#and it's not their fault!!! it's my fault for expecting someone to understand exactly what im saying when i say it

[mainfaggot]

the last time i felt emotionally fulfilled in a friendship was when i was 15, and before that when i was 13. im turning 21 next month

[florestalio]

INSATIABLE NEEDS — p.sh

you had always found your best friend attractive, who wouldn't? but perhaps, him being so close to you when you were ovulating... wasn't the best idea. after all, a harmless crush can lead to being dangerously close to toeing the line of friendship.

GENRE— porn with little plot, friends to ???

WARNINGS— unprotected sex (don't!), reader is extremely horny, reader is so down bad for sunghoon it's almost embarrassing, reader isn't as subtle as she thinks, sunghoon is a cocky little shit, fingering, mirror sex (?), pussy slapping, cum eating, missionary, bondage, let me know if i missed any!

WORDCOUNT— 3.6k

NOTE— this is a REVAMP of this bnd fic. since i'm on hiatus, and probs won't be able to publish anything else for two months...

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

a soft groan fell from sunghoon’s lips, as you continued to read your book, despite him being literally two feet away from you — that too on the same bed. what could that stupid book possibly contain, that you were completely ignoring his presence?

he groaned again. “can you please put that damn book aside and pay attention to me instead? we were supposed to hang out, not be busy reading stupid books–”

you rolled your eyes. “we weren’t ‘supposed’ to do anything. you came to my apartment of your own accord, went straight to my bedroom, and plopped down on my bed, expecting me to entertain you — it’s not my fault that you can’t find the entertainment you wanted from me.”

yes, maybe you were being a little harsh. but then again, he deserved it. you were ovulating — really bad at that — and were peacefully watching certain… videos on twitter, when he suddenly rang the bell to your apartment. of course you were gonna be mad at him. guaranteed, he had no idea. but that can’t stop you from being petty, can it? not to mention that the book you were reading was one of the best smut books ever, so you had at least had something to distract yourself from the current dilemma with — but he was hellbent on trying to get you to ditch that as well, just to make you pay attention to him.

distract yourself from what, exactly? why, it’s your best friend, of course.

you had always found him attractive, who wouldn’t? but now that you were ovulating… the images in your head starring him were… unholy in the least.

you needed the distraction. everyone knows that a girl ovulating, while being in the presence of a guy who she is even slightly attracted to, can be very, very dangerous. especially if said guy is a good friend. toeing the line of friendship is never a good idea, especially with sunghoon. you weren't willing to lose him forever, just to satisfy your temporary needs… even if he was making it really difficult for you to not pounce on him.

you never thought a band aid on someone's cheek could be that attractive, combined with his all black outfit and the lollipop in his mouth. the way he kept swirling his tongue over the candy? god, you were definitely going to hell from the thoughts you were having about him.

a scoff from your best friend snapped you out of your daydreams. “okay, maybe i came uninvited. but isn't it common courtesy for you to not blatantly ignore someone right in front of you? or is that book of yours so engaging that you forgot basic etiquettes?”

oh, how you wished to yell at him and say that yes, the book really was that engaging. how you wished to recreate the absolutely mouth-watering smut scenes in the book with him–

okay, you really needed to get a grip over yourself.

you cleared your throat. “fine, i'll keep the book down, but i don't know how to entertain you.” true to your word, you kept the book down, the uncomfortable heat that had been long since pooling into your lower stomach, not fading in the slightest. in fact, the more you looked at him, the more the heat intensified.

he rolled his eyes, speaking in an irritated voice. “it’s not like you aren't enjoying yourself right now, is it?”

you couldn't understand if it was because you were ovulating, or if he was doing it purposely — but something about the tone of his voice was so fucking hot — you could feel even more heat starting to pool into your lower stomach, your panties sticking to your folds uncomfortably. you spoke in a slightly shaky voice. “w-what is that supposed to mean?–”

sunghoon took the lollipop out of his mouth with a loud ‘pop’, before speaking with an accusatory tone. “don’t play dumb with me. you know exactly what i’m talking about.”

…there was absolutely no way you were growing wetter at his tone. since when did he sound so… hot while accusing you? and why were you enjoying it?

you didn’t even know what he was accusing you of. all you could concentrate on was his slight smirk and the cocky gleam in his eye. you couldn’t tell why he was looking at you the way he was, but you knew he was up to no good.

but even when you predicted that, his next few words still managed to make your blood run cold. “stop pretending like i can't see you rubbing your cute thighs together. i'm not blind, you know.”

your jaw dropped, staring at him with eyes that were wide open in horror. he noticed?! god, so now he thinks you're a pervert — which, given your behavior, wouldn't be wrong — but still–

you didn't know how you still had the audacity to play dumb, but you did. “i-i don't know what you're talking about–”

you were cut off with a loud scoff from him. he gave you an incredulous look, speaking in a condescending tone, paired with sheer disbelief, letting you know that he didn't buy your bullshit. “you don't know what i'm talking about?”

you gulped, your thighs unintentionally pressing together even harder to prevent a fresh wave of slick from trickling down your hole. “n-no?–”

he let out a disappointed sigh, which seemed to be more of a mocking gesture than a genuine reaction of disappointment. “so you aren't going to admit it on your own. that's okay, i can always make you admit it.”

without a warning, he wrapped a hand around your ankle, yanking you towards him. you screamed out loud from utter shock. before you could say anything, he pulled you up, wrapping a hand around your waist so that you were pressed flush to his chest. he spread his legs, settling you in between them, before turning you, pressing your back to his chest. sunghoon grabbed your chin, pulling it up, so that your eyes stared right into your own in the mirror on the far end of your room.

your eyes trailed to his own in the mirror, shocked to see his expression. his eyes had darkened, slightly hooded eyes staring straight into your soul. you had never seen your best friend like that, but today… safe to say your thighs clenched again, your panties surely drenched by now.

you gulped, noticing a slight smirk on his face. he brought his lips closer to your ear, whispering softly. “tell me princess, are you still not going to admit it?”

his tone sent chills down your spine. you wanted to admit it so badly, wanted to let him know exactly how you needed him to rail you within an inch of your life — but then again, you wanted to find out what he would do if you didn’t give into his demands. what you guys were doing had already crossed all lines of friendship, it didn’t matter now if you guys went all the way anyways.

so you proceeded to lie. again. “i- i seriously don’t know what you’re talking a-about–”

he let out a disappointed sigh, — which sounded really condescending instead — before speaking again. “so you really have no idea, hm? you’re telling me you aren’t wet right now? hm?”

your breath hitched. fuck, this was really happening. “i- i’m not–”

you were cut off with a loud gasp, when he suddenly pressed two fingers right over your clothed cunt, the nearly drenched fabric soaking up more of your wetness. you couldn’t help yourself, letting out a choked moan, when he pressed them in even harder, effectively pushing the fabric deeper inside your puffy lips, even more slick dripping down out of you.

your best friend — could you even call him that anymore? — bit down on the lobe of your ear, before speaking again. “nasty little slut, aren’t you? soaking up your panties right in front of me, and yet you have the gall to lie to my face? acting all innocent too… was this what you actually wanted? for me to force an answer out of you? fuck, look at the way you’re clenching around my fingers, and they aren’t even inside you yet — we’re gonna have so much fun together princess…”

his last few words turned you on even more, — if that was even possible — falling out of his lips like a dark promise, a promise that he intended to keep. you still needed to answer him, so you did — only this time, all hesitation, all the ‘acting dumb’ was gone, replaced by pure, unadulterated, lust. “i’m s-sorry please — please, fuck me hoon–”

you couldn’t even complete your sentence, before he pulled his hand off your pants, opting to push the waistband of your shorts down instead. you didn’t even realize that you were lifting up your hips for him to shove them down your legs, your underwear following suit — only, instead of throwing it far away randomly in the room, he brought them to his nose, screwing his eyes shut and taking a deep inhale.

his action caused your jaw to hang open in pure shock, eyes as wide as saucers — you were so unbelievably horny, all you wanted was to push him down to lie down on your bed, and ride him till the two of you were spent beyond salvation — but you knew he wouldn’t let you do that. he always liked to be assertive, which you were fine with — although right now you were growing impatient. you needed him, did he not understand that? you needed him so fucking bad, you would let him take you raw, breed the fuck out of you, fuck a baby into you–

at this point you didn’t even know if these were your own thoughts, or your ovulation fucking with your head. either way, you were filled with the thought of him, your mind chanting ‘sunghoon, sunghoon, sunghoon’ like a mantra, imprinting his name into the walls of your brain — which was funny, because he hadn’t even done anything to you yet — properly, that is.

speaking of, you just noticed him stuffing your soaked panties into his pocket, his hand coming to grip your chin again. he raised it to make you look into the mirror. you made eye contact with him in it, gulping at the look in his eyes. it was purely predatory, lust swimming in his irises like an insatiable hunger.

if you had any doubts about him not wanting you as much as you wanted him, your doubts were certainly all cleared now.

his hand left your chin, coming down to your impossibly wet cunt instead. he slid a finger over your slit, rubbing it up and down, collecting your abundant amount of slick on it. he watched in the mirror, completely fucking mesmerized by the sight of your pretty little pussy fluttering around his finger. he decided to use another finger, using both of his digits to part your folds, watching even more slick dripping out of your needy cunt. it was truly a sight, causing his bulge to strain against your back, a loud moan escaping you at the feeling. your head fell back on his shoulder, your eyes screwed shut from the feeling of him playing with you so lewdly — it was like a scene straight out of your dirtiest fantasies, one that you never imagined would actually happen in reality — but fuck, you were definitely not complaining.

you suddenly gasped out loud, your head jerking up, staring directly into his eyes in the mirror. your eyes were wide open in shock, from the impact of his slap on your impossibly wet pussy. your breathing had fastened, staring at him in pure shock. he scoffed at your expression, glaring at you through the mirror. “what? surprised? if you want me to continue, you better not remove your gaze — you’re going to watch as i make you fall apart on my fingers. if you avoid eye contact even once, i’m going to edge you the entire day — yes, the entire day. i’m not kidding in the slightest, princess, so you better keep those pretty eyes of yours peeled open if you want to cum at all.”

you swallowed thickly. this, this was what you needed. he was what you needed, he was all you needed. his tone, his words, everything was so fucking hot — you craved everything he could offer, and more.

but, in order to get a little bit of literally anything he had to offer, you needed to obey him. so you decided to comply, not removing your gaze even once from the mirror.

he plunged his fingers inside you without a warning, fucking them into you at a rough pace, drawing out loud squelching noises from your pussy. you let out the loudest moans and whimpers known to mankind at his rough pace, whining slightly, clenching and unclenching around his fingers. you arched your back to the best of your ability, letting out a loud whimper, when the calloused pads of his fingers rubbed oh-so-deliciously against your walls. your breath hitched as he rubbed that spot on your walls, his other hand holding you down tightly to stop you from squirming. he had noticed immediately, making sure to hit that same spot over and over again, using his thumb to rub on your clit simultaneously. you let out a choked gasp, the band in your stomach tightening at alarming rate; a telltale sign of you being brought to your fastest  — almost embarrassingly fast — orgasm yet.

sunghoon watched your expressions with his lip pulled between his teeth, his eyes hooded, as you fell apart on his fingers. the little shudders and loud whines were music to his ears.

god, you knew exactly how to drive him crazy.

he kept on thrusting his fingers shallowly, until you were squirming from the overstimulation. he then withdrew his fingers from your soaking cunt, giving your clit a last pinch, eliciting a whimper from you. he brought his fingers to his mouth, maintaining eye contact with you in the mirror, as he licked them clean, a soft groan leaving him as your taste hit him.

he licked off every last drop from his fingers, before harshly grabbing your chin. he turned your face halfway towards him, smashing his lips on yours, for the very first time — which was a little funny to think about, given that he had already made you cum on his fingers; that too at such an embarrassingly fast pace.

the kiss was sloppy and messy, spit mixing and dribbling down your chins, tongues clashing with each other. but neither of you seemed to care, too engrossed in trying to memorize the feel of each other's mouth.

he gripped your waist without breaking the kiss, pulling you backwards, before shoving you down on the bed. you fell on your back with a light ‘oof–’, your head hitting the pillow. you barely had any time to gather yourself, before sunghoon was crashing his lips into yours again.

he kissed you at a feverish pace, one that you could barely keep up with. his hands roamed about your body frantically, desperately trying to memorize every inch of you. he started to fiddle with your clothes, trying to take them off you, almost tearing them off in the process.

you barely processed it when your shirt went flying in some corner of the room, your bra following suit. your nipples harden almost instantly as they come in contact with the cold air, causing him to immediately pinch them, drawing out a loud whine from you. he sucked on one of them harshly, using his hand to pinch and twirl the other nipple. he alternated between both, biting and sucking on the skin around your nipples too, until your entire chest was covered in red hickeys and bite marks.

you were starting to find it a little unfair because of how you were the only one unclothed between the two of you, causing you to take the matter into your own hands. you tugged at his shirt impatiently, causing him to give in and take it off. he tried to immediately kiss you again, but your hands that were tugging at his pants stopped him. he stared at you with a slightly impatient glare, before taking his belt out of the loop.

instead of taking his pants off like you hoped he would, he grabbed both of your hands, before tying them with the belt, attaching them to the headboard. you gasped loudly, trying to free your hands, in vain. he laughed at your state. “patience is key, darling. didn't you know that?”

he pressed another harsh kiss to your lips, swallowing your whines, as he slowly grinded on you. you could feel the outline of his rock hard dick through his boxers, pressing insistently against your clit. you let out sharp gasps and moans at the sensation, but it was quickly ripped away from you.

you were positively drooling when he shoved his boxers down, his cock standing proud and tall. it slapped against his stomach, leaving a trail of precum on it. he grabbed your thighs, shoving them apart, before aligning himself with your eagerly awaiting cunt.

he rubbed his angry red and leaking tip on your clit, before gliding it up and down your slit, collecting your wetness. you arched your back, your eyes rolling into your head, a loud moan practically ripping out of your lips. you looked up at him with teary eyes, silently begging him to hurry up.

he smirked down at you, leaning down to nip at your bottom lip, before finally pushing himself inside. you let out an even louder moan, feeling his bulbous tip stretch you out, before he thrust himself fully inside — earning a choked gasp from you. he groaned, barely giving you time to adjust, before pulling himself almost completely out, leaving only the tip in, before thrusting back in.

he set a brutally fast pace, the continuous ‘fap-fap-fap’ sounds ringing loudly in your ears. the squelching sounds from your pussy were almost equally as loud, as more and more of your wetness trickled down his length. your bottom lip was pulled in between your teeth, eyes screwed shut. you subtly bucked your hips up, trying to match  his pace.

he noticed it quickly enough, grabbing your hips to still you, before stopping as well. he gave you a stern look, before changing his pace. instead of the brutally fast pace he had set earlier, he switched to a slower pace, focusing on hitting every single spot perfectly.

you clenched around him tightly, a breathy moan of his name leaving your lips. his pace stuttered, before he grabbed both of your legs, folding them to your chest. the new position helped him pound into you even deeper, reaching places you never could on your own. his mushroom tip collided with your cervix every time, making you see stars.

he was deep, so so deep. he felt so fucking good, like you were in cloud nine. by the looks of it, he thought the same.

he let out a deep groan, breathy whispers leaving his lips. “p-pussy feels s-so — fuck — s’fucking good — fits like a glove–” he cut himself off with a moan, feeling you clench around him harder. “keep s-squeezing me like that i'll cum.”

you could barely hear him, your brain completely fogged up. you could barely formulate a single coherent thought, the completely unadulterated pleasure leaving you dizzy. you let out a soft gasp as you felt him sucking on your neck, just above your jugular. it felt good, too good.

you could feel the band in your stomach start to tighten, signalling your impending climax. he could tell it was close too, by the change of pitch in your moans. he focused on hitting your g-spot with every thrust, bringing his hand down to rub circles around your clit, coaxing your orgasm out of you.

the added stimulation was all it took for the band in your stomach to finally snap, your cunt clenching impossibly tight around him.your eyes rolled back, mouth open in a silent scream. your orgasm washed over you, coating his dick in a layer of white.

your orgasm triggered his own, causing his hips to stutter. he tried to pull out, but your pussy was clenching so tightly around him, he simply couldn't. he grabbed your hips, pushing himself even deeper. his eyes rolled back, a groan escaping him, as he came in you.

spurts of cum erupted from him, shooting deep inside, your pretty cunt clenching around him even harder, milking him for all he was worth. he came and came, till he physically couldn't anymore. he pulled his softening length out of your spent hole.

your ruined pussy clenched around nothing, globs of cum dripping down your thighs. sunghoon scooped them up with his fingers, pushing them right back into your sensitive folds. he pressed a kiss to your forehead, pushing your hair out of your face. “you're still with me?”

you nodded tiredly, too spent to speak. you were still in disbelief of the entire situation, but it was as real as real could get. you felt him untie your hands, before scooping you up in his arms, carrying you bridal style, carrying you to what you could only hope was the bathroom — before you passed out in his arms.

[cressidagrey]

The Queen of Romantasy and the Race Car Prince - Chapter 17

Pairing: Lando Norris x Elizabeth "Lizzie" Treshton (Original Character)

Summary:

Elizabeth Treshton—bestselling romantasy author, queen of fae heartbreak, and sworn devotee of a carefully structured routine—never expected her service dog to abandon protocol and diagnose a Formula 1 driver with something. But that’s exactly what happens when Mara the wonder-dog ditches Lizzie’s side to aggressively alert to none other than Lando Norris in the middle of a coffee shop.

Warnings and Notes: 

Mention of epilepsy and service animals. I don't myself suffer from epilepsy, so I asked my IRL friend, who thankfully was nice enough to let me ask her all the questions I could come up with. The rest I asked Reddit. So everything that's wrong...that's totally my fault and not on purpose.

This has literally all the worst things the internet has to offer: Ableism, Sexisms, Toxic Media, horrible journalism, death threats...I am pretty sure I am missing some of it.

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

6 July 2024 - Silverstone GP, Quali Day

YouTube Transcript – Silverstone 2024 – Lando Norris Post-Qualifying Interview

Interviewer: “Lando, solid qualifying today. But I have to ask—the paddock is absolutely buzzing because you’ve brought someone special this weekend. This is the first time we’ve seen you publicly with your girlfriend. What made Silverstone the right place?”

Lando: [laughs, rubbing the back of his neck] “Yeah, I guess I couldn’t keep her a secret forever, could I? Silverstone just made sense. It’s home for me, and it’s a special race, so... felt like the right time.”

Interviewer: “People were definitely surprised! Most fans had no idea you were even dating someone, let alone Elizabeth Treshton, a bestselling author. Was keeping it private a conscious decision?”

Lando: “Yeah, for sure. I mean, I like keeping my personal life… well, personal. But also, Lizzie’s got her own career, her own thing, and I wanted to make sure she was comfortable before anything went public. It’s a bit different from racing, but she’s got just as many passionate fans as we do in F1.”

Interviewer: “Speaking of passion—social media is having a meltdown over the fact that her dog, Mara, is at Silverstone wearing a Quadrant bandana that matches your helmet. Can you confirm if this was planned, or is this just peak marketing?”

Lando: [grinning] “Liz just thought it’d be funny. And honestly, it is. They are my good luck charm.”

Interviewer: “One last question before we let you go—now that she’s made her paddock debut, should we expect to see Elizabeth at more races?”

Lando: [shrugs, smirking] “We’ll see. I mean, she’s got books to write, but maybe if I ask nicely.”

Interviewer: “Alright, we’ll hold you to that. Thanks, Lando, and good luck tomorrow!”

Comments: 

@/RomantasyQueen: Wait wait wait—Lando called her Liz??? Since WHEN???

@/TwitchChamps: What if he’s the only one who calls her Liz? What if that’s like...their thing???

@/RomantasyReign: Lando Norris dating THE Elizabeth Treshton is the plot twist of the century. This crossover is feeding me in ways I didn’t know I needed.

@/TifosiTears: Not only is Lizzie a Ferrari fan, but she’s dating a McLaren driver??? The potential for absolute chaos in this relationship is INSANE, and I’m here for it.

@/GatekeepingGremlin: Ugh, why does every driver suddenly need to have a famous girlfriend? This feels so staged.

@/F1Bookworm: We’ve been sobbing over tragic, brooding fae princes for YEARS, and now Lizzie is with Lando, the most golden retriever boyfriend to ever exist. I love this for her.

@/MaraStanAccount: Mara being the true star of the paddock is the best part of this. Someone get this dog a tiny Quadrant hoodie ASAP.

@/BitterAndSalty: She’s a writer, big deal. What does she actually have to do with F1?

@/PitLaneGossip: The fact that Lando admitted Lizzie’s got fans just as passionate as F1 ones??? He understands the romantasy girlies are unhinged and will defend their queen. We’ve already claimed him as a book boyfriend now.

@/ConspiracyQueen: Funny how she’s suddenly at Silverstone and now everyone is talking about her. Feels like a marketing stunt, tbh.

@/WAGWatch: I love how Lizzie isn’t even a regular WAG. She’s an author. Like, imagine dating a race car driver and still being the most interesting person in the room.

@/LandoFangirl69: Lando soft-launching Lizzie was one thing, but Mara getting a full rebrand as an F1 celebrity dog was NOT on my 2024 bingo card.

7 July 2024 - Silverstone GP, Race Day

YouTube Transcript - FIA Post-Race Press Conference – Silverstone

Attendees: Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, Max Verstappen

Moderator: “Next question.”

Interviewer: [Clears throat.] “Lando, your relationship with Elizabeth Treshton has been in the spotlight. Given her epilepsy, do you ever worry about how that might affect your career and the demands of F1?”

Lando: [Blinks, frowning.] “Sorry, what?”

Interviewer: “Well, F1 is a high-pressure environment—constant travel, long hours, high stress. Do you ever consider whether being with someone who has a condition like that is… sustainable?”

Lewis: [Turns his head sharply.] “Excuse me?”

Max: [Squinting at the interviewer.] “Did you really just say that?”

Lando: [Slowly, voice dangerously calm.] “Are you asking me if Liz’s epilepsy is a problem for me?”

Interviewer: “No, no, I just meant—”

Lando: [Flatly.] “Because that’s what it sounds like.”

Interviewer: [Awkward chuckle.] “I meant in terms of logistics.”

Max: [Muttering.] “Logistics. Unreal.”

Lando: [Deadpan.] “Logistics.”

Interviewer: “Like—does it make things harder for you?”

Lando: [Leaning forward slightly.] “Harder for me? I’m not the one with epilepsy. She is. She’s the one managing it. And she does. Every day. It’s not an issue. It’s just part of her life.”

Interviewer: “But with the unpredictability—”

Lando: [Firmly.] “Life is unpredictable. That’s not a reason to not love someone.”

Lewis: [Shaking his head.] “I’ve heard a lot of nonsense in these press conferences, but this is a new low.”

Max: [Scoffs, crossing his arms.] “Yeah. This is disgusting.”

Interviewer: [Looking increasingly uncomfortable.] “I didn’t mean to imply—”

Lando: [Interrupting.] “You did imply it. And I don’t get it. You wouldn’t ask this if she had diabetes or asthma. Why is epilepsy different?”

Lewis: [Firmly.] “It’s not.”

Max: [Pointedly.] “Maybe we should be asking why you think it is.”

(A tense silence. The interviewer looks like they want the ground to swallow them whole. Lando exhales sharply, jaw tight.)

Lando: [Flatly.] “Liz is my girlfriend. I love her. End of story.”

Moderator: [Hurriedly.] “Next question.”

Comments: 

@/F1Fanatic99: Lando shutting that down IMMEDIATELY. No hesitation. No dodging. Just straight-up ‘I love her. End of story.’ That’s a man right there.

@/GridGossip: You can literally see Lando getting angrier with every follow-up question. This interviewer really thought they were onto something.

@/WheelToWheel: Max saying ‘this is disgusting’ and Lewis calling it a new low. They didn’t just stand by—they backed Lando and Lizzie. That’s respect.

@/McLarenUpdates: The way Lando just flat-out refused to give them any kind of negative soundbite about Lizzie’s epilepsy. That’s love.

@/EpilepsyAwareness: It’s rare to see someone in the public eye so openly defend a partner with epilepsy like this. Lando handled this perfectly. Thank you for using your platform the right way.

@/AlwaysDR3: I mean, the interviewer had a point?? F1 drivers have crazy schedules. It’s a valid concern.

@/SilverstoneStan: Lando saying Lizzie’s epilepsy isn’t hard for him… yeah, but he’s definitely making sacrifices. He should’ve just been honest.

@/SpeedDemon19: No, but actually… that interviewer should be ashamed. What an awful question to ask.

@/F1TeaSpill: I like Lizzie but let’s be real, she’s a liability for his career. The press will always focus on this now.

@/McLarenSuperFan: If she ever has a seizure during a race weekend and it distracts him, then what?

@/MaxsOrangeArmy: That interviewer was so desperate for Lando to say something awful, and instead, he got a masterclass in 'how not to be an ableist idiot.'

@/PitStopChaos: Mara (Lizzie’s dog) growling at the TV somewhere, I just know it.

@/ChaosInTurn1: Not Lando making this interviewer question every life decision they’ve ever made.

@/F1Wifey: The way Lando did not let them frame epilepsy as some kind of obstacle for him. He kept the focus on Lizzie and how she handles it. That’s how you love someone.

@/WheelToWheelGirl: Lewis and Max backing him instantly?? No hesitation?? It’s the kind of solidarity we love to see.

@/EpilepsyAdvocacy: The amount of people acting like epilepsy makes someone unworthy of love and stability is disgusting. Thank you, Lando, for not entertaining that nonsense.

@/RacingLogic: No one is saying he shouldn’t love her, but c’mon, it’s a fair question. F1 drivers have insane schedules.

@/ToxicMcLarenFan: Lando could’ve just said ‘we manage it well’ and moved on instead of acting like the interviewer just insulted his ancestors.

@/SilverstoneElite: I get that he’s in love or whatever, but acting like this isn’t a factor in his career is just naive.

@/PaddockInsider: Bet McLaren wishes they could tell him to not be so public about this. Sponsors might not like the drama.

@/PitLaneDrama: The moment Lando said ‘logistics?’ I felt the temperature in that room drop.

@/FIAConspiracyTheories: Can’t wait for the Netflix edit where they make it look like this ruined Lando’s season.

@/FastAndFearless: The way he shut that down so fast? He’s not just defending Lizzie, he’s making it very clear that ableism won’t be tolerated.

@/EpilepsyAwareness: Public figures treating epilepsy like a burden is so common. Seeing Lando refuse to play into that narrative means so much.

@/DriveItLikeItsHot: ’Life is unpredictable. That’s not a reason to not love someone.’ I AM SOBBING IN THE CLUB.

@/McLarenMadness: This interviewer really expected Lando to go, 'Yeah, you’re right, I should probably dump her' ???

@/F1GirlfriendGoals: Lando: ‘She makes my life better.’ Me: Crying in single.

@/CasualF1Fan: That interviewer woke up and chose ableism live on air and Lando was having NONE of it.

@/PurelyObjective: Lando’s getting defensive over nothing. It was a logistics question, not a personal attack.

@/UnbotheredMcLarenFan: I feel like this was an overreaction? He could’ve just said, ‘We make it work’ and moved on.

@/StrictlyBusiness: If you don’t think sponsors consider things like this, you’re naive. This is a discussion, whether you like it or not.

@/MaxFanButConfused: McLaren PR must be watching this with their heads in their hands like 'oh god, here we go again.'

@/MaxRageMode: Lando really said “You’re not gonna get the soundbite you want.

@/LandoSimps: Lando is so in love with Lizzie. He didn’t even hesitate before going to war for her.

@/WAGsInFormation: That interviewer really tried to frame epilepsy as a reason not to love someone. What year is it??

@/PaddockSpice: If looks could kill, Max and Lewis would’ve been the co-conspirators in The Murder of the Silverstone Interviewer.

@/FIAClownShow: If you listen closely, you can hear the exact moment McLaren PR started hyperventilating. @/McLarenPanicDepartment: “DO YOU EVER THINK ABOUT WHETHER BEING WITH HER IS SUSTAINABLE??” Bro. That is insane to say out loud.

@/MaraForPresident: Mara better be getting so many extra treats for emotionally supporting Lizzie through this.

Is Lando Norris’ Relationship Hurting His Brand? By: James Carter, The Racing Report

When Lando Norris stormed to yet another podium at Silverstone, the home crowd erupted in cheers. The young Brit is one of Formula 1’s most promising stars—charming, talented, and a marketing goldmine. But while his on-track performance continues to impress, his off-track choices are raising eyebrows.

Namely, his relationship with fantasy author Lizzie Treshton.

It’s no secret that Formula 1 drivers tend to date models, influencers, and celebrities—women who embody the glamorous, jet-set lifestyle that comes with being in the pinnacle of motorsport. Treshton, by contrast, is an author of romantasy novels, a niche genre that, while popular, hardly screams luxury brand ambassador. More concerning, however, is the ongoing discourse surrounding her epilepsy, her service dog, and the apparent PR nightmare that comes with dating someone so fundamentally unaligned with the F1 image.

Let’s be honest—Lando Norris’ schedule is relentless. Grand Prix weekends involve constant travel, late nights, high-intensity racing, and overwhelming media obligations. In short, it’s not an environment suited to someone with a medical condition like epilepsy. While Norris has passionately defended his girlfriend against critics, one has to ask: is this sustainable?

It’s an uncomfortable question, but a necessary one. Relationships require compromise, and when one partner’s lifestyle is inherently at odds with the other’s career, problems arise. Norris insists that Treshton’s epilepsy “isn’t hard” for him, but realistically, how could it not be? He’s bringing her into an environment full of flashing lights, loud noises, and extreme stress—hardly ideal conditions for someone with a neurological disorder.

Beyond the logistics, there’s also the question of image. McLaren has spent years cultivating Norris as an approachable yet aspirational figure, a brand-friendly athlete with widespread appeal. That image is now being dragged into online firestorms, as Norris’ fanbase—usually one of the most engaged and loyal in motorsport—has become divided.

While Norris and Treshton’s relationship may be personal, in F1, nothing is truly private. The controversy surrounding Treshton has only intensified in recent weeks, from heated online debates to Norris’ now-viral post-race interview where he shut down a journalist for asking if her condition made his career harder. While some fans saw his response as commendable, others questioned why such discussions were necessary in the first place.

One thing is clear: Treshton is not a neutral presence in Norris’ career. Her online presence, her outspoken defense against critics, and even her service dog (yes, a Labrador now features in Norris’ F1 orbit) have sparked endless debates. The internet discourse isn’t just about Norris’ driving anymore—it’s about her.

And that’s the problem.

Lando Norris is 25 years old, at the peak of his career, and one of the most marketable drivers in Formula 1. The last thing he needs is unnecessary distractions. His fans adore him, his sponsors invest millions in him, and McLaren is banking on him to lead the team into its next championship era.

But in a sport where image is everything, is he making the right personal choices?

Time will tell. But one thing is certain: this relationship isn’t just about romance—it’s about reputation. And Lando Norris may soon have to decide which one matters more.

Comments:

@/F1Fangirl88: Imagine thinking a woman having epilepsy is a ‘PR nightmare.’ This article is disgusting.

@/PaddockInsider69: They have a point. F1 is a demanding career, and Lizzie’s health issues aren’t exactly an easy thing to manage. It’s a fair question.

@/McLaren4Life: Lizzie is literally just existing and these guys are acting like she’s some kind of controversy. Lando loves her. That should be the end of the discussion.

@/BrandManagerAnon: Lando is a brand, whether fans like it or not. And Lizzie is making that brand messy. This isn’t about love—it’s about business.

@/MaxFan_33: So women in F1 can only be models or influencers? God forbid a man date someone smart and successful in her own field.

@/EpilepsyAwarenessUK: The ableism is off the charts. Having epilepsy doesn’t make you a burden or a liability. It’s a medical condition, not a PR scandal.

@/McLarenPRRep: F1 is a high-profile world. Not every girlfriend can handle it, and honestly, Lizzie brings more drama than she’s worth.

@/FastCarsHotGirls: No offense but Lando could have literally any woman in the world and he chooses some nerdy author? Make it make sense.

@/WDC_OrNothing: Not saying she’s bad for him, but you do have to wonder if all this online drama is a distraction.

@/AntiRomantasyClub: Her books are cringe, she has zero charisma, and now she’s bringing a dog into the paddock? Lando deserves better.

@/GeorgeRussellThirstClub: This is why we don’t let men write articles.

@/MaraTheLabradorFan: DELETE THIS ARTICLE OR MARA WILL FIND YOU.

@/F1HotTakeKing: Not saying Lando should break up with her, but is he really thinking long-term? He’s 25, at his peak—does he want to spend his prime years worrying about his girlfriend’s medical issues?

@/GridGossip101: Look, we all love a good romance story, but let’s be real—Lizzie doesn’t exactly scream ‘F1 Girlfriend Material.’ She’s not glamorous, she doesn’t do grid walks, she’s not a model or an influencer. What does she bring to the table?

@/PRGuruAnon: If I were Lando’s management, I’d be deeply concerned. Fans love a cute WAG, but when your girlfriend starts trending for all the wrong reasons, that’s bad optics. Epilepsy is tragic, but F1 is about strength, not struggle.

@/RealTalkMotorsport: Lando’s brand is cool, fun, and youthful. Lizzie’s brand is book nerd who doesn’t even like clubbing or gaming. It’s like watching someone date their high school librarian.

@/GridRumorsDaily: Lando is a professional athlete in peak physical condition. Can we talk about how unfair it is that he’s dating someone who might not always be able to support his lifestyle? Relationships are a two-way street.

@/AnonymousPaddockInsider: Not saying McLaren should step in, but if I were Zak Brown, I’d be strongly advising Lando to rethink his public image. This isn’t just dating—this is business.

@/F1ImageConsultant: F1 is about performance, speed, and excellence. Lizzie’s whole vibe is soft, bookish, and… honestly kinda boring. This isn’t a good match.

@/GridGirlsAndGlamour: Look at the top WAGs—models, influencers, businesswomen. Lizzie writes fantasy books and brings a dog to races. Is this really the standard now?

@/AlphaMaleMotorsport: Men in high-performance careers need high-performance partners. I’m sorry, but a woman with a chronic illness and a stack of romance novels isn’t it.

@/RedBullInsider69: Lizzie being here is cute for now, but let’s see how long it lasts. We all know these drivers eventually upgrade.

YouTube Transcript – The Apex Take Episode 236

Hosts: Mark Daniels and Ryan Foley Title: Lando’s Girlfriend: Not a Model, Not an Asset?

Mark Daniels: All right, boys, let’s talk about Lando Norris and his, uh… let’s call it an interesting taste in women. (leans back, smirks)

Ryan Foley: Oh yeah, the one who writes those, what is it, fantasy romance books? (raises eyebrow, glances at notes like he can’t believe this is real)

Mark Daniels: Yeah, yeah, the “romantasy” or whatever they call it. (laughs, shaking head) Fae warriors and soulmates and—dude, I read a summary of one, and I swear it’s like a fever dream for lonely cat ladies.

Ryan Foley: (snorting) Right? Like, Lando could have anyone. Models, actresses, influencers—the kind of women you usually see around F1. (gestures vaguely, as if motioning to an imaginary lineup of supermodels) And instead, he’s with some chick who writes books about fairy kings and, what, magical smut?

Mark Daniels: Listen, I’m sure she’s a nice girl, (mockingly raises hands in defense) but let’s be honest—she doesn’t really fit the F1 WAG mold, does she?

Ryan Foley: (blinks slowly, smirks) Not at all. I mean, no offense, but when you think of an F1 driver’s girlfriend, you picture a certain kind of woman. You know, glamorous, stylish, jet-setting with him to every race. (shrugs, leans forward like he’s about to drop some deep wisdom) And instead, this one’s at home writing… whatever the hell she writes. And she’s definitely not doing runway shows in Monaco, let’s put it that way.

Mark Daniels: Yeah, I saw people trying to hype her up like, “She’s so successful in her own right!” (air quotes, exaggerated eye roll) But let’s be real, man—she writes books for teenagers who want to date elves. That’s not exactly Victoria’s Secret material. (laughs under breath)

Ryan Foley: And let’s not even get into the whole epilepsy thing. (leans back, crosses arms like he’s about to say something so reasonable) Like, I don’t wanna be that guy, but dude, how is that not a problem for Lando? The guy’s a professional athlete, constantly traveling, constantly under pressure—does he really need the extra stress? (shakes head, looking “concerned”)

Mark Daniels: That’s what I don’t get. I mean, yeah, he says it’s not a big deal, but come on. (tilts head, voice dripping with skepticism) She’s had seizures before! What happens if she has one in the middle of a flight? Or during a huge race weekend? (shrugs like he’s just being “practical”)

Ryan Foley: (leans closer, like he’s breaking it down logically) Exactly! Look, I get that he’s into her, but at some point, you have to wonder if it’s practical. Dating in F1 isn’t normal dating. These guys don’t have time for relationships that require a ton of extra effort. (shakes head, gesturing like it’s just common sense) And you know there are plenty of women who’d make his life easier.

Mark Daniels: (laughs, shaking head again) Right? Like, dude, you’re one of the most eligible bachelors in motorsport. You don’t have to date someone who writes about magical fae prince soulmates. You could just… I don’t know, date an actual model? (mock-thinks, looking up at the ceiling like it’s a groundbreaking idea)

Ryan Foley: It’s wild, man. (scoffs, shakes head) The guy’s got millions of options, and he’s out here choosing a book nerd with a health condition. Make it make sense.

Mark Daniels: Hey, maybe he’s just a nice guy. (grins, barely hiding the condescension) Or maybe he’s in too deep and doesn’t realize it yet.

Ryan Foley: We’ll see how long it lasts. (leans back, smirking like he knows something everyone else doesn’t)

Comments: 

@/F1HotTakes: Imagine dedicating an hour-long podcast to making fun of a woman who’s literally more successful than you. Y’all really sat down and said, ‘Let’s embarrass ourselves today.’

@/BookishF1Fan: Lizzie Treshton is a New York Times bestselling author with a global fanbase, and these guys run a podcast with 12 listeners and a ring light from Amazon. Maybe let’s not act like she’s the one who’s out of place here?

@/SpeedDemon99: So we’re just gonna pretend women in F1 HAVE to be models or influencers now? God forbid a driver dates someone with a real career. 

@/FaeQueenLizzie: This is so funny because Lizzie’s books sell millions of copies. Like, she could probably buy their entire podcast setup with a week’s worth of royalties. They’re out here roasting her while she’s out-earning them in her sleep

@/McLaren4Life:  The fact that they’re talking about ‘practical’ dating like Lando’s supposed to choose his girlfriend based on convenience… bro, it’s his relationship, not a logistics issue for DHL. 

@/EpilepsyAwareness: I don’t wanna be that guy, BUT—’ Congrats, you’re exactly that guy. Imagine thinking epilepsy makes someone unworthy of love. Clown behavior. 

@/F1Fanatic23:  The misogyny, the ableism, the absolute lack of self-awareness… this podcast really has it all. Can’t wait for Lando to ignore their existence while winning podiums. 

@/RealTalkF1: Look, they could’ve phrased it better, but they’re not wrong. Lando’s lifestyle is crazy—dating someone with a serious medical condition is complicated. 

@/BigManRacing: Why is everyone mad? They just said what people were already thinking. Lizzie doesn’t fit the usual WAG mold. That’s just facts. 

@/TruthHurts: Everyone’s so sensitive. Not every comment about a woman is misogyny. They weren’t even being that harsh. 

@/WAGsAreForModels: It’s called having standards. F1 drivers date models and actresses, not some chick who writes about elf sex. Be serious. 

@/LandoDeservesBetter69: Not to be rude, but they’re kinda right. Lando could have literally anyone. Why settle?

@/NoMoreNepotism: Bet she only got famous because of Lando. No one was talking about her books before this. Typical clout-chaser behavior. 

@/F1BookClub: Imagine being so insecure that you need to dunk on a woman who’s objectively more successful than you. Anyway, y’all should read An Autumn of Fire and Stone. Great book, would recommend. 

@/LandoFan14:  Lando: actually in love with Lizzie These guys: ‘But why isn’t she a model?’ Get a life, man. 

YouTube Transcript – Full Throttle & Fiction, Episode 32

Hosts: Tessa Lane & Jamie Foster 

Title: Lando Norris, Lizzie Treshton & The Romantasy/F1 Crossover of Our Dreams

(Podcast intro music plays, fading out as the hosts settle in.)

Tessa Lane: Okay, listen. I know we’re all still emotionally recovering from this revelation, but we need to talk about how we are actually living in a dream crossover event.

Jamie Foster: We’re talking “Marvel meets Star Wars” level of unexpected but completely legendary crossover. Lando Norris, F1’s beloved chaos gremlin, is dating Lizzie Treshton, queen of romantasy and the woman who has personally ruined our lives with her books. (clutches chest dramatically)

Tessa Lane: I still can’t believe this is real. Like, my two completely separate hyperfixations just decided to collide and make the internet combust.

Jamie Foster: (laughing) Same. I’m still trying to process it. Like, I spent years sobbing over her books, and now I find out she’s dating an F1 driver? And not just any F1 driver, but Lando Freaking Norris?

Tessa Lane: It’s actually the funniest thing ever because Lizzie—who writes about tragic, brooding fae princes and fated soulmates—is out here dating the human embodiment of a golden retriever. (laughs)

Jamie Foster: (grinning) And you just know that she’s mentally rewriting Lando as some kind of mischievous trickster fae lord who causes problems on purpose but in, like, a deeply endearing way.

Tessa Lane: Oh, 1000%. The next book she writes? The love interest is going to have “chaotic, drives really fast, makes bad jokes, but is secretly a sweetheart” energy. And we’ll all just know.

Jamie Foster: (mock serious) Lizzie, blink twice if Lando has started pitching plot ideas.

Tessa Lane: No, but actually. And can we talk about how people doubted her success? Like, some people were actually out here like, “Who is she?” as if this woman isn’t a New York Times bestselling author with millions of copies sold worldwide. (shakes head in disappointment)

Jamie Foster: Like, be serious. She’s out here building fantasy empires, and people want to act like she’s just some random? No, babes, she’s the moment. Some of us have been in the trenches with her books for years. We have suffered. We have cried. We have made fanart at 3 a.m. in emotional distress.

Tessa Lane: Her Twitter alone should’ve told people she was going to be a menace to the F1 world. She’s been unhinged for years, and now she has paddock access and a platform? We’ve already won.

Jamie Foster: Oh, she is going to thrive in this environment. Like, imagine her at a Grand Prix, just casually tweeting something like, “The real battle today is Charles vs. Carlos, but if either of them crash, I am writing them into my next book as cursed lovers destined for war.”

Tessa Lane: (wheezing) No, but let’s talk about the most important part of this entire situation—Mara. Lizzie’s Labrador service dog, aka the only WAG that matters.

Jamie Foster: Mara is a cultural reset. This dog is already more famous than half the grid. Like, she has fan edits. She has fan accounts. I saw someone tweet, “Mara could win a championship before Ferrari at this rate,” and I haven’t known peace since.

Tessa Lane: (mock gasps) Speaking of Ferrari… LIZZIE. IS. A. FERRARI. FAN. And not just casually. Like, she’s been ride or die for Ferrari since childhood. She’s a full-on Tifosi.

Jamie Foster: I just need to know… did she absolutely lose her mind when Lewis Hamilton announced he was moving to Ferrari? Did she faint? Did she ascend? Did she write a 10,000-word emotional essay about how this is the greatest thing to ever happen to the sport? Because I feel like she did.

Tessa Lane: Oh, she definitely had a meltdown. Like, I just imagine Lando coming home and finding her sitting in complete silence, staring at a Ferrari poster, just whispering, “Seven-time world champion. In red.”

Jamie Foster: (laughing) And meanwhile, Lando’s standing there like, “So… you’re gonna support me at McLaren, right?” And Lizzie just does not answer.

Tessa Lane: (grinning) She’s just like, “Babe, I love you, but this is bigger than us.”

Jamie Foster: Honestly, this entire thing is the best thing to happen to F1 pop culture in years. Final thoughts?

Tessa Lane: Lizzie Treshton is an icon. Lando is lucky. Mara is royalty. And the romantasy x F1 crossover is the serotonin boost we all needed.

Jamie Foster: Couldn’t have said it better myself. Now, everyone go pre-order Lizzie’s next book and prepare for the chaos she’s about to unleash in the paddock. (blows kiss to camera, grinning)

(Outro music fades in as the episode ends.)

Comments: 

@/FaerieQueen89: I swear I opened this video thinking, “No way, this crossover is real,” and now I’m emotionally INVESTED. Lizzie Treshton writing romantasy by day and attending McLaren garage debriefs by night is the kind of duality I aspire to.

@/Mara4WDC: Mara being the first Labrador to achieve WAG status is actually the most important part of this. Somebody get her a tiny team jacket and a paddock pass.

@/TifosiTears: “Babe, I love you, but this is bigger than us.” SCREAMING The fact that Lizzie is a lifelong Ferrari fan and her fave driver is Lewis Hamilton makes this 1000x funnier. Lando fighting for his life against her deeply rooted Ferrari loyalty.

@/BookishChaos: Can’t wait for Lizzie’s next book where the broody, fae warrior prince just happens to have suspiciously Lando-esque traits. Like, “his eyes gleamed with mischief as he smirked, trouble always one step behind him.”

@/CertifiedMcLarenMenace:  Lando: “You’re supporting me at McLaren, right?” Lizzie: intensely staring at a Ferrari poster “Seven-time world champion. In red.”

@/F1AndFantasyForever:  I was today years old when I realized my two greatest hyperfixations could actually merge into one chaotic, beautiful mess. We are LIVING in the golden age.

@/ElvenKissesAndRaceCars: Romantasy book fans: crying over soulmates and prophecy-driven love stories F1 fans: crying over tire degradation and strategy calls Me, now realizing I can be BOTH: SOBBING IN ITALIAN

@/MaraStan69: Mara supremacy. She’s the real main character. Lizzie and Lando are just side quests in her journey to world domination.

@/LandoPlsConfirm:  I need Lando to address this IMMEDIATELY. Does he know his girlfriend’s books have emotionally destroyed half the internet? Does he know we have trauma?

@/ChaosGremlinXL: I came for the F1 gossip. I stayed because now I need to read every book Lizzie has ever written.

@/MaxForMara: Someone please put Mara in a Ferrari cap so we can confirm which team she supports. This is IMPORTANT.

@/McLarenBookClub: If you had told me last year that one of the most successful romantasy authors on the planet would be dating Lando Norris, I would have laughed. And yet, here we are. The crossover NOBODY predicted, but EVERYONE needed.

@/FaerieTalesAndFastLaps: Lizzie going from writing about fae warriors to sitting in the McLaren garage like it’s totally normal… Ma’am, are you aware you are LIVING in a fantasy novel? The girl with epilepsy who was never supposed to have this life, thriving in a world of speed, chaos, and international fame. Like, GIVE US THE BOOK.

@/WitchesAndWheelTracks: Me: “I don’t have time for a new hyperfixation.” Also me: scrolling through every single Lizzie Treshton tweet and trying to find evidence of Lando references in her books

@/RedBullButMakeItRomantasy: The way she could write a book about the F1 grid as if they were a fantasy court and it would SELL. Max as the battle-worn fae king. Lando as the mischievous prince who never takes things seriously until he does. Charles as the tragic heir with a prophecy on his shoulders. IT WRITES ITSELF.

@/TifosiTrash: Lando really fell for a girl who would 1000% choose Ferrari in a heartbeat. The irony is delicious.

@/JustHereForMara: Mara being the unexpected star of this relationship is something I deeply respect. She’s not just a service dog, she’s a cultural icon.

@/RomantasyAndRacing:  Lizzie fans: “She has changed our lives with her writing.” F1 fans: “She has changed our lives by making Lando’s life infinitely funnier.”

@/IlPredestinatoWife: CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE FACT THAT LIZZIE MET LEWIS HAMILTON. THIS WOMAN HAS BEEN A FERRARI FAN HER WHOLE LIFE. HER FAVORITE DRIVER IS LEWIS. DID SHE CRY? DID SHE PANIC? LANDO, GIVE US THE BEHIND-THE-SCENES.

@/ElvenQueenOfSpa:  This woman has had multiple New York Times bestsellers, a legendary romantasy series, a loyal fanbase that would riot for her… and now she’s dating one of the biggest names in F1. She is the moment.

@/Gasly’sCroissant:  Does this mean Lando is now legally required to read her books? I need this man live-reacting to An Autumn of Fire and Stone.

@/MaraForPaddockPass:  Mara needs a tiny headset. I need Lando to carry her into the paddock like the royalty she is.

@/ChaosGoblinV2:  Lando: “Babe, can you come to my race?” Lizzie: in a Ferrari shirt, holding a Lewis Hamilton book “Uhhhhh….”

@/KnightOfMcLaren:  Her books are all about fate, destiny, and soulmates. I need to know if she secretly believes she and Lando are fated. I NEED ANSWERS.

@/SoftForSoulmates: Lando and Lizzie being a thing is proof that life is just a long, weird fantasy novel and we are all side characters.

[cafelattaes]

afterglow | zcl

summary: in which you felt fed up with chenle and walked out after a fight, but you were uncertain whether he’d make an effort to save your relationship.

pairing: chenle x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff

word count: 2.1k

you were having an argument with chenle. you tried to tell him that you felt a little uneasy about one of his female friends, but he downplayed your emotions and it irked you.

"don't you think you're being unfair?" you asked, frustration evident in your voice. "you're allowed to be jealous of every single person you think is hitting on me, but i'm not even allowed to feel upset that you have a close friend who obviously likes you?"

chenle responded dismissively. "it doesn't matter if someone likes me. all my friends know i'm head over heels for you. besides, none of my friends have openly told me they like me. i can't say the same to you and your so-called guy friends."

"i already rejected him," you countered, your voice rising. "how many times do i have to tell you that?"

"it doesn't look like you did because he's obviously still expecting something from you." he retorted, crossing his arms.

"i don't know how else to convince you. why do you always do this? every time i try to tell you how i feel, you always find a way to somehow turn it around on me, and it ends with you feeling more upset than i am."

"look, you don't need to worry about me. i couldn't care less about anyone who might like me. but you? you're too soft with that friend of yours. you might not see it, but it's obvious to everyone else how he hangs all over you. and you're not doing enough to stop it."

"but i don't like him, i never did and i never will. you also have nothing to worry about. why can't you let it go?"

chenle sighed, his eyes narrowing. "the same reason you can't let go of your concerns about my friend. no matter what i say, you're still upset and you're still jealous. that's exactly how i feel."

"so what do you want me to do?" you asked, exasperated.

"nothing. you can't do what i want."

"you want me to stop being friends with him? is that it?" you asked, incredulous. "will you do it for me if i ask you the same thing?" you challenged him. but chenle didn't respond; he just rolled his eyes and turned his back on you.

you felt so pissed off. chenle was always so unfair to you whenever you had a fight. you almost screamed at him to get out, but then you remembered you were at his house. you grabbed your things and turned to the door. you were about to leave when you heard chenle's voice.

"you're leaving because of something so petty? seriously?" he said with a scoff.

you gave him a dirty look, your hand on the doorknob. "you were about to storm off to your room and shut me out anyway. we obviously don't want to see each other right now, so what's the point of me staying?" you didn't wait for him to respond. you immediately left, slamming the door behind you.

you knew you were being immature, but so was chenle. you weren't about to let him slam the door on you again, making you feel shitty and guilty, when he clearly didn't feel the same remorse. somehow, even when the fight was his fault, you always ended up being the first one to apologize. that made your stomach churn with resentment.

you weren't always like this. during the first few months of your relationship, you and chenle rarely fought. even when you did, they were just small arguments and you would always make up immediately. but now, almost two years into the relationship, after the honeymoon phase had worn off, things had changed dramatically. you started getting into more frequent and intense fights, and the tolerance and understanding that you had at the start had also faded.

honestly, part of the reason why you're always the first one to give in is that, no matter how angry you get at your boyfriend, you can never stay mad at him for long. you fear that if both of you remain stubborn and no one's going to swallow their pride, the fight would escalate and break the two of you apart. chenle, on the other hand, always seems to have no problem ignoring you for a long time. it only intensifies your frustration and hurt, making you feel even more upset with him than you already are.

you've decided you won't give in this time, no matter what. you're scared that he might do the same, matching your stubbornness with his own. but if he can't even swallow his pride for you, the person he claims to love most, then maybe you're better off apart.

you don't want that though — not really. your relationship, despite its flaws, means too much to you. you just hope he does things differently this time.

after leaving chenle's house, you returned to your own place. you tried to sleep, but your anger and frustration had morphed into a gnawing worry that made your stomach tied up in knots. deep down, you weren't confident that he would do right by you this time. the realization made you feel conflicted. is it really worth staying with him if this is how he consistently makes you feel?

the thought sent a wave of sadness through you. despite everything, you loved him deeply. the idea of your relationship ending made your chest tighten with fear. you didn't want this to be the final straw.

tears welled up in your eyes, spilling over onto your pillow. as you cried silently in your room, a mix of emotions washed over you; love, frustration, hope and disappointment all tangled together. eventually, exhaustion took over, and you drifted off into a fitful sleep.

your last conscious thought was a small hope that when you woke up in the morning, you'd see his name on the screen accompanied by an apology you'd been waiting for.

chenle sat by the sofa, his eyes fixed on his phone, waiting for your call. since you had walked out after your fight the night before, you still hadn't come knocking on his door. this was the first time you hadn't talked for this long after an argument. fear started creeping up because of the prolonged silence from you. his chest tightened at the thought that you might have finally decided you'd had enough of him and realized you deserved better. he couldn't bear the thought of losing you. as the day was coming to an end, the setting sun cast long shadows across his room, signaling the passage of time and deepening his anxiety.

he could no longer sit still and wait for you to come to him. what was stopping him from coming after you anyway? he didn't know. but he realized he had been selfish for always waiting for you to mend things all this time. chenle felt like he could lose you easily to other people; you were surrounded by many who liked you and wanted to be with you. because of that, he always felt threatened. letting you come to him first after a fight somehow gave him a sense of security that you loved him enough not to let others steal you away from him.

but he realized now how dumb that was. instead, he could end up losing you because of his inaction. he snapped out of his reverie and grabbed his car keys, walking hastily through the door.

you heard someone ring your doorbell, and you checked to see who it was. your heart leaped in both happiness and relief at the sight of chenle standing outside your door.

if you weren't in a fight with him, you would laugh at how ridiculous he looked wearing sunglasses. you were pretty sure the sun had already set and it was dark outside.

you were feeling different kinds of emotions as you stood there. relief that he had come, nervousness about what he might say, and a stubborn remnant of hurt from your fight. you took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for whatever was to come as you opened the door, finally seeing him up close.

"can i come in?" chenle asked quietly. you didn't respond verbally, but opened the door wider, allowing him to enter.

you closed the door slowly before turning around to face him. chenle stood in the middle of your living room, looking uncharacteristically uncertain.

you leaned back against the door, arms crossed protectively over your chest, waiting expectantly for him to speak.

"i'm sorry," he said, his voice was soft and sounded a bit tired. "i'm sorry about everything. i was only thinking about myself and took your words lightly. i kept dismissing your feelings because i was blinded by my own jealousy. i didn't realize i was hurting you." he stepped closer, gently cradling your face in his hands. "please, forgive me. i don't want to lose you over some stupid fight. i know i haven't been the best at showing it, but i love you so much."

his words caused tears to well up in your eyes. for the past 24 hours, you had felt an uncomfortable tightness in your chest, each second away from him making you fear you were closer to losing him. you knew you both had much to discuss, and the way you communicated with each other needed improvement. but at that moment, you felt a surge of relief knowing that despite all the fights, chenle still loved you.

"thank you for coming to me, and i'm sorry too," you said, holding the hand that was caressing your face. "i have so many things to say... but first, can i take off your sunglasses? they're distracting." as you removed them, you felt your heart clenched at the sight. chenle's eyes were red and puffy, evidence of hours spent crying. the thought of him crying by himself made your sadness deepen, triggering your own tears as you immediately embraced him. "i'm so sorry for leaving you alone last night."

you didn't usually walk out during your fights, and your departure likely made chenle realize that this argument was unlike any other. he must have thought you had reached your limit. you now understood the depth of his fear of losing you, mirroring your own fear of losing him.

chenle encircled you in his arms, resting his head on your shoulder and burying his face in the crook of your neck. his embrace conveyed how much he had missed you.

"no, i am sorry. i deserved it," he murmured against your skin. "if you hadn't left, i probably would've done the same thing as before and not realized what i'd done wrong. you've been patient with me all this time. i'm sorry for all the times i ignored how you feel. i'll be better for you, i promise." he said, pressing a tender kiss on your forehead.

as you stood there in each other's arms, you both silently acknowledged the work ahead to strengthen your relationship. the warmth of your reconciliation filled the room, replacing the tension that had hung between you just moments before.

you and chenle were now cuddling on your bed. your chin rested on top of his head while gently running your fingers through his hair. the simple gesture made his heart flutter. his arm draped comfortably around your waist as he nestled against you, closing his eyes and basking in the peaceful aftermath.

as you lay there, feeling warm and loved, you felt so relieved. the tension from your fight completely melted away, and you felt even more in love.

chenle shifted slightly, tilting his head to look up at you. "i think i've figured out the secret to never fighting again."

you raised an eyebrow. "huh? what's that?"

"we just stay like this forever." he replied with a grin. "can't argue if we're too busy cuddling."

"tempting offer, but we'll get hungry eventually." chenle pretended to consider this seriously.

"then we take turns getting snacks while the other one guards the cuddle spot."

"guard it from what exactly?" he shrugged, snuggling closer.

"i don't know. cuddle thieves? it's a very coveted position, you know." you rolled your eyes in amusement.

"you're ridiculous."

"yeah," he leaned up to place a gentle kiss on your lips. "but you love me." he whispered against your mouth. you couldn't help but smile and steal another kiss from him.

as you snuggled back together, you felt calm and happy. in that moment, holding each other close, you both silently promised to stick together. you knew your love hadn't just survived, it had grown even stronger.

[yutarot]

ride or die. l.jn smau

023 — honesty. wc: 0.8k

YN POV

you have no idea what you’re doing. 

all jaemin had told you was that jeno was leaving tonight. 

so here you are, running between bodies and suitcases as you rush to his gate. you have to catch him, you have to tell him everything, even though you’re still unsure. but a maybe is stronger than a no, so you’ll take your chances. 

you hear his gate number called out on the airport intercom. 

‘the 6:25pm flight to melbourne, australia is now boarding. please make your way to gate 26.’

your head is pounding, blood rushing around your body in a circuit of fear.

this is your only chance. you can’t let him leave like this. 

after what feels like hours, you finally make it to his gate, floods of people mixing all around you.

but just as you reach the gate numbered 26, your heart sinks at the sight ahead of you.

the chairs, empty. the door, closed. 

you want to give in, let your legs collapse from below you. 

you’ve missed it: your only chance to make it all right between you, to tell him why you kissed him that night. 

the air around you stills, a current electrifying through you that you’ve never felt before, but just as you turn to leave, to go home in defeat, you understand why. 

stood meters before you, panting in exhaustion, hair messy and a suitcase dragging behind him, is jeno.

he studies you, really looks at you, before finally blinking. 

every word that you had prepared flies out of your mind, replacing it with an emptiness in which you know he also feels. he wasn’t expecting you here, he wasn’t expecting you to care at all, yet here you are, defeat on your features as you stand before him. 

“yn?..” he manages to mumble. 

“hi.” you let out a small smile, and he laughs back with you, disbelief flooding his features. 

you continue, “your plane.. it’s already left.” you say, and he laughs in response. you tilt your head to the side in question. 

he notices your confusion. “jaemin’s fault.” he rolls his eyes, “he told me the wrong airport, so i had to-”

“what?”

he’s taken aback by your sudden interruption.

“jaemin booked my flight, he got the airport wron-”

“no.. he didn’t?”

with confusion etched into his features, jeno furrows his brows. 

you continue. “jaemin told me to come here.”

there’s a moment of silence as you both piece together what this means. 

your heart is spinning, whirling in your chest like a loose guitar string. 

jaemin had told you both to go to different airports, he had made sure jeno would miss his flight, but why?

‘he needs this.’ 

thats what jaemin had told you last night, that's the reason he gave you for being here right now. 

needs what?

jeno sighs, looking down at his shoes. 

he knows exactly what this is about. jaemin had set you both up, to force him to tell you everything.

everything.

“i haven’t been honest with you, yn.”

time around you stops. “what do you mean?”

he puts down his suitcase, looking up at you to look in your eyes, his pupils searching yours for a flicker of doubt.

 “the night my identity got leaked, the night i came to your apartment, i didn’t come to accuse you of leaking my identity.”

you see him tense up, fists clenching.

you stand still, breathless as he keeps talking. 

“but when i saw chenle’s hoodie, i felt foolish, that everything i had done, that ruining my whole, entire life had been for nothing.”

mind soaring above you, you repeat his words in your mind, trying to make sense of what he's saying, but you can't.

“jeno? what are you talking abou-”

“it wasn’t jaemin who leaked my identity.”

you expect him to be joking, to let out a laugh, but when he doesn’t, anxiety courses through you. none of this, any of it, makes any sense.

“what? but-”

jeno interrupts you, as if no matter what reaction you give, he is intent on telling you anyways, a burden weighing down his shoulders that he is dying to rid of. 

“he was an idiot, hopelessly in love with someone he couldn’t have, hoping for a chance that you would be able to love him for him, for everything he was, everyone he was.”

you shake your head. jaemin didn’t love you, not like that, not with emotion, or depth or..

“i'm not talking about jaemin, yn.”

your breath stills as your eyes find his.

“im talking about me.”

you can’t move.

“its me that leaked my identity.”

you can’t breathe.

“it’s me that’s in love with you.”

previous : mlist : next

notes; i’m back hehe. also i have a written fic in the works as an apology <333 but hope u like this chap!! there’s 2 left 😖

taglist — open! @jenohyun @jirsungs @do-you-remember-summer-127 @ddolbyong @stqrgr7 @thatsatricky1 @sunghoonsgfreal @nattan127 @ssweetreveries @flamingi @chenlesfavorite @peterm4rker @snoopyjimin @akunoeyebrows @junviadinho @slayhaechan @f6llsun @multifandomania @cookiehaos @catecita @mrsjohnnysuh @luv4jeno @hyuckies18 @dreamiestay @tangerinelovelees @jjaegyeom @https-yeonjun @nanaxwi @yukisroom97 @nosungluv @mrkleelvr @neocrashed @jaedgemental @apolloxxivmin @kyubing @catdonut657 @dudekiss3r @juyeonshour @hamjwis @antifrggile @mmjhh1998 @thegracerammy @jenocity23 @honeynanamin @bluedbliss @lampcults @yyangj3lly

[arandomao3user]

Hey there buddy-

We might need pt 2 of that Tim!preg okay? (just to know see what happens and because I'm scrapping the fandom dry hunting for trans!Tim x Bernard content)

Definitely not a threat or anything xx 😊🔪

(/j)

Woah. Threats. *Eats your knife*

ANYWAYS! I think I have several but I'm gonna assume you mean the latest, and I agree, especially fanfic wise because whatchu mean there's NO Timbern baby fics besides the one where Tim aborts the baby!? I mean, valid, go off, king, loved that fic, BUT WHERE IS THE ANGST!?!? Tim would keep a baby just to punish himself because you know he's got the words most MESSED UP MIND! /overdramatic

So.

—

Tim: I was going to tell everyone.

Stephanie: When?

Tim: . . . Eventually?

Damian: You have been patrolling with a growing fetus in your womb.

Tim: Ew, don't word it like that.

Bruce: You're so young.

Tim: You adopted an eight year old when you were nineteen.

Dick: But he didn't get pregnant with me!

Duke: Still need a DNA test, all y'all look the same. Tim, you're baby better be born lookin' more like Bernard 'cause of sick of this cloning bulls#&$.

Cassandra: Why did you not tell us?

Tim: Honestly? Bear and I had bets to see when the world's greatest detectives would figure it out.

Everyone:

Tim: Congrats, Kon figured it out first.

Kon, from Kansas: :D

—

Bruce, staring at ultrasounds Tim gave him: My first grandchild...

Dick: Are... Are you good, B?

Bruce:

Alfred: Now you know how I felt when you brought home Master Dick.

Dick: You called him irresponsible and reckless before offering me cookies and an old pair of B's pajamas?

Alfred: Exactly.

—

Jason: So, who's last name is she taking?

Damian: Tt, it better be Wayne. I do not plan on procreating and someone needs to continue the Wayne family name.

Tim: Nah, we're just gonna combine three last names and. Just. See how that goes.

Damian: What?

Tim: Dowd-Drake-Wayne.

Jason: That's horrible.

Tim: When they're an adult they can just choose which one they like best.

Tim: Give 'em options.

—

Dick: So, how'd you decide you wanted kids?

Tim:

Tim: How'd you decide you wanted a mullet?

Dick: Understood.

—

Tim: Now that the public knows I'm pregnant, it makes things a lot more hilarious.

Bruce: Tim, you washed out a bottle of bleach, filled it with sprite, and drank out of it in the middle of a gala last night!

Tim: The commissioner thought it was funny.

Bruce: You did the same thing with fruit punch and an empty bag of saline last week.

Tim: Not my fault the public is gullible.

Bruce: And three weeks ago, to get out a meeting, you spilled water on the floor and proceeded to yell "My water broke!" Before walking out the room.

Tim: You wish you were me.

—

Cassandra: How are you handling not drinking zesti or energy drinks..?

Tim, staring at the ceiling with bags under his eyes: I talked to God, he had no answers, only questions..

Cassandra:

—

Tim, talking to his stomach: I swear, if you become anything like me I will personally ground you till you graduate high school.

Bernard: Tim, I joined a cult.

Tim: And I became a vigilante at thirteen years old and spent a year training alone overseas with a stranger that was also an assassin.

Bernard: . . . Hopefully our baby is nothing like either of us.

Tim: What if it's like both of us!?

Bernard: Oh gods...

—

Stephanie: How's it feel being pregnant?

Tim: I understand why my Mother only did it once.

Stephanie: Same.

—

Bruce: How... Do I hug you?

Tim: ??? What?

Bruce, gesturing to Tim's stomach:

Tim: Bruce. I am not gonna break.

Bruce: Hrn...

Tim, sighing heavily and hugging Bruce:

—

Jason, staring at Tim's baby: Why is it small?

Tim, holding a baby girl: It's a baby human. What did you expect?

Jason: It's the side of my hand.

Tim: Yes. It is. A baby.

Stephanie: She's so cute!

Bruce: Were all my kids this small once?

Tim: Technically, I was smaller because I was born prematurely. Her name is Darla.

Bruce: T_T

—

Bruce: . . .

Darla: •-•

Bruce: I am Batman.

Darla, cooing:

Bruce: Thank you for your support.

—

Jason, whispering: Remember, if you ever see a clown, ya shoot 'em.

Darla, cooing and making grabby hands for Jason:

Jason: See? You got it! Oh, and never follow anyone into a warehouse, got it? Especially your parents, never know who ya can trust.

Darla, giggling:

Jason: You think this is funny!? This is life saving advice, kid.

Tim: . . . Why are you in my house?

Jason: None of your business!

Tim: You're talking to my kid!

—

Bernard, sitting next to Darla on the couch: So, what's your opinion on politics?

Darla: •-•

Bernard: I know, I know, Luthor wasn't the brightest but he did do good for American school systems.

Darla, cooing:

Bernard: I hear you, but I'm just saying sometimes you gotta take the good with the bad.

Tim: Are you talking politics with our baby?

Bernard: She knows more then she's letting on, Tim! She's seen things...

Tim: She spits up and gets excited over pea and corn baby food.

Bernard: That's just her cover.

Darla: •-•

—

Tim, slipping inside, in his Red Robin uniform: Hey, Darla, just here to say goodnight before I go out—

Darla, crying:

Tim: What? No, no, it's Daddy!

Bernard: I told you the cowl was stupid.

Tim, groaning, taking the cowl off: Happy?

Darla: :o

Tim: Okay, fine, I'll switch to a domino.

Darla, giggling:

Bernard: Glad we're all in favor.

—

Damian: I know, it must be so disappointing, eagerly awaiting your own birth to meet that of whom you've lived in for as long as time itself has existed to you, only to realize that it was Timothy.

Darla, giggling and grabbing her feet:

Damian: It is not a laughing matter, I pity you, he doesn't even have a spleen! Honestly, I would've just moved mine out the way.

Darla, cooing:

Damian: Well, welcome to the Robins club. You will be a fine apprentice.

—

[melanchoire]

bartender(is that how you call it??) sub!hanni x soft dom! ceo gp reader🥺👉🏻👈🏻 it's been in my head for too long and i can't think of a plot 😔 i hope you do it tho

-📽

i had an idea in mind but it ended up being something else... i changed the dynamics a bit 💔

cw: riding.

going to a bar to drown your sorrows because being a CEO was a tough job and work had been shitty lately; conferences with other companies and CEOs that only gave you headaches because they were simple and empty proposals led by arrogant bosses who felt they were the center of the world, having to be patient and fake a smile with a secretary who seemed to have laziness as the predominant emotion in her body because she always did her work with little enthusiasm and somewhat incompletely, and dealing with employees who increasingly failed to meet the job requirements

like any other day where you feel this way you would do the usual thing of just going home after a long day of work and drinking on your couch means that your mind is so clouded that you don't understand a single word that the people on television are saying, buuut you needed a change of routine so much that you didn’tmind going to a local bar in the city center

bad luck for you that it just happens to be a friday night, meaning teenagers or young adults going out to parties or something simpler like hanging out with their friends, whatever the option, the place was plagued by young people who were too loud and were gradually irritating you

until a voice pulls you out of your thoughts! a pretty young girl with hair tied in a messy bun and thin-framed glasses resting on her nose. she just smiled at you and tilted her head, wiping a damp cloth over the bar and cleaning the remains of drops of alcohol that fell when preparing the previous drinks

“rough night i guess?” oh yeah! you can’t tell if she is making fun of you given the small smile tugging at her lips, but your tone was being quite honest, so you just had to cross your fingers

“you can say it…” and your usual serious and strict CEO demeanor had completely vanished, being replaced by… vulnerability? honestly, you didn’t know what caused your change of attitude. maybe it was because being able to vent to someone was something you'd been looking for for months, but you never succeeded because your family always reminded you that you were an adult and that you shouldn’t act like a baby with “basic” work-related problems, or something like your friends always minimizing your problems and making jokes about how the “rich girl” expected mommy and daddy to solve everything for her…

you end up venting to hanni?? you don’t know if she is really interested in listening to you or if she simply doesn’thave other clients to serve because her other coworkers are taking care of it while she deals with your drunk ass… whatever the option, you’re thankful that she is a good listener! she was even being a good advisor, not understanding much about the scope of working in an office and having a position as high as that of a CEO, but anyway, she was there for you

until there comes a point where your system clearly can’t tolerate any more alcohol and you’re practically lying in the chair, looking so messed up that at any moment your body will fall off the chair straight to the floor 😭 hanni helps you go to your car and get in; partly because she is a little embarrassed by your messy state and how you even struggled to tell her which of all the cars in the parking lot was yours, and also because her coworker minji told her to take care of your drunk ass before she kicks you out of the place herself because she didn’t want you to throw up in the bathroom right after she cleaned all the stalls!

…would you believe me if i told you that you don’t remember exactly how you went from hanni helping you out of the bar to her riding your cock in the backseat of your car? i mean–! it’s not your fault that alcohol impairs your memory because it’s a central nervous system depressant that slows down brain activity! giving you blackouts, which are gaps in your memory of events that occurred while you were intoxicated, and boy were you drunk! aol you remembered at this point was leaving work, blinking, and suddenly getting so drunk and BOOM a cute girl was riding you…

awww and your head is spinning so much that you can barely lay your head against the headrest of the seat and keep it there without feeling like it’s weighing you down 😭 luckily hanni notices this and comes to the rescue! bringing her hands to your head, holding your face between her palms and running a hand through your hair to brush the loose strands away from your face 🥺 you were looking at her from below with eyes squinted from tiredness and clouded by alcohol, giving hanni a needy look as she rode you in a way that took you out of your boss bitch role and made you whimper for her

you barely mustering up enough strength to try and make a move, pushing yourself off your seat and leaning forward a little to try and kiss her, only for her to place one of her hands over your mouth and push you back against the seats again, saying “owww nooo you have alcohol on your breath.” 💔 but when she sees that you want to complain about her words, she silences you by giving you a sweet kiss on the cheek, adding "fifteen more minutes and my shift will be over. then you will take me home with you, right?” and never before have you nodded with that enthusiasm!

[dumplingsjinson]

List of “(un)requited love” prompts 

Requested by: @girlwonder-writes Request: “I would like 24 prompts about unrequited love please!” 

“You’re the best thing that will never happen to me.”

“I love you. I know it’s one-sided. And that’s okay. I just needed you to know.”

“I swore to everything I love that I would never catch feelings for someone like you, but here we are. And what’s worse is you don’t feel the same, and I’m the one who’s going to embarrass themselves when all is said and done.”

“I don’t ask for you to love me back. I only ask you to understand it will take time for me to stop feeling this way for you.” 

“I never asked to fall for someone whom I know doesn’t feel the same way.”

“There’s a twisted beauty in being in love with someone who doesn’t feel the same.” 

“What’s worse is, this is the first time I’ve genuinely felt this way about someone.”

“Do my feelings disgust you that much that you can’t even look me in the eyes now?” 

“I’ve always known that you don’t feel that way towards me. I just… Didn’t expect you to confirm it in a way that would both embarrass and hurt me.”

“Even love itself bested me.” 

“Your mind’s not occupied by anyone else, so why can’t you let it be occupied by me instead? Like you occupy mine.”

“I mean, it would be nice if I was given even one chance to prove myself to you.”

“I respect that you don’t like me back, so I hope you can at least respect my feelings for you.”

“Did you really just ask me if I know how it feels to not have someone love you back like that? Me, the biggest lovesick loser of them all?”

“I’m tired. I want to let go.” 

“I don’t want to feel like this way towards you anymore.”

“I’m not used to this lack of reciprocation.”

“Not to be a whiney bitch, but why can’t I be the one?” 

“I don’t mind loving them from afar if it means I get to keep them in my life.” 

“If I let go of you now… Then I’m letting go of you forever. And I don’t know… I don’t know if I can do that just yet.”

“We could be something more but there’s just one thing missing.” “Which is…?” “You also holding the same feelings for me, as I hold for you.” 

“I fell for you, fully knowing the risks… Yet I was still unprepared for the crash.” 

“This is why I never wanted to tell you how I felt! I knew it would ruin everything between us, and that’s exactly what’s happening right now.”

“You warned me not to fall for you. And it’s my fault I didn’t listen.”

Join my Discord server: Steaming Dumplings Nation

[anemhoez]

The King…

Mydei/AFAB!Reader

WARNINGS: choking, slight size kink, blood and language

A/N: call me the deliverer for i have deliverered 🙂‍↕️ i wanna suck the skin off of this man MY GODDDD 😭 feral, scratching, fiending, needing, crazy, scary, spooky NOT HILARIOUS IM FOAMING AT THE MOUTH!!!! 🤭🤕 (also happy valentines day! i didnt plan on posting this today 😭 but it works hehe)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

The cool breeze atop the mountain pricked your skin deliciously as you cooled down from your run. With a heavy breath, you sat on a nearby ruined wall waiting for Mydei, your instructor for the past couple of months. You were busy working your way up the ranks in the Okhema legion, thanking Lady Aglaea everyday for assigning you to the man you were certain was the fiercest and strongest warrior in all the land.

The would be king of Castrum Kremnos was uncharacteristically tardy today however, having you here waiting for almost half an hour now. You sighed impatiently and resigned yourself to preparing your sword for sparring with him, trying not to let your mind wander too much about why he was so late.

It wasn’t too long after your prep that you heard his heavy footsteps approaching, causing you to stand up at the ready.

The blonde and fiery red ombré haired man met eyes with you, a smile nowhere to be found on his face as he stood before you. He looked absolutely disheveled. His usual tidy braid was undone and his golden armor barely on his body properly as he hastily tried to adjust it before getting started.

“How inconsiderate of you, keeping your student waiting! Surely this is not the example you wish to set for me?” you said with a laugh, quickly shutting up when he focused his golden eyes on you as his fingers quickly finished fixing his armor, his hands moving to rest at his sides. “Anything else you wish to say?”

You shook your head and took in his form further as his own stare trailed down your body. The red and purple marks that had already bloomed on his neck and collarbones stood out against his skin, the scratches on his arms almost followed the lines of his bright red tattoos. You adjusted your stance, his eyes finally done checking you over, “You’re injured?” he said with a grunt as he moved closer, no detail ever getting past his keen eyes.

You watched as he squatted before you, taking your ankle in his armoured hands. You fought back the flush that threatened to erupt over your body as he looked up at you. “You’re still so carless with your body. Just how do you expect to fight like a Chrysos Heir if you can’t even maintain a strong physique?” He scoffed and stood up, letting go of your ankle unceremoniously.

“I slipped on some stones while on my run waiting for you to arrive!” You yelped as if it was his fault and not the stones being slightly slick from the morning dew. The sudden thought of him spending the morning with someone who was more important than you flashed through your head and you realized just how whiney you must have sounded in that moment. But it didn’t stop you from pondering about what exactly had he done to that person he shared his time with to warrant those scratches and marks?

“I was preoccupied. My apologies.” he said and turned from you, his half exposed back donning those same types of scratches. You almost spat back sarcastically, but as if he read your mind, he cut off your thoughts. “I will let your slip of the tongue pass for now, but from now own,” he said in his deep voice as his hand rested on his belt. “You will speak to me only when spoken to, understand?”

A part of you wanted to resist, the two of you having had many childish banter type of conversations before, but you just nodded instead. “Yes, my lord.” you said with a bow and stood at the ready awaiting his tutelage. “Go, run.” he said simply and your body tensed, about to protest but he need only give you a look before you turned on your heel with a grunt.

The pain in your ankle wasn’t as bad as when you first slipped, but by the time you returned from your run, it was throbbing. You walked back with a slight limp, “So, what’s next?” you huffed and he simply pointed to the bandage roll and small tub of salve on the ruined wall you were sitting on earlier.

You sighed and sat down on the cold stone, applying the remedy and wrapping your ankle. “Take five.” he said as he sat next to you.

You moved your ankle around and sighed, looking over to Mydei who was busy on his teleslate. He must have sensed your eyes on him, “Have something on your mind?” he said with a smirk.

“Did you, get in a fight last night? Or, this morning?” you asked stupidly, already knowing exactly what he had gotten into. Mydei put his teleslate away and leaned back, “You could say that.” He stretched out his arms and looked at the scratches that had piqued your curiosity.

“But of course, I always emerge victorious.” his voice was cockier than usual, his arms flexing as he crossed them over his chest.

You expected this behavior from the rumors you heard about him, the prince turned Chrysos Heir was known among the other soldiers for his prowess and his, considerable size.

“I don’t think I need to remind you that-“ you were about to remind him about the agreement the two of you made when you signed on to be his student.

“I know. And again, I apologize. You have my word it will not happen again.” He seemed sincere, and remorseful for wasting your precious time. You stood up and bowed, “Thank you, shall we get started then?”

He nodded and stood to his feet, the size difference between the two of you evident when he stood before you. You inhaled his musky clove scent, his hand moving to your cheek. His clawed armor gently brushing against your skin as he rolled his eyes.

“Gods, what a reckless student I have.” he said as his thumb rubbed against the scratch on your cheek. You quickly moved away from him and shrugged it off, “Says the man who charges recklessly into battle just cause he’s immortal.” He couldn’t hold back a smile as the two of you readied yourselves to begin sparring.

“Again.” Mydei spoke calmly, not even looking your way as you readied yourself. You had been running this maneuver for a while now, and you were exhausted.

“Surely I’ve already perfected this specific move, just how long will i have to continue?“ Mydei just turned to you, “Again!” he said with more conviction in his voice. You sighed and immediately rushed to him, sword above your head, but he easily dodged you.

He swiftly moved aside and grabbed you by your collar, “It’s as if you’ve learned nothing.” he said and easily tossed you aside.

Your sword clanged to the ground as you landed on your side. “You haven’t perfected anything at all, mortal.” You groaned out in frustration, “I would’ve sliced through your arm had you not been wearing armor!.” you exclaimed and stood up quickly.

He scoffed and you watched as he began removing the armor from his arms, attempting to level the playing field for you. His tattooed skin exposed, more scratch marks telling a story of where he had been that morning.

“You believe my enhancements give me an upper hand?” He spoke angrily as he tossed them to the ground. “Come at me now, reckless student.”

You charged at him again, this time with just your fists. The two of you exchanged blow for blow, managing to dodge each other’s attacks easily. He chuckled once he realized the moves you were using were his own and you kept at it until he started to play dirty.

He kicked out your leg from under you about to knock you off balance, but you caught yourself and pushed him back with a headbutt.

His head snapped back but the immortal man before you recovered quickly, a smile spreading on his face. “Thats it, fighting like a true warrior!” He yelled and lunged forward, returning the favor with a headbutt of his own.

Your vision went blurry as you stepped back, covering your nose, attempting to feign a serious injury to get him to lower his guard.

“Ouch!” you yelped and he quickly came to you, breathing heavy and trying to wave it off as you pretended to cry. He smirked and reached down to see the damage but was quickly overtaken by you and thrown onto his back.

You then snatched the heirloom he wore proudly from his neck, your hands immediately going to choke him. The look on his face was surprised at first, then it fell to one of concern as you tried to squeeze at the taught muscles. He was silent as you squeezed his neck, even the birds chirping close by knowing it would take more than this to truly kill him.

You soon came to your senses once you met eyes with him as a blush was beginning to creep on his cheeks, the space where your lower bodies touched stiffening against his pants.

You could feel his bulge against your clothed body, immediately letting go of his neck. You were too taken aback to move, simply looking down at him as he avoided your gaze.

What felt like a few awkward minutes, was really only a few seconds of silence before he trailed his hands gently up your thighs. He finally sat up, his face so close to yours that you felt his breath on your lips. The two of you locked eyes, breaths mingling so closely together for the first time.

Your heart rate picked up as his claws dug into your skin, a silent plea for you to move your hips against him. You rutted against him apprehensively as a deep growl came from his throat. He shut his eyes as he gripped you tighter, bringing you closer so that your core was right on top of him. You whimpered breathlessly, feeling just how big he was under you. your gut soon erupting with that familiar feeling of a rubber band about to snap.

Your hands went to his shoulders, then to his back where you dragged your nails against his already wounded skin. You probably seemed so desperate, whining like a bitch in heat and rutting hard against your instructor. Your mouth went to his, his lips hot against yours as the two of you finally closed the gap and kissed.

You’d be lying to yourself and all of Okhema if you said you hadn’t imagined this very thing over and over again. Especially after class when he’d be sweaty and out of breath.

You imagined his large frame above you, below you, and behind you as he took you right on this mountaintop. And Hearing the rumors about him as a lover didnt help ease those thoughts either.

You wanted him, bad. But it looks as though it was only one sided, as he moved his hands up your back and to your shoulders. He pushed you back gently and away from his sweet and tender kiss.

You immediately stood up and moved away from him, “My lord please accept my apologies, I overstepped!” you bowed, hoping to hide your face from the sheer embarrassment you felt.

He stood up and turned away from you, clearing his throat before he spoke, “We’re done for today, go get some rest.” he said simply and headed off without another word after collecting his things.

You arrived for training the next day, only to see Phainon standing where Mydei usually did. “It’s about time!” he said with a smile as you walked up. You bowed to him and he immediately assured you that that behavior wouldn’t be necessary. “Does Mydei make you bow to him? How absurd!” he said with a laugh.

You shook your head, “Well no but he never says anything when I do it so, I suppose it’s a habit of mine now.” The silver haired man nodded, “Well alright then, shall we begin?” You looked around, wondering why Mydei wasn’t here, soon remembering what happened the day before. “I don’t mean to be rude your grace but, is Mydei not joining us? Is he alright?” your face went hot, hoping he didn’t know the details of yesterday’s class, what with being such good friends and all.

He blushed, “Calling me your grace isnt necessary either, makes me feel, old.” he cleared his throat. “And no, he wanted me to extend his apologies and remorse. He also asked if I could take over your training from here on, if that’s s ok with you of course.” Your heart sank, realizing you had indeed overstepped the day prior. “Did he, give you any reason as to why? Was I underperforming or-?“

Phainon put his hands out in front of him, “Not at all! He actually praised your skill, he simply needs a break. After the events with Nikador, he’s much more overwhelmed than he lets on.” He looked at you as he cleared his throat, thinking you must be very uncomfortable with this new arrangement. “Will there be an issue? Should I send for another instructor?”

You immediately shook your head, “Gods no youre gr- uhm, Lord Phainon! I’m honored truly! It’s just a bit surprising is all, but I look forward to learning from you.” you said in appreciation and stopped yourself from bowing to him.

The two of you sparred and you indeed learned a few new things from him, but his style was completely different from the man you were used to. You were grateful to have another Chrysos Heir think you worthy enough of their time, but you agreed to be taught by Mydei and a part of you really missed him. The man that you had idolized for years now.

“Alright great work today! How about a drink later? My treat!” he said with a bright smile. “Tonight? Are you not too busy, my lord?” you asked, knowing just what his title as demigod entailed. He waved you off playfully, “Nonsense, i could use some relaxation, and please, Phainon is just fine!”

You nodded and soon headed home. Alrhough Phainon did his best to assure you Mydei was fine, you couldnt help but think it was all your fault for his resignation. You thought it a grand idea to mull over your thoughts with some good wine, and having a cute knight by your side wasn’t so horrible.

Later on that evening, you arrived at the tavern Phainon told you to meet him at. You felt slightly odd, dressed down and out of your fighting gear. You opted for a simple silk dress and your favorite pearl bracelets, family heirlooms your mother gifted you when you left your small village to fight for Okhema. You knew you cleaned up nicely and the looks you were getting as you walked in proved it. You adjusted your shawl you wore around your shoulders and looked around, hoping to find Phainon sitting somewhere nearby.

Your eyes fell on your former instructor Mydei, his hand rising to signal the barkeep for another round. Your heart raced, wanting to run out, but you stopped when you felt a familiar presence behind you.

“You made it!” Phainon’s cheery voice brought you out from your hasty escape plan. “Yeah, looks like Mydei is here too, shall we sit with him?” you looked down at your hands, hoping this interaction between the three of you wouldn’t be too weird.

“Hey, you alright?” Phainon’s voice was soft as he brought your face to look up at him gently. “Yes, I-I’m fine.” you smiled and the two of you turned to head over to where Mydei sat. “You look absolutely stunning by the way.” the knight said, making sure it was loud enough for his friend to hear. You thanked him kindly and upon turning towards the bar, you met with Mydei’s sharp golden eyes, his face looking incredibly unamused with what he just saw and heard.

“Good, you’re here too! Drinks are on me.” Phainon got the barkeeps attention as you sat in the empty seat between the two men. You sat quietly as you waited, unsure of how to start a conversation, thinking that Mydei probably didn’t even want to speak to you.

The drinks arrived and Phainon encouraged a salute. “So, how did you like class today? Learn anything?” Phainon asked before taking a swig from his cup. “I definitely did my lord, thank you for sharing your expertise with me.” you thanked him and he clinked his glass against yours.

Mydei audibly groaned before taking a sip causing Phainon to chuckle. and lean over to address him. “Oh what’s that? Feeling inferior?” he asked the warrior as he raised an eyebrow.

Mydei flicked his eyes to his friend, “To you? Never in a million years.” he spoke clearly and with confidence. You watched him take a deep sip from his cup, the drink spilling out the sides and onto his chin. He slammed the cup on the counter and wiped the crimson liquid that resembled blood off of his face.

You realized you were staring, caught yourself and quickly downed your glass. “Thirsty?” Phainon asked playfully. “I suppose so, it’s been a long week.” You answered, soon venting about the very mundane things that happened the past few days.

You then remembered what transpired between you and Mydei, suddenly ceasing from speaking, the thought making your hands sweaty. The three of you sat quietly, awkwardly sharing a silence that was so thick it could be cut by a knife.

Phainon suddenly excused himself and the tension just rose even further. You and Mydei sat in an uncomfortable silence now, neither one of you knowing what to do, as if the two of you suddenly forgot how to speak the common tongue. You inhaled the stifling air and finally turned to him.

“I’m sorry about yesterday, I should never have, you know. Please don’t let that stop you from teaching me Lord Mydei.” you spoke quickly, hoping to get it off of your chest as soon as possible in case he decided to walk away from you. He finally turned to you, his mouth twisting into a grimace.

Gods he seemed angry, did he hate you now? You suddenly felt so guilty, hoping Phainon would come back and diffuse the situation. “You have nothing to be sorry for, I should have practiced more restraint.” he said with a sigh. “I pride myself in self control everywhere but the battlefield so, I should be the one to apologize.”

You were going to press him further but the silver haired knight returned in that moment. “Another round?” he offered with a smile, looking over at Mydei for reassurance. Would he really have to up the stakes to get his friend to finally confess to you?

You nodded and Mydei just grunted as his friend ordered for them. Phainon moved closer to you, his arm reaching behind you and tugging on your shawl. “You’re not too hot with this?” he asked with a smile, holding the silk in his fingers. He winked playfully at you, your head too busy thinking of how foolish you were to notice his advances.

You honestly thought for a second if you were, and slipped the shawl from your shoulders. “Actually I kind of am.” you laughed absentmindedly and the two men watched as you exposed more of your skin to them.

Mydei slammed his cup down onto the bar, the loud bang causing you and Phainon to look over at him. “May I have a word with you Lord Phainon?” His voice was serious as he walked up between the two of you. You felt a faint heat radiating from the prince as his clawed hand scratched at the wooden material of the bar in front of you. “Outside?”

Phainon met his eyes with a smile. “Of course.” he said slightly apprehensively, his eyes flicking to yours before he got up and walked out of the bar with a very angry Mydei.

Mydei walked in front of phainon, his hands slightly glowing red as he breathed hard. “Mydeimos?” his friend called him by his full name in jest, knowing exactly what he was feeling, but feigning ignorance instead to let him know his advances towards you weren’t meant to be taken seriously.

“What in the hells do you think you’re doing?” he asked bluntly, keeping his distance as to not hurt his close friend and rival. Phainon scoffed, “I’m trying to help out my friend who’s doing a horrible job at trying to get the person he loves to sleep with him. How’s about a bit of gratitude?” the knight said slyly as his friend paced back and forth.

“You know I don’t want to just sleep with them! My feelings are real, and the only thing you’re doing is pissing me off! So get lost, deliverer.” he said angrily and headed back into the tavern. Phainon just shook his head and headed home. “Well fuck me and my efforts then!” he exclaimed to no one but himself.

You asked the barkeep for a glass of water and prepared to leave, right as Mydei walked back into the tavern. “Oh, were you heading out?” he asked observing how you looked like you were ready to head off. “It’s getting late, where’s Phainon?” you asked and he sighed. “He had to go, he extends an apology and says he’ll see you for training in two days.”

You finally realized what was going on now that Phainon wasn’t coming back. Actually Phainon seemed to make sure to get close and be extra flirty with you. Did Mydei tell him something? Does Mydei have feelings for you too? Did Phainon plan this whole thing?

“Ah, right.” was all you said as the two of you soon sat in another awkward silence. He cleared his throat to start up a new conversation, not wanting the night to end early.

“So, how is the deliverer as a teacher?” he asked with a smug laugh. “Skilled, but I could tell he was holding back.” You leaned forward with a sigh, hoping that your silent pleas could sway Mydei to pick you up as a student again.

“Is that so? Did you tell him you’re much stronger than you look?” he asked and his eyes fixed on you. Your eyes went wide and you tried to hold back a smile but failed. “Did you just, give me a compliment Lord Mydei?”

He went red, his face turning away from you. “What I mean to say is, did you let him know he doesnt need to hold back?” he said with an awkward cough.

You let his praise sink in, finally being acknowledged by the man you considered to be the strongest warrior in the city. “I let him teach me how he pleased, I figured it wouldnt be long before you came back?” you asked him with an eyebrow raised.

He went quiet again, opening his mouth to speak but no words came out. Your breath hitched in your throat, your hands getring sweaty once again as you tried to still your nerves. “It’s probably best that Phainon remains your instructor, after what happened.”

You nodded and thought about how foolish you were for reacting the way you did. You wanted to take that moment back, hating how you had made him feel. “It shouldn’t have happened and I’m sorry that I put you in that position.” He said as he took a drink and downed his glass completely, the sheer amount of alcohol he had consumed not even having an effect on his immortal body. “Does Phainon know what happened?” you asked, feeling even more inadequate now, wondering if he had said something about you to him.

“No, that’s not something I’d brag about, he only knows what I told him to tell you.” he sighed and you were about to cry from embarrassment when he laughed. “Didn’t stop him from trying to make me jealous tonight though, he’s cunning I’ll give him that.”

He turned to you with a smirk, “He’d go crazy if he knew we kissed, he already thinks there’s something going on between us.” Your head went fuzzy, trying hard to piece together what he was saying. “Sorry what?”

Mydei chuckled, “A teacher with their student is propostrous, dont you think?” Your eyes were fixed on his lips as he talked. “Of course, proposterous.” you gulped, nodding along as he moved closer, his hand now on your thigh. “That’s why phainon will be your teaher from now on. So there’s no conflict of interest?” His eyes went to your lips, his tongue darting out to lick his own in anticipation. It’s as if the room went suddenly silent, with only the two of you here in this moment as he leaned closer and closer. “ And perhaps I can still, give you, private lessons?” His voice and words cut through you wholly, his hand squeezing your thigh as you met his gaze once again.

He closed the gap and kissed you, in front of everyone in this tavern, not caring what rumors might spread about the two of you. You pulled away from him however, a sudden apprehension overtaking you. You remembered the marks on his neck, the scratches he received from someone else. Someone you assumed to be his lover.

He observed your reaction and pulled back. “I’m sorry! I assessed the moment incorrectly it seems.” He turned away from you and stared into his empty cup, the frown on his face somewhat endearing.

“Mydei, surely you have a significant other? Those marks you had on your body the other day, I know they weren’t from an actual fight.” you said as a heat crept on your cheeks. He rubbed the back of his head, “Right. That was just someone I used to keep my bed warm.” he said, not intending for it to come out as smugly as it did.

You nodded with a laugh, “Oh, I see. Then you mean to use me to keep your bed warm as well?” you asked him honestly, a judging eyebrow raising as you looked at him. His smile dropped, “It’s not like that, I swear to you.” the sincerity that dripped in his voice made your heart flutter. “Oh yeah? And how’s that?” you asked playfully, the smile that spread on your face making it seem to him like you thought this was all a joke. The warrior stood up immediately, “Because I actually like you!”

The tavern went quiet for real this time, the two of you looking around awkwardly. He grunted and sat back down, sighing deeply. “God if Phainon could see me now.” he said with his head in his hands. You giggled, “I appreciate your honesty my lord.” Your hands shook as you downed the last of your drink, readying yourself to confess your feelings back. “I like you too, more than you might think.”

You quickly turned away with a flushed face, the cocky smirk on his face making you want to take that confession back in jest. “There’s s no going back now, darling.” he said as he pulled you closer to him. “I always had a feeling you know, not much can get past me.” he whispered in your ear before kissing it.

“Hush now,” you said and pushed him away playfully with your elbow. You turned back to him, his golden stare never faltering. “I’d like that private lesson now, King Mydei.” you said and bit your bottom lip, your hand going to his thigh.

Mydei’s private chambers were just as elaborate as you expected. Extravagant decor befitting that of a man of royal birth. The red and gold silks, the plush pillows on his bed and the fine weaponry that adorned the walls gave you a tiny glimpse of what his life might have been like in his homeland. There was even a private bath in the corner, very different from the public ones in the city from what you could see. “Why is that water golden?” You asked before he scooped you up and brought you to his very soft and comfy bed. “Exclusive to the Chrysos Heirs, perhaps we can enjoy it together later.”

He sat down on the edge of his bed, making you straddle him as his large lap accommodated you perfectly. You grabbed his face gently and gave him a kiss, your hands trailing down to undo his braid without pulling away from the kiss. You pulled back and started to try to remove his armor as his hands rested on your lower back, his lips kising your neck and cheek desperately.

“Please let me finish my king.” you pushed him away and he groaned, leaning back for you and raising his arms to help you remove his gauntlets. Your hands then went to his ornate necklace and reached behind him to undo it correctly this time, delicately and without any bad intentions.

You then moved to undo the tie at his waist that held his tunic together. “It’s impressive how you are both naked and yet wearing so much clothing at the same time?” You giggled and he laughed along with you, his laughter quite infectious. You got off of him once you were done, slipping out of your dress. He watched as you removed your pearls and set them on the bedside table along with his necklace.

His eyes were fixed on you, watching as your hands undid the tie at your chest, the garment falling and your body going hot as you exposed your bare breasts to him. “Stunning, my love.”

Mydei reached out to you, noticing your apprehension to remove your underwear. You let him guide you to sit back on his lap. “We can go as slow as you need to.” Your heart swelled at his words and you leaned in to kiss him, your hips grinding against him as you exchanged a passionate kiss.

The two of you kissed like this for a while, the tough and brash warrior under you surprisingly gentle as his hands roamed all over your exquisite body. “Can I try something?” you asked softly against his lips. “Anything.” he answered and you pushed at his shoulders, motioning for him to get on his back. “I’ve been pondering something. What exactly happened to cause you to stir during our match the other day?”

You straddled his lap, “Was it the adrenaline from our fight? My body on yours? Or perhaps it was-?” Your hands trailed up his body, tracing his defined muscles all the way up to his neck. “My hands around your neck?” You squeezed and he moaned deeply. His bulge beneath you growing just like you had expected.

“Tighter, my love.” he asked with soft eyes and you obliged. He moaned louder as you gripped him tighter, your thumbs pressing against his adams apple just barely. He let out a strained breath, his hips bucking up against you roughly in appreciation.

You almost lost your balance from the intensity of it, retreating back to sitting on top of him and looking down into his eyes. He smiled at your tenacity and the warmth of the desire that dripped from between your legs. You leaned back on his large lap, bringing your hands to undo the belt that held his pants on his thick waist. The man under you was an absolute unit, you wondered how you were even able to fight against him on a daily basis as you finally took his glorious form completely into your mind.

With the buckle undone, you undid the button and ties that held them together, pulling them down just enough to free him from his confines. His large cock sprang free, your hands going to it immediately. “I should have known.” you said and you spit on his tip. He watched you with mesmerized eyes, your voice like a song as you praised him. The burly prince was clean shaven everywhere but here, his soft hairs trimmed short above his member, the colors matching the hair on his head.

You stroked him with one hand, the other resting on his thigh, your hands fumbling a bit, not really knowing what to do. You looked up at him, hoping he looked somewhat satisfied and caught him smirking at you devilishly. “You act as if you’ve never touched one before.” He said curiously as he leaned up on his elbows. You stopped and looked down at his intimidating cock, “Well, I havent actually.”

His smile fell, “Oh, that’s alright. I’ll teach you then.” he said before sitting all the way up and taking your mouth in a sloppy kiss. His tongue pushed up against yours, his dominance taking your breath away. He pulled away as drool dripped from your chin, his tongue quickly licking it up as he moaned. “You’re going to have to get very messy for me.” he said before standing up.

He removed the armor from his legs, laughing as you watched him undress and pretended to look at the time on your wrist. When he was finally exposed to you, you were surprised to see his red ink went further down and adorned his muscular thighs as well.

He took his dick by the base and reached out to hold you by your chin, “Open.” he said, and you opened your mouth apprehensively at first, then wider once he used his thumb to help you open it further.

“Good.” he huffed and pushed his fat tip into your mouth. You took as much of him in as you could, your mouth drooling all over him. “Mind your teeth,” he advised and pushed further in, surprised by how much of him you were able to take.

He was halfway in before you gagged, your body pulling back instinctively. “Perfect, now use both hands to stroke me.” his voice was deep and sultry and you looked up at him with teary eyes, taking him in both hands and pumping him eagerly. “Yes, just like that, my love.”

Mydei groaned, his deep growls shooting right through you and causing you to soak through your underwear even further. You sat on your knees rutting against nothing as you whined and took his tip into your mouth and sucked, his hand going to the back of yourr head. He stopped himself from pushing you further down, but you eagerly took as much of him as you could, pumping the rest of him with your hands.

You indeed got very messy for him, your saliva and his precum staining your face and dripping down your chin and onto your chest. “You’re an excellent student, learning so quickly. Keep at it.” his voice almost whiny as he complimented you.

You bravely held him by his hips now, pushing your head further down on him, almost to his base. The prince moaned deeply and breathed heavily as you almost took him all the way in. He pulled you off of him by grabbing a handful of your hair. He pumped himself as he watched you catch your breath, “May I?” he asked and you nodded as tears stung your eyes. Mydei moved closer while holding the back of your head, pushing his long thick cock into your mouth. The prince bottomed out into your mouth, releasing a satisfied moan as you scratched at his thighs, breathing through your nose so that he could enjoy your warm wet mouth further.

He locked eyes with you before pulling out completely, “You doing alright?” You nodded with hazy eyes, sticking your tongue out for him before pleading for more. “Mydei, need more of you, please.” He lifted you up and into his arms, kissing you hard while carrying you over to the bath that waited in the corner of the room. He walked the two of you into the warm golden water, his hardness hot against your slick cunt.

The water was so soothing, almost invigorating as he moved you to rest on the warm stoned edge. His hands tugged at the wet fabric of your underwear, pulling them off greedily and tearing the fabric in the process.

You felt his hands opening your legs, his fingers easily finding your slit and entering you confidently. You gripped at his back with a small yelp and he tensed up, breaking the kiss to look at you. “You’re, untouched?” he asked softly, taking your face in his hands and giving you a kiss on the cheek softly.

“Mydei, please! You don’t have to treat me like I’m made of glass.” He pulled back and looked at you, “I know that, I’ve seen you take a punch.” he said with a chuckle. You didn’t want him to treat you any differently than when the two of you sparred, but perhaps he had his reasons for being so apprehensive.

“I’ve never, laid with anyone Mydei, you will be my first.” your voice went quiet as you tried to avert his gaze, but he turned you to look at him once again. “And you’re sure about this? You wish for it to be me?” he asked as he looked at you fondly. “Absolutely.” your answer confident and sweet as you held onto him, almost scared he’d disappear right before you.

He smiled and got on his knees, taking your legs and putting them over his shoulders. Without another word he moved in, kissing your folds tenderly. You whimpered, the feeling of him so close to you like this, just lightly kissing you making your head spin. He licked up your slicked folds only once, making you buck up against him. He chuckled ftom your reaction, knowing the power he had over you in this position. But that was only because you trusted him completely, and he was honored to know that.

You looked down at him and watched as he trailed kisses from your cunt to your inner thighs, licking and sucking hard. He nipped at your skin, “I’m honored by the way. Having the privilege to be the first person to have you like this, I’ll be good to you, I promise my love.” His words were like a tether, grounding you to this mortal plane as his tongue dove back into you.

His velvety muscle prodded and pushed inside of you, becoming very familiar with the place no other tongue has had the privilege to enter. The sensations made you twitch and whine under him, his mouth sucking on your bundle of nerves as he pushed one of his thick fingers inside of you slowly and deliberately. “Mydeimos,” you huffed, holding onto his head as he worked.

The estranged prince of Castrum Kremnos moaned against you, loving the way your body reacted to him, his fingers curving and focusing on stretching you out for him. “It’s too much, gods!” you yelped and bared down on his fingers after he stuffed another one in, your climax washing over you in a wave of heat. Mydei continued, looking up at you as you threw your head back in bliss, your face soon looking down at him as he quickly sent you into another orgasm. Your overstimulated body slumped against him, your weak hands pulling his face from you as you practically begged for a kiss with small and needy babbles.

“Need you, my king.” you huffed against his wet mouth, your words sending a shockwave to his already weeping dick. He slotted himself between you, pulling away with a heavy breath as he looked down where he prodded at your entrance. “Do not hesitate to tell me if it’s too much, alright?” you nodded and put your arms around his shoulders, bracing yourself to accept him into you. He pushed his tip against you, grunting as your tightness slowly engulfed him, “Relax my love,” he said with a kiss to your cheek, “Allow me to lead, please.” You relaxed the best you could, resting your forehead against his. He grunted with a smile as he slowly pushed himself all the way in. “You take me so fucking well, look” he said and you looked down, seeing him shesthed completely inside of you. You clenched down involuntarily, causing the warrior to grip your hips roughly and push into you further. You yelped, “M-Mydei!”

He held your hips close, kissing your forehead softly. “Forgive me my love. You’re so tight around me it’s making me feral.” He stilled himself and picked you up, turning so that you now sat on him. “Let’s relax like this for a bit, yes?” he said and lay back on the warm stone, holding you on his large lap with one hand while the other was tucked under his head.

“How do you feel?” he asked with a cocky grin. “Full.” you said and reached down to touch your stomach. “I can almost feel you, here.” you said with a giggle and pressed down on your abdomen where you thought his dick rested inside you. He hissed, digging his sharp nails into your rear. “Good, I plan to mark it as mine.” he ssid and rutted against you slowly. “All mine.”

You felt him even deeper inside, your limit reached as your body pulled up a bit off of him. He held you up with one hand, allowing you to breathe and adjust yourself back onto him. “If you need to stop-“ he spoke up but you shook your head, “It’s okay, I’ll get used to it.” you huffed and slowly moved up on his shaft, arching your back as you felt his tip brush up against your spot. “Slowly, just like that.” he grunted and held you with both hands.

He guided you on his long dick, teaching you how to ride him properly, for both your pleasure and his. He looked up at you, your eyes rolling back in your head as he rolled his hips against you. “By the fucking gods,” he moaned as you engulfed him whole, rotating your hips to find new ways to feel him hit your sweet spot.

Mydei had dragged his nails against your hips, leaving scratches all along your skin, the feeling only adding to the pleasure you were feeling. “More, please my king!” you yelped out what you believed to be his proper title as he thrust into you hard, taking the air from your lungs before he stood up and carried you over to his bed.

He placed you down, not once slipping out of you, “You crave more of me but, I don’t want to hurt you.” his voice was soft as he kissed your neck, rutting against you slowly as you held onto his slippery lower back. “Please Mydei. You said it yourself, I’m stronger than I look.” You reassured him and he leaned back onto his knees. He looked down at you, pulling you further down onto his big dick. Your back arched against his cock that was so deliciously nestled inside of you as you moaned louder.

Mydei pulled out of you and thrusted back in hard, your breasts boucning wildly as he repeated the action, over and over again. “Mmh, harder!” you whined and he could only growl, lifting you up and off of the mattress, pounding into your guts roughly.

Your eyes rolled back as your toes curled, the immense pleasure making your vision blurry as he thrust into you again and again. The loud smacks of skin against skin reverberating against the walls and were occasionally accompanied by both your moans and his.

He moved to lean over you, his hands on either side of you now as sweat began to form on his brow. He leaned down, taking one of your nipples in his mouth, continuing his brutal pace and making sure you felt every ounce of pleasure imaginable. He sucked on each one eagerly, using his tongue and mouth to mark you and make a mess on your chest.

He licked a sloppy trail up from your breasts, your neck and to your mouth, “I’m going to break you my beloved, forgive me.” he warned with a huff before picking up his pace. You could barely comprehend what he was saying as the pleasure overtook your body, your hands reaching for purchase on his back, your legs wrapped tight around his waist. “Mmh yes, don’t stop my king, my god.” You praised him loudly as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, the feeling of your tight cunt around him bringing him closer and closer to his breaking point.

He continued his brutal pace however, his powerful hips and dick hitting that euphoric spot inside of you over and over, a feeling you were sure to be newly addicted to once you came undone. You were close, tears falling as you bit down on his shoulder. Your pussy baring down on him like a vice as your first vaginal orgasm crashed into you. “Mydei!” you screamed out his name, his body leaning up quickly to pull out of you in time.

He tugged om himself quickly, his seed spurting out in thick ribbons as you watched him through half lidded eyes. Your peak unlike anything you had ever felt before. The Chrysos Heir’s face above you in pure ecstasy as he came all over your spent pussy. He began saying a prayer to the gods, thanking them for creating you as he wiped the sweat from his brow.

Your pussy ached for more as you milked your pleasure as much as you could, but it was soon overtaken by a dull twinge of pain. You didnt want him knowing you were hurting, so you tried to conceal your pain, to no avail however. The shocked look on his face already let you know he knew something was wrong. “What?” you asked as you followed his eyes to where he was staring intently.

“You’re bkeeding.” he said in a defeated and sad tone. “Fuck, I knew this would happen!” he said angrily and got off of the bed. “This always fucking happens.” He walked off to a nearby table, opening the drawer and fetching some things from it. You scoffed and tried to move but both the pain and the prince stopped you. “Don’t even try it.” he said with a grumble as he quickly brought over a damp cloth to clean you up with. “Didn’t I tell you to stop me if I got too rough?!“ he exclaimed, incredibly mad at himself for damaging his precious gift from the gods above.

“But I didn’t want you to stop!” you exclaimed back, feeling equally upset that he thought he hurt you terribly. “And it’s not even alot of blood, you’re overreacting.” You said as you leaned back on the pillows allowing him to finish cleaning you without any more interruption. He leaned in to give you a kiss once he was done, “Quiet.” he said with a small smile, not wanting to hear your excuses but knowing he didn’t have a choice in that regard.

He then brought you a clean, dry cloth to wear between your legs and you soon cuddled up next to him, kissing his chest lazily as your body began to wind down for sleep. “You’re oddly prepared for that, almost as if this has happned before.” you teased and looked up at him. Mydei’s eyes were closed, his mouth in a tight frown as he sighed through his nose.

“That’s because it has.” he said as he pulled you closer. “I’m a fucking monster. Reckless and wild, no restraint whatsoever when it comes to the things I want. And it doesn’t help that I can’t die, but the people that I choose to lay with can.” You took in his worries, pulling his beautiful face to look at you as you searched his fiery gaze. “You’re no monster my king, you’re my love. And I will be your guide in reason, humanity and love. If you’ll allow me.” you said against his lips. Mydei simply nodded, “Fine, but you’ll need to recover first. Good thing you have a couple of days off from training.” He pulled you in for a kiss, his touches so incredibly gentle against you. “Your new instructor would roam all over Amphoreus just to find a way to kill me for good if I sent you out in this condition.”

The two of you soon fell asleep in each others arms, your sweet and peaceful slumber only interrupted the next morning by Mydei screaming loudly at something or someone. “I’ll have your fucking head on a pike Phainon! Keep laughing!” He exclaimed before making his way back over to you, barely audible grumbles and mumbles falling from his lips.

“The deliverer, wanted you to have this.” he said with a groan, his voice sounding so tired and done from interacting with his trickster of a friend this early in the morning. You took the box from him and opened it to observe its contents, wondering what the knight could have gifted you. Inside the box was a delicious and delectable looking order of golden honeycakes, still warm from the fire and a small bottle of rough ambrosia. But the accompanying note was what made your cheeks get hot, your body almost shooting through the ceiling in embarrassment.

“Hope you’re still breathing after last night, it would be a true shame if I lost you as a student! Stay hydrated and take as much time as you need to recover!”

Mydei took the note from you and crumpled it up, “I swear to the titan of strife himself that I’ll rip that coreflame right out of that fool’s body.” His tone sounded very serious, but he took the box from you anyway, kissing you softly on the lips and telling you that he’ll gladly feed you once the two of you washed up.

A/N: I NEED HIM TO HURT MEEEEEE!! 🗣️yesssssir 🙂‍↕️ i can just imagine the shit eating grin on Phainon’s face as he made that little care package 🤭 what a little bitch lmaoo

[crowsofdarkness]

Arranged: Chapter One

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: language, 18+ smut(ch 12& ch 17), angst, fluff, mentions of death and violence. I will update the warnings with each chapter.

Summary: Reader would do anything to make her parents happy and that included agreeing to an arranged marriage. She never expected it to be to one of New York's most feared Mob Boss: Bucky Barnes. He is anything but loving towards Reader however when her parents are mysteriously killed, Bucky makes it his mission to find out who were at fault. And in the process, ends up coming close to losing Reader.

Authors Note: This was a story of mine on an old blog and I wanted to publish it on here. Since it's quite a long fic, I've decided to slowly updated it chapter by chapter. If anyone who is interested wants to be tagged, let me know!

I sighed while looking up at the large mansion in front of me, bags placed neatly behind me. The driver gave me a curt nod and with a smile of thanks, I saw him on his way before looking back at the mansion; my new home. 

Anger radiated throughout my insides when I thought of the reason why I was in this mess in the first place. 

My parents. I loved them to death, they would do anything for me and I for them. 

I was to be married off and not to any regular man. In a week's time, I was going to be married to New York’s highest feared mob boss. Confusion filled me at first when I couldn’t quite understand why they thought this was a great idea but deep down I knew why they did it. They wanted the best for me, to be set up for the rest of my life and not have to worry about anything. Which is exactly why they set up this arrangement. 

With a soft sigh, I ascended the staircase up to the front door and softly knocked, the nerves attacking me. I bounced on the soles of my heels as I waited. 

The door opened, revealing a small, older lady who had a confused expression. “Can I help you?” 

I nodded. “Uh, hi. My name is Y/N Y/L/N, I believe Mr.-.”

Her eyes lit up while furiously nodding. “Yes, come in.”

With a smile, I went to drag my bags inside but she waved me off. “Don’t you worry about that. I’ll have someone grab that and bring it to your room.” 

She motioned for me to follow her inside and that’s when I took in my new home. A large grand staircase twisted and turned upstairs, and one hallway to my right and another towards the left. 

“I’m Barb. I’m here for whatever you need,” the older lady smiled. 

My own matched hers. “Thank you, Barb.” 

“So,” she motioned to the hallway on my left. “If you go down that hallway you’ll find the rest of the house; kitchen, living area, gym, a couple bathrooms, and the laundry room.” 

She then pointed to the hallway on my right. “Down here is an empty room that’s been used for storage and his office. He doesn’t like to be bothered unless it’s an emergency. A good rule to live by: Door open means come in, door cracked means ask, door closed means turn your back and walk away.” 

I quirked a brow. “You know from experience?” 

“I’ve been taking care of this house and him for the last 10 years. A little piece of advice?” 

When I nodded, Barb continued. “He may come off as an asshole sometimes but he really is a sweet loving man.” 

Her words warmed my heart. I had heard rumors about him, everyone has. They weren’t positive ones either. There was a reason why he was the worst feared mob boss of New York. 

“Upstairs is where the bedrooms are,” She motioned for me to follow, which I did. 

Once we reached the top of the stairs she nodded towards two closed doors. “The door on the left is the master bedroom and that one across the hall is yours.” 

“Wait, we’re not sharing a room?” I questioned. 

Barb shook her head. “He doesn’t want to pressure you. He already knows that you weren’t too fond of this arrangement so he wanted you to have your own space  until you’re ready to stay with him.” 

I could only nod, not sure what to say exactly, so Barb opened my bedroom door allowing me to step inside. 

The room wasn’t anything special, I mean it was the size of my old apartment so the extra space was nice and the bathroom was breathtaking with the large tub facing the large open fields behind the home. But what caught my attention was the large bouquet of roses on the bedside table and a gorgeous floor length black dress lay on the edge of the bed with a note. 

Dinner tonight. I’ll meet you at the bottom of the stairs at seven. 

B.B.

“Where is he anyway?” I asked Barb while shedding off my coat, letting it drop onto my bed. 

“In a meeting but should be finishing up soon. Feel free to have a look around and make yourself at home. Just make sure to check his-.” 

“Check his door before entering,” I finished Barb’s sentence with a smile. 

Barb waved goodbye, letting me be by myself to settle in. However, just as I was about to call after her for my bags, a large blonde walked into my room and placed all of my things in the doorway. 

I knew in the way that the muscles in his back and arms flexed that carrying all of my things didn’t bother him. He stood tall before a smile peaked out from underneath his beard and he slicked back his long blonde hair out of his face. He was dressed in a light blue dress shirt and dark dress pants, the shirt bringing out the blueness of his eyes. 

He definitely had to work for him. 

“That should be everything.” 

I nodded at him. “Yeah, thank you, uh-.”

“Steve Rogers. But you can call me Steve,” he extended his hands. 

Hesitantly I placed my own in his and with his size, I was shocked at how soft his grip was; almost as if he was afraid. Our hands lingered together for a few more beats before he dropped his hand away and stuffed them into the pockets of his pants. 

“Do you need anything?” Steve asked. 

“I think I’m good, thank you.” I gave him a smile. 

“Of course but if you do, let me know. I’ve been assigned to you.” 

I squinted my eyes at him. “Assigned?” 

“Your bodyguard. You’re not allowed to go anywhere without me,” Steve informed.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I cursed, suddenly feeling the anger that was dormant since before I walked into this house. 

“I don’t need a babysitter.” 

Steve hesitantly nodded. “I understand but he insists.”

Not saying another word, I pushed past Steve and sprinted down the stairs towards the office, not caring to look to see what his door was like. I may have agreed to this marriage, reluctantly, but I did not agree to have a babysitter and be followed around everywhere I went. I needed to have some rules in this arrangement. 

Thankfully the door to his office was cracked but I didn’t bother to ask if I could come in. 

“You’ve got some fucking nerve,” I seethed as I entered. 

He was in the middle of sitting on his green velvet couch and crossed his leg over his other knee. Even underneath his smirk, I knew he was upset about my barging in. I was so angry about this that I didn’t even notice how breathtaking he looked under the faint light that emanated from the lamps next to his couch. But then once the anger dissipated slightly, my gaze fell onto his left arm as he ran a hand over the stubble on his chin and an audible gasp fell through my lips when I realized that the biggest rumor about him was true. The light brushed off the metal, his fingers poking out of the sweater he was wearing.

“Sit,” he pointed to the chair across from him. 

I stood my ground while crossing my arms over my chest. “I don’t need a fucking baby sitter, Barnes.” 

“Call me Bucky.” 

I wanted to wipe the smug smirk off of his face. 

“I can take care of myself,” I stated flatly. 

“I’m sure you can but given my reputation, I think it’s best. Steve’s one of my best men, he’s worked for me since the beginning. I trust him.” 

My soon to be husband leaned back into his couch, resting the different arm across the back of it. If he noticed me staring, he made no comment about it, only nodded to the chair across from him once again. 

I ignored him, yet again. 

“Next time you make a decision about me or how I’m going to live around here, run it by me first alright?” I suggested. 

Bucky’s eyes turned dark. “You do know who you’re talking to, right?” 

I scoffed. “I don’t give a fuck who you are, James Buchanan Barnes. The only reason why I’m here is because of my parents and their wishes.” 

We were interrupted by a knock to the door, a group of men clutching briefcases close to them. 

“I thought our meeting was scheduled for four,” one of them said. 

These men screamed ‘sketchy’ and knew whatever kind of meeting they were about to have was going to be one that I shouldn’t be around for. 

Bucky nodded. “We were just finishing up here.” 

He then turned his attention towards me. “We can finish this discussion during dinner.” 

“Consider this conversation over,” I muttered while storming out of the room, letting the door slam behind me.

[alchemistc]

So about that deleted scene:

(shovel) talks - read on ao3

"So how many shovel talks should I be expecting?" Tommy asks, once the cake is mostly gone and Eddie and Christopher have wandered off. He tilts his voice low, so as not to draw the attention of Eddie's aunt, who has been eyeing him closely since he came back without any cake for Evan.

"Shovel what?" Evan's eyeing the cake.

"You could just have a bite," Tommy tempts, letting his grin go a little teasing, waving his fork a bit for emphasis, and Evan sighs. Pats his stomach, which Tommy is intimately familiar with, and very fond of, even if Evan wants to be a bit more cut.

"You're trying to deflect. Who gave you a shovel talk?"

"So far?" There's no reason to keep it going, really, except when Evan gets exasperated he huffs and puffs about it and Tommy - he doesn't not like his little attempts at dramatics.

Evan rolls his whole head in an effort to emphasize how much he's not in the mood, but his smile gives him away. It always does.

"Well, Hen and Karen just accosted me. Christopher's already promised anatomically improbable harm."

Evan, if anything, looks a little chuffed about that. Considering some of the things he's gleaned about his home life growing up, it's not all that strange.

Still, it doesn't hurt to ask. "They do know you're an adult, right?"

"Y-yeah, of course they know. It's - you know, that whole family thing you were so jealous of sometimes includes them being a little overbearing."

"Personally, I think they were just looking for some gossip."

Evan's face goes red. "Uh - that might be - that might be my fault. I'm... usually an over sharer."

"Is there something wrong with what I'm doing that you don't feel like over sharing?" It's a dirty ploy, but he's already over invested in this, in them. He wants to weasel a bit of praise out of Evan, even though he hasn't exactly been shy about it to this point at all.

Evan's face does something - a series of tiny expressions he'd have been hard pressed to catch if he weren't staring so closely - before he kicks at Tommy's foot under the table. "You're teasing me again."

Tommy doesn't hide his grin, even as he shovels his fork around the plate to get the last of the frosting off. "Can you blame me?"

Evan's blush is deep deep pink, but he still bites his tongue, tilts his head, tips his foot so that he can slide his toes around Tommy's ankle. He really, really wasn't kidding when he joked that he was trying his best to keep up.

He taps two knuckles against the table, looking like he's physically restraining himself from reaching for Tommy's hand. "It's - it's not like I don't talk about you. I just - some of it I wanna keep for myself."

Tommy fields fifty questions a day at work about the man who has him smiling to himself randomly, checking his phone and losing track of conversations because something ticks at a newly made memory of Evan Buckley. He understands the urge to keep some of those memories for himself.

"So what have you told them?"

He's picking at the thread, trying to unravel it, and he doesn't know why. He's more than satisfied with the state of things as they are now. Things are... different than he's used to, this early in. He's never been with someone so intent on getting to know him, spending time with him, so ready to share himself. It's intoxicating, really, and Tommy's never had a great handle on when to cut himself off.

Evan's expression is overly fond, and Tommy feels the thrill of it down to his toes.

"I told them about our date at the aquarium," he says, eyes sparkling a little. It had been a spur of the moment thing, Evan texting him for three days straight about hammerhead sharks, Frederickson mentioning his son-in-laws obsession with manta rays and the glass-side dinner they offered Saturday's and Sunday's. Evan's eyes drifting to the creatures in the water only half-as-often as they drifted to Tommy, and the air expanding in Tommy's lungs every time that smile landed on him.

Tommy hums.

"I told them a... very abridged version of you trying to teach me Muay Thai."

Evan, gleaming and wide eyed, pinned beneath Tommy, his hands giving up any pretense of doing anything but bracketing Tommy's hips, the gentling kiss Tommy'd placed to the birthmark over his eye before Evan whined and Tommy decided he was done playing games.

"Well, now Hen thinks I lied to her." Tommy jokes, and Evan's brow jumps quizzically. Tommy can't quite help it. Even with Gerrard here, even with eyes around them, even though they'd both decided together to keep the contact to a minimum, this being a work event and all - he reaches out and taps his finger to Evan's nose just to see his face crinkle in confusion. It'll have to do, with friends and family and colleagues all around them, but he can feel the urge to drag him in, to give Evan a taste of the frosting still on his lips, to press their bodies together and feel Evan's heart beat beneath his. The desire is there, crawling beneath his skin, and Evan watches him lean back in his chair like he knows every spare thought rattling around in Tommy's head.

"I told them you make me stupid happy," Evan says, all bright and sincere, something softening around the edges of his eyes, and the cage around his heart strains under the pressure of the muscle pressing for freedom.

Tommy darts a look around the room. Things are winding down, families with children drifting off early to enjoy having the day off, members of the 118 returning to their duties now that they've been thrown back on the dispatch register, higher ups huddled off in groups whispering to themselves about how they all would have been fired if Chief Simpson wasn't gunning for a promotion. Evan tips forward, chin dropping to the bridge of his hands with a grin.

"What do you tell the Harbor people about me?"

"Oh, absolutely nothing," Tommy says, standing, tilting a hip sideways so that he can hide the thumb the presses to the divot of Evan's chin. "If I did they'd think you'd bewitched me."

Evan's smile curls over his cheeks with the dopey expression Tommy's grown to adore.

"Let's get out of here before we get recruited for cleanup."

Evan looks like he's thinking about staying, anyway, so Tommy sweetens the deal. "I told Hen and Karen you were setting the pace. Are you gonna make a liar out of me again?"

Evan barely waits until they're out of sight before he's got two hands bracketing Tommy's hips from behind. Tommy knows he's staring at his ass - can't quite blame him. He works hard on making it look good in dress blues.

They manage to make it to the far side of Tommy's truck before Evan spins him, presses him to the passenger door before Tommy can get it open for him. "When we get home," he starts, too busy pressing his tongue to Tommy's pulse point to notice Tommy's quiet inhale at the phrasing. "I'm gonna take this uniform off of you, piece by piece, and then I'm gonna blow you so good you see stars."

"We should both wear our hats," Tommy negotiates, hoping to keep it light enough that he won't hone in on 'home'.

"The medals can stay too," Evan says, and sucks a bruise into the side of Tommy's neck when Tommy tilts his head back to laugh.

[artsekey]

I'd been seeing videos on Tiktok and Youtube about how younger Gen Z & Gen Alpha were demonstrating low computer literacy & below benchmark reading & writing skills, but-- like with many things on the internet-- I assumed most of what I read and watched was exaggerated. Hell, even if things were as bad as people were saying, it would be at least ~5 years before I started seeing the problem in higher education.

I was very wrong.

Of the many applications I've read this application season, only %6 percent demonstrated would I would consider a college-level mastery of language & grammar. The students writing these applications have been enrolled in university for at least two years, and have taken all fundamental courses. This means they've had classes dedicated to reading, writing, and literature analysis, and yet!

There are sentences I have to read over and over again to discern intent. Circular arguments that offer no actual substance. Errors in spelling and capitalization that spellcheck should've flagged.

At a glance, it's easy to trace this issue back to two things:

The state of education in the United States is abhorrent. Instructors are not paid enough, so schools-- particularly public schools-- take whatever instructors they can find.

COVID. The two year long gap in education, especially in high school, left many students struggling to keep up.

But I think there's a third culprit-- something I mentioned earlier in this post. A lack of computer literacy.

This subject has been covered extensively by multiple news outlets like the Washington Post and Raconteur, but as someone seeing it firsthand I wanted to add my voice to the rising chorus of concerned educators begging you to pay attention.

As the interface we use to engage with technology becomes more user friendly, the knowledge we need to access our files, photos, programs, & data becomes less and less important. Why do I need to know about directories if I can search my files in Windows (are you searching in Windows? Are you sure? Do you know what that bar you're typing into is part of? Where it's looking)? Maybe you don't have any files on your computer at all-- maybe they're on the cloud through OneDrive, or backed up through Google. Some of you reading this may know exactly where and how your files are stored. Many of you probably don't, and that's okay. For most people, being able to access a file in as short a time as possible is what they prioritize.

The problem is, when you as a consumer are only using a tool, you are intrinsically limited by the functions that tool is advertised to have. Worse yet, when the tool fails or is insufficient for what you need, you have no way of working outside of that tool. You'll need to consult an expert, which is usually expensive.

When you as a consumer understand a tool, your options are limitless. You can break it apart and put it back together in just the way you like, or you can identify what parts of the tool you need and search for more accessible or affordable options that focus more on your specific use-case.

The problem-- and to be clear, I do not blame Gen Z & Gen Alpha for what I'm about to outline-- is that this user-friendly interface has fostered a culture that no longer troubleshoots. If something on the computer doesn't work well, it's the computer's fault. It's UI should be more intuitive, and it it's not operating as expected, it's broken. What I'm seeing more and more of is that if something's broken, students stop there. They believe there's nothing they can do. They don't actively seek out solutions, they don't take to Google, they don't hop on Reddit to ask around; they just... stop. The gap in knowledge between where they stand and where they need to be to begin troubleshooting seems to wide and inaccessible (because the fundamental structure of files/directories is unknown to many) that they don't begin.

This isn't demonstrative of a lack of critical thinking, but without the drive to troubleshoot the number of opportunities to develop those critical thinking skills are greatly diminished. How do you communicate an issue to someone online? How do look for specific information? How do you determine whether that information is specifically helpful to you? If it isn't, what part of it is? This process fosters so many skills that I believe are at least partially linked to the ability to read and write effectively, and for so many of my students it feels like a complete non-starter.

We need basic computer classes back in schools. We need typing classes, we need digital media classes, we need classes that talk about computers outside of learning to code. Students need every opportunity to develop critical thinking skills and the ability to self-reflect & self correct, and in an age of misinformation & portable technology, it's more important now than ever.

[wystericwoes]

“Pretty boy”

Inumaki Toge x reader

Fluff

Warnings: slight cursing

"You just don't understand Maki!"

You dramatically entered your room, putting your belongings on the floor and tossing yourself on the bed as she rested her weapon against the wall, crossing her arms and raising a suspicious brow at you.

You stared up at your dismal ceiling. Letting out a long sigh.

"He's just so pretty."

She observed you curiously as you thrashed around your bed.

"Maybe if you finally talked to him rather than hoping he'll magically become a mind reader-"

You tossed a pillow at her which she easily caught.

"I don't want him to become a mind reader, I just want him to like me and tell me!"

"But without him knowing you like him first? Yeah, because expecting him to make the first move is always the best thing to do.”

she adjusted her glasses and tossed the pillow back to you which you roughly caught and placed back.

You leaned against the wall and pulled your legs up to yourself, resting your chin on your knees.

"You don't get it, if I confess and he doesn't like me, I lose him."

"You're not going to 'lose him' from a confession. It takes more than that to scare him away sadly. We're all stuck together after all."

"Exactly!" You sat upright.

Maki rolled her eyes as you rambled.

"He'll get sick of me, having to see my face in class every day, every mission, all the time."

"You're so dramatic."

You pulled your phone, zooming in on a picture you snuck of him during training. He was looking off, his long eyelashes and smooth locks gracing his face like a goddamn angel.

"Its not fair!"

You set your phone aside so you could slam your face into your pillows and let out a muffled scream.

"Why can someone be so damn pretty? It shouldn’t be allowed!”

You huffed as you recalled his smooth skin and sharp features. Soft hair and gentle smiles.

You put your hands on your face and rolled over to your side facing the wall on your bed.

“You’re obsessed with him.. get a grip.”

Maki rolled her eyes placing a sassy hand on her hip with an annoyed expression.

“You wouldn’t get it. You’ve never had boy problems.”

Her jaw ticked.

“Id hardly call it boy problems if it’s just you sitting in bed thinking about him.”

You threw a pillow again, which she threw back again.

You caught the pillow and pulled it into yourself, hugging it tightly.

“You don’t gotta say it like that!”

You sat upright and whined.

“I just wanna hold his face and kiss it!”

You roughly imitated the motions of what you were saying and made a dramatic kissy face.

“And he kept smiling at me all day, with those big stupid pretty eyes! It’s like he knows what he’s doing.”

“Yeah you don’t sound creepy at allll.”

She said sarcastically.

“It’s not creepy! It’s honest. It’s not like it’s my fault he’s got those stupid pretty lashes and that stupid silky hair and that stupid smooth skin!!”

“If you’re just gonna talk about Inumaki then I’m leaving.”

She turned around and began making paces out the door before you yelled at her to come back.

“Okay sorry!”

“Thank you.”

She made her way through your room and sat in your chair legs crossed facing the bed. You two sat in silence as she began pulling out her books and setting them on your desk to begin your nightly ritual of studying next to eachother. But she abruptly stopped her movements when you let out a long and hearty sigh, making her let a sigh of her own.

“Do you just want me to talk to him?”

“No! Thats 100 times worse.”

“Then get it over with yourself so he can at least reject you and you can move on already.”

“It’s different with him!”

“You’re absolutely delusional. We’re not in elementary school anymore, we communicate our issues like adults.”

You hated to admit that she was right. At this rate with your feelings, you would either drive yourself mad not knowing If he felt the same or if he didn’t. But Is it really better to be rejected than to never know at all? You silently weighed your options.

Maki opened a pencil case and pulled out a ballpoint pen, clicking the end as she started to write. The rhythmic sounds of it began to lull you into a daydream as you fantasized about him again.

Closing your eyes and succumbing to your own fantasies maki took it upon herself to take action. Because as much as she valued you as a friend, if she had to what about your fanatical little crush one more time- she’d lose it.

A few minutes had passed as you remained unmoving.

“Y/n?”

She whispered.

Asleep.

She chuckled to herself as she carefully grabbed your phone Off the bed typed in your passcode, opening up recent messages.

>Toge Inumaki 🩵

>Nobara Kugisaki

>Gojo-Sensei

She cringed to herself as she clicked on Inumakis name and the heart.

Y/n: Hey Inumaki, sorry to bother you. Are you free to hang out soon?

Maki set down the phone content with her text. Not expecting the phone to ding seconds later.

Inumaki: Hang out?

Y/n: Yeah, is that okay?”

Inumaki: ofc it’s okay lol I just don’t know you wanted to hang out with me

Y/n: well ofc! I really like being with you.

She watched as the three dots popped up, anticipating his response.

Inumaki: As long as you’re sure you wanna. Just us?

Maki cringed as her fingers hit the keypad and typed the response.

Y/n: Yeah. I wanna be alone with you :) If you’re okay with that.

Maki looked up from the screen to check that you were still asleep, confident you were since you were even drooling a little- she went back to work.

Inumaki: sounds good, what about the movies tonight?

Tonight?? Maki bit her nail as she looked back from the phone to you back to the phone.

Y/n: sounds great! Text me the deets and I’ll be there.

She got up and tapped your shoulder until you stirred awake.

“Hey! Wake up.”

You pushed her hand away as your eyes slowly rose. Maki shoved your phone in your face.

“I got you a date.”

[cressidagrey]

The Queen of Romantasy and the Race Car Prince - Chapter 13

Pairing: Lando Norris x Elizabeth "Lizzie" Treshton (Original Character)

Summary:

Elizabeth Treshton—bestselling romantasy author, queen of fae heartbreak, and sworn devotee of a carefully structured routine—never expected her service dog to abandon protocol and diagnose a Formula 1 driver with something. But that’s exactly what happens when Mara the wonder-dog ditches Lizzie’s side to aggressively alert to none other than Lando Norris in the middle of a coffee shop.

Warnings and Notes: 

Mention of epilepsy and service animals. I don't myself suffer from epilepsy, so I asked my IRL friend, who thankfully was nice enough to let me ask her all the questions I could come up with. The rest I asked Reddit. So everything that's wrong...that's totally my fault and not on purpose. Also Discussion of toxic media/fandom/death threats.

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

Lando knew this was going to be a mess, but at this point, he had no choice. He’d been bullied into this.

He slouched in his chair, arms crossed, waiting for the right moment to speak up. Zak Brown was reviewing sponsorship commitments, Andrea Stella was making notes on the schedule, and Sophie, McLaren’s head of PR, was rattling off media obligations. Across the table, Oscar was watching him, barely holding back a smirk.

Lando cleared his throat. “By the way, I’m bringing my girlfriend to Silverstone.”

The room went silent. Heads turned, eyebrows raised, and even Zak looked up from his paperwork. And then there was Oscar, unable to bite back his smirk any longer.

Sophie was the first to regain composure. “Girlfriend?” she repeated, clearly caught off guard.

"Yeah," Lando affirmed, trying to sound casual, but the tension in the room was palpable. "I've been seeing someone for a while. And she's coming to Silverstone."

There was a pause, an awkward beat of silence.

Zak narrowed his eyes. “And when exactly were you planning on telling us this?”

Lando shrugged. “Now?”

Sophie sighed, already dreading the impending PR nightmare. "Alright," she said, pushing up her glasses and steeling herself. "Who is this mystery girlfriend?"

“Elizabeth Treshton,” Lando said casually.

The room exploded.

Sophie looked like she was malfunctioning. “Wait—Elizabeth Treshton? As in—”

Zak leaned forward, looking genuinely shocked. “The Elizabeth Treshton?”

Andrea, who usually stayed calm, looked almost rattled. “The author?”

“Yes, the author,” Lando confirmed, rolling his eyes. “Why is everyone acting like I just said I’m dating the Queen of England?”

Sophie groaned, already rubbing her temples. “Lando, do you have any idea what you’ve just done?”

Zak was still shaking his head, somewhere between impressed and exasperated. “You’ve been secretly dating a bestselling fantasy author and didn’t think to mention it?”

Sophie looked like she had a migraine. "Lando, you’ve just added a whole new layer to your public image. And you have no idea what kind of circus the media will make out of this.”

Andrea sighed. “Lando. You realize that this means—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lando cut in, waving a hand. “Social media chaos, headlines, fans losing their minds. Trust me, I know.”

Not like he hadn’t thought about it…constantly.  

Sophie, now frantically typing away on her laptop, let out a sharp exhale. “You do understand her fanbase is massive, right? You’re dating one of the most popular fantasy authors in the world. This isn’t just a random reveal. This is—this is—”

“Huge,” Oscar supplied helpfully, still looking thoroguhly amused. 

Lando nodded, feigning nonchalance. "I’ve seen the numbers. I know she’s a big deal. But you’re acting like it’s a bad thing."

Zak raised an eyebrow. "It’s not necessarily a bad thing, but it makes things… complicated."

Andrea nodded in agreement. "Treshton’s fan base is extremely passionate. They’ll be watching your every move. And given her genre of books, well… let’s just say they have… very active imaginations.”

Lando couldn’t help an amused smirk. "You mean they’ll write fanfiction about us?"

Sophie looked more pained at the mention of fanfiction. "They’ll do so much more than that, Lando. Interviews, gossip sites, fan theories—the media will have a field day with this. Her privacy is going to be nonexistent, and so is yours."

Lando shrugged, trying to look unperturbed. "I can deal with the press. I’ve been doing it for years. And honestly, her fans can’t be any worse than some of the crazies online."

Andrea sighed again, muttering something in Italian under his breath before looking at Sophie. “How do we handle this?”

Sophie, now looking more exhausted than ever, replied, "We handle this very carefully. We’ll need a statement, some approved talking points, and a ton of media training. This has the potential to be a PR nightmare if we don’t get out ahead of it."

Lando let out a long sigh, regretting his decision to mention anything. "Great, just great."

"And we'll need to meet her," Sophie continued. "And probably her team."

Zak leaned back in his chair, a small smirk on his face. "I can’t wait to meet the woman who’s managed to tame our Lando."

Lando rolled his eyes. "I’m not tamed," he muttered, ignoring the smirks from his teammates.

"Sure, you’re not," Oscar said, clearly amused. "You are just reading romantasy books and getting her dog Ferrari bandanas."

"I wanted to talk to you about that," Zak said drily. "Lando...why?"

Lando groaned, slumping back in his chair. "Don’t start with that."

Zak smirked, all too pleased with the subject. "I’m just curious. Lando Norris,  McLaren race car driver, getting a dog a Ferrari bandana. Also, I am going to put my foot down and say that we are not having the dog in the garage in a ferrari bandana."

Lando huffed, but there was a reluctant smirk on his face. "Yeah, yeah, I get it, it’s a PR nightmare. But the dog is innocent. Lizzie has been a Ferrari fan since childhood. The dog is literally named Maranello."

Zak’s eyes widened, and he looked to the rest of the room. "You’re kidding."

Sophie just shook her head in disbelief, while Andrea let out a low whistle. "Damn, she’s really committed to being a Ferrari fan, isn’t she?"

Lando just ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. "Yes, I know. I’ve made my peace with it."

***

Lizzie had been in her fair share of nerve-wracking meetings—editorial reviews, publisher strategy calls, even a few intense negotiations about movie rights—but nothing quite prepared her for sitting in McLaren’s conference room, facing Zak Brown, Andrea Stella, and the entire PR team.

She sat up straight, hands folded in her lap as she tried not to let her nerves show. It wasn’t every day that she was the center of attention for an entire Formula One team.

Zak Brown looked directly at her. “Ms. Treshton—”

“Lizzie, please.” She interrupted, cringing internally at just how nervous she sounded.

Zak folded his hands on the table and leaned forward. “So, Lizzie. First of all—welcome. I have to say, this is a bit of a surprise.”

Yeah, it was. Not just for them. If someboy woul have told LIzzie a year ago that she was going to sit in a team meeting in the MTC and discuss her romantic relationship with Lando Norris, she would have started laughing hysterically. 

“It’s nice to meet all of you,” she settled on saying. 

Lando squeezed her hand under the table. 

Sophie, McLaren’s head of PR, sighed, already scribbling notes. “Okay, let’s get to the important stuff. You’re a bestselling author with a massive online following. Lando is one of the most popular drivers on the grid. When this relationship goes public, it’s not going to be small.”

Lizzie nodded, trying to keep her face neutral. She knew all too well the scrutiny that came with being a public figure. But hearing McLaren spell it out, in the context of Lando’s world, was still a bit jarring. “I’m aware of the attention it will bring,” she agreed. 

Zak nodded. “We need to prepare a few talking points, a plan for the media, and figure out how to approach this. Given your...passionate fanbase, we’re expecting some fallout.”

She took a deep breath, trying to sound assured. “I understand. I’ve been in the public eye for a while, so I have some idea of what to expect. But I’ll do my best to handle it.”

Zak nodded, glancing at Lizzie. “Which brings me to my next question. Are you prepared for that?”

Lizzie met his gaze evenly. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

There was a moment of silence as the team digested her answer. She could almost see their surprise.

Sophie, ever the media manager, pressed on. “Publicity can be ruthless. The media will dig into your past, speculate on your relationship, and try to find any angle they can to sensationalize the story. You’ll have cameras and microphones in your face, people demanding interviews, autograph requests. Are you ready for that?”

Lizzie considered the question for a moment. Ready? Probably not. But was she willing to face it?

“I’ve dealt with the press before. I know how to handle myself in front of cameras and microphones.” It was at least partially true.

Andrea, who had been silently watching her this whole time, finally spoke. “You have a service dog. Lando mentioned that you have epilepsy.” His tone wasn’t unkind—just careful. “Do you have any concerns about attending a race weekend?”

Lando stiffened slightly beside her, but Lizzie appreciated the directness.

“I’ve thought about it,” she admitted. “It’s a high-stimulation environment—loud, crowded, unpredictable. But I’ve managed fine at other big events before, and I wouldn’t put myself in a situation I couldn’t handle.”

She glanced down, where Mara lay calmly at her feet. “Mara will be with me at all times. She’s trained to alert me before a seizure, and I trust her completely.”

There was a long silence as the McLaren team absorbed this new information. Lizzie could see the wheels turning in their heads, weighing the pros and cons and determining how this added new variable would affect their strategy.

Sophie finally broke the silence, her pen still scratching notes across a pad of paper. “This definitely adds another element to consider.”

Zak looked thoughtful. “We’ll need to ensure that Mara has access wherever you go on race weekends. And our medics will need to be briefed on your condition in case of an emergency.”

Lizzie nodded, feeling a wave of relief that they were taking this seriously. “I can provide them with all the necessary medical information beforehand.”

Sophie, however, still looked concerned. “The press is going to latch onto your condition. We need to be prepared for that.”

"It's not a secret," Lizzie said drily.

"Lizzie has been openly talking about her epilepsy online for years," Lando said quickly.

The words hung in the air for a beat. It was true. Lizzie had been open about her epilepsy on social media—but that was to her fans, to people who loved her books and cared about her as an author. This was an entirely different beast.

Sophie frowned slightly, clearly worried. "Yes, but this will bring a whole new level of scrutiny. The media will ask invasive questions, demand to know every detail—"

"I know," Lizzie said calmly. "I'm aware of how relentless the press can be. I'm not naive."

Andrea nodded, his frown slightly softened. "We'll do everything we can to protect your privacy, but—"

"There's only so much you can control," Lizzie finished for him. "I get it. I know what to expect."

Lando on the other hand already looked murderous.

He hadn't said a word, just sitting there in brooding silence. But one look at his expression, at the muscle in his jaw clenching, told Lizzie he did not like this angle of questioning at all.

Zak noticed too. "Lando, you've been unusually quiet."

Lando was bristling now. "What? You think I'm happy that the press is going to exploit her medical condition for headlines?"

Zak raised a placating hand. "No one said that. But it's something we have to consider. We need to be prepared for the questions they'll ask."

Lando's glare could've melted steel. But Lizzie, knowing him too well, gave his hand a subtle squeeze under the table. A nonverbal plea for calm.

It worked. Lando took a deep breath, managing to tone down his scowl to a slightly less homicidal expression.

Zak, noticing Lizzie's silent intervention, gave her a look that clearly said, "Nice one."

"Okay," Zak said, clearing his throat and redirecting the conversation. "There's one more thing we need to discuss."

Lizzie braced herself, wondering what could possibly be left.

"Ferrari. Really?!"

It was the last thing Lizzie expected to hear.

She bit back a laugh, trying not to show her amusement, while Lando groaned and buried his face in his hands.

"Here we go," he muttered.

Zak was shaking his head, clearly torn between exasperation and amusement. "I can't believe one of my star drivers is dating a die-hard Ferrari fan."

Lizzie couldn't help herself anymore. A soft laugh escaped her lips.

Sophie, seeing her reaction, rolled her eyes, but a hint of a smile played at the corners of her mouth.

Andrea, the most composed of the group, raised an eyebrow at Lando. "Did you not think we were going to bring this up?"

"I promise not to wear Ferrari Merch in the McLaren Garage?" Lizzie suggested, trying to stay serious.

Lando snorted, looking both horrified and amused at the thought.

Zak, clearly torn between amusement and protectiveness over his team, ran a hand through his hair. "I'd prefer if you didn't, yeah."

"But no promises about Mara's Bandana. I am not putting a McLaren Bandana on Mara. That would be treason," Lizzie said seriously.

There was a round of disbelieving chuckles from the McLaren team. It seemed like the ice was finally broken.

Sophie bit back a laugh, looking slightly more relaxed. "I can't believe we're discussing your dog's loyalties in a serious strategy meeting."

"This is a very serious topic," Lizzie said dryly, trying to keep a straight face. "Mara is very attached to her Ferrari bandana. I don't think she'd take kindly to switching allegiances."

Lando looked at her aghast. "How have I managed to fall in love with a woman who has a Ferrari dog?"

Zak chuckled. "You just know the press is going to have a field day with this."

[junipers-archive]

hey idk how your requests for fics/oneshots work but i thought of this idea! could you do a reader who gets injured a lot(bruises, scratches, burns) and doesnt seem to notice why shes in pain and spencer is always super worried, or points them out and asks if their ok and they are just genuinely like "huh??" like no clue they were actually hurt. i love protective spence. (this is totally self indulgent i spent 3 hours reading in the sun and didnt realize i was burnt until someone noticed ngl)

"Ow!" Suprisingly its not you who screeches, but Spencer who has been watching you like a hawk the entire case.

He had just witnessed you trying to retrace the steps of the serial killer you were tracking and cut yourself on the nearby wire fencing. Walking over to you, you notice his expression, eyebrows scrunched and mouth downturned.

"How does that not hurt?! It hurts me just to look at it!"

You're about to ask what he's talking about but you notice his pointed stare and follow his gaze to the slash down your upper right forearm. Its bleeding, which you would've realized if you hadn't been busy staring at him.

He looks over to hotch and gets a nod of understanding. And you realize you've done it again.

"oh. oops." Its all you can say, all you can come up with because it doesn't hurt, and also he's standing really close to you, too close, you can smell his cologne, which is clean but sweet and perfect and-

"How-how does this even happen to you?" He snaps you out of your daze, now guiding you to the car, popping the trunk to get the med kit out. He supposedly started it 'for the safety of the team members should something happen'.

Though everyone knows the only team member who needed it was you. You're 99% sure the only reason Hotch agreed to the carry on was because he was tired of having to ask for band aids at every police station you had to cooporate with.

Once you take a seat in the trunk he begins cleaning you up, which to your embarrassment, happens almost every case. But it was hardly ever your fault, your body just rarely experienced the sensation of pain.

Even when it meant you walked around with paper cuts on your fingers all day and only noticed the blood while doing paperwork.

"Sorry..." You mumble, lips twisting into a grimace at your childishness, you can't even take care of yourself, your coworker has to keep an eye on you. "You should be focused on the case, not worried about if I'll break my arm and not feel it.."

You cringe at his slight smile, expecting to be made fun of. "I-Its fine, Y/n I like taking care of you."

Rolling your eyes at his sweetness you tilt your head, "You really like having to keep your eyes on me 24/7, making sure I haven't gone and cut off a finger or fell and broken a bone, you want to keep your eyes on me?"

"Yes, I quite like it actually." And he's grinning Spencer Reid is grinning up at you like he's won the lottery, like looking after you is some prize he's won.

"What-Whatdoyoumean-" you begin quickly but he interrupts you,

"All done!" And he's walking away, he's really just walking away like he just didn't do what he just did.

"Spence! Spencer you come back here right now!" And now you have everyone looking at you like a lunatic. But by god you will find out exactly what he meant.

[shocked-collar]

tips for writing Lawrence? I really admire your writing.

IUKJ,MSEDNGBLKJGLESJLSDERG FIRSTLY THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU I'M LITERALLY SO STRUCK??? MY WRITING???? ADMIRABLE???? I FEEL LIKE MY TEETH ARE GONNA FALL OUT AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

*fixes suit and tie* anyway

reminder that i am not gato and these are all my interpretations. the best part about fandom communities is that each mind thinks so alike yet independently, and the way you write a character won't be exactly the way another person does and that's your own personal magic touch.

Just like Ren, Lawrence has certain rules I like to stay attached to. The problem with HIM though is he's such a wild card it's hard to know when these rules apply.

Rule one is to remember Lawrence is isolated. He's used to being on his own and doing things on his own so he doesn't expect or even reach out for help. The idea of another human being kind or helpful for no reason is foreign, if not unrealistic to him.

Rule two is to remember that Lawrence has a very, very specific routine he lives by every week, rarely with interruptions. He's a homebody. He likes things his way and can't have them any other way. It's irritating and gives him a very strange sense of urgency when they're not. This is dangerous because that urgency can very quickly become aggression, as can a lot of things.

Rule three is to remember Lawrence is human. He's pretentious as fuck and speaks so poetically of death, wants to die so very badly, has done incredibly terrible things to people in the name of art, mentally separates himself from the public, believes he's better off locked up somewhere, yet reacts as any other person does to very many things. He says he wants to die, yet cries when his life is threatened or he's scared. He's certain he hates people and people hate him, yet yearns for the company of others who understand him and partakes in communities, even if just online. He says he's better off inside, yet left his house to meet a friend 2 weeks into talking online. He's a 'terrible person,' yet only takes MC home because he didn't want to leave them out there all alone. He's more human than he realizes.

Rule four is to remember he's proficient in gaslighting. Lawrence doesn't think the way other people do! Everything and anything can have meaning, and it's usually what he wants to see. He can make up anything on the fly if it protects him from guilt, fault, sorrow, anxiety, whatever it is he needs to be shielded from. He's quite the brat, so challenging him on any of his interpretations makes him irrationally bothered and he may not even speak to you anymore afterwards. He also uses this mental-protection to keep his world view in order, like in the situation in BTD2 when Ren leaves and he takes it out on you. It was REN who insisted you hangout a while, it was REN who left on a whim- but to Lawrence, you being there at all was the problem and it's all your fault.

Rule five is to keep the image of creepy in mind! Lawrence embodies the type of person you wouldn't want to be caught alone in an elevator with. He just radiates 'bad person' vibes, and his smell and quietness of his voice doesn't help.

And finally, rule six is to remember that Lawrence is a wild card. How he behaves depends on pretty much every single individual circumstance in whatever situation he's in. If he's uncomfortable he could be irritable, if the room has more than 2 other people in it he could be feeling intimidated, if he's meeting with a friend online he could be hesitant and scared, if something scary happens big or small it could launch him into a panic, anxiety, or aggressive attack, if someone's talking and their mouth sounds too wet it could make him hurt himself, if he's bored but nothing seems entertaining enough it could force him to dissociate, he could like this taste or feeling one day and absolutely hate it the next, his opinions on specific people change like the static on TV...

I like to think of Lawrence like an alligator, as they're opportunistic feeders and usually don't attack without provocation. Problem is with Law, you don't really know how you provoked him half the time. He's such an interesting, confusing character that I'm not even sure how to write it down in a way that makes sense. It all really depends on how YOU want to write him.

AGAIN, I'm not sure I helped??? this one is. a lot worse than rens imo. BUT I DID MY BEST AND AGAIN THANK U SM FOR LIKING MY WRITING HEEHEEHEHUEHENRKJDFGNDFLKJGGF