#but i did not because of my professionalism

[harrysfolklore]

can we get ONE sneak peek from wolff girl x max?

hmm okay you can

"This is a terrible idea," Max whispers as you pull him through your back door, both of you giggling. "Your dad is literally upstairs."

"He's dead asleep," you assure him, carefully closing the door. "He took sleeping pills for his flight tomorrow. Besides, he sleeps like the dead anyway."

Max still looks like he's ready to bolt at any second. "YN, if he catches me here-"

"He won't." You tug him closer by his shirt. "Unless you keep talking so loud."

He glances nervously at the stairs. "Your room is up there? Past his?"

"Scared, Verstappen?"

"Terrified, actually." But he follows you anyway, both of you carefully avoiding the creaky third step you'd mapped out years ago during teenage sneaking attempts.

You're almost at your door when Max freezes. "Was that-"

"Just the house settling," you whisper, but your heart is racing too. "Come on, we're almost-"

A door opens down the hall.

Max actually whimpers. You shove him into your room just as Toto's voice calls out, "YN? Is that you?"

"Just getting water, Papa!" you call back, praying your voice sounds normal. "Go back to sleep!"

"Everything okay?"

"Fine! Those pills should be kicking in, right?"

A yawn. "Ja, starting to feel them. Goodnight, Schatz."

"Night, Papa!"

You wait until you hear his door close before slipping into your room. You find Max standing perfectly still in the middle of the floor, looking absolutely terrified.

"I think I'm having a heart attack," he announces in a whisper. "I'm actually having a heart attack. I can see the headlines now: 'F1 Driver Dies of Fear in Team Principal's House.'"

You try not to laugh. "You're being dramatic."

"Dramatic?" His voice rises slightly before he catches himself. "YN, your father was ten feet away from me. Ten feet! Do you know what he would do to me if he found me here?"

"Well, first he'd probably have a heart attack himself-"

"Not helping!"

"Then probably murder you-"

"Still not helping!"

"And Lewis will hide the body-"

"Why did I agree to this?" He runs his hands through his hair. "I'm a professional athlete. I have championships to win. I can't die in Toto Wolff's house because his daughter is too pretty to say no to."

You wrap your arms around his neck, grinning. "You think I'm pretty?"

"I think you're trying to kill me." But his hands settle on your waist automatically. "If your father walks in right now-"

"He won't."

"But if he does-"

"Max." You kiss him softly. "Stop talking about my father when you're in my bedroom."

[wlwsoccerfics]

Clingy Girlfriend (Grace Clinton X Russo Reader)

Summary: If is time England Camp and you finally See your girlfriend again. You two are doing Long Distance because she plays for Manchester United and you okay for FC Barcelona.

Warnings: some talks about siblings having to compete with one another, migraine, throwing up.

"Baby!" You hear Grace voice and then you nearly got knocked over because she was jumping on your back, but you managed to keep her up with your arms and steady yourself so you wouldn't fall.

"hey Love!" You said and smiled gently. "I guess asking If you missed me isn't necessary anymore after this!" You replied and giggled softly. Ella walked over with your sister.

"hey little Sis!" Alessia said and smiled at you.

"thank god you are here! Every day at practice she was talking about you y/n! It was getting annoying!" Tooney told you, playfully rolling her eyes.

"hey Less! Hey Ella! What can i say? I am amazing!" You let them know. Winking softly, obviously joking. "But on a serious Note, GracieBean? Where is my kiss?" You asked. Grace quickly got down from your back and turned you around. Kissing you softly. You kiss back and smile into the kiss.

"get a room!" Your sister yelled out, chuckling softly.

"These two in one room and the entire floor won't be able to sleep at night! They haven't seen eachother in a while! So they aren't sharing!" Leah stated, walking over. Smirking softly.

"hello Captain!" You answered teasingly. Hugging Leah, before hugging your best friend Hannah. "Hi Hampton!" You playfully said. "Hi little R." She answered, hugging you back. Smirking softly.

You shared a room with Beth while Grace shared one with Lucy. It did feel like the two were chosen to make sure the two of you didn't sneak into eachothers rooms. Both of you clearly weren't happy about this.

It didn't take long before there was a knock on the door of your room, which Beth opened and Grace walked straight past her, into your open arms.

"i needed some cuddles!" She informed you.

"you two saw eachother like 40 minutes ago!" Beth stated. "I know long distance sucks. But please remember to Focus on Camp too!" She added.

You and Grace look at her, frowning softly.

"playing for two different countries and making a relationship work is way harder then playing for two different Teams in the same country. Both hard but it's even more challenging for us." Grace explained. She sure didn't sound like a 21 year old. But more like someone in their 30s with way more life experience then she actually had. Same goes for you though. You are 22 years old.

"yeah Beth i agree. For you and Viv it's challenging, for us it's even worse." You replied and held Grace close.

"i know, i know." Beth answered with a soft sigh escaping her lips.

"we are very professional and when we are on the pitch or at practice we will be very focused!" You tell her gently. Offering her a small smile.

"okay good. i will be downstairs and play some games with some of the Girls. So you two can have some alone time, just remember we have practice in three hours." She stated and smiled at you before leaving the room. Leaving the two of you alone.

You cuddle with Grace, fingers intertwined. Kissing every now and then. Just enjoying eachothers company.

"i feel so lucky that i get to love you!" Grace told you. You smile at her.

"you are sweet Babe. But i am the lucky one! I can't believe how much love i always feel from you. You don't make me feel like i am second best or like i have to compete for favorite Russo." You explain to her. "I know it's not a competition and i am proud to be Lessis sister but it just sucks that people always seem to compare the two of us!" You admitted. She kissed your head. Holding you as close as possible.

"you two may be sisters but you both have your own personality! And you are different people! There shouldn't be people comparing you with one another!" Grace stated. "And if that helps, i like your sister but for obvious reasons you are my favorite Russo!" She added and smiled a little. You smiled back.

"i would hope so." You replied with a genuine giggle escaping your lips.

You two get ready for practice in your seperate rooms before meeting up with everyone else in the Hotel Lobby.

"the lovebirds actually managed to make it on time!" Tooney said teasingly.

"i am always on time!" You stated and chuckled softly.

"not always!" Alessia replied, teasingly.

"okay you two leave the little lovebirds alone!" Mary answered with a soft smile. You walked to the trainings pitch, holding Grace' hand while talking to Hannah.

You did some drills and partnerd up with Grace, no one was surprised about that. The two of you were working well together. It was like, you didn't even have to talk to one another ,but still managed to communicate with your eyes.

After that you did some practice games. 3vs3 and you played with Ella & Leah against Beth, Lucy & Jess. This was alot of fun and a good way to start of England Camp.

When practice was done you all went to shower and decided to meet up for Team Dinner later that day.

You got out of the shower and dried yourself off. Putting on some England shorts & an England Hoodie, before walking out of the bathroom and over to your bed. Beth went to take a shower next. You felt a migraine coming up so you took some meds, hoping you caught it just in time. But unfortunately around 10 minutes later you realized that it in fact was too late so the migraine was in full swing now.

You laid on your bed. Legs pulled up to your stomach. Eyes closed. Focusing on your breathing, wanting to breathe through the pain.

Beth walked out of the bathroom, dressed up in an outfit that was similiar to yours. She saw you lying there and knew right away what was going on. Having seen that many times when Viv had a migraine. Cause unfortunately the dutch Woman struggled with it as well.

"sweets, anything i can do?" Beth whispered out. You sniffle softly.

"can you get Grace for me, please?" You asked her.

"yes of course." She answered but closed the blinds before she left, walking to Grace' room. Lucy was the one who opened the door.

"what's up, Meado?" Lucy asked.

"is grace here? Y/n is asking for her. She is having a full on Migraine right now." The blonde answered.

"damn, poor, Russo!"Lucy stated, not having much time to say anything else because Grace was already walking past them. In a hurry to get to you. Beth quickly followed her. When the door to the room was opened you weren't in your bed anymore though. No both Grace & Beth could hear you throwing up.

"i will be hanging out with Leah, good luck!" Beth turned around and walked out quickly. She wasn't good with hearing people throwing up but always managed to pull through when it came to Viv.

Grace walked into the bathroom , kneeling down next to you. Rubbing your back and holding your hair. "I have got you babe." She whispered out.

After a few minutes you were finally done. Leaning against Grace.

"i am so angry with myself." You sobbed out. Grace was really confused, frowning softly.

"Love this isn't your fault!" She said softly. Kissing your head gently.

"feels like my body is betraying me! We see eachother only a few times a year and i now manage to ruin one of the times with a migraine. I am sorry Baby!" You sighed sadly and tried to stop yourself from having a full on emotional breakdown.

"hey stop. This isn't your fault! You didn't ask for that migraine!" She answered. Cuddling you and managing to calm you down. Helping you brush your teeth before carrying you back to bed. Holding you close. Laying down with you. You took a hold of her like a koala baby did to it's momma, but you didn't care how clingy you were right now. All you wanted was to be close to your girlfriend.

You ended up sleeping for the rest of the day, Grace staying with you the entire time. She even spend the night and Beth stayed with Lucy.

You felt much better the next day but everyone still was keeping an eye on you. Especially Grace but also your sister. It was good to know that you both were clingy. And neither one of you cared.

[sage-nebula]

In my personal opinion, all three of these have a high probability of backfiring. They assume that the person you're interacting with knows your intention, and/or is interacting in good faith, but on the chance that isn't true (and there is a good chance there isn't), all this will do is escalate the situation and make it worse.

To explain in detail:

"Are you okay?" — This comes across as incredibly passive-aggressive and patronizing if it's said in response to someone who is, by all appearances, in fine health. Particularly if the person you're speaking with is already in a hostile mood, they won't read this as concern, but rather as mockery, and it WILL further escalate the situation. Further, the HR representative has every opportunity here to put their own feelings into what you meant: did you have genuine reason to believe your coworker was in distress? Or were you passive-aggressively insinuating you believed they were deranged? Because the coworker believes the latter and that's why they reported you (after yelling even more in response to you passive-aggressively calling them crazy).

"Could you repeat that for me?" / "Can you explain what you mean?" — Playing dumb can work if, and only if, the coworker is genuinely not an asshole. However, some people are. And these people will see these questions and repeat / explain themselves in an even more condescending, insulting way: slowed down speech, over-enunciated sounds, little words. Now, you could get them with HR even harder for this, but you're taking a hit first.

So, what should you say instead? Here is your step-by-step guide.

Step 1: Acknowledge Their Issue — This is NOT the same as apologizing. If you genuinely did something wrong, by all means, but if you didn't, don't claim responsibility for something you didn't do! Here is a good stock response: "I understand where you're coming from, and see how that would be frustrating."

This acknowledges their feelings, which is an important step in deescalation. Even assholes often just want to be heard and validated. However, we are not done. IF the asshole doesn't deflate after having their feelings soothed, you'll need to move onto Step 2. (You can also lead right into Step 2 if this is all through email or Teams.)

Step 2: State Need for Professionalism — In this step you both stand up for yourself, and make it explicitly clear what your intentions are, in a way that cannot be misconstrued. Here is a stock phrase: "I feel that this conversation has become a bit heated. I ask that we remain polite and professional for the remainder of this discussion."

Using "I feel" language removes any chance that the coworker can say you accused them of anything. You aren't insinuating that they're crazy or anything like that, but rather just saying that your perception is that this conversation is heated. You are also asking for polite professionalism, which is an expectation of the workplace, but in such a way that it CANNOT be twisted into an accusation (but that YOU know is commentary on your coworker, and your coworker will understand as well, without being able to use it against you).

But we're still not done! If they continue to bluster and storm, Step 3 has got you.

Step 3: End the Convo, Involve Higher-Up — In this step you both disengage the rude coworker, and cover your ass (CYA). Here is a stock phrase: "Apologies, but I do not feel that continuing this conversation will be productive for either of us. I will see if we can resume this conversation with [manager / HR] present. Good day."

Saying that you don't feel the conversation is productive communicates the message that they are not communicating effectively, but once again in a way that cannot be twisted into an attack on their person. Furthermore, "productive" carries the connotation that YOU are interested in working with this person, which will look good to whichever higher-up you involve next.

Because at this point, you DO need to involve one. This is to CYA. Controlling the narrative is crucial in workplace disputes and that means being the first to report the situation. Pick whoever is most appropriate; if you and the coworker share a manager, you can go there. If not, HR would be the better bet. Even if you share a manager, you can still go to HR if you trust them more. It's up to you.

If this confrontation took place in person, walk away after saying this and go to either manager / HR to explain the situation. If the coworker tries to stop you, just repeat that you don't feel the conversation is productive and request that they move out of your way. Such a thing will attract attention, so it's important you seem as reasonable as possible while they make themselves look worse.

If this confrontation took place over email, immediately forward with an explanation of what they will be looking at. Here is a good template:

"Hi [Manager / HR name],

I wanted to bring to your attention a conversation [Coworker] and I just had, in case it has potential for further issues to arise. The conversation was initially about [situation], however, I feel that [Coworker]'s language was disrespectful and not conducive to a working relationship. I would appreciate it if you would review the situation and speak to [Coworker] on my behalf, since I do not wish for this incident to escalate further. Every email between [Coworker] and myself is included in the chain below.

Thank you,

[Your Name]"

This template accomplishes several things:

It alerts the manager / HR person to the fact that there is an issue.

Provides context as to why the issue happened.

Does not seem accusatory toward the coworker; accusations will work against you 9 times out of 10.

Places emphasis on wanting to maintain professionalism and productivity, which are things both managers and HR people also want.

Asks M / HR to take over the situation.

Provides the full conversation (i.e. the RECEIPTS) so they can see what went down.

By this point you might be thinking, "These sound like robot responses! Why do I need to include lines about professionalism and productivity? Why do I need to weasel around accusations?"

The reason to all of these is: this is how you both play and win the game. You're not in this to dunk on your rude coworker; you're in it to shut them down. And the way to do that is to be clear, specific, and get / keep management and HR on your side. That means getting to them first, and keeping yourself sounding reasonable in contrast to your asshole coworker. Stating intentions clearly means your words can't be used against you; using words like professionalism and productivity will make M / HR believe you really care about this workplace.

This is how you win. Trust me. (Source: Master's in communications management, mid-level managerial experience, and over a decade of experience deescalating and dealing with assholes in the workplace.)

Tips and ideas for how to respond when someone is being rude to you

For personal reasons I won't get into, I have a history of just freezing when some is rude / hostile / aggressive / condescending / patronizing / etc. It's obviously not something I'm happy about at all, most people who freeze or fawn aren't happy about it and would change it if they could.

One day I confided in my co-worker, a middle aged woman in her 50's, that this is something I struggle with. Considering how confident and assertive she always struck me as, I was shocked when she told me this is also something she's struggled with.

The advice she gave me is to just memorize and practice a few broad statements or reactions that you can pull out of your pocket so to speak when someone is being rude or disrespectful to you. It's not easy if you're someone who's been conditioned to freeze or fawn, but practice helps. Practice saying these things when you're alone. Put up a sticky note next to your bed or on your bathroom mirror with these phrases and practice them when you see them. Practice saying these with a partner or trusted friend, role-play scenarios where you might need to use these phrases.

Here's a few phrases that have worked for me. The nice thing about them is that they tend to shut down the situation rather than escalating, while still letting the aggressor know that you don't find their behavior acceptable.

"Are you okay?"

This works well in professional settings, because it's not like your work place's residential bully can run to HR about you asking if they're okay (but they might if you try to retaliate and give them a taste of their own medicine). However, it still effectively sends the message "I think there's something wrong with your behavior and don't accept it". It's also not likely the response they're expecting, so it'll likely throw them off and prevent further verbal aggression.

"Could you repeat that for me? I didn't catch what you said."

This one is most effective for people you believe to actually have a conscious and might regret what they said if they actually thought about it a little more. I find that often when I do this one, when people repeat the rude/snippy/patronizing/etc thing they either shamefully stumble over their words and show some remorse, or they change altogether what they say. In the off chance they don't regret what they said and end up repeating exactly what they said, this at least buys you some time to think of a better reaction since you're no longer caught off guard by a sudden rude and snippy remark.

"Can you explain what you mean by that?"

Similar logic to the last one. Often when people are being rude/snippy/patronizing/etc they're caught up in their own emotions in that moment and didn't think it through. This is a polite and civil way of putting their rude behavior in the spotlight and making them reconsider what they said. The other advantage to this one is that in case you did misread their intentions and they meant no harm by what they said or did, this gives them an opportunity to clarify that, instead of you just feeling bad over a statement or actions they actually had no ill intentions with.

If anyone has any further examples of reactions / responses / statements that have worked for them, I'd love to hear about them. I'm new to studying the art of how to civilly yet effectively shut down bad behavior from others, so I'm always open to hearing more suggestions.

[jjslvt]

BOSS ── .✦ nsfw, mdni, 18+ .ᐟ.ᐟ

[ actor!jj maybank x fem photographer!reader] 2.7k wc.

(includes v fingering, p in v sex, no anal but being bent over a wooden chair at some point, unprotected sex, rough ish? creampie, back scratching, hair pulling, use of the word “slut” & dirty talk)

notes: THIS IS THE SAME FIC; just the name has been changed to jj maybank because i felt bad using rudy’s name asdfghjkl. listen, i’m from eastern culture. to me, it was a mistake. i wanna respect him y’all plus i was thinking of jj when i wrote it as idk the actor personally. to everyone who reblogged the original, can you pls undo it

(and be safe when having sex btw!)

imagine jj maybank in his mid 20s, who somehow ended up being an actor and you’re his photographer for photoshoots. he had a sponsorship with boss clothing brand and you were immediately asked upon to take the photographs. the only problem was… you could barely fucking focus at times.

there he was in the photo studio, leaning on a wooden chair. dressed in a black wife beater and blue jeans slightly pulled down to show the boss brand underwear. he had his usual silver rings, few silver necklaces on too and a bracelet. he looked like a five course meal but you did your best to keep calm & collected since this was an important shoot.

it didn’t help that jj would be a bit flirty. he’d thrown you glances after you would snap a photo; glances that seemed to be quite teasing, cocky even, like he just knew what this was doing to you — you didn’t know if you wanted to punch him or fuck him. both?

now you two had a friendship outside of work and you did find him highly attractive though you never told him. it wasn’t always this way — you didn’t become his photographer for selfish reasons (you needed money & he loved your work. simple) but over the course of the few years you have been photographing him, you got to know him personally and that friendship easily came.

however lately, you’ve been feeling a lot more than just friendship.

you didn’t know if he already suspected it since he really was giving you some looks and comments over the last few months. even when you first walked in for this shoot, he greeted you with an ‘ah, there’s my pretty photographer, are you doing a photoshoot or am i?’ which was slightly cheeky. you brushed it off as jj being jj but you wondered a bit.

it was time to snap the final photo and what does he do? he lifts up that shirt and your eyes instantly land on that happy trail of his. you gulped, feeling your professionalism want to vanish. you had done a damn good job keeping it together externally, only zoning out maybe twice for a few seconds but you felt your heart rate pump up so much and his gaze was intensely on you. he was watching where your eyes landed and smirked a bit to himself.

your eyes couldn’t help but start roaming up to every place of his exposed upper half, your hands almost trembled holding your camera.

‘why the fuck did he have to be that hot?! SHIT, focus.’

he was totally your type, there was no more denying it.

jj cleared his throat with a slight smug expression like a sexy bastard, “you gonna snap the photo, sweetheart?”

‘he did not just call me…’ you took a sharp inhale, wryly smiling and nodding.

“of course, relax jay.” you couldn’t help but be a tad snarky because internally you were a mess — your mind was all over the place. but he only let out a chuckle at it, finding it amusing.

“ready? pose for me in three, two, one…”

and man, did he give you a damn good pose but you also took that shot well. his fans will be eating these photos up. his lips parted slightly as he gave the camera a sexy gaze while holding his pulled up shirt between his hands, a nipple showing — you could see the some chest hair on him and his biceps, which you wanted to take a bite of, being shown off. you lowered the camera now that it was over and his hands went to his sides, shirt pulled back down. you already missed the exposure of his upper body. you were officially down bad.

‘oh, fuck me.’

“if that’s what you really want… took ya long enough to say it.” he bit his lip slightly, wearing a shit-eating grin and you froze up.

had you just said that out-loud rather than in your head? oh, the panic was real.

your eyes must have widened so much because he laughed and understood.

“yeah, my pretty photographer, you said ‘oh, fuck me’ out-loud…” he was still smug and he walked over to you, meanwhile you could feel your legs shaking a little as he approached and your face going red.

‘he keeps saying MY!’ your brain screamed. but it was just like jj to speak that way.

he stood right in front of you then took the camera, setting it away before returning. tilting his head as he suddenly grabbed your chin — forcing you to look directly at him, nowhere else.

“and did you not hear my reply back?” his tone was so serious, your jaw wanted to drop.

you were lucky, it was just you two in the studio. you let out a heavy breath you didn’t even know you held as the tension was heavy enough to slice through with a knife.

“hey, did you mean it?” he asked, almost with a pleading look in his eyes while he still had a hold of your chin. he softened up, almost like needing reassurance.

you decided to just give in because you were already wet and pulsing for this — and trust, he was aching too. he didn’t seem to mind either so you bit the bullet.

“yes.” you whispered and he let out a pleasant sound of approval.

“finally y/n. fuck, c’mere.” his hand at your chin dropped to grab your side and his other free hand doing the same as he tugged you as close as possible — you leaned towards him, grasping onto that shirt and he crashed his lips against yours in a desperately, searing kiss.

your body shuddered against his as you held onto him, a pleasant noise escaping your mouth fast as you opened it a bit and he took that opportunity to plunge his tongue right in — he groaned at the taste of you as your tongues started wrestling together.

he gripped your waist so tightly and started backing you to the wall, lips never latching off yours. once he had you backed up, he started moving his face down, kissing your jawline then your neck and sucking slowly while murmuring in between, “you don’t know how long i’ve actually wanted this… all i can think about is ruining you.”

you let out gasps and pants at that, your hand going into his messy hair to tug lightly and he responded but biting into your neck eliciting a moan out of you as he started sucking a hickey to your skin.

“seriously y/n… every photoshoot with you has driven me wild. you don’t see how gorgeous you look…” he whispered hoarsely now, still working on your neck but also starting to slowly roll his hips into yours.

“sometimes i wanna be behind the camera, taking photos of you instead…. you’re a fine work of art, y’know?”

“ah, ah…” you whimpered, feeling your underwear get so damp by this point. his words only making you feel more hot & bothered. he’s looking like that and hyping you up right now? what a man.

“jj…” you let out another sweet and sinful whimper, letting your hips buck into his teasing rolls, making him gasp harshly.

“god, my name never sounded better than now. i’ve wanted to ruin you for a while, fuuuuck.”

he got off you but stayed close, taking his rings off & shoving them into his pocket — just as you were about to protest, confused, his one hand quickly slid into your pants and underwear, his middle finger sliding up your slick folds.

he stared at you so hungrily, leaning his forehead onto yours, “you’ve been this drenched for me, babe? holy shit…” he muttered.

his arousal growing tenfolds like yours — you literally felt a huge ache in your pussy, even your heartbeat reaching down there and when he pushed that finger in, you let out wanton moan right in his face.

“ohhhh!” you couldn’t help but rub yourself more into his finger.

“you know what… i’m not that surprised…” he whispered with desire, curling his finger inside you making your legs tremble more. he began his ministrations, quickly adding another finger to which you gladly took. you always imagined those hands doing something to you.

you could barely listen to him but he kept speaking in that delicious voice, “you were eyeing me up like i was a feast today… don’t think i didn’t notice.”

your core was squeezing his digits so hard, tensing already for release. his confidence was just so sexy right now — everything was making you go crazy.

“ah, ah…” you ground into his fingering even more.

“such a pretty thing… i can imagine how many filthy thoughts you’ve had about me now.” he started moving his fingers faster. he also used his thumb to start rubbing your clit.

“don’t worry, i’m filthy too… wanna cum already, sweets? all over my fingers?” he egged you on and you nodded.

“then cum, let me feel it.”

and you definitely reached your release because as he said that, he found the perfect spot to work the circular motions of his fingers. you opened your mouth but he covered it with his lips, swallowing up all the lovely sounds you produced from your first orgasm.

when you finished, he pulled away with pride and took out his hand — licking off his fingers, tasting your cum and you knew, more was coming. hell, you needed more because the sexual energy was still alive & skyrocketing.

“you taste just like how i knew you would, fuckin’ divine… like the forbidden fruit meant to be stolen by me.”

‘when did he get poetic!? what, jesus christ.’

your heart racing from the words and breaths coming rapid from the experience. those perfect hands were coated in your cum and he was tasting it. this felt like a fever dream. your need for this man coming back, increasing heavily.

you just wanted him inside of you already.

“say it, y/n.” he read you like an open book again.

“… i want you to fuck me.”

“there’s my dirty girl.” his smugness seeping back. “and i’ll fuck you. i’ll make sure this perfect photographer knows who she belongs to now.”

─────────────────────

that’s how you ended up, sitting on that wooden chair, straddling his lap with his cock thrusting up into your pussy. your arms around his neck as you held onto him, letting him control it all.

he felt frantic, gripping your waist with those strong hands and bouncing you down onto his thick cock while he would rut upwards sharply making you cry out in pleasure. he needed this so badly.

he took it slow at first but intensely, slamming so well that you saw stars almost then he couldn’t take it after a while. your cunt clenching tightly so he went faster, feeling the veins on his dick protruding and throbbing.

you were also letting him fuck you raw so you can feel every inch of that perfect manhood. your velvet walls feeling like a wet and warm haven to him.

“god, i knew you… hngh, knew you could be a slut for me…” his voice was thick with lust and strained from this pleasant feeling.

“uh, uh… a-ah!” you couldn’t speak coherently as the tip of his dick just kept kissing your womb. he was pulling you down so hard with each thrust upwards.

“letting me fuck you raw… squeezing my cock like a vice,” he panted.

“always the sweet ones… with the innocent looking faces, right baby?” he continued, feeling your hands suddenly touch his back, nails starting to dig into his skin a little.

he let out a rough chuckle, not letting up on his fast pace. “oh, you wanna mark me now? am i talkin’ too much?”

“y-yes…”

“but you love it… can feel that greedy pussy tighten up with every comment i make.”

you let out a croak because he was correct — you had no problem being his slut and letting this beautiful man do whatever the fuck he wanted right now. your body certainly took him in well, stretching for him and with much greed, engulfing him. with your blood rushing through your body feeling ablaze — your face buried into his shoulder, nipping while your nails gently grazed his back. holding back force and he noticed.

“go on, make me your artwork… mark me up, beautiful… haa.” his thrusts upwards punctuated every single word there, commanding you and your nails dug in, scratching him up.

he felt the slight pain mixed with pleasure and let out a guttural groan, “that’s it… show how much you want me too.”

you felt your walls tensing up, your second orgasm approaching and he was right there with you but he pulled out, holding your hips above his dick as you cried out, squirming.

“jj!!” ‘what the fuck?!’

he bit his lip so hard that it went red, struggling himself from that action but moved with swift precision. in no time, he had you bent over that little wooden chair (that magically held you both this whole time without breaking) and buried his cock right back into your pulsating walls. his head thrown back as the sensations were welcomed again.

“NGHH…!” your eyes squeezed shut as he was buried to the hilt again — every line on his cock rubbing against your tight walls.

he grabbed your hair as he started pounding into you fast, making the chair screech and squeak. the sound of his balls hitting your flesh echoed along with the groans and moans.

your head pulled back from his pull as he leaned his body onto your back while fucking you. you two felt the buildup rising again quickly.

his face going to the side of your neck and his tongue licking a part of it before he mumbled with a wrecked voice, “w-where… do you want me to cum?”

you had been so worked up that your lips just let out the true desire, “i-inside… please…”

he let out a low moan, dick pumping faster at the suggestion as he tugged on your hair a bit harder — his body tensing up so much as he was getting a bit sloppy and needy.

“fuck. really are my slut… gonna let me fill this pussy up, huh? even begging, what a lucky man i am… hngh.”

you were shouting out at this point because he was hitting your g-spot with those powerful, chaotic strokes. you completely submitted to him and it made him feel great, knowing someone with some fire as yours finally let every wall down.

“god, yes… i am! please, ah…!! i want i-it.”

that last plea of yours was his final straw as he let go of your hair and collapsed onto you, spilling his cum so deep into you as you also came with him. your walls had fluttered and your eyes rolled back. his dick twitched with every spurt that was painting your insides white. he let out your name in a long, deep groan.

and… well, that chair couldn’t handle it anymore as it finally broke causing you two to crash to the ground but the fall was small and not too bad. making you both somehow laugh deliriously because you two were totally in a massive daze, heads spinning from the sex.

“damn… we just did that, huh?” he roughly spoke, coming off the high and rolling off you — a grin was plastered on his face as sweat was glistening from the studio lights off you both.

“we did… haa…” you were catching your breath, barely able to move.

as he rolled to the side and slowly got up, he reached down to pull you up and keep you steady. your mixed fluids pouring out of you, dribbling down your thighs and he sighed in contentment, licking his lips at the sight. if he wasn’t so spent right now, he’d wanna do it again because that sight was a turn on.

“was that… okay?” he genuinely asked, hoping nothing went too far. “you feelin’ okay baby?”

you smiled, though still a little hazed but the high was calming for you too, “it was more than okay. it felt great… we were both into it.”

he sighed in relief then before he could say something, you made a joke, “though i can’t say the same for that chair… poor thing put up a fight.”

he snorted, pulling you in for a hug; burying his face into your hair as he murmured, “the chair is a fuckin’ legend…” he teased.

“but next time, we can break my bed, mama.”

[vettelsvee]

THE CALL OF LOVE | Sebastian Vettel

Primary School Teacher!Sebastian Vettel x Primary School Teacher!Reader ↳ Teacher AU ⋆ Part of CLASSROOM GOSSIPS

SUMMARY: Seb is the cool, annoying, extroverted teacher, while you are the shy, introverted and perfectionist one. Seb phones you all the time because he wants to get closer with you somehow but, also, he knows that you suffer from pretty bad anxiety and wants to respect your boundaries. However, when you have to go to Seb's class and ask him for help after your classroom becomes pure chaos, he finds the perfect opportunity to become closer with you... only to find out that, definitely, you want to get closer with him as well even your anxiety says otherwise ↳ BASED ON THIS POST I MADE TODAY!

WORD COUNT: 4798

WARNINGS: Mentions of anxiety, curse words. Lots of fluff (I loved this Seb btw).

TAGLIST: @koalapastries @blushmimi @herdetectivetheorist @awnmaneez

VEE'S NOTES: Third Teacher!Seb fic in a row since you asked! Hope you liked it as much as I loved writing it! Thank you for all the love you're giving to this, really, I'm so grateful <3 ↳ TALK TO ME / REQUESTS! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

Although it wasn’t enough for many, you were more than happy being a teacher at one of the most well-known schools in Heppenheim, a small town in Germany. 

Now that you had achieved your dream, all you wanted was things to flow perfectly. The main problem? Your anxiety and constant need for perfection, which were the most notable things about you. On top of that, there was the strict routine that was almost impossible to deviate from. However, the real problem lay in everything related to socializing... not with your students or their parents, but with the rest of the teachers.

Sebastian Vettel, the teacher of the other 2nd grade class, had also started working there that same year. Although you initially thought your relationship would be a calm one, the reality was far from that. Seb was the complete opposite of you: a walking chaos, with more than enough confidence and a charm that made him some kind of superhero to his students.

You tried your best to keep a professional relationship with him, but it was impossible. When you wanted to do a project on biodiversity with perfectly structured activities aligned with the curriculum, Seb preferred to take them outside to let them see it for themselves. If you thought it would be a great idea for them to write a small essay about Christmas, Seb preferred to show them a movie because, in his words, “they would have time to write when they’re older.”

And if that wasn’t enough, Sebastian had the annoying habit of calling your classroom phone several times a day with ridiculous questions:

“Miss Y/L/N speaking,” you answered as calmly as you could, while still supervising your students coloring.

“Y/N!” Sebastian shouted from the other end of the line. “Hey, quick question... Do our students need permission from their parents to go out?”

“To go out? Do you mean… recess?” you frowned.

“Of course!”

“No, Sebastian, the kids don’t need permission to go out during break. It's mandatory,” you added with a hint of sarcasm.

“Great, thanks! By the way, did you know the hold music is super cute? I thought you'd want to know since it's as cute as you and…”

You hung up before he could continue.

The next day, the same thing: Sebastian called just to ask whether necessary needed one "c" or two. The day after, it was to ask whether the coffee in the teacher's lounge was free.

It was never anything serious. There was never an emergency or anything like that. It was simply Sebastian Vettel asking you the most stupid things, things he already knew perfectly well. Despite that, you forced yourself to answer the phone, trying to calm your anxiety while giving him a quick, convincing response to get him off the line, before hanging up.

You knew you could ignore him, but deep down, this strange routine had become your favorite part of the day.

And, unbeknownst to you, for Sebastian, it had too.

Seb knew exactly how you felt about him; about any interaction with your colleagues, in fact. He was fully aware that you were a little scared of speaking in public. He could tell by moments like when you nervously played with a pink pen with butterflies every time you had to speak during staff meetings, or when during the Christmas play, just before going on stage with him and your students, you excused yourself by saying you were about to vomit... something that wasn’t entirely an excuse.

To him, you were the brightest person he had ever met. The way you taught, how you cared for your students, how he noticed you watching him when you thought he wasn’t paying attention... Seb knew that being this persistent could have the opposite effect on you, but as much as he wanted to take a step forward and maybe become a friend, he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or pressure you into anything you didn’t want.

So, Sebastian decided to stop calling you.

You were puzzled when the phone didn’t ring. At first, you considered it a good thing, but as the hours went by, you realized something was missing.

The day felt endless, something that rarely happened to you. The same went for your mood, which had plummeted. And as if that weren’t enough, the art class turned into an absolute disaster, and you didn’t know how to manage it, no matter how hard you tried to calm your anxiety and think of alternatives to wrap it up as soon as possible.

Your students only needed a few minutes working on their own, making animals out of paper-mâché, while you corrected math tests, to turn the class into a total mess. There were strips of paper everywhere. The younger kids had glue all over their hands, leaving trails everywhere. One of the blue paint cans had even fallen to the floor, spreading quickly.

To make matters worse, when you tried calling Sebastian to see if he could bring you a mop, the phone decided to stop working.

You sighed and looked at the door separating your classroom from his, realizing that you had no choice but to admit to yourself that, as hard as it was to ask, you needed help.

Without saying anything to your students, you took a deep breath and shyly cracked open the door.

Sebastian was sitting at his desk, gesturing dramatically with his hands while his students stared at him as he seemed to be telling them a story.

"So, there I was, in front of a goat, after losing my parents. And do you know what happened next?" he said, walking dramatically and opening his eyes wide.

“What happened, Mr. Vettel?!” the kids shouted.

“The goat ate the sandwich my mom had made me for the trip.”

The class burst into laughter.

You couldn’t help it and laughed too, stopping when the embarrassment of having to interrupt the class just to ask for help washed over you once again. You couldn’t just walk in there like it was nothing, and—

“Oh my goodness! Look, kids, we have a surprise guest!”

You paled. The 30 second graders all turned towards you at once, their faces lighting up as if they’d seen an alien.

Then, they started chanting your name and running toward you to hug you, forcing you to step inside. Sebastian hopped down from his desk and approached you, arms crossed and wearing a smile that, if you were honest with yourself, you were dying to see.

“What do I owe the pleasure, Miss Y/L/N?”

You clenched your fists, knowing there was no way around it.

“Well… I need your help, Mr. Vettel,” you admitted in a low voice.

Sebastian blinked. Although it took him completely by surprise, he didn’t say anything else. Instead, he turned to his students.

“Alright, kiddos. I need you to be really good and stay quiet for a moment while I help our favorite teacher, okay? I’m right here, so if I hear any shouting, I’ll take away your snacks and Friday’s movie tradition.”

A collective gasp spread through the class, but Sebastian didn’t have to say anything else. Immediately, all the kids went back to their seats and pulled out books to read.

To your surprise, they didn’t make another sound.

“Come on, Miss Y/L/N, lead the way.”

You followed his lead, and then it was you who invited Seb to come in. Once he stepped inside, the German had no words. Instead, his eyes started to scan the room.

“Wow…”

“Yeah, I know…” you sighed.

Sebastian slowly turned to face you, trying not to laugh. Of all the chaos, what surprised him most was that one of the kids, named Martin, had his shirt stuck to the chair, covered in glue, and three desks were completely covered in the same blue paint that was on the floor. To top it off, the stain you had seen moments ago had spread not only on the floor but also on the clothes and faces of many of your students.

That’s when you realized the worst.

A group of girls was standing, whispering to each other, around the hamster cage in the class... which was empty.

“Y/N…” Seb lowered his voice. “Tell me the hamster’s in the cage, but I don’t see it…”

“It’s somewhere in the classroom. The problem is, I don’t know where, and there’s only half an hour left before the day ends…” You admitted, feeling quite embarrassed.

“Are you telling me there’s a dwarf hamster loose around here?”

“Are you going to help me or what?” you snapped, frustrated, glaring at him. “Look, Sebastian… We don’t have much time before we have to leave, and if I don’t get the kids out at the exact time, just like they were brought in, you know the parents are going to go crazy…”

“Relax, Y/N. I got it.”

You didn’t have much idea what could be going through Sebastian’s head, let alone how he’d manage to fix this, but you tried to relax and give him a chance for everything to return to normal little by little.

To your surprise, that’s exactly what happened.

Not only did he divide the children into small groups to do simple tasks, like going to the bathroom to clean up, looking for the class hamster (which they found almost immediately, curled up beside a cabinet), or collecting the materials they’d used and putting them away, but he also took both classes to the school exit so you wouldn’t have to face desperate parents asking why their kids looked like they’d just been on a jungle expedition.

The bell marking the end of school had rung half an hour ago, and you were fully aware that most teachers had probably packed up and gone home by now. Sebastian hadn’t even appeared to tell you that his students had returned safely to their parents, and, for a reason you knew all too well, that disappointed you.

You sighed, trying to let go of those thoughts and illusions that shouldn’t matter so much. Instead, you focused on the pile of papers on your desk, the art supplies that still hadn’t been put away, and the paint that, no matter how hard you tried to clean it off the floor, seemed impossible to remove. You decided to calm down and start with something simple, like putting away the materials and picking up tiny pieces of paper from the floor.

“Do you know school’s over for today, right?”

You turned to the door. Sebastian was leaning against it, arms crossed and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up. He threw his backpack on the floor and walked over to sit next to you, helping you pick up the papers without any explanation.

“No… I didn’t hear you come in…” you confessed in surprise. And I wasn’t expecting you, you thought.

“That’s because I’m as sneaky as a ninja. The kids tell me that all the time,” he smiled, glancing at you sideways.

Seb continued his task, silent, scanning the classroom. It was no longer the disaster it had been just an hour ago. Now, the desks were perfectly grouped in fives, the class materials seemed to finally be in place, and, to your surprise, the stains had disappeared from everywhere.

“Y/N, you should go home,” Sebastian told you, standing up and helping you to do the same.

“I just need to finish cleaning up a little more…”

“Or you could not do that,” he interrupted.

You let out a small laugh for the first time that day, carefree. You were nervous and exhausted, and Seb knew that perfectly well.

“I just want to make sure everything’s perfect for tomorrow,” you admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“We managed to not kill a hamster with twenty-something kids running around and stopped the paint from getting on the walls, and you’re telling me you want to make sure everything’s perfect for tomorrow?”

“Well… yes,” you answered, looking down and biting your lip.

“That’s pretty adorable, honestly,” Sebastian said. Realizing what he’d just said, and that it might make you uncomfortable, he corrected himself. “I mean, as in your passion for teaching and everything…”

Stop fooling yourself and be honest with her, Sebastian.

“Well, I wouldn’t say it’s that, but…” you tried to articulate, your cheeks completely red.

“Well, the thing is: what else can I help you with?” Sebastian asked, unable to stop smiling. The fact that you were embarrassed by something so simple seemed so cute to him that he couldn’t stop looking at you.

“Excuse me?”

“I said, what can I help you with, Y/N?” he repeated slowly.

“Well… the truth is, you don’t have to—”

“I know,” Sebastian interrupted. “But I want to help you.”

You stared at him, unable to respond. You were used to helping people, not being helped yourself, and that left you speechless.

“What’s left to do?” Vettel insisted with care, moving a little closer to you while still keeping his distance.

“If you want, you can put the exams on the desk into the folders beside them,” you finally said, giving up.

“On it, Miss Y/L/N.”

“But really, Sebastian, you don’t have to—”

“If you tell me again you don’t need help, I’ll have to punish you with no recess.”

You burst out laughing, and to Sebastian, it sounded like pure medicine. For the first time that day, you didn’t feel like a total failure.

You worked in complete silence, letting time pass as you finished organizing everything. When you were finally done, you slumped into the chair and started checking your emails, wondering if any parent had decided to make your day even worse by sending a complaint after the day you’d had. To your surprise, there was nothing. What did surprise you, though, was that Seb came in with two cups of hot chocolate and a bag of sweets that, even more surprisingly, were your favorites.

“Here you go,” he said, offering you one of the cups while placing the bag on the table. “You were so focused that I didn’t want to bother you by saying I was leaving. And, well… I also wanted to brighten your day a little.”

You thanked him with a smile and didn’t hesitate to try the chocolate, which tasted like a real victory after such a bittersweet day.

Then, you closed your computer, put it in your bag, and, to your surprise and his, turned your chair to face him.

“What’s going on?” you said, noticing that Seb was looking at you… strangely.

“Nothing. It’s just… you.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Sebastian cleared his throat, not knowing what else to say. Instead, he shook his head and set his mind on doing what he had promised himself when he started working there: to try to become friends with you.

“Tell me about Miss Y/L/N’s teaching philosophy,” he finally said.

“Excuse me?” you hesitated.

“Come on, let’s go. I know you have one. You take this job too seriously not to have some kind of ritual or something to make everything go perfectly…”

“Except for today,” you replied.

Seb didn’t say anything because he knew how much you’d keep beating yourself up. Instead, he took a chocolate from the bag he had brought, unwrapped it, and placed it beside you. You finally accepted it without complaint, but with a smile in return.

“Well… I guess I want them to feel safe,” you started to say. “I want them to know that no matter what happens, it’s okay to make mistakes or not be perfect sometimes… I want them to know that I’m here for whatever they need, and that they can be great people in the future.”

“That’s amazing, Y/N,” Seb nodded slowly, unable to take his eyes off you.

“It’s not a big deal…”

“Of course it is,” he replied. “You care a lot, don’t you?”

“More than you can imagine…” you swallowed, feeling a little vulnerable.

“I can see that perfectly, yes.”

“Really?”

“Seb nodded, playing with his mug.”

“You’re always the first one to arrive, and I’d swear the last one to leave. You do the most original activities and, at the same time, try not to die in the process, even though today was the exact opposite,” you both laughed. “You want to be perfect for them and try to give your best.”

“Is that bad?” you asked cautiously, tensing up a little.

“Not at all,” Seb answered immediately. “But sometimes I think you should stop being so hard on yourself and just go with the flow. You know... let things just happen by themselves.”

You were about to answer, but he continued:

“You’re a great teacher, Y/N. You don’t need to prove it to anyone but yourself, okay?”

Something in your chest tightened. You weren’t used to hearing things like that, especially not from your colleagues.

Or maybe you never gave yourself the chance for someone to recognize your well-done work, thinking it had never been, and would never be, enough.

You kept talking to Sebastian about a bit of everything, feeling right at home. The hours passed, and between questions about how you both ended up being teachers, what motivated you to dedicate your life to it, and how you both ended up in Heppenheim, it was already 7 PM.

You glanced at the clock and immediately stood up, quickly starting to gather your things, which made Seb alarmed.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, worried.

“I should go…” you said, grabbing your backpack and slinging it over your shoulder. “I need to catch the bus before it gets too late. It’s the last one of the day and…”

“Wait,” he interrupted you. “You take the bus home?”

“Uh... yeah?”

“This late?”

“I’ve been doing it since I moved here, so it’s nothing new.”

“And no one’s offered to take you home? Not even to share fuel expenses and stuff?”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Of course it is,” he replied. “From now on, I’ll take you home.”

Your eyes widened, surprised.

“Sebastian, you really don’t have to…”

“I’m not going to argue with you,” he cut you off, taking your backpack, offering his hand, and leading you out of the classroom, making sure to turn off the lights before you left.

“I don’t want to be a bother…”

“Do you think you’re a bother just because I want to take you home and make sure you arrive safe?” he asked, stopping in the middle of the hallway and still looking at you. “I’d be a terrible friend if I let you go alone on the bus, especially this late with all the drunk creeps around.”

You froze. Friend.

“Come on, let’s go,” Seb spoke again. This time, noticing you were shivering, he wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or from your nervousness, so he decided to put his jacket over your shoulders. “The day you let me help you a little more, we’ll be the best team the world’s ever seen.”

You didn’t say anything else until you reached Sebastian's car. Not even when you sat inside after Seb opened the door for you and turned the heat on full blast.

“Well…” Seb broke the silence as he placed his hands on the steering wheel. “Where to, Y/L/N?”

“You want me to guide you all the way?”

“Do you expect me to guess the way?” Vettel joked. “Y/N, I’ve got balls, but none of them are crystal, so…”

Embarrassed, and especially starting to overthink whether Seb would start judging you not only for your answer but for the entire day you spent together, you simply gave him the directions.

Seb, knowing you might be feeling down and, unlike the whole afternoon when you talked about everything, seeing you retreat into yourself again, started asking you a bit of everything. Why did you decide to move to Heppenheim, such a small town? What was your favorite place? Did you like your neighborhood?

You weren’t used to that flood of questions, and especially not to people showing interest in you. Since you were very young, you always felt left out, like you didn’t belong to any group...

But with Seb, it was different. It was like he actually cared about you, and you couldn’t help but feel incredibly good about it.

“I like the new neighborhood. Quite cozy and nice...”

Seb parked the car in a small free spot in front of the apartment block where you lived. Then, he turned toward you with a smile, placing his arm behind your seat.

“It’s very quiet, which is great when I need to grade or when I just want to read and relax.”

“Oh, are you one of those?” Seb teased.

“One of what?”

“One of those teachers who reads all the time.”

“Seb, we’re teachers,” you were surprised to call him by his nickname so naturally, but you didn’t regret it. “Of course, I read all the time.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, but what I mean is, do you read for fun?” he corrected himself. “Do you read those dirty books or the inspirational ones that tell you how to be the perfect teacher?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you hit him on the arm.

“I read for fun.”

“That confirms it, you do read those dirty books where they’re constantly... you know… having sex in the dirtiest ways…”

“They’re called romance novels, Seb,” you corrected him, ignoring his comment. “The last thing I read was a romantic novel, okay? With no sex in it, by the way.”

“I knew you were a hopeless romantic…”

“I don’t know why I even told you anything…” you whispered, hiding your face in your hands.

Seb wanted to reply with something more, to joke around with you, but he knew that for today, it had been enough. What mattered was that you had felt comfortable and, most of all, opened up a little more with him that day.

Silence fell between you both again, but neither of you dared to say anything else. Not even you, who had yawned a couple of times and were dying to get home and get into bed without even having dinner, made the effort to get out of the car.

You didn’t know why you were so hesitant to leave. It was easy: thank Seb, say goodnight, get out of the car, and walk into the building without waiting to see if he drove off. Instead, you decided to stay there, by his side, your hands resting on your legs, feeling safer and, above all, happier than you had in a long time.

Seb didn’t say anything either. Instead, he focused on the streetlights, growing brighter with each passing moment, while his fingers drummed on the leather steering wheel.

Finally, you were the one who decided to take the step, to both your surprise:

“Well... I felt really comfortable today,” you admitted, with a calm voice.

Seb turned toward you suddenly, surprised.

You swallowed nervously, trying not to let the anxiety consume you and, above all, trying to stop the embarrassment from taking over. 

"Well, I was thinking that... we could do this once in a while..."

Sebastian's lips curled into a smirk.

"What, reorganize a class and try not to die in the process? And not killing a hamster?"

"No, I meant...," you hesitated, then looked at him shyly. "I meant… spending time together. Outside of school."

That caught Sebastian off guard, but he couldn’t help the huge grin that spread across his face. He hadn’t expected you to say that, especially not after the chaotic day you'd both had.

"Wait..." he murmured, searching for the right words. "Are you telling me that... you want to spend time together, and not during class hours?"

You felt like you were going to die from embarrassment. Nervous and a little regretful, you weren’t going to back down though. You held your backpack tight, like some kind of protection, while fidgeting nervously in your seat.

"Well... I felt really comfortable today with you, and I thought maybe we could do it again. You know… grab a coffee, go for a walk..."

Sebastian didn't say anything. He just stared at you, unable to recognize the person in front of him, yet delighted that maybe, with a little bit of help from him, you had stepped out of your comfort zone, even if you didn’t seem entirely comfortable.

"Forget what I just said..." you mumbled.

You bit your lip, lowering your gaze, unable to look at him in the face. Sebastian, however, couldn’t have been happier in that moment.

"Not a chance. I like your idea. Actually, I’m more than happy with it."

His voice was calmer now, which gave you the courage to look at him. His blue eyes, which normally made you nervous and stole your words, now made you feel the same, but for an entirely different reason. You felt pressure in your chest, but this time it was nothing like the anxiety or fear of being judged and rejected.

"Hey," Sebastian spoke again, gently taking your chin and forcing you to meet his gaze. "Since, from what I’ve just heard, you don't mind spending time with me..."

"Seb, please, don’t ruin this moment..."

You narrowed your eyes, instinctively leaning toward his lips, and Sebastian didn’t hesitate to close the distance, pressing his lips to yours. At first, it was soft, like you both were making sure that was really happening not just in your minds. When Sebastian felt you sigh against his lips, something in him clicked. His hand, still resting on your chin, slid to your cheek, caressing it tenderly, while his other hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer as you unbuckled your seatbelt.

You let yourself go, feeling butterflies in your stomach for the first time in a long time, not because you wanted to disappear, but because you felt more alive than ever.

When you finally pulled apart, Sebastian rested his forehead against yours, eyes still closed.

"Tell me this isn’t a mistake, Seb..." you whispered, still confused about what just happened.

"If it is, I hope you, Miss Perfection, don’t mind."

You laughed nervously, filled with emotions and confusion, but mostly happiness.

"So... what now?" you asked, breathless.

"I love the idea of kissing you in my car like a couple of teenagers, but I think it’s getting too late and we have to get up early tomorrow. So, I have an idea."

You rolled your eyes, unable to stop smiling.

"I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning. How does that sound?"

"What?"

"Tomorrow's Thursday, Y/N. We have to go to class," Sebastian explained, as if you didn’t already know what he meant. "If I pick you up, you won’t have to wake up extra early to catch the bus."

Your heart skipped a beat. Yes, it was a simple offer, nothing extraordinary, but to you, it felt like more... like Sebastian wanted something more with you.

Like you mattered to Sebastian Vettel.

Seb saw the hesitation, the doubt in your eyes. He leaned in gently, and after placing a short but tender kiss on your lips, he spoke again.

"I know I don’t have to do this, but I want to," he assured you.

You swallowed hard.

Sebastian was serious. It wasn’t some bad joke like many other guys had made in the past. He really meant it.

"Okay," was all you could say.

Sebastian’s smile lit up his face.

"Great, princess. I’ll see you at seven-thirty here tomorrow. And I know it’s not necessary, but I have to remind you: please, don’t you dare being late."

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you opened the car door and stepped out, a smile forming on your lips like never before.

Then, you hesitated at the door, but you were ready to, for once in your life, stop trying to be so perfect.

"Goodnight, Seb," you said softly. "And... Thank you. For everything."

"Sleep well, best teacher in the whole world."

You walked toward your building, and when you were inside, you turned around to see if Sebastian had left. To your surprise, he was still there, making sure you had entered safely.

You both waved to each other, and as you climbed the stairs to the fifth floor, you realized that, for the first time, the anxiety about tomorrow wasn’t paralyzing you. 

Instead, it was tomorrow, alongside Sebastian Vettel, what were making you feel alive.

[blubunz]

YAP SESSION 3

— RE chars in general x gn! reader

《MINORS DNI!》

Tags: Sex. Just casual stuff nothing crazy. RE characters includes: Leon , Carlos, Ashley, Jill, Chris, Ada, Luis. Claire is mentioned but I don't write anything horny abt her.

A/N: I have a hunch I'm actually gonna be sick un,, not feeling so great. This is just what j think if it's based on normal stuff like no fucked up messed up situations whatever, just casual lovers making love and what they like.

Consensual.

Ok now that's out of the way, I have some preference in minds, obvi they're purely just my opinions.

Leon is like, the guy who swings with whatever you want. Rough? Yeah. He'll go feral. Gentle? Ok. He'll be so sweet, even moan for you I'd you want to hear them, in which most of the readers in my fic would love. Most of the time it's just you, you, you. Him asking you what you want. Princess treatment or absolutely feral, he doesn't have one in mind, he's just on board with whatever you want and if you don't say anything, he'll ask you what you want anyway while kissing your cheeks so sweetly.

Carlos,, grhfrgrhgrh, he's so bite-able. I think he's the soft type. Like, he can be rough, but most times, he chooses not to if you don't specify anything. He absolutely loves seeing you just getting satisfied and happy, so yes, he'd go rough if that's what you want, just not without you saying. Even when you did something bad, or if you hit him when youre on top, he'd just melt and cradle you in his arms, kissing you, and you two would have some cuddle-fuck session. In my mind, Carlos is very emotional and sentimental in his love life. I can ramble on about the same thing over and over, how he's an absolute king in showering you with too much affection.

Slapping? You're into that, but Carlos is scared of hurting you. Bondage? He doesn't want to see ropes burn into your skin, the only thing should be on your body are his marks and hickies.

So anyways, his biggest turn-on is seeing you getting so, so satisfied. This might make him indulge in overstimulation however, he keeps making you cum and seeing your brain melting after each orgasm. That's right, you don't have to think, just be happy of what Carlos is giving you — pure love and affection.

I don't get much thoughts fron other characters in a sexual way, but I'll think about it like rn. Both Leon and Carlos are hot to me so obvi they're like,, um, long, and,, the first ones I write about.

I think Ashley would be some vanilla stuff, and if you two both try to go into some kinky stuff, things just gets awkward because both of you never really know how to do it professionally, and then you two would just laugh and watch a movie.

Jill is like,, ohmygod,, she's so ourhrorhrirug. The Jill in my mind is like, into the casual stuff, but she prefers handling you as well. She mainly wants to see every once of your reaction so mind you usually sex with Jill will never be a quickie, she doesn't do it slow, but rather she just does a lot of things to finally let you go.

For Claire. No, idk, I never think of her in that way and when i think about it now,nothing comes to mind. I love her character! I just don't associate her with these horny stuff so no.

Chris, big beef guy, I like him too! I think he'd enjoy handling you like Jill. Ok, so he's be like, usually, dominant and rough, hed praise you though, but hes very rough, and he enjoys using his strength to let you know who's in charge. but like, you can put him down no matter how strong you are. One word, one pleading look and you got him all soften up and asking you if you needed anything. Usually, he's never the one to initiate too, he respects you and only fucks you when you want to. If he's horny and you're not then he's holding it in, not even letting you know. If he's not and you are, then, obviously he has the need to satisfy you in every way he could.

Ada is like, I think with how she is in the games, she'd know what you're into by now. You're an open book to her and she can read you. You didn't even have to ask, it's like she knows. It creeps you out honestly, sometimes, at how every time she knows what you need. Maybe she keeps track every month? She knows your kinks too, and when you talk to her, she's like,, "I know,," sometimes she surprises you during sex, turning the usual sex into one imof your kinks. She enjoys seeing you surprised following with the high amount of pleasure that follows suit.

Luis. A bottom.

[frogsandfries]

I was introduced to the concept of zines in college, because of a partnered creative project. The first zine I ever contributed to was about social media. It did cost a fortune to print because it was done at the school's favored print shop, in full color.

I don't know how prevalent small bookshops selling zines used to be before the age of the internet, but I think I've only been to one bookshop that sold zines. Which is a real loss, imo. I wish there were more small bookshops and that I had more opportunities to explore zines. I think it's kind of inevitable that the internet caused things to change. Chicken wings and ribs used to be poor people food until they got gentrified. Printing on paper used to be the only way to access and disperse information. Now that we have the internet, it's unfortunately not surprising that zine making has been gentrified.

Plus, I'm sure a lot of people who would like to make zines wouldn't know what to put in one that they'd actually like to share with people. Furthermore, it can be hard to swallow the concept of "if I spend five dollars, I can share this with (let's say three people, for example)" when I can hit reblog or forward or send or submit.......for free.

And then there is the cliche of turning your hobby into a grind. If I can spend five dollars, make three zines, sell them for three dollars apiece, etc etc, maybe I don't need enough money to sell a hundred zines, I just need money to make fifty and I can use the rest of that money for groceries or rent and still keep making fifty zines every time I want to make a new one.

Oh, let's not forget that a lot of USians don't carry cash often if ever, anymore, so now I have to factor in the cost of card transactions, into the cost of my zines. Most people aren't going to find themselves in an avant garde bookshop. Most people may not even find my zines on Etsy or Shopify. This kind of forces an (optional) evolution: if I make a fifty page basically a proper magazine, but because it's full of (idk messages about the best places for poor people to eat in LA), I 'can' call it a zine, I can sell it on like, Amazon, or use a Kickstarter and distribute it nearly infinitely.

I can't look at zines through a pre-internet perspective. I don't have that perspective. I understand that zines should be accessible to those who have very little if any money left over after Life. It can feel tempting to make the flashiest, full color zine. It can feel necessary to print your twenty page zine in full color. It can feel necessary to do the entire thing on the computer. It can feel necessary to make it as professional as possible. It can start to feel like making an "old school" black and white, no computer, xeroxed zine is going to get your zine looked over because it's not flashy enough and nobody likes plain ole boring black and white. Or if I add a cardstock cover, maybe my zine will look a little more professional.

I think a lot of us don't come into zines with any kind of mentor to guide us and regulate the culture, and us younger folks come into it with a mindset that we have to have in the rest of our lives: one upsmanship. If the last guy or the first zine we ever saw had a really professional looking cover, we need one full color page. If that guy used a black and white cardstock cover, we need a color accented cardstock cover, we need a glossy full color cover.

Anyway, all this to say, personally, I don't think zines are the right medium for my creative endeavors. I don't think I say this as like, begging for someone to prove me wrong. I say this as a person who cannot tell a short story. I don't need to rely on zines to get my fanfic (although, even if AO3 did not exist and a monthly zine was the only way to get my Spirk fix, personally, I still wouldn't know where to get some sweet sweet Spirk zines; but that's a me problem).

I feel like I'm about twenty-five years too late to the zine scene.

the whole point of a zine is that it's cheap to produce, amateur and homemade. if you're being asked to apply to participate in a print project, it is not a zine. if the final product is being printed and bound professionally, it is not a zine. if you are being asked to enter into any kind of licensing agreement more complex than "my work can be reproduced as part of this publication" it is not a zine. nine times put of ten if the final product costs more than $5 you have left zine country. im so serious about this.

[thejewishninja]

Okay. So. I read Wings of Starlight and loved it but no one else I know has read it because it’s sold out everywhere. But I need to go crazy and scream about it so Here are my Emotionally Charged Thoughts. Spoilers for Secret of the Wings but not necessarily the book.

AHHHHJSIDISODOOF DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG CLARION AND MILORI WERE APART!!!!!! CLARION IS 400 YEARS OLD IN THE TINKERBELL FRANCHISE!!!! *GNAWS DRYWALL WITH BARE TEETH* THIS IS A YA NOVEL AND BOTH OF THEM ARE YOUNG, PROBABLY IN THE 18-20 AGE RANGE. WHICH MEANS IT WAS 380 YEARS THEY HAD TO WAIT TO BE TOGETHER AGAIN. *PUNCHES CEMENT BLOCKS* THREE HUNDRED EIGHTY YEARS!!!! CAN YOU IMAGINE KNOWING THE PERSON YOU LOVE IS NOT VERY FAR AWAY FROM YOU BUT YOU CAN NEVER SEE THEM? NEVER TOUCH THEM OR HOLD THEM?? YOU CAN SEE THEIR HOME FROM AFAR RIGHT OUTSIDE YOUR WINDOW EVERY NIGHT AND YOU KNOW THEY ARE ALIVE AND WELL BUT YOU CAN NEVER BE WITH EACH OTHER?? *FISTFIGHTS THE OCEAN* OR IF THEY DID SEE EACH OTHER, IT CLEARLY MUST HAVE BEEN IN A SIMPLY FORMAL SENSE. CAN YOU IMAGINE SEEING THE PERSON YOU LOVE IN ESSENTIALLY A ONCE A YEAR BUSINESS MEETING FOR 380 YEARS STRAIGHT AND YOU CAN DO NOTHING MORE THAN STARE AT THEM LONGINGLY WHILE RETAINING A PURELY PROFESSIONAL DEMEANOR BECAUSE NO ONE CAN KNOW YOU TWO WERE FORMERLY SECRETLY INVOLVED?  *EATS GRAVEL* HDKFJSKDJFKSJ JAJFKSJDJFEJJ

Yeah I simply couldn’t do it. 

[chelseaknoo]

hey girl i love ur writing 🩷🩷

i'd love to request a modern marshall with a younger rapper like doechii or megan thee stallion?? you can do whatever i just love that dynamic! ok!

love you, keep doing amazing and i hope you had a happy holidays! 🥰

Eminem x young rapper!reader

Note:Thanks! My holiday was semi-decent. My family barely spent any time with me and my sister, which was disappointing. On top of that, the internet was SO slow, I could hardly get any writing done.I also did Secret Santa for the first time. I gave a girl some Victoria’s Secret perfume and lotion, and in return, I got Crayola markers… She said she picked them for me because I like art.First time doing Secret Santa—and definitely the last!

Since you were young, rap has always been your passion. It wasn’t just the rhythm or the flow; it was the raw emotion and power behind the words that drew you in. You grew up listening to Eminem, idolizing his honesty and unfiltered style. While others may have looked up to artists like Nicki Minaj, you felt a deeper connection to Marshall’s music, his story, and the way he could use words to paint a picture so vividly.

At just nine years old, you found yourself on Dance Moms, juggling dance routines with a fire for something more. Despite the pressure of the spotlight and the competitive environment, you always felt like something was missing. It wasn’t until you were older, that the pull of rap grew too strong to ignore, pushing you to make music of your own. The stage lights of Dance Moms had been your introduction to performing, but the microphone and the verses? That’s where you truly belonged.

-

You sat in your small apartment, anxiously tapping your fingers against the edge of the coffee table. The email confirming Shady Records had received your demo had been sitting in your inbox for weeks. You had poured your soul into that song—a raw blend of your personal struggles, triumphs, and a beat that you prayed would catch someone’s attention.

Then it happened.

Your phone buzzed one evening, breaking your thoughts. You glanced at the screen and froze. The caller ID simply read: "Shady Records."

“Hello?” you answered cautiously, trying to keep the nervous tremor out of your voice.

“Hi, this is Paul Rosenberg from Shady Records. Is this [Y/N]?”

Your breath hitched. *Paul Rosenberg? THE Paul Rosenberg?* “Y-yeah, this is me.”

“We’ve been listening to your demo, and we’re impressed. Eminem’s heard it too, and he’d like to meet you in the studio tomorrow. Are you available?”

You barely registered the rest of the conversation after the mention of *Eminem*. The Eminem. Not only had he listened to your song, but he wanted to meet you. You somehow managed to give a coherent answer before the call ended.

The next morning, you stood outside the studio, dressed in your best casual-but-professional outfit. A fitted pair of jeans and a cropped hoodie that hugged your curves, paired with sleek sneakers. You weren’t going to show up looking like you hadn’t put thought into it, but you also wanted to be comfortable.

When you walked inside, the receptionist directed you to Studio A. You hesitated outside the door, your nerves threatening to get the best of you.

"Deep breath," you muttered to yourself, before pushing it open.

The room smelled faintly of coffee and leather. Behind the soundboard stood none other than Marshall Mathers himself, headphones around his neck, scribbling into a notebook. He glanced up at the sound of the door.

“Hey,” he said, his voice smooth but with a touch of curiosity. “You must be [Y/N].”

You nodded, stepping inside and closing the door behind you. “That’s me. Uh… hi.”

He smirked at your nervousness, but his eyes lingered on you for a moment longer than you expected. “I’ve been listening to your track. It’s dope.”

“Really?” you asked, your voice breaking slightly with disbelief.

“Yeah,” he said, leaning against the console. “Your flow’s clean, your wordplay’s sharp, and you’ve got this… edge to you. It’s rare for someone to come in with that kind of energy.”

“Thank you,” you replied, the words feeling inadequate for how much that compliment meant coming from *him*.

Marshall tilted his head slightly, studying you. “You’re young, right? Twenty-four?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’ve got this kind of sound already?” He shook his head with a chuckle. “Shit, I was still finding my footing at your age.”

You smiled nervously, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. His eyes flicked downward for a brief second, lingering on your figure before darting back up to meet your gaze.

“So,” he said, clearing his throat, “what got you into this? Dance Moms, right? Paul told me.”

You laughed, a little embarrassed. “Yeah, that’s me. I was on it for two seasons. But even then, I knew I wanted to rap. Dancing was fun, but music… music was everything.”

“That’s dope,” he said again, leaning forward, his forearms resting on his thighs. “I can tell you’ve been through some shit, though. You write like someone who’s seen some life.”

“Guess that’s one way to put it,” you replied softly.

Marshall nodded, his expression softening. “That’s good. People connect to the real shit.”

As the conversation continued, you noticed how he seemed to pay close attention to everything you said. He asked questions about your process, your influences, your upbringing. But there was also a subtle, lingering tension in the air. His gaze would occasionally flick to your lips or your figure before he’d quickly refocus on the conversation.

“So,” he said finally, leaning back in his chair, “you ready to spit some verses in the booth? I want to see what you’re like in action.”

“Now?” you asked, slightly surprised.

“Hell yeah,” he replied, flashing you a quick grin. “No better time.”

You stepped into the booth, your heart pounding. As the beat from your demo began to play, you took a deep breath and let the words flow. It was a familiar feeling—like stepping into a zone where nothing else mattered. When you finished, you glanced through the glass to see Marshall staring at you, an impressed grin spreading across his face.

“Damn,” he said through the intercom. “That was fire.”

You stepped out of the booth, your cheeks warm from the praise. “Thanks.”

He stood as you approached, towering slightly over you. His expression was serious, but his eyes held a flicker of something else. “You’re good,” he said, his voice low. “Like… really good.”

“Coming from you, that means everything,” you said, your voice almost a whisper.

He smirked, his gaze sweeping over you again. “I’ve got a feeling we’re gonna be seeing a lot of each other, [Y/N].”

And just like that, your journey with Shady Records—and Marshall Mathers—began.

-

Working on your debut album under Shady Records was everything you had dreamed of—and more. The long hours in the studio, the back-and-forth about beats and lyrics, and the energy of being surrounded by some of the best in the game—it was exhausting but electrifying. And then there was Marshall.

From the moment you stepped into the studio, you felt his eyes on you. Not just in the way a mentor watches over a rising artist, but in a way that made your skin heat under his gaze. At first, you brushed it off. You weren’t blind; you knew the photoshoots you had been doing for the album’s visuals weren’t exactly *modest*. But then you started noticing it more. The way his gaze would linger, the way his jaw would tighten slightly before he forced himself to look away, the way he suddenly got a little quieter whenever you walked into the room after a shoot.

Today was no different.

You were in the middle of a shoot for the album cover, the dimly lit set giving off a sultry, moody vibe. Your outfit? A black leather bodysuit that clung to every inch of your body, cut low in the front to show off just enough cleavage without being *too* much. The sides were laced up, showing off hints of skin along your waist and hips, leading down to thigh-high leather boots with a sharp heel. Your hair was styled to perfection, and your makeup was bold—smoky eyes, glossy lips, the works.

Marshall had been in the studio all day, working on mixes, but the second he walked onto the set, you *felt* it. The shift in the air.

You were mid-pose, one knee bent slightly, hands resting on your hips when you caught sight of him standing just outside the lights. He had his hoodie up, arms crossed over his chest, but his eyes—his sharp, blue eyes—were locked on you. And not in a *casual observation* way.

You smirked to yourself. *Busted.*

The photographer called out another pose, and you turned, arching your back just a little, pushing out your hips. A subtle move, but one that had an *effect*.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Marshall shift, clearing his throat and rubbing the back of his neck. You bit back a grin.

After the shoot wrapped, you grabbed a robe and walked over to where he stood, pretending like you hadn’t noticed his lingering stares all day.

“You good, Em?” you asked, sipping from your water bottle.

“Huh?” He blinked, snapping out of whatever trance he had been in.

You raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been real quiet over there.”

He scoffed, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets. “Nah, I’m just… watchin’. The shoot. You’re really leanin’ into the image, huh?”

You tilted your head. “You mean *sexy*? Yeah, I am. You don’t like it?”

He hesitated, his jaw tightening again. “Didn’t say that.”

You smirked. “Uh-huh. You sure? ‘Cause you looked like you were about to combust over there.”

That earned you a *look*. “Man, shut up,” he muttered, shaking his head, but there was the slightest twitch at the corner of his mouth, like he was fighting back a grin.

You stepped a little closer, tilting your head up at him. “I get it, though. You’re used to being surrounded by dudes. You probably haven’t been around this much ass in a while.”

He huffed out a laugh, running a hand over his face. “Yo, stop.”

“Stop what?” you teased, nudging him lightly with your elbow.

Marshall glanced down at you, his eyes flicking briefly to the way your robe was still slightly open, giving just a peek of the bodysuit underneath. You caught the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.

“Man, whatever,” he muttered, shaking his head before turning toward the exit. “Go put some damn clothes on before we gotta fight.”

You laughed, calling after him, “Why? Afraid you’ll get distracted?”

He didn’t turn around, but you swore you saw his shoulders shake with silent laughter as he disappeared down the hall.

-

The day your debut album dropped, everything changed.

The moment it hit streaming platforms, social media exploded. Fans were dissecting every lyric, every beat, and every track. Your name was trending worldwide within hours. Critics raved about your wordplay, your delivery, and the *fire* you brought to every song. And, of course, having Eminem feature on two tracks didn’t hurt. Those songs? Instant classics. The kind of records people played on repeat, trying to memorize every bar.

You knew the album was going to do well, but *this*? This was beyond anything you had ever imagined.

You were sitting in the studio lounge, scrolling through your phone, trying to keep up with the thousands of notifications flooding in. Every time you refreshed Twitter, there were more posts.

“[Y/N] just dropped the best debut album of the decade. This girl is NOT playing!”

“Eminem and [Y/N] on a track together? Yeah, hip-hop won today.”

“She’s got bars, presence, and a whole lot of ASS. No wonder Em was looking at her like that in the behind-the-scenes footage.”

You choked on your drink at that last tweet. *Damn, people really don’t miss anything, huh?*

As if on cue, the studio door opened, and Marshall walked in, his hoodie pulled up, but you could still see the smirk tugging at his lips. “Saw the numbers yet?”

You grinned, holding up your phone. “Oh, you mean how my album is number one everywhere? Yeah, I *might* have noticed.”

He chuckled, plopping down onto the couch across from you. “Told you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know. ‘You got this. You’re dope. People are gonna love it.’” You mimicked his voice with a smirk.

He smirked right back. “Damn, I sound sexy as hell.”

You snorted. “Sure, let’s go with that.”

There was a moment of silence, just the two of you sitting there, letting it all sink in. You had worked your ass off for this, and now it was happening.

Marshall leaned back, watching you with an unreadable expression. “You proud of yourself?”

You met his gaze, suddenly serious. “Yeah… yeah, I am.”

He nodded slowly, a small smile forming. “Good. You should be.”

A beat passed before he stretched his arms over his head and smirked. “Just don’t let this go to your head. I don’t need you startin’ to act all Hollywood on me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Please. I could have a billion streams, and I’d still talk shit to you.”

His grin widened. “That’s what I like to hear.”

-

### **A Celebration to Remember**

Marshall wasn’t usually the type to throw parties—not really. He never cared for industry events or massive gatherings, but tonight was different.

Tonight was about *you*.

Your debut album was a massive success, and he knew how hard you had worked on it. So, despite his usual reservations, he decided to celebrate properly—with an exclusive party at one of his favorite low-key venues. Nothing crazy, just the Shady Records team, a few producers, and a couple of close friends. It was intimate, comfortable, and filled with the people who had been there for every late-night session, every rewrite, and every breakthrough moment.

You walked in wearing a fitted, short red dress that hugged every curve just right, paired with sleek heels that added to your height. Your makeup was flawless, your hair cascading down your shoulders effortlessly. You weren’t about to downplay your success—you had worked for this, and you were going to *look* the part.

The second you stepped into the venue, you felt eyes on you. More specifically, *his* eyes.

Marshall was already there, standing near the bar with a drink in hand, deep in conversation with Paul and a couple of producers. But the second he saw you, his words slowed, and his blue eyes dragged over your figure, taking in every detail before snapping back to your face.

You smirked. *Busted—again.*

“Damn,” Royce muttered from beside him, nudging Marshall with a grin. “She cleanin’ up nice, huh?”

Marshall rolled his eyes but didn’t deny it. He just took a sip of his drink and muttered, “She always looks like that.”

Royce laughed. “Man, shut up.”

The party itself was smooth. Drinks were poured, music blasted through the speakers, and everyone was in high spirits. You spent the night bouncing between conversations, laughing with the crew, and soaking in every moment. Marshall? He was his usual self—watching from the sidelines, engaging when needed, but mostly keeping a low profile.

But that didn’t stop the lingering looks.

Every time you caught him staring, he’d look away a second too late. Every time you passed by him, you swore his eyes dipped to your curves before snapping back up. It was subtle, but it was *there*.

And you weren’t going to let it slide.

-

Toward the end of the night, the crowd thinned out. Most people had already left, leaving only a few stragglers and, of course, *him*.

You found him sitting on one of the leather couches in the lounge area, nursing a drink, scrolling through his phone. You took the opportunity and slid into the seat next to him, close enough that your knees brushed.

“Tired already, old man?” you teased.

Marshall huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “First of all, fuck you. Second, I ain’t tired. Just chillin’.”

You smirked, tilting your head. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

His eyes flicked to you, and for a moment, he just *looked* at you. Like he was trying to figure something out. You leaned in slightly, resting your arm on the back of the couch.

“You know,” you mused, “I’ve been noticing something lately.”

He raised a brow. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

You licked your lips before saying, “You stare at me a lot.”

Marshall froze for a split second. It was brief—so brief that if you weren’t paying attention, you would’ve missed it. But you *were* paying attention.

He scoffed, playing it off. “Man, you full of yourself.”

You grinned. “Am I?”

“Yes.” He took a slow sip of his drink, but you could see the way he shifted slightly in his seat.

You leaned in a little more, your voice dropping just enough to make it *dangerous*. “So, you’re saying you *haven’t* been looking at me?”

Marshall exhaled through his nose, setting his drink down. “I’m sayin’—” He paused, then shook his head. “Look, don’t start.”

You bit your lip to hide your smile. “Start what?”

He gave you a *look*. “You know what.”

You laughed softly, letting a moment of silence stretch between you before saying, “You’re kinda fun to mess with.”

Marshall sighed, shaking his head with a smirk. “Yeah, I *bet* I am.”

Another pause. His eyes flicked to your legs, just for a second, before he looked back up.

You tilted your head, deciding to push just a little more. “You scared or something?”

He chuckled, rubbing his jaw. “Ain’t *nobody* scared.”

“Then why are you acting all cautious?”

Marshall sighed, leaning back. “Because.”

“Because *what*?”

He exhaled, looking at you for a long moment before finally admitting, “Because there’s an age gap, and I ain’t tryna be that dude.”

You raised a brow. “*That* dude?”

“You know what I mean.”

You smirked, letting your fingers trail along the rim of your glass. “So, it’s not that you *don’t* want to…”

He didn’t say anything.

And that silence? That *pause*? That was an answer in itself.

You leaned in just a little more, lowering your voice. “Marshall.”

He swallowed, his eyes flicking to your lips before forcing himself to look back into your eyes.

“Hmm?”

You smiled. “Relax. I’m not gonna jump on you.”

That made him chuckle. “Good. ‘Cause I’d like to make it outta this party alive.”

You grinned. “Fair enough.”

For now, you let the conversation settle, leaning back into the couch. But the tension? The chemistry? That wasn’t going anywhere.

And you both knew it.

-

The night had been long, and after the party, everyone had dispersed—leaving just you and Marshall in the quiet of your hotel suite. The music, the chatter, the laughter were all behind you now, and the silence between you two felt strangely intimate.

You hadn’t expected things to turn this way. Marshall had always been careful—keeping his distance, always professional. But now, in the privacy of this room, you could feel the weight of the tension between you.

The soft glow of the city lights filtered through the window, casting a faint light across the room. Marshall had changed into a plain black tee and sweatpants, looking more relaxed than he had all night. You, on the other hand, had opted for something more comfortable too: a silk robe over your slip dress. You knew it wasn’t much, but it felt right for the moment.

You sat on the edge of the bed, looking out at the skyline. Your thoughts raced—too many questions, too many unspoken things hanging in the air. Marshall was leaning against the dresser, sipping from his drink, his eyes occasionally flicking over to you when he thought you weren’t looking.

“Didn’t think you’d still be here,” you said, breaking the silence.

He chuckled, leaning back slightly, his gaze never leaving you. “Well, I’m not just gonna leave you alone after a night like that, am I?”

You shrugged, turning your gaze toward him. “I guess not.”

The air between you thickened, and even though the conversation was casual, you both knew there was more beneath the surface.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of silence, Marshall took a step toward you. “So… you good?”

You nodded, but there was a slight tremor in your voice when you spoke. “Yeah. I’m good.”

He took another step, his eyes not leaving yours, his lips curling into that familiar, yet soft, smile. “You sure about that?”

You hesitated, your pulse quickening as his proximity increased. Something about the way he was looking at you made your heart race, and you could tell that he felt it too.

Before you could respond, Marshall reached for his drink, his hand brushing against yours. His touch was brief, but it left a spark. “You know, I’m not usually the type to be all... forward. But with you?” He paused, taking another sip, his eyes scanning your face. “I’m startin’ to wonder if I’ve been too careful.”

You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry. The way he said it made it clear that he wasn’t talking about being cautious professionally. It was more personal than that.

“You think so?” you asked softly, leaning back on your hands.

Marshall’s gaze never wavered. “Yeah. I mean, I’m just sayin’, you’ve been on my mind all night, and it’s hard not to notice the way you—” He stopped mid-sentence, as if weighing the consequences of saying too much.

You smiled to yourself, leaning in slightly. “What, Marshall?”

He set his drink down on the bedside table, his fingers brushing the edge of your robe, his expression suddenly serious. “You know I don’t want to mess this up. But every time I look at you…”

You felt your breath catch in your throat as his words trailed off, his hand now resting lightly on your knee. The tension between you two was palpable, both of you clearly holding back, but neither of you willing to walk away.

“I get it,” you whispered, your voice low and soft, “but I’m not going anywhere.”

Marshall’s eyes softened, his hand moving from your knee to your thigh, slowly, almost as if testing the waters. He looked at you for a moment longer, as if trying to read you, before finally taking the plunge.

His lips brushed against yours, hesitant at first, almost as if he was waiting for you to pull away. But when you didn’t, he deepened the kiss, pulling you closer until there was no space between you two.

You responded instantly, your hands moving to his chest, feeling the strong muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt. Every inch of his body against yours sent a wave of warmth through you, and before you knew it, your hands were tangled in his hair, tugging him closer.

Marshall groaned softly, his hands now firmly on your hips, guiding you backward onto the bed as he hovered over you. The air between you two crackled with something undeniable.

“I’ve wanted this for a while,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. “But I didn’t want to make things weird.”

You looked up at him, your chest rising and falling with every breath. “You didn’t, Marshall. You didn’t.”

And that was all the reassurance he needed.

As the night stretched on, the only sounds in the room were the soft whispers and the quiet sighs as you and Marshall gave into the moment. The world outside ceased to exist as everything you both had been holding back fell away.

The room felt like it was closing in, the atmosphere thick with the weight of everything unspoken between you and Marshall. His hand rested on your waist, firm but gentle, as he hovered over you, lips moving with purpose but not urgency. There was a sense of exploration, of unraveling something long held back. He paused, just inches from your face, as if waiting for a signal—an indication that this was what you both wanted.

“Are you sure about this?” Marshall’s voice was low, almost a growl, the words barely a whisper in the quiet room.

You could feel the raw vulnerability in his tone, like a man who’d spent so long protecting himself from getting hurt. But this—*you*—this felt different. You could see it in his eyes. He wasn’t just looking at you anymore; he was *seeing* you.

“I’m sure,” you whispered back, lifting your hand to gently stroke his jaw. His stubble scratched your palm lightly, the sensation sending a thrill through you.

Marshall let out a breath, and in one swift motion, his lips were on yours again, harder this time, more desperate as if he couldn’t hold back any longer. He moved, shifting his weight and pressing closer, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss, matching his urgency.

His hands explored your body, hesitant at first, but as your touch urged him on, his fingers moved with more confidence. He traced the outline of your dress, his thumbs slipping under the fabric, sending shivers down your spine. The way he touched you felt different—like he was both careful and eager, wanting to savor each moment.

You gasped when his lips moved down your neck, his breath warm against your skin. “Damn, you don’t know how long I’ve been thinking about this,” he murmured against your skin, his hands inching higher, brushing the straps of your dress off your shoulders.

You shivered at the way he spoke, feeling every word as if they were meant for you. “Then stop thinking,” you said, your voice breathless. “And start acting.”

Marshall chuckled softly, a dark edge to his amusement. “You sure you can handle me?”

You met his eyes, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “I’ve been handling you all night.”

With a sharp intake of breath, Marshall moved in, kissing you with a renewed intensity. You could feel the pulse of desire in every movement, every soft caress. His hand slid down your body, reaching for the hem of your dress and pulling it up slowly. The fabric felt almost like a barrier between you two, and you couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of urgency.

You tangled your hands in his shirt, pulling it over his head, feeling the hard lines of his muscles under your fingertips. Marshall’s lips left yours for a moment, just long enough to catch his breath. He looked down at you, eyes flicking between your eyes and your lips, as if debating something internally.

"Is this… too much?" he asked, his voice rough.

You reached up, cupping his face with your hands, forcing him to look at you. “No. It’s not too much. It’s exactly what I want.”

There was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced with something else—something deeper, more raw. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” he warned softly, his lips brushing against your ear.

You smiled, a playful glint in your eyes. “I think I do.”

Marshall didn’t waste any more time. His lips found yours again, more demanding now, and you responded in kind, meeting his intensity. The world outside the hotel room ceased to exist as the two of you lost yourselves in the moment.

His hands roamed freely now, lifting your body against his, and you could feel the heat radiating between you both. He moved with purpose, a mixture of tenderness and passion in every touch. The barrier between you—your clothes—vanished with a few swift movements, and soon, it was just the two of you, skin against skin.

As the night stretched on, time seemed to lose its meaning. Everything faded into the background except for the feeling of Marshall’s body against yours, the warmth of his breath, the soft whispers between kisses. Each touch was a promise, each kiss a question, and neither of you seemed ready to stop finding the answers.

This wasn’t just about the music, about the fame, about everything else that had brought you here. This was something deeper, something more real than either of you had expected.

But for now, all that mattered was the moment. And in this moment, you were exactly where you wanted to be.

-

The fluorescent lights of the recording studio cast a warm glow on everything, but it felt different now that you and Marshall were officially together. There was a new energy in the air, something between you two that hadn’t been there before. The work was still the same—people moving around, adjusting equipment, going over tracks—but it was harder to focus when Marshall was right next to you, his presence magnetic in a way you hadn’t expected.

You were sitting on the couch in the corner of the studio, legs crossed, working on some lyrics for the next track. Marshall was sitting across from you, his fingers absentmindedly tapping on the surface of a nearby desk, eyes glued to his phone. Despite the steady pace of the workday, the space between you two felt full of unspoken things—things that went beyond the music.

"How’s the writing going?" he asked, glancing over at you from behind his phone, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

You looked up from your notebook, feeling a flush on your cheeks from the way his eyes lingered on you. "It’s good. Just working through some ideas," you replied, trying to keep your focus. But you could feel his gaze on you, the weight of it, and it made your heart race.

"You sure?" He tilted his head, as if he could sense the distraction. "You seem a little... off."

You smiled, biting your lip. “Maybe I’m just distracted by you.”

Marshall’s eyes darkened for a split second, a spark of amusement flashing across his face. “Oh, really? Me?”

“Yeah,” you said, leaning back into the couch, trying to act casual even though every fiber of your being was aware of the way he was looking at you. “You’re kind of hard to ignore these days.”

His smirk grew, and he stood up, moving toward you with that same cocky yet confident stride that always made your stomach flutter. "I’m hard to ignore, huh?" His voice was low, almost teasing as he stood in front of you, looking down at you with that familiar intensity.

You looked up at him, heart thumping in your chest. “You’re *definitely* hard to ignore.”

Marshall’s lips curled into a smile, but this time, there was something different about it—a softness that hadn’t been there before. He bent down slightly, just enough to be closer to you, his face hovering inches from yours. “You know what else is hard to ignore?” he whispered.

Your breath caught in your throat as his lips brushed against your ear. “What’s that?” you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he let his lips hover by your ear for just a second longer before pulling back and looking you straight in the eyes. “This.”

He leaned down again, this time kissing you gently, almost like he was testing the waters. It wasn’t hurried or aggressive—it was slow, deliberate, as if he wanted to savor the moment. When you kissed him back, your hands instinctively reached for his shirt, tugging him closer, the electricity between you two undeniable.

You pulled away slightly, trying to regain some composure. “We’re at the studio, Marshall,” you murmured, your voice a little breathless.

He chuckled, a deep, throaty sound. “Yeah, I know. But who says we can’t have a little fun in between sessions?”

You raised an eyebrow at him, a playful grin creeping onto your face. “Isn’t that a little unprofessional?”

Marshall gave you that signature smirk of his, leaning back just enough to look down at you. “Maybe. But I’m not exactly known for being the most professional guy, am I?”

You laughed softly, knowing that was true. His rebellious streak was one of the things that made him... *him*. And somehow, it made you even more drawn to him.

Just then, someone from the team walked by the room, momentarily breaking the tension. Marshall straightened up, giving you a wink before walking over to the mixing board to check in with the sound engineer.

You watched him, still trying to shake the warmth his kiss had left on your lips. You were officially dating Marshall, and yet, the chemistry between you two was so palpable it was hard to believe it wasn’t some kind of dream.

As Marshall worked on a few adjustments to the track, you stayed on the couch, jotting down some more lyrics. Every now and then, you’d catch him glancing over at you, a look of something deeper than admiration on his face.

You could feel it now, the shift from business partners to something far more personal. And despite all the layers of fame, the industry, and the people in your lives, it felt like this—right here—was the most real thing either of you had.

"Ready to lay down your verse?" Marshall asked, his voice suddenly breaking your train of thought as he returned to you, his hand reaching out for your notebook.

You nodded, standing up and moving toward the booth. As you stepped into the soundproof room, Marshall followed, his presence close behind you.

“Let’s make some magic, huh?”

You grinned at him, feeling more confident than ever. “Let’s do it.”

And as the beat dropped and you stepped up to the mic, you knew that this was just the beginning—both for your music and for your relationship with Marshall.

[cherry-coffees]

The Hey mister Todd song with Caitlyn kiramman x fem!reader. Where the reader tries to pull Caitlyn to bed😻🙏

YES. THAT'S A BIG YES FROM ME.

Because IMAGINEEE Caitlyn's been working super late the past few nights. You know her job is stressful, know that she has to sign off on so many important decisions and has so much paperwork in order to keep Piltover running smoothly. But it's late and you're tired — tired of falling asleep without being wrapped in your girlfriend's arms.

So you stand in the doorway of her office, leaning against the frame in the silken nightgown she bought you last week, until Caitlyn finally looks up from the papers on her desk. "Darling?" she questions, setting her pen down. "Everything okay?"

"Come to bed," you give her your best pleading eyes. Round and wide, Caitlyn almost gives in. Almost.

"I'll be there in a few minutes," she pinches the bridge of her nose, sighing. "You know I'd rather be with you instead of working. But if I don't finish these papers-"

"Please," you bite the inside of your cheek, no longer able to disguise your pout. "I need you, Cait. Just come for a few minutes...please?"

Ah, she really can't resist you.

You see her professional facade crumble as her eyes go soft, and you know you've worn her down. Caitlyn stands from her chair, crossing over to you in a few strides and laying a hand on your back. "Alright, just until you fall asleep, then."

When you're comfortably settled in Caitlyn's bed a few minutes later, your head on her shoulder as you scroll through your phone. She nudges you lightly when she spots you opening your social media. "Darling, you should sleep. It's not good for you to scroll this late."

You ignore her, sitting up to meet her eyes. "Please, Cait? If you let me show you one video, I'll let you go back to work. Promise."

Caitlyn tilts her head, navy hair falling over her shoulders before she sighs again in compliance. "Okay. You've convinced me."

"Good," you smile, tapping your phone a few times until you find the video you want. It's a trend you've seen recently, the video showing a girl with a cat in her arms, the girl kissing the cat in between every word of the audio.

Caitlyn smiles at the video. "That's cute."

"It is," your smile widens almost mischievously, turning back to her. "And now..."

Caitlyn's eyes widen in surprise as the video's audio plays again, only this time, you cup her face in your palms.

"Ooh, Mr. Todd," kiss on her left cheek.

"I'm so happy," kiss on her right cheek.

"I could-" kiss on her forehead.

"-eat you up I really could! You know what I'd like to do, Mr. Todd?" kiss on her nose.

"What I dream?" You place a final kiss on her lips, pulling back to smile sweetly at her as the audio plays out.

Caitlyn, meanwhile, blinks dazedly up at you from where she's leaning against the bed's headboard. "Oh," she murmurs, voice husky. "That's- That's what you wanted to-"

"Mhm" you gently knock your nose against hers. "You're just too cute. I had to give you all the kisses."

"I'm not cute," she mumbles, though her icy eyes are still hazy, like she can't think straight. And, Caitlyn supposes, she really can't.

"You're the cutest" you decide, kissing her lips once more. "But that's what I wanted. You can go back now if you need, love."

Caitlyn sits up fully, but it's only to shrug off her jacket and throw it across the room without a second glance. "You're too sweet to me, darling," she whispers as she slides back down so her head rests against the pillows. Her arms wrap around you snugly. "I can't let you sleep alone after that."

"Mh," you hum, a pleased smile gracing your features as you tuck your head into her neck. Your legs tangle together under the sheets, and you swear that you've never been happier than when you're in your girlfriend's embrace. "If you insist."

|------» ~~~ «------|

A/N: ty for the request lovely, i hope i did you justice <3

a reminder that my requests and asks are open! so send me an ideas you'd like to see OR just drop in to say hi and give thoughts on my fics <3

[waynes-multiverse]

Gah, I love this so much!!! And Colter definitely gives fuckboi vibes lol. But his characters kind of always do 😂🤷‍♀️

You slipped out an airplane shot you had snuck into your jacket pocket that you swiped from the drink cart as it passed by during your aisle seat fun

I’m absolutely in love with this reader! I don’t know how Russell couldn’t be. They’re a total match 🥰

“No, really. We ran into a situation and we tried to free him when these cops saw us and—”

God, I’d kill to know the full donkey story. It gave “Jason” from Good Place vibes 😂

I loved the banter between all three of them! The Shaws felt so perfectly in character with their answers and mannerisms. And holy, what a lucky girl getting the honor to see both those ridiculously hot men naked. I mean, hello?! 🫠

And why did it have to be this guy who was watching you like the Big Bad Wolf, looking like he would gobble you up the second you’d let him?

Dead 🤣🤣

Also, the “hotter things in my mouth” line killed me 😂 Have I mentioned I love her? Because I do lol

On your way, you spied a young family nearby. The mother was feeding a baby, smiling as she watched her husband spin his kindergarten-age daughter in circles by the arms, making her giggle. You felt an all-too familiar lump forming in your throat but you forced it back down

So curious what that is about! And that little engagement bomb drop… Truly wondering what happened there 👀

“Alright, you already gave me the sit rep on you and the lawyer. Now I need one for you and her.” He gestured in the direction you had disappeared in with his thumb. “And don’t hold back because she is…” He gave his brother the perfection sign.

I can’t with him 😂😂 Also, how much time do you have, Russ? Colter has a lot of female contacts in his phone lol

And sweet of Colter wanting to protect her, but she seems like a smart woman who can make her own choices 😉

You decided to nip this shit right in the bud. “Okay, Shaw, you listen to me and you listen good. It doesn’t matter if it’s hitting too close as you put it, or not. I do my job and nothing gets in the way of that. Just because your asshat of a brother has apparently decided that I’m some fragile flower of a woman that needs protecting from my own feelings doesn’t mean shit. I’m damn good at what I do and I’m a fucking professional. You hear me?”

This exactly!!! Loved this entire paragraph 😅🫶

When he had answered you with “Yes, ma’am” a part of him had definitely been saluting you, no doubt about it.

I kind of had a feeling about this. You and I share the same headcanon, girl 😂🩵

That ending was amazing!!! “No limits” broke me! That was genius! All the kudos to you for this one, friend! It was hilarious, intriguing, so hot 😍👏👏👏

Off Limits

Summary: When Reenie sends you to assist Colter with whatever he needs after getting arrested for breaking into a morgue in Virginia, you meet his older brother Russell for the first time. There's some flirting and definitely a mutual attraction there before you Colter sends you off. Little do you know at the time that Colter has warned Russell that you're off limits and that Russell has no intention of listening to said warning.

Pairing: Russell Shaw x Female!Reader; Russell Shaw x Female!PI!Reader

A/N: So I've had this idea in my head since I first saw the episode (and that whole food truck scene) and finally sat down to start writing it May 19th, the day we were all hoping Russell would return for 1x13 (no spoilers). I did change up the ending of 1x12 a little here. By the way, I love Colter and I'm only a few episodes into the season but he kind of gives a little fuckboi vibe to me (meant affectionately of course) so I decided to kind of play on that a little here. Not that Russell also doesn't seem to have that vibe here a little bit. (again, meant as affectionate) 😉 I may write a follow up to this to fill in/shade in more areas mentioned in here.

Anyways, this was a lot of fun to write and try to practice ratcheting up the UST a little between two characters. I'm not sure if I succeeded but it was still fun to try. 🥵

All unbeta'd.

Song while writing: Coming For You - Nuela Charles (you can probably guess what scene I was envisioning/writing with this one 🤷‍♀️)

Warnings: sexual tension; flirting; a little smut; language

Word Count: 9357

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx

You can also read on AO3

You pulled up to the area where two food trucks sat and tables were scattered throughout the center of it all. You quickly recognized Colter sitting there, eating, talking to someone sitting across from him. You softly groaned at the incessant pounding in your head, tenderly rubbing your forehead. Why had Reenie charged you with this? True, you owed her a favor (or four) but still, getting on a plane with only thirty minutes notice, no time to pack an overnight bag, and her insistence that you go and assist Colter with whatever he needed was a bit much. Even for her. 

But here you were, dressed in yesterday’s clothes, your hair up in a messy ponytail after you quickly combed your fingers through it, and feeling scuzzy after a long night spent on planes. That’s right. Planes as in plural. Reenie hadn’t even sprung for a non-connecting flight, though she’d tried to chalk it up to none of those being available when she’d booked the trip for you ASAFP. You’d been stuck in coach the entire time, which was fine (you were more than used to it) but you’d had the middle seat and then the aisle seat — both seating arrangements were pure hell. Needless to say, you may have indulged at the airport bar in between flights and ordered drinks while on both, putting it on your business card that you immediately wrote off as travel expenses in your head. Especially when one of the guys you were sitting next to (who thought he was the next young Robert DeNiro apparently) was intent on making conversation, filling you in on his romantic and sexual history (relayed through a ton of bad implied jokes of course), as if he thought that would be a selling point for you to immediately want to induct him into the mile high club (there was no way he was a member despite his many stories hinting to the contrary). No thank you. Not ever.

Thankfully, you were able to pick up some essentials when you finally arrived at your destination and used the airport bathrooms for a little clean up before grabbing a rental car. You still felt gross and in need of a shower, but you’d manage until you did what you came here to do and then your time would be your own again. You were sure you’d get a shower and a change of clothes somewhere in between there. 

So while the alcohol helped to ease the tension your sudden trip created, you were badly hungover. Yep, sadly you were at that age where if you even looked at a drink, you’d get a headache the next day. So while you had maintained a nice buzz, you were now paying for it. You took a deep breath, slipped on your sunglasses, and got out of the car. 

Colter saw you coming, surprise fleeting across his expression, before turning his full attention on you when you sat down next to him. “Oof. Rough night?”

Your answer was to flip him the bird which made him chuckle. You then yanked out the folder of files Reenie had thrown into a travel case for you and slapped it all down next to him. “There. Directly from Reenie. With my compliments. Not that I don’t have my own cases to work,” you finished in a mumble. You snatched his coffee, ignoring his frown, and took a deep gulp. You made an immediate face. “Ugh. How do you still drink this shit?”

“It’s coffee,” he informed you as he began peeking at the files.

“I know. How do you not put anything in it? Do you like the taste of bitter ass first thing in the morning? Wait, don’t answer that.” You slipped out an airplane shot you had snuck into your jacket pocket that you swiped from the drink cart as it passed by during your aisle seat fun, beyond desperate to ignore the chatty Cathy next to you (her name had literally been Cathy as you’d found out against your will). You immediately lifted the lid and dumped in the contents, picking up a fry from Colter’s plate and using that to stir things around quickly before tossing it in the grass behind you. You ignored the “hey!” sounding not too far from where the fry had most likely landed and took a generous sip of the warm liquid, nearly heaving a sigh of satisfaction as it settled into your stomach. Not exactly the hair of the dog but it would do for now.

Colter was shaking his head, watching you, and you immaturely stuck your tongue out at him, about to tell him to blow you when you heard a chuckle across the table. You turned to see the guy Colter had been talking to grinning over at you, amusement clear as day on his face. You lowered your glasses slightly and took in his features, noting his obvious attractiveness, and you would be loathe to admit that you wouldn’t mind meeting him in an airplane bathroom had he been the one sitting next to you on that ghastly flight. Almost as if he knew what you were thinking, his smile grew and those green eyes lit up in a way that was all too familiar to you, and also had you wondering if there were any public bathrooms around here that you could slip away to for a bit. After the long night you’d had, an orgasm or two might just be what the doctor ordered. 

You pushed your glasses back into position and gave him a smile right back. “And who’s this?”

Before Colter could answer, the man stuck out a hand towards you. “Russell Shaw, Colter’s older brother.”

Your smile dropped as your hopes were immediately dashed. Fuck. Not only was he hot in a very rugged type of way (right up your alley actually not that you’d ever admit that out loud) but he seemed like he would’ve been game for what you were up for, too. Dammit. You forced yourself to shake his hand and not be rude, all the while trying your best not to think about what those hands could do or how that rough, warm skin would feel like against yours. “Y/N Y/L/N.”

The light in his eyes burned brighter. “Y/N. That is a beautiful name.” 

You couldn’t contain the eye roll at the obviously bad pickup line. Perhaps it was best that he was Colter’s brother. Not that you would’ve been doing much talking if he wasn’t, so his flirting skills wouldn’t have mattered. “So I’ve heard.” You cut that off at the knees. “Russell Shaw,” you drew out his name, remembering something Reenie had mentioned before you went through airport security. You yanked out another folder from your case, slapping it down in front of him. “Reenie insisted that I give you this and told me to tell you that you owe her quite a bit for taking care of those fines from Fish & Wildlife and something about a donkey in Tuscaloosa?” You glanced up at him in question. 

He chuckled, sounding nervous, and gave you a reassuring smile. “That’s not— The donkey thing was a misunderstanding.”

Right. “Oh, I’m sure.”

“No, really. We ran into a situation and we tried to free him when these cops saw us and—”

You held up a hand. “I really don’t need the details. It’s fine. But Reenie did say you should Venmo her.”

He pressed his lips together and dropped his gaze to the papers, nodding. “Sure. I’ll get right on that.” You studied him as he studied the paperwork and despite the suspicious donkey thing and your decision to already back off, you kind of wished he would get right on you. 

You heard a throat clearing next to you and turned to find Colter glancing between you, that frown on his face again. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes once more. Whatever, Colter had no business looking like that. He’d had his chance and he’d fucked it up, royally. Instead of giving that pretend jealousy shit the time of day, you snatched a few more fries off of his plate and glanced back and forth between the two men as you chewed. “You two look nothing alike, by the way.”

“He should be so lucky,” Russell teased his brother before turning that smile back on you. You almost wished you hadn’t indulged in an all night booze fest and had a fresh change of clothes. You must look like a wreck right now, more than what you’d seen in the rearview mirror earlier, and you probably smelled like one, too. Desperately trying to tamp down the images popping into your brain of this man underneath you and those hands of his gripping onto your hips, you stole more fries from the plate near you.

“Seriously, Y/N, why don’t you just go get your own food? The trucks are right there.” Colter hated it when you did this which is exactly why you did it. 

You arched a brow over at him as you chewed. “You buying?” When he didn’t answer fast enough, you snatched even more fries from him. “Didn’t think so.”

“I am,” Russell interjected, smirking over at you. “Just tell me what you’d like and I’d be more than happy to get it for you.”

His voice deepened on that last part and it made parts of you clench. You bet he would. Why the fuck did Colter have to have a brother? And why did it have to be this guy who was watching you like the Big Bad Wolf, looking like he would gobble you up the second you’d let him? Who had a roguish grin to match? Besides, based on what Reenie had said during your quick interlude at the airport, Colter’s brother had been hitting on her big time. She had warned you to tread carefully due to his connection to this case Colter was looking into. That his brother might try to charm his way into peeking at the files for his brother that you were carrying among other things, but this information was meant to go strictly into Colter’s hands. You were almost insulted at her implying that you weren’t a damn professional and that you were so easily led by your libido (it had been almost six months which was a damn drought for you). It was almost as if she knew you too well (she did).

Even though you didn’t plan on going there, at all, you couldn’t resist, lifting your sunglasses to your head, not caring how bloodshot or tired your eyes looked. “Anything I’d like?”

He leaned forward slightly. “Whatever you want,” he promised, the look in his gaze making the same vow but for something completely different.

You leaned forward, too. “Well, in that case…” When you noticed him moving an inch more towards you, hanging onto what you would say next, you grabbed his box of fries out from underneath him. You smirked triumphantly and plucked a fry in between your fingers, popping it into your mouth. 

Instead of getting annoyed like Colter had, he quietly laughed and seemed plenty entertained as he watched you pick up another fry that had red sauce partially covering it. “I should warn you. I’m a sriracha on fries kind of guy.”

You glanced at the fry and then back at him, shrugging. “Oh, I’ve had way hotter things in my mouth than this, trust me.” You never broke eye contact as you slipped the fry past your lips, not reacting in the slightest when the spicy taste came into contact with your tongue. Russell’s eyes darkened and you had the distinct feeling that if you weren’t in public right now and Colter wasn’t here, you’d be at serious risk of him testing that theory.

“Okay,” Colter interrupted. “Let’s focus on the case, please.” He almost sounded irritated which made you glance over to see him glaring in both yours and Russell’s direction. You laughed to yourself and continued eating your stolen fries and sipping your modified version of an Irish coffee. As much as Colter’s annoyance amused you, you were also grateful that he was reminding you why you were there. You needed to get your horny ass in check.

“So this is everything Reenie could find on them?” He asked.

You shrugged. Reenie hadn’t exactly given you all the particulars and you assumed that was purposeful on her part for whatever the reason. Not that it bothered you in the slightest; you had your own shit to worry about. Besides, she also implied Colter would fill you in on everything once you caught up with him.

He looked displeased and then shook his head at you. “Why did she even bother sending you?”

You got angry then. How dare he? It’s not like you wanted to be sent on this fun little errand at the whims of the lawyer who was hellbent on helping him at every turn. “Hey. I traveled on two annoying ass flights to get here, dealing with chatty old ladies and misogynistic perverts, to hand deliver you this shit and to assist wherever I can. Without any warning or time to even pack a toothbrush, I might add. All while I have my own caseload to work on, thank you very much. To help you out and fast. So how about a goddamn thank you instead of whatever this is?” You gestured towards him. He went to reply, but you cut him off. “And while you’re turning that ungrateful frown upside down, why don’t you tell me what exactly it is you’re working on?”

Russell spoke up then, prompting you to look over at him. “A buddy of mine went missing and we’re trying to track him down. His wife called me and asked me to look into it. Colter’s helping.”

That quelled your irritation slightly and you pressed your lips together. You could only imagine how sick with worry this guy’s wife must be; you knew that feeling all too well. “I’m sorry to hear it,” you offered, your tone as genuine and sympathetic as you could make it. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Colter watching you, his frown gone, now replaced by the same sympathy you were feeling. You hated it so you decided to ignore it. “How long ago did he go missing?”

“A few days back. He was returning home after a grocery store run but he disappeared from a gas station while filling up.”

Your brows furrowed. “Taken?”

Russell shook his head. “No. He ran off. It looked like someone may have been after him.” 

Colter slid over the file to you, nodding when you glanced at him questioningly. “Doug Thompson. Former military. Now working for these guys as a private contractor.” Well, now Reenie’s explicit instructions made more sense. 

You opened the file and skimmed the papers as quickly as you could. “Wow,” you murmured. “So these guys are no joke.”

“No, they’re not.” You glanced up to find Russell watching you, all traces of any flirtation and humor gone. “But I don’t think they have anything to do with it. I would’ve heard something if they did.”

Your brows arched in surprise, hearing what he wasn’t exactly saying. “You’re working with them, too?”

He gave you a nod. “I am. We do mostly private security, that kind of thing.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the disbelief in Colter’s expression. He wasn’t buying it either. “Which is code for black ops, am I right?”

Russell tensed. Bingo.

“Which means that whether or not they’re responsible, they’re most likely connected to what’s happening. If someone was really after your friend.”

His jaw tightened. “What makes you say that? It could be anyone.”

You shot him a look and shut the file. “Because I was engaged to someone who did this kind of thing and I know how these things work.”

You watched as his eyes widened slightly and he leaned forward, curious. “Was?”

Ignoring that question and no longer as curious about him, you tossed the file back over to Colter. “Bottom line is this firm is where you should be looking first. Carefully, though. We both know how they like to keep their secrets.” You gave him a thin-lipped smile and sipped your coffee, slipping your sunglasses back on and getting up to head over to the food truck behind him. On your way, you spied a young family nearby. The mother was feeding a baby, smiling as she watched her husband spin his kindergarten-age daughter in circles by the arms, making her giggle. You felt an all-too familiar lump forming in your throat but you forced it back down and continued your trek, coming to a stop at the back of a short line, intending on getting your own food. You weren’t really hungry but you needed a few minutes to regain your bearings before you could switch back into professional mode and be of any help to the brothers.

By the time you returned, Colter sent you a sympathetic glance which you promptly ignored and dug into the case as well as your meal. 

Colter sighed when your car pulled away. He had insisted you go check into a room and clean up while he and Russell made some calls, did some digging, and he would call you if something turned up. You had been only too happy to agree.

Russell turned back to him, after watching you drive off. “Oh, I like her.”

“Of course you do,” Colter muttered.

“Alright, you already gave me the sit rep on you and the lawyer. Now I need one for you and her.” He gestured in the direction you had disappeared in with his thumb. “And don’t hold back because she is…” He gave his brother the perfection sign.

Colter shook his head and wiped his hands with a napkin. “There really isn’t anything to report there, either. We had a…weekend about a year back when I was working a case in her town. Then I got a new case in the next state over and we went our separate ways. Nothing ever came of it.”

Russell continued chewing his fries that you had returned before you left, thinking it over. “There seems to be quite a bit of hostility between you two for just a casual weekend.”

Colter folded his arms on the table. “We didn’t end on the best terms.”

His brother chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. “Bit of an understatement.” He then wiped his hands clean, too. “So, she’s fair game then, I take it?”

Colter shot him a glare. “No, she’s not. She’s off limits, too.”

“Come on, bro. You already said the lawyer was off limits.” He gave Colter a look. “Are you telling me you’ve got a thing for both of them? Because if you do, I wouldn’t blame you. They’re both—”

“It’s not like that,” Colter interrupted. “With Y/N, it’s… She’s been through a lot.”

Russell nodded and glanced back down at his food. “Yeah, I caught that.”

“The last thing she needs right now is a reminder of any of it.” Russell glanced up to catch Colter eyeing him sharply.

Russell got the message. He hadn’t addressed it at the time but he hadn’t missed it when you claimed to know how companies like Horizon worked or that you had been engaged to someone who worked for one of them. There was obviously a story there. And that combined with your change in demeanor when he mentioned Doug’s disappearance, you referring to your engagement in the past tense, and Colter’s protectiveness of you — Russell had a pretty good idea of what probably happened. It didn’t mean he didn’t like you, though. If he wasn’t mistaken, he had gotten the impression that you had liked him, too. But in the same vein, until he knew what he was working with, he didn’t want to do anything that might cause you to relive anything that you’d rather forget.

“You don’t plan to call her to help with any of this, do you?”

Colter shook his head.

Russell studied his brother, determining if that was the best option here. You were a PI and a damned good one if Reenie Green had sent you to help. It was obvious from his short interactions with the woman that she didn’t suffer fools and there wasn’t a single thing she missed. So he knew you had to be good at your job. Doug was still missing, Tracy was still worried, and they still weren’t any closer to finding any answers. It might be helpful to include you in this. Another pair of discerning eyes was always a good thing. In the end, though, Russell decided against saying anything. Instead, he asked, “So, you sure she’s off limits?” His brother gave him a glare and he couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m just kidding. I got it. Off limits.” 

He also didn’t mention that he had discreetly entered your number into his phone when you inconspicuously slid your business card over to him. At the time, he had thought you were giving him a greenlight to contact you after this was over, but now he realized you probably had known what Colter was going to do all along.

Instead, Russell mentioned the autopsy report he had stolen from the morgue and handed a copy to Colter to peruse. While he studied the paper, Russell discreetly sent you a message so you also had his number and so he could shoot you a text when the time was right.

You were in a store, grabbing some clothes to have for the next few days, not knowing how long you were going to be needed here, when your phone began to ring. One quick glance at the screen had you smirking. Russell Shaw. You had slyly given him your number earlier when Colter wasn’t looking, telling yourself you were making sure you were included in the case so you could do what you were sent here to do. But another smaller part of you had hoped the man would contact you for a whole other reason. You may not have been thrilled to learn what he did for a living but that little fact didn’t have to ruin any possible fun you two could have, right? 

Sure, you felt a little guilty because he was Colter’s brother but you were also a realist. There wasn’t anything happening with Colter and whatever had was never going anywhere. Plus that had been well over a year ago. In your mind, you were free as a bird. So, you made a move; now it was up to Russell to make the next one. And you were hoping this was it.

You slid the green button on your screen and put the phone up to your ear. “Russell Shaw,” you greeted, making sure your voice sounded something akin to warm honey slowly drizzling over some fruit. “I had a feeling you’d be calling me.”

“Could it have something to do with me texting you earlier that I’d call as soon as I had an update?”

“Tomato, tohmato.” Hearing his smooth chuckle come down the line, you continued to sift through a rack of shirts. “So, what can I do for you?”

“A lot it sounds like, if I’m being honest.” His voice had dipped in register much the same way it had in your presence before but the effect it had being spoken directly into your ear like this…well, it was a good thing you had already grabbed a half dozen pairs of panties to have on hand. While it took you a second to recover, you couldn’t help but smile. You had been right earlier; he was definitely interested.

A woman walked right past you and you lowered your voice further. “Do you plan to find out?”

“You bet your ass I will. As soon as I’m free to.”

Fuck. If you weren’t in the middle of a store right now, you may have just asked him to start talking dirty to you right there. You had only been on the phone with him for less than a minute and already you were digging your teeth into your lip to keep a guttural moan from escaping you. This man had you so turned on you were surprised that you could still see straight or that you hadn’t run to the dressing room to temporarily alleviate the fire he had started in your belly that was blazing a trail down in between your legs. That voice and the way he was using it right now…it was pure liquid sex being poured into your ear. Your irritation with Reenie had abated some when you met him, now it was all but gone as were any warnings she gave you about the man as well as the thought of his younger brother. “Good. I’m going to hold you to that.”

“Oh, I hope you do.” That didn’t make you clench down on nothing, not at all. If this continued, you would be in that dressing room in the next thirty seconds, guaranteed. You were already starting to get seriously aroused at the images playing in your head. 

“Trust me, there will definitely be some type of holding going on,” you promised. 

“Don’t I know it,” he nearly growled into your ear. Holy… That was it. You were on your way to the dressing room. The sign said only three items were allowed at a time but you didn’t give a fuck at the bulkload of items in your arm; this was an emergency.

But what he said next after quietly clearing his throat had you stopping in your tracks. “As much as I’d love to continue this conversation, I only have a limited window of time. But I promise, we will pick this up later.”

You nearly let out a whine of disappointment. You very much wanted to continue this conversation right now but it slowly was coming back to you that yes, there was currently a missing persons case that was supposed to be your first priority. His missing friend in fact. Your brain knew that was more important though your body was screaming for something else. He had promised though that you would continue this later, something you could keep in your mind’s eye at the end of this very long and fucked up rainbow. As long as he dove into your pot of gold at the end, you could hold out a few more hours. “You better,” you grumbled.

Another warm chuckle floated down the line.

You turned to another rack of shirts, aggressively working your way through it. “So you said something about an update?”

“Yeah.” You had to admire how quickly he switched gears. While you were still struggling to get your libido under control and you were irritated, he sounded completely professional and nonplussed, as if he hadn’t been just talking to you with that tone of voice or implying what he wanted later on. “I reached out to one of my contacts and we think Doug might be hiding out in a location outside of town. We’re on our way there now to check it out.”

Shame immediately filled you at the mention of his friend. Here you were, horny as hell, about to go take care of yourself in the dressing room a minute ago and possibly ask him to tell you in explicit detail what he’d like to be doing to you if he were there, and Doug was still missing. You were more professional than that — hell, you knew better than that. You shook off the remnants of the last few minutes and went right into work mode. “Alright, you want me to come along for backup?”

“I’d love to have you back us up, but, uh…” 

You frowned at the uncertainty suddenly coating his tone. He wasn’t one of those guys, was he? That would be severely disappointing if he was and quite the mood killer, not to mention his third strike against him. You needed to get laid but not that badly. Though you hadn’t gotten the impression that he was one of those misogynistic assholes who thought a woman didn’t know her way around the big scary noisemakers known as guns earlier. “But what?” You snapped.

“Colter thinks you should sit this one out.”

Your jaw tightened and you quickly moved away from the mother and daughter that had just moved near you, lowering your voice. “That motherf— I don’t give a flying fuck what Colter thinks. I am not being sidelined.” You fucking knew it. The minute you had heard what the actual case was, seeing Colter’s gaze of sympathy directed at you — you fucking knew he would try to pull this shit.

“I think he’s just worried about you. You know? After what you’ve been through…”

That pulled you up short. “Exactly what did he tell you?”

“Uh, not much. He just thought this kind of situation might hit a little too close to home.”

You muttered a curse under your breath and made your way to the cashier. Fucking Colter. You knew you should have never told him about what happened with your fiance. He was the type of guy who would keep that in mind every time something like this came up. Hell, you were pretty sure that was partially the reason he had bounced out of your apartment so fast at the end of the long weekend you’d spent together. Sure, he had snagged another case, but you would never forget the look in his eyes as he quickly dressed — the same look you had seen at lunch earlier. At that time, you had liked Colter and you didn’t think your past would be something that could be held against you. Even though your time together had been strictly casual, he had talked to you about his father a little bit and he had seen a picture of Nate in your living room. What were you supposed to do when he asked you about it? Lie? After he had just shared something so personal with you? After he had slept with you four times thus far? You weren’t ashamed of your time with Nate and you had loved the man, been ready to spend the rest of your life with him before he lost his. That was just a tragic fact in your life. Never in a million years did you imagine that not only would it kick someone out your door so fast but now it would prevent you from being able to do your job.   

“Is it?”

You had completely forgotten you were still on the phone, silently fuming about this sudden development. “Is it what?” You dumped your clothes on the counter and gave a nod to the cashier in return when she greeted you.

“Is it hitting a little too close?”

You decided to nip this shit right in the bud. “Okay, Shaw, you listen to me and you listen good. It doesn’t matter if it’s hitting too close as you put it, or not. I do my job and nothing gets in the way of that. Just because your asshat of a brother has apparently decided that I’m some fragile flower of a woman that needs protecting from my own feelings doesn’t mean shit. I’m damn good at what I do and I’m a fucking professional. You hear me?” You handed the woman your credit card, noticing she was giving you an approving nod. You had forgotten that she was hearing every word of this side of the conversation. 

“Yes, ma’am.”

That was all you wanted to hear. “Good. Now, when are you going to send me that location so I can meet you?” You took the bag from the cashier, quietly thanking her, and made your way out of the store. 

“Tell you what. We’re only about thirty minutes out. From where you are, it’s about an hour and a half drive. Why don’t you let us check it out first and if it’s no dice, you can meet us on the way back into town? We’ll regroup and work it together from there on out.”

You tossed your bag in the backseat of your car. “Shaw,” you growled. “What did I just say?”

“This isn't that,” he assured you. “It’s a matter of us working against the clock. We’ve got to get to Doug before the guys looking for him do. That’s all this is.” 

You placed a hand on your hip and unclenched your jaw. He had a point and you also heard what he wasn’t saying: you racing up there to meet them would only slow them down and Doug couldn’t afford that. “Alright, is there anything I can do to help from here?”

“Not at the moment but keep your phone on. Depending on how this goes, we may need to lock down an address and quickly. And for that, we’re going to need you. I’m assuming you have an FBI contact somewhere?”

You pressed your lips together and got into your car. “I know someone,” you confirmed. “He owes me a favor or two.”

“I really want to say something right now at the idea of you and favors and me being the one to close out that guy’s tab but I can’t. My window of time is closing in about fifteen seconds.”

You smirked, shaking your head. “Pretty sure you just did.”

He cleared his throat one more time, affecting an even more professional tone than you’d heard from him thus far. “Got to go. Keep your phone on. I’ll text you as soon as I know what the situation is.” 

“Okay, will do.” You briefly closed your eyes, deciding the hell with it. “And, Russell?”

“Yeah?”

“Be careful,” you quietly urged, digging your teeth into your bottom lip. Despite what you said to him before, hearing speak in a way that was similar to Nate had your nerves sitting a little bit on edge, now knowing what he and his friend Doug did for a living and what he and Colter could possibly be walking into. 

“Copy that,” he responded, making you realize that his limited window of time he mentioned had expired and he was no longer alone. Sure enough, you could hear the sounds of a car door shutting in the background.

“Keep me updated.”

“Will do. Talk soon.” Before you could say anything else, the line disconnected. Even though you’d heard the confirmation of why he had to go so quickly, a part of you irrationally worried for a second that you had probably scared him off. That your warning him to be careful only cemented whatever Colter had said about you to him and why the former wanted to keep you sidelined. You had meant what you said earlier; you were a professional and your personal tragedies would never get in the way of your job. But that didn’t mean that an age-old worry you’d had every time Nate had gone to work didn’t immediately resurface the minute you were faced with a similar situation. And even though you were pissed at Colter, you also didn’t want him to get hurt.

The moment you figured you had screwed yourself with Russell, and not in the good way, an alert sounded on your phone. You glanced at your screen and saw a new text message from the very man you had just been thinking about. 

“We’ve got this. I’ll text you the minute we’re done checking it out.”

A small smile formed on your face and you texted back a genuine “Thank you”. You forced yourself to take a deep breath and get your head back in the game. You still had to find a motel to check into and you also had to be ready in case they did end up needing that address Russell had mentioned. You quickly looked up motels on your phone, weeding out the ones with the worse reviews, and settling on a place. You fired up Google Maps and started the car, intent on getting a room and firing up your laptop to check on a few cases to keep you busy while you were waiting. That had always been the worst part for you: the waiting. Waiting for a phone call or text to let you know Nate was okay after a job even though he couldn’t tell you the details of said job. So you were determined to place your focus elsewhere but also be ready in case you were needed. 

You truly hoped the brothers found Doug alive at this location they were headed to and that the danger, if any, was minimal. That it was truly nothing the two couldn’t handle together.

Russell quickly hung up with you the minute Colter hopped back into his truck. His brother had stopped to get some coffee at Russell’s insistence though Colter had kept repeating they shouldn’t be stopping. When the latter didn’t immediately get out to go get the beverages after they parked, Colter arched his brows expectantly. Russell had given him a wide smile. “Mind getting it quick?” He waved his phone at the man, indicating he needed to make a call.

Colter looked less than pleased but gave him a nod, most likely assuming it was a call to one of Russell’s contacts that should remain unknown as his older brother had intended, and left. Russell removed his sunglasses and immediately pressed the phone icon next to your name, calling you.

Now, he definitely knew three things: you had lost someone to this type of work, you were a little bit of a spitfire and he liked you even more now, and he was definitely going to pay you a visit after he closed up this whole thing with Doug and got the man back to his wife in one piece. 

Sure, when he’d first seen you, you had been somewhat hostile but entertaining and you’d been a hot mess. One hell of a hot mess in his opinion. Then you’d been flirty, checking him out, and you had even stolen his fries to use them for implications that definitely hadn’t been lost on him (or Colter for that matter, the glare his brother graced you with when you weren’t looking he hadn’t seen since they were kids). Though he’d clocked your change in demeanor when Doug’s situation was brought up and hadn’t missed your evading his question about your engagement status, he couldn’t resist eyeing you up as you walked over to the food truck behind him, nearly whistling at the perfection he was staring at. Not to mention, he liked your spunk and that only made him want you that much more. Then when you plopped back down with your food, completely in professional mode and talking over the case quickly before Colter sent you off, he was even more impressed and he just knew he had to take his shot with you. Under him, over him, to the side of him — whatever you wanted, he was game. No matter what Colter had to say on the matter. Unless his brother had feelings for you, he was going for it the first chance he got.

Colter handed him his coffee, nodding at Russell’s thanking him. “You get anything?”

“Nothing more than we already know.” He placed his sunglasses back on and sipped at his coffee, feeling slightly bad for lying to his brother. He knew Colter’s “off limits” was more about protecting you than it was anything else. But he also had just gotten his brother to start talking to him again, to work Doug’s disappearance with him, and he didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that. Nothing within reason, anyway. So a little white lie needed to be told; he’d done it before and way worse. Besides, he also didn’t think it was fair that Colter didn’t allow you the decision of whether you wanted to be involved in this or not. While he could appreciate his little brother looking out for you like the good man he’d turned out to be, everyone deserved to make their own well-informed choices. Considering your ex had been former military turned private contractor, you more than knew what you were dealing with. You had made a good point earlier: your history shouldn’t impact the job you had come here to do. And far be it from Russell to be the one to stand in your way and keep you from doing just that. Plus, they could really use your help if this safehouse Ann had given them didn’t pan out. 

Colter nodded and backed out of the parking spot. “Onward to the safe house. No more stops, right?”

“Right,” Russell confirmed. While Colter was distracted, he discreetly adjusted himself. There had been a moment in your conversation there that he had been tempted to tell you just how hard your sexy-as-hell voice and heavy flirtation had gotten him. But he knew once he did that, there would be no going back and either he’d have to jerk off in his brother’s truck (which would just be awkward especially if Colter returned quickly) or he’d have to somehow sneak into the coffee shop and make his way to the bathrooms so he could rub one out in there. Though that might also prove to be awkward if anyone else walked in to overhear the absolutely filthy things he would be murmuring into your ear from a stall, all of the promises he’d make about what he wanted to do to that sweet body of yours as soon as he had the chance, the sounds of him whacking it echoing loudly in the small space along with his deep groans. There had even been once or twice he’d gently rubbed the bulge in his jeans as you talked, only backing off when it got to be too much and he was about to break, close to ordering you to go somewhere private where you could touch yourself as well while also making sure you could be loud enough so he could hear every amazing sound he knew you would make. Hell, when you’d laid down the law to him, he’d nearly unzipped his jeans and stuck his hand inside to get some relief right there. Not that he didn’t hear what you were saying, not that he didn’t respect it or you, but damn if that little bit of fire you’d thrown his way didn’t turn him on even more. When he had answered you with “Yes, ma’am” a part of him had definitely been saluting you, no doubt about it.

Then he heard someone talking to you in the background, presumably a store clerk since it sounded like you had been told an amount for whatever you were buying. He had the quick thought, or hope, that maybe you were in a Victoria’s Secret or one of those places, buying a little something for him to unwrap you out of later on. Realizing just how much lust had fogged up his brain during this conversation, he dropped his head back against the seat, shut his eyes, and compulsively swallowed. He was immediately determined to keep his cool for the rest of your chat, especially when he opened his eyes to see Colter holding the coffee shop door open for an elderly couple walking inside, coffee cups stacked in his other hand. From there, he’d kept things professional and brief, though he hadn’t been able to resist getting that one last tease in before Colter opened the door. 

And then he’d heard your warning, detecting a note of worry in it, so he’d done what he could to reassure you with the text message he just discreetly sent you. He appreciated the fact that while this case might be stirring up some feelings from the past, you still had gone ahead and told him to be safe. He knew it was meant for both him and Colter, you obviously knowing how dangerous the job could be, but he was still getting used to him being included in that group. It was a little strange for him if he was honest. Other than Tracy saying it when he would pick Doug up for a job and the occasional conversation with Dory where he mentioned he was about to go to work, there was no one else who told him to be careful, to be safe. He found he kind of liked the idea and that only increased his appreciation of your situation, especially now having an even better idea of what you might be currently experiencing. He was no stranger to trauma, that was for sure, and so he could only imagine the thoughts racing through your mind right now, you being pissed off at Colter or not, you having just met him or not. He didn’t intend to give you cause for any more worry. No, he intended to give you something else when all was said and done. He couldn’t help but smirk at the thought.    

But now — now, it was go time. He needed to clear his head and focus on the job. He needed to get Doug back to his wife alive. Colter had made Tracy a promise that both brothers were intent on keeping. And Russell had made you a promise, one he was determined as hell to see through. 

You were just leaving the bathroom wrapped in a towel, your hair damp and sitting on one shoulder after you just squeezed the water out of it, when you heard a knock on your motel room door. 

You frowned, wondering who it could be, thinking maybe it was Colter. He always had a way of finding you when that was the last thing you wanted him to do. Truthfully, you had bitched him out earlier when he called you to inform you that he had just successfully delivered Doug back home to his wife, alive and unharmed. He and Russell had found the man at the safehouse and he told them who he had been running from. While Colter didn’t share that information, you gathered from what he did share that it had something to do with a job he and Russell had done for Horizon in the past. You kept your mouth shut but you shook your head. You knew it. Doing that kind of work was always dangerous and always carried risks like that. 

They made the long drive back and now the case was closed. Something you already knew thanks to the text message Russell had sent you already confirming this but you didn’t let on to Colter that you knew. Instead, you proceeded to tell him to stop treating you like a fragile porcelain doll and from there it quickly became heated between you two. The conversation ended soon after with neither of you willing to budge and you let out an aggravated sigh when you hit the end call button. You were grateful he and Russell were okay, but the former could drive you up a wall sometimes. If you could go back in time, you would definitely have told him to get lost when he showed up on your doorstep that one Friday night.

That immediately made you think of Russell and you realized you hadn’t texted him back yet. Colter had called right after you received the text message, with you assuming they had just gotten back into an area with service, and he had told you they had Doug and he’d call again when they got him safely home. You had sat on pins and needles, trying to focus on your most prevalent case, but the worry gnawed at you. Colter’s tone had not been his usual calm, devil-may-care one. It was coated with concern, not something you heard from him too often. So you had been distracted until Colter called you again and then the rest was history.

You slid over to Russell’s name on your screen and tried to call him but it went straight to voicemail. A different worry began to gnaw at you this time, the worry that you had indeed scared him off earlier. He had thought twice about it and decided you weren’t worth getting involved with, not even for the casual one night stand. The disappointment sat in your chest for a moment until you got angry. Between the argument with Colter and now Russell bailing on the plans he had implied to you that he wanted to keep, you were done. You hopped up and grabbed the bottle of whiskey you had purchased earlier, twisted off the cap, and took a swig. Well, it looked like it would be another dry night for you and your trip out here had been a complete waste. Colter hadn’t wanted your help and now you weren’t bumping pelvises with his hot older brother either so it was a lose-lose for you. As usual.

You swigged some more whiskey before deciding it was time for that shower you had been craving since this morning. Sure, you could take care of yourself in there and it might ease some of this angry tension in your body that Colter had helped to create, but you were too annoyed. You had angrily slammed your laptop shut and headed for the bathroom, intent on washing all of the bullshit from the last twenty four hours away.

And now, Colter had decided to show up. Of course he had. He might have a thing for Reenie that he refused to acknowledge (as did she), but he was angry (something not usual for him), worked up, and you were in town. Of course he’d show up wanting a repeat performance of the angry sex you’d had in the past. While you could really use the lay to get you out of this drought you found yourself in, you had no desire to go back there and you were definitely not in the mood.

That didn’t mean you wouldn’t give him a tease of what he couldn’t have, though. Not after that argument. Which is exactly why you decided to answer the door dressed (or underdressed) as you were. But when you angrily swung the door open, the person staring back at you in momentary shock was not Colter Shaw. You were shocked yourself; how the hell had he found you?   

Russell’s gaze darkened as he took all of you in. You noticed that he had changed his clothes and his hair looked slightly damp, as if he had recently taken a shower himself. “Hey,” he greeted, his voice dipping in register again. 

And just like that, as if a button had been pressed with that deep tone of his, you were back in the mood. You smirked and leaned against the door. “Hey,” you silkily replied. “Not the Shaw brother I was expecting.”

“But the one you were hoping for, right?” Russell’s wolfish grin was back, completely undeterred by your teasing.

You pretended to think it over for a moment. “Depends.” You grabbed at his jacket and yanked him in closer to you, making him chuckle as you swung the door shut behind him. “What does this brother plan to do?”

“Like I said,” He used that voice again, making goosebumps rise along your skin. “Whatever you want.”

“Exactly what I wanted to hear.” You lifted up and wrapped your arms around his neck, the movement forcing the towel to fall from your body, as you pushed your lips to his. You ran your fingers through his hair and greedily kissed him, nearly moaning into his mouth when his tongue delved into yours and his hands palmed at your ass. If he moved those fingers a little lower, he would find you already practically dripping for him. If you weren’t so busy trying to keep your balance as he proceeded to devour you, you might have marveled at the effect this man had on your body.  

A moment later, he gripped your ass tightly and picked you up, prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist. You could feel the covered bulge against you and you couldn’t help trying to grind a little against it, trying to get some friction.

When you both needed air, you moved to his neck, yanking his head backwards and making him chuckle as you went to town on him. You could also hear him letting out tiny groans above you as he tried to catch his breath. It was one of the hottest fucking things you’d ever heard and you intended on hearing more before the night’s end. “I should tell you before we go any further,” he panted.

“Mmmm, the only thing I need to know is if you’re clean. Because I really want that in my mouth.” You reached below to squeeze his erection, making his breath catch that was then let out in a quiet hiss.

“I-I’m clean,” he assured you.

“Good, me too,” you murmured, nibbling on his ear. “You just need to make sure to pull out and we’re golden.” 

“Okay. I, uh, I also came packing.”

You moved your hand over him and squeezed once more, earning another drawn out hiss of “shit”. “You certainly did.”

He moved you back so he could look at you, his eyes the darkest you’d seen them yet. He cupped your cheek, gliding his thumb along your bottom lip before gently placing it inside your mouth against your tongue. You sucked the digit in further, moaning around it. His gaze was so transfixed on your mouth that you couldn’t help but snicker and release his thumb with a pop. “Russell.”

His gaze slowly trailed upwards to meet yours.

“Was there something you wanted to tell me?” You teased as you rubbed earnestly at his erection. 

“Uh,” You noticed his eyes close briefly when you rubbed near where the tip was located. You could feel a little wet spot forming on the denim underneath your ministrations and it made you grin. “Uh, Colter said you were off limits.”

Your hand immediately stopped its motion. Oh no, that motherfucker had not. He had no claim to you and whatever moment you two had back in the day had long since passed, along with the several women he’d bedded after you including Reenie. There was no way in hell he got to play the dibs card or tell you and Russell, two consenting adults, what to do. You planned to tell him that the next time you spoke with him, if you ever did again. For now, though, you only wanted to focus on the man whose fingers were hungrily roaming over your bare ass and lower, groaning when he found your own wet spot.

You cupped his chin, making sure he was looking straight at you as you stated in the sexiest voice you could manage, “I think you mean no limits. Right, Russell?”

He groaned and held you to him as he hurriedly walked you over to the bed. “Fuck, I knew I liked you.” You let out a giggle as he tossed you gently onto the bed that was quickly cut off by a moan when his body immediately covered yours and his tongue plundered your mouth.

A sudden thought occurred to you and you nearly chuckled against his lips. You had seen the way he had been eyeing you up earlier today and you realized you had the man completely pegged right then. Because just like the Big Bad Wolf, he proceeded to consume you completely, before the tables turned and you did some devouring of your own.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for Tim falling for you

Tim Bradford x reader

warnings:

a/n: im gonna be so honest i love him your honor

prompt: @sacredwarrior88: “May I please request headcanons for Tim falling in love with a female detective who's also a veteran and swore off love and relationships after her divorce?”

you’d just transferred to mid wilshire a few months prior

and from the moment tim heard you complaining about discipline and rookies needing a kick in the ass—he was head over heels

you were also a veteran, he felt a connection with you for that

he’d always make small talk with you

“so, where’d you serve?” -tim

he was cute and all, you just weren’t ready to fall in love again—or ever

“you know, i think tim really likes you, l/n” -lucy

“oh, i know” -you “you don’t become a sergeant in the army and not be able to tell when a boy has a crush on you”

“so? you don’t like him back or something. he’s a great guy, he was my TO. i mean, he’s a hard ass, but like, he’s a great guy” -lucy

“i appreciate you trying to help, but i’m not here looking for a relationship, chen” -you

harper and lopez would rag on him constantly for not making a move

“they just got here, i’ll give it a few more months” -tim

“it’s been a few months, what’s really going on?” -lopez

“yeah, bradford, i never took you for a shy guy” -harper

“we’ve been out for a few beers, it’s just…” -tim

“well, spit it out!” -lopez

“y/n just got divorced and told me they don’t want to get into anything serious—ever again” -tim

“wow, your dream partner just walks into your life and is unattainable by means of hating all men” -harper

“well, you thought you’d never find love again after your divorce and look at how far you’ve come, tim. at least give it a little time” -lopez

“isn’t that what i just said?” -tim

“i get where y/n’s coming from, though. i mean, after i got divorced i was over all men forever. now i’ve got a husband and another beautiful daughter” -harper

tim felt really discouraged, he thought you were perfect for him but he understood that dating a coworker was complicated. so was divorce

but instead of trying to get you, he tried to be there for you

“how’ve you been. new station, new city, new start?” -tim

“it’s fine. taking it day by day” -you

“you know, i could give you some good restaurant recommendations or something?” -tim

“no thanks, lucy beat you to it” -you

“of course she did. you know, she used to be my rookie” -tim

“she told me right after she told me you have a crush on me” -you

tim got red in the face very fast

and you made sure to keep your composure just long enough to make it awkward

“she…she did, did she?” -tim, through clenched teeth

“yep” -you, starting to laugh

“you’re messing with me” -tim

“i’m not, actually. i just think its cute you’re embarrassed” -you “but you already know my story”

“i do. and i hope you can take the time you need before you agree to go out with me, because i don’t think i’m gonna get you out of my head anytime soon” -tim

“ooh, sergeant bradford, i didn’t think i’d get to see this side of you. you’re always tripping over your words with me” -you

“well, i had a helpful talk with some meddling detectives” -tim

“i can take a guess who you’re referring to” -you

“i’d love to grab a beer with you sometime if you’re not ready to date yet, but i’d love to grab dinner with you if you are” -tim

“i’ll give dinner a thought, but for now drinks will do” -you

tim started treating you mostly normal and getting his confidence back since spilling his guts to you over drinks, and the girls were cheering him on every time you were within 20 feet of each other

he started treating you professionally, with a few winks and sly comments here and there

“so, you’re giving bradford a chance?” -lopez

“i’m giving a chance to giving him a chance” -you

“i feel you there, after my divorce i couldn’t imagine dating again, but i’m glad i found it in me to give my husband a chance” -harper

“he’s a good one?” -you

“eh, i’d give him a solid 6 out of 10” -lopez

“yeah? well i’ve been debating taking him up on that dinner, but that six rating really convinced me” -you

you finally found caught tim after shift and gave him the good news and he couldn’t be more excited

really, he’d been planning this date for weeks

and it went amazingly

“can i kiss you?” -tim

“only if you want to” -you

taglist: @summersimmerus //

[didalexiabreakupwitholgaisback]

el caso rubiales: headlines from day 5, in which montse lied and no one was surprised. 🙃

today was another short day in court, with only three witnesses: montse tomé (manager for the spanish national team), salvador losa (sports minister in ibiza), and alejandra hernández, the wife of rubén rivera (ex-director of marketing for rfef).

so we start the day outside of court, with the media approaching jorge vilda as he went to court and vilda not saying much except that he was thankful for the supportive messages of some (female) players. and he declined to mention names. 🙃

in court, losa testified first about how the celebration in ibiza was pre-planned if the women's team won the world cup. he also did not know does not know if rubén rivera approached jenni during his stay in ibiza.

montse then took the stand and blatantly lied to the court. she stated that jenni not being called up was not "a punishment" for the player. she said that she left her out for "sports reasons." montse claimed that jenni had not had enough training sessions with her team in mexico to be in a condition to be called up.

montse also confirmed that "rubiales had nothing to do with it" and that "the decision not to call jenni are sports issues and i am responsible. he (jorge vilda) did not intervene."

when pushed by the prosecutor about the reasons not calling jenni were to protect the player, montse flat out said: "the reasons why jenni did not come to the first call were sports and the protection is part of that, because of the situation we were living. to protect her from the media. but it's all a sporting decision."

this of course is in contrast to her statements from september 2023 in which she said that jenni was not called up to protect her and that she had talked to the players. (see video below)

it has to be said that the prosecutor and jenni's attorneys tried to probe deeper into this line of questioning but were stopped by the judge, so we did not get very deep into the motivations behind this lack of call-up.

montse also confirmed that she was not aware of the protocol that was put in place by rfef to support and protect players like jenni. she also stated that she went to the infamous assembly of rubiales, in which he refused he resign, because she was asked to go by jorge vilda.

to close the day, hernández testified that she did not see her husband approach jenni during the sunset in ibiza but did see him make a gesture to ana ecube, jenni's friend. she also does not know why albert luque was at the island.

source: iratividal on twitter

"the first thing to say is that we are with jenni in everything and with all the players. we believe that the way to help her is to be close to them, to listen to them. i, who am the maximum responsible for both my staff, we have believed that the best way to protect her in this call is like this. so, we count on jenni, i have been working with her for five years, i have agreed with her as a professional partner because when we played together, we have faced each other and it is what it is."

[prettyboysdontlookatexplosions]

one of the key points that emily hanford makes in sold a story is that as a result of the politics surrounding no child left behind, reading pedagogy itself wound up regrettably politicized. the bush administration’s “reading first” initiative was intended in part to bring american classrooms up to date with what was known about the science of reading, including a “back to basics” angle that involved systemic phonics instruction; because this fell under the banner of Bush Education Policy, and also because (as is literally always the case in education) the roll-out was poorly managed, many teachers (as per hanford) rejected it.

what this means is:

(1) if you attended kindergarten through second grade after 2002 and are glad you went to school in the era of phonics, unlike these misbegotten youth, no you didn’t; as the podcast highlights, the initiative failed at scale (although she notes that some teachers in the few districts where implementation was handled with care found the professional development around it useful)

(2) if you attended kindergarten through second grade in the 90s and are glad you went to school in the era of phonics, unlike these misbegotten youth, no you didn’t; the rise of phonics as a battle in 2001 onwards indicates that it was not in fact settled practice at that point, as indeed does the resistance practicing teachers mounted to being asked to incorporate systemic phonics instruction. balanced literacy, the approach sold a story spends much of its time critiquing, is typically said to have arisen in the 90s.

(3) if you went to elementary school before the 90s, tbh you’re also on thin ice wrt these claims, because whole language, the pedagogical model to which balanced literacy is in theory a more phonics-friendly update, is based on a set of theories originating in the 60s & 70s and probably hit its peak in the 80s, with the balanced literacy of the 90s being seen as a “compromise” between whole language and a more traditional approach.

(4) the traditional approach featuring phonics doesn’t mean that it taught phonics well enough for all students to succeed. hanford early on in the podcast includes the story of an adult who never successfully learned to read in school. this person was a vietnam veteran.

remember: some kids can in fact learn to read without much instruction in phonics, or with essentially a basic overview. tbh unless you received remediation/support for a learning disability, i would not draw any conclusions from your fuzzy childhood memories and the mere fact that you can read about whether or not your school was teaching reading right. (to give one example from my fuzzy childhood memories - if your first grade teacher taught you “when two vowels go a walkin, the first one does the talking,” as mine did in 1994 or so - that was teaching phonics poorly! that’s not a rule it’s recommended to teach, because it’s not reliably true! if it was enough for you, that says more about non-classroom factors in reading success than it does about your first grade teacher, who may have been lovely in other ways.) on the other hand, teachers certainly have always existed who have been more proactive than the field at large about incorporating science into their practice (or, alternately, recalcitrant about change in ways that sometimes have benefits lmao); having lucked into one or several of those doesn’t mean you grew up in the era of phonics, because, like, there are so many fucking teachers in this country.

[catastrophespouse]

And even with well-meaning medical professionals I've still faced issues as a transmasc! A doctor at PP prescribed me estrogen-based birth control that fucked my hormones all up despite knowing I was on T, because of this idea that testosterone will "overpower" the estrogen in the pills. It... did not. But I've gotten several contradictory answers about the effects of birth control pills on people taking T, which is... concerning, since T does not act as birth control on its own!

i fully buy that this (lowdosing) is true but oh my God why does it have to come back to "TMEs" believing that it's weaker? Why is the medical industry so invested in that? Why wouldn't it be invested in making "TMAs" believe that?

Most of the "TMEs" people refer to already have bodies that are affected by estrogen. In fact, if you actually talk to "transandrobros" you will find we often discuss how estrogen is wrongly and misogynistically portrayed as the weaker hormone, when we KNOW it isn't because it fundamentally changed our bodies in ways that require medical intervention to change again. Like. what do you think WE are gaining from trans women getting low dosed or propaganda about estrogen being weak. Why does this have to be about how the medical industry loves trans men and is only systemically against trans women. Hellloooooo

[fuck-customers]

Today my manager called me into his office to discussed some issues with a particular task. He hadn’t said anything in particular about it in over 6 months (I’d only begun doing this at the end of 2023) so I thought everything was fine. He told me he’s confused by the my work and how it’s lacking and he’s unable to understand what I did. I explained my research and my decision making process and he took no time to tell me how I should’ve done better but offered no suggestions on what that meant. He claimed I didn’t do enough research or that I shouldn’t just blindly believe what other professionals tell me and should question everything. I don’t know how to question something an expert is telling me when I don’t know anything. I would think I’m supposed to trust them. So I called him out on there not being any training for the position I’m in and his roundabout way of admitting that but still blaming me was to say that while there was no formal training, I’d been doing this for 2 years (not true) I should’ve known what to do by now. I still don’t know because I was never taught how to do it so I can only do the best I can while also trying to complete my other tasks, that I actually know how to do.

Posted by admin Rodney