#just ones that seemed to fit or others I thought looked cool

[wannabehockeygf]

plastic palm trees - william nylander

part of the think later fic series

"Thought that it was real, thought that it was worth it, Out the window everything was looking perfect, Caught in a dream, it's not what it seems."

*** request: "hey girl saw you wanted more maple leafs players and don’t you worry I would love some willy nylander for plastic palm trees"

summary: a whirlwind romance was only serious consideration for one of you. word count: 6.8k pairing: william nylander x fem!reader warnings: insinuation of sex (in a fade-to-black, time lapse thing), alcohol notes:

MY FIRST WILLY FIC

^ we've been getting fed such good pics of him lately

heartbreak because if i can't be happy NO ONE CAN.

i had to do hella research on the city of Toronto for this

It was one of those suffocatingly warm nights at the end of April that always managed to catch you off guard. Since moving to Tampa, you'd gotten used to the random bursts of heat and humidity, but tonight, it seemed more oppressive than usual. Maybe it was the setting—an after-party for the Toronto Maple Leafs on top of a fancy skyscraper, with a rooftop bar and pool. It was after their last regular season game against the Bolts, the one that got them to clinch the playoffs, and it was as far out of your element as you could get, especially with your best friend nowhere to be found. Typical.

Everyone here was either already wasted or riding some other high, and despite the fact that you were wearing a bikini that made you look like you fit right in with the army of models around you, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you didn't belong. Not that anyone cared or noticed, but the nagging insecurity in your gut was loud enough to drown out the music blaring from the DJ booth.

You needed out. Immediately.

With your head down, you started pushing your way through the crowd, dodging guys in swim trunks and girls in bikinis more expensive than your rent, when suddenly it hit you—the pool deck was indeed wet. Slippery, in fact. You tried to stop yourself, but gravity had other plans. Your feet slid out from under you in slow-motion horror, and for one terrifying second, you were convinced you were about to make a grand entrance into the pool.

Except… you didn’t. Instead of a splash, you collided with something warm and solid behind you. Not too solid, though—just the perfect amount of solid that made you immediately wish you could stay there a little longer. A squeak escaped your lips, and you twisted your head around to apologize, but as if playing the role of clumsy, awkward girl to perfection, your eyes locked onto his.

Oh. Oh wow.

His eyes were beautiful—crystal blue, sharp and hypnotic. You were so caught up in them that you almost forgot how to breathe. Your jaw hung open, just a little, and his laughter was the first thing to break through the spell. God, even his laugh was attractive. Deep, yet boyish. The kind of sound that makes you feel all kinds of flustered for no good reason.

He brought his hand up to scratch at his patchy blond beard, which was—against all odds—also unfairly good-looking. And then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, he pulled you back onto your feet in one smooth motion, his arm still firmly around your waist. You didn’t miss how strong he was. Okay, cool, play it cool. Definitely don’t acknowledge the fact that you just fell into a guy with abs for days.

"Whoa, you alright?" he asked, voice warm and tinged with amusement. You could practically hear the smile in it, which only made your heart flip-flop even more.

You nodded quickly, trying to steady yourself. “Yeah, I’m good! I just… forgot the ground was wet.” Great. That sounded totally sane. 

“Easy to miss,” he grinned, his arm still lingering a little longer than necessary before he finally let go, stepping back just enough to give you space. “Not your fault. Happens to the best of us.”

You tried to laugh it off, though it came out more like an awkward cough. Smooth. Very smooth. “Thanks for, uh… catching me. I probably would've done a full backflip into the pool otherwise.”

He chuckled again, that sound making your stomach twist in ways you weren’t prepared for. “Glad I could help save the day.” He paused, and then as if he was actually interested in you beyond just saving you from a catastrophic splash, he asked, “I’m Will, by the way.”

Will. Of course, his name is William. Because of course, I’d fall into a guy who looks like a freaking Nordic god with a name like William. You cleared your throat, trying to regain some semblance of dignity. “Nice to meet you, Will. I’m… well, I’m just trying not to die of embarrassment, so you can call me a mess.”

He laughed again, this time a little softer, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Nah, you’re doing fine. No more slipping, though, alright?”

“I’ll do my best,” you said with a weak grin, still fighting the urge to just melt into the ground.

He took a small step closer, glancing around at the chaos of the party before turning his attention back to you. “You look like you could use a drink. Can I buy you one?”

You blinked, the words Can I buy you one? still bouncing around in your head like a ping-pong ball that refused to settle. Your heart did a quick stutter step, trying to catch up with the situation as you stared at the walking Norse god who had—somehow—deemed you worthy of his time.

A drink. He was offering you a drink. You should say something. Anything, really.

“Uh, sure,” you croaked out, before clearing your throat and attempting to sound like a fully functioning human. “I mean, yeah. That sounds great.”

His smile widened, like he found your awkwardness adorable, and you cursed internally at the fact that even his smile had to be perfect. Because, of course, it did. Of course, he had to be the kind of guy who looked like he stepped off a movie set, made you feel like a complete idiot, and was still nice enough to offer you a drink instead of just leaving you to fumble your way to the poolside bar alone.

William motioned for you to follow him, leading you through the crowd with surprising ease—probably because people just naturally got out of the way for someone who looked like that. Meanwhile, you were fighting to keep your cool, your feet somehow both heavy and light as you trailed behind, staring at his broad back and the muscles that shifted with each movement. Was it hot in here, or was that just you?

Yeah, it was definitely just you.

You arrived at the bar, and William leaned against it, catching the bartender’s attention in a way only someone with that level of effortless confidence could. “What’s your drink?” he asked, eyes locking onto yours again, and for a split second, you forgot how to form words.

“Uh…” You glanced up at the chalkboard menu, your brain desperately trying to pick something that didn’t scream I’m lost, help me. “A margarita?”

He grinned, giving a little nod like you’d passed some secret test. “Good choice. I’ll have the same,” he said to the bartender, who had the audacity to wink at Will before disappearing to make the drinks. You stood there, doing your best not to fidget, but Will’s attention was back on you, and you suddenly felt like you were under a spotlight. He leaned in slightly, the smell of expensive cologne wafting in your direction. Why does he have to smell so good?

“So,” he started, his voice smooth and casual, “what brings you to a party like this? You don’t exactly look like the type to hang around a Leafs hockey crowd.”

You nearly choked. “I—uh—I could say the same about you.”

He raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. “Really? You don’t think I could pass for a hockey player?”

“You’re a hockey player?” you blurted out, louder than you meant to. Then you immediately wanted to slap yourself. Of course, he’s a hockey player, you idiot. He just said this was a Leafs party, and the man looked like he could bench-press you without breaking a sweat. Smooth. So smooth.

William’s grin spread wider, clearly enjoying your flustered reaction. “Yep. William Nylander, right wing for the Toronto Maple Leafs.” He paused, leaning in a little closer as he lowered his voice. “Not gonna lie, though… I’m a bit more interested in you than hockey right now.”

Your brain short-circuited. William Nylander. Oh my god. You were talking to that William Nylander. You’d somehow managed to embarrass yourself in front of one of the most famous hockey players in the NHL. If there was a hole in the ground, you’d gladly crawl into it.

“Oh,” you said weakly. Because what else could you say?

He didn’t miss a beat. “You seem a little surprised,” he teased, his hand brushing against your arm in a way that sent shivers down your spine. “Didn’t expect to meet a guy like me tonight, huh?”

You swallowed hard, trying to keep up with the situation. “No, not exactly. I mean, I didn’t even know this was a Maple Leafs party. My friend invited me, but she’s—well, she’s disappeared.”

He chuckled, clearly amused by your rambling. “Lucky for me, then. I get you all to myself.”

The bartender handed over your drinks, and you gladly took a sip, hoping the alcohol would somehow calm your racing heart. William watched you, eyes twinkling with mischief, like he knew exactly the effect he was having on you.

You could feel the warmth from the margarita sliding down your throat, but it did absolutely nothing to temper the heat already coursing through your veins. The ice-cold drink clashed with the fire igniting inside you, fueled by the fact that William freaking Nylander was standing right in front of you, smiling like he knew every secret thought you were desperately trying to keep hidden.

Oh god. He was looking at you again—those impossibly blue eyes scanning your face with a level of intensity that made your breath catch. It wasn’t fair. Not when he had that stupidly perfect jawline, the kind you only ever saw in glossy magazine spreads. Or, you know, when you accidentally fell into the arms of a guy who looked like he could bench press you for fun. The thought of it made your stomach do another one of those unwelcome flip-flops.

“So,” William began, leaning in just a little closer, his voice soft yet dripping with that effortless charm. “What else don’t I know about you, aside from the fact that you’re stunningly beautiful and apparently terrible at walking on wet surfaces?”

You blinked. Stunningly beautiful? Did he just say that? You knew it was a line. It had to be a line. But the way his voice wrapped around the words made it feel like more than that, like he actually meant it. Your brain scrambled to respond, and you barely managed to avoid a full-on choke this time. “I—uh, well, I’m usually not this clumsy, I swear.”

He raised an eyebrow, his grin widening, that teasing sparkle still alive in his eyes. “Mm, I don’t know. You seem like you might need a little more… steadying. You know, just to be safe.” His gaze flickered to your waist, where his hand had been earlier, and you swore you could feel the phantom weight of it still lingering. “I could always lend a hand. Maybe two, if you need ‘em.”

Your laugh came out too loud—awkward, but you couldn’t help it. “I’ll, uh, keep that in mind,” you stammered, taking another sip of your margarita like it was a lifeline. His flirtation wasn’t corny, but it was relentless in a way that left you completely unprepared. It was as though he was gently laying down brick after brick, building up the tension, each little compliment stacking on top of the last. And you? You were just trying to keep from crumbling under the weight of it all.

“You know,” he continued, his voice dipping lower, leaning into that sweet spot where a whisper might live, “you really do stand out here. I’m not just saying that.” His eyes locked onto yours again, and suddenly, the noise of the party seemed to melt into the background. “Everyone else is… well, they’re either trying too hard or not trying at all. But you…” He paused, letting his eyes roam over you in a way that felt both appreciative and entirely too intimate for the middle of a party. “You look effortlessly gorgeous. Like you’re not even trying. It’s… refreshing.”

You could feel your face heating up, and it wasn’t just from the humidity. There was no way he could really mean that, right? You felt like a fish out of water, surrounded by people who seemed to thrive in this kind of environment—women with legs for days and hair that didn’t frizz up at the slightest hint of moisture, unlike your own. But here was William, saying things that made you feel like maybe—just maybe—you weren’t completely out of place.

You took another long sip of your margarita, hoping the liquid courage would do its job, but your nerves were still very much in charge. Every time you looked at him, you were acutely aware of how out of your depth you were. The man had an aura about him, an energy that came effortlessly, like he was born knowing he could make women weak at the knees with just one well-placed glance. And tonight, all that effortless energy was directed squarely at you.

“You’re quiet all of a sudden,” William teased, leaning in closer, his voice dropping to that low, dangerous level again, the kind that made your toes curl. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

Pretty. There it was again, another compliment dropped into conversation like it was nothing, but this one landed differently. It felt personal, like he wasn’t just throwing out lines to get a reaction. His eyes stayed fixed on yours, curious, like he genuinely wanted to know what was going on in your brain, which was a dangerous place to be right now.

You forced a laugh, trying to act like your entire body wasn’t buzzing with a mix of nerves and attraction. “Oh, you know… just wondering how I managed to fall into the arms of the one guy at this party who’s apparently allergic to shirts,” you joked, gesturing to his open button-down that was doing absolutely nothing to hide the fact that his abs were, indeed, carved by the gods themselves.

He threw his head back and laughed, the sound so full and rich it almost made you forget how embarrassing your comment was. “Shirts are overrated,” he said with a playful shrug, glancing down at his chest like he was only now realizing he wasn’t wearing one. “Besides, you’re not exactly overdressed either, you know?”

Your cheeks flamed. “Touché.”

He smirked, the kind that made your heart do that stupid little flutter again. “But honestly? I’m not complaining. If I’d known falling into my arms would be part of your plan tonight, I would’ve ditched the shirt earlier.”

Okay, now you really were melting. He wasn’t just flirting; he was relentless. And worse, he knew exactly what he was doing, gauging your every reaction like he was running some kind of experiment on just how flustered he could make you. Spoiler alert: very.

You smiled, trying to play it cool, but it felt like every nerve in your body was hyperaware of how close he was standing. You could practically feel the heat radiating off his skin, the subtle scent of his cologne still teasing your senses. Focus, you reminded yourself. You didn’t want to come off as some starstruck fan who couldn’t handle a little flirting.

“Falling into your arms wasn’t exactly on my to-do list tonight,” you quipped, finally meeting his eyes again. “But, hey, accidents happen.”

William’s lips quirked into that smirk again, the one that was quickly becoming your undoing. “Some accidents aren’t so bad,” he said smoothly, his eyes flicking down for just a second before they locked back on yours, making your breath hitch.

There was something about the way he looked at you—like he was undressing you with his eyes, but not in a sleazy way. No, it was more like he was figuring you out, studying every little reaction, every shift in your body language, every flutter of your lashes. It was almost unnerving how much attention he was paying to you, like he had all the time in the world.

“Okay, now I know you’re trying to kill me,” you muttered under your breath, barely loud enough for him to hear. But of course, he did.

“What was that?” He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. “Something you wanna say to me, sweetheart?”

You felt your heart stutter in your chest at the sudden proximity, the pet name slipping out of his mouth so casually, like it was something he’d said a hundred times before. You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way his voice sent heat pooling in your stomach. “Just that you’re not exactly subtle, are you?”

“Why would I be?” he asked, pulling back just enough to give you that devastating smile again. “I’ve got you right where I want you.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. He was so goddamn confident. Not cocky, not arrogant, just… sure of himself, like he knew exactly what effect he had on you, and he wasn’t afraid to use it. And the worst part was, it was working. Every word, every glance, every laugh—he was pulling you in without even trying.

You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice. “Yeah, well… maybe I just like the view.”

His grin widened at that, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Oh, you like the view, huh?”

You felt your face heat up instantly. “I meant of the party,” you corrected quickly, even though it was a blatant lie.

Willam raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Sure you did,” he said, his voice dropping to a near-whisper as he leaned in just a little closer. “But I’m glad you like what you see.”

You felt the air between you shift—just a little, but enough to make your pulse race. His eyes darkened slightly, and for the first time tonight, the teasing edge in his voice softened, replaced by something more serious. More intense.

“Listen,” he said, his voice low, the flirtation still there but laced with something deeper now. “This party’s fun and all, but… I’d much rather spend the rest of the night with you. Somewhere quieter.”

Your heart thudded in your chest, and you stared at him for a moment, trying to process what he’d just said. He was asking if you wanted to leave with him—if you wanted to take this to the next level.

Part of you knew you should probably play it cool, act like this wasn’t sending your mind into overdrive. But the other part of you—the part that had been riding the high of his relentless attention all night—was screaming at you to say yes.

William waited, his eyes never leaving yours, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He wasn’t rushing you, but there was a heat in his gaze that made it clear he was hoping for the answer he wanted.

And honestly? So were you.

“I—uh—yeah,” you finally managed, your voice shaky but steady enough. “I’d like that.”

William’s smile widened, his eyes lighting up with that same mischievous glint as he straightened up, offering you his hand. “Then let’s get out of here.”

The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a warm, golden hue across the unfamiliar room. You blinked against the brightness, disoriented for a moment until you felt the weight of the arm draped across your waist. Right. William. Last night. Your mind replayed flashes of the night before—the teasing, the drinks, his relentless flirting, and then… everything else.

You shifted slightly, the cool sheets brushing against your bare skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from the man beside you. William’s breathing was slow and steady, and you could hear the faint rustle of him stirring next to you, his presence impossibly close and yet suddenly foreign in the daylight. What the hell just happened?

You glanced over at him, your heart doing that annoying flutter thing again. Even half-asleep, he looked annoyingly perfect. His blond hair was tousled from sleep, his face relaxed, and those damn long lashes—seriously, what kind of guy has lashes like that?—cast soft shadows on his cheekbones. He shifted slightly, his arm tightening around your waist for a moment before loosening, as though even in sleep he wasn’t quite ready to let you go.

It was kind of surreal, being here. In bed. With William freaking Nylander.

You closed your eyes for a second, trying to piece together your thoughts, but before you could drift too far into overthinking mode, you felt him stir next to you. His arm moved away, and the bed shifted as he sat up, the sheet slipping down to his waist. You kept your eyes closed, pretending to still be asleep as you listened to him move quietly around the room. The rustle of fabric, the sound of a zipper, a soft curse under his breath as he searched for something. You could practically picture him getting ready to leave, and part of you wondered if this was the part where he would just disappear without a word.

But then you felt the bed dip again, and his hand brushed lightly against your shoulder. “Hey,” his voice was soft, huskier than it had been last night, laced with that morning grogginess that somehow made him even more attractive. “I’ve gotta head out soon. Got a flight back to Toronto in a few hours.”

You opened your eyes, blinking up at him as he sat on the edge of the bed, half-dressed in a plain black T-shirt and jeans that somehow still managed to look designer on him. His hair was still messy, but it only added to the effortless charm he seemed to carry like it was second nature. You sat up slowly, clutching the sheet to your chest, suddenly hyperaware of your own disheveled state in comparison to him looking like he just walked off a runway.

“Oh, right,” you mumbled, your voice a little scratchy from sleep. “Back to the glamorous life of hockey stardom.”

He chuckled softly, his blue eyes catching the morning light as he glanced back at you. “Yeah, something like that.” There was a pause, a moment where neither of you seemed to know what to say next. You weren’t exactly prepared for the morning-after small talk with someone like him, and part of you wasn’t sure if he’d want to stick around for it either.

But then he reached into his back pocket, pulling out his phone and turning it over in his hand before offering it to you. “Here,” he said casually, but there was a sincerity in his voice that caught you off guard. “Put your number in.”

You blinked at him, momentarily caught off guard. “My number?”

He nodded, a small, almost boyish smile playing on his lips as he looked at you. “Yeah, unless you’d rather I just disappear into the night, never to be seen again.” His tone was teasing, but there was something genuine behind his eyes, like he was offering more than just a casual exchange of digits.

You hesitated for a second, staring at the phone in his hand. Part of you wondered if this was just something he did—collecting numbers like souvenirs from his nights out—but the way he was looking at you, waiting, made it feel different. Like he actually wanted to stay connected.

You reached for the phone, your fingers brushing against his for the briefest moment before you started typing in your number. “Alright,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant despite the nervous flutter in your chest. “But only if you promise not to spam me with shirtless selfies.”

He laughed, the sound low and warm, making your stomach do another one of those stupid flips. “No promises,” he grinned, taking the phone back once you’d handed it over. He glanced at the screen, then back at you, his smile softening just a little. “But I’ll definitely text you.”

You weren’t sure what to say to that, so you just nodded, feeling a little out of your depth again. This whole thing felt like it existed in some kind of surreal bubble—like you’d stepped out of your normal life and into some alternate universe where William Nylander was asking for your number and promising to text you like this wasn’t completely out of the ordinary.

He stood up then, pulling on his jacket and giving you one last look before heading toward the door. “I’ll see you around, yeah?”

You smiled, though it felt more like a question than a statement. “Yeah. See you around.”

And then he was gone, leaving you alone in the quiet room, the scent of his cologne still lingering in the air, clinging to your skin. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, staring at the door for a moment as you tried to process everything. The night, the morning, the fact that he had just given you his number.

What. Just. Happened?

You flopped back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling as a small, incredulous laugh bubbled up in your chest. This wasn’t real life. It couldn’t be. But as your phone buzzed on the nightstand, you glanced over and saw his name light up the screen.

“Talk soon :)”

Yeah. This was definitely real. And you were in so much trouble.

The days that followed that surreal morning were a blur of disbelief, excitement, and an overwhelming sense of What the hell just happened?. You spent an embarrassing amount of time staring at his name in your contacts, debating whether to text him first or wait for him to follow up on his promise. But, true to his word, he didn’t leave you in suspense for long. That very same day, your phone lit up with a simple, casual message: “So, did I pass the ‘won’t disappear’ test?”

From there, it was like a dam broke. Texts became more frequent, each conversation flowing more easily than the last. The banter came naturally, with him teasing you about your corny responses at the party, and you firing back with just enough wit to keep him on his toes. But it wasn’t just flirting anymore—it was something deeper, more meaningful. Soon, those texts evolved into long FaceTime calls that stretched late into the night, your screen lighting up with his face as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Except it wasn’t. Nothing about this was normal.

The first few calls were awkward in the way new things always are—filled with small talk about your day, what you were doing, and how many hours he’d spent training. He’d call you from all sorts of places—his car, the gym, even in between meetings with his agent—giving you glimpses into the world of a professional hockey player that still felt so far removed from your own life. Yet, the more you talked, the more he let you into those private, quieter moments. It wasn’t all glamorous; there were days he was exhausted, barely able to string sentences together, his hair mussed from pulling off his helmet, wearing nothing but his gold chain and boxers. He’d laugh at himself, apologizing for being a “boring, dense hockey guy,” but those moments, when his guard was down, were the ones that pulled you in deeper.

You found yourself opening up too. You’d show him little snippets of your life, whether it was cooking dinner in your tiny apartment or walking on your favourite beach. He seemed genuinely interested, asking questions about the things you never thought anyone would care about—your job, your friends, even your ridiculous obsession with late-night baking shows. He'd make comments like, "You bake? That’s cute. Maybe you can make me something when you're in Toronto," as if the idea of you being there wasn’t absurdly impractical.

Yet, every time he said it, that spark of curiosity flared to life. What if you did go?

There was no denying the pull. With every passing day, every call, every conversation, Toronto became more and more tempting. You could picture it so vividly—flying out, seeing him in person, experiencing this thing between you without a screen separating you. It was ridiculous, though, wasn’t it? You barely knew him. You had sex with him once. This was all supposed to be some fun, flirty thing, not a long-distance… whatever this was turning into. But when he mentioned it—“When are you coming to visit me?”—your heart would skip a beat, and the idea suddenly didn’t feel so far-fetched.

It was around the two-week mark when he FaceTimed you from his apartment. The view behind him was incredible, a sprawling cityscape with the CN Tower looming in the background. He was dressed in sweats, hair still damp from the shower, lounging on his couch like he didn’t have a care in the world. You, on the other hand, were curled up in bed, trying to keep your excitement from showing too much as he asked about your day. It was a mundane conversation, really, but there was a comfort in it, a growing familiarity that felt… nice. More than nice.

“You should be here,” William said suddenly, his eyes locking onto yours through the screen. There was a seriousness in his voice that wasn’t there before. “I keep telling you, you should come to Toronto.”

You laughed it off, like you always did, trying to mask the way your stomach flipped at the suggestion. “Yeah, because hopping on a plane to Canada is totally practical. I’ll just drop everything and come running, right?”

But William didn’t smile this time. His expression was soft, almost vulnerable. “Why not? I’m serious. You keep saying no, but you’re not really giving me a reason. I told you I’d pay.”

You blinked at the screen, momentarily thrown off by the change in his tone. He wasn’t teasing, wasn’t flirting—he was asking, really asking, and for the first time, you didn’t have a quick comeback ready. You stared at him, feeling your heart pound in your chest.

“Willy,” you started, your voice softer now, unsure of how to explain the million thoughts racing through your head. “It’s just… complicated. I have a life here, a job. And we’ve only known each other for, what, two weeks?”

“So?” His response was immediate, like he didn’t see the issue at all. “It’s not like I’m asking you to move here. Just… come for a visit. Spend a weekend. See what happens.”

Your mind spun with the possibilities. A weekend. It sounded so simple when he said it, but to you, it felt like opening Pandora’s box. What if you went, and things weren’t as easy in person like it was the first time? What if this whole thing fell apart? But another part of you, the part that had been growing more attached to him with each passing day, screamed at you to say yes. To stop overthinking and just take the leap.

“I want to,” you admitted quietly, almost afraid to say it out loud.

William’s face lit up at that, the corners of his lips tugging into that boyish grin that always made your heart skip. “Then do it. You’re way too in your head about this. Just come. What’s the worst that could happen?”

The worst that could happen? Oh, you could think of a few things. But staring at him, his expression so open and genuine, you found yourself nodding slowly, your own grin starting to form.

“Okay,” you said before you could talk yourself out of it. “I’ll come.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, both of you processing what they meant. William’s grin widened into a full-on smile, his excitement palpable through the screen. “You won’t regret it,” he promised, his voice full of certainty. “I’ll make sure of it. I’ll buy your tickets, too.”

And just like that, the decision was made. You were going to Toronto.

For the next week, your anticipation grew, along with your nerves. Every time Will mentioned it—“You’re going to love the city. I can’t wait to show you around,”—you felt a mix of excitement and anxiety. It wasn’t just the trip; it was the what ifs that came with it. What if things between you were different in person? What if this whole thing fizzled out? But the pull was too strong, the connection you’d built too real to ignore.

By the time you were at the airport, suitcase in hand, your nerves were a tangled mess. Yet, somewhere beneath the anxiety, there was a sense of thrill, a quiet voice telling you that this might just be one of those moments in life where you take a risk and it pays off. After all, how often do you get the chance to fall headfirst into something this unexpected?

The flight to Toronto felt like the longest of your life. As the plane descended, you stared out the window, watching the sprawling city beneath you slowly come into focus. The CN Tower stood tall, piercing the sky, and the shimmering waters of Lake Ontario stretched out like an endless mirror. You clutched your phone in one hand, the other drumming nervously against your knee. This was it. You were about to step into something that could either be a dream or a disaster, and the weight of that realization hadn’t fully hit until now.

When the plane touched down, you were hit with a rush of nerves. What if things were awkward in person? What if the chemistry that felt so electric over FaceTime fizzled out the second you were face-to-face? You had no idea what to expect.

But then you saw him, waiting just outside of baggage claim, and all the doubts melted away.

He stood there in a hoodie and sweats, casual yet effortlessly cool, his blond hair messy like he’d just rolled out of bed—but somehow, on him, it worked. The moment his blue eyes met yours, his face lit up in that same grin you’d seen a hundred times through a screen, and it felt like everything around you faded.

Your heart did a little flip as you approached, suitcase dragging behind you. “Hey,” you breathed, trying to sound normal, but your voice came out a little shaky.

William stepped forward, closing the distance between you in a few strides. “Hey,” he replied, his voice soft, his grin never wavering. Without hesitation, he pulled you into a hug. And just like that, everything felt right. His arms around you were warm and solid, his body familiar in a way that surprised you. He smelled like cologne and clean laundry, and for a moment, you let yourself sink into it, into him, letting the reality of the moment wash over you.

“You’re actually here,” he murmured, pulling back just enough to look at you, his hands lingering on your arms. His eyes were bright, amused. “You weren’t just messing with me, huh?”

You laughed, feeling a little more grounded now that the ice had been broken. “What, did you think I’d back out last minute?”

“I don’t know,” he teased, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping lower. “You seem like you scare easy.”

Before you could come up with a witty response, he grabbed your suitcase and motioned toward the exit. “Come on, I’m starving. Let’s get out of here.”

The first few hours were a blur of excitement. He took you to a cozy café not far from the airport, somewhere tucked away and intimate, where you could sit by the window and watch the city move outside. Over coffee and a shared plate of pastries, the conversation flowed as easily as it had over the phone—only now, there was something more. He wasn’t just a face on a screen anymore; he was real, sitting across from you, his smile lighting up his entire face whenever you made him laugh.

And he did laugh. A lot. More than you expected. You’d forgotten how much your weird sense of humor had slipped out in those earlier texts, but now, sitting across from him, you felt freer. The walls you’d built, the ones you’d used to guard yourself from being too vulnerable too fast, were crumbling faster than you could stop them.

After coffee, he drove you around, showing you the city like it was his personal playground. You marveled at the historic brick buildings of the Distillery District, snapping photos as he teased you for acting like a tourist. You walked along the waterfront, where the breeze off the lake was cool and refreshing, and he bought you ice cream from a little stand by the pier. At the mention of grabbing lunch at St. Lawrence Market, you could only laugh—he was a whirlwind, jumping from one idea to the next, his excitement palpable.

Later that day, you met his brother, Alex, who welcomed you with a warm smile and a handshake that quickly turned into a hug. “So you’re the mystery girl,” he said, glancing between you and William with an amused grin. “He hasn’t shut up about you for weeks.”

You felt your cheeks burn, but William brushed off the comment with a smirk. “Don’t listen to him. He’s just jealous.”

That evening, as the city lights began to twinkle against the darkening sky, William took you to a quiet rooftop bar, a stark contrast to the one you met at. The view of the Toronto skyline was breathtaking, and the mood between you shifted. You weren’t just two people exploring a city anymore—there was an undercurrent of something deeper, something you both felt but didn’t quite put into words.

You ended up at his place that night, the air thick with anticipation. His apartment was modern, sleek, with floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a stunning view of the city. But you barely noticed it. Your focus was on him, the way he looked at you, the way his hands felt on your skin, gentle yet insistent.

The nights that followed were electric, filled with quiet murmurs and heated kisses, bodies intertwined in the dark. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing. Just the two of you, giving in to the pull that had been building since you fell into his arms. It was intense, thrilling, and everything you hadn’t realized you were waiting for.

You stayed for the full week. You explored more of the city together, visited Kensington Market, strolled through the Royal Ontario Museum, and even caught a Leafs game where he introduced you to his teammates. They were charming and funny, ribbing William for finally bringing a girl around. “This one must be special,” Mitch joked, and while you laughed it off, part of you wondered if it was true.

But as the days went on, something shifted.

You’ve been here longer than planned, each day blurring into the next in a way that feels easy, natural. But there’s something different about William tonight. He’s quieter, more distant, the usual spark missing from his eyes. You’re curled up on his couch, his arm thrown around you,  the Toronto skyline glittering through the window–-but there’s an unease hanging between you.

“I’ve been thinking,” William starts, his voice low, as if he’s trying to find the right words. He’s sitting right beside you, although he doesn’t dare meet your gaze, fingers tapping restlessly against your shoulder. “About us. About this.”

Your heart stutters. “What do you mean?”

He finally looks at you, eyes soft, but there’s an underlying tension there. “I just… I didn’t think it’d get this serious this fast. I mean, I like you. I really do. But…” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t expect it to be this… much.”

The weight of his words sinks in slowly, a cold pit forming in your stomach. You don’t say anything at first, waiting for him to continue, to explain what exactly he’s trying to say.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is, I need to keep things casual. For now. It’s a lot, you being here, and I’m just… I don’t know if I can handle more with everything going on.”

There it is. The words you didn’t want to hear. The same ones you’d feared might come, lingering in the back of your mind ever since you landed in Toronto.He’s exactly like the rest of them. And believing that he was worth it?

Well, that was just gullible of you.

[dollgxtz]

Getting Closer

Word Count: 4.6k

Tags: sylus x fem!reader, cnc, stalking roleplay, rough sex, taunting, home invasion roleplay, crying, pet names like kitten, and sweetie, spanking

AN: Hiii again! Tyvm for 900 notes on my last story!!! I didn't think dark romance content with Sylus would be popular with ppl (I keep seeing convos about people mis-characterizing him). But honestly I think people should write him however they see fit!! I love seeing different interpretations! However, one things for certain. This man is definitely into primal play and no one can convince me other wise. This is loosely based on the midnight stealth story where he says "You're pretty good at running away" and "I truly enjoy watching my little prey struggle, especially when it thinks it can escape from me"

AHHHH ENOUGH TYPING ENJOYYYYY!!! (✿˶’◡˘)♡

Its a late evening and you and your dearest coworker Tara (who you basically considered your bestie at this point) were having a delicious dinner at one of the most high rated restaurants in Linkon. What was the occasion? Nothing special actually, Tara was just an intense foodie and felt the need to drag you to practically every restaurant in the city when she was feeling a particular craving. Not that you minded, it was actually nice to get to do something other than fighting for once. The Wanderers had been getting more frequent lately, and it seemed like every other day you were being called to fight them off.

Tara was busy chatting away about her own exhaustion from work, how badly her last haircut had gone, and some guy she had met on the subway that couldn't seem to leave her alone. You could only giggle as she went on and on about him. Despite her obvious distaste for the guy, you thought he actually seemed pretty well rounded. You had been hesitating on telling her about Sylus. You didn't worry that he was going to leave you for Tara, nothing ridiculous like that. He was just...hard to explain. I mean what could you say?

"Oh yeah, I'm dating the leader of Onychinus, yeah the one that escaped from space prison and rules the N109 Zone...did I mention he probably owns this restaurant? But don't worry he's SUCH a sweet guy if you get to know him!"

Yeah...probably wouldn't go well. You let out an exasperated sigh, looking out of the restaurants tall window. It was a bit chilly tonight, no doubt it would start snowing soon. You turn to Tara again, whose still in the middle of her stories of her bad dates. You're about to ask her if she's ready for the check when your phone rings.

Tara gets a dangerous look in her eye and before you can even blink she snatches your phone off the table and abruptly answers.

"Is this the mysterious handsome boyfriend my friend wont tell me about?" she coos, blocking your attempts to grab your phone. "Tara!! Please!" you exclaim, trying your hardest to not get the attention of the other patrons.

You feel your ears heat up as you get up from the booth. She laughs at something he says as you finally get your device from her grasp. She huffs in amusement from her little joke. You put the phone to your ear to hear Sylus chuckling a bit.

"Sorry ...um, what did you want?" you say lowly, trying to get yourself together.

"I'm guessing that's...Tessa?" Sylus says, clearly amused by the situation. He's got that...tone in his voice. The one he uses when he's toying with you. You feel your face heat up, trying to keep your cool with Tara watching close next to you.

"Tara" you correct, coldly, shooting her a death glare. "She's still got a few screws loose clearly". She giggles at this comment and you sigh.

"She seems pretty funny to me"

"What did you want? I was just about to head ho-"

"I really like your hair today, kitten" Sylus says, his voice seemingly lower and...dark?

You feel the hairs on your neck stand up, immediately you begin to scan the restaurant. He hasn't seen you today at all...is he in the restaurant? Is Mephisto outside somewhere tattling again? You scan everywhere but no sight of either one of them.

"Cat got your tongue sweetie?"

You swallow, turning back to the phone. "I see you have nothing better to do than send that damn bird to spy on me again. I'm taking him apart when I find him" you say, trying your hardest to sound calm.

Tara tilts her head in confusion, and you give her an awkward grin. Dammit. You'll have to explain it off as an inside joke or something later. Sylus chuckles again on the other end, sending a million thoughts racing in your head.

"Who said anything about Mephisto? He's back at home, probably resting".

"Then how..." your voice trails off, the words seemingly stuck in your throat. Curse this man, always playing his stupid mind games with you.

"What do you mean how? I can see you of course. How else would I know sweetie?"

Ah...so he is here. He's just hiding from you, probably enjoying the look of your panicked face and you wiping your sweaty palms on your skirt.

"That skirt will roll up pretty easy don't you think, kitten?" Sylus says, drawing out every syllable. You can hear the smile through the phone and it infuriates you. But it also forms a knot in your stomach from excitement. He's got you right where he wants you clearly.

You suddenly hang up on him, barely able to bear the tension forming in you heart and stomach. You sigh and turn your attention back to your very worried coworker. "Um...sorry. I think we should probably get the check don't you think? Its late haha..." you trail off, trying to look less stressed. What was that idiot thinking?? There's no way you were gonna do that in public. You try looking through the window again, trying to spot even a tall silhouette somewhere but nothing...where is he???

You feel cold fingers touch your shoulder, and you whip your head to face Tara. "I'm sorry if I made you upset...or him. Is everything okay with you both?" she asks, her brows furrowed in confusion. Your head spins trying to come up with some explanation for your panic. Is there even a good excuse? No way you could tell her that its some kind of sex game you both indulge in right???

"Umm, look its fine!! Nothing to worry about Tara, I forgive you" you say quickly, gathering your things into your bag. "I have to go though, lets get the check yeah?"

Tara, albeit still puzzled, nods her head in agreement. "Lets meet here again next week! But please, if you ever need to talk to me I'm here okay?" she says softly, before leaning in to give you a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. You both chat for a bit before the waiter comes with the check, bidding each other goodbye once the bill was settled.

You open the door to the restaurant and shiver as the crisp, early winter air envelopes your body. It wasn't nearly this cold earlier and you curse yourself for picking this stupid thin skirt to wear. The sun has long set and its dark. The moon gives the street a nice glow however, which settles your nerves a little.

Your phone rings.

You stop dead in your tracks, debating if you should even pick up. With shaky fingers, you finally answer.

"You know I don’t like being hung up on, where’s your manners hm?" Sylus asks. You glance over your shoulder, half expecting to see his annoying grin, but there's nothing there. You nod absentmindedly and murmur a quick "whatever" as you keep walking. Maybe if you stay quiet, you’ll catch the sound of his footsteps and figure out his location?

"You're close...aren't you Sylus?" you say, trying to sound confident in your question. In all honesty you had no idea.

"Obviously. I can smell that vanilla perfume I love so much. You should wear it more often"

"Its not really that good of a scent, too sweet. I don't like it..." you mutter, voice shaking as you walk. You hear a crunch behind you and you whip your head around. Unfortunately, its just some stray cats scurrying about near some trash cans. You cant tell whether your relieved or more frightened that its not Sylus.

"We both know that's not true. You always wear it on our dates..." he chuckles through the phone, as if it finds it amusing. "Always trying to impress me, how cute”.

Ah, so he did notice. You found it kind of freaky how observant he was sometimes. He probably knew you better than yourself at times. But this confirmed something very important. He was close, close enough to smell you. Did you pass by him by accident and didn't notice? You start walking a bit faster, hoping to catch the last subway home before in leaves the station.

"Zip it" you growl into the phone. You look up ahead, spotting some mirrors being displayed in some glass displays. Ah hah...maybe you'll see glimpses of him if you stop by?

You abruptly stop in front of one of the mirrors, pretending to admire your appearance.

"Do you think I should wear my hair like this more often Sylus?" you ask, narrowing your eyes to look in the reflection. There is someone, but its not Sylus. Just a disheveled looking guy smoking a cigarette.

"Using the reflection are we? What a clever little kitten you are...~"

He hangs up.

You spin around, hoping to catch sight of him. I mean c'mon, he's over 6ft, wide shoulders, and white hair. He should be easy to spot, even in the dark. But again, nothing.

But you know he's still watching you. You can feel it. You begin to hug yourself, partly out of fear but also out of being cold. You needed to hurry if you didn't want to be stuck walking the rest of the way to your apartment.

Part of you didn't want to admit it but this was exciting. You liked Sylus when he was sweet yes...but you liked it more when he was dangerous. You keep up a slightly fast pace, trying to keep your head on a swivel. You battle between feeling scared and confident, your stomach in shambles.

You turn your head as you enter the crowd of people waiting to board the subway. All of them seemingly tired and needing somewhere to be. You swipe your subway pass through the gate lock and it opens.

Your phone rings again, and out of instinct you hang up on him. Then you get an idea. You call back.

The distinct ring tone of Sylus's phone can barely be heard over the noise of people chattering but you hear it!! You strain to hear it but it only rings once before he picks up.

"You always manage to impress me with how clever you are. Too bad it won't save you in the end...will it?" Sylus chuckles.

"Quit talking and stop hiding prick" you spat, looking around.

"Ah ah ah, patience sweetie. Unless you want me to take what's mine in front of all these people?"

You can tell by Sylus's tone that he's losing his resolve. More importantly his patience. No doubt he'd be turning up the intensity of yall's little game very soon. You shiver, imagining you pinned underneath him, whining and mewling from his cock while people pass.

"What's your plan kitten?" he asks, the sounds of brakes and doors opening echoing through the phone. "I know where you live, I know what turns you make, what your street looks like. You know you can't outrun me"

"Ha, well I know that you cant hide forever, Sylus" you say triumphantly. You step onto the subway, trying your hardest to push past people.

That's when you see it. The white hair, the red eyes. Your gazes find each other almost instantly. Despite walking into your trap, Sylus's mouth forms an almost villainous grin and he starts taking strides towards you. The door shuts behind him.

You hang up.

Thankfully, people pile behind you, giving you some cover from him. You turn your head over your shoulder, watching him closely. He's wearing a black turtleneck with a brown winter jacket made somewhat of leather. He's broad, and tall and yet blends in fine with the people around him.

You watch as he scans every face and seat he passes. You attempt to back up but are met with a few disgruntled people telling you to stop pushing. You're trapped. Panicking, you try to think. Maybe you could get off a stop early? No, he'd definitely get to your place before you. You have to get home and lock the doors, maybe barricade if you have to. All you can do is think to press yourself against the glass doors to hopefully be the first one off.

You turn around, and realize he's staring you down intently. Somehow he had made his way right behind you without you noticing. He towers above you, blocking your view of other people.

Shit shit shit.

His expression, once smug, now drops. His eyes glare at you from under his brow. You feel frozen, like a deer in headlights. Like true prey. All you can think to do in the moment is turn back around, avoiding his gaze. Sure, he's got you pinned now. But he won't do anything with all these people around right?

You feel him lean down, breath hot against your ear.

"Did you really think you could escape from me?" he growls, trailing a finger down the curve of your spine. You shiver from his touch, your instincts screaming at you to bolt away from him immediately.

"I do like to play with my prey a little...but you know I always find you" he says, resting a hand on your hip now. Your shaking now, whether from fear or excitement, you don't really know. He's so close you can feel the hardness of his erection against your ass. He's definitely at his limit now.

Not wanting him to think he's won just yet, you remain silent and whip your head away from him. You look at the faces of your fellow passengers but no one seems to notice you. They're all busy engrossed in their phones or conversations.

"No ones going to help you kitten". He mocks. He gets even closer, resting his arm on the wall beside you, angling his body so no one can see you. He takes his free hand and slides it under your shirt, caressing your soft tummy, up to your belly button, eventually settling on the roundness of your breasts.

You desperately try to reach up to remove his hands but of course to no avail, it doesn't work. You feel heat rising to your face...but not only there. An aching, hot feeling in the core of your stomach and between your legs engulfs you.

"Sylus...really? Here?" you ask, voice shaking, trying your best to hold in a whimper. Sylus doesn't answer, only continuing touch your breasts. His thumb and index finger rests on one of your nipples, pinching it slightly. You nearly drop to the ground, pain and pleasure sweeping through your core.

'What's wrong? I can touch you wherever and whenever I please" he says plainly, continuing his assault on your nipple. "You're mine".

As if trying to prove a point, his hands comes off your breast and dips underneath your skirt. He swiftly but roughly begins to press his fingers against your pussy over the fabric of your underwear. You gasp at the suddenness of the assault, your knees threatening to buck underneath you. You grab his wrist in an attempt to stop him but he ignores you.

"I should just take you right here. What do you think sweetie?" he whispers in your ear, clearly enjoying the sight of your distraught face.

As if the universe decided to grant mercy on you, the robotic voice of the intercom suddenly announces the name of your stop.

The doors open. You lose your balance, but quickly recover before you eat gravel. You don't even bother to look behind you, you just start bolting, trying to put as much distance between you and Sylus as you can.

"Aww, kitten where are you going? We're just getting started" Sylus chimes from behind you. No doubt not even bothering to chase after you. You knew he'd catch up in his own ways. Ignoring him, you keep bolting, all that track during high school thankfully being good for something.

You make a sharp turn into an alley, your stamina beginning to falter but you know you cant stop. Your phone rings, and in a burst of anger you answer.

"Quit calling!" your voice a mix of anger, desperation and fear, which gives Sylus a good chuckle once more. He's completely unphased by your little tantrum.

"I must ask, why pick an alley? Are you trying to make this easy for me?" he teases.

You turn your head, almost gasping when you see the familiar silhouette of Sylus.

Then he moves. Long, quick strides and he's already closed the distance between you two. He's whistling a familiar tune, no doubt from one of his many records. You recognize it almost immediately, its one of your favorites. But now rather than soothing, its just rather unnerving.

You snap out of your frozen state and keep bolting, narrowly missing Sylus's attempt to grab your hair.

"My kitten is still fairly quick, I see. Good job sweetie" he praises, his footsteps still not far behind you. You know his words are made mockingly. He could've easily grabbed you with his Evol if he wanted to. He's simply toying with you now. Playing with his food.

You turn sharply out of the alleyway, the sight of the gates to your apartment building in view. Safety. Its so close. A rush of adrenaline courses through your veins. The wind whips past your face as you push your body past its limits. The night is even colder now with the sweat pouring all down your body. Your hair is even sticking to your neck and face now but all you can think about is bolting up the stairs and locking yourself away.

You made it to the base of the stairs, wasting no time to run up the stairs. There it is.

You hear footsteps behind you.

The door. Now. GO. You dash through your doorway, cursing yourself about why the door was even unlocked in the first place. But in this situation? It was a blessing in disguise.

That was the fastest you had ever locked a door in your life. You scanned the room making quick work of pushing the sofa against the door and a few chairs.

You collapse.

Your breathes come in uneven, staccato bursts, sweat having drenched your shirt by now. You rip it off over your head, the clamminess unbearable. Now only in your bra and skirt, you're able to breathe a bit. As you start to collect your thoughts, you freeze.

Wait. The balcony.

Fuck.

You get up quickly, rounding the corner to lock the balcony doors. Thankfully, they're still shut when you reach over to lock it.

Yes!! You won?? Did he give up?

There's nothing but silence and the sound of your ac humming for a few short moments. You start to question if Sylus actually did leave you alone, when your phone suddenly rings. You answer it. confidence ringing in your voice.

"I win Sylus. Thanks for the little game though" you retort, still attempting to catch your breath.

"Are you sure about that?" He asks. His voice is cool and calm. "How sure are you that you got to the balcony before I did?"

"Wha-I would've heard you Sylus..." you say with uncertainty. You weren't sure anymore. You look around. Your apartment isn't the biggest. No way he got in here without you noticing.

"Would you have heard me?"

"Pfft. You don't scare me" you spat, backing away from the balcony doors.

You hear him chuckle. "I guess I almost had you didn't I?". You make your way towards your the middle of your living room.

"Say...what do you think would've happened if I caught you kitten?"

Your thoughts stir in your nearly silent apartment. You aren't sure how to answer him, anxiety knotting in your stomach. You start making your way to your bedroom, with your face towards the balcony, watching it with intensity.

"Surprise...~"

You nearly jump out of your skin, a scream ripping through your throat as large arms wrap around your waist and lift you. Sylus is quick to cover your mouth, dragging your kicking and distraught form towards your bedroom.

He got in before you. Of course he did. He can be lightening fast after all.

You bite his hand, hard. He simply chuckles, causing you to get even more desperate.

"Let me go!" you yell.

"Sure sweetie" he drops you to the ground, giving you a small window of opportunity to run. You try, but he instantly grabs your hair, twisting it into his grip. You yelp, tears forming from the sudden pain. The more you struggle the more it hurts. You desperately try removing his hand but of course he doesn't budge.

He watches you with a pitiful look, rolling his eyes.

"So fucking predictable, as usual"

He starts dragging you across the hard marble floor. Your scalp feels like its on fire, each and every strand being stressed with every pull. He finally reaches your bedroom, wasting no time to bend you over the bed. You push back against him, attempting to kick him. He pulls your head back by your hair. You nearly scream, letting out a sob. Tears stream down your face as you try to look at him, pleading.

"Please, I'm sorry. Please don't" you beg. He simply laughs. You feel his Evol wrapping around you.

"None of those are safe words sweetie"

You choke back on tears. You're practically soaked now. And it wasn't sweat. You feel utterly helpless, trapped underneath him, begging to be freed. He reaches up a hand, undoing the clasps of your bra with one hand. Its falls off your chest effortlessly, leaving you exposed.

"Thanks for making this part easy. Though this skirt is still in the way" he mutters. He pins you to the bed, rolling your skirt up to reveal the skin of your ass.

"Sylus...please" you whimper. Your only answer from him is the sudden sting from a sudden slap to the ass. You yelp in pain, the hot achiness between your legs rising. He rips your underwear in two with swiftness.

"Sylus, please" he mocks, you can hear the grin on his face. 'Telling me you don't want this and yet your dripping all down your leg"

He slides a finger along your cunt, making your legs buck. He rolls a finger around your cunt a few times, earning a symphonies of moans from you. You're already desperate to cum and he's barely done anything to you. Breath ragged, legs shaking, your about to beg him to let you finish when he suddenly pulls away.

???

You're confused until you hear the sound of his belt unbuckle. Is he...going to fuck you already? Not that your disappointed at all. You brace yourself for a sudden intrusion when your met with the sharp sting. You yelp, the surprise of the attack sending shivers down your body. But he doesn't stop, he hits your ass again. And again. Then again. And again.

You feel like your about to pass out. The pain is overwhelming all your senses. But part of you doesn't want him to stop. Your sure you have belt shaped bruises littering your ass by now. The tears have completely clouded your vision. You cant see a thing.

"You're so pretty when you cry sweetie. So pretty~". Sylus reaches a hand up to your faces and wipes some tears away. He leans over, lifting your chin to look up at him.

"Are you doing okay?" his tone is soft, his expression a mix of wonder and worry. You nod enthusiastically, letting him know you're still enjoying this.

"Aw. Lets change that shall we?" he says, his soft expression turning into a smug grin. Your smile drops and your heart starts pound again.

This bastard.

He gives you one last hard whip to the ass before you hear the belt drop to the floor. Then the sound of him unzipping of his pants follows. Your pulse quickens in anticipation. You can't move though, his evol keeping you firmly in place. He puts his hand back in your hair, tugging just enough to remind you of your place beneath him. You feel him align his hips with yours.

"Sylus, I-"

Then he's pushing into you. You're so wet that all it takes is one fluid motion and he's in. Doesn't hurt any less though. You stifle a scream, trying desperately through your tears to beg him to pull out. His pace is deep and slow. It feels almost akin to torture. The head of his cock presses against your g-spot, building a painful high in your abdomen. The hour of teasing and adrenaline rush has you beyond overstimulated, you feel ready to burst at any moment but its not enough stimulation. You stay bordering on the edge of heaven, and yet he doesn't allow you to cross over. It feels like hours as he keeps getting you right to the tip of finishing and then slows down. It hurts so bad, and your crying over and over.

"Sylus...it hurts" you whimper.

"Its supposed to"

"Sylus...please" you beg, your voice shaking from desperation.

"Calm down kitten"

"Sylus-'

"I said calm yourself. Or I'll stop now. Do you want that?"

You whimper in disagreement, face planting into the bed once more. Sylus lifts your head by the chin, leaning down to give you a small kiss on the cheek. You look so beautiful right now, the puffiness and red of your eyes turning him on even more. He speaks, his voice hard and cold.

"Always so greedy. Spoiled brat."

With little to no warning, he slams his cock into your aching cunt. You gasp in shock, but have no time to process anything as he fucks you faster and harder with each thrust. Your so overstimulated that it only takes a few thrusts to make you cum. Your body tenses and shakes as you come undone on his cock. Your moaning while gasping for air, feeling the best you've ever felt and yet on the verge of passing out.

Sylus feels your cunt tighten so hard around him that he can't help but also come undone himself. You hear a small and faint "Fuck..." but your head is spinning too much to hear much else. You're in a trance practically.

You feel the stickiness of his cum dripping down your thigh and then your out like a light. Adrenaline and overstimulation had gotten the best of you. Sylus chuckles and gently lifts you onto your bed, pulling the sheets over your worn out body.

When you wake up, your eyes and head hurt so so bad. Your vision is blurry too. You attempt too blink the blurriness away.

Sylus.

You sit up, looking for him. Did he leave already? You look at the clock, the red hue of the lights read that its three in the morning.

"S-sylus?" you whimper, feeling slightly abandoned.

"Calm down sweetie, I'm here. Its cute watching you search for me though" he says, his figure appearing in the doorway. He's holding a water bottle and a wet rag. He sits next to you, and starts gently wiping the dried tears from your face. You look down, your thighs still a sticky mess of cum, sweat and desperation from earlier. Sylus smiles a bit, laughing under his breath.

"I figured I could run you a shower when you woke up" he says, stretching out his hand for you. "Although the plumbing here is...less than adequate I guess I could join you".

You roll your eyes, laughing at his dumb remark before taking his hand in yours. You cant help but crack a smile.

"Yeah, lets go"

[beardedhandstoadshark]

I need a new niche interest to obsess over and I’m not able to pick. Can you infodump about your own hyperfixations so I can adopt one of them?

Just to ask something here, because between the last ask about hyperfixations and this one I found out that’s actually strictly an adhd term, right? Cuz regardless of suspicions I kinda don’t really have an official diagnosis or anything, so answering this ask As Is seems a bit like indirectly pretending I do, which seems?? Kinda mean to lead you on like that?? So, yeah. Just wanted to clarify/apologize/make sure everything’s cool and comfy here

But anyways, infodumping! I mean, there’s the usual, the videogames, kirby, pokemon, Zelda, minecraft, etrian odyssey- but those are like half this blog anyways and minus the last one not very niche so I kinda doubt they’re gonna be interesting. Uhhhhhhh if the following isn‘t doing it for you please tell me and I‘ll try to find something else, but otherwise

DID YOU KNOW CUCUMBERS ARE CACTI!?

Well not really. But I’m growing some right now and a) their leaves a *gigantic* and b) they’re very fuzzy but also kinda rough because of their hairs, while their stems are full on prickly- I’m guessing it’s a safety mechanism because the cucumbers grow very close to the stems so it makes sense, but having tiny plant-glass shards in your hand still hurts lol. Also depending on the sort, the cucumbers themselves can also have actual spikes. Their flowers are really pretty, they’re big and yellow with 5 leaves, kinda remind me of hibiscuses without the middle thingy. There’s usually separated male and female flowers (unlike tomatoes or peppers) but some variations are bred to only produce female flowers that pollinate themselves, and when they need the male ones for their seeds they make the plants grow those by using silver-ions, which sounds kinda metal ngl (pun absolutely intended). Also their tendrils? Twines? Are super strong for how tiny they are compared to the plant, if they feel something climbable they really latch on to that and don’t let go. They’re actually touch sensitive, kinda like Venus fly traps. Not as instantaneous though lol, it does take a bit of time.

I’ve also got two begonias that I saved from getting thrown into the trash, and apparently their flowers are edible…?? They are really pretty though. And change colors depending on sunlight! They’re apparently supposed to be sitting in half-shadows but mine are taking the sunlight pretty well and turns out if they get a lot, the plant gets redder- not just the flowers but also the leaves and the stems! They’re also male-female separated, with the male ones having differently shaped leaves (and I think I also counted 5 instead of 4?) that’re on top of a capsule holding the seeds, which are microscopically small! You can barely see them and gotta "plant“ them by brushing them like super fine sand. Also apparently another way of growing new ones is by just. Breaking off a branch and sticking it in the mud? Which is?? Super weird??? Because these guys are very fleshy and on normal difficulty, while the only other plant I know you can clone like that is my bow hemps.

And those guys are basically indestructible. Like, normally that credit goes to cacti but those need light. Meanwhile my big guy‘s been hanging out in my no-light-after-11am-room all this time and doing great. They only need water once a week normally but I forgot yet because it’s been sitting in shadows this guys been groovin though 3 weeks. There’s even a tiny baby plant growing! They only grow a single flower per cluster so the main way of getting more is by either chopping said babies away from the mother cluster, or by chopping leaves horizontally so you get stripes, and sticking those in soil. Apparently it can take months until something grows, though. Also when you use this method with the sort that has yellow stripes on the side, it‘ll lose those stripes? Even though the leaf stripe (and therefore the genes) has that yellow in it? Couldn’t find why that happens yet, but it’s interesting. The only way to really screw up with them is either bugs in the soil (though they can tank those too to some degree), or getting too much. Nutrients, but mostly water. It’s better to use pots that‘re a bit tighter and also have holes underneath because the biggest threat is rot, either root or stem rot. That’s also why you shouldn’t give them (or any plants that grow in this circle form) water from above, because it’ll get stuck inside the center and cause rot. It’s better to fill something up with water and put the pot inside, that way you also don’t risk giving them too much water and having it soak your entire floor/desk/etc. Also pots with holes are just better in general because all flowers got the same "too much water = drowned roots“ problem. (Except for my begonias for some reason which frequently get their entire soil drowned and still grow like nothing - even though they’re supposed to take it especially bad?? Not complaining though, just confused)

And tomatoes are berries which makes a lot of sense if you think about it but also feels horribly wrong since they’re neither sweet nor sour

[disaster-writer]

Obsessed

Pairing: Pro-hero!Bakugo Katsuki x Reader

Summary: Bakugo is obsessed with your ex and it’s driving you up a wall (Inspired by Olivia Rodrigo’s song Obsessed)

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Smut, 18+

A/N: a few weeks ago I saw a post that was about this same concept, and I couldn’t find it to link it here unfortunately. I just thought it fit so well with him that I wanted to write my own take on it. Also this is just comedy, obviously his behavior in this would be problematic in real life so I’m definitely not condoning his obsession.

Minors DNI

Bakugo Katsuki’s eyes danced from cover to cover of every one of the magazines stocked in the stand at the convenience store he regularly stopped at after work. Each one baring a hero with advertisements of their interview inside. He noticed that some of his friends had even made the cover, notably Shitty Hair’s and Racoon Eye’s engagement announcement and a magazine that Dunce Face had recently modeled for.

But there was one specific cover he was glaring at.

His hands crackled.

Fuck it.

He hadn’t hesitated any longer before grabbing the magazine and staring at it with scrutinizing eyes.

Fucking Hawks

That fucking asshole was on the cover of another magazine— as if the other million with him on it wasn’t good enough.

He rifled through the pages, landing on the one that the cover said his interview would be on. It wasn’t one, or two, but four fucking pages long.

He read it furiously, eyes bouncing from each and every word.

‘What would you say is the most rewarding part of your hero work?’

Who gives a crap.

‘How have you learned to balance fame with being a hero?’

Absolute shit question.

‘Everyone knows you have a large female fanbase, so we’re all curious to know why you think that is?’

Because they’re all fucking idiots with shit taste, that’s why.

‘About two years ago you were part of a pretty big scandal when you were seen leaving your agency hand in hand with a hooded woman. Now that some time has passed are you willing to admit that she’s your girlfriend?’

No she was his fucking girlfriend, not that fucking asshole pretty boys—

The magazine blew up in his hands.

”Hey!” The store clerk yelled at the hero, “I don’t care if you’re a hero, you have to pay for that! What kind of business do you think I’m running!?”

“HAH!?” Bakugo puffed up his chest with a sneer as he stormed up to the counter, “MAYBE YOU SHOULDN’T KEEP SHIT MAGAZINES HERE IF YOU DON’T WANT THEM BLOWN UP! GET SOME BETTER SHIT! I’M OUTTA HERE!” He yelled furiously at the man before storming out of the store and slamming the door shut, shattering its glass.

The clerk ran up to the door in a rage, screaming something or other at the hero as he stormed down the sidewalk angrily.

He’d probably need to find a new convenience store.

Bakugo continued to stomp his way down the sidewalk as he walked to your apartment. He shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled his phone out, pulling up google.

He found his fingers quickly tapping away at the screen.

Hawks

Picture after picture of that stupid hero came up and his finger swiped through each one as he sneered at his stupid face that even Bakugo couldn’t deny was objectively attractive— not to mention he had this air of coolness around him, making every single goddamned thing he did seem effortless.

Bakugo was seething, passerby’s staring at him in fear as they watched him silently rage on such a beautiful, clear day.

Before he knew it, he was standing in front of your door, shoving the spare key under the mat into the lock.

”Hey, Kat!” You chirped, looking over at him from the kitchen, “How was work?”

“Fine,” he grumbled, walking over to you and taking a peak at the dinner you were cooking. Looked like chicken soup but knowing you and your cooking skills it was probably some amalgamation of whatever was in your fridge. “Couldn’t fuckin wait an hour?”he grumbled— he would’ve cooked for you if you weren’t so damn impatient.

”You were taking too long,” you whined, throwing some celery into the pot. “I got hungry.”

He grunted, reaching for your hips and turning you into him, slamming his lips into yours.

Hawks probably used to kiss you more gently— he could just picture him seducing you into kissing him, making you chase for it. 

Not Bakugo. No, if he wanted to kiss you then he was going to fucking kiss you.

You pulled away breathlessly, a hairs breadth away from him, “Whoa— what was that for?”

He stared down at you with hooded eyes.

He was better than Hawks.

He could even prove it.

He turned the stove off and picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder.

”Hey— what are you doing!” You yelped, kicking your legs. 

“Bedroom,” he grunted.

”But what about dinner?” 

“I’ll fix whatever mess you started in there later. I’m making sure you work up a real appetite.”

* * * *

Bakugo’s hips smacked against your ass sharply, balls hitting your clit with every thrust, each slap louder than your muffled moans in the pillow you clung to for dear life.

One hand gripped the headboard as his other gripped your hip in a bruising hold. He stared at you, hunched over your trembling body as tears clung to your lashes.

Hawks couldn’t fuck you like this— no damn way. 

But what if he could— he technically was the number two hero, while Bakugo was still stuck at number 15.

What if he fucked you better?

The thought had Bakugo fisting your hair and pulling you up, freeing your pleasured moans and cries.

”K-Kat— ah, fuck—“

Did you even mean to say his name? What if you really meant to say Hawks’— what if you meant Hawks every single time you ever said his name?

”Tell me you’re mine,” he grunted.

”’M yours— all yours Kat— only yours,” you babbled uselessly. He’d be lying if it wasn’t one of his favorite things about you in bed, given any sort of prompt and you just ran with it. 

“Who fucks you this good?”

”Y-you! You do!— You fuck me so good Kat—ah- best cock I’ve ever had—“

He growled, wrapping his arms around you and hoisting you up, now fucking up into you as he held you against him, head lolling on his shoulder.

He bit down on your neck hard, making you cry out as he started sucking on it, sure to leave a nasty hickey behind.

Maybe Hawks would see. He knew neither of you even talked anymore but what if he’s just on patrol, sees you, decides to say hi, and finds that dark bruise right on your neck, sucked raw.

The thought had him bouncing you faster against him, his muffled groans into your neck sounding with your high pitched cries of his name.

He wound his hand down to your clit and rubbed back and forth furiously.

”Oh fuck—“ you sobbed, body arching and trying to get away, but he tightened his arm around you and held you in place.

”Cum pretty girl, cum around the best fucking cock you’ve ever taken.”

You came with a shrill cry, grasping for any part of him you could hold onto.

He came soon after, inside. 

He knew he shouldn’t but something about cumming in you sated whatever beast was inside him.

You whined as you slumped into his arms, weak and shaky.

”You promised Kat.”

”Couldn’t help it.”

”Then you’re wearing condoms again.” You huffed as he lowered you down on your side of the bed.

He tsked, “Go on birth control.”

”I’m not fucking with my hormones.”

”Damn woman,” he growled, laying beside you, “I’ll get you a plan B, just quit your whining.”

”You’re wearing a condom next time.”

”Yeah yeah, fine.”

”And go make dinner.”

He pulled you against him, your body curling against him with your head on his chest. “In a second. Lemme catch my breath and help clean you up first.”

You huffed but nuzzled against him. 

He liked having you curled up against him but he couldn’t deny there was an ulterior motive to him ‘catching his breath’.

He just really loved the fact that you were laying with his cum dripping out of you right now.

Not Hawks’s cum— Katsuki’s

The rest of the night went as it routinely did for the most part. He fixed the mess of the soup you were working on before eating you out and making you cum three times then fucking you for a second time… then a third time.

And when you thought he was finally done, you went to shower and get on with your shower routine only for him to walk in half way through your shower with his dick hard again.

He fucked you for a fourth time.

All with a condom.

”Seven times,”  you breathed as your head hit the pillow. “You made me cum seven times tonight.”

Your limbs were sore, Bakugo had to carry you to bed. Your legs were basically useless now. 

“What’s gotten into you tonight— it’s only a Tuesday.”

Marathon’s like these weren’t exactly out of the norm, but tonight felt so unprompted. 

He grunted, turning on his side and pulling you against his chest, clinging to you like a Koala.

”I’m not allowed to want to fuck my girlfriend?” He murmured into your hair.

”No… just felt out of no where that’s all.”

”What? You didn’t like it?” He growled defensively.

You rolled your eyes, slotting your legs with his. Everything was always so dramatic with him, “No I liked it. Best cock I’ve ever had, remember?” You snickered.

His arms tightened around you… now he was thinking of the other cock you’ve taken.

”Better than the birds?”

“Oh my god,” you hissed, annoyance dripping from every word, “Really Katsuki? This again?”

”What? It’s a simple fucking question.”

”Yes. Your cocks better than Keigo’s. Happy now?”

Silence filled the room. You thought maybe he dropped it and you closed your eyes.

”Are you just saying that to shut me up?”

”Kat,” you snapped, eyes opening again. “Drop it. I’ve already told you everything about that relationship. Just move the fuck on— I already have.”

He was silent once again.

”Do you still have his number in your phone?”

You cursed to yourself… this was going to be a longer night than you thought.

* * * *

Bakugo stared out the window as you snored lightly in your sleep, burying his nose in your freshly washed hair.

He couldn’t sleep knowing he was laying in the same spot Hawks once had.

Did he used to hold you just like this too?

When you mentioned your ex in past conversations he had thought nothing of it. You were a civilian, your life was normal, he always figured this ex you mentioned was some boring ass nine to five guy that put the most generic shit in a dating profile like ‘Favorite Hobby: Traveling’.

Of course Bakugo would be better than that guy.

Come to find out you were in a long term relationship with the number fucking two hero.

What the fuck was it about you that attracted high ranking heroes of all people. 

Like yeah you were cool and fun and magnetic and didn’t take shit from anyone— you were even able to go head to head with him in a screaming match which shouldn’t have been as attractive as he found it. Not to mention how fucking hot you were…

Okay fine, Bakugo thought you were goddamned perfect any man would be a fucking idiot if they didn’t find you any less than perfect like he did.

But still.

Number fucking two.

Hawks had always been cool and collected, saving people every day without lifting a finger. He dominated the skies and had a trail of girls drooling after him. The media loved him— everyone loved him.

Bakugo on the other hand… not so much. How could you go from someone like Hawks to Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight.

From number two to number 15.

One day he would become number one but he still wasn’t quite there yet.

Ever since he found out he had found himself thinking of the hero more than he ever had before. Hawks dominated every second of his life.

Is he still friends with your friends? Is he good in bed? Do you ever think about him? Is he easy-going? Not controlling like Bakugo sometimes could be?

Oh god.

He had issues.

* * * * 

“Y’know they were in love,” Bakugo practically gagged.

Kirishima side eyed his friend.

He was seriously over talking about Hawks every single time he patrolled with Bakugo.

”Isn’t she in love with you now?”

”That’s what she says,” he grumbled.

”You don’t believe her?”

”No, I believe her. I just think she’s confused.”

He was really starting to lose it, huh?

”Don’t you think,” Kirishima started, choosing his next words carefully as he waved at a little kid they walked by, elbowing Bakugo to do the same. “It’s unhealthy to think about your girlfriend’s ex this much? It’s been like two years since they broke up hasn’t it?”

”19 months and three days.”

Oh boy.

”Okay… have you tried talking to her about your obsession—“

”IT’S NOT A FUCKING OBSESSION!” He suddenly exploded, hands crackling. “WHY DOES EVERYONE KEEP SAYING THAT!”

Kirishima didn’t even flinch as he screamed, instead offering an apologetic smile to the civilians on the sidewalk. “Maybe because you started asking how he is in bed after you two had sex?”

”SHUT UP SHITTY HAIR, NO ONE ASKED YOU!”

“So you haven’t talked to her then?”

Bakugo growled in response.

”Maybe talk to him?”

Bakugo looked over at his friend, eyes wide as he watched Kirishima walk beside him with his arms crossed behind his head, staring up at the sky. “Talk to Hawks?”

The idea had never struck him before.

”Yeah. Maybe you just need to meet him. You’ve probably just built up this grand image of him that the media keeps perpetuating— he might not be as perfect as you think, they always did say never to meet your heroes.”

Meet Hawks.

Meet Hawks.

Yeah— he could do that.

Bakugo was suddenly blasting away from his friend.

”Hey! We’re still doing a job you know!?” 

“I’m working by myself today!” He called out behind him.

Bakugo was on a mission.

He was going to meet Hawks and give him a piece of his mind.

The hero was often spotted perching on rooftops, miles away from his agency as any villain with a brain would know better than to commit a crime right by a hero agency— Hawks’s agency especially.

So Bakugo found himself bounding from rooftop to rooftop, searching the skies for that damn bird— he was also keeping an eye on the city, he was still a hero with a job after all.

But as the sun started to set, Bakugo grew restless, finally deciding to take a break and lay on one of the many rooftops he landed on.

No damn sign of him.

Of course he’d be hard to catch, his whole schtick was being fast.

Bakugo’s eyes narrowed at a cloud that reminded him of bird wings. He wondered if you two ever got up to weird sexual shit with those stupid wings.

His chest felt so damn tight every time he thought of him, like he could explode at any second.

He knew so much useless crap about him now that he read and watched practically every single interview of his.

He was a Capricorn.

His blood type was B.

He was 5’7” and 3/4.

His favorite food was chicken— goddamn cannibal.

He wondered if that was why you were in the habit of cooking chicken for dinner most nights.

You were together for two and a half years, that was a long time to spend with someone. What mannerisms have you picked up from him that he always believed were yours?

He pulled out his phone and pulled up Hawks’s instagram, scrolling through perfect photo after perfect photo of him and reading his replies to fan comments.

Damn bird probably didn’t even run his own account.

He tapped on his tags, scrolling down to one of the many photos that haunted him.

He remembered the news at the time, headlines reading ‘Pro-Hero Hawks Has A Girlfriend’ and ‘Sorry Ladies, This Hero is Taken’.

At the time he couldn’t give less of a shit, but now.

It was all he could fucking think about.

He stared at the photo of Hawks dragging a hooded woman by the hand out of his agency. He scrolled and stared at the second photo of him grinning down at the woman.

It was you all right.

There weren’t any other pictures of the two of you out in public and it irked him. It was like an itch that couldn’t be scratched as he wondered just how the two of you looked together in your relationship.

Did you have any pictures of the two of you in your phone?

That was when the sunlight was completely blocked, blanketing him in shadow.

He lowered his phone and his quirk nearly blew up the device.

Fucking Hawks.

His eyes followed the bird as he perched on a telephone pole near the rooftop.

”There a reason you’re lounging on a roof, hero?” Hawks asked with an amused smirk.

Bakugo only stared— was this real or had he actually lost his mind now?

He raised a brow at his silence, tilting his head, reminding Bakugo of an owl. “You didn’t get hit by a quirk or something did you?”

He suddenly had no idea what to say— he hadn’t actually planned anything out to begin with. He figured his mouth would take over like usual and he’d go from there.

”Wait, I know you,” he suddenly snapped his fingers, “You’re that hero Dynamight.”

”THAT’S GREAT EXPLOSION MURDER GOD DYNAMIGHT TO YOU.”

Hawks blinked at the outburst before he barked out a laugh.

”WHAT ARE YOU LAUGHING AT BIRD BRAIN!?” He shouted, stomping his way over to the edge of the roof.

”Nothing, nothing,” he laughed, waving his hand, “That’s a great name.”

”ARE YOU MAKING FUN OF ME!” He screamed again, throwing his hand up and blasting off an explosion straight at Hawks.

Hawks’s eyes widened as he quickly darted upwards, missing the attack. “Y’know I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to be on the same side,” he called out, watching Bakugo as he seethed.

”Same side my ass,” he growled under his breath, “Is my girlfriend’s number still in your phone!?”

”Your girlfriend?” Hawks scoffed, “I don’t know who’s been lying to you but I can promise I don’t have your girlfriend’s number—“

”(Y/N) (L/N)!”

Hawks’s face fell, “You’re dating (Y/N)?”

”YES I AM, YOU STUPID BIRD.”

”Alright fine,” he shrugged, “I guess I do have your girlfriend’s number.”

Bakugo screamed as he hurled blast after blast at Hawks, to which he swiftly dodged each and every one.

He stopped, panting as he searched the sky for him as the smoke cleared, only to find the man standing in front of him.

”Is there a reason you’re trying to kill me? (N/N) moan my name while you two fucked or something?”

A fierce rage boiled in him at the nickname, “DON’T CALL HER THAT!” 

He began shooting more and more explosions at him.

Hawks tsked.

What a bother— were you really dating this guy?

He sent his feathers straight at Bakugo, each one catching onto any piece of fabric it could without slicing him and another set of feathers sliding off his gauntlets.

He had Bakugo pinned against the rooftop, palms against the concrete.

Hawks walked through the smoke, staring down at the struggling, screaming man with an unamused expression.

He kneeled down. “You’re aware we broke up like two years ago.” He said flatly, this was so ridiculous, he could barely remember what happened the last time he talked to you.

”19 months and three days,” he spat.

“Whoa,” his eyes widened before a grin tugged on his lips, “You have issues huh?” He only laughed as Bakugo continued to scream at him. “You also know she’s the one that broke up with me, right?”

”Of course she did! Because you’re a fucking dumbass who can’t fuck!”

“Can’t fuck? She tell you that? Because I remember her telling me something very different.”

Bakugo saw red, now thinking about you moaning about Hawks’s dick the same way you moaned about his.

He sighed, standing up and crossing his arms over his chest. “Y’know… it’s been quite a while since I’ve seen her. And I suppose I should cut your rampage short. Let’s go on a little trip.”

* * * *

You hummed, dancing around your kitchen while you cooked. Bakugo was late, but that was fine, he probably got held up with hero work.

You knew he’d probably yell at you for cooking dinner without him again but you were sticking to a chicken dish that you had perfected so he could complain all he wanted while eating his deliciously seasoned chicken.

There was a knock at your door.

”One second!” You called out, quickly washing your hands. It was probably the landlord again.

You turned your music off, humming as you skipped over to the door and opened it.

Your smile immediately fell.

Keigo fucking Takami leaned against the wall across your door with your boyfriend, who was currently wrapped up in a bandage capture weapon from his ankles to his mouth, being floated by Keigo’s feathers.

”It’s come to my attention that you’ve lost something,” He coolly stated with one of those grins you used to see on almost a daily basis.

Bakugo was screaming into the bandage around his mouth, not a single word coming out coherently.

Your head fell as you pinched the bridge of your nose, “For the love of God please tell me I’m being pranked.” You groaned.

”Not today sweetheart.”

More screaming ensued. “Alright,” you huffed, “Come in I guess.” You moved to the side, Bakugo being floated into the room first with Hawks following behind, and his two gauntlets floating in afterwards.

Hawks looked around the familiar space, “You redecorated,” he stated calmly, before noticing your neck, “And that looks painful,” he pointed to the ridiculous hickey your boyfriend left on you the night before. He went over to the couch and placed Bakugo down, his feathers finally rejoining his wings.

He immediately rolled off, hitting the ground with a thud as he struggled.

Hawks quirked an eyebrow at him before looking back to you, “Dynamight huh? Little hero magnet aren’t ya?”

You shrugged, “Seems so— this one keeps my hands a bit more full though.”

”Just wait till he finds out about the other hero you dated.”

Bakugo struggled more, smacking his head against the coffee table.

”He’s fucking with you Kat!” You called out, walking over to him, now standing above your restrained boyfriend, “There was no other hero— do you have to rile him up even more?” You snapped at Keigo.

He only shrugged, “He tried killing me so I think that’s fair.”

You groaned, “I’m really sorry about that. I’m gonna talk to him tonight.”

He hummed, “Nothing I couldn’t handle. You look good by the way, it’s nice seeing you doing well after all this time.”

”Yeah, you too,” you grinned, “Hero work going well? I see you on the news almost every day.”

”Better than ever.” He smiled, “I’ll let you attend to him though, I think he needs the attention.”

You rolled your eyes, “Thanks.” You said leading him to the door, “And thank you for bringing him here, I’m sorry again for any trouble he caused.”

”S’alright,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets, “I do have one question though,” he turned, facing you in the doorway, “Did you really tell him I can’t fuck—?”

“Good night Keigo,” you slammed the door in his face.

You walked back over to your boyfriend, watching him roll back and forth between the couch and coffee table as he struggled with the capture weapon.

”Oh Kat,” you sighed, “What am I gonna do with you?”

You sat on the couch, leaning down and yanking the bandage from his mouth.

He said nothing.

You raised a brow, “Really? You had a fuck ton to say when he was here,” you crossed your arms over your chest.

“You were flirting,” he grumbled.

”You tried to kill him? Really? You don’t realize how fucking psychotic that is?”

“… He called you sweetheart.”

”Okay,” you snapped, “This has got to stop Kat. Honestly it seems like you’re more into Keigo than me.”

”That’s absolute fucking bullshit, and you know it. I’m only obsessed with him because of you.”

”So you admit you’re obsessed?”

”What!? No!—I— shut up you fucking idiot!” He screamed, rolling on the floor again to try and break free.

”Okay, how are we gonna remedy this? What can I do to help you get over this? Therapy?”

He stopped, staring at the ceiling, ”… Lemme send him a picture of my dick in your pussy.”

”Absolutely out of the question.” You stated, utterly unamused.

”Sucking me off?”

“Nope.”

”Eating you out?”

”Try again.”

“Mirror pic of us in doggy?”

”Kat—… actually I can deal with that— but only if you agree to talk to a therapist. I love you Kat so I’m really gonna need you to drop this obsession with my ex or I’m gonna have a new one.”

”Fine!” He barked. “Doggy and a therapist.”

You nodded, “Doggy and a therapist— and did you pick up that plan B like you said you would?”

“…damn it.”

* * * * 

[New Message… Unknown number]

[1 Attachment]

Keigo Takami: ‘Thanks. I almost forgot what she looked like in that position’

[New Message… (Y/N)]

(Y/N): Idk what you said but I’m begging you to stop riling him up. There’s only so much screaming I can take in one night 

Keigo Takami: Good luck sweetheart, I’m sure you’re doing a lot more screaming than he is anyway ;)

(Y/N): Bastard

[cordeliawhohung]

Whoa whoa whoa, why did you have to make mafiaunderboss!Simon sound so hot 😩😩??

Can we see what it looks like when Price’s wifey brings a friend around, and she’s nothing but heart eyes for him and vice versa? I honestly just love this au

mafiaunderboss!Simon has my whole fucking heart i have so many ideas for him it's not even funny. and you know what's even better than price's wife bringing a friend around??? being that friend she brings around..... (we truly are out here living our best y/n lives)

also, i've created a mafia!141 masterlist here <3 because i don't think i'm getting out of this phase anytime soon.

warnings: mafia!underboss!Simon x shy-ish!fem!reader, reader doesn't know simon's in a mafia lmao, sorta sexual tension, short-ish drabble

When your friend invited you over to a family dinner, you weren't sure if you should go or not. Family events always seemed more like a private and cut off thing, not something a friend should attend, and you were terrified about intruding. But when she insisted that her husband wouldn't mind, and how she would love it if you were able to meet the others, you begrudgingly accepted.

You arrived right on time wearing a cute little outfit that you hoped would keep you cool enough so that you weren't sweating all throughout dinner. Once you were led into the dining room of your friends home, you very quickly realized that this was not the type of family dinner you had expected. At first, you had thought of extended family, some brothers and sisters, maybe nieces and nephews. Instead, you saw your friend's husband, John, at the head of the table, along with three other men, none of whom looked related.

After a few quick introductions, you took your seat in between your friend and a kind, boisterous man with a mohawk who the others called Soap. Once dinner was served, conversation erupted throughout the table, and while you found yourself actively listening, you didn't add a whole lot to the conversation. Instead, you were perfectly content glancing around the table, watching the men around you curse and joke with one another.

However, there was one man who caught your eyes more than anyone else. The others called him Riley, and he was almost too large to fit comfortably in the small, wooden dining chair. You swore you heard his knees knock against the table a few times. The simple black t-shirt he wore perfectly displayed the sleeve of tattoos on his arm, and you found yourself enchanted by the way the sinewy muscles of his forearm flexed as he raised his glass to his lips. It seemed impossible to tear your eyes away from him, until you realized his dark and alluring eyes had caught you. You quickly averted your gaze just in time to miss the smirk that pulled at his lips.

Dessert was served in what you assumed was the entertainment room. There was a dartboard shoved up against the wall and a billiards table towards the side of the room, both of which looked very loved with years worth of holes and scratches. While you and your friend indulged in the mouthwatering tiramisu she had made, the boys started up a game of pool, where they played long enough for John to get either too bored or too fed up with the others. They tried to get your friend to play so that they could continue playing doubles, but she quickly declined.

"What about you?" Kyle spoke up.

It took you a moment to realize that he was speaking to you. All three men had their eyes on you, including Riley. Swallowing, you shook your head as you set your dishware on the side table next to you.

"Oh, I don't really know how to play," you excused.

"That's alright," Soap said as he tapped his pool cue on the floor. "Riley's a good teacher."

Before you knew it you were standing next to the table alongside the others, your own cue in hand. It didn't take long to realize just how better at the game they were than you as they made shot after shot, and when your turn rolled around, you swallowed hard, not exactly excited to make a fool of yourself.

Still, you conjured as much confidence as you could as you leaned over the table, trying to line the stick up with the cue ball. Yet no matter how hard you tried to steady your hands, you couldn't quite get stable enough to make a good shot.

"Here," Riley spoke up as he leaned his stick against the table.

The warmth of him engulfed you as you found your back pressed against his chest. It took everything in you not to boil alive under his touch as he moved your guiding hand into position in order to strike efficiently. His hand engulfed yours as he helped you hold onto the stick, and you attempted to ignore the way his breath fanned across your ear as he spoke.

"Steady, yeah? Strike right here in the center, angle a bit to the left," he guided.

Eventually his hands slid off of yours so you could make the shot, but your brain was too overwhelmed to fully focus. Yet you tried anyway, striking the ball just like he told you and barely pocketing one of the stripes. A quick round of whoops escaped the boys as they congratulated you on your shot, despite the fact you were on the other team. Riley went for a more tame reaction, and he rested his hand on your shoulder and gave it a tight squeeze.

"Nice shot."

Heat rose in your face at his touch, and you tried to swallow the warmth back into your stomach as you tapped your cue against the tip of your shoe. "All thanks to you, Riley."

For a moment, he was silent as he leaned over the table for his turn where thick fingers guided his cue along the table. Pudgy skin and muscles forced his shirt to tighten along his shoulders, and you stood there speechless as he hit his shot. He easily pocketed yet another ball before he straightened back up and turned his attention to you. His dark eyes, the ones that had been sneaking glances at you all night long, gave you a quick once over before he tilted his head slightly.

"It's just Simon to you, sweetheart."

i am fucking feral for this man. also, unrelated but mafia simon has a dick piercing <3

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Ultimate Distraction

Word count: 1k

Pairing:Lando Norris x reader

Summary:At Silverstone, Lando Norris is completely captivated by his girlfriend in his favorite summer dress, unable to focus on anything but her

Requests are open

______________________________________________________________

The sun was shining brightly over the Silverstone Circuit, casting a warm glow across the paddock. It was a beautiful summer day—one of those rare ones in England that felt like something out of a dream. The sky was a brilliant blue, and the air was filled with the buzz of engines revving, mechanics shouting over the noise, and the unmistakable excitement of race day. Today felt special.

I had chosen to wear Lando’s favorite dress—a flowy, soft yellow sundress with tiny floral patterns that swayed with every step I took. It had thin straps and a fitted bodice that accentuated my figure in just the right way. Lando always said I looked like a “literal goddess” in it, and I couldn’t resist the idea of making him smile by wearing it today. I paired it with a simple pair of sandals and let my hair fall in loose waves over my shoulders. It felt like the perfect outfit for a summer day at the track.

As I made my way through the paddock, I noticed heads turning. A few crew members and even some drivers glanced my way, surprised to see a new face, but I was used to that by now. Lando had kept our relationship private for the most part, so whenever I showed up, it was always a bit of a spectacle. Today, though, it seemed like there were even more eyes on me.

I finally spotted Lando near the McLaren garage, standing with his back to me. He was listening to his race engineer, nodding along as they discussed strategy. As I approached, a few members of the team noticed me and subtly nudged him. When Lando turned around, his eyes landed on me, and his expression instantly shifted from focused to utterly captivated. His mouth parted slightly, and he blinked as if he wasn’t sure if I was real.

“Hey,” I said softly, walking up to him, my dress catching the slight breeze and swaying around my legs.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice a little breathless, eyes never leaving mine. I could see his brain working to catch up, his usual cool confidence momentarily slipping away. He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure, but his gaze flickered down to the dress, and I saw a flicker of something—desire, pride, and a hint of possessiveness.

“You look… wow,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You know that’s my favorite dress on you.”

I grinned, knowing exactly the effect it had on him. “I know,” I teased. “That’s why I wore it. I thought you could use some extra motivation today.”

Lando chuckled, but I could see the way his eyes stayed locked on me, as if he couldn’t look away. “Well, you definitely have my attention.”

One of the engineers cleared his throat behind Lando, bringing him back to the present. Lando snapped out of his daze, blinking rapidly and trying to refocus. “Right, um… what were we talking about?”

The engineer chuckled. “Race strategy, mate. But clearly, your mind’s elsewhere.”

Lando tried to shake it off, but I could tell he was struggling. As he tried to refocus on the task at hand, I could see him sneaking glances at me every few seconds, his gaze traveling from my face to the dress and back up again. His eyes darkened slightly, and I could tell he was fighting the urge to stay by my side instead of getting ready for the race.

I stayed near the garage, chatting with some of the crew members who had gotten to know me over time. But I could feel Lando’s eyes on me, watching me like a hawk. It didn’t take long for some of the other drivers to notice me, too. George Russell was the first to approach, offering a friendly smile.

“Hey, Y/N! You look amazing today. Summer suits you,” he said, his eyes flickering briefly to Lando as if testing the waters.

“Thanks, George,” I replied with a smile, aware of Lando’s gaze boring into us from a few feet away.

I could practically feel Lando’s mood shift from adoration to a bit of annoyance. He didn’t want anyone else seeing me like this—yet, at the same time, I knew he wanted to show me off, to make everyone see the girl he was so completely smitten with.

As if on cue, Carlos Sainz strolled over next. “Y/N! You look stunning, as always,” he said with a wink. “Are you sure you don’t want to come cheer for Ferrari today?”

I laughed, knowing he was only half-joking, but before I could answer, I felt a familiar arm slide around my waist. Lando had closed the gap between us, his body language screaming protectiveness.

“She’s quite happy here, thanks,” Lando cut in, his tone light but firm, giving Carlos a look that made his intentions clear.

Carlos raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Just saying,” he chuckled, but I saw the amused look he shot at Lando.

“Can’t blame me for trying,” he added, walking away with a grin.

Lando’s grip tightened around my waist, and he leaned in close, his lips brushing my ear. “They’re all just jealous,” he muttered, his breath warm against my skin. “I can’t decide if I want to keep you hidden away or show you off to everyone here.”

I turned to face him, resting a hand on his chest. “You know I’m only here for you, right?”

His expression softened, his eyes filled with a mix of adoration and frustration. “Yeah, I know. It’s just… hard to focus when you’re looking like this.”

I laughed softly. “Well, you better try. You’ve got a race to win.”

He groaned, his forehead dropping to mine. “You’re not making it easy, you know that?”

Just then, his race engineer called him over again, reminding him that it was almost time to get into the car. Lando sighed, pulling back reluctantly. “Alright, I better go. But promise you’ll stay close?”

“Always,” I said, giving him a reassuring kiss on the cheek.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Heya! I love your works! You always manage to turn tropes on their heads and make them anew! I was wondering, are you going to continue The Audit? I loved the dynamics of the Bats interacting with Danny, and Damian and Danny's relationship was downright delightful!

Damian rarely got nervous because of the tension in the room. It wasn't in his nature, having been born with Father's ability to keep a cool head.

But watching the stare-down between his Father and Uncle Daniel was very nerve-wracking. He was still determining who was winning at this point. Father had retreated fully into Batman, locking away all and any emotions behind his persona, which was bizarre to see on his maskless face.

Meanwhile, Uncle Daniel's emotions are displayed for the world to see in the heavy set of his jaw, the down pull of his lips, and the ice in his gaze.

Between the two men sat a pile of paper with various red markings. Damian hadn't gotten the chance to review the documents, but he knew there was a lot, and most of it had not been good. He likely failed the audit.

His uncle had stayed at Wayne Manor for three days, despite the many attempts by the Bats besides Damian to get him out. He had been silently observing everything that happened within the manor's walls. Uncle Daniel took his position as an observer in the literal sense.

He did not speak or interact with anyone besides Damian and often ended up scaring his adoptive siblings since they didn't notice him in the room. Damian personally thinks it was their own fault for being frightened. Obviously, they needed more training if they were unable to detect his uncle.

It's not like the man was hiding; he is good at entering rooms as silent as a ghost. Damian knew all other league-raised children could sense when Uncle Daniel was about, so really, people trained by Batman should have caught him miles away.

Todd and Cain were an honest disgrace for failing to notice Uncle Daniel until his pen clicked to write down what he observed. Damian attempted to improve things by presenting the best of Wayne Manor, but he knew the more he tried, the more Uncle Daniel used the red pen.

He only thought he did well on the audit by showing off his various animal friends. Uncle Daniel seemed very taken with Batcow the most, and after helping Damian milk her, he had finally switched the color on his multi-pen to green.

"I will not repeat myself again, Mr. Wayne," Uncle Daniel hissed, snapping Damian from his thoughts. Father's eyes narrowed.

"You deemed me unfit for my son."

"I deem you unfit for all your children."

Father's face remained impassive, but Damian knew him well enough to see the displeasure rolling off his body in waves. "I try my best for my children."

"Not nearly enough." Uncle Daniel reached for the papers, flipping through the handwritten notes to a page, taking on three lines. When Damian leaned over to read, Uncle Daniel's hand shot out and he pushed his head away.

"No, Little One. These are your sibling's personal files. You can not read them." It's mostly because he respects his uncle greatly that he did not throw a fit for being excluded from the conversation. And the fact that his uncle switched over to their native tongue.

It had been startling to realize how much he missed hearing his language. And how warm it made him feel to use it here in Gotham.

Father pulled the paperwork to him. His blue eyes rapidly moved over the words before he flipped to the next page, the next, and the next. Each time, his actions became more frantic until he reached the end.

Then he just stared at the audit his uncle had written with a strange blank look in his eyes. Damian felt very unnerved.

"Damian, go wait in your room," Father said softly, gaze still not lifting from the report.

"What? Father-"

"Now, Damian."

The boy turned to his uncle for help, but the other man merely smiled. "It's alright, Little One. Your father and I will settle this."

It was ludicrous to remove him from the room to discuss his future. Still, Damian knew he would not be able to convince the two most important men in his life of this, and while Uncle Daniel was a pacifist, it didn't mean he was weak in any way.

He would have Damian removed, and walking out with dignity was better. The young ninja huffed, strutting out of the room, down the hall, and up the main stairway to his bedroom. He ignored the various Wayne-adopted dolts that were trying to eavesdrop on the conversation.

None of them had learned that if Uncle Daniel did not want anyone hearing his conversations, then no one would hear a thing. This was one of the many mysteries surrounding Uncle Daniel.

No one in the current League of Assiaians knew much about the First Son, mainly because no one had lived as long as he and Grandfather, but they all knew he had extraordinary powers.

Drake is a fool who thinks he can record all of Uncle's abilities when he hasn't even scraped the suffering of everything Uncle Daniel could do.

And he never will. A nasty voice whispers in his mind. Damian opens his bedroom door, taking one final look around, trying to fight off the wave of sadness. He can not say his stay here had been easy, but he had grown attached to his life at Wayne Manor.

It's a foolish attachment. It didn't matter.

He had failed the audit, and Uncle Daniel would have him moved. Damian's eyes burned slightly, making him blink rapidly as he began packing his room.

He had been able to adjust to the sudden move from the league to Gotham; Damian could do it again. He was halfway done getting everything of value stored in his suitcases when his Father appeared at his door.

"Damian? What are you doing?" The man's voice sounds crushed, and Damian refuses to meet his gaze. He needs to leave through the Wayne Manor doors with his dignity.

"I am sure it's quite clear what I am doing, Father." He says, folding his shirts in the military style Pennyworth had shown him. It saved the most space, and the idea that he will never learn more little tricks from the age bullet makes the burn in his eyes stronger.

A few traitorous tears fall, landing on his blue-gry shirt and turning a few spots into a dark blue.

"I won't let him take you," Father promises, strutting towards Damian and hugging him. The child stiffens at once before more tears silently fall down his face.

"You can not stop Uncle. He can take all of us away."

"I know," Father admits. "That's why I have agreed to his terms."

"Terms?"

"Mr. Wayne and I have agreed on a trial period. He will go to therapy to improve his behavior and communication skills with his children. I will be living here and monitoring the progress. It will be one year." Uncle Daniel says suddenly, right next to their hug, his cold arms warping around Damian and overlapping Father's.

Father's face was spammed at the contact, but Damian had never felt so warm or protected.

He sinks into the hug, watching Uncle Daniel's warm, soft gaze stare down at him. Then, his gaze hardens into disgust as Father leans on Damian's hair. Uncle Daniel quickly leans onto the other side of Damian's skull, trying to comfort him.

Relief crashes into Damian. The audit was not over; he still had a year to prove to Uncle that he should live here with Father. He will not be moved.

But it will take a miracle for his father to change that drastically. His uncle would remove him unless Damian could show him that there was something here worth staying for.

He needed a plan, a goal, an appeal to Uncle Daniel's more gentle, idealistic views. But what? He could try to become more brotherly with his adoptive siblings. That could buy him a few more months.

I need something more. Something more binding. Damian thinks, pressing his face into the two men's arms. He does not need comfort like a child, but being held like this is.... pleasant.

"Oh! Family Group Hug!" Richard screams from the hallway before the man is sprinting into the room. Father makes a face but Uncle Daniel opens the hug, leaving a gap for Richard.

The man barrels in with a shout of glee, squeezing the three almost desperately. Damian would make a face, but he understands just how great Uncle Daniel's hugs can be, and added to the fact Father is not one to show displays of affection, this is Richard's best chance to-.

Wait.

That's it! Uncle's one weakness is being there for children who need him. Damian realizes, a plan forming in his mind, as Brown, Drake, and Cain run into the room. They pause at the sight before all three are invited into Uncle's hug. Brown leaps in for her hug, and Cain hesitantly approaches while Drake stays safely away, eyeing the group with distaste.

Uncle Daniel locks eyes with the teenager by the door, offering a sad smile, and Damian can see that he genuinely wants Drake in this hug but will not force him.

He respects Drake's boundaries because, to Uncle Daniel, adoption means family. He considers Drake to be Damian's brother, so he would treat him with the same care and love as he does for Damian.

Usually, that would bother him greatly, but Damian is too proud of himself for thinking of such a great plan.

There was no way Father would change enough in one year to satisfy Uncle into thinking he was a good fit for raising children. That's fine.

All Damian had to do in that year was convince Uncle to stay at Wayne Manor to do the child-raising himself. This way Damian could remain in Gotham, no matter the audit's results.

How does one trap a man in child-raising when none of the children are his biological? Simple. They get them married to someone with children, and Father just so happens to be without a paramour.

Damian has to get two men to fall in love in one year. It should be simple. With Uncle Daniel's protective core and Father's determination to save Gotham, there may be enough common ground between them to spark romance!

"I love you guys!" Richard crows, squeezing everyone he can reach.

"Hn," Father grunts, while Brown and Cain both inform Richard they care for him as well. Damian softly mutters, "I care for you too," which is much better than Father's.

Uncle's snaps.

"Your son said he loves you, but you don't even respond? You are a brute, Mr. Wayne."

"And you are a leech." Father hisses.

Damian winces. This will take a lot of work. Good thing he's never cowered from a challenge.

[whitexwolfxx310]

|| What’s Your Favorite Scary Movie? || Part 2.

Pairing: Dom!Bucky x Sub!female reader

Summary: After accidentally revealing that you have a masked man kink, Bucky starts taking it to the next level. The reveal!

Warnings: Smut- MDNI please!, unprotected sexual intercourse (p in v), don't forget no glove no love, edging, asphyxiation, fingering, mild dirty talk, language, praise kink, masked man kink, stalking, harassment, implied harm, breaking in.

Word Count: 5.4

A/Ns: Hi babes! Sorry this took an extra day than intended. Tumblr is being super finicky tonight, I’ve edited and re-edited this so many times. If there’s mistakes just ignore. I hope you like the conclusion!

In case you missed it, Part 1

You didn’t sleep much the next couple of nights, and decided to take some time off of work. Bucky finally reached out, and you updated him as to what was going on. He immediately offered to come home, which you refused and started to downplay the situation.

Hailee has been great with letting you borrow some clothes and little things, since you only grabbed a small bag in a rush before heading to her place to stay a few days ago. You’ve been dreading going back to the apartment, scared to find someone in there waiting for you. But it’s at the point where you need to grab some of your stuff.

Walking into the apartment, it was eerily quiet and uncomfortable. But nothing looked out of place, and was exactly how you left it. Deciding not to spend any longer there than you had to, you promptly tossed a large duffle bag onto your bed and started stuffing it with clothes and any other necessities.

Zipping the duffle closed, you felt a light gust of cool air. Scanning your bedroom window assuming it was the source, you realize it’s open. You never open this window. In fact, it’s always locked. All of the hair on the top layer of your skin stands up to the extent it almost feels like tiny pinpricks. Flight mode is instantly activated; before you can even think, you grab the bag and run, practically tripping over your own feet out of the room.

Grappling with the door knob, the pure panic starts to set in. Just as you’re twisting the knob open, you hear a distant bang coming from another room in the apartment. You freeze at the realization:

I’m not alone.

You know when you’re watching a scary movie and yell at the tv, wondering why the one of the characters was so fucking stupid to do something?

Well, you did exactly that. What possessed you in that moment, you haven’t the faintest idea. But, with your heartbeat pounding in your ears so loudly that you thought your eardrums might rupture, you started to turn around to look.

What primitively catches your attention isn’t what you expected, but quickly makes your chest tighten. The fruit bowl on the kitchen counter that is normally overflowing with lucious, red delicious apples, now just has all apple cores.

The flashback of one being on left on the countertop after Bucky had left blazes in your mind. It suddenly makes sense. Bucky would never leave a mess and it wasn't long after that you saw someone outside your window.

Attempting to swallow the growing dryness in your throat, you continue to turn around. And that's when you see him for the first time. About fifteen feet away, stood an obviously immensely tall man. He wore thick, black shiny leather boots that gleamed lightly in the natural daylight within the apartment. Fitted black jeans with a loose, black hooded sweatshirt that failed to hide how muscular and broad his chest and shoulders were with the hood pulled up.

But two things stuck out the most about his appearance. First, was the tight, black leather gloves he wore on his hands that were currently clenched into rigid fists. The second, was the fact that you couldn't make out his face. All you could see was an elongated paleness, caverned by the blackness of the hood, and it seemed... sinister. He didn't move or make a sound. It was as if you would blink and he would be gone, like a cloud of smoke.

But if anyone was going to disappear, it was going to be you. So taking a chance, you ran. And you didn't stop running. Even with the faint vibration in your pocket alerting you to the new text notification on your phone, you kept going.

It wasn't until you got back to Hailee's place and frantically, out of breath explained to her, that you even remembered about the text message.

"Here," You toss the phone in pure detestation onto her bed, "I don't even want to fucking know what it says." You lean against the opposite wall of her bedroom, crossing your arms across your chest in an attempt to control the body shakes as you come down from the adrenaline.

Hailee watches you for a brief moment, still not having said much aside from asking if you were okay. Her expression was soft and sympathetic and yet had an dissenting undertone. You couldn't blame her, this all sounded absolutely insane.

Letting out a small, exasperated breath, Hailee sits on her knees from her previous crossed legged position and grabs your cell. As the screen comes to life, her teeth clench down reading whatever is on the screen.

“What?” The concern is evident in your voice as you pry away from the wall, though still holding onto yourself.

Hailee inhales deeply through her nostrils, faking a tightlipped smile, “it’s nothing,” her tone is flat. She’s lying. Clicking the sleep button on the side of the phone to make the screen go black, she makes her way off the bed, “hey, how about we head down to the cellphone store and get you a new phone and number?” She asks, trying to sound like her usual carefree self as she grabbed her crossbody bag.

“Hailee,” you uncross your arms and step in front of her, forcing her to make eye contact, “what is it?”

Searching your eyes, you can see that she is torn. She wants so badly to do the right thing, but isn’t sure what exactly that is in this situation. On one hand, she could just keep it to herself. Let the unknown and curiosity eat you alive from the inside out like it inevitably will. But only because she wants to protect you, shield you from anything that brings you the opposite of joy. Or, she can show you what you’re actually dealing with, and the two of you can come up with a plan and handle it together. Hailee decides on the latter.

Hesitating, her hand shakes slightly as she holds out the phone to you. It appears that now both of you will take this predicament more critically now. Grabbing the phone a tad more aggressively then you meant to, you unlock it and open the messages. But it's not often Hailee gets rendered quiet. Scrolling through the back to back texts, you understand why.

Taking your best friends advice, you immediately went to the cell phone store. She tagged along as you got a completely new phone and number, not transferring anything over, not wanting to take the risk. You didn't download any social media, deciding to take a much needed mental break for a bit. The only thing you did do, was take a few phone numbers that you needed out of your old phone, and even then you wrote them down on a piece of paper to manually add them into your contacts later.

Walking out of the store, you felt as if a weight had been lifted. Hailee locked arms with you, leading you around the corner to the nearest cafe to get iced coffee. It was her answer for everything. Bad day? Iced coffee. Need a pick me up? Iced coffee. Need to clear your head and just ramble about random shit for a bit? Iced coffee. Your best friend has an apparent stalker and we're hoping that changing phone numbers is the end all solution?! Obviously, iced coffee.

Sitting at a small table outside the cafe, enjoying the slight crispness in the fall air, you let out a huge, relieving sigh that makes your shoulders sink. You take the opportunity to add Bucky to your contacts and text him your new number. Although, you decide not to go into detail about your most recent encounter while he's still away on a mission.

Putting the phone down on the table and not have it incessantly go off with calls and texts, let's you feel as though you can finally breathe. "Thank you for coming with me, Hales, I really appreciate you."

Hailee is sucking the remnants of her drink through the straw as she looks up at you. She gives you a small, genuine side smile, "you're welcome," before smirking, "so I'm supposed to have a date tonight, with that guy Noah I've been seeing..." she leaves it open ended. "But, I should totally cancel after everythi-"

"No, please. Go out and have fun. You've been dealing with my shit enough," trying to make your words sound affirming, even with the lingering dread that you still felt.

That's one thing about Hailee. You never quite really have to twist her arm to do anything.

After showering and changing into your comfy jeans and oversized cropped sweater, it was hard not to feel the slightest tinge of jealousy watching Hailee do her finishing touches for date night in the mirror. Jealousy in the sense of missing Bucky and going out and having a carefree night, not in comparing yourself physically.

She swipes yet another layer of clear lip gloss on before fluffing her beach wave blonde hair. Turning to face you, her thick heels clack on the wooden floor as she starts adjusting her boobs in her sleek, dusty rose colored dress.

"What do you think?" Her hands glide down over her curves, "Dress is okay?"

"That dress is fire," and it is, she looks amazing. By the smile she's wearing, she's feeling it too, "too bad it's going to end up on Noah's floor ten minutes into your date." Hailee dramatically gasps, as if that's not true. It totally is.

You're both laughing until she abruptly stops, "I have to go!" She gives you a quick hug and starts scurrying towards the door, a bit awkwardly in the heels, "Bye! Love you! Lock the door!" As she goes to close the door behind her she yells back in, "don't read too much smut on your kindle while I'm gone!" and the door slams.

Shaking your head with a small laugh, you lock the door. Hailee just gave you the perfect idea of how to spend your night.

About an hour had gone by, you comfortably laid in Hailee's spare bed, a few chapters deep into your latest book. It was quiet, so when your phone vibrated on the bed next to you- you jumped slightly. Assuming it was Bucky finally having the chance to text you back, you pick it up fairly quickly. But the message you received isn't what you expected at all.

Before even unlocking the phone, you had a text alert from Unknown. There was nothing written, but all the way to the right of the alert, you could see a picture was included.

Promptly, you sat up in the bed and stared at the notification. That familiar wave of unease dispersed throughout your body as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over your head.

This phone number is only a few hours old, how the fuck did he get it already?

The notification banner and you were in a staredown. You had to know what the message was, but you were absolutely terrified at the same time. Your thumbs hover, occasionally twitching over the screen, until you pull the trigger and swipe up.

Us. Hailee...

Driving to your apartment, you broke nearly every single traffic law that there is. The entire time you tried calling Hailee’s phone back to back, just repeating the same mantra; please pick up. Please, please pick up. She never did.

“Hailee!!” You run through your apartment door, not having to mess with it for long as it was already unlocked. You had a feeling it would be. “Answer me!” You yell, breathlessly. The apartment is eerily dark and quiet.

Coming to a halt in the main living space, you whipped your head around looking for clues and try to listen for any signs of distress. But it was so difficult to hear anything over your own breathing and pulse drumming in your ears.

You knew where you had to go, the last picture of your friends dress laid out on your bedspread was the roadmap. The bedroom door was just barely closed over, a creepy orange glow lining it and trying to escape from underneath. Each step closer that you took, felt as if a large spider made entirely of ice was crawling down your spine.

Pushing the door open slightly with just a fingernail, you peered into the room. You knew this is exactly where this person wanted you. For what? There’s only one way to find out.

There didn’t seem to be anyone in the room, so you took a few small steps in. The glow was more prominent now, giving the room an uncanny romantic ambiance with numerous amount of white candles lit all along the dressers, night tables, and bookshelves.

Taking a broad step forward, your attention is now focused on the bed. Hailee's dress is no longer laid out like it had been in the picture. Instead, there are flower petals sprinkled across your comforter. The intriguing curiosity drew you even more into the room without you even realizing. Picking up one of the petals, you rub it between your fingers, feeling it's supple and delicate smoothness as you examine it more closely. In that moment you recognize it- the familiarity of it's dark appeal. They're black dahlia petals.

Some of the petals congregated in one particular area on the bed, revealing an elegant, black gift box about the size of a large book. Your lips part slightly as you pick up the box, captivated by it's alluring magnetism. Taking off the lid, your brows furrow slightly in confusion. It's a chain. A long, thick slip chain that looks like a necklace but almost long enough to be a leash.

As your finger smoothes over the cold indentations of the chain, you hear a creak come from the floor behind you. In a startled jump, you drop the box- a slight ringing sound deafens the scene even more from the chain hitting the floor. But that's not your concern. Because as you turn around, you see him.

Within arms reach, you are confronted with the person that's been behind all of this. He's even taller up close, broader. Dressed in all black attire, this time swapping the black hoodie for a black t-shirt and black leather jacket. And without the hood, you're able to see the elongated white face from earlier.

It's a Ghostface mask.

He stands as still as a statue, watching you intently, waiting. Your eyes persist in looking him over as your chest rises and falls deeply. When your gaze meets his face once again, his head creepily tilts ever so slightly to one side.

"What's the matter?" He speaks, his voice deep and low, "you look like you've seen a ghost," the tone almost mocking.

Squinting your eyes, you look at him again. And this time you really look at him. His body frame, the clothes, the familiarity of his voice. Your eyes widen at the realization.

"Bucky?" you gape, completely stupefied. Taking the first fearless step in what feels like months, you wrap your arms around him. He returns the sentiment and you feel safe, for the first time in what feels like forever. It suddenly dawns on you that he's not actually on a mission. And probably never was.

"What- What is this?" You ask, looking up at him, slightly pushing the mask up to reveal his stubbled chin and promiscuous grin.

"There’s just something so dark and exhilarating about an unknown man behind a mask that stalks and is obsessed with you. The anonymity of it..." He repeats back the words you said to him a few months ago watching the Scream movie.

The memory of you how you told him about this kink of yours curls around your mind. That this entire time, you were never in any kind of serious danger, he just brought it to life. Weeks and months of preparation went into this, here, tonight. You should have known all along that Bucky would never have been so nonchalant about you in any type of significant situation. You're safe. You always were and always will be.

The tiny icy footprints that had trailed up your spine were long gone, now replaced with a burning and tantalizing desire. You've missed him, thinking he was away while you were dealing with this on your own. But now he's here, fulfilling your deepest desires.

Looking up, Bucky's Pacific blue eyes are already gazing down into yours, a built up and unsatisfied hunger prominent. Moving up onto your tiptoes and grabbing him behind the neck, you bring down his head and capture his lips.

Your mouth parted his, gliding and massaging his tongue with your own. A low growl reverberated from within his throat with approval, and promise to make everything up to you tenfold. Bucky's intoxicating cypress scent fills your nostrils as your inhaled deeply, pressing your breasts up into his chest. Taking off the leather gloves and shrugging his jacket onto the floor, his hands started to wildly wander around your body, giving light squeezes on your hips before settling and interlacing gingerly in your hair.

That didn't last long, though. There was a sudden and hard tug from where Bucky held your hair, enough to pull the two of you apart. The aggressiveness of the gesture was unexpected, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't fucking love it. His eyes linger on your already swollen lips, now wearing a pursed, provocative grin. His hand releases the tight grip he had on your loose curls, watching the relief from the sting flash across your eyes. Bucky has always been tender, gentle and using your body as a place of worship-but tonight is different.

Grabbing the hem of your sweater, he maneuvers it up and off to join his growing pile of discarded clothes. Dropping to his knees with a loud thud, he undoes the button and zipper of your jeans, pulling them down and weaving his tongue along the freshly exposed skin. Hissing through your teeth, your hips instinctively press forward. He lets out a dark laugh, before grabbing the chain you dropped before. Standing back up, he takes your hand, "Come," he says, leading you towards the cornered edge of the mattress.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, his muscular body causes it to sink slightly. His free hand, still holding the chain, grips his own thigh before giving it a light pat, "Sit," he commanded, again keeping that firm edge in his voice that you weren't used to. You enthusiastically follow his orders, sitting delicately facing outward in just your matching ivory lace bra and panties. It's hard not to notice how you just fit. And how much you secretly love his significantly large frame pressed against your much more petite body in comparison to his.

The soft tip of his nose runs along the outside of your neck, his large hands coasting along your shoulders, down your arms, sides, before settling on your thighs. The calluses on his hands leaving a sensational trail of tingles and heat to disperse under your skin.

"Look," his head nods forward once to get your attention, and now you see the reason why he sat you here. In the corner of the bedroom, just a few feet away, is a full length standing mirror angled perfectly to reflect everything.

You see yourself, already flushed with arousal and breathing heavily as you make eye contact with Bucky in the mirror. His devious smile pins you in place as you watch his hands pry open your legs, entrancingly over his. They willingly spread open wide for him, your restless hips now squirming, aching for more. His fingertips trace small circles on your inner thigh.

"I want you to see your face as you fall apart, " he taunted, his voice sultry in your ear, still holding your gaze in the mirror. His middle finger skims across your already embarrassingly dampened panties, causing your back to press against his rigid chest.

There was a vague rattling sound, followed by Bucky placing the large opening of the looped chain over your head and around your neck, “Bucky, what are you doing-” you watch curiously in the mirror. Part of the chain dangles between your breasts, which he wraps around his hand once and slowly starts to pull, causing the loop around your neck to compress.

It’s a choker.

Your eyes go wide, nervousness rippling through you as you grasp his intentions, “Bucky, I don’t know-”

“Do you really think you have a choice?” he barked, pulling the Ghostface mask down back onto his face. Talking to you through the mirror, “I won’t hurt you. Trust me,” he whispers, breaking character for a moment to assure you’re safe.

You nod in response, your reflection visibly eases in the mirror as the necklace slackens around your throat. He lets the chain lax too, for now.

Large hands are back to kneading your thighs, a lone finger brushing between your legs when gravitating along the inside. It’s not long until the sensation has you starting to wriggle once again.

Cupping your sex, his hand gently moves up and down, keeping a firm, yet delicate and delicious pressure. Your greedy hips tilt forward, wanting more from his right hand, while the coolness of his left continues to lazily stroke over your skin. But when that icy touch quickly grabs and tears your underwear off in one jolt, you gasp at the tiny bite the ripping cloth left behind.

Now you’re left wide and exposed- to yourself, to Bucky, to the reflections of yourselves staring intensely, watching every movement. The warmth of his hand is back, leisurely gliding two fingers between your already achingly wet pussy. Swallowing hard, your breath hitches as you can not only feel, but see, yourself start to lose composure.

Bucky pulls the two fingers away, holding them up just to your mouth, "wet them for me," he instructs, his voice silk like satin. Taking the two fingers into your mouth, your tongue swirled rapidly around the digits, savoring the salty-sweetness of your arousal. Slowly pulling them back out, you see them shine with your saliva.

Something comes over you in that moment, call it gluttonous, but you pool some extra moisture into your mouth and spit onto the fingers. Just for good measure.

There's a murmured hum of approval in your ear as he spreads your folds, teasing your increasingly sensitive clit between his two fingers. And getting Bucky's praise will only enhance the entire night. Your legs quiver at the deliberate sluggish pace, letting out shaky breaths as the overwhelming throbbing demands more attention.

Finally, the pads of those fingers start to rub your bundle of nerves in unhurried circles. Gripping onto his thigh to steady yourself, your nails clutching his jeans, a whine escapes as your hips try to buck against his hand.

That dark laugh is in your ear again, "good girls don't come until I tell them too," Bucky breathes, overly indulging in how you respond to his touch. It feels like torture, in the best possible way. The combination of his words and caress... you have never felt this good. This wanted.

Your head falls back slightly against his shoulder in small disappointment, whimpering, knowing that he's going to make you beg. And you're getting desperate enough to do so.

The leisurely pace of his fingers picks up, causing your back to arch away from his chest as you start panting. Each swipe building pleasure, layer on top of agonizing layer. Finding yourself in the mirror again, you unapologetically watch as your body vigorously writhes against his hand, your moans spilling from your mouth more and more.

"How badly do you want to come, princess?" The Ghost breathed, his chest rising and falling heavily now, trying to fight off his own desire, evident from the hard protrusion you keep rolling your hips against.

"S-so bad... Please! Please," you pleaded, not caring how desperate it sounds. Adding some additional pressure, your hips stutter. Your breathing practically stops as your moans transform into one long, drawn out strangled whine as you come apart, "O-ooh...oh my god. Oh god!"

Not even fully coming down from the repeated waves, you hear, "God's not here," growled into your ear. In one sudden movement, Bucky stands up with you in his arms before tossing you onto the bed, "just me.” the low rumble emits from his chest. Ripping off the mask, he kneels on the bed and uses his left arm to support his weight. Using those same damned two fingers, he plunges them into your drenched pussy, siphoning a sound from your throat that’s unrecognizable.

“Again,” Bucky breathes, his eyes glazed over with a new kind of wickedness as they lock into yours, “Come for me again. I fucking love all the sounds you make,” With his palm face up, his fingers start pumping you from the inside, running over your g-spot in a come here motion.

Since there was no remission from your last orgasm, the tightness in your belly never fully went away. Watching Bucky, seeing him in the tight black t-shirt while his bicep flexes from working you, his slightly furrowed brow and his lips slightly parted in determination, you could feel it building up once again.

Feeling your walls contract around him, he grinned. He changes his hand motions to going in a frantic up and down movement, and if you know, you know. Your rasped whimpers became silent as you forgot how to breathe and your vision blurred. The build up came on so fast and so strong, the only sound in the room was your ever increasing wetness.

Your mouth dropped open into a silent O, not able to think not a single coherent thought, "Thaaat's it..." Bucky coaxed, "I want you to gush all over my fucking hand," and with his words, your body quivers as you completely shatter with a loud cry. "Goood girl. God, what a good fucking girl," he soothes. You winced slightly as he pulled out his fingers, collapsing back more into the bed as you try to rein in remembering how to breathe. Bucky sits back on his knees, and almost entirely up to his elbow is glistening with how hard you just came.

With a flat tongue, he presses it to his palm, and licks all the way up to the tip of his middle finger, "Perfect," Bucky hums in satisfaction to himself. Your throat goes dry at the sight, being the cherry on top of all the mouth breathing you've been doing. Am I fucking dreaming?

Pushing his jeans down to his knees, his thick, flushed cock rebounds out of his boxers. Bucky grabs you by the hips, pulling you down the bed before flipping you over onto all fours. Each of his hands grabs a fistfull of your ass, before slapping one side. You moan at the bite of the smack, feeling delusional from needing him inside you so badly. He rubs the reddened cheek before dropping a teeth grazed kiss on the sensitive skin.

There's a coolness between your legs, and you realize that it's your juices sliding down your thighs. Not needing any preparation, you feel the tip of Bucky's fat cock lining up to slide into your tight little slit. He rubs the head up and down, lubricating just enough to push himself in. As he started to sink into you, it took every bit of will you had not to collapse as you felt his slight struggle to get in.

"Fuck, you're tight," he sighs. But truth be told, he's just that big. As if he had a direct roadmap, he slides in effortlessly right to the hilt, poking the sweetest spot of all making you choke out a sob, "You can take it, can't you angel?" He breathes huskily, amusement draped around the words as he dragged his cock back maliciously slow, letting you feel the ridge of each vein, every delectable centimeter of his length.

You feel your eyes roll closed, enjoying the all consuming sensation. With one quick thrust all at once, Bucky simultaneously yanks on the chain of the forgotten choker forcing your eyes open with a loud cry to find him glaring at you in the mirror, "Look at me when I'm fucking you," he reprimanded, in a subdued yet stern voice.

He started to move in a merciless rhythm, keeping the chain taut in one of the hands that clenched your hips. Each thrust delivered not only a delectable deep nudge against your cervix, but a small slap of his balls to your achingly sensitive clit. The combination of internal and external stimulation has you singing your own personal explicit cry, almost on the verge of tears with the intensity.

It's almost cruel the way that he fucks you, like he's dismantling you piece by piece, mentally, physically, emotionally. Never have you been treated like such a prize possession and a cheap whore at the same time. Your walls flutter around his cock, swallowing him needing moremoremore. You're body's accepted that this pussy is Bucky's. It's meant for him. It was made for him.

In the reflection you can see Bucky wet his lips, his eyes darting between yours and your ass bouncing off of his snapping hips. He continues to murmur soft, filthy praises as he fucks another orgasm from you. The choker tensed as you came, making the edges of your vision blurry- your walls clenching so tightly, causing each stroke to become more intense than the next. After you completely shattered, the chain went slack once again.

Manhandling you one last time, Bucky lays back flat on the bed and positions you to straddle him. You shake your head in an almost delirious state, "I-I can't. Buck, I-" you whisper, thoroughly cock drunk, "I can't," you pleaded.

"Yes you can, angel," his hands glide over your sweat coated thighs, a lecherous expression on his face. You nod ever so slightly, because even as spent and exhausted as you feel, you want to see him come apart. You want to look down into his eyes as joins you in the fucked out bliss.

You grab the base of his cock, using it to align yourself before sliding back down on top of him. Bucky's eyes widen, watching intensely as your bodies joined one another. All the air releases out of his lungs at the sight of your greedy pussy sucking him all the way in- deeper, your thighs already trembling. His hands clench your hips as your they start to grind back and forth.

His ab muscles flex under your nail piercing grasp- that pressure once again starting to build. He's just so deep, you're still just so wet from coming 3 times in a row, and now his wide tip is nestled so perfectly against your cervix that each motion of your body feels like you're going to spontaneously combust and die. But there's no way that heaven could be better than this. Those painfully beautiful sapphire blue eyes filled with an rapacious hunger that only you can fulfill.

You're mouth opens in attempt to say his name like a prayer, or something as equally dirty, but all that comes out is a sputter of shuddered gasps. Bucky's unapologetically loud moans grow more frequent, turning into their own long, drawn out beautiful melody, "fuck," he whispers, "that's so good."

Leaning down, chest to chest, you capture his lips in yours- swallowing those gorgeous sounds. Bucky takes this opportunity to thrust his hips up, massaging your inner walls as you push back against him. The loud smacking of flesh borderline drown out the sounds of both your orgasms, but you could feel the vibration from deep within Bucky's throat through the kiss. Rope after rope, you could feel his warmth emptying inside of you.

The strokes became laguid as he maintained the kiss- Bucky's hands cupping your face gently, which was such a dichotomy compared to the way he fucked you tonight. You finally pull your lips apart, collapsing fully on top of his body. Laying in silence, all you can hear is each other's ragged breathing and the drumming of his heart in your ear against his chest.

"I am... never getting rid of that fucking mask," Bucky chuckles lightly.

"Just so you know," you prop your chin up on your palm, "there's 5 other movies in the franchise."

If you enjoyed this, please check out my masterlist.

@peaches1958 @aquabrie @elsie-bells @pono-pura-vida @redbloodedgurl @almosttoopizza @beware-my-thorns @prettylittlepluviophile @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny @calwitch @ozwriterchick @roofwitty779 @lessersole @lil-darhk @agoddoesnotplead @saranghaey @erinallene @mrsvxder @elizabeth916 @cjand10 @bucky-barnes-lover @wintrsoldrluvr

@marianastudiesart @chaosbarelycontained @wonderbreadbucky @amethystviolin @fluffysucker @buckybraneslover111 @crazyf0robx @thorns-fixations @brairslair @dumdumlolly @miss0giarra @nerdytif @am-3-thyst @blondierog @mrsstuckyboo

[bunnys-kisses]

Ciao bello, how do you do? I wondered what pastry should I order as it all look so tempting. So, I'd like to indulge myself with some mille-feuille, and hard lemonade to the side, please.

the bakery menu

there's still tons more items on the menu! feel free to submit your own order, i'd love to write more! as for this lovely request, your server this afternoon with be lando norris! thank you again for the combination and i hope it serves your fancy!

mille-feuille (“that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.”) + hard lemonade (possessive behaviour) served to you by lando norris (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, dirty talk, possessive behaviour/jealousy, missionary position, naive!reader,

lando never considered himself a jealous man. he believed that you were free to go about life as you deemed fit. he trusted you, he loved you. you were his number one fan and the love of his life.

so why did jealousy rear its ugly head when he saw you go up to max verstappen and pull him into a tight hug. in all fairness, your relationship was still new, you two were still getting to know the nitty gritty of one another. but still, how did you know max verstappen. and not on a casual level, but you beamed at him like you hadn't seen him in years.

lando strode over to see what his lovely girlfriend was doing. he was a bit perturbed how he saw how max had an arm wrapped around your shoulders and he was laughing. it was so painfully casual for the three time champion. it only made the jealousy grow deeper in lando's gut as he smiled at you.

he didn't want to scare off his perfect angel of a girlfriend.

even if she was in the arms of the devil. he took you in his grasp and hugged you tightly. even going as far as to kissed you on the forehead. he looked to max for a moment and raised his eyebrows, "honey." he said, "you should be in mclaren area, not red bull." he laughed, trying to play it all off. he patted your face with affection, but also a bit of ownership, "did you get lost?"

you shook your head, "no, landy." you held onto the front of his racing jacket and looked to him, "i wanted to see max before practice started."

lando nodded, "i see, i see." his gaze flicked to the other man, "how do you know my girlfriend, max?" he was trying his best to keep it cool. he didn't want another incident that was plastered all of the headlines for a week.

max looked to you then back to the other driver, "oh... she didn't tell you."

lando made a face, "tell me what?"

you piped up, "oh yeah! i just thought you knew, landy." you were still holding onto him, "max and i are technically childhood friends! i mean ya know, like a million years ago! remember, my dad was an engineer. he worked with max's dad!"

max said to you, "i see not a lot has changed. always forgetting the important details."

you frowned at max and let go of your boyfriend to punch the dutch driver in the arm, "hey! i'll have you know, i got my university all on my own!"

"and how many deadlines did you miss during your program?"

you wagged our finger at max, "ya know, verstappen. you're very lucky."

max seemed amused and looked to lando, "seems you pick them well, norris. i'll see you two later. good luck out there." then turned away, leaving you with your boyfriend.

lando narrowed his eyes at max, who was walking away, and then turned his attention back to you. he took his cap off and placed it on top of your head. he then placed a hand on the top of your head and said, "don't take this off."

you nodded, you looked so painfully sweet. lando knew that you wouldn't try to cheat on him. but your closeness to max had jealousy curl in his gut.

lando was happy that you kept to your word and wore his mclaren hat till you were on your way back to the hotel. he didn't see you with max for the rest of practice, but it still didn't deterred lando from being in your personal space as he kept a hand possessively on your thigh.

once you were back in the hotel room, lando's hands were all over you. his lips were to your neck and you moaned as you held onto him. you felt a heat throb between your legs as you were herded to the bedroom.

you ended up on the bed with a bounce and knew that lando wasn't going to take it slow tonight. you took off the hat but lando quickly grabbed it and put it back on your head, "wear it. you look good in it."

he then got his shirt off followed by the rest of his clothes, you did the same save for the hat which sat proudly on top of your head. you didn't think you looked good in baseball caps, but lando loved you in nothing but it.

he got between your legs, and leaned over you to grab a condom from the box on the night stand. he put it on with ease, his heart raced in his chest as he gazed at you with such love. but also much possession.

"is there any other drivers i should know about?" lando asked, "i don't want any more surprises."

"what do you mean, landy?"

"i know you two were friends, but you were all over him, love."

you looked at him curiously, "but that's how i greet all my friends."

he stroked his cock, you were so innocent sometimes. he couldn't be upset for too long (even though he barely was to begin with). he looked you in the eyes, and said, "that's how you greet all your girl friends." then placed on hand on your middle and the other on his cock as he slowly sank into your sweet hole.

"mmm, honey." you whimpered.

the warmth of your cunt against him made him shudder. he kept one hand on your stomach and the other on your hip as he started to thrust against you. he swore he could feel his cock inside of you as he bumped up into the deepest parts of you.

"fuck, babe." he groaned. he was hunched over you as he started to work your pussy. his thrusts were short and quick, the hot intensity of his movements made you feel good. he said to you, "i just want you all to myself. the one thing that the likes of max verstappen can't have."

he felt a pull in his chest for you. he just wanted you to be his forever. was that a crime? his thrusts became heavier, he could see the expressions that crossed your face. you looked perfect.

"but i'll always be yours, landy." you confessed to him with sucha sweet smile. it made his cock throb in you as he continued to rut against you.

"that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl." he groaned, "that's my girl, you're perfect. i'm sorry i'm a jealous bastard, i just don't want to lose the best thing i've ever had." he messily made out with you, keeping you pinned to the bed as he rutted against you.

his heartbeat raced in his ears as he continued to thrust in and out of you. you were so perfect for him. you were his perfect half, he loved you to the point that it made him a possessive fool.

"i'll always love you, lando. i mean it." you said with such a sweetness to your voice.

"that's what i like to hear." he said as he continued to thrust. the bed shifted under your movements and you were left feeling hot all over. the space between you was limited and you could feel him reach some of the deepest parts of you core.

you made out with him once more and met with his thrusts. you could feel your mouth growing dry and you body growing hotter. it felt good being so close to him. he was the perfect partner in every way you could think of.

the two of you made love, lando's possessive streak he had all day was slowly diminishing and the love he had for his girlfriend only bloomed. his kisses were sweet even though he pace was rather quick.

"shit, ah. lando." you whined as you felt orgasm creep up on you. the pleasure made its way through your body and left your breathless. you sloppily made out with him once more before with tensed up and came around his cock.

he broke the kiss and panted heavily as he continued to pace. both hands were now on either side of you to get better leverage to thrust up into you.

"you're so perfect, my angel. i want this cock in every way i can get it. i want you more than anything, baby." he panted as he put his all into your thrusts. the pleasure pulsed through his body as he moved against you. you felt like a dream. "so perfect." he panted heavily with a few more heavy thrusts. then he was finally able to finish inside of you. it shook him to his core and made his mind go blank for a few moments.

"lando." your voice felt far as you laid there, overstimulated and sweaty.

he gave a few more thrusts before he finished inside of you with a large groan. his pace staggered then stopped before he pulled out and laid next to you. he pulled you into his arms and gave your cheek wet kisses as you squirmed against him.

"oh, i love you so much." he said with tenderness in his voice, "you're so perfect and i want you to myself forever."

you tried to meet his lips, but kept missing due to how fast he was moving to kiss your heated skin. you eventually took him by the face and laughed, "don't worry. you already got me, honey." <3

[scribs-dibs]

cherry wine

(separate) belle & wise, gn reader, kinda ooc... because im still early game i think..., late-night proofreading. godspeed if ur reading this 🫶🏾

wc; ~1.7k total

phaethon can navigate hollows with ease. but a crush?

Wise does not hear any of the words that play loudly on the screen in front of him. He doesn’t care to. Though this is one of his favorites– his brain is occupied by you just sitting here, beside him.

The documentary buzzes on about its topic, but Wise can’t make out a word over the sound of his rapidly beating heart. He’s stiff– sat up straight as a board even if the soft cushions of the couch beckon him to do otherwise. He can’t think. Usually he is the one who can iron out the folds of a situation, a cool collected mind built to play in contrast to his sister. But now his thoughts are a mess- contorted underneath the blunt of his embarrassment. If Belle were here now, she’d laugh right in his face.

It’s her fault he’s in this mess to begin with.

(“You suck at hiding it, you know,” Belle is at his side in the doorway, waving you goodbye for the day. Her words make him jolt.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Your crush, obviously.”

Wise is almost sure that for a moment, his heart stops beating. He barely manages to suppress the gasp that threatens to spill out of his throat.

Instead he brushes it off, turns on his heel pointedly and shakes his head from a sudden bout of fake-exhaustion.

“Okay. I’m calling it a night—”

“You’re probably not the only one to like them, Wise.”

He stops in his tracks.

Because she's right. In the months the two have come to know you, you've been the kind, helpful neighbor who has helped them through thick and thin. You are known on Sixth Street, a regular name heard from store to store— he'd be foolish to think that he's the only one that has warmth bloom in his chest at the sight of you. Damn.

“Buuut,” Belle nudges him playfully on the shoulder, her signature smile making her eyes crinkle at the edges, “You could be the first to make a move.”

“Belle–”

“I’ll even help! Come on Wise!”)

And now he’s here, with his heart fit to burst out of his chest.

“So…uh,”

Your attention is on him now, the smoothness of his voice pulling you from the visuals of the movie. Little does he know, Wise is a pleasant sight for the eyes. He has a soft, lopsided smile, and his complexion is tinted with warmth because of his room’s dim lighting. (It’s strange, though, that the more you look the more intense it seems to get.) His eyes are usually crystal clear and focused, but now they are glossed over with something that looks like unease.

The longer you stare, the harder his heart beats against his ribcage. It’s not fair, truly. You’ve only sat next to him and looked in his direction, yet his face feels like it burns and his tongue is too heavy to form proper words. Movies are his thing. Belle had suggested this because it should be easy. But he can’t think straight when butterflies are soaring in his stomach.

At the very least, he wants to see if you’re even enjoying the documentary, so he wills his mouth to do something other than open and immediately snap shut.

“Do you…like me?”

The movie. He meant the movie. The sentence was supposed to be: Do you like the movie.

There is something pitiful, Wise thinks, in how he scrambles to make up for his botched words. The calm, steady tones of his voice are replaced by chopped up mix-mashes of sentences, trying desperately to weave into something coherent.

To no avail of course.

His mouth can’t seem to stop now that it’s started, fragment after fragment tumbling freely out of his mouth– like it has a mind of its own. He’s flushed up to the ears, the pink flush to his skin now all- encompassing. His mouth just keeps moving– until you manage to stop it with your own.

You can feel his breath hitch in his throat. Wise doesn’t think he deserves a reward this good after fumbling so badly, but when your lips brush against his he can’t find it in himself to be truly upset. You are pulling at the edges of his jacket, hands digging hard into the material to ensure he doesn’t try to pull away. You can’t stand to see him apologize for crossing some sort of nonexistent line– your feelings are returned.

“Does that answer your question?”

Wise has to take a moment to breathe. The kiss was a short little thing, one that was chaste in nature– you just wanted him to be sure of your own feelings. The blue-green of his eyes are focused on you– truly focused, this time, not a fleeting glance that is quickly cast away.

“Wise?”

Your voice snaps him out of the daze he was in.

“Yeah. Yeah, but,”

It’s his turn to pull you in this time– subtly soft hands cupping your cheeks.

“Would you mind ‘answering’ me again?”

Belle is someone you’ve always looked up to.

She’s sweet and smart, and throughout all your errands throughout Sixth Street she’s always available to lend a hand. You couldn’t find a paper long enough to list all the reasons you’re grateful for her presence.

That being said, when you’re face to face with her, you can’t quite seem to get yourself together.

“C’mon, you’re not going easy on me, are you?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Belle pouting, brows furrowed and bottom lip jutted out. It’s adorable, and you’re so taken that you fully run into her snake on the arcade machine.

It was her idea to go out once the day had come to a close. The sun still hangs lazily in the sky, casting everything in gold. The arcade is a place where you can relax after being pulled this way and that by different people around town. This time, Belle joins you, offhandedly mentioning how she also needs to destress from such a long day at work.

You’re a bit distracted, though, when the neon lights reflect in her eyes and make her smile that much more radiant.

“You’re not answering…” Belle gasps, complete with a theatrical hand to her chest, “You are, aren’t you!”

“No, of course not! I just,” It dawns on you that the arcade is nearly empty, and suddenly this one-on-one game of snake seems far more intimate than it actually is. It’s just you and her. You can’t help but feel a bit giddy on the inside– the excitement must deal a blow to your accuracy.

“I’m just off my game, that’s all.”

Belle hums, contemplative. You can’t help but feel worried when the gears of her brain start turning.

“In that case…That just means we need to up the steaks!”

“Up the steaks?”

She nods, and her smile grows more devious by the second.

“Mhm! Let’s say…” Belle taps her chin, and though she is putting on a show of trying to think of something, you have a sneaking suspicion that she has already decided what it is she’s after, “The loser has to give something to the winner?”

You know, distantly, that this has to play into Belle’s hands somehow. But she’s never done you any harm, and her eagerness is so palpable that you can’t help but concede.

“Alright, alright. Fine.”

There is nothing but the buzz and click of the machine for a while, and Belle was right– the new motivation lights a fire underneath you, and suddenly your nerves are replaced by a burning desire to win. You don’t know what you’ll ask for if you do– by the time you two are finished here, with the score finally settled, you’re sure most of Sixth Street’s shops will be closed. But you want to win.

You swerve at the last minute to avoid Belle’s snake, grabbing a diamond on the tile in front by the skin of your teeth. But Belle has always been sneaky, able to pull a last-minute change in a situation with ease. She cuts a sharp turn, and the rest of her snake is able to encircle yours. You watch with a sickly sense of dread as your snake breaks into itty-bitty pieces.

You heave a sigh– at least it was a good game. But you’re still soured at the loss of a win that was so close.

“Aww, what’s wrong?” Belle is grinning, eyes forming little crescents, “Don’t tell me you’re a sore loser…”

You roll your eyes, but you’re far too endeared to be properly annoyed.

“’Course not. You won,”

The arcade’s lights have started to dim by now, the peachy-colored sky dipped into inky darkness as you step out.

“Even if you were sneaky about it.”

“Was not!”

You glare out of the corner of your eye, and again you are met with a playful pout.

“What is it you want, anyway?” You busy yourself with walking a few steps ahead, avoiding her moonlit face as much as possible. How can you put up a fight when she looks at you like that?

“Well,” Belle gazes upon the shops along Sixth Street, their windows dark and their doors closed, “Everything is closed for the night, looks like. I’ll have to get a bit creative, huh?”

Belle’s footsteps grow louder, and before you know it she’s made her way in front of you, eyes full of starlight.

“How about…”

She takes slow, calculated steps toward you, and your heart leaps in your throat.

“A kiss?”

Belle is but a few inches away from you, her head tilted and her gaze soft. Her voice is quiet and unusually meek as she says it, like her confidence had reached its limit.

“…O-of course, if you don’t want to–”

You pull her in before you can second-guess yourself. Her lips are plush, and though she is initially surprised by your sudden movement, it takes barely a second for you to feel them smile against your own. Her arms link around you like it’s the easiest thing she’s ever done, and the silver-tinted street is drowned out like it never mattered.

When you part, her face is flushed a pretty shade of pink. You aren’t better off– you’re so happy that you now stand on wobbly legs.

“Happy now?”

“Hm, not quite. I think you should give me another.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

ty for reading! rbs w/comments are appreciated!

[sleepiexx]

Something He’d Overheard

James Potter x fem!Reader

Note: I’ve been in the marauders fandom for over 7 years now, I think it’s high time I write a fic for it. Part of my efforts to branch out into writing for more fandoms than COD.

Summary: James finds himself head over heels when he sees you defending a first year student.

Warnings: some curse words here and there, bullying mention, overall rlly soft

Word Count: 1151

After countless fictional characters and random strangers on the street with pretty faces catching his burning ire, anyone who knew James Potter knew good and well that he was a lover. He had long believed in love at first sight, merely seeing someone eye-catching often sparked thoughts of budding romance, fantasies of how they would love and what their relationship would look like amongst other things. Soulmates and fate were a big concept to him too, for example his favorite book character, a headstrong witch who was kind and brilliant, well James had a hunch that in another life they were lovers.

He’d fallen in love just about a million times, and yet something about you was different.

You had caught James’ eye one day as he made the trek to the library to collect his good friend Remus for their group’s usual night’s worth of mischief. Your beautiful eyebrows were pinched together in anger, a sneer on your pretty lips, your voice was loud and firm as you scolded one of the usual culprits (a death eater in the making) for bullying a defenseless first year student.

Your hand clutched your wand intently as you damn near hissed the words, “you wanna try picking on someone who can actually fight back?”

They let out a scoff and left the scene, leaving you, the first year, and unbeknownst to you, James.

The switch between standoffishness and caring came like whiplash. Your tensed frame relaxed as you knelt down in front of the first year (those eleven year olds seemed to be growing shorter and shorter every year). Your dominant hand reached out and gently wiped away the younger child’s tears.

“Everything he said is bullshit,” you began, “he’s angry at the world, looking for someplace to fit in, and unfortunately it’s really easy to fall into the wrong crowd. You haven’t, and he’s jealous of that.”

The kid sniffled, pout still indented firmly on their little lips, “who would be jealous of me?”

You shook your head in disbelief, “plenty of people! You have a gift that a large part of the world’s population doesn’t possess, that’s something to be proud of no matter what other witches and wizards try to tell you. Heck, I’m even jealous of you.”

As you spoke a smile crept its way on the first year’s face, “you are?” They asked.

“Yeah, I am!” You nodded, “you’ve got six and a half more years left at Hogwarts to have fun and run about the castle, I only have another year and a half.”

“This place is pretty cool,” they muttered.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Your face lit up and you stood to your feet, offering the small child your hand so you could walk them back to their common room. You’d never seen the awe-stricken onlooker, but the scene was now burned into James’ mind.

It followed him to the library, where he convinced Remus to follow him to their other friends, a long walk that Remus spent listening to James drone on and on about you. It followed him to his dorm that night, and every other night for weeks leaving the marauders to know every single detail about you. And it most especially followed him to each of the classes you had together where James would stare at you and admire your appearance while daydreaming about you.

It was the third time that week that the scene had followed him to the lunch table when Sirius slammed his palms on the table, “I’m putting an end to this nonsense right now. You either talk to her, Prongs, or I will. And trust me, you won’t like how in depth I will go about those daydreams you’ve been having where-“

Sirius couldn’t even finish his sentence with how fast James jumped in, “alright, alright! I have potions with her next, I’ll talk to her, I swear.”

The statement leaves the marauders satiated in conversation as they finish up their lunch and head to their classes.

In potions, James nearly decides to abandon ship, facing a new anxiety he’d never experienced before when dealing with a girl. He decides that maybe it would be best to keep to himself, too afraid to stumble on his words and make a fool of himself in front of such a pretty girl. All this is until Professor Slughorn proclaims that today’s assignment requires a partner. If there ever was a time to shoot his shot, it’s now.

He takes deep breaths, adjusting his posture and forcing his every step to radiate confidence before he reaches you, “I was wondering if maybe you’d like to be my partner?”

You smile, “I’d love to! Fair warning, though, I’m not the best at potions.”

James bursts out into a giddy grin, “I’m willing to pick up the slack.”

“Unfortunately, I bet I’ll make you eat your words,” nonetheless you collect the ingredients as James collects the supplies.

When everything is together, James reads off the instructions. You follow them with great care, not wanting to make a fool of yourself in front of your new, devilishly handsome potions partner.

You make to slice open one of the ingredients, as the instructions called for, but your knife slips, sending the damned thing hurdling straight towards your face. You close your eyes, bracing yourself for an impact that never comes, reopening them only to be met with the sight of the back of James’ hand.

“Holy shit,” you curse, “did you just catch that?”

James nods, almost surprised at himself.

You shake your head in disbelief, “if you weren’t such a good chaser, I’d suggest you take up seeking.”

Your statement renews James’ confidence, so you’d noticed him too?

“Can I show you how to cut it?” He asks, a smile on his face.

You nod, watching his hands intently, confused when he disappears behind you. You quickly piece together what’s happening when he grabs your hands with his own, handing you the knife and positioning you so that you slice through the ingredient like it’s nothing.

“Great job!” James praises, even though it was him that had done all the work.

You still take the compliment, grinning from ear to ear as he tosses the final ingredient into the potion, creating the rich purple color you were striving for, “we make a really good team, Potter.”

“Oh yeah?” He asks, “well what do you say we see if we make as good of a couple?” You feel blood rush to your cheeks, James further clarifies “Hogsmeade this weekend? Just you and me?”

And you nod eagerly, “I would love that.”

If Sirius thought James asking you out would be the solution to him raving on and on about you all hours of the day, he was sorely mistaken and he was about to figure that out as soon as James stepped into the common room.

[shycoconutt]

Life changed a lot after Nanami Kento came into it.

Nights alone in your apartment feasting on cup ramen with microwaved broccoli (for your health obviously), turned into homemade dinners under candlelight. The long ride to work in the back of an Uber turned into riding in the passenger seat of Nanami’s luxury car, hands intertwined over the middle console. Quick showers turned into long, steaming baths with essential oils. Winding down from a long day turned from nights out at the bar to nights in under the covers while he softly reads to you.

“Darling, hey, wake up,” you hear Nanami whisper in your ear as you feel your shoulders shake lightly. You groan in protest, not wanting to be broken away from the warmth and smell of him all around you.

“I know, I know,” he softly chuckles, “but we need to get ready for bed properly.”

You nuzzle into his side more and wrap your arms around him. Squeezing him slightly, you take one long, dramatic inhale of his scent in the crook of his neck, fluttering your eyelashes to give him butterfly kisses.

“What are you doing?,” he laughs, “It tickles!”

“Just taking some for the road,” you smile into his skin.

“You’re such a dork.”

With Nanami, everything always seems to be taken care of. There is no need to over-extend your brain power, because once a thought or worry passes through, you know it’s been meticulously mulled over by your other half.

Your appointments are scheduled and on the calendar. Your laundry is clean and neatly put away in the proper place. Your memories and photos are filed and categorized, with some of your favorites even framed and displayed in your home and offices. Your books, CDs and other media are sorted alphabetically in pristine condition.

“But wouldn’t it be cool if they were categorized by, I dunno, color? We could make a rainbow wall!” you suggest as you marvel at his work.

Nanami, who is currently kneeling on the floor putting the last of your books on the shelf, turns and gives you a disapproving glare, “Absolutely not. It would be a disservice to your collection.”

“A disservice to my collection?”

“What happens when a series contains books of all different colored covers? Am I supposed to just separate them?”

You blink.

“You’re right. I apologize for even suggesting something so foul.”

But, most importantly, over everything, your body, mind, and soul are finally at ease. Past anxieties rarely present themselves anymore, and, if they do, you never dwell. People say you’re glowing, and they aren’t wrong. Your skin is clear, your hair is shiny and smooth. Your favorite clothes fit a little better, and your shoes are always polished to look brand new.

“Nananmi Kento looks good on you, girl,” Shoko muses, watching you over her lunch in the breakroom.

You smirk, daring not to look across the table to conserve your blush, “Feels good too.”

“Gross!” 

You curl over in laughter as Shoko chucks a strawberry at your head.

All this and more, because Nanami cares, protects, cherishes, and respects you. He would never, ever in a million years try to hurt you in any way. He is honest and loyal, vowed by his duty to be a man. Ever since he was young, he put immense thought into its meaning, only to be confirmed by one look at you.

One look and he knew that you were the one he would spend the rest of his life with.

“I think I should take you out on a date, if you don’t mind of course,” Nanami stutters, gently pulling you aside after one of your meetings.

“You think we should date?” you question, head reeling.

“Yes,” he starts, “I think we’ve been friends for long enough and it’s time to move forward with our relationship.”

The disbelief you feel must be painted on your face because Nanami’s normally pale skin is flushed cherry red just looking at you.

“I mean, long term,” he’s babbling now, “I want to make you my wife. Well, I wanted you to be my wife from the beginning, you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, but they always say the best relationships start from friendships, so I thought it would be best to take our time. Naturally, now is as good a time as any. We’re at good places in our careers, we already spend a lot of time together, our personalities mesh, and, I don’t mean to be coarse, but I think we’d look pretty good tog-"

Before your mind has a chance to catch up, you’re already cutting him off with a passionate kiss, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him down close to you. After a beat, you feel Nanami’s broad, warm hands grab hold around your waist, pulling you to him. 

His lips feel so soft, and more plush than you anticipated. You part yours slightly in an invitation, and he’s quick to swipe his tongue against your bottom lip. You reciprocate and smile when you feel the vibrations of a small moan escape him.

You break the kiss first.

“I’d marry you yesterday if I could, Kento.”

Where he ebbs, you flow. With the few traits he lacks, you flourish. In social settings, you pick up when he doesn’t have the bandwidth to keep going. You can read his mind from his body language alone. You've shown him how to aim for the ideal, even when his pragmatic nature leads the way. You’ve taught him to slow down, even when life is relentlessly shoving him along.

“Kento, are you- are you crying?” you question in shock.

It’s difficult to process the information in front of you. You’re not seeing things, right? That’s definitely a tear falling down his cheek. Quickly, you bring your thumb to his face, swiping it away.

Catching your wrist, he brings your pulse point to his lips, giving you a small kiss there.

Here, feet in the white sand of the island of Redang, under the dark, starry sky, Kento goes down to kneel before you.

Recognizing the gesture, your heart swells and all the air leaves your lungs. Both your hands immediately cover your mouth, and the burn of tears forming ignites behind your eyes.

Through the blur, you see him smile. 

Regaining composure over your senses, you remind yourself to take everything in. The way his honey-brown eyes reflect the lights in the distance, the way his open collar ruffles in the breeze, the appearance of the new freckles from the Malaysian sun that decorate his exposed chest, how his unstyled, blonde hair moves freely, how one of his hands takes both of your own, while the other holds out a breathtakingly beautiful solitaire diamond ring.

Your eyes take him all in and land back on his face, one that displays the most loving, adoring expression you’ve ever received. 

“When you came into my life, everything changed. I knew, from that point forward, I would dedicate my existence to ensuring your happiness. Nothing matters to me more than seeing you smile. It gives me purpose—fills the air in my lungs. I have never, and will never need anything more.”

You watch the tears cascade down his cheeks, mirroring your own.

“Please do me the honor of marrying me and making you my wife.”

One second passes, and you squeal, “Yes!”

a/n: This was supposed to be smutty and turned into something fluffy. I can't help it! I just adore him so much. also, how do we feel about this format? I've never done something like this before!

[ohbueckers]

WHAT’S MY NAME? you got that something that keeps me so off balance. baby, you’re a challenge. let’s explore your talent.

THIS IS PART TWO! part one here. pairing, paige bueckers x tutor!oc. notes, blah blah blah place name proper name backstory stuff. warnings, sexual content & interruptions.

“—and she literally asked me what my name was. you heard that? and was dead serious, too.”

the team—well, most of the team burst out into a fit of laughter, their voices echoing through the locker room. it was game day—the same game paige had invited liana to. the same game the blonde paid for liana to go to. they’d only talked about a handful the past few days, the two of them shamefully finding excuses to text each other. the last thing they’d talked about was the game, the blonde confirming everything. in her own words, the girl needed a good ol’ uconn women’s basketball experience.

“man, what’s the point of being famous if people don’t even know who you are?” ice snickered, shaking her head as she pulled her jersey over her head. nika leaned back against her locker, her laugh coming out in short, breathy bursts as she tried to catch her breath.

paige let a small smirk tug at the corners of her lips, trying to play it cool. but deep down, it was bothering her more than she wanted to admit. she was paige bueckers. everyone knew her name. and yet here was this girl, this ridiculously pretty girl, who had managed to make her feel like just another student. that wasn’t supposed to happen, but it felt good in a way.

she pushed the thought away as the team continued to poke fun, turning her attention to her shoes, making sure they were laced up tight. they would be playing maryland, and although paige thought it would be an easy dub, she hoped liana wouldn’t be in viewpoint. she wouldn’t be able to focus that way.

“yo, paige.” kk’s voice cut through the laughter, her tone a bit more serious. paige glanced up, catching the way kk hesitated before she spoke again. “i don’t know if this matters to you or whatever, but… i think liana might be seeing someone.”

the words hung in the air for a moment, and paige’s grin faltered just slightly. she raised an eyebrow, waiting for kk to continue.

“like, there’s this girl me and aubrey saw her on campus with the other day. and she’s been checking her phone a lot when i’m around,” kk added, her voice low as if she didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. but paige caught the implication, her attention immediately shifting to aubrey.

she turned to her teammate, her eyes narrowing just a bit. “you saw her too?”

aubrey looked up, hesitating for a moment before nodding. “yeah, i saw them together a couple of times. seemed like more than just friends, you know?” she tried to put it into perspective for her, but paige didn’t even look like she was listening.

for a second, paige let the thought sink in. another girl, huh? she didn’t know why, but it almost made her smirk. this wasn’t some random guy she could brush off. it was another girl—competition, maybe, but also an opportunity. it didn’t shake her confidence; it only made her more certain of what she wanted.

“bro. i don’t give a fuck about none of that.” her voice was a slight mumble. her tone easy, dismissive. she didn’t care who liana was seeing. if anything, the idea of a challenge made this more fun. “she can have my cake and eat it, too.”

more laughs, because paige truly is just ridiculous. then nika, ever the one to call out paige’s chaos, jumped in. “okay, messy boots. do you even have time for a girlfriend right now?”

“who said anything about a girlfriend?”

azzi raised an eyebrow from her seat, studying her best friend’s face. she couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but something told her that this girl, liana, was consuming her thoughts way more than a regular amount.

paige adjusted her jersey, her mind already shifting back to the game. she needed to focus. there’d be time to deal with liana later. for now, it was all about basketball.

fortunately, the team lucked out and the game against maryland went down exactly as paige had expected—an easy dub, with the final score settling at 80 to 48. she wiped the sweat off her brow as the final buzzer sounded, her grin widening as the cheers of the crowd washed over her.

after the game, paige made her way to the sidelines where a cluster of fans waited, eager for autographs and pictures. she always made time for this part. it was grounding, in a way, reminding her why she did this in the first place. plus, it was fun. she smiled as she signed a few basketballs, shoes, and chatting easily with her supporters. she even spotted a little girl in a uconn jersey who blushed so hard she could barely speak when paige hugged her. she loved these moments. they made the grind worth it.

“paige, you did amazing today!” one fan gushed, shoving a poster her way.

the chatter almost always overlapped. “appreciate it,” paige replied, scribbling her signature. she tossed a few jokes, snapped some pictures, and soaked in the attention. but even with the crowd in front of her, her thoughts kept drifting to liana.

luckily, the girl had been out of sight during the game, so she was mostly out of mind. mostly. paige couldn’t help but wonder where she was—if she’d seen the game or if she’d already left.

as if on cue, paige caught sight of a familiar figure approaching from the edge of the court. her heart did a little flip that she wasn’t ready to acknowledge, so she focused on finishing up an autograph, trying to play it cool. but as liana got closer, paige found herself fumbling with the sharpie, her fingers betraying her nerves. she cursed under her breath, quickly adjusting her grip and finishing it off.

finally turning to liana, she shot her the biggest smile, her hands playing with the cap. liana’s eyes swept over her, taking in the sight of paige in her jersey, her arms still tense from the game and too buff to stay cordial. the girl’s breath hitched, and there was a moment where paige swore she saw something in her gaze—something like admiration, maybe more. it made paige stand a little taller, a little more ego-fulfilled because of what she’d picked up on.

“well, look who decided to show up,” paige teased, twirling the sharpie between her fingers as if she hadn’t just fumbled it a second ago. “you come to support your student, huh? very admirable of you, teach.”

liana smiled, her eyes still lingering on paige’s arms purposefully before meeting her gaze. “gotta support my students, right? especially the ones who are a little… extra credit.”

paige chuckled, not being able to contain her shit-eating grin as she rocked back and forth on her feet. she tipped her head back, maintaining eye contact the way she always did. “extra credit? i’ll take that as a compliment.” paige patted her chest, more specifically, her heart.

“ you should,” liana shot back, her voice light, eyebrows raised and teeth showing in a way that made paige’s chest tighten. it almost felt too good.

for a moment, paige forgot about the crowd around her. it was just liana and her, standing there in the aftermath of a game that didn’t seem nearly as important as this moment. she peeped how liana’s gaze lingered on her jersey, her arms, and even the construction of her face.

“so, listen,” paige started, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. liana stepped closer, moving out of the way so someone could get past them. she couldn’t help but feel a little bit exposed under paige’s eyes, but she liked it. not only was she taller, but she looked down at her like she was prey. liana wondered if she looked at everyone like this while talking to them. “a few of us are heading to ted’s after this. you should come.”

liana hesitated, just like before, but paige could tell she was considering it as she stuttered. “i don’t know…”

paige didn’t let her finish. “bring her.”

liana’s eyebrows shot up, clearly taken aback. “what?”

“the girl you be with,” paige said, her voice steady and accent heavy. “she can come. jus’ want you there.”

liana’s expression softened. paige bueckers had been asking about her. if not that, someone had obviously known she’d cared enough to report back. liana continued to look at her, a mix of surprise and something else that paige couldn’t quite pin down. but whatever it was, it made her feel like she was winning. and paige liked to win.

“alright,” liana finally said, her lips curving into a small smile. “maybe i’ll stop by.”

“good,” paige replied, her grin returning full force. “i’ll see you there, then.”

ted’s was buzzing by the time paige and the team settled in. the usual crowd filled the bar—uconn students, locals. the team had claimed their spot, laughter spilling from their table as they recapped the game and teased each other over everything from missed shots to the post-game interviews. paige was in the middle of telling a story, spinning it out with her usual charm, but her eyes kept darting to the entrance. she was waiting, though she’d never admit it.

it had been about 30 minutes when she saw liana walk in. but she wasn’t alone. a girl followed close behind her, as expected, and paige took her time sizing her up, sucking in a breath.

naomi had brown dreadlocks that hung just past her shoulders, neat and well-kept. she wore a black tee that clung to her frame, paired with simple jeans and boots that looked worn in but sturdy. her presence was different from liana’s, who had changed into a mini skirt and a crop top—more solid, less playful. it made paige’s fingers itch to push at that calmness, to see what it would take to crack it.

as liana and naomi approached the table, paige kept her expression neutral, leaning back in her seat, arms crossed like she was just another teammate hanging out. no big deal. but anyone who knew her knew that she was anything but unbothered right now.

“hey, guys,” liana greeted, her voice warm as always as kk pulled her into an informal side hug, the rest of the team welcoming her normally, some a little more hyper with liquid courage. naomi stood beside her, offering a polite nod to the group.

paige took in the scene, her eyes flicking between the two. landing on liana, she let out a, “hey,” her tone casual. “nice to meet you.” that one was for naomi, paige’s head jerking up in an acknowledgment nod.

“same,” naomi replied, her voice smooth and even, her gaze briefly scanning paige before settling elsewhere.

introductions were quick, and soon enough, naomi found herself caught up in a conversation with aubrey about some mutual interest that paige couldn’t care less about. she watched as aubrey expertly engaged the girl, pulling her into the group with ease. aubrey had always been good at that. it was all too convenient, really, how aubrey was handling the distraction, and paige didn’t miss the cheeky smile aubrey sent her over naomi’s shoulder. it was a silent you’re welcome that paige shook her head at.

with naomi’s attention diverted, paige turned fully toward liana. the energy between them shifted slightly, becoming more charged now that there wasn’t anyone watching too closely. paige leaned in just a bit, enough to close the gap. “drinks?” the blonde suggested, chuckling at liana’s immediate nod as she slid in next to her, dragging the menu in front of her.

“you not a usual?” paige asked, eyebrows furrowing as she looked over her shoulder and at the menu. there was a sense of curiosity beneath her casual tone, a question of why someone like liana wasn’t a regular in a place like ted’s.

“nah, i don’t go out often,” liana replied. she picked up the menu, perfectly manicured fingers following under the words and scanning it like she was genuinely considering her options, but paige could tell her mind was elsewhere.

paige made the connection easily—it explained why she hadn’t seen liana around before. she leaned back slightly, taking a moment to study her profile. something she’d grown accustomed to. “makes sense,” she said, her voice more thoughtful now. “probably why i haven’t seen you around.”

liana nodded, still looking at the menu. “yeah, i’m usually busy with work. tutoring and stuff.”

paige’s curiosity peaked, and she turned her gaze and body more fully on liana. “so, how do you know naomi?” she asked, her tone carefully casual, though the question held more weight than she let on.

liana hesitated for a moment, then shrugged, her expression slipping into something a little more guarded. “we met through mutual friends. it’s… nothing serious,” she added quickly, her voice firm, as if she needed to make that point clear.

“right,” paige replied, her eyes lingering on liana, catching that hint of uncertainty beneath her words. was she lying? why’d she feel the need to?

liana met her blue hues, her lips curving into a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “right,” she echoed, though there was a slight tremor in her voice. they both knew what she was trying to convince herself of, and it wasn’t quite working.

a couple more drinks in, liana and paige had loosened up a mile. they talked about where they were from, life on campus, their experiences obviously extremely different, and the blonde had even gotten around to asking her about her tattoo. the one behind her ear. it was some intricate thing her mom used to draw before she passed—right before her first year.

somehow, the deep conversation topics hadn’t made anything awkward or less easy to talk about. it was too easy. and in all honesty, quite scary.

“you looked really good on the court tonight,” liana admitted, her voice softer, more personal as she let her eyes roam over paige. definitely liquid courage, but there was denying they’d had the same amount, and there was no mistaking the interest behind those words, the way her gaze lingered a little too long on paige’s arms, her legs.

“liana!” paige groaned, sitting back in her chair as a sheepish smile took over her face. it was the kind of grin that she tried to hide but couldn’t quite manage, not when liana was looking at her like that.

“what?” she responded, her tone innocent enough and high-pitched through a giggle, though her curls bounced with each turn of her head, making it clear she knew exactly what she was doing.

“you can’t say stuff like that,” paige muttered, though her grin only widened, betraying her words. she leaned in, elbows resting on the table, her eyes locked on liana’s like a challenge.

“why not?” liana shot back, leaning against her elbow, her voice dropping into a teasing whisper. somehow, her eyes looked more doe under the dimly lit bar, more seducing you could say. “you don’t like compliments?”

paige’s eyes narrowed, but there was no malice behind it—just the spark of a challenge she was more than willing to take on. “i like them just fine. but coming from you…”

she arched an eyebrow. “what about me?”

paige chuckled, shaking her head slightly. “you know exactly what i’m talking ‘bout.” she didn’t back down despite being ultimately defeated by liana’s boldness tonight. she could get used to it.

liana’s smile softened, the teasing edge still there, but there was something more genuine beneath it. “maybe i do,” she admitted quietly. she turned away, paige licking her lips as she studied the way her lips wrapped around her straw, and—yeah, that was it.

paige reached out, her fingers brushing against liana’s as she pulled her out of her seat, not bothering with excuses anymore. the need to be alone with her, to be away from naomi and her glances every couple minutes, was too strong to ignore. and it’s not like paige hadn’t thought about doing this since the moment she laid eyes on her, so…

liana was on her in an instant, pressing paige’s back against the single bathroom wall. her hands were everywhere—fingers threading into paige’s braids, tugging just enough to make her groan into her mouth. paige���s hands found liana’s hips before strolling down to her ass, lost in the sloppiness of the kiss and everything it brought—like another heartbeat. paige’s grip tightened on her thighs, pulling her closer, up into her arms and onto the sink.

liana was perched on the edge of the sink, legs pressed against the porcelain. it was a cold contrast, but the least of her worries. the kiss grew more desperate, more consuming, until paige pulled back slightly, her breath ragged, her eyes practically aching.

“you want this?” paige asked, her voice low, fingers already moving underneath liana’s skirt, seeking and teasing at the same time.

but just as her hand slipped higher, liana’s fingers wrapped around her wrist, stopping her. “it’s wrong,” liana whined slightly, as if it was hard to physically not do this. her eyes searched paige’s, trying to find a reason to stop, but it was clear she was struggling.

paige’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, her breath still coming in short, sharp bursts. “she your girlfriend?”

liana shook her head, the motion almost frantic, her curls bouncing with the movement. “no,” she whispered, the word barely audible above the pounding of their hearts.

the blonde’s lips curved into a slow smile. “then there’s no home to wreck,” she murmured. the moment those words left her mouth, it was like their thoughts snapped back into place, sharper and more urgent than before.

liana didn’t protest again. instead, she pulled paige closer by the collar of her shirt, the movement making her gasp, tongue poking the inside of her cheek with a smirk. paige’s hand found its way back under liana’s skirt, fingers grazing over the fabric of her underwear, teasing her.. make her squirm.

“look at you,” paige taunted, watching liana’s reactions. she slid her fingers back and forth, deliberately avoiding where liana wanted her most. “so wet already…“

her breathing picked up, hands gripping the edge of the sink as she tried to ground herself, her body betraying her, though. “paige, please…” she whispered, the desperation clear as day.

paige’s reaction was more than just one of satisfaction. just earlier this week she’d been asking what her name was, and now she was moaning it. her fingers finally slipped beneath the soaked fabric, finding her heat. she traced the outline of her folds, slow and deliberate, making liana whimper with every touch. her face stayed pressed into the blonde’s shoulder, the smell of some expensive cologne and fresh laundry filling her nostrils. she wanted every part of her.

paige didn’t make her wait any longer. she slipped one finger inside, feeling the tight warmth as liana clenched around her. she added her middle finger, her movements slow and deep, making sure she felt every inch. “so tight for me… say that shit again.”

liana took a moment to process what exactly she wanted her to say, her mind not even on the right planet. catching on, she moaned out a soft, “paige…” and she groaned. she started to thrust, her fingers moving and stopping at the base where her silver rings were. they curled up at one point in a come hither motion, the sensation causing liana to screw her eyes shut, mouth open pornographically wide.

liana moaned loudly, her back arching as paige’s pace quickened, the sound of their bodies filling the small bathroom. her thumb found her clit, rubbing tight circles that had liana gasping, her nails digging into her shoulders. “yes… right there… don’t—mm.. stop,” liana panted, her voice breaking with every thrust.

paige’s fingers worked relentlessly inside of her, her pace quickening as she felt liana tighten around her. she leaned in closer, her breath warm, and whispered in her ear, “i’m fuckin’ splitting you open, baby. you feel that?“

liana could only moan in response, her body shaking as paige’s thumb circled her clit with perfect precision, eliciting a different sound between each movement. she was right there, so close to coming, her mind completely lost in the moment. but just as she felt herself tipping over the edge, a sharp knock echoed through the bathroom door. “liana? you in there?” naomi’s voice cut through to the both of them, pulling liana back to reality with a harsh jolt. if that wasn’t a slap in the face, she didn’t know what was.

“fuck,” she mumbled, frustration clear in her tone as she clung to paige, trying to keep herself grounded in the moment, even as her mind screamed for her to get a grip.

paige’s own frustration mirrored liana’s, looking back at the door. she pulled her hand back with a quickness, watching liana struggle to catch her breath, deciding to help her down from the sink. she steadied her as if nothing had just happened between them, proceeding to follow up with a few lingering kisses on liana’s lips. intimate, sure—but blondie couldn’t resist.

“imma’ text you, alright?” her words were casual, but the look in her eyes wasn’t.

liana nodded, trying to get her thoughts in order, but she was still reeling from how quickly paige could shift from intense to gentle. it was throwing her off balance, and she didn’t like that. how does she do that? how does she make me want her even more everytime she says something? she knew she needed to get out of there before naomi started asking questions, but the entire situation didn’t feel real. they’d have some unfinished business to take care of by fate.

at the door, liana couldn’t help but fake a pout, a small attempt to regain some control, even if it was just a tease. but then paige stuck her fingers in her mouth mindlessly, licking them clean with wide eyes. liana’s mind went blank for a second, her first instinct being a gasp, heat flooding to her cheeks in a swarm as she swatted at paige’s arm. “you’re so—” she started, but paige’s low giggle cut her off, dodging the hits. god, she’s infuriating. infuriatingly cute.

“go on,” paige urged with that damn smirk, and liana knew she was right. she needed to walk out first, leave paige to follow behind like nothing had happened.

with one last look, liana stepped out of the bathroom, her heart pounding. as the door closed behind her, she took a deep breath, trying to steady herself.. not look suspicious.

naomi was waiting just outside, looking at liana with a questioning expression. “you good?”

she forced a smile, nodding quickly. “yeah, just… needed a minute.”

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

fem reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, reader gets into a fight, this fits into the weirdo! shouto ficlet i wrote, older bro touya au, shouto's scar, kindaaa non neurotypical shouto hinted if you squint lol, shouto n reader are lil misfits, lemme know if i missed sum else !

"can i help you, young man ?"

"i hurt my knee."

you're laying in the nurses office when a familiar voice hits your ears.

"oh really ?" no verbal response but you assume there's a nod because the nurse continues "what happened ?" she sounds skeptical.

"i fell." the person, a boy, replies. the nurse sighs, complaining to herself about kids these days coming to the nurses office for every little thing. you're still pretending to be asleep, not wanting to go back to class yet because you know your classmates won't leave you alone. your face is turned away as you hear the office door shut and soon after there's shuffling in the bed next to you.

your eyes snap open and you turn to see a scarred boy looking right at you, blinking slowly.

"shouto !"

"hi." he answers simply. unmoving, he lays on his stomach. after getting over your shock you copy him. "what're you doing here ?" you ask. your friend blinks in response.

"i hurt my knee."

you look at him incredulously "what are you really doing here ?"

shouto lays quietly simply staring at you. he has a habit of doing that, you've heard your classmates call it weird, but you like when he looks at you. his eyes are pretty. his gaze trails off towards the sheets, "i wanted to come see you." he admits. your eyes widen and you feel your ears burn. shouto doesn't seem affected by his confession, his face as deadpan as it usually is.

"everyone is talking about you in class." your nose scrunches up at his words, huffing with a scowl. "what're they saying ?"

"that you won."

that makes your scowl shrink a bit. your eyebrows raise and you shuffle a bit on the bed and hum. shouto only stares. he isn't much of a talker. you've noticed it's because he just doesn't realise that you're supposed to keep making conversation when you're talking with someone. your classmate mahoro says it makes things awkward, but shouto has such kind eyes when he looks at you, you don't mind. and sometimes, you don't really feel like talking either.

"you didn't have to do that you know." is what he says after a while, you blink at him like you'd already forgotten and he continues. "you didn't have to push tanaka like that, it wasn't a big deal."

tanaka, just the mention of the boy's name is enough to make your scowl return full force.

he's one of your classmates that keeps making jokes that all his other friends laugh at that aren't even funny. he doesn't bother you much, but he's kind of a bully and he makes a face whenever you end up on his team for dodgeball. he makes sure you see it too.

you don't care about him much, because he doesn't bother you. but he bothers shouto. you think he does so because shouto doesn't care to confront him about it so he thinks he's stupid. but shouto's the smartest in your class. today though, he went too far and it made you mad, so you shoved him and he'd shoved you back and suddenly you were surrounded by a group of kids screaming in your ears. your face stung from where he'd hit you and then a teacher was pulling you away from him. then you'd ended up here.

shouto hadn't been coming to school for a bit a while ago and when he did come back he had a huge bandage over his left eye. you'd tried to ask him about it but he never told you. so you never pried, but you heard the (not so quiet) whispers from your classmates and shouto who never seemed like he cared, furrowed his brows and slightly clenched his fists underneath your shared desk whenever he'd hear them. and it got worse when he took the bandage off, revealing a big red blotchy scar.

shouto doesn't usually mind what people think, but he'd asked you if he looked ugly and you assured him that you thought he looked super cool. (you'd never seen his eyes so wide and shiny, so pretty.)

tanaka had disagreed with you though. he opened his big mouth and told shouto he looked better with his bandage on. and you'd snapped. you hated that stupid bandage because it'd make his usual face so gloomy. because you only got to see one of his kind eyes and you loved looking at both.

and so, here you were.

"he had it comin', he made fun of you !" you scowl, shouto's brows furrow the slightest bit as well, mildly irritated. "but you got in trouble."

"well, he made fun of you !" you repeat. you both stay unmoving, laying on your stomach while the nurse is out on lunch break. shouto's lips move up into a pout and for the first time ever you hear him huff.

"i wasn't mad about it. i was fine." he insists, his eyes drift towards his fingers picking at his sheets. "you got hurt because of me, and i don't like that." he mumbles sadly. his cheek smushed against the hard pillow makes him look like a little puppy. you hear your heart in your ears.

"well, i didn't just do it for you," you try, "tanaka's always pickin' on everyone, so i taught him a lesson." you huff. you believed you sounded convincing, but shouto looks anything but convinced. others can't see it well, but you can.

"but everyone's gonna think you did it for me. and they're gonna call you weird again," shouto grips and pulls at the white sheets, you're worried they'll rip off and he'll get in trouble. "even though you're not."

you don't care, you'd been called weird plenty of times at your old school. but shouto's bothered for you and your heart beats in your ears "do you think i'm weird ?" shouto quickly shakes his head, as best he can in the position he's in. your chest feels warm and you smile.

"then i don't care what everyone thinks."

the sound of sheets crinkling stops, and shouto stares at you again. he sits up to instead go sit down on your bed. you bring your legs closer to yourself to make space for him.

"i still don't want you to get hurt, even if it's not just for me." his pretty eyes, one surrounded by red zero on you " i don't like it."

shouto never seemed picky to you. except when it came to his lunch (which was always cold soba) and the order in which he started his day at school (first he changes his shoes, then he takes off his jacket and then went to sit in his seat. exactly like this every day.)

he never told you he particularly liked or disliked anything, usually always shrugging. but he said he doesn't like seeing you hurt. it had made him panic when people started pushing him away to see the fight and he couldn't see you anymore. your classmates were talking about you and he didn't like it. the nurse stood in his way and he didn't like it because she kept him away from you for longer.

he does not like tanaka because he'd punched you in the cheek, your cheek that rises up like the sun when you smile at him.

i don't like when you get hurt, he says. i don't want you to hurt because of me, he thinks. you've got a bandaid on your cheek where you'd gotten punched, but you grin and your cheek rises like the sun, shouto hears his heart in his ears.

you hold out your pinky and promise him you won't do it anymore. holding onto your pinky is comfortable and even after promising he doesn't let go. not even when the nurse checks up on you and scolds you when you shamelessly tell her why you'd landed in her office. he doesn't let go in the hallways even when others are looking. they'll think you're weird for hanging out with him, but you told him you didn't care, and shouto feels like he's floating.

( he only lets go when you get to the principal's office. but he ignores the teacher who passed by and told him to get to class and wraps his pinky right back around yours when you walk back out. your smile is pretty like the sun.)

one time, touya-nii had called you weird, and touya-nii is always right. but this time shouto knows he's wrong. because your smile doesn't dim despite the bandaid on your cheek and you only look at him when you get back to class, despite the people calling for you, your pinky stays tightly wrapped around his, only moving so you can readjust and hold it better.

touya is clearly wrong, and shouto knows you're the nicest person in the world.

[blueeyedgirll]

cuddles - emily prentiss x bau!reader

this fic includes: fluff, cuddling, only one bed trope (kind of?), vague descriptions of cm typical violence, no beta or proofread we die like emily’s fake death, penelope garcia being the best person to ever have graced the earth, no use of y/n, f!reader

a/n: guys i’m on season 7 now (^_-) also i don’t know how the fbi works SUE ME

“God, what a mess!” Emily exclaims, setting her bags down in the corner of the hotel room.

Unfortunately, due to the horrendously overcrowded convention going on nearby and your latest unsub’s comfort zone, you, JJ, Penelope, and Emily were forced to share a room.

“I can’t believe they could only give us two rooms. Couldn’t we have just stayed somewhere else?” JJ adds, removing her coat and hanging it in the room’s tiny closet.

“Unfortunately, my friends, our administration seems to love us enough to pay for our hotels, but not enough to move us into a company they don’t have a rapport with,” Penelope explains. She removes her hair accessories and piles them on the bathroom counter, her foot wedged in the bathroom door to stay in the conversation. “But it’s like a sleepover! Us girls get to share a room, and the boys have their own.”

“I haven’t had a sleepover since I was 12,” JJ says.

“Me neither,” you pipe up. “So who’s sleeping where tonight?”

Your eyes scan the room. Four girls, two beds, and eight eyes glancing at each other.

“I’m fine with sharing, but I do need to let you know I tend to steal blankets,” Penelope says, placing her accessories in a small box.

“Yeah, I’m fine with anything.” JJ says.

You and Emily briefly lock eyes. If you said sleeping in the same bed as Emily didn’t sound amazing, you’d be a liar. She’d been distracting you from your work and almost all your thoughts for the last few weeks; something about her demeanor, or her dark, sharp features, or that streak of playfulness she lets show on occasion. Whatever it is, it continues to drive you up a wall.

“Well, if none of you care, I want the bed closer to the AC unit because it is a stupidly warm night here.” Penelope steps over to the bed on the right side of the room, unpacking a fuzzy blanket and an extra pillow — how did she fit that in there? — from her bag.

“True that. If you two don’t mind, I’ll sleep closer to the AC too.” JJ says, looking between the two of you before moving.

“Yeah, go ahead.” You say, just a little bit too happy. You tell Emily to go ahead and get comfortable because you’re going to change. She nods as you shut yourself in the bathroom.

You use the bathroom to take a moment, take a breath. Part of you wonders what it will be like, sleeping in the same bed as Emily. The rest of you wonders how you’re going to keep your cool.

You change into your sleep clothes, a tank top and small shorts. The cool air of the room makes the hair on your body stand up.

You walk back out to a dark, silent room. The only light left on was the one to the left of Emily.

“Ready for bed?” she asks.

“Yeah,” you say, climbing into bed and wrapping the soft covers around you. Emily clicks the light off and slides down in the bed.

Before you can even start relaxing, images of the day flash back into your mind. The things the unsub did to his victims. The distraught loved ones of the deceased. The endless papers, leading you to repeated dead ends.

It only feels like a few minutes, but over the course of time, you grow colder and more restless. You toss and turn, trying to get more comfortable, but to no avail. Sighing, you turn to check the time, trying to find an estimate of how much sleep you would get.

The clock reads 4:24. You start contemplating just waking up extra early, but before you can reach a conclusion, you hear a whisper.

“Hey, you alright?” Emily whispers, turning to face you.

You pause for a moment. How honest should you be?

“Yeah, just… cold,” you say.

Emily takes a moment. You think she’s going to get up to grab a blanket, or lend you a hoodie, or anything else, but she scoots over to where you are and wraps her warm arms around your body. She gives you a firm squeeze. You know she knows you’re not just cold.

She starts to move away like it was just a hug. Before you can make a better decision, your hands stop her.

“Do you want me to stay?” Emily whispers.

You nod. Even though the darkness, Emily understands. She moves back to you, tucking your head into her shoulder. She wraps her arms around your middle and pulls the blanket fully over you.

She smells like lotion and coffee and clean clothes. It’s addictive. You nuzzle your head deeper into her, earning a small laugh and her hand making its way into your hair. She runs her nails over your scalp, brushing the hair off your neck.

“Are you okay?” she asks. You just hum, making her laugh again. “Goodnight. Sleep well for me.”

And with her arms around you, hand in your hair, you drift off into a comforting sleep.

bonus — the next morning, you wake up to giggling, which is quickly hushed. the entire day you and emily are the victims of glances and hushed whispers. on the jet home, you finally decide to ask penelope what was up with it. she doesn’t verbally respond, just shows you a picture of you sleeping like a baby, tucked into emily’s chest. at that moment she comes over, smiles, and walks back to her seat.

[fangirl-dot-com]

Chapter 29 - Hydrate or Diedrate

this was a rollercoaster. so I wrote something for the Drive to Survive chapter before I even wrote this. So I based this off of what I already wrote and yeah, I got this. There is slight angst but nothing as extreme as I've done in the past!

Sorry for the wait! I love you all!

You hated it. 

The floaty feeling. 

The weightlessness that floating brought. 

The feeling of lack of control. 

Your legs wouldn’t move. Your arms were too heavy. Your head rested against the side of your car. Thoughts were muddles, sounds were far away. Your head felt as though it was stuffed with cotton. 

You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t see because of the sweat that saturated the inside of your helmet. 

You needed to get out. Get cooled off. Get your trophy. 

But the more you stayed in the seat, the better you felt. 

Oh, how sleep wanted to invade your mind. 

Just let go – it seemed to tell you. 

I’ll catch you – it promised. 

Give in – it demanded. 

Your eyelids blinked slowly as you tried to become just a bit aware of your surroundings. 

Where were you again? 

Oh, you were racing. 

What position? 

Second. 

Where was Max? 

Where was water? 

Where was…

It was all fading pretty fast. The lights hurt your head. The heat just clung to your body. Your arms felt as though someone tied weights to your wrists. Weights to your legs. 

There was suddenly pressure at your shoulder. Your body rocked back and forth, yet you had no strength to react further. The pressure deepened and you rocked harder. 

Where were you again? 

Oh, floating. 

Sleeping. 

Not breathing? 

That wasn’t it. It couldn’t be it. You needed to breathe to live silly. 

You knew that the noise around you got louder, but it was still so cloudy. Voices muddled together. You couldn’t tell where one voice started or where the other ended. 

Just let me sleep. 

So, that’s what you did. 

You’d be all right. 

Seems as though sleep won this time. 

Lando and Oscar watched in horror as Max’s facial features were wrought and pinched in worry. Like you, they couldn’t tell where the yells and screams started or where they ended. 

They hadn’t noticed at first. Too high strung on the race and race win to realize. They had smiles on their faces as Oscar won the race this year, as he had done the sprint last year. But this time it was a real race win. 

They congratulated the team, each other, their families who came to watch. Their smiles bright under the lights of Qatar. 

But the smiles dimmed as they watched Max strut up to your car. 

It was only then that they realized that you weren’t even out. What had it been? 2 minutes? 5 minutes? It shouldn’t have taken you that long to take the steering wheel off and get out. 

And then they watched Max rip his helmet off. They watched as he nudged your shoulder and your head weightlessly move side to side. 

The horror came next when the Dutchman started screaming at the team. Men and women jumped the little barriers and came running with medical supplies. Lando’s eyes wept as they had to haul your body out of the car. 

Oscar’s heart dropped when he realized that you weren’t moving. Right now, you were dead weight, just letting people finagle your body to how they saw fit. They watched as two men held you up by the arms, dragging you past everyone to hopefully somewhere you could be safe. 

When they were able to see your face, it gave them a haunted look. 

Your eyes were closed. Your mouth was hung open as your unconscious body tried to gulp in much needed air. They stepped forward, trying to see if their friend was ok. Yet, they were stopped by officials. Something about a podium? 

Oh, they had been racing. 

The race was over.

But you weren’t awake to see it.  

It finally broke through to them that they were still in the middle of the paddock. They could only nod numbly to questions being asked. The podium was no different. Oscar felt nothing as his anthem played. 

But how could he celebrate when you weren’t there. 

When you were supposed to be a papaya sandwich between them. 

When you were supposed to hold your trophy high. 

When you were supposed to be awake…and not sleeping. 

Max had followed the medical staff that was carefully hold you up as they walked. Both of his hands were full of helmet. He could feel the dampness of yours. It felt like someone had dunked it under the water before handing it to him. 

It wasn’t supposed to be this wet. 

Your physio had told him, told everyone, that you’d be much better than Singapore. That your diet finally brought your hydration levels up. That you were drinking proper amounts of water. 

That you shouldn’t be unconscious at this point. 

He watched as they propped you up. Something about getting blood to your heart. Max thought you should be lying down. Maybe then you’d look like you were really asleep. He knelt next to you when someone asked if he could hold you in that position. His knees would be sore, but it would be ok when you were ok. When your eyes were finally open. 

He watched your face and your eyelids flicker. 

Were you dreaming? 

The paramedics were quick to get cooling towels around your neck and head. One stuck an IV stuck in your arm. 

Ouch. 

Max wasn’t expecting your body to jerk so violently. His blue eyes quickly met yours when they opened suddenly. His hands steered your head so that you kept looking at him. Your mouth was once again dropped open as you tried to get precious air into your lungs. 

At the sight of your open eyes, more medics came over. They started to check your pupil dilation and then your blood pressure. Max could see that you were quickly becoming overwhelmed but his mouth stayed shut. 

They knew more about passed out drivers than he did. 

His heart rate skyrocketed once he saw your eyes start to flutter shut again. That’s when he knocked the hands away from your face and replaced them with his. 

As your eyes fluttered, the sounds were still jumbled in your mind. You just wanted to go back to sleep where it was quiet. The noises got louder, but it didn’t help your head. Hands poked and prodded at you, and all you wanted them to do was leave you alone. 

Yet, among the loud and the busy in your mind, you heard something soft. It was a voice. Kind, caring, quiet. 

You knew that voice. 

“Hey, you need to stay awake. Do not close your eyes.” 

Why did Max want you to stay awake? He knew how much you liked to sleep. You whined rather loudly, which drew a choked laugh from his lips. Max hadn’t realized that Charles had been there for a while. He also kneeled near and kept you steady. 

Charles knew a trick that worked with babies when they needed to steady their breathing. 

Max watched on as the Ferrari driver gently blew on your face. He wanted to comment, but kept his mouth shot when your eyes fluttered again, but struggled to stay open. But this time, it looked like you wanted to stay awake. 

Max kept talking to you. 

Told you about the race. 

“Kid, it was like you were flying.” 

“Oscar still kept P1, but you totally passed Lando.”

“Keep your eyes open kid. You can sleep later. Let me tell you about how Charles pushed me off.” 

You were finally conscious enough to understand what Max was saying. A squawk from Charles made you laugh a bit. Your lungs burned and protested, but you did it anyway. 

Max rested his head against the wall when you were finally moving around and talking to the medics. They finally deemed you strong enough to get you into a chair instead of the floor. The Dutchman was quick to keep the towels around your head soaking with ice cold water. Your race suit had been completely stripped away. Your shoes and socks were off as well, leaving you in thin fireproofs. Max took a longer towel and put it over your lap. 

A hand rested on Max’s shoulder, which caused him to look up. Christian stared back at him with a cold gaze. The blond knew what that meant. The Briton led Max a bit away so that he could talk to him in private. 

Max wanted to question him, but it seems as though Christian already knew what he wanted to say. 

“Next year we aren’t going to let you or Y/n drive if Qatar is back on the calendar.” 

Max was somber as he mulled over the statement. It was actually a good idea.

He replied, “I of course was fine with that. We should get the other teams to do it as well.” 

Christian nodded. 

“We had five retirements during the race. It was Sargeant, Zhou, Albon, Gasly, and Russell.” 

Max hadn’t known. He was too busy just trying to also stay conscious during the race. Yes, it was cooler than last year, but the cars seemed to get hotter as well. It was a fraction that couldn’t be balanced. 

Christian sighed. “Lance also had to be helped out of the car. He was taken to medical as well. Severe dehydration.” 

Max considered the protest. If everything went smoothly like this year, he could have already won the championship by now. He was still ahead of Charles. Abu Dhabi wouldn’t be a deciding factor. The Dutchman would have to finish in last place to lose. The margin was big enough. But, the race would be the deciding factor if you’d finish ahead of Charles in the championship. You’d have to win the race and get fastest lap. Charles would need to finish second with fastest lap to come out ahead of you. 

While he was thinking, two flashes of papaya orange almost ran into him. His head swerved to follow the two drivers as they sank to their knees in front of you, where you were still looking pretty exhausted. 

He said his goodbyes to Christian and walked over as well. Lando was latched rather tightly to your side as Oscar ran his hands over your face, double checking that you were still breathing. He hadn’t noticed that Arthur was now the one rewetting the towels on your body. Logan was sitting on the floor to your left.

He walked over and stood next to Charles. A smile made its way to his face at the sight of the younger drivers all taking care of you. His phone was buzzing like crazy. He pulled it out and made a face at all the missed text messages. The second grid group chat, one that not everyone was in, was blowing up. 

He sent a quick message telling everyone that you were ok and that they were allowed to come to your hotel room if you wanted to. 

Lewis said he was going to bring food with George. Daniel was on his way to get your room set up. The Aussie has seen heat exhaustion before and wanted to get the room cooling down before you even got there. Fernando messaged that he was going to get some cars ready to take them all back. He chose SUVs that had sufficient space for everyone. 

Max thanked them before closing his phone. 

When he saw your eyes flutter, his heart didn’t race. He knew that you had to be utterly exhausted by now. 

He stepped toward your physio and one of the medics. 

“Is she good to go?” he questioned, getting the attention of the two ladies. 

Your physio nodded. “She’s good. Just keep her cool and hydrated. Water and juice are preferred. Also, let her eat substantial things to get her weight back up. I know she likes McDonalds after races some times.” 

The lady smiled, remembering how many times you texted her asking if you could get chicken nuggets from your favorite fast food restaurant. After getting a list of things that they needed to do to make sure that you’d be just fine through the night, he walked back over to the group. Your eyes were very droopy as Lando talked to you about Quadrant’s latest drop of merchandise. 

He clapped his hands lightly, making everyone look his way. 

“Ok, so she is good to go. Fernando is waiting with the cars. Daniel went back to the room to cool it down and ask for extra pillows and blankets for anyone who wants to stay. Y/n you have to be monitored for the next 48 hours just in case. George is making Lewis buy chicken nuggets from McDonalds. And now we just have to get everything and head back.” 

Max could be a group leader when he wanted to be. 

Charles and Logan went back to your driver rooms to grab everything that you might need and or want. Lando and Oscar took it upon themselves to go around to the garages to let everyone know where they were going to be for the next couple of days. 

Arthur stayed with you while you had your IV removed, him letting you almost break his hand as it left your arm. You looked a bit nauseated at the sight, which made Max stand next to your seat to steady you. 

“Is it over?” you asked, voice hoarse from everything. Max thinks that’s the loudest you spoken since the race. 

Arthur gave a quick kiss to your head. “All over Cheri. You ready to go?” 

With a nod from you, the Monegasque crouched down to scoop you up. Your head rested against his chest as he and Max made the way to the car. 

“Max, can you ask Lewis to get me a sweet tea as well?” 

“On it kid.” 

Well, Max had already made sure that Lewis would get your favorite drink as well, along with fries and every type of sauce you could ever want. 

You hummed a thank you as you leaned your face against the cool window of the car. Fernando was in the front seat, classical music playing in the background. At that moment, you realized that your skin had goosebumps and you were shivering slightly. Your fire proofs were basically soaked and the air conditioning was cooling it down quickly. 

“Thur, do you have a hoodie or pull over?” 

The question made Max and Arthur raise an eyebrow. But the moment they saw you shaking like a leaf, they quickly looked for one. Logan pulled the passenger door open and sat in it. 

“Logan do you have a pull over or something?” Max asked once he realized that he nor Arthur had anything to cover you up. 

The American was silent as he leaned forward to dig through his back. 

“Aha!” 

Something fuzzy was put into your hands. Arthur noticed that your hands were still shaking and took the pullover from you. He immediately got it unraveled and put over your head, tugging down at the sides. A sigh escaped your lips as you relished in the warmth it brought. 

“Thanks Lo.” 

“No problem champ.” 

Arthur snorted. “So American.” 

Logan swerved around as Fernando started to pull away. 

“Well, no offense to Max, but Y/n is definitely going to be world champion one day. It’s only a matter of time.” 

Max shook his head. “No offense taken if we all think it.” 

“Thanks guys,” you muttered, head back against the window, eyes closed and close to sleep. Your boyfriend poked your arm, making you give him an astronomical side eye. He rolled his eyes at your glare. 

“You can sleep after you eat.” 

A grumble escaped your stomach, making everyone in the car laugh. 

“It wants chicken nuggets.” 

“Chicken nuggets is what it’ll get niña,” Fernando said from the front. The drive to the hotel was not long at all. This time, Arthur carried the stuff and Max carried you. Although, you did complain that you could have walked, but he didn’t want to take any chances. 

When the four of you got to your room, Daniel was ready with open arms to take you from Max. Daniel was always more cuddly anyway and you wanted to keep being warm. The room was pretty frigid but you liked the contrast of a cold room with a warm blanket. 

Lewis and George were in the little kitchenette pulling food out from the iconic brown bags. 

A shiver wracked your body which made you realize that you desperately needed to change.

“Arthur, can you grab my clothes from my suitcase? I want to change.” 

As the dutiful boyfriend, Arthur grabbed a pair of sweats, one of his pullovers, and the undergarments that you needed. He took you from Daniel and brought you into the bathroom for some privacy. You used the sink to keep steady as you stood. The Monegasque had a sad smile as he watched you try to use your legs that were shaking even more. 

You took one step and your knees collapsed. Thankfully, he was there to catch you. He cooed when you pouted once you were seated on the toilet. He was very respectful and kept his eyes on your face as he helped you change. You rolled your eyes. 

“You’ve seen me naked before,” you spoke quietly, not wanting anyone to overhear. 

This time, he rolled his eyes.

“Yes, but it was for something very different.” 

You could hear the smirk in his statement. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Race wins are very rewarding.” 

He gave you a quick kiss after he pulled the crewneck over your head. When the two of you finally emerged, the rest of the boys were already there and changed. Max and Charles were on the pullout eating what looked to be some burgers. 

Lewis was stabbing a salad as he talked to Daniel and Fernando. Your eyes lit up at the sight of the 20 piece nugget that was sitting on the counter. With Arthur’s help, you were able to take very small steps to get your own food. Lando and Oscar watched from the side as you got your hands on the container. Arthur then helped you over to the couch and sat you next to Max. He went to go get drinks and sat down on the other side of you. 

It was a Leclerc brother sandwich. 

You took a sip of your drink and grabbed the remote. 

“What are we watching.” 

Oscar piped up. “Please not Cars 2. And a pout won’t work this time.” 

“Certified Y/n-hater.” 

The Aussie laughed, but continued to let you pick a movie. 

You smirked as you selected one of your other favorites. 

“Black. All important movies start with a black screen.” 

“You did not choose Lego Batman.” 

“I chose Lego Batman.”   

mclaren has posted

mclaren congratulations to Oscar on his first win and to Lando for bringing in a 1-3! 🧡🐈

We are saddened to hear that Y/n L/n had to be transported to the on-site medical center tonight after severe heat exhaustion and could not make it to the podium. Thankfully, she is on the mend and will race in Abu Dhabi for the final Formula 1 race of the 2024 season.

liked by logansargeant, papaya_nation, oscAH, and 2,395,104 others

papaya_on_top OSCAR WIN - BUT Y/N I WAS CRYING

orange_bois i was so scared watching them haul her out of the car

y/n.89 can't get rid of me that easily 😤

landonorris dang it, thought I could get one more win in oscarpiastri don't listen to him, he was crying while he typed this landonorris YOU WERE TOO????

iamred_iamyellow oh gosh, I thought last year was bad

russellgeorge someone needs to get a protest started, this was too much

lanoscar proud of my boys, scared for everyone else

redbullracing has posted

redbullracing good P2 and P4 today 👊

Y/n L/n is currently recovering back at her hotel and will be monitored through the night. She has been cleared to race in Abu Dhabi if she continues to feel better. She was diagnosed with severe heat exhaustion that could have turned into a heat stroke if she wasn't treated immediately. Heatstroke is deadly if not treated immediately after the symptoms show up. We are thankful for Max, who alerted the team that something was wrong.

Because of this matter with our youngest driver, Red Bull Racing encourages the other teams to put in a protest of the Qatar Grand Prix. This year, five drivers had to retire due to health issues and two were hospitalized. Lance recovered quickly from severe dehydration. If the Qatar Grand Prix continues, our drivers will not race in 2025 at this circuit. Thank you.

liked by arthur_leclerc, y/n.89, maxverstappen1, lance_stroll, and 3,149,460 others

y/n.nation please, fans as well, start protesting and don't buy tickets for Qatar 2025. something is obviously wrong

formula_fan the cars are too hot for this circuit. they have no internal cooling and the drivers are so susceptible to the heat

y/n.89 thank you so much for taking care of me! I will be ready for Abu Dhabi!

redbullracing we missed seeing you on the podium 🥺 y/n.89 I'll be back!!

landonorris max is the man - what do we say?

charles_leclerc thank you max oscarpiastri is that how you thank the man that saved your future sister-in-law??? 🤨 charles_leclerc THANK YOU MAX 🥰😙🥹🫶 maxverstappen1 you're welcome Charles ☺️ charles_leclerc I will still punt you

rookie&co I'm thankful that Red Bull is taking the initiative about this

scuderiaferrari at ferrari, we put our drivers above everything else. we will be protesting along with Red Bull and whoever else and will not take part in the 2025 Qatar Grand Prix if it is still approved

williamsracing we will stand along with Red Bull and will not race at the 2025 Qatar Grand Prix if it continues mercedeamgf1 our drivers before the race, we stand as one. we will not partake in the 2025 Qatar Grand Prix mclaren after tonight, we see where priorities lie. we race as one. McLaren will not partake in the 2025 Qatar Grand Prix astonmartinf1 we race as one. we will be protesting the 2025 Qatar Grand Prix alpinef1team we will be joining the grid in the protest of the 2025 Qatar Grand Prix visacashapprb teams should never have to choose between a driver's health and a completed race. we will protest the 2025 Qatar Grand Prix haasf1team we will be participating in the Qatar 2025 protest for our drivers stakef1team our drivers will not be participating in the Qatar 2025 Grand Prix if it is held in the upcoming year

formula14ever the way that all the teams have gathered together after what happened with Y/n

wholesomef1 this comment section >>>>

seb&bees Sebastian would be so proud for all the teams and drivers standing up for this cause

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