#but i’m a pretty good shot so maybe i could get over it

[jhyoos]

REBEL GIRL

Chapter 4: Ugh! As If!

rockstar!sevika x influencer!reader

summary: reader has to suffer the consequences of her actions.

mentions: modern au, fame au, drama, swearing, mommy caitlyn, groping, kissing, neck biting and kissing, drunk truth or dare.

notes : drafts somehow deleted…and I didn’t back it up so im writing off of hopes and dreams. love yall 🫵❤️🎸

chapters : one, two, three, four

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room as you made your way to the bathroom for a much-needed shower. The hot water cascaded down your body, soothing the lingering tension from the previous night’s chaos. You hummed softly to yourself, allowing the steam and the scent of your vanilla body wash to envelop you.

As you rinsed off, faint noises from the room outside caught your attention. You figured it was Caitlyn moving around, likely getting ready for her own day. Brushing it off, you continued to enjoy the quiet moment of solitude.

After about half an hour, you stepped out of the bathroom feeling refreshed, your skin soft and glistening from the lotion you’d applied. A fluffy towel was wrapped securely around you as you walked back into the room, ready to pick out an outfit for the day.

Your peace was short-lived when you noticed someone sitting on your side of the bed. It wasn’t Caitlyn.

“Oh…it’s you,” you said flatly, your tone dripping with irritation as you recognized Sevika lounging on the mattress like she owned it.

She smirked, leaning back slightly, her arms crossed as she watched you. “Good morning to you, too.”

Ignoring her, you made your way to the closet, pulling out your luggage to sift through your clothes. You crouched carefully, mindful of the towel wrapped around you. You knew Sevika was probably watching, and you weren’t about to give her any kind of show.

When you finally found something to wear, you stood up and placed the outfit on the bed. Turning, you noticed Sevika’s eyes still fixed on you, her gaze unrelenting.

“What the fuck do you want?” you snapped, annoyance clear in your voice.

Sevika let out a dramatic sigh, shifting to make herself more comfortable on your side of the bed. “An apology,” she said simply, her tone laced with mock seriousness. “My phone’s been blowing up all morning because of you. Maybe a little…gesture of goodwill would help. Head sounds like a great place to start.”

You glared at her, utterly unamused. “Ugh, as if!” you shot back. “And honestly, you should be happy you’re getting so much recognition. Free publicity.”

Sevika raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed.

Rolling your eyes, you huffed. “Fine. How about this? I’ll buy you food as an apology, and I’ll take care of debunking everything. Happy now?”

She regarded you with a skeptical expression, her eyebrow arching even higher. “Food? It better be something expensive. I’m sure a girl with a four-million-dollar net worth can figure that out.”

You froze, staring at her in disbelief. “Oh my gosh! You stalker…what the fuck? You’ve been looking me up?”

Sevika smirked, standing and stretching as she made her way toward the door. “Yeah. And your dating history, too. You’ve got pretty good taste. Might text one of them later.”

Your jaw dropped. “You—!”

Before you could finish, she opened the door and stepped out, narrowly dodging the pillow you hurled at her.

Her laughter echoed in the hallway as you stood there fuming, shaking your head. “Unbelievable,” you muttered under your breath, already regretting offering to buy her anything.

But as much as she got under your skin, you couldn’t ignore the faint smile tugging at the corner of your lips. Something about Sevika’s audacity was maddeningly entertaining, even if you’d never admit it.

After pulling on your outfit and styling your hair into something effortlessly simple, you grabbed your phone and sat down on the edge of the bed. The articles and posts about you and Sevika were still fresh in your mind, and you knew your manager was probably seconds away from blowing a gasket if you didn’t address the rumors.

You needed a tweet that was professional enough to appease your manager but also blunt enough to shut everyone else up. It took you a moment to think before your fingers began typing.

“Me and Sevika are just friends. If I’m in a relationship, I would’ve already confirmed it by now. Get off my dick and leave my friends alone.”

You reread it once, nodded in approval, and hit “Post.” Within seconds, the tweet was blowing up. Likes, retweets, and comments flooded in, most of them praising your straightforwardness.

(y/n)smaingf: This is why I love her LMAO

viseye: Ugh…I was in the middle of fanart about y’all

sevileftnut: Ya know what…Hell yeah!

You decided not to scroll too much further—no point in diving into the cesspool of opinions. Tossing your phone onto the bed, you grabbed your bag and headed for the door, ready to start the day.

When you got downstairs, the group was already waiting for you in the lobby. Caitlyn leaned against a pillar, her arms crossed, while the others stood or sat around, all wearing smug expressions that immediately annoyed you.

You raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Vi smirked. “We saw the tweet.”

“And?” you asked, exasperated.

“You’re treating us to free food, obviously,” Sevika chimed in, crossing her arms as she leaned casually against the wall. Her smirk was just as infuriating as the rest of them.

You rolled your eyes. “Fine. Free food for everyone. Happy now?”

A cheer went up from the group as you pinched the bridge of your nose, already regretting your generosity. “Can someone at least order the Uber, please?”

Jinx raised a hand. “I guess I’ll do it.” She pulled out her phone and started tapping away.

Caitlyn nudged your shoulder. “You’ve got a way with words,” she said with a small smile.

You shrugged. “Someone had to say it.”

As you waited for the Uber, you dug into your bag and pulled out your mini vlog camera, the familiar weight of it a comforting tool for killing time. “While we wait, let’s make some content, please?” you said, flashing a quick smile as you powered it on. The red recording light blinked on as you turned the lens toward the group, framing yourself and everyone else in the background.

Fixing your hair in the little camera screen, you caught Sevika rolling her eyes in the reflection. “Aye, I can see you, Sev,” you said, turning your head to glare at her playfully.

Sevika leaned back against the wall with her arms crossed, her expression unimpressed. “Hurry up already, princess. The Uber’s gonna be here any minute.”

You ignored her impatient tone with a dramatic sigh, pressing the record button. “Hey, you guys!” you said in your most cheerful voice, pointing the camera at yourself. “Guess what? We’re heading to Five Guys, and I’m paying. This is my charity for the day—I’m feeding starving artists.” You smiled mischievously at the camera before panning it to the band behind you.

The group groaned collectively at your teasing. Jinx leaned into the shot with a smirk. “You do know it’s 1 v 4, right? You’re outnumbered.”

Without missing a beat, you fired back, “Oh, please. I can take you all at once.”

The air froze for a second before Vi raised an eyebrow and burst out laughing. “Woah, that sounded wrong.”

“Oh my god, you freak!” you shouted, clutching your chest dramatically as if offended. The others joined in with their laughter, the sound of it filling the parking lot and making the moment feel more alive.

“Cut the camera, Y/N,” Caitlyn teased, nudging you gently. “Before this vlog turns into a comedy special.”

You shrugged. “Hey, this is pure gold. The fans will love it.”

Sevika, still leaning against the wall, muttered, “Yeah, great. Let them see you lose your mind before dinner.”

“Sev, the only thing I’m losing is patience with your attitude,” you quipped, spinning the camera toward her. She glared at you half-heartedly, but you caught the faintest twitch of amusement in her lips.

Just as you were about to retort, the Uber pulled up to the curb. “Saved by the ride,” Vi joked, pointing to the black SUV.

You turned off the camera, tucking it back into your bag. “Alright, let’s go, starving artists. The food awaits.”

Sevika brushed past you as the group piled into the car, her hand grazing your lower back in a way that felt both accidental and deliberate. “After you, princess,” she said, her voice dripping with mock politeness.

You rolled your eyes, climbing into the back seat. “One of these days, Sev, you’re gonna wish you were nicer to me.”

“Doubt it,” she shot back, settling into her seat. The banter continued as the car pulled into traffic, and you couldn’t help but smirk, already anticipating how the night would unfold.

The ride back from Five Guys was anything but quiet. The car was filled with laughter, teasing, and the occasional groan of someone who had eaten too much. Vi leaned back in her seat, hands on her stomach, a satisfied grin on her face. “Alright,” she announced, “I think I’ve had enough carbs to fuel me for the entire night. I’m officially ready to party.”

Jinx, sitting beside her, raised her hand like she was in class. “I second that! We’re hitting the club tonight, and I’m not holding back.” She leaned forward, grinning at everyone else.

You, however, were still half-reclined in your seat, your head resting against the window as you groaned. “Y’all really have that much energy after all that food? I need at least two naps before even considering going out again.”

As the car pulled up to the hotel, Caitlyn suddenly turned to you, her voice firm. “Not so fast, (Y/N). You’re not going anywhere tonight.” You froze, blinking at her in confusion.

“What? Why?”

Caitlyn crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow. “Because last night was a disaster waiting to happen, and I’m not about to have you causing chaos again.”

The group laughed, but Caitlyn’s expression remained serious, leaving you groaning in protest as everyone else headed up to get ready.

Minutes later, you found yourself sprawled across the bed in your shared room, flipping through channels with one hand and scrolling your phone with the other. The TV droned on about some crime show you weren’t really paying attention to, but it was better than sitting in silence. You huffed in frustration, tossing your phone aside, just as the door creaked open.

“I thought I was locked in,” you said dryly, not bothering to glance up. You assumed it was Caitlyn coming to check on you.

“Guess I’ve got the key,” came a familiar, low drawl.

Your head snapped up to see Sevika leaning casually against the doorframe, her arms crossed, a small smirk tugging at her lips. She was dressed down compared to her usual style, wearing a loose black shirt and jeans. The relaxed look somehow made her even more infuriating.

“What do you want?” you muttered, sulking deeper into the bed.

She shrugged and strolled in, letting the door click shut behind her. “I’m putting myself in time-out too,” she said nonchalantly. “No one’s allowed to have fun without me.” She plopped into the chair near the bed, slouching back as if she owned the place.

You stared at her for a moment, debating whether you wanted company. But as the TV continued to drone on, you sighed, realizing it beat being bored alone. “Fine. If you’re staying, we’re making this interesting.”

Her eyebrow quirked as she watched you sit up, reaching for your suitcase. From its depths, you pulled out a bottle of whiskey, your secret stash for nights like these. You placed it on the nightstand with a sense of finality, grabbing two glasses.

Sevika’s smirk deepened as she leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “Drinking truth or dare?” she asked, her voice tinged with amusement.

“Exactly,” you said, pouring the amber liquid into both glasses before sliding one her way. “Unless you’re scared to play.”

“Scared?” She scoffed, picking up her glass. “You don’t know me at all, princess.”

The game began innocently enough. Sevika dared you to do a horrible celebrity impression, which resulted in a laugh so loud it made her throw her head back. In retaliation, you dared her to sing a verse from a Taylor Swift, and the sound of her gruff voice struggling through the high notes of Lover left you in tears from laughter.

“Alright, truth,” she said after finishing her whiskey, her cheeks faintly flushed.

You grinned mischievously. “What’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done on stage?”

Sevika groaned, her hand rubbing the back of her neck. “I ripped my pants. Front and back. In front of a packed crowd.”

You burst into laughter, nearly spilling your drink. “No way!”

“Swear on it. And I had to play the rest of the set like that,” she admitted, her voice tinged with both embarrassment and pride.

“Legendary,” you said, raising your glass to her.

When it was your turn, Sevika leaned forward, her smirk widening. “Dare,” you said confidently.

“I dare you to prank call your manager,” she said, pulling her phone from her pocket and sliding it over to you.

You grinned as you dialed her number, lowering your voice to imitate a stiff, formal tone. “Hello, this is Officer Jenkins with the local police department. We’ve received a complaint about you being a raging bitch. We got a warrant for your arrest.”

The sound of Lauren’s confused, half-asleep voice on the other end made Sevika snort with laughter. “(Y/N)…I’m not about to play wit��”

By the time you hung up, both of you were doubled over, Sevika clutching her sides.

As the dares and truths became bolder, the atmosphere started to shift. You dared Sevika to share her type, and her answer—“someone bold, someone who doesn’t back down”—came with a pointed look that left your cheeks warm.

“I’m not gonna lie…sounds like you’re describing yourself,” you teased, earning a low chuckle from her.

“Maybe I am,” she admitted, her gaze steady, almost daring you to break eye contact.

When your turn came, you chose dare, feeling emboldened by the whiskey warming your veins.

Sevika leaned forward, a lazy smirk spreading across her lips. “I dare you to sit on my lap.”

Your breath hitched, your cheeks heating, but you weren’t about to back down. “Fine,” you said, standing and walking toward her with as much confidence as you could muster.

Lowering yourself onto her lap, you felt her hands rest lightly on your waist. Her touch was casual, yet it sent a shiver up your spine.

“Comfortable?” she asked, her voice low, her breath warm against your ear.

You cleared your throat, trying to ignore the way your heart raced. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” she replied, her eyes never leaving yours.

You leaned in closer, your faces inches apart, your lips hovering just shy of hers. “I dare you to kiss me.”

Sevika didn’t hesitate. Her hands tightened on your waist as she closed the gap between you, her lips capturing yours in a kiss that was anything but hesitant. Her movements were deliberate, her lips soft but insistent, making your pulse race.

The kiss deepened, her tongue brushing against yours with a confidence that left you breathless. Her hands slid under your shirt, her fingertips grazing your bare skin, sending a thrill through you.

Your fingers tangled in her hair, tugging lightly as her lips trailed from your mouth to your jaw and then to your neck, leaving a heated path of kisses that made you arch into her. She gave you one last kiss on your collarbone before finding your lips again.

Her mechanical hand slid lower, gripping your ass firmly as she shifted you on her lap, pulling you even more against her. The other hand, far from idle, slid under your shirt. Her fingers, rough yet somehow gentle, brushed over your bare skin, grazing your ribcage, going under your bra before boldly cupping your breast. Her thumb flicked over your nipple, sending a jolt of heat straight through your body.

You gasped against her mouth, your hands tangling more in her hair as the kiss deepened. Her tongue swept into your mouth, teasing and dominating in equal measure, leaving you completely breathless. You arched into her touch, your body responding to her as if it had been waiting for this moment. She pulled away and found your neck again, this time leaving love bites.

“Sevika,” you moaned breathlessly, barely managing her name as her teeth grazed your skin.

“Shh,” she murmured against your neck, her lips returning to yours in a kiss that made you forget everything—until the door swung open with a loud creak.

“Are you fucking serious?”

Caitlyn’s voice was sharp, cutting through the haze like a bucket of cold water.

You scrambled off Sevika’s lap, your shirt hastily tugged back into place as you turned to see Caitlyn standing in the doorway, her arms crossed and her expression a mix of disbelief and exasperation. You were immediately sobered up.

Sevika, by contrast, remained unbothered, lounging back in her chair with her usual smirk firmly intact. “We were bonding,” she said lazily, her tone dripping with amusement.

Caitlyn raised an eyebrow, setting her bag on the table. “If this is bonding, I’d hate to see what happens when you two don’t get along.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “This is all your fault,” you muttered toward Sevika.

Sevika chuckled, leaning closer to you, her voice low and teasing. “Didn’t hear you complaining.”

You shot her a glare, though the small smile tugging at your lips betrayed your annoyance. Caitlyn shook her head, muttering something about “never getting a break” as she climbed into her bed.

You grabbed Sevika by her arm, pulling her out of the chair and pushed her towards the door. “It’s time for you to go, Sev,” you said.

“Awe, but we were having so much fun,” she teased turning towards you, getting closer along with her face.

You immediately stopped her, putting a hand on your chest. “To be continued…maybe,” you said as you opened the door, gesturing for her to leave.

“I’ll take your word on that,” she added in quickly before leaving.

You climbed into bed beside Caitlyn, still feeling the heat of embarrassment from earlier. As you pulled the covers over yourself, you glanced at her. “Are you mad at me?” you asked softly.

Caitlyn let out a long groan, turning her head to look at you. “No. I mean… at least you’re standing by what you said last night.”

Her words made your stomach drop. “Oh, shit,” you muttered, sitting up slightly. “I talked about her while I was drunk? What did I even say?”

Caitlyn rolled her eyes, though a small smirk tugged at her lips. “Something about her being annoyingly hot and how you wanted to fuck her so bad. Seems like you were in the process of it.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands, but Caitlyn wasn’t done. Her eyes zeroed in on your neck, and her smirk widened. “Speaking of… how long were you two going at it? You’ve got two huge hickeys on your neck.”

Your eyes snapped open, and you sat up abruptly. “What?!” You scrambled for your phone, turning on the front camera to inspect the damage.

Sure enough, there they were—two dark, unmistakable marks standing out against your skin. “Jesus,” you muttered in disbelief, your fingers brushing over the spots as if that would make them disappear.

Caitlyn chuckled, leaning back against the headboard. “You’re lucky I’m too tired to lecture you about keeping things professional. But just so you know, I’m giving you side-eye for the rest of the trip.”

You flopped back onto your pillow, staring at the ceiling. “This can’t get any worse,” you muttered.

Caitlyn shot you a look. “Don’t jinx it.”

taglist : @whatlefoop @nonexistentsourcherry @graciebloom @swordfemm4 @m00npjm @sevikasleftarm @fayecreates @mulan-but-gay @inlovewithsevikaandambessa @sapphiellar @artfairyyyyy

[trixter-god]

Just for shits and giggles here’s a very old self insert fanfic i wrote in high school instead of doing my homework.

It’s in first person (I know I’m sorry) and I don’t think the “main characters” name is ever actually said… lmao.

Richard Grayson X random female (me duh) Jason’s also makes an appearance <3

It’s very short so if you’re bored give it a look.

The moon was full, the night was loud and my head was pounding. Being hung upside down is not the best way to spend your Friday nights. I look to the fight below me. Nightwing and the Redhood were back to back fighting off the goons. Pretty much owning them actually. Batman raced off about 10 minutes ago after the joker to who knows where.

“Hey boys, as much as I like hanging out, My leg is starting to fall asleep'' I yelled. Nightwing and Red Hood both looked over to my detection then to each other. Redhood kicked a goon into another before racing his way to me. Throwing something in my detection. I close my eyes knowing what’s coming. A small snap and I’m falling. My head stops protesting as I feel myself rush to the ground. Holding a scream, two fit arms brace my fall. My head pulses in shock and the pounding seems harder. “Are you alright?” nightwing says, rushing next to hood. The goons laid in piles on the floor. I give him a glare while I’m lower on my feet. “Besides my head wanting to come off my shoulders and the fact that I can barely feel my legs, I'm fine.” My words were then, like always, used against me as an unknown pain shot through my leg. My leg gives out, sending me back into red hood arms. Gently I try to stand only for the pain to return.

“Okay maybe not” Red Hood transfers me into Nightwings arms, most of my weight lying now on my right foot and nightwing.

“Hanging upside down probably pulled your ankle out of socket” Red Hood grumbles in agreement as he takes his time detangling me from the rope while nightwing keeps me grounded. I rested my head on his shoulder. The dizziness of being upside down for that long was finally catching up with me.

“Go for nightwing” His right hand came up to meet his ear. I could tell he was keeping his voice light to not cause me any more pain. Hood Finnish off the ropes now using them to tie up some of the forgotten guards.

“She’s safe and sound” Nightwing hummed effectively.

I shifted my weight seeing if I could stand my own. Another sharp pain runs up my leg. Deciding that was not going to happen I relaxed in defeat. Resting my head in the crook of his neck I closed my eyes not realizing how tired I truly was. Must have been the adrenaline. Nightwing continues to replay what I had witnessed upside down over to I assume Batman. His voice was light and clam but I could hear his heart betting a mile a minute.

“We’re on it,” dick said after a good pause. “ you wake down there” he quips as he pulls me up bridal style. He smelt like sweat, kevlar and Vanilla. “No” I half mumbled, wrapping my hands around his neck. “We’ll let you rest when you get to the hospital” nightwing informed. I rolled my eyes playing with the zipper on the back of his collar. “Let’s move,” Hood said at the door nightwing did like he was told to and raced after Red Hood. I was given the civilian runaround answering random questions they asked until I was reluctantly placed on a stretcher and loaded into the ambulance. Nightwing gave one last wave to me before the doors were shut, leaving me in professional hands. Doctors spoke and prodded my body to check for concussions or breaks. I answered the same basic questions as before as I drifted off the sleep with the permission of the EMT.

I woke to the sound of solf beeping and the hard kick of an air conditioner starting up. Slowly opening my eyes. I let myself process where I was. It was dark in the room, the only light coming from a lamp over in the corner. Walls were a sickly white with a matching ceiling. It smelled of cotton and lemon cleaner, Gotham General Hospital. My eyes adjusted to the little light enough to read the bright red clock numbers from across the room. It was almost 5 in the morning meaning I had been out for at least four hours grimacing at the thought of how long I have been here for I rubbed my eyes now, aware of the weight that is pinning my right hand down.

Dark hair seemed to disappear into the shadows of my blanket as an unseen hand held my own. I wondered lightly how it would have looked to the EMTs that brought me in to have seen Dick Grayson racing through the door. lightly wiggling my captured fingers was just enough to stir the oldest Wayne as he turned his head to smile up at me.

“Hey.” His voice is a little raspy from sleep.

“Hey.” I repeated back to him with a smile.

His tawny skin seemed to glow in the darkness as it did in the city lights.

[alphacrone]

me: i could totally be a hunter in the leftist queer commune i’d be so great at it

me as a teenager: nearly threw up catching one fish and releasing it

[ervotica]

you’re an angel, i’m a dog — a.donaldson

pairing; older!art donaldson x fem!reader

warnings; roughly written, badly edited, not beta’d (because when is it ever?), allusions to smut, implied age gap (reader is early 20s, art is early 30s), slight tashi x fem!reader if you squint, infidelity (but tashi is kinda cool with it), just some thoughts about older!art and his pretty girl

a/n; this concept has been eating at me for daysss so i had to write it at least roughly! should we make this a series? (maybe get patrick involved?🫢) let me know what you think! ART & CHALLENGERS (poly!art & patrick) REQUESTS ARE OPEN! any questions / conversation starters about this particular au are highly appreciated and encouraged!! please come to my inbox 📥 <3

older!art is fucking obsessed with you— you, who comes to every one of his matches, who sits next to his wife in those adorable little tennis skirts you sport just for him, who whoops and cheers from the stands whether he wins or loses.

you’re forbidden fruit. so, naturally, he adores you.

tashi knows, because of course she does. she never pries, never so much as spares you a second glance when he wraps his arms around you and buries his face in your neck and huffs hot air against the shell of your ear. she doesn’t care — you’ve made art better at tennis.

his confidence has skyrocketed since having a pretty thing like you cheering him on, his biggest and most enthusiastic supporter. he plays better, he second guesses himself less, he’s more relaxed.

you’re what’s been missing. the last piece of the puzzle.

an obedient little thing, glued to his side, wagging like a dog at his every command.

he fucking loves it. loves having someone relying on him for love and validation. loves the way you preen under his fervent gaze and flutter your lashes at the slightest touch.

when tashi asks you to join art’s team officially, you almost keel over.

“look, i don’t care that he’s fucking you… or that he’s in love with you. he has a shot at the us open this year, and he needs you by his side to do it.” she says. you’re quick to agree, ever obedient and desperate to please.

“he’s in love with me?”

she scoffs. “you’ve seen the way he looks at you. he almost creams his pants every time you’re in the same room as him.” she tilts your chin upwards with a crooked finger, giving your cheek an affectionate - albeit condescending - pat.

“you two can have your fun— but he has to win this year.”

art’s perched against the doorframe when you turn, corded forearms crossed over his chest. you scrunch your nose, pushing back a smile that crinkles at your eyes despite your efforts.

fucking smitten.

tashi rolls her eyes, a half smile tugging at the corner of her lips, and she nudges you towards him.

“go on.”

he opens his arms in greeting and you’re quick to fall into them, your fingers knotting in the shorn hair at his nape. his chest expands beneath your own as he takes a long breath, and he presses his nose to your pulse point, shuddering.

“love you.” he murmurs into your skin.

“love you more.”

he could cry; he doesn’t remember the last time someone told him they loved him and meant it. you’re obsessed with him, almost as much as he is with you.

at his next match, you carry his rackets and send him off with a good luck kiss that has him breathless, grinning as you roll his wad of gum between your teeth that you sucked right from his waiting mouth.

he wins.

how could he not with his pretty girl watching?

and that night, he rewards you with a thorough fucking, whispered love confessions against your lips, and a breathy moan as he cums that you won’t be forgetting anytime soon.

so, yeah. maybe this life isn’t so bad, after all.

[rafesweetie]

⋆˚࿔ espresso ꥟ ˚⋆ — sunny!reader x rafe

“ walked in and dream-came-trued for ya! “

i believe the saying goes, “she was like a shot of espresso.” rafe didn’t think that saying could fit a person more than it could fit you.

he’d see you at parties, dancing with his sister or giggling with the pogues. you never could seem to pick a side. this whole pogue vs kook rivalry never crossed your mind, for you were simply friends with everyone in kildare. he’d see you at the beach with your friends, tanning while listening to silly pop music and sipping on a fruity canned drink. you reminded him of the sun.

there was one night where sarah cameron invited you to her place for a start-of-summer party. rafe was dealing some coke, as per usual, and his eyes followed you as you walked in, holding hands with sarah while she led you inside. he’d never understood why girls held hands with each other, but wheezie said that it’s a universal girl thing, and he ‘would never get it.’

topper elbowed rafe out of his trance, laughing about how rafe had a little crush.

“nah, nah,” rafe denied instantly. “isn’t she a pogue?”

topper shakes his head. “nope. she just hangs out with them. her parents own that flashy smoothie shop, she’s a kook,”

“…oh, that’s good,” rafe mutters. he can’t quite avert his gaze from you.

“aw man, you’re desperate,” kelce is on his other side, patting his back, making rafe grunt and shoo him off. rafe can’t relate to desperation.

his night goes on per usual, getting bundles of cash handed to him as he deals. until topper speaks up after a bit. “she just broke up with pope,” he informs rafe. “she’s on the market,”

“yeah?” rafe checks.

“yeah. you should go talk to her,”

rafe hesitates, staring at you again. you’re not a dancer by any means, but both you and sarah are wiggling your shoulders a bit when a good song comes up. rafe would assume you’re drunk, the way your giggles echo through the room and the way you spill your drink when you stumble into sarah. but he thinks that’s just you, drunk on life. he eventually speaks. “no fucking way, she’s with my sister right now. sarah would lose her shit if i talked to little miss sunshine over there,”

“yeah, well, need i remind you i’m dating sarah, so i’ll just get her away, go make out for a bit, she looks drunk,” topper offers.

“…a’ight. yeah, lets do it bro.” rafe agrees, and they both get up off the couch. rafe stands a little bit away as he grabs another vodka pink lemonade for you, maybe a subtle bribe into talking, and a beer for himself. topper talks to sarah for a bit, greets you, then leads sarah away.

rafe’s literally directly behind you, when suddenly you’re already talking to someone else. you’re pretty chatty, it seems. rafe hangs around to catch you after your next conversation. but then he looks away for one second, then you’re gone again. he spots you on the balcony, with jj maybank. then a couple minutes later, you’re with kie carrera. then you’re shotgunning a drink with sofia. holy shit. you’ve got him wrapped around your finger already, and he looks so cute chasing after you. if he’s not pushy, he’ll never get his chance. so, channeling his inner ward cameron, he spots you with ruthie (who he never would’ve assumed you would associate with. maybe you’re just being polite), and he puts a hand on your shoulder from behind, spinning you around. “y/n. right?”

you blink, not expecting the sudden interruption. but you regain yourself quickly, smiling. “hi! yeah, i am,” you say. your voice sounds as sweet as honey. “you’re rafe cameron?”

you know who he is? he shouldn’t be surprised, you seem to know everyone, but he likes that you know, anyway. “uh, yeah, yeah, that’s me,”

“well it’s so nice to meet you,” you smile up at him. “it’s funny, sofia used to mention you a lot, and obviously im close friends with your sister. but i’ve never met you before,”

“..you’re friends with sofia?” is all he can think to ask.

“mhm. i’ve known her since grade 5. we’re not like, super close now, but we were when you guys dated,” sensing his sudden aversion to talking about her, his ex girlfriend, you shut up. “um, wanna go grab a drink?”

“oh— shit, yeah, um, brought one for you, actually,” he hands you the vodka pink lemonade. “saw you drinking one earlier, so..”

“oh my gosh, thank you so much,” you say. is he that sweet? you guess so.

“yeah, ‘course. heard sarah talk about you, and it’s all been good things, so i figured i’d try and meet you myself,”

“well now you have. i’ve heard her talk about you too,” you don’t have the heart to say it hasn’t been very good things.

it feels like this awkward small talk is going in circles. but maybe that’s a good, slow way to start something.

your name is suddenly called by a group of girls a couple meters away. “it was so nice to meet you rafe. i should go, they want me,” you say softly, reaching for his hands. he remembers when you came in holding sarah’s hands. it seems to be your thing. “i’ll see you around?”

“yeah—“ he clears his throat, gaining the courage to hold yours back. “yeah. see you around, y/n,”

you smile. you could swear he’s blushing. “you’re cute,” you say softly, squeezing his hands once more before retreating away.

he feels like he just took a shot of espresso, and now he’ll be thinking of you every night.

[mywritersmind]

HIDE YOUR NAME NOT YOUR TEAM - LN4

summary : In which a pretty red head catches Lando’s eye one night in mexico, a rude remark and laughable flirting stays on both of their minds. The last thing Lando expects is to see her again in the paddock, while he’s determined to figure her out, she’s determined to hide her name and why she constantly is spotted in orange.

listen up : panic attack, sexual comments, comedy!! lando norris x bosses!daughter.

word count : 5404

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I don’t usually go to these things. But Alexandra convinced me when she said I could borrow her dyson.

“I take it back.” I say as I get my drink, we’re sat at the bar, Charles already gone to find some drivers, “Let’s go back to the hotel! Girls night!” I beg her but she just shakes her head.

“You look too hot for that.” I sigh, I do look hot tonight. I’m in a black mini dress, sheer tights, and knee high boots that are the same shade of burgundy red as my hair.

Just as she says that, Rebecca, Carlos’ girlfriend, comes up to us, “Y/n! You never come out with us!” She hugs me and I smile. I never do but I do like hanging with my girls.

“I had to drag her here!” Alex sips her drink as Rebecca laughs. We’re in Mexico for the grand prix, something I also rarely find myself at.

“Don’t make that face! You deserve a day off.” I sigh, knowing they’re right.

“Alright.” I down the rest of my drink, coughing and turning to the bartender, “Three shots please! Surprise us!”

The girls squeal and as soon as I sit back down, I know it’s gonna be a good night.

I’m multiple drinks in, dancing with my friends, when Carlos and Charles sweep my friends away like it’s nothing.

I scoff, going to walk off the dance floor before a man stops me, “Wanna dance?” I almost laugh when I see who it is. I can tell he sees me thinking about it, “I promise I don’t bite.”

⋆༺

LANDO NORRIS

I noticed her when she was dancing with some guy who was out of his mind wasted. I saw her hair first, a dark cherry red with messy waves.

I don’t know if she’s here with friends but I do know that I want to know more.

She’s staring at me like i’ve just asked her to do a backflip, “Uh… no.” She shakes her head and walks straight past me.

What the fuck?

I haven’t had a girl reject me in a long time, but it’s not unheard of. Still, something about her is telling me to not give up.

“Wait! I’ll buy you a drink!” I hurry after her, she’s flipping her hair over her shoulder and eyeing me, “Please?”

“Please?” She laughs, “You can’t find any other girl besides me?” She hops up onto a bar stool and I lean against the counter, staying close.

“Maybe I don’t want to.” She narrows her eyes at me. “I’m Lando.”

“Yeah, I know.” This surprises me.

“Oh! Well then you know I'm not a creep, so you’ll let me buy you a drink?” She crosses her arms, she seems to be assessing me.

“Fine.” I get her a dirty martini and water for myself. “Thank you.”

“I’ll always be down to buy a pretty girl a drink.” I smile as she sips her drink, “I never caught your name-”

“Mhm…” She looks around the club, obviously not interested in what I have to say.

“Okay, Red.” She doesn’t even flinch at the nickname, “Why are you in Mexico?”

She hums, “Family.” she lets out a long breath.

I frown at her lack of interest, “That’s fun. I’m racing here this weekend.” She doesn’t respond, “Look, I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I promise I'm not like whatever shit magazine you read.”

She looks at me after that and I immediately know I fucked up. Except instead of throwing her drink on me, she just laughs, “God, you’re an asshole.” And with that, she walks away.

⋆༺

YOU

Lando Norris hitting on me was not something I expected from that night.

But it immediately became worse once I remembered why I was in Mexico.

“Sweetheart!” My dad hugs me tight. Zak Brown is a lot of things but a shit dad isn’t one of them. He’s in all orange, contrasting my white dress. I smile as he pulls back, “I’m so happy you’re here!”

I have gone to four grand prix’s in my life. It seems a bit odd for someone who’s father is there almost every weekend, but we had a deal. I was a sort of trouble child, more in my teens when I wanted more freedom. I took some years off of school but I realized what I was wasting and got right back into college.

My dad said I couldn’t come to a grand prix until I finished school. I was annoyed at first, who wouldn’t want to spend their weekends partying with rich people and flying on private jets? But I sort of fell in love with my studies in fashion and had no time anyway.

But I recently graduated and am back in my papaya fathers reach.

“How are you doing? Excited to be back?” I nod as I walk up the paddock with him.

“Very! I’ve missed everything, especially my friends.” He smiles and I’m happy I can make him do that in public.

“I’m so proud. Oh!” I see my nightmare in neon and freeze, “Come meet one of our drivers, he’s a bit like you, I think.” My dad looks back at my frozen position and frowns.

“I forgot I have to grab food with Lily! New friend duties, right! Remember how happy you are that i’m making friends!? Bye!” I turn around and run.

I end up meeting up with Lily because as soon as I heard myself say it, I suddenly really wanted to see her. Lily isn’t new to the paddock, but I’ve only met her a couple times. We follow each other on instagram and have DM’d multiple times.

After our taco and gossip session, practice started and I know I should be watching, but I want to explore more. So instead, I walk around the Paddock alone.

I seriously missed this environment. One of my favorite memories from when I was a kid was my dad walking me around the paddock. I love the hustle and bustle of the paparazzi, fans, and drivers.

I also love the quiet in the paddock while the cars are on track. I make it back inside, finally finding a bathroom and after fixing my hair and makeup, I wander more halls.

I don’t want to admit I'm lost, but I definitely am. I’m about to call Lily and Rebecca but realize I am a strong independent woman! That and I'm a tad embarrassed.

I turn yet another corner and see the worst person for this situation. I realize he hasn’t seen me yet but when I go to turn he eyes me, “Red?” He looks genuinely shocked and I'm even more shocked that he remembers me!

I laugh awkwardly, not knowing what to say. He’s in his race suit, sweaty, and way too good looking with it unzipped. He runs his hand through his curls, has he always been this attractive?

Sorry! Dickhead. I don’t like this man. He’s an asshole.

“What the fuck?” Is all he can say.

“Hey!” I smile, “Thanks for buying me that drink the other night…” When I left him at the bar, I did not think about the whole MY FATHER IS HIS BOSS thing.

“What are you doing here?” I hide my paddock pass behind my back, “Seriously. You’re not some stalker are you?”

I roll my eyes, “No but I am lost.” I can’t ask him to point me to the Mclaren garage because then he’ll ask why so I go for the next best thing, “I’m looking for the ferrari garage!” I need to text Alex right now.

“I’m still confused- you said you were in town for family.” Fuck my life.

“Yeah! Well… Alex is like family to me! And she invited me. Alex as in-“

“Charles’ girlfriend. Yeah I know.” He moves his water bottle from one hand to the other, stepping closer. “But, why would I help you if you think I'm an asshole?”

Okay. Good point.

“Because you think I'm pretty?” I smile and I can tell he’s biting back a laugh. “And because you were being pretty cocky!”

He nods, “Fair enough. Come with me.” I didn’t expect him to give in so easily.

“Hey, why were you in here anyways?” He shrugs and keeps walking for a bit before answering.

“Needed a breather.”

I nod, walking with him in silence, he opens the door for me and the sun hits up straight on. “So… how's the whole driving thing going?”

He glances at me, “It's alright. Quali tomorrow.”

“Good luck. Although I kinda hope you don’t get first.” He raises a brow. “I’m a big Piastri fan.”

He looks genuinely hurt, “I didn’t even think you watched.”

I frown, “Why wouldn’t I? I mean, I'm here.”

“Yeah but you… nevermind.”

I stop, turning to him, “You have to tell me now!”

He grins, looking away and continuing to walk, “You just didn’t have a reaction when I hit on you.” I scoff, “I know, I know! Dickish.”

I can’t help but laugh, “Honestly… fair enough. If I looked like you with the whole famous rich thing. I’d be pulling left and right.”

He eyes me, “So you think i’m attractive.” My face drops and I look ahead, “Hey it’s okay we already know I think you’re hot!” God if my dad ever heard this…

“Just shut up.” He does.

Until he doesn’t, “You really a big Oscar fan?”

I’m happy that I got under his skin with that one, “What if I said I liked Verstappen more?”

“I’d leave your lost ass right here.” Lando says it so serious that all I can do is laugh. He looks proud after I look at him again. “Seriously though.”

“Ferrari girl through and through.” He rolls those gorgeous green eyes of his, “McLaren might be second best though. Plus that Colapinto kid…”

He rolls his eyes, “You can’t like Franco more than me.”

“What, you jealous?” He points to turn and when we do, I see the garages in view.

“Gonna give me your name yet? Or am I sticking to Red?”

I pull his same move and avoid the question, “Thanks for showing me back.”

“Is it bad I like it when you’re mean to me?” I groan and walk away, “Bye, Red!”

“Later, Norris.”

⋆༺

“He doesn’t know who you are!?” Lily and Alexandra scream at the same time, we’re sitting in my hotel room when I called an emergency girls meeting. Except Rebecca is with Carlos to celebrate a little after his pole.

I cover my face with my hands, “But why does it matter!?”

“He’s obviously is hot for you.” Alex shrugs as Lily laughs, rolling onto her back.

“Babe, No wonder he’s so interested in you! I mean- besides the fact that you’re hilarious and drop dead gorgeous- he definitely is intrigued.”

I shake my head, “More like plotting to get me back for calling him an asshole.”

“Wait! You called him an asshole!?” Lily laughs even harder, “I love you!”

“Genuine question though… why don’t you go for it?” I stare at Alex as if she has two heads.

“Go for it!? Lando Norris?” She nods, “No way! Besides the fact that my dad is his boss, he’s way too cocky, and he doesn’t even know my name, I still wouldn’t go for him.”

“That’s kinda part of the appeal.” Alex shrugs, “What!? He knows nothing about you but thinks your hot! Seems like enough to me.”

We end up crying laughing, the conversation straying from Lando and to all the on track drama.

⋆༺

I’ve been avoiding the McLaren garage like the plague. I was there this morning but stayed on Oscar’s side. After meeting him, falling in love with him (platonically of course), and seeing that Lando was completely locked into Qualifying, I took my first breath of calmness.

The boys went out and I popped over to talk to Pato. Quali was over way quicker than I expected, After Oscar’s P17 a weird energy was in the garage and as soon as I saw Lando’s car, I was out of there.

What game am I even playing? Maybe it’s a little hot that he doesn’t know who I am… I don’t know why. Plenty of people have bugged me because of who my dad is, but Lando doesn’t need extra grand prix tickets or me to spot him money.

I find myself in a large room, it’s filled with chairs and a couch facing them. I grin immediately, how the hell is this just open?

I obviously am going to take my chance and pretend to be a talented man! The couch is not as comfortable as I expected and I almost fucking jump off of it when someone walks in.

He's breathing heavily and I recognize something’s wrong immediately. He’s pulling off the velcro of his race suit, unzipping it and pacing. “Lando.”

His head shoots up immediately, just staring at me, “Fuck Red, why are you everywhere?” His breath is labored and shaky.

I stand slowly as he slides down the wall, pulling his knees to his chest and leaning his head back. I’m confused because he seemed fine twenty minutes ago. P3 was not bad especially for where they are right now.

I start to say something but he just shakes his head, “I can’t.” He points to his throat and I realize he can’t breathe.

“I like your hair.” I say quickly, he looks so shocked when he looks up at me, “You look really good with it.” He keeps breathing heavily.

“Huh?”

“Although, you should ditch that fuck ass hat.” He tries to laugh but he’s still struggling. I slowly sit in front of him, “Seriously, who told you to wear that?”

“I- I have to.”

I roll my eyes but my hands are shaking. I’m not a stranger to a panic attack and seeing it happen to someone in front of me is a little scary, “Free will? I mean we all know you have it with the amount of times you whip out your middle finger.”

He laughs again, breathy, but his breathing seems to be getting slower.

“You definitely have free will.” he chokes out, “Saw you- today. Flirting with Lewis.” He got me there.

“Okay! Have you seen him? Who wouldn’t!?”

He shakes his head, “He’s way older.”

“Some people might find that hot.” He side eyes me, “Don’t worry I'm still into guys my own age.”

He’s smiling, nodding. We stay silent for a moment, his head resting against his knees as he catches his breath. He finally slides his legs out in front of him and I scoot next to him.

I tap my neck to ask for permission and he understands immediately, nodding. My hand slips to his neck, feeling his pulse.

“I used to have panic attacks a lot last year.” I explain as I feel his heart underneath my touch. He doesn’t say anything, just looking into my eyes. I swallow, “Your heart is going crazy.”

He doesn’t miss a beat, “Yeah I don’t think that’s because of the panic attack.”

I give him a look, “Seriously? Even in distress you’re a flirt.”

He licks his lips, “You’re good at calming people.”

“All I did was talk, not that hard.” My hand is still on his neck. “Are you okay?”

He swallows, looking away just as I drop my hand back to my side, “Mhm. Thank you.” His hand goes to mine as if it’s nothing. I’m shaking. He rests his head against the wall, closing his eyes, and squeezing my hand. “I think I owe you another drink, Red.”

⋆༺

It’s not until after more press and the conference is over, when Lando finds me again.

“Let me buy you dinner.” I raise a brow, “Come on, as a thank you.”

“You already said thank you.” I sip my water as he frowns. He’s out of his race suit and into jeans and a McLaren shirt.

“Just let me take you out.”

“Are you feeling okay?” I reach up and press the back of my hand to his forehead, “Oh no! Seems like you have a case of aiming high.” He mocks me as I cross my arms.

“Red, If you’re that high, I'll take my McLaren rocket ship and meet you.” I laugh at his words.

“A bit late on the whole rocket ship thing.” He sighs.

“We’ll have fun. Please. Why not?” He goes through five emotions in two seconds.

“You’re sinister, evil, and orange.” My eyes stray who who’s also orange and walking quickly up to us, “Shit.” I don’t mean to say it out loud.

Lando turns around quickly, then back to me, “Don’t tell me you’re scared of Zak. I’ll introduce you-”

“No! I’m not! I gotta go!”

“Wha- Red!” I walk away so fast that I don’t see the man rounding the corner.

“Y/n?” Oscar looks at me confused, “Alright?”

“Hi!” I quickly move past him but he follows.

“What’s wrong?”

“Lando is trying to introduce me to Zak Brown.” I say simply as we turn another corner and Oscar frowns.

“Zak Brown as in your dad Zak Brown?” I look at him, nodding. Then he laughs, “He doesn’t know who you are?”

“Nope. Sort of a long story but I'm in too deep now.” I cross my arms and he starts laughing harder.

“I’m completely here for this- Just one question though… how the fuck does he not know who you are? You’ve been in the garage.”

“He’s blind and I'm a mastermind?” I shrug and of course, Lando finds us.

“Red! No!” He groans when he sees Oscar, “Osc, Don’t convert her into a you fan i’m trying so hard to get her to like me!” Oscar laughs harder, covering his mouth and looking at me.

“I don’t need to be converted! I’m already an Oscar fan!” Lando frowns as I shake my head.

“Don’t worry mate, everyone’s an Oscar fan.” He pats Lando on the shoulder before leaving. “See ya…” I can tell he’s about to say my name but he stops himself.

Lando narrows his eyes at me, “He knows your name?” I bite my lip and walk away. “Hey wait! Any thoughts about tonight?”

I glance back at him, “Don’t you have a race to be preparing for?”

He smirks, catching up to me, “Wanna know my pre race ritual?” I push him away from me, “I’ll give you a hint.” He winks and my stomach does a weird flip.

“You’re never gonna stop, are you?” I place my hands on my hips, looking up at the man.

“Tell me to, and I will.” I stay quiet, his eyes meeting mine and the corner of his lip quirking up. Someone calls his name but his eyes stay on me, smiling. He leans down and taps his knuckles against his hand, “Bye, Red.”

⋆༺

Although Lando has been running around my head, I still have other duties besides being flirted with. I’m at dinner with my dad, it’s been a while since it’s been just the two of us. And I will say, I missed it.

He’s busy and obviously distracted but i’m grateful for any time I get with him. We’re in the Paddock but everybody is gone except for a few engineers and workers.

“Tell me about your weekend! I haven’t seen you much in the garage.” He takes a bite out of his salad, looking down at his texts.

“I’ve been around.” I shrug, drinking my lemonade, “It’s good to be back. But I have been sneaking off with my friends a bit…”

He smiles, “I’m glad. Even if you aren’t cheering us on.” I laugh, “You will be watching from the garage tomorrow, though.”

I nod, “Yes yes, I know.”

We get into a conversation about the issues with my apartment and how he thinks I should move back home. I get the feeling that he’s worried about tomorrow and suddenly wonder if he’s like this every weekend.

My dad gets a call which ends our dinner early, “I gotta grab my bag then I'll head to the hotel.” I kiss him on the cheek and make my way to the garage.

There’s a few people hanging back, some looking at screens and someone laying on the floor, looking at Lando’s back wing.

I grab my purse, rummaging around in it to make sure my phone is there. “You sure you’re not stalking me, Red?” That damn voice makes me jump.

He's sitting on the floor next to his own car, his arms and black shirt dirty. Was he… fixing his car?

I raise a brow, “What are you doing?” He takes the rag next to him and wipes off his hands, standing up.

“What are you doing?”

I cross my arms, “Stealing information for ferrari.” He smirks, shaking his head and walking past me to grab his water.

“Instead of having dinner with me? You need to sort your priorities out.”

I flip my hair over my shoulder, “Do you work on your own car often?”

“I can’t do much but I do like to see how it looks.” He shrugs, leaning against the wall and glancing at the people working, “You seriously not gonna tell me who you know at McLaren? You obviously have an in.”

He waves to the people who are packing up and walking out. We are now alone.

I hum, knowing there’s no chance I'm about to tell him who my ‘in’ is. He laughs a bit, “Alright, stay mysterious. Wanna sit in it?” I almost think I didn’t hear him correctly.

“What?” He nods, standing and walking over to his car, “Come on, don’t tell me you’ve already driven one or something.”

I smile, shaking my head and walking towards him, “No. I used to kart but I’m actually shit at it.” He laughs, beckoning me closer. “Won’t you get in trouble for this?”

He brings his finger to his lips, shushing me as I stand in front of him, “Okay put your foot here,” he points, “And hold onto this.” He points again and I do as I'm told.

I hate to admit it, but I am quite clumsy. When I slip a bit, his hands go to catch me instantly. Thank you driver reaction practice.

He lifts me down into the seat, his hands regretfully leaving me. I look up at him, “For once, you look tall.” His smile drops, leaning over me.

“You’re one to talk.” He scoffs and starts pointing at things. I try to listen but his hand is right in front of my face and I’m genuinely surprised how much I don’t know.

“You’re so far down.” I hum, holding my hands out as if I'm driving, “My back already hurts.” He smiles and kneels next to me.

“You look good in here. Seems like a complete hazard though, even if the car isn’t on.” I tilt my head up to look at him. A curl is falling perfectly in his face. “I didn’t wear the hat as much today, what’d you think?”

I smile at the fact that he listened to my bullshit, “How are you, by the way?”

He nods, avoiding my eyes and messing around with something on the car, “Fine.”

“So the whole panic attack thing was just for fun?” He eyes me, biting his lip.

“Thank you again, It was kinda embarrassing but you made me feel better.” I chew the inside of my cheek, smiling softly at his expression. He looks tired, but a big step up from earlier.

I’ve seen Lando a million times. He’s on posters, all over my feed, in my dads photo dumps, billboards, ads… But none of that can compare to the real thing.

He shoots up so fast that I’m about to laugh and ask what he’s doing, but he starts talking to someone. “Lando!” It’s my dad. Alarm bells ring in my ears as my hand goes over my mouth. Okay. He can’t see me, I know that at least. “I thought you’d already left!”

Lando laughs awkwardly, I think he’s standing in front of the car now. “Uh! Wanted to make sure everything’s good with the car. Guess I lost track of time.”

I hear my dad laugh, rummaging around, “Get some sleep, kid.” I think we’re in the clear until I hear sneakers squeaking, “You haven’t seen a girl come in here, have you?”

My heart rate skyrockets as Lando clears his throat, “Nope. But I've been pretty distracted with the car.”

“Alright well… I have someone to introduce you to tomorrow! Get some rest and drink water!” The door shuts and I hear Lando sigh heavily.

I stand up and messily get out of the car, “I thought for sure I was dead!” Lando says, running a hand through his hair and shivering, “Sorry about that.”

“No worries! I don’t want to get you in trouble though so I should go…” He nods, looking a bit disappointed.

“Want me to walk you out?” I can’t help but smile softly at the soft way he says it.

“I know my way, Thanks though.” I grab my bag, thanking god my dad didn’t see it before, “Rest up.” I mock my dad as Lando chuckles.

“With you on my mind, that’ll be difficult.” I pretend like my cheeks aren’t on fire and open the door.

“Dream about me, then.”

⋆༺

The party environment of the Mexican Grand Prix is all I needed today. I’m in a white dress with marigolds embroidered at the bottom, a flower in my hand from one of the people who are painted.

I laugh with Rebecca and Alex as we walk through the paddock, their boyfriends already getting ready for the drivers parade.

I haven’t told them about last night. I mean, what is there to tell? I swipe my lipgloss on, checking my makeup in the reflection of Rebecca’s glasses.

“Is Carlos nervous for today?” I ask her as she smiles at his name.

“I think so, but I’m really hopeful for a good result.” we continue walking, “Hopefully I don’t jinx it.”

“Hey, Y/n.” Alex nudges me, “Someone just arrived.” She winks as we all turn to look at the Paddock entrance behind us.

Lando Norris.

He’s wearing a Quadrant crewneck and a big smile. He signs something for a tiny fan and hurry’s past the photographers.

He almost walks past us, but he does a double take. He looks happy, I’m glad. “Rebecca, Alex.” He doesn’t stop walking as he politely greets them. His eyes meet mine and his expression changes, “Hey, Red.”

I smile softly before he turns and practically runs away, “Yup! He’s in love.”

I swat Rebecca’s arm as she laughs, “Goodbye!”

“No!” Alex laughs, “Come get coffee!”

I shake my head, “I told Pato I would grab breakfast with him, I’ll see you later!”

I smile at the two of them as they wave and we split up, me going to McLaren and them to Ferrari.

⋆༺

Breakfast is good, we watch the drivers go around and laugh at George who is shivering like a leaf. I say goodbye to him as soon as the drivers parade ends.

I need to see my dad before the craziness begins. “Dad!” I smile as he sits on the pit wall.

“Sweetie!” He smiles and waves me over, letting me sit with him.

“Ready for today?” I ask as he looks over data.

He nods, “Definitely!” He crosses his fingers and I smile, looking over the data with him. He knows I have no clue what we’re looking at so he explains it to me.

I lean in to look at the tiny words when my dad gets distracted, “Oh!” I hear him say but i’m trying to decipher this code still, “I have someone for you to meet!” I’ve met a million different people this week so I smile and stick out my hand like usual, “Lando! This is my daughter Y/n.”

I stare at him. His smile drops for a second, then a look of panic washes over him before he takes a breath and shakes my hand.

“Nice to meet you.” I almost whisper it. He’s looking at me and I feel like I'm about to get swallowed whole.

His face contorts again, he looks like he’s finally cracked me, “Pleasure” My dad looks away and Lando takes that second to narrow his eyes, a smirk still on his face.

I drop his hand as my dad looks at us again, “I think Y/n has been avoiding the garage! I would have introduced you days ago!”

Lando’s jaw ticks, “Not a McLaren girl?”

I can’t help but smile, “Ferrari through and through.”

My dad shakes his head, “Don’t mind her odd preferences…” he’s about to say something else but gets pulled away by someone in orange.

Lando just looks at me, my cheeks hot as he examines me. I expect him to be mad, but he just smiles, “Y/n, huh?” I nod shyly, “It’s pretty. It fits you.”

“Okay! Lan you gotta go!” My dad claps a hand on his shoulder, dragging him away.

“Good luck!” I say quickly as he shoots me a devious look. I take a breath I didn’t know I was holding in, and watch him leave.

⋆༺

The race has me on the edge of my seat for all 71 laps. I accidentally gasp way too loud at Lando being pushed off track and maybe start clapping when it’s announced that Max got two penalties.

The whole time I have a feeling that Lando will be on that podium, but definitely not in third.

My manifestation comes true when Charles goes off track and Lando zooms by.

Ten laps to go and I don’t think I've taken a deep breath in twenty. But the moment Lando passes the finish line, the garage claps and I sigh in relief.

I hug my dad but I watch the podium ceremony from the side, smiling as the boys get sprayed with champagne while laughing.

I see Rebecca with tears in her eyes and when I look back to the podium, I see Lando looking at me. He's grinning, holding his bottle of champagne and pouring it into his mouth before winking at me.

If he’s still acting like this after he found out my dad is his boss, then I am unexplainably screwed. And I couldn’t be happier about it.

After the podium, I walk back to the garage, but Lando catches me first, pulling me into a hidden area. He’s soaked in champagne and grinning like an idiot, “Have fun out there?” I ask, crossing my arms.

He nods, “Think i’m cool yet?”

“A bit… maybe when I watch you win.” His smile grows, his chest rising and falling quickly.

“Go out with me.” I laugh at his words, “For real this time! Y/n.” He says my name like a prayer and I never want it to stop.

“I guess I sort of owe you.”

He nods enthusiastically, “Y/n Brown. What a name… I knew you had an in!”

I shake my head, “I’m sorry. But it was fun messing with you.”

He sighs in defeat, “I feel much better that I know who you are. Although I almost passed out when the words ‘daughter’ left Zak’s mouth!” I laugh with him, champagne dripping down his curls still.

“You did really well today.”

He bites his lip, “Think of how much better I'll do knowing you’re screaming my name in the garage.” I swat his arm but he swerves and plants a kiss on my cheek.

My jaw drops as he pulls back, “I’ll pick you up tonight!” he starts walking away, backwards, “I’ll text you!”

“You don’t even have my number!” I yell after him but he just winks and blows me a kiss. Just as I turn back around and roll my eyes, I see my dad in front of me, arms crossed as my eyes go wide.

He sighs, looking like he already has a headache, “What the hell did I miss?”

[luveline]

I love ur writing 💕 can I request something where reader is dense sortof/has low self esteem, so she likes hotch, admires him and would love to date him but can't imagine he would view her that way,, so he has to be really obvious with his advances? Not self indulgent at all 👉👈 no worries if not. Love u!

Hotch has to break the news that he’s been pursuing you. fem, 2k

Hotch would like to call you unassuming in the kindest way possible. Unassuming, in that not everyone who looks at you would find themselves immediately aware of your beauty (an old-fashioned way to put it, and true), because your poor self esteem leaves you shy. 

You don't believe anyone would want you. It doesn’t matter to Hotch beyond a weary heartbreak for you, as he doesn���t mind if it takes time to convince you. He only wishes you’d have more confidence. You’re pretty and you deserve to know it. 

“Hello,” he says, with intent to try again. 

You like him. He’s a grown man and a good judge of character, better of action, and he’d like to think that your sudden grimace whenever he speaks is again this cloud of insecurity rather than a true dislike for him. You have to warm up to him every day, but you do warm. 

“Hi, Hotch.” 

And listen, he’s not one to flirt at work, but if he ever wants a real shot with you, he has to be heavy-handed. “Hi,” he repeats, smiling, “how are things today?” 

You’re assistant office administrator for the BAU, and so Hotch isn’t technically your boss, but you do work beneath him. “Things are the same as always.” 

“Not too hard for you, then.” 

You catch his teasing, which is a new development. “Not too hard for me,” you say.

He doesn’t pretend he has reason to hang around. He thinks it might’ve contributed to you not believing he’s interested; he’d drop by with coffee because you seemed tired, or checked in on issues that didn’t need his supervision, and you’d taken every extra minute spent at your door as his attentiveness to his job, rather than an affection for you.

He stands with his hand on the doorway and just looks at you. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“You look beautiful today.” 

You touch the button at your neck. “It’s too much for work.” 

“No.” You’re wearing normal business casual clothing. You’ve pulled a necklace over your sweater, soft collar of a shirt kissing your throat. He imagines you’re wearing regular pants and flats or maybe a skirt and short heels beneath the desk, it doesn’t matter. “It’s not just what you’re wearing. You look pretty.” 

You could catch flame if something sparked near you. Lost, your lips part, and eventually you squeeze out a timid, “Thank you, Hotch.” 

 ��Aaron.” 

“I don’t think so.” 

“Can we get coffee?” He dislikes the panic in your eyes and regrets how casual he sounded. “Can I get you a coffee?” 

“I’m okay.” 

“Well, maybe we can take lunch together?” 

“Have I done something?” 

“Have you?” he asks. 

He feels… young. Haley was the only woman he’d been with at a time, and casually there have been others now, but you’re the first woman he’s attempted to woo like this. He sometimes forgets that you’re shy and that he’s been married, distracted by his fizzing, almost joyful feelings for you. Flirting with you is a pleasure. 

You lick your lips quickly. “Where did you want to go? For lunch?” 

He was thinking you could bring your sandwich to his desk, but what you’re asking is a thousand times better. “Where do you want to go? Melanie’s?” he suggests. 

You breathe out in a strange laugh. “For lunch?” 

No, perhaps not. It’s rather fancy. “Somewhere nice, at least,” he says. 

“I don’t know where’s nice.” 

“Well, we can find somewhere. I’ll try to find somewhere before one, what do you think?” 

“Okay.” 

He smiles. “Okay.” 

He’s pulling away from the doorway when you stand up from your rolling chair and say his name, a near yelp, “Hotch! Wait, uh, wait a second.” 

He immediately turns back. “What?” he asks, giving you a quick once over. 

“Are you sure I’m not in trouble for something?” you ask. To your credit, you give a bashful little laugh. “I feel like I’m walking into a trap.” 

“I have no intentions of trapping you anywhere.” 

“Please don’t fire me at Melanie’s.” 

He smiles at you again and leaves your alcove of the office to head back to his own. Around the desks and the bullpen where his team sit doing their paperwork, up the stairs to the landing. He pauses before he goes inside.

JJ’s standing behind Derek’s desk. They’re chatting, JJ sipping at a mug, a small smile on her lips. Spencer watches her from his own desk. He doesn’t like her anymore to Hotch’s knowledge, but it doesn’t stop him from smiling at her with that slight thread of lovelorn shyness when she asks him what he’s so busy doing. 

Hotch has a moment of clarity at his desk when he realises he needs to find somewhere perfect to take you come lunch time. You hadn’t seemed convinced of your job security when he’d left you, and he spends some time pondering how best to accommodate you as he sorts thought Quantico’s best cafes and restaurants. 

He has emails to answer, phone calls to take, and to make. Time moves quickly, and by 1:02 he’s all sorts of late. It’s almost 1:12PM when he’s again at your office door, a warm plastic bag against his side. 

You’re looking at your lap. Coat in your hands, lip nibbled raw, there’s an internal conversation happening that he’s not privy to. He doubts he’d like it very much —the agony of self-doubt is written plainly in your slouch. 

He knocks your door, feeling very sorry for your startled jump. “Hi. Sorry, I’m late, I know. But I thought I’d bring dinner to you.” 

He thought of it like this: if he were to take you to dinner, you could explain it away as a professional superior who was going to fire you and changed his mind, or a superior checking in on his employee, or a superior simply being kind. He has, on occasion, taken different members of his team or office out to discuss things in their lunch hours because he was busy and needed their time at a convenient hour. You might not think anything of it. 

Right now, Hotch really wants you to think something of it. 

“What?” you ask. 

“Is that okay with you, if we stay here?” 

It’s a little much for you, apparently. You finally tip into incredulity. “Aaron, is everything alright? I really don’t understand what’s going on.” 

“I’d like to eat lunch together.”

“But why?” 

“Because you’re good company.” He’s sat knee to knee with serial killers, and his next sentence is still scary, “Because I like you, and I’m not sure how else to show it.” 

You press your coat to your stomach, frowning. “You like me.” 

“I was under the impression that you liked me too,” he says, smiling despite you and himself. Hotch might be a drill sergeant and a bully all those terrible moody stations as a boss, but he’s also just a man, and there’s little room for stoicism in love. 

“But you…” 

He waits, but then feels too sorry for you to let you flounder. “Honey, I don’t know how else to put it. I’ve tried compliments, I brought you that plant,” —he points to the still blooming orchid on your window— “I ask you what your plans are every weekend.” He looks swiftly behind him. Alone, he edges into your office to close the door and allow some privacy. “And every weekend I ask you if you want to get a drink. I’d think you didn’t like me if it weren’t for your tell.” 

“What’s my tell?” 

Your hand. Whenever he’s around, you take something into your hand and squeeze at it or feel it like you’re going to explode with nerves. He saves you the explanation, and instead lays his most gentle look on you. “If I’m wrong, please let me know. I’d never want to put you in an uncomfortable position, but you’re lovely.”

“You’re not making me uncomfortable,” you say, semi-disbelieving. “You never do. I'm just confused.” 

“I’d really like to get to know you as more than a colleague.”

“You know me,” you mumble. 

He does. He knows what your favourite colour is, your favourite food, your soccer team. He sent you flowers on your birthday, asks after your sick neighbour, and checks your office light every night when he goes home, though he knows what time you leave each evening. And he knows that you’re scared to admit to liking him or anyone, because you worry you’re not allowed. 

“I do,” he agrees, giving the plastic bag a jostle. He doesn’t need big answers now. “Can I sit down?” 

You might not have a big answer to give, but your expression tells a story nonetheless. You wheel your seat backward and he pulls a spare chair toward your desk, your smile like an adornment as you push aside your things to make room. You smile so hard it changes your entire face. 

“Do you have napkins?” you ask, not so subtly breathless as he places the bag down and pushes the plastic back. 

He pulls out a wedge of them. You pinch them, and for a second the both of you hold them, your eyes meeting, your cheeks appled with matching smiles. 

“I thought the orchid was for secretary’s day,” you say quietly, taking the napkins. 

“You aren’t a secretary,” he says, holding out a plastic fork. 

When you go to grab it, he moves it up out of the way. Your startled laugh is beautiful. Totally stunning. He hadn’t realised how badly he’d wanted the quiet intimacy of teasing you over lunch until he had it. 

You grab the fork before he can move it again. “Too slow,” you say. 

“Oh, you think so?” he asks. 

“I know so, Aaron. Who has the fork?” 

Aaron, he thinks. Finally, Aaron. “You have the fork, but I have your lunch. I’d tread carefully if I were you.” 

[flickering-chandelier]

Was Any Of It True?

Pairing: badboy!Azriel x goodgirl!Reader

Summary: Modern/College AU! Az’s on-again-off-again girlfriend gives Azriel a proposition: make the new bookworm fall in love with him, then break her heart, in exchange for anything he wants. He agrees, but things get complicated when he falls for Reader for real.

Based on this request! 🩷

✨ Part 2 ✨ Part 3 ✨

Warnings: angst, sexual language?, swearing, Azriel & friends being assholes

Word Count: 10.2k   oh lord sorry besties I couldn’t shut my little brain off

“I'm telling you, Az, she's pissing me off. The professor loves her, and I saw that she got a 100 on the exam,” Claire was seething while she and Azriel lounged in his apartment, eating the pizza he'd ordered.

“Mhmm,” he mumbled around his pizza, only half listening. Claire was always complaining about something. “And what did you get?”

“98! He took two points off because I didn't answer thoroughly enough,” she scoffed. “God, I hate her. She's going to push me right off the top of the Dean's list.”

Azriel blinked. “I mean, you'll still be very near the top of the list.”

Claire groaned, throwing her napkin onto her paper plate angrily, “That's not good enough!”

He rolled his eyes and she glared at him. “Don't be an ass! This is a big deal to me.”

“Oh, I know it is. This girl is all you talk about.”

“Because I hate her. Maybe if she got laid, she’d be distracted enough to slip up once in a while,” she grumbled.

“Yeah, maybe,” Azriel said, pulling his laptop out of his backpack and setting it on the table, a sufficient signal that he didn’t want to talk about his girlfriend’s arch nemesis anymore. 

No more than a week later, Azriel’s on-again-off-again girlfriend was off-again, and honestly, he was relieved. Claire’s obsession with being at the top of the academic food chain was bordering on insanity, and he was glad he didn’t have to hear about it anymore.

He was currently at a house party that Cassian had dragged him to, with a blonde girl that he couldn’t remember the name of sitting in his lap, one of her arms draped behind his neck, the other resting on his chest. She had been whispering in his ear all the things that she wanted to do to him, before Cassian interrupted, handing Azriel a shot with a grin. 

Blondie scowled at Cassian, who just smirked back as the girl that Cass had been talking to earlier sidled up next to him, wrapping her arms around his middle. 

Azriel knocked the shot back and handed the cup it had come in to the blonde girl. “Can you get me another one?”

She seemed annoyed, but took the cup from him anyway, striding into the kitchen. 

“Sorry for interrupting,” Cassian said, settling on the couch next to him, before pulling the girl onto his lap.

Azriel rolled his eyes. “Like I give a shit.”

Cassian snickered as the blonde girl came back, draping herself in his lap again, handing him another shot. He drank it, just as Claire appeared before him, her arms crossed over her chest, and her brow furrowed.

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice husky.

“I have a proposition for you.”

He smirked, making a show of tightening his grip on the blonde girl’s waist. “No, thanks. Been there, done that.”

“Not that kind of proposition, you idiot. Can we talk privately? I think it’ll be worth your while,” she said, her lips turning up into a sultry smile.

“I don’t know, Claire, I’m pretty busy right now,” he said, turning his gaze to the blonde girl, squeezing her thigh. She sighed dreamily, leaning further into him.

Claire groaned. “Look, Az, I really need your help. Please?” 

Azriel studied Claire, and he could see that it was true. She was wearing her most annoyed, don’t-fuck-with-me face, but her eyes were pleading. Sad.

He sighed, glancing apologetically at the girl in his lap before turning back to Claire. “Fine, we can talk.”

She led him into someone’s empty bedroom and shut the door behind her. 

“If this is about that girl you’re obsessed with, so help me,” he said. She winced, and he threw his head back. “Unbelievable. Claire, I don’t want to hear about this anymore! I don’t care about your problems.”

“Just hear me out!”

He crossed his arms over his chest, and raised an eyebrow at her, waiting.

“She actually is threatening my spot on the Dean’s list now,” she said, looking close to tears.

He looked pointedly at her. “And?”

“And I was thinking about what I said earlier… about how if a really hot guy was interested in her, maybe she would stop caring about her grades so much,” she said, smiling at him now.

“And?” Azriel just wished she would get to the point.

Claire sighed, exasperated. “I need you to seduce her.”

Azriel barked out a laugh, leaning his shoulder against the nearest wall. “You’re kidding, right? Why would I do that?”

She stepped closer to him, trailing a finger along his chest, her touch feather-light through his black t-shirt. She looked up at him from beneath her lashes, “Because I asked? Because I’ll give you anything you want,” she said, her voice dropping seductively.

He held her gaze, leaning down until their mouths were a breath away. Azriel heard her breath hitch.

Then he pulled away rapidly, and she blinked. “Sweetheart, you know I can fuck you anytime I want, right? That is not going to persuade me to help you.”

Her brow furrowed, her nose scrunching up. Oh, she was furious. Azriel's mouth turned up into his calculated half smile.

“What do you want, Az?” she huffed.

“Hmm,” he said, taking his time to think. Claire scowled. “I haven’t decided yet. But when I need to call in a favor of my own, you have to promise to do it. No matter what,” he drawled.

To her credit, she really looked like she was thinking it through, trying to think of another way to push this girl off the list. But finally, she sighed. “Deal.”

He pushed off the wall, walking towards the door. “Alright, so I just have to seduce the bookworm? Easy.”

Claire shook her head, her eyes still alight with her anger. “No, if I’m going to agree to any favor you could possibly want, you’re going to have to go further. You need to make her fall in love with you.”

Azriel bristled a bit, leaning against the door now. “I know I’m an asshole, but that seems too far, don’t you think?”

“No. If she’s going to be distracted enough that her grades will slip, you need to make it seem real,” she said, and then smiled as if she had a wicked thought.

“What?” Azriel asked.

“And then you break her heart, right before exams,” she said excitedly, her eyes burning with enthusiasm now. “You tell her, in front of everyone, that it was all fake.”

He rubbed at his bicep, a nervous tic that Claire picked up on immediately. “Jesus, Claire. I don’t want to ruin this girl’s life.”

She arched her brow. “Why not? She’s ruining mine.”

Azriel rolled his eyes and Claire pounced, “Any favor, Az. Any time, you can tell me to do whatever you want,” she smirked. 

He groaned, pinching his nose. “Fine,” he ground out. “Where do I find her?”

Claire beamed. “Where else would a nerd be? The library, of course.”

---

You shifted in your seat, starting to feel sore after poring over your notes for hours. Maybe you should go for a walk. Maybe. But, you still had so much to do…

Groaning, you crossed your arms on the table, laying your head down on top of them. Just a minute, you just needed a tiny break --

“Studying always makes me feel like that, too,” said a low, male voice. 

You lifted your head, bewildered, and nearly choked on your own spit. The guy who was for some reason deigning to talk to you was… well, what other way was there to say it? He was drop-dead gorgeous. 

His face was stoic as he sauntered up to your table, his jet black hair was just a tad unruly, his hazel eyes burning into yours. But it was his body that made the breath completely escape your lungs. He was dressed in all black, his t-shirt hugging his chest and his biceps, showing off his every muscle, and there were swirling black tattoos peeking out from under his sleeves. 

All you could do was stare as he took the seat across from you, leaning back with his arms crossed like the two of you did this every day.

“What class is that for?” he asked, nodding to the textbook open in front of you, the dozens of papers scattered around you.

“Organic Chemistry,” you said, trying to sound like you were normal and not completely surprised by this handsome stranger finding you in your favorite quiet corner of the library.

He let out a low whistle, “Damn, you are smart.”

“What, did someone tell you I was?” you asked. 

“No, I just figured when I saw all the --” he gestured to your cluttered workspace, “homework stuff.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Homework stuff?”

His mouth turned up the slightest bit, holding up his hands like he was surrendering. “You caught me. I’m not much of an academic.”

“Then what are you doing here?” you asked curiously.

“Now, that is an excellent question,” he said, and really did seem like he was questioning it. “Girls? Parties? Though I could get girls anywhere and I don't particularly enjoy parties.”

You nodded. “Ah,” you said. “Got it.”

He braced his arms on the table, leaning forward. “I take it you’re not into that kinda thing?”

A dry laugh escaped from your throat, “Definitely not. I’m really only here for the--” you mimicked his gesture from earlier, “homework stuff.”

He barked out a laugh, his stoic face completely transforming for the briefest of moments. You couldn’t help but stare. “You’re telling me all you do is study? A beautiful girl like you? Please tell me you’ve been to at least one party,” he said, looking at you incredulously. 

You blushed. “No, I haven’t been to any.”

You braced yourself for impact, for the teasing or insults to come, but he just smiled softly. “You wanna go to one with me tonight?”

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. “You don’t even know my name.”

The side of his mouth quirked up into a smile, his eyes dancing with amusement. “What's your name?”

Rolling your eyes, you told him.

“Nice to meet you. I'm Azriel.” He raised his eyebrows, “So? Party?”

“I thought you just said you don't like parties!”

“True, but I do love the thought of corrupting a sweet, innocent bookworm,” he smirked.

“No, thanks.” You couldn't imagine yourself going to a house party, especially not with a stranger.

Azriel's cool-guy demeanor seemed to drop the slightest bit. “Why not?”

You looked at him pointedly. “I don't know you. And I have no interest in being corrupted. Why do you want me to come to this party so badly anyway?”

He shrugged casually. “I like you.”

“You don't know me!”

“See, that, right there,” he snapped his fingers and pointed at you. “You're funny. Smart, beautiful. What's not to like?”

You forced yourself to hold his gaze, even as a blush rose to your cheeks. “I'm not going to a party with someone I don't know. They make true crime documentaries about that sort of thing.”

He seemed to contemplate that for a moment. “Okay, you make a fair point. What do you want to do then?”

“What do you mean?”

“You can pick our first date, since you didn't like my idea.”

“What date?” You blanched.

He arched an eyebrow. “Our first date? Weren't you listening?”

You studied him for a moment. For the life of you, you could not figure out what this guy's angle was. 

As if reading your mind, he said softly, “Look, I just saw you and thought you were really pretty, and that it looked like you could use a break from studying. That's it,” he held his hands up again. “I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. If you want me to go, I'll go.”

For a beat longer, you watched him, his body language, his ridiculously pretty face. What was the harm, really? You sighed, tore off a scrap of paper from your notebook, scribbled out your number, then handed it to him. “I need to study. If you text me later, I'll let you know where we're going on the first date.” 

His face broke out into what might have been the first genuine smile you'd seen from him. He took the paper from you, his fingers brushing against yours.

“Can't wait.”

You were half expecting to never hear from Azriel again. But just a few hours later, as you were eating dinner in your apartment, your phone chimed with a text. 

Az: Done studying yet?

It was an effort to bite down your smile. 

You: Taking a break for dinner. 

It was less than a minute before he responded. 

Az: Dinner? Is that what our first date is going to be?

You didn’t try to hide your smile this time.

You: A little cliche, don’t you think?

Az: Oh, absolutely. So… what are we doing?

You: Meet at the tennis courts at 7 tomorrow?

Az: We’re playing tennis?

You: No, but I’m not giving you my address. And I’m not giving away the surprise.

Az: So smart. So mysterious. I’m swooning.

You: Shut up.

Az: See you tomorrow ;)

You tossed your phone to the side, forcing yourself to focus back on your schoolwork.

The following day you parked your car by the empty tennis courts on campus just before 7. It was early spring; the weather finally started to warm up enough to not be too chilly in the evening. Still, you rubbed your arms nervously. You were starting to regret this. You didn’t know this guy at all. What if it went horribly wrong?

Before you could contemplate bailing, a familiar figure rode up on a jet black motorcycle. Of course this guy had a motorcycle. You couldn't see his face underneath the helmet, but you would already recognize those tattooed arms anywhere. 

He parked his bike, smoothly sliding off it and taking his helmet off before sauntering over to you. “Hey, beautiful.” 

You rolled your eyes, sure that he had said that to a million girls on a million dates before.

“What? Don’t do that,” he said softly, his smile softening and his gaze raking down your body. “You are beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly, giving in. 

“So,” he said, towering over you. “What’s the plan?”

You smiled. “How’s your mini golf game?”

He raised an eyebrow, looking a little skeptical. “Mini golf? That’s what you’re choosing?”

“Yes, it is. Do you have something to say about that?” you teased. 

His eyes sparked at the tone in your voice. “Nope. Nothing at all.” He nodded to his motorcycle. “You wanna hop on the bike?”

You looked pointedly at him and he laughed. “Didn’t think so,” he gestured to your car. “Lead the way.”

Your nerves started to dim as the two of you fell into a rhythm going through the course. The two of you were just talking and laughing like it was normal. It was… fun, actually.

“Shit,” Azriel muttered as he overshot the hole. Again.

You laughed and his eyes flicked over to you, lingering a bit. “You’re good at this, bookworm,” he said as he took another shot, sinking it into the hole this time. You watched, leaning against your putter, having finished that hole two shots ago. 

Shrugging, you said, “I used to go with my family a lot.”

He placed his hand on the small of your back as you walked to the next hole. You cleared your throat, focusing on your steps, on your breathing, on anything but how it felt to have him touch you so casually. “What about you?”

“What about me?” he asked as you dropped your ball onto the green. 

You took your shot before you answered. The ball landed just shy of the hole. “What’s your family like?”

“My family…” he trailed off, clearing his throat, setting up his shot. He paused to look at you for a moment before he swung. “It’s complicated.”

He hit the ball and it stopped right next to yours. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” you said, as the two of you walked further down the hole.

“No, you didn’t. It’s just… I don’t really talk about them with anybody.”

You nodded, not sure where to go from here.

Azriel smiled reassuringly, nudging you lightly with his shoulder. “Stop worrying.”

“I’m not worrying,” you claimed, your voice an octave too high. 

“You are. I can tell.”

You bit your lip to hide your smile as you sunk your ball into the hole.

“I think I’m going to need some pointers from you on the next hole,” he grumbled. 

“I guess I could help you out,” you laughed. 

So, when you got to the next hole, the last hole, he stepped so close that your bodies were nearly touching. You tried to control your breathing. 

“You’re gonna help me out?” he murmured, his eyes flashing down to your lips for a moment. 

“Okay,” you breathed. 

He stepped behind you, his body pressed against your back, wrapping his arms around you, his hands covering yours on the club. 

“How is this going to help you, exactly?” you asked, your voice slightly unsteady. 

His lips brushed your ear as he said, “Oh, trust me, it’s helping.”

You couldn’t say anything. Could hardly breathe.

“What do you think I’m doing wrong?” He murmured. 

You swallowed. “You’re hitting it too hard. Not exactly rocket science.”

“Mmm. That makes sense. I do tend to go… hard.”

That finally had you coming to your senses. You stepped out of his grasp, turning back to glare at him when you were a safe distance away. 

The side of his mouth turned up into a smile. “Sorry. I couldn't help myself.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at him again. “Just take your shot.”

He smirked at you for a moment, before he swung, and the ball went right into the hole. 

He turned to you, his eyes wide. You laughed and he hugged you, picking you up and spinning you around. 

You let out an involuntary squeal of surprise, and he laughed, gazing into your eyes as he set you back on the ground. “Thanks for the help.”

“I think you’ve been playing me this whole time,” you joked. 

His smile fell a little, his eyes sobering. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked. When he just stared at you, his expression unreadable, you added, “Azriel, I was joking.”

He blinked and then his natural, stoic expression was back as he took a step closer to you. “Right. I think you’re just a good teacher.”

You just looked at him, trying to decipher the changes in his mood, who he really was underneath the gruff exterior.

He smiled faintly, stepping even closer. “What are you thinking about?”

You had to crane your neck to look him in the eye now. “I'm trying to figure out what you're thinking about.”

Azriel's smile turned into a smirk. “I'm thinking… that I really want to kiss you. But I don't want to scare you away.”

Heat flooded your face and his smile turned softer as he cupped your cheek gently with a rough hand. “Would it scare you away?” He murmured.

“I -- don't know,” you said honestly.

His hazel eyes dipped to your lips and stayed there. “I think I'm gonna have to take the risk,” he said, his voice low, husky.

“I think so, too,” you breathed.

His free hand slinked around your waist, gently pulling your body into his. Your heart thundered in your chest as he leaned down, slowly bringing his lips to yours. He seemed to give you a moment to process, and you felt him smile against your mouth when you started to kiss him back, your fingers curling around his bicep, his shoulder.

You were breathless by the time he pulled away, and as the two of you drove back to the tennis courts, you couldn't help but hope that it would happen again by the end of the night.

When you parked your car near his motorcycle in the abandoned lot, he lingered, his gaze holding yours, dropping to your mouth again.

He shot you a crooked smile. “Aren't you gonna walk me to my bike?”

Rolling your eyes playfully, you got out of the car, walking over to the motorcycle and settling against the fence near it, crossing your arms over your chest. “Happy now?” You asked.

Slowly, he sauntered over to you, his eyes twinkling under the stars. He raised his arm, twining his fingers in the chain link fence above your head, leaning his body towards you, but not quite touching. He gazed down at you, still sporting that half smile. “Very happy,” he murmured.

Your breath hitched and when his smile widened, you knew he heard it. 

He held your gaze as he leaned down, bringing his mouth to yours again. You let yourself fall deeper into the kiss this time, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into you. 

When he finally pulled away, he was grinning. “Want to go for a ride before you head home?” He said, nodding to his motorcycle.

You had stepped far enough out of your comfort zone for today. “Maybe next time.”

He raised his eyebrows in amusement. “So you're giving me a next time?”

Damn. You blushed. “I said maybe.”

“Uh huh, sure,” he said, leaning in again so his lips were barely an inch from yours. “You can't wait to see me again,” he whispered.

You shoved him away lightly and he chuckled, backing up towards his bike, but keeping his eyes on you. “Until next time, then. Have a good night, bookworm.” He winked before putting his helmet on and speeding away.

A few weeks, a few dates, and several kisses later, you couldn't deny that Azriel was on your mind quite a bit.

You had never thought that someone like him would be interested in someone like you, but he seemed to prove time and time again that he did indeed like you. He texted you flirty little things every day, making you blush in class. He asked about your day, and seemed to genuinely be listening, and he would do pretty much anything you wanted on your dates. Last week, the two of you had gone to a local bookstore and he had watched you browse, a small smile on his face. He ended up picking out a book he wanted you to read and you did the same for him. He had been sending you daily updates on his progress through the book. Slowly, you were starting to let your walls down, despite yourself.

So, when he asked you to finally go to a party with him, to meet his friends, you accepted. You still felt cautious: partying had never been something that you were remotely interested in, but you trusted him.

---

Azriel knew he had to tread this next part carefully. Things had been going well with you. He let you take control of your time together so you would be comfortable, and honestly, he was actually having a really good time getting to know you and seeing where you would take him next.

And when you kissed him… God. It was always a struggle to keep his hands on your waist, to stay PG. He wished he could explore things further with you in that regard, but he wouldn't let himself go there. Not when your broken heart was the finish line.

He rarely let himself think about it -- the deal that he had made with Claire. Being with you felt so natural that he usually forgot he was supposed to be acting. That he was supposed to be leading you to Claire’s revenge.

He had convinced you to come to a party, upon Claire's request so she could see the progress he had made with you. You had said yes, he assumed because you trusted him enough now. The thought made his stomach roll. He was really starting to hate himself for getting mixed up in this.

Azriel acted differently around you than he did around the rest of the general population. At a young age he had learned to keep quiet, to not show a single emotion on his pretty face, to be tough, or be punished. 

With you… he couldn't help but smile. Couldn't stop the laughs that he usually stomped down for the rest of the world.

So, having his two worlds collide at this party…he didn't know exactly how to navigate it. Deep down, it made his heart swell that you trusted him enough to help you navigate something so far out of your comfort zone. But if his friends saw the way he acted around you, he would never hear the end of it.

This would be a mess.

If Azriel wasn't leaning against his motorcycle when you exited your apartment building, he may have fallen over. You were wearing skintight jeans and a black tank top that showed more cleavage than he ever imagined he'd see from you. His fingers flexed on his biceps. He wanted to pull you back into your apartment and spend an hour peeling those clothes away inch by inch.

He blinked the lust away, trying to maintain his stoic expression, but failed, as he always did with you. He smiled at you and you smiled back. 

He could tell by the way you carried yourself as you neared him that you were nervous. “Hey, beautiful,” he drawled his usual greeting as you wrapped your arms around his waist in your usual greeting.

“Hi,” you said, a little sheepishly. His eyes must have lingered on your curves a little too long because your eyes widened a bit, and you bit your lip nervously as you pulled away from him. He nearly groaned. “Is it too much? Do I look stupid?”

Azriel placed his hands on your shoulders gently, dipping his head to look you in the eyes. “You look amazing. Seriously.”

You blushed and murmured, “Thank you.”

He had to turn away, to grab your helmet, so you wouldn't see how much you affected him. He fucking loved it when he made you blush like that. 

Azriel turned back to you, holding up the helmet, his eyebrows raising with amusement. “You ready to join the dark side, bookworm?”

You sighed, shifting on your feet. 

“It'll be okay,” he said softly. “I got you.”

You nodded, seeming to resolve yourself, and reached for the helmet with slightly shaking hands.

He helped you make sure it was on correctly, his fingers brushing your chin, your neck. He bit back a smile as you shivered.

Azriel held your hand as you got settled on the back of the bike, showing you where to put your feet, and how to shift your weight with him.

When you seemed at least somewhat comfortable, he slid his helmet on, smoothly setting onto the motorcycle. You wrapped your arms around his middle, pressing your chest into his back. You were already holding him like your life depended on it, and he beamed freely underneath the helmet.

“Hold on tight,” he shot back at you, before he revved the engine, taking off much more gently than he normally would.

He tried not to think about the feel of you pressed into him, how tightly you were holding on. It didn't work. He wanted to drive you everywhere.

He couldn't resist reaching back to briefly squeeze your thigh at a red light. “How are you doing?”

“Good,” you said. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he heard a smile in your voice.

Too soon in Azriel's opinion, they had made it to the party. He parked, offering you his hand to help you get down.

When he pulled the helmet off your head, he was pleased to see that you were indeed smiling.

“Have fun?” He smirked.

“I did, actually,” you said, sounding a little breathless. 

“Whenever you need a ride, you just let me know,” he winked.

You laughed, glancing behind him at the house. 

He took your hand in his, squeezing reassuringly. You seemed to relax a bit. “We can leave whenever you want, okay?”

Taking a deep breath, you nodded and smiled nervously up at him.

You were doing this for him, he realized. Because he had asked you to. His heart constricted, guilt churning in his gut again as he led you inside, your hand squeezing his tightly. 

His shoulders tightened as he led you through the crowd, making sure you were tucked in close to him. 

“You want a drink?” he asked, as you made your way to the kitchen.

“Sure,” you said.

He rifled through what was on the sticky counter, trying to find something not disgusting for you to drink, making sure you stayed close to him. 

Finally handing you a cup, he put your hand on the small of your back, guiding you to a corner of the living room that wasn’t yet very crowded. He took a seat on the couch and you settled in next to him, tucked closely into his side. 

You smiled, leaning your shoulder into his. “Is this really it?” You asked skeptically. “You just sit here and drink around a bunch of drunk idiots?”

He laughed before he could stop himself. “I mean, yeah, that’s pretty much it,” he said, dipping his head to say in your ear. “Or we could dance. Or make out,” he smiled against your ear. 

You blushed and he laughed again, kissing your temple. 

Azriel wrapped an arm around your shoulders as Cassian and Rhys showed up, grinning at you, their eyebrows raised. Azriel fought the urge to roll his eyes. They had seen him laughing with you, kissing you, he knew. He had nearly forgotten where he was, why he was here with you. He loved them, but he wasn’t sure what they would say to you about him. They didn’t know about his arrangement with Claire, and he had been keeping details about his relationship with you as vague as possible.

“So you’re the one Az has been spending all his time with,” Cassian grinned. 

You smiled sheepishly, leaning further into Azriel. “I guess.”

Azriel nodded to his friends. “This is Cassian and Rhysand. They’ve been my best friends since we were kids.”

He could tell you were intrigued by that. He still hadn’t told you anything about his childhood. 

Before you could ask any questions, Claire showed up next to Azriel’s friends, her expression the very picture of friendship. It unsettled him so much that he held you closer to him, so you were practically on his lap. 

“Hi Claire,” you smiled, and his heart sank. You really had no idea how Claire felt about you. 

Claire smiled back. “Hey. I never expected to see you here.”

“I’m trying new things,” you said, smiling lightly at Azriel.

He couldn’t take it, having you so close to Claire, seeing that trust you had in him when you looked at him. He cleared his throat, standing up and offering you his hand. You took it, smiling politely at Claire and his friends as he led you through the house, out to the backyard. 

“Is everything okay?” You asked, looking up at him curiously as he leaned his back against the side of the house.

“Yeah,” he said, unable to stop the smile that rose to his face as you gazed at him with your big doe eyes. He tugged you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I just wanted you to myself for a minute.”

“Oh yeah?” you flushed, and before he could stop himself, he kissed your cheeks, feeling the heat against his lips before his lips met yours in a slow, sensual kiss.

He was still kissing you when he heard Cassian snickering close by. “Oh shit, he’s whipped.”

Azriel rolled his eyes as he pulled away from you, but kept his hold on your waist. “How am I whipped?”

Cassian’s eyes gleamed with mischief and Azriel’s heart started to pound. “Sneaking out here on your own. You’re usually content to stay on the couch to make out with your girl of the week.”

Your body tensed in his arms and Azriel groaned internally, glaring at Cassian, who smirked. “Oh, she didn’t know? My bad, Az.”

Azriel’s expression was enough to send Cassian back inside. 

Your brow furrowed as you stepped back, out of his reach. “Girl of the week?”

He winced. “He’s being dramatic.”

You raised your eyebrows, glaring at him, crossing your arms over your chest. 

It was kind of adorable, but Azriel reigned in that comment. He held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, look. I told you when we met that I go to parties and meet girls there. But things are different now,” he said, taking a step closer to you. And it was true. Things were different. You had been the one haunting his thoughts since that first date. He had barely looked at anyone else since.

After a moment, you sighed, and he knew you wouldn’t resist when he wrapped his arms back around you. 

“Cassian’s an idiot,” he murmured, his focus back on your lips that he was dying to kiss again.

“So I’m not the girl of the week?” you said quietly, your eyes on his lips now. 

He smiled. “We’ve been seeing each other for several weeks, haven’t we?”

You nodded, biting your lip, before you stood up on your tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips. Azriel was surprised by his own relief. “Are we going back inside?” you asked. 

“Not if you don’t want to,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist again. 

Pursing your lips in thought, you said, “Mmm. Let’s go back in.”

“Yeah?” he said, surprised.

You smiled up at him, resting your chin on his chest. His heart melted. “I’m trying to be brave.”

He kissed your forehead, smiling faintly. “I’m proud of you, bookworm.”

You beamed, your whole face lighting up. 

Azriel led you inside, his hand on the small of your back, trying to manage the swell of emotions in his chest. He didn’t have the time to process them right now. 

The two of you mingled throughout the party for a few hours, and you even went so far as to dance with him for a bit, your body pressed against his, your hips swaying to the beat of the pounding music. He could hardly believe it, the way you let loose with him.

He stopped in the bathroom before the two of you left. He wasn’t gone for more than a few minutes, but when he returned, he spotted you near the kitchen, backing away from a guy who was clearly very drunk and very horny. Azriel saw red. 

Before he could take a second to think, Azriel was upon the bastard, punching him in the jaw. 

He heard you yelp. The asshole staggered back, swearing, his hand cradling his jaw. Azriel barely spared him a glance, his hands gently holding either side of your face, his gaze raking your body, searching for any sign that he had touched you. 

Your eyes were wide, your breathing labored, but you seemed physically fine. “Are you okay?” he asked. 

You nodded, your eyes still frantic. 

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders as he led you outside. Claire caught his eye on the way out, hers shining with delight. He scowled at her. 

When you made it outside, he hugged you to his chest. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” 

“I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

You snorted. “You were gone for a few minutes. It’s not your fault that men are gross.”

“Are you okay, really?” He asked, pulling back to look you in the eye.

“I’m okay,” you said quietly. 

He held you close to him, gazing at you for another moment before you smiled faintly. “You really didn’t need to punch him, you know.”

He winced slightly, remembering the yelp you let out when he threw that punch. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you said, rising on your tiptoes to kiss him. 

Azriel held you until his heart rate slowed down, until his body was convinced that you were okay.

Later, after he had dropped you off at your apartment, Azriel stayed awake, tossing and turning, so many images from that night racing through his mind.

The way his heart constricted every time you smiled at him, the horror he felt at seeing Claire play nice, the terror and rage that flowed through his entire body when he saw that creep bothering you…

Azriel knew then, that he had real feelings for you. Shit.

---

“C’mon, baby, you’ve been studying for ages already,” Azriel murmured, standing behind you as you sat at your desk in your apartment, his arms draped around your chest, his lips trailing down your neck.

Your toes curled, heat running right through you. You wanted to give in. You really did. But…

You sighed. “I’m sorry, Az. I have this big exam on Tuesday. And finals are only a few weeks away.”

For some reason, that comment made his entire body stiffen. “Oh, yeah. Finals.”

You snorted. “Don’t tell me you forgot about finals.”

“No, I just… they’re soon.” His voice wavered a bit as he stood up fully. You twisted in your seat to look up at him. His brow was furrowed, his eyes swimming with anxiety. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked, reaching up and cupping his cheek with your hand. “Do you need me to help you study?” He had never seemed to care about his grades before.

He leaned into your touch for a moment, shooting you a forced smile. “No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine. I should go, and let you study.” He stooped down to press a quick kiss to your lips. “I won’t distract you anymore today.” 

Before you could even respond, he was out the door. 

You turned back to your notes, but couldn’t digest any of the information. That was… weird.

Azriel and you had been dating for months now. Though neither of you had ever put a label on it, you both knew you were exclusive. 

In the privacy of your own mind, you secretly loved that he acted so differently around you than he did out and about on campus. You felt like you got a different version of him that was saved especially for you. It made your heart swell, all the little things he did for you each day. 

You were also willing to admit, to yourself only, that you were absolutely in love with him. You had known for weeks now, and had been debating whether or not you should tell him. 

He had been the one that made you step out of your comfort zone, to try new things, to be brave. 

So, soon. You would tell him soon.

--- 

Azriel had to get out of the deal. Now.

He remembered the exact moment that he realized he was in love with you. It was a random afternoon, the two of you were watching TV at his apartment. He was laying on the couch, you were laying on top of him, your legs intertwined with his, your head on his chest. He was absentmindedly running his fingers through your hair while you giggled about something that happened on the show. 

And he had the thought. I want my whole life to look like this. 

And he knew. He loved you.

This had scared him, obviously, on multiple levels. He had never loved anyone before, never knew what that looked like. Yet somehow, he knew without a doubt that it was true. 

And then, of course, there was the deal he had made with the devil. 

He had known early on that he would have to get out of the deal. He had just been putting it off, hoping that Claire’s insanity would die down throughout the semester. 

But now his time was up. 

He prayed to whoever might be listening that Claire would listen to reason. That she would call it off. He couldn’t bear the thought of hurting you. He wouldn’t do it. 

Claire smirked as she opened the door. “I’ve been wondering when you would show up. It’s been a long time, Az,” she purred. 

Azriel stalked into her apartment, barely sparing her a glance. “The deal’s off, Claire.”

She cocked her head to the side, amused. “Oh? Why is that?”

“Because it’s insane,” he growled. “You were insane for coming up with it, and I was insane for agreeing to it. I’m done.”

Slowly, her lips curled up into a lethal smile. “You fell for her.”

Azriel blinked. 

Claire cackled. “Oh, this is rich. You actually fell for the bookworm? I never thought I’d see the day. No wonder you haven’t been crawling into my bed.”

He scowled. “The deal’s off,” he repeated in the tone he used to scare people away.

She really looked at him then, her eyes bearing into his. After a moment, she finally said, “Okay.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Okay? Just like that?”

Claire shrugged. “You were right. It was an insane plan. And it didn’t even work,” she said bitterly. “You suck at your job. She’ll still be on the top of the Dean’s list, even after all your lovey-dovey shit.”

A swell of pride ran through him at the thought of your name at the top of that list.

“Alright,” he said, his brow furrowed, trying to figure out if there was some kind of angle here. But, there didn’t seem to be one. 

He left quickly, his heart and mind feeling lighter. The guilt of how the two of you started would always be there, he knew. But now when he looked into the future, it wasn’t a hazy blur of nothingness that he saw. It was you.

---

The week before finals, there were parties everywhere. So you heard. 

You had gone to a few more with Az over the past few months. It still wasn’t exactly your thing, but you didn’t mind going, especially with Azriel being so attentive to you every time you did. 

Azriel didn’t seem particularly interested in going to this one, but his friends had been complaining that they never saw him anymore, so he agreed to go. And you had agreed to go with him, if only to take a break from your near constant studying these days.

You followed him through the crowd, his hand clasping yours, as always. Drinks in hand, you made your way to the outskirts of a group of people who were dancing and you joined them, Azriel pulling you in close to him, moving against you.

A laugh burst from you, and Azriel grinned, leaning down to kiss you. 

You were so happy, you thought. So happy in that moment with him. You knew people watched you, as they usually did when Azriel was like this with you. You didn’t care.

When he pulled back from the kiss, he gazed down at you, his eyes swimming with affection. 

“I love you,” you said before you could stop it.

His eyes sobered, and he pulled you in even closer, so your bodies were flush together. He leaned his forehead against yours, and in a crowd of people, Azriel said, a soft smile on his face, “I love you, too.”

Your heart leaped and you grinned, threading your fingers in his hair and bringing his lips to yours. 

Suddenly, the music stopped, and from the TV came a voice. Azriel’s voice. 

Everyone turned to the sound, curiously, watching. The video was jumpy, filming the floor, like it was filmed from someone’s pocket. 

Azriel tensed, his arms still around you. “Fuck,” he said. “We need to go.”

Utterly confused, you didn’t argue as he pulled you through the crowd. But you stopped dead in your tracks when you heard video Azriel say, “Sweetheart, you know I can fuck you anytime I want, right? That is not going to persuade me to help you.”

Your blood ran cold, shock jolting from your heart down to your toes. Azriel was tugging on your arm, but you didn’t budge as you heard Claire’s voice next. 

Claire. He had been talking to Claire. What did he mean, that he could fuck her whenever he wanted? You hadn’t even known that they knew each other. When was this filmed?

“Baby, please, I’ll explain everything, but we need to go,” Azriel was saying, sounding frantic. 

You wrenched your arm from his grasp, weaving through the still crowd, moving toward the TV. You heard him swear, calling your name behind you, but you kept moving.

They were saying something about a deal, about him owing her a favor. You couldn’t make sense of it, not until you heard video Azriel say, “Alright, so I just have to seduce the bookworm? Easy.”

Video Claire responded, “No, if I’m going to agree to any favor you could possibly want, you’re going to have to go further. You need to make her fall in love with you.”

It was then that you noticed Claire, next to the TV, her eyes locked on you, smirking. 

You couldn’t breathe, your legs were going to give out -- 

It was all fake. All of it. 

Azriel caught up to you then, picking you up, slinging you over his shoulder. You didn’t protest, the shock setting in. You had to get out of there, even if it was him that carried you out. 

When he made it outside, you pounded on his back with your fists. “Put me down, you asshole!”

“Sorry,” Azriel said, wincing as he gently set you on your feet. “You looked like you were going to pass out.”

“Like you even care,” you spat, storming away from him. 

“Of course I care. Please, just give me a minute to explain,” he pleaded, following you. 

“Explain what?” You stopped abruptly, spinning around to face him. “That you played me for a fool? Made me fall in love with you as a sick joke? Well, congratulations, it worked,” you said, pouring every ounce of venom that you could muster into your voice. You turned back around and continued walking as tears started pricking your eyes. You refused to let him see you cry.

“It may have started out that way, but it’s not like that anymore. From the first date, I had feelings for you. I love you. You have to believe that,” he said, right on your heels. 

You knew he could catch up with you easily if he wanted to. He was hanging back, trying to give you your space. That pissed you off even more. “How could I possibly believe that?” 

“Because you feel it, I know you do,” he said, finally wrapping his fingers around your wrist.

You tugged your hand free, but stopped walking, needing to catch your breath. You faced him. “What was the point?” You asked quietly. “Why make the deal?”

It didn’t matter. But you had to know.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Claire and I used to date. When you transferred, you pushed her off the top spot of the Dean’s list. She hated you for it. She said she would give me any favor I wanted if I made you fall for me… to distract you from school.”

You were so surprised that the tears you had been holding in started to fall. You angrily swatted them away. 

Azriel continued, “I said no at first, but she was persistent, and…” he took a deep breath, darting his eyes away from you for a moment. They were shining with unshed tears. “I have no excuse. I agreed to it. I’m an asshole. But you made me want to be different.”

“Was any of it true?” You heard yourself saying, your voice breaking. 

He lifted his hand, like he was about to reach for yours, then let it drop, thinking better of it. “It was all true. From our first date, you were breaking down my walls, making me smile, making me laugh.” He smiled sadly. “I fell for you. I love you,” he said, and now a lone tear did slide down his cheek. “I called it off with Claire ages ago. I told her I was out, and she agreed. I… I didn’t know she filmed it.”

You wanted to believe him, that he really did love you. But… “Even if you do love me, that doesn’t change what you did,” you said in a small voice. 

Azriel sniffed, wiping the tears off his face. “I know. I am so, so sorry.”

Shaking your head, backing away from him, you choked out, “I don’t -- I can’t. I can’t do this right now.”

He took a step toward you, his eyes pleading. “Please. Please don’t go.”

Turning your back to him, you walked away, barely registering the pavement beneath your feet, the direction you were going. 

Azriel called your name, but you kept walking.

You knew he had followed you home, not letting you walk alone at night. You watched his form retreat after you locked yourself inside your apartment with trembling hands. 

You went to bed, not even bothering to change. Laying on your back, watching your ceiling fan spin around and around, you tried to identify all that you were feeling: shame, humiliation, sorrow. Fury. 

Replaying all that had happened between you, all the times he was probably laughing at you with his friends behind your back. You felt nauseous. 

How could he do this? How could he have played you for so long?

What the hell were you supposed to do now?

You woke up to several missed calls and texts from Azriel, all sent hours apart. It seemed that he didn’t get any sleep at all.

I am so sorry. I’m the worst person in the world. I know that. 

I know what you’re thinking right now. I know that you’re going over it all in your head. But, it was real, baby. It was all real. I swear it was. I love you so much.

I’m hoping you’re getting some sleep. Can I see you today?

Groaning, you tossed your phone to the side, and took a long shower. By the time you got out, someone was knocking on your door. 

You quickly dressed in some old pajamas and called through the door, “Go away, Az.”

“Well, at least you’re alive,” you heard him say. “Can I please come in? Two minutes?”

You threw the door open, furious. “No, you cannot come in. You humiliated me. You used me. You had your fun. What else could you possibly want?”

Azriel was standing on the threshold, his hands in his pockets nervously, his facial expression looked like you had just slapped him. “I want to apologize! I want to make things better, that’s what I want.”

Biting your lip to keep from crying, you said quietly, “Go away.” 

His face fell. “I love you.”

Shaking your head, you said, “You don’t.”

He took a step forward, wedging his foot on the door jam so you couldn’t close it on him. “I do,” he said, his eyes pleading, baring into yours. “You know that I do. You know I’ve never let anybody else see the real me. Nobody but you.”

Tears spilled onto your cheeks then, and he wiped them away gently. Despite everything, you couldn’t back away. “It doesn’t matter,” you croaked. “You only went out with me so you could help her ruin my life.”

Azriel opened his mouth, as if to reply, but then shut it. 

You laughed humorlessly. “See? Even you don’t have a comeback.”

His eyes softened, his rough fingers still absentmindedly stroking your cheeks. “Please,” he said again. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not enough,” you whispered, your heart breaking all over again as you looked up at him, at the pain in his eyes.

“How do I fix it?” He whispered back, tears sliding freely down his cheeks now.

“I don’t know,” you said, stepping back out of his grasp. “Please, Az. I just -- I need to be alone right now.”

He nodded, drawing his arm across his face to wipe the tears away. “Okay. Okay, I’ll umm -- I’ll see you later?”

You didn’t know how to answer that, didn’t know if you would see him again at all. He took a step back, into the hallway. 

Without another word, you shut the door.

Especially knowing where that awful bet had originated, you refused to let Azriel and Claire get in your head for finals. You buckled down, spending entire days at the library studying, writing papers, finishing projects. 

It was helpful, actually. You didn’t allow yourself to think about him, about all the memories you had that had become so tainted and confusing. 

By the end of the semester, you had maintained all your A’s, passing every final with flying colors. And thus, secured the very top spot of the Dean’s list.

Azriel had been texting and calling every day. You left them all unanswered. 

You hadn’t yet had time to think, to process through the hurt. 

A new text chimed as you were packing up your car to head home for the summer. 

Saw the list. Nicely done, bookworm. I know it doesn’t matter, but I really am proud of you. Looks like all that hard work paid off ❤️

Despite everything, there was a swell of emotion in your chest at his words. God, why did everything have to be so awful?

Later, you were hefting your last box into your trunk when you heard the distinct sound of a motorcycle slowing down behind you. Your heart raced. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to see him again or not.

Slowly, you turned around to see Azriel sliding off the bike, his helmet tucked under his arm. “Hey, beautiful,” he said, somewhat tentatively.

“Hi,” you said softly. 

He nodded to your car, his expression grave. “You’re leaving?”

“Back home for the summer,” you said, unable to take your eyes off him. He looked tired. And sad. 

A moment passed silently, the two of you just looking at each other, pain hanging in the air between you.

“I miss you,” he said quietly. 

You sighed. Willed yourself to be brave. “I miss you, too,” you admitted. 

Something like hope gleamed in his eyes. “I love you,” he murmured. 

“I --” you started, and couldn’t bear it. ���I need time.”

He looked crestfallen, like you had just punched him in the gut, but he nodded. “The summer?”

You swallowed. “Okay,” you said. “Okay. I get the summer, and I’ll find you in the fall. We’ll talk then.”

“Thank you,” he said, quietly. “Thank you for… for that. For talking to me now,” he winced. “I know I don’t deserve it.”

“No, you don’t,” you said, but there was no malice in it. You were too tired. “I get the summer, Az. Don’t contact me until school starts.”

He looked like he wanted to argue, but agreed. “Okay. I’ll see you in September,” he said, backing up towards his bike. “Have a good summer, bookworm,” he added with the slightest of smiles, before he slid on his helmet and drove away.

---

You spent most of the summer moping around, reading books, and trying to sort through everything that happened, all the feelings you had. 

For three months, you sifted through every moment that Azriel and you had shared together, picking them apart, deciphering every movement. 

It may have been slightly unhealthy.

You believed that what you and Azriel had was real. You believed that he did love you. And you couldn’t deny that you loved him. That maybe you always would. 

Was it worth it to deny yourself the person who had made you so happy? Who had taught you new things, who had helped you out of your comfort zone?

As September grew closer, you still weren’t sure. 

 ---

Azriel got more and more anxious as the summer came to a close. It had been torture to not contact you at all, but he knew he was in no position to be asking you for anything, so he did as you asked. 

The hurt on your face those months ago was still a clear image in his mind that haunted his nightmares. He would never forgive himself for hurting you. 

Yet, he couldn’t stop imagining what would happen when he saw you again. Would you give him another chance? You would have to be a saint to even contemplate that. But then again, you were the best person he had ever known. If anyone would be able to forgive, it would be you.

Scowling, he stomped that shred of hope down. He couldn’t go into this having any expectations. 

Soon, he would know.

---

It was bittersweet coming back to school. Academia was where you thrived. You felt right at home in the library, stacks of papers all around you. 

And you used to feel at home with Azriel. 

You sighed at the thought. The first day of classes was tomorrow. You had told Azriel not to contact you until school started back up again, and knowing him, he would take that seriously. 

Deep down, you knew what you wanted to do. It terrified you, though. 

Sure enough, the next morning, you had a text from him:

Hey, bookworm. Hope your first day of classes goes well. 

The slightest smile spread across your lips. You knew he was probably dying to ask when he could see you, but was trying to keep it light. Leave the ball in your court.

For the first time since everything, you texted him back.

Thanks, Az. Yours, too. 

He opened it immediately. After a moment, you willed yourself to send another:

Wanna meet up at the tennis courts tonight? 

His reply came at lightning speed:

7?

Reigning in your smile, you replied:

7.

You couldn’t remember ever being this nervous as you walked to the tennis courts. There were a few people playing, so you sat underneath a tree nearby, willing your legs to stop shaking. 

Right on time, a familiar motorcycle turned into the parking lot. He spotted you immediately, striding over to you with unsure steps. 

“Hey, beautiful,” he said quietly. 

You looked up at him, your heart racing at the familiarity you felt. “Hi,” you said, and after the briefest hesitation, you patted the grass next to you. You weren’t sure you would be able to stand. 

Immediately, he plopped down across from you, his knees only inches from yours as he faced you. 

His eyes were locked on yours. “How was your summer?” he said, his voice cracking slightly. 

“Okay,” you said. “How was yours?”

“Okay,” he said quietly. 

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “Okay, here’s the thing. I did a lot of thinking. A lot of thinking. And I do love you, Az.”

You paused, not sure how to word what you were feeling. 

“But?” Azriel said, his voice dripping with trepidation, his eyes guarded.

“But it’s going to take some time before I can trust you again.”

Azriel swallowed, his eyes never wavering from yours. 

He seemed like he was waiting for you to continue before he said anything, so you added, quietly, “I am willing to try, though. To give us another chance.”

The tautness in his body released, relief flooding his features. “Really?” he croaked, tears swimming in his eyes. 

You could only nod before he launched towards you, knocking you on your back, before he threaded his fingers through your hair, kissing you deeply. 

You laughed, as his other hand came up to cup your face. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I swear I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you,” he said against your lips.

Wrapping your arms around him, you sighed into his kiss. “I know, Az. I know.”

“I love you,” he murmured, moving to kiss down your neck.

“I love you, too.”

“I missed you so much,” he groaned before kissing your lips again.

You giggled. “I missed you, too.”

He finally stopped kissing you, settling his elbows on either side of your head, leaning his forehead against yours. “Thank you. For giving me another chance.”

Smiling, you kissed him swiftly on the lips. “Don’t mess it up.”

“I won’t. I swear I won’t.”

The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon in each other’s arms, going over your respective summers. 

Eventually, Azriel propped himself on an elbow, gazing at you with all the love in the world.

“What?” you asked. 

He grinned. “You wanna go mini golfing, bookworm?”

You couldn’t help but return his smile. “Only if I can help you again.”

Azriel leaned down to gently kiss your forehead. “It’s a deal.”

A/N: wanna see more of these two?? Check out part 2!

@thalia-as-blog @saltedcoffeescotch

[k-hotchoisan]

how to tame a brat tamer

<wooyoung x fem!reader>

where Wooyoung teaches his brat how to tame a brat at her request

genre/warnings: smut, pwp, one shot, brat taming her brat tamer, light use of whip, dom!Wooyoung lets reader play with him, WOOYOUNG IS TIED UP, teasing, unprotected sex, light bondage (from m to f), breeding, semi-rough sex, wooyoung is snarky and he teases reader, light whipping/slapping, shoving with foot, cumming in underwear, thigh whipping, this is just pure fucking filth.

a/n: I’ve been so down bad for Sylus from love & deep space….. & this fic is very loosely based on this card (pls rngesus let me get this card) so I felt like I should share with the class 😔 (Also dear fucking god Sylus. I’ve been so preoccupied with him that I’m slowly going deranged)

w/c: 2.8k

taglist here❤️

“Such a fuckin cute look you have on your face now.”

Wooyoung stares up at you, his thick lips pulled to a smirk, jet black strands of his curtain bangs falling to his face, his foxy eyes narrowed with taunt, and his white dress shirt down three buttons. 

“I don’t recall letting you speak, Jung Wooyoung”, you say disapprovingly, forcefully lifting his chin with the whip. 

Wooyoung’s smile only grows wider. He looks amused. 

“Can’t help it. You look cute when you’re trying to play with me like this.” 

You narrow your eyes at him, and you let the whip trail lightly down his chin, down his throat, to his collarbone, and you hear him groan slightly from the light touches of the leather piece. That’s giving you a burst of confidence at least. 

Unfortunately, you’re still internally gawking at the way Wooyoung has his hands tied behind his back with the bondage ropes he used on you, kneeling before you like a good boy. Even in this state, Wooyoung still looks so fucking good. 

When you put up the proposal of letting you brat tame him, Wooyoung had his eyebrow raised at your request. Initially, he almost jumps to decline your offer, but something at the back of his mind somehow convinced him to let you do it. Maybe it was the way you towered over him when you did it, in your pretty little short nightgown—that barely covered your bare pussy—you know Wooyoung can’t keep his eyes and hands off. Maybe it was the thought of Wooyoung wanting to try something new in the bedroom—and it sounded enticing to him. 

Of course, he showed you the ropes, teaching you the basics. And when he least expected it, you pounced on him. 

So now, he’s tied up, kneeling before you, smiling up at you. He thinks you’re so cute trying your best. 

You close the distance between the both of you, the whip back on his cheek once more, his head tilted back, eyes downcast on you, his smile not faltering. 

Well, that is, until you’re slapping his cheek repeatedly with the leather whip that his smile fades, and his brows furrow. His eyes grow sharper with irritation. 

His voice drops an octave. 

“I don’t think doing that is a smart move, sweetie. You’re gonna regret it.”

Suddenly you’re feeling more courageous that he’s unable to do anything to you, for now, at least. 

It’s your turn to smile back at him. He’s looking at you like a predator. 

Then you remove the whip. Using one hand, your fingers easily unbutton the rest of his dress shirt. You could just freely pull his shirt off now. 

But you opt not to, instead, your whip replaces your fingers, the soft leather trailing agonisingly slow from his abdomen up north. You hear him groan, and he jolts slightly when the leather grazes his clothed nipple. 

God, he’s getting so fucking hard from this. 

He looks at you intently, ignoring the tight erection tugging against his pants.

“Is this your way of flirting?” Wooyoung questions, his gaze playful, yet taunting. 

“Maybe. You’ve always known my favourite hobby is riling you up.”

Wooyoung’s small smile slowly grows into a smirk. “Of course, sweetie.”

Your body tingles with anticipation whenever he calls you that. It makes you subconsciously lick your lips. It makes you want to maybe obey him. It makes you want to want to go down on your knees for him, and let him do whatever he wants with you. But when your eyes rake over his chest heaving with weight under you as he tugs slightly against the taut ropes binding his wrists, you remember that at least for now, you’re in control.

Your finger trails up his jaw and your thumb strokes gently against his chin. You watch him take a deep breath while he shuts his eyes, letting your painfully slow and soft strokes send electricity down his spine and right to his cock. Then you finally shift your thumb to his bottom lip. He instinctively parts his lips as an invitation to slip your thumb in, but you don’t. You keep your thumb on his lip, rubbing, teasing him, knowing his eyes would flutter open and his eyes would reflect frustration when he doesn’t get his way. Was this the type of thing Wooyoung gets off from? Depriving you of what you wanted? You hated to admit it, but when it was your turn to take his role, it was undeniable that the appeal dangled over you like a sweet treat. 

The smile on your lips grows wider. You’re getting addicted to this feeling. 

“You look so fucking cute when you’re pouty like this, Jung Wooyoung, even when your cock is just begging to be let out.”

Fuck. Wooyoung really trained you a little too well.  

“It takes a brat to tame a brat”, he would say. Of course, who else could have been a more perfect fit for him than you? 

Wooyoung doesn’t reply to you. His panting is growing slightly heavier, his wrists being decorated with imprints from the ropes—a clear indication that he’s growing more antsy. He wants to pounce on you so fucking bad. His mind is flooded with the want to tie you up, to make sure he breaks you at his own sick pace, but undoubtedly, the way you’re treating him right now is making him grow so needy and desperate, and he fucking loves it. 

And when you stand up, looming over him, his heartbeat is loud in his ears. Your foot drags up his bare abdomen that peeked out of his unbuttoned shirt, watching him wince slightly at the touch and suck his teeth as your foot travels up his body, grazing his nipple before stopping just below his collarbone. 

His eyes are locked onto yours, entranced and anticipating your next move. 

Even though he has guesses about your next move, it still takes him by surprise.

With much force, you shove him with your foot, enough for him to tumble back and he falls back onto the floor. Your heart is racing, wondering if you’ve gone too far, ready to break the character when he remains still. But when you hear him mutter curses under his breath before he turns to you with a shit-eating smirk, you know you’re fucked in the best ways possible. 

You get onto the ground, climbing over Wooyoung, straddling his thighs, the wet patch staining his pants not going unnoticed by you. 

“I expected you to be rougher with me, sweetie. You know we both like it rough.”

A smack to his upper thighs with the whip, and you’re rewarded with a strained groan that passes his lips, his eyes roll back and shut slightly from the sudden impact, accompanying his jerk. 

“Is that rough enough for you, baby?” You ask, tone laced with condescension, your fingers catching his jaw, forcing him to face you. 

“Definitely took me by surprise, sweetie”, Wooyoung manages to reply, his eyes trailing down to your lips for a quick second, wetting his with his tongue. 

You lean in closer to him, letting your lips ghost over his, and Wooyoung’s breathing speeds up. 

He’s craving for touch—any touch from you, and his patience thins out even more when you pull back with a smile, knowing you denied what he wanted. 

You hear him cuss under his breath, one reflecting frustration. You know he’s turning restless. 

“Do you want me to touch you, Wooyoung?”

“You really should”, is his answer. 

You raise an eyebrow, another smack to his thighs making him shiver again.

“That’s not how you ask, babe”, you remind him. 

His stare bores a hole in your head, but you’re not relenting. You’re having a little too much fun. 

“Touch me, please”, he mutters. “Need you to touch me so fucking bad.”

The smile you’re so poorly suppressing feeds into your ego. But well…

“Wasn’t so hard was it?” You hum, settling the whip down beside you so you could let your hands wander across his body—his bare abdomen, his chest, his nipples, watching him squirm and sigh when you’d graze over them. 

Feeling kind, your fingers are back to his jaw—soft strokes to his bottom lip, prying them open with your thumb, before you lean in for a wet kiss. You shift slightly, making sure you’re seated just above his thick erection, his body reacting with a jerk while he gives into the kiss. 

He feels so fucking good against you like this. His kisses grow sloppy and desperate, wanting to taste every part of your mouth before you take it away from him again. 

You grind your hips against him, listening to him grunt against your lips every time his clothed cock is stimulated. 

In between kisses, he mutters through half-lidded eyes and with a low voice. 

“You’re not playing fair, sweetie. I’m warning you.”

You only smile against his lips, another thrust, which makes Wooyoung bite his tongue, trying to hold the feeling off. Unfortunately, he knows it’s hopeless when his tip is just being rubbed and grazed, over and over again. You pull your lips back, tilting his head back with your index finger, mimicking the orgasm that’s slowly washing over your partner, his cock’s soft pulses against your bare pussy, and you’ve shamelessly stained his trousers with your own glistening arousal at that feeling. 

Wooyoung nuzzles against your neck, trying to hide his thinning patience. 

“I think you’ve had your fill, sweetie. Now, be a good girl and untie me, please?” 

You know that’s not a good idea. Not when he’s sounding more feral by the second, despite the softness that remains in his voice. 

You free him from the ropes.

Wooyoung’s arms immediately wrap around your hips. He lifts you from your thighs, turning to the bed and dropping you onto the fluffy sheets. You watch with glazed eyes as he trap you with his legs on each side, then he rubs his wrists, seemingly to soothe the imprints. 

“Good job on your first attempt trying to brat tame me, baby”, he says, but you can’t tell if the compliment is genuine. 

You continue to hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears, the anticipation gliding through your veins. Wooyoung’s gaze has slightly turned dark, and the both of you know how unpredictable he can get. 

“But now it’s my turn to have fun, don’t you think?” Wooyoung asks rhetorically, removing his shirt off his shoulders, knowing his bare body has you on the verge of drooling in seconds. He forces you to watch him unbutton his pants, slightly sighing when the pants are off, and you can’t help but gasp at the sight—the fabric of his underwear wet and translucent—some of his cum stains both the inside and out of his underwear. But it’s clear that he’s still thick and hard, and ready for seconds. 

He places his finger between your breasts, and he lets it slowly trail down south. Even though you’re still covered by the nightgown, well, barely, it still sends sparks up your spine and goosebumps across your skin when he passes by your stomach, down to your pelvis, and he stops right at your pussy. 

“Oh, now that I’m untied and above you, suddenly you’re cowering?” He teases. “Where’s my bold baby gone to?”

His fingers slip under the opening of your shirt nightgown, and it’s taking everything in him to not just destroy you when he’s reminded you’re not wearing panties underneath. 

Wooyoung circles your clit slowly, rubbing and pressing against it from time to time, and it makes your breathing grow more shallow. You force yourself to keep your legs open, knowing fully well that he’d trained you to keep them open when he decides to play with your pussy.

“If I’d known you’d get this excited when you’re playing with me like this, I should let you do it often”, Wooyoung mutters, his free hand sliding the thin straps of your nightgown off your shoulders. He’s enjoying watching you squirm, the way you’re subtly clawing against the sheets, the way your thighs are trembling slightly from the pleasure.

“But there’s only so much patience I have.”

Every time your thighs are about to snap shut, Wooyoung holds them apart and punishes you by edging. It’s driving you nuts.

“No. Keep them open for me.”

You whine defiantly, your thighs resisting against his unmoving muscled arms. 

“I can’t take it. I wanna be fucked now”, you frown. 

“Then beg for it, sweetie”, Wooyoung instructs, his fingertips drawing slow and light circles, knowing it’s enough to edge you. 

“Good girls beg for what they want.” 

You had it coming, honestly, and despite all of that, you would do it all over again. You bite your lip. 

“Please”, you whimper. “Fuck me, make a mess out of me, do anything you want with me, Wooyoung.”

The smile that pulls on Wooyoung’s lips matches the overflowing lust that’s gleaming in his eyes. You’re reminded well who’s really in charge here, and it sends tingles down your spine. 

“Seems I really spoiled you rotten, hm?” Wooyoung taunts, lining up his cockhead and lowering to your pulsing hole. 

“You’re lucky I adore you-“

—and he pushes his cock into you, watching the way you gasp and the way your back arches slightly. 

“And a request to make a mess out of you? Gladly.”

He groans. 

“Fuck. Even when I just fucked you dumb the other night, your pussy is just so fucking warm and tight.” 

You blink back the tears, feeling his cock dragging along your walls, pleasure just shooting through every nerve when he’s stuffed you full. 

“Obviously it wasn’t enough, was it?” 

The glint in Wooyoung’s eyes grows more feral. 

“Playing cute with me even my cock is making you dumb huh?”

His hands grab both your wrists, pining them above you, rendering you completely helpless before him.

With that satisfaction, he pulls back, before plunging back into you, giving you little to adjust before he’s completely thrusting into you, over and over, listening and watching you choke on your moans, mess up your pretty mascara with your tears, feeling the way you’re forced to take Wooyoung’s cock raw in your pussy like his good girl, cream and slick just piling over at the base of his cock, some seeping past your spent folds. 

“Wooyo-“ your voice is strained—your thighs are twitching from the pleasure, your pussy feeling so perfectly abused by his fat dick. “It’s too much—“

“You begged for it, so fucking take it, sweetie”, he curtly reminds you, offhandedly admiring the way your tits bounce every time he fucks his cock into you. 

“Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Jung Wooyoung”, your moans are pathetic and loud. The sounds of wet squelching and slapping make it all the more perverted, and boy, were you and Wooyoung eating it up. 

“I’m fucking cumming. Fuck! That feels so fucking good—“

Wooyoung’s free hand has your chin in his palm, forcing you to look up at him in your fucked out and giddy ecstasy. 

The knot snaps, and you completely fall apart with your orgasm rushing into your veins, your pussy convulsing uncontrollably around his cock and your vision turning white paired with your screams of Wooyoung’s name on your lips, over and over. 

His grip on your fingers loosens, because he drags your thighs towards him, making sure his cock goes impossibly further into your pussy, grunting at the way you’re pretty much choking his cock. 

“That’s it, baby. Ready to milk me out?”, he asks, feeling himself slowly reaching his high soon. 

He knows you’re twitching and crying, and all the more he adores fucking the ever loving shit out of you, because he stills himself, and makes sure your pussy takes in every single drop of his thick cum in you. 

Wooyoung catches his breath, his mind still hazy from the orgasm, and he slowly pulls out, the whines and sobs from you sounding like music to his ears while he watches his thick white leak out of your tight hole. 

When you’re back to sobbing, twitching and leaking mess that Wooyoung enjoys turning you into, he’s satisfied. 

He retrieves the ropes from the floor. 

“I thought it was real cute of you, sweetie, knowing how to get me hot and bothered, making me go on my knees for you”, Wooyoung adds, taking both your wrists. Through your teary vision, it doesn’t take you long realise he’s binding your wrists together with said rope. 

Oh, you’re so fucked. 

Wooyoung’s fingers creep under your chin, forcing your head to tilt up to meet his gaze which swarms with his twisted desires. 

 “I guess you need a reminder of who’s the real brat here, hm?”

taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @vic0921 @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee @ywtf @jeon-ify @itza-meee @miss-fallon @hwallazia @bunnyluvr25 @eggyboy5 @hourswithoutyou @iwishiwasthemoontonight @yunhogrippers @watermelon2319 @vampiregirl215 @kibs-and-bits @liyahbug05-blog @luvt0kki @httpseungmxn @sanhwajoong @bitejoongie @no1likevie @wlv-asteria @s-h-y-a @comicnerd557 or @kpopwrites @yuyusgirl @jwnghyuns @everythingboutkpop @skz1-4-3 @skteezcursed @minalizasworld @seomisaho @tunafishyfishylike

❤️ sylus bonus ❤️

[atyourmerci]

I hope your daddy doesn’t own a gun

Southern dbf!abby

Cw: smut, MDNI, dom!abby, subfem!reader, age gap (r! Is 20, abby is in her 30s), masturbation, phone sex if you squint and turn your head, lil sprinkle of degradation, fingering, voyerism, no y/n, no pdor

A/N: I hate this<3

They all saw you as a child, still just daddy’s little girl in your pigtails and bloomers. Even at twenty, after ditching the pigtails and swapping the bloomers with mini skirts that let your ass peak out, didn’t deter their perception of innocence.

Your father was a wealthy man, charismatic and giving that drew the people around him in. Most of his friends watched you grow from childhood, through the ugly duckling phase, all the boyfriends, and growth of your now womanly figure. Not that they noticed. Not that you cared- other than her, Abigail, your father’s best friend from college. Abigail went on to work at your father’s company after college and frequented your life from birth.

You couldn’t recall when it shifted, when she went from your father’s best friend to a toy dangled in front of your face, so close yet unattainable. Clean cut, dressed in button ups, khakis, the cowboy boots that peaked through the bottom of them. Her hair neatly tied in a braid.

The only time you’d seen it down was when your dad held a backyard rager you snuck out to watch. Most of the party had dissipated late into the night, but you had spotted Abby and one of the receptionists in your pool. You watched as the pretty receptionist lazily dragged the strands out with her fingers as Abigail worked her mouth around her chest.

Thats when the heat in your chest began for her, watching her control. Seeing how she could have anything she wanted. You wanted her to desire you, need you so badly shed take you there, even with the risk of wondering eyes.

-

This night ended as they all did. At the end of the night you’d get sent to your room so they could smoke cigars and speak of vulgarities that you now were more than aware of. For fucks sake you were in college now, getting tossed around by pitiful girls that still couldn’t make you come. Abby would, you knew it.

You’d touch yourself at night to the thought of her for the past couple of years, she’d know how to take care of your needy cunt. You’d think of yourself in the pool that night, how your fingers would dance through her hair. The scent of musky pine still overwhelming your senses even though her skin was bleached of pool water. How her fingers would feel deep inside you, her hand covering your mouth to quiet you.

Your father would kill her.

“Alright hun, why don’t you head to bed,” your father says after a fit of laughter. Everyone continues the comfort, your eyes dart to Abby, who seems to be the only one privy to your father’s prompt.

“Dad don’t you think i’m too old for that now,” you try not to get defensive but it comes out bitchy. He gives you that stern glare, the ‘don’t make me ask you again’ look and you glance back at Abigail who gives you a pitied pout, “be a good girl, listen to your father.”

You huff out, making a scene and storming off. Slamming your bedroom door behind you, infuriated. Pissed at your father for treating you like a child still, pissed at Abigail for backing him up. Pissed that she looked so good tonight, the way she put her hand on your lower back to pass you, whispering a ‘xcuse’ me darlin’. Maybe it was her goal to work you up just to leave you helpless and begging.

Your window has a shot of the backyard, all your father’s friends laughing over cigars and bourbon. Pissed how she called you a good girl, right in front of your father, everyone, knowing the effect it would have on you.

She wanted to tease you, work you up in front of everyone? Then they should all watch what she did, a careless act on both ends.

Throwing yourself on your warm sheets, pulling up your sundress to reveal your bare cunt. Driving your head back into the sheets as your fingers work at the pulsing flesh, so tense from the slow incline Abby had you on all day. Your fingers slid so easily through your folds, pearly white slick coating your harsh fingers.

Your breath panting and eager, so ready to revel in your own pleasure after being ripped from it. You’re already close, feeling your stomach tighten in anticipation as you feel your phone buzz at your side. ‘Abigail Anderson’ illuminates your face, without giving yourself a chance to catch your breath you answer.

“Don’t you dare think of coming,” Abby says sternly. Your face flushes, fuck. You peer your weary eyes at the window next to your body, Abby stands a couple feet away from the men, staring dead at you through the glass.

“Wha-“ you pant out, staring dumbly at the woman that never gave you this extent of her control. Your head drops back down onto your pillow, too embarrassed to admit your shameful actions.

“I didnt tell you to stop, did I sweetheart?” Abby says with smugness in her tone.

“N- no ma’am,” giving into her so easily, running your hand down your body to meet back at your sopping cunt that buzzes at her words. “Good girl… you like that, don’t you?” She says doubling down- so fucking sure of her power over you, your mind, your cunt.

“Yes Abby- yes! please Im so close,” you bite down on your lip for relief, your hole clenches over nothing, fingers eagerly tracing circles around your swollen bud. Any moment you’d break, heels digging into your frilly sheets as your chest soaks with sweat. You hear the line go flat on your phone.

You were too fucked to stop, you were going to let yourself have this. Gripping into the sheets you prepare yourself, legs shaking as your door swings open to Abigail. Your legs wide open for her eyes to feast on, she takes a moment to gawk at the sight before locking the door behind her.

She walks over to the head of your bed, unbuttoning her shirt as she watches you drive lazy motions over your clit. She discards her shirt to the side, revealing her bare chest. Climbing so slowly up to you she places her hand on your sloppy cunt, cupping it as her other hand covers your mouth, “Don’t make a sound and I’ll let you come.”

Wild eyed you nod your head, letting her run her thick fingers down the slit of your cunt to collect your release. The smell of pine thick in the air, the sound of her fingers dragging in and out of you the only peep to be heard.

“you think about this all the time don’t you darlin? Turned into a nasty little girl, didn’t ya.” Abby begins to pick up her pace, fingers sliding in so easily. Your eyes roll back, mind going numb.

“Tight little cunt you got, swallowing my fucking fingers,” you try not to scream out, but her unrelenting pace at your hole was getting to be too much. The feeling of spilling over hitting you once again. Your screams are muffled by her meaty hands, but she can feel your pulse around her.

“You gonna come baby?” Abby coos, looking at you pitied and cruel. You shake what motion you still had left in your head.

“Be quiet so your daddy doesn’t hear what a whore his little girl is,” she laughs at how pathetic you are, all from just her fingers.

like that you’re set off, squirming under her heat as she fucks your pussy through it, watching you opened mouth panting as your head pushes into your plush pillows. Biting into the flesh of her palm cant block off the guttural scream you let out. She pushes down harder at your mouth but only pushes her fingers deeper. Every last drop she was going to get out of you.

Thats when you hear the ring of a jiggle on your locked doorknob.

[gallavichsreddie1128]

In the back of the Honda (Deadpool)

Description: Y/N and Wade fuck in the back of the Honda

Warning: Smut

Word Count: 1,346k

Request: can we have a deadpool smut in the suit ?

Being in the void with Wade and Logan wasn’t so fun after all. Y/N thought that they would be a good team and could take on the world but she was wrong. All they kept doing was fighting and it was starting to piss her off. At first it was funny but now? After dealing with Nova, it was annoying. “Guys can you be serious for once?” She asked but they ignored her. Logan seemed to hate Wade’s guts especially after hearing that the promise Wade made was bullshit and that it wasn’t guaranteed to save his universe.

He said some pretty hurtful things but Y/N got his pain. “Y/N my dear, step out of the car.” He told her while staring at Logan through the mask. She didn’t question it and got out just for a fight to break out moments later. Wade and Logan flew out of the car multiple times and she looked unimpressed each time. She just wanted to be home with Wade but of course this happened. “Alright!” She yelled walking back up to the car. “Stop fighting!” She yelled and they both looked at her.

“I’m so sick of this! We need to come up with a plan instead of violence.” Being the voice of reason wasn’t easy when it came to these two. “You’re right.” Logan said and Wade agreed. Y/N smiled at the two, happy that she got her way. She turned around for a second and a fight broke out again. “WADE!”

Y/N yawned as she got up and realized that they weren’t in the Honda anymore but in a cabin? She looked over to see Logan drinking and Wade was still asleep. “Hey babe, wake up .” She shook him. “Thor!” She looked at him confused, “Were you dreaming about Thor?” She asked with a laugh.

“No. Maybe I- Where are we?” He asked, looking around. “I don’t know but I like it.” Logan smirked, holding up the liquor. Y/N got off the bed to examine the place. Wade followed her until he got knocked down by some woman. Y/N stepped back and saw who it was. Elektra. Her eyes widened and Wade got up. Blade had walked in next and then some random foreign guy. “The Gambit.” His accent was hot. “Who is this fine lady?” He asked walking up to Y/N. Wade had stepped in front of her, “Listen here friendo she is mine, okay?” Y/N chuckled at his jealousy and pushed him aside to shake the guy’s hand. “Y/N and yeah he’s my boyfriend.” Wade smiled under his mask at her words. X23 came out and it was Logan’s daughter which should have been emotional but since Logan doesn’t know her, it’s not? 

“Well we came out alive.” Y/N said and shivered at the memory of Nova’s fingers in her head. The others figured after hearing that, that they should give it a shot besides Logan. “You’re all fucking dead.” He said and though Y/N agreed with him, they couldn’t stay there forever. 

Y/N and Wade sat in the Honda as Logan talked to Laura. “Beautiful isn’t it?” He asked. “What is? The Honda?” Y/N knew that Wade hated this car and the fact that it’s all they have made it kinda funny. “Yeah, I mean it fucks hard.” Y/N looked at him, confused. “Fucks hard?” He nods and turns to her, “Watch this.” He said and got in the backseat.

He spread himself out and patted his lap. She felt herself get wet at that and climbed to the back with him. “Get on my lap kitten. Daddy’s gonna show you why this car fucks hard.” He told her and she did. His hands traveled up her body and to her tits, giving them a squeeze.

He watched her lightly gasp and closed her eyes. His hands moved down to her ass and he slapped it hard. “Fuck.” She groaned but loved it. His hands moved to her front and slipped in her leggings, “No panties you naughty girl.” He says and runs a finger over her clit. He didn’t take off his gloves so the feeling was new but she liked it. “Wade fuck.” She whined as his movements sped up on her pussy. His other hand sneaks in her leggings and circles her hole, “You are soaked, baby girl.” Even through the glove he could tell.

“Wade please.” She begged him and he stuck a finger in her tight pussy. He chuckled at the sound of her wet pussy. She threw her head back as he started to finger fuck her. One finger wasn’t enough so he added another. “Look at you, my pretty girl. All fucked out from just my fingers.” His words made her moan and she bucked her hips. His fingers were at a brutal pace now.

He slipped his hand that was rubbing her clit all the way up to her mouth. Her lips closed around his gloved fingers and sucked all her juices off it while moaning. “That’s a pretty girl.” He says and her hips start fucking his fingers. He was bold enough to add another finger in her causing her to nearly scream. He chuckled and removed his fingers from her mouth before going down to rub her clit again.

His glove was wet with her salvia and she whined at the feeling. It wasn’t too long before her pussy was fluttering on his fingers, “Are you close?” He asked and she nodded. She couldn’t form words besides his name. Her breathing turned to panting and she felt herself right on the edge when Wade stopped. He pulled his hands out of her leggings and she glared at him.

“We are making this car rock baby girl.” He tells her and pulls down his pants. She manages to remove her leggings and gets back on his lap. “Are you removing the mask?” She asked him and he shakes his head, “I’ve always wanted to fuck you in this suit.” He states and pulls her down so that his dick is right at her hole. “Oh fuck I can feel you dripping on me.” She smirks and slowly takes him in. He sucks in a breath and she gasps as he stretches her out.

“You look so beautiful taking my cock.” He says and she fully sits in his lap. His hands go to her hips and he slowly drags her on his cock. “Mmmm Wade.” She moans as he moves her on him. The pace was brutally slow so she started bouncing on him, actually making the car move. “Fuck yeah baby. Ride my cock.” He says and she moans. One of his hands moves up her shirt to one of her nipples.

She gasps at the feeling of him playing with it and throws her head back, “Shit. Wade, that’s gonna make me cum.” She warned and her pussy started fluttering around his dick. “Fuck sweetheart. You doing that’s gonna make me explode.” He breathed out. “Doggy style?” She asked and got off him. They quickly got in the position.

He slides himself back inside of her and she moans. He doesn’t waste time and starts fucking her again. His hands on her hips and hers gripping the car seat. The car was hot and the window’s became foggy. She placed one of her hands on the window as he never stopped ramming into her.

“Wade, I'm close again.” She warned and her breathing got heavier again. “Trust me baby. I can feel it.” He groaned and slapped her ass. She cried his name at that and he chuckled, “Cum for me baby.” He said and her eyes rolled back. A silent scream left her mouth as she felt herself cream his dick. “I’m cumming, fuck.” Wade whined as his hips stilled and his cum mixed with hers. “Mmmm fuck.” She said as he pulled out. She turned around and collapsed on the seat with him. She turns to look at him and smiles, “You’re right. The Honda Odyssey does fuck hard.” 

[reidmania]

inbetween | spencer reid

good riddance x spencer reid one shot series master list

summary ; after months over talking over email, you and spencer finally meet in person.

warnings ; reader & spencer fall in love over emails, meeting in person, insecure reader, insecure spencer, worries about not being enough, pretty much just pure fluff tbh.

an ; in between yall. this song. this is the first oneshot in the good riddance x spencer reid one shot series!! while i waiting for the poll to finish!!

part one, part two, part three

‘I just can't come between 'em, they got their own thing I wish he'd stop pretendin', he won't let his phone ring. For more than a couple seconds, oh, I think maybe two. two hearts just fallin' in and out of love for somethin' new. ‘i wish that you could see 'em, their faces lighten up their past is cold and empty, they know it's been enough of waitin' on somebody, someone who doesn't care but he knows her name, she knows he'll always be there’

<>

The email rang up at exactly 5:30, exactly when you expected it to. You were sitting at your desk at work, knees pulled to ur chest as you spun on the desk chair. Your coworkers paid no mind to your antics, after working in the safe office for years, with each other. They were used to it by now.

You chewed at your lip as you refreshed your email when the clock changed to exactly 5:30, a wide smile dawned your face when you read the email, you heart ached with longing as your eyes traced over the words on the screen, your stomach tightening and your heart clenching.

Sent from dr.spencerreid@gmail.com at 5:30pm

Hi.

I don’t know when this will send because I’m writing it while on the jet, probably as we get lower and more towards landing, I’ll spare you the scientific details. We only got back from a case this morning, early. Which is why it has taken me so long to reply. Im sorry.

We got a case in Maryland, which I remember you telling me, is where you live. I know I should probably just ask for your phone number but I kind of enjoy the emailing thing. It’s a lot less nerve racking because I can try to pass it off as professional, even though a lot of the time our conversations aren’t.

I actually don’t think we have ever had a professional conversation. Which is a good thing. I really enjoy our conversations no matter what we are talking about. I really enjoy talking to you.

I hope this isn’t too forward but I wanted to know if theres any chance I could see you while I’m in Maryland for this case. I don’t know when it would be or how long I’d be able to see you for, but I do really want to see you. If thats okay with you.

I guess I should give you my number, so you know I’m not some creepy old man. That would be ironic since I work at the FBI and my job is to stop people like that… I don’t know.

Heres my number, 023387677

Love, Spencer.

Your stomach tightened at the idea of seeing him in person. You never admitted it, but you knew he wasn’t an old man, you knew exactly who he was. You made the decision to google his name 6 months ago, when the two of you first started emailing back and forth after he accidentally sent a work email to the wrong person and you replied. It started as just telling him he had sent it to the wrong person, then he thanked you and apologised and made a joke and then the conversation just flowed.

You had been having conversations with Spencer Reid for six months and you felt like you knew more about him than you did yourself. He told you about his day, and about things he had been through, He opened up to you about his addiction and his mom and you opened up to him about your own trauma and issues.

Spencer Reid was your best friend and you had never met him. You had never even heard his voice. You only had seen his face on google when you searched up ‘Spencer reid FBI’ and a photo came up, he looked younger than you assumed in it, seeing the photo was from a few years ago. You felt slightly bad since you knew he could google you and probably come up empty handed — you had the upper hand.

You look at the clock as it inches closer to six o-clock when you finish work. A boring office job, you often complained to Spencer about. It was ironic since his job literally traumatised him, and yet you complained about the boring desk job, although he never ever compared, he would listen and comfort you after a bad day no matter what, just like you did for him.

You don’t reply to the email he sent as you typed the number he sent into your phone, saving the contact under ‘spence’ The nickname that had developed only weeks into the two of you talking. You send him a text, letting him know it was you, saying hi.

“Phone.” You hear your boss, warning you about using your phone at work, you lift your head an apologetic smile on your face as you close your phone, placing it face down on your desk as you close your email and return to your work after muttering out a sheepish, ‘Sorry!’

Spencer is sitting in a conference room of the police station in Maryland. He didn’t know it but he was only two blocks away from the office you worked. He never usually cared to check his phone while working — nothing could be as important as the case.

Until you, until now.

He found himself hanging out to feel the buzz in his pocket, he found himself checking his phone just in case maybe he missed the message. Just in case you did message.

He also checked his email a lot.

“Whats up with boy wonder?” Derek asked as he spun a chair to sit on it backwards, resting his arms on the back of the chair as he looked around at the other team members. Spencer focus on anything other than the case.

“He gave mystery girl his number” Emily said, patting Spencers shoulder softly to get his attention as she walked past him, placing a coffee down in front of him. Spencer noticed how it was his normal order — despite the fact lately he had been getting your order, after he found out what it was. It made him feel a little bit closer to you.

“Oo, Okay lover boy.” Derek hummed approvingly, raising his eyebrow slightly as he looked down at the boy. Spencer sighed as he let back in his chair, tossing his phone on the table as he checked to get no message. “Nothing yet?” Emily asked, knowing Spencer had been stressing since he sent the email on the jet, nearly two hours ago.

He didn’t know it hadn’t even delivered until a few minutes ago.

“Shes probably just busy” Spencer muttered as he checked his watch for the time. 5:33pm, you’d be at work.

Derek shared a look with Emily, both with teasing smiles on their faces. They had watched Spencer obsess over the girl for the past 6 months, even after he tried to hide it for the first few. He did a horrid job, they all noticed him smiling at his computer and typing away more often than ever, they noticed his focus slight adverted. It took a bit but they eventually got it out of him when you didn’t email him back for a week and he was going insane with worry that maybe you were ghosting him, or that you were hurt.

He confided in his team, you emailed him a few days later saying your wifi went down and none of your emails were going through. He was instantly relieved.

His phone buzzed on the table, 5:35pm. His hand instantly reached out for his phone. His eyes widened and his lip twitched upwards as he read the message that lit his screen.

“And lover boy is in” Derek whispered to Emily, loud enough that Spencer could hear that only ended up in Spencer sending him a glare, before typing out a reply and sending it, asking to call you tonight when he got finished.

“Alright, We got a lead” Hotch said entering the room.

You leant against the back of your head board, your hair wet and dripping down the back of your neck as you waited nervously for call to ring through your phone. You were almost terrified of what the conversation might hold. You were glad you were calling before you agreed or disagreed to meeting him, you could feel out whether or not it might be awkward or not.

You almost jumped out of your skin as your phone started ringing, anxiety pooled in your stomach as your skin flushed hot, causing the drops of water on the back of your neck feel as if it was burning the skin. You reached out for your phone that rested on your bed side table, answering the call.

“Hi.” You muttered out a breath of air. You couldn’t even help but smile as the realisation dawned on you. You were talking to Spencer. Finally, actually talking to him.

You heard a harsh breath on the other side of the phone before some shuffling. “Hold on” He mumbled out, you stomach fluttered at his voice as your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as you bit back a smile.

“Okay.” You said, you heard some more shuffling before the sound of a door closing, then a creek. And then a breath.

“Hi” He settled on, you sat up a bit, crossing your legs as his word came out almost breathy and nervous. It made your chest thump against your ribcage so much it ached. “Sorry— I should’ve waited till I was in my hotel room to call, I was excited— Sorry” He said.

You could hear the nerves in his voice and all it did was make your cheeks beat a rosy hue. “It’s okay. I was nervous” You admit softly, you try to hide the slight embarrassment in your voice but it fails you as your words come out small.

You hear him chuckle. You think the sound genuinely makes your mind fall empty of any coherent thoughts. “You don’t have to be nervous” He spoke so softly as if his words were an exhale he had been holding in.

“But I am” You muttered.

“Me too.” He said honestly. You found comfort in the fact he cared enough about this interaction to be nervous about it. You went to run your hand through your hair but paused with you felt the coldness — it was still very wet from your shower.

“Good” You sighed out, voice almost a whisper. You didn’t know why you were speaking so quietly, there was no one else in your house. There was no reason to be as quiet as you were.

“Is good that I’m nervous?” Spencer asked, you could hear the teasing in his voice. It made your head spin and the words get caught as you shook your head, before remembering he couldn’t see you.

“Yes- No- no. No.” You muttered out, “Its uh- Its not good that your nervous— I- Its just good that you care” You scrambled out, stuttering over your words as you grew flustered. It made you want to turn into your pillow and scream.

You heard him laugh, making your face screw up. “Shut up.” You muttered out as it didn’t take a genius to figure out he was laughing at you scrambling over your words, your free hand came up to cover your face as your cheeks felt on fire.

“No- Im sorry. Im sorry. Of course I care, you know I care” He said softly as he collected his laughter, his voice dripping honesty for a moment as he spoke genuinely in a way that made your knees feel weak — Thank god you weren’t standing. You were silent for a moment as a smile dawned on your face.

“Tell me about your day.” He requested gently. You heard some more shuffling you could only assume he was getting comfortable in bed. You pictured it and it made your stomach burn with longing. Wishing it wasn’t just an image in your head.

And you did, you told him about your day and he told you about yours; the conversation flowed simply and sweetly from then on. He teased you whenever you stuttered over your words, you could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke.

You and him spoke until your voice was quiet and drowsy with sleep, until your eyes were fluttering shut and you went unresponsive for a moment before he asked if you were asleep and you would wake up to the sound of his voice, muttering out a no, to which he would chuckle, and tell you to go to sleep.

When you fell asleep, he waited ten minutes to make sure you were really asleep before hanging up. His heart full as he fell asleep smiling.

Sorry I fell asleep. If i didn’t throw you off completely and you still want to see me, im free any day after 6, when i finish work.

Spencer smiled at the message. The acceptance. You were accepting meeting him, seeing him. He couldn’t fathom the idea of anything you doing ever throwing him off. You had wiggled your way into his chest months ago, and you stayed consuming every part of him everyday since. He didn’t see that changing any day soon, or ever.

He sent you an address to a bar Derek suggested the team going to after work. He didn’t know if maybe it was too forward, or might be awkward with his team there, but at least if it didn’t go well there was people around.

He closed his phone as he waited for your reply, his mind replaying the conversation he had with you last night, how sweet you sounded, how your laugh made his heart clench, how whenever you said his name or spoke a little louder he felt light headed, unable to focus on anything but you.

There was anxiety in his stomach when he realised the two of you never quite talked about what it all meant. What the months of conversation back and forth was. He realised he didn’t know what you wanted. What you expected.

Maybe you just saw him as a friend, maybe to you the conversation is nothing more than friendly. Honestly, if that was the case Spencer didn’t think he would be able to deny you of that. He would do anything to keep you in his life, even if it caused a slight ache in his chest. He had told you things he couldn’t imagine telling anyone else, he trusted you in a way he didn’t know possible, and it may be stupid, maybe naive, but Spencer didn’t care.

The way he felt for you took over any ounce of doubt in his mind, it overtook the insecurity welling in his mind, that maybe you wouldn’t like him, not the way he liked you.

He had never felt so much for a person. He had never felt so much point blank. He could hardly fathom you feeling for him near the amount he felt for you.

Your hands traveled over your jeans softly as your palms grew sweaty as you stepped inside the bar. Thanking the guy you held it open for you as he walked out. You were instantly overwhelmed by the amount of people, the music playing and the people chatting. You probably should have gotten changed first instead of coming straight after work but you were too nervous and didn’t want to give yourself time to dwindle in your insecurities then chicken out.

You manoeuvred your way through the people, quiet apologies leaving your lips as you looked around for Spencer, or anyone who looks like they might be an FBI agent.

What does an FBI agent look like? you thought, as you let out a sigh, finally getting out of the crowd of people as you got to the back of the bar, a lot more free of space. A few people around, standing at tables. You skimmed over for a moment as you tried to catch any glimpse of the boy that you could.

You heard your name, making you spin on your heels. You saw a dark haired girl smiling at you. Well that isn’t spencer.

“Yes?” You said, smiling at her as you tried to hide the anxiety building in your veins. Your hand coming to push hair off your face softly as you try to focus on the girl in front of you. She grins widely, “Spencer is over there, you looked like you were looking for someone…” She said, my smile instantly widened as you looked over to where she nudged her head.

your breath got caught in your throat as your eyes settled on him, the photo didn’t do him justice in any way. His hair was messy and slightly grown out, he was engrossed in a conversation with who you could only assume was Derek Morgan, who Spencer had told you about. His tie was crooked in his suit as he lifted his arm to sip the drink in his hand.

you tear my eyes away as you look at the lady who is smiling at you. “Happy with that?” She asks. It takes you a moment to recognise her as Emily, whom Spencer had also told you about. You can hardly put it into words how your chest feels like its gonna explode as your heart thumps.

“He is gorgeous.” You breathe out, shaking your head as words fail you, your eyes trail back to him for a moment to see him laughing, you see his head turn towards the door, as if he is waiting for you to walk through them.

Emily smiles, patting your shoulder softly, “Cmon Mystery girl” She said, you pay little attention to the nickname as she encourages you to walk towards the table with her. Your legs feel like Jelly with every step that you take, your stomach twisting in the familiar feeling of anxiety.

When she pauses at the table your breath hitches. “Oi Reid” She mutters, both he and Derek turns their head towards her, “Look who I found” She says softly, hand brushing over your shoulder.

Spencers eyes skip over to yours and you watch an emotion pull his features. An emotion you can’t quite place and it makes your stomach ache at the uncertainty, insecurity creeping up the back of your neck.

“Hi” You breathe out as you look at him. Theres a moment of silence before he is pushing away from the table and walking around to you. His arms around you the moment you are in reach and it makes your muscles tense slightly before relaxing completely in his hold as you wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him back.

Emily and Derek watch in amusement for a moment, smiling when they see the look on Spencer’s face. The one you couldn’t place the one they knew all too well.

He was in love.

He was in love before seeing you, he knew that but watching you stand there grinning at him made him all the more sure about it. His hand rested on your waist as he pulled back from the hug to look at your face.

“Hi” He whispered back.

You chewed at your lip at you bit back the wide smile that tried to force its way into your features. His hand traveled up to your face before he could stop it hand cupping your face gently.

You eased, leaning into his touch the warmth of his hand feeling gentle against the soft skin of your cheek. “Y-You- I- Hi.” He stuttered this time.

You grinned, “Cat got your tongue?” You ask, teasing him like he would every-time you stuttered over the phone. He just grins in response.

“No. You’re beautiful” He said, eyes dancing over your face, he looked at you like he was trying to memories every little detail. Your stomach tightens and your knees felt weak as the compliment left his mouth. You had been told that before, but it felt different coming from him. He said it with honesty and sincerity.

“So are you” You said back before hugging him tightly again. He didn’t complain at all, instead his arms fell tightly around your waist as he held you against him, as if he was scared that if he let go you would disappear.

The night went on, you stayed by spencer’s side, his hand on yours or around your shoulder gently as if he couldn’t get enough of the feeling of you being next to him. You never complained — you took it all as a compliment and leant into his touch.

“Are you cold?” Spencer asked as you and him walked outside of the bar, hand in hand. he noticed the way you shivered as the cold hair hit the skin of your bare arms. You turn your head to look up at him, the look in his eye enough to make your chest clench around the fat of your heart.

“A little” You admit. It was nothing you couldn’t handle, but spencer was instantly pulling off his suit jacket for you, slugging it gently over your shoulders as the two of you walked down the street. You paused in your steps as you looked up at him.

“Thank you.” You say.

“Its okay- I don’t want you to be cold” He said softly. You couldn’t help but smile at his kindness, but you shook your head. “For that too— But I meant, for asking to see me. Thank you for thinking of me when you heard about where the case was — for talking to me everyday. Thank you for being my best friend Spence” You said softly as you lean against your car as you and him stop in front of it.

His lip twitches upwards into a smile as his hand drops yours instead resting softly on your lips. “I always think of you.” He admits, eyes on yours.

Your breath gets caught in the back of your throat. “Spencer.” You say softly.

He looks at you, really looks at you. He is seeing you. He is seeing every little thing you have told him over the last six months, every little detail about you there was to know, and all he could think about was he wanted more, he wanted to know you more.

“Yeah?” He says, his voice a whisper.

You feel anxiety pool in your stomach as the question lingers on the tip of your tongue. There was a pull towards him you couldn’t ignore, the same pull you felt when you received his email, six months, 2 weeks and 3 days ago. You’d count the hours but you figured that was more his style.

“You can say no, I want you to know that” You said, you wanted to make it perfectly clear that his response to this was completely up to him and you didn’t want to feel pressured. “Can I kiss you?” You ask.

His lips are on yours before you can even finish the question. One hand of his travelling to the small of your back to bring you in closer while the other tangles in your hair, cradling the back of your neck. Your hands instantly cup his face as you press your lips against him. Your lips together saying more than words ever could.

This, right here, him, right now.

It was everything and more.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

jealous? who, me?

theodore nott x reader where you meet his friends for the first time and daphne is definitely not in your good books

↬ word count : 931 words ˎˊ˗

↬ warnings : secondhand embarrassment (for daphne) ⭑.ᐟ

↬ author's note : i loved this too much (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵)

navigation┆theodore nott masterlist┆request here 𝜗𝜚

You weren’t supposed to be feeling this way. This was Theodore’s night—his friends, his circle, his world. You’d come to the party with the intention of being supportive and charming, maybe even making a good impression.

Until Daphne Greengrass entered the picture.

She was pretty. Too pretty. Effortlessly gorgeous with her sleek blonde hair, sharp cheekbones, and a laugh that danced through the room like wind chimes. And the worst part? She knew Theodore—knew him well.

You stood beside Theodore, nursing your wine glass and trying to maintain a polite smile as Daphne monopolized the conversation. Her hand brushed his arm—again—and she tossed her hair back with an almost rehearsed air of effortlessness.

Theodore, ever the gentleman, leaned in slightly to hear her better, his lips twitching at something she said. You weren’t entirely sure what was so funny, but you were sure it wasn’t that funny.

“Oh, that’s funny,” you muttered under your breath, your voice laced with dry amusement.

Theodore’s brow quirked, but before he could speak, Daphne excused herself. “Excuse me for a second, I need to grab a drink,” she said, flashing you a quick glance, one you could only describe as calculating.

Theodore turned to you as soon as she was out of earshot, his brows knitting together in mild confusion. “What’s funny?” he asked, his voice low and smooth.

You smiled sweetly, far too sweetly. “Nothing, Tesoro. Just enjoying the show.”

One brow arched as he slid an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “Amore mio,” he murmured, his voice carrying a teasing edge. “Should I be worried?”

You took a deliberate sip of your wine, eyes flickering toward the direction Daphne had gone. “Not at all. I think you’re the one being thoroughly entertained.”

Theodore’s lips twitched again, this time with a barely concealed laugh. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here you are,” you shot back, your smile sharp enough to cut.

His brow quirked, but before he could say something, Daphne made her way over, holding two glasses of champagne. She handed one to Theodore, completely ignoring you.

“Thought you might need a refill,” she said, her tone light and lilting. “We wouldn’t want you getting parched, would we?”

You raised your own glass slightly. “Oh, don’t worry, Daphne. I’m keeping him hydrated just fine.”

Daphne’s smile faltered for half a second before she recovered. “How thoughtful of you.”

“Isn’t it?” you replied, tilting your head with faux innocence. “I like to take care of my things.”

Theodore’s grip on your waist tightened, and you could feel the low rumble of a laugh in his chest, though he didn’t let it escape. Instead, he pressed his lips to your temple in what was meant to be a calming gesture but only fueled your sass.

“So,” Daphne began, clearly trying to redirect. “Theo was just telling me about the time we went to Monaco together. What a trip, right?”

“Monaco?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow. “How quaint. Theo and I were just talking about planning something grander. Italy, maybe. You know, somewhere with a bit more... romance.”

Daphne blinked, clearly thrown off. “Italy’s nice. I’ve been to Tuscany a few times.”

“Of course you have,” you replied, swirling your wine lazily. “So cultured of you.”

Theodore cleared his throat, his grip on your waist now firmly grounding. “Amore mio,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear. “Play nice.”

“I am playing nice,” you whispered back, your tone dripping with faux sweetness. “She started it.”

“I heard that,” Daphne said, smiling tightly.

“Oh, good,” you said, flashing her a grin. “I’d hate for you to feel left out.”

Theodore’s shoulders shook slightly as he tried—and failed—to suppress a laugh. “Daphne, why don’t you tell me about that new project you mentioned earlier?” he asked, his voice steady despite his amusement.

“Oh, yes!” Daphne launched into an explanation about some fashion venture she was working on, her hands gesturing animatedly. You nodded along, your expression politely disinterested, until she said something you couldn’t resist.

“It’s been such a challenge finding the right balance between trendy and timeless, you know?” Daphne said.

“Oh, I wouldn’t know,” you replied airily. “I just wear whatever Theo likes to take off.”

Daphne’s cheeks turned a shade of pink that clashed horribly with her dress, and Theodore’s hand on your waist flexed as he pulled you even closer.

“Cara mia,” he said softly, his voice low and filled with warning. “Behave.”

“I’m behaving,” you said innocently, glancing up at him with wide eyes. “Aren’t I, Daphne?”

Daphne set her champagne down on a nearby table, her smile now more brittle than bright. “Well, it’s been lovely catching up, Theo,” she said, barely sparing you a glance. “I’ll see you around.”

As soon as she walked away, Theodore let out a quiet laugh, his forehead dropping to your shoulder.

“You’re impossible,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin.

“She’s impossible,” you shot back.

“She’s harmless.”

“She’s obnoxious.”

He straightened, his dark eyes gleaming as he looked at you. “You’re jealous.”

“Am not.”

“You are,” he teased, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Fine,” you admitted, crossing your arms. “Maybe I didn’t love the way she looked at you.”

“Amore mio,” he murmured, his voice softer now. “She could look at me all she wants. I’m still going home with you.”

You huffed, but the way his hand slid up your back and the warmth in his eyes softened your irritation.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you muttered.

“And you’re lucky I find you endlessly entertaining,” he replied, leaning down to kiss you.

[no-144444]

photograph- c.leclerc

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or, 5 moments in y/n and charles's life that made the internet go crazy :)

charles leclerc x norris! reader

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AC incident 

You walked into Charles’s room, a drink in hand. God, you forgot how hot Monaco was, even this late in the year. When you’d packed to come visit your boyfriend, you’d thought about the cold and miserable weather back home, not the hot, sweaty, humid, and sunny weather of Monaco. That’s how you ended up in a pair of Charles’s shorts, and just your bra.

“Baby?” He called you. 

“Hm?” You nodded, not looking up from your phone as you lay on his bed. You knew he liked gaming, especially when it wasn’t much about racing, and you didn’t want to disturb him. But his room was the only one with working AC, and you were about to die in the kitchen’s heat. 

When you didn’t get an answer you looked up to see his eyes firmly glued to you, rather than the fifa game he’d just lost. You could hear all his friends shouting at him for missing a goal and costing their team the win. 

“What?” You chuckled, getting up and walking over to him. 

“You look so beautiful, my love,” he pressed a kiss to your cheek when you bent down beside him, laughing at the comments in his ears about him being down-bad. “So pretty.”

“Thanks baby,” you smiled, casting your eyes to the chat, which was all about you and Charles, either complimenting how good you looked, or how cute you were together. 

Landosnandos21: y/n is looking good. DAMN. 

y/n’sversion: Monaco weather is a blessing if we get to see mother like this. 

Charlesleclerc’stoes: alexa play ‘that should be me’ by justin bieber. (I’m taking about charles his woman is FINE.)

y/n’shairfolical: marriage when? children with perfect genetics when?

Pastryboy81: if he’s not this obsessed with me, i don’t want it. 

You laughed at the chat as Charles let his hands wander down your back to your ass, then further to your thighs. 

“Hey!” You heard Lando’s voice through his headphones. “Get your hands off my sister! Stop being weird on stream!” 

You laughed as Charles dropped his hands from you like you were on fire. “Lando, shut up,” you held your middle finger up to the camera, hoping he’d see it as Charles laughed with you. 

“I’m just going to turn the AC on, ok?” You turned to Charles, who stared for a second, then nodded like a puppy. “Thanks,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to his lips, then going back over to the bed and turning the AC on. 

His gaming continued for another 20 minutes before he shut off the game and came over to you. “Hello baby,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to your neck as he lay beside you. You kissed back as his hands wrapped around you, pulling you closer. Though his body was warm, you didn’t really mind. “Can we-?” he smiled bashfully and you chuckled.

“Is the stream off?” You asked, knowing his challenges with technology.

“Maybe? I do not know,” he chuckled. “I don’t really care.”

You chuckled, but got up anyway, actually turning off the stream. “Bye guys!” Only a bit embarrassed. 

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Bahrain 

Charles had been training and preparing since the moment he’d gotten up that morning, aka, he hadn’t seen you. There he sat, in his freezing ice bath, when he caught a glimpse of what he thought to be you, cycling with Carlos. He gave a sneaky look to the camera that was on him, then; one second he was there, his trainer looked away, and the next second, he was gone. Shot off like a rocket in your direction. You and Carlos had to jump off your bikes and almost fall over to get out of his way, and even then he chased you all around the paddock, trying to get a hug. 

“Charles! You’re soaking wet!” You laughed as you felt the eyes of the entire team on you two. 

“Come on mi amor! I have not seen you all day! I never race my best without seeing you!” He pleaded, still chasing after you. 

Your laughing stopped when Carlos grabbed you by the shoulders to stop you from running away, helping Charles’s plan. He held you to his chest as Charles celebrated and thanked him, and as the team videoed. 

Finally, Charles made his way over to you and smirked. “A hug, my love?”

And you had no choice. You were passed from Carlos’s arms to Charles’s and hit with the freezing water that coated his swim shorts and his body. “Fuck Charles!” You squealed. “You’re freezing!” 

He just laughed and pressed your head further into his neck, pressing kisses to the top of your head as the paddock became a chorus of ‘awws’ and ‘oooos’. 

“I’m getting you back for this,” you gritted, low enough so only he could hear it.

He smiled wider. “I know you will.”

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Streaming goes wrong

Charles was doing another stream with the f1 boys, you knew that. Charles liked to get very focused on what he was doing, you knew that. But Charles had also promised to come pick you up from the airport, and after 30 minutes of waiting for Arthur to find his baggage (birthday surprise for Charles), then 40 minutes of waiting for Charles, nothing. Not even a phone call or a text. You were exhausted, Vancouver to Monaco was an 11 hour flight, and you hadn’t slept a wink thanks to the guy in front of you, who’s snores could’ve started an avalanche if they were given the chance. 

You opened twitch and pressed on Charles’s stream, to find him busy racing with the other boys. You sighed and decided to just get a cab instead, not wanting to bother him. He could be very forgetful, and you knew that. 

After a 32 minute drive, walking up the stairs with your suitcase since the elevator was out of order, and coming inside, you dropped your suitcase by the door, and went straight to your neighbours apartment to get Charles’s other birthday present even if you weren’t going to try and talk to Charles right now, not when you were that angry. 

Charless16900: wasn’t y/n coming home today? Did you pick her up?

Charles glanced at the chat to see the message and his face fell. He was meant to pick you up- he looked at his watch- more than an hour ago. He checked his phone to find the messages you’d left and he sighed. 

“I am in big trouble,” he told the group, a sorrowful look in his eyes.

George chuckled. “What? Why? What did you do?”

“I forgot to pick up Y/n from the airport!” He groaned. “She got a taxi instead.”

“Oh, so that was the noise from earlier, your door opening,” Alex added. 

“What?!” Charles squeaked. “She is home already?”

“I think so mate,” Max laughed. “Good luck.”

Charles got up from his chair for a few minutes to go and talk to you. “Baby?” He called out to the apartment. “I’m sorry?”

And then a pillow was flung at his face. “You dick!” Arthur shouted. “You forgot us at the airport!”

Charles stared at his little brother, completely confused. “What are you doing here?” He chuckled, throwing the pillow back. 

“I am here for your birthday surprise!” Arthur explained, throwing the pillow back at him. “You know, the one Y/n set up?”

Charles shook his head, even more confused. 

“Thanks Arthur, congratulations, you ruined the surprise,” you walked in with a small dachshund in your arms. “Well, here's the other part of the surprise.”

Charles stared at you. “You got me a dog?” He smiled, taking the dachshund from your arms.

“I got us a dog,” you corrected him. “Happy birthday-eve,” you smiled. “Also fuck you for not picking me up from the airport.”

“Yeah, exactly!” Arthur cheered, annoying Charles. “You could’ve seen me way faster- ew! Stop it!”

Arthur started complaining because Charles had started kissing you. You chuckled into the kiss as one of his arms wrapped around your waist and the other held your new dog. Your arms wrapped around his neck as Arthur threw a pillow at the both of you, causing Charles to pull away and start chasing him around the apartment. 

You chuckled to yourself and picked up the pillow, fixing up your bed. Maybe you could forgive Charles for his mistake. Then you looked at his gaming set-up and saw that everything was still on and that he was still streaming. 

“Charles!” you scolded, going over and ending the stream with a wave. “Turn off the stream before you run off!”

“Sorry, my love!” He called back. 

“And Arthur!” you shouted. “Stop chasing your brother around my house, you’re going to break something!”

“Sorry!” He called back. 

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Qualifier

You watched with bated breath as the qualifier for the Monaco GP dragged on. It was the last lap, Oscar right on his tail, and…

He did it. He crossed the finish line first. Ahead of Max, ahead of Oscar, ahead of everyone. 

The entire paddock was alive with cheering. Every person pulled someone closer in with hugs and cheers, and it was all thanks to Charles. Arthur and you were jumping up and down, ecstatic that he’d won. As soon as you two could, you ran to the lineup and watched as he jumped out of the car, running straight towards you. He pulled off his helmet, handing it off to someone, then he scooped you up in his arms, a bright smile on his face as he kissed you. The small camera crew and the number of fans around clapped and cheered as cameras flashed and pictures were taken. 

“I love you,” he whispered. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you smiled. “My winner.”

“Your winner, always. And soon, your husband." 

Thank god neither of you were wearing microphones. 

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Interview goes south

“Does being Charles Leclerc make you fuck more?”

Charles tried to stifle the shit-eating grin on his face when he looked up and found you with your head in your hands, shaking your head and laughing as the second-hand embarrassment hit you like a freight train.

He chuckled. “I am very lucky, I am very in love and my beautiful girlfriend loves me too,” he smirked. “But the answer is definitely yes,” he laughed as the other interviews burst into uncontrollable laughter. Obviously he was making a joke (no he wasn’t, you two went at it like bunny rabbits), but it was awfully embarrassing for you both. Charles beckoned you over and you obliged, only to set the record straight. 

“He’s joking about that,” you clarified. “And don’t be so sure on how much your girlfriend loves you after that answer,” You scolded. Charles laughed, holding you closer and pressing ‘apology’ kisses to any piece of you he could reach. The video ended with Charles chasing you around the paddock as you ducked past people to evaded his capture.

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navigation for my blog :)

[gloxk]

Sneaky linkin’

(Eren Y. Armin A. Connie S.)

A/N: i’m not COMPLETELY back, but I am making a slight improvement w my mental health… so here’s sum slight for yall🤷🏽‍♀️. I kinda hate this but maybe yall will like it..ion know. Luv ya tho. 17+.

Synopsis: Aot men as sneaky links.

Warning: Smut.. F/M

━━━━━━━⚠︎━━━━━━━

Eren! ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 ———Back seat bandit

Eren..is definitely a back seat bandit. It’s mainly because he has a nice car, why not show it off?

Now, all i’m going to say is (Persian rugs- jacquees version.) Oh lawwwd, he definitely plays that while giving the most sloppiest, nastiest, messiest, back arching back shots ever. This man does NOT play.

Hair puller, choker, dirty talker. He’s the type to make you tell him how good he’s fucking you. “Uh-huh, right there? You like that baby?” And you better tell him too.

The hair pulling thing just comes by instinct. You could be giving this man the sloppiest head ever, deep throating him till hes hitting the back of your esophagus and all. The type of head that makes him feel like he’s shifting reality. He will tug your hair to get a real good look at your face, saliva dripping down your chin and red coating your face. A face that just screams ‘ Am I making you happy?’. He would stare at you with a shit eating grin just while the camera flash hits your face.

Degrading as fuck. He would just say some shit to boost his ego during sex. “I know you like that shit, stop acting like you don’t.” & “You can scream my name louder than that. Try again.” & “Stop fuckin running.” Don’t be fooled now, he’s also going to talk you through it and give you reassurance. “You doin so good f’me.” & “it’s all yours mami.” & “You look so pretty right now.”

Ugh this man just loves to have his hand wrapped around your body. Around your waist, neck, thighs, hands—it don’t matter to him. He loves touching on you. Any time yall link his hands just find their way over your body.

Connie! ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 ——— Any time any where

Connie..is the type of guy who can fuck ANYWHERE. Car, room, closet, random family bathroom at a gas station—he don’t care.

If you’re down, he’s down. Y’all could be out shopping and he fucks you in the dressing room.

This man LOVES when you ride him. He would just watch you in awe while you bounce up and down on him.

Definitely a talker during sex, he loves telling you how good you’re doing. “Mhm—fuck—I love when you do that.” & “Cmoonn look at me while you do it.” & “Arch that back mama.”

Now, he’s a recorder. He records everything. He has a little folder in his phone dedicated to your link ups.

Although he’s gonna dick you down anywhere he can, his favorite place is the shower. Got some music playing in the background (P power - gunna) while he’s plowing into you. The shower couldn’t even cover up your loud moans.

Pull out ? Nah, “You wanna be grown, let’s be grown baby.” He doesn’t believe in wasting, so either you sucking it up or taking that shit.

Armin! ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 ——— munch

Armin..is an eater. He’s gonna eat like it’s his last meal every fucking time. His tongue game is vicious. Absolutely diabolical, the messiest head you will ever get.

Salvia dripping on the couch, tears falling from your eyes due to overstimulation, legs locking around his head—he still wouldn’t stop. He won’t stop till you force him to.

Hold on now, Armin ain’t just an eater, he got good dick too. He’s a saint that’s gonna fuck you like a sinner. Let him get some liquor in his system and you’re going to be begging for round 2.

Speaking of drunk Armin, he’s gonna fuck you against a wall. Just something that’s going to happen one way or the other. One leg in the air while the other dangles just above the floor, his hands gripping on your ass so hard it leaves a mark.

Oh it doesn’t stop there either, he’s going to stumble his way to the bed and take you there too.

Hella vocal whimpering, moaning, whispering. He’s going to let you know your pussy good. “God-you feel so fuckin good.” & “Please keep doing that.”

Loves teaching you new things, different kinks, positions, anything of the sort. I know he just loves exploring and experimenting things with you. He’s a freaky freak for sure. <3

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whore…

[honey-pages]

Seconds - Jayce x Reader x Viktor

Description -

One Shot- maybe a series if it is something that people enjoy.

Viktor and Jayce have lightly competitive games at work. You get caught in the middle.

F/M. 18+. Smut. Facials. NSFW.

It was usually competitive but friendly. Viktor and Jayce had no jealousy between them when it came you, everything you had was shared equally between the three of you. They would sometimes play good-spirited games around the lab, competing between themselves as to who would make you coffee in the morning or be the last to close the lab with you. These games often ended with some flirtation - between both you and them, and then between them themselves.

The post-it note game was perhaps the most memorable. Little notes were left around for you to find, flattering you and showering you with complements. You would sometimes find them with flowers or chocolates, Jayce’s handwriting was larger, rounder, Viktor’s was smaller, elegantly scrawled.

Viktor sometimes created little desk robots for your workspace, ones that carried away little balls of paper that you discarded. When Jayce caught on, he began to give them improvements, each with carved signatures with his name on. This was obviously met with hilarity from Viktor who began to write back notes declaring the robots to be patented and therefore his intellectual property. The next time all three of you were together, when Jayce was inside you, he made sure to explain to Viktor that it was you that was his property.

The next day on your lunch break, you sat with Viktor while Jayce carried on working. You had around fifteen minutes before you were due to get back to work. He sat you on the floor between his knees in the study room. He looked so tall sat over you, one hand trained on your chin, tilting your head back to give him a better target to aim for. You waited patiently, the two of you giggling about what Jayce’s response will be.

“Don’t move, (Y/N), I’m almost ready. I’m going to cover you.” He moans, giving himself the final strokes that push him over the edge, shooting hot streams over you. You open your mouth for him.

“You look so good like that, painted with me.” He uses his fingers to scoop back out the cum that fell into your mouth, wiping it over your face. “We need as much as we can on your pretty face for Jayce to see.”

When you went back into the lab, you walked up to Jayce who sat in his chair, focused.

“Hey (Y/N)!” He called as he felt your hands on his shoulder, he spun to talk to you.

He slowly took in the sight of you, covered in Viktor. There was silence, then laughter.

“What did V do to you?” He asked, not able to control his amusement.

He took your hand and guided you forward, he lowered you onto the floor, sitting you between his legs just as Viktor did.

“Did he do this?” He asked, pulling himself free and beginning to pump himself with his fist. He hovers over your face.

“Something like that” You reply, your face feeling completely wet. You smile up at Jayce.

“I am going to send you right back to him.” He promises, getting faster and faster, streamlining his pleasure to finish with speed. He spills over you, grunting as he does so. “Now tell Viktor to take his thirds, since I made such good use of his seconds.”

When you returned to Viktor, he was genuinely open mouthed at the sight of you, your face completely covered. He stood to circle around and examine you. He stiffened a little at the thought of what Jayce has just done to you. If he hadn’t emptied all that was inside of him, he may have been tempted to fuck you in a way in which he could see the collaboration of both of their work. He was speechless. He had no response to give, you had already exhausted him. All he could do was hold his hands up and accept temporary defeat. He made a mental note to come back harder - partner versus partner.