#could be the start of something really fun

[astonmartinii]

other side of the moon - chapter five | formula one imagine

pairing: fem retired formula one driver reader x ??? fem retired formula one driver reader x platonic!kimi antonelli

one big car launch with every driver in attendance - what can go wrong?

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR | SERIES MASTERLIST

whatever bright spark decided that formula one needed one big, fancy car launch must want y/n dead. here she stood in one of the many green rooms in a black dress that’s a little too tight and an absolute pain to sit down in.

on one side of the room george sits in his dressing gown being doted on five different people while he talks down the phone in a tone too loud for the crowded room. kimi, on the other hand, sits on the couch on the other side, having waved off all of the people trying to smear yet another cream on his face.

“are you just going to be haunting me all season?” george said as he hung up the phone. glaring at y/n through the mirror.

“if i’m haunting you, does that mean you did something wrong?” y/n gasps, “am i the skeleton in your closet, georgie?”

the mercedes personnel in the green room were still, almost waiting for it to hit boiling point and all spill over. george and y/n stared each other down, waiting for someone to make the next move. george steadily looked y/n up and down, not being subtle at all. y/n raised her eyebrow at the brit.

“i could get used to you in my colours,” george said with a smirk.

“bore off russell, i don’t wear anything for you. these will be seen as kimi’s colours before you know it.”

a knock on the door signalled the start of the show. george stood up and took off his robe, revealing the new mercedes racesuit for the season. the brit made his way to the door but before he left, he turned to y/n and said, “don’t get too comfortable, i have my eye on you”

“oh georgie, you always have,” y/n flirted before schooling her face, “and how has that worked out for you?”

the brit pointed to his racesuit, “better than it has for you.”

that was a low blow, but y/n was prepared to play it that way if that was the game for the season. george looked at her again, as if to challenge her, but y/n stayed silent though her stare was unwavering. she had said a lot worse about herself to herself after the crash.

with that george turned and left, calling out to alex down the corridor.

“i really don’t understand him,” kimi said, “it was only like a week or two ago he was cussing you out in monaco, then today he checks you out but then threatens you like two seconds later?”

“first lesson of the year, kimi. do not trust a word that man says to you.”

the pair linked arms and made their way out of the green room. there was a gaggle of drivers at the end of the corridor, all decked out in their racesuits except the ferrari boys who were in normal suits. the group fell silent as they all turned to see the new arrivals.

“i didn’t know it was bring your mum to work day?” alex called out as they neared the group, smiling as he came to hug her.

a french-accented voice hollered a ‘milf’ from the back of the group, y/n suspected it was pierre, but paid no mind. an offended squeak followed as y/n looked up to see max delivering a slap to the back of his head.

“i’m just dropping him off, i gotta get to my seat before i’m roped into an interview. i had to sneak in this afternoon, i swear sky sports are like stalking me!”

the group watched along as y/n leaned in to whisper into kimi’s ear, “remember what i told you. smile, be likeable and tell jokes. these people are underestimating you, let them. we’ll do our real talking in the car. good luck and try and have some fun.”

the pair did their ‘handshake’, which really was just a pinky promise, and broke apart. y/n looks back at the group one more time, smiles at max and takes her leave. just a couple paces down the corridor, a voice called out her name.

“y/n, hey!” lewis called, catching up to her quickly, “i didn’t think i’d see you back here tonight.”

“i wasn’t planning on it, to be fair. kimi is technically an adult now, but i still didn’t want to leave him on his own here of all places.”

lewis laughed as the pair looked back at the group. kimi had nestled himself next to ollie, quietly talking to each other with esteban looking over both of them. y/n caught the gaze of esteban and the frenchman gave her a quick nod before inserting himself into the conversation. the height difference between kimi and esteban was comical, but y/n was happy knowing esteban would look out for him in places she couldn’t be.

“i didn’t think you would like the whole mentor role, being so young and everything, but you seem to be doing a good job.”

“thank you lewis, but honestly he makes it very easy,” y/n looked at the group again with a fond look on her face.

lewis brought his hand to her face and made her look at him, “i thought i’d never see that look on your face again.”

y/n looked down and blushed, shaking lewis’ hand off. “i am happy. a lot happier than i expected to be, anyway.”

“i’m happy that you’re happy. i’m happy you’re back, i won’t keep my distance this time, even if you’re in the home of the enemy now.”

y/n laughed, “well i thought it was bad going back to your ex, and look at me now. so maybe they’re not as much as an enemy as you think.”

an announcement from further down the corridor cute the conversation there, lewis tries not to look bothered, but y/n can still tell.

“looks like you’re needed elsewhere, superstar,” y/n said with a wink, “try not to let charles outshine you too much.”

“he wishes.”

y/n watched him walk away and was confused. lewis had never expressed interest in her before, platonic or romantic. even when she was a young rookie with stars in her eyes, she was never on his radar. was she now? the visit in london had been weird and the way his eyes had been fixed on her since she arrived today was even weirder.

y/n didn’t really have the time to be grappling with that struggle today, not with everything else going on. the audience seemed like enough distance between her and lando, but after monaco, there was no real knowing what could happen. george was just as confusing as his compatriot, with harsh words but also a glimmer of something else too.

she needed a glass of champagne pronto.

max watched the interaction between y/n and lewis like a hawk, so focused that he didn’t realise that he had formed quite an audience. nico hulkenberg, kimi, ollie and esteban watched him try and conceal his feelings, but his face showed every thought.

“you want to make it any more obvious that you’re jealous?” nico said, nudging max to break him out of his daze.

“i’m not jealous, i just wonder what they actually have to talk about…”

“you’re not jealous you say? you didn’t even glare at him this much during 2021.” esteban chimed in.

max furrowed his brows and forced himself to look away. he already felt guilty for harbouring these feelings for y/n and now he’s faced with a curious look from kimi, making him feel even worse. he did not want to make the same mistake as lando and george had in the past. he meant it when he said he just wanted to exist with her.

“kimi, how would you feel about having max as your dad?” ollie said, hiding slightly behind esteban.

“he’s very good with the cats?”

“thanks, that’s such a glowing recommendation, kimi, thanks!”

kimi held up his hands in surrender but max couldn’t be angry at the italian - plus he did take very good care of his cats and brando. in fact, he had nearly thrown his back out, much to red bull’s chagrin, building a new cat tower so brando could watch the birds from his preferred spot. the cat had settled in well in his place in monaco while y/n had been staying, the dutchman didn’t want to think too much about what it could mean, but it was on his mind.

“i just mean i caught you googling how to make sure your cat is getting enough vitamin d because you were worried about how cloudy it’s been in monaco?”

kimi tried to backpedal, but his anecdote was overheard by more drivers, bringing them into the conversation.

“are you being for real? vitamins are just pseudoscience dude,” pierre said but isack popped his head into the circle to say, “vitamins are real? and vitamin d deficiency is actually a really huge problem.”

“thank you isack!”

“as if i’m taking health advice from a rookie,” pierre laughed. yuki took his turn to pipe up next, “i saw you eat a whole jar of peanut butter in one sitting last winter break? what do you know about health?”

“why is it gang up on pierre hour? why aren’t we focusing on the real issue here? like how pathetic max is about y/n?”

max sputtered as even more drivers joined the conversation.

“i am not pathetic. brando is practically my son. kimi back me up, doesn’t he love me?”

“he does -” kimi started defending max before charles butted in with a: “calling for help from the other son? we see how it is verstappen.”

this was a losing battle. max just hoped it stayed this light hearted but he saw lando and george approaching the group.

“max is not my dad, but i wouldn’t mind. he drove all the way to nice to pick up my parcel because i didn’t understand monaco postal charges!”

poor kimi was trying to help, but he was just making it inadvertently worse.

“this is making your pseudoadoption last year look like child’s play, oscar,” alex said, earning him a whack from charles.

“kimi is not my son, but that doesn’t mean i won’t look out for him. this is a horrible place to come when you’re already disliked. some people, not naming names, have made it clear they have a problem with him and y/n, so it’s simply my moral duty to look out for him.”

the group quietened down, looking amongst each other.

“why am i so out of the loop, who is bullying this literal child?” nico said, pulling kimi into his chest, the italian letting out a squeak as the german petted him. “so? do tell.”

for two people who were very eager to call y/n and kimi every name under the sun just a week ago, they were very silent in that moment.

“oh! we’re talking about the lovely cocktail party i threw that was ruined by lando and george!” charles blurted out, he grabbed fernando’s hand, “it was so nice, i even brought olives, but they came in spouting all this shit about y/n and kimi and seduction and older women?”

both brits scratched the backs of their necks. the cocktail party drama was not a good move from them, especially so close to the start of the season.

“it wasn’t quite like that?” george hurried out.

“you accused y/n of trying to sleep with me?” oscar said.

“you said that i was going the max verstappen route of getting with an older ‘problematic’ woman?” kimi added from nico’s side.

“you also kinda implicated yourself in y/n’s crash?” alex heaped on for good measure.

“alex!?” george and lando shouted, “whose side are you meant to be on?”

“i’m not on a “side” because i’m not fucking five, but i will point out hypocrisy and stupidity and that’s both of you. come on, it’s 2025 and you guys are still stuck in like 2017.”

“right, i feel really stupid because what the fuck are you people talking about and why wasn’t i invited to this party?” fernando said, a confused look on his face.

“lando and george are still hung up on y/n years later even though she never actually expressed interest in them, max has the best odds on actually sealing the deal and i don’t know, kimi is getting shit because he brought her back and none of them can actually regulate their emotions!” charles said, exasperated, “keep up grandpa, you’ve been here the whole time!”

“i do not have the ‘best odds’ because y/n isn’t a horse, you don’t bet on women?” max bit back.

“actually i bet on women all the time,” yuki said but when he saw how the group were looking at him he added, “ufc, duh!”

even as they were herded towards the backstage, the group continued bickering like children.

“all i’m saying is that your crush is super obvious and you need to be careful! y/n will know and will use it against you, just look at what happened with me and george!” lando hissed at max.

the dutchman glared at the brit, this really had gone too far. “can you like actually give me an example of where she ‘led you on’ i am genuinely curious,” max snipped, “quickly.”

lando immediately looked at the floor and bit his lip. max began tapping his foot with an impatient look.

“well she would be super flirty with me in the videos the team would make us film?” lando didn’t sound convinced, and max didn’t buy a single second of it.

“if that’s what you think flirting is i feel sorry for all of your ex girlfriends, you must be a horrible boyfriend - ouch!” charles was cut off by a shove from george.

“stay out of this charles!”

“i won’t stay out of this, y/n is actually a friend of mine. yeah that’s right she doesn’t hate me because i don’t assume that any girl who is fractionally nice to me is in love with me.”

“lando you basically tortured that girl her entire formula one career, do you need to do it now as well?” max said, “i think this season will be a lot easier for you if you drop this now.”

“is that a threat?”

“it’s a promise.”

all the bickering surrounding the pair ceased, tension rising in the air. the call for the mclaren boys drew lando out of his stare down with max. the brit joined oscar at the front of the queue and painted on his PR smile.

y/n had found her way to her seat, flanked by natalie pinkham on one side and jenson button on the other. there goes her plans for a quiet evening.

“so the rumours are true,” jenson said before jumping up to give her a hug, “i’ve missed you, rocky”

y/n flushed at the nickname. since her first ever race in formula one, jenson had crowned her his ‘pocket rocket’ which had eventually been worn down to just rocky. she hadn’t heard it in so long, jenson’s appearances being relegated to messages via sara or flowers that only gave away his identity with the use of rocky.

“did sky set up this seating arrangement? are you going to ambush me for an interview?”

“i can’t believe you’d think so low of me,” jenson clutched at his imaginary pearls, “and as if you can say no to me anyway.”

the pair took their seats as the show started. natalie handed her a glass of champagne and whispered in her ear, “you might need this.” well that doesn’t bode well.

the two mclaren drivers made their way out onto stage, joined by zak and andrea. y/n leaned into jenson, “i don’t understand why he insists on being everywhere, have we not suffered enough?”

jenson tried to stifle his laugh, “are you sure you don’t want to work in commentary?”

“i think it’s best i keep my opinion on these men to myself.”

the mclaren spiel followed the closely the same scripts they used when y/n still raced for them, though a healthy dose of constructors champions boasting had been added. a second questionable decision from formula one reared it’s head when nico rosberg asked his first unscripted question:

“so boys, how do you feel about the return of former mclaren driver y/n y/ln to the paddock? excited to see her?”

y/n swore she could see lando’s eye twitch from her front row seat. there was an awkward pause and y/n could feel the rest of the audience tense. even though the general public didn’t know the ins and outs of the fall out, there was definitely rising suspicion.

nico found y/n in the audience and gave her such a shit-eating grin that she almost didn’t care about the situation he just put her in.

“we’re of course over the moon to see her back in the paddock. i know i’ve harboured a lot of guilt as to how i ended up with my seat, so i’m happy that y/n can see me in action and hopefully i can continue to make her proud!” oscar said with a genuine smile, the only convincing one from the men clad in orange.

“continue to?” nico asked, “have you had confirmation of this?”

y/n’s eyes snapped to oscar who despite receiving glares from his boss, continued on.

“we spoke at charles’ cocktail party. i’ve always been a fan of hers and it was great to finally set the record straight. she was a lot more graceful than i would’ve been in her position. to be honest i was a bit of a weepy mess, but she was very supportive. i’m only slightly jealous of kimi…”

“very nice. did you get any insight on her opinion on hungary?” nico pushed, only to be cut off by zak.

“if you so desperately want her opinion on everything, you can wait until you’re on sky’s dime. this is a car launch, no? we’re confident in our car for this season and intend on winning both championships. and do you know how we’re going to do that? with the two drivers on stage right now, not one who was a flash in the pan four years ago.”

you could hear a pin drop in the venue. even lando had a shocked look on his face as he and oscar exchanged a look.

“that’s fighting talk from the man who ended her career, but what do i know?” nico said sharply but then turned to the audience, “ladies and gentlemen, mclaren!”

there was tentative applause from crowd and when y/n and oscar made eye contact she gave him a small smile. this was only the first team…

nico looked for y/n in the front row and gave her a thumbs up to which she shook her head violently. jenson burst out laughing, “well, i don’t think we’ll be having this as the car launch format again.”

“i don’t know about you but i’m throughly entertained,” natalie said, “if nico was like that with mclaren, i can’t wait for ferrari!”

the next few teams were decidedly less dramatic. y/n could see kimi and george lining up next to come on stage and she hoped the italian remembered her advice.

george walked on stage with confident strides, followed by toto and finally kimi. the italian looked out at the audience, squinting from the harsh lights but calming his features when he saw y/n. she gave him a thumbs up and got a smile in return.

“you’re loving this mum role aren’t you?” jenson said.

“you’re making me feel old, stop. but yes i would kill myself if anything happened to him, so i guess so.”

back on stage, nico had started his interview. first toto was being grilled about the hopes for the season and how life at mercedes would be without lewis hamilton. the german was clearly trying to bait his former boss into giving him a juicy soundbite.

“kimi, let’s come to you now. you’re first season in formula one and you’ve already brought in the big guns? y/n y/ln as your mentor, that’s a big statement.”

kimi looked startled and his eyes snapped to meet y/n’s. she nodded to him, urging him to answer.

“why wouldn’t i want a legend of the sport like her as my mentor? she still knows what she’s doing, and if it ruffles some feathers in the paddock at the same time, what’s the harm?”

she was so proud of her protégé. jenson choked on his champagne at kimi’s answer, “kids got balls.”

“well, well, well. you’re not beating around the bush are you? but do tell me, kimi, what’s so special about you that y/n would come out of retirement?”

“i’ll save that answer for australia, nico,” kimi said, surprised by the laughs from the audience, “but maybe i’ve just got a charm the rest of the grid doesn’t?”

“holy shit,” natalie said, “was this the strategy, y/n?”

“i told him to make them like him? are you not entertained?”

nico, for once, was speechless on stage. george huffed next to toto, waiting for his turn to talk. the german clocked onto this and a devilish smile broke out on his face.

“so george, you and y/n grew up together… do you not have charm? as far as we can tell, you haven’t spoken to y/n in years?”

y/n’s mouth dropped open. jenson was right, there’s no way this format, at least with nico hosting, was ever happening again.

“i have more than enough charm, thank you nico. are you going to ask us anymore questions about the season or is it all just tabloid questions from you tonight?”

“tabloid?! well, now that makes me think you’ve got something to hide… but as for your 2025 season, are you afraid that you might lose to an 18-year-old rookie?”

george sputtered in response, “i have no fear of losing, i just beat a seven time world champion, a rookie, no offence, has no bearing on my season.”

“that’s a big claim, george. you better hope you stick to it. it’ll be your sixth season in formula one, do you think you’ll finally be able to claim the number one driver role?”

george’s face was getting redder and redder as he tried to remain calm. he made eye contact with y/n briefly, giving her the subtlest glare he could.

“i think i made a very good case for myself for the last two seasons and toto has faith in me to lead this team back to where they should be.”

nico had a wolfish grin on his face, he was enjoying this psychological torture a little too much.

“you don’t think toto has more faith in kimi, a driver he allowed to skip an entire step on the junior ladder and is giving his formula one debut at just 18? and straight into a mercedes rather than say… a williams?”

george’s shiny mask was starting to slip. this was meant to be a fun event for fans but had descended into a nico rosberg masterclass of making everyone suffer - and for once y/n was enjoying it.

“classy as always, nico,” george said.

“it’s what i do best,” nico laughed to himself, “back to you kimi, are you intimidated at all by your senior teammate? do you think you can make a case for yourself as the number one driver?”

the italian paused for a moment, thinking to y/n’s advice - he needed people to like him.

“i’m more than happy to play a team game to bring mercedes back to the top,” he smiled to toto, “but make no mistake i’m here to win and i won’t just step aside without good reason.”

“well, this is a duo i’ll be watching closely this season. mercedes!”

the trio shuffled off of stage and y/n let out a sigh of relief, she could throw back as much champagne as she wanted now.

another couple of teams made their way past nico’s questioning, but as nico hulkenberg and gabriel bortoleto made their way off of the stage the audience held their breath. next was ferrari.

charles, lewis and fred vasseur made their way on stage, and as has become classic fashion, lewis situated himself as far from nico as possible.

“welcome, welcome. a different line up this year and much to think about, do you think you can finally bring the championship back to italy?”

fred started on what was likely a pre-written script and y/n tuned out for a second. the ferrari boys looked nothing short of glamorous in their tailored black suits with the yellow of the ferrari logo popping on the left breast. both men looked assured, no nerves, just pure confidence - the type of confidence that draws you to a person.

y/n caught lewis’ eye and he gave her a quick wink, something that did not go unnoticed by jenson beside her.

“what was that all about, rocky?” jenson whispered. y/n kept looking forward, ignoring jenson’s stare burning into the side of her head. the brit kept poking her, “i’m not going to stop until you answer me!”

y/n batted his hand away, “i don’t know what you’re talking about old man, leave me alone!”

“i saw that, hell, the whole place saw that! you are aware that is a man 14 years your senior!”

y/n downed her champagne and whispered to jenson, “listen, i don’t know what the fuck is happening! he came to my apartment and he’s being really nice? i don’t know?!”

jenson looked between the two and grabbed his own champagne. “i was teammates with that guy! you might be a grown up now but he’s really old!”

y/n slapped a hand over her mouth to stop her laughing out loud. jenson did have a point. was lewis actually flirting with her or was he just being nice? was she falling into the same headspace that lando and george were in with her?

“i am not going to get with lewis, jens. he’s just being nice, that’s all. now shut up i want to see if nico makes the brocedes breakup all of our problem.”

nico had finished his interrogation of charles and set his sights on his former teammate. y/n grabbed jenson’s hand in anticipation.

“so lewis, new team, new you? how do you feel coming into a team where charles has dominated for the last five years?”

lewis gives nico a forced smile, “i am excited for the challenge. there’s a lot of changes coming into this season, people leaving and new faces. it’s best to face a challenge head on rather than running.”

“you didn’t run from mercedes? you didn’t want to stick it out and retire with the team that gave you so much success?”

“you’d know all about running wouldn’t you nico?”

y/n dropped her glass of champagne and the rest of the audience gasped but nico did not look phased at all.

“i am happy with my decision, time will tell if you’ll be happy with yours. charles dealt with sebastian, don’t think he’ll roll over for you.”

charles looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but on stage and fred’s face would tell you he’s at the gallows rather than a car launch.

“was in your brief today to make the vibes in here as rancid as possible? as i said i am excited for the season ahead and nothing you can say today will change that.”

lewis took the lead and left the stage, leaving nico alone with a pleased look on his face. the german found y/n’s gaze again and wiggled his eyebrows. if there was ever a man you need to take the heat off of you, he was the one.

there was one final team to go and this entire nightmare of a night would be over. the final team was none other than red bull - nothing could possibly go wrong here could they?

christian, like the other team principals, started with a long-winded spiel that said a whole lot of nothing. y/n smiled widely when she caught max’s eye and he responded with an eye roll directed at christian’s rambling. the dutchman, for a second, had forgotten he was in fact on stage in front of thousands. the pair stare at each other and bite their lips to keep the laughs in.

jenson leaned in again, “not to keep questioning you, but what is happening here? and don’t lie, i know he’s the only one you kept in contact with and who you have been staying with in monaco.”

“it’s nothing! it’s something? i don’t know what it is? we’re just existing together. i think romance in the paddock is the worst thing for me right now. i need to be fully focused on kimi.”

“first of all - we’re exisiting together? that’s so fucking gross. and two - you’re still allowed to have fun?” jenson wiggled his eyebrows.

“not everyone can be the playboy of formula one, stud.”

“true. i’m not sure you have the devilishly good looks to be a playboy - hey”

y/n snatched his glass of champagne and turned back towards the stage just as max took to the microphone.

“so max, do you think there’s a chance of a fifth title in a row?”

max laughed in his signature way, “here i thought you’d gotten all of your aggression out with lewis. we’ll have to see how we line up against the other teams, but you always have to believe you can win every single race, so that’s what i’ll continue to do.”

a quick glance from nico told y/n that her peaceful night hadn’t started just yet.

“you’ll finally have your best friend back in the paddock, are you still excited even though she’ll be in mercedes uniform?”

“i think toto has another thing coming if he thinks she’ll be wearing that ugly uniform,” max said, “but it makes no difference to me what garage y/n is in, we’re like magnets, you can’t keep us a part for long.”

nico hummed, “is that why you were the only one she kept in contact with after the crash?”

“yes? it’s mostly because we’re best friends but also because i’m a decent human being.”

oh fuck.

“how do you mean, max?”

christian tried to butt in, “i don’t think we need to go into that here.”

“oh i’m more than happy to, and nico has been stirring all night, what’s just a little more to add to the pot?”

you could almost hear the audience shuffling to the edge of their seats and for the first time that evening, y/n felt some of the cameras on her. she gave them a small wave and hoped they would pan back to the actual action.

“all i’m saying is that there are a lot of victim complexes in the paddock, it’s full of people who would rather say ‘i don’t know why she doesn’t talk to me?’ rather than do some actual introspection. y/n will talk to you if you’re not an asshole, just as kimi.”

“so you’re saying there’s a truth to the rumours?”

“which rumours? you know, since your employers like to report on so many?”

nico chuckled, “well, the rumours that perhaps the brits in the paddock didn’t get on as well as we were led to believe?”

max smiled, “well, that’s not my story to tell, but i’ve found that if you ask them, they’re more than happy to give you the scoop.”

for a moment, y/n’s heart stopped, fearing that nico would take this as the chance to bring her into the fray. max seemed to sense this as well and added, “but as for me, i’m just happy she’s back in any capacity. i’ve missed my partner in crime.”

“have you spoken about formula one in her break at all? you won all four of your titles in that time?”

“i know she watched it, but we haven’t spoken about it. i respected her boundaries at the time, but i knew she was watching based on some suspiciously timed texts.”

nico laughed, “i’m not sure we can ever stay away from this sport for long.”

“i’m glad that is the case,” max said, more to himself than anyone else.

the red bull boys were ushered off of the stage as nico delivered his closing remarks and announced the musical guests.

“he’s glad that’s the case? oh he’s in deep,” jenson gasped, “you can’t tell me that’s nothing, i rebuke it right this second.”

y/n sighed, standing and heading to the backstage bar. “i really don’t want to think about it jenson.”

“but you’re staying at his house, he’s building shit for your cat and gushing about you on stage!”

“i am well aware, but i don’t really know what you want me to do about that?”

“i want you to get your man and let him treat you how you’re supposed to be!”

y/n picked up another glass of champagne, talking the biggest sip before replying to jenson.

“you’re just as bad as the girls on twitter sometimes.”

kimi bursts through the doors, back in his comfy clothes, and rushes over to y/n. she wraps the italian into a hug.

“i’m so proud of you!”

kimi blushes, rocking back and forth on his feet, “thank you, y/n! i’m so glad we’ve got this out of the way i’m ready to race now!”

jenson laughed along side them, “an eager one, this one. i remember when i had that much energy.”

the rest of the drivers flooded into the room, grabbing drinks or just taking a seat. max, much like kimi, made his way straight to y/n, also pulling her into his chest. he whispered in her ear, “i’m sorry i got carried away talking about you, i just can’t help myself.”

y/n can’t help but feel the butterflies in her stomach at the confession. she was really trying to keep her feelings out of her return to formula one, but seeing max like this was putting a real spanner in the works. the dutchman’s protective nature along side his intense respect for her made her feel special for the first time since the crash.

“i take no offence, maxy. i’ll never say no to a compliment, especially from you.”

the group moves away from the bar and as they settle into their seats backstage, max’s arm wraps around her waist. y/n knew she shouldn’t do it, not here in front of everyone but that’s what her heart wanted. the first few weeks into her return and all the drama was wearing on her and they hadn’t even made it to the paddock yet. she snuggled into max’s side, letting the dutchman brush her hair out of her face.

“y/n?” kimi said from the other side of her, “i’m really happy you’re here, and i hope you’ll let yourself have this,” kimi motioned to max, who was deep in conversation with jenson.

“don’t you worry about that, kimi.”

“you’ve punished yourself for years, please don’t keep telling yourself that you’re not allowed this. also don’t wait up for me, i’m going to crash at ollie’s”

kimi said as his departing gift as he went to catch up with ollie and watch some of the music. y/n let herself relax back into max’s hold and her eyes close, all of the pent up stress of the evening rushing out.

“are we really that boring?” jenson asked.

“do you want to get out of here, y/n?” max asked, when y/n flopped further onto him, he took that as his answer.

grabbing her bag, max took y/n’s hand in his and pulled her from the seat. the pair exchanged hugs with jenson and made a quiet exit from backstage. they tried to be as subtle as possible, but nothing is ever secret in formula one.

jenson slid in beside lewis at the bar.

“you want to tell me what your plan is with her?”

lewis looked at his former teammate in confusion.

“i saw that wink and i know you were flirting with her when you went to her apartment. what’s the plan, you’re 14 years older than her?”

“i don’t have a plan? i felt bad about how i was when she was in formula one, i’m just trying to make her feel welcome again.”

“and winking at her at a televised event is definitely going to help?”

lewis scoffed, “i don’t really like what you’re implying.”

“i’m implying that you need to watch your step, seriously. the vultures are just waiting for her to make one wrong step, don’t give them an excuse to call her a gold digger or anything along those lines.”

“and what if i said i did like her?”

“i’d ask you if you actually know her? you didn’t speak to her after the crash, you didn’t speak to her when she was in the sport so i’m confused to where this would have come from?”

“you can drop the dad act jenson, i’m just being friendly. it looks like max got in there first anyway.”

jenson hummed, “not everything is a competition.”

y/n and max climbed into max’s hire car for the weekend and finally let themselves breathe.

“that was a lot,” y/n said, slipping off her heels, “nico really was out for blood.”

“i found it entertaining, but that usually is a death wish for anything in formula one.”

the pair laughed, and as max turned the ignition, y/n’s taylor swift playlist crackled into life.

“are you heading back to your hotel or do you want to crash at mine?” y/n asked as she put her address into the gps, despite max knowing nearly every route across london to her apartment.

“a chance to avoid team duties for as long as possible? count me in!”

“so you don’t want to spend more time with me? just want to avoid your team?”

max placed his hand on her thigh, “you know i always want to spend more time with you.”

the streets were relatively clear at this time with the event still in swing. max weaved through traffic as they entered west london. the dutchman nestled his car in y/n’s spot for her pink cadillac that was still in monaco. y/n started to fiddle with her heels to put them back on, but max stopped her.

he walked round to her side of the car and picked up her up bridal style. y/n giggled and wrapped her arms around max’s neck. the pair made their way up to her apartment as fast as possible, but made sure to say hi to frank who not so subtlety gave y/n a thumbs up and a wink.

the apartment was quiet without the meows of brando who was also back in monaco with jimmy and sassy. max stopped in the kitchen to pour two glasses of water but y/n went ahead to the bathroom to wash off the grime of the event.

she slipped into bed dressed in her pjamas that consisted of some old gym shorts and one of max’s toro rosso shirts. the dutchman knocked on her door.

“come in, maxy.”

max made his way into the room, placing the glass of water on her beside table. he sat on the edge of the bed, “good night, try not to dream of me too much.” the dutchman leaned down to give her a kiss on the forehead before moving back towards the door.

“max?”

“yes?”

“will you stay with me?”

“always.”

max got under the covers and tentatively reached out to her. sensing the apprehension, y/n turned over and tucked herself under max’s chin. his arms snuck around her waist and for the first time in three years, y/n finally slept peacefully without the images of her crash.

fin.

note: sorry this took so long, i've been a bit of a writing rut but i'm back!

taglist: @folkloresreputation @hc-dutch @shimmermotorsport @96mcobo @eclipsedcherry @formulaal @czennieszn @gothicwidowsworld @emily-b @suns3treading @henna006 @kazgirl20 @anotherapollokid @littlegrapejuice @daemyratwst @annimausi @yawn-zi @lulu-1998 @xsilkesworld @justaf1girl @daddyslittlevillain @evans-dejong @abq654 @elizamoe133 @wierdflowerpower @t1nkerbel1 @okcurran @raizelchrysanderoctavius @skepvids @multilovebot @fernandoalonso14 @jules-kup-172 @m4xgirlie @rorabelle15 @minkyungseokie @formula1-motogpfan @peterholland04 @miureiz @freyathehuntress @lighttsoutlewis @aleatorio1234 @chaosandevelyn@blueberry648579@dog-and-cat-person230@fastandcurious16@obxstiles@cosmicwintr@becca388510@savagittariuspy@tibadi @thisbitxhs-blog @finn-dot-com @scenesofobx @moofilms @alilstressyandlotdepressy @nana-love-bugzzz @mayax2o07 @obsessed-fan-alert @1-queenofpotatoes-1 @jajouska @poppysrin @mimimarvelingmarvel @jiyumie @heeseungthel0ml 

[hyeinette]

✿⠀ ⠀⠀⠀𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌 𝗆𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠 𝗆𝖾!⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ─── ⠀ their fav places to be kissed by you.

f!r⠀ ♡ ⠀ est relationship fluff kissing skinship 𝑓.⠀ ───⠀ 16OO >ᴗ<

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀𝑙𝑖𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑟𝑦⠀⠀⠀୨୧ ⠀⠀⠀𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀⠀〝⠀ 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚⠀⠀⠀𝑙𝑖𝑝𝑠

"just one more, please.” heeseung asked, though there was no question in his tone.

you’d kissed him again for the somethingth time that night. at first, it started out chaste, so how you were now on your boyfriend’s lap kissing him like there was no tomorrow was beyond your knowledge.

“hee, i really need to—” your words were muffled and fruitless against his lips.

heeseung knew it’d soon be too dark for you to leave, but pulling away seemed like a crazy thought, especially now, because of the way you were kissing him so dearly while tugging at his hair.

he loved kissing you, for your lips tasted honey and something foreign that only you wielded.

to his dismay though, you pulled away too soon, staring at him with swollen lips, ragged breaths, and flushed cheeks.

“stop,” you booped his noise playfully; a stark contrast to the zeal prior. “i have to go.”

“maybe one more kiss?” he bargained, pushing your handbag back to the floor when you tried to pick it up before his hands once again found purchase on the slightly exposed skin of your waist.

“well, one turns into twenty turns into fifty with you, so no.” you said, giggling at the way he groaned and threw his head back dramatically.

“you’re boring.”

you feigned a gasp. “i’m plenty fun, thank you very much.”

heeseung scrunched his nose and dumbly tried to stop you from leaving by nudging your lower leg with his foot (it didn’t work).

“if you were fun, you’d kiss me again.” he said with a shrug.

“no,” you responded curtly, gathering your keys and scarf.

he groaned again as you slipped out of his room, sticking your tongue at him. “boo!”

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚⠀⠀ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑

jay was the type to be romantic, and you were the type to pick up on your lover’s little habits. you noticed how jay always kissed your hand: before a date, before bed, while in the car… anywhere, really.

soon enough, you found yourself returning the gesture.

one day, the two of you were curled up in bed, his arm around your shoulder and your head atop his chest.

you were near the point of sleep, but you felt the need to stretch this moment with his for as long as you could.

as your eyelids betrayed you and nearly shut, the sound of jay’s laughter vibrated through his chest, jerking you back awake.

“sleepy?” 

“no,” you lied.

“liar,” he said, “what’s making you stay up?”

you hummed some response and lifted your head off his chest, turning towards his hand before placing a lingering, sleepy kiss on the back of it.

jay tensed under your lips for an instant, but then he smiled and relaxed, the familiar feeling of your lips on his hand gave him déjà vu. you were doing what he so often did to you.

he held your chin and turned your head towards his, so that you had no choice but to stare into his doting eyes.

“get some rest, my lovely girl.”

and with that, you did, falling asleep to the cadence of his heartbeat and the lullaby of his presence.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡⠀⠀𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑛𝑒

“jake!” you whined, running up to the boy who was seated in his gaming chair, clicking at a controller which you never understood.

your voice greeted him before your face did, and he turned abruptly, looking for you. at the sight of you, spent and so so tired, with bags under your eyes and a telling pout on your lips, his heart dropped, and he opened his arms for you.

you accepted the offer, burying your face in the crook of his neck and sighing against his skin, eliciting a shiver from him. his arms wrapped around your waist and ran along your back.

“i—” kiss, “am—” kiss “so—” kiss, “tired—” kiss, “today!” kiss.

between every word, you trailed an open-mouthed kiss down his collarbone. you weren’t exactly sure why, but you just wanted to make sure he knew how much you appreciate him. and you wanted to kiss him, too, but hey.

jake’s smile grew with every kiss. you were so cute in his eyes, always knotting up his mind with every action—especially when that action was kissing his neck.

whenever you did so, you made his heart stop, and then beat at a rate tenfold faster. it was just such a sweet, intimate thing to him.

he pulled your head up to face him, memorizing the sight of you. still pretty, even when exhausted at 11:41 PM.

“well,” he teased, “not too tired to kiss me, i guess?”

your eyes narrowed. “don’t ridicule me.”

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡⠀⠀𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑

sunghoon felt you were the only person he could let his guard down around. usually so rigid, he always eased up when he was laying between your thighs, staring into your eyes as you worked your fingers through the slight tangles in his hair.

he was tethering between sleep and wakefulness, and you could tell. you didn’t mind him falling asleep like this in your arms. 

he shifted slightly and looked up at you, eyes flickering to your lips. you didn’t waste another second before leaning down, pushing his hair away from his forehead and then kissing him there.

sunghoon let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding before smiling up at you, running his hand across your cheek gently.

“you seem comfy,” you teased, leaning into his touch.

“i always am with you.”

you blushed and bit your lip, not entirely sure how to answer.

“go to sleep.”

you didn’t have to tell him twice. sunghoon found himself drifting off to sleep, with the thought of your warmth and your lips on his forehead still fresh in his mind.

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢⠀⠀𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑙𝑦

the two of you decided to bake a strawberry sponge cake this sunday. rather an impromptu decision, really (actually, it was because you wanted homemade cake).

you were tasked with cutting up a bowl of strawberries, while sunoo made the chantilly cream. simple, in theory, but sadly, you had no baking experience whatsoever!

sunoo was at first staring at you with a smile, the erupting adoration he held for you in his chest reflecting through his dilated pupils. but then, as his eyes shifted to your rushed slicing, he gasped dramatically; his reverence turning into repulse.

“what are you doing!” he exclaimed, taking the knife from you.

you shrugged innocently, tilting your head so that your hair poured over one shoulder. “what you told me to?”

“i didn’t tell you to slaughter the strawberries,” he huffed before cutting the strawberries, this time more gracefully.

you giggled, plucking an uncut strawberry from the bowl. “whoops.”

“put that down,” sunoo said with mock-seriousness in his tone.

he wasn’t actually annoyed at you. never at you.

you looked at him with faux innocence, and then brought the half-eaten strawberry up to his lips. sunoo bit down on it, and that made you blush. an indirect kiss.

“well,” sunoo said, but his voice was less dictatorial now, and noticeably more soft, “you could at least pretend to help me with the baking.”

“right!” you nodded and furrowed your brows. “i’ll preheat the oven. you know, we should just heat it at 8,750 degrees for one minute, rather than 350 for 25.”

“y/n, no! don’t touch that oven!”

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡⠀⠀𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑡

the first time you kissed his wrist, it was before a dance performance.

his nervousness was evident, manifesting in the frenetic way he'd paced back and forth and adjusted his loose tie for the nth time.

"you'll do great. you always do," you assured him, looking up at him with a supportive smile and a slight tilt of your head.

jungwon furrowed his brows, staring down at your perched figure, “but what if i mess up?”

his hand sought your face (it eased him, or so he said), running his fingers over your cheekbones slightly. you couldn’t help not leaning into his touch, holding onto his forearm.

“you won’t,” you placed a feathery kiss on his wrist, his pulse and cologne fluttering right under your lips. “i know you won’t.”

the action of your lips on his wrist, though small and barely even tangible, was there; for reasons inexplicable, it soothed him, and a blush ripened jungwon’s cheeks. he found himself suddenly smiling, as if his prior worries were a thing of the long past.

“you always know just what to say, baby.”

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜⠀⠀𝑐ℎ𝑒��𝑘

riki was already really tall, and standing next to your shorter figure just accentuated his height, if anything.

whenever the two of you were in public—say, in a crowded shopping mall—and you wanted a kiss, you’d sometimes be too shy to ask, especially with all the people standing around the two of you.

so, you’d pull on his arm, so that he was slightly more level with you, and then you’d tip-toe, leaning up just enough to reach his cheek.

at this point, riki was turned towards you, his attention fully on you, more so than it always is.

you placed your chin on his shoulder and peppered a casual kiss there.

riki liked your little shoulder kisses. one, because they were sweet, and two, because they always led to him grabbing your chin and tilting it up to face him.

he’d admire your coy grin for maybe a second or two before his eyes darted towards your lips, and he was suddenly filling the distance between the two of you, pecking your lips tenderly; all the people around you two suddenly seemed to disappear.

sure, he might’ve hated PDA, but to kiss you, he could make an exception.

[vnti-vnxiety-recs]

STRETCH (M)

★ PAIRING: cheerleader!Jaemin x cheer captain!Reader

☆ WORD COUNT: 4k

★ GENRE(S): smut

☆ SUMMARY: Jaemin can't fit into his cheer uniform anymore because he's been working out too much. While you can't help but admire his muscles, you realize the entire team is admiring him too and that's not going to fly. You decide you need to take action and get Jaemin a new uniform

★ ☆ WARNINGS:  unprotected sex, creampie, semi-public sex, explicit sexual intercourse, MDNI

☆★ NOTES:  The concept of cheerleader Jaemin is just too hot to me so I had to spin the block on this one. Continuation of Team Spirit! that can be read as a stand alone!

────୨ৎ────

Jaemin has been bulking up lately. He had always been really into fitness and a bit of a gym rat, but since joining the cheerleading squad, he hadn't had time for his regular workouts, Now with competition season over he was back at it and you couldn’t help but notice the results. His chest looked fuller, and his arms rippled with defined muscle, showing off all the dedication he’s been putting in.

But as much as you loved his body, it was definitely time for him to size up his uniform.

His chest was starting to press tightly against the front of his shirt, the stretchy spandex doing little to hide the swell of his muscles. The uniform shirt he wore was a crop top that showcased his abs. That was a sight that was already causing issues, stealing your attention at the wrong time. But this? This was far beyond what anyone should have to deal with. The fabric was strained to its limit, and each breath he took only made it worse.

You doubted that going up a size in spandex would make much of a difference, but something had to give—he was practically bursting out of his uniform. You couldn't take your eyes off him.

Standing on the opposite side of the gym, you watched him closely as he moved. Sweat glistened on his brow, and his toned arms flexed beneath a snug black spandex top. To be honest, it was quite a sight. You enjoyed observing the way his body moved in the uniform, but then reality hit when you noticed the rest of the team admiring his outfit as well.

The fun was over, that shirt had to go. You weren’t deaf to the whispers that drifted around the locker room when your teammates thought you weren't listening. You overheard them making comments about how good he looked. You had to forcibly push aside the twinge of jealousy that threatened to creep in, reminding yourself to stay composed and maintain a level head. You were captain, you couldn't just go on a jealous rampage.

You did eventually find a bit of solace in making those who had whispered about him run extra drills. It felt good to dish out some consequences for their gossip. Plus, the glare you shot their way throughout practice was enough to let them know you were aware of their little comments. After that, suddenly no one had anything to whisper about anymore.

Strange how that works.

You walked into the locker room after practice, a small bag in your hand. “I ordered you a new top,” you said casually, trying to avoid eye contact. Jaemin was always able to read you like a book and you were beyond embarrassed at the fact you couldn't focus during practice because of his boobs. He did not need to know what thoughts swirled around in your head.

Jaemin's head turns towards your direction, a curious expression on his face. "What's wrong with the one I have now?" he asked.

You shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. "It's getting stretched out. It's time for a new one."

He looked unimpressed, clearly not buying your excuse but after a moment of silence, he shrugged and said, "Okay."

It wasn’t until Jaemin put on the new uniform top that you realized the mistake you had made. As he stood in front of you in the locker room, the shirt hung loosely around him, nearly swallowing his athletic frame. The baggy sleeves sagged at his arms, and the hem of the top drooped far below his waistline. You could see the dissatisfaction written all over his face as he scrunched up his nose in distaste.

"Uh, this… isn’t really the right fit, is it?" he asked, trying to tug at the fabric to adjust it.

"I swear it looked smaller online." You mentally kicked yourself for not double-checking the sizing.

Jaemin turned to face you fully, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. "So, what? I’m just going to run around in a tent now?" His tone is playful.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair in frustration. "I’ll order you something else. I promise I’ll get the right size this time."

"I just don't see what's wrong with my old one," he said, pulling the shirt over his head and tossing it aside.

You hesitated, trying to find the right words as you eyed him. "D-don't you think the other one is a little tight?" you ask.

Jaemin shrugged, clearly unfazed. “Feels the same to me.”

You took a breath, trying to be subtle. “In the chest area,” you emphasized, hoping to steer the conversation in the right direction, trying to give him as much of a hint as possible without sounding too blunt.

He paused, a thoughtful look crossing his face as he glanced down at his torso. “Is that so?”

“It’s just that your old one hugs your body… a little too well, you know?”

Jaemin's eyes widened as he caught on. "Ohhhh...I see.” A smirk played on his lips. “Then I think it fits perfectly."

For a moment, you were at a loss for words. The way he looked at you—the confidence mixed with mischief—made your stomach flutter. You felt yourself blush, caught between wanting to call him out and being completely distracted by how effortlessly charming he was. "I'd agree if the entire team didn't think the same thing," you muttered, trying to deflect.

Jaemin's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Kinda like how the gym feels about you and your cute little spandex shorts during summer practice?" he asked, voice dripping with playful sarcasm.

You felt your face heat up as he mentioned your shorts. You'd always thought they were just a comfortable choice, until the day he told you how much they showed off your ass and banned you from wearing them. "They're comfy," you said defensively, trying to brush it off.

Jaemin raised an eyebrow.

Okay, whatever," you huffed, eager to shift the topic. “But back to the point, this was supposed to be about finding you something that actually fits.”

"So what if it's a bit stretched out now? It's got character. Plus, it's like my lucky shirt now."

You shook your head, laughing. "Lucky shirt?" You echoed, incredulous.

He nodded, a fierce look on his face. "You can't keep your eyes off me when I wear it, so it must be lucky,” he says.

You groaned inwardly; he was going to be so insufferable in that shirt now. Why had you ever mentioned how it affected you? You could already tell he was going to exploit this newfound power over you.

Rolling your eyes with a shrug, you replied, “Whatever.”

You’d just have to come up with another plan to get rid of that shirt once and for all.

—

Ever since you discussed your thoughts on Jaemin's shirt, you could swear it had gotten tighter. You were convinced that the shirt held some sort of magical power of enchantment because you couldn’t focus. You were missing cues and forgetting routines left and right, all while Jaemin pranced around in his annoyingly snug shirt.

It was almost as if he was wearing a compression shirt that not only accentuated his chest but also highlighted his stupidly disgusting slutty waist that you definitely didn’t want to grip onto while he pounded you into the nearest surface. You were losing your grip on reality, and all of it was thanks to him and that evil shirt.

You found yourself watching Jaemin when you really shouldn’t. He was in the middle of his routine, and you had only seconds left before your cue to come in on the opposite side of the mat. You didn’t have time to think about your face buried in his chest, or how firm it would feel under your fingertips.

Your teammates began to notice your distraction, and whispers started to circulate about your sudden lack of focus. "Dude, you okay?" one of them asked, nudging you playfully. You forced a smile, trying to brush it off, but you knew you weren't fooling anyone.

Suddenly you hated cheerleading. If it weren't for cheer, Jaemin would never have become a cheerleader, he wouldn't be sporting that top, and these thoughts wouldn’t be plaguing you now.

You missed your cue because of course you do, and the irritation in Seungkwan's expression was immediate.

“Okay, how about we take a break? I feel like everyone isn’t checked in today,” he said, his gaze sweeping over you with a pointed intensity. You roll your eyes instantly regretting making him your second co-captain next to Nayeon.

As you step off the mat you go straight to your water bottle, you need to cool down. Your eyes naturally find Jaemin and you swore you saw a brief smirk flicker across his face, only to vanish just as quickly. Did he think this was a game? Did he find it funny?

You would show him funny.

When you showed up in the spandex shorts Jaemin had banned you from wearing to practice, there was no humorous twinkle behind his eye anymore when he'd caught sight of you. His face fell, eyes glued to your thighs.

“Oops,” you said playfully, walking past him with a bounce in your step. As you moved, you could feel his gaze lingering. "Let's have a good practice today, everyone!" you called out to the floor

Nayeon leads the stretches, and you follow along with the rest of the team on the floor. You don't bother pulling the hem of your shorts down when they roll up, knowing full well what it did to Jaemin. You  sit on the floor with your legs straight out Infront of you in a seated pike stretch. You reach out to touch your toes, tilting your head just enough to catch Jaemin’s reaction in the corner of your eye. Just as you expected his eyes haven't left your ass since you walked into the gym.

You pulled yourself back up straight, trying to play it cool as seungkwan announced for everyone to find a partner for stretches. Jaemin was at your side in a heartbeat.

“Next break, you’re changing out of those,” Jaemin says firmly, leaving no room for argument. He pulls you to stand in front of him, your back to his chest. His grip on your waist is strong. His hands travel and In one fluid motion, he grabs your thigh spreading your legs apart, then slides down the back of your thigh until he hooks under your knee. With a gentle lift, he raised your leg into a heel stretch, his fingers gliding sensually up your leg until they rested at your calf.

“Says who?” you challenged, trying to maintain your composure. “These are comfy, and they let me stretch to my full potential.” You tilt your head to look at the position he’s bent you into.

He’s so close that you can feel his breath against the back of your neck, the heat radiating from his body pressing against you. You could feel that he’s hard pressed up against you.

“Also, I don’t remember asking for your permission to wear whatever I want,” you add.

Jaemin stretches your leg a little further, not enough to hurt, but definitely enough to make you feel the burn.

“You’re going to take them off, or I'll do it for you.”

As you stretched, a whine escaped you, and your lips instinctively pouted. "Fuck you," you spat out.

His response came swiftly: "Watch your mouth." He spits back.

He slowly lowered your leg, and once you caught your breath, he met your gaze with a challenging look in his eye. Jaemin was the sweetest thing but he would always be quick to put you in your place when you step out of line. He gestured for you to drop into a split, and with a subtle dip of your head, you secretly rolled your eyes but reluctantly obeyed.

You ease into a split and Jaemin situates himself on his knees behind you, his body leaning against yours in a warm press of heat. He gently pushes you forward, his hand gliding down to rest on your lower back for support. You lean into a saddle split, hands splayed out in front of you as you stretch forward.

Jaemin adds pressure and you're forced to delve even further into the stretch. His body provides an added push against yours, testing your limits. You grit your teeth, drawing on your flexibility to hold the position, but you could feel the burn.

It's not easy to hold the position, even with how flexible you are. You're used to bouncing back up, shaking out your muscles, and moving on to the next stretch. But with Jaemin's guidance, you're forced to push your boundaries and remain still, letting your body adapt to the demands of the stretch.

"Jaemin let me up." You huff.

“Gonna take ’em off?” he quips, a teasing lilt in his voice.

“Fine!” you relent.

Jaemin allows you to sit up and once you catch your breath he helps you stand. He looks you in your eyes as he tugs on the hem of your shorts, pulling them down just enough after they’ve rolled up, raising an eyebrow at you in a silent dare. "Keep them that way," he stated with an air of authority, making your cheeks burn in annoyance.

“Okay, guys, back to your positions! We're going to start routines soon!” Nayeon called out.

With Nayeon and Seungkwan in charge of leading stretches, it was now your turn to step up and guide the rest of practice. You burn holes into the back of Jaemin's head as he joins up with Shotaro as practice officially starts.

—

After everyone else had cleared out, you found yourself cornering Jaemin in the locker room.

“This isn’t fair,” you grumble, crossing your arms. “If I can’t wear my shorts, you aren’t allowed to wear that stupid crop top.”

Jaemin turned to you, a playful glimmer in his eyes. “Is that what this is about? Can’t keep your eyes off me, so you decided to pull this stunt? I thought you were more mature than that, baby." His smirk widened as he leaned against the locker, arms crossed over his chest. The way that obnoxious top clung to his newly bulked-up frame was maddening.

“Newsflash, Jaemin. I wear those because they’re comfy.” you shot back, rolling your eyes as you stepped closer to confront him. "You wear that shirt because you like, some kind of attention whore. How do you even breathe in that thing?” Your voice echoed slightly in the empty locker room, bouncing off the tiled walls.

His laugh was low and utterly infuriating, the casual way he dismissed your frustration only stoking the fire inside you. He pushed off the locker, closing the distance between you in two easy strides. Suddenly, his hands landed on your hips, warm and firm, pulling you close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him.

“And what if I am?” Jaemin murmured, his breath brushing against your ear. His fingers dug into your waist, holding you firmly in place. “It got your attention, so what are you going to do about it? You gonna punish me for it?”

Your breath hitched. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. You were supposed to be mad at him. But the way he looked at you, all dark eyes and that cocky grin, made it hard to think straight.

“Maybe I will,” you shot back, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. Your voice wavered just a fraction, betraying the confidence you were trying to project.

Jaemin’s smile deepened, and before you could react, he spun you around, his body pressing your back against the cold metal lockers. He pinned you there, solid and unyielding. One hand slid up your side while the other gripped your thigh, lifting it over his hip slightly so he could press himself closer.

“Go ahead,” he dared, his voice dropping to a low growl. “Punish me.”

The challenge in his tone sent a shiver down your spine. You could feel how hard he was pressed against you, and it took everything in you not to squirm. Instead, you raised your chin defiantly.

“Don’t think I will?,” you warned, though your voice came out softer than you intended.

Jaemin’s lips curved into an amused smile, and he leaned in, his mouth brushing against the shell of your ear. “You won't.”

His hand slid to your hips, fingers slipping past the waistline of your shorts to toy with you. You bit your lip to stifle a gasp, but it escaped anyway, the sound embarrassingly loud in the quiet room.

“Let me hear you baby, I know.” he teased, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your clit. “I can tell, you know. Every time you look at me during practice. You get that naughty look in your eyes when you know you're supposed to be focusing. Bad girl.” He coos.

“Shut up,” you muttered, though your protest lacked any real conviction. His touch was too distracting, his words too close to the truth.

Jaemin chuckled, pulling his hands from your shorts. “Make me…or are you done pretending to be in charge.”

That did it. You shoved him back, pressing your palms against his chest. He stumbled slightly, his back hitting the row of lockers opposite you.

For a moment, you just stood there, breathing heavily, staring each other down. Then, without thinking, you closed the gap between you, grabbing the hem of his stupid uniform top and yanking it up.

Jaemin’s eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t stop you. You tugged the shirt over his head and tossed it aside. You let your gaze roam over his body, taking in the changes that had occurred. His shoulders were broader than before, his chest more defined. The faint trail of hair leading from his navel downward made your mouth go dry.

“Happy now?” he asked, his voice rough.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you leaned in, catching his bottom lip between your teeth in a quick, punishing bite. He hissed, but his hands immediately found your hips again, pulling you flush against him.

“Not even close,” you whispered against his mouth before kissing him properly, hard and demanding. Jaemin responded instantly, his tongue sliding against yours, his hands roaming your body with a urgency that made your head spin.

Somehow, you ended up on the bench, his weight pressing you down into the hard wood. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a path of fire in their wake. You arched into him, your hands tangling in his hair as he kissed his way lower, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot just above your collarbone.

“Jaemin,” you gasped, your voice barely audible.

He lifted his head, meeting your eyes for a brief moment before capturing your mouth again. His hands slid under your shirt, cupping your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. The sensation made you moan into the kiss, and Jaemin grinned against your lips.

“Not so bossy now huh captain?” he murmured.

You glared at him and opened your mouth to retort, but the words died on your tongue as his hand slipped lower, past the waistband of your shorts. His fingers brushed against the slick warmth between your legs, and you couldn’t stop the tremble that ran through your body.

“Fuck,” you breathed, your nails digging into his shoulders.

Jaemin’s smile was downright predatory as he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours. “You’re so wet already,” he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction. “All because of me? or maybe it was because of that crop top you claim to hate so much? You like it, admit it.”

You wanted to deny it, to push him away and regain some shred of control. But instead, you tilted your hips, silently urging him on. His fingers dipped inside you, slow and deliberate, and your head fell back against the bench.

“Jaemin,” you moaned, his name becoming a broken chant on your lips. His thumb circled your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through your core. You writhed beneath him, desperate for more, but he kept his pace agonizingly slow, drawing out every sensation until you thought you might explode.

“Tell me what you want,” he said, his voice dark and commanding.

You shook your head, refusing to give him the satisfaction but Jaemin wasn’t having it. He withdrew his hand, leaving you aching and empty, and propped himself up on his forearm above your head to look down at you.

“Say it,” he demanded, his eyes burning into yours.

You swallowed hard, your pride warring with the need coursing through your veins. Finally, you gave in, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I want you. All of you. Now.”

Jaemin didn’t need to be told twice. Jaemin swiftly strips you down, his hands moving with practiced ease. The cold wood of the bench bites into your back as you make contact, sending a shiver down your spine. The locker room was cool and you can’t help the goose bumps that prickle your skin. He reached for the waistband of his pants, shoving them down just enough to free himself. Once he's between your legs you reach out, gripping him in your warm palm and stroking him over a few times. His mouth hangs open in pleasure. He watched, breathless as you brush his tip against your entrance. Once you dip the head in he's taking over again and pushing his hips forward to drive into you in one smooth motion. The gasp that escaped your lips was swallowed by his mouth.

He starts at a brutal pace, not in the mood for anymore games. His hips snap against your ruthlessly and you have to wrap your legs around his waist to stop yourself from sliding off the bench. Jaemin groaned, his forehead resting against yours as he moved.

“You feel so good,” he breathed, his voice ragged. “Fuck, you’re perfect.”

Your body trembles as the pressure builds inside you. He slips a hand between your bodies to toy with your clit. You arch your back in response. As your legs began to tremble, you felt Jaemin's smile pressed against your skin when he kissed your shoulder.

“That's right baby. Is this what you needed?” he murmured between choppy breaths, his voice low and sultry.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head at his unrelenting thrusts and cruel fingers. You didn’t respond, couldn’t respond. Your mouth opens to respond; you know better than to remain silent, but nothing comes out. You nod your head lazily instead.

He shakes his head at you disapprovingly. “You know that's not good enough princess. Use those fucking, words.” He punctuates each of his words with a toe curling thrust of his hips as he pumps into you.

“Yes! F–fuck, don't stop.” You cry.

“Mmm,” He moans before leaning down to kiss you again. The kiss is wet and full of tongue as he licks into your mouth. “Gonna fill you up.”

When you finally came, it was with a cry that echoed off the walls, your nails scratching down his back. Jaemin followed moments later, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep inside you. You shiver as his hot seeds spill inside of you. When he pulls out his eyes watch as his cum drips out of you. You reach down in between your legs and collect his cum before pushing it back inside of you with a moan.

“Don’t want to waste a drop.” Your voice comes out in a whisper.

Jaemin eyes you hungrily before he closes his eyes to take a deep breath. He needed to calm himself before he had you pinned up against the lockers next.

Jaemin gets up before he decides to have you again, getting off the bench to rummage through his bag. He comes back to you with a towel and cleans you up. He gathers your clothes and helps you dress again before following suit.

“So,” he said after a while, his voice still rough, “how do you really feel about the crop top”

You turned to look at him, incredulous. “Are you serious?” You couldn’t wrap your head around how he effortlessly switched from driving you wild to being your sweet boyfriend in an instant.

He laughed, a warm, rich sound that seemed to fill the chilly locker room, and pulled you closer. “Dead serious.”

You sighed, unable to meet his gaze. “I… I like it.” You admit.

Jaemin's smile widened, but just as he was about to respond, you jumped in to clarify.

“BUT! That doesn’t mean I’m letting you wear it to practice. We’re going to order you the correct size, and as for that one,” you said, your gaze narrowing playfully at the shirt still lying on the floor, “that one is for my eyes only.”

“Deal.”

[zephyrchama]

(Based on that one scene from B99)

“Lucifer, your wrist looks kind of funny.”

All eyes turned to the Avatar of Pride when Leviathan pointed this out. They were supposed to be organizing the house library, but it was a long and boring task. One that everyone wanted to finish quickly, yet nobody could find the motivation to make any real progress.

“Oh no! What happened?” Asmodeus leaned over a table to try and steal a peek. Lucifer’s wrist was, indeed, bent in an odd manner. He used his non-dominant hand to shuffle some papers in order.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m fine.”

“Yeah, Asmo!” Mammon jeered. “Back off, leave the guy alone.”

Lucifer ignored his brothers, icy gaze focused on the documents in hand. They were papers that had been misfiled and did not belong in the library. He reminded everyone in the room to “behave yourselves” before disappearing into his office.

Curious eyes followed him until he was truly out of sight. Then, the brothers exchanged fascinated looks. It’s not every day that Lucifer get injured.

“Alright, everybody bring it in. Huddle up.” Mammon ushered everyone to come close with a sweep of his hand. The boys reluctantly formed a loose circle.

“What are you up to now?” Belphegor asked with a sigh. “I want to finish this already.”

Mammon pretended not to hear as he whisper-shouted, “so, he wouldn’t say what happened, which can only mean one thing.”

”He’s in a fight club,” Beelzebub suggested.

“No. He did it doing something he’s embarrassed by.” Satan was quick to catch on to the truth.

Beelzebub followed up with, “oh. Could be a sports injury. I sprained my wrist playing fangol last year.”

“Really? I don’t remember that,” Belphegor said.

Leviathan asked, “you think Lucifer was playing fangol?”

A deep growl suddenly came from the doorway. There was no warning or indication that Lucifer would be back so quickly. Yet, the man in question had returned. His menacing quickly caused the group to shut up.

“I can hear you speculating about the nature and origin of my injury from my office, but I don’t think it’s relevant to your jobs. The jobs you should all be doing right now. Get to work.”

The brothers scattered like roaches back to their respective corners of the library. All except for Satan, who Lucifer beckoned over with his finger. Satan hesitated at first, but it was better to go along with Lucifer when his mood was sour. The two stepped out for a minute, far enough away that no one else would overhear.

“What?” Satan was fed up with this conversation and it hadn’t even started.

“Do you want to know how I actually hurt my wrist?

Satan’s eyebrows flew up and he took several seconds to think about the question. What an odd offer. There was nothing for Lucifer to gain by telling him this, was there? Though, if he spent too long thinking Lucifer might change his mind and leave his little brother wondering what happened forever. With an oddly docile tone of voice, Satan responded, “...Yes.”

While Satan was busy wondering how to respond, Lucifer had taken out his DDD. He was scrolling through a menu in search of something. “I was hula hooping. Diavolo and I attend a class for fitness and for fun.”

“No way.” Satan's true thoughts leaked out. It was so dumb, it couldn’t be true.

Lucifer raised his phone to Satan’s eye level. The proof was there. ”I’ve mastered all the moves. The pizza toss. The tornado. The scorpion, the oopsie doodle.”

With each and every silly name, Lucifer swiped to a new photo on his phone. There he was, doing the pizza toss. Showing Diavolo how to do the scorpion. Performing a flawless oopsie doodle. Satan was stupefied, his mouth ajar.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because no one…” Lucifer selected all of the images. He tapped on a trash can in the corner of the screen. The images, every last one, disappeared. “…will ever believe you.”

“No!” Satan lunged for the phone in vain. “You sick, twisted, son of a-”

“You got your answer," Lucifer told him. "Get back to work."

[strawberrymoosetracks]

I read this as if it were in the modern day, and that the aforementioned God of War has taken on the modern form of someone who would be consitered the most powerful soldier, or the epitome of modern war. To me, the epitome of modern war is just a relatively fit guy who sits in a room with a PC. Heres my take on it, I didn't put much effort into this so sorry if it sucks :)

I've got to hand it to humans, they are great at making things efficient. Their innovation is beyond any other species I've encountered. One of their favorite things to make more efficient is war. Back in the old days, they trained young men, put them in armor, gave them a sword, and marched them thousands of miles for a fight against other young men who were similarly armed.

They started including horses, which sped up the transportation process. Then they came up with guns. A marvelous invention really. It made war much quicker, but it also forced armor to get better. As much as I liked the shiny armors, it was always too loud. It was nearly impossible to sneak anywhere, and seeing was a nightmare.

Nowadays, the most powerful warmonger is a guy at a desk. One may think that is crazy, but in all fairness, that guy has the ability to shoot a thousand suns at whoever they want to. I've had this job for eighty years, under three seperate faces.

I love efficiency...but the God of War gets bored when the people capeable of war are too scared to fight eachother. The Cold War ranks the lowest out of all the fun wars. Sooo, I look for fun in other ways. I started in the eighties when I could find someone who wasn't an anti-war hippie, but wasn't a complete jerk. That was when I realised my love language. I love physical touch. It's like my kryptonite. Maybe it's that it's been years since any soldier was willing to hug, especially in high war time. I had forgotten how great it felt to hug.

And now we get to the modern day, I have a girlfriend. She's super sweet, but sometimes she has some...interesting ideas. We get into conversations and find out that she has the strangest ideas. We go to the bar with friends and get into conversations about the romans, and as someone who was there, I have to set them straight. They always brush me off, saying that it can't be true. Maybe in my next iteration I can become a historian and set these lies straight. Anyways, we were at a bar with some other soldiers, and we were talking about Ares. That used to be my name, but I have been though too many lives since then.

"You think you can buy the loyalty of the God of War with something as small as affection? Don't be stupid." Leah said, taking a sip of her drink.

As the others seemed to agree, I just had to intervine. "As the aforementioned God of War, she's wrong you can absolutely do that. I'm basically a cat; pat my head and l'l be your loyal servant for... five minutes, give or take?"

The group was completely silent. They all stared at me, trying to work though it. Leah started laughing, "You're funny, Levi. You don't even get in real combat. Like come on." She slowly stoped laughing as my face continued to be serious. "You're not joking? You really think you're the God of War?"

"I don't think, I know." I said, staring into their blank faces, "Ok watch." I looked around the bar and eyed two guys who were friends. I pointed at them, and they immediately became enraged. They yelled at eachother, mostly nonsense. There was no real greivance, just some pent up anger I was using. One was about to swing when they suddenly stopped, sitting down and continued to talk as normal. I turned back to my drink and took a small sip.

I took a deep breath in and out, my shoulders dramatically rising and falling. It had been centuries since I told anyone I was the God of War. Since the romans went out, people stopped believing in pantheon gods. I would have shown the middevial europe my real self, but I had inconveniently been turned into a woman at that time. Calling myself a God was an easy way to get burnt at the stake, and getting out of that was too much work.

"No way..." My girlfriend muttered, staring at me.

I slowly turned to her, "Well, do I give loyalty for head pats?" She nodded slowly, her mouth agape.

My buddy next to her slowly leaned over and patted me on the head, "Please don't kill me."

I smirked, "Wasn't planning on it." I drank the rest of my drink and set it down, not really knowing how to start back up the conversation. It just became dead silent, everyone grapling with my revealed identity. Well I just ruined the night with this again, teaches me to never reveal myself with my close friends. So many centuries into this, and I apparently still have many things to learn.

—"You think you can buy the loyalty of the God of War with something as fickle as affection? Don't be foolish." —"As the aforementioned God of War, she's wrong. You can absolutely do that. I'm basically a cat; pat my head and I'll be your loyal servant for… five minutes, give or take?"

[reignpage]

how do you think jjk men are with embarrassing moments during sex? like if something embarrassing that happens to either them or their partner, do they play it off, try to inject humor, swear off sex to be a monk?

i read a similar post by an author advocating for well, not just more realistic depictions of sex in fics, but to include some of the awkwardness present in them too?? their post included geto’s hair getting stuck in butt cracks, Toji pulling a muscle, Nanami losing his boner, and Choso full on shitting himself accidentally to help with reader’s embarrassment over queefing 😭😭😭

like yes it’s funny and bonkers but cuz sex isn’t always the passionate sexy fuckfest we see in fics/movies, people don’t always cum at the same time, yes you DO need lube AND prep, foreplay DOES matter, dryness or losing an erection midway no matter how horny you are is common yano?? 😤😤

lowkey wanted to go anon lest you call me perpetually horny 😭 but ignore me if my shit’s getting old

own your shit bae, no pun intended. ur horniness could never get old. I like these questions cause they're like brain teasers. okay okay lemme have a go

Gojo:

says a cringy line

I can totally see him trying something new that he thinks would be super sexy like

"oh yeah? you like that? you're such a dirty whore, aren't you? come on, cum and show me who you're daddy is."

reader will pause and stare at him like, did you hear yourself?

gojo will have a moment of realisation and give himself the ick. even he has limits.

he collapses on top of reader and begs her to forget that, will be a blushing mess.

he'll think about it once in a while and cringe

but in the moment, he'd throw a tantrum if you can't stop laughing and making fun of him.

"it wasn't that bad! you're being mean, seriously. I just got caught up, okay? stop laughinggggg"

gets very pouty, protests, and you have to seduce him back, really compliment the hell out of him

then he'll force you on top and make you take the lead so he doesn't give himself another opportunity to be embarassing

Geto:

trying to switch positions in a tight space and then you accidentally rest your elbow on his long hair and he almost rips outs chunks

probably gets irritated because you've damaged his brilliant hair

takes a breather and then starts back up again

punishes you during sex

will crack a smile if you do

"yeah, alright, laugh it up. but if I develop a bald spot, neither of us will be laughing."

will make sure that never happens again

might even pull your hair during sex to show you how it feels (not too hard obvi)

Choso:

might get too subby lol

like "am I a good boy mommy? am I doing good? I don't want my mommy to be mad at me" and he's in tears

idk how to write mommy kinks lol

and you both have a moment of clarity where it's like, damnnn you okay? didn't know you had trauma like that

he'll get very shy and embarrassed

might even start crying, trying to run away

you'll have to reassure him it's fine and then just go slowly and gently, having more loveydovey sex

late at night, he'll ask you if you really didn't mind because he doesn't want you to be freaked out or think he's not a man

but I imagine it'd become a kink you indulge him once in a while

just gotta teach him it's okay, just don't spring it on someone mid act lol

Toji:

trying a really acrobatic fucking position, whether in the living room or in the shower, gets his footing wrong and slips, smacks his head against the wall, takes you down with him

he knocks himself out

you have to wrangle his 200 pound or something body in to a safe lying position and wait for him to come to

when he does and he remembers what happens

bro is in denial

no he didn't slip

no he didn't overestimate himself

no it didn't hurt

no he's not embarrassed stop asking him

gets very grumpy and will storm off, grumbling under his breath

comes back calmer

neither of you mention it but it hangs in the air as you both prepare dinner together

once sat across each other, you make an eye contact and you burst out laughing

he rolls his eyes but he's got a smile on his lips

"yeah yeah, what fucking ever. you try lifting your heavy ass up whilst you're balls deep"

next time tho, he gets you back by forcing you to endure vanilla sex, going very slow and shallow and overly sweet

makes you beg for him to fuck you normally

he'll consider it

Nanami:

drunk sex, becomes wayyyy too emotional

"sweetheart, you're the most beautiful thing in the entire world, I love you so much do you know that? I honestly -hiccup!- c-can't live without you, oh goodness, please don't make me live without you!"

he's still inside, he's not even thrusting anymore, he's just crying into your neck like a baby

you're brushing his hair, shushing him, orgasms forgotten

might vomit on you a little

wakes up with a killer hangover and a night full of memories he wishes he could erase

"oh god, honey. I'm so terribly sorry. I can't believe I did something so ridiculous. no I know loving you openly isn't ridiculous, but I wouldn't be wrong to say crying, leaving you unsatisfied, forcing you to care for a man child, and cherry on top, vomitting on you is just a little ridiculous."

has to go make it up to himself for being a terrible husband

will spoil you for the rest of the week

or anytime he remembers

might actually drink less because of it lol

Sukuna:

he'd kill you if he did something embarrassing

pray he never does

[fear-less]

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 she ignored my letter!

pairing: james potter x f!reader

➥ In which, James writes you a love letter and hides it into your luggage carrying your clothes, not knowing he put it in a pocket you never open.

Warnings: angst, fluff, james pov, this inspired by awae (aka the best show ever)

a/n: heyyy... i had sm fun writing this, can't wait to write the rest of this bc i literally LOVE anne with an e and this is inspired by it ofc!!!! anyways, im barely writing now..smh, its cause im reading manacled and its literally heart breaking... im also editing on ae and its so hard so im slowly learning😭 but i want to finish this mini series by next week!!

series masterlist ! - divider creds: i-mmaculatus & dollywons

James had liked you for a while now. He wasn’t quite sure when it started—maybe it was the way you laughed at his jokes, always the loudest in the room. Or perhaps it was when he’d catch you staring at him, your gaze lingering just a bit too long, thinking he was too distracted to notice.

With the Christmas holidays fast approaching, James knew he had to make a move. He had to let you know how he felt. If you didn’t feel the same, maybe the time apart over the holiday would make it less awkward. But he couldn’t let another term slip by in silence.

Knowing your love for all things old-fashioned, James decided there was no better way to confess his feelings than through a handwritten letter. It felt personal, genuine—something you’d appreciate. But writing it turned out to be harder than he imagined.

He’d written and discarded at least a dozen drafts, each one crumpled and tossed aside in frustration. Finally, after half an hour of agonizing over the perfect words, he settled on this version. It was short, straightforward, and sincere:

Dear, (Y/N)

I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a complete idiot. I’ve tried a hundred times, and every single attempt has been worse than the last. So here’s the truth—I’m hopelessly in love with you.

You’ve probably guessed I’m not great at being subtle. But what I’ve never been able to say outright is how much you mean to me. The way you laugh, the way your nose scrunches when you’re concentrating—Merlin, you make it impossible to focus on anything else. I want you to know that you’ve made me braver, happier, better. If you don’t feel the same, that’s okay—I just needed to get this off my chest.

Yours, James

He sighed deeply, folding the letter carefully before slipping it into an envelope. Your name was written on the front in his slightly shaky handwriting. Taking a steadying breath, he tucked it into the inside pocket of his robes. He’d leave it somewhere you’d find it tomorrow, just before you both left for the holidays.

As he lay awake that night, James tried to figure out the best way to deliver the letter. Should he hand it to you directly? No, that was too nerve-wracking—he’d probably end up babbling like an idiot. Maybe he could slip it into your bag and avoid the risk of witnessing your reaction.

The morning was crisp, the kind of cold that painted your cheeks red and sent little clouds of breath swirling in the air. On the platform, the train sat waiting, puffing out plumes of steam that mingled with the frosty air. It was alive with the sound of students saying goodbye and dragging their luggage over the cobblestones.

James walked beside you, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He was doing his best to appear casual, though every step he took felt heavier with the weight of the letter in his robe.

“Let me take that for you,” he blurted suddenly, nodding toward your luggage.

You blinked, surprised by the offer, but your lips curved into a warm smile. “Oh, thanks, James. That’s really sweet of you.”

He shrugged, trying to play it cool, but his ears turned a telltale shade of pink at your words. “What kind of bloke would I be if I didn’t help you out?” he mumbled, his voice tinged with nervous humor.

The two of you chatted as you strolled toward the train. You told him about your plans for the holidays—how you were excited to see your family, how your mum always made far too much food, and how you couldn’t wait to decorate the tree. James listened intently, nodding and laughing at all the right moments, even as his mind raced ahead to the task at hand.

Then, his opportunity came.

You turned away for a brief moment, waving at one of your friends across the platform. James acted quickly, pulling the envelope from his pocket and slipping it into the outermost compartment of your bag. His fingers brushed the fabric for only a second, but it felt like an eternity.

His heart was hammering so loudly he was certain it could be heard over the clamor of the platform. He straightened up just as you turned back to him, completely oblivious to what had just transpired.

“Thanks again for carrying that,” you said with a smile, your eyes meeting his.

James gave a small, lopsided grin and shifted your bag on his shoulder. “Anytime,” he replied, his voice steady despite the storm of nerves swirling inside him.

As the train’s whistle blew, signaling it was time to board, James knew there was no turning back now. All he could do was wait—and hope that when you found the letter, you’d read it and understand the words that had taken him so long to say.

It had been days since you’d left for the holidays, and James still hadn’t heard from you. Each passing day only worsened the sinking feeling in his chest.

Did you not feel the same? Did you hate him for ruining the friendship? Or worse, were you so disgusted by his confession that you couldn’t even bear to send him a letter saying so?

By Christmas morning, the knot of worry in James’s stomach had become unbearable. He’d stopped pacing and pretending not to care. He spent the early hours staring at the window, waiting for an owl that seemed as though it would never come.

But then, just as the first rays of sunlight streamed through his frosted window, he saw it—a familiar owl perched outside, clutching a small envelope in its talons. His heart leapt with a desperate flicker of hope. Maybe you’d only just found the letter. Maybe you’d taken your time because you wanted to write something perfect.

James hurried to open the window, shivering as the cold air rushed in. The owl extended its leg, allowing him to untie the letter. “Thanks, mate,” James murmured, absently offering the owl a treat before it flew off into the winter sky.

His fingers trembled as he opened the envelope, eager to see your handwriting. But his heart sank the moment he read the first line.

“Happy Christmas, James!”

No mention of his letter. No response to his confession. Just a short, cheerful note wishing him a wonderful holiday and apologizing for not writing sooner. You explained that things had been hectic at home and promised to catch up with him soon.

James felt his chest tighten, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. The hope he’d been clinging to was slipping through his fingers.

You’d ignored his letter.

You’d chosen to act as though he’d never written it at all, as if he’d never poured his heart out on that piece of parchment.

James scoffed, his grip on the letter tightening. Fine, he thought bitterly. If you were going to pretend his confession didn’t exist, he could do the same.

He shoved the letter onto his desk, glaring at it as if it were the source of his frustration. Deep down, though, he knew the truth: he didn’t want to ignore you. He wanted to write back, to ask if you’d found the letter, to make sure you weren’t upset with him.

But pride was a stubborn thing, and James Potter wasn’t about to let his vulnerability show again—not now.

As the snow fell softly outside his window, James sat in silence, staring at the letter and wondering if he’d made a mistake by ever writing to you in the first place.

When it was time to return to Hogwarts, James made no effort to find you. Normally, he’d scan the platform, pretending it was a coincidence whenever his eyes landed on you. This time, he couldn’t bring himself to look.

He saw you anyway, just briefly—standing near your family, your face lit up with that familiar smile. His heart leaped in his chest, and his legs almost betrayed him, ready to stride over and say something, anything. But he stopped himself.

Instead, James turned sharply, mumbling a quick goodbye to his parents before heading onto the train. He didn’t want to see you—not now.

The walk through the train felt heavier than usual. He knew exactly where his friends would be—the same compartment they’d claimed since their first year—but it felt like an eternity to get there. When he finally slid open the door, the familiar faces of Sirius, Remus, and Peter greeted him.

“Oi, Prongs!” Sirius called cheerfully, but his grin faltered when James slumped onto the seat next to Peter with a loud huff.

James leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. He could feel Sirius’s gaze on him, curious and probing.

“What’s got your wand in a knot?” Sirius asked, unable to resist.

“Don’t.” James’s voice was sharp, firm. It was rare for him to be in a foul mood, let alone snappish.

Sirius raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I won’t say a word.”

The tension in the compartment was palpable. The train rattled on, and the usual chatter of the four friends was noticeably absent. Sirius kept stealing glances at James, who sat brooding, arms crossed. Peter fidgeted nervously, while Remus flipped through a book, clearly uncomfortable with the silence.

Finally, about an hour into the ride, James broke.

“She ignored my letter.” His voice was low, bitter, but it shattered the quiet like a hex.

The others exchanged looks before Peter spoke hesitantly. “She really ignored it?”

“Yes, Peter,” James snapped, his tone sharp enough to make Peter flinch. Realizing what he’d done, James sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine,” Peter mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

“Maybe she didn’t see it,” Remus offered, his tone calm and rational. “What if it got lost in her luggage? Or someone else found it and hid it? Maybe you gave her another piece of parchment? There’s always a chance—”

“Moony, no.” James cut him off, his voice strained. “I double-checked. It was the right letter, in the right spot. And who doesn’t check their trunk full of clothes over the holiday?”

“Maybe she doesn’t,” Sirius said with a shrug, trying to lighten the mood. “You know, women can be unpredictable. Maybe she’s got a secret stash for random letters in her trunk.”

“No, she checks,” James said with certainty. “I’ve slipped plenty of things into her luggage before, and she’s always found them. She just doesn’t fancy me back.” His voice cracked slightly at the end, but he forced a small, bitter smile. “And it’s fine. I’ll get over it. I always do, right?”

The compartment fell silent again, the weight of James’s words sinking in.

Sirius leaned forward, a flicker of frustration in his eyes. “It’s not fine, James. If she didn’t fancy you back, that’s one thing. But ignoring you? That’s—”

“Don’t,” James interrupted quietly, his gaze fixed on the floor. “Don’t make it worse, Padfoot.”

Sirius bit back a retort and leaned back in his seat, muttering under his breath.

The rest of the ride passed more comfortably, but the shadow of James’s disappointment lingered. His friends cracked jokes and told stories, trying to lift his spirits, but even when he laughed, it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Deep down, James wondered if he’d ever stop wishing that you’d read his letter and felt the same way.

Hours later, everyone had gathered in the Great Hall. The enchanted ceiling reflected the dusky evening sky, and the buzz of students catching up after the holiday filled the room. Normally, James would sit with Sirius to his left, you to his right, and Remus and Peter across from him. It was a familiar arrangement, one you’d fallen into without question.

But tonight, James broke the routine.

He subtly nudged Peter into the spot on his right before sitting down, leaving the space where you’d usually sit conspicuously empty.

You walked in a moment later, scanning the Gryffindor table until you spotted your usual group. But when you approached, your steps faltered. Peter sat where you always did, looking apologetic but saying nothing.

Your eyes darted to James, silently questioning him, but he avoided your gaze, his attention fixed stubbornly on his plate.

Confused, you looked to Remus for an explanation. Out of all the Marauders, he was the one you trusted most to give you a straight answer. But Remus only shrugged, his expression carefully neutral, though the twitch at the corner of his mouth hinted at discomfort.

You scoffed, your chest tightening. First, James ignored you all through the holiday, and now he didn’t even want to sit near you? Fine. If he wanted to sulk like a child, you weren’t going to beg for his attention.

Without another word, you turned on your heel and walked further down the table, sliding into a seat beside your other group of friends. You forced yourself to laugh at their jokes and join in their chatter, but your mind kept wandering back to James.

At the Gryffindor table, James’s eyes flicked toward you more often than he’d admit. Every time he saw you laughing with your friends, his stomach twisted.

“Why is she acting like I’m the one in the wrong?” James muttered under his breath, jabbing at a piece of roast potato with his fork.

“Maybe because you’re acting like a prat?” Sirius replied, his tone laced with amusement as he leaned closer.

James shot him a glare.

“Look, Prongs,” Sirius continued, dropping the teasing. “She doesn’t know what’s going on. You didn’t even give her a chance to explain, and now you’re sulking like a first-year who lost his chocolate frog cards.”

“Explain what? She ignored my letter, Padfoot. What’s there to explain?” James hissed, though his tone lacked its usual conviction.

Remus sighed, setting down his goblet. “Did it ever cross your mind that maybe she doesn’t even know what letter you’re talking about?”

James froze, his fork hovering mid-air.

“Just talk to her, mate,” Sirius said, giving James a nudge. “Or don’t. But if you keep this up, you’re only making it worse—for both of you.”

James huffed, slumping back in his seat. The truth was, he didn’t know if he had it in him to face you just yet.

From across the hall, you caught the way James’s shoulders sagged, and for a brief moment, you considered walking over. But pride held you in place. If James wanted to act like this, fine. Two could play that game.

You and James hadn’t spoken in what felt like weeks. The once effortless connection you shared had been replaced with an awkward silence that weighed heavily on you. It wasn’t just James—it felt like the whole group of Marauders had grown distant, their usual antics and inside jokes missing their spark when you were around.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d done something to upset him. But what? You racked your brain for answers, replaying every interaction from the past few months. James had always been one of your closest friends—why was he acting so strange?

Charms class was the hardest part of it all. You always sat beside James, sharing notes, exchanging whispers, and stifling laughs when Professor Flitwick wasn’t looking. Now, you sat in the same spot, the chair next to you glaringly empty.

You tried to focus on the professor’s instructions, but your thoughts were louder than his voice. Scribbling aimlessly in your notebook, you hardly noticed when someone approached your desk.

“Are you alright?”

Startled, you looked up to see a boy with a blue-and-bronze tie standing beside you. His face was vaguely familiar—you’d seen him around in class but had never spoken to him.

“Yeah—yes, I’m fine,” you stammered, blinking in confusion. Why was he talking to you?

He gave a polite, slightly amused smile. “Well, can you move your stuff? I’m sitting here now. We’re partners for the project.”

“Oh!” Heat rose to your cheeks as you hurriedly shoved your books to one side. “Sorry about that. I didn’t realize.”

“No worries,” he said, settling into the chair beside you. “I figured you weren’t paying attention—no offense. But I was, so I’ll explain what Professor Flitwick said.”

You managed a small smile, relieved by his casual tone. “Thanks. That’s… helpful.”

While he began outlining the project details, your focus wavered, glancing at James out of the corner of your eye. He was across the room, seated next to a loud and enthusiastic partner who seemed to be trying desperately to get his attention. But James wasn’t listening.

His gaze was fixed on you.

There was a flicker of something in his expression—jealousy, maybe? Regret? Whatever it was, it made your stomach twist.

You quickly turned your attention back to your new partner, nodding along to his explanation, even if you weren’t entirely listening. You felt James’s eyes on you the entire time, but you refused to look back.

Across the room, James’s jaw clenched. His partner waved a hand in front of his face, snapping him out of his trance.

“Oi, Potter! Are you even listening?”

“Huh? Yeah, sure,” James muttered, though his eyes drifted back to you moments later.

He hated this—seeing someone else sitting beside you, making you smile when that used to be his seat, his job. But he didn’t know how to fix it. The letter. The silence. The way he’d avoided you. It all felt too big now, too messy to undo.

Still, James couldn’t stop watching you, his heart sinking further with every laugh you shared with your new partner.

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[hotwife-larissa-returns]

Oh well, my hubby can’t stop doing silly and childish things. He still has that sense for competition and he seems to forget, that he isn’t the fittest and youngest anymore.

He envied that guy in the tennis club, but he was an arrogant and selfish asshole as well. He talked bad about my hubby behind his back and bullied him in front of others. One day I joined hubby and watched him playing with his friend. He played a great game and it was close, but hubby lost.

That guy was playing on the court next to hubby and he made fun of him and his age. That always hurt my hubby, he turned 50 last year and he struggled a bit with that. So he had a big mouth towards that bullish guy and before he realized it, he agreed to play a game against him.

And for some reason hubby bet me, if hubby wins the match, he‘ll stop making fun of him and will publicly excuse for his bad behavior again him. If he‘ll loose, that bully gets me as a trophy for a night… and he had to hand me over to him.

Hubby was highly motivated, but he already had a hard match that day and I doubted if he had the energy and stamina to make it a victory. Hubby did his best, but it was wuite obvious, that he can’t win that fight. But hubby didn‘t give up easy, he gave his best, but it wasn’t enough. And he had to congratulate that guy for his victory over him.

I was sitting in the club lounge and had a cocktail as they both came to me, that guy had a big smirk in his face and hubby looked like a beaten dog. 5ere were some other club members around and that guy just talked dirty to me and told me to kiss right here, what I‘ll enjoy inside of her that night.

Damn, he opened his pants and his soft cock looked so delicious… he as already twice the size in soft state compared to hubby, when he‘s hard. I did as he told me and kissed his cock, while trying to look my husband in his eyes. He wasn’t amused and the humiliation was just getting started.

„Your slutty wifey will surely enjoy this victory… I‘ll make her remember that, she will scream for more, cuckold. Yeah, I know what you are and how your wife earns more money than you weakling. I‘ll need a shower now. Well, you know, it wasn’t too hard and that game didn’t make me sweat too much. The main reason is, that I want your wife naked there to soap my body and get a little taste of what’s coming up for her tonight!“

He left to the dressing room and he whispered something to my hubby, which made him blush. He came to me and told me, what he said to him. He wanted me to follow him… naked. And hubby had to undress me right here and keep my clothes. Now I blushed, too. And I had another bug sip of my drink.

But a bet is a bet and I let hubby do his job, and the people around us got really interested in what’s going on here. I just stood there in my shoes and my underwear. Luckily I‘d chosen to wear panties that day. I just wanted to start walking towards the dressing rooms as hubbies mobile rang. It was him, reminding me to send me completely nude to him… and he should keep my ring as well.

Hubby had no choice… so I stripped down and let those guys here have a look at my bare benefits… they surely enjoyed the view. And I have to confess… so did I. That eyes on my naked body excited me and I wasn’t hurrying, I walked slowly and sexy to the shower room.

We spent nearly an hour in the shower and he wanted me to do some nasty things… and I did. But this was just some foreplay for him… we dried up and he wanted me to join him in his car. I wanted to get my clothes back from my hubby, but he said, he wanted me to stay naked. So I walked outside and joined him in his car, sitting naked and ready to be played with on the passenger seat.

He had a nice apartment in one of those suburbs, he had a garage, but he parked his car outside. Yeah, he surely wanted to show his trophy to his neighbors. And I thought, he might not doing this for the first time. His stamina was unbelievable, he could fuck for hours without shooting his load into me.

He had great self-control and I came hard multiple times. And he didn’t want to send me home the next day… he continued to use his trophy for two more days, before he told my hubby to pick me up at his place.

👩🏻😳😊🫦💦🍆😘💋💃🏻🔥💍😈🤷🏻‍♀️

[bloggerspam]

Fic of a Fic: Caroline meets Ellie

This is a direct homage to @clockwayswrites Caroline from their fic A Hill to Die on.

Ya'll can blame @deathlysilent13 for this.

Disclaimer: I am not super familiar with alters or systems, and in this AU Tim isn't thinking about it/stumbled into it--please do not take this an accurate experience in any way! It's just for fun :)

===

"You're pretty. Do you like boys?"

Caroline blinks. looking to her left and right, trying to find the source of the chipper voice.

It's 3am in the morning, she's just spent the last 5 hours dancing in heels—she can be forgiven for taking a little long to realize that the voice is coming from slightly below her sight line.

When she finally (blearily) looks down, a girl of maybe 7 or 8 is looking up at her with wide, bright blue eyes.

"Thank you." Caroline huffs a confused laugh, smiling as she leans down and braces on her knees to be a little closer and meet the little girls height. "You're quite the darling yourself you know."

"Thank you, I got it from my brother." The little girl blushes, apples of her cheeks truly working hard to turn the same shade as its namesake, but her wide-eyed curiosity is still not abated. "Do you like boys?"

"Yes, I do." Caroline tilts her head, biting her lip against a laugh. "But most boys don't like me."

"Well most boys are stupid." The little girl scrunches up her face in distaste, which is honestly too much cuteness for Caroline to handle right now. The Tim part of her is starting to wake up, albeit sluggishly, in the face of a possible lost child. "But my big brother isn't stupid! He's the best, actually."

"Oh?" Caroline looks around exaggeratedly, though she does scan the area the way Tim would. Nothing in particular to note. Weirdly empty for Gotham, but otherwise… "And where is this so-called best big brother? Little girl like you shouldn't be out and about so early."

The little girl looks shifty then, fiddling with her fingers and kicking up dust, mumbling. "He's still sleeping at his desk."

"His desk?" Caroline is a little worried now, truly. How far can a little kid walk? Caroline searches through her memories, but realizes that Tim's knowledge on such things would be heavily skewed and probably incorrect. Damian isn't the best example, and Tim used to stalk Batman. So.

"He fell asleep working." The little girl explains, before the beans truly spill out. "I'm supposed to be sleeping, but I wanted some milk, but Danny didn't have a blanket so I got him a blanket, and then I figured maybe he'd like some hot chocolate when he woke up, 'cause he always makes me hot chocolate when I can't sleep, or had a nightmare, but we didn't have any hot chocolate at home so I thought maybe I could get some hot chocolate, but the bodega's closed."

Caroline watches bemusedly as the little girl gesticulates her story, walking back and forth and presenting her case as if Caroline is the one who has the issue.

"And then I saw you, and you're like, really pretty, and I definitely think my brother would like you," The little girl beams up at her, as if she's done something great. "Jazzy said that Danny's been lonely, taking care of me all by himself. So I thought, if I can't give him hot chocolate, I can at least let him meet a pretty lady!"

Caroline laughs, she can't help it anymore, trying her best to stifle it in the echoes of the night. "Well now, that's very sweet of you!"

"Thank you!" The little girl wiggles in her happiness. "If you want to meet my brother, I think he'll be happy. We don't have to go if you don't want to though, Danny said consent is important."

"He's right." Caroline wipes a tear and smiles widely down at the little girl. "I'm also pretty sure he's going to be worried out of his mind when he wakes up and finds you gone, so how about we get you home, okay?"

"So you'll meet him???" The little girl jumps up and down in excitement, cheering, "He'll be soooo happy to meet a pretty lady like you!"

"That's very nice of you to say, darling." Caroline's eyes go half lidded in exhaustion, yawning as her smile quirks a little differently, Tim blinking a little more in the forefront. "But I'm afraid I'm not a lady most of the time. Most times, I'm a boy."

The little girl doesn't even hesitate. "Danny likes pretty boys too!" She reaches up a hand, as if waiting for Caroline, no, Tim? to take her hand and lead her home. "He'll be extra happy that you can be both!"

Tim doesn't know what to say to that—his skirt is starting to feel a little too tight, and his feet are killing him. Heels were a mistake, but at least his tights and sweater keeps him warm, even if it's off the shoulder and cropped. The sweater paws are appreciated at least.

"That's very equal opportunity of him." Tim decides to say, drawing it out as if unsure. It's very typical of Caroline to leaving Tim to clean up her messes. "But I'm not sure Danny wouldn't like a random stranger showing up on his doorstep with his little sister."

"Oh!" The little girl jolts, straightening up and putting her hand out for a handshake instead. "My name is Ellie Nightingale, I'm 8 years old, and I love my brothers and sister very much!"

"Hello, Ellie." Tim shakes her hand, deliberating before deciding fuck it. "My name is usually Caroline in this outfit."

Ellie eyes him up and down, scrutinizing him as she twists their clasped hands into a different hold and leading them seemingly towards her home. "But you're not Caroline now."

"I am not." Tim agrees, adjusting his gait into an awkward walk. His feet still hurt, but he's had worse as Red Robin. "Well, I am. But not. She went to…bed, I guess. So now I'm awake."

"What's your name now that you've woken up?" Ellie asks, stopping them at a crosswalk and looking both ways even though it's as empty as Gotham could ever get. Tim thinks on this for a moment, before again, deciding fuck it.

"It's Tim." He replies. "Caroline had a long night, and she thinks I'm better with children."

Ellie gives him a look for that. "I liked Caroline better."

Tim honks out a laugh, quickly covering it up with his free hand. "Sometimes I like Caroline better too."

"That's kind of sad." Ellie reaches up to pat Tim on his hip, the easiest place she can reach. "It's okay, Danny can like Tim better."

Tim feels his face hurt with how wide he's smiling. Kids are a riot. "Sometimes, when I'm a boy-boy, my name is Alvin."

Ellie shrugs. "Is he mean? If he's mean Dante might like him."

Tim, with a wobbly voice from holding in laughter, tries his best to answer. "He's sometimes a little mean."

"Dante can be mean with him. He's not as nice as Danny, but he's just as good of a brother." Ellie chirps, swinging their arms back and forth as she skips. "Do you have another name that Jazzy can like?"

"…I guess I was Todd Richards, once." Tim hums, swinging his arm with her and using his free hand to rub at his chin in thought. "Though he didn't stay long."

"Jazz doesn't like deadbeat men who leave." Ellie primly states, sticking her nose up. "Jazz deserves better."

"…Are you setting me up with all of your siblings?" Tim hesitantly asks, unsure how to explain that they're all monogamous, but like to share? He's never figured it out.

"No, just Danny." Ellie slants an offended look. "You have lotsa names but you're one person right?"

Tim feels lighter than a feather, and he's not sure how to explain that, so he settles for a nervous smile and nod. He's never actually sat down and thought through this whole identity thing in the first place—method acting gone wrong? Right?

Doesn't matter. Ellie's chill with it, so Tim's chill with it. Logic.

Take that, Dick. And Bruce. And Jason. And—

"It's okay to have a buncha names. I used to have a different name." Ellie continues over Tim's righteous thoughts, this time leading the way through a side alley. Tim is actually surprised how empty it is. "My creator was a dickbag though, and Jazzy said it's important for my i-den-ti-ty to have a proper one."

"Language." Tim bites his lip from snorting, noting the peculiar wording Ellie uses. "Creator?"

"Dante said it's okay if it's true." Ellie bites her lip, side-eyeing Tim as she pinches the fabric of her jeans. "And Danny says it's okay as long as Jazzy doesn't hear."

"Is that so?" Tim chuckles, subtly eyeing her fingers.

"It is so." Ellie sniffs, pinching the fabric of her jeans again. "Danny's the best like that." No pinching this time.

A tell. Tim hides his grin with a little cough. "Of course." Ellie seems to be pleased with Tim's agreeable actions.

They're just exiting the alley, coming around the bend, when the door to an apartment complex across the road swings forcefully open. A man, shirtless and NASA patterned pajama pants at barely cling to his hips shoots out, grabbing the before it slams against the wall, forcing it closed as gently as he can so that the security system locks engage. He's handsome even though his hair is a mess, with crease lines Tim can still see from all the way over here that indicate he was just asleep on possible pencil, maybe a screwdriver.

There are. Abs. And arms. Holy shit, those sure are arms.

Ellie perks up, zooming towards the man and dragging Tim with him. "Danny!"

"Ellie!" Danny's head whips up in their direction, the man running towards them with zero hesitation to scoop Ellie up into a hug. "Bug, you worried me, I woke up and you weren't there!"

Oh, shit, even his voice is nice, deep and raspy from sleep even through the sheer relief. Tim tries to focus on the conversation as Ellie recounts her obviously genius and completely founded (to her) reasoning on why she just had to leave the apartment, but ultimately fails.

Did he mention abs? And arms??

The man is taller than Tim by a good couple inches, and bulkier in the shoulders. He's robust, even with that shoulder to waist ratio that Tim (and Caroline) kind of want to aggressively bite at. Deliciously hunky, as Steph would say. He has a unique undercut that's all white, though the stop part of his hair is black as night.

His eyes almost glow green in the dinky streetlights, and Tim's kind of losing it at the soft helpless look the other man's giving his little sister once she's finished her explanation. He's got her sitting on one arm, holding her up so that their faces are level, with Ellie bracing her tiny hands on his shoulder and chest.

Tim kind of wants to cry.

"I know that—" Danny sighs, pinching his brow in a way only exasperated older brothers can. Tim knows, because Dick does it all the time. "I know that you're used to going out alone, but I thought we established that once you started living with me you'd tell me?"

Ellie purses her lips in what seems to be both guilt and indignation. "I did okay before. Nothing happened and I can take care of any bad guys!"

Danny's face crumples a bit for a flash of a moment, stabbing Tim in the heart like thirty million times. "Ellie, it's not that I don't trust you, it's that I care. What happened before…" Danny sighs looking a little distressed and at a loss for words.

Ellie reaches over, smooths a tiny hand over Danny's furrowed brow. "Ok. M'sorry Danny. I love you."

Danny smiles then, once more helpless, "I love you too squirt." Then, as if finally noticing Tim, Danny coughs and turns abruptly red. Like, super concernedly red, actually. Tim's worried he might feint.

"Oh, Ancients, sorry," Danny adjusts Ellie to put her down, but she clings to him, still a little upset. Danny smoothly straightens back up, patting her on the back as she nuzzles into his neck.

Seriously, Tim might die.

"Thanks for bringing her back to me." Danny reaches a hand out, "My name's Danny. Is there any way I can repay you for finding her?"

Tim almost says please date me but thankfully, Bat-training has him calm, collected, and in total control of his mouth.

"It's no problem," Tim smiles his best smile—a little awkward in Caroline's fit, but Tim's no stranger to women's clothing. "And I didn't exactly find her." Tim chuckles as he darts a glance at a now perked up Ellie.

"I found them Danny!" Ellie proudly pronounces, wiggling in place in her excitement again before scrunching her face. "Well. I found Caroline. For you!"

"For me?" Danny confusedly tilts his head, even pointing a finger at himself. "Why would you—"

"Jazzy said you're lonely." Ellie whispers loudly into his ear, Tim trying to stifle his laughter as he bites his lips. "And Dante said that you need to find a friend to have sleepovers with."

Danny's face goes alarmingly red again, slapping a hand to cover his eyes as he groans in embarrassment.

"I'm going to kill them—nosey older—" Danny grumbles, before huffing and smiling apologetically at Tim. "I'm really sorry about this Miss Caroline—"

"He's Tim right now!" Ellie interrupts, yanking at Danny's ear and causing him to yelp. "Caroline went to bed. I like Caroline more, 'cause she's so pretty, see?"

Ellie points at all of Tim, which causes him to smile shyly. He notices that Danny follows where Ellie points, gulping when he meets Tim's eyes again. "Y-yeah, I see that squirt but—"

"But Tim's been really nice, he treats me like a proper person! Most people just think I'm a dumb kid."

"You're not dumb." Tim and Danny say in unison, which makes both of them squeak embarrassingly. So much for Bat-training.

"See! So I thought Tim could be for you, and I could play with Caroline sometimes, and Dante could play with Alvin—"

"Alvin?" Danny asks quietly, to which Tim flashes three fingers, before pointing to his head. Danny nods understandingly before focusing back on Ellie. The quick understanding and no reaction makes all sorts of butterflies bloom in Tim's gut. Like a little mosh pit of bugs. Maybe he needs coffee.

"—and so I said that Jazz deserves better than that, right Danny?" Ellie smooshes Danny's cheeks, making him look all sorts of ridiculous and cute. "Maybe we can even share Caroline!"

"-at's right squirt. S-he does." Danny says through his squished face. He scrunches his nose up—which makes their relation seem so very clear, Ellie's the spitting image of him—before bopping his forehead onto hers and making her giggle as she lets go of his face.

"So, uh. this is all very nice of you, Ellie. I, uhm." Danny glances at Tim, wincing a little, "I love that you did something so nice for me, but you can't gift people, so we're gonna let uh, Tim get on their way okay?"

Ellie pouts, wriggling out of Danny's grip to hide behind Tim and grab at his skirt. "But, but you like pretty ladies! And pretty boys!"

"Where did you even get this information?" Danny's voice cracks, frantically looking back and forth between Tim and Ellie as if he's not sure whether to be embarrassed or indignant.

"Sam said you like pretty ladies that look like they can beat you up." Ellie ticks a finger up, looking up as she recalls this info, "and Tucker said you like guys who look like they need to be taked care of."

Danny groans, head in his hands and hunching his shoulders up to scrunch up as small as he can even as Ellie steamrolls over the noise, "And Jazzy and Dante said that you need somebody that can be weird with you."

Danny jolts up, straightening as if he's found some kind of salvation. "Hey, that's right, and I'm sure Tim is a perfectly awesome guy, uh, girl?" Danny looks at Tim in distress, making Tim chuckle.

"Right now I'm a guy." Tim tries to keep his voice soft and low, smiling a little shyly. Distantly, he wonders if he's smudged Caroline's lipstick.

"Right!" Danny coughs, red again, "Right, so he's a perfectly normal guy and totally not weird, Okay, Ellie? C'mon, let's not take up more of Tim's night, okay?"

"I like weird." Tim nonchalantly says, innocent as he lays a hand on Ellie's back. "I mean, I've got at least three people sharing space in my noggin. Sort of." She beams up at him and snuggles closer to his leg, a warm line of comfort and affection. "We can be weird together, I think."

Danny flaps his mouth open and closed, at a loss for words. Tim's not about to explain this whole method acting turned stress relief gender euphoria turned alternate identity thing, so he plows on.

"I'm sometimes a lady—" Ellie interrupts him with an adamant pretty! "—a pretty lady that can definitely put you in your place." Tim does a slow up and down, Caroline peeking through in body memory even if she's not fully forefront.

It makes Danny do that cute little squeak again—-That's three times now, and Tim wants to know if he can manage a fourth. It also makes Danny remember how shirtless he is, making the other man twitch as if he might cover his chest but doesn't want to bring more attention to this fact so he restrains himself.

Tim licks his lips, staring at his pecs and—there's that fourth squeak and arms crossing over that delicious chest.

"And y'know," Tim goes a little shy now, scratching at the back of his neck, "I sometimes forget to sleep and eat." He shrugs with a little moue of distaste as the words he's about to say, "My family says I'm kind of a workaholic and need taking care of."

"Oh!" Ellie bounces up and down, tugging at Tim's skirt again, flashing a little hip that makes Danny eep and slap his hands over his eyes. Big guy like him should not be this freaking cute, seriously. "Oh! Jazzy says Danny's a work-a-ho-lic too!"

"Yeah?" Tim says to Ellie, even as he keeps eye contact with Danny as he's peeking through his fingers, "Guess that means I gotta at least give it a shot, right?"

Tim's not sure where this confidence is coming from: remnants of Caroline, being so free with his other…roommates, Ellie, or Danny's reactions, but it's bolstering him up.

It makes him bold, and kinda reckless. Mr. Sarcastic would approve.

"Yeah!" Ellie agrees, tugging Tim's hand into hers. She pulls him towards Danny, who obliging gives her his hand when she asks for it wordlessly with her own. "You gotta at least try. Jazzy said you give up too much for me!" Ellie makes the saddest, most pathetic looking pout Tim's ever seen. "I don't wanna be the reason you're sad and alone Danny!"

Danny bites his lip, looking at Tim for a long moment. Tim tries to smile reassuredly, to convey that he's totally on board for at least one date. (For maybe many many dates?) His shoulders slump, but his blush is still rampant. It's crawling down his neck, up his cheeks and bleeding into his ears.

He's the cutest thing Tim's ever seen at 4am in the morning.

"O-okay, uhm." Danny fumbles with his phone, "I-I could give you my number?"

"Sounds great." Tim shyly smiles as they exchange numbers, Ellie keeping both their hands hostage as if they might run away the second she lets go. Good thing Tim's ambidextrous. "I'll call you, maybe set something up this weekend?"

"It's a date." Danny smiles, Ellie squealing in excitement and cheering as she finally lets go to jump around.

Just as they get ready to part ways, Ellie tugs at Tim's skirt again, cupping her hands in a bid for Tim to crouch down and lend an ear. He does so obligingly.

"Can Caroline wake up for a second so I can say goodbye?" She whispers loudly. Tim smirks a little, rummaging up the vestiges of Caroline and sort of—blinks.

"Goodnight darling." Caroline does a sly little smile, kissing Ellie on the cheek and winking up at Danny. "And you were right! Your brother is the best."

Ellie beams, giving her a kiss on the cheek back. "Good night, Caroline!"

[starlit-writer]

in sickness and in health, ch. 1 - alpha!simon riley x omega!reader

ah, look at that. have some omegaverse angst inspired by this post here <3 if you want to understand more about my omegaverse au, you can look at my masterpost here, and it'll help explain all of the intricacies that may or may not be explained well enough in these short-form fics!

well, this turned out to be miles longer than i expected it to. there's not really a solid ending, so let me know if you want more! have so much fun getting your heart ripped out <3

word count: 4,764 masterlist ao3 link

Three years ago, you and Simon got married. It wasn’t anything flashy or big - fuck, how could it have been when you didn’t even love each other? But, military law forbade an unmated omega from joining the ranks, and Simon was seen as a wild-card alpha, too headstrong and violent, too hard to control. So, the brass laid out an ultimatum: mate, get married, or be discharged. Both you and Simon had worked too hard for too long to get where you were, so discharge was entirely off the table. There was no courting, no dates, and the wedding, if you could call it that, was little more than signing papers - three signatures on a thick piece of A4 government paper, one from you, one from Simon, and one from your witness, Captain John Price. You didn’t even exchange rings or vows. It took less than five minutes. 

After all was said and done, you and Simon went back to your lives. Sure, you were respectful to one another, and you spent one or two heats and ruts together, but you both maintained a distance away from each other. Neither of you were thrilled with the idea of being tied down, of being mated. The mating bond between you felt more like the neck of a too-tight sweater than it did a comfort, feeling each other’s emotions more of a chore than something you looked forward to. Sure, you worked well together, fluid and deadly like a well oiled M2 on the field. Always had. But there was a stark difference between working well together, and being mated.

So that’s how you ended up here. You had lost twenty pounds. Your skin was sallow and pale, your eyes sunken in. When you looked in the mirror, you could count your ribs, the knobs of your spine, even when they were hidden under the bruises that bloomed across your sickly skin.

You had thrown yourself into work, and when there was no work, you were challenging any living thing to go for a round with you on the sparring mat. But, you were weak; the bond sickness sapped all of your energy and strength faster than you could ever hope to replenish it. Your scent, which was once a warm and spicy caramelized vanilla, now smelled like sugar burnt to the bottom of a pot - acrid and rotted. You were dying, and you knew it. But your pride was far too great to ever go crawling back to Simon, the very man who caused the sickness to infiltrate every cell of your being. It had been months of this torture. Simon, your alpha, had all but abandoned you. You had been without his touch, his scent, anything and everything that the very base instincts of your omega craved from its mate for far too long. It didn't matter to your omega that this marriage, this mating bond was nothing more than a way to keep both you and Simon in the service. Instincts couldn't be fought with fact, and now you were reaping the consequences of the neglect of the bond. You had thought bond sickness was a myth, a fear-mongering tactic to keep alphas in line. However, you were now aware that there was far more truth than you could have ever imagined to that story that is told. 

You had seen the concerned looks of your team as they watched you haunt the halls of the base like a spectre. Soap had started to bring you chocolates and drinks, anything in hopes to get you to eat. Gaz took a different approach, always being the one to take you up on your sparring requests, the beta knowing that at the very least he could be gentle with you while still giving you an outlet. The Captain had made sure to keep you off any truly strenuous missions and tasks, mainly relegating you to the medbay or to training recruits. If you were any stronger, you would be pissed, but right now you took it as a blessing. At least he hadn’t kicked you off the team for your weakness. But Simon? Simon was nowhere to be found. He continuously was the first volunteer for the most dangerous missions, keeping him away from base for weeks to months at a time. When he came back bloody and bruised, he would avoid the medbay like the plague, only coming in to get fixed up by another combat medic when he knew Soap or Gaz had forcefully pulled you away. If you two happened to be walking in the same hallway, Simon would duck out of your sight without even so much as a word. You had long since given up on running after him. 

So color yourself surprised when you were standing in front of the mirror in your bathroom and the screen of your phone lit up, a text from Simon blaring on the too-bright screen. You had every intention of ignoring it, but your pride was no match for the dying ache of your omega. 

Come to my quarters.

The text was simple. Demanding, even. And all it did was make you angry. 

You quickly tugged on a pair of sweats and forced a tank top over your bruised and feverish skin. You thought briefly for a moment about tugging a sweatshirt on over your mottled skin, but, fuck it, let him see all that he has done to you. Maybe he would give you the one blessing you had hoped for over the last few months of neglect, and finally sever the bond between you. 

You trudged through the hallways of the base, every soldier you passed giving you a wide berth. You were certain you looked like death froze over, and the rage-filled expression set over your brows and your lips certainly did not help. When you reached his door, you didn’t even bother to knock. You just shoved your copy of the key in the door and slammed the door open. 

Simon barely even looked up from where he was lounging on the bed. His shirt was off, a rare sight, even for you, but even more shocking was the fact that he wasn’t wearing his mask.  He didn’t look much better than you - his once-bronzed skin paled, his own scars raised and reddened, and he had a poorly bandaged bullet wound wrapped, the white medical wrapping blossoming with a red mark. Pulled stitches, definitely. 

“Close the door,” came the rough demand as his arms lazily opened in an invitation to lay with him. “And c’mere.”

You, in all of your rage, just stood stockstill in the still-open doorway. Even as your omega side cried to jump into his arms and let his scent and his touch wash away all the pain, you refused with a defiant jut of your chin. You didn’t know why he had called you here, and the only thing your mind could conjure up is that Price, or Laswell, or fuck, even Soap, had sat him down and forced him to do this. And you wanted nothing to do with this or with him if he actually was not trying to change.

“I don’t want your pity. And I sure as hell don’t want your affection just because Price told you that you had to fix me,” you replied, your voice shaking with weakness and pain, even as you tried your damndest to keep it steady, strong. 

Simon growled, the sound of an alpha not used to not getting his way, as he rolled onto his side to look at you more squarely. His arms were still open, but you could see the way his muscles clenched, his own anger rising. “It ain’t about pity. It’s about basic biology,” he bit out, the words short and angry. 

That made you laugh, the sound short and sardonic before it morphs into a cough that shakes your entire, frail being. You brought a shaking hand up to wipe your lips before you fixed him with a glare hard enough to freeze an ocean. “Basic biology?" you mocked. “Yeah, for sure. But it’s also basic biology to not let bond sickness even be a worry for your omega, but looks like you fucked that one right up, didn’t you!?”

Your words made something in Simon snap. Your rage, the vitriol, clenched his hands into fists as he quickly swung his powerful legs over the edge of the bed, crossing the space between you in the space between one of your breaths and the next. He was in your face now, just enough space between you to not be pressing completely against you. You averted your gaze, knowing that if you didn’t, you might continue yelling at him, or worse. 

“Look at me,” he ordered, using the same tone he does on the battlefield. His hands are still clenched into fists, but they are shaking. Why?

That tone made your eyes harden, the instincts of a hard-bred soldier kicking in. Even through the fraying of your bond, your sickness, you knew that voice. You listened when given an order. You allowed your head to loll back to look up at him, but your expression was still set in that same hard glare. You weren’t on a battlefield. You were on base, far away from the acrid explosions and hot gunpowder. How dare he pretend otherwise? “Why?” you bit back in response. “This isn’t some tactical decision, Simon. Don’t treat me like one of your fuckin’ rookies.” 

He took a sharp breath through his teeth, obviously trying to control himself. He knew you were weak, the bond sickness taking so much more from you than it ever did him. But your defiance, your spirit despite the bond sickness was making his alpha go crazy. Even with you glaring up at him, he stared down at you with fierce eyes as his hands gripped your hips, shoving you out of the doorway and pressing you against the wall right beside it. Taking one hand off of your hip, he shut the door with a resounding click before his grip, and his attention came back entirely to you. “I ain’t treatin’ you like a goddamned rookie,” he growled out, his cold brown gaze entirely focused on your own broken one as one hand slams into the wall by your head. Even through your rage, he can see it. Feel it. He had broken you. And that knowledge caused his alpha to writhe in pain. “I’m treatin’ ya like my fuckin’ omega.” 

As he caged you in, growled those words at you, your own expression hardened. Your lips curled up to reveal your smaller omega fangs, a low growl of your own reverberating from your chest as your hands clenched into fists. It’s hard to ignore the sheer size difference between the two of you as he towers over you, his head dipped low to keep your attention. However, that did nothing to stop your rage, in fact, it increased it tenfold. 

“Oh, right. I forgot. Being your omega means less than being one of your rookies, silly me.”

You knew the second the words left your mouth that you just opened a Pandora’s box. You saw it in the way his eyes instantaneously darkened, in the way his hand left the wall before you could even blink, his fingers crushing your jaw between them in a bruising grip, forcing your head back against the wall as he brought his face ever closer to yours. However, as his face got closer, you could see the glint of something else in his eyes. Triumph. His alpha was revelling in watching you snap and get fiery again. It was a victory, in his mind, to see you able to be so angry after the bond sickness had taken so much from you. “Watch it, sweetheart,” he muttered, his voice low and gruff. “I know that attitude of yours will always be there, but careful.”

His words sent another wave of anger through you, and as he forced your head back, you jerked your neck, snapping your teeth at him, your small omega fangs glinting in the low light of his quarters. It was a clear message. Fuck the bond sickness, he had no right to touch you right now. You did not forgive him, and he has to work to even begin to earn that, and if he won’t? You would dissolve the bond without him, whether or not it risked your life. 

“Don’t sweetheart me,” you growled out, glaring up at him even as the bruising grip of his fingers squished your cheeks together, slurring your words. “Not after everything.”

His alpha instincts flared again, the desire to force you into accepting his help clear as his eyes flashed in irritation at your anger. He pressed you further into the wall, his body now flush against yours as he snarled right back. “Then do something about it,” he challenged. “Get mad. Fight me. Let it all out. But, you’re not leaving this room until you let me fix this.”

As much as you hated it, hearing Simon’s permission gave you the ability to let it all out. No matter how much you wanted to pretend that you were unaffected by him, the knowledge that he wanted you to fight, wanted to fix this broken bond between you, allowed you to finally and truly get all of the anger out, and maybe, just maybe, give the bond a chance to heal. 

And so you did. Your body jerked against his, your sallow cheeks flushing red as you bared your omega fangs and growled at him again. Your eyes held the faintest spark of life, a far cry from what they used to have, but there’s something there now. 

When Simon saw that spark, the faintest hint of his omega coming back, he chuckled gruffly, his eyes glinting with a possessive heat. 

“Yes, spitfire. I want you t’ fight me. Hit me, scream, yell at me, tell me how shit of an alpha I’ve been. I don’t care. Just don’t. Hold. Back.” 

As soon as the words left his mouth, the dam inside of you broke. Months worth of anger, agony, grief, pain, and aching sadness flooded your veins like a hot, volatile drug. It felt like a living, breathing thing as the emotions curled around your lungs, your muscles, your heart. Tears pushed at your lash line, the aching pain making itself known through the rage. 

You held his cold brown gaze for a moment, your eyes searching his. When all you saw in return was steely determination, you did the only thing you could think of. Before he could even move out of the way, you shut your eyes and cranked your head back as far as it would go, and drove your forehead straight into his nose. It wasn’t nearly hard enough to break it, but definitely hard enough to hurt and make the blood start flowing. 

He staggered back from you, his hands coming up to cup his nose, but the alpha was far from angry. In fact, he was grinning, the blood pouring from his nose coating his lips and teeth. A low growl of approval rumbled from his chest as he stared at you, approval glinting in his eyes. “Good girl,” he muttered lowly, the praise slipping through so naturally. 

As his praise washed over you, you felt your stomach flip. It shouldn’t feel that good. Not after the months and months of neglect so bad that you were literally dying. But, you couldn’t help the small ember of warmth that bloomed through your chest as that muttered praise of good girl flowed through your veins like a warm blanket settling over you. 

But, you were still angry. And hurt. And countless other emotions that you couldn’t even begin to name, all just culminating into a neverending ache. And as you saw the blood marring the plush flesh of his lower lip, something inside of you snapped. 

He had made his worst mistake. He had let go of you, and now you could truly fight. 

You crouched down, using your smaller stature and power legs to kick your leg out, and you swept it across the ground, knocking the much-bigger alpha off of his feet. You watched as his massive frame hit the ground, shaking the walls, a bloom of satisfaction erupting in your chest. Adrenaline was pumping through your veins now, the only thing allowing you to move, and before he had the chance to become reoriented, you were on top of him, straddling his hips as you punched at his chest. Your tears of anguish were falling freely now, sobs breaking free with your yells. 

“You have broken me! Broken! I used to be so strong, so happy, and you destroyed that! Ripped it away from me! All because you were too fucking caught up in your own shit, your own fucking fear, that you couldn’t even be half of the alpha you needed to be!”

Simon grunted in pain as his back collided with the cold, hard tile of his quarters, his hands automatically coming up to grab at your hips. Not to shove you off, no, but to keep you on top of him. He knew he deserved this. Every punch, every pointed word, every tear. It was his penance for all of the pain and agony he had put you through, even if it was ripping his heart to absolute shreds. 

“I know, I know,” he growled softly, his voice thick with regret. “I know I did.”

You shook your head, tears and snot flying from the force. You were so angry, so hurt, but the adrenaline was quickly running its course, leaving behind only bone-deep exhaustion and pain. Your punches slowly weakened, until you were barely able to lift your hands. Instead, they came to rest on his bare chest, your omega claws digging sharply into the thick muscle that covered his chest, one of your hands digging directly over his heart, needing him to feel a fraction of the agony that coursed through your own. 

“Don’t you agree with me! Don’t you dare! Gods, you do this to me for months, and you… you have nothing to say for yourself!? I tried! Tried to be a good spouse, a good omega! I tried to give you your space, to be unobtrusive, even though that killed my omega! And all I fuckin’ got in return is this fucking bond sickness that is killing me! Tearing me apart from the inside out!” 

His body shuddered as your claws dug into his chest, his skin breaking under the tiny points. It hurt in every way that it could, but the tiny pinpricks of blood that welled around your claws were nothing compared to how he had hurt you. He knew that he deserved this, every inch of your wrath, of your anger, and the pain it brought for him. It was the least he could do - to bear this for you. But, Gods, it didn’t stop your words from tearing into his heart in a way your claws couldn’t even begin to touch. 

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” he repeated, his words thick with the guilt that was threatening to choke him. “And I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry.”

His apology broke what little strength you had left. The bond between you was fraying, seconds away from snapping completely, and you had never felt more lost. A sob broke free from your lips, the force of the sound causing your body to lurch forward. But, Simon was there. For once, he was there. His chest caught your head, your tears wetting his skin almost instantaneously as your claws scratched down his torso, leaving thin, raised red lines down his scarred skin. 

He hissed softly in response to the pain, but he made no attempt to move, to shy away from it. You had completely given up on your ego, your omega so desperate for your alpha, no matter what he had done. But, you were still so hurt, your omega so wounded that you had no idea how you were going to come back from this. 

“Just… just tell me why. Why did you do this? Why did you treat me like this?” you sobbed out into his chest, your sour, distressed omega pheromones wafting around him like a shroud of despair. 

His alpha writhed in pain at your scent. It was wrong, so, so wrong, but he had done this. His neglect, his apathy, had taken his once strong, ferocious omega and reduced her down to this. He had never seen you like this. And he never wanted to again. He could feel the bond between you slipping between his fingers like shards of glass digging into his very being, and fear rose to take its place. He wrapped his arms around you, cradling your tiny, trembling form against him, his nose burying into your hair as he pressed a featherlight, shaking kiss into it. He swallowed harshly against the lump in his throat, his heart clenching in fear. In pain. In anger at himself. “I was a coward, love.” 

You sobbed harder against his chest at his admission, shaking your head jerkily. Your body felt like it was freezing and burning up at the same time, as the frayed edges of the bond dug into you like poisonous thorns. You could feel your mind shattering, your heart stuttering as the bond sickness continued to take hold. You were dying, and you knew it. But at this point, you would almost take death over the amount of pain you were in. “That’s not a good excuse,” came your shaking reply, the words thick with tears and agony, but they were strong with conviction. “Tell me why, Simon. Tell me why, or break the godsdamned bond.” 

The words that left your lips felt like they were suffocating the alpha. Break the bond. His arms tightened around you until you were completely pressed against him, and he could feel every shudder, every quiver in your weakening body. A low growl rumbles from his chest, the sound full of pain but also a desperate desire to comfort. He had to try - to even attempt to explain, even if he wasn’t sure it would do anything. But the thought of losing you without even trying made his heart shatter, his alpha howl in protest. 

“Because I was afraid,” he murmured, his voice thick with regret and honesty as his knuckles ran across the knobs of your spine. That caused him more pain than you would ever know, feeling how you had atrophied from his neglect. How his dismissal, his abandonment had caused his once strong, beautiful omega, to waste away before his very eyes. “Afraid of getting caught up in you, in this. Of loving you, of giving you part of my heart. I didn’t know how to keep you safe. I didn’t think I was worthy of having something like that, like you. I still don’t.” 

“Then break the bond,” you whimpered out, the pain of the bond sickness, of your own emotions, and what little of Simon’s you could still feel through the barest threads of the bond ricocheting through your body, reduced you to little more than a husk lying on top of Simon. Your heart was shattering along with the bond, the broken edges of each splintering in a way that made it hard for you to breathe. Your breath pushed and pulled achingly slowly through your chapped lips like broken glass, just another thing ripping your very being apart. 

“If you can’t do this… I’ll… I’ll figure it out. The brass’ll let me stay, at least for a little bit. But, I can’t… I can’t keep doin’ this. ‘M not asking for love. ‘M not asking to be a real marriage, but I can’t be apart of a bond where ‘m not… where ‘m not bein’ taken care of. I can’t.” 

Your words were slurring, little more than a broken and pain-filled whimper against his broad chest, and Simon could practically hear the way his heart shatters beneath you. He did this. He did this. And yet, the selfish part of him couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, no matter how much pain he had put you through. The alpha snarled as he wrapped his arms around your ever-weakening frame impossibly tighter, as if he was afraid that if he didn’t hold you tight enough, you’d slip away from him forever. 

“No, baby, no,” he replied softly, but the words were filled with a growl of conviction, of promise. “I was stupid. I was so stupid, and I hurt you. Let me… let me fix this, okay? Please, baby. Lemme fix you. Just for right now.” 

Simon was begging. You didn’t know if you had ever heard him beg before, but here he was, begging you to allow him the chance to fix you. Your exhausted, wounded omega perked up a bit at his conviction, but you couldn’t help but feel like this was far too little, far too late. “I… I don’t know, Simon. How can you… how can you fix this?” 

The pained gasps between your words drove a stake of fear through Simon’s heart, his alpha whimpering painfully. He swallowed harshly against the ever-growing lump in his throat, as he knew that he had to be the pillar of strength. If he broke right now, there was no hope for you. His lips brushed against the top of your head as he inhaled your sour, rotted scent in despair, his hands running up and down your back in a vain attempt to soothe you. 

“Let me… let me have a chance,” the alpha, your alpha, pleaded. “Please baby, let me fix this. I’ll do better, I promise. Gods, I’ll do anything. Just… just let me get you better,  baby, please. And then, if you still want to break the bond, we can, okay? Just… I can’t lose you. I can’t let you die. Not like this. Never like this.”

You felt, more than heard, his words wash over you. You could feel your body failing, the bond sickness taking what little was left of you. Even with Simon’s touch, with his promises, you had a brief moment of clarity where you just knew that this still might be it, that the bond had been strained too far, the cavernous distance between the two of you still too great, that this bond sickness might still kill you, despite his promises to fix you. 

You were so tired. So, so tired. The pain is too much, your eyelids too heavy, and it felt like what was left of your shattered heart wasn’t pumping nearly enough oxygen through your veins. You were teetering on the edge, and all you wanted to do was sleep. 

“Just… just let me sleep. In here. With you. Please?” you mumbled, the words soft and slurred. Any fight, any pride you had just a few minutes ago was long gone, and if you were going to die, your omega wanted it to be right here, in your alpha’s arms, taken peacefully in your sleep. “I need… just, please, Si.” 

Simon’s resolve shattered at the nickname that fell past your lips. He instantly sat up, gathering your frail, fragile body in his arms as he nodded, his own tears finally breaking free. 

His fault. All his fault. Always his fault. 

He quickly stood up, your body light (too light, too light) in his arms as he carried you to his bed. He was terrified. He could feel how slow your heartbeat was, how weak your body was, how slurred your words were. He shushed you softly, gently, but the sound warbled against his own tears. 

“Shhh, shhh, baby. I got you. I got you. Just�� just sleep, okay? I’ll be right here. Right here. Never leavin’ your side again. I promise. I’ll be right here when you wake up. Just sleep.” 

He gingerly laid you on the bed, surrounding you with blankets and pillows, anything he could find that was drenched in his alpha scent, before his body came to blanket you. He couldn’t lose you. And he will keep his promise, even as his own silent tears fell down around your now-unconscious face. What’s that old saying? Oh, right. You never know what you have until it’s gone.

[catdia]

Jayce Talis with a Chubby S/o

(Modern AU / College AU)

The first time you meet was late at night. You were coming out of your physics class as he was finishing up his biomedical engineering course.

You were trying to get home when a pair of male students tried to conner you and wouldn’t let you pass. Jayce was walking out a little later than he normally did and heard all the commotion.

“Come on! It’s not like anyone is dying for your number. Just give it to me.”

“No thanks—” You pivoted to the side, and yet again blocked by other of the guys.

“What do you mean no?! It’s not like big girls like you have any options! I’m doing you a favor. I doubt that any guys want to—”

“I said NO!” They were really starting to get on your nerves. Jayce decided to step in a heartbeat.

“What do you mean no?!” He raised his hand at you, making you flinch. Jayce ran towards you, furious at the gross display of disrespect you were facing. He steeped in between the small space the guy had created in front of you.

“She said no. Now let her go on her way.” Jayce pushed the guy who raised his hand to you. Making him stumble back.

“Look at this, man—” One of the guys playfully slapped the guy who was in your face on his shoulder. “We got a hero in your hands! Pathetic.” You discretely took out your pepper spray from your pocket, turning the handle and placing your thumb on the button.

“Just leave the girl alone and we will not have anymore problems.” You stepped next to Jayce, weapon at your side. You saw one of the fuckers get close in frustration.

“And what are you going to do if—” Before the guy could finish his sentence you doused his face with pepper spray. “H-Holy fuck! You bitch!” The guy fell on his knees in pain, rubbing his eyes.

“What the fuck?! I’m going to—”

Before his friend could react you did the same to him and landed a swift kick to his balls. Making his face hit the pavement below his feet as his eyes burned. Jayce was utterly stunned. A little thing like you having such violent behaviors. And he found that hot.

He felt a small hand in his palm, then a tug strong enough to make his feet shuffle. It was you trying to get him to run in what ever direction you wanted him too.

“Hurry before they get up!” You yelled at him, his feet moving as yours did. You stopped at one of the dorm buildings. Hands on your knees as you catch your breath. Jayce doing the same.

“That was fun.” He joked, earning a giggle for you. But he still could feel the sadness, the bleeding wound to your heart. He got a good look at you now. Hair messy from the run, cheeks busted pink.

“Yeah, I should get called a bitch more often if it means kicking balls in!” God, he had never seen a smile so bright, so sweet. He immediately saw your expression fall into one of sorrow. He placed a hand on your shoulder, giving it a gentle reassuring squeeze.

“Hey, I’m sorry for what those assholes did! I’ll have them reported by tomorrow. We can’t have those type of people walking about.” You hummed a response. Those type of people have always been in your life, they could never be purged.

“You know them?” You were so soft, looking at him with your shimmering eyes. Why hasn’t he seen you before until now? Why hasn’t he noticed something so angelic like you in those damn science building hallways?

“Unfortunately, they happen to have a class with me.”There was a short silence. He looked at your sad expression. “What they said isn’t true. I-I, umm, think you’re quite pretty—” You looked surprised. You have never seen a pair of amber eyes so genuine before. Could this be what wanting someone a felt like? Did it look like the most handsome man in school standing in front of you looking at your lips?

“Thank you, Jayce.” You stood on your tippy toes and gave him a kiss, intended for his cheek but your lips fell on the outline of his jaw. “Bye bye.” The electric door opened with the touch of your keycard and you entered.

“Wait! Who do you know my name?” You peaked out the half closed door, smile in your lips.

“Your face is all over the place.” You pointed to your temple. “And I have a mug with you on it.” You closed the door. Leaving Jayce awestruck as his cheeks burned with passion.

Since you guys have the same schedule at night he is the one that walks you home, and you became a couple shortly after. He made sure to have a word with the dean and the two guys who harassed you were kicked out.

When he was first trying to court you he always brought you coffee to your am classes. The first time he did it was the most rememberable one because everyone was so shocked to see him walking up to you and giving you your breakfast! You sitting next to your lab partner and friend Sevika as she told you the gossip she heard in rugby practice. And you ended up confessing to her want happened the other night.

“You should have called me to pick you up!”

“Sev, I’m fine! They got kicked out this morning and are banned even from the arenas.”

“I don’t give a fuck about that. I can’t believe you had to experience that alone. You could have been seriously hurt.”

“I was okay. And I wasn’t alone actually. This guy—” Before you could finish your sentence a shadow crossed over you. And it was none other than the golden boy himself! You stood up from your desk a little too excitedly. Making Sevika scuff at you. You leaned against the corner of the table and propped your hip in your hand.

“Hey, Jayce! Are you going to be TAing or something?” You really regret not doing your hair this morning!

“Na, Heimer just was fussy about some of the numbers we crunched yesterday and want me to come early to do a final run over.” You noticed that he had food in his hands, untouched and unopened. He saw your gaze look at his hands.

“Ahh, this is for you!” He handed you an iced coffee and what looked like a pastry in a brown bag. You knew from the logo that it was from that expensive coffee shop that opened a few months ago on campus. And the heart attack that it gave you when the cashier told you in was 10 bucks for a small matcha.

“Is the coffee poisoned?” You joked, eyeing the color of the coffee. You knew it was going to be delicious.

“No, no, no! Heavens no!” He quickly shook his hands out of anxiety and looked baffled you suggested such things. He had a blush on his cheeks, a boyish look for such a large man.

“I thought it would be nice to bring you something. Y-You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to. I totally understand if you don’t want to take something for a complete stranger—”

“That’s very sweet, Jayce. Thank you.” 

“No problem.”

“Can I give you a kiss on the cheek?”

“Really?!” You nodded your head at his excitement. “Sure!” He leaned down to your level so you didn’t have to grab a chair just to reach his neck. You placed a hand on his cheek, feeling the stubble of his skin. Your lips and contact with the fresh smelling skin. He placed a hand on yours as you slowly back away from him.

“I’ll be in the library this afternoon in room 314, at about 3. Would you like to join me?” He gently squeezed your hand.

“Yeah! I’m free and I have that damned electrical current paper I have to finish. I’ll be there around 4.”

“Good!” He seemed like he really didn’t want to let you go. But he slowly walked away from you.

“Bye bye.” Jayce waited as he exited the door.

“Bye, Mr. Talis.” You blew him a kiss, he rose his hand and catch the kiss placing it next to his heart. Watching him stumble out the door as he bumped into other guy trying to walk in.

“You really have him hooked, huh?” Sevika chuckled as she popped open the brown bag to see the contents inside. “I bet 40 that he is going to beat his meat with that hand later.”

“I seriously don’t know what he sees in me. Did you know he broke up with Mel Medarda?” You leaned against the lab desk and crossed your arms. Still looking at the door Jayce entered and left moments ago. “She’s gorgeous! Makes me feel like a peasant each time I she her in her brand new BMW. And those cuffs in her locs have to be 18k gold! And did you see her latest Insta post?! She’s got body for days!”

“Looks like you have a crush on her.”

“Don’t we all?”

“I knew that you would finally start gunning for the other team. My influence is infectious.” You chuckled at her, still deep in thought as some students took their seats as class time started to approach.

“You really have to start getting out of your head, princess. Do you think he would be doing this lovey-dovey shit if he didn’t want a piece of that ass?”

“Mmm, yeah maybe you’re right—”

“And if he doesn’t work out for you I have plenty of butches that have been asking me about you. The good thing is that you can pick out the dick size.”

“Ewww! That’s so crude, Sevika!”

You heard a crunch and turned your head to Sevika. “Are you serious eating my stuff?”

“Checking it for roofies.” She bit the flaky pastry again and took a sip of your latte. Moaning at the taste as she gave it a final swirl. Passing it to you.“You have my green light.” You rolled your eyes at her.

“Oh, shit! He left his number on the pastry bag!”

He is the captain of the baseball team and also the golden boy of the engineering department. His face is plastered all over the school and even in the promotional stuff of the college.

Hispanic / Latino! A Colombian-Brazilian mix.

His sponsor is the Kiramman family, he won a scholarship in middle school for a Juniors Inventors Competition he placed first. They have paid for his education ever since because they loved him so much. And helps Cait with all her homework and tutoring. They also are members of the board of education (cough nepotism cough).

Your first date was at a basketball game. His friend Vi was playing in the national women’s tournament that was taking place at your college’s arena. Imagine you are relaxing and enjoying the game as the Jumbotron is going around focusing on couples for the kiss cam. And it lands on you two!

“I guess we have to give the people what they want.”

“How unfortunate for us.” You leaned into Jayce, grazing your lips against his.

You guys share a passionate kiss as the crowd went wild. Later you saw your picture in the schools newspaper talking about the game and the “New Golden Boy’s Gal”.

His favorite pet names for you are babe, baby, dove, and princess! When he gets spicy uses “muñeca” (doll) and “mi tesoro” (my treasure).

Doesn’t seem like a party person at all! He went to a few in his first year but didn’t like the craziness of them. He does however go to fundraising galas and any event that the school of engineering / baseball does.

And you are his plus one always!

Likes to be in suits and all dolled up, Jayce likes to look good. He knows his handsome, but he doesn’t compete next to you. Having your curves hugged so nicely by the gown you’re wearing, hair and makeup done.

“Are you ready, Jayce? If we are not there by 7 Professor Heimerdinger will have my ass.” You entered his room, heels clicking. He pulled his tie around his neck and he saw you in the reflection of his small mirror.

“You look stunning!” He shifted his attention to you. Watching you struggle to put your necklace on he quickly took the chain from your fingers.

“I don’t feel stunning—” He clipped the necklace. Kissing the nape of your neck.

“Jayce, we will be late!” He unzipped the back of your dress, earning a yelp from you. His cold hands slipping under the fabric and grasping the meat of your hips and stomach.

“They can wait! You are more important than so old farts with money to spare.” Your dress pooled on your feet.

Wouldn’t it be awkward having Mel as his ex like a mentioned previously?! And she being the face of the school of engineering like Jayce?! They only dated because it was pushed on them by the department because having a “power couple” as the face of the college meant big money.

I believe that their relationship never was more than occasional sex and a little toxic. She 100% dated Jayce because Ambessa told her too. Mel only cared about him when it came to the aesthetics of it all. Made him follow a script all the time in public. He couldn’t smile too much, couldn’t giggle because it was uncouth, changed his diet because according to her he was still “flabby” even with the constant work he put in… Mel manipulated the hell out of him, and she was damn good at it. She made him feel trapped and loved at the same time. It wasn’t a very healthy relationship.

Viktor never really liked Mel so when she broke with him he was the happiest man alive! He was like “yeah I hated that bitch” and Jayce was just crying his eyes out because he was dumped before his game.

I think Mel dumped him because he was tired of not being himself anymore. He didn’t find joy in the little things and he stared to tell her “no” when it came to her shifting his whole personality.

She had a wake up call a few more years into college and even broke of her relationship with her mother. Mel eventually apologized to Jayce for all the pain she caused him.

When Jayce introduced you to Viktor you both hit it off right away! He said something in the line of: “I like this one, keep her around.”

I headcanon Jayce as bisexual, but isn’t the type to parade it around or even mention it to people. Doesn’t own any pride stuff. Very closeted, but not at all (if you get way I mean). Jayce is just comfortable with himself and doesn’t need to prove anything to others when it comes to his sexuality. He only tells people when it naturally comes in a conversation.

The only person he flat out said “yeah I’m bi” was when Cait came out to him. He wanted her not to feel alone and that she had a friend she could relay on.

The way you found out he was bi was so mundane. You were talking about a popular actor that was in a lot of action movies back when you were kids.

“Since I was a teenager all the other guys said that he was cool, but I only really liked him because he was hot.”

“Wait! You like boys and girls?”

“Y-Yeah—” He sheepishly placed a hand on the back of his neck, blush on his cheeks. And that quickly turned into a form of panic. What if you were disappointed, or even disgusted by that? Will you break up with him over it? “If you don’t feel comfortable with that I totally understand—”

“I like girls too! And boys!” You both held hands and skipped in a circle out of bi joy.

He always kisses you hello and goodbye! He likes PDA but isn’t the type to be literally fucking you in public. He holds your hand and gives you gentle kisses. Also whenever you go out he makes sure to walk on the side of traffic. And makes you stand close to his chest when you’re in line.

I belive that the college you go to is close to his home, and his mom comes over on the weekends to his dorm. Brings treats over and cooks for Viktor and Jayce to last them the week. Very mama bear

The first time Ximena saw you was in early Saturday morning. You stayed over after finishing a project, it was too late to go back to your dorm and you slept over. You woke up to the smell of coffee. Jayce still sleeping at your side like a rock. You dragged yourself out of bed in one of Jayce’s big t-shirts and some fuzzy socks he bought for you.

“Oh! Who is this pretty girl?!” You heard a kind voice express. You saw a tall and gorgeous woman cooking at the stove. From the pictures Jayce showed you it was Ximena Talis, his mom!

Viktor was sitting in the counter stuffing his face with pancakes. “That’s Jayce’s girlfriend, Mrs. Talis.”

“My Jayce has a girlfriend!”

She made her way to you drying her wet hands on her apron. She gave you the biggest hug and you giggled at her boldness.

“I’m Ximena Talis, Jayce’s mom! But you can call me Ximena.” She cupped your face in her hands and gave your cheeks a squeeze. Looking over your features lovingly then stepping away slightly to look at the rest of you.

“You’re a cutie! ¡Y mira esas curvas que tienes! (And look at your curves!)”

She placed her palms on your wide hips, and felt them over her son’s shirt.

“Wow, okay—” You heard Viktor choke on his coffee.

“Mom! What are you doing? That’s embarrassing!” Jayce was beyond frustrated of his mom’s actions. 

“Jayce Antony Talis! When were you going to tell me you had a girlfriend?!

“We only started dating a few months ago and—”

“I don’t want to hear it, Jayce! Come here my dear! Let’s get you some breakfast before he lets you go hungry.” She dragged you back to the stove and hugged you by the shoulders. And it was the most delicious hug you’ve had in a while.

“Mamá, don’t suffocate her please!” Jayce took a seat next to Viktor that was silently recording this shit show for his private Snapchat stories.

“Oh, shush! So do you want blueberries or chocolate chips in your pancakes?” She petted your cheek lovingly.

“Can I have both?” You asked with puppy eyes.

“You are just like my Jayce!�� Her eyes twinkled as she prepared a plethora of pancakes for all of you.

In Arcane, the Talis house is know for their toolmaking. In this Modern AU his family owns a small chain of workshops and supply stores. They specialize in welding and power-tools.

He brings you all the time to his families original workshop and makes steel flowers and trinkets for you.

Has a full skin care routine. One for day time and night time. Does face masks a few times a week for hydration and sun protection because of baseball practice. Always wears sunscreen! And applies multiple times a day.

Also loves smelling good for you. He was a pretty nice selection of perfumes. Jayce seems to be more inclined to sweeter and less overpowering types of smells. Doesn’t like to have the type of cologne that literally envelopes the room in a smoky way. Likes perfumes that blend well and you have to stand close to have a good whiff.

His a big boy! And eats a lot to keep up with his hours of exercise and studying. Totally the kind of guy that downed all his meal points and is left eating leftovers in the final semester months.

Jayce will literally lick the plate clean with whatever you cook. Buys you all the ingredients before hand like a gentleman. Once ate a whole batch of brownies you made and you were utterly disgusted by him.

“Jayce, I may be a fat ass but I will never pull this shit. This is inhumane and worrisome.”

“But they were so good. I couldn’t resist!” He wiped the crumbs off his face and sucks his fingers clean.

“Good enough that you didn’t let me have at least one?!”

You guys also like to try out new recipes together. And by try I mean Jayce burning his share and you ordering food after his disaster in the kitchen.

Since becoming partners you spend a lot of time in their dorm and each one of you takes turns making a fresh batch of cookies for the week. Viktor is a master baker, so when it’s his turn to make cookies they are gone before the end of the week. Jayce is an ass and just buys Oreos, gaslights Viktor and you into thinking they’re “gourmet” or some shit.

Viktor is his keeper. If you want to do anything with Jayce you need to ask Viktor for permission.

“Can I have him for tonight, Vicky?”

“Absolutely not! We have Great British Bake Off tonight. Who is going to help me rank the dishes from worst to best if he is not here?”

“Every time it feels like I’m in the 1800 asking for a hand in marriage even though I just want to go get ice cream with Jayce!” You groaned at Viktor’s response.

“Ice cream? I will allow it if you get me a scoop of strawberry.”

“Thank you great king Viktor! Your prince will be moderately safe in my hands.” You bowed your head like a knight in a castle asking for the princess hand.

Jayce is a total cuddle bug! His favorite spot to snuggle up is the couch. Likes having your back pressed against his chest with your legs tangled with his while playing video games or watching movies. Jayce is the little spoon all the way when you’re in his bed. Likes his hair to be played with while he has his head on your chest.

He wears hoochie daddy shorts! Those super tiny shorts were you can see his boxers peaking out the legs. You love how they make his thick thighs and ass look plump and juicy.

“I told you not to wear these in public.” You disrespectfully grabbed his ass. Enjoying the fullness in your palms. “You know what that ass does to me. Makes me want to hump you!” You proceeded to hump his leg and bark at the same time.

“Babe, stop! We are in public for Gods sake!” Jayce pushed on your shoulders trying to get you off his leg.

“Then you shouldn’t be asking for it!”

He traces your stretch marks when you are alone together in bed! The ones on your belly are so especial to him. His hands are big and warm and they feel so good on the fresh ones you get.

He also has stretch marks! Mainly on his arms and glutes. You call them his tiger stripes.

Grows out his beard and hair after his second year. His work load tripled and doesn’t have much time to trim them. You absolutely love his new look!

“Kissing you feels like eating a carpet! I love it.”

“You’re sure a weirdo, babe!”

You always make time to go to his baseball games. He throws you kisses and winks before each batting section as a form of good luck. Jayce is an amazing hit, and always starts and finishes with a breathtaking home run.

He looks incredible in his white and blue uniform. And that ass of his looks delightfully plump in his dirty white jeans. You always bring binoculars to just stare at him instead of watching the game.

Got badly injured in game because one guy of the opposite team kicked his knee in while touching base. His injury was so severe that he was recommended to quit it all together and has to wear a knee brace for the rest of his life.

Started getting bad scores and even was about to loose his sponsorship because of his mental health after the incident. Started drinking shortly after to quell the pain. He completely spiraled out of control.

“I-I don’t know how I am anymore. I’ve failed. I’ve failed. I’m worthless.” He came to your dorm room late one night. He had been drinking enough that his true emotions started swallowing him up.

“Jayce, don’t say that—” He launched into your arms, shaking in hurt as his tears stained your top “If you were all those things you said then you wouldn’t have all these people backing you up. You are loved Jayce. I love you.”

“Then why do I feel like this? Like I want everything to burn and collapse?”

“Because it’s unfair what you are going through. So cry and breakdown all you want. I’ll be here to dry your tears and help you stand.”

“Thank you, my love.”

“No problem, baby.”

Jayce has always suffered from depression and suicidal thoughts since the passing of his father. So you felt like you would have lost him of it wasn’t for the support you guys gave him. Viktor with his crazy science hypothesis and projects. And you with your emotional support.

“If you ever want to talk I’m right here, Jayce. And if you don’t want to talk, then let me be the shoulder you can cry on.”

“Only if you promise me to help me get my chemistry grade up.”

“I wouldn’t say no even if the world burned down.”

He started becoming his self again, getting amazing grades and taking care of himself. Saving his beared and cutting his hair (noooooo).

Jayce seems like the guy that likes to keep busy, so since he doesn’t have any sports to keep him hands on he takes up more artsy activities. Since he is familiar working with metal, Jayce starts doing woodwork and pottery.

You introduced him to pottery when you surprised him with a couples class to make matching mugs. You have never seen him smile like that since the injury! The mug you molded looked like a kindergartener made it but Jayce liked it so much that it’s his number 1 coffee cup.

The pottery class impacted him so much that he bought all the materials online and started his own little studio. Gives out all his little creations to his friends. Heimer even has a pencil holder in his office that Jayce made him.

Jayce is the only one of your friend group how has a car, it’s an old beat up red Toyota Corola with one of the doors colored blue. That car was where Cait and Vi first had their kiss after Jayce picked them up drunk from a party. The car takes seconds to start and everyone cheers when the engine runs. You and Jayce go every other weekend to the beach that is a few minutes from campus and have a picnic. Is the car where Viktor fell out the window because Jayce was doing donuts in the Burger King parking lot and he was sitting on the window opening.

Your favorite thing to do is going midnight snack runs! Almost 1 in the morning and you hear a knock on your door and there is Jayce in his pajamas. Shaking his keys in his fingers.

“You want some McDonald’s?”

“Let me put my bra on.”

You also go grocery shopping together. And Viktor tags along sitting inside of shopping cart.

Let’s you decorate his knee brace with cute stickers! I mentioned in my Viktor headcanons that Jayce likes Sanrio characters, especially Pompompurin. So if you have any Sanrio stickers he wants them on his brace.

Jayce likes to collect miniature things. And is very into Japanese / Asian culture. He was totally a Pokémon and Gundam kid when growing up. Still has all his old figurines and has some in his dorm room.

Jayce was raised by a single mom almost his whole life, so he was into some very “girly” things at a young age. Likes to bake (even if everything he cooks turns out a little burnt) and garden, going shopping and keeping up with his hygiene. He never had a “boy smelling room”. Imagine him going to another boy’s dorm for a group project and him being utterly disgusted by the man smell.

Since then he keeps to his own, and ever goes to another’s dorm room except yours and Cait’s.

He runs a tight ship and does all in his power to keep everything clean. Viktor is a little on the messier side than Jayce. They get into petty arguments all the time thanks to one of Jayce’s house rules.

“Viktor you aren’t supposed to put wooden kitchens utensils in the washing machine! And what did I tell you about not taking out the potatoes out of the plastic? They will get bad quicker!” He was like a desperate house wife. You and Viktor were playing video games when he just went off ranting.

“Jayce, I want a divorce.” You slapped Viktor’s shoulder and crackled at Jayce’s flustered face.

“I’m not going to let you!”

He doesn’t like the cold at all. He and his mom got into a bad car accident in a snow storm and it took a rescue team almost 4 hours to get them out of the freezing cold. He got bad hypothermia and his mom lost her fingers.

“Jayce if you make me put another sweater on you will have to roll me out to get me to class.”

“Then you shouldn’t have put only one on. You were trying to be sneaky.”

“I have a nice layer a fat on me! If I put too much clothes on I’ll suffocate!”

“I don’t care! I just want my lady to be warm. Now which one do you want? Blue or black?”

“Jesus, help me so I don’t suffer from a heat stroke in December—”

His favorite part of your body is your hips, how plush and soft they fit in his hands. Loves to hold your hips when he hugs you and when you’re walking beside him. Jayce goes crazy for your tummy / muffin top. When you sit down his eyes immediately go to your middle. And if you wear a short body-con skirt that highlights the crest of your belly he will go feral and all gushy.

And if you have wide shoulders consider this man whipped. He finds women with strong shoulders incredibly sexy. Jayce also has big shoulders and it feels like he has something in common with you. Likes to give you hand massages on them. Calls you his “tough lady”.

I like to think that Jayce grew up more on the chubby side and was teased for it. And then he had an amazing glow up. Because Jayce has too much personality for a tall, handsome man! And he would have been such a cutie as a baby too! Really big and chunky, and also super long.

Ximena brought his baby pictures over one time and you saw that he had a massive head. You teased him over it and now he gets embarrassed when you bring it up.

When you get angry or sassy at him Jayce gets very sad! Like a kicked pup. He just stands in front of you with glossy eyes and a quivering lip. You don’t stay mad at him for long.

Even with his knee injury Jayce is very athletic. He likes doing handstands and cartwheels to impress you. He likes to annoy you and do walking handstands. Likes follow you around with his legs in the air and hands on the ground as you do chores.

“Is this your mating dance, Jaybe?”

“Is it working?”

“Ehh, you’re getting there. Get me the extra dish soap from the pantry and maybe I’ll take my pants off.”

“On it!” And you saw him scurry off still in his handstand before you could say anything else. He will have a massive headache later.

Since you started dating Jayce you also got adopted by his friends group. And you have girls night with Cait, Vi, and Sevika. Which means you and Cait sitting on the couch with face masks on drinking margaritas while Sevika and Vi beat the hell out of each other with their boxing gloves. Jayce and Viktor try to bribe the girls with snacks, it always works.

“Boys, get out it’s girls night!”

“But we want to watch Legally Blonde and get our toes painted!” Jayce pushed the door as Cait put all her weight on it.

“We order pizza.” Viktor yelled on the other side.

Vi gasped. “Cupcake, let them in!”

“What the hell! I’m also painting your finger nails as retribution.” You patted the empty space next you on the sofa and Viktor sat down. You pulled out the box of nail polish. “What color, V?”

“I want mine in purple.”

“Blue for me, babe!” Jayce sat on the ground between your legs, resting his back on the sofa cushions.”

Definitely steals your clothes! He will go through your closet in front of you with no shame and pick out want ever he likes. He makes sure to leave some of his fresh laundry so you can wear his stuff too.

If you ever heard of “Walk a Mile in Her Shoes” is a foundation / fundraiser for women who have suffered from various types of abuse. And they have an anual walk where people, mostly men, walk in heels for a mile to show their support for the women in their life. And he participates every year and you cheer him on!

It would be so fun if Sevika and Vi walked with him! And they all are trying to support each others balance but Vi keeps twisting her ankle every so often, so both Sevika and Jayce have one of her arms around their shoulders as they carry and drag her feet off the ground.

“You’re doing amazing, sweetie!” You yelled as you watched them struggle to get to the finish line.

“I think I don’t want my rights anymore!” Sevika ran bow legged as she passed you. Jayce hiding his pain with a forced smile.

They decided to make a run for it to finish first and it ended up with Sevika’s lip busted, Vi with a bruised foot and Jayce with his hands and knees all scraped.

Jayce overall is such an amazing person! Complex and utterly devoted to you. He makes you dream of an endless future with positivity and love.

[solarsturniolo]

𝕾𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: in which Matt is failing his classes and at risk of having to repeat the semester, and his tutor is the reason behind it.

𝕯𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗: This is a collaborative story that me and another person started on, but I am in charge of it now :) All characters in this story are of age. None of the characters are minors.

𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: cursing / smut / switch!matt / switch!fem reader / male masturbation / wet dreams / use of good boy / virgin!matt / p in v / oral (fem receiving) / oral (male receiving) / overstimulation / breeding kink / praise kink / mommy kink / scenes mentioning anxiety

𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 3,700

Previous parts: Intro / One / Two /

He tossed and turned that night, unable to get the dream out of his head. It had all felt so real. He could smell her perfume, waves of vanilla surrounding him as he laid at her mercy. He could feel her touch, her soft fingers running along his skin, a trail of goosebumps following close behind, warmth encompassing him. He could hear her voice, soft praises and coos of adoration falling from her lips, her tone warm and sweet, flowing like maple syrup dripping from a stack of pancakes. He could taste her lips as she kissed him, her cherry chapstick driving him wild as he nipped at her bottom lip. He could see her electrifying gaze as they locked eyes, his orgasm rushing through his body like a lightning bolt striking a tree. It felt so real…

He tried to fall asleep again, really he did. He wanted to fall asleep again. He wanted to drift back into the heavenly dream he had previously found himself in. He prayed to whatever higher power would listen to him, begging to be transported back into his dream. After twenty minutes of tossing and turning, peeking over at his alarm clock, groaning in annoyance, and repeating the cycle, Matt found himself sitting up in his bed. He grabbed his phone from his nightstand, unplugging it from the charger that was barely holding itself together after years of use. He tried to distract himself, hoping that the incessant scrolling and non-stimulating content would lull him to sleep. Unfortunately, he wasn’t that lucky. Even after scrolling through and switching between apps, Matt only found himself wide awake, annoyed, and horny.

Undeniably, uncontrollably, unbelievably horny. 

Matt opened the Safari app on his phone, clicking the address bar. The all too familiar website popped up without him even needing to type anything, a clear sign that he had made this search far too many times. Matt made a mental note to clear his search history as he clicked on the site, waiting impatiently for it to load. 

He scrolled through page after page, briefly glimpsing at the exaggerated titles to each video, none of which captured his interest. He let out a frustrated grunt, his dick straining against the cotton fabric of his boxers. He wanted nothing more than to jerk off, to get rid of the incessant throbbing so that he could just sleep, but unfortunately for Matt, he was picky with the porn he watched. Chris made fun of him for it, but he didn’t care. Seeing a woman bent over on some AirBnB couch getting the shit railed out of her, filling the empty disconnected atmosphere with obnoxious sounds, feigning the one thing he truly craved; he just couldn’t bring himself to watch something so meaningless, nonetheless enjoy it. Nothing about it was appealing to him. It wasn’t real. He wanted something real. 

But he had no idea how he felt about actual sex. He’d kissed a few times, but never with tongue and nothing past that. The furthest he had ever gotten was the time he made out with a girl in ninth grade and creamed his pants when she straddled his lap.  Matt was always insecure about his inexperience, afraid that when the time finally came, he would disappoint. This was brand new territory for him…and it was all her fault.

His gaze flickered to the top of his phone, reading the time that was displayed on the screen. “Holy shit,” he muttered. It was much too late in the night for him to still be awake, and yet here he was, pulling on a pair of faded flannel pyjama pants before shuffling over to the door. His fingertips grazed over the handle, unlocking the door and slowly pushing it open. Matt looked down the dark hallway, and once he was sure everyone was asleep, he carefully tiptoed over to the stairs. 

Each step had Matt tensing up, the old wooden floorboards groaning and squeaking under the weight of his feet. He cringed at a particularly loud step, even pausing for a moment to ensure he hadn’t woken anyone up. After another painfully long three minutes, Matt finally reached the bottom of the steps and made a beeline for the kitchen. In seconds he found himself standing in front of Nick’s bedroom door, and Matt raised his hand to knock but he hesitated. He leaned closer, his ear ghosting over the old faded wood. The muffled sound of the tv could be heard, along with Nick’s agitated remarks. “Are you fucking kidding me? You don’t fucking deserve her and now you’re getting her voted off!?” Matt smiled to himself. Once he was sure that his brother was awake and not murmuring nonsense in his sleep, he knocked on the door.

“God fucking- Yeah! Come in!.”

 He opened the door to see the room bathed in lavender LED light, the television playing whatever show Nick had suddenly found interest in. Tonight, it just so happened to be one of those ridiculous dating reality TV shows. Nick sat in his bed, his back propped against pillows, legs stretched out and arms crossed over his stomach. He turned his head the second the door opened, half expecting Mary Lou to come lecture him for being too loud, but he relaxed upon seeing his brother in the doorway. “Jesus, you can’t sleep either?” Nick huffed. “Get in here.”

Matt furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, until he saw Chris’s head poke up from the other side of the bed. He was sitting on the floor, for whatever reason, and he flashed a cheesy grin when he saw his brother standing in the doorway. 

“Why are you on the floor.”

“Wow, nice to see you too Matthew,” Chris rolled his eyes. “Nice of you to show your face at-“ he held up his arm, looking at his bare wrist. “Two thirty in the morning.” 

“Ignore him,” Nick mumbled, rolling his eyes and grabbing the remote controller from his nightstand to pause his show. “He’s annoyed because Nate left him hanging-“

Chris huffed, an inaudible response following as he turned back around and sunk back down onto the floor. The other two shared a look of irritation at the sound of Chris typing on his phone, the younger of the trio completely unbothered by the incessant clicking. Rolling his eyes, Nick looked at Matt expectantly. “Well?” 

Matt sighed, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him. He sulked over to Nick’s bed, collapsing onto the empty side as his brother moved over to make space for him. Matt wriggled under Nick’s blankets, keeping his face buried in the pillow. 

“What’s wrong,” Nick said, his tone changing the question to a demand. 

The keyboard sounds paused for a moment. “Yeah, your vibe is like…weird,” Chris added. He langered up from the ground and sat on the edge of his brother’s mattress. “You didn’t talk to us like all afternoon.” 

Matt sighed, questioning if he should say anything at all. But his brothers were his sanctuary. He always told them everything. It was eating him up inside, keeping this from them. He wasn’t good at keeping secrets, especially from the two people that could always read him like a book. He wanted to tell them everything; his grades, the tutoring, her. 

He decided to take one life crisis at a time. 

 “...There’s a girl,” He started. 

Nick shrieked. Chris looked at Nick, punching him in the upper arm as a proud smile formed on his face. “I fucking told you, you owe me lunch tomorrow.” 

Matt looked up from the pillow, furrowing his eyebrows yet again. “You knew?”

“Well no shit,” Chris laughed. “You? Willingly going to the library? I put the pieces together,” he smirked. “So what were you doing in the library with this girl?” he teased. 

Matt felt his face flush with heat, shooting a glare in Chris’s direction. “Nothing you’re thinking, pervert. We…” he trailed off. I can’t tell them I'm failing. I just can’t do it. “We were going over a project for English. That’s it.”

“Do we know her?” Nick asked as he opened instagram up on his phone. He wasn’t disinterested, but he knew how his brother was. Matt got embarrassed easily, so on the rare occasion that Nick did want to know more, he also knew that he had to be mindful of his reactions. Nonchalance was his best bet.

Matt huffed. Chris’s eyes widened and his smile grew. “No fucking way.”

“Chris-“

“Still?! It’s been four years, man!”

Nick looked back and forth between the two, confused by their exchange. Matt groaned, flopping back down face first into the pillow. “Matt liked this girl in our grade back when we started high school, but couldn’t grow the nuts to ask her out,” Chris filled Nick in. “We had her in our woodshop class last year and it was like I was partners with a brick wall,” Chris laughed, only making Matt all the more embarrassed. “I didn’t think you still liked her.”

“Shut up,” he groaned. 

Nick finally decided to chime in, dropping his phone onto his chest. “Wait a second, it’s not that girl from your weird baking class was it?” 

Matt’s face grew even more red, if that was even possible. “Nick, shut up-“

Now it was Chris’s turn to tilt his head quizzically, brow furrowed, looking at Nick expectantly for some context. “Baking class? The fuck-“

“Introduction to culinary,” Matt corrected them, hiding his face with the palms of his hands. 

“You were probably at practice or something,” Nick dismissed his younger brother with a wave of his hand before continuing. “Matt’s cooking class had some weird competition thing after school, me and mom went to it-“

“Nick, shut the fuck up,” Matt warned his brother, though his threat was open ended and held no real weight to it. He rolled onto his side, his back facing his brothers.

“Matt made this god awful chicken parmesan, but mom pretended to like it-“

Matt huffed, crossing his arms over his chest now. “It wasn’t that bad-“ he defended, remembering the way his mother cupped his face and kissed his forehead in the middle of the classroom, praising him for his hard work, all the while his brother discretely tossed his plate into the garbage bin out of sight. 

“Anyways, we all got to try everyone’s food and this girl made the BEST fucking coconut cream pie. Chris, it was actually unreal how fucking good it was-“

“Nick I swear to fuck-“

Chris smiled in amusement, criss-crossing his legs as he indulged himself in Nick’s story telling. It was rare for Chris to remain quiet like this, but at the expense of his brother’s ego, he remained engaged and attentive. Matt groaned, realizing there was no way to stop his brother from telling this embarrassingly awful story. He yanked the pillow out from behind his head, letting his head fall back onto the mattress before pulling the pillow over his face, wanting nothing more than to suffocate himself right then and there. 

“This motherfucker tries the pie, looks her dead in the eyes, and tells her he likes her cream-“

Matt flinched at the ferocity of Chris’s laughter thundering throughout the room, echoes of it bouncing off of the walls. The sound was followed by countless shushes from Nick, beckoning their brother to keep his voice down. “Mom and dad are sleeping you idiot,” Nick hissed, smacking Chris on the arm. Usually, Chris would retaliate and hit him back, but he was far too entertained by the story to even care about the sting he felt on his bicep. 

“You told her-“ he cut himself off, laughing again. Matt groaned and rolled over onto his back, pressing the pillow into his face with more force. Maybe if I press down hard enough, I’ll suffocate myself. “You told her you liked her cream?” Chris managed to force out between giggles. 

“No-“ Matt grunted, closing his eyes tightly as he felt the pillow being snatched from his grasp. “I told her I really liked her cream.”

This, of course, causes another fit of giggles to rise from Chris’s chest. Tears flooded his eyes as he leaned forward, doing everything within his power to keep his volume at a decent level. Nick rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t contain the toothy grin that snuck its way onto his face. “You guys suck,” Matt grumbled. “This is like middle school humor, grow up,” he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest once again. He tried to push the memory out of his mind, but it crept up on him and lingered, like a monster in the shadows. Her fingers grazing past his as she handed him a plate, her gaze locking with his as he eagerly tasted her homemade dessert, the words escaping him faster than he could even think.

Chris sniffled, grasping his shirt collar as he found himself finally settling after his laughing fit. He laid himself between his brothers, wrapping an arm over the front of Matt’s shoulders. “I love you, man. You crack me up,” he grinned, another string of giggles threatening to escape him as he replayed the moment in his head again. 

“I can’t ask her out, not after that-“ Matt mumbled, carefully uncrossing his arms so as to not disturb his brother’s comfortable resting position. He’d never admit it, but he quite enjoyed his brothers being touchy with him. Something about it made him feel safe and connected with them. It felt like home. 

“Maybe she found it flattering,” Nick suggested. “She probably knew you were talking about the pie-“

“Or were you?” Chris smirked, raising an eyebrow at Matt. 

In a swift motion, Matt walloped Chris in the bicep, shooting him a look that made Chris shiver. “Alright dude, my bad.”

Matt looked over at Nick, desperation clear in his eyes. “What the fuck do I do, man? I can barely fucking focus during our study sessions,” he sighed. 

Nick’s eyebrows furrowed. “I thought you were working on a project?”

Matt felt his heart drop, his mouth going dry. Fuck. He needed to lie, and he needed to do it fast. “Same thing, you know what I meant,” he mumbled. He pushed Chris’s arm off of his upper chest, rolling his eyes when Chris moved his arm right back to where it had been seconds prior. 

Nick dismissed Matt’s previous statement, not thinking too much of his slip up. “Tell her she’s pretty and ask her out. She is pretty, right?”

Matt’s eyes closed, his chest falling with a deep exhale. All he could think about was her. Her smile, her eyes, her laugh, her voice…Once he had started to feel his dick stiffen in his pyjama pants, he opened his eyes once more, staring at the ceiling. “I can’t even find the words, man.”

“Then it should be easy. Can we be done here? I’m trying to see who’s gonna get voted off next,” Nick mumbled, leaning back against the headboard of his bed, his focus shifting back to the television on his dresser. 

X O X O X O

Matt hadn't gotten much sleep that night. He watched with heavy eyes as the numbers on his alarm clock changed; every sixty seconds felt like an hour. His head spun, his imagination driving him crazy with fake scenario after fake scenario, conversations that would never happen, touches they would never share. His heart felt heavy. Matt huffed, rolling over onto his other side.  He winced, his hand moving to relieve the ache between his legs. Never in his life did Matt feel as sexually frustrated as he did now. Even when he went through puberty, it was never like this. The desire burning in him was a flame so ancient, yet so ripe at the same time. Foreign, yet familiar. A primal hunger for physical connection, a thirst for release. Diseased with lust. It felt wrong to feel this way, to crave any piece of her. Hell, he hardly knew her. But God, it felt so right at the same time. To crave her, to need her, to have her all to himself. It was enthralling. Perpetual. Addicting. 

The only downside to it was the sneaking around. He hated lying to his brothers, it made his stomach flip and his palms sweat, but he was far too embarrassed and ashamed to admit what was really going on. To admit that if he wasn’t nearly doomed to repeat senior year, she would have never even looked his way. 

Although it wasn’t ideal, being in this tutoring program gave him a newfound purpose. And, yes, there was a possibility that the program itself wasn’t the only aspect that had Matt leaping out of bed in the morning. 

It was strange. He had never spent so long trying to get ready in the mornings before school. Usually he’d throw on the nearest pair of sweats and whatever hoodie he had laying around in his room. But now it was different. He wanted to look good; he wanted to look good for her. He felt ridiculous, to say the least. Outfit after outfit, pulled on and quickly discarded into a pile on the floor. Matt huffed, going to his dresser and opting on a pair of cargo pants instead of his usual sweatpants. 

It would be worth noting that February in Somerville Massachusetts is cold. Very fucking cold. By deciding on the cargos, Matt was also sacrificing his comfort and warmth…but if she would even notice or say anything, it would be worth it. And so, Matt snatched a purple crewneck from his closet and turned, shutting the door with his heel as he pulled it on over his head. He finished off the outfit with his air forces that were falling apart at the seams and, before he left his bedroom, he went back to his dresser, opening the top drawer. He dug around through the plethora of socks, his fingers brushing over the cold glass bottle buried beneath them. 

He didn’t usually wear cologne. He couldn’t even remember how he had gotten this bottle in his possession. But none of that mattered to him now. All that mattered was making the best impression that he could. He was mindful; only one spritz on the neck and one on his wrists. He buried the bottle back into his sock drawer before rushing to his full length mirror. He fixed his necklace, ensuring that the clasp was at the back of his neck. Matt ran his fingers through his hair, fluffing it and fixing it, huffing in annoyance as it fell right back into place. Once he was satisfied with his look, he grabbed his favorite coat from where it hung on the back of his desk chair and snatched his backpack from the corner of the room. He closed his bedroom door behind him as he left, flicking the light to his room off, and began his descent to the kitchen where his brothers were already waiting. He pulled his coat on, taking the last step down the staircase. Matt rounded the corner, passing the family room and finally stepping foot into the kitchen.

Nick’s gaze was locked on his phone, though he still managed to greet Matt. “Do you have a fucking herd of elephants up in your room?” He mumbled. 

Matt’s face reddened. “Huh?”

“You-” Nick looked up, and immediately his brow furrowed with suspicion. “It’s nine degrees out and you chose today to not wear sweatpants?” He questioned. 

Chris looked over his shoulder from where he sat at the island, shoulders hunched, his mouth full of toast. He didn’t bother waiting to swallow his food before speaking, though that came as a shock to neither of his brothers. “The fuck…you’re gonna turn into an ice cube.” Chris’s eyes widened as he took his phone out of his jacket pocket. “Wait, now I wanna listen to Ice Cube-“

Matt pointed at Chris languidly. “Not happening, I’m getting aux.”

Chris huffed, dropping his phone face down onto the countertop. “Fuck you,” he mumbled under his breath, shoveling the remaining piece of toast into his mouth. Matt shuffled over to the fridge, eyeing the contents inside. His stomach growled, but nothing seemed appetizing. He checked the pantry next, snatching a granola bar and a bag of mini muffins, stuffing them into his coat pocket. He closed the pantry door with gentle intent. His brow furrowed at the feeling of his phone vibrating in his pocket, but once he pulled it out and checked the notification, his heart leapt into his throat. Matt’s ears glowed a bright red, his palms beginning to sweat as he typed his password in and opened Snapchat. 

Snapchat // New Message 

no tutoring today, extra curricular stuff (groan). keep working on your essay and i’ll check it tmrw :) 

Matt stared at the message, his heart sinking in his chest. All of the effort he put into his appearance today was for nothing. He exhaled, leaning against the wall as he thought of what to say. Something nonchalant, something cool…anything that didn’t scream desperation. 

Oh ok.

He had to admit, he was disappointed. He had really been looking forward to seeing her again. He thought for a moment before he opened his Snapchat again, clicking back into the chat. 

Yk I’m free after school if your still up for it.

He stared at the message for a long time; so long that her bitmoji had popped up in the bottom left corner, peeking out over the text bar. ‘Jesus Matt,’ he thought to himself. ‘For once in your life, grow some fucking balls.’

He clicked the send button and, with just as much haste, he fled the chat and locked his phone, shoving it back into his pocket. “If you’re not in the car in five minutes I’m leaving without you,” Matt announced, walking past Nick towards the stairs, making his way down to the mudroom to leave. Nick lifted his head again, looking towards the staircase with a furrowed brow.

“Are you fucking wearing cologne?!”

𖥔‧₊˚ ⊹ Tags 𖥔‧₊˚ ⊹

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[luvismenu]

Only When It's Us — JJK

you can’t wait to show your boyfriend the lingerie you bought — kinda nsfw

— drabble based on this ask !!

wc: 2.4k+

note: i’m so sorry it took me this long 🥲 but yay, it’s finally here!! wanted to keep this a little shorter, like 1.5k-ish words but i js couldn't help myself write a little more hehe— enjoy the silly, sexy moments <3 check the ask for warnings if you need them lolol love all of my owiu readers out there !! 🤍

ever since you started dating jungkook, life has felt... lighter.

it’s not that the stress is gone, there are still challenges ahead of you, but one thing that keeps you grounded is knowing your boyfriend will always be there for you.

like today, when he insisted on taking you out because you’ve been working so hard lately.

you’re out with jungkook and a group of your friends; yoongi, jimin, taehyung and his girlfriend hina, and jin with his wife da-eun. these are the people you’ve grown close to, thanks to jungkook encouraging you to meet them. you didn’t have many friends before, but now you do who you're thankful for.

and you’re especially grateful for hina and da-eun. hina, the same age as you, is a bundle of energy, while da-eun, a few years older, is a calming presence. even tho they're different than you, they still, just.. get you.

the day started at a museum; jin and yoongi’s idea. it was calm and peaceful, exactly what you needed.

jungkook stayed by your side the whole time, his arm draped around your shoulders or your waist, leaning in to whisper sweet things to you. and okay, maybe he sneaked you into an empty storage room for a heated makeout session, but that’s beside the point.

it was still peaceful.

next came the arcade, a suggestion from jimin and taehyung. while the guys, especially jungkook, went wild with the games, you and the others enjoyed watching. yoongi’s consistent losing streak provided endless laughs, and the chaos turned into pure fun.

when jungkook noticed that the guys had been dominating the day’s plans, he suggested letting the women choose the next stop. naturally, hina, da-eun, and you all agreed on shopping, much to the guys’ amused groans.

now, you’re at the mall, wandering through the shops. the energy of the place, with its bright displays and bustling crowd, somehow lifts your spirits.

“i literally don’t want anything,” jimin says, stifling a yawn.

“i might grab something,” taehyung adds, his eyes darting to the plushie section. you can’t help but think it’s for hina. she told you loves collecting them, even showed you her collection.

you, on the other hand, have just one plushie from childhood, but you get the appeal. plushies are adorable.

“i really wanna buy some cute clothes!” hina exclaims, her excitement contagious as taehyung pulls her close with a chuckle.

“me too,” da-eun says with a smile, glancing at jin, who nods in agreement.

“what about you, babe?” jungkook asks, looking down at you with that soft gaze of his.

“me three!” you grin, and the group laughs.

“well, let’s head to the women’s section i gues—” jimin begins, but hina cuts him off sharply.

“men are not allowed.”

the guys blink in confusion.

“huh?” they say in unison.

“why can’t we come? it’s just a clothes section,” taehyung protests, crossing his arms.

“because we’re having girls’ time, right?” hina says, looking to you and da-eun for backup.

“absolutely,” da-eun replies without hesitation.

you nod with a smile.

“but i thought i could help pick something for—” jungkook starts, his hand still on your waist, but da-eun interrupts him.

“girls’ time!” she declares, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards her. jungkook is left standing there, sulking like a kid whose toy has been taken away.

“i’m okay with that,” yoongi says, almost like a deadpan. “plus, i need to sit down. my legs are killing me.”

“same here. you girls enjoy,” jin adds, planting a kiss on da-eun’s forehead.

“all right, grandpas, let’s find you a bench,” jimin says with an eye roll, leading yoongi and jin away. taehyung pauses to kiss hina on the cheek and whispering ‘have fun’ before following them.

jungkook stays rooted in place, looking like he’s waiting for something.

you cup his face in your hands, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “see you later, babe.”

he pouts, his bottom lip jutting out just a bit, and you chuckle before turning to join the girls. behind you, jungkook slowly trails after the guys, shaking his head with a smile.

now it’s just you, hina, and da-eun in the women’s section, sifting through racks of clothes and chatting about everything.

“i am so glad we can take our time now and let the boys wait. i don’t even like museums,” hina huffs, sorting through a pile of clothes alongside you and da-eun.

you and da-eun chuckle, shaking your heads.

“look, this is cute. it matches your aesthetic too!” you say, holding up a light pink mini dress.

“and it looks like it would fit you perfectly,” da-eun adds with a smile.

hina’s eyes light up as she takes the dress. “i’m gonna try this on right now!” she squeals, rushing off which makes you both smile.

you and da-eun continue browsing. she picks out a few outfits while you grab some comfy clothes and a few dresses. as you glance around, your eyes land on the lingerie section nearby.

one particular set catches your attention; a lacy, red, and very explicit set that makes your cheeks warm just thinking about it. it’s the kind of thing you’d love to wear for jungkook.

you blink, trying to shake the thought, but da-eun’s voice from behind startles you. “you should buy it.”

you flinch a little and chuckle nervously. “what? no, i was just looking.”

da-eun smiles knowingly. “do you not like it?”

you look at it again and you sigh, giving in. “i love it,” you admit.

before she can respond, hina comes bounding back with the pink dress in her hands, her face glowing. “you guys were right, it fits perfectly, and i love ittt!”

you and da-eun smile at her.

“i sent a pic to tae, and he’s already drooling.” she chuckles before continuing, “what about you, da-eun? are you gonna get that pretty, sexy dress you were looking at?” hina teases with a laugh.

“obviously!” da-eun says with a grin. then both of them turn their attention to you.

“what about you, ___?” hina asks excitedly. “did you pick anything... spicyy?”

you glance awkwardly at da-eun, who grins mischievously and subtly points hina towards the lingerie display. hina gasps dramatically, her eyes widening.

“that is so fucking hot! oh my god, you should totally get that, ___. please, please, please!” hina exclaims, practically bouncing on her toes.

you laugh, hiding your face in your hands, a little flustered.

“i’m getting that one.”

“oh my gosh, i missed food!” jimin gasps dramatically, stuffing a bite into his mouth.

the eight of you are seated in a cozy restaurant, wrapping up the day with dinner after hours of fun. the table is alive with chatter and laughter, everyone enjoying their meals. the couples sit side by side, exchanging sweet moments, which jimin predictably calls out.

“ugh, get a room, all of you!” he groans, rolling his eyes.

“honestly, yes, get a fucking room. you’re all just rubbing it in that i’m single,” yoongi adds with a dry chuckle, making everyone laugh.

you’re beside jungkook, his hand intertwined with yours under the table. his thumb lazily rubs soft circles on your skin while he chats with yoongi about something. you’re barely paying attention to their conversation because all you can think about is how ridiculously fucking good he looks right now.

he’s not even trying, just sitting there in a simple shirt and jeans, his hair slightly messy, and yet he’s got your mind wandering to... other things.

speaking of other things, you think about the clothes you bought earlier, the lingerie and a few silky nightdresses that were too beautiful to resist. the thought of showing them to him makes your heart race.

gently, you slip your hand out of his hold and place it on his thigh. his conversation falters as he glances at you, his dark eyes searching yours like he’s silently asking, ‘what’s wrong?'

you shake your head, smiling softly. his lips curve into a small, confused smile, but he goes back to talking.

you wait for the right moment, checking to make sure no one’s paying attention, and then let your hand slide a little higher.

that gets his full attention.

his gaze snaps to your hand, now dangerously close to a place you know will drive him insane. his jaw tightens, and you can see the realization in his eyes— he knows exactly what you’re doing.

leaning in, he brings his lips close to your ear, his voice low and deep. “if you keep doing that, i might have to take you home right now.”

you smile teasingly, leaning closer to whisper, “what are you talking about, jeon? i’m doing nothing.” your hand retreats, as if you’re completely innocent, and he sucks in a sharp breath.

you pick up the drink infront of you, sipping on it with a teasing smile.

he shakes his head slightly, a small smile tugging at his lips, but you can tell he’s trying to distract himself from the thoughts in his head— thoughts about exactly what he wants to do to you later.

. . .

soon, the evening winds down, and everyone begins saying their goodbyes.

“this was fun. we should do this more often,” taehyung says, and everyone nods in agreement.

as you’re saying goodbye to hina and da-eun, you notice the way they giggle at you, their eyes glinting with... mischief. you smile knowingly, already guessing what’s on their minds.

“what? what’s going on?” jin asks, looking at da-eun curiously.

she simply smiles at him and says, “just girlie things.”

jin frowns slightly, still confused, but lets it go with a soft laugh.

“okay then, let's go home.”

the door barely shuts behind you before jungkook has you pressed against it, his lips capturing yours in a kiss so desperate it leaves you breathless. his hands are on your waist, pulling you closer, and you can feel the heat radiating off him as his body presses against yours.

you kiss him back with equal intensity, your hands wrapping around his neck pulling him down, but then you pull away slightly, resting your forehead against his.

“wait,” you whisper, your breathing uneven.

“wait?” his voice is low, and he looks at you like he’s already losing his patience.

you nod, smiling as you try to calm your racing heart. “i want to show you the clothes i bought today.”

he groans, throwing his head bacm dramatically. “right now?”

“you’ll like it, i promise.” you take his hand and lead him to your bedroom, pushing him gently onto the bed

“stay here,” you instruct, pointing at him before disappearing into the closet

he watches you go, running a hand through his hair, still trying to cool down.

a few moments later, you step out wearing a long, dark purple dress that hugs your body in all the right places. the fabric flows down gracefully, and the color makes your skin glow.

jungkook’s eyes widen slightly, his eyes raking over you with awe. “you look... fuck.. wow. so pretty.”

you twirl slightly, letting the fabric swish around you. “you like it?”

“baby, you look so fucking beautiful,” he breathes, sitting up straighter.

smiling, you step back into the closet and reappear moments later in another dress— this time, it’s a bit shorter, hitting just above your knees, with a soft floral design. jungkook grins, biting his lip as he watches you show it off.

“okay, this one’s cute,” he says, his eyes never leaving you.

you keep going, the dresses getting shorter and more... bold. when you step out in a sleek, silky black mini nightdress that barely reaches mid-thigh, jungkook groans, leaning back on his hands like he’s trying to restrain himself.

“you’re doing this on purpose,” he accuses, his voice low and rough, his eyes locked onto you like you’re the only thing that matters.

“what?” you ask innocently, moving a little, the skirt of your dress swishing just enough to tease him.

he watches you, his gaze following your every move, filled with love— and something much darker, much hungrier. “do a little twirl for me, baby,” he says, his voice dropping even lower.

you smirk and twirl, biting your lip when you see the way his jaw tightens.

“are you done yet?” he finally asks, his tone laced with desperation. “because if i don’t touch you soon, i might fucking lose my mind.”

you laugh softly, walking over to him and placing your hands on his shoulders. “one more, please?”

he grabs your waist in an instant, pulling you close until you’re straddling his lap, his warm hands settling on your hips. “fine,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your neck, “but only after you give me a kiss.”

you tilt your head down, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that’s soft but full of promise. after a few seconds, you pull back, grinning. “you’re gonna love this,” you whisper before slipping off his lap and disappearing into the closet again.

jungkook leans back on the bed, exhaling, trying to control himself. but when you don’t return right away, he shifts impatiently, standing up to pace the room.

when you finally walk out, he’s stops mid-step. he freezes, his eyes widening as they take you in.

you’re wearing the red lingerie set, the delicate lace barely there, with rope-like straps wrapping around your body. small red heart-shaped details covering the parts he really wants to see right now.

he stares at you, his lips parting slightly, his breath catching in his throat.

“oh.. fuck.” he mutters, his voice so quiet it’s almost a whisper.

you walk towards him slowly, swaying your hips just a little. “what do you think babe?”

he doesn’t answer right away, too busy drinking in the sight of you. when he finally speaks, his voice is hoarse. “i think i just died and went to heaven.”

you stop in front of him, chuckling softly as your fingers trailing up his chest. “i told you you’d love it.”

“you’re so fucking sexy,” he breathes, his hands coming up to rest on your hips, his grip on you firm as if he’s trying to stop himself from losing control. “c'mere”

you smile, letting him pull you closer.

“all this for me?” he asks, his voice low and raspy as his hands trail down to your ass, gripping the soft flesh in his large hands, pulling you even closer.

“all for you,” you whisper, your lips barely hovering over his, the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin.

that’s all it takes for him to snap. his lips crash into yours fiercely.

and this time, there’s no holding back.

a/n: ...wish i can show yall the lingerie pic but idk if it's allowed habahabaohw

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[luveline]

hi lovely, was wondering if you would be able to write any hotch x bombshell!reader ? maybe before they got together or any scenario/prompt you feel like!

take care of yourself and have a great day!!💝💝

The problem with Aaron Hotchner is that he’s too lovely for his own good. He might not think of himself that way. Not many, if any, of the office would agree. Morgan thinks Hotch is a hard-ass and Elle likes him in her way, but she rolls her eyes when he gets snippy, and Spencer… well, you think you and Spencer are probably on the same page. 

Hotch is kind, and a good man, and if he looks handsome when he’s frustrated that’s just how nature intended it to be. 

“Stop it.” 

“No.” 

“Stop.” Hotch levels you with a look over his computer. You’re surprised he knows how to use it, considering the semi-permanent callus on the pointer finger of his right hand. You must’ve watched him pen a thousand case files, consults and forms in a love letter to the old ways. 

He types slowly, but you’ve decided to keep your comment about it to yourself. “You’re looking at me like you know something I don’t,” he says. 

“Maybe I do.” 

“I’m sure you do. Stop bragging.” 

You lean on your elbow on the desk. He’s got a file open in front of him he’s transcribing for the sake of security. It details a case from a few months ago, and each line of the investigation is printed in Hotch’s neat script, lilting to the left over time. He frowns as he turns a page and realises it’s practically margin to margin with detail.

You want to offer to do it for him, but he’ll say no. You want to slide your foot up the leg of his slacks to see if he’ll blush as he did last Friday when you’d done the same thing, Gideon in the doorway none the wiser and somehow disapproving regardless. 

And Hotch, he’d laughed like a kid when the door closed, not turned on in the slightest but endeared by the guts it took you to try. Then he’d sort of enticed you around the desk somehow —you don’t remember the before of it, only slinking to his side with your heels tumbled on their sides under the desk still, his palms wide and open as you settled on a wooden corner. 

“I’m pretty good on the computer.” 

“I know,” Hotch says. “I authorised your computing and communications technology seminar myself.” 

“I was good at it before the mandatory company training garbage,” you say without heat, wondering how you might entice him over your side of the desk. Flirting aloud doesn’t work. Neither does footsie, and besides, what fun is that for you? But he’d looked at you in this strange way, none of his commanding sternness about him. A smile lingered on his lips; he can’t have known he was smiling at all, or it wouldn’t have shown. He’d left something honest there for you to see. 

Maybe it’s in your best interest to let down your own walls for a minute, too. 

“I could help,” you say. “Perhaps not from the same file, but I can get the laptop and start on the Maryland stuff. If you like.”

He looks at you steadily over the computer. His eyes seem lighter, the suspicious set to his mouth oddly close to smiling. “What do you want?” he teased quietly. 

“Nothing. Just figured it would make your life easier.”

“When have you ever made my life easier?” 

Your smile slips before you can stop it. Immediately, Hotch isn’t smiling either. The, “Oh, I didn’t mean it like that, honey,” almost doesn’t reach you, over that sharp second of hurt. 

“It’s fine.” You plaster on a smile again to save him the trouble. “I know you didn’t.” 

“No, really. I didn’t mean that.”

“Hotch,” you say, thumbing over his name slowly, “I know. We were teasing.” 

“Flirting,” he corrects. 

Your smile is real, then. “Flirting?” you ask. “That’s rather forward. Flirting might imply we like one another enough to, oh, I don’t know, help each other with our overflowing workloads?” 

He looks at you, all dark and him, steady, strong, all the stupid things that draw you in. You’re not just in it for his arms, however tightly corded they might seem when he’s pulling off his tie after a long day. “You do more than enough for me just sitting there,” he says, holding your gaze with a careful casualness that has your heart tripping in your chest. “Can you do that for me?” 

“Do what? Just sit here looking pretty?” 

His shoe touches your ankle. “Exactly,” he says quietly. “Just sit there exactly as you are. I promise I don’t need anything else from you.” 

Warmed from the inside out, you sit back in your chair. Grinning like a fool. “Why didn’t you just say that?” you ask. Any chance at sounding casual is lost when your voice comes out gossamer thin. 

He looks you over appraisingly. “See?” he says, turning back to his case file. “Thank you, honey. You’re a big help.” 

You swing one leg over the other to get comfortable, crossing your arms over your stomach smugly. “I know.” 

[seraphicloves]

𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝟏𝟔𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐞

⊱✿⊰ summary: headcanons with overblot gang and a flirtatious s/o

⊱✿⊰ warnings: flirting, pick up lines, idia explodes /j, lwk cringe, gender neutral reader, reader could be yuu or anyone really, requested

⊱✿⊰ notes: fire request gang, hope this is to your standards :) (also i need more twst requests & friends. nobody seems to wanna be mutuals 😓 prolly my fault tho im ngl)

riddle rosehearts:

❀ he is barely used to having romantic relations, so it is hard for him to process that you're so...vocally affectionate. he's used to zero affection, even with his own way of showing love to be reserved. so he can be surprised by your brazen behavior

❀ you turn his face red easily with a sultry tone and a well placed glance to his lips. somebody he cares about romantically, saying those sort of things? riddle is sure his face is on fire and his heart is pounding loud enough for rsa to hear

❀ everybody lwk makes fun of him for getting flustered so easily. even your cringy pick up lines make him act like you dropped a knee and proposed.

❀ he loves how flirtatious you are, even if it makes him totally shy. he admires it in a way, how you're so bold and confident. you're unafraid of your desires, something riddle wished he could relate to.

leona kingscholar

❀ he is also a flirt, but in like a lazy way yk? he doesn't put effort into flirtation, no pickup lines or properly romantic lines. he just gives you a sexy smirk, and says something sweet while being totally casual

❀ its hard to fluster him, at least outwardly. the most you'll get out is a slight flush and a laugh if you say something especially flirty. however internally, he is totally freaking out and like so happy.

❀ if you say a dumb pickup line, he will call it dumb. and without any sort of shame or feeling bad. he calls it like it is.

"are you my homework? because i am gonna do you on the table all night long."

he gives you the -_- and says, "where did you see that line? how to make your boyfriend cringe?"

❀ he is also incredibly territorial so he will get jealous if you flirt with someone else, even if unintentionally. he will wrap an arm around your waist, pulling you flush aganist him. making sure everybody knows who gets you in their bed every night.

azul ashengrotto

❀ he is also part of the flustered gang, since he is typically very professional behaving. he is almost incapable of saying something flirty, despite how usually charismatic he might seem.

❀ i feel like he would try to flirt back, thinking like its your way of showing love so he wants to do it as well. he'd search up pick up lines and try them out on you:

"are you my library card? because im always checking you out." (yes it is as cringy as it seems.)

❀ he might get a little jealous if you start flirting (unintentionally) with someone else, mostly because he has rather terrible self esteem. azul is insecure in himself, often wondering if you would be better with somebody else. so be sure to reassure him!

❀ he might also use your flirty nature for his business pursuits. get you to flirt with some customers,especially with your beauty, and he is sure to get some more profit. also he might feel a little jealous, he knows you are helping with the monstro lounge so its okay!

jamil viper

❀ i feel like he could also be very flirtatious if he was feeling up for it. jamil can be silver tongued, but its really only when he isn't too exhausted from kalim's ridiculous behavior. so yeah, he could give you a run for your money if he wanted to.

❀ he's probably not going to get jealous, mainly because he knows who you go to at the end of the day. if you are his s/o, he has enough faith that you would not leave him on a whim so mild flirting doesn't bother him.

❀ jamil mostly flirts through words of praise. he is very full of praise and compliments, which normally would sound like total bullshit but he makes it sound sincere enough your toes curl. he also just has a lovely voice, deep and sultry with that slight curl that makes your heart race. he would be perfect for reading audio books.

❀ he gets amused by your flirty behavior, with your affection and words. he especially loves hearing you compliment him, filling him with a delicious sense of pride. jamil has an ego, which he loves to get bigger because of you

vil schoenheit

❀ he is going to be a master flirt. he knows how to make somebody blush with a few calculated moves. he's an actor and he's very smart, of course he knows how to flirt. he probably flirts more than you, it might be so ingrained in him that he flirts unintentionally.

❀ he doesn't get jealous simply because he also acts similarly. he understands it is a part of your personality and you wouldn't be unfaithful with him. he sort of sees it as the public's you, and he gets to have the real you. even if flirting is still in your nature, he gets to see past the polite smiles and small talk.

❀ he might even give you tips on how to better seduce the people around you. he doesn't mean to be critical, he just wants you to be the very best version of yourself. so he (very gently) shows you ways to be more sultry and romantic, to make everybody weak in the knees. if he was particularly bored, he might even silently rate your performance.

❀ he is probably the best person to be more flirtatious around. he is able to let your personality shine free without any sort of complications.

idia shroud

❀ if vil is the best, idia might be the worst. when he gets flustered, he closes in and runs away. so you probably have to chase him down whenever you say something particularly swoonworthy.

"stop! i'm overloading, i need a break to cool down!"

"all i did was hug your arm and kiss you!"

❀ he might also call your flirting "cringe" even if its not. like, he totally pretends like he thinks being all flirty and PDA is so not cool (but inside he squeals like a little girl). idia can't help it, he's programmed to reject things that make him nervous!

❀ okay i think after a while of dating him, and he gets more comfortable around you (and more comfortable being flustered around you) he might try out a line or two. but instead of something random like azul, he makes them focused to your interests. like whatever fandoms you are in, he finds (or makes) pick up lines related to it.

❀ i think idia would play more otome games just to practice flirting so he can try to get on the same level as you. he wants to be as confident and collected as you, so what better way than to practice digitally? he doesn't hide the fact he is playing otome games, he just might hide the fact its so he can learn to make you blush.

malleus draconia

❀ he rarely even picks up on your flirty behavior. like he knows how it makes him feel but he assumes that is how everybody behaves when you say stuff. his heart racing? oh yeah thats the usual sort of thing when [name] is around. he doesn't fully understand the whole intention behind it.

❀ yeah...i'm gonna say you might need to rein in flirting with other people. malleus will either get mad jealous or he will get sad, thinking you are trying to be unfaithful. so reassure him and try to keep those bedroom eyes away from anybody but your man.

❀ he is also flirty in the sense of how wholeheartedly romantic he is. bro puts his whole malleussy into loving you. he follows you around like a lost puppy, eyes constantly shining with pure adoration. you consume him entirely and he is unafraid of letting the world know.

❀ malleus has probably said some crazily romantic things without even realizing it wasn't the norm. he has said he will marry you, he has compared your beauty to the moon shining over the ocean. he becomes a poet when it comes to loving you.

lori © 2024. please don't copy, modify, or do anything weird with my writing! i like reblogs and comments but please be kind as this was my writing.

[vivwritesfics]

Drive Me Crazy

Chapter Eleven

None of you are used to pack dynamics. Unlike then, it made you near feral. There's nothing more they want than to build you back up.

Lestappen X Reader

Series masterlist

Charles wasn't jealous the first time you spoke to Max. But he had been waiting patiently for his turn. You were expressive, more now that you didn't have a muzzle. Watching you grow, come out of your shell, had been amazing. You were smiling at your fellow drivers, making an effort. 

All Charles wanted from you after that was to speak. He wasn't going to push you. That was the absolute last thing he wanted. He could picture it now, pushing you too far and having you retreat into yourself. 

Inviting you to Monaco wasn't about getting you to speak. It had been a bad race, and you needed this. At least, he thought you did. You had been having fun on the jet, giggling against Max's side as he got a little drunk. 

That was why Charles had driven the three of you back to their building. Dropping your handler off at some random hotel in Monaco (Charles was paying for the room) was the absolute highlight of his day. 

You willingly went wherever they took you. Trust Max and Charles had earned. As soon as you followed Charles inside, your eyes were wide with wonder as you took everything in. You missed the way he pulled Max close for the first time in days and kissed him, licking the taste of his early morning Red Bull from his lips. Disgusting stuff, but Charles would happily taste it from Max. 

When he started playing the piano, you began to dance. Charles watched your outline in the reflection of the polished wood. It was as if you didn't even know you were doing it, swaying gently. He couldn't see the way your eyes were beginning to fall shut, letting the music take hold. 

But then Max shouted. "Shut up, Charlie!" 

And Charles obeyed, stopping his playing. You stopped too, the look of disappointment on your features not going unnoticed. Charles didn't expect you to surge forward, though. He didn't expect you to join him by the piano, looking ready to play. 

"I liked it." 

Three little words. The three sweetest words Charles had ever heard. 

You wanted him to play more, so he did. His fingers began dancing across the keys, a tune filling his Monaco apartment. 

You stood from the bench and let yourself dance. No small movements, doing whatever your body told you. You moved to the music, enjoying every moment of it.

Leaving his crushed can of red bull on the counter, Max strode towards you. He took your hand, interrupting your dancing, and moved you around. He spun you and twirled you and everything else, moving with you. 

You were far more elegant than her, your every movement natural compared to his. This was what you were meant to he doing, Charles realised. 

He played until you stopped dancing, until you sat down, chest rising and falling and your arm resting on your stomach. Max's smile was wide as he sat beside you, arm around the back of the sofa. "Happy?" He asked a little breathlessly. 

You nodded, unable to stop yourself from moving closer. That was so much fun, and you didn't know how to express it. Wrapping your arms around him, you laid your head on his chest and looked up into his pretty eyes.

Why couldn't a team have three drivers? You, Max and Charles in the same garage, spending free moments before racing together. Or Max and Charles on the same team while you watched the both of them. Yeah, that felt right. Not part of the action, but able to watch it. 

Who would you be, though? You wouldn't be a driver, you'd be something else entirely. You weren't sure what, but you would be happy. 

Charles watched the two of you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, content to just sit there. You didn't steal a kiss, didn't do anything but lay against him. 

A groan left Max's lips as he looked towards the clock. "I should head to my place," he muttered, sounding as if he didn't really want to leave. 

You whined, your hands slipping down to his chest. You held his shirt, looking moments away from climbing into his lap. "Sorry, Birdy," he whispered and pouted at you. "But I gotta get on stream." But then he smiled and you realised he was mocking you. He wasn't being nasty, you knew immediately. 

Charles stood up. He walked across the room and laid his warm hand on your shoulder. "Come on, Birdy Girl," he said and pulled you to his feet. "We can walk him to the door." 

You trudged through the apartment, following Max and Charles to the door. He didn't have to come here, you reminded yourself. He did this to spend time with you and Charles. 

"Should we take our girl out tomorrow?" Charles asked as he stood behind you, both hands on your shoulders. 

They both looked down at you, as if waiting for you to say something. You didn't have to, you knew. This whole talking thing would take some getting used to. 

Finally, Charles looked away from you. He released a hum and Max met his gaze. 

For a moment, they stared at each other. Could they take it any further with you between them. There was no telling how you would react, pressed between them while...

But what if your reaction wasn't bad? What if you liked it?

Charles made the first move. He leaned over you and pressed a kiss to Max's lips. It was short and sweet and gentle, but whine was still pulled from your lips. 

Max grinned as he looked down at you. "You want some, Birdy?" He asked. 

Swallowing, you nodded. 

That was the first time you kissed Max Verstappen. He moved slowly, almost as if you were a spooked animal. His blue eyes searched your face, looking for any reason to stop. But your eyes were pleading, desperate.

His hands cradled your face, held your cheeks. You didn't bite him, didn't make any move like you felt threatened. He leaned in and you held your breath. 

Close enough to touch, but still holding back. "You ready, Birdy?" He whispered and you nodded. 

He kissed you, pressed his freckled lips against your own. A squeak left your lips, entire body tensing. You didn't know what to do, how to move with him. But Max was slow and gentle, every movement encouraging you. 

When you finally kissed back, his whole world lit up. 

He pulled away and you chased after him, already missing the feeling of his lips against your own. "Good Birdy," he whispered and let go of you. 

Your first kiss and it was with Max Verstappen.

You whimpered at the loss of contact, but Charles pulled you into his side. "Don't worry, Birdy Girl," he whispered and kissed the top of your head. "We'll see him tomorrow." 

Max picked up his bags. He started towards the door, leaving the two of you behind. 

"No!" 

You ran forward and wrapped your arms around him. "You can't go," you whispered, pressing your forehead against his back. You squeezed your arms around him, Max's fingers resting over yours. 

A sigh left Charles's lips. He wasn't annoyed, not in the slightest. You were damn adorable, with no control over your emotions. Too sweet for your own good. 

"Would you like to stay the night, Max?”

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