#hype-hype-ting

[madhyanas]

love not being on twitter and otherwise not keeping in touch w popular opinion bc as far as im concerned if my mutuals and i don’t like a show. it’s dogshit

[shithowdy]

i'm turning off reblogs for this post because everyone has collectively decided to piss on the poor and ignore my emphasis on this being about so-called original settings and instead made the post almost exclusively about rwby fix-it fics

if your "original story/rpg" idea is rooted in the premise of "what if [existing franchise] was good?" then just start over. i am not kidding. your ego is like insulation spray foam being inserted into the cracks of the premise-- sure it fills the gaps, but it's beyond ugly and everyone can see it.

[amourcheol]

🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️I NEED MY NAME ON THAT TAGLIST [pls thanks]

FUCKKKKKKKK on it 🫡🫡🫡

[leeechin]

(ꗃ) dangling charms [nerd sunghoon] ! (mdni)

⋆ in which you test the limits of the cute quiet dork that sat nearby you and your friend during lunch. but what you didn't expect, was to see a whole new side of this quiet dork, in his bed.

⌗ warnings & content: college au! sunghoon and jay are such losers in this oh my god. but i love it. nerd!sunghoon x fem!reader, backshots hehehe, protected sex (cheering) bigdick!hoon, oral (m.rec), fingering, praise, dom!hoon, etc. a lot of kaomojis when reader texts hoon, deal with it lol. early 2010s kind of au as well.

(lee's note: on that nerd sunghoon agenda :p i skimmed through this, not throughly proofread so lmk if you see any errors :D hope u guys enjoy i'm nerv abt this one.) reqs r open don't be afraid !! just read my guidelines first :3

word count: 3.0k

★ masterlist | post queue

"i love you y/n, but i don't think it is genuinely possible to even get him within the same vicinity of you that is not on campus.." gaeul comments, taking a sip of her drink.

you sigh in response, not bothering to hide the fact that you're eyeing park sunghoon, the cute quiet nerd you sat a couple seats away in your econ class. also, a couple tables away where you and gaeul were sitting at in the campus' dining hall. "what if i just asked him to tutor me—? it would benefit me and get me close to him."

"do you realize how crazy you sound right now?!" gaeul chokes, voice a little too loud causing the surrounding tables by the two of you to give a look.

"then i'm insane because i'm gonna ask him to tutor me right now—!" you exclaim, grabbing a piece of gum from the pack that was on the table, unwrapping the foil and popping it into your mouth. gaeul hypes you up, giving you a small applause in which you both giggle.

approaching his table, you felt a nervous tinge in your chest, choosing to ignore that feeling, you strut with confidence, stopping until you're standing directly in front of sunghoon. he looks up with an eyebrow raised, shutting off his laptop that he was doing an assignment on. "can i help you—?" loud smacks of you chewing the gum obnoxiously filled the awkward silence between the two of you, but you smile at him. "park sunghoon right?"

he nods, face still filled with confusion as to why such a pretty girl is at the table he occupied by himself on most days. "you have the best marks in our econ class.. and i was wondering if you could help me revise this paper i failed in that class.." you sheepishly asked, hand scratching the side of your head as you await a response.

"sure i can." sunghoon's response is short and quick, tapping his ipod that was connected with his wired headphones on his lap, waiting for you to say something. "great—! you should write your contact information for me down!" you beam. pulling out of your arm bag a mini notepad and pen, handing it to sunghoon. he takes a quick look at the character charm that dangled on a beaded string on your pen, laughing to himself in his head at how cute and amusing you were. carefully examining what he wrote before handing it back to you, sunghoon gives a small smile in return as well.

you thank sunghoon and practically skip back to your table, gaeul looking in shock as you hold up the once empty page of your notepad, filled with his contact info.

sunghoon's enjoying a peaceful dinner with his roommate when he hears a ding! from his phone. "this is the first time i've ever heard your phone during dinner." jongseong comments, stuffing his mouth full of instant ramen. "it's probably a scam or—" sunghoon remembers you asking him to tutor you. he scrambles to grab his phone, flipping it open to read your message.

"surely a scammer alright." jongseong sarcastically retorts. "shut up jay!" sunghoon yells flustered, reading the strings of messages you left to him.

(xxx) (xxx) (xxxx):

heyyyy :p it's y/n :3

turned out the deadline professor jung gave me to revise this paper in a few days (¬_¬)

soooo i was wondering if we could meet up in a couple hours ^_^ or we could do tmr cuz it’s a weekend and ur probably free ♪( ´θ｀)ノ

—

you weren't wrong.. but ouch that kinda gave sunghoon a realization that he really doesn't do anything besides studying 24/7 and being a dork with jongseong.

"no way.. you're texting a girl—!" jongseong gapes, peeking over sunghoon shoulder's to read his inbox.

"god we really are such womanless losers." sunghoon shakes his head, clicking his keyboard to respond to you.

—

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅) your pov ⋆ ࣪.

[hoonie ! ٩( ᐛ )و_^]

Hello Y/n

Yes. I could meet with you in a couple of hours

Your place or mine?

[you]

my roommates have company over (-.-;)y-~~~

is ur place okay ?? :D

[hoonie ! ٩( ᐛ )و_^]

Yeah, that's fine with me

My roommate is home too, but don't worry, Jongseong is very quiet

My address is: ________ 8:00 just to confirm with you.

[you]

yayyyyy ok (^｡^) c u in a couple !

thx hoonie once again !! i rlly owe u 4 this (*´∀｀*)

—

you're kicking your feet up and down after confirming your plans with sunghoon, flipping your phone shut. you call for gaeul outside of the hall to tell her the news and to help you pick a outfit.. hopefully not overdoing it.

touching up your lipgloss and twirling yourself in front of your mirror to finalize your look, you're more than ready.

"don't get him too flustered y/n.. he's probably never felt the touch of a woman." gaeul warns, handing you your keys. oh how gaeul was so wrong about sunghoon..

you knock on sunghoon's door, swinging open to meet eyes with his roommate, jongseong. he stares at you in disbelief not thinking that the plans in sunghoon's inbox would actually happen. "hi! i'm y/n, is sunghoon here—?"

"no fucking way." jongseong comments, completely ignoring your question. his eyes are opened wide like saucers and all you could do it at the door step is fiddle with the bottom hem of your short pink skirt and wait.

"is she already here jay— oh. hello y/n." sunghoon sees you up close, once again. he kind of already knew you were on the way when he heard the dangling charms on your arm bag down the hall as you took your steps closer to his front door. and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't attracted to you. "hi hoonie—!" you smile over at the door frame, looking over jongseong's shoulder. god that new nickname made him want to drop at his knees.

"s—sorry! i should've let you in since i've opened the door—!" jongseong stutters. you throw your manicured hand out, brushing it off. "oh it's okay jay. do you guys have any drinks—? not alcoholic or anything." you self invite yourself to open their fridge that was in the kitchen right by their entry. "um y/n." sunghoon mumbles, "hmm—?"

"please take off your shoes.." right. feeling slightly embarrassed, you say a quick apology and kick off your shoes, leaving them on the shoe mat. "don't worry about it." sunghoon reassured. walking back into the kitchen, you examine their fridge, wow. they really had a lot of choices, and a lot of food from packaged from the local convenience store. but enough of that, you settle with a strawberry milk cart and shut the fridge door.

"sooooo where are we gonna study—?" you turn to sunghoon, sipping your drink and awaiting a response. "in my room.. jay is playing a very important match of star craft in the the living room." sheepishly rubbing his head and gesturing to jay sitting on the couch, that had his eyes glued to the tv monitor as he started the game.

"okay-!" you say, following sunghoon into his room. you notice the lack of decorations, only a couple of figurines on his shelves, mainly filled with textbooks. "you sure do have a lot of dangling charms." sunghoon comments, scanning your arm bag and your phone charm.

"is it a problem—?" your eyebrows raises, eyes following sunghoon direction to your bag. "no no no! not at all, it was just an observation—!" quick to deny with no doubt.

you grin, only seeing how long it would until sunghoon gives in to your charm.

"so for this problem you can—" you interrupt sunghoon, "can we take a break?" he blinks in response, "sorry hoon i interrupted you—" "don't worry y/n. and yeah, we can take a break." your lips stretch into a little grin, getting up from where you and sunghoon were both sitting on the end of his bed, littered with papers and textbooks.

you go to his desk where you left your bag, bending over to grab a a container of green grapes. you purposely take a long time searching your bag and giving sunghoon the view of a lifetime; your mini skirt showing your little lace panties that hugged your chubby folds. sunghoon bits his lips to suppress a groan, feeling his erection growing.

sunghoon grabs a pillow to place over his lap, in hopes of his bulge would go down. you smirk to yourself, knowing that sunghoon has had more than enough time to see what was under your miniskirt. "want a grape hoonie—?" you offer, plopping yourself beside sunghoon on the end of his bed again. sunghoon nods his head.

holding out your container for him, sunghoon grabs a small handful of grapes, the both of you guys eating in silence. and you don't know what possessed you, but after the container was emptied, you lifted the pillow that was on his lap. and there behold; his boner.

he scrambles to grab the pillow again, but you grab at his wrist with your smaller hand. god did you just the veins and how thick his digits were. "y/n i'm sorry i—" sunghoon panics to find a choice of words, lucky for him, you interrupt. "you're rock hard hoonie.. because of me?"

"mmph. fuck. yeah." sunghoon groans, seeing you climb over his lap and straddle him. "let me take care of your little problem down there for you hoonie.." you offer.

"oh my god hoonie—! right there!" you moan, body perched against his bigger frame as he's stuffed two fingers deep in your sopping cunt, your panties being hooked to the side. "clenching around my fingers so tight, fuck. i knew this was planned from the start." he grunts in response, scissoring and twisting his digits.

it was so messy. you were a crying, sobbing, mess from the pleasure of sunghoon's digits hitting you so deep, reaching places you could never with your measly little hands. and never did you expect this from sunghoon..

you expected sunghoon to be a nervous, stuttering mess, but instead he was calm and collected, the one that was in control and power of letting you cum.

sunghoon's free hand was under your low-cut baby tee, grasping at your juicy tits that spilled out of your bra, taking his hand out from underneath your shirt and tugging it off and over your head, effortlessly unhooking your bra alongside it. fat tears rolling down your cheeks, smudging your eye makeup as you feel sunghoon speed the pace of his fingers, making you see stars and have you completely ruined at his mercy. breath hitching when you feel the coil in your stomach about to snap.

"just hold it out a bit longer for me, okay—?" he coos at you, tucking the strands of hair that draped over your eyes behind your ears. "hoonie please! s' so good." you babble, hands tugging at the collar of his shirt. you stretched it out so much that his collarbone showed.

a bead of sweat trickles down your forehead when sunghoon grants you permission to let go, spongy walls spasming around his digits as you crash forward and land your face against his chest. "that's it. did so well for me." sunghoon hums in satisfaction, licking your sweet release off his fingers and rubbing the side of your hips affectionately, pulling your panties back in place. you frown at sunghoon, hoping he wasn't done.

"i still haven't taken care of your problem down there.."

shuffling off his lap on the bed, you scramble and drop down to your knees; heels of your feet hitting against the plush skin of your ass. eyes looking up to sunghoon, awaiting. "shiiit, you're so pretty." he groans, seating himself up and off the edge of his bed.

looking down at you with your begging eyes that were inviting him to ruin you. and boy were you going to have such a story for gaeul when you get back home. "hoonie.. fuck my mouth?" you ask, hand reaching down to rub at your neglected clit. and who was he to refuse you, especially when you said please. pulling down his sweatpants along with his boxers, sunghoon is much much bigger than what you initially expected.

"oh…" your jaw almost dropping, but you contain yourself to just gulping nervously. "not big enough for you—?" he teases, hand coming down to grasp his length and pump himself as he waits for you put your mouth on him. "no.. you're too fucking big hoon. you're gonna destroy me." you rasp out, watching him take his hand off himself and replacing it with your own, making sunghoon hiss at the contact. he chuckles at your response, "we'll make it fit, don't worry— fuck—!" he moans, breath hitching when you try to take as much of his inches into your mouth, choking at about halfway. you look up, pleading for him to help you out. and so he did. hand grabbing at a chunk of your hair to create a makeshift ponytail and push his hips forward with a few experimental thrusts.

you didn't show him any signs of stopping, so sunghoon continued. he lets out a long groan feeling his tip his the back of your throat, along with the sensations of your harsh sucks. you moan around his thickness at the slight of his thick framed glasses fogging up with his heavy pants. your hands that were placed on on his thighs tapping twice to let you breathe in which he immediately pulled off of you. sunghoon holds his hand out for you grab and pull you up, wiping the saliva that was dribbling down the sides of your lips. "okay—?"

"s' okay." you giggled reassuringly, sunghoon smiles and places a kiss on your lips, and you could taste yourself from your previous orgasm from earlier against him. "think you can handle more..?" sunghoon asks with an eyebrow raised. "yeah. i want you to fuck me." you shrug, pushing him backwards so that he sat on his bed, initiating that you were gonna ride him, but no no no.

sunghoon manhandles you until your flat on your stomach. flipping your already hiked skirt up, not making much of a difference, kneading at the soft flesh of your pantie clad ass as you arch your back, wiggling yourself back at him for more. "so wet for me jesus." he grunts, pulling your now ruined paired down and over your ankles, tossing it somewhere in his room. he pulls his own shirt over his head and you oogle at his toned body, sunghoon laughs at your expression.

"only for you hoon. please. wanna feel your big dick inside me pleasepleaseplease." you beg, pushing your ass back to him in hopes he wouldn't make you wait any longer. sunghoon didn't, you look over your shoulder to see him reach over his nightstand to grab a condom, taking it out of the wrapper and placing it over him, giving a few experimental tugs before aligning the tip with your entrance. breath ragging as you feel him push in slowly, sunghoon groans alongside with your heavy breaths, the feeling of your walls gripping him so tightly.

if this was what heaven was like, sunghoon wouldn’t ever want to leave that place.

pulling out until only his tip was left in you and plunging forward again, sunghoon finds a pace that has you screaming his name like your life depended on it. "ngh—! hoonie harder—!" you shriek, making sunghoon remember that jongseong was still in the apartment and could probably hear what the two of you have been doing. pushing your head into his pillows, he grunts, speeding up the pace of his thrusts that made pleasure seep throughout your whole body.

"god y/n. your pussy feels so fucking good." sunghoon whispers, the room filling with nothing but the slapping sounds of his hips clashing against your ass. you moan into the pillow sheets, gripping his length like a vice and sunghoon wonders if he could ever feel you around him one day without a condom in the way. his hands grip your hips so hard that you know would leave a mark.

"gonna cum hoon. i need to cum hoonie please." you whimper as you lift your head up from his pillows, sunghoon groans again, his deep strokes hitting every right spot in your body. "let go for me y/n." he says, your body gives out, your whole upper half crashing against the soft material of his mattress as you coat his condom covered dick in your creamy white substance. sunghoon stills his movements, finishing inside the condom before pulling out. taking it off of him and twisting it before tossing it in the mini trash can by his bed.

putting his boxers back on and laying himself beside you. pulling you into an embrace as he put his tshirt over your body. the room is no longer filled with a sexual atmosphere, a piercing silence filling the air.

"we didn't fully revise your paper.." sunghoon speaks up, your head resting against his panting chest. you let out a loud laugh, playfully swatting at his shoulder, "god hoon! you just fucked the living life out of me and your already all books and brains again!" "sorry sorry." he chuckles.

"mm it's okay we can revise it tomorrow." you murmur. "after you let me take you out on a date—?" you nod and place a kiss on his lips in agreement.

"you know sunghoon.. i really didn't expect you'd have it in you.." you whisper, eyes half lidded. "what? you thought i was a whimpering virgin who's never felt the touch of a woman—?"

"that's exactly what i thought."

[nimomo-mo]

Vent

[craziestfangirl98]

Why does this sound like the Yuan enjoying Qian finding out about San Pang and Wei Lili being together from Unknown.

imagine when Toi Ting grows up and someone asks her out at school, and Jack’s reaction is just like w h a t meanwhile Joke is enjoying all of this

[desifugo]

i just wanna be the asian ting in a lehenga so i look 10x lenger is that too much to ask

[caitlinbueckers]

told you so.

kate martin x reader

2.9k

woooooh this is a fucking doozy guys. literally received one (1) anon and then i blacked out for an hour and a half soooo here’s this ! realized during this journey that kate martin means an unfathomable amount to me and it’s like . Actually concerning 🔥🔥

ANYWAYS it’s giving Kate martin’s controversially hidden girlfriend that goes lowk public at the wnba draft like SHUT UP

18+ AS FUCK

“babe, quit looking at me like that.”

if there’s one thing you know, above the fact that you were certain there was gonna be an unsuspected draft tonight, was that kate martin could be such a bitch in the morning.

not that this was new for you, in any sense— you’d been more than used to it since the dawn of your relationship, learning all the little things about her that made her tick. whether that was her favorite to least favorite foods, or teams, even her obsession with fucking hot sauce.

you knew she still slept with her childhood blankie, the one currently curled under her chin atop the hotel comforter because she’s ridiculous, and because nobody has ever and would ever disrespect her blankie game.

and above all, you knew how much she wasn’t a morning person.

“you’re so dramatic,” you snort, pushing yourself up onto your elbows with a tired, but mocking voice as she emits a slow groan, turning to shove her face into the pillow, her body curling away from yours in an act of indignance that only makes you laugh.

you were far too used to her acting like a baby, so the action only made you sit up on your knees, slinging a leg over her so you could straddle her sides, leaning down to pepper kisses against the side of her face as she lets out a string of groans that turn into halfhearted chuckles, until her hands are planted firmly against your thighs, bare due to the oversized IOWA shirt that she insisted on you wearing.

‘for good luck,’ you remembered her snickering, something you knew was really just ‘easy access’.

her voice is still hoarse from sleep, quiet and raspy and tinged with that midwestern accent that you’ll never give up on bullying her for, when she whispers, “dude, you’re so annoying.”

of course, she proves it by hoisting you off of her, onto the bed, simulating something like a WWE smackdown moment as she rolls over onto you, mumbling something that you really can’t decipher due to her face in your neck, your chest, basically every place she knows will pull that hysterical, annoyingly high pitched laugh out of you, that for some reason, she loves.

“can’t believe you made it here.” she murmurs quietly against your cheek, lips moving lazily against the skin before she lays a smacking kiss there, and it’s almost gross, how much saliva she uses, but you snicker anyway, hand coming up to stroke through her blonde strands.

in all honesty, you couldn’t really believe it either. it had been soemthing close to hell trying to get it all straightened out, from clothes to hotels, to transportation and getting from des moines to brooklyn, not to mention just how fucking exclusive it had been to even get a seat open with all the hype surrounding women’s college basketball, the posterity that the final four teams had brought to the sport— not to mention, the fact that you and kate weren’t public in the fucking slightest, so having to account for that definitely sucked.

of course, it was a huge accomplishment, one that would definitely go down in the history of sports in general, so of course it was a huge fucking honor that your girlfriend was apart of it—

but also, you just thought it was hot.

in fact, the thought makes you smirk to yourself, corners of your mouth curling upwards in a self righteous grin as you turned your head, bumping noses with her to whisper, “can’t wait to see you all dressed up, baby,” she snickers at that, and you kiss her lips once, twice, three times before continuing, “and, i can’t wait to see where you get drafted so i can buy myself a plane ticket.”

the subsequent groan you receive is expected, but it doesn’t deter you even slightly, “and to watch you play on a professional fucking team, like, kate, i’m basically wet thinking about it right now.”

that makes her laugh out loud, and it warms you just a bit to hear it.

it’s not like kate has been super confident about it recently, usually choosing to not speak or avoid talking about how bad she wants it— especially considering the night being mainly for caitlin, an old teammate of yours from school and one of kate’s best friends on the squad, and arguably, one of the best players in the league (next to kate, of course).

still, it didn’t change your focus, or the unyielding hope you had for the possibility of kate getting drafted— no matter how late in the draft it could be.

“babe, quit selling yourself short, okay? you’re a legend. it would be literally, fucking stupid to pass you up, okay?” she doesn’t respond at first, her eyes closed and lashes brushing her cheeks, before she flutters them open just a crack, blue peeking through as you offer her a grin, one that she only rolls her eyes to, but kisses you regardless. you knew how much she hated to talk about it, but it didn’t matter.

you knew you were right, anyway.

“mmmiloveyou.” it comes out in one smushed whisper against your mouth, before you nip at her bottom lip, hand sneaking under the sports bra she wore to bed to brush your thumb across her ribcage, “get off of me and get ready, okay?”

—

caitlin was top draft pick, which was heavily speculated and yet still unexpected to a degree as you stood from your seat with a cacophony of shouts and hollers from around you, pride swelling thick in your chest. you’d known the girl since you two had been in middle school— seeing the same tall little girl that had hated losing in an elementary school gym turn into such an infamous champion was something alike to a parent watching their kid go off to college or something, you’d swear it.

but, to say it was nothing short of nervewracking would somehow be an understatement, and as much as you felt the impending pressure with each name called, you could only imagine how kate must’ve felt.

it wasn’t hard to tell— the way her molars steadily worked the inside of her cheek, the way her tongue would dart out to wet her lips again and again. her hand, jittering too much to be held stationary within your own, drumming along your bare thigh beside your dress— ‘self soothing’, she’d explained in a whisper, a halfhearted, almost weakened smile on her face when you’d given her a lifted eyebrow at the hand placement considering the amount of cameras that surrounded you, but somehow, despite the rush of adrenaline, decided you didn’t care either.

thankfully, you both weren’t anywhere too accessible, but it still made you wonder whether kate had been bullshitting just how anxious she actually had been the whole time for her to need your touch so badly, and for an aching moment of tenderness as you glance at her, you want to kiss her, hard, rub the tension between her eyebrows, relax the trouble in her eyes.

still, gabbie and jada were good eyes too, considering anytime the camera would so much as even pan past you two, jada would hit you with a solid elbow, one to remind you that your poker face was shit, and perhaps you’d have to try just a little harder to pretend you weren’t totally, irrevocably in love with the woman beside you.

but slowly, it was all starting to click into place.

the cameras began panning to kate more and more, your own eyes flickering to the set and noticing how everytime you’d look, there’d be an official looking right past you, right at kate. a surge of excitement rose within you, one that had the words bubbling from your mouth in an urgent whisper,

“baby, i think—“

until an official, dressed in black with a wireless pair of headphones in each ear and a smile, touched kate’s shoulder.

“ms. martin, we’re gonna go ahead and have you and your party move down the aisle just a bit— there’s been a slight seating issue, if that’s okay with you guys?”

jada elbows you extra hard this time, and for some reason it solidifies that feeling you get, one that makes your heart leap as you all nod, getting to your feet without argument, only as kate turns to give you a look that’s supposed to be scolding, but fuck, you can see the glimmer of hope in it that makes your chest constrict, your eyes burn in pride.

“you’re giving me eyes, and for what?” she hums, the teeth against her cheek working overtime as you all settle into the new seats, kate at the end of the aisle, and a fluttery feeling in your chest, “no reason.” you say it almost smugly, as if you know something she doesn’t, and you don’t, but god, you can feel it.

the names fly off, left and right, number 16, and kate’s knee starts bouncing slightly, number 17 and your heart feels like it’s going way too fucking fast, number 18, and jada peers around you to glance at kate, and then…

las vegas, aces— kate martin.

if watching caitlin win had felt like a parent watching their child, this must’ve been adjacent to winning the fucking lottery.

you’re on your feet in mere seconds, the tears that had built finally dripping down your cheeks, a fact you’d only come to find embarrassing once you realize how visible they are on the playback, but fuck it, your girl was going pro.

she wastes no time in wrapping you up, her face ducking into your shoulder as your arms twine around her middle, thinking subconsciously of how you know you shouldn’t risk it, but kate doesn’t seem to mind, only releasing you with a single arm to embrace jada, and then gabbie, before she’s back to you.

of course, it doesn’t occur to you in the moment, that it’s a hard launch— no, it doesn’t really sink in until she kisses you hard against the temple before she’s breezing down the aisle, the subsequent eruption in applause leaving you starstruck, in silent awe.

after that, it’s somewhat of a blur— she takes her picture and accepts her jersey, the newscasters going off on some spiel about your girlfriends work ethic, her attitude, her endurance, everything you already fucking knew, had known for so long, that she’d finally have a chance to prove.

the moment she’s back beside you, it also doesn’t register to you that she must’ve been just as accepting about the reveal, because it’s only a second that she’s in her seat before she plants a soft kiss to your mouth, the dark lipstick you’d been steadily biting off in anxiety sticking to hers and she’s grinning, bigger than she had all day, and for a moment, you think you might actually collapse because god,

you love her. so fucking much.

“told you so,” you make out between the tears, smiling through the tightness in your voice that makes you sound warbled, whimpering even as she just laughs at you, her thumb careful to wipe beneath your eyes, “guess you did.”

of course, it’s only customary that after such a good night, everyone must get fucked up— so, that’s exactly what happens.

you get to gush to caitlin— hugging her tight around the neck and congratulating her a million times, to which she reciprocates when it comes to you and kate, garnering a blush on your already alcohol flushed cheeks, rolling your eyes as you punch her arm.

“whatever, fever.”

“whatever, ‘ace’.”

you pretend you don’t notice the quotations she puts around it, and give her a friendly middle finger instead— if kate was an ace, that meant you basically were too, at least by proxy.

“hey money,” you call to kate affectionately, seeing only the back of her head as she talks to gabbie, your arms sliding around her waist to hold her tight from behind.

“my love,” she greets with a smile, looking over her shoulder to pucker her lips at you, expecting a kiss that you so easily return. it feels fucking terrifying, in all honesty, to be so open, but you can’t find it within you to care enough to give it up— not when she’s this happy.

“dude, you totally knew, didn’t you? there’s no way you would’ve started crying like that unless you knew.” she’s drunk, chattering at a volume level beyond what’s needed considering you were right behind her, hand sneaking beneath her blazer, but you can’t help the way you shrug, “i’m always right, huh?”

later that night, she shows you just how right you are.

it’s past a decent hour to still be tugging off clothes from the night prior— the clock read four in the morning, but the windows spoke of the twinkling lights that surrounded, the city not quite awake, but never asleep.

“you’re a pro,” you hum against her mouth as you tug off her blazer, hands making quick work of the belt that kept you from exploring, smirking at the look she gives you, daring and all too fucking sexy, “it’s so hot to think about.”

“yeah?” her fingers hook beneath the straps of the dress until she’s dragging them down your shoulders, “you want me to show you how professionals do it?”

the next thing you know she’s between your legs, nothing but a white top and her slacks on, unbuttoned, as she hikes a leg over her shoulder, kisses along the inside of your thigh with an intensity only comparable to how she is after a really good game.

“fuck—!” it leaves your mouth in a sound that’s almost unrecognizable, the realization that you’d been pleasantly and uncomfortably horny ever since the draft had ended making itself known considering just how much kate had been unrelenting during press— hands on your hips or on the inside of your thigh, toying with the hair on the back of your neck or grasping the inside of your elbow to lead you along.

she knew it drove you crazy, you knew she’d make it up to you later.

her mouth makes easy work on you, tongue long and flat as she laps against your cunt, rough in all the ways that she knew you could handle— thumbs pressing fingerprint bruises into your skin, breath hot and heavy against your clit, hips moving on their own accord as you gasp out a string of incoherent whimpers. “shit, baby- just… just like that.”

it wasn’t like kate had ever failed at getting you off, but tonight, she performed as if it was her last game, greedy almost as she drinks you in, making sure to not leave one bit of you unchecked. her tongue is almost sinful in the way it makes your voice careen, high and whining, your hand finding a permanent tangle into her already mussed hair.

but she’s cocky tonight, presumptuous right before you orgasm as she raises her head to kiss your thigh, biting the skin before she’s climbing onto the bed beside you, too tall to be graceful, but you’re too fucking horny to even spare her the laughs you usually give.

“up, c’mere.” she’s breathless still, but she doesn’t let you rest for even a second, leaning across you to curl her fingers around your thigh to tug you up from your laying position, rousing you from the hazy, almost delirious state of mind as you push yourself up, letting out a shaking breath when she’s sliding your leg over her chest, hands grazing up the back of your thighs until she’s pulling you, right over over her mouth.

“kate, wha- you’re so— fuck.”

any semblance of words or sense seem to leave you in one second, as she flattens her tongue against the wetness that’s collected, the friction almost unbearable when her head tilted upwards, nose brushing hard against your clit in a way that pulls a cry from your lips. she’s unfaltering, diligent, unabashed in the way she’s moving your hips, the way she pairs each grind against her nose with a curl of her tongue, and really, it’s over before it fucking starts.

her mouth is glossy, damp when she’s done, and she smiles and it’s arrogant as she’s sliding you back down to sit you against her hips, the mere control she had of your body making you bright red as you pant pathetically, reduced to fucking nothing by her mouth.

it makes you throw your head back with a whimpering sigh, “don’t fucking look at me like that.” you complain, legs still open, thighs still trembling as she races her hands along them, “tired already?”

funnily enough, you were far from fucking tired.

“actually… was thinking about showing you some celebrity treatment?” you muse softly, as she peels off her own top, eyebrows raising, her thumb swiping along the edge of her lip before she’s placing it on the bottom of yours, pressing until it dips into your mouth, the heady taste of what you knew was yourself finding a place on your tongue.

she smirks, tongue poking between her teeth as your stomach fucking turns almost, arousal prickling unforgivingly at you once again.

“ooh,” she muses under her breath, eyes laser focused on the thumb she’d placed between your lips, voice coming out in a whisper, “i like the sound of that.”

she’s smirking though, because sex between you two have never been anything completely serious— that’s just not how kate operates, “ace money martin’s got a ring to it, huh?”

“shut up.”

“make me.”

so, you do.

[madhyanas]

good notes on joe goldberg from you (netflix) in the yt comments section

[solxamber]

I just think the tweels reaction to a short, stronger than one would assume magicless prefect reader being strong enough to be able to suplex or princess carry them would be funny, write this if you wanna or not, i just think it could be funny, have a good day!

Headcanons probably best for the thought i assume

Floyd Leech, Jade Leech with a strong reader

I'm not very good with headcanon format so I hope you like this

Floyd Leech

Floyd Leech is 100% not expecting it. One minute, he's towering over you, leaning in with that sharky grin of his, ready to mess with you as usual. Then, in the next moment, he’s upside down, staring at the ceiling as you effortlessly hoist him into the air like a sack of potatoes. The entire dorm goes silent, mouths hanging open.

“Shrimpy—WHOA?!”

You suplex him so smoothly that even Floyd, who usually loves chaos, is completely thrown off (literally and figuratively). He hits the ground with a thud, but instead of being upset, his eyes are sparkling like you’ve just given him the best gift in the world. He scrambles to his feet, laughing like a madman.

“Hahahaha! You suplexed me! That was amazing! Do it again, Shrimpy! Come on, come on, one more time!” He’s bouncing around you, more excited than a kid at a theme park, while you're just standing there, dusting your hands off like it’s no big deal.

It takes a minute before you realize that this was the worst thing you could have done, because now Floyd’s going to pester you non-stop. He’s hyped, literally begging for you to throw him around like some kind of wrestling toy.

“So strong! I wanna see how far you can toss me next time! Maybe over the pool, yeah?!"

Great. Now you’ve created a monster.

Jade Leech

Now, for Jade, it's a different kind of shock.

Jade is much more composed. At least, he tries to be.

You offer to carry him—he humors you, probably thinking you’ll struggle with it. But instead, you scoop him up into a perfect princess carry. Jade freezes. The usually poised and calm eelman, who’s used to having everything under control, suddenly finds himself being cradled in your arms.

His eyes widen ever so slightly, but he quickly tries to recover, though the surprise is still evident. “Oh my... this is certainly... unexpected.”

Jade, for once, is at a loss for words, blinking at you like he's processing a particularly strange specimen of mushroom. Meanwhile, you're just holding him like it’s no big deal.

“Comfortable up there?” you ask with a smirk.

Jade’s lips twitch into the smallest of smiles as he adjusts his glasses, trying to play it off coolly. “I must admit, I did not foresee this turn of events. You certainly are... stronger than you appear.”

But you can tell he’s internally screaming. The facade of calmness slips for just a second as his cheeks tinge ever so slightly pink—whether from the embarrassment or sheer amusement, you're not sure.

“Perhaps... we should keep this between us, yes?” he suggests with a laugh, clearly amused but not entirely keen on Floyd—or worse, Azul—finding out that he was princess-carried across the room.

But deep down? Oh, he’s impressed. And probably already thinking of how to use your newfound strength to his advantage.

Masterlist

[w1w2]

Can I request for Yn surprise Sana in last day of misamo concert promotion . Tnx

Encore of Love

Minatozaki Sana x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ca. 4,5k

Synopsis: Reader surprises her girlfriend Sana during Misamo's final concert at Kyocera Dome.

Notes: My first request! *kicking my feet and giggling* I'm not completely satisfied with this, but I hope you’ll enjoy it!

English isn’t my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

The grand Kyocera Dome hummed with electric anticipation, a living, breathing entity alive with the chatter of tens of thousands of ONCEs who had gathered for Misamo’s final concert of the HAUTE COUTURE promotions. The sprawling venue, renowned for its iconic architecture and exceptional acoustics, was transformed into a dazzling world of light and color, each corner meticulously designed to reflect the elegance and energy of Misamo.

Banners bearing images of Mina, Sana, and Momo adorned every available surface, their radiant smiles seemingly watching over the crowd. Outside, vendors sold exclusive merchandise, lightsticks, posters, and limited-edition concert wear, all of which fans clutched tightly as they shuffled into the arena. The faint sound of music seeped through the walls, further heightening the excitement.

Backstage, the mood was just as electric, albeit tinged with nervous energy. The members of Misamo were in the final stages of their preparation. Stylists fluttered around them, adding last-minute touches to their already impeccable hair and makeup. Mina reviewed her choreography with the precision of a seasoned professional, her calm demeanor a steadying force amidst the chaos. Momo bounced on the balls of her feet, her vibrant energy filling the room as she hyped herself up for the performance.

And then there was Sana, who was the heart of the group tonight. She stood near the mirror, adjusting the intricate details of her sparkling outfit, a mix of glittering silver and pastel hues. Her eyes shimmered with a mixture of excitement and focus as she practiced her warm-up routines. Yet, beneath her radiant smile, a hint of something softer lingered, a yearning.

Sana’s thoughts drifted momentarily to Y/N. It wasn’t unusual for her to miss Y/N before a big performance, but tonight felt different. The culmination of the Misamo second mini album promotions was a milestone, one she’d poured her heart into, and the absence of her partner left a subtle void. The phone call they’d shared earlier replayed in her mind.

“Baby, I wish I could be there…” Y/N’s voice had sounded warm but hurried, laced with a vague excuse that Sana couldn’t quite decipher.

“It’s okay,” Sana had replied, masking her disappointment. “I know you’re busy. Just… don’t forget to watch the stream, okay?”

“Of course,” Y/N had reassured her, her voice softening. “You’ll be amazing, I know it. I’ll call you right after.”

Back in the venue, Sana shook the thought away. There was no room for distractions now. She had to give her all for the fans who had supported them every step of the way. Yet, as she headed towards the stage, a small voice in her heart whispered, I wish you were here.

Meanwhile, in the audience, hidden among the crowd, a figure sat quietly in the shadows. Clad in a hoodie, a mask, and a baseball cap pulled low over their eyes, Y/N kept her head down, careful not to attract any attention. She gripped her lightstick tightly, heart pounding with anticipation and nerves.

Just a little bit longer, Y/N thought, stealing a glance at the stage where the preparations were in full swing. The plan she’d meticulously crafted over the past few weeks was set in motion. All she needed now was perfect timing.

In the distance, the roaring chants of the crowd swelled, echoing through the dome as the stage lights dimmed, signaling that the concert was about to begin. The countdown had started, not just for Misamo, but for the surprise that would light up Sana’s heart.

It hadn’t been easy, pulling off a gesture like this. There had been countless sleepless nights, a relentless travel schedule, and the constant fear of slipping up and giving herself away. But Y/N knew it would all be worth it when Sana finally saw what she had planned. As the lights danced across the stage, she allowed her thoughts to wander back to the whirlwind of planning that had led her to this very moment.

Few hours earlier Y/N paced back and forth in her hotel room, phone pressed to her ear. Her chest tightened with both guilt and excitement as Sana’s voice came through, soft and loving despite the distance between them.

“Baby, you sound exhausted,” Sana said, her tone tinged with concern. “Have you been eating properly? Sleeping enough?”

Y/N smiled despite herself, Sana’s caring nature always finding a way to melt her heart. She glanced at the clock, calculating the hours until she would see her girlfriend. Not long now, she thought, biting her lip to suppress the excitement bubbling inside her.

“I’m fine, love,” Y/N replied, her voice steady though her heart raced. “Work has been hectic, that’s all. I promise I’ll call you later tonight, okay? I have to go now.”

A faint pause came from the other end. “Oh… okay. Just don’t overwork yourself, alright? I’ll miss you tonight.”

Y/N’s throat tightened. She hated being vague with Sana, but the surprise was worth it. “I’ll miss you too. You’re going to be amazing tonight. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Sana said softly before the line disconnected.

With a sigh of relief, Y/N dropped onto the bed, her mind racing through the intricate plan she had spent weeks coordinating. This wasn’t just about showing up at the concert; it was about making a statement, proving to Sana just how much she meant to her.

Step One: Learning the Choreography

Y/N’s first challenge was mastering the choreography for the encore medley, a feat she had never attempted before. Dancing wasn’t her forte, but she was determined to nail every move.

Under the guidance of Misamo’s choreographer, she practiced tirelessly whenever her schedule allowed. Late nights in the dance studio became a ritual, her muscles sore and her body aching, but the thought of Sana’s smile kept her going.

“She’s going to freak out when she sees you up there,” Momo had teased during one of Y/N’s secret rehearsals.

“You think so?” Y/N asked, wiping sweat from her forehead.

“Absolutely,” Mina chimed in, offering Y/N a bottle of water. “But you’ll have to keep it a secret until then. Sana’s like a radar when it comes to you.”

Y/N grinned, her determination hardening. “I’ll make it worth it.”

Step Two: The Flowers and Letter

Next on the list was preparing Sana’s favorite bouquet, an arrangement of pastel pink and white peonies, accented with delicate sprigs of baby’s breath. Y/N had spent hours researching florists in Osaka to ensure the bouquet would be perfect. Alongside it, she penned a handwritten letter, pouring her heart into every word.

Dear Sana,

I’ve missed more than just your concerts. I’ve missed you. I’m so proud of everything you’ve accomplished, and I can’t wait to tell you just how much you mean to me tonight.

You’ve been my light, even when I’ve been far away. I hope this little surprise makes you feel as loved as you make me feel every single day.

Love, Y/N.

She folded the letter carefully, slipping it into an envelope adorned with a small heart sticker.

Step Three: Gaining Permission

Convincing the managers to allow her on stage had been a delicate process. Misamo’s schedule was packed, and every second of the concert was tightly planned. Thankfully, Mina and Momo had pulled a few strings, vouching for Y/N’s commitment and the sentimental significance of her gesture.

“We promise she won’t disrupt the flow,” Momo had assured the managers with her signature cheeky grin.

“Just think of it as an extra special encore for the fans,” Mina added diplomatically.

Reluctantly, the managers agreed, giving Y/N clearance to join the stage during the closing part.

Step Four: The Disguise

On the night of the concert, Y/N’s final task was to blend in with the crowd unnoticed. She donned a simple black hoodie, paired with jeans and sneakers. A baseball cap and mask completed her disguise. As she entered the arena, she felt a thrill of nervous energy.

Y/N pulled back from her thoughts as the fans around her were buzzing with excitement, waving lightsticks and chanting Misamo members names. Y/N sat near the back, where she could watch the first half of the show without drawing attention to herself. She clutched her lightstick tightly, her heart pounding as the lights dimmed and the concert began.

For now, she was just another fan in the crowd. But soon, she would take the stage, and Sana would know exactly how much she was loved.

The stage, an intricate masterpiece of dazzling LED panels and towering floral arrangements, pulsed with vivid colors as the opening notes of Misamo’s first song reverberated through the air.

Mina, Sana, and Momo emerged from behind the massive screens, their synchronized steps and radiant smiles igniting deafening cheers from the audience. Their outfits sparkled under the stage lights, sleek designs that exuded both elegance and charm.

From the moment they stepped onto the stage, Misamo radiated effortless grace and energy, their performances honed to perfection. Mina’s moves were fluid and precise, every gesture executed with the poise of a professional. Momo’s energy lit up the stage, her sharp, dynamic dance style captivating the crowd. And Sana—

Sana shone brightest of all.

Her soft features were illuminated by the glow of the stage lights, her eyes shimmering as she sang and danced with effortless charm. Her radiant smile, the one that could light up even the darkest corners of a room, was ever-present, and yet… something was missing.

As Sana twirled across the stage during “Marshmallow”, the fans could see nothing but joy, but there was a subtle, fleeting shadow in her expression, a quiet longing. She gave her all to the performance, yet there was a small space in her heart that felt incomplete.

Hidden in the crowd, Y/N's eyes never leaving Sana. Her heart swelled with pride and affection as she watched her girlfriend perform with such grace and confidence. But she also noticed the faint longing in Sana’s gaze, and it only made her more determined to make her surprise unforgettable.

Y/N clutched her lightstick tightly, her fingers trembling slightly from the mixture of nerves and excitement. “You’re incredible, Sana,” she murmured under her breath, the words swallowed by the thunderous applause around her.

As Misamo transitioned seamlessly into “Identity”, the energy in the room reached a fever pitch. The camera operators expertly captured every moment, occasionally panning across the audience. On one such pan, the lens lingered briefly on a hooded figure seated discreetly near the back. Y/N froze for a split second but quickly turned her face away, pretending to adjust her cap.

The fans, blissfully unaware of the figure’s true identity, simply assumed she was another ONCE enjoying the show.

Y/N, however, felt the weight of the moment. Her chest tightened with anticipation as she waited for "New Look", her cue to slip backstage and put the next phase of her plan into action. Until then, she allowed herself to enjoy the performance, a proud smile tugging at her lips as she whispered to herself, “Just wait, Sana. I’ll make tonight unforgettable.”

The thunderous applause from “New Look” had barely subsided when the stage lights dimmed, casting the arena into a hushed anticipation. The opening notes of “Behind the Curtain” began to echo through the dome, a hauntingly beautiful melody that always left the audience spellbound.

This was Y/N’s moment.

While the crowd cheered in unison, Y/N slipped away from her seat and made her way through the staff entrance, her heart pounding. The plan was in motion, and there was no turning back now. A backstage crew member ushered her into a small dressing room where a coordinated outfit awaited her.

Y/N changed quickly, adrenaline coursing through her veins as she tightened the laces on her performance shoes. One last glance in the mirror revealed a nervous but determined woman. She took a deep breath, clutching the bouquet and letter she’d prepared.

“You’ve got this,” she whispered to herself before handing the bouquet to a staff member to bring to the stage later.

As the first song of the encore was ending Y/N joined the backup dancers lining up behind the screens for the encore medley.

Sana, alongside Mina and Momo, twirled across the stage with radiant energy, their synchronization flawless as they transitioned into the last part of the encore. Her playful expressions and smooth moves captivated the audience, drawing cheers so loud they vibrated through the air.

She was too immersed in the performance to notice at first.

When Y/N stepped onto the stage among the backup dancers, blending seamlessly into the choreography, she couldn’t help but smile at how surreal the moment felt. Each step she had rehearsed so many times now felt automatic, her focus entirely on Sana.

The crowd didn’t seem to recognize Y/N right away, though a few murmurs rippled through the audience as some fans noticed a new face on stage.

It wasn’t until the "Wah Wah Wah" part, when Sana turned to interact with the dancers, her gaze landed on Y/N.

For a split second, Sana froze mid-step, her eyes widening in disbelief. Her usual polished composure faltered as her radiant smile transformed into a look of pure shock.

“Y/N?” she mouthed silently, her voice drowned out by the music.

Y/N flashed her a small, playful wink before continuing the routine. Sana quickly recovered, her movements a little lighter now, as if she’d been infused with a burst of joy.

The audience, unaware of their connection, erupted into cheers at Sana’s visibly delighted reaction. Fans began speculating among themselves, sensing there's something more special then just friendship between two girls.

As the medley ended, the lights dimmed again, and the stage was briefly quiet. The members of Misamo moved toward the front of the stage to thank their fans, their microphones already in hand. But before they could begin, the spotlight shifted to Y/N, who stepped forward from the group of dancers, clutching the bouquet of flowers.

The crowd gasped in unison as Y/N pulled off a mic, lowered her head slightly, and began to speak into the arena’s microphone.

“Hi, everyone,” Y/N began, her voice steady despite the overwhelming mix of nerves and love. She turned her gaze to Sana, who stood frozen, her hand pressed to her chest as her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

“I wanted to take this moment to say how incredibly proud I am of you girls. Especially you, Sana. I’m so proud of everything you’ve done, everything you’ve achieved. Even though I couldn’t be there for most of this journey, I’ve been cheering for you every step of the way. You light up every room you walk into, and you’ve been my light too. I just wanted you to know how much you mean to me.”

Sana’s tears finally spilled over as she stepped closer, her radiant smile trembling with emotion. The crowd erupted into cheers and applause, their phones lighting up the arena as they captured the heartfelt moment.

Y/N held out the bouquet, which Sana accepted with trembling hands. Pulling Y/N into a tight embrace, she whispered, just loud enough for Y/N to hear, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Y/N murmured back, her voice cracking slightly with emotion.

As the cheers grew louder, Sana and Y/N stepped back together, still holding hands, their smiles beaming brighter than any spotlight. Rest of the Misamo joined them moments later, Mina and Momo grinning mischievously as they teased Sana for tearing up on stage.

The group waved to the crowd one last time before disappearing backstage, the echoes of the audience’s applause following them as they left the stage together.

The backstage area buzzed with post-show energy. Crew members congratulated each other, Misamo’s managers offered heartfelt praise, and staff snapped photos to commemorate the final concert. In the midst of it all, Y/N found herself pulled into hugs from both Mina and Momo, their teasing smiles already giving away their plans to poke fun at her.

“You really pulled it off,” Momo said, grinning as she leaned against the dressing room doorframe. “I was a little worried you’d trip on stage during ‘Marshmallow,’ part but you nailed it!”

Mina nodded in agreement, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. “We’ve been keeping this secret for weeks, and honestly? Watching Sana’s face when she realized it was you made it all worth it.”

“Her jaw practically hit the floor,” Momo added with a laugh, glancing at Sana, who was trying (and failing) not to blush. “The fans noticed too. You might’ve just become the most iconic backup dancer in Misamo history.”

“Stop it, you two,” Sana huffed, though the blush on her cheeks deepened. She turned to Y/N with a small pout, her tone softening. “You really had to involve these two in your grand scheme?”

Y/N shrugged, feigning innocence. “I needed backup for the backup plan. And I’d say it worked out pretty well, wouldn’t you?”

Sana rolled her eyes playfully but couldn’t hide the faint blush creeping up her cheeks. “Stop teasing me,” she whined, though her soft smile betrayed just how happy she was.

Y/N, emboldened by the lighthearted banter, chimed in, “Come on, it was worth it just to see you cry on stage.”

Sana narrowed her eyes, pretending to be offended. “I wasn’t crying. It was… emotional perspiration!”

“Right,” Y/N said with a laugh, reaching out to take Sana’s hand. The group dissolved into laughter, the camaraderie between them shining brighter than ever.

After a flurry of photos with the crew and staff, the four of them retreated to Misamo’s dressing room. Momo flopped dramatically onto the couch while Mina carefully began removing her stage accessories.

Sana and Y/N sat side by side, their fingers intertwined as if they couldn’t bear to let go. Despite the teasing, Mina and Momo exchanged knowing glances, quietly slipping out of the room to give the couple a rare moment of privacy.

As they left the venue later that night, the streets of Osaka were alive with fans lingering in the afterglow of the concert. Y/N and Sana walked hand in hand, their steps slow and unhurried as they basked in each other’s presence.

“You know,” Sana began, her voice soft, “I didn’t realize how much I needed you here tonight until I saw you on that stage. It felt like… everything was perfect.”

Y/N squeezed her hand gently. “I hated missing so much of your promotion. I felt like I wasn’t there for you, and I wanted to make up for that. You deserve to know how loved you are, not just by ONCEs, but by me.”

Sana leaned her head against Y/N’s shoulder as they continued walking. “You don’t have to make up for anything. Just being here tonight was more than enough.”

“Well, I’m glad I made you cry anyway,” Y/N teased, earning a light shove from Sana.

Later that night, the warm glow of the hotel room’s ambient lighting created an intimate cocoon around Y/N and Sana. They sat cross-legged on the plush carpet, a late-night dinner spread out between them. The faint hum of the city outside was the only sound beyond their laughter.

Sana picked at a piece of sushi, giggling as she recounted the encore’s highlights. “Did you see Momo trying to suppress her laugh when the confetti cannon misfired? She almost tripped over Mina during the turn.”

Y/N chuckled, leaning back on her hands as she watched Sana relive the moment, her face animated and glowing with happiness. “I did. But somehow you managed to keep it together and still look flawless. Seriously, how do you do that?”

Sana shrugged with mock modesty, a playful glint in her eyes. “Years of practice. You pick up a thing or two when the cameras are always on you.”

Their lighthearted conversation slowed as they finished their food, settling into a comfortable silence. Sana leaned against the edge of the bed, her head tilted slightly as she admired the skyline from the room’s window. Y/N, meanwhile, shifted nervously, her heart racing. She reached into her bag, her fingers brushing against the small velvet box she’d kept hidden all evening.

Clearing her throat, Y/N finally spoke. “Hey, um… I have something for you.”

Sana turned to her, curious. “What is it?”

Y/N hesitated, her cheeks tinged with the faintest blush. “Just… open it.” She handed Sana the box with a shy smile, her palms slightly sweaty despite the calm demeanor she tried to project.

Sana’s brows knit together in surprise as she took the box, her fingers gently traced Graff logo on the box, carefully lifting the lid. Her breath hitched when her eyes landed on the delicate diamond necklace nestled inside. The necklace sparkled even under the soft hotel lighting, its intricate floral design exuding timeless elegance.

“Y/N…” Sana’s voice wavered, her fingertips brushing lightly over the diamonds. “This is… it’s stunning. But… this is way too much. I can’t—”

“You can, and you will,” Y/N interrupted, her tone gentle yet firm. She shifted closer, taking Sana’s free hand in hers. “Because you’re worth everything to me. This necklace, it’s not just a gift. It’s a reminder that no matter how far apart we are, I’m always thinking of you. You mean more to me than I could ever put into words, and I want you to have something that shows just a fraction of that.”

Sana’s eyes brimmed with tears, her lips quivering as she tried to find the right words. She shook her head softly, a smile breaking through the emotion. “You’re so ridiculous sometimes, you know that?”

Y/N grinned, brushing her thumb across the back of Sana’s hand. “Ridiculous in the best way, I hope.”

“In every way,” Sana whispered, her voice barely audible as she leaned forward, pressing her forehead to Y/N’s.

Y/N gently took the necklace from the box and moved behind Sana, her fingers deftly clasping it around her neck. The cool weight of the diamonds settled against Sana’s collarbone, glinting softly in the light. Y/N adjusted it slightly, leaning back to admire how it looked.

“Perfect,” Y/N murmured, her voice filled with warmth.

Sana turned around slowly, her face inches from Y/N’s. “It’s beautiful,” she said, her voice hushed. “But you… you’re the one who makes me feel like the luckiest person in the world.”

Y/N’s cheeks warmed, but she couldn’t help the soft chuckle that escaped her. “I think that makes two of us.”

Without another word, Sana leaned in, capturing Y/N’s lips in a soft, lingering kiss. It was tender, unhurried, and filled with all the unspoken love between them. Y/N cupped Sana’s cheek gently, her thumb tracing the curve of her jaw as they shared the quiet moment.

When they finally pulled back, Sana rested her head on Y/N’s shoulder, her fingers tracing absent patterns on Y/N’s arm. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For tonight. For everything.”

Y/N pressed a kiss to the top of her head, her heart swelling with love. “Always.”

Later, as they lay curled up on the bed, Sana’s head resting on Y/N’s shoulder, the necklace caught the faint moonlight streaming through the window. 

The soft glow of Sana’s phone illuminated the room as she scrolled through the TWICE group chat, her head nestled comfortably against Y/N’s shoulder. The two of them were snuggled under the blankets, their legs tangled together, exhaustion from the long day settling into their bones. But neither seemed ready to fall asleep just yet.

“Look at this,” Sana murmured, tilting her phone so Y/N could see the screen. The chat was alive with messages, the names of TWICE’s members lighting up with playful banter.

Momo: The way Sana looked at Y/N… iconic. Mina: Her jaw literally dropped. I should’ve recorded it from the stage instead of waiting for fan cams. Nayeon: Sana, if you don’t marry her soon, I’m calling dibs. Jihyo: Nayeon, stop stealing people’s girlfriends! Chaeyoung: Sana, can you ask Y/N to teach us the choreography? She’s a natural. Dahyun: The fans are losing it! Y/N is officially a Twice bias now. Tzuyu: You mean Sana’s bias.

Sana giggled softly, hiding her face in Y/N’s neck. “They’re relentless.”

Y/N laughed, her hand gently running through Sana’s hair. “I think Nayeon unnie might actually be serious about that marriage comment.”

“Not a chance,” Sana said with a playful pout, shifting to look up at Y/N. “You’re mine.”

Y/N smiled down at her, their eyes meeting in the dim light. “Always.”

Sana’s phone buzzed again, but this time it wasn’t the group chat. It was a flood of notifications from social media. Curiosity piqued, she tapped into one of the trending hashtags. Sure enough, the internet was ablaze with clips and fan edits of Y/N’s surprise appearance at the concert.

Fans gushed about Y/N’s unexpected presence, praising her dedication and swooning over Sana’s emotional reaction. The hashtags #YNSanaSurprise and #BestFriendGoals trended worldwide, with tweets and videos pouring in by the second.

“Look at this one,” Sana said, pointing to a video compilation of their moment on stage, set to a romantic ballad.

The caption read: “Y/N and Sana’s friendship goals… or something more? Either way, we’re obsessed!”

Y/N chuckled. “I guess the secret’s out, huh?”

Sana locked her phone and placed it on the nightstand, turning her full attention back to Y/N. “Let them guess,” she said softly, her fingers tracing small circles on Y/N’s arm. “As long as we know the truth, that’s all that matters.”

Y/N leaned down to kiss her forehead. “And the truth is, I love you more than anything, Sana. Today, tomorrow, forever.”

Sana’s smile was radiant, even in the dark. “Forever sounds perfect.”

They lay there in comfortable silence, the steady rhythm of their breathing syncing together. Outside, the city lights sparkled, a reminder of the bustling world beyond their little sanctuary. But in that moment, there was only them.

As the first light of dawn peeked through the curtains, painting the room in soft hues of gold and pink, Y/N tightened her hold on Sana, their bodies wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and comfort. Their breaths intertwined, their hearts beating as one, creating a silent melody that spoke louder than any words ever could.

No matter what the future held, grueling schedules, endless flights, or the watchful eyes of the world, they knew their love would endure. It wasn’t just a fleeting moment of happiness, but a steady force that grounded them, a light they could always turn to even on the darkest days.

Y/N placed a gentle kiss on the top of Sana’s head, her voice a soft whisper in the stillness of the morning. “We’ll take on everything together, no matter what. You and me, always.”

Sana stirred slightly, her lips curving into a small, sleepy smile as she murmured back, “Always.”

[burrowdarling]

Avid Reader

Summary: what happens when a movie night turns into a book-to-life adaptation

Pairings: best friend!Joe x reader

Warnings: vague mentions of spice

Note: Hi everyone! Thank you for all of the love on my first fic, it means the absolute world to me. Things don't really get spicy in this one, but if that's something you all would be interested in I'm totally open to it. Feedback is welcome as always, enjoy!

Word Count: 1.4k

Check out my Masterlist here!

It was a chilly fall evening, curled up on your couch with your current read waiting for Joe to get out of practice. It was tradition that one of you held your weekly movie night, this week it happened to be you.

You’d been dying to get into the book since it came out a week prior, finally finding the time to devote to digging into it. It was romantasy with a good bit of spice, according to the reviews you’d seen from others, and so far, it’s lived up to the hype. The two main characters were finally going from enemies to lovers-literally. The male main character was saying all the right things to the female lead, your mind wandering into her shoes.

He had her pressed up against the wall, towering over her, whispering all of the unspeakable things he was about to do to her. You felt your cheeks heat and thighs press together as you continued to read on, things heating up between the two. It had been some time since you’d been with anyone, relying on your own means. You’d been so busy lately, not having much time to release any of your stress or frustrations.

Your mind continued to drift, thinking of Joe saying and doing those same things to you. You’d had the biggest crush on him since you were kids, only growing as you watched the amazing man Joe was growing to be. You felt that he had all of the qualities you could ever want in a guy, though you felt you’d always be stuck in the friendzone with him. There were times that you guys would playfully flirt back and forth, thinking nothing of it as Joe never made any other moves on you. You wondered what it would be like to really have him, all of him, for yourself. 

You heard your front door open and close, altering you that Joe had arrived from practice, pulling you out of your fantasy world. You felt a blush rise on your cheeks, aware that you were essentially reading what some would consider porn with your best friend in the other room. Not to mention the fact you were having the furthest from innocent thoughts about said best friend.

 Joe walked further in your apartment, looking a cozy as could be in his black sweatshirt and matching sweatpants. A smile crept up your face at happy you were to have Joe in your life, your longstanding friendship being something you cherished. You set your book upside down on the armrest of the couch as to not lose your spot to get up and greet him with a hug.

His hair was slightly damp from his post practice shower, a slight stubble on his cheeks and tinged a light pink from the crisp fall weather. His scent was intoxicating, something you would never get over. You could feel the firmness of his chest as Joe hugged you tight, wrapping his strong arms around you. You always loved Joe’s hugs, getting to feel how strong he was and how easily he could manhandle you if he wanted.

You released him, going to settle back on the couch. You needed a second to collect yourself after what you just read, thoughts of Joe in that position flooding your thoughts. You gently shook your head, trying to clear it as you felt the couch dip next to you, Joe claiming his usual spot. His presence felt closer than usual, chalking it up to your heightened senses, needing a second of space to clear your less than innocent thoughts of your best friend out of your mind.

“I’ll go get everything from the kitchen if you want to choose movie #1” you said as casually as you could. 

You hopped up off the couch to go grab the array of snacks you prepared in the kitchen, leaving Joe to pick the first movie. You took a second to 

As he went to reach for the remote to scroll through the options, he noticed your book resting propped open to save your place. 

Joe, figuring he would be a good friend, found your bookmark nearby and would properly mark your page. It was what he found on the page that stopped him in his track. You had left off on a particularly spicy scene between the two main characters, not thinking much of it when you got up. Joe, however, couldn’t stop thinking about you as he read.

You were Joe’s best friend since childhood, growing up together and forming a bond that could weather anything life threw at you two. Joe wouldn’t deny that he’s had a crush on you forever, only growing as you guys got older and emotions evolved. Joe also couldn’t deny that he felt you were the most gorgeous women he’s ever laid his eyes on.

Joe knew you liked to read, but he never imagined you read things like this. He always thought that they were romcoms like the movies. This was vastly different, not that he was complaining by any means. It gave him a glimpse into your mind and got him thinking about what you liked, what made your body tick. His arousal grew the more he thought about what you would look like in that position, your small frame towered by his taller one. Caging you in with his arms while he told you every dirty thing he’s ever wanted to do to you.

He heard your footsteps fast approaching from the kitchen, his heart rate quickening as he fumbled to grab your bookmark. At the sound of your voice, he turned to face you trying his best to compose himself.

“I got all of our favorites on deck. What movie did you decide on?” you asked while setting everything down on the coffee table. You looked up, eyes landing on your book in Joe’s hands. He held the bookmark in one hand, his fingertips marking your page in the other. You noticed a slight blush tinge his cheeks

“Oh I was just- I saw your bookmark on the table so I figured I’d put it in your book for you before we got ready for the movie” Joe stumbled over his words, his usually cool demeanor nowhere to be found. He felt completely flustered by the thoughts of the two of you as the main characters. Oh what he would give to be able to get out of the friendzone with you.

“Thanks, you do know you actually have to put it in the book to hold use it though, right?”

Joe looked down at his hands, realizing he never finished his task of putting it in and setting the book aside. His mind racing to figure out a way out of this situation. You were his best friend and that was a line Joe thought you’d never cross. How could you possibly like him like that? 

You smirked as you watched Joe trying to find the right thing to say, knowing he must’ve gotten curious about your current read. You took a brave step towards Joe, taking the book from his hands and settling your arms on Joe’s shoulders. You could hear his breath hitch in his throat at your contact. 

“What’d you think of the story?” you asked him, feeling his heart rate increase. “Did you imagine us in that scene too?”

Your question caught him off guard. Too? It felt too good to be true, figuring his hearing must have deceived him. You inched closer, Joe’s hands falling to your hips as you pressed up against him to reach his ear. 

“Wanna recreate the scene together?” you whispered in his ear, lips ghosting over the sensitive spot on Joe’s neck. 

Joe pushed all thoughts out of his mind about what would come after that, focusing in on the moment of your body and your words. He felt the shift from nervous to bold, catching your lips with his in a slow, passionate kiss. He could feel your breathing quicken as your hands latched into his hair, looking for something to ground yourself with.  

Your connection with each other was palpable with every touch and kiss you shared. When you finally broke apart, Joe rested his forehead on yours. Taking this moment for you both to catch your breath and wrap your minds around this moment. 

“God, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that” Joe sighed in content as his hand drifted up and down your back. 

“What else have you wanted to do?” you asked innocently, your eyes telling a different story.

Instead of giving you a response, Joe picked you up and carried you off to your room the idea of movie night long forgotten.

[formulawolff]

v. heat of the moment - t.w.

pairing: female driver! x toto wolff

word count: 2.9k

warnings: cursing, some mentions of misogyny, a physical altercation, slight physical injury, teasing, banter, YEARNING, there is lots of yearning, toto wanting to rail the absolute shit out of you, power imbalances, age gap, yadayadayada

prev. | next.

“you ready?” 

james peers down, towering over the car as the pit crew flurries around, prepping for the race. 

you shrug, flipping your visor, “is it too patriotic of me to say that i was born ready?” 

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“well i’ll do you one better,” the team principal leans over the car, slapping your helmet a couple of times, “go get ‘em tiger.” 

“way to hype me up.” 

“i think another podium is in the cards,” james’ face hardens, the intensity of the race setting in, “you think you could get us on the podium again?” 

“i don’t know about first. they don’t refer to max as the dutch assassin for nothing,” at least you were realistic, “but i think i could place second or third.” 

“i think we should aim for first.” 

underneath the helmet, the corners of your lips curl into a grin, “i think so too.” 

“i believe in you,” james’ hand finds yours, shaking it, “we all believe in you.” 

the authenticity of his statement sends a slight wave of distress washing over you. 

ever since the night in jeddah, your loyalty was beginning to shift. 

you were starting to seriously consider toto’s offer. 

although you made the verbal commitment to james that you would remain with williams until 2026, a certain team principal was starting to tug at your heartstrings. of course, this team principal didn’t have to try very hard. 

even the slightest smile was enough to send you spiraling. 

the turmoil was enough to keep you up at night, tossing and turning. there was really no legitimate reason you could give james on your departure, other than it was your teenage dream to drive for mercedes. 

you would have to lie through your teeth and attempt to put on this facade that you had always wanted to be with mercedes. you just happened to settle for williams. 

fuck, that really made you the asshole. 

now, here you were. 

day-dreaming about a certain team principal, completely on autopilot. 

yet, that quickly faded as you glance up, watching as the lights blink, that green hue gleaming in the sunlight. 

it was go time. 

now or never. 

the roar of the engines is nearly deafening as it fills the track, blood roaring in your ears as you step on the gas.

for the australian grand prix, you were fifth on the grid. it wasn’t a terrible spot, as you had the opportunity to overtake a few places, which would earn you a podium. 

behind you, was george russell from mercedes, lewis hamilton in seventh. ahead were max, sergio, charles, and carlos. 

overtaking the ferrari boys would be a challenge, but you were more than willing to accept it. if you were able to just overtake carlos, you would be content with fourth. 

even if you weren’t on the podium, those points would be significant. 

closing in on carlos, adrenaline pumped in your veins as your sucked in a breath, james voice flooding your ears on the radio. 

“you got this. go for it.” 

the moment you’re about to step on the gas, a horrendous scraping noise sounds to your left. 

george made contact with your car, sending the two of you flying towards the tarmac. you skid along, bracing for impact as you barrel towards the wall. 

although it was merely seconds, it felt like eternity. 

for a moment, your field of vision goes black. 

yet, you blink, the sun so vivid as it shines through your visor. shaking your head, you groan as you clamber out of the car, scrambling to your feet. 

swiveling your helmet, you make out george. 

that’s when everything started to become tinged with a crimson hue. 

“you bastard!” 

“oh?” george taunts you, “this was my fault?” 

“of course it fucking was!” you march over to the british driver, “learn how to fucking drive the damn car!” 

“learn how to overtake somebody else and we would have never had this fucking problem!” george retaliates, his voice raising with every word. 

you just scoff, deciding to let it go. 

accidents happen. unfortunately for you, it was just part of the job. it may have cost you a podium, gave your car significant damage, and ruined your day, but you had to let it go. it was just a bad day at the office. 

well, more like a fucking awful shit day at the office.

as you suck in a breath, strolling away from george, he decides to goad you on even further, giving one final retort. 

“you should have stuck to nascar! maybe then it would have been easier for you to navigate a bloody track!” 

you stop in your tracks, glancing over your shoulder. 

“what did you just fucking say?” 

“you heard me,” george folds his arms over his chest, “you should have stuck to fucking nascar. maybe then that thick skull of yours would have been able to navigate the track! it’s pretty bloody simple you know, just a few left turns!” 

that was the moment when everything truly went dark. 

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“do you know how much today cost us?” 

james is to your right, massaging his temples. however, you can’t quite decipher the emotions plastered across his features.

was he disappointed? furious? you couldn’t tell. 

alex is across from you, chewing on a thumbnail, “i mean, things could have been worse.” 

“we literally had to pry her off of him,” james exhales, groaning slightly, “it’s a mess. that’s what it is. a fucking mess.” 

“i think you guys are forgetting he started it,” you mumble, pressing an ice pack to your jaw, “he told me i should’ve stuck to nascar. i mean, what would you have done in that moment?” 

“walked away? called him a twat or something?” james shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut, “you know i adore you, but you really fucked us over today. my driver getting into a physical altercation with another team was the last thing on my agenda today. yeah, the accident was bad, but that… that was awful.” 

“hey,” alex puts his hands up, “at least i didn’t crash my car.” 

“fuck off,” you shoot him a glare, “also, i wouldn’t call that an accident. it was more like a little skirmish.” 

“you beating his ass wasn’t,” alex points out, his tone laced with a tease, “i gotta admit, that was pretty entertaining to watch.” 

“i taught that bitch one thing today. and it’s that you don’t mess with texas,” a laugh bubbles up in your throat, earning a chuckle from alex in response. 

“what am i going to do with you two?” although he tries to remain stern, you can see a hint of a smile on james’ face. 

“i think i deserve some rest,” raising your arms above your head, you use your hands as a cushion, leaning backwards, “i put in a lot of work today.” 

“yeah,” alex nods, “a lot of work beating that brit’s ass.” 

“do you think he’s scared of me?” 

“i think everyone is,” alex rolls his eyes playfully, “if i was max verstappen, i would be shaking in my boots right now.” 

“okay, okay,” james interjects, “enough from you both. we can discuss this further tomorrow. i’m exhausted.” 

“you weren’t even the one throwing the punches!” alex tosses his hands up in the air, “if anyone if exhausted, it’s probably our wwe superstar over here!” 

“go,” james waves a hand at the two of you, “like i said, we’ll talk more tomorrow. i have to do damage control for the rest of the night. probably well into tomorrow too.” 

“i am sorry,” you clear your throat, rising to your feet. you make eye contact with alex, who is still bearing a mischievous grin, “i guess that australian heat just got to me.” 

“i cannot take you two seriously right now,” james sighs, “go. get some rest.” 

unlike james’ dismissal, you did not have to be told that twice. 

after george’s snide remarks, you caved under the heat of the moment. with emotions running high, you sprung forward at the british driver, shoving him a couple of times. he goaded you on, taunting you to “actually do something about it.” 

of course, you actually did something about it. 

what could you say? it was the american way. 

there was no way in hell you were going to let him off the hook. especially after he demanded that you “go back to nascar.” those comments were completely unnecessary and uncalled for. anyone could admit that. 

so, in response, you knocked him to the ground, throwing a few good punches in before a safety crew member pried you off of him. 

the little “skirmish” with the mercedes driver had taken the formula one world by storm. 

all over social media, there were mixed reactions. many of the comments praised you for not taking anyone’s shit. the others blasted your character, questioning if women truly belonged in formula one if they “let their emotions get the best of them.” 

numerous fans called for your resignation from williams driving, claiming that you had no right to be behind the wheel of a car. 

the fia claimed they would be launching an investigation to determine if there were to be punishments for both drivers. mercedes put out a statement that they would be “thoroughly addressing the incident that occurred with one of their drivers.” 

meanwhile, williams racing had yet to comment on the matter, remaining silent. 

personally, you felt that the sheer embarrassment from your outburst was enough. you would be the topic of discussion for weeks. your personality, likeness, and every somewhat terrible thing you had ever done would be dissected throughout reddit forums, through tik toks, and through instagram posts. 

surely the fia would remain merciful, but you had your doubts. 

pulling up the hood on your sweatshirt, you make your way in the direction of your motorhome. 

at least that would provide you a space away from all of the chaos that ensued after the race. 

in your pocket, your phone buzzes. 

reluctantly, you fish it out, anticipating your name to be headlining yet another article. instead, it’s a message from mr. wolff.

i’m on my way over. be there in five. 

oh fuck.

toto wolff was the last person you wanted to see. 

especially after today. 

flinging open the door, you trudge into the space, dumping your belongings on the counter. making your way to your room, you flop on the bed, resisting the urge to scream into your pillow. 

not even a minute later, you hear a familiar voice filling the motorhome. 

“don’t tell me you’re hiding from — oh, there you are.” 

“i don’t want to talk about it.” 

“i think we should.” 

his tone is far different than you anticipated. you expected him to be furious, dropping the offer entirely. 

rather, his words are quiet, laced with a softness as he sits on the edge of the bed, placing a tender hand on your back. 

“rough day, huh?” 

“rough is not even the word to describe the absolute shitshow that was today,” your head is still buried in the pillow, your voice muffled, “you have no idea how disappointed i am in myself.” 

“i’m sure,” toto inhales sharply, “i hope you know that what occurred today does not change anything. actually, it’s convinced me that you deserve that mercedes seat even more than i initially thought.” 

“toto,” you lift your head up, “i literally physically assaulted another driver. a driver who happens to belong on your team. i don’t deserve that seat.” 

“well it simply proved to me that you’re more than willing to stand up for what you believe in,” he counters, that gentleness dissolving into firmness, “you don’t take anyone’s shit. i need that energy brought into mercedes.”

“i think if you gave me that seat, george would actually shit himself.”

“don’t fret baby,” a hand finds your hair, fingers smoothing out some strands, “i would be your mediator.”

“are you sure you still want to offer me that seat? do you know how much the media is going to ridicule you?”

“i think i have been ridiculed enough in my time at mercedes,” he shrugs, “what’s a little bit more? if it means i have you, nothing else will matter.”

shifting your weight, you sit up, scooting over a little so that you could be next to toto. leaning your head on his shoulder, you nuzzled into his dress shirt, his arm instinctively wrapping around your frame, “today just fucking sucked.”

“i can only imagine baby,” light kisses pepper your temple, trailing all over the bridge of your nose and the apples of your cheeks, “i could help take your mind off things.”

“i’m sure you could,” your heart skips a beat as his hand squeezes your thigh, “i wish you could just make it all go away.”

“i could definitely do that, sweet girl,” his hand inches further and further up your thigh, fingers tracing circles, “you want me to take care of you?”

yet, as his mouth hovers around your ear, a flash of pain seeps into your skull, causing you to wince. 

“fuck.”

“what’s wrong?” 

“my head hurts,” you whimper, “after i hit the wall, i think i may have passed out for a second. everything went black, i couldn’t see anything.”

“and you didn’t have a medic clear you?” toto presses, and you can’t help but notice the inflections of worry, “baby, you should have had someone look at you.”

“i was more focused on other things,” you mumble, the pain beginning to increase, “fuck.”

“you’re probably just a little banged up from the crash. if your symptoms continue through the morning, we’ll get you checked out.”

“we?”

“well,” he pauses, biting his tongue, “i would say i would take you to our medic, but i think that would raise some eyebrows. make sure you see someone, okay?”

before you know it, toto is to his feet, towering over you on the edge of the bed, “where are your pajamas?”

“you don’t have to–”

"i want to,” he interrupts, “let me help, okay? you don’t have to do everything yourself, you know that?”

“but i’m used to–”

“and i need you to know that while i’m here, you do not have to worry about that anymore. i’m going to take care you. anything that you need, you’ll get,” he brushes a lock of hair away from your forehead. 

you melt, nearly collapsing under his touch as he caresses your cheek. wrapping your arms around his thigh, you nuzzle into his hip. 

meanwhile, the team principal is about to crumple to his knees at the sight of you. fuck, you were so cute. why were you so goddamn cute?

even after assaulting one of his drivers, you were still pretty damn cute. he was not lying when he said it made you more attractive. 

he needed someone to be that passionate about their team, their driving, and their beliefs. he needed someone who could take a stand against another driver without backing down. he needed someone who didn’t give a fuck. 

he needed you. 

fuck, he needed you. 

in the moments the two of you were apart, he could barely process his thoughts. you were consuming his mind whole. he clung to your words, your voice, so sweet and soft, flooding his ears when you weren’t around. he found himself checking his phone more frequently, in attempts to see if you had responded. 

lately, it seemed every time he thought about racing, his mind brought him to you. 

he was addicted to you. 

“how about some head?” 

your inquiry takes him by surprise, his jaw clenching, heart racing, “oh? does my baby need some?”

“it may help ease my headache,” you glance upwards, the team principal fighting back a groan as filthy fantasies begin to creep into his thoughts. 

the sight of you looking up at him like that? with those lashes framing those stunning eyes? with your lips looking oh so plush? 

fuck, toto felt his knees nearly buckle.

there was no denying he wanted you. he craved you. often.

he desperately ached to feel you, to know what you felt like as he made you his. he yearned to feel that perfect pussy on his tongue as you bucked your hips, crying out for more. he wanted more than anything, to hear you beg. you probably looked oh so pretty when you begged. 

that night in jeddah, you were so fucking wet. you had nearly coated his fingers with it all. and it was all for him? 

“toto,” the way his name fell from your lips was like heaven itself, “will you stay tonight?”

“of course,” he nods, his voice nearly faltering as your hand massages his thigh, “f-fuck.”

“what?” you coo, meeting his gaze once more, “what is it, baby?”

baby. 

he was going to fuck the shit out of you. 

the buzz of a phone in his pocket startles you, earning a flinch. as it rings, the team principal lets out a string of curses, and you infer it was more than likely german. bringing the phone to his ear, he takes a step back, strolling over to the corner of the room. 

sighing, you roll on your side, back facing the team principal. 

the call was only about a minute, yet felt like an eternity.

“don’t tell me you’re pouting over there.”

“maybe i am.”

the bed dips underneath his weight, your heart fluttering as you feel his presence. the team principal is on top of you now, pinning you to the bed. 

“well quit it.”

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taglist: @toldyouitwasamelodrama @nebarious @whoisss @kravitzwhore @prettiest-at-the-party

[reiding-writing]

For the Christmas fic, how about bau!reader never celebrated Christmas properly cause she had like bad parents so Spencer decides to change that with the help of the team

RESTORATION — SPENCER REID!

you’re not a big fan of christmas. spencer enlists the help of the team to try and restore your festive spirit.

spencer reid x gn!reader | 1.5k | fluff | masterlist.

a/n — watch someone who doesn’t like Christmas, write about a group of people who do like christmas :)

You’re not sure how it happened, but suddenly, Christmas is everywhere.

Twinkling lights hang from every corner of the bullpen. Garlands wrap themselves around the stair railings like ivy. A Christmas tree towers near the kitchenette, its branches heavy with ornaments you suspect Morgan and Garcia argued over before agreeing on a theme. The air smells faintly of pine, cinnamon, and coffee, a warm combination that feels almost too comforting. Too safe.

You try not to let it bother you.

You never understood the hype around Christmas. Every year, you watched the world transform into a wonderland of twinkling lights and festivity, but for you, it was just another day. Another reminder of what you never had.

While other kids were unwrapping presents under the tree, you sat in your cold, quiet room, the sounds of your parents’ arguments drowning out the holiday cheer. Christmas wasn’t a celebration in your house—it was a chore, a duty, something to get through without breaking.

Even now, as an adult, you treat the holiday like it’s just another box to check. The gifts you give are practical and impersonal, and the ones you receive feel more like obligations than thoughtful gestures. You avoid the parties, the caroling, the incessant cheer. It’s easier that way.

At least, it was.

The BAU changed everything.

You weren’t prepared for how much they’d come to mean to you. They weren’t just colleagues; they were family in a way you’d never truly known. And Spencer… Spencer Reid is something else entirely. You can’t pinpoint the exact moment your feelings for him shifted, but now they’re impossible to ignore. Every shy smile, every ramble about quantum physics, every thoughtful gesture—it all leaves you wondering how you got so lucky to have someone like him in your corner.

Still, when he asks you about your Christmas plans during lunch one day, your walls go up.

“Oh, you know,” you say casually, taking a sip of your coffee. “Probably just a quiet night at home.”

Spencer frowns, his brow furrowing in that endearing way that tells you he’s already analysing your words. “You’re not a Christmas person?”

You shrug, trying to seem indifferent. “Not really. Christmas wasn’t… something my parents did growing up,”

That’s the understatement of the century, but you don’t elaborate. Spencer’s gaze lingers on you, and you can practically see the wheels turning in his head.

“Well,” he says slowly, “maybe it’s something we can work on,”

You wave him off with a chuckle, but the idea takes root in his mind anyway.

—

A week later, you’re finishing up paperwork when Spencer approaches your desk, his face lit up with excitement.

“Are you free on Christmas Eve?” he asks, his voice tinged with nervousness.

You blink, caught off guard. “I guess so? Why?”

He grins, his hands fidgeting with the strap of his messenger bag. “It’s a surprise. Just… trust me?”

You don’t have the heart to say no.

—

When Christmas Eve arrives, you find yourself in front of Spencer’s apartment, a mix of curiosity and apprehension swirling in your chest. You’re not sure what to expect, but the last thing you anticipate is the sight that greets you when he opens the door.

“Surprise!”

The entire team is there, the living room transformed into a Christmas wonderland. There’s a fake tree in the corner, its branches laden with ornaments and lights. Garland and tinsel drape over every surface, and the scent of cinnamon and pine fills the air.

Hotch is standing by the fireplace, looking uncharacteristically relaxed with a drink in hand, JJ and Will are helping Henry hang a candy cane on the tree, Garcia flits around in a sequinned Santa hat, arranging plates of cookies and snacks, and even Rossi is there, holding a glass of wine and smirking like he knows exactly how overwhelmed you’re feeling.

And then there’s Spencer, standing in front of you with that nervous, hopeful look that makes your heart ache.

“You did this?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nods, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “We did. You’ve never had a proper Christmas, and we thought it was time to change that.”

You look around, your chest tightening as the weight of their thoughtfulness sinks in. For a moment, you can’t speak.

“You guys didn’t have to do all this,” you finally manage, though your voice trembles.

“We wanted to,” JJ says, stepping over to hug you. “You’re family, and family deserves to be celebrated.”

The word family hits you like a freight train.

—

The night unfolds like something out of a movie.

You start with decorating gingerbread houses, a task that quickly descends into chaos when Garcia insists on bedazzling her roof with edible glitter. Morgan competes with Henry to see who can build the tallest chimney, while Rossi critiques everyone’s technique like it’s a cooking competition.

Spencer sticks close to you, guiding you through the process with his usual patience and a surprising knack for icing details. At one point, he accidentally smudges frosting on his nose, and the way he blushes when you laugh makes your stomach flutter.

Next comes dinner, a feast that Rossi and JJ clearly poured their hearts into. You sit between Spencer and Garcia, listening to Rossi’s stories and laughing until your cheeks hurt. Every now and then, you catch Spencer sneaking glances at you, his expression soft and fond in a way that makes you feel seen in a way you’re not used to.

Afterward, Garcia insists on a gift exchange. You’re hesitant at first, but when you open your gift from her—a beautifully wrapped box of handmade bookmarks featuring your favorite literary quotes—you can’t help but smile.

“How did you…?”

“I have my ways,” she says with a wink.

You’re equally stunned when Spencer hands you a small, carefully wrapped package. Inside is an antique copy of *Pride and Prejudice*, its leather cover worn but lovingly preserved.

“Spencer,” you whisper, running your fingers over the embossed title. “This is… it’s perfect.”

He shrugs, looking almost shy. “I remember you mentioned it was your favorite. I thought it deserved a spot in your collection.”

Your throat tightens, and for a moment, you’re sure you’re going to cry.

—

The night ends with everyone gathered around the fireplace, mugs of hot cocoa in hand as Jack preforms his reading of The Night Before Christmas.

You sit beside Spencer on the couch, his arm brushing against yours as he leans in to whisper little facts about the poem’s history. Normally, you’d roll your eyes at his need to share trivia, but tonight, it feels comforting. Familiar.

When the others start to leave, bidding you Merry Christmas with hugs and warm smiles, you linger by the door, hesitant to let the night end.

“You okay?” Spencer asks, his voice soft.

You nod, but the lump in your throat betrays you. “I just… I don’t know how to thank you for this. All of you.”

“You don’t have to thank us,” he says, his gaze steady. “You deserve it.”

The words are simple, but they cut through you in a way you don’t expect. Before you can second-guess yourself, you step forward and wrap your arms around him.

He freezes for a moment, clearly surprised, but then he relaxes, his arms coming up to hold you in return.

His cheek smushes lovingly against the top of your head, and it’s only once he catches the glimpse of white and green above the doorway that he pulls away.

Mistletoe. How cliché.

Spencer lets out a breath of a laugh as you follow his gaze with curious eyes, cheeks warming at the fluster on your face.

“Garcia must’ve put that there…”

You press your lips together between your teeth, a wave of heat rising to the tips of your ears as you glance back in Spencer’s direction.

But you’re not nervous. It’s almost domestic, the soft crackle of the dying fire across the room, the way Spencer’s arms linger innocently at your waist.

You cup Spencer’s cheek to bring it to your face, lips pressing deftly against the corner of his mouth.

“Merry Christmas, Spencer,” you whisper like you’ve run out of oxygen.

He smiles with his whole face, his voice warm and full of meaning. “Merry Christmas,”

[3igbootyl0ver]

who hurt you? [iii]

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: It's the day of the finals. Y/N finds out and confronts Amber over Tara's abuse, prioritizing her safety over the game.

word count: 2538

warnings: mentions of abuse, swearing, violence, angst

a/n: I'm bacccck muahaha. im already writing up the next part (which is also the last) and plan to upload it in a few days

part [i] | part [ii] | part [iv] | part [v]

It’s the day of the finals, and going up against your biggest rival in generations has your heart racing in anticipation. It’s also been a few days since you last approached Tara at school, and that was the last time you saw her. You can’t help but feel worried and concerned for her; she’s been barely attending classes or skipping school altogether this week.

“Let’s do this, guys! Let’s kick some fuckin’ ass!” Mindy shouted, hyping up the locker room as she smacked her fists together with a grin. The energy in the room was electric, with everyone feeding off the adrenaline coursing through their veins as upbeat music blared through the speakers. The roar of the crowd outside the locker room was muffled but unmistakable, a distant reminder of the stakes of today’s game. You glanced around at your teammates, their expressions ranging from determined to anxious. For a moment, you tried to shake off the nagging worry about Tara, but it clung to you like a shadow.

“Yo, you good?” Taylor, your closest teammate aside from Mindy, nudged your shoulder. She had that easygoing grin that usually put you at ease, but today, even her reassurance felt hollow.

“Yeah, just focused,” you replied quickly, though the lie felt heavy on your tongue. Your mind wandered again to Tara—how pale she had looked the last time you saw her, the distant look in her eyes. Something was wrong, and the fact that you hadn’t seen her since only made your chest tighten.

“All right, listen up!” Coach Melissa’s booming voice cut through the locker room chatter, bringing everyone to attention. “This is it. Everything we’ve worked for. Leave it all on the field. No excuses. Play for each other, play for the pride of this team, and play like you’ve got nothing to lose!”

The room erupted in cheers, but you could barely muster the same energy. The game was important, sure, but your mind was elsewhere. Tara’s absence was eating at you. Was she okay? Was there something you could’ve done earlier?

Just as the team surged forward, filing out of the locker room toward the field, you noticed a small figure leaving the bathroom near the lockers. You knew exactly who it was.

“Tara? Tara! Wait—wait!” you called out, watching her walk away as quickly as she could after seeing you approach. You managed to catch up to her, watching as she covered her face.

“Y/N, please—no, you can’t be here. Please don’t look at me,” she pleaded, her voice shaky as she began tearing up.

“Hey, hey, look at me. You’re all I ever want to look at. It’s me, Tara.” Gently, you pushed her hands away from her face, revealing a dark, purple blotch spreading beneath her eye, its edges tinged with hues of blue and red, like ink bleeding into paper. The smooth porcelain skin around it was swollen and tender.

Your heart ached at the sight. Who would do this? Who would hurt her? The thought alone fueled your anger, a fire rising in your chest, willing you to throw common sense aside and make whoever did this pay.

“Y/N, really, I’m fine. Can we please let this go—"

“Tara, who did this to you? Who hurt you? It was Amber, wasn’t it?”

Her pleading face failed to convince you. Her lips trembled, her eyes darting to the side as if searching for an escape.

“Y/N, please,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, but the desperation in it was unmistakable. “You don’t understand. It’s not what you think.”

Your chest tightened. “Not what I think? Tara, someone hurt you!” you said, your voice rising slightly, though you tried to keep it gentle. “You can’t just expect me to walk away from this. I care about you—I need to know.”

She bit her lip, her hands fidgeting at her sides as though holding back the weight of the world. “It was Amber, okay? Just... please don’t get involved. I’m handling it.”

“Handling it?” you echoed, disbelief lacing your words. “Tara, look at you! This is not okay. You don’t have to deal with this alone—and I swear I’ll—”

“Stop!” she snapped suddenly, her voice cracking under the pressure. Her hands clenched into fists, and tears began to spill down her cheeks. “Just stop, Y/N. I can’t... I can’t drag you into this. You don’t know what’s at stake.”

The raw pain in her voice made you freeze. For a moment, the words you wanted to say got caught in your throat. Instead, you reached out and gently cupped her face, your thumb brushing away a stray tear.

“Tara, I’m already in this. You’re my everything, and I’m not going to just walk away when you’re hurting like this.”

Her defenses crumbled, and she let out a shaky sob, leaning into your touch. “I’m scared, Y/N,” she admitted finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “If I tell you... if you get involved... she’ll come after you too.”

The weight of her confession hit you like a punch to the gut. Amber wasn’t just cruel—she was dangerous. But the fear in Tara’s eyes only solidified your resolve.

“Tara,” you said softly, firmly, “I don’t care what Amber thinks she can do. She’s not going to touch me, and she’s never going to hurt you again. I promise.”

For a moment, she stared at you, as if trying to decide whether she could believe your words. Then, slowly, she nodded, her fragile trust shining through her tear-streaked face.

“Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll tell you.”

“Let’s move, Y/L/N! Time to make history!” Coach called, clapping her hands and disrupting the moment. You were forced to reunite with the team, leaving Tara alone—but not without promising to meet her afterward.

You lingered for a moment, watching Tara walk away. The image of her tear-streaked face and bruised skin burned into your mind. No part of you wanted to step onto that field—but you didn’t have a choice.

-

The roar of the crowd grew louder, and the cool evening air hit your face as you stepped outside. As the team huddled before kickoff, you stole a glance toward the stands. You scanned the crowd almost instinctively, hoping—no, needing—to see her. But Tara wasn’t there.

The whistle blew, signaling the start of the game. You shook your head, trying to focus. Not now. You couldn’t afford to let your team down. But as the game began, you couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight wasn’t just about the finals—it was about something much bigger.

Throughout the match, rage surged through your veins like wildfire whenever you catch a glimpse of Amber in the opposition. Your knuckles turned white as anger threatened to consume you. Every movement she made on the field felt like a taunt, a reminder of the bruise etched on Tara’s face. It wasn't just the sight of her—it was the smugness in her posture, the way she carried herself, as if she were untouchable.

Your jaw tightened with each passing second, the fire in your chest roaring louder. The game became a blur of red-tinted focus, your mind oscillating between the need to win and the burning desire for retribution. Every fiber of your being screamed to confront her, to demand answers, to make her feel even a fraction of the pain Tara must have endured.

You barely registered the roar of the crowd or the calls from your teammates. Every step Amber took felt like a trigger, each glance in her direction fanning the flames of your fury.

The ball came into play, bouncing toward Amber. She sprinted for it, and something inside you snapped. Your focus tunneled, everything else fading into the background except for her. With every ounce of strength, you charged forward, your speed fueled by fury. Amber barely saw it coming. 

Your body collided with hers with bone-crunching force, the sound of the impact reverberating through the field. She went down hard, her body twisting awkwardly as she hit the ground with a sickening thud. A sharp cry of pain escaped her lips, silencing the crowd for a moment before the referee's whistle blared, cutting through the air like a blade. You stood over her, your chest heaving as adrenaline coursed through you. Amber clutched at her ankle, her face contorted in agony as she writhed on the ground. 

The sight of her in pain should have brought you satisfaction, but instead, it left you feeling raw—unleashed and unrelenting, like a dam had burst and you couldn’t stop the flood. “Y/N!” a teammate shouted, grabbing your arm and trying to pull you back, but you didn’t move. Your eyes were locked on Amber as she looked up at you, her expression twisted with shock and fear.

“You think you can just get away with it?” you spat, your voice low and trembling with fury. “You think no one will stand up to you?” Amber groaned in pain, clutching her leg as the medics rushed onto the field. The referee approached, yelling something about a red card, but it didn’t matter. All you could think about was Tara—her pain, her tears, and how Amber deserved every second of this. You turned to walk away, your chest heaving, but her voice cut through the air like a knife.

As they dragged you away, Amber propped herself up on one elbow, wincing but managing a sharp smirk. Her voice was hoarse but dripping with malice. “You think you’re some kind of hero?” she sneered, her words slithering through the air like poison.

“Tara begged for me to stop, you know. Pathetic how easy she breaks.” Her words hit you like a punch to the gut, your breath catching in your throat. Amber’s smirk widened as she saw the fire reignite in your eyes. “Face it, Y/N. You’re too late. You couldn’t protect her then, and you sure as hell can’t protect her now.”

Before you could stop yourself, you were on her. Words no longer sufficed—your anger demanded action. Shouts erupted from every direction as teammates and officials rushed in, trying to pull you back. The chaos blurred around you, hands grabbing at your arms, voices yelling, but none of it mattered. All you saw was Amber’s smug, twisted grin and the dark shadow of what she’d done to Tara.

It wasn’t until someone physically hauled you back, dragging you away from the scene, that the red haze began to fade. Amber lay on the ground, her face pale but her smirk still lingering, her laughter echoing in your ears even as they pushed you toward the sidelines. 

The crowd at the bleachers was a mic of shock and thrill. Gasps rippled through the stands, mingling with scattered cheers from those who seemed more amused than appalled by the fight breaking out on the field.

“You’re out, Y/L/N!” the referee barked, his voice furious. But you didn’t care. Your only regret was stopping.

Moments afterward blurred together: Coach Melissa’s stern voice echoing in your ears, the sting of disappointment as you trudged off the field, and the heavy silence as you made your way to the changing room. None of it made sense. You despised Amber- she’d been your high school rival for years— but imagining her hurting someone, hurting Tara? That was unthinkable and something you couldn’t have comprehend.

The sharp snap of fingers jolted you back to reality. Your coach stood over you, frustration etched on her face, while your teammates exchanged concerned glances. Blinking, you realized you had been sitting in the locker room, lost in a haze, as the first half of the match passed you by.

“What the hell was that, Y/L/N?!” Coach’s voice cut through the air like a whip. “Do you realize what you just did? You might’ve jeopardized our entire chance of winning! The team needs their captain—now!”

Your chest tightened, but frustration burned brighter than guilt. “She hurt Tara,” you snapped. “I don’t care about some stupid championship anymore!” The locker room fell silent, your teammates exchanging uneasy glances—some filled with concern, others still bristling over your actions. You took a shaky breath, willing yourself to stay composed. “Coach, I’m sorry for what I did,” you said, your voice quieter now. “But I can’t lead this team right now. Mindy’s your best option to take us to a win.” You stood straighter, forcing yourself to meet Coach’s eyes, determined not to let your emotions spiral further.

Coach Melissa took a deep sigh, her gaze lingering on you for a moment before hesitantly nodding. “Alright,” she said quietly, then turned to lead the team back onto the field for the second half.

As the others filled out, Mindy paused by the door, her brow furrowed with worry. She hesitated, then glanced back at you. “Do what you have to do, Y/N,” she said softly, her voice steady despite concern in her eyes. “I’m always by your side.” She offered a small, reassuring smile before disappearing into the hallway.

-

You found Tara sitting on the bleachers behind the school, far from the noise of the game. She was curled into herself, her knees pulled to her chest as she stared at the ground. The sight of her made your heart ache all over again, but it also steeled your resolve.

“Tara,” you called softly, walking toward her. She looked up, startled, her tear-streaked face lighting up with a mixture of relief and confusion.

“Y/N? What are you doing here? The game—”

“It doesn’t matter,” you interrupted, sitting beside her. “You matter. Talk to me, Tara. Please. Tell me what’s going on.”

For a moment, she hesitated, her lip trembling as she tried to hold back more tears. Then, as if a dam broke, she began to speak. She told you everything—about Amber’s threats, the fear she lived with every day, and how she thought keeping you out of it would protect you.

By the time she finished, your fists were clenched, your anger boiling over. But you forced yourself to stay calm for her sake. “Tara,” you said, your voice low but determined, “she doesn’t control you. She doesn’t get to hurt you and walk away like it’s nothing. We’ll deal with this. Together.”

She shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t know her, Y/N. She’s dangerous. She told me to wait for her here, please leave before it’s too late-“

“And I’m not afraid of her,” you replied firmly. “I won’t let her hurt you again. I don’t care what it takes. You’re not meeting her anymore.”

Tara looked at you, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and hope. “Do you mean that?”

“Always,” you said, reaching out to take her hand. “You’re not alone in this. Not anymore.”

Tara gave a shaky nod, though the fear never fully left her eyes. You knew this wasn’t going to be easy—not by a long shot. Amber wasn’t someone you could just confront and expect to back down.

 But for Tara, you would face whatever came next.

A loud shout from the field echoed in the distance, reminding you of the game. But right now, nothing else mattered. Your focus was entirely on Tara.

----------

a/n: I hope this is enough lol i'm never writing this much angst anymore its sucking the happiness out of me. any feedback is well appreciated and requests are open as well :p

taglist: @natasha25052

[axelsagewrites]

Hi, love your work!

Can i request modern!au Aegon X reader os, with a lot of fluff?

Battery Acid and $20 caffeine*Aegon

Pairing: modern!aegon x barista!reader

Word count: 900

Warnings: pure fluff, shy aegon

Masterlist here

Aegon didn’t even like coffee, yet he easily spent $30 on it a week. It all started when he kept yawning through an econ lecture and Erik all but dragged him to their campus’s coffee shack. He’d stayed up all night on a paper and his eyes barely stayed open on their walk over.

They snapped open though when a pretty smile greeted him. “What can I get you?” you smiled sweetly.

He tried to recover from his daze as his eyes glanced at the sign behind you. All the words looked jumbled up. Damn maybe he should sleep more. “Whatever you recommend,”

“You like sweet stuff?” you asked as you grabbed a cup and pen. Aegon nodded, scared the next thing he said in his sleep deprived state would ruin any chance he had, “Name?”

Fuck now he had to speak, “Um Aegon?” why did it sound like a question? He could hear Erik snickering behind him.

“Alrighty,” you just grinned as you wrote something down on the cup and passing it to your colleague, “That’ll be $7.24,” For coffee?? His eyes almost popped out his head, but he just awkwardly smiled as he paid. This better be one damn good cup of coffee which would be hard since he hated the stuff.

-

He did his best to force the Carmel sweetness down without making a face as he sat across from Erik. “Why not just ask her out?” he’d asked him, but Aegon gave every excuse under the sun, “Why do you think your cup got a heart and not mine?”

Oh god he was right. Maybe you wouldn’t laugh in his face if he went up and asked. “Fuck it,” he whispered before standing up, ignoring Erik’s attempts to hype him up as he walked to the counter.

Then it happened. Your shift ended. Your apron came off and you said bye to someone before walking out from behind the counter. You smiled at Aegon when you past him, but his mouth dried up and the only thing he could do was grab a sugar packet from the counter and trudge back to his seat.

-

The next day when he bumped into Helena after class and she told him she was going for a coffee he instantly invited himself, “You don’t even like coffee?”

“Maybe I wanna spend time with my lil sis?” Heleana just looked at him sceptically.

Unfortunately for him you weren’t there and the coffee he got still tasted like cardboard. “How can you drink this stuff?” he grimaced.

“Why did you order it?” she rolled her eyes before waving to someone behind him.

Aegon glanced over his shoulder and turned back with amber cheeks. “You know her?”

“Yeah?” Heleana shrugged, thinking her brother must’ve been possessed at this point, “She’s in my history of ancient civilisations class. do you know her?” Aegon just shrugged but a wide grin spread over her face, “Omg, you like her,”

“My god shut up,” he basically hissed, “Besides I don’t even know her name,”

“Not yet you don’t,”

-

After much begging Heleana agreed not to tell you about your secret admirer but the secret was wearing thin since despite drinking coffee constantly this month, Aegon still grimaced when he drank it.

He was sat at a high-top table on his laptop when you came over to clean off the last customers rubbish next to him. “You know the shop next door sells red bull?” you said, making him jump, “I’m just saying,” you laughed, “you never seem to enjoy the coffee here and it’s so expensive anyway,”

“I-I don’t mind it,” he stuttered, his cheeks tinging pink, “Besides it’s a good place to study,”

“What’s your major?” you smiled when it dawned on him.

oh shit, she was really talking to him. “Business, boring I know. What about you?”

“History, boring I know,” you joked.

“No, no I think its interesting,” he said, relieved not to be looking at his spreadsheets anymore, “What kind of history?”

“Mostly ancient stuff. We’ve just started our ancient Valarian unit. Did you know that-” your smile instantly dropped, “Shit my managers back,” you quickly turned to grab your spray from the table.

It was now or never, “Maybe you could tell me more about it sometime?” he stammered, his flush cheeks turning beat red when you smiled, “Over coffee or something?”

You laughed this time, “How about over a red bull in the park?”

-

What was supposed to be an hour or two long park date turned into a picnic when you hit the three hour mark of chatting with no signs of stopping. Your local shop came to the rescue with snacks and red bulls. “I can’t believe you drink this stuff,” you gagged as you sipped the glorified battery acid.

Aegon couldn’t help but chuckle, “Now you know how I felt,” After walking you to your dorm Aegon finally let out a sigh of relief. He’d got a cute girls number, she laughed at all his jokes, and most importantly he’d never have to deal with $20 coffee’s again.

Well, that was until you moved in together a year later and he spent $200 on a coffee machine just for him to make you your morning latte. It was all worth it though once he saw your smile. It was priceless to him after all.

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