#as usual if i get too embarrassed this is getting deleted

[flebus]

okkk this is my lamby my lambchop my special boy. his name is Ark (short for Archangel) (nobody calls him that) he thinks he's the digital messiah. he got kicked out of his influencer friendgroup for getting turbo canceled & he's six months in on a psychotic break about it. he's running a custom built OS that is so bogged down with incomprehensible cosmetic UI graphics it's hard to look at. he's on sheep HRT. he sucks really bad. i like him.

[loderlied]

sharing some thoughts about deactivating here because it’s been difficult pondering idk.

[sureuncertainty]

oh okay so we're like completely fucked

[idlyx]

actually how did i manage to leave my phone at work

[holytrickster]

lately the whole chronic migraine thing for me is like "good luck getting in to see someone before next year.IDIOT. good luck finding a medication that actually works for you you IDIOT. good luck even getting it covered depending what it is. IDIOOOTTT. im really over spending the summer in bed man..it feels so embarrassing having to be like "yeah I'm not even in so much pain lately it's just the fact that it's literally every day and it's the nausea and the brain fog". at least I'm not in the er again

[quickestgold]

Okay but LISTENNNNN. Reader and Jack having feelings for eachother but he pulls back (she’s still new , too young , etc) he’s been cold and she decided to take that day off work and go to Pitt Fest and …oh no…. (Still lives but it’s BAD)

Strip Her: Dr. Jack Abbot x Reader

Synopsis: Amidst a mass casualty event, Jack’s medical instincts clash with his personal life when the woman he loves risks her own life to save another. Is he about to watch you die?

Warnings: Canon-typical depictions of trauma/gun violence, mass shooting, GSWs, blood; Reader basically does what Santos did, but in the field hah! > No "good girl" energy from Jack, just anger for putting yourself in danger lol

Word count: 2k+

A/n: Thanks so much for sending this in, so sorry it's taken so long!! Lmk what you think!! ♡

This is not exactly in our mass casualty plan.

Blood is for the ones we can save.

Ten other patients will die if you put all of your energy into saving this girl.

Jack’s own words haunt him, playing through his mind on a torturous loop.

He looks at Robby, pleading for something. Then back at you, watching you fight for your life.

"Hi, handsome."

"Wanna come over after your shift?"

Read.

You huff out a humorless laugh. The old man really left you on Read.

You know Jack isn't a big texter, making the age-gap between you hilariously obvious. But today it gets to you.

Jack isn't your immediate superior, but you wonder if this is why he's been acting cold. More than usual.

The ER staff love to talk. Of course they do. But neither Jack nor you care about that. You’ve made it clear there’s an undeniable connection between you.

So, you’ve acted on it.

The last couple of months have been bliss, an unspoken understanding of exclusivity.

But now, Jack's been distant. Swapping shifts, avoiding working with you.

Was it something you did?

You've already double texted him today, wishing him a good shift and letting him know that Robby's asked you to 'babysit'.

How embarrassing. But you draft another.

"Heading to Pitt Fest now, will be up for some fun when you get home... ;)"

You delete the last part. God. Don't show your age!

"Heading to Pitt Fest now, see you soon."

You hit send.

Code Triage. Emergency Department Now.

The mass casualty event is in full swing. Patients come and go. Green. Yellow. Pink. Red. Black and White.

It's a haze of coordinated chaos.

Jack keeps trying to reach you in-between treating patients, leaving you countless voicemails.

Of course he would.

"Hey, Y/N. It's Jack. Call or text me the second you get this message, okay?" His voice trembles. "She's not picking up."

"I can't reach Jake either." Robby mutters.

"I'm sure they're ok." Dana offers gently.

Time slips away, minutes turning into hours. Their shift was supposed to end a while ago, but they've stopped keeping track.

"I'm going to check on triage." Robby announces, stepping out to help Shen and Ellis assess incoming patients. "No pulse. Black and white. Pink zone. Strong pulse. Unresponsive. No obvious GSW. Red zone GSW left chest."

A familiar voice cuts through the noise. "She was talking when we first got into the truck. T- There was so much blood."

"Jake!" Robby's at his side in a flash.

"Robby! Leah got shot. It's really bad...", Jake cries out.

Robby is at a loss for words, his medical instincts fighting the fatherly ones in a gruesome match.

"I've been putting pressure on the wound the whole time", Jake stutters.

"That's good. You're good", Robby reassures him, more for himself than Jake.

The team rushes Leah into the ER. Jake follows closely behind. "You can't stay with her. There's no room and we need to work on Leah right now", Robby says firmly, getting to work immediately.

Jack spots them and hurries over, panic rising in his chest.

"Where’s Y/N?" he asks, voice tight.

"I- I don’t know," Jake mutters. "She stopped Leah’s bleeding, then went back in."

"What do you mean?" Jack growls, trying to keep his voice calm.

Robby looks up, taking in Jake's words. The lines on his forehead growing deeper.

"People were screaming. The shots were so loud. She- She went back to see if others needed help." Jake's eyes well up, before he is wheeled off to get treated.

Of course you would put someone else's safety over your own.

Others might see it as noble, but Robby and Jack think it's reckless.

They exchange a look, knowing there's nothing they can do to reach you. To make sure you're okay.

Jack is called to another patient, while Robby proceeds to work on Leah.

Despite their best efforts, it's not enough.

Minutes pass. Jack watches Robby closely, his desperation becoming more evident by the second. Dana gives Jack a knowing look, recognizing the only person who can reach Robby right now is him.

Jack steps closer, glasses off, his voice gentle.

"The bullet tore through her heart", he says softly, giving Robby time to process.

"Anyone else with a wound like this is pronounced dead in the field. You can't keep up with the blood loss. If she was our only patient, we'd do a thoracotamy, maybe ECMO. But even then, I doubt we'd get her back." Jack's words hang heavy in the air, but he continues.

"We're gonna lose ten other patients if you put all your efforts into saving this girl." Jack doesn't let it show, but it pains him to see Robby hurting like this.

Robby does one final pulse check. But Leah's heart is no longer beating, the realization shattering his own.

"Okay, we're done", Robby whispers, breaking.

"We stopped at 19:47", Dana declares. "Move her to Pedes?", she asks gently.

Robby just nods.

"You want me to go with you to talk to Jake?"

He shakes his head. "No. No, thanks. I got it."

But another gurney is wheeled in. Robby notices first.

"Jesus Christ", he mutters. "What's going on?"

"Female. 30s. GSW to the right inguinal region. Retroperitoneal bleed", Dr. Mohan declares. But there's someone else kneeling at the end of the gurney, holding the patient's leg up. Robby and Jack's eyes widen, when they meet yours.

"The bullet must have tracked north and hit the external illiac", you state nonchalantly, ignoring the stunned looks from your colleagues.

It was supposed to be your day off.

"Dr. Y/LN did a REBOA in the field to stop the bleeding", Samira continues.

"You did what?!" Robby gasps, incredulous but unable to hide his pride.

Jack is by your side in an instant. "Are you shitting me?"

"Hello to you too, Dr. Abbot", you smile weakly, still focused on the patient’s wound.

Another time, your smile would’ve lit a spark. Not now.

Jack's anger is palpable.

You’ve seen it before, his cold, stone-faced demeanor, always one existential crisis away from breaking. But never directed at you.

"Are you hurt?" Jack’s voice is dangerously low.

He's scared.

Robby and Jack scan your blood-soaked clothing. You quickly dismiss their concern.

"Uncontrollable bleeding from a pelvic artery, no other options. I blew up a balloon in the aorta to stop the bleed. Going in a few inches, zone three, below the kidney. I just needed to hit the femoral artery."

You hesitate, but go for it anyway.

"Piece of cake", you grin, weaker than usual, but you hope they don't notice. They do.

"Radial's stronger." Mel confirms.

Robby and Jack both notice your uneven breathing but chalk it up to the stress and trauma you've experienced.

"Also, GSW to the chest, left hypochondriac region. Probable internal bleeding", you continue.

"No. That's not true-", Samira objects.

You direct everyone's attention to your own chest, your breathing becoming erratic.

"What?!" Jack's voice cracks, disbelief, shock and fear hitting him all at once.

You feel like you can hear your own heartbeat, the ER growing eerily quiet at your confession.

"Okay. Let go of her leg", Robby orders in an intimidating tone.

"Gurney!" Jack barks.

"I need to lock the balloon first." You stare directly into Jack's eyes, knowing he won't budge. You turn to your friend and mentor, pleading.

"Robby." He knows you're right.

"Do it." Robby nods, ordering Whittaker to check the wound once you're done.

"BP's 110, by palp", Donnie announces.

Jack remains frozen, his mind racing a million miles a minute.

"The balloon can stay up for an hour max. Get IR and Vascular on the case." Robby directs, before drawing everyone's attention back to you.

Your patient is stable.

You've done what you can.

But the blood loss is catching up with you.

"I- I think it's a through-and-through. My back hurts like hell and my legs feel funny." Jack snaps out of his trance, his training kicking in.

Robby lifts your top, shocked at the severity of the injury. Jack shuts his eyes, unable to stomach the sight.

It must be bad.

But it doesn't hurt too much.

Not a great sign.

"Okay. Stabilize her", Robby orders, multiple hands are on you immediately, steadying you. Grabbing the base of your neck, your shoulders and hips, securing you in place.

You're still sat on the gurney, but have now let go of the patient's leg.

"Strip her", Jack commands, voice low and firm, eyes dark and unreadable.

You try to lighten the mood. "Gee, buy me dinner first, won't you?"

A few giggles from the team, but Jack's lips are tightly pressed together in a fine line, facing downwards.

Dana cuts through your top, leaving only your bra. Unusual. But you're relieved to not flash your coworkers. You'd rather like to maintain the mysterious vibe you've got going on.

"Cowards", you tease. More chuckles, but worry growing on everyone's faces.

You whisper to Jack, "I'm sorry."

He doesn't respond. Can't look at you. Instead he orders a chest tube and a unit of blood.

A sharp gasp rips through you, the weight on your chest suddenly making it hard to breathe. "Fuck, that hurts." Any last traces of playfulness vanish, replaced by something else.

Fear.

Jack realizes he has to save his anger for later. "Hey. It's okay", a slight smile now tugging at his lips. "I've seen you worse", but the vulnerability in his voice betrays him.

Shit. It must be really bad. He's cracking jokes now?

Your anxiety spikes.

Is Jack about to watch you die?

You shiver at the thought. Or maybe it's the blood loss. Probably both.

Your vision blurs. Your thoughts get foggy.

"J-Jack?" You're not sure he hears you. Or anybody really. Did the words even come out?

Your eyes flutter shut. There are no more thoughts.

Only darkness.

Robby orders Jack to step back, the roles tragically reversed.

This is not exactly in our mass casualty plan.

Blood is for the ones we can save.

Ten other patients will die if you put all of your energy into saving this girl.

Jack’s own words haunt him, playing through his mind on a torturous loop.

He has been distant with you. But not because of your age, or your careers.

No, it's because letting you in means risking losing you and he knows he can't survive that kind of pain. He’s seen too much death, too much loss. And loving you only makes that fear stronger.

He looks at Robby, pleading for something. Then back at you, watching you fight for your life.

"I know." Robby is laser-focused, but shudders at the thought of Jack up on that roof again.

Painfully aware of the inevitable cost of losing you.

They won't. They can't.

Monitors and machines beep in a faint rhythm.

You wake, eyes heavy. A familiar figure is propped up in the armchair beside your bed.

He looks like shit.

Jack's wearing the same bloodstained scrubs, dark circles beneath his eyes, hair dishevelled. On second thought... it's a look.

"Hi, handsome", you whisper, unsure if it’s the relief of being alive, the pain meds or just seeing Jack, but a wave of comfort floods you.

He leans in, eyes wide with tenderness.

"Hi, beautiful."

His gaze radiates a warmth that kept you alive, even when your skin grew cold.

"How are you feeling?" His voice is soft. So unbelievably soft. The anger has subsided, but you know there’s a conversation you’ll have another day.

He takes your hand in his, squeezing it gently.

"Peachy", you exhale, giving him a warm and genuine smile. He returns it, his shoulders relaxing more with every steady breath you take.

You hesitate, but finally go for it. "So, about you leaving me on Read." Your smile turns into a familiar smirk. "You know only old people leave voicemails, right?"

Jack's breath catches in his throat, caught off guard. He chokes out a strangled laugh.

"You're unbelievable", he says, before leaning down, his lips brushing gently over yours.

The grip this man has on me I swear... Also, I'm still in shock from ep13 and I fear it's only getting worse... Jack being so rational about letting Leah go was So Painful, so writing this was very cathartic. Pls comment/share your thoughts below. ♡

[rafeovermorals]

YOUR OLD NEIGHBOR JOEL who becomes your personal handyman.. always fixing things around the house for you. something broken? you bring it to him and he’ll take care of it.

he teased you at first. “no boyfriend to do this?” he questioned in his usual nonchalant, grumpy tone.. but when you replied that you were single, you saw his lips tug into a smirk.

after a while you didn’t have to ask anymore. joel came over on his own accord just to find things to repair, it made him feel useful that way.

he warmed up to you over time. “it’s no problem, darlin’. not like i got much else to do these days.” you always offered him a cup of coffee as a thank you, which he accepted.

you would help him too. he was skilled with his hands, but electronics were a different story. when he finally upgraded from his flip phone, he didn’t have a clue in the world on what to do with it. “not my generation.” he grumbled, clearly struggling to figure it out.

he was too embarrassed to ask. “let me do it for you, old man.” you teased with a giggle, snatching the device from him. you got everything ready to go— going the extra mile to downloaded tinder and offering to set up a profile for him.. even though he swore he’d never use it.

you added your number to joel’s contacts. it was the only number, actually. he texted like a dad, responding to your texts with a flat “sure.” or “no.” until you taught him what emojis were, then he sometimes used the thumbs up or a heart.

he gave in one day, deciding to try out the dating apps. his profile was simple— classic joel. nothing really special about it.. except that all of the pictures he had were taken by you.

he scrolled through, pressing ‘x’ on each women that was prompted to him. he was ready to delete it all together.. but a familiar face popped up. you.

your profile was unlike anything he’d seen from the others. you stood out from the rest, of course you did. he swiped back and forth between your pictures.. his cock stirring in his pants at the sight of one with you in a bikini. you were alluring, a seductive smile that was bound to attract endless messages.

he felt dirty for staring too long. it was wrong, yet he couldn’t get himself to look away. why were you on there, anyway? a pretty girl like you had no business searching for love on this app full of perverted, lonely men like himself. even if so.. why would it show your account to him when he’s three times your age? he knew for a fact that the user had choice in what range they were interested in— you told him that.

the thought stuck with him. those flirty remarks, sneaking glances, and lingering touches clicked in his mind. before he could regret it, he pressed the ‘✓’ beside your name with a hold of his breath.

YOU HAVE A MATCH!

quick drabble because this picture posted today sent me into an old handyman!joel spiral. i’ve seen a few neighbor/fixer upper fics, but i want to link inspo to this one as it is one of my favorite reads on here!

[mugglebornmarvelite]

Teddy Bear Bucky

Paring: Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Avenger! Fem! Reader (Grumpy x Sunshine)

Summary: For once, the usually tense and stoic soldier is completely at ease, making for an amusing sight when someone finds you asleep on Bucky's chest.

Word Count: Roughly 1.3k

Warnings: Fluff, death threats (playful), roughhousing, chaos, chasing, and brief mentioning of Bucky's past if you squint.

Part 1: Sunshine in His Shadows

P.S. It can be read as a stand-alone, but if you want to know how it led up to this point, part 1 is above :)

Navigation

Divider by: @strangergraphics

The morning sun poured through the compound windows, its warm rays spilling across the living room, casting a soft glow in the room. You were nestled soundly on top of Bucky, curled into him like he was your personal, oversized teddy bear. His head rested against the back of the couch, one arm protectively wrapped around you. For once, he wasn’t tense or scowling; he was completely relaxed, a rare sight for someone so used to being on edge for years.

And if you squinted, there was a faint smile on his face.

Steve walked past the living room but came to an abrupt halt at the sight. His eyes widened, and he rubbed them as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Then, a grin spread across his face. A shit-eating grin at that.

"Oh, this is gold," he whispered to himself, eyes lighting up with the realization of what he had to do. With a quiet chuckle, he darted off, eager to recruit to show others.

A few minutes later, Steve returned, followed by Natasha and Sam. Natasha glanced at the scene, then raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smirk curling at the corners of her mouth. Sam, however, wasn’t wasting any time. He pulled out his phone with a wicked grin, his camera aimed at the precious moment unfolding in front of him.

“This is too good to pass up,” Sam murmured, crouching low to get the perfect angle. “Grumpy Barnes being used as a human pillow? For his sunshine no less? This is legendary.”

Natasha sipped her coffee with a knowing smirk. “He’s totally going to kill you for this, right?”

“Yeah, well,” Sam grinned, swiping through his phone. “I’ll send out the picture before he forces me to delete it. The old man doesn’t understand technology.” His fingers tapped out a message to Wanda, who’d probably get a good laugh out of it.

The sound of a camera shutter clicked softly, but just as Sam thought he was in the clear, Bucky stirred beneath you. His brow furrowed slightly, and for a split second, everything seemed still. Then, the faint creak of a floorboard sent Bucky’s instincts into overdrive. His eyes shot open, scanning the room like a hawk, before landing on the source of his irritation: Sam, his phone raised triumphantly, with Steve and Natasha struggling to hold back laughter in the background.

Before Bucky could fully react, you shifted against him with a groggy groan. You blinked your eyes open, still half-asleep, and found yourself looking up at him in confusion. 

“Bucky? What-?” 

It only took a moment for the embarrassing realization to hit. You had somehow fallen asleep on top of him, completely unaware. Your face flushed as your eyes widened, and you started to apologize, but before you could even say a word, Bucky gently but swiftly lifted you off him, placing you back on the couch. 

He stood, as though trying to shake off any evidence of what had just happened, then grabbed a blanket nearby and tucked it around your shoulders, making sure you were comfortable and warm.

“Stay warm, sunshine,” he muttered under his breath, his voice rough but strangely tender.

Sam, unable to contain himself, burst out laughing. “Oh, man, I’m framing this one. You look like a giant grizzly bear trying to babysit a kitten.”

Bucky’s eyes darkened with a glare so intense, it could’ve burned a hole through Sam. His voice was low and dangerous. “Delete it. Now.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! I didn’t do anything! Steve told me!” Sam raised his hands in mock surrender, but his grin was impossible to hide.

Bucky’s focus shifted to Steve, who was pretending to be innocent. “Hey, don’t blame me! I had to tell someone what I saw. Kill him, not me.”

“See you, sucker!” Sam snickered, bolting for the door, phone clutched in his hand tightly.

“Hey, wait!” Steve scrambled after him, grinning as he caught up with Sam.

Bucky didn’t waste a second. With a growl, he chased after them, his heavy footsteps pounding like thunder in the compound. Steve was laughing as he ran, shouting, “Don’t let him catch me!”

“I’m gonna make you both regret that,” Bucky roared, his voice deep and fierce as he quickened his pace.

Still nestled in the blanket, you rubbed your eyes, trying to shake the sleep from your system. The chaos unfolding in front of you was enough to make you frown sleepily. 

“What...what is happening?” you mumbled, looking up at Natasha, who was still watching the scene unfold, an amused look on her face.

She leaned down to gently smooth your hair, offering you a warm cup of coffee. “Just another day in paradise. You fell asleep on Bucky, and now he’s off hunting down Sam for taking pictures. Steve opened his mouth and pretty much condemned himself. Typical.”

You buried your face in the blanket, your cheeks burning crimson. “I fell asleep on Bucky?”

Natasha smirked knowingly. “Oh, yeah. And he didn’t even complain. He stayed perfectly still for you. It was actually kind of adorable.”

The flush on your face deepened, and you peeked out from the blanket. “I can’t believe this.”

Natasha sipped her coffee, smirking at you one last time. “I’m going to see if Wanda got the picture.” With that, she made her way out of the room, leaving you alone to process the madness.

Meanwhile, down the hall, Sam and Steve were running for their lives. Sam glanced over his shoulder, still laughing, though his breath came in short bursts. “You can’t kill us both, Barnes!”

“Try me,” Bucky growled, a wicked grin playing at the corners of his mouth as he closed in on them.

Steve, managing to duck into a nearby room, slammed the door behind him. Sam, realizing he was alone and defenseless, let out a panicked yell. “Traitor!”

Bucky didn’t hesitate. He grabbed Sam by the back of his shirt with a single motion, yanking him to a stop. “Gotcha, birdbrain.”

“Wait! Wait!” Sam held up his phone, waving it frantically. “I’ll delete it! I swear!”

Bucky snatched the phone from Sam’s hand, eyes narrowed with irritation. He quickly checked the screen, making sure the photo was gone. Satisfied, he shoved the phone back into Sam’s chest with a low growl. “If I see that picture anywhere, you’re dead.”

Sam held up his hands, clearly not wanting to push it any further. “Message received, Sergeant Teddy Bear.” He backed away with a half-grin, hands still raised in surrender.

Bucky shot him one last glare before walking back toward the living room, shaking his head at the chaos. By the time he returned, you had sat up on the couch, still wrapped in the blanket, your face a mix of sleepiness and embarrassment. 

“Did you really stay still all night just so I wouldn’t wake up?” you asked softly, your shy smile tugging at his heart.

Bucky’s expression softened just the slightest. He shrugged, trying to hide the warmth he felt spreading through him. “Didn’t want to ruin your sleep, sunshine.”

A small, genuine smile spread across your face as you stood up and wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug. “Thank you, Bucky.”

He froze for a split second, caught off guard by the sudden affection. Then, slowly, his arms came around you, pulling you into a hug of his own. His voice was gruff as he mumbled, “Yeah, yeah.”

For a moment, everything was still. The harshness that usually clung to him was nowhere to be found, replaced by something softer, warmer, and something he wasn’t ready to fully acknowledge yet.

For now, he’d take all of the teasing, even if it meant chasing down Sam and Steve every day. Because if it meant getting to see that sunshine smile of yours, it was all worth it.

Every single time.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed!

Tags: @princess-lil-spidey @sapphirebarnes @mgchaser @sparklystarsandstrawberries @arcadia-smith @rnurse-kole @juliebluehufflepuff

If you'd like to be added to my taglist

Much love x

- Maeve

[astrow1zar6]

Astrology Observations- 50

Jupiter in the 8th house can be a really hard placement to have in the natal chart. Whatever Jupiter touches it expands so when in the 8th house that rules death, sex, rebirth, transformation ect all these are major components of your life. Could have a really intense life and go thru a lot of struggle young. I see a lot of people with this placement experience death at a very young age. Your blessings however come when you push through those dark and you come out so much stronger. Extremely emotional intelligent.

Venus in Scorpio is a common placement to see in exotic dancers

Scorpio risings I notice rarely delete photos on social media or in general. They are usually the people that keep up photos for years. Even if they have pictures with people they don’t interact with anymore (such as an ex). Very hard for these people to let go of the past.

Aquarius’s suns will either come off as one of the friendliest easygoing people you ever met or really stand offish and mean mugged.. no in between

Underdeveloped Virgo moons tend to pick on people a lot. They can try to highlight your insecurities on purpose. If not evolved they can have big mean girl energy.

The people I meet that I see usually have really long healthy relationships are Taurus suns and Cancer suns. (Especially when together!)

Gemini mars people are super impulsive. They require a lot of mental stimulation so the riskier the more exciting for them usually.

A lot of Gemini moons get famous for just recording themselves talking. A lot of influencers have a Gemini moon. You usually have a lot of things to say and are amazing at keeping up conversations which makes you very entertaining to listen to/watch. They communicate best when they just allow themselves to talk spontaneously without planning out what to say.

An Unevolved Pisces Mars is genuinely so scary! They can be so good at emotional manipulation. They are skilled in making others blame themselves for their mistakes. Big mastermind energy.

Pisces Mars I notice also really hate confrontation. They have a harder time speaking/standing up for themselves a lot. I feel like these people are the least likely to start/be in a physical altercation out of all the mars signs.

Mars in Aries/1st house people tend to be naturally toned/ athletic looking. Even if they don’t really work out that much they always look super cut for no reason.

Cancer and Sagittarius placements tend to put on weight very easily

Capricorn risings/Venus could’ve been told to eat more or that they look starved. A lot of people with this placement I notice tend to be very petite/boney naturally. The types that can eat all day and not gain a pound.

Pisces Venus men are either fairytale like romantic or they are extremely bare minimum and romantically clueless.

Aqua Venus’s hate people who are too clingy too soon. They will ghost you so fast. If you want to attract them just act nonchalant they won’t admit it by they are really into people who don’t express much interest.

Sag Venus’s are very experimental in love the types to try throuple or be swingers. I also notice the men are more into 🍒 than 🍑

I’ve seen a lot of Aqua moons be big in the closet gays (my experience not all Aqua moons ofc)

Taurus mars/venus take a really long time to decide if they want a relationship with you they will put it off for so long until they are completely sure. This can be extremely annoying to more fast paced types. They tend to wait too long to the point they miss their opportunity to be with the person they really wanna be with:( but once they become sure they’re in it for the longest haul. Will be the most loyal partner.

Scorpio moons are very easily embarrassed especially when it comes to how they feel. They tend to take things very personally due to their sensitivity which is why most choose not to open up.

Unevolved Libra moons are the type to sleep with their best friend’s boyfriend or try to flirt with them. (Example ; Alabama Barker)

Uranus in the 5th house natives have such a quirky sense of humor. They tend to usually be hilarious and have people cracking up. The most random shit comes out of their mouths. You never know what they’re going to say 😂

Virgo risings hate being late to things. The types to come 10 minutes early to work. They also tend to get anxious when their environment is a mess I notice.

A lot of Lilith in Pisces men tend to have a foot fetish. Lilith ruling kinks & Pisces ruling the feet. They also tend to like fat on a woman or like their women to be more plump and curvy over petite.

Libra placements have a big emphasis on their teeth/smile. Could have big teeth that stand out or an amazing smile.

Gemini placements tend to be amazing singers and have good pitch naturally (especially if you have a lot of second house placements).

Sorry for being MIA for awhile had to take some time to myself to deal with my mental health but I’m going to continue posting more since I’ve been feeling a lot better🫶🏽🥹🩵

[nekonaps0]

TWST Boys Take Care of Their Drunk Girlfriend pt3

✦par1 part2

✦characters: second years +Cater Diamond, Trey Clover, Rook Hunt, Lilia Vanrouge 

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie gets serious real fast. He’s seen what bad nights can look like back in his hometown, so he keeps it together no matter how bad you’re wobbling.

“Whoa there, sweetheart. Slow down. You’re not about to faceplant on my watch.”

He’s surprisingly efficient: ties your hair back, gets you water and some bread as well. Checks your temperature with the back of his hand. He’ll still tease you a little, because it helps you relax.

“You’re kinda cute when you slur your words, not gonna lie. But let’s get you lying down before you try to tango with the stairs.”

Even if you’re clingy or emotional, he holds you close, rubbing your back and whispering comforting little things like:

“Hey… I gotcha. You’re safe. I’m not going anywhere.”

Jade Leech

Jade handles it like a calm, doting nurse, but with that eerie composure that makes you wonder just how used to this he is.

“My, my. What a rare sight, my beloved intoxicated. I shall treasure this moment… but first, let’s get you hydrated, yes?”

He carries you with ease, sets you down somewhere comfortable, and brings a glass of water with a wedge of lemon, “to balance your blood sugar” (you’re too drunk to question it). He hums softly as he removes your shoes and tucks you in, like he’s enjoying every second.

“Shh. No need to speak… Just rest. I’ll watch over you.���

And he will. With a very affectionate, slightly creepy smile.

Floyd Leech

Floyd’s reactions depend entirely on his mood, but when you’re drunk and vulnerable, he becomes startlingly gentle.

“Aww, Shrimpy’s all wobbly… That won’t do. Gotta keep you safe, huh?”

He’ll scoop you up in one arm, carry you around while muttering about how cute and helpless you look, and won’t let anyone near you. If you’re emotional or woozy, he calms down quick.

“Don’t cry, don’t cry. I’m here, yeah? Your amazing boyfriend gotcha. Squeeze if it hurts.”

He hums in your ear and wraps you up like a burrito in a blanket, arms around you the whole time.

Jamil Viper

Jamil is equal parts frustrated and deeply worried. He masks it with a sigh, but he's 100% locked in “caretaker mode.”

“You didn’t check how many glass you drink, did you? Ha… Sit down. No arguments.”

He’s quiet, firm, and incredibly gentle. Getting you water, medicine, cool towels, and even food to soak up the alcohol. But he can’t hide the way his fingers linger on your cheek, how he watches you with that faint frown of concern.

“You’re allowed to lean on me, y’know. I don’t mind when it’s you.”

Once you’re calm and safe, he sits by your side, tugs a blanket over you, and whispers so quietly you almost miss it:

“You scared me, idiot.”

Trey Clover

Trey is the dad boyfriend in every sense. Calm, composed, gentle, and absurdly competent.

“Easy, love. Sit down before you fall down.”

He guides you to a chair, brings you water with ice, wipes your face gently, and even bakes you something mild to settle your stomach. He talks you through.

“It’s alright. I’ve got you. You’re safe, I promise.”

If you’re emotional, he’ll stroke your hair and hum softly until you relax. Once you’re dozing off, he lingers nearby, watching over you with a small smile.

“I’ll be right here when you wake up, okay?”

Cater Diamond

Cater panics internally, but outside he’s trying to play it cool. He gets more serious than usual especially if you’re stumbling or crying.

“Whoa, babe… okay, deep breaths, okay? Just look at me… there we go. Focus on my voice.”

He'll take a hundred selfies to distract you, but deletes them all after, realizing you might be embarrassed later. He brings water, makes you laugh, and gets you tucked into bed with soft lights and soothing music.

“You good now, cutie? I’ll stay ‘til you crash.”

He’ll brush your hair aside and kiss your forehead.

Rook Hunt

Rook finds you breathtakingly poetic in your intoxicated state. That said, he takes care of you like a devoted knight.

“My dear, your skin glows with the blush of wine… but let us preserve your radiance, non?”

He sweeps you into his arms and sets you down with the tenderness of a courtly lover. He brings you warm tea, holds your hand as you sip, and fans you with a velvet handkerchief.

“I shall not sleep while you suffer, ma chérie. Your beauty, even in disarray, is divine.”

His care is sincere, if a bit dramatic. You fall asleep to the soft sound of his French lullabies and poetic whispers.

Silver

Silver’s instinct is protection above all. The moment he notices you wobble, he’s at your side in seconds.

“Careful. I’ve got you. Let me help.”

He holds you close, arms steady and warm, guiding you somewhere quiet where he can watch over you. He brings you a blanket, makes you lie down, and kneels by your side, holding your hand while you drift off.

“Even when you’re vulnerable, you’re strong. I admire that… and I’ll stay with you until you feel better again.”

He hums softly, brushing your hair with such care it brings tears to your eyes.

Lilia Vanrouge

Lilia is playful at first, teasing you about your drunk state until he sees even a hint of discomfort, then switches into protective boyfriend mode in a heartbeat.

“Oh dear, you’re wobbling like a baby bat. C’mere, darling, let Lilia fix you up.”

He brews a strange but effective herbal tea, and holds you while you sip it, rocking you gently. He cradles your face, soft and fond.

“You’re in good hands. Rest now, my sweet. I’ll guard your dreams.”

Even in chaos, he makes you feel entirely, completely safe.

..............................................................................................................................

[psformybss]

i have a request for actress!reader and drew reading thirst tweets!

maybe drew is all shy and blushing, while reader is like YES!!!!! about it

it's fine if you're uncomfy with this request 🩷

thank you so much 🫶🏻

Thirsty, Flustered, and Buzzfeed Approved

drew starkey x actress!reader

an: this was so fun to write. i think the tweets could have been better but i think it still ended up being pretty chaotic just like usual lol

warnings: suggestive content, chaotic energy, twitter thirst, drew blushing, reader thriving

“Is there a safe word for this?” Drew mutters as the red tweet cards are dropped into your lap.

You flash him a mischievous grin. “Not unless it’s ‘retweet.’”

He huffs out a nervous laugh and rubs a hand down his thigh — his tell. You know he’s already blushing and you haven’t even read the first one.

You angle yourself toward the camera like this is your Oscars moment. “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

“And I’m Drew,” he says warily, glancing at the stack like it might bite.

“And today,” you continue, gesturing grandly at the chaos you’re about to unleash, “we’re reading thirst tweets. Because apparently, people on the internet think my boyfriend is made of sex and sadness.”

He chokes immediately. “What?!”

You arch a brow. “Tell me I’m wrong. You get cast as one broody guy and suddenly it’s, ‘Fold me like laundry, Drew.’”

He blinks at the camera like he’s searching for divine help. “I didn’t ask for this.”

You grin. “Neither did the internet. But here we are.”

You pluck the top tweet off the pile and read it with dramatic flair.

“Drew Starkey could fold me like a lawn chair and I’d say thank you, sir.”

You pause. Blink once. Then slowly fan yourself with the card. “We’re off to a strong start.”

Drew recoils like the words physically hit him. “Oh my God—why does everyone want to be inanimate objects around me?!”

You pat his thigh. “Don’t kink shame, baby. Maybe they just want to be handled with care and stored seasonally.”

His face drops into his hands. “Please delete me from the internet.”

“Too late. You belong to the Twitter girlies now.”

Still giggling, you reach for the next one.

“Y/N could read me a bedtime story and I’d still wake up sweating. She’s got that ‘ruin your REM cycle’ energy.”

Drew snorts. “You do. Like a really hot fever dream.”

You shoot him a grin. “So I’m both the nightmare and the fantasy?”

He looks right into the lens and says, deadpan, “She terrifies me.”

You smile sweetly. “And yet, you’re in love with me.”

He makes a show of sighing as he picks the next one.

“Drew Starkey’s voice could get me pregnant. Just one ‘hey’ and I’d be in my third trimester.”

Drew groans like he’s in physical pain. “Why are they so bold?!”

You lean into the mic. “To the author of this tweet: Drew says ‘hey.’ Please let us know your due date. We’ll start a registry.”

He looks at you, appalled. “You are not helping.”

“Oh, I’m not here to help. I’m here to narrate your descent into flustered chaos.”

He glares, but there’s no real heat — mostly because you’re absolutely thriving. He grabs another one with a dramatic sigh.

“If Y/N told me to sit, I’d ask which position.”

Drew wheezes.

You hold up a finger. “No thoughts. Just obedience.”

He eyes you like you’ve grown horns. “So this is what chaos feels like.”

“You’re welcome.”

He’s still chuckling when he reads the next one.

“Drew could wear a garbage bag and I’d still risk it all. Man has ‘take me against the wall during a thunderstorm’ energy.”

You throw your head back and cackle. “Who hurt you, babe?!”

Drew is pink, laughing helplessly. “This is a spiritual journey.”

You nod solemnly. “Buzzfeed Thirst Tweets: where therapy and horniness hold hands.”

You snatch the next one from the pile like it personally offended you.

“Y/N’s mouth is a sin and I would like to confess mine to her.”

You arch a brow and turn to Drew. “Be honest. Was this one you?”

He splutters. “WHAT?! No!”

You smirk. “Would’ve been a great opener.”

His ears go beet red. “I’m honored. Deeply. Also embarrassed.”

He plucks the next card, eyes widening.

“Drew Starkey has the kind of face that makes me wanna ruin the friendship, the lease, and the entire tax bracket.”

You point. “SEE? Not even financially safe. You’re a hazard.”

He nods gravely. “I’m a liability.”

You tilt your head, grinning. “You’re hot. Same thing.”

You pick another.

“Y/N could say my name once and I’d forget my own mother’s birthday.”

You nod thoughtfully. “That’s fair.”

He glances at you. “You agree kinda fast.”

You smile. “What can I say? My name sounds good when you say it.”

His eyes drop to your mouth, lingering for just a beat too long.

You blink. “Sir—?”

He clears his throat, grabbing the next tweet like it’s life support.

“Drew Starkey looks like he’d pin you against the kitchen counter and still ask if you want oat milk or almond afterward.”

You clutch your chest. “Chef’s kiss. Domestic AND filthy.”

He shrugs. “I mean, options are important.”

You stare at him. “You’re… a little too comfortable with that one.”

He just grins. “I like breakfast.”

You gasp. “Sir.”

You swipe another card.

“Y/N has the aura of a woman who would sit on your lap, tell you she’s mad, and still look hot doing it.”

Drew nearly falls off the couch laughing. “Yeah, actually. That checks out.”

You glance at the camera. “I’ve never done that. More than twice.”

You both turn to the camera, flushed and full of chaotic joy.

“Thank you for watching Buzzfeed Celeb,” you say, raising the last card like a toast.

“Please stay hydrated. And maybe go outside,” Drew adds.

“And maybe stop giving us ideas.”

“Or don’t,” Drew says, smirking. “I’m kind of into it.”

You eye him playfully. “I knew you wrote one of these.”

He shrugs with zero shame. “Guilty.”

You lean in, just enough to make him swallow. “See you in the kitchen later?”

He flashes a grin. “Oat milk or almond?”

You wink. “Surprise me.”

[throttleheart]

⸻ ⸻ ⸻

Tumblr Dot Com

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff. Crack treated seriously

Warnings: 18+, fluff, secondhand embarrassment, teasing, implied smut if you squint, lando being a menace & insufferable, unresolved tension, suggestive comments, mutual pining, Y/N fighting for her life, suggestive content, makeout session, mutual pining, nsfw, they like each other so much get a room

Word Count: ~7.7k

Summary: the one where y/n runs a Tumblr account about Lando and posts fics about him, cue to chaos

tried my hand at writing something that's not in third person

Masterlist

⸻ ⸻ ⸻

You should’ve closed your laptop.

You should’ve closed your laptop.

It was a simple action. One you always did when Lando came over. Because no one—not a single soul—could ever find out about your Tumblr account.

But apparently, the universe had other plans.

Lando was in your kitchen, rummaging through your fridge like he owned the place, while you were curled up on the couch, scrolling through your phone. It was supposed to be a chill night—just movies, snacks, and him being annoying as usual.

And then you heard it.

“Wait.”

You looked up, confused. Lando was frozen, standing behind your desk, your very open laptop in front of him.

Your very open Tumblr dashboard in front of him.

With a very specific post displayed at the top.

A post about him.

Your stomach dropped. “Lando.”

He didn’t answer. Just stared at the screen, his eyebrows raising higher by the second.

Then, slowly—so painfully slowly—he turned to face you, a shit-eating grin already forming.

“What. Is. This?”

Your soul left your body.

“Nothing,” you blurted out, scrambling off the couch. “Close it. Right now.”

But he didn’t close it. Of course he didn’t.

Instead, he scrolled.

“Oh my God—Lando, STOP.” You lunged for your laptop, but he dodged, laughing as he held it out of reach.

“‘His hands gripped my waist, possessive, desperate—’” He snorted, eyes flicking over the words. “Jesus, is this about me?”

You wanted to die. Right there. On the spot. Instant cardiac arrest.

“Shut up, shut up, shut UP.” You tried to grab it again, but he was too quick, spinning away, now fully invested in your blog.

“‘Lando Norris was dangerous in the kind of way that ruined you for anyone else—’” He whistled, eyes wide. “Wow. You really think I’m that good, huh?”

You groaned, face burning. “I swear to GOD, if you don’t stop—”

But he just grinned, scrolling further.

“Oh, look! A fic! Let’s see what I’ve been up to.”

You panicked. “LAN—”

And then he started reading out loud.

“‘His breath was hot against my neck, sending shivers down my spine as he whispered—’”

“I’M DELETING THE BLOG.”

“‘Tell me who you belong to, baby.’”

“I’M BLOCKING MY OWN ACCOUNT.”

Lando lost it, doubling over in laughter, your laptop now clutched to his chest like it was his most prized possession.

“Oh, this is amazing. This is the best day of my life.”

You buried your face in your hands, wishing the earth would just swallow you whole. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

You peeked through your fingers, glowering. “Yes, I do.”

He just smirked, finally setting your laptop down—but not before saving your blog link to his phone.

“Oh, you are NEVER living this down.”

You groaned again, flopping onto the couch, officially defeated.

Lando chuckled, moving to sit beside you, his arm draping over your shoulders. “So… do I actually whisper filthy things in your ear, or was that just for the fic?”

You whacked him with a pillow.

“I’m never speaking to you again.”

Lando snorted, leaning back against the couch, completely unfazed. “Oh, come on. You’re being dramatic.”

You glared at him, crossing your arms. “Dramatic? You just found out I run a Tumblr fan account dedicated to you. Do you understand how mortifying that is?”

“Oh, trust me, I do.” He grinned, stretching his legs out. “Because I’ve read your work. And I gotta say, I’m impressed.”

Your entire body burned with embarrassment. “I hate you.”

He clicked his tongue, smirking. “You already said that. But according to your fics, you also ‘crave me in ways words could never fully describe.’”

“I’M DEACTIVATING.”

Lando laughed, full and genuine, his stupid dimples making an appearance.

“Seriously, though. How long have you had it?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. There was no getting out of this. “A couple of years. Since before we even met.”

His eyebrows shot up. “So, you were obsessed with me before I even knew you existed? Damn, that’s kinda hot.”

“I’m begging you to shut up.”

Lando ignored you, his mind already working overtime. “Wait—does that mean you’ve written fics about me and other girls?”

You froze.

His eyes widened. “OH MY GOD, YOU HAVE.”

“IT WAS BEFORE I KNEW YOU.”

“SO YOU SHIPPED ME WITH OTHER PEOPLE?!”

You grabbed a pillow and threw it at his face. “STOP MAKING THIS WORSE.”

He caught it easily, grinning like an absolute menace. “Wow. Betrayal. And here I thought I was your favorite.”

You groaned, covering your face again. “This is literally the worst night of my life.”

Lando chuckled, shifting closer until his leg was pressed against yours. “Nah, this is great. Best night, actually.”

You peeked at him through your fingers. “You are insufferable.”

“And you’re adorable when you’re embarrassed.”

You huffed, looking away. He was too close now, his familiar scent—cologne, a little sweat, a hint of something sweet—messing with your head.

Lando must’ve noticed, because his voice dropped, lower, smoother. “So… which one’s your favorite?”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

He smirked, fingertips tracing random patterns on your thigh. “Which fic? Out of all the ones you wrote about me. Which one do you like the most?”

Your mouth went dry.

Because you knew exactly which one it was.

And it was not PG-13.

“Oh my God. You’re thinking of one right now.”

Lando’s voice was pure amusement, but there was something else underneath it too—something teasing, something dark, something undeniably smug.

You swallowed hard, trying to play it cool. “No, I’m not.”

“You so are.” His fingers brushed over your knee, barely there, but enough to make you shiver.

“Lando.”

He hummed, tilting his head. “You wrote about it.” His fingers slid a little higher. “Wanna recreate it?”

Your breath hitched.

His smirk widened.

“That’s what I thought.”

“I hate you.”

Lando grinned, cocky and completely unaffected. “You keep saying that, but I’m starting to think you mean something else.”

Your jaw clenched, doing your best to ignore the way his fingers were still casually resting against your leg, warm and so distracting. You weren’t going to let him win this.

Not after he found your Tumblr. Not after he read your fics.

Not after he figured out exactly how much you wanted him.

“You are never letting this go, are you?” You muttered, refusing to look at him.

Lando leaned in, voice low and infuriatingly smug. “Oh, absolutely not.”

Your entire face burned. “You’re the worst.”

“Yeah?” His fingers traced small circles against your thigh, barely there but enough to make your breath hitch. “Then why are you still letting me touch you?”

You snapped your legs shut, shoving his hand away like you weren’t seconds away from losing your mind. “Because I haven’t kicked you out yet. But don’t test me.”

Lando laughed, throwing his head back. “God, you’re cute when you’re defensive.”

“I am not defensive!”

“Mhm. Sure.” He stretched, acting like this was the most casual conversation ever, like he wasn’t slowly destroying you from the inside out. “So… about that fic.”

You groaned, dropping your head back against the couch. “Lando.”

“What? I’m just curious.” He nudged you with his elbow. “Come on. Which one’s your favorite? The one where I take you in the backseat of a McLaren? Or the one where you call me ‘Sir’ and—”

“I’M BLOCKING YOU.”

Lando cackled, absolutely thriving off your suffering. “Oh, babe, it’s too late for that. You should’ve blocked me before I found your blog. Now I know everything.”

You whined, grabbing a pillow and burying your face in it. Maybe if you ignored him long enough, he’d magically disappear.

But, of course, Lando never made things that easy.

His voice dropped, teasing but also… something else. Something thicker, heavier. “You know… we could make it real.”

Your breath caught.

Slowly, you peeked out from behind the pillow, heart hammering. “What?”

He tilted his head, watching you like he was memorizing every little reaction. “If you want. If you think your writing is accurate, we could… test it out. See if I really do all the things you imagined.”

Oh.

Oh.

Your brain short-circuited.

“You’re messing with me.”

Lando shrugged, eyes still locked on yours. “Maybe. Or maybe I just wanna know what’s got you writing about me late at night.”

Your throat went dry. “You’re insufferable.”

“Yeah, but you love it.” His smirk deepened. “And, apparently, you love me.”

You hated that he was right.

You hated that your entire body was betraying you, your pulse racing, your breath uneven.

Most of all, you hated that you were actually considering it.

Because the way he was looking at you now—dark eyes, lazy smirk, confidence dripping from every inch of him—made it really, really hard to say no.

“So, what’s it gonna be, babe?” Lando murmured, fingers grazing your wrist, slow and deliberate.

Your heart pounded.

You knew exactly where this was going.

And you didn’t want to stop it.

Not even a little bit.

“Fuck it,” you whispered, grabbing him by the collar.

And then you closed the gap.

Lando barely had a second to react before your lips crashed into his, the force of it knocking the smirk right off his face.

But he recovered fast—his hands instantly sliding around your waist, pulling you in like this was exactly what he’d been waiting for.

And maybe he had.

The kiss was hot, messy, desperate, all the teasing from earlier boiling over into something neither of you could control anymore. You could feel him smiling against your lips, like he was so damn pleased with himself for pushing you this far.

So you bit his lip.

Lando groaned, hands tightening on your hips. “Fuck, okay. That’s how we’re playing?”

“Shut up.” You kissed him again, hands threading through his stupidly soft curls, tugging just hard enough to make him swear under his breath.

He exhaled a sharp laugh, pulling you fully into his lap like he had zero patience left. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

You just smirked, nails dragging lightly against the back of his neck. “And you talk too much.”

Lando opened his mouth to say something—probably another cocky remark—but you cut him off with another kiss, grinding down just enough to make his breath hitch.

His fingers dug into your thighs, grip tightening. “Jesus, babe. You tryna kill me?”

“Just proving a point.”

Lando licked his lips, watching you like you were his next win on the track. “Yeah? And what point is that?”

You leaned in, lips brushing against his ear. “That I could write something even better after this.”

His reaction was instant—a low curse, a sharp breath, his hands gripping you harder like he was fighting the urge to just flip you over and take control.

And that’s when you realized.

Lando loved the chase. Loved being the one teasing, the one making you squirm. But now? Now he was the one losing his mind, the one stuck between wanting to keep up the game and completely unraveling beneath you.

And it was delicious.

You smirked, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to his jaw. “Speechless, Norris? That’s a first.”

Lando exhaled sharply, his hands skimming under your shirt, warm and all-consuming. “Oh, babe. You have no idea what you just started.”

You tilted your head. “Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?”

His grip tightened, his smile turning dangerous.

“Guess you’ll have to find out.”

Lando’s eyes were dark, pupils blown wide as he looked at you like you were his next race, his next win—something he had to conquer, own, ruin in the best way possible.

And maybe you would’ve let him.

If you weren’t having so much fun watching him lose his mind.

You smirked, running your fingers down his chest slowly, feeling the way his muscles tensed under your touch. “What’s wrong, Norris? Cat got your tongue?”

His jaw ticked, hands flexing on your hips. “Careful, babe. You keep talking like that, and I’m gonna have to shut you up myself.”

“Oh?” You tilted your head, fingers dipping under the hem of his shirt. “That supposed to scare me?”

Lando let out a low laugh, but it sounded strained, like he was fighting every single instinct telling him to take control.

“Not scared, huh?” He leaned in, breath hot against your lips. “Even if I do… this?”

Before you could respond, his hands squeezed your thighs, dragging you closer until there was nothing between you.

You let out a shaky breath, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you completely fall apart. Not yet.

Instead, you smiled sweetly, tracing your fingers down his arm. “That all you got, Norris? Thought you were supposed to be a world-class driver.”

Lando’s eyes flashed, and you knew you’d just made a huge mistake.

Because now? He was done playing.

“Oh, you’re gonna regret that.” His voice was low, dangerous, like the calm before a storm.

And you?

You were so fucked.

“Oh, you’re gonna regret that.”

Lando’s voice was low, the kind that sent a shiver down your spine. His fingers flexed on your hips, holding you therelike he wasn’t planning on letting you go anytime soon.

And the look in his eyes?

Yeah, you were so done for.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your cool. “Big words, Norris. But I’m still waiting.”

Lando huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “You just love pushing your luck, don’t you?”

You smirked, tilting your head slightly. “Maybe.”

His grip on you tightened, and for a second, you thought he was actually going to give in—going to kiss you, ruin you, wipe that smug look off your face with his lips.

But then?

He did something much worse.

Lando leaned in, lips barely brushing your ear, voice low and smug as hell when he whispered,

“I read the smut, you know.”

Your entire body locked up.

“…You what?”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Oh yeah. I read all of it.”

Your stomach dropped.

“Every single detail.” His fingers traced small circles on your waist. “All those filthy little thoughts in that pretty head of yours. Want me to list some of my favorites?”

Oh. Oh no. Oh fuck.

Your face burned, heart racing way too fast. “Lando—”

“What was it you wrote the other day?” He pretended to think, tapping his fingers against your hip. “Oh, right. ‘Lando looks like he’d be the type to ruin you against the nearest surface and then act all innocent about it.’”

Your soul left your body.

“That was a joke, obviously,” you blurted out, your voice way too high-pitched to be convincing.

Lando just grinned, eyes gleaming. “Mmm, was it? Because it sounded like you spent a lot of time thinking about it.”

You wanted to die.

You shoved at his chest, face on fire. “Oh my god, shut up.”

Lando laughed, the sound bright and teasing, like he was having the time of his life watching you absolutely crumble in front of him.

“What else did you say? Oh—‘I bet he’d love taking his time, dragging it out until I’m begging’—”

“LANDO.”

He was cackling now, gripping your wrist when you tried to flee. “Aw, babe, don’t be shy. I think it’s cute.”

You glared at him, trying (and failing) to regain even a shred of dignity. “You’re the worst.”

Lando just smirked, leaning in again. “If I’m the worst, why’d you write an entire fantasy about me?”

You hated how your breath hitched, how your pulse raced, how he was way too close and way too cocky about it.

“That was fiction,” you muttered, even though your body was betraying you with every second that passed.

Lando tilted his head, lips barely inches from yours. “So if I kissed you right now, it wouldn’t be like what you wrote?”

Your breath caught.

His fingers brushed against your jaw, thumb grazing your lips, teasing.

“Wouldn’t feel that good?” His voice was softer now, but the intensity in his eyes? Burning.

You hated him.

You wanted him.

And he knew it.

You swallowed hard, fingers gripping his hoodie. “Why don’t you find out?”

Lando’s smirk dropped.

For the first time since this whole thing started, you had him right where you wanted him.

And you weren’t backing down.

Not this time.

Lando’s smirk faltered.

For the first time all night, you had him exactly where you wanted him.

And the way his fingers tensed against your skin? How his lips parted, breath just a little uneven?

Yeah. He knew it too.

His gaze flickered to your lips. Once. Twice.

You almost dared him to do it.

Almost.

But Lando Norris was nothing if not stubborn, and you should’ve known he wouldn’t make this easy.

Instead, he did what he always did.

He made you wait.

“You want me to find out?” His voice was low, teasing. Deadly.

Your pulse spiked, fingers tightening on his hoodie. “Are you always this annoying?”

Lando grinned, tilting his head. “Only for you.”

Before you could snap back, he moved.

Slowly. Deliberately.

His hand slid from your waist, up your side, over your ribs, until his thumb brushed the edge of your jaw. His fingers curled under your chin, tilting your face up, holding you there like he had all the time in the world.

You swallowed.

Hard.

Because this was different.

This wasn’t him teasing you for fun. This wasn’t him trying to get under your skin just to see you flustered.

This was something else entirely.

Something dangerous.

You could feel it in the way his thumb traced soft circles against your cheek, in the way his chest rose and fell just a little too quickly.

And when he spoke again?

It was barely above a whisper.

“Tell me if you don’t want this.”

Your breath hitched.

Lando’s forehead pressed against yours, his nose grazing yours, and fuck— this was so much worse than just kissing you outright.

Because now you could feel everything. The way his fingers tightened slightly, like he was holding back. The way his lips were just barely there, almost taunting you.

“I—” Your voice caught, because, holy shit, he wasn’t playing anymore.

His thumb traced your bottom lip, slow. Precise.

“Last chance, love,” he murmured.

You exhaled shakily, the tension thick enough to drown in.

And then?

Then you did the only thing you could.

You closed the gap.

Finally.

Lando swore softly against your lips, like he wasn’t expecting you to actually go through with it.

Like he had just lost some kind of game.

But the second he recovered?

He took control.

His hands moved to your waist, gripping tight as he pulled you flush against him. His lips moved against yours with that stupid mix of confidence and recklessness, like he had been waiting for this moment forever.

And honestly?

Maybe you had too.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan into the kiss. And fuck, you wanted to memorize that sound, wanted to hear it again and again and—

Lando suddenly flipped you, pressing you into the couch, half on top of you now, grinning against your mouth.

“So, I was right.”

You blinked up at him, still breathless, still so lost in him that it took a second for his words to register.

“…What?”

Lando smirked, but his voice was soft, almost too soft when he whispered,

“I really can ruin you against the nearest surface.”

Your stomach flipped.

And that was when you knew—

You were so completely screwed.

Lando was still hovering over you, smirk barely there, but his eyes?

His eyes told a different story.

Because he was wrecked.

Just as much as you were.

Maybe more.

But he was still being Lando. Still being the cocky little shit who knew exactly what he was doing to you.

So when he spoke next?

It was deadly.

“You’re staring.”

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his hoodie. “No, I’m not.”

Lando laughed, but it came out rough, like he was feeling every bit of this too.

“You’re literally looking at my mouth right now.”

Your gaze snapped up immediately. “Am not.”

“Liar.”

“Asshole.”

Lando grinned, but then his expression shifted, the teasing slipping into something quieter.

Something dangerous.

His fingers brushed along your jaw, so gentle it made you ache. Like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch you like this. Like he was memorizing you.

You swallowed hard. “Lando…”

He hummed, but he didn’t pull away.

Didn’t stop looking at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

And fuck— It was too much.

“Say it.” His voice was low, rough, like he was barely holding on.

Your breath caught.

“Say what?”

Lando’s lips hovered over yours, so fucking close that you felt his breath, but he didn’t close the gap.

Didn’t kiss you.

Not yet.

“Say you want me.”

Your heart stuttered, because— Fuck.

This wasn’t a joke. This wasn’t teasing.

This was real.

And it was so much worse because he didn’t say it like a challenge. He didn’t say it like he was certain you already did.

He said it like he needed to hear it.

Like he needed you to say it first.

Your throat felt tight, chest aching, because it was always supposed to be a game with Lando.

Always a push and pull.

But suddenly— It wasn’t.

Suddenly, it felt like this moment was everything.

And maybe that scared you more than anything.

But you still said it.

Still let it slip past your lips, quiet and shaky but unmistakably true.

“I want you.”

Lando’s breath hitched.

And then?

Then he kissed you.

Really kissed you.

Not the way he had before— Not playful or teasing or just for the sake of winning.

This was different.

This was slow, needy, like he was pouring every unspoken thing between you into the way his lips moved against yours.

Like he had been waiting for this moment forever.

And maybe he had.

Maybe you had too.

His fingers tangled in your hair, deepening the kiss, pulling you closer, closer, closer like he couldn’t get enough.

And fuck, neither could you.

Because you had kissed him before, but it had never felt like this.

Like he meant it.

Like you did.

Like neither of you were running anymore.

Lando’s lips were still on yours, but now?

Now, it wasn’t desperate.

Now, it was soft.

Like he was savoring it.

Like he was memorizing every second.

And maybe you were too.

Your fingers slipped beneath the fabric of his hoodie, feeling the warmth of his skin, the steady rise and fall of his chest.

Lando exhaled, a quiet sound against your lips before he pulled back, just enough to look at you.

His forehead pressed against yours, breath still uneven, eyes still dark.

And then he smiled.

Not cocky. Not teasing.

Just soft.

Just Lando.

“I should’ve done that a long time ago.”

Your heart skipped, but you still managed to breathe out, “Yeah, no shit.”

Lando laughed, and fuck— The sound made your chest feel lighter than it had in days.

“I mean it.” His voice was gentle now, his fingers brushing down your arm. “You really didn’t know, did you?”

You bit your lip. “Know what?”

His thumb traced lazy circles along your wrist, gaze flickering over your face like he was deciding whether to say it.

Then, finally—

“That I’m fucking crazy about you.”

Your stomach dropped.

Because— What the fuck?

Your lips parted, but the words got stuck in your throat, and Lando?

Lando just smirked.

Like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

But then his expression softened again, and suddenly, it wasn’t just teasing anymore.

Suddenly, it was real.

And it terrified you.

Because he meant it. Because Lando Norris meant it.

And you?

You were so gone for him it wasn’t even funny.

So you swallowed the fear down and just let yourself have this.

For once.

You leaned in, fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie, voice barely above a whisper—

“Yeah, well… I’m kinda crazy about you too.”

Lando’s eyes lit up, and before you could blink, he was kissing you again.

Slower this time.

Sweeter.

Like he wanted to make sure you believed him.

And maybe— Maybe for the first time—

You did.

Lando kissed you deeper this time.

Not teasing. Not hesitant.

Just wanting.

And fuck, you felt it everywhere.

His hands slid down your waist, fingers gripping like he was scared to let go. Like if he did, you’d slip away again.

Your back hit the couch, the weight of him pressing into you, his hoodie bunched up where your hands had fisted into it.

“Is this okay?” His voice was low, lips brushing against yours.

You nodded, but that wasn’t enough for him.

“Need to hear you say it, love.”

God.

Your stomach flipped, the way his voice dropped, the way his hands stayed gentle even when everything else about him was wrecking you.

“Yes, Lando.”

That was all he needed.

He groaned, pressing his lips back to yours, his fingers slipping beneath your hoodie, tracing hot lines over your bare skin.

Your breath hitched when his lips moved, traveling down your jaw, kissing, nipping, teasing until he reached that sweet spot at the base of your neck.

You whimpered, and he smirked against your skin.

“That’s new, huh?”

Your face burned, but you still rolled your eyes, pushing at his chest.

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

And so you did.

You pulled him back down, fingers threading through his curls, tugging just hard enough to hear that little groan that made your thighs squeeze together.

Lando noticed.

Oh, he definitely noticed.

“You like that?” he murmured, voice all gravel and honey.

You refused to answer, refused to give him that satisfaction, but then his fingers trailed lower, his knee nudging between your thighs and—

“Lando—”

Yeah. You were gone.

And he knew it.

His lips found yours again, hotter this time, hungrier, like he was making up for every second he hadn’t done this before.

Like he was making up for all the time wasted.

And fuck, you let him.

You let him take his time, let his hands explore, let his lips ruin you.

Because he was yours now.

And you?

You were his.

Lando’s lips were everywhere—soft, urgent, like he was memorizing you, like he was making up for all the times he hadn’t done this before.

Like he wanted to make sure he’d never forget how you felt beneath him.

His fingers slipped beneath your hoodie, the tips grazing up your sides, teasing, not quite touching where you needed him.

You gasped against his lips, your nails digging into his shoulders, needing something to hold on to because he was ruining you, and you weren’t sure if you’d ever recover.

Lando chuckled, his voice deep and husky, completely wrecked.

“You’re squirming, love.”

“Shut up.”

He hummed, his fingers tracing circles on your hips. “But you love it, don’t you?”

You opened your mouth to protest, but then he shifted, his knee pressing just right, and whatever you were going to say died on your tongue.

Lando grinned, completely and utterly smug. “That’s what I thought.”

You huffed, trying to glare at him, but your body betrayed you, your hands slipping into his curls, tugging just enoughto earn that deep, guttural groan that made your stomach flip.

God.

You could listen to that sound forever.

His lips found your neck again, suckling lightly, sending shivers down your spine. “Gonna write about this on your blog, sweetheart?”

You froze.

And then promptly smacked his arm.

“Lando!”

He laughed, the vibrations tickling against your skin, but when you tried to move away, he didn’t let you go.

Instead, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest, lips brushing your temple as his fingers slid beneath your hoodie to rest on bare, warm skin.

The shift in mood was sudden, but not unwelcome.

You felt him exhale, felt the softening in his touch.

“You okay?” he murmured, voice quieter now.

You nodded, breath still shaky, and he tilted your chin up, making you look at him.

“You sure?”

Your heart clenched.

Because for all his teasing, for all the smugness and the cocky grins, this was Lando too.

Gentle. Attentive. Yours.

You smiled, leaning up to kiss him softly. “Yeah. I’m good.”

He hummed, tucking you into his arms, his fingers tracing lazy patterns over your back.

Silence settled between you, but it wasn’t awkward. It was comfortable, warm, safe.

After a few minutes, he chuckled. “Still gonna keep that blog up, or should I expect a rebrand?”

You groaned, burying your face in his chest. “Oh my god, stop.”

Lando laughed, pressing a kiss to your forehead, and you melted, because, yeah—maybe you had written about him ruining you.

But you never expected him to put you back together too.

Lando’s hands tightened on your waist, his fingers pressing into your skin just enough to make you shiver.

“You hit me, love. That’s not very nice.”

You rolled your eyes, fully aware of the way he was still pinning you down, his body heat seeping into every inch of you.

“Maybe if you stopped talking—”

Your breath hitched as Lando dipped his head, his lips trailing lower, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your jaw, your neck, your collarbone.

God.

Your hands fisted in his hoodie, trying to ground yourself, but he was everywhere—hot and solid and deliberate.

“I like when you get all flustered, you know that?” he murmured against your skin.

Your only response was a sharp inhale, your fingers tugging at the fabric of his hoodie, wanting it gone.

Lando chuckled, low and wrecked, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin below your ear.

“Impatient.”

You huffed, trying to push him off, but he just grabbed your wrists, pinning them to the couch, his weight pressing firmly against you.

“Lando.”

His name came out breathless, more like a plea than a warning, and his eyes darkened instantly.

“Say it again.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the heat in his gaze, the way his pupils had blown wide, his usual bright blue eyes now stormy and intense.

“Lando.”

This time, you barely got the word out before he kissed you again, deeper, hungrier, like he was claiming you.

Like he didn’t just want you in this moment— he wanted every single part of you.

Your hoodie was pushed up, his hands finally roaming freely, his palms warm against your bare skin, mapping out every inch of you like he never wanted to forget.

Your head tilted back, your legs tightening around his waist, and Lando just smirked, dragging his lips lower, lower, lower—

And then—

A loud ping echoed through the room.

Lando froze.

You froze.

His head dropped against your chest with a groan. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Your phone.

A notification.

And, judging by the guilty look on your face, Lando already knew.

He lifted his head, narrowing his eyes, lips glistening and smug as he looked at you.

“Is that another Tumblr update?”

Your entire body burned.

You grabbed a pillow, smacking him in the face before scrambling off the couch.

“I hate you.”

Lando just laughed, completely unbothered, his arms snaking around your waist before you could escape.

“No, you don’t.”

And, to your absolute horror, he reached for your phone, grinning devilishly as he scrolled through your notifications.

“Oh, love—look at that. Another comment asking for a spicy update. Should I help you with some inspiration?”

You shrieked, grabbing your phone back, shoving him playfully away as he just grinned at you like a menace.

And even as you glared at him, breath still uneven, body still buzzing, you knew one thing for certain���

You’d never, ever run out of things to write about.

Lando was still grinning, still so smug, still looking at you like he had all the time in the world to ruin you completely.

And, god, you wanted to let him.

You shoved your phone under a pillow, crossing your arms over your chest. “You’re the worst.”

Lando tilted his head, eyes dragging over you, from your flushed cheeks to your hoodie, which was still bunched upfrom where his hands had been.

And then—he smirked. The smirk. The one that made you weak every single time.

“Am I?” He took one slow step forward.

Your breath hitched.

“You sure about that?” Another step.

You should back up.

You should run.

But you didn’t.

Lando just watched you, his voice dropping lower, rougher. “Because I think, sweetheart, you actually like it.”

Your entire body felt like it was on fire.

You opened your mouth to argue, but he was already there, closing the space between you, his hands gripping your hips, tugging you against him.

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

You couldn’t.

Because he wasn’t.

You were absolutely, completely, utterly gone for him.

Lando chuckled, pressing a slow, teasing kiss just below your ear, his fingers tugging at the hem of your hoodie.

“Take this off.”

You froze, your heart slamming into your ribs.

He must’ve felt your hesitation because he pulled back slightly, eyes softer now, searching yours.

“Only if you want to, baby.”

Baby.

You nearly melted right there.

You swallowed, gripping his hoodie instead, tugging him closer. “I want to.”

Lando exhaled slowly, like he was holding himself back, his hands sliding up beneath the fabric, his fingers tracing fire along your skin.

“Then let me.”

He tugged it over your head in one smooth motion, and then—

His eyes.

Dark. Hungry. Completely locked onto you.

“Fuck.”

Your stomach tightened, heat rushing through you because he wasn’t just looking—he was memorizing you.

Like you were something he never wanted to forget.

And then, he was on you again, his hands gripping your waist, his lips crashing against yours, deeper, more desperate.

Like he was making up for lost time.

You barely registered being backed up against the couch before Lando’s hands were everywhere, sliding down your thighs, your hips, his fingers pressing, teasing, taking his time.

Your breath hitched as his lips trailed lower, down your jaw, your collarbone, the slope of your shoulder.

“Lando.”

He groaned against your skin. “Say it again.”

You did. Over and over again.

And when he finally pulled back, his lips swollen, his curls a mess, his hands still gripping your thighs like he couldn’t bear to let go—

He grinned, panting, eyes still blown wide with heat.

“Gonna write about that, too?”

You laughed, smacking his chest before pulling him back in.

Because, yeah—maybe you would.

But for now?

You had way better things to do.

Lando was everywhere.

His hands, his lips, his body pressed against yours, like he was claiming you, like he was making sure you’d never think about anyone else the way you thought about him.

Like he was making up for every single fic you’d ever written about him— and proving he could be so much better.

His breath was hot against your skin, his hands slipping under the waistband of your shorts, fingers trailing lower, lower—

“Lando—”

He groaned, the sound gravelly, desperate, like he was just as wrecked as you were.

“Say my name like that again, and I swear—” His voice was low, dark, full of something that made your knees weak.

You trembled, clutching at his hoodie. “Lando.”

He growled. Actually growled.

And then—

Your back hit the couch, your legs parted, and he was above you, between you, everywhere.

His mouth was on your neck, your collarbone, your chest, his hands gripping your thighs, sliding them higher around his waist.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” His breath was ragged, his hands tight on you, like he was barely holding it together.

You felt feverish, your skin burning, your pulse racing, your entire body aching for more.

His lips brushed your ear, voice wrecked.

“Tell me what you want.”

You whimpered, arching into him. “You.”

Lando exhaled sharply, his forehead dropping to yours. “Yeah? You want me to ruin you, baby?”

“Yes.”

His lips curved into a smirk.

And then—

He did.

Lando's eyes darkened, his grip tightening on your hips as he pressed firmly against you, letting you feel just how much he wanted this—wanted you.

“You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” he murmured, his lips ghosting over your jaw, down your throat,leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

You gasped, your fingers threading through his curls, tugging just enough to make him groan against your skin. God, that sound.

His hands slid lower, gripping your thighs, spreading you open beneath him. His touch was teasing, torturous, deliberate.

"Lando—"

He smirked, because he knew. He knew exactly what he was doing to you.

“Patience, love.”

Patience? Fuck patience.

You arched up into him, pressing your body flush against his, and his breath hitched, his fingers digging into your skin.

"Needy little thing, aren't you?" he teased, but his voice was hoarse, like he was barely holding himself together.

"Shut up and touch me."

He chuckled, low and dangerous. "You want me to touch you, sweetheart?"

"Yes."

"Where?" His fingers skimmed the edge of your shorts, barely there, taunting.

"Everywhere."

Lando swore under his breath, his control snapping like a frayed wire.

And then he was kissing you again—deep, desperate, all-consuming.

His hands slid under your hoodie, tugging it over your head, his lips barely leaving yours for a second before they were back, claiming, devouring.

He pressed his hips into yours, and the friction made your head spin.

"Feel that?" he breathed against your lips. "That’s what you do to me."

You whimpered, your nails raking down his back, pulling him closer, needing more.

"Lando, please—"

He groaned, his forehead dropping to yours. "Jesus, you're gonna be the death of me."

And then—

His hands. His mouth. His body against yours.

And nothing else in the world mattered.

Lando’s lips were still pressed to your neck, the heat of his breath making your skin burn. You could feel the weight of him above you, his chest rising and falling with every labored breath, his body just inches from yours, and the way his hands moved gently, almost hesitantly, as if asking for permission to get closer.

You didn’t stop him.

His fingertips grazed along your skin, light and teasing, before finally, slowly, slipping beneath the waistband of your pants. You shivered, gasping as his touch lingered, so close but not quite touching what you needed.

His lips moved back to your ear, voice low and dangerous. "Tell me you want this," he whispered, the words laced with so much desire that it sent a wave of heat through your body. "Tell me you want me as much as I want you."

You swallowed, fighting the urge to pull him closer, but you couldn’t find the words at first. The tension was thick, hanging between you like a promise waiting to be broken.

Finally, you could barely breathe as you whispered back, voice barely audible. "I want you."

And that was all it took.

Lando’s lips crashed down on yours, desperate now, like he couldn’t hold back any longer. His hands pulled at your pants, quickly, almost too quickly, and in a rush of movement, you were completely exposed to him, the cool air of the room hitting your skin as his body pressed you into the sheets.

He hovered over you for a moment, pausing, his eyes locking with yours. "Are you sure?" His voice was rough, like he was barely holding onto his control.

You could barely speak, but you nodded, reaching for him, pulling him in, desperate to close the distance between you two.

"Then let’s not waste any more time."

And then, there was no stopping him.

⸻ ⸻ ⸻

Lando’s chest vibrated with laughter, and you could feel it everywhere—his warmth pressed against you, the rise and fall of his breathing beneath your cheek.

You huffed dramatically. “I’m deleting my blog.”

Lando gasped, mock-offended. “You’d do that to all your fans? To all the people who live for your thirst posts about me? That’s cruel, love.”

You groaned, trying to shove his grinning face away, but he only held you tighter, rolling you onto your back so he could hover over you again.

His curls were a mess, his lips kiss-swollen, and the way he was looking at you—like you were his favorite thing in the world—made your breath hitch.

“You really read all of them?” you murmured, your fingers tracing absentminded circles on his bicep.

Lando smirked, but this time, it was softer. “Course I did. Had to know what I was up against.”

You frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”

He let out a small breath, his fingers brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You write about me like I’m some kind of dream, you know? Like I’m untouchable. But I’ve been right here, loving you the whole time.”

Your heart stopped.

Lando had always been flirty, always been the one to push your buttons, but this? This was different.

This was real.

Your fingers tightened around his arm, your voice barely above a whisper. “Lando…”

He smiled, leaning down, pressing the softest kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I mean it, love. You’re not just some girl writing about me on the internet. You’re my girl.”

Something in your chest cracked open, something tender and terrifying all at once.

You reached up, pulling him down, your lips meeting his with more emotion than you could put into words.

Lando sighed into you, his hands sliding down your waist, his body pressing closer, deeper, warmer.

And suddenly, your blog posts didn’t seem so far-fetched anymore.

Because Lando Norris was the kind of man to ruin you in the best possible way— and put you back together all over again.

⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻

You were wrapped up in his hoodie, sitting on the couch, laptop balanced on your legs, as you stared at your dashboard.

Lando walked in, fresh out of the shower, a towel slung over his shoulders, hair still damp.

“Oh no.” His voice was teasing, amused. “Are you writing about me again?”

You glared playfully, closing the screen. “Absolutely not.”

He grinned, plopping down next to you, pulling you into his arms.

“What if I wanna read the next chapter?” he murmured against your skin, his lips brushing your jaw, your neck, your shoulder.

You shivered, tilting your head slightly. “What if I just live it instead?”

Lando hummed, satisfied, his fingers curling into your hoodie, pulling you closer.

“Best story I’ve ever been a part of, love.”

⸻ ⸻ ⸻

Masterlist

[notarmedandnotdangerous]

NEEED THE REST OF THAT CAMBOY FIC PLEASEEEEEE 😭😭

of course 😝 ask and you shall receive!! this is so freaky i feel embarrassed. i hope you enjoy the second part

+18 mdni! faceless desire; a fic where bucky finds out about reader's little secret

cw: camboy!m!reader, dom!slightly mean!bucky, sub!m!reader, porn with plot (shocking), reader invites bucky on stream, flirting, use of shitty usernames, includes stream comments, bucky being so down bad it actually hurts, cumming untouched, dry humping, bucky being possessive, praising, slight degrading, forced orgasms, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, dumbification, creampie

word count: >4.5k

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

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

bucky waited for you. a day passed, then two, then five. there was no texts, no calls, no nothing. you took a week off of streaming, saying something about being on vacation. he wanted to reach out to you. multiple times, he typed something to send to your number, then deleted them. nothing felt right, he didn’t want to pressure you, just wanted you to know that he was still here for you.

a week had passed. on a cold, rainy day, you were walking home, and you just happened to pass by the old tennis court. you hadn’t walked by this path in a while. you turned your head, just to see someone there.

it was bucky. he sat on the bleachers, arms braced on his knees as he stared out at the empty court in the pouring rain. you stopped at the gate, contemplating if you should go in. you didn’t move forward, just waited.

you walked slowly into the court. you stood a few meters away from bucky, who had his headphones on. the headphones you gave him for his birthday 2 years ago. how weird, you’ve never once seen him use them. you walked closer, leaning closer to shade him from the rain with your umbrella.

bucky looked up, his expression softening, before looking away. it was subtle, but you caught it. he didn’t speak, he was too afraid to. afraid that he would mess up again, as he always did.

“i thought i was going to lose everything.” finally, he broke the silence.

you turned towards him. he kept staring ahead.

“when you told me you knew, i panicked, shut you out. i thought, if you knew, and you didn’t like what you saw, everything between us would fall apart.” you replied, hands shaky as you gripped onto the handle of umbrella tightly.

“i liked what i saw. i already did.” his voice was soft, much softer than his usual blunt tone.

“i wasn’t ready to be seen, buck.”

“i didn’t mean to take that from you.”

“you didn’t.” you looked over at him. “i gave it away when i showed such an obvious thing.” you huffed, almost a laugh.

“it was kind of a dumb move.” bucky smiled gently.

“i missed you, so bad.”

“i missed you too.” bucky nodded, his voice quiet as he admitted.

“i’m still scared, buck.”

“we can figure it out slowly, no rushing, okay?” bucky nudged your shoulder lightly.

a week later

everything was back to normal, you were yourself again. you finally worked up the courage to pull bucky aside and ask him to join you.

“would.. would you like to join me one day?.. l-like, on stream..” you stuttered, your words getting caught in your throat. his eyes widened at your invitation, and you panicked. “you don’t have to if you don’t want to- it’s just an invitation, i-i’m sorry if it’s weird, i’ll go now.” you were about to leave, but he grabbed your wrist, and he pulled you into an innocent kiss.

“does that answer your question?” he spoke bluntly. your face flushed, as you stuttered.

“y.. you’re a horrible kisser, buck.. wait, was that your first kiss since the 40’s?” his face flushed, as he avoided your question.

“i.. i forgot how, okay.” he admitted, his voice strained.

later that evening

‘le charmeur’ went live again for the first time in a week.

“hey, took a break. had to recalibrate.” you spoke, much calmer than before now. you kept bucky’s face out of the frame as well, protecting both his dignity, and privacy, he was a congressman after all. “have a special guest with me today. someone who owes me a tennis rematch. say hi, newbie.” you moved slightly, just enough for the people to see as he waved awkwardly to the camera.

oh, the comments were absolutely bat shit crazy today. everyone in the comments either whined, and complained, or were envious of him having the chance to fuck your pretty ass.

user3:

‘WHO IS THAT WHO IS THAT WHO IS THAT’

user4:

‘WAIT THAT’S THE GUY?? THAT’S BANDAGE GUY??’

“anything you wanna say, baby? everyone’s losing their minds over you.” you moved out of the way completely now, showing bucky splayed out on your bed. the only piece of clothing he had on were his sweatpants, which did absolutely nothing to hide his size. he didn’t know what to say at first, he sighed, before sitting up.

“hi, i’m.. uh.. bandage guy.” the comments started flooding with more thirsty, horny users, the moment they heard his voice.

user5:

‘he’s cute. i’m saying it. i’m not taking it back.

user6:

‘oh my god he has THE voice’

user7:

‘god, he’s so pretty, you need to ruin him!’

user8:

‘i wonder what he sounds like when he cums’

“he’s a beauty, isn’t he? seems like everyone thinks so, baby.” you leaned back, giving him an innocent peck.

“fuck, keep talking, babydoll.” he groaned, the camera was cropped at the base of his neck, and the viewers could see the way his head tilted to the side when he spoke, and the comment section exploded once more.

user9:

‘THE HEAD TILT THE HEAD TILT. I’M DEAD.’

user10:

‘the groaning UGHHH u want me dead’

user11:

‘#iloveneedymen’

“woah woah, you guys are feral. are you people here for me, or for him?” you joked. “just so you people now.. he’s mine, and always will be. right, baby?” you turned around, and he nodded frantically.

“yes- yes, babydoll.” bucky spoke, and his voice faltered, just for a beat.

user12:

‘PAUSE. REWIND. REPLAY.’

user13:

‘i’m writing fanfiction already. don’t fucking test me.’

user14:

‘HE STUTTERED.. HE FUCKING STUTTERED’

“shh, shh, baby, you’re giving the fans too much. they’ll exploit you.” you breathed, signalling for bucky to come closer to you. he sat on the chair, while you sat on his lap, facing the camera. “can we get someone here to time him out for being too vocal? he’s giving you people too much material to work with.”

“wouldn’t mind having you shut me up, in more ways than one.” bucky spoke bluntly, making the comment section erupt once more.

user15:

‘OH YM GOD???’

user16:

‘IN MORE WAYS THAN ONE?? OH YA’LL FREAKYYY’

you were dead silent, caught off guard by how bold he can be.

“what? too much?”

“you’re dangerous with an audience, you know that? you can’t just say things like that”

“i would’ve said it off camera, too. you’re the one who invited me.”

user17:

‘OH GOD “WOULD’VE SAID IT OFF CAMERA” HE’S UNHINGED’

user18:

‘HE’S SO FINE OH MY GOD’

“oh my god- you can’t just say that.” you pressed your fingers to your temple.

“what? i’m just being honest.”

user19:

‘this man is flirting LIKE IT'S A CONTACT SPORT.’

“you’re out of control.” you muttered.

“you knew that when you invited me.” then, with absolutely no hesitation, bucky added. “put me in my place then.”

the way you visibly froze made him chuckle. it was like someone had unplugged your brain. your mouth opened, closed, as your entire face turned red. you stared blankly at him, making him wrap his hands around your waist, as if he was trying to apologise.

user20:

‘SIR THIS IS A FAMILY STREAM (it’s not but STILL)’

user21:

‘OH YOU’RE INSANE FOR THAT. NO FOREPLAY NO NOTHING.’

user22:

‘i love u bandage guy pls never die’

user23:

‘charmeur is buffering irl HELP’

“oh my god..” you covered your face with your hands, leaning backwards so that you were pressed on bucky’s chest. “i’m never living this down.”

“not unless you make me behave, babydoll.” he whispered into your ear.

“yeah yeah.. k-keep talking and you’ll know what happens.” you grinded on him, and he made a strangled noise.

user24:

‘stop flirting and FUCK right now’

“see, babydoll? even the comments are complaining now. aren’t you supposed to fuck me on camera?” he moved the camera angle slightly higher, so that it’d reveal your neck. one of his hands snaked to your throat, and he applied gentle pressure. you whimpered, even though you were always toying with yourself, you hadn’t had actual sex with someone.

“we’re not fucking on camera yet! gotta edge the viewers sometimes so that they lose it.”

“well, i can’t focus when you’re all pretty on my lap.”

“well, try harder then!”

“i’m trying not to develop a thing for your voice when you’re bossy.”

user26:

‘HELLO?? THE VOICE??’

you opened your mouth, then closed it again. you were so flushed, even your ears were red.

“you’re gonna make me end the stream early if you keep this up.”

“then stop sounding so good when you’re mad at me.” bucky was quick to bite back. it drove both you, and the comment section insane.

user27:

‘the tone change????’

user28:

‘they’re not even playing with each other anymore, they’re playing with US’

you grinded on him slowly, making him grunt into your ear, his hands falling to your hips.

“you always get that intense, triumphed look when you get a reaction out of me.” bucky spoke.

“you should see how i look when i get what i want.” you teased, and in response, he blinked, then again. his mouth slightly open, and he just.. stared. no words, no nothing.

user29:

‘he said WHAT’

user30:

‘BANDAGE GUY IS GONE. DEAD. ASCENDING’

“something wrong?”

“uh. nope. all good.” he cleared his throat, and suddenly became very interested in your bed frame, turning his head towards it.

user31:

‘EVERYONE CHEERED. WE GOT HIM.’

user32:

‘the way he short-circuited. absolutely feral. 10/10’

“okay, maybe we’re having a bit too much fun.” you leaned back to kiss him. “i’m sorry, you were just so fun to tease, couldn’t help it.”

the both of you were doomed, bucky had not had sex since like, the 40’s, while you had only fucked yourself on toys. you were gonna be each other’s first, and it made you giddy.

“you think so? you’re killing me here, babydoll.” he gripped your hips, and you changed the camera angle. he stood up, carrying you to the bed behind you.

“i know you enjoyed it.” you attached a mic to your bed frame, so that it could pick up on you and bucky’s noises.

“is the camera angle right? want everyone to see how well i’m gonna fuck you.” he spoke possessively, and you whined. “hear that? he’s just..” he pulled your shorts down. “so fucking hard for me.”

“please, sir.” you called him by the pet name you used when he was in your comment section.

“see? your ‘charmeur’ is so far gone, calling me whatever he wants now.” he spoke to the audience, and they went feral.

user33:

‘fucking two bad bitches AT THE SAME DAMN TIME’

user34:

‘one chance, bandage guy, that’s all i ask for’

“one chance?.. mm, no, i belong to him. ask him for permission if you want me.” bucky dominated your comment section now, oh you were absolutely done for. “but maybe i’ll let some of you have a go with your ‘charmeur’. how does that sound, babydoll? letting the others use you, since you’re just so hungry for cock.”

user35:

‘oh he’s MEAN’

user36:

‘good luck charmeur, you’ll need it..’

“n-no, want you, only you.” you stuttered. he smirked, pulling you close and kissing you. he moved his hand down to stroke your cock, and you grabbed onto his shoulder tightly. “y-yes, mmh..”

“see, guys? he wants me, only me.” he spat, who knew he could get so possessive. it was new, but you definitely weren’t complaining.

“please, f-faster.” your hips bucked desperately. you weren’t used to having someone else’s hands on you, and it made you even more sensitive. “b-baby, please.” you pleaded, your back slumping against the pillows on your bed. he did as you asked him to, stroking you faster than before and you mewled.

“that’s it, gonna cum for me, aren’t you?” he teased, and you could only nod, too far gone to respond.

“yes- yes, gonna cum.. j-just for you.” your hips jumped and writhed uncontrollably when bucky teased your tip, and you came immediately. it was more intense than usual, and you were breathless. “h-holy fuck.”

“one more for me, come on, before we get started.” he kissed your neck, continuing to stroke you. you could easily reject him, but you didn’t. just let him tease and kiss you all over.

“i feel like the most times you’ve came in a row is 2 times, am i right?” he asked, and you nodded your head in response. “what if we broke that record? make you cum at least 3 times?”

“that’s.. a-a lot.” you stuttered, unsure of what you should say.

“but you can take it, right?”

“mmh, i-i think i can.”

user37:

‘at this point just force orgasms out of him.. good god he’s so hot’

user38:

‘tears rolled down my thighs btw. you’re insane for this.’

“good, good boy.” he kissed you, gently cupping your face with his hand, all while stroking you faster than before. he loved the way you looked when you came, absolutely debauched, absolutely ruined.

“c-cumming again.. aah..” you came, for the second time in a row. you hadn’t done this a lot, so it was definitely a little overwhelming. your hips jerked as you came again, he slowly stroked you through your high, before you finally calmed down.

“is that okay?”

“mmh, want your cock.. c-can i?” you pleaded, and bucky nodded. he pulled his sweatpants down, revealing his length. your eyes widened in shock, you’ve never seen anyone this big, this long, this pretty.

“you’re practically drooling, babydoll. wanna suck it?” the way you nodded immediately was embarrassing.

user39:

‘oh charmeur is folding’

user40:

‘suck him off til he cries!’

“go on.” bucky leaned back against the cushions, letting you move the camera to the edge of the bed, so that it could catch what you were doing.

slowly, you took bucky’s cock in your hands. god, he was impressive. you felt like you needed both of your hands to properly work him.

“you’re.. so big, so pretty.” you arched your back, looking up at him. when he tilted his head downwards to look at you, he knew he was fucked.

“u-uugh.. babydoll..” it came to him as a shock as well, he didn’t expect to cum just from the sight of you in between his thighs. all this just caused the comments to explode once more.

user41:

‘oh he’s NEEDY’

user42:

‘cumming before ‘charmeur’ even touched him was so hot btw’

“you.. you came so quickly. didn’t even do anything yet.” you teased, kissing his tip and his breath stuttered. “you were so bold, so possessive. what happened to that?”

“nothing happened.” bucky spoke bluntly, he was embarrassed though, the flush on his face spreading down to his neck and chest. “just hurry.”

“so bossy.” you cooed, dragging your hands up and down his cock, and he whimpered, throwing his head back. his hand flew up to cover his mouth, trying to hide the sinful noises he was making. “ah ah, wanna hear you.” at your call, he removed his hand from his mouth, letting it drop to the back of your head instead. you eagerly lapped at his dick, it was way too big to fit in your mouth anyway.

“oh, babydoll.” he played with your hair as he let you toy with him.

“don’t wanna make you cum too much, don’t think you can fit in with my pace.” you teased, and he huffed. he manhandled you, you were now on your stomach, while he was behind you.

“yeah? i think i’ll fit just fine..” his fingers sneaked down to your hole. “..right here. where i belong.” he leaned forward, kissing your neck before pressing your upper body down into the bed, essentially forcing you into the nastiest arch. “so needy, letting me get my cock wet inside you.” he pressed his cock into your hole slowly, and you mewled.

“s-so.. full.” you sighed.

“full? but it’s just the tip.” bucky chuckled, pressing in as slowly as he could from behind you. after all, he didn’t wanna risk hurting you.

“uuh.. mhh.. i-i can’t..”

“what? too big?” he teases, gripping your hips harder as he pushes you deeper into the mattress underneath the both of you. “but my cock fits so snug in you, it’s like you were made for me, babydoll.” he coos, this thumb moving to play with your sensitive tip, and you almost yelped out.

user43:

‘keep going charmeur u can take it!!’

user44:

‘i wish i was there taking his cock instead..’

“oh, look, the comments are encouraging you, babydoll.” he smirked, finally bottoming out inside you. he was much thicker and slightly longer than the toys you always used on yourself. you teared up at the slight overstimulation, and sheer stretch of his cock in you. “look at those tears.” his thumb wipes one away, and you let out a soft moan. “it’s okay, i’ve got you.”

“p-please.. uuh..” that was all it took for bucky to lose his mind.

“shh, relax, babydoll. if you keep squeezing me like that, i’ll cum sooner than i want to..” he pulled you up, holding you up by holding your jaw, so that your back was against his bare chest. “you wouldn’t wanna disappoint your viewers, would you?” you shook your head, blinking away the tears. “attaboy, come on, you can take it. i’ll go slower for you.” he dropped you back onto the bed, gripping your hips tightly as he rocked your hips against his, letting you adjust to his size.

“s-sir.. you can.. mm- move.. n-now.” you stuttered out, you were convinced that bucky's cock was punching the air out of your lungs now that he started actually thrusting. he focused on your sweet spot, pulling out slowly, just to roughly, and harshly fuck back into you, bullying your prostate in the process.

“o-oh, f-fuck.. so deep.. i-i’m gonna cum, sir- can i? please?” you begged, you knew he’d let you cum either way, and you were begging just to put on a show for the viewers in your stream.

“of course, go on. cum for me, cum on my cock.” it only took him a few thrusts, before you’re cumming all over the sheets. your back ached as he pressed you into the meanest, most painful arch. “that’s it, squeeze my cock for my cum, babydoll. you want me to fill you up don’t you? want me to breed you? let me fuck it back into you, so that you don’t waste a single fucking drop?” he teased, grunting in between each mean thrust he gave you, his head tilted back with a moan as you squeezed his cock impossibly tighter.

“w-wait.. need a break..” you whimpered, panting into the mattress, and bucky nodded. he didn’t pull out though, keeping his cock warm inside you.

the more bucky spoke, the more the comment section went feral.

user45:

‘breed him!’

user46:

‘fill him up, he’s been begging for it’

“jeez, you guys are insatiable.” he chuckled, gently running his fingers up and down your sides. “it looks like your ‘charmeur’ can’t take any more, though.” he pulled you up once more, holding you against his chest by splaying his palm on your stomach. it was obscene, and absolutely filthy. “look at him, he’s crying big fat tears, telling me that he can’t take it anymore.”

“s-sir..” your hands snaked up to bucky’s on your stomach. “f-felt.. so good..”

“think you can take more, babydoll? just a bit more, so that i can fill you up?” you nodded, but apparently that wasn’t enough. “come on, use your big boy words.”

“y-yes.. i-i can, want your cum, p-please.” you spoke breathlessly, all while his cock twitched inside you.

“good boy, come on.” he dropped you back onto the bed, gripping your hips tightly. “i can go rough, right? you’ll let me ruin you, won’t you?”

“yes s-sir, anything for you..” you were debauched.

“i’ll take care of you, babydoll.” he leaned forward to kiss your shoulder, before he gripped your hips tightly and started a rougher, harder, faster pace. every single thrust of his knocked the wind out of your lungs as you took all of them. he squinted, reading out a comment from the screen.

user47:

‘god, i’d let him breed me until i’m dripping with his cum’

“oh, that bad huh? too bad, the only person who’ll ever have a chance is him.” bucky’s thrusts started to get sloppy, as he got closer to the edge.

“mmh- sir, g-gonna cum again..” you writhed underneath him, before cumming again. your entire body shuddered as your knees buckled. he held you up, gripping onto your hips tightly.

“aah, fuck, squeezing me so tight. i’m gonna cum, gonna fill you up, babydoll. can i?’

“y-yes, fuck, always..” you were so out of it, not even knowing what you were agreeing to anymore.

“mmh, g-gonna breed you, sweet thing.. uugh.” he gave you a few harsh, mean thrusts, before cumming deep inside you with the cutest whimper ever. “..fuck.” unfortunately, the whimper was loud enough to get caught by the microphone.

user47:

‘am i the only one that heard that?’

user48:

‘THE WHIMPER?? i need to lie down’

user49:

‘THAT WASN’T ACTING. shit came straight from his SOUL.’

it took a few minutes for bucky to calm down, his cock still in you. he finally sobered up enough to talk.

“was that good enough of a show? i hope i made a good impression on all of you horny freaks out there.” he chuckled, pulling out of your spent form. “look at him, he’s all ruined now, poor thing.” he copied your signature move, swiping the camera gently before ending the stream.

[darkmatilda]

𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢'𝐦 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐞 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: it's time to return the second favor. and for that reason, spencer finds himself invited by you...on a date?

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x diva!chemist!female reader, fake date at the bar, reader's ex makes an appearance, kinda inspired by blank space taylor swift

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 3.5 k

𝐚/𝐧: anon's request

[unknown number] wake up pretty boy

[unknown number] time to pay your debt

Spencer, sitting on his bed with a book resting on his lap, stared at the message for a moment, his brows slightly furrowed. Evening, the warm glow of his lamp making it easy to read. He had the next day off, no real plans, just a quiet night ahead. The sudden chime of his phone had caught him off guard.

For a split second, he was surprised—but he didn’t have to think too hard to guess who the sender was.

He typed out how did you get my number, then deleted it before hitting send. Something else was far more interesting. And a little concerning. That second message. Pay your debt. She remembered about that now, at this hour?

Before he could ask, another text came in.

[unknown number] taking you on a date

[unknown number] dress nice

For a moment, deeply confused, he just stared at his phone, already sensing somewhere deep inside that this was going to be a really weird night.

[spencer] What do you mean by ‘date’?

A minute or two passed. He didn’t put his phone down. Didn’t even look away from the screen.

[unknown number] the one who asks questions loses his way

His fingers moved automatically.

[spencer] That’s not how the saying goes

✓ Seen 10:12 pm

Reid sighed. He had absolutely no plans to go out that evening, and he wasn’t thrilled about the fact that he hadn’t been given any details about this so-called date. Unless she was joking? There was something off about this—some kind of trick, a twist he hadn’t figured out yet.

The only thing stopping him from ignoring her messages—something he very much wanted to do—was the simple fact that he did owe her. Technically, twice. Though he had managed to repay one of those debts in an easy way, requiring almost no effort on his part.

He had a feeling this second one wouldn’t be nearly as simple.

And now he found himself wondering what exactly she meant by dress nicely.

*

"Wait, one more time. We’re going there as her… what?"

"Mental support," she said, moving forward with that usual quick stride of hers, the sharp tapping of her heels almost aggressive. Whether unconsciously or fully aware but not caring, she got a few steps ahead of him, speaking without turning back. Her voice hung in the night, street air.

Spencer hated when she did that. It made him feel like a dog on a leash. He sped up to match her pace.

"Well, I heard you," he scoffed. "Doesn’t mean I get what you mean. And maybe you should clue me in if I’m supposed to be part of…whatever this is” 

She stopped with a sigh so heavy it was as if giving him any details about something he was supposed to be part of was beyond her patience and strength. Hands tucked into the pockets of his blazer, he gave her a questioning look as she finally turned to face him.

His gaze dropped—quick, casual. Or at least, that’s how he thought it looked. Even at night, under the less-than-ideal glow of the streetlights, he could register how her outfit hugged her figure, emphasizing every curve.

At work, she dressed more formally. With her looks, that face, and the unshakable confidence she carried, she could probably make a burlap sack look like a designer gown. But Spencer had noticed something about the way she dressed for nights like this. Or rather, the way she became something else entirely. Like she belonged to the night, completely in her element.

Quick, casual glance—yeah, right.

To make the situation even more embarrassing, she snapped her fingers in front of his face, demanding his attention.

"Alright, listen up," she started, shifting her weight onto one hip. "I’m explaining this one last time. My friend, Liv—you might know her from my team…"

"Olivia, you mean," He said her full name in confirmation, recognizing the woman he had indeed seen before.

"Do you really have to correct me on how I call my own friends? Anyway, fine. Olivia has a date tonight with some guy she met online. The thing is, Olivia is a hopeless romantic who’s waiting for the love of her life to magically show up at her door, but she’s also buried in work and can’t even remember the last time she went on a date. Plus, she’s a little worried about ending up with some psycho. You know what I mean."

"All too well," he nodded, recalling all the missing persons cases that had started exactly like this—an online match gone wrong.

“Exactly. So Olivia asked me to come along. You know, for physical backup if anything goes sideways. And mental backup. Just to make her feel safer."

Well, he didn’t want to praise her out loud, but it was…nice of her. Okay, nice wasn’t the perfect word—honestly, the fact that she even had to do something like this was a little bitter at its core—but it didn’t change the fact that she was being a good friend.

He watched her for a moment, not even realizing he had gone quiet. He realized he’d never actually seen her interact with her people, her team, but he had somehow assumed their dynamic was more… detached. Not that she genuinely considered them her friends and actually cared.

"Finally caught up, genius?" she asked, a hint of teasing in her voice.

Spencer snapped out of it. Okay, so maybe she cared about her friends—but she was still seriously unbearable.

"I get it. Except for one thing," he replied, matching her slightly rude tone, one that made him sound almost offended. She raised a brow, nodded as if giving him permission to continue, and started walking again—this time at a slower pace.

Actually, they were moving at almost the same rhythm now, nearly side by side.

"Why do you need me for this?"

Their eyes met, but this time, she didn’t look like she was about to mock him. In fact, the corners of her lips lifted slightly, as if she thought that was a very good question.

"Because tonight, pretty boy, I plan to stay completely on the sidelines," she explained. "Not interfering with my friend or her date in any way. Being completely invisible."

"Invisible?" he repeated, raising his eyebrows.

It wasn’t even just about what she was wearing. Drawing attention was simply an unavoidable part of her presence. She nodded in confirmation.

"Exactly. But I figured that to keep away all the desperate guys trying to get my number, all I need to do is bring one with me," she looked like she was trying not to laugh. "You’re gonna be my scarecrow."

Spencer's mouth fell slightly open, completely at a loss for words.

"You…you are just… just…"

"Amazing, smart, beautiful, wonderful…"

"Shameless. That’s the word"

For a moment, she didn’t respond, her expression filled with a strange kind of complacency.

"Love when you compliment me," she said in an overly sweet tone.

"That wasn’t—" he started, but then cut himself off, realizing there was probably no point in arguing with her. He sighed.

"You’re welcome."

*

Despite the late hour, the bar wasn’t overcrowded. Sure, there were plenty of people inside, but most were engaged in quiet conversations over their drinks. Spencer noticed quite a few couples. As if they were one of them, they found a secluded spot in the corner, right next to a small pool table made of dark wood with a striking green surface.

"That’s them," the woman discreetly motioned with her head toward the pair at the bar— a cascade of blonde curls and the man accompanying her. She fixed them with an assessing gaze, narrowing her eyes slightly. “Hm. He looks like his pictures. I’ll take that as the first good sign."

"She shows you pictures of her dates?"

"Every single time. We rate them on a scale from one to ten."

Spencer wasn’t surprised in the slightest. His gaze briefly shifted in their direction, though he made sure not to stare, not wanting to make them look weird. The pair seemed to be talking a little shyly—it was obvious this was their first meeting.

“So,” he started. “Is this what we’re going to do all night? Just stand here?”

“Basically, yeah. I mean, we don’t have to just stand around like a couple of creeps, staring at them. We can enjoy our date. Just because it’s fake doesn’t mean it can’t be fun,” she said, slowly circling the pool table until they were on opposite sides.

She slipped off her outer layer, and Spencer couldn’t help but notice that her outfit underneath did anything but help her stay invisible. Reaching for a pool cue, she nodded at him.

“What are you waiting for?”

“You want to play?”

“No, I want to duel you with the cues,” she scoffed. “I’m a professional, you know.”

Spencer raised an eyebrow slightly as he grabbed a cue of his own.

"Professional?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Mhm. World championships and all that. But that was a while ago. Then came the injury, and I had to say goodbye to my career. After that, I had no idea what to do with myself, so I became a chemist," she said, with a casual shrug.

He chuckled at the made-up story, setting the pool balls up into a perfect triangle at the center of the table. Once they were ready, he gestured for her to go ahead.

She refused with an exaggerated, almost overly generous smile. "Oh, no. Amateurs go first."

He held back a roll of his eyes, leaning over the table. The balls scattered across the surface, and from that point on, he'd play with the cue ball. It was her turn now, and Spencer watched her movements closely.

"I didn't know your story before the FBI job was so fascinating," he remarked, trying to throw her off a little.

They hadn't made any bet, but there was a subtle competitiveness in him now.

She shrugged.

"I don't think it's fascinating. More tragic. Lost dreams."

"Right, sorry for my disregard. What kind of injury was it?"

She paused for a moment, focusing on her next shot. One of the balls sank smoothly into a pocket, and a small smile played on her lips.

"Shoulder," she replied casually. "Sometimes it still acts up. I have to go for regular massages."

"Poor thing," he said, his tone teasing.

Her gaze briefly scanned the entire bar, landing once again on her friend. Nothing seemed to bother her, so she returned to the game.

"We're playing just for fun? Don't you think that's a bit boring?"

"Sorry, I don’t want to bet with you again. Paying off debts with you is never easy."

"Come on. You’re having fun with me” 

"You think so?"

“No. I know it."

She potted another ball, gaining the upper hand. Spencer puffed his lips, deciding to focus more on the game. They both did, though it didn't stop them from continuously exchanging similar comments, remarks, and jabs. And despite the countless huffs and eye rolls, he had to admit, he was really having fun. With her.

And even more fun when he realized he was close to winning.

With a certain satisfaction, he noticed she was watching his moves with more attention, her eyes slightly narrowed with cool competition. As he leaned over the table again, she moved toward him lightly, almost as if tiptoeing. She passed by almost unnoticed. In fact, he only realized how close she was when her breath softly grazed the inside of his ear as she spoke in the voice of a social commentator.

"Ladies and gentlemen, to the surprise of the entire audience, amateur Spencer Reid has managed to take the lead," her whisper was laced with feigned suspense. Of course, he refrained from moving, making sure not to make a mistake from distraction. "Will he manage to win today's tournament?"

He straightened up with a sigh, which made her step back slightly. He gave her a look full of mock pity, and she responded by slowly blinking her eyes, imitating the gaze of an innocent angel.

"I'm pretty sure this counts as sabotage," he remarked.

She raised both hands in the air, as if defending herself against the accusation.

"Hey, I'm not doing anything," she denied, a subtle spark in her eye. She gave a quick nod toward the table. "Come on, finish it."

Spencer, uncertain and sensing she was up to something, tried to refocus. When he found the perfect angle and was about to hit the white ball, something nudged his elbow, causing it to roll in the completely wrong direction.

He directed a look at her, mouth open in indignation.

"This is... this is cheating, pure cheating..."

"No idea what you're talking about!" she shot back. She pretended to be serious, though in an incredibly clumsy way. Her lips kept trembling, trying to form a smile, and she struggled to suppress it. "I didn't do anything. Your hand must have slipped..."

At the sight of the expression on his face, she couldn't hold back anymore and burst into laughter. It mixed with the sound of his incessantly muttered, mildly irritated comments under his breath, which absolutely didn't reach her conscience. In fact, it seemed to only make her feel more smug. Spencer finally gave in, letting out a sigh.

"I demand a fair rematch."

With her arms crossed over her chest, she raised an eyebrow.

"Go ahead, then," she said, grabbing the cue stick again.

Her friend and her date were still deep in conversation, sitting much closer than before, with small smiles on their faces. They didn't seem like they were in any hurry to end the evening. A few new people had arrived at the bar, making it louder, but Spencer didn't even notice. He was completely focused on this small, occupied space between them where they were slowly giving in to the growing rivalry, even though nothing had been wagered. It was probably just about pride.

His opponent was doing everything in her power to make his game harder. He'd abandoned all pretenses of fairness and stood right beside her whenever she leaned over the pool table. He didn't even intend to nudge her—but when he was close, she assumed he would and became incredibly cautious, often elbowing him in the ribs to make space for herself to focus. Despite all of this, they were laughing. He even forgot for a moment that he had planned to spend the evening entirely differently.

They played a few more rounds, each of them winning the same number of games. He announced the next one, but before starting, he briefly disappeared into the bathroom. Simply because, well, he needed to use it.

As he washed his hands, he could hear the hum of conversations, laughter, and music, all muffled by the door. It felt a bit warm, despite the fact that he'd taken off his jacket a while ago. For some reason, he suddenly became self-conscious about how he looked, though he hadn't thought about it at all before. After all, it wasn’t like he was on a date with some woman he was trying to impress. Still, driven by some inner impulse, he fixed his hair and smoothed the fabric of his shirt with his hands, rolling up the sleeves so they wouldn’t get wet while washing. He hesitated for a moment before lowering them again, surprised to sense someone's gaze on him.

The tall man with black hair, a rather sturdy build, and narrow glasses on his nose didn’t even try to hide the fact that he was staring at him. Spencer wasn’t sure if he should just walk away, but something made him raise an eyebrow skeptically. He had no idea what was going on.

“Do we know each other?” he asked, genuinely considering the possibility.

He couldn’t recall this man from anywhere, which, given his memory, pretty much ruled out the idea.

“No,” the man replied briefly but confidently, still not breaking eye contact. After a moment, he added, “But I know your friend. I know her well.”

Reid stood still for a moment, embarrassingly slow to realize which friend the man was referring to. It wasn’t until a few seconds later that it struck him—this guy had likely been watching their game for a while and was talking about her. Before Spencer could say anything, the man continued.

“Actually, I used to date her. And listen, I’ve got some advice for you. Just give up on her.”

Spencer blinked, trying to process if he’d misheard.

“Beg your pardon...”

“I’m serious, man. Not because I’m jealous or anything like that,” he quickly clarified, raising both hands as if to declare his sincerity. “It’s just simple, you know, guy solidarity. Don’t waste your time.”

He was struck by a strange feeling that his conversation partner had some mistaken idea about their relationship. Besides, even though the man had clarified that he wasn’t jealous, he sure sounded like a jealous ex. Spencer knew he should just laugh it off and walk away. After all, he wasn’t dating her, didn’t intend to, and whatever the guy had to say about her shouldn’t matter. Yet, his legs refused to simply walk away.

Some curiosity, one he couldn’t shake off, took hold of him.

“What do you mean?” he asked hesitantly.

A slight smirk appeared on the man’s face as he noticed he had Spencer’s attention.

“I get that you might see something in her. She’s pretty, you have to give her that. At first, even...kind of charming in her arrogance. But once you get to know her...it’s a strong word, but you need to know, she’s fucking insane.”

The language seemed to twist strangely in his mouth.

“That doesn’t tell me much,” he replied dryly. “I mean, anyone could mean something different by saying fucking insane.”

The man scoffed with a bit of contempt. Spencer was beginning to feel increasingly uncomfortable with the whole conversation.

“Okay, you’re probably going to deny it and defend her because you like her, I’ve been there, I get it.”

Because I like her? He almost denied it but stopped himself, letting the man continue.

“She’s just insufferable in the long run. She acts like she knows everything, gives orders, always has to have the last damn word. And you know, at first, you think she’s just playing that part. And then she’ll start acting, well, you know…”

Spencer felt the urge to laugh.

“Submissive?” he suggested, the missing word that seemed to want to spill from the man’s mouth.

“Normally. Just normally.”

Something started to smell between them. A distinctive scent. Wounded male ego.

That alone was enough for Spencer to know not to take this conversation seriously. That alone was enough for him to know he could end this conversation whenever he wanted. But before he could take a single step away, he thought about the entire evening he'd spent with her. Everything, from the first message he’d received while still at his apartment.

He counted how many times during their meeting he’d just laughed, having more fun than he’d had in a while. In some unclear way, he felt he owed her that.

“Let me sum this up,” Spencer began, gesturing with his hand and never breaking eye contact with the man. “Because this, in its way, is strange to me. Funny, even, when you think about it.”

The man furrowed his brow, listening. Spencer remained unfazed as he continued.

“First, you met a commanding, confident, and, okay, a little cheeky woman. That didn’t scare you off, though, and you decided you wanted to start a relationship with her. And when it happened, you were surprised she was commanding and cheeky? You know, she doesn’t pretend she’s not like that. You knew what you were getting into.”

"Fine, you know what, this doesn’t make sense," the man sighed. "Do whatever you want. Just remember, I warned you. One day, you’ll be grateful for this."

"Maybe you're right," Spencer admitted, nodding slowly. "It doesn’t make sense."

The man gave him one last look before scoffing and walking away. Reid was left in the bathroom alone, actually reflecting for a moment on the entire conversation. He didn’t think he should have been a part of it at all. The guy must’ve assumed he was interested, or that they were dating. He didn’t have any insight into what their relationship really looked like. In any case, Spencer imagined what it would be like if another guy were in his place. Her actual date. I wonder if a conversation like that would make him turn away, push him away entirely.

After a moment, he concluded that no, it probably wouldn't have. Assuming, of course, that the other guy wasn’t a complete idiot, blindly believing the words of a hurt, maybe even a little jealous ex.

Though, maybe he couldn’t really judge from his position. The position of someone who wasn’t planning on dating her, and who wasn’t interested in her in that way.

He thought for a moment about whether he should tell her about the conversation. He decided against it, not wanting to spoil or ruin the good mood of their evening. Instead, he straightened his hair and, completely unfazed by what he'd just heard, returned to the pool table where she was leaning, clearly growing impatient with his prolonged absence.

"Finally," she hissed at the sight of him. She almost shoved the cue stick into his hand, a small smirk tugging at her lips. "I thought you were trying to escape me. The thought of another loss scared you, huh?"

He paused for a moment, staring at her face—the slightly parted lips, the warm bar light reflecting in her eyes, and the familiar, confident gleam. For a brief moment, a fleeting thought crossed his mind—what did she even see in that guy?

But almost immediately, he dismissed it, considering it none of his business, and took the cue stick from her, ready to start the next game.

[kiwriteswords]

The Prophecy [Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader]

Masterlist|| Ao3||Word Count: 4k|| AN: This is for the lovelies who have also felt unlovable, defeated, and gotten their heart broken time after time. This was originally supposed to go in an entirely different direction when I started writing this during the week, but now it is purely self-indulgant...BUT writing this was cheaper than therapy. I also might be embarrassed by this in the morning and delete this--idk LOL. Tags/Warnings: female reader, alcohol tw, reader has self-worth issues, reader goes on bad dates, might be slightly ooc for hotch idk, hotch is no.1 reader defender, hotch falls first, whipped!hotch, insecure!reader, heartbroken reader, protective!hotch, mainly hotch's POV, reader is 100% a mary sue--sorry, not sorry. Summary: Hotch watched you get treated incorrectly time and time again by your poor choice in men. Over time, he begins to try and show you what you deserve.

In the cool, dim light of the early morning, Aaron Hotchner walked into the BAU roundtable room, his footsteps quiet against the polished floor. 

The team was already there- 

Everyone but you gathered around the table, their voices a low murmur of concern. He paused at the door, observing them--

A rare moment of unguarded conversation among the agents.

Your name was circling the room. He knew his team wasn’t one who gossiped, per se. But this was different than workplace chatter; this seemed…this seemed important. 

"Did you see her last night?" JJ asked, her voice tinged with worry. "Spencer found her crying in the parking lot.

Across the table, Spencer nodded, his youthful face more solemn than usual. "She was in her car. Just...sitting there. It was late."

Penelope shook her head, her vibrant accessories jangling softly with the movement. "That guy she's been seeing, the one who keeps popping in and out of her life? He stood her up again. I mean, who does that to someone as wonderful as her?"

Derek’s jaw tightened visibly. "We need to tell her to cut him loose. The guy's no good."

Emily leaned back in her chair, her expression thoughtful. "It's not our place to say who she should see, but it's tough watching her go through this."

Rossi, ever the sage, swirled the coffee in his cup before speaking. "The heart has reasons that reason knows nothing of, but it doesn’t make it any easier to watch someone you care about get hurt."

Hotch stepped into the room fully, the conversation pausing as all eyes turned to him. He moved to his usual seat, the chair's soft scrape punctuating the sudden silence. 

"How is she this morning?" His voice was calm, but there was an undercurrent of concern that matched his team's.

No one seemed ready to answer. It was a telling silence, one that spoke volumes about their collective unease for your well-being.

Clearing his throat, Hotch folded his hands on the table, his gaze settling on each of his team members. 

"We're a team, and we look out for each other. It's not just about being agents; it's about being there for one another as people." His eyes darkened with a quiet intensity. "We need to make sure she knows she's supported, not just as a colleague, but as a friend."

Just then, the door opened again, and you stepped in. There was a slight redness around your eyes, a testament to the previous night's tears, but you masked it well with a brave smile. 

"Morning, everyone," you said, your voice steady despite the slight quiver you hoped no one noticed.

The room filled with choruses of "Morning," each agent offering you a smile, but their eyes were too knowing, too filled with empathy.

As the meeting proceeded, Hotch found himself watching you more often than usual. 

You were the glue of the team--

Always brightening up the room. 

Always making sure everyone else was okay. 

It pained him to see that light dimmed, even just a fraction. 

He made a mental note to check in with you later, privately, to offer a listening ear if you needed it.

Throughout the briefing, your contributions were as insightful as ever, but Hotch noticed the small things--

The way your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes.

How you were quieter than usual. 

Less inclined to join in the lighter moments of banter.

When the meeting broke up, Hotch lingered, watching as you gathered your notes and prepared to head to your office. 

He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation ahead. It was not just about being a leader now; it was about being a friend and maybe--

Just maybe, something more.

In that quiet, somber room, as the early rays of sunlight began to filter through the blinds, Hotch realized just how deeply your well-being affected him. 

The realization was sudden, like a shift in the air--

A silent acknowledgement of a burgeoning concern that felt a lot like the beginning of something far deeper.

Not even a week later, the office was nearly empty. 

The hum of computers and the distant sound of night shift agents were the only accompaniment to the soft clacking of Hotch’s shoes against the polished floor as he prepared to leave for the evening. 

It had been a long day, filled with the usual demands and stresses, but none of that seemed to matter now as he rounded the corner and stopped short.

There you were, pacing the bullpen in a dress that took his breath away--

A stunning array of shimmering fabric that cascaded down in elegant folds, catching the dim office light and throwing it back out in soft, glowing ripples.

It was unlike anything he had ever seen you wear; the dress made for a special occasion, its beauty stark against the backdrop of the BAU’s utilitarian surroundings.

Looking at it, it reminded him of your personality. A reflection of light on everyone around you. Made up of so many pieces--beautiful in itself, but for others to appreciate as well. 

Your face, however, told a different story. 

It was etched with disappointment, the hurt in your eyes stark and unguarded as you moved restlessly across the floor. Hotch’s concern deepened, his initial pause turning into a determined stride towards you.

You didn’t notice him at first, lost in your troubled thoughts. When you finally saw him, the surprise on your face quickly morphed into a strained smile. 

"Oh, Hotch, I didn’t see you there."

"Clearly dressed for a special occasion," he commented softly, his voice carrying a note of concern. "You look...beautiful." 

He meant it, but the compliment was tinged with…worry as he took in the full picture--

The meticulously done makeup, the curls in your hair falling just so, the perfume that seemed a touch too poignant for the empty office.

You chuckled weakly, the sound hollow. 

"Was supposed to be a special night. I had a date, but..." Your voice trailed off, and you shrugged, a brittle edge to your movements. "He cancelled. Less than an hour ago. Guess it wasn't as special to him."

Hotch frowned, noting the weariness that seemed to seep through your attempt at humor. 

"You shouldn’t have to feel this way," he said, stepping closer, his voice lowering. "You put so much into this, into everything you do. It's not right, him not seeing that."

Your smile faltered, and you looked away, a self-deprecating laugh escaping you. "Maybe I’m just too much, you know? Maybe it’s just... me--”

"No." Hotch said firmly, cutting through your words. His expression was stern, but his eyes were kind, a rare show of open frustration mixing with something softer. "It’s not you. It’s him. Anyone who fails to see what they have right in front of them doesn’t deserve it."

Your eyes met his, and for a moment, the bullpen seemed to hold its breath. The air between you was charged, filled with the unspoken thoughts and emotions swirling around.

"You deserve someone who sees you," Hotch continued, his voice emphatic--passionate even. "Not just the effort you put into one evening, but every day…the way you look out for everyone here, how you keep us…together. You deserve much more than last-minute cancellations and excuses."

The words seemed to hang in the air, heavy and sincere. You swallowed hard, the impact of his words slowly sinking in. The corners of your mouth twitched, a ghost of a genuine smile beginning to form. "Thank you, Hotch," you murmured, your voice thick with unshed tears. "I...I needed to hear that."

Hotch nodded, his posture relaxing slightly as he sensed the shift in your demeanor. "Anyone would be lucky to have you," he added, the truth of his statement clear in his steady gaze.

As the silence stretched between you, a palpable connection in the quiet of the almost deserted office, it was clear that something had shifted. 

Not just in the night. But perhaps, just maybe--in the space that lay between personal heartache and the promise of something deeper, something real that was just beginning to take root in the dim light of the bullpen.

About a month had passed, and Hotch kept a close eye on you. He hated that not much had changed for you. He wanted to see you return to the office with a smile on your face one day. 

That you’d share you met someone who charmed you and held space for you in a way you deserved. 

Someone that treated you right.

The way he wishes he could tattoo it into your brain all of the ways he knows you should be treated. The way he wishes he could treat you that way--

Just to show you. 

Or what he told himself when he began thinking about how he wouldn’t stand you up. 

How he’d hold every door open for you. 

How he’d be prompt and make sure you knew you could take his word. 

Yet here you were. 

The local bar was buzzing with the usual Friday night crowd, the atmosphere lively and the lights dimly lit, casting a warm, inviting glow over the small group from the BAU. 

Laughter and chatter filled the air as the team, having wrapped up a particularly grueling set of cases, gathered around a large table cluttered with empty glasses and half-eaten appetizers. 

Hotch, who usually opted out of such gatherings, found himself not only attending but also genuinely enjoying the camaraderie. 

His eyes frequently searched you out, making sure you were handling the evening well.

As the night progressed and the drinks flowed more freely, the conversation deepened into personal territories. You, slightly more uninhibited from the alcohol, began to share more openly about your recent dating woes. 

"And then," you laughed, though the humor didn't quite reach your eyes, "he just disappears. Poof! Like magic. One day, it's text after text, and then nothing. Like I made it all up in my head."

You laughed. It echoed. He watched, heart sinking. You were drifting. Away.

The team's laughter quieted down as they listened, their expressions a mixture of sympathy and discomfort. Rossi raised his eyebrows, shooting a look at Hotch, who was watching you intently. 

Your smile faded as you continued, the alcohol loosening your tongue further. "I don't know, maybe it's just me. I dunno…Maybe I'm just...unlovable."

A heavy silence fell over the table, the word hanging in the air like a thick cloud. 

The team exchanged awkward glances--

Clearly at a loss. 

Hotch's jaw tightened as he saw the self-deprecation take a darker turn, his concern deepening.

"That's not true," Hotch finally said, his voice firm and commanding attention. "Being ghosted says more about his character than it does about your worth. You are... incredibly important, not just to anyone you date but to all of us here." His voice softened, "You light up every room you enter, and if someone can't see that, it's their loss, not yours."

The table went quiet, everyone looking between you and Hotch, sensing the weight of his words. 

Your eyes welled up with tears--

The kindness in his voice breaking through the veneer of humor you had used as a shield all night. 

"Excuse me," you muttered, quickly standing and making your way to the bar without meeting anyone’s eyes.

As you stood and made your way to the bar, the rest of the team exchanged knowing looks, their earlier conversation giving way to a shared understanding of what needed to happen next.

Derek caught Hotch's arm as he started to follow you. "Man, you see the way she lights up around you?" he said in a low voice, his gaze serious. "She deserves someone who's going to show up for her, really show her how she should be treated."

Emily chimed in, her expression earnest. "And not just show up, Hotch. You need to say it, too. She needs to hear how you feel about her. It’s obvious to all of us, and honestly, it’s been a long time coming."

Rossi, ever the sage, gave Hotch a firm pat on the back. "You’re a good man, Aaron. You both deserve a shot at happiness. Don’t let your chance slip by because you’re too cautious to take the next step."

Hotch looked between his friends, their faces reflecting a mix of encouragement and insistence. 

The weight of their words settled over him, reinforcing what he already felt in his heart.

 He nodded, a resolve firming in his eyes as he turned to follow you to the bar.

"Thanks," he murmured, grateful for their support. 

The team watched for a moment longer, satisfied with their intervention, before they started to gather their things, their subdued waves goodbye mingling with quiet hopes for what might develop between their stoic leader and the woman who had brought a new light to his eyes.

Hotch watched them leave before turning his attention back to you--

Now alone at the bar. 

Throwing back another drink.

With a newfound determination, he was ready to take the advice of his team to heart and to make this evening a turning point--

Not just for tonight, but for all the days to come.

He approached quietly, taking the seat next to you. The bartender moved away to give you some privacy, sensing the shift in mood.

"You don’t have to try so hard to be okay all the time," Hotch said gently, his voice barely above the noise of the bar. "It’s alright to not be alright."

You turned to look at him, the dim light of the bar highlighting the vulnerability in your expression. "I just don’t want to be this person, Hotch. This...sad, pathetic person who gets left all the time."

"You are not pathetic," Hotch countered softly, his tone earnest. "You’re human. And being human means you feel things deeply. It’s one of the things...one of the many things that makes you so special."

Your eyes met his. 

A mix of gratitude and sadness swirling within. 

"Why are you so good to me?" you asked, a small, wistful smile playing on your lips.

"Because you deserve someone to be good to you," Hotch replied, his gaze steady. "And I'm here as long as you need."

The conversation paused as you both sat, the noise around you fading into a background hum. 

Hotch’s offer hung in the air. 

Sincere and simple. 

A promise from a friend that felt like it could be the start of something more, something neither of you had expected but perhaps both needed.

You did not take much convincing to get home. Hotch watched your balance waver. Your eyes glassy. Your yawns. Your red-rimmed eyes. 

The silence in the car was thick--

Only occasionally interrupted by the soft hum of the engine and the faint sound of passing traffic. 

Hotch kept stealing glances at you. His concern evident in the crease of his brow and the tight set of his jaw. 

You stared out the window, your reflection ghosting back at you, tinged with the glow of the streetlights.

Breaking the silence, your voice was soft but filled with a weariness that seemed too heavy for one person to bear. 

"There was this guy I really liked," you began, your words slightly slurred from the drinks. "He always kept me on the back burner. I'd wait by the phone. Hoping he’d call. But he never did. I hate that I've turned into the girl I used to judge…the one who cares too much about people who don't care about her at all."

You paused, a bitter laugh escaping your lips as you continued. 

"I’d give up anything just to love someone who loves me back. It feels like I've taken a back seat in everyone else's life because they've all found love. And me? I’m just... I'm so alone. It’s like this loneliness follows me into every room, no matter how many people are there."

Hotch listened, his expression somber, the usual reserve slowly melting away under the weight of your heartfelt confession. 

After a moment, he spoke.

His voice low and filled with an unexpected vulnerability. 

"I understand what you mean," he admitted. "After my marriage ended and Haley...after she died, I was thrown into a kind of loneliness I had never known. When you spend so much of your life with someone, you don’t realize how much of yourself is intertwined with theirs until they're gone."

He paused, choosing his words carefully. 

"And you’re right, no matter how full other parts of your life are, nothing can truly fill the void that’s left by a lack of romance or intimacy. It’s a different kind of emptiness, one that seems to echo louder the quieter it gets."

Your head turned slowly to look at him, surprised not only by his openness but also by the resonance of his words with your own feelings. 

There was a comfort in knowing you weren’t alone in your loneliness. 

That someone as composed and self-assured as Hotch could understand such deep, personal pain.

"The hardest part," Hotch continued, his eyes briefly meeting yours before returning to the road, "is learning how to fill that void in a way that’s healthy, without losing yourself to it. And I see you trying to do that, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now."

The car pulled up to your place, the engine idling as you both sat in silence for a moment, letting the weight of the conversation settle.

"Thank you, Hotch," you finally said, your voice softer, tinged with gratitude and a newfound respect. "For understanding. For being here."

Hotch nodded. A gentle smile touching his lips. "Always," he assured you. "Let me walk you to the door. Just to make sure you're okay."

At your door, you turned to face Hotch--

And without a word, you wrapped your arms around him in a grateful hug. 

It was more than a simple gesture of thanks; it was a release of some of the night’s accumulated tension and loneliness.

Hotch, caught slightly off guard, heitated for only a moment before his arms came around you, returning the embrace with a protective warmth

He could smell the faint mix of your perfume, now mingled with the sharp scent of alcohol, and it stirred something in him--

A concern deeper than the usual care he held for his team. 

As he held you, his hand gently patting your back in comfort.

Hotch found himself wishing he could do more.

Wishing he could step inside. Make you a cup of coffee. And talk through the night until you felt better. 

But he held back, acutely aware of the boundaries that his role as your superior and his professional integrity dictated.

As you finally pulled back, looking up at him with eyes that showed a flicker of something like relief and comfort, Hotch realized that his feelings were perhaps more complicated than he had admitted to himself. 

There was something magnetic about you. 

Something that drew him in, far beyond the simple need to protect a team member. 

It was a pull he hadn’t expected, one he hadn’t felt in a very long time, and it left him momentarily unsure of his next words.

“You’re sure you’ll be okay?” he asked, his voice low, filled with genuine concern.

“Yes, thanks to you,” you replied, managing a small smile that seemed to brighten the dim hallway. “Really, Hotch, I can’t thank you enough for tonight.”

“Just doing my part,” Hotch said, trying to sound more casual than he felt. “But if you need anything, or just want to talk, you have my number.”

You nodded, and there was a lingering look, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that had deepened tonight, before you turned to open your door. “Goodnight, Hotch,” you said, stepping inside.

“Goodnight,” he replied, watching the door close gently behind you. 

He stood there for a few more moments, lost in thought. 

The night had revealed layers of both your vulnerabilities and strengths, and Hotch felt a renewed commitment to supporting you, not just as a leader but as someone who genuinely cared.

As he walked back to his car, the quiet of the night surrounding him, Hotch felt a mixture of worry and something akin to anticipation. It was clear now that his concern for you went beyond the professional; it was personal, and it was growing. 

He hoped that would be the end of it. He wished it would.

He just wanted to see you happy. 

Glowing from within like he knew you could and often did. 

Hotch approached your desk, his steps deliberate, echoing softly in the nearly empty bullpen. 

The rest of the team had already left for the day, leaving behind a quiet that seemed to magnify the frustration evident in your posture. 

As he drew closer, he saw your face buried in your hands. Your shoulders tense.

The office was quiet. The clock ticked loud. Each second echoed. You sat, staring. Lost.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his tone laden with concern as he stopped beside your desk.

You lifted your head, your expression a mixture of bitterness and fatigue. "Guess," you said, voice tinged with a harsh laugh.

"A guy?" Hotch guessed, his brow furrowing as he watched your reaction.

"Yup," you replied bitterly. "Got a lovely message today. Apparently, I'm not pretty enough and not compatible enough for him. And oh, he couldn't possibly date someone who works for the FBI." The frustration in your voice grew with each word. "And to top it all off, I'm losing my reservation at this place that took ages to get into."

Hotch's expression shifted from concern to disbelief, then to a visible annoyance. "Where do you find these guys?" he asked, his tone sharp. Boys. He wanted to say. "I'd love to have a chance to talk to them, give them a piece of my mind."

Your eyes widened slightly, taken aback by his intensity. 

Hotch's jaw was set, his eyes hard with indignation on your behalf. 

After a moment, he softened slightly, gesturing to your things. "Collect your things," he instructed.

You stared at him, confusion etched across your face--

"What?"

"We’re going to that dinner reservation," Hotch stated firmly, as if it were the most natural decision in the world. "It’s important to you, and you deserve at least one night where someone can attempt to live up to what you deserve."

The sudden shift in the evening's plans left you momentarily speechless, your previous frustrations giving way to a surge of something else--

Surprise. 

Perhaps tinged with relief. 

You slowly began to gather your belongings, still processing his words.

"Hotch, I..." you started, unsure of how to express your gratitude or the flurry of emotions his gesture had sparked.

"No need to thank me," Hotch interrupted gently, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he saw the change in your demeanor. "Let’s just go have a good evening, okay? No expectations, no pressures. Just dinner. As friends."

The word 'friends' hung in the air, safe yet filled with unspoken possibilities. 

As you followed him out of the office, your steps matched his in rhythm. 

A silent acknowledgment of the shift in your relationship.

As they walked out of the BAU, Hotch's actions spoke volumes about the kind of evening he intended to provide. 

He held every door open for you-- 

His movements graceful. 

Assured. 

A soft but firm hand on your back guiding you through the thresholds. 

At the restaurant, he pulled out your chair, a gesture that might have seemed outdated to some, but from him, it felt respectful. 

A nod to a gentler time.

A time he still lived in and was raising his son to live in. 

Once seated, the conversation between you flowed effortlessly.

You spoke animatedly about the dishes, your favorites, and the memories associated with them, lighting up as you described the people woven throughout your life.

How highly you spoke of them and how important they were to you.

These memories that made you who you were. 

Hotch watched you, a small, genuine smile playing on his lips, captivated by the light in your eyes and the passion in your voice.

As the evening progressed, Hotch found himself offering compliments, each more personal than might be usual for a boss. 

“You have an incredible way of seeing beauty in simple things,” he remarked sincerely, watching as a blush crept up your cheeks.

It was cute. He’d never seen your cheeks turn that color pink before. 

Sweet, even. 

You seemed taken aback, almost shy, under the weight of his words. "I...thank you," you stuttered slightly, your smile bright but your eyes reflecting a hint of disbelief. "I-I’m not used to hearing that kind of thing."

Hotch's expression turned quizzical, his head tilting slightly. “Really? I find it hard to believe no one has ever told you that before. To me, you are so many things…”

Your eyes widened, and a vulnerable honesty shone through as you responded. "I've never been complimented like that. And from someone like you--Hotch,” You laughed, almost at yourself, “you’re... you’re attractive, smart, important. For you to see me like that, it’s... i-it’s everything. And hard to believe."

Hotch paused, the weight of your words settling between them. His brow furrowed slightly, not in frustration, but in a thoughtful reassessment of how he had come to view you--

Not just as a subordinate or a friend, but as someone deeply impressive in your own right. 

Someone he cared for more than just a team member or friend. 

Something so much more, he’d realized. 

“You should believe it because it’s true,” he said earnestly. “And I’d tell you more often if you’d let me.”

The air around you seemed to charge with a new energy, a mixture of surprise, anticipation, and a burgeoning realization of the mutual respect and admiration that might be blossoming into something more. 

The way Hotch looked at you in that moment--

With a profound seriousness tinged with warmth. 

It made your heart flutter in a way that no hollow compliment from anyone else ever could.

Dinner continued under this new, uncharted atmosphere, each of you navigating this subtle shift in your dynamic, exploring the boundaries of a relationship that was, perhaps, no longer just professional. 

As the night drew on, the conversation deepened, not just into personal likes and aspirations but into what made each of you the person sitting at that table. 

As Hotch drove you back to the BAU parking lot after what had unexpectedly turned into one of the most memorable evenings of your both of your lives.

The night air felt charged with a new, electric energy. 

He had been the perfect gentleman throughout the night, insisting on paying for dinner and ensuring every part of the evening felt speciall.

Standing beside your car under the soft glow of the parking lot lights, you turned to him, your heart full of gratitude. "Thank you, Hotch. This was...this was the best not-date, date ever," you said, the words not quite sufficient to express the depth of your feelings.

Hotch smiled, a hint of something more serious in his gaze. "It can be considered an actual date, if you want...or I could plan one that could be our actual first date, if that would be something you’d be interested in," he proposed, watching your reaction closely.

Your expression shifted to one of disbelief, a mix of joy and astonishment dancing in your eyes. "Y-You...would want to go on a real date with me? But look at you? You're handsome, sexy, smart, experienced... and I'm just me?"

Hotch shook his head, his expression softening with a warmth that made your heart skip a beat. "I can’t believe you don’t see what I see," he said earnestly. "You are incredible, truly. You’re beautiful, smart, and absolutely wonderful. I so lucky if you’d have me."

The words washed over you, stirring a mix of emotions so intense they nearly overwhelmed you. "This feels too good to be true, like a dream," you murmured, the vulnerability in your voice mirrored in your eyes.

Like he said the words you’d been waiting for…for so long. 

Hotch stepped closer, his voice dropping to a tender murmur. "Honey, this isn’t a dream. This is real, all of it," he assured you, his call to affection so genuine it carved a warm path straight to your heart.

The air between you had thickened, the kind that could change the course of a life 

You felt the intensity of his gaze, the palpable connection sparking between you, and in a moment of need to ensure this wasn't a figment of your imagination, you blurted out, "Pinch me, I must be dreaming."

Hotch chuckled softly, his eyes alight with affection and amusement. "I’ll do you one better," he said, and before you could respond, he leaned in.

His lips met yours in a kiss that sent sparks flying through every nerve in your body. 

A kiss so profound and filled with emotion it felt as though everything but the two of you had melted away.

A kiss that put all other attempts from others before to shame. 

As you kissed under the soft lights of the BAU parking lot, it was as if the world had come to a standstill, the only sound being your combined breaths and the faint rustle of the night wind. 

It was the kind of kiss that marked the beginning of something new and beautiful.

A moment neither of you would ever forget—

The world seemed to realign itself slowly as you both pulled apart. 

Breathless. 

The air was still thick with the electricity of the moment, and the soft glow of the parking lot lights cast a gentle halo around you. 

He gazed down at you, his eyes searching yours for a reaction, a sign of how you felt after such a profound connection.

For a few heartbeats, neither of you spoke. 

You were both caught in the gravity of what had just happened. 

The kiss lingering like a promise between you.

Finally, Hotch broke the silence, his voice gentle, tinged with hope. 

"Was that better than a pinch?" he asked, a tentative smile playing on his lips.

You couldn't help but laugh softly, the sound light and filled with the fluttering of a thousand tiny butterflies in your stomach.

"Much better," you admitted, your voice a whisper as you dared to meet his eyes again. "Hotch, I...I didn't expect this. A-Any of this."

Hotch's smile grew warmer, his hand reaching up to gently tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary. "Neither did I," he confessed. "But I'm glad it happened. You're...you're more amazing than you realize. And I want to explore this, explore us, if you're willing."

The sincerity in his voice, the earnestness of his gaze, it all made your heart swell even as a sliver of uncertainty lingered. 

"Are you sure? I mean, you're you, and I'm...well, I'm just me. Are we really good for each other?"

Hotch’s expression grew serious, his thumb softly caressing your cheek. "You are not 'just' anything," he said firmly. "You are incredible, and yes, I am sure. More than I've been about anything in a long time. I admire you, respect you, and I am drawn to you. I hope to make up for all those who failed so miserably at trying to hold something as special as you.”

His words, so full of conviction and depth, washed away the last of your doubts. 

"O-Okay," you whispered, a smile breaking through your initial apprehension. 

As you both lingered by your car, neither of you in a rush to end the night, the conversation drifted to lighter topics--

Plans for your next outing. Favorite movies, books, the comfortable chatter marking the ease that had always existed between you, now deepened by the new, flourishing intimacy.

Finally, with a last, lingering look, Hotch said goodnight, promising to call you tomorrow. 

As you watched him walk away, his figure receding into the night, you felt a warmth spreading through you, a mix of excitement and peace, the night’s surprises leaving you eager for what the future might hold.

And for Hotch, he knew he had a 1 in a million chance of a lifetime to prove to you over and over again what you deserved. He never wanted to see the light in you dim again. If anything, he wanted to be the one to help you burn brighter. 

Tag List: @zaddyhotch @estragos @todorokishoe24 @looking1016  @khxna @rousethemouse @averyhotchner @reidfile @bernelflo @lover-of-books-and-tea @frickin-bats @sleepysongbirdsings @justyourusualash @person-005 @iyskgd @hiireadstuff @kcch-ns @alexxavicry @superlegend216 @sweethotchlogy

[noellefan101]

Staying on Campus During Winter Break, Twisted Wonderland

Reader cant go home to their family during winter break, and seems a little down in the dumps when their boyfriend talks about what they'll do at home themselves. What would he do to fix their now sad s/o? (+ some headcanons for the character, some with reader in mind)

Characters: Trey, Cater, Deuce, Jamil, Vil, Rook, Epel, Azul, Jade and Floyd (all seperate) x Reader

saw someone else write smt like this and got ideas for it myself :> Original post

Part 2

Warnings: Reader is not yuu/mc, either your family lives too far away or are occupied, maybe they're real shitty you choose. reader is usually the same grade as the character, ooc. Reader is still called Shrimpy. gn reader

Epel and Vil's first parts got deleted, so i had to write it again when i woke up the next morning and found out. man i wanted to cry.

Trey

Trey may have forgotten you mentioned staying at campus during winter break, having a little burst of excitement from going home to see his siblings and such. Stopping his little rant when he saw your expression turn a little sour with envy.

After apologizing, he sat down beside you, caressing your leg slightly. Asking if you would like him to call you every morning and evening to catch up, although what he really wanted was to just invite you over.

But you couldn't just arrive alongside him as a surprise, he's sure his parents would have a shared heart attack, so he messaged them about it when you were distracted.

Saddening a little when you explained you would have nothing interesting to talk about to him, he quickly dismissed that, because anything you talk will be interesting.

When his mother responded a few minutes later, approving of your stay and arrival as long as you shared a room, he immediately took to asking if you would like to stay over during break instead.

He will get teased relentlessly but it will be worth it if he gets to see your smile.

"Be mindful im going to be busy, though im sure you'll just get dragged out to do something with my siblings. They're sweet don't worry."

(His family has so many pictures of him being decorated with pink bows, he's just praying his parents aren't showing that, it may be fond memories with his siblings, but its still so embarrassing)

Cater

Would love to stay at school with you tbh, he doesn't want to become a human bag holder again this year, it was #torture last time.

He also considered inviting you over during winter break but decided you didn't need his sisters fawning over you as well. Instead, he suggested calling you whenever something interesting happened, which would only save you from teasing and meant he would get teased more instead, but he can handle it. Hopefully.

Putting his family aside, he ensures you talk to him about anything that bothers you.

But he would keep his word, and calls you about 10-20 times a day, sending you pictures of him and his sisters, telling you about every little thing he did and then wanting your day in detail as well.

He'll talk about literally everything that's happening, to the point he even forgets to take a pic of something for Magicam, because he was more focused on letting you know what happened instead.

Do not be surprised when he puts down one of his own bags in your room though, it's only filled with things he thought you'd like and some cute things his sisters bought.

"Morning sweet pea! Ik it's 6am, but i just have to spill this tea to you, ok? Yes it's #important, and you're gonna love it."

(Has multiple folders only for photos of your bedhead, even a few videos so he can show you a 360 of it to laugh at.)

Deuce

Deuce was planning to invite you to stay with him over the break, before he was even told you were staying at school, then deciding not to since he thought you would stay with your own family. But now, he's over the bushes in excitement and hurriedly texting his mom that you'll be staying with them anyway.

Before he even asked you by the way, which seems almost rude if not for the fact that he knew you would say yes so quickly. And you did, for what weirdo would want to willingly stay at this school while everyone is gone? Not many, like barely a handful.

So you got a temporary place in his closet and shared a bed for a about a week, enduring and endless sea of embarrassment from his mother and the other locals.

Never the less, he had lots of fun showing you around and telling you all sorts of weird stories from middle school, though reluctant.

"N-No, I'm very sure it's ok with her. I mean it, she said yes before I could even ask... h-hey don't hug me so tight, I can barely breathe!"

(his mother gave him a little bunny plush years ago and he definitely still has it on his bed back home)

Jamil

Would not want you to go with him back home, he doesn't need his parents going wild over him having a lover. And the whole family will be way too busy dealing with the asim family, so you'll be just as lonely.

But, once Kalim had heard about your inevitable stay at NRC over winter break, Jamil invited you home anyway.

Notifying his parents of your stay, he spared no time in remotely lecturing you about how to act around the asim's, since you were joining his family for a week.

Don't worry though, you won't be doing any actual work unless you really want to clean every window in the castle.

You'll be spending a lot of time with Najma and a few of her friends, if you want to or not that isn't really relevant as there isn't much to do anyway.

Kalim might want to play some board games with you and Jamil at some point, but that should be pretty normal compared to other stuff.

"Keep your head low, don't start conversation, don't talk unless spoken to, that's all you have to do, got that? Good, you aren't an actual servant so they can't boss you around. But i'd still like to invite you again."

(Since Jamil likes to dance i'd imagine he has a pretty empty space in the middle of his room, so when he can't get Kalim to take dancing classes he can practice in his room.)

Vil

Originally wanted to take you with him, but decided not to so you could actually relax instead of facing peer pressure.

If he hadn't been as famous, he would have been invited you home without a second thought. Unfortunately he knows his fans, and how they follow his every step, especially when he's going to events.

But he promises to call you at least twice a day, making sure you've eating nutritious meals, wake up in the morning and to wish you goodnight.

He won't respond immediately if you text him, he is busy after all, but he'll answer as soon as he has the time. He's telling you about all the events he's going to, new gossip he heard ext.

If you're absolutely terrible at taking care of yourself, he might even prepare some quick, but healthy, meals and make sure to put them in your line of sight.

"Sweet Potato? Yes it's me, who else call you exactly fifteen minutes before your usual bedtime? I'm joking love, but I hope you remembered to eat real meals today?"

(Chooses to ignore Rook's existence about 60% of the time so he doesn't get creeped out, no matter how used he is to camera's, he still gets a little uncomfy when its Rook)

Rook

Rook had quickly noticed how sad you seemed, but wasted no time finding out why.

When he did it was like his heart was shattered and put back together with your simple words, it was a sad time yet a perfect time. Sad because of his lover's sorrowful being, but just the right time so he could invite you to go with him instead.

To where you ask? My my, it'll be where ever you want to be, traveling for your happiness is the greatest excuse to show of his family's pride and joy!

They have a residence in almost every country, so you're free to pick anywhere and he'll take you there no problem.

He'll take any opportunity to make your face shine in delight, until he can do it as easily as he can shoot with a bow. So maybe don't test him on that.

"Oh, but that's no good, I hate to see such a miserable expression on your face. So tell me Mon Amour, what has you in such a horrible mood today?"

(in his collection of photos, 45% are for Neige 40% for Vil and then the last 5% for other people he found beaute in, mostly you in that 5% though)

Epel

Nuh uh, no way you're staying at NRC, he will not allow it. You are staying with him over winter break, and there's nothing anyone can do to change that.

Though you got invited to Harveston before he could ask his parents, or meemaw, he was 99.8% sure his parents would let you. So maybe if his parents said no... But then he'd stay on campus with you, no way he's letting you be lonely.

...They said yes so fast he didn't even get to explain why.

So now he's running around town with you, showing all the good spots to be and every little corner you can hide in. By the time you go home again you'll know everyone on a first name basis.

But be aware if you're strong looking, or just unlucky, you will be helping out around the orchard, carrying anything and everything.

"See? they agreed to house you, there was no way I would let ya stay at campus alone, that sounds horrible. I was gonna stay here with you if they had said no anyway. Hey I'm being serious!"

(boy def has some built up muscles of some kind underneath his silky uniform, like theres no way the boy who grew up on a farm can't lift, plus he really wants to be manly.)

Bonus!

Since they also cannot go home due to the cold, how will the octavinelle guys cheer up their s/o in turn?

Azul

Azul is almost delighted at the news, until he understands that you are genuinely sad about not going home and having to stay here.

He is so glad he doesn't have to deal with the tweels alone though, and has a good reason to not be in their tomfoolery. No matter how much teasing is going to take place, he finds that better most of the time anyway.

You will have to see him rearrange his desk, closet, and just about everything anytime Floyd enters his bedroom though. Because his things have been taken before, and he does not want to find out what Floyd took/moved a month later.

He'll look through some of the newest coins he has collected with you, trying to find the most valuable and maybe putting it on the wall with the others. This is not an excuse to see your eyes light up a little when you see a pretty one, nope.

Will give you any coin you seem particularly interested in though, no matter if it was the best one he found in months or something that's less valuable than a nickel. He'll even help you put it on a piece of jewelry if you'd like.

You're also going to be joining game night now, but no he won't team up with you since he still would like to win.

Though you will be getting some tips from him, but mostly if Jade has fucked you over to the point he just cant stand looking at your defeated face.

"See this one? It has a design made only for a few years as the person on this side, was taken off the throne a mere year after sitting on it for the first time. It's very rare, this is also the first one I've come across myself."

(he hugs pillows close at night, and no matter how much he tries to get rid of the habit it won't go away)

Jade

He'll invite you over, though be aware that all he talks about in private is fungi and mushrooms. yes you should be used to that, but now you're staying over for more than an hour or just for the night.

Hikes will be what most of his time is spent on, so you'll be coming with him. At least three out of five of the hikes he plans on doing, but he might get you to accompany him on an extra.

Jade is doing his very best to distract you from home, so if you look sad for even a second he'll take you out somewhere, do something to get your mind back from that.

Maybe he'll even make you a drink or two for free, as long as Azul isnt aware of it.

You'll also be joining in on trying to beat Azul in board games, even if you've never played the game before his immediate target for

Would love to join in a every little thing you do, finding it all very intriguing. No matter if it's simple things like how you style your hair, or which clothing piece you put on first. He'll enjoy watching it all, especially likes to see you hug his pillow close when you don't wanna get up.

"You see this one is called 'the prince', otherwise known as Agaricus Augustus. It's a common mushroom in many places and has an almond-like taste. But I would recommend we should try it out around summertime, when it's more in season."

(i dont imagine him liking skin-to-skin contact a lot, but he would 100% watch you sleep and just caress your cheek gently at 2 am)

Floyd

He would rather not see his Shrimpy sad, so you're staying in his and Jade's room now. You'll do lots of fun things with him over winter break!

If you're still a little down about not getting to go home, he'll just carry you away to the kitchen and put you on the counter. You can watch as he makes your favorite dessert, or would you like something else? He's up to cooking up anything for you right now.

Be mindful that you're never going to be separated though, he'll either be right behind you looking into your soul or attached to you like his life depends on it.

Get ready to get teased by his mother, he likes calling her more on winter break. So you're gonna have to endure embarrassment together, all the embarrassing stories are being told now, yay

(i mean there has to exist some kind of waterproof phone for merfolk, i refuse to believe they dont when styx and ortho exist)

Floyd would love to go out in town with you if he feels like it, yes maybe it's not that interesting after you've already looked around, but he can get you all sorts of outfits to dress you up in! You'll have fun, he promises so pleaassseeee.

You're now his human-sized barbie doll, congrats. But seriously, he would love to style outfits on you since there are also more things your size. So yeah he's going to pretty you up in fancy dancy stuff(his words).

Might even have you wear some of his clothes, only to laugh at how big they look on you.

"Come onnn Shrimpyy, don't look at me like that, i know what clothes fit you and make you look pretty. No i didn't mean you arent already pretty, but it will be fun." :<

(He whines A LOT when he loses in card games, but especially when its against Jade)

Thx for reading, love ya! - Masterlist