#i spent around 3 hours on this and i'm not sorry

[psychoticfemmm]

Late Night Cravings

You were deep in sleep, warm and tucked under the sheets, when you felt movement beside you. At first, it was subtle—just the shifting of weight, the dip of the mattress as Rafe adjusted himself. But then came the soft press of lips against your skin, trailing down your stomach, followed by a teasing, cocky whisper.

“Don’t freak out, baby. Just need a little taste.”

You barely had time to register what he meant before—well, let’s just say sleep was no longer an option.

Forty-five minutes later and more than a few protests that turned into moans, Rafe finally collapsed beside you with a content sigh, pulling you into his arms like he hadn’t just spent nearly an hour worshipping you. He was still catching his breath, fingers lazily tracing shapes on your hip as he grinned to himself.

You, on the other hand, were still in shock. “Rafe.”

“Mmm?” He sounded way too pleased with himself.

“What the hell was that?”

He turned his head, pressing slow, deliberate kisses along your jawline, then nuzzled into your neck. “That, my love, was me proving why you should never doubt how obsessed I am with you.*

You scoffed, tilting your head to look at him. “Obsessed?”

“Hopelessly.” His lips curved against your skin, arms tightening around you. “I mean, come on, I just woke up to make you feel good. Do I get a boyfriend of the year award or what?”

You rolled your eyes. “More like menace of the year. Who wakes someone up like that?”

Rafe pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his blue eyes filled with amusement. “A very dedicated man. A boyfriend who loves his girl so much that he just couldn’t help himself.” He grinned. “And, judging by how you were squirming, you weren’t exactly complaining.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks, and you smacked his arm. “Shut up.”

“Make me.” He smirked, leaning in for another kiss, but you turned your head at the last second, making him huff dramatically. “Oh, so you’re gonna be mean to me now? After I spent all that time—”

“Rafe.” You cut him off with a deadpan look.

He chuckled, tucking you closer against his chest, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Fine, fine. But don’t act so shocked, baby. You should know by now—I’m crazy about you.”

You exhaled, finally relaxing into him, feeling his steady heartbeat against your cheek. “Yeah, yeah.”

He grinned. “Admit it, you love it.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue. Because, well… maybe he had a point.

And Rafe? He knew it too.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

sorry if this was bad I'm not really a smut writer but I hope you like it <3

[itsfheang]

CHAPTER 3 OUT NOW!

[ CH. 1 ][ CH.2 ]

[ PLAYLIST ] [ AO3 Link ] <- NOW ON AO3！

RATING : Mature (Eventually)

TAGS : Jayce x Viktor / Post Arcane / Fantasy AU / Mage!Viktor / Knight!Jayce / 7k words / Part 3 of ??

CHAPTER DESCRIPTION : Jayce and Viktor head to Zaun to try to locate Rio. Viktor begins to tap into his new abilities. After a breakthrough they decide to check out a possible source of information about magic at the academy.

AUTHOR NOTES : While I do know a good deal of League of Legends lore, I do not claim to be an expert and for the sake of the story I am taking some creative liberties with characters that were not present in arcane. Rio in this universe is a naturally mutated Pixiemander rather than mutated by Singed.

CHARACTERS : Jayce x Viktor (Arcane), Gwen (League of Legends), Ezreal (League of Legends, Mentions of other Arcane cast,

CHAPTER 3

Viktor’s eyes flutter open, and for a moment, he isn’t sure what time it is. The once-roaring fire has long since died down to a quiet, comforting glow, and despite the chill that night often brings, he finds himself pleasantly warm. As he slowly regains awareness, he realizes that he and Jayce have both fallen asleep on the couch. Jayce is propped against the armrest, nestled into one of the plush throw pillows, while Viktor’s head rests against Jayce’s chest, one arm draped loosely over him. Jayce, with one arm wrapped protectively around Viktor, has the other hanging lazily off the couch.

For all the comfort Viktor feels in this intimate closeness, he knows that staying like this much longer isn’t a good idea. They’ll both feel miserable if they stay on the couch. Gently, so as not to startle him, Viktor nudges Jayce.

In response, Jayce stirs, and soft as a sigh, he murmurs Viktor’s name. That unexpected sound sends a thrill through Viktor. For an instant, he wonders: was Jayce dreaming of him? No—not after everything he’s done. No matter what he feels, Jayce could never… could he? Perhaps it was simply the result of the countless hours spent together, especially recently. Whatever the reason, that quiet utterance still makes Viktor melt.

With tender care, Viktor reaches up and gently cups Jayce’s cheek, committing the serene expression on his face to memory. Softly, he speaks his name, coaxing Jayce further towards wakefulness. This time, his words work; Jayce’s eyes flutter open, returning to him in a haze of groggy consciousness.

“V?” Jayce asks, still half asleep, his voice raspy with sleep and warmth.

“Jayce,” Viktor replies softly, “we fell asleep on the couch. We should retire to our beds—we have a busy day tomorrow.”

Jayce grumbles in protest, pulling Viktor even closer. A small, involuntary squeak escapes Viktor, eliciting a half-asleep chuckle from Jayce. 

“Come on, golden boy,” Viktor chides playfully, a teasing lilt in his tone as he disentangles himself just enough to stand. “Let’s get you to bed.” 

Viktor reaches out to help Jayce up, the larger man still wobbling from the effects of the wine. With a grin, Viktor jokes, “You’re such a lightweight, aren’t you?” Jayce grumbles good-naturedly, but as he stands, he unexpectedly pulls Viktor into a warm, lingering embrace.

In that quiet moment, Jayce mumbles sleepily, “I’m so happy to have my partner back.” Viktor attributes the tender words to the wine, but the sincerity in Jayce’s tone remains. Carefully, Viktor leads him down the hall to his room. Once there, he plops Jayce unceremoniously onto the bed.

With a soft sigh, Viktor helps Jayce remove his overcoat and boots before settling him into the covers. As Viktor turns to head out to his own room, Jayce catches his hand. He looks up with an almost pleading gaze, eyes shimmering in the dim light.

"I'm sorry, V. I'm so sorry. For everything." 

Viktor stares in confusion for a moment before his expression softens. He sits on the edge of the bed next to Jayce, his own weariness mingling with concern. Even in his tipsy, half-asleep state, Jayce’s words cut deep.

“It’s okay,” Viktor reassures softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from Jayce’s face. “I forgive you.” In that instant, he realizes that he never truly held it against him at all.

Jayce’s eyes glisten as he takes Viktor’s hand in his own. “I thought I lost you,” he whispers.

Viktor smiles gently, his thumb caressing the back of Jayce’s hand. “I’m right here, Jayce. I’m not going anywhere.” His free hand begins to run slowly through Jayce’s hair, the gesture soothing and calming. Gradually, the tension in Jayce’s eyes eases, and his breathing deepens as sleep begins to reclaim him.

Once Viktor is sure that Jayce has slipped into a peaceful slumber, he carefully blows out the oil lantern, plunging the room into a soft, comforting darkness. With a final glance at his sleeping partner, Viktor makes his way to his own bed. 

Jayce wakes to a dull headache and the soft light of morning filtering through his window. He lies still for a moment, confused—he doesn’t remember how he ended up in his own bed. Throwing back the covers, he discovers he’s still dressed in his clothing from the previous day. He groans under his breath, cursing his own foolishness for ordering a second bottle of wine, but the brief memory of Viktor’s flushed smiling face over dinner quickly makes him take the thought back.

Determined to start fresh, Jayce quickly changes into something more practical—a simple drawstring tunic and matching pants. There’s no need for frills when he’s about to trek through the dark, rugged caves of Zaun.

Stomaching his lingering hangover, he heads out to the kitchen, where he finds Viktor already up. Seated at the table by the window, Viktor is casually immersed in one of his well-worn history books, a steaming mug of tea cradled in his hands.

Noticing Jayce’s entrance, Viktor glances up with a teasing smile. “Ah, finally among the living?” he remarks.

Jayce groans and rubs his temples, managing a wry smile despite the pounding in his head. “I don’t know how you manage to avoid headaches from wine,” he mutters.

Viktor chuckles and pours another mug of tea, sliding it over to Jayce. “Here. Maybe this will help clear your head.”

Jayce accepts the mug with a grateful nod and takes a seat beside Viktor. The steam from the tea mingles with the cool morning air as he takes a tentative sip. After a moment’s silence, he ventures, “So, what’s the plan to find Rio?”

Viktor’s eyes light up as he slides the book between them so Jayce can see. The pages are open to a detailed map of Piltover and Zaun, annotated in faded ink. Running a finger along the map, Viktor points to a specific location. “This is where Singed had his lab—at least, it was when I was growing up. Rio used to live in those caves,” he explains. Then, his finger shifts to another area marked nearby. “And this…” he continues, tapping another point on the map, “is where the Guardian Sea flows into those caves. My guess is that Rio is somewhere within this area.”

Jayce leans in, studying the map intently. Though still battling his headache, he feels a surge of determination. Their journey to Zaun suddenly seems deeply personal for Viktor, and thus for himself.

“Then that’s where we start,” Jayce concludes, setting his mug down with newfound resolve. “We can pick up bait on the way, I know just the shop with the best produce.”

Viktor nods, his expression a mixture of hope and steely resolve. “If she is there, I believe we’ll find her. And if we do, maybe we can figure a way to help get her home. She deserves to be back in the open sea.”

By mid-morning, the duo has gathered what they hope will be suitable treats to lure Rio out of her potential hiding place. Viktor, ever meticulous, had even drawn a larger version of the map from earlier.

Jayce signals for a carriage, and soon they find themselves riding toward the street nearest to where Viktor remembers the caves being. The carriage clatters along uneven cobblestone as Viktor pores over his map, while Jayce watches the passing landscape until they finally reach their destination. The climb down the steep cliffs makes Jayce nervous—not for himself, but for Viktor. Yet, the man whose body has been healed in ways beyond mere repair handles the descent with little issue, his agile movements belying the trials he’s endured.

Once on solid ground, Jayce scans the area as Viktor consults the map once more. “The entrance should be just this way, if my memories serve me correctly,” Viktor murmurs, his finger tracing the route along the jagged contours of the cliffs.

Following Viktor’s lead, they approach a narrow gap in the rocks. Viktor squeezes into the opening with ease, while Jayce, with his broad shoulders, is forced to go sideways, nearly getting stuck. The tunnel winds its way for some distance before opening into a cavern where gaps in the ceiling allow natural light to filter in.

“This was it,” Viktor says softly, his voice a mix of nostalgia and resolve as he surveys the empty cavern. “This is where I met Singed.”

He takes in every detail—the smooth walls, the echo of their footsteps—and yet finds no sign of Singed or his twisted experiments. Nor is there any sign of Rio. Undeterred, they spend the rest of the morning trekking through the surrounding caves, strategically leaving behind the tasty treats they’ve gathered in hopes of enticing Rio from her hiding place.

By the time afternoon arrives, they pause for a break. They settle on a rocky ledge inside the main cavern, sharing a modest lunch of seasoned jerky and cheese they had picked up on their way to Zaun. Jayce passes a canteen to Viktor, who takes a long swig before returning it with a nod and a quiet thanks.

Breaking the comfortable silence, Jayce asks softly, “Do you think she may not have ended up here?” His tone is careful, as if he fears that even a hint of doubt might shatter Viktor’s rekindled hope.

Viktor ponders for a moment, his eyes fixed on the tunnels, where the shadows of the cave dance with the late afternoon light. “It is possible,” he admits, his voice tinged with wistfulness. “So many things are different here, yet so many things are the same. I had truly hoped she would be here. I would love nothing more than to see her one more time.”

Jayce reaches out, placing a reassuring hand on Viktor’s shoulder. “I’m sure wherever she is, she’s thriving,” he says firmly. His words, gentle yet resolute, bring a small, grateful smile to Viktor’s face.

Their conversation is abruptly interrupted by the sound of rocks clattering into shallow water. Jayce’s eyes snap toward Viktor, and in an instant, their gazes shift in unison to the direction of the noise. Neither of them moves—both frozen by caution. Jayce can feel a mix of adrenaline and worry pulsing through him; in these winding caves, many creatures lurk in the shadows, and not all are friendly.

The clattering noise continues, growing steadily louder, as if something large is making its way down the tunnel toward them. Instinctively, Jayce shifts slightly in front of Viktor, his body tensing in a protective stance. Just then, he feels Viktor’s hand grip his arm lightly.

From the inky darkness of the tunnel, a pair of eyes reflect the faint light, and slowly, the pale white-pink face of a waverider emerges from the shadows, its expression curious. For a split second, Jayce’s breath catches as he feels Viktor’s grip tighten further. He turns to find Viktor nearly in tears, a look of overwhelming wonder on his face—the most genuine smile he has ever seen etched there.

“—It’s her…” Viktor whispers in reverence.

Without wasting a moment, Jayce digs into his pack and retrieves a ripe piece of fruit. With careful deliberation, he begins to roll the fruit slowly along the rough ground toward the creature. For a heartbeat, the waverider recoils, and Jayce’s heart leaps—he fears she might run. But then, almost imperceptibly at first, she creeps closer to the offering, her large, dark eyes fixed unblinkingly on them.

“Rio,” Viktor murmurs, his voice soft and awed. Rio snatches up the fruit with her tendril-like tongues, then backs away a step before lingering, her gaze never leaving theirs.

Emboldened, Jayce rolls another fruit toward her. This time, Rio moves closer without hesitation, quickly snatching the treat and pausing to survey them. With each passing moment, she inches nearer, her nostrils flaring as she inhales their scent, as if confirming the promise of more treats still in their possession.

This time, Jayce hands a fruit directly to Viktor. With a gentle smile, Viktor accepts it and, instead of rolling it away, holds it out in his hand—the same manner he once did as a child. Rio watches him for a long, silent moment before cautiously approaching. When she is close enough, she reaches out with her delicate tongues and takes the fruit from his palm.

At that moment, Viktor lets out a happy sob, followed by a childlike giggle, as if the weight of all his burdens has momentarily lifted. The cavern seems to brighten, filled with a lightness that is almost palpable.

Jayce’s eyes widen in astonishment as he notices something even more extraordinary. Loose pebbles and small rocks have begun to levitate gently off the ground, swirling in soft eddies of magic. He turns back to Viktor, gasping, “Viktor… your hair…”

Viktor, still laughing softly as Rio nuzzles him and playfully bumps him in search of another piece of fruit, is oblivious to the change until Jayce’s voice breaks through his mirth. Slowly, Viktor reaches up and looks at his hair—once brunette and blonde—now glowing with a brilliant white, tinged with faint pastel hues. The transformation is unmistakable, as if the magic has been awakened within him, drawn forth by the pure, unfiltered joy that he is exuding.

Viktor holds out another piece of fruit, and Rio, ever eager, accepts it with a soft murmur of contentment. Viktor scratches her gently on the head, and his smile deepens, warm and genuine.

Jayce watches on in awe, his heart swelling with both wonder and a bittersweet pang of realization. In all their time together—through every experiment, every trial, every moment of triumph—he had never seen Viktor this happy.

As the last of the fruit is consumed, Rio senses the dwindling offerings and, with a graceful retreat, slips back into the depths of the cave. Over her shoulder, she casts one final, lingering glance—a farewell. Gradually, the magic that had animated the moment begins to dissipate, and Viktor’s hair returns to its natural hue, the brilliant glow fading into the familiar dark strands.

For a long, silent moment, both men sit together in the cavern’s gentle twilight, reluctant to let the magic of that encounter end. Finally, Jayce breaks the silence, his voice soft and reassuring.

“We’ll visit her as much as you want,” he says, his eyes locked on Viktor’s.

Viktor wipes at his eyes, nodding slowly. “I’d like that,” he replies, his tone heavy with hope.

They gather the remains of their scattered supplies and set off back toward civilization. The journey back is marked by a peaceful silence, each lost in thought about the day’s unexpected wonders. Along the way, they make a brief stop so Jayce can purchase supplies for dinner—a small but comforting routine that reminds them both of the normalcy they’re striving to reclaim.

Back at home, Jayce sets about preparing the meal with a practiced ease, while Viktor settles at the table. Over the clink of utensils and the low murmur of conversation, their discussion turns to the marvels of the day.

“So, it would seem my abilities in this world are tied to emotion,” Viktor muses, running his fingers over the subtle swirls of gold and purple that trace beneath his skin.

Jayce leans forward, eyes alight with curiosity. “Do you think you could recreate it? Like, on demand?”

Viktor pauses, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “Do you remember my theory about wild runes, Jayce?” he asks.

“Of course,” Jayce replies, his tone eager yet measured. 

“It’s possible that magic here is a lot like those wild runes—ancient, unpredictable.” Viktor continues, “It would explain why it feels older. More untamed. It’s like magic before it had a language.”

Viktor closes his eyes and places his palm toward the now-empty glass in front of him. At first, nothing happens. Then, slowly, a subtle transformation unfolds: his hair begins to glow once more, and the mug gently lifts off the table, suspended for a heartbeat before it drops back down with a soft thud. As quickly as it began, the magic fades, and his hair returns to normal.

Jayce lets out an excited laugh, genuine wonder in his eyes. “Viktor, that was amazing! How did you manage that?”

Viktor smiles softly at the praise, “I just thought about how I felt when I saw Rio,” he confesses. “That raw, unfiltered joy, that sense of wonder. I believe that with more trial and error, there may be many great things I can do with this new power.”

Jayce watches Viktor for a long moment, clearly lost in thought. The genuine happiness on Viktor’s face, the childlike wonder in his eyes—each detail fills Jayce with a silent, heartfelt vow. He silently swears to himself that he’ll do everything he can to make Viktor that happy as often as possible.

As dinner winds down, Viktor once again insists on helping clean up, a quiet testament to his desire to contribute, even now. After tidying up the dishes and clearing the table, Viktor’s attention turns back to his newfound magic. He shuffles the coffee table aside, revealing a makeshift stage in the middle of the living room. In front of him, he arranges a collection of random objects gathered from around Jayce’s house—an empty vase, a few books, a candlestick—and places them neatly on the floor.

Jayce settles himself on the couch nearby, a fresh notebook in hand, ready to record every observation and insight Viktor might dictate. The room fills with a focused silence as Viktor begins his practice. Concentrating, he manages to levitate one object, then another, and soon he’s controlling three separate objects at once. The air around him shimmers with the subtle, untamed energy of magic. Though the display leaves him visibly exhausted, the progress is undeniable.

As the early evening light slowly fades into the soft hues of sunset, Jayce moves to the hearth to coax the fire back to life while Viktor, spent from his exertions, collapses back onto the couch. In the quiet aftermath, Viktor speaks up, his voice tentative but hopeful. “Do you think there are experts on magic at the Academy? Someone we might speak with without raising too many eyebrows?”

Jayce hums thoughtfully, carefully poking the fire until it crackles warmly. “I did read an article about a professor—a sort of archaeologist who specializes in ancient Runeterra and magical artifacts. I can’t recall his name offhand, but he might be able to shed some light on all of this.”

Viktor nods slowly, his eyes lingering on the fading light. “Could we go tomorrow?” he asks quietly.

Jayce reaches over and hands Viktor the book he had been reading, snagging one for himself, before joining him on the couch “Of course. Whatever you think might help you.” 

Viktor accepts the book with a grateful smile. With that, the two settle side by side on the couch. This time, Viktor doesn’t hesitate as he scoots closer, comfortably accepting the warmth that Jayce provides.

They spend the next hour in quiet companionship, each absorbed in their reading until Viktor finds himself succumbing to yawns. Jayce, noticing the weariness in his partner’s eyes, insists gently that they should go to bed. And so, under the soft glow of the rekindled fire and the embrace of night, they close their books. 

The next morning, a rasping knock at the door interrupts their breakfast conversation. Jayce opens the door to find a young delivery boy standing there struggling under the weight of a large package.

“Delivery for Mr. Talis from Ms. Hallow!” the boy announces proudly, his eyes shining with excitement.

Jayce accepts the package with a smile, silently marveling at how the lad managed to get this far without tumbling over. He quickly signs the small book the boy carries, then reaches into his pocket and hands him a few coins in thanks. The boy flashes a toothy grin and, after a cheerful “Thank you, sir!” dashes off to his next delivery.

Closing the door with a chuckle, Jayce turns back to Viktor. “Looks like Gwen got the first batch of your outfits done,” he says, setting the package on the table beside Viktor.

Viktor rises with a mix of anticipation and curiosity. Carefully, he opens the package to reveal an impressive variety of clothing in the perfect palette he’d hoped for. Rich hues of navy, charcoal, deep maroon, and subtle accents of gold and emerald are arranged neatly inside. His eyes scan over each piece—a blend of elegant, structured pieces and more casual, everyday attire.

Raising an eyebrow, Viktor asks, “I thought she said the more detailed outfits would take a week?”

Jayce grins and shrugs lightly. “Oh, trust me, this is just the basics. Just wait till you see what she does by week’s end.”

Clearly impressed by Gwen’s skill as a tailor, Viktor muses silently. If these were her ideas of casual and everyday wear, he could only imagine what masterpieces she’d create next.

Jayce, ever the pragmatic one, continues, “Feel free to use whatever space you need in the closet or dresser—they’ve both been unused for far too long. But I’d recommend picking out the best one for today. It’ll be easier to get the information we need if we look important.”

Viktor hums in agreement. “You’re probably right,” he replies before disappearing into his room to change.

Jayce resumes his breakfast, casually perusing the morning paper. A few minutes later, the door creaks open once more as Viktor reemerges, this time fully dressed in an outfit that demands attention. Clad in a brilliant deep maroon twin-tailed coat, Viktor’s new attire boasts gold embroidery detailing the cuffs, lapels, and even the ends of each tail. The coat, sharply tailored and resplendent, contrasts strikingly with the black high-collar shirt he’s chosen to wear underneath. With a sheepish grin, Viktor tugs at the collar as if to perfect the ensemble.

“It would seem Gwen found a way to get your colors into my wardrobe,” Viktor chuckles, clearly amused by the unexpected twist.

Jayce nearly drops his toast as he takes in the sight of Viktor. For a moment, his eyes widen in both surprise and admiration before he manages to regain his composure. “That she did,” he manages, voice tinged with laughter. “Remind me to send her a thank you gift.”

Once breakfast was done, Jayce excused himself to get ready for the day. He returned shortly later in his own stunning outfit—a classic ensemble of white, red, and gold that complemented Viktor’s darker attire perfectly. Together, they looked every bit the part of important men. 

The carriage ride to the academy was pleasantly uneventful. As they traveled, Viktor glanced down at his now-gloved hands—a smart suggestion by Jayce to avoid drawing undue attention. He hoped that the professor they were hoping to meet could shed some light on his abilities or at least point them in a direction that might help. At the moment, Viktor was confined to practicing within the walls of Jayce’s home. The fact that his hair glowed whenever he used his magic made discretion an ongoing challenge.

As the carriage gradually slowed, Viktor craned his neck to peer out the window. Before him loomed the academy—a building that, while different from the extravagant arched windows and glass ceilings of the academy he once knew, was still massively impressive. Towering stone spires, gracefully sloping roofs, and even a marble statue of Heimerdinger greeted their eyes.

Viktor was snapped back to the present when Jayce opened the carriage door for him. Viktor steps out, noting it's only a short walk to the main hall of the building. With Jayce leading the way, Viktor wandered in awe, his eyes tracing the exquisite craftsmanship of the architecture.

Near the entrance stood a reception desk. Jayce approached the young woman behind it and inquired about directions to the archaeology department. The woman beamed and provided clear instructions, and Jayce called for Viktor to follow.

Once they were in a quieter corridor, Viktor lowered his voice. “Did you figure out the name of the professor?” he whispered, as if speaking too loudly might disturb the venerable halls.

“No, but I can’t imagine there are that many archaeology professors,” Jayce mused, his tone thoughtful.

Thankfully, Jayce’s hunch proved correct. In this academy there were only three archaeology professors. Two were female, leaving the third—who also happened to be the head of the department—as the sole male representative. They soon reached a door adorned with a small plaque that read, “Professor Lymere – Head of Archaeology.”

Jayce knocked lightly on the door. Moments later, a series of sounds echoed from within—something tumbling and crashing to the floor. Concerned that someone might be hurt, Jayce pushed the door open and stepped in. There, sprawled on the floor with several display cases knocked over, lay a young man with unruly blonde hair.

“Are—are you okay?” Jayce asked, kneeling to help the young man to his feet.

“Yeah, never better,” the young man replied with a sheepish smile, quickly glancing at the overturned display cases. “I just didn’t expect anyone to be around. Ah man, Uncle’s going to be furious with me.”

“Your uncle is Professor Lymere?” Viktor inquired, taking in the young man’s appearance. He was slightly taller than Viktor, slim but with defined muscles, his bright blonde locks were short and choppy. His disheveled appearance was marred only by the faint marks under his eyes—pale blue triangles curving along each cheek.

“Yeah,” the young man confirmed as he gingerly picked up one of the fallen display cases. “Old man’s out on business. Sorry, if you were here to meet with him. Not sure when he’s coming back.”

As Viktor knelt to retrieve a fallen gauntlet from the debris, he examined it carefully. The gauntlet appeared Shuriman in design—gold with elaborate motifs—and embedded in its back was—

“Jayce…” Viktor gasped, holding the glove up for him to see.

“Is that—” Jayce began, his voice laced with curiosity.

“A hex crystal,” Viktor finished, awe in his tone.

“Hex crystal?” The young man looked between them, his expression a mix of confusion and intrigue. “That’s a Shuriman crystal. My uncle always believed it once powered old artifacts like this, but they’ve long since been inert.” He gestured toward the other display cases filled with similar relics. “All this stuff is basically just shiny trinkets without a powered crystal.”

Viktor held up the gauntlet again, scrutinizing the crystal nestled in it. It resembled the raw hex crystals they had first used to create hextech, though clearly far older given its integration into the artifact.

“Do you know much about your uncle’s work?” Viktor asked, looking up at the young man.

He shrugged nonchalantly. “I probably know more than him—I’m the explorer of the family, while he prefers his books.”

Viktor shot Jayce a glance and a shrug that said, Guess he’s better than nothing, to which Jayce responded by turning to the young man. “So what’s your name, kid?”

“The name’s Ezreal,” the young man replied.

“Well, Ezreal, I’m Jayce, and this is Viktor,” Jayce introduced warmly. “Maybe you can help us.”

“Hmph,” Ezreal drawled, eyeing them with a blend of arrogance and amusement. “Help with what? As you might imagine, I’m a very busy and important individual.”

“Magic,” Jayce replied matter-of-factly, his tone leaving no room for misinterpretation.

For a moment, Ezreal’s eyes betrayed his practiced nonchalance—lighting up ever so briefly at the word. “Okay,” he shrugged, “I might be able to help with that. What exactly are you looking into magic for?”

Viktor, who had been silently studying the gauntlet and its embedded crystal, reached toward it with one hand. As his fingertip neared the gem, a slight spark—like a stray static discharge—jumped from the inert crystal to his finger, catching him off guard. His curiosity, however, was piqued.

“That,” Jayce said, gesturing toward Viktor, “is precisely why we're interested in magic. We were hoping your uncle might have some insight for us, but since he’s not here, you are now our best chance.”

Ezreal’s gaze shifted to Viktor, his voice catching as he stuttered, “You… have magic?”

Lost in his own examination of the crystal, Viktor barely registered the question. Once more, he reached out, this time making full contact. The crystal sparked and sputtered, then suddenly burst into a bright flare of light. In an instant, all three men shielded their eyes. When the dazzling radiance finally subsided, the gauntlet lay where it had fallen, though the crystal now pulsed with a faint blue glow.

“Jayce,” Viktor said, his eyes never leaving the gauntlet, “I think I may have made a breakthrough with my abilities.”

Jayce exchanged a look between Viktor and the glowing crystal before Ezreal moved forward to pick it up. He studied it intently, then looked back at Viktor in awe. “Did… did you just charge the crystal?”

“Honestly, I do not know what I did,” Viktor replied with a casual shrug, though his tone belied a mix of wonder and uncertainty. “This is all new to me. It is precisely why we were seeking your uncle’s expertise.”

Before anyone could protest, Ezreal had already slid the gauntlet onto his arm. “Uh, is that really a good idea, kid?” Jayce interjected, a note of concern threading his words.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Ezreal quipped back, flexing his fingers experimentally. Then, in a flash of light, he vanished—only to reappear about ten feet away on the opposite side of the room. He caught himself mid-reaction, eyes wide in shock, and quickly pulled the gauntlet off.

“Okay, maybe we’ll save experimenting with it for later,” he gasped, regaining his composure as the adrenaline faded.

Viktor studied Ezreal carefully, noticing something unexpected: the faint glow of the triangle markings beneath Ezreal’s eyes—similar to the ethereal marks that Viktor himself bore along his arms and legs. A quiet thought took root. Was this young man also meant to be touched by the arcane, his potential lying dormant until awakened?

Ezreal sat the gauntlet on his uncle’s desk, turning back to Jayce and Viktor. “Help me clean this up, and I’ll tell you everything I can, especially if it will help me figure out that.” He points to the glove. 

Jayce nods, “Deal.” 

Between the three of them, they carefully set about restoring order to the room, reassembling the overturned displays. Viktor moves with cautious precision, deliberately avoiding any object that bears an inert crystal. The way the light catches on these crystalline fragments sends a shiver through him—each piece a silent reminder of past ambitions and hidden costs.

Ezreal, meanwhile, drifts toward a large, ornate bookshelf nestled behind his uncle’s desk. After a brief search, his fingers finally settle on an oversized tome, its leather cover embossed with faded symbols. With deliberate gentleness, he pulls the heavy volume from the shelf and lays it softly on the desk.

He flips through its pages, the sound of parchment and whispered secrets filling the quiet space. Eventually, he pauses on a particularly striking page and slides the open book over to Viktor and Jayce. The page is dominated by an artist’s rendering of a massive stone scorpion, its form both majestic and ominous.

“That,” Ezreal says, his finger tracing the outline of the creature, “is a Brackern. Ancient earth shapers native to Shurima, now almost entirely lost to legend. No one has seen one in thousands of years. My uncle and I discovered ruins in Shurima that hint at a connection between these crystals and the Brackern—a means of preserving their souls.”

Viktor’s eyes narrow as he studies the detailed illustration, his mind racing. “You mean these crystals contain a soul?” he asks softly, each word laced with both wonder and a dawning horror.

Ezreal nods gravely. “In theory, yes. But it’s not always just a single soul. Some of these crystals could potentially contain an entire generation of Brackern souls. We never managed to confirm it, since the crystals appeared powerless—until now.” He gestures subtly toward a delicate gauntlet resting on the desk, one that now seems to hum with latent energy.

A heavy silence falls over the group as guilt and realization weigh on Viktor. Had their hex crystals been the same as these ancient Brackern crystals? Had they unknowingly drained the souls of these majestic earth shapers to fuel their ambitions? He glances over at Jayce, whose face mirrors the same troubled contemplation.

“And what do these creatures have to do with magic?” Jayce finally asks, his voice low as if fearing the answer might shatter what little hope they still have.

Ezreal leans in, emphasizing the weathered pages of the tome. “This book is full of stories—myths and legends—about a world once brimming with magic. Yet, when you look around us now, magic is scarce, hidden away like a forgotten language. The few gifted individuals we know of are living proof that magic still exists. So, where did it all go? What caused it to vanish?” His eyes gleam with both curiosity and the burden of ancient secrets.

The question hangs in the air, a challenge and a lament all at once. Viktor runs a hand through his hair, his mind a maelstrom of conflicting emotions. The room feels charged with possibilities, the weight of centuries of forgotten lore pressing down upon them. 

“Viktor, you restored power to that crystal.” Ezreal continues. “If your magic has the ability to awaken the inert magic within it, maybe you are the key to restoring magic to the world.” 

Viktor’s eyes widened at Ezreal’s words, a chill of recognition coursing through him. In that moment, it felt as though his own history was repeating itself—he had once tried to bring magic to the magicless, and it nearly cost them everything. Now, he was forced to confront the same possibility here. The thought overwhelmed him: What would be the cost of resurrecting magic in this world? Was it even worth it? Was magic truly that important? His breathing quickened, and soon, he felt himself beginning to hyperventilate.

With a trembling voice, Viktor excused himself, fleeing from the group and into the quiet hall. Leaning against the cool stone wall, he closed his eyes and tried desperately to calm the storm raging inside him.

A few moments later, Jayce appeared, his expression etched with concern as he gently closed the door to the professor’s office behind him. “V… are you okay?” he asked softly, his voice a soothing murmur in the silence.

Viktor’s words came in shaky gasps. “I—I don’t know if I can do this again, Jayce. Not after what happened in our world. Not after I almost destroyed everything.” His admission was raw, each syllable punctuated by a desperate gulp of air.

Without a word, Jayce made a gentle hushing sound and pulled Viktor into a warm, protective embrace. In that moment, Viktor instinctively wrapped his arms around Jayce, clinging to the steadfast warmth that seemed to ease his racing heart.

“It’s okay, Viktor,” Jayce murmured, his voice soft yet resolute. “I won’t let that happen again. We don’t even know if Ezreal is right about all of this.” His hand moved in slow, soothing strokes along Viktor’s back, as if trying to erase the pain with each careful caress. “It’s just a theory… nothing concrete yet.”

“But you saw what I did to that crystal,” Viktor countered, his voice thick with emotion and lingering fear.

Jayce’s tone softened further as he replied, “That doesn’t prove anything, V. Maybe the crystals feed off magic; we simply don’t know enough to draw any conclusions yet.” Gently, Jayce pulled back just enough to cup Viktor’s cheek with one hand, his eyes locking with Viktor’s. “It’s okay, Viktor. Let’s hear him out, and I promise you, I won’t let the mistakes of the past repeat themselves.”

Viktor looked up at Jayce, as if seeking reassurance in the depths of his eyes. Despite the earnest words and unwavering dedication that Jayce offered, a persistent thought gnawed at him—that he did not deserve such support.

“Okay,” he sighs, leaning into Jayce’s hand, “I’ll hear him out.”

Jayce nods gently, and together they return to Ezreal, who’s been patiently waiting with the tome open before him. As they approach, Jayce offers a quiet apology, “Sorry about that. You were saying?”

Ezreal’s gaze lingers on Viktor for a heartbeat before he flips to another page in the book. “If you want answers,” he begins, his voice low with the weight of ancient lore, “your best bet would be to find the missing Isle of Ixtal. Legend has it that the last Brackern resides there, and hid the island away—a land where magic still thrives in its purest form.”

Jayce arches an eyebrow. “Why do you sound less than hopeful about that?”

Ezreal lets out a long, weary sigh. “Because no one knows where Ixtal is, and most who go hunting for it never return.” Running a hand through his hair, he adds with a wry smile, “Even I, Piltover’s greatest explorer, wouldn’t dare go searching for it.”

Jayce glances at Viktor, who is still processing the gravity of Ezreal’s words. “I mean, it’s a lead, but the fact that it’s never been found is pretty ominous.”

Viktor taps a thoughtful finger on the table. “Maybe we need to make a trip to Shurima?” he suggests slowly. “Ezreal, do you have any contacts out there by chance?”

Ezreal’s eyes light up as he pauses, his expression shifting from uncertainty to mischievous excitement. “Actually…I do.” A wide grin breaks across his face. “And she has magic too.”

[maestroofcringe]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, RIZZLER!!!❤️❤️❤️Redraw of my first work of Eddie in digital

No effects version.

[wyvernity]

wip posting just to get something out there, and it's def a mixed bag!! the only thing more inconsistent than my posting schedule is my art style RIP

[neil-gaiman]

I'm sorry Neil, although I love your writing and agree with your opinions on most subjects I have to disagree with you on the writers' strike. No-one should have a more privileged life as a result of being clever and creative. I worked from the age of 15 to the age of 65 in low-paid jobs, taking 1 year off to go to drama school and 3 years off to get a fine art degree. I worked in terrible but necessary jobs, labouring, stacking boxes, unloading trucks, running errands, filing, going to work on a bicycle at all hours of the day and night on shift work in all kinds of weather. Even when I was a student I was still working in part-time cleani8ng jobs and even during periods of unemployment I worked in volunteer jobs for charities and social services.

According to Mensa I have an IQ of 160 and according to Plymouth University I have a BA hons in Fine Art but I cannot accept the idea that writers and other creative people should avoid normal jobs like driving an "Uber" or working in an office/shop/factory/construction site. To accept that idea would be to create a new aristocratic class when we should abolishing the old princes and aristocrats.

What we need, I feel sure, is a redistribution of labour so that everybody who can do so would spend some time each year in blue collar work and everybody who can would get higher education and a chance to make art of one sort or another.

The idea of doing other jobs to supplement writing or drawing shouldn't be seen as a terrible thing, a punishment or a suffering. Sharing the jobs around should be seen as normal.

I mean, I've done my half century of sweat labour and it didn't hurt me too much. I'm retired now and still making art of various kinds and I've never asked anyone to pay me for any art piece I've made. making art, writing, drawing etc. is the fun stuff which we get to do in exchange for the blue collar stuff which puts food on the table.

The worst pop song ever written was Sting/Dire Straits song "Money for Nothing" which ridicules the working class from a position of educational privilege.

So what's my question? My question is: What's wrong with a writer doing other jobs to make ends meet? Sounds perfectly fine to me.

Nothing's wrong with a writer doing other jobs to make ends meet. Writers and artists have been doing that since the dawn of time. Actors too.

But by the same token, there's nothing right about assuming that writing isn't a blue-collar job, or that writers and other people who make art can only make it for love and that thus they need other jobs to subsidise their craft.

I like living in a world in which the people who make the things that make the world worth living in get paid for their work. For me, that includes the people who make films and TV, books, art and music and comics.

Having spent a lot of time on film and TV sets, it's a blue-collar world on set, and everyone is working long and hard to make the shows you love. I'm never going to suggest that the riggers or the gaffers or the make-up team or the focus-pullers should drive ubers in order to have the privilege of being on the set and working there.

Or to put it another way, from the most blue-collar writer I ever knew...

[sturniqlo]

PRETTY GIRL- MATT STURN

summary: where matt slides into singer!y/ns dms not knowing she would respond back, and it leads into something more.

cw: cursing, FLUFF; sweet messages, first meeting, honeymoon stage, kissing, ANGST(very little); second thoughts on relationship(?), past relationship issues, insecurity of not being good enough, social media hate

an: i just love fics where reader is a famous singer :) | very fast paced timeline | as usual, not proofread

masterlist | join my taglist

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

"said you're not in my time zone, but you wanna be."- bed chem, s.c

-

-

matthew.sturniolo 12:47am

hi, you're like really pretty :)

Matt exits out of the dm and scrolls on tiktok for the remainder of the night. He shuts off his phone completely forgetting about the message he had sent to Y/n. There was no way she would respond. Y/n was a famous singer with millions of more followers than him. He had been following her for sometime now, as he had discovered a song- many songs- he really likes from her. Matt also saw his big of a fan Nick was, which introduced him to his favorite songs.

Y/n was currently in New York finding some inspiration from her upcoming album. Usually she resides in LA but she loves being in New York while she writes. It's more homey to her, it was fall after all, her favorite season, the leaves were turning orange and falling off of their branches, landing on sidewalks all over the city, the weather was chillier, she loved it. Back in LA it was many degrees hotter, she couldn't wear her cute cardigans without sweating.

The next morning, Matt woke up to a loud commotion coming from the kitchen which was very close to his room. Groggily he came out of his room and saw his brothers arguing. "I hid the last bagel for a reason because I was going to fucking eat it this morning." Nick angrily crumples up the empty bag the bagel was in. "How was I supposed to know?" Chris argues back, taking a bite of the bagel.

"Do you guys mind? I was sleeping peacefully and I got woken up to you two arguing over a fucking bagel." Matt scoffs. He goes back into his room and shuts the door. He rolls his eyes and walks over to his bed where his phone is laying. As it turns on, he sees a instagram notification. Unlocking it with his face id, he sees Y/n replied to his message. "Holy-" He cuts himself off.

y/n/y/l/n 2:47pm

thank you! you're cute yourself ;)

sorry for the late response it was 3 am when you dmed me haha!

Matt stared at the message opened message with his mouth slightly open. you're cute yourself? He was about to faint. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard thinking about what he was going to say next.

matthew.sturniolo 11:49am

holy shit you actually responded... also thank you :))

sounds like you're three hours ahead of me??

y/n/y/l/n 2:50pm

hahaha

i believe so. i'm currently in new york, i'm assuming you're in the west coast? la possibly?

She responded quickly and Matt's heartbeat only got quicker.

Y/n had spent her morning bright and early. She woke up at around seven am and did her morning which consisted of her morning shower, skincare routine. She ate a bowl of strawberries and blueberries while she answered some emails. About an hour after sending emails and responding to important messages she went out for breakfast.

At her favorite cafe, she ordered her usual bagel and iced coffee and sat down by the window. She ate her breakfast and stared out the window watching people walk by going about their morning. A few fans spotted her as she was leaving so she took some pictures with them. "Excuse me, Y/n?" A soft shy voice said as she exited the bagel shop. She looked back and saw two teenage girls nervously smiling.

"Hey, guys!" She gasped, letting her wired headphones hang. "Hi, we- we uh. Sorry I'm so nervous." Y/n smiled. "Don't be nervous. I promise you it's okay." She giggled and walked closed to them. "Okay, thank you." The one girl sighed in relief. The three of them made a ten minute long conversation. "We're so sorry for taking your time!" One of them gasps realizing how long they've been talking for. "Don't worry about it, it's okay."

Y/n returned to her apartment at around twelve and cleaned up a bit. She'd been in New York for about two weeks now. She took a quick shower and chilled on her phone for a bit. Here and there she liked to go through her instagram dms and respond to some fans. As she was scrolling through, she saw that Matt has dmed her. Y/n has known about the triplets for sometime now, she has watched a couple of their youtube video. And to be honest, Matt had caught her eye those couple of times.

She blushed, she opened the dm and read the message fully. It was sent about eleven hours ago. She responded anyways and she was bold enough to send a second message. Exiting out quickly and scrolled and responded back to some fans who just wanted to say hi or wanted some advice.

Two minutes later, a notification from Matt appeared at the top of her screen. She smiled and opened it right away responding quickly, Matt responded seconds later.

matthew.sturniolo

i am

also, new york? i bet it's beautiful out there now that it's fall time

y/n/y/l/n

it's really is! have you ever been out here?

matthew.sturniolo

yeah, a couple of times actually!

are you there permanently?

y/n/y/l/n

nope, just here to get some writing done :))

matthew.sturniolo

new music im assuming?

y/n/y/l/n

can't say tooo much but yess

Over the few weeks, the two messaged each other everyday and eventually exchanged numbers. As much as Matt wanted to tell his brothers. He wanted to keep his 'relationship' with her hidden for a while and be in this little bubble. Matt really enjoyed messaging her and talking with her on the phone that he asked her if she would be up to the idea of talking romantically and see where it would lead them to. Obviously she said yes.

Y/n had never felt like this, Matt was amazing to say the least and she hasn't even met him. Every morning when she would wake up, a good morning message from Matt would be waiting for her. He'd send her little messages throughout the day when he wasn't filming and he calls her when he knows she's about to go to bed. Yeah, she's had her boyfriends here and there but they were nothing like Matt.

Her past relationships were so public from the beginning to the end they almost felt forced. Anytime they would go out there was always a new article and new pictures about it. There were rumors, allegations, and opinions. And she never dated the best people.

matt

hi pretty girl :)

y/n

hi pretty boyyy

matt

are you busy?

y/n

for you? neverrr

matt

okay, i'm calling you now!

Before Y/n could even type out a response her phone rang in her hands with Matt's contact filling her screen. She immediately answered. "Hi Matt." She put him on speaker. "Hi, pretty lady. How's the writing going?" He asks her. "It's.. going. I can't really think of anything right now, so I'm taking a break." Y/n brings her knees up to her chest and scoots her writing book away from her.

"Anyways, what have you been up to?" She says, pressing the facetime button. He answers it right away. "Nothing much, me and my brothers just finished filming a video." He brings his face into view. "Sounds fun, what'd you guys film?" She smiles. "Just a car video talking about random things."

They talked more for some time until someone interrupted Matt's rant by barging into his room. "And then- do you not know how to knock?" He scolded whoever came in. "Who are you talking to?" She heard Nicks voice. "Don't worry about it, what do you want." Matt huffs. Y/n noticed how he tilts his phone away from Nicks view. "Can you take me to-" Matt cuts him off.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll take you. Shoo now." He motions his hand for Nick to leave so he can keep talking to Y/n. A small giggle leaves Y/n and Matt looks at her through the phone and she gasps. Nick must've heard her because he also gasps. "Matt! Are you talking to a girl?" His phone is suddenly snatched from his grip.

Nick looks at the screen and Y/n is with wide eyes and a slight open mouth due to her being shocked of what's happening. Y/n knew that Matt wanted to keep this to himself, as well as her. "Oh.. my god." Nick said and quickly gave the phone back to Matt when he saw who it was. Y/n heard Matt's door close and started laughing, so did Matt. "Holy fuck."

"I'm going to let you go, I need to deal with Nick. I'll call you later." He smiled and waved at her. "Okay, let me know how it goes." She waved back.

"Nick?" Matt walks out of his room. "You, as in Matthew Sturniolo, my triplet brother, are talking to the Y/n. As in the famous singer. Fucking Grammy award winning Y/n!" Nick yelled with his eyes wide open. Y/n was probably- no, is- Nicks favorite artist. He couldn't belive it. "Yes, Nick. Is that so hard to believe?" Matt giggles. "Motherfucker yes! How did you of all people bag her?!" "I'm offended?" Matt furrowed his eyebrows.

Matt goes to tell Nick how everything had happened. "Oh my god, I can't believe this!" Nick yelled into his hands. "What's going on?" Chris comes up his set of stairs. "You'll never believe it!" Nick says. Matt- actually Nick- catches Chris up with everything he missed. "Matt, I've never realized how much game you have."

After everyone - Nick- calmed down, they decided to sit and watch a show.

y/n

i'm assuming everything went well?

matt

yes, nick had a moment of starstruckness i guess, but it went well in general

y/n

omgg, he is so me

will he be okay with me following him?"

matt

pls do, i would kill to see his reaction

y/n

okok

Y/n giggled as she went to her instagram and searched up Nicks username and followed him. Across the country, Matt was secretly recording Nick who was unintentionally scrolling on instagram. "No fucking way! She- she just followed me." Nick flipped his phone to Matt. "She just followed me too!" Chris jumped up from his spot on the couch.

matt

*video attachment*

chris was a plus

y/n

hahaha

one month later

"Alright, we have this shirt with these jeans or," Y/n holds up a potential outfit and shows Matt over facetime. "Ok, I like that one." He nods. "There's also this dress." She holds up the material. "That's the one. I like that one." Matt points and she giggles. "Okay." She leaves the frame and comes back in once she's changed into her outfit.

"It's four over in LA right? I still get a bit confused over timezones." She says as she applies her eyeliner. "Yeah, and it's seven for you, correct?" Matt watches intently as she does he makeup. "Mhm, I have to leave in like forty minutes." Tonight she was going to an album release party for her friend, Conan.

"I would love to be in your timezone. Makes it easier to talk to you." Y/n smiles at an idea that popped up in her head. "Would you -I don't know- maybe want to fly out here? I- you don't have to, but it's just an idea." She rambles a bit. "I'd love to actually. But, I'd have to talk to my brothers first, not that I need their approval or anything, just I'm not sure if they'd want to come." He says.

"You could bring them too. It'd be fun either way." She says. As much as Matt loves traveling with his brothers, he'd appreciate it if this trip was just about the two of them. It's be their first meeting after all. "I hope this plans out well, I really want to meet you, officially."

"I'm tryin' to go to New York." Matt blurts out randomly. He had finished his call with Y/n about two hours ago and all he thought about was possibly getting to meet Y/n and spend sometime with her. "Matt flying across the country for a girl? Who would've thought." Chris says. "Shut up." Matt rolls his eyes. "Do you guys want to go? Or?" He says.

Both Nick and Chris looks at each other and shake their head. As much as Nick wanted to go and possibly meet Y/n, he wanted Matt to have his moment. "Nah, we'll let you enjoy your time with her." Nick says and Matt dramatically sighs in relief. "Thank god! I didn't want to take you guys anyways." Nick gasped. "You know what, i'm second thought." Matt shook his head. "Nope, you made up your mind."

matt

guess who's going to new york :D

y/n

no wayy?!? i'm so excited!!!

liked by sabrinacarpenter, clairo, matthew.sturniolo, jennaortega, nicolassturniolo and 825,733 others

y/n/y/l/n: i am new york, new york is me

view all 9,372 comments

jennaortega: y/n in new york>>>

| y/n/y/l/n: you get it 🙂‍↕️

y/nfan57: it's y/n's season

y/nfan19: matt liked...

| loser4: okay? so did nick?

sadiesink_: you're so cool

matthew.sturniolo: you

| y/n/y/l/n: me

two weeks later

"I'm by the taxi pickup." Y/n said on the phone to Matt who was somewhere inside the airport. "Is there a sign or something?" Matt was having a hard time looking for the right place. "Uhm... oh yeah, there's a bright green sign that says taxi only. It's pretty big so you can't really miss it." She let out a breathy laugh. "I see it, and I see you." Y/n turned, but still couldn't see him. "Other way, pretty girl." She turned the opposite way and saw him.

"Matt!" She squealed, and ran to him as he dragged his suitcase behind with a huge smile on his face. "Y/n!" He let go of his suitcase and she jumped in his arms. "Oh my god! I can't believe you're actually here!" She whispered into his neck. "I can't believe it either." He says and she pulls away from his neck at looks at him. "You're even prettier in person." She blushes. "Stop it! I could say the same thing about you." She places her feet back on the ground. "How was your flight?" She asks. "It was good, except for the guy snoring next to me."

They arrived at Matt's hotel, and he settled in before going out for lunch together. "Okay, my favorite spot to get lunch is here." She says and Matt opens the door for her. "Thank you, Matt." Matt smiles. For the three- almost four hours they've been together, it all felt natural, as if they've known each other for years.

"What do you usually get?" He puts his arm around her shoulders and she smiles at the action. "I usually get the chicken wrap and a mango lemonade." She looks up at him. "I'll get the same." He nods and kisses her forehead. See, natural.

"What do you think?" Y/n covers her mouth as she speaks through a mouthful of her wrap. "It's very good, you weren't lying." Matt says as he goes in for another bite.

For the rest of the day, they walked around the city hand in hand, Matt pointing out at certain billboards in time square.

Later that night, they returned to Matt's hotel where Y/n said goodnight and went home. But, not without a kiss. A first kiss. "I hope you had fun today." She says as she walks towards the door. "Trust me I did. Thank you for today." He says, following behind her. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow, Matt." Y/n smiles. "For sure." He unhesitatingly grabs her jaw and plants his lips on hers with a gentle kiss.

The room was soon filled with the soft smacking sounds of their lips intertwining with each others. Soon enough her arms ended up wrapped around his neck, with her back against the door and Matt's arms holding her hips. A couple of moments later, they both pulled back gasping for air. "Wow, I- mmph!" Matt was cut off by Y/n putting her lips back on his.

"Okay, I should- I should go now." Y/n pulls away and giggles. Both of them out of breath and their lips red and swollen. "Okay, I'll see you tomorrow."

The next day, the two of them went out for breakfast and were especially giddy the whole day, sharing kisses, holding hands and small touches. "So, this one is- Matt?" Y/n stops herself. "Yeah, yup. Mhm." He says. "You weren't paying attention were you?" He breaks out in a laugh and shakes his head. "Sorry, but you're just really fucking pretty." Her cheeks redden up by the compliment.

"Matt!" He grabs her chin and kisses her. "Okay, I'll listen this time, for real."

It was now eight pm and Matt's hand was wrapped around her shoulders as usual. As they walked in a comfortable silence, Y/n heard a series of whispers behind them. Her first reaction was to look back, and as she did she saw a flash of a phone.

"Oh my god." Y/n mutters under her breath. "C'mon Matt, let's go." She grabs onto his arm and leads him to the opposite way of the stranger. Matt had noticed the person taking the picture as he also turned his head a little bit after Y/n did and saw how her mood had changed.

"Hey, you okay? You've been pretty quiet." Y/n stands in front of Matt once they've entered her apartment, moving bits of his hair that covers his eyes. "Mhm." He hums. "Matt, you can talk to me. Is it what happened with the person who took the picture?" Matt looked away from her. She had gotten it right. "Matt," She sighs, pouting slightly. "I- are you having second thoughts about this? I just- I don't know." He says. "Hey, no, of course not! It's just- I really like this little bubble we're in right now, with no unwanted opinions." She pauses before continuing on.

"And I know I shouldn't care about what people say about us or anything, but it gets to me sometimes. With my past relationships I feel like the media got involved so much that it ruined them, and- and I don't want that to happen with us. I really like you" She interlocks their hands together. "I really like you too." He gives her a soft smile before pulling her in for a kiss. "Are you okay now? Did I clear something's up." He nods. "Yes, thank you for letting me know. I really appreciate it."

Y/n was right, the internet does have a lot of opinions. After Matt had left Y/n's apartment, even though she had told him to stay, Matt did it nightly call to his brothers before going to bed. When he had woken up in the morning, he went on social media and saw tiktok about the picture and another picture that they didn't know of and and there were many negative comments about his and Y/n's relationship. Specifically about him.

y/nsoulmate: broo... how is she going to go from dating a famous singer/actor to a youtuber💀

soulmatey/n: she should get someone better

ilivefory/n: dare i say it, but she downgraded

slutniolo: why is he dating her? isn't she on her tenth relationship?

y/nismygf: y/n, matt, if you're seeing this just know twitter is rooting and happy for you guys! tiktok police is annoying!!!!!

y/nismommy: he isn't it for her 🤷

prettyy/n: he could never treat her like danny did.. oop

ang3ly/n: y/n, baby, leave b4 u can, he's just going to use u🥴

everythingy/n: not a youtuber

y/nsgirl: why is everyone being so negative? this isn't your guys' relationship to judge or comment on. get a job, get a life!

Although the last comment made him chuckles a bit, the other comments hurt him. Were they right? Yeah, he wasn't on her level of famousness, but was it such a big deal? His phone suddenly rang in his hold as he was too deep in his thoughts. It was a call from Nick. He answered. "Good morning sunshine!" Nick said. "Why are you up so early? Isn't it six am over there?" Matt says. "I haven't slept actually. It's kind of worrying me." Nick laughed as he got comfy on his bed.

"I saw the pictures. How're you guys feeling about it?" Great, something he didn't want to think about right now. "I don't know? She wasn't the happiest when she caught that one person taking a picture, but she gave me her reasons and it was understandable. I didn't realize it at first, but she was totally right. The internet can be harsh, holy shit." Nick furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean?" Matt sighed and got up to sit against his headboard.

"I saw a video and the comments were a bunch of people saying that she shouldn't be with me because i'm not on her level of success, I guess, and that she also downgraded. I mean, what if they're right? What if I'm not good enough for her?" Nick felt bad, he hated that the internet was making Matt have second thoughts about his developing relationship. "Don't listen to them Matt, they're just a bunch of losers. And, you are more than enough for her. I was called her earlier today, yesterday I guess, and she was so excited to tell me what she had planned for you two. She's in deep and so are you, I can see it. There's no way you can back out now." Nick reassured him.

As Matt got ready, he thought of what Nick had said. She's in deep and so are you, I can see it. There's no way you can back out now. He was right, he is in deep. Matt knew Y/n was going back to LA a week after he was. They'd have all the time in the world to hang out. However, he wanted to be hers.

He was going to ask her today.

"Hi, pretty girl." He kissed forehead once she let him in. "Hi, how was your morning." She closed and locked the door behind him. "It was good, how about yours." They walked into her bedroom so she could continue getting ready for the day. "I had an early morning." She sighs. "I had a last minute meeting, luckily it was short and over zoom." She wraps her arms around Matt. "Hi." Y/n whispers. "Hi." He giggles and she leans up to kiss him.

"Okay- shit!" Matt stumbles a bit to the side with the bike. It was a couple of hours later and Y/n and Matt decided to rent bikes and bike around the city for a bit before heading to their planned picnic Y/n really liked to go to. "Why is it so heavy?" He says, trying to put the bike up straight. "They're so heavy for no reason, the amount of times I've fallen to the side with it is ridiculous." She starts to peddle slowly, waiting for Matt to catch up. A folded blanket is held by the basket that is on the bike.

"Are you sure you can ride the bike and carry the picnic basket at the same time?" She asks him. "I'm sure, just can't go too fast or I'll bust my shit." They rode around for thirty minutes sight seeing before heading to the park. "This looks like a nice spot." Matt pointed out an empty spot near a tree. "Okay, I'll lay out the blanket." Y/n unfolded the blanket and carefully placed it down on the grass.

"So, you're going to be in LA a week after I go back, right?" Matt says as he sips on his water bottle Y/n had packed. "Mhm, the twenty fifth. We'll finally be in the same place permanently. I'd love to hangout more with you." She smiles at him. "About that, I actually had a question for you." He caps his water and places it down next to him, moving his body to face her. "Oh, okay."

"Can I be yours, pretty girl? Officially yours." She gasps lightly and breaks into a huge smile. "You were always mine, pretty boy."

[thinkinonsense]

I KNEW YOU IN ANOTHER LIFEᰔ

dp&w!logan howlett x past wife!reader

cw: mostly angst, some fluff, sorta mean logan, cussing.

wc: 800+

a/n: this is inspired by a one-shot I read a while back but I cannot remember who wrote it. If anyone knows, please please please let me know in the comments so I can give them credit <3 update!!! this is it!!

｡ ₊°༺❤︎༻°₊ ｡

The last person you thought you would find here in the void is Logan. There has never been a Wolverine in here. You almost didn't believe it when you found out; needing to see him for yourself. And here he was. Right in front of you, the Logan you grieved all those years ago. The one who stole your heart.

Your Logan.

"And who the fuck are you?" He barked, pushing you away from him.

Those words broke your heart the second they left his lips.

Wade smacks Logan, informing him of your past together. Logan looked like he didn't believe Wade at first. You were way too beautiful for any version of him, Logan thought. What would someone like you want with a man like him?

Tears well up in your eyes as you leave, not wanting it to sting anymore. Laura follows you, glaring at the man who looked like her father. Logan didn't seem to care about the new information, instead reaching for another one of Gambit's bottles.

"I'm sorry, mom," Laura whispers, wrapping her arms around you.

"It's okay, sweetie. I'm not sure what I expected to happen." You sniffle. "He just looks so much like him."

"I know."

Suddenly, Laura stood up and stomped out the door to confront the man who upset her mother. She found Logan sitting outside alone by the fire.

"Look kid, I'm not the man you and your mother think I am." Logan sighs, not even bothering to turn around to check if it's Laura.

"You made her cry," Laura hissed, ignoring his previous comment. Logan looked up at the young girl almost apologetically before shaking his head. "Her Logan would have never made her cry."

Logan felt a sharpness in his stomach at the news. Deep down, he wondered if you two were together at some point. He doubted it though because you looked out of his league. If a past version of him managed to marry you then maybe he did some good during his time.

"If you two haven't noticed, I'm the worst Logan apparently."

"You don't have to be."

ᰔ

It's late when you finally stumble out of bed, not able to sleep. Hours of tossing and turning, trying to get Logan out of your mind. This felt like a cruel joke on your poor heart. You know it's unfair to have him pretend to be your Logan but you desperately wanted it to be him.

All of your memories together haunt your mind like a graveyard. Sweet Sundays spent wrapped in sheets. How he kissed your face every morning, had you wear his dog tags, and ride on the back of his motorcycle. You would give anything to get just one of those moments back.

"What are you doin' awake?"

The voice behind you caused you to jump slightly. A hand coming to rest on your back. You turn around, face-to-face with Logan.

"Can't sleep." You shrugged, opening the freezer to pull out a container of strawberry ice cream.

"That shit won't help you sleep." He grunts, sitting at the table. You ignore his grumpiness and continue scooping the ice cream into a bowl.

"Can we talk?" Logan didn't look you in the eyes as he spoke. Too ashamed of his actions earlier.

"I suppose so." You shrugged, pulling the spoon from between your lips.

"Were we really married?"

You answer by pulling the chain around your neck for him to see. A small diamond ring dangled next to the dog tags he gave you. The moment he saw it, he felt like the biggest asshole who ever lived.

"How many years?" The words stung in his throat.

"Five."

"What was our life like?"

"Perfect." You smile softly down at your bowl. "At least it was to me."

"You did a good job with raising her." He muttered, referring to Laura.

"You would have to."

He's silent for a second, trying to wrap his mind around the idea of being a husband and a father. He wished he knew what it was like to be cared for as much as you cared for your Logan.

"You know, you have the same look in your eyes," Your voice was so quiet, stepping closer to him until you were in front of him.

Logan could see the desperation on your face as you stared at his lips. It would be wrong for him to toy with your widowed heart, but he wanted to be the man you needed. The man you deserved.

"I'm not him, sweetheart," He said, attempting to stop you before you hurt yourself. "And I don't want you to get hurt-"

"Please," You beg, eyes filling up with tears. "I don't care who you are. I just don't want it to hurt anymore."

You were slowly killing him. How could he say no to you? Even if he was the worst Logan, he has a heart. Which is why he lets you close the gap between the two of you. His hands are tangled in your hair while one of yours rests on his jaw before climbing into his lap.

For the first time in years, your heart began beating again. You and Logan could play pretend for now. Neither of you cared what would happen tomorrow, right now was all that mattered.

[thatnewweeb]

Childhood Sweethearts | Bakugo Katsuki

Summary | You moved to America when you were young, having to leave behind your childhood sweetheart. After moving back to Japan, you'll find out if things have changed between you two

Content | Fluff, honestly I can't think of any warnings for this so let me know if you see anything that needs a warning

Word Count | 1.7k+

A/N | I love the idea of Bakugo being in love with someone through his whole life, I have no idea why. At the time of posting, I wrote this forever ago

It had been almost 5 whole years since you moved away. You missed home. It wasn't like you'd wanted to move away in the first place, but your dad's job took you away from Japan all the way to America.

Finally, at 18 years old, you finally convinced your parents to allow you to move home. Having attended an elite hero school for the past 2 years, you managed to have some special arrangements made for your return home.

And so, that is how you got to where you are now, nervously walking down the halls of UA next to Principal Nezu. He had spent the first half hour of the morning before classes began showing you around and explaining a few things to you.

At the start of homeroom at 8:25AM, he walks you to the classroom of Class 3-A, the class you will be joining, starting today.

Everyone looks over as the door opens, the principal strolling in and standing at the front of the class. You follow nervously. These people have had nearly 3 whole years to get to know each other, and here you are, the new girl joining in the final year, not knowing anyone.

At least, you didn't think you knew anyone, until you force yourself to look at the class properly.

Your eyes immediately fall on a blond boy in the second row. His own eyes are widened, locked onto you. A moment later, you rip your eyes away from him, prompting him to look away also.

When you realise Nezu has stopped speaking and is now looking at you, you snap out of it and look at the whole class.

"My name is Y/N. I have two Quirks, which I am sure I will have more time sometime soon to explain. I look forward to spending this year with you." You say and bow slightly to the class.

Your homeroom teacher, Aizawa, points you to your assigned seat, so you sit down quietly, not saying another word.

It isn't until lunch, almost four hours later, that you say anything else, besides answering questions in class. Your fourth period was English with Present Mic. Having lived in an English-speaking country for almost 5 years, it was quite an easy class for you.

Almost as soon as you are dismissed from class, you're surrounded by people, wanting to talk to you, get to know you. You're fine with that, but you did have someone else you wanted to talk to. They already walked out the door though.

"Y/N!" Someone says, popping up in front of you out of nowhere.

"Izuku!" You smile, excitedly throwing your arms around your old friend.

You see a brown-haired girl blushing as she watches you hugging Midoriya.

"I can't believe you're here! I didn't know you were coming back!"

You nod. "I know, I'm sorry I didn't say anything."

He shakes his head, wanting to reassure you. "It's okay! We fell out of touch, that's not anyone's fault."

Izuku invites you to spend lunch break with him and his friends, being introduced to them all, him explaining a little about how he got into UA at all.

After classes have finished for the day, you don't give Bakugo the chance to run. As soon as you're dismissed from class, you walk over to his desk, standing in front of it and resting your hands on the surface.

"It's nice to see you again, Katsuki." You smirk.

He looks up at you from his chair briefly, quickly looking away. “Yeah, it is.”

You lean down so you’re closer to his height, him still avoiding eye contact. “Would you mind walking me back to the dorm? I haven’t actually been there yet, Nezu didn’t have time to take me.”

He tuts but stands up, picking up his bag and slinging it over your shoulder. Not saying a thing, he leaves the classroom, you following him. You know what he’s like, you know to follow.

As soon as you're out of the halls and outside, he decides to say something. "I didn't know you were coming back." He mutters.

You're just happy to hear him say something to you. "Yeah. I know."

He takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

You pause where you are, stunned. You hadn't expected him to apologise to you.

When you don't say anything, he sighs and turns to you, also stopping walking. "I shouldn't have stopped responding. I was upset you were gone, and I went about things in the stupidest way. I... I regret it."

It takes a moment for you to say anything, blinking in shock. "It's okay." You smile brightly up at him. "I understand. It was hard on both of us, after all."

"Yeah, but I ghosted you. I shouldn't have done that. Not to you, you don't deserve that."

"I agree you shouldn't have done it, dummy. But I'm saying I understand, okay?"

He smiles a little, looking down at you. "Come on, let's go to the dorms." He tugs on your backpack, indicating that you should take it off. When you do, he slings one strap over his shoulder, carrying it for you.

"Since when did you become a gentleman?" You ask with a small laugh, making him grunt a 'shut up' to you, his cheeks going slightly pink.

Finally reaching the dorms, Bakugo opens the door for you, letting you into the large building.

Everyone else is already there, the people in the communal area looking at you as you enter. Other than Izuku, people seem a little surprised to see you with Bakugo, and even more surprised that he doesn't look as annoyed as he typically does.

With everyone staring, Katsuki shoves your bag back into your arms before walking over to the stairs to go to his room.

You smile a little as you watch him, shaking your head.

Izuku is the first person to come up to you, smiling. "Everyone wants to get to know you a little. If you have some time, come sit with us?"

You do what he says, walking over and taking a seat between him and a boy with a black streak in mostly blond hair.

You end up spending a couple hours with them, telling them about your Quirk and what it's like to live in America. When they ask about you seemingly already knowing both Izuku and Katsuki, you tell them that you grew up with them.

A girl with pink skin, who you learn is Mina, asks you for some stupid stories about them as kids, Izuku going red and telling you that you don't have to talk about anything you don't want to, trying to save himself the embarrassment.

Even though you're unsure if Bakugo will be annoyed at you for telling them this, you also tell them a few stories from when you and him were dating before you left for America.

Everyone seems surprised, a small uproar coming from the class. No one had ever even seen an indication that he had ever been interested in anyone, yet alone had a girlfriend. It appeared to be a ludicrous idea to most of them.

Kaminari seems to deflate a little upon realising you dated one of his best friends. Guess he thought you were pretty.

Not long after, you go find your room, needing to unpack. Right before you close the door, a foot stops it from closing. A second later, Bakugo comes into view.

"Well, hello there." You smirk a little, looking up at him.

He smirks back, placing a hand on the doorframe, standing in front of you. "Hey. Care if I come in?"

You move out the way for him to come in but tell him it's a little messy because you're still unpacking.

He doesn't even look at the room, closing the door as soon as he's inside and standing close to you, essentially pinning you between him and the door.

That's when you really realise how much he's changed. He's so much taller now than when you last saw him, his shoulders broader, entire body more muscular, a few visible scars now. The whole thing makes you a little flustered.

"So, do you have a little American boyfriend now?" He asks with a slight snarl, expression turning into a smirk as soon as you shake your head. "No? Then, would you mind if I kissed you?" He whispers in your ear.

You don't verbally respond, but the look on your face gives him the answer he needs. He keeps one hand on the wall, the other coming to rest on your waist, leaning in and pressing his lips against yours. Your own hands find your way to his chest, gripping onto his shirt.

A moment later, he pulls away a little, smirking. "Guess we haven't missed a beat, huh?"

You laugh, not letting go of his shirt. "Suki, you're an ass." You say, making him laugh too.

"Yeah, but you love it." He whispers, leaning in to kiss you again. "It's starting to get late, and you haven't finished unpacking yet. If you wanted to stay in my room tonight, you're welcome to."

You look up at him, a little surprised by the proposal. When he sees the look on your face, he panics a small amount. "I didn't mean it like that! I meant we can spend the night sleeping together- no, not sleeping together! Not like that! I just meant- we- we can- I meant-"

You giggle at his nervousness, making him look a little angry. You move your hands to rest on his cheeks, standing on your tiptoes and smashing your lips against his.

When you finally break the kiss again, both a little breathless, he stares at you, mouth open slightly.

"Sorry, I had to find a way to shut you up." You smile. "I'd love to cuddle tonight, Suki."

He looks relieved, taking your hand. "Come on, let's go."

You spend the rest of the night in Bakugo's dorm, cuddling and eventually falling asleep in his bed.

Before he falls asleep, he spends a few moments just watching you, barely being able to believe that he got lucky enough to get you back into his life. He gives you a soft kiss on the forehead, holding you tighter, closing his own eyes and falling asleep.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITAH for telling my wife no?

My wife (35f) and I (38m) have been married for 12 years, dated for 3 before that. We have 3 kids (10m, 7f, and 5f). We both work full time in separate fields, she does some chemistry thing that I don't understand and I am a manager at a computer repair store my friend runs, and also a short story writer when its slow. She is definitely the breadwinner bill payer between the two of us, but I bring in the fun money for our family and would be completely listless if I didn't at least work part time. We also fully own our home because of her job.

Also, my parents watch the kids for us during the week when we are working. It's been this way since our son was born, and they've been doing it less since they are all in school. But it's free childcare, they refuse to accept money unless it's reimbursing for buying food.

Ok, now that all of that backstory is set, here's where the problem begins.

A couple of months ago my wife started pepper into conversations about a possible promotion coming up that would get her out of the lab and into a more "manage the lab team" position, with less dangerous hours for more pay. Ever since the first time she mentioned it I've been hyping her up and telling her she's a shoo in for the promotion, especially since she's been working there since her masters internship and now she has a PhD.

Last night she told me she was getting word today if she got it! After she left for work this morning I called my boss up and told him I couldn't come in today, and then told my parents the kids were saying with me. We spent the day cleaning the house, drawing congratulations cards, and making a congratulations banner. We also made a couple cards that say sorry and we love you for if she didn't get it. I was working on making her favorite dinner (lobster rolls with lobster bisque, because she's a fancy lady) when she got home earlier than normal. Everyone was surprised, because noone is usually home at this time and yet here everyone was. She got tears in her eyes seeing everything we were still working on, got down and hugged our two youngest, and said she got the promotion! Cheering all around! And that's when she dropped the bomb, saying we need to get a realtor in a state three away from us so we can relocate within the next two months.

I was stunned, and just said no, we arent moving for this promotion. In all of her talks she never mentioned that the promotion wasn't for the same location she's been at. All of our family is here, her parents and mine, all of our friends are here, my job is here. She insisted that she's mentioned relocating before but I swear she never did. That set of a completely new argument about never listening to her and only hearing what I want to hear, and how this will make it so I can stay home with the kids and not even need a fun money job. During this I noticed she was typing on her phone, and when I asked why she was multitasking an argument she said she was texting my parents to get the kids so they don't have to see this.

When my parents got here they congratulated her on the promotion and asked how long until we move.

She told my parents the promotion included relocation.

I'm typing this on the couch in the basement, because I can't face her right now. My parents knowing means she probably did say we would need to move if she got it. I don't want to move, I like my job, and our house. I like being near my parents. I know this would practically set us for life but I don't want to. I know I'm being selfish, and I know I must not be listening when she talks, but I still don't think she should accept the promotion. I still think no.

What are these acronyms?

[tpwk-formula1]

hello! please may i order thick crust, alfredo sauce, artichokes, broccoli and argula with water and aftercare please served by lando🩵

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

thick crust sugar daddy alfredo sweet sex artichokes "Imagine your father saw you now. On your knees like a proper trained slut for me to use" broccoli "Made just for me huh?" arugula "I love stretching this pussy out" water breeding kink dessert yes served by Lando Norris

Lando x Sugar Baby! reader

TW - Size kink conversations, terrible representation of a sugar daddy/baby relationship, oral (both receiving), unprotected sex, talks of filling reader up with cum

WC 1800+

AN - I am so sorry this one took me forever! A few of the first few requests got lost amongst the rest and I just found them and will be out within the next couple of hours <3

Y/N POV

"I'm ready to go home," I tell Lando softly while pulling his hand towards the exit of the Monaco shopping center we had spent the last hour in.

We came here with the intention of Lando purchasing some things I had set my eyes on but as soon as we got here we kept getting stopped by fans. I loved watching the joy spread across Lando's face when a different fan would approach him but after a while, I was starting to get overwhelmed.

"You only got one thing, baby," Lando tells me softly but I just shake my head pulling Lando closer to the valet wanting to get into the car as soon as possible.

"We can get it online," I say sharply still making our way to the valet when Lando's car was parked out front. When we hand them the ticket Lando opens the door for me before shutting it softly and climbing into the driver's seat.

"Didn't know you wanted to fuck me that bad," Lando says with a smirk making me scoff and roll my eyes softly at him before cracking a slight smile.

"I don't know how you handle all the people talking to you in public. I'm not even the one they're taking pictures and I was overwhelmed," I tell Lando softly pulling the hand he had resting on my thigh into my hand so I could play with his rings.

"You know you're a terrible sugar baby right?" Lando questions me with a smirk making me throw my head back with a soft groan.

Lando and I had known each other for years and have been close for the past few years, and one drunk night decided to come up with some stupid idea where we hook up whenever we can and in exchange Lando will take care of some of my fiances.

"You pay my rent still," I tell him softly making me laugh a little.

"You basically live in my bed, why the hell would I make you pay rent for a place you're rarely in," Lando says with a light laugh making me laugh a little with him.

"I don't Lando, it's a strange situation. I mean I use your card occasionally," I tell him with a soft smile.

"Baby, you've had access to my credit card for almost a year and I kid you not I've made three payments of less than a thousand dollars each time," Lando says making me scrug. I think this whole Sugar Daddy and Sugar Baby situation was our weird way of covering up the truth of us wanting to be together.

"Would you rather me max it out every month?" I question softly making Lando laugh a little.

"I mean it would make me feel better after the way I destroy your pussy every chance possible," Lando says smirking making my jaw drop slightly at his crude words. Lando just laughs when he sees my face before pulling into the parking garage of his complex and reverse parking into his spot making my thighs clench together slightly from how hot he looked when he was driving.

When we get into his apartment I make my way into his room where I instantly strip down into nothing but my bra and panties before grabbing one of Lando's shirts and throwing it on just wanting to be comfortable.

"Fuck, I love seeing you in my clothes," Lando says from the door making me turn around towards him flashing a bright smile before walking towards him and pulling him in for a soft kiss.

"Nuh-uh, you have some online shopping to do," Lando says while pulling away making me whine.

"After," I beg making Lando shake his head, before climbing into his bed and patting the spot next to him before pulling his laptop out of his nightstand and handing it to me.

We spent the next hour buying all kinds of things such as new kitchen utensils for Lando's apartment so I could stop bringing stuff from my apartment, new clothes, and Lando's personal favorite was the two grand he insisted he dropped on lingerie that he will surely have me model for him when it arrives.

"No more," I mumble pushing away the computer when I saw that his card went through on the lingerie boutique.

"Are you sure baby?" Lando questions making me nod my head.

"Yes, can you please fuck me now," I ask softly giving him my best puppy dog eyes making me laugh yet he still pulled me in for a heated kiss.

I climb into Lando's lap grinding down on his jeans making both of us moan at the pleasure. I could feel Lando starting to get hard which and me shuffling between his legs so I was on my knees for Lando but still in the bed. I watch as Lando pulls his shirt off as I unbutton his pants and slip his cock through the top of his boxers before I take a small lick at the precum dripping from his tip making him hiss at the stimulation.

"Imagine your father saw you now. On your knees like a proper trained slut for me to use," Lando says with a smirk making me lean down to his thigh and taking a soft bite at it.

"Ya but you trained me to be your slut," I say with a smirk before finally pulling Lando's pants all the way off with his help. He also shuffled his briefs down leaving him bare while I was still in his shirt so I slipped it off leaving me in my matching set. I lean back down and pull Lando back into my mouth while I used my free hand to play with my clit making me moan softly around Lando's cock sending vibrations straight to his tip.

" Fuck you were made just for me huh?" Lando groans out the question when I start deep-throating his cock.

I could tell Lando was getting close which had him pushing me back softly and positioning me on my back before he climbed between my legs and started kissing me.

Lando makes quick work of unclipping my bra and discarding it across the room before trailing soft kisses down my neck and chest before giving a quick soft suck on each nipple before he kisses down my stomach where he pulls my panties down and wastes no time in pulling my clit into his mouth and sucking on it.

"Fuck, Lando," I whine wiggling my hips a bit making Lando grip onto my thighs with his arms and continue licking and sucking on my clit.

"So good," I mumble out making Lando speed up his actions and unwrap one of his arms from my thighs before slipping two fingers into my soaked pussy where he found my G-spot with not trouble and starts teasing it and bringing me close to an orgasm.

When Lando realized how close I was he pulls away making me whine at the lost but quickly shuts me up when he pulls me in for a kiss while slowly pushing his large cock into my pussy.

"Oh my God," I moan loudly when I feel Lando's cock graze my G-spot before he hit my cervix once he was all the way seated into my pussy.

"Lando, too big," I gasp when I feel Lando rocking his hips slightly to stretch me out. Lando and I had issues the first time we slept together cause I couldn't relax myself enough to take him without pain, we quickly learned a few soft circles against my clit will do the job if needed.

"I love stretching this pussy out," Lando groans while staring at the way my pussy was stretching to accommodate his size.

When Lando feels he's stretched me out enough he stops his rocking and instead starts softly thrusting making me gasp when he starts hitting my G-spot each time.

"So good," Im mumble trying to keep my volume down slightly. Lando just picks up his thrusting when he realizes I was holding back slightly.

"Fuck," I moan loudly when he starts hitting my G-spot with a bit more force than before.

"You gonna let me cum in you baby?" Lando questions making me nod my head.

"Please, I need your cum in my," I gasp when Lando starts speeding up his thrusts into a perfect pace.

"Ya? You love feeling my cum fill this pretty pussy up," Lando says while bringing two fingers down to my clit where he rubs soft circles on it bringing me closer to the edge.

"You gonna cum for me pretty girl?" Lando questioned while speeding up his fingers on my clit knowing I was gonna need more than just some soft circles.

"Please, cum with me," I beg before pulling Lando's neck down to my face so I could keep his lips on mine throwing both of us over the edge.

"Fuck baby, I can feel you cumming on my cock," Lando groans into my mouth while still rocking his hips to make sure to ride our orgasms out.

I can feel the way his cum is splashing against the tight walls of my pussy making me gasp. I could tell he was unloading a large load that was sure to leak out of my pussy the rest of the day.

Once Lando and I have both calmed down from our orgasms he slowly slips his cock out of my pussy before laying down next to me and pulling me into his chest.

"Lando, can I ask you something?" I question softly making Lando pick his head up to give me his full attention.

"So I've been thinking, I don't really want to keep this dynamic," I tell him softly making Lando tense next to me.

"I want more," I continue trying to ease Lando's anxiety. I instantly feel his body relax against mine making me relax slightly too.

"I want more too," Lando tells me softly making a smile spread across my face.

"I mean, truthfully we've been more than sex and money this whole time. I mean at least for me. I haven't even looked at another girl the same since you gave me a taste of that pussy," Lando tells me making me laugh at his last comment.

"Well, good thing I haven't looked at another guy since you kinda destroyed me anyways," I joke making a smug smirk spread across Lando's face.

"Ya, I stretched that pussy just for my cock. No one will ever be able to make you cum again," Lando says casually as if it was a normal thing to be proud of.

"You're ridiculous," I laugh before cuddling further into Lando's side.

"So it's official?" Lando questions softly with hope laced in his voice.

"You gonna buy me dinner first?" I joke before nodding my head in agreeance.

"I just dropped 2k to watch you parade around in lingerie, I think that beats dinner. But yes of course I'm gonna take you to dinner and much more," Lando tells me softly making me smile.

[charmedimsure]

could you do a jun ho fic where the f!reader is a new officer and he's training her. she is fully convinced that he hates her (maybe she isn't the best at her job) but at the end of the week he asks her out and she's so shocked. turns out he was dropping hints the whole time and she's an idiot

A TOUGH CASE TO CRACK || hwang jun-ho

pairing: Hwang Jun-ho x f!reader

summary: No matter what you do, you just cannot get on Jun-ho's good side. Normally you'd brush it off, if he wasn't the man who decides whether you get promoted to detective or not.

word count: 2.7k

warnings: police work, murder case, guns

A/N: i love this request sm omg. everything i know about detective work is from brooklyn 99 so i doubt it's very accurate. if you find any mistakes no you didn't <3

When you found out that the detective training you was none other than Hwang Jun-ho, you were ecstatic. You've worked with him a few times before, doing general beat cop tasks for his cases and seeing him around the precinct.

Not only is he an extremely respected detective, he's also really cute. You hate to be the girl at work who's fawning over one of the boys, but come on. You have eyes.

Now though, as you're sitting in the squad car together staking out a suspect for one of his cases, you're starting to wish you had gotten assigned to anyone else.

You've spent nearly two hours together and you can count the number of words he's said to you on one hand. He's barely even looked at you. It's not like you were friends before, but you've worked together since you got transferred to the precinct a few months ago. And now this man will be the deciding factor in whether you get the detective promotion or go back to being a beat cop.

About a week later, Jun-ho approaches you. "We've been assigned a case. Small, straightforward, perfect for training. Get ready, we're gonna head over to the scene. I'll give you a run down on the way over."

You nod, a smile on your face. It may be small, but it's your first case as a detective and you're excited to prove yourself. This may be your first case, but it will not be your last.

"Cool. Let me grab my stuff, I'll meet you at the car in a few minutes."

Jun-ho gives you a curt nod and turns, walking back to his desk to get his things.

You let out a sigh. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to describe a case as 'cool'.

<>

You grimace at the gruesome sight in front of you. A man's body lays on the ground, blood splattered all around the room. A gun lies in his hand.

"First impression," Jun-ho says, taking out his notepad, "suicide."

You take a step closer, wanting to get a better look at the scene. As you try to take another step, a hand grabs your arm, yanking you back.

"Watch where you're stepping!" Jun-ho's voice booms at you. You look down to notice that you had, in fact, been very close to stepping directly in the victim's blood, which would have messed up the evidence badly.

You look down at your boots, embarrassed that you almost made such a rookie mistake. "Sorry, I'll be more careful." You step closer to the body, but his hand is still keeping you in your place. You huff. "I'm not going to step in the blood, you can let go."

He looks down at his hand and quickly releases your arm, allowing you to approach the scene, this time being extra cautious to make sure you don't disturb anything. You crouch down by the man's head, examining the wound.

Jun-ho gives you a questioning look. "What's wrong?"

You shake your head. "Something just feels off to me."

He continues jotting down notes. "Take a look around the place. I'm gonna talk to the wife. Please be careful not to touch anything. Wear gloves if you have to."

You sigh as he walks away. You had wanted to do this together, to learn how an investigation is done as a detective. He probably thinks you're incompetent now. Looks like you're gonna be working separately.

You take a quick scan over the interior of the room, trying to find little clues that may give you a hint as to what happened here. The house looks normal enough (save for the dead man on the floor, of course). Looking towards the windows, you notice that they are all locked, except for one. It could be nothing, but you write it down in your own notebook anyway, not wanting to overlook anything. You'll be damned if you make another mistake.

Jun-ho walks away from the victim's wife, who is crying outside the home.

"Hey, I might have found something," you jog up to him. "All of the windows are locked except one. Seems a little off to me."

Jun-ho sighs. "I don't think that's something to focus on until we get more evidence." He puts his notepad back in his pocket. "Come on, we gotta go back to the precinct."

You feel yourself deflate at his comment, slowly following him to the car.

<>

You march into your chief's office, hands on your hips. "Chief, I'd like to put in a request for a different trainer."

The man looks up at you from the plate of food on his desk. "Why?"

"Because I know that Detective Hwang is going to give me a bad review," you huff. "If I had done badly, I'd accept it, but I can't help it that he doesn't like me."

He gives you a questioning look. "Why do you say that?"

"I don't think he's said one nice thing to me," you rant. "He doesn't talk to me unless he absolutely has to, he barely even acknowledges that I'm there! The only time he talks to me is to criticize me. He doesn't even work with me on our case!" You stop, catching your breath from you long tirade. "You could have assigned anyone to train me, why did you have to choose him?"

The chief cocks an eyebrow at you. "When he found out you were applying to become a detective, Detective Hwang personally requested to train you."

You look at your chief as if he has three heads. "What?"

He picks up a piece of chicken from his plate, bringing it to his mouth. "He said he saw potential in you, wanted to work with you." He looks up at you again. "He hasn't said anything bad about you or your performance. He's actually said you're doing very well."

Your head feels crazy as you try to process this information. The detective training you, the one that hates you, doesn't actually hate you. He asked to train you and praises you to the chief.

"But why would he do that? He acts like he can't stand me."

The chief shrugs. "You're training to be a detective. Solve the case."

You deadpan at him as a smirk grows on his face. "You're so proud of yourself for that one, aren't you?"

"Absolutely I am. Now, get back to your case." He points at the door with his chopsticks. You can't help but let out a small laugh as you walk back to the bullpen.

<>

The next day, you're sitting at Jun-ho's desk, looking through the files on your victim. A crumb from the sandwich you're eating falls onto one of the photos of the crime scene and you quickly flick it away.

"What are you looking at?"

You jump a bit in your seat. Jun-ho is standing over you, looking at the files in your hands. You put your hand on your chest, steadying your breath.

"Holy shit, you scared the crap out of me."

He gives you a barely there smile. "Sorry." You watch his eyes move to the sandwich in your hand and any trace of the smile he once worse disappears.

You sigh. "I know I'm not supposed to be eating on the job, but I was so hungry that I couldn't focus." You put the remainder of the sandwich on the napkin. "And in my defense, it worked. I think I found something," you say, moving over so he can get a better look. You look up at him. "Do you want your chair?"

"No, it's fine," he says, leaning over you to inspect the files. You can feel the heat radiating off of him, making you stiffen.

"Take a look at this," you point to a description of the victim to Jun-ho. "He was left-handed." You then pick up a picture of the body, handing it to him. "Look where the gun is."

He takes the picture, his eyes widening when he realizes it. "It's in his right hand." He puts the photo down, looking down at you. "You said one of the windows was unlocked, right?"

You nod.

Jun-ho grabs his jacket off the back of the chair you're sitting in. "Go get your jacket. We gotta go back to the house."

<>

You slam the door to the squad car, rushing behind Jun-ho as he moves toward the house. "Which window was unlocked?"

"The middle one on the side."

You run to the side of the house, stopping a few feet away from the window. "This one here."

Jun-ho crouches down. The window is over a small flowerbed, the area covered in mulch that couldn't have been laid down more than a week ago.

You hear Jun-ho gasp. "Here! A footprint!"

You come closer, crouching near him. Sure enough, the print of a large shoe is visible in the mulch, leading away from the window.

"You were right," the man next to you says. "This is a murder."

<>

You stand by the coffee machine, brewing a cup for the woman waiting by Jun-ho's desk. He had reached out to the victim's widow, hoping to get some information that could lead to her husband's killer.

You see Jun-ho leaving the Chief's office and call him over. "Do you want to handle the questions?"

"No, I think we should do it together," he says. "I want your opinion, too."

You try to fight the smile growing on your face, nodding. Jun-ho leads you to his desk, pulling up a chair for you to sit in. You place the cup in front of the woman, as well as a tiny bowl with creamers and sugar.

"Thank you for coming in, ma'am," Jun-ho says.

"Is everything alright?" she asks.

"We just want to ask you a few questions," he says. "We've been going over your husband's case and we have reason to believe that this was a murder staged to look like a suicide."

The woman gasps, bringing a hand up to her mouth as her eyes water. "I knew it," he softly cries, "I knew my Jin-young wouldn't have killed himself. We don't even own a gun, and he was such a happy man."

You shift forward in your seat, grabbing the box of tissues from beside Jun-ho's computer and placing them in front of her. She nods a thank you as she takes one. "Ma'am, is there anyone who you think could have done this? Had anything happened recently?"

She takes a moment to think. "I know he was having arguments with a man he worked with, I don't know his name though."

"Do you know what they argued about?"

"One of them was going to be promoted," she explains. "The promotion would give a significant pay raise. The other man had been there for longer, but Jin-young was likely to get it. He was a very likable man, a very good worker, so nice to everyone. The other man though that he deserved it more."

You write down the details in your notebook. Jun-ho leans forward. "Thank you, ma'am. We'll be in contact."

<>

You walk into the building, looking for the suspect. You had done some research and found that the man you're looking for is Kun Yong-ja, a man with a history of assault.

"Ready?" Jun-ho asks you. You nod, and he knocks on the door of the apartment.

The door opens, revealing your suspect. "Can I help you?"

"Hello, sir. We're with the police. We were hoping we could ask you a few questions," Jun-ho says.

The man's face falters for a moment. "About what?"

You pick up a photo of the victim, turning it to show him. "We're aware that you worked with Mun Jin-young. He was found dead in his home a few days ago."

Yong-ja looks between the two of you before slamming the door shut.

"Shit," you say, taking your gun out of its holster.

Jun-ho kicks in the door, taking his gun out as well. You follow him into the apartment. You run to the back, finding a window open by the fire escape.

"I'll follow him down this way, you go around, try to cut him off," Jun-ho tells you.

You nod, rushing out the door and down the stairs. Leaving the building and turning into the alley beside it, you see the back of Yong-ja, who is currently pointing a gun at your partner. As Jun-ho tries to talk him down, you sneak up behind him. With all your strength, you hit his head with the butt of your gun, knocking him unconscious.

"Thank you," Jun-ho says. He takes the handcuffs off his belt, securing them around Yong-ja's wrists.

As the beat cops bring him to the station, you and Jun-ho check his apartment. Sure enough, you find mulch-covered boots that perfectly fit the prints left in the victim's yard, as well as a small book with information on the victim, including his home address.

<>

"Hey."

You turn, seeing Jun-ho walking up to you. You give him a tight-lipped smile. "Hi."

"The chief asked me to give this to you," he smiles as he hands you a small leather booklet.

You take it and open it, gasping when you see what's inside. The right side is blank, but the left holds a badge, the words "National Police Agency" engraved on it.

"Holy shit," you say, a big smile on your face. "I got it! I'm a detective!" You're so happy that you throw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him in an unexpected hug. You feel him tense and pull back. "Sorry, I'm just really happy."

"It's fine," he chuckles. "Actually, this is something that I wanted to talk to you about."

Great, here we go. He's going to tell you how you need to be more professional, that you can't make mistakes while in the field.

"Now that I'm not your superior anymore," he smiles, leaning closer to you, "I was wondering if you want to get dinner with me this weekend?"

Wait, what?

You stare at him for a good ten seconds, mind processing the words that just came out of his mouth. You open your mouth and close it a few times before you're finally able to come up with some words. "Like, as in a date?"

"Yeah, a date. If that's alright."

You continue to stare at him, absolutely baffled.

He starts to shrink, his face dropping. "Please don't feel like you have to. It's okay if you don't want to, I won't hold it against you."

"No!" you blurt out. "I mean, yes, I would love to get dinner with you." You smile at him. "Sorry, I just honestly was not expecting that at all."

"Really?" he asks, brows furrowed. "I feel like I've been kind of obvious about it. I mean, I could barely look at you at first because you made me so nervous. One day I finally got the courage to ask you to lunch, but you were already eating and that plan went out the window."

It finally clicks in your brain. Everything you had assumed he'd done because he hated you, not talking to you and giving you looks when you ate at his desk, it was because he liked you.

"But I made mistakes," you say. "I almost stepped in the victim's blood."

Jun-ho chuckles. "My first case, I put filed a knife under the wrong case, would've blown the entire thing if someone hadn't noticed. I got a good yelling at, and now I always make sure I file evidence correctly. I can guarantee you will always be careful around crime scenes, now."

He's right. After that, you had been much more careful. "Damn," you say, "I really got this wrong."

"Yeah, maybe I shouldn't have recommended you for detective," he teases.

You lightly slap his arm. "No take backs!" You gasp. "Wait, is that why you requested to train me?"

Jun-ho blushes, looking to the floor and kicking his shoes. "The Chief told you about that, did he?" He looks up. "And I'm guessing that you asked for a different trainer because you thought I didn't like you?"

"Man, the Chief really can't keep his mouth shut, huh?" you chuckle.

"Not at all," Jun-ho says. "So, I'll pick you up Saturday night?"

You nod, smiling. "It's a date."

Squid Game Tags: @thebiggestigurosimp @vvnbxz @lov3yy @miltzzy @l5byrinth @come-as-you-are-111 @starkeyszn @learninglinesintherainn @galactict3a

Lmk if you want to be added to the taglist :)

[yazmarina]

dime, ¿esto es lo que tú quería'?

charles leclerc and oscar piastri x fem!reader

how about a reward for monaco's p1 and p2?

warnings/notes: smut, threesome, a blowjob, slight degradation, dirty talk, unprotected sex (wrap it up, people!!!), cumshot, creampie, gagging, light choking

a/n: very ambitious and would not set me free until i wrote it...so please enjoy <3

.

You really had no idea how you ended up here.

Arthur is a good friend of yours, having met him when you first came to work for Ferrari under the communication department, mostly being assigned to handle the Academy and development drivers' communication needs. You and Arthur got on well, and eventually, you were hanging out with him and his other friends on the weekends.

The two of you were strictly friendly, something you've had to clear out multiple times to work superiors, nosy colleagues, insistent reporters, you name it.

Arthur isn't your type, point blank, period.

His older brother was a different topic altogether.

Charles was sensitive, artistic, a prince charming in all aspects. Being in close proximity to Arthur meant you spent some time with Charles, too, but those were few and far between and every time you were within five feet of Charles, you were reduced to a tongue-tied mess.

Regardless, Arthur insisted you come along to the celebrations after Charles' most recent win in Monaco.

"Charles knows who you are and you're my friend. He won't mind," Arthur pleaded earlier that day as you were packing up after the podium celebrations.

"What if you go running off and I'm left alone?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I won't go running off," Arthur promised. "I'll be with you the whole night. I'll even help you look for a guy you can go home with!"

And yet you're here in the present, sitting on a couch in the VIP section, alone.

Well, not really. You're surrounded by people but none of them are talking to you. Arthur had gone to get more drinks half an hour ago and you know by now that he probably was sidetracked by other friends or something to that effect.

You have half a mind to call it a night, your hand already reaching for your purse, when you hear a voice call out.

"________! You're here!"

You look up and your heart seems to jump right into your throat.

Charles is beaming down at you, a flag of Monaco draped around his shoulders, his previously styled hair now sticking up in all directions.

You caught a glimpse of Charles earlier when you arrived with Arthur, but the race winner was too busy doing shots for you to have properly said hi.

But he's here now. And he's sliding into the space beside you.

"Where's Arthur?" Charles asks, reaching for an unopened Heineken on the table in front of you.

"I have no idea," you half-yell, leaning closer so Charles could hear. You feel goosebumps erupt on your skin when Charles lays a tentative hand on your back.

"You can spend time with me, then," Charles grins, moving his arm further so it fully wraps around your shoulders.

A nervous laugh escapes you but your instinct is to lean even further into Charles' touch. He's still smiling at you, though clearly inebriated with the way his eyes seem out of focus.

"Ah, Oscar!"

You turn your head to see the other third of the podium finishers, Osar Piastri himself.

"Hey!" he calls over the din of the music. "I can't find anyone! I think they just abandoned me," Oscar adds, laughing.

He takes the seat on your left, effectively sandwiching you between him and Charles. You smile politely at Oscar, reaching your hand out.

"Hi, I'm ______," you say, smiling wider as Oscar takes your hand in his and squeezes.

"I'm Oscar," he says then pauses, realizing that you probably already knew who he was if you were any friend of Charles'. He laughs, practically giggles, hiding his face in his hand.

"Sorry, I see you around the paddock sometimes, so I probably didn't need to do that," Oscar explains, cheeks turning pink, or at least you think they do, given that the lighting in this club is atrocious.

Oscar is still holding your hand and you can tell that he's tipsy too by the way he's smiling, eyes hooded and sleepy-looking.

"________ is part of communications in Ferrari," Charles explains, rubbing his thumb over the exposed skin of your shoulder. You turn to look at Charles, and the way he gazes back at you, a half smile on his lips, breath hot on your cheek, has your heart pounding incessantly against your chest.

"She's very efficient," Charles praises with a chuckle. "I like seeing her around when she works."

You make a move to swat at Charles' thigh as if to tell him off. "Stop it, I'm not at enough races for you to see me that often."

You're laughing, mostly in disbelief at the words that just came out of Charles' mouth. He likes seeing you around?

Charles shrugs. "But when you are, I notice."

You feel your neck heat up and even more so when Charles maneuvers you closer, seemingly protective. If you moved any more, you'd be on Charles' lap.

Oscar eyes the two of you and you'd give anything to read the thoughts in his head right now. The younger man locks eyes with you and smiles, sweetly at first, but then his pupils glance down briefly at your chest, barely covered by the tube top you decided to don for the evening.

The sweetness quickly melts away as Oscar bites his lip.

"You're close, then?" Oscar asks casually, scooting closer to you and Charles.

"Arthur and her are good friends," Charles points out.

"So I guess by default, _______ and I are good friends, too."

You laugh and Oscar is grinning once more at you, and god does he look handsome under these lights. You can tell that he wants to come even closer, his fingers tapping nervously on his knee. Some slow song is playing over the speakers, bass loaded and making the entire place vibrate.

You reach out, laying a hand on Oscar's thigh, squeezing just enough to get the point across.

Oscar looks over at Charles and you follow his line of sight, seeing some sort of unspoken agreement cross the two drivers.

Charles dips his head, moving even closer to you. He breathes out right next to your ear and you shiver.

"Ma chèrie," he begins. "I think we need to take this somewhere else."

You turn to look at Charles, blood roaring in your ears. "What?"

Charles looks straight into your eyes as if searching for something. He rubs a soothing hand down your back, letting it settle on your waist.

"You want to, no?" Charles asks, momentarily glancing up at Oscar. "With me and him?"

You feel a rush of excitement course through you. Surely, this isn't happening. The idea of Charles bringing you home crossed your mind briefly the moment he touched you earlier, but that's as far as you allowed yourself to imagine. But the remnants of alcohol in your system and the intoxicating atmosphere of the club must have gotten to you with the way you so brazenly made a move on Oscar.

And now you reap what you sow.

"We can hang out at my place," Oscar throws out nonchalantly as if he was simply inviting you and Charles to more drinks at his apartment.

"I just moved in and it could use a little...housewarming," Oscar adds with a pointed look.

Charles bursts out laughing, leaning down to press a kiss to your shoulder before nuzzling into the side of your neck. You glance around, hyperaware that all eyes have been on Charles the whole night, and for sure it isn't any different now.

"Andiamo," Charles whispers. "We'll make it good."

Let's go. Your months of Italian as a prerequisite to working in Ferrari barely register with you now.

Oscar slips his own hand over your thigh, his large palm covering an expanse of your skin.

"You'll love the view from my balcony," Oscar offers, tilting his head towards you. He smiles, innocent and sweet once more, simultaneously squeezing at the flesh of your thigh.

You bite your lip, suppressing whatever sounds that threatened to come out.

-

You thought you'd never make it out of the car ride to Oscar's place.

Oscar had brought his own ride and being much, much more sober than both you and Charles, he took the initiative to drive. You and Charles piled into the backseat, giggling.

"Not fair, you guys," Oscar teased from the front, eyeing you through the rearview mirror. Charles merely snickers, hands sneaking up over your chest as you settle on his lap.

"Eyes on the road, Oscar," Charles ordered, yanking your top down, exposing yourself fully to Oscar. You gasped, the cold air of the air-conditioning lending to the stiffening of your nipples. Charles began to toy with them, pinching and rolling them between his fingers, reducing you to a speechless mess. You noticed just how hard Oscar was gripping the steering wheel, tight enough that his knuckles were drained of color.

You barely had time to cover yourself back up once you got to Oscar's place, with Charles tugging you out of the car as soon as Oscar killed the ignition. The younger of the two comes around to your side of the car as you and Charles stumble out. Oscar takes your hand in his and leans down briefly to kiss you, tongue darting out to lick at the seam of your lips.

Oscar pulls away, sending Charles a look. "I was on the podium, too, mate."

"Ah, sorry Oscar," Charles says lightheartedly. "Sharing isn't really my strong suit. But for her, I will try."

Charles lands a smack on your ass, the sound loud enough to make you flinch. You involuntarily whine at the sting, tripping over your feet a bit. Oscar steadies you, laughing along with Charles.

"We're gonna have so much fun with you, chèrie," Charles teases, kissing your cheek.

The elevator ride is even worse. Or better. You can't decide.

It's just the three of you, and you're backed up into the corner, Charles being the handsier of the two, creeping both hands up your sides, his knee pushing between your legs.

"Ch-Charles, not here," you manage to warn. He increases the pressure against your core, grinning as he watches you shiver.

Oscar watches from the side, arms crossed, leaning casually against the elevator wall. You meet his gaze and he winks, smiling languidly just as Charles kisses down the side of your neck.

Soon enough, the elevator doors open and you push Charles away, startled to see a pair of middle-aged women waiting on the other side. You hurry past them out into the hallway, following Oscar who saunters down towards the end with an easy step.

"Right here," Oscar declares, unlocking a door at the very end. Charles guides you inside just as Oscar turns the light on.

The living room is spacious, with a single couch and coffee table occupying it. A deep blue rug breaks the cream flooring. Past the receiving area is the dining and kitchen, set against floor-to-ceiling windows, a staple of Monegasque apartments, as you've come to figure out. A hallway veers to the right.

"You weren't kidding about the view," you comment, taking in the night sky and the sprawling harbor.

Oscar turns back to you, and only now do you get a good look at him. The first three buttons of his shirt undone, his hair the right kind of messy, and his eyes, darker than what you're used to.

"The view in here is just as good," Oscar replies, eyes raking over your body. He reaches out, a hand resting on your waist.

"May I?" Charles whispers from behind you, tugging down the zip of your skirt. He gets it open and you let it fall to your feet, kicking it off to the side.

"So pretty," Charles adds, kissing along your upper back. Oscar hikes your top up and you let him pull it over your head, leaving you bare, save for your panties.

"I could see your tits through your shirt the whole night," Oscar comments, pointer fingers ghosting over your nipples. "Imagined what they might look like."

You gasp, leaning further back into Charles. You had no idea Oscar had that kind of mouth on him.

It turned you on to no end.

"Better than what you imagined?" You breathe out, Charles' fingers making their way over your mound, pressing over the wet spot on your underwear.

"Chèrie, you're so wet," Charles curses, rubbing you through the thin fabric. "Will you let me get a taste of you, hm?"

You nod frantically, already buckling under the lightest of touch from both men. You can only imagine how pathetic you look right now, stripped bare, with them still fully clothed.

"We should move this to the room," Oscar offers, delivering a final pinch to both of your nipples. You yelp as Oscar chuckles darkly, taking your hand in his.

It hasn't even fully started and you're already made to do the walk of shame.

Oscar's walls are still mostly bare but you feel exposed somehow, shivering despite the fairly warm temperature. He leads you and Charles to the door at the end of the hall, stepping inside while undoing the rest of the buttons on his shirt.

You're met with large double doors on one side of the room, leading to, what you can only assume, is a large balcony.

"We can do it with a view, amour," Charles says, wrapping both arms around your waist.

Oscar shrugs his shirt off and you watch as his muscles flex beneath his skin, taut and defined.

"We sure can," Oscar agrees, flinging the doors to his balcony open. The cool night breeze blows past your face and you sigh, heart rate picking up even more.

Charles gently maneuvers you closer to the open doors and your hands start to clam up. Shit, are you really doing this?

"W-Wait," you mutter. "Won't anyone see?"

Oscar approaches you, pointer finger hooking into your underwear. He tugs at it harshly, yanking it halfway off.

"We don't have to do it outside if you don't want to," Oscar says, voice low. He looks at Charles. "Don't wanna get kicked out after I've just moved in."

Charles snickers. "The bed is right there. We'll leave the doors open and let them hear you, instead."

And it's true. The bed is directly in front of the balcony doors, moonlight spilling onto Oscar's navy blue sheets. Oscar grabs fully at your soiled panties now, ripping them clean off.

You gasp, but any shock is melted away when you see Oscar ball up the torn fabric in his hand, bringing it closer to your face. He raises his eyebrows as if questioning you.

"Yes? No?" He asks, tapping beneath your chin. It clicks a little late what Oscar is asking of you but you nod, parting your lips.

Oscar grins, pushing your panties into your mouth.

Fuck.

You hear the metal clang of a belt being unbuckled behind you, followed by the crinkle of fabric as Charles lets his pants and underwear pool around his ankles.

"You and I are going to have so much fun with her, no, Oscar?" Charles asks, a hint of mischief in his voice.

Oscar undoes the button of his pants as well. "Yes, we are."

"How do you want to do this, baby?" Charles addresses you, taking hold of your hips. "Tell us."

"And maybe if you're good, we'll give you what you want," Oscar adds, a hand sliding up your chest before resting around your neck. Your breath hitches as you feel Oscar test the waters, squeezing lightly.

"Oh, wait," Charles laughs condescendingly. "She can't talk."

There's a glint in Oscar's eyes as he adds pressure around your neck. "Guess we have to decide for her then."

You whimper, arms reaching out to wrap around Oscar's own neck. He smiles at you, almost warmly, but you can still see the bubbling desire in his irises.

"You can take the gag out any time you want," Oscar instructs softly, releasing your neck. You take in a big breath through your nose.

"And if you don't like anything we're doing, say 'Monte Carlo'," Oscar adds. He nods at Charles and you feel yourself being pulled backward.

"Get on the bed," Charles commands and you scramble to do so, crawling over the mattress before turning around and laying back on your elbows.

Charles and Oscar eye you intently and you're tempted to cover yourself, but with how they've been acting the whole night, you're not sure how that would be received.

"You wanna go first?" Oscar nudges Charles lightly. The Monegasque grins widely like a kid on Christmas.

"Oh, yes," Charles concedes, getting on the bed with you. He scoots down so his face is level with your cunt.

"Hold tight, my love," Charles says before licking a thick stripe up your core. Your whole body jerks and you cry around the gag in your mouth.

Charles continues to work on your dripping pussy, alternating between flicking against your clit and circling your hole. You moan and whine and whimper, eyes tearing up as you look pleadingly at Oscar.

"Look at you," Oscar laughs. "We've barely done anything."

Charles spreads your legs even wider, licking even deeper. You're fully crying now, the buildup proving too much as you feel your body shake at your approaching orgasm.

Oscar reaches over and toys with your boobs, brushing over your nipples just the way you like it. Without warning, Oscar dips his head down and takes one in his mouth, circling the nub with his own tongue.

The added sensation nearly drives you crazy. The pressure builds rapidly inside you and you're left incoherent as you beg without words.

Not yet, fuck, I can't cum that fast–

You twitch and involuntarily press your pussy harshly against Charles' mouth as you come undone, toes curling and body seizing up. Oscar pulls away and watches as you throw your head back, fingers twisting into the sheets.

"Already?" You hear Charles' voice through the ringing in your ears. "You must really want it."

You blink through your tears, momentarily confused as you see Oscar reach for your face. You cough as you feel the dry fabric being pulled out from your mouth. Oscar tosses your ruined underwear to the side.

"I think she deserves a reward for getting there so fast," Oscar suggests, turning to Charles.

"Which one do you want a taste of first? You get to pick, sweetheart," Oscar says, wiping a stray line of drool dripping down the side of your mouth.

"Ch-Charles," you croak, throat still dry.

Charles and Oscar share a curt nod and the former moves to the head of the bed.

"Hands and knees, my love," Charles orders and you follow, getting on all fours. He settles against the headboard, leaning back as you take his cock in your hand.

"Guess you want me here, then?" Oscar says from behind you. You turn to peek over your shoulder to see Oscar stroking languidly at his cock, one of his hands coming down to spread your ass apart.

"Fuck, this view," Oscar hisses, smacking your ass once.

"I reckon, you don't need me to prep you? I can just–"

You shriek as you feel Oscar push in without warning, and though it was a surprise, the obscene amount of arousal coming from your cunt aids in the stretch that Oscar's cock brings.

He fully sheathes himself inside and he groans, grabbing your hips with both hands.

"Chèrie." Charles' voice forces your attention back to him.

"Don't forget about me, hm?"

You try to compose yourself as best as you can as Oscar starts to fuck you at a relentless pace. You lower your mouth down to Charles' cock, wrapping your lips around the tip.

You take half of him in, coating him in your spit, going lower each time you come down. Charles is nearly as incoherent as you were earlier, curse words in three different languages falling from his lips.

You feel the tip of his cock reach the back of your throat and you stop, gagging around it. Charles threads his fingers through your hair, yanking you back up.

"Open your mouth," Charles says, tightening the grip on your hair.

You do as you're told and Charles angles himself better. He holds you in place as he fucks up into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat each time. You will your breathing to slow, but the constant assault on your pussy muddles your brain and destroys your focus.

"She's so fucking tight," Oscar says through gritted teeth. You can feel his nails dig into your sides.

"Here as well," Charles agrees. "So warm and so wet."

All you can do is sob as you let the two of them use you, filled up on both sides, reduced to nothing but two holes.

"Fuck, I wanna cum on her face," Oscar says hurriedly, hips slowing down, probably in an attempt to keep his orgasm at bay.

Charles pulls you back off of him and he surveys you for a second.

"And I'll do it inside," Charles says. "Will you let me cum inside, chèrie?"

You nod, unconsciously clenching around Oscar. He curses, speeding up his movements again.

"Mate, I can't take it anymore," Oscar rushes, pulling out. You whine at the loss but Charles is quick to get off the bed, replacing Oscar's place behind you.

You feel the Charles' tip press against your hole and you plead, rocking back, desperate to be filled up.

"Charles, please, n-need your cum in me," you stutter. "Wanna be filled up, I need it, need you, please–"

Charles slides in one swift motion and your eyes roll all the way back in your head. He's thicker than Oscar and the stretch is almost painful but in the best way possible.

The older of the two wastes no time and starts pounding into you, rendering you speechless at how brutal his pace is. You're dizzy with arousal, spit and tears mixing on your chin and cheeks.

"Look here, sweetheart," comes Oscar's voice, rough around the edges, his hand cupping your chin.

He's stroking his cock at an impossible pace, bottom lip caught between his teeth. You look straight into his eyes as you stick your tongue out, waiting for him to release all over you.

"Fuck, you really are desperate for it," Oscar sneers, gripping harder at your face. "Open wide."

A warm spurt of liquid shoots straight onto your tongue, landing on your cheeks as well. You squint as it hits nearer to your eyes but you obediently lick up everything you can from your lips, swallowing Oscar's thick cum down.

"Oh god, baby," Charles warns. "Je vais bientôt jouir–"

Charles presses you closer to him, caging your hips against his own. He groans and you feel him twitch within you. You clench down as hard as you can around him, earning your hair a harsh tug from behind. Charles yanks you back against him as he gives a few more thrusts to ride his orgasm out.

"We are not done with you yet, amour," Charles warns.

Oscar's face comes into view and he's eyeing you up and down, his thumb swiping at a stain of himself on your cheek. He brings it to your lips and you lick his digit clean.

"Good girl," Oscar praises. "But he's right. You can give us a few more, right?"

You swallow.

You nod.

[mononijikayu]

kinikilig — itadori yuji.

“Ugh, they’re driving me crazy!" Yuuji groaned, flopping dramatically onto the dorm couch. He had dragged Megumi and Nobara into his ordeal, much to their dismay. “You’re driving us crazy, Itadori.” Nobara shot back, arms crossed as she glared at him. “Do you realize how many times you’ve ranted about this today?” “But I’m serious!" Yuuji sat up, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “Every time I try to ask them what they want, I get all... I don’t know, flustered. And then I just start staring at them instead of saying anything. And then they make a joke, and I laugh, and—" He buried his face in his hands. “I just really love them, okay?!”

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Canon Convergence;

WARNING/s: Safe For Work (SFW), Post-Canon, Christmas, Aged Up Characters (Yuuji and Reader are 18+), Fluff, Young Love, Dating, Relationships, Romance, Pet Names (Babe, Yuu-chan, etc), Established Relationship, Teasing, Minor Drama, Feelings, First Love, Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Flirting, Humor, Domesticity, Slice of Life, Light-Hearted, Pining, Holding Hands, Doubt, Profanity, Nanami and His Wife Cameo, Itafushikugi Sibling Coded;

WORD COUNT: 4.6k words.

NOTE: i promised to write this because there was a huge need to yuuji content. posting this for you @rreveurdoll as much as this is for me. and since it is christmas eve (still day time) in asia, i might as well post this since i will be sleeping for a bit!!! i hope everyone is well and happy this holiday. i'll be posting a christmas art everyone is welcome to enjoy and print out as a card or sticker. happy holidays to everyone!!! i love you!!!

masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

kilig (adjective) — "exhilarated by an exciting or romantic experience"; such feeling can be something as idiomatic as saying, "hey, i'm feeling butterflies in my stomach for you!" or next best thing to that which is "i'm genuinely feeling excited!"

“SHIT!” — THOSE WERE THE WORDS HE ENDED UP SAYING, EVEN WHEN HE DIDN’T MEAN TO. But the word echoed louder than Itadori Yuuji intended, startling an elderly woman walking past him on the crowded street. He winced and muttered an apologetic “Sorry!"under his breath, clutching the shopping bags in his hands a little tighter.

Itadori Yuuji wasn’t one to curse out loud. He prided himself on his optimism and his ability to keep things light-hearted even in the most stressful situations. But this? This was different. This time, Yuuji felt the situation demanded it. Because at this rate, he was setting himself up for failure.

He groaned, running a hand through his messy pink hair as he stood frozen in the middle of the bustling holiday crowd. Glittering lights adorned the storefronts, garlands hung in perfect loops above doorways.

And the faint melody of carolers blended with the hum of city life. The festive energy was palpable, but none of it helped ease the knot tightening in Yuuji’s stomach. How could it? This situation is driving him to a cliff of endless worries he doesn't want to end up in.

It was lovely Christmas time once more. You loved it as much as he did. It was the season of cheer, joy, and giving; it had everything and more! And the Tokyo streets buzzed with life for it. People rushed by with shopping bags brimming with carefully chosen gifts, their faces alight with excitement and satisfaction. It felt like everyone had their holiday plans perfectly in order.

Everyone except Itadori Yuuji.

This year was supposed to be special. It was his first Christmas with you as his lover, and he wanted everything to be perfect. Scratch that—he needed it to be perfect. You were his whole world, his everything, and this gift needed to show you just how much you meant to him.

But the harder he tried, the more overwhelmed he became. He’d scoured countless stores, browsed endless online listings, and spent hours walking in circles around the mall. Yet no matter where he looked, nothing felt right. Everything he picked up seemed too small, too impersonal, or just not enough.

It wasn’t that Yuuji didn’t know you. He knew the little things that made you happy. The way your bright eyes lit up at the sight of something sweet, how your laugh always started with a soft giggle before it burst into pure, unrestrained joy. He knew your favorite colors, your favorite snacks, and the way you always hummed under your breath when you were lost in thought.

And maybe that was the problem.

Because knowing you so well only made him want to give you something truly extraordinary. Something that could somehow capture just how much he adored you. But every time he thought about it, his mind short-circuited, overwhelmed by a love that was too big for words—or holiday gifts.

“Ugh, what am I going to do?" Yuuji muttered, dragging himself into yet another store. The cheerful holiday music playing in the background did nothing to soothe his nerves as he wandered aimlessly past rows of glittering ornaments and festive knick-knacks.

If he didn’t figure this out soon, he’d end up empty-handed on Christmas morning. And that, to him, was simply unacceptable. The thing was, Yuuji wasn’t bad at shopping. He’d always been good at it. Grandpa Wasuke said so! In fact, the act of searching was easy. He had a good eye for thoughtful details and a knack for picking up on what people might enjoy. 

Over the past few weeks, he had ventured into dozens of stores, scrutinizing shelves of trinkets, clothes, and gadgets. He’d spent hours scrolling through endless online listings, carefully reading reviews and comparing options. He’d even braved the chaos of the mall during the holiday rush, weaving through crowds with a determination that rivaled a seasoned shopper.

He wasn’t just browsing aimlessly, either. Yuuji took his mission seriously. As serious as he would be a real sorcerer’s mission. If anything, he’d go on and on even longer than at his missions. Because you deserve nothing but the best. He knew that much. He was going to make sure you get the best and only the best from him. His love was premium. Shouldn’t his gift to you be like that too?

He’d lingered in the holiday gift section, picking up items and putting them back down, imagining how you might react to each one. Would this make you laugh? Would that make your eyes sparkle with excitement? He spent so much time in one store that an employee asked if he needed help—or if he was lost.

The problem wasn’t the act of searching; it was what happened after.

Every time he thought about what you might like, his brain short-circuited. It wasn’t that he didn’t know you well enough. Quite the opposite. Itadori Yuuji adored you. He knew the little things that brought you joy: how your hands curled around a warm mug on chilly mornings, the soft sigh of contentment that followed. 

The way your beautiful eyes just lit up, full of passion, whenever you talked about something you loved. The way you had a talent for making the most ordinary days feel extraordinary, whether it was through your humor, your kindness, or just the way you smiled at him like he was your whole world.

And that was the problem.

Because every time Yuuji tries to take the logical next step about it all, he always seems to fail. When he thinks about asking you what you might want for Christmas—he’d freeze. Completely and utterly freeze. 

His chest would tighten, his heart would hammer, and he’d lose his words altogether. He’d open his mouth to ask, only to get distracted by how cute you looked while you were busy doing something entirely unrelated.

It wasn’t just love. No, he was sure. It was more than that. Love is not enough to describe how much he loves you. It was the kind of love that left him lightheaded, giddy, and absurdly incapable of functioning like a normal person. Yuuji wasn’t just in love with you; he was ridiculously, overwhelmingly, head-over-heels in love.

And that made everything infinitely harder.

He couldn’t even concentrate when he was around you. Instead of asking what you wanted, he’d catch himself staring, marveling at the way you furrowed your brow while concentrating or how your laughter could turn his worst days into his best. When you cracked a joke (sometimes funny, sometimes not), Yuuji laughed anyway, not because of the joke but because it came from you.

Every time he thought about asking again, he found that the words got stuck in his throat, replaced by a flood of affection he didn’t know how to articulate. He would be a bumbling mess. And you would get worried and ask him if he was okay. But he would babble that he was okay. But he can’t help that either. How could he even begin to express how much you meant to him?

And so, instead of making progress, Yuuji found himself stuck in a loop of adoration and frustration. He’d groan and mutter to himself, pacing his room or staring at the ceiling late at night, wondering how something as simple as picking a Christmas gift could become so complicated. 

When did things get complicated? When did things get hard? Everything about this was ruining his ability to think straight. And that wasn’t your fault. It never will be, no. It was his inadequacies as your lover. He was sure of that. He once more groans, earning the looks of his classmates.

“Ugh, they’re driving me crazy!" Yuuji groaned, flopping dramatically onto the dorm couch. He had dragged Megumi and Nobara into his ordeal, much to their dismay.

“You’re driving us crazy, Itadori.” Nobara shot back, arms crossed as she glared at him. “Do you realize how many times you’ve ranted about this today?”

“But I’m serious!" Yuuji sat up, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “Every time I try to ask them what they want, I get all... I don’t know, flustered. And then I just start staring at them instead of saying anything. And then they make a joke, and I laugh, and—" He buried his face in his hands. “I just really love them, okay?!”

Megumi, sitting with a book in hand, sighed heavily. “We know. You’ve said it a hundred times.”

“But do you understand how hard it is?!" Yuuji looked at them, his warm eyes wide and desperate. “Like, they’re so amazing. And cute. And funny. Like, even when their jokes aren’t funny! I can’t help it! I laugh anyway because I just... I love them so much! And I just, grrrr! Why can’t I do this right?”

Nobara threw a pillow at him, hitting him square in the face. “You’re ridiculous. Just ask them already!”

“I tried! But every time I think about asking, I get all red and tongue-tied. I can’t even look them in the eye without grinning like an idiot!"Yuuji groaned, sinking back into the couch to wallow in his self-perceived ineptness. “I just... I just want this to be perfect! They’re the ones, guys! I can’t ruin this. I want to... I want to do well.”

“You’re hopeless, aren’t you?” Nobara muttered, rolling her eyes as she grabbed a Christmas cookie from the table.

“Maybe write them a note.” Megumi suggested, not even looking up from his book. “Or I don’t know; stop overthinking everything. I don’t think it matters what you give them. They love you enough for everything else. They’re with you for a reason, Itadori. They like you. Not what you can provide them. It’s not that deep.”

“But it is that deep!" Yuuji exclaimed, flailing his arms. “I want it to be perfect! I want them to know how much they mean to me!”

“Just pick something from the heart, Itadori.” Nobara said, her tone softening slightly. “They’ll love it because it’s from you, dumbass. You don’t need to stress so much.”

Yuuji sighed, hugging the pillow Nobara had thrown at him. Deep down, he knew they were right. It wasn’t about finding the perfect gift. It’s never been like that with you, no. It was about showing you how much he cared. And he already knew how he felt: completely, utterly, hopelessly in love with you.

That night, he sat at his desk, the dorm room quiet, save for the faint rustle of snow falling outside his window. He leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand as his mind drifted to you. He thought about the way your laugh always seemed to bubble up like music, filling the air with warmth. He thought about how, even on the darkest days, your presence was enough to make everything feel a little bit brighter, a little bit easier.

With a deep breath, he picked up a pen and a blank sheet of paper, staring at it as if it held all the answers he was looking for. He twirled the pen between his fingers, his heart thudding in his chest. For once, he didn’t try to overthink it. He knew he had the words. He just has to let them go. 

He takes a deep breath and looks at the page again. He can do this. He knows he can. Nothing is impossible for love. Nothing is impossible when it comes to loving you. And showing you that, well, he wants to make sure you see it! And so he let the words flow, raw and honest, straight from his heart. He doesn’t stop until he gets every bit of it out. 

He started with the small things. How he loved the way you’d hum absentmindedly when you were focused, or how you’d always check to make sure he was okay, even when you were the one who’d had a rough day. He wrote about how much he admired you—your kindness, your resilience, your ability to find joy in the simplest things.

Then, as the words poured out, he wrote about the bigger things. How meeting you had changed him in ways he couldn’t fully explain. How, before you, he hadn’t realized how much brighter life could be. How he’d never known what it felt like to be this happy, this complete, until he met you.

The more he wrote, the lighter he felt. By the time he reached the end of the letter, his hand was cramped, but his heart felt full. He folded the paper carefully, tucking it into an envelope and sealing it with a quiet smile.

The next day, Itadori Yuuji ventured out into the bustling city again. The crisp winter morning coupled with the cold winter air was sharp and frosty, each breath forming little clouds that vanished as quickly as they came. Today was the day he'll get that bonus gift. He will find the perfect one. He knows it.

He wandered from shop to shop, weaving through crowds of last-minute shoppers. He studied every display carefully, letting his instincts guide him to the perfect one. He knew it just had to be here somewhere. Yet, after hours of searching, the doubt began to creep back in.

“What if I can’t find it?”He muttered to himself, the weight of his self-imposed expectations starting to press down again. “No, no. We had this talk, Itadori Yuuji! You will find it. You have the letter; that’s the present. Your love? That’s the gift. This is just a bonus, okay? No pressure!”

Lost in thought and incoherent mumbles to himself, Itadori Yuuji wasn’t paying attention to where he was going and nearly collided with a familiar figure. He blinked for a moment. It was a good thing he wasn’t carrying anything. 

“Ah—sorry!” He blurted out, stepping back to apologize. Then he froze. “Nanamin?!”

Standing before him was none other than Nanami Kento, looking as polished as ever in a dark wool coat and a long, warm-colored scarf neatly tucked into place. Beside him was a woman with a kind smile; her arm looped casually through his. She gasped and smiled.

"Itadori-kun.” Kento greeted, raising a brow at the flustered expression on Yuuji’s face. “What are you doing out here?”

“I, uh...” Yuuji scratched the back of his head. “I’m trying to find a Christmas gift for someone. It’s... really important.”

Kento’s wife tilted her head curiously. “You look a little lost, Itadori-kun. Need some help with it?”

Yuuji hesitated, then let out a sheepish laugh. “Honestly? Yeah. I’ve been wandering for hours... Well, for a long while now. And I still don’t know what to get. I mean, I got the letter and everything and my love for them. I think that’s the most important part, but the other part of it is just...”

Kento glanced at his wife, who smiled warmly and squeezed his arm. “Well, lucky for you, I’m a bit of a pro at picking out thoughtful gifts, aren’t I, Kento?” She said to him. “Why don’t we take a look together, Itadori-kun?”

Before Yuuji could protest, she guided him into the next store, her pace brisk yet purposeful. Nanami Kento merely followed a few steps behind, his expression as composed as ever, though Yuuji could swear there was a flicker of amusement in his mentor’s caramel eyes.

“So, Itadori-kun.” Kento’s wife began, glancing at Yuuji as they entered a cozy boutique lined with handmade crafts and ornaments. "Can you tell me a little about your partner? What do they like?”

Yuuji scratched the back of his head, suddenly feeling shy. “Well, they love warm drinks, like tea and hot chocolate, especially on cold days like this. They always get this little smile when they’re holding a warm mug.”

Kento’s wife smiled. “That’s a lovely detail. What else?”

“They’re really passionate about their hobbies, a lot really!" Yuuji continued, his voice softening as he thought of you. “When they talk about something they love, their eyes just... light up. It’s amazing. I could listen to them for hours.”

She chuckled, picking up a small handcrafted snow globe from a nearby shelf. “Sounds like you’re pretty smitten, Yuuji.”

Yuuji’s face turned bright red at her comment. “I mean... Yeah.” he admitted, scratching his cheek. “They’re just... really special, you know? Like, every moment with them feels like a gift.”

Nanami Kento, who had been quietly observing, cleared his throat. “Itadori-kun, while that’s touching, perhaps you could focus on specifics. What’s something they’ve mentioned recently? Something they’ve wanted or admired?”

Yuuji paused, thinking hard. Then his warm eyes lit up. “Oh! They mentioned this charm they saw once—something small but meaningful. They said it reminded them of their family. I didn’t think of it until now.”

Kento’s wife clapped her hands together. “Perfect! Let’s see if we can find something like that.”

As they moved through the store, Itadori Yuuji rambled on, describing your quirks and favorite things with so much enthusiasm that even Nanami Kento seemed amused. The kid is passionate about a lot of things; he’d observed that in the time Yuuji and him had spent time together. 

But at this level? Never. He’s not seen that at all. But perhaps Kento could find himself relating to the younger man. He too is a man in love who can't help but be frantic when it comes to his own lover. And he too is the type of man who would never shut up about the person he loves. 

“They always hum when they’re concentrating. They do that really well too!"Yuuji said, smiling fondly. “But to be honest, Nanamin, it’s the cutest thing. And they’re amazing at turning little moments into something fun, like making a random walk feel like an adventure.”

“You really adore them, don’t you?"Kento's wife asked him, her tone full of teasing.

“I do. I really do,” Yuuji replied earnestly, his expression softening. “I just want to make them as happy as they make me.”

Kento’s wife exchanged a glance with her husband, who gave her a subtle nod. “Well, Itadori-kun, with that much love behind it, whatever you choose will be perfect.”

A moment later, Yuuji’s bright-eyed gaze landed on a beautifully decorated charm tucked away on one of the displays at the corner. It was simple, delicate, and intricately designed—a perfect match for the one you’d described.

“This is it! I think this is it!" Yuuji said, picking it up carefully. His grin grew wider as he imagined your reaction. “I think they’ll love it. I just know it.”

Kento’s wife smiled approvingly. “You did great, Itadori-kun. And now you can relax knowing it’s exactly what they’d want.”

Kento gave a faint smirk at the young man. “Next time, save yourself the trouble and ask them directly, Itadori-kun." It might save you hours of pacing through stores.”

Yuuji laughed, clutching the charm in his hand. “I’ll keep that in mind, Nanamin. Thanks for the help, both of you. I appreciate it. Really.”

Kento’s wife waved off his gratitude with a smile. “It’s nothing, Itadori-kun! You already knew what you wanted, you know? You just needed a little nudge.”

As they walked out of the shop together, they parted ways soon after that. Itadori Yuuji clutched the carefully wrapped gift in his hands, his heart lighter than it had been in days. This wasn’t just a present. It was a piece of his love for you, wrapped in meaning and chosen with care. And he couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when you opened it.

When Christmas Day arrived, it was just too much. Itadori Yuuji was a bundle of nerves. He paced his room, the gift and letter sitting neatly on his desk. His stomach churned with a mix of excitement and anxiety. He practiced what he would say, only to stumble over his words each time.

“What if they don’t like it?” He muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair. “What if it’s not enough?”

But all of Yuuji’s doubts melted away the moment you walked in. The door jingled as you stepped inside his dorms, shaking off the chill of the winter air, and the world seemed to slow. He felt like he couldn't breathe. You knocked his air away from his lungs with just your existence. You always have.

You looked effortlessly beautiful to him, even in the simple warmth of your coat and scarf. But it wasn’t just the way you looked—no, it was your presence. That radiant smile of yours, so wondrously bright and delightful. The one that always made his heart skip a beat spread across your face as soon as your eyes landed on him.

“Yuu-chan!” You exclaimed, your voice soft but bright, sending a flutter straight to his chest. You closed the distance between you in a few quick steps, your eyes lighting up with happiness. “I missed you, wah! I’m glad you’re back!”

Yuuji froze for a moment, overwhelmed by the sight of you. He had spent days thinking about this moment, stressing over the gift, over making everything just right—but now that you were standing in front of him, all of that seemed insignificant. The only thing that mattered was you.

“I, uh, got you something, baby.” Yuuji stammered, feeling the warmth flood his cheeks. His hands, which had been shaking since he first picked up the gift, now trembled even more as he extended the small package toward you. “It’s not much, but... It’s from the heart.”

You looked down at the little box in his hands, then back up at him with a soft, knowing smile. "Yuu-chan, you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I know, I know,” he said quickly, trying to steady his breath. “But  you know that I just….I wanted to. You’re... really important to me, you know? And I just wanted to show you how much I care. That I... I want to express my love for you like this.”

Your heart warmed at his words. You reached forward, gently taking the package from his trembling hands. You couldn’t help but feel like you were going to combust with how much warmth radiated in you because of his tenderness. 

Everything about your lover made you feel like the world isn’t a cold place. He was everything that made life so good. You were convinced of that. The sincerity in his voice, the way he was so nervous yet so full of love. It made you feel more cherished than any grand gesture ever could.

You carefully unwrapped the gift, the anticipation in Yuuji’s bright eyes palpable as you slowly revealed what was inside. The beautiful and yet simple charm, delicately designed and elegant in its simplicity, lay nestled in the box.

You gasped softly, your fingers tracing the intricate design. It was everything Yuuji had described and more. It wasn’t flashy, but it held such deep meaning. You didn’t want it to be flashy. You just wanted it to be from him, from his heart. You felt the weight of his love in it and the thoughtfulness behind every detail.

And boy, did it deliver. He always does. Your lover boy always will. 

“There’s a letter inside for you, Read it later, okay? If you want—"

“Yuu–chan!” You whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “It’s perfect.”

His face turned a shade of pink so deep it was almost red, and he scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. “Really? You like it?”

You nodded, eyes glistening. “I love it. I love you.”

Yuuji’s heart skipped a beat, and he could hardly contain the goofy grin that spread across his face. It wasn’t about the gift. Though he was surely sure that he was happy you liked it anyway. But of course, this was more important.  

It was about the way you looked at him that made him feel whole and giddy all over again. The way your smile made his chest feel light, the way your love seemed to wrap around him, as real and as warm as the scarf you wore.

“I love you too.” He whispered in a relieved and yet so loving tone. “So much.”

“You’re the best, Yuu-chan!” You said, stepping forward to hug him, the gift still clutched in your hand. His arms instantly wrapped around you, and he buried his face in your hair, breathing you in. “I love it! I love you! Ah, I’m just so happy!”

“I’m just glad you like it, baby.” he mumbled, the words muffled in your hair, but you could hear the relief and joy in his voice. “I was really worried it wouldn’t be enough.”

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your hands resting on his chest. "Yuu-chan, you don’t need to worry about that. It’s perfect because it’s from you. And that’s all that matters.”

He gazed down at you, the love in his eyes overwhelming. “I... I just want to make you happy. That’s all I ever want.”

And in that moment, as you stood there together, the soft glow of his dorm lights casting a gentle shimmer through the window, Itadori Yuuji realized something that took his breath away. He had already given you the best gift of all, his heart. 

All the shopping, all the wrapping, the hours of nervous pacing. All of that. they suddenly seemed so trivial compared to this: the simple, unspoken exchange of love that had passed between the two of you. This was more than enough for him. This was his paradise. This was his Christmas miracle. 

His chest swelled with warmth, and he looked down at you with a soft smile, his heart racing just as fast as it had the moment he first met you. No amount of material things, no matter how perfect, could ever compare to the way you made him feel. You were his everything.

Before he could say another word, you stood on your tiptoes, your hands gently cupping his face, and kissed his cheek. The touch was sweet, soft, and full of affection. Yuuji’s warm eyes widened in surprise, the blush creeping up his neck as he felt the warmth of your lips against his skin.

“You’ve done that and more, Yuu-chan! ”You whispered, your voice a little breathless with affection. “Don’t worry!”

His heart fluttered. He felt like he might melt right where he stood. His hands, which had been trembling when he gave you the gift, were now steady as they gently brushed a lock of hair from your face. The tenderness in your words, the way you made him feel so cherished and understood, filled him with a joy that no gift could capture.

“You really think so, baby?”He asked softly, a shy grin pulling at his lips.

“Of course I do,” you replied, smiling up at him with those sparkling eyes of yours. “You’re all I ever need, Yuu-chan.”

The sincerity in your voice made his heart swell, and he leaned in closer, his forehead resting gently against yours. The world outside seemed to fade into the background, leaving just the two of you in this perfect, quiet moment.

“I’m so lucky to have you, baby.” Yuuji whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m never letting you go.”

You giggled, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him into a tight hug. “You don’t have to, Yuuji. I’m not going anywhere.”

He chuckled, his arms instinctively wrapping around you in return, pulling you even closer. “Good. Because I think I’d be lost without you.”

“Merry Christmas, Yuu-chan.” You smiled at him.

He grinned at you, taking to embracing you. “Merry Christmas, baby!"

[jakeswifeyyy]

(An anon had asked about heeseung + overstimulation but clumsy me deleted it but here's just a drabble for the ask,really sorry to the anon)

Warnings:Pussy drunk hee,cunnilingus,mentions of masturbation(m),overstimulation,mention of p in v(no actual),pet names,kinky shi.

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

Heeseung definitely is the type when eating your pretty cunt out making you cum multiple times from it nearly 4 times in the past hour,he practically worships pussy,his perfect nose perfectly hitting your swollen clit.

"Yeah baby ? Wanna cum,I feel you clenching around my tongue so...cum for me slut,just one more time baby,"

Riding out your high with his tongue.He continued tongue fucking you through your orgasm while aggressively shaking his head ,his nose bumping on your clit as you tried pulling his face off.

"Hee...fuckk enough please," He just shook his head he'd told you the past 3 times would be the last time.

"Baby you know how much I'm a sucker for this pussy," Now slapping your throbbing swollen clit aa you squirmed under him,your wetness spreading everywhere as he slapped lightly on your bud.

"H-hee fuck please.." Cunt all swollen and red with your clit throbbing but you still wanted him inside you oh you were perfect for him it truly was fate.

"Want me inside this swollen pretty pussy doll?" He was smirking devilishly at you while staring down at your spent state,you just shyly nodded before he groaned,his painful election reappearing even though he'd already cum from fucking his fist aggressively while eating your cunt.

Safe to say he had a thing for overstimulating both himself and his pretty baby ,oh it was gonna be a long night ,something about fucking you while both of you were overlysensitive did something to him.

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

[tinycoffeeroom]

girlfriend of the enemy | charles leclerc

face claim: none ♡

request: here !

tags: max verstappen x reader, thoughts of infidelity, max sucks a lil in this i'm sorry

part 2 | part 3

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You knew the novelty had worn off. Max was known for picking up things that were shiny and brand new to him and dropping them without a moment's notice. You just never thought you would be one of them. The two of you had met in the paddock, you having been invited by your reporter friends. Instantly the two of you had hit it off, chatting the whole night and enjoying each other's company. 

That was 7 years ago. 

Now the two of you were attending the end of the race year celebrations but you may as well be strangers. 

He’d swirled you around his friends, eye candy on his arm to match the fact that his face was plastered across the entire room. After he was sure everyone had seen the two of you together, he subtly brushed your arm off and went to talk with Daniel and Checo who were standing by the bar. 

Taking a seat at one of the tables strewn out across the large dance hall, you picked nervously at the acrylics on your nails. Max knew events like this made you nervous, with the large crowds full of people you barely knew. At the start of your relationship, he never used to leave you alone, constantly having a hand around your waist or resting on your knee so you knew he was there, but it was as if he no longer cared. You hated this side of him, missing the funny and attentive man you fell in love with. 

Drivers passed back and forth behind your chair, often bumping it accidentally as they walked, too deep in conversation with their walking buddy to notice they had knocked you. It had been at least 2 hours since you had seen Max, having watched him stalk off to a dark corner with the two men he was chatting with at the bar. You knew you looked miserable, but you were so tired of hiding how you truly felt, how Max made you feel. 

A hand brushes the back of your chair as someone takes a seat beside you. A soft voice barely audible over the loud music pumping through the room, close enough that their breath brushes across your neck. 

“Not having fun?”

You jump at the proximity, whipping round to come face to face with Max’s longtime frenemy, Charles Leclerc. He simply smiled, either not noticing how close the two of you were or simply ignoring it.  

You’d come to know Charles through the years you’d spent as a wag. He was always polite, full of kind smiles and funny anecdotes. You knew he wasn’t a fan of these things either, choosing to excuse himself early, either with his teammates or Oscar whenever things got a little too raucous. His two closest friends on the grid, Daniel and George, were more open to the party atmosphere, often getting to the point of drunkenness where you had to mother them a little, rounding up the giggling boys and wrestling them into an Uber. 

You loved chatting with the group of friends, never having a dull moment as each of them tried to outdo the other with a joke or a roast. However, you were always a little more drawn to the Monagesque, finding his warm voice and awkward jokes lightened the tension that festered deep inside whenever Max abandoned you at one of these events. 

You smiled back at Charles in the present, toying with the Tiffany bracelet around your wrist. “Not particularly. Never really liked these kind of events.”

If it was anyone else who had asked, you would have lied. Various excuses of not feeling well or simply needing a moment to yourself, but Charles had never once shown judgement towards your lack of enthusiasm for these nights. 

“Where’s Max?” His eyes flick around the room, elbow coming to rest on the bar. He must realise his mistake straight away as he pulls away, the stickiness of the counter following him. 

You sigh, reaching to drain the last of your mojito. “Fuck knows. Last time I saw him was just after 9.” 

He raises his eyebrows, turning to catch the attention of the bar staff. “Another mojito and a vodka soda, please.” Turning back to you, he checks his watch. “It’s 2am.”

You return the eyebrow raise, welcoming the new drink he hands you. “Yeah, it is. He’s probably with Daniel and Checo if you want him.” 

You were used to people approaching you just to get to the other. Nothing new but it still irked you a little that you were only ever seen as an extension of the great Max Verstappen, never just y/n l/n. 

Smiling softly, he raises his glass for you to clink yours against. “Nah, I’m fine where I am.”

–

The hours passed quickly, the two of you hunched over the bar as you tried to make out what the other was saying over the loud bass of the music. You could lie and say your heart didn’t flutter every time he laughed, eyes sparkling as he listened intently to every dumb joke you made. It made you feel a little bit sick, the butterflies in your tummy stabbing tiny little daggers into you as you try to remember the last time Max had ever spent time with you like this. 

He was a busy man, with the racing and Twitch and the various other events Redbull required him to do, the two of you rarely saw each other. You tried to organise monthly date nights in order to reignite the spark you once had but every time Max texted that he couldn’t come, not even mentioning the word sorry, you felt a little piece of your heart fall away. 

Through some kind of sick manifestation, Max rounded the corner of the bar, flagged by a barely conscious Daniel and a still chipper Checo. 

“Charles! Nice to see you!” Checo was his ever lovely self, dapping Charles up and pulling him into a brief hug. Daniel barely acknowledged either of you, slumping into the chair on the other side of you and drunkenly resting his head on the back of your shoulder. Max was neutral, eyes darting between the two of you. 

“Yeah, nice to see you Charles. I see you’ve met my Mrs.”

You hated that term. “Mrs”. Maybe if he showed any kind of interest in actually taking the next step and marrying you after 7 years together maybe you wouldn’t mind. He knew you hated it to some extent, having used it often as a joke in media events to make you roll your eyes and send him a cheeky text. But now the word just grated you, imaginary hackles rising at his standoffish tone. 

Charles smiles at the two, briefly eyeing Daniel from where he was snoring on your shoulder. “Yeah, me and y/n have met quite a few times at these things. Normally when I’m too tired to deal with Daniel and George’s shit.” He aims the last sentence towards you, joining you in a small chuckle. 

Max laughed sarcastically, hand coming to grip your free shoulder. The strength of it made you shrink slightly, hating the possessiveness it held. “Well, it’s getting late, I better get her home.” His head nods down at you, the resignation in his voice a poor attempt at humour but it lands flat. 

Charles eyes him, then the hand gripped harshly on your shoulder and finally lands on you, eyes warm with a tint of ice. “Sure. It was nice to chat to you, Y/N. Don’t be a stranger.” He rises from his seat, hand raised to deliver a half hearted fist bump to Max and Checo before he disappears, swallowed by the horde of people still present at the event. 

You grab your bag as Max shakes the sleeping Daniel on your shoulder. The two of you work side by side to sling an arm of Daniel’s around each of your shoulders, Max thankfully taking the brunt of the weight. Silently, you make your way to Max’s car, humming at the drunken gibberish from the man hanging between the two of you. 

As you settle into the passenger's seat of Max’s car, you can’t help but wish it was Charles sliding in beside you. 

–

👤 maxverstappen1 Liked by redbullracing, charles_leclerc and 592,048 others

y/nstagram eindejaarsfeest met mijn lief en jouw wereldkampioen ♥️ (end of year party with my love and your world champion)

fan she’s so gorgeous, maxverstappen1 can you fight? ♥️ 39,927 others

redbullracing never mind the trophy, we think you’re the real prize ↳ fan damn admin got rizz ↳ redbullracing 😎

fan why does max never like her photos anymore i miss the “here before the dutchman” jokes ↳ fan they’ve been together 7 years maybe the honeymoon phase has just worn off? ↳ fan idk even when we see them in the paddock he brushes her off all the time  ↳ fan i thought we all agreed to stop prying into their relationship?  ↳ fan true but 7 years and no ring?? I’d have wifed her up immediately 

charles_leclerc si belle ↳ y/nstagram merci charlie :) ↳ fan ariana what are you doing here?  ↳ fan he’s been in her likes / comments since he joined f1, i’m pretty sure they’re friends ↳ fan he always comments “beautiful” or smth sappy on her posts… ngl i kinda ship them ↳ fan saying that on a post where she’s just called max her love… seek help ↳ fan damn sorry that i just wanna see her be treated the way she deserves???? She posts max nearly weekly and the last time she graced his ig was like 6 months back ??? AND he never likes / comments on her posts even when she tags him AND he ignores her in the paddock like all the time ↳ fan he’s a 4x world champion and the face of redbull, he’s a busy man damn 

-

-

Another country, another race, another day of Max ignoring you. You’d always been understanding of the fact that, as the current world champion, he had a lot of pressure on his rather wide shoulders. People called for him wherever he turned and he’d follow, giving piece by piece of him to whoever needed his attention. Race engineers, press, other drivers, even Christian himself. In the earlier years, he’d drag you along with him, hand wrapped firmly around yours as he discussed better ways to reduce drag or answer the same god damn question from the same 10 faces you saw at every race. 

Nowadays, he’d barely look your way as he gets out of the car, instead letting you roam around of your own volition. You often found yourself walking up and down the paddock, looking at all the other drivers who would throw a loving glance to their girlfriends as they rush around their garages, or drop a small kiss to the crown of their heads as they pass by to the back rooms or even something as small as readjusting their stance as they spoke to their engineers so they could press a thigh or an arm against their other half. 

So far you’d passed Alpine; exchanging quick hugs with Kika and Flavy before they went to the back rooms, McLaren; where Lando and you had exchanged a quick fist bump whilst you swiped away his questions about Max’s whereabouts, and Haas where both Kevin and Nico had waved brightly at you as they entertained their children on the garage floor. Looking up, you find yourself standing in front of the Ferrari garages. More specifically, in front of Charles’. 

Whether the halt in your footsteps has been subconscious or not, you couldn’t stop yourself from hoping for a glimpse of Charles. Flashes of red passed your vision, engineers and strategists moving amongst one another like a well oiled machine, but no sign of white fireproofs or padded red race suits. 

Sighing softly, you turn on your heels, ready to head back to the Red Bull garages where you’ll inevitably end up being forced into putting on a headset and a fake smile when it’s race time. 

Eyes focused on the ground, you walk slowly away from the Ferrari garages, not wanting to see all the loving couples around you. Only three steps down, a pair of race boots pop up in your vision, eyes trailing up until you meet Charles’ worried gaze. 

“Y/N, what are you doing all the way over here? It’s nearly race time?” His head quirks a little to the left, reminding you of an inquisitive puppy. 

It’s enough to bring a small smile to your face, eyes flicking over his face. “Hey Charles. Honestly, I didn’t even realise I’d made it this far into enemy territory until I looked up and saw your garage.” 

He matches your teasing smile, nudging his foot with one of yours playfully. “I wouldn’t say enemy, just unfamiliar.” He takes a moment to give you a once over, eyes clinging to the ever present furrow of your brows. “Where’s Max?”

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you huff quietly. “God knows. Last I saw, he was in a very heated debate with GP, something to do with the rear wing.”

He nods in response. “Does he know you’re in enemy territory?” He teases softly, aware of the way your expression darkened at the mention of your boyfriend. 

“I don’t think he would realise if I upped and left to be honest.” The second you said it, you regretted it. Charles has enough to worry about on race day without you piling your relationship problems onto him. “Sorry, ignore me. Must’ve woken up on the wrong side of the bed or something.” You laugh unconvincingly, trying to avoid his knowing eyes. 

He’s quiet for a moment, pensive silence spreading between the two of you. It makes your skin crawl, all too aware that he was probably already clued into your crumbling relationship. You wanted him to make a joke, to nudge his shoulder with yours as he quips about how you should join the other side for once. You wanted him to make you smile, knowing he’s been the only one to do so in so many years. 

A knot sits heavy in your stomach. Wanting another man to make you smile like your boyfriend isn’t standing 20 feet away. Another man who was the best friend of your boyfriend. 

Yours and Max’s relationship wasn’t all arguing and sneaking into bed whilst the other slept far on the other side, but the only times he made you laugh recently was in front of cameras, smiles too large and laughter too loud to be believable to either of you. 

With Charles, it was easy. Almost like breathing. He was still a little awkward with you, jokes sometimes landing flat but the way he would wince and chuckle at his own bad lines were enough to have you laughing loudly and unapologetically. 

You needed to get out of here before you said or did something you’d regret. Luckily, Xavi came to your rescue, spotting Charles out on the paddock and rushing over to sling a friendly arm around his shoulder. “Charles, vamos! We have to get ready for the race. Sorry to steal him from you, Y/N, but I can’t risk him sharing trade secrets with the girlfriend of the enemy.” He pairs the teasing jab with a wink at both of you, the arm hooked around Charles’ neck pulling him gently away. 

Charles’ throws a smile over his shoulder, waving a hand goodbye as he’s dragged into conversation with Xavi. You wave back, energy not quite matching his. 

It was a throwaway comment, something every team said when you’d chat with their racers, normally coupled with a squeeze of the shoulder or a friendly grin. Charles had even said the same thing himself two minutes prior. But something about it being Charles’ race engineer left a sour taste in your mouth. 

To Charles, you were just the girlfriend of the “enemy”, and that’s all you could be. 

-

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

a/n: i swear i'm working on a happier one for charles' monaco win buuuut before i spend another 2 weeks finishing this off - anyone interested in a part 2?

[motorsportbarbie13]

The Princess & The Pilot - Part 3

In which you sneak away to Monaco to see a boy.

Warnings: angst in the middle/end. swearing. a little spicy in the beginning but nothing explicit. Pairing: Lando Norris x BritishPrincess!Reader Word Count: 3.7k words

- The Princess & The Pilot - Part 1 - The Princess & The Pilot - Part 2 - Master List

"I can't believe you've never seen Breakfast at Tiffany's. That's like, a crime against humanity." You tease Lando as flop down onto his couch Thursday night before the Monaco Grand Prix.

You had spent most of the day shopping with your cousin while Lando had been in the paddock taking care of media duties. As soon as he was done though, he had come straight back to his apartment and you had slipped your protection officers to join him. It had been a simple operation, made much easier due to the fact that Alice and Lando lived in the same building and your protection officers were stationed downstairs in the doorman's office for the weekend. They only followed you, at a discreet distance, when you were out walking around.

Part of your shopping trip had included a stop at the grocery store so you could pick up the ingredients to make your famous roasted chicken with lemon butter penne pasta after being both shocked and horrified at the state of his pantry and fridge. 'I'm never home and my nutritionist makes all my food!' was his defense, which you understood but wanted him to have a home cooked meal anyway.

The meal had been a huge hit and both of you were stuffed as you settled down in his spacious living room for a quiet movie night.

"I'm sorry if I prefer Sylvester Stallone over Audrey Hepburn, princess." Lando quips, tugging you even closer to him.

He had been fully distracted the entirety of media day, knowing that you were somewhere in the city without him. The moment you had texted him that your plane had landed in Nice and you were taking a helicopter into Monaco he'd been distracted. Between your first 'date' at the pub and now, he'd only been able to see you briefly a few evenings before he had to be at the race in Italy.

Those fleeting evenings when he had snuck in to your London townhome through the back door hadn't been enough for either of you. The first night you had cooked him dinner while you talked for hours about your royal upbringing, his family, and everything in between. It had felt so natural and so easy, unlike anything either of you had experienced before.

On the large flat screen TV in front of you, the opening credits began to roll on one of your favorite movies while you snuggled deeper into Lando's side. With how busy you both had been the last few weeks, this little slice of privacy and quiet time had you feeling beyond relaxed.

While Lando had been in Italy, you had been busy with a new foundation that helped support families of children who had received a terminal diagnosis. You had started the foundation at the urging of your parents earlier in the year and while you had been hesitant at first, not sure if you were strong enough to handle such painful stories, you found yourself pouring everything you had into the foundation.

It had been something you'd gushed over at dinner tonight and Lando had been utterly bewitched by the way you had lit up while talking about your work. And now, as the movie began and the sun set over the edge of the Mediterranean Sea outside, Lando was finally going to get his hands on you like he'd been thinking about since the last time he had kissed you.

"You are such a boy." You say, groaning at him knocking your preferences in movies.

Lando reaches across your waist and yanks you onto his lap in one swift movement so quickly your only reaction is a squeal. "I thought we were watching a movie, Norris." You say, nose mere millimeters away from his.

His heated breath tickles at your cheek while his large hands settle heavily on your hips. "I can think of better things to do with our time, princess."

The scrape of his voice drags a thick line of heat down your spine and you can't help the way your hips roll into his ever so slightly. "Oh?"

On a whim, you reach up and bury your fingers in Lando's curls, still damp from his shower he took earlier in the evening. You scratch at his scalp, enjoying the way he shudders underneath you. It makes you feel powerful, knowing that just the lightest touch from you makes him putty in your hands.

Lando's strong fingers flex against the flesh at your hips as a gravely moan tumbles from his lips, setting your skin aflame. He claws at you, desperately pulling you closer while craning his neck to latch onto the sensitive skin at your neck.

He trails featherlight kisses up the column of your neck, dusting up your jaw, and finally lands on your waiting mouth. The way your body melts around him has him growing needier by the minute. A satisfied moan spills from your lips when his tongue slips into your mouth for the first time, the warmth from his body seeping deeper into your core. "Lan..." You sigh into his mouth, fully immersed in the way he tastes, dark and forbidden.

Lando drags his hands slowly up from your hips towards your back, finally slipping under the hem of the cotton tank top you're wearing. You arch against him at the feeling of his heated touch searing your bare skin while your hips grind down searching for the friction your body so badly craves from him.

Your hands are still buried deep in his hair when a sudden loud knock yanks the both of you out of the trance you'd been lost it.

"The fuck?" Lando grumbles, lifting your hips up gently so he can get up to answer the door.

Running your fingers through your hair, you sigh and flop back against the couch. The ache in between your legs throbs at the sudden loss of pressure from being sat so deeply on Lando's lap. The way you had felt his dick straining against his sweatpants had you craving tumbling into bed with him.

"She needs to come back down, like now." Your ears perk up at the sound of your cousin's voice.

Rising, you get up to join Lando at the door, running your fingers through your now tousled hair. "What's wrong?" You ask, voice still a bit husky from your make out session moments before.

Alice eyes you over Lando's shoulder, arching a perfectly sculpted brow at you. "Well, now I can see why you didn't answer your phone the first ten times Nathan called you."

"We were watching a movie!" You protest lamely. Alice scoffs and even Lando chuckles a bit, leading you to swat at him.

"Yeah, okay. Well, he's worried that you're in my apartment dead or something because apparently you haven't called your father or mother since you got here and everyone is convinced you're dead."

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, "Oh for fucks sakes. I am 25 years old for the love of God. Fine, I'll go call them now."

Alice shakes her head. "I bought you some time by telling Nathan you're in the shower but he wants to talk to you in twenty minutes. You need to come back down."

You groan, annoyed that your evening has been interrupted by your parents weird need to know exactly where you are. You know that your safety is of the utmost importance to everyone around you and that yours was a unique situation with you being the daughter of the King of England and all, but this was just stupid.

"Fine. Can you give us a second? I'll be down in five."

Alice narrows her eyes at you before turning her gaze onto Lando. "No more funny business, send her down in five minutes. I'm not taking the fall for the both of you."

Alice turns on her heel and retreats back towards the elevator before Lando shuts the door quietly, chuckling a bit. "Well, I guess our evening is over."

You groan, scrubbing the heels of your hands over your face. "I am so embarrassed."

Lando's hands land heavily on your waist as he pulls you into him. "Don't be, it's nice your parents are so concerned."

"You say that now." You warn, nuzzling into his neck as Lando drops a kiss onto the crown of your head.

"It's okay, really." Lando reaches for your chin to tilt your head upwards so he can look you in the eye. "Go down and check in and hang out with your cousin. I have a team thing tomorrow night but Saturday night, I'm all yours."

You stretch your neck up so you can dust your lips over his, humming a bit when Lando leans in, deepening the kiss. "Can't wait."

The paddock on Sunday morning was an intense hive of activity. Lando was with his team, preparing for the race and you were wandering around the paddock with Alice. Around your neck swing your McLaren branded VIP passes. All it had taken was an off-handed comment from Lando about how you had mentioned back at Silverstone that you wanted to attend a race and that you happened to be in town visiting your cousin to get Zak to call up your secretary and offer you official passes.

You could sense Nathan and Victor behind you, both of them not even willing to entertain the possibility of you going to the race alone. You were used to it though and the four PO's that had travelled with you had been with you for years, so you all worked really well together. They, for the most part, left you alone and kept their distance. Just like Lando in the pub that first night, most people never even noticed that you had body guards even present.

The race is set to start in an hour or so, with the driver's parade already completed. You're supposed to head towards the garage in a few minutes for a quick photo op with Oscar and Lando, which should prove interesting. It was imperitve that you appeared to be nothing more than aquaintences with Lando since the public could not know about the growing relationship between the pair of you.

Relationships as a princess were hard. When you were younger, in your teens and at uni, you had been much more open with your personal life but a particularly bad experience with a boyfriend who only had wanted to date you for the clout, had left a sour taste in your mouth.

And there was also your parents to contend with. Your mother especially was intensely sensitive about any bad press the family might recieve and you had a feeling that a relationship with one of Formula One's known playboys was top on the list for 'press nightmares'

So, Lando and you had agreed that until you were sure where this was going, it was best to keep things completely private. You could appear to know each other in public but that was it. Which was fine with you because you knew, at the end of the day, that you would be the one going up to his apartment and spending time there instead of anyone else.

"Is that Lando?" Your cousin asks as you approach the McLaren garage.

You glance over and sure enough, you see Lando with his back towards you, leaning against the wall of the garage talking to a very blonde model looking girl who is gazing up at Lando with literal heart eyes. Your heart sinks straight down to your toes at the look of pure delight on her face. "Who is that?" You choke out, hands going clammy.

"It looks like...no." Alice murmurs. "That fucking git. That's Gigi Voss. She's an American model." She turns to you now, concern etched on her face at how you've frozen in place in the middle of the paddock just staring at Lando and the girl.

"He's brought her home before, hasn't he?" You say, voice weak. The intense feeling of embarassment courses through you. Alice's text message from weeks ago clangs through your memory. He never brings back the same girl twice. Well, it looked like you were going to be the next victim of that little habit, didn't it?

God, you were such an idiot.

"Well, I guess that takes care of that." You say lightly, drawing on every bit of training your mother has drilled into you since you were old enough to talk. The way you switched into public princess mode was effortless, a seamless switching off of your emotions to the outside world. "Come on, they wanted to get some photos of me in the garage before they head out onto the track."

"Are you okay?" Alice says quietly, as you pass Lando and the girl and head into the garage when you see Zak and Oscar chatting.

"I have to be." You murmur before mentally preparing to tug on that perfect princess mask you are going to use as armor for the next foreseeable future.

When Lando comes into the garage moments later, he's totally unaware to the storm brewing inside you. He politely greets you but is a little surprised when you barely spare him a glance, the cool nod you give him before turning back to laugh at something Oscar says has his stomach churning.

You continue to blatantly ignore him for the next twenty minutes and Lando begins to realize that something's wrong. He'd been prepared for you to be politely distant from him, with you insisting that you couldn't appear to be anything more than aquaintences in public, but this was on another level. And the dirty looks that Alice kept shooting him when no one was looking had anxiety curling deep in his chest.

You're standing to the side of the garage when Lando's finally had enough.

"Do you wanna maybe tell me why you're suddenly channeling an ice princess instead of behaving like my princess?" He hisses, voice so low that no one else could possibly hear you over the noise in the garage.

You simply regard him with a cool look, "Maybe Gigi would know the answer to that." You say lightly before pushing off the tool box you'd been leaning against. "Alice," You call, switching on that megawatt smile that Lando knows is 100% fake. "Lets go get settled in the hospitality suite, yeah? Good luck out there today, Lando."

Without a second look back, you flounce away with Alice's hand tucked into the crook of your elbow.

Gigi? The fuck? Lando panics. Had you seen him talking to the model earlier? Oh this was bad. Very bad.

"Alice, Jesus Christ just let me talk to her and I'll explain everything." Lando begs later that night.

He had been distraught the entire race and afterwards during his media duties, wanting nothing more than to explain exactly what you had seen earlier in the day. Text messages went unanswered, calls too. Even Alice seemed to have blocked him on everything so he'd been forced to just show up at her door the moment he'd been finished with his interviews. He had finished P4 so his time in the media pen and after hadn't been that long comparitvly but every minute that sluggishly inched by was a minute longer Lando knew you were spending angry at him.

Alice stands at the door, arms folded across her chest, glaring at the driver. "I warned her about you, you know and you had to go and prove me right. You athletes are the same, you know that?" She spits.

"It wasn't what it looked like, I swear." He begs, craning his neck to peer around Alice's frame to see inside her apartment.

"It's fine, Allie. You can let him in." From somewhere in the apartment, your voice calls out. Lando can hear the raw scratch in your voice, like you've been crying, and his stomach bottoms out. He'd really made a mess of this, hadn't he? He was sure the photos that some fan had posted of him and Gigi before the race hadn't helped either but fuck, would no one allow him to get in a word edgewise?

Lando's heart squeezes painfully when Alice steps out of the way and he sees you for the first time. Your eyeliner is smudged and your cheeks are flushed an unpleasant shade of red. It's not the pink flush that he's seen before, the kind of flush that he draws out of you when he kisses you. No, this is a painful, angry flush that's the result of too much anger and embarrassment.

"Baby." He pleads, taking three long strides towards where you stand in the middle of Alice's living room.

Much to his dismay, you back up in order to keep yourself out of arms length and shake your head.

"Can we go somewhere private and talk? Please?" It was a step in the right direction that you had allowed Alice to let him through the door, so Lando was going to push until he got what he needed to say out.

You nod, feeling stupid and silly for jumping into things with someone who wasn't on the same page as you. The text message he sent the day of his Miami win shuffles through your mind. 'You know I stopped looking at other girls the day I met you.'

What utter bullshit.

You'd been staying in Alice's spare bedroom this week so you lead him down the hallway towards the room. Alice calls out that if you need her, she'll be in the kitchen before shooting one last glare Lando's way.

Lando shuts the door behind him while you sit down on the bed cross legged. "So?" You look up at him expectantly. "You said it wasn't what it looked like. So, what was it."

Lando drags his hands through his curls, still damp with sweat from the race. "She wasn't supposed to even be here this weekend."

"Oh, so her weekend was the next race? Did you get your girlfriends schedules mixed up then?" You grit out, fists grabbing a handful of bedspread to avoid punching him.

Lando shakes his head. He wasn't doing a very good job at explaining himself, was he? "No. Fuck. That's not what I meant baby."

"Stop calling me baby." You hiss.

He looks at you miserably before shaking his head. "She wasn't supposed to be here because she's supposed to be banned from paddock access by the FIA."

"What?" You whisper, blinking up at Lando in surprise.

Lando scrubs the his hands over his face, wondering how this all went so badly so quickly. "We went on a couple of dates last year."

You hate the way your heart sinks at the thought of him dating someone else.

"And that was it." He continues, crossing the room to sit on the bed in front of you. He sends up a silent prayer of thanks when you don't push him away. "That was it because she started trying to soft launch us on social media. When rumors started that we were dating, she fueled them by liking comments and even called the paparazzi when we were on a date. I was nothing more than a means to an end for her."

Your heart tugs painfully at the thought of Lando being used for his status. You of all people knew what that felt like and knew how miserable it was to wonder if the person you were with was around because of you or because of who you were to the outside world.

"Lan..." You murmur, reaching out for his hand. He looks so miserable then, eyes shining like he's about to start crying.

"I broke it off with her but she didn't want to take no for an answer. She started getting companies to pay for her paddock passes and would show up on random race weekends. I talked to Zak and got her banned from McLaren but there wasn't much I could do about the rest of the teams until she broke in to my house six months ago."

"She what?" You gasp.

"Yeah. She somehow slipped past the doorman and figured out the key code to my front door. I got home at 2am after the race in Las Vegas and she was sleeping naked in my bed."

"Oh my God, Lando." Your head spins just thinking about what that must have felt like, coming home after what you knew had been a traumatic race in Vegas last year only to find someone you didn't want in your house.

"I didn't press charges in exchange for her agreeing to be blacklisted from any FIA events. When I saw her in the paddock today, I panicked. I didn't want her to make a scene so I talked to her briefly before going straight to Zak and getting her tossed out. You can ask Osc if you don't believe me, he was there. It was right after you and Alice left the garage."

Your eyes soften as you look at how Lando sits, shoulders hunched.

"I'm so sorry I jumped to conclusions." You mutter, the feeling of betrayal being immediately replaced by embarrassment and shame.

"No, it was a perfectly acceptable reaction. I don't have the best reputation when it comes to women. I know that but..." He pauses, swallowing the thick lump of emotion that clogs his throat. "But I meant what I said after my win in Miami."

You smile, already knowing what he's referring to.

"I haven't so much as looked at another girl since I met you at Silverstone. I swear it, princess."

There's something so raw and real about the way he says the words to you. Deep down in your gut you know he's telling the truth. You've grown up needing to be able to read people really well and you consider yourself a pretty good judge of character and right now, you can tell that he's being honest with you.

"I believe you." You rasp, reaching out a hand to twine your fingers with his. "Do you want to go back to your place and finish watching the movie we started the other night?"

"Does this mean I'm forgiven?" Lando reaches out and pulls you into his lap, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

"Yes." You whisper before finding his lips with yours in a searing kiss that makes everything else disappear.

Tag list: @shelbyteller @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland @chlmtfilms @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @lieutenantchaos @willowsnook @sltwins @linnygirl09 @meglouise00 @mixedstyles @strawberryy-kiwii @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies @mrosales16 @charlesgirl16 @leclercdream @eloriis @daemyratwst @dramaticpiratellamas @mochimommy2002 @bibissparkles @llando4norris @chelseyyouraverageluigi @iamaunknownsecret @maxivstappen @imlonelydontsendhelp @nina-or-anna-or-nora @a1leexxa @littlegrapejuice @sunflowervol18 @freyathehuntress @finn-dot-com @swiftie-4-lifes-stuff @chirasama

(Please let me know if you want to be added or removed!! ❤️)