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mediocre-shark-tales · 1 day ago

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Post Maiden-Home Win

Masterlist

Trigger Warning- slow burn of increasing themes including sexism, SA, depression, and implied grooming will be skattered throughout the rest of the story. Please feel free to skip parts you find uncomfortable or to stop reading the rest of the story in general. no harm no foul.

The days between the Texas and Mexican Grands Prix were a whirlwind, but they started with a night I’d never forget. Fresh off my first Formula 1 victory—on home soil, no less—I was swept into a celebration that felt larger than life. Nearly every driver on the grid showed up, save for a few who had family commitments or simply didn’t have the energy for our kind of chaos. Even they made a point to swing by and congratulate me before heading off to their flights or their quieter plans.

For once, the usual rivalries and tensions seemed to melt away. We were just a group of racers, toasting to a milestone that felt as much theirs as it was mine. The party buzzed with laughter, music, and the kind of camaraderie you only find in moments like these. It was as if my win had become a victory for everyone who had ever dared to chase a dream.

The party was everything I imagined a post-win celebration could be—yet so much more. For the first time since I’d joined the grid, the spotlight wasn’t about what I lacked, who I wasn’t, or why I didn’t belong. It was about me—a victor, a competitor, an equal.

The night felt surreal. The other drivers hoisted me onto their shoulders, chanting my name as if I was their hero, not just the lone woman who had somehow clawed her way onto the grid. Lando handed me a drink with a grin, promising that "you'll never forget your first win party," while Franco spun me around in a dance I didn’t know the steps to but couldn’t stop laughing through. Even Max, who was usually stoic, clinked his glass against mine and said, “You deserve it. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

For a few fleeting hours, the endless battle for respect and recognition faded into the background. I wasn’t the woman who had replaced Lance Stroll and had her abilities questioned at every turn. I wasn’t the target of snide remarks, belittling jokes, or the subject of ugly rumors that accused me of everything from sleeping my way into the sport to only being here for the media attention. I wasn’t the outsider fighting for space in a world that had never wanted me.

I was a winner.

But even in the glow of celebration, the shadows lingered. I knew this moment wouldn’t last forever. The headlines tomorrow would still dissect every detail of my performance, and the doubters would still find ways to diminish my success. The whispers wouldn’t stop—about how my team must have favored me, how it was “just luck,” or how the other drivers had “gone easy” on me because of my gender.

Still, as the music pounded and the lights danced across the room, I let myself live in this moment. For once, the people around me weren’t doubting me—they were celebrating with me. I drank it all in: the laughter, the clinking glasses, the genuine congratulations. Even if the road ahead would be just as steep, tonight, I wasn’t just a female driver in a male-dominated sport. Tonight, I was a champion.

Knock, knock, knock.

The pounding on the door echoed like a drumline in my head. I groaned, pulling the pillow over my face, and prayed whoever it was would give up and go away. No such luck.

“Y/N!” Lewis’s voice came through the door, muffled but unmistakable. “We know you’re in there. Open up before I have Charles break the door down.”

“I’m not breaking anything,” Charles protested, his tone light and teasing. “But we will stand here until you let us in.”

I groaned louder, dragging myself out of bed. My head felt like it was splitting in two, and the room spun just from standing. I stumbled to the door and cracked it open, glaring at the two figures on the other side.

Lewis and Charles stood there, both looking annoyingly chipper for people who had been at the same party as me. Lewis held a bag of something greasy-smelling, and Charles waved a bottle of water in one hand and a sports drink in the other.

“Ugh,” I muttered, letting the door swing open wider as I shuffled back toward the couch. “I’m dying. Leave me here to rot.”

Lewis chuckled, stepping inside and setting the bag on the coffee table. “We figured you’d say that. So we brought reinforcements—breakfast and hydration.”

Charles grinned, handing me the water first. “Drink this before Lewis starts lecturing you about recovery.”

I sank onto the couch, sipping the water while Lewis unpacked the bag. The smell of breakfast sandwiches and hash browns hit me, and despite my nausea, my stomach growled.

“See? You’re not that far gone,” Lewis said, passing me a sandwich.

Before I could thank them, another knock came at the door, softer this time.

“Now what?” I grumbled, shuffling back to answer it.

When I opened the door, Lando was leaning against the frame, his hair a mess and his hoodie pulled halfway over his face like it was his armor against the world. Franco stood behind him, yawning and rubbing his eyes.

“We heard there was a hangover party,” Lando mumbled, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

“Did you bring food?” Franco asked, peering around him.

“Not you too,” I said, but there was no bite in my tone.

“You looked worse than me at the party,” Lando quipped, flopping onto the couch next to me. “And that’s saying something.”

“Don’t remind me,” I muttered, taking a bite of the sandwich.

Franco perched on the armrest of the couch, watching me like I was some science experiment. “Do you always look this awful after drinking?”

“Do you always look this awful without drinking?” I shot back, earning a laugh from everyone in the room.

As the boys bickered and passed around the food Lewis had brought, the headache began to fade, replaced by something lighter, warmer.

-time skip-

Later that day, I was shipped off to Mexico City for the next race. The plane ride was uneventful, a mix of peace and monotony as I rode alone. First-class perks and my comfiest headphones helped pass the time, but it didn’t stop the creeping anticipation in my mind.

When I landed, my manager was already waiting, hustling me through the crowded airport. “Let’s get you to the hotel,” she said briskly. “You’ve got a little time to settle in before the meeting.”

I nodded, grateful for the momentary reprieve. By the time we arrived, I was too tired to do much more than toss my suitcase in the corner and collapse onto the bed for a quick nap. The quiet was short-lived, though, as the "big post-win meeting" loomed closer. Apparently, with Fernando and me both in strong positions for points after years of tough seasons, the team wanted to capitalize on the momentum. They saw this as an opportunity—not just to boost morale but to prepare us for the new pressure we’d be carrying on our shoulders.

When I finally walked into the makeshift meeting space, the buzz of conversation among the team greeted me. I scanned the room, offering small nods and smiles to familiar faces. But one gaze stopped me cold.

I clocked him instantly. The same guy from last weekend. His presence was a scar in my memory—a faded yet sharp reminder of a strange encounter I hadn’t quite shaken. His eyes locked on me, unrelenting and piercing, like he was trying to peel away every layer of my being. It wasn’t just uncomfortable; it was invasive, like he was searching for something I hadn’t consented to share.

I busied myself with casual chatter among the team, doing my best to avoid his line of sight. But he didn’t seem to take the hint. His questions started out innocuous enough but quickly grew more probing, each one designed to worm his way past my walls.

“So, Y/N,” he said, leaning just a bit too close, his voice smooth but loaded with something darker, “what’s it like carrying the hopes of an entire country on your shoulders? I imagine it’s… intoxicating.”

I forced a polite smile. “It’s a lot of responsibility, but I try to focus on the team effort. We all contribute to the success.”

He chuckled, as if my answer amused him. “Modest. But we both know you’re more than just another driver.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with implication. My grip tightened on the water bottle in my hand as I tried to steer the conversation back to safer ground, cracking a joke with one of the engineers standing nearby.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Fernando watching the exchange, his sharp gaze flicking between me and the guy—Henry, as he finally introduced himself. Fernando’s expression tightened, his jaw clenching just slightly. He seemed to sense my discomfort, his focus narrowing in on Henry’s posture, which was all demanding presence and misplaced confidence.

Before Fernando could step in, the door swung open, and our team principal, Mike, strode in with a clipboard. The room quieted instantly as he called everyone to order.

I exhaled a small breath of relief, grateful for the interruption. Henry finally stepped back, though I could feel his eyes lingering on me as the meeting began. My focus stayed firmly on Mike, but my skin crawled with the residual unease of Henry’s attention.

Whatever the team wanted to prepare us for, it seemed I’d have to brace myself for more than just the pressure of the championship fight.

As the meeting progressed, Mike laid out the agenda with his usual no-nonsense tone. He congratulated Fernando and me on our recent performances, his words tinged with that managerial mix of pride and urgency.

“We’re in a great position,” he began, “but we need to push harder. Especially with the Constructor’s Championship still within reach. To that end, there’ll be some changes to help maximize efficiency and improve collaboration across both sides of the garage.”

I shifted in my chair, already sensing where this was headed.

“Y/N,” Mike said, his gaze landing on me. “You’ve done exceptionally well under the circumstances, but as the newest driver, there’s still room for growth—both in understanding the car and in working more seamlessly with the engineering team.”

I nodded, doing my best to look composed. “Of course. Whatever helps the team.”

“Good,” he replied. “You’ll be spending more time with Henry and his team the rest of this season. They’ll walk you through the car’s nuances, collect your feedback, and ensure we’re all on the same page moving forward.”

Outwardly, I kept my expression neutral, but internally, I winced. Of course he would be leading this. I stole a glance at Henry, who sat across the room with that same infuriatingly smug posture. He gave me a small, knowing smile that only made my stomach twist.

“As for you, Fernando,” Mike continued, turning his attention to my teammate, “your side of the garage will be following a similar approach, though with less urgency. You’ve proven time and again that you understand the car and the team’s dynamics. But we’ll still use this as an opportunity to fine-tune.”

Fernando gave a slight nod, his face unreadable. I caught his eye for a brief second, and there was a flicker of something there—concern, maybe.

The meeting wrapped up with the usual reminders about strategy sessions and media commitments, but I barely heard any of it. My mind was stuck on the looming task of spending more time with Henry. I didn’t doubt his skills as an engineer—he’d been with the team long before I arrived, and his reputation for precision was well-known. But his unnerving presence made the thought of working closely with him almost unbearable.

As we filed out of the room, Fernando caught up to me, his hand brushing lightly against my arm. “You okay?” he asked quietly, his voice low enough that no one else could hear.

I hesitated, glancing around to make sure Henry wasn’t within earshot. “I will be,” I said, offering a small, forced smile.

Fernando frowned but didn’t press further. Instead, he leaned in slightly, his tone soft but firm. “If he gives you trouble, you tell me. Understood?”

I nodded, the weight of his words grounding me for a moment. “Thanks, Fernando.”

He gave a small nod before stepping away to join his side of the garage.

I took a deep breath and turned toward Henry, who was waiting near the door, his hands in his pockets and that same unreadable look in his eyes. “Shall we?” he asked, his voice smooth as silk.

I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to nod. “Lead the way.”

This was going to suck.

-time skip-

The next day was grueling. Henry and two other engineers, Mark and Tom, had me stationed in one of the team’s garages, walking me through nearly every detail about the car ahead of the Mexican GP. Aero dynamics, brake wear, tire degradation on the high-altitude track—it felt like I was cramming for an exam I hadn’t studied for.

Mark and Tom were professional, efficient, and clear in their explanations. They answered my questions patiently, sometimes even offering diagrams to make things easier to grasp. But Henry... Henry was a different story.

“So, Y/N,” Henry drawled at one point, leaning casually against the workbench as if we weren’t on a tight schedule, “do you ever worry you’ll... break a nail handling the wheel? Or does the team have a special manicure budget for you?”

I froze, gripping the edge of the table to keep my temper in check. Mark coughed awkwardly, glancing between us, while Tom cleared his throat.

“Henry,” Tom said carefully, “let’s stay on topic. We’ve got a lot to cover.”

Henry waved him off with a smirk. “Relax, Tom. Just trying to lighten the mood. Y/N can handle a joke, can’t you?”

I forced a tight smile, biting back the sharp retort burning in my throat. “Let’s focus on the car, shall we? There’s plenty I still need to learn.”

For a moment, I thought that might shut him up, but Henry only leaned closer, his voice dropping. “You know, you’d learn a lot faster if you weren’t so tense. I could help you... unwind, if you’d like.”

Mark’s jaw tightened. “Henry—”

“Let it go, Mark,” Henry snapped, straightening up and glaring at him. “I’m in charge here. Maybe focus on your job instead of babysitting.”

The tension in the room was suffocating, but I forced myself to keep going. I nodded along as Mark and Tom did their best to continue the session, subtly redirecting the focus back to the technical aspects of the car.

By the time we wrapped up, my head was pounding—not just from the overload of information, but from the constant strain of dealing with Henry’s veiled jabs and innuendos.

Back at the hotel, I trudged into the lobby, my mood dark and my patience worn thin. As I passed through, a burst of laughter caught my attention. I glanced over to see a small group of drivers lounging in one of the seating areas, looking relaxed and carefree.

Charles spotted me first, his smile warm and genuine as he waved me over. “Y/N! Come join us.”

I hesitated, torn between my sour mood and the temptation of their easy camaraderie. Lando, sprawled across one of the couches, noticed my hesitation and grinned. “You look like you’ve had the longest day in history. We’ve got snacks and bad TV—instant cure for whatever’s bothering you.”

Franco leaned against the armrest, tossing a piece of popcorn into his mouth. “And if that doesn’t work, I hear Lando’s jokes are so bad they’ll make you laugh out of pity.”

Despite myself, a small smile tugged at my lips. “That sounds... tempting,” I admitted, stepping closer.

Charles patted the empty seat next to him. “Come on. You seem like you need this more than we do.”

As I sank into the seat, the weight of the day began to lift. Their laughter, their lighthearted banter—it was a reminder that I wasn’t entirely alone in this world, even if some days it felt like it.

For the first time all day, I felt like I could breathe.

#x reader #driver!reader #f1 #f1 angst #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #formula 1 #max verstappen #charles leclerc #oscar piastri #lando norris #franco colapinto #lewis hamilton #carlos sainz #george russell #grill the grid #f1 grid x reader

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girlwiththegreenhat · 2 years ago

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high school graduations suck but the valedictorian doing a speech about how corporations are killing the planet and we should be more conscious about our waste and consumerism for the betterment the future of our planet and children, pissing off every idiot conservative on the crowd including my dad, carried the entire thing for me

#liz blogs #and she was right about everything #the other kid did a speech about t*ylor swift so ??????????????????#this is the first and last graduation i have to attend beyond my own and thank god for it i would end it all if i had to do that a 3rd time #everyone who pisses off my dad has my instant respect o7 #he threatened to Destroy My Hat (Covered In Hundreds Of Dollars Of Enamel Pins) because i didn't stand for the stupid national anthem #girl i was sitting down for the pledge and the anthem before i even knew that was a political statement. i dont give a fuck #and either way it's my american Right to protest this stupid country so if you care about the constitution so much then shut your mouth #so anyway it was very nice that he got pissed off about it <3 suffer boomer #god i hate him lmfao #did not realize how healthy it was for me to not be around my parents until i wasn't around my parents for 2 days #cuz i was at a convention #ohhghhg anyway go buy from my etsy so i can move out faster

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bxdtime-ceai · 1 year ago

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rough

#i have so much respect for everyone who is posting so much about palestine rn #when blm started getting more in the mainstream a few years ago i was big about it on social media when i couldnt attend the protests #and it made me a target for everyone in my community #i knew it was coming #but i didnt realize how unprepared i was #now years later i had to move to another country to get away from them #even though they were all i had #and all i still have while also not having #the israwl-palestine stuff is even more polarising for them than blm #it's such a weird thing to grow up in a racist community that actually has a history of oppression in our home country #you'd think that would make them more sympathetic to the palestinian cause or at least the oppression of the global south and poc in genera #but no #they live in this weird world where they're still being oppressed #i once reported them for having huge gatherings without masks without any safety measures during peak covid #all it did was push them more in the opposite direction #my honours thesis was on palestinian activism #i didnt even tell my mom what the actual research was #when i told her it had to do with palestinians she immediately gave me a speech about how im on the wrong side of history etc etc #and now seeing it all over social media even more often than before #im happy to see it #but #i wish i could join #without becoming a target again #i already lost everything but i know i could lose it again #but is it that important?#it's my only connection to my heritage #esp now that i moved there are no ppl from my country here #i cant talk to anyone #i can barely speak the local language here #they've sent someone to 'watch me' to make sure i am not doing stuff they dont like under the guise of 'helping me'

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kquil · 3 months ago

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JAMES POTTER | GENUINE

SUM. : your boyfriend finally takes a role who has a romantic interest but his expression is hardly convincing; only you can get a genuine reaction from him

LENGTH : 1.8k

TAGS : actor james potter au ; modern au ; muggle au ; singer reader au ; actor/director sirius black au ; actress marlene mckinnon au ; fluff ; celebrity couple goals ; james can't do romantic roles ; he's too loyal!

“CUT!” Sirius shouts and James drops his shoulders in disappointment, his expression of ‘hopeless love’ also slipping off his face. This is why he wasn’t suited for romantic roles. As Sirius shouts for everyone to take a short five-minute break, James catches Marlene sending him a sympathetic look before moving to her chair with the help of her make-up team, who lifted the heavy skirt of her wedding dress for easier movement. “Come on James, what’s gotten into you?” Sirius asks, making his way over as Remus touches up James’ hair and suit.

“I’m trying Sirius,” the actor sighs, “I think I just need a break to collect myself and then I can finally get that winning take for you,”

“You better,” Sirius playful threatens, “I know you’re a lovesick fool so I know the type of infatuated expressions you can pull. Just try to emulate that and you’re golden, okay?”

‘It’s not that easy if it isn’t her…’ James was tempted to protest but settled with a simple, “Okay…” satisfied, Sirius walks away with Remus to discuss some things with the camera crew while James leans against the set’s alter.

As an actor, James should find it easy to perform his characters’ expressions and emotions, his stardom and recurring roles in thriller, action and adventure films were a sentiment to that. However, his current role requires romantic displays, something he had actively avoided in his acting career.

Characters that had passionate, romantic and intimate scenes were roles James tended to avoid primarily due to his endless loyalty to you, his childhood sweetheart. As young teens, you and James fell in love long before your successes. Since then, you have only grown a deeper love for each other, fostered by the hardships that came with your dreams of becoming a singer and his of becoming an actor with Sirius.

His best friend eventually divulged into directing his own films whilst James continued expanding his career as an actor — as much as he’s able to with the number of scripts he’s dropped for their romantic interests and amorous scenes. It didn’t sit right with him having to kiss another girl let alone look lovingly at someone that wasn’t you. He felt like a cheat. Many, including Sirius, however, have told him that it was part of his job but James was insistent on making no exceptions. He respected you and the love you shared too much. The same way you would play your own love interest in music videos while wearing a short wig and masculine attire. It was a show of mutual respect you both had for the other before and after your relationship became public.

The only reason James had taken on this role was due to Sirius’ insistence as the director, the lack of intimate scenes as well as the dominating adventure, and fantasy genre. It would all be underpinned by small heartfelt moments with his character’s love interest played by his close friend Marlene McKinnon. The two characters’ love story will end in tragedy, haunted by the trope of ‘right person, wrong time’. James believed he could convincingly play his loving expressions only brought on by you in the rare, romantic moments his character shares with Marlene’s but it’s proving harder than he originally thought. Simply thinking about you wasn’t enough…

Mulling over his character’s story, James imagines you in Marlene’s place. He only had three minutes remaining to focus on how he should convey his character’s ‘hopeless love’ convincingly.

To concentrate, he closes his eyes and thinks deeply, ignoring the sudden scuffle and whispers around him. On an adventure to rescue his unrequited love’s significant other, James selflessly volunteers to aid in her quest, protecting her and cherishing her throughout the arduous journey, putting his life at risk for a girl who would never love him back. Unselfishly, he continues forward without drawing any attention to the deep love he holds for her, the audience kept in suspense of his mysterious ambitions— that is, until the dream sequence. In his sleep, influenced by the surrounding, foreign plants’ effects, James dreams of his ideal future, one where he gets to marry his love, who will reciprocate his feelings wholeheartedly. It’s the moment all audience members realise James’ true motivations, encouraging a swell of heartache amongst them when they are forced to accept the reality his own character is made to face: that he cannot be with his love no matter despite his efforts. Her heart belongs to another and if he were to fall for the plant’s trap, he will never wake up from his heavenly dream-come-true and become living fertilsier to continue the plant’s life. The heartache of that realisation is further emphasised when James doesn’t stop loving her in his own, silent and benevolent way.

This is going to be a big moment for James’ character; he needs to put his all into this!

Before he has the chance to open his eyes, however, James is already being led to his spot on the set by Remus. The brunette informs him that the short break is over and instructs him to start before his turn to face Marlene.

“Again, the shot’s focus will be on your face, James, Make it a good one,” Sirius instructs from his director’s chair and, with a small pause cues for the start of the hundredth take.

Opening his eyes gradually, as if waking up from a dream, James takes a moment to analyse his surroundings. He meets the eyes of his groomsmen, shooting them a confused look before slowly turning and raising his gaze. He’s become familiar with Marlene in her wedding dress now so her off-centred placement doesn’t deter him. He also fully trusts in the team, if they saw it fit to make any changes, he’ll help follow through. Marlene is only slightly off centre, he realises, to accommodate the camera’s view of his expression more clearly. James fully expects to only see Marlene, however, when he finally raises his gaze, in the distance, he sees you by the camera.

And James immediately smiles.

He completely forgets where he is, rather, he savours the warmth that fills his chest at the sight of you, the burst of elation in his brain when he sees you smiling at him, dressed in his oversized sweater and your casual jeans. You’re not in a wedding dress nor dolled up the same way Marlene is for the take but you’re just as gorgeous. There’s a tingling itch in his fingertips to reach out for you and he almost does but stops when he remembers where he is and what’s happening around him. His look of sweeping joy and deep affection falters ever so slightly but is completely captured by the camera’s close-up shot. James’ internal berating of another failed performance barely begins when Sirius is suddenly cheering in delight.

“CUT! AND PRINT!” Sirius claps and laughs at the success but James is left blinking in confusion. Did he hallucinate you? He looks in your direction again. No, you weren’t a figment of his imagination, you’re really here! “Finally! That was what I was looking for! Great idea on putting her beside the camera, Moony,”

Remus nods his head in graceful humility as you giggle from where you stand. You had planned a surprise visit for James and called Remus beforehand for access to the set. It was the perfect surprise considering you had barely seen each other the last few weeks; he was busy filming with Sirius and Marlene while you were recording songs for your new, up-and-coming album. That only seemed to add to James’ favourable reaction, however.

“BREAK!” Sirius announces with a wink directed at you, “Let's give the two love birds a moment, as thanks for finally getting the job done. Let’s give it ten!” it seemed as though succeeding after multiple failures had made Sirius a little too happy and laidback but who was James to complain? As Marlene knowingly smirks at him, he runs past and launches himself at you. With a squeal, you return his embrace and giggle into his shoulder.

“I missed you…” he whispers into your crown.

“Surprise!” you announce despite the lateness and giggle again. Music to his ears.

“Thanks for helping me with my scene, love,” he pulls away with deep affection swimming in his hazel eyes and he cups your jaw while resisting the urge lean in and kiss you endlessly. He loves the sound of your voice just as much as the feel of your lips against his own so, for now, he’ll willing listen. He can taste your sweet lips later.

“I didn’t really know what was happening but I’m happy to help,”

“You’re so cute,” he sighs and finally pulls you into passion-filled kiss before you can utter another word. "I can't believe you're my lady,"

"Your lady?"

"Yes," James giggles and kisses your cheek again and again and again, "my lady, the same way, I'm your man,"

"Mmm, sounds good," you utter against his lips, "I'll have to feature you in my new music video then~"

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅

“...tell me about that scene. It was such a big moment for the audience and your character. How did you manage to look so in love but then so heartbroken?” the interviewer asks, smiling but tilting his head in curiosity when Marlene burst out laughing.

“Oh, this is such a good story!” James looks away, unable to meet his co-star and friend’s mischievous smirk and glimmering eyes, “Can I tell him?” she doesn’t even give him the chance to answer before ingeminating the tale, “James couldn’t get that moment right for multiple takes. We were all getting tired of him, really. But since Sirius knew he was capable of being a love-drunk fool, he persisted for over an hour! And this is just for a one minute section of the film!” James finally chuckles despite his flustered expression when Marlene makes a side comment about how the wedding dress was a chore to wear for such an extended period of time and didn’t appreciate James’ slow uptake, “there wasn’t even an after-party for me to let loose in, my supposed ‘groom’ had his brain elsewhere,” the two share a laugh and James picks up on the story.

“Elsewhere, meaning my girlfriend. She actually planned a surprise visit during filming and was brought in by Remus. He put her right by the camera and the reaction you saw on film was my reaction to seeing her instead of Marlene.” his co-star coos at how adorable he is whenever he’s around you and gossips with the interviewer about how cute of a couple the two of you make behind the scenes.

“Is that why you’ve become her love interest in the music videos for her new album?” the interviewer asks impromptu. He’s on the edge of his seat and is a clear fan of your music, which makes James happier than if the man was to say he was a fan of him.

“Naturally,” James smiles to himself, “she did say I was the inspiration for her love ballads,”

NAVI.

A/N : this was inspired by this tiktok and a daydream i had! the anime is called 'Frieren: Beyond Journey's End', I've never watched it but it was on my fyp, i did some exploring and, now, here i am (๑˃́ꇴ˂̀๑) i hope you darlings enjoyed the read!

#james potter x reader #james potter #james potter x you #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #james potter fic #james potter fanfiction #james potter x fem!reader #marauders

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suiana · 6 months ago

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I'm thinking about a yandere! secretary who's an absolutely manipulative piece of shit❤️

you hired him because his resume was impeccable and you thought he'd be a perfect fit for the empty position.

which... he is.

but the fact that he's younger than you by a decent amount and can be quite unprofessional at times does throw you off. is it something younger people like doing? is it normal to visit your employee's house with no one else around?

"hey boss, I'm thinking of inviting you over to my place tonight? just the two of us? we can drink and eat fried chicken together❤️"

"my dear, that is rather unprofessional don't you think?"

"what? no of course not. you're thinking into it too much."

it doesn't help that you're sort of a people pleaser and give into his demands easily.

you just want to see all your employees be happy! is that so wrong of you? of course not! and all your other employees (excluding your secretary) all appreciate and treat you with respect. and as you know by now, your secretary is an asshole who makes use of your easily swayed personality to get you to do... things in his favour.

but you don't know that! you just think it's because of the age gap that causes you not to understand his actions and words! surely he's not trying to love you right?

"boss~ don't you think i should meet your family? your parents? you met mine the other day didn't you? oh my parents absolutely loved you! they thought you were so sweet and-"

"w-well... that's only because you got a raise and you suggested i should inform your family about how well you were performing during work... there's no reason for you to meet my-"

"boss, be serious. do you hate me?"

"no of course not! i-"

"that's settled then! we can go and meet your family after this!"

"...yes, my dear."

with that said, he's also an excellent actor and knows how to play things to his advantage. by the time you realize what's going on, you'll already be trapped in the palm of his hand.

"my dear... i am so sorry. we shouldn't have slept together, nor gotten together. it was a severe lapse in judgement and I'm sorry that i crossed the line between personal and professionalism."

"what are you talking about darling? don't worry your silly head over all that. professionalism? who needs that? all the other employees think we look great together, and your family loves me! plus, I'm your boyfriend that you love, yes?"

"i-"

"now stop speaking about stupid things. you don't have to worry about that anymore. just listen to me. it's normal to date your secretary. it's what the younger people are doing nowadays! I'm already 26! so don't worry..."

and it's not like you can just fire him either. like i said, he does an excellent job at being your secretary. also the fact that he practically controls HR and influences them into thinking every other potential employee is subpar. so when you hold a meeting about whether to fire him everyone protests against it. but that's not important.

besides, he won't let you do that. why would you want to get rid of him? you only need him don't you? he's perfect for this job! you don't need another secretary. you don't need anyone else.

just him. only him.

and you two will be happy together as long as you listen to his words and don't try getting rid of him. after all, you might be older but times are changing! you need the hand of a younger and more knowledgeable person. he'll help you bring the company to greater heights and bring in more revenue for you!

so stop talking about how it's wrong. it's not. it's the way of the new generation! and he just.. loves you very much. way too much.

#yandere #tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere concept #yandere secretary #yandere secretary x reader #gn reader #suiana rambling #suiana brainrotting

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katyarn · 3 months ago

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FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS - HAIKYUU!

CHARACTERS: Tsukishima, Oikawa, Atsumu, Kenma

SYNOPSIS: headcanons about when, how and why you became FWB

CONTENT WARNINGS: suggestive content, degradation, spitting, fingering, they're all complete and utter assholes

Author's note; This isn't smut but there's really suggestive content ahead, Feel free to request anything you want I'm desperate to write anything. This is a college AU but feel free to consider it whatever you'd like I don't really care. also I see you 13 year olds lurking, I can't really stop you but I'm obligated to tell you to stay away

TSUKISHIMA who had no sexual interest in anyone before he saw you batting your pretty eyelashes at him when you were at a party

Tsukishima who was friends with you way before college, way before you got so damn mature

Tsukishima who finds himself thinking about you day and night, waiting for the next time he'll be able to watch those tears prick at your eyes as he shoves his cock down your pretty throat.

Tsukishima who acts so so mean in bed, calling you his slut or his little whore just to be so so soft for aftercare

Tsukishima who spits on your pretty face when you go down on him

Tsukishima who gets jealous when he sees you with your boyfriend, fucking you in the nearest public space hoping you'll get caught and he'll have you all to himself

Tsukishima who always guards your drink when you're away

Tsukishima who acts soo mean so he doesn't get attached :(

OIKAWA who keeps his pretty girl a secret.

Oikawa who's an asshole that never lets you get a boyfriend but has had countless girlfriends

Oikawa who's mean to you in public, humiliating you in front of others but makes it up to you with those skillful fingers of his

Oikawa who makes you count how many times he spanks you if you misbehave

Oikawa who is so so mean in front of his friends but so sweet in bed

Oikawa who showers with you and washes your hair gently after fucking your brains out :(

Oikawa who makes you dumb on his cock if you flirt with any other guy

Oikawa who doesn't respect you enough to date you but still want his little angle to be all his

Oikawa who bullies your pretty cunt during class :3

Oikawa who always marks you up with love bites and scratch marks so everyone knows he owns you

ATSUMU who fucks you in the locker rooms before every game as a token of good luck

Atsumu who takes out his frustration after an argument with his brother on you

Atsumu who likes stuffing you full in public making you walk around with cum dripping down your leg :(

Atsumu who lets his brother fuck you every once in a while despite your protests (so meann)

Atsumu who takes you on dates but would never go out with you

Atsumu who makes eye contact with you when he's kissing other girls to get you jealous

Atsumu who brags about fucking you to his friends so they tease you when they see you

Atsumu who is just a huge asshole but you love him so much :(

KENMA who goes back to playing video games after frying your brain on his cock :(

Kenma who ignores you in public and pretends he doesn't know you but fucks you so so good after

Kenma who ignores you after you've had sex leaving your apartment immediately after

Kenma who lets you get off on him after he's came cause he's too lazy

kenma who calls you a slut for letting him use you :(

Kenma who does everything possible to not get emotionally involved

Kenma who is such a meanie calling you nothin' more than a warm mouth to him after you ask him to stay

I did everything I could to make them as mean as possible, I don't even know why I just felt like it :3

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #miya atsumu #tsukishima kei #tsukishima smut #atsumu smut #oikawa tooru #oikawa smut #oikawa x reader #kozume kenma #kenma smut #kenma x reader

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entitled-fangirl · 2 months ago

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Fight.

Cregan Stark x Targaryen wife!reader

Summary: the reader defies her brother when he tries to get her back. When he threatens the North, she dares him to. Cregan is enraged that she'd be so reckless. An argument ensues.

Warnings: threats, foreplay so 18+ pleeeeease

A/N: eeek the idea for the argument came from @kaitic2014!!! Totally genius so everyone pay your respects to the queen

Masterlist

..............................................................

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" Cregan's voice boomed through the room and down the corridor.

Y/n, his newly wedded wife, turned with alarm. She kept herself calm, but a few nerves showed through. "I don't know what you mean."

"Don't know w-" He let out a long, agitated growl, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. His nostrils flared like a wolf. A Stark wolf.

"Cregan-" she tried to ease.

"Don't."

Her eyes fell to the ground. It was best to wait for him to say something first than try to read the angry man's mind.

It was unusual of him to be this way, so this was seriously troubling him.

"My beloved dragon," he spoke through gritted teeth, "what were you thinking?"

"I- I don't know what you're-"

"-Bargaining the lives of my people. You don't recall that?" He challenged.

A fire was lit in his eyes. The Targaryen girl had never minded fire. But this fire ate at her.

"Aemond," she mentioned. "This is about Aemond?"

"No. This is about you - your careless words to the prince that could have had dire consequences."

"They didn't, and I knew that they wouldn't," she said with a growing confidence. Her shyness was now becoming firm by the moment.

He stared at her for a while. She dared to think he was entertaining the idea of strangling her. He had always been so kind. Did he doubt her that much?

"Cregan, my brother had always been made of empty threats. To threaten Vhagar on the North? It's a mad thought."

He let a breath out through his mouth and placed his hands on her biceps. "It's a madder thought to challenge a man with the most formidable dragon in the Realm." His eyes searched hers. "What ever made you do such a thing?"

…

Y/n bolted down the hall, her skirt swishing around her feet with every step. She practically jumped down each staircase. Her heart was flooded with worry.

Vhagar had suddenly arrived, and Cregan was out training his younger brother.

After all, no one suspected a Green's dragon to show at Winterfell.

Turning the corner, her eyes caught the sight of Cregan jogging in her direction, no doubt planning to go to their chambers and grab Ice.

"Cre-CREGAN!" She exclaimed and closed the gap between them.

Cregan let out a small relieved grunt and held her with one arm, the other going to his longsword that laid in her grasp. "Thank you," he whispered against her hair. "You know my mind better than any other."

"What good is a Northern Stark without Ice?" She tried to tease, though it fell short.

He kissed her head firmly. "I'll return. Go to our chambers and wait for me."

"No. Cregan, I-" she protested.

"Go." He said with no room for argument.

She stepped back in frustration. "I can speak to my brother. I can make him see reason!"

He pulled her back to him, annoyed that she'd step away. "There's no reasoning with the man that controls the largest dragon in the Realm. And I won't see you pay for it. You'll wait for me." When she opened her mouth to argue again, he continued. "You will."

She nodded in defeat.

He relaxed and kissed her head once again. "Go on, little dragon."

Tilting her head up, she pecked his lips. "Be careful for me, my wolf."

…

Cregan and his men rode their horses down towards the large dragon's resting place. Their horses neighed as they pulled them to a stop at the top of the hill, overlooking the now sleeping Vhagar.

Her rider was no where to be found.

…

Y/n had managed to sneak from the castle, her bedsheets tied together to help her from the second story. She had stashed a dagger in the belt of her skirt. She had stepped from the outer gates of Winterfell when an arm grabbed her waist and her back was suddenly pressed against the cold stones.

"Quiet," Aemond hissed at her. His longsword was still in its sheath, but she knew better than to trust it to stay there. "Have you missed me, sister?"

"No," she sneered.

His hand came up to her jaw and held her in a firm grip. His eye was full of fury, but there was something else there too.

Fear.

Aemond Targaryen was afraid.

Of what? She didn't know.

"Brother," she whispered.

Aemond's hand relaxed. His fingers brushed over her cheek then dropped entirely. "I need you."

It was a whisper. A plea. Something that she'd never seen him do.

"Our brother is on his deathbed. The kingdom is close to its end. Please."

Aegon was cruel and selfish. His heart worked in mysterious ways, none that ever crossed his youngest sister's path. Not that she minded. To avoid Aegon and his drunken stupors was something she was always grateful for.

"What good am I to your kingdom, Aemond?"

He leaned in, his voice soft as his hand ghosted over her hand. "Where you lead, surely your loyal northerner follows. With the North, you can save us. You and your dragon. Vhagar is strong, but not when she's alone."

"Sunfyre is dead then?" She asked in hurt.

"Aegon is not fit to ride regardless." A thought came over him. "It's only us and Helaena. Surely you won't make our sweet sister ride into battle."

That hit her harder than she anticipated it to. "Please don't make her. Surely Daeron-"

"Daeron is coming with the Hightower army. It will take too long. I need you now."

She shuddered a breath. "Cregan does not fight for your cause-"

"-Our cause-"

"-your cause," she corrected. "I will not fight your battles against my own husband, Aemond."

His brows furrowed, as if he couldn't understand her decision. "You'd chose him over your blood? Over the good of the Realm?"

"What do you know about the good of the Realm, Aemond?"

Anger spread over his face. His fingers twitched. "That's your decision?"

She kept her chin up.

"And what if my dragon decides to show its gratitude to your little castle? Huh?" He grabbed her jaw again as his voice lowered. "Will the North be strong if I set fire to its castles?"

"Do it," she stated confidently.

An unsure look came over him. He was surprised by her sudden strength. But he let the anger mask it once again. "I will."

"Fine."

"Fine, sister. The North will burn, and it will be of your own accord."

The sound of the horses returning caused a panic in Aemond. He took one last look to his sister, a hesitant hand ran over her cheek, then he took off.

And she would never see him again.

…

"My love, Aemond is spineless. To think that he'd set fire to the Northern houses, it's ridiculous-"

"I don't care how ridiculous his words are, he swore to them! And you encouraged it!"

"We have nothing to fear."

He pulled her into his chest, his burly arms wrapping around her. "Gods…"

"What?"

He growled, "If you weren't my wife…" It died on his lips.

"Then what would you do?" She challenged.

His arms squeezed her just a bit. "Watch your tone."

"No!" She pushed him away. "Do not dull your anger because I am your wife!"

"You don't know what I'm holding back," he seethed. "And don't push me away again."

Cregan was quite terrifying when he wished to be. To make him angry was to wish for death itself.

She dusted herself off. "The North was never in danger, nor is it now," she persisted. "Vhagar cannot handle the winter, and Aemond wouldn't-"

"-STOP!" He growled. His hand reached out and grabbed her wrist. "Just stop."

"You're not listening!"

"And you're too stubborn!"

"Oh!" She yelled. "Are you aren't? You arrogant lit-"

Cregan's face inched closer, his breath over her lips. His voice had dropped the volume. "Didn't I say to be quiet?"

She shuddered at his proximity and her anger quickly subdued into something else. Her eyes flickered to his lips, their breath now mixing in the few inches between them. "Cre…"

"Do I need to show you some manners? Remind you who rules the North?"

Another shiver and the tension grew.

Her voice was barely there, "W-Who rules the North, Cregan?"

He grinned as he tipped her chin up. "I do."

"Do- Do you?" She meant for it to sound confident and challenging, but it came out quiet and meek.

His palm rested on her cheek as he studied her. His thumb pulled down her bottom lip, pushing it into her mouth. She gasped at the intrusion, gagging slightly when he pressed down on her tongue.

"I've never been this angry at someone," he admitted lowly.

The frustrated northerner had the girl at his mercy, and still he was kind. His large hand could crush her skull, yet he never would.

"Hun eeh uhry," she tried to speak.

A humored look came into his eyes, and he pulled him thumb back, ignoring the small string of spit that still connected it to her lips. "What was that?"

"I said," she repeated as she swallowed, "then be angry."

His eyes searched hers frantically for a sign that she was jesting with him. When there wasn't one, he connected his lips to hers.

She yelped at the suddenness, their teeth clashing with how harsh he longed for her.

"I'm gonna take you on every surface of this castle."

His hand found its way to her hair and tugged to expose her neck and his lips soon trailed the delicate skin. He grinned at the way her breath caught when he nipped a delicate spot.

"You're gonna go to our room, strip yourself, and wait for me on our bed."

She had gone pretty mindless thus far, letting the feeling of him sweep over her, but she came back to for only a moment. "No."

"So cheeky today," he hummed. "I told you, as the leader of the North-"

"-I am a Targaryen princess," she countered. "And I command the leader of the North to go to our room, strip all of his clothes, and pleasure himself on our bed until I join him."

She said it with such confidence. Cregan finally saw just how fierce dragon blood could be.

Maybe he was wrong in getting so angry with her.

Maybe she was right. Aemond wouldn't do shit.

He tilted his head and she was sure he would be in a rage at this point.

But instead, his lips pulled up in a smirk. "As my princess commands."

He gave an over-exaggerated bow and stepped from the room, already running his fingers through his hair to tie it up.

.......................................................

A/n: I sense that we may wish for a part two. I mean... how long can we keep Cregan waiting????

Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar@kidd3ath @yujyujj@misswynters@cosmosnkaz@sithapprentice@kaniromi@lovemesomevesey @its-jackie-bb @thorins-queen-of-erebor @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn @callsignwidow @a1lexh-blog@alyssa-dayne @ethereal-athalia @ashovertheriver @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom @dozcan123 @wangjiangelangel @kamitargaryen @aegonswife @lv7867@helpmedecideaname @cherryheairt @classicsimpforaaronwarner

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amomentsescape · 7 months ago

Note

Slashers x reader with wings. Reader's wings are bound, hidden and look heavily damaged from that.

How do the slashers find out? How do they react?

Add the crow guy, Eric, I think?

Slashers with Winged! Reader

Slashers x Reader (Separate)

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, Bo, & Eric

A/N: I am once again sleep deprived, so I apologize if there are any typos or nonsense that I didn't catch reading through this. Thank you for your request!

Freddy Krueger

As mentioned in many previous posts, you can't really hide anything from Freddy

Whenever you sleep, you're in his territory, and he can do whatever he pleases

And one of the last things he'll ever let you do is hide yourself from him

He could see the damage from all the years of hiding your wings, binding them up in hopes no one would notice

And this honestly pisses him off a bit

Why would you ever want to be like everyone else?

Your wings were beautiful, and they made you that much more special

The moment he sees your wings free, you better believe he'll never let you hide them again

Anyone who even gives you the slightest look will be dealt with that same night

Michael Myers

Another one that you can't really hide anything from

He may let you think that he doesn't know about your wings

But in reality, he's known about them this whole time

However, he won't push you to reveal yourself to him until you're ready

It's not like it's a huge deal to him anyways

He's neutral about the whole situation

Wings or no wings, nothing will sway his opinion on you

Just don't wait too long to talk to him about it though

The more time that passes, the more irritated he'll become

Because after this much time together, you have to fully trust him now

Right?

Jason Voorhees

Jason is pretty much clueless from the start

It's not that he isn't observant to you (he watches you 24/7)

It's just that he fully respects your boundaries and won't even hold your hand unless you tell him he can

So when he accidentally walked in on you one day and saw your damaged wings, he just stands there in shock

He snaps out of it when he notices your bashful and worried face however

He's just so confused on why you would hide this from him

He thinks your wings suit you perfectly

In fact, it makes him feel even more assured that you two are meant for each other

He also grew up wanting to hide a part of himself

But having each other means fully embracing the insecurities of the other

He doesn't ever want you to hide your wings from him again

Thomas Hewitt

He honestly would have never even knew about them if it wasn't for his need for late night affection

He just wanted to cuddle up next to you in the middle of the night

But he was met with something out of place on your back

He couldn't help but peek, and the moment he did, he was stunned

But did he even think about running?

No. He just decided to wait until morning to talk to you about it

When he asked you, he could tell you were uncomfortable

And because of this, he did everything he could to reassure you that he wasn't upset or grossed out by your wings

He loves them!

He took them in his hands gently and carefully removed the bindings

There will be no more hiding from him after that

And he'll happily caress your wings every night until you feel reassured

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba didn't mean to walk in on you like this

But the moment he sees the wings, all decency goes out the door

He stumbles in further, his hands reaching out to them

They're breathtaking... but why are they so damaged?

It physically hurts him to see you in any type of pain, and yet you've been carrying this around with you this whole time?

He's a bit hurt you didn't feel comfortable talking to him about this, but he's even more hurt by the fact that they look painful to you

He doesn't even let you protest before he's breaking the ties and freeing the wings

He's blubbering to you, making you promise to never hurt yourself like this, especially when it's something so cool

He spends the next few days playing with your wings, admiring them like a kid with a new toy

Brahms Heelshire

The day he finds out about your wings is one of betrayal

Brahms refuses to let you keep secrets from him, and hiding such a big thing from him upsets him greatly

How can he trust you?

You’ll need to give him some time to cool down, but once he does, he’ll be on you

Will force you to free your wings so he can play with them

It honestly hurts him a bit to see the destruction brought to them

He empathizes with you a bit

He has also spent a good portion of his life hiding a part of himself

But it’s because of this experience that he refuses to let you do the same any longer

You’re with him now anyways

He’ll never let you leave the house

So there will never be another soul to judge this part of you ever again

Norman Bates

He’s kind of speculated for a bit that you were hiding something

He didn’t know exactly what, he just could feel it in his gut

This insecurity was beginning to eat away at him until the day he finally saw the truth

It would be a lie to say that he wasn’t a bit scared at first

Angels have wings, but so did the devil

But seeing your pained expression reassured Norman that you were far from something evil

Once he let everything soak in, he’ll be all over you asking questions

He wants to know everything about you and your wings

He doesn’t want you to hide them anymore, and he’ll take the time each night to clean them and help heal them from years of damage

These are a part of you, and he loves everything about you

Billy Loomis

Billy doesn't really speculate anything

He's confident that he would be able to tell if you were keeping anything from him

Until the night he sneaks in through your window in hopes of surprising you

But instead, he's the one with the surprise

He sees you looking sadly at yourself through the bathroom mirror, your damaged wings on full display

He spends the next few days going radio silent towards you

But on the fourth day, he storms your room and interrogates you on your wings

Why the hell would you lie to him?

He doesn't care that you have something that makes you "different"

He's simply hurt that you kept it from him

However, it only takes an open conversation for him to calm down

He's still a little pissy but happy to know the truth

Just don't keep anything from him again

Stu Macher

This boy is absolutely clueless

But his unconditional, completely suffocating affection is what finally makes you feel comfortable to open up to him

And when you do, his eyes widen and his jaw drops

You almost think he's going to be upset until he speaks

"That's fucking sick"

Has you unbind them immediately with the promise that you won't keep them hidden away like that anymore

He constantly reassures you that anyone who sees them will have the same reaction as him

There are thousands of people that would kill to have wings like yours

Stu included

So don't ever hide something that literally makes you so unique

He loves them

Vincent Sinclair

You honestly told him about your wings right away

It was after a deep conversation about his own insecurities over his appearance and scars

He showed you his face, and you showed him your wings

It was a raw moment of vulnerability between you two, and all it did was strengthen your bond

After that night, you rarely saw him wear that mask, and he refused to let you tied up your wings like that again

He wants to love the real you

And any part you hide from him is a part of you that he can't love freely

He thinks your wings are beautiful, and you become even more of a inspiration for his art

You are quite literally an angel in his eyes, and he won't ever take advantage of that

Bo Sinclair

He was being flirty and touchy, as Bo does

And the moment he felt your back, he was throwing questions at you left and right

There was no lying or hiding the truth from him any longer

Bo hates secrets

So when you fully reveal yourself to him, he's shocked

He doesn't really know what to say at first

He didn't think something like this was possible

But after finally accepting the reality of the situation, he angrily begins tearing off your bindings

How dare you hurt yourself like this? How could you willingly lie to him after all this time?

He's a good mixture of disbelieving and pissed at you

It'll take a couple days to fully understand the situation

But once he does, it's smooth sailing

Eric Draven

Eric is all-knowing

And he knows that you're keeping something from him

But unlike a lot of the others, he's not upset or angry about it

You'll tell him when you're ready, and he trusts you enough to know it isn't anything terrible

And once you do open up about it, he's in absolute awe

His companion is a crow for goodness sake

To think he was ever going to react in any way other than admiration would have been stupid

He does get a bit emotional seeing your wings all tied up and damaged however

He's gentle with you as he sets them free

To see that pain you put yourself through really upsets him

He doesn't ever want you to do something like that again, especially when he sees this as a true gift

He'll spend the rest of the night cleaning and taking care of them, lulling you to sleep

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mooishbeam · 9 days ago

Text

『♡』 Caught Under the Mistletoe

♡ featuring: nanami kento x reader

♡ synopsis: alone on christmas, you spend the night with your equally lonely coworkers. of course, your office crush nanami kento wants to party, too. he's a mystery, yet you can't help wanting to be around him. with a little help, can you beat the odds and finally confess?

♡ wc: 8.0k

♡ tags: fem! reader, jjk au, office au, misunderstood nanami, friends to lovers, corny gojo (as usual), praise, switch nanami, whiny whipped needy nanami, lots of overstim, manhand|ing, öral (f!receiving), mäting press, nanami cums quick, multiple órgasms, basically vanilla

notes: im almost a month late for my christmas fic i am sooo sorry! hope everyone had a happy holidays. did i finish this fic or did this fic finish me? who knows :P comments and reblogs are appreciated! ♡

“Hey, watch your step!”

Gojo barely catches your calf before you trip off the chair you’re dancing on. You fail to realize your heels are sinking into the fabric. Fortunate for him to be there—the tipsy girl isn’t doing herself any favors twirling on a spinning office chair, but liquid courage has its perks. You’re narrowly balancing a drink in your hand—plain whiskey—while Gojo attempts to keep his swishing in the short glass. His efforts must’ve looked like a game to you, because you’re giggling and patting his arm as if he were an exaggerating child.

The rest of the office is in an uproar, loose paper scattered about and documents gone unfinished. Some dancing, others chat over burgundy wine or dark liquor. There’s an awful Christmas song playing in the background, but most are too drunk to hear it. You can almost listen to jingle bells above your belligerent assistant manager addressing his qualms about the boss in a haughty manner; ivory shirt unbuttoned, gut spilling out of his too-tight pants as he raises his glass in protest for a pay raise. The two usual troublemakers you seldom speak to are having a concerning amount of fun with the copy machine and their bare rear.

You’re not without fun though, pencil skirt straining on your thighs while you jump and sing an unrelated song bouncing around in your head. If your boss were here, heaven only knows the trouble you’d be in. Luckily, he isn’t here. Every year, your boss took paid time off to spend time with family during the holidays.

The other losers with nothing to do spent their Christmas at the office.

Sometimes you spent so much time at the office you began to consider it home. And so you’d bring a little piece of home with you, holding a high spirit for the holidays. Red and green festivities kept the joy alive, regardless of the depressed groans and sighs you became accustomed to during shifts. You’re still young, still somewhat hopeful about your future career. You put your heart into decorating the department.

Well, you and Nanami, of course.

“Santa’s little helper�� is what you called him, to which he adjusted his glasses and begrudgingly agreed. He agrees to most of your plans, unless they involve outrageous pranks or a possible HR violation.

When he first arrived to the building, he exuded such a quiet energy you sometimes didn’t notice him on the clock. When the lights dimmed for the day, and you strolled past his cubicle, a bright blue light casted long shadows. His silence was almost intimidating, and though most people made it a point to avoid contact with him, it felt unfair to you. You made it a point to get to know him, even if it were sometimes overwhelming or tedious—popping your head in during crunch time or offering him a snack. He eventually responded in kind. Not the kind that spoke out of obligation, but genuine respect. You haven’t learned much about him since you met him, and he won’t openly indulge, but you make attempts anyway.

You’ve been messing with him the entirety of December. More ‘elf-on-a-shelf’ like, leaving mysterious Christmas trinkets for him to find in his cubicle. A tiny Santa here, a gnome there, gag gifts hidden in his metal drawers. You still remember him opening his briefcase to find a small porcelain reindeer standing up on his folders. And let’s not forget when he sat down after a water break and instead of a whoopie cushion, a traditional Christmas song reverberated across the hallway.

You’ve both done well, spending too much time after hours putting a tree up, blossoming with multicolored ornaments and shapes in no particular theme. Garlands with waxy red berries hang from the fluorescent ceiling lights and removable winter decals are stuck on every wall, next to the inconvenient rainbow bulbs.

Nanami denied the addition of a mistletoe, to your utter dismay. He truly embodied the little helper role, tending to your every request with an accompanied sly comment or concern. Unfortunately, it didn’t subdue the increasing feelings you already have for him. Within your delusion, you’re even starting to believe he might be flirting with you—ridiculous, right?

If stone-cold Nanami were flirting with you, you’d probably die on the spot. There’s no chance though, and you’re fine with crushing from a distance. At least that’s what you’ll tell yourself to maintain a friendship.

He makes it hard, though—incredibly hard. It’s difficult right now, as he leans against a wall away from the crowd, teal button-up taut against his torso, wearing a Santa hat at your request. Nanami, who regularly keeps up with his appearance, looks somewhat disheveled from the alcohol.

You’ve finally learned something about him; he can’t handle his liquor.

He won’t show it, but while he maintains the same stoic expression, strands of hair hang over his somber eyes, and his glasses aren’t perfectly perched on his face. The buttons pull at the fabric, and he heaves heavy with his sturdy arms folded underneath the chest, bunching his spotted tie. The light makes it worse, catching on the veins peaking from his skin. You could trace every tendon corded around his forearms, thick hands swirling a shot glass. It’s smaller in comparison to his palm, and you watch his fingers trace the rim of the glass. They look delicate and manicured, but equally rough. How they’d study the curves of a body, snake around a lovers head as he pulled them close. Wrapping his fingers around-

“You’re drooling” Gojo blurts. You snap your head to him, and he laughs heartily before smacking your back. “Shhh-tt!” You wave a hand over his mouth, but the wide grin he’s sporting goes beyond your reach. He gets in close, not bothering to cover his mouth for the gossip.

“Go tell him.”

“Wha- hell no” you shake your head, stepping down from the chair nursing your dwindling drink. You refuse to hear the absurdity he’s proposing. “Why not? Perfect night, ain’t it?”

You throw back what little is left in the cup and set it on a random coworkers desk. “How so?”

“Christmas Eve. Lots can happen, y’know?” He presses his hand to the sides of your head and turns your attention back to Nanami.

“Lotsss.” You swat him—luckily Nanami was engrossed in the contents of his glass. “Fuck you” you whisper, semi joking. He laughs. “Cmon, me and the guy are cool. Let me wingman.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Why would I ever let you wingman when you can’t even get a date yourself?” He clutches his chest, feigning pain, “Ouch!”

“I’m fine with us just being friends, okay?”

“Pfft, clearly not. I just caught you eye-fucking him.” You roll your eyes, shooing him off mid-conversation. Gojo may be right, but it couldn’t happen today. It wasn’t worth confessing, especially with his gift tucked away in your bag. Life would become too complicated too fast.

You’ve sobered up some from the harsh reality of your situation. Being sober sucks. However, you’ve neglected to check on Nanami since the party started, and now might be a great time. You walk in his direction, steering your eyes from Gojo’s smug expression.

Nanami catches you approaching and nods, sleeves busting against his bicep. His brown sugar eyes are half lidded, and a light glow dusts feverishly over his ears and neck. His chiseled bone structure appears gentle with a pinkish blush. You hold your breath, afraid you might divulge the thoughts searing your tongue with sin.

“How’s my little helper doing?” you ask, leaning against the wall beside him. Your bodies ghosts against each other, never fully touching, always in two separate worlds. You don’t expect his gaze to follow you, and you’re slightly surprised when you turn to him and he’s staring.

“Pretty good,” his voice permeates like fine bourbon, deep and intoxicating to your hazy ears. He speaks in his usual rigid manner despite the drink. You could listen to him talk forever—embarrassingly so, as you got written up for talking frequently in his cubicle. “All thanks to Santa.”

“I’m glad. Did he get you everything you wanted for Christmas?” you smile.

“Yea. She did.” She. You brush it off—a slip of the tongue. It’s hard to trust what a tipsy person says, anyway. You press your nails to the corners of your mouth and pull upwards.

“Then be happy!”

“I am” he responds. Blunt. You sigh dramatically.

“Hmph. But you never smile.” He watches you close, and your nerves cause you to fiddle with the paneled pattern on the glass. So much for wanting his attention.

“Would you like me to?” There’s no humor in his tone. Did you want him to smile? Of course. But you desire the genuine satisfaction of a pure, unfiltered smile. It means nothing if you have to force it out of him.

You turn your head from him with a pointed nose. “Nope. I want it to be genuine when you do.”

Facing him again, you accept the challenge, “I’ll get you to smile!”

There’s a subtle perk in his brow, and faint creases form at the corners of his drooping lids.

“Oh yeah?” he drawls, an octave lower. It spurs a feeling within you that crumples your resolve too fast. Breath catching in your throat, the air is suddenly stuffier than before. You grip the glass for dear life, attempting to compose yourself, but you can’t when he’s staring at you like you’re the only person in existence. You watch the way his eyes flick across your face; your eyes, then your nose, down to the curve of your lips, moving quicker as they travel down. You swallow thick, unable to avert your gaze, unable to stop the heavy rise and fall of your chest. You must be imagining it. Or maybe Gojo’s right, what’s the harm in-

“(Y/N)! Get over here and drink with us!” your assistant manager yells from another section.

It breaks you out of your trance, and you turn on your heels towards the sound, just enough to hide the blush pooling over your cheeks. “Comin’!”

•••

The night has simmered into occasional chatter, with most of your coworkers leaving to go barhopping or get a head start on their hangover. The stragglers—a few employees, you, Gojo, and Nanami—packing up to leave.

You’re throwing your coat over your shoulders, running to your cubicle to hopefully catch the last bus. Before you can grab your briefcase, a flicker of something shiny draws your eye. You pull your drawer open; a miniature snow globe with two fluffy penguins inside wearing festive hats and scarves, flippers stretched as they gather snow. You shake it up and watch the artificial flakes spin in the liquid. A smile unconsciously beams on your face, even more when you notice a yellow note tucked on the underside. You peel off the tape and unfold the post-it note.

“Your turn

-Nanami”

A bland note from a serious man. Even so, your heart feels full to the brink of bursting. You reread the note over and over. You wish you could’ve witnessed big, intimidating Nanami buying the minature from a toy store. Unintentional poker face pointing at tiny penguins. The image sends you into hysterics. Once you’ve had enough of gushing over the same two words, you tuck it in your wallet, a place you won’t forget, and gently put the gift in a safe compartment in your bag.

You can already hear Gojo from the elevator; he gets loud when he’s drunk, and unfortunately he’s a lightweight.

“Cmon, you’re taking too long!” he drones, holding the elevator.

“Okay, okay!” You shuffle inside. You’re a bit sad that Nanami left before you could say goodbye, but you still have the opportunity to give him his present on the next shift. Gojo leans on handrail, button up popped to his stomach.

“So, no one’s gonna make a move, huh?” He pity’s you in his smug, know-it-all attitude, “it’s so embarrassing watching you two.”

You have half the mind to refrain from reminding him about when he broke down midday in front of Geto’s house, begging him to take him back. He gets emotional about it. “It’s not as easy as just saying ‘hey, I’ve liked you since I’ve met you. Please don’t think I’m weird’.”

“Whatever. Guess this must be the life of people with no game. I feel sorry for you, y’know?” You scoff. If anyone has game, it isn’t Gojo.

“I don’t see you getting laid tonight.”

“Spoke too soon, sweetheart. I’m fucking a pretty girl after this. And you’re going home,” he peers under his glasses, “dickless.”

“You’re such a little-“ The elevator dings, opening into the company lobby. Some people are mingling by the sofa. Nanami’s at the front door, putting his beige trench coat on with his briefcase at his side.

You’re about to step out when Gojo intercepts you, walking ahead first.

“Na-Na-Mi!”

“Satoru.” you angry-whisper, trying to grab him. But he dodges your attack effortlessly and glances behind, mouthing ‘shut up’.

Nanami turns to Gojo, not exactly peeved but surely not happy to see him. They’re two opposites, and you could tell that Gojo quickly got on his nerves. “Hello.”

Gojo puts an arm around him, and you watch him visibly clam up. “So formal! The boss isn’t here, you can speak normally.”

“This is how I speak. Also, happy holidays.”

“Mhm, mhm. By the way, my friend (Y/N) here wants to-“

“Also wish you a happy holiday!” you chime in, speaking through your teeth. More like screaming, as you try to grab the attention of Gojo’s massive ego, to no avail.

“Riiight. Anyway, Nanami-“

“Shouldn’t we all start heading home?” you add, itching to run from the situation. You zip your coat, but Gojo won’t let you go that easily.

“We should! In fact, Nanami, (Y/N) doesn’t have anyone to walk her home. She lives far, and you know how dangerous it is for a woman to walk alone at night.”

You feel your eye twitch. You might actually kill him tonight.

“I’ve got a date tonight so I can’t do it. And I know you have nothing to do so-“ Nanami side-eyes him, then turns to you. For a second, his gaze seems to soften. You smile, mostly as a silent apology for Gojo’s rambling.

“Would you like me to walk with you?” he asks kindly.

“…If you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind at all” he’s quick to retort.

“Great! No time to waste then!” Gojo proclaims. He brings his other arm around you, guiding both of you out the sliding doors and into the cold darkness dotted by frosted streetlamps. He steps back from the throuple and brings Nanami close, practically smushing you together by the arm.

“See ya!” he waves.

Nanami surveys the path, giving you ample opportunity to glare at Gojo. He never cared, dopey grin on his face as he mimics a sexual act with his hands. Then he walks in the other direction, leaving you to deal with the situation he created. The bus is long gone.

“Are you ready?” Nanami says, directing you to the inside of the sidewalk.

“Yea, let’s go.”

Snowfall cascades in blooming white sparkles amongst the icy sky. It drapes the parked cars in sheets of powder, and the tips of your shoes in frost. The solid breeze through your pantyhose creeps into your bare legs. Cold, but not uncomfortable. You luckily brought earmuffs, but Nanami isn’t as fortunate. Checkered scarf draped around his coat, you can’t tell if his ears are red because of the chill or tipsy after effects. He looks at you, unaware of the red patch on his nose.

“Sorry about Gojo” he says.

“Don’t worry, I’m used to it.”

“If you’re too cold, I can call you a taxi, instead.”

“No worries, I’m fine. Are you cold, Rudolph?” you snicker.

He unconsciously touches his nose with pinkish fingers. “Is my nose red?”

You stop in your tracks, “Come, I can fix it for you.”

Nanami obeys and kneels down to your height, eyes fixed to the concrete gradually collecting more snow. Flakes dance around you, towering amongst his hair and sinking in the woolen scarf. You gently bring your hands around the fabric and loop once around his neck. Your knuckles graze his winded jaw in the process—soft and cool, a bit of stubble you barely noticed. You tuck the fringed end pieces into the loop, close to his nose where hot breaths warm your hand. The back shimmies over his head in a balaclava style to hopefully shield him from the icy onslaught.

“Done. You should get warmer now.” He stands straight with a soft mien. Nanami always shared an easy stare. Yet the same easygoing stare now causes your face to burgeon unimaginable colors.

“Thank you.” The ghost of a smile sweeps his lips, so quick you can’t decide if it’s a fluke or not.

You continue treading through the snow, hands stuffed in coat pockets, legs stiffly shuffling together to preserve any heat. It’s quiet for some time—you’re afraid you’ll overstep. In-depth conversations weren’t often had, and you’re unsure of how to proceed without being pushy.

“Is work getting easier for you?”

“Yes. The workload is manageable and I’m making good progress with reports this month. I can get ahead of next month’s fiscal documentation.” Refined and straightforward. A natural born salaryman.

“You’re always talking about work” you glance at him, “I’m curious, what are your hobbies?”

When he doesn’t speak, you immediately go into damage control. “You don’t have to answer if it’s too personal.”

“I bake…” he mutters, a discovery that persists in the space. Nanami is the last person you’d expect to enjoy baking. You half expected him to reply with something mundane like filing taxes. It warms your heart to imagine him in an apron pressing cookie dough through gingerbread molds. He had that endearing quality about him.

“Really? What’s your favorite thing to make?”

“Double chocolate chip cookies.”

Your mouth gapes, “Wait…remember when I stole those cookies from you on your break? You made those?” You recall the confectionary treat and the way it melted in your mouth. You practically stalked his lunchbox for days hoping he’d bring more.

“Yes.”

“Oh my god, they were so good!” you chirp, “why didn’t you say you made them?”

“…I’m not too confident in my abilities yet.”

“They were amazing, you should be proud” you say, gazing up at him. You’re suddenly hyper aware of the lack of space between you two—arms brushing, shoulder leaning on him a bit. You’ll tell yourself it’s because of the cold. Just this once.

“If you enjoy them so much, I’ll bring some next time.”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

He gives you a faint nudge, calling your attention. He doesn’t seem bothered by the extra weight on his body. “And what do you like to do outside of work?”

“I read a lot. I write occasionally.”

“Any specific genre?”

“No, not really. I’ll read anything if it interests me.”

“I’d like to see what you write sometime. You have a creative spirit.”

You recognize it clear as day. The upturned curve of his dry lips, wrinkled eyes sweet and gentle in the dim amber lighting of a street lamp. Freckled by the reflection of steady snow, they appear sparkling as they bore into you.

“Thanks” is all you manage to choke out.

“I didn’t know you walk this way.”

“‘Cause you’re always doing overtime”, you hesitate before you add, “you should give yourself a break once in a while. Take care of your health more.”

“It’s nothing to worry about.” But I’m worried. It’s meant to be reassurance, but reassurance can only go so far when there’s noticeable eye bags. You step in front of him, spinning to make eye contact.

“Before we split, don’t go. I want to give you a present.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Of course I do! We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Nanami sighs a laugh. “Yes, we are.” He holds the sides of your earmuffs, pressing them tight to your head. Almost as if he’s ensuring you don’t get too cold. “I feel bad now. I haven’t gotten you anything.”

“That’s okay. Walking with me is enough.”

“Then could I walk you all the way home?”

The answer leaves your mouth before you can think, “Sure!”

You pause, deliberating on your urge to extend the invitation. Nanami regards you closely, watching the minute muscles in your lips twitch as your words come to fruition. You avert your eyes. If only he knew the effect it had on you.

“It’s p-pretty cold out here. Maybe if you want, you could come inside. Just to like, get warm, y’know?”

Something flashes in Nanami’s gaze. Brief like other times, yet this one feels darker—full of incomplete emotions you’re not ready to decipher yet. He’s generous with smiles tonight.

“If you’ll have me.”

Back at your apartment, you’re fishing for the key in your never-ending purse. You’re somewhat thankful for its disappearance since it gives you time to compose yourself. You’re hoping the state of your home is acceptable to his standard. You hook the key ring under your pinky and pull it out.

The door, embellished with a Christmas pinecone wreath, creaks open into the narrow entryway.

“Please come in.” He obliges, following after you as you drop your bag on the cluttered hall tree. You’re too distracted tucking your shoes properly in the rack, aligning them meticulously where it doesn’t count. Then you notice his footsteps came to a halt.

Unlucky for you, you forgot about the shiny object you’ve had dangling at your entryway since December arrived. It slips your mind sometimes when it’s so out of reach, inches above you. But for Nanami’s height, it draws his attention instantly.

A pine and cedar mistletoe sprouting red berries hangs from the ceiling by a red ribbon. Meant to be a joke for Shoko when you smother her in excessive love. Meant to complete the other holiday decorations littering your apartment.

What it wasn’t meant for, was the impulsive invitation to your crush. You stare at it, to which your eyes wander to Nanami, also staring at it. He’s lingering, then he looks at you, amused grin tugging at his lips.

“Uh, ignore that!” you stammer, a nervous tick in your tone.

“Were you expecting someone?” He’s already removing his hat and scarf.

“No, it’s just a silly joke between me and Shoko.” He watches you intently. You have to get used to the laidback version of Nanami, for the sake of avoiding a heart attack.

“I can take your coat!” you divert, but he dodges your grasp. “No need. You’ve had a long day.” He places it on one of the pegs.

“Well, make yourself comfortable. Do you want anything to drink?”

“I’m fine for now, thanks.”

You quickly scuffle to the kitchen. A tall glass of water to subdue your pounding heart. It’s the fault of your own body, psyching you up to believe that for a second, Nanami might be reciprocating your interest. In a way, conversing with him was easier when you had no expectations, no indication of “like” on his end. You aren’t even sure what like means from his perspective.

When you leave the kitchen, he’s sitting on the couch, legs spread with an arm resting on the back of it. He shifts in his seat, beige slacks taut on the fat of his thighs. You run to grab the cyan felt gift box from your bag and return to the living room.

Plopping down, it’s pretty cramped for the span of two people. It's not this crowded when Shoko comes over, but what did you expect when Nanami’s wingspan is twice the size of yours. With your back on the armrest, your knees are inches from his.

You hold out the box towards him. “Here you go, I hope you like it.”

He grabs it, feeling the material. Then he glances at your giddy face before opening it. It displays a polished gold chronograph watch with brown leather trim. The ivory velvet interior contrasts against the gold-toned dials, and he marvels it with shock.

“This was expensive” he says, examining the sub dials like fragile glass. It definitely was, and you did a few overtimes for it, but you won’t tell him that. “I hope you didn’t go through any trouble to get this.”

“You deserve it. You do a lot for everyone. And you’ve tolerated my nonsense all month.”

“Thank you isn’t enough for something like this. I’ll do what I can to repay you.”

You splay your palm. “Aht aht, don’t even think about repaying me.”

“I’m covering your lunch for the rest of the year” he states, matter-of-fact. You don't correct your touching knees.

“I won’t let you.” A chuckle escapes through his nose, features softening along the edges of his chiseled cheeks.

“Then how about those cookies?”

“…I’ll take that” you beam, “and, I want to be your test subject for any desserts you make in the future.”

“Whatever you want.” He slides the watch out of the display and gives it to you. “Would you like to put it on?”

You unlatch the gold buckle and align the brown straps on his wrist. Fine blonde hair covers his forearm and you couldn’t fit your hand around his wrist if you tried, but you manage with two. “It fits perfect.”

“How’d you figure out my wrist size?”

“Remember when I asked for your help with a friend’s surprise gift?”

“Ah, so that was a lie?” he grins.

“Just a little one.”

“Lying's bad for company morale.”

“Then it’s a good thing we’re not at work right now, huh?”

“Mhm.” Nanami reaches for his tie, drawing it loose with a finger. “Very good.”

You slide your shoes off, perching your foot on the other one before sliding that one off, as well. There’s a numbing pressure eating at your heels. You rub the balls of your ankles, persistent aches from the nonstop dancing you’ll sooner feel tomorrow.

“Does it hurt?”

“I should’ve taken my shoes off when I danced” you sigh.

He pats his thigh. “Let me help.”

You blink. Once. Twice. Does he want me to...? You don’t have the heart to question it. Not when it’s working in your favor.

“If...that’s okay.” You’re startled a bit when he immediately scoops your leg and hikes it over his thigh in a single motion. You stare at his solid, vein-woven hands encompassing the surface of your ankle.

“By the way, I don’t ‘tolerate’ you. I had fun when we were decorating.”

“Oh, really? It didn’t seem like it, haha.” You’re nervous laughing. Between the small confession and the affectionate thumb swaying back and forth, you’re flustered beyond belief.

“I look forward to our conversations. I’ve never thought of you as a bother.”

You’re sure he’s talking at this point. You know he is. Yet, the series of firm, delicate touches along your ankle dull your ears to everything besides the sound of rough pads moving rhythmically along nylon.

“…Do you give massages often?” Nanami doesn’t look at you, transfixed on catering to your calf. He’s passed your point of soreness, traversing up your leg for the massage. His kneading sends your skin aflame. It’s a fervent intensity that starts at your trembling voice and ends in an embarrassing mess between your thighs. You can’t bear to meet his face. A pinkish tint to his knuckles, brushing the back of your thighs and scaling higher.

“No. I’m practicing for you” he says, breathy and caught in a sharp wind. That’s when you notice his wrinkled collar, buttonholes straining from his tight breathing, and a burning glow poured over his ears and neck. His touches grow impatient, out of sync as if he’s trying to dig under the material to palm raw skin. “I’ll owe you more in the future.”

The watch reflects bright in the headlights of your Christmas tree. Like you’ve laid claim to him. He’s wearing you on his arm.

“You look great.” He pauses, finally turning to gaze at you. His glasses are off center, and his eyes—blooming and almost black—crave a certain unsatiable hunger, gnawing at his stomach with a feast just out of reach. He wouldn’t dare eat without permission.

“It looks great…on you.”

“You look great too” he whispers through a clenched jaw. Your breaths mingle in the space, thoughts going unsaid while somehow tainting the air with insistent need. You can't stand it. Can’t stand the way your thighs clench, searching to stave off desire.

Nanami parts his chapped lips, then closes them. He swallows nothing, Adam’s apple bobbing. Restless.

Every little action he performs elicits a sense of longing once buried in an unattainable sector of your heart.

“Hah…please don’t look at me like that” he says, tense and on the verge of begging.

“Like what?”

“Like you want me.” It leaves his mouth. Another confession, syrupy and coated in a deep desire, pulsing in the very core of you. He relieves a shaky breath, a ticked jaw struggling to relax.

“I do.”

Nanami’s restless demeanor shifts fast, and the air he’d been saving escapes him entirely. He smoothly tucks his grip under your knees and pulls you close. You settle on his lap, chest to chest, hovering over him. Noses ghosting, threatening to concede. Boiling heat coils in waves in your gut, and your heart skips across your ribcage. He’s equally flustered, if not more. You feel the heavy bulge prodding your tights, enough to earn a muffled sigh.

“You’re giving me false hope.”

“I want you.” He places a hand behind your neck, another trailing up your curves.

“Say it again” he mouths into you. They’re soft, languid with your own. You caress his face, enduring the way he tests your lips, nudging just to pull back.

“I want-”

Before you can finish your sentence, he crashes onto you. The well-mannered Nanami you knew stalks your tender lips with unbridled yearning. Chasing your mouth as if you’d vanish if he released. His lips turn slick from a succession of sloppy, uncoordinated kisses and you’re nearly suffocating. He doesn’t falter, though, choosing to devour your moans, your body, anything relating to the idea of you. He attempts to be gentle with the pace of a lover—but judging by the way he hurriedly hunts your mouth when you part for air, he’s missing the mark.

His hands snake over your waist to the fat of your ass. Fondling through your clothes, you feel the true nature of his grip as pillowy indents fill the space between his fingers. You’ve found purchase in his golden locks, carding through his hair to pull him impossibly close. You’re light-headed, drunk off the pressure of his kiss, his touch refusing to leave your body. The only thing separating your embrace are the tiny moans and whimpers that follow them. Your body betrays you, clenching around nothing like a virgin having her first kiss.

You’re both huffing once you break. Nanami licks his lips, savoring the taste, a crude groan beneath it.

“You give me mixed signals” you pant.

“Then allow me to make it clearer.” He throws his glasses to the side, skittering somewhere on the floor.

Nanami dives back into your mouth, gliding his whiskey-singed tongue against yours. Unrefined, messily exploring your mouth in a manner of wet smacks. The sound goes straight to your sticky underwear, and you’re shifting uncomfortably in his grasp, to which he holds you sturdy on his lap.

“Don’t go” he whimpers, drawing a fleeting breath. Blown-wide pupils bore into you, “I need you.” He licks a stripe up your tongue, allowing a trace of drool to slip amid you as he smothers you in French kisses. His mouth is hot, laden with a dizzying mix of alcohol and zeal, yet he cups your cheek lovingly. You’re slinking under his shirt, fumbling with the fasteners until they pop. Your one-minded focus ignores the buttons scurrying across the rug to enamor his ample pecs, flushed and plump in tandem with his husky build.

You’re alternating against each other’s tongues, neither one of you willing to depart. Gorged on the whimpers you evoke as you cradle his plump chest.

“Darling, please” he whines.

He guides your ass along his aching bulge, stealing a satisfied moan from the depths of your mouths. You’d mistake it for a thermal water bottle if it didn’t twitch. Back and forth on his slacks, the seam bumps your clit each time you roll your hips, smearing the dribbling mess from your pantyhose. He leaves you to oscillate on the tensing fabric, pursuing a semblance of relief, jolts of frisson enveloping you.

You withdraw from him to occupy the space on his neck. Splotching rough, spit-soaked kisses in blurs of red to match his tumid lips. He has a pretty, desperate voice, cracking when you suck on his pulse point. “Uhn, just like that—god.” He lets his head fall a little further, steering you in cycles. “Want more of you.”

When he pulls you up, an evident gloopy trail follows the score of your tights, and you shy away from the scene. He kneads your plush thighs as he spreads them apart, pecks dotted on your cheeks. “Don’t be shy. You’re gorgeous.”

Nanami supports your lower back while picking the buttons from your blouse. Or at least he’s trying to—his desperate limbs can’t latch on properly, and he inevitably snaps it down the middle. You discard it and he’s instantly on your breasts, licking and biting as he reaches for the bra clasp. You take it off yourself in fear of him breaking that too.

His kisses linger on the swell, even when he talks through it. “You don’t know how long”, he gradually raises your skirt to your waist, “I’ve been waiting to touch you like this.”

Nanami takes a nipple in his mouth, circling it recklessly. He indulges in the parts he’s desired for months, indecent with the tug of his teeth on your bud. A lewd stare, misted and still greedy for seconds. And it’s overwhelming; the constant pounding in your cunt, slobber coating your mound with him groping the other. It’s like he has multiple ravenous hands surrounding you, dancing over every crevice he can manage. Consuming you.

And when the soft moans begin to leave you again, it’s driving him crazy. He picks you up and flips you to lay on the couch. He doesn’t back off for long, only to shimmy his shirt off and rend the belt from its loops. You forget to remove your own clothes, too busy gawking at the remaining attire—a loose tie, sock suspenders, and black briefs drenched in milky precome. He drops to his knees in a heartbeat, sharing a warm smile. Nanami really is adorable, and you’re facing a whirlwind of emotions from the contrast of his brimming underwear, and the hold that manhandles your legs on either side of his shoulders.

His brows furrow, agitated with the nylon clinging to what he's lusting after. He grabs the front of them and easily tears it into elastic shreds. He doesn’t apologize this time. You aren’t bothered by it—if anything, it removes some of the pressure from your throbbing muscles. He promptly soothes it, wrapping around your inner thighs to feed his hands into the rips.

“You’re so soft” he moans against the surface just as he paws it. A sigh and he’s immersing his face in the groove of your pussy, smudging open-mouthed kisses over your sensitive clit. The unfiltered contact sends a thrum through your body, though clamping your legs proves futile.

“Ah, be patient” you joke, playing with his hair. He doesn’t spare a glance, webbed mess coating his lips, a thread from him to you.

“Can I eat you? Please?” It comes off more like a formality than an actual question as he nuzzles into you, breathing in with a guttural groan. He slides the soaked cotton halfway, full range to admire your dribbling slit. You can tell he strives to pamper it slow, but Nanami doesn't possess the strength to tease or be composed.

He treats your pussy as if it’s a separate entity from you, indulging and dragging his tongue in long, flat stripes. Nanami eats you for his own enjoyment, eager like a man starved. Slurping and swilling in loud, gratifying squelches. Low mmf’s vibrate against your arousal, but it’s hard to hear when you’re anchored to his face and he refuses to let go. A desperate tongue drinking your heady scent, oblivious to the honeyed fluids sluicing down his chin. He repeats small, calculated licks and continues to treat your squishy flesh like a pliable stress ball.

“Fuck, it’s s'good—so, so good.” You learned something new about Nanami today: he can curse.

Nanami embeds his fingerprints in your skin. Toying with the taste of you, stopping to swirl the relentless appendage around your swollen clit. The tip of his nose does part of the job for him. Your utmost efforts rely on the yank of his scalp, knot after knot collecting in a burning surge through your quivering abdomen. Cries croak in your throat, unable to emerge while he’s having a personal, filthy make-out session with your pussy. He fits perfect sandwiched between your juicy folds and he’ll make sure you know it.

“’M so close” you moan. That’s something he does hear, because he instantly holds tighter, all attention directed to the trembling bundle of nerves. Pleasure builds quick, and when your legs start to shake, he takes that as a sign to delve deeper, sucking aggressively through the shudder. Your body caves and you’re reduced to ecstasy, rutting against his mouth with no control. He gladly accepts in kind. “Nanami.” You’re calling for him, and he hums inside, satisfied as he laps at the spasms.

He comes up for well-deserved air, sweat sheen from his matted hair to the blonde tufts sitting below his bellybutton. Dopey, glossy grin on his face, he shirks out of the tights and places a kiss on the lips he missed so much. You taste yourself on his tongue. Then you feel a finger glide against your syrupy entrance.

“Nanami, wait.” He peppers kisses down your torso where he returns to his knees.

“I have to make sure you can take me, baby.” Another grazes, soaking in your essence with a few languid drags. One dips inside, quickly finding a home in your gooey walls. Tiny aftershocks mimic the slow drawl of a curling finger and you’re keening.

“Mm, too much.”

“I’m sorry.” He pumps a tolerable, sopping stretch. Adding a finger, “Be a good girl, okay?”

You’re clinging to him, sucking him in hopes for more. Your pussy greedily eats it up despite the overstimulated smolder, a melting thump thump that contracts around him. He’s twisting his fingers in a c-shape, looking for little hints that he’s in the right direction, and you’re giving him everything he needs.

His tender, loving stare settles on you. Lapping at your clit and pumping your g-spot while you succumb to the hazy pressure thawing your head. You’re melting in a frenzy of cries, simultaneously reeling and pleading for him. Nanami’s determined; imbibing the juices gushing from your vulva and tailing the frenetic buck of your hips.

“Uh, oh shit, right there” you moan, and he speeds up.

“Yeah? Right here?” You’re nodding nonsensically, whine peaking. Your back arches and he moves to your breast. “Let it out, darling. I got you. Come on my fingers baby.”

The second he latches onto the nub you’re rendered silent, mouth shaped in an ‘O’ as you come hard around his fingers. He slows, milking your orgasm for all it has, careless of your shaking legs and tears gathering on your lashes. He pecks the corner of your eye, and you’re too caught up in your own sobs to see him lick his lips.

“Such a good girl for me.” You’re showered in kisses and he rubs circles on your waist. You blink back the tears, meeting tongue and teeth in a carnal exchange. But you’re craving more, him and nothing else. You palm his erection and he groans. You can see the painful print of his entire cock through his briefs, angry tip peeking out ever-so-slightly.

“Take it off” you whisper. You watch his eyes flicker, a moment of hesitation—you won’t let him. “Stand up.”

Nanami obeys your command and quickly stands. You hook under his waistband and yank them off. His thick cock stands at attention, nearly smacking you across the face. It’s a bashful red to base, glazed fat head dribbling precome down his heavy balls. He looks like he’ll unravel at any second. You bring a digit to his balls and it twitches. Dragging it up the veiny shaft, gathering his salty mess to spread it over your held out tongue. He stifles a faint shudder.

“Baby, let me put the condom on.” At least you didn’t have to worry about bringing your own. You wrap your hand around his head, enough tension to be sure he doesn’t find comfort. You rub a thumb over it and his breaths yield shallow.

“Hm? Why?” you ask, batting your eyelashes as you deliver a small lick. He hitches.

“D-don’t.”

“You don’t wanna feel my mouth?” He bites his lip, probably thinking about your pretty face gagging with a mouthful of him. You know the real reason why he won’t, and it’s rather cute that he’d save his release.

“I-I do. God, I really do. But I-”

“But what...?” You swirl it once, and he can’t even handle that.

“C-condom” he whimpers, almost pleading. “Condom...what?”

“Condom please. Please.”

“Go get it.” He makes sheepish haste to his coat, returning with a gold wrapper. He’s about to rip it but you stop him.

“Give it to me.” You tear it open with your teeth and position it over the head. Rolling it over, pursuing it with tantalizing, soft kisses. You feel him pulsing against your lips until you’ve secured the condom at the base. He swallows dry and his stomach recoils on nothing. You enjoy his needier display.

“C’mere sweetheart” you tempt, luring his body to loom over you. He pushes your legs back and spreads you wide. “I’ll take it slow.”

His brows crumble, jaw wedged, angled at your pussy. It’s already soaking him and he hasn’t put it in yet. You do your best to make him ease up, a hand placed over his. But as it dips into you, Nanami’s chewing his lip, going haggard before it ever started. He stops completely, an effort to compose himself even when he’s growing stiff and melty at merely the tip.

“Just g-give me a second” he stammers, and you stay still while he slides the first inch into your creamy, chubby cunt. Stretching and clenching around him in a sappy sluice, he has to pause again, quivering in place. “Fuck-“

Nanami moves a few inches and his hearts beating out of his chest. Foggy, sensual weight sticks to the edges of his brain and coils in his leaden sack.

“I-I don’t know if…” A mouthwatering, snug fit, pulling him deeper. He’s grinding the rest in, but every time he gets a little further his throat bobs and he tenses. You’re molding to his length, encapsulating him in squelching fire, and he’s never felt anything like it in his life. Once he’s flush with you, he sighs, beating a fraction of the battle.

He starts at an agonizing pace. It’s not doing him any favors—now he has to suffer through every sloppy drag, walls committing his veins to memory in a tight, addictive grip. He caresses your face.

“I’m sorry. Bear w-with me” he whines, and you hold your hand over his. You’re not doing it intentionally, but watching him fall apart is truly a sight to behold—strands glued to his forehead, pussy-whipped fawn eyes lost in your warmth. You guide his fingers to your mouth and deliberately suck on them. Cruel of you, but it’s worth it for his wobbly whimpers, his delirious, thrumming cock. You know he won’t last.

“No- Haaah, I can’t yet.” His hips lurch, and he holds back yet again. You lock your ankles around his back, giving him no room to fight it. He’s buried deep. “It’s okay, Ken. You can come.”

Ken. Nanami loses it on the spot, coming instantly in a string of curses and delicate moans.

“Shit- oh my god. Baby- oh, haa-ah-“ he cries, but his other thoughts spill out of him in soupy babbles. His movements stutter and you still milk him dry. He’s throwing his head back shaking and you gently massage his waist until he comes down. It takes some time.

“You okay?” You feel him half-flaccid inside, and he’s panting on the shell of your ear.

“I’m sorry” You brush the hair from his face.

“Don’t be sorry about anything.” You kiss his forehead when suddenly your legs are being forced back.

“Wanna keep going” he says, a hint of drool at the corner of his mouth.

“Take a breather first.” He’s stuck in the irrational corners of his thoughts—every waking idea engulfed in the thought of you. He’s mumbling to himself, beginning to swing his discordant hips again. His voice cracks, body pushed past overexertion.

“Call me Ken” he whimpers, sticky squelches meeting your bodies in a tangled, milky net.

“Ken” you whisper, a flirtatious tint in your tone. He’s entranced by you. You’re touching foreheads, and he shamelessly mewls like a slut in your ear through every gooey plap.

“How long have you liked me?”

“Since we’ve m-met” he drones, finding a sopping rhythm. “I was scared. I thought- ah- you might not like me.”

“So, you’ve been waiting for this?”

“F-fuck, yeah. Ah- feels so good. Even better than my dreams” he prattles.

You cup his face. “You dream of me?”

“Uh-huh. Makin’ a mess of this pretty pussy. It’s so much better. So, so fucking good.”

“Hold on.” He leans on the couch, legs bent on either side of you as he positions you like a pretzel.

“Need it” he moans, slathered in your cuddly embrace. He’s hardening again, quick, and already skirting an addictive torture.

He pulls out and drives his sack flush. It knocks the wind out of you, and you claw his back as he fucks with reckless abandon.

Slurring a plethora of unhinged ‘more’s, he pistons inside, base to head, ass rippling against his savage thrusts. Every vast, violent stroke sends an intoxicating burn to your sweltering cervix. A while film bubbles at his sack where he’s pummeling, jaw slack and doe-eyed.

Your toes curl, hypersensitive nerves teased and flipped, ruined by his adamant cockhead kissing your g-spot. You’re stretched past your limits, fluttering helplessly around him. His corrupted smile curves against your neck bursting with need.

“Taking me so well, darling. I might come. C-can-hah-can I baby? Can I come for you?” He’s impossibly fast, funneling whines and nasty slaps. The rabid force bangs the couch against the wall and you’re at his mercy.

“Mhm, g-go ahead Ken.” Waves of white-hot pleasure fizzle and spark on your skin, and you’re putty with the weight of him bouncing you.

“Thank you, t-thank you-you’re so good t-to me.” He’s ragged, plummeting to the hilt. Your spasms sap him as he trembles, succumbing to your own orgasm. He grapples heavy, mean strokes, sticky laces bonding his tightening balls. Then he sobs, quaking until he comes.

He doesn’t pull out. You’re both quiet for a while. On a descent, simply delighting in the comfortable silence. You join in another smooch.

“(Y/N).”

“Hm?”

“Merry Christmas.” You glance at the time; way past midnight. He meets your gaze. After everything you did, you’re worried over one question.

“Can we get to know each other?”

He smiles, a kiss to your neck.

“I would love to.”

#jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #nanami x you #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami #nanami kento #nanami kento smut #nanami smut #nanami x reader #kento nanami #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen au #this fic finished me tbh #i havent wrote smut in so long #srry if its scuffed lol

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ang3ltine · 6 days ago

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𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐁𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐬 - ft Se mi x wife reader

𝖲𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: A cute little headcanon of what domestic life with Se mi as your partner would be like ♡

𝖶𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: suggestive themes, but that's pretty much it

☆After getting married, Se mi was the one who suggested that you two should buy an apartment instead of renting to save money, so that's exactly what you did.

☆ It took some time, but you two finally bought your dream apartment with a cute private rooftop that has a nice view of the city.

☆ Let's just pretend in this universe, Se mi didn't have to join the games and isn't in dept. In this case, you guys would be pretty well off. I feel like Se mi would be an amazing partner and very supportive of you and your decisions!

☆ Se mi is a tattoo artist while you worked at a boutique that you own. You both take turns to see each other during break since you two worked close by. Your coworkers definitely envied you whenever Se mi came over to the boutique to see you xd

☆ Whenever it's someone's turn to cook, someone else has to clean the dishes after. That's the only rule in the household. Also you two take turns on cooking depending on the rota you guys make for the week.

☆ Honestly Se mi looks so good with just a plain white long sleeve top that she has rolled up above her elbows. While her sweatpants sits low on her hips and her dark hair sticks to her forehead due to the steam from the pot. It's such a turn on but you'd never admit that to her.

"Hm? What're you staring at babe?" Se mi smirked slightly as she felt your burning eyes from behind.

"Uhmm nothing...? Just admiring the view, hehe."

☆ Yall definitely got a black cat from an adoption centre nearby and named her Boo. She's super playful, just like Se mi! You were honestly surprised as to how similar the two were. But you're not one to complain.

☆ Se mi is surprisngly super clingy at home, even though she acts all cool she's a softie inside. Absolutely loves cuddling on the sofa or in bed and can never keep her hands to herself.

☆ Expect makeout sessions on the kitchen counter top or have lazy morning intimacy in bed and Se mi won't let you leave unless you protest alot.

"Can we please stop now..?"

You huffed as you weakly tried pushing your lover off your body who had you trapped beneath her. Not having enough strength due to the sheer amount of pleasure you had been receiving from her.

"Uh uh, not yet Sweets, we're only getting started"

☆ Se mi doesn't mind you bringing friends over, even if they're guys. However, if she sees a guy who clearly knows you're in a relationship try and make advances on you then she'll step in. She trusts you completely, but not the sleeze bag. Don't expect him to leave without a bruise or two, depending on how persistent he was.

☆ It's normal for couples to fight in a relationship but you two don't do it often. Whenever you do, Se mi does everything she can to apologise, however, if you're in the wrong she'll point it out without making the situation worse. Will comfort you after if you're upset and take you out on a date to cheer you up.

☆ Date nights are the best as you guys are often busy throughout the day. Sometimes you'd hang out in the nearby park or go to the convenience store and just catchup. Or you'd have a movie marathon where you'd cuddle on the couch, sometimes leading to more if you're in the mood.

☆ Bathtime/showers with Se mi are often calm and relaxing. If she was feeling playful then she'd have you writhing under her touch, either from a tickle attack or coming on her fingers.

☆ Like I mentioned before, both of you would definitely collect figurines, so you two definitely go to popmart together! She likes Hirono and Kubo, whereas you liked Skullpanda and Molly figurines. You'd decorate your room with showcases and get matching labubus together!!

☆ You guys are decent neighbours, and everyone seems to love you two! There weren't any complaints from them as you two are respectful and try to keep the noise down when listening to music late at night.

☆ Se mi would definitely be the one to give you the most gifts/presents whenever she has the chance to. Especially bouquets, each would be different every time but they'd be your favourite. Of course, she'd be super grateful if you did the same!

☆ Overall domestic life with Se mi would be full of surprises and she's the best partner you could ever ask for!! ♡♡

#squid game #squid game x reader #squid game season 2 #se mi x reader #player 380 x reader #squid game smut #squid game headcanons #player 380 #ang3ltine

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midnight-shadow-cafe · 3 months ago

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After Hours

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

AU: Mechanic 141x Reader

Warnings: language, mentions of drinking

Authors Note: I hope you enjoy, I love this AU so much-

Word Count: 1.2k

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The hum of engines echoed in the quiet garage, softened by the dim overhead lights as evening bled into night. Most of the team had clocked out, leaving just you and a few of the guys to finish up the last project of the day. Price had stayed, though he lingered more at the edges of the room, keeping a steady, watchful eye as he supervised the night’s work.

Soap was stationed at the paint table, bent over a vibrant paint mix he’d been obsessing over all week. His eyes lit up as he caught you watching, grinning as he lifted a paintbrush with a flourish. “See, it’s all about layers,” he said, his accent thick with his excitement. He dipped his brush, dragging it across the paint in deft strokes. “Depth’s gotta be just right. With the right mix, it catches the light like—dunno—a sunrise on a clear day, yeah?”

“Since when did you get so poetic, Soap?” you teased, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth as you watched him. You were still wiping grease off your hands, the stain already becoming a familiar sight from your few weeks here, but somehow you’d come to like it. A reminder of belonging.

“Since I met you,” he said without missing a beat, that grin of his widening just enough to make your cheeks flush.

Before you could even respond, Gaz strolled in, his own work gloves tossed over his shoulder as he settled against the workbench beside you. “Still on about that paint job, eh, Soap?” He shot you a conspiratorial smile. “Trust me, he’s dragged everyone into it—won’t be long before he’s begging you to stay all night mixing colors with him.”

“Oi, don’t you start, Gaz,” Soap protested, a playful scowl forming as he brandished his paintbrush like a weapon. “Art takes patience, you know. Some of us have an eye for beauty.”

“More like an eye for wasting time,” Gaz shot back, shaking his head with a laugh as Soap huffed in mock offense.

Their banter was interrupted by the sound of footsteps. Price approached, arms crossed as he surveyed the group with a small smirk. His gruff expression was softened by the amusement in his eyes, but his words were all business. “Alright, enough chit-chat. We’ve got that engine to finish if we want it done by morning.”

That was Price for you—focused and direct, keeping everyone in line. Yet he never pushed too hard, and the respect he commanded made it easy to listen, to want to do your best. He’d taken you under his wing from the start, not coddling you but always offering steady guidance when things got tough. You had only been at *Tactical Motors* a few weeks, but already, he made you feel like part of the team.

“Already on it,” came a low voice from behind you. Ghost stepped forward from the shadows, silent and as intimidating as ever. He handed you a wrench, his gloved fingers brushing against yours for a brief second. His presence settled next to you, steady and unyielding, making you feel like there was nothing that could go wrong while he was around.

“Thanks, Ghost,” you murmured, your gaze meeting his. Though he didn’t say anything, the slight nod he gave you was enough to send a shiver of something warm and reassuring through you.

With Price’s nod, you all moved into the work with ease. Together, the five of you fell into a seamless rhythm. Price guided you through the intricacies of the engine assembly while Ghost tightened each bolt with practiced precision, his quiet demeanor masking an intense focus. Gaz worked diagnostics, occasionally chiming in with quips that kept everyone laughing, while Soap hovered around the edges, finishing up his paint job but constantly stealing glances at you, his smile never fading.

The line between work and something deeper began to blur as the hours slipped by. You noticed the small touches and shared glances—Soap’s shoulder brushing against yours more often than necessary, the way Gaz’s eyes lingered when he handed you a tool. Even Ghost seemed to hover closer, his usual distance replaced by a comforting protectiveness that made you feel secure.

And then there was Price. His eyes softened whenever he caught you laughing with the others, his gaze one of steady approval mixed with something else, something that made your pulse quicken. You’d felt close to him since day one, but tonight, it felt more real than ever.

By midnight, the engine purred to life, humming with perfect precision. You and Price stepped back to admire the work, and Soap threw his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close with a grin.

“Not too shabby for a newbie, eh?” he teased, squeezing your shoulder.

“More than not too shabby,” Gaz chimed in, his voice filled with approval. “That was a masterclass. I’d say you’re officially one of us now.”

Even Ghost seemed pleased, his usual stoic expression softening as he gave a rare nod. You caught a glimpse of pride in his eyes, his silent approval meaning more than you’d ever expected.

Price approached, his gaze steady and intent. “You’ve proven yourself,” he said softly, his voice carrying a warmth that sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “Welcome to the family, love.”

The word “family” hit you, settling deep in your chest. You’d had jobs before, but nothing like this. Nothing that made you feel this…connected. Standing there in the dim light of the garage, surrounded by Price’s quiet strength, Soap’s playful warmth, Gaz’s easy charm, and Ghost’s silent protectiveness, you felt like you’d found something you didn’t know you were missing.

After a moment, Soap broke the silence with a mischievous grin. “I’d say this calls for a celebration, yeah? My place, a couple rounds on me.”

Price raised an eyebrow, glancing at you with that soft smile again. “What do you say? You up for a night with these idiots?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, feeling the anticipation spark between you all. “Yeah, I think I am.”

A Few Hours Later

The five of you sat on Soap’s back patio, beers in hand as laughter echoed through the night. The camaraderie that had formed in the garage only deepened in the quiet intimacy of the darkened backyard. Soap had a warmth that kept you smiling, and Gaz’s easy charm drew you in, the two of them joking as if they’d known you forever.

Price stayed close, watching over the group with his usual quiet intensity, his gaze occasionally meeting yours in a way that made your heart race. And Ghost, though still silent, seemed more relaxed than you’d ever seen him, his usual guarded demeanor softened in the safe company of his teammates—and you.

The hours slipped by in a haze of laughter and stolen glances. By the time dawn approached, you felt more than a part of the team. You felt the warmth of a family, the thrill of something new and unknown blossoming with each smile, each touch, each whispered word.

And you knew, in the quiet light of the early morning, that whatever this was, you didn’t want it to end.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 10 months ago

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Come Home With Me (part 2)

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x reader

Warnings: fuff, smut!

part 1

You were a mess the whole week. You broke up with Andrew after the wedding not to reconcile with Carlos but because you didn't want to give him false hopes anymore. Because you knew you couldn't love him the way he deserved.

All your pain was back, pain that never really even left. All the emotions that you suppressed and pushed under the carpet, lying to yourself that you were over it, now resurfaced.

Not even a week later, the celebration of Isabella and her new husband did not stop. Only this time it was much smaller, in a small circle of close friends in their new apartment.

You were sad and listless, but since you didn't, you couldn’t, enjoy your friend's wedding celebration, you decided to respect her and come to another party she threw.

And he was there too.

It was all too much for you, you couldn't relax at all so you decided to let the alcohol do its best. And it did. Glass after glass and you soon became carefree. Your head was floating and your eyelids were getting heavy.

You never took alcohol well. When you were in good company, you always drank like everyone else, but you never knew the limit when you should stop. You would always feel too good and relaxed until it suddenly took you away. And so it often happened that you overdrink and get drunk, just like this time.

When you were together Carlos was always the one who took care of you when you drank. He was always overly protective of you, especially since you were 5 years younger than him. He never let you out of his sight and always made sure that no one approached you or looked at you in a way he didn't like.

“I think you’ve had enough.” Carlos said approaching you and taking the glass from your hand.

“I wouldn't agree with you.” You slurred reaching for it, but he took your hand turning you around and pressing your back against his chest. You leaned your head back against his chest as his arm rested around your waist. “You don’t get to hug me like this.” You mumbled drunkenly with your eyes half closed.

“Let me take you home, you’ll pass out if you keep up like this.” He said.

“I don't need you to drive me home, I can drive myself.” You stated confidently even though you probably couldn't even get to the car without someone else's help.

“There is absolutely no way I’m letting you drive like this.”

“Let me just find my keys. I’m sure they are here somewhere.”

While you searched unsuccessfully all over Isabella's apartment for your apartment keys, which were in your pants pocket, Carlos meanwhile went to inform your friend that he was driving you home and that he’s gonna take care of you.

“Vamos” He said coming back for you.

“Don’t you vamos me. I can vamos myself.” You talked nonsense trying your best to walk as straight as possible, but obviously struggling.

He couldn't help but laugh at you so as soon as you left the apartment and closed the door behind you, he lifted you up and took you in his arms which made you let out a scream and instinctively wrap your arms around his neck.

“Put me down!” You protested, but he ignored you enjoying the feeling of your skin against his. He wanted to kiss you, but he didn't want your first kiss after so long to be like this.

When he put you in the car on the passenger seat, you fell asleep as soon as your head hit the window beside you. He admired you for a minute taking your hand and intertwining your fingers together. He brought it up to his lips leaving a small soft kiss and continued to hold your hand the entire drive to your apartment.

You unconsciously squeezed his hand in your sleep, which brought a smile to his face. He knew that no matter how much you resisted, he would always have a soft spot in your heart.

After a 15 minute drive to your apartment, you finally arrived and you were still fast asleep. Only when Carlos took you in his arms again did you start to wake up.

“Carlos?” You murmured softly leaning your head more into him.

“Hm?” He asked walking with you to the door of the building.

“Please don’t leave” His heart trembled when he heard you say that. He wanted to tell you not to worry, that he will never leave you again if that's what you want, but he knew that there was no point in saying it now because you certainly wouldn't remember it in the morning.

“I won’t leave, baby, don’t worry” He soothed you.

Once you reached your apartment, he immediately took you to your bedroom and laid you down on the bed. You woke up enough to kick off your shoes and pull Carlos to sit on the bed next to you.

“Come here” You whispered putting your hands on his cheeks and pressing your lips against his. His hands found your waist pulling you closer to him. You were quick to straddle him as you sat in his lap and he hugged you tightly without breaking the kiss.

“I want you” You whined quietly into the kiss. “I want you to touch me, I want you to fuck me” He groaned at your words throwing his head back as you kissed his neck. The bulge in his pants grew uncontrollably as he felt you rub against him and roam your hands through his body.

“Baby, no..We can’t” He sighed taking your wrists into his hands and stopping you. He couldn’t believe he was rejecting you. You. He couldn’t believe it. He missed your touch immensely, and your body in every possible way, but he didn't want you to think tomorrow morning that he took advantage of you. He’d never have sex with you while he was sober and you were wasted.

“Please Carlos..It’s been so long since I came…”

“Oh fuck y/n..” Your confession knocked him off his feet. He squeezed your waist sighing. He leaned his forehead against yours stopping your movements and pressing you down on him just so he could get any kind of friction for a brief second because his cock was throbbing in his pants while he was listening to you.

“Don’t you want me?” You pout.

“Baby, I want you so much I think I would cum as soon as I put it inside you”

“Then put it inside me” He hisses and you moan kissing him again.

“No, we’re not doing it like this. Not while you’re drunk out of your mind” He stands his ground making you whine again.

“Carlos..please” You plead again, but there’s no way he would give in. You just mean too much to him.

“As soon as you sober up I’m gonna make you cum so many times you’ll forget your own name” He says turning you over and laying you down on the bed again. “Now get some sleep okay?”

You grumbled and frowned like a child. You didn't want to talk to him, and he didn't pay much attention to it because he knew that you would thank him for it tomorrow.

Not long after you fell asleep, Carlos laid down next to you and pulled you close. You leaned on his chest and he caressed you and left small kisses on your forehead until he himself fell asleep as well.

He could believe that it was happening again - you in his arms - because he always believed that the two of you would meet again, this time at the right time. He felt in his bones that you were meant for each other and there was no way he would ruin this chance with you. He was just hoping you’d feel the same way when you woke up.

When you opened your eyes in the morning, you were hungover, your head hurt and you couldn't wait to get in the shower and wash everything off. After you took a shower, you heard noises in the kitchen. By some miracle, you remembered everything from last night. You remembered that you wanted to drive alone and that Carlos stopped you and that you were forcing him to have sex with you and that he refused because you were drunk.

You knew he took care of you last night.

You wrapped a towel around your body and headed towards the kitchen where you met Carlos in an apron making breakfast. You leaned against the door frame watching him from a far and smiling at the scene before you.

“Carlos” You said after a while making him look up to the side at you.

“Mi amor..” He said quietly not sure how you would react. He stopped everything he was doing as you approached him and stood in front of him.

He was completely surprised when you wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your head on his chest. He thought he was dreaming. He hugged you tighter closing his eyes and kissing your head.

“Thank you” You whispered.

“For what, baby?”

“For staying last night” He smiled at you and leaned down to kiss you which you happily welcomed and kissed him back.

A gentle and slow kiss turned into a fast and passionate one in a matter of seconds. Before you knew it you were lying back in your bed as he was hovering over you pinning your hands above your head.

“I swear you were all I could think about all this time” He mumbled against your skin leaving a trail of kisses down your neck towards your stomach as he removed the towel off you.

Every part of your body craved him. You were dying for him to touch you and make you feel the way no one else ever could.

“Touch me, please” You whimpered and he obliged sliding his hand down to your wet crotch.

“Baby, you’re so wet already” He hissed proudly knowing that he’s the only one who can have you soaking wet within seconds.

“I missed you” You justified yourself by confirming the statement you confessed to him last night.

He slipped his fingers inside you and with the other hand he started rubbing your clit. He was pumping in and out of you teasingly slowly making you buck up your hips. “Does that feel good?” He asked.

“Yeah” You moan.

His lips quickly replace his fingers as he starts circling his tongue around your clit his hands now moved to your hips holding down to keep you from fidgeting as you cum all over his tongue.

“That’s it baby” He murmured licking off your juices that were dripping out of you. “You taste so sweet”

He hovers over you again putting his lips on yours pushing his tongue in for you to taste yourself, but you’re impatient to feel him inside you, all of him.

“You wanna take it?” He asks and you eagerly nod your head. He took his cock in his hand giving it a few strokes and grunting as he teased your clit with his tip. Feeling the warmth of your pussy he started leaking the precum before he aligned himself with your entrance.

“I’ll go slow baby, okay?” He leaned on his elbows over to you leaving a soothing kiss on your cheek. As he was trying to enter you he reminded you how big he was because you could never forget.

You winced whimpering as he pushed himself in and cooed you softly. “It’s okay, it’s okay” He was kissing you all over your face and neck staying still until you got used to the feeling of him.

Once he felt you calm down under him he asked “Can I move baby?”

“Please”

That’s all it took for him to start thrusting in you slowly at first and then faster and deeper. The way he was stretching you out hitting your deepest spot knocking the air out of your lungs it had you seeing stars.

“You’re doing so good, so so good” He praised you as you wrapped your legs around his torso and pushed him deeper inside you. You felt him getting closer as his movement started getting sloppier. “Baby I can’t hold back anymore, I’m gonna cum”

“Cum inside me” You whispered sending him over the edge. You reached your climax as well as you felt him twitch inside you and fill you in streams. Both of you rode out the waves of pleasure moaning and grasping on to each other. Once both of your breathing calmed down he pulled out of you and left little kisses all over your stomach making you blush.

“I love you Carlos” You whisper tangling your fingers in his hair.

“Mi niña” He smiled coming back up to face you. “I love you too. I’ll never let you slip out of my fingers ever again.”

“I’ll go home with you.”

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz x reader #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz smut #f1 scenario #f1 smut #f1 one shot #f1 blurb #f1 x reader #f1 fluff #f1 imagine #f1 x female reader

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vermiciousyidreborn · 4 months ago

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So people keep assuring me that Palestinians are also indigenous to the southern levant and...well, I admit I'm skeptical of this. Like, I'm NOT advocating expelling them or genocide, etc. Those are all bad, just questioning the notion of indigeneity here. Mostly as a consequentialist. If Palestinians are indigenous to the Levant, that seems to imply other things. Let's think through this.

We're going to set aside the UN notion of indigenous because that's crafted to exclude Jews and often enough this is a statement by people who reject that and consider Jews to be indigenous, they're often saying both groups are. So...I guess that means something like "A group is indigenous to the region where they underwent ethnogenesis" so we'll take that as our definition of indigeneity. Jews are indigenous to the Levant, check. We're good. Arabs are indigenous to Arabia. All makes sense.

So, anyway, what's an ethnic group? From Wikipedia:

An ethnicity or ethnic group is a group of people who identify with each other on the basis of perceived shared attributes that distinguish them from other groups. Those attributes can include a people of a common language, culture, common sets of ancestry, traditions, society, religion, history, or social treatment.[

Ok, so common language, culture, traditions, history, etc.

So European American Protestants are indigenous to North America? Common history (going back to the 1600s!), identify as a group, believe they have a common culture (even if we need to break things up more finely, you can find common cultures, say, New England, or Midwest, wee American Nations), common language (English, which I will posit is part of why there's basically a moral panic about Spanish and has been almost my entire life, in much of the country). Note that an ethnicity "can include" and doesn't need ALL of these things.

So it seems pretty solid that European American Protestants are, at the least, a collection of ethnic groups unique to North America. Which means they did ethnogenesis here. Which means they're indigenous now.

So...let's be clear, to me this is a reductio ad absurdam. OF COURSE white US protestants are not indigenous to North America! But I've yet to see definitions that mark Palestinian Arabs as indigenous to the Levant without also implying that white Americans are indigenous to fucking Ohio (along with the rest of the country).

Especially when you consider that white american protestant as an identity in this sense is older than a distinct Palestinian identity. It just brings us to the eternal questions that the Israeli/Palestinian conflict brings up and that people REALLY don't want to discuss:

When, if ever, does indigeneity expire? Personally, I think it doesn't, and Jews are and will always be indigenous to the Levant, just like the Cherokee Nation is indigenous to the US Southeast, even though they've been displaced. Though I know many "Pro-Palestine" activists implicitly believe indigeneity does expire, at least for Jews, but even if I weren't Jewish, I wouldn't want that precedent set because it would fuck over EVERYONE

When does a colonizer become indigenous to the place they colonized? This is rarely discussed, but lies implicitly behind a lot of things. Again, I want to avoid setting bad precedents, but I don't see how Palestinian Arabs can have hit this threshold and white people in the US haven't, which leads me to reject the idea that colonizers can ever become indigenous, at least while holding onto the identity that did the colonization (White and Arab, respectively, hell, White Christian and Arab Muslim if we want to get more specific).

Now, I don't believe colonizers need to be killed or expelled, I'm generally against violence outside of self-defense, but I do think that the rhetoric we use matters, and I want to interrogate it.

#jumblr #jewish #israel #i/p conflict #indigeneity #colonization #definitions #reductio argument #legitimately curious if theres a definition that threads this needle

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motorsportbarbie13 · 3 months ago

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Forbidden - Part 5

In which you can't stand to be away from Max any longer

Warnings: descriptions of a crash, swearing (maybe?) Pairing: Max Verstappen x LeClercSister!Reader Word Count: 2.5k words (tiny note from me: I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the lovely feedback and comments. It's truly reinforced my desire to publish the novel I wrote this summer so I've started working on my edits for that<3 you all are such lovely human beings.)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Master List

“FP2 is about to start, ma fille.” Your mother says gently, wiping her hands on the dish towel she was holding. “Do you want to watch?”

You look up from your computer, heart squeezing a bit at the thought of watching anything racing related right now. It’s race weekend in Zandvoort, the first race weekend back after summer break and also Max’s home race. You were supposed to be there for him and your brother this weekend but instead you were at home, in Monaco, with your mother.

You hadn’t gone to Croatia with your family, much to your mother’s dismay. She had tried to talk some sense in you, despite Charles’ protests. She had been absolutely livid with her son when she found out what he had done, how he had broken up something that was making you so happy. But in the end, Charles had won and you had skipped the entire thing, opting for a few weeks spent in London with a some college friends instead.

You had been miserable the entire time.

Meanwhile, in Belgium and then Italy, Max had spent the break equally as miserable. The thought of losing you before you had even really gotten started just ripped him further in pieces. He had respected your wishes though, staying away despite every bone in his body screaming at him to show up at your door and not leave until you realized you two were the real thing. No, he couldn’t do that. If he had learned anything about you in the months that you had been together, even just in secret, it was that you were stubborn and wouldn’t budge on something that you felt strongly about. He had seen that look in your eye the afternoon he walked out of your apartment. He knew he had to be patient and wait for you to come to him, otherwise he risked losing you forever.

Seeing him on the TV earlier this morning before the first practice session of his home race had sent your heart racing. You missed him so badly. More than you had thought possible. You could tell he was just as miserable as you were just by looking at him. Dark circles cast shadows under his eyes and he looked exhausted, not well rested like the rest of the drivers coming off a four week break.

It broke your heart.

But every time you thought about going to him, something that skittered through your mind, your brother’s words echoed in your head. You weren’t strong enough. You weren’t good enough. You couldn’t handle it. Max was using you to get back at Charles. Those thoughts flew through your brain at such a speed that the idea of going to him was out of the question. You simply didn’t feel brave enough.

“You’re going to put it on even if I say no, maman.” You say with a sad smile.

“Oui, bien sur.” Yes, of course. She replies with a smile, patting you on the shoulder as she passes by to pick up the remote control, switching on her F1TV app on her TV.

Your mother knew everything that happened, having gotten both sides from both of her babies. She had tried to remain impartial but at the end of the story, she had wanted to strangle Charles. He was being a stubborn idiot, everyone knew it but no one could seem to get through to him. She had never seen you so heartsick before, noting that every time Max was shown on TV earlier during the first practice stint that you perked up a bit, paying more attention to what the commentators said when he was discussed. She knew, just like Max did, that you wouldn’t be moved on this until you were ready though, so she kept her opinions to herself, determined to support you in whatever way you needed.

Your mother really was a saint among women.

Will Buxton’s face popped up when the coverage started and you sat, pretending to work on your laptop as you waited for the cameras to show Max. You didn’t care about Charlie, not at all. You weren’t sure how you were ever going to forgive your brother after all he said that afternoon, but currently, you weren’t interested in discussing anything with him.

“Max seemed to have a good session earlier.” Your mother comments, trying to gently open the door to talk about the man you were so clearly head over heels with.

You hum in response, quietly watching the coverage. On the screen, the cars are all on the track now. Max seemed to be struggling this session though, despite the smooth start he had earlier. The back of the car kept kicking out on the corners, and the speed just wasn’t there.

“I’m fighting this thing every step of the fucking way, GP.” He growls over the radio. The sound of his voice in distress sends cold shivers down your spine.

“Okay, we’ll figure it out. Give it a few more laps to sort itself out and then come back in, yeah?”

“Sure, why the fuck not.” He snaps.

You give your mother a look, eyebrows raised. He doesn’t usually get this snippy with GP this early in the weekend unless something was really off with the car.

“Oh this isn’t going to be good.” You mumble, closing your laptop so you can focus on the TV.

“And just like that, all the progress that Red Bull made in FP1 is erased. Max seems to really be struggling out there this afternoon.” Will Buxton says as Max slides around a corner.

“Come in next lap, Max and we’ll get this figured out.” It’s Christian on the radio this time and you know it’s bad. Christian only comes on the radio when GP has had it with the driver and needs someone else to reign him in.

But Max doesn’t get the chance to get into the pits. As he dives into the next corner on the track, his back end kicks out yet again but this time Max isn’t able to save it. His front tire hits the grass on the inside of the turn, causing him to lose all grip and control over the car, sending the car careening off into the fences on the opposite side of the track. The navy Red Bull car slams into the safety barrier at such an intense speed, you hear yourself scream before you can get your emotions under control.

You and your mother are on your feet, hands cupped over your mouths as you wait, breathless, to hear that he’s okay. It’s not a messy crash, only bits of the front wing are scattered about the track, but it was the speed at which Max went into the wall that concerns you.

“Maman.” You whisper, voice cracking in panic. “Oh, maman, he has to be okay.” Panic sings through your blood, desperate to hear his voice over the radio. Heart hammering in your chest, you take several steps closer to the TV, as if getting closer to it will provide you with a better view.

Next to you, your mother puts a calming hand on your shoulder, giving you a squeeze. You both have seen nasty crashes before, it’s something that you almost expect every weekend but when they do happen, it’s still a shock to the system. You can’t bare anything happening to Max before you’ve had a chance to reconcile.

Tears spring to your eyes thinking about the last time you spoke to him, how you pushed him away when he so desperately wanted to be there for you. How he had stayed when even your own brother had abandoned you, bruised ego being more important than his own sister.

“Max, you okay?” GP’s voice rings out over the radio.

“Ye-yeah, I’m okay.” Max grunts.

A wave of relief washes over you, a welcome cool splash that calms some of your panic. You stumble back towards the couch, collapsing on the cream cushions, chest heaving as the adrenaline seeps from your body. “Oh my God.” You whimper.

“He’s okay, ma fille. He’s okay.” Your mother murmurs into your ear, sitting down next to you, wrapping you in a gentle hug.

“I need to go see him.” The words are out of your mouth before you even have a chance to consider what you’re saying.

*********************************************************************

Six Hours Later

Max couldn’t recall the last time he had a worse start to a weekend than this. He knew why, of course. It wasn’t the car, even though the car was absolute shit but he’s usually able to overcome a shit car and perform better than the rest of the field anyway. That’s why he’s Max Verstappen. No, the weekend started off so poorly because he had been so distracted. He’s never gotten into the car this distracted and distraught before and it cost him this afternoon during the second free practice. He had binned the car straight into the wall because the only thing he’s been able to think about for the past three weeks is you.

His entire body hurts as he gets out of the car that evening. He had tried to stay with the mechanics and engineers while they put the car that he wrecked back together. They were going to take a grid penalty for working on the car after curfew, so his weekend was fucked either way. But as the clock approached 11pm, Christian had finally pulled rank and sent him back to the hotel to get some rest.

It was simply the last place he wanted to be though. A quiet hotel room with nothing else to do but think about what had happened today and how fucked he was if he couldn’t get his shit together before Sunday? No thank you. He wanted nothing to do with that. He had considered telling the driver to take him to whatever the closest bar to the track was but he knew Horner would have an absolute conniption if he did that. So instead, he decided to behave and had let the driver take him back to the hotel.

Thankfully, there aren’t any fans waiting as the driver pulls up to the front doors of the hotel. It’s late and most everyone is already back in their hotel for the night, resting up for the last practice and qualifying tomorrow. Max is thankful for that, so he doesn’t have to see anyone. The lobby to the hotel is quiet as well, only the night concierge and front desk clerk on duty.

His steps are soft as he shuffles across the white and gold marble floor towards the elevators. To his left, there is a group of chairs and couches gathered for people to sit on while they wait and he’s surprised to see that there’s someone there, settled in a couch facing away from him. As he gets closer though, the hair that tumbles down around the woman’s shoulders sends a squeeze of pain shooting through his chest. It’s the color of your hair. Fuck, Max, get your shit together, he chides himself as he walks past the figure.

And then, time stands still for a moment. The person sitting on the couch turns and Max swears he’s completely lost his mind. He’s now conjuring up images of you out of thin air.

Or his he?

Your heart hammers in your chest when you hear the foot steps sound across the marble floor. You hadn’t really thought of anything beyond getting on the jet and getting to the Netherlands as quick as you could so when you landed, you were somewhat panicked that you didn’t have a plan. A quick call to Lando Norris of all people had solved that problem quite quickly. He had told you exactly where Max was staying but that he was still at the track so there was time to surprise him.

“Maxie.” You sob, tears pouring down your face at the look of utter confusion and bewilderment sitting on Max’s face.

“Liefje?”

You nod furiously as Max finally snaps into action, closing the distance between the two of you with just a few strides. He’s captured you up in his arms, crushing you to his body in a fierce hug, before you’re able to say anything else.

Home, your body sighs.

For the first time in weeks, you feel settled, the quiet sense of belonging etching itself deep in your bones the moment you find yourself in his arms.

“Did you really come back to me, liefje?” Max’s voice is strained, raspy with emotion. “Are you really here right now?”

You nod vigorously against his neck, burying your head there as you draw in a deep breath. He even smells like home. “I could never leave you, Maxie.” You can’t stop the tears, they just keep falling. “I saw you go into the wall earlier and the first thing that crossed my mind was ‘I never told him I loved him too.’”

Max nearly loses his grip on you he’s so beside himself. For several long seconds, Max just stands there, clutching you to his chest. He knows he should probably put you down, that your emotional reunion is causing a scene but he can’t quite convince his arms to let go. Almost as if he’s afraid that you’ll disappear again if he lets you go.

Max does lower you to the ground after managing to convince himself that you are really here and you won’t disappear but he doesn’t take his hands off of you. One hand goes to your waist, the other frames your face as he stares down at you. “Ho-How did you get here so fast?”

“Maman called up the pilot that Charlie uses and he happened to be in Nice. Lando told me where you were staying and I took an Uber here. I didn’t know what room you were in though, so I had to wait.”

“I hope you haven’t been waiting long.” Max takes your hand, leading you towards the bank of elevators. He had one thing on his mind: he needed you alone and he needed to touch every fucking inch of you to convince himself that you were real.

“I’d wait forever for you, Maxie.” You sigh, stumbling into his arms as the elevator doors ding close.

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#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #formula 1 fanfic

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