#don’t think they took each other out but

[darkmatilda]

𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: spencer needs your help examining a crucial piece of evidence...but the moment he sees you, his mind goes blah blah blah...proper name, place name, backstory stuff...

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x diva!chemist! female reader, same reader as in pick your poison but you don’t need to read that first—there aren’t any major references, suggestion that the reader engages in casual hook ups, reader has a belly button piercing and a described outfit, spencer's pov only

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 2k

𝐚/𝐧: requested by @trulymadlydarling it was slowly gathering dust in my inbox 😭 sorry!

"I think the threshold of my lab isn't exactly the best place for camping."

A woman's silhouette cast a shadow over Spencer as she appeared right above him in the dimly lit hallway.

Spencer sighed in frustration and hauled himself to his feet. As he brushed off his pants, he kept his eyes off the woman in front of him.

"Well, I didn't think you'd make me wait fifty-eight—"

"Oh, just say the hour. Is rounding numbers really that hard for you?" she scoffed, her voice carrying a trace of genuine curiosity. She swiped her access card, unlocking the door to the lab. With her back turned to him, he took in her appearance—an oversized fur coat draped over her shoulders, a designer handbag hanging from one arm. His gaze drifted downward, and to his surprise, he noticed…pajama pants and slippers?

"You should be grateful I even bothered to show up at this hour," she added.

"This is really important," Spencer replied as she led him inside.

She moved through the space with effortless familiarity, heading straight for the light switch. Well, this was her domain, after all—the place where she spent most of her days.

"I don't care," she replied. "Unless you've found proof that Marilyn Monroe was the Zodiac Killer all along—then, well, I care a little. Honestly, you have no idea how much you owe me for showing up..."

He rolled his eyes.

"Should I be thanking you on my knees, or...?"

"I could have been busy. I could have been out with the girls at a club. I could have been having the night of my life..."

"I get it, you made a huge sacrifice answering my request, but can you now—"

"I could have been in bed already. My own. Or not my own," she glanced at him over her shoulder. "Though in that case, I wouldn’t have picked up."

Spencer simply sighed. By now, he was used to it—the way most of their conversations followed the same pattern. How she always set the pace, steering the direction as she pleased. How she sometimes deliberately ignored his words and didn’t care if it made her seem rude. How, in general, she didn’t care what impression she left on others.

He had witnessed it countless times, found it irritating every single time, and yet—every single time—he kept the conversation going. Funny.

She switched on only one of the lights, leaving the room bathed in a soft twilight. Her handbag landed on the long counter beside one of the microscopes, and she tossed her fur coat next to it, completely unconcerned about knocking something over.

Sometimes, he watched her with quiet fascination—the effortless confidence in her movements—and wondered if she had ever, even once, smacked her hip against a doorframe. Or stubbed her toe on a cabinet. Those small, mundane humiliations and everyday mishaps simply didn’t seem to fit with who she was.

He tightened his grip on the plastic bag he had brought with him, the one containing something that needed to be examined. The team didn’t know about it yet.

The thought, the theory, had quite literally yanked him out of sleep. He couldn’t function without checking this lead immediately. But he knew that if he went through the lab, he’d have to wait until morning for the results…so he decided to ask for a friendly favor.

Okay friendly was a big word.

They had known each other for a few months, worked together on several cases, gone on a date, slept together.

Not necessarily in that order.

He was just about to open his mouth, say something, hand her the bag… when, for the first time, he actually saw her in better light than the dim glow—or rather, lack of it—in the hallway. Against his own will, his gaze started its journey over her.

From the slippers on her feet, up the loose pajama pants that ended just below the piercing in her navel, the black camisole with thin straps, to her face—completely free of makeup.

Until now, he had only seen her in two versions. One was her usual, elegant work attire. The other was her evening look—form-fitting, designed to turn heads and keep them there.

On second thought, there was also a third version. Without clothes.

But he had never seen her like this. Casual, comfortable, dressed for nothing more than wandering the walls of her own apartment.

She lifted her arms to tie her hair into a ponytail, and her shirt rode up slightly.

“If my piercing fascinates you that much, I can give you my piercer’s number,” she offered dryly, a fleeting smirk on her lips as she caught his stare. He immediately snapped his gaze back to her face, cursing internally when he realized he probably looked like he had been caught staring. Which, of course, he hadn’t been. “Excellent work. Full professionalism. Experienced hands…”

"I need you to check this stain," he interrupted, raising the bag.

They had been talking too much, and he really needed to know if his suspicions were correct.

She stepped closer to take the bag from him.

“Is this a crucial piece of evidence, or can I touch it?”

“You can touch it…”

She stopped just a step away, shifting her weight onto one hip and tilting her head to get a better look.Spencer instinctively straightened, feeling a strange tension along his spine.Earlier, he had been looking at what she was wearing. Now, what caught his attention was how she looked.

There’s a certain kind of beauty you never quite get used to, no matter how often you see it. The kind that, every time, knocks the air from your lungs for just a second—that fleeting disbelief that someone like this actually walks the earth.

She had it. She radiated it.

And she was just a step away.

She took the garment out of the bag. It was a red turtleneck sweater. She lifted it higher toward the light, furrowing her brow as she examined the stain.

Spencer’s gaze fell on her beautiful face, her eyes shimmering slightly, her lower lip slightly pursed in thought.

Suddenly, she scoffed, snapping him back to reality.

"Mystery solved, and I didn’t even need a microscope," she said, shoving the sweater back into his hands. As he took it, his fingers brushed against hers, catching him slightly off guard. "It’s foundation. I’d recognize that stain anywhere. So, hooray, happy to help, no need to put me in the case report, have a good night, and see you—"

He grabbed her wrist before she could step away, stopping her in place.

"This isn’t a joke," he said, his voice dropping, tinged with sudden irritation.She raised an eyebrow at both his tone and the way he—unintentionally—closed the distance between them. As usual, she looked him straight in the eyes, and as usual, it was hard not to be drawn in. But he tried, because this case was really consuming his thoughts. "Listen, I called you because I need someone to actually test it. Not just glance at it. It'll only take a moment, and then you can go back to crawling into bed with whoever you want. Can you do that?"

The second-to-last sentence made her expression shift slightly.

For a moment, they stood there, unwavering, eyes locked without so much as a blink. Then, the corners of her lips tugged upward—just barely. But it felt more like a forced gesture, an attempt to maintain her carefully practiced expression, rather than a sign of genuine amusement.

"Alright," she replied softly. Not to be mistaken for shyly. There was nothing shy about her, a fact he was reminded of constantly.

"I’ll test it, since it matters so much to you. And then I’m going back to bed." A slow blink before she yanked the sweater from his hands. "With whoever I want."

Why did swallowing suddenly stop being an automatic reflex and turn into something he had to consciously work through?

"That’s great," he said shortly, dryly. He could feel himself slipping into the trap again, letting her toy with him. "Have fun."

"I will."

With that simple assurance, she walked away, and the very particles of air around him seemed to loosen, finally allowing him to breathe again. He turned after her instinctively, the way a swivel chair spins when someone sets it in motion.

She crossed the lab table and leaned over an empty workstation—empty, like all the others. The entire width of the counter separated them now, along with the return of cool detachment to her face. Slowly, Spencer rested his hands on the smooth surface, watching as she got to work. Watching as her hair bounced slightly with the shift in position. Watching as her jaw tensed in concentration. Watching as she leaned over the workstation slightly.

"So," she began flatly, not pausing her work or even looking at him.

Spencer gave his head a small shake, realizing that this time, he really had been staring. At least she hadn’t seen it.

"What exactly am I testing?"

His gaze drifted to her again.

"Something related to the case."

"Wow, I never would've guessed."

He was too distracted to mentally slap himself for how pathetic he was. 

"Uh, it’s not exactly groundbreaking," he began.

He could focus—he just had to try hard enough. He just had to clear the lingering trace of her scent from when she’d stood so close. Had to shake off the echo of her words. With whoever I want, she had said. The more he thought about it, the more accurate it seemed. He firmly believed she could have whoever she wanted. With that confidence. With that face. With that body…

"That’s why I’m checking it after hours. Just, you know…backstory stuff…"

A sound escaped her lips—somewhere between a scoff of disbelief and a startled laugh. She looked at him—no, she pinned him with her gaze.

"Backstory stuff?" she repeated, her lips curling into a smile. Not even a mocking one anymore. She was genuinely amused. "Did you, Doctor Spencer Reid, when asked what the evidence pertains to, actually respond with backstory stuff…?"

“No, I…I mean…”

“Oh God, it’s a good thing they don’t put you in front of cameras. Imagine you, at a press conference. Just casually dropping backstory stuff on national television…”

“I can handle myself in front of cameras,” he clarified, feeling an odd warmth creep up the back of his neck. “But there aren’t any here. And besides, I didn’t realize you wanted me to recite the entire case file from memory…”

“That won’t be necessary,” she said with another amused snort. “Backstory stuff is actually a surprisingly accurate term. You know, very professional.”

He rolled his eyes, feigning irritation, though what he really felt was more akin to embarrassment.

“Speaking of professionalism, maybe you could get back to work?” he suggested.

“I don’t have to,” she replied, flashing him a sweet smile. “I already checked everything. And I was wrong. It’s not foundation—it’s nitroglycerin.”

Spencer’s jaw practically hit the floor.

For the first time since stepping into the lab, his mind was running at full capacity.

"Nitroglycerin? Are you sure?"

"Well, I don’t get these things wrong," she said, almost offended.

"Nitroglycerin," he repeated in a whisper.

Oh, for heaven’s sake. Suddenly, everything made sense.

She leaned her elbows on the table, watching him with interest.

He wanted to kiss her.

No—he did not—

"Thank you," he blurted out, her words becoming background noise as his thoughts raced. "Thank you for coming. This…this really helps. I have to tell the team—"

He turned toward the door, dazed by the realization.

Something stopped him.

"Spencer," she called gently.

She didn’t seem angry that he was leaving so abruptly. If anything, there was a certain soft glint in her eyes, a quiet fascination with his sudden revelation. Standing in the doorway, he looked at her one last time, feeling himself freeze in place again. He said nothing, sensing that she wanted to say something instead.

She tilted her head slightly.

"You owe me a favor," she said.

There was something about the way she said it—something that sent a slow, deliberate shiver down his spine. Not even a shiver. More like a careful march of cold fingertips down his vertebrae.

So, naturally, he did what any grown man with an IQ of 187 would do.

He parted his lips slightly and nodded.

[thewellofastarael]

The original website has shut down, so here's the original article, published September 10 2015:

"What happens when several thousand distinguished physicists, researchers, and students descend on the nation’s gambling capital for a conference? The answer is "a bad week for the casino"—but you'd never guess why.

The year was 1986, and the American Physical Society’s annual April meeting was slated to be held in San Diego. But when scheduling conflicts caused the hotel arrangements to fall through just a few months before, the conference's organizers were left scrambling to find an alternative destination that could accommodate the crowd—and ended up settling on Las Vegas's MGM grand.

It was an unmitigated disaster for the Grand. Financially, it was the worst week they’d ever had. After the conference was over, APS was politely asked never to return—not just by the MGM Grand, but by the entire city of Las Vegas.

Everyone knows that it's a near-impossibility to beat a casino's odds on a large scale. Lucky individuals' wins are always subsidized by the unlucky masses, and everyone's luck runs out eventually. So what happened? Maybe you’ve seen 21, and you’re picturing teams of sleek geeks using elaborate signaling systems and network analysis to gain a statistical edge over the house in blackjack. That’s been done in real life, but it wasn’t what happened at this meeting.

When I first heard this story (it's practically office folklore at APS), I immediately remembered a documentary I’d seen a while back, where some science-minded gamblers proved that a roulette wheel could reliably be beaten with a timer and a pocket computer…but guess again—they didn’t play roulette, either.

Some physicists have a knack for poker—the quick analytical thinking that lends itself to success in the classroom can translate well to a competitive card game: a Dutch theoretician took home a gold bracelet in the 2010 World Series of Poker. Did a group of the April '86 attendees somehow devise an optimized betting strategy, analyzing risks and payoffs, assigning weights, hedging their bets to come out in the black? Still no—or at least not en masse.

Instead, it turns out that the physicists found the one move guaranteed to provide an edge when the odds are stacked against you: You just don’t play.

See, usually when an organization announces that it's holding a big conference in a certain region, it triggers a bidding war among that area's hotels, and each tries to undersell the others and secure the group's contract to fill up as many rooms as possible. This goes double in a gambling destination like Las Vegas, where hotels have casinos built-in; the Grand doesn't just collect on room charges, it also gets a good portion of however much each guest was planning on taking to the tables. This is so central to the business model of casino hotels that they'll often give rates much lower than what a non-casino hotel could afford to offer, under the assumption that they'll recoup at the tables—it's the same reason you can often find free alcohol and startlingly nice food at all-you-can-eat casino buffets.

So were these physicists just too busy sharing their science, seeing presentations and posters, and catching up on homework to find time for the tables? That's one possibility. The fact that a significant portion of the attendees were broke graduate students probably didn't help matters. On top of that, all the attendees had to have known enough about probability and statistics to recognize the "Monte Carlo* fallacy" at work: When a roulette wheel comes up black ten times in a row, it doesn't make the ball any more or less likely to land in a red slot the next time.

Whatever the case may have been, the week of the '86 APS April meeting found the gaming floor almost completely empty, leaving the casino with its record-low take; in the (probably apocryphal) words of one casino waitress: "They each brought one shirt and a ten-dollar bill, and changed neither."

By staying at a gambling hotel but obstinately refusing to gamble, everyone who booked their reservation with the group effectively had their stay subsidized by guests who were lured in by the chances of a big win—which is probably why Las Vegas hotels never bid on APS conference contracts anymore. The MGM Grand learned a lesson the hard way that week: Physicists do not play dice."

—Stephen Skolnick

Fun fact: after the American Physical Society held their 1986 annual meeting at the MGM Grand, the entire city of Las Vegas politely asked APS to never, ever come back.

Was it because the physicists were super-smart MIT-blackjack-team forerunners who took the casino for everything it was worth? Actually, the complete opposite: they didn’t gamble. At all. After all, they knew their statistics. Most of them were broke grad students who had no intention of throwing away their stipends on fundamental misunderstandings of Poisson processes. As a result the casino gaming floor was dead. Sometimes the winning move really is not to play.

[carolmunson]

LGDW!eddie x you - smutty. happy belated v-day.

He likes it so much when you’re on top. He feels stupid about it. Mind wandering every now and again and his mouth hangs open while he thinks about it. You just take him. His mind liquifies, turning into nothing but yesyesyesyesyesyesyes. Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease.

You got home from Valentine’s dinner and he set up the apartment to look like a five star hotel (as much as you can make a new one bedroom into a five star hotel on his salary). Rose petals on the ground, bouquet in the bed.

You didn’t make it to the bed. You took off your coat and shoved him onto the couch, straddling him in your heels and then all he could think about was you naked with heels and he yesyesyesyesyesyesyes.

You pull his hair and he whines, trying to steady your hips while they push against the fabric of his slacks. He doesn’t know why he tries to steady them, maybe he just doesn’t wanna come too quick. But then you start making those sounds while you wind against him, erection pressing between your legs — and then it’s just not fair of him to try and control your speed. Not now. Not while you’re starting to feel good.

He slides down slightly so you can really feel it, pushing his hips up to savor the friction. He bites his lip between kisses, eyes heavy lidded, “Baby, please…”

“What?” You coo back, he tenses his calves to try and hold back a moan.

“Let me, let me take you to my room,” he stammers out. You grin and it’s half sexy, half evil — his heart thunders, he knows that look. He loves that look.

“But we’re having so much fun out here,” you say back, head dipping to kiss his neck, tongue trailing over his jugular back down to just under his jaw. He knows what you’re gonna do and he almost wants to let out a ‘no’ but not because he doesn’t want it — he just doesn’t wanna get closer to coming before you can make it to bed.

Your teeth graze over the skin and his eyes roll.

“Doll, don’t — I’m gonna..uhn..” it comes out more like a whimper than a moan when your canines press down on his neck. Nipping just hard enough that it gives him a jolt of a sting; his cock twitches, ringed fingers gripping your hips with new vigor. His hips push up again, grinding back against you.

So close to his ear he hears it, that slight falter, a needy sigh escaping you before you kiss under his ear. Your nose grazes the shell and he lets out another soft moan, taken now by the rhythm of your hips in tandem. He could come just like this, dry humping in the ambient glow of the living room. But he has other plans, lips back on each others, he takes your lower lip between his teeth before letting it go. A challenge to your hand in his hair and the other on his jaw — guiding him while he kisses.

Your eyes catch, devilish, you both smirk. Fingers let go of one of your hips and trail beneath your dress, pushing between the fat of your thighs where they meet. Warmth engulfs him, knowing what’s next when he trails the pad of his finger over your panties before pulling them to the side.

“So wet,” he mumbles against your lips, your hand just below his neck flexes, nails pushing into his skin, in charge to needy. He pushes in, just a test, feeling you envelope him — clenching down almost immediately. Yesyesyesyesyesyesyes.

You reach for his belt while he starts a rhythm between your legs. Your hips are free now, bouncing back against the talent in his wrist, feeling another finger dip itself in to stretch you out.

He shimmies himself out of his pants and briefs, not fully getting up while he keeps you entertained — the glassy glaze in your eyes making him determined to get you there on the couch before he can finally coax you to the bedroom. Those rose petals were not going to waste the way Tatianna said they would. They were not cheesy.

Exposed, he reaches down with his free hand to stroke himself while his lips stay on yours. Fingertips deftly rubbing at your clit now. You shudder and huff and God you keep making all those sounds, you’re gonna drive him crazy.

You move out of his touch, adjusting to start on the ride of your life while you hold onto his shoulders.

“Woah, woah, what’s up?” He asks, brown eyes shining while he looks up at you.

“Look, I’m gonna sit on it or suck it,” you respond matter of factly, “That dick is gonna be inside me either way. Your choice.”

“Ex..excuse me?” he breathes out, face a surprised and bashful grin. He’s never heard you so direct before and he’s now so hard he might need medical attention. You both need to split a bottle of Cabernet more often if this is how you get after.

“Do you want me to repeat it slower for you, Ed?” you ask back, “Is that what you need?”

“Jeeesus,” he hisses back, curls cushioning the back of his head while it falls back against the back wall of the couch, “You gotta chill.”

“You don’t like when I’m mean?” you tease, one of your nails trailing from his cheek down his neck. He shuts his eyes tight and then relaxes them.

“I love when you’re mean,” he sighs, “God, I love when you’re mean.”

“You want me to be mean to you in your bedroom?” you ask in his ear, pressing a still glossy kiss to his cheek.

“Yeah, I decorated it,” he says bashfully, “Since it’s our first Valentine’s, y’know?”

“Okay, whatever you want,” you nod back at him. He palms your cheek, leaning in to give you a kiss that’s more loving than lustful.

“I have a gift in there for you,” he says, “I know we didn’t really like — say if we were doing gifts, but — I wanted to.”

“That’s sweet,” you say back, getting up off of his lap. He haphazardly pulls his pants back up before following suit, knowing they’ll just be off again in a couple minutes.

“I got you a little something, too,” you offer, making your way down the hall.

“Yeah? Where is it?” he asks, looking back at your purse and then at you. You look over your shoulder with a glint in your eye — half evil, half sexy.

“It’s under the dress,” you shrug.

Yesyesyesyesyesyesyes. Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease.

[beloveds-embrace]

will take quite anything you’ve got from the designationless au bc holy shit is it giving me brainworms in the best way possible

<333

The first few weeks with the 141 were… strange. Moreso for them, truthfully.

Not bad- just strange.

You could tell they weren’t sure what to make of you at first.

They were used to reading each other without words- the shift of a scent, the pull of an instinct, the push and pull of social cues as natural as breathing. But you were an anomaly. No scent to catch onto, no designation to categorize you, no instincts that guided your actions.

You could feel it in the way they watched you. Not with suspicion, but with an unspoken wariness, as if they were trying to solve a puzzle without all the pieces. Honestly, it was still much better than the way a lot of other units treated you.

John was the first to adjust. He treated you no differently than any other soldier nor did he single you out, though there was a quiet sort of patience in the way he spoke to you, as if giving you space to find your place. You caught him watching you sometimes, thoughtful, assessing- but whatever thoughts he had, he never voiced them, and you didn’t feel like he was thinking badly of you.

Ghost… was harder to read. He was distant but you could feel the hesitance in the way he kept a careful distance at first, as if unsure how to act around you. He wasn’t standoffish, just… cautious. It took a while before his posture around you eased, before he stopped looking like he was waiting for something from you that would never come.

Soap tested it the first week by standing too close, brushing your arm as he leaned over to look at your tablet, waiting for any possible reaction.

Nothing.

No subconscious shift in posture, no inhaling of his scent, no reaction at all. You only glanced at him for a moment before turning back to your screen, as if you hadn’t even noticed he was trying to get a reaction out of you.

He blinked. “You always this quiet?”

You didn’t look up. “You always this chatty?”

Soap, again, was also the first to push past it. “Y’know, it’s a bit unfair,” he teased one evening, nudging you with his elbow as he sat down beside you. You knew the reet of the team could hear since they were also around. “Cannae scent when you’re in a mood. Gotta actually ask how you’re feelin’ like a proper conversation.”

You had huffed a laugh, tense shoulders relaxing. “Guess you’ll just have to deal with it.”

“Guess so,” he agreed so easily you were left blinking at him in open surprise. “Gotta say, makes you good at poker. Cannae bluff with your scent.”

Gaz had been the one to struggle the most. Not because he didn’t like you, but because, as an omega, scent and instincts were so deeply ingrained in how he interacted with the world. He was tactile, expressive, used to weaving himself into the unit with ease. But with you-

With you, there was nothing to weave into.

You weren’t rejecting him, but you weren’t responding the way he expected either. No subtle scent shifts, no automatic lean into comfort, no instinctual give and take. Just… you.

Gaz made the mistake of offering his jacket one evening when the air grew cold. You accepted it with a nod, but when he sat beside you, waiting for that quiet inhale- the subtle, unconscious gesture of taking in a packmate’s scent- he realized it wasn’t coming.

“You don’t… smell people, do you?” he asked, half-joking.

You glanced at him, brow slightly furrowed, and shook your head. “Not really.”

The weight of it settled between them.

Another time, he tried to offer comfort- a hand on your shoulder, a scent meant to soothe- and got nothing in return, he had hesitated, clearly unsure of what to do.

You had seen the flash of confusion on his face, the way he had almost pulled back.

So you had done the only thing you could. You reached up and patted his hand, offering a small smile. “I don’t really… get it. But I don’t mind.”

Gaz had studied you for a moment, then exhaled a quiet laugh. “Alright,” he had murmured, giving your shoulder a squeeze before letting go. “We’ll figure it out.”

And they did.

It took time, but eventually, they stopped hesitating.

John still gave orders with the same confidence, Ghost stopped treating you like an unknown variable, and Soap- well, he was always himself.

Gaz, despite everything, still fussed.

It wasn’t the same as what he did with the others- there was no instinctual scenting, no designation-motivated soothing. But he still checked in, still sat beside you during downtime, still pestered you when he thought you were overworking yourself.

You were different. They didn’t fully understand it, but it didn’t matter because by then?

You were one of them.

[ariahmichelle]

Fake It Till You Feel It- Part 3

Rafe Cameron x Reader Series

Link to Series Masterlist Here

Summary: You see your ex with a new girl wrapped around him after he told you “wasn’t ready for a relationship” after you had slowly started to fall for him. The betrayal stings. Rafe Cameron is dealing with his own issue—Amelia, a girl who refuses to take the hint that he’s not interested. One night you impulsively pretend to be Rafe’s girlfriend to get her to back off. To your surprise, it works. You also notice Alex looking pissed. This starts to become an unspoken routine between you when either Alex or Amelia are around. Simple right? However, longer this goes on, the more the lines blur between what’s real and what’s not.

Part 3- The Rescue Mission

••••••••••••••••••••• ••••••••••••••••••••••

It had been a slow, uneventful day—exactly what you’d wanted. You had spent the morning running errands, picking up a few things from town before finally making it home. Now, curled up on the couch, half-watching a show while scrolling on your phone, you were perfectly content to do nothing for the rest of the afternoon.

Then your phone buzzed.

Rafe: You busy?

You frowned, already suspicious.

You: I might be. Why?

Rafe: Because I need saving.

You snorted, shaking your head.

You: Let me guess… Amelia?

Rafe: What do you think?

You sighed, debating for a moment. Maybe it would be good for him to deal with her himself for once. But you also knew how persistent Amelia could be.

You: Sounds like a you problem, Cameron.

Rafe: Come on. Be a team player.

You: …How bad is it?

Rafe: Bad enough to text you :(

Before you could dwell on it too much, your mom walked into the room, grabbing her purse. “I’m heading out for a bit. Need a ride anywhere?”

“Actually, yeah,” you said, already slipping on your shoes.

——

When you arrived at the country club, you expected to find Rafe surrounded by Topper, Kelce, and maybe a few other guys, with Amelia clinging to him like always.

But instead, he was standing outside, alone.

You narrowed your eyes as you approached. “If you made me come all this way for nothing, you’re dead.”

Rafe exhaled, shaking his head. “Trust me, I wouldn’t have called you unless I had no other option.”

“That bad?”

He ran a hand down his face. “Worse.”

You crossed your arms, waiting.

“I was having lunch with my family,” he started, “and Amelia just invited herself over, telling my dad, Rose, Sarah, and Wheezie that she and I have been getting to know each other.” He grimaced. “She’s acting like we’ve been seeing each other, and I told them we weren’t, but—”

“But Ward told you not to be rude and let her stay,” you finished, already knowing how this went.

Rafe pointed at you. “Exactly.”

You groaned. “So now what?”

“I told them I was going to the bathroom,” he said. “And now I need you to help me get rid of her. And make sure my family knows I’m not with her.”

You hesitated. “Rafe, I’m not pretending to be your girlfriend in front of your dad.”

“Come on,” he said, and for the first time, you noticed how desperate he looked. “My dad likes you, okay? If you say we’re together, he’ll believe it, and Amelia will finally back off.”

You still weren’t convinced. “And what happens when he finds out it’s a lie?”

Rafe just shrugged. “That’s a future problem.”

You exhaled, glancing toward the entrance. “I swear to God, Cameron…”

Rafe smirked, sensing your hesitation cracking. “So you’ll do it?”

You groaned. “I hate you.”

His smirk widened. “No, you don’t.”

Rolling your eyes, you held out your hand. “Let’s get this over with.”

Without hesitation, Rafe took your hand, threading his fingers through yours like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And just like that, you walked into the lion’s den.

——

The Cameron family sat at a round table on the patio, the perfect picture of wealth and power. Ward sat at the head, Rose beside him, while Sarah and Wheezie chatted quietly. And, of course, Amelia stood close to Rafe’s empty chair, her hand way too close to where his arm would’ve been.

The moment you walked in, Sarah’s eyes widened.

“Are you kidding me?” she blurted.

Amelia turned—and her expression darkened instantly.

Ward raised an eyebrow. “Rafe?”

Rafe barely hesitated. “I wasn’t being rude earlier,” he said, looking directly at his father. “I was just trying to make it clear—I’m not with Amelia. Because I’m with someone else.”

He gave your hand a squeeze, and you took that as your cue. “Hey, Mr. Cameron,” you said with an easy smile, leaning slightly into Rafe’s side. “Hope you don’t mind me crashing family lunch.”

Ward looked between you and Rafe, brow furrowed. “You two are together?”

“Yep,” Rafe said smoothly. “Have been for a little while now.”

Sarah still looked shocked, and Wheezie looked downright delighted, but the best reaction came from Amelia, whose face was rapidly turning red.

“You have to be joking,” she snapped.

“Why?” Rafe tilted his head, feigning confusion. “Jealous?”

Amelia scoffed. “Please. I just didn’t realize you’d lowered your standards so much.”

Your smile tightened. “You know, for someone who’s so sure I’m not a threat, you seem really upset about this.”

Her mouth opened. Then closed. Then, without another word, she turned on her heel and stormed off.

Wheezie barely contained her laughter.

Rose just sipped her wine, watching you both closely. “Well,” she said, “this is… interesting.”

Ward nodded slowly, clearly still processing. “Hmm.”

Before they could say anything else, Rafe let out a dramatic sigh. “Well, this has been fun, but we’ve got plans.”

“We do?” you muttered.

Rafe ignored you. “See you guys later.”

And with that, he pulled you away from the table, out of the club, and toward his truck.

As soon as you were outside, you smacked his arm. “You are so dead for that.”

Rafe just grinned, opening the truck door for you. “Relax. It worked, didn’t it?”

“You owe me.”

He just smirked. “That’s why I’m making it up to you right now.”

You eyed him suspiciously as you climbed into the truck. “How?”

“You’ll see.”

Fifteen minutes later, you found yourself sitting in the bed of his truck, legs crossed beneath you, a cup of ice cream in hand, on a hill overlooking the beach. Almost a little secret hideout you’ve never been to before.

“You know,” you said, glancing at him, “this is a pretty good spot. Romantic, even.”

Rafe scoffed. “If I was trying to be romantic, you’d know.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what does romantic Rafe Cameron look like?”

He smirked, leaning in slightly. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile didn’t fade.

You took a slow bite of your ice cream, then glanced at Rafe. “So… this isn’t where you bring all your girls?”

Rafe scoffed. “Please. You think I waste gas on just anyone?”

You hummed. “Mm. Seems like a solid move, though, so I must be very special.”

Rafe just smirks not giving you the satisfaction of an answer.

After a few moments of silence, he leaned back, voice softer. “You know… I never thought Alex was good enough for you.”

You looked at him, surprised. “What?”

“I’m just saying,” he shrugged, “you always deserved better than that asshole.”

You shook your head. “Well… thanks, I guess.”

Rafe smirked. “Don’t get used to it.”

You laughed, licking your spoon. “No promises.”

—————————————

Let me know what you think? Could be some drama in the coming parts???

Taglist: @rafecameronsbaeee

@drewwhor @wtfisastiles @emmafitzzz

@yourmomdotcom42069 @yasmin-oviedo

@pogueprincesa @maybankslover

@my-name-is-baby @rafecameronsslut1234

[prettyboykatsuki]

please you can’t mix a/b/o and LaDS. i’ll actually keel over and die. 

i can’t stop thinking about it ….

cw for dubcon kinda and rough sex. fem reader. psuedocest (gege. once shfjsjfj)

caleb in a rut. he grew up pretending to be a beta for your sake, taking as much suppressant medication and as many scent blockers as possible to make sure it was concealed. he wanted you to feel safe, to feel more at ease to the point he suppressed his own body completely

and then everything happens between you and caleb strictly forbids you entering his apartment during his rut. you don’t know it at the time, but they’re still permanently irregular from the whole soup of medications he took during his adolescence. so he has these crazy ruts like once or twice a year where he’s completely not himself.

you only found out he was an alpha recently, as in when he came back as a memeber of the fleet. but you’re partners now, you’re supposed to be equals so you want to help him thru his rut

caleb vehemently rejects you. of course he does. he’s not himself and he never wants to do something you do like.

but you’re stubborn and don’t listen so you go over to his apartment anyway. his scent is so thick it permeates from behind the front door of his place. when he answers it after your persistent yelling - he opens the door and it immediately assaults your senses. he’s shirtless, sweaty, pupils completely dilated. his voice is shot.

“go home. now”

he turns you away at the door. you get in each others face until you finally step on the right nerve and caleb yanks you inside and locks you in. cages your body against his front door with this terrifying look in his eyes, his hand gripping your jaw and making you look up at him “so fucking stubborn,”

you underestimate him when he says it’s bad. you dont realize how bad it is until you’re getting fucked over every surface of the house with little to no prep other that the left over, sticky spit from him trying to lick you open. he takes you first right by the door, your pants barely to your knees while your face is against the floor.

“wish you’d be a good girl and listen but you never do. maybe it’ll be a good lesson for you. remember it carefully”

caleb is always so gentle, so careful and kind but he’s forcing your pussy open like it’s nothing. splitting you on his cock as you cry. and he fucks you so deeply and so intense right from the jump, doesn’t ease you into it at all. he takes you on the floor before he helps you up and bends you over the kitchen counter, the back of the couch, pressed into missionary on the coffee table in his living room, on all fours on the stairs.

he’s being mean about it too. every time your pussy tightens up or clenches around him when he smacks it lightly or when he tortures your clit - he has this laugh that borders on callous. loving but humiliating at the same time

“no matter how much i stretch you open it feels like you’re trying to snap my dick off. do you want it so bad, hm?”

he’s merciless. he’s not himself. he makes sure you don’t hurt yourself when repositioning but you’re so full of cum and so sore you can barely move without limping. covered in these deep bite marks as he just goes again and again. mating like you’re animals until he comes out the haze

“how much cum do you think you have in here?” as he smacks your hip. “stay upright. don’t let it spill okay? since gege was so kind and gave it to you.”

he has moments of sobriety. you can always tell bc he becomes worried and affectionate- lapping at your wounds like an oversized dog. but it’s shortlived. the cycle starts again and your pussys wrapped around him like a sleeve for him to fuck.

you don’t get away from him for three days. it feels like your cunt is gonna stay stretched forever and caleb looks so sad and apologetic after. like a kicked dog

and as crazy as he is during - it’s also kind of . nice to feel how deeply he really desires you. the things he says during his ruts are demeaning but still somehow so lovesick and you kind of like seeing him let loose.

[totalswag]

!unexpected surprise! ☆ drew starkey ☆ chapter one

authors note first chapter of my series omg!

summary in which you're cautious when Drew Starkey sneaks into your DMs following a casual encounter at a party. he is well-known for his role in a popular tv show and movies—has millions of fans. the two of you start communicating quietly, slipping minutes between his hectic schedule and your social media responsibilities. the secrecy adds to the excitement, but as the media learns about your link, it becomes increasingly difficult to hide.

series taglist

You are well-known in the social media world. You've been given the opportunity to build close relationships with your supporters—to develop a family and be yourself. Features everything from trip vlogs to fashion hauls, insightful conversations, and humorous content. Your work has built up a big following, with which businesses compete to cooperate. However, you value privacy and provide just the most basic information to your supporters.

Eight o'clock rolls around. Stella gets to your apartment dressed and ready for the night. Before heading out, you both walked to the kitchen to get your pre-game drinks made. Music playing from your speaker sitting on the table in the living room⎯keeping the energy high. 

Tonight you are wearing a jeans with a black tank top with a red heart in the middle along with a cute jacket. Hair and makeup was a little different for the night. Of course, you needed your earrings and twi necklaces. You felt good about yourself.

"No joke, I've been rummaging through my closet for a good outfit," you say as you place the cups down. "I'm not sure why I'm having this strange feeling, but," pause, "who knows what it is about," shaking your head.

"Maybe you'll find your future lover?" she exclaimed dramatically, twisting the cap of the tequila bottle. She put the shots into two tiny glasses. "Are you sure you're ready for this?" she mocked, offering you a shot.

"How can I refuse" you say, smirking and clinking your glasses together.

Stella has been your best friend for seven years, and you are forever grateful to her. She's the type of friend that would drop everything in a moment to be with you and ensure you have a nice time. Her quirky characteristics will make you giggle until your abs hurt.

The drive to the party took twenty minutes. By the time Stella and you get to the neighborhood gate and are let inside, she has taken a few turns and there are several cars parked on the side. Fortunately, Stella found the right spot near the house.

The house was already alive with energy⎯music blared through the air, and groups of people huddled around in conversation, drinks in hand. Stella and you strolled through the crowd of people, her enthusiasm clear. "There they are!" She waved to a small gathering near the kitchen.

One of the girls in the group, carrying a drink, looked over her shoulder, her face lighting up with a smile as she noticed you both going over. "Oh my gosh, so glad you could make it!" Her voice was full of enthusiasm, “I’m Leah and this is Jake.”

"Nice to meet you both, I'm Y/N, and thank you for inviting us," you say politely, shaking each of their hands in a soft gesture. 

As the night continued on, you and Stella stayed by each other. Got the chance to introduce yourselves to new faces around the party and strike conversations. Saw a few familiar faces you’ve worked with before too. Leah and Jake were extremely amazing, keeping you laughing non-stop with their jokes.

And then he walked in.

Drew Starkey.

You spotted him right away⎯tall, effortlessly calm, and commanding without trying. He was deep in conversation with a few people before making his way to where you stood, drink in hand. You weren’t expecting him to actually walk up to you either. 

Before you could blink, he’s standing in front of you, “hey, I don’t think we’ve ever met before, I’m Drew” putting his hand out, smiling softly.

Drew Starkey is talking to me? You think to yourself.

“Y/N,” you carefully say, maintaining eye contact.

Conversation begins between you two. It felt so usual for you, and you didn't feel nervous at all⎯you felt serene, as you put it. The way he focused his attention on you and not anybody else made your tummy flutter⎯as if you two were the only ones in the room. Drew was easy to talk to.

Something about the way his eyes lingered suggested he was intrigued. The conversation between you two was comfortable and natural—even when people walked around the party, he remained, inquiring about what you did and why you came here.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what do you do?” he carefully asks⎯it was obvious he didn’t want to go overboard.

Chuckling softly, running your hands through your hair, “I guess you could say I’m in the entertainment industry” you playfully hint, grinning. 

Raising his eyebrows in amusement, tilting his head back, “looks like I’m gonna have to find out another time then?” he asks with confidence⎯you like it.

Before he left your side, he pulled out his phone. “What’s your Instagram?”

You told him, watching as he followed you without hesitation. “Guess I have some catching up to do.”

Later that night, when you got back to your apartment, your phone buzzed with a notification. Stella's eyes nearly fell out their sockets when she glanced at your screen.

drewstarkey followed you.

drewstarkey sent you a message.

This was going to be interesting.

"Shut the fuck up" you both gasped.

series taglist

@akobx @ethanthequeefqueen

[chrollohearttags]

nobody knows • portgas d. ace

another drabble for sneaky link/ex boyfriend ace bc I have one functioning brain cell and all of it is focused on him atm teehee 🤭

wc: 1.8K

more infidelity (y’all both still AIN’T SHIT 😭 reader got that dog in her I’m sorry), straight porn, modern au, black fem reader, phone sex/sexting, squirting, oral sex, calls reader bitch, a eating + anal, recording, backshots, rough sex, heavy breeding, idk what else will come out

he’s so ooc in this and I don’t give a fuck (I’m ovulating and stressed w life + therapy is too expensive)

═✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿═══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

nobody knows why you and ex-boyfriend!ace broke up in the first place. Honestly, it seemed like such a waste…three long years down the drain with nothing to show for it but the two of you left in shambles. Friends and family consoling you both as you learned to navigate life without one another. (Y/N), moving on fairly quickly with the son of one of your dad’s friends..a byproduct of military nepotism and the very antithesis to what Ace was. A stiff working a cushy desk job and reaping the benefits..pushing papers and always playing it safe. He was very kind, sweet and damn near ideal in every sense of the word. Not too much of a drinker, a partygoer or anything of the sort but he always took you on dates. All of your girlfriends liked him well enough, thinking that he more matched your speed than the thrill seeking, goofy, chaotic daredevil that was ex-boyfriend!ace. Who rode motorcycles and climbed mountains in his spare time, when he wasn’t holding life by the tips of his fingers as an EMT. Covered in tattoos, he looked like such a quintessential, stereotypical ‘bad boy’… “God, (y/n). I don’t know what you ever saw in that guy. He’s a loser, through and through.”

However, what nobody knows..is that you never truly left him alone! He was your ideal match and you couldn’t shake it. You could actually laugh, joke and make mistakes with him. There was no need for faux perfection and lies. You saw each other for who you really were.

Nobody knows that while you’re at work, he’s constantly sending you filthy messages to get you aroused and worked up. Making you chew your lip and the tip of your pen as you twirl in your chair..reading how he’s going to make sure you feel it in your stomach the next time you two link. Nobody knows he shamelessly sends you nut videos, uttering your name with the sexiest moans. Nobody knows that when you tell your assistant that the hour where you refuse any meetings is designated for you to choke on ex-boyfriend!ace’s cock in your cute little business attire..loving the way those glasses hang off the tip of your nose as he pushes your forehead to his pelvis.

“Goddamn, babe..I knew I couldn’t quit you..you’re eating my dick up so good.”

“It’d taste even better if you let me come on it first.”

loving that you were willing to abandon all of your morals for him so easily. Nobody knows about the second phone you keep stashed away in your glovebox just to call him late at night when your new man is sleeping or working overnight and you want some company..

“Can you please come over? I miss you..he won’t be back tonight. I promise.”

“Of course, baby. Anything for you..I’ll always come running when you tell me.”

or in need of a good orgasm because that dummy couldn’t give you one if you handed him a roadmap to the clit! With ex-boyfriend!ace on the other line talking you through it with that deep voice and lewd commands.

“Oh my gosh, pretty girl. Did you call me just so you could touch yourself to the sound of my voice? You’re so cute..” making you FaceTime him because he wants to see the mess he helped create.

nobody knows that whilst you're out at dinner with your new man, alongside loved ones as he boasts about how he knows you’re the one and how you guys make such a lovely couple, (y/n) is daydreaming about ex-boyfriend!ace riding you on the back of his Suzuki through the city, knowing the rush gets you turned on. That rather than dealing with an insecure little boy who felt intimidated by your looks and success, ex-boyfriend!ace would go drinking and partying with you, loving when you showed off your body because he wasn't worried about another man taking what was his. Nobody knows that you have a small tattoo of ex-boyfriend!ace’s name right above your private area. Hell, it's not as if your new man touched you enough to notice and when he did, the lights remained off.

When your girlfriends are divulging the dirt about their relationships and how envious they are of you. Claiming that you hit the jackpot with such a structured, well mannered guy who works a high paying job and always comes home to you. But what nobody knows…is that he could never replace the man you truly love. So much so, when you kiss him on the cheek that Friday evening before heading to the ‘airport’ for another business trip..you’re secretly meeting ex-boyfriend!ace in the top floor suite at a luxury hotel hours away from home where you two go every month to fuck each other's brains out for three days straight. Akin to addicts who can’t be satisfied, you rabidly devour one another until your bodies quit.

“I’ve waited all week for this…I’m so not sorry for how I’m about to fuck you.” ”I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Wrapping his hands around your throat, shoving his tongue into your mouth as he corners you against a wall. Nobody knows that ex!boyfriend!ace has you face down on a mattress with your ass up in the air as his tongue explores both of your entrances. Practically seating you on his face to suction around that clit, flicking his tongue in and out of your tight cunt before prodding your asshole, leaving a sloppy trail of saliva on each of them. Because you wore that adorable little heart shaped plug to help prep you for the weekend.

“You taste so fucking good…especially when I know you’ll let me have it anytime I want.”

nobody knows that you’re somewhere gripping the sheets for dear life as ex-boyfriend!ace delivers the most insane backshots you’ve ever felt. Those perfectly round, thick cheeks ricocheting off of his lower half..the contrast in your skin and that pearlescent scream surrounding his shaft making the sight even better…ripping orgasms from your body with no shame because he deserves it. After all, you belong to him.

“That’s right..come on this dick, bitch. Give me what I want..” he still loves and respects you all the same. But ace knows you prefer rough, degrading sex far more than the mundane and vanilla. Especially when it was in short supply with your current situation. Even going as far as to place a foot on your head, tugging your arms behind your back so that he can really bury his cock inside of you.

“Yes! Keep fucking meeee, just like that, daddy. ‘S so good!”

“You love when I dig you out like this, treating you like a little slut..’swear this pussy’s going to get me in some serious trouble one day. But I don’t care, I love you.”

rambling on as he feels you twitching around him for the third time, leaving splatters of warm juices each time; squirting immensely from the constant stimulation to your spot.

“Damn, you’re coming so hard, pretty girl. Is he not fucking you right?” Laughing before he could even get the very rhetorical question from his mouth. Leaning down to place a trail of pecks and licks on your spine to console you before placing you into a prone position. ”Of course not..nobody knows this body better than me. Isn’t that right, gorgeous?” All but confirmed by the way you’re tightening around him..he can’t help but to grip your throat and steal sloppy kisses from you whilst he drills you into the mattress. “Nooo, babyyy. You’re the only one who can fuck me this good..oh my Goddd—“ placing his camera in your face so that he could have it for safekeeping..(and in case he gets wind of your man running his mouth about him again!) Making you call his name and scream it to the heavens. “Aceeee, fuck meeee..”

Nobody knows that you’ve been fucking for damn near an hour while your phone buzzes with missed calls and texts from your boyfriend and whatever little girl he’s deciding to entertain for the moment. As heinous as it was, you were just filling the void and you’d always find your way back to each other. Perhaps it was the thrill of sneaking around that kept this charade going. Either way, you weren’t giving each other for a long time and it’s so obvious why..no one else will do the freaky shit that you both crave so much.

“Oh my gosh, I can’t believe you’re letting me fuck your ass again..feels amazing.” glaring up at him with the most adoring gaze in your eyes and smile on your face as you proudly hold a vibrator to your clit..allowing him to stretch that opposite opening. Practically coming on spot when you began to show your gratitude for this pleasure…

“Thank you, daddy..using all my holes like this. I love it so much.” That much apparent by the tears pouring down your face alongside that toothy grin. Only he could give it to you so good, you begin to cry!

“Oh shit..of course, gorgeous girl. I’d do anything for you..anything to see my baby smile.” Including pinning you down by your throat and letting trails of saliva drip into your mouth. Even feeding you a couple slaps when you all but pleaded with him to treat you like an object.

nobody knows that on the sparse occasions when you have sex with your current man, he’s forced to wear a condom because you’ve discussed several times that you don’t want children and you’re not taking any risks. But ex-boyfriend!ace gets the privilege of feeling that hard cock sliding in and out of you raw..and to breed you as many times as he can muster! Letting load after load spill into your aching womb. Filling every hole with that dripping seed.

“You look so pretty stuffed with my cum, sweetheart. Just how I like it.”

nobody knows why you left ex-boyfriend!ace in the first place but you knew why you’d always come running back!

@violetxxvenom @shamelesshoefairy @lwop-kpop

[wannabeschyulersister]

a big question

“You’ve been unusually quiet today. It’s strange. What’s on your mind?” You asked, growing weary of the silence.

Pedro took a deep breath, “There’s something that I want to talk to you about.”

“Oh my God! Are you breaking up with me?” you blurted out, “Is it because of the small scratch I accidentally got on your car? I’m so sorry! I didn’t notice that pole and-“

Pedro swiftly reached over and grasped your hand. “(Y/n), take a deep breath. Don’t worry, Amor. I’m not breaking up with you. I would be foolish to let you go.”

His words had a calming effect on your heart. With each deep breath, your anxiety gradually faded.

“Sorry, then what is it?”

Pedro still held your hand, gently rubbing it with his thumb. “I’d love to spend more time with you. It feels like we haven’t seen each other in ages.”

His words touched your heart. You both had been swamped with work lately, with Pedro about to start filming the first movie in what you could guess would be a long series.

You were in the thick of filming season two of a drama series on Hulu. There were already whispers of it getting renewed for seasons three and four. You were over the moon about the job security, but it came at a price - it strained your relationship.

Pedro was off filming overseas for a few months in a matter of weeks, while you’d be stuck in New York. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have the same worries as him.

“I want to spend more time with you too, babe. I could be in London as soon as we wrap filming. I think I’d have at least three weeks free before anything else pops up.”

“And I’ll enjoy every minute of you joining me…”

“But?” It seemed like he had something else on his mind.

Pedro looked down at your intertwined hands and said, “I don’t want you to panic about what I’m about to ask you.”

You managed to suppress your “freak out” until he posed his question.

“I know we’ve discussed taking things at our own pace and not letting other people’s timelines influence our relationship.”

You nodded and softly said, “Yeah.”

“But I believe we’re ready for the next phase. (Y/n), I want you to move in with me.”

You reached over and gently shoved his good shoulder, causing him to budge slightly. “That’s it?!”

Pedro chuckled at your reaction, “What do you mean?”

“I’m over here thinking that I’m about to be dumped!”

He reached over and grabbed your other hand as well, “I apologize for the scare. What are your thoughts? Would you like to move in with me? I would love to wake up next to you every day. I would love to see more of your things around this place.”

“You could’ve asked in a better way.” You mumbled jokingly.

“Amor!” Pedro laughed, “Is that a yes or a no?”

You stood from your seat and walked around the table. He pulled you onto his lap, pressing a tender kiss to your neck.

“Yes, I’d love to move in with you, Pedro.”

You sealed your answer with a sweet kiss from the man you couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your life with.

Pedro ended the kiss way too soon, “Wait, did you say you scratched my car?”

[rainydayathogwarts]

congrats on 3000!! may i please request a spring - “i can’t believe you’re all mine” with james potter? thank you <3

Words by the fireplace - James potter

ʀᴀɪɴʏᴅᴀʏᴀᴛʜᴏɢᴡᴀʀᴛꜱ' 3ᴋ ᴄᴇʟᴇʙʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ! summary: sleepy conversations with bf!james potter - also happy late valentines wc: 0.5k+

A press of soft lips on your forehead caused a smile to bloom on your face. You’d been convinced James had been asleep for the last half an hour, but you didn’t want to move, the tight hold his arms hand around your body giving you comfort and warmth. Instead of leaving James alone in the common room for him to find you’d abandoned him, you busied yourself with staring at the dancing flames of the fire at the base of the chimney.

James’s lips separated from your forehead to press another kiss to your cheek, and another down your jaw. “Thought you were taking a nap.” You muttered, hands trailing under James’s untucked shirt to set on the warm skin of his chest. “Woke up like ten minutes ago.” He replied tiredly, suppressing a yawn. You shuffled in James’s arms so you could twist your body just enough to look him in the eyes, a look of adoration on your face. James smiled, his eyes fluttering shut as he leaned down to press his lips to yours in a loving kiss.

After a moment of silence, James spoke again. “You stayed.” You hummed, a hand reaching up between you and your boyfriend’s bodies to tug on the collar of James’s shirt. You pulled him closer to you by the article of clothing, digging your face in the crook of his neck and pressing a kiss on his skin. James’ arms loosened up from around your body, one hand snaking under your thigh to pull your leg over his lap. You shifted your weight over James so that you could straddle him, turning your head to rest your cheek on his chest, feeling the thump of the steady beat of his heart.

“Thought you ‘n Marlene had plans.” James whispered, one hand resting on your back as the other brushed hair away from your face. “Told her tomorrow.” You replied, sighing in satisfaction as you blinked slowly, eyelids getting heavier every time you opened them. “Could’ve slept.” He chuckled, causing a smile to tug at the corner of your lips. “I know. Don’t know why I didn’t.” “Like watching me sleep, that’s why.” It was your turn to laugh, and you finally lifted your head off James’s muscular chest. “Can’t deny that. But, I…” Your words drifted as you glanced at James, so carefully observing you, listening to each word you uttered. James hummed, cueing you to continue. “… I think we should go back to sleep. In a bed.”

A wide grin formed on James’s face, and he cupped your face, pulling you to press a chaste kiss to your lips. “I can’t believe you’re all mine.” You felt your face heat up, standing up when he tapped you twice on the leg, holding a hand out for him to hold. James took your hand, leading you to his dorm, and asking “Well if we sleep until past six and I miss practice, can I blame it one you?” You nodded before stopping in your tracks and furrowing your eyebrows. “James you’re captain. You can cancel practice.”

“Oh yeah, let me do that."

taglist: @ravisinghs-wife, @amatoanima, @starry-remus, @pain-in-the-ashe, @hiireadstuff, @superlegend216, @treefairy-28, @superlegend216, @kitkatkl, @rory-cakes

[formula-ghost]

Wildflower (OP81 x fem!reader x LN4)

Chapter 4

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Even though you agreed to forgive Oscar, you realize quickly that nothing can go back to how it was before, and some old flames never die.

WORD COUNT: 10.1k

WARNINGS: Lando is very mean to reader behind her back, also reader is lowkey so dumb and frustrating but that's intentional.

TAGLIST: @at-a-rax-ia  @henna006 @linnygirl09 @cassielikereading @judelina @supertrashbread @fastandcurious16 @widow-cevans @czennieszn @irisesinthegarden @wierdflowerpower @sweetwh0re @reginalaufeyson-holmes @honethatty12 @suns3treading @obxstiles @mimiastroos @mrs-reeves-17 @milkysoop @amalialeclerc @starksztony @llando4norris @ginsengi @angxlzinthesky @makanirock05 @htpssgavi @lilypat @1-queenofpotatoes-1 @ameliaalvarez06

A/N: A few things: (1) This one is for Billie. The Grammys did her DIRTY. (2) I realized I have horrifically messed up the pacing since real F1 races are so close together so we’re gonna pretend like there are a few weeks in between Imola and Monaco because this is my fanfic and I make the rules. (3) If this is bad I’m sorry, my life is a mess right now and I’m so sorry it took me so long to get this out to you guys! (4) I went back and found a few people that accidently got left out of the taglist, my bad! I’ve linked the previous chapters below so you can catch up (5) As always, I hope you all enjoy :)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

From your balcony, you sighed in contentment as you heard the gentle lapping of waves from the endless expanse of water that stretched out before you. There were yachts teeming with giggling models, the chattering of French spoken on the streets below, the buzz of such a city of opulence. It was music to your ears. 

The view of Monaco was one you never thought you’d get tired of. The place, though so new, also felt so much like home to you. The streets were paved with hope and memory, the water brimming with joy yet to be.

All of it was yours. Because of Oscar.

Yet again, his name came to your mind to taunt you. 

Maybe taunt was too strong of a word. You weren’t quite sure. You weren’t sure of much of anything, anymore.

Your interactions with your friend had been…awkward, to say the least. You had made a vow to yourself to forgive him, but he seemed…a little too excited to be forgiven, if that made any sense. He wanted to go back to the way that things had been before all of this, but how was that possible?

You had explored every inch of each other’s bodies. You had held each other in the heat of passion. How are you supposed to act as if none of that ever happened?

His words echoed in your brain. I can’t be the boyfriend you deserve. Not right now, at least. 

You had never even asked Oscar to be official. The thought was too far-fetched. I just want my friend back in my life. Like all of that never happened.

Well, at least one of you got what you wanted.

But then again, you truly didn’t know what you wanted from him anymore. To Oscar’s credit, you weren’t exactly making it easy to get back in your good graces.  

The one thing you had been sure you wanted was more independence. No more living in an apartment that Oscar owned, or letting him jetset you across the world to his races and paying for all your expensive dinners.

No, it was time to be your own woman. That meant leaving Monaco.

So you took advantage of every morning you still had in this city that you’d grown to love, knowing that soon, you’d have to leave.

“You don’t have to go.”

Oscar’s voice floated into your ears. He had practically moved in; he was trying to sell his larger apartment, and the place was constantly swarming with real estate agents and potential buyers. Even if it wasn’t so hectic, he hated being there alone, and you refused to go back there with him. Not after the confrontation with Lily back in Imola.

“You don’t have to leave,” he repeated. “I know you’re thinking about it.”

Sometimes it felt like Oscar could read your mind.

“Yes I do,” you responded, sipping your tea, not shifting your gaze from the water. 

“I can just give you the apartment, if you’re worried about it being in your name. I can pay the gift tax too.”

“No,” you whispered. 

“I have more money that I’d ever know what to do with, YN—”

“I don’t,” you said, keeping your voice steady. “So I can’t stay here.”

Oscar knew his arguments were all in vain. You were nothing if not stubborn.

“I need you here,” he said.

“I’ll be just across the border.” It was more than likely; you could probably get a decent apartment in Nice within your budget.

“And what about at my races?”

“I’ll always come to Monaco.” You were also contemplating quitting your job; you hadn’t said it aloud yet, but Oscar knew. You were just waiting until you found something stable to quit. It was only a matter of time.

He was already pushing his luck. You walked past him back into the apartment and the Aussie sighed. 

He didn’t have long to fix all that he had fucked up. 

Especially considering your newfound friendship with Lando, although you had done your best to keep that hidden. Something about it felt…wrong. Like a betrayal. 

Morning pretty girl, read the message from the Brit on your phone. You smiled but rolled your eyes. Lando’s playful flirting and banter was comical to you. Of course, it meant nothing. Lando wasn’t your type, and you weren’t his. 

You shot him back a good morning text of your own, before setting your phone down in the living room to clean up your breakfast. Your phone buzzed again, and Oscar grabbed it.

“You got a message from…Lando?”

“Put my phone down, Oscar.”

“Why are you texting Lando?” 

“Am I not allowed to have friends?”

You walked back into the living room, where Oscar handed you your phone. You plopped down on the couch, opening the device to see what he had texted you. 

You up for a coffee later today? There’s a new cafe I’ve been wanting to try.

You texted back quickly, affirming that you’d be there. 

“What did he want?”

“Oscar, seriously? I’m grown.”

“I’m just curious.”

“He just wanted to get coffee later today.”   

“He asked you on a date?” His face was red with impending anger.

“It’s not a date. It’s coffee. Amongst friends and coworkers, which we are. You weren’t this worried when you all left me with him in Italy,” you said, staring into the stitches on the decorative pillows on your couch.

“Things were different then.” 

His words were dripping with some unrecognizable emotion—regret, maybe, or sadness. You couldn’t be sure. But it startled you.

So you ignored it, instead grabbing your laptop and headphones before sitting at your kitchen table. “I have to get this stuff done,” you said, and Oscar just nodded. 

He had his own work to take care of. 

Later that afternoon, as you wrapped up your work and got ready to meet Lando at the cafe, you were already feeling Oscar’s absence throughout your small apartment.

It was like being stuck between a rock and a hard place; you wanted to stay in Monaco, to stay by Oscar’s side, for everything to stay the way that they had always been. But you knew that you just couldn’t.

“Why?” Lando asked, sipping on some fancy tea ordered from the admittedly adorable cafe in a hidden corner of Monte Carlo. Despite your better judgements, you had confided in him about your anxieties regarding the future. “Why would you need to leave so badly? I don’t get it. Just let him pay for all your shit. It’s the least he can do.”

“No, I’ve relied on him for too long,” you answered. “I just need to be more of myself. We’ve always been so…intertwined.”

“I know you two are close.”

“No, it’s more than that. It’s like…our lives are just, I don’t know, connected? Like I didn’t know where my story ended and his began. It’s hard to explain.”

“You must be heartbroken.”

You raised a brow. That wasn’t quite the word you’d use. “What do you mean?” you asked.

“Well, to have all of this happen. You must miss him a lot.” 

“Oh, well, he practically lives with me,” you laughed. “This all started because we got into it before Miami, but we’ve made up now. It’s just hard having to navigate all the logistics.” 

“Oh,” he replied, his voice tinged with a snark that you weren’t quite sure what to make of. He raised his eyebrows and took another sip of his tea.

“What?” you asked. 

“Well, it’s just…I mean, that was quick.” He wouldn’t meet your gaze. “Back in Imola, you seemed pretty pissed at him.” 

“I was. But,” you paused, swirling a small spoon around your own drink, “That crash was bad. Things like it just put everything in perspective, you know?”

“So everything’s fine between the two of you now, because he hit a wall?” Lando chuckled, sarcasm dripping from every word.

You looked up, your brows furrowed in confusion. “Really?”

“I just think you deserve better. You shouldn’t have to beg someone to love you.”

You bit the inside of your cheek before replying, “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but that’s not what’s happening at all.”

“It isn’t?”

“Who told you any of this?” you asked. 

You didn’t know that Oscar had told him everything, that drunken night after Miami. And what you didn’t know, Lando decided, couldn’t hurt you. He liked having the upper hand, dropping little hints that his knowledge was far beyond what anyone thought. “Why does that matter? It’s obvious to anyone with a pair of eyes.”

“Just like it was so obvious that Oscar was cheating on me with Lily?”  You looked back down to the now cold contents of your cup.

Lando was silent for a minute. “Things don’t have to be like this, YN.”

“It’s funny, cause that’s exactly what Oscar told me.”

“Why do you let him get away with all this shit?”

“Do you really think I just welcomed him back into my life like nothing happened? Forgiveness isn’t that simple. Just because we’re not screaming at each other doesn’t mean that everything is fine. It’s… complicated.”

“I’m sure it is. But can I ask you a question?”

You just tilted your head in response, mentally preparing for whatever curveball he’d throw you next. You liked the banter with Lando; it was challenging, like a back and forth dance, or a chess game.

Lando leaned in close, lowering his voice. “You said Oscar practically moved in with you. Where does he sleep at night?”

You laughed at the implication. “I’m not sleeping with him anymore.” 

“Anymore?” he asked.

You paused, your smile fading. Lando’s smile spread ear to ear. 

You had lost the game, finally revealing the truth without even intending to. 

“You’re good, Norris,” you said, swirling your spoon around the cup just to give your hands something to do. “Too good. You know, Oscar’s not too fond of me being here.”

“I’m sure he’s not,” Lando replied. “I’m sure he tells you all sorts of horrible things about me.”

“Are they true?” you asked, though Oscar had told you nothing of the sort. His hesitations came off more as paranoid ramblings rather than juicy gossip or evidence-based skepticism. 

Lando leaned in and smirked at you. “Why don’t you roll over in bed tonight and ask him?”

Your phone buzzed as you fumbled in your bag for your keys outside your front door. You spotted the lanyard, and held your phone in one hand as you closed your bag in the other.

It was really nice to see you today. I’d like to do it again. 

You let out a half laugh, half exhale. Lando was… fun. Dangerous, in a way. He had a mysterious air about him that surprised you, and it was intoxicating. 

You knew you needed to be more careful about what you let slip. He seemed to know every detail, all coming from some phantom source you couldn’t trace. Being a social media manager, you were acutely aware of how easily words could get misconstrued and livelihoods could be destroyed. 

But so was Lando, and after all, it wasn’t like he was a stranger to controversy.

You unlocked the door to your apartment and locked your phone. You’d get to that text later. For now, you had a seemingly endless mountain of work—domestic and professional—to tackle.

But as you set down your bag, you heard the familiar sound of your kitchen sink running.

Oscar was…doing dishes?

You made your way into the kitchen and stood in the entryway. “You didn’t have to do that,” you said. “I was just about to take care of it.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. 

“You should be, like, training or something, not doing my dishes.” You smiled. He didn’t.

“How’d your afternoon with Lando go?” He crossed his arms and leaned back against the sink, facing you. His expression was unreadable.

Truthfully? Odd. Exhilarating. Anxiety-inducing. But you couldn’t say that to Oscar now. 

And as you saw his imposing form, even sloped away from you, the words that the Brit had planted in your head echoed. 

The more time you spent with Lando, the more tense you were with Oscar. You recognized that. 

“It was fine,” you said. You guessed that was the right word to use, at least.

Oscar hung his head low, studying the floor. He was nervous. “Can I tell you something, friend to friend?”

“What?”

“I don’t really like you spending time with Lando.”

You just looked at him, stopped in your tracks by his audacity. “Are you serious?”

“You know he’s up to nothing good, right? Conveniently hitting you up when we’re fighting for the championship, and then he ran brake checked me into the fucking wall in Imola—”

“Oh my God, you are serious.”

“I don’t know what he’s told you, but you can’t trust him.”

“Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds coming from you?”

“YN, just hear me out—”

“Now now, Oscar,” you said, grabbing your headphones and laptop and walking out onto your balcony.  

You took a deep breath before slipping your headphones on and trudging through the work.

You closed the laptop as the sun began to set over Monaco. Oscar walked out onto the patio and sat next to you. 

“I’m going to say this once,” he said. “Please just listen to me, YN. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“That’s rich, coming from you.” 

“I know,” he said. “But I know a liar when I see one. He doesn’t love you, YN. He’s just using you.” 

You were digging your nails into your palm. 

“I don't know what his game is, but we’re all just pawns in it,” he said, his tone more frantic.

“I need to go to bed,” you said. ‘I have to be up early,” you walked past him into the apartment, but he grabbed you by the sleeve.

“YN, listen to me!”

You turned around to face him, your anger now fully unleashed. “Has it ever occurred to you that someone might just like me for me? Can you even imagine a man loving me for more than my body? He’s never even tried to get in my pants.”

“I see the way he looks at you.”

“And so what if he does?”

“He’s trying to drive a wedge between us.”

“You’re the only one driving a wedge between us, Oscar.”

“YN, I’m just saying this because I’m worried about you! You shouldn’t trust him.”

“And I should trust you instead?”

Oscar paused. “YN, I love you and—”

“Stop. Just…stop. I actually do have to go to bed.” You wiped your eyes, swatting away the faintest trace of tears that had come up. “I have to go look at an apartment tomorrow.”

Oscar bit his lip and huffed. “I thought you had forgiven me, YN.”

“I have.”

No. At the hospital, in Imola. I asked you to forgive me so we could be friends again and you said yes. Then you go and start flirting with my teammate and saying you're going to leave Monaco. I don't understand why you’re still so mad at me. I don’t know what to do.”

“Oscar, none of this is about you!” you exclaimed. “I mean, it is, but this isn’t some petty act of revenge. This is about the fact that I need my own life.”

“I used to be part of your life.”

“You used to be my entire life,” you said, and laughed. “Shit, you still are. You don’t get it.”

“I guess I don’t.”

You both paused, soaking in the tension of the scene.

“And you didn’t ask for my forgiveness,” you said. “You asked to act like none of this ever happened. I can’t do that. We…crossed a line. Things are different now.”

The tiniest part of you wanted to hop back on the other side of that line and drag Oscar into your bedroom right now. You craved the feeling of him stretching you, your hands clawing up his back or burying themselves in his hair as he buried his tongue— 

“You said never again,” he whispered. “But we both still feel the same, don’t we?” 

“I really need to go to bed.”

That night, Oscar took the couch. It didn’t matter. You couldn’t sleep. 

As you tossed and turned, you considered Oscar’s word against Lando’s, Lando’s against Oscar’s. 

Lando had said you shouldn’t forgive Oscar. And to his credit, Oscar was making that very difficult. But had you not given your best friend your word?

And what Oscar had said about Lando; he wasn’t trustworthy, he was just using you as a pawn. You hated to admit it, but it was probably true. Hell, Lando would never go for a girl like you. But the back and forth of your banter brought you a thrill you hadn’t felt in months. 

Shit, you had never texted him back. Did you really want to see him again?

You didn’t know how long this charade could go on, until Lando got whatever it is that he really wanted. But Oscar’s words still burned you with fury. 

I’d love to. 

You rode the train to Nice like a zombie, traversing the shitty apartment with lead feet, yawning the entire time. You weren’t missing much. 

Your phone buzzed with a text from Oscar, and you read it on the train ride back. 

I’m sorry for last night.

It’s fine, you replied.

Almost instantly, another message. No, it’s not. I should have just minded my own business. 

You were too exhausted to think of a reply, needing all your energy to make it from the train station back to your apartment in Monaco unscathed and collapse on the bed. 

“How was the apartment?” Oscar asked from the bathroom, preoccupied with his shaving. 

“Shitty,” you mumbled, face into the pillow. 

Oscar looked over. “Sleep badly last night?”

“You don’t even know,” you huffed. “Wait, where are you going?” 

“Buyer,” he said simply, sparing your exhausted brain the boring details of real estate management. 

You made some unintelligible noise in response. “Get some rest,” he said. “I’ll wake you up when I’m back, yeah?”

You handed him a thumbs up as you pulled the covers over you and fell asleep within minutes. 

Oscar would have given anything to be back in that bed, curled up next to you. Instead, he was inside his old, empty apartment, with Lily. 

It had been in her name too, after all. She had to be there for the sale, though neither were too happy to see each other. They looked over documents wordlessly, shuffling the papers back and forth between them, just anxious to get it over with. 

As the lawyers and real estate agents packed up their belongings, Lily sighed, clearly unamused. “It's a bit ridiculous that I had to fly all the way to Monaco for that, no?” 

“Yeah, sorry,” Oscar said, doing his best to make idle conversation. “So, how are things at work?”

“Fine,” she replied, her lips pursed. “How’s the season going?”

“You haven’t been watching?” he asked. 

“I’m busy on Sundays.”

“Ah.” The tension was thick. “It’s been okay.” 

Lily bit the inside of her cheek, determining how far she wanted to take her next move. “How’s YN?”

“Fine,” he replied, too quick and sharp to be genuine.

“That’s not what I heard,” she said. “I heard you made a move on her days after we broke up, and she dumped you because she felt so bad about it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Oscar said, a reflex more than a conscious choice to lie.

“Yes you do,” she replied. “And honestly, you all deserve each other.” Her words dripped with venom.

“Why do you care?” Oscar replied, his polite exterior broken by the confrontation. “Isn’t that exactly why you left? But now you’re mad because I actually did it.”

“I thought you were better than that. I wish you could have proven me wrong,” she said. “Oh my God, I was so stupid. Lando was right,” she said, bringing her palm to her forehead and fixing her gaze on the floor. 

“Wh— Lando?”

“Why do you think I finally got the nerve to tell you how I felt? Lando knew you were cheating. And I don’t care what you or her say, I don’t believe you anymore. There’s no way you just…crawled into her bed 4 days after I left you. You had to have been cheating.”

“Lily, I never cheated on you. Why would Lando tell you that?” 

“Because it was happening right in front of my eyes! And for so long I just ignored it and pushed it all down.” Her eyes were prickling up with tears, the effect of the emotion being so fresh in the presence of her now ex-lover. “I just told myself that you all were friends. It was normal for your boyfriend to look at his best friend like that. Oh, yes, it’s so normal for your boyfriend to bring his girl best friend on every vacation, every night out, every trip home! I can’t believe that your fucking teammate had to be the one to open my eyes.” 

“Lily,” Oscar repeated, “I never, never, cheated on you. Yes, I was a horrible boyfriend. And yes,” he paused and sighed before continuing, ‘YN and I… it’s complicated. But never before you left. I don’t know what the hell Lando is telling you but it’s a lie.”

“You’re the only liar. You and YN. She acts like she’s so honest, but I know. You had to have been cheating. You all wanted each other for years.”

“Lily—”

“Don’t, Oscar,” she said, wiping her eyes. “It doesn’t really matter anymore. What’s done is done. I just hope you two are happy.” Lily grabbed her purse off the kitchen counter and swiftly left the apartment, leaving behind only the soft clicking of her heels against the tile of the hallway, and the echo of what once was, reverberating around the apartment before slowly fading into the quiet of the afternoon. 

Back at your place, Oscar entered quietly, careful not to wake you. All he wanted was to sleep.

He slowly took off his shoes and jacket, sinking into the bed next to you. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep; his mind was racing, his nervous system wired. But he wanted to rest, to feel the warmth and weight of your sleeping body next to his own. For just a moment, the world could stop, and he would feel okay again. 

But it couldn’t be. You had always been a light sleeper. The mere sound of his opening and closing the front door had caused you to stir. The feeling of his weight down on the bed led you to rise, stretching your arms about your head before rubbing your eyes.

Oscar couldn’t help it; his eyes glanced to the exposed skin of your stomach from where your shirt rode up when he stretched. You had said no more sex, and he respected that. But it didn’t mean that he wanted you any less. 

“What time is it?” you mumbled. 

“Almost five,” he answered.

“Oh, shit,” you said. You hadn’t expected to sleep this long. You looked over to Oscar, who was hiding his face in his hands. “You can have the bed, I’ll go make food.”

You swung your legs over the bed, but Oscar reached out and grabbed your wrist. “Stay,” he said. “Please.”

That woke you up quick. Oscar could feel the blood pulse through your veins as he held your wrist, a whispered plea for comfort.

“Osc…”

“Lily was there. At the apartment.”

“I don’t think—”

“She said…God, YN, I feel like I’m going fucking crazy.”

“Let go of my arm, please.”

Oscar awkwardly let you go, not realizing that he had essentially kept you pinned to the spot. You wordless rose and left the room for the kitchen.

As you stirred the pot of food to a simmer, you watched the little bubbles rise to the top, like the little kernels of emotion that ran through you. If it were up to you, you’d close the lid on them and leave them forever. But then the house could burn down.

What an apt metaphor.

But truly, you knew you were trying to outrun something, a force so strong you couldn’t ignore it. 

Love, lust, desire? It couldn’t be named. Unfortunately, it followed you around the apartment. 

“How are we friends if we can’t even talk?” Oscar said, having followed you to the kitchen, now standing in the doorway. What he was doing was a bit unfair, cornering you here when you couldn’t really leave. But what else could he do?

“You can talk to me,” you said. “Just not in my bed.”

You refused to look at the Aussie, instead putting all your focus into chopping the vegetables, drowning out his words in the sharp sounds of the knife tearing through the onion and shallots.

“Lily was there. She told me that Lando told her that I cheated on her with you.”

You snorted. “What are we, back in middle school? He said, she said?”

“Well, considering she left me over it, I don’t find it very funny.”

“Oscar, you never cheated. Everyone knows that.” 

“Lando is—”

“Who cares what Lando says?” You used the flat blade of the knife to swipe the chopped vegetables off the cutting board and into the pot.  

“I care!”

“Do you blame him for thinking we were hooking up?”

“I blame him for putting thoughts in my girlfriend’s head that weren’t true.” 

You put the knife on the counter with a thud. “Ex-girlfriend.”

Oscar paused, mentally cursing himself for the slip of words. “I’m just saying, he’s going around saying things without any regard to what damage they may cause.”

“You sound paranoid,” you said, grinding salt and pepper into the mixture. 

“I just…” Oscar grasped for the right words, careful to not let his frustration take over, “I would just really appreciate it if you don’t tell him anything. Because he already took her from me.” 

You put the lid back on the pot and turned the heat down. “The male audacity never ceases to amaze me.”

“What?”

“Oscar, she didn’t leave you because Lando was poisoning her thoughts, or whatever. She left because she was unhappy.”

“She left because she felt threatened by you. Because of what Lando said.”

You finally turned around to face him, your cheeks now red with frustration. “It only took you four days to prove her right! This isn’t about Lando. This is about the fact that you still can’t accept what you did. With her or with me.”

“You wanted it, too,” he responded, his voice now low and husky. “And you still want it. Deep down, you know it.”

You swallowed, suddenly noticing how his arms filled out the sleeves of his shirt just right, and how the blood rushed to his cheeks while he was angry, painting his face a delightful shade of blush. 

“That’s irrelevant.” 

“If I’m guilty, then so are you. Because you imagined every second of it.”

“Not like this,” you whispered. “And you did too.”

He stepped forward, closing the gap between you two. “Stop talking to Lando.”

Your voice rose to a normal level, relieved by the changed tension. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

God, how badly you wanted him to push you up against the wall and take you right then and there. No, you couldn’t. But he was right.

You had wanted this. You were guilty.

It was eating you alive. 

The Monaco Grand Prix. The epitome of glitz and glamor, wealth and class, speed and history. It was everything that you and Oscar loved about the sport of Formula 1, right from the comfort of  your backyard.

Well, not for much longer. But that was a thought you were trying to avoid. 

You had looked at a couple more apartments in your budget, only to be disappointed by all of them. Of course, nothing could beat the picturesque view you had right outside your living room every morning. 

If it were up to you, you would have watched the race from your balcony, but duty called. You put on your best face of professionalism for the weekend.

It turns out, going back to being “just friends” was a paradox. You couldn’t; not after the unhealed wounds, the ghost of phantom touches and unforgettable nights that still haunted both of you. 

But even when you pretended, you couldn’t deny the sexual tension that underlied every interaction. 

You had almost forgotten that feeling; it lingered after your first encounter with Oscar, where you had taken each other’s virginity, but it had been different then. Only a few days and a handful of awkward texts before things just went back to normal. He went back to the UK, you went back to school, he met Lily, and the rest was history.

But now, it was inescapable, breaking into every crack and crevice of the apartment, in every breath between you two that held a second too long of eye contact.

It was torture. At least professionalism was somewhat of a reprieve. 

You raised your camera up to take a shot of Oscar walking out of the McLaren garage, thankful to be able to hide behind your lens. Through it, you could see the strained outline of his muscles underneath his fireproof shirt. His hair was glistening with sweat, and his chest heaved, letting out a frustrated sigh at the results of quali.

“Care to get a picture of the pole sitter, YN?” you heard behind you, and turned to see Lando’s cheeky grin as he shook his hair. His discarded balaclava was in one hand, and he ran his other through his loose curls, balancing his helmet on his hip.

You let out a small huff of a laugh and snapped a quick picture. 

“Let me see,” he said, walking next to you. You held up the small screen for him to see.

“Wow, you make me look good,” he teased.

“Oh no,” you bantered back, “that’s the magic of editing.”

“No way. The only Oscar can look that good on Instagram is because you’re behind the camera.”

You laughed out of reflex at the crude joke. “Actually,” you said, “most pics I take don’t make it to social media.” Lando raised an eyebrow. You continued, “Yeah, most of what we post is from the actual photographers. Leave the beautification to the professionals.”

“Really?” he asked.

“Well, I just like to take pictures, but I’m not very good at it. Most of my actual work is all the boring stuff with the merch.”

Lando’s grin returned. “So all those pictures you took of me at Imola, was that just because you wanted to look at my face, huh?”

“I’d need more than just photoshop to make you look pretty, Norris.” You both knew the joke was false. Lando was perfect—tanned skin, chiseled body, brown coils catching the sunlight and caused golden highlights to cascade through his locks. You couldn’t deny that Lando Norris was fucking hot.

“Ouch! And here I thought you liked me,” he joked. “Considering I’m taking you out to dinner, and all.”

You looked over your shoulder, checking for any other McLaren drivers who may be listening. But Oscar was far out of sight. 

“Just a little friendly meal between colleagues,” you said, a tense smile coming to your face.

“Keep telling yourself that, love,” he said, before being called over to the media tent. 

You gave him another smile as he walked off, but truthfully, you weren’t exactly excited. You weren’t quite sure what to make of Lando, especially given Oscar’s reservations. Getting this close to him, especially in public, was…dangerous. 

You felt that familiar knot of anxiety in your stomach. Maybe Oscar was right.

But Lando turned around and flashed you his award winning smile and a wink, and you giggled out of reflex. Maybe Oscar’s paranoia was wearing off on you. 

It didn’t matter now. You had a job to do. 

Which was very hard to do, considering that no one could find Oscar after he left the media pen. 

Unbeknownst to you, Oscar was back in his driver’s room, doing anything he could to avoid losing his mind.

Quali had gone horribly. At a track like Monaco, where overtaking was so scarce, he had essentially sighed away potential points. And to make it all worse, Lando had gotten pole, and to celebrate, he had stood in front of Oscar’s own garage, chatting you up without a care in the world.

Oscar couldn’t even bear to see it. He had trudged off to the media pen, quickly gave his statement, then booked it to the room to be alone for a while.

But it felt like he was going crazy. He couldn’t relax, his leg bouncing up and down at a fervent pace, his breaths strained. Was he having a panic attack? This must be close to it.

But no, it wasn’t panic. It was anger. He felt like a cringy teenager, wanting to punch a wall, ro drive a car way too fast (as if he didn’t already do that for a living), or… no. He couldn’t go there. He couldn’t indulge his most unhealthy coping mechanism. Not now.

But he felt all the blood rush down south at even the mere thought of the last time he had you in his driver’s room. 

No. No, no, he said to himself again and again. You had said no sex. He didn’t want you to feel used. But just the memory of your mouth on him, the curves of your body underneath his own, was enough to rile him up.

There were too many people outside. He could hear their voices outside the door. The whole damn country of Monaco was too small; there was nowhere to hide from his urges, or from you, for that matter.

Not that he usually wanted to. But he had a little problem to take care of.

His phone buzzed. A text from you. 

Where are you?

What was he supposed to say? Hiding from you, because I’m so stupidly aggravated and horny that I can’t even be around you for fear of ruining our friendship?

He let out an angry groan into a pillow to muffle his frustrations. It wasn’t just the physical aspect that he missed; he missed your warmth, the comforting weight of you beside him in the bed, the tentative way you were always just an arm length’s close, never more, never less.

He should have held you. He should have made you feel loved and not used. It haunted him every day. And yes, he was paying the price for it.

“Congrats on pole, man!” he heard, the voice clear enough to indicate that someone was outside his door.

“Thanks,” Lando’s voice replied, before he heard the familiar sound of the door around the corner opening and closing. 

Yeah, he was definitely paying the price.

Oscar contemplated not going back to your place tonight. 

He still had a few days where he could sleep in his old apartment before the sale fully went through. On one hand, the place was empty and quiet, devoid of life and love. He’d be alone with his thoughts—for better or worse.

On the other hand, he didn’t think he’d be able to sleep anywhere except your bed or couch. He had gotten too used to the familiarity of your apartment. And he wanted to savor every second of you living in Monaco, before your inevitable departure. 

He finally decided against a night of solitude. By the time he finally left the circuit, you were nearly ready to go to bed.  

“Jesus, Osc, where have you been?” you asked, and you tried to ignore how his eyes traced the bare skin of your thighs in your sleep shorts.

“At the track,” he said.

“Well, no shit,” you said, “but no one could find you. I texted you and you never responded.”

“Sorry,” he said. “Quali was just…shit.”

He seemed reluctant to answer where he had actually been, so you didn’t press the issue, but you couldn’t ignore the elephant in the room much longer. 

“I’m sorry,” you said. You sat on your couch next to him, where Oscar had his head buried in his hands. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just a headache.”

“I can get you—” 

“I’m fine,” he said again, this time quicker and more dismissive. 

“Osc…”

“I just wanna go to bed,” he whispered.

“Okay,” you said. “You can take the bed tonight.”

It broke your heart to see him so down. Things were nearly as bad as when Lily had first left him. It scared you—there was only one way that you were able to really help him in that scenario, and you couldn’t go there.

“Just let me grab my phone charger,” you said, getting up to go to the room. He followed you, walking like a zombie. When you turned to leave, he moved to let you walk past, then sat on the bed, hunched over. 

You stopped in the doorway, looking him up and down.  

He looked up at you, locking eyes, and it took everything in you not to scoop him up in your arms and kiss him. He looked so…pathetic, sad, something you couldn’t quite name.

You really needed to find a new apartment soon. Or kick him out. 

You couldn’t do either.

Amongst the many things you could not do was sleep. It was 3 in the morning. Against your better judgement, you slipped into your room, praying that Oscar was still asleep.

You just wanted to see him. To gaze upon his face, smoothed with rest, imbued with the peace of sleep despite the stress of the day. Maybe when he was asleep, you could really pretend that none of this had ever happened. 

As you softly slipped next to him under the covers, his eyelids fluttered open and met yours.

“You can’t sleep either?” he softly whispered, to which you shook your head. You adjusted, rolling over to your side to face him, curling up into the blankets as cozy as you could get. His eyes never left your form. 

Neither of you knew what to do. You felt like strangers.

You had been avoiding any real discussions like the plague. But seeing him now, so vulnerable, you finally broke. “Will you tell me what’s wrong?” you whispered.

“I don’t want to argue,” he replied.

“We won’t. I’ll listen, I promise.”

His eyes drafted down to your lips, then back up to your eyes to meet your gaze. You both knew what was going unsaid. But still he spoke, saying, “I’m lonely. I miss Lily and I miss you. I know that I did this, and that’s why it hurts even more. And I’m so scared of losing you forever.”

His eyes welled up with tears as he continued. “I don’t like this,” he said. “Feeling so far from you, feeling like strangers. I wish I could have shown you how I felt earlier. I wish I didn’t hurt you and drive you away. And I know it’s all my fault. But it hurts.”

“Oscar…” you began, reaching up to brush his hair out of his eyes. But the words didn’t find you. 

“The championship is all I have left, and I can’t even focus because of fucking Lando. And I’m scared that he’s up to something and that he’s going to hurt you too, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”

“There is something…odd about him,” you said. “I get what you mean.”

“Can I ask you something?” Oscar said, and you nodded. “Does he make you happy?”

“It’s not like that,” you replied. “It’s… I don’t know, like a back and forth. I don’t know what his aim is. It feels like a game. But it kind of scares me.”

“Then why do you keep talking to him?”

“I don’t know.” That was a lie. You did know. “I guess because I feel like I can’t talk to you.”

Oscar bit the inside of his cheek. He understood what you meant. That didn’t mean that it wasn’t like a knife to the chest.

“It’s not…like this. I know we can talk like this. But it’s…” you stopped, swallowing hard. You had to say it. Somebody had to say it. 

Maybe you’d regret it in the morning. But you couldn’t stop now. 

“It’s like…” you began, choosing your words carefully, “I wanted you for so long. And then I had you, but it…it wasn’t right.” Your eyes drifted downward, tracing the soft sliver of light that rested on Oscar’s exposed arms. “I don’t know how not to want. But I can’t want you anymore. Because now I can have you too easily.”

“I don’t understand,” he said. 

“Yes, you do,” you responded. “You said it the other day. We both want it. But we can’t do it right.”

You spoke around the issue, carefully tiptoeing around the discussion of…desire? Lust? Wanting, you had called it. Every word you had said was true. He had felt it earlier in the day. You were feeling it too. 

He could change everything. He could just reach out his hand and touch you. But he was frozen, and so were you. 

“What’s so wrong about it?” he asked. 

“You didn’t touch me like you loved me. You hurt me. And I loved the way it hurt. But…”

“I’ll make love to you right now if you’ll let me. I’d do it right, show you how I really feel.”

The air around you was electric with intensity, like the very first night that he touched you. In the same darkness, you had finally gotten what you so desperately wanted. And you could have it now, if not for one thing.

“I know you would,” you whispered, “and you don’t even know how badly I want it. But… what about her?”

“Her?” he asked, confused.

“Lily.”

The silence that filled the room was heavy, and it threatened to suffocate both of you.

“Lily left you. Because of me,” you said.

“Because Lando was putting thoughts in her head.”

“Thoughts that weren’t far off the truth.”

“So, what? You’re going to deny yourself what you always wanted, for years, because she was here first? Because I fucked up?”

Oscar’s wording made it sound so trivial. And truthfully, you had been there first. 

“How did you feel when you first saw Lando talk to me?” you asked. 

“Pissed. Like I wanted to run him off the track.”

“That’s how Lily felt for years. And she didn’t say anything, and we lied to her and to ourselves until the very end.”

“It’s not the same, though. You know that.”

“The details don’t matter. What matters is that the guilt is eating me alive. I feel like I’m drowning. Even if things between us were better…I don’t want to do that to her.”

“What if she never forgives us? Are you just going to let that ruin our friendship?”

You looked away from him, unable to handle the intensity of his gaze. You couldn’t answer his question.

“I feel like,” you said, “whatever Lando is up to, I know it’s not good, but I deserve it. I deserve him.”

“That’s the most stupid logic I’ve ever heard.” Oscar replied. You laughed. Oscar didn’t. 

He reached out and touched your cheek, causing your eyes to dart back to his. No matter how badly you wanted to avoid him, you couldn’t look away from his gaze that pierced right through you. He saw something deeper. He saw you, in a way no one else could or would. And it was terrifying. 

“YN,” he whispered. “Forget what everyone else said, forget all the messy feelings. What do you want?”

I want you.

That’s what you would have said, if you were not a coward, if you could truly let him in and even try to imagine a world in which your emotions and desires didn’t feel like an ocean that you were close to drowning in. 

“I don’t know,” you replied. That was a lie. You knew it. He knew it. He knew that you knew that he knew it. He just looked at you, biting the inside of his cheek. You wouldn’t admit it. Not after everything that had happened.

In that way, things had gone back to normal.

You turned over to stretch, seeing the first rays of sunlight tinge your window the slightest shade of pink.

“We should get some sleep. Goodnight, Oscar,” you said, pulling the blanket higher and closing your eyes for a brief sleep.

Come the next morning—really, only a few hours later—Oscar’s anger from the previous day had faded to a depression.  All he wanted was for you to hold him, or for him to hold you, but your words still hung heavy in the air. 

This was your punishment, for both of you. 

But by the time he finally dragged himself out of the warm comfort of your bed, you were already nearly ready to head out the door.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” you joked, reaching your hand up to tousle his already messy hair, and he melted into the touch. “Are you ready to show them all the Piastri overtake masterclass?” 

“I feel dead,” he mumbled, and you sighed. 

“I’m sorry for keeping you up.”

“It’s okay,” he said, as he yawned into a cup of coffee. “I’m glad we talked.”

Oscar’s reference brought forth an awkward silence that didn’t dissipate until you eventually left for the track, ready again to dawn your thin veneer of professionalism. 

Unfortunately it was raining, and the race had to be delayed. That meant hunkering down in the McLaren garage with Oscar—and Lando.

If looks could kill, Lando would have died ten times over as the two drivers waited for the rain to pass. 

You hovered near Oscar’s side of the garage for the sake of appearances. At least, that’s what you told yourself. You were his social media manager, it made sense for you to hover around him, always ready to capture the next candid shot.

But truthfully, you couldn’t shake the pit in the feeling of your stomach every time you caught Lando looking at you from the corner of your eye. And while you pretended to be oblivious, Oscar didn’t. 

“Okay guys, clear out the garage,” you heard from across the room, as the booming voice of Zak Brown trudged his way inside. “FIA decided that right now was the perfect time for a surprise inspection!”

His voice dripped with sarcastic annoyance, even more than his clothes dripped with rainwater. All non essential personnel—including drivers—needed to leave the garage at once.

You walked along, on your way to find a random spot in the paddock to hunker down. That was, until you felt a hand on your shoulder. 

“YN!” Lando called, smiling when you turned to greet him. His cheeky grin brought butterflies and nausea to your stomach. “You can warm up in my driver’s room if you want.”

You looked over Lando’s shoulder and locked eyes with Oscar, who was close enough to hear every word. If he had been in his car at the time, Lando would have been roadkill.

“Oh, thanks, but I’ve got to get to the paddock and make sure the new guy hasn’t drowned our camera,” you said, a polite and professional smile across your face. 

“No wor—” He was cut off by Oscar’s shoulder bumping into the Brit as he passed. “Oh, hi Oscar, my bad.”

“I should go,” you said, swiftly continuing in the path towards the paddock. You didn’t want to be around for what you knew was happening next.

But if Lando also knew, it didn’t dissuade him from following Oscar back to his driver’s room. 

“Go away, Lando,” the Aussie warned as he stomped down the hallway.

“No, I don’t think I will. I think you’ve got something to say to me.” 

“I think you should shut your fucking mouth and leave YN and I alone.” 

Lando ran ahead of him, blocking the door to Oscar’s driver room. “Why? Why should I leave her alone when she keeps telling me yes, hm?”

“What?”

“I’m just saying, if she really wanted me to leave her alone, she wouldn’t have agreed to go to dinner with me tonight, would she?”

Oscar was dumbfounded by Lando’s claim, and his first instinct was to refute it. But after the conversation last night, he couldn’t put it past you to have accepted his offer of a date. Why you did this, he didn’t know. He couldn’t understand how you let your guilt lead you to such self-sabotaging decisions.

Actually, he could. It wasn’t like he was any better.

“You’re taking advantage of her,” Oscar said, his voice stern. “You don’t love her.”

Lando laughed. “Of course I don’t. She knows it, though. Do you really think she’s that stupid? Well, I guess she kind of is, ‘cause she’s playing right into my hands even though I know she doesn’t trust me. ”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because I know it fucks with your head and drives you insane. No matter what you tell her, she won't listen to you. That’s the funniest part. She knows you’re right and she’s going to do the worst possible thing anyway, because she thinks she’s so self-righteous. It’s hilarious. You can tell her every word I say and that won’t stop her from being right where I want her. So you'll just get to watch me use her until she's got nothing else to give me.”

Oscar crossed the short distance between them and grabbed Lando by the shirt. “I swear to God, if you hurt her, I will run you off the track until you're nothing but a spare car part.”

Lando laughed again at his teammate’s warning. “Why are you so mad? I'm not doing anything worse than what you did.”

Oscar released him. “That is not what happened between us,” he sneered.

Lando continued, "You’re right. I guess I'm actually better than you, because I'm not fucking her. Well, not yet at least. I get it, though. I mean, she's not really good enough to bring home to mum, no? But I bet she's a good lay. Guess I’ll find out soon enough.”

“Get the fuck away from me, Lando. And leave her the fuck alone.” 

“Oh don't worry, I'm leaving,” the Brit said, putting his hands in the air in mock surrender. “Just tell YN to wear something nice tonight for me, will you?”

Lando finally turned to leave, but couldn’t resist one last quip at Oscar. “You know, last season, Max taught me something really smart. To win, you can't just outdrive someone. You have to get in their head. Works pretty well, don't you think?”

“Get the fuck out, Lando, before I hurt you,” Oscar threatened, truly at the end of his rope.

Lando just laughed as he finally walked away, turning the corner and going into his own driver’s room. 

Oscar did the same, taking a deep breath when he finally closed the door. He needed to punch something. He needed to scream. He could do neither.

But that wasn’t the worst problem at hand. He knew Lando was right, about everything. And it terrified him.

He had to find some way to prevent you from going on that date. But how? Was there anything he could say that could prevent what his own failures had set in motion so long ago?

There was a knock at his door. It was a McLaren engineer, telling him it was time to come back to the garage. He had wasted so much time bickering with Lando that he couldn't get his headspace right for the race.

God, he was good at this. 

Oscar made his way back to the garage and locked eyes with you. You had looked over your shoulder, still preoccupied with the new guy and his inability to work a camera. You held Oscar’s gaze for a second too long. 

He made his way over to you. “Hey, YN,” he said, “why don’t you get some rain shots before we have to go back out?”

Oscar was never the type to tell you how to do your job, unlike his teammate, who often jokingly ordered you around like his personal photographer. You recognized his attempt to get you away from the new guy.

You stepped away and brought your camera back up to your eye, taking a gorgeous picture of Oscar’s side profile looking at the rain outside. His hair was perfectly tousled, his jawline perfectly sharp, his cheeks shaded a perfect pink, still flustered from the conversation you knew nothing of. Even after being his friend for so many years, and admiring him for so long, it was moments like this when you were truly reminded how much you loved him.

Because just as Oscar saw you, you saw him. You saw through his carefully crafted exterior; truthfully, as his best friend and social media manager, you had been instrumental in making it. When others saw him as unemotional, you saw the small nuances in how he moved and spoke, the subtle changes in expression. You two had your own language in that way, and your devotion showed itself in moments like these, where you could capture the most beautiful photographs of your friend, letting the world have just a brief glimpse into the complex soul that you had become so enraptured by.

Yeah, you were fucked. 

Oscar finally put on his helmet and began to get ready to roll the car out to the grid. 

“Good luck,” you whispered. You reached out your hand and intertwined it with his, squeezing it as an act of comfort. Even through the rough material of his gloves, you hoped to send him a real message of love. 

Maybe that was too strong a word. You couldn’t tell anymore. 

Though you followed both cars out to the now dry grid, you kept your distance, knowing that now the focus was on the monumental race ahead of them. You let the camera be your shield against emotion, though you couldn’t help how it focused in on Oscar so easily. Even from afar, his eyes quickly glancing at your lens could tell you depths of information. 

At the front of the grid, Lando occasionally looked back on you. He was ready to go, determined to win this race; Oscar was no longer a threat, in the back of the grid and distracted beyond measure. 

But the Brit couldn’t help being distracted a bit himself. You weren’t looking at him. You were pulling away a bit too much for comfort. 

It doesn’t matter now, he thought to himself. He knew you. Not in the deep way that Oscar did, but still enough to know exactly what buttons to push, when to give and when to pressure. It was a skill that he’d come to refine in the past few years, fighting not only against world-class athletes, but also against master manipulators, for the Formula 1 World Driver’s Championship title.

He never thought he’d have to play this dirty to eliminate a teammate. But so far, it was working like a charm, and at this point, there wasn’t much he was above doing to get that title.

Unfortunately, Lando’s ambitions couldn’t keep up with his abilities. He bottled pole at the start and wasn’t able to recover. 

Oscar had a few overtakes, but not anything spectacular. Monaco would not be a race to remember for McLaren that year. 

After getting all your shots of Oscar in the garage after the race, you made your way back to your apartment. You had to get ready for your date with Lando that night.

You had never been the type to have a very strong intuition. You could never distinguish it from anxiety or paranoia. But you couldn’t ignore that pit in the bottom of your stomach that just grew and grew, devouring all your thoughts as you fixed your hair and applied your makeup. 

In the middle of your beauty routine, Oscar came home, exhausted from the race.

“You did great out there today,” you said, giving him a small smile as he flopped down on the bed.”

“I barely got points,” he said.

“Yeah, but it’s a track that’s awful for overtaking and you were going on, what, 2 or 3 hours of sleep? Take the small wins where you can.”

“How are you not exhausted?” he questioned, sitting up to watch you apply your skincare at your vanity.

I feel like my heart is going to beat out of my chest, that’s why, you thought. But for some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to confide your anxieties to Oscar right now.

You knew why. Because you knew that he could change it. He could convince you to give in to your desires, to drown in him. And you couldn’t. You were too goddamned stubborn.

You didn’t answer Oscar’s question, and that familiar heavy feeling dawned in your room.

“Can I tell you something?” he asked. Neither of you really had the energy for talking, but you knew it was more a statement than a request. “I talked to Lando today.”

Ah, so he knew what you were doing. 

“He said some…really messed up stuff about you, YN. He doesn't care about you.”

“I know he doesn’t,” you said, your voice flat and quiet.

“It’s more than that. YN, the things he said disgusted me, and he laughed about it like it was the funniest thing. Please don’t do this.”

“Don’t, Oscar.”

“YN—”

You got up and walked into your closet to get dressed for the night, cutting him off. 

You heard him sigh, and the sound of ruffling clothing filled the room as you both changed out of eye shot of each other. The thought of Oscar undressed in your bed again made your head spin.

You snaked the fabric of the dress over your skin, smoothing it out. You put on your shoes and grabbed your purse before taking a deep breath and stepping out.

“How do I look?” you asked. But you were distracted by a shirtless Oscar sitting on your bed, muscles still taunt from the race hours before.

“Beautiful,” he said. “You’re perfect.”

His voice was too tender, his words too strong. You couldn’t bear it for much longer. You shuffled around your room, organizing your makeup and applying your perfume, trying to distract yourself from the elephant—or rather, shirtless F1 driver that you were in love with—in the room.

“I’m not sure what time I’ll be—”

“YN,” Oscar said, standing up to place himself in front of you, between you and the door. “Don’t do this.”

“Oscar…” you began.

“You don’t have to do this. Stay here with me.” he advanced towards you, closing the gap by placing his hands on your waist.

Your heart skipped a beat. The thin line that had so carefully been drawn after his apology was gone now with his sensual touch.

You looked away from him. He reached up and grabbed your chin, forcing your eyes to look up at his.

“You don’t have to go to him. You don’t have to leave Monaco or find another job. You don’t have to do any of this. YN, let me take care of you.”

Instinctively, you reached your hand out to rest against his bare chest, and you felt his breath hitch. You were going to give in, right here and now.

And God, you wanted to. You missed the warmth of Oscar’s body against yours, the liminal space he occupied in your bed after a night of collision and pleasure. And in that moment, with his soft heart beat and the steady rhythm of his breaths right under your fingertips, you felt…safe. At home. Seen.

Your phone buzzed in your purse. 

“I’m going to be late,” you muttered, stepping back and walking around him.  He let you go easily.

“Get some rest, Oscar,” you told him, a final goodbye, or at least that’s how it felt, as you closed the door behind you and left to go meet Lando. 

[scoupsakakitty]

Betrayal Under The Stage Lights pt.2 | Seventeen x 14thMember | fluff

The room remained silent long after Y/N left. The weight of their words, their accusations, lingered in the air like an unshakable storm cloud. No one dared to speak, no one wanted to admit what they all began to realize their mistake.

Mingyu ran a frustrated hand through his hair, the guilt settling deep in his chest. “We messed up, didn’t we?”

Jihoon exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “No, we didn’t just mess up. We completely turned on her without thinking.”

Joshua sat down heavily on the couch, rubbing his face with his hands. “We should have listened. We should have trusted her.”

Seungcheol, usually so sure of his decisions, felt a rare sense of self-doubt gnawing at him. His mind replayed the scene over and over Y/N’s devastated expression, her voice laced with desperation as she defended herself. And they had ignored it.

“She must hate us now,” Seokmin mumbled, voice barely above a whisper.

Jeonghan, for once, had no witty remark, no clever way to deflect the situation. Instead, he sighed deeply. “We need to fix this.”

Y/N sat alone in her room, the echoes of their accusations still fresh in her mind. She wanted to be angry. She wanted to scream, to lash out, to make them feel even a fraction of what she had felt. But more than anything, she just felt… tired.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. At first, she ignored it, expecting them to give up. But the knocking persisted. With an annoyed sigh, she stood up and pulled the door open only to find all thirteen members standing outside, looking uncharacteristically sheepish.

Mingyu, standing in the front, suddenly dropped to his knees. “Y/N, I was an idiot. No—worse than an idiot. I don’t even have a word for how dumb I was. Please, please forgive me.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, arms crossed. “You’re really kneeling?”

“Yes,” Mingyu said without hesitation. “I’ll stay here all night if I have to.”

Seungcheol cleared his throat, stepping forward. “We all made a huge mistake. We let frustration cloud our judgment, and we blamed you without any proof. That was wrong. You didn’t deserve that.”

“We should have believed in you,” Joshua added, his usual warmth returning to his voice. “You’re our family.”

One by one, they all spoke up, each admitting their faults, each apologizing sincerely. Even Jihoon, who rarely showed emotions so openly, muttered, “I was too quick to judge. I’m sorry.”

Y/N took her time, letting them squirm under her scrutiny. She could see the genuine regret on their faces, the desperation in their eyes. And a wicked idea formed in her mind.

She sighed dramatically, placing a hand on her hip. “I don’t know… maybe I should just leave the group.”

The reaction was immediate.

“What?!”

“No, no, no!”

“Y/N, please, don’t even joke about that!”

Seungkwan looked ready to burst into tears. “I swear, if this is because of us—”

“I’ll do anything!” Mingyu pleaded. “I’ll cook for you for a year! I’ll do your laundry! I’ll—”

Y/N burst into laughter, unable to hold back any longer. “Relax, I was just messing with you.”

The collective groan that followed was almost comical. Seungcheol placed a hand over his heart, exhaling in relief. “Don’t do that! I nearly had a heart attack.”

Jeonghan narrowed his eyes. “You’re evil.”

Y/N smirked. “That’s what you get for doubting me.”

Despite their moment of panic, the mood shifted almost instantly. Hoshi pulled Y/N into a bone-crushing hug, and soon, the others piled on, a mess of tangled limbs and relieved laughter.

“Still mad at us?” Vernon asked as they finally pulled away.

Y/N rolled her eyes but smiled. “I should be. But I guess I’ll forgive you guys. Just this once.”

They all cheered, and for the first time that night, everything felt right again.

“Well… on one condition,” Y/N added, crossing her arms. “I want my favorite ice cream.”

Without hesitation, Dino shot up. “I got it! I’ll get it right now!” And before anyone could react, he was already sprinting out the door.

The others laughed, shaking their heads as they watched him go. Finally, things were back to normal.

[milla-frenchy]

Shameless

3k1 | Lucien de Leon x fem reader | ao3 | masterlist

Summary: you ask Lucien to come over and he does exactly what you need him to Warnings: 18+ mdni. Oral (f/m), size kink, cigarettes, rimming, ass play, piv, creampie, pet names (baby, baby girl), reader has no specific physical descriptions but wears a dress

a/n:  Thank you for the inspo @gothcsz 🙏❤️ (tumblr free Kat FFS§§§) Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing and for everything, ily so, so much 🥹💕 @/saradika-graphics for the dividers 🙏

“Come on baby, don't play like this now,” he said, full of self-confidence, leaning against the wall in front of your door in his stupid shirt. The mountain of shit he had been dragging behind him for years had never damage his self-esteem.

“I don’t know why I keep calling you,” you said, bitter and unfair towards him. “Every time I regret it. Before or after I fuck you.”

“Mmmm… So you regret it now? You want me to leave? Ok,” he added, turning around, before you could even answer.

“Fuck, wait, Lucien!”

He didn't hide his smile as he turned around. 

“See, baby? That's your problem, you always push people away. You're scared to be loved. And that's why you always call me.”

“Yeah, right. And you’re perfect for that, because love’s not your thing.”

He leaned against the wall again, a soft smile on his lips.

 “You think that? But who's gonna love you like I do, baby?”

“And how do you love me?”

“My way,” he said, coming closer to you, a cigarette resting behind his ear. This motherfucker was the hottest man you knew. The biggest red flag you’d ever met.

“You always say you wanna be good but you keep begging me to come over,” he said, moving closer to you, his face only a few inches away from yours. Damn, you just wanted to kiss him. To fuck him.

“Because no one can touch you like me, that deep,” he added, brushing your lips with his before pulling away.

“I’m not just talking about here,” he said, pointing at  your heart with his finger. “But also here,” he added, grabbing your pussy. “You need me. No one can fuck you like me. That deep, right?”

You swallowed loudly. Fuck, you needed him, deep and rough. He probably saw it in your eyes, but instead of leaning in and kissing you, he grabbed his cigarette and lit it. He smiled as he let the smoke out.

“Come on baby, don't give me that ‘piss off’ look. I’m gonna give you what you want,” he said, pressing his hard cock against the fabric of his black pants and pushing himself against you. He turned the cigarette over to offer it to you, and you took a drag.

“Yeah, whatever,” you said.

“Had some good dicks in the last few weeks?”

“Fucked a few. Can’t say they were that good, though.”

“Awww,” he said dramatically, before adding, “you fucked them raw? Do I have to use a condom, baby?”

“No. You’re the only dick that I fuck raw.”

He chuckled and threw his cigarette on the ground. You rolled your eyes and in two seconds he was fully against you, crushing his lips against yours, his hands cupping your cheeks.

He was never aggressive or possessive, always beautifully sensual and free. No strings attached, and that's exactly what you needed. Someone who wouldn't ask you something you couldn't or wouldn't want to give.

Each time he’d kiss you, each time you’d fuck, you never knew if it was the last time. Didn't know if you'd end up getting bored with him like with everyone else. 

You doubted he would, on the other hand. He was always patient, never seemed to take your mood swings badly. He never said ’no’ to you, even if he knew you just needed to use him, somehow. Even if you were sometimes hard on him. 

He was probably right: he loved you in his own, unconventional way, and that twisted relationship was oddly the most stable part of your life.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked as he kissed your neck, your eyes already rolling to the back of your head just at the feeling of his soft mustache brushing your skin, then his rougher beard that he loved to rub against the soft skin of your neck. Just like he loved to graze it against your inner thighs each time he ate you out.

He straightened up to look at you then licked your lips with the tip of his tongue, your mind suddenly blank.

“Need it bad, huh,” he chuckled. It wasn’t a question. Yeah, you needed it bad, but still, you shrugged.

“Come on baby, let me in,” he said against your lips, his familiar tobacco breath invading your nostrils a little more. “And I'm not talking about your cunt, she’s already droolin’, right?”

You didn’t answer and just pulled away from him to lead the way inside your house, to the dining room. You could feel his eyes fixed on your ass. You didn't even have to sway your hips to know he'd follow you anywhere at that moment.

He pushed the front door behind him, quickening his pace to be right behind you and caress the roundness of your ass before seizing your hips to make you stop.

“Mmmm, baby… I never get enough of this body,” he murmured in your ear, his hard cock against you. You wanted to say something clever, or at least something with your usual “whatever” attitude, but his touch was overwhelming you.

He slid his hands up to your breasts and cupped them sensually, his nose against your hair, he breathed it in as he said, “damn you’re so hot,” almost to himself. 

He squeezed your breasts slightly, perfectly, then pulled down your neckline, freeing your nipples swollen by desire. His hand slithered down your spine to your ass and then he grabbed his bulge.

“Shit, I’m so fucking hard,” he said, his voice not as playful as usual. “Turn around baby,” he added. You did as he asked, trying to get your composure back as you looked up at him.

He cupped your tits again and took a nipple in his mouth. He sucked and licked it, making you whine “shit” softly, as you ran your fingers in his hair and pressed his face against your skin. He chuckled, so sure of himself, that he was even hotter than a second before, and sucked your other nipple. He coated it with his saliva then peppered your chest with kisses, up towards your neck and finally your lips, his tongue quickly pushed through yours, while he grabbed the hem of your short dress then pulled it over your head. He was in a rush and your head was dizzy.

His hands were rubbing your body as if he didn't know what to touch or where to stop, but he finally covered your pussy with his full hand, his fingers brushing the wet garment.

“Mmm yeah…” he said, and you didn’t take your eyes off him as he unbuttoned his shirt then freed his hard cock from his pants. The most gorgeous cock you'd ever seen, with a fat tip and a large vein that you loved to roll under your tongue.

“Come on, baby. I’ve been thinking about fucking your mouth since you called me,” he said, slowly jacking his thick cock with his fist, his stare full of lust. 

He was insanely beautiful and hot as hell, with his shirt open over his broad chest, two chains resting at the bottom of his neck. 

“Yeah? Well I’ve been thinking about cumming in yours since I called you,” you replied.

“Damn, you’re gonna kill me one day, you know that?” he smiled. 

“Mmm… clothes off, red flag guy,” you told him, then sat on the couch, feet firmly planted on the ground, legs spread. Shameless. 

Panties still on, you knew he loved to remove them himself. 

“And light me a cigarette, big boy, will you?”

You were in charge again. He was letting you be. 

A silent game between the two of you with rules that never needed to be stated.

He took his pack out of his shirt pocket and lit a cigarette then handed it to you, letting the smoke escape from him towards you. Then he undressed, slowly and sensually.

You watched him getting naked in front of you, dragging on your cigarette from time to time, arm resting along the backrest. He always made you feel safe, free, powerful.

He remained standing for a few moments, looking at you like you were the most beautiful woman in the world. His hard cock pointed towards the ceiling, slowly jacking off again after spitting into his palm. Even though the precum was flowing from his reddened slit.

He knelt down and placed his hands on your knees before moving up the inside of your thighs, the soft rub making you shiver. When he grabbed the hem of your panties, you lifted your hips to help him to pull them down slowly, revealing your glistening pussy and the butt plug you had inserted just before he arrived.

“Shit, baby…” his husky voice and eyes full of desire made you drool a little more. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

“Fuck… Take a drag, baby,” he asked, unable to take his eyes off your two holes. He spread your thighs wider by pushing on them with his shoulders. You exhaled the blue smoke slowly, looking down at him, kneeling between your thighs. So broad, so strong, but still at your knees, leaving you in full control of your femininity. It made him even more beautiful, even more attractive, even more sensual. He grabbed one of your thighs and kissed the sensitive skin, then placed it on his shoulder.

“Fuck you're so hot. A true free spirit, aren't you?”

He didn't let you answer and leaned down, running his nose up your folds. He growled as he licked them with the tip of his tongue, then moved away slightly to look at your cunt and ass.

He seized the plug and pulled on it slightly, until the widest part reached your ring, making you moan.

“Shit,” he said, unable to say more as he watched your muscle tighten every time the metal spread it apart.

“You always let them go down on you?” he asked, moving the plug deliciously back and forth, before sticking his tongue into your wet cunt. You let your head fall back against the back of the couch. He had always been a really good fuck, but he always ate you out divinely well, leaving you breathless as soon as he dived in.

“Mmm?” he insisted.

“Shit… you’re the jealous type now?” you pantered.

“No. It turns me on to think about it,” he answered, grabbing one of your breasts with his hands.

“Damn, Lucien you're twisted…” you whimpered. “Not always… shit… I… not all men are good at it,” you stammered. 

He chuckled, so sure of himself, pushing a finger into your cunt already stuffed by his tongue. It was like he was all over your body, boobs, pussy and ass, and it was intoxicating.

“I think you forgot about your cig, baby,” he said, teasing. He wasn't one of those men. Of course he wasn't. He was so good at this. 

You crushed the cigarette in the ashtray by the armrest. He was so good that sometimes he would make you come in less time than it took you to finish your cig. Then he’d grab it from your trembling fingers to take a drag while you were still trying to catch your breath. 

His hand left your tit to press your hip against the sofa and he pushed his tongue into your drooling hole. 

“Gonna come for me? Yeah, you're gonna come for me. Soak my face, baby girl.”

You used him to get off, rubbing yourself against his nose, hands tight on his head, thighs spread as wide as possible, giving him full access to your core. You were so aroused that some of your wetness was leaking down to the plug, making it even easier for him to fuck you with it.

“Lucien,” you whined. His hand tightened on your flesh, letting you use him like you needed until you came in his mouth.

He pushed two fingers in your cunt and looked the way your body was squeezing his thick digits pumping your cunt and the plug, until it finally stopped. 

He pushed the metal all the way in then stood up and brushed your cheek as you looked up at him and straightened up, his cock inches from your lips. He held it tightly and you licked his shaft from his fingers to his tip, unable to tease him more. He growled when you took him in your mouth, focusing on the tip at first then deeper and deeper, getting your throat used to his width, and your saliva started to flow down his shaft to his fingers. Your hand caressed his balls full of cum.

“Fuck yeah, just like that,” he murmured.

You pushed his hand from his shaft and jerked him off slowly, licking his balls that you could never resist for long. He whimpered when you took one of them in your mouth, the thin skin rolling between your lips. 

“You're so easy, Lucien,” you chuckled. It was your turn to make him fall apart, and you loved it.

“Shit, yeah, I'm easy with this damn mouth,” he agreed. “That’s it baby. Keep licking them.”

You pulled them up then tasted the skin behind them, gaze looking up at him but his eyes were closed, his hands resting on your head.

“You don’t want a cigarette, Lucien?” you bantered, then licked him again from his scrotum to his ass that you teased with the tip of your tongue.

“Fuck… I can barely breathe, no I can’t smoke right now, you little minx,” he whimpered as you took a ball in your mouth. You finally released it with a needy moan. Your core was already filled with warmth again and begging for release. 

“Shit, you need it deep, right? Wanna ride it?” he asked as he held your elbow to get you up.

“No, want you to fuck me.”

“Come here then, baby. All fours. Lemme see that ass.”

You settled and he knelt behind you, rubbing his cock against your soaked folds, before grabbing the plug and pulling on it slightly, making your ring contract instinctively as it was stretching you.

He chuckled, then mocked gently, “that’s cute. As if he doesn’t want to get fucked.” He nestled his fat tip at your sloppy pussy then pushed in, and you stopped breathing for a minute under the feeling of his cock splitting you in two.

“How do you need me, baby? Need me to fix you up for a while, until next time?”

You moaned, feeling him push in your two holes.

“Tell me,” he insisted, filling you with his whole length and brushing against your cervix.

“Yeah, fuck…. Yeah, I need you to fix me.”

“Damn, baby,” he said, pulling out to eat your pussy from behind, and he removed the plug to press his nose against your ass before coming up to lick it.

“Oh god,” you whined, eyes rolling in the back of your head and fists squeezing the sofa cushions. He spat on your ass and watched the saliva run down and slide inside before licking at it, pressing his tongue against it then pushing in. Your ass opened up to let him reach inside and you couldn’t hold back a loud moan as he was lapping at your hole.

He spanked you and focused his tongue on your most private place before grabbing your ass with his two hands. You wanted to beg him to stuff you until he’d fill you with his seed. 

“Lucien, please… Fuck me.”

He straightened up and pressed his tip against your cunt, pushing in slowly to let you feel all of him sliding in.

“Oh, fuck,” you whined.

Leaning on your forearms, you didn't move, letting him thrust into you, filling you so slowly that you could feel the vein of his cock brushing your insides.

“Oh, god, that’s good Lucien, fuck…”

“Yeah? Always takin’ me so good, baby…”

He started to fuck you, his thumb pressed against your ass, growls and moans escaping from his lips. He was watching you contract on his digit as he was filling your two holes. 

“Mmm,” you hummed. “Harder, please,” you whined.

You knew he would do it for you, in the way you needed, even though you knew he would want to take his time, to get you used to him. But he had quickly understood why you called him. Because he would answer your needs, because you were safe with him. Because his cock was so big it was perfect for what you were looking for, to forget everything else. He knew you were scared to be loved, or to love, and didn't want that kind of relationship. That this way of fucking was what you needed. For now anyway, and maybe forever. He always smiled when you called him a red flag, unaware of that game he was still playing for you. He could find it funny, how wrapped he was around your finger, although you didn't even know it. Or maybe you just didn't want to see it.

He was rolling into you, faster than he wanted. Harder than he wanted. Because if it was the only way he could have you, he would never say no. Because he knew you wouldn’t fall for him, and it was probably for the best.

“Fuck, baby… your little cunt is squeezing me so hard… You know I can never say no to you, right?” he asked, sliding his hand down to your clit, eager to make you come. His entire length was pushing in and out, fucking your insides like no one else could. Not as deep, not as wide.

“Make me come, Lucien, please,” you whimpered.

His balls squeezed him painfully, waiting to give you what you wanted. When you came, tightening on his cock so fucking hard, it was enough for him to spit his cum deep into your core while he panted even louder than you, mouth crushed against your shoulder, nibling at it, his weight pushing on your back. You leaned forward and felt his length leave your cunt and his cum flowed when you lay down on the couch, under him. Already feeling so desperately empty.

He leaned towards you and kissed you. He knew you didn't want more, and wouldn't allow more. Didn't want some bullshit proximity.

He sat on the couch, putting your calves on his lap, while you stayed lying there. He lit up a cigarette for you, then another one for him. You smoked them silently until he got up and put his clothes on.

“Till next time?” he asked.

“Till next time,” you replied.

Thank you for reading 🙏

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[madridfangirl]

So near, yet so far

(Jude bellingham blurb. Some fighting, some fluff, some missing each other.)

‘Stop being a baby & pick up the phone.’

Jude searched for his phone blindly when it pinged, while lying face down on a pillow, saw the message from his girlfriend, then put the phone away on the side-table.

She had sent that message after four missed calls throughout. He knew she had seen him online and would have understood that he was avoiding her on purpose.

Good, he wanted her to realise that. After everything she put him through.

The phone rang again, disturbing his sulky mood. He didn’t even look up this time.

‘Fine. Remember this the next time I don’t pick up your call.’

In this department, Jude could dish it out but absolutely could not take it himself. He always went nuts when she even remotely avoided him, following her around like a lost puppy. In fact, their whole fight had started from this.

Ananya was having a super tough day at work yeaterday. She was roped in on a deal last minute and the Managing Directors of their team had to pitch next afternoon. Which meant it was all hands on deck for the whole team. All day and most of that night.

That same day, Jude had a fantastic session at training, scoring bangers for fun, nutmegging teammates like child’s play. Especially Cama - he’d never let the boy live it down. For all his snake like agility, Jude had still managed to nutmeg that silky smooth footballer. And had even secured the video of it, which he had immediately sent to Ananya, along with a few others with his shooting.

Later, Carlo had called him to the side and praised him for his sharpness. He even invited him to accompany Carlo for the next pre-match press conference. It was a big Champions league away night, which meant it was a high-profile presser that Jude was being entrusted with.

It had been a great day overall. Plus he was having a great hair day as well, & took a couple of selfies in the gym (shirtless, sweaty, just what she liked) which had immediately made their way to her inbox as well.

She was supposed to get off work sooner today, given her MDs were due to travel the next day. He had no idea the pitch had to completely be overhauled at the last minute and that she was dying at work while he was having a gala time.

When he didn’t get any response even when he got home in the afternoon, he started to wonder if something was off. If he had missed some important day or did something or said something he wasn’t supposed to. But he couldn’t think of any such thing.

‘Hey, just checking in, all good?’

One hour went by. No response. 

‘I’m home, what time will you get here? Italian is good tonight?’

This was a harmless enough message, or so he thought. 

‘Talk later.’

That was all she had time & energy to type back.

Food was the last thing on her mind when she saw his message. She was surviving on two apples and 5 cups of coffee all day and would probably have to pull an all-nighter by the looks of it, on a day when she was supposed to get done by 6 pm. An anomaly. A massive anomaly in her line of work. But Satan was intent on ruining her happiness. 

Her team was cooped up in the conference room while her MD was on a zoom call from his mansion on the outskirts of the city, spelling out 1000 changes to the formatting while sipping a glass of red wine. 

One day, she’ll get there too. But till then, she had no choice but to slog her ass off. Like the rest of her team.

In the middle of that, her phone kept buzzing. She just put it on silent and threw it in her bag. Her plans for the evening all but forgotten. 

It was 6:30 pm already, and Jude figured she would have left by now. So he made the cardinal sin of calling her, twice. 

‘Are you ok?’

Still no response. 

‘Are you mad at me?’

He started to get worried now. And called Roma. Who was also in the room with Ananya, as frazzled as her friend, as knee deep in work as the rest of them. 

Her phone was on silent too. The executive director absolutely hated any sounds when they were all cooped up together like this.

30 mins later, they finally got up for a pee break, first in over 5 hours. Ananya and Roma rushed to the loo with their bags, looking at their phones at the same time.

5 missed calls, 15 messages between the two of them. All from Jude.

Ananya was furious. She was actually hangry, which made her even more irritated with this. Even her family knew not to bother her when she was having a tough day at work, just one message was enough for them to know she’d be out of reach for a while. Jude knew that too, but still had bombarded the both of them. And what in god’s name was he doing calling Roma? It just made her look stupid in front of her friend. She didn’t like people calling her friends to check in on her, a pet peeve since childhood.

But this boy just didn’t understand.

The said boy happened to call again just then.

‘Yes?’

‘Oh hey - finally. Where were you?’

‘On Mars.’

‘Huh?’

‘Where do you think I could be, Jude? Obviously I’m working.’

‘But, I thought you were getting free early today.’

‘Yeah, not happening.’

‘When you will get done?’

‘No idea. Not anytime soon.’

‘But…we had the whole evening planned, food is also on its way.’

‘Let me go say that to my MD and maybe he’ll let me go’

The crankiness and sarcasm in her voice was increasing with every passing second. And Jude couldn’t help but wonder if it was anything more than work that was causing that.

‘Ok gotta go. Talk to you tomorrow?’

Wait what? So she was seriously not coming home all night?

‘We are travelling for the match tomorrow.’

‘After than then.’

‘International break. This was the last night before I’m on the road for 12 days.’

‘After that then.’

Her voice was curt and her attention was elsewhere, like she was barely even listening to him anymore.

‘Are we good? You’re not mad at me for something?’

‘Oh for the love of god not everything is about you. I’m dying here. DYING. You’re not important right now. I told you I was busy, so pls try to understand.’

Jude was silent. She hadn’t said she was busy. She just said talk later. How was he supposed to decipher this is what she meant? How could she be cross with him for this?

‘Bye now. See you when I see you next.’

‘Bye.’

He stared at his phone long after, and at the screen where a game of FIFA was loaded, waiting for her. The food was on it way too, which he called to cancel immediately.

It was next evening. He was in the team hotel after a long flight. But still, 24 hours later also he was in a pissy mood. 

Ananya had worked all night, came back in the morning, slept for a few hours and was back in office now, on standby while the MD meeting was going on in London.

She finally got some time to focus on her irritated boyfriend, who she was trying to reach for the last 2 hours, and finally sent this message to get his attention.

Silent treatment was beyond his coping ability, they both knew that perfectly well.

‘Sure - be more mean to make up for being mean earlier.’

‘I wasn’t mean to you. I was just busy.’

‘Yeah right.’

‘Jude - I didn’t sleep all night. Didn’t have a proper meal in 24 hours. So of course I was on edge.’

‘You said I wasn’t important to you.’

‘Not important in that moment.’

‘Same thing.’

‘Big difference.’

‘Even after everything you’re still talking to me like this.’

‘How else should I talk?’

‘Like you want to make it up to me?’

‘Make it up to you?’

‘Yes. Massively.’

‘I should make it up to you coz my work is sucking the living life out of me right now? Sure, that makes sense.’

‘You forgot yesterday was the last day we had together in almost 2 weeks.’

‘It was not in my control. What could I have done?’

‘Could have felt bad for not being with me? Like I was feeling bad? Five seconds for that was too much to ask for?’

That made her take a pause. She was still learning to cope with the mad pressure that came on sprints like these, and didn’t always react in the most even-tempered way. Could she have taken a minute to talk to him softly and explain the situation? Possibly yes. But she was still leaning the ropes and all the first-year associates were as frazzled as her. Heck she only had 1 minute for a pee break, which is when she spoke to him. Why couldn’t he understand that pressure, when she understood his work pressures and how the weight of the whole world was on his shoulders at times?

‘You needed to be here to understand what it was like.’

‘Darling - I know what professional stress is.’

‘It’s different for you.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘You are Jude fucking Bellingham.’

‘And don’t you think that means 100x pressure?’

‘No. Because you’re not some first year associate who is expected to work 16 hours a day, 6 days a week with near-perfect output.’

She could hear him breathing heavily at the other end. But he didn’t say anything, neither did she.

This was one of those moments where their crazy schedules got to them. As did the high-pressure of their jobs. For no particular fault of either of them. They were both fiercely ambitious, and driven in their careers. Which meant personal life suffered at times.

Ananya always wondered till what point would this be sustainable. If he’d turn around one fine day and would want more from her. That more was not in her control to give. Unless she sacrifices her dreams.

‘We’re going in circles.’

He broke the eerie silence. Another thing he wasn’t too fond of. Awkward pauses made him uncomfortable.

‘Yes we are.’

‘Did you manage to get some rest?’

‘Slept for a few hours. You?’

Jude was a sound sleeper otherwise but for the life of him could not sleep on a plane well. 

‘A little bit.’

‘Match is day after right? You should get some rest.’

‘Yeah, will crash soon.’

He didn’t want to sleep before talking to her. But he absolutely didn’t want to be the one making the call.

‘The presser was nice.’

‘Hmmm.’

‘Could have smiled a bit more. Your fan pages were waiting for classic Jude happy face.’

‘Nothing to smile about in my life.’

‘Stop being dramatic.’

‘Stop being mean. And stop being so far away.’

The sincerity & longing in his voice melted her on the spot.

‘Babyyy.’

He immediately felt lighter.

‘What I wouldn’t give to hold you right now.’

Sleeping without her being next to him just wasn’t the same anymore. He slept better now when she was in his arms.

‘Me too sweetheart, me too.’

She could use a Jude hug too. Desperately. And a nice, long, peaceful sleep. But no relationship was perfect, this was something they just had to deal with.

‘Say something nice.’

‘I love you my dashing boy.’

‘More.’

‘So cute. So sweet. So sexy.’

‘More.’

‘One of the best players in the world.’

‘One of the best?’

‘Yes. The best midfielder though.’

Jude didn’t push further, knowing this was the best he’d get. She wouldn’t lie when it came to football. Not even to him or for him. This was enough for now.

‘Missing you.’

‘Me too, babu.’

Jude loved it when she used this particular Hindi word of endearment for him, which was the equivalent of baby. She often used many such words when they were snuggled together & she was cooing to him, explaining the meaning of each of them. He understood quite a few by now.

‘I can’t sleep. What do I do?’

‘Keep talking to me. And hug a pillow.’

‘Way ahead of you.’

They both hugged pillows while sleeping now, when they were not next to each other.

‘Now tell me about yesterday.’

Excitement seeped back into his drowsy voice, but the exhaustion was evident. Midway through, he started slurring some words and a few minutes later he was almost asleep, while still mumbling things to her.

‘Honey, put the phone down, turn off the light & get some rest, yeah?’

‘Yeah, ok.’

He mumbled, already near crashing.

‘Sweet dreams.’

‘Mmmm will dream of you, beautiful.’

With that, the phone dropped from his hand, while the lights were still on and the TV was on mute. But it didn’t matter. He got what he needed, so did she.

...........................................................

Wanted to do a realistic comfort fic, for all the madness happening around us.

Hope you liked it! Wrote this in 2 hours so not edited properly.

[wcnderlnds]

last dance | choi seung-hyun (t.o.p)

・❥・ summary: turns out you both want different things but seunghyun has to give you the perfect goodbye ・❥・word count: 2.5k ・❥・warnings: 18+. smut. oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v, swearing, angst. female reader. ・❥・ authors note: this took me all day to write and now i go hide like i always do when i write smut because i will always be forever nervous to write it. but there might be a part two to this. maybe. we'll see. also, didn't add my taglist because idk who wants tagging in smut so <3

As you sat there watching your friends have their very first dance together as a married couple, your heart clenched in your chest. You had to tear your eyes away instead focusing on the glass of wine you had in your hand. Today wasn’t supposed to be like this; it was supposed to be a happy day celebrating your friend’s love but how could you celebrate love when your own love life had just crumbled apart mere hours ago? The conversation with Seunghyun replayed over and over in your head.  

It had been like any other day – the excitement of watching your two friends finally tie the knot hanging in the air. It had spurred you on to wonder about your future with Seunghyun. You had been together for four years now. They hadn’t been the easiest four years but somehow, someway, you always made it through the other end stronger than ever. This was what true love felt like. Every single day with him made you fall even more in love. There was no doubt that you wanted to be with this man for the rest of your life so, you had voiced that to him. The second you had said that you wanted to get married one day, maybe even have children, he had turned pale. His whole body had gone rigid, his hands dropping from the tie he was trying to tighten. As he looked at you and said ‘I don’t think that’s going to ever be in the cards for us. Marriage isn’t something I’ve ever wanted’, your heart had plummeted into your stomach.

Really, it should have been conversation early on in your relationship but you had been so caught up in each other that some of the important conversations like that got lost along the way. His words had cut you deep, so deep that it had resulted in the two of you arguing. It made you think he didn’t love you enough even as he tried to explain why he didn’t want to get married. So, as you left for the wedding, all the hurt and scalding words that had been said between you hanging in the air, you knew this was the beginning of the end. 

Sitting at the table, you swirled around the last remains of your drink in the glass, bringing it up to your lips to swig it off. As you did, you locked eyes with Seunghyun who had been sitting at the table over talking to his bandmates. You didn’t tear yours away as he said something to them then made his way to you. 

“Hey,” he said quietly, holding his hand out to you. “Dance with me?” 

Your eyes glanced at his hand, hesitation coursing through your body but you took it anyway. He led you to the dancefloor, his hands finding your hips, placing yours around his neck. A slow song was playing, Seunghyun gently swaying the two of you to the beat. It was too painful to look at his face right now, focusing on his shoes instead but he didn’t let that last too long, his slender fingers reaching out to lift your chin up to look at him. As you met his eyes once more, you could see the pain in them mirroring your own. He knew as well as you that this was it for the two of you. God, it hurt. Your heart physically felt like it was breaking in two. 

“Seunghyun...” you started but he cut you off. 

“Let’s just... have this moment, yeah?” His voice broke as he spoke, the gentleness combined with his deep tone penetrating right through your broken heart. 

He tugged you closer to him, your body pressed against his with your head laying on his chest. His heart was beating just as rapidly as yours, his hand gently reaching up to your head to stroke your hair. It was soothing but it wasn’t enough. This was just hurting you more. Knowing this would be the last time he’d ever hold you like this, that he’d ever be this close to you? It was enough to bring you to tears. As you let them fall onto his suit jacket, he knew you were crying, squeezing his own eyes shut. Seunghyun wasn’t afraid of crying, he never had been but right now he needed to be strong for you. When he was alone later, he’d let the tears fall but right now making sure you had one last bit of comfort from him was his main priority. 

As the song ended and you pulled back to look at him, he kept his arms around you, his thumb running along your lower lip. “...I’m sorry I can’t give you what you want.” 

“I know,” you whispered. 

He looked at you so intensely, like he was memorising all of your features knowing that he would never be able to look at you this way again. Before he could even control himself, he was leaning in and his lips met yours in a slow, passionate kiss. His arms wrapped around your body; his hands splayed across your back as he poured every ounce of his love into the kiss. Love wasn’t the problem; his own commitment issues were. Your fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck, Seunghyun letting out a sigh. He didn’t say any words as he pulled away, he didn’t need to. Instead, he simply took your hand in his and lead you outside. If he was going to say goodbye then he was going to make sure it was one you could both remember. 

That was how you ended up in the backseat of the car, Seunghyun’s shirt half open, yours somewhere in the front of the car as you straddled his lap, hands cradling his face as you kissed him hungrily. His hands slid up your back, unhooking your bra. It was quickly discarded somewhere in the car, his eyes instantly falling to your chest. His head dipped down, his tongue swirling around your nipple. Your hand tangled in his hair, a breathy moan passing your lips as he worked his magic. Slowly, you grinded your hips against his feeling his growing length rubbing against your core. Thank the stars you’d decided to wear a skirt, only the barrier of your underwear in the way. It was good but it wasn’t enough. You needed him, you needed him like you needed air. 

His lips trailed wet kisses along your chest and collarbone until he reached your neck, biting down to leave his mark. It might be the last time he’d get to have you like this but he still wanted the world to know you had been his. You tugged at his hair, pulling him back up to meet your lips. “If this is the last time just... give me everything, please.” 

“Whatever you want, baby,” he mumbled, thumb brushing against your cheek as he crashed his lips back onto yours. His hand slid underneath your skirt, dipping beneath your underwear. The second his fingers touched your sensitive core, he bit back a moan at how wet you were. “You're always so ready for me.” 

His fingers slid between your folds, coating his fingers in your slick before he pushed two digits inside you. The intrusion had you gasping, his fingers setting a slow, torturous rhythm. He pumped them in and out, your head falling onto his shoulder as you ground against his hand. “Seunghyun, please.” 

“Please, what?” His voice was a deep, reverberating whisper in your ear only making your arousal worse. “Use your words, baby.” 

“More. I need more. I...” Words seemed to escape you especially when he suddenly sped up his movements, his fingers plunging in and out of your tight heat. You whimpered, hips rocking with him. He was nothing but determined to bring you to the brink of ecstasy, his free hand tangling in your hair, tilting your head back roughly as his lips found your neck. The feeling of his fingers deep inside you and the soft bites along your collarbone were enough to send you spiralling. 

You moaned out his name, biting down on his shoulder as you came all over his fingers. He didn't let up, working you through your orgasm until he felt your body slump against his. Only then did he pull his fingers out of you, bringing them up to his lips. He made a show out of pushing them into his mouth to taste you. His eyes almost rolled to the back of his head, a breathy sigh passing his lips. “You always taste amazing, princess.” 

His swollen lips brushed against yours, the sweet taste of you lingering on his lips. He gently tugged at your bottom lip, grinding his hips up into yours. You could feel how hard he was, how desperate he was and God, did you want him inside you so badly. The feeling was very mutual, his cock aching to be buried deep inside you. He lifted your hips off him momentarily, popping open the button on his slacks as he lifted his own hips to tug off his pants and boxers down his legs enough to free himself. He hissed as the cool air hit his erection.  

Licking your lips, you leaned your head down, his hand instantly coming to push you closer to his length. Your tongue darted out, teasing along his tip, the taste of his precum filling your mouth. He groaned, a deep husky noise; it was almost enough to send you spiralling again. The throbbing between your legs back yet again as he lost all his patience and pushed your head onto him. Your lips wrapped around his cock, taking as much of him into your mouth as possible. What you couldn’t fit, you wrapped your hand around. You began to bob your head up and down, hollowing out your cheeks. With lidded eyes he watched as you took him deep into your throat, holding your head there. He let out a strangled moan, his hips instinctively pushing up into your mouth causing the tip of his length to hit the back of your throat. The choking sound you made was almost enough to make him come there and then. Instead, he pulled you off him, his thumb wiping at the corners of your mouth. You looked picturesque, the way your lips were swollen, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. This was one of the ways he was always going to remember you on lonely nights when he couldn’t have you anymore.  

“I need you so much,” he whispered, the pain in his voice like a knife to your heart. “Even if it's for the last time, I just... I fuckin’ need you.”  

You didn’t say anything, instead you slid your underwear off down your legs, moving to straddled him yet again. You took him in your hand, positioning him at your entrance before you sank down onto him. You moaned as you took all of him inside you, sitting on his thick length to give yourself time to adjust. His fingers dug into your hips; head tilted back as he looked at you. “You’re so beautiful. I... love you.” 

You rested your forehead against his, eyes squeezing shut as if it was too painful to even look at him after saying that knowing what was going to come after this was over. Regardless, you replied softly. “I love you, too.” 

“Don’t move. Not yet. I...just want to look at you... so I can keep this picture in my head,” his finger trailed along your jaw, his eyes piercing into yours now that you’d opened them. “You were always the best thing that had ever happened to me and nothing will change that.” 

You let the moment linger between you, knowing that you both needed it. Your eyes scanned his face, committing his dark, gorgeous eyes, strong jawline and perfect lips to your memory. Slowly but surely, you began to lift your hips up then back down. His hands on your hips guiding your movements, small breathy groans coming from the beautiful man in front of you. He leaned up, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss. His tongue slipped between your parted lips, tongue tangling with yours as you picked up your pace. Seunghyun’s own hips bucked up into yours, his lips never leaving yours. One of your hands cupped his cheek, his soft skin flushed beneath your touch. The grunts and groans coming from him were some of your favourite sounds, ones that you’d miss so very much.  

“I’m so close, baby,” you panted, your hips beginning to lose the rhythm. Seunghyun took this as his cue to wrap his arm around your body, laying you back on the plush seat of the car.  

“Shh, let me take care of you,” he rasped, his body covering yours as he lifted your legs to wrap around his waist. He thrust into you hard and fast, your body moving with the force of his movements. Nails raked down his back (your turn to mark him as yours now), the sting of it causing him to moan. He had always loved when you did that. 

He could feel your walls squeezing him, letting him know you were close. So, he brought the pad of his thumb down, rubbing tight, small circles against your clit. His lips whispering “I love you” against yours as he changed to slow, deep thrusts. That was it. You couldn’t take anymore, your walls clamping down around him, your lips singing his name like a prayer as you came undone. He didn’t take his eyes off your face as he watched your orgasm hit you, it was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen. He kept up his rhythm but soon faltered when he heard you whisper you loved him. He stilled, his hips flush against you as he came, emptying himself inside you with a deep groan. 

He collapsed on top of you, your sweat slicked bodies pressing together. You ran your hand through his hair as he nuzzled into your neck. Why couldn’t you stay this way? Just wrapped up in your own little bubble with the man you loved. But, no. Reality wasn’t that kind to either of you. You both wanted different thing and as selfish as Seunghyun wanted to be, he couldn’t do that to you. No matter what, you deserved to find everything you’d ever wanted but he wasn’t the one that could give you that. 

He lifted his head, a sad frown on his beautiful face. “I’m staying at Jiyong’s tonight but... I’ll drive you home and come get my stuff tomorrow.” 

“Okay.” 

That was all you could say otherwise you’d break down. The fact that this was really it was all consuming pain. And, as much as this had been the perfect way to say goodbye to each other, it made it all the much harder. 

How were you supposed to ever let him go? 

[natasha-romanoff-off]

A dangerous game

At Tony Stark’s party, tensions rise as unspoken feelings linger in the air. Between stolen glances, quiet frustrations, and a risky plan, the night takes an unexpected turn. What starts as a simple game quickly becomes something far more dangerous.

Tony Stark always threw the most extravagant parties, and tonight was no exception. The mansion was filled with music, laughter, and the clinking of glasses as guests mingled. You sat at the bar, absentmindedly swirling your drink, when a familiar voice pulled you from your thoughts.

"What are you doing here all alone?" Kate asked as she slid onto the stool beside you, her tone laced with curiosity.

"Nat had to talk about work," you replied, tilting your head toward the other side of the room.

Kate followed your gaze and spotted Natasha deep in conversation with Maria. A knowing smirk played on her lips.

"Looks like that bothers you."

You sighed, tightening your grip on your glass. "We’ve been here for three hours, and that’s all she’s done. She hasn’t even spent five minutes with me."

Kate raised an eyebrow. "So why don’t you just go to her?"

"I don’t want to bother her," you admitted, taking another sip of your drink.

"And ‘pockets’?" you asked, referring to Yelena.

"In the bathroom," Kate answered with a shrug.

You nodded to yourself, frustration still settling in your chest. "I just wish she’d pay me a little attention…"

Kate tilted her head slightly, amusement flickering in her eyes. "Then why don’t you make her jealous?"

Lowering your glass, you considered her words. "Not a bad idea…"

She let out a small chuckle. "I was joking."

"I wasn’t," you said, turning to her with a smirk. "Will you help me?"

Kate sighed dramatically. "Do you want me to die?"

You laughed, but before you could say anything, you felt a heavy gaze on you. Glancing over your shoulder, you spotted Natasha watching from across the room, her expression unreadable.

Kate leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. "See that redhead over there?"

Your brows furrowed as you turned to look. Another woman stood a few feet away, watching you with quiet interest.

"She’s been staring at you since you walked in. Want me to introduce you?"

"I don’t think—" you started, hesitating.

"Oh, now you’re backing out?" Kate teased, nudging your arm.

You sighed before rolling your eyes. "Fine."

Pleased, Kate waved her over. The woman approached with confident strides, her presence immediately commanding attention.

"Wanda, this is Y/N," Kate said, gesturing between you two.

"Nice to meet you," you said politely.

"The pleasure is mine," Wanda replied with a smirk. She reached for your hand and pressed a light kiss to your knuckles.

Heat crept up your neck, but before you could react, you felt Natasha’s gaze burning into your back.

Kate stood up abruptly. "Well, I’m off. My blonde just got back."

Your eyes widened slightly. "Don’t leave me al—"

"See you later," Kate interrupted with a wink before disappearing into the crowd.

Wanda stepped closer, her voice amused. "Am I such bad company?"

You let out a nervous chuckle. "No, it’s just… I don’t know you."

She shrugged, unconcerned. "We can fix that."

You glanced toward Natasha, who hadn’t moved an inch, her eyes locked on you.

"You seem nice, but I have a girlfriend," you admitted.

Wanda smirked. "At least let me buy you a drink."

You hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Alright."

As Wanda signaled the bartender, you took a breath before speaking again. "I know we just met, but… can I ask you for a favor?"

Wanda raised an eyebrow. "You just told me you have a girlfriend."

"It’s not like that," you clarified quickly. "It’s just… Kate suggested making her jealous, and I was wondering if you’d help."

A slow grin spread across Wanda’s face. "That sounds fun. Who are we messing with?"

You nodded toward Natasha. "The redhead over there."

Wanda let out a low whistle. "Natasha?"

Your brows lifted in surprise. "You know her?"

"We’ve known each other for years," Wanda said, taking a sip of her drink before flashing you a mischievous smile. "Count me in."

"You’re not scared? Kate refused to help me because of that," you pointed out.

Wanda chuckled, setting her glass down. "Scared? No. This will be entertaining."

Before you could say anything else, she took your hand and pulled you onto the dance floor.

"You have powers, don’t you?" you asked as she led you into an easy rhythm.

Wanda smirked. "What gave it away?"

You shot a glance over her shoulder, catching Natasha’s intense stare. "You don’t even look nervous, and my girlfriend looks like she’s ready to kill you."

Wanda laughed softly. "Smart girl. So, where are you from?"

"Russia," you answered.

"Another Black Widow in the mix?"

You shrugged. "That makes three if you count Yelena."

Wanda’s smirk widened slightly. "Wait… you grew up with them, didn’t you?"

"Yeah. Why?"

Wanda chuckled. "Natasha talks about you a lot."

Before you could respond, the music shifted to a slow song, and she extended a hand. "May I?"

You hesitated for a second but nodded, letting her pull you closer, her hands resting on your waist.

The moment barely lasted ten seconds before your Natasha appeared beside you. "What’s going on here?" She asked, her tone deceptively calm.

Wanda smirked. "Why didn’t you introduce me to your gorgeous girlfriend, Romanoff?"

"You just got back—I didn’t have time. And apparently, she can’t sit still," Natasha muttered, eyes flicking to you.

Wanda chuckled, stepping back slightly. "Well, I hope I get an invite to the wedding." With a wink, she walked away, leaving you alone with your girlfriend.

Before you could react, Natasha grabbed your hand and pulled you into the hallway. The air between you crackled with tension as she backed you against the wall, her face inches from yours.

"Care to explain what that was?"

You blinked up at her innocently. "I have no idea what you’re talking about."

Natasha’s lips curled into a smirk. "Oh, you know exactly what I’m talking about."

"Are you jealous?" you teased.

Natasha's eyes darkened slightly. "When someone touches what’s mine, yes."

Your breath hitched. "Oh, so I’m yours now? Didn’t seem like it all night."

She scoffed. "So that’s what this is about?"

"No, I just—"

Natasha leaned in, her breath warm against your skin. "If you needed me, all you had to do was say so."

Before you could respond, she lifted you effortlessly, and your legs wrapped around her waist. She started kissing you, slow and deep.

"Wait, your work—" you managed to gasp.

"I finished half an hour ago," she murmured against your lips. "I just wanted to see how far you’d go for my attention."

You groaned. "You little—"

Natasha smirked as she carried you toward her room. "What? What am I?"

Her lips found your neck, and a soft moan escaped you. "Forget it," you mumbled.

"Good girl," she whispered. "But just so we’re clear—next time you try to make me jealous, I’ll make sure everyone knows exactly who you belong to."