#i have pictures on my phone but something about these is different

[harrysgal]

SOMETHING DIFFERENT

harry styles x yn stylist — social media AU

I’ve been stuck with I dig your cinema for a while now, so I wanted to do something different to distract myself and somehow came up with this. Idk I just went along with this idea I had in mind and stopped when I reached the 30 pictures. Of course that means I didn’t get to finish it yet, but here it is anyway. Sorry if it sucks.

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liked by someone, bestie and 87k others 

magazine EXCLUSIVE: Jessie Moss and Harry Styles have split after nearly five months of dating. 

“Jessie and Harry have spent a lovely time together, but ultimately they just weren’t the right fit for one another,” says a rep for the actress.

Read the full statement at the link in our bio.

view all 1,014 comments

harryone ???????? harrytwo i’m sorry but WHAT THE FUCK??  harrythree no way 😲   harryfour i’m so confused right now harryfive wasn’t he giving an interview and talking about her like a week ago?!  jessiefan1 well this sucks :( he really seemed to like her

harrysix this is ridiculous cmon. i fully refuse to believe it’s real harryseven first time he’s so public about a relationship and they just break up like this? OUT OF NOWHERE?

↳ harryeight that’s what i’ve been saying! the man was WHIPPED  ↳ harrynine this wasn’t mutual, i’ll tell you that much…. ↳ harryten also the fact that her fans are dead silent right now is soooo weird  ↳ harryeleven always knew she was too nice and cute to be true 

jandh4ever NO NO NO NO NO STOP  jandh4ever WHY WOULD THEY BREAK UP  jandh4ever THERE’S NO WAY THIS IS TRUE  jandh4ever NO WAY jandh4ever I DONT BELIEVE IT  jessiefan2 Guys, just read the article. Someone from Jessie’s team released the statement, so it’s real. They broke up, and that’s it. Let’s give them some privacy, it’s not our business. 

↳ harrytwelve i bet you’re all happy right now, arent you? you guys never supported harry as her bf even tho he was clearly really into her ↳ harrythirteen so true. what a despicable fandom 

harryfourteen oh boy :( hope they are both doing okay! 

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liked by harryone and 5,431 others 

harryupdates Harry in London today! 

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harryone baby was mad :( harrytwo no bc a fan said they didnt approach him bc they felt like he wasnt in the mood and i totally get them now harrythree he was supposed to be at the wedding, too :(  harryfour did you guys see that video on tiktok of someone saying they overheard him on the phone and apparently he was talking about jessie??

↳ harryfive yes but im not sure I believe them. I mean anyone can say anything just to get attention… 

harrysix this whole thing makes me so sad for him like he really doesnt seem ok :( harryseven the way he just turned around as soon as he saw the pap lol im laughing sorry

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liked by jessiefan1, jessieupdates and 35,891 others

magazine EXCLUSIVE: Jessie Moss spotted kissing longtime friend just one week after split from Harry Styles. 

The Golden Globe-nominated actress was spotted in her hometown attending her childhood best friend’s wedding—where she was also seen sharing a passionate moment with longtime friend Nathan Griffiths.

“It was meant to be,” a guest at the wedding shared. “We all knew. We were just waiting for Nathan to make a move.”

Another insider added, “They are really happy together. The timing is complicated, but they’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time.”

The photos surfaced just days after Moss’ team released a statement confirming the split. “Jessie and Harry have spent a wonderful time together, but ultimately, they just weren’t the right fit for one another,” a representative for the actress told MAGAZINE.

Read the full article at the link in our bio.

read all 3,681 comments 

harryone damn  harrytwo oh my  harrythree well… I guess now we know what happened 🧍🏻‍♀️ harryfour no bc for her team to release the statement so fast before the wedding means she KNEW what was about to happen harryfive I can’t believe she would do this to him???? harrysix has anyone checked on myparents on twitter? girl must be losing it lol harryseven I’m so sad and disappointed I don’t even know what to say 😞  harryeight i had a feeling the break up was suss but damn… i didnt know i would end up hating that girl jessiefan1 i hope my baby doesn’t get canceled :( nathan and her have been friends for so long… it’s not a surprise they’ve always been in love with each other 

↳ harryfive if she’s always been in love with him then why did she even start dating someone else??? ↳ jessiefan1 ＠harryfour i mean, have you ever been in love with a friend? it’s not that easy… i’m sure she didn’t know this would end up happening… 

jessiefan2 can harry’s fans please leave jessie alone? she’s never said one bad word about him and it’s not like she chose to hurt him on purpose 

↳ harrysix really??? have you read the article??? bc it surely seems everyone but harry knew about this ↳ harrynine she didn’t choose to hurt him but she definitely made sure to make herself available to kiss someone else 

harryten ngl i dont blame harry for never speaking about his relationships… look how messy this turned out to be  harryeleven at the end of the day, all I hope is that harry gets to live his happiest single era now… man def deserves it :( jessiefan3 I KNEW IT I KNEW IT OMG THIS IS THE HAPPIEST DAY OF MY ENTIRE LIFE harrytwelve god i hate her fandom so fucking much

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👤 nathangriffiths

liked by nathangriffiths, herbff, jessiefan1 and 301,957

jessiemoss sometimes unexpected things happen in the most unexpected ways 💖

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liked by jefezoff, harry_lambert, gemmastyles and 301,765 others

harrystyles I’m so happy to announce that ‘Love On Tour 2022’ is finally coming to the UK, Europe and South America.

Public on sale begins on Friday, January 28th. Check your venue website for further information about your show.

I’m so excited to see you. Thank you, I love you. H

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harryfan0 hii omg there you are :’) we missed youuuuu harryone YESSSS LET’S DO THISSSSS harrytwo 💘💘💘 can’t wait to see you!!!  harrythree there’s no better way to get over someone than to go on tour all over the world  harryfour baby really said who cares about my ex i have my fans im gonna visit all of them 🥲 harryfive all im saying is: singlerry in south america harrysix YESSS!!!!! take all my money i dont care it’s all yours i just want to see youuu harryseven hope you’re doing okay <3 we love you!

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liked by harryone, harrytwo and 2,376 others

harryupdates Harry leaving a club in London last night. 

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harryzero MY BABYYYY  harryone it’s been two months guys how did we even survive all this time without him :(  harrytwo man is looking gooooooooooddddd harrythree BOY LOOKS HAPPYYYYYY harrythree i bet he kissed the girl!!!!! 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨 harryfour SINGLERRY IS SO HOT AND I’M SO HERE FOR IT harryfive hope he’s having the time of his life <3

↳ harrysix sounds like he is… he was seen flirting with multiple girls all night hahaha  ↳ harryfour that’s what i’ve been saying: he’s in his single era and i’m here for it lol

harryseven looking good, single, and healthy 🔥 harryeight nathan who??? harrynine lmao jessie moss you will be regretting this loss for the rest of your life !!

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liked by harryone, harrytwo and 75 others

singlerry okay so no signs of harry out partying tonight BUT (!!!) it’s almost 3am in london and he JUST followed this girl on ig

view all 45 comments

harryone shut up 😯 are you serious? harrytwo pls !!! to be in harry’s mind at 3am harrythree some people are just so lucky harrythree some people are never me harrythree im never some people harryfour why do i feel like i’ve seen her before? 🤔

↳ harryfive because i’m pretty sure she’s the stylist that works with lambert ↳ harrysix she is, yessss! she was in LA when lambert styled jessie for those red carpets ↳ harryfour so she’s the one who styled jessie when lambert styled harry? ↳ harrysix yes! haha  ↳ harryseven what???

harryeight okay what’s the big deal? sorry i really dont get it  harrynine guys if she’s a stylist and works with lambert maybe it’s work related

↳ harryten i’m sorry but have you seen her profile?? that man did NOT follow her at 3 in the morning bc of work lmaoooo

harryeleven well idk about you but i just followed her, too 🥵harrytwelve i need more info pls i mean what’s the gossip here? he just followed, right? so…?

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liked by harrystyles, bestie, harry_lambert and 37,019 others

yourinstagram so sorry I haven’t checked my phone lately xxx

view all 105 comments 

bestie except to text me x

↳ harry_lambert and to text me x ↳ yourinstagram indeed x ↳ yourinstagram so if you need me contact my friends, please xxx

someone stunning as usual  sometwo girl that body 😭 share the secret i beg you harryone my jaw lays on the floor harrytwo I will not say it, I will not say it, I will not say it…  harrythree we see you harryyyyy harryfour harryyyyy!!! that was quick lolll  harryfive omg guys stop being embarrassing he’s not 12 give him at least some privacy??

↳ harrysix this is instagram… im pretty sure he knows he’s not going to be private here 🤷‍♀️ ↳ harryfive still!!! stop calling him out!!!  ↳ harryseven yeah… especially bc it could be just work related and here you are making things awkward… so please stop

harryeight girl at least follow him back 😭 poor guy jessiefanone why am I still following you? 🤮 jessiefantwo nathan didn’t like this post!!!!

↳ jessiefanthree no he didn’t!!!! ↳ jessiefanfour that’s the jessie effect!  ↳ jessiefanfive can you imagine knowing guys only care about you when the real ones aren’t available? so sad  ↳ jessiefansix also guys, our theories about what happened make so much sense it’s crazy 

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liked by harry_lambert, bestie, harrystyles and 27,651 others

yourinstagram this week was one of THOSE weeks. meaning I’ve been exhausted all day every day whilst feeling the luckiest on earth with the greatest job that I love more than anything in the world. 

thanks again ＠harry_lambert for bringing me in to your journey. I love you just as much as I love all my mini slutty skirts xxx

view all 56 comments  harry_lambert as much as the mini slutty skirts? 😯  harry_lambert damn that’s real babe, thank you harry_lambert also this is OUR journey x  harry_lambert and also I love you x bestie you two teaming up was the greatest thing that could’ve ever happened to me. I love you both ＠harry_lambert ＠yourinstagram  someone mother of the internet  sometwo the balance between posting work mode pics but still bringing the mini skirts up  cousin do you ever get a family discount or something?

↳ yourinstagram haha come over next week i might have something for you

harryone is he taking you on tour with harry, too? 👀 harrytwo not me checking if he liked her post (of course he did!!) and if she finally followed him back (no she didn’t!!) 

↳ harrythree girl ＠yourinstagram plssssss just follow him ↳ harrythree boy must be just waiting for the day he gets an interaction

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unfortunately only 30 pictures allowed...

[schemmentisimpasours]

Head Over Heels

Summary: Melissa faces the fact she doesn't want to spend a night away from you and may be actually head over heels for you. Anything to disguise the three words she actually wants to say to you

(AO3 saw it first cause I didn't have the spoons in me last night)

Previous chapter - next chapter

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You woke up to Melissa placing soft kisses along your back. You flipped your head to look at her staring at the beautiful redhead gazing down at you. You smiled which turned into a slight frown when you noticed that she was fully dressed. However your mood improved when you saw her holding a bag of food from the local bakery and two coffees on the makeshift coffee table by your bed.

“How did you get this?”

Melissa shrugged, “I know a guy who can be my own personal doordash driver if I cover food and an extra $20. I had to make sure you ate and you literally have… Nothing in this house. I think we ate the last bit of food with that bag of chips last night. I triple checked before I called him.”

“I did prewarn you of this,” you reminded her as you inhaled the coffee she placed in your hands.

“How am I supposed to take care of my girl and make sure she gets her meds before tutoring today?” Melissa said pulling out an assortment of breakfast foods, “Figured we could hang out till we both have to go to our summer side gigs as long as it is okay for me to borrow more of your clothes.”

You confirmed that of course she was allowed to have your clothes and the two of you started your breakfast in bed. By the time you were done you only had an hour left before you had to go tutor your first kid. You laid your head gently in Melissa’s lap trying to soak up the last couple moments of her before you both would separate for the first time in 3 days. She ran her fingers lazily all over your arms and back. You were used to seeing her at school every day when it was in session but ever since that first date you two had been inseparable.

“Why the photos on the wall without frames?” Melissa asked looking over at your collage.

You smiled glancing from each picture remembering the small memories, “It allows me to have more photos fill the space. I had to start doing it when I was collecting so many photos. I didn’t want to miss a single moment after Tara and I realized that our mom never really took pictures of us when we were younger. We have a couple that we got from our grandmother’s stuff but we really had to take it into our own hands at some point. Now anytime I need to feel more like myself I look at these pictures.”

“You don’t have any pictures of just us,” Melissa said noting that every other person on Abbott was accounted for. Sure there were pictures when the two of you were with Barb. But none just of her.

“You don’t like pictures,” You pointed out, “Barb practically has to drag you into every photo we take.”

Melissa acknowledged this with a nod of her head , “Touche but I think my mind has changed. I want more pictures with you. How else am I supposed to get through having Nonna up my ass all day if I can’t look at cute pictures of you?”

You laughed pulling out your phone, “Who knew about this soft side of Melissa Schemmenti?”

“Only you,” She grined, “Only you la mia ragazza.”

“Will you tell me that one?”

“My girl,” She said kissing you on the forehead, “Now pictures please.”

You spent the remaining time you had taking as many pictures as possible with Melissa as you could. She was getting into it switching to different poses till you alarm was going off saying it was time to get ready for work. You sent the pictures to her immediately and Melissa smiled trying to find which one would be her background. For her lock screen she settled with a picture of your head pulled back in laughter as Melissa pulled down your shirt to show off your hickeys. For the home screen she kept the photo of you rolling your eyes at her after she had said something sarcastic. You settled for a home and lock screen of you looking into the camera smiling oblivious of Melissa looking at you like the whole world revolved around the next thing you said.

Once you were both ready for work she kissed you long and hard outside your car promising to text you when she could. The rest of the day was a whirlwind of tutoring students the list seeming to grow longer by the second. By the time that you got back to your apartment you were exhausted and fucking hungry. On top of missing Melissa and only be able to message her a handful of times you were irritable. You groaned when you phone began to rang terrified it was going to be Ava claiming that you had to go out when you realized Melissa’s picture looking back at you. You had changed her contact photo to one of the less risky pictures of her under the fairy lights from the previous night. Even just the tiny glance at the photo made flashes of the previous night circle in your mind.

“Y/N how was your day?” Melissa asked as soon as you picked up.

“Long, I love teaching the kids so they don't fall behind when they get back to Abbott but it felt never ending today,” You replied, “How was Nonna?”

“A pain in my ass as always,” She laughed, “I was sitting here and remembered that we never got to try that Chinese spot by your place. Maybe we can try it tonight unless you are too tired….”

“Tonight sounds great,” You said trying to soothe the anxious Melissa, “My roommate is here but she is in her self proclaimed art vision modes so she probably won’t bother us.”

“I don't mind if she is there. I just… missed you. Does that sound weird?”

“No because I missed the hell out of you,” You laughed, “When will you be here?”

“Give me thirty minutes so I can pack a bag. Might as well spend the night while I am there,” Melisssa said and you could hear the excitement in her voice, “Text me what you want from Chinese.”

“See you soon baby,” You said before hanging up the call.

True to her word Melissa was knocking on the door thirty minutes after her phone call. Your roommate was the first one to answer staring worriedly at a Melissa with a box overflowing with food half of it chinese with the other half being disposable tupperware containers filled with her food. Slung over her shoulder was a small black duffel bag with the head of a shark stuffed animal sticking out of it.

“Hi, I’m Melissa. Demi’s mine… wait that came out wrong I am Demi’s girlfriend. She said that you were in the zone art wise and to apologize for interrupting I brought food. Homemade. It will help with the creative flow. I even meal prepped some of it so you don’t need takeout every day. I can leave the instructions on how to heat it up in the stove.”

At the worried shake of your roommates head she modified her statement, “I have instructions for the microwave I can leave you.”

Your roommate smiled and then opened the door further allowing Melissa entry. Melissa rushed to you to give you a quick kiss on the cheek before going to unload the food into the fridge. You hopped on the counter watching her intently as she labeled each one and applied a color coordinated sticky note with instructions on it. You realized how much she loved to care for people and how often that came across through cooking food. It was one of the many things that you adored about her.

When she was done pilling in the food she turned towards you slotting herself in between your legs. You wrapped them around her and draped your arms over her neck. She smiled up at you moving a loose curl back behind your ear. This was the moment that your roommate would capture for her most successful art exhibit.

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Six months later your roommate would hold an art exhibit called versions of love where her painting of you and Melissa in the kitchen would be the promo material. Titled Soulmate Love it captured the twinkle in Melissa’s eye as she looked adorinly up at you. The clear sexual tension from you dragging her close into you with your legs your fingers already finding their way into her red curls.It was everything that you loved about your relationship frozen into one single moment. It was a show stopper with everyone commenting on it and a bidding war to follow. Melissa and you were never able to get the actual picture but your roommate did print you off a large digital copy that you immediately hung up securely in a frame.

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“You brought food,” You smiled leaning to kiss your girlfriend, “More than just Chinese takeout food.”

“Look I couldn’t let that fridge just be full of alcohol and water,” Melissa laughed, “Plus you said your roommate was really in the zone and I wanted to pre apologzie for any disturbance we may cause her later.

You quirked an eyebrow, “Already trying to get into my pants baby?”

“Absolutely,” She smirked, “But first I want to try this Chinese food. Ask my girl how her day was. And give her a surprise. Now stay here I need to set up.”

You watched in amusement as she hauled the chinese food and her bag into your room before returning to you. You went to jump off the counter but instead she lifted you causing you to admit a loud squeal crossed with a scream. Clinging tightly to her neck she carried you across the hallway before throwing you down on the bed. As you landed she towered over you and you immediately felt yourself starting to turn putty for her.

“I can’t believe you just carried me in here.”

“Doubting my strength mio cuore?”

“Never again,” You assured her, “It was insanely fucking hot.”

“I am so wrapped around your damn finger tesoro,” Melissa said running her finger along your chin, “I can’t seem to get enough of you. All I thought about today was how I wanted to be wrapped up in your arms. The only place that feels safe lately.”

“I'm glad you are here now. I am always willing to be your safe place,” you smiled , “Now tesoro?”

“In that instant it was sweetheart but it can also mean treasure. I'm trying to try out new nicknames on you,” she winked, “Again totally head over heels it’s embarrassing.”

“It's cute and the feeling is very much mutual.”

“Felt unfair that you saying baby can make me want to cum on the spot and I don’t have the same type of nickname for you,” She said kissing down your neck.

“Because you keep me constantly on edge with all the touching that I feel like at any moment I am going to come undone,” You laughed before letting out a small moan.

Melissa hummed in satisfaction before pulling away, “Now remember don’t get too excited. The order of how things are getting done today are Chinese food. Ask about day. Surprise. Then getting in your pants.”

You rolled your eyes and sat up allowing Melissa to pile food into your lap. As you ate you shared stories of your days. The kids who missed Ms. Schemmenti and the ones who tried to eat glue straight from the container. Melissa smiled and added to your stories with all of the random things Nonna had made her and the fact that she talked about you constantly. Which made you smile.

When the food was gone you got up to throw it in the trash in the living room. Your roommate was frantically working over a canvas in a way that you had never seen before. She was using one hand to plaster paint over the empty spaces with the other one shoveling Melissa’s meals quickly into her mouth. You smiled at the sight before making your way back to your room.

“I think you officially won over my roommate, this is the most focus I have ever seen her.”

“Great my plan for tonight is all falling into place,” She laughed and then pulled out a stuffed animal shark from behind her back, “Look I didn’t have time to wrap it because Nonna was basically kicking me out the store but I saw this and knew that you need it.”

You squealed with joy grabbing it from her arms and hugging it close to your chest, “I love it baby. Thank you so much.”

Melissa felt her heart warm as she watched you with your new stuffed animal that you added onto the pile at the head on your bed. She had been so worried about randomly getting you something. Joe had never liked anything Melissa bought on the whim telling her to only pick things up on a pre designated list. Seeing the pure joy on her face made her fall even more for you. She wouldn’t call it love. Not yet when it was so brand new and she was still worried that she would ruin it all. But she was so wrapped around your finger that she knew earlier that night sleeping apart from you would have been hell.

“Baby,” You said pulling Melissa out of her trance, “Whatcha thinking about?”

“That you move a lot in your sleep and during sex,” She said making you laugh.

“I don’t hear you complaining about either,” You joked.

“Not complaining but one day you will be tied down on my bed,” She grinned wickedly.

You blushed sending her a small eye roll, “Tie me down all you want baby. At the end of the day you know I will always be the top.”

“As if! I remember what that was when you were walking me through urban dictionary, if anything you are switch leaning bottom.”

“Prove it then,” She said biting your lip.

Melissa’s eyes darkened as she set to prove out how right she was.

[runningincircl3s]

Is Vinny a jealous guy? If he broke it off because of how in love he was with you but then you started dating another guy what would he do? Would he blow up your phone? Happen to show up where you were? Just something I was thinking about.

OOOOH OKAYY THIS GOT ME THINKING!! I NEED TO WRITE THIS RIGHT NOW….

Maybe you worked for the band as a makeup artist, a photographer, or you were just part of Vin's friend group. Either way, you and Vinny had something going on. It was inevitable, he was funny, had a great personality, good looking... how could you not fall in love with him.

You weren’t exactly a couple, but you weren’t just friends, either. And as soon as he realised how much you meant to him, how much he loved you, it terrified him.

So he broke it off. Told himself it was for the best. That it was easier this way.

But then he sees you with someone else... And suddenly all that logic goes out the window.

He tries to act unbothered, like he isn't jealous. Tries to keep his eyes anywhere but on you, jaw tight, fingers drumming against his leg like he couldn’t care less. But the second he catches you laughing a little too hard at your new guy’s joke? The way your hand lingers on his arm?

Oh he’s seething.

And if there's one thing to know about Vinny, it's that he is PETTY!!

If you’re moving on, then so is he- at least, that’s what he wants you to think. He’ll make damn sure you see him with someone else, getting too close, whispering in her ear, letting his hands rest just a little lower than necessary. Acting like it’s effortless. Like you were nothing more than a passing phase.

But that was far from the truth.

Because if he had moved on, he wouldn't notice everything. Like that new necklace you’re wearing? He wonders if it was a gift. That new band you suddenly love? You hated them before, so who got you into them? And you were dressing differently now, did he make you change?

He tells himself he doesn’t care.

So he won’t text you all day. Won’t even look in your direction when you're in the same room. But then it’s 2am, or he’s a few drinks in, and suddenly, his self-control is gone. Suddenly, your phone is lighting up with texts and missed calls.

And maybe one night, to his surprise, you actually pick up.

You can hear it in his voice that he was drunk, his speech slurred as he spoke. "Shit… sorry. Meant to call Ricky."

(He did not mean to call Ricky.)

Or maybe if you didn't answer, you'd wake up to a new voicemail,

"Hey, so uh… just wondering if you still have my shirts. If not, whatever. Keep them. Actually, no, don’t! I want them back."

And if you don’t respond to him? That’s fine. He’ll just post a cryptic tweet, maybe some song lyrics that definitely aren’t about you, maybe you'll see him liking and commenting under other girls pictures. Maybe he even posts a picture with what appears to be another girl.

Then he deletes it ten minutes later.

But if you were to text him first? He’ll leave you on read for hours, maybe even days. His attempt to make you feel just a fraction of what he’s feeling. But the moment you stop reaching out? There he is, sliding into your DMs with dumb memes, sending you things with “this reminded me of you.”

Maybe it’s at a party, or after a show, but eventually, something sets him off. Maybe your new guy has his arm around you. Maybe he’s whispering something in your ear. Maybe he's making you laugh like you used to laugh with him.

And he just can't help himself anymore.

When he watches your new guy walk away, he approaches you with a smug look on his face, leaning in just close enough for you to hear him, his voice low and taunting as he asks,

"He seems nice. Does he know that's my hoodie you're wearing?"

[buwheal]

YAYYYYYY Birthday cake for the birthday boooyyyyyy hooray 46!!!!!!!!!! Made him a cake cause he deserves it :^D

#1 Salesman 1997 !!!!

....look familiar perhaps..?

[icewindandboringhorror]

I know this is just a silly bad quality random screencap of a screencap that I found on facebook lol, BUT it's a succinct enough image to easily describe the concept in a quick/accessible way hopefully :

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(and of course, feel free to elaborate in tags, etc.! (especially elaborating about other senses as well.. can you "hear" in your mind just as well as you can "see"? taste? etc.) It's an interesting topic to me, as someone who's like a 4.5 at MOST lol. I'm curious what option will be the most common :0c )

[angelfic]

jason todd x reader

warnings — mentions of size/body image, jason being insecure… and also sexy. also this is unedited as per usual. other than that, nothing!

a/n; im gonna bite his bicep like that’s all i have to say. enjoy <3

JASON TODD is huge.

the man is over 6 feet of pure muscle so it doesn’t matter how tall you are, he’s bigger than you and he’s very aware of it.

when he’s red hood, being so large is a tactical advantage. he feels strong and in charge and practically unbeatable.

when he’s jason, he feels uncomfortable and noticeable and that’s the last thing he wants or needs. he doesn’t stop working out, because not only does he need something physical to relieve his stress, but he also can’t afford not being jacked as fuck. how the hell else is he supposed to be as scary as he is as red hood.

instead, he overcompensates by wearing darker colours, slightly oversized hoodies, not always standing up at his full height. it doesn’t do that much, the sheer size of him is a little hard to fully hide, but it makes him feel a little better.

when you come into the picture, things slowly start to change.

every time he hugs you, it’s instantly a mood booster for you because of how safe it feels with his arms wrapped around you, shielding you from the world for a few minutes. the way you sigh and melt into the hug has him smiling, a little shyly, as he holds you closer.

whenever you need him to get you something off a high shelf, he happily obliges and loves feeling useful. more than that, he loves how you always thank him by gently running a hand down his chest. “what would i do without you?” you say, sincerely, because you know he needs to hear it sometimes. and when you drop a kiss to his forearm as he sets the object down, he’s suddenly glad that he’s taller than you and he starts standing a little straighter.

the first time you hold up his hand against yours to compare sizes, you find yourself grinning at the difference. jason finds himself thinking about how small your hand is instead of how large his own is. and when you interlock your fingers with his, that’s all he’s focusing on.

sometimes, when your eyes are locked on your phone as you’re walking the busy streets of gotham and letting jason guide you around with your hand in his, he’s having to grab your waist to stop you bumping into someone or something. “careful,” he mutters, but his mind has gone blank and all he’s thinking about is his large hands around your waist and his pulse is racing. he feels like a creep until you turn around to give him a sheepish smile and thank him, placing your hands on his to keep them around your waist. he doesn’t miss the way you’re glancing down and biting your lip.

with jason around, you never have to do any heavy lifting, but of course you’re going to try sometimes. when you buy a cute new coffee table and it arrives when he’s out on patrol, you physically can’t wait to open and buid it. that bit is easy enough, but you find yourself cursing when you realise you stupidly built it on the other side of the room. “uhm, what do you think you’re doing?” jason asks, leaning in the doorway, red hood helmet in between his arm. you’re breathing heavily, arms pinned awkwardly at your sides as you were trying a new approach of throwing your body weight against the table to shift it. you slump, looking up at him with a pout.

“it’s heavier than i thought,” you admit. jason crosses the living room in two giant strides.

“you’re gonna hurt yourself,” he says, lifting the entire thing with both hands on either side and effortlessly placing it in front of the couch. he looks at you for approval in case you want it elsewhere and finds that you’re staring at him, slack jawed. he frowns, crossing his arms over, vigilante suit still on. “what…?”

“that was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” you say, shamelessly. he grins, shaking his head at the way you’re completely serious, but the blush on his cheeks gives him away. “no, seriously, you need to run before i pounce on you.”

his favourite thing is your habit of falling asleep on him when you’re watching tv and he often needs to pick you up to take you to bed. sometimes, you start to stir, halfway to the bedroom and you sleepily blink up at him before wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his jaw. “you’re so strong,” you mumble against his shoulder, your voice soft with drowsiness. jason’s heart clenches.

jason starts standing at his full height just so he can see you craning your neck to look at him, giving him the excuse to lift you up onto the counter which often results in you wrapping your legs around his waist and engaging a make out session.

he starts to wear t-shirts instead of large hoodies when he goes to the gym, just so he can hear you wolf whistle as he walks to the door, running over to kiss him goodbye and giving his biceps a squeeze.

day by day, jason finds himself more comfortable with just being him. and he’s even happier than he gets to be himself with you.

a/n cont.; the red hood mask stays ON during sex

[tojisteddy]

Acknowledge Me

or: Simon finally gives you attention after you piss him off.

“The power it takes, to make me cry that way. Baby, I hate me when you get under my skin.”

cw: 3.6k words (lord), 18+ MDNI, Toxic!Simon/Meanie!Simon, smut with plot, daddy kink (daddy, pa), dubcon, p in v, dacryphilia, degradation (like hell), water park amusement, pvssy slapping, creampie, marathon!, intoxicated sex, pet names (lovie, doll, pup), overstim, orgasm denial, straight debauchery, after care, y/n visuals.

a/n: acknowledge me by doja cat was the big inspo.

Were you a fucking stupid brat?

Or were you simply itching for attention that you deserved?

If you told your friends, they wouldn’t call you a fucking brat. Stupid? Yeah.

For being with a man who didn’t hesitate to curse you out when you annoyed him. Simon Riley didn’t even flinch when you started hearing those hiccups over the phone, he could already picture your trembling bottom lip, huffed out cheeks and tears forming at your water line. If anything it pissed him off further.

“Don’t fuckin try it with those tears [+]. I fuckin told you, you tell me where the fuck you’re goin. Why the fuck did I have see you move to five different bars in three fuckin hours and you didn’t say a word to me about it till now!?” Simon yelled through the phone.

“You and your dumb ass friends are too fuckin reckless—“

“—Don’t call them that-“ you chided.

“-Oh, I promise you lovie, I don’t give a shit.” his voice with venom.

For fucks sake, it was supposed to be a fun night out and if you were one of your friends, it would’ve been. You and your friends loved bar hopping, enjoying the vibe wherever you went and free alcohol that men and women would order for you. You don’t remember how many bars ago, but your phone died somewhere in the middle and you did spend about five minutes at the last 6 bars trying to find an outlet before your friends dragged you away to the dance floor. That had to count for something, right? You did try to get some form of life on your phone for thirty minutes!

You’d finally gotten to an outlet, right next to the fucking bathroom. ‘15 missed called 4 new messages.’ A string of curses leaving your mouth once you dialed that memorized phone number. And there Simon was, talking to you out the ass while the music was booming in the distance, you had your phone in one hand and a finger in the other trying to hear him properly, the smell of only-god-knows from god-knows-what filling your poor nose all so you could attempt to fix your accidental boo-boo :( — but that bastard had to have you crying in the club.

Like you were thirsty for his attention. you were.

No, none of this was your fault. You didn’t need to update the 6’4, blonde, hunk of a damn brat, when he hadn’t even bothered to contact you in a month.

Yup, the ghost was actually known for ghosting you.

Purposely declining your calls, leaving your texts on read or worse: replying with a ‘k’ when you tried to meet up when you knew (least for the most part) he kept to himself. When he was stationed near by, he was at his own fucking house minding his own business. He was the worst. And the cherry on top?

The fucker had your location on.

You swore he did this to get a rise out of you, to see you teetering off the brink of sanity— and you had to attempt to reel yourself back in every. fucking. time. You weren’t his little plaything, you didn’t need him.

“Don’t fuck with me.” you mumbled, salty tears hitting your mouth. Those would be the last for the night, you swore it. It was like the liquor finally left your heart and went to your brain. Liquid courage.

“What’dyou just say t’me?”

Louder, “I said, don’t fuck with me! I’m sick of your shit Simon!” You snapped. You weren’t an angry person, you’d just hit an annoying wall you needed to get though. The annoying wall called Ghost Riley.

“You always- always come out of the fucking blue ‘nd think you tell me what to do! I’m not a fucking idiot, I know what the fuck I’m doin! Don’t be bitchy at me cause I like to have a little fuckin fun with my friends even when you’ve been ignoring me. Fuckin ignoring me instead of telling me what’s up! The fuck do I gotta do to get you off my dick?!”

“You like the messy shit, Si! You like seein me pissed at you just so you’re the one who has to come and fix it! I can’t stand it. You should go find a bitch who likes that shit because I don’t! I hate how I feel right now and I hate that you can’t be one of those kind boyfriends who’ll come and fuckin hold me nice and shit! Hell, maybe I’ll go find someone to hold me realll nice like since you fuckin won’t!” You spat, nose flaring, you were trembling with rage.

“Pup,” one word. Cut throat. Yanking you right back down to reality. “You take your pretty ass home, ‘nd I’ll go easy on you, yeah?”

You felt your chest rising and falling rapidly, you were frustrated that he clearly didn’t listen to your little rant but you felt your panties get damp. Just a bit. Just like always when you saw a punishment coming. You couldn’t help yourself.

“I-“

“—She’s busy right now please leave a message after the beep. Beeeeeeep.” Your friend, Sharon, has snactched your phone out of you hand, quickly interjecting your conversation with the man and hanging up. She hiccuped, nodding her head in satisfaction.

“You can’t spend the whoooole night by this stinky ass bathroom. Let’s go daaaaance, or-or drink.” She giggled, taking your hands. “Or both!” She squealed at her own words.

Fuck it.

You went out with your friends so you could have a good time, and that’s exactly what you were going to do.

Simon had such a nice way of breaking you down to your knees, so you were the one sobbing and begging then bringing you back up. He didn’t do it often, he wasn’t that fucking mean, but he did it when you really pissed him off. Simon needed you to understand— you weren’t in charge. He was. The man doesn’t remember exactly what you did to piss him anymore, it had been a long and grueling month for him anyway. But he had to follow through with something because he’d be damned if he had to actually apologize, you being with your idiot friends didn’t help your case. So he threw it in the melting pot of why he had a right to bully you.

The motherfucker couldn’t help himself.

When he entered your empty and annoyingly small studio apartment, he added another mark to his ‘reasons to fuck babygirl up’ list. He told you to take your sweet ass home, didn’t he? And where were you?

He’d make sure the neighbors knew exactly who the fuck he was.

It should’ve been easy for you to check in, no? He worried about your safety above all else, but it always seemed to fly out the window when you were with your friends who were notorious and extreme party girls while you just went with the flow. He didn’t not like them sober, it’s when you went clubbing you, for some reason, would get hard headed, defiant. It pissed him off, which would always lead to an argument. Usually he’d come snatch you up while you were tipsy, you’d have a cry in the car, mumbling something about how you just knew the man didn’t like you or take you serious.

And partially, Ghost didn’t. He brushed your insecurities away at first, thinking nothing of it as you went about your life. But you kept being on edge drunk or sober. So he would be right there, finger fucking you otherwise while the car was still in motion. And maybe you were right, maybe he wasn’t the sweet and soft boyfriend you wanted who’d hold your cute little hand when you made him angry. He wasn’t the type to coddle you, chicken peck your face with kisses when you felt down. Simon Riley was the gruff and overbearing man you needed to set you straight, keep you grounded when the world went to shit.

That’s what your cute little tantrum was about, least part of it was. Simon knew he was distant, you just needed a reminder he was yours and you were his. And only his. You craved him like you needed food, it was obvious to anyone who saw you two together. He chuckled, couldn’t believe you even suggested fucking some other man. As if they could handle you, as if they knew what you needed.

He’d set that attitude straight.

The shower was running when the front door of your flat closed behind you. There’s no way you left it on this whole time, did you? You didn’t remember. The night turned into a long one.

No, you didn’t get black out drunk like your friends suggested. You had another shot or two, deciding to stay on the sober side with your DD. You two did smoke a fat blunt before hitting another club though, that made you feel like you were starting to lose your hearing. But it mellowed you out completely. The anger you felt, all that angst and sadness? Gone like a snap of your fingers. The person who was yelling and crying earlier? Technically it wasn’t you, you just needed a little peace. A little medicinal help.

After singing and dancing as hard as you could, your drunk friends taking blurry photos and videos of you that you’d probably post later, you persuaded them it’d be best to get something to eat and head home around two am. It took thirty minutes to find a convenience store that was open so you could chow down on something, and fifteen to get home. With a basically empty bag of chips in one hand, purse slung over your shoulder like a duffle, a bag of junk food in your other hand, low red eyes and a small smile— you finally got home.

You’d deal with that asshole tomorrow. Or next week— maybe next month if you gave enough of a fuck like he did.

Who knows.

You sat the bag of food on the coffee table, right now the priority was your skin care routine, then eat, then zonk out till 2 pm. You still can’t believe you left the shower and the bathroom light on that was now blinding your eyes but whatever. You’d turn it off as soon as you were done since it was warm due to the slight steam.

Routine, routine, routin— you stumbled over a pile of clothes. Large male clothes— okay, maybe you were in the wrong apartment.

Not your first rodeo.

You’d just slowly back out and try looking for your apartment. No big deal.

But the shower curtain swung open and you tripped over the clothes, falling right on your ass with a yelp.

“Ya can’t be that fuckin drunk, can ya?”

Your eyes darted open, right at the familiar deep cockney accent— Simon Riley was right there in the flesh, water dripping down his scarred and large body, making him dazzle like a God in that fucked up bathroom light.

Now that was blinding.

“Hello? Are ya listenin?”

Oh, he really wanted an answer.

“ ‘M not drunk.” You said breathlessly. Intoxicated? Yes. But not drunk. The shots had worn off ages ago. Hell, maybe your high was too at the sight of this brute.

What the fuck was he doing here?

The blonde ignored the confused look on your face. Taking a towel that sat on the sink and drying his hair. No point in drying off anything else, he was about to sweat.

So were you.

Simon continued on, stepping past you and you quickly got up, following right behind him like a starved puppy. For someone who hated your apartment, he sure walked around like he owned the place. Nude, large cock swinging, and the look of annoyance written on his handsome unmasked face.

He sat on the bed, manspreading nonchalantly. Knowing you were looking at it, your eyes immediately went elsewhere.

“What do you want?” You mumbled out, shifting from foot to foot.

As if you didn’t know what was bound to happen.

The older man laughed, sarcasm dripping down his throat.

“Be good ‘nd strip, won’t repeat myself.”

“Si-Simon!” Your breath hitched once a large hand came down on your ass, once for good measure.

“Who?” He slapped his thick member on your ass, sliding it through the crevice of your cheeks.

“But- but Simon-“ another slap.

“You’re gonna make it worse for yourself, call me proper.” He smacked his cock over your glistening folds. So fucking wet.

“Daddy mmph,” You moaned.

“All this ‘b-b-but’ bullshit from ya. You’ve pissed me off more than enough. You’ll take all of it today.” Simon slipped inside your hole, filling you to the brim even with half of that girthy cock in you. You both hissed, fuck, it was always so good when he was inside your walls. Simon slowly started to rock his hips into you, slowly but surely making sure you took every inch if his manhood had to offer.

It was when he bottomed out, you knew you were in for it. Simon wasn’t talking to you, he forced your head down on the bed, forcing your back to arch further as he thrusted right at your spot. Over and over and over.

“Gonna cum pa, gonna cum.” You stuttered, feeling the pit in your stomach starting to turn.

“No you’re not.”

“—But—”

“I dare you [+]. I know you’d just looove seein how that turns out.”

You hiccuped, tears brimming as Simons pace got faster. You could feel him throbbing inside you but he wouldn’t cave. He was making the both of you suffer over a petty argument— a mistake that in any normal relationship wouldn’t be that serious.

“I- no- anngh— I need to cum—”

“-You don’t need shit you greedy. fuckin. bitch.” He grunted, swatting your ass with every thrust.

The man yanked you up by your tosseled hair, “You had your oh-so lovin Daddy fuckin worried about’cha so you can be safe then when I finally get a hold of ya ‘nd tell you to go home, you ignore me. Threatenin to go fuck some idiot, but he couldn’t fuck you like I can? Can he? Can’t keep you pretty ‘nd upright? Can he?” His hand trailed from your throat to the buldge at your stomach. He scuffed, “now you’re itching t’cum just because I have my cock right here in ya? Fuckin dumb bitch shit,”

“You a dumb bitch?” He asked, making sure you were fucking him back. Ripples forming on your ass with every thrust.

“Noooo.” You cried out, trying to get away but it only made the brute dig into you further.

“What?”

“No sir.”

“Thaaats right princess. You're my smart little girl, listen to me next time. Good on you- fuck— for tryin to salvage yourself.” He huffed.

You didn’t realize your own toes curling at that small praise, your body trembling as you reached your peak.

“Hold it, did you just fuckin cum? When I told you not to?” He growled, forcing you to look at his eyes that were practically red with anger.

“Wait, wait, wait.” You really couldn’t help yourself, you’d been holding it for how long? And you were still kinda high which made you feel the sensations ten fold, Simon was drilling into you like no tomorrow and then he gave you an inch of kindness after being so mean to you this whole fucking time.

Your body unconsciously took a mile.

“Nope.” He yanked you back to lay your back on him, the rest of his drenched length in you, and lifted your leg so it was over your head, legs parted like the red sea. The first smack on your cunt for the night had you screaming, water spraying out.

Simon gripped your chin, forcing you to look down at the mess you created while harshly rubbing your pearl, still thrusting into you from behind, “You wanna act like a greedy bitch and think with your pussy? Then you cum like a greedy fuckin bitch. Cum you dirty pup.”

And he kept smacking down on your poor cunt, unable to stop yourself from cumming and squirting. Completely creaming Simons girthy cock so that a ring of cum formed around the base of his length.

“Daddy I can’t-“ you keened.

The man scowled, “-Shut. the fuck. up. You never shut the fuck up, the only thing I wanna hear is how fucking wet that pussy is. Keep fuckin cummin like a dirty slut you are.”

And you did.

You were wetting the bed like a dog. Water flying everywhere with every thwack of Simons hand on your abused and misused clit. You didn’t even know how many times you had cum by that point. Words? What were those? You wouldn’t even be able to read a street sign or name your favorite color if asked.

You were seeing pure white, the only thing you could hear was the loud squelching of Simon pumped himself in and out of you. He pulled out for a second causing you to whine at the loss of him, but he slipped back into your tight walls, fucking you in a nice missionary.

He gave your face a few light smacks to the face, tutting “Ah, ah, ah, pup, don’t you fuckin pass out. Eyes on Daddy.”

You managed to pry those long lashes open, hooded and lower than they could ever get when you were high.

“Therrrre my pretty girl is. Look so good bein fuckin stupid on my dick doll. This is alllll my girl needed. A good lesson, yeah? Remind ‘er who’s boss, huh?” He smirked, dragging himself down to you so your legs were at your chest.

“Shit baby, feel you squeezing down on me. Wanna cum with me? Missed me given it to ya just like you always need?” Oh, you were crying again. Yeah, you did miss his mean ass.

And his mean beautifully scarred up face, the mean way his muscles flexed when he did anything, his stupid fucking mouth that had to say some stupid shit touching your full lips, his disgustingly sexy muscular yet pudgy stomach with a happy trail touching your stomach everytime he wrapped those arms around you. His massive presence when he stood next to you, mean brown eyes watching while you did your hair, your makeup, or got dressed. Heartless hands that rubbed your neck everytime he didn’t know how to comfort you because that asshole trying his hardest to understand you.

And that undeniably cruel, overly massive cock fucking you like you were the final girl getting a well deserved an award for making it out the trenches in a horror film.

Your head was full with the thought of daddy, daddy, daddy— you shook your head but you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders. You hung on to whatever bullshit that man gave you. Only him. Always him.

“Wan- I wan it pa! Wan your cum in me.” you babbled through your sobs.

“Course ya fuckin do. Can’t do shit without me.” The older man crooned. He finally planted his lips on yours, you moaned at just the feel. Pink walls fluttering in ecstasy as he filled you to the brim. Slow thrusts making sure he pumped everything he had into your perfect cunt.

So much for not crying anymore.

The only sound you could be heard in that studio was you cries, like a fucking baby, bouncing off your thin walls. The headboard was finally able to rest, you knew for a fact your neighbors probably despise your being now.

“Why didn’t you- you come see me? I wanted- hicc- I wanted to see you. But- but- you wouldn’t come see me! Wouldn’t even talk to me on the phone,” You sobbed, tripping and falling through your words. “you must hate me.”

The older man rolled his eyes, “Didn’t ever say tha’. How can I hate’cha ‘nd your mine? Doesn’t make sense mama.”

“Didn’t call me though.” You were sprawled out on the bed now, fat tears escaping your eyes. The blonde was sitting on the bed, grabbing the bottled water that he kept in the nightstand, opening it and putting it to your lips to drink. You did, lifting just enough for a bit to go down your bound to be sore throat and flopping back on the bed.

“Was busy swee’art.” Half truth, half lie. Though it was habit, he was trying to keep you in the loop of his life this time. But old habits die hard. The man forgot to reply. His work schedule was fucked, and he was busy spending his free time moving house. The house he planned to give you, it just wasn’t ready yet. Simon was actually being good for you, for once.

“You’re not always busy Si, you just don’t like my annoying voice!” You whimpered.

It took everything in the older brute to not laugh, you were bein so fucking cute. Babbling nonsense but still clinging to him like a lifeline. Still wanting, still his baby girl.

“Told ya, you weren’t annoyin. Got a nice voice, so get it out silly skull.” He cooed, sitting you on your bottom to face him.

You sniffed, moaning and groaning in annoyance but choosing to accept those words. And only those though.

“Fucks sake, Stop it.”

“I caaaant.” You whined, profusely wiping your tears.

“No, dummy.” Simon pushed your hands off your own face, gently wiping the tears with his thumbs that continued to poor out, “Yer gonna throw a fuckin fit if your face ends up bein puffy cause you wipe your tears so damn rough. Take it easy.”

No one knew how to wipe your tears better than the man who created them.

“I wanna make up, you don’t want to?” That was as close to an apology you’d ever get. Always.

A proper Ghost apology was rare as is and you wouldn’t be getting that after your little tantrum tonight. So you ate up what you could get.

“I wanna- I wanna make up too Daddy.” You croaked, dragging out your words. Adorable princess.

“Pfft,” he ruffled your now messy, sweated out hair, “I gotcha.”

“Up you go.” Like a feather, Simon lifted you from the bed, walking to the bedroom you too had been at who knows how many hours ago. He gently sat you on the counter of the sink,

“Let’s get you all ready for bed, yeah?”

a/n: I really love meanie!Simon the most. Let me know what you think about him.

[connorsui]

Marked in Metal

Caleb... loves ... buying you rings.

It wasn’t something you directly questioned—at least, not seriously. He had always been like that, always finding little things to slip into your life as a form of joy. Bracelets, necklaces, little earrings here and there.

But ...rings?

Oh, those were his favorite.

— Princess cut, Briolette, Trilliant, Radiant.

Oval and round. The entire catalog.

And it wasn’t just about the aesthetic. No, it was something else entirely—something unspoken in the way he always lingered just a second longer when slipping the ring onto your finger, something in the way his eyes darkened with quiet satisfaction whenever you lifted your hand, light catching on whatever new piece he had picked out for you.

Like now for instances.

"Here," he said one afternoon, handing you a small velvet box. His voice was casual, but his fingers brushed yours when you took it from him. "Saw this new piece on my way home and thought of you."

You barely glanced up from your work before popping the box open, the soft click of the latch followed by a quiet inhale as you took in the ring nestled inside. A smooth sterling silver band, sleek and polished, with fluted rose gold prongs holding a citrine gem. The cut was extravagant, the kind of thing that should have been reserved for engagement rings, but you had long stopped questioning Caleb’s taste.

"Caleb," you groaned, rolling your eyes but still sliding it onto your finger. It fit perfectly, as they always did. "You have to stop doing this."

"And why should I?" He smirked, leaning back against the couch, arm thrown over the backrest as he watched you admire the ring despite your protests. "Looks good on you."

You twisted your fingers, letting the metal catch the light. He could see it in your face—the way your lips curved slightly, the way your brows relaxed—that moment of pure, genuine appreciation. He memorized that expression every time.

Because no matter how much you insisted it was too much, you never turned them down.

And he never had to worry about you asking how much they cost.

But it wasn’t about the price anyway. It was about the way you wore them, the way your hands danced through the air when you talked, your fingers adorned with pieces he had chosen. It was about the quiet thrill of watching everyone else notice, of knowing that every time someone asked where you got them, your answer was always the same.

"Caleb, obviously. He’s the reason I have half my jewelry box."

That was enough for him.

But this one was different.

"Wait, Caleb?" Your voice broke through his thoughts, amused and lilting. "Did you know this was engraved?"

You held up the ring between your fingers, tilting it just enough for the small inscription inside to catch the light.

.C.

Delicate, subtle, almost invisible unless you were looking for it.

He raised a brow, feigning nonchalance. "Oh? …I don't actually remember seeing that anywhere?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. "You seriously didn't notice?"

"Guess not." He shrugged, and you huffed out a laugh, shaking your head.

"I don’t think I believe you."

He didn’t respond, only watching as you lifted your phone, snapping a picture. Within minutes, your messages flooded with the usual teasing.

"Another one? Does Caleb just collect rings for you now?"

"That’s basically a proposal, babe!"

"Correction. This is the one billionth proposal"

And, as always, your reply was the same.

"Of course it’s Caleb. Who else spoils me like this constantly?"

He loved that. Loved knowing that when others have noticed the rings on your fingers, they knew exactly who put them there.

But even when he adorned your hands, his own ring was different.

It never sat on his finger. It had its own place, strung securely onto the same chain as his tags, resting against his chest beneath the layers of his uniform.

Same material, same weight.

But the chain never left his body. It was there in the dead of night, cold against his skin. There in the thick of the day, clinking softly against metal. It was there when the world was loud and chaotic, when exhaustion pulled at his bones, grounding him with the quiet weight of something real.

Something that brought him back to you.

And when he returned home?

when he was finally home, the chain came off—but the ring never stayed in some forgotten drawer.

No, it belonged in the same place it always did.

Right where you were—pressed close against his heart.

[dolcekissy]

disclaimer // 18+ content. this story includes oral sex, and a lot of spit ;)

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you were bored ─ thumbs scrolling as you skipped through videos on tiktok. rafe invited you over just to chill in his bed and spend the night together, you loved spending time with rafe but you were fucking bored.

rafe laying down in his bed next to you, mindlessly scrolling through instagram ─ stopping to watch different reels and like pictures people posted. he stopped ─ his head snapping over to you and your phone when you gasped.

"oh my god! rafe look at this!" you shoved your phone in his face, showing him a video of a girl laughing with wide eyes ─ her mouth opened as saliva poured out of her mouth. "ew, what the fuck." he groaned out, his brows furrowing as he looked away.

"no way that shits real!" you laughed, clicking on the link to look at the little mints and reading the description. "we have to try these, that's so funny." you giggled, immediately adding it to your cart and purchasing it.

rafe scoffed and continued scrolling through his phone, "that shits not real ─ bet it's a scam or some shit."

─────────────────────────

a few days passed and your package came in the mail, you excitedly opened it and texted rafe to pick you up. you were going to surprise him and try to get him to try them with you.

rafe had totally forgotten about them, so when you pulled out a little bright package he furrowed his brows at you ─ asking you what that is.

"it's those mint tablet things i showed you ─ the ones that make you drool a lot, told you we were trying them." you giggle, opening the package and popping one in your mouth.

"you've gotta be kidding me." rafe scoffed, he looked at the little package and read the strength ─ not even a minute later you're opening the car door and laughing as saliva starts dripping down your chin and onto the ground.

"rafe! oh my god look!" you step out of his car, holding your hair back with your hands as your mouth drips and pours. rafe shakes his head and gets out of the car, walking over to you as you look up at him with a laugh.

you stick your tongue out and watch your spit pour down onto the ground with wide eyes. his eyes widened and his dick is immediately hardening when your wide eyes meet his.

"how long does that last." he asked, trying to adjust his pants as you looked down at the ground glistening in your spit. you shrug with a laugh, "i dunno ─ they said people use this for cotton mouth but i bet people use it to suck dick."

he shook his head ─ watching you close your mouth for a moment before opening it again, spit pouring down your lips and chin. you look up at him with raised eyebrows, his eyebrows raising too as he waits for you to say something.

"wanna try it?"

─────────────────────────

you're on your knees in the back of rafe's car ─ holding all the saliva that's been begging to come out as rafe eagerly pulls his sweatpants and underwear down. you quickly grab his cock with one hand and open your mouth, letting everything drip on him.

he groans at the feeling of your warm spit and the sight of you in front of him. his hands pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail as you wrap your lips around his cock ─ your dripping tongue twirling around his pink tip.

"shittt." he groans. you begin bopping your head on his cock, feeling your spit run down and your chin and drip onto the floor of his car. he grabs his phone sitting next to him, pulling the camera app up and turning the flash on while he records you.

your eyes meet the camera lens as you let his cock hit the back of your throat ─ his groans going straight to your needy pussy. after a few moments of literally slurping on his dick, he guides your head up and down his cock before pulling your head back.

"fuckkk, m'gonna cum ─ stick your tongue out, doll."

you stick your tongue out, letting the camera watch your saliva and his warm seed drip off your tongue and onto his cock ─ the seat below him glistening and his thick cock shining.

"mmm, 's your turn rafey." you lean over, grabbing the pack and popping one into his mouth ─ immediately switching positions with him and pulling your lace panties down, your ass laying flat against the puddle of spit as you wait for him to create an even bigger puddle while he drools over your sopping pussy.

─────────────────────────

[banj0possum]

My Lovely Melody

Yandere!Rockstar x GN!Reader

CW: yandere is a playboy before he meets reader, suggestive (creepy) thoughts, minor obsessive behaviour

🎸 Axel's been in many relationships with both men and women alike, but all of his little flings felt nothing more than that, just flings.

🎸 And he was content with it, I mean being a famous rockstar meant lots of people wanting a chance with you and he indulged in that fact.

🎸 He could sleep with whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and he wouldn't have to deal with the commitment that comes with dating or any of that messy stuff.

🎸 So why the hell can't stop thinking about you ?!?!?!!

🎸 He scratched his head trying to make sense of it, his messy hair getting even more ruffled as he tries to get the image of your smile out of his head.

🎸 You were in a miscellaneous store full of alt clothing, trinkets and various other stuff when he walked in with his bandmates.

🎸 It was fairly normal when he came in the store. It was dim with some random punk song playing faintly in the background. His friends started exploring, looking at the graphic t-shirts and mugs shaped like skulls and the like.

🎸 He got a bit bored and wandered to the other side of the store. It had posters, candles and..who's that?

🎸 There you were, staring longingly at a plush toy sitting on one of the shelves, just standing there.

🎸 He didn't think much of it, probably just some person baked out of their mind. "Hey buddy, you doin' good?"

🎸 You snap out of your gaze and look at the big hulking man in front of you. You stutter out an apology and explain your little misfortune.

🎸 "So you want this..toy...but you can't afford it..?" He raises a brow at you as you nod, making him chuckle.

🎸 He thought for a moment, looking at the stuffed creature, well it wouldn't hurt to buy it for you, he's pretty well off from all the gigs and concerts he's been in so...

🎸 "How 'bout I buy this thing for ya then? But you owe me~" He winks, thinking he could score some quick sex for being such a 'gentleman'

🎸 But no, instead of a blush or a knowing smirk, you just looked at him with the widest, most innocent eyes he's ever seen, you were practically shaking with joy as he said it.

🎸 You thanked him profusely before listing off things you could do in return, treating him to some food, buying something for him in return, plain paying him back..he was a bit surprised.

🎸 "O-oh...uhm that was a joke heheh, y-you don't have to do all that babe..." He blushes.

🎸 The two of you head to the cashier, his friends spying from behind the aisles as his gaze is locked on the little ball of cuteness beside him.

🎸 Seriously? Did you even know who he was? This has never happened before...most of the time, he would pay for someone's drink or something and they'd be on his dick in seconds, but you, you were so..different...it felt nice..

🎸 You didn't even get it in a bag, you immediately took the plush after it was paid and hugged it close.

🎸 so cute so cute so cute so cute so cute!!!

🎸 "Hey uh..so me and my buds are in a band and uhm..wanna maybe..watch our next gig?" He asks nervously, he's never been so shy towards anyone!!

🎸 You agree, thinking it's the least you could do for what he did for you.

🎸 You take out your phone, Axel can't help but grin at the case, it was cute, like you~..

🎸 "Here's my number if..you need it.." You smile at him, that smile..that damn cute smile...you had his heart wrapped around your finger at this point.

🎸 "Th-thanks sugar..I'll see you there.." He smiles back as you part ways, he heads back to his friends who were bombarding him with questions as he watches you skip out of the store with your new little soft friend.

🎸 That night, he was getting ready for the show when he got a message notification and sees that you sent a picture of the show from one of the seats with some text "Good luck out there!"

🎸 His face was on fire as he realized you were there, he peeks out in the crowd and there you were, your little plush toy in tow.

🎸 You look so out of place from the people in spiky jewelry and dark outfits, you were just in a hoodie and baggy pants, albeit the hoodie had a MCR design on it, but you can tell it was very soft compared to the rest of the audience.

🎸 Finally it was time for the show to begin and it was the most passionate he's been in a while, it seemed as if the words he was singing were dedicated to you and you alone.

🎸 The little glances at you made you giddy, like a friend seeing their bestie perform, you were cheering excitedly for him, not in a fangirly way, but one of genuine support and amazement.

🎸 After the performance, Axel tried finding you, but the crowd was too big and he assumed you must have left already.

🎸 Wait..why is he being so buddy buddy with you? You just met today! It's not like you two were best friends or anything!

🎸 He tried dismissing the thought of you, tried distracting himself by flirting with other people, but he could only think about you, and making you smile like that again..

🎸 no no no! get out of my head!

🎸 Maybe a little fling can ease his mind?

🎸 Even on his bed with some random girl after show, he can still think of you.

🎸 Would your skin be as soft? or maybe softer? How would your hair smell? He bets your moans would sound delicious..

🎸 shit FUCK!!

🎸 Even after his one night stand, he kept thinking of you

🎸 He stares at your messages, you sent a lot of pictures of your plush toy doing goofy things to him, so cute..so silly...he can't help but smile.

🎸 He decides to look you up on social media and..

🎸 Wait a minute...you make music too?

yep this was a bit short but idk man i love making you guys suffer <3 stay tuned for part 2 (i am actually out of ideas guys please request me please please ple-)

[txttletale]

Saw a tweet that said something around:

"cannot emphasize enough how horrid chatgpt is, y'all. it's depleting our global power & water supply, stopping us from thinking or writing critically, plagiarizing human artists. today's students are worried they won't have jobs because of AI tools. this isn't a world we deserve"

I've seen some of your AI posts and they seem nuanced, but how would you respond do this? Cause it seems fairly-on point and like the crux of most worries. Sorry if this is a troublesome ask, just trying to learn so any input would be appreciated.

i would simply respond that almost none of that is true.

'depleting the global power and water supply'

something i've seen making the roudns on tumblr is that chatgpt queries use 3 watt-hours per query. wow, that sounds like a lot, especially with all the articles emphasizing that this is ten times as much as google search. let's check some other very common power uses:

running a microwave for ten minutes is 133 watt-hours

gaming on your ps5 for an hour is 200 watt-hours

watching an hour of netflix is 800 watt-hours

and those are just domestic consumer electricty uses!

a single streetlight's typical operation 1.2 kilowatt-hours a day (or 1200 watt-hours)

a digital billboard being on for an hour is 4.7 kilowatt-hours (or 4700 watt-hours)

i think i've proved my point, so let's move on to the bigger picture: there are estimates that AI is going to cause datacenters to double or even triple in power consumption in the next year or two! damn that sounds scary. hey, how significant as a percentage of global power consumption are datecenters?

1-1.5%.

ah. well. nevertheless!

what about that water? yeah, datacenters use a lot of water for cooling. 1.7 billion gallons (microsoft's usage figure for 2021) is a lot of water! of course, when you look at those huge and scary numbers, there's some important context missing. it's not like that water is shipped to venus: some of it is evaporated and the rest is generally recycled in cooling towers. also, not all of the water used is potable--some datacenters cool themselves with filtered wastewater.

most importantly, this number is for all data centers. there's no good way to separate the 'AI' out for that, except to make educated guesses based on power consumption and percentage changes. that water figure isn't all attributable to AI, plenty of it is necessary to simply run regular web servers.

but sure, just taking that number in isolation, i think we can all broadly agree that it's bad that, for example, people are being asked to reduce their household water usage while google waltzes in and takes billions of gallons from those same public reservoirs.

but again, let's put this in perspective: in 2017, coca cola used 289 billion liters of water--that's 7 billion gallons! bayer (formerly monsanto) in 2018 used 124 million cubic meters--that's 32 billion gallons!

so, like. yeah, AI uses electricity, and water, to do a bunch of stuff that is basically silly and frivolous, and that is broadly speaking, as someone who likes living on a planet that is less than 30% on fire, bad. but if you look at the overall numbers involved it is a miniscule drop in the ocean! it is a functional irrelevance! it is not in any way 'depleting' anything!

'stopping us from thinking or writing critically'

this is the same old reactionary canard we hear over and over again in different forms. when was this mythic golden age when everyone was thinking and writing critically? surely we have all heard these same complaints about tiktok, about phones, about the internet itself? if we had been around a few hundred years earlier, we could have heard that "The free access which many young people have to romances, novels, and plays has poisoned the mind and corrupted the morals of many a promising youth."

it is a reactionary narrative of societal degeneration with no basis in anything. yes, it is very funny that laywers have lost the bar for trusting chatgpt to cite cases for them. but if you think that chatgpt somehow prevented them from thinking critically about its output, you're accusing the tail of wagging the dog.

nobody who says shit like "oh wow chatgpt can write every novel and movie now. yiou can just ask chatgpt to give you opinions and ideas and then use them its so great" was, like, sitting in the symposium debating the nature of the sublime before chatgpt released. there is no 'decay', there is no 'decline'. you should be suspicious of those narratives wherever you see them, especially if you are inclined to agree!

plagiarizing human artists

nah. i've been over this ad infinitum--nothing 'AI art' does could be considered plagiarism without a definition so preposterously expansive that it would curtail huge swathes of human creative expression.

AI art models do not contain or reproduce any images. the result of them being trained on images is a very very complex statistical model that contains a lot of large-scale statistical data about all those images put together (and no data about any of those individual images).

to draw a very tortured comparison, imagine you had a great idea for how to make the next Great American Painting. you loaded up a big file of every norman rockwell painting, and you made a gigantic excel spreadsheet. in this spreadsheet you noticed how regularly elements recurred: in each cell you would have something like "naturalistic lighting" or "sexually unawakened farmers" and the % of times it appears in his paintings. from this, you then drew links between these cells--what % of paintings containing sexually unawakened farmers also contained naturalistic lighting? what % also contained a white guy?

then, if you told someone else with moderately competent skill at painting to use your excel spreadsheet to generate a Great American Painting, you would likely end up with something that is recognizably similar to a Norman Rockwell painting: but any charge of 'plagiarism' would be absolutely fucking absurd!

this is a gross oversimplification, of course, but it is much closer to how AI art works than the 'collage machine' description most people who are all het up about plagiarism talk about--and if it were a collage machine, it would still not be plagiarising because collages aren't plagiarism.

(for a better and smarter explanation of the process from soneone who actually understands it check out this great twitter thread by @reachartwork)

today's students are worried they won't have jobs because of AI tools

i mean, this is true! AI tools are definitely going to destroy livelihoods. they will increase productivty for skilled writers and artists who learn to use them, which will immiserate those jobs--they will outright replace a lot of artists and writers for whom quality is not actually important to the work they do (this has already essentially happened to the SEO slop website industry and is in the process of happening to stock images).

jobs in, for example, product support are being cut for chatgpt. and that sucks for everyone involved. but this isn't some unique evil of chatgpt or machine learning, this is just the effect that technological innovation has on industries under capitalism!

there are plenty of innovations that wiped out other job sectors overnight. the camera was disastrous for portrait artists. the spinning jenny was famously disastrous for the hand-textile workers from which the luddites drew their ranks. retail work was hit hard by self-checkout machines. this is the shape of every single innovation that can increase productivity, as marx explains in wage labour and capital:

“The greater division of labour enables one labourer to accomplish the work of five, 10, or 20 labourers; it therefore increases competition among the labourers fivefold, tenfold, or twentyfold. The labourers compete not only by selling themselves one cheaper than the other, but also by one doing the work of five, 10, or 20; and they are forced to compete in this manner by the division of labour, which is introduced and steadily improved by capital. Furthermore, to the same degree in which the division of labour increases, is the labour simplified. The special skill of the labourer becomes worthless. He becomes transformed into a simple monotonous force of production, with neither physical nor mental elasticity. His work becomes accessible to all; therefore competitors press upon him from all sides. Moreover, it must be remembered that the more simple, the more easily learned the work is, so much the less is its cost to production, the expense of its acquisition, and so much the lower must the wages sink – for, like the price of any other commodity, they are determined by the cost of production. Therefore, in the same manner in which labour becomes more unsatisfactory, more repulsive, do competition increase and wages decrease”

this is the process by which every technological advancement is used to increase the domination of the owning class over the working class. not due to some inherent flaw or malice of the technology itself, but due to the material realtions of production.

so again the overarching point is that none of this is uniquely symptomatic of AI art or whatever ever most recent technological innovation. it is symptomatic of capitalism. we remember the luddites primarily for failing and not accomplishing anything of meaning.

if you think it's bad that this new technology is being used with no consideration for the planet, for social good, for the flourishing of human beings, then i agree with you! but then your problem shouldn't be with the technology--it should be with the economic system under which its use is controlled and dictated by the bourgeoisie.

[rafesangelita]

♡ when a double date with rafe leads to him feeling a sense of familiarity + you may have revealed your biggest secret yet..

warnings: mean!rafe. enemies to ???, suggestive language, lots of cussing lol, slight angst, mild sexting, light degradation (reader and rafe just like being snarky towards each other), sexual tension, flirty banter (?), slight arguing

a/n: this is part two of this fic right here! if you’d like to be added to the taglist just comment on this post or leave me an ask <3 i do plan to write three more parts to this!

links: previous | next | mini series masterlist

wc: 2.9k

[1:19 AM] countryclub: we have the same area code.

you felt cold sheer panic run through your veins at the revelation, your heart beating in your ears as you kept rereading his message. you refused to believe what he said to be true. this couldn’t be happening. sharing the same area code could only mean one thing— both of you resided on the island.

sure, the island was small, but it couldn’t be that small.. right? your mind was reeling, everything that you two had talked about, the pictures that you two shared, over the last few months ran through your mind at lightning speed. tossing your phone to the side, you rested your head in your hands, trying your best to piece something, anything, together. this mystery man didn’t talk like anyone you knew, or so you thought. you chewed on your bottom lip, your chest rising and falling as you realized that you hadn’t even confirmed if you two shared the same area code. for all you know he could just be making up some lame excuse for leaving you high and dry.

yeah, that had to be it.

[1:33 AM] brattydiaries: fuck you. i don’t believe that.

[1:35 AM] brattydiaries: i don’t need you to come up with some elaborate lie in order to spare my feelings. if you weren’t serious about reaching out to me in the first place, then you shouldn’t have asked for my number.

rafe was pacing back and forth in his room, the taste of tequila from his earlier activities still lingering on his tongue. he scoffed once your messages came in, his eyes narrowing at his screen as he scratched the back of his neck. insinuating that he didn’t really want to talk to you was just flat out insane. nowadays, all he could do was imagine the way your voice would sound in his ears while he pounded you in, the thoughts and images of you taking up his headspace.

[1:38 AM] countryclub: are you fucking stupid?? i was very serious about wanting to talk to you, you live in my fucking brain.

[1:39 AM] countryclub: 252. that’s the area code for kildare island.

[1:39 AM] countryclub: and judging by the way you post your nail appointments every two weeks, along with all the sexy lil try-on hauls you did for me, i could confidently say that you’re not a pogue.

your eyes widened in horror. only someone who lived on kildare island would know about the whole ‘kooks vs. pogues’ thing. besides the confirmation with the area code, you knew he wasn’t lying. you stared blankly at the screen, having no idea what to say or even do about this situation. having these kinds of blogs and letting anyone you knew in real life find out about them was social suicide. maybe not so much for rafe, but you? you were a totally different person out here. you had a reputation to uphold, you couldn’t risk the scrutiny you or your parents would face if anyone ever found out.

as mad as you were at the mystery man behind the screen for ghosting you without an explanation, you could understand his sudden disappearance now that you currently felt sick to your stomach at the realization. he was far too close for comfort. based off of his username, you knew you two had to be running in the same social circles, your blood running cold at the thought of this person being someone you might’ve had contact with before. figure eight wasn’t big enough to keep a secret like this, it was only a matter of time before you two would unintentionally reveal yourselves to one another.

[1:50 AM] brattydiaries: this can’t go on any longer. sorry not sorry.

you ignored the small pang of hurt in your chest when you pressed send. apart of you hoped that he wouldn’t let you off so easily. you couldn’t deny the thrilling feeling that sat in your tummy at the prospect of knowing who he is but also being utterly clueless at the same time.

[1:55 AM] countryclub: nah.

[1:55 AM] countryclub: i got you right where i want you now.

there was no way in hell rafe was going to just allow you two to go back to not talking. he did it once, but he wouldn’t be able to do it again. especially now that he knows everything he wants is on his side of the island. just in arm’s reach. obviously, he couldn’t physically stop you from blocking him, but at least he knew that if you responded to him then you two were on the same page.

and sure enough..

[1:59 AM] brattydiaries: whatever.

were you scared shitless? yes. did you believe that this was going to backfire in some way? most definitely; but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want this. whatever little sexting arrangement you two had going on, it was the only relatively exciting thing you had going for yourself and you weren’t necessarily ready to let it go.

[2:03 AM] countryclub: so can i call you or what?

you shook your head even though he couldn’t see you.

[2:05 AM] brattydiaries: fuck no. goodnight.

rafe smiled down at his phone before getting ready for bed, both of you finding it nearly impossible to get any kind of sleep. when you woke up the next morning, you were met with at least a dozen messages from chanel.

[8:10 AM] chanel ♡: topper just dropped me off at home..

[8:12 AM] chanel ♡: crazyyyyy night.. but anyways! me and you are going on a double date tonight. idk who topper is bringing but you don’t get to say no because love me, okay!?

[8:12 AM] chanel ♡: LMAO imagine it’s rafe

[8:18 AM] chanel ♡: omg you srsly need to wake up already and come over so you could help me choose an outfit!!

you continued reading through her texts, already dreading tonight’s plans as you decided to go ahead and get the day started so you could get this whole ‘date night’ thing over with. even though chanel jokingly said topper would bring rafe to be your date, you really hoped that wasn’t the case. the last thing you felt like doing was fighting or bickering with him because of your indifferences. after spending the afternoon rummaging through chanel’s closet, she finally settled on a dress that she hasn’t worn out before. “where are we even going?” you asked.

“topper said it’s a surprise so he’s picking both of us up from here.” she smiled, her words making you roll your eyes. you hated not knowing what you were getting yourself into. yet again, here you were, sexting with a stranger who just might not be a stranger after all. by the time topper texted chanel that he was outside, you two were in full glam, ready for whatever tonight may bring you. topper opened the doors for both of you, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of you two. “we weren’t sure how to dress, sooo..” topper nodded, “yeah, i can see that.”

topper had on a casual outfit, a stark difference to the mini dresses and heels you and chanel currently wore. “now is probably a good time to tell us where we’re going.” you quipped from the backseat. at your cattiness, chanel flashed you a glare. “rafe offered up his boat, so i figured we’d just have a couple drinks, have a good time, ‘you know?” you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest as chanel happily agreed. this was bullshit. not only did you have to spend the next few hours with rafe on his stupid boat, but you were sure this ‘double date’ was going to turn into a third wheeling act real fast.

fifteen minutes later, and rafe was reaching out to help you onto the druthers, an annoyed look written all over his face as you tossed your purse at him first. “what? i don’t want my bag to fall in the water, okay?!” taking hold of your hand, rafe caught a glimpse of your nails, the french tip design looking oddly familar. you squeezed his palm, stepping onto the deck with a sigh. topper and chanel had already made their way inside the cabin area, both of them laughing as they slid the door shut, leaving you and rafe all by yourselves. it was moments like these that made you wish you could be anywhere else.

rafe scanned your outfit, his eyes lingering on your cleavage before you turned around, annoyed. “i guess it’s a good thing topper didn’t mention i’d be spending majority of my night with you. ‘cause i wouldn’t have came.” you snatched your purse back, your heels clicking against the deck as you sat on one of the cushioned chairs near the lounging area. rafe grabbed his cooler, deciding to entertain your antics since all you two had was time. “mmm, i don’t know about that. apart of me thinks you like arguing with me. i know i do.” you scoffed, a bittersweet smile gracing your lips.

“yeah? i bet. female attention seems to be something you lack.” rafe laughed, taking a seat next to you. “oh, i can guarantee you that’s not the case.” he scooted closer, unscrewing the cap from his beer. yeah, right. you knew all about rafe’s inability to hold onto a relationship, rumors of his emotional unavailability spreading around the island like wildfire. “no? i’m sorry, i just assumed since, you know.. you’re a full time asshole.” rafe put his beer down, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed thickly. “only with you, i am.”

you laughed, finally meeting his gaze. he was a lot closer than you thought, his cologne filling your senses as your eyes flickered down to his lips for a second. “so i’m special then?” you had a faux innocent look in your eyes as you blinked up at him, the sight making his jaw clench. “no,” he smiled, leaning in, “but i can be nice. i can be real nice.” the insinuation made your cheeks heat as his face was just mere inches away from your own. tilting your head, you flashed him a sweet smile before shoving him in the chest.

“that’s never going to happen.” rafe acted like you didn’t have any effect on him, but inside? he was fighting every urge to pick you up and take you back to tanneyhill. he couldn’t help but feel like he knew you more than you let on, your demeanor reminding him of a certain someone. “can i ask why?” he watched as you grabbed his beer, your lipgloss smudging around the rim as you took a swig. “why i don’t like you, or why i won’t let you fuck me?” rafe leaned back in his chair, his thighs spreading as he crossed his arms over his chest.

well you definitely had a way with words..

rafe took the time to get a really good look at you. he had a feeling about you that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, the familiarity driving him crazy. he was determined to figure you out. “both.” he answered, taking his beer back from you. slipping your heels off, you brought your feet up and got comfortable in your spot next to rafe. “well i only realized i didn’t like you when i found out you had been talking about me first. so, really, i should be asking you why you don’t like me.”

rafe blinked. all this time he thought that you felt the way you did just because. “how come you never asked me then?” you stayed silent for a few moments before shrugging. “everyone has always made their assumptions about me. about my parents, about my life.. but no one really knows me, or what really goes on in my home. i just let people think whatever they want.” rafe’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “what do you mean?” at his words, you realized you may have said too much.

putting your defense back up, you backed away from him slightly before you scoffed. “you’re the last person i’d ever confide in, rafe.” the man next to you immediately recognized what you did, having veered away from being vulnerable a countless amount of times himself. rafe couldn’t help but keep digging. “let’s go tit for tat, then. you tell me something, anything you want, and i’ll say something in return. ‘that way it’s an even exchange.” apart of you hated him for making this so easy.

“i’m not doing that with you.” your voice sounded different. it lacked that usual bite and now rafe felt bad for opening his mouth in the first place. before the awkward tension could settle over you two again, you got up with your phone in your hand. “where are you going?” rafe watched as you slid the door open to the cabin area. “inside. i need to make a phone call.” you lied, walking past chanel and topper who were aggressively making out on the couch in the corner.

locking the small bathroom door behind you, you sighed, taking a moment to let go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding. what even was that out there? unlocking your phone, you sent chanel a text that you wanted to leave even though the chances of her seeing it was extremely slim. you stalled, deciding to freshen up your makeup as you waited for this so-called ‘date’ to end already. you were reapplying your lip gloss when your phone went off, making you mutter a ‘thank god’. instead of the notification being a message back from your best friend who was currently getting her face sucked off, it was from tumblr instead.

[9:14 PM] countryclub: what are you doing right now? i could use someone to talk to rn ngl

you looked up from your screen and stared into your reflection. this message came at just the right time.

[9:15 PM] brattydiaries: that makes two of us. i’m not with the sweet talk rn though, but i could use a distraction right now for sure..

[9:16 PM] countryclub: define ‘sweet talk’ cause i had every intention of asking you for some sexy pics and maybe a phone call if you’re down with that?

you refrained from laughing at his text, his bluntness throwing you for a loop. you couldn’t deny the giddy feeling you had in your tummy when you thought about hearing his voice. biting your lip nervously, you pulled the neckline of your dress down, exposing the lace of your bra before snapping a few pictures.

[9:19 PM] brattydiaries: 3 attachments

[9:20 PM] brattydiaries: here’s the first half of your request. make me wet and just maybe i’ll accept the call..

rafe was outside on the deck looking over his shoulder every two seconds to make sure you weren’t coming back in time to see the explicit photos currently illuminating his screen. he cursed under his breath, his eyes raking over the soft swells of your breasts. you were so fucking perfect, he couldn’t believe you were so close yet so far.

[9:22 PM] countryclub: fuckk you’re unreal.

[9:22 PM] countryclub: i hate that i’m wrapped up with something right now, otherwise i’d be sending you paragraphs about how pretty your tits look for me.

you sighed in defeat, making a mental note to send him a text once you were finally in the comfort of your own bed. with you still in the bathroom, rafe took his time examining the photos, his eyes widening slightly as he zoomed in on the dainty diamond pendant of your necklace, the background looking like something he has seen before.

[9:25 PM] brattydiaries: aww, too bad.

just then, chanel knocked on the bathroom door, her hair looking slightly out of place once you opened it. “i just saw your text. you ready to go?” you nodded, adjusting your dress before stepping out. “sorry to cock block you, i just had a really weird moment with rafe.” you explained, tossing your phone back in your purse. chanel waved you off before interlocking her arm with yours. “don’t even worry about it, we’re going back to his place, anyways.” she reassured you.

topper was already outside on the deck once you two made your way out of the cabin. glancing at rafe, you quickly looked away once you saw that he was already staring at you. “well, thanks for letting us use the druthers.” chanel smiled, in which rafe just shook his head. “ah, don’t even worry about it,” he held your stare, “..i had a good time.” blinking away from him, rafe’s eyes caught onto your cleavage once again, except this time; a sparkle from right above your neckline took him out of his reverie.

that necklace..

before he could piece anything together, you were moving with chanel, not sparing rafe another look as you were getting back onto the dock. the car ride back to your place was deadly silent. all except for the music topper had playing in the background. by the time you had gotten home and showered, you felt your world come to a stand still when your phone started ringing, an unsaved number with kildare island’s area code showing up at the top.

accepting the call, you held up the receiver to your ear with a shaky hand before speaking.

“hello?”

“..you sound pretty.”

taglist: @meallan01 @sf1738 @emeloyy @hmmshhhh @chelzaa @starkeycore @liyah4evaaaa @hnybitches @urbimom @kittenjujusblog @femaholicc @lil-sparklqueen @yktayy9669 @matthewswifeyy @icaqttt @jjasmiineee @lilithblackkk @rafecameronswhoore @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @ditzyzombiesblog @i-love-gvf @blondrafe @wolf-2005 @brianquinnlvr @lightbluebaby @jkrafe @lovemaybankk @xcinnamonmalfoyx @drewstarkeysbabe @issues4him @dahliaparton @slut-4-gojo @luvagirlsworld @nemesyaaa @jwdiaries @midsoulz @drewstarkeyzwhore @urmotherlvr @chillgal135 @wtfisastiles @dollyfiles @annaconscience @rafesluvr @locallyhateddoll @acidfeens @cherubfille @whathechickenstrip @my-name-is-baby @wtfdudesblog @atjlovverr

[inactiveaccount-lovendeepsecrets]

Domestic + Intimate Headcanons

*Minus Caleb only because his myth and cards aren't out yet, and I don't feel confident adding him when there's so much lore and little quirks we still don't know about him. I shall make a separate post for him if this goes well.

But Hi! This is my 1st hc so please go easy on me. I believe some of the bullet points on here are canon, but I can’t help talking abt how cute this all is 🫠 I'm not the best writer and I tried so hard to be impartial, but you can probably still tell where my bias lies LOL

As always these are just my opinions!!

tags: headcanon, fluff, mostly gender neutral, but these lean towards an afab + fem!reader, 18+

***MDNI; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something nsfw despite the warnings and will be BLOCKED***

Disclaimer: I personally think all of them like praise, body worship and are humungous eaters. If the specifications aren't noted under your fav LI, it's because I didn't want this too become too redundant!

✵ ✰ ✷ ✭✮ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ ❅ ❆ ❃ 𓆰· 𓆃

Rafayel

SFW

• Has definitely set up a date where you do that TikTok trend painting portraits of each other

• Hates the caricature you two posed for at the amusement park

• On more than one occasion you've (jokingly) threatened to frame said caricature at his gallery to shut him up during an argument

• Is an escape artist. He has a long history of being captured/on the run. It’s no wonder he could easily untie himself from your ropes

• I don't think we talk enough about how rich this man is, but I think he'd be quite into second hand fashion. Think runway archives, vintage designer pieces, custom couture, etc.

• Always drives over the speed limit

• Will never tease you during your art lessons with him

• THE best bf to take pictures of you for your social media accounts. He’d suggest different poses while contorting himself in odd positions on the ground just to get the perfect angle

• Sings you to sleep

• Surprisingly good at doing hair. If you need help dying, braiding, or putting your hair in rollers, he'd actually do a pretty good job.

• Created an entire album on his phone of candid photos he took when you weren't looking

• Also made a scrapbook of polaroids from all your scenic dates and vacations together, most of them are of you

NSFW

• He’s a mermaid. He is the motion of the ocean. The hip movements? Stamina? Best (and prettiest) dick game goes to him, I’m sorry.

• LOUD, noisy, and talkative. Starts to ramble when he’s close

• Wax play? [in the submissive]

• Nipple play [in the submissive]

• Edging + Milking

• I think his open vulnerability makes people think he’s more sub leaning, but some of it’s for show

• Because of your bond, he’ll submit; but he’ll do it in such a way that you’re right where he wants you to effectively make the switch

• Make no mistake, he doesn’t mind subbing from time to time. He loves seeing you on top of him, using his body. He feels a sense of accomplishment being a vessel for your pleasure

• There was a tweet that explained how Raf would be a bit of a bully as a dom, but in the best way (recommended read)

• Chuckles and coos at you after each of your orgasms

• Isn’t into watersports, but gets a massive ego boost if you squ*rt

• Is sometimes overly arrogant about toys, but is also so obsessed with you, that he made you get molds of each other on the rare occasions you’re apart for too long

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚

Sylus

SFW

• Has asked his private chef for a one on one culinary lesson to impress you with a home cooked meal

• A patron and secret lover of the arts. Dabbles in the opera, theatre and certain musicals

• He’s*slightly* better at drawing and singing than he lets on, but loves taking the piss

• This man is so funny, but his life and profession is all too serious, making the small moments of banter more precious for the both of you

• Will also hum to lull you to sleep

• Secret polyglot

• His way of ending petty arguments with you is by throwing you over his shoulder and going to bed

• Retail therapy connoisseur

• Surprisingly handy

• He of course, only likes visiting Linkon to see you, but also likes your apartment. While it’s microscopic in his eyes, he slowly understands what small things make a home feel cozy and tries to replicate that at his

• He’s intrigued by your self care sessions and will often indulge, joining in with the sheet masks, aromatherapy, massages and waxing (he likes the heat of the wax lol). He’ll put on a brave face and deny the pain, boasting about his high tolerance

• Spoils you in general, but especially when you’re sick or on your period

• Will carry you around just cause -much like a typical cat owner who loves to randomly pick up and cuddle their cat LOL

• Would buy out a restaurant for the night and have the orchestra play a medley of some of your favourite songs you’ve discovered from his record collection

• There’s really no such thing as small gestures with him

NSFW

• Marking

• Nipple play (giving and receiving)

• Blindfolds

• Certified munch; almost loves it more than penetrative sex

• AND HE 10000% HOLDS YOUR HANDS WHILE GOING DOWN ON YOU— WHY ISNT THIS WRITTEN MORE IN FICS

• Pleasure dom. He’s not sadistic or a bully when it comes to overstimulation (unlike Raf), he’s the very definition of “will talk you through it”

• Absolutely the type to coo at the sounds and faces you make. You could not look more adorable in his eyes

• Likes watching you solo

• Your satisfaction is his priority, so he’s not intimidated by toys. That being said, he definitely owns a remote vibrator

• Phone sex. No question

• In addition to phone sex, he bought those long distance bluetooth couple’s toys that sync up with each other so it’ll react to both of your movements in real time

• In the submissive, he really loves to see you in control of your own pleasure. He’ll encourage you to use him (eg face sitting, leg humping, cowgirl, etc)

• Slight masochist; those cuffs, paddles and chains are for him 😭 he’s curious to see how far you’ll go. By the end of it all, he’ll use his evol to free himself of whatever restraint he’s under

•As far as a degradation kink, I don’t see it for him, sorry. He adores you too much to call his sweetie a “slut”, “whore”, “filthy,” and so on

• Not as rough as he appears. Really the only time he’s rougher than he realises, is when he’s biting you

• If you want it more aggressive, you’ll have to ask. Even then, he’ll be cautious not to overdo it. The last thing he wants is to hurt you

• It’s canon he loves praise. Giving and receiving

𓆰· 𓆃 · 𓆩♡ 𓆰· 𓆃 · 𓆩♡ 𓆰· 𓆃 · 𓆩♡ 𓆰· 𓆃 · 𓆩♡

Xavier

SFW

• Low-key likes to carry you around and his fav way is by piggyback ride (loves being physically close to you and the way you cling to him)

• Will fast all day just for Hotpot or Brazilian steakhouse

• Is much better at baking than cooking

• Leaves you Post-it note love letters in places like mirrors, cabinets, and drawers, before he leaves after spending the night

• Unintentional comedian. He's sometimes taken aback by your laughter, but it only encourages him to keep talking just to hear it again

• He honestly loves sharing things with you; food, books, (his) hoodies, etc. He just doesn’t like sharing YOU

• Would plan a scavenger hunt date

• Is always playing coy because he knows it triggers your cuteness aggression

• The pettiest of petty when he's upset or threatened (look up his affinity lvl 140 video call)

• Sometimes stricter than Zayne when it comes to your health & recovery. He hates to see you over-exerting yourself after an injury and has scolded you before about taking it easy

• Loves to get ready for bed with you at the same time. Showering together, doing skincare together, brushing teeth together; whatever you’re doing he’s either tagging along or sitting there watching you

• When he’s spending the night, he can't fall asleep without you playing with his hair and holding hands

• Learned your favourite flower and has been secretly sneaking into Jeremiah’s greenhouse planting and tending to a small bush of them to gift to you whenever

NSFW

• Thigh job

• Mating press

• Morning sex, specifically morning head (f receiving)

• While going down on you, he def seems like the type to keep going after you’ve climaxed, but he slows down his movements, giving languid kisses to your center to help ride out the wave of pleasure vs intentional overstimulation (though he isn’t against that either)

• It seems that the consensus on here is that he's the best eater of the LIs? I don't necessarily disagree; I'm just not completely sure if that title goes to him quite yet

• The most primal and rough of the LIs. Hair pulling, choking (safely), spanking, leashes

• Also likes it when you’re rough with him

[I know I said I wasn’t confident making any hcs abt Caleb yet, but I have a slight hunch he rivals Xavier for most primal]

• Goes feral when you say his name

• This man is a dom, don’t let the puppy eyes and bunny ears fool you 💀

• He's not as noisy as he is talkative, especially during foreplay

• BOSSY

• I don’t put it past him to feel like he’s in competition with vibrators. He’d rather him use one on you, but knows he’s being irrational

• While he’s not really into feet, he’d suck toes during missionary to see how you’d react

✵ ✰ ✷ ✭ ✧ ✸ ✮ ✵ ✰ ✷ ✭ ✧ ✸ ✮ ✵ ✰ ✷ ✭ ✧ ✸

Zayne

SFW

• Alternatively to Sylus, this man is comprised of small gestures that snowball (hehe) over time. One more meaningful than the next

• While he respects and admires your independence, he needs you to need him. He’ll never vocalise it, but he feels most useful and accomplished when you ask for his help

• Won’t let you carry any bags when you’re out shopping, not even your purse

• Like Rafayel, he also has an album on his phone with pictures of mostly you. Though he feels odd taking your picture when you’re not looking, he’s snuck in a photo or two when you were looking particularly lively mingling with the people at his work event

• Knows your go-to orders at all of your fav restaurants by heart

• Stargazing dates. When either of you are out of town for a while and are catching up on the phone before bed, he’ll tell you to go outside and look at the moon

• After a long shift at work, he’ll kneel by your side of the couch waiting for you to embrace him, hugging and nuzzling your waist

• He also secretly loves being the little spoon

• Subscribed to a delivery service that sends you flowers on your birthday every year

• There’s something about Zayne that makes me think dogs absolutely LOVE him even though he’s not particularly fond of their energetic nature

• Spoils you rotten when you’re on your period. Full princess treatment; plushie heating pads, full body massages, raspberry tea, and hand feeding you snacks. Basically Dr Zayne turns into Nurse Zayne

• He’s more lenient with your cravings, letting you have a small portion of desserts or snacks only after you’ve finished your meal

• Loves your laugh but knows his dry wit won’t always work, so he’ll just tickle you if the joke doesn’t land

• Fell in love with you after the Drunken Intimacy card. It made him realise how much he likes holding you and tending to your needs

• Doesn’t even bother lecturing you about how bad high heels are for your joints and muscles anymore. He now keeps a pair of slippers in his car just in case you start to complain

• He can never resist the urge to kiss your cheek or forehead when he sees you’re fast asleep (Canon 🥹)

NSFW

• Has a weakness for lingerie, lace and stockings

• In the submissive, he’d be just like the kitty butler in his card -the goodest of good boys

• …Feet? I’m not sure if it’s anything freaky. Kudos to whoever clocked that for sub! Zayne months prior to the kitty butler quad banner

• Soft dom, but not as gentle as his voice lets on. He’s already a bit strict with you in your relationship, and he’s the same way in bed. How is he supposed to know what feels good if you don’t vocalise it?

• The only time he’s pretty rough with you is when you provoke him. But he checks in with you to make sure he isn’t being too hard

• Once he loses his control, he gets a tiny bit greedy too (“We’re not done here. Quitting halfway isn’t something I would do” —Silent Poem Secret Times)

• His methods of brat “taming” aren’t anything over the top or domineering. Though he enjoys spanking, he thinks there are better lessons he could teach you to combat your brattiness

• Has definitely gone down on you and stopped altogether right before you climax as a form of punishment

• Shibari + Hitachi -girl run!

• Ice play

• Nipple play (giving and receiving)

• The size of your chest doesn’t really matter to him, he just really likes to hold and massage them. It’s his favourite way to keep his hands warm

• This man is so good with his hands and in more ways than one. The placement and movement of his hands in the Nightly Rendezvous card sent me into orbit. The body worship he’d do is insane

• Needless to say he’s the best at fingering

• You’re irresistible to him. He breathes you into every kiss, deepening as your bodies continue to merge. There’s no sex without passion, even the “quickies”

• Quickies usually only happen when you’ve teased or provoked him too far during (or on your way to) an event. Otherwise, he likes taking his time with you

• He knows your body like the back of his hand. He’s memorised what triggers the sounds, faces, and jolts your body makes

• Much like Xavier, he loves to hear you cry out his name

❅ ❆ ❃ ❊ ❉ ❅ ❆ ❃ ❊ ❉ ❅ ❆ ❃ ❊ ❉ ❅ ❆ ❃ ❊ ❉ ❅ ❆

[julietsf1]

The Idiot I Call Mine - Lando Norris x BestFriend! Reader

summary: best friends are supposed to share laughs, inside jokes, fries and the occasional late-night drive. what they’re not supposed to do is flirt like it’s a competitive sport or make you question every unspoken rule of friendship. at least, unless your name is Lando Norris apparently. (7.1k words)

content: fluff! friends to lovers; flirty dynamic; mutual pining

an: whaaat? a fic about another driver? yes loves. this is me coming forward as a secret Lando fan. I hope you'll enjoy as much as I did writing this :)

------------------------------------------------------

Lando Norris has this annoying habit of always being right. It’s not even about anything important—it’s just little things. Like the time he guessed exactly how long it would take before I caved and ordered dessert, or when he said I’d end up watching a rom-com tonight even though I claimed I wanted “something deep and meaningful.”

“See?” he said smugly, leaning back on the couch as the opening credits of The Holiday  played. “I know you better than you know yourself.”

“Hardly,” I shot back, tossing a piece of popcorn at him. “You just know I have a weak spot for Jude Law. That doesn’t make you psychic.”

“No, but it does make me an excellent best friend.” He winked, plucking the popcorn off his lap and popping it into his mouth like the show-off he was.

I rolled my eyes, pretending I wasn’t fighting a grin. Lando and I had been inseparable for years, the kind of best friends who finished each other’s sentences and shared a borderline unhealthy obsession with late-night McDonald’s runs. But lately, something had been… different.

Not bad, exactly. Just different. Maybe? I wasn’t even sure to be honest. 

“You’re staring again,” Lando said, breaking into my thoughts. He was sprawled out on the couch, one arm draped over the backrest in a way that felt entirely too casual and yet completely deliberate. His green eyes sparkled with mischief, and his smirk was the kind that could make even the most confident person question their sanity.

“I wasn’t staring,” I lied, grabbing a handful of popcorn and shoving it in my mouth for good measure.

“You were absolutely staring,” he teased, leaning closer. “What’s on your mind, hmm? Thinking about how devastatingly handsome I am? It’s okay—you can admit it.”

“You’re such a joke,” I said, trying to sound unimpressed but failing miserably. “Devastatingly handsome? Please. You look like you just rolled out of bed.”

“Exactly,” he said, flashing a grin. “And yet, here you are, spending your Friday night with me. Interesting choice.”

“I’m here for the popcorn,” I deadpanned, though even I didn’t believe myself. “And because you begged me.”

“I didn’t beg,” he protested. “I suggested strongly. There’s a difference.”

This was us—lighthearted insults, jokes at each other’s expense, and an ease in our conversations that felt like home. If there was something different lately, I told myself it was just my imagination running wild. 

“Speaking of choices,” I said, leaning back against the couch. “What’s the deal with you and your phone wallpaper?”

“What about it?” he asked, feigning innocence.

“Oh, come on, Lando,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “You really expect me to believe you just happened to pick a picture of me for your wallpaper?”

“It’s a great photo,” he said with a shrug. “You look happy. And let’s not pretend your wallpaper isn’t me.”

I froze, caught. He was right—my wallpaper was him, but that wasn’t the point.

“That’s different,” I said quickly. “You look stupid in yours. It’s funny.”

“Ah, so I’m your personal clown now?” he asked, his voice dripping with mock offense. “Good to know my humiliation brings you joy.”

“Always,” I said sweetly, tossing another piece of popcorn his way.

The movie played on in the background, but neither of us was really paying attention. We were too busy pushing each other’s buttons, like always.

“Hey,” Lando said after a while, his tone a little softer. “You’re coming to dinner at Mum’s next weekend, right?”

“Do I have a choice?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Not really,” he said with a grin. “She’s already planning the menu. Something with pasta, probably. You know how she gets when you’re coming over.”

I smiled despite myself. His family had always treated me like one of their own, and his mum had a knack for making me feel special in ways that were both comforting and overwhelming.

“Well, in that case,” I said, pretending to think it over. “I guess I can clear my schedule.”

“Good,” he said, nudging me with his elbow. “I’d be bored without you there.”

It was moments like this—simple and familiar—that stuck with me longer than they should. The way he said things so casually, as if they didn’t carry any weight, even when they somehow did. 

“You’ve got something on your face,” I said suddenly, trying to distract myself.

“Where?” he asked, leaning closer.

“Right there,” I said, tapping the corner of my mouth.

He smirked, deliberately licking the spot where I’d pointed. “Better?”

“Ugh, you’re insufferable,” I said, shoving him away. But I was laughing, and so was he.

“You love it,” he said, and for once, I didn’t argue. Because maybe I did.

As the night went on, the teasing continued, each remark more loaded than the last. By the time the credits rolled, I wasn’t sure if it was the movie or Lando’s lingering glances that had me feeling so off-kilter.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight,” he said, breaking the silence as he stood to clean up the popcorn bowl. “Something on your mind?”

“Just thinking,” I said vaguely, not meeting his gaze.

“About?” he pressed, leaning against the counter with a smirk that said he already knew the answer.

“Nothing important,” I said, grabbing my phone and pretending to scroll.

“Liar,” he said, his voice playful but probing. “You’re terrible at hiding things, you know that?”

I glanced up at him, my heart doing that annoying fluttery thing it had been doing lately. He was standing there like he had all the time in the world, his green eyes locked on mine, and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

“Goodnight, Lando,” I said finally, brushing past him on my way to the couch.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he called after me, his voice laced with amusement.

…

“You know, for someone who claims to be an athlete, you spend an alarming amount of time eating,” I said, glancing at Lando over the top of my menu.

“Carbs are fuel,” he replied, flashing me a grin. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“I understand that we could’ve gone somewhere normal instead of whatever this place is,” I said, gesturing to the overly fancy restaurant. The kind of place where the wine glasses sparkled brighter than the chandeliers, and the menu was full of words I couldn’t pronounce.

“You’re so ungrateful,” he teased, leaning back in his chair. “Do you know how hard it was to get a table here? I had to name-drop myself.”

“Wow,” I said dryly. “The struggle.”

“Exactly. And now you’re here, about to enjoy the finest pasta in town, thanks to me. A little gratitude wouldn’t kill you.”

“Gratitude? You dragged me here under false pretenses. You said this was a ‘low-key spot.’”

“It is low-key,” he argued, gesturing around. “For Monte Carlo standards.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the smile creeping onto my face. This was just how things were with Lando—effortless, easy, and borderline ridiculous.

“Alright, what are you getting?” Lando asked, lowering his menu.

“Fettuccine Alfredo,” I said without hesitation.

“Of course you are,” he said, smirking. “Predictable.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I shot back. “What are you getting, then? Something groundbreaking? Life-changing? Revolutionary?”

“Tagliatelle al tartufo,” he said with a mockingly posh accent.

“Wow,” I said, feigning awe. “Truffle pasta. You’re really pushing the boundaries, Norris.”

“Don’t be jealous just because I have sophisticated taste,” he replied, the smirk never leaving his face.

“‘Sophisticated’ is one way to put it,” I muttered, pretending to study the menu again. “Another is ‘pretentious.’”

“You’ll be begging for a bite,” he said confidently, setting the menu down.

“Please,” I said, scoffing. “You’ll be stealing mine before the plates even hit the table.”

He leaned forward, his grin widening. “You know me so well.”

The food arrived soon after, and, as predicted, we switched plates halfway through without even discussing it. It was second nature by now, like so many other things about us.

“You know,” Lando said, twirling a forkful of fettuccine, “if this whole racing thing doesn’t work out, I could be a food critic.”

“Sure,” I said, deadpan. “Because people are dying to know what Lando Norris thinks about pasta.”

“They would be,” he said, undeterred. “My palate is unparalleled.”

“Your palate consists of pizza, chicken nuggets, and whatever I’m eating,” I shot back.

“And yet, here we are,” he said, gesturing to the table. “Me, enjoying this culinary masterpiece, and you, enjoying my company. Life is good.”

It was shaping up to be another night of easy conversation and mindless teasing until a voice interrupted us.

“Lando?”

I looked up to see two women standing at the edge of our table. They were both tall, blonde, and effortlessly elegant, the kind of women who looked like they belonged in a magazine spread rather than real life.

“Oh, hey!” Lando said, his face lighting up in recognition.

I glanced at him, watching as his entire demeanor shifted ever so slightly. He straightened up, his grin widening just enough to make my stomach twist.

“We haven’t seen you in forever,” one of the women said, her smile bright and practiced.

“I know,” Lando said, leaning back in his chair like he had all the time in the world. “It’s been a while.”

“You look great,” one of them said, her smile bright as she leaned in a little too close.

“So do you,” Lando replied, his tone polite but just warm enough to make me suddenly very interested in my water glass. The conversation floated around me, full of laughter and inside jokes I didn’t understand.

“And who’s this?” one of them finally asked, her gaze flicking to me with polite curiosity.

“This is Y/N,” Lando said, gesturing toward me with a casualness that felt too deliberate. “My best friend.”

Best friend. There it was again.

“Nice to meet you,” I said, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes.

“Likewise,” she replied, her tone perfectly pleasant.

They didn’t linger much longer—just enough to leave their mark before excusing themselves with a wave and a promise to “catch up soon.”

“Old friends of yours?” I asked once they were gone, my voice light but with a slight edge.

“Something like that,” Lando said, taking a sip of his water.

“Something like that?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged, his smirk returning. “They’re sisters. I, uh… may have had a thing with both of them. At different times, obviously.”

My fork froze midair. “Both of them?”

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said, laughing. “It’s not that weird.”

“It’s incredibly weird,” I said, shaking my head.

“I mean, it didn’t overlap or anything,” he added, as if that somehow made it better. “But yeah… sisters.”

I stared at him, equal parts amused and horrified. “That’s… impressive? I guess?”

“Thank you,” he said, grinning like he’d just been handed an award. “Think I should call them again?”

“Sure,” I forced a laugh, stabbing at my pasta. “And then ask if they have any other sisters you might’ve missed.”

He chuckled, clearly oblivious to the sarcasm in my tone. “Good idea. Always room for a hat trick.”

My stomach churned uncomfortably, but I didn’t say anything. Instead, I focused on my plate, hoping he wouldn’t notice the way my mood had shifted.

…

The paddock was its usual chaotic self—teams rushing to prepare for practice sessions, fans peering over barriers for a glimpse of their favorite drivers, and media personnel darting between interviews. I decided to escape the madness for a bit, heading toward the staff catering building for a much-needed coffee.

The line was mercifully short, but as I joined it, I noticed someone already waiting near the front. Tall, dark-haired, and wearing a Ferrari polo with his name—Marco—stitched neatly on the chest. He turned slightly, catching my eye and offering a polite smile.

“Busy morning?” he asked, his tone warm and conversational.

“Something like that,” I replied with a small smile. “You?”

“Always,” he said with a soft chuckle. “But coffee makes it manageable, no?”

I nodded. “A universal truth.”

Marco stepped aside to let me order, a gesture so casual it almost went unnoticed. As I gave my order to the barista, I felt him glance at me again—not invasive, just curious.

“So, not Ferrari,” he said after I stepped back to wait for my coffee.

“Is it that obvious?” I joked.

“A little,” he admitted, his grin widening. “You’re far too relaxed to be one of us.”

“Should I be offended or flattered?” I asked, tilting my head playfully.

“Flattered,” he said easily. “Relaxed is a good thing.”

We fell into an easy rhythm as we waited. Marco was effortlessly charming, asking questions without prying and tossing in a few self-deprecating remarks about Ferrari’s chaos.

“You’re here with a team?” he asked eventually.

“A friend,” I said vaguely.

“Lucky friend,” he said, his tone light but genuine.

I laughed softly. “That’s what everyone keeps telling me.”

Marco opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, a familiar voice cut through the hum of conversation.

“There you are.”

I turned to see Lando approaching, his expression relaxed but his eyes sharper than usual.

“Hey,” I said, surprised. “I thought you were doing media.”

“Finished early,” he said, stepping closer. His gaze flicked briefly to Marco, who stood quietly by my side. “And I figured I’d find you here.”

“Good instincts,” I said lightly, though something about his sudden appearance felt… deliberate.

Marco offered his hand to Lando, ever polite. “Marco. Ferrari engineering.”

“Lando,” he replied, shaking his hand. “McLaren driving.”

Marco chuckled. “I know who you are. Good to meet you.”

“You too,” Lando said, his tone friendly but with an edge I couldn’t quite place.

The barista called my name, and I turned to grab my coffee, giving them a moment to exchange polite words. By the time I returned, Marco was stepping away with his own drink.

“Enjoy the rest of your day,” he said, offering me a small wave before disappearing into the crowd.

Lando watched him go before turning back to me. “Who was that?”

“Marco,” I said simply.

“And what was Marco talking to you about?” he asked, his tone too casual to be entirely innocent.

I raised an eyebrow. “Coffee, mostly. Why?”

“No reason,” he said quickly, taking a sip of my drink.

I studied him for a moment, noting the way his shoulders tensed ever so slightly. “You’re acting weird.”

“I’m not acting weird,” he said defensively.

“You’re definitely acting weird.”

Lando sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Alright, fine. I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, genuinely baffled.

“He was flirting,” Lando said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I blinked. “He was being nice.”

“Nice,” Lando repeated, his voice laced with skepticism. “Sure. That’s one way to put it.”

“Lando, he’s just a guy who works for Ferrari,” I said, shaking my head.

“Exactly,” he said, as if that proved his point.

There was a beat of silence as I processed his words.

“You sound jealous,” I said finally, testing the waters.

“Jealous?” he scoffed, though the flicker of something in his eyes gave him away. “Hardly. I just think you can do way better than some guy who chats you up in the coffee line.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I?” he asked, smirking now.

“Yes,” I said firmly, though the warmth in my chest betrayed me.

We walked back toward the McLaren garage, his mood lightening with every step. By the time we arrived, he was back to his usual self—chatting with the mechanics and laughing at some joke I’d already missed.

But his words stayed with me, replaying in my mind as I sat down with my coffee. My coffee which Lando had somehow already drank half of. 

…

The McLaren lounge was a rare oasis of calm in the chaos of a race weekend. Engineers hustled past the windows, radios crackled with updates, and somewhere in the distance, an engine roared to life. But in here, it was all plush couches, soft lighting, and a distinct lack of urgency.

I was curled up on one end of the couch, flipping through a magazine, while Oscar and Lando lounged on the other side. Lando, as usual, couldn’t sit still. He was draped sideways over the armrest, absently spinning a water bottle in his hands.

“Alright,” Lando announced, breaking the comfortable silence. “Would you rather fight one horse-sized duck or a hundred duck-sized horses?”

I looked up from my magazine, narrowing my eyes. “That’s the best you’ve got?”

“It’s an important question,” he insisted, his grin wide and mischievous.

I pretended to ponder for a moment. “One horse-sized duck. Definitely.”

Lando gaped at me like I’d just declared something outrageous. “Terrible answer. Absolutely terrible.”

“It’s the smart answer,” I shot back, sitting up straighter. “You outmaneuver one big target instead of exhausting yourself trying to wrangle a hundred tiny ones.”

“Do you even know how terrifying a horse-sized duck would be?” Lando asked, his voice rising in mock disbelief.

“And do you know how terrifying a hundred duck-sized horses would be?” I countered, raising an eyebrow.

Lando leaned forward, his grin widening. “Oh, come on. You’re telling me you’d rather face one giant, angry duck with a wingspan bigger than this couch?”

“Absolutely,” I said confidently. “Ducks aren’t that scary.”

“They can bite, you know,” he shot back, gesturing dramatically. “One snap, and you’re done for.”

I smirked, leaning closer. “I think I’d survive. Besides, I have a secret weapon.”

“What’s that?” he asked, his eyes narrowing playfully.

“You,” I said, deadpan. “I’ll just toss you in its path and run.”

Lando gasped, clutching his chest in mock betrayal. “Wow. That’s cold, Y/N. I thought we were a team.”

“We are,” I said, grinning. “But only if you pick the right answer next time.”

For a moment, he was quiet, his grin faltering just slightly as he met my gaze. It wasn’t much, just a flicker of something softer beneath the banter. But it was enough to make my stomach do that annoying little flip I’d been trying to ignore.

“Lando,” Oscar interjected, his tone casual but pointed. “You’re staring.”

“I am not,” Lando said quickly, his ears turning the faintest shade of pink as he looked away.

“You are,” Oscar said, leaning back with a smirk.

“You’re imagining things,” Lando muttered, crossing his arms.

Oscar snorted but didn’t press the issue, instead grabbing his phone and scrolling through it idly. But the look he shot Lando wasn’t lost on me—or Lando, for that matter.

As the banter settled into silence, I decided to grab a drink from the catering area, leaving the two of them alone.

The moment the door swung shut behind me, Oscar struck. “Mate, you’re not exactly subtle, you know.”

“About what?” Lando asked, feigning innocence as he fidgeted with the water bottle.

Oscar didn’t even look up from his phone. “About Y/N.”

“What about her?”

Oscar set his phone down, leveling Lando with a knowing look. “You’re acting like a lovesick puppy every time she’s around.”

Lando scoffed, though the tips of his ears betrayed him again. “That’s ridiculous. We’re just friends.”

“Sure,” Oscar said, dragging out the word like he was savoring it. “That’s why you light up like a Christmas tree whenever she walks in the room.”

“I do not,” Lando said defensively, but his voice lacked conviction.

“You do,” Oscar replied, leaning back with an exaggerated sigh. “Mate, you’re glaring holes into the back of her head every time she talks to someone else. And don’t even get me started on how you were watching her during the duck-and-horse debate like she’d just solved world peace.”

“That’s—” Lando started, then stopped, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not like that.”

“Right,” Oscar said, his smirk firmly in place. “It’s exactly like that, but go off.”

Lando opened his mouth, then closed it again, clearly searching for the right words. “It’s… we’ve known each other forever. It’s Y/N.”

Oscar nodded, as if that made sense, but his smirk didn’t waver. “Don’t you think it would be time to change that soon? You two are exhausting.”

Lando shot him a look, but there was no real heat behind it.

“I’m just saying,” Oscar said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “You’re completely gone for her. Admit it already.”

Lando groaned, leaning back against the couch and running a hand through his hair. “You’re the worst, you know that?”

“Yeah,” Oscar said, grinning now. “But I’m right.”

Lando didn’t respond, his gaze drifting to the door where I’d just left. And for the first time, he let himself wonder if maybe—just maybe—Oscar was onto something.

…

The moment we walked into George’s celebration, the energy hit like a wave. The room was packed with familiar faces—drivers, engineers, and friends—dressed to the nines in that effortless way people in motorsport always seemed to manage. String lights twinkled across the ceiling, soft jazz played over the speakers, and a steady hum of conversation filled the air.

“You’re going to owe me for this,” I teased, glancing at Lando. “Dragging me here after wasting twenty minutes deciding between two identical shirts.”

“They weren’t identical,” Lando replied with a roll of his eyes, his hand resting lightly on the small of my back as we weaved through the crowd. “One had a darker stitch.”

“Completely life-changing,” I said dryly, though I couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my lips.

“See? You get it,” he shot back with a grin, steering us toward a booth near the bar.

The way his hand lingered, warm and steady, was something I tried not to think too much about. It was just Lando being Lando—playful, touchy, and completely oblivious to the little flips my stomach insisted on doing whenever he leaned too close.

We found our way to a booth not far from the bar, where Alexandra and Charles were already seated. Charles was gesturing animatedly about something, while Alexandra sat with her usual poised grace, sipping champagne. When she saw us, her face lit up.

“Enfin, vous êtes là !” Alexandra exclaimed, waving us over. (Finally, you’re here!)

“Lando a changé de chemise trois fois,” I replied, throwing him a look. (Lando changed his shirt three times.)

Charles chuckled, leaning back with a smirk. “Toujours dramatique, hein ?” (Always dramatic, huh?)

“English,” Lando whined as we slid into the booth. “You’re ganging up on me in French. It’s not fair.”

“Pauvre bébé,” I teased, patting his arm lightly. (Poor baby.)

“Whatever that means,” he muttered, though the grin tugging at his lips made it clear he wasn’t upset.

The conversation flowed easily between the four of us. Lando, of course, dominated the chatter, weaving an elaborate story about George’s awkward rookie days. His expressions were so animated, his gestures so over-the-top, that even Charles—usually the calm and composed one—was cracking up by the end.

“That’s not true,” I said, nudging Lando with my elbow. “You’re exaggerating again.”

“I’m not!” he protested, his green eyes wide with mock innocence. “It’s all true. Every word.”

“Sure it is,” I replied, raising an eyebrow.

“Back me up here!” he said, turning to Charles.

Charles raised a brow, taking a deliberate sip of his drink. “I wasn’t there, but… I wouldn’t put it past him.”

Alexandra laughed softly, glancing at me. “Toujours l’acteur dramatique, ce Lando.” (Always the drama actor, that Lando.)

“Hey,” Lando said, pointing at her. “I know that wasn’t a compliment.”

I smirked, leaning closer. “It absolutely wasn’t.”

He gasped dramatically, his hand over his chest. “Betrayed by my own friends. I’ll never recover.”

“You’ll survive,” I said, brushing him off, though the warmth in his gaze lingered just a beat too long.

Lando eventually excused himself to grab drinks, leaving me to chat with Alexandra and Charles. As soon as he was out of earshot, Alexandra leaned in, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Il est tellement évident qu’il a un faible pour toi,” she said softly, her voice full of amusement. (It’s so obvious he has a thing for you.)

“Quoi?” I asked, my cheeks heating instantly. (What?)

“Ouvre les yeux,” she said, smirking. (Open your eyes.)

Charles chuckled, sipping his drink as he watched the exchange. “C’est écrit partout sur son visage.” (It’s written all over his face.)

“Stop,” I said, shaking my head. “You’re imagining things.”

Alexandra raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue, her expression saying everything her words didn’t.

At the bar, Lando was cornered by Carlos, who leaned casually against the counter, his expression smug. 

“You know,” Carlos said, his tone casual, “you’re not very subtle.”

“What are you talking about?” Lando asked, though his focus kept drifting toward the booth where I was sitting.

Carlos raised his drink, gesturing toward me. “You’ve been staring at her all night, hermano. Why don’t you just tell her how you feel?”

Lando stiffened, his grin faltering. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Just tell her,” Carlos said, swirling his drink lazily.

“It’s not that simple,” Lando replied, his voice quieter now.

Carlos raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

“Because if I mess this up, I lose her,” Lando admitted, glancing toward our booth.

Carlos tilted his head, studying him. “You’re scared. That’s what this is.”

“Of course I’m scared,” Lando muttered, running a hand through his hair. “She’s my best friend. If it doesn’t work—”

“You’ll never know if you don’t try,” Carlos interrupted, his voice softer now. “But you’d better do something soon.”

Carlos’s smirk softened slightly, but before Lando could reply, Liam Lawson appeared at the bar.

“Who’s the girl with Charles and Alexandra?” Liam asked, nodding toward the booth. “She single?”

Carlos grinned mischievously. “Yeah, she is—go for it.”

Lando’s head snapped toward Carlos, his glare sharp enough to cut glass. “Carlos.”

“What?” Carlos said, feigning innocence. “Just giving the kid a shot.”

…

Liam approached with the kind of confidence that only a Red Bull driver could pull off.

“Hey,” he said, sliding into the seat across from me. “You’re Y/N, right?”

I blinked, momentarily surprised but recovering quickly. “That’s me. And you are?”

“Liam Lawson,” he said, extending a hand.

I shook it, his grip firm but not overbearing. “Nice to meet you.”

“How do you know George?” he asked, leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on the table as if he had all the time in the world.

“Through Lando,” I replied, keeping my tone polite but measured. His easy demeanor was almost disarming, but there was something about the way he looked at me that made me hyper-aware of my surroundings.

“Ah, Lando,” he said with a soft chuckle. “Lucky guy. You two seem pretty close.”

“We’ve been friends for a long time,” I said simply, taking a sip of my drink and trying not to overthink his comment.

“Well,” he said, tilting his head slightly, “his loss if he hasn’t made a move yet.”

That caught me off guard. My gaze flicked to his, searching for any hint of a joke, but he was entirely serious—or at least good at pretending to be.

“Excuse me?” I asked, my voice betraying my surprise.

Liam grinned wider, clearly enjoying himself. “Just saying. If I were him, I wouldn’t be sitting over there, letting someone else steal your attention.”

The comment was bold, and I didn’t quite know how to respond. My thoughts were a mess of confusion, flattery, and something else I didn’t want to name. Before I could formulate a response, the familiar sound of Lando’s voice cut through the air.

“Liam,” he said smoothly, stepping up to the table. His tone was calm, but his green eyes held a sharpness that made me sit up a little straighter.

Liam glanced up, raising an eyebrow. “What’s up?”

“Christian’s looking for you,” Lando said, his tone casual but firm. “Something about debrief notes.”

Liam frowned, clearly reluctant. “Now?”

“Yeah,” Lando said, nodding. “He seemed pretty keen.”

Liam hesitated, his gaze flicking between me and Lando like he was weighing his options. Finally, he sighed, pushing himself to his feet. “Alright. Nice meeting you, Y/N.”

“You too,” I replied, watching him leave with a mixture of relief and something I couldn’t quite pin down.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Lando lingered for a moment, his hands shoved into his pockets as he avoided my gaze.

“That,” Charles said, his tone thick with amusement, “was the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard.”

Lando shot him a glare, his ears turning faintly red. “Mind your own business, Charles.”

Charles just smirked, raising his glass in mock surrender. “Whatever you say.”

I didn’t say anything, but a flicker of suspicion settled in the back of my mind.

Had Lando just…? No. That would be ridiculous. Wouldn’t it?

“Let’s get a drink,” Alexandra said, pulling me to my feet.

…

As Alexandra and I made our way back toward the booth, she nudged me gently, her eyes glinting with curiosity.

“Lando looked like he was about to breathe fire earlier,” she said casually, sipping her drink.

I laughed softly, trying to deflect. “He’s always protective. It’s nothing.”

“Protective?” Alexandra repeated, raising an eyebrow. “That was not protective, chérie. That was jealousy.”

I opened my mouth to respond but stopped short as we neared the booth, Lando and Charles’s voices filtering through the hum of the room.

“It will just be awkward, mate,” Lando said, his tone low and almost resigned.

“Just talk about it,” Charles replied simply.

“It’s not that simple,” Lando muttered. “She will never be more than just a friend.”

The words hit me like a punch to the stomach. My chest tightened, and the air around me seemed to still. Alexandra’s hand touched my arm gently, but I barely noticed.

“I— I need some air,” I managed, turning away before she could respond.

The ache in my chest grew with every step I took, his words echoing in my head.

She will never be more than just a friend.

And just like that, everything I thought I’d imagined felt painfully real.

…

I turned my phone face down on the table at Gigi’s, willing myself not to glance at the screen again. The missed calls from Lando were piling up, his name lighting up my notifications every half hour like clockwork. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to him—I did. But every time I thought about his voice, his laugh, his damn words, the ache in my chest tightened.

She will never be more than just a friend.

I shook my head, forcing the thought away as the waiter arrived with my order. The smell of rich, cheesy pasta wafted up, comforting in the way only food could be. I twirled a forkful absentmindedly, hoping the carbs would somehow fill the space that had been hollowed out the night before.

The familiar growl of an engine outside pulled my attention from my plate. I glanced toward the window and froze.

The unmistakable silhouette of Lando’s Miura parked just outside, sleek and shining even under the soft glow of streetlights. A moment later, the door opened, and there he was, stepping out effortless as usual—but his expression wasn’t the easygoing grin I was used to. He looked… worried.

Before I could decide what to do, he spotted me through the window, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. He pushed through the door, his eyes locking onto mine immediately.

“There you are,” he said, relief evident in his tone as he approached my table.

I blinked, caught off guard. “Lando? What are you doing here?”

He pulled out the chair across from me, sitting down without asking. “Looking for you.”

My heart twisted. “Why?”

“Because you’ve been ignoring me all day,” he said, his voice quieter now.

I looked away, focusing on my fork. “I had my phone off that’s all.”

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, studying me with an intensity that made my skin prickle.

“I knew I’d find you here,” he said finally, his voice softer but steady.

I glanced up, frowning. “What?”

“You always turn to cheesy Italian food when you’re upset,” he said with a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s your thing.”

The casual observation caught me off guard, a mix of warmth and frustration bubbling in my chest.

“So what?” I said, my tone sharper than I intended. “You’re some kind of expert on me now?”

He sighed, leaning forward, his elbows resting on the table. “Y/N, I know you better than anyone. And I know something’s wrong.”

I didn’t answer, twisting my fork in the pasta and pretending to be engrossed in my meal. But the usual comfort it brought was absent, replaced by the uncomfortable weight of his gaze.

“You’re not yourself,” Lando said after a moment, his voice quieter now. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” I said quickly, my tone clipped.

“Don’t lie to me,” he replied, his tone more serious than I was used to.

I set my fork down, the clink of metal against porcelain louder than it should have been. “Maybe I just don’t feel like talking.”

His eyes softened, his frustration giving way to concern. “Y/N…”

“Lando, I’m fine,” I interrupted, though the words felt hollow.

He didn’t push further, but I could see the gears turning in his head. He sat back, glancing down at my half-finished plate of pasta before gesturing to the waiter.

“Can we get the check, please?” he asked, pulling out his wallet.

I frowned. “What are you doing?”

“Paying,” he said simply, standing as the waiter approached.

“For me?”

“Yes,” he said, looking down at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. “Come on.”

“Come on where?” I asked, my brow furrowing.

“You’ll see,” he said, extending a hand.

I hesitated for a moment before letting him pull me to my feet.

The warm night air hit us as we stepped out of Gigi’s, the soft sound of waves in the distance mingling with the faint hum of the city. Lando didn’t say anything, his grip on my hand firm but gentle as he led me toward Larvotto Beach, just a short walk away.

“Lando, seriously,” I said as we reached the sand. “What’s going on?”

He stopped, turning to face me, his green eyes brighter under the moonlight.

“We need to talk.” he said simply.

And just like that, my heart started racing, even though I had no idea what he was going to say.

The beach stretched out before us, quiet except for the rhythmic crash of waves against the shore. The city lights glittered faintly in the distance, their reflection dancing on the dark water. Lando walked beside me, his shoulders tense, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets.

For once, I didn’t fill the silence. I didn’t trust myself to. My thoughts were a whirlwind—last night’s overheard words still fresh in my mind, colliding with the unexpected intensity of this moment.

We walked like that for a while, the sand soft beneath our feet, until Lando came to a sudden stop. He turned to face me, his green eyes catching the moonlight in a way that made my stomach twist.

“I don’t even know where to start,” he said, running a hand through his hair.

I crossed my arms, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it. “Try the beginning.”

He huffed out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “The beginning’s too far back. I’d be here all night.”

“Good thing I don’t have anywhere else to be,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended.

For a moment, he just looked at me, his expression softening. “Y/N, I have a lot of friends. Like, a lot of friends.”

I blinked, confused. “Okay?”

“But none of them get to me the way you do,” he said, his voice dropping.

I stared at him, my breath catching. “What are you saying?”

He glanced out at the water, like he was searching for courage in the rolling waves. “I mean… you’re not just anyone to me. You never have been. You’re the first person I think of when something happens—good or bad. And the idea of upsetting you? It’s unbearable.”

My throat tightened as his words sank in.

“Like today,” he continued, his voice cracking slightly. “You ignored my calls, and I couldn’t stop thinking about whether I’d done something wrong. Whether I hurt you somehow. Because if I did…” He stopped, exhaling sharply, and shook his head. “I can’t stand the thought of you being upset because of me.”

I didn’t respond, too caught up in the flood of emotions his words were pulling from me.

“When you’re upset, it breaks my heart,” he admitted, his voice softer now. “And when you laugh… it’s like my entire day gets brighter. When you’re sad, it feels like my world’s falling apart.”

“Lando,” I started, but he held up a hand, shaking his head.

“I’m not done,” he said, his words tumbling out now, faster and more frantic. “I’ve been feeling like this for so long, and I thought I could just push it aside or pretend it didn’t matter, but it does. It matters so much. And if I messed up—if I’ve ruined this somehow—I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“You didn’t—”

“I’m in love with you,” he blurted, his eyes locking onto mine. “I think I’ve been in love with you for a while now, but I’ve been too scared to admit it. And I know this might change everything, but I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way.”

I froze, his confession slamming into me with the force of a tidal wave.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t even know if this makes sense. I just… I can’t lose you, Y/N.”

Without thinking, I stepped closer, grabbed his face, and kissed him.

For a second, he was completely still, caught off guard. But then he kissed me back, his hands slipping to my waist as he pulled me closer. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, but it deepened quickly, making the world around me disappear.

When we finally pulled apart, his forehead rested against mine, both of us catching our breath.

“So… I’m guessing you feel the same?” he asked, a small, nervous smile tugging at his lips.

“You’re so slow sometimes,” I murmured, shaking my head with a laugh.

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s a yes,” I said, smiling.

The relief on his face was almost comical. He pulled me into a hug, his arms wrapping around me tightly like he never wanted to let go.

“I’ve wanted to tell you for so long,” he murmured into my hair.

“And I’ve wanted to hear it,” I admitted, my voice muffled against his chest.

He pulled back just enough to look at me, his brow furrowing slightly. “But… yesterday. Did I say something? Did I—”

I hesitated, my stomach twisting. “I overheard you talking to Charles.”

His face paled. “Oh.”

“You said I’d never be more than a friend,” I said, my voice wavering.

Lando winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “God, Y/N, that’s not how I meant it at all. I said that because I thought I didn’t stand a chance. Like… you’re so important to me, and I didn’t want to mess up what we already had by wanting something I thought I could never have.”

He looked at me with a mix of regret and hope. “I’m an idiot. It wasn’t because I didn’t want more—it’s because I didn’t think I could have it.”

“You are an idiot,” I said, my lips twitching into a small smile. “But you’re my idiot.”

He laughed softly, shaking his head. “Yours, huh? Bold claim.”

I tilted my head, my grin widening. “Think you can find someone else to deal with you the way I do?”

He raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “Deal with me? You mean worship my charm and tolerate my perfection?”

“Oh, please,” I shot back, rolling my eyes. “The only thing I’m worshipping is the patience I’ve built up putting up with you.”

His hands slid to my waist, pulling me slightly closer, his smirk turning more mischievous. “You love me. Admit it.”

“Not a chance,” I said, even as my pulse quickened.

His gaze dropped to my lips for the briefest moment before meeting my eyes again, his voice softening but still teasing. “You’re a terrible liar, you know.”

Before I could respond, he closed the gap, kissing me again with a fierceness that took me by surprise. This wasn’t the hesitant, nervous kiss from before. It was confident, teasing, like everything we’d been holding back had finally snapped into place.

I kissed him back, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt to pull him closer. His hands tightened on my waist, grounding me as he smiled against my lips, murmuring, “Still denying it?”

I broke the kiss just long enough to catch my breath, raising an eyebrow. “You think one kiss is going to make me fold?”

“Two,” he said smugly, leaning in for another without waiting for an answer.

I rolled my eyes but didn’t stop him, meeting him halfway this time. His lips curved into a grin mid-kiss, and I could feel his stupid, insufferable smugness radiating off him.

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” I asked when we pulled apart, my voice laced with mock annoyance.

“Unbelievably,” he replied, his grin widening as he rested his forehead against mine. “And don’t pretend you’re not.”

“Maybe I am,” I admitted, smirking. “But if you keep talking, I might start regretting it.”

He laughed, pulling me closer. “Alright, no more talking. For now.”

“Good,” I said, leaning in again, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore fading into the background as everything else fell away.

The weight of everything unsaid was gone, replaced by the warmth of realizing we’d both been fighting our way toward the same truth: we’d always belonged to each other.

When we broke apart, Lando’s grin turned mischievous, and I immediately knew he was up to something. Before I could react, he scooped me up effortlessly and started toward the water.

“Lando! Don’t you dare!” I shrieked, squirming in his arms as laughter bubbled out of me.

“Payback for all those times you called me an idiot,” he teased, stopping just as the waves lapped at his shoes.

He finally set me down, his smirk smug and unapologetic. “Admit it. You love me anyway.”

Figures. I’m in love with someone who steals my fries and once confidently argued that dolphins were just “sea dogs.” I wouldn’t have it any other way though.

[missarchive]

american jesus ☆

spencer reid

part one part two part three part four

summary; What starts as a seemingly innocent exchange quickly escalates into a game of trust, control, and desire. Spencer offers you more than just financial stability; he gives you attention, adoration, and a connection so intimate it leaves you breathless. From whispered words over the phone to moments of vulnerability, he knows exactly how to unravel you, guiding you to discover sides of yourself you never knew existed.

But with every dollar he deposits into your account and every command that leaves his lips, the boundaries between professionalism and pleasure blur. As you dive deeper into this intoxicating arrangement, you can’t help but wonder: are you just another outlet for his control, or has this brilliant man fallen for you just as deeply as you’ve begun to fall for him?

cw; +18 minors dni, masturbation (f), hints at masturbation (m), nudes, spencer calls reader "little girl" once, phone sex, sugar baby/daddy dynamics, inexperienced reader, pleasure dom spencer, fingering, dirty talk

an; this is the first part in my new series! as always, feedback is greatly appreciated. P.s. this is written with jesus reid in mind <3 xoxo

The idea had been absurd from the beginning—a drunken suggestion tossed out during a late-night study break, your friend’s cheeks flushed from the cheap wine you’d both been sipping.

“You should totally do it,” she’d said, her voice a mix of mischief and daring as she scrolled through her phone. “It’s not like you have to… do anything. Just talk. Flirt a little. Get someone to pay for your coffee—or your rent. What’s the harm?”

You’d laughed it off then, brushing aside her suggestion with a half-hearted joke about the kind of people who used those sites. But now, with your landlord’s polite but insistent emails piling up, along with the crushing weight of tuition bills and credit card debt, her words didn’t seem so laughable.

Desperation, you’d learned, had a way of reshaping your boundaries.

So, against every instinct that told you to slam the laptop shut and find another way, you clicked the link she’d jokingly sent that night.

The homepage was a garish blend of pink and gold, its polished glamour doing little to mask the transactional nature of it all. The tagline—"Where connections are made"—was a cruel euphemism for what this really was: a marketplace. A place where companionship, or at least the illusion of it, had a price tag.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard for a long time before you finally typed in a username: laceandliterature.

The flood of messages came almost instantly.

@ hungandrich; Hey, beautiful 😘

@ olderseekingyounger; I can show you the world 🌍💎

@ MrNaughty4U; $5k a week to be my princess. No strings attached 💵

It was overwhelming, a cascade of propositions ranging from saccharine to predatory. Some were masked in politeness, others made no effort to conceal their intentions. Your stomach churned as you skimmed through them, the realisation sinking in that you were just another product on a shelf.

And then, just as you were about to close the browser and pretend this had never happened, a new message pinged.

It was short, direct—refreshingly so:

[new chat from: @ thefourthdoctor]

@ thefourthdoctor; Intriguing profile. Shall we talk?

No emojis, no extravagant promises. Just a simple, confident statement.

You hesitated, your heart racing as you clicked on the profile. The picture was blurry, as if taken in haste, but it revealed enough: dark, wavy hair that framed sharp, intelligent eyes behind a pair of glasses. His bio was sparse but intriguing, mentioning books, travel, and a keen interest in "meaningful conversations."

Something about it—about him—felt different. Not just the lack of overtly transactional language, but the quiet assurance in his words.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard.

This was a bad idea. You knew it was a bad idea. But against your better judgment, you typed out a response.

@ laceandliterature; I suppose that depends on what you want to talk about.

The reply came almost immediately, as if he’d been waiting.

@ thefourthdoctor; Anything but the obvious.

The words were simple, but the subtext was unmistakable: he wasn’t here for what everyone else seemed to want. Or maybe he was just better at hiding it. No sleazy innuendos. No dick pics. No hollow promises of private jets or weekend getaways. Not even the tired clichés of "Hey, gorgeous" or “What’s your body count?”—just a question.

It was startling in its simplicity, almost disarming. And for that exact reason, it made you pause. The absence of the usual vulgarity felt almost like a trick, a trap designed to lure you into a false sense of security. You had learned the hard way to be cautious online. Yet, despite yourself, you couldn’t help but be intrigued.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard as you glanced at his username again.

A click brought up his profile, your curiosity outweighing your skepticism. The photo was blurry, clearly taken without much thought to lighting or angles. It wasn’t like the polished, professional headshots some of the other profiles sported. Still, you could make out the basics: slightly messy, long curly dark hair, intelligent eyes framed by glasses, and an awkward sort of handsomeness that felt... real.

The bio was brief—almost frustratingly so.

"Bibliophile. Traveler. Interested in meaningful conversations and unconventional connections."

It lacked the arrogance and ostentation of the others you’d scrolled past, the ones who listed their wealth or their penchant for “petite brunettes.” Instead, it was vague, yet oddly specific in its sincerity.

Your chest tightened, a strange mix of apprehension and curiosity tugging at you. Was this calculated, or was it simply honest? And why did it feel more dangerous than the others?

Still, you typed.

Your heartbeat quickened as you debated your next move. The smart thing would be to leave it at that, maybe even block him. After all, you weren’t here for emotional entanglements. This was supposed to be transactional—a simple trade: your time and charm for their money and attention. A means to an end.

Yet, against your better judgment, you stayed.

@ laceandliterature; The obvious is easier to avoid than you think, but meaningful conversations? That’s a tall order here.

There was a long pause, long enough that you started to wonder if you’d misjudged him. But then, the reply came:

@ thefourthdoctor; It depends on who you’re talking to.

You stared at the screen, the simplicity of his words sending a ripple of unease through you. There was no bravado, no performance. He was direct, confident, and—most dangerously—intriguing.

The seconds stretched into minutes as you debated what to say next. This was different from the other messages. He wasn’t dangling wealth in front of you like a shiny object or trying to buy your interest with empty promises.

And yet, the very absence of those things made you wonder what he wanted. Because he wanted something—everyone on this site did. That was the nature of it.

@ laceandliterature; Okay. What do you want to talk about?

His reply was immediate, as if he’d been waiting for you to ask:

@ thefourthdoctor; Tell me what brought you here.

The question hit like a dart, sharp and precise. Your stomach tightened as you read it again, the blunt honesty of it stripping away the thin veil you’d been hiding behind. No one had asked that before—not like this.

Most of the messages you’d received had operated on unspoken rules: you pretend this is normal, and they pretend they’re just being generous. But this man wasn’t pretending. He was asking you to be real in a space built on pretense.

And for reasons you couldn’t quite explain, you felt compelled to answer.

Your fingers trembled slightly over the keyboard. What could you even say? The truth? That you were drowning under the weight of your bills, your student loans, your own stubborn pride? That desperation had led you here, to a website where relationships had price tags and intimacy was commodified?

But what stopped you wasn’t the shame of your situation—it was him. The way he asked, as if the answer mattered. As if you mattered.

The tension in your chest twisted tighter as you typed.

@ laceandliterature; The same thing that brings everyone here, I suppose. Necessity.

You hit send before you could overthink it, before you could soften the edges of the truth. The reply came quickly.

@ thefourthdoctor; Necessity takes many forms. Which is yours?

You stared at the screen, his words pulling something loose inside you. This wasn’t idle curiosity. He was pushing you, peeling back the layers you hadn’t even realized you were wearing. And damn it, you wanted to push back.

@ laceandliterature; Does it matter?

You wrote, the edge in your tone slipping into the words.

The pause before his reply was longer this time, long enough to make you wonder if you’d misstepped. But then it came, and it was nothing you expected.

@ thefourthdoctor; It matters if you want it to.

The simplicity of his words sent a jolt through you, more potent than any overture of wealth or charm could have been. There was no condescension, no judgment. Just quiet, unnerving confidence.

You leaned back in your chair, running a hand through your hair. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. These conversations were supposed to be easy—shallow exchanges where you could slip into a version of yourself that didn’t feel the weight of real life pressing down on her. But with him, there was no slipping into anything.

He wasn’t letting you.

@ laceandliterature; What about you?

You typed, throwing the question back at him, daring him to offer you the same vulnerability he was asking of you. 

@ laceandliterature; Why are you here?

His reply was immediate, almost as if he’d been expecting the question.

@ thefourthdoctor; Curiosity.

You frowned at the screen, the single word both frustrating and enticing. It was vague but deliberate, leaving just enough room for interpretation to keep you hooked.

@ laceandliterature; Curiosity about what? 

The next message sent a shiver through you:

@ thefourthdoctor; You.

Your breath caught. One word, and yet it felt like he’d reached through the screen, pulling you closer, tethering you to him in a way that was as exhilarating as it was terrifying.

You hesitated, the heat rising in your cheeks as you considered how to respond. This wasn’t the typical transactional banter you’d anticipated when you signed up. He wasn’t offering money or promises of luxury. He wasn’t trying to seduce you with extravagance. Instead, he was drawing you in with something far more dangerous: attention.

And the worst part? You wanted it.

@ laceandliterature; Careful. That kind of curiosity can be expensive.

This time, the pause felt deliberate, a beat of silence meant to let your words settle. When his reply came, it was sharp, confident, and devastatingly effective.

@ thefourthdoctor; I don’t mind paying for what I value. Isn’t that what this is about, anyway?

Your breath hitched, the implications of his words hitting you like a shockwave. This wasn’t flirtation—it was a proposition. But not the kind you’d grown to expect on this site. He wasn’t offering to buy your time or affection outright; he was telling you that he saw something in you worth pursuing.

And that made him infinitely more dangerous.

Your heart raced as you stared at the screen, torn between the instinct to pull back and the magnetic pull of his presence. This wasn’t just about money anymore. This was about control, power, the careful dance of who would give and who would take.

You sat frozen, his last message glowing on the screen like an unspoken dare.

"I don’t mind paying for what I value."

The words reverberated through you, sharp and calculated, leaving no room for misinterpretation. This wasn’t a line meant to charm or impress. It was a statement of intent—a declaration of control.

And it was working.

Your chest tightened as you typed, your fingers moving before your brain caught up.

@ laceandliterature; Value is subjective.

The moment you hit send, you regretted it. It felt flippant, like you were trying to undermine the weight of his words. But maybe that was exactly what you needed to do—to wrest back some semblance of control in this conversation that was starting to feel far too intimate.

The reply came after a pause that felt excruciatingly long:

@ thefourthdoctor; It is. But I’m a man who knows how to discern.

Your throat tightened, the confidence in his words striking a chord deep within you. He wasn’t just playing the game—he was setting the rules. And despite yourself, you found it maddeningly enticing.

@ laceandliterature; Discernment is rare here. 

You replied, leaning into the dynamic, testing the boundaries of this strange connection.

His next message came faster this time, as if he’d been waiting for you to lean in:

@ thefourthdoctor; So is honesty. Tell me, how rare are you?

Your breath hitched, your cheeks flushing as you stared at the question. It wasn’t what you expected—not here, not from someone you’d never met. And yet, it was the kind of question you couldn’t dismiss with a coy quip or vague answer.

@ laceandliterature; Enough to know my worth. 

You typed, surprising even yourself with the boldness of your response.

His reply came swiftly.

@ thefourthdoctor; Good. Then you’ll understand why I won’t insult you with empty offers. Tell me what you want.

Your pulse quickened. There it was—the shift you’d been waiting for, the moment the conversation turned from hypothetical to concrete. But this was different from the others. He wasn’t throwing numbers at you, wasn’t dangling luxury in front of you like bait. He was putting the power in your hands, asking you to decide the terms.

It was intoxicating. And terrifying.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, a thousand thoughts racing through your mind. What did you want? Money was the obvious answer—wasn’t it? That was why you were here in the first place. But now, with him, it didn’t feel so simple.

@ laceandliterature; That depends… What are you offering?

The pause before his response was agonizing, each second stretching longer than the last. And then it came:

@ thefourthdoctor; Time. Money. Attention. Answers, if you’re brave enough to ask the right questions.

Your breath caught, the weight of his words settling over you like a heavy cloak. He wasn’t offering material things, at least not yet. He was offering something far more valuable—and far more dangerous.

You swallowed hard, your palms damp as you considered your next move. He’d shifted the power dynamic yet again, pulling you deeper into a game you weren’t entirely sure you knew how to play.

@ laceandliterature; And what do you want in return?

The question leaving you more vulnerable than you cared to admit.

His response was immediate, his words a quiet, commanding echo in your mind:

@ thefourthdoctor; Exactly what you’re willing to give me.

The simplicity of his answer hit you harder than any declaration of wealth or desire could have. It wasn’t just about money or power or control—it was about you. Your choices, your limits, your willingness to engage in this careful, intoxicating dance.

And that realisation sent a shiver down your spine.

For a moment, you stared at the screen, your pulse thrumming in your ears. You could walk away now. Close the laptop, block his profile, and pretend this never happened. But the truth was, you didn’t want to.

Because for the first time since you’d joined this site, you felt seen. Not as an object, not as a commodity, but as a person.

His words clung to you, each syllable daring you to define what you were prepared to offer. He was turning the mirror back on you, forcing you to confront not just the situation but yourself.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, unsure of how to proceed. He wasn’t playing by the rules you expected, and that made him unpredictable. Dangerous. But it also made him irresistible.

@ laceandliterature; That’s a clever way of saying nothing. Ambiguity suits you.

The reply came quickly, almost as if he’d anticipated your deflection.

@ thefourthdoctor; Clarity can be earned, if you’re willing to play the game.

Your breath hitched. There it was again—that quiet, assured confidence that pulled you in despite every warning bell ringing in your head. He wasn’t offering platitudes or empty promises. He was offering a challenge, one that was as maddening as it was magnetic.

@ laceandliterature; And what game is that? 

The pause before his answer felt deliberate, a calculated silence that only heightened your anticipation. When his message finally appeared, it sent a shiver through you:

@ laceandliterature; The one we’re already playing. You just haven’t realised it yet.

Your pulse quickened, your palms damp as you stared at the screen. He was toying with you, but not in the way you’d experienced before. This wasn’t about cheap thrills or transparent power plays. This was about control—subtle, seductive, and entirely in his hands.

@ laceandliterature; I don’t recall agreeing to any rules. 

The sharpness of your words masking the unease curling in your chest.

His reply was swift, the confidence in his words cutting through the haze of your thoughts:

@ thefourthdoctor; You didn’t have to. You agreed the moment you responded.

The audacity of his statement left you momentarily breathless. He was right, of course, and that infuriated you. But it also thrilled you in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

@ laceandliterature; You’re awfully sure of yourself

You shot back, your fingers trembling as you hit send. The response came almost immediately.

@ thefourthdoctor; Confidence is the privilege of knowing what you want. Do you?

Your chest tightened, his words striking a nerve you hadn’t expected. What did you want? It was supposed to be simple—a means to an end, a way to solve your financial problems without complicating your life. But now, with him, it felt far from simple.

You hesitated, your mind racing. This wasn’t like the other conversations you’d had on this site. He wasn’t just offering money or gifts; he was offering an exchange of a different kind. One that blurred the lines between power and vulnerability, control and surrender.

@ laceandliterature; I think you already know the answer.

@ thefourthdoctor; Good. Then we’re getting somewhere.

You exhaled sharply, the tension in your chest both exhilarating and suffocating. He had you cornered, and he knew it. But the worst part? You didn’t want to leave.

@ laceandliterature; And where exactly is that? 

The question both a challenge and a plea. His response sent a chill down your spine.

@ thefourthdoctor; Where we figure out if you’re ready to trust me.

The weight of his words settled over you, heavy and inescapable. Trust. It was a loaded word, especially here, in a space where every interaction felt transactional. But with him, it didn’t feel like a demand—it felt like an invitation.

You swallowed hard, your fingers trembling as you typed your response:

@ laceandliterature; Trust is earned, Doctor. How do you plan on earning mine?

The pause before his reply was excruciating, every second stretching longer than the last. And then, finally, his message appeared. 

@ thefourthdoctor; Patience. Honesty. And just enough mystery to keep you coming back.

Your breath caught, the sheer confidence of his words leaving you momentarily speechless. He wasn’t just playing the game—he was rewriting the rules, pulling you deeper into his orbit with every word.

And despite the warning bells ringing in your head, you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting more.

@ laceandliterature; Then I suppose we’ll see how well you play. 

@ thefourthdoctor; We already are.

The message lingered on the screen, a challenge and a promise all at once. And as you stared at it, your heart racing and your mind spinning, one thing became clear:

Here’s the continuation, intensifying the emotional and psychological stakes, as well as the power dynamics:

You could feel it in the way your heart raced, in the way your mind struggled to pull together coherent thoughts. It was maddening. Dangerous. And yet, some part of you craved the thrill of it.

@ laceandliterature; What makes you so sure of that?

@ thefourthdoctor; Because you’re still here.

Your lips parted in a soft exhale, the truth in his words sending a shiver down your spine. He was right—you were still here, still engaged, still drawn to him in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

@ laceandliterature; Maybe I’m just curious.

His response was immediate, his confidence unshaken.

@ thefourthdoctor; Curiosity is the first step to surrender. And you’re closer than you think.

Your pulse quickened, his words striking a nerve you hadn’t realized was exposed. Surrender. The word hung there, heavy and intoxicating, pulling you deeper into his web.

@ laceandliterature; Surrender isn’t in my vocabulary. 

The sharpness of your reply more for your benefit than his.

@ thefourthdoctor; That’s because no one’s ever taught you how to do it properly.

The breath left your lungs in a quiet rush, your body betraying you with a thrill that raced down your spine. He wasn’t just confident—he was audacious, pushing boundaries you didn’t even know you had.

@ laceandliterature; And you think you’re the one to teach me?

@ thefourthdoctor; I know I am.

Your throat tightened, his certainty pulling you further into the undertow. There was no pretence with him, no fumbling for the right words to impress or seduce. He spoke with a quiet authority that was impossible to ignore—and even harder to resist.

@ laceandliterature; You’re awfully sure of yourself, Doctor.

You wrote, the name a deliberate choice, a way to remind yourself that he was still just a man on the other side of a screen.

But his next message stripped away any illusion of simplicity.

@ thefourthdoctor; Confidence is earned. You’ll see.

The promise in his words sent your mind reeling, the tension in your chest building with every passing second. He wasn’t offering wealth or gifts or superficial praise. He was offering himself—his attention, his intellect, his dominance—and it was unlike anything you’d ever encountered.

You leaned back in your chair, running a hand through your hair as you tried to steady your breathing. This wasn’t just a game anymore. It was a collision of wills, a power struggle where the stakes felt dangerously personal.

@ laceandliterature; And if I decide to stop playing? 

His reply came slower this time, each word calculated, precise.

@ thefourthdoctor; Then I’ll let you go. But we both know you won’t.

Your breath caught, the quiet confidence in his message leaving you stunned. He wasn’t trying to trap you—he was daring you to walk away. And that made him even more dangerous.

@ laceandliterature; You seem very sure of my choices

@ thefourthdoctor; I’m sure of your curiosity. And that’s enough.

You stared at the screen, your heart pounding, your mind spinning. He was right—you were curious. About him, about this, about where it could lead. And that curiosity was already pulling you deeper, binding you to him in a way that felt both thrilling and terrifying.

And as you sat there, your fingers hovering over the keyboard, one thought echoed in your mind:

You weren’t just playing his game anymore.

You were losing.

His words were a masterstroke, the kind of deliberate confidence that didn’t demand submission but invited it, coaxed it out of you with unsettling precision. He wasn’t forcing you into anything. He didn’t have to.

You were leaning in all on your own.

@ laceandliterature; Curiosity is dangerous. 

The words meant as both a warning and a defense. You weren’t sure if you were telling him or reminding yourself.

His reply came almost instantly, as if he’d anticipated your hesitation.

@ thefourthdoctor; It can be, in the wrong hands. But I think you know by now—I don’t intend to hurt you.

Your chest tightened, the unexpected gentleness in his response catching you off guard. It wasn’t a dismissal of your fears; it was an acknowledgment, a reassurance that felt disarmingly genuine.

@ laceandliterature; What do you intend to do, then? 

The pause before his reply was deliberate, stretching just long enough to heighten the tension without breaking it.

@ thefourthdoctor; Challenge you. Teach you. Protect you, if you let me.

Your breath hitched, his words striking a chord deep within you. The power in his offer wasn’t in its force but in its certainty, its quiet promise of control without cruelty, dominance without destruction.

@ laceandliterature; That’s a tall order.

@ thefourthdoctor; I’ve never been afraid of a challenge.

The simplicity of his answer left you momentarily stunned. He wasn’t boasting, wasn’t trying to impress you. He was stating a fact, one that resonated with an authority you couldn’t ignore.

@ laceandliterature; And what do you get out of this?

@ thefourthdoctor; The pleasure of watching you grow. The satisfaction of knowing you’re safe. And maybe, if you’re willing, a connection worth more than either of us expected.

Your chest tightened, his words threading through the cracks in your defences with startling ease. He wasn’t just offering a transaction; he was offering something far deeper, something that terrified and intrigued you in equal measure.

@ laceandliterature; You make it sound so simple.

@ thefourthdoctor; It can be, if you trust me. But I won’t rush you. This is your choice.

Your breath caught, the weight of his words settling over you. He wasn’t demanding anything from you, wasn’t using manipulation or coercion. He was giving you the space to decide, to choose whether to step into the unknown or retreat to the safety of your walls.

@ laceandliterature; What if I don’t know how to trust someone like you?

@ thefourthdoctor; Then I’ll show you how, baby. Step by step. But only if you’re willing.

The kindness in his words was a stark contrast to the intensity of his presence, a reminder that his control wasn’t about overpowering you—it was about guiding you, supporting you, meeting you where you were and pulling you gently forward.

@ laceandliterature; And if I’m not?

@ thefourthdoctor; Then I’ll let you go. But I don’t think you want me to.

The truth in his words hit you like a jolt, your heart racing as you stared at the screen. He was right—you didn’t want to let him go. You didn’t want to retreat into the safety of solitude, not when he was offering something so intoxicatingly rare.

@ laceandliterature; You’re very sure of yourself

@ thefourthdoctor; I’m sure of you. And I’m willing to wait until you are too.

The words lingered on the screen, a challenge and a reassurance all at once. He wasn’t just pulling you into his world—he was offering to walk beside you, to guide you through the uncharted territory of trust and surrender.

And as you stared at his message, your pulse thrumming in your ears, one thing became abundantly clear. You wanted to see where this could lead.

Your fingers trembled as you typed your reply.

@ laceandliterature; I don’t know where this is going.

His response came swiftly, his dominance tempered by kindness:

@ thefourthdoctor; Then let me be the one to show you. One step at a time.

When the evening settled and the quiet of your room enveloped you, you found yourself sitting on the edge of your bed, staring at your phone. His last message still lingered there:

"Then let me be the one to show you. One step at a time."

Trust. The word had seemed so monumental when he’d said it, and now it felt even heavier in the quiet intimacy of your room.

Your eyes wandered to the package on your desk, the one that had arrived just days ago. The lingerie you’d bought with the money he’d sent—not something you’d ever imagined doing, much less showing anyone. But his insistence had stayed with you.

"This is for you," he’d written. "Because you deserve to feel special."

You’d laughed at the time, unsure how to process the sincerity in his words. But now, with the soft lace spread out in front of you, you felt the weight of his kindness.

On impulse, you slipped it on, the delicate fabric hugging your body in a way that felt both indulgent and empowering. It wasn’t something you’d ever have bought for yourself, but now, wearing it, you understood the quiet confidence it offered.

You caught your reflection in the mirror, your cheeks flushing as you adjusted the straps. The blush-colored lace was intricate and feminine, the perfect balance of modesty and allure. You hesitated, biting your lip as your phone buzzed in your hand.

Finally, you snapped a photo—nothing overly revealing, just the curve of your body hinted at in the soft light, the lace framing your figure. It felt daring, intimate, and, most of all, you felt like his.

With a shaky breath, you typed a caption for the image. 

@ laceandliterature; Thank you. I thought you should see where your funds are going.

You hit send before you could second-guess yourself, your heart racing as the message left your screen.

@ thefourthdoctor; You’re so beautiful, my little angel.

Your breath caught at the simplicity of his words. There was no embellishment, no flourish—just a quiet, sincere acknowledgment that made your chest tighten.

Another message followed, slower this time, as if he’d chosen each word carefully.

@ thefourthdoctor; Thank you for trusting me with this. How does it make you feel?

His question sent a ripple of warmth through you. He wasn’t just admiring you; he cared about how you felt, ensuring that this moment wasn’t just for him.

@ laceandliterature; It feels… different. In a good way.

The dots danced on the screen before his next message appeared.

@ thefourthdoctor; Good. That’s exactly how it should feel. You deserve to feel confident and cared for.

You smiled despite yourself, the warmth of his words cutting through the lingering nerves. He had a way of making you feel seen, like every action, every choice you made mattered to him.

@ laceandliterature; I wasn’t sure about sending it, I’ve never done anything like that before.

You admitted, your honesty surprising even you.

@ thefourthdoctor; You don’t need to worry. You’re safe with me. Always.

The reassurance in his words settled something deep inside you. He wasn’t just saying it—he meant it, every word carrying the weight of his sincerity.

Before you could respond, your phone vibrated in your hand, his name lighting up the screen. You hadn't expected him to call so soon, but the smile that spread across your face at the sight of his name felt entirely natural.

Your throat pinched, the air suddenly feeling all too warm. Neither of you had ever initiated a call before, what would he sound like? Deciding to push your nerves to the side, you answer the call.

"I was thinking you might not pick up for a moment there," his voice was low and smooth, a hint of amusement dancing through his words. "I hope you know this isn’t just about the photo. It’s about you. What you need, what you want. If you’re ever unsure, tell me. I’ll always listen."

"I guess I just couldn’t help myself," you teased, a slight blush creeping up your cheeks at the memory of how vulnerable you'd felt.

"Yeah? Am I living up to the expectation?" he murmured, and you could hear the laughter in his voice. It wasn’t a mocking sort of amusement, just a quiet acknowledgment that you both knew where this conversation was heading. And that, he hoped, neither one of you would shy away from it.

You laughed, a softness you'd never known you were capable of settling into your chest. There had been something so unexpectedly freeing about the experience—about wearing it made you flush with warmth.

“You could say that…”

“What were you hoping for, when you sent me that photo?”

The thought sent an immediate ache through your body, the suggestion of his touch, of the things he might do to you, sending a wave of desire through you. Your mind raced with images of “him” above you, of his hands pinning your wrists to the bed as he thrust into you. The thought was enough to make you flush, the ache of need between your legs becoming almost unbearable.

"Nothing.” You couldn’t even pretend to feign nonchalance when his words had been so unflinchingly honest, when the promise of what lay ahead was so tantalisingly clear.

"I’ll make it easier for you, then. What are you thinking about right now?" he said bluntly, his words sending a rush of heat through your entire body. There was nothing ambiguous or hesitant about his command; he wanted this, and he expected you to do it. "Tell me what you want, angel. I can give you that."

You twist the fabric hem of the lingerie around your fingers nervously, chewing at the dry skin on the edge of your lips. “I- I don’t know how to do this.” 

He chuckles softly, voice still full of kindness. “Then you don’t have to do anything, let me do all the work, baby.”

You’re quiet for a moment, pondering your options. Before nodding to yourself, deciding you’d have to let go of your nerves for the time being if you wanted this to continue.

“Okay.” You whisper, almost inaudibly. He wouldn’t have been able to hear it if he’d not been paying such close attention.

You took a deep breath, feeling a surge of boldness. "I... I've always had this fantasy of being guided by a man... someone who knows what he wants and can show me new pleasures. I’ve never had that chance before… I was hoping maybe that could be you."

"Oh, angel, you have no idea how much I want to fulfil those desires," He purred. "I can be your guide, your teacher, and your lover all in one."

His words sent a jolt of electricity through your body, and you felt your core tighten with anticipation. "I... I think I'd like that very much."

"I want you to relax and get comfortable for me, can you do that, baby?. Dim the lights, light a candle, whatever you need to do."

Obeying his instructions, you lit a scented candle, filling the room with a soft, flickering glow and a hint of vanilla. You kicked off your shoes and slid under the covers, your heart pounding in your chest.

"That's it, sweet girl," He whispered. "Now, I want you to imagine my hands on your body, caressing your skin, exploring every inch of you. Feel my touch, soft and gentle, as I trace your collarbone, down to the swell of your breasts."

As you listened, you closed your eyes, visualising his strong, masculine hands on your body. You imagined his fingers brushing against your sensitive nipples, causing them to harden in response. Soft whimpers escaping your lips as you reach up to cup your breasts, mimicking his touch.

"That's right, angel," he encouraged. "Touch yourself for me. Feel how soft you are, how sweet.”

Your fingers obeyed, teasing your nipples, rolling and tugging at the sensitive peaks. You arched your back, pressing your breasts into your palms, and let out a soft cry of pleasure.

"Do you like that, little girl?" He asked, his voice thick with desire. "I wish you could see what you do to me."

"Yes, Doctor," you breathed, your voice heavy with arousal. “It feels so good."

"Now, slide your hand down your stomach, past your navel, and into the heat between your thighs," he instructed, his voice a seductive command. "Feel how wet you are for me, how your body responds to my words."

Your hand trembled as you obeyed, slipping beneath the covers and finding your way to your core. Your fingers brushed against your wet folds, and you gasped at the sensation.

"Oh, god, baby. You're so wet, aren’t you? I can hear it," He growled. "Rub your fingers along your pussy, coat them with your sweetness.”

You did as he said, moaning as your fingers slipped into your tight cunt. You were so wet, so ready, and the sensation of filling yourself sent waves of pleasure through your body. Taking the phone down your body, you hold it in front of your dripping pussy. Your microphone picking up on the sounds as your fingers slip through your folds.

"What a noisy fucking pussy, that's it, that's my girl," he encouraged. "Fuck yourself with your fingers, slowly at first, imagine it's my cock inside you, claiming your tight little cunt."

Your fingers moved in and out, your pace increasing as your pleasure spiralled. You imagined Spencer's thick, hard length filling you, his powerful body driving into yours.

"Yeah, fuck yourself for me," he urged. "Let go, angel girl. Come for me, and let me hear your sweet cries."

Your fingers worked frantically, your body on the brink of ecstasy. His words, his deep, commanding voice, pushed you over the edge. With a cry of release, you climaxed, your body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over you.

"Oh, my sweet girl," he whispered, whispering soft praise over the phone, his voice filled with satisfaction. "That sounded like a lot, hm? You still with me, beautiful?."

"I know that wasn’t easy for you, but it was beautiful to hear." His voice was soft, filled with sincerity. 

You lay there, breathless and sated, your body still humming with pleasure. "Y-yeah, m still here. Thank you."

"You did so good, such a well behaved girl. Check your phone for me, baby. Look what you did to me."

You froze for a moment, your mind struggling to process exactly what you were looking at. And then it registered—the smooth skin of his stomach, the slight curve of his hip. A moment later, you saw it; his cock, flushed pink tip, half-hard and resting against his stomach. A small pool of cum rested near his belly button.. You flushed all over at the thought, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the photo. There was something so undeniably intimate about the image; something that spoke to the fact that he'd been pleasuring himself while thinking of you.

With a final, breathless goodbye, you end the call. Your heart is still racing, your body tingling with the lingering aftershocks of pleasure. His voice still echoes in your ears, warm and commanding, and the weight of his presence seems to fill the room even though he's no longer on the line. You lean back against the soft cushions on your bed, eyes fluttering closed, letting the soft glow of the lamp wash over you.

You let out a slow exhale, your chest rising and falling in rhythm with the buzz still pulsing beneath your skin. There’s something thrilling, intoxicating about the way he’s able to draw you out, make you vulnerable and yet so sure of yourself all at once. But the moment feels almost too surreal, too indulgent, and you try to calm your racing thoughts when a ping breaks through the haze of your afterglow.

You glance down at your phone, blinking at the notification that has just popped up.

$500 has been deposited into your account.

-for my pretty girl

Your breath catches in your throat as your fingers instinctively swipe open the message. You freeze, your eyes scanning the details with a quickness that betrays your curiosity.

"Doctor Reid," it reads, alongside the substantial amount.

For a moment, time seems to stop, your gaze fixed on the screen as your pulse quickens once more. The money sits there, cool and impersonal, yet its presence is anything but. It’s a gesture—one that feels undeniably generous, but also loaded with unspoken meaning. This isn’t just a transaction. This is him, and everything that came with the promise of his control, his attention, his care.

You’ve known that he was willing to give, but this—this feels different. The amount is so much more than what you’d expected. What did he mean by it? What does he expect now?

You glance at the digits one more time, the weight of his name anchoring the moment. It feels strange to see it. So he was a doctor. 

A tight knot forms in your chest, mixing nerves with something else—something like desire, maybe even gratitude. You bite your lip, unsure how to feel. It was just a phone call, just a moment of shared vulnerability between you. Yet the fact that he’s followed through with this kind of gesture makes everything feel so much more real, so much more complicated.

With a heavy sigh, you set your phone down and run your fingers through your hair, your mind racing as you try to reconcile the thrill of the moment with the heavy responsibility that now feels like it’s creeping in.

At least now you had his name, Doctor Reid.

next part

[shysuccubusstuff]

Yandere! Mr. Crawling

Content: SFW hcs + Established relationship + Overprotection + Manipulation + Baby trapping + clingy! Mr. Crawling + Gaslighting + Somnophilia + Stalking + Death + Breeding kink + Slight size difference.

Summary: Human! Mr. Crawling who tries to keep his deep love secret from you

Note: I hope all of you are having a good day!! I'm trying to do my essays but they're so boring... Let me know if you have any suggestions/things you want to say to me, I love answering to people!!

SFW:

Human! Mr. Crawling who falls in love as soon as he sees your face.

Human! Mr. Crawling who decides to try and keep you safe and protect you from all possible dangers. This ranges from leaving small gifts for you, buying you something to eat when he hears a rumble close to him, or buying you a drink if he has seen you working so hard on keeping up with all the classes, to sometimes intimidating the other guys that kept trying to get closer to you.

Human! Mr. Crawling who tries his hardest to speak to you, even if it's just a few words to make sure you know he's listening to you. Nodding his head and keeping his eyes completely focused on your face.

Human! Mr. Crawling who tries to make himself look smaller, crunching a bit and walking with his back a bit arched, not something that can be easily noticeable for others, but just enough to reduce the height difference between the two of you.

Human! Mr. Crawling who is finally able to make you feel safe with him, allowing him to get into your bedroom, even to the point of making a sleepover. He just had to try his hardest not to act in any weird manner.

Human! Mr. Crawling who keeps following you like a lost puppy. You can almost see two ears and a tail appear when he acts like a small puppy, being easily excited when you compliment him, even if it's for the smallest things.

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who begins to feel how his pure love becomes something more twisted the moment he realises more people keep getitng interested in you. He looks so kind when you look at him, but as soon as you turn your head, his gaze becomes much darker, his expression is always serious, his brows slightly furrowed as he tries to keep himself restrained.

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who takes advantage of you great "friendship" and starts to try and get rid of your friends. He keeps on interrupting when you meet with your other friends, creating different reasons why he just couldn't wait to meet you, as he truly needed you.

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who takes advantage of his sickly aspect to make you worry about him, calling you to ask you for small gestures, making sure that they are small enough to avoid you from refusing him.

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who is finally able to ask you out. He made sure to get rid of each and all your friends who could get in the way of your relationships, after all, he is everything you need, right?

NSFW:

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who had already seen you way before both of you met each other in class, his phone filled to the brim with pictures of you. The fact that most of them involve you in embarrasing positions while the rest are of your sleeping face. They definitely have no effect on him, hell no (just ignore the raging bulge he gets from seeing your lips slightly parted, totally normal reaction).

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who put a small chip on your phone while you were sleeping. How was he supposed to keep you safe if he didn't know where you were the whole day? Don't be so dramatic, he was just doing it for your sake :((

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who killed someone in front of you. He was stalking you around town when he saw that strange man grabbing you by your wrist and taking you to the closest dark alley. Before he could think, his hands were already gripping his throat, his face turning blue as his grasp got even stronger. When he finally was sure that man was no longer alive, he turned around, a happy smile on his lips as he waited for your compliments. He was now on his real height, allowing you to notice how he was over one head and a half taller than you, despite that, he made you pet his hair, forcing you to smile as the body of the strange man got colder.

Yandere! Mr. Crawling whose obsession only increases the moment the two of you decide to date. His arms are now always around your waist, his hands always touching you, no matter if you are alone or in front of other people. He just loves hugging you from behind, his dick rubbing against your ass, grinding against you as soon as he saw you do something he didn't like.

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who forces his cock inside you, filling you load after load just to prove that you're truly his one and only. He doesn't stop until he sees his seed dripping from your hole, your eyes rolling to your skull with fat tears rolling down your cheeks from the overstimulation.

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who keeps blabbering about impregnating you during sex, he doesn't even care about your gender, he WILL impregnate you. He will defy Mother Nature for you, filling you one after the other and not pulling out until the next morning.

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who masturbates with your clothes the moment he misses you, he doesn't care if you have been away for barely a few hours, he just misses his sweet darling so much :(( Not his fault that your clothes are filled with your sweet scent...

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who masturbates to your sleeping face while the both of you sleep together. He loves feeling you close to him, all relaxed as your expressions sometimes change to one of pure bliss... He hugs you from behind, beginning to grind against your ass as an attempt to keep himself in check. This of course doesn't work, which forces him to use his own hand to masturbate, slowly getting on top of you so he can get an extremely detailed view of your sleeping face.