#but he's not. hanging out with these people he's not having team ups every weekend he's not involving himself in their business all the dam

[philtatosbuck]

you don't think jason deserves to be close with the rest of the family??

do you think he wants to be??

[idontliketomatoesleavemealone]

My heart is beating so hard I’m so pissed about Everything rn

[pin-k-ink]

lazy day // suna rintarou

tw ⇢ friends to lovers, making out, biting, cunnilingus, fingering, praise kink, unprotected sex, begging, multiple orgasms

wc ⇢ 5.7k

The buzzer sounded just after noon, and you grinned as you hit the button to allow Suna entry into your apartment complex's lobby. It was just like any other lazy weekend day when your old friend would swing by to hang out, watch bad movies, and inevitably find some way to engage in your long-running campaigns of relentless shit-talking between fits of laughter.

You had known Suna Rintarou for years now, long enough for any initial awkwardness or uncertainty in his company to have faded away into the well-worn comfort of real friendship. He was one of the few people with whom you could spend hours upon hours just existing in each other's space without it ever feeling stilted or forced.

By the time his trademark dual-toned drawl of "oi, I'm coming in" echoed down the hall toward your door, you were already kicking off your slippers and assuming the usual sprawl across the sofa - ready for an afternoon of pure, familiar vibes. The telltale rap of knuckles against your entry had you calling out for him to enter without bothering to get up and answer it yourself.

When Suna appeared around the corner, he was already looking perfectly at home in your space as usual - stylishly rumpled t-shirt untucked to hang loose over slim athletic shorts that separated to reveal a teasing glimpse of toned thighs and calves with each lazy stride. His hair was artfully mussed as if he'd rolled straight out of bed and onto your doorstep, radiating the type of effortless charisma and striking features that might have made you self-conscious in the presence of someone you knew less intimately.

As it was, you simply quirked an eyebrow at him and reached for the game controller resting on the coffee table. "Looking hopelessly hungover as always, Rintarou," you quipped without missing a beat. "You'd think making the national team would mean they teach you better hydration habits."

"Not all of us slob around in stained sweats every time we have a lazy day," Suna fired back smoothly, dropping down onto the opposite end of the sofa from you with careless grace. His dark, hooded gaze somehow conveyed pointed judgment even as one corner of those perpetually smirking lips quirked higher. "Some of us like to maintain at least a bare minimum of personal standards."

You scoffed loudly, purposefully stretching your legs out to drape obnoxiously across his lap - wiggling your barefeet in his face with a wicked grin. The tip of Suna's nose crinkled with distaste as he tried and failed to shove your ankles away, making no secret of his displeasure.

"Personal standards, my ass," you crowed, taking petty delight in his discomfort. "You're just prioritizing sleazy looks over comfort in a desperate plea for attention, as usual."

When Suna's large hands succeeded in shoving your legs off his lap, it was your turn to grouse in annoyance at having your prime lounging real estate revoked. But you maintained the teasing smirk as you sat up properly and bumped his shoulder with your own.

"Besides, you really think a slob like me even registers on anyone's attractiveness radar? Unlike some posers I could mention."

There was a weighted pause then as your playful ribbing lapsed into something thicker, more weighted. Suna slowly turned to face you more fully, analytical gaze flickering over your features with unmistakable intent. You resisted the urge to squirm under the sudden scrutiny.

"You might be surprised," he said at last, quiet words slicing through the tension with their ambiguous double meaning.

Your breath hitched minutely as you registered the undercurrent of suggestion baked into that simple statement, gaze momentarily dropping to trace the obscene curves of Suna's mouth before flicking hurriedly back to his lidded, piercing stare.

Did he just...? Or was that simply Suna being his usual quietly provocative self, skating the line between casual commentary and subtle flirtation in that masterful way of his? You swallowed hard against the strange spiral of heat that single heavy look had sent unfurling low in your abdomen.

Before you could think better of it, you leaned in closer until the space separating you from Suna's striking features had narrowed into something unmistakably charged. "Is that so?" You heard yourself murmur, holding his gaze boldly despite the sudden thundering of your pulse. "Do tell..."

For a protracted moment, the atmosphere thickened further, both of you suspended in fraught consideration of the intimate boundary you were toying with blurring. Suna's lips parted slightly on an indrawn breath, dark eyes dipping briefly down to your own parted mouth before reconnecting in smoldering lock.

Then the spell was abruptly broken by two things:

First, Suna reaching over to snake the gaming controller from your lax grip, nimble fingers ghosting against yours in a feather-light brush of contact that sent tingles rushing straight down your spine. The second was the low, sandpaper-rough rasp of his tone undercutting the heavy tension with a teasing edge.

"You wish you knew," he murmured, lips curving into one of those signature smirks that could make your insides clench with how arresting it looked painted across those striking features. "I'd shatter that simple mind of yours into a million pieces."

He accompanied the provocative statement with a slow, pointed once-over of your dumbstruck form that had heat prickling across your skin anew.

"Now quit hogging the controls, or I'll wipe the floor with your score like always."

Just like that, the heavy atmosphere seemed to evaporate - replaced by the comfortable cadences of well-worn camaraderie and low-stakes competition. Except this time there was an undercurrent of heightened awareness that refused to dissipate completely no matter how much you tried to will it away.

You found yourself hyper-focused on little things like the brush of Suna's bare arm against your own each time he shifted position, or the deep timbre of his voice sending subtle vibrations across your hypersensitive nerve endings whenever your bodies drifted too close on the couch. Even something as innocuous as the shifting of muscles in his shoulders and biceps as he maneuvered the game controller was enough to set your pulse fluttering with a strange, avid sort of attention.

Suna, damn him, seemed to barely register the newfound tension singing through your form as he remained focused on trying to narrate over the gameplay with that usual brand of cutting snark and obscenely bitten-off curses. His posture was deceptively relaxed as he slouched back into the cushions in that effortlessly sensual way of his, clearly still operating under the assumption that this was just another routine hang session.

But for you...nothing felt quite so pedestrian any longer. Not after you'd both tiptoed up to the precipice of that scorching new intimacy and gotten a tantalizing glimpse of the unfamiliar vistas lying in wait on the other side. You were profoundly, viscerally aware of Suna's nearness in a way that neutered all compulsions to keep viewing him in that safe, established light of long-time platonic companionship.

Instead, you kept finding yourself helplessly drinking in details and dynamics you'd allowed yourself to overlook or take for granted until now. The long, sinewy lines of his neck tapering into sharp, defined collarbones that disappeared tantalizingly beneath the scooped collar of his shirt. The hypnotic flex and release of biceps tensing beneath bronzed skin during particularly intense bouts of trash-talking over the game.

Oftentimes your straying gaze would stray further, taking the opportunity to indulge in dragging your heavy-lidded stare across the lean, powerful expanse of Suna's exposed abdomen - admiring the cuts of muscle etched there beneath a thin sheen of perspiration and imagining how those ridges would feel branding against your palms, your inner thighs...

Inevitably, you would tear your hooded eyes away with shuddering inhalation, a pulse of molten heat lancing straight to your core and leaving a dull, liquid ache throbbing between your legs. This was your oldest friend you were ogling like a piece of meat here - someone whose physical form you should have long since adjusted to seeing in every context without a scintilla of indecent thoughts intruding.

Yet damned if the newfound promise of intimacy sparked between you earlier hadn't set your subconscious reproductive drive into painfully heightened sensitivity - tuned to appreciate the eroticism and aesthetic of Suna's gloriously honed body down to its most minute, tantalizing details. Of course, he seemed utterly oblivious to the roiling conflict of compulsions making itself known in your ungoverned lapses from nonchalant coolness into burning longing.

That is...right up until one of those heated lapses in your focus resulted in you reflexively licking your lips while drinking in the sensual view of Suna's arms - lean but corded with flexing sinew - as he delivered a particularly searing verbal takedown of your lamentable gaming session.

To your bright shock and dismay, those richly hooded eyes you found so aesthetically arresting captured the motion instantly. You watched with frozen tension as Suna's trash-talking trailed off mid-sentence, lips parting with the unmistakable glimmer of realization flickering through his turbulent stare as it tracked your own molten regard.

Pinned speechless under the escalating weight of that unmasked look, you could do nothing as the heavy seconds stretched out and your respective roles - that of long-time best friends just hanging and fucking around, grew increasingly tenuous. There was no mistaking the shift of energy between you as Suna reached up to run a hand through his tousled hair, casually showcasing the flex and drag of his long, strong fingers through dark strands in a strangely intimate pantomime.

"Having trouble concentrating?" he husked out at last, sotto voce inflection bearing enough blatant suggestion to stoke the rapidly kindling blaze of lust now roaring in your lower belly to an outright conflagration. You watched, dry-mouthed and transfixed, as his tongue darted out to trace the plush curves of his lower lip - mirroring your own subconscious gesture of yearning just moments earlier.

When you managed a fractional shake of your head, voice failing you utterly, you saw clear flashes of intent and scorching arousal blaze to vivid life in the glittering depths of Suna's heavy-lidded gaze. The game controller tumbled abandoned to the floor as he prowled forward until his long, muscular frame was hovering bare inches from your own tingling, heated skin. You could feel the erratic puffs of his breath fanning across your slackened features as he drank in the sight of you utterly enthralled.

"Then let me help you focus..." Suna rasped against your searing skin, mouth a hair's breadth from yours. Any further protests, any attempts at maintaining propriety or equilibrium, fled before the promise of rapture blazing in that final, weighted moment between you.

His lips ghosted your own in a barely-there touch, igniting every hyper-sensitive stretch of nerve endings until all that existed was the liquid, throbbing maelstrom of your mutual wanting. When you unconsciously lurched forward to seal the contact between you with a desperate whine...

Suna didn't give you a chance to fully close the infinitesimal distance between your parted, yearning lips. With a low, guttural sound of impatient arousal, he surged forward - broad palms cradling your face with surprising gentleness even as his mouth came crashing down over yours in a searing, demanding kiss.

The contact was electric, whiteout pleasure jolting down your hyper-sensitized nerves at the initial slick glide of Suna's tongue licking insistently against the seam of your lips. You parted for him on a breathless keen, finally surrendering fully and allowing him to plunder the molten recesses of your mouth in a dizzying spiral of dominance and desperation.

His kiss was every bit as intense and consuming as you'd allowed your treacherous fantasies to envision during all those stolen heated glances from the corners of your eyes - an unhurried, sensual cyclone of lips, teeth, and questing tongue that rapidly had your fingers fisting into the soft fabric of his shirt simply to keep yourself grounded. When the first rumbling groan of appreciation vibrated from Suna's chest into the trembling hollows of your own, you thought you might shatter apart from the intoxicating onslaught.

It was a struggle to maintain even a modicum of coordinated thought with the blazing distraction of Suna's mouth doing such punishing, profane things to your senses. But you were somewhat aware of one broad palm sliding down from where it had been cradling the nape of your neck to splay hotly across the span of your lower back. Then deeper still until thick fingers found the generous swell of your ass and kneaded the yielding flesh there with insolent possession and need.

That proprietary caress sent a giddy spiral of heat lancing straight to your core. You whimpered in a haze against the velvet glide of Suna's tongue undulating so wickedly against your own and arched instinctively, pressing your chest harder against the hard ridges of his own as you unconsciously sought more unbearable friction.

Suna made a low, hungry sound deep in his throat at the wanton motion and the sensation of your lithe form writhing so feverishly in counterpoint to his dominance. His hand momentarily abandoned its thorough exploration of every lush curve to instead fist convulsively against your throat, barring your arching retreat and binding you in the scalding, breathless cavern of his devouring kiss.

You moaned outright at the borderline-aggressive display of appetite and possession, shuddering as your body responded with another involuntary wave of liquid heat gushing between your clenching thighs. Every raw instinct was howling for you to twine yourself around the hot, unyielding lines of Suna's powerful physique until you were effectively immobilized in his embrace, slave to whatever raptures he deemed to inflict upon your senses.

But before you could even muster the coordination to attempt wrapping your legs around his narrow hips and haul him bodily on top of you, Suna tore his mouth away in a ragged gasp. His eyes blazed with an incandescent storm of lust and something darker, more primal - an infinite well of compulsions barely leashed behind adamant ridges of self-control.

In that searing, suspended moment where you both gulped down one ragged breath after another, Suna's gaze was like a physical caress - scorching a lascivious path across every one of your features rendered feverish and dewy from the intensity of his kisses. His fingers continued kneading insistently against your nape, every teasing scrape of calloused fingertips sending sparking waves of blissful torment arcing down your sensitized nerves.

"Don't even think about stopping now," Suna growled against the swollen crest of your bottom lip before sucking the tender flesh between his teeth in a sharp nip that wrenched an inarticulate sound of desperation from you. "We're just getting started."

True to his word, the next searing collision of your mouths dissolved whatever remaining shreds of propriety or restraint had still persisted between you. Any concept of stopping things before they spiraled into outright debauchery simply evaporated under the unholy lashings of Suna's relentless, all-consuming passion.

He seized you by the hips and simply hauled you forward until your heated bodies were flush together, legs hopelessly tangled as he proceeded to lay an scorching path of biting kisses down your jawline and throat. Your head lolled back in blind rapture, both hands burying convulsively into Suna's thick, sweat-dampened locks as he nibbled and sucked at the vulnerable juncture where your pulse rabbited beneath silken flesh.

Every nerve in your body was strumming with fiery need, skin prickling and hypersensitive as if lying exposed against the blazing desert sands at high noon. Each scrape of Suna's teeth and calloused caresses felt like molten brands in their wake, driving both of you towards a fever pitch of outright delirium that was rapidly proving insurmountable.

All the while, the cavalcade of filthy compliments and growled encouragements continued to pour from Suna's lips between each punishing new worship against your skin - each one more scandalizing than the last in their absolutely shameless appreciation of your rapidly-overheating senses. You could only keen and writhe shamelessly in return, far too intoxicated by the storm of sensations to offer any coherent responses beyond breathless mewls of blissed-out acquiescence.

"So fucking gorgeous like this...hot and desperate and ready for me to take you apart," Suna husked against the swollen peaks of your nipples – which had hardened into insistent buds clearly visible through the thin cotton of your shirt at some point during the proceedings.

He raked his sharpened canines over the taut fabric in deliberate torment, drinking in the way your back arched convulsively at the electric sensation with that same burning stare from beneath hooded lids. When his broad palms shoved the thin barrier of material aside to finally bare your sensitized breasts to his scorching mouth, you cried out in wordless bliss...only to find your raptures muffled against the searing, eager crush of Suna's lips an instant later.

He swallowed down every cry and whimper with a ravenous hunger, his dexterous tongue twining sinuously with your own even as his broad palms continued to knead and toy with the heaving mounds of your chest with wanton greed. You couldn't remember the last time you'd been so utterly lost to the throes of pleasure - your entire being consumed by the scalding slide of lips, tongues, and questing fingers against the heated contours of your quivering body.

When Suna's teeth caught and pinched sharply against one erect nipple, you nearly shattered apart from the overwhelming sensation. Your inner walls clenched reflexively, a fresh flood of molten heat pulsing through your core as your hips rocked helplessly in a desperate search for more stimulation.

Suna swore raggedly at the way you moaned and shivered in his arms, the low, graveled rasp of his voice resonating straight down your spine and making the aching void between your thighs spasm. In one fluid motion, he released his possessive hold on your abused, spit-slick nipples to instead grip the waistband of your sweats.

The thin cotton and cotton panties beneath were summarily dragged down your thighs, leaving you utterly exposed and panting with wanton anticipation. You felt rather than saw Suna's heated gaze sweeping across the naked planes of your body, taking in the full glory of your quivering thighs spread wide and the glistening slick of desire staining the plump folds of your cunt.

When he reached up and traced a long, calloused finger down the glistening seam of your weeping slit, you nearly sobbed at the exquisite feeling of relief - arching wantonly against his questing hand and grinding your sensitive clit against his knuckles in a bid for more friction. Suna's nostrils flared as he watched you writhe wantonly against his palm, dark eyes blazing with unrestrained need as they roved hungrily across every inch of flushed skin laid bare for him to see.

"Fucking look at you...all hot and needy, just begging for it," he rasped, his voice gone husky and thick with lust. You watched, breath hitching as he slowly raised his hand to his face and dragged the wet fingers that had been stroking and teasing your soaked folds across his full, swollen lips.

Then, holding your rapt, stunned stare, he dipped his head forward and slowly licked the slick coating off his digits in one deliberate swipe. Your stomach clenched with arousal at the erotic sight, the sound of his appreciative hum at your taste sending a fresh gush of wetness to slick the sensitive folds between your legs.

"And you taste like a fucking dream..." Suna murmured, the corner of his lips quirking as he registered the fresh rush of moisture that had spilled out at his salacious gesture. He gave you one last slow, deliberate drag of his fingers along your pulsing seam, savoring the way you squirmed and trembled against the delicious friction.

Then his dark, predatory gaze snapped up to lock with your own as his broad hands came up to grip the backs of your knees and shove them wide. You couldn't hold back a shuddering gasp at the sudden motion, your entire body flushing with renewed heat as you realized how shamelessly exposed and vulnerable you were to Suna's piercing regard.

"Gonna eat you out until you can't even remember your name," he vowed, the rough edge of lust saturating his low drawl sending a fresh, giddy rush of desire spiking through your overheated senses. You could only moan in reply, eyes fluttering closed as his palms slid up the inside of your trembling thighs, thumbs teasing the sensitive creases where leg met pelvis before trailing across your swollen folds.

Then his long fingers were spreading you obscenely open for him, and you were suddenly drowning in the most exquisite, mind-melting pleasure as his hot, insistent tongue swept along your soaked slit. Every nerve ending seemed to spark to vivid life under the dizzying onslaught, your whole world shrinking to the scorching, sinful drag of Suna's mouth against the swollen petals of your cunt.

He licked and sucked at your drenched core with wanton greed, lapping up the fresh surge of wetness that had spilled forth from the erotic sight and sound of his own lewd devotions. When his agile tongue finally found its way up to circle around the taut bud of your clit, you keened and bucked wantonly against his mouth, all sense of modesty and dignity erased in the all-consuming firestorm of your shared arousal.

Suna moaned in appreciation at the shameless display, the vibrations reverberating straight down your hypersensitized flesh and sending another pulse of molten heat throbbing through your molten core. He wrapped his arms around your thighs and hauled you closer, locking your writhing body against the unyielding, scalding heat of his own and burying his face ever deeper against your dripping cunt.

There was no room left for coherent thought as Suna proceeded to lap and suck at your swollen, sensitive folds, the wet sounds of his tongue gliding through your slick folds and the wanton, broken moans escaping from your lips combining into a symphony of lust. The rhythmic drag of his talented tongue was relentless, the wicked suction of his mouth almost painful in its perfection.

Each new surge of pleasure had you writhing harder against Suna's merciless ministrations, the tension building at the base of your spine threatening to snap any moment. Just when the pleasure was reaching its zenith, the tip of his tongue suddenly plunged inside your aching entrance, thrusting in deep and hard to lap at the silken inner walls of your weeping core.

The feeling of his velvety tongue probing so deeply into the tight, grasping depths of your cunt was all it took to send you tumbling over the edge, the orgasm exploding through your senses with an intensity that left you seeing stars. Your head fell back against the cushions as you thrashed and cried out, fingers burying themselves once more into the thick tangle of Suna's hair as you rode his tongue through the searing aftershocks.

Only once the last shudders of ecstasy had faded did he release his punishing grip on your thighs, allowing your body to sag against the cushions as you fought to regain equilibrium. When you finally managed to crack open a bleary eye, it was to find him hovering over you, the sharp angles and planes of his features softened into a rare, genuine smile.

You could feel the warm puff of his breath caressing the skin of your cheek as he leaned closer, the subtle scent of his musk and sweat mingling with the more potent aroma of your combined arousal. Then his lips were ghosting feather-light against yours, the soft brush sending little jolts of residual electricity through your already sensitized nerve endings.

"I'll be honest," Suna murmured, the raspy edge to his voice somehow making the simple words sound indecent and erotic. "I never imagined that would happen, but fuck, it was even hotter than I could've hoped for. How about you?"

When you didn't respond immediately, his hooded eyes searched your features and a slow, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Still speechless? I must have really done a number on you then."

The teasing quip was accompanied by the sudden brush of a calloused palm trailing a scorching path up your thigh, coming to a stop right at the junction where hip met pelvis. You shuddered and tried to summon up the brainpower to fire off a suitably witty retort, only to end up moaning instead when two long, dexterous fingers suddenly slid against your drenched core.

Suna chuckled, clearly pleased by the reaction, and leaned closer to murmur against the shell of your ear. "But I'm not done with you yet," he husked, punctuating the statement by thrusting those questing digits up into your slick channel, causing a fresh wave of molten heat to flood your aching walls.

You gasped at the sudden invasion, inner muscles clenching and fluttering around the thick intrusion as the rest of Suna's weight settled over your trembling form. He hooked his fingers deep, dragging his knuckles along your tender inner walls in a sinfully decadent motion that made your toes curl.

"Fuck, you're tight," he groaned, his voice dropping to a rough growl that sent an answering throb straight down to the apex of your thighs. You felt his teeth catch against the sensitive skin below your ear, biting down gently and eliciting a fresh shiver of arousal. "And you're going to feel even tighter around my cock..."

His fingers twisted and curled again, setting off another cascade of sparks behind your eyelids. A wanton moan spilled from your lips, only to be stifled as Suna's tongue plunged into the cavern of your mouth. He kissed you deep and wet and filthy, letting you taste the heady musk of your own arousal on his lips.

When the kiss finally broke, you were both gasping for air, the air thick with the scent of sex and pheromones. Suna's dark eyes were blown wide with lust, his cock throbbing and heavy against the soft curve of your belly. You could feel his heartbeat thundering in his chest, his skin slick with sweat as he pressed against you, trapping you against the couch cushions.

"I'm going to fuck you now," he rasped, the raw desire in his tone sending another bolt of liquid heat pooling in your core. His fingers were still buried deep, stretching you open with slow, deliberate thrusts that had your back arching and toes curling with each delicious slide.

"God, please..." you moaned, unable to help yourself. It was all too much and not enough, the sensation of being filled and stretched so thoroughly sending shivers of pleasure racing up and down your spine. You could feel another orgasm building in the pit of your stomach, your whole body tightening with anticipation.

Suna's gaze was burning, his lips curled in a smug smirk as he watched your reactions. His fingers worked in and out of you, twisting and curling in a torturous rhythm that had you keening and squirming beneath him.

"Please what?" he purred, voice dripping with smugness and lust. You couldn't believe how utterly wrecked you sounded, your words a garbled mess of pleading and desire.

"Please, Suna, I need you...need to feel you inside me..."

A low, feral sound rumbled in his chest, the vibration resonating throughout his powerful frame and sending a fresh shiver down your spine. His free hand slid up to cup your jaw, the pad of his thumb tracing over your parted, swollen lips.

"Good girl," he murmured, the praise sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. He withdrew his fingers slowly, savoring the way you shuddered and whimpered at the loss. Then he reached down, gripping his throbbing length and sliding it along your dripping folds.

"Let me hear you scream my name when I fuck you senseless."

And with that, he plunged into you in a single, fluid stroke. Your head fell back against the pillows, a cry of bliss ripping from your throat as his thick cock filled you, stretching you open with his girth. You could feel him throbbing inside you, his heartbeat matching yours as he buried himself to the hilt.

Suna's breathing was ragged, his pupils blown wide with desire as he looked down at you. His hips rolled, grinding his cock against your aching walls, drawing out a strangled moan. He set a slow, deep rhythm, the slide of his shaft dragging along every inch of sensitive tissue in your core.

Your hands came up to clutch at his broad shoulders, nails digging into the taut muscle and sinew there as you struggled to hold on. Suna's eyes were locked on yours, his expression intense as he fucked you with steady, measured thrusts. His teeth caught your bottom lip, the sudden pain sending a jolt of pleasure racing down your spine.

You could feel the pressure building again, your entire body tightening like a coiled spring. The heat in the pit of your stomach was growing more intense, a liquid heat coursing through your veins. Every thrust of Suna's cock was driving you closer and closer to the edge, the delicious friction setting your nerves on fire.

You could feel the pressure mounting, the tension in your lower belly drawing taut until it was almost unbearable. Suna's hips rolled, grinding his cock against the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs.

"Fuck!" you cried, the sound muffled against the hot press of his mouth.

"That's right, sweetheart," he groaned, his pace picking up as he drove into you. "Come for me. Come for me, and I'll fill you up nice and deep."

The filthy promise was enough to tip you over the edge. You shattered around him, pleasure ripping through you like a tidal wave. Your muscles clenched around him, your inner walls rippling around his cock.

Suna grunted, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his own release. He fucked you through your orgasm, his hips pistoning furiously as he sought his own. His eyes were squeezed shut, his lips parted as he neared the edge.

Suddenly, his entire body stiffened, a shudder running through him as his cock twitched and jerked inside you. Warmth flooded your core as he came, his seed filling you. The feeling of his hot spend inside you, marking you, was enough to trigger a second orgasm, your body writhing beneath him as you rode the wave of pleasure.

Suna's arms wrapped around you, his breathing ragged as he buried his face in your neck. You clung to him, fingers digging into his skin as you both fought to catch your breath. After what felt like an eternity, the haze of ecstasy began to recede, the reality of the situation settling in.

As the euphoric afterglow gradually ebbed away, a wave of disorientation crashed over you - leaving you struggling to reconcile the sudden shift in dynamics between you and your best friend. It didn't help that Suna still had you pinned beneath his lean, muscular frame, his cock softening inside you as his labored breaths continued to fan across your cheek.

Your mind was still reeling from the unexpected turn the evening had taken, and you could feel the telltale prickle of anxiety beginning to creep along the fringes of your consciousness. Before you could fully descend into the familiar spiral of self-doubt and regret, Suna lifted his head, pinning you in place with that same piercing gaze.

"Don't start getting weird on me now," he drawled, the lazy rasp to his voice doing little to mask the thread of steel underlying the warning. You blinked owlishly, trying and failing to gather enough wits about you to formulate a coherent response.

"Wha–"

"I said," he interjected, voice dropping into that low, authoritative purr that somehow managed to send a fresh jolt of desire shooting straight to your core despite the lingering fatigue weighing down your limbs. "Don't start getting weird on me, or I'll fuck that anxious little look right off your face."

When you gaped up at him in slack-jawed disbelief, Suna smirked.

"Just giving you a taste of what's coming if you start to doubt me. And this." His hand swept down the length of your body in a possessive caress, eliciting a sharp hiss of pleasure-pain as the rough calluses on his palm scraped over your abused nipples. "What we've just done here is just the start, and I can guarantee it'll only get more intense from here on out. So keep that in mind before you go and ruin a perfectly good post-orgasmic cuddle with that self-deprecating shit."

"But..." you protested weakly, struggling to find some kind of anchor in the midst of the chaos. "How do you even know I was about to...?"

Suna snorted, the derisive sound managing to convey exactly how stupid he found the question. "You've been my best friend for how long now? You think I don't know your anxious ticks and tells by now?"

He leaned in closer, the dark glimmer in his eyes sending a fresh shiver of apprehension and anticipation down your spine. "But that's all the more reason to trust me when I say it's going to be fine. You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this – how long I've wanted you, and this is only the beginning."

The confession stunned you, your eyes widening as a new surge of emotion rose up in your chest. Your heart fluttered, a giddy warmth flooding through your veins and making your toes curl with delight. Suna's expression softened at the sight, the faintest hint of a smile curving his lips.

"See? That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Before you could formulate a response, his mouth slanted over yours, the slow, sinuous glide of his tongue against yours banishing any remaining doubts and fears in a wash of pure bliss. Your eyelids fluttered closed, your body melting bonelessly against his as you surrendered to the exquisite sensation.

When the kiss finally broke, Suna was wearing that infuriating, smug grin you'd come to associate with the most devastating, game-changing wins. You glared at him half-heartedly, unable to maintain the act for more than a few seconds under the force of his knowing stare.

"I hate you," you muttered, even as you wound your arms around his neck and buried your face in the crook of his shoulder. Suna chuckled, his fingers carding soothingly through the tangled strands of your hair.

"I love you too, sweetheart. Now, how about we get cleaned up and then we can continue this in your bedroom?"

[cheriladycl01]

Kinktober 18/10/2024 Max Verstappen - Mutual Masturbation

Plot: You and Max too tired to actually do anything, decide that mutual masturbation is the way to go after a tricky race weekend.

Warnings: Kinktober, SMUT, mutual masturbation, fingering, handjob, 18+ Minors DNI

You and Max were a very clingy couple, it was rarer to see you not at a race weekend than to see you at one. You were always there supporting Max and cheering him on, and for the most part you guys had loads of energy interacting with fans and being helpful to the team.

However triple-headers normally took it out of you both, especially ones where it was far travel in between and maybe some time zone difference.

But you always supported Max.

You were there though his highest highs and his lowest lows and that just so happened to be today. A very low low. It was Max worst performance in his career. There wasn’t great communication, the car didn’t feel right and Max had struggled the whole race, not moving up any places from his Qualifying Result of P11.

He’d gotten no points, and ended up behind Yuki Tsunoda who’d defended from him brilliantly for the entire race.

When Max came out, after driving the car for 2 hours and all of the media commitments and team jobs he had to conduct afterwards you both got on his private jet pretty done with the day.

You got home to Monaco, and you were both really silent which was kinda rare for Max. Despite what most people think this man can talk for hours, especially to you when you are such a good listening and love the sound of his husky and burnt sort of voice when he spoke both English and Dutch.

You guys had a routine that was never changed no matter how tired you guys were once you got back from a race weekend.

Step one: Get the cases into the house.

Step two Part A: Max separates clean from dirty into piles

Step two Part B: You take the shoes and toiletries and dish them out to where they need to go.

Step three Part A: Max puts a wash on

Step three Part B: You take the clean clothes up and hang them in the wardrobe or fold into draws.

Step four Part A: Max hoovers, Jimmy and Sassy, and then your British Shorthair Lila have all been there moulting in the summer heat.

Step four Part B: You wash out the cat bowls and place down new food

Step five: Make dinner together

And that was how you always did it. You always each took those chores and got on with them. Usually you spoke to each other across the apartment while you were doing it but this time a comfortable silence was with you apart from the cat interruptions every now and then.

After that you guys let the dishes in the sink before alternating showering and getting ready for bed. You both climbed into the fresh bed with the nice sheets rather than the hotel sheets that regardless of the hotel rating always seemed to make you feel kind of odd.

Usually at this stage Max would turn on a film before fucking you into the bed, you clutching into the pillow that your face is smushed against while he thrusts in and out of you deeply.

But tonight with how silent the pair of you were it was obvious neither of you had the energy to fully commit to that.

“Schatz…” he says softly and you look away from the film he’d just put on opposite you bed, a classic you’d watched many times that was sort of just background noise.

“Mmmmmm? What is it?” You smile at him kindly, pulling the quilt up around you some more.

“Well, I just thought that maybe we could relieve some tension” he says still just as softly, a quiet hint to his voice. You almost groan not having the energy to get in top and ride him, which usually happened after these race weekends as his legs, back and arms were physically just as tired as his mind was.

“Argh baby not tonight … I know usually I’m more energetic but I can’t tonight” you say looking at him with a guilty look and he turns away with a flushed and embarrassed look on his face.

“Oh- okay” he says nodding and tucking the cover over him.

You guys sit and watch the film, you lean into him his arm loosely coming behind you as you naturally pulls yourself in closer to him. After the day of silence it was nice just embracing one another in bed.

“Hey I’m sorry I just have no energy tonight it’s not you” you say reaching out to hold his hand that’s above the blanket but knock against something hard causing him to moan out.

You lightly pull the covers away seeing him rock solid underneath. He tries to pull the covers back up, but your grip is strong.

“Max baby why didn’t you say” you try to stifle your laugh.

“Because your not in the mood and we’re both too tired” he sighs pressing his legs together and trying to alleviate the growing need down low.

“How about something else baby, it won’t take up too much energy from either of us” you whisper helping him pull his boxers down seeing his whole dick spring up and slap his bear stomach. He moans as the cold air hits him and you use your hand going up and down.

“Ah ah ah” he moans.

“Now you take over baby” you say and he does taking himself in his hand. Your hand goes into your underwear teasing your clit the way you knew you liked. Your fingers rub against that nub and you moan.

“Fuck Max” you moan and look to your left to look at him only to see him already looking at you. His eyes travel from your eyes down to where your fingers enter your dripping wet core.

You reach out a hand as you hear the fapping sound that Max is making with his fist tightening around his length and going quicker the more you moan.

“So pretty Schatz, fuck lemme see pull them panties off” he groans and you do as your told pulling them off and chucking them to the end of the bed. You spread your legs show Max your fingers thrusting in and out, a scissoring motion as you feel the spongey wall. You free hand reaches out gripping Max thighs as your mouth drops open, you repeating his name as you can feel the coil build up further and further.

His free hand reaches down and starts to rub circles on your clit as he tightens his grip on his own dick going faster than before.

“Fuck Schatz, such a good idea” he moans as before you know it he’s cumming, the stream hitting his lower stomach as his hips lightly lurch up. You cum shortly after him, the release making you relax back into the pillows.

“I think that should be our new go too” he groans, taking tissue from the bedside table cleaning himself up.

“When we’re tired?” You ask with a nod.

“Whenever, that was really hot” he smiles before pulling you into a kiss.

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[sitepathos]

From Gold to Mold

Chapter 3: The End (Warning: this will be dark. Read at your own risk)

The last bell of the day rings, letting everyone know that they’re free to go. In unison, your classmates begin shoving books and papers in their designer book bags before getting up and flooding the exit all at once. People begin to pair up with their friends, talking about hanging out and staying over at one another’s house for the weekend, but as usual, you’re left by yourself; when you first enrolled in GA, many students wanted to be your friend, but you could tell they were more interested in Bruce Wayne being your father than you because they talked more about Bruce than you. When Tim became Timothy Drake-Wayne, everyone flocked to him, starstruck that he was now a member for two of Gotham’s most elite families. Since you lack Bruce’s good looks and charisma, Dick’s athletic prowess, Jason’s brute strength, Tim’s intelligence, and Damian’s pure pedigree, everyone here has deemed you unworthy of a passing glance; you’re painfully average in every aspect and in a family as prestigious and remarkable as Gotham’s beloved Wayne Family, that’s an unforgivable sin.

It didn’t matter to you, though. You didn’t care that no one in school or in your “family” acted like you didn’t exist and think you unworthy of a fraction of their attention, you had your video games. When the silence of Wayne Manor became deafening to you, you had your faithful 3DS with multiple generations of teams full of loyal and strong Pokémon that have defeated the mightiest of champions and your preowned laptop that’s allowed you to play a wide variety of games, your favorite being Fallout New Vegas as it took place in your rightful home of Nevada and started off in your beloved Goodsprings. You’ve gone through countless playthroughs because you feel close to your childhood home, no matter how many times you go through the same dialogue options and quests.

In fact, video games have been a major influence on you that you’re determined to be an indie video game developer when you finally graduate. Your laptop isn’t too old to run a visual novel maker software that came out four years ago and you spent over a year scribbling away in a notebook that held all the details that would form your first game, staying up late for three months working on the plot alone and the remaining nine months on side quests, combat, dialogue, and everything else. Despite your best efforts, you’re not an artist like Damian (and how ironic that someone so spiteful like him has the gift to create beauty) or a musician, so the only thing you’re able to work on right now is the code, but you’re not tech smart like Tim so it’s full of bugs and errors and despite you following your Guide to Making Video Games book to the letter, the code just won’t do what you want it to do. With spring break around the corner, maybe you’ll be able to make progress on it.

As you step through the front door of the school, you see Damian and Tim being dragged into a bear hug by Dick, the little shit quickly breaking free; Dick laughs and ruffles his hair before all of them getting into the older man’s car and drive off, leaving you behind. That’s nothing unusual, though, Dick’s always picked up the two of them from school and you know they always go get ice cream or go to an arcade while you get left behind to find your own way home. You’ve never been offered a ride to or from school or asked if you’d want to go hang out with them and with how they’ve treated you over the years, you’d sooner have a tea party with the Mad Hatter before you ever got in a car with any of them. Knowing them, Damian would probably try to strangle you with your seatbelt, Dick would most likely try to guilt you to spend more time with your “brother,” and Tim would just sit there, not saying anything, no matter how wrong their words were or how upset you got.

You’ve been relying on Alfred to give you rides (always a block away from the school since you didn’t want them knowing you were relying on him), but Bruce gave him the month off. He tried to turn it down, of course, insisting that he had important duties at the manor (you knew it was because he was worried about what would happen to you while he was gone), but Bruce insisted. Only after you promised to text him everyday and call him the moment something went wrong did he book a flight to Essex. After taking care of a museum the size of the Smithsonian, taking care of a family full of assholes, and dealing with your emotional baggage, the man deserved to take off and relax for a while.

Since he’s been gone, you’ve used the bus to get to where you need to go and have kept a wide berth between you and the Waynes and so far you’ve managed to stay under their radar. Though, with you not even clocking on their radars, can you really claim such an achievement. Hell, you’re positive they wouldn’t notice you even if you were right behind them. World’s greatest detectives, your ass.

That’s right, you knew about their nightly activities of wearing bird themed costumes, jumping across rooftops, and battling with the demented freaks locked up in Arkham. Not because Alfred told you (and god knows they’d never tell you shit), but because your status as the unwanted and forgotten firstborn of Bruce Wayne is like an invisibility cloak allowing you to walk in plain sight without anyone noticing you and it’s thanks to that you’ve been able to spy on conversations. You’ve come down many times in the late hours of the night to find them sitting at the dining table, eating, talking, laughing, and enjoying their lives as if you don’t even exist. Sure, it hurt you to see them so happy while you sit above them, miserable, what hurt even more was the fact that Alfred didn’t tell you. Sure, you have no intention on joining them in fist fighting Joker or solving the Riddler’s Saw-inspired puzzles (not that you could, you obviously lacked the capabilities), but you thought that after all that they’ve out you through, you were entitled to know what was going on.

But, you know that Alfred is also in on it, providing support from cave under the mansion (that you found after investigating the library while they were all out) and since he’s helped you through the bad times, hugging you tightly white you cried your eyes out, you decided to keep your discovery to yourself. Besides, if the secret ever comes out, you have plausible deniability.

Your phone rings and when you pull it out to check the caller ID, you see a picture of Alfred and you on the screen.

“Hey, Alfred,” you answer.

“Good afternoon, Master Y/N. Did you have a pleasant day at school?”

“I did. Since spring break is next week, the teachers toned down on the lessons.”

“And how did you fare on your algebra test?”

“Fine, I guess,” you mutter. “I’m sure I got more right than wrong.”

Math’s always been your worst enemy (at least until you met Damian) and getting an A on an anything math related was always once in a blue moon. A B was always your goal back in Goodsprings Elementary, but with Gotham Academy being a prestigious institution, their math classes were as difficult as a speed run in Dark Souls. Sure, all your classes are hard, but math has always been your Achilles’ heel.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you prepare for it. Maybe I should come home—“

“No,” you quickly say, cutting him off. “It’s fine. I studied my notes and found some practice problems online. I’m sure I passed.”

There was a brief pause before the man said, “Very well, Master Y/N. If you’re sure. How have you been faring? I trust you’re eating three meals a day and sleeping enough?”

“Of course,” you say. You’re lying, of course. You skip breakfast and dinner since they’re all downstairs at the same time in the mornings and at night use before going out on patrol and only eat lunch at school, where lunch is prepared by five star chefs because their elite students will accept nothing less. As for sleep, you’ve been cramming for this test and trying to work on your game, where as soon as you fix one bug, three more come to take its place.

“Of course,” he says, obviously not convinced, but chooses not to call you out. Not over the phone, anyway. Had he been here in person, it would be a different story. “And how have the others treated you?”

“Like I don’t exist. So, things are status quo.”

“I know their behavior has been nothing less than unacceptable, but have you tried talking to your father? Maybe he’ll be more receptive to you if you approached him while he was alone.”

“We both know that’s not gonna happen, Alfred. Bruce can’t stand the sight of me because I’m his greatest mistake.”

“Master Y/N!”

“It’s true and you know it! Both he and Momma were young and stupid, one thing led to another, and I was their reminder why condoms were invented. He got stuck with me and he’ll never forgive me for that. You know it and I know it.”

His silence tells you he knows you’re right. You hate to say how you really feel since you know that Alfred raised the man after his parents were murdered and telling him things like this makes him feel like he failed as a father figure, but after being treated like shit for most of your life, you’ve really run out of fucks to give. Hell, when you turned eighteen last month, you had your bags packed and were ready to buy a ticket on the first bus to Las Vegas, but Alfred begged you to stay long enough so you could graduate and since it would be a pain in the ass to transfer this close to schools letting out for summer, you agreed. Plus, it’d look good on a resume that you graduated from Gotham Academy. .

“Maybe I could talk to him for you? I just don’t want you to leave hating your father so much.”

“Look, Alfred, I really don’t wanna talk about this. I gotta go, I’ll be late for work.”

“Very well, Master Y/N. Please be safe. You know I hate you being out at night all alone.”

“Don’t worry, I will. Talk to you later, Alfred.”

And with that, you hang up and head to the nearest bus stop to take you to Chinatown. When you turned sixteen, you decided that it wasn’t fair taking Alfred’s money (in your defense, you helped out in cleaning the mansion, but you were still taking his hard earned paycheck), so you went out and found a job working at Gotham Games, a small store in one of the few nicer parts of Gotham that specialized in video, trading card, and tabletop games. Your boss, Mr. Chen, is a sweet old man who loves to talk games with you, especially Pokémon; in fact, he always gives you a free booster pack when he hands you your paycheck, saying that it’s a bonus for doing a good job. You love your job and aside from Alfred always willing to lend an ear to listen to your troubles, it’s made living in this hellhole of a city actually bearable.

After arriving at the bus stop in Chinatown, you walks a few blocks to find Mr. Chen closing the door and locking it.

“Mr. Chen,” you say when you near him, making him turn around to face you.

“You’re always on time, Y/N,” he says with a chuckle, but you can see he’s sad about something.

“Is the store closing for today?”

“No, I’m afraid I’m closing the store for good.”

Your heart stops and you feel yourself losing balance a little and you quickly steady yourself. You quickly think for any reason why the store would be closing for good.

Poor sales? No, you helped Mr. Chen with the spreadsheet for last month and sales had gone up by 11% thanks to the Pokémon TCG tournament you hosted.

Too much theft? No, you keep a close eye on all the customers and last time you checked, all inventory was accounted for.

Threats? Please, Mr. Chen’s been here for twenty-five years and is a pillar of the community. If anyone ever had the dumbass idea to threaten him, all shop owners in the street would rush to his aid, yourself included.

So, why?

As if he read your mind, he says, “My daughter said she was worried about me when the Penguin broke out of Arkham the other day and his car chase with Batman ended when he crashed a block away from here. She said that she and her husband had already set up a room for me at their house and now they’re here to take me with them to Florida.

You remember hearing about that. Bruce devotes all his time to fighting Gotham’s crime problem and one would think all the time he doesn’t spend with you could go to keeping things like car chases with Arkham’s inmates far away from innocent people and their businesses, but guess that’s what you get for having expectations when it comes to Bruce.

“What will happen to the store?”

“Mark’s already taken care of it. He called up some company that owns plenty of stores that’s just like mine and they agreed to buy my entire stock. They’ll have some people here tomorrow to get it all.”

For the second time in your life, it feels like your entire world’s been turned inside out. Working here and being around Mr. Chen was the best thing that’s happened to you since you over to Gotham and with Alfred gone and the loss of your job and boss, you’re extremely tempted to get on the nearest bus and ride it out of Gotham right now.

“I also wanted to wait for you so I could give you this.” He hands you a neatly wrapped box that you just now realize he’d been holding this entire time. “To thank you for keeping an old man company.”

You take the box and with shaky hands, you unwrap it and open the lid to see a pristine aqua blue Game Boy Advance surrounded by several cartridges. When you take a closer look, you see that they’re all Pokémon games, ranging from the original Red and Blue to Red Rescue Team.

“You appreciate the classics and it seemed a shame to let that Game Boy and those games just sit around, collecting dust. Plus, it’s my way of saying thank you for taking care of an old man.”

At this point, you realize you’re crying and can’t help but hug your boss. “Thank you, Mr. Chen.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N. When you move back to Nevada and win big in Vegas, don’t forget to give me a call so we can celebrate.”

You laugh at that and it makes you feel better, but only a little bit. When he promises to call you when he’s set up in Florida and you promise to call him when you’re back in Nevada, you two separate and watch as he gets in his daughter’s car and drive off, waving at him until he’s out of sight.

As you neatly tuck the box into your backpack, you realize that your schedule’s totally fucked up now. Normally, Alfred comes and gets you when you get done working at 7, but with him gone, you’d been using the bus that comes at that time to take you to the closest stop to Bristol and walk the rest of the way to Wayne Manor, but that bus won’t be here for hours. And you’d sooner chew your own arm off before calling any of them for help.

You mull it over for a minute or two before deciding to walk to the nearest stop, hop on the bus, and ride it to as close to Bristol as possible. With the store closed (and your beloved job lost) you can use the time to get ahead on your spring break plans and work on your game, ironing out bugs and working on your art. You pull out your map of Gotham’s bus stops and see the closest station is over in the East End, a place no one with a half working brain cell goes. Still, it’s the closest bus stop and you’ll only be there for a few minutes. You’ve survived Wayne Manor for thirteen years, surely you can deal with Gotham’s trash can for a little bit.

With your mind made up, you make your way to the East End. As you cross into the district, you’re greeted by a group of kids playing Cops and Robber, but instead of cops, one of them plays the role as Red Hood, complete with two stick guns and a red plastic pail on his head. That’s right, East End is Jason’s territory and is well loved by many of the children. The thought of the brute gives you even more incentive to leave the area as fast as possible because you’ve heard Jason yelling at the others for entering the East End because it’s his to protect and he doesn’t want any of them unless it’s a really big emergency and even then, they need his permission. Knowing him, he’ll accuse you of invading and try to fill you full of lead, despite the fact that you’re not a vigilante and he ever pulled his head out of his ass, he’d know that, but you guess that being in a family full of distrust and paranoia has polluted his higher reasoning skills.

The further into the district you get, the closer you hold onto the straps of your book bag. With every step you take, you hear glass shattering, people screaming, and even a gun shot or two, making you regret ever coming here. You should’ve found another bus stop or just found something to kill time until your regular bus showed up. Still, you’ve already come this far and turning around would probably be more dangerous than continuing forward, so you keep your head up high and try to change your stride to be more confident, hoping that appearing more confident would keep people away from you.

You see the bus stop and pick up speed to get there quickly, but just as you get close enough to see the map and schedule, you feel something grab your book bag and you’re quickly yanked backwards. You turn to look behind you to see three men staring down at you and by the way they’re grinning down at you, you can tell this won’t end well for you.

“Well, what’s a little GA snob doin’ here,” one of them sneers.

“Surprised you’re actually walking,” the other jeers. “Thought all you little shits were carried around by your butlers and maids. Too good to use your own legs.”

That little joke actually pissed you off because you’re not like the rest of your classmates who have their private drivers open their car doors when they go to the airport to spend Christmas on their private islands. You aren’t using Bruce’s money to pay for every little thing you see (not that he’d give you any because he’s forgotten you exist), you actually have a job and work hard for your money, damn it!

“Bet there’s someone who’d pay a pretty penny for you,” the man, obviously the leader of the other two, says. “Looks like we’ve hit pay dirt, boys.”

You struggle to break free of their grasp, but the three of them are too strong for you. The leader pulls out a rusty pipe from his back pocket and the last thing you see is said pipe rushing towards your head before everything goes black.

“Wake up, you little bitch,” a gruff voice says as you’re overcome with feelings of sheer cold and wetness.

You open your eyes to find that you’re sitting on n extremely dirty floor. You look up to see a man looking down at you, a sadistic look on his face and a dirty metal bucket in hand. Your mind finally boots back up and you remember being stopped by three dirtbags and being knocked out be a pipe to the head. As if on cue, the memory triggers immense feelings of pain in your head and while you’re no doctor, you’re pretty sure that you have a mild concussion. When the rest of your senses come to, you realize that you’re tied to chair with thick ropes you have no chance of getting out, at least without a knife. Through blurry eyes, you’re able to look around to see you’ve been dragged to some dirty shack and based on what you see through the busted windows nearest to the door, you know two things: that you’ve been dragged to Gotham Woods and you’ve been knocked out for a while.

“Alright, now that you’ve had your beauty sleep, it’s time to get to business.” The leader squats down to your level, an old flip phone in hand. “You’re gonna give us a number we can call to ransom you off. Try any funny business and…” he trails off as he brings out a gun and points it at you. “You won’t live long enough to regret it.”

You hears the words, but all you can focus on is the gun aimed at you. You’ve known Gotham is a dangerous place and going to certain parts of the city at night is practically committing suicide, but you never thought you’d be in this position, where the slightest action or inaction was the difference in sleeping in your bed or being put to rest in a pine box when everything was said and done. Ever since you’d turned eighteen, you’ve kept a tally of how many days you have until you graduate and put this city of the damned behind you and now there’s a good chance you’ll die here, in a city you’ve hated since you were forced to move here.

“Hey,” he says, breaking you out of your stupor. “Number. Now.” He emphasizes his point by waving his gun.

At first, you’re tempted to give him Alfred’s number, knowing the butler would probably come to your rescue and kill these thugs John Wick Style, but you know that they wouldn’t appreciate talking to someone on the other side of the world and right now, you couldn’t take the chance on pissing them off; you need someone here in Gotham and as much as every fiber in your body wants to throw up at once just for even thinking it, you know Bruce is your only hope of making out of this in one piece. Even if he doesn’t care about you, he’ll be able to swoop in and bash in the heads of a bunch of kidnappers, so that should be enough of a reason to bring him here.

“Alright, you can call my father,” you say, the word “father” leaving a bitter taste in your mouth, but right now, you can’t afford to let your hatred for the man get the better of you; not when your life hangs in the balance. You give him the manor’s home phone number, which he dials and puts it on speaker.

You wait with bated break as the phone rings. After the third time, you can feel yourself breaking into a cold sweat and when you look up at one of your captors, you can tell he’s getting angry by the second; with every ring, his scowl gets more and more intimidating and the gun starts to shake in rage.

Finally, after an eternity, you hear someone pick up.

“Hello,” Bruce’s voice comes through, and based on the tone, he sounds pissed. Knowing the time, he was probably getting ready to go out on patrol. Still, you can’t help but feel just a little to relived to hear his voice. You just might make it through the night. “Bruce Wayne speaking.”

“Holy shit, man, we’re about to be rich,” one of the other men whispers to his cohort, who nods in agreement.

“We have your son, Wayne,” the man says with an air of confidence. “Do as we say and you—“

“No, you don’t,” Bruce says, cutting off the man.

“What,” the leader says, the wind obviously taken out of his sails.

“No, you don’t,” Bruce repeats.

“Fuck you mean,’ he shouts. “I’m looking at him right now! Don’t you know you’re missing a brat right now?”

“All my kids are right here with me and I’m none of them are missing,” Bruce says in a matter-of-fact tone that makes your heart stop.

“Did you really think we wouldn’t notice if someone was missing” Dick chimes in.

“Man, you’re fuckin’ stupid,” Jason mocks.

“You’re not the first to fake holding a Wayne for ransom,” Tim explains. “It hasn’t worked before and it won’t work now.”

“If you lowlifes put as much effort into finding a job as you did trying to steal money, you’d be rich,” Damian taunts.

“Wow, you’re a loser,” Cass laughs. “Don’t you have anything better to do with your life? Why don’t you get out of your mom’s basement and go outside to touch grass and maybe talk to a girl.”

They all laugh at that and you can feel your heart just collapse in on itself. Right now, you have a better chance of sprouting wings and flying out of here than this man letting you go after being insulted by every member of the Wayne Family. And based on the fact that his face is as red as a beat, this definitely won’t be for you.

“As you can see, all my children are home, where they should be. I don’t know how much you hoped to get out of this, but you aren’t seeing a dime.”

And with that, the call ends and so does your chances of leaving here in one piece. You always thought that your existence was a complete unknown to them, but to actually see something that proves it? You can’t help but begin to cry, both at how the call went and for the world of hurt you’re no doubt about to experience with your captors.

“Bet you thought that was funny,” the man says as he slowly flips the phone shut, indicating that he’s pissed off beyond words.

You decide that Alfred is the one you should’ve had him call, but before you correct your mistake, you’re filled with pain as he strikes you on the head with the pipe. He hits you again and the force sends the chair tumbling to the floor, but that doesn’t matter to the man; he’s pissed and all he cares for now is hurting you. He’s spouting off insults and threats, but all you can focus on is the immense pain you’re in. He never hits in the same place twice, spreading the pain to your head, arms, torso, and legs. You feel your skin tear, bones break, and blood shed and the pleas you’d been shouting since he began his assault finally die, opting for crying and sounds of pain.

By the time he’s finished, you’re in so much pain, you can barely think. All you want to do is die.

“Hey, look what I found in his bag.” You look up through swollen and blood filled eyes to see one of the other men is holding up your Momma’s pen. “Looks like real gold. Might be worth something.”

After the pen incident three years ago, you’ve lived in constant fear that Damian would take you pen in an act of revenge, so you’ve kept the pen on you at all times, even keeping it under your pillow as you slept, only taking it out when you were in the safety of your room. Up until now, it’s kept your most treasured possession safe, but it looks like it’s about to cost you dearly.

“At least it’s something. Anything else?”

“Naw,” the man responds as he rummages through your bag. “Just the regular school shit, a wallet with a few bucks in it, and…” He pauses before pulling out the box Mr. Chen gave you and opens it. “Holy shit, looks like an old Game Boy! And there’s a bunch of games with it!”

“Is it worth much?”

“Might be able to get something for it. A bunch of collectors out there looking for shit like this. Couldn’t hurt to check around.”

“Haven’t seen one of those in years,” the last man chimes in. “Had one when I was a kid. Someone stole it, though. Hey, if we can’t get much of it, can I keep it?”

“Not now, Butch,” the leader growls. “Batman’s busy dealing with that clown bustin’ outta Arkham and all we got out of this is a lousy pen and a stupid video game.” He looks down at you. “Since you didn’t give us a name to ransom you off to, guess no one’ll care if you go missing.”

He picks his gun up and aims it at you. You feel your heart skip a beat at the sight of staring down the barrel of a gun aimed at you.

“No, please,” you beg, struggling to spit out the words as you’re so badly hurt, it’s a miracle you’re able to talk at all, but right now, all that matters is that you do what ever it takes to survive this.

“What’re we gonna do with the body,” one of the men asks.

“There’s the chasm near Mt. Gotham,” the one called Butch says. “That thing goes down for miles. We dump him in there and not even Batman’ll find him.”

Is this how it ends? After everything you’ve gone through, you die from being shot by three thugs in the forest and you’re thrown in a big ditch like a trash bag when you’re so close to leaving this damn city behind. You try to open your mouth to say something, anything that will at least buy you a few more minutes, but whatever you wanted to say is drowned out by the flash of a muzzle and the bang of a gunshot.

Your world goes to black.

A/N: Sorry, we were a little under for on cliffhanger quota, so we had to up production. The original plan was to split this chapter into two, with the kidnapping at the end of the first and the shooting at the end of the second, but with October upon us, I think things are going to get really crazy for me this semester, so I decide to be merciful (this time) and make one big chapter that only has one cliffhanger. Enjoy the wait for the next chapter! Also, if you asked to be added to the tag list and don’t see your name, I promise it’s not because I didn’t do it on purpose, but because when I went to tag you, Tumblr didn’t find your blog. I always check twice before uploading a new chapter to ensure everyone who asked to be tagged has been added.

Tag List: @space1crow @bat1212 @minkyungseokie @solelifauna @nosyrobin @bunbunboysworld @kitty-from-daaaa-voidddd @feral-childs-word @l0serl0v3r @phoenixgurl030 @soriansick

[vivwritesfics]

Padawan Learner

Mrs Vettel, ex Williams driver, current McLaren driver, can't drive while pregnant. Although she's contracted until 2026, she can't drive while she's with child. But she can't stay away from racing, and can't help but take the Williams rookie under her wing.

Sebastian Vettel x Reader, (Platonic) Logan Sargeant x Reader

Warnings: Brief description of smut

She wasn't supposed to retire at the same time as her husband. He felt as if he was at the end of his career and there was nothing more he could offer to the sport, so he retired. He'd had his glory years in Red Bull, moved to Ferrari, every racers dream, and ended things in Aston Martin, alongside his wife's old teammate.

She still had more race left in her. She'd been with Williams for years, racing alongside Valteri Bottas, Lance Stroll, George Russell, and, later, Alex Albon. But then she moved to McLaren, a team she felt would help her fight for wins.

Her husband very thoroughly celebrated the beginning of his retirement. She found herself stuffed full of cum almost every day of winter break.

It shouldn't have been a surprise when they got pregnant. But she wanted to murder Sebastian. For all of five seconds she wanted to drown him in their pool. But, after that five seconds passed, she was overjoyed, wrapping her arms around Sebastians neck and pulling him in for a kiss.

She told McLaren and they pulled Oscar Piastri in for the year. That was how he got his first drive in F1. All because Sebastian Vettel was incredibly horny, but he didn't need to know this.

She might not have been able to drive, but she still wanted to be trackside whenever she could. Her old team gave her this opportunity. She didn't hang around the McLaren garage, as she had half expected.

No, it was Williams and the new team Principle, James Vowles, who gave her somewhere to be during the season. Even in preseason testing, she was there, watching the Williams.

It was great to be in the garage with Lily again. She'd always liked Lily, thought she was great for Alex when they first met. After her move to McLaren she rarely got to see Lily, and as much as she hated sitting in the garage, it was nice to be sat in the garage with her.

Alex was a great driver. Any advice a veteran like her could have offered him, he already knew.

But then there was his teammate.

She watched Logan from his very first race weekend. She had known about the rookie for a couple of years now and had watched him succeed in Formula Two.

But now, in the Williams tractor, he was struggling. Week after week after week he was finishing outside of the points, or he wasn't finishing at all. She really felt for him.

"Hey," she said after the Hungarian Grand Prix.

Logan hadn't spoken to anybody since he got out of the car and did all that he needed to do. Clearly he was struggling. He didn't say anything, just looked up.

She stood beside him. At her stage of pregnancy she could have gotten down to the floor to sit with him, but she wouldn't have been able to get up without help. Her hand rested on her bump as she looked down at him.

"I still remember my first season in Formula One," she said as she looked at the retired car. "It was 2013 and Seb was set to win the championship. I was in my first year in Williams and I think I only finished maybe ten races," she said with a laugh.

"Wait, seriously?" Asked Logan as he looked up.

She nodded her head. "I crashed out of most, or the car fell apart on me. Most people wondered why I had a seat for the next year, but Williams saw potential in me. I know they see it in you, too."

Every time Logan didn't finish a race, every time he came dead last, she was there. Nobody could comfort her like she did. Sometimes Seb joked that they might as well adopt him, and Logan agreed. Most up and down paddock called Logan her padawan learner, which was very fitting.

Logan began being the person she spent the most time with when Sebastian wasn't there. He'd looked up to her for many years and having her support meant the world to him. He was there for her too, making sure she had somewhere to sit and something to drink whenever she needed it.

In September, a month before her due date, Sebastian begged her to stop travelling. Just in case he wanted her home with him, where he could take care of her. They still watched every race together and she made sure to send Logan a good luck text before every practice session, qualifying, and race.

When Logan got his first points, nobody celebrated more than Sebastian Vettels wife. She was so proud of him, even if those points were because of two disqualifications. She posted a picture of him and her from a previous race on Instagram like a proud mum. Funnily enough, Logan comments 'thanks mom' on the post.

Just two weeks after this, her water broke. Sebastian got her to the hospital. He stayed by her side, holding her hand through the hours of excruciating labour.

Leon Vettel didn't cry when he was born. He was so quiet, that it actually scared his mother. But the doctors and nurses assured the new parents that he was perfectly healthy.

He was their perfect little man.

She insisted on asking Logan to be Leons godfather. They had grown so close over the last few months that it seemed fitting.

Logan accepted. As soon as the Vettels could, they were taking Leon to races. Or, Sebastian took Leon to races, to watch his mother race. Of course he was wearing a Williams hat and McLaren shirt.

"Papa," Leon said at four years old after watching the Australian Grand Prix qualifying session.

"What is it, my little man?" Asked Sebastian as he sat Leon on his lap.

"I wanna be like mama and Uncle Logan," he said, and Sebastian couldn't stop himself from grinning.

[cutielando]

i worry | lando norris

synopsis: in which you’re both worried about him

a/n: based on this request!

my masterlist

Ever since he could remember, Lando has always been a vocal advocate of how important mental health was to him, always encouraging people to get the help they need and not feel at all embarrassed about needing it and asking in the first place.

It was one of the many things that you loved about him, how passionate he was about making sure his words would encourage people all around to get better.

But that also meant that he sometimes forgot to take care of himself. The last couple of races before the 2024 summer break were very tough on Lando, both physically and mentally, but they especially took a toll on his mental health.

You had seen it ever since Silverstone, after McLaren had clearly fucked his strategy and jeopardized yet another chance at a win, he was heartbroken. Hungary was especially hard for you to watch, especially because you were in the garage when everything went down.

For days after, you couldn’t get the radios out of your head, the way the team had spoken to Lando, basically emotionally blackmailed him into giving up his position to Oscar. Lando’s broken expression when he finally made his way back from the trophy ceremony; his eyes searching for you in the crowd of personnel he couldn’t bear to see at that moment.

It was a very hard pill to swallow, especially in the days following the race, once everything had really settled down into his mind, once he had time to talk it through with the team as well. He never should have been put in that position, and the team knew they fucked up, but that still didn’t help how your boyfriend was feeling.

Let down by the people in whose hands he puts his life in every race weekend, by the people he trusts with his life and who have helped him make all of his dreams come true. He was let down by the people he considered a second family. And he didn’t know how to feel about that.

With the summer break, you figured that he would finally disconnect from everything, find himself again and recharge his batteries for the remainder of the season. 

But then came the videos from Grill the Grid.

You always watched the videos, finding comfort and laughing wholeheartedly at the competitiveness all the drivers displayed in such meaningless little games, it was heartwarming for everybody watching.

However, this time, that wasn’t the case.

From the very beginning of the first video, you had noticed something was off with Lando, in every single segment that he was in. He was quiet, he didn’t have the energy he always showed when doing the challenges. He seemed like it was the last place where he wanted to be, he was doing something he would rather not even hear about. At least, that’s what his demeanor showed.

Seeing the way Lando was through the entire video, it only added to your worries. 

You had just touched down in Greece with a couple of your friends, and you were laying on the soft bed of your hotel room while Lando was taking a shower. He hadn’t heard what you were watching, he probably would have stopped you from even clicking on the video. He didn’t want you to see him like that, he didn’t want to make you worry even more than you already were.

Pausing the video and putting your phone on the bed next to you, you sat there, chewing your bottom lip while thinking things over in your head. Should you ask him about it? Should you just ignore it? 

No, you had to check up on him. You knew him better than anyone, and you knew he tended to bury his feelings deep down and just shut everyone out whenever he was feeling down. And sadly, you feared that was happening right before your eyes, and you hadn’t noticed until then.

You hadn’t been waiting on the bed for long before the bathroom door opened and Lando walked out, a towel hanging low on his hips and water dripping from his freshly-washed curls. 

“Hey” he said, glancing your way briefly before he made his way to your shared walk-in closet to find some underwear and clothes to sleep in.

You smiled at him, your eyes following his every move. You went back to chewing your lip, your mind overwhelmed with dozens of thoughts attacking you at high speeds. You were itching to just blurt it out, make him sit down and talk to you about whatever it was that was bothering him.

But you knew you couldn’t do that. He would never open up if it felt like you were pressuring him into doing so. You were aware of that, but you also knew that he desperately needed to talk to someone, and you preferred that someone be you.

“Hey babe?” you called out, waiting for a hum in reply before you continued. “Do you think we could have a little talk?” you called out, your eyes stuck on your fingers while you waited for a response.

There was silence for a couple of minutes before Lando emerged back into the bedroom, now freshly dressed in a pair of boxers and a white T-shirt. His eyebrows were furrowed, worry settling into the pit of his stomach.

“Is something wrong?” he asked worriedly, taking a seat next to you on the bed and resting his hand on your knee.

You sat up and crossed your legs, shuffling closer to him and taking his hand in yours.

Looking up at him and admiring his beautiful eyes, you noticed the turmoil going around behind his irises, making you smile sadly at the poor boy in front of you.

“You know they posted the first Grill the Grid video today, right?” he nodded, still looking at you eagerly. “Well, I was watching it, because you know I like the little challenges they make you all do. And I couldn’t help but notice a few things about it” you carefully worded your ideas, trying not to seem like you were attacking him in any way.

“What do you mean? What things?” he asked, the worry in his stomach growing stronger and stronger.

You sighed, looking down at your joined hands on your lap. 

“Baby, are you okay?” you asked, looking back up at him with worried eyes.

His heart dropped into the pit of his stomach, his heart suddenly beating out of his chest. He was okay, right? He had to be okay, he didn’t have time to be anything but okay.

“I’m fine, why are you asking? Babe, what’s going on?” he said, shrugging his shoulders.

“I’m worried about you, Lando. The person I saw in that video is not you, baby. You didn’t smile once during the video and I know how much you love filming Grill the Grid. It looked like you didn’t even want to be there, baby” you explained, shuffling closer to him until your knees were touching.

Lando had since looked away from you, his gaze stuck on the fuzzy carpet at the foot of the bed. 

He knew you were bound to notice he wasn't himself. As much as he had tried to hide it and pretend like nothing was wrong, he knew he couldn’t hide from you for much longer.

Truth is, he was tired. Tired of always pretending everything was okay, tired lt making it seem like he was positive and trusting in his team, a team which had let him down in the last weeks more than anybody else in his entire life.

He couldn’t pretend anymore, he didn’t want to pretend that he was okay when everything inside of him was screaming for help.

“Yeah, I’m worried about me too. I was hoping I’d get better before you noticed” he mumbled, chuckling sadly as he took your hand in his and started playing with your bracelets.

Your eyes widened, worry sinking even deeper into the pit of your stomach. You had so desperately wanted him to tell you what he was feeling, that everything you had thought you had seen was in your head, but he did the exact opposite. He had confirmed every painful suspicion you had had, and you didn’t know how you were supposed to feel about it.

“Talk to me, baby. What’s going on?” you urged him, resting your head on his shoulder.

He sighed, biting his lip. He really thought he would have had more time to prepare for the conversation, but he might as well just tell you everything now. It would make it easier on him.

Looking up at you, he turned around so he was facing you, making you sit up straight and look at him worriedly.

“Truth to be told, I haven’t been doing all that well these past couple of weeks, and it’s got nothing to do with you or our relationship” he said, putting some of your concerns to rest. “Ever since Miami, everything’s been feeling half-done, or thrown away in a way. Max took me out in Russia, the team fucked up my strategy at Silverstone, they made me give up my win in Hungary, they fucked everything up in Belgium. I just don’t understand why they’re behaving like this” he confessed, making your heart break a little.

It was extremely disappointing for you to see how let down Lando felt by his team, a team that he considered to be his second family. He had dedicated his entire Formula 1 career to make sure McLaren would become great again, and now that it was finally happening, he and Oscar were taking the brunt of it, and he wasn’t okay with that.

“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry you feel this way. I know how tough things can be, and I wish you'd told me sooner. I hate knowing how much you were hurting and I wasn’t there to comfort you” you said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and bringing him into a side hug.

“I didn’t realize how much it was bothering me until the summer break began, you know. I finally had some free time to think about everything, and I don’t like the conclusions I’ve drawn” he said, his voice muffled by the fabric of your shirt.

“And what are those, baby?” you urged him on, knowing he needed to get everything off his chest before he truly felt relieved.

He sighed, changing his position so he was now laying down on the bed with his head in your lap, your fingers almost immediately latching onto his curls.

“I’ve given them my entire career, I’ve stuck with them for such a long time and I signed an extension for even more years, and yet they seem to forget about all of that. Even when everyone was telling me to look elsewhere, when I got offers from Red Bull, I never even thought about leaving the team. I just sometimes wish they would show me the gratitude and respect I think I deserve after sticking with them for so long” he explained, shutting his eyes as he enjoyed the feeling of your hands playing with his hair.

You bit your lower lip, nodding softly as you stared off into the distance. 

“I understand how you feel, and I wish there was more that I could do to help you. But I think you just need to disconnect from everything during this break, like not even think about racing at all for the entire month. You need a break, spend some time with me and your family, enjoy just living your life for a little and then you get back with a fresh mind” you suggested, your other hand cupping his cheek.

He hummed, but eventually nodded.

“You’re right. I just want to spend some time alone with you, I haven’t been able to just enjoy having you with me these past couple of weeks and I need to make it up to you” he said, opening his eyes and giving you a little smile.

You smiled back at him, leaning down and pressing your lips against his.

And even though you knew you and Lando still had a long way to go until he would finally feel content, you were determined to get through this.

Together.

comments and re-blogs help us grow!

much appreciated!!

REQUEST HERE

[malereadermaniac]

Omega team manager x Random Guys

How Kuroo, Daichi, Bokuto, Atsumu, Ushijima, and Oikawa as alphas would interact with their Omega!manager word count: 3.4k Sfw and Nsfw / MDNI ~ amab m!reader / FDNI

I'm fucking FEEDING u lot with this one it's SO LONGGG Also sorry if some of these guys are OOC I haven't watched Haikyuu in 3 years xoxo

Kuroo sfw

He wasn't opposed to the idea of having an omega as his team manager, in fact Kuroo was quite keen on the idea

He liked the idea of the team leader being an alpha and their manager being an omega

But he didn't let on that he fucking loved it

Kuroo immediately became protective over you, but in a more detached way

He would hang out with you, scenting your stuff over time to reek of his pheromones

After a few months, the rest of the team, as well as every other alpha in the school had backed off from you

The two of you took forever to even start courting

But it wasn't bad that way, you received the same amount of attention from Kuroo that you would if he was to court you

Kuroo would give you his team jacket to wear when the team was running laps outside, his scent enveloping you

The built alpha would tell you to cheer extra loud for him before a game

Eventually, the alpha mustered up the courage to court you, and the two of you have been together for ages now

Dates every weekend, study dates if you have exams the next week

Sleepovers after dates were mandatory

And you two were insufferable at college, Kuroo loved to rub his relationship in everyone's face - you were a very popular and sought after omega, so Kuroo liked to make sure people knew you were claimed

"I fuckin' love it when you wear my volleyball tank, babe - can't have an omega as handsome as you walk around without even a trace of my scent"

Kuroo nsfw

What escalated your relationship from courting to dating was your heat

The two of you were at Kuroo's house, home alone studying for a quiz the following Monday

You knew your heat was due soon, but soon meant in a week, not THAT day

What set you off were Kuroo's pheromones, the strong smell of musk mixed with woody scents sent you over the edge

The alpha noticed your panting and blushed face immediately

He apologised, kept his distance and told you several times not to do something you two would regret

Fast forward to the two of you dating, Kuroo's rut

His carnal desires took over and you were willing to help

His chiseled body, gleaming with sweat stood naked in front of you, your alpha looking down at you with hazy eyes

Your knees buckled from his pheromones

An hour had gone by and Kuroo was still sloppily eating you out, not even putting a finger in you, his rut keeping his focus only on the addictive taste of your slick leaking ass

Once your alpha had finally had his fill, he moved on to fucking you

Kuroo's rut made him ruthless, fucking you with vigor, panting and grunting into your ear, biting your body and covering you in marks possessively

The room was hot and stuffy with the smell of sweat, alpha pheromones, omega pheromones, cum and slick - but Kuroo and you kept going until his rut finally started to let up

"My Omega- HAHH! FUCK! Go-oood Omega-! Love you- so fuckin' - GAHH- SO FUCKIN MUCH"

Daichi sfw

He knew you before you became Kurasuno's manager

Daichi was practically courting you by the time you became the teams manager - so Nishinoya and Tanaka were quickly put off of you once they smelled Daichi's pheromones all over you

Again, being one of the few male Omega's at your college made you highly sought after

Daichi always told you how lucky he was to have your love

He's the softest Alpha you've ever met, gentle touches juxtapose his rough hands

He likes that the two of you are relatively popular, people watch as the two of you walk together and think that you're the perfect couple

Daichi likes to cuddle you, scent you constantly and to always feel his hands on you or vice versa

The alpha has no clue about PDA, he kisses you in corridors - his Alpha then prolonging the kiss to a make-out session that lasts the whole of lunch - it's up to you to drag him away to a more private area

Daichi is completely head over heels for hid omega

"I'm so glad we're together, I'm so lucky to be with you, (y/n). I love you, darling~"

Daichi nsfw

Daichi is the complete opposite of himself when he's in a rut

He isn't violent, but his grip changes from soft to firm on you, he shows his possessive side a lot more - calling you "Mine" and "My Omega" instead of his usual nicknames for you

He fucks you hard and each of his rounds last ages - Daichi being a manager of a volleyball team being incredibly daunting once his stamina gets applied to sex

Once his ruts ends, Daichi has to care for you for at least 2 days, your lower half not working at all

On the other hand, during your heats Daichi becomes a fat tease

The alpha fucking loves when you get desperate for him, it awakens something carnal within him

He makes out with you for a while as you grind into him, calling you pet names and cooing at you mockingly while you try to get off

Then, Daichi will only finger you for a while until you start literally crying for his knot

Finally when he gives in and fucks you, Daichi goes mental - you'd think he was in a rut

He jerks you off while he fucks hard into your prostate, making you cum over and over again, desperate for his knot

Thank god that you're on contraceptives, because by the end of your heat, you get the best of your alpha at least once or twice, his knot locking him inside of you while your walls tighten and milk his dick

"Fuck baby~ So- tight! 'M sorry baby, cumin- CUMMING! Fu... fuck baby, soo good baby"

Bokuto sfw

This man was ALL over you the moment you became the manager

Bokuto would flirt with you on the daily, and you would flirt back - your confidence and charisma made the owl-haired alpha want you even more

He was always friendly towards you, seeing you as more than an object like most other alphas - he more wanted to be your friend than to mate you

Only once he was in a pre-rut and had to spend a few hours with you did Bokuto fall for you - you were such a caring Omega for him, doting on him and providing him with anything he needs

After that Bokuto was still all over you but now in aims to court you

Which you gladly let the strong, muscular, Alpha captain of your college volleyball team do

So once Bokuto marked you, the two of you became THE college couple

People envied you for dating Bokuto and others envied Bokuto for dating you

He always has an arm around your waist or shoulders, Bokuto has to let people know that he's your alpha

He likes that you're witty for an omega, you're not super soft spoken - you match his vibe, he fucking adores that shit

He tries to be the best alpha he can for you, so he always pays for your meals and other things no matter how much you protest - it inflates his ego (his chest literally puffs up)

He loves spending time with you more than anyone else, Bokuto has never felt the way he does with you with anyone else

"You're mine, cutie~ My fuckin' perfect Omega... You're my everything, (y/n)"

Bokuto nsfw

Bokuto's demeanor in bed depends on if your in heat or if he's in a rut or not - in the best ways possible

If you're in heat and Bokuto is helping you through it, he's caring and careful with you - taking care of each of your needs

He's happy to be a dildo for you to use, a scenting and biting machine that you use to feel better

He rubs your tummy while he fucks you hard, his dick makes your belly bulge slightly - the euphoric feeling making the burn in your stomach from your heat disappear

On the other hand, if Bokuto's in a rut he's an animal

Bokuto loves the sounds you make, they ground him while he pounds you to high heaven, pumping cum into your hole while you squirm and moan under him

He loves the scent you make when you're horny, your sweat and your pheromones keeping the ache in his gut at bay while he drills your hole with his swelling, veiny dick

But unlike most Alphas Bokuto can remain mainly conscious during his ruts

Due to that consciousness, Bokuto makes you blow him at some points, which eventually turns into him mouthfucking you

The alpha marks your whole body when in a rut, grunting and groaning your name into your ear with nothing but lust and love dripping off of his tongue

"Jeusus- fuck- (y/n)- CUMMING! FUCK- Fuck yeah! My fuckin' omega- take my- SHIT- Take my fuckin' pups babe~ I fucking love you- I need you!"

Atsumu sfw

He'd heard of you before you became the team manager

Atsuma had never gotten the hype over Omegas - that was until he had met you

The way you doted on every single team member, made sure they each had water or a towel or anything, the way you cheered him on at the side of the court - it made his inner Alpha jump with joy

Atsumu had never wanted someone as badly as he wanted you - and he was gonna get what he wanted

You noticed him talking to you more, Atsumu would purposefully show-off the height difference between you both while releasing his scent to envelop you

It flustered you at first, but as time went on you embraced the Alpha trying to subtly flirt with you

When the two of you finally started dating, Atsumu had never felt lighter, everything just felt right with you

You took care of him, keeping him in check and fully shouting at him when he gets too high and mighty

The alpha would always buy you gifts, take you out in expensive dates but most of all he liked to have sleepovers with you

You would go to his house and Atsumu would cook for you, really charm you with his looks and skills then cuddle you all night while breathing in your pheromones like air

"I'd give you the world if I could, (Y/n)... Anything for the handsome man who loves me the most"

Atsumu nsfw

Atsumu really understood the hype around Omegas when he first helped you through a heat

The alpha got lost in your scent, the lewd sounds you would make, the way you would beg for him like you needed him to live, and oh god the way you tasted and felt around him

Atsumu felt like he physically couldn't stop fucking you, his hips having a mind of their own as he pounded your loose, slicked up hole

Atsumu is also found that he's a really mean Alpha in bed, something about you brings that out of him

And he found out that you fucking live for his degradation and teasing

He loves the idea of teasing you and laughing at you while your heat is eating at you, your body writhing from the feeling in your stomach as your ass craves for his knot

Atsumu is so mean to you it turns you on so much

He teases your dick, going as far as calling it a pussy as he rubs your dick against his palm while he only just fingers at your prostate

You squirt more and more slick out of your ass until Atsumu finally gives in to your pleas and absolutely ravages your ass

Your walls tighten around your Alphas dick while he fucks up into your prostate with every thrust

Moans and grunts echo in the room, Atsumu's veiny hand wraps around your throat and he squeezes gently while your hands dart to his muscular back and scratch him like a scratching post

By the time you've came for a 3rd time, Atsumu has filled your hole up to the brim

Your alpha is 6 loads in and is still willing to push through till the end of your heat ♡

"You're so cute, Omega~ Such a pathetic excuse of a man, such a cute little dick, look at you squirting sterile cum all over yourself"

Ushijima sfw

Omegas avoided Ushijima like the plague, even for an alpha he was huge and scary

So when you showed none of that when interacting with Ushijima, you had caught his eye straight away

He liked how kind you were, caring and doting like any other Omega but in a natural way - not in an overly exaggerated way like he had seen other Omegas behave around his teammates

The rest of the team noticed how much Ushijima was head over heels doe you - and they supported it so so much

He liked the height difference between you two, Ushijima would focus on how small you were compared to him even for an Omega, your small waist which his veiny hands could easily wrap around were on his mind practically 24/7

Once the team started to push Ushijima to court you, it was funny to see how you, as an Omega, were pulling most of the weight - making all the first moves while Ushijima blushes away

You were his first everything- his first crush, his first courting, his first kiss, and first time - He was like a schoolgirl around you

But once he mustered up the courage to ask you to be his, you were ecstatic - and so was the rest of the team

Dating the massive alpha was incredible, he was rich so of course Ushijima spoiled you

He compliments you so, so much in a nonchalant way - saying shit like "You're the most gorgeous man I've ever laid my eyes on" like it isn't the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to you!

And you two go on so many romantic and heartfelt dates, many of which happen at your house

Ushijima absolutely loves it when you cook for him, he sits down at the table and watches you cook away while you talk to him about something random

The whole time your words going in one ear and out the other while your muscular Alpha fantasises about you doing this for him everyday of the rest of his life after marrying you - which he most definitely plans on doing

"(Y/n) Ushijima~ I like the sound of that. Would you like to marry me, my omega? I think we'd make beautiful pups, don't you?"

Ushijima nsfw

Again, you were his first everything - so of course you were the Alpha's first time, too

The first time you helped Ushijima through a rut was insane, the poor virgin Alpha could not stop for his life

His scent was extremely powerful from the pure excitement and lust he was feeling, Ushijima was fucking you at an animalistic pace while he grunted and moaned so loud that the entire Ushijima estate could probably hear

He'd already came 4 times, his hips not stopping once, your dick overstimulated as you moaned and cried - Ushijima apologising between moans, drunk and high off of his rut

He'd never felt such pleasure before, a pure and constant rush if dopamine flooding his brain as he fucks his pups into you, his knot now just pushing in and out of you - the pain and pleasure mixing like the smell of pheromones and sweat in the Alpha's room

By the time Ushijima had regained consciousness and control over his body, he was appalled at himself

His eyes glanced over your body, widening in horror at the state your body was in - bite marks on every little patch of skin, bruises all over your hips and neck and wrists, cum still leaking out of your loose hole and your body covered in dried, sticky cum

After being bombarded with apologise, you calmed Ushijima down and promised that you enjoyed yourself

A part of him also felt really guilty that when he saw your puffed out hole, filled with his cum - a part of him hoped you'd carry his pups, so much so that he'd already gotten a semi from the idea

On the other hand, the way that Ushijima helps you through heats is incredibly sweet

The alpha does his best to soothe your pain, fingering at your prostate until you cum on his fingers while breathing in your mates scent, the burn in your stomach already dissipating

The alpha had laid plenty of attention in health class, so his dick is in you almost instantly after your first orgasm, slow thrust directly against your prostate making you slick up even more, cumming once again from the way Ushijima pressed a hand against the bulge in your belly

By the end of your heat, Ushijima's back is torn to shreds along with some beautiful bite marks from you all over his broad shoulders and neck

Your body on the other hand is perfectly clean - apart from.your mating mark, which Ushijima ensured to make fresh once more

"You're so beautiful, Omega. Feel so good around me, such a good boy for me, all slicked and taking my big dick so deep, all the way - you feel good don't you,(y/n)?"

Oikawa sfw

The idea of having THE campus omega as his team manager made Oikawa's chest puff up

He was all over you immediately - which made you more flustered than uncomfortable

The whole team liked you, you were very attentive to their needs and would always be up to help them with whatever - but Oikawa liked you even more than the others

The Alpha could feel his heart rate jump when you would arrive at practice and could feel his mood perk up when he had a class with you

The whole team knew the captain liked you - even you weren't oblivious to that fact, so it didn't come as a surprise when Oikawa tried to court you

You made no complaints, you were used to Alpha's trying to court you but you had always turned them down - you decided to give your handsome team captain a chance

And holy crap did he quickly make you fall for him

The alpha would scent you every chance he would get, Oikawa would greet you with a hug and a gift and then spend the whole time you two were together following you around like a puppy and chatting to you non-stop

His masculine scent and his charisma made it hard not to fall for him

So once Oikawa had successfully courted you, the two of you started to date

Never had the Alpha's ego been as high as it is now that you two are dating

Everyone at college knows about you two, due to Oikawa's loud mouth and inflated ego

He's constantly touching, you're on his arm every hour of every day bur you have no complaints about it

The Alpha constantly compliments you and wants to spend time with you - his playboy ways being long forgotten since he started courting

Every time you two are together is good, even arguments with your alpha end in hugs and tears

"Gosh (n/n)-chan you're so cute! Ya know, you look so good on my arm, bet everyone's soooo jealous of me right now~"

Oikawa nsfw

A selfish lover is the only way to describe Oikawa during his ruts

Like any other alpha Oikawa can only focus on his needs - but trust me only after Oikawa has came at least 3 times to you cum for the first time

The alpha will be fucking into you, milking his dick empty of his fertile seed for hours on end and you only cum around twice per rut

Oikawa feels bad about this once he comes back around but he can't help himself, you just feel too good around him he can't even focus on you

Your heats are totally different though

Oikawa loves to make you feel as good as possible - almost a little too good

The alpha has you cumming on his tongue within minuets - minuets which turn into hours of your heat craving your alphas dick and him not giving it to you

He fucking loves it when you literally cry for him to fuck you, beg for his veiny dick and his thick knot

Once Oikawa gives in and finally fucks you, he's ruthless, fucking you with so much vigor that you're squirting cum all over yourself constantly

You're moans and your scent are enough to make Oikawa fill you with cum, his knot finally making that burn in your belly calm down

Bathing in the afterglow, Oikawa can't help but stay hard from the way you look

You're like an angel sent by God himself, his perfect omega, your face fucked out and tired, your body covered in cum and marks - and oh fuck your hole clenching on his dick, milking your alpha for his pups

"Aww do you need my dick, baby? Does my poor Omega fucking desperate for my knot - do you want my pups, darling?"

Hope you guys enjoyed - very long for my kind of writing and I think it sucked in some parts but hope u liked xoxoxoxoxo

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

Postcards ｡･:*˚:✧｡

Summary: Quirky postcards are a tradition. Lando and you make sure to uphold it.

➨ ln4 x reader

➨ fluff

masterlist ☾☼

you loved attending lando’s races. it was a different atmosphere, charged and electric. you would hang out with lando and oscar before they would have to leave. you would wish them both luck with gentle kisses on their cheeks, and whispered i love you’s between you and lando. the team would make sure that you were comfortable with headphones on your head that lando had insisted that you wear at all times because of the loud environment. you would be there before, during, and after, and nothing made you happier.

ever since the two of you had begun dating, lando had made sure to add an additional day or two for travelling. he knew how much you loved it, and how much you craved to see new places. honestly, though, if you had asked lando to sign over his life to you with your big, beautiful eyes, he wouldn’t even hesitate.

lando and you would walk around the city, finding and visiting new places, trying different cuisines, and whatnot. you loved interacting with new people, and learning about their lives. if people had thought that lando was a yapper, wait till they saw you. it was one of lando’s favourite things about you. you managed to have a conversation with anyone and everyone, always with a smile on your face and bright eyes.

lando would follow you around like a puppy (as he should) while you dragged him into every shop you found interesting. you would look for the quirkiest postcards you could find, asking lando for his opinion on whether he thought it was funny or if the two of you could find something better. it was a joint effort, and it was a tradition that was close to your heart. whenever you found a postcard that made the two of you laugh, or smile, you bought it. and then, later, lando would get a photo of the two of you printed from his camera, and stick it on the back of the postcard.

it had become a practice between the two of you ever since the first race you had attended within the first two weeks of you two dating. lando had desperately wanted you to attend, and you agreed, on two conditions: you should be hidden from the media until you felt comfortable, and you wanted a day or two added for exploring the city.

lando had agreed. of course he did.

back in your apartment, you had a box full of all the quirky postcards you and lando had bought. it made you so much happier to share something like that with him.

though, when you had to miss races because of your university and internships, you couldn’t help but feel a little disheartened that the two of you wouldn’t be able to buy postcards anymore. of course, you would watch the races, and you would text lando throughout. you would even try and visit the races that were closer to home so that you didn’t overwork yourself. lando was grateful for all of it, but he knew that having you there in person was different than having you there through the phone.

the first race that you had missed, you had cried and apologised to lando for not being able to attend. lando had reassured you that your work was equally important, and that he wouldn’t want you to give up your passion to support his. he understood your need to make a name for yourself, and he was there to support you throughout. he knew that while you had felt a little better, you weren’t completely feeling good. to cheer you up, lando had decided to uphold the tradition, and the day after the race, he dragged oscar to look for a quirky postcard for you. after finding one, he would find a picture from his camera from during the race weekend, attach it to the postcard and mail it to you.

the first time you had received it, you had been so happy. you had facetimed lando, thanking him, and he told you all about the backstory of the photograph. you would laugh, and lando would laugh, and everything was okay again. it was the first time you knew that you loved him and wanted to spend the rest of your life with him.

that became the new norm.

any race that you couldn’t attend, lando would find a postcard, print a picture from his camera, and mail it to you. you would talk to him whenever you received it, and then you would store them in your box. certain postcards that were your favourites, whether for the picture he had sent along with it, the story, or even the postcard, you stuck them on your fridge with a magnet.

eventually, years later, after the two of you had moved in together in monaco, you and lando had a brilliant idea. it was going to be a lot of work, you two knew that, but it was going to be worth the effort.

it had taken an entire day, but you guys had settled on the floor of your new bedroom with the box of postcards, and an album book. there were four years worth of postcards for the two of you to sort through. there was music playing in the background, snacks laying around, and a wine bottle that you two shared. lando and you sorted through the postcards, setting aside your most favourite ones and adding the others in the album. the two of you danced and giggled, and sang along to the songs playing in the background. the two of you recounted stories, smiling and also crying a little bit.

after the album was done, lando picked up the box with the remaining postcards, and followed you to the living room. you and lando stood in front of the plain wall, which lando had originally planned on painting himself, before he had decided on a new plan. after a half hour of measuring and failing terribly at doing calculations, the two of you got to work. grabbing postcards from the box, you began sticking them to the wall.

it wasn’t completely stuck. you could always flip it over to look at the picture, and you knew that lando and you would switch some of the postcards in the future to add new favourites.

carlos had asked about the postcards when the f1 grid had come over for a housewarming dinner, along with your friends and lando’s friends.

he stood in front of the wall, staring at the postcards, when he finally asked, “what’s the deal with the postcards?”

“flip them over,” lando said.

carlos did as he asked, and realised that there were pictures in the back. he flipped through some of them, finding pictures of him and lando as well.

“i remember when lando used to drag me to every possible shop in whichever city we were in to look for a postcard quirky enough for y/n,” oscar said, laughing.

“we didn’t go to every shop,” lando whined, while you giggled.

“no, lando, we did. every shop he saw tourist-y stuff, he would drag me there, and then ask me if it was quirky enough for y/n. those were his exact words,” everyone laughed, because of course lando went to every shop looking for the perfect postcard. even then, he loved you so much that he wanted the best for you, and anyone and everyone around them could see that from the start.

later that night, when lando was washing the dishes, you came up to him. fitting under one of his arms, as he continued to wash dishes, you hugged him.

“thank you for finding me the best postcards,” you whispered against his chest.

lando kissed the top of your head, “always the best for you, love,”

stupid postcards went and made you fall in love.

·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙

im not sure if i love this, but i really liked the idea, and i really wanted to try and write it! i've also got a link for my taglist that you can find here!

[reidmarieprentiss]

Lost in Translation: Part Two

Summary: Penelope hosts a brunch, Derek tells Spencer not to force you to talk to him. You make a new friend with a client, they convince you to go to the brunch.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: comfort, angst

Warnings/Includes: alcohol consumption, regret of past decisions, Penelope playing match maker

Word count: 8k

a/n: Spencer and you finally talk!!!

main masterlist prologue part one part three

You’ve been avoiding every time Derek invites you to go out with the BAU team since the embarrassing incident at the bar. Each time you decline, you can hear the disappointment in his voice, but the anxiety bubbling up in your chest whenever you think about seeing Spencer again is enough to keep you from saying yes. The embarrassment of that night still haunts you, and every time Derek mentions the team, you feel your heart squeeze with panic. 

To keep your mind off everything, you throw yourself into your work, accepting new clients and piling on extra projects. You stay late at the office, ensuring your schedule is so packed that you don’t have time to think about anything but deadlines, designs, and color schemes. It’s easier to focus on creating beautiful spaces for other people than it is to deal with the mess inside your own head. 

Meanwhile, Spencer is struggling. Ever since that night at the bar, the memory of you running out haunts him. He keeps replaying the look on Derek’s face, the way you bolted the second he walked in, and it twists his gut with guilt. But it’s not just that moment—he’s also haunted by the memory of how he left you all those years ago, how he slipped out of your bed without a word, too scared to stay and too ashamed to face you. The weight of those two moments presses down on him, making it hard to focus on anything else.

Spencer's work starts to suffer. During cases, he’s distracted, zoning out during briefings and losing his train of thought mid-sentence. Hotch notices first, his brows knitting with concern as he watches Spencer fumble through his notes during a meeting. JJ, too, picks up on the change, her subtle glances in his direction filled with quiet worry. They don’t push him—yet—but Spencer knows they’re watching, waiting for him to say something. But he doesn’t. He just keeps burying it, trying to push it all down.

Spencer also finds himself trying to be around Derek more often, finding excuses to stop by his desk or catch him after work. He never outright asks about you, but it’s clear that’s why he’s hovering. Whenever Derek casually mentions having seen you, Spencer’s eyes light up, a flicker of hope in the midst of his guilt. But Derek’s updates are always brief, never giving away too much. He knows you’re still hurting, and he’s not about to let Spencer think everything is fine when it’s not.

Spencer hovered near Derek's desk, tapping his fingers nervously on the edge as Derek typed away at his computer. The bullpen was quiet for once, just the low hum of conversation in the background. Spencer cleared his throat, but didn’t say anything right away, trying to come up with something that didn’t sound too obvious.

“Hey, uh, Derek,” Spencer started, his voice a little too casual. “You have any plans this weekend?”

Derek didn’t even look up, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. He knew exactly what this was about, but he played along. “Yeah, got a few things going on,” he replied, his fingers still tapping at the keys. “Why, you got something in mind, Pretty Boy?”

Spencer shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his eyes darting around the room as if he wasn’t really sure what to say next. “No, I just... thought maybe we could grab a drink or something.” He paused for a beat. “Or, you know, if you’re hanging out with anyone else...?”

Derek chuckled softly, finally glancing up at Spencer with a knowing look. “Anyone else, huh?” he said, leaning back in his chair. “You mean, like Y/N?”

Spencer’s face flushed immediately, his hand rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck. “I mean... I wasn’t... just curious,” he stammered, avoiding eye contact.

Derek sighed, leaning forward on his desk and crossing his arms. “Look, man, she won’t just magically want to see you. You know that, right?”

Spencer’s face fell, the small flicker of hope that had sparked just moments ago snuffed out. He swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah, I know,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “I just... I guess I wanted to make sure she’s okay.”

After a long silence, Derek finally spoke up again. “Look, man,” he said, his voice a little gentler now. “You can’t keep hovering around me, hoping I’ll tell you she’s suddenly okay with everything. It’s gonna take time. And you’ve got to give her space.”

Spencer exhaled shakily, running a hand through his hair. “I know,” he whispered. 

Derek gave him a small nod, watching as Spencer turned to leave, his shoulders slumped under the weight of everything left unsaid. But just before Spencer walked away, Derek called after him.

“Hey, Pretty Boy,” Derek said, his tone a little softer now. “For what it’s worth... I think she’ll come around. But you’ve gotta be patient. Let her come to you when she’s ready.”

Spencer looked back at Derek, a faint glimmer of hope in his eyes again, but this time tempered with the understanding that it might take more time than he’d like. “Thanks, Derek,” he said quietly, before turning and walking back to his desk, his mind still racing with thoughts of you.

At this point, the rest of the team is fully aware of why you keep declining their invitations and why Spencer’s been so off lately. Penelope, in particular, can’t stand seeing anyone so miserable. After hearing about your history with Spencer from Derek, she’s taken it upon herself to figure out how to fix this mess. Penelope’s always been a sucker for a happy ending, and she refuses to believe that this is how your story should end.

So, she starts plotting. She ropes Derek into her schemes, convincing him that if anyone can get you two to reconcile, it’s them. Derek, though hesitant at first, agrees. He knows you, and he knows Spencer, and as much as he wants to stay out of it, he also wants both of his friends to be happy. 

Penelope sat at her desk, typing furiously away, when Derek walked up, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed, watching her with a raised brow.

"Alright, Penelope, spill it," Derek said, voice low with suspicion. "What are you up to?"

Penelope’s fingers paused on the keyboard as she slowly turned to face him, her lips curling into a mischievous grin. “I have no idea what you mean,” she said sweetly, though her eyes betrayed her scheming.

Derek sighed, shaking his head. “Come on, don’t play dumb with me. I know you too well. You’ve been up to something ever since that mess at the bar.”

She sighed dramatically, leaning back in her chair. “Okay, fine. Maybe I’m plotting just a little, but it's for the greater good.” She sat up straighter, eyes gleaming. “I mean, you want Y/N and Spencer to make up, don’t you?”

Derek hesitated, running a hand over his head. “Look, it’s not like I don’t want that, but... you’ve met Y/N. She’s not going to be happy if we force them together.”

Penelope waved her hand dismissively. “Pish posh! I’m not forcing anything. I’m simply creating a situation where fate can do its thing.” She leaned in closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Picture this: we invite Y/N to one of my brunches, or maybe to your next team gathering, and oh! Surprise! Spencer’s there. They bump into each other, sparks fly, and—boom! Reconciliation.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “You really think it’s that simple?”

Penelope's eyes widened in exaggerated innocence. “Of course not. But it’s better than both of them moping around like lovesick teenagers.”

Derek sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Mama, I want them to figure it out, but Y/N’s... she’s been through a lot. I don’t want to push her too hard. If she finds out we’ve been scheming, she’s going to be pissed. You have no idea how stubborn she can be.”

Penelope leaned forward, placing her hands flat on her desk. “Which is exactly why we need to be subtle about this, my sexy, sculpted cupid. We’re not going to push them. We’re just going to nudge them in the right direction. And if it doesn’t work? Then we back off. But I refuse to sit by and watch Spencer be miserable, and know she’s miserable too, when we could help.”

Derek looked down at her, his jaw tightening as he considered it. “And what if Y/N doesn’t want to see him? She hasn’t exactly been jumping at the chance to hang out with the team since that night.”

Penelope shrugged, giving him a hopeful smile. “Then we let it be. But Derek, what if this is the closure they both need? Or better yet, another chance? We owe it to them to try.”

Derek groaned, knowing she wasn’t going to let it go. “Alright, fine. But if this backfires, Garcia, you’re taking the blame.”

Penelope grinned triumphantly, clapping her hands together. “Trust me, Hot Stuff, it won’t backfire. This is going to work.”

Derek shook his head, laughing under his breath as he turned to leave. “You better be right.”

Penelope’s voice followed him as he walked out. “Oh, I’m always right when it comes to matters of the heart, Derek Morgan. Just wait and see!” 

Derek muttered under his breath, “We’ll see about that.” But deep down, he couldn’t help but hope she was right.

Their plan starts simple—just trying to get you both in the same room again, even if it’s by accident. As the wheels of their plan start turning, both you and Spencer remain blissfully unaware of their scheming. You’re too busy drowning in work, and Spencer’s too tangled up in his own guilt to notice the subtle nudges Penelope and Derek are starting to orchestrate. 

—

The lunchtime crowd hummed quietly around you as you sat across from Derek at your favorite corner table. The restaurant had always been your go-to, a cozy, familiar space where you could relax and enjoy the food without worrying about the outside world. Today, though, you were feeling anything but relaxed. Derek was giving you that look—the one that said he was about to bring up something you’d been trying to avoid.

“So,” Derek began, cutting into his sandwich, his voice casual, but his eyes watching you carefully. “Penelope’s throwing one of her infamous brunches this weekend. Thought you might want to come.”

You sighed, already knowing where this was going. “I don’t know, Derek. I’ve been really busy with work, and—”

Derek held up a hand, interrupting you gently. “I know, I know. You’ve been taking on a lot of new projects lately.” He paused, his tone softening. “But you’ve been avoiding hanging out with the team since... well, you know.”

Your heart tensed a little, but you quickly pushed the feeling away, forcing a smile as you sipped your drink. “I’m just not ready to jump back into all that. It’s been nice keeping my head down and staying focused.”

Derek leaned forward, his eyes full of understanding but also a hint of concern. “I get it, sugar. I’m not saying you should force yourself into anything. But maybe... maybe it’s time to let yourself have a little fun again. No pressure, just brunch with some really cool people. Penelope’s dying to see you again, and so is the rest of the team.”

You hesitated, your fingers tapping lightly against the rim of your glass. The thought of seeing everyone again made your stomach twist. But what if Spencer was there? What if you had to see him? You weren’t sure if you could handle that yet.

“Is Spencer going to be there?” you asked, your voice quieter than you intended.

Derek paused, his fork hovering over his plate. He looked at you thoughtfully before answering, not wanting to lie but also not wanting to overwhelm you. “Honestly? Probably not.”

Your brows furrowed. “Probably?”

Derek shrugged, setting his fork down. “I haven’t heard anything about him coming, and knowing Spencer, he’s been pretty distracted lately. I doubt he’ll make it. But... even if he did, it wouldn’t be about him. It’d be about you. Hanging out with people who really want to get to know you better.”

You bit your lip, torn between wanting to stay in your bubble and knowing Derek was right. You’d been keeping yourself so busy with work that you hadn’t given yourself much time to just... exist outside of it. And as much as you hated to admit it, you really did like hanging out with Derek and Penelope and the rest of the team. 

But there was still that nagging worry—what if seeing them all again just brought back memories of Spencer? Of what happened at the bar, and everything that came before it?

Derek seemed to sense your hesitation, and he reached across the table, placing his hand on yours. “Hey, you’re not gonna be alone in this, alright? We’ve got your back. And if it gets weird or uncomfortable, we’ll bail. No questions asked.”

You met his gaze, seeing the sincerity there, the way he genuinely wanted to help you move past this. And honestly, maybe he was right. You couldn’t keep avoiding the world forever. Eventually, you’d have to face things—even the parts that hurt.

After a long moment, you sighed, leaning back in your chair. “Alright,” you said, though your voice still held a trace of uncertainty. “I’ll think about it.”

Derek grinned, clearly pleased with your response, even if it wasn’t a solid yes just yet. “That’s all I’m asking, sweetheart. Just think about it.”

You smiled, though your mind was still turning over the idea. It wasn’t a decision you were ready to make just yet, but the fact that you were even considering it felt like a step in the right direction.

—

Derek found Spencer sitting at his desk, flipping through a stack of papers, though it was clear his mind was miles away. His usual hyper-focused energy was absent, replaced by an air of distracted tension that had been hanging over him for weeks now. Derek knew it wasn’t just the cases that had Spencer like this. It was you.

“Hey, Pretty Boy,” Derek said casually as he leaned against the side of Spencer’s desk, crossing his arms. Spencer looked up, startled out of his thoughts, blinking rapidly as if he hadn’t even noticed Derek approach.

“Oh, hey,” Spencer replied, a faint smile flickering on his lips. “What’s up?”

Derek didn’t waste any time. He leaned in a little closer, his voice lowering so their conversation wouldn’t be overheard by the rest of the team. “Listen, man, I wanted to give you a heads-up about something.”

Spencer sat up a little straighter, already sensing that this wasn’t just a casual conversation. “What is it?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

Derek rubbed the back of his neck, weighing his words carefully. “Y/N might be coming to Penelope’s brunch this weekend,” he said, watching Spencer’s reaction closely.

Spencer’s eyes widened slightly, his breath catching as he processed the news. “She is?” His voice was quiet, a mixture of hope and nerves in his tone.

“Yeah, but here’s the thing,” Derek continued, his tone more serious now. “You’ve gotta give her space, man. Let her come to you when she’s ready. She’s not gonna want you chasing after her or trying to force a conversation. If she shows up, it’s a big deal for her.”

Spencer gave Derek a sharp look. "I'm not a child, Morgan. I can handle this."

Derek nodded, lowering his hands. "Fair enough. I wouldn’t expect you to. Just... give her the space she needs, alright?"

Spencer sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Understood. I know I messed up, and I’ll give her space. But I’m not going to act like she doesn't exist. I care about her too much for that."

Derek gave him a small, encouraging smile. "That’s all I’m asking, man. Just be ready when the time’s right." With a final pat on Spencer’s shoulder, Derek straightened up. “See you at brunch, man. Just... take it easy.”

Spencer watched as Derek walked away, the weight of the conversation settling heavily on his chest. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy. But for your sake, he was willing to wait.

—

On your most recent job, you quickly hit it off with Austin, the person you’re helping redesign their living space. They’re warm, funny, and easy to talk to, and the two of you click almost immediately. 

After finishing up the day’s discussion on design plans, Austin smiles and offers, “How about a cup of coffee before you head out? I make a mean brew.”

Grateful for the break and their company, you nod. “I’d love that.”

Austin heads to the kitchen, and you follow, feeling like you’ve made a new friend as much as a professional connection.

As you sit in the newly remodeled kitchen with Austin, the atmosphere feels warm and cozy. The soft glow of sunlight through the windows highlights the potted plants neatly arranged on the shelves, while the scent of fresh coffee fills the air. Austin hands you a mug, their smile easy and comforting as you settle into a chair.

You and Austin chat aimlessly for a while, exchanging stories and making easy, lighthearted conversation. The topics flow naturally—favorite movies, travel dreams, and funny stories from work. Eventually, the conversation shifts when Austin starts gushing about their partner, eyes lighting up as they tell you about the recent proposal and how they’re working to finish the house before their partner officially moves to Virginia.

“So, they proposed right there in the park,” Austin says with a dreamy grin. “I swear, I didn’t even see it coming. I was still thinking about what we were going to have for lunch, and then bam, ring in my face!”

You smile, warmed by their excitement. “That’s amazing. It sounds perfect.”

“It was,” Austin beams, looking star-eyed thinking about their fiance. Then, they turn to you with a curious glint in their eye. “Okay, so spill. Anyone tickling your fancy lately? I don’t see a ring.” They gesture to your bare hand with a teasing grin.

You laugh lightly, rubbing your ring finger absentmindedly as you sigh. “Yeah, maybe, well, no. There’s this... guy. But it’s complicated.”

Austin’s grin widens as they lean in, clearly intrigued. “Complicated, huh? Oh, now you have to tell me. What’s the tea?”

You take a breath, then dive into the story. You don't name names��you never know who’s going to know Spencer now—but you tell Austin about the guy from your past who broke your heart, the one who ghosted after everything. You explain how, years later, he's suddenly back in your life, and how seeing him has stirred up all those old feelings again, leaving you confused and unsure of what to do.

Austin listens intently, nodding as you talk. "That sounds rough," they say softly when you finish. "It’s totally valid to feel hurt, and it’s understandable if you don’t want to rush back into anything."

"Yeah, thank you—but... it’s been years. Shouldn’t I be over it by now?" you ask, feeling the familiar frustration rise in your chest. "I’ve been ignoring him, avoiding anything or anyone that might bring him back into my life, but now I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing."

Austin leans back, resting their mug on the table. "It’s not about how long it’s been; it’s about how it affected you. It’s okay to still feel hurt. But maybe... hearing him out could give you some closure. It doesn’t mean you have to forgive him or let him back into your life, but it might help you move forward."

You bite your lip, considering their words. "I don’t know if I can face him. What if he just makes things worse?"

Austin smiles, their expression soft but encouraging. "Only you know what you need. But remember, this isn’t about him. It’s about you. What do you need to feel at peace with all this? If hearing him out helps, then maybe it’s worth considering. If not, that’s okay too. Just make sure you’re doing what’s best for you, not what’s easiest."

Their words settle over you like a comforting blanket, making you feel understood. Austin seems to have a way of turning serious conversations into lighthearted moments, and you’re grateful for it.

"Plus," Austin adds with a grin, "if it goes badly, you can always stage a dramatic exit at the brunch. I’m talking about flipping tables and storming out—full soap opera style."

You laugh, the weight of the situation lifting just a bit. "You know, that might actually make it worth going."

"Exactly!" Austin beams. "But seriously, I think you should go. If nothing else, you'll get some great brunch food, and maybe—just maybe—you'll get the closure you're looking for. Worst case, you can leave and we’ll plan the perfect revenge."

Feeling more confident with their support, you finally nod. "Alright, I’ll go to the brunch."

Austin claps their hands together excitedly. "Good! And I’ll be here, ready to hear all the details afterward."

With that, the two of you spend the rest of the afternoon chatting and laughing, the heavy weight of indecision lightening with each joke and bit of encouragement. Austin’s easygoing nature and advice give you the nudge you need to face the upcoming brunch—and Spencer.

—

That night, as Spencer lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, his mind began to wander, slipping into the memories of a time he hadn’t let himself revisit in years—college, the late nights in the library, the quiet moments spent with you. 

He could still remember the first time he saw you on campus, walking across the quad with your head down, focused on a book you were balancing in your arms. You hadn’t noticed him then, but he had noticed you—how could he not? The way you carried yourself, the quiet confidence in your demeanor. At first, he admired you from a distance, his heart catching whenever you passed by in a hallway or sat near him in the library. You had no idea, and he was too shy to ever approach you.

Then came the nights in the library, when fate—or maybe just a shared dedication to studying—brought you together. The quiet hum of the fluorescent lights above, the rustle of pages being turned, and the way your pens would scratch in unison over notebook paper as you both worked. He remembered how, over time, you grew comfortable with each other’s presence, exchanging little smiles, shared inside jokes, and eventually conversations that lasted longer than either of you planned.

There was one night, in particular, that stuck in his memory—a night when you two had stayed so late that the library lights started to dim, signaling closing time. The campus was quiet as you both walked out together, the cool air brushing against your faces. You had laughed about something, your eyes lighting up in the moonlight, and Spencer remembered how his heart had fluttered in that moment, wondering how someone could make him feel so at ease. He never thought he’d get to know you, let alone be someone you’d spend your nights with, even if just for studying.

And then came the night that changed everything. The night you had invited him over after finals, and things became more than just studying. He hadn’t expected it, didn’t even dare to imagine it, but when it happened, it felt... perfect. 

You had fallen asleep on his chest that night, your soft breaths a rhythm against his skin. He remembered lying there, tracing small patterns on your back, feeling the warmth of your body pressed against his. It should have been the best night of his life—and in many ways, it was—but his mind, his insecurities, had taken over. He remembered thinking that you were too good for him, that someone like you wouldn’t want to stick around for someone like him. And that fear, that crushing fear of losing you, had driven him to leave.

Spencer swallowed hard as the guilt washed over him again. He had been so lovesick, so desperate to protect himself from the inevitable heartbreak he assumed would come. But in doing so, he had created a heartbreak that had lasted for years—for both of you.

Now, on the eve of seeing you again, the weight of it all pressed down on his chest like a heavy stone. The regret was unbearable, but so was the longing—the memory of your laughter, your smile, the way you looked at him when you thought he wasn’t paying attention. Spencer felt a deep ache in his chest, his heart pounding with the knowledge that he might never get the chance to tell you how much you had meant to him, how much you still did.

He had been infatuated with you all those years ago, and now, he realized, that feeling had never truly gone away.

Unable to sleep, Spencer tossed and turned, his mind refusing to quiet. Every memory, every regret, kept replaying on a loop. With a sigh of frustration, he finally threw the covers off and dragged himself out of bed, padding down the hall toward his office. 

He knew it was pointless, but something inside him—maybe it was curiosity, maybe guilt—compelled him to open his laptop. His fingers hovered over the keys for a moment before they moved almost automatically, typing your name into the search bar.

Within seconds, your business page appeared. Spencer hesitated before clicking, his heart racing, his palms suddenly clammy. It felt intrusive, like peeking into a part of your life he no longer had the right to know about, but he couldn’t stop himself.

As the page loaded, his eyes immediately went to the gallery of your work—beautiful, thoughtfully designed interiors that gave him a glance into you, your mind. He scrolled through the images slowly, taking in the details. The colors, the arrangements, the way you made spaces feel both warm and elegant. He had always known you were talented, but seeing the breadth of your work now, years later in a professional sense and not just sketches for class, filled him with a sense of pride. 

And then he saw it—your headshot, nestled at the top of the page alongside your name and title. His breath caught in his throat as he stared at the picture. There you were, smiling, your eyes bright, your expression so familiar it made his heart ache.

Spencer leaned closer to the screen, his gaze fixating on the details of your face. He studied every line, every angle, as if trying to memorize you all over again. It had been so long since he’d seen you up close, but here, on this screen, you felt so near and yet so far. 

His fingers grazed the edge of the trackpad, hesitant, before he clicked on the image, enlarging it until it filled the screen. He stared, lost in the sight of you—how much you had grown, how much you had changed, but still so much the same. The emotions welled up inside him, a mixture of longing and regret, so intense he could hardly breathe.

He had left you, walked away when he was too afraid to face what he felt, and now, all these years later, here you were, thriving in a world he no longer shared with you. Spencer wondered if you had moved on, if you had someone else in your life now, someone who appreciated all the beauty and warmth you brought into the world.

But even more than that, he wondered if you would ever forgive him.

Spencer stared at your picture until the screen blurred, the weight of his emotions pressing down on him. He didn’t deserve your forgiveness—he knew that much. But as he sat there, in the silence of his office, staring at the face he had missed for so long, he couldn’t help but hope that maybe, just maybe, you would give him the chance to try.

—

You showed up to Penelope’s place early, just as promised, with Derek by your side. He immediately went to help her hang up string lights while you and Penelope stayed together, fussing over the final touches. The atmosphere was lively and fun, and you were glad you came today.

When you entered her kitchen, Penelope lit up. "Oh my God! Look at you! I am in love with your outfit!" she exclaimed, her hands clapping together in excitement. You grinned, feeling the compliment ease some of your nerves.

“You’re one to talk,” you gestured towards her own colorful ensemble, the vibrant red and playful green perfectly matching her quirky style. “You look like you stepped out of a fashion magazine—one that I desperately need a subscription to."

Penelope twirled dramatically, her beret perched at the perfect angle, making the charm bracelet on her wrist dangle and jingle. "Stop it, we’re just the most fashionable duo, aren’t we?" She winked at you before handing you a mimosa. "Okay, now drink up. We've got some brunch magic to make happen."

As you sipped the bubbly drink, you couldn’t help but feel the knot of anxiety loosen in your chest. You and Penelope moved around the kitchen, arranging pastries and fruit trays, talking about everything except the one thing you knew was still looming in the background—Spencer. But for now, with the lights twinkling outside, the mimosas in hand, and Penelope by your side, you allowed yourself to feel a small sense of peace.

As the morning drifted into late brunch hour, the doorbell chimed, signaling the arrival of the first guests. You exchanged a quick, encouraging glance with Penelope before taking another sip of your mimosa, the fizz tickling your nose as you set the glass down.

“I’ll get it!” Penelope sang, already halfway to the door. You watched from the kitchen as she swung it open with her signature flair. “Elle! JJ! Look at you gorgeous queens!”

Elle was the first to step inside, her calm confidence radiating as she gave Penelope a warm hug. “You’re too much,” Elle smirked, though you could see the affection in her eyes as she gave Penelope a squeeze. 

JJ, all smiles, followed closely behind, her sunny personality lighting up the room the second she entered. “Garcia!” she exclaimed, leaning in for her own hug. “This place looks amazing, as usual.” She cast a quick glance around the room, taking in the string lights, the vibrant color scheme, and of course, the immaculate spread of food that had been lovingly arranged.

Penelope didn’t miss a beat. “Girls, you remember Y/N!” she called over, practically skipping as she gestured towards you. “She’s my stylish new partner-in-crime today.”

Elle and JJ turned toward you with warm, inviting smiles. JJ was the first to step forward, her kindness evident in her expression. “Y/N! Of course we remember. I’m glad you’re here!” She opened her arms for a quick, friendly hug, which you returned, grateful for her easygoing energy.

Elle followed suit, her smile softer but no less welcoming. “Good to see you again,” she said, giving you a nod of approval as she took in your outfit. “You’re definitely keeping up with Penelope in the style department.”

You laughed lightly, feeling the tension start to ease as you hugged Elle too. “I had to step up my game, knowing she’d outshine all of us,” you joked, throwing a playful glance at Penelope, who was already bouncing back towards the food to check on the platters.

Derek, meanwhile, appeared from the other side of the room, finishing up with the string lights. He clapped his hands together, grinning as he walked over. “Ladies! Looks like we’re in for quite the brunch.”

JJ raised her glass in response, smiling. “Cheers to that. It’s been way too long since we’ve had a proper get-together.”

Elle nodded in agreement. “Let’s hope the food tastes as good as it smells. You and Penelope outdid yourselves this time.”

Penelope shot her a cheeky grin. “Oh, honey, just wait until you taste it. Y/N’s been helping too—she’s a natural!”

You felt a small flush creep into your cheeks at the compliment, but the easy laughter and casual conversation swirling around you made it hard to feel too self-conscious. It was starting to feel like maybe this day wouldn’t be as nerve-wracking as you’d feared.

Next to arrive, in a much more subdued manner, were Hotch and Haley. Hotch entered with his usual calm presence, while Haley smiled warmly, her arm linked with his. She radiated a gentle energy that put you at ease immediately. As they approached, Hotch offered a small nod of greeting, his serious demeanor softened just slightly by the casual setting.

“Penelope, this place looks amazing,” Haley said, her voice filled with admiration as she took in the setup. “It’s so cozy and beautiful.”

Penelope beamed, twirling slightly as she accepted the compliment. “Why, thank you! Y/N helped with all the setup. We’re a dynamic duo today,” she said, sending you a proud wink.

Haley turned her attention to you, her smile genuine as she extended her hand. “Y/N, it’s great to meet you. I’m Aaron’s wife, Haley. Penelope mentioned you have an eye for design, and I can definitely see it.”

You shook her hand, grateful for her easy manner. “Thank you, Haley. I’m glad you like it. It’s nice to meet you too.”

Hotch gave you a polite smile as well. “Good to see you, Y/N,” he said simply, his voice carrying its usual quiet authority but without the edge it often had in more formal settings.

“It’s good to see you too, Hotch,” you replied, matching his composed tone.

The group began to chat casually, the energy shifting to a more relaxed rhythm with Haley’s calm presence balancing Penelope’s excitable nature. You found yourself blending in more easily than you expected, the unease you felt earlier starting to fade away as the conversation flowed naturally.

You couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief that, so far, everything was going smoothly. The brunch was shaping up to be a success, and for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to enjoy the moment without worrying about what—or who—might come next.

But then, just as you were starting to relax, there was a knock at the door. The sound sent a jolt of anxiety through you, your breath catching in your throat as the lighthearted atmosphere suddenly shifted. You choked on a breath, your fingers tightening around your glass. 

Derek, noticing the slight change in your expression, patted your shoulder reassuringly before heading to the door. He swung it open with his usual confident ease, his grin widening as he greeted the new arrivals.

“Gideon! Reid!” Derek’s voice was full of his usual warmth, but when your eyes caught sight of Spencer standing just behind Gideon, your pulse spiked.

Gideon stepped inside first, laughing as he shook Derek’s hand. “You know how much Spencer hates driving. He practically begged me to pick him up,” he joked, casting a sideways glance at Spencer, who was lingering just outside the doorway.

Spencer offered a small, awkward smile, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket as he gave Derek a polite nod. "Yeah, driving... not my favorite thing."

Your heart hammered in your chest as you saw Spencer—looking the same, yet different. His hair was longer, his expression a little more weathered. He seemed hesitant, as if unsure of his place in the room, but when his eyes quickly scanned the space and landed on you, they widened ever so slightly.

Derek caught the momentary tension between you and Spencer, his jaw tightening subtly. He turned to the rest of the group, his tone trying to smooth over the sudden shift in energy. “Alright, everybody, make room for these two. Brunch is waiting to be devoured.”

Penelope quickly stepped forward to greet Gideon and Spencer with an exuberant smile, acting oblivious to the quiet storm brewing between you and the man now standing only a few feet away.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to breathe, and turned away, praying no one could see the turmoil swirling in your chest.

Gideon, ever the perceptive one, glanced around the room, his eyes briefly scanning each face before they settled on you. He tilted his head slightly, the hint of a curious smile playing on his lips. Without missing a beat, he broke away from the small group forming near the entrance and made his way over to you.

“Hello,” Gideon greeted you warmly, extending a hand. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Jason Gideon.”

You blinked, momentarily startled by the direct introduction, but quickly reached out to shake his hand. "Y/N," you replied with a polite smile, though your voice wavered slightly, the nerves still simmering beneath the surface. "It’s nice to meet you."

Gideon’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he studied you for a moment, seeming to pick up on the tension you were trying so hard to conceal. “Derek speaks highly of you,” he added kindly, his tone gentle, as if sensing that you needed a little bit of reassurance.

Your stomach twisted, but you nodded in response. “He’s a good friend,” you said, glancing in Derek’s direction for a split second before focusing back on Gideon. 

The conversation had inadvertently drawn Spencer's attention. From the corner of your eye, you could see him turn slightly, his gaze shifting from Gideon to you. His posture stiffened, and though he remained rooted to his spot near the door, his eyes were now locked on you, a flicker of recognition passing through them.

There it was—the moment you had been dreading. You didn’t have to look directly at him to feel the weight of his gaze on you. Spencer, standing just a few feet away, realizing that you were here.

Gideon seemed to notice too. He glanced over his shoulder toward Spencer before turning back to you, his expression a little softer now, as if understanding something unspoken.

“Well,” Gideon said after a brief pause, “it was a pleasure to meet you, Y/N.” He gave you a final smile before turning to rejoin the others, leaving you standing there with your pulse racing and the unmistakable feeling of Spencer’s eyes still on you.

You exhaled slowly, trying to steady yourself. This was exactly what you had been trying to avoid, but now there was no escaping it. You made brief eye contact, nodding in acknowledgement as Spencer gave you one of his infamous tight lipped smiles. 

Spencer stood frozen in place, his breath catching in his throat the moment Gideon’s conversation with you drew his attention. The sight of you—standing there, laughing politely at something Gideon said—was like a punch to the gut. He had been preparing himself for this, trying to steel his nerves, but nothing could’ve braced him for the actual moment of seeing you again.

You looked incredible, more radiant than he remembered, and the sight of you stirred up everything he had been trying to push down. The memories flooded back—the long nights in the library, the gentle teasing, the way your hand had felt in his, and the soft sound of your laugh. You should say something, he told himself. But his feet remained firmly planted on the floor, rooted in the swirl of emotions tightening his chest. 

Spencer felt a wave of heat rush over him. You looked so good—better than he’d ever allowed himself to imagine in the countless nights he’d lain awake thinking of you. That plaid dress you wore, the way it cinched at your waist, how your hair framed your face perfectly—every detail made him dizzy. He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry as he tried to focus, but all he could do was stare. 

God, what am I supposed to say? You hadn’t looked at him again since the brief glance. The thought gnawed at him. Does she hate me? Is she angry? Does she even care that I’m here?

His mind spiraled deeper, the insecurity choking him like a vice. Every possible scenario played out in his head: You turning around, glaring at him with the bitterness you were more than entitled to feel; you ignoring him completely, dismissing him as though he didn’t matter. Both options made him feel sick. 

I don’t deserve to talk to her, he thought miserably. 

But he wanted to. He wanted so badly to close the space between you, to say something, anything that might take back the years of silence and cowardice. His hands fidgeted nervously at his sides, his mind screaming at him to move, to walk over, to apologize, to finally make things right. But Spencer stayed where he was, staring at you like a man drowning, desperately reaching for the surface, for something to anchor him—but unable to find it.

You shifted slightly, turning in his direction for just a second. Your eyes flickered toward him once more. The briefest glance, and then you quickly looked away.

It was enough to make his heart drop.

She can’t even look at me.

Spencer clenched his jaw, the painful mix of regret and longing clawing at his insides. He could hear Derek’s words echoing in his head—give her space, let her come to you on her terms. But the problem was, he wasn’t sure he could wait anymore. How could he, when just seeing you from across the room was this overwhelming?

He stood there, drowning in his own thoughts, desperate to say something, to do something that would fix it all. But he couldn’t. Not yet. And it was tearing him apart.

As the brunch carried on, Spencer couldn’t tear his eyes away from you, even though he was seated far enough that any chance of a conversation seemed impossible. You were right there, at the opposite end of the table, laughing, talking, and enjoying yourself with everyone else. Each time you laughed, it felt like a tug on his heart, reminding him of what you two had shared all those years ago.

The way you joked with Derek so easily, the way your banter flowed naturally—Spencer couldn’t help but feel that pang of jealousy creep in. It was irrational, but he couldn’t ignore the small voice in the back of his mind whispering that maybe, just maybe, you had moved on with Derek. He tried to shake the thought, knowing how close you and Derek were as friends, but the insecurity was there nonetheless, gnawing at him.

Maybe that’s why Derek doesn’t want me to push things, Spencer thought bitterly, feeling the weight of his suspicions grow. Maybe he wants her for himself.

Spencer’s hands tightened around his glass, the icy chill of his now cold tea doing nothing to cool the heat rising in his chest. He knew he was being ridiculous, but the thought wouldn’t leave him. It stuck in his mind, festering as he watched Derek’s casual affection toward you. It didn’t help that you smiled at Derek the way you used to smile at him. 

When you excused yourself to make more tea, Spencer’s mind was spinning too much to stay seated. He couldn’t let the jealousy take control, but it was too late; it had already wrapped around his thoughts, suffocating any sense of logic. Before he realized it, his legs had carried him from the table, following you into the kitchen.

The moment you walked into the cozy kitchen that you'd helped Penelope prepare, the warm smell of the tea leaves filled the air. The clink of teacups and the sound of water boiling were the only things breaking the quiet of the room. You didn’t notice Spencer following you at first, too caught up in refilling the teapot and enjoying the brief solitude from the table’s conversations.

Spencer hesitated at the entrance to the kitchen, watching you from behind as you moved gracefully between the counter and the kettle. His heart was pounding, the thoughts racing in his mind, torn between his guilt over the past and the irrational jealousy clouding his judgment.

Finally, he spoke, his voice soft but thick with everything he was holding back. “Y/N.”

You turned at the sound of his voice, surprised to see him standing there, clearly not expecting this moment. The tension between you two was palpable, hanging in the air like a weight neither of you was ready to address.

"Spencer," you acknowledged softly, your hands still on the teapot as you stared at him. The awkwardness was undeniable, but there was something else too—years of unspoken words, regrets, and emotions neither of you had faced.

Spencer swallowed hard, his throat tight as he stepped further into the kitchen. "I... I just wanted to—um, I need more tea," he said, fumbling for words, clearly not sure how to approach the conversation.

“Oh, okay,” you replied, surprised that was all he said but pleasantly relieved at the simplicity of it. "I can make you a cup if you want."

Your offer seemed to melt some of the tension in Spencer’s demeanor. His expression softened as he realized you were still the same kind person he’d fallen for all those years ago. “Thank you, that’s really kind of you.”

You nodded, reaching for the teapot. "Milk and sugar? Honey?"

He let out a small chuckle. "Yeah, all of it, please. I like it sweet."

“I know,” you mumbled, the words slipping out naturally. You’d seen Spencer drink his overly sugary coffee so many times back in college, his sweet tooth no secret to you.

Spencer rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, fidgeting with his hair as he tried to keep the conversation light. "Do you still drink coffee? Or is it all tea now?"

You shrugged, pouring the tea into his cup. “I do both. No need for all that caffeine today.” You laughed softly. “For work, though? That definitely requires coffee.”

Spencer smiled, feeling a little more at ease. "Yeah, I get that. My body’s probably made up of pure coffee by now," he joked, happy he’d chosen to stick with casual conversation rather than diving into the deep, painful history between you two again. 

Maybe Derek was right—maybe you would come to him when you were ready. But as soon as the thought crossed his mind, his heart sank. Derek. He remembered the way you laughed with him, how easily you’d fallen into a rhythm with him at the table. 

The jealousy he’d managed to suppress earlier crept back in, though he did his best to push it down again. You were being kind, and he didn’t want to ruin this moment. But still, the thought lingered—was Derek the one holding you back from wanting to talk to him?

But you’d already turned around, catching the pensive look on Spencer’s face. "Everything alright?" you asked, a little concerned by the way his expression had shifted.

“Yeah,” he said quickly, looking up at you with a soft, almost hesitant smile. "So, uh, you and Derek, huh?"

You blinked, tilting your head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Spencer’s fingers fidgeted with the edge of his cup as he mumbled, “How long have you guys been... seeing each other?”

You burst out laughing, surprising him. "Me and Derek? No, no, no," you said, waving your hands dismissively as you continued to chuckle. "He’s my best friend. That’s all."

“Oh," he nodded, clearly unsure. "I just thought—”

But you cut him off before he could finish, handing him his tea with a small smile. “Tea’s ready. Here.” Your voice was soft but awkward as you backed out of the kitchen. “See you out there.”

With that, you made your way back to the brunch party, leaving Spencer standing in the kitchen, processing what had just happened. 

That was the end of your conversation for the day, but it was enough for him. Spencer’s heart felt lighter than it had in weeks. 

He could work with this.

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

tag list <333 @yokaimoon @khxna @noelliece @dreamsarebig @sleepey-looney @cocobean16 @placidus @criminalmindssworld @lilu842 @greatoperawombategg @charismatic-writer @fxoxo @hearts4spensco @furrybouquettrash @kathrynlakestone @chaneladdicted @time-himself @mentallyunwellsposts @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @gilwm @reggieswriter @loumouse @spencerreidsreads @i-live-in-spite @fanfic-viewer @bootylovers44 @atheniandrinkscoffee @niktwazny303 @dead-universe @hbwrelic @kniselle @cynbx @danielle143 @katemusic @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @laurakirsten0502 @geepinky @mxlviaa @libraprincessfairy @fortheloveofgubler @super-nerd22 @k-illdarlings @softestqueeen @eliscannotdance @pleasantwitchgarden @alexxavicry @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @criminal-spence @navs-bhat @taygrls

[pickingupmymercedes]

Neva Play - Lewis Hamilton

Part of 1K Jukebox Event

song: Neva Play - Meghan Thee Stallion

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

genre: fluff with hints of angst - and a lot of sass (thanks anon who requested this one, it was perfect)

wordcount: +1k

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

I expected the usual whispers when I stepped into the media pen. I’ve been around long enough to know how it goes when things don’t go Lewis’s way.

But this time, the way they were talking, like the man hadn’t just won races less than six months ago—it had got to me.

“Maybe he’s lost it. Can’t keep up with the young ones anymore.”

One journalist snorted behind me, speaking loud enough that it was clearly meant to be overheard. I pretended not to listen, but I couldn’t help the way my jaw clenched.

He’d barely made it two laps today before the car gave out, but they were acting like it was all on him. As if it wasn’t obvious that the supposed updates were off—especially considering his teammate had spun out in the same damn place in quali.

These people knew the car was at fault, knew the team had struggled all weekend, hell the past 5 races at least, but still, they chose to spin the narrative.

Then there were the Ferrari fans—louder than ever, celebrating their 1-2 finish as if that somehow proved Lewis wouldn’t be good enough for a seat anymore.

One of the older reporters made some comment about “when it’s time to hang up the helmet,” and I had to physically restrain myself from whipping around to confront him. It was all I could do honestly to keep a straight face through my interviews, nodding politely, smiling like I didn’t want to snap back at every smug comment.

By the time I wrapped up for the day, I had enough frustration boiling under the surface to fuel a dozen Instagram stories. But I kept it to one. Just enough to remind people who they were talking about.

And as I walked into Lewis’s hotel suite, the laughter hit me before anything else in the hall. I could hear the guys in the living area, probably already half a bottle deep into their pre-party drinks.

I took a second to breathe, let the tension roll off my shoulders. I didn’t need to bring that frustration in here.

When I finally stepped inside, I saw Miles perched on the arm of a chair, waving a drink around as he gestured wildly in conversation with the others. He caught sight of me the moment I entered, and that mischievous grin immediately spread across his face.

“Look who finally showed up!” he called, dramatically waving his arms as if I’d been missing for hours. “Your man’s honor here needs some more defending. That Instagram story? Had me weirded out.”

I rolled my eyes, but the corner of my mouth twitched up in a grin. “Just correcting a few people.”

“Oh, is that what we’re calling it now?” He laughed, standing up to give me a little side hug as I tossed my jacket onto the nearest chair. “I could’ve sworn you were about to hunt some of these journalists down in that paddock. Had me thinking you were ready to throw hands.”

“Who says I wasn’t?” I teased, shaking my head as I stepped further into the room.

Miles’s eyes widened in mock surprise. “Everyone hear that? She doesn’t play about her man.”

The room erupted into playful “ooohs” and knowing glances, but I barely paid them any mind. I was too focused on Lewis, who had been standing by the window, adjusting his watch.

He glanced up, catching my eye, and I could tell by the way his mouth twitched that he was holding back a smile. He shook his head, clearly amused.

“You really don’t have to do that” he said, his voice calm, but there was a warmth in there. “I’m used to that bs.”

Of course he was. Lewis was the king of shrugging off comments that would crush lesser men.

But me? I wasn’t about to let people drag his name without at least saying something.

I tilted my head, my arms crossing in front of me. “I’mma keep doing it” I said, shrugging like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Before anyone could chime in with another quip, I gave the room a little wave. “Alright, I’m going to get ready. Try not to burn the place down in the meanwhile.”

As I headed for the bedroom, I could still hear Miles behind me. “If I were you Lewis, I’d be feeling pretty damn lucky. You’ve got yourself a personal bodyguard.”

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t help but chuckle under my breath. Miles’s brand of teasing always hit just the right note. And I wasn’t mad about it. Hell, it felt good to have someone see how much I cared, even if they were poking fun at me for it.

Once in the bedroom, I closed the door and leaned against it for a moment, letting the quiet wrap around me. The adrenaline from earlier was starting to fade, and I could feel the edges of fatigue creeping in

I had just unzipped my jeans when I heard the door creak open behind me. I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. I could feel his presence fill the room before he even spoke.

Lewis stepped in, closing the door softly behind him, and I caught his reflection in the mirror as he approached. His eyes were on me, intense as ever, no matter how many times I’d seen them.

I started to turn around, but before I could, his hands found my waist, pulling me gently but firmly against him. His breath was warm against my neck, and his lips brushed the skin there.

“Protectiveness looks good on you” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that I felt more than heard.

I tilted my head, catching his eyes in the mirror, a soft smile tugging at my lips. “Someone’s got to keep those idiots in line” I teased, my voice light despite the tension in the air between us.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating against my skin. “And that someone has to be you?”

I turned in his arms, resting my hands against his chest, my fingers playing with the fabric of his shirt. “Duh” I said, my tone soft but teasing. “You’ve got enough to deal with that thing you call a car. Let me handle these poor excuses of journalists.”

His eyes softened, and he leaned in, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “You don’t have to fight these battles for me, you know. That is also your workplace.”

I sighed, leaning into him slightly, my head resting against his shoulder. “I want to” I admitted. “I’m not going to sit back and let people talk. Not when it comes to you.”

He pulled back just enough to tilt my chin up, making me meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, but there was a warmth in them that made my heart melt a little. “They’re lucky you’re not exclusive to f1”

I raised an eyebrow, smirking up at him. “Oh, I know. But you are lucky I’m around enough to set people straight.”

He laughed then; a deep, genuine laugh that made me smile in return. “Lucky, huh?”

“Very” I said, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his jaw. “Now, are you going to let me finish getting ready, or are you planning to keep me here?”

He smirked, his hands still resting on my waist. “Now that you mention it…”

I gave him a playful shove, rolling my eyes. “Out. You’re distracting me.”

He stepped back, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright. I’ll go. But don’t take too long, okay?”

“I’ll be out in fifteen, just need a shower.” I promised, watching him as he backed toward the door, still grinning at me like he had some secret he wasn’t telling me.

Just before he slipped out of the room, he paused, glancing back at me over his shoulder. “For the record” he said, his voice soft but serious, “I appreciate what you did today.”

I met his eyes, my heart swelling just a little at the sincerity in his voice. And just as Lewis lingered there in the doorway, Miles’s voice carried through the suite, loud and as ever.

“Hey, Lewis! Let her go get ready, man. She’s not running away, you know?”

I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face as Lewis rolled his eyes. He gave a little shake of his head before turning back to me, his hand still resting on the doorframe.

“You’re not going anywhere, are you?” he said, his voice playful.

I stepped closer, smirking up at him. “Surely not if you keep stalling me.”

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss my lips. “Alright, alright. I’ll let you go... for now.”

I laughed softly, giving him a gentle nudge. “Good idea.”

Lewis flashed me one last grin as he finally stepped back. As he disappeared down the hall, Miles’s voice echoed again, this time with a laugh. “See? Told you, she’s not going anywhere.”

I smiled to myself, shaking my head as I went back to finish getting ready, my heart feeling lighter than it had all day.

No matter what anyone said, I knew exactly who I was. And so did he.

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @itsmrshamilton @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff @jpgnsf

@priopp123 @strqirlhrts @hmmmmm-01 @bisexual-babygirl-mj @bebesobrielo

@hiireadstuff @f1-football-fiend

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[chlorinecake]

𝐉𝐎𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊 - a yjw oneshot 🕹️

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a fun gaming session with your bsf leads to a night full of steamy shenanigans

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: gamer!roommate!jungwon x reader

𝐜𝐰: swearing, kissing, teasing, hickeys, y/n gets her boobies fondled, oral (f. & m. receiving), mentions of other enhypen members

𝐰𝐜: 3k | not proofread, written quickly

You sighed, “I wish more people in the world cared about Roblox… it saved my life, bro.”

“That was easily one of the dumbest things I’ve ever heard you say.”

“What?”

“I said-”

“EVER! Wanna play COD Mobile instead?”

“Bruh, that game is so mid.”

You scoffed at his remark, bringing a flared hand to your chest. “I’m goated at COD mobile, averaging like 100 kills per match. People praise me for that.”

“Because it doesn’t take skill?” He made it sound like a question, when he was really making a statement.

“Mkay. I bet I’d still whoop your ass on console, but we don’t have to go there.”

A hint of ambition sparkled in his eyes at the challenge. “Oh yeah? And what are we betting here?”

“Hmm,” you thought for a moment, “If you win, I’ll fix you a victory snack.”

He nodded at the enticing offer, “And if you win? Which you won’t, but-”

“The bragging rights will be enough for me, but you could always fix the broken shower head in my bathroom so I can stop using yours,” you interrupted confidently.

Jungwon forgot all about how you broke your shower head last week. You told him it was an innocent mistake, but his mind obviously wandered to other places once you told him. By now though, he had already gotten used to sharing a bathroom with you, so he didn’t feel any urgency to repair it. Still and all, he understood how you might want your private space back. “Ok. Fair enough,” Jungwon agreed.

He handed you a controller, waiting for you to join him at the loading screen. Setting up your gear and choosing what weapon you wanted, the match eventually started. Needless to say, you didn’t stand a chance against Jungwon and his team of CPU’s, feeling sore from defeat.

A prideful smile waved over his features, showcasing his prominent dimples. “Sooo,” he began, “I would like your leftover Twix bar from the fridge cut up over two scoops of vanilla ice cream. Don’t forget the sprinkles.”

You pouted, handing him the overheating controller. “I’m not fixing you a damn thing. You probably cheated!”

His eyebrows raised, “First of all, cheating is for weenies. Second of all, a deals a deal!”

“Ugh, fine. I’m charging tips, by the way.”

“Not a chance, crook. Unless,” he caught your attention as you got up from the living room couch, “you wanna go for another round?”

“No, that’s alright. I think I'm gonna just watch you play the game for now. You could invite Heeseung, too, if you want.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I’ll be back, okay? I gotta use the bathroom real quick.”

Walking into the bathroom, you closed the door behind you, taking off the bra that had been killing your back for the past 12 hours. You didn’t know where else to put it, so you hid it under Jungwon’s bathroom cabinet before leaving.

“When do you ever wanna play games with me? Are you with Riki or something?” Heeseung asked from the headset.

“No, I’m with ____. She needs some testosterone in her life and wants to watch us play I guess.”

“I can think of a few ways to help her with that,” Jungwon could hear the smirk in Heeseung’s voice.

“Shut the fuck up and join me already.”

“What? It’s not like you’ll ever have the balls to make a move on her, anyway,” Heeseung chuckled. “How long have you know her for again?”

“Since the first day of college.”

“Damn, and you’ve barely even grazed first base.”

“She’s still sacrificing her free time to hang out with me, so I don’t see the loss here?”

“Look, buddy. Your rizz needs an upgrade. These cute little gaming nights you have every weekend needs an upgrade. Your wardrobe needs an upgra-”

“I get it, asshole.”

You came back with the snack he requested, eliciting a dramatic applause from your goofy ahh friend.

“Your majesty,” you bowed playfully, placing the bowl of ice cream on the desk in front of him.

You filled in the space next to him, resting an elbow on the arm of the sofa, your nipples now on full display through your thin shirt.

“Are you cold,” Jungwon asked, eyes not quite meeting yours. You meant to reply, but he was already reaching his hand out to grope your chest, using a thumb to smooth out your hardened buds with his warm touch. You eyes widened in shock.

“Woah- mmm, n-no, I’m okay” you stuttered, Jungwon smirking at how flustered you appeared.

What the actual fuck was that!?, you thought to yourself.

He went back to casually talking with Heeseung again as if he didn’t just rub your nipples…

You usually enjoyed watching Jungwon play the game, but now, you couldn’t take your eyes off of Jungwon’s pretty hands. The way his delicate thumbs maneuvered the joystick of the controller sent your mind into a daze.

“Hold up, Hee, I’m gonna put you on mute for a sec,” Jungwon said, handing you his controller before mouthing the words “play for me” with a catty smirk. He adjusted his headset over your head, bringing a finger up to your seal your lips. “Shhh,” he warned.

You knew Heeseung wasn’t actually on mute because there was an open mic symbol on the corner of the screen.

What’s he up to now?, you wondered.

Kneeling between your legs with greed, Jungwon’s fingers tiptoed to the waistband of your shorts. He paused before asking, “is this okay?," and you simply nodded in response. He smiled, tugging your shorts and underwear past your hips, knees, and ankles, stuffing them under the sofa.

He gawked at your wetness, your lips swollen with need. Heeseung started the match, and that’s when Jungwon started taking kitten nips at the sensitive flesh between your thighs, leaving a few marks. He blew at your heat before finally using his fingers to explore your folds.

“Cute,” he must’ve noticed the way your pussy pulsed in anticipation. Attaching his lips to your throbbing clit, he sucked it into his mouth, alternating with his fingers when breaking for air. He hummed at your taste, adding to the pleasurable sensations.

You tried focusing on the game for Jungwon’s sake, but you couldn’t resist the urge to reach for a handful of his hair and gently grind against his face.

“You’re doing so good for me, baby, just stay focused,” he said in between slurping at your wetness that never sounded so foul til now.

Did he just call me baby?

He inserted a finger into your tight hole and started pumping in and out of you, curling up to stimulate your g-spot. You were struggling to keep your moans in, rolling your eyes to the back of your head as he finger-fucked you. He looked up, noticing that you had fully abandoned the controller. “Keep playing or I won’t let you finish,” he purred.

“Fuck,” you panted quietly, how do you expect me to do that?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself, ____.”

You picked up the controller and started playing again. Heeseung was now swearing over the mic like a madman. “Bro, you’re really not helping out our stats here by letting the enemy clap your cheeks,” he scolded, but you weren’t really paying attention to his voice anyway. Jungwon dove back into your heat, licking rough stripes against your clit as he inserted a second finger. “Mngh,“ you mumbled dizzily, clenching around him.

“What?” Heeseung asked confused, having heard your noise.

You reached to mute the headset, but Jungwon gave you a look that told you not to test him. You gave in, and succeeded in holding back your whimpers, but your heavy breathing continued.

“Dude, I’m literally never playing the game with you agai- HOW THE FUCK DID I JUST GET DIED?”

One last thrust of Jungwon’s fingers, and you were finally coming undone, shaking from the intense wave of pleasure that washed over you. Slender fingers glided in and out of your needy hole, his knuckles adding to the delightful stretch. The match ended shortly after you came down from your high.

Jungwon licked his fingers clean of you and swapped the controller back. “Sorry about that, hyung. I was eating and didn’t wanna disturb you,” he lied, readjusted the headset on himself.

“Well, I hope it was worth it. Our team forfeited on some elite rewards.”

“You’re welcome,” he teased, which you didn’t know if it was meant for you or Heeseung, because he leaned in to kiss your lips softly, before going in for another match.

Still feeling your orgasm fresh in your viens, you reached under the couch to grab your shorts and underwear, putting them on and getting up from the sofa.

“Hey, what’s up,” Jungwon asked while taking a spoonful of the half-melted sundae into his mouth.

“I-I’m just gonna shower... and maybe go to bed after.”

“Alright. Me and Hee are gonna play one more match and I’ll be in after you. Don’t take long!”

"Dude, you’re abandoning me already? I thoughtyou were gonna help me take these punks to skill-ville," Heeseung whined over the mic.

"You need to immediately repent for saying that," Jungwon cringed.

You made your way to his bathroom with a change of clothes, closing the door behind you.

You entered the shower, trying to wash off the growing heat between your legs and any dirty thoughts associated with your roommate. A few minutes in, you also decided to wash your hair as it had been a week since that last time you did.

That’s when you heard the door open and close, followed by the sounds of clothes being removed and tossed on the bathroom floor. You peeked from the shower curtain, only to find a naked Jungwon standing right there. He didn’t notice you looking, so you pushed the shower curtain back.

“The shower is occupied at the moment, Wonie!”

“I know,” he smirked, entering the shower from the opposite end as if this was yet another casual ordeal.

“May I,” he asked, pointing to the spot you were standing at in the shower. “Oh, sure” you replied, trying not to make things awkward. He reached for the bottle of shampoo and started lathering the honey scented product in his hair and skin. You tried to avoid taking anymore peeks at his toned body so you busied yourself with a loofa and cleansed your skin for what felt a hundred times. By now, you sat idly in the corner of the shower, with bubbles waiting to be rinsed from your body. “Here,” Jungwon motioned for you to return to your original spot. “Thanks,” you said. “Would’ve been nice if you said that earlier,” he poked.

Oh shit.

“Here, let me help you,” he offered, rinsing off the soapy suds that painting your shoulders and back. Somehow, this gesture relaxed you. “Now turn around for me.” You faced him with a chest covered in bubbles. He quickly rinsed your breasts before lowering the shower head to your private, adjusting the water pressure from low to medium.

You could hardly stand up straight from the pressure building up at your center. The throbbing sensation between your legs travelled up to your quivering lips. You moved a hand to cover your mouth, hiding your lewd sounds. Jungwon didn’t mind though, because your squirming is what excited him the most. “Hold still, ____,” he teased, putting the water pressure on high.

Bracing your balance with his free arm, his soft lips met your damp neck, nibbling at the skin. The sensation was so sweet that you finally let your moans out. Developing a mind of its own, your hand reached down to stroke Jungwon’s hardness, a lustful look staining his features.

He groaned into your ear, making you feel more than half crazy. You felt your climax creeping up on you as it became harder to stand up or keep still. Starting to pump him faster, both of you were now on the verge of bussing.

A little voice in your head slapped you back into reality.

This has to stop! He’s my roommate!

You turned the water off from the faucet on the wall, retreating your hand from his member as if it tased you. Grabbing a towel from the curtain rod and covering yourself, you left Jungwon alone in the bathroom.

You went to your room and started to dry yourself off. You couldn’t quite wrap your head around what was happening but a part of you liked it and another part knew it was inappropriate.

You just touched Jungwon’s dick, and yes, it felt really fucking nice, but the thought will likely haunt you til the day you die. He was a good friend of yours, and you didn’t wanna let fleeting feelings ruin it.

You put on the scented lotion from your nightstand followed by your clothes before plopping in your bed. You didn’t bother locking your door because you never had you to worry about Jungwon intruding your privacy. Or at least, that was before today.

You buried yourself under the covers before a trail of footsteps made their way from the bathroom to your bedroom door.

Creak.

The door opened and closed.

Click.

He locked it.

Walking over to your bed, Jungwon sat behind you.

“I know you’re awake, so stop pretending,” he whispered in your ear.

Annoyed, you threw the covers off your head, giving him an exhausted look.

“What do you want, Jungwon? Huh?”

“I could always just show you,” he said, flashing you the sluttiest eyes you’ve ever seen on a man.

“You could’ve waited for me to finish up in the shower before barging in like that.”

“No, I really couldn’t.”

“We’re roommates, Won! Hell, we’re friends!”

“And? What does that have to do with anything?”

“You can’t just fondle my tits whenever you want to, or eat me out on the couch when you’re bored, or join me in the shower because you’re impatient.”

You let that sink in for a moment.

“Did you not like it when I did those things to you? Did you not like the way I made you feel,” he inquired, inching closer towards you on the bed. “Because the way I remember it, you never told me to stop.”

The room fell so quiet that your heartbeat sounded loud.

He reached over to grip your thigh, leaning in for a kiss before shoving his tongue past your lips, but you pulled away.

“Jungwon stop!” You reprimanded, turning your head from him.

He grabbed your chin and proceeded to kiss you.

“Jungwon, I said stop...”

“I can tell you didn’t mean it.”

He continued kissing you, shoving his hand into you panties and going straight to your pussy, sliding his digits up and down your moist folds, sending an ache through your stomach.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so wet for me.”

He called you baby. Again!

He didn’t waste any time to rub circles around your sensitive bud, causing your hips to jerk toward him.

“Stop it!” You raised your voice, pushing him away by his throat. Your hand never looked so small til now.

“Then make me.”

“What?”

“You know I don’t like repeating myself, ____.”

Darkness waved over both your features as you pressed his back flush against the bed, reaching for his drawstring and pulling his sweat pants down. He wasn’t wearing any boxers, so his pink tip sprung up, clear fluid leaking from the tip.

You grabbed his dick, giving it a firm stroke before grazing your teeth down his shaft, eliciting the prettiest whimper you’d ever heard from his mouth. The texture of his veins ran against your tongue as you took half of him into your mouth, using your hand to stimulate the base.

Your head bounced up and down as Jungwon grew dangerously desperate. Tapping your cheek, he guided you off of him to take a breath. Cradling your head in his grasp, he slid you back down until your lips reached his pelvis. “Hollow your cheeks for me, and breath through your nose,” he guided before using your head to please him. Your eyes began to water as his tip hit the back of your throat, causing you to gag a few times, but he ignored it.

“I’m so close, baby, just keep taking me,” he nearly begged, chest heaving as he screwed his eyes shut, “Be a good girl for me, mmm,” he grunted, picking up the pace.

You were getting used to being called “baby” by now.

“F-fuck,” he whimpered, bursting his load into your mouth. He lifted your head from his throbbing heat, using a thumb to wipe the cum that dribbled from the corner of your mouth. You went back down to taste his release, only for him to guide your head away.

“Don’t eat that, ____,” he giggled, but you swiped a finger to collect some of his cum anyway.

“It’s only fair, Wonie. Now we’ve both tasted each other.”

You went to the bathroom to wash your hands, coming back with a few tissues to help clean him up. Something about this dirty moment seemed so pure. So right.

“Okay, I’m going to bed for real this time, see you tomorrow,” you smiled, getting under your covers.

“You don’t expect me to go back to my room, do you,” he asked, giving you a look.

“Well, tonight, I’ll let it slide, but if you end up breaking your bed, don’t expect visitation privileges.”

“Thank you,” he let out a breath, smiling as he snuggled under the covers beside you.

“Jungwon?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think Heeseung has any idea about what we did?”

Ding.

Jungwon’s phone vibrated in his pocket:

Text Message from “Heenis” — Jake ditched me for a hoe 👍🥲 wanna call?

A mischievous smirk poked at the corners of Jungwon’s lips, “He can find out.”

“WONIE, IF YOU COME ANY CLOSER, I SWEAR YOU’RE SLEEPING IN YOUR OWN BED TONIGHT!”

❁ if y’all can’t tell already, i am dangerously jungwon biased…

❁ anyways, thanks for reading “Joystick” by @chlorinecake! be sure to check out more works by me on my enhypen bookshelf!

[pasiveagressive]

Final Girl - CL16

liked by people, madelyncline and others

enews Queen of Slashers! Scream queen and final girl icon Y/N L/N is set to star in another horror movie! Check the link in our bio to find out everything we know as well as our ranking of Y/N's best final girl moments!

tagged youruser

View All Comments

User28 her movies are a halloween tradition for me!

user24 oh wow... i wonder how the movie will end? y/n the only one left alive... shocking

user94 i wish she would branch out more and take on some different roles

liked by youruser, charles_leclerc and others

scuderiaferrari Look who is joining us in the Paddock this weekend! Let's bring some of that final girl luck to C^2!

tagged youruser, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55

View All Comments

youruser thank you for having me! so excited to be in paddock this weekend!

↪️ charles_leclerc not as excited as I am that you are here!

↪️ carlossainz55 that might be true, you coming is all he has talked about for weeks

↪️ youruser well I hope I measure up to the hype 😁

liked by charles_leclerc, f1 and others

youruser Using my lungs to scream Forza Ferrari this weekend instead of ahhhhhh

tagged scuderiaferrari f1

View All Comments

user28 'instead of ahhhh' she's so funny

user03 when your fav actress supports your fav team ❤️

charles_leclerc Leo and I can't wait to hang out with you later

↪️ liked by youruser

scuderiaferrari FORZA FERRARI

↪️ mclaren We think you should be screaming Go Papaya!

↪️ redbullracing definitely should be screaming Du Du Du Du

↪️ scuderiaferrari get your own guest of honor

liked by f1wags, charlesleclercupdatez and others

f1gossip Y/N and Charles looking very friendly today in the Paddock

tagged youruser, charles_leclerc

View All Comments

user38 are they not allowed to be friends without everyone reading into it?

user83 she is literally there as a guest of Ferrari so yeah I hope they are friendly 🙄

user9 they would be cute together but I agree with^

liked by charles_leclerc, roscoehamilton and others

youruser Don't worry everyone I met Ferrari's number one guy! Leo has been a great host this weekend!

tagged charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari

view all comments

charles_leclerc Leo wants to know what you think about his dad?

↪️ youruser you can tell 'Leo' I will have to let him know after the race, it really depends on if his dad podiums or not 😉

↪️ charles_leclerc i'll tell him

roscoehamilton yous needs to come visit mercedes and meets me 🐾

↪️ liked by youruser

scuderiaferrari glad to see that you have had a great tour guide this weekend!

↪️ youruser he's been perfect!

liked by youruser, f1 and others

charles_leclerc P1 BABY!

view all comments

user30 congrats!

user93 YESSSSSS!

scuderiaferrari great weekend!

↪️ charles_leclerc had to do the tifosi proud!

landonorris great race mate!

↪️ charles_leclerc you as well mate!

youruser you can tell Leo that I think his dad is pretty cool!

↪️ charles_leclerc ❤️

carlossainz55 great weekend in scarlet

liked by f1wags, formulagossip, and others

paddockgossip Charles and Y/N spotted in Monaco this week!

view all comments

user03 um hello new ship!

user78 they would be so cute together!

user30 guys stop pushing a dating agenda on the drivers, they could just be friends!

liked by scuderiaferrari, maxverstappen and others

youruser it's a race weekend ❤️

tagged f1, scuderiaferrari

view all comments

user02 love that she has turned into as much of a fangirl as the rest of us!

user99 TIFOSI

scuderiaferrari glad to see you recieved the care package we sent!

↪️ youruser I did! I love every single piece of it! Thank you so much 😊

user94 anyone else noticing how more and more drivers are following her?

charles_leclerc wish me luck

↪️ youruser good luck😘

↪️ user49 um hello? anyone else seeing this?

liked by f1, youruser and others

scuderiaferrari Qualifying ✅

view all comments

user03 is y/n at the gp this weekend?

↪️ user23 sure looks like it!

liked by f1gossip, paddockgossip and others

f1wags Charles posted this on his story looks like Y/N is at the race this weekend!

view all comments

liked by francisca.cgomes, lilyzneimer and others

youruser 🌞🤙🏽

view all comments

iamrebeccad looks like you are having a great time!

lilymhe beautiful girl

user38 all these wags interacting with her post, something's fishy

liked by f1gossip, f1wags and others

paddockgossip Rebecca posted this on her story! is that Charles and Y/N?

view all comments

liked by youruser, danielriccardo, and others

charles_leclerc Summer ❤️

tagged youruser

view all comments

user30 say it with me

↪️ user30 ahhhhhhh

↪️ user93 ahhhhhhhhh

↪️ user38 ahhhhhh

↪️ youruser ahhhhhh!

↪️ youruser wait... what are we screaming about?

youruser lover❤️

↪️ charles_leclerc angel ❤️

maxverstappen you two are insufferable

↪️ charles_leclerc no one asked for your opinion

↪️ maxverstappen yet I gave it

liked by charles_leclerc, youruser and others

scuderiaferrari C^2 at the premier of Possession tonight!

tagged charles_leclerc, carlossainz55

view all comments

user93 these men are so fine

user03 🔥🔥🔥

youruser is the one on the right single?🥵

↪️ liked by charles_leclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, netflix and others

youruser Possession in Theaters Now!

view all comments

charles_leclerc 🥵🔥

↪️ youruser 😚

user39 mommy? sorry, mommy?

user94 I can't wait to see it!

liked by charles_leclerc, people and others

youruser so the movie has been out for a week now what do you think? did you see that plot twist coming?

view all comments

user47 this one is for all of you who were saying she could only play one type

user94 so good!

charles_leclerc you can kill me any day

↪️ user30 he's one of us

liked by youruser, maxverstappen and others

charles_leclerc many of you have guessed but here is my official statement,

I am so grateful to call this beautiful human mine! She is the kindest, funniest, most talented person I know. I am eternally blessed that she allows me to love her.

je t'aime chérie❤️

tagged youruser

comments have been disabled

liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc and others

youruser He beat me to the post but...

Charles you are, without a doubt, the kindest, hardest working, most beautiful soul I have ever met. Everyone who gets to share even a moment of your time can attest to that. The fact that I get to spend my life loving you is something I will never take for granted.

Happy 6 months mon âme. I love you❤️

tagged charles_leclerc

comments have been disabled

[honkytonk-hangman]

Line of Sight

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Masterlist

Summary: You're almost certain that Jake Seresin could care less about you, that is, until you're in a tight spot and the one guy you assume will hang you out to dry, instead comes to your rescue.

Warnings: language, creepy club dudes, hangman being a little cold but actually he's just shyyyyyy

Notes: this is for @ussgallifrey who let me bang on about the feelings this man has given me <3 honestly this might turn into a mini-series because i havent even begun to resolve all my emotions about this whole vibe yet

Series Masterlist

“Wait, is that Rooster?” you frown, trying to duck your head to see around the crowd of people at the club bar, your straw falling away from your lips as you do. “And Payback, and–” you cut yourself off, now certain of who and what you were seeing, and turn to look accusingly at your companions. Next to you, Phoenix follows your line of sight, but shrugs, seemingly unbothered about the impromptu appearance of the rest of Dagger Squad. Across from you, Halo winces guiltily, and lowers her brightly coloured cocktail away from her face.

“I may have mentioned our little soiree, and extended the invitation…” she admits, before hurriedly placing down her drink altogether and lifting her hands in a surrendering motion. “Look, in my defence, we’re all friends, and whatever you think about Hangman–”

“–It’s not what I think, Cal! It’s him who clearly doesn’t think much about me!” you stress, a little frustrated that your carefree girls night was now going to end up like all the other weekend nights you’ve had since befriending Dagger.

You loved Dagger, you really really did. They had welcomed you unofficially into the squad with open arms after Phoenix and Bob had adopted you one night at the Hard Deck. You’d been stood up, then dumped unceremoniously, and after crying off all your makeup in the bathroom, you’d been comforted by Nat, who had then introduced you to all her friends, all of whom seemed to dedicate the rest of their night to cheering you up. 

It was funny now to think that that was how this all started, but soon enough you were close with all of them. Well, almost all of them.

Hangman had been nice enough that first night, but after that it seemed as though he could care less about your presence at all. He wasn’t ever actively rude or mean to you, not at all, instead it was like you were just perpetually a stranger. Him snarking at you would be a step up, in your opinion. At least then you’d feel like he saw you as a friend, but as it stands now, his tight smiles and quiet chortles felt like a slap in the face compared to the mega-watt grins and regular peacockish behaviour he’d display with his other friends.

You hate yourself a little that it affects you so much. You know it shouldn’t, but you can’t help it. You liked Hangman. Although a little prideful and pricklish, you could see yourself getting along with him quite well, could exchange banter with him nicely, if he’d ever actually give you a chance. It certainly didn’t help that you weren’t immune to the way he looked, perfect in every single sense, smoulderingly hot even when he wasn’t trying. He was exactly your type, right down to a T, including, you suppose, the fact that he didn’t want you at all.

It had been bothering you more and more recently, and where once you would just shrug him off, now you realise, you’ve been actively avoiding hanging out with your friends, just to sidestep the kick in the guts that came every time he fixed you with a level, seemingly emotionless pity-smile. This week would mark one year since the night you’d been dumped and subsequently picked up again, and if you’d thought about it for longer than five seconds, you’d have agreed with Halo that you should have been celebrating with all your friends.

Phoenix easily waves down the boys, and soon enough your tall standing table is filled out with the rest of the team, and you let yourself relax for a moment as you accept several hugs, the longest of which is with Javy, who shakes you a little as he does, before he reaches for your drink and finishes it off in one.

“Happy one year, bay-bay!” he announces cheekily in the face of your protest, and you playfully swat him away. Coyote relents, but leans back just enough, with his mouth open, and you roll your eyes, before plucking the maraschino cherry from your now empty glass and placing it between his teeth.

The display is enough to make you laugh genuinely, and you watch with a far more relaxed and happy grin as Javy pushes back from the table, pointing at you, Phoenix and Halo.

“Another?” he asks, quickly gathering everyone’s orders and announcing the first round was on him as he disappears toward the bar. Unfortunately, that is when you realise his empty spot at the table is stepped into by someone else, and despite yourself, you can’t help but look.

If you hadn't known that he’d only just arrived, you might have fooled yourself into thinking Hangman been here all along, with how natural he looks leaning with one arm against the table, his eyes scanning the club behind you over your head as you take him in.

You refrain from cursing at just how good he looks in civvies. It was rare you’d see him in anything aside from either his flight suit or his tan uniform, and you’re fairly certain the only other time you had was at one of Dagger’s many beach parties, where he’d been barely dressed at all. Now though, Hangman is filling out a pair of dark wash jeans and a silk jade-green button down like nobody's business, his hair for once not slicked back and styled for work, and he has what you can only assume must be several days worth of stubble.

He looks goddamn good, and you almost vibrate all the way across the room because of it.

Bright green eyes suddenly lock on to yours, and you most hope he calls you out for staring, teases you relentlessly, but after a moment, he simply nods at you, and turns inward to the table.

“You look great,” he says simply, and after letting out a quiet sigh, you choose not to let this ruin your night.

“Thanks, so do you,” you reply, maybe a little sadder sounding than you intended. Hangman glances back over at you and your heart skips just a little when he lifts his chin at you.

“Same dress you were wearing the night that asshole dumped you, right?” His voice holds slightly more humorous inflection than usual and you hate yourself a little bit more for living for the crumbs he gives you.

“Yeah. figured it was thematic or whatever. Look at me now, and all that,” you wave a hand, and really try hard not to sound so glum this time, but you’re not sure it works. Hangman cocks his head, and you swear you see a playful glint spark in his eyes just as he opens his mouth, but unfortunately you never get to hear what he has to say, because Javy chooses that moment to reappear, placing down an armful of drinks and beers right between you.

With the reappearance of his friend, Hangman seems to go back to ignoring you, and you go back to pretending that it doesn’t bother you.

—

Five minutes ago you had been dancing wildly and laughing with Rooster and Phoenix, three drinks down and getting your giggle on. Now though, you’d managed to lose both your friends in the crowd, which had been okay at first, you weren’t exactly a wallflower and didn’t mind getting your flirt on with a stranger or two, but now, you were wishing hard that at any moment either Rooster or Phoenix might show back up again and save you.

While you weren’t a wallflower, you also weren’t anywhere near as cock-sure as Halo or Phoenix, you weren’t the type of girl who felt comfortable stamping on a creep’s foot and telling him to fuck off and that you weren’t interested.

Which is exactly what you wanted to do right now.

You were trying to be polite still, for some reason, but the drinks in your system prevent you from really reacting as necessary, even as you attempt to move the hands of the guy you're dancing with back to your hips and away from your ass.

“Hey, look, I’m going to get a drink!” you yell over the music, trying to extract yourself from this guy, but just as your luck would have it, he nods happily and makes to move with you, his hands still trying to feel you up.

You move anyway, hoping that at least you might be able to lose him in the crowd, but your new shadow seems determined to stick with you. You really don’t know at this point how to shake him, and as a last resort, you desperately begin scanning the edges of the crowd for any of your friends, so you can try and make eyes for them to bail you out.

Strangely, all your friends seem to have disappeared from the table you’d left them at, even Rooster and Phoenix are nowhere in sight, but you do catch sight of something familiar toward the bar. For once you don’t dread the sight of Hangman and his expressionless gaze, and for once, you attempt to maintain eye contact with him as he glances almost dismissively over at you.

Maybe it’s the look on your face that causes him to doubletake back at you when he briefly looks away, but whatever it is, you’re glad for it, because the next thing you know, the blond is frowning at you, his eyes flickering between you and your unwanted companion. You watch as he straightens up from leaning against the bar, his face filled with the kind of determination that you had only seen on him during the more heated rounds of pool at the Hard Deck.

You could almost let out a cry of joy when he pushes away from the bar and begins beelining towards you, seemingly making sure that he doesn’t lose sight of you even despite the throng of people that he has to weave in and out of. When he’s only a few metres away, his expression shifts from almost angry, into an easy cocky smile that he’s never directed toward you before. It nearly throws you off step, but even if it had, it wouldn’t have been an issue. In a few short strides, Hangman is in front of you, his arm smoothly slung around your shoulder and he uses it to tug you a few steps into his side, and away from your prior dance partner.

“There you are,” he says sweetly, actually sounding glad to see you for once. In your sheer relief at his rescue, you let your hand fall to his chest, your fingertips gliding over the soft silk of his shirt, which doesn’t go unnoticed by him. You blink up, mouth open to utter a soft thank you, and get ready to excuse yourself from the other man’s company, but a tugging at your hand cuts you off.

“Uh, I thought we were getting a drink,” the other guy interrupts, looking accusingly between you and Hangman. The blond barely even looks at him, an insult you know well, before he’s focused back on you, and arm around your shoulder pulling you even closer into him, and forcing your dance partner to release you.

“I’ll take it from here,” Hangman says to him, though he’s gazing at you, doing a damn convincing job of seeming lovesick. “You thirsty, sweetheart?” he adds as he begins to turn you, lead you away from the scene, and you find yourself embarrassingly speechless, only able to nod at for once being on the receiving end of Hangman’s notorious charm.

“Whatever, just so you know man, she didn’t say she was taken,” you hear from behind you. 

“She shouldn’t have to.” Hangman doesn’t even stop moving as he turns his head to shoot back, though his voice is filled with more annoyance than you’ve ever heard from him before. You could almost trick yourself into thinking he was actually mad on your behalf.

“Fucking slut.” The words are just loud enough for the both of you to hear, and even though you tense up at the accusation, you expect the both of you to keep moving, at least until you’re away from this guy. That doesn’t happen though. Hangman does stop this time, though unlike before, you don’t see a trace of anger on his face. Instead, he takes a step back toward the other man, his arm dropping from your shoulders to wrap snugly around your waist. He smiles wide and full, completely infuriatingly, and you see him size up the creep, look him deliberately up and down before he tips his head and opens his mouth.

“And yet, she’s still not going to fuck you,” he stays smiling, wide and cheshire-like. You feel yourself drop into a pool of complete and utter enamour with him, as at last he pulls you away again, leaving your unwanted partner behind, mouthing dumbly at the killer of a takedown he’d just endured, now totally forgotten by the both of you.

You’re still recovering from the utter annihilation when you finally reach the bar, and at last Hangman lets his hold on you drop, and he comes to stand next to you at the bar. He’s still grinning, though it looks like it's to himself, but it widens ever so slightly when he glances down at you while motioning for the bartender. He orders himself another beer, and the same cocktail Javy had stolen from you earlier before you’re finally able to get your thoughts straight again.

“Thanks for that,” you say, nodding towards the dance floor. Hangman looks almost surprised for a few seconds before he shrugs and pays the waiting barman.

“S’nothing.” he waves you off, but fixes you again with a slight frown moments later. “Are you alright? You looked pretty upset when you were trying to shake him.”

You think this might be the most genuine emotion the man has ever shown you, and you’re too far gone to question why, for now you simply want to bask in it.

“I’m no good at telling guys to piss off. Mostly they get the hint, but sometimes… that’s why I always stick with Phoenix or Halo,” you explain a little bashfully. You know how confrontational Hangman can be, you’d seen it for yourself tonight, so you know he likely sees your lack of assertiveness as some kind of weakness. Maybe that was why he didn’t like you?

Hangman frowns again, deeply this time, and hands you your drink. For a while he doesn't say anything, but it makes you anxious the way he doesn’t stop staring at you even as he takes a good long drink of his beer. After a moment he relaxes somewhat and glances away. You’re hoping maybe he’ll drop it, or maybe some of your friends will come along and spare you whatever comes next, but he doesn’t, and they don’t.

Hangman points back toward the dance floor with his beer hand and fixes you with a hard, intent stare.

“You feel like that again, you come find me, alright? I’ll tell them where they can go,” the blond tells you firmly, making you blink and splutter, but he holds up his hand and waves you off before you can deny him.

“Halo doesn’t always come out with us, and Phoenix and Rooster are currently eating face, so,” he takes half a step toward you and leans lower into your space, almost making you stumble back. “Next time,” he slings his arm across your shoulder again and grins almost maniacally. “Let Hangman sort them out for you.”

For the first time you really feel like perhaps Hangman is warming up to you. No longer were you feeding off the crumbs of attention, now you see the man revel in your sputtering embarrassment, fully teasing you like you’d wish he would for the past year. You were in his sights now, and you feel your whole body trill with satisfaction.

[stxrrynightskies]

𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

°｡⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: k. kenma x reader

⋆｡° ✮ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: boyfriend headcanons for my first ever anime crush <3

⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: i'll try to be more active from now on on this account! my inbox is open if you have anyone you would like me to write for!

♡ he was very straightforward when he confessed to you, although, it took him quite some time to actually blurt it out

♡ most date nights with him involve sitting on the couch or in his room with him and just enjoying each other's presence

♡ you make him want to put in as much effort as he can in the relationship

♡ he will never hesitate to compliment you whenever he can (which is pretty much everyday)

♡ his day gets better when he sees you, and his entire attitude changes (all of his teammates can see it)

♡ he likes it when you lay your head on him while he plays games

♡ would never tell you, but absolutely adores it when you play with his hair

♡ he'd let you dye parts of his hair any colour you want (within reason)

♡ always insists on paying for dates (and quite literally fights you to pay)

♡ always has the best stories to tell you about his team

♡ often insists on you to stay home when he has games because he doesn’t want to mess up in front of you (but he plays better when you watch)

♡ kuroo once asked you to walk with kenma to practice because he knows you're the only one who could ensure that he'd follow you, so it became a daily thing

♡ he will literally shoot the nastiest glare at anyone who tries to flirt with you

♡ not too big on pda, but doesn't mind the occasional hand-holding

♡ hugs > kisses (with the exception of forehead kisses)

♡ usually stays up pretty late but insists on you going to bed early

♡ on weekends, he'll think of fun things to do when it's late (baking, a trip to the convenience store, gaming, even just cuddling)

♡ sleepovers all the time

♡ and when you don't sleep over, you'll facetime until you fall asleep

♡ he likes noticing the small things about you that not many people notice (and he'll make sure you know that he knows)

♡ usually a dry texter, but when you guys have deep, late night chats, he's often the one who'll talk/text more

♡ sometimes feels bad for not being the best boyfriend he can be (or at least that what he thinks)

♡ he loves it when you wear his sweaters or t-shirts

♡ gets a little anxious when he's with you around your friends, but always agrees every time you invite him to go with you to hang outs

♡ enjoys laying his head on your lap a lot

♡ the two of you (mainly kenma) get teased a lot by his friends

♡ you would raise one of those digital pets together and he would bug you when you aren’t giving it enough attention

♡ pokes you or tugs at your clothes when he wants you to pay attention to him

♡ matching phone charms with him

♡ he always makes sure you’re hydrated and that you’ve eaten something proper everyday

♡ he’ll set for you if you ever want to practice hitting

♡ he lets you play with and style his hair when you’re bored while he’s gaming

♡ always tells you that claw machines are a scam, but he’d help you win a prize regardless (because for some reason, he pretty much always wins something)

♡ has been thinking about buying a promise ring for the two of you, but is afraid that it’ll be bad luck

𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃!

[cutielando]

conflict of interest | l.n.

synopsis: requested by anon: i recently saw a lando fanfic where the reader was a famous football player’s daughter and she was besties with maguis ex bf (joao another football player) but the story line was that she’d gone to a gp lando grew an interest in her but she rejected/dissed him because of the rumors of him and magui and i was wondering is you could do something like that!

warnings!!: a little hate towards magui (i have nothing against her and her relationship with lando in any way !!!! but it was necessary for the story to be spicier), jerk!joao (for like a split second)

my masterlist

You didn’t know what you were expecting when you got invited to attend a Formula 1 race weekend.

You knew nothing about the sport or how it worked, the only thing discussed in your household being football and your father’s career. Day in and day out, the only thing that surrounded you was football.

Even though your father had always said that he didn’t want to pressure you into liking or practicing football, he secretly wanted you to follow in his footsteps.

Imagine his internal disappointment he felt when you told him you wanted to become a model. He, of course, supported you and helped you in every way that he could have ever thought of, instead shifting his entire focus regarding football on your best friend, João. 

You and João have known each other ever since you were little children, growing up in the same neighborhood and given that he had always looked up to your father and his career. Growing up, whenever you would hang out with João at your house, him and your father never missed out on the opportunity for some early-on training and strategy talks.

That didn’t stop even when João actually became a football player. Your father and him sometimes talked more than you guys did, if you were being honest.

But you understood the shared passion that made their connection so deep.

Even with your modeling, you were keen on following your best friend’s games, always finding time and watching it wherever you were around the world. But that was not the only sport that you followed.

Formula 1 had become your guilty pleasure ever since you did a photoshoot with Charles Leclerc for a jewelry brand in Monaco. You became very good friends with him and his girlfriend, Alexandra, whom you talked to regularly.

To nobody’s surprise, a couple of weeks after the photoshoot was published, you received a formal invitation from Ferrari to the race weekend at Silverstone. The most exciting thing in your life, by far, was getting the opportunity to experience the true feeling of the race weekend from the garages.

Figuring you shouldn’t go alone, you took João with you. 

“Why do you want me to come, again?” he asked while on the place, not particularly excited to attend an event in which he didn’t really have interest in or knowledge of.

“Because you love me and I didn’t want to go to the UK by myself” you had replied, which was enough for the footballer.

After you had checked into the hotel and made your way to the track for the qualifying session of the weekend, you were amazed by the multitude of people screaming all around the paddock and reporters taking dozens of pictures of you and João.

An interviewer motioned you over for a quick interview, prompting you to halt your walk towards the garage.

“Y/N, such a nice surprise seeing you here. Not really the kind of sport we’re used to seeing you attend, is it?” the woman asked, making you smile and laugh

“I suppose not, haha. I’ve been a huge F1 fan for a while now but my schedule has made it impossible for me to attend an actual race up until now” you explained, making the woman nod.

“And who are you the guest of today?” she continued.

“Ferrari. I did a photoshoot with Charles in Monaco a couple of weeks back and we because friends, so I’m guessing he talked the Ferrari team into inviting little old me to Silverstone”

“We saw you came with João Felix, is he your partner? What can you tell us?” 

You laughed, hearing João snort from behind you.

“No, far from it. We’re best friends, we’ve known each other since we were little kids, but there is nothing else going on between us”

You answered a couple more questions before deciding it was getting late and you would miss qualifying if you spent anymore time with the woman.

João and you made small talk as you walked towards the garage, seeing Charles talking to a guy in papaya.

“Hi Charles” you greeted him once you were within earshot, the Monégasque immediately hugging you and João.

“Y/N, João, I’m so glad you could make it. This is Lando, he drives for McLaren. Lando, this is Y/N, a model and very good friend and João Felix” Charles introduced you, making you smile at the curly haired man.

Making eye contact with Lando had been one of the most intense feeling you had experienced in a long time. The intensity of his gaze and the way his eyes moved over your body had your senses tingling.

“It’s very nice to meet you” he said, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it.

You almost blushed, but a scoff from your right made you snap out of your happy bubble. João was glaring daggers into Lando’s head, which made you furrow your eyebrows as you looked at him.

He shook his head and mouthed later, making you nod.

“Well, we have to get in the cars, but I hope you have a great time” Charles said, saluting you two before departing with Lando, who smiled and winked at you as he walked back to his garage.

“No” João demanded once he saw the way your eyes were following Lando as he disappeared into his garage, giving you one last look before he was out of sight.

“I didn’t do anything” you defended yourself, scoffing once you saw the distaste with which João was looking at you. “What the hell is your problem? You don’t even know the guy and you’re acting like he killed someone”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t have to know what he’s like to know that he’s an idiot. Do you not read the news?” he asked, at which you shook your head. 

You didn’t really have the time nor the desire to read tabloids, knowing what kind of articles they tend to write.

“You know I don’t believe in anything the media writes” you explained, rolling your eyes.

“Well, I believe what videos say. And he’s been seen with Magui” your eyes widened at the mention of his ex-girlfriend.

The mere thought of Magui being in a relationship with anyone made you sick to your stomach, especially after what happened with João.

“Oh” was all you could say, and the conversation ended there.

You couldn’t lie and say that the new information didn’t disappoint you. Wanting to see it with your own eyes, you decided to look it up on the internet and, fair enough, there were videos and pictures of Lando and Magui driving around Monaco.

While driving around didn’t really mean anything, you felt it like a punch to your gut. Every single time you would become slightly interested in someone, something had to come in between.

Shaking the thoughts from your head and deciding you would not speak to Lando for the remainder of the weekend, you enjoyed qualifying to the most, the feeling of watching firsthand what was happening was unlike any football game you had ever attended.

It was something special.

After you had arrived back at the hotel and were left alone once João decided to hit the city, you decided on having a quiet night in with some room service and a movie. Settling into the comfy bed, you had barely put on the movie when you heard your phone go off.

Looking at the notification, your heart starts racing when you see it was a text from Lando.

lando

hi there

is this y/n?

y/n

yes?

how did you get my number?

lando

charles gave it to me😅

y/n

hahhaa lol

did you need something?

lando

yes, actually

i think we both felt something earlier today

when we were introduced

and i was wondering if you wanted to go out?

y/n

ummm

hahaha

i don't think that's a good idea

lando

why not?

did i misread the situation completely?

i tend to do that sometimes

y/n

you didn't misread anything

i felt something as well

but i don't think your girlfriend would agree to you asking me out

or even talking to me right now

lando

girlfriend?

i don't know who you're talking about, i'm not dating anyone

y/n

lando

let's not pretend people don't follow the news

you've found magui, and i wish you both happiness if you're together, but given what happened with her and joao, who's my best friend, i don't even think we should be speaking right now

lando

woah, woah, woah

slow your horses

i don't know what news you've been reading

but i'm not dating magui

she's simply a friend, we have the same friend group but that's it

i know about the situation with joao and i would never associate myself with someone like that

does joao think i'm with her?

y/n

yeah

he's the one who told me to be careful

cause he saw the photos and video and shit

lando

i can assure you

i'm not dating her and i don't have the intention to date her

y/n

i don't know

lando

please, just think about it for some time

you don't have to give me an answer right now

y/n

okay

i'll think about it and let you know

lando

thank you, thank you, thank you

Throwing your phone on the bed as far away as possible, you let your mind wonder. Was Lando telling the truth? Was he really not dating Magui?

João had seemed so sure that they were together, so sure that she had just moved on to the next celeb and sure that Lando had just fallen for it. That’s why he had been so hostile towards him and so against you even talking to him.

But you couldn’t deny the butterflies that you felt when you talked to him just now, how excited the mere thought of being with made you. You couldn’t ignore it, and frankly, you didn’t want to ignore the feeling.

You hadn’t realized how long you had been stuck in your own thoughts, not until you heard the hotel room door open and João stepped into the room.

“What were you thinking about? You were lost in thought” he said, shrugging off his jacket and falling backwards on the bed beside you.

“You’re gonna hate me if I tell you” you said, playing with your fingers.

He raised his head at that, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Hate you? I could never hate you, no matter what you would do” 

You sighed, knowing he was right. There was no way he would ever hate you, he physically couldn’t think badly of you.

But this would test that idea pretty well.

“I talked to Lando tonight” you said, not even looking at him but knowing how he was glaring at you.

“I told you to stay away from him and her” the venom dripping from his tone at the thought of Lando and Magui didn’t go unnoticed.

“Look, I know what she did to you was unforgivable, and I hate her for how much she hurt you. You know that. But I talked to Lando, and they’re not dating. She’s just a friend he has in common with the people close to him, he would never date her because of what she did to you” you explained, trying to diffuse the situation.

João sighed, shaking his head. He turned to look at you, seeing the look on your face; a look he knew all too well.

He knew he had no right telling you who you should or shouldn’t talk to. He didn’t like it when you did it to him, he had no right doing it to you. But he had just been so angry at Magui for what he had done to him, time and time again after he had forgiven her, and he lost it when he saw the man in front of him.

However, looking at you in that moment, he knew you needed this. And he didn’t want to be the one depriving you of that.

“Okay” was the only thing he said, making your head shoot up and your eyes widen.

“Okay? What does that mean, okay?” you asked cautiously.

“If you want to go out with him, you can go out with him. I have nothing against it” he said, which prompted you to squeal and jump on him to hug him, chanting thank yous in his ear. “But, if he does anything to hurt you, I’m not afraid to fight him” it made you laugh.

Without wasting a single moment, you picked up your phone again and sent Lando a message, smiling giddily.

so, about that date?

comments and re-blogs help us grow!

much appreciated!!

REQUEST HERE