#i’m okay! just sometimes it get crowded in my head

[paige05bby]

Favorite Crime

summary: A UConn cheerleader reflects on a forbidden, passionate romance with basketball star Paige Bueckers.

a/n: based on Favorite Crime by Olivia Rodrigo

warning(s): just tension & heartbreak (sad ending)

pairing: paige bueckers x cheerleader!reader

“All the things I did, just so I could call you mine.”

It started like every cliché I’d ever scoffed at—a stolen glance, a lingering touch, a shared secret. Paige Bueckers was everything I was supposed to avoid. She was magnetic, untouchable, the golden girl of UConn basketball. Everyone wanted her, and she knew it.

I wasn’t supposed to be different. Just another cheerleader she charmed with her cocky smirk and honeyed words. But when she kissed me for the first time under the bleachers after a game, her hands gripping my waist like she’d fall apart if she let go, I let myself believe I was special.

She told me I wasn’t like the others, and I wanted it to be true. So I fell. Hard and fast, like a freefall with no parachute. I gave her everything—my time, my trust, my heart—even as the cracks began to form.

“The things you did, well, I hope I was your favorite crime.”

At first, it felt like a dream. She’d wait for me after practice, her hair still damp from the showers, her grin lighting up the hallway as she pulled me into a corner to kiss me senseless. She’d sneak into my dorm room after midnight, her laughter low and breathless as she whispered promises I was too desperate to question.

But then the lies started. The late nights she couldn’t explain. The unanswered texts. The faint smell of perfume on her hoodie that wasn’t mine.

“Do you still talk to them?” I asked one night, my voice barely above a whisper.

Her expression was unreadable as she tilted her head, feigning confusion. “Talk to who?”

“You know who.”

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “You’re overthinking again. Why does it matter?”

“Because it feels like I’m not enough for you,” I said, my voice cracking.

She stepped closer, her hands sliding around my waist. “You’re all I need,” she murmured, her lips brushing against mine. And for a moment, I believed her. I always believed her.

“You used me as an alibi, I crossed my heart as you crossed the line.”

But the doubts didn’t go away. I started noticing the way other girls looked at her, the way they lingered after games, desperate for her attention. Sometimes, I’d catch her flirting with them, her smile just a little too familiar, her laugh a little too easy.

“You can’t keep doing this,” I told her after one particularly painful moment, my voice shaking as we stood in the empty gym.

She shrugged, her eyes gleaming with something I couldn’t name. “They don’t mean anything,” she said. “You’re the one I go home to.”

But it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough.

“It’s bittersweet to think about the damage that we’d do.”

The fight happened after the biggest game of the season. She’d hit the game-winning shot, the crowd roaring as her teammates lifted her into the air. I should’ve been proud. I should’ve been happy.

But when I saw her outside the locker room, leaning casually against the wall with that infuriating smirk, all I felt was anger.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice sharp.

“Thought you’d want to congratulate me ma,” she said, her tone light but her eyes serious.

“Congrats,” I said flatly, brushing past her. “You’re amazing. We all know it.”

Her hand shot out, grabbing my wrist. “Don’t do this,” she said, her voice low.

“Do what?” I snapped, spinning to face her. “Point out that you only care about me when it’s convenient? That you disappear whenever it gets hard?”

Her jaw tightened, her eyes flashing. “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” My voice rose, the words spilling out in a torrent of frustration and pain. “You act like I’m the only one, but you’re everywhere, Paige. You flirt with everyone, and I’m supposed to just… be okay with it?”

“You think I don’t love you?” she shot back, her voice trembling with anger.

“I think you don’t know how to,” I said, my voice breaking. “You love the attention, the game, the chase. But me? I’m just another name on your list.”

She stared at me, her breathing heavy, her expression unreadable. “You don’t get it,” she finally said, her voice cold. “I’ve given you everything I can.”

“Well, it’s not enough,” I whispered, tears streaming down my face.

“I hope I was your favorite crime.”

Years Later

The Dallas skyline glittered in the night as I adjusted my uniform, the sparkle of my cheerleading outfit catching in the stadium lights. It was just another Cowboys game, just another night in a life that was supposed to make me forget her.

And then I saw her.

She was standing on the sideline, WNBA warmups hanging off her tall frame, laughing with someone from the press. Paige. The same Paige. Older, sharper, somehow even more magnetic than she’d been back then.

My breath caught, my heart lurching in my chest as her eyes flicked over to me.

For a second, I thought she might not recognize me. But then her lips curved into that familiar smirk, and suddenly, I was 19 again, standing under the bleachers with her hands on my waist.

“Hey, stranger,” she said when she finally approached, her voice low and teasing.

“Paige,” I managed, forcing a smile. “Didn’t know you were in Dallas.”

She gestured to her jersey, the Dallas Wings logo bold on her chest. “Been here for a year. Guess we’re both in the same city again, huh?”

I laughed nervously, the weight of our history pressing down on me. “Yeah. Small world.”

Her eyes softened, the smirk fading. “You look good,” she said quietly. “Really good.”

I swallowed hard, my heart racing. “So do you.”

We stood there, the noise of the stadium fading into the background as the past crashed between us. I wanted to say so much—to ask if she ever thought about me, if she missed me, if she’d ever truly loved me.

But all I managed was, “It’s good to see you, Paige.”

She nodded, her smile wistful. “You too.”

And just like that, she was gone, walking back to her team, leaving me with the ache of everything we’d been and everything we never would be.

Paige Bueckers was still my greatest heartbreak, my deepest regret, and my favorite crime.

[trrsseea]

The Choices We Make

pairing: Bucky x reader

warning: non

Bucky sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his vibranium hand. The dog tags around his neck clinked softly as he shifted, the sound somehow heavier than usual. Y/n was in the kitchen, humming to herself as she made breakfast, blissfully unaware of the war raging in his mind.

It wasn’t her fault. She was perfect—kind, smart, patient, everything he didn’t think he deserved. But that was the problem. Wasn’t it? She deserved someone who fit into her world. Someone who understood memes without needing them explained. Who didn’t get overwhelmed by crowds or who could actually laugh along with her friends instead of feeling like an outsider in their world. He didn’t belong here. Not at this time. Not with her.

Y/n walked in her hair slightly mussed from the morning, wearing one of my old shirts. She was holding a tray balanced carefully in her hands, carrying a breakfast, golden French toast and two steaming mugs. I assumed one was tea for her and the other, black coffee for me. Her face lit up with her usual radiant smile, a look so serene and angelic that she seemed almost otherworldly.

She smiled even brighter, which I didn’t think was possible as she handed me a mug. “Morning, sleepyhead.” I looked up and took the coffee, but the warmth of the mug did little to ease the cold feeling in my chest.

“Y/n, we need to talk,” I said, my voice low but steady.

She frowned, placing her mug on the table with a soft clink. “That sounds ominous,” she said, followed by a light giggle, unaware of just how right she was.

I took a deep breath, staring into the dark liquid swirling in the mug I held tightly. “I’ve been thinking… maybe this isn’t working.”

Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?” At first, she didn’t understand, but then she realised it.

“We’re fine. Aren’t we?” she asked, her frown deepening as her eyes searched mine.

I shook my head, unable to meet her eyes. “You deserve someone… normal. Someone who understands your world, your jokes, your friends. Someone who isn’t stuck in the past.”

“Bucky,” she said softly, sitting beside me. “Where is this coming from? Did something happen?” She sounds worried and places her hand gently on my knee, her thumb moving in slow, soothing circles.

“It’s not one thing,” I admitted, setting the coffee down. “It’s everything. You’re young, Y/n. You have your whole life ahead of you. And I’m… I’m old. I’ve lived through things you can’t even imagine. And sometimes, I feel like I’m dragging you into my mess.”

She stops the movement of her hand “That’s not how I see it,” she said firmly.

“I know,” I said, finally meeting her gaze. “But it’s how I feel. And I don’t think it’s fair to you. You could be with someone who doesn’t come with all this… baggage.” I gesture to myself.

She stared at me for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, she stood up, crossing her arms. “Okay, let’s break this down. First of all, yes, you’re older. But that doesn’t mean we don’t understand each other. And you’re not the only one who has been through tough things. Everyone has baggage, Bucky.” She says firmly not letting her shields down.

“It’s not the same,” I argued.

“I’m not saying it’s the same baggage,” she countered, her voice steady, “but we all have something we fight.”

“No, it’s not,” she admitted, her tone softening. “But it doesn’t have to be. We don’t have to be the same to make this work.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Y/n, you’re too good for this. For me.”

She let out a short laugh, shaking her head. “You don’t get to decide that for me. I knew who you were when we started this, Bucky. I chose this. I chose you. And yeah, it’s not always easy, but what relationship is?” She smiled slightly at me.

I looked up at her, the walls I’d been building around myself starting to crack. “What if I can’t give you what you need? What if—”

“Stop,” she interrupted, sitting back down beside him. “What I need is you. Flaws, baggage, your dad jokes, and all of you. You don’t have to have everything figured out, Bucky. We can figure it out together.”

I was silent for a long moment, the weight of her words sinking in. “What if I can’t be enough?”

She moved to sit on top of me, each leg on one side, and placed her hands on my cheeks, her gaze locking onto mine. “Then we deal with it. Together. But you don’t get to push me away because you’re scared. That’s not fair to me.”

I stared at her, my throat tight. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Maybe not,” she said with a small smile. “But I’m not going anywhere.”

I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulled her close, and buried my face against her, inhaling her familiar scent. She responded by wrapping her arms around me, holding me just as tightly.

I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head. “You’re stubborn.”

“That’s why you like me,” she whispered into my ear brushing her lips softly against it.

Without thinking, I lifted my head closing the distance between us, and pressed my lips softly against hers. The kiss was tender, lingering for a moment as if we both needed the reassurance.

And for the first time in weeks. I felt a flicker of hope. Maybe we could make this work Maybe I didn’t have to do this alone.

[tojbnuy]

mini part 4 for gojo day 🧁 next part will probably be the finale. thank you for showing best friend toru so much love even tho he is fairly toxic. art by @ _3aem on twt!! part one part two part three

warnings: a very vague birthday bj, some feelings? MDNI

birthdayboybestfriend!satoru who waits with his phone in his hand ignoring all his other messages and skipping to your contact because he knows you’ll say it at bang on midnight. he is then smiling so hard at his phone suguru actually gets worried.

bestfriend!satoru who obviously has party of the century going on at his place. being the star boy he is, he is soaking up the attention. however he has been dyingggg for your arrival, he makes sure to tell every girl that approaches him that he is booked and busy for today.

bestfriend!satoru who tackles you into a massive hug when he sees you and picks you up just to make sure everyone else sees this. you’re wearing white (his favourite) and he knows for a fact you did that on purpose.

bestfriend!satoru who disregards everyone else’s presents for the time being so he can give you and your presents his full attention. unfortunately he is nosy and had scrolled through your google tab last week so he already knew what two of them were going to be.

bestfriend!satoru who (staying true to character) asks you for a birthday kiss. ‘can i have my last present now baby?’ and then he’s pressed up against you and his familiar taste is all you can take in. ‘toru people can see us’ ‘let them see baby’

bestfriend!satoru who wraps your ponytail around his fist whilst you’re talking. sometimes even pulling you back a bit so he can take a long inhale at your neck.

bestfriend!satoru who is actually very annoyed that he got a hot tub because now there were multiple gawking at you. suguru even wolf whistles at you at one point just to rile him up and he got a mouthful of tub water because of it.

bestfriend!satoru who catches you whispering to suguru and finds he definitely does not like the look of that. you had a worried expression which he made a mental note of to ask suguru about later.

bestfriend!satoru who casually gropes at your chest. (you allow him of course) (however you put an end to it when his fingers start to creep into the material of the lace covering your breasts.) (there were simply too many people present but satoru was content with just holding your tit) (stressball >__<)

bestfriend!satoru who makes his closest friends go round the tub and say what they like about him most. suguru is the only one who gives him a slightly heartfelt message, sukuna calls him ugly, toji calls him an airhead, nanami says he is ‘special’ (whatever that means?), shoko says he makes her want to smoke. and then it’s your turn and gojo actually tears up at your beautiful words. your voice and your eyes staring only ever at him saying that he is your person and you really do think he the strongest individual you know. (then he grabs your face and kisses you and the crowd boos until he stops)

bestfriend!satoru who is dead set on you staying with him for the night. ‘you’re not gonna cuddle your best friend on his birthday?’ and how could you everrrr say no to that.

bestfriend!satoru who has his head on your chest, you hands running through his hair and scratching at your scalp. his thighs are covering yours and he lazily kisses at your collarbone. the tension in the room is thick. you can both feel it. it was simply a game of who would move first. satoru knew you wouldn’t, always the more timid and shy one of the two so he took it upon himself to drag his fingers across the waistband of your shorts. ‘wait toru we can’t i’m, i’m your friend?’ god you were too sweet for this earth. ‘it’s okay baby. we don’t have to, but no one’s gonna know. just us.’ and he litters even more feather light kisses to the spot right below your ear until you were letting out soft little sighs. ‘then. then i want to do it, yk since it’s your birthday.’ he knew you weren’t the most conventional best friends but this, this was further than anything you’d ever done before. and he was on cloud nine.

bestfriend!satoru who was now realizing that he had never experienced true joy before this moment. before he had felt your velvet soft lips wrapped around his tip. your tongue licking at his crown so softly, so sweetly. he’s always been a moaner but now he had no shame in the sounds that were leaving him. ‘that’s it baby, just like that. that’s my girl’.

bestfriend!satoru who was a head pusher. he let you set the pace in the beginning but he was growing desperate, something he hadn’t experienced before. your little mewls as he holds you in place right at the base of his dick. your nose nestled against the faint hairs there, and your tears dropping directly into his skin. he had given you the chance to move but being the amazing best friend that you were you swallowed everything he gave you, even opened wide and let him take a look, that to make sure. ‘fuck baby that was the best gift ever’

bestfriend!satoru who snores like a truck directly into your ears and grinds his hips into your thighs whilst he sleeps.

taglist : @haruhatake @moncher-ire @startwithrecords @ranatherealestsigma @chjinua @sukuxna0 @suechii @whozeurdaddy @purp1eha1o @greensunflowerjuna @jjkysnk @tibibibi123 @missthatgirl @macchiatoast @adanfore @namjooningera @jaeminsmilk @tojicvmslut @hachichann

[skzdust]

Hotel Showers

SMUT. MINORS DNI.

This fic was a request from @chanchansgirly (here) and part of my 500 followers celebration! The request was prompt #1, only one bed, with Chan, NSFW!

I hope you all like it!

Summary: Y/n and Chan get stuck in a very cold hotel room together... and there's only one bed.

Pairing: Bang Chan x Flustered!reader

Includes: only one bed trope, handcuffs, fingering, cumming inside (PLEASEEEEE USE A CONDOM IRL)

Word count: 1.9k

Taglist (Comment on a post/send an ask if you'd like to be added): @weirdowithaphone, @caught-in-the-afterglow, @palindrome969, @skzstan12345, @katsukis1wife,

@hyunjinsjeans, @somethingkindazainy, @silverstarburst, @atzlordz, @jeonginsleftcheek

Network:@mirohs-aurora-society

Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!!!

Masterlist

-----

“Seriously?” You blinked at the desk attendant.

He smiled back at you apologetically. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’m afraid the blizzard’s got us more crowded than expected. The only room we have left does just have the one bed.”

You sighed. “Just give me the key.”

He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

You walked back over to Chan, key card in hand. “Sorry, it looks like they’ve only got one room left, and it only has one bed.”

Chan smiled. “Oh, no worries. It’s just one night.”

“I can sleep on the floor if you want. Or in the chair. Those hotel chairs are surprisingly comfy sometimes. I mean, sometimes they’re just not, but, like, this one will probably be fine.” You found yourself rambling.

Chan laughed. “Y/n, if you’re okay with sharing the bed, that works for me.”

“Oh—okay.” You could feel your cheeks reddening.

He turned towards the elevator. “Lets’ go.”

You went upstairs to your room, and you pulled a book out of your bag to read while Chan was in the shower. You tried to stop yourself from thinking about that shower, about the water running through his hair, down his shoulders, over his abs, and lower…

You closed your book with a sigh, opting to doomscroll instagram instead.

The water turned off, and a few minutes later Chan opened the door. Thankfully for your sanity, he was wearing a shirt. “Bathroom’s all yours.”

You smiled. “Okay, I’ll just be a few minutes.”

You went into the bathroom. It felt strangely intimate, erotic, almost, to be in a bathroom filled with the steam from Chan’s shower.

You started your shower before you realized you’d left your body wash in your suitcase. You resigned yourself to hotel soap before seeing Chan’s little blue bottle on the shelf. He must’ve left it there.

He probably wouldn’t care if you used it, right?

You carefully squeezed some into your palm. It smelled good, masculine and clean.

You got out of the shower, dried off, and put on a T-shirt and sleep shorts. You regretted your decision as soon as you stepped out of the now even steamier bathroom. “My God, it’s cold.”

Chan laughed from where he was sitting under the covers. “I was just messing with the thermostat, doesn’t look like it’s getting any warmer in here.”

You gave a short exhale. “Of course.”

Chan patted the sheets beside him. “Here, it’s warmer in bed.”

You got in bed with him, burrowing under the blankets. “I guess a little bit.”

“Can I help?”

“Can… can you help?” You were confused.

“Can I touch you?” Chan’s smile was soft. “Just to help warm you up.”

“Oh… um, yeah, please.”

Chan reached towards you, pulling you into his arms and cuddling you close to his chest.

You were sure he was able to feel your heartbeat, because you could feel it all over your body, especially between your legs.

“Are you comfortable?” Chan whispered.

“Yeah, I’m really comfortable.” You pushed your head into his chest. “You’re warm, Channie.”

“Channie?” He laughed.

“I— sorry, I just, like, a nickname, you know, like, how, like, friends call each other nicknames. You know, like friends do?” You rambled.

“Y/n, calm down. You’re allowed to call me Channie. I would even go so far as to say I like it.”

“Oh.” You could feel your cheeks going hot.

He paused for a moment. “Wait.” He helped roll you over, so your back was flush against his chest. You could feel yourself growing wet at the manhandling.

He pushed his face into the crook of your neck and inhaled deeply. You took a shuddering breath of your own at how his lips brushed your skin.

“Did you use my body wash?”

“Um… I forgot mine, I didn’t think you’d… mind.”

“I don’t… mind, exactly.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I think it’s hot more than I think it’s a problem. Which is, in and of itself, a problem.”

“Why?” You breathed.

“Because we’re sharing a bed… catch my drift?”

“I think you need to spell it out for me.” You shifted, angling your hips against his crotch. You could feel a bulge forming already.

He hissed. “Y/n, don’t tease.”

“I’m not teasing.” You whispered. “I mean it.”

You squeaked as Chan flipped you around again, and you were met with his piercing gaze. “You mean it?”

“Yeah.”

His hand drifted up the inside of your thigh. “How do you want it?”

You were a little taken off guard. “Want it? I— uh, inside me, I think.”

He laughed, then brought his lips up to your ear to whisper to you. “I mean, do you want it rough? Want to worship me? Want me to put you on a leash and choke you like a dog? Do you want me so bad you’d do anything for me?” He nibbled on your earlobe, and you shifted with a whine. “You know, if you’re into that.”

“Yes, Chan.”

“To which one?”

“All of it.”

He smiled, and you were caught off guard by his wide, ray-of-sunshine grin. “We’re gonna have fun. I’ll be right back.” He got off the bed, and you shivered at the sudden loss of his heat.

He shuffled through his luggage before pulling out a pair of leather handcuffs.  You didn’t even want to question where he’d gotten them or why they were in his suitcase. “You want these?”

Your eyes widened. “Ye-yes, Chan, I do want those.”

“Good girl.” He murmured, climbing back onto the bed. “I’m gonna tie your hands to the headboard, okay?”

“Yes, Channie.” You held out your hands. He guided you to lay back, and he fastened the cuffs around your wrists and then clipped them around the headboard. You tugged a bit at them, and you moaned when they didn’t give.

He just sat in front of you for a moment, watching you watch him.

“Beautiful.” He eventually mumbled. “Lift up those hips for me, and we’ll get your shorts off.”

You nodded, lifting your hips so Chan could slide your shorts and underwear off. You were soaked, and Chan dragged a finger through it before licking it clean. “Damn, all this over me just touching you a bit?”

“I— I mean, before, the shower, I was just thinking about— um, about nothing.” You stopped before you could make a complete fool of yourself by admitting to picturing him naked in the shower.

It was too late for that, though. Chan raised an eyebrow. “Were you thinking about me in the shower?”

You swallowed. “Uh… maybe.”

He shook his head, smiling. “You want me more than you’ve been letting on, don’t you?”

“Uh… maybe.” You said again.

His eyes raked over you. Once, then again. “Can I finger you, sweetheart?”

You felt a wave of heat rush through you, and you were hyperaware of your heartbeat again, pulsing through you. “Yes, please.”

He circled one finger around your entrance for a moment before beginning to press inside. You whined.

He paused. “Something wrong, baby?”

“No!” You squeaked. “Nothing’s wrong! Keep going, Channie, please.” You breathed the last word, and you were unsure for a moment if he’d even heard you until he hummed.

“Please sounds so good coming from your mouth, baby.” He all but purred, pushing his finger in all the way.  Your eyes rolled back, and a broken moan fell from your lips. “Say it again.”

“Please.” You whispered. “Another finger, Chan, please.”

“You’re asking so nicely.” He added another finger, as requested, and you arched your back off the bed.

“Fuck.”

“Can you take another?”

“Yes.”

He added in a third finger. You felt so deliciously full of him, and you absently wondered if his cock would fill you up as good.

He pulled out his fingers and licked them clean, keeping eye contact with you the whole time. His tongue lewdly lapped at his long fingers, making wet noises.

You moaned. “Please, Chan.”

He paused to raise his eyebrows at you. “What are you begging for, hm?”

“You.” You said honestly. “Want you, um, deep— deep inside me.”

“Shy all of a sudden?” He dropped his hand to your pussy, rubbing at your clit. “I’m gonna be deep inside of you in just a second, sweetheart.”

You pushed your hips into his hand, and he laughed. “Greedy little thing.” He pulled away to take off his shirt and pants, leaving him completely naked on the bed in front of you.

“Fuck.” You whispered. You’d known he was muscular, but he was absolutely gorgeous like this, sculpted like he’d been made by Michelangelo.

And his cock… he was big, and he was hard, and you wanted him so badly you were practically salivating.

“Can I fuck you now?” He whispered, his hands hovering over your hips, waiting for your consent.

“Yes, Chan, please, yes.”

You watched as he lined himself up with your dripping hole. “Ready?”

You nodded. “Mhm.”

You put your attention to his face as he pushed inside, at the way his expression went slack as he went deeper and deeper inside of you. You tried to reach up to touch him, but the cuffs rattled loudly.  Something burned inside you. The restraints were turning you on.

His eyes snapped open. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just… it’s hot, not being able to touch you, while you touch me all you want.” You said shakily.

He smirked. “Good, that’s the goal.”

“Can you fuck me now?”

He pushed your hair back from your desperate expression, gently pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Yes, sweetheart.”

He started to rock back and forth, and it took a bit of adjustment before you found a position that was comfortable, but when you settled into it, it was heavenly. Chan’s cock hit spots inside you you didn’t even know existed, and you were soon seeing stars. You gently moaned with each of his thrusts, the sounds of his skin on yours and your moans and his strangled noises filling the room. Chan was so good at this, so good at figuring out exactly what your body needed.

Chan changed angles one more time, and you were suddenly crying out with every motion inside you. “Fuck, Channie, that’s so good, don’t stop!”

“I’m not gonna stop, sweetheart.” He grunted, his hands beginning to feel up your chest. “I’m not gonna stop. You feel so good around me, so warm, so nice and tight, fuck.”

You whined, glad you were being good for him.

Eventually Chan’s movements grew animalistic; his thrusts shorter, tighter. “I’m gonna cum, sweetheart.”

“Inside!” You moaned. “Cum inside, Chan, please, please, Chan, please— oh!”

You could feel him cum inside you just as your own orgasm hit, and you twitched through it while Chan collapsed on top of you.

Both of you were drained. Chan unclipped the handcuffs and took them off, and you cuddled under the blanket. “So cold.”

“It is.” Chan wrapped himself around you. “What do you say we take another shower, together, to warm up and clean off?”

You nodded, snuggling into his chest. “Yes, that sounds lovely.”

“That means we actually have to get out of bed, you know.”

You gave a long-suffering sigh. “Fine.”

[littlelamy]

could you do one where rafe and reader have known each other since they were kids. where they played pretend marriage and rafe has always believed it was real even when they were kids and some girl tries to come between that but it doesn’t happen.

love your writing

a/n: thank you so much! I hope you enjoy it! 💗🤍

rafe cameron had always been a part of your life. from the time you were toddlers, running through your backyard with imaginary crowns on your heads, to the moment you both said your pretend vows underneath that old oak tree. you were six, maybe seven, and it had been all fun and games—at least for you. rafe, on the other hand, took the "marriage" very seriously, even as kids. "you're my wife now," he’d say with a grin, tugging you along whenever someone tried to play with you. you always brushed it off as rafe just being rafe.

but now, as you stood at another one of toppers' parties, you noticed something had shifted. maybe it was the way rafe had been more possessive lately, a hand always at your waist, or the way he’d glare at any guy who got too close. then there was jessica—new girl, pretty, and definitely interested in rafe.

“so, are you and rafe, like, together?” she asked you casually one day at school, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. there was something smug in her tone that made your skin crawl.

“we’re just friends,” you said, even though the words felt wrong coming out of your mouth. were you really just friends?

"oh, that’s good to know," jessica had smirked, and you knew she had plans.

tonight, you watched from the corner of the room as she slid up to rafe, placing a hand on his arm and laughing a little too loud at something he said. your stomach twisted, but you told yourself it didn’t matter. you and rafe were just friends—childhood friends with a long history of playing pretend, but that was it. still, your feet started moving before you could stop them, weaving through the crowd toward them.

“hey, rafe,” you called out, slipping into the space between him and jessica like it was the most natural thing in the world. his eyes lit up when he saw you, that same boyish smile he’d always had whenever you were near.

“there you are,” he said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder like it belonged there. and maybe it did.

jessica’s expression faltered for just a second before she plastered on another smile. “oh, hey. i was just telling rafe we should go out sometime. get to know each other better.”

before you could even process her words, rafe chuckled. “yeah, i’m gonna have to pass on that.”

jessica blinked, clearly thrown off. “what? why?”

rafe’s gaze softened as he looked down at you, his hand absentmindedly playing with the ends of your hair. “i’m already married,” he said, his tone light but firm.

you froze, heart pounding. "rafe—"

"we got married when we were seven," he added with a grin, not giving you a chance to finish. "i’ve been off the market since then."

jessica laughed awkwardly, clearly not getting the joke. “wait, you’re serious?”

rafe shrugged, pulling you closer. “dead serious.”

it took everything in you not to laugh at the confused look on jessica’s face, but the truth was, you didn’t know if rafe was actually joking. he looked so calm, so sure of himself, like this was the most natural thing in the world. like he really did believe you were his wife, even now.

“uh, okay. whatever,” jessica muttered, clearly flustered as she backed away, shooting you a look before disappearing into the crowd.

you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, looking up at rafe. “what was that?”

he raised an eyebrow. “what was what?”

“you just told her we were married!”

rafe grinned down at you, his blue eyes sparkling. “because we are. or did you forget?”

you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “rafe, we were kids. that doesn’t count.”

“it counts to me,” he said, his voice softening. “you promised, remember? you said you’d always be mine.”

your heart skipped a beat. “we were pretending.”

“maybe you were,” he shrugged. “but i wasn’t.”

you stared at him, unsure of what to say. all these years, you thought it was just a silly childhood game, something you both would laugh about when you got older. but rafe... he had never stopped believing it.

“rafe…” you started, but he cut you off, stepping closer so that his forehead nearly touched yours.

“you’re mine,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “and i’m yours. it’s always been that way.”

suddenly, the party seemed to fade away, the sounds of people laughing and music blaring becoming a distant hum. all you could focus on was rafe—his words, his touch, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world that mattered.

and maybe you were.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0

[princessbrunette]

so i know i always say that rafe is strictly a girl dad. well, he is. but sometimes i like to humour myself with the universe where he’s the father to the sweetest little boy ever.

the universe would be ironic like that. rafe foolishly knocked you up when he was 22 — the boy still having alot to learn. he was still walking around with that pistol tucked into his waistband, fighting pogues, mouthing off and going on coke rants. you had been terrified, wondering what kind of a father rafe was going to be — even when he promised time and time again, “i’m — i’m getting my shit together alright? i can, hey — we can do this? okay?” with sweat gathered at his hairline and tears in his eyes. thus, when the universe decided to play the hilarious prank which was having the doctor tell you ‘its a boy!’, your first thought was ‘shit.’

because he was bound to be just like rafe, right?

you had seemingly prophetic visions, a spoiled little brat — just like his father was, thundering around in a brightly coloured ralph lauren polo from the baby range, demanding the teet when he saw fit. a girl would have been fine — you’d seen wheezie grow up around rafe and turn out totally fine (aside from the likely trauma.) but a boy? what did rafe cameron know about raising a boy? was your son next up to become a drug slinging, pogue hating, maniac? (with no offence to rafe of course, you were unfortunately very much in love with him but contrary to popular belief that did not disrupt your common sense.)

rafe was over the moon about you being pregnant with a boy too, which did little to comfort you.

the anxiety subsided the second that baby was out of you, his sticky, slimy little body placed onto your chest with rafe crowding your space — his bravado dropped for a second to reveal a childlike awe. his own baby. you could tell it was only now that things became very real for rafe. his eyes well up, covering his shaky grin with an even shakier hand, saying stuff like “shit, oh uh nah i probably shouldn’t cuss infront of the baby anymore right? yeah… my god, you did it baby. brought me my boy. should be so god damn proud.” he croons as his hands dig affectionately into your sore shoulders, smearing a kiss to your sweaty temple. “ahh, aha — what the hell kinda man am i cryin’ at this huh? shit.” he sniffles as he wipes his eyes but you’re not listening. you’re staring at your perfect boy.

he grows into something perfectly reminiscent of both you and rafe’s features, all whilst smushed into the cutest baby you’ve ever seen. you were aware every parent said that about their child, but no — you were certain. he was pampers commercial level cute. ‘top ten cutest babies’ buzzfeed article level cute. sarah would often hold him to her chest and something would be healed as she’d whisper “i can’t believe you came from my brother.” into his wispy hair. he was a true blessing.

with big doe eyes that took up half his face and an appearance that somehow replicated a baby lamb that had been turned into a human on the basis of a magical spell — you had long forgotten about your worries regarding having a boy.

a few years down the line and not much has changed. your baby boy is three years old, chubby fists clutching his empty plastic lightening mcqueen plate as he toddles out onto the porch where rafe sits spread out opposite barry, sipping on a can of beer in the early evening. your son is distracted by a decorative plant, and the two men pay him no mind as they continue talk.

“but — but that’s the thing, right, barry? i dont do that shit anymore and… and i sure as hell am not looking to start again.”

“man i get that rafe you a father now, all serious and shit but think about the money. you thinkin’ with your husband head and not with your cameron head. your daddy was a piece of shit but he had that business mindset that you gotta adopt, bro.”

rafe’s expression flattens, finishing his can before leaning forward onto his elbows. “well uh, newsflash — i don’t wanna be anything like my dad. now if we’re done here…” rafes attention is caught by the mini him waddling into view, holding his plate infront of him.

“more please?” comes the sweetest voice in the world, blinking up at the man he viewed as his entire universe, much like you at times.

“finished your icecream already huh? where’s your mom?” he cranes round, but doesn’t bother searching much further when he hears the padding of your footsteps.

“aye buddy, you know we was just talkin’ about you.” barry leans forward with a smarmy grin and your son gets shy, lifting his shoulders practically to his ears and looking down, glueing himself to rafes leg.

“conversations done, actually.” rafe reminds him, lifting the boy to sit on his hip as he hoists himself to stand. as he does so, you appear in the doorway to the patio— sundress clad belly swollen with another baby.

“rafe could you bring him in? it’s too hot out there for him without his hat.” you furrow your eyebrows, deciding to ignore barry’s presence all together, which of course doesn’t stop him from conversing.

“shit, i ain’t seen you in a while mama. he got you again? you two stay busy, huh?” rafes oldest ‘friend’ chuckles, gold tooth glinting in the sun light, and like your only child — you shy away, sending rafe a parting glance that said ‘just hurry up and rid of him.’

rafe adjusts the baby boy on his hip, now staring down at barry.

“talk to my girl again n’i’ll bring out the old me alright, you don’t want that. go do somethin’ barry, i don’t care what it is just get off my goddamn property yeah?” rafe drawls tiredly, crushing the can in his hand and dropping it carelessly into the wastebin beside barry before heading inside, your son turning to stare sweetly at the dark haired man over his dads shoulder, offering a sticky, wide fingered salute in parting.

atleast rafe was still his usual charming self, son or not.

[felibrary]

CHRONICLES OF A LOVESTRUCK BOY

PAIRING: rin itoshi x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS: rin doesn’t care how he’s perceived by others—aloof, cold, grumpy—you name it. but deep down, rin itoshi, is no better than an immature teenage boy, especially when you’re around and rin realizes that maybe sometimes it’s still okay to be a kid.

wordcount: 0.7k | content & warnings: established relationship, fluff, very light angst if you squint, rin and reader are head over heels for each other (boo cheesy) ; drabble

art credits: sono_Zha on X!

author's note: i still didnt watch bllk season 2 LMFAO and uhm sorry for the writing hiatus...but hey..i'm back!! (hopefully) only thing i saw was rin with his tongue stuck out #callmewhatyouwantcallmewhatyouneed

“do i seriously have to wear this?” rin grumbles. you look behind and catch a glimpse of his unimpressed cerulean eyes, directly staring at you, and you can’t help but chuckle. but neither his sour expression nor his rosy-tinted cheeks caught your attention—no, it was the small christmas tree hair clip that clipped his fringe back. 

rin’s hair wasn’t short enough to rest on his forehead without covering his eyes, nor was it long enough to tuck behind his ears. your solution? buy your boyfriend a hair clip as a gift. to say that rin was happy about the gift would be an understatement. no, really. he was beyond excited—over the moon even.

(as you handed him the wrapped gift you were already cracking a laugh, and seeing rin’s disbelieving face as he opened it, made you burst into laughter—from there on rin stared at you for 5 minutes, not saying a single word.)

“come on “mr. rin goes to uni and leaves with a complaint-degree-itoshi” it’s cute. don’t lie.” you chide gleefully. “if you play another one of these word games, i’m gonna leave.” rin states nonchalantly, avoiding your gaze. 

the both of you know that he isn’t being serious, still, you play along. “you wouldn’t dare,” you express dramatically as you try to stifle your laughter. rin looks back at you and his eyes soften. “‘cause you love me too much to ever leave me or am i wrong?” and for the first time this evening, rin cracks a small smile. the gesture is followed by the shake of his head and grabbing your hand to drag you to the photo booth. “let’s go.”

you trail after him, and feel how his hand squeezes yours tighter. it’s his version of telling you that you shouldn’t get lost in the crowd and should stay by his side. instead of walking slightly behind rin, you catch up to him and now walk next to him. 

“rin, you haven’t answered my question from before,” you mention, and rin halts, slightly tilting his head like a small confused pup which makes you smile. before you know it, his eyes are gleaming and he lets out a small sigh of relief. “there’s no need for me to answer a question to which you already know my response.” your smile widens, and rin continues to guide you through the crowd.

arriving at the photo booth, you signal rin to slightly lean down and he complies. you reach out your hand and brush the snow out of his hair. “there, looking pretty as always.” you compliment him, and rin shakes his head.  “says you,” and you chuckle before getting into the photo booth. 

there’s four pictures for each strip, so you and rin make the best out of it. the poses range from goofing around, leaning one’s head on the shoulder, or a kiss on the cheek. after the pictures were done printing you took them out and proudly showed them to him. 

seeing how joyous and excited you were for a mere photo strip made him feel warm. it wasn’t that he was against taking pictures with you, no, in fact, he loved it. your smile was always contagious and you were beaming from ear to ear that even rin couldn’t help but smile. 

the reason why he didn’t want to take the pictures or at least avoid looking at them after they were done printing was because of him wearing the hair clip. it wasn’t that he disliked your gift, but he just looked like someone he didn’t want to. rin was scared that when he’d look at the pictures it wasn’t him you were standing next to but his brother.  

you knew that rin had a rivalry with his brother going on—become the best striker in the world to prove to him that he can do it without sae. but he never went into detail about how sae’s absence affected him, how whenever he stared into the mirror and clipped his hair back, it wasn’t his reflection that stared back but the one from his brothers.

but how could he ever think that when you’re here, laughing over how cute he looked and that he should wear it more often? is this what people mean when they say that they’re going to miss a moment they’re currently experiencing?

the cold, everlasting winter leaves behind layers of snow that stick and cover the ground as a whole before melting into puddles of water when the sun appears behind the clouds, granting its rays to the earth and sending its warmth to those who are stuck in capsules of melancholy. 

for rin there’s no more precious gift than you.

additional: a few weeks later you visit rin, and spot the photo strip glued to his mirror and you can’t help but crack a small smile.

tags: if there's been one thing i've been continuously doing this year its writing @azullumi a small note under each of my works. hello beloved <3 i'm actually not quite sure if you're into blue lock, but HELP RECENTLY I CAME ACROSS A TIKTOK ON MY FYP OF A MICHAEL KAISER EDIT AND THE INTRO WAS A FANART OF PREGNANT DEKU AND BAKUGO I THINK??? AND U REPOSTED I THOUGHT 😭😭 but anyway, its hard to believe that this year is almost over but what it's harder to believe is that i was able to grow and blossom so much as a person this year—all thanks to you. you're the friendship that i needed that i gained this year. you hold such a precious place in my heart that i fear if you'd ever leave it'd feel like a piece of my heart were missing. i don't know how i was supposed to survive this year without you. you were there for me when i was at my lowest mentally but also at my peak of writing HAHAH. you were always my number one supporter which I'm beyond grateful for. when i met you, i was surprised at how easily a person was able to understand and sympathise with me because I've always felt hard to understand but you—you made it seem so natural. you loved me as if it were in your nature to love me. and the same goes from me to you. loving you comes as easy as breathing, azul. i love you. wishing you lots of strength for the new year xx (no we're not together.)

© FELIBRARY 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms or feeding them to ai is not permitted.

[shybluebirdninja]

A Long Road

Summary: Logan, old and insecure, finds comfort in the warmth of his younger girlfriend despite whispers of doubt from others.

(Oldman!Logan Howlett x Younger!Gf-Reader)

Logan’s POV

The coffee shop wasn’t too crowded, but it wasn’t empty, either. Enough people for a few glances to find their way over to us—for the murmurs, the curious looks.

I sat across from her, trying to look comfortable while stirring a cup of black coffee that’d gone cold ages ago. She had some fancy latte with cinnamon sprinkled on top—whatever they do to drinks now—and damn if it didn’t suit her. That sweet, new taste on her lips seemed right. Meanwhile, there I was, sticking to my usual, too set in my ways to try anything else.

But that wasn’t what was getting to me. It was the people. Or maybe it was just me. Seeing the way they looked at her, then looked at me, wondering what the hell she was doing here with a guy like me.

Some guy at a corner table gave me a quick up-and-down glance, as if he thought I wouldn’t notice. The words nearly spilled out, some snap about minding his own business. But she was scanning the pastry menu, her eyes bright, so I bit it back. Didn’t want to wreck her day.

“Babe, you wanna try one of these?” she asked, her finger tracing the list of pastries. There was a glint in her eye, all excitement over something simple—an apple twist or whatever fancy name it had.

I forced a smile, grumbling under my breath. “Eh, coffee’s enough for me, sweetheart.”

She just laughed, nudging her coffee cup forward, insisting. “Come on. Live a little. It’s apple cinnamon. You might like it.”

I rolled my eyes but took a reluctant sip, letting the cinnamon and sugar coat my mouth. It was...fine, but it wasn’t me. I grunted in approval, handing the cup back, catching her watching me like she found it all adorable or something. I tried to act casual, but it only made me feel more... out of place.

Across the room, two people whispered, stealing glances our way. Couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I could guess. ‘Serious? Those two? Must be her dad. No way they’re together.’ Their words hung in the air, even if they hadn’t said a damn thing.

“Hey, uh...maybe we should get outta here,” I mumbled, tugging my jacket off the back of my chair, feeling the worn leather under my fingers. This place was starting to feel too damn small.

She looked up, confused but gentle. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, just... too many people.” I forced a shrug, standing up and trying to shake off the irritation clawing at me.

We headed out into the cool evening air, her arm brushing against mine as we walked. For a second, it felt good—free, just us. But as soon as we stepped inside the apartment, something in me cracked wide open. I shut the door, staring at the floor. Couldn’t bring myself to look at her, couldn’t explain the feeling clawing its way up my chest.

“What’s wrong, babe?” she asked, her voice soft as she set her keys down, coming closer.

My throat tightened. I couldn’t look her in the eye. “You know, I’m almost two hundred, sweetheart. And I look every year of it.” My voice came out rougher than I wanted, almost a whisper. “People look at us, and they think...”

She reached up, placing her hands on either side of my face, thumbs brushing over the lines and scars. The worn edges, the parts of me that looked like they’d been through hell and back. “Let them think what they want. It’s just noise, Logan.”

I let out a laugh, bitter and hollow. “Noise, huh? Well, that noise gets pretty damn loud sometimes.” My voice broke, my hand coming up to grip her wrist, holding onto her like she was the only solid thing in my world. “I mean, hell...if this is how they act when we’re just dating, what’re they gonna say if I...if I ever asked you to marry me?”

She didn’t flinch. Instead, she leaned closer, so damn calm, brushing her lips over my forehead. “Logan, I don’t care what they say. I’m here with you. I chose you.”

Those words broke something in me, something buried so damn deep it hadn’t seen daylight in decades. Before I knew it, my throat tightened, my eyes burning with something I hadn’t felt in years. I closed my eyes, letting her hold me, feeling the steady beat of her heart as I let the tears fall.

After a moment, I pulled back, taking her face in my hands, my thumbs tracing along her cheekbones, rough and calloused.

“I’m gonna mess this up, you know,” I muttered, trying to manage a half-smile, the sarcasm slipping out of habit. “Gonna scare you off with all this old-man crap.”

She smirked, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Then you better hold on to me tight, ‘cause I’m not going anywhere.”

I kissed her, slow, letting myself feel every second, every taste of that damn cinnamon latte still lingering on her lips. Holding her like she was the one damn thing keeping me together.

[sureallavnder]

stupid parties - Theodore Nott

p : gentle!theodore nott x anxious!fem!reader

s : slytherin always throw the noisiest, stupidest parties and even though you were sorted into said house you cant normally handle them as things get intense

w : fluff, shaking, google translated italian, theo being a softie, not proofread

a/n : just a softie theo moment don’t ask me how i got this out but not my 200 follower fic

prompt : person b holding person a’s hand while shaking

You were dreading tonight.

As per usual for the slytherin quidditch team they decided to throw a massive party to celebrate their 5th win of the season.

Something you always struggled with was crowds and noise and lucky for you, you got sorted into the house who throws the loudest, craziest, most unhelpful (in your words) parties.

Theo knew this and always made sure to keep you calm and safe even when he sometimes wished he was partying as it was one of his favourite hobbies.

You and Theo had been dating since he asked you to the Yule Ball in 4th year. But as most, you had crushes on each other since 3rd, and maybe just maybe there was some kind of connection from when you first met. Although you didn’t get close until Christmas break of your 2nd year when you both stayed behind at Hogwarts.

Your family had decided it was best for you to stay in school and focus on furthering your education a little bit, but you always wondered if it was because they liked not having you around.

As for Theo, he never really liked going home. He’d lost his mum when he was young and his dad wasn’t the best of people, a death eater. So it was typical of him to stay at Hogwarts for the holidays.

Theodore Nott. You’re boyfriend of 2 years. He would always spend the party cuddling you and cradling you on his bed, he had absolutely no alternate intentions. He loved looking after you. This time was no different.

It was about 10 minutes before people would normally start to pile into the slytherin common room and just on time Theo came into your dorm room, scooped you up, and carried you to his bed, setting you down. He went and picked out one of his baggiest hoodies and helped you put it on. Guiding your arms through and pulling it over your head making sure you didn’t get stuck. He swooped you into a massive cuddle singing softly into your ear. Arms wrapped tightly around you.

About 20 minutes had passed and you could tell this time felt different. The noise seemed so much more intense and it scared you. That’s when the shaking started. It wasn’t intense, but just a little. It was noticeable to you and Theo.

Theo immediately sat up and turned you so you were facing each other. He held your soft face in his hands. He spoke in italian knowing it calmed you down the quickest.

“tesoro, va bene, starai bene, sono qui” he muttered desperately trying to help

baby girl, it’s okay, you’ll be okay, i’m here

He gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead knowing it’s your favourite. You smile lightly trying to appreciate the help he was giving.

Theo then held your shaking hands and traced his thumb over them to soothe you. You turn around so your back is against his chest, not letting your hands separate.

He places a kiss on the top of your head. Thankfully this calms you down enough to block out the noise of the party on the other side of the door.

Before you knew it, it was the next morning, you had drifted off to sleep in Theodore’s arms. He had layed you down in bed and wrapped himself around you. He didn’t let you go all night.

masterlist

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

Hello!!! I have a request if that’s okay with you. 💕

Would you maybe write a Spencer x quiet!reader? Where she doesn’t have the courage to talk to him because she’s too shy?

I don’t really have a plot in mind so that’s up to you!! I’m sorry I couldn’t come up with any ideas but hopefully it lets you write whatever you want. Thank you for taking the time to read this. And I read your other stories, you’re so underrated and amazing I love your wording when you write. 🥹🫶🏻🫶🏻

Hi Mary!! Thank you so much for your kind words c:

I did my best c: I hope you like it!

Round Table (Spencer Reid x shy!gn!reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x shy!gn!reader (if not gn please let me know, but I'm fairly certain it is!)

Word Count: 1538

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, but besides that none?

A/N: this was so fun c: i am really enjoying challenging myself with your guys' requests. hope you enjoy!!

------

You were an incredibly anxious person, which, honestly, was okay. You tried not to let your anxiety hinder your life too much, but like any other human being, sometimes it got in the way. It was frustrating, sure, knowing that a situation would be so much easier if you weren’t so anxious about it, but you reminded yourself often that you weren’t perfect, and neither was anyone else. 

Some people were afraid of heights, of the ocean, of needles. Some people had trouble going out into crowds or grew overstimulated in public places. 

You? You were painfully shy. There was always an adjustment period to being around new people.

Baristas, the bus driver, pharmacy techs, cashiers at the grocery store - you did just fine. But those were one-time interactions, brief discussions that you could compartmentalize. 

They came with a script to follow, with cue cards already queued up in your head as they occurred. You could put on an emotional mask for five minutes while the nurse at the clinic gave you a flu shot. You could smile and speak in your special voice labeled Getting Coffee, an octave higher than you usually spoke, in order to acquire your much-needed beverage. There was a clear goal in mind with each of these dialogues. Sure, you didn’t present as the most confident person in the world, but you always made it through conversations like these without stumbling over your words or being too terribly awkward.  

You didn’t succeed as much with deeper connections, with ones that took time to cultivate. You were a guarded person to begin with, with only a handful of people you felt truly close to. Vulnerability had always been difficult for you, but you supposed you were in the majority on that front. It took a while to become comfortable around coworkers, extended family, hell, even your therapist. You had to have time to adjust, to settle in. 

A lot of people in your life thought you were just socially awkward or even an agoraphobe, but you didn’t mind being around people. It was the intimacy, the connection, the having to give away little pieces of yourself, that made you anxious. It kept you from participating in conversations most of the time, usually only speaking unless spoken to. 

You liked your job as a linguistics and handwriting analyst in the FBI for that very reason. You didn’t have to say much  to people unless it was related to a case. With a clear goal in mind, a threat to neutralize, you could turn on that mechanical part of your brain that spouted off facts, information, theories. You didn’t have to tell anyone about your weekend, about your hopes and dreams or your favorite foods. 

You were consulting on a case for the Behavioral Analysis Unit - a serial killer who stalked his victims months before their murders, sending handwritten letters and using poetry to taunt them. Your supervisor had asked you to collaborate with the BAU, sending you to the sixth floor on your own. 

For the last two days, you’d been working closely with Dr. Spencer Reid - Spencer, he insisted you call him. Just a couple of years older than you, but still very young for his role in the FBI. He was friendly,  and very smart, and he rambled on about all kinds of things - 

Everything, actually. The Chinese food you’d had for lunch on the first day? He explained the origin of fortune cookies. Did you know their first appearance in the US was in San Francisco in the late 1800s? 

Pointing out a Dickinson line in one of the UnSub’s letters? Did you know only ten of Emily Dickinson’s poems were actually published when she was alive and the rest were posthumous? 

You often just nodded along and smiled, occasionally throwing in an oh, that’s very interesting to appear as an active listener. And you were an active listener. You did genuinely think he was interesting, and you found his info dumps to be incredibly endearing. But your contributions to the conversation were abysmal in comparison.

Beyond discussing patterns in the UnSub’s letters and what it might mean for each victim, you had no other fascinating information to share. You didn’t do well with small talk, and Spencer didn’t ask you any overtly personal questions. 

It wasn’t until close to the end of the second day spent in the conference room of the BAU’s office that Spencer asked you a direct question about yourself. 

There were three evidence boards set up, all full of scanned copies of the letters, each one pinned up meticulously by you and Spencer the day before. The large round table in the room had letters stacked out all around it, each one bagged in protective plastic. 

Spencer was standing in front of the evidence boards with his arms crossed over his chest, studying the photocopies with his head inclined to the side. 

He broke the silence you had been slowly settling into the past two days. “Your supervisor said you had a specialization in poetry?” 

You nodded, stepping over to the table and carefully lifting one of the letters up. You liked how he spoke as if you two were in the middle of a conversation, when in fact, it had been totally silent for the past half an hour, save for the soft puttering of the air conditioning vent.

“Studied a lot in undergrad,” you squeaked out, clearing your throat as you held the letter up the fluorescent light above you to examine the stationary. 

“What university did you attend?” Spencer asked, and you turned your head to find him inclining his head to the side. He actually wanted to know? 

“I went to Bennington College to study poetry,” you said softly, suddenly finding it difficult to focus on the letter in your hand. “But I went to graduate school at Georgetown. Master’s in Linguistics.” 

“Really? That’s fascinating,” Spencer commented, which caught you by surprise, especially because he didn’t sound the least bit sarcastic. “That combination of degrees is exceedingly rare. Generally people who major in poetry often either go on to complete as far up as a doctorate in the subject or  they stop at a Bachelor’s degree. The latter statistically don’t end up working in a field related to poetry, either, so their degree is basically useless.” 

You weren’t sure if you were supposed to be offended by that, so instead you just nodded your head politely. “Okay,” you murmured, biting your lip. 

“Can I ask you another question?” Spencer asked, and set the letter in your hand down on the table. You smoothed your hands over the fabric of your shirt and nodded. “Do I… do I make you uncomfortable?” 

You shook your head. “No,” you said assuredly, and then, a little more hesitantly, “…why would you ask me that?” 

Spencer turned to face you. “You’re just very quiet unless we’re discussing the case. Which is fine, of course, but I just… I don’t know. I thought maybe you were annoyed by me or I said something to offend you.” 

You felt guilt spread over you and your cheeks turned pink. The last thing you’d wanted was to make anyone feel bad who didn’t deserve it. And the very kind, helpful, and adorable Dr. Spencer Reid was the furthest from deserving to feel bad. 

 “I just don’t talk a lot,” you tried to explain. Your hand rubbed the spot where the top of your chest met the skin of your neck, an anxious habit you’d had for years. “I mean, I do with people I know, and that’s not to say I dominate the conversation by any means, but I just…” you realized you were rambling. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” you added, your voice just above a whisper. 

“Thank you,” Spencer’s lips flickered into a straight-lined smile, one you had seen several times over the past few days, often when unintentional eye contact was made across the table. “For clarifying, I mean, that I didn’t offend you.” He cleared his throat, and leaned against the round table, standing just a few feet from you. Still a very professional and comfortable distance, but closer than he had been before. “So, does that mean that if we got to know each other, you’d talk more?” The corners of his lips spread out and his smile grew. 

You tore your eyes away from his to look at the letter in your hand, the protective plastic around it crinkling between your fingers. You weren’t actually looking at the letter, though. You’d just needed somewhere - anywhere - else to look. “That’s generally how it goes,” you murmured, biting your lip. 

“So, if I were to, for example, ask you to meet me for dinner sometime, could the getting to know each other happen there?” 

Your eyes fluttered over to Spencer’s and you saw him smiling. You could tell by how he looked at you, with his head inclined just slightly to the side, that he was being fully serious. You nodded, unable to control the small smile on your face. 

Spencer grinned, and you could tell he couldn’t resist when he spoke again. “So, is that a yes?” 

[sugarushwriting]

cherry popper

reader x jay

jay, your long time school crush

a trip between your friend group and his to a cabin in the woods

adult content featured, read at your own discretion

check out my masterlist!

“will you loosen up!” your friend, yuna, exclaimed. “we are here to have fun!”

“hard to have fun when it’s freezing, a snow storm coming our way, and to top it off, you booked a cabin on a hill in the woods!” you rattled off, pulling your suite case out of the rented SUV.

your other friend, sully, scoffed, “you need to leave those suspense books and movies, alone.”

you huffed crossing your arms. “how did you even know my mind was going that way?”

“because your mind always does.” sully replied.

“no it doesn’t.”

“yes it does.” both sully and yuna replied with a laugh.

you huffed once again, your coat not doing much to keep you warm. “when are these other friends of yours coming, yuna?”

yuna smiled big, “oh soon. they should be arriving any minute now!”

you helped the girls with their suite cases, bright lights coming up the icy driveway. it had began to snow slightly, and was thankful you all made it before the actual storm.

3 boys got out of the SUV. jake, sunghoon, and jay.

you gasped, nearly hyperventilating. “yuna, i will kill you!” you said through gritted teeth, and both girls just giggled. “why didn’t you tell me it was them three? specially, jay!”

“because if i told you he was coming, you would’ve backed out!” yuna sighed.

“you’ve had a crush on him since high school. it’s been three years and we are now third years in college. it’s time to make a move.”

“and lose that damn virginity!”

you scoffed, slapping yuna’s arm, “not so loud, would you?”

yuna just laughed as the three boys came up the driveway with their own suitcases or duffles.

“hi ladies.” jake smiled.

“hi jake, jay, and sunghoon!” yuna smiled eagerly, you and sully waving.

all three boys greeted you by name and sully along with yuna.

“i’m glad you came!” jake said to you.

jay added with a chuckle, “when yuna said you were coming, we almost didn’t believe it.”

“oh yeah, well, i didn’t have a choice really.” you mumbled.

“it’s getting cold and my ass is freezing! let’s get inside. there’s a fireplace, how romantic!” yuna clapped and you all followed her up the steps, careful not to fall.

well, you tried to be careful, but ended up stepping on the snow wrong, and almost twisted your ankle.

jay caught you, “careful there.”

“oh, um thanks.”

yuna unlocked the door, you all rushing in to the warmth of the cabin airbnb. you all awed in delight with how beautiful it was.

“how many bedrooms does this place have?” sunghoon asked dropping his duffle.

jay and jake immediately went to the wood burning fireplace to add the already prepared, chopped wood.

“3 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms.” yuna replied.

“three boys, three girls,” jay tapped his chin, “how are we going to divide it?”

“i vote jay sleeps alone. he sleeps with his eyes open sometimes.” jake shivered at the thought.

you and the other girls laughed. jay shrugged, not complaining to have a bedroom to himself.

“ok so jay in one of the master—,”

“why does he get the master?” sunghoon objected.

“because you and jake are getting the room with the bunk beds!” yuna laughed.

“okay, we can deal with that!” jake said excitedly, sunghoon chuckling.

children.

“the girls and i will share the other master bedroom.”

“won’t it be crowded for you three?” jay asked. “i can sleep on the couch—,”

“absolutely no way!” yuna interrupted. “we’ll be fine. we’re used to sharing small beds.”

jake looked at all you girls with a flirty expression.

“get your head out of the gutter, sim!” sully screeched.

jake laughed. “let’s just unpack and get ready for dinner.”

about an hour and a half later, you all had changed into comfy clothes, and made 3 frozen pizzas in the oven.

3 bottles of alcohol open—whiskey, wine, and tequila along with some seltzer cans and beers.

“let’s play never have i ever!” yuna offered.

you groaned. “that juvenile game?”

“and you have a better idea?” yuna narrowed her eyes at you, but you shook your head with a sigh. “no.”

“it’s settled then!” yuna clapped.

she was so happy and eager this trip.

jay watched you closely. he has of course noticed you around like the other guys have, noting how pretty you are, but you stayed much to yourself.

“i’ll start,” yuna tapped her chin in thinking, “mhm, never have i ever made out with a stranger!”

all three boys and sully took a drink.

jake looked at you and yuna, “really? neither of you?”

yuna and you both shook your head no.

“my turn!” sully said, “never have i ever, got a piercing other than in my ear!”

you and yuna drank to that. the boys raised their eyebrows at the both of you.

“matching belly button piercings.” yuna leaned against you.

“and it hurt like a bitch too!” you sighed.

“you still have it?” jake asked.

“i don’t, but she does.” yuna said. “my mom threw a fit!”

“can we see it?” sunghoon asked.

you shrugged, standing up showing off your belly piercing.

“nice!” jay nodded. “can i go?”

“sure!” yuna agreed.

“never have i ever had sex with a girl other than in a bedroom.”

“LAME!” both sunghoon and jake laughed. they took sips of their drinks.

“should’ve phrased that a bit differently jay.” sully laughed.

“fine, never have i ever had sex with someone else other than in a bedroom.” jay rolled his eyes.

yuna and sully took a drink, leaving you and jay out.

“yall are lame!”

“no surprise she’s not drinking.” yuna laughed.

“what?” jake asked and you slapped yuna’s arm once again, shaking your head.

“what’s the wildest place you had sex?” yuna asked.

“just a car at a park.” sully answered.

jake smirked, “dressing room.”

“hotel balcony.” sunghoon answered.

“hot tub.” yuna was the last to reply. “and sunghoon, we’ll revisit that balcony answer later.”

“we both know the last two who didn’t drink probably have only ever fucked in a bed.” jake joked.

“nothing wrong with that.” jay defended.

you kept your lips closed. jay looked at you as you stayed quiet not backing him up.

“don’t you agree?”

“oh, uh, yeah—um, i guess.” you shrugged, lacking the confidence in your answer.

“what do you mean, you guess?” jake teased. “don’t tell me—,”

“can we move on, please!” you rushed out. “someone say something that’ll make me drink!”

“never have i ever had a crush on someone in this room.” yuna smirked looking right at you.

damnit. you took more than enough sips.

each of the boys took a sip, you the only girl. “what, you both never found them attractive?” you stared at yuna and sully shocked. “or me?” you teased.

“so what you’re saying is you find one of us attractive?” jake grinned.

you looked wide eyed between the three boys. “i don’t like this game, let’s play something else.” you suggested nervously, gulping your drink, emptying the cup.

jay was wondering, who did you have a crush on in this room? he knew sunghoon had a small crush on sully, jake having a crush on yuna, sully, and even you at one point.

yuna pulled out uno cards.

“oh thank goodness, a normal game!”

“no way! we’re using this to play truth or dare!”

you closed your eyes taking a deep breath. “oh great.” you mumbled.

“let me explain.” yuna began, shuffling the cards. “if you draw a red or blue card, it’s a dare. if you draw green or yellow, truth. wildcard, you choose truth or dare, if you get any of the draw two or fours, then you pick a truth or dare and give it to someone.”

“what if we run out of questions to ask?” sunghoon brought up.

“ya, that’s what google is for! sadly i left my sister’s game. you know the one with explicit content and questions.”

“ryunjin is probably hiding it from you.” sully scoffed, sipping her drink.

“whatever, let’s play!” yuna pouted.

after another twenty minutes of truth or dare, yuna was tired of the boring stuff. you still weren’t flirting or making a move on jay. jake was getting annoying. sully was flirting with sunghoon, who claims so much she doesn’t have a crush on.

“next, you pick.” yuna looked at you with a bored expression.

you picked out of the deck—red.

yuna smiled wickedly, “let me ask you the dare.”

you swallowed nervously. so far, any cards you picked that were dares, the group went easy on you. but you could tell yuna was bored and on a mission.

“yuna—,”

“out of this group of boys, who’d you pick to have sex with?”

all three of the boys choked on their beers. “yuna, ya!” jay scolded.

“a little warning would be nice!” jake added wiping his chin.

your face felt hot. “oh, uh, yu—i don’t think,” you stuttered out looking between the three boys and yuna and sully.

“just pick one! not that hard!” sully smiled.

then yuna put you on blast. she rolled her eyes, “fuck this! who out of the three boys would you chose to take your virginity?”

you froze in place. so did sully. and so did each of the boys.

“yuna.” sully said through a warning tone. she can’t believe yuna outed you like that.

you swallowed, fighting off tears. it wasn’t like you were ashamed or embarrassed to be a virgin, but it’s not something you’d really want to advertise, especially in front of your crush.

you told yuna with your crush being jay, you wouldn’t mind he be the one to take your virginity. you knew he was a nice guy.

but you didn’t know if he had sex with virgins. or even would be interested in you that way.

“i need to pee.” you quickly stood up, running to the bathroom down the hall.

“not cool yuna!” sully snapped.

yuna shrugged. “i was sick of her beating around the bush. if i didn’t do anything she sure wouldn’t have.”

“well you didn’t have to out her like that.” sully pushed yuna’s shoulder. “go apologize, now.”

yuna looked at the boys who were quiet and felt awkward.

“maybe we should end the night. we have 2 more nights here to enjoy it.” sunghoon said standing up with a stretch.

the boys turned in for the night, and the girls went to the bedroom. yuna knocked softly on the bathroom door hearing you sob quietly.

“i’m really sorry.” yuna apologized.

you knew you would soon forgive her. yuna wasn’t a bad person, she just had a strong extroverted personality compared to you. sometimes yuna forgot you weren’t all about putting your business out there or being forward.

you soon came out the bathroom, giving your friend a hug, sully joining in.

“i’m sorry, i really am. it’s just,” yuna sighed, “i saw you weren’t going to make a move! at least now jay is intrigued.”

you looked at yuna like she had two heads. “how do you know that?”

“you’re a virgin, with a crush on one of the boys, and never answered that question or who you would choose to take your virginity.” yuna explained. “jay is romantic and polite, but he’s still a man.”

sully snapped her fingers. “i did see him sneaking glances at you.” she wiggled her eyebrows.

“no need to make me feel better.”

“we’re telling the truth!” yuna said. “trust me on this.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

around 2 am, you awoke freezing cold. of course you slept on the end, yuna and sully hogging the covers.

you got up quietly, walking towards the kitchen down the hall. you quickly made a cup of hot chocolate. while doing so, you noticed from outside, the snow falling heavily from the sky.

walking to the window, you stared up at the sky in awe at the gorgeous sight.

“pretty outside, huh?”

a voice startled you. turning around, you noticed it was jay, dressed in his pajamas.

you nodded to his question. “yeah, very pretty.”

he came up beside you, you turned back around to look out the window with him. “good thing we brought enough food to last us a couple days.”

“yeah.” you agreed softly. a cold chill ran over you, causing you to shiver.

“cold?”

you nodded. “sully and yuna are cover hoggers.” you laughed.

“i see you’re making hot chocolate. mind making me a cup? i’ll put more wood in the fireplace.”

you nodded walking back to the kitchen. jay put more firewood in the fireplace to get it warmed up, grabbing the extra blankets and pillows from the couch and setting them comfortably on the floor.

you brought jay a cup of hot chocolate, handing it to him, then sat down next to him, immediately enjoying the heat of the fireplace.

you both sat in quiet, enjoying the crackle of the fire, the quiet snow falling outside.

jay sighed deeply. “i, uh,”

you looked over at him, shocked he seemed nervous. you always thought he was cool and confident. the glow of the fire looked good against his honey skin, as his hands wrapped tightly around his cup.

“mhm?” you tilted your head, sipping the hot chocolate.

jay laughed nervously. “please don’t be offended.” he looked at you.

“i won’t.” you stated.

“i just—are you really a virgin?”

you sighed and nodded. “that i am.” you chuckled. “yuna didn’t lie.”

jay stayed quiet for a moment, calculating his next move. he didn’t want to scare you off or come off too strong.

“why?” you asked instead.

“mhm?” jay hummed, raising his eyebrow, sipping his hot chocolate.

“why did you ask if i was really a virgin?” you whispered out.

could yuna and sully be right?

jay scratched his eyebrow, then the back of his head. “it’s just, i don’t like questions left unanswered.”

“oh don’t i know it!” you chuckled. “remember senior year in high school? mr. youngin for once didn’t have the answer to a complex question and it drove you crazy?”

jay laughed remembering. “yeah.” he cleared his throat. “so i was wondering, um, actually, jake, sunghoon, and i were all wondering,”

you liked this side of jay, a stuttering mess. you bit your lower lip, fighting back a chuckle of amusement.

jay breathed through his nose, cursing himself for acting like such a loser right now. “so um, the first question, who in the room did you or do you have a crush on? and, uh, secondly, who would you choose to you know?”

you laughed, “no, i don’t know.”

where did this string of confidence come from? was it because jay seemed less intimidating than he does in the classroom? in an academic setting?

jay looked up at the ceiling, then back down to you. “who do you have a crush on and who do you want to take your virginity?” jay mumbled out quickly. “and please answer. please don’t leave me hanging.”

“why jay?” you asked seriously. “would you be disappointed if i said jake or sunghoon?”

“no, not disappointed. just, upset and jealous.”

you set your mug down next to you, grabbing jay’s chin between your thumb and index finger, making him look at you.

“it’s you dummy.” you laughed and kissed his lips softly, you both tasting like chocolate.

when you pulled away, jay almost looked like a giddy teenage boy. “me?” he whispered and you nodded.

“since second year of high school.” you confessed. “i’ve had a crush on you since then, jay.”

jay smiled confessing his own feelings. he hasn’t liked you as long as you’ve liked him, but he’s had a crush on you for the past two years, always afraid to make a move.

“yuna would punch us both.” you poked fun at.

jay had set aside his mug as well, leaning in to kiss your lips again. “do you want me to?” he asked against your lips.

“here? now?” you leaned away briefly, to look around the living room.

“i mean yeah. at least it’d be somewhere other than a bedroom.” he joked, but then cleared his throat, “but if you want to, we can go to my room.”

you’re starting to think yuna set this up in beginning—especially jay getting his own room.

“well it is kind of romantic to get my cherry popped by a fireplace.” you smiled.

jay smiled too, and leaned back in to kiss you softly. “i’ll be gentle, okay?”

you nodded against his lips, as he began to ease you down on the blankets that covered the floor. jay was careful to not bare all his weight on you, as his right hand ran up and down lengths of your side, goosebumps riding against your skin.

you then got shy. “uh don’t worry about going down on me or anything.”

jay looked at you like you’ve lost your mind. “i gotta get you turned on and wet for me.” he caressed your cheek.

you smiled shyly, “no need to worry about that. honestly been that way since you walked in the room.”

jay chuckled, “if you don’t want me to, i won’t, but i don’t mind it at all.”

“maybe another time? i—i just want my first time to be over. then you can take it slow if you want me a second time.”

“if? oh cherry, i will definitely want you a second time and more.” jay kissed roughly against your lips, appalled you’d even say something like that.

jay began to tuck his hand in your pajama bottoms and pull those, along with your underwear, down your legs as far as possible without breaking the kiss, then he did the same to his own bottoms.

“are you okay with no full nudity? still rather not have our friends get a full show.”

you nodded with a laugh. “yeah. let’s just be horny impatient teenagers.”

“i can do that. i—don’t have condoms, but i know jake does—,”

“absolutely do not wake him up!” you whispered. “how’s your pull out game?”

“well i’ve always used a condom—,”

“well tonight we can test it, if you’re okay with that?” you asked and jay nodded.

“yeah.” he answered softly. “just let me know when to stop if it hurts too much, okay?”

jay looked in your eyes, completely serious. you verbally told him you understood.

resting his forehead against yours, heavy breathing between you two, your face skewed, mouth slowly opening as jay push forward.

his dick meeting the tightness and resistance of you. you let out quiet gasps, as he slowly pushed in his tip, then inch by inch.

jay wasn’t lengthy, but he was thick.

your eyes snapped shut, your hands gripping jays shoulders, thankfully his skin protected by his shirt. a low moan of pain escaped your lips, mixed with a gasp as jay finished settling inside you.

he brought his lips down to meet yours for a rough, passionate kiss, almost as if he never wanted to stop kissing you.

jay used his tongue to distract you from your lower half and the stinging of it. he was still, dick settled into your cunt, which was pooling with wetness around him.

you didn’t even know you could get that wet.

just making out, while nestled inside you, when he felt you were distracted enough, jay pulled back slowly to push back even slower.

by accident you bit his lip. “fuck.” your head leaned back against the blanket, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

jay grabbed a pillow to place under your lower back for better leverage and for you to be more comfortable.

he sat up on his knees, your legs resting apart, enough for jay to rest in between them.

he pulled back out and began a slow thrusting pace, watching your facial expressions for any sign of extreme discomfort.

for the most part, you let out low pitched moans, and bit your lip. jays own mouth began to let out a few moans of his own, making sure to be quiet enough that only you could hear him.

other than the cackle of the fireplace and quiet sounds from you two, anytime jay pushed deeply into, your wet cunt made noise against his dick, it slicking down your behind, his balls slapping against your skin.

thankfully your friends were heavy sleepers for the most part.

jay leaned down for a different angle, his forearms resting on each side of your head, as his thrusts picked up in pace, the stinging pain still in place, but mixed with pleasure.

“fa-faster.” you grumbled against jays lips, and with no protest or hesitation, jay picked up this pace of his thrusts, the sound of skin slapping getting louder, but you both ignored it.

your friends being able to potentially hear be damned. they’re always in your sex lives anyway.

jay thought you felt heavenly, and was for sure hoping for a second time, third time, as many times as he could, with you. he would definitely love to explore his sexual interests with you in different places.

he never had any interest in having sex with someone in someplace other than a bed, but with you, he can imagine taking you against the kitchen counter, a couch, in his car, against a fucking desk in an empty classroom.

the thought only excites him more, and when he heard the squelch of your cunt, he was done for.

“shit, im gonna come.” jay whispered out, leaning his hand down between the both of you to stimulate your clit.

you’ve never experienced an orgasm in your life, so you had no idea what they felt like. all you could feel was your bottom half starting to become overly sensitive, your legs shaking, and wanting jay to stop because you felt like crying.

“jay—it all feels like too much.” you cried against his shoulder. “i—i can’t take anymore, please.”

jay with a proud smile, kissed your forehead, quickly pulling out, lifting your shirt up to come on your stomach. in the belly piercing he finds so damn attractive. his come perfectly landed there, dripping down to meet your cunt.

“sorry—should’ve asked where you wanted me to come.” jay sighed in content and out of breath.

you laughed out of breath yourself. “s’fine.”

jay took off your bottoms completely, but pulled his up. he covered you with the extra blanket.

“mhm, wanna take a bath or shower?”

“why? want me in there too?” you joked.

“of course. but you’ll start to ache soon, shower sex can wait for now.”

you nodded tiredly. “can i sleep with you?” you yawned.

“of course cherry.”

“mhm, cherry?”

“my new nickname for you.” jay kissed your cheek.

thank you yuna!

[prentissluvr]

hold me, it's enough — sam winchester

cw : gn!reader, hurt/comfort, established relationship, descriptions of physical assault, small injuries, blood, pet names (baby, honey), barely edited, 1.6K words. requested !

prompt : "who did this to you?"

MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!

the cruelest part about tonight is the way you have to call sam to come pick you up, like you’re some child who’s gotten sick at school. it’s embarrassing and makes you feel guilty because your call woke him up. he’d gone back to the motel early to sleep after a long hunt; took the impala after dean disappeared with a girl, leaving you alone in the bar with your own car in the parking lot.

he answers after four rings, voice a little husky from sleep as he says your name questioningly into the speaker.

“hey, sam,” you respond, sighing quietly to yourself, “sorry to wake you, but i– i can’t drive myself back to the motel… any chance you could pick me up?”

you hear the rustle of sheets from the other end of the line, and you assume it’s sam sitting up. “yeah, of course,” he agrees easily, already up and looking for socks to put on. you can’t see the light frown on his face as he picks up on all of the little nuances in your voice. “you don’t sound drunk. baby, is everything alright?”

you figured he’d ask, but the expectation doesn’t remedy your hesitation to answer. “i… sort of got into a fight. hit my head real hard and i don’t think i should be driving.”

the split second after your answer is enough to show you sam’s surprise. “jesus, honey, are you okay?” he asks, worry making his voice thick.

“yeah, yeah, i’m okay. promise,” you reassure him. he takes a moment to consider your words; whether you’re lying for his sake or if you’re actually okay. your voice is clear and, though a little tired, sounds like you’re just fine. you don’t seem dizzy or out of sorts, and sam takes that as a good sign considering it was your head that you hit. so, he relaxes just a touch as he climbs into the impala. you hear the car door opening and shutting through the phone speaker.

“so, you got into a bar fight?” he asks, a touch of amusement in his voice. he’s still worried about you, but that wasn’t news he expected to hear tonight, or really any night at all. sure, you never back down from a fight, but you’re certainly not the type to start one either.

you roll your eyes a little at his tone. “sort of. the guy deserved it. i elbowed him in the guts and he shoved me. he looked utterly terrified when i stood back up and he saw the look in my eyes,” you describe, humor finding its way into your voice at the end.

sam wants to give a little laugh at your joke, tell you that he can imagine the man running away with his tail between his legs just from the look in your eye, but he’s still stuck on the fact that he shoved you. on the fact that he did something that warranted you to resort to physical violence. 

he clenches his jaw before asking, “did he try to touch you?” his voice is low as he presses down on the gas harder.

wishing your comment about the man’s scared look would have been successful in distracting sam, you sigh. sometimes, sam is too damn smart and he thinks too damn much.

“he got a little handsy, but i took care of it,” you reassure him. “it’s okay. pretty sure i scared him off so bad he left the bar.”

sam grits his teeth, trying not to react too strongly in a way he knows you won’t like. “i’m gonna beat his sorry ass.” he settles for angry, but not too much, and not even possible since the fucker’s already gone.

“yeah, i know,” you sigh into the phone.

the bar’s only ten minutes from the hotel, and sam gets there faster than that. he walks into the establishment, eyes scanning the crowded place to find your familiar silhouette seated at the bar, your left elbow resting on the counter and holding a rag and plastic bag filled with ice to your head. he rushes towards you, swiftly maneuvering between tables and moving bodies.

he says your name a few steps before he reaches you, as to not startle you, placing a worried hand on your shoulder blade when you turn to look at him. he sucks in a sharp breath when he sees your face. there’s drying blood streaking down the side of your face, and your eyes betray that you’re much more shaken by the incident than you were letting on over the phone. he curses your talent in sounding much more okay than you really are. his jaw clenches and his eyes are worried and angry.

“who did this to you?” his voice is rough, the words forced out through gritted teeth as he fights to stay gentle. you sigh at his words, able to tell immediately how angry he’s feeling.

“he’s gone now,” you say gently, secretly relishing in how protective he is of you. you instantly feel safer, much more secure with him in front of you. “i’m okay,” you say, knowing he needs to hear those words. “i promise. you know that head wounds always look worse than they are. and i wasn’t lying when i said that my glare scared him completely off.”

sam wants to tell you that he’s going to find this sorry excuse of a man, that he’s going to yell at him and hurt him and show him how horrible of a mistake he made by messing with you, but he won’t say all of that. though he’ll certainly think it. he is thinking it. but he knows that’s not what you care to hear, knows that anger is not the face you wish for him to wear.

“i believe that,” he finally settles on saying, voice softening just a little. “let’s get out of here. clean you up. there’s blood all over your face.”

you nod. another time you might quip ‘i know. it’s my face, i can feel it.’ today, you just let him place his hand on the small of your back and lead you out to the familiar black car. neither of you have to say anything to agree that you’ll come back for your own car in the morning.

sam’s silence is large, and yours is heavy. they stretch alongside each other, running out on the road with the spinning tires and escaping through the half open windows so that when sam sits you down on the edge of your shared bed, they’ve almost run out. each silence lasts until he sits next to you, first aid kit in hand, and he gently cups your face to turn it towards him. your eyes are a little shiny, and his face softens.

“i’m sorry this happened,” he whispers. “i shouldn’t have left you alone.” that’s when it hits you how guilty he’s been feeling this whole time, thinking about how nothing would’ve happened if he stayed.

“no,” you shake your head. “no, sam, this wasn’t your fault.” your voice is full of conviction as you say this, because it’s true. “you couldn’t have known this would happen. you only left because you know that i can take care of myself, and i did. i took care of it, and it’s over now. and i’m okay.”

“honey,” he chides, wishing you’d admit to him how you really feel. though he might start crying himself if he has to keep looking at you with so much blood on your face, so he takes the wet cloth he prepared in the bathroom and begins to gently wipe at your bloodied skin. the redness comes off easily, but he still hates the sight of it on the white cloth. “just because we deal with monsters and demons and horrible shit all the time doesn’t mean that creepy, pushy men are any less gross and scary than they really are. just because you can deal with it, doesn’t mean you should’ve had to.”

you purse your lips, then swallow against tears. the feeling of that man’s hand grabbing your wrist hard is still so visceral, and the way that you’d been so taken by surprise that his strength sent you sprawling to the floor still makes you feel sort of embarrassed. and sam’s soft hands and gentle reassurances are so contrasting, so good to you that it makes you a little emotional. 

unconsciously, your own hand drifts to the opposite wrist where the man grabbed you, the sleeve of your dress shirt wrinkled and skin tender from how strong his grip was. the movement catches sam’s eye, and his gaze darkens once again when he realizes how you were grabbed. you see the anger and guilt resurface on his features and you gently grab his wrist instead.

with confidence, you guide his hand to yours and hold it there, looking him right in the eye. your eyes swim with faith and sincerity as you wordlessly tell him that you trust his hands on you, on the places where you’re bruised and bloody.

“it’s okay,” you say, voice hushed and assured. “this… it’s enough, sam. it’s all i need.” just these few words tell him that you don’t care that he wasn’t there when it happened, that his care and comfort in this moment are enough to make it better. that his understanding and worry and protectiveness still mean so much. that things happen, but you’ll be okay so long as he’s there to hold you in the aftermath.

so he does just that. he cleans and dresses your wound, and holds you close on the edge of the bed until you ask to go to sleep. then he holds you under the covers, pressing gentle kisses to your forehead and whispering sweet things, until there’s nothing but soft darkness and his touch left, and you’re asleep.

[skzdust]

Good Kitty

This is smut. MINORS DNI.

Request from @oo-li! Your request literally made me so excited and I got kinda self indulgent with where I took it lol, so I really hope you like it! <3 Also it's bouncy au. I have been so fucking obsessed with that mv recently.

Summary: Wooyoung thinks San deserves a prize after winning his fight. Threesome ensues.

Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x Choi San x afab reader

Includes: bouncy au, "kitty", pet play, threesome, clit play, penetrative sex, pleaseeee use a condom irl, face fucking, collars and leashes, cat ears

Word count: 1.5k

Taglist (Comment on a post/send an ask if you'd like to be added): @weirdowithaphone, @caught-in-the-afterglow, @palindrome969, @skzstan12345, @katsukis1wife,

@hyunjinsjeans, @somethingkindazainy, @silverstarburst

Network:@mirohs-aurora-society

Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!!!

Masterlist

-----

Wooyoung gave your leash a tug, nothing too hard, just getting your attention. “Baby?”

“Mm?” You looked up at him.

“Why don’t you start touching yourself for me? I want you nice and desperate once I’m ready for you.” He kept his eyes on the fight, but one corner of his mouth moved up in a smirk.

You sighed in relief. You’d been by his side all night, kneeling on a blanket and waiting patiently for him to give you permission to do anything but wait patiently.

Wooyoung’s star fighter, San, was performing well tonight, and based on how he’d been doing recently, you suspected he’d win. This would be a good thing for you, as Wooyoung would be in a good mood and might actually let you cum. Last time San had lost, you’d been edged for two hours.

You watched San punch the other guy in the face as you put a hand up your skirt. You snuck a glance at Wooyoung, who was leaned forward, his gaze fixed on the ring. “Yes, you can finger yourself.” He said dismissively.

Being his pet had its perks. You got a front row seat to every fight, and they were usually pretty entertaining. He spoiled you, got you nice things to wear. And the sex was nothing short of amazing.

You could barely wait for him to fuck you as you started to finger yourself, first one finger, then two, then three.

“My good kitty.” He absently patted your head, scratching your scalp. You whimpered, and he finally looked at you, smiling. “You like being my good kitty? Excited to get fucked?”

“Yeah.” You whispered.

“San just needs to get one more good hit in and it’s over.” Wooyoung turned his attention back to the fight. “And then I’ll fuck you so good.”

Your fingers, while no comparison to Wooyoung’s cock, moved faster.

San got his hit in, and the other guy fell to the ground, completely knocked out. Wooyoung jumped out of his seat, cheering. He looked at you, handing you the leash. “You can go to the bedroom. I expect you to be all ready by the time I get there.”

You nodded, your eyes lighting up.

You walked through the crowd to the little back door that led to Wooyoung’s room. It was a tidy little room, with a big bed and a nightstand holding enough sex toys to occupy a small army.

You shut the door and pulled one of the nightstand drawers out to get out a little set of cat ears that you clipped into your hair. You took off your top and skirt and spread yourself out on the bed.

When the door opened, it wasn’t just Wooyoung who walked in. San was slightly bloody, dirty, and sweaty, but fuck, he was hot. He smiled at you, his eyes raking down your body.

“Since San won tonight, I thought I’d give him a little reward.” Wooyoung smirked. “You’re okay with that, right, kitty?”

You nodded, your eyes wide. You loved when San joined you. Sometimes Wooyoung treated him like a dom on equal footing, and sometimes he was a pet along with you. It was always different, but Wooyoung was always in charge.

It seemed tonight it would be a mixture, as Wooyoung pulled out a second set of cat ears and put them on San, but nodded at you. “You should be a good pet and fuck our kitty for me, Sannie.” He scratched behind San’s ear, and you bit your lip as San sighed, melting into Wooyoung’s touch. “You were so good for me tonight, I think you deserve a nice tight hole to fuck into.”

You whined, but didn’t say anything. You knew when you were Wooyoung’s pet you’d be punished for speaking, and you were a good kitty.

San turned to look at you, his eyes boring into yours. “I’m gonna fuck you so good, kitty. Hands and knees.”

You got into position, and San fucked you with a couple fingers before lining his cock up with your entrance and sinking into you. A hand pushed between your shoulder blades, and you could hear Wooyoung laughing as your face fell into the pillows.

“Look at that arch.” Wooyoung’s hand ghosted along your back. “Such a perfectly submissive fuckpet.”

You moaned, as much at Wooyoung’s words as at San’s cock.

 San began to move, rocking inside you, his cock pushing deep. You could hear Wooyoung and San kissing, and you whined.

“Feeling left out?” San grabbed onto your hips, punctuating the sentence with a hard thrust. “I’d kiss you, too, kitty, but that pretty little face is pushed into the pillow.”

You tried to raise your head, get your arms under you, but Wooyoung just pushed you back down again. “Don’t distract Sannie from fucking you. Be good and take it.”

San fucked you with increasing intensity, until you were practically sobbing into the pillow, your fingers clawing, scrabbling at the sheets for anything to hold onto. Your legs were tingly, you were tearing up, you were a mess.

San was really fucking good at this, and Wooyoung moving around the two of you made it even better. At one point he yanked your head towards him and kissed you, hard, until you’d squeaked at one of San’s thrusts. He’d pulled away, and you’d been expecting a slap or something similar until he kissed your forehead.

He found your clit, and his finger began moving around it. His other hand fisted in your hair, pulling you up so you could hear him. “Fucking slut… good pet. Good fucking pet. You’re so good for me, aren’t you? Why don’t you hold back and not cum for me? Think you can do that? I think you can do that. San, fuck her harder.” His finger moved faster, and he moved in close to your ear. “Don’t cum, kitty, got that?”

You whined in agreement, arching back against him. It was so much sensation, so much stimulation, it was all you could do not to cum right then.

“Don’t cum, don’t cum…” Wooyoung’s voice lilted, mocking you.

You couldn’t stop it. You came.

San kept fucking you, Wooyoung kept moving his finger, keeping you stimulated through your orgasm. It felt like fireworks were going off in your legs, and you shook. They continued as you came down from your high.

Wooyoung clicked his tongue. “Kitty… I specifically told you not to cum. You’re gonna have to make up for that, you know. San, pull out. You can have her mouth.”

They dragged you down the bed into position: hands and knees again, but this time, you were close to the edge of the bed. San thrust into your mouth, and Wooyoung slid into your pussy.

They fucked you without any kind of rhythm, your body jerking back and forth as they moved in and out of you. You shut your eyes, along for the ride. Spit dripped down your chin as San hit the back of your throat with each thrust, and there was an obscene wet slapping sound as Wooyoung fucked your pussy.

There wasn’t any kind of rhyme or reason to this, but you were in so deep you didn’t care. It felt so fucking good to be used by them that you would’ve done about anything at that point if they’d just keep going.

Wooyoung grunted a few times. “So fucking tight, even after Sannie was just inside you. Can you taste yourself on his cock?”

San tangled his fingers in your hair to keep you in place as he kept going. “I don’t mean to be so rough, baby, but your mouth is just… fuck, it feels so good. I can’t help myself. You understand, right?”

You came again, at the same time as San, who pulled out of your mouth to cum all over your face. It dripped off of you as he gently combed his hand through your hair. “Is Woo fucking you so good, baby?”

“Mhm.” You whined, leaning into his touch even as the aftershocks of your orgasm still arced through you. “Good, Sannie.”

“Beautiful kitty. Woo’s gonna cum and then… and then we’ll see what he wants to do, okay? You can talk, if you like.”

You nodded, pushing yourself back onto Wooyoung’s cock. “He feels so good.”

“Fuck.” Wooyoung’s pace stammered. “I’m so close, kitty. So good for me.”

It wasn’t long before he came inside you with a groan. You whimpered through his orgasm.

Slowly, Wooyoung pulled out, and you could feel his cum dripping out of you. You fell on your side, breathing hard.

“Perfect kitty.” Wooyoung moved to spoon you, and San cuddled you from the front. You closed your eyes, so content in their presence you could’ve fallen asleep, and in fact you might have if Wooyoung hadn’t started to touch your clit again.

You whined, squirming.

“I told you I’d have to punish you, didn’t I?” Wooyoung whispered mischievously. “That means you don’t stop until I say stop.”

“Yes, sir.” You pushed back into his hand.

“Look at you.” He laughed softly. “You still want it. Needy little kitty.”

You knew Wooyoung could be sadistic. He’d fuck you into overstimulation and past it until you were begging for mercy. He’d use San to help overwhelm your body.

And you’d enjoy every second of it.

[lunajay33]

Migraine🕷️

Summary: You get frequent migraines but they’ve been mia since the apocalypse but even since you got to the farm they’ve returned but you didn’t wanna bother anyone until Daryl finds you balled up on the floor in pain

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f!reader

Request by @avrmee

•Masterlist•

Soul crushing migranes were always a struggle to deal with before the world ended, but there was ways to try and relieve them, medicine, piercings, acupuncture but now that it’s been about a year and there was no more medicine or anything really the migraines came back and almost stronger than before

They’d come on when the heat was high and the sun was near blinding, triggering what ever it was in your head to cause crippling pain that no matter how much pressure you applied to your eyes or the amount of water you drank it didn’t matter, but in this world you couldn’t afford to take a day off especially with all the work the others were putting into the prison it was only fair you pull your weight even through the pain

Walking out of prison, opening the door to the blinding white light that was the Georgia sun stung just hoping it didn’t flair up another episode, walking out to the court yard where Daryl was tinkering on his bike you sat next to him

“I missed you this morning” you said leaning your head against his shoulder as he used a wrench against…..well you have no clue but you loved watching him work

“Sorry ya know I’m an early riser plus ya’ve been sleeping lot longer now, ya okay?”

You didn’t wanna worry him and tell him that after these long days of over exerting yourself in the heat that the pain in your head kept you awake late into the night causing you to wake up later than everyone else

“Oh yeah I’m fine, just tired is all, plus I got a beautiful sight next to me at night it’s hard to fall asleep” you laughed poking his side making him gruff out a laugh

“Well I have to go work on the crowd of walkers around the fence, if you need me I’ll be there” I said leaving his side walking down to the entrance gate, using a pole to take down as many walkers as you could working your way down the fence, working for hours when you felt an aura around your head, the groans and snaps of jaws became louder and overwhelming, your knees became weak, you became nauseous as your vision became blurred and specked with black dots, all topped off by the painful pressure in your head

Losing control you dropped to the gravel clutching your head in your hands, knees tucked up to your chest, whining from the pain, this is one of the worst it’s ever been, in the distance you could hear your name being yelled but everything was so overwhelming you couldn’t even process it until the screams got closer

“Y/n baby what’s wrong” Daryl asked holding your body close to his, your head in his lap as he rubbed your back

“It…….it hurts so much” you whined as you clutched your head more wishing for this pain to fade

He just held you for what felt like half an hour trying to comfort me, the walkers noises started to dwindle someone must have came down with Daryl to take them out, you huffed out a breath as the pain subsided a bit giving you enough strength to sit up, seeing his worried expression

“What happened?” He asked brushing my disheveled hair back

“I get this awful migraines, I didn’t wanna say anything and use it as an excuse but they keep me up at night but sometimes they get so bad, like this and I don’t know how to stop them”

“Darlin ya should have said something, we’d understand, I could’ve tried to help ya at night”

“I know how hard you work all day you need your sleep”

“But if yer feeling sick yer more important, promise me you’ll let me help ya”

You bit your lip hesitant not wanting to be a burden

“Y/n” he said sternly

“Okay I promise”

“Good, ya know yer damn stubborn”

“You love me” you said smiling

“Yer lucky I do”

[luvzshy]

I’d really like something like billie and reader are together for a while now, everybody supports them but ONE friend of billie. they managed the situation but when billie surprisingly proposes this friend decides to talk to billie and declare her feelings, while doing it reader arrives in the room and shit hit the fan lol billie being the good fiancée we know she’ll be gets on reader side ofcccc

am i crazy? you can say so

The Confession That Almost Broke Us

Word Count: 1,130 words

Warnings: Angst, jealousy, unrequited love, emotional confrontation

a/n: okay so this is interestinggggg i love drama bro and if i was lana maaann, i would be crashing out 😭😭

You and Billie had been together for almost two years now, and life was good. You fit into her world like you’d been meant to be there all along. Billie’s friends and family had embraced you with open arms, thrilled to see her so happy and grounded. But there was always one person who seemed a little distant—Lana. She was one of Billie’s oldest friends, always hanging around on the periphery, smiling politely and keeping her comments to herself. You’d tried to shake off the weirdness between you, but sometimes, when she’d look at Billie, you couldn’t help but feel a chill of something… off.

Whenever you’d bring it up to Billie, she’d just laugh and brush it aside. “That’s just Lana being Lana,” she’d say. “She’s always been a little intense.”

You trusted Billie, so you didn’t push it. After all, no relationship is perfect, and if one friend wasn’t thrilled, you’d manage. Still, there were times when you felt Lana’s eyes on you, something guarded and closed-off, like she was holding onto a secret.

It all came to a head one night, when Billie planned a small gathering at your place to celebrate the anniversary of her first album release. Friends, family, a few close people from the industry—it was an intimate, warm night, with laughter and drinks flowing. Everyone crowded into your living room, sharing memories, laughing over stories from Billie’s early touring days, and just soaking up the celebration.

As the night wore on, Billie got quiet. She held your hand tightly, glancing around the room with a smile that seemed… different, more nervous than you were used to. Then, without warning, she stood up and faced you, holding your hand tightly. She took a deep breath, and your heart stopped as she dropped down on one knee.

The room fell silent. You could see wide-eyed smiles and gasps all around you, but all you could focus on was Billie. She looked up at you with a mix of nervousness and warmth, her fingers gently squeezing yours.

“Y/N,” she said, her voice shaky but steady. “You have made me happier than I ever thought I could be. Being with you… it’s like, every day, I’m the luckiest person in the world. And I can’t imagine my life without you.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small velvet box, popping it open to reveal a beautiful, sparkling ring. “Will you marry me?”

The room burst into cheers and applause, but for you, it all faded into the background. With tears in your eyes, you nodded, overwhelmed with joy. “Yes! Of course, yes!”

Billie stood up and kissed you, pulling you close as your friends and family gathered around, congratulating you both, hugging and laughing and celebrating.

Everyone, that is, except Lana. She stood off to the side, her expression a mixture of shock and something else… pain, maybe? Her face was tight, and she didn’t join in the celebration. Billie seemed to notice, too, glancing her way with a slight frown before shaking it off and pulling you back into the moment.

The rest of the evening flew by in a blur of laughter, toasts, and shared joy. You tried to shake off the moment with Lana, chalking it up to shock or maybe just jealousy. But later that night, when Billie left the room to get something from the kitchen, Lana slipped away, following her.

Curious, you hung back, deciding to give them a moment. But then you heard hushed voices coming from the other room. Lana’s voice, choked with emotion, drifted toward you.

“Billie, I need to talk to you,” she was saying. “Please, just… listen. I’ve been holding this in for so long, and I can’t anymore. I have feelings for you. I’ve always had feelings for you. I thought, maybe… one day, you’d see that I was the one who was supposed to be by your side. And now, seeing you with her, seeing you propose… I can’t take it anymore.”

There was a long, painful silence before Billie spoke, her voice low but resolute. “Lana… I’m sorry. I love you, but not in that way. You’re my friend, and you’ve always been special to me. But Y/N is the one I’m in love with. She’s the one I want to spend my life with.”

You couldn’t hold back any longer. You walked into the room, your heart pounding as Lana turned, startled to see you there. Her face flushed, and she looked away, clearly mortified. Billie’s eyes met yours, filled with concern and apology.

“Y/N,” Billie said softly, moving to your side. She took your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You know I’m with you. I’ll always be with you.”

Lana stammered, looking down at the floor, realizing the weight of what she’d just done. “I… I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I just… I thought maybe…”

You took a deep breath, trying to find words that would hold the peace but also express your hurt. “Lana, I understand this might be hard for you. But Billie chose me. We’re building a life together.”

Lana nodded, eyes downcast, her shoulders slumping. “I know. I’m sorry. I just… I’ll go.”

Without another word, she left the room, leaving you and Billie alone. Billie turned to you, her hands gentle on your face, her eyes filled with love. “You’re my everything, Y/N. No one could ever come between us.”

You wrapped your arms around her, pulling her close, feeling the security and warmth in her embrace. In that moment, you knew that whatever challenges might come your way, Billie was yours—and you were hers.

[maxlarens]

OP: i can’t complain but i will

pairing(s): oscar piastri x mercedes driver!reader; oscar piastri & driver!reader & lando norris; lando norris x oscar piastri

word count: 2.4k+

an: here’s a little bit of angst a little bit of fluff and me holding myself back from making osc x reader x lan a poly ship😭 disclaimer: this isn’t an accurate reflection of the events of the Hungary GP. i take creative liberties as usual! and sorry to lewis. it’s still a mercedes P3 i guess😭 also here are my thoughts on the race so nothing is misconstrued here. AND gif credit because it keeps disappearing!

I. I choked on such longing I couldn’t spit out

Oscar crosses the finish line in Hungary and it’s fine.

It’s fine.

Y’know, fine in the way where there’s this feeling in his chest. This thing gnawing at his insides. At his gut. And maybe it’s his helmet, maybe it’s the temperature, but there’s something on his cheeks. Heat. Something burning. Maybe.

His mind goes immediately to those clips he’d seen of Lando’s onboard in Miami. The shrill little giggles, the high-pitch of his teammates voice, the cheer of the crowd faintly in the background. Crackle hiss—

No one’s cheering for Oscar—

Tom is on the radio.

Oscar’s not stupid, not by a long shot. He can hear the strained quality of it, the forced cheerfulness.

Yeah. Oscar apologises before he can think twice about it. It just slips out of him. He thinks of you telling him— on a Tuesday night two weeks ago— that he needed to “stop saying sorry so fucking much, Oscar”. The way he’d been distracted by his name in your mouth. Oscar. Not Osc like he’s used to, or the occasional Oscie you’re prone to throw out. Oscar. Like you were serious.

Whatever. He says something to Tom that his publicist would be proud of. Waves at the grandstands. Tries not to think, not like this. I didn’t want it like this.

A sigh leeches out of him. Lando’s car is in his periphery and you’re trailing behind him as the three of you turn. The three of you on a podium… it’s a dream come true for him. But— yeah— not like this.

He’s in the car for too long. Helmet on his head, where no one can see his face. He’s okay, he thinks. He’s fine.

He thinks of being a little kid at Albert Park. Watching F1 in the living room late at night. Getting in a kart for the first time and feeling alive. And okay—

Yes, there’s a sour taste in his mouth. Words unsaid sitting on his tongue. But he’s starting to feel the smile tugging at his lips. The feeling is his chest starts to ease, just a little. Just a bit.

He’s looking up and there’s you and there’s Lando. You’re on opposite sides of the car, Lando’s reaching for him, for his hand. Clutching it tightly. Lando squeezes once, his helmet covered face bobs in a nod that says something… part of Oscar hopes it’s I’m sorry. Another part of him is mad that it may not be.

And you, well you have no idea the half hour he’s just had. But your hand is on his shoulder and then on the top of his helmet and you’re whacking it with a gusto he hadn’t expected. He thinks you might be crying. You keep reaching in through your visor to wipe at your eyes and it’s making Oscar feel sick. You’re crying and he’s sitting here feeling sorry for himself because the win wasn’t perfect.

Fuck.

So Oscar grins and he bears it.

He gets out of the car and he smooths it over until everything is okay again. Because that’s what he’s good at. Because that’s how he’s made it here. Oscar Piastri is a team player, sometimes more than he is anything else. And that’s okay, that’s fine for now, because one day, eventually, Oscar is going to be the reason they need to hire a team player. One day he’ll be the beating heart of some Formula One team and he won’t have to win a race because his teammate had to let him by—

That’s not Lando’s fault either. Lando is…

He’s Lando. Oscar gets it.

Oscar gets it more than anyone.

II. I am obsessive. I contain nothing but the replay

Lando is trying so fucking hard not to have a tantrum.

It’s this infuriating feedback loop where he thinks I had it and then something cuts in to say but Oscar deserved it and then it starts over again. It’s making Lando feel like shit, for losing, for being a bad friend, for jeopardising the relative peace of the team. He’s trying to temper the angry, selfish little spoiled brat voice in his head but it’s so fucking hard to keep that dog on a leash.

He’s trying to be okay.

He’s in the post-race room with you and he’s trying to be fine.

And okay, so he knocks the stupid second place cap to the ground in front of the camera that’s broadcasting you guys to the world. Always second. God. He’d tasted a win in Miami and it’s almost like he’s worse off for it. It’s a win or it’s nothing and it’s tearing him apart from the inside out. There’s a voice in his head that’s saying, you’re just a one trick pony, Lando. Do it again and you might be worth something.

It’s making him crazy.

He bites his tongue. Turns to look at you, lounging in the third place chair like it doesn’t matter, like you’re happy to just be on the podium.

You raise an eyebrow at him, face blank but he knows what it says anyway. Be happy for him. He would be happy for you.

Fuck, and he would—

He would. Selfless and kind above all, Oscar.

Lando frowns, his back to the lens.

Your gaze flicks from him, to the hat on the floor. Pick it up, it says. Pick it up and pretend.

Lando picks it up. He’s the one who gave Oscar the position back after all. He’s his own worst enemy right now. Not you, certainly not Oscar—

Speaking of Oscar.

He’s here. He’s holding the first place cap that Lando wants to be his, he’s putting it on his head and Lando’s okay. Lando’s fine. He’s watching the race replay and seeing Max turn into your car and he’s trying desperately to look at that, pay attention to that, and not Oscar.

Because it hurts.

Not in a good way, not the way Lando looks at him sometimes and feels some yawning sun in his chest.

Instead there’s something bitter and snarling.

Some chained, angry dog on a leash.

Lando turns, goes to sit in the chair he doesn’t want to sit in, and catches Oscar’s eye. He feels the snarling thing strain, it goes to bark, to bite. Then Oscar smiles. It’s not much— it doesn’t reach his eyes exactly. But it’s effort. It’s thank you. It’s I know what that meant.

It’s enough.

III. He forgives you, dogs are like that, so loyal

You know something is off the second that you get out of the car. This isn’t what Oscar’s maiden win is supposed to look like— or it almost is, but the picture is wrong.

It’s not ecstatic, it’s not crowds chanting his name, it’s not Oscar getting out of the car like a shot and jumping into the arms of his team.

Instead, you see grim faces plastered over with smiles, McLaren engineers huddled into groups and talking in hushed tones. Lando’s sulking, you can tell by the set of his shoulders, the way people hover around him, keeping their distance a bit. You blink— there’s something in your eyes, your nose tingling with some emotion—

Whatever. You push it aside, go to Oscar’s car before anything else, before even taking your helmet off. It's you and Lando on opposite sides and whatever the case, whatever happened out there that you're not aware of, Lando's here. Lando's sucking it up.

You find out bits and pieces over the next hour, from your race engineer, from the post-race interviews, from Lando's attitude in the cool down room. The tension between them is bleeding into everything and they orbit around each other all afternoon. They can't quite look at each other, they keep making eye contact for a split second and then letting it slide away. They keep smiling these strained things at each other. Lando keeps reaching out to touch Oscar, but always at arms length. Like an apology neither of them can quite commit to.

You know it's the team that are the issue and it's also this hurt that Lando can't quite get over, and an Oscar who is trying to just be happy but needs more time to get there.

It's making your heart ache.

You've dreamt of this, stupidly enough. Oscar on the top step of the podium, that bunny-tooth grin of his spreading and spreading. Champagne and confetti. You're there, of course you're there. Lando is too. So it's painful to have that dream actualised and to realise it's not perfect— because, well, nothing ever is.

And it's fucking unfortunate.

But it's them. So it's fine.

You're baffled by that sometimes. You still hold grudges against old teammates. There are things you'll never forgive them for, wounds that will never heal. But you come back from your frustratingly long debrief and find them doubled over outside their driver's room, giggling their heads off at something. It's not perfect, there's still something between them, something in the air.

But they're trying.

And Oscar is smiling wider than you've seen in a long while.

So for Oscar's sake you push it aside—

It's always a little different away from prying eyes, away from rolling cameras, in front of which you feel pressure to act like Oscar and Lando are first and foremost your rivals. When they're gone they can just be your friends. Your boys.

Naturally, you're thudding into Oscar before he really notices you're there. Too busy throwing his head back at something Lando had said. He's still in champagne wet fireproofs as you reach your arms around his shoulders, but so are you. He smells vaguely like a wet dog and lets out a soft oft noise as you charge into him.

"Hey, race winner," you say as he threads his arms around your waist.

You put your forehead on his collarbone, close your eyes as a laugh flutters out of him. You hear it rumble in his chest as he rocks the two of you gently from side to side. It's giggly, light and joyful like the one he does when he's tipsy. But he's not tipsy, just happy you think.

"Race winner," he mumbles, low, quiet, to himself more than anything, "Yeah."

"Yeah," you whisper back.

You're like that maybe for too long. Longer than people who are just friends should be. You can hear Lando moving around behind you, asphalt grinding under his feet. His gaze prickling the back of your neck. Eventually, you pull away. You slide your hands to grip Oscar's shoulders, fingertips pressing into warm skin, lean up and press a kiss to his cheek. Accidentally, your lips land too close to the corner of his mouth, brushing against stubble and sweat. You hear something soft escape his lips, barely audible as his brown eyes bore into yours. Pupils blown large, gaze drifting momentarily down to your lips.

"Good job today, Osc," you say, trying not to let your breath hitch.

You pull away a little before he does something in the heat of the moment— and right in front of Lando, of all people. He's high on adrenaline, that's all. That's all.

"Thank you," he smiles, all teeth.

You feel hot all the way down your neck, into your chest. Hm, premature menopause, you think, rather than the obvious— which is that it makes you mega nervous to be that close to Oscar Piastri.

Lando clears his throat.

In a jerky, surprised movement you step away from Oscar, while Oscar fumbles awkwardly for his phone in his pocket. He holds it up, says something stumbling about calling his family and then takes only maybe five steps away before you or Lando can say a thing.

You laugh, just a little.

Then do a pleased little spin to face Lando.

Who seems better, lighter. At least in comparison to how he was immediately post-race. Which you’re glad to see. Especially after catching bits of his team radio from a brief conversation with George. You’re not particularly happy about it, but it’s not really your place to be upset.

“Hey,” you smile warmly.

He smiles back, tighter than you’d hoped.

You move a bit closer into his personal space, watching him carefully. It’s okay you think. He’s more subdued than usual, but you can’t see the seething thing that was under his skin earlier. That would be fine of course, he’s entitled to that, but his sake you’re glad it’s gone.

“You okay?”, you ask.

Lando nods, eyes falling closed momentarily as he hums contemplatively, “‘M okay. Happy for him.”

You nod, stepping closer to pull him into a one armed hug that’s not quite as energetic as the one you’d given Oscar before.

“Yeah,” you say quietly, pressing the side of your face into his cheek, “Upset too?”

He hums again, sighs, “Yeah. ‘Course.”

“Yeah,” because you get it,

Maybe not in these exact circumstances. But you know what it’s like. To chase a win with everything you have, to fall short after it’s been in your grasp. You understand that. So does Oscar—

Speaking of.

Oscar’s back, footsteps crunching asphalt behind you.

“They’re asleep,” he explains, “I’ll talk to them later.”

You half let Lando go, moving to accommodate the race winner into your little circle. They’re a bit weird about it, shuffling into place awkwardly, you’re not surprised after a day like today, but you persevere— wrapping arms around both of them and pulling them simultaneously down into a haphazard hug that you’re in the middle of.

Lando’s face is in your neck somehow, mumbling something about you being overbearing while his hand clutches at your waist to keep himself upright. Oscar’s arm is tight around your shoulders and your face is squished up against his chest. You squeeze tightly— let them go when it’s been a minute too long—

You can feel yourself almost getting caught up in the tangle of limbs. The warmth of your friends. The emotion of it. You think there’s something stuck in your eye again, something wet in your tear ducts.

You sniff, try to ignore it, hope they don’t see.

Then, stupid observant Oscar, “Are you crying?”

You let out an offended noise and shake your head to deny it, but instead something that’s almost a sob, but not quite, slips out—

“No,” you declare, but it’s unconvincing—

and then you’re back in the hug. All sweat and sticky champagne residue, Lando’s too-strong cologne and Oscar who smells like burnt rubber. And it’s not perfect, because nothing ever is, but it’s enough for you.

this was really cathartic for me to be honest. just needed my little driver!reader to hug landoscar after that race. needed to get some big feelings out and then needed a sweet little fluff section to make me feel better.

ALSO DISCLAIMER: this was a work of FICTION it does not reflect the entirety of what i feel about the events of the hungary gp. i am simply playing with dolls! thank you and goodbye!