#and then so much is put on you for something you didn’t ask for

[gurugirl]

Says Who? | demonrry

Summary: Y/n goes to an underground club and meets the devil and she'll never ever forget it.

A/N: Something filthy and fun for Halloween! Not really scary, mostly just a smutty thing!

Word Count: 3.1k

Warning: smut, filth, spitting, major MAJOR size kink, creampie, unprotected public sex, Harry's a demon (or maybe he's just a dick - you choose)

⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧

Y/n could feel the base vibrating through to her marrow. The whole club was alive, a sticky hot sea of sweaty, dancing bodies, strobing lights, god-awful costumes.

She was less concerned about her white angel wings getting dirtied than she was about her drink getting something tossed into it. Some of the people making eye contact with her were… she didn’t know, but perhaps she’d keep her distance.

Though, as she looked down into her plastic cup, she realized it was all but pink melted ice. If she wanted something to worry about (other than her delicate white wings) she’d need a refill.

She figured she put a little too much effort into her costume. Her angel wings were made of real feathers and lace, lined with ribbing to make them look real, and her gauzy smock dress left little to the imagination for what she wore under. Of course, she doused herself in a healthy amount of soft shimmer and glitter and attempted to do the perfect winged liner –it wasn’t perfect, but it was pretty damn near close.

She'd gone alone to the club. A maybe not-so-smart move in retrospect, but still. She was there and she wanted to do something she'd never done before. Something outside of her comfort zone. Maybe even a little dangerous for once in her life.

The bar was packed with bodies, all lined up for a drink. Y/n waved her arm in the air, hoping to get the attention of the lone bartender. The poor guy was running his ass off and she could see sweat stains under his arms. It was rather stifling in the building.

Suddenly a very warm hand was pressed into her back, hot palm burning through the thin fabric of her dress down to her skin, “You don’t need another drink, Y/n.”

Turning to her right she saw a man with an imposing stature standing over her, his massive mitt cradling his own cup as he looked down at her, green irises practically glowing.

“Says who? I’ve only had one anyway. And how do you know my name?”

The grin that stretched over his face caught her off guard. He was handsome. She let her eyes wander from his broad shoulders up his neck and to the top of his head. He had thick dark waves with small pointed horns sticking out of the top just so. They looked real. The devil. How fitting a costume for a man who looked like that.

“Your name is printed on your cup,” he pointed. Y/n had forgotten that everyone was given a cup upon entry, their name scrawled across the smooth plastic, and told not to lose it. It was one of those underground club events and the cup was like your ticket to get in once you'd passed the initial pay-to-enter area.

She laughed and smiled, “Oh, I forgot,” she looked down at his cup again, noticing large rings adorning his thick fingers, “Harry.”

“What’s an angel doing in a place like this anyway?”

Another laugh puffed from behind her lips before she used her tongue to wet her parched mouth, “It’s a club. I don’t know. Saw an ad and it sounded fun. Why? Should I be worried?” Y/n bit her lip for effect. She wasn’t worried. But she did like this man’s vibe. He was flirty without being overt, his warm hand still sprawled along her back, face dangerously close.

“You should be worried. This is not a safe place, Y/n,” an evil smile worked its way over his features. He was teasing. Or maybe he wasn't.

She shrugged and looked up at him through her lashes before releasing her bottom lip, “But you’re here,” she looked back over her shoulder at the wild crowd behind them, “You gonna keep me safe from all the bad guys?”

“Is the angel asking the devil to watch over her tonight?” His grin grew lopsided, a dimple digging into his skin. God, he was attractive.

“Maybe. But you won’t let me get another drink so I don’t know…”

His eyes scraped over her face and down to her angel outfit, auditing, before he pushed into her back, moving her toward him closer. She watched him sit his cup down on the syrup-smeared bartop before his hand found her jaw, fingers digging into the soft part under her mandible, “Oh you’re parched, are you? Open up for me, angel.”

She felt her body swell and seethe in heat from his bold ask. But what else was she there for that night but to have a little fun with a stranger? So she parted her lips, slowly opening wider as he dipped over her frame and tilted her neck back until she felt the warm glob of saliva land on the tip of her tongue. She let out a pathetic moan when he licked over her lips, his spit moistening the dry skin like he was making sure she knew whose spit was sliding down her throat.

“Did you swallow for me?” He asked cooly as he kept her jaw in his hand.

Knocking her head up and down she kept her eyes on his and then suddenly she was being pulled away from the bar. He had an arm tucked around her waist, keeping her next to his warm frame until they’d moved into the shadowy edges of the club and he prodded her into a small space between a column and a metal air duct before he was pushing his hips and mouth against hers.

He tasted like autumn outdoors, hay, spit, burning leaves… Running her fingers into his hair she felt his hand on her hip, bunching at the sheer fabric until he was reaching into the thin wispy lace of the top of her white panties, palm gliding down her belly button until the pads of his fingers were pressed in a place she would normally never let a stranger touch. Especially not in public.

But it was Halloween, and this was what she’d been looking for. Something a little dangerous, a little crazy. This was the kind of place where one could get away with such iniquities.

Soon, the only thirst that remained was to feel more of him. To feel his hands, his fingers… He smoothed his tongue against hers as his middle finger rubbed tightly over her exposed clit after he'd torn the delicate fabric of her underwear. She was throbbing against him. Wetting his digits slowly until it was slippery and he could easily slide one and then two inside of her cunt.

“Love when I make angels wet. You’re just a good girl but this is exactly what you were looking for, wasn't it?”

She moaned and yanked his hair, hoping he’d put his lips back against hers. She loved his mouth, loved how he kissed her all dirty and raw.

“Yes…” She blinked up at him and then gasped when he shoved a third fat finger inside of her hole. It made her wobble forward into him, her cheek pressed into his solid chest. He fucked her just like that, on his fingers as he kept whispering into her ear, “Gonna change your life tonight angel. Show you what it feels like to really get off.”

Her mouth was wide open as he slid his fingers so deep she was certain nothing had ever gone in like that before. Not even Donny’s hard prick felt like that (what a disappointment he had been).

“Can’t even stand up straight and that’s just my fingers in there little girl. What are you gonna do when it’s my cock splitting you in half, hm?”

She groaned as he continued pumping his fingers through her gummy insides and she gripped onto his biceps so she didn't simply wither to the floor.

Y/n didn’t want anyone to see what was happening but it felt so good and she was so close. Already. The heel of his palm was bumping, sliding into her clit with every thrust of his wrist and she swore he was fucking into her to the beat of the bassy electronic music.

Her head began to spin and her ears were ringing, muffling the noise of the crowd and the music when she felt the delicious release of her orgasm.

Harry pushed her back into the wall quickly when he felt her shaking and with his free hand he held her face, smushing her cheeks with his thumb at one side and his pointer finger on the other, “Look at me when you come. Your orgasm belongs to me. Fuck that’s so pretty…”

She was stunned. It felt so good. Her body was writhing and being pushed and pulled at the hulking man’s direction. He guided her through it, plunging his fingers inside of her and dragging them over her slick spongy spot at the front of her wall. It was like he’d found a hidden switch within her insides and turned it on for her.

“You gonna keep being a good girl for me? Let me claim you and fuck an orgasm out of you on my cock this time? Want that, angel?”

Y/n’s rationale had gone out the window the moment he spit into her mouth and licked over her lips at the bar. So she nodded as he pulled his fingers from her cunt and brought all three, slimy, coated in her arousal, up to her lips, “Open up that thirsty little mouth. Suck.”

She wrapped her lips around his fingers and he pushed them past her comfortable gag spot as he made haste with his other hand, undoing his pants before pulling out his dick.

Harry removed his hand from her mouth and pulled at her neck, "Take a look. Think it'll feel nice and snug inside that tiny little angel pussy?"

Y/n shifted her eyes down to the hot engorged dick the man had brushing against her, his tip wide and ruddy against her labia. She inhaled, looking up at the man and then back down at the size of him, "It's… I don't know… It's so…" She bucked into him, feeling unsteady, her thighs still shaking.

"At least twice as big as what you've played with before. I know. But you get used to it. Come to love it. The way it plugs in so deep, carves into your insides, and makes a nice wet home… No one ever forgets it."

She clutched his forearm with a shaky hand and used her other to reach down and touch him. He was hot. So much warmer than she expected. Peering around his broad shoulders she could see people grinding and doing ungodly things on the dancefloor already. There were no rules in that club, except to not lose the cup you were handed when you paid to enter, and she'd already lost that at the bar somewhere.

When she felt him grip tight the meat of her thigh and perch it over his hip he slid his cockhead to her dripping seam and began to dip in.

"Oohh…" she warbled out a moan and then looked up at his handsome face, "Mmm…"

"Open that pretty mouth, show me your tongue."

She did what he said, parting her lips as her pussy spread open little by little. The feel of him slowly pushing into her was sticky, gooey, sharp. But the warm spit that dripped onto her tongue was salacious, made her pussy throb and flutter around his girth.

"There we go. Get that pussy spread apart for me. Let me have you, angel."

She was already letting him have her. She was his… whatever he wanted, however he wanted it. Right in front of everyone… sloppy, wet, deranged, disgusting…

"Mm ahhh…" she panted, her brows pushed together as he rutted in and in, filling up every bit of empty space she had available. Split open, stuffed full, slippery hot debauchery.

Harry threw his head back for a moment, basking in the tight pussy wrapped around him. Sopping. It was his chance to feel a bit of heaven.

Reaching down for her other thigh, he pushed her up and lifted her, making her wrap her legs around his waist so he could work into her deeper, really give her a taste of what the devil could do.

She yelped and gurgled wetly, eyes bulging as he buried himself in, "Fuck…"

"Yeah? Didn't know angels liked to say such words." He swiveled his hips, a harsh plunge in again, and the squelch of her pussy against his length meant she was as wet as she could possibly be. "Oh you're soaked, angel. No wonder you're so thirsty. All your juices are down here," He rocked up into her and she cried out, "So you can take me properly."

While no one much cared about the angel with her wings pressed into the wall, her legs wrapped around the devil's waist as he stuffed her pussy with his big cock, it was obvious what was going on in that dark little corner every time the strobe flashed over the pair copulating. If the look on her pretty face didn't give it away, all fucked out, wet lips parted, eyes rolling back into her head… it was the way the devil was rocking his hips sharply against her, making her legs shake with every thrust.

He knew he was hollowing her out, poking in beyond what was comfortable for her… he knew she'd never forget the way he felt inside of her. It'd stick with her forever and she'd never be able to come again without thinking about the devil.

She'd masturbate thinking about that night at the club and she'd release with the image of him inside of her. And any poor man who stuck his rinky dinky human dick into her pussy would never get her off –she'd be thinking of Harry, the demon with the biggest cock she'd ever had. That would be the only way she'd ever be able to come. A curse, but also a blessing because now she'd always be able to get off to the memory of him no matter who was fucking her. Everyone else would pale in comparison… but that's what he loved so much about fucking sweet human girls. They never forgot his big cock and he owned them in a way. At least he owned their orgasms.

Slushy, gloopy, splatting… his long dick dragged and kissed against her sweetest spot and she felt the tingle and the ache of it as she bounced with every drive of his hips.

"Give me that come, angel. Right on my cock."

She inhaled sharply as he laved his tongue over her lips, slicking his saliva over her mouth and spitting onto her tongue again, "Mine. It's all mine, isn't it? Cunt will never feel it like this again but she'll remember who owns her won't she?"

Y/n was simply done for… her body was putty, molten liquid, dripping, bowing to his whim. His cock would be forever imprinted within her womb as she felt him slide through her channel, thick and throbbing - it was as if she could feel his bulbous cockhead pushing into her tummy, bulging at the front. Microscopic tears around her gaping, wet, stretched muscle she'd need to tend to later. All worth it to be fucked like that.

Her eyes were bleary as she looked at him when she began to come. He was right and she knew it. Her body would never forget it. She was ruined for him already as her vocal cords hitched up an octave and she made his favorite noise. Every dip of his broad crown through her gushing walls smeared his leaking slit against her cervix.

Harry watched the angel fall apart around his cock, face crumpled, body reveling in her release, toes curled in her shoes, but when she moaned his name and gazed into his eyes with droopy lids he couldn't hold back the way she was milking around him. He slammed into her, one brutal thrust, cock burrowing in as he splattered and pumped into her. His warm spend, a mucusy mural for her tight little wet walls. Like his signature left behind so anyone else who entered would know he'd been there. That everything inside of her cunt belonged to him because he'd already claimed it…

She'd think about all that later. That she'd had unprotected sex with a stranger at a club. That he'd filled her with his sperm and spit into her mouth. She'd get tested and watch for her period and then get tested again. And when she turned out clean and not pregnant part of her would be disappointed that she didn't have some excuse to search for the man to let him know what he'd done so she could do it all over again with him. Get her brains fucked out and her little pussy stretched in a way that shouldn't have been as good as it was.

But she wouldn't regret that part. Her only rue that night would be that she hadn't gotten his last name or maybe a number. It was probably better to not know who he was, though. Because if she did she'd obsess. She'd fiend. She'd pine. She'd stalk. She'd make a fool of herself to just have another taste. And a guy like him would probably already be onto the next.

It was better to not know who he was because he wasn't really nice. When he was finished with her, when his come was fucked into her and he made her watch how he shoved it all back in with his huge cock, gripped her neck, and made her look at the way it dripped from her puffy, used pussy and how he took his dick and pressed it back into her stinging hole and told her to not to clean herself up –he left. He dropped her down to her feet, tucked his big cock back into his pants, patted her hot little cheek, and walked off without even turning back to look or check on her.

She watched him disappear into the crowd with her torn panties at her hips and his come dripping down the inside of her legs, chest heaving, heart thrashing in her chest… Her back and her legs and her pussy ached but she'd have him again if he just came back. So, it was better to not know.

It was better to not know because maybe he actually was the devil.

⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧

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[euthymiya]

female reader ; non curse au ; established relationship ; reader lays on sukuna ; written bc i’m moving and can’t help but imagine sharing an apartment with him (i want someone to help me carry heavy boxes with flexing muscles as i take in the view)

“I can’t find the box with my bras,” you whine. It’s miserable, the look on your face. It fills Sukuna with unbridled joy as he cracks a thickly amused grin.

“Good,” he grunts in approval, “you don’t need them, anyway.”

“I do,” you glare. It takes all of three seconds before the reality dawns on you—and then he’s snickering as your glare becomes harsher. “You put it somewhere, didn’t you?” You accuse him through narrowed eyes.

“Me? I’d never.”

“I should’ve known moving in with you was a mistake,” you snap, “I’m moving back.”

“Too late. We paid for the moving truck.”

“Well, technically you paid for the moving truck,” you correct him, letting your lips stretch into a smug grin.

He scowls, rolling his eyes before slumping onto the bed with a groan. You follow him, curling up beside him as your head finds his chest and his arm tucks under your body to cocoon you closer. You inhale, he exhales, and even if your paces don’t match, your uneven breaths form a pretty solid rhythm.

“I’m gonna need my bras,” you insist.

“Fine,” he grumbles, “I’ll get the box from my trunk later. I’m tired, woman.”

“We still have to unpack—”

“There’s plenty of time for that,” he clicks his teeth in distaste. “I need rest—I did all the heavy lifting, since someone refused.”

“It’s what the man is for,” you hum cheekily.

“So then why didn’t you do it?” He raises a brow. You shoot him an unimpressed look at his smart comment, a tight lipped, sarcastic smile splaying on your lips as you let out a humorless chuckle.

“You’re right,” you nod seriously, “it’s my job to treat the lady right. Sorry you had to sprain your back with my boxes, princess,” you pat his cheek.

“The fuck are you on about?” The look of pure disgust on his face makes you break out into giggles, leaning up to kiss his jaw as he grumbles something incoherently under his breath. You hear bits and fragments of it. Something along the lines of such a handful and give me migraines that you don’t fully catch, but they manage to amuse you all the same.

“You’re pretty enough to play the part,” you hum, shifting your body to roll on top of his. You hover over him, and Sukuna lets out a dramatic grunt. You pretend—and it’s only out of the goodness of your heart—that his cheeks aren’t slightly rosy from the comment you made.

“You’re heavy,” he says (to which you gasp, offended) as he squeezes your ass (you gasp again and smack his chest this time) and shoots you a grin with no shame (you stare for just a strict second—and a strict second only—at his dimples).

“Don’t lie,” you huff, “that’s an insult to that gym regimen of yours.”

“You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?” He asks smugly, mouth curving in that ridiculously annoying, yet stupidly handsome way as he adds, “bet you’re eye-fuckin’ me through that mirror as I life weights all the time.”

“I’m too busy worrying about those shaky arms giving out and leaving you to die under the weight.”

“Very funny,” he scowls, “you could pay our rent with stand up comedy alone.”

“Being my princess isn’t enough? Now you need to be my sugar-baby, too?”

“Enough,” he hisses, one hand coming to your face to keep you away as you break into a fit of laughs and try to give him a cheeky peck to the lips. “Stay away from me.”

“No, we’re roomies now.”

“We are not roommates,” he says, irritated by the idea. “That sounds like we’re fuckin’ strangers.”

“You’re right,” you nod thoughtfully, “I guess we can call it two mutually benefiting individuals that have decided to split costs to save money on a living space in an unforgivingly harsh economy—”

“You talk too much,” he mutters. And mainly just to shut you up (but maybe, perhaps, possibly for one of the mutual benefits, too), his hand grabs the back of your neck to pull you into a rough kiss. You cut yourself off by letting out a muffled gasp as his tongue presses against yours—messy, heated, and surprisingly gentle.

“Well, that was rather passionate. You know what they say about roommates,” you wiggle your brows as you pull away. He purses his lips in an agitated expression as he glares at your stubborn word choice.

“Stop callin’ me your fuckin’ roommate,” he demands.

You laugh. It’s soft—a light, airy noise. The sound bounces off the walls that are his and yours and echoes along the space between your pressed-up bodies. Along the boxes littered across the floor and the suitcases lined up in the corner. Along the clothes you insisted you needed that he hasn’t seen you wear in months as they lay in a heap on his closet floor. Along the kitchen table where you’ll have breakfast, and the living room where you’ll watch movies, and the bathroom sink where you’ll fight over space to brush your teeth.

He’ll never tell you directly (because he has dignity, of course) but he could really get used to living somewhere that houses a sound like that. A sound that makes him realize the difference between the space he lives in, and the place he calls home.

Home, he thinks to himself for a moment. Home is where your laugh echoes, ringing obnoxiously in his ear. Sukuna doesn’t think any living space will ever be the same again without it.

“Since we live together now—” you murmur, breaking him from his thoughts as you lean in to peck his lips. He hums in a rare, soft, content little sound that you don’t get to hear too often. “—I can finally decorate your plain ass apartment.”

His brows scrunch in horror as he registers your words. “Absolutely not—”

“Muah,” you cut him off with another peck to his mouth, “I’m thinking earthy tones, what about you?”

——————————

I carried like 20 something heavy ass boxes to and from my car nonstop today and every time I felt my poor arms get sore, I thought: wouldn’t it be so nice to have someone like sukuna and his four arms to do all the work while I sit and look gorgeous? He doesn’t have four arms in this fic, but that’s honestly his problem not mine. Just carry the damn boxes I’m just a girl

[sinfulspencer]

Twisted fantasy

Prompt: Reader asked her boyfriend Spencer to dress up as Ghostface and he obliged.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Rating: mature (18+, minors DNI)

Warnings: light dom/sub dynamic, dom!Spencer, sub!Reader, dirty talking, praise kink, degradation kink, spanking, hair pulling, breath play, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie

Words: 4.1k

A.N.: Thank you to @vampireids for beta-reading this!

“I can’t believe I agreed to do this.”

I could hear the faint sound of Spencer pacing around the room on the other side of the door, along with grunts as he tried to put on the tightest pair of black trousers I had managed to find. 

When October started, I knew it was time for me to make my demand. Even though I had no reason to complain about the many different ways Spencer and I celebrated Halloween, I had one more fantasy to fulfil. Just a little idea that had been stuffed inside my brain for too many years. 

I knew Spencer wouldn’t have denied me anything, so I wasn’t surprised to find a Ghostface mask in my Amazon cart a few days after our conversation.

“You did it because you love me!”

Spencer huffed and I saw the lights flickering inside his bedroom. “I don’t have to prove my love to you by wearing a Ghostface mask.”

“No, but it would certainly be a nice thing to do!” 

The door opened with such force it smacked against the cold wall. I took a step back and I almost collapsed to my knees when Spencer walked out. 

I couldn’t even see his eyes, but I knew he was hiding that damned cocky smirk he had on his face every fucking time he understood what was going on in my brain. It wasn’t difficult to imagine, because I knew exactly how my face looked at that moment. 

Spencer looked absolutely stunning in total black. 

The shirt was tight on his chest and his sleeves were rolled up at his elbow, making him appear even more delicious to my eyes. His waist was perfectly hugged by those tight black trousers he didn’t want to wear, but did it for me, and his thighs made me want to drop down on the floor and nibble all over him. 

And then, of course, the Ghostface mask. 

Sure, it wasn’t the real Ghostface with the black cape and whatever, but it didn’t matter.

“So, do you have a boyfriend?” Spencer asked.

His eyes were covered, I could barely see the outline underneath the mask, and that turned me on more than I could describe. I could barely think straight. And his voice… shivers ran down my spine. 

“Damn,” was all I could say. 

Spencer chuckled in amusement, but the sound of his laugh was toned down by the mask covering his mouth. I had no idea why the outfit turned me on more than I could explain to myself, but it did - and I was glad we had no parties to attend that night, because I wouldn’t have let him leave his house.

There was something inexplicably exciting in not seeing his face, but allowing him to touch me as he pleased. 

I had every right to drag him back into his bedroom and use him for my own pleasure, finally making my fantasy come true - and also put an end to my miserable desire for my boyfriend. 

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Spencer asked again.

I whined, staring at him. “Why, do you want to ask me out on a date?”

Though I could not see Spencer’s face, I knew that he was smirking. He was enjoying this probably as much as I was, which made me happy. 

“Maybe. Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No.”

I took another step back to admire every inch of my boyfriend and sighed. I covered my mouth with a hand when Spencer leaned on the doorstep of our bathroom.

“You never told me your name.”

He didn’t move from where he was standing, but I was squirming either way. Spencer hadn’t laid a finger on me yet, but I was ready to jump on him at any minute. 

“Why do you wanna know my name?”

“I wanna know who I’m looking at.”

Spencer opened his arms so that I could look at every detail, but before I could say anything to him he grabbed me by the waist. He pulled me closer to his body and I gasped, pressing both my hands on his chest.

I was sure that my eyes were in the shape of hearts. I had never felt this turned on before in my life, not even during our first time together and the first time we slept in the same bed - which led us to fuck on basically every surface of his bedroom.  

“You look like you’ve seen a Ghost.”

I brought both my hands on his chest, grasping his shirt. I was positive my eyes were shining, staring at my boyfriend like a starved woman in front of a delicious buffet. After all, Spencer looked like a snack and I was craving something sweet. 

“You’re so fucking hot.”

Spencer leaned closer to me and I struggled to look at him, or at the mask. His hands moved from my waist up to my neck, forcing me to keep my eyes on him the whole time. I hated that I couldn’t really see him, but that turned me on either way. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand your obsession with this mask but if it turns you on this much” Spencer dug his fingers into my waist, “I will wear it every night.”

I slid my hands up his chest, tugging on the black tight shirt. “I could eat you.”

“That’s my job, darling. Let me eat you.”

And who was I to deny such a thing?

Spencer helped me to lay down on the bed with my hips on the edge of it, trembling with anticipation. It didn’t take long for him to spread my legs with his large hands, admiring the already wet spot on my panties. 

“Already wet?”

Despite his face being hidden by the mask, I could feel the smug grin just forming on those damned plump lips. 

“Shut up.”

Spencer ran his hands all over my thighs, dragging my panties down my legs. He threw them somewhere and quickly brought his thumb over my clit, massaging it so slowly that it almost made me cry. Spencer knew how much I hated teasing, but he loved it so much - probably more than sex itself. 

“My sweet girl. Shouldn’t you be scared of me?”

A part of me wished I could be able to see his face, but the irrational part of me thought the mask was incredibly hot. I didn’t know what part of my brain was attracted to it, especially if it was worn by my FBI boyfriend, but still - I was thankful that Spencer brought my fantasy to life.

“Fuck, just finger me. Please?”

Spencer hummed, teasing my entrance with his finger. “Should I?”

“I’ll be good for you. Please?”

I whined under his ministrations, following the rhythm of his hand as soon as his index finger slipped deep inside of me. I knew Spencer could never deny me anything and him wearing that fucking mask was the proof of it. 

The squelching sound of my wetness against Spencer’s palm made me shiver as I gripped the bedsheets underneath me. His finger brushed against my sweet point and I found myself gasping for hair when Spencer’s other hand pressed down on my throat. 

I was caged between his slim body and the soft mattress underneath me, spiralling in warm pleasure that washed over me. My toes curled and I felt myself drifting off to that state that I craved each time I was underneath my boyfriend’s body. 

Spencer was staring down at me, I could feel it even though I couldn’t see it. He squeezed my throat again with his fingers, digging them into my skin - I was going to have bruises the next morning, but did I truly care? 

“Always such a good girl for me. Look at you.”

Spencer’s condescending tone made me clench around his finger and he quickly added another one, stretching me out gently as my wetness coated him. The more he squeezed my throat, the more I could feel my soul disappearing from my body and the pleasure taking control of every inch of me. 

My knuckles were white and my whole body was tensing underneath Spencer’s, his fingers working in and out of me at a quick pace that rendered me breathless. His hand was still pressing down on my throat. 

It was difficult to explain the state of peace I felt myself drifting off to, but I felt like I was floating above air. The white clouds caressing my skin ever so gently while my body was carried far away. The lack of oxygen made it easy for Spencer to gain control of me, my body and every sensation that he brought me with his fingers inside of me and his thumb on my clit. 

“You wanna come for me, my special girl?”

His voice was loud and clear in my ears, but I could not find the strength or the will to answer him. I just stared at him with my eyes wide open, gripping his forearm to release some of the tension that I felt building within my body. 

“The last time you were this turned on, was when you saw me shooting with my gun. Should I pull that out?”

My whole body was trembling as his fingers quickened their pace inside of me, making a mess all over the bedsheets - I could feel my own wetness and Spencer’s saliva dripped down between my thighs. 

“Spencer, p-please.”

Spencer didn’t waste any time in cooing at me. I knew that if I ripped that mask away at that specific moment I would’ve found a sly smirk on his lips - and God, did that fucking turn me on. 

“You can’t speak, my special girl? Too stupid to think right? To even speak right?”

When he pulled his fingers out of my wet cunt and removed his hand from my throat, I gasped for air and stared at the ceiling with a shocked look on my face. I was not expecting him to remove all the sources of pleasure at once, but somehow it turned me on even more. 

I knew what was about to come. 

Spencer’s leather belt came undone quickly as he adjusted the mask on his face.

“I need to be inside you. Now.”

Spencer didn’t need to announce what he was about to do to me because I knew it; I had a feeling that everything was turning him on too much, I could feel it in his hands and the way his grip was so firm on my thighs. It felt like Spencer was trying to anchor me to a moment, to a feeling, to the promise of giving me an amount of pleasure that would keep me satisfied the whole night.

“Please,” was all I could whisper.

Spencer grabbed my forearm, forcing me to sit up for a moment. My head was spinning so hard I barely registered my shirt being removed as Spencer left me completely naked in front of him. He was still all dressed up, despite his shirt being slightly crumpled. 

I didn’t know why, but knowing that he was still dressed while I was naked made me even more desperate for the man in front of me. And Spencer knew it as he pushed me down on the bed again. 

He grabbed my ankles and dragged me closer to the edge again, while he pushed his breeches down enough to free his waist. 

“So desperate for me, aren’t you?”

I whined, not really in the mood for more teasing. “You have no idea.”

“I’ll take good care of you now, my special girl.”

I closed my eyes and reclined my head back, waiting for Spencer to just end my misery and give me exactly what I was aching for. My thighs were trembling, my lips were quivering and my heart was beating so hard against my ribcage - if we were silent, I would’ve heard it echo through the walls of our bedroom. 

And then, a second later, I felt Spencer’s cock teasing my entrance. I gasped at the delicious feeling, immediately looking at my boyfriend - that fucking mask was preventing me from seeing his pretty face, but didn’t it look fucking perfect on him. 

“Just fuck me, Spence. Please!”

I supposed Spencer didn’t like the tone I used as I spoke to him, because he leaned on top of me and grabbed a handful of my hair. He pulled on it so hard that it brought tears to my eyes, but I wouldn’t have changed it for anything in the world - it felt deliciously good. 

Spencer must’ve noticed the tears. 

“Oh, are you crying?” he asked, his voice dangerously sweet, “I’ll give you something to cry about.”

Spencer tightened his grip on my hair and tugged on it again, forcing me to get up from the bed. He was controlling me through the painful grip he had on my hair and I swore I had never felt his fingers keeping me close to him so harshly before. I didn’t know if the mask had switched something inside of him, but I did not complain once. 

The fine line between pain and pleasure was subtle, and Spencer was allowing me to ride it. 

Spencer used his free hand to bend me over the bed without laying on it, while the other was still tangled in my hair. I had no idea what Spencer had in mind, but I was ready to follow him through everything - hoping that he would just fuck me at someone point. 

“You’re dripping. Are you enjoying what I’m doing to you, my special girl?”

His voice was so fucking hot.

I nodded my head, hissing when he pulled my hair again. “Yes. Always.”

Spencer moved his free hand down between my thighs, slowly bending over with his chest pressed to my back, and found my entrance again. He slowly sunk his ring and middle finger inside of me, not finding any resistance, and started fucking me again. 

I wanted his cock inside of me, not his fingers, but I remained quiet. 

Struggling to breathe and with my thighs trembling, I moaned his name and leaned my head on the soft pillow on top of the bed. His fingers disappeared inside of me as my wetness coated his palm, dripping onto the bed sheets.

“My special girl,” he pressed open-mouthed kisses all over my naked back, “Am I making you feel good? You like my fingers fucking your aching cunt?”

I saw stars when I heard him speak in such a dirty way and my body reacted as I clenched around his fingers. Spencer must’ve felt it because he chuckled, the sound of his amused laugh muffled by the mask - I was tempted to just take it off and throw it away.

“Please…”

My brain was dizzy, I could not form a coherent thought. All I could think about was just Spencer fucking me with his fingers, with his cock, his hands all over me, bruises and bites decorating my skin. 

I was desperate.

Spencer couldn’t care any less, though. He enjoyed the loudness of my moans, the way my body trembled each time his fingers bottomed out, the squelching sound of his palm against my weeping cunt. 

Spencer curled his fingers, pressing his digits on that spongy spot inside of me, and I found myself almost crying from the amount of pleasure my body was forced to experience. My legs were on the verge of giving out and my hands gripped the bed sheets so hard my knuckles became white. 

Still fucking me with his fingers, Spencer took off the mask and threw it somewhere - I saw it flying on the ground and I almost laughed. Spencer bit the skin between my shoulder blades - one of my favourite places he’d bite. The sharp pain radiated through my body immediately and I whined his name, pushing my hips back to reach his.

“Spence… please.”

His cock pressed against my thigh, but his fingers were relentless. All I could think about was the stabbing pleasure that his cock would’ve brought to me - how wet I was for the man behind me, how desperate I was to feel his balls slap against my buttocks each time he thrusted into me. I was out of my fucking mind with neediness and Spencer was basking in it. 

“Do you want my cock, my sweet girl?”

I nodded my head, my tongue felt heavy in my mouth. The pleasure was building slowly but steadily in the pits of my stomach, my trembling thighs an obvious sign of that. 

“You can have it, then.”

Spencer removed his fingers all at once and I groaned, disappointed but not surprised. His cock rested heavy on my inner thigh before he dragged it through my wet folds, coating it. I knew that he was admiring the sight and how much I was squirming because of him - Spencer was a sucker for my devotion and my obsession for him. 

“Give it to me. Please?” I begged

Spencer cooed, biting the back of my neck again. “Want it all inside of you? Want me to paint your walls with my cum?”

I nodded with my eyes closed, feeling tears of frustration pricking at each side. “Yes. Yes, yes.”

Spencer tapped the tip of his cock against my clit, then teased my entrance with it. He slipped in for a single second and I thought my whole world exploded. The pleasure flashed behind my eyes, but disappeared as soon as Spencer pulled away. 

My hands were twisting the sheets. “Fuck!”

Behind me, Spencer laughed at my pathetic complaint. It wasn’t a fun laugh, it wasn’t a cute laugh. No, it was a cruel laugh that reverberated through every inch of my body and turned me on more than it should have. Spencer sounded exactly like Ghostface, if it even made sense. 

“So desperate,” Spencer whispered in my ear, biting my earlobe, “Such a whore for my cock.”

I protested again with another whine and Spencer pushed his cock inside of me again, but removed it as soon as I wiggled against him. Each time I would move, he’d pull out - and that made my heart tremble in my chest. He was teasing me so cruelly, without a care - but I didn’t blame him. 

Spencer put on a mask for me. I deserved to be tortured a little.

“Oh, stop crying,” Spencer grabbed my hair again, pulling it hard, “I fuck you every chance I get, you’re not going to die if I don’t fuck you now.”

Actually, he was wrong - I was a hundred percent positive that I was going to die if Spencer wasn’t going to fuck me rough, hard and fast in less than five minutes. I wanted to answer him, to beg him again but the tone he used did not admit any talk back. 

I stayed quiet, simply wiggling my hips in order that he’d just give in to his own desire. 

“Good, be quiet for me and I’ll give you my cock.”

Spencer used his free hand to caress my waist, dragging his fingers over the curves of my buttocks. His other hand was still gripping my hair, but slowly loosened his grip until he brought both hands on my hips. 

And when he finally pushed his cock inside of me, meeting no resistance, he started to rock his hips at a painfully slow pace. I didn’t know if Spencer wanted me to die at that moment, but I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of having me cry because of him - despite the hot tears streaming down my face. 

“That’s my sweet girl. Your cunt feels so fucking good.”

I clung to the bed sheets with both hands, trying to meet his hips but Spencer stopped me. He didn’t say anything; instead, he enjoyed the way my body sucked him in so fucking good that his soft whimpers echoed through the walls of our room. I knew that Spencer loved to watch how my body reacted to his touch, to his painfully slow thrusts and I let him - there was nothing better than knowing he was turned on because of my body.

“Please, please, please.”

No other word came out of my mouth. 

Spencer started thrusting into me slightly faster, but not fast enough to make me come. It was a slow torture that I knew he was basking in - and what made it even more frustrating for me was the light slaps that he gave to my buttocks.

“Feels so good, sweet girl.”

Spencer muttered to me, caressing my buttocks before slapping both with his palms. Over and over, I could feel my skin become hotter and I wiggled away each time he struck me - it hurt, but I enjoyed it far more than I should have. 

When I felt myself losing the train of thoughts running through my mind, Spencer reminded me that he could read me like a book and he picked up the pace of his thrusts. I barely had the time to fix the position I was in because Spencer started to pound into me harder and harder. His balls were slapping against my buttocks and his hands were digging into my skin, leaving bruises that I would admire for the next few days. 

“Take me so fucking well. So proud of you, sweet girl.”

My knees were sore as they scraped against the bed sheets, but I wasn’t going to complain. I kept my mouth shut and leaned my forehead on the pillow, stretching my back with my arms gripping the headboard of our bed.

Spencer moaned at the sight and his thrusts became even harsher. I knew he was desperately close, I could feel it in the tension of his chest pressed to my back and the quick gasps that fell from his lips. 

“Wanna cum?” he taunted me. 

I nodded, my lips twitching into a smirk. “Yes, please. Make me come, please.”

Spencer seemed determined to make me cum first, his left hand still dinging into the soft skin of my waist. His right hand moved between my thighs and his thumb pressed over my clit, eliciting a long unexpected moan. 

“Show me how good I’m making you feel, sweet girl,” Spencer whispered in my ear, his voice low, “Cum on my cock like the whore that I know you are.”

My toes were curling, the pleasure becoming intolerable. Every inch of my body trembled because of his ministrations; I was a puppet in his skilled fingers and Spencer knew it, as he finally pushed me off the edge of my desire. 

With his left hand Spencer pushed my head into the mattress, cutting off the air supply as he buried his cock deep inside of me - I felt him breaching my cervix and it hurt, but Gods. 

I did not want Spencer to stop. 

I needed that pleasure to keep coming in waves through me as it exploded over and over again. I had no idea if I was breathing, I had no idea if I had died and went straight to Hell. 

Spencer groaned in my ear, a sound that I wish I could’ve recorded, and I felt his warmth fill me up deeply. More tears fell from my eyes as I struggled to lift my head up, exhausted and trembling like a leaf in the middle of a storm. I did not expect to have an orgasm so earth-shattering.  And I did not expect Spencer to take off the mask like that, with a disrupting anger that did not belong to him. It was endearing and incredibly hot. 

I collapsed onto the bed with Spencer’s body on top of mine, his lips peppering my back with light kisses. 

“Sorry about the mask.”

I hissed when he pulled out of me, the sudden loss stinging. “Fuck the mask.”

Spencer chuckled at my response. “But I thought you loved it.”

“Oh, I do,” I replied, rolling on my back, “But I love seeing your face way more.”

He got off the bed and went straight to the bathroom, bringing me a warm washcloth so that he could clean himself off me and then himself. I was too weak to move and my thighs were still trembling - I wouldn’t have been able to walk to the bathroom without waddling. 

“Right, so I should keep the mask on in the beginning and then take it off.”

I nodded my head, sitting up on the bed. “That’s a good compromise. Next Halloween I’ll bring one of your fantasies to life. Deal?”

Spencer scratched his chin with his fingers, humming. “I’m not really sure if I want to fuck a character from a movie or a book, though.”

“Okay, then I’ll dress up like myself.”

He chuckled, laying back down beside me. “Oh, that I love.”

[classyrbf]

COME HOME! — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...you’re afraid one day he won’t come home, leaving you in a constant state of worry and fear of what could happen especially with his family in on the line

INFO...toji fushiguro x ex assassin fem!reader, fluff with some angst, domestic relationship, megumi is readers bio kid, toji an assassin, mentions of blood, sweet ending, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

i'm sorry for being gone for so long and not writing anything or even sticking to my kinktober plan, quite literally fell into a black hole of unmotivation and writing smut was not helping at all lmao

The night was brutal, cold air striking your skin and the winds were sharp. Yet, you sat by the cracked window, your skin felt like it was on fire. Police sirens flooded the silence and the small dim lamp did its best to light up the room. With your knees tucked to your chest, you sat and watched the cars drive by, one of the streetlights flickering every now and again. Little Megumi slept soundly in his room, tucked warmly in his bed with his favorite stuffed dinosaur. You had been up for hours, waiting for Toji to come back home from his job.

You lived with worry that one day he wouldn’t show up, come back home to you and his son. What he did was dangerous, being an assassin and what not. He always brags about how he’s the best, so fast and strong, silent as a mouse that most of them don’t even get the chance. But, what if there’s someone out there who is strong enough to put up a fight? What if he gets caught? Seriously injured? That’s what makes you worry. You knew what you were getting yourself into from the moment you met him because you also used to be an assassin, but as soon as you found out you were pregnant, that lifestyle was cut short. You’d never do anything to put your son in danger.

Many talks between you Toji about changing what he does, doing something better, safer, always led to arguments. It’s like killing was the only thing he knew how to do. It’s sad to say. But you couldn’t help but love him, and worry for him, care for him. You only wanted Megumi to be safe. The job was a dangerous one. Creating enemies along the way, a target painted on your head. You just needed him to come home. Nervously biting at your nails, your eyes scanned the streets and tops of the grungy apartment buildings. You always wanted to move out of this damn city, but Toji said it’d be too obvious if you two moved somewhere nice, somewhere you couldn’t blend in. As much as you hate to admit it, he was right. You just didn’t want Megumi growing up here, turning out like you or his father. You wanted better for your son.

The rattling of the doorknob makes your head spin, jumping to your feet before even thinking. You were on full alert, hoping whoever walks in was your husband and your husband only. Your eyes narrowed, the bulky frame of Toji stumbling through the doorway, his skin pale and shining with sweat. He slammed the door behind him, groaning in pain as he dragged his feet across the floor and to the nearest chair. He didn’t look too well.

Immediately, you walked out of the living room and into the kitchen, assessing him with a worried look in your eye. “Toji, baby?” You nearly fall over when you cup his face, his nose bloody and lip busted. You don’t even notice he’s holding his side. “What the fuck happened?” You’re cupping his face, eyes scanning his finger when you see the copious amounts of blood on his hands. Lifting his shirt, you see the huge gash on his side. “Fucking hell.”

“Missed you too, sweets,” he struggles to even speak, letting out a pained sigh. “Where’s the kid?” He asks, looking at you rummaging through the cabinets for the first aid kit.

“He’s fine, sleeping. Why?” You glance over your shoulder, snatching the first aid off of the shelf. You kneel in front of him, taking the bottle of alcohol and pouring it straight onto the wound.

“Fuck!” He screams, slamming his hand on the table. “Son of a bitch!” He hisses, clenching his eyes shut. “Could’ve warned me, you know?” He breathed heavily, his chest heaving up and down.

“Would’ve been worse if I did. Answer my questions,” you demand, wiping the blood around his wound while applying pressure.

“Fucker that got me knew about you and the kid. Though…shit—thought someone else might’ve came after you two. I tried getting here as fast as I could,” he sighs. His eyes flutter shut, clenching his fists so hard the whites of his knuckles show. “Don’t worry, I killed him. Obviously.”

“Yeah, he still fucked you up pretty good though.” You shake your head, grabbing the bandage and placing it over the gash. “I told you Toji, we need to leave, find somewhere safer, better. You need to quiet this shit, okay? We got a fucking kid to look out for—”

“Mommy? Daddy?” The soft sound of Megumi’s voice made you spin. He rubs his tired eyes, clinging onto his stuffed dinosaur. “Is daddy okay? I heard him yell.”

“I’m okay, Megs.” Toji flashes a smile. “Mommy’s just helping me with something and then I’ll come tuck you back in, alright? Go back to bed.” He points back to his room.

“Daddy’s okay, baby,” you say softly. Megs just nods and tiredly shuffles back into his room. A deep sigh escapes your lips as you wrap the gauze tightly around his torso before cutting it with the scissors and tucking it under. You toss the scissors to the floor, standing back to your feet to rid your hands of his blood. This is what you were afraid of. This is what you didn’t want. You were a mother now and you knew just how cruel this world was.

You take a rag and wet it under the water before gently lifting his chin, and wiping the blood from his nose. You’ve done this too many times before, it was practically like muscle memory. Stitching yourself up, wiping the blood that seeped into your skin and now you’re doing the same for him. His hands find your waist, squeezing gently while you stand between his legs and Toji forgets about the pain for a moment. His glossy eyes look up at you and he realizes what he has. A wife, a son, a family who cares about him, loves him. You’re always so gently yet so affirmative and he’s reminded why he fell in love with you. You make up every part of him that was missing.

“I’m sorry.” His voice and raspy and delicate. “I know I scared you when I walked through the door like this.” He gently grabs your wrist, pulling your hand from his face. “Look at me, baby.” And when your eyes meet his, he can tell just how worried you are, how much you’re hiding just to seem strong. “I’m sorry.”

Tears well up in your eyes and they’re falling before you could blink them away. “I’m so scared you won’t walk through the door one day, Toji. I wait by the window, watching and listening. Looking out for our baby boy. I don’t want that day to come when you’re not here because of this stupid fucking job,” you cry, looking away from him as you sob into your hands.

His heart breaks at your cries, pulling you down into his chest despite the pain he’s in because he couldn’t care less about that right now. He soothingly rubs your back, placing a kiss on your head. “We’ll leave tomorrow. Everything. Move somewhere else. Start a new life. I fucking promise you. I should’ve listened to you before and I’m so sorry.” His voice shakes with each word. “You don’t know how scared I was to walk in here thinking something might’ve happened to you and Megs. Just thinking about that…fuck…I can’t imagine.” He shakes his head. You cling onto him, holding him tightly. “I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you too,” you sniffle. Lifting your head, you gently caress his cheek with the pad of your thumb, searching his eyes and you see is sadness and sincerity. “Tomorrow. Promise?”

“I promise, baby. Me, you, and the kid. We’ll all get outta here. Go somewhere nice. Maybe a beach, watch him play in the sand?” Toji chuckles. You nod, laughing. “There’s that smile,” he says.

“Daddy?” The little patters of Megumi’s feet make their way into the kitchen. “Are you still gonna tuck me in?” He pouts.

Toji looks at you and then at his son. You hop off of his lap and he stands up as if nothing is wrong, but still walking with a slight limp and his hand holding his side. “Come here, kid.” He scoops him up with arm like he weighed nothing. “How about you sleep with me and mommy tonight, huh?” He reaches to ruffle Megumi’s hair. You walk over to the both of them, your chest feeling warm, a smile adorning your face. Megumi leans his head on Toji’s shoulder, quickly shutting his eyes. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

[its-avalon-08]

Could you do a Lando one where he and reader have been together since the beginning of his F1 career and during the current season, where he has a chance to compete for the championship against Verstappen and since he won his first race, reader slowly realizes how distant and focused on winning the drivers' championship he is becoming from her and his fans along with the media also realize this, and after he has a chance to win the race and reduce the advantage against Max, she finally confronts him and they have an argument to the point where he tells her that she is being a distraction and that they should break up and she agrees and packs her things and leaves for Carlos' house for a while and Carlos and Rebecca comfort her and let her stay as long as necessary. And weeks after that, everyone realizes how sad Lando is and sees that Reader is no longer present with him at the races and he sees the stupidity he did due to the pressure he is under and tries in every way to talk to Reader and asking her for a second chance, but to no avail. And when Lando loses the championship, he admits to everyone what an idiot he was for letting the pressure of competing for the title end the most important thing in his life, which is his relationship, and mentions that Reader has always been through his ups and downs and that he only asks that if Reader is watching that interview, she forgive him. And days later, when he returns to Monaco, he hears someone knocking on the door and he opens it and sees Reader with tears in her eyes saying that she saw his interview and that she forgives him

i love u anon I LOVE U

the sound of the woman that loves you (ln4)

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, tears, comfort, neglect

The paddock was buzzing with energy, cameras flashing as media and fans swarmed the track, but Lando Norris walked through it all with a focused, unbreakable gaze. Y/N, his girlfriend of six years, was standing on the sidelines, arms crossed tightly. She knew this season was different – the stakes were higher, and Lando had a real shot at the championship, but something else felt different, too.

She gave him a small wave as he approached, expecting the usual grin, maybe even a quick hug. Instead, he nodded at her, barely slowing his stride.

“Good luck out there, Lando,” she called, keeping her voice light.

He looked back briefly. “Thanks. I need to get to the garage.” And with that, he disappeared into the McLaren motorhome, leaving Y/N in the midst of a crowd of curious onlookers.

She glanced at her phone, scrolling through Twitter to distract herself.

@F1Fanatic2024: “Anyone else feel like Lando's been acting… different lately? He’s so much more serious these days. Miss the old Norris 😕 #ItalianGP” @NorrisNation: “Gotta be the championship pressure. But I miss seeing him and Y/N together, they were always so cute! Now he barely even looks her way… #Monza”

Y/N sighed. The fans weren’t the only ones who noticed. She felt it every day. Since his first win in Silverstone, Lando seemed to have put on a new armor, impenetrable and distant. At first, she chalked it up to the pressure of being a real championship contender, but recently, it felt like there was something more.

Later, In the McLaren Motorhome

“Lando,” she called, poking her head into his team room after qualifying.

He barely looked up from his notes. “Yeah?”

Y/N hesitated. “I thought… maybe we could grab dinner tonight? You know, relax a bit before the race tomorrow?”

He didn’t even pause, scribbling something down. “Sorry, can’t. I have to go over data with the engineers.”

“Oh… okay. Maybe after the race?”

“If it goes well, sure.” He finally looked up, flashing a tight smile. “If I’m going to have any chance at catching up to Max, I can’t waste time right now.”

Her heart sank. She managed a weak smile back. “Of course. I understand.”

But it was hard to ignore the shift. They’d been through so much together, from his first race to his first podium. She remembered the nights they’d stayed up in hotel rooms talking about their dreams and fears. Now, it felt like she was just another face in the paddock.

Race Day

Lando finished second, close on Max’s heels, reducing the gap in the standings. His fans erupted on social media.

@F1Racer2024: “YESSSS! That’s how you do it, Lando! One step closer to the championship!! #TeamLando” @NorrisY/N_Fanpage: “Does anyone else miss the times when Lando would celebrate with Y/N after every race? She was his biggest cheerleader… what happened? 🥺”

As Lando stepped off the podium, Y/N waited in the sidelines, her heart racing. She expected him to come over like he used to, the way he would spot her instantly and pull her into a hug, podium champagne still dripping off him. But instead, he went straight to the team, surrounded by cameras and fans. She stood there, watching, a bit more alone than she’d felt before.

Eventually, he made his way over to her, but even then, it felt rushed.

“Good race,” she said, smiling up at him, hoping to capture a moment of the old Lando.

He nodded, barely slowing down. “Yeah, thanks. Still gotta catch Max, though. Can’t celebrate too much yet.”

She reached out, touching his arm gently. “Lando, you did amazing today. Can we just… have a moment? Just you and me?”

He shifted uncomfortably, glancing around. “I can’t right now, Y/N. There’s so much at stake.”

Her face fell, but she nodded. “Right. Of course.”

That Night – Hotel Room

Y/N lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling the distance between them like a canyon. She reached for her phone, scrolling through the usual F1 fan accounts and updates, and her heart sank a little further as she read the latest tweets.

@RacingGirl2024: “Remember when Lando used to bring Y/N to all the team celebrations? Now it’s all business with him. #MissThem” @LandoF1Updates: “Lando’s chasing that championship with everything he’s got, but is it just me, or has he left everything else behind? #FocusedButDistant”

She knew it wasn’t just her imagination – everyone saw it. She missed the days when Lando had room in his life for them both, but lately, it seemed like racing was the only thing on his mind.

The door creaked open as Lando finally came in. He looked exhausted, eyes tired and a bit dull, but still carrying the spark of his competitive spirit.

“You’re still awake?” he murmured, slipping off his jacket.

“Yeah,” she whispered, biting her lip. She wanted to tell him how she felt, but seeing his drained face, she hesitated. “I just… I miss you, Lando.”

He stopped, giving her an unreadable look. “I’m right here, Y/N.”

“Not really,” she said softly, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s like… you’ve already left.”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just… I need to focus right now, okay? This could be my only shot at the championship.”

“I get that, Lando. I’ve always supported you – you know that. But… I didn’t think it would mean losing you.”

He looked down, unable to meet her gaze. “I haven’t gone anywhere, Y/N. Just… give me some time, yeah? This is important to me.”

She nodded, swallowing hard. “I know. I’ll be here. I just hope you remember who was there from the start.”

Social Media – Post-Race Reactions

@FormulaHeartbreaks: “Watching Y/N trying to celebrate with Lando and him brushing her off… that hurt to watch 😔 #StayStrongY/N” @WDCdreams: “Lando’s transformation this season is insane – but I’m scared he’s pushing everyone he loves away. Hope he doesn’t regret it #FocusCanCost”

As she lay next to him in the dark, Y/N wondered how much further he was willing to go for this dream – and whether, by the end of it, there would still be room in his life for them.

---

two weeks later – Lando’s Apartment

It had been two weeks of tense silences and brief conversations, filled with polite distance but nothing of the warmth that once defined them. Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. Tonight, they were supposed to have dinner together after weeks of being apart, but Lando was, as always, late. She glanced at the clock, her stomach churning with frustration.

When the door finally opened, Lando walked in, not even bothering to look up as he set his keys down and shrugged off his jacket.

“You’re late,” she said quietly, trying to keep her voice steady.

He sighed, barely glancing at her. “Yeah, the engineers needed me to stay a bit longer. We’re testing some new upgrades for next week’s race.”

“Of course,” she muttered, shaking her head.

He finally looked up, frowning. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that everything – the team, the races, the data – comes before us now,” she replied, her voice beginning to shake. “You’ve been ignoring me, Lando. Fuck, I barely recognize you anymore.”

He rolled his eyes. “Y/N, we’ve talked about this. I’m so close to the championship. I thought you, of all people, would understand that.”

“I do understand that,” she snapped. “I’ve always been there for you. But you’re acting like I don’t exist. You barely even look at me anymore. Do you realize how painful that is?”

“Painful?” He scoffed. “It’s not like I’m doing anything to you. I’m just focused on something that matters to me right now.”

“What about me?” she cried, her voice cracking. “What about us?”

He took a deep breath, his jaw clenching as he looked away. “Y/N, I don’t have time for this right now.”

Her eyes stung as she fought to hold back tears. “You don’t have time for me,” she whispered. “You have time for everything else – every meeting, every media obligation – but when it comes to me, there’s nothing.”

“Y/N,” he started, his voice low and almost warning, “if you’re so unhappy, maybe you should go. I can’t keep worrying about how you’re feeling when I have this much on the line.”

She blinked, shocked, the tears finally spilling over. “You’re saying I’m a burden? After everything, I’m just… just in the way?”

He threw his hands up, exasperated. “You’re becoming a distraction, Y/N! I can’t focus when you’re constantly upset with me. I need to be 100% in this championship, and right now, I can’t be that with you here, making me feel guilty for every second I spend away from you!”

Y/N’s lip trembled as she tried to hold herself together. “So, what then? We just… end it? Just like that?”

He didn’t answer, just looked away, his face hard and distant. It was the coldest expression she had ever seen on him.

“Fine,” she whispered, nodding to herself. She walked into the bedroom, her hands shaking as she grabbed her suitcase and started packing. Every shirt, every little trinket that she had brought into his space felt like it was mocking her. She heard him pacing outside the room but couldn’t bring herself to stop.

When she emerged, suitcase in hand, he was standing there, arms crossed, face unreadable. For a moment, they just stared at each other, the silence thicker than it had ever been.

“So that’s it then?” she asked, her voice breaking. “Six years, and you can just let it all go for this one shot?”

He didn’t answer, and that hurt more than anything he could have said.

She laughed bitterly, wiping her tears. “I hope this championship is everything you dreamed of, Lando. Because it’s all you’re going to have left.” She pushed past him, tears blurring her vision as she walked out of the apartment, her heart shattering with every step.

Later – Carlos and Rebecca’s House

Y/N knocked, and before she could even drop her hand, the door flew open. Carlos’s concerned face immediately softened when he saw her red-rimmed eyes and trembling figure.

“Oh, Y/N…” he whispered, pulling her into a tight hug. She broke down completely, her sobs muffled against his shoulder. Rebecca joined them in the doorway, gently rubbing Y/N’s back as she let all the heartbreak pour out.

“He… he told me I was a distraction,” she choked out. “After everything, he just… let me go.”

Carlos tightened his hold on her, his jaw clenched. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. He’s an idiot if he can’t see what he’s lost.”

Rebecca guided her inside, settling her on the couch with a soft blanket around her shoulders. “You can stay here as long as you need,” she said gently. “We’re here for you, okay?”

Y/N nodded, wiping her tears, but the pain still sat heavy in her chest. She thought back to all the moments she and Lando had shared – all the late nights, the laughter, the promises they’d made. And now, it all felt like nothing more than empty words.

---

Y/N sat curled up on Carlos and Rebecca’s couch, her fingers gripping a warm mug of tea that Rebecca had handed her, though she hadn’t taken a sip. Carlos and Rebecca sat across from her, exchanging worried glances. Rebecca reached over, placing a gentle hand on Y/N’s shoulder.

“Do you… do you want to talk about it?” Rebecca asked softly, her voice laced with concern. “It might help.”

Y/N swallowed hard, her eyes focusing on the tea in her hands. She’d replayed every painful moment a hundred times in her head, but somehow, saying it out loud made it feel even more real.

Taking a shaky breath, she began. “Lando wasn’t always like this. He used to be so… present. Back when he first started in F1, we were everything to each other. He’d come back from a race, even if he’d had a bad day, and he’d look at me like I was the only good thing he had. He’d call me his ‘anchor,’ you know? Like I was the one keeping him grounded.” Her voice cracked, and she blinked back tears.

Carlos looked away, jaw clenched, clearly struggling to hear how much his friend had hurt her.

“He used to make time for me, no matter what,” Y/N continued, her voice trembling as she remembered. “I remember one night, it was after a particularly bad race. He came home exhausted, and I tried to cheer him up. I was rambling on about some silly story, and he just stopped me, took my face in his hands, and said, ‘I don’t deserve you, you know that?’ I laughed it off, but he was so serious. That was Lando… he always made me feel like I was everything to him.” She let out a small, broken laugh. “Now it’s like… he doesn’t even see me anymore.”

Rebecca’s eyes were full of sympathy, and she leaned forward, gently rubbing Y/N’s back. “He still loves you, Y/N. He’s just… lost in all of this championship pressure. It’s consuming him.”

Y/N shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. “That’s what I told myself at first. That it was just temporary. I wanted to be understanding, to give him the space he needed. But it kept getting worse. He’d come home, and it was like he was bringing all the weight of his career with him. He’d barely speak to me, and if he did, it was only about the races, the standings… nothing else.”

Carlos shifted forward, his expression filled with anger on her behalf. “But you were always there for him, through everything. He shouldn’t have taken you for granted.”

“That’s what hurts the most,” Y/N whispered, her voice barely audible. “I tried to support him in every way I could, to be his safe place. But… it’s like he doesn’t need me anymore. Like I’m just in the way of his goal.” She clenched her fists, the pain intensifying as the words came tumbling out. “He told me I was a distraction, Carlos. Like I’m something he needs to get rid of to succeed.”

Carlos’s face hardened, his fists clenching. “That’s not right, Y/N. You were never a distraction. You were his partner.”

Y/N’s gaze dropped to her lap, her voice thick with tears. “I was so proud of him, so in love with him… I still am. But he’s changed. The Lando I fell in love with would never have pushed me away like this. I don’t even know if he’s in there anymore.”

Rebecca pulled Y/N into a tight hug, rubbing her back soothingly as Y/N finally broke down completely, letting the tears fall. “I just… I don’t know how to stop loving him,” she sobbed. “Even after everything, even after he said those horrible things… it still feels like a part of me is missing without him.”

Rebecca tightened her hold, her own eyes shining with tears. “You gave so much of yourself to him, Y/N. It’s going to hurt. But we’re here for you. You’re not alone.”

Y/N’s shoulders shook as she clung to Rebecca, her sobs echoing in the quiet room. Carlos leaned forward, reaching over to gently hold her hand. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he murmured. “You deserve so much more than this.”

“I just wish…” she whispered, her voice barely audible, “I wish he could see how much he’s losing. But he’s so wrapped up in his dream, it’s like I don’t matter at all anymore.”

The three of them sat in silence, Rebecca and Carlos offering her the quiet support she desperately needed. And for the first time in a long time, Y/N let herself truly grieve the man she had once loved with everything in her – the man who had loved her just as fiercely but seemed to have slipped away, lost in the world he was so determined to conquer.

---

The first time people noticed, it was subtle – a strange emptiness around Lando that hadn’t been there before. There were no more quick glances to the paddock where Y/N used to stand, no playful smiles or inside jokes shared across the garage. And, most importantly, no sign of Y/N.

The media chalked it up to championship pressure, but his fans weren’t convinced. They flooded his social media with questions.

Twitter

@LandoLover91: Did anyone else notice Y/N hasn’t been at the last few races?

@RacingQueen: Where’s Y/N? She used to be his good luck charm. Lando seems so off without her…

@TeamNorris: You can see it on his face. Something’s missing.

It wasn’t just the fans. In the paddock, everyone saw it too. Even Max and Charles exchanged a look as they watched Lando pace through the garage, his usually confident demeanor tinged with something… off.

Max nudged Charles. “Have you noticed he hasn’t been himself lately?”

Charles nodded, concern flashing in his eyes. “It’s like he’s a ghost of who he used to be. And… Y/N isn’t here anymore.”

Max sighed, crossing his arms. “He pushed her away. I don’t think he even realized what he was doing until it was too late.”

In the McLaren Garage

Carlos was leaning against a wall, arms crossed, watching Lando carefully. He’d been giving Lando the cold shoulder ever since Y/N had shown up at his house in tears. Lando approached Carlos, a hint of desperation in his eyes.

“Carlos,” Lando started, his voice low. “I need to talk to you.”

Carlos’s gaze hardened, and he crossed his arms, his posture rigid. “Oh? Suddenly, you want to talk? Funny, because Y/N wanted to talk too. She begged you to hear her, and you threw her aside. Now, you’re here?”

Lando flinched, guilt swirling in his stomach. “I… I messed up, Carlos. I know that. I let the pressure get to me, and I said things I didn’t mean.”

Carlos’s face remained unyielding. “Didn’t mean? You called her a distraction. After everything she did to support you, to be there for you, you reduced her to an inconvenience.” His voice was laced with bitterness.

Lando’s shoulders slumped. “I know, okay? I know I ruined everything. I’ve been trying to talk to her, but she won’t answer my calls, won’t respond to my messages. I just… I need her back, Carlos. She’s the one good thing in my life, and I pushed her away.”

Carlos shook his head. “Do you even hear yourself? You only realize her worth now that she’s gone. What did you expect, that she’d wait around forever while you treated her like she didn’t matter?”

Lando’s voice cracked, desperation spilling over. “I don’t know what to do. I’ll do anything to make it right. Please, Carlos, just… tell her that I’m sorry.”

Carlos scoffed. “You think I’m going to deliver your apologies for you? If she wanted to talk to you, she would have. And after the way you treated her, I don’t blame her one bit for staying away.” Carlos’s eyes softened briefly, but it only made his tone more cutting. “You lost someone who loved you with everything she had, and you took it all for granted. Now, you have to live with that.”

Later, in the Drivers’ Lounge

Lando sat alone, staring at his phone, the endless stream of unanswered messages mocking him. The door swung open, and Max and Charles stepped in, glancing at him with a mix of pity and frustration.

Max crossed his arms, looking down at him. “You’re a mess, Lando.”

Lando’s head snapped up, eyes bloodshot. “What do you want me to say? I know I screwed up.”

Charles sat beside him, his voice gentle but firm. “Why didn’t you see it sooner? Y/N was always there for you. We all saw it – the way she looked at you, the way she believed in you. And you threw it all away for what? A title?”

“It’s not just about the title!” Lando said, his voice breaking. “I was under so much pressure… everyone was expecting me to be perfect, to finally beat Max. I thought… I thought if I just focused, if I could just give everything to racing, I’d be enough.”

Max shook his head, his expression a rare mix of sympathy and disappointment. “And now? Are you enough?”

Lando’s throat tightened, and he looked down, unable to answer. The truth hung heavy in the silence, a truth he could no longer deny.

“I don’t know what to do,” he whispered. “I keep replaying that night, every horrible word I said to her… and I can’t take any of it back.”

Charles placed a hand on his shoulder. “Sometimes, Lando… there’s no going back. Maybe you just have to live with the choices you made.”

Back in the Garage

As the race weekend continued, the fans picked up on it too. Lando’s pit crew noticed his silence, the empty look in his eyes when he glanced toward the area where Y/N would usually stand, cheering him on. His lap times were erratic, and his usual spark was gone.

Carlos passed by, catching Lando looking lost and out of place in his own space. He leaned over, his voice low. “You’re hurting now, aren’t you? Feeling what she felt when you pushed her away. But you have to understand – you did this to yourself.”

Lando’s voice wavered, a raw edge of desperation seeping through. “Carlos, please. I can’t lose her. I don’t know how to do any of this without her.”

Carlos shook his head, his face impassive. “You made that choice when you told her she was just a distraction. She loved you, Lando. Truly loved you. But you made her feel like she wasn’t worth your time.”

Lando’s face fell, the words striking him harder than any crash he’d ever endured. “I thought I could fix it…”

“Some things can’t be fixed,” Carlos said, voice cold. “Some things… you have to live with. You’re going to realize, probably too late, that your title won’t fill the space she left. You traded something priceless for something you can only hold for a year.” With that, Carlos walked away, leaving Lando alone to the silence of his regrets.

---

Lando sat on the edge of his bed in his darkened hotel room, staring at his phone screen. His fingers hovered over the screen as he typed out another message to Y/N, his heart sinking lower with every word. He’d sent so many texts over the past few weeks, each one unanswered, each one leaving him more desperate than before.

Text Messages to mylove<3

Lando: I know I don’t deserve it, but please, Y/N, just talk to me. Please.

Lando: I’m so sorry. I was wrong, about everything. You were never a distraction. You were the only thing keeping me grounded.

Lando: I can’t believe I said those things to you. Please, I need to make it right.

Lando: Y/N, please come back. I miss you so much. I miss us.

The messages stayed marked as “delivered” but never “read.” Each notification that appeared on his screen felt like a punch to his gut. He opened their old messages, scrolling through the conversations where she used to send him good luck texts, little jokes, and photos that made him laugh on the toughest days. Now, the screen was empty, and it tore at him in ways he hadn’t expected.

He tried one last time, his fingers trembling.

Lando: Please, Y/N. Just one word. Just let me know you’re okay.

He waited, staring at the screen, hoping against hope that this time, she’d respond. But there was nothing. Just the cold silence of his phone screen mocking him, reminding him of the gaping hole he’d created in his life.

Finally, he threw the phone onto the bed, burying his face in his hands. A shuddering breath escaped him as he fought back the tears that had been welling up since she’d left. The weight of his regret was crushing, pressing down on his chest until he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

He broke down, the sobs wracking his body as he thought about all the times he’d taken her presence for granted, all the ways she’d been his rock, his source of strength. And now, in his pursuit of a title, he’d thrown it all away.

“Why did I do this?” he whispered to the empty room, his voice barely audible through the tears. “Why was I so stupid?”

He thought back to the last time he’d seen her, the pain in her eyes, the betrayal. She had been there through every single moment of his career, from the early struggles to his first win. And in the blink of an eye, he’d reduced her to something he could discard.

The sobs only grew louder, his shoulders shaking as the guilt crushed him. He could barely breathe, the weight of it all suffocating him. He’d lost the one person who truly loved him, who’d been there through everything – and now, he’d do anything to turn back time, to tell her how much she meant to him, to take back every cruel word.

But it was too late. All he had now was the silence, the cold realization of what he’d lost forever.

With trembling hands, he picked up his phone once more, typing out another desperate message, his vision blurred from the tears.

Text Message to mylove<3

Lando: I’ll wait as long as it takes. I’ll wait forever if I have to. I just… I just want you back.

But even as he hit send, he knew it wouldn’t be enough. And that knowledge only made the pain cut deeper, leaving him sobbing in the dark, broken and alone.

----

The championship had come down to the final race, and it slipped through Lando’s fingers. Second place. It was supposed to be the peak of his career, the culmination of years of hard work and sacrifice. But as he stood on the podium, looking out over the cheering crowd, all he felt was emptiness.

He’d traded everything for a shot at the title. And now, even with the world’s eyes on him, he felt alone.

The post-race interview was supposed to be about the championship battle. The questions started there, but it quickly turned into something else, something Lando couldn’t hold back any longer.

He took a deep breath, voice wavering as he spoke into the microphone. “I know today was supposed to be a celebration, and it should be. But I need to be honest… I made a huge mistake this season, one that I’ll regret for the rest of my life.”

The room went silent, the reporters leaning forward, sensing the weight of his words.

“I… I let the pressure of this championship get to me. I thought that if I could just focus, if I could give everything to racing, I’d find happiness. But in that process, I lost the most important thing in my life.” His voice broke, his hand tightening around the mic as he struggled to continue. “I pushed away the person who’s been there for me since the beginning. Through all the ups and downs, the wins and losses… she was always there, believing in me even when I didn’t believe in myself.”

Lando’s gaze drifted to the floor, shame filling his expression. “And I told her she was a distraction. I let her believe she wasn’t enough because I was too blinded by this… this dream. I’m an idiot for thinking a title could ever replace someone like her. I know I messed up. I know I hurt you more than anyone ever should, and if I could take it all back, I would. I’d give up every race, every trophy, every… every chance at this championship if it meant having you back. You were never a distraction. You were the only thing that kept me grounded, that kept me… sane.”

His eyes lifted to the camera, his voice soft but clear. “If… if she’s watching this, if she can hear me… I just want her to know that I’m sorry. More than anything, I want her to forgive me. I know I don’t deserve it, but I love her. And I would give up everything, every podium, every title… just to have her back. I didn’t realize what I had until I lost it. And now… now I’d do anything, anything to make it up to you. I know I don’t deserve it, but if you can ever find it in your heart to forgive me… I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you never feel like that again.”

The room was quiet, the air thick with the weight of his confession. Lando’s face was streaked with the tears he’d tried to keep at bay, his vulnerability laid bare for the world to see.

Days Later, Monaco

Back in Monaco, Lando felt like a shell of himself. He moved through his days on autopilot, haunted by the memories of what he’d lost. The house felt empty without her presence, her laughter, her comforting words. He spent hours lying awake at night, staring at the ceiling, replaying that interview in his head, hoping that maybe, somehow, she’d heard his words.

Then, one quiet evening, there was a knock at the door. It was tentative, hesitant, as if the person on the other side was unsure.

Lando’s heart raced as he walked to the door, a flicker of hope sparking in his chest. He opened it slowly, and there she was – Y/N, standing on his doorstep, tears in her eyes. Her face was etched with a mixture of pain and longing, the same emotions he’d been carrying since the day she left.

There she stood, Y/N, with tear-streaked cheeks and an expression he couldn’t quite decipher. Her lips trembled as she looked up at him, the softness in her eyes bringing fresh pain and, maybe, a glimmer of hope.

“Y/N…” His voice was barely a whisper, his heart pounding so hard he could barely breathe.

She blinked up at him, trying to hold back more tears. “I saw your interview, Lando,” she murmured, her voice breaking slightly.

He swallowed, nodding, unsure of what to say. “I… I meant every word. I know it doesn’t change what I did, but—”

“I know,” she interrupted gently, stepping closer. “I know you did. And I believe you.”

Lando’s breath hitched, the weight of her words settling over him like a warm blanket, thawing the cold ache that had plagued him for weeks. “Does that… does that mean…”

She nodded, a small, sad smile pulling at her lips. “I forgive you, Lando.”

Unable to hold back anymore, he closed the distance between them, arms wrapping around her, holding her close like she might disappear if he let go. She melted into his embrace, her own arms wrapping around him tightly, her face buried in his chest.

“I’m so, so sorry,” he murmured into her hair, his voice thick. “I never wanted to hurt you. I was so stupid. I should’ve known—”

“Shh,” she whispered, pulling back slightly to look up at him. “We both said things we didn’t mean. I just… I missed you so much.”

He cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you, too. I’d give up everything if it meant I’d never hurt you again. I don’t care about the championship, Y/N. None of it matters without you.”

Her hand came up to rest on his cheek, and she gave him a watery smile. “I don’t want you to give up anything, Lando. I just… I want to be part of your life, not something you feel you need to push away.”

“You are my life,” he said fervently, pressing his forehead against hers. “And I’ll never, ever forget that again.”

She laughed softly, though it was more of a hiccup, as more tears slipped down her cheeks. “Promise?”

He nodded, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I swear. I’m not letting go this time, no matter what. You’re stuck with me.”

“Good,” she whispered, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw, grounding herself in his warmth. “Because I don’t think I could ever walk away again.”

Without another word, he leaned down, capturing her lips in a gentle, lingering kiss, the kind that seemed to say all the things he’d failed to put into words. She kissed him back, pouring every ounce of her love and forgiveness into it, their arms tightening around each other as if trying to make up for every moment they’d lost.

When they finally pulled back, both of them breathless, she rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“You know,” she said softly, looking up at him with a mischievous smile. “I kind of enjoyed seeing you grovel on national television.”

He chuckled, his laugh a little choked with emotion. “Well, if that’s what it takes to make you stay, I’ll do it every day if I have to.”

She shook her head, a laugh escaping her. “I don’t think you’ll need to. Just… remember to let me in, okay? We’re a team, you and me.”

He nodded, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “A team. Forever.”

And as they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, Lando felt for the first time in weeks that everything might actually be okay again.

[brattyspence]

u up? | s.reid

summary: early season!spencer is reluctant to request nudes from gn!reader while hes gone on a case. warnings & key info: nudes (what an ugly word), sexual themes implied, nothing rlly explicitly stated. a very reluctant and maybe insecure spencer, a hint of teasing  a/n: this is rlly just a drabble but i love the idea of early season!spencer who is kind of nervous to ask for things but also rlly down bad for reader! maybe i’ll make more with this pairing bc its so fun. word count: 1.5k my masterlist!

Spencer flopped back into the queen-sized bed with a sigh. The hotel room was small, the generic beige walls blending into the generic beige room. The only light source he had at present from was the warm, yellow light of the bedside lamp and the screen of his phone.

The team had successfully closed another case. The unsub was apprehended after a week-and-a-half long chase, but he didn’t feel any better.

The relief that followed long cases like this one was different. Of course the week had been long and tiring. He hadn’t exactly slept well between the late nights at the local precinct and the looming anxiety about finally catching the guy. When Hotch made the decision to fly out the following morning to allow the team to get some sleep, he wasn’t so thrilled. 

He had returned to his hotel room, showered off the day (and it’s germs) before attempting to get into bed, but something was amiss. 

Catching the unsub didn’t mean just another solved case, but it also meant coming home to you. Maybe it was selfish, sure. Still, he had looked forward to it all day, and the sudden change in plans threw him off. Here he was, on top of the scratchy maroon bedspread of the hotel, very awake and very much frustrated by the prospect of spending another night apart from you. 

Sexual frustration and Spencer were two things you never would have put together. He was the most patient man in the world to you. Sometimes you still consider it his biggest flaw. When you first began dating him, it took weeks for him to work up the nerve to kiss you first. Sex was another beast. Somehow he wasn’t comfortable initiating anything for fear that he was pressuring you, and it seemed that no amount of reassurance would encourage him to make the first move. 

You were half asleep in bed when you heard the buzz of a new notification. You lifted your head from its spot in the pillow, and patted your hand around to find your phone somewhere in the mess of sheets in your bed. When you found it, you squinted as your eyes adjusted to the bright screen in the darkness of your room. He never liked to interrupt you when you were sleeping. It was another one of his obscure demonstrations of love. If you ever texted him past 9 PM, he would delve into a rant about how the blue light of your screen would keep you up all night, or how sleep deprivation could cause a multitude of issues, and “I just don’t want to be the reason you didn’t get a good night’s sleep.”

Patient, kind, respectful, and painfully so. 

Which was why you were thoroughly confused when you received what could only be interpreted as a very Spencer Reid version of a ‘u up?’ text at 12:51 AM.

Spencer: Hi. I miss you. Are you awake? 

You: i am now :)  i miss you more. 

Spencer struggled to find the right words to type. He always relied on you dragging it out of him. He drafted a few responses, deleting them immediately. His fingers hovered the keyboard for a moment, contemplating if he should just let it go.

You watched the ellipses come and go as he typed. It disappeared for a few seconds, and then reappeared. Eventually, you decided to call him. 

He picked up on the first ring. 

“Hey,” he said. His voice was soft, maybe more so than usual. “I’m sorry for waking you.”

“You don’t need to apologize. I was hoping to hear your voice,” you replied.

“But it’s so late. You should be sleeping, and now-”

“Spencer,” you replied, cutting him off. “I don’t care about that. You’ve never been one to message so late, so I know something must be bothering you. Talk to me.”

You heard the soft rustle of fabric against the microphone. 

“I was just really looking forward to coming home tonight.”

You sighed. “I know. I was looking forward to it, too.”

“I just…” he trailed off. “I was thinking about you all day. Thinking about seeing you, thinking about… just thinking about you.”

“Hm.” You sandwiched the phone between your ear and shoulder before sitting up. The jersey sheets pooled around your waist as you leaned across your nightstand, flicking on the bedside lamp. Your room filled with the soft glow. “Thinking about me?”

“Yeah.” His voice was almost a whisper. “That’s all.”

“I don’t think that’s all, honey.” 

You could visualize his reaction through the phone, the same reaction he always had when you pinned down his real intentions. He probably made an attempt to roll his eyes and brush off your comments, but he’d blush seconds later and avoid eye contact, knowing you were right. 

“Why do you… say that?” Somehow his voice was even softer.

“It’s one in the morning, Spence. You never call this late,” you explain. “And you’ve been away for a whole 10 days.”

“Yeah.” He swallowed audibly. 

“Yeah,” you repeat. “So you clearly want something from me.”

Silence.

“Do I need to drag it out of you?”

He huffed.  “It feels really juvenile. And I just respect you so much, and I don’t want you to ever think that I’m using you for anything, or that I don’t value you-”

“Spencer. We talked about this.” 

“Right.” He sighed. He held the phone to his ear with one hand, the other pressing into his eyelids as he formulated a response. 

“So,” you clear your throat, and sit back into your pillows, your phone lying across your chest. “Ask me.”

“I don’t…” he exhales. He’s struggling to come to terms with the fact that you have him figured out so well. He’s quiet for a few seconds before he gives in reluctantly. “I was looking forward to seeing you tonight. Not just talking.”

“Spencer Reid,” you reply, amused. Teasing him was just too easy sometimes, especially when he was so easy to rile up, even if he knew you were just joking with him. “Are you asking me for nudes?”

“I… It just sounds so wrong. Nevermind. Forget I said anything.”

“Oh, come on. Just ask me.”

He groaned. “I don't want you to think that my love for you has anything to do with your body. You know that, right? Because it doesn't. Although I do love… looking at you. That sounded weird. I just mean that I don't want to put you in a position where you feel commodified based on something like your physical appearance when you have so much more to give, and it's not respectful of you. You're brilliant and kind and so, so good to me, and it’s just so vulgar, I think-”

He fell quiet as his phone buzzed in his hands. He could just see the preview of the text you had sent him. After changing the call to speakerphone, he opened it, scrolling through the carousel of photos, taking in the images.

“You think..?”

“Jesus Christ…” he breathed, opening a slideshow of photos you had taken just for him. Sent to him, for his personal use. He would have felt bad about it if he wasn’t so horribly entranced by the sight of them. Whatever was left of his rambling fizzled out.

“You're not gonna finish your sentence?” You asked.

“I…” swipe. “God, I don't remember what I was saying.”

You chuckled. “Does that fix your problem?”

He was clearly short circuiting. “Mhm. It does.”

“See what happens when you ask, Spencer?”

“I feel guilty,” he replied, his voice breathy and quiet. He was clearly having some kind of internal struggle about the ethicality of the situation. It didn’t bother him enough to look away, though.

“Why?” You ask. 

“Because… these are really…” He stopped. Although you couldn’t see it, his cheeks were burning red. “Are you sure you’re okay with me having these?”

“Spencer,” you say. “You’re being ridiculous. You’ve seen me naked plenty of times. I watched you fold and organize my sock drawer without my asking last week. You preheat my coffee mug for me every morning. I’m not just okay with you having these. I want you to have them.”

Oh. He swallows thickly, forcing himself to close the app and come back to his senses.

“But…” He trails off. He still sounds a little distant, pausing a bit too long between words, clearly still looking the photos over. “How did you… did you have these ready to send?”

“I did. I took them the other night. I was just waiting for you to ask.”

You wait a few seconds to see if he says something else. He doesn't. The line falls silent.

“Are you okay over there?” You ask.

“Yeah,” he clears his throat, exiting the app and putting his phone down on the pillow next to him. “Yeah. Sorry. I just… wow.”

You were used to his continual praise, but somehow his lack of words was the best compliment he could have offered you.

“Next time just ask, okay?”

He swallows. “Mhm. I will.”

“You should go have fun. I'm gonna go back to sleep. I'll see you soon, pretty boy.”

“Yeah… you should get some sleep. I’ll… see you tomorrow. Thank you.”

You smile to yourself. “Goodnight, Spencer.”

[ofourlee]

Hello hello! I love your work, can you write about megumi being so deeply in love with reader, like straight up head over heels for her, he makes everything about reader, reader is his first priority, he babies her, etc? 😊

i love this 💕

megumi x reader

from being a dedicated listener, to going all out of his way just for you, megumi was just THAT boyfriend.

maybe it was the way he looks at you, the way he brushes a strand away from your face, or the way he memorizes every single detail about you.

he hadn’t planned on memorizing all your favorites, but somehow, he did.

he knew the exact way you took your coffee, the way you do your makeup, your likes, and your dislikes.

“i got you macarons. i hope it’s still your favorite, baby.” he says.

“thanks, how’d you know?”

“saw it in my notes.”

“notes?”

“notes about your favorites.”

it was the way he showed he loved you: a collection of tiny, thoughtful gestures.

you didn’t have to ask; he just knew.

somehow, that made you feel more seen, more loved, than any words ever could.

it was the way he would offer to peel your shrimps since you hated peeling it yourself,

or the way he would always cut your fruits, charge your phone, or brush your hair.

he would ALWAYS put you first.

when megumi orders takeout, he always chooses the place with your favorite dumplings, even if he’d been craving something else.

and whenever he talked about the future, he’d catch himself saying “we” without thinking—we’ll go here, we’ll try that.

to him, everything felt like it had a little more meaning, a little more life, with you in it.

sometimes, he’d crack jokes here and there;

“do you think this new lipstick suits me?” you ask him.

“very much, baby.”

“really? its smudge proof.”

“testing please.”

but there are also serious ones.

“i love you very much.” he says and you lay on his chest.

“i bet you say that to everyone.”

“i do tell everyone that i love you.”

he might be an imperturbable person, but in those quiet, unspoken moments, he realized—his world was no longer complete without you at its center.

[togrowoldinv]

The Retreat

Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

When you go on a church retreat, you have a very interesting conversation with Wanda

Note: I have missed writing for this Wanda! Can’t get her out of my head lately. Y’all enjoy this one!

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, sad Wanda, oral and fingering (W receiving), age gap

Milf Wanda Masterlist, Main Masterlist

When you were asked to go on a women’s retreat, you immediately wanted to say no. The only reason you even go to church is to appease your parents. But it’s the final retreat of the year and you are expected to attend at least one.  

So, you find yourself now waiting by the church bus to load up. You watch as mothers say goodbye to their children and wives kiss their husbands. One family in particular catches your eye.  

The Maximoffs. Wanda, the matriarch, is a good friend of your mothers. They just moved to town a few years ago, but have made quite an impression in the town. Her husband travels for work, so Wanda is often found alone at the church service while her twin boys are in class for the children.  

You wonder how a man could ever leave a woman like that alone. She is definitely the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. Some part of you has been attracted to her since you first laid eyes on her.  

Wanda gets on the bus and sits a few seats from you. She gives you a small wave. You put in your headphones to try and drown out the world. The drive only lasts a few hours and soon you’re at the retreat.  

You check in and get your room key. It doesn’t take long to figure out that you will have a roommate when you open the door and see there are two beds. You're praying it’s not one of the older ladies or someone in your peer group who you can’t stand.  

The prayer is answered when the door latch opens and none other than the one and only Wanda Maximoff walks in.  

“Well, hi y/n!” She says. “I didn’t know we were roommates.”  

“Hey Mrs. Maximoff. I didn’t either.”  

“Oh please call me Wanda. This weekend we are peers, sweetheart,” she says.  

She puts her bags on the bed next to the window. Sitting on the bed, she looks around the room. Wanda spots an itinerary on the bedside table.  

“Looks like a busy weekend,” she analyzes. “We should get going to the first session.”  

“Oh, I was thinking I would just rest tonight,” you reply.  

“Nonsense, y/n,” Wanda says. “You came all this way. You might as well try and enjoy it. I know you aren’t feeling the spirit these days, but let me try and do something about that, okay?”  

Your pulse quickens. How can she see right through you? Maybe she’s just being nice. Or maybe it’s worse and your mother asked her to look out for you this weekend.  

She stands and waits for you to join her. You sigh and follow Wanda out the door.  

The first session goes better than you thought it would. At least the food was good and the middling company was made a little better by Wanda’s presence.  

When you get back to the room, it is freezing cold in there. You notice Wanda shivering even in her sweatshirt and sweatpants she has on for bed. Still, you both try to go to sleep for the night.  

At some point though, you get a feeling someone is watching you while you sleep. Or more accurately, as you try to sleep in the arctic environment. Your eyes flutter open to see Wanda sitting up in her bed.  

“What time is it?” You ask her.  

“Early,” Wanda replies. Her voice is gravely, and if you think about it too much you might even be turned on by it.  

“Are you cold?”  

She nods. “The heat isn’t working. I tried, but can’t fix it.”  

You roll out of bed and walk to the thermostat on the wall. Wanda follows you and stands close behind you. You can hear her breathing as you investigate the issue.  

“Can you fix it?” She asks.  

“Unfortunately, I cannot,” you reply. Wanda sighs.  

You turn around and Wanda is still very close to you.  

“We have one option here,” she begins. “To sleep together.”  

“Oh,” you mumble. “We- um-”  

“We could snuggle and then our body heat will keep us warmer,” Wanda further explains. “What do you say?”  

“Okay.”  

“Okay,” Wanda says.  

She leads the way to your bed hoping since it’s the one away from the window it’ll be a little bit warmer. Wanda crawls into the bed and pulls the covers down. She waits for you to join her. You get into the bed cautiously, keeping a little distance between you two.  

“Come on closer, baby. I don’t bite,” Wanda says. She grins at herself.  

You get closer to her and she wraps an arm around your waist. You drape one of your arms across the pillow and she positions herself with her head between your neck and shoulder. Admittedly, it is warmer with the two of you snuggling together.  

Eventually, you both fall into a deep sleep and the snuggling becomes more relaxed. It feels natural when the two of you wake up in the morning still intertwined.  

“Good morning,” you say softly, trying not to get lost in her green eyes.  

“Good morning,” Wanda says. Her face is close to yours. You can practically see every detail of her perfect face. “We should get ready for the day.”  

“Right,” you say, breaking out of your trance. “Of course.”  

You two break apart and you miss her warmth already. When you two show up at breakfast, several people are already in the room.  

“Wanda! Y/n! Join our table!” The leader of the women’s group calls you both over. “How did you two sleep?”  

“Quite well,” Wanda replies. “It was cold, but we made do.”  

“Oh, we can have someone look at your heat,” the leader replies.  

“Thanks that would be-” you start, but are interrupted.  

“That’s alright,” Wanda says, placing a hand on your forearm. “We are okay.”  

It's a strange response, but you try not to read into it. She probably just doesn’t want to cause any trouble. The breakfast lecturer starts soon and your attention shifts.  

At the end of the day, you and Wanda find yourselves sitting in your room once again. Dinner isn’t for another hour, so you are just waiting around.  

“Should we work on our exercises?” Wanda asks, breaking the silence.  

“What?”  

“The vulnerability exercises we talked about today in the final session,” Wanda explains.  

“Oh, sure.”  

Wanda smiles. She sits on the edge of her bed and pats the spot next to her.  

“I’ll go first,” she says. 

“Remind me of the rules,” you ask.  

“We reveal something to each other that no one else knows. So that we can release it and let the weight go.”  

You nod. You have no idea what Wanda might say. Her life seems perfect.  

“Vision left me,” Wanda blurts out quickly.  

“What?” You ask in shock. “Wanda, I- what happened?”  

You hadn’t seen them interact much, but you never assumed that he wasn’t still in the picture. Just that he had been traveling.  

Wanda looks down, playing with the ring on her finger. You can tell she’s holding back tears.  

“Wanda, it’s okay. You don’t have to explain. I'm really sorry.”  

“No, it might help if I do,” Wanda says. “Things just got bad. They went from okay, to maybe not so good, to fuck we’re over.”  

Your eyes go wide. Never have you ever heard Wanda curse like that.  

“How long ago was it over?”  

“A few months,” Wanda says.  

“And you haven’t told anyone?”  

She shakes her head. “I just keep saying he’s away on business. The truth is he hasn’t touched me in almost a year.”  

“So, that snuggling we did last night was?” 

“The first time I’ve remotely been that close to someone in a year.”  

“Jesus,” you mumble. She doesn’t even scold you for using the Lord’s name in vain. “Can I hug you?”  

You figure she needs human connection now more than ever. She nods and you take Wanda in your arms. She melts against you. Tears fall down her face and soak into your shirt.  

“It’s okay,” you whisper softly to her. “You’re okay, Wanda.”  

“I’m not,” she says through sobs.  

“You will be,” you reply. “I’m here for you. My parents are here for you. All of these stupid, annoying women here are on your side too, okay? We won’t let you fall.”  

Wanda pulls away some and looks at you. You run your hand through her hair and brush your thumb against her cheek gently. She leans in just enough for you to know what’s about to happen.  

“Wanda,” you say. She keeps moving forward. “Mrs. Maximoff.”  

That makes her stop. She looks at you with confusion in her eyes.  

“I just want you. Do you not want me, baby?” Wanda asks.  

“Oh, of course I want you. I just haven’t done the exercise yet.”  

“Oh?”  

You take your other hand and pull her closer by her hip. Your lips are almost touching.  

“My secret is that I really, really want to kiss you right now and fuck you until you forget about your loser ex-husband who never deserved you in the first place,” you say.  

Wanda closes the gap between the two of you. Her lips move fervently against yours. You can tell she’s desperate.  

“When’s the last time he kissed you like this?” You ask between kisses.  

“Never,” she replies.  

You smile into her mouth and move to push her back onto the bed. Her legs wrap around your waist as you pin her arms above her head.  

“Fuck, Wanda, you are the most beautiful woman alive,” you tell her.  

“We shouldn’t do this,” she says. It's her final effort at not letting herself feel as good as he deserves to feel. You move your hands off of her just briefly.  

“We should do this, but I'll stop if you really don’t want this,” you tell her.  

“No, I- we just can’t tell anyone, okay?”  

“Yes ma’am.”  

You put your hands back on her. This time, you go straight for the buttons of her jeans. You kiss down her chest and around her belly. Deftly, you pull down her pants and panties in one fell swoop.  

Wanda shivers beneath the feeling of your wet lips against her hips and as you brush your nose lightly against her core.  

“Oh, god, y/n,” she whimpers.  

“So wet for me, Wanda,” you say. You dive into her core with your tongue. Her folds are intoxicating as you bring her more pleasure than she’s ever felt in her life.  

“I need you,” Wanda says. “Please, baby. Please!”  

You take Wanda’s clit in your mouth and move your fingers into her in tandem. She is writhing beneath your touch.  

“Come for me, Mrs. Maximoff,” you say as you feel her reaching her climax.  

“Fuck!” Wanda comes hard against you.  

You lick her as she comes down and move up her body slowly. You lie next to her and kiss her cheek softly. The juxtaposition of that soft kiss and what you were just doing between her legs makes her heart flutter.  

“Are you okay?” You ask her. She is staring at the ceiling.  

“Yes,” she replies. “Thank you for everything.”  

“Anytime Wanda,” you say. You ignore the ache between your legs, knowing Wanda needs time to process this. “Should we go to dinner?”  

“Oh, I guess so,” she says.  

You sit up, but Wanda grabs your arm before you can stand.  

“I want to fuck you later, okay?” Wanda says. “I just-”  

“Need a minute,” you finish for her.  

“Yeah. Thanks for understanding, sweetheart. It’ll be worth the wait I promise.”  

Wanda kisses you deeply before she gets off the bed to get cleaned up. You watch as she walks with a new bounce in her step that she didn’t have before.  

Maybe this retreat will be interesting after all.  

[enwoso]

Another edition of clumsy Lovie: they’re going on a team walk the morning of a game and it’s been miserable weather so there’s lots of puddles and the ground is slippy and Lovie is running around with Kyra but trips and falls right into a big cold dirty puddle and normally she’d hop back up and say she’s ok but she’s hurt herself is all muddy and embarrassed and she’s screaming out for alessia and she wants to be in dry clothes but obviously not an option with them all being on a walk

MUDDY PUDDLES — alessia russo x child!reader

grumpy masterlist

“be careful lovie!” alessia called out as she watched as you and kyra ran around, the team being on a pre-match walk. much to the teams dismay, the weather not being the nicest. the clouds forming grey and dark as a light drizzle covered the streets of north london.

you were in your own little bubble with kyra chasing you weaving in and out of the puddles as they splashed up your new boots, not hearing an inch of whatever your mummy had just said.

all you could hear was kyra’s chants that she was going to get you as you giggled echoed throughout the park.

“she’s gonna fall- i can see it happening” alessia grumbled as a sigh left her lips, a small chuckle coming from vic at her best friends complaints.

“well tiny is your child so it would make sense-“ vic started as quick side look was given from alessia as she opened her mouth to try and defend herself but alessia knew she had two left feet so whatever she said wouldn’t help her case — if anything probably make it worse.

“lovie’s got those boots on and there massive on her, but she insisted on wearing them” alessia commented as she winced slightly watching you trip but you managed to stay on your feet, somehow.

vic just let another laugh out knowing you were very stubborn something you didn’t get from the blonde as the topic changed to the upcoming international break and the fixtures. alessia making sure her eyes flickered to you running around every few seconds.

the team wondered further along the park on the pre match walk as you and kyra continued your game of chase, alessia and a few others stopping to grab a coffee from a little stall turning her back on you for a few moments.

“um a small flat white please-“ alessia asked the barista as they nodded quickly putting a small take away cup into the machine before going to serve the next girl behind alessia as vic stood close by.

alessia’s coffee was finished fairly quickly but just as the blonde turned around, her coffee cup warming her hands, vic still talking her ear off about the new book she’d been reading. “oh you’ve got to be kidding me“ alessia cut vic off as she watched as you slipped and fell in a stream of water on the footpath. a muddle puddle at that.

“what-.. oh” vic questioned before following alessia’s eye line and seeing you. “you did call it less!” vic smiled hoping to lighten up the mood as a small huff come from the blonde next to her.

your boot being a few inches away from you as you sat in the puddle, kyra yet to realise that you were no longer chasing her and instead sat in pool of muddy water. cursing herself for not getting you to take those stupid boots off your feet that were a two sizes too big for you.

alessia waited, stood still for a moment wondering if you were just going to hop back up like you usually did, chirping a small ‘i’m okay’ but when that didn’t happen that’s when you started to wail.

tears streaming down your face, catching the entire team and probably the entire park’s attention. kyra stopping in her tracks as she winced. alessia passing her coffee which she’d yet to have a sip at to vic to hold.

“lovie, c’mere. it’s okay” your mummy cooed as she held her hand out for you to grab as she pulled you up from the wetness of the puddle, revealing the mess of your clothes you’d made. your sobs still echoing around the park.

you entire bottom half was soaked through as well as half your t-shirt through your rain coat. “mummy i hurt my knee” you said as you bottom lip continued to wobble as mummy walked you back towards the group as she tried to figure out what was going to be the best option right now.

“don’t worry baby, we’ll get you changed as quick as we can” your mummy said softly as you gripped her hand a little tighter, the feeling of your wet clothes was starting to annoy you as they felt sucky and clung to your skin.

“tiny what you like eh!” beth joked as she ruffled you hair as a few giggle came from the team as they took in your soaked form. small little ringlet curls formed in your hair from the rain.

normally you would have laughed with them and said you were a brave girl but you were now cold, wet and had a grazed knee as you clung to the leg for a small hint of warmth from your mummy awaiting her next move.

“i’m gonna have to get her changed somehow, otherwise she’s gonna catch a cold” alessia’s brow furrowing but her car was at least fifteen minutes away and then driving back home was another fifteen on top of that.

“why don’t you just drive to the stadium and get her something from the armoury, i’m sure they’ll have something warm in there for tiny” lotte shrugged knowing it wasn’t long until the game kicked off, it was an idea and alessia didn’t have many so it was probably going to have to do.

“that’s a good idea actually-“ alessia pondered for a minute before deciding that’s what she’ll do, it was the quickest option she had for the time limit she was on. you were a little happier knowing you were a little closer to getting out your wet clothes.

“i’ll meet you guys at the stadium then” alessia smiled as she checked the time on her watch, as the rest of the team nodded.

“less- less your coffee” vic called out, holding up the small coffee cup as if it was a trophy as alessia waved it off not wanting it anymore that and the fact it would most likely to be cold, as vic turned to her teammates wondering if any of them wanted a cold but untouched flat white. all of them grimacing as they shook their heads leaving vic stuck with holding the white takeaway cup.

“lovie, mummy will get a plaster for your sore knee when we get back to the car” your mummy smiled as she lifted you onto her hip, hoping that carrying you back to the car would be a little quicker as you nodded.

“mummy?” you said quietly it almost being a whisper, as your mummy hummed waiting for you to continue. “i get the gunnersaurus onesie?” you asked having seen it in the armoury the last time but mummy said you didn’t need it, so you sadly walked away empty handed from the gunnersaurus onesie.

alessia sighed, part of her knew that was going to happen and the other part of her was hoping you’d forgotten about it, “we’ll see lovie” as your mummy carried on walking towards her car.

[kyu-piddy]

Ranking (some) twst love triangles on how messy they are

An: This is a very informal ranking and very informal type of writing. They’re just little overviews of how I personally think these love triangles would function. Hope you enjoy it. :)

Ps: This is the first time I publish something that features my favorite character! Hopefully I didn’t favor him too much.

Gn reader x Trey, Cater, Azul, Jade, Jamil, Kalim, Silver, Lilia

Trigger warnings: Swearing

2.1k words

Tiers:

S tier- The love triangle of doom. Messiest love triangles, where it’s all too melodramatic and/or complicated.

A- Not as messy as the above, but still a delicate bomb to diffuse.

B- Standard love triangle. They aren’t at each other's throat constantly, but leave them alone long enough and they will start fighting.

C- Chill love triangle. Either because they’re really good friends, or just because they’re that confident in their victory.

D- Is this even a love triangle? There are indeed two people who like you, but one has dropped out of the race for one reason or the other.

Trey vs Cater

Do you know those times where you and a stranger are both trying to get through a door in opposite directions, and while trying to let the other pass you just keep getting in front of each other, in a sort of embarrassing dance of polite smiles while internally cursing the other person? Well, that is basically the Trey x Reader x Cater love triangle.

Cater and Trey are both really perceptive of their own feelings and of others, so they would be aware of the others' crush.

They’re also some of the fakest motherfuckers in the cast (only behind Azul, Jade and Jamil) so they would not even think of confronting each other.

Initially they’d put this veneer of pseudo politeness, throwing some double entendres to each other and not making any moves on you.

But as time progresses they’re definitely becoming little shits to each other.

Trey is exploiting his baking talent and his unique magic to the max, making your favorite foods and serving them to you and Cater, making sure you see how Cater gags as he tries it, the food's flavor being imposed with a horrid one like old socks.

Trey is also using his dependable and mature reputation to give you advice that subtly favors him and subtly makes Cater look like a dunce.

Man is full on telling you every embarrassing story of Caters disguised as going down on a trip to memory lane, but always while you’re with more people around, so they can tell you how Trey swept in and saved the day.

Cater on the other hand, is making sure to seduce you with his tech savviness and social media knowledge.

He’s taking you to the hottest places in town and taking pictures of you both, posting them on his magicam with suspicious captions that make a ton of your friends start asking about your “boyfriend”.

Cater is also loudly proclaiming to everyone who will listen in the Heartslabyul common room the plans he had that day with you.

He used to also proclaim the ones he would have in the future, but stopped after Trey crashed one of his cafe hopping dates with you, creating the most bizarre outing of your life, balancing the polite shit talking of these two.

If Cater didn’t live with Trey he’d probably dox him on the twisted wonderland equivalent of Twitter. Trey would do the same if he knew how to use Twitter.

The worst part is that neither of them will back off or give the finishing blow of confessing.

They're stuck in this loop of ruining the others momentum that their friendship is close to breaking, so either you notice and step up, or someone else notices and gives them a stern talking to.

Out of their dorm, the only one besides them I see figuring it out, is Ace, but Ace is no match for Trey and Cater.

They’re denying it to his face and making Ace feel like a complete idiot.

When you finally notice the mess that these two have made, if you don’t confront them, they’re still going to be in denial.

You have to be firm! Tell them head on who you want, before they make the whole of Heartslabyul collapse.

In terms of the messiness of this love triangle, I give it a B.

It’s annoying and messy, since they’re both so evasive and a little lacking in the making substantial moves department, but they’re still chill on how they treat you and the uninvolved parties (most of the time at least).

Azul vs Jade

Azul and Jade are both conniving and scheming master mind wannabes, but they also tend to rely on each other for support, so pairing them up against each other will lead to some sort of 4d intergalactic chess competition between them, while you are playing checkers and surprisingly still winning.

They’re the kind of smart that turns back around into being kind of stupid.

Jade is like a weird kid in a horror movie, all weird phrases and sinister smiles, but Azul isn’t much better with his mob boss vibe.

You can try running from them, but these fuckers must have put some sort of tracking gps on you because they always appear at the worst time.

Neither of them really knows how to even be romantic to win you over.

Azul is following some sort of guide like “How to make her fall for you in a fortnight”, taking notes and everything.

But he does tend to exaggerate with his gestures, not as much as Kalim would, but just enough to seem sorta of fake.

He’d even try to offer you suspiciously good deals, like “Go on a date with me and I’ll give you a study guide for alchemy”.

He only added one teensy eensy hidden clause that if he didn’t enjoy the date enough, you’d have to accept to go on another one.

But Jade is there to rain on his parade and tell you exactly what line and page you should search for suspicious activity.

Unlike Azul, Jade doesn’t try to conform to the human way of courting.

He is going to share his mushroom collection with you and also scare the shit out of you with ominous warnings of their specific properties.

He’d probably even make stuff up or embellish it to sound worse just to see your reaction.

Azul is definitely trying to end any time you have with Jade, giving him tasks right as the eel is spending time with you.

But it tends to go bad for Zuzu, as Jade just brings you along or purposefully half asses the task.

They’re also snipping each other with pointed comments that sound more like thinly veiled threats of violence.

Well, Jade’s threats are more violence oriented, while Azul’s are more of the mansplain manipulate malewife variety.

But what neither of them was prepared for was Floyd’s fourth wheeling.

Initially, Floyd thought it was pretty funny to see the other two beefing, but he gets bored fast.

He’s going to start taking you away from the other two so he can watch them fume in anger.

If he’s in the mood, he might even try to play matchmaker with one of them, or start shit talking both of them. The latter is more likely.

This is another pair of fools who won’t confess. They pride themselves so much as always being thirty steps ahead that they will try their hardest to create a situation where you have to choose one of them.

But it might all be for nothing because Floyd might just feel like telling you and then there goes any sense of mysteriousness down the drain.

I’ll give this love triangle an A. It’s definitely messy as hell, but it could always be worse.

Kalim vs Jalim

Oh boy. This is the love triangle from hell. Nuclear fallout levels of toxicity, and you’re the bomb.

This is a type of love triangle that no one even knows is a love triangle.

Kalim is the most obvious person on the planet with his crush.

He's showering you with expensive gifts, buttering you up like you’re a particularly tasty muffin and following you around like a lost puppy.

Even though he’s doing all that, homeboy will not use his brain cell to deduce he has a crush on you immediately.

As soon as he does figure it out (which bless his heart, might take a bit) he will be dead set on confessing to you, only being stopped by Jamil.

Jamil is putting the brakes on Kalims stunts, but not out of the kindness of his heart.

He knows he can’t directly stop Kalim, so instead he’s going to try to slow him down, and win you over behind everyone’s back.

Jamil is actually good at the art of romancing.

He’ll offer you tasty meals (disguised as leftovers of the things he made for Kalim), to braid your hair.

He’ll even offer really solid advice.

The two problems with all of this are that 1) Kalim will most definitely barge in at every given opportunity and cockblock the hell out of Jamil, and 2) You can very easily misinterpret this as friendly or even as part of his duties.

You and everyone else, that is.

I can’t see anyone figuring out Jamil’s crush on you. He’s one of the most discreet people on campus with his feelings.

And with the added grief of sharing them with Kalim, he’s keeping it under lock and key.

Kalim is going to confess. It’s not a matter of if, it’s a matter of when.

He’s strangely serious about the whole thing, bringing a 24 karat ring, with a red diamond bigger than your finger to prove his love to you.

Jamil is fuming. It’s like a kick to the nuts, and what I see it making him step up his game and basically confess to you as well.

He’d confess in a very roundabout way, the kind of confessing that leaves you wondering if you’re reading too much in between the lines. But remember, this is Jamil! Reading inbetween the lines is a required skill to actually understand this man.

This is such a messy love triangle honestly. If you choose Kalim, it’s going straight to Jamil’s mind chamber of repressed trauma. If you don’t choose Kalim, you’re going to have to deal with Al-Asim tears (he ain’t used to being told no in any capacity), which makes Jamil’s duties more stressful.

For all these reasons, I put this love triangle at S tier. Good luck to you, and my condolences. You aren’t leaving this mess unscathed.

Silver vs Lilia

This one is mostly just sad.

Silver is slow in matters of love. He’d be his normal gentlemanly self, barely changing how he behaves towards you, but to others he becomes lowkey really annoying.

Doing his homework? He's mentioning how he saw you through the window during that class. Sword training? He’s reminiscing on how you complimented his technique. Drinking water? You did say you needed to drink more water, maybe he should remind you.

This would most likely lead to Sebek flipping the fuck out and screaming at Silver to either do something about his crush or shut up.

Silver.exe is loading.

And then he just… nods his head and agrees that he should do something about it.

He’s going to get advice from Lilia, who isn’t exactly a master of seduction but at least has more experience under his belt.

Lilia already knew of Silver's crush, and sadly he also already knew of his own crush on you, but bat dad is dropping all of his potential feelings in favor of his son’s.

He’s telling Silver to bring you flowers, to take you out to dinner, to treat you with kindness and respect, the whole shabang.

And Lilia is always staying in the back, watching his little boy grow up. It does hurt him, but not exactly because of his feelings, more because he feels bad about sharing the object of his affections with his son. He’d never want to hurt his boy nor you.

Only Malleus would know of Lilia’s feelings, although Silver has an inkling that something isn’t right.

Lilia would never tell him, and Silver doesn’t know exactly what’s going on in his dad’s mind, but he definitely suspects that something is going on.

If Silver knew of his fathers feelings for you, he’d immediately stop pursuing you, so bat dad is making sure his son never knows what’s actually bothering him.

Malleus on the other hand knows that Lilia has some sort of feelings for you, but is also keeping it under lock and key at the request of Lilia.

Sebek is the only one fully out of the loop, which leads him to comment things that are really hurtful to Lilia.

Seeing as Lilia is emotionally constipated, he’d bottle it all up and proceed like normal.

When Silver confesses, Lilia feels bittersweet. He’s genuinely happy for his son, but pangs of sadness reverberate through his heart.

He’s downplaying his feelings even to himself.

In terms of rating, this is a D. Lilia just carries Silver on his shoulders and then dumps him in the finish line. It’s not even a proper race.

It’s very depressing, seeing as you will never even know about Lilia’s feelings, while Silver will always have an inkling that there’s something going on with his dad.

[no-144444]

the grid: late for a date!

Day 29 of fic-tober! fic-tober masterlist

Featuring: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Alex Albon, Daniel Riccardo, Charles LeClerc, Max Verstappen

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Oscar Piastri: miscommunication

So, it wasn’t a date. As much as you thought it was, Lando showed up. That wasn’t uncommon for your ‘dates’ to turn into ‘Oscar and Lando time’, but it still pissed you off. You just wanted one night with your boyfriend. Not Lando’s.  

You huffed as you sat down at your vanity, carefully cleaning off your face with a wipe. 

“You’re annoyed,” Oscar stated, leaning against the door and watching you. 

“I’m not,” you sighed, truthfully just wanting to be left alone. 

“You clearly are,” he said matter-of-factly. “Talk to me.”

“I thought it was a date,” you explained sheepishly. “I was a little disappointed when Lando showed up. I thought it was just us two, y’know, since we haven’t gone out ‘just us’ in months.”

He sighed and looked down. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“Osc, it's fine. I’m just much annoyed with myself that I didn’t properly read the text-”

“But we should go out, just the two of us. You’re right,” he realised how little he takes you out. “Why don’t you talk to me about this?” 

“You have a lot going on,” you shrugged. “I’m not going to add to it by being a bitch about shit like this.” 

“You’re never a bitch,” his heart ached a little, how could you ever think that he’d ever be annoyed by you? He wrapped his arms around you , pressing soft kisses to your neck and whispering apologies. “I love you so much, I want to be with you as much as possible. Lando was just lonely and called me, so I said yes. I’ll say no in future, yeah?”

You nodded, feeling a lot more loved than before. 

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Lando norris: he forgot. 

It had been weeks in the planning, you both were ecstatic to get to enjoy your favourite restaurant in Brazil. You sat there for 2 hours. In the end you ordered stuff to take out and left a hefty tip for the inconvenience of your boyfriend. You texted and called him at least 20 times. No fucking answer. 

When you got back to the hotel, he wasn’t there either and you started getting worried. Could he be hurt? Surely he wouldn’t forget the important date, he remembered about it last week. 

You called Oscar, scared that Lando was lying in a ditch somewhere or something. 

“Hey Y/n,” his voice came from the other side of the phone. Distantly you could hear the sound of house music playing loudly. 

“Is Lando with you?” You asked. 

“Well, he was a while ago, but now he’s going back to the hotel,” he explained. “Why?”

“Just wanted to check on you guys,” you sighed, unable to keep the disappointment out of your voice. “You all good?” 

“Yeah, I’m with Alex and Zhou, we’re just outside the club now, we’re safe, promise,” he smiled into the phone. 

“Alright, well, I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah? Be careful,” you reminded him. 

“We will,” he nodded. “See you tomorrow.”

As you hung up the phone, the door swung open and Lando appeared. Dishevelled but there. 

“Baby I am so sorry I forgot about-“

“It’s fine,” you sighed, used to the excuses by now. “It’s whatever, Lando.”

“Baby, come on, let me make it up to you,” he tried again, but you stayed unchanged on the topic. 

“Something will always be more important to you,” you mumbled. “And every single time it kills me. And I just let it. Because sadly, I love you so much that I let you treat me like this.”

“Baby that’s not-“

“We planned this months ago, Lando. And I put so much fucking effort in to looking nice for you, and you don’t show. I was so excited to have one fucking night where I wasn’t dating Lando Norris, Championship Fighter, McLaren Number One, McLarens saviour. One fucking might where I could just be a girl who got to dress up night for her boyfriend, who showed up to the date. One night when we could be normal people, that’s what I wanted, Lando.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I have a lot on my mind…”

“Yeah, you do. Maybe we should break up.”

“W-what? You don’t mean that, right baby? Come on, I’m- we’re- you’re the best thing that’s ever fucking happened to me. I don’t wanna lose you-“

“Yeah and you don’t want to have me either! Lando, I do fucking everything for you, I’m so fucking understanding every single time you disappoint or fucking annoy me. I understand that you're going through shit, and I’m here to help you. But I cannot deal with this disrespect anymore, alright? I am worth something! Right? Like, I have to be worth more than what you’re giving me, right?” You said, breaking down. Your plan had been to just keep calm and talk tomorrow, but that clearly flew out the window. 

“I love you-“

“Do you?! Really?!”

You were both silent. 

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Lewis Hamilton: he forgot

The silence was deafening in your shared home. You sat at the table, all dressed up with nowhere to go. 

“Baby, I know I-“

“Just fuck off,” you sighed. “Go back to work, or whatever it was that held you up.”

“I wanna make it up to you, I’m sorry baby,” he sighed, wrapping his arms around you. 

You took a deep breath. “I just wanted one night,” you sighed and he nodded, feeling guiltier by the second. “Away from work and the kids, just one fucking night Lewis.”

“How about a weekend? We drop the kids off at Natalie’s and we can go away for the weekend?” He offered and pressed a kiss to your cheek.. 

“We’re busy this weekend.”

“Cancel it.”

“Cancel my promotion dinner?” You scoffed. “Cancel Ellie’s football match? Cancel half the grid coming over? Cancel Nick’s karting race?” You quested, listing off the things you had to supervise for the weekend. 

He sighed. “I’m sorry baby, I forgot-“

“Yeah. You forgot. You keep fucking forgetting,” you groaned. “I just… I want some time. I’m pissed off right now and I just want to go to bed.”

“I’ll put the kids to bed,” he nodded. “I’m sorry again.”

“You’re always sorry Lewis. Just be there, for once,” you took a deep breath. “If not for me, then for our children. Don’t ruin the relationship because of your busy schedule.” 

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George Russell: you forgot...

You walked into your shared apartment, exhausted after work. 

“Hey darling,” he smiled, taking your bags out of your hands. “You look gorgeous.”

“Thanks love,” you smiled. Then you noticed the suit he was wearing. “You look handsome, what’s the occasion?”

His face fell. “Did you forget?” 

Shit. You did. The fucking anniversary dinner. “No! Just joking!” You laughed. “Give me like 20 minutes to get ready, yeah?”

He smiled. “Alright, just remember our reservations are in a little while.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

You completely forgot about the plans. No gift. No dress. Nothing. 

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You sat at dinner, somehow throwing together something, only to find out it wasn’t a fucking date, but a surprise birthday party. 

Your anniversary is months away. 

“Sorry baby,” he smiled, not one bit sorry. 

“I was terrified! I thought I’d fully forgotten!” You whined, rolling your eyes. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, a promise for more later. 

“I'm sorry darling,” he added, a small wink in one eye as he pulled you into the dance floor. 

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Alex Albon: genuinely injured

You sat in his apartment, waiting for him to finally show his face. He was 40 minutes late, and while this wasn’t a huge deal, you had made dinner which had gone cold, plus you felt your time should be at least worth a text. 

The door finally opened and Alex walked through, well, uncoordinatedly crutched into the room, a huge boot covering his foot. 

“Holy shit, Alex,” you cursed, shocked at the sight in front of you. He blushed slightly. 

“Yeah… accident prone, or whatever my mum called me. I have a few weeks off,” he chuckled. 

“What happened?” you asked, just staring down at the boot. 

“Funny story, Lando-”

“Of fucking course it was you,” you scoffed, looking at the guilty Lando standing beside him. 

“Lando accidentally ran over my foot,” he finished. 

“With what?” you asked, wondering if it was a bike or something, surely Lando was an experienced enough driver to have not driven over Alex’s foot. 

“A car,” Oscar explained. “Twice.” 

You saw red, turning your attention to Lando. “You fucking idiot!” you seethed. You chuckled. “How fucking stupid are you?”

He just giggled and shrugged. “Very?” he offered as an answer. 

“Thank you for bringing him home, now please leave before you cause any more bodily harm,” you sighed, showing Lando the door. You weren’t really mad, just shocked. 

“I’m sorry I was late,” he sighed, sitting on the couch. 

You chuckled. “You don’t have to apologise for that,” joining beside him. “I’m sorry you broke your foot.”

“Lando broke my foot,” he corrected and you just laughed and pressed your lips against his. 

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Daniel Riccardo: he forgot 

You walked into your shared apartment with your head held low. He’d forgotten your anniversary. 

“Baby? Where have you been? Are you alri- you look beautiful,” he stood up, walking over to you. You looked up and he saw the tears streaming. That sinking feeling he’d had all day, the one that told him he forgot something, it finally clicked. He’d forgotten the date. 

“Do you know how humiliating it is when someone stands you up? Do you know how humiliating it is when that gets fucking paparazzied?”

He gasped, no way you’d been subjected to the paparazzi. “Baby I’m so-”

“Sorry? Sure, I  believe  you,” you scoffed. “Just leave me be.”

You walked off to your bedroom and he was left to think about how he could pick up the broken pieces. 

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Charles LeClerc: he’s just being a dick. 

At least he remembered the date, but the fact that he’s sitting on his phone the entire time is literally gaining you pity smiles from other girls in the restaurant. When you went to the bathroom, two girls literally called him a ‘fucking asshole’ for what he’s doing to you, and gave you their numbers so you could be friends and bitch about him. 

“Charles,” you sighed, looking down at your bowl of pasta. You weren’t exactly hungry anymore, and now you just wanted to go home instead of being publicly humiliated like this. 

He looked up from his phone for a split second. “Yeah?” straight back down. 

“Are you going to eat any time soon?” you sighed, looking at his full plate. 

He looked at his food, then picked up a fry and ate it. “Eating, see?”

You rolled your eyes. “I want to go home.” 

He finally put down his phone. “But we are having a nice date, no?” 

“A ‘nice date’ usually includes talking of some sort, and maybe just a little bit of attention from my boyfriend,” you gritted out. “This is what I was talking about, if you don’t have time for me, I’d understand Charles. Just don’t waste my time like this.”

He sighed. “I’m sorry-”

“Sorry isn’t cutting it anymore Charles, I’m not just going to wait here forever like some little fangirl who’s just ‘so blessed’ to be dating the Charles LeClerc. I love you, not you being a racing driver, not you being a model, not anything else. I love you, Charles. And I’m starting to feel like you don’t love me back.” 

“Mon ange, please listen-”

“I’m done listening, I’ll see you at home,” you said and got up, actually receiving a clap from the two girls you’d met in the bathroom. 

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Max Verstappen: circumstances end it. 

You called again. And again. And again. 

No answer. As always. 

Long distance was hard, it was always going to be. Max didn’t need to make it any harder by not showing up for your phone-dates. He hadn’t called in months. He hadn’t seen you in over a year. He hadn’t done anything. He was never the first to call or text. He was never the one making the effort. He made you feel like a burden. He made you feel like shit. 

Max: Busy sorry. Can’t make it tonight. 

You: Don’t bother calling again. We’re done. 

Max: What are you talking about???

You: There’s always something more important than us. There’s always something you’d rather do. I’m so done with this shit Max. I want a boyfriend, not a fucking pen pal. I want a boyfriend who texts and calls me back. I want a boyfriend who asks about my day. I want someone who actually cares about me. 

Max: I care about you! Alright, just let me call you later, I’m at HQ right now

You: Max. I. Am. Done. Don’t fucking call me, don’t text me, don’t visit me. Let me live my life in peace. 

Max: Is that really what you want?

A tear fell down your cheek as you read the message. You wanted Max, but you knew you could never truly have him, he’d always be married to his craft, always be more in love with winning than he’d ever been with you. 

You: Yes. 

You have now blocked this user. 

You had to think about yourself.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

fic-tober masterlist

taglist: @anotherapollokid @theseerbetweenus @simbaaas-stuff @5sospenguinqueen @yootvi@linnygirl09@lanadelray1989@teamnovalak@gleeblegnarp

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

Love, Money, Fame

The three times that Seungcheol tries to show you he cares, and the one time you finally let him.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: mentions of anxiety and poor mental heatlh. A tiny bit of angst.

This is part of the Three Times series. This one is inspired by this reaction.

One

Seungcheol likes you. He’s liked you since he laid eyes on you. Admittedly, one of the things he likes most right off the bat is that you’re on the shy side. He thinks it’s cute that you flush bright red at the tiniest bit of attention. And heaven forbid he lightly touch you or flirt with you. He’s actually incredibly surprised when you agree to go out with him and he swears he’ll be on his best behavior for it. 

The first sign is actually when he’s walking you home from the first date. He puts you on the inside of the sidewalk so he can walk along the street edge and casually reaches for your hand. It’s sweaty and you apologize for it. He smiles kindly. “Do I make you that nervous?” It might sound like a tease, but he really hopes your answer is no and there’s another reason for it.

You can’t quite meet his eyes but he’s relieved that you don’t pull your hand away from his. The last thing he wants to do is embarrass you. “Maybe. The whole concept of dating does, to be honest.”

He hums. “Haven’t dated much?” He hopes you don’t take the question as a jab, because it’s not. He just wants to know where you’re at so he can meet you there.

However, you shrug. “I wouldn’t say that… I’ve just been burned pretty badly before. The idea of starting over is kind of intimidating.”

He loves that you can be honest with him despite your shyness. He squeezes your hand lightly. “It’s your pace, Y/N. I’m not in a hurry.”

You glance up at him and give him a shy smile and squeeze his hand back lightly. The two of you fall into conversation again as he walks you home, but once you’re safely inside your apartment, his mind wanders to what exactly you meant by being burnt badly before. It kind of makes him heat with anger. You’re so sweet. How dare someone mistreat you or take advantage of your love?

Later, while staring up at a dark ceiling, he resolves to make sure he doesn’t burn you too. 

Two

He brings you to a house party. Things are going really well between you it seems. You’re still shy, but there are moments that you seem to warm up to him over the last couple months. This is one of those warm moments. You’re leaning into his side while standing in the kitchen and talking to a couple of his friends. He’s kind of touched that despite your nervousness about meeting new people you’re braving through it next to him, and because of him, because he asked you to accompany him. He gently rubs your back as you stumble over the words you’re trying to get out. 

He’s also relieved that Jeonghan bites back the grin at your little stumble. He’s already warned all of them that you’re pretty shy and he doesn’t want to have to hit his friend for embarrassing you. 

You’re mid sentence when there’s a loud sound that echoes through the kitchen. Someone’s popped a balloon. He feels you tense against his hand and glances down at you. You don’t look nervous. You look scared, every muscle in your body tensed and tears pricking your eyes. Instincts take over because he absolutely does not like this look on you. “Come on. Let’s step outside.” 

Your feet are planted and he has to nudge you a few times to get you to move. By the time he slides the back door open and you step out into the night air, your breathing is a little jagged. He does his best to be gentle, because he doesn’t want to startle you anymore. “Talk to me, Y/N. How can I help?”

“I’m fine. Just give me a minute.” There’s something mean about your expression all of the sudden and it takes him by surprise. He really tries not to take it personally, especially when you back up to keep him at arms length. You pace for a second and he lets you. When you stop and place your hands over your face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap.” Something inside him plummets at the crack in your voice. 

Cautiously, he steps forward, placing a hand on your back. “It’s fine. You were startled, I get it. Does that happen often for you?”

You nod and he thinks you look a little numb now. He hates it. “Why don’t we sit out here for a while? We can stick our feet in the pool.” 

Your eyes light up a little at the offer and he feels kind of proud when you lead him to the side of the pool and start peeling your shoes and socks off. You seem to do a 180 when your feet hit the warm water, the tension leaking from your shoulders. 

He loses track of time there by the pool while he talks to you. He decides he’ll ask you if you really want to go to something like this next time. Maybe this isn’t the best environment for you.

Three

Seungcheol is at dinner with you and some of your friends. He agreed immediately when you asked because you’ve already met many of his friends and he thinks it’s important to show the same courtesy. Your friends are nice. A little protective perhaps, but that’s something he can appreciate. 

They ask him more about what he does for a living - the long nights, the traveling, the working with other idols. He feels like he has an answer for all of this. He loves his job, but it is ultimately just a job and won’t last forever. This seems to be acceptable. 

They ask him what his intentions are with you. Again, a valid and totally expected question. He has an answer for this too. He’d like this to be long term and he really has a soft spot for you. He watches you flush from across the table and grins. He seems to pass this part of the test with flying colors. 

Then they ask how he intends to protect your privacy given what he does for a living. He knows this is a trick question. Either your relationship is out and your privacy is gone, or you’re like a dirty secret. He’s always hated the catch-22 of dating in the profession he’s in, because it will always be anything but normal. But the only reasonable answer is kind of a cop out. He’d follow your lead on it. If you want the relationship to be out, then it will be and he’ll be proud of it. If you want privacy, he’ll do everything he can to preserve it. Your friends seem to recognize it for the cop out that it is but don’t say anything else about the topic. 

Then the threats begin. If he makes you cry, if he mistreats you or cheats on you or lays a hand on you, they’ll be coming after him. He almost laughs and starts to brush it off, but the whole vibe at the table has changed. They’re deadly serious and you’re squirming in your seat, picking at your food. 

“I won’t be doing any of that, but if I ever do, I’ll deserve whatever you guys have planned.” 

He means it and he hopes you can hear it in his voice. He doesn’t need to know your history to know he doesn’t want to repeat any of it.

Four

You’ve dropped off the face of the earth. At first he thinks you both have just been busy. But when he gets a couple days off and reaches out to you, his texts and calls go unanswered. He starts to panic as the hours tick by. Has he done something wrong? Are you okay? 

He’s impatient and worried, so he stops by your apartment with dinner as a peace offering just in case he really has done something wrong. It takes a long time for you to come to the door and when you do his heart drops. “Baby, what’s wrong?” The food is unceremoniously dropped onto the entry table and he’s cupping your face. You look like you haven’t slept much recently and your face looks thinner like you haven’t eaten much lately. 

“Seungcheol, what are you doing here?” You look surprised to see him. 

“I hadn’t heard from you lately and I was getting kind of worried.”

You give him the same look you did by the pool a while back. Despite the red in your eyes, you look a little angry at the intrusion. “Well, I’m fine. Nothing to worry about.”

“Fine, huh?” Seungcheol grinds his teeth. You nod. “Don’t make me do this the hard way, Y/N.”

“What are you talking about?” 

“I’m talking about getting you to open up a little bit. I’m here to help and I will not hesitate to throw you over my shoulder and make sure you’re taking care of yourself.” Seungcheol’s words bite more than he meant them to, but he’s frustrated. You disappear for nearly a week and this is the condition you’re in when he finally sees you?

“Have you always been this pushy?” You scoff. 

Seungcheol rolls his eyes. “Have it your way.” 

You let out a little cry when he scoops you up, tossing you over his shoulder just as promised. With a free hand, he grabs the bag of food. In the kitchen, he carefully places you on a stool. “I had no clue you were such a brat,” he chuckles with the tiniest bit of humor as he unpacks the bag of food, placing a few items in front of you. You have your arms crossed, glaring at him, but he smirks. “Now do I have to feed you? I will.”

“We should break up.” 

His eyes narrow at the threat. “We’ll talk about that after you eat. Now what will it be?”

You huff, peeling off the lid of the take out container, refusing to look at him. The dish isn’t even a quarter of the way empty before he’s abandoning his own food to stand and wrap his arms around you. You realize you’re crying. He doesn’t say anything, just holding you against him, placing a light kiss on the top of your head. It makes you crack open. 

“I’m sorry. It seems like I have to keep apologizing,” you sniffle. 

“I guess it depends on what you’re sorry for,” he mumbles. 

“Being mean. Ghosting you like that. It’s just been a bad week.”

“Just talk to me, baby. I want to help.” He wipes your tears, sitting on the stool next to you. “You don’t have to tell me everything until you’re ready. But tell me how I can help when you’re like this.” He picks up your chopsticks, reaching for a bite of chicken to feed you. You push it away with a chuckle. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to break up with me?” You ask nervously. You didn’t mean anything by the threat earlier and you hope he didn’t take it seriously. 

“I’m sure.” He says it so solidly that there’s little room for doubt. He kisses your cheek for good measure. “Now, come on. You need to eat more.” You don’t fight him this time when he picks up the chopsticks again. There’s something warm in your chest at the way he takes care of you and you aren’t sure why you resisted for so long.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 27

Toji Fushiguro + Weight gain

Did you guys know I love big guys? I do, very much. They’ve been haunting my mind more than usual lately, like nymphs or incubi, and Toji putting on relationship weight makes me froth at the mouth. Im still very sick, but soft Toji has revived me for a moment.

I think this ended up being more fluff than smut, but oh well. Im still sick, and this is what I wanted to write. Readers a chef of some kind.

2024 kinktober masterlist

Toji Fushiguro had never imagined he’d ever be in a happy relationship after the death of his first wife, especially not to the degree where he didn’t feel the need to go out gambling or hustling for money.

Never in the past did Toji think he could lay back in his big fluffy white bed, with more pillows than he truly needed, but had just because he could for once, with an expensive high-quality duvet draped over his middle.

There was a soft scent of something cooking in the air, something sweet from the way Toji felt his tongue salivate. He only started drooling like an animal for few things, one was money, another was you, and the third was something you had pavloved into him. A love for food, and especially sweets.

Up until he met you, eating had simply been to refuel himself. A way to keep going, to keep fighting and stay in shape so he could keep killing, because what else did he have to live for if not to kill? It was just his love that his latest partner, and the one he wanted to stay with for the rest of his life, also knew how to cook, and seemed to have knack for keeping Toji nice and full.

Part of Toji suspected it came from the fact that he had told you about his past and childhood. How he had grown up starved and abused, living for no specific reason other than to give the rest of his clan someone to turn their ire towards.

Or maybe it was that fact that you had caught his eyes lingering on the cakes and cookie displays when you passed by bakeries, if only for a second. Or when Toji allowed himself to hum in satisfaction when he ate something you cooked, not because you just wanted to give him fuel, but because you loved him, and cooking was one of the ways you showed it.

Toji could hear you talking in the kitchen, your voice soft so as to not wake up, but loud enough for your phone to pick up. He could imagine it was laying on the counter as you chopped or kneaded something, the workers at your workplace calling you on your day off to ask questions they should already know the answer to.

A loud exhale left Toji’s lips as he finally pushed himself to sit up, groaning a bit as he swung his legs out over the side of your way too soft bed. Some days Toji still struggled with sleeping in it. It was too soft, too expensive, too… kind.

It was hard to explain, but you never demanded anything of him, or asked too many questions when Toji grabbed one of the towels from the hallway cupboard and slept on the floor instead of beside you. instead, you simply let one of your hands dangle over the side so that he could grab it, or so it would brush against him every now and then, just so he knew you were there and he wasn’t back where he grew up.

He yawned loudly, enough for his jaw to ache as he stretched. There wasn’t a need to work out just as much as he used too, to the point where Toji did nothing but work out, eat and sleep. Nowadays he actually got to enjoy things, even if those things were still similar to what he liked before.

But sitting at home watching horse racing on the tv was so much better than actually being there, mainly because you were there with him most of the time. And if you weren’t home, Toji still wandered around the city, this time taking out different curses that lingered, since he didn’t want them messing with you or your customer base.

As Toji rubbed a scarred hand through his eyes, he finally forced them open. That was another thing he still wasn’t fully used too. Being allowed to feel sleepy and sluggish, to wake up slowly and just take the day as it came to him.

His hair was getting too long, was the first thought through his head as his eyes landed on himself in the full-length mirror you had in your room. You kept it there for when you put on your uniform, but you two also used it for quite a lot of other things. Toji could almost feel the phantom shape of your fingers on his plush hips, or hear your voice mumble how pretty he was against the back of his ear, as you made him bounce in your lap and watch himself.

Feeling pretty was brand new too, and something still so foreign to Toji. He couldn’t see it, even as he stood in front of the mirror and ran a hand over his soft middle and sides. Sometimes Toji jokes about how you were fattening him up to eat him. It wasn’t anything over the top, but the layer of fat on his body made him seem brighter in a way, like the light that had never been there was put inside his eyes.

Hed been extremely insecure in his own way, when Toji realized he had gained somewhat of a double chin. He had immediately wanted to stop eating anything beside the bare minimum, and place himself back on his unhealthy workout schedule.

It took a longer conversation with you for him to calm down. It wasn’t just a conversation about the human body, and how he had been living wasn’t healthy and it was just his body trying to keep up, but also about his mental state. It was clear he had hated talking about anything vulnerable, but he had felt a little lighter afterwards.

He was still strong, as strong as always if not somehow more, now that his body had all that it needed. Plus, there were a lot of powerful guys out there with some pudge, it was just extra padding, you know?

Still though, it was hard to see what you meant when you said pretty. All the scars on his body put together a horrible patchwork, showing how difficult his life had been up until now. There were still signs of the unhealthy body he had carried all his life, and Toji had a feeling it would never fully go away.

But seeing that softness on himself? It made something new brew inside him. There was a saying that people cut their hair after traumatic periods of their life, something that had never worked on Toji since his life was chaos no matter what hairstyle he carried.

Seeing the physical manifestation of your love reflected back to him through the mirror made Toji feel warm and syrupy on the inside, like the sweet, melted sugar you poured over the top of some of your strawberry pastries.

It was thick, gooey, sweet and boiling hot to the point of danger. And yeah, maybe he did think his body was hot like this, sometimes. But that was mainly because of you and not himself, because he knew it was because you wanted to love him and care for him, and because Toji knew he trusted you enough to do so.

The boiling hot of the melted sugar feeling pooled in his gut, making Toji groan sleepily to himself as he got hard very easily. This was another thing he blamed on you. whod have thought that a life of abuse and mistreatment meant you became touch starved, and how should he have known he would grow sensitive and addicted to the feeling of your hands and lips.

With a huff, Toji shuffled into the pair of slippers you had bought for him when he first moved in. “the floor gets cold” you had said, as if Toji hadn’t sleep on ice cold bloody floors for years, and as if he was bothered by the cold floors at all. but he wore them, because Toji knew they were from you, and he knew you wanted him too.

The scent of your cooking grew stronger as Toji finally stepped out of your shared bedroom, his feet carrying him down the stairs and towards the large kitchen you were toiling away in. In the beginning, Toji hadn’t been completely sure how to act in the large home you lived in.

he had grown up in a giant home, but he wasn’t allowed to see it as such. And Toji had dated people before with mansions, but that had been to get money from them. With you he actually wanted to make an effort, surprising even himself.

But over time he grew comfortable, like one of those battle worn tomcats you brought in, with the giant puffy cheeks and barely any ears left. The ones that got so comfortable and purred like an old broken car. The way Toji would drape across your lap truly made him seem like one some days, which always had you cracking a joke even if Toji acted like he hated the nickname.

You had gotten so used to your partner moving around without any noise that you only gave a small jump as Toji leaned against your back, his scarred lips pressed against the side of your neck. “Morning handsome” you hum happily, leaning back against him since you couldn’t use your hands.

Toji just grumbled a bit, still sounding so sleepy and comfortable and he rolled his hips against your ass, just to show you what kind of day it was gonna be. A short smirk pulled at your lips as you made a questioning noise, rubbing back against him to see what he had planned.

But Toji didn’t have the energy or will to do anything extreme, he just wanted to lean his chubby torso against your back, as his soft but still so powerful and deadly arms curled around your waist, and his chin rested on your shoulder.

He snapped up the piece of fruit you held up to him like the hungry tomcat you always compared him too, the kind that always ate like it was its last meal even if it was fed multiple times a day. It always saddened you a bit to think about, but seeing him munch up anything you made with such gusto at least made you smile, knowing all your efforts were appreciated.

And you had a feeling Toji wouldn’t mind too much if you got his help to add a different glazing than you had planned to the fruit you had been cutting up. It was only you two that were gonna eat it anyways, right?

[otakusheep15]

Flufftober Day 31: Proposal - Octavinelle

Characters include: Azul Ashengrotto, Jade Leech, Floyd Leech

Word count: 1677

Azul

Who proposes: you

Azul genuinely and truly does not believe he deserves you. For as much bravado he pretends to have, none of it can protect him from the fact that he is deeply in love with every part of you. And yet, he can’t help but think that you deserve better than him. 

No matter how far away he gets from his past, it will always haunt him. He’s still very insecure about his appearance and personality, and it does affect how he handles your relationship. 

Your relationship progressed very slowly. It took him months to even work up the courage to hold your hand, always afraid that you’d find him disgusting for doing such a thing. Of course, you would never, but it took him a long time to actually believe that. 

Even now, as an adult, he still has a hard time dealing with his insecurities. 

Right now, more than anything, he wants to propose to you. He wants to marry you so bad that he might go inside. But he can’t bring himself to even buy a ring, let alone propose. Every time he even thinks about going out and buying you a ring, his insecurity gets the better of him and he brushes it off. 

One day, you ask him out on a date. It’s out of the blue, and he’s rather caught off guard. He says yes, because how could he possibly say no to you? Plus, it’s been so long since you’ve been on a date. He’s always so busy with work, and so are you, so he’s excited. 

On the day of, you take him to a nice restaurant, and you pay for everything yourself. It, yet again, catches him off guard, as he’s usually the one to pay. He doesn’t mind, and he actually kind of likes being pampered for once. 

Afterwards, you take him on a nice stroll around the city, enjoying the sight of all the lights now that it’s nighttime. Azul seems so relaxed, and it makes you happy to know he’s enjoying himself. He’s been so pent up lately, so you knew this would be good for him. 

Eventually, you return home, and you have one last thing for the night. He sits down on your couch as you run to the bedroom, leaving him in anticipation. 

When you return, you kneel down in front of him, and his eyes go wide in shock. He almost doesn’t believe it at first, until you present the box in your hands, opening it up to reveal a beautiful ring. His eyes immediately well up with tears as he looks at you, asking if you’re serious. You are. 

All this time, he was working himself up, convinced you secretly hated him and would never agree to marry him. He didn’t even notice you planning anything. Normally, he would’ve noticed immediately if you were planning something this huge, but you really caught him off guard. 

It takes him a second to find his voice through the tears, but he does say yes. You put the ring on his finger and pull him into a hug, comforting him as he continues to cry. They’re happy tears, of course, but you can tell he’s embarrassed about being so emotional. 

Your wedding is a huge celebration. He has a lot of family, and they’re all so excited to celebrate with him. The big party happens under the sea since most of his family can’t turn human just for one day. However, you do have a smaller party for your land-dwelling friends as well, and it’s just as fun. Azul tries so hard not to cry, and he fails miserably. He gets so emotional, and he can barely get through his vows before he’s an absolute mess. 

Jade

Who proposes: Jade

Out of the three Octotrio, Jade has always been the one most set on getting married. He’s lowkey always been the most family oriented, and even as a kid, he was so excited at the thought of having a family of his own.

Considering how he normally is, his dream of marriage is rather innocent in comparison. It’s truly the only thing he has no ulterior motives behind. He just really wants to get married and create a family.

That idea was even more solidified when he began dating you. He knew almost immediately that you were the person he was going to marry. He also had no intention of hiding that from you. 

Jade is very open about his feelings from the get go. He sees no reason to hide them from you. If you were truly uninterested, you would tell him so. However, you were very on board, much to his pleasure.

His proposal happens the second you’re both financially, physically, and mentally stable enough in your lives. As much as he wanted to get married immediately after school, even he knew that wasn’t exactly possible. So, he waited.

And, soon enough, the day came. The perfect day to finally propose to you. He already has the ring, having picked it out forever ago when he saw it at a lovely market. He knew he had to have it for this day, and he’s been holding onto it ever since.

It’s pretty obvious that he’s planning on proposing to you. He does not even try to hide it at all. In it's own way, it’s kind of cute. He’s so excited to just get to the proposal.

Initially, he had a whole event planned out. He would take you on a nice, romantic date, ending with the grand proposal of his dreams. However, all of that goes out the door that very morning.

Jade wakes up first, and the first thing he sees is your adorable sleeping face. Your hair is a mess and you’re drooling a bit. His eyes are practically hearts as he looks at you. Without thinking he shakes you awake, being careful not to startle you too much.

As you wipe the sleep from your eyes, Jade reaches into the bedside drawer, pulling out the ring box. Right as you begin to wake up, Jade presents you with the ring, and it takes you such a long time to process what’s going on. You look between him and the box, asking him if he’s for real. He said he had a whole day planned out today, so you assumed this would come later.

He explains that he just couldn’t wait even a second more, and he had to do this now. After taking a bit more to process, you say yes, and he immediately pulls you into a tight hug. Then he slips the ring on your finger. Now, instead of a pre-proposal date, your day is a day of celebration. 

Your wedding is simple yet elegant. Jade is very detail oriented, and that really shows here. It’s not a very big event, but there’s still plenty of guests. It’s a fun day, and this might be the most genuinely happy you’ve seen Jade in a while. He’s just so happy to be married to you.

Floyd

Who proposed: Floyd

Floyd is pretty well-known for being spontaneous. Almost everything he does is for the sake of entertainment, and he needs constant stimulation in order to feel something. 

At first, this included your relationship. He initially asked you out on a whim, assuming you’d be a fun fling. As time went on, he went from seeing you as a slightly amusing plaything to actually enjoying your company. You went from a mere fling to his actual partner. 

At first, this kind of scared Floyd. Besides Azul and Jade, he’s never let anyone get this close to him. It was strange letting you in like this. He didn’t plan on you, but now that he has you, he wants to keep you forever.

The idea of marriage was never for Floyd. He found it a weird, somewhat boring concept that wouldn’t be all that entertaining. Being tied down sounded like such a drag to him. That was until you of course. Now, marriage is all he can think about. 

As with everything else, it’s spontaneous when he buys the ring. He was walking by a store and saw the most darling ring, and he knew right away that it was meant for you. Despite what many think, Floyd certainly has an eye for fashion, especially when it comes to shiny gems. He took one look at this ring and had to buy it.

After purchasing the ring, he practically runs home, barreling down the door and startling you away from whatever you were doing previously. 

When you look at him, you see a happy, slightly deranged Floyd as he bounds up to you like a giant puppy. If you were anyone else, this would be a terrifying sight, but you are you, so this is absolutely adorable. You can tell he’s in a good mood.

He reaches you and immediately kneels down, wasting absolutely no time in pulling out the ring. You sit there, wide-eyed with shock, not even sure how to react. This was very unexpected.

Floyd looks at you expectedly, as if you were supposed to know this was going to happen. It takes you a second to find your voice, but when you do, it comes out in a whisper. Still, your yes is heard by Floyd, and that’s enough for him to pull you into a tight squeeze, placing the ring on your finger. 

He lifts you and spins you around, littering your face with kisses. You haven’t seen him so genuinely happy in years, and you absolutely love it.

Your wedding is basically just a giant party. Everyone you know is invited, and Floyd makes sure to make it as wild as he’s allowed. Some people would consider it too much, but you consider it uniquely Floyd, and you adore it. However, you do make sure he doesn’t go too far into party mode. It is still your wedding after all.

[strwberri-milk]

Hellooo 🎀 I love love love reading ur works they bring me so much joy 💕 I was wondering if u could do the boy’s reaction to an mc whom loves to collect trinkets that remind her of them? I read your rules and didn’t see anything against this, but if it is I’m so sorry <3 (sorry for the terrible language, English isn’t my main language!)

thank you for reading the rules!! and this is so me

Zayne doesn't expect you to dump out a small bag of your things on the bed when you come home from your trip. He knew that you said you were picking up souvenirs but this amount of them surprises him a little.

When you tell him that these are all the things that you picked up he gets confused. Sure he'd asked if you could grab a thing or two while on your trip if you saw them but he wasn't asking for anything like what you ended up showing him. You laugh it off, telling him that you'd already put away the stuff he asked for.

When you finally tell him that this was all stuff you bought for him he's incredibly flattered. He doesn't show it blatantly on his face but you can tell he likes the things you picked out with the way he handles them so delicately. He finds space for them in his office - both at work and at home - as a reminder of your love for him.

Xavier didn't realise how many things you'd collected for him until he runs out of room to put down the newest trinket you got him. He stares at them all, asking you why you keep bringing him things.

You end up shyly admitting that every time you see something that reminds you of him you can't help but pick it up to add to his collection. They all have some sort of theme and he has to admit that you've always grabbed things that he ends up liking.

He tries to do the same for you but sometimes it doesn't quite work out the way he intended. Sometimes you have no idea why he's giving you what he is but he justifies it by saying he thought of you, then saw it so it works. You don't mind though - you know he's genuinely trying.

Rafayel does the same thing! The two of you have your own little cabinet displays of trinkets the two of you pick up for each other. Each thing has their own story and much to Rafayel's credit, he does somehow manage to remember all of them without too much issue.

Unbeknownst to you though he does actually remember everything he keeps a physical record. He's got a notebook (one of many) dedicated to you where he draws the trinket in question and writes a note with where and how he found it, as well as why it reminds him of you.

He treats everything you give him as though it's the most precious thing known to man because to him, it really is. Everything you give him is something he loves because it made you think of him. He wants to occupy your every thought and having these physical tokens soothes his soul.

Sylus returns your trinkets with three more that he finds for you. It's almost like a competition - one you'll sorely lose because he's got way more connections than you do. Regardless, he'll still take everything you give him happily and without hesitation, thanking you for thinking of him.

You just happen to occupy a lot of his mind so it's also very easy for him to find trinkets for you. Now you two just end up doing show and tell with the objects you find for each other. He tends to shower you in gifts though so this is definitely right up his alley, even if it's not done quite in the same manner.

[cat9901234]

Meet cutes NYC

In which during the Miami race, a certain power couple gets interviewed and finally reveal the details of how they met.

warnings: none.

childhoodsweetheart! reader x lewis hamilton

“Excuse me, sorry are you two a couple?” the man walks up to them, catching Lewis and especially his wife by surprise.

“We are,” Lewis smiles proudly

“Could you guys please tell me the story of how the two of you met?”

Lewis’ face instantly lights up and y/n laughs at her husband's reaction, not remembering the last time she had been asked that. “That’s a long story-, oh my god wait I think I've seen you guys on uh Insta right?"

"Yes, we go around mainly New York to ask couples how they met," the interviewer informs. “We’ve got time,” Lewis shrugs, “as long you're alright with it?” He looks at his wife knowing well y/n was always the private one about her personal life.

“Is it for your channel or something?” y/n asks politely, still a little hesitant about the idea.

“We go around all over New york but also around the world asking couples how they’ve met,” he shows them their instagram page. Y/n's eyes widen at the large following count and is satisfied about their legitimacy. 

“Sure why not, but again it’s a long story,” she laughs leaning her head on her husband’s shoulder. “Do you want to start us off?”

“We met when we were eight, I believe y/n was new to the area at the time. Anyways, I actually was on the playground by myself, didn’t have any friends at the time but this one comes along and walks up to me and compliments me because she saw me in a newspaper. We were at the time one of the very few coloured people in our school. We then became inseparable and very close with my family. She even used to look after my brother when I was away during races.”

“Almost every holiday break I would come down and watch him race, that's actually how I met Susie and Seb and Nico,” Y/n adds. 

“She used to always buy me these chocolates from the news agency for my birthday each year and we would split it, at the time because I was putting all my money into racing. But anyways, when we were fifteen, I asked her out to become my girlfriend, I was also racing more but like we would always write letters and email to contact each other. I would always get her to fly over and spend time with me during holiday breaks so we could spend more time together, hang out. When we graduated actually, I asked her to marry me,” he bashfully said, rubbing the back of his neck as his wife blushed at the memory and covered her face with her hand.

“Really?” the interviewer exclaims.

“Yeah,” Lewis nods, “you know like I didn’t want to be apart from her. She you know was—, is my everything. She believed in me when no one else wouldn’t.” 

“So what happened?”

“Well you know at the time we were so young and both so ambitious in our own rights. I think what was going through my head at the time was that we had so much to discover about ourselves and definitely at that age the relationship with the media and Lewis’ career on the rise wouldn't have worked. Also, the fact that I wanted to do so many things as well for myself would have held Lewis back, and I knew deep within me that I would have been selfish for that," Y/n continues. "You know he means so much to young kids of colour, to fans of formula one, etc and that was that. So you know we talked about it, cried and yelled about it but in the end it was very mutual and we both understood. So we broke it off—”

“Sorry, but I remember her saying you know after all the crying and yelling that I was gonna date around actresses and models, marry a model slash actress and stuff. But I remember clear as day I said to her that I wasn’t going to marry anyone if wasn’t her; and she thought I was joking—”

“Well I mean hello he was what seventeen/eighteen at the time. Also what he said was just a coincidence,” y/n cuts in.

“Nuh. Nuh, I didn’t realise it till after I married you,” he teased. Y/n rolls her eyes at his cheesiness that has the interviewer smiling from cheek to cheek.

“Anyways, long story short, we met through Nicholas, Lewis' brother. He was in Uganda helping out a charity I helped organise with a friend where we were building a school. From memory he posted about us to get some views for donating,” Y/n summed it up.

“The moment I saw it I immediately asked Nico for her contacts because I just wanted to meet her. We were in contact for about a month before I invited her to a race, we then immediately hit it off like and we dated for a year then got married.”

“Wow,” the person breathed, “so you’ve known each other since you were eight. What would you say is your favourite thing about each other?”

Y/n chuckles as Lewis can’t help but laugh at her too. 

“I think for me,” Y/n starts, “is how giving he is and how much attention he pays. Like you know even back when we were kids he would always try to get me small things like for example when I visited him in 2003 he gave me this necklace here actually,” she shows off the simple pearl pendant necklace, “because I mentioned once that I really liked pearls because from memory were talking about gemstones. But like even now he’s just so thoughtful and stuff.”

“For me it’s her kindness, and she’s always looked past first appearances cause like for me personally I was never anyone’s first choice. Whether that was games or-, or on the playground—, she chose me first and that meant so much. You know, even with my brother, she didn’t think much of it, she was never embarrassed about being seen with him, playing with him and making sure he feels included like that’s when I knew I was in love with her,” Lewis explained.

“Well, thank you guys so much!"

"no worries man, take care."