#hope you like this!! i hope i didn't get too carried away with the internal dialogue and stuff ...

[darkdragon768]

I feel like crying.

[natashascumslut]

LOUD. Wanda maximoff x fem reader

SUMMARY: Your need for Wanda suddenly gets stronger, and she finally decides to do something about it.

WARNINGS: Smut 18+! MDNI, Top!Wanda, Bottom!Reader, Thigh riding (R), Strap-on (R), Praise kink, Strap-on referred to as ‘cock’.

a/n- This was originally gonna be longer but i lost interest lmao. Not proofread!

You needed Wanda. it was sudden and intense. It wasn't the first time you'd thought of the witch in... not-so-PG ways. But this was different, it wasn't like when you couldn't sleep, and thoughts of Wanda creeped into your mind. This was need, and it was strong. And you also just so happen to be walking down the street after doing a bit of grocery shopping.

The feeling had hit you like a bus, creeping all over you, leaving goosebumps in its tracks, before settling between your legs. You rushed back, desperate to get rid of it. But, to your luck, the exact woman you were just thinking about was standing in the kitchen of the compound, you cursed under your breath. She turned to greet you, but stopped when she noticed your flushed cheeks and hurried movements.

"Are you okay?" She asked, and you nodded quickly, your eyes not meeting hers. You put things away, trying your hardest to be casual, but your mind was wandering. You felt her eyes on you, burning into your skull, and it wasn't making any of this easier. You put the bag you were carrying the groceries in away and sent a tight-lipped smile in Wanda's direction, before leaving the cramped space; it was an open kitchen, looking over the living space with floor to ceiling windows, but it felt cramped when it was only you and Wanda in there. You rushed up to your room, closing the door behind you and taking a second to breathe.

You stared at your bed, contemplating. It was the middle of day, you couldn't just... get off, someone might call you in for a mission or a meeting, you might be needed, someone might walk in; you reached behind you and locked your door.

A soft thump sounded the otherwise quiet room as your head fell back against the door, the aching between your legs hadn't stopped, in fact it'd somehow gotten stronger. You didn't know what to do, but luckily a knock on the door decided your fate, you were going to be asked to join a meeting, and by the time it was over you would feel okay again—

Wanda was standing on the other side of the door, a playful smile tugging at her lips.

"Hey." She said casually, peeking behind you into your room. "Mind if i come in?" You nodded instinctively, but internally cursed yourself, her being in here would only worsen things. You stepped aside as you tried your hardest to get words out of you. She stepped in and the door was closed, the room suddenly felt cramped. You stared at her back, you should move, do something.

"Your thoughts are loud." Shit. "What?" Finally, words! You couldn't see her face, her back still turned to you, but you could hear the smirk in her voice as she spoke. "I said; your thoughts are loud." She turned around, your heart skipped a beat. Maybe, if it skipped a few more beats, you would die and you wouldn't have to be in this situation anymore. That's what you hoped would happen atleast. She stepped closer, your heartbeat got louder.

Fuck, shit, fuck, fuck, fuck- "Calm down." Her voice was quiet as her hand came in contact with your jaw, holding it in place. "Please stop reading my mind." You pleaded, you didn't like it, not one bit. Your thoughts were yours and yours only, you didn't want her poking about in there. "Please." Her grip on your jaw loosened, and her eyes had softened; she had stopped, thank god.

She stared at you for a second, seemingly deciding her next words. "How about i help you out?" She said quietly, her eyes scanning your face for any signs of.. well, anything. It was hard for her to know what you were feeling when she wasn't in your mind with you. You let yourself nod weakly because frankly, you needed her too much to protest. And even if you didn't, you still wouldn't. You'd been pinning after the witch for months now, caught up in everything her. "I'm gonna need words of confirmation, pretty girl." She whispered, but her tone had changed, it almost matched the amount of need you were feeling in your body, almost.

"Yes, please Wanda." Your voice was weak, pathetic and Wanda relished in it, she had known how you felt for awhile now, since you never made much effort to quiet your mind around her, but hearing it from you made it so much... better.

Her hands found your waist, you could hear your heartbeat in your ears, pounding. "Yeah? You need me to help you out?" She purred in a whisper, this definitely wasn't helping your building arousal. You nodded, your eyes darkening. She spun you around so quickly you were pretty sure you got whiplash, but that was the least of your worries right now, because the witch you so desperately needed was leading you towards your bed. She sat herself down, and pulled your tense figure into her lap, straddling her.

"Mh, you're so tense." She hummed, her hands running up and down your thighs. "I'll make you feel better, darling." lord. Her eyes moved from your lips back up to your eyes. "Would you like that?" You'd never seen her so confident before, most likely because she knew she was in control, she knew you wanted this. But that didn't stop it from being insanely attractive. "Yeah." You breathed out, surprised you even managed to talk. She smirked, her face inching closer to yours. You mentally cursed yourself for being so out of it, god she had such a hold on you.

You finally gained an ounce of consciousness and surged the rest of the way till her soft lips were on yours. Your body relaxed into hers and you're pretty sure you let out a moan, because in a matter of seconds she was gripping your hips and pulling you in impossibly closer, her warm body flush against yours. You weren't sure if it was your heartbeat you were feeling, or hers. "Wanda." You whined as your hips unintentionally rutted forward on her thigh, she pulled back, smirking at you. "So needy." She said, her bottom lip lodged between her teeth. Her hands stayed firmly on your hips as she slowly started guiding you to grind down on her thigh, making you gasp. Even with the layers of fabric between you and her thigh, you still felt it.

Her lips trailed across your jaw till they landed on your neck, pressing firm kisses to the length of it as soft whimpers tumbled out your lips. You felt her suck at the soft skin of your neck, forcing a moan out of you. "No marks." You warned breathlessly, but she made no effort to stop. "Wanda." She groaned, stopping. She'd already made a mark, but you didn't really care if you were honest. Your hips moved faster, with her help. But were immediately halted the second you felt something poking at your clothed cunt. She held back a chuckle as she watched your face turn in confusion, a wide smirk playing at her lips.

"I came prepared." She hummed, clearly happy with herself. You raised an eyebrow, panting slightly. Your breath hitched when her hands wrapped around your upper arms, pulling you flush against her yet again. "If you like riding my thigh so much.." She started in a whisper, her warm breath fanning over your ear. "How about you ride me?" You whimpered at her words alone, a shiver coursing the entire length of your body. "Mhm." Was all you could physically get out, a pathetic hum.

It was funny, really. Every time you thought of the witch, you were in control of the situation. But here you were, rendered useless under her gaze. "Yeah, would you like that?" She said under her breath, the heat of the situation clearly getting to her aswell. You nodded pathetically. "Please, Wanda. Let me ride you." You whined, your hands on her shoulders. Her cheeks dusted a light shade of pink as her eyes darkened, immediately pulling you in for a firm yet passionate kiss, pawing at your shirt as you gasped quietly into her mouth. You helped her pull the thin fabric over your head, blushing as you felt exposed.

It didn't take long for your bra to disappear too, disregarded onto the floor with your shirt. A stuttered moan mixed with your heavy breaths as Wanda latched her lips to your nipple, her teeth tugging at it. Your fingers tangled in her soft hair, holding her in place as your back arched, pushing your chest into her. A satisfied groan vibrated against your body, and a unsatisfied whimper left it when Wanda pulled back, a dazed expression on her face as she grinned smugly up at you. "Please." You said huskily, you needed her inside you now. She gently pushed you off her lap, leaving you to stand up on your wobbly legs. She snickered as she watched you trip over your own feet as you tried to keep your balance, before standing up completely straight, blushing.

"I've barely touched you, baby." She teased, her hands finding your bare waist. You avoided eye contact, panting gently. Her fingered trailed down your waist, till they were at the button of your jeans. You watched with heavy eyes as she undid it, sliding the denim down your legs. You felt it was unfair you were almost completely naked, while she was fully dressed. You pouted, grabbing the collar of her shirt and pulling her into you, before stripping the fabric off her body with her help. You ogled at her covered chest until she forced you to look back up at her. Her lips found yours again, and she was stepping out of her jeans. You whimpered as your eyes came in contact with the strap on firmly harnessed to her hips, she smirked smugly.

You pushed her back on to the bed, and she moved up it till her head was on the pillows. She watched as you stripped of the last piece of clothing covering you, a low groan emitted for her lips. You crawled ontop of her, settling on her thighs, right in front of the strap. You stared at it for a second, before moving your eyes back up to hers. "Come on, baby. Aren't you going to be a good girl and ride me, like i know you want to." She husked as her hands found your hips, using it to her advantage to guide you up till you were hovering above the silicone. You whined, the tips of your fingers pressing into her stomach as you tried to steady yourself. It didn't take long before you were sinking down onto it, a loud whimper of her name following the action.

You had never felt so exposed, completely on display, but you were too focused on the witches strap buried deep inside you to care. "Fuck." The breathless curse made you look up at her, her attention was focused solely on your cunt. "You look so pretty on my cock, baby. Such a pretty slut for me." You whined at her words, your hips grinding down on the toy. Your hands landed on her shoulders as your hips moved back and forth, your head hanging between your arms as you breathed heavily. She grunted as your nails dug into the soft skin of her shoulders, and her hands on your hips made you move faster.

"Fuck, Wanda." You whined as your clit rubbed against her lower stomach, adding to the stimulation the toy was already giving you.

"Such a slut for me, hm?" She growled under her breath, her hand wrapping around your throat made your head move back up, looking her dead in the eye as you whimpered weakly. "Mhm, all yours— Fuck!— all yours." She hummed happily at your answer. Your grinding got faster until you decided it wasn't enough for you. You lifted yourself up till the halfway point of the strap, before falling back down. Wanda groaned.

"Keep doing that, baby. Fuck, you take my cock so well, such a good girl." She husked, making you whine. You did as you were told, your skin hitting hers everytime you slammed back down. "Wanda, Please." You moaned, scratching at her shoulders. She got impatient, seeing you ontop of her like this was making her head feel fuzzy. Her fingers dug into her waist as she started thrusting up into you, copying the movements of your hips. "Fuck!" You moaned loudly, your head falling back as your eyes screwed shut. Your moans started coming out in 'ah, ah, ah.' as she pounded up into you, desperate to make you cum.

"Wanda— please, i'm close." You whined, your eyes focused on her face. Her eyebrows were furrowed and her mouth open in deep breaths as she stared at the way your cunt was swallowing the strap as she pushed her hips up. "Yeah?" She breathed, not eyes not moving. "Is my slut gonna cum for me, hm? All over my cock?" She said shakily, her own arousal dripping down her thighs. "Mhm, please."

You moans became high pitched and breathy as she focused solely on making you cum. "Beg for it, like the good girl you are." Her eyes finally moved up to your face, and she swore she could've came just from the sight of your pleasured expression. "Please, Wanda. Please let me cum, i'll be good— i'll be your good slut, please i need it." You got out between moans, her hips somehow moving faster. Just as you thought it couldn't get any better, one of her hands loosened its strong grip on your waist and started rubbing circles around your clit. "Cum for me, baby." And you did, and it was intense. Your moans were loud and broken, and your eyes had rolled back so far she could barely see them anymore.

She helped you ride out your high with the thrusts of her hips before stopping completely, setting you back down on her strap. She sat up, wrapping her arms around you as you collapsed into her body. "Fuck." You panted out, your head on her shoulder. You whined in sensitivity as you shifted slightly, feeling the toy that was still buried inside of you move. "You did so good for me baby, so good." You nodded weakly, your eyes closed as you panted against her shoulder.  "I wanna-" You started, out of breath. "I wanna make you feel good."

You whined, lifting your head back up when you finally got your breath back. One of her eyebrows quirked up, a smirk spreading across her lips. "Yeah? You wanna be a good girl and return the favour?" She hummed, so desperate to have you between her legs. You nodded, your eyes heavy. You put your hands on either side of her face and pressed your lips to hers, whining as her tongue slipped past your lips. She helped you off the toy, and you led back on the bed, your breath coming out in heavy pants. You turned to her when you heard her hum happily. "Your mind is a lot quieter." She said, her voice cocky. "Wanda!" You whined, playfully hitting her shoulder. She rolled her eyes with a grin.

[easy-there-leftovers]

As Cool As I Think I Am

Summary: The 5 times Spencer tries to be cool, and the 1 time he doesn't care. 

Alternatively; Spencer never thought he was cool, but he found himself wanting to be just for you. 

[a/n] Recommended to be read after, "A Question Unasked", and is a roundabout sequel to "Mixed Messages."

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem! (mentored by Hotch!) reader| cw: slight spoilers for s1e04, s1e06, s1e08, s1e10, and s1e18 | description of canon-typical violence, timeframe switches because I can, and Spencer being an oblivious, lovesick idiot (can't believe this version of him survived all of this lol) | word count: 7.2k

Amazing. You had called him, “amazing” during the Arizona case and that was all that had been occupying his mind as of late. He had been called brilliant before. Been described as bright, gifted, hell, he was called a genius even. Yet that was the first time anyone had said anything positive about him.

Removed from his intellectual capabilities.

It made him think that there was more that he could offer than just his never-ending stream of knowledge and incessant rambling.

You had seen that in him.

Seen that he was 'amazing.'

But he certainly wasn’t feeling that way now.

“On SWAT we broke shots down into three steps." Spencer nodded as he listened.

"One: Front sight. Focus on the front sight, not on the target. Two: Controlled trigger press. Three: Follow through. After the shot, you come right back to the target. Now, what did you do wrong?”

He sighs with his eyes closed. “I didn't follow through.” 

“Right. You came off the target to see where you hit.”

Hotch had been observing him for the past few minutes to prepare him for his assessment tomorrow, and yet it still felt like he was making no discernable progress. 

He had memorized every trick, every form, every physics interplay that could better the ballistics of his shot and yet he still couldn't do it.

"Hotch, my firearms qualification is tomorrow morning. I barely passed my last one." He had said, putting the gun down.

He feels his unit chief gently push him aside to demonstrate and he gets in position.

"Front sight," He aims his gun.

"Trigger press," He presses down on the trigger, resulting in a gunshot to the target.

"Follow through." He finally says. Keeping his eyes forward with his finger still depressing the trigger until he holsters his gun again.

"You do those three things, you'll hit your target every time." Spencer shakes his head.

He tries to replicate the steps again, but only fails miserably.

He has been doing that. He is doing that. And yet he still keeps missing.

If this wasn't part of his job, maybe he wouldn't have cared all too much about his gun proficiency. Or lack of.

And yet it was.

And it was imperative that he learned it to keep his place on the team, but he had been losing hope.

"They're going to take away my gun."

Sensing his frustration, Hotch empathizes with him.

"Profilers aren't required to carry." He groans at that.

"Yeah, but she does and she's great at it."

God, you must've thought he was pathetic.

Aaron laughs internally at that. He knows exactly who the younger one is talking about.

He had seen the way that Spencer had been watching his 'protege,' and it didn't take being a profiler to know that he was absolutely smitten. If he hadn't known any better, he would've thought that Reid's frustrations stemmed from wanting to seem more experienced in front of you.

And Hotch saw no problem with that, at least for now. On the contrary, the two of you working together seemed to have bolstered his focus on the case. Making the team more efficient with their investigations.

He also thinks that it helped because you seemed to return Reid's sentiment, which is why he had brought you along to help him.

So when Spencer turns and sees you walk in, he blanches.

As much as he really liked your presence (you were friends, right?), he really didn't want to embarrass himself in front of you.

He does that more than enough on his own.

But it seemed like your mentor didn't care.

Hotch says your name with a greeting before excusing himself which tells Spencer that he had planned this from the start. He sighs at that. Chest feeling heavy at the pressure.

He sees you give him a polite smile, which he's come to recognize to be your way of easing him, and he returns it.

"I've heard about your progress." Spencer rolls his eyes at that.

"More like regress. I'm sorry that you have to be here." You snort at his joke but shake your head to assure him.

"I'm right where I want to be. "

His heart fills, even though he knows that not what you meant.

"Why don't you go ahead and show me how you fire that gun?"

He nods and waits for you to put on your ear muffs and goggles before he returns to his position. Calming himself down as he remembers Hotch's words.

Front sight, trigger press, follow through.

He fires three bullets and sees them all hit the whites of the target, which makes him sigh for the umpteenth time.

He puts the gun down and lowers his ear muffs to look at you. Seemingly deep in thought, chin resting on your hand, with eyes travelling slowly up and down his form. Observing.

Scrutinizing.

Assessing.

He can't help but feel naked under your gaze.

He always knew you were smart. The cases you've helped solve were more than proof of just that, but he knew that even you couldn't solve the mystery that was his aim.

He couldn't expect that of you. He relies on you so often already.

He briefly wonders how there's such a different between you and him. You joined the same year, joined the same unit, and worked with the same people on the same cases. How was it that you seemed calmer, cooler, and more prepared for anything more than he ever was?

Spencer firmly believes that intelligence cannot be quantified. And if anyone ever doubted him, he would just point at you and say that you had him beat everywhere despite what any number might have to say otherwise.

Case and point. you had been talking to him about something very important and thoughtful and he had been zoning out the entire time.

"I um,–– what?"

You shake your head and gesture to his gun once more. "Show me your form again."

He takes his gun hesitantly, but readies himself the same way he did earlier. The only exception being that his finger isn't on the trigger.

He hears that telltale, almost bored, 'hm' of yours before you speak again.

"Tuck your chest in."

He's read countless firearm manuals and instructions and he's never heard of that before.

"I'm sorry?"

"Tuck your chest in." You say it again, but it's still not making sense to him.

Unable to voice or even act upon his confusion, he watches as you wait with an impassive face before asking,

"Can I touch you?" He lets out a shaky, but immediate 'yes' and you move to stand beside him.

Given your calm and nonchalant demeanor, he anticipates a more impersonal touch. For lack of a better word. He expects a shove. Maybe a push, to correct him into the right place.

So when your hand comes to softly rest on his stomach, fingers splaying across the expanse of his undefined abdominal muscles, he feels his breath hitch. Upper body slightly crumpling in on himself as he does.

He's surprised he hasn't dropped his gun.

"Dr. Reid,"

He's also surprised that his heart hasn't stopped. With how you said his name, and how close you are– he can already feel your soft breath gracing his ear–

"You're an autodidact, aren't you?"

A self-taught person, he thinks.

"I–– I am." Curse his shaky voice.

"You know, there are some things that can't be learned by just reading textbooks and looking at diagrams."

He feels you tap his stomach and he suddenly feels hot.

"Feel this?" He feels you engulfing his senses, that's for sure. But he nods slowly.

"Remember it. Your center of gravity is different from the subjects in those graphics. So the form you need to take is likewise different."

And just like that, all too quick for his liking, you move away. Hand leaving him just like whatever depraved thought might've been running around his head.

He hesitantly looks back at you, and you gesture to his gun again. Noticing how your free hand is resting on the gun in your holster.

A Glock 19, he remembers.

"Go ahead and shoot like that now."

He does, in the same way that he's compelled to follow your voice like always–

Front sight, trigger press, follow through.

And fires three shots.

To his surprise, he manages to shoot the target's chest. Not quite centered, he admits, but its a vast improvement from his previous attempts.

"I– I did it." He feels the disbelief on his face when he looks at you again. He's expecting you to look just as shocked as he does. After all, you saw just how egregious his aim was. So it surprises him when he turns and is greeted instead with the small smile on your face.

Not the same polite smile that you usually give when you're at work, no. It was a soft, genuine smile, or so he thinks.

"I never doubted your capabilities, Dr. Reid."

He beams under your praise. Blooming like a flower under the warm radiance of the Sun. Once again subject to that brain-freezing sensation from a few weeks ago.

If he just remembers everything you told him today, which wasn't a lot, he theoretically should pass his firearm qualifications with no problem.

And maybe, just maybe, he'll get to see you smile at him again.

After all, he had always wanted for you to look at him. Actually look at him.

Maybe if he passes his test this time, you will.

----

The following day, he doesn’t pass his test.

And he is much more embarrassed now than he ever was before. 

He returns to the bullpen with his head down. Already expecting everyone to know of his failure.

He really didn't want to see if you were one of the ones that had been looking at him.

What he doesn't see is that you were.

But you weren't disappointed at all. You wanted nothing more than to reassure him. To tell him that you could always help him again, and that you didn't mind the extra work if it weren't for the stares that you had been getting back.

Seemingly turning your what-would've-been act of friendship and care into an expectation and responsibility.

"Make a wish!"

"Come on, man. Blow, baby, blow!"

"I thought you were full of hot air, Reid."

"They're trick candles, Spence, okay? They–– They're going to come back on every time."

While Spencer is glad that he’s spending his birthday with actual people, there's one in particular that he's missing.

He also feels sort of embarrassed that he's having a full-on birthday at his workplace. Though he is very thankful that his friends care about him enough to do this.

"Hope you like chocolate." JJ says with a laugh and he is only now recognizing the cake. Previously too caught up in blowing out the undying flames to even notice the festive dessert that supported them.

"Where's the cake from?" The blonde only gives him a look that he can't quite understand, but he is immediately distracted when he feels a draft from where Hotch passes by him.

He looks in the direction he came from and lo and behold, he found the very person he was missing.

He gets up, wanting to at least get a greeting from you, but he's interrupted by Gideon asking him something before he can even try.

"You having fun?"

He knows that he's asking him, but he can also see how his eyes aren't quite addressing him back. Instead, looking up a few inches above him.

He gives a tight lip smile when he realizes just what he's looking at.

God, he felt pathetic.

“Yes, definitely. I am definitely– having fun.” 

"Make a wish?" He asks another question and that’s when Spencer sees what he's doing now.

Ever since he first exhibited signs of interest in you, he knew that his mentor would be the first to clock them. He couldn't even hide it if he tried. If there was anyone on the team that he knew would figure it out this quick, it would've been him.

He expected it.

What he didn't expect was for Gideon to show disapproval for it.

For you.

Back during the Arizona case, he remembers how Gideon had interrupted you when you were explaining something. And that's when he realized you were going to have a hard time.

You were going to have a hard time because of his own rapidly growing interest.

Because he froze when you said one nice thing about him, then proceeded to wow him with your observational skills.

He didn't want Gideon to think that you were being a distraction to him, so he instead chose to show just how well the two of you had worked together. Even going as far as to double down and reiterate your statements to convince him of that.

And it seemed to have worked, but now he wasn't so sure.

"Can I take this hat off?"

He wanted nothing more than to do just that before you notice him, but his mentor just shook his head.

"I wouldn't."

He doesn't know it's because Gideon knew you found it cute.

By the time that he notices the elder doesn't really care about the conversation anymore, probably too distracted by the TV behind him, his gaze finally focuses on you.

The very person that he had intended to talk to.

The one he intended to talk the entire time before he got sidetracked.

You still hadn't turned to look at him though, or make an attempt to greet him. Not even a laugh to mock him for the huge, 'Happy Birthday' hat that sat on his head to make him look like a dunce!

Instead, you were staring at something. Or rather, someone.

He turns his head to look just where you were and there he sees his unit chief, your mentor, on the receiving end of your intense gaze.

Just like always.

He shakes his head and decides to just go talk to you, but he is once again interrupted. This time by Hotch with a solemn expression on his face.

“Sorry guys. Party’s over.”

You immediately spring into action at his words, completely missing his hand that was just about to come up to wave at you. He tightens his lips into a thin smile.

Spencer's starting to doubt Morgan and Elle's words.

–––––––––––––

The sentiment is rectified when he finally receives the one thing he had been looking forward to on his birthday, and it wasn't the gift.

Not even the greeting.

It was being able to be in your presence. Being able to spend time with you. The you that wasn't so stressed or strict about work, or the case, or your boss.

It was just him and you. You and him. And the scarf that seemed to warm him just as much as his heart warmed at the sight of your smiling face.

God, what he would do to have this with you forever.

Spencer is well aware that likes you.

Hell, even the rest of team knows it by now, but he's starting to fear that his unconscious mind is more aware of that than his conscious one.

Case and point, he had been having dreams.

Nightmares, actually.

Nightmares that he can't help but think will happen if he takes his eyes off of you for even a second.

Morgan had asked him earlier when he was making coffee if something was causing him to lose sleep. If you had been causing him to lose sleep, he had asked with a teasing smirk.

And while normally he would've flushed and stumbled at his implication that a night of you had been keeping him up, he admits to what's been plaguing his mind.

Naturally, he doesn't tell him the full nature of his night terrors. But his friend doesn't need him to. Not with the way that his eyes try to find yours every chance he gets, focus going in and out of the conversation like an adjusting lens.

Spencer fears that one day, no matter how strong or smart or clever you are, it's his negligence that'll place you on the receiving end of a killer's weapon.

And that there's nothing that he can do to stop them from landing the finishing blow.

He knows that it's not rational, but he also knows that dreams are rarely, if not never, rational. Studies show that around seventy to eighty-percent of dreams contain bizarre or irrational elements. This included unusual settings, impossible scenarios, and illogical developments to be featured in the unconscious brain.

Doesn't mean that he's alright with seeing it so often, though.

What's worse is that he knows that it can very much happen during the BAU cases. And that he can't even prepare himself for that scenario.

He's practically deadweight on the field with his still erratic aim and bambi legs, he's surprised you aren't sick of him yet.

He laughs a bit at the thought. Clutching a portion of his scarf—the only thing that has been keeping the nightmares at bay— as he promises himself that he won't leave your side.

Especially not in the confounding forest of McAllister, Virginia.

Which is why he's stuck in his current position.

“Dr. Reid, I need you to check back downhill and see if the deputies have returned.” He looks at you incredulously.

“What? No! I can’t leave you here– ” 

He doesn't know what exactly you found in the abandoned house, but he knew that it wasn't wise to leave you with no one but a high schooler.

You might think he's not all that different from the kid, but he's at least trained to be an FBI agent.

“We need the rest of the sheriffs and the crime scene team here.”

You looked dead into his eyes, yet he still didn't relent. No matter how reasonable your request was.

In any other situation, he might've thought you were cool. That you were handling the situation like a natural, and that you were very responsible for taking charge when he was there with his heart threatening to beat out of his chest.

But he didn't want to leave you. Not when you looked like you've just seen a ghost.

He grasped your shoulders, firmly but gently, and practically begged for you to come with him.

Stating that what you were feeling was a completely normal physiological response. That your body was sending neropinephrine to your brain to help regulate the stress and compensate for whatever was happening inside of you and that it would be safer to stay together––

But when he sees you ice him out– concealing all remaining traces of shock or fear or worry– he freezes.

His eyes raked across your features, biding his time. Committing every micro-reaction, every hair out of place, every faux-calm movement of your eyes before he had to let you go with a nod. Leaving hurriedly to find anyone that can help and constantly looking back at you to assure his consciousness that you were fine, and that you would be fine.

When he saw that the other sheriff wasn't there yet, much less anyone for that matter, he immediately went back. Running uphill fast to get to you.

To make sure that you were alright, that you were alive, and that no one was coming to hurt you.

Which is how he found himself here.

Gun held to his head by the very high schooler that, he thought, wouldn't have been of help if another dangerous person had shown up.

When you raised your hands and dropped your gun in surrender, he was scared of what would happen to you both if he didn't act quick.

But he was even more scared of what could happen to you if he doesn't talk his way out.

Fast.

So that's what he did.

––––––––––

He didn't get to check on you, he realizes.

He knew you were able to knock the kid out, he was there when he helped you distract him, but he must’ve been wheezing because he was the first one to get ushered out and checked on.

He wants to tell them to check on you. That you had landed pretty badly when the unsub was able to push you back, but he can hardly even hear his own thoughts.

The siren of the police car, the medic talking to him, the rest of the team discussing the case's outcome, and his own heart in his ears were simply too much for him.

By the time that things had settled down, he notices that you still aren't there with him. He worries and whips his head around wildly before his eyes find yours already looking at him.

Doing so with an expression of regret or grief etched onto your face.

He sighs in relief, and gives you the best smile he can give to assure you that he's okay despite having been worried sick.

He needed you to know that he was fine. That it wasn’t your fault. That he was glad you're okay too.

That he was so impressed with what you had done despite the circumstances, and that you had handled the situation way better than he knew anyone on the team ever could.

So when you seem to turn away from him, he briefly wonders if something was actually wrong.

He tries to look back on what might've happened. Wonders if there's something he didn't see when he came back, or when he was away––

And that's when he realizes something.

Could he have put you in more danger when he came back to check on you? That he had accidentally sabotaged your takedown?

He sighs. He must've looked so pathetic in front of you getting grabbed like that–– but he's not sorry.

He had been doing that for your safety and for his own peace of mind–– he wasn't going to apologize for caring about you.

He'll make it up to you somehow.

The next time you go on another case together, which you two inevitably will, he'll make it up to you.

That, he promises.

He actually doesn't get to work with you again. So he decides that he can make it up to you by narrowing down the unsub's identity.

In fact, he hasn't seen you at all since the team first arrived at the crime scene.

You had been working with Hotch and Morgan on more field operations, leaving him with Elle and Penelope doing background checks on possible suspects. And while he wasn't with you, he'd like to think that he's still enjoying the company.

Well, that's what he would like to think.

He has no problems working with Elle. She was a nice colleague that seemed to occasionally humor his rants and got the job done quickly. And Penelope was someone that the both of you really got along with. Occasionally having this back and forth unique to the three of you.

But they weren't you.

Still. What he thought about you can wait later. He still has to think about his escape route if the two break out into a fight.

Right now, the three of them had staked out one Michael Russo who they anticipated would call his hitman, the suspected Unsub. They were hoping to get a name from what they could pick up from his end of the call, and they did.

Problem was,

"Russo's got eleven associates named Vincent." Spencer raised his brows at that.

Vincent is a name of Latin origins. He shouldn't be surprised that the mob had a handful of people with that name, but it was kind of too on the nose at this point.

"Oh, make that ten. Vincent Cellito died last summer. But here's something––Vincent Sartori."

He really wants to find this guy, so he chooses to keep looking through the list. Ignoring the growing tension between the two girls.

"Currently doing six at Dannemora for racketeering."

Spencer then speaks up again, "How about this Perotta? There's not much on him."

Garcia makes quick work to pull up what seemed to be deleted records and that's where they find something interesting.

"Alcohol addiction at 14, violent outbursts, assaults,–– Once threw a Molotov cocktail at someone sitting in their car." She can't believe what she's reading.

"Several notations for aggression," He adds, but this is where he sees something truly wrong.

"He once scheduled a visit to an infirmary to gain access to a–– boy who looked at him for too long?"

He really didn't want to meet this guy.

"No fear, no remorse, quick temper. And he was smart enough to stay off the radar as an adult," Elle interprets. "Paranoid personality. Could be our guy."

And he really didn't want you to meet him either.

All the evidence is stacking up against him though, so you just might have to. He just wished that nothing bad would happen when you did.

––––––––––

While right now they weren't sure if he was the unsub, he was definitely someone who fit their profile. He saw some LEO's bring in a guy who had essentially been cuffed at every limb, accompanied by Hotch and Gideon, but he had yet to see the others.

He sees Morgan, who is walking alongside Elle (she went to see what all the commotion was about) but with who he sees next, he feels his stomach drop. Heart rate spiking in contrast to an all time high that he's practically sure he has tachycardia.

"What happened to you!?"

He got up from his seat to run over but you just shake your head.

You had come back with your clothes and hair in disarray, a bleeding nose, and a a busted lip. A complete disparity to the normally clean-cut and professional look that you had strived to maintain.

Even when you had been tackled to the ground a few cases back, the damage wasn't nearly as bad as this.

It's Derek that answers his question for him though.

"Perotta hit your girl up in the head, Reid." He chooses to ignore the joke. Too worried as he tries to check on your head but you just softly squeeze his hands to reassure him before you push them away.

Still not looking at him as you finally speak.

"It wasn't that bad. He hesitated. It could've been worse."

He doesn't like your answer.

If you had just been hit in the head and yet your nose is bleeding, that was a clear sign of a concussion. And the cut on your lip had to be from a fall. On asphalt or onto another material, it didn't matter to him since both are just as bad.

As he expresses that, you just tell him to drop it and then move away from him.

Before he can say more however, Hotch comes back into the room with his usually stern expression. A bit of worry lacing his tone, Spencer notes, as he orders you.

"Go home."

He's staring you down, but it seemed you had a lot more to say to that.

"Sir Hotchner, I would be of much more use in here. It is imperative that all available resources are focused on the retrieval of James Baker." He sighs because you're right, but that doesn't seem enough to satisfy you.

The boy-genius hates it when you use reason to get your way.

"Fine. Help Reid and the others with the evidence. We can narrow down his area of operation from there. They should be arriving soon."

You shake your head adamantly. "Sir, I can handle the interrogation--"

"No you can't!"

Spencer surprises himself with his outburst, but you don't even turn to look at him.

It's Hotch that gives him a very pointed stare though before continuing,

"Reid is right, agent. We'll handle the interrogation, so please busy yourself here." He says it with a finality that is indicative of his departure but you stop him one last time. Hand going up to rest on your mentor's collar.

He sees you gesture to your own, and Spencer hears an intention in your voice that he can't quite understand.

"Let's not give him a weapon, sir. He's pretty strong."

He sees his boss nod, and he takes off his tie. Putting the cloth into your awaiting hand, and you grip it out of instinct.

Reid zones out as he sees this interaction in disbelief. Did you normally touch the others like this?

You had completely brushed off his concern, not even looking at him. And yet when it was your unit chief that told you to do so, you had simply followed?

He thought he was starting to become an exception to you, but had he been reading the signs wrong? It could very much be a possibility as he was never good at doing so.

Even later when he had been sifting through the bags from the suspect's van, you still didn't respond to him. Even going as far as to ignoring Penelope's offer to watch the tapes they had found in Perotta's van. Shaking your head, 'no' with a faraway look in your eyes.

Just what had exactly happened while he wasn't by your side?

At this point, Spencer’s convinced that you would never like him.

If not for you having eyes on literally anyone else but him, then definitely because he had disappointed you. Desecrated the honor that came with being an FBI agent.

Just because he had been distracted.

A whirlwind of emotions had been flurrying inside him since the very beginning of this case, but he swears that he had never meant for this.

He doesn't even remember how it happened. Which baffled him, given his memory. But he thinks it's because he couldn't have cared less about the past few hours.

He had been stuck babysitting Lila only because you had told him so. Entrusted him with her because you thought that he was the best person to guard her, to comfort her.

He didn’t know it was because you had a feeling he’d be safer by her side.

And some part of him was flattered that you had said all this about him. Especially when all Lila would hear from him were endless praises of your name, of your work, and your caring nature.

But another part of him felt ignored. Pushed aside.

He doesn't know when it had happened, but Hotch had stopped pairing you together some cases ago. Saying something about you needing physical training, though he sincerely doubted that.

He thought that things were going well between you two. He had just been trying to find the perfect window where you would see him in a good enough light.

A good enough light that would make you say 'yes' to going on a date with him.

He didn't even care that the pretty blonde was interested in him. He only agreed because you stressed her safety more than any other target thus far. But the attention that she was giving him?

That was all that he wanted from you.

All he'd been wanting for months.

And when he had kissed her, all he could think about was you. How it would've felt if it was you in his arms, how you would react if it had been you that he was touching.

But then immediately after, how you would react to him kissing another girl.

God, he was pathetic.

He knew that you had been having a hard time lately. And he also knew that it had a lot to do with your work, how he did his, and his safety. That was all you ever stressed about when you were with him.

If he was safe.

You'd think he'd learn that by now, but he hasn't. Which is why even when he knew all this, his heart still ached as he sees you cry into Morgan's arms. Sobbing like no tomorrow. All because of something he did.

All because he took all your hard work, that had been focused on keeping him alive, and essentially throwing it right back at your face.

His negligence did that.

And he supposes that now, he can't do anything to get into your good graces anymore. Not when Derek Morgan seemed to better at doing his job as a federal agent, and his job as your friend.

When he finally gets changed into dry clothes and enters Lila's house, he doesn't miss the way that you turn from him. He also doesn't miss the glare the other agent was giving him. Nor the careful hand that had been rubbing up and down your arm.

Something that he wished he could've been doing instead.

––––––––––

God, he wanted to be anywhere but here, considering this is where it all went downhill.

"Did you give Lila Archer a collage?" Gideon had started the interrogation, so even if he did want to leave, he couldn't.

"What?"

"There's a photographic collage above Lila Archer's sofa. She says you gave it to her."

But the faster that they could get this done, the faster he could apologize to you.

"So? I didn't make the damn thing." Parker had laughed out, clearly not comprehending the severity of the situation.

"So you just happened to give her a work of art containing most of her life in it?" Spencer pushed but was surprised to see his ex-classmate seemingly have no recollection of the situation at all.

Something was wrong.

If it wasn't him, then who––?

"I––no, no. Look, I lied. I just wanted her to like me. I met her here, and she was a fan of art. Someone gave me the piece to give to her, but I told her it was from me."

It can't be––

"I said I found it, and I thought she'd love it."

"And who gave it to you?" Morgan had finally asked.

"Her name's Maggie Lowe. She uh––She works on Lila's show."

When Spencer hears this, he immediately goes to call you on his phone. Maggie Lowe had gone to Juilliard with Lila and was the production assistant that he swore he saw go in and out of her trailer.

If he wasn't so distracted, he would've fucking noticed that.

But his phone doesn't even ring for a few moments before the call is declined.

What the fuck was happening?

Before he could ask anyone else, he heard Derek speak up.

“Sweet girl, listen to me. We have a name, and it’s ‘Maggie Lowe.’ We’re on our wa—" Spencer tries to talk to you through Morgan's phone, but is knocked off balance when the man turns around in shock.

"Christ man—we're on our way back over there, okay? Stay put and we’ll let Hotch and JJ know.” 

"Let me talk to her!" He practically begs, but before anyone could even understand what he was saying, the call is ended from your side.

"Reid, what the hell were you trying to do?"

He's shocked at his own actions too, but that's not what's on his mind right now.

"She dropped my call but she answered yours? And since when did you start calling her that?"

He knew it wasn't fair, especially after what he had done, but just when did you and him happen?

"Since you started being a dumbass. Get over yourself, kid."

Everyone then started making their way to the two SUV's parked outside, but Spencer took the one that Morgan was driving.

He wasn't done with this conversation.

He tries to call you again, but this time, it looks like the line is busy. What was going on, where were you? He tries Lila's phone, even though he's sure she won't pick up and nothing either.

He has half a mind to ask Morgan to call you, in case you were just being petty and ignoring him, but he feels his phone vibrate. He suddenly hears his phone ring, and he hurriedly answers without checking the caller ID.

Hoping that it would be you on the other hand as he called out your name.

"Nope, sorry hon, it's me." It was Garcia's voice, but it sounded like she was shaking. Sensing the urgency in her voice, he instinctively puts his phone on speaker.

"Reid, I need you to listen to me very carefully— I've already alerted officials in the area, but your unsub? Is in Lila Archer's house."

You can't keep doing this, he thinks. You can't keep scaring him like this, because he's starting to feel so sick.

He looks to his friend in the driver's seat and sees him nod when they make eye contact. Speeding up as they thank Penelope before she ended the call.

At this point, he could care less with how pathetic he might've looked. No longer caring about how uncool you thought he was, or whatever might've been going on between you and Morgan, or if you still had a crush on your boss— none of that.

They had left you behind with Lila and no one else.

Spencer had always feared that one day, no matter how strong or smart or clever you are, it's his negligence that'll place you on the receiving end of a killer's weapon. And that there's nothing that he can do to stop them from landing the finishing blow.

If the reason you were alone and held captive by some psychotic shooter was because he had pissed you off enough to even dismiss his help?

He might never forgive himself for it.

When they arrive, he immediately gets out of the car. Ready to run in and ambush Maggie by himself if he has to when Lila runs into his arms. Holding a gun in her hand as if it were a bomb.

A Glock 19 that he's seen you use since his first official cases on the team.

He notices Morgan, Elle, and Gideon were already out, but Hotch and JJ have still yet to arrive.

He knows that he should wait until further instructions. That there wasn't a protocol for this specific situation. Or maybe there was, but his IQ of 187 had always been slashed down to 60 whenever you were involved.

When he hears a gun fire from inside the house, he's the first one that starts running.

He's thankful that he wasn't alone when he did though.

By the time that Maggie had been apprehended, you were already well on your way to the nearest hospital. According to the clock from inside your room, and the news report that had been playing, a full twelve hours at the very least had passed since then.

You tried to remember what had happened. Tried to remember how you screamed for help once you had subdued her. How she shot you when you tackled her.

Probably with the intention to kill you, then herself had you not talked her out of it.

You groan as you feel the blooming pain in your side. Probably from the GSW that you're going to have to note in your action report.

And then you remembered how you realized what you felt for Spencer and the rest of the team.

You shake your head despondently.

When you look back on every situation where you had essentially put yourself on the line for his sake, you notice that you had really been doing that out of your own volition.

That you had been doing it because you didn't want him getting hurt.

You just didn't like that the the team was turning it into some sort of responsibility.

And sure. Maybe the others were complicit in pairing you up, or guilty for giving you odd looks, but they probably wouldn't have done that if it wasn't something you were already going to do.

God, you felt so pathetic.

You don't think you can handle looking at Spencer now. Not after your existential crisis, and certainly not after what you said before he left.

But luck has a way, so it seems, to constantly elude you.

You note this as you see the very man that you had been thinking of slowly opening the door and perking up when he sees your eyes on him.

Well, as perked up as he could be. Given the circumstances.

"How uh—, How are you? A-Are you...okay?"

You take in how he looks when he asks. Dark rings encircling his eyes, (he had been up all night waiting for you), usually neat hair in a mess (he had been running his hands through them nonstop), and shirt all crumpled from being hunched over for so long (a different one, because he just couldn't stand the vague scent on chlorine in his old one.)

Your heart sinks at the sight and you beckon him closer with your strong hand. Echoing his question.

"Are you okay, Dr. Reid?"

He lets out a shaky breath when he finally hears your soft voice again, slowly approaching you as he does. He was so worried that the last words he would hear from you would be your disappointment, but he persists.

"Can you please answer the question? I don't like it when you pretend like you're okay when you're obviously not."

His hand finds its way to trace little patterns on the back of yours. Occasionally looking up at to see if he was hurting you, before continuing when he sees that he isn't. Feeling too shy to do anything more.

You roll your eyes at the gesture. Flipping his hand to rest on the hospital bed and slipping yours on top of his. Giving it a soft squeeze.

"I could be better." You then squeeze his hand again. "Is this what you were trying to do?"

He thinks for a while, as if not really understanding your question, before nodding vigorously.

You smile at the sight but then feel your regret from a few hours ago come rushing back.

"I'm really sorry. For...everything." You don't think he knows what you're apologizing for, but you do it anyway.

If not now, when?

Spencer laughs a little at that but shakes his head. "Morgan told me about what you said. Back at Lila's. Well, more like he told everyone while we were waiting for you to wake up."

You nod. Suddenly feeling guilty for trying to make contact so you try to let go, but he only entangles your fingers once more. Intertwining them as much as he can since this is the closest that he can afford to have you right now.

He feels his lips tightening into a thin smile before he says what's been haunting him for the past few hours.

"I'm sorry that you had to deal with me for so long. I never meant to burden you like that or make your job harder."

"No, Spencer please," you start, rubbing the only part of his hand that you could reach with your thumb.

"You were never a burden. I was just—caught up in a bunch of things."

He doesn't miss how your usual eloquence evades you. Which gives him a bit of an idea as to how unscripted and vulnerable you were being with him right now.

And as much as he should hate this for you, he'd love it if you would learn to be a bit more vulnerable in front of him. Even if it was a departure from your usually starched blazers, pressed blouses, and clean-cut exterior.

He still thought you were cool just like this.

"Have I ever told you that I thought you were really cool?" You weakly snort at that.

"If by 'cool,' you mean constantly worrying about how everything could go wrong, then yeah. I'm super cool."

He shakes his head at that, but it looked like you weren't done.

"I think you looked cooler, though. Especially when you were next to the pool trying to dry your gun. You looked like a wet rat."

He groans at the mention but you continue to tease him.

"Hey, you were a handsome wet rat. Still a rat, but... you know. From Vegas. Arguably not as bad as the ones from New York. Now though, you're a handsome dry rat."

Now that, he just wines at. You weren't being fair.

How could you make him go through all this and then say that?

Did you know what kind of effect you have on him?

The two of you continue to sling back jokes at the other, a common thing you used to do before things went south. And just enjoying each other's presence.

Holding his hand as you absentmindedly started massaging it. He didn't even notice how his hand had been shaking since the moment you first held onto it.

He was so so glad you were alive. That you were still here, with him. And there's no place he would rather be than where you were.

"So. How about you start telling me what you've been up to while I've been knocked out, hm? What have you learned, genius?"

He's learned a quite a lot, while you were away.

He learned that he should probably encourage you to have more breaks. Learned that you should both talk to each other, and everyone, a bit more. And he learned that you two weren't so different after all.

He's also learned how much he really liked your smile, your laugh, your soft touch, and the way that his name fell from your lips.

He doesn't tell you any of this, however.

Opting to instead tell you about the numerous facts he's picked up during the case, and how much he hated Hollywood.

[a/n] And with that, this marks the end of this specific timeline! I've honestly loved writing with this reader's specific personality in mind, and I'm looking forward to how she'll mellow out when she learns to be more honest.

I have a few ideas for one shots regarding this specific dynamic, but if you enjoyed it as much as I did, please tell me what you thought about this short series! And if you have any idea on what you'd like to see next from these dumbasses, send an ask my way!

Thank you so much for liking them thus far.

Like my work? Consider tipping me!!

[renranram]

Baby making ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

nsfw + fluff

it's literally the title lmfao 😭

let's all be honest here and be straight to the point, schlatt wants to impregnate you ever since he saw you interacting with kids in unpaid intern

ludwig knew by putting both of you two in his show would make great content but he didn't expect he'll actually be an uncle soon

“ baby “ schlatt leans in as you work on editing a new video of yours, “ hm? yeah? “ you look up at him as you lower down your headphones

“ can't you edit later? wanna kiss you “ he states, whiney as he starts pecking your neck, you gasping, feeling his teeth sink in, “ jay… i dont think that's kissing “ you pat his back, hoping to crack a joke

“ y/n… be honest with me okay? “ he pause, pulling away as he faces you, cupping your cheeks as he continues, “ what do you think about children? “ he asks out

as you burst out chuckling, finding him adorable by saying that in a straight face, oblivious of his intentions

“ what? don't laugh im being serious “ he couldn't help but chuckle as he fixes your hair, “ no… it's just… i thought it was gonna be a serious question then you asked me about babies “ you smile

“ it is serious “ he defends himself, smiling at you as you take a deep breath, calming down as you nod, “ uhm… well… i like children..? “

schlatt looks at you weirdly, teasing you, “ ay! i dont mean it that way! “ you playfully hit your fiancé

“ i meant… i wanna take care of children, im happy to take care of children “ you explain thoroughly, as schlatt continues to tease you, as he cocks up one of his eyebrow

“ oh shut up schlatt, you know what i mean “ you chuckle as schlatt sighs, pecking your cheek, “ … okay okay i get it… but you know.. uh.. what about our own children? “

“ our children? “ you repeat, blinking in surprise, “ h-huh…? “ you ask as schlatt caresses your hair

“ toots… i… wanna have children with you “ schlatt confesses, “ our marriage is in 3 weeks… “

“ come on… please… ever since lud’s show… i wanna just… fucking bend you over and fill you up with babies toots.. “ he leans his face on your neck, as your body shivered, feeling his hot breath on your neck

“ jay..! “ you exclaim, surprised, “ what? if you've only seen yourself taking care of those kids, you dont realize how much im excited to wife you up and make you carry my children so badly “ he caresses you hair

“ y/n… babe… please “ he starts pecking your neck, “ toots… please… let me fill you up, let me see you carry our children “

“ … jay “ that's the word that you can mutter out, “ can we do it? “ he gently asks as you take a deep breather, before slowly nodding, “ … okay “

“ fuck… im gonna make love to you all night holy shit “ he chuckles in success as he easily carries you up from your desk as you squeal, surprised

the two of you lock lips, kissing eachother as schlatt holds your back for support before gently setting you down on your guy's bed, hungrily devouring your lips but being so gentle as he slips his hand in your shirt

fondling with your breast, that's why he preferred whenever you don't wear any bras, for easy access if yk what i mean

he gently removes your shirt, liking how your nipples perk up, as he breaks the kiss a string of saliva connects your lips, as he kisses your breast, his lips sucking on your nipples as he looks up at you with those endearing eyes of his

“ angh… jay “ you moan out as he trace kisses all over your body until it reaches your hips, his hand gently guiding you as he removes your pants and panties

“ does it feel good? “ he asks, as he threw your last piece of clothing on your bedroom's floor, as you nod in response, “ i want you to feel so good okay? “ schlatt smiles

as he gently divides your legs, making you spread out for him, “ fuck… how do you get this wet so easily? “ schlatt states before gently entering a finger in, causing you to gasp

“ because… you make me so wet “ you chuckle softly as schlatt chuckes too, slowly thrusting his finger in and out as he leans in to peck your clit

he savors your pussy as he digs himself in, tasting you as he moans out while you arch your back in pleasure, holding onto his hair as you moan his name out, “ jay… fuck “

he swirls his tongue in, fucking your hole with his tongue, he can feel your flaps flutter as he continues on

he licks your clit, swirling his tongue around it even sucking it, “ feels so good toots? feels so good hm? “ he repeats, mumbling as he eats you out

“ yes… yes… ah… schlatt “ you gently pulls on his hair as he continues to thrust his finger in while tongue fucking you, adding another finger causing you to gasp again as you rolls your eyes back

you wrap your legs around his head, locking him in as he notices your breath fastening, you're close, he continues to lick you out as your moans are getting louder and louder every second

“ b-babe… ugh… im cumming “ you breathe out but immediately regretted it as schlatt pulls away, as you whine, “ what the fuck “ you groan out, now pouting

“ dont look at me like that “ schlatt chuckles, “ im not letting my wife get an orgasm because i ate her out “ he replies as he unties his jogs, lowering it revealing his hard dick, not wearing any underwear since it's only you two home

“ remember, our focus here is getting you pregnant with our healthy babies, not tongue fucking you until you're pleasured “ he smiles, teasing you as he pats your cheek, pecking you

he slowly pushes his tip in, teasing you as he rubs it on your clit, “ then get me pregnant already… you're just teasing me at this point “ you pout as he slaps the side of your hips

“ so impatient, are you this eager to be a mother already? “ schlatt pushes his whole size in, gasping, feeling his dick fill you up, you can feel it throbbing inside you

“ fuck! “ you gasp out, as schlatt holds your hips, slamming his dick inside of you, as you gasp again, moaning, enjoying how you easily bounce off just from a thrust

“ you look more prettier like this, “ he teases you, leaning in as he folds your body in half just to able to lock lips with you again, “ i should fuck you everyday so we can be sure you get pregnant “ he added

his rolls his hips, his hands trailing all over your body, touching every part of you, his hands trace your curves, admiring your shape and body

kissing your forehead, cheek, neck, everywhere, this man makes you feel loved everytime, “ you're gonna look so pretty with my kids, yeah? “ schlatt fucks you up

“ you're gonna be my little pretty wife okay, gonna see you carry our kids, gonna make you be a pretty little housewife “

after saying those you can feel his pace fasten, god, it really does feel different without the rubber, you thought, as your room fills with moans, skin slapping, thrusts, groans and squelches

“ ah ngh jay- jay- please… “ you moan out, pulling on his hair as you can feel him throb, his thrusts getting aggressive every second as your body limps in pleasure

“ im cumming.. im cumming.. baby, toots.. ugh.. im gonna fill you up, im gonna fill you up with my babies, you're gonna… fuck… look so pretty pregnant, you're gonna be the most prettiest.. fucking housewife ever “ schlatt starts to peck your face before catching your lips

the two of you kiss, your tongues tangled with eachother as he finally cums inside of you, while you squirt your juices, unison with his orgasm, schlatt pulls out, chuckling in amusement as he sees his semen leaks out of you

“ fuck… you're gonna be a the mother of our children soon “ he smiles, pushing his finger in to keep his semen from leaking

-

a full year had passed, your child was finally brought on the world, you sigh out as you publish a new video, as you look behind, seeing schlatt was holding your daughter, carrying her as he smiles at you

“ is she asleep? “ you stand up, approaching them, “ surprisingly yeah, she's been behaving for me “ schlatt gently caresses your daughter face

admiring as the 3 month old scrunches her face in her sleep, “ she's a big mama’s girl huh? “ you ask, as schlatt nods, “ i think she loves you more than me “

“ but in her defense, if you're my mom id prefer you “ schlatt jokes as you chuckle, leaning your head onto his shoulder

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Platonic ¡yan! Dick Grayson x Batsis x Jason Todd

A/N: Another discussion post because we need to talk about Grayson! Thank you for your contribution, mootie! You are so good at bouncing off of ideas. I hope you don’t mind me writing this🤭

@siririus

Context

Masterlist

Craziest thing about all of this is, it's a paradox. Is Dick really only this upset because his batsis is prefers Jason?....Or is it also because it's almost like she's taking his brother away from him and they are becoming each others favorites?

In the previous post, i said how dick has a fear of being pushed to the side and forgotten. He's scared of no longer being needed anymore and this relationship kind of symbolizes that. You never needed Dick, even in the beginning. Jason leaned on Dick a lot as they knew each other the longest and it took so much work to mend the fractures in it. Now Jason is confiding in you more...you understand each other way more.

It's a complex issue.

One solution you might say is just for them to form some kind of trio...But he's tried. LOL Grayson has crashed many of your hangout sessions to use it as an opportunity to become close to you.

He knows you won't leave because you like Jason too much and he also gets to spend time with his brother. perfect. NOT.

Dick cannot seem to grasp the concept that you and Jason have a "parallel play" kind of thing going on. Like you mentioned Jason is subtle. He's not really trying to do something over the top, he just wants to chill and do his own thing. SO you guys might chat for like five minutes then he turns around to go read his book while you're playing a phone game. It's enough for you two to just be near. But Dick, he's internalizing it. He thinks you stopped talking because he's there. He thinks you guys are having way more action packed hangouts when you're alone. To him, just sitting next to each other isn't "hanging out".

He'll try to keep pushing for a conversation and you guys are like...eh. Or he'll try to force you all to do fun games ect. and it usually ends with you leaving first or Jason getting upset then you walking out together.

But that couch thing is so funny. I think that Dick would've been like waving you down to sit next to him all smiley and he has your favorite snacks in a cute little box but Jason just motions his head and you choose that. Stab right in the heart. He's not even watching the movie anymore, he's just paying attention to you guys.

Do not fall asleep on Jason. I think that'll high key bring Dick to tears. He wants that so badly. Dick is super physically affectionate but he's constantly craving hugs and all of that. You falling asleep on Jason reminds him of when Jason and him would have sleepovers in the living room, and Jason would always end up sleeping on his shoulder or lap.

He's tried hugging you before but you just go incredibly stiff and shaky so it's not even fulfilling to him. He wants to carry you on his back, do your hair in the mornings, cuddles, handshakes..ect. He wants to be your best friend. I do think you just even holding his hand would calm him down or holding his arm would help him to feel better.

He does attempt the subtlety of Jason. It doesn't really work the same way because well, he cannot contain himself. He's feral. Plus you assume the seat is for Cass or Babs instead so you never choose it. Like he gets to the dinner table first, saves the seat for you, and you sit next to him but he makes it so weird AHHAHA. Like he's trying to remain calm but he's breathing so hard. You finally chose him. (it was the only seat left) BUT YOU CHOSE HIM. You didn't scurry away like usual. He's just staring at you because he's so happy and you are sending help signals to Jason who is finding this all very amusing. Dick, wont stop talking either and he keeps filling up your plate with food. He gives you a corner piece of the brownie..he loves you so much.

[sparkleofpizza]

The Alchemy

Lando Norris x fem!reader

The beginning.

THE 2019 SEASON

Melbourne, Australia, 2019

I was nervous, I knew you shouldn't be, but I was.

The sun was shining bright down at the Melbourne Circuit, you could hear the delighted conversations from fans just outside of the motorhome. Everyone was excited for the upcoming season of Formula 1, with new drivers and grid line up changes. And I was one of the new faces at the paddock, although not a driver.

I’ve been no stranger to this whole life at the paddock and following Formula 1. I grew up with it as I’d follow my father around since the moment i learned how to walk.

Jenson Button, former Formula 1 driver and world champion. I carried my last name with pride, I love my dad more than anything in the world, but the moment I showed genuine interest in the motorsport world people started to talk.

So now, I can't help but wonder, what is everyone going to say the minute you walk into the paddock as not a guest, but as a McLaren intern.

Sure, I will be the first to admit that having the Button last name did help I get this internship, but I conclude the training to be here on your effort, with my intelligence, my studies and everything I prepared myself for.

I knew working at the PR department didn't come easy in the motorsport world, I not only had to deal with PR, reporters, FIA, and the drivers, but you had to understand the dynamic of the sport, of the car, and everything else in case I needed to step up to give a statement on behalf of a driver or the team.

I spent countless days, in 2018, going over the FIA regulations, learning about the cars, all while taking classes in UNI and juggling the McLaren PR training.

Someone called out my name in a soothing manner. I lifted your head, meeting Sophie's smile. Behind her there were two men, one standing tall and proud and the other a bit more awkwardly. I knew very well who they were as I will be working close to them.

"Hi, Sophie." I smile at her "Would you like to join me for coffee?"

She nods, taking a sit across from me and gesturing the two men to do the same.

"I wanted to introduce you three properly since you'll be working close together." She says "These are our 2019 drivers, Carlos Sainz and Lando Norris. This is Y/n, she is our new PR intern."

I smile at both of them.

“It’s nice to finally meet you both.”

Carlos smiles “Likewise, I hope we get along well, the three newbies of McLaren.”

I laugh at his little joke and Lando follows suit with his own laughter that is a bit too contagious.

He seems a bit shy, maybe it’s because it’s his first season in Formula 1 and he feels like he has a lot to prove. In a sense I relate to him. We’re both here to show we’re good and deserve to be here.

And without even speaking for more than 5 minutes with him, I can already feel that we’re going to be friends soon enough.

Xangai, China, 2019

I have my back turned to the door of McLaren hospitality as I fumble with the coffee machine. It’s very early in the morning on Friday, a few hours away from the start of free practice. I am feeling exhausted from the long flight from England to China and the different time zones.

“It seems like the coffee machine is winning the fight.” A voice cut through the silence of the hospitality.

I turn around to find Lando standing beside me with a smile on his face, showing his dimples and amusement.

“I can’t get it to make coffee, I think it’s broken.” I complain with a huff

“Did you turn it on?” He asks me amused

“What?”

“Did you turn on the machine?”

“Of course I…” He reaches his arm across from me, pushing a button and the coffee machine beeps before finally brewing my coffee. I feel my cheeks go warm in embarrassment “Sorry, I’m uh still half asleep.”

He giggles, that infectious laugh of his that I always find myself smiling and giggling along whenever I hear it. If there is one thing I have already learned from Lando, it's that it’s nearly impossible to be serious around him. He carries this natural good natured aura, and he’s funny and likes to make jokes and see the good side of things. And whenever I’m around him I find myself a giggling mess.

We grab our cups of coffee and take a seat at one of the comfortable arm chairs at the corner of the room.

“You look tired.” Lando points out, sipping his coffee.

“I’m jet lagged, and I had a paper to turn in for uni so I stayed up until late and I only got a few hours of sleep on the plane because I had to review the questions for yesterday’s press conference.” I tell him, basically chugging down my coffee “Do you think I’d get fired if I drank Red Bull?”

He shakes his head.

“You should get some sleep during FP1.” He tells me

I sigh “Yeah, but it’s not really worth the drive back to the hotel, I will probably only manage a twenty minute nap before I have to come back here.”

“You can nap in my driver's room.” He offers, a friendly smile on his face

“Oh, no, I can’t accept it.” I shake my head “Thank you, thought.”

Lando smiles, leaning over the armrest of his seat to get closer to me.

“I insist. You need sleep to be on top of your game. Come on.” He stands up offering his hand. I eye it for a moment before accepting it. He pulls me up to my feet.

He guides me through the corridors of the hospitality until we reach his driver’s room. He opens the door and I’m a bit surprised at how neat it looks. I half expected it to be a mess of clothes.

“Here, you can sleep on the couch, it isn’t much but it’s better than nothing.”

“Thank you.” I smile, sitting on the couch and taking off my shoes.

I get into a comfortable position, curling up on the couch and instantly closing my eyes. I feel something soft covering me and I open my eyes a bit confused.

“I don’t have a blanket.” Lando says, his cheeks turning red. “So I uh… covered you with my jacket.”

I feel my chest grow warm at his sweet gesture. I smile at him.

“Thank you, Lando.”

He smiles back at me, and at that moment, I think is when I started to have a crush on him.

Barcelona, Spain, 2019

I should have expected Spain to be a bit insane considering the fact that I work with a Spanish driver. The minute I stepped out of the car with Carlos following behind me, the fans started to scream and throw themselves at us.

I’m not unfamiliar with the whole passionate fans wanting pictures and autographs, but since I used be a toddler or a child, they at least head the decency to not push and pull at my dad because I was clinging to him.

But now I am an adult, and they don’t care about those things anymore and I had never been mobbed by fans before without having my dad or my uncles by my side.

The fans screamed at Carlos who was doing his best to attend each and every single one of them. And things only got worse when Lando arrived and they suddenly wanted pictures of the best new funny duo of the grid.

They pulled at me, shoving pictures on my face to get them to sign since I worked with them, and they yelled questions about what it was like to work with the both young drivers.

I tried to step away, get away from them fans, but I was stuck in between the mass of people and to make matters worse they managed to separate me from Carlos and Lando who were looking at me concerned over the chaos.

“What the fuck?! What the fuck is going on?” A harsh loud voice cut through the yell of fans “Stop pulling at her! Get your hands off of her!”

Suddenly a tall blonde man dressed in red was pushing the fans away from me, shielding me with his body as he yelled.

I cling to the back of Sebastian's Ferrari shirt, telling like a little girl again, but completely relieved that he was there with me with his familiar force of comfort he always knew how to bring me.

He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, gluing me to his side and I knew if I wasn’t 20 years old anymore he would have picked me up and carried me like a toddler out of this mess. He glared at everyone who tried to get in our way and stirred me inside the paddock.

“Prinzessi.” Sebastian called me the same nickname from when he first met me as a newborn “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

I shake my head “No, I’m… I’m fine.” I say, but my voice is shaky and he can tell that I’m holding back tears.

He places his hands on my shoulders, peering down at me with intense concerned eyes as he scans my body to look for any injury.

“What the hell is wrong with you both?” Sebastian yells the minute Lando and Carlos finally catch up to us “They were eating her alive!”

They look sheepish and terrified of being scolded by the German who looks lived with anger.

“She’s your PR assistant, but you’re supposed to keep your fans in check to keep her safe!” Sebastian continues with the harsh tone “She could have gotten hurt! They were touching her and shoving her! That was so reckless from the both of you!”

They nod, stiffly.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Vettel.” Lando says, eyes wide “I promise this will never happen again. I’ll- I’ll make sure she is safe at all times from now own. I- I swear!”

Sebastian doesn’t correct him on the Mr. Vettel name calling, he nods still with a glare.

“Come on, prinzessin.” He says in a much more soft tone, his arm resting against my shoulder in a protective parental manner “Let’s get you to Ferrari, uh? I will get you one of those chocolate pastries you love so much.”

With one final glare Sebastian takes me away from them. The McLaren drivers share a confused look as they watch me walk away.

Monte Carlo, Monaco, 2019

The Monaco Grand Prix is always a big event. Lots of celebrities and former drivers gather in the city to watch the historical race, and that’s how I find myself sitting at the McLaren hospitality chatting away with uncle Nico while my dad gets us drinks.

“Are you sure you don’t want to watch the race from Mercedes, uncle Nico?” I ask him, making my best innocent look that always got me away with things when I was younger and probably until this day when it comes to the drivers who watch me grow up.

“No, of course not.” Nico Rosberg shakes his head, a found and almost proud smile on his face “This is the first race I am watching this season in person and you’re officially a Formula 1 employee, I’m staying all weekend here with you at McLaren.”

I want to argue with him that I’m not technically a F1 employee as I’m just an intern, but he gives me a pointed look and I only nod.

“So, what is this that I hear about you and a rookie driver?”

I widen my eyes as I look at him.

“What? What are you talking about?”

Nico laughs at me “Seb has told me that you’ve become inseparable from the rookie McLaren driver, Norris.”

I huff, I should have known uncle Sebastian would open his mouth and gossip about me to his retired friends.

As if being summoned, Lando walked into the McLaren hospitality, wearing his cap backwards and smiling big as always. Carlos is beside him as usual and they both make their way over once they spot me.

“Hola, pequenita.” Carlos greets me, ruffling my hair affectionately before spotting Nico sitting across for me and getting a bit embarrassed.

Lando stands beside me ready to make a joke when he notices Carlos’ expression and widening his eyes when he sees Nico as well.

“Hello, Nico.” Carlos greets him

“Carlos, always good to see you.” He smiles before turning to Lando “And you must be one of the 2019 rookies, Lando?”

Lando nods quickly “Yeah, yeah. That’s me, nice to meet you Mr. Rosberg.”

Nico’s smile widens as Lando addresses him as Mr. Rosberg, feeling pleased with himself. I shot him a warning glare.

“Please, join us.” He says, motioning for the boys to the empty seats.

Lando sits beside me as Carlos sits across from me, leaving one empty space at the head of the table.

Nico makes light conversation, asking mostly questions about Formula 1, but I could see the glint in his eyes every time he asked Lando something, who seemed incredibly shy at receiving attention from a World Champion.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to get the drinks, I ran into some old friends.” My dad says walking to the table with a glass of my favorite refreshing drink to have in Monaco “There you go, sweetheart.”

I smile, accepting the drink “Thank you, dad.”

Lando and Carlos both choke on their saliva at the same time when they hear me call Jensen Button my dad.

“Ah, just the men I wanted to meet!” He exclaims “Carlos, Lando, you both have been doing such good jobs here at McLaren. My daughter talks a lot about you.”

I watch as they become flustered over the news. My dad smiles, taking a sit at the head of the table.

“I heard you both let her get swamped by a mob of fans?” He asks with a smile, but I can see the hard look in his eyes.

“Dad!” I scold him “Uncle Seb already gave them a hard time!”

My father chuckles, soon being followed by Nico. Carlos and Lando’s eyes are wide and they look terrified.

“I know, I know.” My dad lifts his hands in surrender “I’m just messing with them. But I still have eyes and ears on the paddock so…”

“Dad!” I scold him once more.

He laughs again and finally switch subjects, talking about the new grid line up of this year and asking questions to Lando and Carlos who seem to become a bit more comfortable at the presence of Jenson Button and Nico Rosberg.

Hockenheim, Germany, 2019

Lando was in a bad mood, I could tell it from far away. He was moving frantically around the garage and he had a scowl on his face.

The past five races have been of ups and downs from him, he had two DNF, one race out of top ten because he got p11 and two races where he scored points. But he was pissed off still from his p11 on his home race in England.

It also didn’t help that the reporter he got placed with decided to improvise some questions that wasn’t pre approved and it made Lando uncomfortable with the way he was pressing on the matter of him doing a bad job at his home race.

And then, to make matters worse, he DNFed again today.

“Lando.” I say his name in a soft tone

He whips his head quickly towards me, a deep frown on his face.

“It wasn’t your fault.” I say, I place a hand on his forearm, squeezing it in reassurance “It’s raining terribly today, everyone is spinning.”

He huffs annoyed.

“I should be good at racing in the rain.” He complains.

“How many times have you raced in this circuit?” I ask him, calmly.

“Well- this was the first time, but…”

I cut him off “And how many times have you raced in the rain in a Formula 1 car?”

Lando blinks at me as he answers “This was also the first time.”

I nod, my thumb rubbing sof circles on his forearm.

“And how do you expect to be good at something you’re doing for the first time?”

He looks away from me, and I can tell he is staring to consider my words.

“Valtteri has been doing this for a long time and he also crashed.” I tell him.

That get him to look at me again, his frown turning into something a bit more hopeful.

“Bottas didn’t finish the race?”

I shake my head “No, he didn’t. Even the experienced ones are having a hard time out there. This is only your first race in the rain, Lando.”

He sighs, and slowly he nods his head. He shifts his arm, making my hand slide down and towards his. His hand is much bigger than mine and it’s warm despite the cold weather from the rain. He squeezes my hand.

“Thank you. I just-…”

I smile at him, squeezing his hand back.

“It’s okay. I get it.”

And for the first time since he DNFed, I saw Lando’s dimples as he smiled at me.

Marina Bay, Singapore, 2019

Singapore has always been a hard circuit. The warmth and humidity did no good for the drivers to be racing for long periods of time. Still, it’s one of my favorite circuits because I find it beautiful to watch the race at night.

I’m watching from the McLaren garage, this time considering the hot weather conditions, they allowed the PR team to wear lighter clothes, so I’m in a simple dress, standing close to the AC and sipping water every few minutes.

I wince when I watch Carlos spin and crash into the barrier. The garage grows quiet for a minute.

“He’s ok!” His race engineer announces and we all finally breath normally again

A few moments later Carlos enters the garage with an annoyed look on his face. He places his helmet on one of the shelves and go to speak to his team.

I keep my eyes trained on the screen to watch Lando’s progress while I look for the schedule of reporters who want a world with Carlos after his DNF.

I accept the request of two journalists and move over to where Carlos is.

“Hey… you ready for some interviews?” I ask, eyeing him

He clenched his jaw before nodding and following me out of the garage and onto the media pan.

I give out instructions to him on the way there and step back when he positions himself to give the interviews. I watch intensely, jotting out necessary information on my iPad and ready to intervene at any given moment, but despite the bad situation, the interviews go smoothly and soon enough we’re back at the garage.

Carlos excuses himself to go shower and change clothes, clearly not in the mood for conversation.

In a blur of moments I watch as uncle Seb wins the Singapore Grand Prix, a proud smile on my face. Lando finishes in p7 which is great since he’s on the pointing zone.

“Congratulations, Lando. You did a really good job today!” I tell him

His smile grows bigger “Thank you, thank you!”

Even though he’s happy, I can notice the tiredness ok his face. He’s completely drenched in swest and I can see the slightly tremor of his hands, probably about to begin an hypoglycemic episode without even realizing.

“Hey, why don’t you take a sit?” I say, gently grabbing both his arms and walking him to a chair. I move quickly as I push my water bottle into his hands and search for a snack “Here.”

Lando looks at me a bit confused, but obliged.

“Oh.. wow.” He chuckles “How did you even know how to do this? I didn’t even realize I was feeling weak.”

I smile, my hand twitches at my side as I feel the want to run my fingers over his curls.

“I’ve been on the watching side of this sport since I learned how to walk. I learned a thing or two.”

He nods, still munching on the chocolate protein bar I gave him.

“Yeah… I uh sometimes forget you’re the Jenson Button’s daughter.”

“I’m glad you do.”

Lando tilts his head to the side, confused, but doesn’t say anything and I’m grateful for that.

Austin, United States, 2019

The season is coming to an end, thankfully. All the traveling, working and university studying at the same time has been taking a toll on me. It is too much, and I could see it every time I woke up and looked at myself in the mirror. The circles staring back at me.

My body was sore, my throat scratchy and my head hurt. I knew the flu was making it’s way to dominate my body.

Still, I put on makeup to cover up my sickness face and went to the paddock for media day.

“Buenos dias!” Carlos greeted me once I entered the van and sat across from him and beside Lando who was bouncing with energy on the seat

“Good morning.” I say, cringing a little at the way my voice sounded

Lando frowned, pushing his face close to mine to examine me.

“What’s wrong?” He asked in a low voice, his brows furrowing

“Nothing’s wrong.”

Still, he kept analyzing me. From the corner of my eyes I could see Carlos lips turn upwards in a smile he hid behind his phone as he scrolled through it.

Lando said my name slowly, softly.

“You look sick.”

I pout slightly as I say “Geez, thank you for saying I look terrible.”

He huffs, clearly not finding my attempt to brush it off as funny as I did. He lifted his hand up before placing it on my forehead.

“You’re hot.”

“Oh, so now I’m…”

“Stop trying to deflect it.” Lando cuts me off before I can make another joke. “You’re sick. Why didn’t you say anything? You should be in bed resting.”

I shake my head, getting away from his hand.

“I’m not sick. I’m great. I’m just jet lagged and a bit tired, nothing some coffee won’t fix.”

Lando frowns and it takes me by surprise to see the irritated look on his face directed at me. Sure, I’ve seen him mad before when the race doesn’t go the way expected or when the media gets too much, but never aimed at me.

“I’ve seen you jet lagged and tired before and this is not it.”

I say his name in a sigh and he says my name in a warning. We stared at each other for what feels like forever, before Carlos giggles at us and says we arrived at the paddock.

The minute I get out of the van I start to quickly walk inside the paddock, scanning my pass, knowing the guys will stop to talk to the fans and I will be free of Lando’s questioning. I start to make my way to the McLaren hospitality when I feel a large hand land on my shoulder.

I flinch in surprise, whipping my head around and finding Lando beside me, still frowning.

“Lando.” I try to sound stern as I say his name, but it gets mixed up with a cough I try to hold in.

That only makes his frown deepen. He starts to drag me somewhere.

“You’re going to the medic center now.” He says, stern.

I complain and try to stand still, but he is taller, bigger and much stronger than me so he basically drags me.

I can see some people turning around to look at us, but I keep telling him to let go.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Sebastian shows up in front of us, hands on his waist and I know that behind his sunglasses he is glaring at Lando. “What is going on here?”

“She’s sick and she’s being stubborn about it.” Lando says, still holding onto my shoulder “So I’m taking her to the medic center.”

Sebastian frowns, placing his sunglasses on top of his head as he takes a step closer to me.

“I’m not sick.” I say “Lando is being dramatic. Tell him to leave me alone.”

“She is sick! She even has a fever!”

Sebastian looks between the two of us, but he knows me long enough to know I am lying. He places a hand on my forehead.

“Norris ir right, you do have a fever, prinzessin.”

“No I don’t.” I say stubbornly.

He arches an eyebrow, as if challenging me.

“Do you want me to carry you to the medic center like you’re still a tiny baby?” He asks and I shake my head quickly, knowing very well he isn’t bluffing “Then let Norris take you and follow everything the medics say.”

“But Sebby!” I whine.

“Prinzessin.” He gives me an unimpressed look “Go to the medic center with Norris, now. And I’m not asking, I am telling you to go.”

I huff with a pout, knowing I won’t win this argument so I let Lando take me to the medic center while Sebastian watches from the distant as the McLaren rookie fusses over me.

Abu Dhabi, Saudi Arabia, 2019

The paddock was busier than ever, so many people with so many big smiles and shouts of happiness.

It’s the last race of the season and it leaves a bittersweet feeling on my chest. On one hand I am extremely happy that the season is finally over and I will be able to go back to a somewhat normal routine, going to college everyday, normal sleep schedules, as normal as an university student sleep schedule can go, and staying at home for a bit.

But at the same time, I am upset about being away from Formula 1 for the time being. I got used to seeing Lando and Carlos everyday, they are already a big important part of my life. I like the thrill of being in a different place every other week, of learning new things and watching the races.

I’m sitting at the VIP lounge section at the rooftop, overlooking the paddock bustling with activities. I’m sipping an Italian soda while I soak in the last moments of the 2019 season.

I don’t say anything as Lando slips quietly on the seat beside me. He has dark sunglasses perched on the top of his nose and he’s wearing a black McLaren shirt. His thigh brushes my slightly to gather my attention.

I shift in my seat to look at him and he already has that dimple smile on his face.

“It’s been a long year, huh?” He says quietly

I nod, smiling softly at him.

“It has been… feels like it was yesterday that I meet you and Carlos on my first day at the paddock.”

He hums, reaching out for my glass of Italian soda and taking a sip without even asking for it. I don’t mind, it’s normal between us by now.

“How was your first year as a Formula 1 employee?” He asks

“Better than I expected to be honest.” I tell him, playing with the hem of my dress “I didn’t get bad words from people for being Jenson Button’s daughter.”

Lando nods, understanding what I’m hinting at.

“You’ve been doing a good job, I think you’ve proved yourself here.”

“No, I haven’t yet.” I tell him. “But what about you? How was your first year as a Formula 1 driver?”

His smile widens “It was insane. Sometimes still feels like I’m dreaming. I know the results I’ve been getting aren’t ideal yet, but being here… it’s great.” I can tell he’s happy by the way his eyes lit up “I got so luck to have a good teammate.”

I nod, he sure indeed found a friend in Carlos.

“And even luckier to have the most beautiful and incredible PR intern.”

My cheeks grow hot the minute my brain register and processes his words. I lift my eyes to look at him, his cheeks are also tinted pink and he was a sweet smile on his face.

We stare at each other for a moment, only gazing in each others eyes. I reach for his hand and he squeezes mine in his big one.

“Will you be here with me next year?” Lando asks in a soft tone.

“Yes.” I breath out “I’ll be here with you next year.”

[peachsukii]

I've got Kirishima on the brain today and thinking about a soulmate magic AU where he's a wandering adventurer, aimlessly trudging through the forest when he stumbles upon your cozy cottage. Normally, he'd keep his focus and remain on course to get to town, but something about your home drew him in, too magnetic for him to walk away.

He knocks on your door, perplexed on what to say if you answer and prepares to bolt when the door creaks open, partially revealing your face. The scent of warm cinnamon mixed with smoke invades his senses as he stands there with a dumbfounded look on his face.

"Are you lost?" you ask, opening the door fully to reveal yourself and tilting your head with curiosity. "The nearest town is a few miles north of here. You can't miss it."

Oh...wow. You're so pretty, and yet, you look familiar.

There's no way he'd know who you were, you just met.

"Uh...no?" Kirishima responds with uncertainty, hoping it didn't make him look like a fool. "Just a little out of it from traveling all day and was passing by. I'm sorry for bothering you, I'll keep heading north to town."

You step to the side and motion for him to join you in your home. "It's quite alright, I don't get company often. Come in, you can rest for a bit."

He doesn't hesitate to enter, taking in the decorations of your beautiful cottage - dried herbs, flowers and plants of all kinds. Your fireplace is flickering away with a pot nestled over top of it, the liquid inside bubbling rapidly.

"Sit, I just made some tea. I'll pour you some," you insist, pulling one of the wooden chairs out from the small table by the fire. Kirishima settles and puts some of his belongings on the floor to lighten the weight on his tired body. That's when he notices a warming sensation coming from his chest, but not internally...externally. When he tugs at the pendant around his neck, the normal white crystal has turned pearlescent, shimmering dimly beneath his traveler's gear like a firefly.

'What...is happening?' he thinks to himself, suddenly remembering his mother's words before he departed on his current outing.

"Remember son, that pendant has been passed down in our family for generations. It has guided each of the Kirishima's to their fated partner and has yet to fail. When it glows, that's the sign of finding said partner - your soulmate, the one you will carry on the Kirishima name with."

Kirishima begins to sink into his thoughts, lost to the overwhelming notion that he stumbled upon the home where his soulmate lived. There's no way that a stranger in the woods could be...

Wait a second.

Now that he's analyzing the insides of your home, he realizes his crucial mistake and why he recognizes you.

You're the wicked witch everyone back home warned him about, isolated to the forest and banned multiple cities on the coast, your face plastered on numerous posters around his hometown.

"Everything okay, traveler?" you ask sweetly while placing the cup of tea in front of him. "You're looking a little pale."

[p1hypen]

TERRIBLE TWOS — P. SUNGHOON

SYNOPSIS! A rash decision on your end causes you and Sunghoon to break up. What you think is for the best turns out to be the complete opposite, actually. Cue two years later when a random encounter with your ex forces you to revisit past feelings that has never quite fully departed from either of you. PAIRING! Chairman!Sunghoon x Fem!Reader WC! 11.4k (Got carried away)

GENRE/CW! Exes getting back together, fluff, slight angst if you squint, smut (fingering, brief mentions of fem oral receiving, sunghoon has a 7 inch cock; i headcanon that, unprotected sex, missionary, creampie, lots of tongue kissing), swearing, reader is in denial just a tad bit, ft. non-idol!yunjin, reader is a struggling fine arts major, etc. MDNI

A/N: originally, i intended for this to be a simple one shot but it somehow turned out to be greater than that in the end lol. this was also my first attempt at writing smut; i've always wanted to try it but damn is it kinda hard. i feel like the title doesn't match or capture the story as good but whatever-- it used to be called 'seasons,' yet that didn't make sense either so... terrible twos it is! i hope you enjoy <3

“Y/n?” 

A trace of uncertainty laces the man's voice, his mind racing with the possibility that he might have mistaken a stranger for someone from his past. Internally, he winces at the prospect of this awkward mix-up, dreading such an encounter with a random person. He clings to the hope that his intuition proves accurate.

Could it really be her? Amid the bustling crowd, she always managed to stand out, an unmistakable aura surrounding her. Her presence eclipsed even the most vibrant of settings, radiating a unique energy that outshone a field of flowers.

When he tentatively calls out her name in a hushed tone, she spins around on her heel, and for an ephemeral moment, Sunghoon feels as though he's stepped into a scene from a classic romance film.

Time stills and so does he. 

Each of your movements steals his breath away. The way your hair dances in harmony with the wind, and how your eyelashes cast the most delicate shadow upon your high cheekbones. Your gradual unveiling leaves him struggling to swallow past an inexplicable lump in his throat. 

Sunghoon notices the moment your eyes widen. Behind those enchanting orbs, he discerns a flicker of nostalgia and a touch of melancholy. During your time together, he had the uncanny ability to read those emotions hidden within the depths of your eyes.

“Sunghoon…” You say no louder than a mere whisper that could easily get lost in the summer’s wind that passes through the both of you. 

Your heart throbs in your chest. The biological response is far too overwhelming that you can feel your stomach tying itself in double knots. You think you might need to be pointed to the nearest bathroom so you can barf up the swarm of butterflies that disturb your system. No doubt, does crossing paths with an ex whom you share a long history with manage to do that to you. 

“H-how are you?” You’re the first to strike up a conversation despite that being Sunghoon’s unspoken responsibility. 

How am I? Sunghoon has to brace himself to collect his messy thoughts. 

“I’m pretty good, and yourself?”

His response is curt and short. In any other setting, he would have elaborated on his answer but he wasn’t sure how much information was too much to reveal to an ex regarding the state of his well-being. You nod at his words, not really expecting much nor having high hopes that he would give you more to work with in this conversation of playing catch-up between an ex. 

See, your relationship ended amicably, with both of you acknowledging that the spark kindled between you two had faded out. With your mind elsewhere, too focused on your academics (so you like to say), and Sunghoon preparing to inherit his family’s business, there was little room for romance in either of your daily routines. Your typical weekend dates were swapped out for meetings with major corporations and other soon-to-be-chairman-related activities so that he could fully understand what the rest of his future held for him. 

Even though you missed having your boyfriend's undivided attention, you refused to act as a temporary roadblock that prevented him from making significant progress. Despite your heart and brain being at war with each other, you made the conscious decision to slowly back down from being his lover and tucked your face in the pages of your academic textbooks.

With Sunghoon too busy to even acknowledge that his girlfriend was distancing herself from him, you were the first to come forward, bearing the news that breaking up would be the optimal solution to your and his fading presence in one another’s lives. 

That night when you bid goodbye, he felt half his heart shatter inside of him. Little did you know that you carried the other part wherever you went, but now that you were no longer capable of sheltering that missing piece, it almost made him want to die inside more than just a tad bit— a lot, actually.

He pretended to play it cool as your back turned to him and he watched you retreat to your car, feeling both helpless and defeated. With an unflinching countenance, a tightly clenched jaw, and fingers gripped at his sides, Sunghoon longed for his feet to have chased after you, preventing your departure from his life. He yearned to undo whatever had driven you away, to rewrite his mistakes and reshape your shared history.

Sadly, not even the first star in the sky he saw at night could grant him something as demanding as that.

On the contrary, had those things happened, he wouldn’t be here today on a Thursday afternoon rekindling a connection that got tossed up in the air and fell through his fingertips.

“I—“ Before you get a chance to deliver your sentence Sunghoon’s hold on your arm prompts him to draw you to his chest. 

Your breath hitches in the back of your throat, eyes simultaneously widening for the second time thanks to a certain ex. You look up at the taller one with crinkled brows. A mixture of confusion and a looming feeling in the deepest pit of your stomach that hasn’t quite left, tugging at your heartstrings. His intoxicating scent of Dior Sauvage is all too overwhelming for your nose to take in. You swear your head could start spinning any minute now. 

He’s so close to you. You’re so close to him. If someone were to come by and accidentally bump into you, you would be pressed up against his chest, breaking what limited distance is keeping you two apart. 

A bike rider disrupting pedestrian traffic on the sidewalk whizzes by, obnoxiously ringing the bell attached to their handlebar as if they aren’t to be blamed for riding on the concrete pavement, and it’s only then do you realize that Sunghoon was protecting you from getting hit. His body relaxes once he declares that it’s safe for you to comfortably stand in the open from any oncoming obstructions. 

“Sorry… acted on impulse.” His grasp on you immediately retreats to the inside of his pant pockets and you swear that his touch leaves a ghosting sensation on your skin. 

Sunghoon refuses to meet your lingering gaze, eyes averting to some random couple walking their dog across the street from where the two of you are standing. It’s almost funny how he fully believed two years ago that one day both of you would be exactly like that: dog owners who take their beloved fur baby on walks together and enjoy the simplicity of the little things that a relationship has to offer. 

“It’s okay, thank you,” You murmur, unsure of where things should go from here. 

A beat of silence comes and goes before Sunghoon has the chance to take the initiative to prove he’s different from his past self. 

The past self you witnessed throughout the duration of your shared romanticism. The past self who failed to convince you to stay because he never wanted you to leave his side. What he wanted was to work things out and to understand what he could do to change and make things better for the two of you.

Even if that meant you breaking up with him first to realize this.

“Listen, why don’t we…” He suddenly starts. Sunghoon analyzes your face and when your features evidently show that you’re all ears for what he has to say, he takes a deep breath to compose himself. “Get dinner. Together.“ 

Although the question comes out more like a demand rather than a request, you’re slightly taken aback because you were almost certain Sunghoon probably resents you for the breakup— at least that’s what you tell yourself— and that he doesn’t want any business involving you entering his life for a repeat performance. The only different thing is that you’re his ex.

Can you blame him? It was so sudden.

The concealed hurt he tried to mask but failed to do so when you told him you wanted to end things, hoping it’d be left on good terms, rambling about how much you do and will continue to care for him no matter what he does in life or who he chooses to love after you. It seems you did more talking than he got the chance to, and Sunghoon wasn’t sure if you had this all planned leading up to that moment, or if he should’ve seen it coming. 

Whatever it was, Sunghoon could never hate or repent you, but you’re no telepathic mind-reader and wouldn’t know how he feels about you now unless you asked. 

Your bottom lip is caught between your teeth as you ponder the idea of sitting in a fancy restaurant with Sunghoon and sharing a long conversation over an expensive meal that is highly overpriced for its ridiculously small portions. 

“On one condition,” You quip. Sunghoon gestures for you to keep going and you clear your throat. “No five-star Michelin places, okay? I just want a simple dinner to make up for lost time.” 

The older male chuckles, nodding his head sensibly. If there’s one thing Sunghoon learned about you is that you were never hard to please and preferred the opposite of a high-end luxury lifestyle that he naturally grew up with. 

“Tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at 8, how’s that sound?” 

“That’s perfect but um—“ you purse your lips. “Do you… Do you still remember where I live?” 

“Of course. It would take a lot more than time and distance apart from each other, for me to forget your every being.”

Sunghoon leans in to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The underlying intimacy hiding beneath his actions has you contemplating what the course of your relationship would have looked like for the two of you, had you not broken up with a man as sweet and thoughtful as him.

Was calling it quits between you two a mistake? Should you have stuck it out just a little longer? 

You can only shove those thoughts to the farthest point in the back of your mind and recenter your focus to the handsome ravenette. 

Sunghoon, sporting a warm grin that gradually grows into a pearly white showcase of his perfect teeth and adorable canines, makes it worth marveling if second chances are a thing that people still stand by. 

The next evening, Sunghoon unexpectedly arrived at your front door 20 minutes ahead of your readiness. While you were trying to situate yourself into your cami dress that paired well with the current season, a knocking sound coming from the entrance to your studio unit startled you in its wake. You tapped on the screen of your phone to check the time and crinkled your nose when the numbers staring back at you read 7:40. 

Sunghoon’s habit of arriving for an occasion earlier than expected was not unusual for his character. The taller's mannerisms crept into other facets of his social life after years of being trained to believe that "early is on time" and "on time is late." However, 20 minutes ahead of schedule was definitely new to you, and part of you can’t help but think if this is stemming from anxiety or if that’s just you projecting your nerves onto his much early arrival. 

“Just a sec!” You struggled to reach for the zipper to your dress, stress-sweating due to the pressure of having to rush through the rest of your routine.

After what felt like a millennia you finally managed to seal yourself shut into your attire and scurried to the front door where poor Sunghoon was waiting for you to answer.

“I’m so sorry, I couldn’t get to the zipper of my dress and I don’t think me flashing you or my neighbors in semi-public is socially acceptable.” You awkwardly laugh, strands of hair sticking to the back of your neck and forehead from the accumulated sweat you managed to produce. 

Sunghoon chuckles, shaking his head at your guilty tendency to overshare too much information for the dramatics.

“No worries. I know I showed up earlier than expected. Don’t worry about me, do what you need to do.” He smiles softly and for a second it almost slips your mind that you’re no longer romantically involved with each other. 

Oh, how you wish you could leap at him and smother the dashing man with kisses all over his Greek god-like, beautiful face…

“Here,” The taller unveils a bouquet of flowers that he attempted (underline, attempted) to hide behind his back. In reality, you could already see bits of it peeking out but chose to play coy about the item he was holding back from giving you. 

You fawn at the striking arrangement of tulips that come in different shades of the prettiest of pinks. Tulips. Of course, he would remember that those are your favorite. His words from yesterday ring in your ears, and believing them, you truly start to confide that Sunghoon could never boot you out of his memory as easy as a snap of his fingers.

“The prettiest bunch of flowers for the prettiest girl.” Sunghoon cautiously says, unsure if that would be stepping a line. To be fair, there isn’t an official handbook on what you should or shouldn’t say to an ex— except for some of the more common phrases; whatever that may be.

You let out a lighthearted laugh at the bold, yet cheesy, compliment and invited Sunghoon into the safe haven of your apartment, ignoring the way your heart practically skipped a beat when he said that. 

He’s been here on plentiful occasions so he’s really no stranger to the arrangement of your flat and could probably draw out an entire floor plan if he wanted to. At one point he almost committed to the thought of moving in with you, but you were a firm believer that it would be best if he stuck to the minimalist mansion he decorated himself; it was passed down to him from none other than his father. Needless to say, Sunghoon was a pouty puppy that day.

“I’m almost ready I promise.” You say. “I just need to add some finishing touches and then I’m all yours for the night.” Immediately your hands fly to your mouth when realization dawns on you about the delivery of your words. 

Sunghoon raises an eyebrow, and luckily, you miss the faint smirk that tugs at the corner of his plump lips teasingly.

“You know what I mean!” You panic, waving off the metaphorical atmosphere that surrounds both of you.

You excuse yourself and escape to your room as the tips of your ears start to flush with embarrassment.

Once the door leading to your bedroom shuts behind you with a mellow thud, your back presses up against the surface of the entryway. A loud sigh that you weren't even aware you were repressing since Sunghoon arrived breaks out past your tinted lips. With your mind a foggy mess and your heart threatening to leap right out of your chest, you’re under the impression that you resemble the stereotypical anime school girl the way your entire demeanor changes when you’re around him. 

But that’s the thing.

It’s only Sunghoon. 

It’s just Sunghoon.

So what if you guys dated in high school and partially during college? So what if he was the first and only guy you’ve been with, and even though you have no one to compare him to, he would still be the best ex you could ever have? So what if you regret breaking up with him because you got ahead of yourself and refused to be transparent with him? 

So what if you want him back…

You pat both sides of your cheeks to wake yourself from a philosophical dilemma. you refuse to go down a rabbit hole of emotions especially when you’re about to go out to dinner. 

You shuffle through your wardrobe in search of a certain pair of Converse that a special someone gave to you as a birthday gift. When you find it neatly stored away in its original packaging and the box that it came in you’re almost too eager to slip your feet into the collar of the Chuck Taylor’s.

You halt in your steps when you reach your vanity and grab your everyday bottle of perfume, spritzing one pump, then two, then three, and four more of the floral scent, that you’re showering yourself in it at this point.

When you've deemed that you’re completely ready and satisfied with your appearance for the evening, you exit the inviting comfort of your cozy chambers. Sunghoon’s back is facing you as you ascend into the living room. You can’t make out much of what he’s doing and he’s seemingly too preoccupied to notice your footsteps stalk across the wooden paneling. His neck is craned downward looking at something on the decorative table where you have a neat arrangement of framed pictures. 

“You still have this?” He turns around revealing the photograph that he was referring to, now in his possession. There’s a distant glimmer of emotion that you can’t quite make out peeking around the curves of his irises. 

You let out a resigned sigh. 

You’ve been caught red-handed for leaving a single trace of the past out in the open. 

Of all the furniture and miscellaneous objects that collect dust on different surfaces in your flat, Sunghoon chose to go for the photograph of you and him standing under a cherry blossom tree in Ilsan Park. Your arm was hooked around his waist and his was wrapped around your shoulder. The brightest of smiles stretched across your faces as petals danced around you. It was the perfect moment captured in stillness and you wish you could leap through pictures to relive that special day. A distant memory that feels like it happened not too long ago.

“I couldn’t get rid of it. It’s— That’s one of my favorite pictures of us.” You simply explain. 

It was true, because out of all of the selfies, candid photos, and other pictures you shared together with Sunghoon, your date to Ilsan Park remained your number one core memory as a couple. 

You watch intently as Sunghoon places the photo back where it originally belonged on the console.

“I think that’s one of my favorites, too.” He says as a matter of fact. “That or the one where we went to Lotte World and wore matching uniforms together.” The taller laughs.

You giggled, the recollection of your amusement park date flashing across your mind. You dragged him to go on each and every attraction with you as he stumbled in your tracks, struggling to keep up with your social battery. You felt like two high schoolers in love at the ripe age of 20 because being with Sunghoon gave you the impression that you were your 15-year-old self again. 

“I like that one as well! I thought I looked pretty cute in that uniform.” You grin sheepishly.

Sunghoon chuckles and it causes you to whip your head to survey him. His eyes crinkle before they’re no longer crescent and back to their original doe-eyed shape. 

“You’re still cute, y’know that?” 

The comment sends your heart ablaze along with the blood that rushes to the surface of your cheeks. You can only hope that the thin layer of makeup and blush you applied is strong enough to camouflage the effect that sunghoon has on you. It’s no secret that he was always a smooth talker and still is. It makes you wonder if he’s ever used that flirtatious skill on other women he’s come across after you— or if he has. 

You tut your tongue at him and reach for your crossbody purse draped on the couch that you lazily tossed aside yesterday after coming home. 

“Ready, m’lady?” Sunghoon twists the knob and pushes the front door open, supporting the weight with his broad frame to keep it from closing in on you two when you exit. 

“Wait!” You pip, halting in your steps. You briskly retreat to your room and grab the bouquet of tulips you left on the side table next to your bed. 

You scurry over to Sunghoon, cradling the arrangement of florals like it was your baby. The haired boy opens his mouth to say something but you’re too fast to retort, 

“I wanna show it off. They’re too pretty to be left at home.” 

He nods and motions his hand for you to leave the unit first. The taller gives himself a mental pat on the back for inquiring in a floral shop before coming to retrieve you for dinner.

Tulips are a girl’s best friend, after all. For you, at least.

Coincidentally dinner happens to occur at the one restaurant you frequently visited when you and Sunghoon were dating. It was a simple ma and pa spot only locals in the area knew of. They were popularly known for their cold noodles and ginseng chicken soup. You like to think of it as a secret only two of you know about and continue to gatekeep it from your friends or families from ever coming across of it. 

The owners grew familiar with both of you through your frequent visits and friendly conversations. your rapport with them resulted in a warm welcome every time you returned, often accompanied by a generous discount as a token of their appreciation. Since your last visit to their restaurant, a while has gone by, and you both have been overdue to make an appearance at the restaurant.

“Aigoo, Sunghoon-ah, it’s been so long!” Mrs. Kim exclaims, wearing the biggest and brightest smile that brings out the crinkles in her complexion when she notices two familiar faces. “And Y/n, it’s good to see you too!” She turns to you with the same mien still permanently plastered on her face. 

You bow your head. Her contagious smile has you mirroring her grin. 

“Come, come, sit.” She waves her hand for the two of you to follow in her trail as she leads both of you to your— undesignated but designated— table that you and Sunghoon would constantly sit at.

Before you even have a chance to pull out your chair, Sunghoon beats you to it with surprising swiftness. The aged wood scrapes gently against the floor as he courteously pulls the chair back for you. A warm smile tugs at your lips as you appreciate this chivalrous gesture, unable to contain a soft giggle of delight. 

Mrs. Kim watches the interaction between the two of you and smirks, completely out of the loop that you have broken up; still under the assumption that you’re both dating to this day. Who could blame her when in her eyes you were the perfect missing piece for one another in this world like you were made for each other from the start. 

“The usual?” She asks despite already knowing the answer to her question. 

“Yes please,” Sunghoon nods.

He sits after folding his blazer in half so that it can rest neatly on the chair's backrest. To add some fuel to the flame, he unbuttons the cuffs to his long sleeves and rolls them past his forearms so that they stop an inch below his elbows. The expensive watch that rests snugly on his wrist glistens, almost blinding you. You’re reminded that the man sitting across from you is responsible for an entire company under his name and capable of powerful things.

You gulp. You feel like you’re watching something you shouldn’t be and instead take an interest in the condiments that are pushed to the side of your table. 

Soy sauce, vinegar, napkins… 

When you think that you’re ready to re-center your attention onto Sunghoon once your racing heart has calmed down from its high, the taller has his eyes closed as he combs his fingers through his hair. His lips are parted ever so slightly and there’s a shine to his plush tiers.

He has to be doing this on purpose now.

You watch the way his Adam apple bobs when he swallows and you swear it should be a sin to look this effortlessly good in warm overhead lighting. 

You huff, a little too audibly for the male across from you to hear and his doe eyes flutter open. The sudden eye contact catches you off guard and you’re struggling to maintain yourself from the tension your mind is projecting. You shift around in your chair trying to find a more comfortable position.

This is going to be a long dinner.

After Mrs. Kim returned with your delectable dishes, the food vanished quickly as you guys delved into stories and shared the exciting highlights of your respective journeys. You and Sunghoon spent the rest of your meal at the table reminiscing about the past two years including the many ups and downs you’ve dealt with.

You learned that a month after your breakup, Sunghoon’s father officially stepped down, handing over the reins of the company to his son as the new successor. The ravenette confided in you, revealing that even though he had been groomed for this role his whole life, the transition wasn't as smooth as he had envisioned. The weight of responsibility felt overwhelming. Taking charge of a major company brought with it a level of pressure he had never experienced before. The expectations were high, both from the company's board and the employees who had known him since he was young.

As he grappled with the complexities of his new position, Sunghoon couldn't help but reminisce about a simpler life. He missed the carefree moments he used to share with you, the laughter, and the ease of his unannounced visits when he would turn up at your door with snacks he bought from the corner store and canned beer. 

Eventually his determination and drive to persevere kept him standing strong in the face of these obstacles. With his family behind him, a supportive workforce, and you in the back of his mind, he knew he had people to look back on and make them proud. 

You praised the older for his character development, gushing at his transition from uncertainty to confidence, while sympathizing with the initial troubles he first started off with. Being a chairman at his age is bound to weigh heavily on his mental and emotional health, and you can’t help but wish that you had stayed by his side through it all in order to be that support pillar he needed at immediacy.

“So, what about you? I didn’t really get to hear your answer yesterday.” Sunghoon asks.

You blinked. “Me? Well, uhm…” 

A bubble of insecurity creeps into your stomach. Your mind races through a mental checklist of your own achievements, or rather, the lack thereof, especially when compared to Sunghoon’s impressive journey. While your lives have taken very drastically different paths, you can’t shake the feeling that at the end of the day, the two of you are worlds apart from each other. He’s the chairman of a highly respected company. And you? You’re just a college graduate with a bachelor’s degree in fine arts. A pursuit that feels miles away from Sunghoon’s milestones. 

During the period that he was absent from your everyday life, all you managed to build was your art portfolio, which you eagerly sent to numerous galleries in a desperate bid to gain recognition as a struggling artist. Rejection letters became an all too familiar sight, each offering the same hollow praise— impressed but not interested. Those were dark times, where self-doubt loomed large.

Thankfully, your situation started to improve when you summoned the courage to step out of your comfort zone. You took to social media, opening art accounts on Instagram and Twitter, and sharing your artistic odyssey on TikTok. Yunjin, one of your closest friends and best friend since middle school, commissioned you to paint a mural inside a cafe she was working at. “I begged my boss for this to happen!” She said enthusiastically over the phone the night she asked you for the favor. Everything to you was a leap of faith, a glimmer of hope that prompted you to fully believe in the light at the end of every tunnel. 

In spite of your situation turning out for the better, it was impossible to ignore the inescapable sense of solitude and loneliness that clung to you like a shadow. It followed you everywhere you went. A mental reminder that, no matter how bright life was starting to seem, you still felt trapped and not completely content with yourself.

You convey these exact thoughts and feelings to Sunghoon in a messy ramble, hoping that this unintentional therapy session you’ve turned dinner into won’t scare him off. You can only hope that you’re not ruining the evening with a sob story of another art kid struggling to make a name for themselves in a society, where choosing art as a career path is at a greater disadvantage in comparison to your stronger counterparts. 

When you find yourself coming to the end of your rant, a wave of silence washes over the table, and you grab the nearest cup of water to gulp from. Ignoring the condensation that sweats around the glass and soils your palms. Your eyes look everywhere, purposefully avoiding Sunghoon and the tragic visage he’s probably giving you right about now.

“Y/n, look at me.” 

You raise your head, complying to his soft demand. 

“I’m proud of you,” he begins, and in that instant, a surge of emotion that has been suppressed for far too long wells up within you. “It takes a lot of courage and willpower to continue to follow a path you’re uncertain of.” The comment makes Sunghoon chuckle dryly, closely reminded of himself, shaking his head. “But look at you, you’re doing so great.”

The warmth in his voice, the sincerity in his eyes— they combine like a gentle storm, and suddenly, tears brim your eyes, begging to spill over. Your vision is splotchy and you refuse to blink, save for ruining your mascara. You weren’t planning on being an emotional wreck tonight, especially over dinner with your ex.

“I understand how hard it must have been dealing with those struggles alone, and I wish I was there by your side to help support you when it happened.” Sunghoon continues. He pauses to take in a breath before resuming, “But I’m here now… I’m not going anywhere, and if you’d let me— I want back into your life again, Y/n.”

A solitary tear breaks free, followed by another, and then another, until suddenly your eyes unleash a torrent of waterworks like a relentless downpour from a stormy sky. You hide your face in a handful of napkins you hastily grabbed, unaware that Sunghoon got up to move from his seat and slipped into the chair next to yours. His touch catches you off guard but you immediately relax as he guides you into his embrace, allowing you to hide yourself in his arms; your face tucked away in his chest. He caresses your hair, his slender fingers thread through your styled locks as he lulls you to comfort from your shaken state.

The two of you stay rooted in that position until you confidently and mentally reassure yourself that you are okay; you’re going to be okay. Your breathing has calmed down from its high and returned to a normal, healthy rate as your tears subsided and are non-existent.

No longer conscious of your makeup— a matter far from substantial to care for anymore— you wipe away the mess around your eyes. Black clumps of mascara and some concealer transfer onto the napkin. Seeing the stains garner a weak laugh to emit from you. Sunghoon cranes his neck to survey what you’ve become engrossed with. He sees the ruined makeup and laughs lightly into your hair. 

You’re thankful that there aren’t many customers dining in tonight and that it’s just you, Sunghoon, and three other parties who are far too busy drinking, conversing, and laughing amongst themselves to acknowledge the young couple tucked away in the corner.

Mrs. Kim leads both you and Sunghoon out of the restaurant with a warmth akin to a grandmother bidding her grandchildren farewell, her heartfelt wish for your safe return home evident in her loving smile.

“Goodbye, Mrs. Kim. Thank you, again, for another delicious dinner.” Sunghoon bows at a 90-degree angle and the formality stirs a boisterous laugh from the frail old lady. You mimic his actions, also expressing your gratitude for the lovely meal and free dessert she served to you guys ‘on the house.’ 

“When you guys come back I better see a wedding ring on her finger, Sunghoon-ah.” Mrs. Kim scolds lightly. You almost choke on your own saliva at the remark, coughing awkwardly to cover up your bewilderment. Sunghoon does his best to maintain his composure for the sake of the elder’s oblivion.

“You guys disappear for two years and still no diamond in sight. I was hoping some big change happened!” She clicks her tongue on the roof of her mouth, crossing her arms.

Sunghoon dips his head again in an apologetic manner. “You and Mr. Kim will be the first people we come to with a wedding invitation.” 

You whack the taller’s arm giving him a what-the-fuck-are-you-talking-about look, eyebrows scrunched with perplexity. The last thing you want is to continue to feed into Mrs. Kim’s false reality that the two of you are still a couple. Who’s to say that Sunghoon isn’t actually on the same page as you and everything is just a facade? I mean, sure, he’s been flirty here and there, bought you flowers, comforted you at dinner, and practically asked you to take him back… 

Your trust in Sunghoon has clearly waned, a result of your fluctuating self-confidence that leads you to confide in the pessimistic "what ifs." Your clouded judgment and self-doubt gnaw at your thoughts, casting doubt on the possibility of a reunion between the two of you. 

Sunghoon ignores the daggers slicing at the left side of his face and the buzzing pain you inflicted on him from the harsh impact of your hand. His digits dig gently into your side, drawing you closer to him. You stumble ever so slightly and flash an unconvincing awkward smile to the old lady.

You situate yourselves into the driver and passenger seats of his Hyundai Ioniq. You’re quiet when you pull the seat belt over your upper half, and for the first 10 minutes, not a single word was uttered from either you or the male sitting behind the wheel. Your mind loiters as you watch the building lights illuminating the dark troposphere of Seoul whizz by at 2x speed.

You and Mr. Kim will be the first people we come to with a wedding invitation.

Yeah right… You almost roll your eyes but catch yourself prolonging the idea of a hypothetical engagement and wedding ceremony with Sunghoon as your groom. 

Would he have gone down on one knee to propose to you had both of you remained lovers? 

You shake the contemplation loose from your prefrontal cortex. 

“Is it okay if I roll the window down?” You’re the first to break the ice. Sunghoon nods, his attention still focused on the road in front of him. Without looking, his fingers find the car’s air-con button to turn it off and he gives you the ‘go’ to proceed with your desire. 

The tempered glass descends and you’re immediately greeted with the beating rush of the summertime air. You giggle and rest your arms on the weatherstrip trimming of the Hyundai, your head poking out like an excited dog who’s riding in the car with its tongue hanging from its mouth. You close your eyes, taking in the wind that messes with your hair and brushes past your skin. It’s enough to transcend you into a different headspace, almost forgetting that you’re in a moving vehicle and not on some speedboat skidding across the water in Europe.

Sunghoon looks your way, unable to suppress the natural smile that lights up his face whenever he sees you. You truly are a surge of energy he needs when he wants to uplift himself if he’s feeling down. You’re his happy pill— so much so, that he wishes he could keep a chibi version of you for him to carry in the pocket square of his suits and let you rome on the wooden surface of his office desk to help him get through the work day. It’s silly and love-sickening, but Sunghoon only knows how to act a fool with you around him. 

His fingers drum against the padding of the steering wheel, waking you from your daydream. You hadn’t realized that you’ve already made it back to the city and are soon approaching your apartment complex. Your neighborhood is only a couple of turns away from your current destination as the two of you sit at a red light. You roll the window up, at least it was fun for the duration it endured. 

When he pulls up on the side of the street in front of your building, you try to find some lame excuse to stay with him for another minute longer, not wanting to say goodnight to him. You’re scared that this evening will be a one-off event and you'll return to your old ways, enveloped once more in the arms of self-isolation that consumes you completely.

Your grip on the door handle tightens. 

“Sunghoon,” you shift your view in his direction. “You don’t mind walking me to my front door, do you?” 

The male smiles with his eyes.

“Who am I to not accompany a lady when needed.” 

Sunghoon makes quick work to unbuckle himself from the driver’s seat and rounds the front of the car to open the door for you. He holds out his hand for you to take, which you generously do so, and grants him the unspoken permission to whisk you away into the levels of your residential building. 

The elevator ride is a close resemblance to the trip back to your place, however, there’s a contrasting atmosphere waiting to burst like a champagne bottle and spill over. Sunghoon’s holding your hand the entire way and you don’t resist the notion. 

When you approach your unit at the end of the hall, you fish for your keys that are sitting at the bottom of your bag. Sunghoon’s hand slips out of your grasp and you almost whine at the loss of his warmth and touch, but you know he’s only doing it for you to use both free hands to ultimately unlock your door. The click! of the lock coming from the other side is an indication that you can push past the door once the knob is turned.

You stand there, hesitant to enter your own home. 

“I guess— this is it?” You murmur tentatively to yourself and the taller. You rock on your heels purposefully stalling time as you force both him and yourself to stare a little longer at the iron numbers detailing your front door. 

You let out a rigged breath.

“Tonight was great. The longest I’ve been out of the house in a month, really.” You cringe pathetically at the confession knowing that a month ago Yunjin was the one who pulled you out of bed to get some fresh air and sunlight because you were hiding away like a vampire. "Thank you... Sunghoon, for treating me to dinner and spending the evening with me..."

He remains stoic and unusually quiet, making it challenging to decipher what he’s thinking or feeling. You wish you could enter his mind to get a glimpse of how his brain functions. You’d hate to seem pitiful for hoping that his advances from today were, if at all, genuine.

If what he said at dinner was coming from the heart.

As you contemplate what might be your last encounter with your 'the one who got away,’ Sunghoon astounds you with yet another trick up his sleeve, when he secures your wrist in his delicate grasp. Forever one step ahead of you, his lips collide with yours in a passionate fervent. The only appropriate reaction that you can give him in response is to return the kiss with just as much fervor. The strap to your purse slides off your shoulders and lands below you with a little thud thanks to Sunghoon’s antsy hands pushing it out of the way.

He cages you against the surface of the door, your back bumping into it when he forces the distance between your bodies to dissipate. Bothered by the tiny gap that prevents you from being as close as you possibly can to him. The only active barrier is now the layer of clothing he’s wearing and the tiny dress that nearly clings to your every curve. He can’t wait to impatiently rip you out of it and slip in a “I’ll buy you a new one, princess.”

Your hands find sanctuary in his soft hair. How you missed tugging at their roots when he’d go down on you in bed, on the kitchen counter, and in the shower with your one leg supporting your entire weight as Sunghoon made the other side dangle over his shoulder. Those positions are tempting, and biologically the flashbacks of your sexual activity with the male feed into the expansion of your slick that gradually soils your panties.  

You squeeze your thighs together. The pressure of your inner fat is an empty feeling of pleasure that you wish Sunghoon could replace with his tongue, fingers, cock, or all three one at a time. The male notices this cry-for-help and trails his right hand down the sides of your waist. He stops at the lace hemming of the cami dress, bunching the material to provide easy access to your mid-thigh. His fingers dance on your skin, traveling upward ever so slowly in an antagonizing fashion that almost infuriates you for his teasing manner in the heat of the moment. 

Sunghoon reluctantly breaks the kiss. The evidence of your already smudged matte lipstick has left a faint trace on his plump tiers. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, mouth ready to latch onto the sensitive area he knows best that will cloud every crevice of your mind with nothing but want and lust. At the end of this night, all that you will know is how to be his obedient cocksleeve like the good girl he’s conditioned you into.

The sound of someone clearing their throat on the opposite end of your apartment’s hallway is akin to a record player scratch. You’re grateful that the construction workers, or whoever built this place, designed the structure of your building to be a certain way so that the split-off point from the elevator wasn’t a simple corridor style where you could see both fire exits at each side. Instead, it was more so a wide V-shape. 

In other words, no one really caught you and Sunghoon in semi-public eating one another’s faces. 

You stop to share a quiet laugh with Sunghoon and ultimately enter the safe space of your flat, out of your neighbors point of view where they could have had a free, front-row seat to some juicy content. The door closes behind you, you can barely get out of your shoes and make it past the front step leading to your living room when Sunghoon’s haste to have you underneath the sheets with him in your bed has you stumbling backward. He catches you before you can register that you would have fallen onto your ass against the hardwood. His lips serve him well, contributing to the situation as a distraction that redirects your every inner thought bubble. 

Sunghoon casually kicks off his shoes, adding them to the haphazard pile alongside yours— the least of his concerns at the moment.

The kiss from outside repeats itself, and this time, Sunghoon can contently resume what he intended to do had another tenant not interrupted the mood. But the voyeurism exploration kink in him would have liked either sequence of events. 

His tongue traces a wet stripe up your neck, sending a shiver cascading down your spine. You dully bite down on your bottom lip, trying to stifle the whimper that is sanctioned at the back of your throat, trapped by a surge of lust and anticipation. Sunghoon’s mouth ghosts over the shell of your ear, and his hot breath tickles. 

“I wanna hear you, baby.” He slurs. “Don’t be shy on me now.” 

Sunghoon’s lips sheathe that sensitive spot on your neck, causing you to gasp. Your shoulders tense at the foreign feeling of his mouth on your body, and you’ve forgotten how good it was to receive a hickey. You relax under his touch when he gives the soft fat of your waist a reassuring squeeze.

His canines graze your skin while he sucks on the same patch, switching interchangeably to lap his tongue at the area when he begins to see a blossom of red and purple hues mix together, creating the prettiest bruise that would surely take more than a couple of days to fully heal. You groan when his teeth apply the right amount of force onto your flesh, leaving indents in their wake. His perverted mind relishes in the fact that only he is capable of marking you in ways that no other man could ever come close to.

He steps back to fully appreciate his canvas, that is you, and the absolute masterpiece that you are to him.

He leans in, pressing another kiss to your lips, this time with a gentler, more tender spirit, devoid of any sloppy motions. It’s delicate, a striking contrast to the heated lip-locking session the two of you were entranced with just moments ago on the other side of your apartment door. His larger palms cup your face as the pads of his thumbs caress the apples of your cheeks, making you feel loved and cared for.

Sunghoon lures your tongue into his mouth, clamping his lips around the muscle. He suckles at it, eliciting the cutest whimpers that he missed hearing from you since you’ve been gone. 

“Hnngh… Hah,” you pry yourself off of him, a string of your shared saliva connects the two of your equally moist lips. 

Your puffy lips shimmer in the moonlight streaming into your livingroom, as if the moon itself decided to play a starring role tonight. You squeeze his bicep, noticing that the muscle has doubled in size since you last touched it. You peer up at the taller through your eyelashes and Sunghoon has to conceal his primal instincts from fucking your throat with his raging hard-on. 

Your fingers graze the fabric of his long-sleeve collar, tracing delicate patterns across the black tie donned around his neck. Something about being able to witness a man up close in a suit never failed to provoke a flood of arousal from overwhelming your erogenous zone. Specifically, Sunghoon. It’s a shame— not really— that it eventually has to come off. With a deft touch, you begin to unravel the four-in-hand knot, a testament to Sunghoon’s meticulous self-preparation. The silk unravels, revealing its intricate texture beneath your fingertips. 

You assist Sunghoon in removing his suit jacket next, observing it gracefully descend to the floor. You briefly wonder why he's so nonchalant about leaving such an expensive garment on the ground, but he dismisses your concern with a wave of his hand. After all, as a chairman, he has the means and privilege to easily replace such clothing items.

You decide that it’s your turn to take the lead for once and initiate another heated session of sultry lip service. Your mouth kisses Sunghoon’s with primal hunger. Teeth clash, and you see no remorse for your hostility sponsored by pent-up sexual frustration and longing for some sort of relief that only Sunghoon can render. 

In a poor attempt to unbutton the last layer of clothing that shields Sunghoon’s upper half, your fingers fumble with the small disks that are fastened by the slits. You whine frustratedly against his lips once you realize you’re not making much progress. It is incredibly hard to multitask when your tongue is being manhandled by his.

“Here, lemme do it.“ Sunghoon mutters in a low growl. 

He tears open the placket just like he would to a bag of chips, and the buttons you were struggling to relieve him of pop off in ease, taunting you for your lack of efficiency at getting him out of his attire. He wriggles his arms free from the restraints of his sleeves and shrugs the apparel from the summit of his shoulders, allowing the ruined piece to join his suit jacket on the floor.

“Your turn, babe.” 

He twirls you around, your back fully pressed against his front as the tent in his pants pokes at your globes. The thrill of his length nestled between your ass spurs you to grind yourself on him, a staggered exhale of his hot breath fans the curvature of your trapezius, prickling your skin. The cotton material of your underwear cultivates a sticky sensation the longer you stay trapped in it.

“S-shit baby, you’re a fucking tease.” Sunghoon grabs your chin, forcing your head to turn his way so that he can seize your lips in an inconsistent kiss. Alternatively, it’s a tongue duel of him wanting to shove the muscular organ down your throat.

“A-ahh,” You moan helplessly.

He yanks the zipper of your dress. The item peels off of your bust, exposing your bare skin and naked torso simultaneously. You have to wriggle your hips past the remaining fabric in order to fully reveal your bare figure to Sunghoon— besides your damp panties that is.

“No bra today? It’s almost like you were expecting this to happen…” Sunghoon taunts.

“N-no…” You squeak, shaking your head.

“No? Use your words baby.”

You turn to face him, your perky mounds that come into his view are a sight for sore eyes. Even in the dark and scant amount of natural lighting from the celestial object in the night sky, is Sunghoon competent at reading your flustered features. How you manage to be cute yet look so lewd all at once is beyond his comprehension.

“I-I didn’t wear a bra because I thought it’d be easier to go without one.” You mumble, telling the truth.

“That’s better,” Sunghoon coos. He pecks your cheek and you smile at the reward.

“Eeek! S-Sunghoon!” You burst into a fit of shared laughter and giggles when said name scoops you into his arms, your body cradled against his chest, as your legs dangled over his one arm while the other supports your back.

“Just practicing when we’re both walking down the aisle at our future wedding.” Sunghoon jests.

Tenderness fills your eyes when you look up at him. He’s joked about the hypothetical conception of marriage twice in the night that you’re fully convinced it wouldn’t be all that bad of an idea. Given that both of you are ready and first rekindle the status of your relationship, of course.

Sunghoon grins. There’s a gentle kindness to his pearly whites, and you reach up to press a chaste kiss to his jawline.

He relocates to your bedroom. Gently, he lays you down on the bed, your body propped up on your forearms, bearing the weight of your upper half. With an unwavering gaze, you study Sunghoon closely, every detail of his expression and every nuance of his presence.

His eyebrows knit and meet in the middle, fixated on undoing his pants to escape from their restraints, followed by his underwear soon after. His stiff member rebounds off his lower abdomen, precum leaking from the mushroom tip. A satisfied exhale leaves his mouth. He stalks over to you with a sly smirk, towering your smaller frame when he crawls on top of the bed, his knees plant themselves into the mattress and his additional weight dips the space where you lay.

You whine when his length ghosts at the expanse of your inner thigh, suspense and arousal continue to bubble inside of you. Sunghoon murmurs for you to lay back. “Make yourself comfortable,” were his initial instructions before hooking the waistband of your panties with his fingers and dragging them below your legs. The undergarment was tossed to the side.

You nibble at your bottom lip and screw your eyes shut when a slender finger circles the perimeter of your labia.

“You’re so wet babe,” Sunghoon purrs.

Your breath hitches at the back of your throat when he slides his index finger through your inner lips, gathering an abundance of your slick to bring to his mouth for a taste. Both eyes flutter open in time to witness Sunghoon suck at the digit drenched with your arousal. The sight is sinfully lewd, nearly too much for you to handle. Your face reddens and you fight the inclination to hide behind your hands.

“You taste so good, too.“ He licks at his lips. “Wanna try?” Sunghoon cocks his head to the side, and you can’t find it in you to turn down his offer when he looks so innocent— yet acts like the devil himself when he’s overcome with lust. You nod your head with approval.

His duality needs to be studied at Harvard, you think in the back of your mind.

Sunghoon plunges his index finger past your hole, triggering your back to arch an inch off the bed. He chuckles lowly and watches as your hands grab desperately at the sheets beneath you to steady your sanity. The singular digit curls inside of you. Your unforeseen shock is vocalized in the form of a moan and Sunghoon repeats the motion several times.

“O-oh my god—“ You gasp.

The ravenette withdraws his finger and taps at your mouth, signaling you to open. You submit to his implicit dictation. Your lips encase his pointer, tongue swirling around it like a piece of sweet candy you’re tasting for the first time.

You bat your eyelashes prettily and moan. “Mmmh…”

“Dirty girl,” Sunghoon sniggers. He retracts his finger and you let it slip past your mouth with a ‘pop’ sound.

“Can you please give me your cock now?” You plead with a pout, doing your best impression of an endearing set of puppy eyes.

Sunghoon chuckles. “Let me at least prep you first, baby. How long has it been since you’ve had someone’s cock inside of you, anyways?”

You part your lips but close it just as quickly. To be candid, you've never been one to actively immerse yourself in the 'I'm single' scene. Your only foray into it was with Yunjin, roughly three weeks after your split with Sunghoon. The two of you ventured to a club, but it proved to be a brief endeavor. Within two hours, the fifth shot became a catalyst, turning you into an unending fountain of tears.

“Y/n?”

“Huh? Oh. Sorry…”

“I’m sorry baby. Did I overstep your boundaries?” Sunghoon cups your face with his right hand, his eyes scan yours, sincerity and concern laced in those chocolate orbs of his.

You stifle a giggle. Of all boundaries he could have crossed he draws the line at asking for your body count and not him fingering you.

“What? What’s so funny?” He asks.

“Nothing just… I think it’s ironic you ask me that now and not before we did all of this.” You motion to your bare bodies when you say ‘this.’

Sunghoon’s ears redden.

“But don’t worry, Hoonie.” You hook your arms around his neck and pull him closer to pepper his face with several reassuring kisses. “I don’t mind it all. Now can you please fuck my brains out!”

Your ex (whatever he is to you at this point) throws his head back to share a quick laugh, shortly pressing his forehead against yours.

Without warning, he buries three fingers in your pussy; your hips twitch at the sentience. They slide in and out without strain and together the two of you watch as he finger fucks your hole to “prep” for his cock. The squelching noise of your juices fill the room in addition to your moaning, and Sunghoon confronts a hurdle of his patience wearing thin, wanting to fuck you senseless.

His digits leave your hole and you whine immediately at the loss. Sunghoon uses the mass quantity of slick as a substitute for lube to lather on his angry cock. He shuffles against the bed, forcing your legs even further apart to fit himself in between them. The stretch burns your muscles but is soon forgotten when the tip of his length is rubbing your folds, occasionally bumping your swollen clit which generates a needy whine.

Sunghoon’s face screws with ecstasy when his shaft inches past your entrance. Your walls hug his length and he whimpers at the tight muscles that suffocate his erection. You squirm under him, tensed and breathing heavily. It’s hard to relax when seven inches feel like it’s splitting you in half after a long hiatus from sex. Sunghoon notices your discomfort and stills his hips from pushing further, allowing you the necessary time to adjust.

“Sorry baby, I know it’s been a while. You can take it, right? Like the good girl you are?”

You nod. He kisses your forehead, cheek, and lips to soothe your anxiety, using his lips as a distraction to keep your mind from zoning in on his cock. He seizes the opportunity to fit the rest of his length inch-by-inch, and you feel like a virgin all over again when the burn of his cock stretching you open is almost too unbearable.

“Sshh, it’ll be alright, baby.” He wipes away a loose tear. “I’m gonna move, tell me when and if it’s too much, okay?”

“O-okay, Hoonie…”

Steadily, Sunghoon recedes his hips, cock following in suit, just enough for the tip to be the only thing that your pussy clenches on. He snaps forward, your boobs jiggle at the motion and your eyes are rolling to the back of your head when he repeatedly thrusts at a steadfast pace. The pain you were once scared of is no longer a fear you have to worry about, as pleasure is the only thing you know how to feel.

“F-faster, harder, p-please Hoon.” You fight through broken moans to let your voice be heard.

“Shit—“ He curses.

Sunghoon’s fingers dig into the plush fat of your waist while his other hand presses into the space of your bed next to the side of your head. His eyebrows knit, focused entirely on increasing the speed of his thrusts. He continues to piston fuck your pussy, abusing your hole in the utmost gratifying procedure. Your thighs jiggle each time that his balls slap against your skin. Everything reminds him of an amateur homemade video he’s seen from other couples perform on Pornhub. He’ll have to ask you some other day if you’d ever be open to filming your own tapes to watch back.

“Mmh, right there, Hoonie.” You sigh dreamily, locking your legs around his waist and linking your ankles together. “You’re fucking me so good— Aah!” A high pitch squeal slips from your vocal box when his tip probes at your G-spot.

“F-fuck,” Sunghoon leans in close, relying only on one forearm to hold himself up from crushing you with his entire weight. He hides his face in your boobs, tongue flicking at the sensitive bud that hardens in response. He persistently thrusts deeper, his cockhead pressing against your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Hnngh… Y-yes, yesyesyes!” You chant. Your fingers tangle themselves in his hair, scratching gently at his scalp and tugging whenever his mouth would suck or massage at your breasts. “You’re gonna— make me c-cum!“

Sunghoon’s unrelenting despite your warning. He can feel your walls clamping around his shaft, signaling your impending orgasm, and it taunts him to force himself deeper within your warm cavern at every jerk of his hips. Your hands fall to his biceps. Nails digging into his skin as your face distorts into extreme pleasure.

“I’m so close too, baby.” He groans. “Just.” Thrust. “A.” Thrust. “Couple.” Thrust. “M-more!”

“I’m cumming! I’m c-cumming—“ Your hips tremble with a frenzied urgency as your pussy pulsates around Sunghoon’s cock. Your mouth opens in a silent gasp and a long, impassioned moan escapes your lips. The sheer intensity of the moment leaving you incoherent and lost in ecstasy.

Sunghoon twitches inside of you. “Hah— you’re so— fuck!— s-sexy,” He grunts. Your head thrashes at the overstimulation of his length continuously pumping into you and you push at Sunghoon’s chest weakly, crying on his cock for him to slow down. You whine, whimper, plead for mercy so that your pussy can recover from the intense orgasm you just experienced not too long ago. In spite of that, he ignores your pleas and concentrates on finishing. It isn’t until white ropes of cum are shooting at your walls when his thrusts start to get sloppier and progressively come to a stop.

“Fuck.” Sunghoon exhales through gritted teeth. Both of you are a panting mess trying to catch your breaths as your chests rise and fall synchronously. The ravenette pulls out slowly and he groans when he sees his seed spill out of your hole, it closely reminds him of those hentai comics he’s read through illegal websites.

“I’ll get something to help clean you up.” Sunghoon lifts his weight from the bed but you reach for his forearm to grab him. You don’t have to say anything for him to understand that you don’t want him to leave your side. He brings a hand to yours, the pad of his thumb grazing the hills of your knuckles soothingly. “It’ll be fast, I promise.”

Not even 30 seconds has gone by when he re-enters your room with a damp cloth. He wipes at the areas where a mix of your cum and his seed litter your skin with sticky residue. He discards of the ruined cloth before joining you in bed where you welcome him with open arms. He plops down next to you and you turn to lay on your side so that you can get a proper view of his handsome face in post-sex afterglow. You reach out to gently touch his moles that adorn his features. The moles you missed seeing as the first thing in the morning when you’d wake up with him by your side. He grins lazily and cranes his neck to bring his lips to your forehead.

“Sunghoon…?” Your faces are merely inches apart from one another. Though the close proximity is not a foreign situation— especially after just having sex— you speak to him with a hushed tone.

“Yes?” He inquires.

“At the restaurant, you implied that you wanted to get back together again… Is it true? Do you really mean it?” Your lips are quivering and you mentally berate yourself for being so soft hearted in these types of scenarios where emotions are high, vulnerable, and transparency is called upon.

Sunghoon breathes shakily. “I really mean it. I miss you, Y/n.” He tucks away loose strands of hair that fall on your face. “These past two years without you have been hell. The first couple of months were so bad, I almost reconsidered being the chairman for father’s company so I could fight for us. Fight for you. I’m sorry if that part of my life got in our way as a couple, and I wish I had made more of an effort to be around you.”

You sniffle, “It wasn’t just your fault. I should’ve communicated instead of thinking I know better and that I thought what I did was for the greater good— because it wasn’t. And you’re right, the two years I spent without you were awful. I never wanna go through that again.”

Sunghoon loops an arm around your waist and guides your head to bury against his chest.

“We don’t have to.”

Morning rays gently infiltrate the room as Sunghoon stands before the full-length mirror in your shared master bedroom. His voice carries across the space as he greets his loving wife, 'Good morning, Mrs. Park,' while he meticulously adjusts his tie.

You stir in bed. The unwelcome intrusion of sunlight forces you awake despite the supposedly blackout curtains you requested when you first moved in with Sunghoon. You sigh in irritation. Dismissing the hope of another ten minutes of sleep, you push yourself upright, your arms stretching above your head, accompanied by a vibrant yawn. Sunghoon, amused by your morning ritual, chuckles softly.

“Still sleepy?” Your husband turns to face you after successfully finishing the Windsor knot of his tie. You blink away the fog of grogginess from your eyes and grin when you get a clear vision of your husband clad in his usual work uniform.

“Mmm… you’re so handsome.”

Sunghoon's face lights up with a genuine smile, touched by your kind words that always seem to set the perfect tone for his day. He approaches your side of the bed with a confident saunter and takes a seat beside you.

“Any plans for today, my lovely wife?”

You can't help but giggle at his endearing habit of calling you 'wife' and 'Mrs. Park.' It's become a sweet tradition between the two of you, a reminder of your loving bond that has grown since your wedding day. You twist your hand to observe the silver band that ornaments your ring finger. The diamond twinkles back at you in the bask of the light.

“I think Yunjin and I are getting brunch, then we’re going shopping right after, and later in the evening we’re gonna drink some wine and paint as we gossip about our husbands.”

Sunghoon laughs. “You’ve got a busy day ahead of yourself then.” He nudges your side playfully and you giggle. “Don’t forget to fit me into your schedule. Let’s go out for dinner tonight.”

“Cold noodles and ginseng chicken soup?”

“Where it all started.”

You envelop yourself in your husband's embrace, showering him with affectionate kisses. Starting from his moles and moving to both cheeks, his nose, forehead, and, ultimately, his irresistible lips, you express your love and absolute adoration for him with each tender peck.

“I love you, Mr. Park.” You murmur against his plush tiers.

His fingers delicately sweep aside the loose strands of hair obscuring your face, as he lovingly takes in every captivating feature, examining them with deep worship.

“I love you more, Mrs. Park.”

Two years ago you and Sunghoon sealed the knot in California. The ceremony took place at the Alila Ventana wedding venue, perched on a cliff along the rugged coast line of Big Sur. It offered a dramatic landscape, nestled amidst towering redwood trees, and a breathtaking view of the Pacific Ocean; the perfect picturesque backdrop for photos and videography. The outdoor spaces, gourmet dining, and coastal elegance were truly significant factors of your reception.

Sunghoon kept his promise to Mrs. Kim when the time came to send out the wedding invitations. Her excitement was beyond words as both of you entered the restaurant, radiating a newfound delight. Her gaze immediately fixated on the sparkling diamond ring on your finger— the same one she had scolded him for, which was now complete.

Come time to exchange your vows, Sunghoon's heartfelt declaration to cherish and devote himself to your love made it extremely difficult to keep your makeup in tact. Yunjin, your appointed maid of honor, had to step in to hand you tissues one after the other. The audience laughing to themselves at your showcase of emotions.

True to his words, Sunghoon carried you bridal style as he stalked down the aisle. Your families and friends cheering from their seats, their joyous applause resonating through the air. The warmth of their smiles and the happy tears in their eyes mirrored the love that enveloped you both in that moment.

Since then, life with Sunghoon after marriage was anything but dull.

[luimagines]

Reader confronts the boys about the events of loopy from a poisoned plant.

But everything turns out okay because reader likes them too :)

- glitter ✨

The aftermath of loopey plant? Got it!!

Masterlist

You can read the first part right here!

Content under the cut!

Four

Long day finally over with, you get ready to end it as you crawl into your bed roll.

Four was busy sleeping off the rest of the poisoned pollen and whatever antidote Legend had all but shoved down his throat. You're not sure you're willing to deal with the aftermath but the morning cannot come fast enough.

You lied. The morning came too fast.

You wake up quickly and try to figure out what to do next. You turn in your bed roll and see that Four is already awake.

He sees you before you can pretend to still be sleeping and you curse your luck. Internally, of course. Outwardly, you smile at him and sit up, trying your best to stay causal despite everything he said into your ear the day before.

"Good morning." You grin.

Four winces. "Too loud."

You flinch in return and lower your voice. "Whoops. Sorry."

"It's ok."

"How're you feeling?" You whisper and move to sit next to him. You're suddenly not all that tired. You wait on baited breath to hear his answer and if he's retained any memories from yesterday at all.

Four bite his lip and knocks on his own head gently. His own voice is quiet. "I have a headache but that's about the worst of it. I wasn't too bad yesterday, was I?"

You smile. "You slept most of it off. It wasn't so bad."

He sigh and nods in relief. "Good. I was worried I might have made you uncomfortable."

"Why would you have made me uncomfortable?" You lean forward, trying to keep your smile innocent and less shark like.

Four blushes and looks away. "I have the vague suspicion that I was speaking out loud for a good part of that but I can't seem to tell if I actually did or not."

"Oh." You tilt your head. "That's not so bad. I don't think you were."

"Really?" Four looks back at you, relief flooding his gaze. "Thank goodness."

Your grin turns sharp anyway. "So when do I meet your dad and grandpa?"

Four stills and curls his lips into his mouth. "...Come again?"

"You wanted a summer wedding, right?" You tilt your head. "I was thinking about it and I think you've got the right idea, but I've always my wedding to be outside and the summer might get too hot. So an early summer or late spring wedding might work best if we got that route."

"Oh my god." Four covers his mouth as horror begins to step in.

You giggle and kiss his cheek. "Think about it, yeah? Let me know what you think. I'm not opposed."

".....thanks..."

Wind

Warrior carried Wind back to camp in record time.

Wild returned with Legend, Hyrule and Four and sicked them all onto the groaning and pained boy in front of you.

You tried to stay closer but word spread fast and soon everyone had a hand in helping Wind get back on his feet. Even if that included distracting you in the process.

The day ended before you knew it and everyone was settling in for the night since Wind was now stable and more coherent than he was hour before.

You crept close to the boy and laid nearby, just in case Wind tried calling out to you again. Feeling a little brave, you grabbed onto his hand and let your eyes close shut.

Wind tightened his grip on your hand, calling you name weakly into the air. Your eyes were open in an instant.

"I'm here, Wind." You answer him, crawling a little closer to the boy. you sit up, hoping that the angle would allow him to see you. "I'm here. I never left."

He groans and turns in your direction. "Really? I thought you wouldn't come."

"No." You don't let your voice waver. "I was always there. You just didn't see me."

Wind doesn't seem too convinced but he's also exhausted, no doubt from the treatment everyone had painstakingly shoved down his throat. "I'm tired."

"I know." You smile softly. "It's late. You should sleep."

"What happened?" He asks you instead. "I don't remember what happened after the plant. It was pretty."

"Pretty poisonous." You grit. "Don't go near that thing again. It hurt you really bad."

"Ok." He doesn't fight you on this. "Is that why everything hurts right now?"

"Kinda, yeah." You tell him, because it would be mean to lie. "And everyone freaked out when you were poisoned, so the guys might have been a bit rougher on you than they should have been. I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive them."

"They owe me."

You laugh. "Sure, buddy. Sure they do."

"Stay?"

"Of course. I'll be right here when you wake up."

Hyrule

You managed to get Hyrule to the group camp with less damage than you thought would be needed.

Hyrule wasn't helpful in the slightest, but you're thankful to the shadow that has been helping you thus far.

He comes to his senses a few hours later, after you've filled the others in the situation. The Traveler groans loudly and rolls over. "My stomach hurts."

You don't have it in you to feel sorry for him. "Probably because you literally ate the dirt." You shake your head. "Let me get you something to drink; maybe that'll help."

"Thank you." He looks your way but doesn't move from his spot on his bed roll.

You get him some water and mix in some white power Twilight said would help him with any stomach problems. He had a bit of humor to his voice but you're willing to bet that was just because he was holding back laughing at your rendition of the earlier events.

You were a bit dramatic about it but Hyrule doesn't need to know that.

You come back and give it to him with little fanfare and sit nearby. "Here."

"Thanks." He starts to sip it closely. "Why does my everything hurt?"

You smile a little, amused that your little turn of phrases were making their way through the group. "You were literally dragged all the way back here. Not dignifying, but I didn't have many options."

He hums and continues to slowly drink the water. "....That would explain why it feels like I fell down a mountain."

You see the shadow tease Hyrule's hair in the distance. It's subtle but Hyrule visibly relaxes. "What damage did I cause?"

"None." You shake your head again and move to sit closer to him. You can at least pretend that the shadow is you, just so no one asks questions. "Unless you count damage to my psyche from the strange things that came out of your mouth."

"Oh god, don't tell me I confessed." He whines and drowns the last of the glass to avoid eye contact.

".....what?"

"I said it, didn't I? I told you I loved you. Crap. I'm sorry-"

"No." You stop him before he can continue with that train of thought. "...But you did now."

Hyrule freezes.

You're also left staring at him.

The shadow acts quickly and pulls your head down so that your lips touch Hyrule's head. You pull back quickly with a bright blush.

"We'll talk later." You steal the glass away and scurry as fast as you can to busy yourself with something unimportant.

Hyrule will be fine. Right? Right.

Time

You were absolutely correct.

Twilight and Sky had found you and had tease you relentlessly once they managed to pry you away from Time. The Old Man didn't seem to want to let you go.

It would have been a little more humorous if he hadn't looked on the verge of tears at the thought of you leaving him.

You stayed with him, because anything else would have sent the poor man into a panic.

It took a total of two days for the effects of the pollen to calm down and for Time to be restored to his quote unquote, former glory.

Luckily for him, he didn't seem to remember most of it. Only that he kept looking at you in a way that had your chest clenching and your breathing coming out in short bursts of pure emotion.

It was maddening. ...And the boys weren't helping you in the slightest.

You had to clear the air at the first chance you got. You didn't want to continue this strange dance you've found yourself in with the Old Man.

You pulled him aside and were ready to interrogate him when your words died on your tongue. There he went again, looking at you with the most tender and adoring look you had ever seen on a man, let alone him. "...Link. What is it?"

You can't bring yourself to be accusatory. Something about the flower changed him. He's never been this vulnerable on this journey. What had he gone through?

Time raises a hand and runs the back of it on your cheek. "...I thought I lost you."

"Never." You grab his hand, holding it close. "You could never lose me."

"I found myself powerless." He takes in a shaky breath. "Tell me. What changed between us? What did I do?"

"N-nothing." You gulp, feeling your legs go a little weak at the sheer power he carries in his voice. "You called me a flower... and then wouldn't let me go. It was innocent."

Time doesn't seem convinced. But he doesn't have enough in his memory banks to dispute this. "Very well."

"Link?" You hold his hand a little tighter. "....It was the most romantic things anyone has ever said to me. I... should thank you."

"I hardly doubt something said in the midst of confusion and loss of cognitive function would be considered romantic." Time glares at the ground. "I could do much better now that I'm sober."

Your breath hitches in your throat and you decide to get a little brave and reckless. You lean closer and nearly poke your nose with his. "Prove it."

Something ignites in him. A wicked grin blooms on his face. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." You whisper. "Because I would have said the same thing about you."

Wild

You ended up needing to change your shirt.

Wild was apologizing profusely and on the verge of tears afterwards.

Legend was kind enough to help you with the mess and steal one of the Captain's shirts for you to wear while Four and Sky helped Wild get himself situated and settled.

You sighed and fixed the way the clothes clung to you. It highlighted just how skinny Warrior was but you didn't want to think about that when you were more worried about Wild and his current state.

You rushed back quickly. Wild was sniffling and whining like a kicked puppy while Hyrule brushed his hand through the Champion's hair, trying to calm the other boy down.

"How is he?" You whispered as you got closer.

Hyrule looked up at you and cringed. "I'm sure you can guess. He might have ingested some of whatever it was that made him this way. He says his stomach hurts a lot despite not eating anything. I'm inclined to believe him."

You sighed and copied the movements the resident healer performed on your friend. You lean in and kiss Wild's forehead. "I'm sorry, buddy. You'll feel better soon."

Wild looked up at you and swallowed harshly. "Promise?"

"I promise." You smile tensely. You look to Hyrule for confirmation and he looks just as lost as you feel. You repeat yourself anyway. "I promise, Link."

He groans against and curls up tighter. "I'm sorry...'bout your shirt."

"Soap and water exist." You wince, trying to keep your voice light. It was your favorite shirt, but you don't want Wild to feel worse. "Legend is taking care of it."

"Oh... ok."

"You've been very nice and good to me." You whisper. "I don't think I have the capacity to be mad at you. Much less for this. I like you too much, Wild."

"I like you too." He tries to look up at you. "...I didn't like that plant."

"I don't like it either." You agree, if only to make conversation. "Let's not get close to it again, yeah?"

Wild nods and closes his eyes, reveling in the way your hands feel in his hair. "I'm never cutting my hair."

You giggle slightly. "Good. I'd miss it."

He smiles.

Twilight

It had taken many hands to get Twilight to behave enough for him to be treated.

You didn't think he would be as possessive as he was. He growled in ways you didn't think was possible and nearly tried to bite Time.

It was... fascinating, if a little scary.

You watched him and tried to calm him down with the others. Eventually he fell asleep.

Only to wake up less than hour later.

You wanted to yell and scream. He had just calmed down. What mess do you have to deal with now?

"Ow my head..." He sits up in his bed roll and hold his head in his hands. You step closer to him and poke his shoulder. "How're you feeling Rancher?"

"Like I got kicked in the head." He mutters under his breath. "What happened?"

"You got poisoned." You smile softly, gathering that it was more or less safe to be next to him now. "And then hugged me. And smelled my hair. And I think you kissed it."

Twilight had gone completely still in the time that you had begun talking. You noticed but decided to keep going if only to save yourself from blushing at the reminder of his not-quite-kiss.

"You also tried to punch Warrior in the face, bite Time and wrestle Wild." You shrug. "Sounds normal if you ask me."

"I won't." He rubs his forehead. "...Did I do anything else? ....To you?" He adds hesitantly.

You feel just as hesitate but honestly? He wasn't all that bad, if a little too honest. You shake your head. ""No. You were well behaved."

"Thank Ordana."

"I like you too by the way." You blurt and lean closer. "And you don't have to be scared to talk to me, ok? I like talking to you too, Link."

You kiss his cheek, if only because it's fair- implies your traitorous brain. You don't see Twilight short circuit, but you do see Warrior and four give Twilight some thumbs up from their corner of the camp.

"Get better soon, ok Darlin'?" You copy his subtle drawl and watch in gremlin delight at the way he completely flushes red.

"YeAh." He clears his throat, unable to meet your eyes. "I will. I will."

"Good."

Warrior

The loud curse that slips past your lips was enough to get the group to look over to where you were.

Legend and Twilight naturally started laughing at the sight of Warrior face first in the dirt before you called out for help. Wild and Sky responded quickly, helping drag the unconscious young man to the middle of the camp where it was safe.

You instantly started explaining what you say and how he reacted, giving your own ideas about what might have happened without actually being there to witness it.

Time and Four got to making a spot to put his body where he would be comfortable until he slept it off.

You hovered around like an anxious hummingbird. You had all this energy and no where to spend it. Feeling your plight, Hyrule and Wind took it upon themselves to keep you occupied before you started to mother hen the Captain while he was unconscious and unable to defend himself against it.

Thankfully, it didn't take that long for Warrior to wake up- complaining quite loudly that he'd swear off drinking for the rest of his life.

You had the sudden suspicion that it wasn't the first time he had woken up such a manner- even though you knew that there was nothing alcoholic in the vicinity. Still, you decided to commend him for the attempt. "Good. We'd hate to deal with you hung over as it is."

He groaned and rolled over in his bed roll.

No one bothered to correct him in his incorrect assumption that he had been drinking with the boys.

Time had snorted at the claim and at his reaction but there was a subtle wince to his face that you couldn't help catching. Was Time familiar with the feeling as well?

You shake your head and make your way next to Warrior. "Hey."

"Hi." He grumbled, clearly not happy with his current predicament.

"What do you remember?"

Warrior tenses up before he can stop himself. He clearly remembers something but he doesn't to tell you, less you confirm it for him.

You smirk. "Do you remember the kiss?"

He shoots up. "What?!"

Given that you're not entirely sure what going through his head, you're willing to make a bet and let his own mind fill in the blanks for you. Besides, fireside cuddles sounds nice- but if he had something else in mind you don't think you're inclined to turn down that offer either.

You giggle and kiss his nose to tease him further. "There wasn't none but you mentioned it. If you ever want to follow through with what you told, just let me know."

Warrior looked horrified.

"Let me know." You repeat yourself to get through to him. "Ok?"

His voice is small and disbelieving but he nods slowly. "...ok."

Legend

It took a while for Legend to cooperate enough for you to bring him back to camp and get him checked up on. He wouldn't stop going on and on about how you were one of nicest people he's ever met and that he never wanted to leave you and the thought of leaving you made him sad-

Honestly, you had to tune him out for the most part. If you continued to listen to him talking and rambling you would have probably started crying. You never would have guessed that Legend was incredibly sentimental underneath it all.

You had to leave him to the care of the other boys while you went to collect yourself off beyond the forest line.

With time, when you no longer felt all mushy and soft for the boy had to grow up way too fast just to survive, you made your way back to the camp where Legend was looking properly hung over.

He groaned and maybe vomited a little given the looks Wild and Four were giving him as Time cleaned his face. You're a little ashamed that you more or less ran away from him but you doubt he would have wanted you to see him like that anyway. Right?

Eventually, you gather up the courage to get close to Legend and sit next to him where he would actually notice you. He sees you and rubs his face. "I was told you brought me back."

"Yeah." You admit quietly. "I found you first."

"I already told everyone to stay away from that stupid flower."

You pale slightly. In your attempt to rid yourself of the embarrassment, you had completely forgotten about the plant that got Legend into this mess to begin with. "Oh. Good."

Legend nods and rubs his head a bit. Warrior steps in to give the Vet a glass of water. He drinks is greedily.

"Do you still want to braid my hair?"

Legend chokes.

You bite your lip. "I wouldn't mind it."

He looks at you with a scarlet face and with wide, almost scared eyes. "Oh my god, what did I tell you?"

"I lot of things," that you don't think you have the strength to go into right now. "But it's really not that bad."

Legend smiles, but it's not like he believes you.

You'll just have to prove it to him.

Sky

After you successfully managed to drag Sky throughout the unmarked trail back to the camp, you started barking out order to the boys to help him. They rushed to put their hands to work.

Hyrule first went about healing any injuries he may (read: absolutely) have obtained.

Four and Warrior went about making a tonic to help rid the pollen slash poison out of his system while you went to clean yourself off and pretend everything Sky said to you didn't actually happen.

When you returned feeling better about yourself and the current mess, you found that the boys had managed to corral the chaos of the camp as well. Sky was stable and dinner was already over the fire. It would be ready in a matter of minutes.

Luckily, Sky didn't stay asleep for long and soon it was as if nothing had ever happened.

But you decided that you still needed to get some answer out of the boy.

The following morning, after everyone's morning routines were done and over with, you found yourself guiding Sky away from everyone else just to see how much of yesterday he actually remembered.

He seemed unable to meet your eyes.

"Good morning." You bump your hip against him. He nearly falls over but catches himself. Sky's blushing. "Good morning."

"Sleep alright?"

"As good as I could given the pollen from that weird flower." Sky scratches the back of his neck.

"Oh perfect, you brought it up first. I was going to ask you about that."

Sky blushes harder. "Yeeaaah? What about it?"

"What do you remember? Do you remember what you told me?" You tilt your head, not bothering to acknowledge how awkward he no doubt feels. You feel a little vindicated since he made you drag his dead weight all the way back to camp on your own.

Sky looks away.

That's all the answer you need.

"Did you mean it? Truly?" Hope enters your voice before you can stop it. Sky catches it because of course he does.

"Yes. I did." He mutters. "I also recall that you said... you said that I was pretty too."

"You are!" You kiss his cheek, taking your shot. "Ok?"

"More than ok." Sky takes your hand softly, lacing your fingers together. "....Do you really think I'm the good child?"

"....you're one of the best ones here."

"I broke a chandelier on purpose to get an item."

"....my statement still stands, honey. But I'll remember that."

[oracle-of-dream]

Now that I know you write for svt can you please do a dom Mingyu x sub male reader smut with size kink?

I'll do you one better.

Photo Finisher

Minors DNI

Summary: Another day, another dick... A photoshoot for Cosmopolitan rolled your way with a promising model. Seventeen's largest member, Mingyu, asked for you by name...

Warnings: (Not Proofread) Male Reader, Size Kink, Massive Cock Mingyu, Creampie, Cockwarming, Carry/Lifting Sex, Struggles of fat cocks, Daddy nickname, Mention of blood (not related to sex), Cursing, Painful sex

Wordcount: 2k

Images flicked by as you tossed through the pages of recent issues of Cosmopolitan magazine. You could tell the photos were taken by professionals but lacked that glow that you enjoyed in your pictures. It just wasn't the same without it. You'd been commissioned by the magazine's owner to take photos for their next cover, apparently, their model asked for you specifically but withheld their identity from you.

Irritated, you walked into the studio, looking around for who your mystery client was. They have some nerve to call for you and not even give you a name. How the hell were you supposed to start and pre-work without knowing your client or studying other photos of them?

Your manager approached you, seeing your expression. "Y/n, I know you're not in the best of moods but let's not do anything to get us fired."

"Fired?" You raised your eyebrow. "Whoever this means so much to the company, I could get fired!?"

"No–" You ignored your manager's horrible attempt at recovery as you marched over to the dressing room door. He stepped in the way, blocking you from entering. "Just promise there won't be any blood to clean!"

"I'll make sure the bleeding will be internal. If you don't move, it'll be you internally bleeding."

They sheepishly moved aside, granting you access. You threw open the door to see a man with bronze skin, broad shoulders, and a military cut. He turned to you with a big smile. "Hello! You must be my photographer. I'm Mingyu, from Seventeen."

"Hi, Mingyu." You slowly entered the room, only the sound of your shoes clicking on the floor. "Why did you hide your name from me in the beginning?"

"I thought you might say no if you knew who I was... I've heard you're very picky with clients." Mingyu's head lowered like a puppy. "I hope that's not too much to ask."

You rolled your eyes. For someone so big, he was so docile... "Don't do that again. It's impolite." He nodded diligently. You sized him up; He was much taller than you, with a bicep the size of your head, and his chest bulged in the button-up he was wearing–the button held on for life. "Let's try and start again. I'm Y/n, and I'll be your photographer."

"I'm Mingyu, from Seventeen. It's nice to meet you." Mingyu stretched out a massive hand to shake yours, which made you feel small as he enclosed it in the handshake.

"Now we're acquaintances. Do you have any questions about my process?" You crossed your arms, trying to appear larger but it was useless against the mountain before you. Mingyu shifted his weight, looking around at the other staff in the dressing room. You scoffed, "Can we have the room please?" The makeup and clothing staff rushed out, relieved to get away from you. "Your questions. Speak."

Mingyu shifted awkwardly again before opening his mouth, "I-I didn't expect you to be so forward about things. I just want to look as good as possible, and you're very talented. So, I'd like to ask for whatever treatment is necessary."

It sounded like he practiced this speech a few times before speaking it. You smirked at the thought of him nervously practicing for you. "Sure. Do you know what you want?"

"W-What I want?"

"Yes. You've got to have something, right?"

"What can I ask for?"

"Nothing too physically damaging, I still need to work. But I want what you want, so tell me what you like about me."

Mingyu's eyes scanned you, as he'd been doing since you'd walked in. He honed in on your waist. "I wanna hold you."

"Okay, that's simple." You kicked off your shoes and waited for his embrace. When Mingyu lifted you off the ground by your waist, you gripped his arms for balance.

"Is this okay?"

"Fine. Just wasn't expecting to come off the ground..." You were level with his face now, about to admire his features much closer. His attached earlobes made his whole ear look larger cutely rounding out his face. But his sharp cheekbones and facial lines made him look more like a man–as well as his impressive figure.

"You're so... small." You'd never been called small before. The way Mingyu experimentally squeezed your sides forced a moan from you. "And you're voice is so... cute." Mingyu pulled you into him, holding you to his chest, you could feel his heartbeat racing.

"You're so excited already?"

"Maybe... I've got a thing for small things." He smirked at you, looking down at you. "When do we... do more?"

"Whenever you're ready. I've already prepared myself, but you may break me anyway..."

"I'm not a kid. I try not to break my toys," Mingyu's low voice rumbled in his chest as he lifted you to his lips easily. His lips engulfed yours as he shifted his arms to your legs, making you wrap around him. Even his tongue was thick when it forced past your lips. You twitched wrapping your arms around his neck to hold him close. Mingyu walked you to a chair, sitting down while setting you in his lap. "Come on, Mr. Photographer. Show me more." The smugness in his voice was completely different from the shy man you were talking to moments ago. You tried to lift your shirt over your head but Mingyu stopped you. "I want to fuck you in your clothes..."

"Fine. That's easier for me, but try not to mess your clothes up."

"I'll have to cum in you to not make a mess."

"Is that you trying to ask or are you telling me?"

"Depends on which one lets me cream you."

"Both do." You giggled as you slid your pants down enough for your ass to hang out.

Mingyu lifted you onto your knees, balancing you on his lap, to smack your ass a few times. One hand focused on kneading your ass while the other unbuttoned Mingyu's pants. Your hands on his massive shoulders, looking so small, Mingyu loved every second of watching you shake over him. When he managed to unleash his cock, he smiled up at you, "You wanna look first?"

You took a glance over your shoulder. It was at least ten inches. Probably–Definitely more. "That's going in me? You'll kill someone with that one day."

"No one's died yet."

"How do you want me?"

"You're gonna ride it."

You scoffed, "Are you serious? How could I lower myself onto that?"

"I'll help you. Don't worry, Daddy's got you." He winked.

"Fuck you." Your tongue poked your cheek as you reached down to line yourself with his cock. Mingyu's hands gripped your waist, their warms making your skin tingle. He held you tightly, ready to control how much cock you'd get at any time. "Just don't slam me down. I'd like to be able to walk for the rest of today."

"I thought I was supposed to get what I like."

"And I said no physical harm."

He nodded. "Of course. You're the boss."

"Sure, Daddy," You said as you slid onto his tip. It was so thick that your hole was already stretching more than you prepared yourself for. "Jesus," You whispered, trying to keep yourself stable on his shoulders.

"Leave on me as much as you need. Take your time, it's no rush."

"Don't piss me off," You grunted through gritted teeth. You were taking your time, but it just kept going. Every time you sank an inch, you used your hand to feel how much was left to go–and it always felt like you hadn't made any progress. "You fat cock, fucker."

"Are you cursing at me?" Mingyu raised an eyebrow.

"No, I was just–Holy fuck!" Mingyu pushed you down onto him, more than you were ready for. "What the fuck!?"

"Don't curse at me. I told you to take all the time you needed, and you're not listening. That's not my fault." You took deep breaths through your nose to keep yourself from crying. The pain raked through your whole body as your hole was still so tight it could barely stretch for Mingyu.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to curse."

"That's better. Now, let me help you." Mingyu lifted you, making your eyes roll as your guts moved back into place. Then he lowered you back down, making your nails dig into his shoulders. "That's it, squeeze as hard as you like. I've got you." Mingyu's words were soft-spoken and light as he moved you like a weight at the gym. At every down, he made you take more of him. He continued this pattern until you sat completely on his lap, his entire cock somehow buried inside you. Your mouth hung open but no sound could describe the full feeling you were experiencing. You'd had so many types of cocks, but one like this was different. He was a monster and he was balls deep inside you. "I don't think you can move, so I'll do it for you then." Mingyu used you, like a fleshlight, holding you tighter as he lifted his hips into you.

Your mouth overflowed with drool, dripping down onto your chest. Mingyu leaned forward and licked it up. "Such a mess slut, aren't you? You just use your job to get free cock from idols. Is the 'glow' thing even real, or do you just like getting stuffed?"

As much as you wanted to argue, your brain was full of static. You couldn't work your mouth right, only shallow gasps and soft moans spilled out.

"Let's end this now, we've still got work to do," Mingyu grunted as he stood, carrying you with him. He loosened his grip on you to let you slide until you were perpendicular to his torso. Your legs on his shoulders, his hands supporting your back and waist, and his cock pointing straight inside you. "Try not to scream. And don't bother holding your orgasm back. It's better to watch you cum all over yourself." Mingyu thrust once, forcing a loud moan out of you as your eyes rolled.

You had to focus on not letting your head dangle or you'd choke on your own tongue. But it was pretty difficult with the way you were pushed by each thrust and pulled back in with the momentum of your body. Mingyu moved at a moderate pace, but the strength behind each thrust made it feel like he was drilling you. You were being forced over the edge at 100 MPH.

"Please, cum... fast," You begged.

"For you cutie, I'll do just that. But, it'll be tough, so try not to bite your tongue off." Mingyu smiled as he cocked his hips back further and hit you with the same speed and power, but making more of his dick move. It was enough to instantly force you to cum, making a mess as ropes of cum shot all over your shirt. Your tightening hole made it harder for Mingyu to keep himself together as he went to town on you. His thrust had a moan behind it as his sweat dripped onto your body. "I'm gonna cum–come 'ere," Mingyu pulled you up as he hugged you tightly, fucking you through his high. The way his cock bulged with each wave of cum that passed through his cock was devilish. His whole body was made for fucking and it took you so long to realize it.

When you gained enough sanity to register the rest of the room around you, Mingyu was sitting back in the chair holding you as you laid on top of him–his cock still inside you.

"We've gotta work," You groaned as you tried to climb off. But Mingyu's grip on your body was so tight that you couldn't move.

"Five more minutes. Then work."

Mingyu held you hostage for almost fifteen minutes before you convinced him to let you go. You had to have an intern wheel you around in a chair to get your photos, but you still got them... All while Mingyu had that dumb smirk on his face, as he stared at you through the lens.

[saintescuderia]

pancakes (pt. 7)

AKA - the story of how the naive australian rookie befriended the gym junkie F1 hospitality worker with the shoe collection - and inadvertently broke the grid's most treasured and unspoken rule: you don't go for y/n.

series masterlist here :) // the pancakes recipe here :)

A/N: here we are! and CHARLES WON MONACO! (also sorry for the lance slander RPM influences me far too much)

P7 - 2.5L water bottle

"Oh for fuck's sake."

The lyrics rapping over the Metro Boomin beat were cut off as you turned off your engine. You huffed spotting the asshole in green getting out of the Aston Martin in front of you.

Mother fucking Lance Stroll.

Stroll got on your every nerve from the fact that he, as a paid driver, was the epitome of what you hated about F1 and the cash is king nature of the sport. It didn't help your opinion of him that his treatment of the Hospitality workers was very telling of his personality (i.e a spoiled little bitch) - but he also treated the rest of Aston Martin like that.

His engineers he bossed around. His PR team he bossed around. His fucking team principle he bossed around. You had never ever seen a driver be able to literally pick and choose what Media they wanted to do until Lance Stroll. Not even Räikkönen had gotten away with things that way Stroll did.

The worst part of it all, though, was that Lance's attitude of I can do whatever I want meant that he really thought he could get any girl he wanted.

Namely - you.

Your Supra wasn't exactly inconspicuous and Lance had (unfortunately) been in F1 long enough to make the connection that the flash JDM car parked in the lot tended to belong to you. And even though your windows were tinted a few shades darker than legal limit, Lance was getting out of the car right next to you. There was no chance he didn't know that it was you.

If anything, he likely made his driver park next to your Supra on purpose.

"Lord give me strength." You muttered seeing him come up to your window.

But then Lance Stroll had the fucking audacity to tap on your window.

You immediately reached for the handle and opened the door which caused him to stumble for the lack of space as you did so. "Oh, woah! Hey!" The Canadian accent pissed you off for no other reason than it reminded you of Drake. Someone else you fucking despised.

"Don't touch my car." You said, voice flat.

"Oh, er. My bad. Nice looking ride."

"Thanks." You said curtly, internally cringing at how he said 'ride' like that. You went around and grabbed the vast array of things you always hauled with you. Said items for today consisted of your gym bag, your workbag, your lunch bag and your comically large 2.5L water bottle. You always were carrying a lot.

"Need help?"

"No."

"I insist."

"Don't."

"Why you always gotta play hard to get?"

You said nothing, forcefully biting your tongue. You were out of practice with Lance Stroll's shit since Domenicali had finally relented and cut the amount of shifts you would be rostered on Aston Martin. Which had been a shame since the crew were quite nice and you really taking the piss with Nando.

Still, Lance Stroll was insufferable - and you were evidently out of practice dealing with his spoiled delusions. You were just glad his father wasn't around. God help you when it came to the European races.

"I have to get to work." You said and locked your car. There was a call from behind where some Aston Martin people were waiting Lance but he ignored them. Instead, falling into step with you.

"I don't see you around Aston Martin anymore." He said, trying to make conversation.

You kept ignoring him, hoping he'd get the hint. Pulling out your phone, you started to compose a to text to Oscar. He would coming here with Lily and had said something about finally introducing the two of you. Your eyes checked the time at the top of your phone screen. Based on what time it was, Oscar should've been here by now - and could save you from Lance Stroll.

to: piazzas 👼

where the fuck are u ?? lance stroll is trying to talk to me send help

"I don't know." Was all you said, typing away with one hand as the other held a bag, hoodie, bottle and lanyard. You lifted the arm to tap in through the gate and then continued to ignore Lance - who continued to walk beside you and speak.

"That wouldn't be because you're working for McLaren." Lance said. This made you fingers pause as the blatant comment caught you off-guard. You sucked your teeth and took a deep breath. You adjusted your grip on your bags and continued to type another message.

to: piazzas 👼

srsly im gonna fucking rage at this point

"I don't know what you're on about." You said and felt relief seeing the Read time-stamp arrive below your sent message and three dots finally pop up as Oscar typed a response.

Lance made that irritating sound - his laugh. "You know my dad will pay you double what they're paying."

from: piazzas 👼

I'm at the McLaren motorhome. In a meeting with some PR. Can you come?

You huffed and pocketed your phone. Your shift was at Ferrari today and so there was no logical reason for you to walk into McLaren. Then again, it was early and you were yet to get dressed. It should be okay. People rarely noticed you since you looked like some random trainer with the amount of stuff you always carried.

Except, right now, Lance Stroll was not getting the hint and pissing off. Meaning you couldn't exactly freely walk into McLaren no questions asked.

Especially after that comment about you working for McLaren.

"What do you say?" The annoying idiot stood there, still waiting on you apparently.

"What?" You asked, shifting the items in your hand and pausing in your steps. You were in front of Ferrari right now and considered going in to dump your stuff before sneaking off to McLaren. That would at least get rid of Lance.

"Just say the number. How much. Dad wants you onboard and so do I. And all that legal stuff we can sort out." Lance said with a nonchalant shrug that pissed you off more than it should've. "My trainer isn't really working for me anyway."

You stared at him. Was he being serious right now? Your mouth fell open at the audacity and you glanced at his manager behind him who was looking up at the sky, clearly uncomfortable.

But, of course, unable to say anything.

"Ah, Stroll! Mademoiselle is with us today!" You turned your head to the French accent of your other favourite Team Principle. Fred Vasseur arrived with one half of the Scuderia drivers beside him. Your eyes widened on the sight of Carlos there, sunglasses pushed up in the head of hair that had its own fan-accounts and was the star of many, many Tiktok thirst edits.

Fuck.

Last night, your uncle had thrown you for a loop. Carlos Sainz had somehow infiltrated your uncle's sphere with a video of him refusing to sign a Barcelona jersey.

This, your uncle took as a good omen and a worth his approval.

"Approval for what?"

"None of these drivers are worth your time. But this one seems good." Your uncle's voice had sounded through the speaker function of your phone as you balanced a ball on your head. Last night you had present for his usual call to his sister and Dia was adamant you cop it.

And cop it you did. His newest idea was not Jude or Vinicius - but apparently Carlos Sainz.

"What? Because Carlos didn't sign a Messi jersey?"

"His name is Carlos?" Your uncle had asked and you had, in turn, just groaned. You half expected him to make some ridiculous comment about the similar names being a good omen or something.

"Yeah. Carlos Sainz."

"Sainz? Hm." There was a short pause from your uncle. "Is his father a rally driver?"

"Yes." You had frowned, not expecting that.

"Ah! I know him. Good family."

"What?" You said, still stuck on how your uncle knew the Sainz family. "How do you know him?"

"Why didn't you tell me about him before?"

"Because... I never noticed Carlos." The football you had been kicking slowed as you found yourself frowning at the phone on the kitchen table. "It's... I don't know. It's just Carlos."

"I want you to talk to him. To 'Just Carlos' as you say." Your uncle was not relenting. "Go have dinner together. He has a good face."

Your uncle's attempts to get you married to what he deemed was a 'respectable man' and not, in his opinion, 'some limpy Frenchman' (you would often remind him Charles was from Monaco nor was it was like that between you two) or 'some tatted up Australian wanna be Italian' (you would also remind that Daniel barely identified as Italian). However, all of your uncle Carlo's options had always been footballers which, you and Dia knew, was just a ploy to move you from car circuits to football pitches.

But last night, you found, Carlos Sainz apparently had the Ancelotti tick of approval and he was adamant you and Carlos apparently go out for dinner.

You took your uncle's comments to be why you suddenly found yourself feeling a little awkward seeing the driver in the flesh. The on you admittedly never paid much attention to before.

"Maybe next race you can have her." The Spanish driver - who apparently had your uncle's approval - said. Carlos took a sip from the small coffee cup in hand. He was on his piccolo, you noted.

Carlos came up to you and you felt yourself caught out and taken aback by him openly reaching for the strap of your gym bag and your bottle, prying them for your hands. The surprise had you letting go and once Carlos had a grip on them, he nodded at everyone in green. "See you guys on track." And put a hand on your back to guide you into the home. His clear dismissal towards Lance made you smile and it made your face warm up even more.

Your smile dropped.

What the fuck?

"Um. Thank you." You said, once you were out of earshot.

"He's an idiot." Carlos said, with a tired sigh. This made you laugh.

"You're telling me."

It was then that you realised your laugh was nervous. You cleared your throat. You were going to rip into your uncle. And then yourself for being so stupid. Because this was stupid. You barely ever noticed Carlos. What? You find out he really hates Barcelona and has really, really great hair and suddenly you're tongue-tied around him?

"Ha. Yeah. I get that. And I can hold that." You went to reach for the strap of your bag on his shoulder. Carlos moved away.

"Don't insult me." He said, tsking you with a grin on his face. "Let's go. Fred spoke all morning about your pizzas."

"Yes! I did." Fred said, reappearing with his assistant who was handing him a paper he was half reading as he spoke. "Guenther didn't let me have any last time."

You couldn't but smile, remembering Guenther's loud curses echoing throughout all of Haas when he found you plating some aside for Fred. You gave Fred a salute. "I'll get right to it. Let me just dump my things in the backroom."

"I'll take them there." Carlos said, evidently not relenting. You sighed and let him carry them for you as you both made your way to the backroom.

Unfortunately, this meant walking through the entire motorhome in which case many Ferrari staff did a double take seeing you walk with Carlos. Whilst it wasn't uncommon to see you around, nor for you to have any interactions with drivers - you literally made their food and coffee - but Carlos was holding all your many, many belongings and walking to the small backroom that were reserved for Hospitality.

"Thank you." You said, appreciating the chivalry. What you didn't appreciate, however, was how your body was reacting to Carlos.

You didn't get why you were suddenly so... hyperaware around Carlos. Seeing driver content wasn't something new to you. Why did it affect you like this? Maybe addressing it would just help.

And so your mouth just came out with it.

"My uncle likes you."

"What?"

You quickly elaborated. "He saw a video of you refusing to sign a Barca jersey."

Your uncle had even sent you said video of Carlos, the driver windswept in his Ferrari, driving off when a fan passed him a pen and the jersey. You had to admit he did look good in the video and the way he drove off like that had made your eyebrows shoot up, impressed.

"Your uncle... Don Ancelotti?"

"Yeah." You said with a laugh at the name. The Don. You were proud of your uncle and what he achieved, earning him such a nickname. Dia always said her brother's intimidating Don cigar smoking aura had been passed down to you - and not his own children/your cousins.

You weren't surprised Carlos knew about who your uncle was. It wasn't exactly a secret. And considering the world of Formula 1, that wasn't even the craziest connection for someone working in the Paddock. An Alpine techie was distant cousins with Mbappé, a Haas mechanic was close cousins with LeBron, and Valentino Rossi's babysister's best friend's brother was a PR manager for George Russell.

So, no. No one really paid much attention to you and your uncle. The most it had ever come up was the odd few comments of the Paddock's EPL fans coming to you lamenting Carlo Ancelotti moving from Everton to Real Madrid.

"Woah, that's pretty cool." Carlos said, his eyes widening. "I definitely need to let my dad know."

"Apparently they know each other?" You asked, hoping he might shed more light on the connection your uncle somehow had to Sainz Sr. Your uncle hadn't managed to explain that curious bit.

"Do they? He never said." He said and you blew a raspberry. You really were going to give your uncle a piece of your mind. You shook your head and Carlos laughed, saying something that went to deaf ears as he took his sunglasses off his head - causing some strands to fall across his forehead as he was looking down at you.

Fuck.

He used the other hand to run through said black locks.

Double fuck.

The man seriously could've made it as a hair model.

You looked down from his hair to meet his eyes and felt yourself flush even more knowing he'd caught you staring at his hair. You cleared your throat again - when had it gotten so dry? - and spoke. "You um, you could really make bank doing hair endorsements, you know?"

"Bank?" Carlos asked, not picking up the slang.

"Money." You explained the slang and then thought of the Spanish translation. "El dinero."

"Ah, so was it the Don who taught you Spanish?" Carlos asked, lips turning up to grin.

"Nah I don't really speak Spanish." You shook your head and explained. "I just know that word from some from lyrics and stuff."

"Stuff? From living in Los Angeles?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. You blinked, surprised he knew that tidbit about you. "I remember you telling Max about it back in Torro Rosso."

Carlos' observational skills evidently had you in surprise. First it was him remembering your Egyptian heritage and now this?

"I, uh. Yeah for a year and a bit. I worked in a garage." You explained, feeling more awkward and, well, something else that you refused to acknowledge as nervousness.

You didn't get nervous. You had literally served countless celebrities and prided yourself on not getting starstruck or fucking nervous.

And yet, here was Carlos running a hand through his hair catching you off guard with how hyperaware you were of him.

"Ah." Carlos laughed and you stared at the way a thin gold chain glittered around his wrist. "Well, if you know any hair sponsors you'd recommend, let me know."

"Oh, yeah. Done." You said, going back to the previous conversation. "But I'm expecting a cut, then." You said, opening up a locker and beginning to stuff the bags into it. "Hoy por ti - "

" - mañana por mi." Carlos finished the phrase, amused. "It's different in Spanish, though, you know?"

"What is?"

"English you say scratch my back or something. In Spanish it's more about generosity. You take care of me so I will take care of you next."

"Oh." You said, taking in the mini Spanish lesson. Admittedly all your Spanish came from working with Tyler in the garage on Fairfax Ave and, of course, song lyrics. There had been a few funny conversations with Fernando - but nothing intimate such as I will take care of you.

You didn't really know what to say next. Your face was already flushed and you'd probably be able to cook something on your cheek from how hot it was.

You were going to kill your uncle. Real Madrid could win Champions League without him. And even if they didn't - well, Guenther would be happy to see another team finally have a chance.

"Also," Carlos casually continued, unfazed - or not noticing - your lull, "there's going to be a game tomorrow night. I'm not sure if you were planning to watch it."

Thankfully, his words momentarily did distract you from the inner monologue. Real Madrid wasn't playing this weekend. Atletico Madrid was.

Maybe it was Carlos being from Madrid or following the Spanish league religiously but, either way, it wasn't a game you had intended to watch.

"Oh, I mean I like Griezmann." You said, referring to the famed Atletico player, "but I don't watch La Liga games unless Real Madrid is playing." Besides, if you showed any interest in any other team, The Don would have your head. Your uncle still didn't know you owned a jersey of another team. Even if it was only for Mo Salah.

"No, the Liverpool game." Carlos corrected. "They're playing Manchester United, are they not?"

This was surprising. There had been no indication in the past of Carlos ever caring about any other team besides Real Madrid - let alone being that interested a whole other league. If you ever were going to talk EPL with a driver, it was probably a passing conversation with Lewis. Maybe George if the Wolves were involved. And that was when the drivers themselves initiated the conversation.

Max, and his love for your team's biggest rival Barcelona, was who you used to talk to about football, who you used to stay up and watch games or play Fifa with.

And since that was no more, you sort of lost any passion for it.

So this was very much news to you.

Carlos Sainz. Talking to you about EPL.

More than that - asking you if you were going to watch an EPL game.

"Uh, yeah maybe." You finally spoke. During your drive to work, you had vaguely thought about changing your schedule so as to be able to watch the game. You had played around with the idea of doing a workout after your shift tomorrow so you could stay up after qualifying and watch the match.

The only issue was that this would you mean you wouldn't be able to work out before the race on Sunday - and you were definitely going to be stressed working a whole weekend at Ferrari.

But if you watched it you could stream it on one of the TVs in the driver's gym - that way Oscar could workout with you also.

Suffice to say, you hadn't yet made up your mind.

"Lando and I were going to watch it. He's a fan of Manchester United." Carlos said, looking at you expectantly. "Don't worry, I won't tell the Don."

It was that look which made your eyes widen slightly, the thought suddenly dawning on you: was Carlos asking to watch the game together?

Something erupted in your stomach.

However, your reflex to any driver interaction had immediately kicked in.

"Oh, nice. I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to watch it with the schedule. You guys enjoy, though."

Carlos opened his mouth but thankfully someone, a man dressed in the red uniform, appeared in the doorway calling for Carlos. The interruption was very much welcomed as the driver nodded and was resolved to leave you before your body gave you any more confusing signals.

You took a second, a steading second, before you slammed your locked shut and went out to look for Oscar.

“And there’s the young rookie, Oscar Piastri. Looking really good after his amazing win in Jeddah. 9th, outperforming everyone’s expectations!"

“Yes! He’s just arrived with his - is that his trainer?”

“She looks tough enough to be one. Wait is that — “

The commentators immediately realise and change the subject to something else to do with Fernando’s winning streak and Aston Martin’s upgrades. You sigh at the clip that had been playing on the TV in front of you where you could be seen handing him the Antinal Dia had been adamant Oscar have.

Zak had informed Oscar who had informed you about the conversations had between all the TPs about, well, you.

It was startling to say the least. 

"I'm afraid people are starting to catch on." Oscar's PR Manager said with a stern look as she stared at both you and Oscar. Her name was Sophie and despite her young age putting her in the same ball-park as you and Oscar... it still felt like you both were students in trouble, being told off by your teacher.

Oscar had asked you about a Sophie Wright a few months ago. You briefly knew of the girl from her interning days, following other PR members around the McLaren motorhome over the years. She was a little on the shorter side, the chubbier side and, unfortunately, these two appearance traits meant she was excluded from the other PR girls who definitely already had a group chat going.

However, you also knew this meant she would be good at her job. Sophie could blend in the background quietly, unnoticed and do her job well. You also doubted she would easily jump around for a better opportunity and do Oscar dirty. Then there was the fact that when you served her a skinny latte one time, she made sure to read your name badge and thank you with a genuine smile.

And so you had given Oscar the thumbs up.

Never, in a million years, did you think you would be here though. Getting a debrief from her as Sophie tapped on her iPad. You risked a glance at Oscar who looked indifferent and nonplussed.

"Sorry Soph," he said, "but I'm not exactly aware what this means exactly."

There was some noise at the door and in walked Zak Brown himself. He was still talking to someone outside in the hall and said a 'yep, bye!' and then finally turned to address the room he was halfway in. "Ah, here we are. Just the people I need to see." His eyes fell on you and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat.

"No trouble at all. I know you're friends with Oscar and just wanting to help him out." Zak said, coming to sit down. "Ah, so you've seen the clips." He looked at the TV where Sophie's iPad was still screensharing the clip from yesterday.

Thursday's media days was always the least loved day for everyone - save for the bloodthirsty journalists. Drivers hated all the mundane questions and the paranoia of microphones and cameras everywhere. And you hated media day because it meant extra long barista shifts.

"Yes, Sophie showed me before but I thought Tezza should see it." Oscar explained, using your nickname. Your heart warmed at how considerate that was. You met his eyes and smiled softly at him. Your love for the kid grew daily.

"Good thinking!" Zak said, nodding agreeably to his driver. You fought to keep your face passive as you regarded the McLaren CEO.

Your opinion of Zak Brown was that he got further than he ever dreamt to get from starring on Wheel of Fortune. And whilst you did admire him for not being brought up in the snobbery and pretentiousness of the generational wealth that F1 tends to circulate through... you did note how he sucked up to the those snobs and their pretentious generational wealth.

Namely, how he did anything and everything for to make Lando Norris happy. In your opinion, it was a lil cringe at times.

"Well, the problem is that it's getting harder and harder for me to just make it out to the rest of the Paddock that you and Oscar are just friends spotting one another at the gym." Zak said. "Christian Horner is running rampant, scared you'll turn Oscar into the next Max Verstappen."

You snorted at this. Unfortunately this drew everyone's attention to you and you knew you would need to explain. "Max and Oscar are polar opposites."

Oscar could very easily become a World Champion without you. He was smart, dedicated and very talented. And whilst Max was all those things, he didn't need someone to train him up so much as tame him down after all that Jos did to him. You guys had just as much sessions on anger management as you had sessions on endurance training.

"Either way, it's coming to be viewed as a breach." Zak said. "And if you breach your contract then - "

"I know." You interrupted him. He didn't need to explain that to you.

"There's also the issue that people think you two are dating." Sophie spoke up from the front. She tapped on her iPad a few times and up came up a few screenshots of Twitter threads hypothesising about the two of you. "Your Twitter had a followed increase of 150% since Oscar followed you. Which didn't help."

"And whose fault was that?" You said, looking at Oscar with an unimpressed look. "You're lucky I deleted that shit so quickly."

"Yeah look, my bad. The timing was off." He said, accepting responsibility. You still remember all the notifications of the Twitter shit-storm Oscar set off. You literally had to delete your account because of it.

"Yes, Christian did bring that up." Zak said. "And it's a good thing Oscar's lovely Lauren is here - "

"Lily, sir." Sophie quickly corrected her boss. You wanted to groan. Oscar just looked down to hide his smile. Under the table, you kicked at his legs.

"Lily! Sorry." He gave a sheepish look to Oscar. "Yes, you and Lily this morning was a good idea."

"Unfortunately, Daniel did like a few of these Tweets." Sophie added, bringing up the screenshots of a Tweet about you and Oscar that was liked by none other than @danielricciardo.

You clenched your fist, your nails digging into your palm as you thought of how fucking petty that was. Daniel wasn't a fucking idiot. Aside from the fact that he knew your type - (admittedly, the tall/dark features combination always got you) Oscar was so young.

If anything, you thought of Oscar, genuinely, as a younger brother. As you had Max. Daniel knew that. So he knew exactly what he was doing by liking those kind of fucking Tweets. Tweets you wouldn't put past Red Bull to send out themselves.

Because, if anything, they would be praying it wouldn't be true about you and Oscar. Otherwise Christian Horner wouldn't have any leg to stand on. That was how you got around being connected to Charles, anyway. Family was the exception.

"I know your contract has you tied to only working for Red Bull and Ferrari's drivers but--"

"Red Bull and Charles Leclerc." You corrected in a tight voice, your eyes falling down to the table in front of you. "I was only granted exemption to work with Charles as he was considered family."

This caused him to frown as he pulled out his phone and began typing at it. "I thought you were allowed to work for Red Bull or Ferrari. No new teams."

"Yeah, no." You said, making Oscar chuckle at the Australianism. "No new teams outside of Red Bull and Torro Rosso." You specified.

"Christian didn't say that." Zak said.

"It was kept really quiet." You explained. "Charles was, um, he granted exemption from my Red Bull contract because he - well, he was considered family." You cleared your throat, not able to even look at Oscar. "I was signed for Torro Rosso and Red Bull. Never Ferrari."

"That's not what Toto said at the meeting." Zak said, shaking his head. "He made it seem that you could work for Ferrari."

You said nothing. Toto Wolff had approached you once or twice but your answer had always been the same, no matter what he offered. Eventually, he dropped it. You just didn't realise he dropped it because Toto had sought out the fine print.

"Wait so why aren't you Charles' trainer?" Zak asked, looking up from his phone. "He'd be insane to not have you!"

You froze. How were you supposed to answer that? For once, you had hoped the F1 rumour mill had properly run its course and Zak would know better than to ask that obvious question.

"Eh, Leclerc's loss." Oscar interjected with a casual shrug. "Let's be glad we don't need to worry about that."

The hidden meaning behind his smooth words were clear and you felt your love for the boy increase tenfold at his save.

"What - if I may," Sophie started, trying to be sensitive with her wording and her eyes darted between you and Oscar, "what were the grounds for family?"

You took a moment to think of how you might answer. You really didn't want to but if this might help the boy beside you, you would. "Charles - and I, like, I dunno. We grew up together? Everyone just knew." You pulled at your hoodie sleeve, feeling every bit uncomfortable with the question.

"You didn't date?" Sophie asked. Your face must've shown something very unpleasant because she was quick to amend. "I'm only saying because the grounds for family are always a grey area."

You pressed your lips together and went back to staring at the table. "There was nothing romantic between Charles and I." You said. The room fell silent for a moment as Zak tapped on his screen a few times and then he spoke up.

"You also trained Daniel. He told me in 2021." Zak said and put the phone down and you wanted to roll you eyes. Of course Daniel would say that. "And I don't want to get into all the drama but you were dating him back when you were training Verstappen."

Zak did have a point.

A key point that you had forgotten.

You paused and watched the screen in front of you and the liked by @danielricciardo Tweet. "Christian's always had a soft spot for Daniel so..." You trailed off. "But yeah, you're right. It was fine even though I was contracted to Max under Torro Rosso then Red Bull."

"Hm." Zak said, bringing a hand to his chin as he leaned back, pensive, in his chair. "I can see how romantic grounds could be argued." He said it with a laugh, looking between you and Oscar.

You raised an eyebrow at the comment. You honestly weren't sure if this was just Zak Brown being Zak Brown - i.e saying dumb things to suck up since he was out of his element - or if he actually meant that. Either way, it pissed you off.

Because there was no fucking way you'd let that happen to Oscar.

"No it can't. Contracts aside, I'm not forcing someone I think of as my younger brother into a PR relationship with me." You said.

"It could work, though." Sophie said, taking a professional tone as you turned your glare to her. "This is what I was trying to say before. The Twitter comments about you and Oscar are not necessarily negative. If anything you've helped increased Oscar's public image and Red Bull wouldn't able to say anything about you two on romantic family grounds."

You were seething.

Thankfully, Oscar was more level-headed than you.

"Yeah, look guys. Tezza's pretty but not my type." He finally chimed in, lighthearted. "Besides, I think we should focus more on the car and that way it's a fair advantage to both me and Lando."

You looked back at him and took a deep breath. Oscar smiled at you, chill as always, and you took another breath. You wanted to give the boy a big hug.

"Look, Zak," you said, looking back at the TP, calming down a little more, "I'm sorry. I'm causing you all this shit."

"You got Oscar into the points." Zak waved off. "Don't worry about it. I just want to find a way that works for everyone." You sucked on your teeth. Whilst it was nice to know that Zak Brown was willing to take risks on you also wanted to know how this conversation would've gone if Oscar hadn't finished 9th in Jeddah last weekend.

Such was the way of F1.

Sophie then tapped on her iPad and the TV showed a picture taken by Ky Millman. It was of Oscar hugging you after the win in Jeddah. Some comments were displayed and you found your lips turning up as you read them. They were, as Sophie said, sort of positive.

kymillman

liked by mclaren, saintescuderia and 15'483 others

kymillman SUPPORT FOR SUCCESS! Oscar surprised many with his amazing performance in Jeddah and goes to celebrate with a F1 Hospitality worker and friend @ynusername!

view all 76 comments

halaaaamadrid girl help his shoe game pls

ln44girlieee @mclaren we need content from this duo plssss u have them right there

logansversion as if mclaren is going to post a couple?

f1fanforever they're friends?

ln44girlieee idc the level of sarcasm between them would be SO GOOD

oscarpastries i love THIS! 😫😫😫

justanotherinchident omg charles finna be RIOTING!

team44roscoes wait why would charles be upset ?? i thought @ynusername was with dannyric?

maxiel4eva_16 yeh 😒 jumping on all them aussies

You rolled your eyes at the last comment. Maybe it was a good thing you were off Twitter and barely used Instagram anymore.

"It'll be hard to argue that Oscar is family since you haven't known him as long as you did with Charles," Sophie spoke up, bringing your attention back to her, "but we can maybe try to build it up from a PR point a view."

"That Oscar and I are family and not dating?" You asked. Sophie nodded. You looked at Oscar, wanting his confirmation.

"Yeah, sure thing Vin Diesel." He laughed.

"Hey, hey. Fuck you." The grin on your face was contagious and he broke out laughing also. You liked this new idea and turned back to look at Sophie a lot more positively. You were glad McLaren gave Oscar the girl.

"Okay, so what do we do to show the world I've adopted Oscar?" You asked.

"I think you'll find my dad's already half adopted you." Oscar corrected. "He wants to see your Supra."

"That's perfect!" Sophie said, excited. "Maybe Oscar can post a story of the interaction sometime this weekend? Make sure Lily is there. Maybe you can play the tired third wheel of them!" Sophie looked at you as ranted off her ideas. You nodded, suddenly less excited.

Whilst it was nice to know there was a plan in place to help you and Oscar continue to work together, you didn't like the way Sophie said for you 'play' a role. The one, sole consolation you had going for you these past few years was the lack of needing to play any PR role. Hearing Sophie speak was giving you flashbacks to times long gone.

"Happy with that gang?" Zak said, placing his palms on the table. "We'll work on building the PR and hopefully that will get Red Bull off our back as we also improve the car!" He stood up and left, not joining Sophie and Oscar as they said goodbye to the boss.

"Wait, does this mean I need to actually start using Instagram?" You asked.

"Yes." Sophie said. Then she looked up from her iPad. "Don't you? You were tagged in it?"

"Like, I have an account but I stopped using it. I'm pretty sure I deleted the app." You said, pulling out your phone to see that yes, there was no pink app downloaded. You pressed the download button, knowing what was in store for you.

"Download it. You're already at 2.4k followers." She said, bringing up your profile on the TV screen.

"The fuck? I had like three hundred last time I checked."

"Five." Sophie corrected. "Your growth has increased since you started training the F2 winner who follower Y/N Tessio after the most controversial Formula 1 Tweet that ever was Tweeted." Sophie said, eyeing Oscar with a raised eyebrow.

"I already said sorry about that."

"Do you know how stressful you made my first day? Helen scared me!" Sophie asked, humour on her face. "Though, nothing like jumping in the deep end."

The Instagram app had finishing downloading and you logged onto it - thank you pre-saved passwords - to be met with a fucking plethora of notifications that suddenly had you overwhelmed. As such, you immediately went out of the app and put your phone in your pocket. You could deal with that all later.

"I'm not using Twitter again." You said, thinking back to the Tweets Daniel had liked. "Fuck that."

"Yes, only Tumblr or Reddit over here." Oscar said, pointing to you.

"Tumblr?" Sophie looked at you, surprised.

"Yeah? What of it?" You asked, defensive.

"Nothing. Just surprised. I would ask to follow you but Tumblr is the safe haven of anonymity. I get it." She nodded. "Alright, perfect. I'll draft up a PR plan. In the mean time, do you mind if I review your profile and send you some tips?" Looking at you for the last bit.

"By all means." You said, half wishing you could give her control of it like Oscar and be done with it. You just wanted to be able to work with Oscar without causing him any trouble and not having to worry about this PR bullshit.

"Perfect!" She said, beaming.

Your phone buzzed. It was a text reminder about you needing to go back to check on some dough you'd prepared. Back at Ferrari. You sighed and stood up.

"Alright, sounds good. I gotta get back to work. Take your supplements and electrolytes. The green one." The last bit was aimed at Oscar as you met his eyes and then turned to leave the room and walk, head down, out of the McLaren motorhome.

You took a deep breath as soon as you made it into the open air. With how things were going, it was likely that you would be having another gym session today. You arrived at Ferrari and saw the back of Carlos' head. You felt yourself gulp and turned to hide behind the coffee machine. Maybe you would watch Liverpool play.

The mention of your connection to soccer was also pointed out in the room you had just rushed out of. Sophie made a small sound and rounded on Oscar, shoving something in his face.

"Did you know that half of Real Madrid are following her? Jude Bellingham just commented on the post!"

She stared at Oscar, hoping he might provide an answer. The young driver just shrugged. "She did say something about her uncle coaching a team." Sophie stared at him, incredulous. "How was I to know? I don't watch soccer."

< prev ch [6] | next ch [8] >

taglist:

@eugene-emt-roe @spookystitchery @vicurious28 @taytaylala12 @c-losur3

@hiireadstuff @samantha-chicago @fionaschicken @casperlikej @bookstore-of-dreams

@itsjustkhaos @sam-is-lost @laneyspaulding19 @formula1mount @bokutos-babyowl

@stampiej @alilcloudy @bingussthirdtoe @sisinever @lilymurphy03

@inlovewmarlenemckinnon @charllleclerc @richardniixon @sp1rl @nikfigueiredo

[daydreams-after-dark]

Hii 👋🏻

Can you please do a mean dom Han Jisung × female reader please . Anything about mean dom Han 🙏🏻🙏🏻

You don't have to write one if you're uncomfortable with it , it's completely up to you 🖤

Thank you 🖤

MDNI 🔞

Jisung had just left you there. Kneeling on the floor. Hands held out cupped, so you don’t lose a drop of his cum. The cum that should have been inside of you one way or another. You let out a whimper and squeezed your thighs together, trying to seek friction. Your clit ached to be touched.

"Don't you dare fucking move." he'd sneered, and left the room.

Where had he gone? How long was he going to be? Was there more to this punishment?

Meanwhile, Jisung had gone to get a drink and was laying on your shared bed. Waiting. You'd come in eventually. You were, after all, a brat. You were bound to come in - against his rules - at any moment. To complain, beg, condescend him in attempt to be given punishment that would make you come undone.

Nope. You didn’t deserve it after making him wait up half the night, and then trying to sneak in long after the time he said for you to be home by. That's why he punished you by jerking off and coming into your cupped hands. He didn't even let you touch his cock.

He laid there for what felt like hours. Yet you didn’t come in. Hmm… so you're actually being obedient? Jisung was… disappointed. The push pull of your dynamic was what got him off… what got you off too. Did you fall asleep? Were you actually upset? Good! He pretended to himself.

Hiding his concern and some internal panic behind a stern and emotionless expression, Jisung stalked back into the living room. His cock immediately hardened at the sight, yet his face looked less than impressed.

You had been caught red-handed so to speak. Sitting on the chair with your dress up around your waist and your fingers knuckle deep inside of your cunt. Jisung’s cum plastered all over your pussy.

"Tsks Tsks" Jisung crossed his arms over his chest.

Your eyes flung open. Regret washing over your face. "I-I am sorry…Sir!" you cry. But you didn’t stop. You were close, so close, that you just kept finger fucking yourself. Jisung’s eyes almost gave away how erotic you looked as the room was filled with your moans and the wetness… so fucking loud… so lewd… of your arousal and his cum mixed together.

"If you had been a good girl and waited for me I might have considered letting you fuck yourself on me. But now… now I have to think of another punishment."

Your response was an orgasm crashing over you. You were willing to take any punishment at this point. It would be worth it because that orgasm was intense.

Jisung stormed over to you, ripping your hand away from your pulsating core. "This cunt only comes for me. Do you hear me? Or do I need to remind you?"

He looked at you suspiciously. "Or were you hoping I’d snap and fuck you anyway? Even when you have been so defiant? Hmm? Next time I will tie your hands together first so you can’t try and fuck yourself with your pathetic little fingers."

He threw you over his shoulder and carried you to the bedroom feeling absolutely torn. He wanted to sink into you so bad, the visual he’d just walked in on was too much. Yet he needed to stay strong or you would be pulling tricks like this again. If he fucked you now you wouldn’t learn your lesson.

As he laid you on the mattress he decided that would be a problem for future Jisung, because his cock throbbed and you looked sleepy and fucked out, and so resistible. "No!" he slapped you gently across your face . "Don’t think you can be falling asleep now. Open your eyes. Look at me. Now… you’re going to watch me use your pretty little pussy until I am good and ready to stop. You got that?"

He bullied his cock into your dripping cunt, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. You felt heavenly. "You're gonna just lay there and be a pretty little cock sleeve." he grunted. "You're gonna take every fucking inch." he snarled and pushed your thighs wider and snapped his hips brutally.

He leaned over you, pressing his body on top of yours, crushing you. His breath heavy and hot against your neck as he pounded into you. "I own you, baby. Got it? Your pussy belongs to me." he growls as he chases his orgasm. “Take it like a good little slut. My little slut.” He whimpers as empties himself inside you, collapsing in an exhausted heap.

"Yes sir…. I understand." You sobbed, pretending that Jisung was calling the shots, when in fact you got what you wanted all along.

asks : open

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @fun-fanfics @wolfennracha @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @armystay89 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @kyunchoni @justforreaders @melochacco @scenuniverse

[goldenwilliamson]

more than friends | leah williamson

a/n: please send any recs you have my way! probably most comfortable writing for leah, lucy bronze, mapi leon, and some of the matildas. but feel free to send anything through and i'll see how i go x

pairing: leah williamson x reader

summary: reader and leah both play for arsenal and england. reader and leah get together after being friends for many years, but they decide to keep it a secret from their teammates. they don't do a very good job though.

word count: 1.2k

You and Leah had been teammates for several years now, playing together at Arsenal, and representing England together since you were just teenagers. It was a strictly platonic friendship as for most of this time you were both in relationships with other people. More recently though, since you were both single, you'd helped each other through your breakups, and had become closer than ever.

You didn't see it coming, but you started to feel yourself developing feelings for your old friend. At first you brushed it off, telling yourself that it was just platonic love. You loved hanging out with Leah, you always had. Upon some reflection though, you started to realise that your feelings were deeper than friendly affection. Every moment with Leah started to carry a new weight. You began to replay every conversation and every touch over and over in your head, dreaming that she would admit she was also harbouring hidden feelings for you.

One night while away on international duties you were rooming with Leah, as you had since you were in U17's together, and after a day of training and team dinner you had sat down on the end of Leah's bed. You decided it was time to tell her. With your heart in your throat, you tried to suppress your anxiety and mumbled your way through a romantic confession. She had laughed at first when you told her, then opened her arms.

"Come here," she told you.

As the two of you embraced she said, "You know, I've been meaning to tell you the same thing."

"Really?" You looked at her, not quite believing it.

"Yeah, but I was too bloody scared, I'm glad you're braver than I am," she said.

You two had spent the rest of the night talking about realising you had feelings for each other, and giggling about how you had both been so scared to act on it. The conversation was sealed with a kiss that made you both wonder what had taken you both so long to get to this point.

While you were ecstatic about having your feelings reciprocated, both of you were nervous to break the news to the girls that you played with. Within teams there is a very unique dynamic that everyone settles into, and you didn't want to do anything to disrupt that. Both of you were also very individual players, and you didn't want your relationship to become a defining part of your football. This was something you both agreed on, as you both felt your relationships with teammates in the past had influenced your play on the field more than you would have liked. Especially once people in the public knew about it.

So you and Leah decided that you would keep it between the two of you for the time being, until you were both 100% ready for it to become a public thing. However, the development in your relationship didn't fly under the radar in the way that you both had hoped it would.

There were whispers among your teammates, people noticing the lingering touches between you and Leah, and the way you looked at each other with such love and adoration every time one of you were speaking. You both were glowing, and the girls knew you too well. People online too had started speculating purely based on some brief interactions you guys had on the pitch.

It all came out one night when a handful of the Arsenal girls were around at Kim Little's house for some dinner and drinks. Leah found it hard to contain her loving touches, letting her hand rest on your leg when you guys were on the lounge, or rubbing circles into your back as you stood around the kitchen counter chatting.

Pizzas were spread out across the dining table for everyone to help themselves to. You grabbed two plates, making up one for yourself and one for Leah. She was speaking with Jen in the backyard when you carried it out to her.

"Here, Lee," you hand it to her and she took it from you with one hand, allowing her other hand to pull you into her side so she could kiss your forehead.

"Thanks baby," Leah said, your heart swelling at the unexpected display of affection.

Your eyes shoot to Jen's face, noting the smirk, and the realisation dawning upon her.

"Oh, are you two...?" Jen asked immediately, knowing what was going on.

You looked at Leah, shaking your head, knowing you couldn't keep it a secret any longer. She nods, and you nod, and you both look back at Jen.

"Yeah," You both say, affirming everyone's suspicions.

"God, Beth was trying to say that there was something going on, but I was saying nah nah, if there was they'd tell us," Jen said, scoffing.

"Bloody Beth, she knows us too well," you say a bit too loudly, alerting the girls inside the house to your conversation.

"You called?" Beth says.

"You knew about this," you says, motioning between you and Leah.

"Oh!" Beth says, seeming caught of guard, "So this is a thing then?"

Leah chuckles, unconsciously letting her arm snake around your waist, "Yeah mate."

"Oh my god," Beth exclaims, sheer joy spreading across her face, "My sweeties, I've been waiting for this."

"What have you been waiting for?" Steph asks, stepping into the conversation.

"Cats out of the bag then," you say, laughing.

"What are we talking about?" Kim calls from across the room.

"Okay, since everyone would like to know," Leah says, raising her voice to invite everyone into your conversation, "Y/N and I are together, we have been for a couple of months."

"Hey, I told you!" Steph says, turning back to point at Kim.

"You love birds were so obvious, why'd it take you so long to tell us?" Beth asks.

You and Leah both look at each other, suddenly unsure of how to answer that question. It all seems redundant now.

"We didn't want it to change anything," you explain.

"You worry worts, as if this would change a thing!" Beth tells you both.

"Thanks Bethany," Leah smiles.

"You guys are perfect for each other, we've all been saying it for ages," Steph says, making everyone laugh.

"It's true, you know," Kim adds in her two cents.

"Thanks guys, sorry we didn't tell you," you say.

"Don't be sorry, we're just happy for ya," Jen says, wrapping her arms around both you and Leah.

"Alright, alright, this is getting sappy. Why don't we sit down and eat," Leah suggests.

"Please," you agree, desperate to have the attention off of you.

The girls all agree too, and you move inside, finding seats on the lounge and on the floor as you dig into the pizza. As everyone is distracted by the food and the game on the telly, Leah leans into you.

"I'm glad we told them," she says.

"Me too," you say, and now that you can kiss Leah without any inhibitions, you do.

You can feel the room fall into silence as you do so before Jen says, "That'll take some getting used to."

"Better get used to it quick Jenny," Leah says, kissing you again, and then planting several kisses all over your face for good measure.

[serverusslaype]

The Yule Ball, pt. 1

Severus Snape x professor!reader

omg wow two posts in one day? who am i?

i also wanted to post this because i asked about it a while ago lmao, but i'm going to split it into two parts and finish the end of the second part tomorrow after work, it's mostly done, i just need to tidy it up hehe. this isn't very long, however, in part two, it gets good of course. pls don't hate me :( </3

i hope you are all doing well!! :)

warnings: slight harassment? ew, karkaroff

The atmosphere in the Great Hall was sparkling and lively as loud laughter and chatter filled the wintry and festively decorated room. Several large round tables were dotted around the sides of it, laden with beautiful white centrepieces and matching silver cutlery and glittering glassware. Long, blue-grey curtains adorned with artifical snow hung from the walls between the majestic and mythical stone statues, as if imitating frozen waterfalls. A warm and fuzzy feeling settled in your body as you glanced around the gorgeously decorated Hall, a small smile finding your cherry-red painted lips. 

You sat alone at a table in a silky, backless, long-sleeved dress with only a goblet of wine for company as you watched students and teachers alike dance joyously on the floor to a melodious tune. You had to bite back an amused grin as your eyes caught sight of Hagrid's hand slipping down to Madame Maxine's rear. She quickly swatted it away, and you couldn't help but chuckle quietly to yourself. Ever since the international schools arrived at Hogwarts, Hagrid seemed to be smitten with the enormous witch, and you could see why. Madame Maxine was stunning and classy; always dressed in the finest attire you could ever imagine - and of course, always carried herself with elegance. You envied her slightly as you watched the pair sway sweetly together.

Speaking of the international schools, a certain Headmaster had taken a liking to you during their stay and Hogwarts, and it didn't please you at all. In fact, it made you rather uncomfortable. Well, he made you uncomfortable. You shivered slightly at the thought of Igor Karkaroff and lifted your goblet of wine to your lips, downing the rest of it carelessly. You'd been avoiding him all night, and you hoped you wouldn't have to speak to him for the rest of it. 

As you placed the goblet back down, you glanced around, catching sight of Minerva stood to the right of Dumbledore and Snape who were currently observing the dancing students. Though you were looking at the older witch, your eyes were magnetically pulled to the wizard dressed in all black - surprisingly without his signature cloak.

Professor Snape.

You'd spoken to him a few times, but not many - he wasn't the most welcoming man you'd met. In fact, he was rather cold and short with you, which wasn't too unsurprising since he'd taught you back in the day when you attended Hogwarts as a student. So, you knew exactly what he was like. In those days, despite his harsh and cruel attitude towards you and your classmates, you developed a silly little crush on him. You weren't exactly sure why - perhaps it was the mysterious aura that he possessed, or his deep, sultry and silky voice he spoke with, or maybe it was just the plain simple fact that he was... attractive to you. Gods, your classmates would have disowned you, had you admitted such a thing.

Regardless of your history here, being the youngest professor here was a little intimidating to say the least, and the need to prove yourself was overwhelming. At times, you felt as if you didn't deserve your post as the professor of Astronomy - how could a twenty-something-year-old be qualified enough to teach students less than ten years their junior? Doubting yourself was bound to happen, especially in the presence of such talented, wise wizards like Dumbledore, Flitwick and McGonagall - Flitwick was a duelling champion, for goodness sake. And what were you? Merely infatuated with the nightsky and everything that possibly dwells beyond it? Merlin.

A deflated sigh swiftly fell from your lips as you quickly stood up from your seat, beginning to reluctantly head over in the direction of your fellow colleagues. It's not like you didn't want to stand with them, you just felt awfully out of place, and you didn't want to look weird by sitting all by your lonesome all night. Being the new person at the new job was never fun.

As you neared them, your eyes were drawn to the gloomy Potions Master again. As if he could sense someone watching him, his deep black eyes flicked to you, and you quickly glanced away with burning cheeks, walking forwards to stop beside Minerva. Maybe your crush never went away, and you winced slightly at the thought.

Turning to Minerva, she looked at you with happy eyes, a smile gracing her lips. "Y/N," Minerva beamed, her shoulders relaxing in a cheerful manner, "we'd wondered where you'd disappeared off to."

You hummed happily at her words, your stiff body relaxing slightly. McGonagall had been your favourite professor when you'd studied at Hogwarts, even though you didn't exactly excel in her class of Transfiguration. She never berated you for your lack of skill in the subject and that was probably what solidified your preference.

You looked at the witch beside you, though a silhouette of a prominent nose and a mop of black hair clouded your vision. "Just needed a sit down, really." You replied with a soft voice, smiling as you linked your fingers together in front of your waist. "Also, I fancied some more wine, it's rather moreish." Minerva and Dumbledore chuckled at your light-hearted joke, but Snape did not. You swallowed awkwardly.

"Perhaps it isn't wise to be drinking in the presence of students, Professor L/N." Snape drawled in a demeaning tone from beside Dumbledore, side-eyeing you.

"What makes you think I'm going to get drunk?" You frowned, his subtle dig at you twisting your insides. Crush or not, he was getting under your skin.

Snape snorted slightly, "A history of misbehaviour at Hogwarts doesn't bode well." He said, turning his head to face you. You fought the itching urge to roll your eyes at his words, remembering that one time you had pranked his class.

"That was one time, Snape." You sighed, fighting hard not to groan. Apparently, he wasn't going to let this go. "And it was years ago now."

"I wouldn't want to take any chances." He sneered at you, and your stomach twisted horribly. Did he really despise you that much? It hurt to say the least, you thought he would've put that in the past and moved on, but apparently grudges are the next best thing.

"Right." You huffed quietly, and Minerva cast an awkward glance to Dumbledore who also looked rather uncomfortable. Yes, this was a terrible idea coming to stand with your colleagues. A fucking terrible idea. Snape always had to make you look childish. Suddenly, you pathetically wished that Karkaroff would suddenly appear and bother you so you wouldn't have to deal with this awful interaction. Anything would be better than this right now.

As if on cue, someone called your name. "Would you excuse me?" You sighed, casting an apologetic smile towards Dumbledore and McGonagall, purposefully ignoring Snape. Dumbledore also excused himself, leaving only the Heads of Slythering and Gryffindor together.

As you and Dumbledore walked off, Minerva turned to Snape with scornful eyes. "You shouldn't be so harsh on her, Severus," she huffed, "she's not a child anymore. Y/N is an adult, capable of making adult decisions. There's no need for such hostility." 

Snape didn't reply, he only sighed heavily at Minerva's comment, prompting the older witch to roll her eyes at his petty behaviour. Though, underneath his cold and dismissive attitude towards you, there was something else. Something he did not want to unfold, nor understand. It wasn't a familiar feeling, and that was what worried him. And so, each time you spoke to him or looked at him, he had chosen to push that feeling away by being malicious to you. Snape wasn't fond of it, and he did resent himself slightly by acting so horribly towards you. Something inside of him tugged at his heart each time your face fell due to his sharp words, or the way he'd glare at you whenever you looked at him. It was the only thing he knew. Snape wasn't familiar with nor welcoming to feelings other than hatred or disdain.

The Potions Master cast his eyes over the crowds of students, absent-mindedly looking for your small figure. It's not like he wanted to check on you, he just wanted to see who had called for you, out of... curiosity. And there you were, chatting with the Weasley twins. Snape couldn't remember your exact age, but he was sure you were mid-twenties, perhaps early-twenties. Your youthful face and essence said so. As he observed you, his chest burned unusually as you laughed at something the twins had said, and it burned even hotter when he saw them hand you something. What were they doing?

"It's just a little something," Fred grinned goofily in his tuxedo as you held a small, neatly-wrapped box in your hands. It was a pale red, with a shining green bow. You looked up at them and smiled gratefully.

"Yeah, we just wanted to say thanks for being a brilliant teacher," George added after his brother, making you grin amused. The two of them always made you laugh in your classes, it was like they were the same person from how well they bounced off of each other.

"Oh, thank you, boys," you grinned, a little shocked at their kindness, "you didn't need to get me anything." Both Fred and George grinned together, their fluffy ginger hair bouncing a tad as they glanced at each other.

"You're our favourite, you know," George said, and Fred nodded with him, beaming. You chuckled at their silly smiles.

"Yeah, you're a thousand times better than any of the other professors," Fred agreed cheerfully, folding his arms against his chest.

"Especially Snape-" George interjected. Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his name.

"Yeah, he's a right old miserable git, he is." Fred grumbled, nodding behind you. "He's staring right at us, too." Your stomach dropped the second Fred said those words, and you quickly whipped your head around, your eyes meeting with Snape's own fierce ones. As quickly as you looked at him, you turned back around, your face becoming hot and pink.

"Are you blushing, professor?" George grinned wickedly, glancing at his brother who also shared that same expression.

 "No!" You answered quickly, gasping.

"Don't tell me you like that horrible arse," Fred laughed, his eyebrows shooting upwards.

"I wouldn't have expected you to fancy a Slytherin like him." George frowned, his nose turning up in slight disgust. "I mean, he hates everything and everyone, why would you-"

"I never even said I liked him! You two just assumed so!" You scoffed, folding your arms against your chest. The twins laughed at your reaction, glancing at each other. "Anyway, boys, thank you for the gift, but this conversation is over." Another hefty sigh fell from your lips as you looked between the two of them, smiling politely.

"Professor L/N," A raspy, deep voice came from behind you, and instantly, your blood went cold. You knew that thick accent very well. Fred and George Weasley looked like they were on the verge of busting out laughing. They knew of your dislike for the Durmstrang Headmaster, and you were sure that the majority of the school knew of his weird, little thing for you.

"Headmaster Karkaroff." You turned around hesitantly, fighting back a scream of utter frustration. He looked a little more groomed than usual - his messy, dark brown hair with specks of gray in it was brushed through, and his long goatee had been neatly manipulated into a sharp point. You were also surprised to see him dressed in such expensive looking clothing. The dress coat he sported was a creamy-beige, adorned with a shining black leather belt around his middle, accentuating his lanky figure.

"You look like you need a dance," The corners of his lips turned upwards into a mischievous smirk, and an uncomfortable shiver ran down your spine. "May I help with that?" Karkaroff held out his hand, and your eyes shot down towards it.

"Erm," you stuttered, "well-" You couldn't find the words at all, and it wasn't helping that you could hear the twins behind you snickering to themselves. Before you could even answer, Karkaroff had his hand grasping yours and tugging you to the dancefloor. You stumbled slightly at how fast he had pulled you, and with your other hand, you reached down to grab your skirt to hike it up so you wouldn't trip over.

As the pair of you reached the floor after winding through hoards of dancing students, Karkaroff spun you around a little too quickly, and you ungracefully fell into his chest with a squeak. "Sorry," you mumbled, using a hand to push yourself away from him, "I wasn't really expecting you to do... that."

"You know," Igor chuckled, ignoring your previous comments, "I've been waiting for this moment ever since I arrived here at Hogwarts." He admitted with a wicked smirk, allowing his rough, bony fingers to slide down your bare back, gripping you a little too tightly for your liking.

"...To dance?" You frowned, using your free hand to fidget with his hand that laid flat against your bare back, silently telling him to ease off a little. "Don't be silly." You chuckled awkwardly, casting a glance over to where you had previously stood with the other teachers as you and Karkaroff swayed. Only Snape remained, and your face grew as hot as a firepit as you noticed his eyes were already stuck on you. His face was the usual unhappy, scornful, sour frown.

"Oh, but I am not being silly, little bird." Igor murmured, pushing his face closer to yours. Instinctively, you pulled your head away from his, scrunching your nose up at the awful pet name.

"Little bird?" You repeated, almost choking the words out. You squirmed within his uncomfy grip, casting another glance to Snape, hoping that he'd have just an ounce of human decency to realise that you were asking for help. Surely, he wouldn't be that much of an arsehole to ignore the sign of a colleague in trouble.

"Yes," Igor smiled, making your skin crawl. "You remind me of a little bird - tiny, beautiful..." Your eyes widened at his words, and again, you glanced to where you had seen Snape. Your heart dropped like a rock as you noticed the empty space where he had previously stood. You knew he was a dick, but not so much of a dick to let you get taken hostage by a man you hardly knew - and didn't want to know. "So beautiful... why don't we ditch this party and head back to my quarters? I could show you around." Karkaroff muttered and pulled you even closer, grinning lecherously as he brushed his nose against the crook of your neck. Your breath hitched - but not in a good way.

"Igor..." Your voice was shaky, yet low, indicating that you weren't comfortable at all.

"How about we go somewhere more private?" Karkaroff's hands tightened even more as they slipped down to your hips, pulling your body flush against his. A quiet gasp left your lips as you pressed your palms flat against his chest, attempting to push him off of you. Your eyes flicked to where Snape once stood again, but he was no-where to be seen.

"Something caught your eye, pilentse?" Karkaroff hummed lowly, his eyes narrowing, evidently upset that your attention is busied with something or someone else.

"No." You quickly replied - almost too quickly. "I just need a refreshment, do you mind?" You forced yourself to glance up at Karkaroff's intense, wrinkled eyes.

"Oh, no, that can wait. I've waited almost the whole night for this moment..." Igor grumbled with a sneer as his grip on you became deeper and a little tighter, as if to say you weren't leaving until he deemed it so. That was until you saw that same sneer fall from his face, replaced with what looked like fear. Instantly, your brows furrowed together into a confused frown as you noticed his eyes dart from yours to something behind you, and so you turned around, curious to see why Karkaroff looked like he was about to flee.

"Karkaroff." Snape's deep, almost threatening voice reached your ears, and immediately, your mouth went dry as your heart leaped up into it. So... he did notice you? A rush of relief filled your body and your shoulders relaxed a tad. Snape glanced down at you, his thick mop of black hair framing his pale face. The blue-white light from above highlighted his prominent, handsome features perfectly, and you felt a sense of warmth prickle your skin, pooling in your stomach. You looked away, certain that if you kept staring, he'd assume you were weird or something along those lines.

Igor swallowed thickly, his bony fingers digging into the skin of your back in fear. You winced slightly at the sharp prod, catching Snape's attention. His eyes darted down to where Karkaroff had an iron-grip on you, and his lip twitched into the beginning of a sneer as he looked back to Igor's worried eyes. "Snape," The Durmstrang Headmaster greeted the gloomy Potions Master, clearly a little afraid of him. Apparently everyone was fearful of Snape, except for a select few, you realised. "What can I help you with?" Karkaroff's thick accent had slipped slightly, his voice wavering. You had to stifle a laugh at that - how was a man like Igor Karkaroff afraid of Snape? There was definitely something that you were missing here.

"Professor L/N," Snape ignored Karkaroff and shifted his bored expression to you, though you didn't miss the venomous look that he'd shot at the Bulgarian. You were still in disbelief that Snape had answered your silent cries for help, let alone actually come to save you from Karkaroff's slimy grasp. "I believe we have some important matters to tend to." Snape said matter-of-factly, arching a brow at you expectantly. 

"Wait, what?-" You choked out with wide eyes. You'd been staring a little too hard at Snape, and so you stumbled over your words, unprepared. "Oh, right, yeah- the, erm, the... valerian root." You finished, turning a bright shade of red as Snape's brows furrowed at you in a judgemental fashion, as if to say 'seriously?'.

"Yes," Snape drawled, dragging his disappointed eyes from you to Karkaroff. You huffed quietly, embarrassed. "The valerian root." The Potion Master repeated, shooting you a glare. He held out his hand for you to take, and you reached out to grasp a hold of it, when you were suddenly tugged backwards by Karkaroff. Snape's narrowed eyes darted to the Headmaster's hand wrapped securely around your waist, his nostrils flaring in slight anger. This old, despicable man had no business holding a young witch like you in such a manner.

"That can wait, surely?" Karkaroff said, his voice low as he tucked you closer to his side. You shot a desperate glance to Snape, begging him to help you again. A frustrated breath shot out of his nostrils.

"Tragically, no." Snape quipped sarcastically, his dark eyes piercing a burning hole through Karkaroff. Snape looked furious - his body was rigid. He hadn't moved a muscle apart from his eyes to look at either you or Igor. "Professor?" He glanced to you, stretching his hand to you once more, and you took it happily, allowing him to pull you out of Karkaroff's slimy hands and to his safe side. Your cheeks flushed pink at the closeness between you two, and you kept your eyes on the ground as Snape shifted his hand to sit on the small of your back, guiding you away from Karkaroff.

Part 2! (wip) Masterpost

there is part 1, i hope you enjoyed it, and i hope it was sort of what you expected! i can't remember what i said i was going to do but this is what i came up with hehe. i'm always a sucker for jealousy.

let me know if you liked it/what you thought, i do apologise that it was kinda short, but it'll be finished tomorrow! <3

i hope you're all well! :)

[n30nwrites]

Heel (Shifter TF141 x Male! Reader)

Chapter 3 of Good Doggy.

Masterlist here

Warnings - Just some sadness. Some thought of death but nothing too in detail. Some talks of sex and mention of Mating??? But nothing too explicit. Reader is kind of a dick but I understand it, you won't for a bit though. Also Price thinks about some dark things like kidnapping/murder, along with some thoughts on noncon biting, Lowkey the boys get kind of yandere in a way but nothing too dark I think. Ghost thinks about killing you. Also internalized homophobia but enough to not even notice, Thoughts of dubious consent.

Updated: 3/5/2024

Beta Reader/Editor: The one and only @letmelickyoureyeballs

Gaz takes his first step towards hope and he now understands everything.

He understands why Soap wouldn't shut up yesterday about you. He understands why Price held that meeting. He understands why Ghost keeps staring. He understands why he had to wait.

All good things come to those who wait. And he was patient. Some god out there must have seen that and granted him you. Because even though your eyes are covered he knows that you are it for him. It hasn't been officially confirmed, but there was no way you weren't it.

He doesn't think he can handle you not being his mate.

The car door opens and a woman walks out. And you greet her with a hug and a whisper in her ear about the stares from the neighbors, which she laughs at and kisses your cheek. And Gaz pauses in his movement.

He can hear his pack’s footsteps as they stumble out the door. Their words of protest at his actions quickly came to a stop as they realized that someone had joined you.

You take off your glasses to look at them as you pull away and he can imagine a future with you. He wants to live in this neighborhood, your house or his but he knew his would be big enough for a litter of pups. He wanted to have you stay home, healthy and fat and never in danger. 

Kyle looked at you like there was something worth looking at.

He now knows that he is going to continue loving you, and that he does not see a future when you will eventually pass on as all humans do. You are too gorgeous to be real, exactly what he waited for all this time and he does not regret it all.

You can't help but question your neighbors. There's four of them, as it turns out. All in black which you would judge if you weren't doing the same. Maya follows your gaze and you know that their attention must be on her.

She's beautiful, and you aren't insecure of yourself in a way, but even you had feelings for her at one point. Her left arm is a metal prosthetic, one that was forged by a family friend. She stands tall and proud and it makes you feel more confident. 

"Can I help you gentlemen?" She understands society's norms. She's polite with a possible killer, she bares her teeth showing a smile that is wide and almost innocent to falsely secure these men in front of her. She was a killer in disguise. Prepared at all times.

"Just greeting the new neighbors." Kyle says and the other three come next to him. They are in your yard, something that makes you uncomfortable.

"You greet differently than your friends." You comment, glancing at Soap and Ghost. "Still seem to have a staring problem." You lower your sunglasses more trying to ignore the harsh light. You make eye contact with each of them and your chest aches at it. "This is my partner-"

"Maya." She interrupts, taking the attention away from you. "You gentlemen mind helping us move our stuff in." And you glare at her, not that you cared for their help, you didn't like people touching your stuff nor did you like strangers being in your space. She was the opposite, she didn’t care if people entered her house. You guessed that now you had to share a living space with her, you’d have to get over it at some point. They step closer to agree.

"Really gonna invite some strangers to help?" You say loudly, knowing that they heard because you didn't care to hide the dislike. 

"I don't wanna carry these boxes darling..." She drags out the word, "Plus you need to rest for work tonight." Your shift lasts from 10 pm to 6 am. "Don't want you to tire yourself out."

She puts on a caring layer. You trust her but you don't like this form of parenting she's trying to do with you. 

"I'm not leaving them with our stuff. Go get the boys set up." You tell her as you head to the back of the trunk and open it. Maya opens the side door, grabbing two animal carriers. You can hear your dog barking, Maya’s cat was probably sleeping. The car smells of sulfur and you twitch your nose, adjusting your face mask. "You can go back to your house." You say to them right as Maya goes inside.

"We said we'd help, might as well." You weren't expecting the accent to come from the stalker with the mohawk. "I'm Soap." Soap, it was a strange nickname. "That's Ghost." He points to the stalker with the mask. 

Soap and Ghost. Your two witnesses to your moving in. The men who just stared.

They look familiar.

"I'm Kyle." He's hot. You're staring at him, fully aware of that. They're all hot. He holds out his hand and you shake it, not immediately repulsing at the touch which was strange. You say your name. "That's Price." He points to John.

"John Price..." You say his name aloud, "And here I thought you were just John." You told him, grabbing a box of books and shoving it into Kyle's arms. "Living room, next to the built-in bookcase by the sun nook."

You kept shoving the boxes into their arms, anxious every time you couldn't see one of them. Out of all four of them, Ghost made you the most uncomfortable. He wouldn't stop staring. And you told him as much when it came to an end.

"Do you stare because you plan to kill me or simply because you have issues?" Maya had insisted you'd walk them to their house despite it being right across from yours. She said it was the polite thing to do, and you told her that it was bullshit but you weren't going to argue against her and waste your energy on it. Ghost was the last to walk onto the porch, still not blinking. "If you are going to kill me, you will fail."

"Why did you move here?" He asks, and they are all staring.

"Learn to blink." You tell him, "You do not need to know why I am here. We are not friends, we are not gonna be friends, Maya is nice to you because she thinks you are attractive and I can see where it is coming from, but this thing you are doing, talking and trying to help out and telling me your nicknames."

You pause as you stare at Kyle's eyes.

"It's useless. I want nothing to do with you."

And Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick breaks inside.

"You are being too cruel to them," Maya says as you close the door. The house is soundproof, she made sure of it. She knows they can hear the conversation if they wanted to, which is why she had blocked off any possible sound to escape.

"How? They are being a nuisance-"

"They are men who found their mate. I've seen worse reactions when soulmates meet, surprised they haven't hugged you at all." Maya manipulates her fingers in the air as if she’s plucking a string, and she probably is through her eyes. Maya had always had a gift to see the bond between others, The Strings of Fate, a curse Zeus put on everyone eons ago. Theseus escaped the Minotaur with his thread that connected him to Ariadne, and it seemed Clotho had it in for you. It used to be that everyone could see their own String of Fate, until a few centuries ago when an argument broke out amongst the Gods. Now only a certain few could, and Maya was one of them. 

"If they did I would cut their cocks off." You cringe at the idea of touch. "I do not understand why you are defending them-"

"Because you are being an asshole!" Maya shouts and you turn away, rubbing at your nose as you let out a sigh.

"I understand why they are acting the way they are." Kyle's and Soap's puppy dog eyes almost broke you, they were too handsome. "But you understand why I am like this. It is better to tell them upfront is it not?"

"You haven't even given them a chance-"

"I am not leading them on. I am not manipulating them like I could. I do not want anything to do with them and you know that that is for the best." She says your name to stop you, and you're confused by it.

Why can't she admit to herself the truth? It happened to you just a couple of years ago and you were already over it, but yet she couldn't be?

"Maya," You look at her, "I do not have a soul. I can not feel what they feel. It is impossible for me to have soulmates."

It's confusing. When everything you thought you know changes. How a simple moment becomes so complicated. It's happened to Gaz a few times in his life, where he's had to change everything he's thought and adapt to the new.

You were supposed to be a woman.

He was supposed to be straight.

He never thought about people in a romantic sense. Sex was one thing, it's a way to release emotions and it's something fun. You didn't have to have an emotional tie with someone for it. But dating was separate. You had to let people in for that, to let them know the ugly parts of you and trust that they won't run.

You weren't supposed to run.

Gaz leaves first. He's the first to stop staring at the air, going into his room and immediately undressing. His mind is blank, running on instincts. The minute he’s done, he’s out the backdoor shifting. 

The pain of his bones breaking quickly disappears, but he welcomes it despite how little it was. He grows paws and fur all over his body, and goes back to his basic instincts.

He's gone for hours.

Price is the last to move. He's angry at you for everything you said, he’s half a mind to go into your house and just kidnap you.

Who were you to tell him what to do? You were a selfish human, completely unaware of everything they were willing to do for you. You had them on a leash, begging for scraps of attention that you were starving them for.

You hated him, and that made John angry. He wants to burn your house down and show you that you can't be safe without him, he wants to kill Maya, she took you from him.

From them.

He can hear the howls from Gaz and he grabs a bottle of Scotch from the cabinet. He chugs it down, it's not that hard to finish a drink, especially when you crave the burn of it. He wants to shift as well, but that would require ignoring his responsibilities. 

He wished he could show you what makes him right for you.

He just needed one night with you and he was sure he could change your mind. One bite and it was all over, you'd be stuck with him.

He lights a cigar and stays in the kitchen, quiet.

Stupid, foolish human. Weak, you were pathetic truly.

It was one thing to not like him, it was another to hurt his family.

He thinks that killing you would make it all go away. Ghost doesn't care that it would hurt him for eternity if he was to kill you, he's convinced he can do it and make his pack forget about you, whether it's with time or a witch.

He's convinced that he could get away with it. 

And then he remembers your heart beat and he can't. He knows he can't kill you. But he wishes it was that easy.

Instead of planning your demise, Ghost calls every contact he has looking for information about you. Looking for anything, and while he finds out your last name, he comes to realize that you did not exist 6 years ago.

And when he calls Laswell to question you, she insists he stops looking if he wants to stay safe.

He does not listen.

Soap thinks about every movement you make.

He convinces himself you're playing hard to get. That you like being chased after like a bunny.

His bunny, his defenseless mate who doesn’t know what was good for him.

You were ignorant, it was okay.

He could help you.

"Ah will protect ye mate. Yer mines bun." 

------

NEXT

Okay so maybe I wrote a bit longer. And yeah maybe the boys do seem out of character but literally they will not be like this long, it is just the idea that losing half of your soul makes you mad.

This is just chapter 3 and it's heavy with angst ig?? Um next chapter will definitely be lighter, and so will chapter 5. But hey I guess it's your decision to stick around for that long.

Also maya looks like Salma Hayek because that is a beautiful woman.

And I am not sure how to write Soap's dialect?? I'm trying my best I swear.

Also please leave comments and reblog, more interaction means more interest and I'll probably continue to write it.

[holly-opal]

Prompt: Some random kid (Reader) finds Mr Puzzles' head and repairs it, pretty much causing him to become their adoptive dad (since their og dad left)

(This is platonic, of course)

You pulled the red wagon carrying the broken TV to your little cabin. It was just a regular day for you, walking around seeing if you can find something useful like food, tools, some baby wipes for showering, and maybe even some lost toys or technology that could use some fixing. Looks like today day is your lucky day. Just kidding, that day will be when you actually get parents. Since your real ones abandoned you and left you to die in the slums. You carried the TV to the table and let out a hefty sigh. Goddamn that TV was heavy. You examined the TV carefully, it looks like there are no internal damages, only the screen needs fixing. Thankfully, you had just the fix! With a little bit of glass and super glue, you can fix it. You carefully put the shards of glass in, put in a nice dash of glue, and- "OUCH!" You yelled out as you felt harsh stinging in your palm. You cut yourself. Tears weld up in your eyes as you went to get the bandages, you quickly put one on you and went back to work. And you were done! Sure you got a few cuts and put a little too much super glue, but at least it works! You picked up the TV and put it down onto the floor, you sat down and started flipping through the channels. You found a nice kids channel and began watching it. You were smiling and laughing all the way, it made you forget how miserable you were, living scrap by scrap, going to bed hungry every night, anf always worrying someone will try to steal your things or hurt you.

As you were watching tho, the TV suddenly turned into static, you groaned and tried to hit the TV to get it to work. It didn't really work. You almost got up to fetch your tools, but then you heard... Crunching noises. Squishy, gooey, crunching noises. You looked at the TV and saw that it was sprouting arms, legs, a torso, an entire body. It was tall as hell, taller than any adult you have seen. The TV stopped playing static and was replaced with a face, a wide colorful smile and crazy eyes. You screamed and ran out of the room. You went into the small bedroom and went into your cot, you hid under your blanket and hugged your teddy bear tightly. You were shaking and whimpering, you shut your eyes, hoping that it won't see you and will go away. Suddenly, you were picked up by someone and you screamed, you kicked and wiggled, but it was no use. The TV man was looking at you, his eye brow raised.

"Now now, is that any way to treat your guest? Running and screaming?" He asked you. You gulped and shook your head, he laughed and set you down onto the ground. You backed away from him in fear. The TV man put his hands on his hips and looked around. "Where is the engineer that fixed me? I want to thank them!" He asked. You called down a bit, maybe if you tell him that you were the one who fixed him, he'll be grateful and not eat you alive. You pointed at yourself. "U-Um... I fixed you actually..." You said timidly. He frowned, he cocked his head at you in confusion, you internally prayed you didn't make him mad. He scoffed and walked out of your room, you followed him out. He was looking around the cabin, it was very small, and it didn't have many things in it. He seemed disgusted at the sight of your house. "Where are your parents? There is no way a child could fix a TV by themselves. And this place is awful! This is no place for a little kid!" He asked. You rubbed your arm in silence, looked away from him, remembering how your parents left you in the dumpster when you were only three years old. You had someone to take care of you, but they left you too. Nobody seemed to like being around you. They always seemed to leave you behind like a discarded doll. Something clicked in him, and he understood everything. You were an orphan.

"I.... I see..." He said with a sad tone. You went up to him and hugged his legs, you didn't mean to make him sad. He patted your head and smiled, and crouched down to your level and gave you a big, wide smile. "My name is Mr. Puzzles. And you, my dear?" He asked. You smiled back, you shrugged. That seemed to strike a nerve with Mr. Puzzles. They didn't even bother to name you? He pinched your cheek in a loving manner and picked you up, he cradled you in his long ass arms. "Well you simply must have a name! Hmmm... Which name, which name... Oh! How about Y/N?" He asked you. You nodded your head and clapped in excitement, you always wanted a name, but you could never think of one. He laughed and spun you around in a circle. He put your down and crossed his arms. "You could come with me to my studio! You wouldn't have to live here much longer, because no offense, but this place is very dirty and broken." He said. You nodded in agreement. The house was very bad. You only stayed because it gave you shelter from the rain. You grabbed your bag and started putting your stuff in it. Your tools, teddy bear, clothes, trinkets you made, etc. Once you were done packing, he picked you up and put you on his shoulders. You giggled and held his head for stability. You got a new home! And a new parental figure! This really IS your lucky day!