#and he's not all bad he's really not but the problem see is that he's seen you cry so he has to be dead or never speak to anyone you know | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

p1astr81 · 1 day ago

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‘tis the damn season

in which: Oscar’s ex calls him up one afternoon, proposing that they fake their relationship for a week at her parent’s house.

pairing: Oscar Piastri x fem!reader

warnings: loosely based on the TS song, use of y/n (once or twice), Oscar is hella whipped, cursing, idk I think that’s all.

wc: 7.3k

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Your thumb hovered over the call button, mentally preparing for the awkward conversation that was about to take place. Your chest rose and fell in deep motions.

Before you could psych yourself out, your finger mashed the call button.

“Oh my god, please don’t pick up. Please don’t pick up. Please don’t pick up. Please don’t p-“ he answered after the second ring. “Hey!” Your voice shook, an embarrassing amount of vulnerability.

“Y/n? Has something happened? You sound… on edge.”

You pulled at the strings of the blanket draped across your lap. “Well, I have a very big favor to ask of you, and of course you can say no. I mean it’s a huge favor—really weird actually,” you laughed awkwardly.

“It can’t be that bad.”

It was tough to swallow the lump in your throat. “My whole family want to spend next week at our cabin, and I…” it was suddenly hard for you to breathe, your heart ten pounds heavier. Oscar remained silent. “Well,” you sighed, “would you be able to come along?”

The silence on the other end was deafening. Not even distant breath. The static filtering through the speakers inflated your anxiety with every passing second.

“Okay.” He gave in with a breath. “Just text me the details.”

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SUNDAY

Living out in Nice, the drive to his Monaco apartment wasn’t unbearably far. You stepped out of the car to help him put his bags in your trunk. You’d decided to take your car because, changes are, it would do better in the mountains than his McLaren.

When you rounded to the back of the car, the trunk was already closed, and soon the sound of your driver’s door shutting reached your ears.

You found Oscar occupying the driver’s seat. “What are you doing?” You raised a brow. Oscar smiled innocently. “have you ever driven when we are together?” It was a question not meant to be answered. You didn’t fight him, knowing it was a losing game. You just rolled your eyes and took up your place in the passenger’s seat.

You and Oscar traveled in near silence, only your music filling the empty air. The atmosphere was light, rid of all the awkwardness you assumed would hang around the both of you. Maybe Oscar was just easy company to keep.

You allowed your thoughts to travel far away from you, to the past to be exact.

You and Oscar didn’t end things messy. Not at all. It was a mutual agreement. In your year and a half together, you didn’t have many spats. Every day spent with together was brimming with endless devotion.

The problem arose when your schedules began to conflict.

With dreams of being a mechanical engineer, a lot of your time was spent on your studies. Oscar knew how dedicated you were, and therefore never pushed you to travel with him. But only seeing him for a few weeks of the year—less than half of them—began to strain your relationship. Mentally, it was draining the both of you.

So to focus on your studies, and for Oscar to focus on his career, you decided to part ways.

That was two months ago, and you’d been no contact ever since. Well, until you asked him to come with you to your parent’s cabin.

You felt a poke on your shoulder, followed by a “hey” and a laugh. You tore your eyes from the window, peering at Oscar with raised brows. “Where’re you at?” He grinned at you, taking glances out of the corner of his eye.

“Hm? Oh. Just thinking.” You shook your head, watching as the buildings transitioned into dead trees as you left Monaco’s limits.

He hummed a response, leaving a gap of silence before asking, “so, why did you want me to come along?”

You sighed, your hands falling to your lap. “You know how they are. They think I can’t keep a guy, and… I don’t know, I was hoping if they’d see you and think you’re still with me then their image of me would change.”

Oscar frowned. Reflexes guiding his movements, he reached out to you, having every intention to place a hand on your thigh or over your own hand. He caught himself before it got that far, placing his hand on the center console instead. The role of comforting you was no longer his part to play.

“It’s stupid, I’m sorry. We should turn around I’ll just-“

“It’s not stupid.” He cut you off. “I think it sucks, and I’ll help you the best I can.” He assured, giving you a soft smile, one you returned. “Thanks, Os.”

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You and Oscar were the last to arrive at the cabin on Sunday night.

He followed in behind you. His eyes widened when he saw the whole family in the living room. Your parents, two sisters, your two aunts on your moms side, and your four cousins. Not to mention all of their significant others and your niece and nephew. In all, it was about sixteen people.

He leaned in close to your ear, whispering, “I didn’t realize you meant the whole family.” You shivered as his warm breath hit your skin. Goosebumps spread across your entire body. “It’s as much as a shock to me.” You told him truthfully.

Your mom saw you first, jumping up and running to greet you. “Oh! I’ve missed you.” She greeting, smothering you in a hug. Her strong floral perfume nearly choked you to death. “Missed you too, mom.” You forced yourself away before the noxious scent took you out completely.

Meanwhile, your uncle, Isaac, had kidnapped Oscar, dragging him away with a tight hold around his neck. “Oscar! My boy, good to see you’re still hangin in there.” Uncle Isaac was sure to stare dead in your eyes while saying the last part. The way he laughed at himself made Oscar’s stomach twist. His face remained straight, not a hint of amusement in sight.

“Hey, Uncle Isaac.” Oscar greeted politely.

Little five year old Theo jumped up, running toward Oscar. “Oscar!” He cheered, nearly toppling over from excitement. Oscars ability to move was inhibited when Theo latched around his legs. Isaac let go of Oscar.

“Hey mate!” Oscar greeted with equal enthusiasm, hoisting the kid up into his arms. Oscar held Theo over his head, and Theo spread his arms and legs out. “Mom look! I’m an airplane!” He cheered, making airplane noises. Lia, your sister, nearly had a heart attack when she turned to see what her son was talking about. “Okay, I think that’s enough airplane.” She rushed to Oscar’s side, who let Theo down. “Aww,” Theo pouted, crossing his arms and walking right past his mom, ignoring her.

Oscar felt a tug on his pants. Looking down, he was met with the large doe eyes of Theo’s twin sister, Thalia. She waved shyly under his gaze. He bent down to chat with her closer, pointing out the doll clutched in her hand. “That’s a pretty doll.” He smiled. “What’s her name?”

Thalia swayed herself from side to side. “Lillia.” She muttered. Oscar gasped softly. “That’s a pretty name.”

While Oscar was being bombarded by the children, you’d been dragged to the living room to greet all of your relatives.

“Ah, I see you’ve kept this one longer than a year. That’s a new record.” You uncle Leni laughed, embracing you loosely. You gave a half-assed laugh, though it hurt massively. You thought you could’ve avoided these kinds of comments if Oscar was here with you, but now it seems you’ve dragged him out here for no reason.

You should’ve known better.

“Are you still going for that mechanical engineering degree?” Your aunt Anne asked a bit of a judgy tone. She sat next to her husband Leni while swirling a drink in her hand. You nodded, sitting next to your sister Katie on the floor. “And you’re still aiming for a job with f1?” You gave another nod.

“Are you sure? I mean, isn’t that a bit unrealistic?”

Cocking your head to the side you asked, “what do you mean by that?” Your tone was harsh and accusatory. Anne shrugged. “Well, it isn’t really a place for a woman is it? If you look in any of those garages, it’s mostly men.”

You felt the anger swirling deep in your stomach, brewing a deeper feeling of resentment. You open your mouth to speak when Oscar’s voice joined the conversation from behind you.

“Yeah it is mostly men, but that doesn’t mean she can’t do it.” Oscar shrugged, taking a seat next to you. Close enough to not raise suspicion, but far enough to not be touching. You looked to him with raised brows. “I think she can do it. Last year, she majorly helped the team fix an issue with the car. And that was only in her third year of school.”

Uncle Leni laughed. “Eh, she’s got as good of a chance as any man.” He waved a hand through the air. For a moment, you thought he actually was showing some support. “She’s dating one of the drivers.” He motioned a hand toward Oscar, laughing loudly. Everyone else in the room chuckled.

You stood abruptly. “Excuse me, I need the restroom.” You muttered, trying your best not to run away from the family.

With worried eyes, Oscar watched as you disappeared down the hall. He had never been a violent man, but right now, he really wanted to take your uncle by the collar of his shirt and chuck him over the balcony to send him tumbling down the side of the mountain. Of course, he did not.

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As the family was winding down and preparing for bed, a realization hit you. If it was a physical force, it would’ve knocked you through a wall.

While Oscar helped you straighten up the living room, you leaned closer to him, whispering, “We have to share a bed.” Oscar turned his head over his shoulder to look at you with a raised brow. “What?” He genuinely had not heard you. “We have to share a room. And a bed.”

The color drained from Oscar’s face. “Oh,” he muttered, crossing the living room to create distance between you two.

When the two of you entered the room a little later that night, the air between you became tense and awkward.

“I’ll sleep in the floor.” Oscar proposed, making you shake your head quickly. “I can’t ask that of you. I dragged you out here.”

“I chose to come out here.” He reminded you. Your eyes drifted to the king sized bed. “I think it’ll be fine. We’ll just stay on our own sides.”

You moved a pillow, creating a physical barrier between your two sides of the bed. You faced him, motioning your hands to the quick fix as a way to say, see?

Oscar shrugged. “I guess.”

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MONDAY

The family was off to the slopes the next morning. Oscar and yourself driving Theo and Thalia because your nephew was attached to Oscar, and Thalia was always by her brother’s side.

When you got there, Theo started dragging Oscar toward the small slopes. “I want to race you! I bet I’m faster than you.” Oscar laughed. “I was going to go down the big kid slopes.” Oscar pointed to the much steeper slope. Theo frowned. “But I can’t go to the big kid slopes.” He crossed his arms over his chest. It was hard for Oscar to deny Theo anything, so he looked to you with a question in his eyes. You gave him a small nod.

“Are you coming with us?” Thalia’s small voice asked form next to you, her hands, encased in bright pink gloves, gripping her goggles. You glanced up at Oscar and hummed. “Sure, why not?” You smiled, taking Thalias hand in yours and joining Oscar and Theo as they waited for a lift.

Oscar didn’t seem surprised that you had also wound up stuck with the kiddies. “I can look after the both of them if you want to go with the rest of my family.”

Oscar’s face scrunches up, like that idea inflicted physical pain upon his person. He shook his head. “Nah, I’m not a big fan of skiing anyway, so I think the kiddie slopes are the perfect pace for me.” He flashed one of his charming grins at you. You gave a small smile in response.

You flagged down Lia and Dylan, informing them from a distance that you and Oscar were looking over their kids. They seemed overly satisfied that the responsibility was taken away from them.

“I’m scared.” Thalia’s little voice squeaked from next to you. You smiled down at her, a comforting hand on her head. “It’s alright, Thal, I’ll stay with you.” You crouch down in front of her. “I’ll make sure you’re nice and safe. I pinky promise.” You offered your pinky to her. She hesitantly hooked your pinky with hers, splitting your lips into a smile.

Oscar called your name, causing you to look up at him with wide eyes. At the sight of your curious doe-eyed expression, he fought off a smile that tried to surface on his face. Half failing, he ended up with a slanted smile. “The lift.” He explained shortly.

The four of you piled in together. Thalia and Theo in the middle while Oscar and yourself occupied the outsides.

Thalia hung onto your ski pants when you got off. Theo and Oscar took off down the mountain, racing each other just as Theo wished. You could tell Oscar was majorly holding back, though.

“You’ve got it, Thal, you’ve done this before.” You reassured her and she gave you a small nod. You kept your pace slow at first, waiting for Thalia to catch up with every movement so you didn’t stray too far away.

But she eventually gained her confidence, and even tried to be faster than you. You let her fly on the skis ahead of you. It was easier to keep an eye on her that way.

At the bottom of the slope stood Oscar and Theo, waiting for the both of you. “So who won?”

“Me!” Theo tried to jump but his skis weighed him down. You turned to Oscar. “Getting beat by a kid? Shame. Better luck next time.” You teased.

Oscar smiled. “He’s just too good.”

Apparently, you and Oscar had been smiling at each other for too long, because Theo gags. “Yuck! Come on I want to beat you again.” Theo urged, leading the group as he walked back to the lift station.

Oscar was quick to follow, then you and Thalia. Thalia called your name once again. “What’s up, hon?” You replied.

Her eyes were trained on Oscar’s backside. “I think Oscar is pretty.” She confessed. You didn’t laugh, only smiled softly at her. “Really? Would you like me to tell him that?”

She hesitated for a moment, then shook her head. “No. He’s too old for me.” You chuckled.

Later that night, as you’re around the table eating dinner, sat next to Oscar, she tells him for herself.

She came between your chairs, tapping Oscar’s arm twice. He leaned down at her signal for him to come closer. His brows shot up when she told him. “Really? Well thank you. I think you’re a cutie, Thal.” At that, her face flushed a furious shade of red and scurried back to her seat beside her brother.

“Now she’s going to think you have a crush on her.” You whispered in his ear. A chill ran down his spine at the feeling of your breath contacting his bare skin. He tried his best to ignore how it made him feel.

He grinned. “I’m sure she won’t.”

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TUESDAY

She definitely did.

Now Theo and Thalia were attached to Oscar for completely different reasons.

When Thalia saw Oscar the next morning, the first thing she did was compliment him. “I like your hair.” She said from her spot on the couch. Oscar first glanced at you before looking at her. “I just woke up like this.” He brushed it off, smiling.

But the compliments didn’t stop. When you went out again to ski, she insisted on sitting next to him on the lift, and told him, “your goggles are cool.”

They were plain black goggles.

“You have pretty eyes.” During lunch.

Pointing to his plain maroon colored shirt during dinner and saying, “I like your shirt.”

Wedging between the both of you during movie night and telling Oscar he smelt good.

“I like your toothbrush,” while he was getting ready for bed.

Anything she could compliment him on, she did. And it started to freak you out a bit. “Oscar you’ve gotta tell her you’re just friends.” You advised while fluffing up your pillow. “It’s a harmless crush,” he ran a hand through his hair. “She’ll probably be over it by tomorrow.”

You doubted it. “And what if she isn’t?” You threw your pillow on your side of the bed. Oscar laid on his side, raising a brow at you. “Are you jealous of a five year old?” He teased.

You scoffed, sitting cross legged on your side of the bed. “There’s nothing to be jealous about. For one, she’s a five year old and you’re not a pedophile. And for two, we aren’t even together.”

Oscar shifted uncomfortably at the reminder. “If she isn’t over it by tomorrow, then I’ll make it clear that we’re just friends.” He chuckled, shaking his head. He thought it was a little ridiculous that he had to clarify to a five year old that they were just friends.

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WEDNESDAY

Oscar was proved wrong first thing in the morning, because as you and him came out to eat breakfast, Thalia was sitting in your spot. “I told you.” You muttered before taking Thalias empty chair.

Oscar whispered something to Theo, who moved over to take Oscar’s seat right after. You looked to him with furrowed brows, a silent request for an explanation. “Told him I’d buy him whatever candy he wanted at the markets today if he swapped with me.” You laughed loudly, a hand on Oscar’s shoulder to stabilize yourself as you doubled over. “You’ll come to regret that decision.” You forewarned.

On the way to the markets, Thalia tried to convince you to let her sit up front with Oscar. The whole time while telling her no, you were glaring at Oscar. He held back a smile at your fierce looks.

But she won one over you when you arrived at the markets. She clung onto Oscar’s hand like it was her lifeline. “Your daughter is stealing my boyfriend.” You muttered to Lia. She laughed before calling her daughter over to her. Thalia reluctantly listened, latching onto her mother’s hand instead.

You took the five year old’s place next to Oscar. “I suppose we should hold hands then.” He whispered close to your ear, gesturing to the intwined fingers of your relatives. “You know, to keep up the act.” He reasoned.

Though truly, a part of Oscar just may have just wanted to hold your hand for the sake of just holding your hand. No act about it.

You peered up at him, eyes widened slightly. “Uh- well- if you don’t have a problem with it.” Oscar smiled at the way you stumbled over your words.

You appreciated the warmth his hand provided. The December air was biting at you with every small gust of wind that blew through. At a particularly strong gust, you instinctively hid your face in Oscar’s chest. You muttered quick and quiet apologies when you noticed. But he didn’t mind one bit.

Theo ran up to the both of you, holding a remote controlled race car in his hands. “Oscar! Can you get me this?!”

Oscar chucked, kneeling down to be closer to eye level. He kept his hand in yours. “Buddy, I thought I said candy.” He was gentle with the kid, careful of his feelings. Theo frowned. “You did but… but Oscar this car is so cool.” He gave Oscar big puppy eyes, pouting his lips.

Oscar held back his laugh, taking care when sliding the toy from Theo’s grasp. “Do you want the car over the candy?” He asked. Theo nodded. Oscar smiled and stood. “Car it is then.” He tousled the boys hair, whose pout was now replaced by a big toothy smile.

“Thank you uncle Oscar!” Theo wrapped his arms around Oscar’s legs. An attempt at a hug. Oscar rubbed his back. “‘Course, kid.”

Theo ran off, joining his parents and sister at a vendor not too far from where you stood.

But your mind was suck on the title he’d given Oscar. And apparently Oscar was thinking about it too, because he bumped your shoulder and teased, “I’m an uncle now, hm? That wasn’t in the agreement.”

Head bowed, you chuckled nervously. “Sorry,”

Oscar smirked. “Don’t apologize. I think it’s cute.” His hand squeezed yours.

The both of you continued on, hand in hand, straying farther from the family. You stopped at a jewelry booth, a pendant catching your eye. On closer inspection, a small gasp left your lips. “Oh, Oscar, look how pretty.” You held the pendant in your empty hand. A small, flower-like shaped charm, a pretty pink color.

“It suits you.” He smiled, gaze jumping from the pendant to you and back. “Uhm, excuse me?” You called for the seller, an older woman. “How much for this?”

“Three hundred.”

“Three… hundred?”

The woman nodded. “Yes, it’s sterling silver and real diamond, just dyed that pretty pink color.”

You couldn’t justify spending that price, so you politely said, “ah maybe another time.”

Oscar frowned at the disappointment in your expression. Three hundred seemed like nothing to him, but he understood the burden it was to you.

His thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of little hands on his. When he looked down, he found Thalia trying to pry his hand from yours. You sighed, and gave him an ‘I told you so’ look. “I’m gonna go take Thalia, and discuss this crush with her.” You whispered close to Oscar’s ear before taking the child and walking off.

Once you were no longer in ear shot, he turned back to the woman. “Excuse me, do you take card?”

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That night at dinner, the conversation made a turn for the worse. Uncle Leni had one two many beers and couldn’t shut his mouth, so when he overheard your conversation, he just had to say something.

Oscar brought up your future, making a light hearted joke about you working in his garage next year. “Do you really think I have a chance? I mean, I did all that interning for McLaren last year and Andrea said he would ‘miss me greatly,’ but that doesn’t guarantee me a job anywhere in the paddock, you know?” You gushed. Oscar smiled at the way your eyes sparked when you spoke with such enthusiasm. He opened his mouth to speak, an encouragement and something about the future on the tip of his tongue.

The words were never spoken.

“I’d be careful with her, boy. She might be using you to get with your boss, and then fuck him for a job.” Leni interrupted. The vulgarity of the accusation had Oscar’s stomach twisting with something vile.

Your expression shaped into a mix of anger and disgust. Oscar watched you cautiously, offering a comforting hand to your knee. You stood abruptly just as his hand made contact. “I’d be careful with that alcohol, Uncle Leni. I think you’re one drink away from liver failure.” You shot back, leaving without letting him get another word in.

Oscar bowed his head, “excuse us,” he said to no one in particular, before turning to your parents and thanking them for the dinner. He cleaned up your plate and his and proceeded to follow you down the hall where you disappeared.

Muffled sobs came from the inside of your shared room. He knocked on the door hesitantly, calling your name in a soft question. “Go away,” your voice broke through your sobs.

But Oscar was persistent. He cared. You couldn’t get rid of him that easily. “I’m coming in.” He said, despite your very clear message.

His footsteps were cautious as he ventured into the room. You were lying on your stomach, sprawled out on the bed, face in a pillow. He was careful when he sat beside you, a hand coming up to rub in comforting circles on your back.

“It’s not fair, Osc.” The use of the nickname spiked his heart rate. He did his best to ignore it, putting his feelings aside for yours. “I know,” he hummed.

Your face emerged from the pillows, eyes already puffy and red. “No you don’t. Because you’re a man and they all love you.”

Oscar bit the inside of his cheek. “Yeah.” There was no point in arguing. He knew you were right. “Come here,” he encouraged, arms outstretched and waiting for your arrival. You drug yourself up, into his arms, lying against his chest.

The white shirt quickly became stained with your tears. Oscar didn’t care. He held you close while you cried. “I hate them.” You choked out. “They all think so little of me, have so little faith in me. Like I’m going to be nothing in life.” You clutched onto the white cloth of his t-shirt. “They talk about me like I’m a fucking prostitute.” Oscar ran a hand through your hair, and you snuggled your face closer to his chest.

Oscar tried to think of something comforting to say, but nothing felt quite right. He decided to pull you closer, instead. “I thought with you here they’d stop, but…” you shook your head. “I’m sorry I brought you all the way out here for nothing.”

“No,” Oscar jumped quickly to sooth your worries. “No you didn’t. I’m happy you asked. I’ve had fun here, with you.”

“You don’t mean that,” you tried to push yourself away from him, but Oscar held tighter. “Yes I do. I- on my life,” you struggled against his hold, desperately trying to rid yourself from the restraints that were his arms. “I promise you I meant it.” He urged, muttering the words close to your ear.

You relaxed at that, a palm coming to rest against his chest. Your tears still flowed freely. “And… and I’m so proud of you, too. And I believe in you more than you can even imagine.” He continued, dull nails scratching idly at your scalp.

You weren’t sure if his words were genuine. That didn’t matter. They were words you needed to hear, even if you had not known it until that very moment.

Oscar continued to keep you in his hold. He offered no more attempts to soothe you other than the hand of his that were tangled in the strands of your hair.

The exact timing you’d fallen asleep was unknown to him. He only realized you left consciousness when he stopped feeling your body shake with sobs and when the rhythmic tensing and relaxing of your hand ceased.

Your breathing had become even, too. Which he only took note of after he carefully laid you down in a more comfortable position.

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THURSDAY

You woke up, the clock informing you it was midday. You shot out of bed. The family was meant to go sledding today, and should have left an hour ago.

The floorboards under your feet creaked loudly as you raced to the living room. You froze upon entering. The only person there was Oscar, sat on the couch, only half watching the show on the television.

He turned at the sound of you approaching, and smiled. “Hey,” he greeted, soft and far too intimate for the current dynamic.

“Where is everyone?”

Oscar looked a bit guilty at the question. “Gone. I told them you weren’t feeling well, and we’d be staying here today.”

You nodded, padding over to round the couch. The cushion beside him became occupied by you. “Is that okay?” He asked, head tilted while he searched your eyes for some emotion. You nodded once more. “Didn’t feel up to it anyway.” You confessed. Then after a moment, “Thank you.”

A smile flickered across Oscar’s lips. “No need to thank me.”

You’d spent the day curled up on the couch together, strangely domestic for two people who had no business being so. Only when it was dark outside did Oscar raise any questions. “How long do they plan on being gone?” It was far past dinner time. 9pm to be exact. Oscar and yourself had already ordered and ate food.

Your head, being on his shoulder, tilts up so your eyes could meet. “They’re out at a restaurant, probably.” You shrugged.

Oscar’s eyes drifted to the window, the glittering snow having caught his eye. He had a sudden childish desire to go play in the fluffy white blankets.

So that’s what you did, before your family returned home.

You hid behind a tree with a tightly packed ball of snow held like a delicate jewel in the palm of your hand. The way your heart raced with anticipation sent a rush through you. Your face hurt, not only from the cold but also from the consistent strain of your muscles used to maintain the permanent smile on your face.

The sound of a snowball hitting the other side of the tree made you jump, but the reaction was quickly followed by a laugh. “Come on! I can’t get you if you’re hid behind a tree!” Oscar complained, but you could hear the smile in his voice.

“Then come get me!” You shouted back. The crunch of snow approaching closed caused you to smile harder. He had no idea what was coming for him.

But then it stopped suddenly. Definitely not close enough to be just on the other side. You peaked around the tree. Oscar stood still, his hands moulding a pile of snow. His brows creased in concentration. So much concentration, that he didn’t even hear the packed snow stress under your feet.

Once close enough, you let the snowball fly from the palm of your hand. It landed right on the side of his face. “Hey!” He laughed.

“That was totally on you. It should not take you that long to make one snow ball.” You teased, nearing closer.

Oscar frowned slightly. “It’s not a snowball,” he twisted his palm to face you. “It’s a heart.”

You stood close to him now. A small extension of your arm, and you’d be touching him. You smiled, soft and small. “It’s cute.” His cheeks were flushed with a light pink. Probably from the cold, you thought.

Careful fingers grabbed ahold of your wrist, twisting it so your palm faced the sky. Silently, Oscar transferred his creation from his palm to your. You chuckled. “Quite the romantic.” You teased once more.

“You more than anyone should know just how romantic I am.” Oscar leaned into the fun banter. You shook your head laughing. “Come on, I want some hot chocolate.” He followed you up the porch and into the house, pausing to wait for you to set his creation on the railing of the deck.

Plain white mugs were all that was in the cabinet, so it’s what you used to hold your hot cocoa. Oscar rummaged in the fridge while you blew into the cup, trying to cool it off. The steam continued to roll off it in heaps.

“Found it!” Oscar cheered, surfacing with a can of whipped cream. “Ah, good idea,” You hummed, holding your mug out to him. The spiral he put on top of your cup was nothing short of perfect.

You hopped up on the kitchen island, while Oscar stood beside you. He laughed at you after you’d taken a sip, his cheeks still colored pink despite the warmer environment inside the cabin.

“You’ve got a little—here, I’ll just get it.” He reached up, fingertips grazing your cheek. His thumb slipped across your upper lip, gathering the whipped cream.

His hand pulled back slightly, a smile on his face while he showed you the reason for his actions. You laughed.

Without thinking, you leaned forward, capturing his thumb between your lips. Oscar went red at the feeling of your tongue swiping against the pad of his thumb while your eyes remained on his. The situation far too sensual.

When your brain finally caught up to you, you jumped back. A hand of yours covered your mouth. “Oh my—I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I mean, obviously I wasn’t but—“ your breath hitched, his hand on your thigh.

“Don’t apologize.” His voice came in hushed whispers. His eyes scattered all around your face, settling for a beat too long on your lips.

The both of you were locked in an intense staring contest, wanting the same thing but too scared to be the one to initiate it.

Oscar’s chest heaved, like the moment was sucking all the oxygen from his lungs. Hesitantly, he reached a hand up to your face. It found its home on your cheek. When you didn’t react, his other hand traveled to your other cheek. Still, you did not move, but he did notice the rate of your breaths had sped up.

He was the one to take the risk. His body found its way between your legs, and he pulled your face down to meet his.

The feeling of his lips against yours was familiar. The feeling that bloomed in your stomach was familiar. The heat between your legs, familiar.

He overrode every one of your senses. Tasted sweet, reminiscent of the cocoa and whipped cream. Smelled of cologne, fresh. Like amber wood, orange, and a hint of vanilla. His hands in your hair and settled at the base of your neck were driving you crazy. His hips rut against the counter, and he released a small groan into your mouth.

The sound of the lock on the door caught your ear. Two hands on his chest, you shoved him away. He stumbled back, but quickly understood when your family funneled through the door. Your face was on fire.

“Feeling better, I see?” Your sister smiled, then her eyes shifted to Oscar. “Nice lip gloss.”

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

FRIDAY

The end of the trip was nearing. It was another relax day in the house, though the kids were far from relaxed. Their giggles were a constant echo through the house along with the patter of their feet.

You’d fallen asleep last night with Oscar’s arms around you, his body moulded perfectly to yours. But when you woke up this morning, the boy was no longer offering the warmth of his body heat to you. In fact, he wasn’t in the bed at all, and the sheets beside you were cold to the touch. He hadn’t been there for awhile.

It was the second day in a row you’d fallen asleep in his arms, and he was no longer there when you woke the next morning.

So it seemed he had a knack for fleeing when things got too intimate.

You swung your legs over the bed. The wooden floors under your feet were as cold as the winter air outside. You quickly shielded yourself with a pair of slippers, and the first hoodie you saw.

Just like yesterday, you found him on the couch. He wasn’t watching one of his shows, but bluey. Your brows were furrowed as you approached. Your eyes answered the question in your mind; Theo and Thalia sat on the carpet in front the television. Theo recklessly drove his new remote controlled car while Thalia played with his hot wheels. A content smile colored Oscar’s expression.

You ruffled his hair, muttering out a, “good morning.” Oscar’s greeting died on the tip of his tongue when he turned his head to find you in his hoodie and tight biker shorts. His throat bobbed as he swallowed harshly. “Morning,” he managed.

The dynamic between you two was different now. A conversation was never held after the events of last night, but the air shifted. An unspoken agreement that you crossed the line as friends but neither of you would dare to venture into the dating territory. You were stuck in a sort of limbo between the two, which meant neither of you knew exactly how to act around the other.

“Oscar, you sound like bluey!” Theo laughed, Thalia joining him. Oscar’s face contorted in amusement, brows raised and a broader smile. “You’ve got a good ear.”

When his eyes searched the room to find you, they landed in the kitchen, the fridge wide open.

You pulled out an avocado, an egg, and a bagel from the pantry. You jumped when you turned around to place them on the island. Oscar was standing with his back to the counter, staring at your every move. “stalker,” you laughed, standing beside him. He remained serious. “We should talk.”

Your body froze. “Where’s the rest of the family?” You asked, gaze focused on the countertop. “Downstairs. Playing pool.” He muttered, a quick glance at the twins. “They’ll be fine for a couple minutes.”

Your eyes met his, an unusual pleading look about them. You nodded. “Yeah. We can step outside.” You motioned towards the back deck.

Out on the deck, you waited for him to speak first, a foot playing with the fluffy white snow to avoid his gaze.

“So… last night,” he began. You shut your eyes, preparing mentally for an awkward conversation. He shook his head, restarting his mini speech. “I’ve tried to move on from you for the last couple of months. It hasn’t really worked and I’ve always had an idea as to why, but last night really solidified it.” His hand on your cheek directed your gaze to his. An uncharacteristically bold move.

His eyes searched yours. For what, you were unsure of. But his gaze burrowed into yours, making you feel light in the head and queasy in the stomach. “I still love you.” He spoke with finality, as if the statement would reign true for the remainder of his life. That’s what it felt like to him.

You gasped out a breath, shaking your head. “It’s not good for us. It didn’t work out. It won’t work out.” Your face, still held in his hands; your eyes, cast anywhere but on him.

He stepped closer. You could feel his body heat now. “It could. You’ll be out of school two months after the season starts, and then you can get a job at McLaren with me-“

“And then I’ll become everything Leni thinks I am.” You interrupted, words quiet.

“No you won’t, because you deserve it. You know it. I know it. Who cares if your drunk, deadbeat uncle thinks otherwise?” You breathed out a laugh, glancing at him for only a moment. “But that’s besides the point. It’ll be just two months with me away and you studying. That’s nothing. We’ve managed longer.”

His pleas were followed by silence, a slight frown, furrowed brows. Wandering eyes landed on the heart-shaped snow ball he carefully crafted for you. “I don’t know,” you spoke, almost too quiet for Oscar to hear.

The small swipe of his thumb against your cheek had your defenses crumbling. “The apartment has felt so empty without you.” He recalled how he continued to look for you in every room, even two weeks after you broke up. A hopeless dream that you’d be standing in the kitchen or sleeping in his bed. Of course, you never were. “Please. Just give me a month.”

The nod came slowly, after a long moment of silence; Oscar’s ears strained for even a breath from you. “A month.” You agreed, a silent pray to whatever god would listen that this wasn’t a horrible mistake.

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

SATURDAY

Your last day at the cabin was spent back at the slopes, Oscar and yourself finally being able to break from the kiddie slopes and enjoy the more exhilarating ones. He’d tried to race you, and when you won, claimed that he slowed on purpose. His whole being exposed his lies, though.

The family ended the night on the couch, watching a Christmas movie, though Christmas was long past. Unfortunately for you and Oscar, you were demoted to sitting on the floor since you were the youngest of the adults.

Oscar didn’t mind. Not when you sat with your body pressed against his. Legs across his lap and head resting in the curve of his neck. He kept one of your hands encased in both of his. He wasn’t even sure what the movie was about. His eyes were hardly on the screen, opting to study you out of the corner of his eye. He felt incredibly lucky to be able to call you his again.

He only realized the movie ended when you looked up at him, laughing at how his eyes were already on you. “How was the movie?” You asked him, a soft smile. He absorbed every bit of it he could. “Amazing.”

Before you went to bed, Oscar pulled out a small box from his suitcase. Your back was turned, fluffing the pillow. He called your name softly. The curious look you gave him was just another thing he was sure to store in his brain for safe keeping.

“What’s that?” You hummed, interested. You stood in front of him now, the box within reach. He lifted the lid and presented it to you, earning a small gasp. “Oscar… that’s too much I can’t take that.” You shook your head, a hand pushing the box into his chest. “I bought it for you. No returns.” His nervous laugh filled the gap of your response.

A tentative hand of your reached for the pendant, the ridges of it gliding over your fingers. You bit the inside of your cheek, deciding there was no use in turning the gift away. “Will you put it on me?” He smiled. Nodded.

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

JUNE

You began working in Oscar’s garage right out of school. Andrea was sure to pick you up before any team even had the opportunity to approach you.

The relationship between you and Oscar was common knowledge within the garage. Your teammates—the other mechanics—treated you no different, other than the occasional teasing about it.

“We agree that if anything is wrong with the car, we blame her, right?” One of the other mechanics joked, gesturing to you. Laughter rang out over the roaring engines.

Of course, once your family got wind of the news, they had something to say. Leni in particular washed up the achievement to be special treatment since you were dating one of their drivers. It didn’t get to you this time, because Oscar reassured you that it was purely based on your skill. His opinion mattered more than your Uncle’s.

Outside of the world of racing, Oscar treated you like an Angel fallen from heaven. Acting like he existed with the sole purpose to service you. It annoyed you at first until you came to the realization that it was out of love. He communicated his love for you through of acts of service. From then on, you cherished it.

#f1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #op81 #f1 angst #f1 x you #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri one shot #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri angst #oscar piastri #oscar piastri fluff #op81 x reader #oscar piastri x reader

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mysoulspiralbound · 7 hours ago

Text

This is great because it's only embarrassingly too much popcorn to Danny. To everyone else, they just summoned an eldritch god in the middle of a fight and he showed up with popcorn. Just floating in the middle of the room, surveying the chaos but saying nothing. And then he throws a handful into his mouth and the cultists are like "should we resume the fight? If this is a show to him we should make this a good one, right?" Meanwhile the JL is kind of half panicked half reassured by the fact that this ghost/demon/god/thing is at the very least only watching, not interfering. Probably still bad that human suffering comes with popcorn, but it's still possible he'll be satisfied when the fight is done?

So the cultists kind of awkwardly resume swinging and the heroes obviously go back to stopping them. Danny can't really leave so... I guess he's just finishing the popcorn until these guys decide who gets to talk to him. Kind of rude to summon him before they're ready and all that, but he's just a little too tired to care and it is kind of cool to be watching a bunch of superheroes and aliens in person. It's probably better than the movie would have been even if he's still mad at the timing.

Danny absolutely is playing favorite though, so when someone jumps at GL from behind he calls out a warning, and when someone manages to land a hit on he thinks it might he Robin? he throws a handful of popcorn at the guy and yells at them to pick on someone their own size.

Good news, Ghost King who brought popcorn to their fight seems to be supporting the heroes. Bad news, the cult isn't really happy about this, and are now trying to win him over with promises of gold, riches, offerings, etc. Good news! Danny does not want offerings. Bad news, he's figured out the cultists are the ones who made the circle, so he's trapped till they strike a deal or the spell wears off.

Eventually the fight's over and the bad guys are all tied up and now the JL is trying to do diplomacy well enough to get this guy to leave peacefully. Danny explains he can only talk to the guy who led the spell, gesturing to someone in the pile of defeated bad guys, but he won't cause any problems if they just break the circle so he can get back home pretty please. They're hesitant because ya know, safety reasons, and ask some questions like, "who are you?" and "what are your thoughts on gladiatorial combat?" and "can we trust you to not start killing people?"

Danny answers honestly, though not detailed, with a type of ghost, ew no, and uhh yeah? which doesn't really help the league. When he realizes they thought the popcorn thing was like, flippant and a godly show of power, he quietly admits he was actually kind of going to see a movie with his living friends. He even made space in his stupid kingly calendar so he'd really like to at least see (he checks his phantom form "ghost powers proof phone) the last five minutes maybe?

At the mention of living friends and a popular current movie title (idk something about half the league has heard about) they realize that King or no, this is still a kid. None of them want to think about how old he must have been when he died. He looks young. Clark rummages through his pockets and finds enough cash for new tickets, more than just one. Clark offers it to the kid, assuming he might not have human money on hand. Danny laughs because Sam actually covered all three of them, and he has to explain that ghost or no if he wants a reserved seat, he needs to actually pay for it. And sure he can occupy someone else's seat but it's super uncomfortable and gross to overlap someone like that. Danny still has half a tub of popcorn though (it was absolutely too much) so he offers to trade it.

Danny offers mostly because the speedsters have been eyeing it, but seeing a maybe 12 year old? try to buy his freedom with a half finished bucket of popcorn kind of breaks down any resolve they have to keep him trapped, even for their own safety. They ask a few more questions, but the kid clearly doesn't want to hurt anyone, and while he describes the fight as "cool as fuck, i mean heck, Mr. Superman" he also freaks out at the implication he might make more ghosts on purpose for the sake of increasing his kingdom.

"Why would I want to do that? I have enough people to be responsible for and even if I didn't, everyone's gotta cross over at some point. Death sucks, I should know, I died. The powers of cool but hot dogs trying to eat you back and ghost hunters trying to kill you is so not worth it. Plus it hurt a fu- heck-ton."

So good news again is that this kid is clearly not a threat, and finally someone's scratched the circle out for him. And he got paid! Not the worst summons he's ever been to, only really loses points for timing. On the other hand the JL just realized the King of Ghosts apparently has a ghost hunter problem, and to make matters worse, he's corrected his own swearing like twice and is meeting up with friends at the movies. This is clearly still a kid mentally, not just physically, no matter how long he's been dead. Hooray for new case files.

So Danny got summoned by a cult the JL failed to stop. Problem, he's a little too hungry to care

I had 2 ideas for this so you can choose which one you want.

Danny had forgotten to eat for like 24 hours when doing ghost king shit, so when he finally got some food and felt himself being pulled into a summoning he decided that whoever it was could deal with him eating, so he grabbed his plate and kept eating. To say the cult and JL were expecting to see a massive eldritch king of ghosts and space sitting cross-legged like a teenager and eating (insert the most random food you wouldn't expect a regal king to eat) would be a lie.

Danny, with food in his mouth: You're the ones who summoned me while I was in the middle of eating, so you get to deal with it.

Danny had forgotten he needed food, again, but just as he was about to sit down to start eating he suddenly got summoned by some random cult. So now he's standing in the middle of a summoning circle that's surrounded by cultists and heroes, but he doesn't care, he's now just disappointed in the world and a little sad.

Danny, looking an ancient god and king of space and terror, in the most pathetic and sad voice: My dino nuggies D:

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #not really sure which of those is the maintag so i just kind of hit all of em'#my writing #been a bit since i rambled on a dcxdp prompt #forgot how fun the cross over fannon is

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atlabeth · 2 days ago

Text

in over my head

masterlist

pairing: spencer reid x fem gideon!reader

summary: between all the arguments, you and spencer begin to understand each other a little bit more.

a/n: wauw.... out of nowhere i wrote 4k words and finished this chapter in one night... god bless spencer reid. i hope you all enjoy. r's cold heart is finally starting to defrost. title from the fray song

wc: 5k

warning(s): arguing, case discussions (stalking, murder, etc), talk of parental neglect, hurt w/o comfort then hurt/comfort. r lowkey freaking out this whole fic. the usual good time

You lean against the wall, trying to keep your breathing as quiet as possible.

You don’t really want Spencer to know you were eavesdropping on him the whole time. You don’t really want him to see the look on your face because he defended you to your dad.

He— he should expect it, shouldn’t he? He’s sitting out in the living room on the phone, and you’re you. It’s only natural you’d listen in on him.

Spencer defended you to your dad— mouthed off to him in very un-Spencer-like fashion.

Why?

From what you’d gathered, he practically worshipped the guy. Even if he didn’t, your dad was still his superior. It didn’t really seem like any kind of good idea to talk back to him.

But he did.

For you.

You thought Spencer merely tolerated you because he had to. You wouldn’t blame him, the way you treated him. So why would he do something like that for you?

You’re jarred out of your thoughts when you hear Spencer say your name. You blink back into yourself to see him standing in front of you, and you feel your face burn.

So much for not being obvious.

“I’m assuming you heard everything?” he asks.

You nod. You have the decency to not insult his intelligence, at least.

“That means we can go over everything,” Spencer says, already starting to walk away. “Come on.”

You frown. You expected him to be mad at you for eavesdropping, or use what he did for you as leverage for something, or— or do anything but act normal.

You shake yourself out of your thoughts once again as you follow him back to the living room. Spencer sits back down on the couch and you tentatively sit across from him.

“I don’t want what I said to scare you,” he says. “Hernandez may be our lead right now, but I doubt it’ll stay that way. Elle and Morgan are going to check him out, and I’ll get another call once they do.”

You blink. Of course he’d expect you to be focused on that part—your stalker, the threat against your life, the whole reason you’re in here. Not Spencer sticking up for you.

“Right,” you say. “Do you think it’s him?”

“Honestly? No.” Spencer sighs and shakes his head. “You heard what I said. He doesn’t fit the profile—he’s a man who made the worst choices of his life when he lost everything. If he’s been released, he might have actually changed. We’re only on him because he’s all we’ve got.”

“…Good,” you say. “Strangling wouldn’t be my top way to go.”

“You need to stop talking like that,” he says.

“I need to stop doing a lot of things,” you respond. “Any idea how much longer we’ll be in here?”

Spencer shakes his head. “We’re here until this case is solved or our cover is blown.”

You huff. “Like if this guy finds us again?”

He nods. “But that shouldn’t happen. Elle, Gideon, Hotch, and Strauss are the only ones who know about this place, and they’re obviously sworn to silence.”

“Strauss?”

“Erin Strauss,” he says. “The BAU’s section chief.”

“Ah.” You realize you’re still holding your mug, now empty, and you lean forward to set it on the table. “What happens if we’re made?”

“You’ve got to stop thinking about the worst case scenarios,” Spencer says. “Pessimism doesn’t just make anxiety, depression, and paranoia worse—it can raise your blood pressure, increase your chance of cardiovascular problems, and mess with your immune system. It’s literally bad for your health.”

“Well, what else am I supposed to do?” you ask. “I’ve got a stalker and we didn’t realize until he’d been watching me for a month. Your team has only got one lead and you don’t even think it’s the right one. That sounds pretty negative to me.”

“We’re still at the beginning of this case,” Spencer says. “It usually takes a few bodies for us to figure out what’s really going on and find the unsub in our regular cases.”

You stare at him, and he seems to realize what he’s actually said.

“Of course, there won’t be any bodies in this case!” he rushes. “You— you’re going to be perfectly fine!”

“You’re really not great at reassurance,” you say wryly as you pick up your cup and stand up, “are you?”

“Homicides only occur in two percent of stalking cases!” Spencer continues, his voice rising as you go into the kitchen. “A- and you might not even be the primary target! If anything, he might be going after your dad!”

By now you’ve finished filling your mug again. You stop at the edge of the hallway when he finishes, leveling a tired look at him.

“Thanks, Spence. That really helps.”

You walk back to your room, and once again, you only close the door halfway to humor his concerns.

If you’d lingered a little longer, you would have been able to see his frown.

“Spence?” he murmurs in confusion.

The rest of the day goes by smoother than you thought it would, largely because Spencer keeps his distance and you don’t fight it.

You busy yourself with more cleaning—you never finished it after your last outburst—and when you finish that, you read. You find Pride and Prejudice in the box of books the BAU provided, and it’s a good distraction. You’d much rather worry about the problems of the Bennets rather than your own.

You end up cooking first, and you offer Spencer some of your pasta when you finish. He initially looks shocked at the olive branch, but you figure you owe him something for all he’s put up with.

You don’t tell him that, of course. You just tell him he has five seconds to make a decision before you finish the rest, and he snaps out of it pretty quickly.

(“I promise I’m capable of cooking,” he says as he spoons a helping into his bowl. “I— I just don’t have much time for it. We’re always out on cases so we go to a lot of restaurants, and I get take-out at home because I get home at ungodly hours.”

“Just shut up and eat your food,” you say. “I don’t need to hear your opening statement.”

“Actually, I wouldn’t call this an opening statement. It’s more of—”

“Oh my god.” You pick up your bowl and walk off. “Goodbye.”

“I think it’s more of a witness testimony!” he calls out.)

A similar thing happens with dinner, where you pull out the old reliable of chicken and rice. Dressed up a bit with some of the vegetables that are somehow already on the verge of going bad, but still the same thing you’ve eaten a million times throughout your life. You don’t really feel like cooking, but you also don’t feel like having to hear Spencer set the smoke alarm again, so you settle for this.

(“You know,” Spencer says as he cuts into a chicken thigh, “I should really be trying everything first. Just in case there’s poison or something.”

You stifle your incredulous laugh. “How would there be poison in anything? You all bought and brought this stuff in.”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. But you can never be too careful.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you say. “I— I think that is the most ridiculous thing you’ve said since I’ve met you.”

“I hope you’re not challenging me,” Spencer says. “Because I can beat it very easily.”)

Between that, he calls out on occasion to make sure you’re still alive. You think it’s stupid, but it seems to ease his mind, so you play along.

He gets a call from your dad late at night, which he then goes on to relay to you—Agents Greenaway and Morgan paid a visit to Adam Hernandez, and they weren’t able to find anything suspicious. Penelope Garcia is going to comb through everything she can find on what he’s done since his release before they officially abandon the lead, but Hernandez is on parole and hasn’t violated it once—he seems to be clean.

You don’t know whether you’re thankful for that or not. On one hand, you want this to be over. Getting lucky on the first suspect would be great. On the other hand, having a face to all of this scares you more than not knowing. You still have the chance to deny that all of this is real, really real—when they find their guy, you can’t do that anymore. There’s actually someone out there that wants to hurt you.

The thought crossed your mind more often than not.

Other than that, he doesn’t really bother you. Another thing where you don’t really know if you’re thankful or not.

It’s close to midnight, and though you haven’t been able to sleep, you’re ready to accept this as another, thankfully non eventful day.

But then there’s a huge flash of lightning, visible even through your closed blinds, followed closely by a deafening crack of thunder, and your whole body freezes up. Your hands stop on the page you were on, and a chill runs all the way through you despite the layers of covers you’re under.

Rain has been pittering against the house for half the night, and you can deal with rain. You can’t deal with thunderstorms.

You let out a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. The absolute last thing you need to do is work yourself into a panic attack and get Spencer involved. You don’t think you could take the embarrassment.

You attempt to go back to your book. You’d just arrived at Mr. Collins’ unsuccessful marriage proposal, but you can hardly focus. It doesn’t help when lightning illuminates your room once again, a clap of thunder sounding even quicker after, and your lamp flickers for a moment. This is actually the last thing you need—for the power to go out.

A knock on your door suddenly sounds, and you nearly jump out of your skin. You’re already on edge and the storm’s just barely started. You hear Spencer call your name and ask if you’re awake, and you clear your throat before you respond.

“What do you want?” You try to keep your voice as level as possible, but it wavers ever so slightly.

“Can I come in?”

You don’t want him to see you like this. “Is there something wrong?”

“It’s the storm,” he says, and he doesn’t wait for you to respond. “I’m coming in.”

You have all of two seconds to make sure you don’t look as pathetic as you feel before Spencer walks in.

He looks like he just got out of bed. He’s wearing a Caltech crewneck and sweatpants, and his glasses are about to fall off his face. His disheveled appearance is in stark contrast to his usual image, with dress pants and button-ups and sweater vests galore. One of his hands clenches around the doorframe, and he uses the other to haphazardly push his glasses up as he sets his eyes on you.

“You need to come back into the living room,” Spencer says.

“And good evening to you too.” You try not to look at him. You’ve learned that’s the best policy when it comes to him and those stupid glasses. “Why?”

“Because there’s a storm going on, and the power’s already flickered,” he says. “I don’t want to lose track of you if it does go out.”

“If the power goes out, we’re in the open out there,” you say. “If you’re so worried about it, you should stay in here.”

You expect a fight, but he just sighs and sits down in the chair across from your bed. “Fine.”

You frown. “That was easy.”

“I don’t feel like fighting with you over every little thing,” he says simply. “You might enjoy it, but I don’t. So I’m trying to take the path of least resistance.”

“That’s no fun,” you say.

“Well, you’re not very fun to be around,” Spencer says. He glances at you for a split second before his gaze goes back to the wall. “So.”

“Well, neither are you!” You don’t mean for your retort to come out so defensively, and you cringe as he looks back at you. It’s impossible to be around profilers without them knowing your every intent. You’d hate to know all the thoughts he’s had about you. “I might turn everything into a fight, but you turn everything into a drag.”

“You’re doing it again,” he says. You expect him to go on, but he leaves it that. You find your brows furrowing deeper.

“And?”

“Maybe if you recognize your patterns, you’ll stop,” he says. “Sometimes people don’t realize they're doing something until it’s pointed out to them.”

You huff. “How many times do I have to tell you not to psychoanalyze me?”

“I don’t choose to do it,” Spencer says. You don’t miss the slight bite behind his words, and it almost makes you smile. As much as he doesn’t want to give you a fight, he can’t really help himself. You tend to bring out the worst in people. “It just happens in my brain automatically.”

“Try to hold back,” you say. “It—”

Your words die in your throat with another crash of thunder, almost simultaneous with the lightning. It shakes the whole house, and you can’t help the full body flinch that wracks you, almost freezing completely. The power flickers again, and then it goes out altogether. You don’t even hold back your groan of annoyance.

“Of course,” you grit out. “Of fucking course.”

“Are you okay?” You look at him despite yourself, and even in the dark you can see the concern in his eyes. It makes your hands clench into fists beneath the sheets.

“Fine,” you mutter. “It doesn’t matter.”

Spencer frowns. “Of course it does.”

You scoff. “No, it doesn’t.”

“Why would it not matter?” he asks incredulously. “You— you’re clearly distressed, and holding it back isn’t helping anyone.”

“Maybe I just like silence.”

“Well, you clearly don’t like storms.”

“How’d you figure that one, genius?” you mutter. You wrap your arms around yourself and pull your knees up to your chest, trying to lessen the sudden chill you feel.

“...Normally, I would give you a real answer,” Spencer says. “But based on the lecture you just gave me—”

“You figured right,” you snap. It only takes a second—and those stupid, soft eyes of his to dart away again—for you to feel… bad.

He sighs and shakes his head as he stands up. “I’m going to get a candle. Stay put.”

You tense as he walks out. Your whole body does, actually. You don’t know what it is about him or those stupid eyes that always manage to skirt out sympathy from you.

You should feel gratified. At the start of this, you wanted to push Spencer to his limits—he’s too nice for his own good, and you wanted him to not only give you a more concrete reason to hate him, but get a reason to hate you back. Then you wouldn’t have to deal with this one-sided rivalry with the apparent saint of the BAU.

But you don’t. You feel bad, and you hate it. You hate it more than any reasonable person should, but then again—you’ve never been reasonable.

Spencer comes back in sooner rather than later, two lit candles in his hands. You can see the on-sale sticker plastered on the side of both, and you suppress a laugh. It’s something so small but so typical.

“One’s vanilla, and one is,” he squints as he shifts it in his hand to read, “beach escape. What does a beach escape even smell like?” He shakes his head, then looks at you. “Which one do you—”

“I’m sorry,” you interrupt. You blurt it out before you can even stop yourself.

This time, it’s Spencer’s turn to frown. His face is illuminated from beneath by the candlelight and it gives him an almost haunting beauty, highlighted with yellow and white along his jawline and cheekbones. The flames are mirrored in the lenses of his glasses. “For what?”

“For snapping.” You almost snap at him again out of instinct, and you let out a long, loose sigh in an effort to try and chill out for once. “Sorry. Again.”

“Oh.” He stands there for a moment holding the two candles, and it could be a laughable sight were you not near consumed with guilt. “Uh— it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Fine,” he says, “it’s not. Which candle do you want?”

“Which one do you want?”

“This isn’t where you have to start the ‘being nice to me’ thing,” Spencer says. “They’re kind of starting to burn my hands.”

“Beach escape,” you say. He nods and sets it on your bedside table, then sits back down in his chair after placing the vanilla one in the window sill.

“You… seem a little pent up,” Spencer says after letting the silence dwell for a beat. His shoulders have relaxed some, not hunched up almost to his ears. Small victories, at least.

“I don’t talk about my emotions much,” you respond in equal fashion. “It’s not really my thing.”

He shrugs. “Why not start now?”

You laugh. “Why would I ever start now?”

“You said it yourself,” he says. “I have a psychology degree. I’m a good listener.”

“You interrupt me all the time to say stuff.”

“You interrupt me all the time too, so I guess we’re even.” Spencer shifts in his chair. “Besides, I can listen when it’s important. And this is.”

You stare at him. He stares back.

He has beautiful eyes even in the dark, and you hate that you can’t deny it. Deep brown like the oaks surrounding this place, that shine like pools of honey in the firelight, that always seem to soften just so when he looks at you.

You break first. You have to look away. You always have to look away.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” you manage. “I was a latchkey kid. Storms happened a lot when I was home alone and they scared me. I guess they still do. Happy?”

“Believe it or not, your pain doesn’t make me happy,” Spencer says.

“I didn’t think it did,” you say, trying your best to snap.

He nods. “So we’re in agreement?”

“I—” you pause, a slight frown creasing your brows. “I guess.”

Spencer nods again, and he leans forward a bit. “Wasn’t that a lot better than fighting with me, getting upset, and isolating yourself?”

You scowl. “Don’t you dare therapize me.”

“It’s hard not to,” Spencer says. “Especially when you seem determined to make our conversations one-sided.”

You scoff. “I do not.”

“You act like talking to me is a physical pain.” He crosses his arms. “You locked yourself in the bathroom last night to avoid talking to me.”

“I locked myself in the bathroom so I wouldn’t lose my mind in front of you,” you say. “Just because I know everything about you doesn’t mean I want you to know everything about me.”

Spencer scoffs. “You don’t know everything about me.”

“My dad talks about you more than you think,” you say. “About your whole team—but especially you.”

“Where am I from?” he asks.

“Vegas,” you say. “He mentions it every time you beat him at cards.”

“That— that doesn’t really matter,” he says. “I know you’re from Fairfax.”

“The worst place in the world,” you say emphatically. You can’t believe you’ve been stuck in NoVa your whole life. “Doesn’t count, though. You’re an FBI agent—you’re supposed to know things like this.”

“So it counts when you know it, but it doesn’t count when I do?” Spencer asks.

You nod. “I’ve heard about Penelope Garcia. I’m more surprised you don’t know everything about me by now.”

“Me too,” he says. “Garcia can find anything. Gideon really did a good j—”

He stops in the middle of his sentence, his eyes widening slightly as he clamps his mouth shut.

“What?” You lean forward, looking him in the eye. “He did a good job doing what?”

“I don’t want to start another argument,” he says.

“Oh, poor you.” You don’t think you could sound more sarcastic if you tried. “You don’t want to hear me talk about my absent father that didn’t have time for me because he was too busy with you.” You glance away. “You don’t know what it feels like.”

“There’s something you don’t know about me then,” Spencer says. “Because I do.”

“Unless your dad’s ignored you all his life in favor of his job and the stray genius he found there, you really don’t.”

“My dad left when I was a kid because he couldn’t deal with my mom’s schizophrenia,” Spencer retorts. His words get you to look right back at him—they’re not overly sharp or exceedingly soft, just matter-of-fact. “I haven’t seen him since. So you’re right—I don’t know exactly what it’s like, but I know a hell of a lot more than you think.”

Regret hits you immediately, sour and spiny as it settles in your chest. You’ve been an asshole to him this whole time, and all along he’s held this inside of him? All along, you’ve been accusing him of stealing your life from you when he’s lost more than you have.

For a moment, you can only stare at him, at a loss for words. He meets your eyes in equal measure. You might know a lot about Spencer Reid, but you’re quickly realizing you don’t know Spencer Reid.

“Guess we’re a lot more similar than you thought,” he says in your silence.

“I’m so sorry, Spencer,” you murmur, finally managing to muster up words. “That’s awful. You didn’t deserve that.”

“No one does,” he shrugs. This time, he’s the one to look away. “But it is what it is.”

“How can you just say that?” you ask. You lean forward, a frown creasing your brows. “How are you not just— just angry all the time? That your dad doesn’t give a fuck about you or your mom?”

“For a while, I was.” He chuckles, but there’s no heart in it. “I was angry at everyone. My dad, my mom, the adults around me— I hated myself most of all. It’s part of the reason I was so good in school. I didn’t want to think about it, I didn’t want to deal with it, so I studied as hard as I could, read as much as humanly possible.” He smiles thinly at nothing in particular. “Turns out I’m very good at avoiding things when I want to.”

You shake your head with a scoff. “You’re a better person than I am. I would have hunted him down by now and given him a piece of my mind.”

“It’s not worth it.” Spencer looks back at you. “He decided he didn’t want to be a part of my life. I’m not going to reward him by letting him ruin it when he’s not even here.”

Is that what you’re doing? Letting your dad ruin your life by letting him occupy every part of it even when he’s not there? He’s influenced every part of your life, every part of you, and he hasn’t been here for half of it. Sometimes you’re surprised he didn’t miss your birth.

Another flash of lightning, another crack of thunder. You tense every muscle in your body to stop yourself from flinching as hard in front of Spencer. You think he notices anyway.

“I’ve been angry at my dad since I was a kid,” you say once you’ve recovered. “He missed my dance recitals and my gymnastics meets and my soccer games, but he signed the checks for all of the payments. He told me to take honors and AP classes and missed the ceremonies for the awards. He was never there for anything that mattered, but—” you laugh again, and you blink back the tears— “but he waited until I was eighteen to get a divorce so I wouldn’t have to deal with a custody battle.”

You bite down hard on your lip to force them back even harder as you look at Spencer. “Isn’t that fucked up? Neither of them have been there for us, but they’ve still shaped every part of us with their absence. We can’t escape it even when they’re not here, because them not being here is what caused it.”

“I refuse to give him that much power,” Spencer says. “My dad left. He chose to leave. He doesn’t want anything to do with me, so I don’t want anything to do with him. I mean, I’m an FBI agent. I work with some of the best profilers in the world. I could find him if I wanted to, but I’m not going to waste my time chasing some pipe dream of a father that doesn’t exist.”

“Your situation is different, though.” Both his eyes and tone soften, and something inside you stirs. “The only break I know Gideon’s taken was that six month medical leave that was practically forced on him. I think it would take an actual, life-threatening injury to get him to take another one. It’s a lot different having someone around and just… being neglected.”

“I’ve just always felt like such an asshole for it,” you mutter. “You all save lives every day. You’ve taken down a thousand sick criminals.” You shake your head with another mirthless laugh. “My dad saves women like me every day, gives them the chance to see their fathers again, and I’m mad at him because— because he won’t meet me for brunch? Because he missed my school band concerts?”

“It’s not that simple,” Spencer says. “It’s never that simple. You don’t need to feel bad for hating him, but you also don’t need to feel bad for loving him, too.”

You scoff. “There you go again with the psychology degree.”

“It’s the truth,” he says. “Just because you feel rightfully angry doesn’t mean you don’t still love him. It’s part of the reason why you’re so conflicted about him.” He gave you a wry smile. “It makes everything a lot more complicated, doesn’t it?”

You shift in your bed. “Far cry from everything you told me before all this started.”

“We see completely different sides of Gideon,” Spencer says. “I’m just… ashamed that it took me so long to believe you about all of it.”

You huff a laugh. “I’m the one that should be ashamed. I thought you had this— this perfect life, with my dad loving you on top of it. That’s why I hated you so much.”

He perks up. “Hated? As in, past tense? As in, you don’t hate me anymore?”

You try to bite back your smile. You barely succeed. “Call it a truce.”

Spencer grins and nudges his glasses back into place once again. “This might be my favorite truce since 1914.”

“Christmas Truce,” you nod. “Good one.”

“You know it?”

“Of course I do,” you say. “I’m a teacher.”

Spencer blinks. “You— you are?”

“Why is that such a surprise?” you ask.

“You’re so…”

“Mean to you?” You chuckle. “Trust me, I’m not like this with my kids. My job is one of the parts of my life that I’m actually happy with.”

“...Huh.” Spencer smiles at you, and you find yourself smiling back, subconsciously. “You should tell me about it sometime.”

“Sure,” you nod. “Maybe you can tell me about everything you do sometime.”

“You’re sure you won’t get bored?” he asks. “You might not realize, but I have a tendency to rant.”

You laugh. “Part of our truce.”

This time, he nods. “Cool. That— that’s cool.”

You roll your eyes as you look away, but your smile betrays you once again. Your gaze snaps over to the lamp as it flickers back on, and you realize you haven’t heard any thunder in a while.

“Looks like the storm’s passed.” Spencer separates two of the window blinds with his fingers and peers through. You’ve never really focused on his hands like you do now—with the way you feel your face burn, it’s probably a good thing. You look away as soon as possible. “Just rain, now.”

“Good,” you say, and you let out a yawn. “All our talking tired me out.”

“Good,” he echoes as he picks his candle up from the window pane. “You should get eight hours of sleep a night, and I know for a fact you don’t.”

You roll your eyes. “Whatever, professor.”

“You’re the teacher here,” he says. “I should be saying that to you.”

“And yet you’re so much more annoying than I could ever be,” you muse.

“Does our truce include this?”

“Naturally.”

Spencer chuckles and shakes his head. He starts walking to the doorway, but you speak up before he can leave.

“Night, Spencer.” You pause as you bite the inside of your lip, then continue before you can stop yourself. “I really enjoyed talking with you.”

He hesitates for a moment, his hand lingering on the doorframe. Then he bids you goodnight in the same fashion, actually saying your name. “I did too.”

It makes your heart skip a beat.

Spencer closes the door behind him, and you find yourself staring at the wood long after he’s gone. You jolt when you finally come back into yourself, and you shake your head to get out of the haze.

You glance at the clock on your bedside table, and blink when you realize it’s almost 1:30. You really do need to get to bed.

The smoke makes you cough as you blow your candle out, and you wave a hand around to dispel it before you turn the lamp off. You lay down and pull the sheets up around you. You end up having to switch positions at least five times before you start to get comfortable.

But the strangest thing is plaguing you despite your restlessness. You were freezing before the storm started, even when the electricity was working, but now there’s a strange warmth attempting to permeate within you. It almost helps you relax.

The room feels a lot smaller without him in it.

You exhale, long, slow, and deep as you close your eyes. The scent of vanilla lingers in the air.

You hope you don’t dream tonight.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #gideon!reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds angst #x reader #sadie writes #anyone that knows anything about george mason knows how upsetting it is that she went there instead of columbia LMAO #literally the most soul sucking commuter school

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themultifanshipper · 2 days ago

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I don’t know if your down but I need more mark webber smut or jenson or even both I just can’t find anything for older divers except seb (don’t get me wrong I love them but fuck I need mark and jenson ones so bad ) also love your fics but the foursome one was next level

After Danica got fired, Jenson hoped there would be no replacement. That he’d be paired up with one of his other SkySports colleagues.

Instead, you showed up. All pretty eyes and bashful glances, and he didn’t know quite what to do with himself.

(Yes that is an old pic of Jenson to which I added a beard, you're welcome)

Warnings: smut, age gap, masturbation, making a sex tape, multiple orgasms, Ted Kravitz being cringe at the end (but that’s why I love him don’t @ me), not proofread

Jenson knew you were always nervous around him. Understandable, given how much disdain he’d shown his previous colleague.

You were incredibly sweet to him, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t immediately smitten with you. Very early on he decided to not get too close to you, for a number of reasons. You were young, definitely too young for him, and he didn’t want to come off as the creepy older colleague infatuated with the woman under his wing, so he kept a reasonable distance.

It didn’t take you long to get used to the job. You were young, but you were incredibly mature. Never distracted, always asked pertinent questions in interviews, and in no time you felt right at home in front of the cameras. A true professional.

Which was more than could be said for what went on inside Jenson’s mind every time he looked at you. He didn’t know how to act around you. He didn’t want to come on too strong or you might get the wrong idea, and he didn't want to scare you off.

Unfortunately, that didn’t translate very well on camera, and just made him look like he didn’t like you at all.

He admired you, in a way, being one of the youngest in the biz. He knew he stared at you way too much, but you didn’t seem to notice.

He was sure everyone else probably noticed, so he decided to stop staring, and instead tried to look as neutral as possible whenever he was around you.

“She’s so much nicer than Danica, I don’t get why Jenson doesn’t seem to like her”

People on twitter didn’t know how to react.

“Why is Jenson looking at her like he wants to run her over with his car 😭”

You would spend quite a lot of time reading tweets about you. Sue you, you wanted to see if you were well received by the fans, knowing full well how critical people could be.

“If Jenson wants to quit his job I’ll gladly take his place if I can be next to her”

And they were half reassuring, half mortifying. Because yes, they seemed to like you, and appreciate you replacing Danica, but you indeed started noticing how Jenson looked at you during interviews.

You had no idea why he didn’t like you. You couldn’t remember doing anything to annoy him, and he sure as hell hadn’t said anything to you whenever you talked to him alone, so why did he look at you like he wanted to run you over?

The actual problem, was that Jenson’s mind wandered. And it wandered into very dangerous territories.

He knew it was wrong, and he knew he should stop it immediately, but something about having forbidden fantasies about his colleague was too exciting to stop.

So when he was feeling particularly riled up, or bored, or whenever he was at home, really, he’d think about you.

About your soft lips that he couldn’t help staring at. About your hands, your delicate fingers wrapped around the microphone while you held it up to whoever you were interviewing.

He thought about those infuriating shirts you wore. They weren’t low cut, but they were tight.

He thought about the time he’d been working out in the hotel gym at night, when you sauntered in, in nothing but a sports bra and tight shorts. He didn’t know whether to be thankful or spiteful of the hot Singaporean weather.

“Oh hi, Jense!” you’d called out cheerfully.

Jenson’s hips stuttered and he came all over his hand at the memory. Damn you and your tendency to give people affectionate nicknames.

Sometimes, when he needed... material, he’d pull up your instagram. You had a few photos on there of you in tight dresses at events, and... some of you at the beach, wearing bathing suits with varying degrees of coverage.

He never lasted long when he pulled those out.

It never took long for the guilt to set in either, gnawing at him while he did his best to go about his business. He knew he had a problem, but he didn’t know what to do about it.

He was in half a mind to quit his job, but even that idea failed him when he saw your sweet sweet face look sad when he’d mentioned his retirement.

So months went by, and you got closer. One could even say you were friends. You got on well, and when you were alone the banter flowed naturally, despite the generational divide. You had the same sense of humour, often jokingly flirting at each other. He called you ‘young lady’, and you called him ‘old man’... and in a way it helped him stay on track, not get too absorbed into the chemistry he had with you.

But the guilt still gnawed, and when the cameras rolled, he put the stick back up his ass and pretended you were nothing more than Danica’s replacement.

Who the fuck decided it was a good idea to race in Vegas, in november?

He felt like he was stuck in a loop. An endless cycle of guilt and pretty eyes and twitter comments.

...

Whoever it was deserves to get their head bashed in, Jenson thought as he huddled against some tyre warmers.

Evening sessions were a nightmare, and they just got colder as the days went on. The tyres may have been cold, but you and Jenson were freezing your proverbial nuts off while you waited for the drivers to get out of their cars after qualifying.

The interviews were fine, but it was clear everyone was just desperate to get back to their hotels to warm themselves up.

Everyone except Jenson, it seemed.

...

You ran into him in the lobby of your hotel when you went down to ask for blankets.

Apparently, the biting cold was fucking with the electricity, so the heating wasn’t great in some of the rooms. And the phones were dead, so you had to go to the lobby if you needed anything.

It was around 2 AM, and Jenson was at the bar having what appeared to be a whiskey on the rocks.

“Jense? What are you doing down here?”

His eyes snapped to you immediately and he sighed.

“Could ask you the same question, young lady.” he chided, and you rolled your eyes.

“The heating’s not working properly so I’m going to ask for blankets” you took a seat on the bar stool next to him “What about you, old man?”

He huffed out a laugh, taking in your polka dot pyjamas peeking out from the fluffy dressing-gown you had on.

“The heating’s completely off in my room. And they’re out of fucking blankets.”

Your face fell, the blankets had been your last hope.

“Shit...” you eyed him as he took another sip. “That’s rough...”

“Yup” he popped the ‘p’ dramatically, fingers wiping at the condensation on the side of his glass.

“And your plan is... to stay here and drink until tomorrow?”

He chuckled. “No, my plan is to drink as many of these bad boys as it takes to not feel the cold anymore, and by that point, I should be slightly happier about being here”

He winked at you and downed the rest of his glass. You knew he wasn’t a fan of Vegas, and neither were you, so it had become a sort of inside joke.

“That’s a terrible plan. It’s better to have company in the cold than drink it away on your own.”

“So... what? Are you going to drink with me?” he chuckled “You going to give an old man some company?” he cringed at his choice of words, the whiskey must have already affected his judgement.

You leaned in closer with a cheeky smile. “No... I’m inviting the old man up to my hotel room.”

Jenson’s brain stalled as he stared at his empty glass.

“I uhh...” he gulped “I’m not sure that’s a good idea”

“Why not? I’m sure we can find some way to keep warm...” you muttered, sliding off your chair.

This couldn’t be happening. Jenson tried to keep his cool while his mind went a million miles an hour. He was just imagining things. You were not flirting with him, it was the whiskey making him interpret your words as something else. You weren’t suggesting-

“If we work together, I bet we’ll be sweating by the end of the night” you purred.

‘Don’t do it Jenson’, his brain supplied, she’s only joking. She doesn’t want you in that way, you’re much too old for her! Don’t throw your career away over-

“Besides, what’s the point of touching yourself to my instagram photos, when the real thing is waiting in the next room.”

Your hand on his thigh made him jump slightly. He turned his head to look at you questionningly.

“You’re not as slick as you think you are” you smiled, fingers brushing against his rapidly growing bulge. “Did you know that when you accidentally like a pic, then unlike it, it still sends me a notification?”

Jenson gritted his teeth, but made no effort to move your hand. “Obviously not, no”

“And did you know” you grinned, movements growing bolder as you rubbed him through his pants “that you’ve liked the same 4 posts about 50 times, and always at night?”

Your body was pressed against his side, and he was basically throbbing under your touch as he tried to keep his composure. “And you seem to really like the ones of me in Bali...”

He tried to choke out an excuse, but you cut him off. “I know you want me...” your faces were inches apart, he was panting against your lips as you teased him. “So come and get me”

You retreated completely, turning on your heel to walk across the lobby. Your heart was beating through your chest at what you’d just done.

You pressed the button for the elevator and waited with bated breath, not daring to turn around.

It felt like an age before the doors finally opened, just as you suddenly felt his presence behind you.

He undid your robe silently and slid a hand into your pyjama pants, and his breath hitched when his fingers came in contact with your wetness.

He quickly pushed you inside, clicking the button to your floor before pressing you against the mirror.

“Fucking hell... you’re soaked”

“Jenson, please” you begged, and he didn’t hesitate to slip a finger inside you, curling it perfectly as you mewled under him.

“Desperate little thing, aren't you?” he cooed, adding another finger.

Your eyes rolled back, breath fogging up the mirror as the obscene sound of his slick fingers filled the small space.

By the time the elevator got to your floor, you were trembling and gasping for air.

You couldn’t keep your hands off each other all the way down the corridor, slamming each other against various walls and probably making a racket while you were at it, but neither of you gave a damn when it felt so good to be touched.

...

Clothes were thrown haphazardly all over the place, and he wasted no time spreading your legs to get a taste of you.

Well, he got more than a taste. He buried his face between your thighs, not once coming up for air as his tongue dragged you to edge of a mind numbing orgasm.

It wasn’t too long before you started to feel the burn of his beard insistently rubbing against your inner thighs as he ate you out with gusto, but his mouth felt so good sucking on your clit, you didn’t care, if anything, it made the sensations more intense.

But he didn’t stop there, he kept going, sliding his fingers into you, that he curled expertly against your g-spot.

His extra years of experience hadn't been wasted, you thought. After all, everyone knew what he was like back in the day... and he certainly knew his way around.

That’s how he got you to your second orgasm of the night, thighs clamping down around his head as your hips bucked against his skilled tongue and fingers.

He crawled over you, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, in which your could taste yourself, and feel your wetness cling to his face. The kiss quickly turned sloppy when your hand went down to stroke his cock, thumbing at the tip to spread his precum around.

“This is definitely better than your holiday in Bali” he groaned and you giggled at the statement.

He lined himself up with your dripping cunt, ready to slide in and make all his fantasies come true, when you suddenly had an idea.

“Wait!” you gasped, pushing him away and looking around wildly. “Where’s your phone?”

“What?” he panted.

“Or mine, either will do” you spotted one of the two on the floor just next to you so you reached down and took it, turning the camera on. It was Jenson's.

“What on earth are you doing?” he asked, hands wandering across your thighs impatiently.

“Giving you some new material” you propped it up on the nightstand and started recording. “Lie down”

You shuffled around until he was laying on his back and you were straddling his hips, his tip poking at your entrance.

“Ready, old man?” you smirked.

He scoffed, swatting your hips. “Have some respect for your elders”

You rolled your eyes playfully and sank down on him.

Despite your earlier orgasms, it was quite a stretch. His girth was enough to get a punched-out groan from you as you took him all the way to the base.

You steadied yourself on his chest and rode him slowly at first, getting used to the feeling of his thick cock splitting you open, then set a faster pace, angling your hips to take him deeper.

“That’s it... bounce on my cock, good girl” he moaned, rolling his hips in time with your thrusts.

You looked like a goddess, towering over him, brows knit together in pleasure and he couldn’t believe this was real. He half assumed this was a whiskey induced wet dream.

One of his hands came up to pinch your nipples, and you squealed at the rough treatment, but it only made you wetter as you picked up the pace of your hips.

His thumb went to circle your clit lazily and you whined, biting your lip at the added intensity of his stimulation on your puffy oversensitive bundle of nerves.

“Jenson” you gasped. You could feel yourself nearing another orgasm, and he felt you tightening around him, so he wrapped a hand around your neck to pull you down for another kiss, and took the opportunity to thrust up into you.

You swore loudly, seeing stars as you came around him while he jackhammered his cock into you, chasing his own high.

You pushed yourself back up, leaning over him to turn his phone off before looking down at his satisfied, dopey smile.

He came inside you with a low growl, bouncing you on his cock a couple more times before releasing his grip on your hip and neck in favour of cupping your face and deepening the kiss.

Your body slumped over his, and you reveled in the absolutely filthy kiss he was giving you while one of his hands travelled to your ass and gave it a harsh squeeze.

“You cold?” you asked, trailing a finger through the sweat on his heaving chest.

“Nope” he panted, grinning at you.

“Up for round two?” you smirked devilishly.

“Definitely” he smiled “Give me a minute though, I’m not in my twenties anymore”

You giggled, finger trailing lower, along the bumps of his toned abs.

“I don’t know... I think you’re pretty fit for an old man” you teased.

“Please don’t call me old man when my cock is inside you”

...

“Helloooo”

The cheery voice of Ted Kravitz interrupted your thoughts while you were having breakfast the next day.

“Hey Ted!” you greeted “What’s up?”

“In my life... not much. How about you? How’s it going with Jenson? Found any common ground yet?”

In the beginning, back when Jenson didn’t speak to you much, you’d struck up a friendship with Ted, and told him about your worries.

“Not much... I still don’t think he likes me very much, to be honest” you sighed.

“Not really. We don’t see each other much outside of the paddock.”

“Really? Nothing more than that?”

He looked at you with a knowing smile. You decided to play stupid.

He snorted.

“Riiiight.... so it wasn’t you two that I saw stumbling through the hallway last night with your hands down each other’s pants... guess it must’ve been somebody else, it was pretty dark, I suppose.”

He smirked, getting up and plucking a donut off your plate.

You were forced to watch him strut off, and almost run into Jenson in the doorway.

Jenson said hello, but Ted just cackled and walked away.

"What was that about?" Jenson asked you, noting your terrified expression as your eyes stayed glued to the door.

"I think we have a problem"

#my thots #jenson thots #jenson button x reader #jenson button smut #jenson button #f1 #formula 1 #request

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svnriseblvdd · 1 day ago

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neighbour! clark kent x new girl! reader

SYNOPSIS: when your car breaks down right as you need to pick up a friend in metropolis, clark offers to give you a ride (not the type you want) and you step up your game.

everyone thank my writer's block, because if not for that, this would never have been as out there as it is. like if i'd released this half a week ago, it would not be anywhere near this level. i still had writer's block while grinding this out, so every question of where to go next was answered with 'make it HORNIER'. and you're welcome.

WARNINGS: mentions of road head, brief palming, accidental crotch grab, innuendo, clark is perpetually horny and shameful (who isn't?), he's still so down bad and needs loving desperately. (someone let this boy get RAILED (that's my job, really, but i promise i've got one more chapter idea before he FUCKS))

part one! part two! part three!

You sigh frustratedly as you lift the hood of your car to try to gauge the problem. Perhaps the problem was that the car was old as hell, just repainted and spruced up a little to give the illusion that it was simply vintage, not a second hand metal bag of parts.

“Everything okay?”

You look up to find Clark coming over. Whether it's good luck or not, you've broken down in front of the Kents house. No family nicer than the Kents exist. It's entirely possible. They're endlessly helpful. The problem, as always, is their gorgeous son.

It's hot out, he's been sweating enough to give him a particular entrancing sheen over his skin. And now you're frustrated for two very different reasons.

“No. Stupid car broke down,” you muttered, chest heaving in a sigh.

Clark’s gaze wanders, against his will. All of a sudden, he’s looking at your chest, the way your breasts have been pushed up by a combination of that gorgeous tank top and probably the bra beneath it. And now he’s thinking about your underwear. You in your underwear and nothing else. You standing in your underwear in front of him, begging for his help once again.

He closes his eyes firmly and looks away, mentally smiting himself. He can’t think about you like that. You’re his neighbour, his friend, and you’re in trouble.

He clears his throat, speaking in the hopes that he can distract himself from the sight of your cleavage and bare legs. “Okay, well, why don't we push it up to the house? We can take a look at it, see if we can get it started again. If not, at least it's not out in the road in the way.”

“Yeah, I guess. Thanks.”

And so the two of you manage to push your crappy car up to the front of the house, where Mr Kent joins you to take a look at it with Clark.

“Good news is, it's totally fixable. Bad news is, you'd need a mechanic to do it. We'll call them and they can tow it from here.”

You sigh, looking at your watch. “Damn it. I'm supposed to pick up my friend from the station in Metropolis in a couple of hours.”

“Well, I can take you in our car,” Clark suggests.

“You'd do that?” You ask, and he nods, charming smile still there. You grin, throwing your arms around his neck in a hug as his arms slide around your waist. “Thank you, Clark, you're a lifesaver.”

Clark can feel as the blush begins to set in. “Yeah, of course. We can get going as soon as you're ready to.”

“I'm ready now, if that's okay?”

“Yeah, absolutely.”

It’s not until you’re in the passenger seat and on the road that either of you speak again. “So, who’s your friend?”

“Just one of the girls from Central City. I told her she could visit once I was settled in. She’s fun, you’ll love her.”

You play with your hair, and it sends a fresh whiff of your scent in Clark’s direction. He doesn’t know if it’s perfume or shampoo, but he knows he’s already addicted. You cross one leg over the other, and fold your arms. Clark glances over, a moment of weakness that he hates himself for. It’s like he wants to punish himself. Something in him that says that if he’s going to think like this, he can go unsatisfied and hurting. It’s not logical. In fact, he knows that looking is the one indulgence he’ll allow himself. A brief glance that he won’t let linger, thoughts he’ll bury as long as possible.

“I’m sorry about your car,” he says, in an attempt to distract himself from your bare legs and accentuated cleavage.

You smile a little. “Don’t worry about it. Thank you for helping.”

“Yeah, don’t mention it.”

“No, really, Clark, thank you,” you say, turning towards him and leaning over the console in the centre, hands resting on it and pushing your breasts up and together. “You’re always there whenever I need you. You’re so good, Clark.” He’s going to explode again. “Really. I can’t thank you enough.”

Yet again, your attempts seem to have been either obliviously ignored or politely rejected, as Clark doesn’t respond to them. Granted, this was one of your more low-key comments, but he hasn’t even glanced at your tits, and they’re right there!

So you decide to double down. Test to see if he’s just oblivious, awkward, or not interested.

One of your hands lands on his thigh. He blinks, but doesn’t look at you. “You’re so helpful, Clark. Always happy to help when I need you. And I always need you. There has to be some way for me to repay you.” Your hand travels further up his thigh. In an ideal world, you’d be giving him road head right now, not halfway to it.

Clark finally looks at you, his cheeks a little flushed, and as he turns his head, his gaze lands right on your chest.

Immediately, though, a car horn sounds, and Clark’s eyes dart back onto the road in time to swerve back into his own lane. The road had been totally empty for a while now, it hadn’t even occurred to him that eventually they had to run into someone.

He blinks heavily. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

You smile, eyes bright with mischief. “For the nearly dying? Or the other thing?”

“Uh, both. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

You giggle. “It’s okay, Clark. Really, you’re fine. More than fine.”

Your hand is still on his upper thigh, a dangerous place. A bump in the road underneath the right front wheel jolts you, and your hand accidentally slips onto Clark’s crotch, applying pressure. His eyes go wide as saucers, a strangled noise barely escaping him before he gets a hold of his vocal cords.

“Oh!” You gasp. “I’m sorry, Clark!”

You pull your hand off, returning to your side of the car. That had slightly ruined your entire plan. It was a total accident. You hadn’t meant to straight up grab the guy. Just tease him a little. Shit.

When you get out of the car at the Metropolis station to go find your friend, Clark takes the opportunity to do some breathing exercises, and uses the cover of his jacket to his advantage, palming at himself to relieve the ache a little for now. He bites the inside of his cheek to suppress the urge to make some sort of sound. He doesn’t know what it’ll be, and he’s alone in the car, but whatever it is, it’ll be embarrassing enough even if he’s the only one to hear it. So instead he just breathes a little irregularly, head tilted back a little against the headrest.

He sees your friend with you as you approach the car again, and he tears his hand away from himself begrudgingly. Your friend has a grin on her face, eyes wide with excitement as you both talk with equal enthusiasm.

You join her in the back this time, probably for the best, but you’re still on the opposite side of the car to him, so he sees you easily in the mirror, and all he needs to do is turn his head a little and let his peripheral vision do the rest.

“Oh, you’re so right,” your friend says, and you shush her despite your giggling.

taglist;

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#muse: clark #smallville clark kent x reader #smallville clark kent #clark kent x reader #clark kent imagine #clark kent smut

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dalazzx · 5 hours ago

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'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*' Warnings. SnowLeopard!Reader x PuppyHybrid!Satoru, size difference, mean!reader, crying, smut '*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

No because I’ve been seeing a lot of SnowLeopard Satoru and I freaking love it but I also love the idea of the roles being reversed!

SnowLeopard!Satoru is still much bigger than you but he isn’t as potent as you, Suguru used to think that in the your relationship Satoru controlled everything but come to find out it’s you who keeps the big man in check.

It’s you who’s pinning Satoru down when you want his fat cock to fill every inch of your cunt, it’s you who’s on top of him, grinding down to make your greedy pussy feel good.

All Satoru can do is sit back and whine loudly while you use him like he’s one of your toys, he won’t say it out loud but right now he preferred if you used your toys, the way you take what you want drives him insane in such a nasty way.

Satoru cries and cries from the overstimulation his cock is facing, when you lift your ass off of him he gets the chance to look at his erect cock and see the mess of mixtures you’ve made, as well as how red his cock is. You slide right back down with no problems, fully enveloping him in your warmth all over again.

SnowLeopard!satoru never gets to take control in the bedroom, nor does he really want to, he likes how you tell him whatever, whenever you want something done. All he has to do is lay back and look pretty.

SnowLeopard!Satoru who’s aggression can really get out of control, you know His species has a bad temper problem, something your baby can’t control, when he does yell at you and realizes what he’s done he’s on his knees, tears in his pretty blue eyes begging for your forgiveness.

But you’ll have none of it.

You jerk him off so roughly that night, ignoring his Loud whines of how much it hurts, if it hurts so badly why is his cute cock spewing out fat droplets of cum, why is he also in the same breath insisting that you tease his fluffy tail?

If it hurts so badly why are his hips bucking up to meet you halfway?

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candyandcyberware · 1 day ago

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Arrested <sr>

pairing: spencer reid x fem!bau!reader

summary: You were arrested for crimes you didn’t commit, and Spencer is worried sick about you.

“I need a lawyer. Preferably you.”

The silence that’s followed by an exasperated sigh on the other end of the line speaks volumes. You’re not a fan of asking for his help either, but desperate times call for desperate measures. He’s the only person you would trust with this, and even though you weren’t happy when he announced he wasn’t coming back, which led to a few passive aggressive conversations he didn’t like, you don’t feel like you have a choice now.

Eventually, he takes a deep breath and goes, “What did you do?”

Of course that’s the first question. Of course he assumes you did something bad, but honestly, you can’t be mad for long. “It turned out I fit the BAU’s profile in a case they are working on while I’m supposed to be on an extended leave, so now I’m sitting in an interview room,” you summarize as you look at the two-way mirror ahead of you.

Spencer is there behind it, watching you, you can feel it. Shortly after you were brought here, after you told them you wanted your lawyer to be present during your questioning, he came in to try to convince you to cooperate, to tell them everything before it became too late. When it was just the two of you, you told him to stop, pointing out that as your boyfriend he should stay away for now. But he was stubborn, you knew that.

“Alright, you’ll tell me the details when I get there,” Hotch says right after you finish talking, and you don’t miss the worry that laces his words. “I know I don’t have to say it, but I will. Don’t talk to anyone without me.”

The next hour or so passes in a blur, because you close everyone out, you don’t tell them anything just as you were told, you barely even look at them. It hurts, sure, because these people are your colleagues, you’ve been working together for years, and having to keep information to yourself seems almost cruel.

But your shiny new lawyer will tell you what to do, he will figure out just how much you can say without running into problems. You’re not keeping information to yourself because you’re guilty, you’re doing that because you don’t have permission to give the BAU the details. It’s that simple. Once Hotch gets the green light for you, you will give them everything they need to know.

The door opens after a long break, but when you look up in hopes of finally seeing the man you’ve been waiting for, you see Spencer there, holding two paper cups in his hand. “I thought you might need some proper coffee,” he says quietly as he walks inside and sets one of them in front of you. With a sigh, you wrap your hands around it, enjoying the warmth, but you can’t look at him, you can’t stand the thought of seeing that look you know he has in his eyes. “So, you really won’t talk to me?”

When he sits down, your gaze moves to his face, and you can only hope he knows you don’t want to hurt him with the silent treatment. It’s not a punishment for him, it’s just something you promised to do for now. Once your name is cleared, you will have more time to talk, and you will sure as hell make it up to him. Before you know it, he slowly moves his hand closer to yours, letting his pointer finger brush your little finger as if it was just an accident. You can’t stop the smile that creeps to your face, and he returns it without hesitation.

Okay, all is good between you.

But then the door opens again, and this time it’s the person you’ve been waiting for. Hotch’s arrival immediately changes the air in the room, his presence commanding your boyfriend’s attention right away. “Reid, I need to talk to her alone,” he says when their eyes meet.

“What are you doing here?”

“He’s gonna be my lawyer,” you respond, sounding a little unsure, as if it was against the rules to have him in this position.

Spencer blinks at you a few times, jaw tightening as he blows out the air through his nose. It pains you to watch him slowly nod and stand up, looking like he’s emotionally on the border of feeling defeated and angry. You know him, you know he loves to solve problems, but this is a problem he cannot solve, not yet. Hopefully, he’ll see that eventually.

While you wait for him to leave, you look down at your right hand and focus on the ring on your middle finger. The delicate white gold piece looks like a snake, with a small green stone representing its eye that is now staring at you in the tense silence. It was a gift from your boyfriend, because he thought it would look better if you had a ring on the finger you showed Derek so often during your usual banters.

Once he leaves, Hotch pulls a chair next to yours and sits down, deliberately choosing to be close to you during the conversation. “I haven’t talked to Prentiss yet, so let’s hear your version of events,” he begins.

Your eyes flicker to the mirror as you take a shaky breath. “Remember Agent Hughes from counterintel?”

He thinks for a moment, but then you see his cautious nod, so you go on. You explain everything; the rough outline of the case he’s working on with his team, the fact he unofficially asked for your help, why you decided to agree and go on a leave to secretly do a few things for him, and the little lie he told Emily about a training that didn’t exist.

The more you tell, the deeper Hotch’s frown grows, and halfway through the story you know you fucked up. You knew the moment Rossi and JJ brought you in, sure, but now the realization hits you like a freight train. You all heard the rumors about counterintel, but there are rumors about every section of the bureau, right? Even about the BAU.

“How many times did I tell you to think before you jump, huh?” he asks, sounding like a parent who’s scolding his child. For a few moments he only watches you, his intense brown eyes burning a hole into your head, but then he shakes his head and leans back in the chair. “I’m gonna talk to Prentiss to see what they have, and this way I can see how your story fits into that.”

You gulp and nod, already having a feeling that the next conversation you’ll have with your boss is gonna be an interesting one. Hotch is like a father to you, him scolding you is nothing new, but Emily? Now, that’s gonna be interesting to see. She’s doing great as the unit chief, you respect her, but something is simply missing.

•••••

Spencer leans against the wall in the small room on the other side of the mirror, watching as you and Hotch discuss something they can’t hear from where they are. He has a bad feeling about this, his instincts are telling him that they’re wrong, but without you talking, all he can rely on is the evidence. And the evidence is loud and clear about your involvement.

Half an hour later, the two of you are still talking, but now he can see the cracks on Hotch’s usual poker face. After all that time spent on his side, he knows what to look for, and now he doesn’t miss the exasperation when he shakes his head and runs a hand over his face.

You are the only one who can get this reaction out of him. Well, maybe he would have gotten the same treatment when he was arrested and sent to prison, but you… You have always been his soft spot. Whatever is the truth, he will fight for you with everything he got, which is a problem if he thinks about the case, but huge luck when he thinks about you.

Then he finally stands up and sends them a meaningful look through the mirror as a sign that he’s ready to talk. Spencer gulps, his fingertips digging into his skin as he waits with his arms folded over his chest. Hotch is hard to read when he doesn’t want you to know what cards he has in his hands, so now he’s trying to focus on you and the way you’re sitting in the room on your own.

You’re playing with your ring, a nervous habit he noticed way before he got it for you, and the sight makes his heart clench. Even though he knows why you refuse to talk to him, the lack of proper communication is getting on his nerves. But at least you smiled when he gave you the coffee, that’s something. As if you could sense he’s thinking about you, you suddenly look up, staring straight in his direction.

“To be honest, I’m not sure whether to be happy or mad that she asked you to be her lawyer,” Emily suddenly speaks up, drawing his attention to the fact they’re not alone anymore.

Hotch lets out a troubled sigh as he looks at you through the glass. “You will need to get a list of everyone who took profiling classes from the team over the years. I know, that’s a lot of people, but try to narrow it down by connecting them to Dylan Hughes,” he says as if he was still the one giving orders to the team.

Spencer doesn’t miss the way Emily opens her mouth for a moment in an attempt to protest, but in the end she decides against it. “From counterintel?” she asks hesitantly.

She gets a nod of confirmation right away. “She says she was working on a case with them. The training she left for is a common excuse to secretly recruit agents from other units to help. They needed a profiler, and sadly, they picked her,” he explains.

“But if she was working with them, then she probably has alibi,” Spencer notes with a hopeful look in his eyes as his gaze moves between the other two.

“Yes, but no. I heard about these training excuses, they would never reveal who worked with them, not even in such cases,” Hotch explains.

He lets out a groan, memories of what happened to him not long ago flooding back in seconds. “So, they would rather let one of theirs go to prison for a crime she didn’t commit?” he asks quietly, although that’s more of a rhetorical question. The answer is obvious, so he’s not surprised that no one responds. “What now?”

Hotch points at the case file on the desk by the mirror. “Prentiss, I need you to tell me what exactly you have that points at her, maybe I can help based on the things she told me. Once we are done, we can go back for a proper interrogation,” he says before turning to Spencer. “Reid, meanwhile she wants to talk to you. Not a word about the case, alright?”

After a curt nod, Spencer lets out a sigh and looks at you again. He hears the door close behind the other two who are most possibly heading to Emily’s office now, but he’s stuck here in this room, suddenly not feeling brave enough to go inside. If you were just another suspect, he would have no problem, especially these days, but it’s you, the love of his life.

When he finally gets himself to move, he grabs a bottle of water and heads to the interview room, wondering what you want to talk about. Something told him you wanted to protect him, that’s why you pushed him away, but he knew you would let him in again after your name was cleared. Yet here he is, about to go in when the investigation is still ongoing. He can’t help but wonder if it was Hotch who convinced you to talk.

••��••

When Spencer steps into the room, your breath catches in your throat, but your heart flutters at the sight. He’s your favorite drug, and being away from him for months while he was in prison only made the high of being together even sweeter. You badly need his company, a hug, or even just a simple touch of your hands. Anything, really. But right now, after he heard at least part of the things you told Hotch, you aren’t sure where you stand exactly.

“Hey,” you say with a shy smile.

The seconds tick by painfully slowly as you wait for him to say something or come closer and sit down. To do anything at all, really. He hasn’t moved since he came in, and you eventually begin to wonder if he even breathes while he waits. Because he’s waiting, you just don’t know what for. You already said the first word to break the ice, to start a conversation, but why isn’t it enough? What else does he need?

You let out a shaky breath while you play with your ring, hoping it can ground you enough to function in his presence. “I’m sorry, Spence,” you mutter under your breath, saying it more to yourself than him.

But he can hear you, at least that’s what the fact he finally takes a seat at the other side tells you. Those hazel eyes you love so much are watching you with a mixture of curiosity and annoyance, and it’s enough to shut your mouth and make you pay attention to him. Now is the time to listen, to hear whatever he wants to tell you, even if he wants to tell you that you’re a terrible person, even if he wants to break up with you.

If you’re lucky, he’a not that mad.

“I hate this,” he finally speaks up as he slowly reaches out to take your hand. “I hate that we haven’t had a proper conversation ever since you were brought in. Hotch asked me not to talk about the case, so fine, I won’t. Let’s talk about us instead.”

Your eyes widen when you hear this, because nothing good ever followed this sentence in the history of mankind. He wants to break up, there’s no other explanation. And why would he stay with you if there’s a chance the team can’t prove your innocence? Maybe this is for the best; there’s no chance to beg or make a scene at a place like this. You’ll have to accept it with grace.

Spencer shakes his head. “You’re doing it again. You’re overthinking,” he points out, and the corners of his mouth curl into a small smile. “I love you, and if you say you’re innocent, I believe you, just like you believed in me after Mexico,” he tells you softly.

A sigh of relief leaves you upon hearing this. “I love you too. I’m really, terribly sorry for the silent treatment. I didn’t do this because I wanted to be rude, I just… I knew what Hotch would tell me.”

“I know.”

“So, you’re not mad?”

As he raises your hand to his lips, your eyes are locked while you have a silent conversation. He’s not mad at all, and you have no reason to worry. He’s not gonna leave, and he knows now that you would have talked if you could. He understands, and despite the confusing circumstances, he stands by your side, no matter what. This lifts a heavy weight from your chest, which gives you the chance to finally take a deep breath.

If your mind hasn’t been in overdrive since you were brought in, you would actually enjoy this moment. If you knew how to prove your innocence, you would chat about your relationship, about what staying by each other’s side in times like this means for the two of you. Because sometimes you have a feeling that you’re stuck. Yes, you’ve been together for three years now, you’ve been living together for a bit over a year, but you never talked about the next step.

Spencer tilts his head to the side as he’s watching you, clearly thinking about saying something that’s there on the tip of his tongue. “You know, there’s something I never told you,” he begins after a long silence. “Remember that ‘pregnancy scare’ a few months ago?”

You nod. Of course you do, those few minutes while you waited for the test were the longest in your life.

“I can’t stop thinking about that. Do you know what I really felt when the test was negative? Disappointment. I think deep down I want a child with you, a perfect mixture of the two of us.”

It takes you by surprise. He never talked about it, he never mentioned that, never even hinted at this. You always assumed he was already worried about inheriting her mother’s problems, so he didn’t want to worry about putting his child at risk too.

You inhale and exhale slowly in an attempt to calm your nerves. “That’s… I don’t know, Spence, with our hectic work schedule, it just doesn’t seem fair to the hypothetical kid. Sure, my parents are here to help, I’m sure they would be happy to babysit, but… I don’t know,” you say, guilt lacing your voice since you have a feeling your reaction will hurt him.

But he doesn’t seem to mind, if anything, he looks understanding. “I know. But here’s the thing. I’m not sure I wanna stay with the BAU forever,” he points out.

“You wanna leave?”

“Eventually, yeah.”

There are no words coming to your mind. What could you say to that? Spencer has been here forever, he’s important to all of you, but you do realize that he went through more than enough during his time here. He can still teach. Or work somewhere else within the FBI, somewhere he would have a proper work schedule. And maybe he will do it sooner rather than later based on the look on his face.

With a nod, you reach out for his hand. “Let’s talk about it when this is over. Right now it seems a little… weird to talk about having kids, when there’s a chance I’m gonna spend the rest of my life in prison,” you tell him.

He draws in a sharp breath before shaking his head. “You won’t. We’ll make sure of that. Just hold on.”

•••••

Four nerve-wracking days later Spencer is pacing the conference room with his hand gripping a chunk of his hair in frustration. The rest of the team is out to check on a lead, one that can finally free you, but Emily wanted him to stay behind, mostly because she could see how frustrated he’d been lately. Now he’s stuck here, checking on his phone every other minute to see if he missed anything.

He wants this nightmare to end, and he honestly can’t imagine how you survived the time he spent in prison. Were you feeling like this the whole time too? It must have been excruciating, so he makes a mental note to talk to you about it once this case is closed and you’re free again.

“They got her,” a familiar voice says behind him. Spencer turns around to find Hotch standing there with a smile, but then he closes the gap between them and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, Prentiss is about to let our girl go.”

To be honest, he feels like crying from the flood of emotions that suddenly wash over him. He wants to break down, he wants to collapse into a chair and just let every single bottled up feeling escape him before he faces you. It’s over. What he feels now is a strong mixture of relief and happiness, and for some weird reason, he ends up laughing.

When the other man’s brows raise in question, he just waves at first. “It’s just… I don’t even know how to explain it,” he admits.

To his surprise, Hotch’s happy smile transforms into one that’s full of warmth, one he probably reserves for Jack usually. “I get it. Now, let’s go there before she walks out without us.”

But Spencer doesn’t wait. He starts jogging to where you’re being kept within the building, thousands of words he wants to say stirring up a storm inside his head, because he can’t decide what to do or say first. It’s been a few days only, but you’re his whole world. He hates to go home into the empty apartment, sleeping alone in the bed, not having the chance to wrap his arm around your body and pull you against his chest.

When he finally reaches the right floor, he comes to a sudden halt the moment his eyes land on you. You’re not in handcuffs, you look okay, and you’re actually laughing at something Penelope told you. This is all he could ask for–for you not to be traumatized like he was after what happened to him.

And then you notice him, and you instantly run over to him, jumping into his arms without waiting to see if he would even catch you. But why wouldn’t he? He’s so focused on you that there is no chance he would let you fall. He kisses you without hesitation, hard and deep, full of emotions, completely ignoring the audience around you.

“Let’s get married,” he says, although it’s not really a suggestion, it’s a statement that it will happen.

You give him a surprised look, but he can see it in your eyes that you’re thinking about it, you’re thinking about agreeing to his plan right here and right now. “Was that a proposal?” you ask with that sweet smile he loves so much.

Instead of answering, he kisses you again, this time taking it slow. “I think it was.”

“Then yes, let’s get married.” Suddenly, the team behind you erupts in cheers, causing you to blush. “Maybe you could have waited until we were alone,” you note, although there’s no scolding edge to your voice.

Spencer cautiously lowers you to the floor and takes your hand. “They would’ve found out anyway,” he says with a shrug.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you

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saraaisfree · 3 days ago

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Hi, I seen your thinking of writing 🙂 and I wanted to send in a suggestion. A friend's to lovers troupe could be cute and he doesn't admit his feelings for the reader bc they are in a relationship but when the reader goes through a breakup, he comes over and comforts them and they end up talking where he confesses his feelings. Just an idea, feel free to write whatever! Can't wait to read it 🤍❤️💙

𝖸𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗆𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝖨’𝗅𝗅 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 || Kwon Ji-Yong/G-Dragon

Summary: After a bad break-up your bestfriend comes over to help you feel better. While emotions are high confessions are made.

(thank you for this suggestion i hope you will enjoy this)

G-Dragon, or as you've always known him, Kwon Ji-Yong, has been your best friend for as long as you can remember. From sharing lunches in kindergarten to late nights helping him write lyrics for his songs, the two of you have been inseparable. Even after his group hit it big, he never left you behind, always trying his best to be there for you no matter what happened.

It was a simple night alone in your apartment. You were waiting for Ji-Yong to finish his dance rehearsal, as you had a movie night planned together. While preparing something to eat, your phone pinged with a message:

“Hey Y/N, I don’t think this is working between us anymore, and quite frankly, I don’t want it to. Also, I found someone else.”

The text came as a shock. You and your boyfriend had been dating for almost a year, and everything seemed to be going so well. You were even considering moving in together soon.

Slowly, you made your way to the couch and began crying softly. Picking up your phone, you texted Ji-Yong: “I think we should cancel tonight. I’m not feeling very well, and I don’t want you to get sick.” It was obviously a lie—you just wanted to be alone.

“Hey, that’s never been a problem before. Did something happen?”

You read his reply but chose not to respond.

Half an hour later, your doorbell rang. Curious, you went to see who it was. There he stood—your best friend—with two takeout bags in his hands and a sad smile on his face.

“Can I please come in? You’ve never canceled on me just because you’re sick. I’m worried about you.”

You knew you couldn’t say no to him, so you let him in. After setting the bags on the table, he joined you on the couch.

“Tell me what happened, Y/N. Please,” he urged.

You didn’t respond verbally; instead, you showed him the text message. He read it a few times, his face darkening. Without saying a word, he wrapped you in his arms.

“He was a dickhead anyway,” he said, a slight edge of anger in his voice. “He didn’t deserve you at all.”

Ji-Yong had always known he liked you—no, he loved you. But by the time he felt ready to say anything, you had already grown too comfortable with him, and he was terrified of ruining your friendship.

He never liked your boyfriends, no matter how much he tried to seem supportive. The idea of another man hugging you, kissing you, waking up next to you—it tore him apart. He wanted to tell you how he felt, to shout it to the world, but he held himself back, afraid.

“I’m really disappointed, but not surprised,” you said softly. “He always said things like that when he was mad, but this? This seems final. I guess you’re right, Ji.” You leaned into him, cuddling closer.

Hearing you call him “Ji” made his heart race. The way it fell from your lips felt like a drug. He wanted to hear it every single day.

“You know I’m here for you, right? Always.”

“I know. Thank you.”

As you finally settled down and drifted off to sleep, Ji-Yong kissed your forehead and fell asleep beside you.

The next morning, you stirred awake in his arms. He pulled you back instinctively. “No, don’t leave yet,” he mumbled, still half asleep, before realizing what he’d said. “Oh, um, I’m sorry about that.”

You smiled. The two of you had cuddled a lot as kids, but as teenagers, it became a rare occurrence. It felt nice to be in his arms again.

“Y/N,” he began hesitantly, “I need to tell you something, and it’s really important. I… I really like you. I always have. If the feeling isn’t mutual, we can pretend I never said anything, but I can’t sit around watching you get hurt by guys who don’t deserve you. It kills me to see you like this. I just… I want a chance to treat you right, to show you that love doesn’t have to be this hard—”

You interrupted him by pressing your lips to his, then resting your forehead against his. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for you to say that” you whispered.

Without hesitation, he pulled you into a passionate kiss, his tongue exploring yours with a hunger he’d suppressed for years.

“I love you so much, L/N Y/N. I always have.”

“I love you too, Kwon Ji-Yong,” you replied.

———————————————————————-

Yooo! First ever fic!! I hope you all like it!!

#g dragon x reader #gdragon #kwon jiyong x reader #kwon jiyong #big bang #kpop #top x reader #fanfic #fluff

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itsrlymine · 22 hours ago

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HIII, it's 🎸💫 anon!

Wow. I feel like I haven't said anything in a quick while. Once you really get yourself involved in manifesting it's wild asf. Recently, I've done alot of things!

Revised my mum's health issues

Unironically manifested an apology from my father. I was thinking about him one day and was like: "Okay it would be totally crazy if he just apologized to me and started to gen see me more often." 'cause family problems are a bitch.😓 BUT—we've been building up my desired relationship finally.

Australian accent. Yes. I'm still lowkey getting used to it but it's not that bad. Only downside is people keep asking me if I'm British, but both works.

Trips being scheduled and planned, because I'm yk kinda rich now😭 (which I find still unbelievable), I'm finally being able to travel way more often and I already have a trip to Japan planned for my next school break.

A motorcycle (Yamaha R7) and a Toyota. Considering that I've wanted a motorcycle for so long but my mum also thinks that I should learn how to drive a stick-shift car first and then I could drive the motorcycle. (Manifesting that I pass driver's ed🙏🏽)

IM GOING TO COACHELLA TO SEE ONE OF MY FAVORITE GROUPS. I tweaked out when my mum said that we were going to go when I showed her that they were on the list. And who knows maybe I'll manifest finding a bf (or gf ngl..) there.😜

Might seem little but buying things for my mum. When I look back, I definitely could never do that before, and she never wanted me to but now she cannot take no for an answer (I just go out and get her smth and she deals with it.)

okay first of all, so many of y'all are going to coachcella like do i need to be there? and fuck yea omg i love this soooooo much for you!! these are so beautiful, i love that you manifested all this amazing shit yes!!! and omg i feel like i be changing my accent sometimes with loa to lmaooo. the motorcycle and toyota???? yea, you ate. trips on trips on tripsssssss

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jakescapes · 3 days ago

Text

𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖'𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕚𝕕𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨. (𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥 1)

pairing: stalker!jake x reader (f)

synopsis: It all started when you met Jake Sim—the campus golden boy everyone adored. Charming, new, and impossible to resist, you quickly become his obsession. But as you fall deeper into his world, you realize the person you're falling for isn’t who he appears to be. And soon, you're trapped in a game you never agreed to play.

warnings: stalking, brief kissing in public, big tit reader, jake is kinda weird, panty sniffing, masturbation (m), light manipulation(?), part 1 is really not that bad tho, lmk if there are any more!

word count: 10.6k

author's note: so like i kinda hate this ㅠㅠ and i wasnt gonna make it into separate parts but i just wanna test the waters with this and see how much attention this will get first if that makes sense. also first time actually writing smut so idk if it sounds awkward, but pls give me any criticism you think needed! ty >.<

part 2 release date: tbd

now playing: mind games by sickick

It all started when you met Jake Sim. He was the campus guy—popular with the girls, adored by the professors, the kind of person everyone gravitated towards, but still had the kind, innocent, and nerdy element to him. If there was a charity event, Jake was organizing it. If someone had tech problems, Jake was fixing them. He had this effortless way of making you feel like you were the center of the world when he spoke to you.

You weren't immune to it, either. As a new freshman, you’d heard his name long before you met him. So when you found yourself at a party a month into your first semester trying not to look out of place, Jake was the last person you expected to notice you.

You weren’t even supposed to be at that party. Crowded rooms filled with loud music and drunk strangers weren’t exactly your thing, but your new friend/roommate Ava insisted. She was the kind of girl who thrived in any social setting, the life of the party, effortlessly magnetic, something you learned the first day you moved into your dorm. With her status as an upperclassman, she knew everyone worth knowing and had declared that you had to go to the “first party of the year” because it was “going to be epic.” So, naturally, she dragged you along.

Now you were nursing a watered-down drink in the corner of a house that smelled like cheap beer and vanilla-scented candles. Ava stood beside you, casually pointing out all the people she deemed “important”—guys and girls she seemed to have endless stories about, whether those memories were good, bad, or in between.

“Oh!” she said suddenly, nudging you with her elbow. “That’s Jake Sim over there. Real nice guy, everybody loves him.”

You followed her gaze across the room. He was leaning against the kitchen counter, talking to a group of people who seemed completely captivated by whatever he was saying. Even from a distance, it was easy to see why. He had that kind of face—sharp jawline, warm smile, the perfect amount of confidence in the way he carried himself. His dark hair pushed back slightly over his forehead, like it had been styled that way on purpose.

You nodded without saying anything.

“You know,” Ava smirked, “I feel like he’s been eyeing you across the room for a while.”

You blinked, startled. “No he hasn’t.”

“Oh, he has. He’s doing that thing guys do where they pretend to listen to the conversation but keep glancing at you like you’re the main event.”

And who’s to say you weren’t the main event? Sure, this was your first official college party and the atmosphere felt a little out of your comfort zone, but it’s not like you spent your whole life as some awkward wallflower. You’re hot and you have what it takes to make men gawk and stop to stare at you on the streets. Even if you were oblivious about it. Even if you didn’t care. Plus you were a new, young face to the campus. And what do college boys with raging hormones love more than some new, hot, fresh meat?

You rolled your eyes, trying to brush it off. I mean, yeah, Jake was cute, but you weren’t going to entertain the idea of him eye fucking you across the room from your very tipsy friend who definitely should take it slow with the alcohol. You came here to accompany your friend, not for some popular boy. And that’s what you were going to do. At least that’s what you told yourself.

You couldn’t help sneaking another glance in his direction. Sure enough, his eyes met yours for probably the hundredth time that night. Your breath caught for half a second as he smiled. Not a quick, polite one, but the kind of cocky and sly smile that made it seem like he knew something you didn’t.

“See?” Ava whispered, “Told you.” Before you could argue, Jake excused himself from his group of drunk friends and started making his way towards you. Your instinct was to bolt, but Ava was quick to grab your arm, holding you in place. “Oh my god, he’s coming over here.”

“Shut up. Don’t make it weird,” you hissed under your breath.

“Me? Never,” she said, but the mischievous glint in her eyes told a different story.

Jake stopped a few feet away, holding a red solo cup in one hand, the other casually tucked into his pocket. “Hey,” he said, his voice so smooth but unassuming that for a second you didn’t know if he was talking to you or Ava, until his eyes eventually met yours. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Jake.”

You hesitated for a moment, your throat dry. But Ava on the other hand, ever the social butterfly, was already beaming with her response. “This is _____. She’s a freshman. And she’s my new roomie.”

“Ah, Jake said, his smile widening as he held out his hand. “Nice to meet you. Freshie huh? Welcome to the chaos. If you ever need a hand settling in, don’t hesitate to ask. I know Ava over here wasn’t exactly the most put-together during her freshman year,” he playfully teased.

Ava rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah yeah, whatever,” she replied in defeat. You could tell they shared some history together, though the details weren’t something you cared to uncover at the moment.

You shook his hand, feeling his strong grip and his overwhelming gaze. “Thanks,” you managed to mumble, your voice quieter than you intended.

Ava, clearly delighted, nudged you again before stepping back. “I’m going to find another drink. You two have fun.” She shot you a not so discreet wink, one Jake clearly noticed. He responded with a low, undeniably attractive chuckle that stirred something inside you, something you knew you shouldn’t be feeling.

And just like that, she was gone, leaving you alone with him.

Jake tilted his head slightly, studying you with an intensity that made you want to fidget. “So, what do you think of the party?”

“It’s… loud.”

He chuckled and you awkwardly laughed in return. “Yeah, not really my scene either,” he admitted. “I was actually about to head out. Want to join me? I know a quieter place where we can talk.”

You hesitated, something about his directness caught you off guard. You’d been in similar situations like this before—situations where boys had tried to talk you into following them to their rooms and the like. Now, you weren’t inexperienced when it came to men, but a one night stand with someone you’ve been conversing with for about 45 seconds didn’t seem like something you were interested in at the moment. But that wasn’t what Jake was implying. You could tell he wasn’t like other guys in the past, the ones who were all too eager to make their intentions clear. There was something different about the way he carried himself.

And something different, there definitely was. But we’ll get to that part later.

Jake was patiently waiting for your response while you contemplated. You looked up at him and he smiled again, that disarming, perfect smile, and for a moment, you forgot why you were even questioning it.

“Sure,” you replied, not realizing then that this was the moment that everything in your life would change.

------------------------------

“So,” you asked, glancing out the window at the quiet streets passing by, “where are we?”

Jake gave you a sideways glance, his hand relaxed on the wheel. “Just a spot I like. It’s nice to get away from all the noise sometimes, don’t you think?” His voice was warm, almost teasing, like he already knew you’d agree.

You nodded, leaning back in your seat. “Yeah, I guess.” The party had been a bit much for your taste, and the idea of some quiet didn’t sound half bad. “Do you come here a lot?”

“Not really, I usually only bring people I actually want to talk to.”

Your cheeks warmed at that, and you looked down at your hands, fumbling with the hem of your dress. “Well, that’s nice of you.”

He chuckled softly. “It’s not about being nice. You just seemed different. Thought it might be worth getting to know you better.”

His words caught you off guard, not knowing whether to take it as a compliment or not, but the way he said them felt so genuine, so effortlessly charming, that you couldn’t help but smile. “Different how?”

He shrugged, his eyes flickering to you briefly before returning to the road. “You’re not like everyone else. You’re not trying too hard, you’re just… you. It’s refreshing.”

Even though it sounded so cliché, he wasn’t lying. It’s not like you were trying to be different. I mean, it wasn’t hard for someone like you to stand out from a crowd of drunk girls, definitely trusting their tiny tops and micro shorts way more than they should, especially at a college party, basking in the attention of young, hungry men. But maybe that’s what they wanted. Maybe they want the recognition, the attention. You don’t. Not because you couldn’t pull it off—you could—but you didn’t care to. You weren’t there for the feeling of lingering eyes on you, and that was obvious to anyone paying close enough attention. And Jake paid attention. Oh, he did for sure. The moment you walked in the room, he noticed the way you carried yourself, not chasing the spotlight like others. And also mostly because you weren’t trying to whore yourself out at every given moment like everyone else, girl or guy. But it intrigued him, igniting a flicker of curiosity and a peculiar intent that he’d never felt before in the back of his mind.

You let out a soft laugh, unsure of how to respond. “Well, thanks, I guess.”

Jake’s grin widened. “Don’t mention it.”

As the car slowed and he turned down a quiet street, you realized you weren’t sure where you were, but the thought barely lingered. Something about the way he spoke made it hard to think too much. It felt easy, almost natural, to trust him. And that was the scariest part.

------------------------------

The door clicked shut behind you, and before you even had a chance to set your bag down, Ava was already perched on her bed, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“So,” she grinned, tucking her legs under her, “how was it?”

“How was what?” you asked, feigning oblivion as you drop your bag onto your chair.

Your roommate groaned dramatically, sitting up straighter on her bed. “The date! You leave me in the middle of a party that you were supposed to be my date for, with the most popular guy on campus!”

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. “It wasn’t a date. We just… hung out.” You tried your best to sound indifferent, but Ava was already grinning.

“Whatever it was, tell me!” she demanded, practically bouncing on her bed.

“It was... nice,” you replied, trying to sound casual as you kicked off your shoes.

“Nice? That’s all I’m getting? Did you guys talk? Do anything?”

“No, we didn’t do anything. And I didn’t want to anyway. He was very respectful.”

“Of course he was,” Ava said, throwing her hands up like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I mean, it’s Jake we’re talking about here. The guy’s practically perfect. Teachers love him, girls worship him, and he still manages to have this whole humble, good-guy image.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “Exactly. Nothing shocking there.”

“Still, I just had a feeling he’d be different with you.”

You froze for a second, glancing at her. “Different? Why?”

“Because I’ve seen how he is with other girls. Trust me, they throw themselves at him all the time, and he’s always so polite about it, but he never seems interested. He doesn’t make the first move. Ever.” She shrugged, as if it were no big deal. “But tonight? He came straight for you.”

You shrugged back, brushing her comment off with a small laugh. “I think you’re reading too much into it. He was just being nice.”

Ava raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but she didn’t push further. And you? You kept brushing it off, like you always did.

------------------------------

As you walked back into your shared room after your nightly shower and routine in the bathroom, you glanced over at Ava. “Hey, by the way… what did Jake mean earlier? You know, when he said you ‘weren’t the most put-together’ during your freshman year?”

She just snorts, clearly unbothered by the memory. “Oh, that. Yeah, I was kind of a hot mess back then. Partied a lot, made some questionable choices. But, hey, isn’t that what college is for?”

You chuckled. Makes complete sense, honestly. “I was just curious. For a second, I thought maybe you two had a thing or something.”

“A thing? Well… kind of.”

Your head snapped up.

She shrugged casually, like she was recounting a minor detail. “There was this one party my freshman year. We were playing spin the bottle, and it landed on Jake. So, yeah, we kissed. Or, well, made out. But only once.”

You blinked, not sure how to respond. “Oh. Uh, okay.”

“It wasn’t a big deal, I swear. It was years ago, and neither of us cared enough to make it weird. It’s not like it’s awkward or anything now. We don’t even bring it up.”

You nodded slowly, trying to process the new information. “Got it. Not jealous or anything,” you muttered, mostly to yourself, though the thought does linger for a second. It’s not like you had any claims on Jake, but… still.

“Good. Because honestly, you and Jake? Totally different vibe. I think it’s cute.”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing your water bottle to avoid letting the conversation stretch any further.

------------------------------

A few days later, Jake was leaned back against the couch in his apartment, a half-empty can of soda resting loosely in his hand. His friends were scattered across the room, voices bouncing off the walls as they talked about the usual—classes, campus drama, upcoming events—but his mind was somewhere else entirely.

“So, what’s with you?” Jay, his closest friend, asked, nudging him with his foot from across the coffee table.

Jake blinked, realizing he’d been quiet for too long. “What?”

“You’ve been zoning out for the past five minutes. Let me guess, girl troubles?”

That got the attention of the others. “Girl troubles? Jake Sim?” Sunghoon chimed in, laughing. “Yeah, right.”

Jake shrugged, pretending to be nonchalant, but the small, almost imperceptible grin tugging at his lips gave him away. “It’s not like that.”

“It’s totally like that,” Jay teased. “C’mon, spill.”

He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “Her name’s _____. I met her at that party the other night.”

“Wait, the one you ditched us for?”

Jake just chuckled and nodded, his gaze dropping to the can in his hand. “Yeah. Her.”

Then Jay let out a low whistle. “Damn, guess I never expected you to be the one to take the lead for once.”

“It’s not about that,” Jake said quickly. “She’s just different. She doesn’t try to stand out, but she does. I don’t know, man. She’s—” He stopped himself, shaking his head with a faint chuckle. “Forget it.”

“No, no, keep going,” Sunghoon pressed, leaning forward. “You’re actually into her, aren’t you?”

Jake didn’t respond, but the way his jaw tensed and his eyes flicked away said enough.

“Wow, well, I mean, good for you, dude. She’s gorgeous. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if half the guys on campus are already trying to get her attention.” Jay implied.

That comment sent an unexpected pang through Jake’s chest. He tried to brush it off, but the thought lingered, other guys noticing you, talking to you, maybe even flirting with you.

“She doesn’t seem like the type to fall for just anyone,” Jake said, though it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself.

“True,” Sunghoon agreed. “But still. She’s new, she’s pretty, and she’s got that whole ‘mystery girl’ vibe going on. Trust me, people are going to notice her.”

Jake forced a laugh, but the unease was already settling in the back of his mind. You didn’t seem like the type to entertain random guys, but the idea of someone else getting too close to you didn’t sit right with him.

The thought stayed with him long after his friends had moved on to another topic. It wasn’t jealousy, he told himself. It was just concern. You were new to campus, probably still finding your footing, and he didn’t want anyone to take advantage of that.

He told himself it was harmless as the idea began to form in his mind. Just checking in on you, making sure you were okay. Not in an overbearing way, of course. You wouldn’t even know. It was just the right thing to do.

And if it gave him peace of mind? Well, that was just a bonus.

That night, Jake sat hunched in front of his glowing PC screen, the only light in his room casting long shadows across his walls. His fingers hovered over the keyboard with an eager sort of precision, scrolling through page after page. What was he looking for? You. Only you.

It wasn’t like him, spending hours like this, completely absorbed in something he couldn’t explain. But there was something about you that was different. Like an itch he couldn’t ignore, let alone resist scratching.

Finding your Instagram hadn’t taken long. A couple of clicks here, a mutual tag there, and suddenly your whole world was laid out before him. Your name. Your face. Your posts. From there, it was a rabbit hole he couldn’t help but dive into. Facebook? Found it. Tumblr? Found it. Pinterest? Of course. Each new profile unlocked a little piece of you, a puzzle he was determined to solve.

Hours passed, and Jake found himself digging deeper, further back into your life than he had any business going. He paused on a blurry group photo from high school, his eyes immediately locking onto you. Awkward braces, a side ponytail, and a shy smile that tugged at something strange in his chest. He chuckled softly to himself, his lips curving into a grin.

“Cute.”

The realization of how long he’d been doing this emerged at the edge of his mind, but he was quick to brush it off. I mean, who doesn’t do this? Everyone stalks their crush. It’s not weird. It’s normal. He was just curious. That’s all.

And yet, even as he closed out one tab and opened another, Jake couldn’t shake the nagging sense that this wasn’t enough. The photos, the posts, the snippets of your life he was piecing together, they still felt distant, impersonal. He wanted more. Needed more.

His hand hovered over the mouse for a moment before he opened Instagram again, pulling up your most recent story. You were out earlier with a friend, walking with a coffee in hand, the city bustling in the background. It was mundane, ordinary. But to him, it was fascinating.

You were almost like an unsolved case to him. Every photo, every caption, every comment was a clue, something to dissect and overanalyze. The way you angled your head in selfies, the way you always seemed to wear rings on your right hand. Did that mean something? Maybe it was just a habit, or maybe it wasn’t. He didn’t know, but the not knowing made him dig deeper. Each little detail was like a breadcrumb leading him further down a path he couldn’t stop following.

It boosted him. Every new discovery sent a thrill rushing through him, like solving the next piece of a complex puzzle. The high school photos, the forgotten Pinterest boards filled with dreamy quotes and wedding décor. He was piecing together a version of you even you didn’t know you’d left behind.

The rational part of him, however, it was there. Buried somewhere, trying to surface, to remind him that this wasn’t normal, that this wasn’t healthy. But the excitement, the adrenaline of knowing so much about you, drowned it out every time. You were fascinating. You were beautiful. And you didn’t even know it, but by leaving that party with him that one night, you were letting him into your world.

It felt intimate. Special. Like he was uncovering the real you, the one hidden behind the edited photos and casual captions. And Jake? Jake couldn’t get enough.

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes flickering to the clock. It was late. Too late to still be sitting here. But he didn’t care. You were under his skin now, in his mind, in his every thought.

And he convinced himself, once again, that this was fine. Perfectly fine. He was just looking. There's nothing wrong with looking.

Right?

He didn’t notice it yet, but he was crossing a line he didn’t realize he was already standing over.

------------------------------

It was a perfectly normal Saturday afternoon. You were at the local grocery store, a basket in hand as you roamed the aisles, debating between two different brands of pasta. The store was buzzing with life. Kids whining for candy, parents arguing over coupons, the hum of soft pop music barely audible over the chatter.

You were zoning out, staring at the shelves, when a familiar voice startled you.

“Hey, fancy seeing you here.”

You turned sharply, and there he was. Jake. Dressed in a simple hoodie and jeans, he looked casual and relaxed, the epitome of “guy next door.”

“Oh. Hey, Jake. What’re you doing here?”

“Grocery shopping, same as you,” he said with a grin. “Though I’ll admit, I didn’t expect to run into you.”

You smiled politely, feeling a little awkward. “Yeah, small world.” And it was then that you realized Jake wasn’t holding a basket or a grocery cart at all. You glanced down at your own, practically overflowing with items, while he stood there empty handed. Maybe he had stopped by to grab something quick.

He glanced at the shelves, his eyes scanning the items before landing back on you. “Pasta night?”

You held up the two boxes in your hands. “Debating between these two. Any recommendations?”

He stepped closer, pretending to study the boxes like it was a life or death decision. “Well, this brand’s sauce clings better,” he said, pointing to one, “but this one’s texture is nicer. Depends on what you’re going for.”

“I didn’t know you were a pasta expert.”

He grinned. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

And for some reason, that stuck with you. You had this feeling that he was being truthful, but not in a good way. Like there was more to that statement than he was letting on, something hidden beneath the surface. A part of you couldn’t ignore the unease creeping up your spine, but his smile was so convincing, that you pushed the thought aside. Maybe you were overthinking it.

You shook your head, putting one box back and dropping the other into your basket. “Good to know. Maybe next time I’ll consult you for my grocery list.”

He chuckled, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than felt necessary. “I’ll hold you to that.”

The two of you ended up walking through the aisles together, Jake casually slipping into conversation as if this wasn’t entirely coincidental. He asked you about your week, made jokes about the odd products on the shelves, and even recommended a snack or two that he claimed was “life-changing.”

It was easy to forget the awkwardness at first, Jake was good at that. He made people feel comfortable, like you were the only person in the room, even if it was just a crowded grocery store.

But as the conversation went on, little things started to feel… off.

Like how he seemed to know exactly what aisle you were heading to next, always a step ahead, grabbing things you hadn’t even noticed. Or how he mentioned a specific brand of matcha you liked, something you didn’t recall ever telling him.

Or when you turned to grab a few more things, and you noticed Jake picking up items—fruits, snacks, even the same brand of shampoo you had chosen—things that seemed oddly familiar to what you were already grabbing. You glanced back down at your basket to where you noticed Jake running out of room, even in his big arms, that he had casually started to place some of his items in your basket, almost absentmindedly.

At first, it was just a few, but then his arms began to overflow with more things. You couldn’t help but notice how he seemed to be running out of room. His hands were awkwardly balancing a few cans, some fruit, and the bottle of shampoo, all piled up like a small tower. It was kind of cute.

"Uh, you might want to grab a basket," you said, eyeing the growing pile in his arms. "I don’t think you’ll fit everything."

Jake looked down at his arms, then back at you with a slight laugh. “Oh, right. Thanks for the reminder.”

He glanced around awkwardly, like it hadn’t even occurred to him.

I mean that was kind of weird, right? The thought lingered, but you brushed it off as you continued your shopping.

And then there was the moment at checkout.

You were unloading your basket onto the conveyor belt when Jake casually reached for the same brand of chocolate you’d grabbed earlier, dropping it into his basket with a small smile.

“What?” he asked when he noticed your raised brow. “You have good taste.”

It was harmless. But the way he casually mirrored your actions, not just then, but from the moment you saw him in the store, you’ve noticed how it seems like he’s not just casually shopping, but actively observing you and somehow always knows what your next move is.

Maybe you’re just being paranoid. It’s getting late after all, the sun is beginning to set and here you are, with a guy you don’t really know all that well. Of course you’re going to be a little on edge. It’s just womanly instincts.

But as you walked out of the store, bags in hand, and saw him heading in the same direction as you—despite you being certain he lived on the other side of campus—that faint unease crept back in.

“Need help carrying those?” he offered, gesturing to your bags.

You shook your head quickly. “No, I’m good. Thanks, though.”

He nodded, still smiling. “Alright. See you around, then.”

And as you started walking away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that his gaze lingered just a little too long, like a predator waiting for the perfect moment to pounce on their prey. It was subtle, but the intensity of his stare made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, even as his smile never wavered. You tried to dismiss it, telling yourself it was probably just your imagination running wild. After all, it’s Jake. Everyone loves him.

------------------------------

"So, Jake asked about you," Ava said casually as she applied her mascara, sitting across the room.

"Wait, what?" you asked, sitting up from your bed. It was 7 a.m. in the morning, and you had just been jolted awake by your roommate’s loud music blasting from the bathroom a few minutes ago.

"Yeah, said something about how he wants to ask you out. Take you on a real nice date. Then end it off with spreading your legs in the back of his car."

You froze, your heart racing in your chest. “Wait, what.”

Your silence was then followed by laughter. "Oh my god! I’m joking!"

You let out a huge sigh of relief, but then you playfully shot her a look. "Ava, do not play with me like that." But honestly, you were kind of serious too.

She shot you a grin, clearly amused. "Oh, come on, you’re so easy to mess with. But seriously, you know you wished I wasn’t joking.”

You rolled your eyes at Ava’s teasing and went back to scrolling on your phone. “Yeah, okay,” you muttered, not giving it much thought.

“He did actually say something about asking you out, though.”

You paused, glancing up at her again. “Are you messing with me?”

She swore up and down, looking completely sincere. “No, I’m telling you the truth. He said he wanted to take you out for a nice date. That’s what he told me.”

“I still don’t buy it.”

“I swear on everything, I’m not lying!” Ava’s voice was insistent now. “So what’s the deal? You gonna go?”

You hesitated, unsure. “I don’t know…”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?’” Ava scoffed, clearly frustrated. “Girl, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Every girl wants a night out with Jake. You’d be crazy not to go.”

You chewed on your lip, contemplating her words. It's not that you wouldn't enjoy going out with Jake, it's just that something about him still unsettled you. You couldn't quite put your finger on it, but there were moments where the way he looked at you, or the way he seemed to know a little too much about you, made you feel like you were under a microscope. It wasn’t overly creepy, but there was an underlying tension that you couldn’t ignore.

Still, you couldn’t deny that you liked his company. He was charming, funny, and his attention was flattering, sometimes even a little intoxicating. But you weren’t sure if it was just his charm that kept you second-guessing those little moments that made you feel off.

“It’s not like that. I mean… he’s nice, and he’s funny, and I enjoy being around him. But, I don’t know. Sometimes, I just feel kind of weird around him. Like, there’s something about him that makes me feel uneasy. It’s like… something’s off.”

Ava tilted her head, unimpressed. “You’re being paranoid. Honestly, I never feel that way around him. He’s always been chill, and I’m sure he’s just trying to make a move on you. Stop second-guessing it, okay?”

You sighed, but Ava wasn’t having it. She was determined to get you to say yes.

And honestly speaking, a part of you wanted to get to know him more too. He definitely knew how to make a girl laugh, and he was great at contributing to conversations. There was an ease to the way he spoke, like he was genuinely interested in whatever you had to say. And you couldn't deny that there was a certain chemistry between you two. He was charming, effortlessly so, and that smile of his? It melted you every time.

You were sure he was a great kisser too. I mean, those plump lips of his didn’t look like they lied. They were always so close, so inviting. The thought of it made your pulse quicken a little, despite yourself.

So, why not let yourself live a little? Everyone around you was practically begging you to take the plunge. Ava was begging you to go and she knows him better then you do, so when she means he's no harm, she can't be lying. You could use a night of fun, a little excitement. It didn’t have to be anything more than that. After all, he was just a guy. It wasn’t like you were doing anything wrong by saying yes, right?

So a few days later, when you saw Jake waiting outside of your class and finally asked you on a date, you had no reason to say no.

------------------------------

So here you were. At the edge of a nice lake surrounded by a cute park. Jake beside you, rambling on about some random topic that, honestly, you weren’t even sure you were fully listening to. He had a way of talking, of keeping the conversation flowing smoothly, making it feel like you were the only two people in the world. His voice was soft, relaxed, and as he gestured with his hands, you couldn’t help but watch the way his muscles flexed under the sleeves of his shirt.

You'd almost forgotten why you were so nervous about meeting up with Jake in the first place. The whole thing felt so natural now, so effortless. His laugh was contagious, his stories engaging, and his presence so easy to enjoy. As the sun started to dip lower in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over everything, you found yourself laughing more than you had in weeks, the worries and uncertainties slipping away.

“So,” you said casually, glancing over at him, “what exactly are you majoring in, by the way?”

Jake smiled, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly, as he looked at you with a glint in his eyes. “I’m in engineering. Tech stuff.” He shrugged like it was no big deal, but you could tell by his tone that he took pride in it. “It’s all about computers, networks, systems, you know? It comes in pretty handy,” he added with a sly wink.

“Handy?”

He chuckled softly. “Yeah. I mean, you never know when a little extra knowledge can be useful. You’d be surprised at how helpful it is until you need it,” he said, his eyes narrowing slightly as if implying something more, but before you could react, he eventually changed the subject.

You wandered the park, your footsteps light, side by side, as you talked about everything and nothing. The air was crisp and refreshing, and the sounds of the nearby water and chirping birds only added to the peaceful vibe. The awkward tension you'd felt in previous encounters with Jake was now a distant memory.

But as the sky darkened, and the park became quieter, something shifted between the two of you. It wasn’t anything obvious, but there was this electricity in the air that hadn’t been there before. It was like everything had led to this moment.

You both stopped by the water, your shoes crunching against the gravel path as you looked out over the lake. The soft waves lapping at the shore reflected the dimming sky, and for a moment, the world around you felt suspended in time. Jake leaned a little closer, his arm brushing against yours as he turned to face you.

"I’m glad we did this," he murmured, his voice soft, almost too sincere.

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the summer evening air. "Me too."

And then, without warning, Jake’s hand cupped your cheek, and he kissed you. It was gentle at first, just a soft press of lips, and it shocked you definitely, but you melted into it, letting go of any lingering hesitation. His lips were warm, his touch delicate, and for that brief moment, you forgot about everything—forgot about the nagging thoughts that had been chasing you all day.

But then, suddenly, the kiss deepened. His hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss turned more urgent, more demanding. His lips were now on yours with an intensity that surprised you, and before you knew it, you were pressed up against him, his body a solid wall against yours. His hand gripped your hips so tight that it sent your mind into a frenzy as he groaned loudly against your lips.

You pulled away for a split second, your heart racing. "Jake... we’re in public," you whispered, your voice shaking slightly.

But he didn’t stop. Instead, he kissed you even harder and took this opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth, his hands now reaching further and further down your waist, pulling you towards him. The world around you felt blurry, as if you were floating in a bubble of his touch, and for a moment, you forgot where you were, who you were with—forgot about everything except him.

But then reality came crashing back in seconds. You broke free from the kiss, taking a step back, your breath coming fast. "Jake," you said, voice shaky, "we’re outside. There are other people around." You glanced around nervously, your eyes darting over the now dark park, thankful that no one was nearby but still aware that you were far from alone.

Jake just looked at you, his expression still soft but with a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. "Oh, sorry. I’ve just been really wanting to do that," he said casually, like it was no big deal.

You weren’t sure how to feel about his nonchalance, but you tried to dismiss it, even though a knot formed in your stomach. "Right," you muttered, taking a breath to calm yourself.

For a moment, the air between you both felt charged, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe things were moving faster than you were ready for. But as Jake stepped back with a small grin, his eyes still warm, you felt yourself ease back into the moment, convincing yourself it was just him being... well, Jake. Charming, spontaneous, and maybe a little bit too eager.

So, when he grabbed you by the arm with a playful grin and said, “Come on, I know this great dessert place,” practically dragging you along with him, you told yourself this was just Jake’s way of showing he cared. You told yourself there was no harm in it. Jake was just spirited, maybe a little intense, but in a charming way. That’s all it was.

The rest of the night went smoothly enough, or at least it seemed like it. You talked and laughed some more, and by the time Jake dropped you off in front of your dorm, you found yourself in a bit of a daze. The streetlights cast long shadows, but all you could focus on was the lingering feeling from earlier. The kiss—the intensity of it, the way he didn’t seem to care about where he was or who might see. You’d been caught up in the moment, but now that it was over, that uneasy knot was back in your stomach.

"Thanks for tonight," you said, your voice a little quieter than you intended as you unbuckled your seatbelt.

Jake turned to look at you, his eyes soft, almost too sincere. "Anytime. Let me know when you want to do this again."

"Yeah, I will." You hesitated for a second, unsure if you should say more, but then the words just seemed to evaporate. Instead, you opened the door, stepping out and giving him a small wave as you walked up to your apartment.

As you entered the building, your thoughts kept circling back to that kiss, to his lack of concern about where you were or who might be watching. You’d had fun, no doubt, but there was a part of you that couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

You tried to push the thoughts aside, telling yourself you were overthinking it. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe he was just that kind of guy. But the unease in your chest only grew heavier as you walked to your room, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you were starting to see him for who he really was.

------------------------------

You and Jake had started hanging out more and more after that date, and you couldn't deny it, you were falling for him more than you expected. Sure, sometimes he did stuff that made you question things, but he wasn’t perfect. So what?

Today, you were studying for some upcoming exams at the school library. The space was quiet, and even though you were focused on your work, you enjoyed having him there. Jake had brought you both coffee and snacks, and the atmosphere felt warm and cozy. You were sitting across from each other, the constant clicking of keyboards the only sound in the otherwise still room. It was a perfect setting, relaxed, comfortable, and you found his presence quite calming. It only felt natural.

“One sec, I’ll be right back. I have to use the bathroom,” you announced, getting up from your chair.

Jake didn’t say anything and just nodded, his eyes still glued to his screen, focused on whatever was on his laptop. But as soon as your back was turned and you were walking away, Jake’s attention shifted.

His eyes landed on your bag, which was slung over the back of the chair next to where you were just sitting a few moments ago. The handle of your tote peeked out from the side, and something shiny caught his eye. It was your keyring. The familiar silver glint of your room key sat half-hidden inside your bag. You must’ve forgotten to tuck it deeper, but it was unmistakable.

Jake’s gaze lingered on it for a moment longer than usual. He looked around, ensuring no one was watching, before reaching over with careful fingers. The motion was almost imperceptible, but he slid the key out of your bag, letting them rest lightly in his palm. He checked the surrounding area once again. No one was looking.

His pulse quickened just a little, the thrill of the action sinking in. You were gone, out of sight, leaving him with this small window of opportunity.

He looked at the keys. They weren’t just any keys—they were a way in.

Jake sat there for a moment, the keys tucked securely in his pocket, a sense of satisfaction bubbling in his chest. He knew it was a little risky, but it was too perfect to pass up.

He glanced around again, making sure no one had seen. This wasn’t some spur-of-the-moment decision—he’d considered this before, the idea quietly simmering in the back of his mind.

He’d thought about sneaking into your room before, just out of curiosity (or so he told himself). But he never quite figured out how he’d do it without raising suspicion. The idea had first occurred to him a while back when he submitted a 3D-printed model of a robot for his tech project. It wasn’t just a cool demonstration of precision, it was proof of how easy it would be to replicate almost anything if he had the right dimensions.

Now, with your keys in his possession, that idle thought from a while ago clicked into place. The perfect way to turn a passing fantasy into something tangible.

It wasn’t like it would be hard to replicate the keys. After all, he was an engineering major. He had the skills. The tools. The knowledge. With the advanced tech available to him, specifically his access to the 3D printers in the lab, replicating those keys would be a breeze. The thought was almost laughable. No one would be the wiser.

The more he thought about it, the more the plan excited him. He could “find” the real key after he made the spare, casually give it back to you later, and look like the hero. The savior. You’d think he was just looking out for you, a kind guy who happened to stumble across your lost key. The hero who went the extra mile to return something precious.

And you’d never know he’d taken it in the first place. Hell, you might even think it was a sweet gesture.

A small, almost smug smile crept onto his face as he imagined it. He liked the idea of being the guy who could fix everything for you, who could always be the one to make things right. In your eyes, he'd be the one who cared, who was always there for you, just the kind of guy you'd want to be with.

The plan felt so natural, so flawless. He didn’t even feel guilty. It was for you, after all. It wasn’t like he was doing anything wrong. Just helping you out in the best way possible. It would only bring him closer to you, make you appreciate him even more.

You came back from the bathroom a few minutes later, the library air still cool and comforting as you settled back into your seat. Lost in your own thoughts, you picked up where you left off in your study notes. The soft clicking of your laptop keys and the rustling of paper were the only sounds filling the space between you and Jake. It wasn’t until you stood up to gather your things, ready to head out, that you noticed something was off.

You dug through your bag, feeling around for your keys, the ones you’d left in there earlier. But they weren’t there.

You froze for a second, your eyes scanning the table and the chair you’d been sitting in. It was only then that you realized they weren’t in your bag at all.

“What?” you muttered, frowning as you scanned the surface of the table. “Where did I put my keys? Jake, have you seen them?”

He was already standing up and grabbing his things by the time, pausing for a second and giving you a slight shrug. “No, haven’t seen them,” he said, as he put on his best “confused” face, sounding completely genuine. “You’re sure you put them in there?”

You nodded, trying not to panic. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Well, if they’re not in your bag, maybe you forgot to bring them. They’re probably somewhere in your room still. I’m sure they’ll turn up.”

There was a little panic in your voice as you started to shuffle through your things. “But I could’ve sworn I left them right here…”

“You don’t have a backup key or something?”

You sighed, realizing you hadn’t thought this through. “No. It’s fine though, Ava’s home. She can let me in. I’ll just buy a new one later.”

Jake smiled a little wider, his mind already running through possibilities, but he kept his tone light. “Alright, guess that works.”

You still seemed a little confused, but the moment passed. You dropped the subject and started talking about something else while you two were getting ready to leave. But Jake could tell—you were distracted now, just a little bit. He’d planted the seed. Maybe you’d brush it off, or maybe you wouldn’t. Either way, he was confident it would only matter if he wanted it to.

When you both walked out of the library building, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the campus, Jake slipped his bag over his shoulder and turned to you with an easy smile.

“So, I think I’m going to head home and get some rest,” Jake said.

You nodded, still rummaging through your bag, trying to keep your mind off the missing keys. “Yeah, same. I’ll probably head home too.”

"Sure thing. Have a good night."

“Night.”

Then you walked away, completely unaware of the keys now nestled in his pocket, Jake’s expression shifted. That easygoing smile lingered, but there was a sharpness in his eyes, a focus. He wasn’t heading home, not yet, anyway.

Instead, he made his way across campus to the engineering building. The hallways were mostly empty at this hour, the hum of the fluorescent lights echoing faintly. Jake swiped his student ID at the lab room door, stepping inside to the familiar scent of metal and machinery. The quiet whir of the 3D printers waiting in the corner greeted him, and he felt a surge of anticipation.

Pulling your keys out of his pocket, he set them down on the workstation. His fingers worked intently with great focus as he measured and scanned the key, inputting the data into the design software. The model on the screen was precise, the ridges and cuts an exact match to the original.

As the printer came to life, Jake leaned back in his chair, a faint grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. By the time the printer finished its work, the replica key was indistinguishable from the original. Jake inspected it carefully, his mind already running through how he’d “find” your keys and return them to you, playing the part of the helpful friend. You’d never suspect a thing.

Pocketing both the original and the replica, Jake left the lab, the grin still lingering on his face as he made his way home.

------------------------------

The next day, Jake managed to find you after class. “Hey, look what I found at the bottom of my laptop bag,” he said, holding up your keys with a triumphant smile.

Your eyes lit up as you recognized them. “Oh my god, no way.”

“Yeah, guess you must’ve accidentally dropped them into my bag instead of yours. Good thing I noticed before it got buried under all my stuff.”

You let out a relieved sigh, taking the keys from him. “Seriously, you’re a lifesaver. I was about to go buy a new one.”

Jake chuckled, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Well, glad I could spare you the hassle. So… are you free today? Thought maybe we could grab some food or something.”

You gave him an apologetic smile. “Oh, sorry. Me and Ava already made plans. We’re going shopping downtown, actually.”

For a brief second, Jake’s expression faltered, feeling disappointed. But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by a soft smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Oh, no worries. You two have fun.”

He hesitated for a moment, then added, “What time are you heading out? Just curious.”

“Uh, probably around noon,” you said, shrugging.

“I see. Cool. Anyway, have fun. Maybe we can hang out later this week.”

You smiled and nodded before heading off, completely unaware of the shift in Jake’s demeanor as you walked away. If you were going to be gone for hours, that left him with the perfect opportunity.

------------------------------

Jake’s heart raced as he stood in front of your door. This was it. He had thought about this moment so many times in his mind, playing out every detail, and now, with your absence leaving him a window of opportunity, he was finally here. He double and triple checked the address that he dug for for hours online and made sure he was at the right place. Now, he couldn’t shake the feeling of excitement mixed with a strange sense of calm. It was a risk for sure, he knew that, but for some reason, the thought of being in your space, of having access to the things that were uniquely yours, felt almost...right.

You had just left with Ava, heading to the subway station. He knew because he was watching. He had to be sure you were completely gone before he made any moves. But now, he could finally do what he had been waiting to do for so long.

Slowly, he pulled the replica key from his pocket, his fingers trembling with a mixture of excitement and disbelief. He aligned it with the lock and turned it, the soft click echoing in the silence. It was almost euphoric. The moment his ears caught the sound, he felt his breath catch in his throat. The sound of success, of having everything perfectly fall into place.

Jake breathed a sigh of relief, though he couldn’t place why. Was it the thrill of it all, the forbidden nature of what he was doing, or just the satisfaction of knowing he had outsmarted you? He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that his body was finally moving, his heart pounding as he pushed the door open ever so slowly, just a crack. Then the gap widened just a bit until it fully swung open, and it revealed your shared apartment, the space you inhabited. His eyes scanned the layout, taking in the unfamiliar sights, the small and intimate details that made this place unmistakably yours.

It was small but cozy, with a cluttered bookshelf lining one wall and a comfy couch facing a tv. A coffee table sat in the middle, a few magazines scattered on top, and beside it, a worn-out rug that had clearly seen better days. The kitchen area was visible in the corner, neat but not pristine, just lived in enough to feel real. He could see the faint light coming in from the windows, the sun still high, casting long shadows across the hardwood floor. And then, one of the bedroom doors was slightly ajar—he couldn't help but notice it. Could that door be yours?

Just the thought of going into your room made the region below in his pants twitch. But he could get to that in a moment.

He stood frozen, his gaze sweeping across your private sanctuary. He could hardly believe it. This was your space, your life, and he had made it.

His thoughts swirled in a hazy mix of excitement, guilt, and something darker. He knew he had to move quickly. You’d be back before long. So, he manned up and finally took a step inside. His feet felt heavy, like they were sinking into the floor as he closed the door behind him with a soft click.

Jake froze again. The weight of what he’d just done settled on him in that brief moment of stillness. But then, just as quickly, the urge to explore, to be a part of your world, surged forward. He stepped further into the living room, his hand brushing along the arm of your couch, lingering as though he could feel the traces of you still there.

He looked around, breathing in the air, and a small smile tugged at his lips. This was his opportunity. This was his chance to get even closer to you, to understand you in ways you’d never suspect. He wanted to leave his mark here, in this space where you were supposed to feel safe and in control.

His eyes drifted to the small table beside the window, a few personal items scattered across it. There he saw some books you had mentioned reading in past conversations with him.

He looked even further. Soft blankets littered the couch as Jake bent down to smell them. Some didn’t smell like you, him inferring they were mostly used by Ava. But the others smelled so strong he felt like you were practically there beside him. He spent a good while just inhaling the aroma of you, reminiscing the scent, until he finally snapped out of it.

Jake’s gaze shifted toward the bedroom doors again, but this time he didn’t linger. He hastily made his way over to them. There were two doors across from each other, and Jake’s heart picked up speed as he walked toward the one on the right. He opened it slowly, his breath catching as he stepped inside. The room felt familiar, but not quite right. He scanned the walls, noting the framed photos of Ava and a few other girls, laughing and posing together, but no sign of you. The realization hit him: this wasn’t your room.

Without hesitation, he moved to the door on the left, his mind racing with anticipation. As he pushed it open, a wave of relief washed over him. This was it. This was the space that had been calling to him in the back of his mind, the space that felt like it was meant to be his, even though he hadn't been invited.

Your room.

The first thing he noticed was the soft glow from a string of fairy lights hanging across the ceiling. The room was cozy, warm, comforting, even. A faint scent of pumpkin spice lingered in the air, almost like it was designed just for you. His gaze swept across the space, taking in the details with a sharp, almost clinical eye. There was a bed pushed against the far wall, with a soft, pastel comforter neatly arranged, and a small desk cluttered with books, papers, and a laptop. He rummaged through them, but was careful enough not to make it seem like your stuff was being messed with. There were assignments, drawings you made, and a few other things, but ultimately, he started to get uninterested.

So he got up and delved further into your room, heart hammering in his chest, as he moved to your dresser, glancing at the things you had left behind—lip balm, a few stray earrings, a bottle of perfume. His fingers lingered over the objects, each one feeling like a piece of you that he could claim.

Jake could feel the weight of it—the tension, the thrill—this was more than just curiosity now. This was ownership. It was like stepping into your world and realizing, for the first time, that he could be a part of it in ways no one else could. No one else was here. No one else had access like he did.

He opened every single drawer of your dresser, inspecting every single article of clothing you owned. Including the ones he’d seen you wear frequently and ones you’ve seemingly barely touched. He noted your dark grey hoodie that you seemed to live in basically, but also noticed your more scandalous and sexy pieces, wondering why you never put those on for him in the past? One by one, he searched through your dresser from top to bottom. Then he reached the last and final drawer and as he was sliding it open, it never dawned on him what clothes it would occupy until it was fully opened.

Panties. Tons and tons of panties.

Jake froze.

He just sat there, staring.

And staring.

But as much as he enjoyed looking, he was eventually slowly reaching in the pile of stacked underwear and grabbing as many as he could.

He brought them up to his face, inhaling the foreign scents of your undergarments. These were obviously your clean pile, but Jake was so focused on what he possessed in the moment, he didn't seem to care. But then, a familiar throbbing in his jeans began to emerge at this point, however, he was still too focused on the many pieces of fabric in full display right below his very own eyes. He then began to look around more. He noticed most of them were thongs. Some cotton, some laced. Some had cute patterns on them; bows, for example. And some were more mature, with dark red or black lacy fabric.

There were bras too. He didn't ignore those.

Now, one thing about you is that you know how to cover yourself up, especially in the upcoming colder seasons. So, when Jake saw your bras tucked away in the back of the drawer and pulled one out, you could say he was shocked at the least, to see it was pretty much big enough to be at least a C cup.

This realization made his cock even more excited, now to the point where he couldn't hold himself back any longer. Jake then immediately unbuckled his jeans as fast as he could, ripping off the buttons in seconds, until he shoved his pants down, right under his ass where he could finally access his poor, frustrated dick, in desperate need of attention.

He pulled it out of his boxer briefs in haste and groaned at the sight. It was red. Angry red, and bulging out in full length already, right in front of him. He gripped it tightly and let out a hiss in pain. But it was a good pain.

His eyes trailed down from the bottom all the way to the top, noticing his veins protruding out even more than they usually do.

Sure, he's jerked off to the thought of you (or pictures of you) countless times before. But now, that he's here—in your room—with full and complete access to your bras and panties, his dick simply just can't take it.

But it will. Jake needs it to.

So, he started moving his hand up and down slowly at first, getting used to this new uncomfortable feeling, until his cock finally calmed down. Jake threw his head back, eyes shutting tight, mouth open in a silent moan. He tried imagining in his head what you would like wearing just your bra and panties. What would you wear for the first time with him? Would you put on something sexy and alluring? Or would you go more cute and innocent? All the thoughts were turning him on too much.

He looked back down at your drawer and spotted a laced baby pink thong peeking out through the bottom of the pile. With no hesitation, Jake immediately grabbed it, looping it onto his dick while he continued to jerk himself off.

The now added friction of the cloth made his cock even harder at this point, which he didn't know was even possible. But after minutes (that seemed like hours), his hand began to grow tired and cramped up, trying so had to release, yet subconsciously edging himself every time he was about to. With a groan full of exhaustion, he momentarily stopped, giving his hand a quick break. He let out a short gasp of air, panting with adrenaline.

But when he glanced down to his still very hard and throbbing cock with your cute little panties wrapped around it, he grabbed it again, this time even harsher.

"Come on, come on," he muttered to himself, frustrated, with furrowed eyebrows. He shut his eyes tight again, imagining himself pounding into your tiny little cunt. He wondered if you wouldn't be able to take it—the thought of you struggling to fit it in all the way. He liked that idea a lot. He would kiss your forehead, tell you he would go slow. And then he would ram himself into you, giving you no time to adjust.

But then he wondered if maybe you'd surprise him, and turn out to be a cock slut, riding it so well, like a beast. He groaned at the thought of it, speeding up his hand even more, gripping his cock even harder. The idea of you bouncing relentlessly, not giving his dick a break until he came inside of you, which sounded just too good to be true. Would you grab your big ass tits and squeeze them right in front of his face? Would they bounce uncontrollably as you rode him like there was no tomorrow?

"Yeah, just like that. Don't stop," he basically whispered to himself in bliss, his imagination getting the best of him. "Fuck, I'm so close baby," he whimpered.

And just like that, he was coming undone. Right then and there, unleashing his load onto your carpeted floor with seemingly, no care in the world.

He laid there, panting out of exhaustion. After he caught his breath, he smiled to himself, a dark, satisfied grin that tugged at the corners of his lips.

He could hear the faint sound of traffic outside, the world continuing without a clue about what he was doing inside these walls. His fingers traced over your cum filled panties once more, and grabbing more from your drawer, each item feeling like a new possibility—a piece of you he could add to his collection.

For a moment, he couldn't shake the feeling of victory. It was as if the world was his, and everything he'd been waiting for was finally within his grasp.

But just as the saying goes, good things never last. And just as quickly as the euphoria had flooded him, the sound of your front door squeaking open shattered the calm, and his eyes widened in fear.

#enha x reader #jake fanfic #jake sim smut #enhypen #jake sim fic #jake sim #jake fic #jake hard thoughts #jake hard hours #jake x reader #sim jake #sim jake amut #jake sim smau #yandere jake sim #stalker yandere

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nephilimeq · 11 hours ago

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Oh, Tommy absolutely put Buck on a pedestal! He sees him as this guy who was able to bring home a boyfriend to his friends and nobody questioned it even though he had never dated a guy before. He's dating someone who has a support system around him, the kind that Tommy always wished he could have.

Seeing that support system makes Tommy think that Buck is doing a lot better than he really is, and I think that's also another reason why Tommy felt safe enough to break up with him because Buck has all these friends and family that will rally around him and he'll recover and he'll find someone else. It didn't once occur to him that buck loves Tommy and that he didn't care that Tommy was his first queer relationship, the only thing he cared about was that he was finally in a relationship that he was allowed to be himself in and be accepted.

Every other relationship that Buck has been in he has been treated in an almost childlike manner, being slightly patronized by his partners for his deep research dives and long rambles, versus Tommy who absolutely loved it and indulged him. Buck felt safe!

It's because Buck felt safe that he was able to be himself, and because he was able to be himself Tommy ended up accidentally putting him onto a pedestal thinking that this guy has the best luck in the world even when the crappiest things happened to him, me leaving isn't going to be that big of a problem. Tommy genuinely thinks that buck is too good for him and I just feel so bad for him.

Do you ever think that maybe it was Tommy who put Buck on a pedestal and not the other way around?

I'm pretty sure Buck was aware of what Tommy was like under Gerrard for example. He also knows from his own experience how exhausting and difficult it is to work on yourself. When he said he admired Tommy I'm almost certain he didn't mean "I admire you because you are perfect", but "I admire you because I can only imagine what it must've taken for you to get here." He didn't do a great job communicating his thoughts and feelings, but especially after the Abby reveal he probably knew that Tommy isn't all sugar and spice.

And Tommy on the other hand built Buck up as this sweet, happy-go-lucky person - too good, too pure for this world - who may be incredibly kind but also a little naive and who at the end of the day deserves better than him. But like. Tommy, my guy. Buck also has shit going on and skeletons in his closet. You're not ruining his picture-perfect life by being a human around him.

#911 abc #bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #tevan #if not endgame why endgame shaped?#there is so much trauma there to explore #Tommy deserves the world #Buck is the world #they deserve each other

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tikosblogg · 2 days ago

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Hii, I saw that you wanted to get requests and I just got one. Reader is going through tough times and having the problem that everytime she comes home, she just goes to bed and falls asleep for hours and wakes up in the evening. Noah notices this and that she's more closed off, more tired and wants to help her. I like your works, they're well written. Hope you're doing well❤️❤️

Sorry this one took a bit. This one means a lot to me, because sadly I can relate. I’ve been going through this for the last few months, so in a weird way if felt nice to write.

ANYTHING>HUMAN

*Pic from tumblr*

Warning: talks of depression, anxiety.

A/N: plz enjoy, this pic is so cute, I had to use it.

The slam of the front door echoed through the apartment, a familiar, hollow sound that seemed to mock the silence that had become my constant companion. I leaned against the cool wood, the weight of the day already crushing me. It wasn’t a particularly bad day, not really. Just…empty. Like a hollow shell of a day. I kicked off my shoes, letting them fall where they may, and trudged towards the bedroom. My limbs felt heavy, each step an effort. The pull of the mattress was magnetic; a silent promise of oblivion.

I didn’t bother with changing, just collapsed onto the bed, face down, still in my work clothes. The soft material of the sheets offered a small comfort, just enough to let go. And then, as always, sleep claimed me, pulling me into a void where problems ceased to exist, at least for a little while.

The next thing I knew, the room was bathed in the soft, orange glow of the setting sun. My head felt groggy, my mouth dry. I blinked up at the ceiling, disoriented, trying to piece together the last few hours. Or, more accurately, the absence of them. It was always the same. Come home, sleep, wake up, and the day was practically gone.

I dragged myself out of bed, the weight in my heart a constant, dull ache. The smell of cooking food wafted from the kitchen, the aroma of something savory, something that spoke of care. Noah. I’d forgotten he was even here. Again.

He was standing at the stove, his back to me, a canvas of tattoos stretching across his broad shoulders. Even in the dim light, I could see the intricate patterns, the way they moved and shifted with his every motion. He was a force of nature, all 6’3” of inked skin and quiet strength. He turned, brown eyes meeting mine, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Hey baby” he said softly, his voice a low rumble that always managed to settle some of the chaos in my head. “You were out for hours.”

I shrugged, running a hand through my tangled hair. “I was tired.” My voice sounded flat, even to my own ears.

“Tired?” He placed the spatula down, leaning against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest. The casual pose couldn’t hide the concern etched on his face. “Or…something else?”

He knew me too well, always had. We’d been friends since forever, a bond forged in the fires of high school awkwardness and late-night talks. He’d seen me at my best and my worst, the exuberant and the insecure. We finally became official, right after high school. But lately, the quiet and the defeated had been winning.

I looked away, focusing on the worn wooden floorboards. “I don’t know,” I mumbled, the words catching in my throat. It was getting harder and harder to articulate what was going on inside. It felt like a storm brewing, a constant churn of anxiety and exhaustion that was slowly suffocating me.

He took a step closer, his presence filling the space, his warmth a comforting balm against the coldness that had settled around me. “Y/N,” he said, his voice gentle, “you’ve been doing this every day for weeks. You come home, you sleep, you wake up, and the day’s gone. You barely eat, you barely talk. You’re like… fading.”

That word hit hard. Fading. It was exactly how I felt. Like the edges of me were blurring, the vibrant colors of my life slowly turning to muted shades of gray.

“I’m just stressed,” I offered weakly, picking at a nonexistent thread on my t-shirt. “Work’s been hard.”

He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “I know you better than that, Y/N. Work has always been hard, but you’ve always been… well, you. You’ve always bounced back. But this…this is different. You’re not yourself.”

The truth in his words was like a punch to the gut. He was right. I wasn’t myself. I felt like a stranger in my own skin.

“I just…” I trailed off, unable to articulate the jumbled mess of emotions swirling within me. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, threatening to spill. I just wanted to disappear, to curl up and let the world pass me by.

He closed the distance between us, his big hands coming to rest on my hips. I could feel the strength beneath his touch, a grounding anchor in the sea of my turmoil. “look at me,” he said softly, tilting my chin up so I was forced to meet his gaze. "It’s okay to not be okay, you know? It’s okay to need help.”

His words, spoken with such quiet conviction, resonated with a power I hadn’t expected. Maybe it was okay, maybe I didn’t have to carry this burden alone.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” I whispered, the tears finally escaping and tracing hot paths down my cheeks. "I just feel so… lost.”

He pulled me into a hug, his arms wrapping around me, holding me close. It was a familiar comfort, a safety net I hadn't realized I needed so desperately…home. “I’m here baby,” he murmured into my hair, his voice a soothing balm. “I’m not going anywhere.”

We stood there for a long moment, just holding each other, the silence broken only by the soft sounds of my sobs. Slowly, the tension in my body began to ease, replaced by a fragile sense of calm.

“Come on,” he said, pulling back slightly. He wiped the tears from my face with the pad of his thumb. “Let’s eat. And then… maybe we can talk? Or we can just sit in silence. Whatever you need.”

He didn’t push, didn’t demand, just offered a hand, a lifeline. And for the first time in a long time, I found myself taking it.

We ate dinner in a comfortable silence, the taste of the food warming me from the inside out. It wasn't a miracle cure, by any means. The darkness still lingered, but it felt a little less overwhelming, a little less suffocating. After we finished, we moved to the living room, settling on the couch.

He spread out in the corner of the plush couch, stretching his arms towards me, beckoning me to lay on his chest. Without a word I did so. He wrapped one arm around my waist, while his other hand ran through my hair. “So,” he began, his voice calm and steady, “is there anything you want to talk about?”

I looked down, picking at the hem of his t-shirt. “It’s just… everything feels hard. Like I’m wading through mud. I try to keep up, but I’m always falling behind. Work, life… it all just feels like too much.”

He listened patiently, his attention never wavering, his presence a silent reassurance. As I spoke, the words tumbled out, a tangled mess of anxieties and insecurities. I told him about the constant feeling of inadequacy, the relentless pressure I felt to measure up, the way the simple act of getting out of bed felt like a monumental task.

He didn't interrupt, didn't offer platitudes or quick fixes. He simply listened, letting me vent, letting me express the emotions that I had been carrying for so long. When I was done, he reached out and took my hand, his fingers lacing with mine.

“Thank you, for telling me baby,” he said softly. “It takes courage to be vulnerable like that, to let someone see the parts of you that feel broken.”

He turned my hand over, tracing the lines on my palm with his thumb. “You’re not broken, Y/N,” he said, meeting my eyes. “You’re just… hurting. And that’s okay. It doesn’t make you less of a person. And you don't have to carry it alone. We'll figure this out. Together.”

His words were like a balm to my wounded soul. I wasn’t as alone as I thought. Maybe things could get better. I looked up at him, his familiar face a beacon of hope in the darkness. He leaned down placing a soft kiss to my forehead, nose, and then a long lingering kiss to my lips And for the first time in what felt like forever, a tiny seed of hope began to sprout in my heart. It wasn't a cure, not even really a solution. But it felt like a start. And right now, a start was everything.

#noah sebastian #bad omens #badomensimagines #noahsebastiancult #bad omens cult #imagines #bad omens band

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tonysbed · 1 day ago

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Secrets I keep | Part 7

Lando Norris x sister!reader

Daniel Riccardo x norris!reader

Max Fewtrell x norris!reader

summary: You and Max have been dancing around your feelings for years but jealousy gets the best of us all..

series masterlist | previous | next

max - max verstappen

max - max fewtrell (applies anytime these two are in the same scenario)

still not proofread 🤌

liked by kellypiquet, maxverstappen1, charlesleclerc and 839.539 others

yn your favourite gossip girls are back in town ☕️🎀

*tagged kellypiquet, alexandrasaintmleux, franciscagomez*

kellypiquet ❤️❤️

alexandrasaintmleux best time 🩷

franciscagomez xoxo gossip girl 🫡

user omg, all four? the tea is piping HOT

user girl gotta update on Daniel 👀

user let us innnnnn

user kelly’s look, oh she knows EVERYTHING

user i mean she was THERE

user true, forgot about that 😂

pierregasly can you stop stealing our girlfriends 24/7?

yn how about no?

charlesleclerc is like to spent time with mine too..

maxverstappen1 Feel like i’m third wheeling my own relationship.

yn you got Daniel to entertain you

Danielriccardo 😁

yn you literally are that emoji

danielriccardo that’s why I used it 😁🤍

yn 🤔🤔

After you had explained everything that had happened, Kika and Alex stared at you. “So..you’re dating Daniel now?”

“No, we haven’t really talked about it. I mean, he just got here. And I only sat on his lap” Kelly snorts “Just sat on his lap? Be so for real” “I have!” “Yeah, and all the looks, the leaning on shoulder, hooking your arm in his? Ring a bell? Or all the laughing around?” Kelly raised her eyebrows.

“Okay, Okay. But we still haven’t labelled us” You say, blush creeping up your face “Finally free from Fewtrell” Alex mumbles and sips her drink. Kelly looks at her “So I was right! You had a thing for Fewtrell!” Kelly says “Oh come on! First kika now you! Was it really that obvious?”

“The looks? Absolutely. You also tried to stay close to him, even tho it enden in pure bickering” Kelly chuckled “Oh my gosh. Okay we’re moving on.” You all laugh “No problem with that” Alex says.

“Are you gonna talk to Daniel?” “Everything at its time Kiks, okay? I’m not planning to marry him tomorrow.” “Oh to bad, I already picked out my outfit” She said sarcastically.

“Now but you gotta update us” Kelly says smiling “I will. And you’re there all the time. He’s literally here for max not me” Kelly chuckled “Sure. Keep telling yourself that” “He told me!” “Oh you sweet innocent girl” Kelly pats you on the head “Hey!”

You swatted her hand away “I won’t argue that he came for You and Max. But just for max? Definitely not.” “Fine.”

“How about we go out tonight. All of us?” Kelly asked. Max nods in agreement “Sure” You nod, laying on daniel’s chest, who also nods “I wanna try out that one new restaurant charles was seen opening, how about that?” Max asked “Ohhh yes!” You clap your hands.

“How about we invite Lando?” Daniel asked unsure “You sure?” “I think it’s good if they see each other again” Max says, which kelly agrees to “Okay. Max would you text him, my phone is over there and I don’t want to” The dutchman rolls his eyes but does it either way.

“He’s bringing Fewtrell tho” Max says after a few minutes. You look at Daniel who looks at you “Don’t worry. We’ll sit all between you.” Max says laughing “Why don’t we invite everyone” You say laughing “I mean, sure” Max shrugs “That was sarcasm Max” You say, eyebrows raised “yeah yeah”

Kelly picked up your phone and gave it to you “It keeps getting notifications” You groan “Oh, it’s kika. She’s asking if we’ve got time today. They’re going out with Charles and Alex”

“I mean we could all go then?” Max asked. You nod and text Kika “She said it’s fine. Can you tell Lando?” Max sighs and nods.

f1gossip

102.639 likes

f1gossip Several F1 drivers (+ Daniel and Max Fewtrell) and their girlfriends have been seen out together last night! Yn Norris and Riccardo were seated together and he kissed her temple. Later on a quite calm conversation was picked up by Lando and Daniel, so all is fine between the former teammates!

user now we just need confirmation from Yn or daniel

user I don’t wanna know what kind of chaos this was haha

user What did they tell charles that he looks so shocked?😭

user Alex also looks like someone just dropped a bomb 😭

user Landan yessss

Daniel’s hand was resting on your thigh, his tumb softly caressing you. You look at Kika, who smirks at you. You roll your eyes “I have a question” Charles says, setting down his fork and knife.

“What’s wrong?” Pierre asked “Nothing really wrong. But when did that happen?” He points between you and Daniel. Your eyes widen and look at Alex. She slaps his arm “Charles!” “What? It’s a legitimate question!” “Shut it” She hissed.

Kelly and Kika try to stifle their laugh while you look at Daniel. He just shrugs at you and leans closer to you “Just let him talk. You know he’s a gossip. Wouldn’t be surprised if he’s running a gossip page” You chuckle at his words.

Lando eyes you both for a moment when Max nudges him “Either talk to them or leave them alone but don’t stare holes into them. She has every right to do what she wants. And just be glad it’s someone you know. Imagine she would be with some dickhead”

Lando sighs and nods “Yeah, you’re right. I shouldn’t be mad about it. I mean I’m not really mad. She told me, but did it have to be one of my friends?” “You didn’t care about that a few weeks ago.”

“I know I know, but still. It’s weird to see” “No, its new. He’s treating her right, I promise. Should’ve seen them with us in the last few days.” Max chuckled “You know him good. He won’t overstep” Lando nods “You’re right” “When am I not”

“When you’re arguing with Kelly” You chime into the conversation and smile at Max. He rolls his eyes and Kelly high fives you across the table.

Daniel chuckled and kissed your temple. You smile momentarily but meet Max’s glare and your smile fell. Alexandra watches you two and sends max a warning glare. He looks away quickly and keeps his attention on his plate.

The whole evening went rather smoothly after that. Lando didn’t drop any comments, Fewtrell kept his mouth shut and everyone had a great time.

At one point Lando and Daniel had sat together and talked. After a good half an hour, they shared a hug and Daniel came back to you.

You sipped your cocktail “He hasn’t killed you I see” He chuckled “No he hasn’t. Just gave me the typical older brother speech.” He said, pulling you into his side and smiling at you “Well, that’s Lando” Daniel nodded.

“So? What have you guys all been doing recently?” Pierre asked enthusiastically. Kika rolled her eyes smiling.

“Not much honestly. A lot of rest and a bit of skiing” Max said. Kelly nods “With me being so close to my due date, I hardly believe we would be doing much” She chuckled and he agreed.

Everyone answers around the same thing. Resting and a bit of vacation. Pierre now looks at you “I mean, I was in dubai with Lando, and then just meeting my friends and this idiot flew over here.” You nudge daniel who laughs “Idiot? Now that is not the way to treat your visitors!”

“My visitor? You’re here with Max, not me!” You chuckle “You flew over for him, no?” You raise an eyebrow. Max now looks at him playful expectantly “Yeah daniel, you’re here for me” Max says, crossing his arms.

Daniel rolls his eyes “Yeah yeah” You smile at him “You replaced max with me, that’s not very nice” You say in a scolding way but can’t hide your smirk.

“You’re impossible” “Then why is your arm still around me?” You raise an eyebrow, still smiling. He pulls his arm away and crossed them in front of his chest “Well, I guess I will be cold to you tonight, Norris” You shrug “Alright.”

Daniel looks at you shocked “Now that’s mean” “Mean? No.” You turn to Kika “Hey you” You say in a flirty tone. She tries to stifle her laughter “Hey” “You here often?” You wiggle your eyebrows at her, which she bursts out laughing at.

Pierre glares at you “That my girlfriend, you know” Kika turns to him “Do I know you?” Pierre sits up straight “Lando, keep your sister away from our girlfriends!”

Lando raises his hands “Not my problem.” He says with a smile “She’s my sister not my kid” You nod in agreement.

Daniel pulls you into his side again “Now, stop stealing his girlfriend. He’s about to burst, look at him” Daniel chuckled “Riccardo.” Pierre warns “Gaslyyyy” He smiles.

Pierre huffs “Pff.” Kika laughs and pulls Pierre’s head to her to his cheek. Her lipstick stains his cheek “See? All yours you drama queen” She laughs.

“Yeah yeah” He says but wraps his arm around her.

It was already past midnight when all of you part ways. You hook your arm into Daniel’s, who waves Max goodbye. For the night, you two decided Daniel would sleep at your apartment.

“You know, I’m surprised Lando hasn’t said anything tonight” You look at daniel. He nods “I mean, I talked to him and all but it was kinda weird. There were so many moments for a comment. He didn’t take one opportunity.” You nod “I’m not complaining tho.”

He laughs “Definitely not. Not after the past weeks” You hum, looking at your feet. Daniel turns to you “Have we had a few to many cocktails with Kika?” You shake your head “Just trying not to fall. These are new heels”

Daniel stops all of the sudden and picks you up bridal style “Daniel!” You grip his shoulders and look behind him. Kika is laughing but taking pictures “Francisca Gomez!” You yell.

Daniel turns around with you in his arms and walks backwards “What are you doing?” He laughs “I took pictures, what else” She smiles. Daniel rolls his eyes but smiles “Can we walk forward please?” You say a bit panicked. Daniel turns back around and the other two walk next to you now.

You lay your head on his shoulder and don’t realise that your eyes feel heavy when they close for good. Kika askes you a question that you don’t answer, that is when Daniel finally looks at you and laughs “She’s asleep”

Kika raised her eyebrows “Seriously? My god” She laughs “Someone’s tired from stealing girlfriends” Pierre mumbles, which earns him a slap from kika on his arm.

He raises his hands in surrender “I’m just speaking my truth” “Yeah yeah. And I’m still calling you a drama queen.”

Daniel sighs “Trouble, wake up. Come on” He says softly as you arrive at the front of your building. You open your eyes and look around “Hm?”

“You have the card to get inside” You nod and pull out the card.

You now stand in the elevator “Are your arms not tired?” He shakes his head “Not really” You chuckle and take a picture. He smiles “What are you doing?” “Nothing” You lean your head back on his shoulder and close your eyes.

“No sleeping yet, we still need to get in your apartment.” He chuckled “I won’t fall asleep until we get there, don’t worry. My eyes just hurt from the bright light” He hums.

He steps out of the elevator and walks down the hallway. You open your door and he kicks it close with his foot.

He sets you down on your bed and unties your heels. You don’t take your eyes off him “You’re staring” “You have a problem with that?” “Never said that” He looks up at you. You chuckle “Thought so”

He’s on his knees now and leans on your lap with his arms. His face close to yours “We’re messing with a very blurry line here, Daniel” He hums and his eyes flicker to your lips back to your eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” His voice is almost to quiet to understand but you do. You nod and his lips find yours in an instant. He gets up without breaking the kiss and leans over you on the bed, his hands resting next to your head.

“So? We’re totally still friends?” You ask in a teasing tone as he pulls away “Sure, If this is what you do with all your friends” You chuckle and look up at him “Why would I do that?”

“I was pretty sure you were gonna kiss Kika at one point. Maybe even just to piss of pierre” You laugh and throw your head back “you his face would’ve been golden!” Daniel falls on the bed next to you “Would’ve been worth millions”

He turns his head to you “I know you’re not over him yet” You look questioning at Daniel “Max”

“Can we not talk about him?” “We should. If we’re continuing with this, we need to be transparent” You sigh and look back at the ceiling “I don’t wanna think about him, okay? I’m here with you”

“Would you be if he wasn’t lando’s best friend? Are you sure you would’ve chosen me?” He asks. He turns onto his side so his whole body is facing you. You turn your head to him “I’m honestly not sure, I’m sorry dan”

He pushes a lose strand of hair behind your ear and shakes his head “I get it, don’t stress about it” He smiles softly. You look back at the ceiling “How long have you liked me?”

“Where does that come from?” “Just answer the question” Daniel sighs “A bit. But I swear I would’ve never acted on it if you didn’t do it first”

You nod and sit up “I’ll chance into something more comfy. There should be some clothes from Quadrant in that drawer. You can look if there’s something in your size if you’d like” You point to a drawer in your dresser. He nods.

You lay down next to Daniel, who opened his arms. You make yourself comfortable “Good night” “Good night, trouble” For a moment the room was simply filled with your even breathing.

“Dan?” “Hm?” “I won’t just let you fall because of Max” He looks at you and smiles softly. You peck his lips quickly. His arms tighten around you and he kisses your forehead “Go to sleep” He says softly.

yn added to their story

so..I may had a complete writers block in the middle of this, oops. Dw the next part will be out around 10 pm (europe time)

And also remember, this is only the 7th part. A lot can happen 👀👀

#formula one imagine #lando norris x sister!reader #norris!reader #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #max fewtrell x you #max fewtrell imagine

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