#a note from ups saying sorry we missed you! see you in one business day

[dunmertwink]

.

[nereidprinc3ss]

andromeda | (dybmn? bonus)

a bonus vignette from spencer's POV. we find out how he really feels about reader. takes place the day before the argument at the bar.

note: this is not part six! takes place between parts four and five.

series masterlist

18+ warnings/tags: fem!reader, semi-graphic descriptions of sexual fantasies, some angst, you're not actually present, mention of alcohol, very vague discussions of murdery stuff bc he's supposed to be working, sassy spencer makes an appearance a/n: for all my angels who said they wanted a snippet of spencer's POV! i'm sorry if i'm overdoing it with this story or clogging the spencer tags, i'm just having a lot of fun! i hope you enjoy or that this may be clears some things up for you, pls lmk your thoughts:) ily!!!

Spencer is incessantly drumming the particle board table underneath his fingers.

The polymer veneer is one of his least favorite textures—he hates the grain of it and if he were to accidentally scratch the table with his nails he knows it would make the hair on the back of his neck stand up. 

But of all the things he’s worried about, that ranks very low on the list. 

He’s got a lot of mental tabs open all the time—and the tabs, he can deal with. It’s when he starts trying to operate with multiple windows that he begins to struggle. His brain, while it is a very fine tuned sort of computer, only has one monitor. Unfortunately, no human (except for the ones who’ve had their brain hemispheres surgically split) is immune to the inevitable pitfalls of multitasking. By dividing his mental energy between you and his job, he’s really fucking up his job. But he also thinks he really fucked up with you on that phone call the other night and for being as logical as he is he can’t seem to make that feel unimportant—even though he’s disgusted with himself for it because there are literally people dying. 

Someone knocks on the open conference room door—he looks up, skimming his lips over his fist. 

“What’s up?” he says too quickly upon seeing Emily’s mildly concerned face peering in on him. 

Her mouth bridges into a sort of nonchalant frown and her brows kick up. 

“Just… checking in. Haven’t heard from you all morning.”

“Yeah, the, uh—the geo-profile. I’m still… I’m still working it out.”

It’s not like he’s ever been phenomenal with his syntax in a social sense, but Spencer is certainly aware he’s doing even worse than usual right now. 

“Okay. Uh… is there anything in particular stumping you, or…?”

“Nope. Just not enough information. But I’m—I’m going to keep trying.”

“Alright. Got your phone handy?”

It’s an odd question—of course he has his phone handy. He’s been doing this job longer than Emily has. How else would he communicate with the rest of the team? He bristles. 

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”

Emily shakes her head. She’s always been particularly good at reading his moods.

“You’re not under attack, Reid. I was just asking.”

Just as he’s about to say, why would you assume I’m not prepared for my job, he manages to swerve away and stifle the words with his fist. Instead he looks back down at his copy of the map and nods. In reality, he truly isn’t prepared for his job today. The reason he has his phone so close, fully charged and at top volume is because he’s worried he’ll miss a call from you. 

Emily says something else, and he hums in response, and then she’s gone. 

He shouldn’t be reading into your reticence this much. It’s not like you just sit by the phone all day, eagerly awaiting a call or text from him (like he does you). You have a life. You’re busy. And even if you are intentionally dodging his texts, he can’t entirely fault you for it. Spencer knows he’s clingy. He knows he’s overbearing. It’s part of why he panicked the other night and told you the whole humiliating story about Elle. Because he can’t ever just be cool and he felt the need to explain himself. 

But the problem was, and is, that he doesn’t know how much longer he can go without saying those three words that fucked him over all those years ago.

So he’d danced around them. Applied them to someone else to try and avoid outright professing his all-consuming love for you over the phone. However you feel, Spencer has to assume he feels more. Spencer always has to assume he feels more because he usually does and it’s gotten him into trouble before. And now he’s pretty sure he was exactly right, as often is the case, because you didn’t tell him he was mistaken and you’d clammed up and you haven’t talked to him since and he’s not supposed to be reading into it this much. 

Three victims killed and dumped within a 6 mile radius of the first victim plus one victim killed and dumped 23.8 miles away. That doesn’t make any fucking sense. Fuck this guy. 

Spencer decides the problem is that he needs more caffeine. 

Or possibly, if he were a different kind of man—copious amounts of alcohol. 

So he stows his phone in a pocket and asks the first person he sees where the coffee machine is. 

“Looks like you found it earlier,” the woman says, glancing pointedly down at his mostly empty mug. A playful smirk tugs at pinkish-brownish lips. She’s pretty, he realizes distantly. But he registers it the same way he’d take note of the model of a car, or the species of a bird, or the kind of shoes someone is wearing. It doesn’t actually interest him. It’s just part of processing his environment. “I can show you to it?”

He doesn’t have the heart or energy to explain that someone else brought him his cup earlier and he’s not flirting with her. 

“If you could just point me in the right direction…?”

She laughs, short and dry, before she’s pointing down a hall. 

“Kitchenette down there and to the left.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, already walking away without sparing her a second glance. 

She’s the kind of woman he would have paid a lot more attention to before you came along. Not that he’d ever sleep with someone on the job (not since he was 25, anyway), but if he’d met her under any other circumstances he probably would have cared more about the way her pupils dilated and her eyes had widened slightly and she’d adjusted her posture and all the other small things people do when they’re attracted to someone else. 30 year old Spencer might have slept with her. 27 year old Spencer definitely would have slept with her. Current Spencer obsessively pines for a woman who is already his girlfriend and whom he has yet to sleep with at all far too much to think about other women like that. 

But god, does he think about you like that. 

His feet carry him down the dim, carpeted hallway but really it took barely a nudge and he’s thinking about you like that. At work. As he’s pouring himself coffee. 

Spencer is confident in the fact that if anyone were to look at him right now, they’d never guess he’s running clips of you in his mind like a dirty supercut. Because he’s just pouring coffee. That’s one good thing about having all those tabs open all the time. He can toggle between them quickly. He has enough going on in the background that people look at him and all they can tell is that he’s thinking hard about lots of things. Some of them just happen to be the way you look when you’re naked on his bed, skin shining and glazed eyes sleepy, parted lips higher in color than usual and catching your breath. Some of them happen to be your hair brushing his stomach before he gathers it back for you. Some of them happen to be the way your thighs feel on either side of his face, or how you stretch around his fingers, or how you might feel when you stretch around his—

He hisses as hot coffee overflows from the mug and burns his hand. 

Maybe he’s not as calm and collected as he thought. 

But on top of all the other things he’s dealing with, having been so close to actually sleeping with you the other night is really fucking with his head. Even if he tells himself he wouldn't have done it, he knows himself better than that. He's too familiar with the effect you have on his judgement.

“Found it okay?” 

Spencer looks down, surprised to see the woman from earlier sitting at her desk and watching him as he quickly passes by on his way back to the conference room. Her legs are crossed. She’s wearing a pencil skirt and a flouncy sort of blouse which seems impractical for working in an FBI field office. Maybe she notices his eye catching on her figure and misguidedly swivels her chair to give him a better look. But all he’s noticing is that it doesn’t look like yours. Now he’s picturing the curve of your hip dripping in silk after that first night at Rossi’s. How your waist and your stomach feel when he slides his hands over you. This woman—she might as well not even be here for all he’s actually seeing her. 

“Yeah. Thanks again.”

Then he’s gone. Very briefly he acknowledges that he should feel sorry for so obviously brushing her off, but he doesn’t care even close to enough. He sets the coffee down on the table and rounds to the board where one of several maps is taped. On autopilot he draws lines between dump sites because one of the background tabs had deduced, while he was busy watching you like porn, that the distance between dump sites form the beginnings of the constellation Orion with some mathematical precision that’s too exacting to be coincidental. Orion’s Belt plus the most recent victim. Betelgeuse. 

There are ten formally named stars that make up Orion. He marks all of them, but circles the transposed coordinates of Bellatrix, Saiph, Rigel and Meissa as the next most likely dump sites. Most probably it will be Orion’s head. They’re all in wooded areas. He calls Garcia. Garcia will call Emily, wherever she is. If the unsub sticks to pattern, which they always do, they have until midnight. It’s trite, really. Predictable, like people always are. Far too quickly he drinks half the cup of scalding coffee and retraces his steps through the office to find the bathroom. 

It’s empty. The fluorescent lights hum. Spencer washes his hands with cold water and presses still wet fingers to his eyes. You’re waiting for him behind the black of his lids.

At first you would whine, and he would kiss you and you’d moan into his mouth and say his name when he opened you up as far as you would go. The air would be thick and warm with sex and vanilla perfume. Afterwards he’d take care of you and buy new sheets for his bed in your favorite color even if they didn’t match the walls and there would be nothing you’d want for that he couldn’t give to you ever again. 

But. 

That’s all contingent. 

No matter how often he fantasizes about it, no matter in how much detail, and regardless of how often those details change wildly, one thing always stays the same. 

The shape of your lips, swollen from kissing, bending around five or six vowels and only two consonants (it seems odd that there are only two consonants in I love you), sometimes before you start, sometimes in the middle or right at the peak—but always there, always moving in slow motion—and always silent.

In real life, they’d be aloud. It’s why his fantasies aren’t good enough. It’s why he can’t stop fantasizing about it. That’s the only part that really matters to him. The rest varies. 

Not because having sex with you doesn’t matter—it matters so much he almost shatters his molars whenever he starts picturing it around other people. But because Spencer can’t have sex with you until you love him. 

And he worries that you can’t love him until you have sex with him. 

The last time he thought that about a person, it didn’t turn out well.

Maybe there is some magic number. Some amount of times you need to have sex with someone before they’ll love you back. 

If there is, he knows for a fact it’s more than 32.

And he also knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he cannot have loveless sex with you thirty three times while he waits to find out. 

Not again. 

But he's going to hold out as long as he possibly can until you say it because he so badly wants you to love him back. He'll let the weight of every ignored text, every reminder that you don't feel that way about him, hang from his shoulders until he collapses. And then he'll probably try to get back up.

Recycled paper towels scratch against his skin. He dries his face and hands and throws them crumpled into the trash can. 

Outside the restroom, he pulls out his phone. For safety reasons and paranoia disguised as professionalism, you’re not his lock screen. It’s a photo of the Andromeda Galaxy. Whatever distance lies between you and Spencer, it could always be greater. No matter where you are in the world, you will always be the same 2.537 million light years away from Andromeda that he is. 

It makes Orion feel much closer. You, too. 

He sends you a text—the third message in a row. 

The distance between blue bubbles feels like light years. 

I’ll be home tomorrow. I miss you. 

[nathaslosthershit]

Tiny Notes (OP81)

Summary: Oscar was dying, sitting in his first business meeting after signing with Mclaren. Luckily, a pretty girl his age sat right next to him, and she was certainly not in the mood to pay attention to the meeting.

A/n: I think this is one of my most favorite things I’ve written- it was originally the start to my Franco fic (coming tomorrow) but early on I got the idea to change it to Oscar and went from there. Hope you all enjoy 🫶

Neither Oscar nor the eldest Webber daughter wanted to be at the meeting. Actually Miss. Webber herself would argue that there was no reason for her to be there as she didn’t have an official role at Mclaren. But when her grown adult father pouted like a little kid when she said she’d rather eat her own eyes than sit through a 2 hour long meeting with him just because he ‘wants to spend some time with his first mini me’, she stupidly gave in. Now, as she yawned for the 5th time in the past… god, 6 minutes, she could see her dad wearing a shit eating grin while watching her die of boredom. 

Even as a father, Mark Webber could be such an asshole. 

Oscar didn’t know why he was at this meeting. He knew he had to be there, he had just signed a contract to join Mclaren for the upcoming season, but he didn’t know why they needed him there, especially since he couldn’t understand half the words these businessmen were talking about. Assets? Net Loss? He was just here to drive cars.

Maybe he would have figured out the significance of the meeting, if there hadn’t been a beautiful girl his age sitting right next to him. He had already gotten used to the idea that the Mark Webber was his manager, who currently sat across from him, but now he was expected to pay attention when he was next to an attractive girl?

The meeting might have been boring, but Oscar couldn't say his first day at Mclaren hadn’t been memorable. 

“Isn’t that right, Oscar?” The man standing in the front of the room talking asked. Oscar just looked around, hoping he wan’t the Oscar they were talking to, but when everyone stared at him expectantly, he knew he was fucked. 

“I’m sorry, I didn-”

“It is alright,” The businessman laughed, “I was just saying we were honored to sign a new driver for our second seat, and that he seems very promising, isn’t that right?”

“Oh! Yes, I am good.” Everyone laughed at that, but Oscar hadn’t meant it as a joke. He hadn’t meant it in a egotistical way, he was just being nice by agreeing with the man speaking. 

Luckily, the meeting moved on and Oscar could slouch in his chair and try to disappear and die from embarrassment. 

He thought he was out of the clear, that everyone had forgotten about him and he wouldn’t need to speak for the rest of the… hour and a half. This meeting was brutal.

That was until someone nudged Oscar’s leg and he looked up from his hands in his lap to see the girl next to him had pushed the notebook in front of her over.

Have you been paying attention?

Oscar panicked, he hadn’t meant to make his inattention that obvious.

Instead of picking up the pen, he looked at her and nodded his head, hoping his face was calm and convincing her he had been listening

She was not fooled.

She knew who Oscar was, even before he had been introduced. They hadn’t met formally, her dad didn’t want them to meet after she made a joke about how grateful she is to see that Formula 1 has a ‘hot new boy toy’. She was obviously kidding, or at least she tried to convince her dad that she was. 

It's okay, I’m not either, she wrote again, pushing the pen towards him hoping he would reply and give her something to do while this meeting dragged on. 

I don’t know what they are talking about, Oscar replied, regretting it immediately, not wanting to come across as an idiot to her.

She laughed and Oscar felt his heart flutter at the sound. 

She was in the middle of replying that she didn’t know any of it either, when her dad waved his hand at them, grabbing both the young adults’ attention. 

‘At least act like you care, and stop writing to each other!’ he mouthed to them.

Oscar gulped and began to sweat a little, but the girl next to him just rolled her eyes and made an indecent gesture. She’s got guts, he had to give her that. 

But Mark didn’t do anything but try to conceal his laughter, somehow he wasn’t mad at the girl for disrespecting him. 

She began to pick up the pen when Oscar grabbed her hand to stop her, mouthing ‘he said we can’t’

He didn’t want his manager getting mad at him. 

Meanwhile Mark Webber’s eldest daughter loved to annoy her dad, but she knew he loved it too.

“He didn’t say anything about tic-tac-toe” she whispered softly into Oscar’s ear, giving him goosebumps and sending a chill down his spine. That shouldn’t have affected him as much as it did.

Get a grip, Piastri.

So they played tic-tac-toe, and other stupid games to pass the time, until it was finally the moment they were all dismissed from the meeting. 

Both the young adults actually groaned when they realized the meeting was over. 

Oscar didn’t get time to say anything to the girl as his teammate, Lando Norris, came up to have a quick chat. He liked Lando, he really did, but his timing was terrible.

Luckily, the brit could see Oscar was anxious to leave, and he could see who was making him anxious.

“Ohhhhhh, interesting choice, Piastri. Out of everyone you set your eyes on her? Good luck with that, mate.” Lando laughed as he patted Oscar on the back.

What the hell did he mean by that?

She had been waiting for her dad to grab something from his office, but she was also kind of possibly waiting for Oscar to come out of the room. When she looked over and saw Lando was the reason he was being held up, she scoffed.

Leave it to Norris to cockblock her. 

She turned around, not wanting to get caught staring, and impatiently tapped her foot as she waited for her dad to come back. No sooner than she saw him walking as slowly as he could down the hallway, which he was doing because he saw how impatient she was, she got a tap on her shoulder. 

“I just- wanted to say thanks for keeping me sane during the meeting.” Oscar said. “Oh uh, I’m Oscar, I'll be driving for the team next year.” He said awkwardly as he stuck his hand out.

Was it rude to imply she didn’t know who he was, or rude to assume she did?

“I know who you are, Oscar.” She laughed, shaking his hand. “I probably know more about you than 99% of that room.”

That confused him. “Can I at least get your name the-”

“Oscar, what was rule number one when I became your manager?” Mark Webber said, scaring the two of them as he snuck up behind the girl.

Shit, “Uh, don’t bring up Multi 21,” he replied, realizing he had just broken that rule by bringing it up. 

The girl giggled at that, and Oscar felt his heart stop. He also felt a blush creep on his face, one that Mark too saw and by his frown, Oscar could tell he disapproved.

“No- well yes, but the other big rule.”

“If I meet any of you or other racing drivers’ daughters, I am not allowed to flirt or befriend or speak or look or breathe near any of them.” Oscar didn’t understand why that needed to be a rule but he thought fighting Mark on it wouldn’t go well. 

“Damn, two rules broken on your first day, Piastri?” The girl laughed.

“What?” Was all he replied. Then he connected the dots. The glares and looks shared between the girl and Mark, her being able to flip him off and him not getting offended by it, the fact they walked in together.

Mark and his eldest daughter could see as Oscar reached his conclusion.

“Fuck I’m- I didn’t know that- Well you see-” There was no getting out of this.

Thankfully, Mark just laughed, “it’s alright buddy, just never speak to her ever again.” Oscar shuddered at the way his manager’s expression grew darker at the end of his sentence.

The two Webbers walked away from the young driver, arguing or joking with each other, Oscar couldn’t tell, when a paper slipped out of the girl’s hand. 

Oscar picked it up and went to tell her she had dropped it, when he saw what was written on it.

Don’t listen to him, he is an overprotective ass ;)

How had she known ahead of time that her Dad would disapprove? Before he could question it further, he flipped the note to see her number was written on the back. 

Thank god he was forced to be at that useless meeting.

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ slashers scenarios | first meeting

info;

♡ fandoms; The Boy, House of Wax, Halloween, Hannibal, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, slashers (general), DBD

♡ characters; Brahms Heelshire, Vincent Sinclair, Micheal Myers, Hannibal Lecter, Thomas Hewitt

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; mentions of blood/violence

The most random array of characters. All 5 are my bfs tho. Also this is written very very informally because it was originally just for myself lol.

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Brahms Heelshire//

> approximateplotofthe movie. jpeg

> honestly you mind your own business once you realize it’s a doll but assume there’s cameras so mostly behave

> you find yourself naturally coddling his doll like a real child when you’re bored, speaking to him constantly

> even though you’re not doing much to upset him, weird things do start happening around the house

> he mostly wants attention

> you leave a note one day

> “dear brahm’s ghost; i’m sorry if i’m not doing a good job as a nanny. i’m really trying my best. I hope we can be friends”

> he scribbles a smiley face on it and you’re a little freaked out / excited

> when he finally shows himself you’re really stunned. but it makes more sense than a genuine ghost

> you’re in such shock that you just. keep going with the evening and make dinner.

> but even once you come to your senses, you end up more sad than scared

> “…they left you all alone. I’m so sorry.”

> he gives you puppy eyes

> “…I won’t do that to you. I promise. I’m staying.”

> he’s even more in love with you than he first thought. even if you’re going to make him shower six times before bed.

> to his chagrin you don’t help him bathe

> but you do kiss him goodnight

Vincent Sinclair//

> bo brings you to him

> at first he’s making some big deal, “special delivery” and all that

> you’re cute

> really cute

> and bo clearly knew you’re the kind of person vincent would like

> but he’s still got a job to do

> damn it

> “h-hey- wait- i can help you—?”

> that makes him hesitate

> “i’m an artist too. i can help with the sculptures. “

> …

>“i’ll be good. promise.”

> he didn’t need much more convincing than that

> bo is surprised he kept you but makes damn sure you’re not escaping

> but you don’t even try because you just feel so deeply for vincent, and he’s so gentle

> you weren’t lying about being an artist so you’re genuinely helpful

> he falls madly in love when you help him resculpt his mask

Micheal Myers //

> Meet because you wrote letters to him

> Not to interview him or as an obsessive fan

> At first out of curiosity, then as a sort of way to vent, because he never responds

> But as it turns out your letters are the only ones he keeps or even opens at this point

> So his psychologist wants you to meet him to see if you can get him to open up- of course there’s a cash incentive

> He doesn’t say a word from the other side of the glass.

> Obviously.

> But you treat it like a normal visit to a friend and just chat mindlessly a while

> And you’re so much tinier and cuter in person

> He wants to stab you so much

> But realizes that if he killed you, he might miss you

> Ew that’s a scary thought

> Still wants to make you scream tho uwu

> He escapes

> Because he’s Micheal Myers that’s what he does

> After his spree he finds himself in your house, bloodsoaked and honestly not all that sure what he’ll do when he sees you

> You don’t even scream, just give a tiny ‘eep’

> “…Micheal?”

> He regrips his knife so he can get it over with. You’ll just tattle

> “Oh gosh- you’re soaked from the rain. And all that blood-let’s get you a shower? I can get you some fresh clothes too,”

> He’s staring down at you in disbelief

> “…what? You thought I’d try and call the cops? I like talking to you.”

> There’s something very wrong with you

> It’s kind of hot

> He puts him knife away and follows you

Hannibal Lecter//

> you’re his patient lol

> at first he doesn’t have much interest in you outside of work

> but god, you’d be such a perfect subject to manipulate with that little authority figure problem you have

> and even though you’re young

> you do recognize some of the finer things in life

> mostly his artwork and cooking. you’re really good at inadvertently stroking his ego

> he starts diving into darker subjects in therapy

> you’re a bit of a morbid person under the sunshine-y exterior

> perfect

> he’s still chipping away at something big you’re keeping from him

> he could do some digging online and through your files but where’s the fun in that

> he gets you tipsy and then starts with the psycho babble

> you finally crack

> you killed some guy that was stalking you years ago

> god that’s hot

> you liked it, at least a little bit

> even hotter

> you licked the blood off your hands and it tasted good

> he’s in love ; good luck leaving

Thomas Hewitt //

> car trouble! it’s always car trouble

> honestly when you rock up to the gas station alone Luda Mae is thinking that it’s a shame the fridge at home is already full

> but you’re the sweetest little customer

> “your name is really pretty ma’am. ever since i was little i decided if i had a daughter, her name would be Audrey Mae”

> new plan, she’s playing matchmaker

> there’s just something about you that’s so gentle

> and mildly off-putting, like the rest of the family

> she brings you out to the farm to see if they have the car parts you need

> and to stay the night, if you really need to

> you run smack dab into Thomas in his old half mask walking in- even Luda expects you to recoil at the least

> instead you turn a bit pink

> “oh gosh- I’m so so sorry sir-“

> Thomas stares at you

> You just shyly introduce yourself, talking enough for both of you

> Luda Mae is already planning the wedding

> “That’s my youngest Tommy- why don’t you show em around? Alright baby?”

> Thomas is a bit hesitant but you’re so little and cute and smell so good—

> He’s already obsessed oops

[pure-smut]

helping out a friend.

featuring: Kuroo Tetsuro x f!reader

contains: childhood friends to lovers, mutual m*sturbation, missionary, softdom!kuroo, watching p*rn

note: all characters are aged up to 18+!

word count: 2.4k

masterlist

MDNI | 18+ content

You’ve known Tetsuro Kuroo since you were practically babies. You found each other at nursery and you’ve been inseparable ever since. Even though you’re older now and went to different Universities, you video call nearly every day. You’ve managed to break out of your shell a bit and make some new friends at Uni but nothing beats seeing Tetsu’s face pop up on your phone. He just cheers you up.

“Hey, nerd,” Tesu greets you one day. You balance your phone against the stack of books on your desk so you can see each other while you study.

“Hey, loser,” you greet him back. He must be just out of the shower because he’s not wearing a shirt and his chest is slick and shiny. “You couldn’t make yourself decent?”

“What, you don’t like?” he says, grinning. You roll your eyes and ignore him.

If you’re being honest with yourself, there was maybe a time years and years and years ago where you had a bit of a thing for Tetsu. You’re super close, after all, and he’s good-looking so you figured it was normal. After it became apparent that he didn’t view you that way – he flirts with literally everyone – you buried it way down deep until it disappeared. So, yes, at one point a comment like that would have made you blush. Now it doesn’t even phase you.

“You still studying?” Tetsu continues, oblivious.

“Duh. My last exam is tomorrow.”

“And then you’ll be back home, right?”

“Yep! Flights are booked for Friday.” You smile, excited to see him in person again.

“We need to hang out asap. I’ve missed you, dude.”

“I’ve missed you too. But are you not seeing Clarissa on Friday?”

He winces.

“Uhhh… no. That’s… not really a thing anymore.”

“Oh.” You look up from your notebook. “I’m sorry, Tetsu. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, dude, don’t even worry about it. I’ve gotta go but good luck with your exam tomorrow.”

“Thanks, I’ll see you Friday!”

You hang up and shake your head. For some reason, Tetsu can never stick with a girlfriend. Clarissa had lasted the longest and you had actually really liked her. You start to wonder what went wrong before stopping yourself. No, you need to focus on the exam and then you can catch up with Tetsu this weekend. The corner of your mouth upticks in a smile at seeing him again.

*

The exam goes as well as it could and you have a couple of hours to yourself before you need to catch your flight. You text your FWB but he replies with a busy today, sorry x. You sigh and pick up your laptop.

You have a few bookmarked porn videos and, exhausted from the exam, you decide to click an old, familiar one rather than searching through a bunch of new ones. As it starts up, you lick your finger to get it slick and snake a hand down under your panties. By the time the guy in the video is getting started, you’re softly rubbing your clit, your gaze on the screen intense.

Just as you’re nearing your orgasm, your phone rings. You groan with frustration but, seeing Tetsu’s name, you pick up.

“What?” you snap.

“Whoa, hello to you, too,” Tetsu chuckles.

“I’m a bit busy.”

“Doing what?”

There’s an awkward pause and, to your horror, you realise you haven’t stopped the video. The sound of slapping flesh and moaning fills the air.

“Oh,” Tetsu says.

“I-I’ll call you later,” you stammer out and hang up immediately.

Mortified, all your earlier horniess evaporates and you lay back in your bed, your face in your hands. Your phone buzzes with a message from Tetsu but you can’t even bring yourself to look at it. Instead, you push it down before your humiliation overwhelms you and start getting ready for your flight.

*

You arrive in your hometown that evening, exhausted and irritable.

“Did your exam not go well, sweetie?” Mom asks, frowning and pushing back your hair from your face.

“No, it was okay,” you sigh. “I’ve just had a long day.”

And you’ve embarrassed yourself so much in front of Tetsu that you want the ground to swallow you whole, you think but keep that part to yourself.

“I’ve got some dinner in the fridge for you, d’you want me to warm it up?”

“Thanks, Mom, but it’s alright. I’m just going to hang out in my room tonight. Get an early night.”

She seems displeased but doesn’t argue, letting you wheel your suitcase up the stairs and into your room.

It always feels weird coming home to your old bedroom – most stuff you took with you to the University dorms so all that’s left are your childhood things that you don’t want to part with. Even the walls are bare now. They used to be covered with photos of Tetsu and you but you took those to Uni with you too.

You groan at the thought of him and how awkward he must have felt. He’d sent you a few more messages but you haven’t checked them in case they confirm your worst fears – that you’re gross and he doesn’t want to be friends anymore. The thought makes you well up so you pull out your laptop and put on some low-stakes sitcom and bury yourself under the duvet.

You’re deep into your wallowing when there’s a knock at the door.

“I don’t want dinner, Mom!” you call. “I already said!”

“Unfortunately, I’m not dinner but I am a snack,” Tetsu responds from the other side of the door. You snap up to sitting, nearly launching your laptop off the bed. “Can I come in?”

“Uh…” You desperately look around although you don’t know what you're even looking for. “Um, yes. Yeah, come in.”

Tetsu steps in with his hand covering his eyes and closes the door behind him.

“What are you doing?” You squint at him.

“Oh, just in case I’m interrupting you jerking off again.”

A burst of laughter explodes from your chest, despite your burning cheeks, and you throw your pillow at him.

“You’re a dick!” you say but you’re laughing. He takes his hand away from his eyes and grins.

“Didn’t you get any of my messages?”

You avert your eyes and don’t say anything. Tetsu crosses the space between you and sits down next to you on the bed. You hate how embarrassed you feel – Tetsu always puts you at ease and you automatically want to rest your head on his shoulder but it feels too awkward to do so now.

“Listen, don’t worry about it,” he says. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. So you were getting yourself off, so what? Everyone does it.”

“I know but…” You bury your face in your hands. Tetsu reaches across to ease your hands away and looks you in the eye.

“Seriously, don’t be embarrassed. Honestly? It was kind of hot.”

A million butterflies explode in your stomach and your heart sets off at a gallop.

“W-what?”

“Not to be weird or anything,” Tetsu grins and rubs the back of his neck. “And you don’t need to talk about it if you don’t want to. But we talk about everything else, right?”

“Right,” you say, breathless. “What… I mean, what would we even talk about?”

He shrugs.

“I don’t know, like, what kind of stuff were you watching?”

Your face flushes but you fight the urge to dive under the covers.

“I… don’t really know how to describe it.”

Tetsu’s eyes glint.

“Why don’t you show me then?”

You give a nervous bout of laughter, your heart still thunderous in your ears.

“Only if you want to,” he adds and you nod your head.

“I do, I just… won’t you find it weird?”

“Why would I? You’re my best friend.”

Tetsu smiles at you and it’s so familiar and reassuring that you smile back. You know that as soon as you reach for the laptop, your friendship will shift and you won’t be able to move it back. But it feels okay. Natural.

You pick up the laptop as Tetsu moves up the bed to sit next to you, his back against the headboard.

Your finger hovers over the link in the bookmark bar, hesitating before you take the plunge and click it. The familiar video starts playing as a man in a suit makes out with a woman in a secretary outfit. Tetsu gives a low chuckle.

“Nice,” he says and you get a weird thrill at his approval. “D’you watch this a lot?”

“Um, I guess. Every couple of days.”

His breathing hitches and he gives you a sidelong look.

“What?” you ask, defensiveness creeping into your voice.

“Nothing. I just like the idea of you touching yourself.”

“Shut up,” you say, your face warm and he gives a wide grin.

You keep watching for a few minutes as the man in the video starts fingering his secretary. His fingers plunge deep inside her and she throws her head back in pleasure. You feel yourself getting wetter and squirm uncomfortably. Tetsu must notice because he gives you another look.

“Touch yourself if you want,” he says. “I don’t mind.”

“I… no. It’s too awkward,” you reply, keeping your eyes forward on the screen.

“I could do it for you.”

You chance a glance at him and his eyes are on you. He’s looking at you in a way he never had before, like he’s hungry.

“Do you… would you want me to do it for you, too?” you say clumsily. You both look down to see the bulge in his jeans.

“Yeah,” he says, his playful smile gone. “If you want to.”

Your eyes are glued to his bulge. Your entire crush, which you thought you’d long buried, suddenly resurrects itself and you find yourself desperate to touch him.

“I do. Want to, I mean.” You lick your lips and he glances down to look at your mouth.

Unsure who should go first, you hesitate. Luckily, Tetsu doesn’t, and you watch him lick two of his long fingers.

“Spread your legs for me,” he instructs and you do so immediately. He pushes his hand down under the band of your pyjama shorts and panties. He doesn’t break eye contact the entire time. When his fingers reach your pussy lips, he finds them already slick with your arousal.

“The video do this to you?” he asks.

“The video,” you say. “And you.”

Emboldened, you reach across and undo his jeans. You slip your hand in and close it around his cock, gently pulling it free. As soon as you touch him, he inhales sharply.

“Is this okay?” you ask.

“Yeah. Definitely.”

His cock is velvety soft despite being rock solid and it feels hot against your fingers. You begin to stroke him slowly.

“Fuck,” he gasps, his hand still down your shorts. “I want to make you cum but I can’t fucking think straight with your hand around my cock.”

You keep stroking him regardless, enjoying him melt beneath your fingertips. He repositions himself so he’s closer to you and his fingers begin circling your clit. You give a small gasp at the jolt it sends through your body and Tetsu groans, his eyes glazed over.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he murmurs so quietly you almost don’t hear him.

“Do what?” you whisper as his finger continues playing with your swollen clit.

“Touch you,” he breathes. “Fuck you.”

The muscles in his arm are taut and hard, his stomach solid as you start jerking him faster.

“I want you, too,” you tell him, your voice laden with need.

“Really?”

“Yes, Tetsu. Fuck me, now, please.”

“Oh, fuck,” he groans and, with effort, pulls himself free of your grasp.

Your pussy feels bare without his hand but it doesn’t last long as Tetsu positions himself over you. There’s something unspoken between you – that you can take this slow another time, that you can explore each other’s bodies afterwards. Right now, you need each other too much to wait.

Tetsu quickly strips you of your pyjama shorts and panties, the only thing in between his cock and your pussy. You wrap your legs around him, using your feet to push down his jeans just enough so that his cock is free. He lines up the head with your entrance before looking up at you, a question in his eyes. You nod without hesitation.

Tetsu pushes his hips forward. He starts slow, only sinking in a few inches but he’s hard and thick and it’s enough for your eyes to roll back in your head. You can feel him stretching you, rubbing against all your nerves.

“Fuck,” you gasp. When you open your eyes, his are watching you.

He draws back ever so slightly before pushing in even deeper, waiting for you to adjust to the size of him before going any further. Every stroke sends your nerves alight. He continues until he’s buried completely inside you, filling you.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groans.

The walls of your pussy clamp down on him and you can see the muscles in his arms bulging as he holds up his weight over you. He pulls back until he’s nearly fully out. In the light of the laptop, you can see his cock glistening with your juices before he slams back inside you. He picks up speed, finding a rhythm, and each time he pounds you, you hurtle closer to an orgasm. Your pussy starts to contract around his cock.

“T-Tetsu, I… I’m going to…” you gasp but you can’t finish the sentence.

Your orgasm rocks through your body, your pussy squeezing Tetsu’s cock. Your legs wrap tightly around him, encouraging him to go harder, deeper. Tetsu gives a long, low moan and you feel his cock throb. His hand grips your hip, pinning you beneath him as he unleashes thick ropes of his cum inside you. You both collapse onto the bed.

After a few moments, while you both catch your breath, he pushes himself up on one arm. While still inside you, he presses a gentle kiss on your lips – your first kiss. When he pulls back, there’s a grin on his face.

“That was way better than jerking off.”

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[elliesmainhoe]

Ellie Williams Headcanons : RichOlderWoman!Ellie

I got this as an ask but Tumblr ate it 😱 so here you go anon.

Okay Okay. So, first things first, from day one Ellie was always adamant when saying that you were NEVER her sugar baby.

you were just her controversially young girlfriend who she liked to spoil and have perched on her lap during boring business meetings.

speaking of SPOLING-

she regularly takes you on trips to expensive high end malls which exclusively house designer brands and WILL buy you anything you look at as long as you hold her hand while you both walk around.

but CEO Ellie Williams is a busy woman, and doesn't always have a long enough interval between meetings to keep you company.

in those cases she simply kisses you cheek and forehead before handing you a small black card and saying "give me a show of everything you buy when I get home, hm?"

arthritis may be fast approaching but those hips do not slow

(jk she's only in her late thirties, and you know for a fact the extent of working out she does keeps her joints in check)

in fact she gives the best strap game. the experience and the variety of expensive toys and the regular gym routine = 🤩

always her arm candy

every once in a while after lovingly gazing at you for a little too long, looking at your soft supple thighs, pink lipstick coated lips and shiny hair cascading beautifully from your head. she feels insecure?

it's an odd feeling.

an unfamiliar feeling.

but Ellie is mature, it's one thing you admire about herand she knows that a problem won't be resolved unless she talks to you.

so she does, and as soon as the voices of concern fall from her lips, you soon put those thoughts to rest <333

she does the same to you!!

it was a normal day, you woke up to a cup of coffee on your bed side, a small pastry from your favorite bakery, a credit card and a note which read:

"Good Morning my love, I completely forgot about the early morning meeting I had today. I got you some pastries as an apology, I'm sorry we can't go shopping today like we planned, but here's my card and the driver can take you to the mall.

Love you pretty girl, Ellie x"

•••••••

it was a while later when Joel, your driver, pulled up outside the office building, you thanked him swiftly and walked quickly towards the automatic doors of 'Williams Enterprises Headquarters', expensive jimmy choo heels clicking against the concrete entrance. The security guard, Bob, nodded his head in greeting and you returned the gesture with a smile.

The receptionist was... different. the usual blonde haired girl was replaced by a middle aged woman with greying hair, deep set wrinkles imbedded in pale skin. "Hi what can I do for you today?" a high squeaky voice came from her mouth. a tone of voice you knew from years of retail work and customer service, you winced instinctively.

"Hi, I'm here to see Miss Williams." you reply, fingers tightening on the strap of the mulberry purse Ellie had gifted you for your 2nd anniversary a few months passed.

"hmmm. I don't see you on the schedule, do you have an appointment?" she smiled, the fakeness clear and tone of voice irritated.

"oh, uhm no. I'm her girlfriend" silence. the fake smile plastered on the woman's face falling, as she looked over behind her to a colleague who nodded in confirmation of the story you had given her.

"sorry if this is intrusive kid, but aren't you a little young." she spoke, and chewed a piece of him you hadn't noticed before rather obnoxiously. "I mean I can tell you're..." her eyes scanned your frame "reaping the benefits."

"I mean, god I can't blame you" she continued " if I had the looks and youth I once did I would happily suck off anyone for chanel. Now tell me doll, how much surgery has Mrs. Williams paid for you to have done, surely those tits aren't real?"

you quickly brushed past her, ignoring the intrusive questions and stepped into the elevator, pressing the floor Ellie's office resided on.

the site of you immediately brought a smile onto your girlfriend's previously pinched and visibly frustrated face. "Hi pretty girl,", she pushed out her chair from behind her desk, patting her thigh for you to sit on. "Hi Els." the frown you couldn't quite erase from your features furrowed your brows in a way Ellie couldn't ignore.

"What happened baby? you upset with me for leaving earlier?" she asked softly, adjusting you on her lap and kissing your temple. "nah it's not that- I just-" your hands instinctively began playing with Ellie's fingers, twisting the ring on her index finger slowly. "the new lady, in reception. she said something-" you sighed. "and I just can't shake it."

"do you think that, I'm a burden? that the fact I'm so young means I'm leeching off you? I don't want to do that Ells. I like dresses and bags and makeup and you give that to me because you can, but I just- if you ever don't want to buy me stuff, please tell me Ells, I don't want to take and take and take when you don't want me to."

a soft chuckle shook Ellie's chest "pretty girl, look at me. The reason I work is to spoil you, the reason I go to these bullshit meetings with these stuckup assholes is to give you and me a life where money is no object. I love you sweet girl" she kissed your plush lips, the tension seemingly draining out of your body at the touch.

"now, which receptionist said that?"

•••••••••

A/N: cute little hc and drabble to get me back into the swing of things.

[luveline]

hi jadey!! can i request something with steve? maybe where reader used to be in a relationship where the other person made her to do all the work ( put in the groceries, clean the house, etc.) and one day steve is taking care of some of the chores and reader freaks out cause she’s the one supposed to be doing it?? it’s just an idea, no pressure lovely! hope you’re having a good day 🫶🫶

ty gorgeous! fem!reader

Steve hums when he's busy. No pretentiousness, no shame, he sings lyrics, guitar, and occasionally drums, too. You can hear him in the kitchen singing that Van Halen song he loves, his voice twisted tight as he tries to hit a high note. 

"Are you making a sandwich?" you ask hopefully, hanging your coat on the hook as you trudge in from the front door. 

You're in the kitchen before Steve's collected the wits to answer you. Your jaw falls open. 

"Hey, babe," he says. It's difficult to tell if the pet name is joking or serious, Steve in his pyjamas with his sleeves rolled up, his lips quirked into a funny smile as though he's pleased to see you but confused at the same time. "No? Did you want one?" 

"What are you doing?"

Steve holds his games up in surrender, a cloth held in the left. "I'm wiping down the counters?" 

"Why?" 

"I do this every Friday before you get home." 

"What?" 

Steve takes the cloth to the sink to rinse it out. Bleach bubbles squeeze from the fabric. "Am I doing it wrong? This is how I always do it. Wipe the counters, vacuum, mop. Why are you back so early?" 

"Steve, you don't have to clean. I… that's my job." 

"Then what's mine?" he asks, turning off the faucet and dropping the wet cloth at the bottom of the basin. He wipes his hands dry with a hand towel, ushering your forward with a gesture of his index finger. "Come here…" He wraps his arms around you. "All you do lately is work." Steve kisses your cheek three quick times. "Miss you."

You blink a little, overwhelmed, still worried. "Do I not do it right? It's okay if I don't, I can–" 

"Do what? The counters? No. I just figured it's my turn before the weekend starts and you go on your cleaning frenzy. Which isn't your job, by the way. I don't know why you think that." 

He's light-hearted, but your silence spurns him into a more serious tone. Taking your face into one still-damp palm, he narrows his eyes until they're more brown than anything else and says, "Do you really think it's your job?"

"I'm the girl." 

"And I'm so stoked about that, but…" He smiles, pulling your cheek with his thumb to encourage the same. "That's not right. Do you even like cleaning?" 

"I don't have to like it, it's housework." 

Steve can't seem to decide whether this is serious or not. He goes from smiling to frowning to impassive, his fingers rubbing a slovenly path down your cheek. Strands of hair like lace drift into his eyes as he ducks his head, his gaze on your chest. "It's housework for the house we both live in. I know you've been doing more of it since we moved in, and I'm really sorry. I'm lazier than you. I should've asked you about it, but now I've let you do more and you think you need to do all of it. I'm a dick." 

"No, you're not." 

"I'm a total dick. You think you have to clean up after me?" He brings you in for another hug. "Holy fuck, baby. I'm a grown up." 

You bristle at first, but relax the longer he holds you, his words sinking in steady. He's not criticising you; Steve is apologising and self-deprecating. You slide your arms behind his back and breathe in his smell, all things boy but with the sharp smell of bleach lingering. 

"I did it myself. You know, before. So that's why it feels like it's mine to do. Not your fault," you say into his chest. 

Steve pulls away. "Thanks, but I'm a huge dick no matter what." 

He marches you backwards and forces you back into one of the chairs at the dining table. You grab at his arms as he attempts to walk away, lifting your chin to kiss him. It distracts him for a while, the soft, slow press of his lips against yours, your hand in his hair scratching tenderly, but he can't be kept forever. Steve ends your kissing with a peck and beelines for the fridge.

"What are you doing?" you ask. 

"Making you a sandwich. Dinner and a show tonight, did I forget to tell you? You can eat the best BLT in the western hemisphere and I'm gonna vacuum the crumbs from under the toaster. Perfect Friday night, right?" 

[truelovepolinator]

Nicola and Luke are ABSOLUTELY TOGETHER and have been all along and here’s how I know

(Friends, I’ve just finished this and it is INSANELY LONG. Like, two looong book chapters long. But I PROMISE it’s worth it. I was gonna cut it into multiple parts to make it more readable, but I’m going to be super busy over the next few days, so I wouldn’t have a chance to post subsequent parts until probably Christmas, so I’ve decided to drop it all now so I don’t delay the final victorious conclusion. Sorry, it’s so long, but I don’t really have time to rethink it and try to tell the story in a more concise way. Again, I think you’ll be glad you stuck with it if you want to feel as thoroughly confident as I am that Nic and Luke are absolutely together.)

(Also, I have to run now, but I'll come back to add relevant photos/videos as time allows. But I'm sure you're all familiar with them anyway.)

So I want to start by saying something I’m sure I’ll repeat. This is, of course, just my opinion and supposition based on the evidence available to me. But I also want to say, I am absolutely, positively sure now in a way I have never been. Genuinely not a doubt in my mind, and I think you’ll agree by the end of this.

It’s also worth noting that this may be nothing new to some of you. I’ve only been on this platform for a week and have barely scratched the surface of the great content here. So this is how *I* came to the final, joyful conclusion that everything is right with the world where lukola is concerned. I had long been sure they belonged together, but was afraid to embrace the theories about them actually being together now for fear of heartbreak, plus all the confusing signals about A & J, etc.

But all that changed a couple nights ago when I finally got the last piece of the puzzle I needed to see the big picture. There were just too many things that didn’t make sense, until they did! I literally couldn’t sleep that night (seriously only got about 2 hours) and then spent next day telling my husband the story for hours (in 20-30 minute increments as he could spare them during his slow, Christmas time work day).

My husband has been a patient, long-suffering skeptic through all of this. He’s put up with my rants and constant videos I just had to share, but he’s been completely convinced from day one that they simply leaned into their friendship to turn on faux relationship vibes for PR. He was absolutely sure it was all just make-believe for the fans. No matter what I showed him, he could not be convinced.

Until yesterday. Yes, I convinced the toughest skeptic in town.

I think it’s important to start with my journey into the Lukola fandom for context. I was a casual Bridgerton watcher until this season, and had never read the books. I liked season 1, I loved season 2, and I was looking forward to watching season 3.

I had planned to wait to watch the first 4 until the second half was about to launch (so I wouldn’t have to wait for more), but I realized after about a week that we needed to watch it immediately before everything was completely spoiled by timeline gifs and clips.

Needless to say, I was beyond hooked. Instantly. Season 3 was another level for all the reasons you all know. Finally I could engage safely with the fandom, but the process from occasional Polin/Lukola content to nonstop immersion took some time. So even following the second half, there was a TON of footage I hadn’t seen.

All of this to say, I basically missed all of the World Tour stuff as it was happening, and it took well into the summer to finally see so many amazing clips and edits that I was absolutely fucking sucked into the lukola wormhole. However, I was well behind many of you on the curve, and even to this day, I’m still catching up on things.

But by late summer, I was all in. I was sailing high on USS Lukola (or I suppose that should be the HMS Lukola!) because I saw exactly what you all saw. This was clearly real, their feelings were indisputable, and everything about their behavior and much of what they said was so far beyond PR, even “faking couplehood” PR.

They were real. Even if he had this dumb girlfriend. (I say that only in the good-natured, abstract sense that I wanted him with Nic, not in a personal “actually about her” sense. In fact, I’ve never said anything hateful about either A or J and I hope I never will.)

WHY AREN’T THEY TOGETHER???

I couldn’t resist the mystery.

It drove me absolutely crazy for months trying to understand why they weren’t together. Nothing made sense, but I mentally explored literally every possibility. They’re afraid of ruining their friendship? They’re afraid of disrupting the production if it goes wrong? These possibilities at least made some kind of sense and seemed to be the only explanations I could find. But in my mind, they weren’t good enough reasons to resist what these two so obviously had. Still, I’m not them, so that was easy for me to say. I had nothing to risk in this.

One or both of them is/are secretly gay? Soulmate besties instead of soulmate lovers? I didn’t think this was the case and nothing made me believe this. Yet, I was attempting to allow for every possibility. Still, with Nicola being the super vocal “gay icon” that she is, it was hard to imagine she wouldn’t live out and proud if that was the case. And apparently she lived with an unknown man for two years. Though she does always keep her private (romantic) life super private, so I suppose who knows? And, of course, Luke had two very public past relationships with women, but again, who knows, I suppose? This option doesn’t ring true at all, but it does exist in the universe of possible explanations for this inexplicable situation.

They love each other in a soulmate way, but somehow one of them just isn’t “attracted” to the other? Certainly, if the stories about Antonia were true, that might suggest that Luke might be attracted to an entirely different physical type than Nicola. But that didn’t ring true either because LOOK AT THEM TOGETHER! He can’t take his eyes off of her, let alone his hands. And the same for her. They are magnetized to each other. If that’s not attraction, what is?

One of them has baggage and isn’t ready for a real, serious relationship? This one seemed possible. People can have hang-ups or wounds for all sorts of reasons, and letting someone in – especially someone who might actually be your soulmate – can be terrifying. Self-protection by avoiding relationships and/or distracting yourself with less meaningful relationships is a natural way of coping with baggage. Yes, maybe this one? Neither of them seems obviously wounded, but what would I know? Most people don’t wear their wounds on their sleeves, least of all during a PR tour. Still, the energy flow between them seemed anything but wounded. It seemed like the healthiest, happiest thing in the world.

People kept saying, they’re blind and they don’t see it yet. But I don’t believe anyone can be that blind. Especially after watching all the countless edits and clips of their tour, which we know they did because Nicola is chronically online and sharing with Luke the best of it all (and sneaky Luke is likely lurking also).

So at the end of the day, I had no good explanation. It just kept not making sense.

Then those music festival photos of Nic and Jake (I’ll abbreviate sometimes for ease, but I do say their names) showed up. The fandom erupted into chaos with full reactions across the spectrum including a bizarre, almost immediate burst of (not yet named) jakolas, which felt like a disproportionate response to a few photos.

Admittedly, those photos did look quite friendly, and touchy, and yes, they stood arm-in-arm. But lots of friends stand like that at concerts. And Nic is known to be touchy-feely, so let’s not go overboard, I thought. However, I did acknowledge (in my head, I didn’t weigh in online at all) that it suggested that it COULD be romantic. I opted not to freak out, because either way, Nic’s love life is her own and I want her to be happy.

And it’s worth saying here that both of their private lives are none of my business, none of any of our business, and even writing this is completely at odds with that truth. I acknowledge that. But what I told myself, and actually meant it, was that I was going to stay out of it unless and until NicLuke got together. That was the only place I would invest my energy since they’ve both said they think it’s sweet that fans ship them. If they dated others, good luck to them. Be happy. But when the time comes…

Yes, friends, the time has come!!! But back to my story.

Note that (because again, I was still catching up), I hadn’t yet seen the swimming in Sorrento photos and had missed that piece of the puzzle at that point. Throughout this time, I’d see people refer to things on Twitter like everyone already knew what they were talking about, but hardly anyone ever took the time to explain. So I got lots of glimmers of things that others felt were notable, without actually knowing any details. Those pictures were an example. Another was the Claddagh ring.

I’m very grateful to some amazing deep dive blog entries by @threeacttragedy that explained the ring, “Bless the Telephone,” and other meaty, important history that I’d previously only heard mentioned in passing. In fact, one of her blogs is what first brought me here by referral from Twitter. And if you don’t follow her, you should!

In the past week, as I started reading blogs that broke down past dates and clues, I finally started looking them up one by one and trying to put the pieces together in my head. I’d seen the swimming photos by then, but I revisited them. I dug in to try to understand the references to a “New Year kiss” from the night the friend group (Rory, etc.) posted photos together from a Soho House party. I reviewed Hot Boy Summer, I rewatched the incredibly emotional video of Luke meeting Nicola’s mom, I looked at photos of the Claddagh ring and went to Chupi’s website. I learned about the LA photos from April, both Antonia’s version and the InStyle Polaroids. I reviewed all the photos of Luke and Antonia that I could find. And I reviewed all the photos and videos of Nic and Jake that I could find. Also, I listened to “Bless the Telephone” about one hundred times. Lol.

Regarding Luke and Antonia, I had the same response in this deep dive I’ve had every time. Weird. I mean, if I didn’t feel so strongly that Luke was in love with Nicola, and if I knew nothing about him except he was some hot actor, could I see him dating someone like A? Sure. But the fact that there are almost no pictures of them posing together, alone like a couple, is weird. Even if it’s super casual and she was just his date to some stuff. The fact that Luke looks grumpy in both sets of pap photos (premiere night and swimming in Sorrento), but A is smiling happily in at least one of the premiere night photos is weird. The fact that after the Sorrento pap photos, Luke seems to leave his friend group to come home early, and then stops liking any of his best friend Rory’s photos from there on, weird.

The fact that in the fall, she posts pictures harkening back to a place and time they were apparently together, but without any actual photos together, weird. And the continual drip, drip of Likes from Luke is weird. And then when a photo of Luke in a restaurant in Rome is posted by the restaurant, she immediately follows with a video story of someone making pasta in the same restaurant, weird.

Perhaps weirdest of all, the fact that she pre-posted the LA pictures, and then he gave other versions of the same shots to InStyle. Especially the switching seats thing. If my husband and I were taking pics of each other at a café, I’d take his picture in front of the traffic, and he’d take my picture in front of the restaurant, because that’s where we’d be sitting. Across from each other. So why switch seats to take the photos? It’s not like that street with traffic was such a fantastic backdrop that we’d each need our turn with that shot? And they’re the same, with the same table number, but different. Sure, traffic moves, but weird coincidence that they each had a white truck, but a DIFFERENT white truck. So, like I said, weird. Always implying they were together, but never actually saying/showing it. Weird.

I read all sorts of theories from pragmatic (we just have to accept that they’re dating) to hateful (they’re not together/never were, but she’s obsessed and keeps inserting herself in a pathetic, desperate plea for attention and followers) to seemingly far-fetched (some sort of NDA that means for some reason Luke is obligated to Like her photos). Only the first of these seemed plausible. I maybe didn’t like it (not maybe, I didn’t like it at all), but I thought, “Yes, I guess we just have to accept that they’re probably together until they tell us otherwise.”

(Though I held out a small sliver of “but we don’t know anything for sure until L and/or N tell us themselves” hope, which remains true even as I write this.)

Now, let’s talk about Nic and Jake. First, there were those shots from the concert (discussed above). Then, I believe, were the NYC shots (if I’m not confusing the order). In the NYC shots, they were both there, but they weren’t especially intimate in any interpersonal sense. Then, the pap shots on the street posted on DM, ostensibly catching them walking home together, holding hands and arm-in-arm after a night at the pub. With those photos came an onslaught of fandom fury and gossip site reporting about how “Nicola Coughlan confirms her relationship…” Same story runs across a bunch of trashy sites, all saying the same thing and citing an unnamed source talking about how besotted they were, or whatever the quote was.

Admittedly, I was among the furious fans. Not because of what the pictures showed. Again, I was trying to be serene and Zen about them and their private lives. I believed with all my heart that NicLuke belonged together, but if now wasn’t their time, I’d have to wait. I didn’t love that I’d heard he was only 24, but I was trying to balance my efforts to be a non-judgmental person with my discomfort over that issue and reminding myself that her choices are none of my business (unless she chooses Luke!).

So I did my best to refrain from judgment, even as I saw the fandom erupt into toxic madness about whether it was true, whether he was gay, whether the age gap was wrong, whether DM lied about the date, and if they did (which they did), why? But I figured, unless the photos were very, very old, things weren’t likely to have changed in their relationship over a couple weeks, so I wasn’t overly concerned about the date.

However, I was angry about all these stories (basically the same story across the board) announcing that she’d “CONFIRMED” the relationship. It made me very angry that they said she confirmed something when she’d done nothing of the sort. I wasn’t prepared to argue that she wasn’t dating Jake at that point, but why would they all run this story, with this headline, when what actually happened was a paparazzi photographer snapped shots and sold them, then the media drew conclusions from what they saw.

Nicola never confirmed a damn thing. So why were they running this headline so universally?

I was also angry that the photos existed at all. Photos in her neighborhood could reveal her location and put her safety at risk. Also, how did they happen to be there to take those photos late one specific night? Felt like they must have received a tip. But I moved on and forgot about that part.

Time went on and I saw more and more discussion of Jake’s sexuality. I don’t really want to get into that here because I don’t really feel comfortable speculating about anyone unless they choose to explicitly come out, but I did finally start poking around his page, Douglas’s page, etc. and began to understand why people were saying what they were saying. However, I reminded myself that bi/pan-sexuality exists and I wasn’t willing to partake in bi-erasure, so I held my tongue and kept watching.

Now, at this point, I want to remind us all that Nic has always been extremely private and uttered nary a peep in public about her romantic/sexual life. And fair enough. It’s none of our damn business. Also, she’s talked extensively about how women are not just men’s girlfriends and her feminist take on many things and how it doesn’t feel nice to know that people are more interested in her love life than her work. She’s worked freaking hard to achieve the success she’s now enjoying, and she certainly should not be reduced to a woman in a relationship. No matter who is on the other end of that relationship.

(Again here, I feel the need to acknowledge my hypocrisy in writing this, but I really do genuinely love Nic’s work and spirit and activism, etc. as well.)

So, in light of her position on all of that, we wouldn’t expect her to go public with a new love interest. The fact that she was papped with this guy (if indeed he was a love interest) was just an indication of how much her celebrity and profile have grown. There’s greater interest now and she’s more recognizable now, so it’s to be expected that she’d have a harder time keeping her love life private now than in the past. Not so strange then, that she got caught a couple times in paparazzi photos at this point.

However, would she really then go public with that guy? That would mark a radical change in her behavior just when you’d think she’d want to be the most private because the glare of the spotlight is brighter than ever. Still, she allowed a public photo with him, Camilla, and Evan Ross Katz to go out shortly thereafter. If one believed they were dating, that could certainly be interpreted as a launch. Yet, as I said, would she really do that if she were dating him?

Then he started popping up everywhere. I won’t get the chronology here right because I don’t want to research the dates right now, but there was the Charlie xcx concert, in which she appeared with Jake and Dylan, who is out and proud. The Queer premiere where he was just caught in the background of a fan photo. The simultaneously released photos from the red and gold restaurant (with a mysterious third person taking the photos). There was the apparently brunch-time photo of her with Jake and two others, taken by Dylan. And most recently, Louisa’s photo with Jake and Douglas (who is also openly gay and close friends, if not more, with Jake).

I’m not mentioning all the players in all of these because it’s not critical to the story, and I may be forgetting some photos, but there is a point to all of this. First, there’s potentially a notable shift in what she’s allowing to be shared here. Again, historically, she’s never shared anything about her love life. Suddenly, she’s letting him be photographed everywhere. Also, at most of these events, there were other queer participants and/or queer content (the movie premiere).

And while she’s never allowed her romantic life to be shared, you know what she has often shared? Photos with all of her platonic friends, including her huge friend group of many, many gay men. So this trend in what she’s allowing to be shared suggests that she’s telling a story and clarifying Jake’s role in her life.

But then there’s that one mystery release, the simultaneously timed restaurant photo drops. Clearly coordinated, clearly indicating they were there together. No indication about the third party. Why? Just enough to hint that there might be something going on, and to continue wreaking havoc in the fandom.

Because remember that toxic fandom bickering over all of this? The jakolas swearing they’re in love and soon to be engaged and furious at the lukolas for “being blind and refusing to accept the truth and it’s so disrespectful to Nic ('who you claim to love') by disregarding her feelings and treating the love of her life so badly. They keep showing you they’re in love and you won’t listen!” Etc., etc.

Meanwhile, the lukolas fall into a couple camps. By this point, most have decided Nic and Jake aren’t dating, but some remain circumspect. Some scream back at the jakolas, ostensibly in defense of Jake, saying very similar things about “Jake and his friends are doing everything in their power to show you the truth and you refuse to see it.” And a variety of other responses. Everyone’s mad at everyone.

And all of it, every bit of it, keeps us ALL talking about Nicola Coughlan and Luke Newton. Nonstop, every day.

Now, we are nearing the big mic drop of all of this, and I want to say at this point that we need to remember that Nic and Luke are HUMAN BEINGS who have a right to privacy. And they are celebrities living in a world that has an intense interest in their love lives. And sometimes, we might not feel good about the measures they must take to protect their privacy. We might hate those measures. We might feel manipulated, and we are. But if we love and respect them as much as I hope we all do, we can also understand and forgive them for taking such measures.

A quick review of important factors in all of this:

THINGS THAT TELL US IT’S REAL

The Galway trip and that very emotional introduction to Nic’s mom, which looked for all the world like a woman meeting her future son-in-law

The Claddagh ring and how she’s been wearing it

The things reporters, cast, and crew have said in passing and/or posted, not to mention recent open shipping from Ryan Wheeler and Shondaland’s IG

Everything we saw with our own eyes on the world tour, not to mention everything we’ve seen in the BTS

Little droplets of NicLuke over the recent months like Bless the Telephone and (not yet mentioned above) the S4 selfie and the photo of them in costume that Nic said she thought she’d shared, but now it’s ours (while she hasn’t posted any Jake)

The absolute consistency of all of this as a story that makes sense

THINGS THAT MAKE US DOUBT IT’S REAL AND/OR KEEP US GUESSING AND DISCUSSING

The premiere night pap photos (and though I didn’t mention it earlier, the fact that Nic went home that night so she wasn’t around for A’s attendance)

The friend group photos at Soho House with Luke, A and others

The weird LA InStyle photos

The Sorrento swimming photos

The multiple sets of pap photos of Nic and Jake, including grainy night-time neighborhood photos (with a woman walking a dog in the background)

The way every gossip news outlet ran the same “Nicola confirmed her relationship” story with the same headline and the same anonymous quote

The weirdly devoted, intensely defensive jakolas/Jake stans that seem to care about nothing but Jake/jakola out of nowhere and love screaming at and stirring up shit with lukolas

The chaos and constant discussion of all of this over the past 6+ months

The absolute inconsistency of any of this with anything in the top group

So, this mystery just gets deeper and deeper, and none of it makes sense. Every time I’d try to accept that they were just seeing these other people, something would bump in my head. There were just too many weird things that didn’t quite make sense and the biggest, weirdest one of them all was that NICOLA AND LUKE ARE CLEARLY IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER.

So while the pieces would always almost fit, the puzzle never quite took shape. Until two nights ago when I stumbled on @lukolafan ’s page after they liked one of my posts. I scrolled down their page and found a link labeled “Lukola PR Strategies and Fake Narratives.” I cannot scream this loudly enough. GO VISIT THAT LINK!!!!! (I’ll add the links myself later if I have time.)

I did and it led to a series of Reddit posts taking an academic approach to teaching us, the general public (and lukola fans) PR Media Literacy. Among the various topics it discussed were things like:

“PR Firms and Entertainment Media: Coordinating “News” Across Gossip, Entertainment, and Official Publications,” which talks about using anonymous sources, more about staged paparazzi, and repeated narratives (“outlets echo identical stories, reinforcing PR-approved messaging, for example, multiple outlets platforms describing a celebrity ‘rising above’ a controversy, quoting the same anonymous insider” – Sound familiar?)

“The Invisible Hand of Celebrity Privacy: How PR Fabricates Narratives and Manipulates Fans,” which includes ways that PR strategies intentionally manipulate fans to fight/debate celebs faking relationships, and more (sound familiar?)

There’s honestly so much meat in all of these (there are a couple others as well) that they are ALL worth reading. There is definitely some repetition, but still, the content is super insightful and revealing and can help us all be more savvy consumers of media.

But I want to focus on two CRITICAL posts, in particular.

“The Role of Staged Paparazzi and Gossip Outlets in Celebrity PR Campaigns”

The first part of this piece talks about the method for staging fake paparazzi photos to create narratives. Two items of particular note (and I’m excerpting directly):

Quality Control of the Image: While professional photographers use high-quality cameras, staged paparazzi photos are intentionally manipulated to appear grainy or blurry. This adds a layer of authenticity to the photo, making it look as though the photographer stumbled upon the celebrity by chance.

Extra Figures in the Background: Another key tactic in staged paparazzi photos involves the use of background extras—people who might be walking with dogs, pushing strollers, or simply in the vicinity.

Think of Nicola’s photos walking home with Jake, a woman walking a dog behind them. Some of them are clear, but some are quite grainy, despite the fact that professional photographers have great equipment and are more than capable of taking a night-time shot.

Another excerpt…

Gossip Outlets: DeuxMoi and the Symbiotic Relationship with PR Firms

With the rise of user-generated content and anonymously submitted tips, gossip websites have become integral to the modern celebrity PR machine. Sites like DeuxMoi thrive on rumors and speculation, providing a platform for fans and anonymous sources to share celebrity gossip. PR teams exploit these platforms to feed their desired narratives without appearing to directly control the flow of information.

How Gossip Sites Like DeuxMoi Work:

Anonymous Tips and Leaks: PR teams often send anonymous tips to gossip outlets, offering details about celebrity activities or sightings. These tips are deliberately vague, leaving room for interpretation and speculation. Once posted on sites like DeuxMoi, the stories tend to snowball as they are shared across social media and republished by larger outlets.

Fueling Speculation: These posts generate buzz and speculation, keeping celebrities in the public eye without any direct confirmation. Gossip sites become a key player in amplifying the narrative, as fans, influencers, and media outlets continue to discuss and spread the information.

Mutual Benefits: While gossip sites operate independently, there is a mutual benefit to the relationship between them and PR teams. Gossip sites thrive on traffic and engagement, while PR teams can ensure their client’s name stays relevant in the public discourse. By subtly feeding stories, PR teams maintain control over how their celebrity’s narrative unfolds.

The piece goes on to give specific examples like Kendall Jenner and Bad Bunny, Tomdaya, Gigi Hadad and Zayne Malik, etc. then talks about fake fan interactions and how to spot them.

It offers key questions to ask about the photos you see (like what story is it telling and why and who benefits?) and then it gives this example. If your ears aren’t already fully perked, this will do it:

Example: 37-Year-Old Famous Actress and 24-Year-Old Lesser-Known Celebrity

Narrative of Romance or Distraction: In this case, the 37-year-old actress is likely fueling rumors of a relationship with the 24-year-old to either distract from something else in her personal life (like a real romantic partner) or to refresh her public image. The younger celebrity could be hired to play a temporary love interest or interest figure in the media, leading people to speculate whether they are more than just friends.

Creating a Romance or Mystery: The photo of them walking arm-in-arm, laughing, or holding hands might suggest that a romantic connection exists. This could be used to make the actress seem more relatable, desirable, or single, even if there is no romantic involvement behind the scenes.

Diverting Public Focus: If the actress is privately in a relationship with another celebrity or involved in an ongoing controversy, the staged photo with the younger celebrity helps to deflect attention. By inserting a "mystery romance," the public is more interested in who the new partner is, leaving the actress’s real partner or issues to stay out of the spotlight.

PR Stunt to Revitalize Publicity: The actress might not just be looking for romantic gossip but also fresh exposure. A curated paparazzi shot could serve as a PR tool to keep the actress's name in circulation—be it through romantic rumors, new partnerships, or simply new media content to fuel speculation.

Potential Body Double for Real Partner: If the real partner is shying away from the public eye or trying to avoid the media, the younger celebrity might act as a "body double" or decoy. This helps maintain an image of the actress being in a public relationship, while allowing her to keep the real relationship.

Don’t think I need to explain the relevance of this very specific example. There’s a lot more in the post, but I’ll move on for now to the next key post.

“Breadcrumbing and Coordinated Campaigns”

In this piece, they offer first some key breadcrumbing tactics, many of which sound awfully familiar.

Common Types of Breadcrumbs:

Cryptic Social Media Posts: Celebrities post vague messages or abstract references, sparking fan theories. Example: Harry Styles posts cryptic images or quotes, prompting speculation.

Coordinated Social Media Timing: PR teams synchronize posts to create the illusion of a shared narrative. Example: Taylor Swift and Karlie Kloss posted similar content at the same time, fueling relationship rumors.

Accidental Social Media Interactions: Liking posts or commenting on ambiguous tweets creates intimacy and speculation. Example: Kendall Jenner engages with fans on social media, fueling rumors.

Seemingly Innocent Photos: Casual photos subtly hint at a larger narrative. Example: Zendaya and Tom Holland posted photos together, teasing their relationship.

Cryptic? Like Bless the Telephone? Or a mysterious left-handed guy holding a phone in the background while Nic gets ready?

Synchronized like Nic and Jake at that restaurant? Or as far as that goes, like Nic and Luke with the S4 selfie?

Accidental social media interactions? I didn’t go into that here, but we’ve seen lots of odd likes and things, lots of Nic interactions, oh, and those RW and SL likes of late.

Seemingly innocent photos. Like very happy looking S4 pics and the “now it’s yours” BTS photo?

Perhaps most of this could be interpreted as just genuine fan interaction and fan service, which I think it is to some extent. It’s a natural part of the business. But it’s also very often done with intention.

But here’s the more important part of this piece. It gives some case studies (Ben and JLo, Shawn and Camila), then it gives two “abstract” examples.

YOU’LL LOVE THIS. Note that the second example changes to an actor and a musician, but don’t let that fool you. Keep reading for some unmistakable specifics.

Breadcrumbing with a Fake PR Girlfriend: Case Study of Celebrity 007

For Celebrity 007, breadcrumbing is used to create a false narrative about a relationship with a PR girlfriend. This helps maintain fan interest while deflecting attention from the celebrity’s true personal life.

How It Works:

First Breadcrumbs: The PR strategy begins with posts from both the celebrity and the PR girlfriend, hinting at a connection without confirming it. Example: Celebrity 007 posts a picture from a Paris restaurant or cafe in LA and the PR girlfriend shares a similar post from the same location but from a different day with different white trucks in the background (double check the Instyle Stunt images!!!)

Expanding the Narrative: Shared travel posts and indirect interactions continue the illusion of a relationship. Example: Matching geo-tags in posts from Rome suggest they were there together.

Indirect Engagement: Likes, comments, and ambiguous interactions increase intrigue without confirming the relationship. Example: The PR girlfriend comments, “Great to be here with you! 💖,” on Celebrity 007's post.

Paparazzi Shots: Carefully timed candid shots further reinforce the illusion of a relationship. Example: Paparazzi photos of Celebrity 007 and the PR girlfriend walking hand-in-hand, fueling speculation.

Note:

Café in LA, same location, different trucks?

Matching tags in Rome?

Likes and ambiguous interactions

Carefully timed (say at a premiere party) candid paparazzi shops w gf walking hand-in-hand

And then there’s the next one. In the interest of length since this is already hella long, I’ve removed some less relevant parts, but I encourage you to read it yourself.

Breadcrumbing to Hide a Real Relationship: Case Study of Celebrity 009

Why Hide the True Relationship?

In celebrity culture, the decision to keep a relationship private—or hidden—can be a strategic move, driven by a mix of personal privacy and professional interests. Some celebrities may choose to share their personal lives openly, but for others, particularly those who value their privacy or wish to control their public image, keeping a relationship private is key. This is especially relevant for two celebrities who are romantically involved but prefer to maintain discretion, despite public curiosity about their relationship.

Whether it’s a high-profile couple like Beyoncé and Jay-Z, or a less conspicuous pairing, the decision to hide the true nature of a romantic relationship often involves balancing personal desires with career strategy. In this scenario, let’s explore why two celebrities might choose to keep their relationship under wraps and the complex PR considerations that lead them to do so.

Media Scrutiny/Escaping Constant Surveillance: Navigating the Spotlight Together (I’ve combined two sections here for length)

When two celebrities become romantically involved, the media will inevitably take notice. The relationship can quickly become the focal point of constant headlines, paparazzi photos, and gossip columns. For celebrities who value their privacy, this level of scrutiny can feel overwhelming, as every public appearance or moment shared can quickly turn into speculation, even if the couple doesn’t wish to attract attention.

Romanticized Expectations: The Pressure of Perfection

Media scrutiny often creates an unrealistic, romanticized version of a celebrity relationship. Fans and the public tend to project their fantasies onto famous couples, imagining them as the perfect, unbreakable pairing. The real complexities of a relationship—differences, compromises, and struggles—often don't fit neatly into the idealized narratives created by the public.

For a couple like Actor A and Musician B, the pressure to live up to these idealized expectations can be exhausting. By choosing to keep their relationship private, they can avoid the constant pressure to fit into a preconceived mold. Hiding the relationship from public view allows them to keep things grounded and avoid being turned into a media spectacle.

Brand Control: Managing the Image of "Singleness" or "Availability"

For many celebrities, their public image is closely tied to their brand, and that brand may depend on their perceived "availability" or their status as desirable, unattached individuals. The way the public perceives a celebrity’s romantic life—whether they are single, dating, or in a long-term relationship—can have a significant impact on their professional success and marketability.

Creating Room for Desire: The Allure of the Single Celebrity

Consider Actor A, a leading man known for portraying romantic heroes on screen. The public’s perception of Actor A as a single, unattainable figure is key to their marketability, both in the media and as a brand. If they were to publicly reveal a relationship with Musician B, it could diminish that aura of unattainability. Similarly, Musician B may want to maintain a flirtatious public persona, which could be undermined if they were publicly involved with someone. By keeping the relationship private, both celebrities retain the allure of being desirable and unattached, feeding into the fantasies of their fans.

Avoiding the "Couple" Brand: Risk of Being Reduced to a Package Deal

When a high-profile couple’s relationship is made public, they may become known less for their individual work and more for their collective identity as a couple. In some cases, the couple's public appearances or shared brand messages may overshadow their individual projects. Think of Beyoncé and Jay-Z, who have an incredibly powerful couple brand that often eclipses their solo endeavors in the media. For celebrities like Actor A and Musician B, the fear of being seen as a "package deal" might drive them to hide their relationship. This allows both to maintain their distinct identities, keeping their projects and brands separate and preventing the public from viewing them solely as a pair.

Respecting Boundaries: The Vulnerability of Celebrity Relationships

Even when two celebrities are involved, the vulnerabilities of a relationship can become the focus of media attention if they go public. Romantic relationships—especially those in the high-pressure world of celebrity—are often fraught with ups and downs. The public might demand to know every detail, fueling rumors of breakups, infidelities, or relationship drama. By keeping their romance under wraps, Actor A and Musician B can avoid becoming the subject of constant gossip and can maintain some semblance of normalcy in their private lives.

Avoiding Disruptive Publicity

Celebrity relationships often attract media scrutiny not only about their romantic lives but also about how their relationship affects their careers. The public and the media often delve into the smallest details, speculating about how the relationship might impact their professional trajectories, previous relationships, or future projects.

Career Disruption: The Challenge of Balancing Love and Work

For celebrities like Musician B, a new relationship can take attention away from their upcoming album release or concert tour. The media’s obsession with their personal life might overshadow the launch of a new professional project. Similarly, if Actor A is in the middle of promoting a film or preparing for a big role, the press could focus more on their relationship than their craft, disrupting the flow of their work.

I won’t bother reviewing the relevance of all of the above. I’m sure you can see it plainly for yourself. The examples are absolutely, positively referencing Nicola and Luke, and the reasons for hiding it are super relevant. Especially boundaries, disruption, pressure to be perfect, and being reduced to a package deal.

Now at this point, it’s worth asking the question, do we trust this source? I don’t actually know who posted this content, so I can’t verify their credentials. Perhaps this is yet another PR person’s tricky efforts to continually confuse us and keep us guessing? That seems unlikely since the entire purpose is to help lift the veil on all the other tricks. If you wanted the other tricks to be effective, you’d hardly be revealing them to your target audiences.

But even setting that very logical assumption aside, the reason I know with every fiber of my being that it’s true is that this is literally the only version of events that makes sense of absolutely everything.

All those mysterious and confusing signals, all those weird photos and changes in behavior, all the inconsistencies between what we all saw with our own eyes (they are IN LOVE) and what we saw subsequently with the adjacents, all the tiny Lukola crumbs keeping us hanging on, and all the fandom bickering, especially from bizarrely rabid jakolas.

Every bit of it makes complete sense if we accept that Nic, Luke, and their PR teams have been using a classic PR handbook to distract us from the very real truth that they are together and in love.

Does it hurt to know we’ve been manipulated? You bet it does! But I quickly accepted that because I was so happy to have the truth verified at last. And because I understand why they would do it.

Relationships are hard enough when lived in private. No relationship, no matter how much people love each other, is without challenge. Even soulmates have issues to navigate. Can you imagine the pressure on them if the whole world was watching?

And their lives have added challenges. Travel and separation. Long work schedules that may often be at odds. Possibly romantic scenes with future co-stars that could stir up uncomfortable feelings. Career ups and downs that may not always synch up. Fans and media watching their every move, dissecting them, judging them, rooting for them, and just putting massive pressure on them. What if they fail? They’re letting down the whole world, not just themselves.

And what about Nic’s longstanding demand for privacy? And her emphasis that no woman is just some dude’s girlfriend. She wants to be known for her own work and achievement and passions, not for who she dates or marries. Even if it is wonderful Luke.

Likewise, Luke is just now achieving a newfound level of success. This is a moment for him to seize and make the most of. Being a hot, sexy, ostensibly single guy is good for his brand right now. Even if we know he loves Nicola, his stans need to be able to fantasize about him, which is easier if his relationship is unconfirmed.

And let’s face it, if they come out as a couple, IT WILL BE LUKOLA all the time. That will be the story. Certainly if they’d come out during the World Tour, every question at every stop would be about them and their personal “friends to lovers story.” It would be irresistible to reporters. Too good a story to ignore. And they’d spend way more time talking about their personal lives than about their work. Does that sound like something either of them would want?

And one last thing. Back to their changes in behavior. Does it make more sense that Nicola, who has always been super private about her love life, would suddenly be willing to be photographed constantly with her new bf Jake? Or that Jake is not her bf and she’s keeping her actual bf (or fiancé or husband) secret?

Meanwhile, Luke, who has always been open about his relationships in the past suddenly decides to tighten up and share absolutely nothing about his private life? Well, that makes complete sense if he’s now in a relationship with a woman who is famously private and shares not one word publicly. Suddenly, literally everything makes sense and is entirely consistent.

So there it is, folks. To me, this is the Holy Grail. There’s not a doubt left in my mind about them. They’re together and everything else – literally everything else – is a decoy and a distraction, and every bit of it comes straight from the PR playbook.

I’d like to maintain a sliver of hope that they’re leaving much of it to their teams and they’re not in on the worst of it, but in any case, I don’t blame them one bit for trying to protect their love. It’s too special to let it be destroyed by public consumption. You gotta do what you gotta do.

Given that I don’t actually know them and haven’t confirmed anything directly, I’ll leave 1.5% room for doubt, and adjust my certainty to 98.5%.

And you may dismiss all of this and draw very different conclusions, which is okay, too. But if I’m being really honest, I’m actually 1,000% sure. And I couldn’t be happier for them.

What do we do now? That’s up to each of us. Personally, I’m going to be blissfully happy for them, not sweat any of the distractions, let them live as quietly as they like, and patiently await the day (whether it’s very soon or far in the future) when they finally go public. I hope you’ll do the same.

And until then, I’m going to keep watching Lukola videos on repeat.

[dazzlerwriting]

cowboy take me away

j.seresin x reader

pictures not mine, credits to pinterest

1k words

summary: sort of inspired by “Cowboy Take Me Away” by The Chicks. (great song you should check it out!) what was supposed to be a celebratory night, turns into reader sitting alone at a bar in texas. that is until a blonde aviator, visiting home, notices her.

Warnings: fluff! reader has not great friends. talks about an ex boyfriend. Alcohol consumption. Jake Seresin being a charming man? She/her pronouns are used and reader is said to be shorter than jake! no use of y/n!

authors note: first fic!! lmk what you think!

Sitting alone in a bar in the middle of Austin, Texas was not how you thought your Saturday was going to go. You had recently graduated from University of Texas in Austin so you thought you would be out with your boyfriend and friends, celebrating the fact that you were finally going to go to the University of California San Diego to get your masters in Educational Studies. But you just broke up with your boyfriend due to his extreme lack of interest in your relationship. He literally shrugged when you told him it was over. On top of that your friends seemingly forgot that you had plans, go figure.

So now you were sitting in some bar, under the soft disco lighting, with cowboy hats everywhere, fiddling with the straw in your drink, wondering how it could all go sour so fast.

“Is this seat taken?” a strong voice with a southern drawl asked. You whipped your head so fast you thought you could see the looney tunes birds flying, but no, what you saw was a man with sandy blonde hair and eyes that could rival the trees in the Ozarks. “Oh! Um N-no. No, it’s not.” He took his seat with a devilish smirk and waved down the bartender to order another drink for himself. While doing so you missed the part where he ordered you another drink. You were too busy roaming your eyes from the black Stetson that sat on top of his head, to the shirt that said “US Navy” & “H_ngm_n” on the pocket, and finally to the steel-toed cowboy boots that sat on his feet.

You heard a cough, and that’s when you realized he had been talking to you and was a bit closer now. Get it together he just asked a simple question and you just got out of a relationship, you scolded yourself. “Sorry, sorry what did you say?”

The smirk on his face just grows a bit bigger while replying, “I was just asking why a pretty girl like you looks so defeated in the most lively bar in all of Austin?”

Great. He’s charming and astute apparently. Now you can either lie to this very handsome man, or you can become the stereotypical person who dumps everything at the bar. Saved by the bell, or bartender in this case, because he delivers the drinks to you both, making the smirk on this man’s face slide to a polite smile, and also giving you a sense of reprieve at this moment.

“I’m Jake by the way, sorry if the question was too intense for an introduction. Can’t help but be curious.” You give him your name and the smirk is back way too quickly. “Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he replied, his smirk turning to a kind smile. “Does that work on all of the girls?” you snap back quickly. He looks a bit taken aback by the question, but that doesn’t deter him one bit, “Wouldn’t know, did it work on you?”

Sighing you finally turn to face him fully, taking in his form once again. After the day you’ve had, you decide you’ll entertain him for a bit, “Ya know what cowboy, it might’ve but don’t let that get to your head. We don’t need that cowboy hat to fall off.” Jake takes you in for a minute and gives you a smile that might be the sweetest thing you’ve seen in a bit. “So you gonna tell me why you’re lookin’ all sad in the middle of this bar?” he asks you once again, and you finally decide you need to at least tell someone or you might cry. So with your head down and while fidgeting with your hands, you tell him, “I just got accepted into the master’s program I applied for and to celebrate I was gonna meet my boyfriend and friends here. As you can see neither are here. I broke up with him and my friends all forgot or something, who knows.” You finally take a breath and look back up to see him looking at you with the slightest hint of concern.

He shakes his head and laughs gently. “Well, I guess congratulations are in order for the graduate, and for getting rid of the boyfriend who didn’t appreciate the beauty in his life.” With a soft smile, he tips his beer towards you and you do the same.

He abruptly stands up and holds out his hand, a silent question for a dance. You take it with a quizzical look on your face, and he drags you to the middle of the dance floor; now that you’re there, you look around and see that this place has cleared out a bit since you first got here. He looks down at you with a bit of adoration and says “A congratulatory dance is a necessity.”

He grabs your hips, while you wrap your arms around his neck, and it’s at this moment you realize that you would much rather be here, wrapped in this stranger’s arms, dancing to “Cowboy Take Me Away” than in the silence that your ex would’ve given. Looking at Jake with a smirk on your face, “The song is real fitting if you ask me, cowboy.” Your fingers are playing with the soft hair at the bottom of his head, and for a second it’s like a cat reacting to someone scratching their head. You’d be shocked if he didn’t start purring.

“Is it? I hadn’t noticed,” he replies with a soft chuckle. Looking into each other’s eyes, you stand on your toes, and you both lean in… but of course, nothing would go as planned. His cowboy hat hits you right in the forehead.

You pull back from each other and both break out into a fit of giggles. Jake looks at you with a soft smile, tips his cowboy hat back, and leans in again. This time your lips meet in a delicate kiss, his lips are soft and you can smell a hint of cologne on him. Warmth fills your cheeks, the kiss lasting only a matter of seconds, but it's just enough time for everything around you to disappear. When the kiss is over, your foreheads meet and you both continue swaying under the reflected disco lighting. Maybe tonight is way better than you originally planned.

[venus-haze]

Stakeout (Billy Butcher x Reader)

Summary: Ever since you started working with Butcher and The Boys again, life has been exciting, invigorating—and stressful. During a stakeout, Butcher mixes the personal with the professional to help you relieve some of the tension you’ve been carrying around.

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. Takes place vaguely in season 1. Do not interact if you're under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: Sexually explicit content involving semi-public fingering, light degradation, and voyeurism (Butcher is insane. So is Homelander.)

You hadn’t been on a stakeout in years when Butcher asked—demanded, really—that you come along with him to keep an eye on Vought Tower overnight. Something about letting Hughie get some sleep while you two tried to keep tabs on A-Train’s comings and goings. It was easy enough to see through his bullshit, but rather than call him on it, boredom from your day job and curiosity of what he had up his sleeve made you agree.

Butcher at least had the decency to pick up some snacks from a bodega near your apartment, mostly beef jerky and bags of chips. Kept the radio low on some classic rock station, the two of you sitting in near silence across the street from the tower for the better part of an hour. His car hadn’t changed much from the last time you were in it. Except for the new pine tree air freshener—though new was a stretch. It’d long since lost its scent, but the blue wasn’t as sun-bleached as the old one. Funny, the things you remember.

“This feels like a waste of time. Even if we were here to spy on A-Train, which you and I both know we’re not, there’s no way we’d be able to actually see him leave and come back,” you finally said. “And Homelander wouldn’t leave out of Vought’s front door unless he was doing some publicity to appeal to us plebeians.”

“You got a point.”

“So what’re we doing here?” 

“Y’think the cunt can see us?” he asked.

“Who? Homelander?”

“Yeah.”

“Isn’t the point of a stakeout that we’re not supposed to be seen?”

“S’why I’m asking, love.”

You sighed. “Unless he’s somewhere we can’t see him, then I guess not.”

“Perfect.”

He put his hand on your knee, his fingers inching their way up your pencil skirt. You didn’t have time to change out of your office clothes when Butcher picked you up at your apartment. Even though you were back with his crew, you hadn’t quit your day job just yet, working for some stupid startup that somehow landed a contract with Vought. Gave you some insight into what they were up to, at least made your presence in the tower the least suspicious of anyone else, able to say you were there for business.

You shifted in the passenger seat a bit. “Butcher, what’re you—“

“Tryin’ to help you relax,” he said, his fingers brushing your clit through your panties. “You’ve been tense as hell lately.”

You chewed on your bottom lip. He was right. Linking up with Butcher again after so many years gave you a renewed sense of purpose, but with that came the stress, the late nights, the close calls. In the comfort of his car, just the two of you where no one else could see, maybe you could let him take control for a while.

“How tense, Butcher?” you asked, leaning back in the seat. “Tell me.”

“Workin’ yourself too hard for a bunch of sorry pricks,” he said, his voice low and husky as he tugged at your panties. You lifted your hips so he could pull them to your knees. “Can’t have that when I need you now, yeah?”

You nodded breathlessly as he slid two fingers inside you, pumping them in and out slowly, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit. His gaze, dark and intense, always had a way of making you feel acutely aware of his attention on you, even when you weren't looking at him. Sometimes unnerving, but in cases like this, utterly exposed despite being fully clothed.

“Been a long time, huh? You miss this? You miss when I'd take care of your cunt?”

“Yes,” you moaned. “God, Butcher, keep going.”

“Thought of callin’ you a few times the past few years. You were always a good fuck,” he husked, his lips, his rough beard brushing across your neck and jaw. “Look at you now, people walking by, and you don’t give a damn who can see you, long as you get off, huh?”

“Butcher—“

“Bet if I’d taken my cock out instead, you’d have sucked me off. Take it all like the cockslut I know you are. You fuck anyone else the past few years? They know how to treat you? Know how to make you feel good?”

“Yes—No—I don’t know.”

“Fuckin’ hell, you’re pretty when you’re close. How close are you, love?”

“Fuck—I’m close. I’m so fucking close. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop,” you babbled, choking out a moan when he slipped a third finger inside you. “Keep going, just like that.”

He was pushing you, knew your limits better than anyone, and as much as you hated to admit it, you needed it. Hadn’t realized until then how long it’d been since you’d really been fucked until he curled his fingers inside you, and your brain felt like someone poured soda over it, your skin burning for more.

You didn’t care who saw, all you cared about was getting there, and you were so fucking close it made you screw your eyes shut and cry out in frustration. Jesus, no wonder you were willing to jump back in when Butcher showed up on your doorstep. Everyday was bland, the same old bullshit. There was plenty of bullshit when it came to Butcher and whatever harebrained schemes he came up with, but it was a hell of a lot more fun than typing up reports and sitting through meetings.

“C’mon, love. Put on a show. Let me hear ya.”

You opened your eyes, only to catch Butcher staring out the windshield. Following his gaze, you let out a panicked whine upon seeing a red glow honed in on you, long enough to be sure he was watching. You came on Butcher’s fingers with a perverse moan, pleasure coursing through you as you dug your fingers into the console. You threw your head back, your hips jerking upward as you rode out your orgasm on his hand. 

Butcher was relentless when he wanted to be, and you weakly tapped out, squeezing his muscular arm, whining a bit nevertheless when he pulled his hand away. Sparing another glance at the windshield, the red glow was gone. Homelander was gone.

You told yourself it was the surge of fear-fueled adrenaline that brought you over the edge, not exhilaration at being seen, being caught in such a vulnerable state by the most powerful supe in the world. Definitely not. But you kind of hated yourself for not feeling more humiliated, instead, as you obsessively replayed the scene in your head as Butcher drove down the street, you were thrilled by it. 

Still, he should’ve fucking warned you, given you some kind of heads up. You held your tongue until you were sure the sound of traffic would hide your voice from any superpowered hearing.

“You fucking prick!” you hissed, smacking his shoulder. “You banked on Homelander being enough of a pervert to watch us?”

“Killed two birds with one stone. You feel better now, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you reluctantly conceded.

“Attagirl.” He grinned. “I think I know where the cunt’s going.”

You balked. “I can’t look him in the eye after this.”

“You kind of already did.”

“Fuck you, Butcher.”

He glanced at you again, squeezing your thigh. “I’ll make it up to you later, love. Don’t you worry.”

[jakesangel]

jake wanting your attention ><

jake being needy of your attention is truly so so devastating but you can't help to tease him about it.

his is always on yours. when he enters a room, his eyes would always unconsciously searching for yours. in a group setting, he isn't too much into talking but more like reflecting your reaction, laughing when you do. so he always expect the same for you. but, of course, sometimes little stuff can take up your mind. so when you came over his dorm, waiting for him in his bed while he takes a shower, he was the happiest but why would you be busy with your phone. what is more important than your boyfriend ? firstly, he would stand there n look at you w a :] smile thinking of how to annoy you into giving him attention. what you doing, love ? he asks w expectant eyes coming closer to the bed. as he lays down on you, you just hummed not even daring to look away the screen. he would lay both of his hands on top of each other on your stomach, his head on them, looking at you w your phone obstructing his view. he also isn't someone patient, so he would snatch ur phone right way then have the biggest smile on his face hi again, baby. i'm done w my shower, can we kiss now ?

jake loves going on dates outside w you. taking walks w layla on sunny days is so healing to him. that also means seeing you all dolled up with pretty skirt or dress he bought you. his two favorite girls, how can he not enjoy himself. but of course, it's today when you run up to one of your friend. jake would always say hi and wait for you guys chat to finish. he knows basic manners. but your interaction w that person never ended and jake can't help but feel sad. today was supposed to be for him n layla's. why is this person taking him away from them. so to remind you / and this person/ of his presence jake would come closer to you, and detach his hand locked w yours to hold your waist instead. his frown would get bigger, not caring about the person in front of him, if don't give him a sign that you acknowledged him. he wouldn't mind back hugging you, n kissing your neck in public if that means i'll be back to him. it always put your interlocutor uncomfortable and always bid there goodbyes, making jake smiles showing his teeth.

as munch as jakes loves staring at you when you do the dishes, today he didn't come over to not get his cuddles or his kisses. he wouldn't want to disturb you as he came by unnoticed but he misses you. he would try to wait, puppy eyes strained on your figures debating whether he can be annoying today or not. and once he makes up his mind, he would come closer to you, hugging you behind your back, his head would drop on your shoulder, neediness taking over him. how can you let your baby all alone ? don't you miss me ?, he says w a pout, as his head face your back, moving back n forth on it like a cat. i'm always missing you, binging his arm around you to put both of his hands on the side of your waist, his head then going to the other side of your back. i'm always good to you, can't i have one kiss ? please ?, still looking at you w puppy eyes. if you feel like teasing him, giving him silence or just a small kiss on his forehead. he would keep brushing his face on your body whining. please, my y/n baby, just one. i'll leave you be then. i promise. he would try to negotiate.

and of course kissing him would put a smile on his face, accepting just one for now. he would but his head on top of yours, patiently waiting for when you'll be done. tho it wouldn't last long, but pretending to not pay attention to him is also fun, no ?

notes : a bit rushed i’m sorry ㅠㅠ

@imaluckygirl @luvj4key @heeseungswifefr @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby @jaeyunpinkyring

[viaviavie]

SEEKING DREAMLIGHT | STONE OF FRIENDSHIP | 1

in which you return to twisted wonderland. do you recall the first gift you were given when you came to this place years ago? you were all alone then, with no one to run and turn to. by the end of your adventure, you were surrounded with so many gifts? can you tell me who the first ones were? your beloved house of cards; they welcome you once more.

SUMMARY: based on disney’s dreamlight valley. years after the ramshackle prefect had left twisted wonderland, former students suddenly find themselves back in night raven college with missing memories and dreams of a magicless student they were supposed to know. an older prefect finally makes a return to a shell of the fantasy you once lived, falling in love once more with what was forgotten.

FEATURING: heartslabyul

NOTES: rather than putting everything in one sitting, i have made a strategic solution to split up the story into even more sections.

[ INDEX ] [ PREVIOUS ] [ NEXT ]

Strong, hardened muscle was what enveloped your form, followed by the weight that nearly toppled you down on the balcony. Deuce never wasted a second contemplating your existence when he ran to the top of the stairway to grab your shoulders. He has grown much bigger now, and so have you. In spite of all the years that had passed since your initial disappearance, Deuce discards all unfamiliarity as he crushes you against his chest. Maybe it was the hopelessness of this place that drove him to hold you, washed away by the pure joy of finding what has been lost. "It's been so long," He whispers, afraid that you would disappear into dust if he dared to let go. "I'm really happy to see you, Prefect." 

And Ace stares from a distance, almost hesitant to even affirm himself that you were real. The large direbeast trots up the stairway, but the redhead remains at the bottom. Unbeknownst to you, who had been so engrossed into your happy reunion, he clenches his teeth and grinds down with such force that his jaw has begun to ache. 

"I missed you too, Deuce." You tell the taller boy— man, taking the time to acknowledge how much taller had gotten. 

Deuce pauses, face freezing once he took notice of what little distance was shared between you both. His fingers hesitantly loosened themselves on your shoulders, and he pulled back. That hopeful expression on his features never wavers, and he finally lets out a sigh of relief. You have not disappeared at all. 

Before he could even utter a word, Ace cut him off as he climbed the stairway. "You look well, Prefect." You finally take a good look at the redhead who still donned that heart on his eye. Deuce swallows to himself, stealing your attention once more while he rubbed the back of his neck with sheer embarrassment. "Sorry, we're just... so surprised to see you again." He says in a quieter tone now, shifting to the side as Ace stands before you. 

His expression is cold, unreadable if anything. You cannot help but find yourself unable to meet his eyes as he stares. "Both of you look so grown up." You breathed out. Ace says nothing, and it forces Deuce to speak in his place. "I guess we did. You look different too, Prefect." There is a gentleness in Deuce’s tone, something that has not changed in the years that came to pass. And yet, Ace continues to unnerve you with the way he glares at you subtly. You do not understand.

There was no time to dwell on nostalgia or the mysteries of the heart, however.

Clearing your throat, you make a slight gesture to the thorns obscuring the windows. "Do you know what happened here?" You asked them. Ace shook his head, tucking his hands into his pockets with indifference. "No. One day, I'm going about my business and suddenly, I couldn't remember a damn thing before I woke up here in the dorm." Deuce nodded his head, eyebrows knitted together in concern. "Yeah, the same thing happened to me. We both woke up in Ramshackle together." Deuce continues as he walked toward the thorns, reaching out a gloved hand across the window. With a tight grip, he attempts to break away the plant with his bare hand, but to no avail. "We've been stuck out here on campus ever since. The exit is completely covered with thorns, and our magic is useless against them." 

You grimace, crossing your arms until your eyes flicker across the familiar checkered pattern across their clothes. It suddenly dawns on you as you glance down at your own attire; the Ramshackle dorm uniform that you do not recall wearing. Heartslabyul, the name is whispered into your ears as you come to the realization that there were five of them, not two. "Is it just the two of you here?" Much to your lock, Deuce grunts in disagreement. 

"I don't think so. We have explored as much as we can, but plenty of areas are barred off by either thorns or locks.” Your interest is piqued at the mention of ‘locks’, and Ace knows it by the way you look up at them with intent. Skully grins in the shadows as Grim pounces onto the railings, eager to move.

“Where?”

There was once a point in time where Ace and Deuce were at their most suffocating. One may never find the Prefect truly alone, not when the two Heartslabyul students were often at your side like two moving pillars. Some things never change, you think to yourself as two large backs obscure your view as your party walks down the long dark hallway of the campus building. Skully is not too far behind, stalking quietly with that excited grin of his. His presence has been questioned, but Skully insists that he only wishes to accompany and aid your quest to escape. Considering that he has been nothing but helpful in a world surrounded by thorns and blot, there was no room for complaint.

You remember this space even better now as Deuce holds up an old oil lantern in his hand. It was the very place you awoke in, your opened coffin undisturbed. “You woke up here? In the Room of Mirrors?” Deuce asks you, replied by Grim’s yowl. 

“I found the Prefect here, just the Prefect.” 

“We’re here.” Wading in the darkness, you found yourself crashing into Ace’s back. Followed by a grunt emitted from his chest, you can see the way he scowls at you. Before you can even mutter an apology, the redhead cuts you off as he moves to the side.

A red glow obscures your vision, the light coming from the mirror’s warped reflection. You recall now; it is the Mirror to Heartslabyul.

The mirror is covered with thorns upon thorns that had ensnared it, threatening to prick all those that attempt to untangle their way through. However, at the center of such greenery, was a metal padlock. 

Your fingers grasp the metal key in your pocket, itching to solve this mystery as you used to many years ago. 

"Skully, what do you think?" You murmured. Still holding that unsettling smile on his face, the tall man stretches himself forward, peering at the padlock. Ever so eager, he reaches a gloved hand out to touch it, but the magic oozing from the lock only serves to burn him with the slightest brush. Skully does not let weakness show as he pulls back, gently resting his palms over your shoulders and bending down to reach your ears. "Every lock has a key somewhere, my dear! Do you perhaps have its partner?"

They all stare at you as you fish a metal key from your pocket. "I have this." Your excitement is dampened by the way Ace narrows his eyes at you, stepping into your space as if confronting you. "Where did you find it? Deuce and I spent hours searching for a key." There is a certain poison on his tongue that makes you frown, but you cannot tell if that has always been a part of his personality anymore. Your gaze shifts down onto the key, unable to continue meeting his scarlet eyes. "I'm not sure. I woke up with it in my possession when Grim found me in my coffin." 

Thankfully, Deuce steps in and pats your shoulder with reassurance. "Let's give it a shot, Prefect!" A grin works its way up your face as Deuce cracks his knuckles with that determined grin on his face, a remnant of an old habit from the past. Ace averts his eyes, arms crossed with forced indifference as you approach the glowing mirror. Perhaps it was confidence or a sort of arrogance that fuels your bravery, but the key glows red in your hand as you come closer and closer, slipping it into the hole.

And with a successful twist, the red glow fades into white. 

Thorns had begun to shift, slowly wriggling and dancing onto the back of the mirror until they were no longer. The padlock, itself, vanishes into the light before you and now, the mirror is open for passage. 

A heavy weight has suddenly been pushed onto your back, and you could only balance yourself once more as Grim’s furry ear brushes against your cheek. “Henchman, it worked!” He grins excitedly, followed by sounds of victory coming from Deuce. Ace is eerily silent, his expression bored and fixed. He ignores your depleted expression once you look back at him, even making his way past you without concern. 

“I’ll go in first. If I don’t come out, then you can assume it’s okay to go through.” Ace grunted, only sparing a glance at a conflicted Deuce who nodded in agreement. You never get a chance to protest for his safety as he slips through the mirror hastily. His friend could only sigh, placing an assuring hand on your shoulder. 

“Don’t worry about Ace…” Deuce sighed, grimacing as he looked at the mirror. “He’ll come around.” Words are lost on your tongue, simmering in your own defeat. You cannot exactly pinpoint what you had done wrong to make Ace act so cold, not when you had barely reunited with him only an hour ago. Such lamentations are lost on you, however, as Grim huffs to himself. “I’m going in next!” He yells as he pounces from your shoulder into the mirror. 

Deuce readies you, holding onto your arm. He glances at you for permission, and you take a moment to look back at Skully who seemed to be too engrossed with staring at the other thorn-riddled mirrors in the room. "Are you coming, Skully?" You called out. The tall man looks back at you, standing straight before lowering his torso into a bow. "It'd be best if I stayed out here, my dear." He crooned with that fixated smile on his face. "You never know if you'll need someone to fetch you from the outside." However he will know when to fetch you, you do not know. If Skully was able to protect you once, he can surely protect himself too. 

With a wave, you nod back at Deuce who grins at you. His hand grips onto yours firmly as both of you take a step through the mirror, obscured in the light. Skully is smiling still, blowing a kiss at your disappearing figure.

"Take care, my dear! Do bring back a tart for me!"

Roses. It had always smelled like roses in Heartslabyul, if not cake or red fruit. Everything was red, white, perhaps checkered or not like a chessboard. There was black, but not this much. Even with the scent of roses obscuring your senses, it does nothing to deter the scent of ink and blot that had split and bubbled across the gardens and the statues. 

It frightens you, and you cannot reach into the crevices of your mind to find comfort in the memory of an Unbirthday Party. You are never even given the chance to try as you hear Ace bark from afar. “About time you both got here. Quickly, quickly!” Deuce is quick on his feet, but his hold on you does not cease when you notice that his hand is still gripping your own. “Man, it’s been ages since I was last here. It doesn’t look that different.” He uttered, marveling at the ink-stained world before him. 

Something else catches your eye, however. Shuffling along the guidelines of the supposed-garden maze are Heartsalbyul students, whose faces were obscured with ink. They hustle about, carrying cans of paint and carpentry supplies. “There are students here!” You whisper. Just as Deuce was ready to confront the group, Ace clicks his tongue. “Don’t bother,” 

You never took the time to realize how much Ace had grown from the shadow of a first-year. Since when had he been taking initiative? “Grim’s been trying to grab their attention for a while now. They phase through him like ghosts.” You fall silent, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. It was evident that something terrible had happened here, but too many pieces of the puzzle were missing. 

Your thoughts were quickly cut off by a quiet purr from the distance. Grim turns a corner, his little ribbon flying through the air as he pounces forward in a hurry. Immediately, he stops before you, curling his tail in endearment. Just as you used to, you found yourself crouching down, kneading your fingers against his head. There were four small envelopes held between his teeth. “What’d you find, Grim?” You murmur, taking the envelopes into your possession.

Two shadows are casted behind you, and you could only find some relief in their familiarity. Deuce takes an envelope, Ace takes another, and you are all left to read its contents. “I haven’t gotten one of these in ages!” Deuce exclaimed, eyes wide as his finger ran over his name on the envelope. “Invitations to today’s Unbirthday Party?” You ask, slipping the cardstock out from the opening. “Maybe we will get more answers if we attend.” 

Ace lets out a noise of concern as he nudges your shoulder. “Look at this,” His finger points at the fine writing on the card.

Please paint the roses red.

Please bring a white tablecloth to the Unbirthday Party.

Please bring the sleeping dormouse to the Unbirthday Party.

Please welcome the Prefect to the Unbirthday Party.

Your blood runs cold at the final statement. You had barely been here for even a minute, and it seems that someone— something knew you were here. 

Grim is not blind to how your expression is stricken with fear. No longer a kitten now, he bumps his head against your knee and meows softly, snapping you out of your train of thought. You sigh, followed by Deuce’s grunt. “Who do you think wrote this?” His dark eyes meet Ace’s scarlet ones that avoid him, not wanting to even think on the mystery. “Beats me.” Deuce opens his mouth, and his hand is already reaching out to grab the other’s shoulder, but Grim’s hiss cuts him off.

“There’s something else, Henchman!” 

All eyes are trained onto the little direbeast that bared his fangs. “Someone’s trapped in the gardens! Tried sniffing 'em out, but there’s no end to the hedges.” Rising to your feet, you frown as you glance at the maze entrance. The white roses that had been growing from the bushes had either been wilting or were stained in ink, the substance dripping onto the ground. “Looks like magic’s got something to do with it.” You rasped, allowing your feet to carry you forward.

The concerned calls for you were largely ignored, not when curiosity drove you further. It wasn’t as if Alice gave any true regard for her safety when exploring the rest of Wonderland in her tale, and neither did you. You march along the dirt path, following the right side of each and every turn until you find yourself back at the start. Grim, who had been trailing at your side, groaned in annoyance. “It’s bringing us in circles!” He scowled, pawing at your knee. 

A small bush is covered in white roses, untouched by decay or blot. And another, and another few more down a row. 

You pause, staring at the plant intensely. "An Unbirthday Party," You murmur, hearing footsteps catch up to you until all that is left is Deuce and Ace’s shallow panting. The odd plant catches their attention as well, and it does not take long for Ace to lick his lips into a smirk. "Deuce, don't you remember that rule?" The dark haired boy tilts his head towards the other, confusion evident in his clueless blink. 

"What rule?" 

"The roses must be painted red for Unbirthday Parties.” 

Now, that jogged Deuce’s memory. How could he possibly forget after spending three years painting those goddamn roses red? “Yeah?” Taking out his pen, the man sighs in relief. At the very least, they wouldn’t be doing this manually. Ace is grinning now, having fished out his own pen and pointed it at a white rose. “Let’s get painting.” 

They are quicker than you remember, much more agile in the way they flick their wrists and channel color into those blooms. “You remembered the rules, Ace?” You murmur, awe in your voice. It brings a nostalgic sweetness to your heart when Ace grins at you, seeking validation as he always had when you were present. “Of course, I did. I became the housewarden in our third year. Isn’t that right, Deuce?” He boasted, his ego all the more stroked by the way your jaw falls slack. The other only nods in admittance, rolling his eyes at his friend. 

“What?!” 

Cackling along, Ace finishes painting an entire rose bush red. “Yep, could you believe that? Memorized all 810 rules in total.” For the first time since you have been reunited with him, you find yourself feeling warm talking to the redhead. “You’re amazing, Ace.” You breathe out, sneaking to Deuce’s side as the former delinquent finishes painting one of the bushes. The joy was immediately taken away from your expression when Ace pauses, melting back down into a cold scowl as he turns away. “Tch,” He clicks, moving onto the next bush. 

You are unable to help with the lack of supplies, but that does not stop you from keeping Deuce company. Your fingers brush against a white rose, playing with the soft petals. “I missed doing this with both of you.” You sigh softly, allowing a moment of vulnerability. Deuce slows in his movements, taking the time to glance at your somber expression. He smiles, attempting to lighten the mood. “Me too.” To no avail, you shift uncomfortably in your stance as you continue cupping the rose. “Deuce,” He clenches his jaw, as if afraid of what you are about to ask of him.

“Do you remember what happened when I disappeared?” You do not miss the way his expression hardens, eyes shifting away immediately as the question was given. “Ah…” Deuce’s mouth opens for a slight moment before he shuts it, in search of an answer that was long lost. In a quiet croak, Deuce murmurs an apology. “I don’t think I recall. I’m sorry.” He finally musters the will to glance at you, almost pained to give you an explanation. “It’s so foggy. I knew it happened during our first year, but…” The former delinquent sighed, shaking his head. 

“I’m sorry, Prefect. I can’t—!” 

Deuce falls silent, eyes wide with alarm now. “Prefect, look.”

You do not understand why until you follow his gaze, down to your hand. For a mere second, sparkles of light were quietly emitting from your fingertips; the white rose slowly being dyed a crimson red in your palm. 

“The roses…” He breathes out, watching as the rose stills itself completely red. You stare, mouth ajar as you turn to Deuce with frantic confusion.

“Great Sevens—”

“You guys finished?” Neither of you glance at Ace who had begun approaching you both now, having finished his portion of the work. The redhead stares at the way sweat beads down Deuce’s pale face, all color drained from shock. “Ace, the Prefect—” Grim does not allow Deuce’s quiet voice to come through, not when the scent of ink suddenly floods the air and makes you feel dread. “Look! Something’s opened up!” You hear the direbeast from afar. Ace refuses to waste another moment in Heartlsabyul as he jogs into the garden maze once more. 

“Let’s go! Hurry, hurry!” 

You share a quick look with Deuce, and he returns your weak stare with understanding. This can wait, but the possible students trapped here cannot. Both of you are hot on Ace’s trail, following the footsteps until you find a new opening in the maze. 

The sight of blot makes you ill, and judging by the sounds of Grim’s yelping, it seems that they have already encountered their beast. 

Deuce pushes his way past the blot and you follow behind, eyes landing on a large blob of ink fastened onto the ground in one large clump. Ace is hurling fire at it, taking a quick glance back at Deuce who arms himself.  “Tch, be careful!” Ace hissed, kicking at a puddle of ink that threatened to drag his foot down. “Blot!” Grim is breathing fire too, causing the blob to shrink inwards in response. Deuce is throwing spells at the abomination now, summoning vines to constrict the blob’s movements into a confined space. 

And in that moment, you see it; the outline of a limp arm dripping in ink. 

Your eyes flicker back at your companions that have been throwing all sorts of magic at the abomination, but it does not entirely wash away the blot. The blot remains, swallowing up whatever poor person was inside. You know better than to interfere, but wasn’t that something you were always good at? You’ve certainly done it before.

Such egocentric thoughts will have you killed, but you would sooner die sitting idly by and doing nothing now. 

Ace’s eyes are wide with a mixture of fright and alarm as he watches you whisk past the puddles of ink, towards the direction of that blotted creature. “Prefect, get back!” He screamed, gripping his pen tight as he threw a larger fireball at the blot. “Deuce, bring the Prefect back!” Deuce freezes at the demand, finally taking notice of your figure that is so dangerously close to the blot. If you were pulled in, you certainly wouldn’t come out anymore. “Prefect!”

Their cries fall onto deaf ears as you search for that arm. Rather than one now, you spot two limbs this time, sticking out of the inky cavern of the blob. Gritting your teeth, you suck a deep breath and heave. “Take my hand!” You cry out, plunging your arms into the inky abyss, much to the distressed cries of your companions. 

A startled cry emits from your lips as two hands reach out from the ink, clawing onto your sleeves. Something is pulling you, or rather, someone is pulling themselves out. Your feet threaten to give in, but it is when you feel a pair of muscular arms wrap around your middle when you feel secure. Deuce pants into your ear, glaring at the blotted creature, and he pulls. 

There is light, you notice. There is a certain glimmer of light emitting from within the blot as you see more and more of the outline trying to escape. Checkered red and white patterns are coming into view, and it is almost as if the ink is shying away from you now. With a final pull from Deuce, a heavy figure is sent tumbling your way, knocking you down onto the grass as a large flicker of fire overcomes the monster once and for all. Reduced into nothing, dark miasma fades into the air and soon, the blot was no longer. 

“Prefect, what the hell were you thinking!?” You hear the redhead cry out, followed by his frantic footsteps. Back flat against the grass, you could only peer at Ace’s reddened face as he takes your shoulders. He is looking at you, at every piece of you as if he were an overbearing mother. 

“I knew you used to be stupid sometimes, but now is not the time to be reckless! You could’ve gotten hurt, or worse, died! Don’t you have any sense of—!” 

“That was a close one. I thought I was a goner!”

A new voice this time fills in the space, and everyone falls silent. You have not even registered the sudden weight on your thighs, or the way that said weight disappeared in that moment. Light orange hair tied into a ponytail, accompanied by those little canines that glinted whenever he smiled.

“You—!” Deuce choked as the figure held up two fingers into a ‘peace’ sign. You beam, mustering a shaky smile as the name returns to your memory.

“It’s me, Cay-Cay!”

TAGLIST: @jjsmeowthie @deviious @hellfirestarter @thatpersonuouknow @knorreine @nerenda @goths4gambit @ghostlysyntaxed @minkyungseokie @daeda21 @red1sg0n3 @hatsumekannazuki @driftaway27 @alienlatteinspace @michtellch @loyalkatniss @notquitebunnie @eliza-be-t-h @avalordream @lovemiyae @our-raven-strife-universe @cecil-the-crybaby @your-dazzling-sun @twstsandturns @mrs-hoshina @biumg-ie @mellowberrie

[pia-nor481]

Hearing your voice

Lando Norris x reader smut

Words: 2.7k

Warnings: “Daddy”, “Good girl”, “Slut” Lando being dominant, the word “Cunt” I guess. Idk

Lando had been away for a few weeks now, and so she was getting lonely, desperate for attention. They had almost no time for calls or messages; this left them with nine minute voice notes left on delivered for hours. Lando was was either racing or training for racing, and so he was missing her too. Usually this would hinder a relationship, but not them. There was so much pure love that they could handle the wait. She would watch all of the races, eyes never leaving the orange car, often adored in Lando's clothes. The worst part was the inconvenience of time zones; he would be a few hours ahead so he would be asleep when she was free from work, or he would be a few hours behind, and so she would be asleep when he was free from racing or debriefs, and he wouldn't dare interrupt that. So much so, that when he was streaming he'd often pull his mic closer, and opt to speak at a lower level. 

Night quickly approached Monaco as she laid in Lando's bed, the smell of him was long gone. She stayed still for a while, unaware of what she was thinking about. She didn't feel the first call, thoughts occupied with him, then when the bed began to vibrate again, she scrambled to the phone. "Hey, Babe." She could hear the smile through the call, just the idea of speaking with him perked her up. "Can we facetime, I need to see your beautiful face." Her smile soon dropped after processing his words. "I'm sorry, my camera has been broken for a while, but I've not had the chance to get a new phone yet." This answered his unasked question of 'Why hasn't she sent any images through out the day?' Lando was just as disappointed as her, they couldn't touch and couldn't see, it was devastating. "That's okay, I know how much you love my voice." If you had asked her one month ago is she would have confessed to her boyfriend that his voice alone would get her wet, she would have called them delusional. But now, after Lando's infamous twitch streams, it was something he would tease her about at any chance he could get. "I know you're blushing." He laughed out, pressing his phone closer to his ear and turning the volume up, not wanting to miss a sound. "Don't start, it has been far to long of a day for that, as much as I'd usually love it."  She huffed out the last of the sentence, head falling atop the pillow, well, Lando's pillow. "Are you sure? I could go all night." She shook her head as he laughed a little too much. "Oh I know all about that." 

"So what are you supposed to be doing?" She asked, knowing it is likely he will be in trouble tomorrow. "I should be going over data, but my girlfriend is more important." He smiled, making sure his hotel door was closed. "So, what have you been up to today? You only left one message, no voice notes either." She almost groaned at the question, "Nothing really, work and cleaning, but I have been sat in bed for a while, again doing nothing." Lando was surprised at the statement, usually she would be so busy that there was no time to rest for hours. "Feeling needy?" He huffed out, feeling the exact same. "For you? Always." There's no other reason for her to be in bed at such an hour. 

"Are you feeling a little bit turned on baby? Yeah, Need help?" Her only response was a whine. "Well, I'm going to instruct you on what I want you to do, and you are not going to cum until I say, do you understand?" It took many people far too long to realise that Lando was in fact a dominant man, they only began to notice this after an interview where he explained that he loved being in control, what he left out, was his love for controlling her. "Say 'Yes Daddy'." She did as she was told, fearing that if she disobeyed that she would be punished. "Good girl... Good girl." They had been together for long enough that Lando knew that praise was very important for her pleasure. "So, there's going to be lots of teasing and touching...But you'll only cum when I tell you, and i promise you baby, I promise you, it will be so fucking worth it." She squirmed just at his voice, just at his explanation, just because of him. 

"But now, just start teasing your thighs for me, don't get anywhere near your cunt yet, Do you understand?" His laugh at the end of the sentence echoed through out the hotel room. "You are such a slut." A small frown appeared on her face upon hearing the new name. "Only for you." She was right, this gave Lando a sign to be careful with his words. She was tapping lightly at the top of her thighs before running them lower as he began to speak. "Just tease the inside of you thighs for me, stroke up and down, and creep towards your cunt, but don't touch, just tease yourself; Imagine it's my hand, drifting up those sexy thighs of yours, willing you legs to spread open for me, and I know you would spread so fucking quickly for me." She did as Lando told her, moaning into the speaker of the phone. "Yes Daddy." she was quick to exclaim, not wanting to disappoint, he chuckled at her obedience. "Good girl, just one slow caress over your thighs and you open up for me, so eager." 

"That's it, really rub, caress those thighs...keep teasing your thighs with one hand, take the other and start teasing your breasts for me, ugh those beautiful breasts. Just tease them, pinch your nipples, squeeze." He chuckled out the last word. She was quick to pay her phone on the pillow and put it on loud speaker. "I am going to get you so wet, before you even touch yourself properly... This is all just a warm up. Mhm lets get both hands on your nipples now, both hands; Just cupping, pinching, pulling.  That's it, you see if I was there right now, id be doing exactly what you're doing right now, with one hand, yeah that's right, but on the other nipple I use my mouth; id lick and suck, Mhm, that's right baby, and you'd fucking love it, you'd fucking love every second of attention that I give you. But just as you are really enjoying the suction, and the attention from my mouth, I would just switch to the other nipple, only occasionally stopping, just so I can appreciate your sweet reactions." He paused to take a deep steady breath, giving her a second to strip of all her remaining clothes. "Good girl, now i want you to keep teasing one breast, but your other hand must slowly, and I mean slowly, to drift down towards your stomach, and I want you to stop, stop, at that little area just above your cunt. Now don't you dare touch that clit. Not yet." He moaned at a low pitch, a noise of satisfaction. "There's just that little area above your cunt, and I want you to push down on it for me, just push down because, if my dick was inside you, that's exactly he area id push. And when I do, it really stimulates your g-spot." He laughed at the brash statement as soon as it left his lips. Lando never thought he would be good at dirty talk, yet now, it just felt so natural. 

"That's right, baby. And as you push down on that spot, just realise how empty your cu t is, So push down and clench for me; clench your cunt around nothing.. and feel the urge to have something inside of you grow. Fuck it's so much fun to tease you, so much fun."  She moaned rather loud, not just at his verbal teasing, but the physical. "Back to your thighs, or your breasts, i don't mind, maybe both, as long as you don't touch that cunt. You have no idea how much i would torture you, just to make you so desperate. How badly do you want to touch your cunt right now? Come on, tell me." She had to bring her focus back from touch before speaking, "So much." He chuckled at her simple response, knowing she couldn't think about too much at the moment. "Say 'Please', say 'Please Daddy'." She did so immediately, already struggling with the teasing. "Say 'Please can I touch my needy cunt.'" Lando was getting drunk on the feeling of being in control, he could make her do or say anything he pleased, and he enjoyed the feeling of power. "Say for me, 'I am a good slut, with a needy cunt.'" She couldn't resist the urge to please him as the words came quickly from her mouth, and he laughed teasingly as he heard it. "I think.... Just hearing yourself say that would drive you crazy. Am i right? of course i am." 

"Okay Baby... It's time for you to touch your clit. but i want you to slowly, slowly and gently graze your hand over your clit. As you feel the pleasure from that needy throbbing clit of yours i want you to say 'Thank you, Daddy.'" He paused, waiting for her to follow the instructions. She let out a sigh before speaking, "Thank you, Daddy." And a moan once finished. "Good girl, my good girl. You're welcome sweetheart, I do love teasing you, and you are doing such a good job for me." Lando quickly recognised that she needed a little more praise after calling her a slut twice. "So well behaved, so patient, so needed, so desperate, so cute, I fucking love playing with you." Lando moved his phone to the other ear before speaking again. "Keep rubbing your clit, but keep the pressure gentle, for now. That's it baby." She whined, she so desperately wanted t cum, but she had to wait, knowing the punishment would be harsh. "Now i think its time for you to have something inside your cunt. What do you think? Don't you think it would feel better if your cunt was filled... Okay baby, you can grab any toy you'd like, or you can just use your fingers... Actually no, you don't get the choice baby. Your fingers are nowhere near the size of mine, go grab a toy." She practically jumped up from the bed and reached for the bedside table, he didn't begin speaking until he knew she was settled on the bed again. "But don't put it inside yet... You are going to do exactly what i would do with my cock, which is just tease the entrance, up and down...feel your body begging, the desperation to be filled." He was taunting with a sweet laugh and it was torture. "Now I want you to slowly slid it in, just the tiniest bit, just the tip of the toy... and then back out again, then go back to teasing up and down."

"all the while pleasuring your clit, in fact, you can speed up a little now. Just a little faster for me. Now a little bit further into your cunt...Mhm... and back out." She could hear the stupid smirk on his face, the satisfaction he was feeling from being in complete control of her, so she whined. "You just want to be filled don't you, just a little bit further this time." She whined again, not out of annoyance, but out of pleasure. "Aw its okay baby, you can go all the way in, i want that toy all the way inside. Just clench, clench around it. Good girl, clench around it, just as you would if you were around my cock. That's right, as if you were trying to pleasure me, by squeezing and clenching; i want you to do that exact thing. Now with your other hand, i want you to try and push down on that spot, just above your cunt, see if you can really start to get that g-spot going." Lando was practically laughing down the phone at how needy she was, yet every now and then he was pushing down on or squeezing his cock tight, trying to relieve himself of the pressure building up. But he couldn't lose his composure. "More pressure on your clit now, faster, get into a good rhythm for me. You feel full? Yeah? Good girl." She let out a quiet sigh at the name. It was all starting to go to her head. "There seem to be so many different ways to pleasure a slut like you. But I know you love all of the. Don't you?" Lando paused to catch his breathe, "Fuck, I'm so hard for you, just thinking about you, thinking of how needed you are. More pressure on your clit for me, faster... then you can just keep squeezing that toy, or maybe you can fuck yourself instead." He stopped to think, making her wait for his decision, tripping on power slightly. "Actually yes, fuck yourself for me. Good girl, always a good girl for me. Go faster for me, faster on your clit, faster with that toy; both of them working together, to make you um, but don't cum yet, don't you dare cum yet. But i know that the combination will make you cum, you'll cum so hard, my perfect girl, following instructions so well. Fuck yourself, fuck yourself so hard for me. That's it, Good girl." Her hips began to lift off of the bed slightly, breath becoming more ragged with her chest rising and falling so quickly. 

"Just let it all girl, any noise you want to make, let it go, just feel good for me. Just get faster; get more needy for me. Until the orgasm feels inevitable, so much so that you cant stop it from happening." She gasped loudly, voice echoing off the walls, Getting the permission to do such a thing only heightened the pleasure more. "Are you ready? Are you ready to cum for me? say 'Please Daddy, please can i cum.'" Lando paused, keen for her response, which he got almost immediately. "Good girl, I'm gonna count you down from five, when i reach zero, only then you can cum. Do you understand me?" Initially she nodded, forgetting that Lando could not see her. She was so overwhelmed at the feeling, and thought of cumming that she couldn't think about anything else, being on edge for so long just made the pleasure all that more powerful. "Okay...Five." He had already paused, one number in, to call her  a good girl. "Four....so fucking sexy for me......three, so desperate, so needy, yet so obedient." Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, the words that left his mouth only make her want to cum more. "Two...So perfect at following instructions .So close the the edge, its gonna feel so fucking good." He waited even longer to say the last number. "One...Are you ready to cum for me? Yeah, you are aren't you. Zero, cum for me baby, that's it, good girl, cum for me, let it all go for me. Let that orgasm overwhelm you, baby. Good girl, that's it. You deserve all that pleasure. So good for me." Lando practically whispered out the last sentence know she would not be able to understand his words, the orgasm so powerful that she could hear, only seeing stars. "Fuck, I love playing with you. So perfect for me." 

"I love you, baby." Lando waited for her to come back down from the high before speaking, it was so important that she heard such things, especially as he couldn't hold her in his embrace. "I love you so much, Lando" He shot up straight upon hearing his name. "Hey now, after all that, only 'Lando' unbelievable." He feigned annoyance, and she only laughed out a response. "Thank you, Daddy."

Masterlist

[disneyprincemuke]

invisible string * ms47

unbeknownst to you, there was a force that was pulling you and mick together your entire lives

pairings: mick schumacher x fem!reader

word count: 5.4k

notes: hi guys i missed mick so here's a mick fic pls ignore the fuck ass ending, i didn't know how to end it ok

(f1 masterlist)

21 years ago

you sigh tiredly, cheeks pressed against your father’s shoulder as he weaves through the busy crowd moving in several directions. and you must have dozed off for a bit, letting the stuffed bunny you held in your hands fall off in your slumber.

because when your father had buckled you into your car seat, the fluffy white stuffy was missing from all the action.

“where’s bunbun?” you ask softly, rubbing your eyes as he buckles you up.

“honey,” your father says softly in confusion. he takes a step back and looks around his feet if you had dropped it. “you were holding bunbun while i carried you back.”

you whimper as the sleepiness wears off. have you really lost your best friend in a stuffed animal? “what?”

tears quickly well in your eyes, lips quivering as you feel a sob bubbling from your gut. “i lost bunbun?”

“aw, i’m sorry,” your father sighs, sitting on the floor of the car. he cups your cheeks and wipes away the tears now falling excessively. “but, honey…”

you’ve lost your favourite toys before, one time even leaving behind a doll at the airport cafeteria when your mother was in a rush to head to the boarding gate. you’ve even lost a toy phone once.

none of that is ever as serious as losing your stuffed bunny.

“we need to find her, daddy,” you cry, rubbing your eyes roughly. “i’ll miss her! she’s my best friend!” you kick your feet in frustration. “let’s go back!”

your father sighs, looking back at the crowd pouring out of the grandstand exit. he looks back at you. “maybe bunbun will have a new best friend to make memories with?”

“no! she’s my best friend for life!”

is there even a way to console a four-year-old when she loses her favourite stuffy at a formula one race? he doesn’t even know he knows where you’d dropped it.

“you know, you’ll make new best friends,” your father hums with a small and hopeful smile. he brushes the hair out of your face as you cry. “i’m sure you will reconnect with bunbun if you’re really meant to be best friends.”

you stifle a sniffle, folding your arms over your chest. your father didn’t make any sense to you. but you’re tired of explaining yourself over a stuffed bunny.

so you just nod and turn your head, grabbing the stray blanket on the backseat of the car. you’d spend the entire night — and the next two entire days — mourning the loss of your best friend, bunbun.

on the other side of the grandstand, there’s a small boy running around as his older sister chases him around with a giggle and her hands in the air.

“i’m coming for you, mick!” she giggles, slowing herself down when she finds herself eventually catching up to the little legs that were trying their best to keep him away.

he screeches as he tries to get away from her, their mother in the far back craning her neck to see where her children are running off to before resuming her conversation.

he comes to a slow stop when his eyes are able to make out the small bundle of white on the ground. his sister bumps into him lightly, not expecting him to suddenly stop.

“what’s this?” he asks, bending down carefully to pick up the soft toy. he turns around to his sister. “cat?”

“no, silly,” she laughs, dusting off the stuffy lightly. it doesn’t take a genius to figure out the animal, but her brother is still young. “it’s a bunny. look at its ears.” she takes it into her hands and holds it by its long ears to show her brother. “see? long ears.”

“cool.” he takes it back into his hands, wrapping his arms around it. he holds it against his chest and grabs his older sister’s hand. “mama will let me keep?”

“maybe! let’s go ask her!”

he tries to follow his older sister’s pace as they run back to where their mother stood.

“hey!” she greets them, immediately dropping into a squat and her arms wrapping around them. she notices the object in her son’s arms, knowing well that he had not left her running with that. “what do you have here?”

he points to where he had picked it up from. “gina and i found this over there,” he explains, nuzzling himself into his mother’s arms. “can i keep it?”

she presses her lips together, contemplating the safety and cleanliness of it altogether. “are you sure? papa and i can just get you a new one.”

he pouts his bottom lip out and bends slightly. “please, mama? it’s a bunny,” he whines, holding it in his hands to show her. “please, please?”

“okay, fine,” she laughs, rubbing his back gently. “give it to me first, okay? we’ll wash it when we get back.”

“yay!”

mick would wind up bringing that stuffed animal everywhere he went for the next couple of years, refusing to fall asleep without the softness of its fur by his side. he ended up naming it ‘stitches’, inspired by the off-white stitching it has right between its legs.

14 years ago

“hi!” you look up from your book, finding a girl towering over you with a smile. you’re about 10 now, sitting on a bench in the backyard of your school during recess. you’re newly transferred after moving into another town. and well, you didn’t really have any friends yet. “we’re playing tag and we need one more person — would you like to join us?”

your eyebrows shoot up in shock, looking around you to make sure that she’d been talking to you in the first place. you don’t want to be one of those people. “um, are you sure? i’m not really a runner.”

“that’s okay. neither are we,” she smiles. “i’m shannen. you’re the new kid, right?”

you nod shyly and say your name. you slot your bookmark between the pages before closing the book. “yeah, i came from a few towns over. this school’s closer to our new house, so i transferred.”

“oh, cool!” she beckons you over to join the rest of the kids gathered at the school playground. “come on and join us! i’ll introduce you to my friends.”

“alright.” you follow her hesitantly, hanging your head low as she introduces you to her friends. you were never great at approaching people by yourself, which is why you’re typically by yourself. you’re typically adopted by the extroverts and you didn’t mind that one bit.

you would spend the next two or three years, up until graduation, attached to the hip with shannen. she spends time in your house, and you go over to hers to swim in her pool with her friends outside of school. you’re best friends, even, up until you were in secondary school.

but for some reason, life had gotten too busy to keep the friendship. eventually, you drifted apart, as you had with several other friends. at some point, you’re just social media mutuals who don’t talk anymore. but the times you spent together still make you smile.

10 years ago

mick snorts, throwing his head back. “mate, let’s go! we’re the last ones there!”

“i can’t find my phone! hold on!” the girl shrieks, digging through her bag for her phone. there’s a fire alarm drill, and they had to stay back because she couldn’t find her phone. “go ahead!”

“your phone really shouldn’t be your priority in a fire!”

“it’s not even real!”

“what if it was?”

“i don’t care! i’m not standing in the sun for an hour without anything to do,” she grumbles under her breath. she throws a notebook out of her bag and digs some more. “i found it!”

she holds her phone triumphantly in her hand and waves it at mick. “see? i found it. it didn’t even take me long.”

“shannen, mate,” mick laughs, shaking his head. he yanks her into the hallway, blending in with the mass majority of the student body on their way to the stairwell. the fire alarm bounces around, prompting both mick and shannen to cover their ears.

“if this was a real fire, we would both have burned to death, you know,” mick points out as he rolls his eyes jokingly. he bumps into shannen lightly with his shoulder. “good thing this is just a drill.”

“you are so dramatic.”

mick and shannen spend the rest of their secondary school years together. while they’re not necessarily friends outside of school, they keep a casual friendship — often hitting each other up on social media every couple of months years after their graduation.

they swear to each other that if they were to ever get married, an invitation would definitely be sent.

7 years ago

you hum with a small smile, picking up the grey kitten into your hands. you coo as it purrs against your chest. “oh, i love her. thank you so much,” you grin, nuzzling your cheek on the kitten’s head. “i’m sorry it took me forever to get back to you. i’ve just finished settling into my new apartment.”

“oh, it’s absolutely no problem,” the woman smiles, watching you bend down and put the kitten into the carriage you’d gotten just for the kitten. “just remember to give her plenty of fluids. you don’t want her getting a uti.”

“of course,” you smile, picking up the carrier from the bag. “thank you again for waiting for me. i’ve been looking for a kitten forever, and when i saw your listing on instagram, i immediately fell in love.”

the woman shrugs, walking with you to the door of her home. “well, you seemed very determined to adopt a cat. i had to reserve one for you.”

you drive home with the grey cat in your passenger seat. you name it ‘concrete’ because it’s grey, giggling as she hesitantly comes out of the carrier to venture into her forever home. concrete falls asleep on your chest that night after dinner.

you wake up the next morning with a text message from the woman you’d gotten concrete from, telling you that she’s accidentally given you the wrong cat. she had only realised because the guy looking to adopt the last cat of the litter arrived and noticed that the cat he’s bringing back didn’t have the white patch of fur in the shape of a heart above its tail.

you sigh and ask her if you can just keep concrete since you’d already bonded in the day that you had her. much to your surprise, she agrees and says she’ll find a way to convince the other adopter otherwise. then you hang up and get up, preparing concrete’s breakfast.

meanwhile, mick sighs, holding the phone up to his ear. “well, they already gave the kitten to someone else, gina,” he explains softly, looking over his shoulder at the woman also on the phone. “the kitten really looks identical to the one you wanted. it’s not really anybody’s fault.”

“what?” gina says softly, as if she’s in the room with mick. “but that’s what really drew me to the kitten — the heart in its fur. is there really no other way?”

“the cat was taken home like yesterday… do you really wanna ask for a kitten back from somebody like that?” mick raises an eyebrow. he looks down at the kitten that’s walked up to his feet, dropping on its belly above his toes. “this one’s just as cute as the one you showed me.”

truthfully, he’s never really been a cat person. he very much preferred dogs over them, but the light grey kitten that’s plopped over his toes is convincing him otherwise. the kitten’s green eyes look up at him with a soft mew, making his heart skip a beat.

“ah, forget it, mick,” gina sighs over the phone. “you’re right. but i don’t think i want the cat anymore.”

she quickly hangs up. he puts the phone into his back pocket as he squats down to pet the kitten on its head.

“you’re very cute, aren’t you?” mick coos, smiling widely when the kitten purrs against his finger. “you know, i’m not a cat person.”

the kitten simply blinks at him, before closing its eyes as he scratches its chin.

“um.” he turns around, smiling at the older woman now walking towards him. she has worry written all over her face, and it only tells him that his sister will never get the cat that she had spent weeks swooning about. “i really tried convincing the other person…”

“it’s no problem,” mick grins. he stands up with a soft huff. “i’ll adopt it nonetheless.”

that’s how mick schumacher ended up with a cat instead of a dog.

5 years ago

“where do you reckon we should go for dinner?” mick asks, tapping on his phone. he looks over to his side, his smile dropping when he sees arthur holding up his phone with the front camera open. “arthur, hello?”

“quiet for one second,” arthur mutters, moving the phone around and sporting different smiles to try and get a good picture. “charles is asking where i’ve gone without him.”

mick raises an eyebrow. “charles or your secret girlfriend?”

“my brother, of course!” arthur scoffs, snapping a quick picture. he slows down his pace slightly and sends the picture. he looks up and turns to mick. “what were you saying about dinner?”

“where to eat, mate.” mick shoves his hands into his pockets and presses his lips together. “remember? robert asked us to choose where to eat tonight.”

arthur looks around, lips pursed together with a small smile. “i mean… we are in silverstone... what’s there to eat here?”

“i don’t know! that’s why i am asking you for help with the thinking.”

arthur momentarily turns away from mick as a pair of girls walk past him. his face lights up as he turns back to his friend.

mick, noticing that the distraction was caused by girls, smacks arthur on the shoulder. “focus! on dinner! not girls!”

“no, mate! you’ve got me wrong!” arthur laughs. “i know where to eat!”

but what mick hadn’t noticed, is that you had been the pair to walk past them, your arms linked with your best friend’s.

“oh, i heard there’s this really good restaurant up ahead. it’s got 4 stars on google — bar and grill or something?” you had said to your best friend as you looked down at your phone for options to dine in. “are you up for that?”

“sounds like a great idea!”

that night, mick would spend dinner in silverstone bar and grill in the far back of the restaurant with arthur and robert. all the while, you’re by the booth by the front doors of the restaurant with your best friend.

you would catch arthur’s eye as they flood into the restaurant, but by the time mick looked in your direction, you’d returned your attention to the menu for something to eat.

4 years ago

“ah, you look so pretty!” you shriek, holding yourself up on the sink in the toilet of the club. you put a hand on the shoulder of the new friend you had made. “you’ve got to tell me what lip product you’re using!”

“oh,” the woman laughs. ”it’s the too faced melted matte lipstick.” she reaches into her purse. “do you want to try it? i’m sure it looks good on you!”

you shake your head with a giggle. “no, don’t be silly! we can’t just share lip products like that anymore.”

you squeeze her shoulder endearingly before you step back at an attempt to pull yourself together. getting shit faced drunk was never part of the plan, yet here you are, four cocktails and three shots in, befriending the unassuming girl in the toilet.

she just wanted to wash her hands. it’s just unlucky, in your opinion, that she ended up next to you while you’re in a chatty mood.

“what are you in the club for?” you ask, reaching into your own pocket for your lip gloss. “celebrating something?”

“yeah, actually,” she laughs. “my brother won a championship earlier tonight. it’s a big thing — formula 2, if you’re asking.”

you stare blankly at her through the mirror, halting your application of your lip gloss. you don’t follow racing as much as you did when you were younger. in fact, you kinda despise it after you’d lost that damned stuffed bunny at one of the races you attended with your father.

or maybe it’s the alcohol, because you had no idea that something like formula 2 existed.

“oh, that’s cool…”

she laughs, patting you on the back. “it’s okay if you don’t know what that is.”

you hurriedly apply your lipgloss, recapping it then turning to her. “i’m sure it’s cool! i mean, congrats to your brother! you must be very proud of him!”

“i am, thank you,” she laughs. she taps you, her eyes shining bright. “can i follow you on instagram?”

you shriek again, stumbling back as you fish for your phone. “that’s genius!”

you give her your phone and watch her type her name into it. though you’re sure you wouldn’t remember her name — or the fact that you even followed her in the first place — in the morning.

she puts the phone back into your hand, squeezing it gently. “i’ve got to run, my brother’s waiting for me outside. it’s nice meeting you! and, my name’s gina.”

you wave at her giddily, watching her exit the toilet. you look down at your phone and hum, furrowing your eyebrows at the account that’s on the screen.

it doesn’t have a profile picture, or many followers. but you’re intoxicated. so you shrug and shove your phone back into your purse, returning to giggling giddily as your best friend stumbles out of the cubicle she’d been stuck in, puking her dinner out.

gina steps out of the bathroom, met by a stoic expression from her brother. “what took you so long?” mick grunts, guiding her through the crowd back to the table that his friends had gotten. “i waited almost 10 minutes for you.”

“i met the cutest girl inside,” gina laughs. she grunts and rolls her eyes when mick shoots her an unimpressed stare. “you wouldn’t get it.”

you have no recollection of meeting gina schumacher, and she never really posted anything on that empty account she gave you. she deactivates that account eventually, erasing the only evidence of the friend you made in the bathroom on a night out in abu dhabi for one of your friend’s bachelorette party.

2 years ago

mick follows the girl into the apartment, shaking his jacket off his shoulders. “cool apartment.”

“thank you,” cindy grins. “just give me a second, okay?”

mick nods politely, watching as cindy disappears into the apartment. he scans the apartment, overwhelmed by the vast differences between his and the one he stands in.

is this how drastic apartments are between guys and girls?

there’s several decorations, magazines on the coffee table, vases of flowers and pots of plants on shelves and–

interesting. a ferrari cap sits on the third level of the glass cabinet by the tv.

he walks over to it with a small smile. he hears footsteps behind him, prompting him to turn and glance at her momentarily. “i didn’t know you were a ferrari fan.”

cindy presses her lips together. “i’m… i don’t follow racing,” she says softly, pointing at the cap. “that’s my roommate’s.”

“oh, i’m sorry,” mick hisses to himself, taking a step away from the glass cabinet. “i didn’t… i’m sorry.”

“it’s fine,” she laughs, shaking her head. “um, so, here’s an umbrella you need to get home. be safe.”

“thank you,” mick smiles, receiving the umbrella with a grin. “i will… text you so i can return this to you.”

“good — it’s good investment to make sure you talk to me again.”

mick looks down at the umbrella tilting his head. “aw, it’s got cats on it. i love cats.”

cindy presses her lips together. “it actually belongs to my roommate. she’s got a cat,” she explains with a small smile. “i prefer dogs.”

“oh,” mick trails off. he’s not saying he’s so shallow to judge someone just because they don’t really like cats, but it’s really starting to sound like that in his head. “that’s okay.”

cindy takes a deep breath. “just… that’s my roommate’s,” she laughs, pointing at the umbrella. “i’ll need that back soon.”

“i’ll return it to you, i promise,” mick smiles. he raises his eyebrows as she leads him to the door. “on our second date? friday night?”

downstairs, you’re pulling up into the the street where your apartment complex is. you hum to yourself as you drive down the street, squinting your eyes as you try and see through the droplets falling on your windshield.

while you’re waiting for somebody to open the gates of the parkling lot of the building, you glance outside the window. there’s mick, leaving your apartment complex with a familiar looking umbrella.

you would walk into your apartment and sigh, asking your roommate if she had taken your umbrella with the cat prints again.

she would apologise for lending it to the man she’d gone on a date with, but swears she will get back for you. and she does — thank you, mick — and she briefly moves out about 4 months later to start her new life elsewhere with her boyfriend.

her boyfriend that doesn’t end up being mick, simply because she can tell that they’ve not got much in common. she breaks up with mick about a month later.

3 months ago

you squeak, hands on your cheeks as you look down the hallway. “concrete,” you say out loud, trying to make out the shape of your cat through the tears flooding into your eyes.

you had left your door open too long, according to a cat owner, as you struggled to bring your bags of groceries in. in the short three minutes that you struggled, your cat must have slipped out.

the worst is that you’d only realised about 10 minutes after you shut the door behind you that the house is suspiciously peaceful.

“you wouldn’t survive as a stray — you need to come back,” you frown, starting to walk down the hallway. “i don’t wanna get another cat.”

you have her bag of kibble in your hand, shaking it occasionally. as if your cat would reappear out of an non-existent nook out in the hallway.

you had never thought to get concrete chipped, of course. the cat had only started getting curious about the bigger world on the other side of the door recently when someone else with a cat moved in two weeks ago.

there’s a ding that echoes in the hallway, completely unbeknownst to you as you’re hunched over and still trying to lure your cat out with treats. the doors slide open, mick appearing with a grey cat in his arms.

“i don’t suppose this is your cat, right?”

you shoot up and whirl around, coming eye-to-eye with your green eyed cat. “you fuck ass feline! where have you been?” you scold, scowling as she comes into your sight.

you feel yourself soften up at the reunion with your car, relief washing over you. “why did you run away like that?”

you drop the bag of kibble to your side and step forward to take concrete into your arms. “thank you so much! where did you find her?”

“i saw her outside the apartment complex, meowing at people,” mick laughs, stepping back to watch concrete nuzzle her face into your chest and purr. “i was gonna house her for a bit until i find the owner — i didn’t know she lived right on the floor my friend lives at.”

“oh, thank you thank you,” you sigh, bending down to pick up the bag. “i really don’t know what i would have done if i lost her. i’m not a bad cat mum, i swear, she slipped out as i was bringing groceries in!”

“i don’t doubt that,” mick laughs. “i have a cat of my own at home. sneaky little devil, that one.”

you glance down at concrete and sigh in relief. a weight feels like it’d been lifted right off your chest. “is there any way i repay you? money?”

mick raises an eyebrow. “coffee?”

you stop dead in your tracks, a small smile playing on your lips. “are you hitting on me?”

“yeah? is that okay?”

you smile, nodding. “yeah, that’s okay.”

mick pretends he doesn’t notice the blush creeping up your cheeks as you continue to walk slowly. “how does wednesday night sound?”

you and mick would wind up getting coffee immediately after he’s done meeting his friend. your neighbour, dino, whom you actually are on greeting terms with when you come across one another out in the hallway.

you would spend the rest of the evening in that small coffee shop right at the corner of your street, talking about everything. this eventually leads to a second date, then a third, and then a fourth.

suddenly he’s telling you his full name, sending you into a shock as his name registers against the list of famous people in your head.

“ah, don’t mind the mess,” mick mutters, holding the door open for you as you slip off your shoes. “i wasn’t expecting to have anyone over so soon.”

you laugh under your breath as you put your shoes on the rack. “it’s not your fault there’s a storm bad enough to strand me,” you hum as you start taking off your jacket. “i’m sorry to be a bother when you weren’t expecting company.”

“no, no!” mick shakes his head quickly. he shuts the door behind you with a hand behind your back to guide you inside his apartment. “i mean, i was gonna invite you over soon anyway. we’ve just been so busy.”

“well thank you for offering me to stay the night anyway.”

he takes your jacket from your hands, disappearing momentarily into a room and comes back out emptyhanded. he jogs around his living room, picking up stray pieces of clothing and trash from the ground. “i’m really really sorry. i swear i’m not this messy. my schedule has been a little tight since i got back.”

you shrug and hunch over, picking trash from the ground with him. “i understand. if you look at the state of my apartment, i’d be the one apologising.”

mick does a double take when he glances up at you, noticing you helping him clean his living room. he shrieks softly, jumping over to you. he wraps his arms around you and drags you over to his couch. “what are you doing?” he screams, sitting you down on the couch and then taking the trash from your hands.

you look up with your head tilted. “i’m helping you clean!”

“don’t do that! make yourself comfortable,” he cries before walking away from you again. “don’t get up from that couch unless it’s to do something a normal person would do in someone’s home!”

“don’t be ridiculous. cleaning is fun to an extent,” you giggle, watching him walk back towards you with a small smile. “don’t worry about it.”

he huffs, looking around the objectively cleaner area. “do you want something to drink?”

“sure! just some water,” you smile politely. you look around the small apartment. it’s fairly clean, actually, even before mick had started picking stuff up from the ground.

you get to your feet and start navigating through the living room, admiring the picture frames right by the entryway with a small smile. mick has always been cute, it seems.

one picture catches your attention in particular, making you tilt your head in confusion. you lean forward slightly and squint your eyes.

“hey, mick?” you call out, eyes still scanning the picture of a toddler mick with his family in the paddocks. “you had a stuffed bunny as a kid?”

mick walks over to you, handing you the glass of water you requested. he puts a hand on your back and looks at the same picture. “yeah! he’s my favourite,” he says. “i have him in my bedroom, let me show you.”

you turn around with a grin, waddling after him. “i used to have one too! exactly like the one in the picture, actually. i lost it when i was like 4, but i loved that stuffed bunny like my best friend.”

“really?” mick asks from inside the bedroom.

you stop right by the door and lean against the door frame. “yeah, she had this stitching right between the legs. my cat tore it apart when i was 3. so there’s this really poorly done job of stitching it up where it tore.”

“that’s weird,” mick presses his lips together, appearing with a bunny in his hands. he flops it around in his hands, its ears flopping around as he shows it to you. he pulls the legs apart, showing the off-white stitching. “mine’s got that too.”

“oh, my god!” you shriek, taking it into your hands. you trace over the stitching, counting exactly 10 — the number you had known to be how many times your mother sewed it up for your impatient toddler self. you lift your head to look at him again. “this is weird. did you get this from somewhere?”

he laughs airily, towering over you. he puts a hand over yours and presses his lips together. “yeah, gina told me that i picked it up at one of my dad’s races in the paddocks when we were playing.”

you perk up. “i lost my bunbun at this one race my dad and i attended when i was 4.”

“oh, what a coincidence?” mick smiles with a soft laugh. “do you reckon this is the one you dropped?”

you puff your cheeks, tears welling in your eyes as you fight back a smile. “absolutely. the cracked eye… the ten stitches… this is bunbun!”

the world has a mysterious way of bringing you together with people you’re meant to be with.

you would spend the rest of the night, after taking a shower and cozying up in one of mick’s shirts, talking about your past. you joked that there’s clearly someone in the universe that thought you’re meant to be together.

to you, it’s the only way that bunbun would have ended up with mick in the first place. cause here you are, lying back on his couch with the first best friend you’d made in your life, all thanks to mick.

you spend the rest of the night, until sunrise, giggling over the invisible string that seemed to tie you together your whole lives.

“wait. i thought you said you had a cat?”

“oh, she’s at my sister’s,” mick explains. “i’ve been pretty busy — i haven’t had the time to pick her up yet.”

“you should pick her up soon! let’s set our cats together for a potential play date!”

@cashtons-wife @darleneslane

honourable mention: @localwhoore

[lowkeyerror]

The Family Business Ch.4

WandaNat x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Chapter Notes: Brief mention of the red room nothing crazy

Summary: Natasha is nervous about finally having some personal time with Wanda’s family. You help her fight through those nerves. Meanwhile Wanda struggles to come to terms with how much of your growth she missed.

An: Posting consistently again got me feeling in my prime. No promises, but might post chapter 5 later this week instead of next monday.

Series Masterlist| Masterlist

Once you were done with work, and had your flowers for Flora, you were ready to go to the Maximoff’s house. You’d sent a quick text to Dragos telling him that you’d bring Natasha with you, to save them an extra unnecessary trip.

You pack your things quickly and head to the car, Natasha follows behind you. When you get in the car, you finally notice the subtle nervousness of Natasha.

“Are you scared to meet Wanda’s mom?”

Natasha nods a little, “It’s more than that. You guys are the most important people in her life. She told me so herself. Dragos doesn’t like me yet, Pietro and I really just looked at each other, and I heard Flora’s got high standards when it comes to partners.”

“Well, they are the kindest people you could ever meet. All they'll care about is that you keep Wanda happy,” you insist.

“I think the kindness goes out of the window, when you find out your daughter got married to a Russian spy that tried to kill her,” Natasha mumbles.

 You try to offer her some comfort, “I’m not going to argue with that but, you’ll get a little break, when I tell them I like you.”

“Really?”

“If Wanda told you all about me, then you should know they've got a soft spot for me,” you’re a little embarrassed when you say it, but it’s the truth.

If Natasha notices your embarrassment, she doesn't bring it up, “Wanda says you’re basically a Maximoff every time she tells a story about you.”

You smile, “I like to think of them as my family too. There’s been plenty of times where I want to call Dragos, papa. That means there’s even more times when I want call Flora Mama.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“I don’t want to take the chance and ruin our dynamic.”

The Russian sighs as the house comes into view. “I think they’d both love it. The way Wanda tells it, they feel as though you're one of their kids.”

You park the car before answering Natasha, “Maybe one day.”

With the hydrangeas in hand, you head to the front door. Natasha tries to walk behind you, but you pull her forward so she’s next to you.

“This is a family you have to face head on. Those uncertainties you have, keep them close to you. Don’t let them see your nerves because they’ll pounce. Just remember that you love Wanda, and she loves you too,” your attempt at a pep talk seems to calm her nerves a bit.

“You said they were nice people. Nice people don’t have warnings.”

You roll your eyes, “Natasha you secretly married the daughter of a crime lord without ever meeting the family, there’s a shitload of warnings.”

The door swings open before you have the chance to knock. You find yourself being pulled into a warm hug. It’s only a moment before Flora’s hands land on your face. She turns your head a couple times checking that you are fine, before planting a kiss on your cheek.

“Y/n, where have you been sweetheart? Too old to come see me anymore, huh? You’ve got bags under your eyes Malysh, have you been sleeping ok?”

You smile warmly at her antics, “I’ll never be too old to come visit my Flora. As a sorry, for being away I brought you these.”

Flora takes the flowers from you. “Always knowing how to get into my good graces, these are beautiful Y/n.” Her eyes dart to Natasha and you watch as her features go neutral.

 “You must be Natasha.”

The red head extends her hand, “It’s a pleasure to meet you Mrs.Maximoff.”

Flora shakes her hand, “Yes, if only we could've done this sooner. “

Natasha doesn’t shift at the words, but you can feel her nerves from besides you. Flora beckons you both into the house and you follow her into the kitchen. She grabs a vase for the flowers and begins to fill it with water.

“So, why Natasha?” She says as she places the flowers in the vase.

“I’m sorry?” Natasha is confused by the question.

Flora keeps her eyes on the flowers, “Why’d you pick the name Natasha? Natalia is a fairly pretty name, why not keep it?”

You weren't surprised that Flora had done some research on the woman. However, Natasha was taken aback by the question. She wasn’t expecting it, so it took her a moment to respond.

“As a spy, I have many aliases. However, Natasha never felt like an alias, she just felt like me. My parents and sister call me Natalia often just to tease me, but even they seem to like Natasha better.”

You decide to help the Russian out, “Are you close with your family, Natasha?”

She nods, “Very close. My parents took Yelena and I when we were very little. They saved us from some terrible people, I owe then everything. Though they'd never let me repay them.”

“Reminds me of us,” you say to Flora, who has now softened her gaze on the redhead.

Flora had a soft spot for children in tough places. You knew that's why she originally gravitated towards you, when Pietro first brought you around. This was the perfect topic to get Natasha on Flora’s good side.

“If we found you any younger you would've had our last name,” Flora places the vase the table. She eyes Natasha for a moment before asking about her childhood, “Foster care?”

Natasha stiffens a little, “Worse. Young girls all taken and trained to be weapons for whatever they needed.”

Flora’s eyes become glossy, “The red room.”

Natasha’s gaze was locked on the floor, “Yeah.”

It is a quick turn of events when Flora wraps her arms around Natasha. She holds the woman firm as she begins to speak in Russian. You don't understand all of it, but it seems that Flora was intimately familiar with the place.

“You two go and make yourselves comfortable while I start dinner,” she says finally releasing Natasha.

“You don’t want help?”

Flora shakes her head, “Go, relax malysh. I’ve got it covered in here.”

Instead of leading Natasha to the living room, you take her to the backyard. There is a beautiful large grass area, with a nice garden space in the corner. The patio has the perfect view of the sunset. You sit on one of the patio chairs and Natasha sits beside you.

“I think that went well,” you say to her.

“Thanks to you, it went really well,” Natasha looks at you gratefully.

You shake your head, “I didn’t do much.”

Natasha argues back, “I see why they call you the glue. If you hadn’t made your comment, she would’ve slighted me all night.”

“Don’t give me too much credit, you would've had her the moment you asked how many people she killed,” you joke, and Natasha gets a bit embarrassed.

“Sorry, I guess I just- “

You stop her, “It’s fine, Nat. I’ve been underestimated all my life. My first kill is symbolic to me, even in that pitiful state, I was able to snap someone’s neck. I remember all of them, though it’s not a lot, I also remember each one getting easier.”

She looks at you, “The longer it gets, the less you remember, and then one day you’re left with the memory of how you used to feel about it. Maybe it fills you with pride in the beginning, but eventually killing just leaves you feeling empty.”

Wanda comes into the backyard before you could answer the Russian.

“She’s not giving you too much trouble is she, Y/n?”

Natasha sends her wife a pointed look. You laugh at the interaction.

“She’s a pleasure to have around. I can see why you married her, regardless of the assassination attempt.”

Wanda tilts her head but keeps a smile on her face, “Telling our love story without me, my love?”

“It just came up. How was the meeting?”

Wanda plops down next to you before leaning back, “Apparently Kingpin is looking to expand his control. At least that’s what Hammerhead said.”

You clench your jaw at the mention of the large man, “He’s such a greedy bastard. He has the second largest market besides us. Which means he thinks he can take over us. I couldn’t imagine being a guy that big with no fucking brains.”

Wanda shakes her head and chuckles slightly, “You sound just like Papa. He was pissed when he heard.”

“How is he now?” You ask knowing he could get a little reckless when he was angry.

“For now, he’s alright. I told him we could use Kingpin’s greed as an example. We can crush him and in turn teach the others not to try to cross us.”

Your hands reach to rub your temples, “You make it sound so easy.”

“It will be,” you can hear the determination in her voice.

Natasha interjects, “I think Y/n has a point. It’s definitely easier said than done.”

You keep your composure, “Kingpin selling is a problem in itself, but the people should know better than to buy from him. Whoever is making purchases with him is not being loyal to us. That means he’s making allies, or rather he is taking our allies away from us. It strengthens his numbers while diminishing ours. He’s trying to start a revolution.”

Before it could be discussed any further Dragos appears, “We can discuss it more tomorrow. Tonight, we celebrate Wanda’s homecoming… and marriage. Dinner is ready.”

You’re the first out of your chair and into the house. It leaves Dragos some time with the couple.

“Remember we only talk business outside of the office, if it is absolutely necessary,” he reminds his daughter.

“She still gets that way?” Wanda asks referring to you.

He shakes his head, “She’s just started brainstorming and it’s hard for her to put it aside. She’s not that timid little girl anymore.”

Wanda lets out an irritated sigh, “Why does everyone keep saying that? I know her just like everyone else, papa. I’ve cared for her, I’ve trained her, and- “

“You missed 5 years of her life; you missed her graduation, you missed her putting all of her training to practical use, you missed her joining the family business. No one is saying that you didn't know her well, but you can’t act like you witnessed her growth.”

“It’s not my fault that I wasn’t there,” she speaks through gritted teeth.

“No one is saying it was, malysh.”

Natasha grabs her wife’s hand, “We’re celebrating you tonight like your father said. Let’s just enjoy this and eat. You never stopped talking about your mother’s cooking and the longer we spend out here, the colder the food gets in there.”

Wanda gets up from her seat, “You’re right. I’m sorry Papa, I’m just not used to being home yet.”

“It’s alright, her growth is startling. I still remember how I felt when Pietro told me she killed a boy. It was a shock; I didn’t want to believe it. She was so delicate that I couldn't picture her doing it.”

“Y/n killed somebody?”

Natasha nods, “She told me about it. Y/n actually has a little ledger, 8 people.”

Wanda’s eyes widen, “She told you about it?”

The conversation stops there, when you come back, “Flora said if you guys don’t come to dinner now that Piet and I can have your plates.”

“You’d eat Wanda’s welcome home meal, that’s pretty criminal even by our standards,” Natasha says pulling her wife along into the house.

“Oh 100%, you would too if you had Flora’s cooking.”

The playful banter continues, even once everyone is sat at the dinner table. Conversation flows freely, but Wanda doesn't contribute much. All that circles her mind is you.

Her father’s words echo in her head. She had missed some of the most important moments of your life. Wanda was scared to admit that she hardly recognized the woman you’ve grown into.

It bothered her. She was jealous that everyone got to see you blossom, but her. Even Wanda’s wife seemed to know things about you that she didn’t. It was a pill that she didn’t want to swallow.

Her little Krolik wasn’t so little anymore.

Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername @likemick

[moontyun]

Enhypen: The type of...

☆ enhypen masterlist ☆ ...partner ☆ requested: no ☆ warning(s): stage names are used, silent treatment is given ☆ genre: fluff, slight angst ☆ requests are open!

៚ Heeseung

to get jealous very easily

to leave you sticky notes in the bathroom for you to read when you wake up

It had started years ago, when the two of you had just started dating. The very first night he had slept over, he had to leave early the next morning. So before he left, he wrote you a little note. Telling you how much he cared for you and how much he appreciated you. When you had gotten up that morning, you saw the note. You absolutely loved it. When he had gotten home that night, you tackled him, peppering him in kissed all over his face. "What's all this about? Not that I don't love it." You explained it all to him. His whole face lit up, hearing you gush about how much you loved it was enough to get him to do it everyday, just to see you smile.

៚ Jay

to spoil you constantly!

to appreciate when you do little things for him.

You had been wanting those rings since the first day you laid your eyes on them. They were beautiful but you could not get yourself to justify the price. There was no way in hell you were going to be buying them. But every time you walked past that store, you saw them in the window, hoping one day you would save enough to get them. Jay had known you'd been dreaming about the day you'd have them. So one day, after you had come home from work, he had surprised you with them. "You deserved them. You'd been wanting them forever so, I got them for you."

៚ Jake

to get pouty when he doesn't get his way

that knows how to push your buttons

You had a busy day today. Your social battery was running pretty close to empty. So to say you were feeling a little over stimulated was an understatement. As soon as Jake had heard the front door open, he was right there, excited to see you home. "Did you miss me today?" he asked right away, you told him yes. After answering one question, they just kept coming. Things like "want to watch a movie?", "who's turn is it to cook tonight?", "do you want to go to target right now with me?" You just needed a minute to yourself. Just to recharge a little bit. When you told him this, he was a little hurt and you could see it on his face. You felt so incredibly guilty about it. You apologized and explained in a nicer way of how you needed space for a bit to charge up. He nodded his head understanding you completely, "After your done...can we watch a movie together?" You smiled, ruffling his hair, "Of course we can."

៚ Sunghoon

to need to have breakfast, lunch or dinner with you everyday. even if it's on facetime and he's on the other side of the world.

to get upset if you don't take his call

He had been gone for a little less than a week. He was away for something for work. You had been left at home due to not being able to take those days off from work. And boy, oh, boy, how he missed you so. He would call you every day during his lunch time and your dinner time. This was the way you both bonded. "How was your day? Tell me what happened." You asked, taking a bite of the plate of food in front of you. "Well, Jay..." He started yapping about every little detail of his day. You really loved this time.

៚ Sunoo

to get pouty when he isn't getting the attention he wants

he's your passenger princess

You had been super busy with work. You didn't have much time with anything else. Things were getting a bit hectic lately. Sunwoo began to feel a little neglected about you not giving him attention lately. So, he sat down in your office with you and began to whine about how he was feeling as he played with your hair. You turned around, taking his face in your hands, "I'm sorry." You apologized, "Tell you what, I'll stop for today and we can go have a picnic out in the field today." You shut down your computer to prove you were serious and he immediately lit up and was super excited.

៚ Jungwon

to spoil you rotten, too

cuddling every night before bed is an absolute must for him.

The air conditioning had broken in your shared house. It had been out for a few days. The heat was getting to be out of control. You didn't want to even sleep under the blankets tonight it was so hot. Jungwon on the other hand didn't seem to mind all that much because he was right there clinging to you like a koala. It was much too hot for that and you told him so. He didn't take it too well and became really pouty. You decided to compromise and hold his hand for the night instead, he seemed to be happy with that because next thing you knew he was out like a light.

៚ Ni-Ki

loves to give you a hard time about literally anything you do

but at the same time gets upset when you don't say you love him back

He hadn't spoken to you since yesterday night before bed. He was definitely upset with you about something. You could not figure it out though. Initially, you thought you'd forgotten about a date you had set but you hadn't. Maybe you forgot your anniversary? No, that wasn't for a few more months...And then it clicked. You forgot to tell him you loved him before bed. You smiled, cuddling into him and telling him how much you loved him. "Oh so you figured it out?" you nodded, giving him puppy dog eyes, fully knowing he'd be buttered up by it and take the apology. "Don't forget again."