#and also!! I have no idea if you know this or how you did but Boss also does dabble in a little bit of science… monsters are more advanc

[gf2bellamy]

hiya! i had a cute request if you’re interested in writing it. spencer reid x reader where they finished a case and go back to a hotel to sleep and reader goes to spencer’s room (friends with feelings?) asking if she can sleep with him cause they case damaged her mental state. and it’s just cute and cuddly how they figure out how to sleep and such. maybe they can even sleep through the alarm or maybe emily finds reader missing and goes to spencer to ask if he’s seen her only to see the two of them together.

entangled — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: mention of reader having a rough time with a case ( no explicit mention of the details of the case though ) a/n: hiii !! such a cute idea - i love writing sleepy spencer !! hope you like this <3 also lets just pretend emily got into the room with magic cuz i couldnt figure out how she'd get into the room 😭

You hesitated before knocking, your knuckles barely making a sound against the wooden door. You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, tapping your shoe nervously against the carpet.

A few seconds later, the door creaked open, revealing Spencer standing there in a loose t-shirt and sweatpants, his hair slightly tousled from sleep. His hazel eyes softened with confusion. 

"Hi," you greeted weakly, offering a tired smile. 

"Hi," he echoed, his brows furrowing. "Are you okay?" 

You couldn't blame him for asking. After all, it was two in the morning, and you'd shown up unannounced at his hotel room after an exhausting day working on the case. You swallowed hard, suddenly second-guessing yourself. 

"I—" You faltered, unable to find the right words. Because no, you weren’t okay. That’s exactly why you were here. 

Spencer didn’t wait for you to finish. Instead, he stepped aside, silently inviting you in.

"Come in," he said gently. 

You stepped inside, as your gaze drifted across the neatly arranged space—the open book on the nightstand, his clothes folded with meticulous precision on the chair. The sight of such organization brought a small, fleeting smile to your lips. 

“What’s wrong?” Spencer’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. He was already sitting on the edge of the bed, his long fingers resting lightly against his knees. He gestured for you to sit beside him, and you did, your knees brushing his as you settled in. 

You let out a slow breath. "I just... can't sleep," you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. 

Spencer studied you for a moment, and you knew—he knew. He had noticed throughout the day how the case had weighed on you.He had also noticed the way your hands trembled when you thought no one was looking.

“You want to talk about it?” he asked softly, his voice free of pressure, just an open offer. 

You shook your head. “Not right now.” 

He nodded, understanding as always. 

You hesitated before biting your lip, your knee pressing just slightly harder against his. The warmth of the touch sent a thrill through both of you, hearts drumming faster in unison. 

“Can I ask you for a favor?” you murmured, your voice unsure, almost timid. 

Spencer tilted his head, his expression soft but curious. “Anything.” 

Another silence. You exhaled slowly, gathering the courage to say it. 

“Can I sleep here? I just don’t want to be alone right now.”

The words felt fragile as they left your lips, almost afraid of being rejected. You kept your gaze down, suddenly fascinated by the wrinkle in the hotel comforter, unwilling to meet his eyes. 

Spencer didn’t hesitate. He nudged your knee again, firmer this time, silently coaxing you to look at him. And when you finally did, he was already nodding. 

“Yeah,” he said, his voice unwavering. “Of course you can.” 

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Spencer, meanwhile, was doing his best to suppress the way his pulse had kicked up at your request. 

He stood up, and instinctively, you did too. Neither of you knew what to do next. 

“So, uh… I can just sleep on the floor. That’s no problem,” Spencer offered, scratching the back of his neck.

His voice was uncharacteristically uncertain, and you didn’t miss the way a faint flush crept up his neck, blooming across his cheeks. But then again, who could blame him? The girl he was in love with was standing in his hotel room, asking to stay the night. 

“No, no,” you shook your head quickly. “Spence, I didn’t come here to take over your bed and make you sleep on the floor.” You gave him a small smile, hoping it would ease his nerves—yours too. “I just… I don’t want to be alone.” 

Your voice was softer this time, more vulnerable, and as you said it, your gaze drifted toward the bed.

And that’s when it really hit you—what you were asking for. To sleep in the same bed as Spencer. The same Spencer you had been in love with for what felt like forever. 

Your stomach twisted, equal parts nervous and thrilled. 

“Oh—oh, yeah. Right,” Spencer stammered, nodding rapidly. His hands twitched at his sides, like he didn’t know what to do with them. “I-I mean, so we can—uh—yeah, that makes sense.” His words tripped over each other, and you swore he somehow got even redder. 

You bit your lip to hide your smile, but a quiet chuckle still slipped out. It was strangely endearing—seeing the usually composed, genius-level profiler completely unravel just at the thought of sharing a bed with you. 

Trying to keep yourself from overthinking, you stepped toward the bed, moving to the left side.

You pushed back the covers, feeling Spencer’s eyes on you the entire time. He hadn’t moved yet, just stood there, frozen, like his brain was short-circuiting. 

“Spencer?” You turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. 

“Hm?” He blinked rapidly, snapping out of his daze. 

“You getting in, or…?” 

“Oh! Yes! Right,” he said quickly before practically tripping over his own feet to join you. The bed dipped slightly under his weight.

“I hope it’s okay if I keep a small light on,” he hesitated, his voice softer now. “But if you’d rather have it off, I can—” 

You turned your head toward him before he could finish, smiling at the way he was so concerned about your comfort. “It’s fine,” you assured him. “I actually think I’d prefer a light right now.” 

Spencer let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, nodding slightly. “Okay.” 

He glanced at you, just for a second, before quickly looking away again. The warmth on his neck deepened, the blush creeping to his ears now. He reached over and switched off the harsh overhead light, leaving only the soft glow of the bedside lamp.

You shifted slightly, turning your head toward him, and Spencer, still lying on his back, hesitated before tilting his head just enough to meet your eyes. 

“I’m sorry if I’m intruding,” you murmured, voice small, genuine. 

His brows pulled together slightly as he found the courage to fully turn onto his side, facing you completely. 

“You’re never intruding,” he said, and the certainty in his voice made your stomach flip. 

His eyes traced the way you absentmindedly brushed a strand of hair away from your face. The small, simple movement felt oddly intimate, and before he could even think about it, his own hand twitched as if he wanted to do the same. 

Instead, he clenched his fingers into the sheets, trying to steady his heartbeat. 

You swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of how close you were. Close enough to see the way his eyelashes flickered against his cheeks, close enough to count the freckles on his nose, close enough that if you moved even slightly forward, you— 

You pushed the thought away. 

“It was a rough case,” you suddenly mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Spencer's hazel eyes scanned your face with concern. Even in the dim light, you could see the way his brows furrowed, the way his lips parted slightly like he wanted to say something but was carefully choosing his words. 

“Yes, it was,” he agreed, his voice soft but laced with worry. 

A beat of silence passed before he spoke again, this time more certain. 

“I hope you know that you did a great job,” he said, his words gentle. A small, nervous smile flickered on his lips.

You bit your lip, your chest tightening at his reassurance.

“Thank you, Spence,” you whispered, letting your eyes meet his. 

And before you could overthink it, you reached for his hand, giving it a small squeeze. 

Spencer froze for half a second, his breath catching in his throat. The warmth of your fingers against his sent a shiver up his spine.

And maybe it was the way your fingers lingered a little longer than necessary, or maybe it was the way you kept biting your lip—something he had long since learned you did when you were nervous—but suddenly, Spencer found himself feeling just a little bit braver. 

So when you started to pull your hand back, instinctively retreating, he didn’t let go. 

Instead, he gently tightened his grip, his fingers threading through yours, locking them together like they were always meant to fit this way. 

Your breath hitched, eyes flickering up to meet his again. 

“I’m glad you came here,” he whispered, his fingers tracing over your hand in slow, delicate patterns. His gaze flickered downward, watching the way your fingers remained tangled together.

“Me too,” you admitted, your voice just as soft. 

You hadn’t even realized you had scooted closer—not until the space between you was barely there.

But then Spencer moved. 

With a shy kind of confidence, he turned onto his back and gently pulled you toward him.Your head landed against his chest, and for a split second, your breath stalled. 

But then you relaxed. 

The warmth of him seeped into you. His heartbeat thrummed beneath your cheek. And even as you adjusted, your fingers never let go of each other. 

Spencer swallowed hard, doing his best to seem normal, like his heart wasn’t practically slamming against his ribs at the fact that you were here, curled up against him, trusting him enough to be this close. 

His free hand hovered for a moment, uncertain, before he slowly—hesitantly—let it settle at your back. 

“You’re warm,” you mumbled sleepily, your voice slightly muffled against his shirt. 

Spencer let out a small, breathy chuckle. “So are you.” 

You tilted your head just slightly, peering up at him. “Is this okay?” 

Spencer looked down at you, his expression softer than you’d ever seen it. “Yeah,” he murmured, like there was never a doubt. “This is more than okay.” 

A small smile tugged at your lips as you settled back down, letting your eyes flutter shut. Spencer’s grip on your hand tightened just slightly.

Both of you ended up falling asleep smiling. And maybe it was because, for the first time in a long time, neither of you felt the weight of loneliness pressing down.

Either way, neither of you stirred when Spencer’s alarm went off the next morning. 

The alarm buzzed faintly before silencing itself, unnoticed by either of you—too wrapped up in sleep and in each other. 

At some point in the night, you had shifted, your body now draped over Spencer’s, your face tucked against his neck. His arm was wound securely around your waist, holding you close as if even in sleep, he couldn’t bear to let you go. 

Neither of you heard the knocking. 

When Emily hadn’t been able to find you anywhere else, she had hoped—guessed—that you might be with Spencer. Maybe going over case notes, maybe just talking. But when she knocked again and got no response, her brows furrowed. 

“Reid?” she called, twisting the handle.

The moment she stepped inside, she froze. 

Her eyes landed on the sight before her—Spencer, tangled up with you in bed, your body curled against his like you belonged there, his arm tight around you, his face buried somewhere in your hair. 

Emily blinked. Then blinked again. 

A slow smirk spread across her face. 

“Well,” she murmured to herself. “Would you look at that.” 

Not wanting to wake either of you (and also definitely wanting to use this as future blackmail), she carefully backed out of the room, closing the door behind her with a quiet click. 

As she walked down the hall, she pulled out her phone. 

Emily: Guess who I just found cuddled up in bed like a couple of love-struck teenagers? 

A second later, her phone buzzed. 

JJ: NO. WAY. 

Derek: Finally. 

With a satisfied grin, Emily slipped her phone back into her pocket. 

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Hotter Than Texas | Part IV

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!Reader

A/N: My friends, I'm finally posting an update. Y'all are extremely patient XD Hope you like it!

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw is tasked with transporting a not-so-delicate package in the form of Jake Seresin's baby sister, who turns out to be Bradley's dream girl worst nightmare.

Aka it's a road trip, strap in.

CW: swearing, age gap (10 years)

WC: 2200+

Part I | Masterlist

It takes Bradley a good long minute of staring before he can formulate a thought worth sharing, and the worthy part is highly debatable. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” he finally says.

You furrow your eyebrows at him in offence. “Excuse me?”

Bradley squeezes his eyes shut and rubs his face as though, with this action, he could effectively erase the last five minutes of the evening. If only he hadn’t asked. What had possessed him to ask? He slides his hands slowly down his face just as the server delivers a plate of tortilla chips and cheese dip to your table. The truth is, he just can’t picture you in a uniform, conforming. You are one of a kind – the antithesis of the military mold. “Why?” he asks, instead of voicing any particular opinion – of which he has many.

You shrug. “Because I can.”

Bradley grimaces. “You’ve got to have a better reason than that.”

“Why? Because you did?”

Bradley watches you wearily. “Because it’s not easy. Because it’s the fucking pits, actually.” He sighs heavily. “Because it’s all consuming –”

“You told me to follow my gut.”

Bradley takes a beat, flabbergasted. “Obviously, that was before I knew which direction your gut was pointing.”

You purse your lips and glance down at the untouched queso on the table. “I want to fly,” you say quietly.

Bradley stares at you. “Take a vacation,” he says. “Get a window seat.”

You fix him with a cold look. “You ass.”

“Come on,” he responds with a small smile. “You’re not going to tank half a decade of your life just to sit in a cockpit.”

You stare through his eyes right into his soul. “You don’t think I can do it, do you?”

Bradley groans uncomfortably. “That’s not it at all. On the contrary, I think you can do pretty much anything you want. I just don’t think you’d be happy doing this.”

“You can’t possibly know what would make me happy. You don’t even know me.”

Bradley nods despite being hurt by the comment. He’s only known you for a couple of days, sure, but somehow, it feels like a lifetime. “You’re right,” he says, suddenly losing his appetite. “I barely know you. You probably shouldn’t have even told me.”

You roll your eyes and gather about a pound of queso onto your chip. “Are you seriously going to sulk all through dinner?”

“I’m not sulking,” Bradley replies, irritated that you’ve noticed.

“I told you because you asked,” you say. “But nobody else knows. And I’d like to keep it that way until everything is finalized. I don’t want to be swayed.”

Bradley raises his eyebrows. “You want me to keep this from your brother?”

“Mmhmm,” you mumble around the chip in your mouth.

“Are you crazy?” Bradley hisses. His relationship with your brother is strained enough as it is. And crushing on his baby sister is bad enough without also lying to Jake on top of it all.

“Pretend you don’t know,” you suggest.

It’s Bradley’s turn to stare you down. “I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” he sighs wearily, “I want you to be swayed. You can’t just join the Navy on a whim –”

“This isn’t a whim –”

“Do you realize the implications here? You are signing your life away. That’s it. It’s not yours anymore. You want that?”

“There’s more to it than that.”

“Sure, but that’s the main part. You don’t get to decide anything anymore. Where you live, how you live, if you live. They decide for you.”

You shrug. “I can live with that.”

Bradley shakes his head. “Do you want that?”

You give him a meaningful look. “Do you regret your decision?”

Bradley releases a steady sigh. You got him there. “No,” he responds grudgingly.

“So, obviously, there’s more to it than just completely renouncing your freedom.”

There is, and he wouldn’t give it up for anything. But still, something tells him that it’s not for you. “You’ve made up your mind?”

You swirl another chip in the cheese, deliberating. “I think so.”

Bradley watches you soak your tortilla until it’s soggy, wondering how any of this is real. “Okay, I won’t say anything.”

…

The next few hours of the drive are mostly silent. Bradley concentrates on the route rather than his unfortunate exchange with you while you spend the time looking out the window. Not that there is much to see on the interstate, but that doesn’t seem to deter you.

He feels bad. He was kind of hard on you – and perhaps a tad overbearing considering he isn’t a close friend who might have any influence over your decisions. You didn’t tell him because you wanted his input. You told him because Bradley’s a nosy prick who wouldn’t let it go until you did. And now you’re mad at him and you have every right to be.

Truthfully, he considers that this may be the best-case scenario. The two of you were becoming far too friendly and Hangman would certainly have noticed. This way, he can drop off his passenger in ten hours’ time without a second thought and be on his way. No drawn-out goodbyes, no clumsy embraces, no guilt-ridden conversations with brother dearest. Yes, this is how it should have been from the start. Awkward silence, buzzing radio, peace and quiet.

Bradley eyes you inconspicuously as he checks his rearview mirror. Your expression is completely stoic as you stare straight ahead, ignoring Bradley’s presence completely.

Bradley looks over at you more obviously; he can’t help it. But you turn your head to look out your own window.

Bradley sighs. “Now who’s sulking?” he says.

You glance at him bitterly but say nothing at all.

“Look, I’m sorry, alright?” he says, sounding more impatient than apologetic. “You just took me by surprise.” Everything about this trip has taken him by surprise, if he’s being honest.

You fold your arms over your chest mutely.

“Don’t be mad,” Bradley says.

You look over at him sharply. “Trust me, darlin’, this ain’t mad.”

Bradley smiles at you despite himself. “Well, that’s worrisome.”

You roll your eyes but the corners of your mouth lift microscopically. “I’m just … irked.”

Bradley pulls his lips in to keep from grinning as this might irk you further. “I’m sorry for irking you.”

You draw in a deep breath, as though you’re trying to gather the strength to continue coexisting with an imbecile like Bradley. But then you release it and say, “I know that it was unexpected,” you say calmly. “And I know that you’re concerned.”

Bradley nods solemnly at the road ahead of him rather than at you.

“Which I appreciate, I suppose,” you continue, shrugging.

Bradley furrows his brows apprehensively. “I just want you to think it through,” he reasons. “And part of thinking it through is discussing it with someone who’s been in your shoes.”

“Maybe,” you respond. “I guess I’m just worried someone will talk me out of it.”

Bradley nods again. Somebody talking you out of it is exactly what he had in mind.

“Anyway,” you say, reaching over and placing your hand on Bradley’s thigh. “Friends?”

Bradley, whose leg is tingling so intensely under your palm that it nearly spasms, looks over at you feebly. “Friends,” he manages to say, although it comes out as a half-whispered croak.

…

“Should we call roadside assistance or something?” you say, skeptically eyeing the wrench in Bradley’s hand.

Bradley gives you an amused look and crouches down before the flat. “You think I’ve never changed a tire?” he calls back over the roar of traffic trying to beat rush hour on the I-10 as he starts to loosen the lug nuts.

“I think you might stain your shirt,” you respond, still sounding hesitant.

“I’ll be careful,” he says, positioning the jack under the Bronco. “Stay back from the road, will ya?” he adds when you walk around the car to observe the flow of traffic.

“I’m looking for a tow truck,” you say absently, craning your neck.

“We don’t need a tow truck,” Bradley replies emphatically. He rises from his squatted position and walks around the vehicle to where you’re standing. “Can you please step back?” he repeats patiently, placing a hand on your arm. “You’re making me nervous.”

You turn to face him, your back to the speeding cars on the freeway. He just missed the last exit when his tire blew, so he had to pull off onto the shoulder, which isn’t the safest place to stop.

“Maybe you should wait inside the car” – like he’d originally suggested – but Bradley doesn’t voice that part.

“I’d rather stretch my legs,” you say, twisting your hips to one side and then the other as though you’re loosening your joints.

Bradley watches you wryly. “Can you stretch them over here?” he asks, pulling you right up to the concrete barrier.

“How’s the tire coming along?” you ask, eyeing the raised back end of the Bronco.

“It’s coming,” Bradley retorts with a smirk. “It’ll come faster if you behave.” In all honesty, Bradley didn’t anticipate the amount of supervision you’d require. Not that he’s averse to keeping an eye on you. After all, you’re pretty easy on the eyes.

You raise your eyebrows at him. “Am I misbehaving?” you ask with a mischievous smile.

Bradley does a double take just as he’s about to go back to attend to the tire. He’s not surprised at the way you’ve interpreted his statement; he meant for it to be misconstrued. Although, now that you’ve responded in kind, he’s sort of speechless, especially since you were giving him the silent treatment not two hours ago.

You push off the barrier and approach him slowly, your eyes holding his gaze temptingly. You place a hand over his chest and Bradley experiences something he imagines is akin to being struck by lightning – but infinitely more enjoyable. You proceed to sweep your fingers over his pecs while Bradley proceeds to dissolve beneath your touch. “You got your shirt dirty,” you say matter-of-factly, as though you might as well be dusting a mantelpiece.

Bradley, very much shaken by this interaction which he’s clearly misread, gulps and takes a hold of your hand before you can continue to brush at him. “It’s an old shirt,” he responds, trying to keep his voice as calm and as steady as he can.

“What if it won’t come clean?” you ask sadly.

Bradley watches you for a moment, captivated and bewildered in equal measure. “I have other shirts,” he reassures you.

“I like this one,” you say, tugging slightly on the lapel.

“Alright, well, I can soak it overnight, I guess.”

“You guess?” you ask reproachfully.

Bradley stares at you in confusion. “Yeah, I guess – listen,” he pauses to emphasize his point. “It’s kind of a dangerous place to be discussing laundry.”

You glance up at him, your eyes searching his. “Are you gonna kiss me, Brad Bradshaw?”

Bradley blacks out for an entire three seconds, then says, “Here?” because he hasn’t even let himself rehearse this type of situation. And now, he’s evidently unprepared. He gulps again but his throat is so dry it feels like he’s been chewing on dust for the last half hour. “Do you want me to?” he stammers.

You shrug, as if you could take it or leave it. “If you want.”

Bradley, so immersed in the moment that he forgets entirely their precarious position on the shoulder of the interstate, blurts out, “I’ve wanted to since the moment you called me the dorkiest guy at the station.”

You giggle. “Is that all it takes?”

“Apparently.”

You take a step closer to him, your eyes drifting down to his chest where you tentatively place your hand right over his heart. “You were also the cutest,” you say, lifting your gaze to meet his again.

Bradley, who’s riding a fine line between delight and delirium, tries to hide his growing grin as he verifies, “You think?”

“With a great sense of style.”

Bradley snorts, picking up on your facetiousness. “Accessories sold separately,” he mutters as you tug on his open Hawaiian shirt. He takes a step toward you obediently.

You eye him mischievously, a staring contest for the ages. “Kinda had my heart set on the whole package.”

Bradley’s insides violently convulse, but he can’t fathom a more pleasant experience. He’d really like to tell you that it’s yours, whatever your heart desires. He’d really like to sink his hands into your hips and pull you in, press himself against you, watch as your lips part in anticipation. And he’d truly give just about anything for a taste of your mouth, of the skin on your neck, of…

He takes a step back, clearing his throat awkwardly. “I – uh – gotta finish this while there’s still light.”

You blink at him in surprise but quickly regain composure. “Sure, of course, sugar,” you respond nonchalantly. “I won’t get in your way.”

Bradley sighs mournfully. “You’re not getting in my way.”

You hold his gaze boldly. “Well, I was about to, wasn’t I?” you retort with a knowing smile.

Bradley briefly closes his eyes. “Yeah,” he admits, opening them back up to look at you. “Yeah, you were.”

You hold your hands up mildly, as if to indicate that you’re conceding. “Won’t happen again, Lieutenant.”

Bradley, who receives this statement with as much disappointment as would a toddler deprived of his Halloween candy, grimaces. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he replies, knowing full well he's bound to break before the two of you ever reach Dallas.

Tag List

I’ll be tagging the rest in the comments shortly! And please let me know if you no longer want to be tagged!

@joaquinwhorres

@katiemcrae

@sehnsuchts-trunken

@toomuchfluffs

@wintercap89

@lonelywitchv2

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@ratedtvpg

@mak-32

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@daniibzz

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@adaydreamaway08

@mattyskies

@desert-fern

@catsandbooksandstuff

@Topguncultleader

@avengers-fixation

[wosospacegirl]

Stuck with you - part 2

Summary: Y/n’s used to Alexia’s overprotectiveness and the pressure of her career—but Kika? The shy, socially awkward teammate who’s starting to make her feel things she didn’t expect.

Warnings: Y/n is absolutely oblivious to everything, Kika is adorably awkward, Alexia is a complete idiot, Aitana is old, and Olga is mother. <3 Real warning now - angst!! Alexia and Y/n fight on this one, again.

Word count: 5.5k

MASTERLIST

| PART 1 |

..

The week of training had been intense.

An Él clássico was approaching, and Romeu was making sure all the girls were physically and mentally prepared, even if it meant pushing them to the brink with his bizarre ideas about team dynamics.

Y/n wanted to win the game, of course, but she also wanted to keep all her limbs.

When Alexia and Y/n arrived at training–without any fighting, miraculously– they were quickly separated by the assistant coach into two teams: seniors and youngsters. 

“What is he doing?” Vicky whispered to Y/n as they made their way to the left side of the pitch. “I bought new training boots, tio [bro], I wanted to use them for, you know…football, not this.”

“I have no idea,” Y/n replied. “He always comes up with the most absurd ideas ever known to mankind, or well, manager kind.” 

“Guys, guys!”

Y/n and Vicky turned around at the sound of Jana’s voice.  She was walking towards them, her ponytail swishing with each step she took on the grass.

However, it was the girl on Jana’s side that caught Y/n’s attention.

Kika.

She had the same sweet smile on her face as she always did. People might expect Kika to be tired by now; it was Friday and she had completed her first full week at Barcelona, but instead of tired, she seemed excited and full of energy.

The whole team had warmed up to her already, even Alexia. Y/n had noticed the other day how Kika and Alexia had a cordial and amicable conversation in the changing room.

It was something about Alexia wanting to learn Portuguese–Alexia had never mentioned this desire to learn another language to Y/n.

“I think we’re doing a tug of war,” Jana said, a mischievous glint in her brown eyes.

“What?!” Y/n and Vicky said in unison.

Romeu was known for creating…unique training methods. Most of them had weird rules and were very physically demanding, but tug of war? That was–peculiar– even for Romeu.

“How the hell would tug of war help us in anything?” Vicky asked exasperated. 

“We’re just going to get burns on our hands,” Y/n muttered, facepalming. “Now it’s a good time to pretend to have cramps or what?”

Kika chuckled at Y/n’s remark, which brought Y/n’s attention back to the Portuguese girl.

She had a pretty smile, and a cute laugh as well.

“Kika said she saw the biggest rope in Romeu’s office, and that he was searching about how the tug of war could be beneficial to other sports,” Jana explained, placing her hand on Kika’s shoulder, who leaned into the touch.

Hmm, okay.

Y/n shifted the weight between her feet, trying to suppress the uncomfortable feeling in her chest. It looked like Kika was really settling in.

“What were you doing in Romeu's office?” Vicky asked, raising an eyebrow.

“He called me to talk about how my first week went,” Kika replied.

The conversation was cut short when Romeu walked onto the pitch. And it looked like Kika was right after all.

Romeu had the largest rope Y/n had ever seen. All the other girls were staring at it weirdly, wide-eyed.

“Alright, girls! Today we’re doing tug of w–”

“Why?” Y/n interrupted, deadpan.

“Huh?” Romeu asked, raising an eyebrow while turning to Y/n. The large rope on his hand made the scene look…comical, to say the least.

“Why are we doing this? Does it have a real benefit?”

Romeu was silent for a moment, not used to the players questioning him.

“Hm, yes, Y/n.” He said. “It’ll make the team grow closer together, it’ll tighten the bond you all have with each other.”

“Why tug of war, though,” Jana asked, clearly confused. “Is this supposed to make us stronger or just humiliate us?”

“You guys will have to work together as a team,” Romeu explained. “And it’ll be fun, trust me, no humiliat–”

“I don’t think it’s fun,” Vicky said bluntly. “Does anyone think it’s fun? To pull a rope around and what? Laugh at the team that loses?”

“Yeah, it seems boring,” Pina chimed in.

“We could just play volleyball if we’re trying to build team spirit,” Vicky suggested.

“Or we could just play football,” Y/n added with a shrug before looking at her arms disappointed. “I’ve got the upper body strength of a noodle, this isn’t gonna end well.”

“I’m with Y/n on this one,” Pina agreed, leaning in on Patri, who also nodded in agreement.

Jana raised her hand like she had a better idea. “Oh, we could also–”

“Do you girls want to go back to La Masia?” Romeu interrupted, emotionless.

The four girls immediately shut their mouths and shook their heads.

“If you’ve got better ideas, you can coach next week,” he muttered. “Kids…” 

Y/n rolled her eyes but stayed quiet, listening as he explained the dY/namics of the game.

She was zooming out when she felt a sharp tug on her ear.

“Stop talking back to Romeu,” Alexia whispered, a typical frown on her face.

The girls were too busy listening to the instructions to hear their conversation. Thank God, Y/n didn’t want everybody to hear her getting lectured by Alexia…again.

“Stop tugging my ear like I'm five!” y/n hissed back.

“Stop acting like you’re five,” Alexia replied. “I know it’s hard for you, but try, yeah?”

“Why don't you tug Vicky's ear too?” y/n asked annoyed. “She’s just as bad as me.”

“Because I didn’t practically raise Vicky like I did you,” Alexia said, smirking slightly. “Be on your good behaviour, please.”

Y/n turned to Romeu and the group, making sure they were all too absorbed in the tug-of-war thing before turning back around to face Alexia.

“Ale, come on,” Y/n said. “Don’t make a deal about it.”

“Managers are supposed to be respected,” Alexias said, ignoring Y/n, with a tone that made it clear she was serious.

Alexia was the perfect little player. She always trusted her manager, always listened to them, and always made sure to be the best captain and athlete for them, especially for Romeu.

It wasn’t that Y/n was impolite to Romeu or any other manager she had, it just was that she didn’t put them on the same pedestal that Alexia did. 

Y/n didn’t see a problem in questioning Romeu, but Alexia felt like she was the only one allowed to do that, or else, it was disrespectful.

“I didn't disrespect him! Why are you bothering me about it, tio?” Y/n argued.

“You know he’ll bench you if he doesn’t like your attitude,” Alexia said quietly. “I want you on the pitch, not sitting on the sideline.”

Y/n’s heart softened at her words, but she still didn’t like how Alexia tugged at her ear like she was a kid. 

But Alexia was right–only this time, though. She needed to be on Romeu's good side to play one of the most important games of the season.

Last month Patri said something to Romeu that he didn’t like and she was benched for two whole games. Y/n didn't want to end up like that, especially with El Clássico approaching.

“Okay,” Romeu said, clapping his hand. “Split yourself into those two teams I talked about, seniors take the right end of the rope, youngsters, the left.

“Aitana, you stay with the seniors,” Romeu said, pointing at Alexia, Marta and other players.

Aitana looked at him confused. “But Ona is with the youngest and we’re just months apart.”

“The classification is based on who has more back pain and who forgets where they put their keys,” Vicky teased.

Aitana gave her a blank stare while the whole team laughed. 

“Right, so I’m basically a walking cane now,” Aitana said dryly, crossing her arms as she started to walk to the other side.

Alexia greeted her with open arms, a victorious smile on her face, even though the teams hadn’t even started the game.

“She’s really like a big sister to you,” Y/n heard Kika’s voice behind her. “Oh–sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude on your conversation,” Kika said laughing nervously. “I just– I overheard it.”

“Yeah, she’s…too much sometimes,” Y/n said with a small, amused smile before preparing for the tug of war.

Kika positioned herself directly in front of Y/n.

And then it began.

Both groups were pulling the rope with everything they had.

Y/n’s fingers were burning from the friction, but what was really burning was the spot on her thigh where Kika’s leg was pressing against her. 

Kika was directly in front of her– bent low to keep her foot– so in consequence, her thigh was firmly pressed against Y/n’s.

Y/n shouldn’t have worn shorts to training, she should have stuck to her leggings, or sometimes that covered more skin. 

Y/n tried to ignore it.

Y/n was going to think of puppies. Flowers. Anything but Kika.

“Pull the fucking rope!” Jana’s voice barked from behind her. “Why are you letting it slip?”

Crap. She was distracted.

Kika distracted her.

Y/n gritted her teeth and pulled the rope harder. Across from her, Alexia’s face was set in that determined, slightly terrifying expression that usually meant she was winning. 

But this time, La Reina lost.

When Alexia’s team hit the ground in defeat, Alexia shot up unnaturally fast, her white training kit smeared with dirt and grass. Sweat dripped down her forehead as she pointed at the younger girls.

“They cheated, Romeo!” Alexia protested furiously.

Y/n had been too busy celebrating to care about Alexia’s reaction. She hugged Vicky, and then Jana, then Ona–and finally, without thinking, she wrapped her arms around the nearest body around her.

“We did it!” Y/n said, happily, still riding the high of winning over the seniors, and especially, Alexia.

That was until she realised it.

Kika. She was hugging Kika.

Y/m froze when she realized, pulling back immediately as if she had touched something on fire.

“Oh– I'm sorry,” Y/n stammered.

“No, it's…alright,”  Kika said, her voice nervous, but softer at the same time.

Kika’s ace was flushed, the redness creeping down her neck, her hands shifted at her sides, not knowing exactly what to do.

Y/n gave her an awkward smile before heading to the changing room.

That should’ve been the end of it — except when Y/n glanced back, she saw Kika laughing with Vicky and Patri, an arm draped around each of them.

Kika didn’t seem to get nervous when the other girls were around her, only when Y/n was. She didn’t seem to tense up around them.

Maybe it was something personal? Maybe Y/n made Kika feel uncomfortable somehow? 

Y/n wasn’t the most charismatic person around. That’d be Vicky and Jana, but she didn't like to think her personality was prone to make others uncomfortable.

Y/n thought she was rather distant already. She didn’t fuss over anyone like Alexia did–so she thought she and Kika were okay, but seeing how Kika just looked way more at ease with the other girls left a bitter taste in Y/n’s mouth.

Yeah… Y/n needed to back off.

It wasn't the first time Kika acted nervous around Y/n.

Just yesterday Y/n asked if it was okay if she used the treadmill next to Kika at the gym and Kika began stammering.

Was Y/n that unbearable to be around?

It wasn’t like she wanted Kika to be nervous and uncomfortable around the other girls. She just wished Kika could.

Maybe be more at ease with her, too?

..

That doubt lingered in Y/n’s mind as she poked at food later in Barcelona’s restaurant. Marta and Aitana were chatting away, but Y/n couldn’t focus. 

The stranger feeling in her chest–one that she couldn’t put a name in–was too loud.

Y/n was pulled out of her thoughts when Alexia sat down by her side, putting her plate–filled with greens– on the table and grumbling under her breath.

“What?” Aitana asked.

“Just… the tug of war was so unfair and–”

“Déu meu,” [Oh my god] Y/n muttered as she pushed her chair back, grabbing her plate.

“Estrellita, where are you going?”

Y/n rolled her eyes at the nickname. How many times will she have to ask Alexa not to call her that?

“Eat in peace.”

“What do you mean?” Alexia challenged. “Do I disturb your peace?”

“Every day,” Y/n shot back.

She heard Alexia mumble something about how Y/n still hadn't lost the teenager's moodiness but ignored her. She just wanted to find a new table.

Unfortunately, every spot was taken–except one.

Kika's.

She was sitting alone, though she didn't seem to mind.

Y/n hesitate. She wasn’t about to pull an ‘Alexia’ and invade Kika’s space.

But then–

Kika waved.

Y/n blinked confused, Maybe it was for somebody else. She looked at her left, then at her right.

Kika continued to wave.

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows and looked behind her.

“You are hopeless,” Alexia muttered, pointing at Kika. “Don't you see Kika waving at you? Go sit down!”

Before Y/n could process it, Alexia gave her a light shove in Kika’s direction.

Y/n found herself standing awkwardly in front of Kika’s table, unsure what to do with her hands.

“Hi?” She tried.

“Hi,” Kika smiled.

They were in silence. 

“Do…do you wanna sit?” Kika asked nervously. 

There it was again– that nervousness. Yep, Y/n was definitely making her uncomfortable, no doubts about that now.

Maybe Kika was just being polite and offering a seat because she felt bad watching Y/n standing in the middle of the restaurant.

“No, it's okay,” Y/n said quickly.

“Oh, are you sure?” Kika asked, looking around. “All the other tables are full.”

Okay. So it was just pity.

“Hmm,” Y/n looked at the free chair in front of her, not really sure about what to do…eating while standing up seemed pathetic, even for her.

“I can eat standing up with you, if you want” Kika offered, saying, already moving her plate.

“Oh no! I’ll– I’ll just sit,” Y/n blurted, hurriedly sliding into the seat before Kika could follow through. “Here. I’ll sit here.

Kika's expression faltered a bit. 

Yep, she definitely did not want Y/n there.

It was like one of those moments when you offer someone food–to be polite–and they actually say yes.

It wasn’t like Y/n didn’t understand it. She wasn’t the easiest person to be around. She was–in addition to other things– quiet, grumpy, maybe a little rude when she absolutely didn't mean to and when she did mean to.

And now she was sitting here, and probably bothering Kika.

Y/n shifted uncomfortably in her chair. She was going to eat fast, keep her head down, and leave before Kika could notice.

But when Y/n looked up, Kika was eating normally, seemingly unfazed, almost as if Y/n wasn’t there.

Y/n decided to follow Kika’s lead and appreciate the amazing fish Barcelona’s cook had prepared. 

The silence between them stretched on, heavy and awkward.

Y/n was good at silence, the best ever. She could be quiet for hours without a problem. 

But in some way, being in silence in Kika’s presence felt…wrong. 

“So…how’s your day been?” Y/n asked,  trying to steer some conversation. Asking about Kika’s day was good, casual, safe territory. 

Although she pretty much spent the whole day with Kika, she knew almost everything that had happened. Next time she should try asking about the weather.

Kika smiled shyly, taking a bite of her food before answering. “Good and busy! I’m getting used to everything here.”

Y/n nodded, offering a small smile pressed in a tight line on the lips. 

Before she could respond, Kika reached for her glass of water, but her hand slipped, and the glass tipped over, spilling water all over the table and onto Y/n’s lap.

Kika’s face flushed red immediately. "Oh no! I’m so sorry, I–”

Kika quickly grabbed a napkin and started dabbing furiously at the mess on the table. “I’m so sorry, I didn't mean to–It just–” The girl kept rambling, her words tumbling over each other as she panicked. “Do you have a change of shorts?! Merda, you can grab one of mine, no problem.” [shit] 

Y/n just… stared at the whole thing for a moment. Not in a mean way, just in a–blanky way, like her brain needed a minute to process whatever had just happened…because of course, this would happen today.

Right at the moment that she was having some–very minor–success in trying to socialise with other people the universe decided to pour cold water on her, literally.

“It’s okay,” Y/n muttered after a few seconds, barely loud enough for Kika to hear. Y/n wasn’t sure what she could say, she never spilt her drinks or anyone or had anyone do it to her…and it really was okay. It was only water. 

Should Y/n…take more napkins? They were all in Kika’s hand already. Should she get up now? Maybe grab a towel in the kitchen to dry the table? Oh that would be a good idea, maybe Y/n could grab more napkins while she was in the kitchen and–

“I’m such an idiot,” Kika mumbled under her breath.

“No you’re not,” Y/n said quickly, too quickly. 

Y/n bit her lip, feeling like she already said too much. She wasn’t the best at comforting people, and knowing her luck, she shouldn’t even try to comfort Kika, she would probably make her feel worse. 

She always seemed uneasy around y/n, especially now.

Kika turned away her attention from the table to Y/n’s legs. She started at Y/n’s tights, and then at the napkins on her hands, and then at Y/n’s leg again. She took a step closer and nervously began drying Y/n’s shorts–and bits of her skin.

Y/n’s breath got caught up in her mouth. She just…froze, again. Kika rubbed the rough material of the cheap napkin against shorts, but the fabric had already absorbed most of the water, so it felt like Kika was drying–y/n’s skin?

“Hey, it’s okay,” Y/n said firmly, reaching out to grab Kika’s wrists before she could rub another napkin into her skin. They kinda burned.

Kika froze instantly, her hand still hovering just above Y/n’s leg. Her fingers twitched while holding the napkins, almost as if she wasn’t sure whether to pull away or insist on drying Y/n off.

Then Kika looked up, her brown eyes wide and startled, and for a moment she just…stared.

Y/n, as a great connoisseur of social interaction, stared back, slightly pressing her hands against Kika’s wrists. 

Her skin was soft and warm, and Y/n liked it. It feels comforting to touch it.

“I should, hm–” Kika stammered, yanking her wrists away from Y/n and moving too fast and nearly knocking Y/n’s glass off the table in the process. “I-I will..grab more napkins.”

“Yeah, right,” Y/n nodded, stiffly, watching as Kika hurried off like she was running from her. Again.

Y/n stabbed the piece of fish with her fork bitterly, not caring about how wet her tights were. She only cared about how Kika hurried off like she couldn't get fast enough.

In the end, Y/n didn’t see Kika for the rest of the day. She wasn’t training at the pitch in the afternoon, but Y/n didn’t know why. 

So she asked around, very casually, about the missing girl.

At first, she tried Vicky and Jana.

“Hi,” Y/n said, leaning in one of the lockers while Jana changed her shirt and Vick did her hair. “How was lunch? Didn’t see you guys at the restaurant.”

“We went to that Italian place I told you about,” Jana said while bending down to fix her boots. “The one you said was way overpriced and that you’d never go?” 

Y/n rolled her eyes at Jana’s comment. Y/n didn't like to go out much, not even with her friends — she just liked to play football and go home. Vicky understood that better than Jana. Jana’s love language was quality time or something like that.

“But it was good,” Jana added, “I ordered caprese salad and Vicky had some fettuccine alfredo.”

“Hmm,” Y/n said, trying to sound disinterested.

“Why do I think you only asked about our lunch because you want something?” Vicky asked. “What is it? Just say it.”

“Have you–like–seen Kika?” Y/n asked, playing with her hair and not making eye contact, “I’m just curious, haven’t seen her around for some time.”

Vicky and Jana shared a look Y/n couldn’t quite decode.

“We haven’t seen her since the tug of war earlier,” Jana said, smiling at her. “But maybe she’s at physio?”

“Yeah, I don’t know either.”

Y/n mumbled something that sounded like a thank you and left the room.

She needed someone nosy, someone who was always in other people’s business.

And that’s when she saw Aitana and Alexia at the pitch, both stretching their legs while having a conversation.

Without thinking too much, Y/n casually walked over, positioned herself next to them and started to stretch, trying to look as nonchalant as possible while awkwardly pulling her thigh up against her body.

“Estrellita, hi!” Aitana said smiling. “What do you want?” Aitana was always straightforward.

“What? Can’t I just hang out with my lovely teammates?” Y/n said, voice just a little too casual.

Aitana raised an eyebrow while Alexia looked amused.

“Well–” Y/n said, looking at the two girls. She couldn’t be as honest as Aiatana, so she had to…play around a little bit. “I was wondering about our schedule for the day.”

“Schedule?” Alexia asked, confused. “What schedule? We do the same thing every day: gym, training, lunch, training, go home.”

“Hm, right,” Y/n said. “But it's not always the same for every player.”

“Yeah, that’s why they send us our own weekly calendar,” Aitana pointed out, her tone suspicious.

“Are you looking for someone?” Alexia asked, a knowing smile on her lips.

“What?! No of course not,” Y/n said way too fast. “Why would you think that? I’m just trying to have a conversation here…”

“Right,” Aitana said suspiciously, dragging out the word like she didn’t believe her for a second.

“Well, if you happen to be looking for someone–” Alexia said, “And that someone happens to be the new Portuguese girl, just know that she’s doing some media training for the rest of the day.”

Alexia winked at her.

Y/n felt her face heat up instantly. Great. Just great. Without saying a word, she turned on her heel and stormed off, nearly tripping over her own shoelace in the process. ‘Perfect’, she thought, scowling. ‘Now I look like an idiot on top of everything else.’

..

“Fix your face,” Y/n muttered while sitting on the passenger seat, Alexia by her side, hands on the wheel as she started the car.

“I’ll fix mine when you fix yours,” Alexia grumbled back, in the same tone as Y/n. 

They were in silence.

Y/n hummed through the songs playing on the radio while Alexia had a frown on her face, her lips in a tight line.

“I just think it’s unfair, Estrelitta,” Alexia stated after 14 minutes of no talking–Y/n counted, it was the closest she got to heaven.

“What?” Y/n asked as they drove through the park Alexia used to take her to train a few years ago when she still was a teen.

It was a good memory.

“That you guys cheated!” Alexia snapped.

“Déu meu, Alexia,” y/n said as she considered throwing herself out of the moving vehicle. “How can you cheat at fucking tug of war, Alexia?!”

“Okay, first: language,” Alexia said sternly, “Second, you can cheat by using magnesium to get a better grip on the rope.”

Alexia said magnesium in the same tone someone would disclose a big, juicy, secret.

“And where do you think we would find magnesium,” Y/n asked exasperated, she tried to be a chill person but Alexia really brought out the worst in her. “We’re footballers not fucking Rebeca Andrade e Simone Biles.” 

Y/n made sure Alexia saw her rolling her eyes, to get her point across. 

“I saw something white on Jana’s hand,” Alexia continued. “Maybe she got it from someone else…do you happen to know any gymnast?” 

“Do I look like I know a lot of people to you?” Y/n asked impatiently. “Better yet a gymnast…? You sound like you would prefer Jana to have cocaine on her hands rather than magnesium. Chill, Ale.”

Alexia never dropped an argument, never. 

Y/n learned to deal with this by simply walking away. She wasn’t one of those people who always needed to be right, but Alexia was.

Unfortunately, Y/n couldn’t walk away from a moving car.

Alexia did not stop complaining though. 

Alexia moaned for 9 minutes straight–y/n counted, again – about the tug-of-war thing. Y/n was going to burn the fucking rope next time she was at the training centre so Romeu would never bring it up.

When Alexia brought up her hallucination about Jana using magnesium for the eleventh time, Y/n decided it was enough.

Y/n had a bad day.

Kika had been acting weird around her while acting normal and friendly with the other girls. She got all wet at the restaurant because Kika spilt water on her–not that she was mad at the girl. And to top it all off, Y/n made a lot of mistakes during the afternoon sessions.

The only–small–victory of her day was the stupid tug of war, and Alexia was taking that away from that by being a whiner.

“Alexia! Please, shut up,” Y/n snapped, turning her torso to stare at Alexia, who seemed to cough off guard by Y/n’s sudden shift in attitude.

Moments ago she was just listening to it. Her usual grumpy face. But now? Now she was mad.

“I really don’t know how Olga can deal with you,” Y/n continued. “You’re impossible to put up with! It was a game, Ale! A game! Get over it.”

They had finally arrived home and Alexia turned off the car before she turned to Y/n, anger on her face.

“At least, I have someone to put up with me,” Alexia said as she got out of the car, slamming the door shut. 

Y/n mouth was agape. “And I bet Olga has to really try because you’re annoying as fuck!”

Y/n followed Alexia inside the house, making sure to slam the car door even harder. When Alexia opened the door, they continued their yelling.

Olga who was lying on the sofa in her pyjamas couldn’t understand a thing of what was happening and why the two women were yelling at each other.

Alexia threw her training bag on the floor. “I’m annoying but at least somebody loves me!” Alexia said angrily. “I'm not angry and cranky all the time like you are.”

Alexia’s words felt like a slap to her face. 

Y/n froze, staring at Alexia, not knowing what to say, not knowing what to do. Especially because, deep down, and given her history, it was true.

Y/n’s parents had sent Y/n off to live with someone they didn't know when she was only fourteen. Laura, her ex-girlfriend, had only been with her for the money. 

“Alexia!” Olga sternly said, getting up from the sofa quickly.

If Y/n wasn’t so upset by what Alexia had just said, she would have laughed at the way Olga tugged at Alexia’s ear–the same way Alexia did to her–while giving her a full lecture about empathy.

Unfortunately, the damage was done. 

She quickly took her training bag and made her way to her room, ignoring the way Alexia and Olga were calling for her.

..

Hours had passed, maybe two, maybe more. 

Y/n had already taken a shower and changed into comfy clothes. She decided she was going to take the sadness away.

She was lying on her bed, her face buried in her pillow when she heard a soft knock on her door. Y/n didn’t answer, hoping whoever it was would just leave her alone.

“Y/n,” Olga’s voice called softly before she opened the door anyway. Typical.

“I brought you some water,” Olga said, setting the glass on Y/n’s nightstand before sitting on the edge of the bed. “Also thought about bringing some chocolate, but I was scared you would…throw it at my head”

Despite herself, Y/n let out a chuckle against the pillow.

“There she is,” Olga said with a smile. “Look, I know Alexia’s a complete idiot sometimes and what she said earlier…”

Y/n tensed, her smile disappearing as she pressed her face closer to the pillow. It was like if she couldn’t see Olga, then Olga wouldn't see her as well.

“She didn’t mean it like that,” Olga said quietly. “I know it sounded bad — like really bad — but she was angry, and you know how her mouth runs faster than her brain sometimes, well, most of the time.”

Y/n swallowed hard, her throat tightening.

“She’s not wrong, though,” Y/n muttered, her voice muffled. “At least she has people who care about her– her parents, her sisters…you.”

“You really believe that? That you don’t have people who love you?” Olga asked, her voice softer now. “Because if you do… then you’re more oblivious than I thought.”

Y/n turned her head slightly, just enough to see Olga sitting beside her on the mattress, her eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“You think Alexia doesn’t care about you?” Olga continued, looking at Man's face, her wide eyes reminding her of when Y/n was just a kid. “That I don’t? That the girls don’t? Even Alexia’s family treat you as their own, Cariño.”

“That’s different,” Y/n said quietly.

“It’s not,” Olga insisted. “I know things haven’t been easy for you… with your parents, with…” she hesitated, “…with Laura. But you’re not alone, Y/n. Maybe your family doesn’t look the way you thought it would, but you have one. And Alexia? She’s part of it — whether you like it or not.”

“She’s just... bad at showing it sometimes,” Olga added. “But if there’s one thing I know, it’s that you’re family to her and that she loved you very much and–”

Olga smiled sweetly. “ And I know that I love you very, very, much.”

Y/n finally turned her head completely to Olga, no longer hiding half of it on the pillow.

“She has a funny way of showing it,” Y/n muttered. “We just…fight all the time.”

“She just... she says stupid things when she’s pissed off,” Olga said, a sad smile on her face. “But if there’s one thing I know, it’s that she’d do anything for you. 

Y/n blinked quickly, trying to fight the stinging in her eyes. “She's annoying, though.”

“Yeah,” Olga chuckled lightly. “She’s Alexia. Being annoying is part of the package–it’s her charm.”

Y/n let out a small, tired smile.

“I’ve already talked to her,” Olga said more seriously. “But if you want, I can give her the same lecture again in front of you.” 

Olga sat close to Y/n, her hands caressing her scalp. Y/n let her do it. It felt good. Comforting.

“I would love that more than anything,” Y/n said teasingly, but Olga knew her and could tell Y/n still wasn’t okay. 

Alexia’s words had stung her– badly.

“Do you want me to go?” Olga asked softly, her finger still running gently through Y/n’s hair. “Or to stay? It’s up to you. Alexia’s sleeping on the couch either way.”

Y/n smiled at Olga.

She thought about saying no, about curling back into her own thoughts and just…trying to get back on track on her own. But decided against it.

“You can stay…if you want to,” Y/n mumbled, changing her gaze from Olga to the mattress. “Only if you don't mind tough.”

“I would love to stay here with you, cariño.” Olga shifted her position so she could get more comfortable, her back against the headboard while Y/n lay by her side, her hands never leaving Y/n’s hair.

It was quiet. Y/n liked quiet–except if it was with a certain Portuguese girl–but here with Olga, it felt comfortable, almost motherly. 

Y/N's breathing slowed, and she felt her eyes heavier and a slight pain behind them. Y/n let herself fall asleep.

She heard Olga saying something, but she couldn’t remember it when she woke up the next day.

..

Notes: taglist on the comments. Let me know if you want to be added and if you don't want to be part of it anymore!

Please like, share and let me know what you think! Feedback is important and makes me want to write even more. :D

MASTERLIST

PART 1

[eviltothecore13]

I am always very glad that my family moved to the place where I grew up partway through my childhood--we explored it, we found the good thngs, and we never lost sight of the idea that it was fun to discover stuff and look into what was going on in the area. Meanwhile people my age who'd been born there and whose parents had lived there all their lives were like "there's nothing here, it's boring, there's no fun things to do, we want to get out as soon as we can"--none of which was true. These people had been taking the same route from their homes to school every day and spending all day in school and the weekends seemingly mostly sitting at home or maybe going to the mall, and had never seen or heard of most of the places I liked in the city even though they'd been there longer!

It helped that I was home-educated and so, without the school schedule or expectation that you had to be sitting in a classroom to be learning, got to pretty much go anywhere whenever I wanted as long as it could be described as "educational". But there's no reason even people who did have a schedule to stick to on weekdays couldn't have gone out at the weekends, looking for interesting things to do, and found all kinds of things: the library--which had all kinds of events on, and a space for things like art exhibitions and makers' markets nearby; bookshops; art galleries, museums; any kind of book-related or art-related event; the annual science festival; cafes and restaurants and street food places (once you start walking down the little side streets that aren't part of the standard routes to and from school/work/the supermarket/whatever your daily routine is, you quickly get away from streets with lots of chains and into much more fun independent places) etc. After all, I now work 9 to 5 on weekdays and I still know when something interesting is going on my area and if it's at a weekend (which many things are) can still go to it. They just...didn't look, and assumed there was nothing to find.

(They also mostly believed there were no jobs or opportunities in the area, but that was more because there hadn't been many *for most of their parents' lives* and so their parents had told them "there's nothing worth staying for here, there's no opportunities, get out of here as soon as you're old enough to move out", but that had changed very quickly in the past 10 years and there were actually all kinds of opportunities.)

I hope that those who did move out did explore the new places they moved to and find good things--sometimes I wonder if people like that end up thinking there's nothing interesting in any place they move to because they never learned how to look (I think too many people expect everything to be along the main high street and think there can't possibly be anything interesting down a side street). Sadly I suspect a lot of them are still in the area and still think it's boring and devoid of anything to do, and the longer they stay there the more they'll become convinced "look, I've lived here all my life, believe me, I know the area, there's nothing interesting here because if there was I'd know about it".

Any travel advice site will tell you to travel like a local, but honestly you should local like a traveller. Go out with wide eyes and curiosity. Visit museums and parks and art galleries, try out the overpriced but highly rated restaurants that only tourists visit, take photos and video, stop to read those heritage information signs, treat yourself to an ice cream on a hot day. Don't let tourists be the only ones who take joy in your home.

[twstwizard]

Hellooo :3c I hope you are doing alright 🌸

I want to make a request, i got a silly idea and i hope you dont mind!

If posible, i would like to request for Riddle, Carter, Azul and Lilia and how they would react when while they were hanging out with their crush (or s/o, however you prefer) reader out of nowhere tells them that last night they had a dream where both were getting married, but like reader is telling them cuz the dreams was so wild, like in the old princess Disney movies everything was so animated, there were floating things everywhere and it was full of color and everyone was dancing (even the furniture)

The wedding bells

Type: Headcanons, SFW, Fluff, Romantic

Characters: Riddle Rosehearts; Cater Diamond; Azul Ashengrotto; Lilia Vanrouge; GN!Reader

AN: I might've gone a bit too sappy, let me know what you think

Riddle Rosehearts

-Riddle is slightly baffled, more so by the thought of you dreaming of a wedding with him as the groom, not how wierd it was. The latter at least makes sense, dreams are intended to be strange, like that one time he dreamt about being a tart. Nonetheless he's touched.

- The young man would be flustered, yet curious. Inanimate objects becoming... Animate? In tales about Queen of Hearts something similar acured on daily basis. Perhaps if the two of you do get married maybe he should try and arrange for the whole ordeal to be heavily based off of one of the Sevens? But that's jumping too fast and too far into the future.

- His mind wonders as you tell and more about your dream, as his face grows redder and redder with blush as you describe any detail involving him as the groom. He's both touched and embarrassed to an extent, yet he's happy that at least in your dream he stayed a proper gentleman.

- Riddle cannot get an image of you by the altar from his head for some time, both of you dressed for the ceremony, staring lovingly into each other's eyes... As he mentally scolds himself for daydreaming amids the day, he can't help but hope that one day that little dream of yours becomes reality for both of you.

Cater Diamond

- Oh?! Do tell him every little detail! Cater is not only happy that he was in your dream, but also was the groom? Oh did the two of you kiss? Did he feed you the cake, did you two dance with the furniture? The young man listens to your dream, exited expression on his face.

- It may be a dream, but now it's a shared dream between the two of you. Cater knows that you might be jumping over your heads with the hypothetical dream wedding of yours, but he doesn't care, he's already invested, trying to prey out as much detail as possible simply to try and envision the whole thing. He might even pull out some kind of Piccrew for rooms and try to recreate the place for giggles with you.

- Cater is also encouraging of your ideas or how dream might've ended or what happened in parts you don't remember no matter how silly or how little they make sense, so long as they make sense to you. He might even throw in his own theories or add even more redicules ideas, to make your dream seem even more whimsical.

- While Cater is obviously joking around, he does find the thought of marrying you a pleasant one. He's jealous even, the man wishes he saw a wedding with you in his dream, but then again, reality is just as pleasant if not better.

Azul Ashengrotto

- What. The man is flattered that he was in your dream, but mainly, what? Azul is a very analytic person in every aspect of his life, even if such aspect involves his significant other's dreams. Que his search history later on containing "Dreams of wedding meaning?"

- He might be a little red in a face or loss at words, but please don't stop, tell him all, the man lives for information. While he won't encourage such silly fantasies, he will entertain a thought of marriage to you. A lot... Maybe dancing and singing furniture is surface dwellers costume? He'll have to research.

-Ashengrotto will now daydream from time to time of a wedding, a life of being married to you, after the two of you graduate. Would the you stay on land? Perhaps you'd like to move to the Coral Sea with him, take up family business even? He might pretend that such silly fantasies don't affect him, but even capatlists aren't immune to love.

- Azul harbors such hopes and dreams, redoubling in his work. If he will be married to you he'll have to outdo your dream, which will involve outdoing alive furniture. The merman is ready for the challenge as long as it involves giving you everything, beyond your dreams.

Lilia Vanrouge

- You don't say... Alive furniture? Was it awkward to use it? Were chairs rioting if you sat in them? Was food also alive? Did he cook it? Then perhaps it was alive if that was the case. Lilia finds anything you say entertaining, your dreams are con exception. The man saw many things in his life, yet others visions during slumber were yet to be places he visits often.

- Before you know it Lilia is already imagining and building theories as to how it would be to live in your dream after that wedding if everything followed the same rules. Must be awkward taking a shower or using a toilet.

- The man wholeheartedly believes it tonbe a sign from someone above. While Vanrouge won't drop down on one knee right that instant, he will remember everything. The suite he was wearing, the cake the two of you ate, how many guests were there etc.

-Lilia is not young, so naturally thoughts of marriage crossed his mind more then once, let alone with his darling. While to you were retelling your silly dream, Vanrouge was imagining the real thing. He can't help it, life with you already feels like a dream come true, what's a wedding?

[kay-great]

Invincible Variants!xReader Imagine

This got WAY longer than I expected it to. I wrote it in a way that wasn’t specific to an individual variant. Reader is referred to as ‘girlfriend’ a lot and has references to their cunt and pussy. M/f Sex scene, consensual but under false terms (reader is dating mark and doesn’t know the variant has swapped him out). Lots of blood mentioned, and reference to character death! (Main character died in different dimension). Also like, facist ideas? Variant thinks those with power deserve to do whatever they want with it.

Enjoy!

———————————————

-reader and OG Mark have been dating since Highschool, but have known eachother since childhood

-you both dreamed of becoming superheros when you grew up, and bonded over childish fantasies of glory and power and adventure and fun!

-you have the ability to control light! Refracting it, bending it into rainbows and high-intensity beams, and simply creating it from yourself. It’s very beautiful, but eventually you had to reconcile that it was not strong enough to fight crime

-this reconciliation happened right around the time that OG Mark got his powers

-at first he tried hiding it from you, but eventually he confided in you, needing your support.

-knowing that he’s living your childhood dreams while you live a civilian life has been really difficult for the relationship, but you guys make it work. Besides, seeing how bloody and bruised he gets- oftentimes you are thankful to be out of the line of fire

-of course, he always comes to you after a fight if he can. And you’ve gotten into the habit of patching him up. Sometimes you tell him to go seek a real doctor, and that you’re not trained enough to stitch him back together, but he insists that his healing abilities render intricate patch-work obsolete. Besides, he says that your soothing hands heal him in more ways than one.

-if all that’s not hard enough, you’re also a Junior in college, and midterm season has been hitting you HARD

-you still have one last big test tomorrow, but the exhaustion of studying for all your other classes has really caught up to you, so you turn off all your electronic distractions, and crash for 16 solid hours

-suddenly you wake up to the distant sound of sirens. Damn- college dorms always have faulty fire alarms. The fire department has probably visited your campus 4 times since the semester started. Your pillow welcomes you as you nuzzle into it- praying it will drown out the distraction.

And it works! The sound is immeadiately muffled as your dorm window closes with a ‘click’.

-your right cheek bunches up against your face as you smile into your pillow. You know that ‘click’ so well- and you have missed your boyfriend.

-the crust in your eyes breaks as you turn to look at your beloved intruder. Strange, it’s dark. They must have pulled the curtains over the window- maybe because they didn’t want to interrupt your sleep? Wow, Mark is the sweetest :)

-Your fingertips gently glow as a delicate sprinkling of warm light floats above you. Mark loves how your powers shimmer to life.

-did you know that your sense of smell is the last thing to wake up? Yes, scent and taste don’t kick in right away. But suddenly you can taste the blood in the air

-and as your gentle light makes its way to the shadowed window, your stomach drops as your boyfriend stands DRENCHED in red, staring at you

-the glowing lights cast strange shadows across the room, and as you leap towards your boyfriend, the lights scatter- throwing their shadows around at lightning speed, disorienting the room in hectic growings and shrinkings.

-but that doesn’t matter right now, your boy NEEDS you right now. Is it all his own blood? God, you hope not! Whats wrong with him? Why is he staring so intently? What’s wrong? What should you do? What should you do? What should you do?

-your finger leaves a clean indent where you caress his blood-ridden cheek. You uncover some of his mask, and somewhere in your subconscious you intake that his mask is different than usual. But your panicked and sleep-torn state doesn’t allow this information to dwell. He’s not moving! Just staring at you! He’s fucking unresponsive- you’ve got bigger problems.

-“Mark?” He notices the tremble in your throat as you choke out his name- oh his name. He hasn’t heard you say it in so long. And now you’re even touching his cheek! Even though it’s all covered in blood. You must really love him, huh? Even though he’s scaring the shit out of you right now. He can tell. His fingers twitch as he thinks to reassure you. He could mark your body with his bloody handprints as he took you in his arms- never letting you go. You’d look pretty like that.

-“Mark?” You repeat. “Are you alright?”

-pleasure crosses his face- you were just the sweetest weren’t you?

“I’m fine now that you’re with me, y/n.” -he luxuriates your name. Like it was a treat to call your name. Like he hasn’t said it in a while. He hasn’t.

“Mark you’re covered in blood!”

-Awwww, you care so much, “Its not mine.”

-This does stand out to you. This is not the first time Mark has come to you like this, but when it’s not his blood, he usually tries to stop from dripping on your carpet. You yelled at him once about the dorm-cleaning fees at the end of the year- and he’s never forgotten. But he’s forgotten now. And he’s talking weird. And he won’t quit staring at you. And the sirens outside don’t really sound like fire alarms. And your instincts tell you that something is wrong.

-And he notices.

-The slightest twitch in your eye, the smallest back step, the tiniest hitch in your breath- and he knows you’re on to him.

-But he knows exactly how to work you. You are the sweetest girlfriend after all. He takes a breath-

“But I needed to know you were alright- the villain I fought, he…” pause for dramatic effect, “…he threatened you. I don’t know how he knew your name but he did. I could never let anything happen to you, you know? And I.. I couldn’t help it I… I mean I had to I…” you look at him frantically, maybe he’s milking it too much “I killed him. Oh GOD! I killed him. Do you think I’m a monster?”

-You gasp, and tear up a little- bingo!

“Oh Mark of course not. You did what you had to do. Oh you could never be a monster, you’re just put under more stress than any person ever should be. Oh I’m so sorry baby, come on- let’s get you cleaned up.” You croon over him. Sticky stains be damned, your arms wrap around his head; and he does not hesitate to pull you flush into him. His arms rub soothingly over your form as his hands find purchase in many bundles of your flesh. He paints you red, and although it spikes your discomfort, you try to work through it- after all, you need to be a supportive girlfriend right now! He’s obviously so vulnerable right now that he can’t even register small things like covering you in blood.

-He can register it. In fact he’s taking pleasure in it. Also he’s not vulnérable, he’s a conniving lovesick psycho who is willing to sacrifice a bit of ego to get you to coddle him. Besides, he’ll regain all his cocky supremacy when you realize his “sad puppy” performance was an act. But until then, he has determined that taking advantage of your sympathy is the most lucrative option. After all, now that he’s got you all dirty, you’re pulling him towards the shower. Just how far can he take this rouse?

-the moldy college shower reminds you of the infamous PSYCHO scene, as the water start to pull the blood from your boyfriend’s being. You are unashamed to be washing him with your honey-scented bar soap. You ARE dating after all. But you think better than to join in; you want to give your poor boy room to process his recent breakdown.

-but apparently he does NOT want space to process. Your eyes blur with water as he pulls your face right under the shower head. He takes advantage of your temporary blindness to remove his suit.

-damn, that’s too bad. You wanted to take a closer look at his suit. But as you fully step into the shower, you are pressed very close to your boyfriend’s incredibly muscular body. And thoughts of clothes quickly melt away.

“Were you going to keep washing me? Or are you busy with something else?” His smirk boils your cheeks as you realize you’ve been caught staring.

-you set out to get all the blood gone. God it smells terrible, but as you uncover more and more of your boyfriend’s muscular body, the less you are able to focus on the blood. Focus on the blood! He has just been through a traumatic experience he does not need to fuck right now! Just focus on the soap. Didn’t he used to have a scar here? Trailing down towards his.. shit is he hard?

-Fuck, it’s disgusting in this fucking shower, but you can’t help the heat pooling between your thighs.

-his eyes are dark.

“You’re doing perfect, y/n, but I think now it’s your turn.”

-oh fuck. Your slick fingers seem to vibrate against his as he takes the soap from your hand. God he’s acting different, but you can’t find it within you to complain.

-since he so uncerimoniously pulled you into the shower, you’ve been in your wet-ass pajamas this whole time. You’ve been grateful to them actually, as they’ve been very helpful in suppressing your arousal. Now, however, as his strong fingers delicately pull as your clothes- you curse them.

God those fingers- fingers that could stop a fucking train, that could catch bullets, and punch buildings- and they were so gentle on your skin. You didn’t know what it was, but somehow it all felt different than it usually did. Your subconscious screamed at you that he was dangerous. That somehow he was different than your usual Mark. Maybe it was the recent battle, but whatever it was, he seemed volatile.

-and yet, coupled with the delicate confidence with which he pulled apart your clothes and groped at what was left- you were intoxicated.

-why couldn’t he be like this all the time?

-and he took full advantage of your intoxication. he soaped up your tits and watched them bounce as he started humping you mercilessly. He didn’t bother to clean off the blood from your neck before sucking at it- seeming to take pleasure in the perverse taste. And his eyes fucking bore into yours- greedy for every pleasured expression he could bribe out of you. And once he had you moaning good and loud for him, he finally leaned in to your ear and whispered-

“I can smell your cunt”

-And with that he pushed in two fingers. And you were reminded just how powerful those fucking fingers were.

-And after he coaxed an orgasm out of you? With that shit-eating grin? He lines himself up to your cunt with all the credence of a hunter putting a knife through an animal they successfully caught. Like he fucking owns you. Like putting his dick in you was his fucking birthright. And he fucks you like that too. Slow and fast and forward and back. He watches your tits bounce until you orgasm, and when you do he flips you over to watch your ass do the same.

-by the time you’re done there is not a trace of blood.

-he carries you back toyour bed bridal style, as you whine that you can’t walk.

-you invite him into bed with you, but he instead just gives you a small forehead kiss, and caresses you again, before he tells you he has to get the blood stains out of his suit first. He goes back into the bathroom, and the sink squeaks as he turns the water on. He doesn’t close the door, but from your view on the bed you cannot see him.

-you decide it’s time to finally open your phone, and you grab it from off your nightstand and turn it back on.

-as soon as the screen lights up, the phone spasms with the bombardment of seemingly hundreds of urgent texts, notifications, alarms, alerts, and missed calls. They all come in in a matter of seconds:

“URGENT: MULTIPLE HIGH-THREATS: SEEK SHELTER IMMEDIATELY”

“INVINCIBLE LOOK-ALIKES HIGHLY DEADLY, AVOID AT ALL COSTS”

Mark💖: “Are you okay?”

“Campus Update: ALL STUDENTS EVACUATE TO TORNADO SHELTERS”

Mark💖: “babe you gotta wake up, if you see an invincible, that’s NOT ME!!

“INVINCIBLE Doppelgängers ATTACKING POPULATED CITIES, EVACUATE CITIES”

13 Missed Calls

Mark💖: “BABE THATS NOT ME”

“AVOID INVINCIBLE AT ALL COSTS”

—

-and the faucet squeaks off.

-and suddenly all you can hear in the whole apartment is the distant sirens and your wild heartbeat

-and Mark strides out of the bathroom

-and his suit is clean, but it’s still not right

-and nothing about him is right

-and it all makes sense now

-but he looks at you- hungry, wild

“Anything on the news?” His voice is poisoned honey.

“What- what do you want with me?”

-And he looks down at your cum-ridden pussy, and you instinctively clamp your thighs together, but it just makes him chuckle a little- god you feel so helpless

“Good question. Today has been a great start for what I have planned for you.”

-And you can’t help the frightened look in your eyes. You always thought you’d be able to stare death in the fucking face, but looking at the eyes of Mark Grayson was too much. He likes the way your eyes sparkled when pin-pricked with the smallest tears. But he wants your compliance, so he offers,

“Hey now, don’t worry. You’re going to love it. Just like how you loved me all of today. You did. I watched you. You let me bloody you just so you could ‘console’ me. You told me I could never be a monster. You washed me. You served me- and got yourself turned on in the process. You let me fuck you any way I wanted. And you loved it. You let me fill you up with cum, and you invited me to your bed afterwards. You knew I wasn’t what you were used to. You knew I wasn’t the right version of myself- you didn’t care. You loved me. And I know you will continue to do so.”

-Like steel. Your body felt like steel. With every word your stomach plummeted further down. Because it was all true, and there was nothing you could do about it. And now you really felt like crying, and he took this vulnerable moment to snare you.

“I lost my y/n. In my dimension. She had the same powers as you- she was weak. But she wanted to be a superhero so badly. She was killed by a common thief. She was protecting some arbitrary civilians.” He started walking towards you, pain on his face- but pain you weren’t sure you could trust.

“If she had just let me protect her- I told her I would. But she was stubborn. She didn’t want to admit that beneath me was her place- that some of us are stronger than others. That I was the strongest of all. Her death made me realize the importance of power. That people who have it must use it. She made me into what I am today. You made me into this.”

-Bile threatened to rise out of your throat. But as he slowly sat down next to you on the edge of the bed, nothing but adoring eyes, you found you couldn’t move at all. Not even when he reached a hand onto your bare fucking hip, rubbing circles into your flesh with his thumb.

“And now I know how to protect you. How to take care of you. I deserve you.”

-Tears spilled freely now, and to your horror he brought his free hand to your face to wipe them away. God he was too fucking close now.

“So I’ll give you a choice. I’m supposed to go back to my own dimension soon. Either you can come with me calmly, or we can stay in this dimension.”

-At that you quirked an eyebrow, the smallest amount.

“Of course, if we stay here, I’ll have to kill this dimension’s invincible so I can take his place. I’ll have to tie you up and use you as bait. He will probably be here within the hour to check on you. Pitiable really. Notice how I have been here protecting you so much sooner than him? Really it’s an upgrade.” His eyes gleamed.

-Fucking hell. Oh god. How are you supposed to choose ?

-You can’t wish death upon your real boyfriend; your best friend for years now. He’s certainly been fighting all the other invincibles- he will be exhausted. And if this fucking sadist in front of you has the element of surprise? Your Mark stands no chance. You can’t do that. And what happens to the rest of the world when your goofy hero with a heart of gold gets replaced with this psycho? You’d be sentencing the whole world to the whims of this monster

But how can you leave your whole life? Your family, your friends- you’ll never get to say goodbye. And instead you’ll be sentenced to servicing this look-alike in front of you. This liar, murderer, fucker who could kill you in a heartbeat. Torture you for not complying. This man who wears the face of your true fucking love. A constant reminder of what you’d lost.

“What will you choose, y/n? Tick Tock.”

—————————————————

Wow this was way fucking longer than expected whoops I hope you enjoyed!! Please interact cuz it’s my favorite thing ever!! 🙏🙏

[archaardvarkarchive]

Hm, yeah. Worth noting, there’s a difference between being turned on by the abstract idea of something (unless OP has actually participated in knifeplay, it is simply not the same as actually experiencing it, let alone being IN this era of Japan where you’ve probably directly witnessed who knows how many people get chopped up, and are seeing that fate dangled in front of you for a split second) that isn’t real, versus being IN that meadow.

This poor guy most likely actually did have something resembling a near-death experience. Cut him a little slack.

Although we’re supposed to believe that modern-style kinks are a thing in this fanciful recounting of history, (was that a thing?) I’m also kind of dubious that that sort of interaction would happen? Like, without the subculture of bdsm behind a person, a safe exploration of all that stuff, would someone spontaneously be into it, or would they just be scared shitless?

And this analysis of Mizu is something that a lot of the commenters could stand to read.

@luckypuppyshake @are-you-reddie @gideongaye @cornichonmord @cocaine-pizza @mars2cupid @hyperewok1 @catra-taj @raeyhem

I don’t know if ‘objectification’ necessarily fits here, but seeing just the external badassery and not thinking about what’s going on inside her head …

EDIT: let’s call it pseudo-objectification, because it’s not like you’re devaluing her internal experience, it’s just you’re perceiving her as a desirable goal.

So in the strictest sense, could be about the physical, sure, but it’s not what the term objectification is going for or getting at.

If my wife handed me my ass in combat and then kissed me after pointing a katana at my throat, I would recognize the gesture as the peak of romance it is and would fall even more in love with her. Rip to that guy Mizu married for like a year but I'm different.

[wonderjanga]

What if, like, one day Billy's hit with a spell as marvel and the gods suddenly spilt from his mind in front of the league? And then he drops something like "wow it's so quiet in my head!" While the league stands baffled by the literal gods in front of them

Marvel: “Wow! It’s so quiet in my head!” *immediately goes back to fighting with someone with a big ahh smile on his face*

With Zeus…

JL: *still stunned*

Zeus: “DAUGHTER!” *bear hugs Diana*

Wondy: “Father??” *confused, but hugs back*

Zeus: “Oh, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to tell you how proud I am of you!”

With Solomon…

Solomon: *walks over to Bruce*

Batman: *confused as to why this old man who appeared from nowhere came up to him*

Solomon: *puts a hand on his shoulder* “Young Bruce, I can call you that, yes?”

Batman: *alarmed* “Excuse me—”

Solomon: “I’ve always wanted to tell you that out of everyone here besides the Captain you are by far my most favorite.”

Batman: “…thank you?”

Solomon: “Granted, your costume is atrocious and your gadgets could use some upgrading, but you are the only sane and rational person here. I commend you for that.”

Batman: *both insulted and confused*

Bruce was confused because last he checked, his gadgets were top-of-the-line, he’s not even gonna comment on the costume thing, and as for being the only sane and rational person here? Well, that was true.

Solomon: *pats his shoulder* “Good talk.” *looks over to Billy* “Billy, I will be going to the nearest tapas place. We will reconvene at the rock.” *walks off*

With Mercury…

Mercury: “Speedster!” *zooms over*

Flash: “I— uh yes?”

Mercury: “You!” *points to him* “Me!” *points to himself* “Race! Now!”

Flash: “WHA—”

Mercury: *zooms over and drags him away*

Flash: *screams fading as they get farther and farther*

With Hercules…

Hercules and Hawkgirl: *looking at each other*

Hercules: *nods head* “Mace? Respect.”

Hawkgirl; “Club?” *also nodding* “Respect.”

Hercules and Hawkgirl: *join the battle so they can clobber the villain together*

With Atlas…

Atlas: “Hey, do you know where the nearest hotel is?”

GL: “No?”

Atlas: “What about motel?”

GL: “I think there’s one down the block?”

Atlas: “Thank you.” *starts to walk off*

GL: “Wait! Where are you going??”

Atlas: “To find a place to sleep. It’s extremely rare that I get breaks.”

GL: “Are you— Are you even supposed to leave??”

Atlas: “Probably not, but you heard the old man. We’ll reconvene at the rock.” *walks off to find the motel*

With Achilles…

Achilles and Aquaman: *share a look*

Achilles: “Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Atlantean?”

Aquaman: “First off, how did you know it was Atlantean? Second, heck yes!”

Achilles and Aquaman: *team up to do a superduper, cool, bro move that somehow fuses the spear and triton for like three seconds and jump in to attack*

Achilles and Aquaman were the ones who finished the fight that day, landing the finishing blow on the villain. Also, unfortunately, for Solomon and Atlas neither made it to their tapas place nor motel because as soon as the villain was defeated all the gods and/or legends went right back into Billy’s mind.

[siolixz]

'*•.¸♡ FATHER FIGURE ♡¸.•*'

Being Lucy's sister came with a lot of perks: good food, nice places to stay at- a rich handsome multimillionaire falling madly in love with you. Did I mention the rich handsome multimillioanire?

pairing: harry castillo x reader (Lucy's sister)

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

context: just fluff and romcom scenarios, older man x younger woman, everyone is over 18 and fully consenting; words: 3k I hope you will enjoy and pls tell me if you like it or tell me if you don't- I will probably write a part 2 with smut if it is well received. ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡ I will probably write the smut anyways tho loll Yes i have put a George Michael song name as the title put me in jail or whatever. Also I have no idea if his name is Randy or Harry so oh well, who cares hes so sexy.

It was a beautiful day in New York that welcomed you right back here in this city, looking across the cafe for your Lucy. 

You slept in today, after a long plane ride and a longer ride to your sister's apartment you had to get your rest for the days ahead- and for the wedding. Because of spring break and because she received a plus one invitation to one of her glorious matchmaking results- her ninth to be more precise, you just had to join her in New York for the week ahead. You didn’t have anything else better to do, plus, you missed her. 

She smiled at your sleepy face as you sat down in front of her.

As the coffee arrived you finally had some time to catch up on life, on your school and on her job. More importantly, how could John ever break up with her? She’s successful, she's beautiful and she’s brilliant. You told her that you were hoping she could finally get a guy who actually deserves her.

“I hope your wedding will be the tenth-” you started.

“Maybe it will be yours princess, did you think of that?” She smirked at you, clearly enjoying the banter you two were so used to having. 

“So that’s why you called me here- to set me up with someone?” you leaned across the table “Because I’m taking the first plane back to college if that's the case.”  There’s nothing more embarrassing than your own sister setting you up, I mean you could get a date if you tried but the boys back at school are, lacking.. certain qualities you were hoping for in a man.

She laughed at your expression, knowing you were being sarcastic and joking but also not really.  You could hardly hear each other anymore as more people came into the cafe.

She grabbed the hand you had on the table as she said: “You’ve grown so much- I’m so happy you're here with me.”

All day long you walked across New York City, first it was dress shopping- you probably tried on like 10 dresses before picking a gorgeous green floor length dress and your sister a blue dress. She covered everything like the great older sister she is and on you went towards Sephora to get everything you might need or just plain wanted- perks of having an older sister with money- and then it was take out time back home; feet sore and exhausted. You loved and hated being in this city, but you could clearly see why Lucy wanted to live here. So many people, so many stories to tell. You two took a nap and then by late afternoon you were out again for dinner with some of her friends and then for a walk in central park. 

“You know, I think tomorrow is going to be really special.” she linked your arms together as you passed people. 

“Really?” you turned the upper part of your body towards your sister as you walked. “In what way may I ask?”

“Like in a good way; maybe you’ll meet someone.” she whispered the last part “Or maybe in a bad way.” She turned away from you like she was thinking.  “Last time we were at a wedding together, you were very little- remember you got that stomach bug-”

“Ugh don’t remind me Lucy” you grimaced at her macabre reminiscing while she laughed in your face “We just ate-” 

The wedding was truly beautiful, the bride and groom looked great together and the food was completely out of this world. The groom was a finance guy, so it made sense that the wedding would be held in a grandiose style, I mean they had a chocolate fountain for god sake. And free gifts for people- free gifts!

You and Lucy talked with some people, ate some food from the candy bar while gossiping and danced a little bit but you had to take a break as ‘Cupid’ herself was socializing with acquaintances. You texted some of your friends, one from childhood and two from college- all ecstatic about the amazing things there. You had to remember to get Maddy a necklace as her birthday was coming up and Mark asked if you could get him a lucky cat doll and also-

“Is this seat taken?” 

You looked up at the owner of the voice, “Um, no- no it’s not.”

Um, yes it was, your sister was seated there- who even is this?

The stranger sat on the chair, turned his whole body to look at you and placed his hand under his head- like he was engaged in the most passionate discussion. 

From this position you could finally see the man up close- this must be the groom's best friend. Your sister told you as you sat down during the ceremony, even if you were seated far away, you could remember him now. He was right next to the groom.

“I’m sorry to interrupt you-”

“No, it’s okay-” Now you’re interrupting him, please stop.

He smiled at you, endeared by your attempt at alienating his worries. His smile reached his eyes and the corners wrinkled, like a testament of this strange man’s seasoned life. He looked at you in an almost parental fashion like he already knew you- wait, do you know him? 

Your sister has a bunch of friends and acquaintances around New York, maybe you did know him. “Do we know each other?” 

“No, I don’t believe we have met.” 

He had this air about him, like he was so comfortable and sure of himself. He smiled again at you, like he knew something you did not, was there something on your teeth?

“My name is Harry, it’s nice to meet you, miss…” You told him your name and he repeated it. 

Why was your heart beating so fast? Maybe because he was very, very handsome. 

“Would you like a drink?” he said your name again and you forgot all about the phone buzzing in your hand.

“Um..”

You looked across the ornate ballroom for your sister for a second.

“Wait, you’re old enough to drink, right?” His smile faltered for a second but he quickly regained it as you reassured him that you were indeed, old enough to drink. 

He ordered a cosmopolitan for you and an old fashioned for him and while you chatted, he asked about what you were doing in New York and how you knew the bride and the groom.

“You’re the matchmaker’s sister.” he pointed at you and you teared your gaze away from his beautiful brown eyes to notice the green ring on his finger. 

“I am.”

He must’ve noticed you looking at it as he too, looked at it- then at you and remarked:

“Green is my favorite color.”

This handsome man was clearly hitting on you, but why? You haven’t chatted with anyone this evening besides your sister and some basic chit-chat with the bride. He must’ve singled you out of the crowd as only a man with experience could have probably. Well it wasn’t going to end how he hoped, with you in his bed and him never calling you again. You weren’t born yesterday nor were you that desperate, no matter how handsome he was nor how tall and big he was compared to you-

No, you’re not going anywhere with him, you’re here for and with your sister. Speaking of which-

“I see you’ve made some friends.” She smiled as she came closer and introduced herself to Harry. Harry. What a beautiful name. 

As he turned his head towards her you looked at the curls he had at the base of his neck and thought you could never look at someone more handsome- his face looked like it was sculpted!

She made some polite conversation and It wasn’t long before she had to excuse you two in order to introduce you to some people there.

So in about 2 minutes- you said your goodbye’s and you left him there, silently hoping that maybe he could call out your name as you walked away or run after you and tell you he is madly in love with you ‘please don’t go’ - you audibly giggled next to your sister as you walked away, amused entirely by your schoolgirl-like-dreams as she gave you an odd look.

It was the cosmopolitan’s fault, you were sure.

As the night wore on you tried to see him again but to no avail; he must’ve left with some pretty model or gorgeous woman- the thought left an emptiness in your stomach you couldn’t shake for the whole night.

You were woken up by the sunrays on your face and by an immense amount of thirst that left your throat feeling like you scratched it all night long. You grabbed your phone instinctively and after about 30 minutes of coming back to life you finally got up.

As you entered the living room you saw your older sister on the phone and gave her a small wave.

She nodded her head at you as you walked into the kitchen to grab some ice cold water. 

Why was everything so hot in this apartment? 

After she finished her phone call you could finally debrief with her about last night's events, the most important of those things was definitely her meeting up with John again.

“Life just finds a way I guess.” you told her as she grabbed a coke from the fridge.

“Yeah, I guess.” She opened the can, took a sip and said “By the way, I have a surprise for you.”

“Yeah, what?” You couldn’t deny the way your heart jumped a little bit- maybe a bit more.

“I have a date for you.”

“Lucy, no..” you groaned. Was it with him? God let it be him.

“Hear me out, ok? I have to be at a girlfriend's house this evening and I want you to go, I would hate for you to be inside while I go have fun- plus you don’t have to go on a second date or anything, this is just for fun- no expectations, ok?” She pleaded with her eyes at you.

“I can’t say anything about this guy, but you have a lot in common, he is also a student like you- maybe you can bond over that.”

The day dragged on until 5pm when you had to get ready, you were hoping this guy wasn’t some snob or insufferable, but you trusted your sister. A short red dress and heels would suffice, as you were going to quite a fancy restaurant on the upper east side. When you arrived you said your name to the waiter and sat down at one of the beautiful velvet booths and ordered a glass of water for yourself. Being alone in a place as fancy as this, you did feel quite out of place a little bit.

On to wait for that guy to show up, even though you arrived on time.

Traffic in New York is horrible, so maybe he is fashionably late. 

He was not fashionably late as 45 minutes had passed and you were still alone, you could see people glance at you between the sounds of silverware- pitying you.

Or maybe no one cared, it was hard to tell- especially because you were so embarrassed. 

Your fingers itched for your phone, to text Lucy a 'I told you so'. Netflix and pajamas sounded infinitely better than this empty booth and the pitying glances. God you wish you were home right now, not dressed so fancy and looking so good only to be stood up.

The waiter came back, probably to ask you if anyone is coming. 

No, no one is coming.

“Is this seat taken?”

You looked up in bewilderment and met the gorgeous brown eyes of last night's enamourment. Harry was looking down at you, an amused look in his eyes and a smile on his lips.

“Hey!” you exclaimed, almost too loud in this fancy setting. “No, no it’s not.” Your heart started beating fast as he sat down in front of you, he looked even more handsome in the dimmed yellow lights of this restaurant.

He took off his dress jacket and placed it on the chair, you couldn't help but stare at the way his big arms looked, he was a very big man, so handsome too-

“I was having a meeting with my business partner and I looked across the room and there you were. “ He smiled at you like he did last night.

You were happy to see him, very happy.

“What are you doing here, Cinderella?” 

“I was waiting for someone, some guy my sister set me up with- he didn’t show up.” You leaned across the table so only he could hear what you said, not the old couple next to you two as well. 

“What an idiot.” He leaned close to you as well and you could smell his cologne “Well it’s good I am here now, right? We can carry on last night's conversation.” 

As you two ordered food, he asked you what you were studying. 

“Psychology. I have a scholarship.” 

“So you’re beautiful and smart.” He placed the napkin he received across his lap and you felt your ears get warm- you hoped the lights in this restaurant would dim the blush on your face as well. “Do you like what you are studying?” 

“Yes I do. I truly want to start my own clinic back home and help people.” You must’ve talked for like some full minutes about your degree and dreams while he asked you questions. He seemed genuinely interested in what you were saying, like he wanted to learn as much as he could about you.

He told you he would like to be your first pacient when you do become a psychologist and you laughed.

Harry was a funny man, very charming as well, though he had a way of turning a phrase to escape any sort of mention towards his private life, you wondered why that is.��

“Can I ask you a question?” you played with the short hem of your dress under the table. 

“Of course, anything you want.” He took a sip of his drink as he looked at you. His hands looked so big around the glass.

“I don’t mean to sound rude, but may I ask how old you are?” you could find in his eyes a touch of mischief, like he was thinking of something funny to say so he could see you smile.

“24.” he said. With the most monotone voice he could muster and with a straight face.

“24?” you asked, knowing he was messing around with you but deciding to play into his game. 

“Yes, I lived a rough couple of years as you can see. What’s so funny?” he asked you, faking being angry at your smiling face.

“Nothing.” you tried to hide your smile.

“You better not be laughing at my life story.”

“I’m really not.” you put on your serious face.

A man came by your table as the waiter started bringing dessert, and Harry got up to greet him, the man shook Harry’s hand and thanked him, before he left he gave you a polite smile and a ‘good night’ to both of you as he exited the restaurant with his wife or girlfriend. 

“Old friend.” Harry said as he sat back down again “He just bought an apartment complex.”

“Wow, he must be rich.” 

“Very rich indeed.” he took the spoon from next to the plate and cut through the lava cake he was brought. “Like this chocolate.”

 “I wanted to ask you if you wanted to dance with me yesterday” He looked at you again and you wanted to die inside when you remembered that you left him.  "You missed out," he teased, a smirk playing on his lips. "I'm quite the dancer."

"Oh, really?" you challenged, raising an eyebrow. 

"Don’t worry. I'm a fast learner. I won’t let you get away twice"

"Is that a threat?" you asked.

"A promise," he corrected you as he took a bite of the dessert.

Harry asked for your number by the end of the night and you gave it to him, of course you did.

As he told the waiter that he should put the dinner on his tab you protested, but he would have none of it. He said that this was the most fun he had in a while as he got up and watched you exit the booth. 

“Let me take you home-” He started as he let you walk ahead of him; you tried to ignore the way he looked at you; like he was still hungry.

“You shouldn’t worry about me, I’ll call an uber.” He helped you put on your jacket before he opened the door for you.

A soft breeze danced around the streets of the city at this late hour- you hugged your jacket closer to you. You didn’t want your meeting to end, but it had to. 

“Nonsense, let me take you home, c’mon.” He climbed the steps before you and turned around so your eyes could meet at the same level. His dark hair, with its natural waves, framed his face and the silver streak in his hair reminded you of something- he was so handsome, how was he so handsome? He smelled great too.

You smiled at him, maybe the drink you had inside made you this courageous. 

“You never told me how old you are.” Everyone passing by you two must think you were drunk by the way you were smiling at each other. He grabbed your hands in his much bigger ones and pressed them close together, like one might do to a child to make them listen- butterflies danced across your stomach again because of the sudden intimacy.

Harry’s smile faltered slightly and he adopted a more serious expression before lowering his voice and telling you: “I’m 49 years old.”

His deep brown eyes searched your face, like wanting to remember it before you start showing any signs of discomfort. 

You wanted to say something, before he interrupted you “If you are uncomfortable, I promise, I’ll take you home and I’ll never say-”

“And If I am not?” you spoke over him. 

His eyebrows relaxed back on his face as relief washed over his expression and a smile slowly started spreading across his lips. His eyes twinkled under the light above you two from the entrance of the restaurant and he looked at you like he wanted to kiss you.

“I’ll take you home then.”

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Authors note: I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this for you and for me. I hope you have a great day and wish u de best.

If you are one of my long time followers, I just wanna say im sorry that I havent written anything in quite a while, but life got in the way and I just couldn't find any inspiration to give you something actually good. But I am back now! And to stay for good this time unless stated otherwise. ILY

[sunshinesfreckless]

Every Girl Gets Her Wish

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

Pairing: Hyunlix x Fem!Reader

Summary: Just Felix being unable to say no to his girlfriend.

Warnings: Phew…. Double Penetration, Lots of Sex, we also got a bit of Dick on Dick action thanks to Hyunjin and Felix, a little bit of Breeding kink…. yk a little bit of this a little bit of that….Minors DNI

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

Felix had never really thought of himself as a voyeur, but maybe he was. Or maybe it was just Y/N. Maybe it was just Hyunjin.

Whenever he took his girlfriend, fucked her good, he wanted people to know. His boys, especially. Maybe it was ego, maybe it was something else, but he liked it when they heard. When they knew how she moaned, how she came apart under him. And maybe—just maybe—he liked the idea of one of them stepping in.

Hyunjin, especially.

────୨ৎ────

It started as a passing thought, just a flicker in his brain during late-night practices when he was too tired to think straight. The way Hyunjin’s lips always looked plush and wet, the way his fingers were long and delicate, the way he looked at Y/N sometimes—too fast to be caught, but Felix saw. He always saw.

Then, the night in the dorm kitchen happened.

Felix should’ve pulled away when Hyunjin walked in, should’ve at least covered her up. But he didn’t. Instead, his grip on her thighs tightened, lifting her slightly, angling her just right. He wanted Hyunjin to see. See the way Y/N took him so well, see how her body responded, how she moaned into the marble countertop, breathless and needy. And Hyunjin—he didn’t leave. He didn’t say a word. He just stared, mesmerized, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

Felix had fucked her harder after that.

Now, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Couldn’t stop picturing what would’ve happened if Hyunjin had stepped closer. If he had bent down, taken one of Y/N’s nipples into his mouth, let her whimper against his tongue. If he had traced his fingers over her stomach, lower, lower, until—

Felix exhaled sharply.

Beside him, Y/N shifted. Then, she turned to him, eyes heavy with something unreadable. Felix set his phone down as she leaned in, her voice quiet but certain.

“I want to have sex with Hyunjin.”

His heart slammed against his ribs.

Fuck.

────୨ৎ────

Felix didn’t hesitate. He never did when it came to Y/N. His princess got what she wanted—always. And if she wanted Hyunjin, then that was exactly what she was going to get.

He had to be smart about it, though. Had to make sure Hyunjin knew this wasn’t some weird setup, wasn’t some test of loyalty. He could already imagine the way Hyunjin would furrow his brows, lips pressing into a tight line, searching Felix’s face for any sign of a trap.

“You’re serious?” Hyunjin had asked when Felix finally brought it up, voice low, careful.

Felix just smiled. “She wants you.”

Hyunjin scoffed, crossing his arms. “And you’re just… okay with that?”

Felix leaned in, his voice dropping. “More than okay.”

The disbelief lingered in Hyunjin’s eyes, but Felix saw the way his throat bobbed, the way his fingers twitched, restless. He was thinking about it. That was enough for now.

────୨ৎ────

So Felix set it up.

Y/N deserved more than some awkward, hesitant arrangement. She deserved to be wanted, to be cherished, to feel like the center of the universe. So he made sure everything was perfect—her favorite lingerie, soft lighting, the scent of vanilla lingering in the air. And then, he sent Hyunjin a simple text:

“Come to your room.”

Hyunjin walked in first, shoulders tense, still half-expecting some kind of joke. But when he saw her, all that skepticism melted away.

She was waiting for them, sprawled across his bed like she belonged there, wrapped in delicate lace, smiling so brightly it made his chest ache. Like she was the happiest girl in the world. Because Felix had given her exactly what she wanted.

Hyunjin turned his head slightly, eyes flickering to Felix.

Felix just grinned.

“Go on,” he murmured. “She’s waiting for you.”

And fuck, if that didn’t make Hyunjin’s knees weak.

Hyunjin swallowed hard, gaze flickering between Y/N—laid out so perfectly for them—and Felix, who stood beside him, entirely at ease.

“Come here,” Felix murmured, voice smooth, knowing. He stepped forward first, crawling onto the bed like he’d done a thousand times before, settling between Y/N’s legs. His hand ran up her thigh, slow, possessive, before he turned back to Hyunjin, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. “Let me show you what she likes.”

Y/N let out a quiet sigh as Felix’s fingers trailed over her stomach, his touch light enough to make her shiver. “She likes it when you take your time,” he continued, voice dropping lower. His fingers brushed over the lace covering her, making her hips twitch. “She likes being touched like this first—gentle, teasing. Gets her desperate for more.”

Hyunjin exhaled sharply, but he listened. He sat on the edge of the bed, watching Felix’s hands, watching Y/N’s reactions, her breath hitching, her lips parting just so.

Felix glanced at Hyunjin, eyes dark with something unreadable. Then, he reached out, grabbed Hyunjin’s wrist, and guided his hand over Y/N’s thigh. “Feel how warm she is?” Felix murmured. “She’s been waiting for you, too.”

Y/N whimpered, pressing into their touch, and Hyunjin felt like he was drowning.

Felix’s voice was right by his ear when he spoke again. “Kiss her,” he whispered. “She’s so pretty when she gets kissed.”

Hyunjin hesitated for half a second before leaning in, brushing his lips against Y/N’s. She melted into him immediately, fingers threading into his hair, pulling him closer. He could taste the sweetness of her lip gloss, feel the soft hum she let out against his mouth.

And then, just as Hyunjin was getting lost in her, Felix’s fingers tilted his chin.

Hyunjin barely had time to process it before Felix kissed him.

It was slow, deliberate, a test—but also not. Felix kissed like he did everything else, confident and easy, like he already knew Hyunjin would kiss him back.

And fuck—he did.

The air in the room shifted, heavier now, hotter. Y/N whimpered between them, watching with wide, eager eyes as Felix pulled back just enough to smirk.

“See?” he murmured. “Told you this is what she wanted.”

And maybe—just maybe—it was what Felix wanted too.

Felix didn’t stop.

Hyunjin was still catching his breath from that kiss, lips tingling, head spinning, but Felix was already moving. His hands ghosted over the hem of Hyunjin’s shirt, fingers brushing bare skin as he pulled it up and off. Hyunjin let him. Let Felix undress him, piece by piece, watching as Felix’s own shirt hit the floor next.

Y/N lay between them, eyes glazed with want, her hands skimming over their bodies, exploring.

Then, Felix’s hands were back on her, tracing the straps of her lingerie, playing with the delicate lace before sliding it down, baring her inch by inch. “Perfect,” he murmured, voice thick with admiration.

Hyunjin swallowed hard.

Felix noticed.

His smirk was slow, knowing. He tilted his head slightly, voice low, taunting. “You want to touch her?”

Hyunjin exhaled, shaky and uneven. His gaze flickered to Y/N’s, searching for permission—for confirmation that this wasn’t just Felix testing him.

She met his eyes, and for a second, she was so soft. So willing.

Then, without hesitation, her fingers wrapped around his wrist, delicate but firm, guiding him exactly where she wanted.

The first brush of his fingers against her made her gasp.

Her thighs twitched, back arching slightly, hips pressing closer to him on instinct. Warm. So fucking warm. Hyunjin swallowed hard, his breath coming out in a shudder as he watched his fingers disappear inside her.

Felix sat back, a quiet curse slipping from his lips. He was watching everything, chest rising and falling in short, uneven exhales, his pupils so blown they were nearly black.

Hyunjin worked her open, pushing deeper, curling his fingers just right.

Y/N moaned.

She spread her legs wider, giving them both a perfect view. And then, slowly, deliberately, she reached down with her free hand—using her own fingers to spread her pussy lips even more.

Hyunjin choked on air.

Felix nearly groaned.

“See how tight her pussy is?” Felix murmured, voice low and wrecked.

Hyunjin’s breathing stuttered. His fingers flexed inside her. His eyes flicked up to Felix, something dark and unreadable swirling in them.

“You kept that all for yourself?”

Felix chuckled, running a hand through his hair. His smirk widened, lazy and dangerous.

“Not anymore,” he murmured, shifting closer. His voice was a husky promise.

We stretch her out today.

Their smiles matched.

But Y/N—Y/N smiled the most.

Oh, this was heaven.

Hyunjin wasn’t hesitant anymore.

The second he had Y/N trembling under his fingers, once he saw the way Felix devoured every little reaction, something inside him snapped.

His grip tightened on her thigh. His other hand fisted the sheets beside her head. He wanted more.

Y/N let out a soft, surprised gasp as Hyunjin pushed her back onto the bed, his body hovering over hers. His eyes were wild, pupils dark, jaw clenched tight.

He wanted to ruin her.

Felix leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. “Let him, princess.”

And she did.

Hyunjin spread her wide, lining himself up, the head of his cock nudging against her entrance. His grip on her thigh was firm, holding her still, keeping her open as he eased inside, stretching her inch by inch.

Her lips parted in a soundless moan.

Felix’s breathing hitched. His fingers flexed against his thighs.

Hyunjin let out a slow, shaking breath, his head dropping to her shoulder as her tight heat swallowed him whole. His jaw tightened, a deep groan breaking from his throat.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice wrecked, already breathless. “You feel so fucking good.”

Felix’s cock twitched painfully at the sight.

And then Hyunjin moved.

Deep. Slow. Deliberate.

A steady, claiming rhythm.

Y/N gasped, her back arching off the bed, nails dragging down Hyunjin’s arms. Her tiny, helpless whimpers filled the room, mixing with the slick sounds of her soaked pussy taking him so easily.

Felix couldn’t fucking look away.

The way Hyunjin fucked her, the way Y/N arched into it, the way her pretty little moans grew louder with every thrust—

He was gone.

“Felix,” Y/N moaned, reaching out blindly, her body shuddering between them. Desperate. Needy for her Boyfriend.

Hyunjin’s gaze flickered up, something dark and knowing swirling in his eyes. He saw it too—the way she ached for more.

“Come here,” he murmured, his voice low, husky. “She wants you.”

Felix didn’t let them ask twice.

He was on the bed in seconds, his hand sliding over her heated skin, feeling her tremble beneath his touch. His lips crashed into hers, swallowing her soft, breathy whimpers, his tongue teasing hers—hot, slick, claiming. She tasted so fucking sweet, so wrecked already, but he wanted more.

And then Hyunjin.

Felix barely had a moment to breathe before their eyes met again, their lips only a whisper apart. He could feel Hyunjin’s breath—warm, uneven —ghosting against his mouth, and suddenly, he wasn’t thinking anymore.

He just took.

Their lips collided again—this time with no hesitation, no second-guessing, no restraint.

It was Filthy.

Their tongues tangled, the kiss messy, deep, hungry, like they had been waiting for this just as much as Y/N had. Felix groaned into it, his fingers sliding lower, palming Hyunjins balls through his thrusts, feeling the way his cock buried deep inside her, the way he filled her so perfectly.

Hyunjin moaned into his mouth, the sound low and wrecked. His hips stuttered, but he didn’t stop. If anything, he fucked Y/N even harder.

Rough. Deep.

Felix felt every thrust, felt the heat radiating from them both, the damp sweat clinging to their skin. He pulled back, panting, watching the way Hyunjin’s cock disappeared into Y/N’s tight, wet pussy, the way she arched into every movement, the way her lips trembled, her eyes fluttering shut as pleasure consumed her.

She loved this. She fucking loved this.

And then Hyunjin flipped her over, pressing her down onto the bed.

Positioning her just right.

“Open your mouth for Felix,” Hyunjin murmured against her ear, his breath hot, his fingers gripping her jaw—not too rough, but just enough to make her shiver.

Y/N obeyed immediately.

Lips parting. Tongue flicking out. Eyes pleading.

Felix’s cock twitched at the sight.

“Fuck,” he muttered, a deep, low growl, his fingers threading into her hair, gripping it just tight enough to make her gasp.

Hyunjin smirked behind her, one hand sliding down the curve of her back, spreading her open, watching her drip for them.

Felix exhaled shakily. “That’s my girl,” he whispered. Rough. Possessive.

And then Hyunjin thrust into her from behind, slow and deep, while Felix slipped between her lips, groaning the second the heat of her mouth wrapped around him.

They moved in sync.

Hyunjin’s thrusts rocked her forward, forcing her to take Felix deeper, her throat tightening around him as she let out a strangled moan. Felix’s fingers flexed in her hair, his head dropping back for a moment, a breathless curse spilling from his lips.

She was so Helpless. Overwhelmed. So completely theirs.

And Felix had never fucking loved anything more.

Hyunjin met his gaze over her shoulder, his smirk all mischief.

“Wanna stretch her out more?”

Felix swore under his breath, his grip tightening.

Hyunjin smirked wider. Their hands met in a quick high-five, both of them already so fucking gone, before Felix pulled away, letting Y/N catch her breath.

But she didn’t want a break.

She whimpered at the loss, soaking the sheets beneath her, shifting, needy, desperate.

Hyunjin chuckled darkly.

“Oh, baby,” he murmured, rubbing slow, teasing circles against her overstimulated clit. “You still want more?”

Y/N could barely speak, barely think—all she could do was nod.

Felix exhaled hard, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. “She’s not done until we say she’s done.”

Hyunjin’s grip on her hips tightened. “Exactly.”

Felix moved her again, effortlessly flipping her onto her back, lifting her into his lap like she weighed nothing.

Her breath hitched, completely at his mercy.

“Hi, baby,” he whispered, his voice like velvet, fingers trailing down her spine, teasing, possessive.

She smiled, still breathless, her heart pounding in her chest. “Hi, sunshine.”

Felix tucked a damp strand of hair behind her ear, his eyes drinking in her flushed skin, her kiss-bruised lips, the dazed, blissed-out look in her gaze.

God, she was so fucking beautiful like this.

“Enjoying yourself?” he murmured, lips ghosting over her cheek, his voice a slow, delicious tease.

She nodded, a soft, desperate sound escaping her lips, her thighs squeezing around his hips.

Felix smirked.

“You know I always give you what you want,” he murmured, lining himself up with her, teasing the head of his cock against her soaked, aching entrance.

“Just ask for it. You know how much i love Spoiling you”

Felix pushed inside her, slow and deliberate, groaning at the way she squeezed around him, her nails digging into his shoulders.

Before she could even adjust—Hyunjin.

His hands found her waist, warm, firm, grounding.

His body pressed against her back, his breath hot against her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

“Breathe, baby,” Felix whispered, his lips brushing against her temple.

And then—

Hyunjin pushed in.

Right beside him.

The stretch was unreal.

Y/N’s head fell back, a strangled moan spilling from her lips as Hyunjin eased inside, the two of them filling her so completely she could barely breathe.

Felix let out a shaky exhale, his forehead dropping to her shoulder as Hyunjin groaned, gripping her hips tighter, his fingers leaving bruises.

The way her walls squeezed them both, the wet heat surrounding them, the perfect, sinful tightness—it was almost too much.

“How do you feel, baby?” Felix asked, voice gentle, breathless, wrecked.

“Is it okay?”

Behind her, Hyunjin pressed soft, teasing kisses along her jaw, his lips barely there, his hand slipping up to cradle her throat.

Her breath hitched, her body shivering, stretched so perfectly between them.

Felix’s fingers found her clit, circling slow, deliberate, coaxing, guiding her into pure, blissful surrender.

“It’s so good,” she whispered, voice trembling. So full. So overwhelmed. So desperate for more.

Hyunjin’s gaze met Felix’s over her shoulder.

Felix smirked.

Hyunjin mirrored it.

“You take two cocks so well,” Hyunjin murmured into her ear, voice smooth, thick with admiration and lust.

A shiver ran through her.

She arched back against him, pressing into the hard, muscled tones of his chest.

His arms tightened around her, securing her, owning her, holding her in place as they both pulsed deep inside her.

And then—his lips were on hers.

Plush. Warm. Needy.

A kiss that sent her spinning.

Felix took his time with her breasts, rolling her sensitive nipples between his fingers, his lips tracing over her throat, worshipping every inch of her.

They stayed buried inside her, letting her adjust.

But she was ready for more.

And they knew it.

When they started moving, Y/N swore she was on cloud nine.

The stretch—blissful torture.

A deep, delicious burn that made every thrust more intense, made her head spin, made her body tremble.

She was so fucking full.

Two thick, hard cocks, moving inside her, claiming her, fucking her open.

Hyunjin moaned, low, wrecked, ruined at the way she clenched around them.

Felix cursed under his breath, gripping her hips tighter, pulling her down onto them both, forcing her to take every inch.

The friction was filthy.

She could feel them, not just inside her but against each other, their cocks rubbing eachother, sending electric shocks of pleasure through all of them.

Hyunjin’s breath hitched, his hips stuttering slightly. “Fucking hell,” he groaned, voice thick with pleasure.

Y/N’s nails dug into one of their arms—she didn’t even know whose.

Felix’s voice was in her ear, soft, breathless, hypnotic.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her skin. “Taking both of us like a perfect little slut.”

“God, you feel so fucking good.”

“So tight for us, princess. You’re dripping.”

And then, Felix grabbed Hyunjin by the back of the neck and pulled him in for a kiss over her shoulder. Messy, desperate. Tongues sliding together, Felix sucking on Hyunjin’s bottom lip like he was starved for it.

“The way your dick presses against mine is so fucking hot, Jinnie,” Felix groaned.

Hyunjin chuckled darkly, breathless. “Mhm… and this is the best pussy I’ve ever had. You’re a really good friend, Lix.”

Felix let out a breathless laugh—until Y/N shifted between them, so needy.

“Oh, look at her,” Felix cooed, a teasing edge to his voice. “We’re not giving her enough attention.”

“Sorry, princess,” Hyunjin smirked.

Their hips snapped forward in sync, harder, deeper, filling her over and over until she was nothing but moans and trembling limbs. Their hands and mouths were everywhere—hot lips dragging down her throat, rough palms gripping her hips, fingers digging into her soft flesh. Completely surrounded. Completely taken.

She came harder than she ever had before. A cry tearing from her throat, body shaking, completely undone.

The pleasure was so overwhelming that she barely registered the way Hyunjin and Felix groaned in sync, her orgasm clenching around them, drawing them deeper into her. They had to have been heard. The entire dorm probably knew what was happening by now, but none of them cared.

The men pulled out, leaving her trembling, her body still spasming from the aftershocks. Hyunjin laid her on her back gently, pressing soft kisses to her damp forehead before pushing back inside her, sliding in so easily through the mess they had made.

Felix followed, stretching her out all over again.

Their bodies moved in perfect rhythm, thrusting in tandem, driving her into another wave of overstimulation that had her eyes rolling back, her lips parted in helpless moans. It was too much, but it was perfect.

Her fucked-out state only made them more desperate—her messy hair, the deep red marks littering her soft skin, her parted lips glistening with drool. She looked ruined, and they were responsible.

And they wanted more.

When Y/N came again, they both lost it.

Hyunjin let out a deep, guttural groan, his body trembling, his grip on her tightening as if he was trying to hold himself together.

Felix bit his lip, his whole body shuddering, a choked, wrecked moan slipping from his throat.

But in the heat of the moment, their lips met again and somehow, both of them slipped out.

Y/N barely had time to process it before she saw the sight in front of her.

Felix and Hyunjin, lost in each other.

Hyunjin’s hands roamed greedily down Felix’s back, gripping his ass, squeezing, spreading him open, his fingers teasing the sensitive skin.

Felix gasped into Hyunjin’s mouth, his hips rolling forward, their leaking, rock-hard cocks rubbing together.

Y/N’s breath hitched.

Her pussy was still pulsing, loose and aching, but all she could do was watch, mesmerized, entranced, utterly ruined by the sight.

Hyunjin wasn’t gentle.

He grabbed Felix’s hips, pulling him closer, grinding against him, their cocks sliding against each other, throbbing, dripping, needy.

Felix moaned into his mouth, his fingers tangling in Hyunjin’s hair, tugging, making Hyunjin groan, making him push harder, rut against him like he needed to crawl inside him.

Felix’s hands slid lower, gripping Hyunjin’s ass in return, pulling him in, pressing their bodies together even tighter, until every inch of them was aligned, until they could feel each other’s heat, each other’s need.

Felix’s fingers trailed over Hyunjin’s nipples, teasing, pinching, making the other man gasp, his hips jerking involuntarily.

“F-Fuck,” Hyunjin stuttered, voice thick, needy, desperate.

Felix grinned, breathless, smug.

“You like that? Wanna fuck my ass someday too ?” he murmured, dragging his tongue along Hyunjin’s jaw, his throat, tasting the sweat on his skin.

Hyunjin just groaned a quiet yes, his fingers digging into Felix’s back, nails leaving faint red lines.

Y/N let out a soft, desperate moan.

This was the sexiest thing she had ever seen.

Felix and Hyunjin panting against each other’s mouths, rubbing against each other, fucking against each other, hands roaming, tongues tangled, grinding and moaning like they couldn’t get enough.

Hyunjin’s forehead dropped against Felix’s, his breath ragged, uneven.

“I’m so close,” he gasped, his voice breaking, wrecked.

Felix nodded quickly, his hips still rolling, chasing friction.

“Me too—fuck,” he choked out, his cock twitching against Hyunjin’s, so fucking close to falling apart.

And then, Y/N’s voice cut through the haze.

Hoarse, desperate, wrecked beyond belief.

“Inside me.”

Both of them froze.

Felix’s gaze snapped to hers.

Hyunjin’s fingers tightened on Felix’s skin.

They didn’t need to be told twice.

They turned their attention back to her, both pushing inside her at the same time, their cocks sliding in so easily, her pussy still greedy for more. The overstimulation made her whimper, and they groaned in sync, finally giving in.

Hyunjin shuddered, his breath hot against her skin, as he came deep inside her, Felix following moments after, moaning as he spilled into her alongside Hyunjin.

The thought of it—being so full, so completely claimed by them—made Y/N smile in satisfaction, her body utterly spent.

“Imagine if she gets knocked up by one of us,” Hyunjin murmured, still panting, his voice laced with laziness and amusement.

Y/N only hummed sleepily at the thought of their cum breeding her—not even knowing which one of them it would be.

With all of their energy drained, none of them moved. They simply stayed buried inside her, keeping her warm, adjusting so she lay comfortably between them. Their bodies pressed close, their arms wrapped around her protectively, sweat and heat mixing as they held each other.

Felix traced soft circles over Hyunjin’s arm, his other hand resting on Y/N’s stomach, possessively, tenderly.

“On a scale from one to ten, how happy are you right now?” Felix asked, his voice drowsy but warm.

Y/N barely had the strength to answer, but she smiled sleepily at Hyunjin before whispering, “Twenty.”

Hyunjin chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “You cute girl.”

But she was already asleep, safe and cherished in their arms.

[sleepdeprivedfrfr]

your husband nanami never really had much to look forward to in his life rather than making enough money to retire and relax, until you came along. he has never failed to make you happy. you were his number one priority. the reason he worked such excruciating hours. all of pain and suffering that went into the money he made meant nothing if he couldn't spend every single penny towards your happiness. I mean the saying is 'happy wife happy life,' right?

except you've noticed how drained of life your husband was chasing money all the time, he would constantly come home exhausted from working over time. you would often find yourself massaging his tense shoulders while he's drifting off in your lap, still dressed in his work clothes. you began baking pastries and other sweets for him while at home because you felt bad for all the work he had been putting himself through,

"sweetheart, these are delicious, where did you learn how to bake like this?" his usual tired and monotone voice was gone, it was replaced with the slightest amount of shock and delight.

"ken I appreciate you being sweet, but it was my first time making it so its okay to tell me if its bad." you smiled up at him.

"my love what makes you think im just being sweet? this is amazing."

from there on out he would nanami would always compliment your baking exceedingly, getting on his knees in front of you right as he walked through the door and the smell of freshly baked buttery sweet bread hit him.

it still hurt your heart to see him so exhausted all the time. so you had the idea to take on a job at a bakery, your interview went well and the manager loved the sample pastry that you made, he gave you the job and the pay wasn't too bad. you were so excited to tell your husband about your new job when he came home because it meant that he wouldn't have to put so much strain on himself anymore and he could relax.

little did you know that it would lead to a small argument, where kento was being the stubborn one, for once.

"love I just don't understand, am I not doing enough?" he placed a hand on your hip and one on your cheek, his eye brows pushed together in confusion.

"ken you don't get it. youre doing TOO much." you grabbed his hand from your face and held it in yours. "you need a break. plus it would be good for me to get out of the house, I can't stand being at home and doing nothing knowing that you can barely get a full night of rest."

"that's not something you need to worry about-"

"ken."

"hm?"

"youre being stubborn. just let me try for a little while, and you can see what its like to have a break hm? if you REALLY don't like it, then ill quit okay?"

"do you really think that you need to take on a job dear? I-"

"kento."

"okay. but if you really don't like it then just tell-" you cut him off with a sweet kiss to his lips. you knew how much your husband hated working, but you also knew he was too stubborn to ask for help.

months had passed and its safe to say that your deal worked out as you and your husband were walking back from the beach during your week long vacation in Malaysia in celebration of your anniversary.

"ken look how pretty that orchid is!" you pointed high up into a tree at a beautiful fully bloomed white orchid that had hints of yellow and pink in the middle.

"hm." was all he replied with a small smile. I reached up and easily picked the flower due to his tall frame, he placed the flower behind your ear and admired it.

"looks even prettier now." he said as he gently cupped your face and pulled you in slowly for a kiss.

now every year on your anniversary without fail, your husband buys you the same exact white orchids with a hint of yellow and pink in the middle imported from Malaysia just to see your face light up all over again.

guess the saying was true.

a/n: this is not proofread and im aware this is ass but does it look igaf...

[formulakracing]

i. now or never - t.w.

pairing -> student intern!reader x toto wolff

word count -> 1.7k

warnings -> cursing, age gap relationships, power imbalance, a little bit of toxicity, toto being sexy (as always), world-building, mentions of marijuana use, mentions of alcohol use, allusions to sexual fantasies, SLOW BURN (fr this time) yadayadayada (if i missed somethin’ lemme know)

a/n -> i apologize in advance if the internship i write about is nothing like an actual internship for mercedes LMFAO also, bear with me. i know it starts slow but it will pick up!

"oh, great. you're bringing up this fucking internship again. why are you always going on and on about this stupid program?"

swallowing thickly, you drum your fingers on the table, shrugging ever so slightly, "why not? i think it would be a great opportunity for not only grad school, but for career advancement. do you know how many doors that would open for me if i—"

"you'd be gone for an entire year. that's why i don't think it's a good idea."

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺

inhaling sharply, you bite down on your tongue, suppressing a sharp retort.

why does it matter if i have to leave for a year? it's not like you care enough about my interests anyway.

he arches a brow, cocking his head, "why aren't you saying anything?"

"because it's not worth bickering about," fingers curling around the misty glass, you swirl it around, watching as the bubbles float to the surface, "you're right. i'd be gone for a year. it's such a competitive program. i don't even think i'm good enough to get in. they probably prioritize european students anyway. the deadline for the application is due in a week. there's no way i could get everything together in time. it's not worth all the hassle."

"good girl," he hums in approval, shoving a few fries in his mouth, "you know i support you throughout everything you do. i just don't want you to pour all of your energy into this one project just to be rejected. i know you. you'd be devastated. you wouldn't leave your apartment for weeks."

do you know me though? do you really?

the waitress slips by the table, sliding a receipt toward the middle of the table, "here's the bill, as requested. have a great night! be safe getting home!"

gnawing on the inside of your cheek, you wait until her back is turned. exhaling, you pick up the bill, "i'll get it."

"you sure?" he presses, "i'll cover the tip then."

"sounds good."

fishing your phone out of your pocket, you let it hover over the qr code. typing in your card information, you can't help but notice him fumbling with his pockets, searching for his wallet.

puckering your lips, it's your turn to tilt your head, "did you forget your wallet at home?"

"yeaaaaahhhh," his lower lips quivers, forming a pout, "would you mind? i can just venmo or cashapp you later."

"sure," clicking your tongue, you select the tip percentage on the screen, ensuring that the waitress receives a few more dollars than suggested, "okay, it's paid for. let's go."

he follows in suit as you slide out of the booth, shoving your arms in your jacket. pulling his phone out, his attention is fixated on the dim screen, fingers a flurry as he types away.

"hey, one of the boys is going through some shit. you mind if i catch an uber over to his place? i'll be home later."

"like how late?"

"i don't know," he shakes his head, gaze glued on whatever he was possibly reading, "it's matteo. his girlfriend cheated on him. it looks like he could use cheering up."

"i don't care," your eye twitches, yet you wave a hand, "as long as you don't wake me up when you get back."

"of course baby," he coos, placing a tender peck on your cheek, "get some safe, okay?"

"i will," you nod, "love you."

"love you too!" he beams, pulling you in for a quick embrace, "i'll be back before midnight."

"okay."

it's a quiet trek through the parking lot.

a breeze rolls through the cars, promising of frigid weather. tangerine rays filter through the trees, the sun making its descent toward the horizon. the sky is a blanket of a tranquil blue, with traces of lavender and magenta as dusk transitions to night.

clicking your key fob, your vehicle chirps, the engine roaring to life. opening the door, you nearly collapse into the seat, your vision blurred by tears. sniffling, you ensure your seat belt is on, shifting the gear into reverse.

as you pull out of the parking lot, you catch a glimpse of your boyfriend as he clambers into the uber. you try to wave, to muster some sort of smile, but he is not paying any sort of attention as your car soars by.

at that, the tears erupt into sobs.

by no means was your boyfriend a terrible man. he was more than adequate, actually. however, the sheer disdain in his voice over the idea of your pursuing this internship left a sour taste in your mouth.

to be honest, it was more like an awful, putrid taste, bile rising up in the back of your throat as you wallow over the interaction, knuckles turning white as you grip the steering wheel.

the internship in question?

well, it was more like a job opening.

you left that part out, just so that your family and boyfriend would be more apt to the idea. after all, they did not need to know all of the particulars.

all they needed to know is that you were prepping for the opportunity of a lifetime.

an opportunity overseas to work with the mercedes amg petronas formula one team as a member of their media crew.

the internship spanned over the course of several months, following the team throughout the season. from what you could make out from the application, you would start just shy of the season opener in melbourne, around march third. the end date was unclear, but you figured it would end around the time the season was over in december. in all, you would be away from home for nine months.

and your internship duties? all you had to do was travel to luxurious cities, meet fans, promote the team across their social media platforms, and most importantly, film the races.

and the best part? it was a paid internship. mercedes would not only pay you for working with them, but they would also cover travel costs, food, and even software upgrades. additionally, you would receive a monthly stipend for your own personal spending, just so that you could "enjoy your time with us to the fullest."

it was everything you could have dreamed of and more.

so, what was holding you back?

well, there were a few things.

one, was your boyfriend. he was not keen on the idea of you leaving the country, even if it was only for a few months. he was very adamant that if you were to take this internship, then he would end your relationship.

according to him, nine months was too much for him to do long distance. although, the two of you had temporarily engaged in a long distance relationship before he transferred back home.

two, was your family. similar to your boyfriend, they were not happy about the idea of you leaving. they felt that formula one was too flashy. too extravagant. you would not fit in with all of the wealthy moguls and influencers.

you belonged here, in your mediocre college town where no one ever left. you would fare much better spending every weekend frequenting the same bars over and over again, running into the same people, making awkward, monotone small talk. besides, what if the internship was a scam? what if it wasn't everything you hoped it would be?

and the third reason?

well, it was a bit more complicated.

you had a bit of impostor syndrome, as you felt your skills were not good enough. your editing was too choppy. your transitions were not quite neat enough to fit the speed of the cars. since you were an amateur, your work was mainly posted across your instagram and tik tok accounts. your resume was nowhere near as elegant as the other potential applications.

so, why even try? why apply to something like this?

well, ever since you were a little girl, you dreamed of working in motorsports. you weren't quite sure of what you would do at the time, but you knew that it was your calling.

every time you watched a race or posted an edit, there was a shiver that ran down your spine, goosebumps appearing all over. there was a pull at your heart, nearly tugging away at you.

it was enticing, begging you to keep watching. to keep compiling clips together. to keep creating material that was crafted by you, and only you.

it called to push your creativity to the limits. to chase that dream.

to satisfy that hunger deep in your soul.

with graduation only if a few months, you were running out of time. it was now or never. make it or break it.

it was time to push yourself. it was time to break free from the clutches of your college town. it was time to take the leap, one that you had been putting off for so fucking long.

it was time to finally put yourself first.

to choose something that would bring you nothing but pure, immense joy.

and as you pulled into your driveway, you threw open your car door. scurrying inside, you made your way to your room, pushing the door open. tossing your bag on your bed, you hunker at your desk, locating that bookmarked tab.

everything was in order. you had the letters of recommendation. the personal statement was attached. the resume was completed. the portfolio was uploaded.

all you had to do was press that final square.

submit.

your index fingers hovers above the button, nearly trembling.

squeezing your eyes shut, you apply pressure, a clicking ringing in your ears.

within seconds, a new message appears across your screen.

thank you for your interest in this internship with the mercedes amg petronas formula one media team!

after receiving your application, our team will diligently look over your application and submit it for review.

a decision will be made in approximately six to eight weeks. once we have made our decision, you should receive an email in your inbox. make sure to check your spam, as it may be sent there.

we wish you the best of luck!

[bitchface24-7]

Do you still do Yandere Viktor or Yandere Jayce? Could you make a dark story about these boys, plss... I don't see much dark fanfic about them

WOLF IN SHEEP'S CLOTHING - JAYVIK X READER

synopsis: you don't realize how obsessed they are with you. How possessive they are. It isn't until it’s staring you in the face do you realize how depraved your two friends are, and you're kinda into it.

warnings: yandere J and V, kleptomaniac J and V, stalking, thoughts of non-con somnophilia, a touch of non-con somnophilia, dirty fantasies, low-key oblivious R, getting Eiffel towered at the end, Grammarly as me beta

genre: m/m/f or m/m/m

p.s. … don't judge me. I did say I'm one of the writers y'all should come to if you want taboo topics done, I'm letting my freak out ok? Ok. Hope y'all enjoy it! ❤️

You've known these two men for quite some time now.

You met Jayce first. You two shared a few classes at the academy and even partnered up a few times for partnered projects. He's sweet, kind, funny, and a teensy bit naive. He's so focused on assignments, studying, and his personal project, that he doesn't see the swath of men and women wanting to get into his pants.

A lot of your classmates and even some of the professors can't stand you. Because if Jayce's work doesn't have his attention— you do. They want the delectability of Jayce Talis all for themselves, instead he's giving it all to you.

(And eventually Viktor.)

You stayed in Jayces dorm room more often than your own. Eventually, you just kinda… moved in unintentionally.

Both your clothes shared a closet and a dresser, your fragrances joined Jayces, your toothbrushes sat in the same cup together. It was domestic.

You started to notice some of your underwear going missing. But you thought nothing of it. Shit goes missing all the time, the dryer once ate one of Jayce's vests. Your undies are no match.

(What you don't know is that Jayce has them in a box hidden away in his under-the-bed storage system. The same drawers you have on your side of the bed. When he gets the chance— the very few chances he gets, he fucks his cock into your undies. His tight grip caused delicious moans to escape his plump lips. He envisions what you'd look like wearing them, and cums when he envisions you taking them off shyly and spreading your legs. Your sex dripping with its arousal.)

Everything was going well, until the apartment blew up, Jayce went on trial, defended his project and you vigorously, and at the end of it all— lost his research and wasn't banished.

The breath of relief that escaped you was monumental. Then everything else became a blur. You met Heimerdinger’s Assistant Viktor, you broke into his office, you proved Hextexh could work.

Viktor became Jayce’s second partner after that.

And you officially joined the scandal that caused all this mess.

T’was the start of a wonderful friendship!

(full of depravity, thievery, and lust)

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Jayce and Viktor work hard, constantly to improve Hextech and to improve the lives of both the citizens of Piltover and Zaun.

You make sure that they also take care of themselves.

You help out in any way you can.

Bouncing ideas off one another, being a second pair of eyes to an equation, ensuring they take time off to eat and sleep. Their shining light in a neverending cloud of darkness.

Jayce has a relatively good sleep schedule.

Viktor's is horrendous.

So much so that you bought a good quality bed hidden away in an alcove of the lab, and a few futons to rest on. Viktor is too determined to continue working. He won’t stop to leave to go back to his tiny apartment for a few hours of sleep.

There have been too many times you've caught him passed out at his desk for you to allow this to keep happening.

So you bargained.

He can stay in the lab as long as he wants, but he needs to get at LEAST six hours of sleep per night.

He fought, he fought hard until you said now everyone has the opportunity to stay overnight at the lab if they get too tired. That working when exhausted leads to more mistakes and injuries. Being able to take a small nap can rejuvenate the mind and get you to solve that mind-numbing problem you couldn't before.

When you added in the puppy dog eyes regarding Viktor’s health… he folded like a wet piece of tissue paper.

(it also helps he gets to see you in pyjamas, all messy and purely you. How you toss and turn at night, how your hair gets all fucked up in the morning because of it. How delicious you are, served on a silver platter without realizing it. Viktor’s been tempted to touch you. When he's still up working and he sees you passed out on the bed. How soft would your skin be? How plump? Are your lips always that tempting? Your legs are devilish, your back desirable, your ass biteable, and your chest begs him to fondle it.

He does. One night he does. He fondles it as lightly as he can. Tweaking your nipples until they're rock hard, a shiver and mewl escaping your lips. He sees you wiggle a bit in your sleep, your thighs clenched together as he continues his assault. When he spots the wet patch on your pyjamas; it's over for him. He quickly whips his dick out and rubs one out. His one free hand leaves your chest and trails down your body, eventually hitting your wet spot. When you moan loudly— a mix of his and Jayces name, he cums. It almost hits you in the face. After that, he has a few ideas he wants to pass by Jayce.)

You can't help but smile as you see how close Jayce and Viktor have gotten over the last few months. You've heard rumours about both men, how they can be standoffish. Sometimes a bit impatient when someone doesn't understand what they're explaining.

But they flow together like one unit— it's incredible to see. Besides, they're always sweet to you, so you take all the rumours you hear with a grain of salt.

Especially the dirty ones.

How they are in bed, what their cocks are like, how they sound, their dirty kinks, how they rock their partner's world. The thing is, both of them have taken partners that look strikingly similar to one person.

You.

Your hair and eye colour, your haircut, your height, your body type. They're going after your doppelgangers. Most recently you heard about them taking their partner at the same time.

(you're NOT jealous)

(… you are so jealous)

And you keep losing things! You don't know how much underwear you have left. Also, your favourite fragrance has… changed. You used at least a quarter of the bottle, and you remember denting the cap when you accidentally dropped it.

Now there's a brand new bottle on the vanity you and Jayce share. You remember asking him what happened to your old bottle but he looked so flustered and could barely put a sentence together that you came to a charming conclusion.

Jayce accidentally broke your old one and got you a replacement as an apology.

You can't help but smile at the flustered man and give him a kiss on the cheek for his sweet actions— you swear you heard him whimper.

(the old bottle never broke. It's in the lab hidden away in his desk in a secret compartment. That way he can spray it in the air when you're not around— and he and Viktor can still smell you.)

That night, when Jayce and Viktor stayed late in the lab, you touched yourself to the thought of them. How sweet they are, how handsome, how sexy. They're all yours, and your greedy little heart couldn't be any happier. You don't even attempt to be quiet, knowing you're the only one at home.

What you don't realize is Jayce and Viktor heard the whole thing. Viktor had quite a bad coughing attack so Jayce decided to take him back to his place to get taken care of. They could sleep for a bit and go back to the lab. Your wonton moans completely derailed that train.

And everything comes crashing down one day in a way you never expected.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The next morning as Jayce and Viktor bicker over what to have for breakfast, you accidentally drop your chaptick. Thank god you hadn't opened it yet, but it rolled under the bed on Jayce’s side. Without hesitation, you drop to your knees to get your chapstick— instead you find something else.

A massive box piled high with all your missing undergarments. You stare at the box in shock. You thought they just went missing! The drier ate them! It’s done that before to socks and one time to Jayce's vest! You never even imagined Jayce stealing them.

With a fire in your veins, you go to confront him.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

That confrontation went horrendously. Jayce felt no shame, Viktor admitted to… appreciating you when you slept in the lab to try to get some heat off of Jayce, that riled you up further, and then Jayce spat out that they both heard you last night touching yourself like a dirty little whore.

That shut you up.

What’s currently shutting you up is Viktor’s cock shoved all the way down your throat as Jayce pounds away at your sensitive hole.

Fuck it feels so good being plugged up on both ends. Jayce grunting and whining as Viktor commands him. His voice low and moans so sweet. You think you’re in your own personalized heaven.

That is until Viktor sets his sights on you again, “You’re not so innocent either. I remember when you left your journal at the lab accidentally. I may have… taken a small peak. Your desires are so perverse my dear. Wanting to sit on Jayce’s face. Have me finger and choke you in the lab. Being tag teamed by the both of us. Then we heard you last night. Panting and moaning out our names, like a slut. So… how’s the real deal compared to your dirty fantasies? I bet you actually liked knowing how desperate we are for you. That Jayce stole your underwear, that I defiled your body as you slept. You moaned so sweetly for me that I almost came on your face.”

Jayce and you both moan loudly at Viktor’s nasty words. The vibrations cause Viktor to hiss through his teeth.

“Viktor… they like that. Holy fuck, they like that a lot. Your words made them clench so fucking hard.”

The smirk Jayce gets in return for those words can only be described as devilish. Before you know it, every dirty thought, fantasy, and kink is said to you.

“I want to litter you with all my marks. My teeth, my bruises, my cum. You're mine. You're Jayce's. You're ours.”

“I want to see what you look like tied up and overstimulated.”

“Jayce has a deep desire to fuck you standing in front of a window. He's droned on and on about it in the lab when you're not there.”

“I want to see you spent, shaking, and crying. One day we'll dedicate a day purely to fuck you.”

You cum, violently. You're shaking, whining, and feel amazing. Jayce cums after you, balls deep inside you as he groans, and Viktor cums last. His balls touch your chin as he shoots his load down your throat.

You're all panting in the king-size bed, spent, and heavily satisfied.

Eventually, you break the silence, “Jayce, what happened to my bottle of,” you gulp a big breath of air, trying to catch your breath, “Eau De Parfum? I assumed you broke it.”

“It's in the lab. We use it every once in a while when we miss you.”

You awe at that, “Creepy, but very sweet.”

“You love us.”

And dammit he's right, you do.

You shouldn't. But you do.

…. send me to horny jail *boNk*

[dwarf-vader-of-middle-earth]

Ok I'm gonna go on a tangent here, but it's a VERY meaningful one because Lugia is THE reason I got into Pokemon as a kid.

At first, I was indifferent to Pokemon. I was 2 when I had a Gameboy Color, and played Yellow on it all the time, but really I wasn't a huge fan.

Then the Pokemon Movie came on TV, and I saw Lugia. And oh my GOD GIANT WATER BIRD!!!! I absolutely LOVED this Pokemon!!! It spoke to my undying love for water, oceans, and gods in media. I saw the legendaries as Pokemon gods growing up because that's actually quite accurate to the lore, but also it was just the way in which my kid brain processed these epic beings.

Anyway, when I began TRULY playing Pokemon videogames, it was because of Lugia. I got a Nintendo DS for my 8th birthday, I got Pokemon Pearl, and it was there I saw Palkia, who had no gender.

It was a more feminine Pokemon in my sights, but namely because it had a pink color, and Dialga blue. But both of them had no gender. All the legendaries had no gender.

And that was my introduction to genderlessness. Literally. I, at like 8 years old, understood the concept of having no gender.

Now, kids bullied me RELENTLESSLY in school for loving Pokemon. It was seen as the "boys thing". All the boys loved Pokemon, and all the girls literally outcast me, who was one of them, from their social circles whereas many of the boys took me in because we loved Pokemon together. We'd hang out every day, chill and trade cards and Pokemon in-game, and talk about the show and the movies.

Whenever someone asked me about my favorite Pokemon, I told them it was Lugia. It was my true introduction to Pokemon.

And it had no set gender. No legendaries did, really.

The bullying continued as I grew into an adult, all targeting me due to my masculinity and my boyish nature. Countless told me it was like I was a boy trapped in a girl's body. I had one friend that INSISTED this for countless years.

Sometimes I thought I might be like Palkia and Lugia and Deoxys and whatnot. A person with no gender.

Yet this still never sat right with me. I was masculine, I knew I wanted to be a boy my whole life but I couldn't bring myself to terms with this, having no idea how to exist as transgender.

One day I said enough is enough.

I came out. As a trans man. I rose above the belittling and bullying and fear, and embraced my truth, coming out of hiding after nearly 2 decades. I stood high and told everyone that I'm a man, I'm me, I'm masculine and male and nobody will ever fucking take that away from me.

And I had Pokemon, no joke, to thank for this.

It's because of my introduction to genderlessness via legendaries as a child that I knew the existence of gender went beyond the scope of male and female, and that I knew and accepted the fact that gender is more complex than just male and female. Some of us do fit into that binary, but not the binary assigned at birth. Some never fit into anything linear, some are a mix of both or fluctuate between different gender lines on the spectrum that it is, and this is beautiful! Gender is limitless, and it goes beyond what so many are taught of rigid male and female!!

So I knew that, just as the legendaries existed beyond the norms of gender, I could do the same.

And I had Lugia, my favorite Pokemon of all who dragged me HARD down the Pokemon rabbit hole, to thank for this.

Lugia literally led to me realizing I'm trans.

So for what it's worth, Takeshi Shudo, I hope you know that your genderqueer Pokemon Lugia is the very reason I recognized and accepted that I'm a trans man. Your Pokemon who transcended the binary gave way for me to live as someone that did the same, and to break gender norms to live as the man I am now.

You've done a wonderful thing, creating Lugia.

Thank you, and rest in peace. <3

apparently lugia was created specifically for the second pokemon movie?? like the creator was surprised to see it in the games??

[vinnyvamppp]

Can I request for Ladybug! Reader? I saw a TikTok video where Marinette was telling some heroes she could just Miraculous ladybug everything back to normal and they want to hire her because of that.

So imagine this but with Invincible, Reader's like his next door neighbor - yes she witnessed him learning how to land and she got pissed at that cuz IT WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT

I like the idea of her revealing her identity to Mark so she can join him in missions whenever, so anytime he destroyed half of a city she just Miraculous ladybug everything and goes "YOUR WELCOME ASSHOLEEE!!"

And maybe during the Invincible war, she lucky charms a whip while fighting a variant (either Mohawk Mark or No goggles Mark cuz they freaky like that) and she goes wtf am I supposed to do with this?

(sorry I'm rambling a lot I just like the potential of this concept)

Friendly Neighborhood Inconvenience

NOTE: THIS IDEA WAS SOOOO FUN, Its 1 am for me and I've been giggling away while typing. I've taken a different approach to my usually long writing to make this more conversationally driven. I'm not straying too much so the vision is accurate. Up and away! Synopsis: Mark Grayson, is your biggest inconvenience and friend... whom you also live next to. Super-powered besties...? :) Warnings: None, my first non-smut-related blog yes yes! Just two idiots with powers. Mark Grayson x Ladybug!Reader Word Count: 1,000

You knew Mark Grayson was going to be a problem the moment he crashed into your backyard.

Not metaphorically. Not in a "he’s my annoying next-door neighbor" way. No, Mark Grayson—your classmate, occasional physics partner, and guy who still owed you ten bucks from a group project—literally smashed into the ground outside your window at 2 AM. 

You had been peacefully sleeping, dreaming of things far, far away from the absolute disaster that was your life, when a loud THUD shook your house. The crashes you had been imagining in your dreams began to manifest outside of your home. Were you under attack? Has the house shifted? Did your insomnia finally catch up to you? You jolted awake, heart racing, and sprinting as you immediately threw open your window to find Mark groaning in a crater. Oh…

"...Are you serious right now?"

He looked up, squinting, disoriented. "Huh—? Oh. Uh. Hey, neighbor."

"You woke me up," you deadpanned.

"Sorry," he wheezed, struggling to stand. His hands planting themselves against his knees.

"Mark. Why are you in my backyard." Your fingers gestured to the now three unevenly placed craters, one having a busted water pipe.

At that, he winced. "I was... learning how to land."

"You… know how to fly?” Correction: Barely. “...In the middle of the night?"

"Y-Yeah?"

You sighed so hard it could’ve put out a candle. "Grayson, I swear to God, if you ever—"

His attention suddenly turned towards his bedroom, the voice of his mothers concerned cries calling out for him jolted him into focus. And then he zoomed away, barely getting his balance, leaving you seething in your pajamas.

Yeah. Mark Grayson was going to be a problem. One you couldn’t avoid. Mark thought he was so slick. Just how did he manage his grades being so reckless? He’d show up to school exhausted, disappear at the most inconvenient times, and had that whole "Oops, did I break another building? Teehee!" energy about him. You knew. Oh, you knew.

Because the second you saw him with a black eye in the hallway after a “plumbing accident,” you put two and two together. You’d seen Invincible on the news. You’d seen him stumble into your backyard like an idiot. Not to mention the various times he’d confidently strut into his home WEARING HIS COSTUME. Though, you always assumed he was just into comic con and somewhat of a superhero nerd.

So when the time finally came to throw off the mask, you did it spectacularly.

Mark stood in your living room, eyes wide, staring at you in full Ladybug attire. "Wait—YOU’RE LADYBUG?!"

You smirked, spinning your yo-yo. "Surpriiiise~!"

"But—how—why—?!"

"Bro, did you really think you were the only one sneaking around at night?!"

Mark ran a hand through his hair, still struggling to process. "You fix everything after my fights?"

"Ding ding ding!" You clapped your hands. "Every time you break a city block, I put it back together. Every. Single. Time."

His jaw dropped. "Oh my God."

"Oh your God is right. Do you know how hard it is to undo your messes?! Half the time, I don’t even know what I’m fixing! You knock over a skyscraper, I gotta wing it! And every fight wrecks at least ten buildings!"

Mark laughed, but there was guilt in his eyes. "...So, uh. Guess this means you can help out more?"

You crossed your arms. "Help? Babe, I’ve been your cleanup crew this entire time. You should be helping me."

And thus, the most chaotic partnership in hero history was born. Cecil had been hounding you anyway, so this panned out in your favor. Being close and personal to his hero-ly escapades made the clean up easier to maintain… for your sanity of course. You had been through some rough days. Fought some wild villains. But nothing could have prepared you for an entire army of Invincibles tearing through the planet. Honestly, you were terrified; and left ragged, but keeping your wits about you would be the best bet you had for survival. 

You were dodging a punch from one of them, Mohawk Mark, which was an awful fashion choice, by the way—when your Lucky Charm activated. Perhaps it was something helpful like a pair of shears to correct his funky haircut. A bright light flashed, and in your hand, you felt—

A whip.

You blinked.

"...What the hell am I supposed to do with this?!"

Mohawk Mark lunged at you with a cheeky grin, enthralled more than anything. “Didn’t know you were into that, could use another one of you.” He teased.

"Shit—!"

You improvised. And like a thirsty mutt, he hounded you like a new obsession. Who knew men with harems could be so freaky? Later, when the war was over, when the dust settled and the leveled cities were—miraculously— nearly restored, you stood next to Mark, arms crossed, glaring at him.

"Go ahead," he muttered.

"You know what I’m gonna say," you grinned, nudging him slightly.

He sighed.

"Go on," you sing-songed.

"…Thanks."

"And—?"

"...Sorry for all the messes."

You smirked, patting his shoulder. "See? That wasn’t so hard. Now go buy me dinner, asshole."

Mark groaned. "You're never gonna let this go, huh?

"Not in a million years." Secretly, he would be happy too, but the poor boy was embarrassed from being proven wrong that his lips sealed shut. As Mark begrudgingly led the way to the nearest burger joint, you grinned, spinning your yo-yo around your finger. The city skyline gleamed, perfectly restored, thanks to you. The world was safe again—also thanks to you. And despite the chaos, the near-death experiences, and the fact that you were probably stuck dealing with Mark’s messes forever… you wouldn’t have it any other way. Ugh, I just love writing in-character stories. I HOPE THIS LIVED UP TO YOUR REQUESTS EXPECTATIONS LMAO.

[mandoalorian]

in too deep [bucky barnes x f!reader]

Pairing: Congressman!Bucky Barnes x Personal Assistant!Reader

Synopsis: Bucky pulls away, leaving the reader caught between desire and confusion as hidden dangers close in. Tensions escalate when a secret is exposed, threatening everything they've built. With the stakes higher than ever, Bucky uncovers a shocking truth that could change everything—but it comes at a dangerous cost.

Word Count: 2700

Tags/warnings: 18+ explicit content. employer x employee, f!receiving oral, fingering, taunting, mutual masturbation, delayed gratification, sex in a public space, praise kink, bit of humiliation, bucky talks you through it (also lots of angst but it's all building up now!!!)

Masterlist

prev chapter <3 | congress & carnality masterlist

The airport lounge was quiet, dimly lit, with only the occasional murmur of voices from other travellers passing through. You were seated in a plush chair across from Bucky, legs crossed, fingers skimming absently over the rim of your water glass, but your mind was elsewhere.

On him.

On the way his jaw was tense, his fingers tapping idly against his knee. On the way he’d kissed you in the car—claimed you, told you he’d always choose you.

But mostly, on the way his gaze was fixed on you now, heavy and unreadable, like he was thinking about something, deciding something.

Then he said it.

“I heard you.”

Your breath caught, your heart skipping a beat. “What?”

Bucky leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His voice was low, deliberate. “Last night. I heard you in your room.”

Your stomach plummeted.

You didn’t dare move, didn’t dare breathe as the meaning of his words sank in.

No. No, he couldn’t mean—

“I heard the way you said my name, sweetheart,” Bucky continued, tilting his head slightly, watching the way your face burned with realisation. “Knew exactly what you were doin’. Know exactly how pretty you sound when you—”

“Bucky,” you hissed, warning and wide-eyed, glancing around as if someone might hear.

He smirked, but his eyes were dark and hungry.

“You have no idea what that did to me,” he murmured, voice like gravel and honey. “Had to listen to you fall apart for me, and I couldn’t even—” He inhaled sharply, his fingers clenching on his knee. “Couldn’t do a damn thing about it.”

You swallowed, pressing your thighs together beneath the table. “I—”

“You wanna know what I did?” Bucky cut in, his voice deceptively soft.

You shouldn’t. You shouldn’t want to know. But you did.

“I had to take care of it, right then and there,” he said. “Pictured you in that bed, touching yourself, saying my name. Didn’t even make it to the shower—just fisted my cock right there, thinking about how bad you must’ve needed me.”

Your breath hitched, heat creeping up your spine, pooling low in your belly.

“And you know what?” Bucky’s lips curved into a lazy smirk. “It wasn’t enough.”

Your thighs clenched harder.

Bucky leaned back, watching you with sharp amusement. “You’re quiet, sweetheart. Cat got your tongue?”

You glared at him, shifting in your seat, but the smug bastard knew exactly what he was doing to you.

Then he tilted his head toward the hallway leading to the private restrooms.

“Come with me,” he murmured.

Your breath caught. “Bucky, we can’t—”

“You’re gonna tell me no?” he challenged, voice dripping with pure sin.

God, you should say no. This was reckless. Stupid.

But the look in his eyes said he wasn’t asking.

And you didn’t want to say no.

So you stood.

And followed.

You barely made it into the small, dimly lit private restroom before Bucky was on you.

His hands gripped your hips, pushing you back against the marble counter, his breath hot against your ear. “Lock the door,” he rasped.

Your fingers fumbled, twisting the lock into place just as Bucky’s lips found your neck. He sucked lightly, his stubble grazing against your skin as his hands slipped beneath your blazer, pushing it off your shoulders.

“You think I didn’t feel it?” he murmured between kisses, his hands slipping down to your thighs, pushing your dress up. “How wet you were for me at dinner?”

Your head tilted back as his lips ghosted over your pulse.

“Was gonna be good,” he continued, his fingers tracing the damp lace of your panties. “Was gonna wait. But you—you kept looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” Your breath hitched as he dragged a single finger over the soaked fabric.

“Like you wanted me to lose control.”

Bucky tugged your panties down, letting them drop to the floor. His eyes burned into yours as he sank to his knees, his hands gripping your thighs to spread you open for him.

You gasped as he licked into you without hesitation.

The first slow drag of his tongue made you tremble, your hands gripping the counter behind you for support. Bucky groaned against you, the vibrations sending a sharp pulse of pleasure through your core.

“Fuck—Bucky—”

His grip on your thighs tightened as he pulled you closer, burying himself between your legs like he was starving.

Messy. Filthy. Like he needed this.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging, and Bucky growled, dragging his tongue through your folds before sucking lightly on your clit.

You bit down on your lip to keep from moaning too loud, but he noticed.

“Don’t get shy now, sweetheart,” he murmured, his fingers teasing at your entrance. “Wanna hear how bad you need me. Just like last night.”

A single finger pushed inside, curling just right, and your knees nearly buckled.

“Bucky—”

“That’s it,” he encouraged, adding another finger, stretching you as he worked his tongue over your clit with slow, devastating precision. “So tight for me, baby. You been aching for me since last night, haven’t you?”

You whimpered, your hips rolling to meet his movements, chasing the pleasure building in your core.

Bucky groaned, his free hand gripping your thigh hard enough to bruise. “Knew it,” he muttered, his tongue flicking faster. “Could hear it in your voice when you said my name. So desperate. So fuckin’ sweet.”

You were close. The tension in your stomach coiled tighter, your body tensing as his fingers pumped into you harder, deeper—

Then he pulled away.

You nearly sobbed. “Bucky—”

He stood, grabbing your wrists and guiding your hands down between you.

“Show me,” he said, voice wrecked. “Show me how you touched yourself for me.”

Your breath stuttered, your thighs shaking, but under his dark, hungry gaze, you did as he asked.

Your fingers dipped between your legs, circling your clit the way you had the night before, and Bucky groaned.

“Jesus Christ.”

His own hand slid down, palming himself through his slacks before he hastily undid his belt. You gasped as he pulled his cock free, thick and already leaking.

“Look at you,” he murmured, stroking himself slowly as he watched you. “So fuckin’ perfect.”

The sight of him, the way his fist moved over his cock in time with your own movements, sent another rush of heat through you.

“You like this?” he rasped, his thumb teasing the tip. “Like knowing I’m losing my mind over you?”

You nodded, breathless, fingers moving faster.

Bucky groaned, his free hand gripping your hip as his strokes grew rougher.

“Wanna come with me, baby?” he panted.

You whimpered, nodding again.

“That’s it. Just like that—fuck—”

His jaw clenched, his body shuddering as he reached his peak, and the sight of him coming apart—his head tilting back, his lips parting, his cock twitching in his fist—sent you spiraling over the edge right after him.

Your walls pulsed around nothing, your legs trembling as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

Bucky’s forehead dropped to yours as you both caught your breath, his hands smoothing over your shaking thighs.

“Fuck,” he muttered, chuckling hoarsely. “We’re a mess.”

You laughed breathlessly, leaning against him.

Then—

A sharp knock on the door.

You both froze.

“Sir?” a voice called from the other side. “Your flight’s ready for boarding.”

Shit.

Bucky smirked, tucking himself back into his pants, straightening his shirt. “Guess we should go, huh?”

You quickly fixed your dress, cheeks still burning as you avoided his smug gaze.

“Shut up,” you muttered, pushing past him.

But his fingers caught your wrist, tugging you back just long enough to press a slow, lingering kiss to your lips.

When he pulled away, his blue eyes were dark and serious.

“We’re not done, sweetheart.”

And with that, he opened the door, striding out as if he hadn’t just wrecked you in an airport bathroom.

You swallowed hard, straightened your posture, and followed.

Bucky guided you onto the private jet, his hand resting low on your back as he led you up the steps. His touch lingered, even as he pulled away to greet the flight attendant with a nod. The moment you stepped inside, the quiet luxury of the cabin wrapped around you—dim lighting, plush leather seats, and the soft hum of the engines warming up beneath your feet.

The door sealed shut behind you both. Just like that, you were alone.

Bucky’s presence was overwhelming. You could still feel the ghost of his lips from the airport, the way he had held you, kissed you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered. His words from the car echoed in your head.

I will always choose you.

But there was something else, something unsaid hanging between you now.

You settled into your seat, trying to calm your racing thoughts. Bucky sat across from you, but his gaze never wavered. He looked at you like he was still devouring the sight of you, his jaw tight, his fingers flexing over the armrest.

The jet began to taxi down the runway. You fastened your seatbelt, but Bucky didn’t move.

You gripped the armrests. The jet lifted off the ground, but your stomach was already in freefall.

Bucky sat beside you, arms crossed, gaze distant. His mind was elsewhere.

“You’re quiet,” you murmured, watching him.

His jaw clenched. He let out a long breath, fingers tapping against his bicep. “There’s something I’ve been thinking about,” he admitted. “Something I probably shouldn’t say out loud.”

You reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “You can tell me.”

Bucky hesitated. Then, in a low voice, he said, “I think they’re making more.”

“More what?”

“More of me.”

The weight of his words settled in your chest.

“Bucky—”

“I know what the government is capable of,” he said, voice hollow. “I know what they do in the dark, what they erase from history. If they want a new version of me, they’ll make one. And I can’t let that happen.”

Your fingers tightened on his sleeve. “We’ll figure this out,” you promised.

His blue eyes met yours, searching. “You really believe that?”

“Yeah,” you whispered. “Because I believe in you.”

Bucky exhaled sharply, his head dipping. You reached up, brushing your fingers against his jaw.

And for the first time, he let himself lean into your touch.

“You must know someone close to the President, someone with intel…” you suggested in a questioning tone.

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I might know someone.”

“And you know, Buck, having more people being like you wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” You smiled, pressing a chaste kiss to his jaw. 

For a moment, Bucky could breathe. He shifted his weight and tried to relax. At least he was with you, and you were safe, and in that moment, he vowed to keep you safe for the rest of his life.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

As soon as the plane touched down in New York City, you felt an air of unease. 

The fallout had been immediate.

By the time the plane had landed, the internet had exploded with footage of Bucky’s punch, headlines twisting the story in every possible direction. Some called him a hero, others a violent liability. The press swarmed the airport, cameras flashing like gunfire, voices rising over each other.

“Congressman Barnes! Do you regret the attack?” “Was this an overreaction, or do you have a history of violence?” “Are you fit for office?”

Security barely kept them at bay as you and Bucky were ushered toward the car waiting outside. But inside the SUV, Bucky was silent, his jaw tight, gaze locked on the window as the city blurred past. His hand was balled into a fist, vibranium fingers that you could tell were strained by the look on his face. And you felt utterly helpless. 

“I can fix this,” you murmured. You weren’t sure how. It was an empty promise, but you knew you had to reassure him right now.

“Doesn’t matter.” His voice was flat. Empty. Stoic. 

“It does matter,” you argued. “People will understand—”

“They never understand,” he snapped. The muscle in his jaw ticked, his fingers flexing against his knee. “You think the government will let me walk away from this? You think Ross and Val won’t use this against me? I’m their puppet. My strings are snapping, and they don’t want The Winter Soldier to have any part in politics.”

Your stomach twisted at his words.

“You’re a free man.” You reminded him but Bucky just shook his head.

You’d heard stories and rumours and whisperings about Bucky and his past. The Winter Soldier. You were just as aware as the rest of the world, but of course, you had never asked him about it. After all, you were merely just his assistant, and to bring up something of such magnitude would have been inappropriate. This was the first time you’d seen him talk and open up about something so significant and you knew, you knew deep inside that his feelings on this matter were more than valid after what he had been through.

Deep down, you knew he was right.

The carphone rang. No Caller ID.

Bucky let it ring once. Twice. Then he answered.

“Barnes,” he said stiffly.

You couldn’t hear what was said, but you watched his face shift—first rigid, then darkening, then still.

His fingers clenched around the phone. Something unfamiliar and frightening flickered across his face.

“You don’t get to tell me what I am,” he said quietly.

Silence.

Then, he ended the call, exhaling sharply before tossing the phone onto the seat between you.

“What did they say?” you asked hesitantly like you were scared to find out.

Bucky let out a humourless laugh. “They’re building a case,” he muttered. “They’re gonna paint me as unstable. As dangerous. And if I don’t play nice—” He turned to you then, his eyes dark and cold. “They’ll come after you, too.”

A chill ran through you. “What do you mean?”

“They know everything,” he said. “They know about us.”

Your breath caught. How was that possible? You had both been so careful. You couldn’t help but think about both yours and Bucky’s career. This is what you had feared the whole time, and now it was coming to fruition. 

Bucky leaned in slightly, voice low. “They’ll twist it. Say you’re influencing me. That I’m compromised. They’ll ruin you just to keep me in line.”

Fear crawled up your spine, but anger burned just as hot. “They can’t do that—”

“They can,” he said simply. “They always have. This is what they do,” Bucky explained. “I was lucky the government didn’t kill me for what I did back when I—.”

“That wasn’t you.” You reminded him, interruptive and stern. You saw the conflict in his eyes. He still didn’t forgive himself for what The Winter Soldier did. 

“But it was,” He choked out, his blue eyes ice cold with fear. “I won’t let them hurt you.”

“Bucky, don’t worry about me. We need to damage control. This is your campaign we’re talking about…”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The weight of it settled between you, suffocating.

Finally, you exhaled. “Let’s go back to my apartment in Brooklyn, lay low for a few days until we figure out a plan.”

Bucky stared ahead, eyes unreadable.

“Brooklyn,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. “I was born in Brooklyn.” 

You offered Bucky a warm smile and interlocked your fingers with his. “Then let's go home.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

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