#clash of the fan clubs

[ur-mag]

Fans baffled by Liverpool kit for LASK clash with some saying club should be ‘kicked out of Europe’ for it | In Trend Today

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[whatsdnews]

Manchester United vs Borussia Dortmund: Who Will Come Out on Top?

[superdorkcat]

Upcoming Magical Girl Projects

Magical girl fans are finally eating good after years of starvation. So good, in fact, that I decided to make a list of magical girl projects in development. This is a continually updating list whose history can be found here.

You and Idol Precure - The 22nd season of the Precure franchise, You and Idol will replace the currently airing Wonderful Precure on February 2, 2025. While walking her dog, Uta Sakura comes across Purirun, a fairy searching for the legendary Idol Precure to save her homeland from the Chokkiri Gang. Uta then transforms into Cure Idol to take back the "sparkle" of her neighbors after it's stolen by a Chokkiri agent.

Puella Magi Madoka Magica the Movie - Walpurgisnacht Rising - The fourth PMMM movie, which will pick up where Rebellion's massive cliffhanger left off. While originally slated for late 2024, it has since been delayed to winter 2025.

Cute High Earth Defense Club Eternal Love! - The magical boy series is getting a new movie in winter 2025 as part of the celebrations for its 10th anniversary. The movie will be a time travel story that picks up a decade after the original series.

Maebashi Witches - A TV original production by Sunrise, Maebashi Witches is a coming of age story focused on a quintet of high schoolers who are approached by a strange and mysterious frog named Keroppe, who recruits them to become the titular group. Now working in a magical flower shop, the girls use the "Witchverse" pocket dimension to grant people's wishes with the power of song and dance. Has the same writer as Bocchi the Rock (Erika Yoshida) and is premiering spring 2025.

Princession Orchestra - A TV original coming in spring 2025, Princession Orchestra is based on a concept by Akifumi Kaneko, one of Symphogear's co-creators. The land of Alicepia's peace is destroyed when monsters called Jammerwocks attack, prompting a trio of young girls to step up the plate to protect the realm.

Winx Club - The western magical girl classic is getting a CGI reboot. While comments by Iginio Straffi imply that certain characters who were introduced later in the original series (such as Roxy and Nabu) will appear earlier, no specific plot details have been revealed so far. The series is coming to Netflix late 2025.

New Panty & Stocking with Garterbelt - Panty & Stocking is getting a second season after over a decade that's coming out sometime in 2025. A teaser trailer confirmed the OG voice cast's return and announced the production staff, but plot details are still unclear.

Magilumiere Magical Girls Inc. season two - Magilumiere is getting a second season, which was announced after the broadcast of season one's finale. No other details have been revealed.

Untitled Symphogear movie - A new Symphogear movie was announced in late 2023. However, no further details have been revealed.

Hua Xianzi: Zhi Mofa Xiang Dui Lun - A co-production between Tencent Video and Toei Animation's Shanghai branch, this anime is being billed as a "remake" of Lunlun the Flower Fairy. The heroine is Rumi, an apprentice at a homemade perfume studio who awakens as a Flower Child due to the power of a family heirloom. She's tasked with collecting and purifying the Rainbow Flower's scattered petals, only to clash with another Flower Child along the way and discover the surprising past of her feline mentor/sidekick.

Studio Pierrot's new anime - Studio Pierrot, which has made a variety of magical girl anime from TV originals like Creamy Mami to adaptations such as Tokyo Mew Mew, has announced that they're creating a new TV original magical girl anime. No specific details have been disclosed, but the caption for the teaser image ("I want you to sing once more...") implies that it'll be a magical idol anime.

Lolirock season three - After Lolirock's second season ended with a cliffhanger all the way back in 2017, it seemed like the story would never get a proper conclusion. However, the series's creator and director, Jean-Louis Vandestoc, announced on his Instagram in 2023 that creative meetings for a third season have begun.

Magic Knight Rayearth revival - TMS Entertainment is making a new Magic Knight Rayearth anime in honor of the franchise's 30th anniversary. Unfortunately, it's currently unknown what the format will be.

Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha EXCEEDS Gun Blaze Vengeance - A new installment in the seminal Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha franchise, this will be a new TV anime to celebrate the series's 20th anniversary. No other details are confirmed, but it will presumably be connected to the upcoming EXCEEDS manga that will begin in 2025.

Cardcaptor Sakura: Clear Card season two - The sequel to the magical girl classic is getting a second season that will adapt the rest of the manga.

Magical Girl holoWitches - A multimedia project starring six VTubers as fictionalized versions of themselves who work as both streamers and magical girls who save people when they get trapped in the magical Holocas World. There was a four minute extended trailer in May 2024, but the anime's proper premiere date is unknown.

I Don't Want to Be a Magical Girl - An indie project by Kiana Khansmith, which follows the story of a burnt out magical girl named Aika. While she ran away from her duties in pursuit of a normal life, her position as a Protagonist™ causes her to get dragged into adventures anyway. Khansmith is currently hard at work on the pilot, which has a voice cast consisting of Anairis Quinones, Bennett Abara, Christine Marie Cabanos, Aleks Le, Shara Kirby, Michele Knotz, and Marieve Herington.

New Ojamajo Doremi thing - As part of the celebrations for the franchise's 25th anniversary, Toei Animation released two new music videos for the series' 1st OP and 4th ED with the promise that a new project will be made if the videos reach a combined 5 million views. This goal has since been met. Due to the girls being adults in the videos, the new project will presumably be an adaptation of the Ojamajo Doremi 16-20's sequel series of light novels.

[moonlightwritingf1]

The Fine Line Between Hate and Desire | LN4

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ summary ━━━━━━━ Y/N, a journalist covering a charity golf event, clashes with Formula 1 star Lando Norris, whose playful arrogance sparks heated banter. As the day progresses, their tension shifts into undeniable attraction, leaving Y/N torn between resisting his charm and surrendering to the unexpected connection.

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ word count ━━━━━━━ 4.1k

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content, oral sex (m receiving), mean Lando?

Based on this request.

The sun was high in the sky, casting a golden glow over the pristine greens of the Monaco Golf Club. Y/N adjusted her sunglasses, squinting against the glare as she scanned the crowd. This wasn’t her idea of an exciting assignment—covering a charity golf event featuring Formula 1’s golden boy, Lando Norris. She sighed, gripping her iPad. She was here to focus on the event’s charitable aspect, but she could already feel her patience waning.

She spotted him at the first tee, surrounded by fans, sponsors, and fellow golfers. Lando was unmistakable in a bright orange polo that clashed loudly with his McLaren cap and white shorts. He radiated confidence, his grin wide as he chatted and waved to the crowd. Typical, she thought, marching toward him while adjusting her press badge.

As if sensing her approach, Lando turned and locked eyes with her, his smirk growing. “Ah, the press is here! And who do we have? Y/N, right?”

She nodded curtly. “Mr. Norris,” she replied, her tone clipped. “Ready to lose gracefully today?”

He leaned casually on his driver, the epitome of unbothered. “Oh, I don’t lose. Especially not to journalists.”

A few onlookers chuckled, and Y/N felt her cheeks warm, but she refused to back down. “We’ll see about that. Just try not to embarrass yourself. Wouldn’t want another viral video of you missing a putt.”

Lando laughed, clearly relishing the exchange. “Careful, love. You keep talking like that, and I might think you enjoy my company.”

“In your dreams,” she shot back, her tone sharp.

Unfazed, Lando strolled to the tee, tipping an imaginary hat to the crowd before taking his shot. The ball soared effortlessly, landing perfectly on the fairway. Applause erupted, and Lando turned to her with a wink. “Another perfect shot. Impressed yet?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, pretending to jot something in her notes on her iPad. “I’m sure it’s easy when the only thing on your mind is yourself.”

“Ouch.” He feigned offense, his smirk widening. “I like a bit of bite, though.”

She ignored him and stepped back, but he followed, leaning closer as he lowered his voice. “You could just admit you’re impressed. Everyone is.”

Y/N glared, stepping out of his proximity. “Impressed? By your ego, maybe. I’ve seen better swings from amateurs.”

His chuckle was low and rich, sending an unwelcome shiver down her spine. “Flirting already? You’re full of surprises.”

“Flirting?” she scoffed, narrowing her eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself, Norris.”

Lando grinned, his confidence unwavering. “We’ll see about that.”

Despite herself, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a flicker of something—was it intrigue or annoyance? Either way, she pushed it aside, determined to stay focused on her work, even if Lando seemed equally determined to test her resolve.

--

The day dragged on, and the tension between them only grew. Every time Y/N thought she’d managed to avoid him, Lando seemed to materialize out of nowhere, always with some snarky comment or playful jab. By the time they reached the ninth hole, she was ready to strangle him with his own club.

She was standing off to the side, jotting down notes on her iPad, when he appeared beside her. “You know,” he said, his voice low and annoyingly smooth, “you’re even more beautiful when you’re annoyed.”

Y/N froze, her fingers hovering over the screen. She turned to glare at him, but the intensity in his gaze caught her off guard. There was something there—something she couldn’t quite place. Amusement? Curiosity? Or… something else?

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Norris,” she said, though her voice lacked its usual sharpness.

He tilted his head, studying her. “Who says I’m flattering you? Maybe I’m just stating a fact.” He took a step closer, and suddenly the air between them felt charged, electric. “Or maybe,” he continued, his voice dropping to a murmur, “I’m just trying to figure out why you hate me so much.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. Damn him. Why did he have to be so infuriatingly charming?

--

The day dragged on, each hole bringing more of Lando’s infuriating charm and Y/N’s biting comebacks. By the time the tournament wrapped up, the tension between them was palpable. They found themselves alone near the clubhouse, the late afternoon sun bathing everything in a warm, amber light.

“Still not impressed?” Lando asked, leaning casually against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. His white polo clung to his torso, revealing the defined muscles beneath. Y/N hated how good he looked.

“Not even close,” she replied, though her voice wavered slightly. She hated that too.

Lando pushed off the wall, closing the distance between them in a few strides. He stopped just inches away, his blue- green eyes locking with hers. “You’re lying,” he said softly, his tone dripping with confidence. “I can see it in your eyes.”

Y/N tried to step back, but her heel caught on the edge of the pavement. She stumbled, and Lando’s hand shot out, catching her by the waist. His grip was firm, almost possessive, and it sent a jolt through her.

“Careful,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth. “Wouldn’t want you falling for me too quickly.”

She opened her mouth to retort, but no words came out. His proximity was overwhelming, his cologne filling her senses. She hated how he made her feel—confused, flustered, weak.

Lando tilted his head, studying her. “You know, for someone who claims to hate me, you sure do get awfully quiet when I’m this close.”

“I don’t—” she started, but he cut her off with a laugh.

“Yes, you do. And you know what? I think you like it.”

Y/N shook her head, trying to regain her composure. “You’re delusional.”

“Am I?” His hand slid up her side, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. “Then why hasn’t slapped me yet?”

She didn’t have an answer for that. Her heart was pounding, her mind racing. She wanted to push him away, to tell him off, but her body betrayed her, leaning ever so slightly into his touch.

Lando’s smirk returned, triumphant. “That’s what I thought.”

Before she could protest, he closed the gap between them, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. It was demanding, dominant, and entirely unexpected. Y/N froze for a moment, then let out a soft moan as his tongue brushed against hers. Her hands gripped his shirt, pulling him closer as if they had a mind of their own.

When he finally pulled away, they were both breathing heavily. Lando’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “Told you,” he whispered, his voice husky. “You’re mine now.”

Y/N tried to argue, but he silenced her with another kiss, deeper this time. His hands roamed her body, exploring every curve as if memorizing her. She should’ve stopped him, but the way he touched her—with such confidence, such control—made her melt.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathless. Lando looked at her, his eyes dark with desire. “Come with me,” he said, his voice rough.

She hesitated, but only for a second. Then she nodded, letting him lead her away from the crowd, toward somewhere more private. Her mind raced, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, but one thought kept repeating itself: What am I doing?

--

They ended up in a secluded corner of the clubhouse, hidden from prying eyes. Lando pressed her against the wall, his hands roaming hungrily over her body.

Lando’s hands didn’t stop moving, his fingers trailing up the curve of her waist, skimming the edge of her blouse. His breath was warm against her ear as he murmured, “You talk so much shit during the day, but look at you now. Can’t even form a sentence.”

She opened her mouth to retort, but all that came out was a shaky exhale as his lips brushed the sensitive skin just below her jawline. Her body betrayed her, pressing closer despite the voice in her head screaming to pull away.

“Admit it,” he growled, his tone low and commanding. “You’ve been thinking about this all day, haven’t you? All those sarcastic little comments—just your way of trying to convince yourself you don’t want me.”

Her cheeks burned. She wanted to deny it, to push him off and walk away with her pride intact, but the way he looked at her—like he already knew every secret she’d ever kept—made it impossible. His confidence was infuriating, intoxicating.

“I don’t—” she started, but he cut her off with a sharp, possessive kiss that left her dizzy.

“Don’t lie to me,” Lando said, pulling back just enough to let his words sink in. His thumb traced her bottom lip, his eyes locked on hers. “You can pretend all you want, but I see right through you. You want this.”

Her heart hammered in her chest, every nerve in her body alight. She hated how easily he could unravel her, how quickly he’d turned their banter into something electric. And yet, she couldn’t bring herself to stop him.

His hands slid down to her hips, gripping tightly as he pressed her harder against the wall. The roughness of his touch sent a shockwave of arousal through her, and she bit her lip to stifle a gasp.

“Get on your knees,” he commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Her eyes widened, her stomach flipping at the intensity in his gaze. “What?”

“You heard me.” There was a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, smug and self-assured. “On. Your. Knees.”

For a moment, she hesitated, her mind racing. This wasn’t her. She didn’t do things like this. But then his hand tightened on her hip, and something inside her shattered.

Slowly, she sank to her knees, her skirt pooling around her thighs. The air between them felt charged, thick with tension as she stared up at him. He loomed above her, his blue-green eyes dark with hunger, and she felt impossibly small under his scrutiny.

“Good girl,” he purred, reaching down to brush a strand of hair from her face. The praise sent a shiver down her spine, and she hated how much it affected her. “Now, let’s see if that sharp mouth of yours is good for anything else.”

Lando’s fingers tightened in her hair, pulling just enough to make her gasp. His other hand traced the line of her jaw, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip as he gazed down at her with a smug smirk. “Look at you,” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “All that fire earlier, and now you’re kneeling for me like the good little girl I knew you could be.”

Y/N’s chest heaved as she glared up at him, but the heat in her eyes was tinged with something else—something raw and undeniable. She hated how much his dominance thrilled her, how the way he looked at her made her pulse race. “I’m not—” she started, but he cut her off with a sharp tug on her hair.

“Oh, you are,” he interrupted, his tone laced with amusement. “You can pretend all you want, but we both know you love this. Love being under my control.” He tilted her head back further, forcing her to meet his gaze. “You’ve been thinking about it all day, haven’t you? Imagining what it would feel like to have me put you in your place.”

Her cheeks burned, but she couldn’t deny it. Every sarcastic remark, every heated glance—it had all been leading to this moment. And now, here she was, completely at his mercy.

Lando let go of her hair long enough to unbutton his pants, the sound of his zipper lowering sending a shiver down her spine. He pushed his boxers down just enough to free himself, and Y/N’s breath caught at the sight of him. Thick, already hard, and practically begging for her attention. He gripped himself, giving a slow stroke as he watched her reaction. “Go on,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “Touch me. Feel what you’ve been driving me crazy over all day.”

Reluctantly, she reached out, her fingers trembling as they brushed against him. The warmth of his skin, the hardness beneath her touch—it sent a jolt through her, and she quickly pulled her hand back. But Lando wasn’t having it. He grabbed her wrist, guiding her hand back to him. “Don’t be shy,” he teased, his smirk widening. “You wanted this as much as I did. Now show me how bad you want it.”

His grip on her wrist tightened, forcing her to wrap her fingers around him. He groaned softly as she hesitantly began to move her hand, her strokes tentative at first but growing bolder as she felt him twitch in response. “That’s it,” he encouraged, his voice rougher now. “Just like that.”

But Lando wasn’t content with just her hand. He released her wrist, only to thread his fingers through her hair again, guiding her closer. “Open your mouth,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. When she hesitated, he tugged sharply on her hair, making her wince. “Do I need to repeat myself?”

Swallowing hard, she obeyed, parting her lips as he brought himself to her mouth. He didn’t give her time to adjust, pressing forward until the tip of him brushed against her tongue. “Suck,” he commanded, his voice firm.

She took him into her mouth, the taste of him overwhelming her senses as he slid deeper. He groaned, his hips jerking forward as he pushed himself further, until she felt him hit the back of her throat. Her eyes watered, and she gagged slightly, but Lando’s grip on her hair kept her in place. “Oh, fuck,” he breathed, his voice strained. “You look so good like this, choking on my cock.”

He started to move, thrusting shallowly as she struggled to take him. Each time he pushed deeper, she gagged again, tears welling in her eyes. But instead of stopping, Lando only seemed to grow more turned on by her discomfort. “That’s it,” he growled, his hips picking up speed. “Take it like a good girl. You wanted to play games with me all day? Well, this is what you get.”

Her hands clung to his thighs for support as he continued to use her mouth, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he neared the edge. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he muttered, his breathing ragged. “Can’t believe how easily you folded for me. All that attitude, and now here you are, on your knees, gagging on my dick like the slut I always knew you were.”

His words should’ve made her angry, but instead, they only fueled the fire burning inside her. She moaned around him, the vibrations drawing a loud groan from his lips. “Shit, Y/N,” he hissed, his grip on her hair tightening almost painfully. “You’re going to make me come if you keep that up.”

He pulled back abruptly, leaving her gasping for air as he stroked himself furiously. “Beg for it,” he demanded, his voice dark and commanding. “Tell me how much you want me to finish in your pretty little mouth.”

Her lips parted, but no words came out. She was too overwhelmed, too lost in the haze of desire and humiliation to form a coherent thought. Lando’s smirk returned, and he gave her a knowing look. “Come on, sweetheart,” he coaxed, his tone mocking. “You’ve already come this far. Don’t tell me you’re going to chicken out now.”

Something in his tone snapped her out of her daze, and she glared up at him, her defiance returning despite the situation. “Fuck you,” she spat, her voice hoarse.

But Lando only laughed, low and deep. “Oh, I think you’re the one getting fucked here,” he shot back, gripping her chin tightly. “Now stop being stubborn and beg. Or do I need to remind you who’s in charge?”

She hesitated, torn between her pride and the undeniable thrill of submitting to him. Finally, she gave in, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. “Please,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Please, Lando. I want it.”

His grin widened, triumphant and utterly arrogant. “Louder,” he urged, his tone teasing. “Let me hear how much you need it.”

“Please,” she repeated, louder this time, her cheeks burning with shame. “I want you to come in my mouth. Please, Lando.”

His groan sent a bolt of heat straight through her, and he guided himself back to her lips. “Good girl,” he praised, his voice thick with desire. “Now swallow everything I give you.”

Her lips wrapped around him once more, the heat of his arousal filling her mouth as she took him deeper, her tongue working in slow, deliberate strokes. His hands gripped her hair tightly, guiding her movements with a firmness that left no room for hesitation. She could feel him throbbing against her tongue, his heavy breaths echoing above her as he watched her with those piercing blue-green eyes.

“That’s it,” Lando murmured, his voice low and commanding. “Take all of me. Show me how much you want this.”

“Look at you,” he said, his tone dripping with condescension and something darker, more possessive. “Kneeling there like you were made for it. Tell me, Y/N, did you think about this when you were writing all those biting remarks about me? Did you imagine me bending you to my will?”

She whimpered softly, the sound muffled by his length filling her mouth. Her pride was long gone, replaced by a strange mix of shame and desire that only fueled her actions. Her hands, which had been resting limply at her sides, moved almost instinctively to his hips, her fingers brushing against the taut muscles there. He smirked down at her, his confidence radiating like a forcefield.

“Go on,” he said, his tone dripping with amusement. “Feel me. Isn’t this what you wanted? To see what I’m made of?”

Her fingers trembled as they trailed up his abdomen, feeling the hard ridges of his abs beneath his shirt. She hated how much she wanted to touch him, how badly she needed to prove to herself that he was just as flawless as he claimed to be. And he was—every inch of him was sculpted perfection, from the defined lines of his chest to the strength in his thighs. She bit back a moan as her hands explored him, her mouth still working him fervently.

“That’s it,” he rasped, his voice rough with need. “Take it all. Show me how much you want it.”

She obeyed, her tongue swirling around him, her lips pressing tightly as she worked him with a skill that surprised even herself. Lando’s head fell back, a moan slipping past his lips as he watched her with half-lidded eyes.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he muttered, his voice strained. “You’re so fucking good at this. All that attitude, all that sass… and now this. Who would’ve thought?”

She couldn’t deny it, not with the way her body responded to him, not with the wet heat pooling between her own legs as she knelt before him. Her pride screamed at her to stop, to pull away and tell him exactly where he could shove his arrogance, but her body betrayed her. She wanted this—wanted him—more than she cared to admit.

The humiliation burned in her chest, but so did something else—something hotter, wilder. She sucked harder, her hands gripping his thighs for balance as she took him deeper, her throat relaxing around him. His groans grew louder, more desperate, and she felt a thrill of power knowing she was unraveling him just as much as he had undone her.

“You’re mine,” he growled, his hips thrusting shallowly into her mouth. “All that fight, all that bullshit… and look at you now. On your knees, swallowing me like a good girl.”

Her nails dug into his thighs, but she didn’t stop. If anything, she doubled down, her movements becoming frantic, hungry. She wanted to hear him lose control, wanted to feel him come undone because of her.

Lando chuckled darkly, clearly enjoying the power he held over her. “You’re so fucking easy,” he said, shaking his head slightly. “All it took was a little push, and here you are, on your knees for me. Tell me, darling—how does it feel to know I could have you anytime I want?”

Her cheeks burned, but she didn’t stop. Instead, she took him deeper, her throat relaxing as she swallowed him whole. His breath hitched, and his grip on her hair tightened, pulling her closer. “Fuck,” he breathed, his voice trembling for the first time since this began. “You’re good at this. Better than I expected.”

The praise sent a thrill through her, and she doubled her efforts, her tongue swirling around him as she sucked him harder, faster. His groans grew louder, more desperate, and she knew he was close. She could feel it in the way his body tensed, in the way his hips began to thrust ever so slightly into her mouth.

“Don’t stop,” he commanded, his voice rough with need. “Keep going. Fucking swallow it all when I come.”

She obeyed without hesitation, her moans vibrating against him as she felt him swell in her mouth. He cursed under his breath, and then he was spilling himself down her throat, his release hot and thick as she drank every drop. She didn’t dare pull away, not even when he shuddered violently above her, his hands tightening painfully in her hair.

When he finally stilled, she leaned back slightly, letting him slip from her lips. She opened her mouth, showing him the evidence of his release still coating her tongue. His eyes darkened with something primal, something hungry, and he let out a low, appreciative laugh.

“Good girl,” he purred, his thumb brushing against her bottom lip. “Didn’t think you had it in you, but you proved me wrong. You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

She swallowed hard, her heart racing as she looked up at him. His expression was unreadable now, a mix of satisfaction and something else—something softer, almost tender. But then the moment passed, and the familiar cocky grin returned to his face.

“Bet you never thought you’d end up like this, huh?” he said, running a hand through his messy hair. “On your knees for some arrogant arsehole you claim to hate. Admit it—you like this. You like being my little plaything.”

She opened her mouth to protest, to tell him he was wrong, but the words caught in her throat. Because deep down, she knew he was right. She hated him, yes, but there was no denying the thrill that coursed through her every time he looked at her like that, every time he touched her with that possessive roughness.

His smirk widened, as if he could read her thoughts. “See? I told you. You’re mine now, whether you like it or not.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she shot back, her voice husky despite her best efforts. “This doesn’t change anything.”

Lando laughed, the sound rich and warm, and she hated how much she liked it. “Keep telling yourself that, love,” he said, his hand catching her chin and tilting her face to meet his gaze. His fingers brushed a stray strand of hair from her cheek, his touch unexpectedly gentle. “But we both know the truth—you’re mine now.”

He leaned down, brushing his lips against hers in a kiss that was far gentler than she would have expected from him. It lasted only a moment, but it was enough to leave her reeling, her mind struggling to reconcile the man before her with the arrogant prick she thought she knew.

And then he pulled away, his grin returning as he offered her a hand to help her up. “Come on,” he said, his tone light now, almost playful. “Let’s get out of here before someone catches us.”

She hesitated, torn between pride and the undeniable pull he had on her. Finally, she slipped her hand into his, allowing him to help her up. With effortless ease, he draped an arm over her shoulders, drawing her closer as they strolled away. His warmth radiated through her, a quiet comfort she hadn’t expected.

Glancing down at her, his eyes sparkled with mischief. “You know,” he began, his tone light and teasing, “I might just keep you around. You’re too much fun to let go.”

She rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at her lips despite herself. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Norris. This doesn’t mean I like you.”

He laughed, the sound rich and warm. “Sure, darling. Keep telling yourself that. But we both know the truth.”

His fingers brushed against her cheek, lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “And I can’t wait to prove it to you again.”

[helen-with-an-a]

Hi van you write Lucy Bronze x reader. Reader and Lucy both changed club. R at Arsenal and obviously Lucy at Chelsea. Can you write something about the first game against eachother. Reader is striker so she and Lucy are at battle a lot

Rivalry

Lucy Bronze x Reader

Description: It's the first London Derby for you and Lucy

TW: slight suggestiveness

“Now, remember, you guys do actually love each other,” Millie reminded, her eyebrow arched as she looked at Lucy.

Lucy crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes, flicking a dismissive look across the room. “Not when she’s wearing red, I don’t,” she shot back, her lips pursed.

Millie sighed, rubbing her temples. “You’re literally married,” she deadpanned.

Before Lucy could shoot back, Erin bounded over, grinning from ear to ear. “C’mon, Bronzey. Time to do your worst,” she cheered, her hands landing firmly on Lucy’s shoulders. She gave Lucy an enthusiastic shake, encouraging the childish competitiveness.

"Remember, you’re married. You love her," Kim reminded gently, her Scottish accent warm and soothing as she placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

You shook her off with a dramatic shrug, glancing off to the side. "Not whilst she’s in blue," you said with a smirk, half-joking but also incredibly serious.

Kim raised an eyebrow, trying to hide her amusement, though a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

"That’s what we like to hear," came Katie's playful response, clearly enjoying the spark of mischief in your tone. She leaned in with a wolfish grin, unfazed by the disapproving glance Kim shot in her direction.

“Honestly,” Kim muttered, rolling her eyes but unable to hide her amusement, “you two are impossible.”

You chuckled, exchanging a knowing look with Katie, who winked in return, thoroughly unbothered by Kim’s scolding.

The London Derby – a clash of colours, red vs blue, Arsenal against Chelsea. The stadium was electric, fans on both sides roaring as the teams took their places, the rivalry as fierce as ever. This wasn’t just any match; it was a battle of pride, a test of skill, a stage where heroes were made.

On one side, Arsenal’s new Left Winger, all determination and fire, an unstoppable force that already had 10 goals to her name. Across from her, Chelsea’s Right Back, just as new to the club but with a resolve just as sharp. One of the best defenders in the world, and ready to prove herself.

It was Bronze vs Y/S/N – a head-to-head destined to draw all eyes, both players back in the WSL and ready to prove they belonged.

You loved playing with Lucy – there was an undeniable rhythm when you were on the same side. Your link-ups at City and England were the stuff of legends and had followed you across to La Liga F. But playing against her? That was something else entirely. There was an excitement, a spark that transformed the entire field into a chessboard, a dance floor for you to twist and turn on.

You knew exactly how she moved, the subtle shifts of her weight before a sprint, the flicker of her eyes before she went for a pass. You could practically feel what was running through her head, and she’d always been an open book to you on the field. But it worked both ways. Lucy knew your tactics inside out, the plays you liked, the feints you tried to slip past her, even the tiny tells you had when you were about to break away. She saw it all.

This mutual understanding turned the match into something thrilling – a mental game layered onto the physical. Every pass you intercepted, every tackle she made, felt like a challenge issued and answered. It was a test of skill and instinct, one that you rarely found with other opponents. There was an intensity to it, a sense of pushing each other to the edge, each play daring the other to do better. Against her, you played your best.

“Loser’s tied up tonight?” Lucy whispered in your ear as you lined up for the corner, her hands grazing your hips in a way that set your heart racing, even if you wouldn’t show it.

“Bring it, Bronze.” You shot back, unfazed, letting your smile seep into your voice. You’d trained against her for years now; her mind games weren’t new territory. If anything, you were more amused than anything else.

Lucy let out a dramatic sigh, clearly ready to keep up the act. “Ugh, that’s Bronze-Y/S/N, thank you very much,” she whispered, sounding almost offended, but the glimmer in her eye gave her away.

“Well, the back of your shirt still says Bronze,” you replied, raising an eyebrow and glancing back at her with a smirk.

“And yours still says Y/S/N.” She countered. Before you could toss another witty remark back, you heard a voice cutting through the tension.

“Stop flirting and concentrate, Luce,” Hannah called out, her tone half-exasperated, half-amused as she tried to organise her back line.

You could see Lucy bite her lip, her cheeks tinged pink, a slight laugh escaping her. "Yeah, Lucy, wouldn't want flirting with your incredibly sexy wife to be the reason I score now would we." You winked, sticking your tongue out as you nodded at Katie.

You charged down the wing, adrenaline rushing through your veins as you collected a beautifully weighted pass from Leah from the edge of the box. Without breaking stride, you looked up, assessing the field. Lucy and Hannah were the only Chelsea players left between you and the goal.

The options whirled in your mind in seconds. A long-range shot? It would be ambitious, a shot from barely over halfway. You were still in the centre circle, but Hannah was off her line, hovering just far enough to tempt fate. The safer play would be to drive it forward, close the distance, but Lucy was waiting, ready to close in if you tried to slip past her. You could see her watching you, ready to pounce the moment your concentration slipped.

Your eyes flicked to the goal, a decision making itself for you. Steeling yourself, you brought your leg back, letting power build. Releasing it in a controlled strike, you watched as the ball launched from your boot, a perfect arc carrying it high and fast over the field.

Hannah scrambled back, her fingertips grazing the air, but it was too late. The ball sailed over her reach and crashed into the back of the net, sending the netting rippling in glorious confirmation.

For a single, suspended heartbeat, the entire pitch seemed to hold its breath. The impossible shot hung in the air, every eye tracing its perfect arc until it dropped, nestling into the back of the net. And then, the silence shattered. Cheers exploded from the stands, a roar that rolled over the field and settled into your bones, fuelling the rush already coursing through you. You let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding, a wide grin breaking across your face as what you had just done fully set in.

Turning back, you searched the field for Lucy, anticipation bubbling up in you. When you caught her eye, her expression was priceless – caught between surprise and reluctant admiration. Her mouth opened as if to protest, but then she closed it, lips twisting into a smile that was more fond than annoyed, even if it was tinged with a hint of competitive frustration.

For a moment, neither of you said a word. You simply shared that look, the quiet acknowledgment of having pushed each other, of knowing exactly how to get under each other’s skin on the field – and of enjoying every second of it.

"Is it too much to use the red ties?" you teased, a smirk tugging at your lips as you strolled up to Lucy, your voice dripping with teasing charm.

Lucy let out an exaggerated gasp, pressing a hand to her chest like she was utterly wounded. "My pride is on the floor, and yet you still kick me when I'm down!" she replied, though her eyes sparkled with laughter, making it impossible for her to sell the act.

You laughed loudly, thoroughly undeterred by her theatrics. "What can I say? London is red after all," you replied as you stepped even closer, closing the last of the distance. Without hesitation, you slipped your arms around her waist, pulling her against you. "And your arse will be too by the time I’m done with you," you whispered, your voice dropping to a seductive murmur as your lips brushed her ear.

Lucy’s cheeks flushed that perfect shade of pink, and she gave a nervous laugh, casting a quick, cautious glance over her shoulder. “We’re still in public, you know,” she murmured, though the deepening colour in her cheeks showed she wasn’t entirely complaining.

“Oh, I know.” You looked up at her with a wicked smile, savouring the moment, not quite ready to pull away just yet.

But before you could say anything more, Leah’s voice cut through the tension, loud and teasing. “Oi, stop with the weird foreplay and go shower!” she called, casting an exaggerated eye-roll in your direction and folding her arms, though a hint of a grin tugged at her mouth.

Lucy laughed, burying her face in your shoulder for a moment, clearly amused and a little embarrassed. With a small sigh, she gave you a reluctant smile. “Guess that’s our cue,” she muttered, squeezing your hand before finally letting go.

[ginnsbaker]

mastermind

Summary: As your sticks fly across the drums, your eyes momentarily scan the crowd, taking in the faces, the movements, the ecstatic energy. And then, in the flickering club lights, you spot her // …or the one where you find Wanda in the crowd during your band's gig, only to discover there's much more to her than you initially thought.

Word count: 5.2K+ | Tags: Smut (18+), Fluff, Oral and fingering (W receiving), Squirting, Overstimulation, Meet-cute, Drummer!Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Requested by anon. I got carried a way for a bit and took a few liberties. Hope you like it!

-

You almost didn’t make it for tonight’s gig. 

Still recovering from the flu you caught last week, you were close to letting Kate fill in on the drums. That is, until Yelena begged you not to let her girlfriend botch a sold-out evening.

The tension backstage is thicker than Bucky’s pre-show smoothie, and, given the mishmash of green ingredients, that's saying something.

“I'm just saying, letting Kate drum tonight is like giving a cat a keyboard and expecting Bonham,” Yelena says, gesturing wildly with her hands.

“Continue talking and you might not have a girlfriend by the end of your next sentence!” Kate huffs, spinning on her heel to stomp out of the area. 

You sip on your water, trying to keep your hydration levels up but also stifle a chuckle. This isn’t the first time Yelena’s protective streak has clashed with Kate's overenthusiastic approach to... well, everything. Natasha is trying, and failing, to keep a straight face, while Bucky seems to have found sudden interest in the intricate patterns on his boots. 

Your head is throbbing, the remnants of the flu still gnawing at your energy, but you've mustered up just enough strength to make it through tonight's set. Before Yelena or any other band member can comment further, the organizer gestures for your band to take the stage.

You take a deep breath, followed by another swig of water. It's almost showtime, and the excitement is seeping through the nerves, reminding you why you endure the endless rehearsals, sleepless nights, and yes, even the pre-show squabbles.

As you step onto the stage, the applause is deafening. The lights illuminate the sea of faces before you, and you can see the familiar glint of excitement in the eyes of returning fans mixed with the curious expressions of first-timers.

Bucky approaches the mic, flashing his signature charming smile at the crowd. “Good evening, everyone! We’re ecstatic to see so many familiar faces and new ones too! We've got a great set for you tonight, but before we start, let's give a big shoutout to Y/N here, who's powering through the flu to be with us tonight!” The crowd roars in appreciation, and you can't help but wave sheepishly, a tentative smile stretching across your face.

Natasha strums the opening chords of the first song, her fingers dancing effortlessly over the strings. Yelena, momentarily forgetting her earlier spat with Kate, loses herself in the rhythm, the bassline syncing perfectly with your drumbeat. The music flows, each note hitting the right spots, the synergy between band members mesmerizing the audience.

As your sticks fly across the drums, your eyes momentarily scan the crowd, taking in the faces, the movements, the ecstatic energy.

And then, in the flickering club lights, you spot her.

There's a brunette, her hair cascading down, dancing like she was born for this exact moment. The way she sways and lets loose to the rhythm—it's captivating.

But it's when she turns around that your heart nearly leaps out of your chest. Her eyes meet yours, and the world seems to slow down for a moment. Those intense, deep-set eyes pull you in, making it impossible to look away. They're filled with an emotion that's hard to pinpoint: intrigue, curiosity, maybe even a hint of challenge. The message is clear—she's noticed you, just as much as you've noticed her. 

She doesn't break the gaze, and as her hips move in tune with your beats, there's a silent communication happening. Your hands, despite the rising temperature of the room, feel cold against the drumsticks. It's a battle to maintain your rhythm and not lose yourself under her spell.

Natasha, catching the look on your face, leans in during a brief instrumental break. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you reply, attempting to refocus. Your distraction had almost caused you to miss a beat or two. 

Your eyes are locked onto the brunette once more as she starts grinding against her friend, her movements confident, sultry, and unapologetically magnetic. It's the sort of dancing that would have any person within the perimeter drooling on the spot. Usually, you'd shy away from openly watching someone move so suggestively, but you find yourself completely mesmerized.

As the next song kicks off, you throw in some extra flash on the drums, just to see if she'll play along. And sure enough, with every fancy beat you drop, she dances right to it. It's like you're both in this unspoken challenge, seeing who can outdo the other. Your fingers grip the drumsticks tighter, and you can feel the heat rising on your face.

That's when Natasha glances in the same direction and catches on. “Well, well, looks like someone's got a fan,” she murmurs with a wink, her voice barely audible over the booming speakers.

You roll your eyes, trying to play it cool, but the dryness in your mouth betrays your nonchalance. “Just playing my part,” you quip, though you're keenly aware that your concentration tonight is split between the drums and the mesmerizing dancer.

Yelena, following the exchange between you and Natasha, leans in from the bass guitar, raising an eyebrow. “Who's got you all hot and bothered?”

“Shut up, Yel,” you retort. With cheeks aflame, you try to shove Yelena’s teasing aside, to focus solely on the music coursing through your veins. However, the allure of the brunette is a magnet you can’t seem to resist.

As the beat picks up, so does the pace of your heart, hammering against your chest with every enthralling movement she makes. She is intoxicating, and you’re utterly spellbound.

During the bridge, you hit a sour note—a misstep that rarely happens—and Bucky gives you a dirty look from across the stage. He’s a perfectionist when it comes to the music, and you mouth a silent “sorry” before forcing your eyes away from the captivating sight in the crowd.

But not before catching her reaction.

She's laughing, her eyes alight with impishness, and you'd swear she's looking right at you. There's a knowing smile on her lips that suggests she knows exactly the effect she’s had on you. It’s both mortifying and exhilarating.

You try to keep to the side, hiding behind cymbals and drums, but it's impossible to shake the sensation of being observed. It's like she's got a spotlight aimed right at you, and you're center stage. Every moment you resist looking her way feels like an eternity, but every time you feel the pull to glance in her direction, Yelena’s earlier tease flares in your mind, keeping your eyes stubbornly on Bucky’s flashy shoes.

As the last song fades and the applause rolls in, you set down your drumsticks, nerves and excitement warring within you. You don't hang around for Bucky's wrap-up speech. Instead, you hustle to get backstage.

-

To everyone's shock, you decide to stick around after the gig. You're usually the most introverted one in the group and never do this.

Natasha sidles up to you, a teasing smirk on her lips. “So, about that girl you couldn't take your eyes off of...?”

You attempt to play it cool, but your nervous fidgeting with your drumsticks gives you away. “What girl?” you ask, feigning ignorance.

Bucky snorts in amusement, a wicked grin stretching across his face. “The one you were practically eye-fucking the entire set? Thought you were gonna jump off stage and grab her right there.”

You're now the shade of a ripe tomato, desperately searching for a diversion. “You guys are seeing things,” you mumble, avoiding their amused gazes.

“Honestly, I was half-expecting her to throw a bra onstage or something, the way you were gawking,” Yelena chirps in.

“Enough,” you protest weakly, your voice drowned out by the laughter of your bandmates.

Just as you're about to slip away to the bar for a breather, a waiter approaches you with a drink in hand. “Compliments of the lady over there,” he says, nodding towards a dim corner of the club.

You peer in the direction he's indicating but can't make out who it's from. The drink looks fancy, possibly alcoholic. Glancing at the waiter, you inform him, “I can't drink alcohol right now, but thank you.”

Natasha snatches it from the tray. “Well, if you're not taking it, it's mine.”

Bucky laughs. “Is everyone in this club trying to woo our drummer tonight?”

You roll your eyes at them, trying not to dwell on the mystery woman. However, it's not long before the same waiter returns, this time holding a simple glass of lemonade. “The lady noticed you weren’t drinking the cocktails and thought you might prefer this.”

Your curiosity almost gets the better of you, but the memories of the striking brunette dancing to your beats earlier still linger fresh in your mind. You opt not to scour the club's corners to spot who's sending the drinks. Instead, you lift the lemonade in a thankful gesture, aiming it in the general direction of where the waiter had pointed, and offer a polite, appreciative smile into the dim.

Natasha teases, “Playing hard to get, huh?”

You shrug and take a sip from your drink. “Just soaking in the night and the rewards of our hard work,” you remark, patting the pocket where you tucked away the cash from tonight's gig. “Isn't that what we're here for?”

-

An hour later, the club's neon and strobe lights continue to play tricks on your eyes, turning every brunette head you spot into a potential sighting. Each time, however, it’s not her.

Bucky's animated conversation about a new track he's been working on fades into the background. Natasha keeps throwing you knowing glances, but doesn't press. It's Yelena who finally comments, probably having had enough of your desolate puppy-dog look. She nudges you with her elbow, Kate giggling drunkenly by her side. Yelena's arm is protectively around Kate, but her sharp gaze is all on you.

“You know, you won't find her by just sulking here and gazing at every brunette that walks past. You gotta move,” she challenges, her tone equal parts bored and encouraging.

Kate, in her slightly inebriated state, adds with a giggle, “Yeah, go get her, tiger!”

“It's not that easy, you know,” you sigh, brooding over your drink. “Plus, what if she's not even interested?”

Yelena's smirk is almost predatory. “From what I saw? Trust me, she's interested. Now go.”

With a resigned sigh, you push yourself up from the booth. Steeling yourself, you start weaving your way through the crowd, using your slightly sober advantage to maneuver past intoxicated dancers. You scan every corner and table as you walk past, even though there's a nagging feeling in your gut that she might have already left the club.

It’s after what feels like an eternity that you spot a familiar cascade of brunette locks by the bar. She’s engaged in what appears to be an animated conversation with a tall, equally striking man. However, her posture—shoulders slightly hunched, eyes darting around—suggests that she’s far from comfortable.

The protective instinct kicks in before you can talk yourself out of it. Closing the distance, you position yourself between her and the persistent guy, offering her a way out. “Hey there,” you say, smoothly, your voice loud enough to be heard over the clamor. “I've been looking for you. Sorry I'm late.”

She catches on immediately, her relief evident as she steps closer to you, away from the guy. “There you are! I was starting to worry,” she plays along, giving you a swift kiss on the cheeks that has your eyes widening for a second and breaking character. Thankfully, the guy doesn’t notice your blunder, and sensing he's lost this battle, scowls and retreats into the crowd.

Turning to her, you can't help the grin that finds its way to your face. “Sorry for that, I wanted to help, but I didn’t also want to cause any trouble.”

She smiles back, her eyes gleaming in the club lights. “Thank you for the save. I was about to resort to more drastic measures.”

The banter between you flows naturally, the awkward ice broken by the unusual circumstance of your first interaction. “I'm Y/N,” you offer, extending a hand.

“Wanda,” she says, taking your hand. Her grip is firm and her hand warm against yours. It sends a jolt of electricity up your arm. Only now do you notice her eyes, the shade of green in them, and the way they reveal so much yet nothing at all. Just like that, you fall a little deeper into her trap.

“Wanda,” you repeat, tasting the name on your tongue as if trying it out. Your smile broadens instinctively, and she catches it, her nose scrunching up bashfully.

“What?” she asks.

“Oh, nothing,” you chuckle nervously, rubbing the back of your neck. “I just think it's a beautiful name. Fits someone as beautiful as you.”

She blushes, and you can't help but inwardly high five yourself for making her smile like that. She looks away for a moment, trying to hide her smile but fails miserably, and you find it endearing.

“Thank you, Y/N,” she says, her eyes meeting yours once more, a shy smile on her lips.

The night unfolds seamlessly from there. You find a quiet corner away from the crowd, where the music is a distant thump, allowing conversation to flow freely.

“So, when did you start drumming?” Wanda asks, leaning in a bit, genuinely seeming interested in your answer. You try your best to stay calm as you feel the heat radiate from her body.

“Believe it or not, I started a bit late, around twelve,” you reply, smiling at the memory of your younger self, awkwardly trying to grasp the drumsticks. “But I played the guitar first, picked it up when I was just five.”

Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Wow, so you're a multi-instrumentalist?”

You shrug, trying to appear nonchalant, but can't help the proud grin that creeps onto your face. “Something like that. But I mainly stick to drums in the band.”

She tilts her head, her eyes shining with interest. “Why don't you play the guitar for the band then?”

“Natasha's better than me on the guitar. She's got this incredible flair and finesse. I mean, I'm good, but she's... amazing.”

Wanda nods, absorbing the information, “I've heard her play, she really is. But I'm sure you're just as great.”

You laugh, “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Then, taking a sip of your drink, you add, “Playing the guitar actually helps a lot when I'm writing our songs.”

“Wait, you write the songs?”

“Most of them,” you confirm, trying to sound as modest as you can be. “It's a collaborative effort, of course. But yeah, having a knowledge of multiple instruments, especially the guitar, helps lay the foundation for many of our tracks.”

Wanda looks at you, clearly impressed. “That's incredible, Y/N. No wonder your music feels so... personal. It's like you're telling a story with every song.”

“You’ve listened to our songs before?” you ask, mildly surprised.

Wanda nods sheepishly, as if caught harboring a guilty secret. “I might have, a few times... I definitely came here tonight to see you guys perform.” 

She then places a hand on your knee, and all at once, your throat feels parched. She scoots closer to you, to speak directly into your ear. “I wish I could see you play the guitar for me.”

You swallow hard. Her suggestion has certainly crossed your mind several times throughout the conversation. “Actually,” you begin, trying to steady your voice, “we keep our instruments in the back of the van. If you're interested, I could... play something for you?”

Wanda pulls back slightly to meet your eyes, looking like she wasn’t expecting you to actually agree to give her a private performance. “Really? Now?”

You nod, then stand and extend your hand to her, grinning. “Ready for a show?”

-

This isn’t exactly the kind of show you had in mind when you led Wanda to the back of the van. But you’re just twenty seconds into the new song you’ve been working on when she grabs your face with both hands and draws you in for a ferocious kiss. It’s a kiss that you haven’t tasted in a while—completely unrestrained.

You're lucky the drum set hasn't been loaded up yet, and with Bucky's keyboard being used by the current band onstage, there's just the right amount of space. Taking advantage, you push Wanda onto her back without breaking away from the kiss.

You pull away just enough to ask, “Are you sure?” while Wanda starts to slide your jacket down your arms.

Wanda nods impatiently, tracing her tongue along the underside of your chin, clearly enjoying the reaction she provokes.

“Was that a yes?” you prod, sitting up. Wanda sighs, albeit a bit irritably, only because you're suddenly out of her reach, before she collects herself enough to answer, “Yes, Y/N, I'm sure.”

“It's just that... I usually don’t do this,” you confess, looking down in embarrassment.

Your heart is pounding so loudly you're sure Wanda can hear it, especially with the way she's studying you intently. You can feel the heat creep up your neck, coloring your cheeks a deep shade of pink. This isn't typically your scene, and you wonder if she's regretting her decision.

But then, with a move that’s smooth and tender, Wanda slides her fingers under your chin, lifting your head to meet her gaze. Her eyes aren't filled with judgment or mockery, but with genuine understanding and something else you can't quite place.

“I find it... sexy,” she murmurs. “It’s refreshing, actually. Everything about you feels genuine. It's rare to find someone not playing games.”

Your eyes widen a fraction. That wasn't the reaction you'd been expecting.

She smirks a little at your expression, that hint of mischief returning. “Did you think admitting you're a little inexperienced would scare me off? If anything, it makes this even more exciting.”

“I'm not exactly 'inexperienced',” you argue with a bashful smile.

Her voice drops to a whisper, making your breath catch, and she inches just a bit closer. “I'm sure about this, Y/N. The back of a van might not be a romantic scene from a movie, but…” she breathes, and then she makes sure you feel every word she’s going to say next being spoken in your ear. “But right now? I swear, I might just go crazy if you don't touch me.”

Her statement stokes the fire between your legs and acting on the pull you feel, you lean in, hesitating just for a fraction of a second before capturing her lips with yours. Wanda lets out a soft, sultry moan as you deepen the kiss, your tongue boldly seeking entrance. She grants it, and you're immediately intoxicated, not just by the taste of the vodka she's been sipping on, but by Wanda herself. The way she feels, the way she responds—it's all consuming.

She tilts her head, granting you better access, and you take the opportunity to explore every inch of her mouth. The gentle tang of the alcohol is present but overshadowed by her own unique flavor, which is even more intoxicating. You can feel her hands resting on your shoulders, fingers gripping you with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.

Wanda's breath hitches sharply as you confidently take charge. You yank her shirt off in one quick move, and she's laid bare under the soft street lights. Outside, some party is still in full swing, but in here, it's all about the uninhibited hunger between the two of you.

You slip your fingers to the back of her bra, fumbling just a moment before unhooking it, revealing her. Not wasting any time, you dive in, taking her nipple in your mouth, savoring it. The sensation drives her wild, and she arches her back, pushing herself deeper against you with a throaty moan.

Her fingers grip your hair, guiding and sometimes just pulling when she needs more. Every sound she makes, every pull of her fingers, gets you more revved up. It's intense, it's messy, but it's all too real.

As your hands venture lower, you notice her pupils dilate and her breathing grow uneven.

“You still sure?” you whisper, releasing her nipple with a wet pop. She responds with a desperate whine, pressing her hips closer to yours.

“Use your words, baby girl,” you murmur, nipping at her pulse point.

“Yes, yes, yes…” she answers breathlessly. “Please, Y/N.”

Your fingers playfully glide over her entrance, teasing her, “So wet for me,” you marvel, pressing a firm kiss to her neck. Your fingers dip inside her just slightly, pulling back out to further tease her.

“It's too bad I don't have my strap with me,” you groan, grinding against her thigh, letting her feel how turned on you are. “You'd look so pretty, taking it all.”

Her breathing hitches, “God, I wish you had it too.”

Wanda’s whines intensify, a sweet sound of pure desperation, as you suddenly remove your fingers from her. “Why did you—” she starts to complain, but you silence her with a searing kiss.

“I want to see all of you,” you murmur against her lips. Her skirt is the next target, and you fumble with the zipper, eager to remove the barrier between your hands and her skin. However, as you're about to pull down her underwear, a thought strikes you. Looking around the back of the van, you remember how it's been used for hauling equipment, and the floor isn't exactly pristine.

Thinking quickly, you grab your jacket and lay it out beneath her, ensuring she's on a cleaner surface. “Always got to take care of my girl,” you wink at her, trying to lighten the moment.

“Your girl?” Wanda echoes, her eyes half-lidded, a playful smile curling on her lips.

You realize your slip-up a beat too late, but then, her underwear and skirt are swiftly discarded, and she lies there, beautifully exposed to your hungry gaze.

“You're breathtaking,” you whisper in awe.

She flushes under your gaze. “I could say the same for you,” she murmurs, pulling you closer.

Your eyes roam her body, the soft curves and inviting skin, particularly where she's most sensitive. But you've always been one for asking. 

“Can I taste you?” The question leaves your lips, whispered against the skin of her inner thigh, making her shiver.

She responds with a needy, “Yes, please,” and bites her bottom lip, arching her hips slightly, as if laying herself bare for your indulgence.

You don't waste any more time. Shuffling down, you position yourself between her legs, the aromatic scent of her arousal filling your senses. Carefully, you part her folds with your fingers, your tongue darting out to collect the first taste. The first touch of your tongue against her wetness draws a sharp inhale from her, followed by a moan that has your ears burning from how shameless it sounds.

Your tongue swirls around her swollen nub, establishing a pattern that has her thighs clenching around your head. “Fucky, right there,” she groans, her hips thrusting up, eager to meet each glide and flick of your tongue. The wet sounds of your mouth paired with her whimpers urge you to sneak a hand beneath your jeans, seeking relief for your own building tension.

Her hands tighten in your hair, pulling you closer, almost as if she's trying to mold you to her. “More, right there... Oh, god!” she cries out, providing the exact guidance you need.

Amused by her reactions, you intentionally draw out a slurping sound as your tongue dives deeper, making Wanda retreat, but you abandon your own need for release to grab her ass and pull her back to your mouth. 

“Y/N, please, please, I’m—”

“You like that, don't you?” you tease, voice husky with lust. “You sound so pretty when you beg.”

She keens, a desperate sound, her fingers tightening their grip on your hair. You're relentless, enjoying every second of her unraveling, and she's close—so close.

“Are you going to come for me, Wanda?” you growl, lost in the intoxicating taste of her, pressing your tongue deeper, seeking out every intimate spot that makes her body jolt and writhe above you. Her voice breaks into a high-pitched cry, “Y/N! I'm—I'm—” and you feel her climax, her entire body shaking with the force of it, her wetness dripping from your chin down to your throat, drenching you in the process. 

Wanda's gasps fill the space as she shudders, the aftershocks of her orgasm leaving her body trembling. A wicked grin spreads across your face as you take in the sight of her, completely spent and vulnerable. She squirms beneath your mouth, trying to escape the onslaught of sensations. “Too much,” she pants, her voice hoarse.

Ignoring her plea, you continue your ministrations, lips and tongue working in tandem, driving her to the brink once more. As you feel her tensing up, preparing to escape your relentless assault, you slip two fingers inside her, feeling the tight clench of her around you. The unexpected intrusion steals her breath and the fight from her limbs, her resistance melting under your touch.

“You want more, don't you?” you murmur before your lips find her clit again. 

The van is starting to smell like sex. You know you'll have to do something about this later, but for now, you can't bring yourself to care as you take in every detail of the naked girl before you. The pleasure is almost overwhelming for Wanda, teetering on the edge of pain, but she feels another climax building deep inside her.

“Y/N!” she cries, her grip on your hair tightening, her back arching. “I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum!”

You don't stop, doubling your efforts, fingers and tongue working in sync, driving her up and beyond any point she's ever known. Suddenly, there's a gush, wetter and warmer than before, surprising you both. You pull back slightly, and she looks down, mortified. Her face turns a deep shade of red, and she tries to squirm out from beneath you.

“I'm so sorry... I—” Wanda stammers, scrambling to hide her face in her hands.

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, a smirk forming on your lips. “Wanda, that was... incredibly hot.”

She looks away, still trying to process what just happened. “I didn’t... I've never...”

Sitting up, you gently cup her face, making her look at you. “Hey, it’s alright,” you say softly, trying to reassure her. “Don't be embarrassed. I'm honored that you felt comfortable enough with me to let go completely.”

She gives a shaky laugh, her fingers lightly tracing circles on your chest. “I can't believe you made me do that on the first try.”

“And I’m extremely lucky to be able to,” you say with a chuckle, gently brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face.

She blushes for a moment, then says, “I noticed you didn’t... you know. Do you want me to...?”

“Next time,” you promise, pressing a tender kiss on her forehead. “Right now, I need to make sure this van doesn’t end up as evidence of our... activities.” You wink, earning a soft giggle from her.

“Besides, I have to admit, I thoroughly enjoyed watching you fall apart because of me,” you add, mischievously wetting your lips.

She blushes, playfully swatting at your arm. “You're impossible.”

-

You were the first to step out of the van, offering Wanda a moment of privacy to get dressed. When she finally emerges, she leans on you for support. “I can't feel my legs,” she jokes, struggling a bit. She hands you your jacket which you'd forgotten, helping you slip it on. Immediately, the scent of her hits you, reminding you that she had climaxed twice on that very fabric.

Before you can dwell on the thought, a man approaches Wanda. It’s the same guy from earlier, the one she was arguing with at the bar. You instinctively square your shoulders, ready to step in between them, protectively, but Wanda halts you with a hand on your chest.

“Pietro!” Wanda exclaims, letting out an exasperated sigh as she utters her brother's name. You halt, puzzled.

She knows this guy?

Pietro looks at Wanda, then at you, his eyes narrowing for a moment. “You ready to go, Wanda?” he asks, clearly impatient.

She turns to you, giving you a soft, apologetic smile. “Y/N, this is my brother, Pietro.”

You swallow dryly, offering a somewhat clammy hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Pietro just eyes your hand, perhaps connecting the dots from earlier. Feeling like an idiot, you quickly pull your hand back, subtly rubbing it against your pants. He departs without another word, muttering to Wanda, “I'll be in the car. Don't keep me waiting too long.”

Wanda watches Pietro go, her smile fading a bit. Turning back to you, she takes a deep breath. “Okay, so, about earlier,” she starts, biting her lower lip nervously. “I might have, um... staged that whole fight thing to get your attention. He wasn’t too thrilled about the idea, but he played along.” Her eyes dart to the ground, avoiding your gaze.

You blink, processing her confession. Before you can come up with any coherent response, she giggles at the dumbfounded expression on your face. “I really have to go,” she says.

And then, before you can react, she plants a featherlight kiss on your cheek. The warmth of it lingers on your skin as she steps back, her eyes holding yours for a long, sweet moment.

“Thank you,” she whispers, her eyes glistening under the soft moonlight. “Tonight was... unexpected, but amazing.”

And with that, she turns and hurries off to where Pietro is waiting for her by a parked car. You stand there, feeling the spot on your cheek where her lips touched, watching her until she hops into the car and drives off into the night. It’s only after the car disappears around the bend that you mentally kick yourself for forgetting to ask for her number. With a sigh, you turn back to your van, resigned to cleaning up.

The chill of the night settles in, and when you slip your hands into your jacket pockets, your fingers catch a scrap of paper. It feels out of place, foreign to the usual belongings you stash in there. You pull it out, and to your surprise, it's a receipt. The drinks listed there jog a memory: an alcoholic cocktail offered to you earlier in the night which you politely declined, and the tangy lemonade that followed right after.

Realization dawns on you. Wanda had been orchestrating things all night. You flip the receipt over and your heart skips a beat. Scrawled at the back in a neat, cursive handwriting is her number, accompanied by a simple message: “Call me soon.”

Grinning like a fool, you grab a cloth and some disinfectant from the compartment. Cleaning the back of a van has never felt this satisfying.

[demigod-shenanigans]

Re: Reyna joining the Hunters and why I think it’s actually really depressing

So for a variety of reasons I’m not a huge fan of Reyna’s arc ending with her joining the Hunters of Artemis. Part of that is rrverse characters should be allowed to be single without joining the eternal celibacy club, but that’s not a problem exclusive to Reyna. I also think handling asexuality in the context of celibacy by choice is… messy by default, especially if it’s your one confirmed ace character.

Beyond that, though, there’s a bunch of context surrounding Reyna’s life and personality that just make that choice seem really sad to me?

I’ll split this into three thematic subsections and put the second and third one under the cut because this got pretty long

Reyna and her sense of duty:

I highly suspect Reyna’s fatal flaw is her sense of duty. This is never explicitly confirmed (because no one except Percy and Annabeth has confirmed fatal flaws), but duty is the theme her entire character revolves around. Basically from birth she’s raised to believe the fate of New Rome lies on her shoulders. A lot of her actions in the books explicitly link back to her sense of duty.

She runs herself ragged trying to find Jason and trying to manage a job made for two people on her own before Son of Neptune.

A lot of her conflict stems from the fact that what is necessary to protect her home (leaving her post and following Jason) inherently clashes with the rules of that home.

Reyna also actively chides others (like Lavinia in ToA) for leaving their posts and not sharing that same sense of duty.

Because of this, like Jason, Reyna is never really able to be a kid.

Joining the Hunters sort of does a good thing in that it allows Reyna to gain some distance specifically from New Rome, which her fate and also a lot of her trauma regarding her upbringing revolves around.

But it doesn’t allow her to be a kid any more than being a praetor at Camp Jupiter did. Potentially less so, actually, seeing as the Hunters are basically always on the move doing something important while at Camp Jupiter you probably have regular days off and a city to visit and relax in always right around the corner.

Reyna lays down one duty and immediately commits herself to the next one. She doesn’t grow and learn that she doesn’t have to carry the fate of the world on her shoulders. She just trades one burden for another.

—————————

Reyna and her emotions:

The timing of Reyna’s choice to join the Hunters seems really off. New Rome is mostly destroyed and just suffered a catastrophic amount of losses. Reyna absolutely has a right to step down as a leader, but this seems like an odd time for her to do it, especially considering she just completely up and leaves instead of at least sticking around to help rebuild her home and then join the Hunters after. As someone so fundamentally defined by her duties and her loyalty to New Rome, why does she spend half a day off-screen and then suddenly decide actually she’ll leave her destroyed home and all those grieving people for someone else to deal with? It just seems really out of character for her.

This begs the question: is Reyna really making that choice because she figured out it’s what she wants, or is it because she can’t deal with what happened? Because looking at all the destruction and attending all the funerals—deaths that happened while she was technically in charge but unable to be present, people she was supposed to protect—reminds her of every way she’s failed her home?

Also, Jason just died.

Jason was Reyna’s best friend for years. He was the first person she allowed herself to grow close to after her sister left her, and very possibly the first person she ever fell in love with. She never properly got to make up with Jason. Very likely they were both afraid to be hurt again. They both thought there’d be time for it later. But there wasn’t. There isn’t. She only got her best friend back in a coffin, and even in death, returning to New Rome (to her) wasn’t Jason’s choice.

Reyna leaves the place where they grew up together, the duties they used to share and all the memories—memories that were just hers, no longer his, since he never properly got them back—two days after she watched his pyre burn.

How much of that is her leaving because she wants to, and how much of it is the fact that she can’t keep her walls up and keep herself going in the place that used to be theirs, where Jason’s ghost is staring back at her at every corner? How much of her leaving is her unwillingness to deal with her grief?

Reyna running away from her feelings is an ongoing theme. It makes sense from a lot of different angles why she’d do it.

She was raised by an abusive father who often turned his feelings (what child Reyna would have seen as “love”, but was primarily paranoia/anger) against her and Hylla.

It’s also addressed directly that Reyna worries if she feels nervous or scared, her emotions will cause the camp to worry as well—her power is quite literally to project her own emotions outward, so if she does that with negative emotions (intentionally or unintentionally), it would cause problems. Suppressing them feels safer. On top of that, in her role as a leader, she has to provide a certain sense of confidence and assurance even when she herself doesn’t feel it.

Joining the Hunters instead of facing those feelings is not exactly a great way to heal in that regard.

————————

Reyna and the weight of Bellona’s prophecy:

As far as we’re aware, Camp Jupiter has faced more threats in the few years Reyna was in charge than it has in centuries. First the Titan war (which Reyna must have arrived partway through, depending on how early the Romans even knew about and were involved in what was happening there), then the war with Gaia, then the Emperors.

And obviously that’s not actually Reyna’s fault—Reyna is, in fact, a huge contributing factor to why these disasters weren’t a lot worse and didn’t claim even more lives. But this is all put on the shoulders of a girl who knows her fate is intricately linked to the legacy of Rome.

A girl who is already convinced that her love is fundamentally destructive and keeps other people from being happy. Her father spent her entire childhood suspicious of Reyna potentially betraying him—and, because she ended up killing him in self-defense, it’s very easy for a traumatized ten year old to internalize that maybe that suspicion was totally warranted. Then Circe’s Island gets destroyed. Then Hylla finds her happiness with the Amazons by leaving Reyna. Then Jason leaves her, seeming so much happier with Piper and Leo than he ever was with her.

Everyone she loves always seems to be happier without her.

So maybe the best thing she can do for New Rome—a home that she loves and that has faced so much destruction in the short time she’s spent there—is to leave.

Maybe the best way to keep New Rome safe (because New Rome’s survival is linked to Hylla and Reyna’s bloodline continuing to exist) is to make herself immortal and preserve it that way. Because, unless Reyna dies in battle, she could live centuries—potentially thousands of years—as a Hunter. She can’t ever properly go back to the home she loved, because that’s not how the Hunters work. But she’s still bound to her fate by her blood. She’s still doing her duty to New Rome by living as long as she can.

It’s not something she can ever be free of.

The worst thing about this is I think Reyna choosing to find a fate for herself outside of New Rome could have actually been a great way to conclude her arc, but god do I wish it was executed differently and actually given proper exploration/space to breathe instead of just resolved by taking her off-screen for a few hours and then sticking her with the group of female warriors that barely gets to have any plot relevance outside of conveniently coming to people’s rescue.

[sfznyxio]

-ˋˏ FOR EVERYTHING THERE IS A SEASON ˎˊ

SYNOPSIS. everything happens for a reason. sometimes, in a way that is unexpected.

CHARACTERS. bronya, dan heng, gepard, jing yuan, sampo, seele, serval 

CONTENT. gn!reader. modern au. angst, fluff. seasonal romance. meet cute or meet ugly, or something other than that. 0.6k wc. rewrite of i’ll carry the sun in my heart at my old main blog @/verxsyon. arranged marriage (bronya). unrequited love (gepard). yanqing is jing yuan’s son. one night stand (sampo).

VERA. last fic of the year! thank you all for supporting me, especially when i moved from my old blog of almost 4 years. i have so many ideas in store for 2025 and will try my best to get those going, assuming i don't get fucked over my internship... ahaha.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. BRONYA

a sheltered heiress who is secretly a thrill seeker. every night, she sneaks into an underground club where she hangs around with the only person who doesn’t treat her any differently despite her status. on her very last visit, she reveals will be married off soon and her mother discovered her escapades, forbidding her from such activities. it doesn't stop you from crashing the wedding and presenting a fake, cheap ring to object to the marriage, having you as her spouse instead.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. DAN HENG

a tenant under your grandparents and assistant of their small business. his aloof personality intimidates you at first, not much of a talker as he accompanies you around your grandparents’ residence. but there’s more to him than meets the eye. his nightmares catch up the moment he falls for you, and has to repress it to keep you safe. the more he pushes away, the more he wants to yell for help. you hate to come home with a guilty conscience.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. GEPARD

an estranged friend who has been serving the military, and is spending off-duty at home. you haven’t seen him in years, so it’s expected to start off awkwardly, although the two of you are glad to see each other again. besides reuniting with old friends and family, he wishes to resolve his biggest regret: being unable to confess his love for you. maybe it should stay a secret forever when you introduce your fiancé, and all he can do is congratulate you.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. JING YUAN

a playful businessman who visits the bar for his new favorite bartender. your coworker is gone for the entire summer, so you become the target of his flirting. at this point you’ve known the guy for a while, except he has a son who you’ve met at the bar, both terrible in acting and flirting. soon his infamous father arrives, not surprised that his son is there and is happy that he finally met you, his “partner”. perhaps you’ll await an explanation on your date.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. SAMPO

a thief who stole your precious belongings along with your virginity one fateful night. you’re set to finish your bucket list before moving out, but it’s no thanks to a certain someone that you don’t have enough funds. he sees you being the nearest person and pulls you into an alleyway to hide from the police. recognizing each other, he offers to help you with your bucket list as a deal. not only did he steal your stuff, he stole your heart as well. 

𝄞༉‧₊˚. SEELE

a free spirit with a rebellious streak. she’s invited to a road trip, viewing it as an opportunity to assess her strengths and explore places she never traveled before. the beginning of your relationship with her starts rocky, clashing with you about miniscule things, and your friends try their best to diffuse the situation. if those arguments teach you one thing, it is the fact that she’s honest. the only thing she isn’t is when it has to do with her crush on you, and she hopes the arguments will come in handy.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. SERVAL

a fairly popular musician whose name you never heard of until a friend drags you to attend her concert. forced to listen to her setlist before the big day, you gradually become a fan and are able to memorize some of the lyrics. while outside one day, you’re so in the moment that a stylish woman excitedly says she recognizes the music. the brief exchange gets you her contact info and gratitude for your support. you recognize who she is now.

[doromoni]

Clash of Champions | MV1 , LH44

Act 2. Part 6 : The Truth Unraveling

Ships : Max Verstappen x Engineer! Reader, Lewis Hamilton x Engineer! Reader

Genre : Drama, Angst, Romance

Warning : Morally Grey Characters, Manipulation, Blackmail, Swearing

A/N : Rahhhh! I’m so sorry for taking so long to update, forgive me.

Summary : The rivalry between the titans of Formula 1 goes off track and only one will reign victorious.

< Previous Masterlist

Act 2. ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Distinguished, proud, and dignified are words paralleled to the motorhome of Mercedes Amg Petronas F1 team. The team where this era’s champions are bred and trained. It was the model of what a Formula 1 team should be.

However, this is all in the perception of the common fan —a facade carefully built for the media and their sponsors. In reality everything was far from it. Manipulation, deceit, and sketchy dealings are rampant behind closed doors. Rumors and slander come out of that place on the daily. And in the world of Formula 1 when scandals arise, however unjust and cruel — a person is guilty until proven. That was the deal.

All are well aware of such a notion. And when Mercedes had posted an official statement about Y/N L/N’s supposed lawsuit. The entirety of motorsport was in shock and disbelief. Many were convinced about the allegations and had petitioned for your removal from the sport, while the few who had actually known you had stood by your integrity and your character as a person.

In an instant, your years of hard work were put under a microscope and are being devalued to its foundations. Your presence as a woman in motorsports was already a hot matter, and some are only waiting for you to trip. And now they have the opportunity to discredit you.

Inside the motorhome of Mercedes, chatters and whispers littered every corner and every wall. Not one Mercedes employee wasn't talking about the topic of Y/N L/N’s lawsuit. With them insulting your name — most of which are the engineers who were envious of your success. Nevertheless, in the darkness there are some fireflies where they light up the night by a fraction. These are the people who actually directly worked with you… they were not your friends, but they cannot diminish your work as they saw it first hand.

And they were the people who saw the change in Lewis Hamilton upon your departure from the team. They knew that you and Lewis were dating, but they kept it to themselves. They were not blind nor were they stupid, but why should they care? The team was winning, that was all that mattered.

However, when you left and went to Red Bull and became Max Verstappen’s engineer — they watched as Lewis lost himself bit by bit. First came anger and agitation, Lewis was livid inside the motorhome, snapping at everyone and everything. Then day by day every ounce of spark had drained from the driver’s body, leaving a hollow vessel behind. He no longer went out drinking with the team, no more parties and galas, no more women.

Until that one fateful day where everyone was mandated to celebrate in a club chosen by their boss specifically out of nowhere. Lewis was with the other drivers only nursing a single drink in his hand. Up to, late that night when he looked out of it and a girl was in his arms kissing him feverishly. They thought that Lewis was back to his partying playboy personality.

However they were gravely mistaken, as the morning after Lewis was back to the hollow and empty version of himself and he went on racing on autopilot. Another drastic change had happened to Lewis Hamilton that got the team on their toes — Lewis Hamilton was suddenly filled with determination and resolve , for what? They did not know. Not till they heard of the news of the party in Monaco where Y/N L/N had Max Verstappen wrapped around her finger and had made a fool out of their boss.

Lewis came back a man with a purpose, it was as if he was in his rookie years filled with so much resolve and focus to prove himself. And they could only point all of this to one person. The person who turned their motorhome upside down — Y/N L/N.

And so , when they’ve gotten news about the lawsuit, they immediately informed Lewis.

He was already on edge from his loss to Max in the race and he was furious at your exchange of affection with Max on the podium. Lewis was not angry with you. How could he? You were his light.It was his fault for letting you go into the arms of the enemy. He knew that it was his mistake for taking you for granted. Lewis knew that he should’ve loved you and came clean when he had you. You would’ve understood… Lewis knew that you would. He knew you – he was sure of it.

Lewis knew that he should’ve told you the truth and confessed his sins… be he was too ashamed and guilty for what he has done to you. Ultimately, he was terrified that you would never forgive him for what he had agreed to do. He was afraid that you would’ve left when you came to know that his relationship with you was tailored by Toto Wolff. But you had already left him for an entirely different reason.

It was just supposed to be business and nothing more for the British driver but now all things were clouded as he found himself in the clutches of Love itself. Maybe it was his punishment for his selfishness and greed for success. But you cannot blame him for wanting the best for himself– after his father sacrificed so much for his dream. The temptation of Wolff’s words was a trap that he willingly went under.

Date the girl, make her content with what she had and nothing more. Tie her down and make her loyal to him and the team. Make her believe that it was him and her against the world. Keep it a secret so he would still be free.

It was easy to pretend at first– Lewis always thought that Y/N L/N had everything made easy for her. Lewis had despised that you had climbed the ladders so quickly in such a short amount of time… where he had to bear the prejudice, discrimination, bigotry and grudgingly wait, swallowing his pride for so many years at the chance in Formula 1. He hated that the pretty girl had made her way through the system without much of a hiccup.

With the plan in mind, Lewis started with flirting here and there– which Y/N had only prompted back with humor, not showing any true interest. Then came the banter, side jokes, and actually spending time together that ultimately opened the avenue of Lewis to get to know you, proving Lewis wrong of his prejudice against you. He saw himself in you, the pain and struggle that came with not fitting in with the cookie cutter image of Formula 1. Lewis Hamilton had seen your courage, tenacity, and will to prove to everyone that you belonged in the sport. In this you had earned his respect.

The friendship between the two of you bloomed. Lewis eagerly sought for your companionship and conversation, he had found a true friend in you. Then the gifts had started coming in – it was all in good heartedness at first, a true gesture of appreciation. Everything was innocent at first, Lewis had forgotten why he had approached you in the first place. That was till the big boss had reminded him of their agreement and toxified Lewis’ mind yet again – that he needed to prove himself to the world and to the team and all that. Then the flirtings came back and the intention of making Y/N his came back. And this time it was successful, Y/N had shown reciprocation to his advances.

Lewis had officially taken Y/N for himself. Lewis had enjoyed his time with you, all the memories you’ve built together from then forward were authentic and true. Through every ups and downs, you were with him. Without notice, Lewis Hamilton had unknowingly truly fallen for you. His agreement with Toto was the last thing on his mind.

However, that love was not enough to distinguish his desire for greatness. Lewis was still consumed by what the world offered. But everything became real and true way too fast for Lewis when the entry of a young Dutch driver to Formula 1 had happened. Suddenly his reign was shaken and it had clouded his judgment, even towards the person that he had loved. Lewis saw your friendly interactions with Max and he had seen you defend the young driver. In his panic, jealousy, and uncertainty, He had allowed Toto to manipulate him against the very person who had shown him love and care. He had once again allowed someone to poison his mind against you.

Lewis had started to doubt you and your love for him. He allowed the rumors and false accounts on you get to his head. And to his shame, Lewis had believed the stupidest thing that he could’ve thought— that Y/N was causing and conspiring in his fall and loss of the championship.

Lewis had believed that Y/N had betrayed him. He believed Toto’s words and he allowed Toto to demote Y/N. Lewis knew that he chose to believe everyone but the person that had loved him. And this had caused him the person he loved. Y/N had left him.

Regret was short of what Lewis felt. The emotional pain had manifested into pain that he felt on the outside. Lewis had felt pain like no other at the loss of Y/N. But it was a pain that he would choose to go through, if it meant that he finally realized the mistakes that brought pain to his Y/N. He would gladly go through the pain if it meant that he finally realized the depth of his love for the girl he once took for granted.

And He promised to himself that he will get her back and prove himself worthy to Y/N. Lewis Hamilton will take all means necessary to right his wrongs — and it starts within Mercedes, where the root of the problems began. Fuck the championship and the team. He wont let them touch Y/N again.

Exploding with simmering rage, Lewis had found himself in front of Toto Wolff’s office. Not bothering to knock, he had opened the door with a crashing bang not caring if he broke the office door or if everyone heard the commotion.

“WOLFF!! What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” The loud shouts of Lewis filled the entire office.

“Calm down and close the damn door, Lewis” there sat behind his office table, a stack of paper in hand — Toto Wolff. The man’s expression was unreadable and cold. Toto knew how to keep his reactions and emotions away from the English champion. Toto Wolff always knew how to control and deal with Lewis Hamilton … until Lewis had fallen for Y/N L/N for real.

Toto can read Lewis Hamilton like an open book— Toto knew what Lewis’ thoughts were before he said them. But when Lewis had started to deviate from the plan, Lewis Hamilton’s priority had shifted. The champion had set his heart on you.

Lewis Hamilton had deviated from the plan. He wasn’t supposed to fall in love with the engineer. No, the plan was to date the girl to keep her in Mercedes, be his race engineer and keep her in line.

This was set between Lewis and Toto from when he transferred to the team. From day 1, everything was set in stone. But to Toto Wolff’s vexation, Y/N L/N had always come up on top.

Y/N L/N had turned his golden driver, the key to his success and fortune against him. Lewis Hamilton was no longer the puppet he could control. Just because he fell to the charms of the engineer.

“Shut the fuck up Wolff! Drop the fucking lawsuit on Y/N or I’ll swear I’ll tear this team and your reputation apart” Lewis raged, muscles tensing as he jabbed his finger menacingly at Toto.

***

“Christian what is this about? What is going on?” After you had received the urgent news. You had quickly made your way towards the Red Bull Motorhome.

Your phone was blasted with notifications from all social media platforms. Mercedes had the insolence of posting in the media of something that wasn’t yet to be discussed with you nor Red Bull. You knew that this was another dirty tactic on their part

“They’re suing you and the team for a data and contract breach” Christian had said begrudgingly as he sat back his chair, a hand on the bridge of his nose.

“What? On what grounds?” You asked exasperated as you took a seat in front of Christian’s table.

“Here’s a copy of their claim” Christian gave you a copy of the paper from Mercedes. You flipped through the pages and you couldn’t help but mockingly laugh.

You were being sued on the grounds of sharing information on team and driver strategies to Red Bull and that you didn’t finish your employment contract with them. You could help but think of how desperate and pathetic they could be.

How can they be so petty and think of you cheating just cause they couldn’t win against you.

“Wow, they couldn’t handle the fact that they’re loosing, huh. What did the FIA say?” You once again asked your team principal.

Suddenly the door opened revealing a disheveled Max— who seemed to have ran his way here.

“What the fuck did I hear about a lawsuit?!” Max was hysterical as he made his way into the room.

Christian didn’t mind the Dutch driver as he answered my question.

“They haven’t contacted us yet, but expect that you will be suspended from engineering for Max till end of the season.” A look of sympathy had shown itself on the principal.

“They wouldn’t dare! Y/N is innocent! Just cause they cant swallow their incompetence, they target Y/N?! Cowardly motherfuckers” Max ranted.

They expected you to cower and run for the hills, but this was something you had already planned on them doing. Petty and underhanded actions are Mercedes’ MO and you are prepared for it.

If they wanted to play it this way, then you’ll up them in their own game.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. We’ll have your back and we’ll do everything in our power to prove your innocence” Christian had said showing his support. Meanwhile Max was on his phone typing away muttering under his breath that he’ll pay millions for the best lawyer for you.

“Thank you Christian, it’s very much appreciated! Great to know the team has my back. But I think we should fight fire by fire first” you smiled at them menacingly as looks of confusion appeared on them.

“What do you mean, Liebling?” Max questioned

“A counterclaim on Mercedes on the grounds of employee maltreatment and workplace harassment — don’t worry, Nico will testify if needed” You smiled brightly, as if what you said was nothing.

“It will only be fair if we take this to the media as well right? They did start it first” you added.

“That will ruin the reputation of Mercedes… are you sure, y/n? They will be out for blood.” Christian warned.

The pain, humiliation, and mental abuse you’ve experienced in that motorhome, everything they’ve done to you came rushing back.

“They’ve ruined mine and they’re dragging the team into. Its only fair”

“Y/N there are hundreds of employees at Mercedes that will face fire. Are you certainly sure?”

“Mercedes will survive, it’s only the principal and top management that needs total revamping.”

***

Red Bull had just posted their response to Mercedes and all of motorsports was having a field day. All sports news was covering the debacle between the two motor teams.

Your phone was once again lighting up with notifications. And one particular message has gotten your attention that you couldn’t help but reply.

Upon reading the last reply, your heart dropped to your stomach. Should you ask Max?

Max wouldn’t do anything like that right? Max knew what Toto Wolff had done to you… he wouldn’t work with Toto right?

Max knew you detested the man that made your life a living hell. Max would never.

Yeah … he wouldn’t.

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[upsettingandunfortunateclasshate]

“The Prince of Wales was subjected to chants of “Lizzie’s in a box” and “If you hate the Royal family, clap your hands” by Celtic fans during Aston Villa’s Champions League clash with the Scottish club.”

😂

[konigbabe]

PEACH

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x fem!reader Word count: 1.7k Tags/warnings: no y/n; domestic Satoru Gojo; Gojo being a menace of a boyfriend in public; eventual smut (part V only) Summary: Gojo's an ass man. Part of my JJKS2 writing week; also written after being inspired by @greycaelum's ask.

event masterlist • masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3 • ko-fi

I.

It starts off innocently enough.

Even before you’ve got together, Satoru makes it a habit of his own to give your ass an amicable pat for "good luck" or "to bless him". Make it obvious that the young teacher’s rather fond of his fellow teacher’s backside, going as far as openly making up compliments. Spreading heat through your cheeks when his little game of teasing starts.

("Nice derriere, that skirt’s doin’ you wonders," he says, grinning from ear to ear while watching you walking down the hallway with Ijichi, discussing recent curse spirit’s activities.

Your companion’s breath hitches, a blush spreading over his cheeks when you turn around, "what does that mean?")

But you know Satoru too well, and his quirky sense of humor never fails to amuse you; even when you try to keep your face blank whenever he starts talking. Satoru's compliments are akin to a playful serenade. He isn’t holding back; not even in front of his own students.

("Y’know," forearm resting on your shoulder, he leans closer to you, "your tush deserves its own fan club and I'm officially the first member."

You don’t even look at him, rather starring blanky at the fighting students on the field, "Tush?")

II.

As your relationship with Satoru turns intimate and romantic, his playful teasing takes on a new dimension; it becomes a form of worship.

Lying sprawled on the couch, your head cradled by a pillow nestled beneath your chin, you watch the flickering TV screen with a mind adrift, sometimes diverting your gaze to scroll through your phone. Days off are a rarity amongst jujutsu sorcerers. The teachers especially. So you use the day to relax, unwind and let your body mend and rejuvenate after the latest mission.

The tranquil ambiance, however, is fleeting when Satoru returns. Discarding his shoes and jacket with a careless thud, he drops a small paper bag onto the nearest drawer before making a beeline for your relaxed form.

With a wordless playfulness, he plops the full weight of his body onto your back—or more accurately, the back of his head lands snugly on the supple, rounded globes of your butt.

"Satoru," you whine, neck straining as you try to turn around, "you’re way too heavy."

His arm restrains you, slithering around your lower abdomen like a sinuous serpent, fingers kneading the squeezable flesh of your hip. The other hand lands right at the apex of your back thigh, kneading the subtle build before moving upwards on the lower part of your butt.

"Mmh," he huffs, engrossed in massaging your body, too preoccupied to offer a proper response.

You can’t complain either; Satoru is skillful with his fingers, always knowing which spots to apply the right pressure and leaving you in a state of pure relaxation.

"You want me to stop," he asks after a second to which you promptly deny; letting out a contented sigh, prompting a small chuckle from Satoru. "Then I'm glad you're enjoyin’ it," he says, voice carrying a warm sincerity.

III.

The plates clash with each other, sound loud enough to make you think he broke it instead of washing it. A soft, gentle hum swirls around the air as Satoru moves the sponge in circles.

You watch from the arched doorway. Tall, lean frame covering your view of his task, yet the clanking confirms your initial suspicions. Satoru, focused on the chore, wears a well-worn apron over a simple, black shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal strong forearms that move with practiced precision.

Staying in place, you shamelessly marvel at the sight; watching him set another plate in the drying rack. Eyes gliding over the broadness of his shoulder to the contour of his waist, they land on their target.

Simple grey sweatpants, a black ribbon belt holding them in place, hide your target from your eyes. But you know where to aim when you start taking cautious, quiet steps toward Satoru.

The attack is quick. Calculated. The impact of your palm sends a loud slapping sound throughout the kitchen. A lively laugh escapes your lips at the same time Satoru’s head turns to the side, eyes locking yours in a frozen stance.

You take off.

He doesn’t rush. Calmly continuing to hum the song, he finishes the last dish and puts it on the rack. One hand turning the faucet off with a dangerous nonchalance, the other reaches for the washing cloth. Drying his hands and taking the apron off, he turns to where you ran off.

You make it to the stairs before you feel Satoru’s grip on your wrist, firm but playful. Tugs you backward; gentle force turning you around, bending you at the waist. Arm deftly sneaking around your shoulders, locking your arms by your sides as he stands tall by your side.

"You really thought you could get away with this, peach?"

His fingers, long and slender, dance over the small of your back. Barely grazing the surface of your skin over the material of your shirt; tracing a tantalizing path down your body.

As you squirm within his firm however gentle grasp, a soft and brief laugh escapes your lips, a mix of nervousness and delight. "I didn't mean it," you admit jovially, the words imbued with a tinge of mischief, "I didn't know it would lend so perfectly."

"You didn’t know," Satoru chortles, leisurely placing his palm flat upon the rounded curve of your pants-covered butt, fingers sinking into the pliant flesh, exerting a measured pressure as if savoring the feeling, "Think you can win this?"

With that, his hand leaves your body–

"Wait, Satoru," you try to swat him away but his hold over your upper body remains unyielding, steadfast, allowing him to orchestrate the next move, "Gojo!"

–and he delivers the first slap; earning a surprised yelp from you, body jolting forward. The sound of the impact reverberates throughout the open space, accompanied by Satoru’s contagious laughter as he lets you go. Hand supporting your weight, making sure you don’t fall flat on your face, you still end up on the ground.

The skin of your butt stings as you palm the flesh.

"You’re in for it now, Satoru Gojo," with a daring grin, you prepare yourself to retaliate. Not now. But the time will come.

The man in question throws his hands in the air, smiling brightly as he takes a step back, "Oh, I’m scared."

IV.

"We just need some edamame, more pickled ginger, and white miso," you list the items from your phone, taking the lead as you and Satoru both stroll through the aisles. He holds the basket, staying a good step behind you with his gaze focused on your back, a smile playing at the corner of his lips–eliciting a suspicious feeling out of you.

Even with the obsidian-tinted glasses covering his eyes, the glimmer of amusement in his gaze hasn't escaped your perceptive senses. A whisper of suspicion trails through your mind; you know he's scheming something.

As you approach the edamame section, you start searching for the perfect bag, seeking the one with the right plumpness and vibrancy.

But before you can grab one, Satoru unexpectedly announces “butt-five” before springing forward with playful exuberance, the resounding clap of his hand meeting your butt reverberating through the store like a percussion note, commanding the attention of nearby shoppers.

Involuntarily, you release a startled, high-pitched yelp—a symphony of surprise and embarrassment entwined. But before any further fallout can unfold, Satoru suppresses the escalating situation, covering your mouth with his warm, large hand, and steering you behind an aisle. Out of sight from curious onlookers.

Holding back his laughter, you feel his chest pressed tightly against your back, vibrating as he silently laughs, palm flat against the lower part of your face, muffling the remnants of your outburst.

"Sorry ‘bout that," he manages to stifle his laughter, an undercurrent of amusement still evident in his voice. "Couldn't resist, y’know?"

Through the slight crack between his fingers and your lips, you muster a muffled threat, "I’m gonna kill you.”

He releases his hand, feigning innocence, his eyes wide with mock surprise.

"What?" he questions you, knowing full well the extent of his antics.

"You’re a dead man walking, Satoru Gojo."

V.

Satoru has you in a vice grip; arms encircling the fat of your thighs with unrelenting strength, fingernails making deep crescent moons into your sensitive skin, setting your whole body aflame. Every inch of your being screams for more as you sink into the mattress, burying your face into the pillows to muffle all sounds of pleasure his mouth is drawing out of you.

He’s merciless. Relentless. Ruthless.

Tongue teasing your soaked slit, lapping hungrily at you like a man starved. The tip of his nose gleaming with your juices as he expertly fucks his tongue inside of you.

In and out. Going as deep as the position allows him.

Pulling your body more into him, burying his face into you; so close that it seems as if he wishes to be swallowed by your cunt whole.

You can barely concentrate before he pulls away; especially when another wave of pleasure washes over you. Wet lips worshipping your hungry bud, thin strands of wetness glistening around it, something he greedily laps up before moving upwards. His wet tongue leaves trails of fire along the fleshy swell of your ass, teeth soon following suit as they bite lightly into the plump globes.

Satoru nibbles at the flesh, one hand sneaking back between your legs to cup your sex, tease the entrance with his fingertip, collecting the wetness before pushing in two fingers. He fills you up, soon adds another finger as his mouth continues its sweet assault on your ass.

"Could eat this ass any day–"

He drives his fingers in and out of you. Fast and unrelenting; massaging your walls while making you gasp as he moves his mouth down, licking and biting at your back thighs before concentrating back on your asscheeks.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

The only way I can make Cater's dream make sense is through headcanon. 😭

Like, one day Cater vented to Lilia during club time about how tyrannical Riddle was and joked about how much easier things would be if he were Housewarden instead. Then later on Lilia repeated it to Malleus while they were discussing how their days went and Malleus just....took it seriously.

There’s two clashing explanations given in canon: Idia’s claim that Malleus “has a shallow understanding of happiness” (implying Malleus has more control over the contents of the dream than one may think) versus the realistic logic that Malleus cannot possibly control the contents of individual dreams because he doesn’t know all 20,000 Sage’s Island residents.

Maybe there’s a middle ground between these two…? Like, Malleus might exert a little more influence for those that he feels he sort of knows, hence it resulting in very convenient scenarios he might think others would want, but in a very surface-level way that does not reflect truly “knowing” someone intimately. Sort of like how someone might tangentially hear about Twst but they never read the main story, vignettes, etc. and they just write fanfic based on the ✨ Vibes ✨ which will inevitably lead to mischaracterization or contradictions with canon. (And no shade to those kinds of Twst fans, I’m only using this as an example because I’ve heard people joking that the dreams are basically “Malleus’s fanfictions featuring his classmates”.)

This could maybe explain things like Leona being king or, like you said, Cater being dorm leader for some reason. Only trouble is, very little in the game implies that this conclusion (the combination of two previous explanations) is what we’re supposed to come to, nor is it ever mentioned that Cater mentioned or joked to Lilia about being a dorm leader. I’ve seen many other headcanons to explain Cater’s dream, including “he masks so often he doesn’t know what he truly wants anymore” and "he craves attention, even if that means being in a position he's not interested in" which are completely different than the idea suggested in this ask. There are countless more out there.

I don’t think Twst should pass the work of justifying the dreams to us every single time, especially when they failed to provide the clues for us to generally all come to the same end point 💀 The only way for us to make sense of things is to come up with our own headcanons to cope…

[coolemmasulivan2]

Rewinding Us | 1

Pairing: Mason Mount x Reader

Summary: You and Mason built a love story over five years, but after an accident, your memories are wiped away, including any feelings for your constant bickering "rival". Can you remember your love story with Mason, or will you have to start all over?

Word Count: 3613

You can read more chapters here.

Isn't it strange How people can change From strangers to friends Friends into lovers And strangers again?

Mason's laughter echoed across the bar area, as he leaned into a conversation with a blonde woman. Her vibrant red dress seemed to draw all the light from the sun, and the way she tilted her head towards him spoke volumes. A tingling of unfamiliar anger flared in your chest.

Eight years ago, mutual friends introduced you to Mason. Everyone predicted sparks would fly, but instead, you and Mason clashed constantly. Conversation with him often devolved into playful jabs that sometimes turned into full-blown arguments.

Then, the accident happened and something changed. Well… everything seemed to have changed.

You were on your way home from a draining workday when a drunk driver slammed into your car at a red light. The impact was brutal, leaving you in a coma for days. When you finally opened your eyes, your memories were fractured, stuck five years in the past.

The amnesia was a cruel joke. Five years vanished, leaving a hole in your life. Everywhere you turned, there was evidence of a life you couldn't recall: a new job you didn't choose, friends you couldn't place, a house that felt foreign. Most unsettling were the unfamiliar feelings stirring within you. Those weird and unfamiliar feelings.

"Who's that?" Ben asked, taking a swig of his almost empty beer.

"I don't know." You mumbled, your gaze glued to the pair.

"She's definitely something else!" Ben smirked.

"She's nothing special!" You snapped, the words leaving your mouth a little too quickly. Heat crept up your cheeks, and you looked away hoping Ben hadn't noticed.

"Jealous much?" He teased.

You scoffed. "Jealous? Please. She's most likely after his fame." Your voice lacked conviction even to your own ears.

Across the room, Mason felt a familiar warmth bloom in his chest despite the woman's flirtatious banter. He only had eyes for you, even if you didn't remember the five years you'd spent tangled up in his life as his girlfriend. Just then, the bartender placed their drinks down, and Mason took his leave with a polite excuse.

"Who was that?" Ben nudged him as he sat back down.

Mason took a long pull from his beer, the bitterness mirroring the emotions churning in his gut. "Just a fan."

"Fan, huh? Looked more like a starving woman from the way she was eyeing you up." Ben's gaze flicked to you, a thoughtful frown creasing his forehead. "Speaking of, Y/n wasn't exactly thrilled with the view."

"What?"

On the dance floor, you laughed with Charlotte, your head thrown back in carefree joy as you moved along the music. The sight sent a jolt through him. Seeing you happy made him happy.

"Maybe that's a good thing, right?" Mason said. "Means she still cares about me, even without the memories."

"There's only one way to find out." Chimed in Benny, sliding onto the club sofa beside them. "Kiss her!"

The air crackled with tension. A knot formed in Mason's stomach. Was he right? Was there even a chance you'd feel the same if he kissed you? Or would you slap him just like the first time five years ago?

"What if it doesn't work?" Mason asked.

"At least then you know."

Reece whistled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. It was a stupid prank. Mason knew it was ridiculous. The locker room pranks were a highlight of the day, a chance to goof around with the team. But this time, a knot of dread formed in his stomach.

"Seriously?" Mason's voice was tired.

"Don't be a pussy, Mason!" Reece nudged him. "It's just a kiss. A peck, really. It doesn't need to be a French kiss." The other guys burst into laughter.

Mason gave Reece a dreadful look. "Why her?" His voice was a low growl. "I'll do it with anyone else."

Christian slung an arm around Mason's shoulder. "Come on, man. Where's your sense of adventure? It wouldn't be any fun with someone else." Mason rolled his eyes, a muscle ticking in his jaw.

"She'll be at the birthday party tonight! It's your opportunity." Reece pushed, a sly grin spreading across his face. "You know the consequence if you back out."

"What was that about?" Charlotte asked softly, noticing your expression.

"Nothing!" You sighed, forcing a smile.

"It looked like something." She pressed gently. "You looked like you were ready to march over there and claim him as your territory." Charlotte exclaimed, her voice laced with a hint of amusement.

You let out a frustrated sigh. "Ugh, don't be ridiculous." You scoffed, but it lacked conviction. The truth was, the sight of Mason laughing with another woman had sparked a flicker of something unexpected in your chest.

"Maybe you're just reacting strangely because of, well…" Charlotte trailed off, gesturing vaguely towards your head.

You clenched your jaw, a flicker of frustration crossing your features. The accident had robbed you of so much, leaving you adrift in a sea of unknowns. Lately, though, especially around Mason, there were these… moments. Flashes of emotions you couldn't quite place.

"Look, I don't know what's going on in my head, but it doesn't mean I like him. We… didn't exactly get along, remember?" You trailed off, unsure how to describe your past with Mason.

Charlotte was bursting to tell you the truth, the truth about your feelings for Mason and his for you. Your relationship was no secret. Everyone knew. Everyone except you.

"I'm not saying there's something there." She hedged. "But maybe there's a spark you haven't noticed."

You scoffed, shaking your head for emphasis and taking a large sip of your drink. "No way! I never have and never will. He's just another stuck-up jock with a silver spoon up his—"

Charlotte cut you off with a pointed look. "Isn't that most of your guy friends?"

You stuttered, the truth hitting you like a cold shower. Charlotte was right. Football players were your usual crowd, and that's how you met Mason in the first place. But there was just something about him, something that had rubbed you the wrong way since the beginning.

"He's different."

Charlotte smirked. "Yes, he is." She muttered.

"Last night, I thought about looking him up on Google." You blurted out, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. Charlotte's eyes widened in pure panic.

"You what?" She gasped.

"I don't even know why." You admitted, feeling a wave of shame wash over you. "I just started thinking about him, and the next thing I knew, I was typing his name into Google. Thankfully, I realised what I was doing and deleted it before I hit enter."

The internet was flooded with numerous photos of you and him, making it evident that your relationship with him had evolved into something more over the years.

"Don't google him! Just talk to him." Charlotte said. "Just because you can't recall the last five years doesn't mean your relationship with him has to remain the same as you remember, with constant arguments."

You tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear and glanced back. Mason was already looking at you, but he quickly looked away when you caught him.

The clean, white walls blurred as a dull ache throbbed behind your eyes. A rhythmic beeping filled the air, and panic clawed at your throat, a soundless scream trapped in your chest.

Two blurry familiar figures materialized beside the bed.

"Easy there!" A deep voice murmured. His face was etched with worry, his familiar blue eyes welling up.

"Mason?" You rasped, your voice rusty and unfamiliar. A hand grasped yours, warm and familiar. "Charlotte?"

"Yeah." He choked out, forcing a smile. "It's us. You're awake."

You tried to piece together the fragments of your shattered mind. "What happened? Where am I?"

"You're in the hospital." Charlotte said, her face etched with worry. "You've been in a coma for a while." The sentence sent a jolt of fear through you, questions tumbling through your mind, unanswered and terrifying. "Do you remember anything?"

You shook your head, the movement sending a fresh wave of pain through your body. "No."

A tear escaped Charlotte's eye and traced a path down her cheek. "You're okay… You're okay, that's what matters."

You shifted your gaze back to Mason, a question forming on your lips. "What are you doing here?" Your group of friends was the same, but the two of you were not exactly best friends.

The question hung heavy in the air. Mason's face drained of colour, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Wh-- What do you mean?"

"Well, we're not exactly best friends, are we? I never expected you to give up your perfect life to sit in a hospital chair waiting for me to wake up."

At that moment, you saw a flicker of something raw and painful in his eyes. You knew, with a strange certainty, that your question had shattered something inside him.

Charlotte took your hand. "Hey, look at me. What is the last thing you remember?"

You looked at her, confused as to why she was asking you that. But you closed your eyes and made an effort to think about it. "I don't know." You frustrated said. "I remember our trip to Australia."

Charlotte placed a hand over her mouth, stifling a gasp. She looked up at the ceiling, taking a deep breath to compose herself. Mason's reaction mirrored hers. He stood up abruptly and ran a hand through his hair. Only then did you realize he looked older from the last time you saw him.

"Y/n?" You looked at your friend, as she cleared her throat, her voice thick with emotion. "That was five years ago."

Back at the villa, a drunken haze hung heavy in the air. Everyone except Mason, who squirmed nervously as his gaze constantly darted back to you. It wasn't that you were a disaster drunk, but you were unpredictable, and he couldn't bear the thought of not being there if you needed help.

The irony tasted bitter on his tongue. The Mason you "knew" wouldn't have cared if you tripped and fell, let alone offered a hand.

The doctor's words echoed in his head: amnesia, five years vanished. Your story, a typical journey from enemies to lovers, shattered in a blink of an eye. Anger bubbled up inside him and not just for you, but for him too.

"I'm going to bed!" Ben growled, his voice higher than usual.

"I'm hungry. I want cheese!" Charlotte said, grabbing your arm and dragging you towards the kitchen.

Meanwhile, Mason attempted to assist Benny onto the couch. The groan that escaped Benny's lips sounded suspiciously like a death rattle, but when he managed a weak thumbs-up, Mason sighed.

He kicked off his sneakers and slid open the outdoor French doors, letting in a cool breeze. He could hear the sounds of female laughter and the clinking of glasses from the kitchen and he could picture the mess you were creating.

Suddenly, a muffled voice groaned: "Kiss her!"

Mason jolted upright, his eyes landing on Benny, who remained dead on the couch with his eyes shut.

"Dude, I thought you were sleeping!"

"I am!" He said, chuckling.

"Yeah, right." Mason grumbled, hitting Benny's head with a pillow. Benny, ever the drama king, yelped and sat up, clutching his head and muttering a curse or two.

You and Charlotte emerged from the kitchen, each sporting a triumphant grin and a sandwich. "Hungry, boys?" Charlotte asked, raising an eyebrow.

Benny eyed the sandwich with the intensity of a starving man, but after a groan that seemed to emanate from the depths of his stomach, most likely from the alcohol, he declined. Mason, too, shook his head, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features as he watched you laughing with Charlotte while sitting by the pool and eating a sandwich at three in the morning.

With a mumbled goodbye, Mason hoisted a groaning Benny to his feet and guided him up the stairs. Helping his friends into bed, Mason felt the day's weight finally lift from his body. But as he caught another glimpse of you through his bedroom window, a different tension settled in his chest. How was he supposed to act around you now? The girl he loved but doesn't even remember him like that?

"You always need to have the final word, don't you?" Mason growled, his voice laced with annoyance. You shot him a glare.

"Because you're so much better, Mr. Perfect?" You retorted, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

Mason threw his hands up in exasperation. "Will you just shut up?" He groaned, the frustration evident on his face.

You crossed your arms over your chest, ready to fire back another insult, but before you could utter a word, Declan beat you to it.

"Would you two stop fighting for two seconds?" He pleaded, his voice strained. You glanced at him, his face flushed with annoyance.

"He started it!" You muttered, pointing an accusing finger at Mason.

Mason scoffed, his jaw clenched. "Me? You're the one who couldn't just let it go."

Lauren, seated beside Declan, reached over and squeezed his shoulder, her touch calming the tension radiating from him. She threw a helpless look between you and Mason, a silent plea for you both to act like mature adults. But as usual, you couldn't.

Exhaustion finally settled over Charlotte, her giggles fading into soft snores as she drifted off on the lounge chair. You watched her for a moment, jealous of her sleep escape. With a sigh, you pushed yourself up from the chair and slowly walked around the pool's edge.

Each step felt heavy. It was always when you were alone with your thoughts that the blank space where memories should be frustrated you the most. Friends, family, lovers – who knew who you'd lost in that time? The doctors were optimistic, suggesting the amnesia might be temporary, but the not knowing worried you.

As you stepped forward, you didn't see where you were placing your bare foot and a surprised yelp escaped your lips. You closed your eyes ready to embrace the cold water but before you knew it, a strong hand grabbed your arm, pulling you back with surprising ease. You landed against Mason's chest, his familiar scent washing over you.

His scent is so familiar, you thought to yourself.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. You looked up into his eyes, seeing a flicker of worry and something else that made your breath hitch. You both leaned in, the unspoken feelings and longing hanging heavy in the air.

Then, you remembered who he was. "Take your hands off, Mount!" You mumbled, pushing away from him a little too forcefully.

Mason's playful grin faded. "Are you sure you want that?" He challenged, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Yes!" You said, trying to sound tougher than you felt.

He held his gaze for a second longer, then quickly released his grip. You took a triumphant step back and before you could react, you were falling backwards.

Panic. A scream ripped from your throat as you plummeted towards the cold water. A strong arm wrapped around your waist just in time. Mason pulled you back against him with a grunt, his grip firm and protective.

"That's what I thought." He smirked, a hint of concern lingering in his voice.

Silence stretched between you, thick and heavy. The hand that held your waist felt imprinted onto your skin, sending shivers down your spine. Your eyes drifted down, drawn to his lips, something you don't remember noticing before. A strange urge buzzed through you. Maybe it was the disorientation, but before you knew it, you were both leaning in.

"What's happening?" Charlotte called out, rubbing her blurry eyes, her voice laced with concern. Both you and Mason jolted apart, a blush creeping up your neck. The tension slowly drained away, replaced by a cold jolt of reality.

"Nothing!" You stuttered, forcing a smile at Charlotte. "Just a little clumsy." Feeling awkward and desperate to break the tension, you blurted out, "Uh, I think I'm going to bed… Goodnight!" Without another word, you turned and fled inside the house.

Charlotte saw you entering the house, and then her gaze flicked to Mason, who was now staring intently at the pool. A slow realization dawned on her face.

"Oh no!" She drawled, her voice filled with despair. "Did I interrupt something?"

The music pulsed through the air, a relentless bass beat vibrating in Mason's chest. Sarah's birthday celebration was a joyful gathering, filled with laughter and people swaying to the music. His eyes, however, were trained on you, across the room, lost in conversation with a group of girls, your laugh ringing in the air.

Every muscle in Mason's body screamed in agony. This was a terrible idea, a prank gone way too far, but the memory of Reece's ultimatum and the relentless teasing he'd face if he backed out helped him gain courage. He took a deep breath and a long sip of his beer.

He navigated the crowded room, dodging spilled drinks. As he drew closer, he could see the happiness on your face, the way your eyes sparkled with joy. He was close enough now to hear part of your conversation, making you throw your head back and laugh. The sound of your laughter did something strange to him. Something different and new.

Taking a final breath, he stopped in front of you and your smile faded as his shadow loomed over you.

"What do you want, Mason?" You asked, annoyance lacing your voice.

He shrugged, trying to appear casual. "Just, wanted to say hi."

You raised an eyebrow. "Right… Because that's something you normally do."

He ran his hand over his hair, avoiding your gaze. "Look, can we just talk for a second?"

You hesitated, your friends giving you curious looks. Finally, you sighed. "Fine. But make it quick." You stepped away from the group and into a quieter corner of the room. "What?" You hissed.

"Just…" He mumbled, looking like he was about to swallow his tongue. "This!"

Before you could react, he closed the gap between you, pressing his lips against yours, his hands cupping your cheeks. It wasn't gentle, more like a surprise attack. Your eyes flew open, and your first instinct was to shove him away, but for some reason, you didn't. Maybe it was the shock, but you found yourself frozen.

Then, just as quickly as it started, it ended. You jerked your head back, a look of pure fury on your face.

"What the fuck was that?" You yelled, slapping him hard across the face, the sound loud enough to cause the closest heads to turn your way.

Mason stumbled back, hand flying to his cheek, a perplexed look on his face. "Wow! Okay, bad idea!"

You glared at him, your chest heaving. "The worst idea ever, Mount. The absolute worst." Spinning on your heel, you stormed back to your friends, leaving a stunned Mason, replaying the heat of the kiss and the unexpected spark running through his body.

You bolted upright in bed, the sheets tangled around you. The dream was vivid and confusing. The taste of Mason's lips, the anger, the heat – it all felt real.

Before you could even think about it, you were out of bed, fueled by a restless energy and a burning need for answers. You stormed down the hallway, the silence broken only by your pounding heart and fast footsteps. Mason's bedroom door was shut, but that didn't stop you as you opened it.

Mason was sprawled across his bed, his bare chest at display. The dim glow of moonlight fell across his face, highlighting the peaceful lines of his sleep.

"Mason!" You called, hitting his leg under the sheet to wake him up. "Mount, wake up!" He jolted upright, his eyes wide with surprise.

"What the hell, Y/N?" He said, his voice thick with sleep.

"Why did you kissed me?" You demanded, your voice shaking with a mixture of anger and confusion. He blinked, trying to focus on what you were saying. "Did you thought it was a good idea? Did you had fun?"

"Wha-- what are you talking about? Slow down." He mumbled, his brain struggling to catch up.

"Don't play dumb!" You hissed. "Sarah's birthday party, remember? Years ago! You… kissed me!" You gestured wildly with your hands. "Was it a joke? Was I just some random target?"

Mason finally seemed to grasp the situation. He rubbed his eyes wearily. "Y/N, slow down. Please!" He sat down, leaning against the headboard. You were finally remembering something.

"Slow down?" You shouted, incredulous. Your frustration boiled over, and you hit him lightly on the chest. "I woke you up because you're confusing! One minute you're arguing with me, the next you're… invading my personal space!"

"Hey!" He protested, catching your wrists and pulling you down on the bed next to him. "Whoa, calm down. You're gonna wake up the whole house." He held your gaze, his voice softer now.

You glared at him, the anger simmering just beneath the surface. "Let go of me, Mount!" You snapped. The memory of the kiss, the way your body had reacted despite your initial resistance, felt like a betrayal. "I hate you!" You mumbled.

He leaned closer, his breath warm against your face. "Do you really, Y/N?" His voice was a low murmur, sending shivers down your spine. You could feel the heat radiating from him.

The anger you felt was fading fast, replaced by a confusing mix of emotions. Did you actually hated him?

[jeun-bug]

Continuation of mc fanclub👉👈

Do you think mc will have a paparazzi that keeps track on what she does in daily time? Like in wickhive maybe you'll found an account named "daily honor student" / "timely honor student"

The account starts off with compliments of MC until overtime the account uploaded photos of mc being shoot from faraway

Of course it became a bother of MC's daily private life, so maybe DA or ghouls themselves had to interfere and search who's the owner of the account (i think Ritsu will most likely be involved)

HA YES leo works with sinostra and uses his internet sleuth skills to figure out patterns in where the photos are being taken from, and frostheim and vagastrom members go and hunt down the paparazzi together in the smoothest interdorm operation the campus has ever seen. the chancellor is appalled. hyde is crying.

ritsu is absolutely thriving. romeo and leo are sitting in front of a laptop cackling evily as they watch taiga chase down a member of the fan club thru the EITS.

the fanclub is divided into two segments engaged in a civil war- faction A, who thinks that the paparazzi should be revered because any MC picture is worth anything, and faction B, who think that no one is worthy of taking photos of the dear inspector. it’s the worst conflict since the Clash.

MC doesn’t even know this is going on, they’re too busy having tea with subaru and lyca.

[anzulvr]

May I request how would Karma react when Asano is interested in Karma's s/o? Like here's the story, Asano and reader have been classmates and really good friends but the reader had to be transfered to E-class cause she beat someone up while trying to protect the other student and things like that, and Asano still being interested in reader even if they started dating Karma. Now how would Karma react when he finds it out??

Karma x Reader where Asano has a one sided crush!

(the first part is more explaining the backstory and then the second half of ur main request!!)

Omg I’m gonna cry I wrote this once and it didn’t save😭😭

TYSM for requesting!! I can’t tell you how fun this was this is like my favorite request I’ve ever gotten

First half ♡ the basis of your friendship with Asano!

Your thoughts on Kunugigaokas academic hierarchy had always aligned with Karmas rather than Asano’s, people were so much more than grades and the popularity came with it.

Asano saw you both in two different lights even if you clashed in opinions with him. You were too kind for your own good and were just seeing the best in people while Karma was, simply put, immature and impulsive in his eyes.

Even if you agreed with Karma on this one you were nothing alike, you couldn’t be.

Whenever you’d hear The Big 5 talk badly of any lower class student you’d tell them to quit it, the rest of the group would call you a buzz kill and reply with something along the lines of “People like them don’t deserve respect”.

(The big 5 is Asano and his main friend group and at the time yours too. They’re more like minions or henchmen to him but ya know)

This was the one type of occasion Asano would tell them to shut it.

“[Name] is right, don’t be so immature Seo, even if Eclass does deserve it.”

“Oh cmon you can’t seriously be taking [Name]’s side right no-“

“Didnt i tell you to shut up.”

“… ”

His favoritism towards you was very obvious (not that he was trying to be).

There were rumors going around saying you were dating and whatnot. His fan club was filled to the brim of pissed off girls who would kill to be in your place.

You’d been classmates with Karma before either of you were bumped down to end class but you were nothing more than desk mates, since he’d always ditch class early and never really talked to anyone other than Nagisa at the time.

Asano had advised you more than once to stay away from Karma, he’d tell you what were practically horror stories about Karmas insane fights and slightly (?) Criminal record.

Safe to say it kinda worked, you were intimidated.

“Really? ? He’s the reason Ren had a black eye last week??”

“Yeah, I’ve told you before- Akabane is more than insane.”

When you learned about further accounts from people other than Asano you’d realized Karma had only been standing up for people who’d been bullied. Your perspective on it all shifted. You had gained respect and admiration for Karma. What he was doing was kind in its own way and pretty chivalrous of him.

Even though you and Asano didn’t agree on much your friendship wasn’t something either of you we’re willing to throw away you’d been inseparable for years now, there wasn’t anything that could come between you, or so you thought.

When you got transferred to End Class for defending Hinano from an A class bully, Asano was surprised- he didn’t realize you’d be willing to take a hit to your record for something like this.

(I should add his fan club was over the moon when you got suspended they threw a little celebratory get together.)

Asano still texted you once in a while. It wasn’t the same as hanging out all the time like you used to.

Asano was having a dilemma, he liked hanging out with you but he told himself he couldn’t. He had an image to uphold for everyone in the main campus (and for himself in a way).

His text’s would be things like:

“Do good on the upcoming exams and they’ll want you right back in the main building. Goodluck!”

“Remember to study for next week [name]! unless you’d rather stay in end class.”

♡

— second half:

When Karma first met you he thought you were dating Asano and so did the rest of E class. You had to make it clear Asano and you are nothing more than friends, if you could even call him a friend anymore.

When they find out the reason you got suspended was the same as Karmas they opened up, It was hard having the entire school and faculty against them so it was nice seeing you give up on your main campus status like that in order to help someone else.

This was what first got Karma interested in getting to know you, you weren’t the type to get into fights yet you still did for someone else’s sake. You had maintained a perfect record all throughout school up until now.

Once you start dating, you literally mean the world to him because he feels like you’re the only person he can be completely open with.

WHEN ASANO FINDS OUT YOURE DATING he’s appalled.

Asano: Okay I just heard the craziest rumor you’re dating the Eclass psycho?? Text back asap

[name] : it’s true wdym

Asano: ??? Is he threatening you???

[name]: No??😭

(Omg wtf did I just enter my text fic era(the answer is no))

He genuinely thinks you’re trolling until he accidentally sees you hanging out together somewhere.

when Karma finds out Asano likes you even though you’re very much taken he’s very annoyed but he very quickly turns the annoyance into smugness when realizes he has the upper hand in the situation.

Okay his rival likes you, and HES dating you?? That’s literally the biggest win. It’s Jackpot.

100% rubs it in Asanos face during argument he has with him. He does it casually so Asano doesn’t see it as annoying or stupid but more truthful and hurtful.

“Try not to fail the exams this time around, I know it’s difficult for people as cocky as you to put effort in.”

“Oh don’t worry about my scores Asano, [name]’s helping me study so I’m sure I’ll do great!”

He’s doesn’t usually initiate PDA but the second Asano is in sight Karma will be draped all over you.

He doesn’t really like you talking to Asano because he doesn’t trust Asano to not be a douche but he won’t outright tell you not to because he doesn’t want to sound controlling or needy to you.

If he sees Asano texted you he’ll reply with a selfie of himself

“We’re busy right now☺️.”

Asano is more confused than anything, why would anyone want to go out with that guy out of everyone in the world.

They’ve definitely argued about it

“They only reason [Name] is dating you is out of pity I don’t know why you flaunt it around every chance you get.”

“How would you know? Does she tell you? Oh right you guys barely talk nowadays.”

It won’t escalate to a full on fist fight unless Asano actually tries flirting with you (which I don’t know if he’d be dumb or cocky enough to do 😭)

Like the second something out of line comes out of that dudes mouth Karma is swinging.

Karma makes sure to prove to you he can one up Asano on anything.

Oh Asano got all A’s on his report card? Karma asked Korosensei to make sure the + was added next to his.

Asano can cook really well? Call Karma Gordon Ramsey because he’s now a culinary professional.

Asano made it on the cover of Kunugigaokas student paper?

Karma literally just tutored a bunch of near failing students and helped them achieve perfect scores getting him front cover on next week’s paper. (He stopped right after he secured the spot on the paper he wasn’t about to actually help people like that for FREE 😭.)

♡ ♡ (that one audio just played in my head while writing this “damn… someone took my bitch..😔”)

[six-eyed-samurai]

A/N: Help, what have I done? Sorry if this doesn't fit the characters, I was writing it sleep deprived and as neutral as possible. Support me and my poetry (that I came up with in the shower)

Heavens blessed me with you

The Knight, who when your parents announced you would marry you off to some elderly Lord, kept true to his word and took you away, escaping into the clashing colors of freedom and love in another kingdom far, far away, only for your world to darken into black and white once more when your enraged parents caught up and had him executed; it was now your turn to keep your side of the oath and join him in the afterlife when you drank the poisoned chalice.

In every rebirth

The Roman General who passed by you, lashing out any "potential buyer" when he walked disgusted through the slave market - he bought you freedom and yet somehow you stayed with him forever willingly cuffed by shackles of affection...until he died of an assassination and you were hung for having an "affair" with someone of higher class, but not before you both screamed to whatever god that would listen to come back to each other once more.

I promise I'll find you

The Baker who's never cared a penny about the other air headed girls from his small British village until you, a young noble lady recently moved into the old Baskerville Manor, turned up requesting his help in setting a banquet. Excuses after excuses pile up from both sides in an attempt to extend your brief time together but soon, oh, too soon, you leave as per your family's orders and he's left to wonder how you're doing now, because after years and years of searching they refused to let him in.

Through tears, death, dreams and mirth

The White American who finds you working day in day out at the laundry lady's for little to no pay, so from his not so small tips grew to slipping love letters through the pockets of his clothes, but soon you're fired and bade to leave for your skin colour and he's still bitterly cursing the townspeople for their blind racism.

And I know it's just a gamble

The Hockey player who grins at you who always shows up to his games in every match until he asks you out on an ice skating date, but alas, how could he have known that the day you finally showed up in his jersey, much to his delight, would be the day a crazed fan clubbed you on the head with his own hockey stick, much to your doom? He left the industry as cold as the rink.

Unfair, repeated roll of dice

The F1 Racer who whines about the most ridiculous problems happening to his car and making bad impressions of the other drivers just to see his beloved mechanic even crack a smile - no oil or dirt stained on you could ever dim that brilliant smile when you both went on a joyride together into the sunset...oh, wait, his death on the track did.

But in this temporary, fleeting

The Roommate who knows exactly what you want for breakfast every morning, and soon it spiraled into having a meal together for lunch and dinner too, especially when he added candles and rose petals! You still make your coffee the same way he did even after your studies took you abroad and both of you decided it was for the best to break up.

Moment in fast ending time

The Landlord who did NOT expect such a cute little you to move on when he decided to make a little cash on the side renting out his spare room...never mind, it's still on rent because now you've moved into his room. He managed to save your photo album from the charred remains of your house though...although he couldn't save you.

Tell me, oh tell me

The Drug dealer who just recently entered your big brother's gang, who protected you with his scrawny body every time any sexually frustrated asshole came to harass you. Your declarations of love didn't come in heartfelt words or gifts but a smoked joint with each other. You both didn't get delusional, because why should you when your fantasies were right in front? It was the same when you overdosed after someone ratted him out and sent him to a life sentence in prison.

Darling love of mine

The Mafioso who charms you with his suave words and cool under fire attitude, causing you to giggle and kick your feet whenever he came back to your door with flirtations and blood on his face from those who disrespected the mob boss's goddaughter. It was the classic romantic Italian dinner when he got down one one knee...except for the part when his rivals arrived to gun him down and you're left staring at his broken body and shattered ring.

You're just as lost

The Neighbour who had no idea the babysitter for the kids next door would be so goddamned FINE - if only he hadn't fumbled and stumbled over his words in the elevator! But that's alright, even little Ray and Katie are rooting for him and you! Your first date might not be fancy, but he was more starstruck in awe of you than he was of the night sky as you sat on top of the roof.

In paradise

"I feel like I've know you all my life."

"In every lifetime?"

"Maybe!"

And somewhere deep inside, you both knew it for certain: the endless cycles of pain were finally broken.

"I'm so glad of whatever karma that I did in my previous life got me to meet you!"

"You better continue it in this life so I can see you in the next one!"

Not karma, actually, but a series of broken promises finally repaired.

***

Sukuna, Giyuu, Kokushibo, Gojo, Takemitchy, Mikey, Ranpo, Nikolai, Kirishima, Hawks, Kakashi, Nishinoya, Kuroo, Toji, Kazutora, Nanami, Eren Yeager, Gyutaro, Kunikida, Zuko, Yuta, Inumaki, Levi, your favourites!