#rip lewis' ears

[maxtermind]

Can I request some more angst 🫠🫠 I’m a sucker for your sad fics

tell me, why'd you have to hit-and-run me?

★ : summary :: finding out your boyfriend was dared to date you ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: ANGST; no hea ★ : word count :: 4k+ ★ : a/n :: how are we feeling with the daily posts ending tom and shifting to alternate day posting🤭 babe you asked for angst and i delivered, lmk how you like it <3 bet y'all thought you needed tissues for something else😏

Max Verstappen

“Mate, you still haven’t told her?” you heard Lando whisper, making your eyebrows shoot up. What were they talking about? As you finally decided to approach your boyfriend and his friend, you heard Max whisper.

It was low, so low that you almost didn’t catch it, but the way your hand froze on the knob and the utter stillness of your heartbeat indicated that you heard him loud and clear when he slowly said, “I don’t know how to.”

That. That was the reason you froze. You were processing what you heard. Your heart pulled from its rightful place—no, it was ripped out.

God, you thought, anything but that. Anything but cheating because how could you even confront him if he confessed to cheating on you right there on the spot in front of one of his friends?

“It has been going on for too long, Max.” Lando took a deep breath. “You should tell her you love her; she’ll understand.”

Ah. Okay, he loves you; this was okay. But then why was your heart still beating so loudly that you could hear it in your ears?

“How do you think I should go about it?” Max asked, and that was when you finally had enough. You turned the knob, but Lando was already speaking, and his words had you freeze again.

The boys' heads snapped up, eyes wide when they saw you walk in. You felt your eyes burn as Lando’s last words finally processed.

“You should’ve thought about it before you decided to make a stupid bet with those dumb men.”

“Bet?” you wondered aloud as you saw Max stumble over to you. What bet?

“No bet!” you heard your panicked boyfriend almost scream. You were so confused you didn’t even know what you were saying out loud.

“For fuck’s sake,” Lando said as he stood from the couch, glaring at Max. “Y/N deserves to know.” You kept your eyes on Max, trying to gauge an explanation from his clearly messed-up state.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” you finally looked at your boyfriend’s best friend. “I clearly shouldn’t have trusted Max to—”

“I think you should leave,” Max groaned out as if it pained him to hear Lando talk, almost hissing out the last word. They started bickering back and forth, and through your hazy mind, you could only make out a few words.

But they were enough. You took a deep breath as you stepped away from Max towards the door. He was too busy focusing on Lando anyway.

“Y.. you’re saying I was a bet?” Your voice cut through the chaos, and it was Max’s turn to go dead silent and freeze on the spot.

“You asked me ou—” Oh god, you didn’t want to cry, “—because of a dare?”

Max’s eyes were wide with horror, his face pale as he took a step toward you, his hands reaching out in desperation. “No, Y/N, it’s not like that, please, let me explain.”

You shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks uncontrollably. “Explain what, Max?” Your voice cracked on the last word, the pain too raw to hold back when you saw Max was also crying. “How a…all i have be— this relationship has been is a fucking lie?” The moment you said it out loud, you heard Lando take in a sharp breath. Max looked disheveled, he could just tell that this was the only time he could repair this. You looked a minute away from walking out and the thought of that had him talking even through his closed up throat.

His voice broke, choked with emotion. “No, Y/N, I swear, it wasn’t like that. It started as a stupid dare, yes, but then... then I fell in love with you. I fell so hard, it—” His words stumbled over each other, barely coherent through his tears. “I called the whole thing off.”

You cut him off, your voice trembling and thick with hurt. “You should have told me right then. As soon as you called it off, you sho—” Your body shook, barely able to stand under the weight of your heartbreak. “How could you do this to m.. me?”

Max rushed forward to hold your hands, breathing heavily to get himself under control so he could talk as he sobbed. “I was so fucking scared, Y/N. I didn’t want to lose you. You mean everything to me.”

You looked down at your joined hands, feeling your heart shatter all over again. It was one thing to know someone’s apology was sincere and another to know that they had faked being sincere from the very beginning. So how could you even tell the difference now? Your voice came out in a broken whisper. “How can I trust you now? How can I believe anything you say?” You were almost gasping for breath, each word an effort as you tried to hold back the sobs wracking your body.

Lando’s voice was soft but firm from behind you, though his own eyes were hard. “He’s telling the truth, Y/N. He was an idiot, but he’s been head over heels for you for a long time.”

Max’s tear-streaked face looked up at you, his eyes pleading. “Please, Y/N. I’ll do anything to make it up to you. Anything. Just... don’t leave me.” His voice broke, the last word coming out as a wail of despair.

You turned away, unable to bear the sight of him, your voice barely above a whisper but laced with raw agony. “I can’t be here.” You could barely see through your tears, your entire body trembling.

Max’s anguished sobs followed you as you walked away, your heart feeling like it was being torn from your chest with every step. The pain was unbearable, and you stumbled, nearly collapsing under the weight of your sorrow but Lando caught you as he held you by your shoulders.

You needed to be alone, to process everything, and to decide if love could truly overcome betrayal. But right now, it felt like your world was ending.

Lewis Hamilton

“Y/N, baby please—”

Lewis’s voice pleaded as you shut the door behind, your heart splintering into a thousand pieces. Tears blurred your vision as you staggered away from your apartment, the weight of betrayal crushing your chest.

To think that you used to gush about him, about this, the vague lie you had to others. Not even a few steps away from your apartment, you were bent over, retching into a nearby dustbin.

How could luck be so cruel? How could you have been so blind?

You wandered the streets, tears falling down your cheeks as your brain replayed the moments when Lewis first approached you at a random club party, despite your friends warning you that someone like him must have nefarious reasons. But you were smitten.

“I’m sorry, but I don't know what you’re doing here,” you had said to him, feeling your heart beat faster when a smirk adorned his face in return. He looked majestic under the club lights. “Where else would I be?” he muttered, mesmerized as he looked at you, “If not with the most beautiful girl in this club?”

He made you feel special, validated in a way you had never felt before. Now, the memory turned sour in your mind, leaving you feeling sick and disgusted. You dry heaved again.

At least he had the decency to confess. Standing here in the cold, his words from when he sat you down with him echoed in your ears— his pleading, his apologies, his desperate attempts to explain. But what did it matter now?

“How could you?” you whispered, thump! thump! thump! your heart pumped as you heard it in your ears, your voice barely audible through the tears streaming down your cheeks. “Was I just a game to you?” That was the first thing you said after his almost ten-minute rant.

You had stopped listening though, right when he had told you what exactly made him approach you. Your first meeting was so magical, so precious to you, but it was all ruined now.

His friend had dared him because Lewis’ morale was down. He was having the worst day of his life after losing an almost sure race win, and his friends knew the only way to cheer him up was through a challenge.

Lewis reached out when he saw that you were lost in your thoughts, his voice desperate and shaky. “No, Y/N, please listen to me—”

You shook your head, cutting him off. “Don’t. Just don’t…”

“Please,” he pleaded, looking nothing like the man you loved, his voice cracking with emotion. “I love you, Y/N. I messed up, but I love you more than anything.”

You felt your heart breaking all over again because you genuinely couldn’t recognize the man standing in front of you— the man who had played you, was probably still playing you. “You should have thought about that before…”

Unable to bear another moment, you left, leaving his words hanging in the air like a dark cloud. You were nothing more than a pawn in his game of masculine pride and insecurity. The realization hit you like a freight train, leaving you gasping for air as you collapsed against a nearby wall, sobs wracking your body.

How could someone who once made you feel so alive now leave you feeling so broken?

Carlos Sainz

The evening was warm, and the restaurant buzzed with laughter and conversation. You sat with your boyfriend, Carlos, his friends, and a few of your own. It was a casual dinner, the kind you rarely held since Carlos was so busy.

“I can't believe we wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t dared Carlos to ask you out,” Javier chuckled as he saw you lean forward to kiss your boyfriend.

Laughter erupted around the table but quickly died down when they realized the utter horror on your face. An uncomfortable silence settled in, and you noticed the tension.

Your wide eyes moved from one face to another, finally landing on Carlos, whose expression had turned serious. He glared at Javier, and you sensed something was wrong. You felt uncomfortable, and the need to flee clutched you.

“What do you mean?” you asked, your voice small yet cutting through the awkwardness as you held Carlos’ hand under the table. He squeezed it in return.

“Uh, nothing,” Javier stammered, realizing his mistake. His discomfort was evident, triggering your fight-or-flight response.

You turned to Carlos. “What’s going on?” Your voice held a very tiny hope, hoping this was all a prank that would be over soon.

He sighed as he squeezed your hand again, his frustration evident. “We should talk about this at home.”

You pulled your hand away from his, your confusion and hurt growing. The others at the table exchanged looks of pity, further igniting your anger.

“No, we’re talking about it here. What’s going on?” you demanded as a shaky breath left your lips.

Carlos looked around nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t want to tell you like this.” He stopped himself again.

“Tell me what?” Your voice grew louder, drawing the attention of nearby diners.

Before he could respond, one of your friends, Beatrice, chimed in, “Just tell her, for God’s sake!” You looked at her in solitude, glad that you had some kind of support here.

“I dared Carlos to ask you out as a joke!” Javier blurted out just as you were managing to form a small smile to pass to your friend.

Your heart pounded in your chest. “What?” The chair creaked under you as you pushed it away from the table, and your boyfriend held your hand again.

“Please, it wasn’t like that,” Carlos tried to calm you down, but he was panicking himself. He was still whispering that you could not feel anything else in the world anymore. That was enough evidence.

You stood up, knocking your chair over as you once again snatched your hand away from his. “Wasn’t like what? You made me believe this was fucking real!”

Other diners began to whisper and pull out their phones, recording the scene as he stood up as well. With a desperate look, Carlos reached out to you, but you stepped back.

“This whole time, I was just a fucking… dare to you?” you shouted.

People around the restaurant started filming, their phones pointed at the escalating scene. Carlos's anger boiled over. He grabbed a nearby phone and smashed it against the table. The room fell silent, shocked gasps filling the air.

“Carlos, stop!” One of his friends tried to pull him back.

“You all think this is funny?” Carlos yelled at the onlookers, distracted now, and you knew what you were going to do as he turned around to yell again. “Get your own fucking life!”

You stood up, tears streaming down your face. “I’m done with this,” you said, your voice breaking. You were already walking away when you felt your friend follow you.

As you left the restaurant, you could hear the whispers and see the flashes of cameras. You knew this would go viral, but at that moment, you didn’t care. Your heart ached with betrayal and anger.

Carlos realized a bit too late that you were gone. Frustrated, he ran out to catch up with you and tried to call you again and again.He didn't know at the time that he would never catch a hold of you after this.

Charles Leclerc

You were scrolling through social media when a notification from an unknown sender caught your attention. Despite knowing that you shouldn’t, curiosity got the better of you, and you clicked on the thumbnail showing your boyfriend at a party.

The video started playing. It was from months ago, showing Charles in an outfit that you recognized but couldn’t remember from where. Ethan's voice could be heard clearly over the music. “I dare you to ask that girl out,” Ethan said, laughing, but you still couldn’t tell who he was pointing at. “Bet you can't do it.”

Charles grinned, looking a little tipsy. “You're on,” he replied, to the cheers and jeers of his friends. The grainy video ended with Charles approaching you. A deafening silence enveloped you when you realized this was from the day you first met him.

Charles had a determined look on his face, but the video faded into the background. Your thoughts echoed painfully in the emptiness, the truth of your lover's betrayal reverberating within you.

Your heart sank further as you sat in silence to process. You felt a rush of emotions— betrayal, hurt, and anger. Tears welled up in your eyes as you replayed the video, hoping it was some sort of sick joke. But the evidence was right there, undeniable.

At that moment, the door to the apartment opened, and Charles walked in, a smile on his face. “Hey, love. What are you up to?” he asked, not noticing your distress at first.

You turned to him, your eyes brimming with tears. “What is this?” you demanded, holding up your phone with the video paused at the damning moment.

Charles's smile faded instantly, replaced by a look of horror. “Baby, how did you—” he started, stepping towards you as he felt the room spin a bit, all the blood rushing to his head.

“Does it matter?” you snapped, your voice shaking with anger as tears gathered under your eyes. “When you only even looked at me because of a stupid bet?”

“It started as a bet, yes,” Charles admitted, his voice pained. “But it's not like that now. I fell in love with you, Y/N. Everything we've had since then has been real.” He was quickly getting closer to you, but you flinched away and that stopped him dead in his tracks.

You shook your head, unable to believe what you were hearing. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” You were so angry, your ears so warm that it wouldn’t be impossible if smoke started coming out of them.

Charles reached out, but you stepped back once again. “Please, Y/N. I was an idiot. I shouldn't have agreed to that dare, but I did. And yes, that's how it started. But the moment I got to know you, everything changed. I love you more than anything.”

“Do you have any idea just how humiliating this is?” you shouted, your voice breaking. “I thought what we had was special. I thought it was real. And now I find out it was all… a gamble to you.” You hated that you were showing him so many emotions but fuck, it hurt so much and you wish you could hurt him back.

“It is not a gamble,” Charles pleaded, tears forming in his eyes. “Not after I got to know you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. Please, don't let this ruin us.” He could actually feel you slipping through his fingers.

“Fuck you, you’re the one who ruined this!” you said, turning away, trying to gather your thoughts, willing yourself to leave and hating yourself when you couldn’t. “Seriously,” you said quietly, not looking at him. “Fuck you.” You laid emphasis to show that you actually meant the words. “You’ve ruined me”

“Baby,” Charles's voice broke when he heard you say that he ruined you, but the way you glared at him because of the nickname had him backtracking. “Y/N, please just let me show you how that was all a lie. I love you. I can't fucking lose you over this.”

You walked to the door, needing to escape the suffocating atmosphere. “It is still all a lie,” you declared in a voice that showed you were shutting down, barely above a whisper.

As you stepped out of the apartment, you heard Charles crying behind you, but you didn’t stop to mend his heart because you couldn't even feel yours in your chest.

Lando Norris

Lando’s phone buzzed with notifications as he stepped out of the room and you glanced at it absentmindedly, not intending to invade his privacy. But the screen lit up with messages from his friends’ group chat, and the first few lines caught your eye, seeing your name in them.

“Can’t believe Lando actually went through with it.” “I know, right? It’s hilarious that she still doesn’t know!”

Your heart sank as you read further, each message a dagger to your trust. They were discussing you— about Lando making a bet involving you. Your hands trembled, and you scrolled through the conversation, your worst fears unfolding before your eyes.

“Thought he’d be gloating but he hasn’t contacted at all.” “Shit, man, he’s been with her for a year. I'm not paying him that much!”

You felt sick to your stomach. The room spun around you as you struggled to comprehend the magnitude of the betrayal. All those times you believed in Lando, trusted him with your heart— were they all just part of a cruel scheme? A fucking game?

You heard Lando approaching, unaware that you had seen everything. His smile faded as he saw the look on your face, the phone still clutched tightly in your hand.

“What’s wrong?” he asked cautiously, sensing the tension in the air as he approached you with wide eyes.

This has happened before. Lando was always scared of coming home and finding it empty because you had found out about something he was afraid to tell you but in the past he was always wrong. It was a show, a friend, a book making you cry but today was different.

You held up the phone, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. “Care to explain this?”

Lando’s expression shifted from confusion to dread as he realized what had just happened. He opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off with a bitter laugh.

“Fuck, you really had me convinced!” Your voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a knife. “You made a bet? How much have you made so far, Mr. Norris?”

“Don't say that,” Lando looked like you had slapped him across his face. He reached out to you, his face pleading for forgiveness. “Y/N, I swear it wasn’t like that—”

“How much was it?” you demanded, the words laced with bitterness. “Bet you made a lot the day you finally got laid, huh?” “No!” Your boyfrie— ex-boyfriend screamed. His eyes were carrying moisture and you couldn’t help but scoff but he carried on. “I never took a single penny, Y/N. I.. I promise, I hadn’t even talked to them since the day i realized what assholes they were and—”

Lando’s face fell, his words faltering as he rushed forward to catch you in his arms, his tears finally falling once he saw your wet face. But the truth hung heavy in the silence between you, suffocating any hope of reconciliation.

Tears fell down your cheeks onto his arm as he kissed your head and whispered sweet nothings and sorry, I’m so sorry so so sorry sorry sorry, again and again against your head, blurring your vision. “I trusted you,” you whispered, voice breaking. “I loved you.”

The weight of it all settled on you, and you sank deeper into the couch, overwhelmed by the betrayal. The anger that fueled you moments ago now gave way to a deep, searing pain. How could he have done this to you?

Lando kneeled down before you, his own tears betraying the magnitude of his mistake. “I’m sorry,” he choked out, reaching for you. “I never meant for you to find out.”

He carried on but your ears started ringing when the words registered. Wouldn’t a person with nothing to be guilty about, accept the truth and make up? Why was he so hell bent on keeping it under a hush?

His words felt hollow, empty promises in the wake of his betrayal and you cut him off as you pushed him away from you . “Get out,” you managed to say, your voice hoarse.

Lando hesitated, torn between wanting to explain and knowing that no explanation would mend what was broken. “Please,” you whispered and it was so small, so scared that he got up immediately and nodded.

He kissed your head again and you let him linger as you closed your eyes,“I.. I’ll be back, baby.” With a final, agonized look at you, he turned and left, leaving you alone in the wreckage of your shattered trust.

The silence enveloped you, broken only by your ragged breaths and the echoes of his footsteps fading away. You hugged yourself tightly, trying to hold together the pieces of your heart that he had callously shattered.

As the tears continued to fall, you felt a different kind of ache—the ache of knowing that the love you had believed in was now a painful memory because yes, he was coming back but you wouldn’t be here.

Later, Lando would enter the house in hopes of finding you but just like his worst nightmare, you wouldn’t be there. You wouldn’t be there to hold him as he’ll slowly lose it running across the house while he’ll look for you. None of your things would be there.

Yes, he destroyed you but also himself.

( writing masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

[motorsportbarbie13]

What's A Soulmate? - Part 2

In which you accidentally spend an extra year traveling the globe.

Warnings: Heavy on the mutual pining. JFC you two are down bad for each other. Pairing: Lando Norris x SainzSister!Reader Word count: 3.3k words

Part 1

Master List

July 2020

Austria 

“He’s 5 seconds ahead, Mr. Norris. Oh my God, he’s 5 seconds ahead of Lewis!” You murmur, hands clutching at the elbow of Lando’s dad as the Austrian Grand Prix winds down. 

“He’s got this, our boy is going to get his first podium of his career.” The pride and confidence in Adam’s voice sends a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill over. 

Somehow, your one year stint as your brother’s personal assistant had turned into two when you realized you had fallen in love with the world that you had found yourself in. Carlos had been resistant at first, wanting you to go back to university to get your degree but after a year on the road, you simply hadn’t figured out what it was you wanted to do. 

In the end, it had been Lando who had been the one to convince Carlos to agree to one more year traveling with them. University would always be there, he reasoned, and what was the use in sending you away if you didn’t even have an idea of what you wanted to do? Wouldn’t the real world experience you got working with elite athletes all over the world count for something when it was time to settle down and get a real job? 

In truth, Lando just hadn’t wanted to lose you. In the year that you had been in his life, the friendship that had blossomed between the two of you was one of Lando’s most important and meaningful relationships that he’d ever had. You could look at Lando and tell that something was off just by a singular tick of his jaw muscle. He could look at you and tell that you were losing your patience at his antics by the way your shoulders bunched up by your ears at the end of the day. So it had been completely selfish when Lando had gone to bat for you, simply because he didn’t want his best friend to leave his side. 

It had worked and Carlos had agreed, also not really wanting to lose you as such a fixture in his life as well. You and your brother worked together so well, you anticipating his needs before they were even a thought in his head. If he had his way, you’d spend the rest of your career managing his but he knew your parents would never go for it. 

Now, here in Austria, your best friend was one single lap away from landing his first F1 podium. Carlos was running in 5th and the energy in the McLaren garage was simply electric. The mechanics and engineers were all on their feet, waiting for the stewards to give the okay for them to run out to pit lane. You were tucked back in the garage standing next to Lando’s dad, who had traveled to Austria this weekend to see his son’s race. 

The checkered flag waves and tears stream down your face you’re so proud of both of your boys. P3 for Lando, P5 for your brother. Lando’s first podium of his career. The enormity of the moment washes over you as you follow Adam out into the pit lane. You watch through misty eyes as Lando pulls his car into parc ferme behind the little cardboard 3 sign. The pride that swells in your chest threatens to overtake any and all other feeling it’s so significant and strong. 

Here was the boy that you had spent countless nights consoling after DNFs and poor finishes, leaping out of the car after putting his car on the podium. You follow Lando’s dad over to the barricades, waiting patiently for Lando to get out of the car. His helmet is ripped off in record time as Lando’s eyes search for his team. The entire McLaren garage is there, waiting to celebrate this career best finish with him. Your stomach digs into the metal barricade, the cold steel biting into your bare skin, as you lean forward to catch a better glimpse of your sweaty best friend. 

The way your heart tumbles down to your toes when his gaze finds yours sends heat rushing to your cheeks. 

“We did it!” Lando crows, throwing his arms around his team. 

Adam is next and fresh tears roll down your cheeks at the tender hug that is exchanged between father and son. You’ve spent quite a bit of time with Adam and Lando this weekend and the bond that they share is something that is so special, it’s a blessing to watch. 

And then its your turn. The shy smile that flits across your face feels out of place in front of the boy that has your entire heart. “I’m so proud of you.” You murmur, eyes shining up at him, when his arms snake around your neck as he pulls you into a sticky hug. 

“Thank you.” He whispers back, lips dusting over your cheek in a very non platonic way that has your heart skittering into your throat. “I couldn’t have done it without you, pretty girl.” 

It’s just a quick moment between friends and it’s over before it really means anything to anyone else besides you and Lando but that moment after his first podium is something that you’ll hold on to for years to come. He’s your best friend and nothing more, you try to remind yourself as you watch him complete the rest of his post-race duties. Of course you were proud of him, that wasn’t weird to say. The hug that you shared, the quick peck on the cheek, both were the actions of two people that were practically inseparable but nothing more than friends. 

Lando never takes his eyes off of you the entire podium celebration. 

Italy

September, 2020 

“There is absolutely no fucking way I am getting on the back of that thing with you, Norris.” You stand just outside the McLaren motorhome, hands on your hips, staring at Lando like he’s gone completely insane. 

“Oh come on.” He groans, rolling his eyes. “Don’t be such a baby. The fan stage is like a million miles away and we’re going to be late.” 

You stared at the electric scooter, one of twenty that had been gifts from Lando’s dad from his new company that had just launched. It was big enough to fit the both of you and was certainly fast enough to get you across the paddock to the fan stage in plenty of time but the idea of you zipping around with Lando Norris of all people piloting the electric scooter had anxiety settling deep in your stomach. 

“This is not going to end well.” You grumble. “If you break me, Carlos is going to be very unhappy.” 

Lando turns on that megawatt smile he’s known for, aiming it’s full strength right at you, something that you are utterly unable to protect yourself from. “You know I would never hurt you, pretty girl.” He coos, using that nickname that he’s grown so fond of lately. 

Which is a problem because you two are supposed to be strictly friends. You knew Lando was a flirt, had seen it in action so many times in the clubs on unsuspecting girls that you had lost count but he never seemed to turn on the charm with you like he did the other girls. Which was totally fine with you because there was no way you would want to get involved with someone you worked so closely with. Despite your close friendship, there was always an element of a professional boundary that you didn’t really want to cross. And Lando seemed like he didn’t want to cross it either. 

So, you ignored the swooping stomachs and toothy grins that he aimed your way, telling yourself that it was just because he was your best friend and saw you as the same. Even if he had tried to pursue something, it would have been a bad idea. You couldn’t imagine what you would do without Lando in your life and if a romantic relationship went south between you two, well…that simply wasn’t an option and you would’t even consider the fall out. It made you too anxious. 

Throwing your hands up in defeat, you approach the scooter somewhat apprehensively, not missing the way Lando’s grin grew about five sizes when he realized he had won the argument. But he wasn’t just happy that he had won the argument, he was ecstatic that you would now have an excuse to touch him, something that he lived for like a man starved. You never put a toe out of line when it came to your working relationship and Lando tried his best to respect that, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable in any way. Carlos would have his head and his balls if he ever made his baby sister feel any other way than safe but more than that, he valued your friendship more than anything else. If you wanted to maintain a strict platonic relationship, that was what Lando was going to accept. 

Lando is up on the scooter first, one foot braced on the pavement as you gingerly take one step and then another onto the back plank of the machine. Your fingers grip at his waist as you struggle to find your balance. “There you go.” Lando says, kicking off the pavement while engaging the little throttle on the handlebars. “Just hold on, I’ve got you.” 

You hate to admit it, but Lando was right: this thing was fun. You two rocket through the paddock, picking your way carefully though the late afternoon crowd. Your arms are tight around his waist as you lean into his strong frame, your safety utterly dependent on the man in front of you. 

Lando nearly bins it into Red Bull’s motorhome when you rest your chin on his shoulder, he’s so distracted. The sound of your laughter in his ear combined with the way the tips of your fingers grip at the waistband of his jeans send his senses into overload. 

“I hate to admit it, Norris but I think you were right.” You laugh, the whisper of your breath sending a shudder down Lando’s spine. “This thing is kind of fun. Do you think your dad would give me one too?” 

Not if Lando had anything to say about it because as far as he was concerned, riding through the paddock on the back of his, arms clinging desperately to his body,  was the only way you’d be getting around on one ever again. 

October 2020 

Portugal 

The pulse of the music in the club thrums through you, the alcohol you’ve consumed tonight blurring the edges of your vision in the most comforting way. You’ve been in Portugal for less than 24 hours and you already are in love with the country, having arrived ahead of media day tomorrow. 

From your spot on the couches in the VIP section, you watch as Lando approaches, your drink in one hand and his in the other. He had convinced you to come out with a few of the drivers tonight, using the fact that there had been a two week break before this race that you had spent in Spain while he had been in England. It hadn’t taken much to convince you as you had missed Lando during the break, even though you’d never admit as much. 

“Thank you, Lan!” You shout over the music when Lando hands you the glass full of vodka and sprite. 

“Anytime, pretty girl.” Lando says, slipping into the booth next to you. 

The burn of the alcohol slips down your throat as you listen to Charles prattle on beside you about something, focus really on the way Lando’s arm is pressed into your bare one. You had spent the entire break desperate for a break from his presence, the way he consumed most of your thoughts was starting to border on obsessive and you had thought you had done a good job of getting him out of your system. 

It only took 3 vodka and sprites for you to realize how wrong you were. This silly little crush had to stop though, you knew that. And if Lando had been aware of your feelings, he probably would have told you the same. He was always flirting with pretty models in the club, enjoying his status as a rich, single, professional athlete. There was no way he’d want to tie himself down to one girl, especially not to someone he probably saw as more of a sister than anything even remotely romantic. 

So you took what you could get: his friendship and basking in any and all attention he gave you. You tried to tell yourself that the sudden attention Charles was showing you tonight was a good thing, that you needed to find a distraction to get your mind off of the one person that seemed to wholly consume your every thought. 

“Do you want to dance, amor?” Charles murmurs in your ear, fully aware that your brother is sitting less than 20 feet away, watching the exchange with daggers shooting out of his eyes. 

Next year, Carlos was leaving McLaren and joining Ferrari but if he kept hitting on his little sister like he was, Charles was going to have some issues with his new teammate. 

Grasping at the opportunity to get away from Lando and the model that had appeared out of thin air that was sitting pretty on his lap, you practically leap up out of the booth, following Charles out onto the dance floor. The music pulses sensually around you as Charles brings his hands onto your hips, swaying to the music. With your drink in had, you attempt to lose yourself in the music and the feeling of Charles’ hands on your body, ignoring the fact that it isn’t working. 

From his spot at the table, Lando grips his drink so hard he’s surprised the glass doesn’t shatter. The moment you had gotten up from the booth with Charles, he had practically dismissed the girl that had been trying to stick her tongue down his throat in favor of watching you dance instead. 

“Everything okay there, Lando?” George asks as he takes the place vacated when Charles and you vacated the booth. “You look a little annoyed.” 

Lando shoots his friend a withering look before allowing his gaze to find you and Charles again. “‘M fine.” He grumbles. 

“Why don’t you just tell her how you feel?” 

Lando swings his head to look at George like he has three heads. “What are you talking about, mate?” 

“I see the way you look at her. Everyone does. You two are the worst kept secret on the grid.” 

Lando sets his drink down without taking his eyes off of you. “She’s just a friend and my teammates sister. Do you see the way Carlos is glaring at Charles? That would be me on the receiving end of that. No fucking way.” 

George just raises an eyebrow at Lando’s protest. “Whatever you say mate.” 

December 2020 

Bahrain 

“Lan, can we talk?” You ask, hands wringing together in front of you. 

The harsh lights above you light up the paddock, bathing the darkened desert in a fluorescent glow. You’d been looking for Lando for almost thirty minutes now, somehow losing him after qualifying had concluded an hour before. 

Lando instantly clocks the anxiety in your entire body as he exits out of McLaren’s hospitality building, brows knitting together as he approaches you. 

“Of course we can. Everything okay?” His heart thumps against his chest at the look of worry playing on your face. He doesn’t miss the way you worry at your lip before you answer him. 

“I just…we need to talk.” 

Lando grabs your hand, leading you away from the crowd. Even though the activities for the day have concluded, there are still so many people in the paddock and you know this isn’t the ideal place to have this conversation but you know if you don’t have it now, you’ll chicken out. Again. 

Lando leads you towards pit lane, knowing that most of the crowds have moved on from the garages and that you’ll find a quiet spot there. The silence that settles between you is not wholly unusual but tonight it feels different. Heavy almost. Lando can feel the bad news coming from a mile away and he suddenly just wants time to stop. Whatever you’re about to tell him is going to be bad, he can feel it deep in his bones. 

He finds a bit of pit lane that is deserted, save for a few mechanics chatting away after wrapping up their duties. “You’re making me nervous.” Lando admits as you hop up onto the low wall.

Lando steps between your legs, settling his hands on your hips as he looks up at you. This show of affection isn’t unusual between the two of you but truth be told having him touching you tonight makes what you have to tell him a bit harder. 

The words you have to tell him die in your throat as you lose yourself in his eyes for a moment. They’re darker blue gray tonight, the star filled night sky above making them seem like the ocean right before a storm. Which you supposed was appropriate for what you had to say now. 

“I’m not coming back next season.” You whisper. 

The words hit Lando like a physical blow. “What?” He stutters, fingers digging into the flesh at your hips almost painfully. 

Tears threaten to spill at the heartbreak in your best friend's eyes. “All this time spent with you and Carlos these past two years has changed me, given me so much purpose and direction and it’s time I move onto the next step.” 

Next step? Move on? Lando’s breath caught in his throat. You couldn’t move on from this. From him. He couldn’t lose you, his best friend in the entire world. You couldn’t leave him. His vision blurs a bit at the news and he’s forced to close his eyes for a moment. Panic races through him, bitter and quick like a snakebite. 

“What does that mean?” He grits out, the question coming out more harshly than he intends. 

“I’m going to study public relations in New York City in January.” Your voice is small in response to his obvious anger. 

Lando’s entire world tilts beneath his feet. 

“New York City?” He breathes, eyes shuttering closed to hide from you. 

You nod, a single tear slipping down your cheek at the absolute devastation on Lando’s face. You reach up to cradle his face in your hands, needing to touch him right now. “I won’t be gone forever and I’ll be at every race during the summer and all of the North American ones, I promise. It won’t be that bad.” The words tumble from your lips and you’re not entirely sure who you’re trying to convince that it’ll be okay. 

Lando’s face crumples as he leans forward, burying his head in the crook of your neck. He wants to ask you to stay. He wants to beg you not to leave him, that he needs you and doesn’t know how he’s going to function without your content presence. He knows he can’t though, he can’t say a single thing. He never would ask that of you because he knows you’d do it in a heart beat. He knows you’d change all of your plans for him if he told you how he felt. How he’s truly felt for damn near two years now. No, your friendship is too precious and your future is too important for him to tell you how head over heels in love he is with you. 

So, he keeps quiet and says the most soul crushingly thing he’s ever had to tell you. “I’m going to miss you so fucking much, pretty girl.” 

Tag List: @anilovessadbooks, @shelbyteller, @formulaal, @martygraciesversion381, @longhairkoo, @samantha-chicago, @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland, @chlmtfilms , @inarabee @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @charlesgirl16 @lieutenantchaos

[hoe4hotchner]

You left me behind, and now I see you everywhere | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU!fem!Reader | WC: 11.6k  | CW: MDNI, 18+, emotional distress, heartbreak, angst, unresolved feelings, grief, heated argument, anger, smut, piv, wrap it before you tap it, it's office sex, heated kiss, dirty talk, kind of rough sex, general case talk, mention of mr. Scratch (if that's even a warning, maybe some of y'all have trauma ;))

Summary:  After years apart, following Hotch’s departure into witness protection and his decision to run for Congress, you're forced to confront unresolved feelings when you meet again. Tension builds as you navigate your emotional fallout, leading to a passionate confrontation and a second chance at love.

A/N: Worldwide by Big time rush started playing from my playlist as I reached the last scene to edit…. I had to stop myself from crying cause that song fits so well for some reason.

Peter Lewis was dead. Mr. Scratch was finally gone. With him out of the picture, Aaron could come back. That had been your one glimmer of hope through all the sleepless nights and endless waiting — knowing that once Lewis was no longer a threat, the man you loved would return. No more running, no more hiding. Hotch and Jack would finally be safe.

You clung to that thought like a lifeline, repeating it to yourself over and over again: He can come back now. He’ll come back to me. He'll come home.

The rumors had reached your ears days before Rossi called the meeting. Hotch was out of witness protection. Finally free to do what he wanted, to reach out again. Your heart soared at the news, desperate for it to be true. You had tried to keep your emotions in check, to remind yourself that things weren’t that simple, that there were procedures he had to go through before he could come home. But still, the idea of him walking through those doors — or knocking on your door — returning to his place at the BAU, and — most importantly — returning to you, was the only thing that kept you from breaking completely during his absence. It was the only reason why you had been able to keep your composure.

Now, as you stood in the conference room, your arms wrapped tightly around your torso, you tried to calm the rapid beating of your heart. The relief of knowing Peter Lewis was gone should have been enough. It should have been enough.

They'll be safe.

Rossi took his place at the front, his demeanor was serious, a subtle weight to his usually warm expression that you'd come to love over the years. You could see the effort it took for him to meet your eyes, his gaze softening as though he knew the words that would follow would shatter you. Rossi had become a rock to you over the past year, always there to have a heartfelt chat about your feelings, how you were doing, and the progress you'd made trying to move on. But in reality, you hadn't.

“I’ve spoken to Aaron,” Rossi said, his voice calm but laced with gravity. “He and Jack are safe. They’ve left witness protection.”

You exhaled sharply, a mix of relief and joy rushing through you. He’s safe. After everything, he was safe. That meant he would come back. He had to.

But then Rossi continued, his eyes flicking over the team, hesitant in a way that made your stomach twist. “Hotch won't be returning to the BAU.”

The world around you froze. His words echoed in your ears, but your mind rejected them, refusing to accept the truth they carried. He’s not coming back? It didn’t make sense. You couldn’t make sense of it.

"What do you mean he’s not coming back?"

The tears welled up before you could stop them. Your throat tightened, and you felt your heart shatter inside your chest. He wasn’t coming back. The man you loved — the man you had held onto, even when he left you behind — was choosing not to return, was choosing to stay away. The hope you had so carefully nurtured and held onto was ripped away in an instant, replaced by a cold, gnawing sense of abandonment. You felt the pit in your stomach, and you couldn't tell if you were going to throw up at the revelation.

It felt like someone had stabbed you with a knife.

Tears blurred your vision as you stared blankly ahead, your body betraying you as the sobs threatened to spill out. You blinked rapidly, trying to push them back, trying to ground yourself, but it was no use. How could he?

You had waited. You had been patient. You had loved him through all of it — through the secrecy in the beginning, through the ups and the downs, and now through the distance. You had held onto the belief that once the threat was over, he would come back to you. That you two could be whole again. That your soul finally would be reunited with its missing piece. But now, it seemed like everything you had hoped for, everything you had believed in, was gone.

Your hands shook as you tried to wipe the tears from your face, but they just kept coming. He’s not coming back. The realization pierced through your chest, sharp and unforgiving. It was like reliving the moment he left, only this time, there was no promise of a future. No promise of us.

You felt like a fool. You had been his, entirely, even when he hadn’t been yours. You had given him everything — your love, your trust, your loyalty. And now? Now he had left you with nothing but the weight of that betrayal.

Your legs felt unsteady beneath you, but you couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. The room around you faded into the background as your world crumbled at Rossi’s words.

Aaron Hotchner wasn’t coming back. Not to the team. Not to you.

The silence in the room after Rossi’s announcement was deafening. You stood there, tears streaming down your face, completely oblivious to the concerned glances being exchanged around you. The tension in your chest was unbearable, and it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room.

Emily was the first to notice, her brow furrowing as she took a step toward you. “Hey,” she said softly, her voice full of concern as she tilted her head with compassion. “Are you okay?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. The words were stuck in your throat, buried under the crushing weight of your emotions. You shook your head, your lips trembling as you tried — and failed — to stop the tears. Truth be told, they weren't surprised by your reaction.

“Hey, come here,” JJ said gently, moving closer, her hand hovering just above your shoulder, wanting to pull you in for a hug. Her touch was warm and comforting, but it felt like too much. The kindness, the sympathy — it overwhelmed you, only reminded you of how deeply you’d been hurt.

You pulled away, a sudden, jerky movement that made JJ’s hand drop back to her side. The rejection was unintentional, but you couldn’t help it. Your skin felt like it was on fire, and all you wanted was to be left alone, to scream and cry.

“I’m fine,” you managed to choke out, though the crack in your voice betrayed you. You turned away from them, wiping furiously at your face, even though the tears wouldn’t stop.

I can’t break down here. Not in front of them.

Morgan stepped forward, his expression softening as he watched you struggle. “You don’t have to pretend, you know. We know how much he meant to you. We’re here for you,” he said, his voice low, it was sincere, but you weren't ready for that, weren't ready to admit that this was your new reality.

But that was the problem. They were all there, and you were unraveling in front of them, exposed and vulnerable. You didn’t want their comfort. You didn’t want their pity. What you wanted was Aaron. You wanted answers. You wanted an explanation for why he had chosen to leave you behind, why he wasn’t coming back. For why he never called.

Your heart twisted painfully at the thought. You clenched your fists at your sides, feeling the weight of their eyes on you, all of them waiting, ready to offer support. But it wasn’t enough. It will never be enough.

They weren't him.

You shook your head again, more forcefully this time. “I just—” Your voice cracked, the rest of the sentence dying on your tongue. “I need to go.”

Rossi, who had been quietly watching the exchange from across the room, stepped forward. His eyes were filled with understanding, but there was nothing he could say that would make this easier, there was nothing he could do that wouldn't make you hate him. “Take the day if you need to,” he said softly, his voice carrying a warmth that usually offered comfort, though it barely registered through the numbness settling into your bones.

You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t. You nodded stiffly, walking into the bullpen to grab your things. Your hands shook, desperate to escape before you completely fell apart in front of everyone.

“Hey,” Emily called out, stepping out of the conference room, but you didn’t turn around. You couldn’t face them — not now, maybe not ever. You pushed through the door, your footsteps echoing loudly in the hallway as you fled the room, the concerned voices of your teammates fading behind you.

Your heart raced as you moved down the familiar corridors, each step feeling heavier than the last. The walls closed in, the pressure mounting in your chest until it became unbearable. By the time you reached the front doors, you could barely see through the tears, your vision blurred, your breath coming in short, shallow bursts.

Outside, the cool air hit your face, but it did little to soothe the ache in your chest. Grey clouds loomed over your head, threatening to spill the same tears that you so desperately tried to hold back.

You stopped as you reached the end of the parking lot, finally letting the sobs you had been holding back tear through you, the grief, the betrayal, all of it crashing over you in waves.

He’s not coming back.

The words repeated in your mind, over and over again, each time cutting deeper than the last.

You had never felt so abandoned, so completely lost. And the worst part was, you had no idea what to do next, no idea who to turn to. Because the only person you truly wanted to turn to was gone from your life.

The walk back to your apartment felt like a blur, the city passing by in a haze of noise and light. You barely registered the world around you — your mind was somewhere else entirely, trapped in the ache of Rossi’s words and the sharp sting of Hotch’s decision. He wasn’t coming back. The words haunted you.

That thought pulsed through your veins, making each step feel heavier than the last. By the time you reached your door, your hands were still trembling as you fumbled with the lock, desperate to get inside and just breathe.

But the second you stepped into your apartment, something felt off.

You paused just inside the doorway, your body instinctively tensing as a strange feeling washed over you. The air felt… different. Still. You took a cautious step forward, your eyes scanning the familiar space, searching for something — anything — that looked out of the ordinary, that might explain the knot forming in your stomach.

Then you saw it.

Sitting neatly on the dining table, in plain view, were your spare keys. Next to them was an envelope with your name on it, scrawled in a handwriting only a left-handed person could've written. You recognized it immediately.

Aaron’s.

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you just stood there, frozen in time. Fear and confusion mixed with a sick sense of dread as you stared at the letter, the weight of it pressing down on your chest. How did he get in?

And how had he gotten out? The door had after all been locked.

Your heart pounded from your heart to your ears as you walked toward the table, the floor feeling unsteady beneath your feet. You hesitated for a long moment before picking up the envelope, the paper felt cold and rough between your fingers. The sight of his handwriting was almost too much to bear.

He had been here.

With shaking hands, you slid your finger through the envelope, carefully opening it and removing the letter as if it was the most delicate thing you had ever seen. Your eyes scanned the words, every stroke of the pen, every curve and twist was a painful reminder of the man who had once been yours.

The letter read:

𝙸’𝚖 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢.

𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚗. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚋𝚢𝚎. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚊 𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔.

𝙸 𝚘𝚠𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚢. 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚝. 𝙴𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝙸’𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙱𝙰𝚄. 𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚖. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝙹𝚊𝚌𝚔. 𝙷𝚎’𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 — 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 — 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚖. 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝚙𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗. 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚔 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝙷𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚢. 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚏 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚞𝚕.

𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏𝚒𝚜𝚑. 𝙸 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚛, 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚑 𝚒𝚜, 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙹𝚊𝚌𝚔’𝚜 𝚜𝚊𝚏𝚎𝚝𝚢 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙾𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸'𝚖 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍, 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚊𝚖.

𝚈𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚘𝚔��𝚢. 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘���� 𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐. 𝚂𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝙸 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚜. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 — 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎, 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝙸 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚜. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙼𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚎.

𝙸’𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚍. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚐𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚠. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚘𝚗. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕, 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎. 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚗.

𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐.

— 𝙰𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚗

The letter slipped from your hands, fluttering to the floor as your legs gave out beneath you. The sobs came violently, tearing through you as you collapsed onto the floor of your living room.

This was it. This was the moment where everything you had been holding inside — every ounce of grief, every bit of hope that had clung to your heart over the past year — finally broke free. The pain you had shoved down for so long, the hurt you had tried so hard to hide, came rushing out all at once, too powerful to contain.

You pressed your hands to your face, the tears spilling uncontrollably as your chest heaved with sobs. He had been here. He had come back to your space, to your life, only to leave you with words that felt like daggers in your heart.

He could've waited for you to come home.

He had made his choice. He was leaving you behind. And he had done it with the same precision he used for everything — careful, calculated and always thinking ahead. You couldn’t fault him for wanting to protect Jack. You would've done the same if you had been in his shoes. But you could hate the way he had left you, hate him for making you feel discarded, like something in his life that could be put away, neatly, and forgotten about without a second thought.

You curled into yourself on the floor, hugging your legs, your body trembling as wave after wave of sorrow washed over you. This wasn’t just about him leaving the BAU. This was about him leaving you. About him cutting you out of his life completely, like you had never mattered at all.

The sobs racked through you, they were raw and unrelenting, as you lay there on the cold floor of your apartment, clutching at the emptiness inside you. You had been holding onto him for so long, for too long, and now he was gone — really gone. And you were left with nothing more than the bitter taste in your mouth and the sound of your own shattered heart echoing in the silence.

Six years had passed since Hotch had walked out of your life.

In that time, you had grown, changed — hardened, perhaps. You’d thrown yourself into your work, climbing the ranks within the BAU. The weight of your experience now rested comfortably on your shoulders. You were no longer the agent who had cried in Rossi’s office all those late nights, the agent who had stood frozen in the conference room all those years ago, devastated by the news of Hotch’s permanent departure.

Now, you were Emily's right hand, trusted to run the team when needed, especially when bureaucracy. Rossi had decided to stop back a bit, taking on fewer cases and focusing more on his writing as he attempted weaning himself away from the team, hoping that this time he truly would be able to retire.

Leading the team had come naturally to you, though some days, when the office was quiet and your mind wandered, you still felt the ache of his absence.

You sighed softly, rubbing the back of your neck as you closed your office door behind you. It was time for the next briefing, and you’d promised Emily you’d call everyone in. The case was urgent — a missing child, time was not on your side — but as you walked toward the conference room, your attention was pulled to the large TV mounted on the wall in the bullpen.

A voice you hadn’t heard in years rang out through the room, smooth and familiar, the same low timbre that had once soothed your heart. The voice that still echoed in your dreams on nights when sleep was particularly elusive.

Aaron.

You stopped in your tracks, eyes snapping to the television screen, your heart thudding loudly in your chest as his face filled the screen. You couldn't tell if it was anxiety or love perhaps, that raced through your veins, the only thing you knew was that you were feeling something. Something you hadn't felt in years.

There he was, standing at a podium, flanked by the American flag, a calm and authoritative presence as he spoke to a crowd. The caption running along the bottom read: Former FBI unit chief Aaron Hotchner Announces Candidacy for a spot in Congress.

Your breath hitched. He looked older. The lines on his face were more defined, his hair tinged with a little more gray, his face was shaven, somethings never change you thought — though you could sense the salt and pepper streaks that had started appearing within it. The years had marked him, but there was still an undeniable strength in his presence. A steady, unshakable resolve that had always been a part of who he was.

And yet, even now, after all this time, he still looked as good as the day you last saw him. Perhaps even more so, with that air of confidence that seemed to come so naturally to him. The sharpness in his gaze, the way he commanded a room — it was all still there, just as you remembered — even through a TV screen.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away.

“…It is with great honor that I announce my candidacy for Congress,” Hotch’s voice continued, steady and firm. “My years of service in the FBI have prepared me to take on the challenges we face as a nation, and I believe it’s time to bring the values of justice and integrity to the forefront of our government. I believe it's time for a change.”

The camera zoomed in on his face, his expression was stoic yet passionate, every word calculated and purposeful. The sight of him brought back a rush of memories — late nights in the office, quiet moments where you’d lean on each other after a case, the warmth of his smile when it was just the two of you, away from the chaos, the comfort of his hugs, the soft and tender feeling of his lips — everything came back.

But those memories were ghosts now. Echoes of a time you had buried deep, right along with the pain of losing him.

A lump formed in your throat as you stood there, rooted in place, watching a man who had once been everything to you stand on that stage, now completely out of reach — yet so close by. He wasn’t the same man you knew all those years ago, you were sure of that. He wasn’t your Hotch anymore. He was something else entirely — a public figure, a leader stepping into the political arena, ready to take on a whole new world — perhaps he never really was yours to begin with.

Your fingers tightened around the folder in your hands, your knuckles turning white with sheer force, the weight of it grounding you as you forced yourself to breathe. You didn’t know what to feel. Shock, maybe. Sadness. Perhaps even a bit of pride, seeing him like this, doing something for the greater good. But mostly, there was a gnawing ache deep in your chest, a familiar one, reminding you of what could have been.

You blinked rapidly, tearing your gaze away from the screen as the room started to blur around you. Your heart was racing, but you couldn’t let yourself fall apart. Not here. Not now.

“Everything okay?” Luke asked, walking past you, his eyes flicking to the TV screen before landing back on you, concern etched on his face. He didn't know much about your relationship with Hotch, only the rumors that had flown between the desks in the bullpen as you'd drowned yourself in work trying to suffocate the pain.

You nodded quickly, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Yeah,” you lied, your voice tight. “I’ll be right there. Just… finishing something up.”

Luke gave you a nod, but his eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before he headed toward the conference room, leaving you standing there, feeling like the air had been sucked out of the space around you.

You turned back to the screen, just in time to catch the last shot of Hotch stepping down from the podium, the applause from the crowd ringing out as the camera panned away.

For a brief moment, you wondered if he had ever thought about you during these last six years. If he had thought of calling you. If, somewhere in that busy mind of his, you had crossed his thoughts as he prepared to step into this new chapter of his life.

But it didn’t matter now. He had made his choice, and so had you.

Taking a deep breath, you straightened your shoulders and turned away from the screen, pushing down the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. There was a case to solve. There always was. And that was the only thing that mattered now.

“Alright, team,” you called out, walking towards the conference room, your voice steady once again. “Let’s get to work.”

You walked into the conference room, trying to shake off the lingering effects of seeing Hotch on the TV. The rest of the team was already seated as you made it inside, files in hand, waiting for you to start the briefing. Emily glanced at you, her eyes narrowing slightly, sensing something was off, but she didn’t press. She trusted you to compartmentalize when it mattered.

You inhaled deeply and projected the case details on the large screen at the front of the room. The image of a young boy's smiling face filled the space, the innocence in his eyes starkly contrasted by the grim reality of his disappearance and the details listed in the case files of similar incidents in the area.

“Alright, everyone,” you began, keeping your voice steady. “Our missing person is Ethan Marshall, age 7. He was last seen outside of his school two days ago in a quiet suburb of Portland, Oregon. His parents reported him missing when he didn’t come home after his play date that same day with his best friend from class. There’s been no contact from a potential abductor. No ransom demands. The local authorities are stuck, and they’ve requested our help.”

JJ immediately sat forward, flipping through the case file. “Two days with no leads and no communication? We’re looking at someone who doesn’t need the attention. This could be personal, or we’re dealing with someone who’s done this before and knows what they're doing.”

Tara nodded thoughtfully, her gaze still fixed on Ethan’s photo. “The fact that there’s been no contact suggests they’re not after money. This might be about control, power, or even something darker, like revenge or even fantasy or sexually-driven motives.” You closed your eyes for a brief moment at the thought of what the unsub might put the young boy through. You had to find him, quickly.

You clicked through to the next slide — images of Ethan’s parents, Tim and Julia Marshall. “Ethan’s parents are a stable middle-class family with no criminal records. His mother works as a nurse, and his father is a local contractor. No major incidents or enemies we or they know of. However, Tim Marshall's company was sued about a year ago over a construction job that went south. It’s possible there could be a grudge tied to that.”

Luke leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “But to target a child? It’s a big escalation. If this is about the father’s job, we’d need to look into that lawsuit, but we also need to consider the possibility that the kid was the primary target from the start.”

Emily chimed in, her eyes sharp with focus. “Agreed. We should explore all angles — someone with a grudge against the family, a potential predator, or maybe even someone close to the family. It’s often someone they know.”

Spencer, who had been quietly flipping through his notes, spoke up. “The average age for a child abductor is in their mid-thirties to mid-forties, typically male, though that’s not always the case. Most of them have a history of deviant behavior or crimes against minors. If this is someone who’s taken Ethan to satisfy a fantasy, we might be looking at someone who has done this several times before and is getting better at hiding their tracks.”

Your gaze swept over the team, the weight of the case settling in the room. “We’ve got a few potential leads we need to investigate. JJ, I want you to work on the media angle — see if you can coordinate with local news to get a controlled message out, prepare the Marshalls for a conference. Luke, you and Tara will dig deeper into Tim Marshall’s lawsuit. See if there’s anything there we can work with. Spencer, I want you to start profiling any possible suspects within a fifty-mile radius who fit the age and behavioral profile of past offenders.”

The team nodded, already mentally gearing up for the work ahead. You could see the gears turning in their minds as they absorbed the information and pieced together possible profiles of the unsub.

Finally, you cleared your throat, pushing away the personal turmoil still brewing inside you. “Alright, everyone, we’ve got a missing boy out there, and time is against us. We’ll get more information as we land.”

You snapped the case file shut and looked up at your team, your voice firm. “Wheels up in 30.”

The team dispersed quickly, heading off to gather their gear and finalize last-minute preparations. You lingered behind for a moment, watching the case photos flicker on the screen. Your heart was still heavy from earlier, but you had a job to do. No distractions. No room for the past.

Focus, keep moving, you told yourself, even though the image of Hotch’s face still lingered in the back of your mind, you couldn't afford to spare him another thought.

The case had been wrapped up with surprising speed, and the flight back to Quantico was a welcome relief. You settled into your seat, the hum of the plane a calming reminder of the good you and the team had done today. You felt the exhaustion seep into your bones as the plane roared into the sky. The hum of the engines and the rhythmic sound of the wings provided a backdrop, but you couldn't shake the tumult of emotions swirling within you.

As you glanced around the cabin, you noticed that everyone else was fast asleep, the exhaustion from the long days evident on their faces. Emily’s head rested against JJ’s shoulder, and Spencer was curled up in his seat with a book laid open in his lap, the pages fluttering slightly with the plane’s movement. Luke, too, was snoring softly on the couch, a slight smile on his lips as he pulled the blanket tighter around him. They all looked so peaceful.

But your mind was far from peaceful.

You leaned back in your seat, your thoughts racing back to Hotch’s announcement. You had tried to compartmentalize your feelings during the case, focusing solely on finding Ethan. But now, with the rush of adrenaline faded and the quiet of the plane surrounding you, the weight of it all crashed back in.

“Hey,” came a familiar voice, pulling you from your thoughts. Rossi had moved to sit across from you, concern etched into his features. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s going on?”

Before you could filter your thoughts, the words slipped out. “Did you know?”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he knew exactly what you were referring to. “Yes, he called me last week to let me know.”

Your heart raced at the revelation. “He called you? Why didn’t you tell me?” Your words came out as a hushed hiss. Rossi knew you hadn't meant it like that, but your frustration of how everything had panned out had never really gone away. He understood why you were feeling like you did.

Rossi leaned back in his seat, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he took in your features. “I didn’t want to upset you more than you already were. I thought you’d hear about it when he officially announced it. I thought maybe he'd even reach out himself” Rossi knew Hotch wouldn't reach out to you, even if his life depended on it. He was a proud man, and even if he had been willing to admit his wrongs, he was too scared to face you and realize just how big of a mistake this truly had been.

You ran a hand through your hair, frustration bubbling to the surface. “But why, Rossi? Why would he do this? He had a life with us — his life in the BAU, with Jack, with me. And now he’s just… gone.”

“I know it’s hard to understand,” he replied softly. “But running for Congress might be a way for him to contribute on a larger scale. He wants to help people, to make a difference, just like he did with us. This was a chance for him to step into a role where he could have an even bigger impact than what he had in the bureau. Who knows, maybe we'll see him around someday.”

You shook your head, the tears threatening to spill again. “But he didn’t even talk to me about it. It’s like he just vanished. I thought we had something, and then he just left. I felt so abandoned.”

Rossi’s expression turned serious. “You know how Hotch is. He’s always been someone who puts others before himself, even at the cost of his own happiness. I think he truly believes this is what’s best for Jack and for himself. It doesn’t mean he didn’t care about you. In fact, I know he cared deeply about you. It just means he’s trying to figure things out in his own way.”

“But what about me?” You whispered, your voice trembling. “I was left behind, and now I’m still here, trying to navigate everything without him.”

Rossi said your name, leaning forward, his eyes softening. It wasn't as much a reprimand, as it was him trying to stop your spiraling thoughts. You both knew it did you no good. Especially not if the rumors were true and Emily was in line for the open position of Section Chief. Both of you knew what that would mean for you. “He made a choice, yes, but it doesn’t erase what you two had. If anything, it highlights how much he valued that relationship. He wouldn’t have just walked away without thinking it through, even if it seems that way.”

You took a deep breath, trying to find your footing amidst the emotional turmoil. “I just don’t know how to deal with all of this. It feels so final, so absolute. I thought I was ready to move on, but seeing him on TV...”

Rossi reached across the table, his hand resting gently on yours. “You don’t have to have it all figured out right now. It’s okay to feel hurt. It’s okay to be confused. But remember, you’re still part of this team, and we’re here for you, no matter what. You’re not alone in this. You never will be.”

You nodded slowly, his words providing a small sense of comfort amidst the chaos in your heart. “Thanks, Rossi. I appreciate it. I just wish things were different.”

He gave you an understanding smile. “So do I. But whatever happens next, we’ll face it together. And if you need to talk about Hotch, I’m here to listen. Just know that he still cares, even if it doesn’t seem like it right now.” You knew he was right.

As you both fell into a comfortable silence, you felt a little weight lift from your chest. Maybe you didn’t have all the answers yet, but you had the support of your team. And that was a start.

Weeks drifted by like the clouds hanging in the sky, each day seemingly blending into the next. Hotch’s face became a fixture on the television, the cadence of his voice echoing in your mind like a haunting refrain. News reports came almost daily, showcasing him speaking passionately about his vision for change, the values he held dear, and the policies he aimed to implement if elected. The topics ranged from community safety to education reform, and while many praised his ideals, you found yourself seething each time his image flickered across the screen.

He still hadn't contacted you yet.

At first, you tried to engage with the reports, focusing on the substance of his speeches, realizing that despite everything he's policies aligned with your values too, but as each new broadcast emerged, anger simmered beneath the surface. It was infuriating to watch the man you loved stand there, poised and confident — visiting schools, nursery homes, community centers, and everything in between — while you were left with nothing but fragments of the life you had once envisioned together. He seemed so distant, a stranger now, embodying everything you once admired but now felt betrayed by.

Each time you heard his voice, the way he articulated his beliefs with the conviction that had once made your heart race, you locked yourself in your office for the remainder of the day, drowning out the world with your frustration and sorrow. Your colleagues exchanged worried glances as you retreated, but you couldn’t bring yourself to explain. They didn’t know the depth of your pain, the feeling of abandonment that clawed at your insides. And you weren't ready for them to know.

On one particularly long evening, the office was silent, the usual buzz of activity having died down as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting shadows across your workspace. You sat alone at your desk, the glow of your computer screen the only light illuminating the room. Your heart felt heavy, the emotional burden weighing on you like a thick blanket.

As the clock ticked away, you absentmindedly pulled out your phone and scrolled through your photos. You found it — the last picture you had taken with Hotch and Jack. You hadn't meant to look for it, but something within you had drawn your mind to that particular folder with pictures you never quite had the strength to transfer out of your phone. In the picture, the three of you stood in the park, sunlight filtering through the trees, laughter frozen in time. Hotch’s arm was around you, a protective and loving gesture, while Jack beamed in front of you, holding his soccer ball in his hands, all youthful energy and innocence.

You stared at the image, the way Hotch’s eyes crinkled at the edges with genuine joy, contrasting sharply with the turmoil roiling in your chest. A single tear slid down your cheek, carving a path through the haze of anger and hurt.

“Jack,” you whispered to yourself, your voice barely audible in the stillness of the office. He must be close to 18 now. The thought struck you like a lightning bolt. Time had slipped by so swiftly, and you couldn’t help but wonder what kind of young man he had become. Had Hotch been there for him? Had he taken the time to show his son what love was? Did they share the same laughter you once did, or had the weight of their decisions overshadowed those moments?

You closed your eyes, allowing your mind to drift back to memories of Jack — the way his laughter filled the room, his playful spirit that lit up the darkest days. The action figures scattered all over your apartment. You remembered the way he would come running into your arms when you stayed over for the weekend, his small frame clinging to you like you were the safest place in the world. You had cherished those moments, and now they felt like distant echoes, fading into the background of your life.

The thought of him growing up without you, of Hotch and Jack creating a new life that you weren’t a part of, twisted in your gut. The anger that had bubbled beneath the surface surged forth again, but this time, it mingled with an overwhelming sense of grief and longing. You felt like a ghost haunting the edges of their lives, watching from afar as they moved on, while you were trapped in a limbo of unresolved feelings.

Taking a deep breath, you swiped the tear from your cheek and opened your eyes. You couldn’t stay like this. You couldn’t let him keep affecting you from a distance, even if it meant facing the truth of your feelings. You needed to regain control, to reclaim your narrative, whatever that might look like.

As you set the phone down, determination coursed through you. You would find a way to confront the anger and pain, to redefine your path without him. But the journey would be a challenge — one you weren’t entirely ready to take, yet knew you had to face.

With a heavy sigh, you stood, ready to leave the remnants of that day behind. You took one last look at the photo on your phone, whispering softly, “I hope you’re happy, Hotch. I really do.”

And with that, you stepped out of the office, leaving for the night, leaving the memories behind, but carrying them with you as you prepared for whatever came next.

A couple of days passed since that late night in your office, the echo of memories lingering like a haunting refrain. You had spent the time focusing on work, throwing yourself into cases, and helping your team. It was a temporary distraction, but every time you caught sight of a news segment featuring Hotch, you felt that familiar ache in your chest. Each broadcast, showcasing his polished demeanor and political aspirations, only stoked the embers of frustration and longing buried deep within you.

Then, one afternoon, as you sat at your desk, your phone buzzed with an incoming message from an unknown number. Your heart raced with curiosity and a hint of apprehension as you opened the text:

“Hey! It’s Jack..... I don't know if you remember me. I know this is a bit out of the blue, but I’d love to see you. We're back in Virginia again. I miss you and wanted to ask if you’d meet with me. Sorry if this is weird, but I hope you’re okay.”

Your breath caught in your throat. It was Jack. After all these years, he was reaching out. The memories of his laughter and bright smile flooded back, bringing with them a rush of warmth and bittersweet nostalgia. Without a second thought, you quickly typed out your response.

“Hi, Jack! It’s great to hear from you. I’d love to meet. How about we catch up at the café near the Academy?”

You hit send and felt a wave of nervous excitement wash over you, followed closely by a rush of trepidation. What would he look like? Would he be the same boy you remembered, or had he transformed into someone else entirely different? The thought churned in your stomach as you anxiously awaited his reply.

The day of the meeting arrived, and as you approached the café, your heart raced with anticipation. The small establishment was bustling with life, the aroma of fresh coffee wafting through the air, mingling with the sweet scent of pastries. You stepped inside, scanning the room until your eyes landed on him.

Jack sat at a table in the corner, his back to you, and you felt a jolt of recognition. He had grown into a young man, tall and confident, with his hair still matching Haley's, his eyes brighter than ever. But it was the way he carried himself that struck you most — he exuded a maturity that seemed to echo Hotch’s stoic demeanor, yet there was a warmth about him that was uniquely his own. Jack was much more like his mother than he would ever realize.

As he turned to look at you, a broad smile broke across his face, and your heart swelled at the sight. He stood, and for a moment, it felt like time had collapsed, erasing the years that had separated you. You rushed forward, wrapping your arms around him, and he embraced you tightly, a mix of nostalgia and warmth flooding over you both.

“Jack,” you whispered, stepping back to get a better look at him. “You’ve grown up so much.”

“Yeah, well, I guess that’s what happens when you turn eighteen,” he replied, a hint of playful sarcasm in his voice, but the joy in his eyes was unmistakable. You were surprised by how deep his voice had gotten, still recalling the sweet sounds of the 11-year-old boy who had gone into witness protection.

You both settled into your seats, and the initial rush of excitement settled into a comfortable rhythm as you sipped your coffees. “How have you been?” you asked, genuine curiosity etched in your voice.

Jack hesitated, his expression growing serious. “It’s been tough since… since everything that happened. After we left witness protection, it was just Dad and me. We moved a lot at first but eventually settled down in Chicago. Dad tried his best, but it wasn’t easy.”

You nodded, your heart aching for him. “I can only imagine. How is he doing?”

Jack shrugged, glancing down at his cup. “He’s okay, I guess." He mumbled. "He doesn’t talk about you much, I don't think he can bring himself to let the memories resurface. But I can tell he misses you a lot. He still has all the pictures of us together. Sometimes, I catch him looking at them when he thinks I’m not paying attention.” His voice was thick with emotion, and you felt your heartache further.

Had Hotch been as miserable as you?

“I missed you both too,” you admitted, your voice softening. “But I don't know if I can bring myself to keep holding on to the past. Not as long as Hotch hasn’t reached out to me, I’m probably not going to contact him. At least not for my own well-being.” You sighed, knowing it was the right decision, but still beating yourself up for listening to your sensibility.

Jack’s gaze met yours, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. “I get it. I just wanted to see you after all this time. You were like a mother to me after Mom…” His voice trailed off, and the pain in his eyes mirrored your own. You wondered if Hotch had ever talked about Haley, talked about what had happened to his mother, if Jack had ever gotten any answers?

You reached out, placing your hand over his. “I’m so sorry, Jack. I wish I could have been there for you both. I loved you both so much.”

“I know,” he said, squeezing your hand. “And that’s why I wanted to meet. I just—” he paused, searching for the right words. “I needed to know if you were okay. It’s been a long time, and you were always there for me.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, a mixture of sorrow and relief washing over you. “I’ve missed you more than I can say. You were such a bright light in my life, Jack. It’s been hard without you both.”

The conversation flowed naturally, filled with shared memories and the weight of unspoken emotions. You listened as Jack talked about his life since Hotch had stepped into the world of politics — his own struggles, school, feeling like his friends didn't know the real him, the challenges of growing up without a mother, and the bond he still cherished with his father. It felt like they never left.

“I think Dad thought he was protecting me by not talking about you. But I needed to know about you, how you were doing. I needed to know you were okay.” He confessed, his eyes earnest. “He was always so focused on keeping me safe that he didn’t realize how much I missed you. How much he missed you.”

The warmth of Jack’s words wrapped around you, reassuring you that your bond hadn’t faded, even in the years apart. You shared stories, laughing softly at the memories of days long gone. The sun filtered through the café windows, casting a golden glow over the two of you, illuminating the path of healing you both needed.

As the café buzzed around you, it felt like a sanctuary, a safe space where the past and present intertwined, reminding you of the love that had once filled your life. This was a step forward, a chance to heal the wounds that had lingered for too long.

In that moment, sitting across from Jack, you realized that while the scars of the past might never fully fade, the possibility of rebuilding a future was within reach. Maybe not with Hotch, but potentially regain contact and a relationship with Jack.

“Let’s not let this much time pass before we see each other again,” you suggested, your heart lifting at the idea of keeping this connection alive.

“Definitely. You can count on it,” Jack promised, and as you both exchanged a smile, the weight of your shared history felt a little lighter, the hope for what was to come a little brighter.

The sun streamed through the windows of your office, casting a gentle glow on the stacks of case files and the photographs of the BAU team adorning your walls. You leaned back in your chair, still buzzing from your meeting with Jack, your heart lighter after the emotional reunion. The warmth of yesterday's trip to the café lingered in your mind, a comfort amidst the chaotic world of profiling and criminal behavior.

Just as you began to focus on the case at hand, there was a soft knock on your door. You looked up to see Emily stepping in, a slight frown creasing her forehead. She crossed the room and sat down in one of the chairs in front of your desk.

“Hey,” she said, her tone catching your attention. “I just got off the phone with the Director. He wants the BAU to assist with a case involving a politician in Congress.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of Congress, knowing potentially what that could mean, and you held your breath, bracing for the inevitable connection. “Do they have any details yet?”

Emily nodded, her eyes searching yours. “Not much. It seems there’s been some suspicious activity surrounding him, but the Director wanted us to prioritize this. I thought I should let you know, especially given the possibility of running into Hotch.”

You felt a pang in your chest at the mention of his name, but you pushed it aside, focusing on the task at hand. “So, we’re not profiling Hotch, then?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady with a joke, masking the swirl of emotions rising within you.

“No, he’s not involved at all with this case actually,” Emily clarified, crossing her arms. “But with him being in the spotlight, there’s a chance we might see him around, especially if the investigation takes us to other parts of D.C. or if he’s involved in any press events while we're at Congress.”

You nodded, absorbing the information. “Right. I guess I should prepare myself for that possibility.” Your heart raced at the thought, the image of him on the television still fresh in your mind. The last few weeks of seeing him on the news had stirred up a mix of longing and unresolved feelings, and now the idea of encountering him face-to-face was both thrilling and terrifying.

“Are you okay with this?” Emily asked, her gaze softening with concern. “I know seeing him might bring up some stuff.”

You took a deep breath, weighing your emotions. “I’ll be fine. I have to be. We have a job to do, and I can’t let my feelings get in the way of that.” You tried to sound confident, but uncertainty crept in.

Emily smiled, a mix of support and understanding shining in her eyes. “I know you’re strong. Just remember, we’re in this together. And if it gets overwhelming, I’m right here.”

“Thanks, Em. I appreciate that.” You felt a swell of gratitude for her unwavering support. “Let’s get the team together and see what we can dig up on this case.”

Emily nodded, pushing herself up from the chair. “I’ll gather everyone for a briefing. Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

As she left your office, you couldn’t shake the feeling of impending change in the air. The thought of the case intertwined with the possibility of seeing Hotch again sent your mind racing. There was a part of you that yearned to see him, to hear his voice again, but another part was afraid of what it might mean for the rehabilitation of your heart shattered.

After a few moments, you collected yourself and headed to the conference room, determined to focus on the task ahead. You were a profiler, after all, and you wouldn’t let personal feelings cloud your judgment. But as you stepped into the room and looked at your team, the looming presence of Hotch hung over you like a shadow.

The bustling atmosphere of Congress was overwhelming, the echo of voices mingling with the rustle of papers and the faint sounds of distant conversations, as crowds of people moved past you every single second. Somehow you hadn't thought the building would be this busy.

You moved through the maze of hallways, the weight of the case hanging over you like a heavy cloud. After an intense briefing with the team and several hours of sifting through documents, you decided a quick coffee break was necessary. It was a small reprieve, a moment to gather your thoughts before diving back into the investigation.

As you stepped into the crowded café, the rich aroma of coffee filled your senses, providing a brief comfort. As you waited for your order you glanced around, noting the throngs of aides and politicians, some deep in conversation, others lost in their phones. After what felt like an eternity, you finally received your drink, you ordered a cappuccino, absently stirring the foam as you made your way back toward the senator’s office.

Navigating the marble corridors was not easy, you focused, trying to remember the way you had come from. The noise of the café faded behind you as you moved further away, and the hum of energy around you began to fade as you thought about the case details you had just discussed with your team. But as you rounded a corner, lost in thought, everything changed in an instant.

There, just a few feet away, stood Aaron Hotchner. Your Aaron.

Time seemed to freeze. The world around you faded into a blur, and all you could see was him. He looked older nothing like he had looked on the TV, more refined, better even, yet he still carried that familiar intensity in his dark eyes. It was as if the years had melted away, and you were right back to those last moments before he disappeared from your life. Your heart raced, the mix of emotions overwhelming as you locked eyes with him.

For a brief moment, neither of you moved, caught in an electric silence that stretched between you. The familiar ache of longing hit you hard in the chest, twisting your stomach into knots. Memories rushed back — laughter, warmth, the comfort of his presence — but so did the pain of his absence and the betrayal you felt when he left.

In your shock, you didn’t realize your hand had loosened its grip on the coffee cup until it slipped from your fingers. The porcelain collided with the polished floor, shattering into a million tiny pieces, the sound echoing loudly in the otherwise quiet hallway. The hot liquid spilled out, soaking into the pristine marble and staining the floor with brown patches.

“Oh God,” you murmured, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. You stepped back, embarrassment flooding your cheeks, but you couldn’t tear your gaze away from him.

Hotch said your name, his voice low and steady, yet laced with an emotion that mirrored your own shock. He took a cautious step toward you, as if afraid you might disappear again. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Neither did I,” you managed, your voice trembling as you fought to regain your composure. But the words felt inadequate, too mundane for the weight of the moment. A wave of emotion crashed over you, and the dam holding back your feelings began to crumble. “Do you even realize what you put me through, Aaron? Do you know how many nights I spent wondering if you were dead or alive? How many times I replayed those last moments in my mind, wishing I could have changed things?”

Hotch’s expression shifted, pain flashing across his face. “I never wanted to hurt you. I thought I was doing what was best for Jack!”

“Best for Jack?” you repeated incredulously, your voice rising with each word. “What about me? What about my feelings? You just left! You abandoned me without so much as a goodbye! I had to rebuild my life without you, and all you can say is you were trying to protect him. It doesn’t make any sense!”

He took a step forward, frustration mingling with sadness in his eyes. “I had no choice! I had to keep you both safe! Do you really think I wanted to leave you behind? You think it was easy for me? It wasn’t! I’ve thought about you every single day!”

The sincerity in his voice pierced through your anger, but you couldn’t let it go. “It’s too little, too late, Aaron! You can’t just show up out of nowhere after six years and expect everything to be okay. You made your choice!”

“I never stopped loving you!” he shouted, his voice filled with raw emotion. The admission hung between you, heavy and charged, and you felt your heart skip a beat.

You stepped closer, eyes locked onto his, fueled by a mix of anger and disbelief. “How can you say that? You left me! You made a choice, and you chose to protect your son over me. I had to learn to live with that — learn to live without you!”

“And it killed me! I had to protect my family, and in doing so, I destroyed my own happiness. But you have to know, you were always in my heart. I never wanted to hurt you!” His voice softened slightly, the intensity shifting to desperation. “I thought you’d move on, that you’d find someone better who could give you what you deserve.”

“Better?” you scoffed, your anger giving way to an ache in your chest. “You think I wanted anyone else? No one could ever compare to you, Aaron. I spent years waiting for you, hoping you’d come back, that we could fix this.”

He took a step closer, closing the distance between you. “Then why didn’t you reach out? Why didn’t you try to find me?”

“Because you made it clear you wanted nothing to do with me!” You shot back, tears of frustration burning your eyes. “I had to respect your choice, but I thought you’d at least have the decency to contact me after everything we went through together!”

“I didn’t want to put you in danger! I thought it was for the best!” His voice rose again, echoing through the hallway, but there was a desperate plea beneath his anger.

“Best for who, Aaron?” you demanded, your emotions spilling over. “You think running for Congress is going to fix everything? You think I want to see you on TV every day, talking about policies and values when all I want is to talk to you about us?”

Before you could finish your thought, he closed the gap between you in an instant, grasping your arms gently but firmly. The intensity in his eyes held you captive, and then he kissed you. It was a collision of pent-up emotions, a heated, desperate kiss that spoke of everything unsaid. Your lips pressed against his, teeth grazing against teeth, and for a moment, the world around you faded into the background.

You lost yourself in the kiss, a whirlwind of anger, longing, and the familiar warmth that had always existed between you. It felt like no time had passed at all, yet every moment you had spent apart surged back, filling the space with an urgency you hadn’t felt in years.

Without breaking the kiss, you found yourselves moving, bodies instinctively drawn toward his office down the hall, Hotch leading the way. The door stood ajar, but you barely registered it as you stumbled inside, Hotch pulling you in after him. He nudged the door shut with his foot, the soft click of the latch echoing in the silence as he pressed you against it.

You barely noticed the cluttered desk or the framed photographs lining the walls. All that mattered was the heat radiating from him, the way his hands cupped your face, thumb brushing over your cheek. He kissed you again, deeper this time, a fierce claim that made your heart race.

With each touch, the tension from earlier seemed to dissolve, leaving only the intoxicating rush of being so close again. You could feel the weight of his desperation, the years of longing that had built up between you, igniting a fire within you that had never truly gone out.

Finally, as you both breathed heavily against each other, he stepped back slightly, just enough to turn the lock behind him. The finality of the action made your heart pound even harder, the implications of this moment crashing down around you.

Before you knew it, Hotch crashed his lips into yours once again.

“Goddamn it, you’re so fucking wet,” he muttered into your neck, as he moved his hand under your skirt, you could feel his smirk against your skin. He was kissing you again, his fingers sliding up your body until they reached your breasts. You arched back into him with a soft sigh of pleasure, your hips rolling against his growing erection. You could feel how much he wanted you and it made you even more desperate for him.

You broke away from the kiss, staring up at him through half-lidded eyes. “Fuck me,” you said your voice sounded rough, still thick with lust from the kiss. You could see the flicker of pleasure that danced across his face, the fire burning in his eyes when he heard your words.

He didn’t speak though, he just pushed you back against his desk and as your ass met the wooden edge he lifted you up onto it by your things. The movement made your skirt ride up further, you tried to pull it back down out of instinct, but Hotch stopped you with a firm grip on your wrist. You gasped when his hands moved to grab the edge of your panties as he ripped them off. That had always been his favorite thing to do. Nothing had changed.

You barely had a chance to catch your breath before he had two fingers buried deep inside your cunt. “Fuck,” you hissed against his lips. He added a third finger and you gasped, your nails clawing into his back as you braced yourself, pleasure radiating through your body. You were already close to coming, desperate from the lack of a man's touch, he’d only been fingering you for a few seconds, but it was a much-needed release that you hadn't realized you had needed. He was determined to make you cum, was going to make you cum in his office, on his desk. You truly hoped that his door was locked.

Hotch leaned in and kissed you again, sucking at your bottom lip and then moving down to your neck. He bit into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, you moaned in response. Your legs spread around him and he groaned as you rocked your hips against his hand, trying so desperately to chase your release.

“Fuck, I need to get inside you,” he muttered against your skin. "I need to feel that pussy again. My pussy." He growled.

You felt a shiver run through your body at his words. “Please,” you begged, “now.”

You didn’t know if you unbuttoned his pants or he did, but somehow they were already around his ankles and he was pushing into you. His cock pulsed as he bottomed out, clouding your vision with the pure bliss from finally feeling him again. You let out a breathless moan as he stretched you out. It had been way too long since you'd felt the touch of a man you thought. His touch. Your hands slid down his back trying to pull him closer in an attempt to push him deeper inside of you. He groaned as he started to thrust into you. You felt every ridge of his cock as he moved.

The rhythm was hard and fast, your skin slapping together in loud claps. Your pussy was dripping, slick with wetness, your muscles clenching around him with every thrust as if you were trying to lock him in place inside your heat. You cried out when he pushed you down flat on his desk, his arms wrapped around your body as he started fucking you with the raw essence of an animal. The pleasure ran through your head and you nearly came right there.

Hotch grabbed your hair and yanked your head back. “You’re going to cum on my cock, aren’t you?” He hissed through gritted teeth.

“Yes,” you hissed, trying to move your hips under him. Your teeth gritted, eyes rolling back into your head as your breathing sped up, almost hyperventilating from the immense pleasure.

“You like being fucked on my desk, don’t you?”

“Fuck,” you moaned.

He slammed into you and then stilled. You whined in frustration as he held still inside of you. “Tell me. Use your words!”

“Yes sir,” you agreed, hoping it would get him to start moving again. It worked like a charm and he quickly slammed into you once more before fucking you into oblivion again. Hotch hit your G-spot with every thrust, you could feel your orgasm building up inside, the knot tightening, dangerously close to snapping in half. You felt him swell inside of you, his cock pushing into you harder and faster than before, as his thighs started vibration, you knew he was close too.

He leaned down over you and kissed you as you came. He swallowed down your cries as his hips stuttered. His cock felt like it was going to split you in half, but it felt so good as it sent you into a new level of pleasure. He came hard, hot liquid filling you up, you clung to his shoulders and cried out again as he groaned into your mouth.

Hotch pulled away slowly, his breath ragged as he held you close for a moment longer. The heat of the moment lingered in the air, but as he took a step back, you felt the loss of his warmth immediately. He gently helped you shift into a sitting position on the edge of his desk, his hands steadying you as you settled.

He moved to stand between your legs, the space filled with unspoken words and the weight of years apart. His eyes searched yours, an intensity in his gaze that made your heart flutter. Hotch cupped your face, his thumbs brushing lightly over your cheekbones.

“God, I missed you,” he murmured, resting his forehead against yours. The intimacy of the gesture, so simple yet so profound, stirred something deep within you. It felt as though he had never left, as if no time had passed at all since that fateful day in his office so many years ago where he had just been... gone.

He pressed tender kisses to your lips, each one a promise, a reassurance that this moment was real. You leaned into him, surrendering to the familiar comfort of his presence as you wrapped your arms around his torso, resting your head against his chest. You let the tears that had been building up finally spill over. They rolled down your cheeks, mingling with the remnants of the heat that still pulsed between you.

“I… I met up with Jack,” you admitted your voice barely above a whisper, laden with emotion. The moment hung heavy in the air. You could see the flicker of surprise in Hotch’s eyes, but it was quickly replaced by understanding. “He’s grown up so much. He’s… he's an adult now.”

Hotch’s expression softened, a mix of pride and sadness flickering across his features. “He’s always been a remarkable kid,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m glad you two were able to reconnect.”

“I missed you both so much,” you confessed, the weight of your words crashing over you like a wave. The years of longing, the nights spent wondering about him and Jack, came rushing back. “It’s been so hard, Aaron. Watching you on TV, hearing you talk about your values and the future... all I wanted was to be a part of that future again.”

He nodded slowly, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I know. I wanted to reach out so many times, but I didn’t know if I was worth it to you. I thought you’d moved on. Didn't want to disrupt your life.”

You shook your head, a mix of determination and vulnerability surging within you. “I never moved on. I just learned to live without you. But I don’t want to do that anymore.”

Hotch stepped closer again, his hands still cradling your face as if he were afraid you might disappear. “Then let’s try again,” he said softly, the sincerity in his voice melting the last remnants of doubt lingering in your heart. “Let’s see if we can make this work, for us and for Jack.”

You swallowed hard, hope igniting within you like a flame. “I want that,” you whispered, a smile breaking through your tears. “I really want that.”

He leaned in, brushing his lips against yours once more, the kiss gentle but filled with an undercurrent of promise. It was a reaffirmation of everything you both had lost and everything you hoped to regain. In that moment, surrounded by the chaos of the world outside, you felt a sense of peace and belonging you hadn’t experienced in years.

“Let’s take it one step at a time,” he said, pulling back slightly to meet your gaze, his eyes bright with determination. “We’ll figure this out together.”

With your heart full and tears still glistening in your eyes, you nodded. For the first time in years, you felt a weight lift from your shoulders. The future ahead felt uncertain, but for the first time, it was a future you were excited to face — together.

@vikingstoner69

[pickingupmymercedes]

Improvised Compensation - Lewis Hamilton (NSFW)

request: "Hi can we maybe have a smut where your work gets in the way of your plans, so you have to make do somewhere else" - anon

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: unprotected sexual activities.

Also, wrap it before you tap it guys

wordcount: +2K

a/n: I had this video as inspo and this request and my mind RAN wild with it (cut the wordings from the request to keep the explicit part under the cut). Hope you guys have fun reading it.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT

______________________________________________________________

Lewis tiptoed into the kitchen, the early California sun painting golden stripes across the floor. His weekend fantasy of waking up next to Y/n, tangled in sheets met a reality that both frustrated and thrilled him.

The kitchen island was his first clue. Y/n, perched on the marble counter, her back arched in a way that he felt in his groin, typed away on her laptop. Her usual sharp focus clearly clouded by fatigue, evidenced by the round, black-rimmed glasses perched on her nose - a rare sight - and a messy bun that barely contained her unusually unruly hair.

"Ugh, finally" she muttered, pressing enter and slumping back onto the countertop with a sigh that did something daring to the hem of his old t-shirt she wore. The flimsy cotton barely concealed the lace of her panties, and all Lewis focus was on not giving into the urge to rip the shirt right off her.

He cleared his throat, the sound making her head snap up. A smile, as bright as the California sun, chased away the fatigue on her face. "Lew! You’re up" she exclaimed, flinging her arms open.

As he crossed the distance between them, her hand met him halfway, instinctively settling on his lower abdomen. The touch making his gaze drop to where her thumb rest near his boxers.

"Morning beautiful" he greeted, his voice husky with sleep and something more. He captured her arm by the elbow, his fingers brushing against the soft skin and moving her fingers from his naked chest.

"I fucking love those glasses on you," he murmured his voice dropping to a low growl. His eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, were dark with desire.

Y/n chuckled; a breathy sound laced with amusement. "Sorry to disappoint, babe," she said, her voice teasing. "Looks like our plans for a slow morning in bed just went out the window."

The playfulness in her eyes only stirred him on. "It's Sunday, love" he murmured, leaning in close. His breath tickled her ear as he spoke, sending a delicious shiver down her spine. "My plans definitely involve you" he continued, "but they can be done anywhere"

He reached past her, his hand hovering over the mouse on her laptop. "What are you even doing up so early dealing with work emails?"

"You wouldn't believe it," Y/n sighed, rolling her eyes theatrically. "Apparently, Europe is still eight hours ahead, and some people think weekends are prime time for micromanaging."

Lewis grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Sounds like someone needs a new boss," he said, shutting down her computer with a decisive snap.

"Whoa!" Y/n squeaked, reaching for the machine in a mock panic.

He easily overpowered her by holding her wrists above her head, his body pressing against hers. The sudden closeness of his chest to her back pulled a ragged breath from both.

"Relax, love," he said, his voice husky with desire on the back of her head. "I’m gonna make you forget work even exists"

He pulled her backwards, the t-shirt riding up even higher, revealing a sliver of smooth skin between her stomach and the waistband of her panties.

Her breath hitched as she landed on the cool surface of the counter with her forearms. He caged her body between his legs, and his voice dropped to a whisper near her ear. "Tell me, Mrs. Demanding Boss," he began, his voice dripping with amusement, "how would you like to be appropriately… compensated… for working on a Sunday?"

Y/n bit her lip, her mind a delicious filled with arousal. "Improvised compensation," she finally managed breathless "sounds… promising."

He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest that vibrated against her back. "Improvised, indeed," he agreed, his eyes roaming over her flushed face. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he reached down and got rid of his boxers "Let's make this kitchen a little more interesting, shall we?"

Y/n's pulse quickened, her heart pounding in her chest as she watched, from the corner of her eyes, Lewis's eyes darken with a hunger. He leaned closer, his breath hot against her neck, making her shiver. "You're always so good, babe," he murmured, his hands sliding up her thighs, pushing the oversized t-shirt higher until it bunched around her waist. "Always so ready for me."

She moaned softly, arching her back as his fingers traced the edge of her lace panties. "I had always wondered," she whispered, her voice trembling with anticipation, "what it would feel like to do it here, in the kitchen"

He growled "Your wish is my command" His hands slid under her shirt, skimming over her soft skin. With one swift motion, he turned her around and lifted her onto the island, positioning himself between her legs. "Let’s make that fantasy come true." His eyes met hers in the dark haze she couldn’t look away.

Their mouths met in a searing kiss, all tongues and teeth, each breath stolen between desperate gasps. Y/n's hands roamed over his back and chest, pulling him closer, needing to feel every inch of him. His hands were everywhere, caressing, kneading, exploring.

"Fuck, I do love these glasses on you" Lewis murmured against her lips, his hands tangling in her hair. "You have no idea what you do to me."

She smirked, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. "Show me then" she challenged, her voice a husky whisper.

Without breaking from the kiss, Lewis's hands slipped under her panties, pulling them down her legs and tossing them aside. He ran a finger teasingly along her folds, feeling how wet she was for him. "God, you’re soaked," he groaned in her lips, his thumb circling her clit in slow, torturous circles.

Y/n gasped, her hips bucking involuntarily towards his hand. "Please, Lewis," she whimpered throwing her head back as he watched her face contort, her hands clutching at his shoulders. "I need you."

He didn't need any more encouragement. He pumped his dick a couple times, his member already hard and ready as he lined himself up with her entrance, pausing for just a moment to look into her eyes. "Ready, love?" he asked, his voice strained with desire.

"Yeah" she breathed, her eyes locking with his. "God, yes."

With a powerful thrust, he buried himself inside her at once, both of them gasping and gripping into each other. He set a slow, deliberate pace, each movement deep and controlled, making her feel every inch of him. "This what you wanted?" he panted, his hands gripping at her thighs.

Y/n nodded, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts. "God, just like that." she moaned, her nails digging into his back.

He picked up the pace, hitting her harder and faster, driving. The sound of their bodies clashing together filled the kitchen, mingled with their moans and gasps. "Fuck, Y/n" he groaned, his head dropping to her shoulder. "You’re always so good."

She could feel the pressure building inside her, the tension coiling tighter and tighter. "Lewis," she gasped, her nails raking down his back. "I’m close."

"Come for me, babe," he growled, his pace relentless. "Come all over my cock."

That was all it took. With a cry, Y/n's orgasm crashed over her, her body trembling as pleasure took over. Their moans mingled as Y/n's orgasm crashed over her, her body trembling with the intensity of her release.

But Lewis wasn't done. He slowed down but kept his thrusts steady through her high, his thumb finding her clit and rubbing slow, torturous circles.

"Oh, God" she whimpered, her body still shaking from the aftershocks.

"That's it, babe," he murmured, his voice a low growl. "I want to hear you. Let it all out for me."

Her whimpers turned into desperate cries as his relentless stimulation, her walls continuing to clench around him, making him groan. "Fuck, Y/n" he panted, feeling the tight grip of her pussy.

When her haze finally lifted and her eyes focused back on him, he captured her mouth in a heated kiss. Only then did he slowly pull out, the sensation making them both gasp.

Without missing a beat, he turned her around and bent her over the counter. "Hands on the counter" he commanded; his voice rough with desire.

She complied, arching her back and presenting herself to him. Lewis positioned himself behind her, guiding his cock back into her wet heat. The new angle made her gasp, and he adjusted his angles so that his balls slapped hard against her pussy and clit with every thrust.

"Lew, right there" she moaned, her fingers gripping the edge of the counter.

He started pounding into her, each thrust deeper until he was sure his head was hitting her cervix. "You feel so fucking good," he groaned, his hands gripping her hips tightly. "I'm gonna come, babe"

"Do it" she urged, pushing back against him. "Fill me up."

With a final movement, he buried himself deep inside her, his release exploding through him. His groan mingled with her cries, their bodies shuddering together in the aftermath.

For a few moments, they stayed like that, his lips leaving kisses on her skin as their breaths came out heavy. Finally, Lewis pulled back, pressing a longer kiss to her shoulder. "God, I love you," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her glistening back

Y/n smiled, her eyes shining with love and satisfaction. "I love you too," she whispered, turning and pulling him into another kiss.

She laughed, the sound light and happy. "Definitely not what I had planned for a Sunday morning" she agreed, "but I can’t complain."

Lewis grinned, helping her turn on his arms. "Come here," he murmured, lifting her legs on the island, his hands either side of her. "We're not quite done."

Before she could respond, his mouth when to her core, his hands spreading her thighs. She gasped as his tongue traced the mixture of their releases, the sensation making her shiver. "Lewis" she moaned, her fingers tangling in his braids.

He didn't stop, his tongue lapping at her folds, his hands gripping her hips to keep her from jolting away. The combined taste of them only fueling his pace. His tongue flicked over her clit, and she bucked against his mouth, her whimpers turning into desperate cries.

"Yeah" she panted, her body trembling. "Gonna come again."

He intensified his movements, his tongue and lips working her clit until she shattered around him, her orgasm washing over her. He held her through it, his hands soothing over her thigh.

Finally, he stood, capturing her mouth in a hungry kiss. The taste of their combined orgasm was intoxicating.

When they parted, his eyes were dark with satisfaction. "Well, now we can start our day," he said with a smirk.

Y/n chuckled, breathless and spent. "You are definitely better than coffee at keeping me awake" she replied, her tone teasing.

His arms scooped her up effortlessly. "Let me run a bath for us, love" he said, carrying her towards the bathroom, taking off her glasses halfway through. "I don't want you even thinking about any type of work for the rest of the day."

She wrapped her arms around his neck, nuzzling against him. "Think I can manage that" her voice filled with affection.

He kissed her forehead as they entered the bathroom, setting her down gently. "Good" he murmured, turning on the taps and letting the warm water fill the tub.

As the steam began to rise, Y/n sighed contentedly, leaning into his chest. "Just the way I like it" she said, her eyes sparkling.

Lewis smiled, leaving light kisses on her shoulders. "Just the way I like it too" he echoed, his voice soft and full of promise.

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff @jpgnsf

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[freakyformula]

Special celebration

Summary: Mercedes wins and Toto wants a special celebration.

A/N: This one is short, sorry

Warnings: MDNI, 18+, CNC, praise kink, size kink, creampie

Word count: 1k

You cry out as you feel Toto's thick cock enter your small cunt with force, feeling like you're about to split in two. Usually he'd be gentle and take his time, but not today... Today he was determined to ruin you.

But hey, let's rewind.

You were sat on your high chair at the Mercedes garage, guiding Lewis through the last couple of laps as his race engineer, tapping your pen on the table nervously.

Then feeling of Lewis crossing the finish line in P1 was indescribable.

"That was absolutely phenomenal, Lewis, great job!" You yell through the headphones.

You pull your headphones off as he drivers into the pit lane, running with the team to get a glimpse the winner.

As you're standing below the podium, listening to god save our gracious queen again with tears in your eyes, you feel Toto's, (you know it's his) hand on your hip, pulling you closer to his warmth.

"My office, 10 minutes. Special celebration." He leans down and whispers. You shudder at his words and nod approvingly, crossing your legs in order to avoid your wet patch growing in your panties from soaking through your tight jeans.

Special celebration was the phrase you and Toto used when either of you wanted to do consensual non concent, you had other phrases for other activities too. You found it effective and safe, knowing that Toto wouldn't do anything unless you gave him permission.

You walk up the stairs to his office, and take a few deep breaths, bracing yourself for what's to come.

As you walk up to his office, you knock. No answer. Another knock. You look around, confusion evident on your face. You pull on the door handle and the door slides open. Slowly, you walk into the room with light steps, looking around for signs of Toto.

Suddenly, a hand is wrapped around your mouth, leaving you at the mercy of the unknown person. You hear the man kicking the door shut and fidgeting with the lock. When you get a whiff of his cologne, you recognize it as Toto's, and you instantly relax in his grasp. You definitely felt safe with the man, having set boundaries early on in your relationship.

He picks you up with one arm and throws the pens and papers on his desk to the floor, placing you down instead. He quickly pulls his already unbuttoned shirt off and ties it around your wrists, leaving you at his mercy. He makes quick work of your jeans, pulling them down your slender legs, and accidentally rips your shirt open, having no time to unbutton it.

He moves his gaze and fingers down between your legs and feels your wetness through your panties. He lets out a low grunt at the feeling, knowing that he did this to you, he had this effect on you and your sopping pussy.

Then he turns you around, with your back to him leaving your ass exposed. He starts caressing your ass cheeks, parting them, taking a look at your asshole and pussy from this perspective. The feeling is ecstatic and you buck your hips in order to relieve the desperation you're feeling. You stop immediately when you feel a nasty slap on your left buttcheek.

"Stop that immediately." He growls in your ear, and slaps your right cheek to make it even.

You hear the clinging of his belt and you swear you could cum then and there.

"What are you doing to me?" You ask with a innocent face.

"I'm gonna fuck you now, hmmm? I need you to just take it."

As you feel his rock hard member between your lips, you shudder, knowing that you're gonna be in pain in a minute. He slides it up and down a couple of times, collecting your slick and teasingly pressing his tip into your small hole.

You cry out as you feel Toto's thick cock enter your small cunt with force, feeling like you're about to split in two. Usually he'd be gentle and take his time, but not today... Today he was determined to ruin you.

You cry out brokenly, sobbing in pain. Toto gives you no time to adjust to his size and starts pumping you without mercy.

"Toto... Hurts-" You manage to get out from your wide open gape.

"Are you gonna be a good girl and take my cock?" He asks, making sure you're okay with it at the same time.

"I'm going to be a good girl, Toto." You confirm. His pace is unforgiving and you can't help flinching away from him in pain. "Please Toto, stop, it hurts!" You try to make him stop.

He pulls out, taking you by surprise. Afraid that he'd taken your words literally, you look back at him. He looks back at you and tuts as he pulls your black lace panties down your legs. When his cock finds its way inside you again you let out an audible grunt. Toto stuffs your panties into your mouth, using it as a gag, as he's tired of hearing your pleads.

He's just here to take what's his, and he will get it. His pace quickens when he feels your pussy tightening, which only means that you're getting close to that sweet release.

"Cum for me, schatzi. Be a good girl for me." He pleads, out of breath.

His words push you over the edge and you feel Toto's hands around your neck and mouth, doing his best to silence you. Toto enjoyed the challenge of fucking in his office, knowing that his employees were walking by right outside. And honestly, you enjoyed it too, even if you never thought you would.

And just like that, his impending orgasm was triggered by your tightening walls around his pulsating cock and he filled your cunt up with his white cream. He pressed all of him inside of you, wanting his cum to reach as far inside as possible.

You collapsed on his desk together, tired from the days events. Toto let's out a sigh of content. "I hope I didn't hurt you?"

You giggle. "I won't be able to walk for days!"

"That's okay... I can carry you." He softly kisses your temple.

[mistriavalley]

A night to remember (Shane x reader)

TW: 18+ MDNI, smut, farmer has a vagina, fingering, farmer receives oral, being caught in the act, mentions of alcohol, Shane and farmer consume alcohol, established relationship, English is not my first language

Masterlist

It was a packed Friday night at the saloon and the buzzing of the crowd made it hard to have a proper conversation. Shane and you shared a small table in the far corner and screamed in each other's ears so you could understand one another.

His beer glass was empty, while your own drink was still half full. It was too damn hot in here and the alcohol didn't make it any more bearable. From the moment you had sat down, you had been waving a thin napkin to create some cool air.

Shane had casually put his arm around you on the backrest and leaned over until his lips touched your ear.

"Is it okay if I order another beer before we leave?"

You just nodded, too exhausted to shout back an answer. It would take you a while to finish your glass anyway.

As your boyfriend got up and made his way to the bar, you exhaled softly. Normally you liked having Shane so close to your side, especially since he often had trouble showing affection in public, but his body heat only made the already high temperature in the saloon worse.

After a few minutes he returned again, his full glass of beer in his hand. His thigh pressed against yours as he sat back down and he put his arm around you once more. No matter how much you were sweating at the moment, you didn't want to distance yourself from him.

You both stayed silent for a long time as you worked on your drinks until Shane leaned closer to your ear. His large hand found its way to your thigh and he traced his thumb over your leg in a circular motion.

His every touch lit a fire in your lower stomach and you practically melted away. But now that you were in public, you did your best to hide your arousal.

"Do you want to go to my place tonight? Jas is sleeping over at Vincent's and it looks like Marnie will be here for a while. We'd have the place for ourselves for once.", he suggested and your eyes scanned the room.

Yes, there on the complete other side was Marnie with a drink in her hand. By all appearances, she was deep in conversation with Lewis and it looked as if she was completely oblivious to what was going on around her.

After a moment's thought, you gave Shane a nod and left the saloon while he took care of the bill. The cool, crisp night air hit you like a slap in the face. A very pleasant slap, if you could say so yourself, considering you felt like you had just escaped from a sauna.

As you brushed the hair away from the back of your neck to feel a little more of the cold breeze, your boyfriend appeared by your side. With his hand placed on your lower back, you walked towards the ranch.

But with every second that passed, you grew more impatient. Your head was filled with images of Shane on top of you, behind you and inside you. Preferably in every possible position, actually.

While he fumbled frustratedly with his key chain to find the right one for the front door, your hands found a way to his face. You gently turned his head in your direction to place your lips on his.

Your kiss quickly escalated, however, as he groaned in despair and pressed you against the door with his body. With one of his hands free, he was still searching for the right key.

"Shit, man. Where is that fucking thing?", he muttered in annoyance and you fished your own key out of your jacket pocket. Shane had given it to you a few months ago as a sign that he was serious about you and your relationship.

His eyes widened at the sight of the object and he pressed a grateful kiss to your mouth.

"Yoba, that's so sexy of you.", he blurted out and you laughed.

As soon as you were through the door, he basicslly ripped your clothes off. His lips left yours only to assault your neck to bite, lick and suck on it. Like a madman, his hands roamed all over your body, squeezing every soft spot until they were on your butt and he lifted you up.

You squealed in surprise as he carried you into the kitchen. The only light source was the small lamp over the sink, drowning the room in a warm, orange color.

With a single sweeping motion of his arm, he carelessly threw everything off the dining table and sat you down on the surface.

"Wait, what? Here?", you asked with uncertainty in your voice, and he placed his hips between your legs.

His hard cock was pressing against the large wet spot on your underwear and you felt all hot and dizzy. Your whole body was crying out for this man.

"If I had it my way, I'd fuck you on every piece of furniture in this house.", he whispered in your ear. His warm breath tickled your skin and you automatically arched your back, pressing your chest against him.

His fingers wandered down your stomach and you let out a soft moan.

"Fuck, you're so wet.", he exclaimed in a low voice.

As he played with your clit, you threw your head back and closed your eyes. A contented sigh escaped your lips as he pushed the soft fabric of your underwear to the side to get better access.

Shane dropped down on his knees and buried his head between your legs while his tongue eagerly licked your pussy. He drank you up like a thirsty man who'd been lost in the desert for weeks.

An all too familiar knot formed in your lower stomach and you knew you were about to come at any moment. Your hands grabbed desperately at his hair and you tugged it, earning a needy groan from him.

The closer you got to your climax, the more desperately you moved your hips against his mouth.

"I'm almost there...oh my Yoba...yes!"

But before you were granted that oh so sweet release, the front door opened with a squeak. Shane and you froze up in this position and you exchanged startled glances.

Giggles, moans and wet kissing noises filtered through the hallway to the kitchen and Shane's entire face contorted in disgust as he recognized his aunt's voice.

"Oh, Lewis...", she moaned passionately and the kitchen light got turned on.

Shane quickly jumped up and threw his joja jacket that had ended up on the floor earlier over your naked torso. With his own stature, he covered the rest of your exposed body.

"Shane!", Marnie cried out in horror and quickly closed the open buttons of her blouse. You glanced over Shane's shoulder to look at the pair that had walked in on you two.

Embarrassed, you waved at them.

"Hello, Mayor Lewis. Hello, Marnie."

All the color had drained from their faces and Shane looked like he wanted to throw up right then and there.

"Neither of you will say a word about this, do you understand?", Lewis demanded and Shane and you nodded your head hastily.

You were pretty sure that no one would ever mutter a word about what just happened, let alone think about it.

[sseomtada]

stick [lewis hamilton]

you show lewis how to drift like a local.

warnings: 18+++ | wc: 5872 | part: 1/1

a/n: this was supposed to be finished in time for suzuka. anyways..do Not tell my dad why i really asked about his driving days...#pureresearch

“I keep hearing the word hashiriya, what does it mean?”

His question came as you hiked through the narrow path he’d been apprehensive to take at first. You didn’t blame him for that. If someone you’d reached out to only a few months ago on Instagram offered to take you to an obscure location in a foreign country in the middle of the night, you’d be constantly looking over your shoulder too.

“That’s what they call us, street racers. Well, not you.” You squinted at dim lights in the distance. “We’re almost there.”

He scoffed in disbelief. “Am I not?”

Your steps quickened in an effort to leave the chilly air and meet the engines purring not too far off.  Lewis was right beside you, his ears perking up when he registered the sound as well. It made his shoulders relax.

“Someone who drives in a highly regulated series that leaves no room for imagination or creativity is not hashiriya.” You laughed.

“Hey! I drift a little too…” He joined in.

Just before reaching your destination, you stopped and stepped in front of him. If he didn’t want to completely stick out like a sore thumb, some pretext had to be given. You were also vouching for him. So the last thing you wanted was to be teased by your group for bringing a full fledged newbie on their run.

You held out a hand. When Lewis looked at you with confusion, you sighed and grabbed one of his. The way your dad taught you was a mix of tactile and visual. Something about that always worked better for you and seemed to for the other drivers you helped.

“What you do is more manji, that’s when you fishtail or high speed drift.” Your finger moved down the middle of his palm, veering off left at his knuckle.

His eyes followed and then met yours. “Is that not what we’re doing here?”

“In my team, we do choku dori. It’s like sliding back and forth.” You zig-zagged your finger down his whole palm. “To do this style you need to have complete control, full trust in the car and yourself, and a bit of madness.”

Lewis nodded, but the tension had returned to his shoulders.

“We’ll do a few runs at the port before heading out.” Your hand closed around his, squeezing reassuringly. “Any other questions?”

“Actually, yes.” He aimed a thumb back at the direction you walked. “Why did we park down there?”

That made you smile sheepishly. The thing about what you were doing was that it technically wasn’t legal, and by that you meant it fully wasn’t. Drifting itself was permitted by law, but ripping through Osaka’s narrow, weaving mountain public roads? No so much.

“It’s a safety precaution incase the cops show up. Some stay behind to use the road cars to bail us out. We hide them because of plates and registrations - don’t need those present in a lot with a bunch of tire marks.” You tried to explain in a way that wouldn’t make him too anxious.

Ya!

The greeting echoed from your leader who waved from the hood of his car. You returned it and began to jog over. When Lewis was noticeably trailing further behind than before, you spun with a cheeky grin, goading:

“You coming or not, pretty boy?”

His laid back demeanor immediately returned at the name you’d jokingly began calling him after his initial DM. It was the first thing that came to your mind. Professional drivers in F1 were so polished with their well maintained images and brand deals, far from anything in your world. On top of that, well, he was objectively gorgeous.

Lewis caught up, challenging gaze meeting your own. He looked like he was contemplating a comeback that would make you eat your words. Ultimately, he knew just like you did the only way he could do that was behind the wheel.

Everyone size him up as he came into view. They were aware of who he was, but his status meant nothing in this crowd. He received respectful greetings and that was about as far as it went for acknowledgement. If he wanted the same praise he got on race weekends, he’d have to earn it.

Turbo charged engines fire up all around you. Gasoline and clutch fluid fused into the crisp, cool air, burning tires soon marring the sky with smoke. You crept up on your mechanic who jumped, nearly banging his head on the underside of your open hood.

“How’s she looking?” The last run was pretty taxing, you’d barely lugged it back to the garage before stalling.

“Like 90’s Pam Anderson after the improvements.” He smoothed his hand over your black Silvia.

Your eyes rolled, “What do you have for my friend?”

“TO4Z HK5 freshly installed in this san ni.” He motioned at the Skyline next to your car.

Lewis took a walk around to check out the vehicle. You saw him smile as he noticed the paint job was fresh, body now wrapped in a deep purple. It made you jealous. Your car still wore some of the scars from the last barrier you kissed.

“Let’s see what you got!” You hurled in his direction as you slid into your driver’s seat.

Vibrations shot through your body once you started her up. Since you were just testing how she felt more than anything, you didn’t push much. The rears were working just like you wanted them to. They grappled for traction on the straights and as you swung left, you got the perfect amount of oversteer to whip into the night’s first drift.

Behind you, Lewis was stressing his own cylinders. You cut your engine and leaned out of your window to watch him. He was admittedly good, better than you expected. To go from handling a car where a sliding rear was an issue to one where it was essential, and to do so with precision, wasn’t a small feat. He rounded off his practice run with a Scandinavian flick that resembled your own, though he was a bit shakier on the entrance.

“Wanna try something with me?” Your finger ran along the edge of his window.

“Sure, what?” Lewis breathed heavily, still on a high from having his body thrown about.

“Tsuisou.” Your cheeks rose.

It was tandem, when two cares drifted together. With his skill level, you think he was ready to have a go at it. Practicing extra precision would also help him when you took to the steep, weaving road.

He looked unsure at the suggestion, which was actually a good thing. If he had been too eager to give it a shot, you might’ve changed your mind. It was among the most dangerous forms of drifting should drivers lose control. You had faith in him though.

“Think about it as a dance. Just follow my lead.” Your hand gave his door a pat before you jogged back to your car.

She was in way better condition than the last time you drove her, another reason you wanted to do this. You shot down the lot’s makeshift circuit and swung your car into the first corner. Right as your instincts signaled that you’d reached the limit before you’d spin out, you straightened up to build momentum.

You continued. Drift left, drift right, left once more and straighten. Once you’d completed your lap, you pulled up beside Lewis and caught his eye. He gave you a thumbs up. With a wolfish grin, you peeled off again.

Your car was half a length in front of his and then cleared it with about that width in between. As soon as you pulled the wheel right to swing the Silvia out in the opposite direction, he did the same to his Skyline. The short left drift entered a long right and into an even more extended left as you both turned the corner.

He was nearly there, his front windows level with your back. Going into the next turn, you repeated the same action - short left for the set up, long right to really provide the push and then, magic.

Lewis lined up perfectly beside you. For a split second, right in the heart of the corner, your front windows were level with your cars barely a few feet apart. You swore you heard him cackling loudly before you tore down the straight to prepare for the next one.

The feeling was exhilarating. There was no space in your mind for worries that stressed you out on the daily when the beast of a machine you wielded demanded every inch of it. The freedom in those seconds you let the car just be all that it is, your hands hovering barely an inch above the wheel while in full lock, was incomparable.

And getting to do that alongside him made this night one of the best in your life.

Everyone turned their high beams on, signaling that they were headed out. In your rear view, you could see Lewis brimming with excitement. A far cry from the man who looked so apprehensive on your walk through the desire path carved wilderness earlier.

Soon, Osaka’s night sky was buzzing with a hive of engines combing through its mountains. Rocky hillside blurred by your vision on the right while shining barriers leading to the forests’ black abyss went by on your left.

A symphony a cars played out to no other witnesses but the ones behind their wheels. Every inch on either side of the tarmac was used as you slid, never feeling fear creep in even as your Silvia’s nose threatened to meet the apex of a bend.

Once uphill, you followed the leaders who burned puffs of smoke while hard breaking in preparation to go back down. The large hand break lever found itself under your forceful grip to spin your car in a one eighty to a full stop.

You leaned out of your window once Lewis pulled up behind you in the same manner to shout:

“This is the fun part, pretty boy!”

With that, you dropped the clutch and your rears broke traction. Going downhill was like opening yourself up to the world, a rollercoaster in the most maddening sense. Your speedometer had been rendered useless by the controlled chaos of your speedy free fall. You imagined this was what a deity felt like as your hands guided the car to become a pendulum.

Down the hill, hazards before you flashed in warning to slow. You did the same for Lewis trailing close behind and finally took a second to breathe. A sense of ease filled your racing heart while you passed by some of the others drivers. Aside from one hanging rear fender and a few broken tail lights, everyone would be making it back home in one piece.

“So, what did you think of your first real drifting experience?” You asked Lewis while you drove him back to his hotel.

“I honestly can’t even find the words it’s…” His eyes reflected the city’s lights. “Brutal and beautiful all at the same time.”

That was a good way to describe the craft in many senses. The cars themselves were crude instruments on the inside, often chimeras of sorts with mismatched parts and missing pieces traditionally found in vehicles. That was hard to tell from the exterior. The group you ran with took pride in expressing their creativity through vibrant wraps, lights and embellishments.

Drifting itself was nothing short of vicious. Tires were shredded through like paper and engines with decade long lifespans were shortened to about half that. But the moments you created with car, that raw, incomparable sense of liberation achieved when you weaved - would last until your dying breath.

“Now you sound like a hashiriya.” You beamed proudly.

He chuckled and settled into his seat, head nestled comfortably against its rest. It wasn’t long until you pulled up to his fancy accommodation. You expected nothing less of an F1 driver than staying at the W.

“Are you tired?” Your gazed raked down the column of his neck.

“Not remotely.” Lewis cracked an eye in your direction. “If you’re not, do you wanna join me for a drink?”

You squinted. “But you don’t.”

“I never said it had to be alcoholic.” His retort came cheekily.

He’d clearly been waiting for his turn to one up you with banter. You were anything but a sore loser though and would never argue when you were wrong. The keys to your road car ended up in the hands of a valet as you found yourself the one walking with timidness into his arena.

It hit you rather belatedly that there was no need to be self-conscious. At this time of night, any censorious glares you might’ve received were absent. There was no one around to make you feel out of place in your oversized clothing.

Steps echoed as you walked with Lewis through the pink lit welcome tunnel through to the lobby with its geometric shaped roof to elevators. The only bar open at this hour would be the one in his suite. You obviously knew that before handing off your car, possible implications included.

To your surprise and his credit, Lewis had been very respectful during your time with him. You were a flirtatious person by nature and it often made you end up having awkward conversations with friends later. He didn’t seem to read too much into your vampish manner of speech. While your energy was met, no boundaries were ever crossed by him.

“Are your views always like this?” You gawked once entering.

Your feet quickly slipped out of your sneakers before you raced to the three paneled floor to ceiling windows. The room was so high up that you cleared the top of every other sky scraper around, their lights glimmering like thousands of stars.

“I want to say yes, but not always.” He chuckled. “Sometimes it’s nothing except clear skies and the bluest water you’ve ever seen.”

You scoffed and turned to face the main living area. Aside from the table with two high stools you were perched at, there was a sofa and a round accent chair. You flopped down onto the buttery leather couch while he popped out some glasses.

“Water, soda or sparkling juice?” Lewis listed your options.

“Juice all the way.” Something sweet but not as saccharine as soda would go down good.

He poured your requested beverage and chose the same as well before coming over to join you where you sat. Your glasses clinked with a quick cheers, the drink going down smoothly despite its bubbles.

Lewis picked your mind about how you got into your own form of racing, which was a stark contrast to your actual job. Like many of the other guys on the scene, the origins of your obsession was found in your father.

Every free moment he had away from his main responsibilities were spent on building out his car and taking it to the tracks on weekends. Your mom was extremely supportive of his driving, that being the reason she even took him up on an offer for a date.

Once you were old enough, he began taking you out to races with her. Not exactly your typical family Friday night, but it was perfect in your eyes. Your first time behind the wheel came a short while after you’d gotten your license. He was right there to guide you slowly, teaching you all you needed to know until you were ready to fly solo.

“How many times have you crashed?” Lewis raised a brow.

You blew a puff of air. “Many, maybe about twenty? I’ve completely wrecked two cars.”

“At least yours aren’t broadcasted worldwide.” He laughed, stretching his arms across the back of the sofa.

“No,” Your knees tucked in so that you sat more comfortably too. “Some were recorded though.”

“Oh, I know.” Lewis shot you a sly glance.

You felt heat rise in your body, mouth dropping open. What an absolute mortifying discovery. Crashes were just a part of the sport, but knowing that he’d somehow found footage showing one of your worst runs didn’t do much to appease your ego.

“Where did you even find that?” You ducked your head slightly.

It wasn’t necessarily an easy task to find videos of your racing online. There were still the odd forums that local drifters used to post clips of meets, but none of them were in English. You would’ve never guessed that he would stumble across one.

“I’m pretty good at falling down rabbit holes when I’m interested in a topic.” His finger tapped your shoulder.

Your eyes were drawn to the touch. You hadn’t even noticed that you’d shifted closer as the conversation continued, your legs angling to face him. Having him this near made your mind go back to a question you’d been wanting to ask, but always shied away from. There was no better time than now to find out while you were face to face.

“There are so many others with more experience, so why’d you reach out to me?” You asked softly, perhaps nervous about how he would reply.

“I went through so many videos and they were all impressive of course, but just in the way that made you think this is cool.” Lewis scratched his beard. “Then I came across a race from two years ago. The driver looked out of their league a bit, clearly up against someone who’d been doing it for a long time. There was this sense though, like they were the predator instead of the prey. And then they did this pass while drifting, so close that only a hair separated the cars, and I thought man, I need to learn from them.”

As soon as he mentioned that, you knew exactly what he was talking about. It was your famous touge, mountain pass, that went viral in an underground sense. Up until that point, you’d never pushed a car that hard but you had to because he was right, your opponent was tough and well respected.

The only way you would beat them to the finishing point was if you pulled out something exceptional. Overtaking while driving downhill on a winding mountain road curve was about as ballsy as it got. You still felt the tightness in your chest, one slip up could’ve sent your both through the guardrails and into nothingness. That was definitely top three in your driving history.

“I wasn’t expecting that answer, but I’m deeply honored.” You rested your chin on your knees.

“What did you think was my reason, then?” His dark eyes scrunched at their edges.

“Hmm, I don’t know…” Your head tilted. “I thought maybe you just wanted a cute girl to show you around.”

“Just because I didn’t add that in doesn’t mean it’s not true.” Lewis didn’t miss a beat.

There was that heat again. Though this time, the reason for its rising was far from embarrassment. It was also the first time you felt yourself flush from a flirty exchange between you two. The atmosphere probably had a lot to do with that.

“So you’re admitting that you think I’m cute?” You found yourself the one testing where the line was.

He shook his head. “You’re way more than that.”

You towed the line a little more, eyes dancing between his own and his mouth as you leaned in. Lewis met you halfway. His lips pressed to yours, sucking them in slightly before he pulled just out of reach.

Your eyes fluttered open to catch his on you, studying the way they clouded over for him. It only lasted a second. You shut them again and dove back in to kiss him once more, with conviction this time around.

He tasted of citrus and felt like the fine bristles of your hairbrush under your fingertips that glided over his jaw. You let your knees fall to the sofa so that you could bring your chest to his, shuddering as one of his warm palms worked up your back.

Lewis nipped at your bottom lip, teeth dragging the soft skin down gently until your mouth opened to welcome his tongue. Shocks went all the way down to your sock covered toes that curled in response to the feeling of it sliding against your own. When he traced the center of your tongue with the tip of his, you groaned with a filthy thought. What would that feel like between your legs?

He pulled you over to straddle him, letting you feel something else in that spot for now. Despite the layers of clothes still separating your bodies, you felt him hardening. That only grew more and more pronounced as you ground your hips into him whilst your tongues twisted - just like your panties grew in stickiness.

“I need you to touch me.” You rasped, forehead pressing to his.

“Show me where.” His breathed into your mouth.

You used your hand to guide one of his beneath the two waistbands until you met skin. Lower they went together and then you hissed when the spot was met. You piloted his digits over your swollen clit in deep, slow circles. Once he picked up the rhythm you craved, your hand retreated.

His cock strained beneath your rotating hips that pressed forward enough for his touch to provide him a bit of relief as he pleased you. You kissed his neck, licking and sucking at the throbbing vein running along its side. Lewis moved his ring finger down to tease your hole and your eyes crossed.

“Yes…” You whined.

He brushed his lips against your temple, letting the digit slip into your walls. You gasped at how easily you welcomed it, coating him with your slick, squeezing as you silently pleaded for more.  He withdrew and switched his positioning to give you just that - index and middle now tucked into you while his thumb played with your clit.

You pulled him in for a searing kiss, moans floating from the back of your throat. The fingers in your pussy curled and straighten in a motion that beckoned you to come undone for him. You’d been doing that from the moment your lips met. All of that combined with the way he still kept that torturously slow circle on your stiffened nerves, and the ball of his hand pressed against your lower belly had you leaning over the edge.

“Gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” Lewis murmured.

That threw you tumbling into bliss.

You bit down on his shoulder to suppress your cries and gasps, knees squeezing his hips as you came. Your body trembling over his uncontrollably in the same way it did when you maxed out your engine while in full lock.

“That’s it…” He stroked your hair.

A trail of wetness was left behind on your skin as his hand made a reappearance. Lewis dipped his soaked fingers into his mouth, offering you a taste from his thumb. Your lips closed around it, tongue swirling to collect every trace of yourself before you did the same in a kiss.

He grabbed your ass and stood up, your arms and legs immediately locking around him. You were met with an even more stunning view of Osaka. The bedroom seeming to float in the sky above its gritty infrastructure. It only received a second of your attention though.

You let Lewis undress you from head to toe. He freed your hair from its tie, letting it sprawl like spilled ink across the white duvet after your shirt and bra were removed. You raised your hips to let him get the remainder of your layers, left shuddering under the change in temperature and the eyes that raked over your form.

“God, look at you.” Lewis revered.

You followed his hands that cupped and massaged your breasts, erecting your nipples to their peak. Then down to your stomach and the apex of your thighs. He tugged you to the edge of the bed, kneeling as he marveled at your open, glistening center.

The deep inhale you took would be your last for a while. Even as he tested your readiness with small pecks against your other set of lips, your breaths caught short. You no longer had to wonder what the move he did earlier in your mouth would feel like as he made it a reality, his tongue dragging down your clit to your hole.

Your toes curled against the sheets, legs opening wider for him. Lewis flicked at your entrance before making an arch back up to your pulsating clit. You lost sight of everything, eyes closing while he mapped out your most sensitive parts. Once he knew which areas made your back bow, your abs tighten and your lips part with praise, he hit them consecutively without pause.

He closed his mouth around your cunt, lips keeping your folds parted. There was more than enough ruin for him to play with. Some of it swallowed, the rest of it sucked and spat back onto your clit that throbbed under his tongue’s unrelenting laps.

“Fuck, I’m-“ Your head lifted to catch his eyes already looking back.

You let out a prolonged whine, falling down to the bed again. One hand crept up to your breast, twisting your nipple while the other pushed his head deeper into your pussy. His moan reverberated through you, tongue prodding at your hole in anticipation.

There was no way to hide the noise that ripped its way out of you the second time around. Your head gnashed against the duvet, throat burning as you released a wave of cum into his mouth. Lewis held your thighs that threatened to clamp shut, widening them to keep you bared to him.

“You taste so good,” He slurped lewdly. “Can I have some more?”

Though you wanted to tell him to take as much as he wanted, all you could do was moan and nod. Lewis dove back in to eat you out like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to this plane of existence, your eyes fluttering to the ceiling dimly lit by the city lights below.

He let a hand join in on this occasion. His fingers sank into your hole to their knuckles and dragged their way back out, a glistening thread connecting you two. You watched his tongue curl around the tie before he brought the digits down over your clit with a sharp tap. Electricity shot through you, your mouth opening to let out a puff of air.

“Again, harder.” You panted.

A devilish smile crossed his lips while he did what was asked. A wet smack filled your ears as he spanked your pussy. You jostled, clenched and groaned, writhing beneath him with your bottom lip caught between your teeth.

“Again.” You slurred.

Lewis fulfilled your wish, giving it one firm slap that left you levitating. All you saw was white. Your fingers bunched up the sheets on either side of your hips as you sucked in short breaths. And when he put his mouth over where his hand had just been, applying the slightest pressure, you gave him what he wanted too.

You found inhuman strength to retreat your legs from his grip, tucking them until you sat up on your knees. He stood up as you kissed him wildly. Your palms grazed along his beard that was soaked in you before sliding down to gather his shirt.

It joined your heap of clothing on the floor while you worked at his pants, lips trailing down his tattooed torso. Lewis stepped out of his final layers to join you in full undress. What a marvelous being he was, every inch carved to perfection. Especially the ones you took into your hand greedily.

He hissed as you slowly tugged on his cock with fingers that couldn’t even meet around its thickness. Your tongue laid flat over your bottom lip before you brought it to meet his tip, tapping it onto the wet, warm muscle.

The sound he made was just as alluring as he was. You wanted to draw out more of them. So you took him into your mouth and began to move back and forth, working your way down his length each time.

“Just like that, angel.” He groaned.

Lewis threaded his fingers through your hair, neck baring as his head dropped back with a drawn out moan. The sight and tone of him added to flood he left between your thighs. You dared to go further, jaw slackening to take his cock to the point that made you gag.

He retreated slightly, but you reeled him in. You wanted him to feel the softness of the back of your throat, to get lost in it. Air escaped through your nose while you kept him there, bobbing and choking until you reached your limit.

You reared back with a burning inhale, watering eyes locked on his. He ducked his head to kiss you gently, tongues colliding and combining the tastes of you both. Your arms circled his neck, fingers playing with his braids as you brought his body down on top of your own.

In a swift move, you had him on his back. Lewis moaned against your lips at the sensation of you sliding your wet pussy over his cock. You couldn’t help but do the same. It felt so much better without obstruction - fire to your flame, hard to your soft.

“I need to feel you before I go mad.” His heavy gaze peered up at you.

You were on the same page, had been since you ruined your panties on the sofa. Your hips rose and you took hold of him, lining his cock up with your entrance. It was a huge ask of your walls to let him in without protest, but all the work he’d done earlier made it possible.

Still, you gasped against the burn as you expanded to fit around his girth. You dropped one thigh and moved steadily, going past the head to about halfway down. Lewis held onto your waist to help you ease onto his length that slowly disappeared the more you circled your hips.

When you were ready, you released the tension in your other thigh and took him whole. Curses fell past your lips as you bucked your hips that now rested flush against his. You raised them up a bit, your pussy gripping his cock hungrily.

���Fuck, you fill me up so-“ Your words and train of thought became tangled.

He was tucked so deep, stretching your little cunt out so much. It was intoxicating, possessing. You found yourself going further up each time you bounced until he was nearly slipping out. Lewis was a moaning mess under you, eyes screwed shut as the sound of your wetness spilling onto him filled the room.

Your fingers dug into his shoulders, pace speeding up. Each time he bottomed out, your pussy swallowing him whole, you cried out. Then he joined in, thrusting up into you as you came down and you lost it.

All you could do was announce to anyone who dare listened I’m cumming, I - please, keep fucking me like that. Your body quivered and you rocked into him, determined to see just how much you had left.

Lewis fought through your clenching walls, grunting as he pinned you to his chest with his arms circling your lower back. Your lips dragged against any bit of skin they could find, teeth grazing to spell out the things you were too fucked out to say.

When he strokes slowed, you took in a shuddering breath. He rolled until you were on your back and pulled out. You whimpered at his absence, but found solace in the kisses he placed from your nipples to your navel.

“You doing okay?” He massaged your thighs.

“Yeah,” You smiled down at him. “Get back in here.”

Lewis chuckled softly, planting a kiss on your hip before he turned you onto your side. Your back pressed to his chest as he spooned you and tilted your head to allow his tongue to twist with your own. The flesh on your leg stood to attention in wake of his touch. You raised it so that he could tuck himself into where you both wanted him to be again.

What a relief it was. The mild ache you felt eased with his languid thrusts, each ending in a satisfied hum. Your head fell to his arm that cradled it. All the energy you had left was harvesting again where he touched you, his fingers finding that same pace they kept at the start of everything.

“Look at us,” Lewis sucked your neck. “How well we fit together.”

Your gaze tilted downward, but it was difficult to see from that angle. He shook his head, teeth pulling on your earlobe as he whispered to focus your eyes ahead. There was a mirror facing the bed that you hadn’t noticed.

Though the lighting was dim, you saw the entirety of what he meant. Your swollen, heaving chest that he kneaded and his cock sliding into your cunt deeply, coming out coated in your hot ether. It was the most prurient sight you’d ever seen - both lips parted, his gaze wandering between them and your own - and all too much to bear.

Instead of your end slamming into you with the force of a freight train, it came calmly yet no less powerfully. Like a breeze that shifted leaves, you were swept up and carried. Gravity defied until you swayed back down to earth, to his arms.

Your eyelids peeled open just as his screwed shut. Lewis pulled out and emptied his cum onto his stomach with a chord that would play in your mind for eternity. Your heart raced in the aftermath, galloping erratically to find its rhythm again. Hard to do when he took your mouth in his with a kiss that still managed to make your raw core throb.

You found your place again in his arms after a detour to freshen up. His hand ran soothingly down your spine as you cuddled into his chest. The lights had disappeared, sun beginning to rise over the city. Osaka’s skyline was something of a contradiction - steel and clouds, mountains in the distance.

Brutal and beautiful.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 31

Bravern (and Lewis Smith) + unconventional

I had NO idea what to call this honestly, cuz I had already used size difference earlier and Braverns like 9 meters tall. I love this big bot, and I just wanted to finish kinktober even if I finished it late, so here we go.

Yall should watch Bang Brave Bravern so we can talk about it, it’s really good. Giant gay robot 👍

Some Bravern spoilers, so if you wanna watch it first, go do that. Its only 12 episodes. No outright smut in this one cuz I couldn’t figure out how to do it?

Kinktober 2024 masterlist

Having a giant robot for a boyfriend was… different than your past relationships. Well, dating Lewis had been normal and all, but then he became a giant robot that reminded you of something out of Hollywood. You could already hear him whining that it wasn’t Hollywood but more so the mecha genre of Japanese superhero shows.

It was a bit of a mind fuck, or maybe a very big mind fuck. It felt kinda like having two boyfriends, but not really since they were the same guy, not again, not really. Lewis was still around, as himself, but he was also there, as Bravern. It also felt a bit like cheating, since no one but you had figured out who Bravern truly was.

But how could you not clock it immediately, when Lewis had spent hours telling you how his mecha would look, if he was in one of his shows or manga, back when you were both still in military training. You had never really gotten the gist of it, but it made Lewis happy. This also meant you easily went along with Halloween costumes he wanted to do, especially since seeing you in some sentai hero suit always got him so hot and bothered.

But, back to Bravern. It was almost impossible to meet up secretly with a robot, mecha, this big. He barely fit into the warehouse set up for him. Hed started stuttering over his words when you showed up saying you wanted to talk, and really, how could you not recognize your own boyfriend when he did that.

In the end, you coldly and seriously told him you knew his secret, making Bravern gulp, could mecha even gulp? But, before you knew it, Bravern had shifted into a ship? Car? Thing? And told you to get in so you could talk privately.

After getting the whole situation from him, part of you couldn’t help but be hurt that you weren’t his pilot. Why was Isami so great, when you were right there? Bravern, Lewis? Seemed to recognize your hurt feelings immediately, and scooped you up as carefully as one with a jellyfish in his giant metallic hands.

He immediately started apologizing in ways you knew so well, from the times hed accidentally ripped your shirts pulling them on thanks to his impressive pecs, or that time he scratched your car showing off one of the new nerd swords hed bought. You weren’t sure if mecha even could cry, but somehow Bravern looked near tears about it.

Even without pupils you could tell Bravern was looking at you the same way Lewis always did, when he felt like he had messed up and wanted to be forgiven. He always reminded you of a floppy eared golden retriever, and somehow, even as a giant 9-meter tall mecha, he still did.

A long-drawn-out sigh left your lungs as you pinched at the bridge of your nose, the noise making Bravern curl in on himself in such a familiar way. “Lift me closer to your face” you finally muster out, running a hand down your face as Bravern was quick to do so, seemingly not wanting to hurt your feelings even more.

Kissing a giant robot was even weirder, part of you wondering if he could even feel your tiny lips against his massive pair. This was probably how those chicks felt in the transformers fanfiction you sometimes read. What? There is very little male reader stuff, so you take what you can get.

Bravern jolted enough for the ground under you to shake a little, his lips parting for a moment before he pursed them. It was almost comical, to be standing on the palm of his giant hand as he pursed his lips, like some weird princess and the frog mockery, but the princess was a red, white and gold mecha, and the frog was you, in your dirty military uniform.

Placing a hand on his metallic chin kind of reminded you of doing checkups on your titanostrider, except Bravern was, more alive under your touch? It was difficult to explain, and you’d probably give yourself a migraine just thinking about it. You still hadn’t really registered how he was both here as Lewis, and here as Bravern at the same time.

When you kissed Lewis, you would always grab his chin between your pointer and thumb and squeeze it, just enough for him to part his lips so you could slide your tongue inside. Your hands seemed to have the same reaction with Bravern, whose large lips parted slightly. On Lewis it would barely have been noticeable, but as Bravern it was right there.

“Stick your tongue out a little” you mumble, somewhat unsure if he could even hear you, with you standing below his nose and his ears being… wherever they are on a mecha. But Bravern, always being so good no matter what form he was in, stuck the tip of his tongue out between his lips.

Normally, you liked to really coil your tongue around his, knowing it drove Lewis crazy to have all that spit and slobber all over his face and running down his neck. That obviously wasn’t possible, so instead you sank your teeth into the tip of Braverns tongue before sucking it into your mouth.

You hadn’t really had a tongue this big in your mouth before, so you resorted to the same tongue and suckling movements you’d do when you had your mouth around Lewis’s large pecs. There wasn’t a nipple to tease or bite at, so instead you just cranked up the way you rubbed and moved your tongue.

Hearing Bravern moan was so loud, and it surrounded you in a way you hadn’t experienced before. Even the times where you had Lewis sobbing with pleasure in your ear wasn’t like this, but Bravern sounded just as needy. His fingers trembled under you, like he wanted nothing more than to touch you, his lips parting further as his tongue slid more towards you, almost knocking you over.

For a split moment, the mental image of Bravern pulling your clothes off and just licking you flashed before your mind. It made you way too hard to be normal, and you had never had fantasies like that before, so you weren’t gonna acknowledge them more than blaming it on the fact that it was your boyfriend.

Bravern looked ready to eat you, he had that same look in his eyes that Lewis always got when you two were apart for longer periods of time, when he wanted to push you down on the bed and ride you till you felt like one of those scrunched up juice boxes with not even air left inside.

Of course, at that moment, as Braverns tongue neared your torso, did the phone in your pocket ring. Something inside Bravern must have notified him too, of whatever you were being contacted about, as he whined and pouted. “I-im sorry baby, w-we can… continue later” he stumbled, giving you a faint impression that he was looking around like crazy even without pupils.

“Sure. Its probably… important enough” you cough, trying to collect yourself again and pull your uniform back on to fit the standard. Bravern kissed your chest carefully, clearly fearing he might crush you if he pressed any harder.

The flight back to base was a quiet affair, the air thick with a familiar heated feeling. But duty calls, so its not like you could even rub one out in his cockpit and dirty talk him until he came in his pants, codpiece? Could mechas even do that? You didn’t know, but you knew damn well you could make it happen.

Instead, you had to step out of Bravern in his ship form and join the others, brushing off questions about what you had been doing with Bravern. The mecha was so much worse than you when it came to lying, stuttering something about wanting to show you how fast he could go, as Isami climbed inside.

You could feel Lewis staring at you, intensely enough that you had to look back at him. He was biting his lip in that oh so familiar way, his brows furrowed as he stared at your lips. You couldn’t help but reach up and touch them, only then realising they were probably flushed and kissed, making dread pool in your stomach.

But Lewis didn’t seem angry at the aspect that his boyfriend may have been off, making out with a giant robot. Instead, Lewis seemed quite hot about it, if the flush rising in his cheeks and the clear way he was swallowing his spit had anything to say. That… you noted down for later. But first, duty, and then… find a way to make your boyfriend, boyfriends? Kiss, since you knew it would drive them both crazy.

[dear-ao3]

bucket here

I’d just like to note that the instant I sent the ask I started writing in the hopes you would say yes and I like actually squeaked I was so happy when you did and also I’ve been writing nonstop since then so bear with me:

*takes deep breath* Safety restrictions were famously lax in F1 until the 1990s. The deaths of Roland Ratzenberger and Ayrton Senna within days of each other at the 1994 Imola GP sparked a huge movement for new safety systems, especially barrier changes. As Senna and Ratzenburger both died in accidents related to the fact that the safety barriers at the edges of tracks were just CEMENT WALLS, this was a huge push for many teams, drivers, and tracks. No one wanted the death of more legends on their hands. These accidents also inspired additions like headrests in 1996 and the HANS system (head and neck support), put in place in 2003. HANS can be seen when drivers get out of the car — it’s that space-age looking neck brace/strap on their shoulders and helmet.

Some safety systems that are much less talked about are things like the accelerometer, first used in 2014 and placed in the drivers ear. This measures the forces during impacts, and its location in the ear allows both for less invasive placement and accurate data on head/neck movement for drivers. This then leads to better safety systems capable of being studied, reasoned for, and implemented. The addition in 2016 of a camera that faces the driver also allows for safety teams to see exactly how the driver is affected during crashes, as well as giving fans a fun camera angle (which I can rant about as well, camera angles in F1 are a huge thing for me). 

Rapid fire safety systems (there will be a quiz):

Helmets were first introduced in 1952, but not required until 1977.

Seatbelts/racing harnesses required starting 1972.

Fireproof race suits have been required since 1975.

The safety car didn’t even exist until 1993 (trial runs in 1992, first seen in 1973 Canadian GP)

Pit lane speed limit introduced in 1994. Yes, before this they just ripped through as fast as they could; no, the pit crews didn’t stand any further away.

Wheel tethers introduced in 1999 after an unholy amount of incidents going back to pre-1950 (AKA official F1 start) where the wheels just came off and smacked drivers, marshals, and fans, usually killing them instantly.

The most notable safety system recently is the Halo and VSC (virtual safety car). The halo was put in place in 2018 and will hopefully never leave. It has been the savior of hundreds of lives throughout Formula series, but most well known in Formula 1 were Lewis Hamilton (2021 Monza GP, stopped Max Verstappen's car from becoming a permanent fixture in the side of his head) and Romain Grosjean (2020 Bahrain GP, pushed the crash fencing up away from his head as he hit the barriers), as well as possibly Zhou Guanyu (2022 British GP, flipped upside down and up over tire barriers into catch fencing) and Max Verstappen (2021 British GP, incredibly hard hit into a tire barrier — 51G impact at 160 MPH/257 KPH). 

There had been a number of close calls that brought up the possibility of halos, like Fernando Alonso almost having his head removed from this world at Spa in 2012 on lap one, and an incident between Michael Schumacher and Vitantonio Luizzi at Abu Dhabi in 2010 that left Luizzi’s Force India inches from Schumacher’s face.

Unfortunately, it took the horrific death of Jules Bianchi in 2014 at the Japanese GP and a number of junior driver fatalities for the Halo to be finally seriously considered and implimented. Bianchi’s incident also led to the Virtual Safety car, which was put in place in 2015 to keep accidents like his from happening. I can talk more about his incident as well if you’d like. It’s a masterpiece of administrative fuck ups and terrible oversights.

(Ask me about it and camera angles I dare you)

HELLO BUCKET

this is wonderful thank u thank u

i did know a little about the senna crash (tho not the concrete barriers) (i do know that when it happened they were trying to revive the drivers union which is awful) and the bianchi crash (i looked at that quite extensively for update post) but Yeesh yeah the safety stuff is Terrifying. pls. pls tell me about the camera angles.

[rems-writing]

Variant 1126

Pairing: Loki!Wooyoung × Avenger!reader

Warning(s): Mentions of a painful past (iykyk, especially if you're a Bucky fan), Wooyoung being a cheeky little fuck lol, Fandral and Volstagg being absolute dicks (trigger warning: Volstagg mentions ripping off body parts), slight coercion, fluffy ending

Genre: Cracked out fluff with some angst

Nets: @blossomnet @mirohs-aurora-society

Context: Loki is the Norse god of mischief. In the MCU (Marvel Cinematic Universe), he is dead. When the Avengers defeated him in 2012, he was last seen chained up and ready to go back to Asgard to be imprisoned. However, in Avengers: Endgame, Loki escapes with the Tessaract when the 2023 Avengers show up and fuck up shit as they try to gather the Infinity Stones from all across the realms in different time periods.

Setting: this will take place during the Loki series. Specifically, season two. If you do not know by now, Loki sacrificed himself in the end of this series and is now the god of stories. He did this so the others could live. The fic will start with Mobius hanging out with Hunter B-15, Casey, and Sylvie before all five of them look onto a random screen to see other versions of the Earth we know today. Yes Wooyoung will be a variant lol

Includes: Hongjoong as Odin, Seonghwa as Freya, Yunho as Thor, Yeosang as Dr. Darcy Lewis, San as Bucky, Mingi as Dr. Jane Foster, and Jongho as Lady Sif.

To clear up any confusion, Odin!Hongjoong and Apollo!Hongjoong are two completely different godly figures.

Thank you to @bunnliix for helping me decide the order of the fics that I write and post

I also decided to tag @ja3hwa since they're a huge Bucky enthusiast 👁👁

"You know... I'm curious about something."

Mobius said out of the blue as he looked at his three friends peacefully eating their key lime pie. Hunter B-15 looked up at him curiously.

"What is it?" B-15 asked.

"Have we ever taken in variants that were actually doing what is told in accordance with the sacred timeline? As in they were doing what they were supposed to do yet we accidentally took them in?"

Mobius's question left them puzzled and they were now thinking about it.

"I want to know as well." Sylvie asked as well. The blonde Loki variant tilted her head curiously. Casey then came up with something.

"Remember that one Loki variant we took in? The one that Renslayer misinformed us about? He had eyeliner and a lot of piercings on his ear. He also bites."

B-15 knew who Casey was talking about and she blushed out of embarrassment.

"We were all awkward that day, including Renslayer. She apologized to the variant and we all left quickly. That same day, we never did anymore missions and just waited the next day." B-15 explained. Casey & Mobius nodded grimly while Sylvie was confused.

"A Loki variant that bites?! What is this variant? A vampire?" Sylvie exclaimed and Mobius chuckled before taking out his tempad and scrolling through the past Loki variants before stopping on the one they were talking about.

"This is him. Variant 1126. He is a Loki variant but when he visits Earth often, he goes by Jung Wooyoung."

Sylvie's jaw dropped as she saw a picture of a beautiful man on the tempad screen.

"He's a Loki variant?! He certainly doesn't look like one!" She exclaimed as she kept staring at him."

"I wonder what he's doing now." Mobius said curiously. The other three grew curious as well and they all sat beside Mobius. The older man soon clicked on the file and all four of them peered into the life of Variant 1126.

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

"PUT ME DOWN, YOU SMELLY FUCK! I'M NOT GOING TO ASGARD WITH YOU AND THE OTHER BIG BITCH!"

Yunho laughed heartily while San giggled lightly and tightened his hold on his sibling. One minute, you were sleeping peacefully. The next minute, your brother hoisted you up and over his shoulder before walking alongside the taller man outside of the Avengers Compound.

"YEOSANG! MINGI! DO SOMETHING!"

The two doctors tagging along simply giggled. Yeosang playfully swatted your ass while Mingi shrugged jokingly as if to say 'Sorry. My hands are tied.' Finally, you gave up and laid limp in San's hold.

"HEIMDALL, WE'RE READY! BEAM US UP!"

A bright light descended from the sky and crashed down onto the five of you before beaming you upwards to Yunho's realm.

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

You thought you were going to hurl.

After you guys successfully made it to Asgard, you immediately ran over to the beginning of the rainbow bridge and dry heaved. Luckily, nothing came out. However, you were still nauseous. San patted your back and helped you stand up. Once you recovered, the five of you began walking to the kingdom of Asgard, taking in the sights before you.

You soon arrived at the entrance and two soldiers greeted you guys before allowing entry inside. You, Yeosang, San, and Mingi marveled at the sights of the golden interior before seeing two golden thrones and two men sitting atop said thrones.

"Welcome back home, my dearest Thor." The king greeted the god of thunder.

"Father~ I told you to call me Yunho!" Yunho whined softly and the king chuckled before standing up and walking towards him. He brought him into a hug. The queen followed suit.

"You know your father. The ever forgetful man he is." The second man chuckled. "Are these your friends?" He asked as he gestured to the rest of you.

"Ahh yeah! This is Dr. Kang Yeosang, San Barnes, and Y/N Barnes! But uh..." Yunho grabbed Mingi's hand and his voice softened. There was a hint of love and affection.

"This is Dr. Song Mingi. He's my boyfriend."

The second man clapped in delight while the first man's pretty smile never left his face.

"Greetings, Dr. Song. My name is Odin but you can call me Hongjoong."

"My name is Freya but you can call me Seonghwa. It is lovely to finally meet you. We have heard so much about you from our eldest son. He wouldn't stop gushing about you!"

"Mother!" Yunho exclaimed out of embarrassment and the tips of his ears turned red while Seonghwa simply giggled. While Hongjoong was talking Mingi's ears off, Seonghwa approached the four of you.

"It's nice to meet you, Dr. Kang."

"Same here, Hwa!"

You were about to swat Yeosang's head for being informal in front of the queen when you heard him laugh.

"Oh my. You are quite the excitable one."

Yeosang toothily grinned and Seonghwa returned it before turning to you. Both you and San were nervous as all hell. You two were sure that Hongjoong and Seonghwa would treat you differently due to them hearing about your past sins. When Seonghwa brought you two into a hug, all of those worries washed away and all that was left was shock and confusion.

"Welcome to Asgard, Namhae Wolves."

To hear him call you guys your official hero names rather than the Winter Soldiers almost made you cry. San let out a shaky breath of relief as Seonghwa pulled away. He held San's face in his hands and a choked sob escaped San's lips.

"I thought we would be treated differently. Forgive us for the hesitancy, your majesty." San spoke quietly. You nodded along in agreement and Seonghwa shushed you both.

"You are freed from the hands of HYDRA. You are both forgiven."

San smiled weakly while you bowed before Seonghwa. The queen turned to you and tilted his head curiously. His eyes were assessing you and you were growing anxious under his gaze. A teasing smirk appeared on the pretty man's lips.

"Y/N Barnes right?"

You nodded nervously and a slight chuckle escaped his lips.

"Oh my... so you're the one that my youngest son sees in his dreams. Looks like his prophetic visions have come to life." That smirk never left his lips and you grew confused by his words.

"Uh... what do you mean by that?"

"Oh don't fret, my dear. I just...remembered something. That's all." He patted your head lightly before bringing his hand down to your face. His fingers caressed your cheek and you found yourself leaning into his touch.

"Come now. We all have much to discuss."

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

It had only been a few hours since you landed in Asgard and so far, you loved it. The food was great, the conversation was lively, and the environment was relaxing. After lunch ended, all of you went your separate ways. Yunho and Mingi went with Hongjoong and Seonghwa to walk around in the gardens while Yeosang dragged San along to go check out the labs.

Leaving you by yourself to wander the grand hallways alone.

As you walked around, you were making a mental note of the structures and the archways perched above various giant doors that lead into different rooms. You then noticed a lone figure leaning against the balcony, reading a book. You were about to approach him when another figure blocked your path.

"Hey. May you please move out of the way?" You asked politely. The new person, with an arrogant smile, stood before you defiantly.

"Greetings! I am Fandral! Welcome to Asgard!"

Oh.

He was one of those people. Oh boy.

"Shall I show you around this grand ole palace or... shall I introduce you to a special room just beyond those doors? Where you and I can be alone."

As Fandral wiggled his eyebrows, his friends behind him cheered loudly and egged him on. Except for a young man who seemed tired of the bullshit his friend was doing.

"Since when...?"

Fandral was confused by your statement yet he kept the smile on his face.

"Whatever do you mean?!"

"Since when did I fucking ask for this shit right here?"

Your snappish tone made his friends quiet down, the young man snap his head up to pay attention, and Fandral's smile waver.

"Surely, you must jest with your words. I mean... look at me."

"Yeah i'm looking at you. All I see is an egotistic douchebag who thinks he can sweep anyone off their feet with those horrid pick up lines alone. Now run along. My patience is running thin and you do not want to see me when I'm impatient."

"But -"

"Scram!"

Your raised voice made everyone flinch and they ran off. Fandral trailed behind them like a dog with its tail hanging between its hind legs. Only the young man remained and his gummy smile was present.

Cute.

"No one has ever stood up to and rejected Fandral like that before. You certainly have guts."

"Let's just say I've had my own fair share of Fandrals before back on Earth, or Midgard as you call it."

"Fair enough."

The man with the gummy smile stuck out his hand.

"I'm Lord Sif, but you may call me Jongho."

"Nice to meet you, Jongho. I'm Y/N."

As the two of you walked down the hallways to get to know one another, you were unaware of the lone figure looking straight at you as you passed by. A mischievious smirk played on his lips as he closed his book shut.

"Well well... you're certainly a fiery one."

As he walked towards the library, he thought about you some more.

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

It had been now a few weeks since your stay here in Asgard.

Yeosang and Mingi were making good progress on whatever project they were working on with Hongjoong and Yunho by their side. Meanwhile, you were bored so you pulled San into a practice room and asked to spar with him.

Ever the competitor, San obliged.

As you two were stretching, you heard light footsteps approach you. You lifted your head to see who approached you.

And you almost toppled over onto San.

A body clad in black and green armor with gold accents, a sharp jawline, piercing eyes that reminded you of a fox, eyeliner underneath said eyes, and many piercings adorning both ears.

'His lips look soft'

'DON'T BE WEIRD'

'But they are'

'DON'T BE WEIRD'

"If you want to know how soft they are, why don't you come here and test them out yourself?"

His mischievous voice snapped you out of the daze you were in.

"Did I say that out loud?! Oh my God! I'm so sorry!" You exclaimed and hid yourself behind San's wide frame, hoping your brother would protect you. The young man chuckled smoothly and stepped closer.

"No you didn't. I can read minds y'know?"

Ok that was fine.

WAIT A DAMN MINUTE -

"Wait. Mind reading, black and green armor, a mischievous voice, and..."

That's when you noticed it.

The golden horned helmet he was holding in one hand along with a book in the other hand.

"You're Loki... aren't you?"

Your shy voice made his heart melt yet he hid it behind a suave demeanor.

"Yes. It is I. But since everyone here is using their Midgardian names, then I supposed you can call me Wooyoung."

The tales of his silver tongue were no joke.

As you approached him, you studied his facial features more. Wooyoung noticed this and decided to take advantage of your curious nature by leaning in. You squeaked in surprise and Wooyoung laughed airily at this. He retracted himself and walked over to the bleachers before finding a suitable spot and sitting down.

"Oh don't mind me. I am just observing. Continue with what you are doing."

As if to prove that he's telling the truth, he opened the book he was carrying and began reading. You huffed lightly and continued stretching before turning to face San.

"Want to start?"

San, who noticed the entire thing unfold, nodded. He had an unreadable expression on his face as he narrowed his feline eyes suspiciously at Wooyoung momentarily before getting into a fighting stance.

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

"FUCK!"

You were slammed down into the mat while San hovered over you.

"You're getting weak, little sis." He teased you while he helped you up. You were breathing heavily and hunched over. Wooyoung looked up discreetly from his book and watched the beads of sweat trail down your face.

How could you look so ethereal even whilst sparring?

He felt himself blush and looked back down at his book so San wouldn't catch him staring.

"Best two out of three!"

"You already said that -"

"I don't care! Best two out of three!"

San lightly chuckled before getting into a fighting stance once more. You tackled him and tried to get him in a headlock yet he beat you to it.

"Come on now. You should know by now that this tactic is getting old."

"I'm aware. Which is why I'm doing this!"

You jumped up and slipped out of his hold before grabbing his wrist and flipping him onto his front whilst you landed after practically doing a somersault mid-air. San groaned in pain and you pinned his arm behind his back.

"Ha! I win."

San laughed weakly as you let him go and helped him up.

"Finally! That was fun. I'll be right back. I'm going to grab us some water."

San turned and jogged off somewhere to fetch water for the both of you. You walked towards the bleachers and sat next to Wooyoung. The young god conjured a towel and handed it to you. You thanked him as you wiped your face to get rid of any sweat buildup.

"You sure fight hard. Do you and San always do this?" Wooyoung asked curiously.

"Yeah we do. Even way before we were captured by HYDRA, we would always spar in our old gym and see who the best was." You told him and looked down at the metal arm that was beside you. You moved it, flexed it, and wiggled your fingers around before sighing deeply.

"With these metal appendages, we're stronger than ever. However, we both try not to use them as much as possible since... uh..."

"I heard about what you both had to go through. And I'm so sorry this happened to you. This must not have been easy for you."

All mischief was lost and all you heard in Wooyoung's voice was softness and care. As he scooted closer to you, he looked down at your metal arm.

"May I...?"

You were unsure of what he would do yet you trusted him somehow so you nodded and Wooyoung lifted your arm before observing closely.

The intense gaze in those fox eyes made you anxious. He trailed his slender fingers up and down the metallic plating before skimming downwards to your hand. He then intertwined his fingers with yours and brought your hand up to his lips.

Wooyoung's plush lips made contact with the cold metal and stayed there for a minute before bringing it up to his face. He flinched slightly as your metallic palm made contact with the warmth radiating off his face. He leaned into your touch and his stare softened. A small smile was on his lips and he shifted closer to you.

"I'm sorry. I don't even know your name. My apologies." He said sheepishly and you laughed quietly before reassuring him that it was fine.

"My name's Y/N. Y/N Barnes."

"Y/N..."

The way your name rolled off his tongue made your insides feel tingly. Before he could speak any further, you heard a cacophony of voices booming down the hallway. You both turned to see Fandral, Jongho, and a bunch of Fandral's friends storming towards you. One of them threw Wooyoung off the bleachers so Fandral can take his place. Jongho helped him up while you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms.

"Listen here, you lowly mortal. I am Fandral the Dashing! I will not stop until you are mine! Do you think your malicious words can bring me down?!"

"Well you seemed butthurt so I assumed you were -"

"SILENCE, MORTAL!"

You rolled your eyes but shut up nonetheless as Fandral talked nonsense.

"However, I am willing to forgive you. You just need to do one thing."

"What?" You growled.

"Give me a kiss."

"No."

"KISS HIM, YOU PATHETIC MORTAL!"

The man that shoved Wooyoung off grabbed the back of your head and pushed you towards Fandral's puckered lips. You squirmed in his hold and tried to resist him without using your metal arm.

You were annoyed but you vowed to never touch anyone with your metal arm again.

"HEY!!!!"

A loud voice was heard and all of you turned to see an angry San sprinting towards you at lightning speed. The man holding your head punched San square in the face and laughed as he went down.

"PUNY MORTAL! NOW WHERE WERE WE, FANDRAL?!"

Wooyoung sprinted into action and tackled the man holding your head, leaving you to be free. Jongho helped Wooyoung pin down the man while you tried to get up so you could help San. However, you were stopped by Fandral.

"Come on now. It's just one measly kiss. What could go wrong?"

"Everything could go wrong if you don't unhand them right now."

You were relieved to hear Yunho's voice echoing in the hallways. Fandral froze and turned to see the god of thunder with the angriest of faces on.

"Thor! What a surprise. Could you please tell them to just -"

"I will not tell them anything. You on the other hand..."

Yunho grabbed Fandral by the collar and lifted him from the bleachers easily. Fandral's feet dangled as he tried to escape his grasp.

"Wait! Thor! You misunderstand -"

"Shut up, dude!" Jongho hissed to the man that was pinned down.

"Sif, you are on that pa-"

"Choose your words carefully, Volstagg."

"Like I will listen to you, Loki! Do you not know of both their past misdeeds as Winter Soldiers?! They have killed countless people mercilessly! And with those metal arms! If I was there, I would've ripped their arms off and beat them with it!"

Everyone went quiet as Volstagg, the pinned man, spoke of yours and San's former HYDRA induced sins in such an arrogant and proud tone. Yunho grew angrier but Wooyoung saw red. He was about to lash out when a booming authoritative voice.

"YOU SHALL NOT SPEAK ILL OF OUR GUESTS! FANDRAL AND VOLSTAGG, I SENTENCE YOU TO THE BRIG FOR FOUR WEEKS!"

Fandral nor Volstagg spoke a word as Hongjoong walked into the room.

"O-Odin... sire -"

"That's your majesty to you! Guards, take them down to the prison cells!"

Two guards dragged Volstagg while Fandral was released from Yunho's grasp and taken as well. You were glad that was over.

You could cry freely.

You fell to your knees and sobbed into your hands, which startled everyone.

"Father, should I wake San -"

"No, my dear. Look."

After Seonghwa finished speaking, Yunho looked to see his little brother comforting you to the best of his ability. Wooyoung held you in his arms and shushed you gently and lovingly.

"You are free of them. They will not track you down. It's ok. It's ok."

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

It had been a month since the incident. San was grateful for Wooyoung's presence. At first, he was weary of the young god. However, when he heard from Yunho that Wooyoung successfully calmed you down, he approved of him.

You were leaning against Wooyoung as you two watched the sunset from the balcony of Wooyoung's room. Your head was on his shoulder while his arm was wrapped around your waist.

"So what happened during that meet up with your friends?"

You knew that Wooyoung went away for a bit before coming back in time for dinner. But you were curious as to what for.

"One of my good friends is gone."

Your eyes widened. A god died?!

"No no, my dear. You misunderstand me. He left behind his life in the Duat, the Egyptian underworld, and joined Midgard as a completely different man. With a clear mind and an open clean heart. He is currently with his beloved right now."

After the clarification he gave based off reading your mind, you understood.

"May I see what he looks like?"

"Of course."

He pulled out a group photo and showed it to you. You recognized Yunho and Wooyoung but the others were new to you. He pointed out each one.

"The one that looks like my father? That's Apollo. The one that looks like Dr. Kang? That's Ptah. The one that looks like your brother? That's Hercules. The one that looks like Sif? That's Sekhmet."

He pointed to the last god.

"The one that looks like my mother? That's the god that joined Midgard. His name was Anubis."

After looking at the eerily similar figures of the five gods, you looked back up at him. Wooyoung's face was filled with nostalgia and a hint of sadness. You gave him a side hug and Wooyoung gladly returned it.

"Have you guys thought about finding him?"

"We have, but we wouldn't know where to look. We don't even know if he is a man, woman, non-binary person, a pet, and so on. All we know is that... he is happy. And if he is happy, then who are we to rain on his parade? While we would love to know who he is in his new body and reunite with him, it just wouldn't feel the same."

You nodded in acknowledgement to his explanation and kissed his cheek.

"I love you, Wooyoung."

"And I love you, Y/N."

He kissed the back of your metal hand before holding it gently as you two continued watching the sunset.

[updownlately]

it's been seven minutes (since i lost the girl of my dreams)

| leah williamson x reader | angst | a/n: got this idea earlier today but didn't get the chance to write till now (aka 3:30 am). inspired by 7 minutes by dean lewis (shocker)

~~~

It’s been ten months of you both dating before your world comes crashing down. You would've never predicted that a singular text would be the beginning of the end.

Driving to your girlfriend's house at nine pm on a Wednesday night was not in your plans for that day, but you didn't mind- you never minded when it came to Leah, you'd do anything for her.

You could've never predicted the eight words that suckered punched you in the chest soon after your arrival. Upon entering, you'd noticed the awkward tension in the foyer as you were greeted in, the always-confident blonde wringing her hands as she ushered you in, deftly avoiding giving you a greeting kiss. It was only as she brought you to the island, took a handful of deep breaths and started speaking did it all sink in. Unsuccessful in your attempt to swallow the lump in your throat, you felt the blood rush in your ears as the defender spoke, not meeting your eyes.

"I don’t think we were meant for forever"

It's been seven minutes since all your hopes and dreams for the future came tumbling down, ablaze, unable to be saved. Seven minutes since your tears started to silently fall, any attempt to wipe them futile as you tried to ignore Leah's sympathetic look.

Since then you'd been driving around aimlessly for the better part of six minutes- blurred vision, no idea where you were going, no care where you ended up, just as long as you were away from the blonde- far away from the one who just ripped your heart out of your chest and let it fall unceremoniously on the ground, ready to be stomped on.

Five days is how long it took before you even remotely start to feel human again. You’d been through heartbreaks before, of relationships that were much longer, but somehow nothing had ever hurt this bad, this much. None of them had meant anything remotely close to this. You'd finally thought you'd found the one- finally convinced that love did exist, only to be proven wrong, your innocent assumption blowing up in your face.

For you she was forever. You’d come to that conclusion a few months ago, when she had joined you as you sat on the grass, head tossed back, your music playing softly as you let the weight of life crash down upon you. You'd let yourself break in front of her, trusting that she'd catch you, and she did. She caught you, held on tight, picked you up, that is, until she let you fall the remaining way, all by yourself.

It had you silently wondering if she'd ever meant those three words when she'd whisper them to you late in the night. If her promise of I love you ever meant anything to her. Had the words always been as empty as what you felt now?

Two weeks pass before you see her again, your heart clenching in agony as you see her smiling shyly at her phone, a red hue coating her cheeks as one paints your vision. That used to be you, and now it wasn't, and you'd be lying if you said that your heart wasn't wrenching in pain, chest constricting so tight you feared you'd forget how to breathe. So caught up in your love, you'd never stepped back to see if it was reciprocated, and you couldn't help but feel like an idiot now.

It's why one month later you’re signing your papers for your transfer, the new year the perfect time for a new you, a fresh start.

If love wasn't meant for you, then so be it. If it's what the universe had planned for you, then you weren't going to let someone break your heart again. It's why zero was the number of times you'd let yourself love again, heart locked away for good, walls up higher than anyone could ever climb.

[f1amboyant]

I'm not gonna say that I've been plotting this AU instead of working this morning but that's exactly what I'm doing, thinking about my comfort emotionally constipated soulmates. Honestly I feel like Carlos would really be happy to romance even if he wasn't Charles' soulmate, boy is he smitten with his little green eye teammate that looks at him like he created aerodynamics, he never had a chance. I am also 100% sure Ferrari would exploit it like the money hungry pr vultures they are but anyway, this is the direct following of the last ask:

Charles knows it is unfair and stupid to be upset about Carlos finding a new soulmate in his new teammate but he had to endure all the summer break reading James Vowles' words about Carlos and he was jealous and triggered that someone would dared to talk like that about him, like he wanted to climb inside him; it made him a little insecure that James would predicate his love for Carlos and STEAL him away from Charles.

So in Charles opinion he had a perfectly acceptable reaction on a Thursday morning in their motorhome after not seeing his soulmate for weeks and him dropping a bomb like that and that is climb into his lap (Carlos allows it even though he had to maneuver his coffee cup), breaking up in tears and babbling about how this is so unfair and he loves him more than anyone in Williams ever could and complaining about his soul hurting since February and something about setting Fred's room on fire... Carlos lets him get all out, a little stunned and petting Charles' back from the back of his neck to the swell of his ass before settling on his waist, over where he knows his mark is and his other hand scratching his head, coffee cup abandoned on the floor. If someone would had entered the room they would've seen them like that, folded into each other, meters of skin touching, fitting like a puzzle, filling each other's gaps and in such intimate conversation, whispering their yearnings into each ears, painful to watch such a beautiful image. After a while Carlos decides to move the conversation forward and helps Charles move out of his lap bc this is a serious situation and he can't think clearly when he has the weight of his literal soul on top of him and he rather have the talk before his dick decides to move the conversation to another direction 👀

Their love confessions are raw, no more pretty words and metaphors, just pure feelings and stories of yearning, pain; Carlos says he can always feel Charles around like a missing limb and Charles' recalls how he thought he was having a stroke after the Lewis news broke out, how he thought his heart was stopping. They both rip themselves opened for the other to see and Charles is sure that if you cut him open at this mark, not only his skin, but his flesh, bones and organs would be stained gold and for a second he wished he could move his mark from Carlos' shoulder to his throat or his lips so everyone would see it, so there wasn't any doubt that Carlos is his and his only, that even though Carlos was full of color and love for the world, his skin a canvas and his body a museum, his heart only belongs to Charles.

Their first kiss is soft and warm, interwoven with each other, Charles' legs over his lap and his head cushioned on his shoulder, hand over his heart, Carlos' hands still on his mark and his hair, keeping him close and wondering what's next, bc for starters they should be on their way to do their press work but how do you go out after ripping your own soul in half and sew it inside someone else? Charles really doesn't want to move and Carlos has to coax him with sweets "mi alma" and "mi corazón" and promises of a evening alone in his room getting to know every corner of their bodies and souls 🫣🫣🫣

Charles is not above asking for a bj (he doesn't even care what way it goes) and being a menace tbh. He is also gonna be a little shit every time he passes James Vowles bc honestly, f him.

I have so many ideas about their dynamic (and other's tbf), they make me insane 🥰🎨

OH MY GOD

First, plotting AUs during work is such a mood. I totally get it 🤭

Yes! Carlos would absolutely love Charles, whether they are soulmates or not!! So true!

Oh my god, Charles falling apart 😭 Saying his soul is hurting?? I am hurting at that 😭😭😭

Love confession, yay!!! But no pretty words, they are raw and tender, they just say it straight. They are one. Together or nothing 😭 Their first kiss so tender and yet so urgent.

I wonder what they are going to do for that first night together 🤭

Ahahah, I love the idea of Charles being a complete menace to James (and maybe James plays with it a little, teases him, still uses romantic terms to refer to Carlos, until Carlos puts a stop to it)

Thank you so much for sharing anon! Please feel free to share more if you want to! (I must admit that I'm more interested in the charlos part than other ships though 🫣)

[izzabela]

i beg thee… more cod stuff.. specifically kyle gaz garrick hitting it from the back.. or the front.. or the side..

PLEASE WOMEAS EOKEAS ELEMA SE PLEASE

Acrobat - Gaz x f!reader

in which Gaz is quite flexible

a/n: i was so convinced lewis hamilton was his CGI face...

ship[s]: kyle "gaz" garrick x fem!reader

warning(s): MDNI- graphic descriptions of sex, mirror fucking, spanking, little dirty talk, multiple positions, semi-aerial fucking, bondage, fluff in the beginning, oh gaz...

You really wish you could shut up sometimes.

Birds chirp the loudest in the morning, but where nature seeks reprimand with apex predators and hunters, your punishment is a man named Kyle fucking Garrick.

"You've quite the bend, soldier," you teased him that morning. "Back's killin' me now..."

And when Gaz replied with a sickeningly sweet "I can help"? You should've realized you stepped in a bear trap.

It started with the yoga lessons. He brought you to the studio he frequents whenever on a day off or leave, a pretty nice studio on the busy streets of London. It wasn't all that bad either, especially with how slow Gaz was going with you.

Despite him being in the hardest difficulty of this yoga studio, he took the time to join the beginner classes with you. He made sure to push your limits when he saw you were about to master a skill, or he helped you out with some poses with kind, yet firm, pointers and demonstration.

And when you didn't have time to go out? He was your personal yoga instructor.

Back arched beyond human flexibility, Gaz kisses the tip of his head to your cervix, bruising it over and over again with how deep he's punching in. Between the perverted slapping of his thighs on the fat of your bum, to the little hiccups of your broken sobs, and the hoarse moaning from your pretty little beak... it was music to Kyle's ears.

"Aw, bird," he coos as he squeezes the supple fat of your ass, "Downward doggy shouldn't be so hard to do..."

You felt like a dumb dog, falling victim to a trappers cruel antics. You couldn't respond to him, eyes rolling to the back of your head as the rhythmic pounding of his hips into your ass made you drool and moan for more.

"Got me a dumb mutt..." he spanks your ass again, and again, and again.

And you couldn't be mad at him, because the yoga lessons were really helping! If you had a pretty pence for every time you felt the aches of night time acrobatics leave, you'd be a fucking millionaire. But flexibility lessons didn't stop there.

Gaz took you to a silks studio next. A graduate from the basics of flexibility and mobility, you were moving on to the next parts of Gaz's torture.

It's hard for you to imagine a man to do silks, it's even harder when a man of Gaz's stature and history does silks. Then again, Gaz has always been somewhat lean compared to his comrades. Yes, he still has meaty and round bulbed flesh he calls "muscles", but he was rather lean, a little smaller, and moved a little quicker than the others.

When seeing Gaz lift himself effortlessly on the fabric, wrapping himself up in different patterns and movements, falling- practically floating- gracefully from the ceiling to the ground- you wanted to be that man.

Unfortunately, it would take a lot more for you to be at his level. For now, you stuck with twirls, core-stimulating moves, and full-body poses using all of the fabric. And just like the yoga studio, Gaz would always help you out.

Even at home! Gaz sets up a mirror, takes out his silks from the closet, and unhooks the hanging light from the hook in the ceiling (since when was that there?). Making sure the rope is tight up top, you begin to practice your moves learned from the studio.

Although, "practice" should've had fine print with Gaz. The minute you get into position in the silks, belly facing up, you're stuck (fucking wonderful). Spread like a flayed fish (or a Michelin-starred meal), Gaz takes this opportunity to rip your leggings off, one hand on your back while the other gripping your ass.

You're trying to wriggle out of the silks, but a quick pinch and the vibrations of his "tsk tsk tsk", you're stuck for real. Reluctantly accepting (embracing, he'd argue), Gaz lapped your juices up like a starving animal. Ravished on your folds, digging his tongue inside of you while he moves his hand from your arse to your clit. Pinching, lightly pulling, rubbing- the sensation from his talented tongue and his fingers made you cum not once... not twice...

three times before he gently caught you from the air. Carrying you to the bed to be cleaned up by him and the same hands that made you peak so many times.

And as much as you wanted to be angry with him, the knots that disappeared from your back told you to sit down.

You stopped talking back when Gaz took you to a pilates class. There's no shock anymore, just pure and unbridled confusion watching Gaz not break a damn sweat while on that whole... thingy-majigger... in the most uncomfortable positions.

You try your damn-dest too, but you haven't been in a gym proper since grade school- and since when did these gyms have these fancy workout machines?

Still, Gaz helps you out like the rotten peach he is. Holding your hands when you're visibly shaking on the platform. Hand pressed on the small of your back as his other hand is resting on your tummy.

And speaking of your tummy, Gaz is pressing on the lower part of your belly as he pistons right in your gummy walls. So tight and wet, and the fact you're squeezing with his mating press is making him go insane.

While his hand is there, the other holds your leg up and out, like one of those pilates poses. Though, you're on the bed- still, it doesn't take away from the stimulation of your cunt being abused, and your core burning from holding position.

"K-kyl- Ga-" you stutter the multiple identities this man has, and he chuckles at your indecisiveness.

"Hold fo' a bi' longer..." he grits out, hips slamming into your tight cunt as your core twists and you climax. Doesn't matter though, not when Gaz hasn't reached his limit.

"A bi' longer dove... c'mon, fo' me," he tries to hide the slight falter in his voice, but it's no use as you squeezes again (despite the overstim of your cunt).

After this, you don't whine or complain since the aches have disappeared completely. He really is an acrobat, flexible fucker.

And as all great acrobats do, they can't go without practice- and thank goodness you're up to the task now.

=====================

guys i just had the fattest meal and i'm about to clock out for the night (i live in the US)

see yall in the next fic!

[pickingupmymercedes]

Let me go - Lewis Hamilton (NSFW)

Part of 1K Jukebox Event

song: Let me go - Lou Val - @goldenroutledge (if it breaks your heart, like it did mine, she's partly to blame 🥺👀 not really though)

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

genre: Angst with hints of smut (mostly angst, like rip your heart open one)

wordcount: +2k

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT

______________________________________________________________

The room is dim, bathed in the soft and muted shadows of the late afternoon.

My skin feels hot against the cool sheets, his body pressing down on mine like we never left this place—like we never really let each other go.

But we did. Didn’t we?

I shouldn’t be here.

I know I shouldn’t be here, but my hands are already tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, my breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps.

His lips move against my neck, slow and deliberate, like he’s trying to memorize every inch of me all over again.

Has he forgotten already?

Because to me, it feels all too familiar. Every touch, every sigh, every whispered breath between us—it’s like muscle memory, pulling me back into something we swore we’d left behind.

The way he moves, the way he knows exactly where to touch, where to press— a cruel reminder of everything we once were. Everything we could’ve been.

But we’re not that, not anymore.

I can’t help the noise that escapes me as his hands slide down my sides, his fingers digging into my skin just enough to make me shudder.

It’s like he’s trying to pull me back into the past—back into a time when things were easier, when it was just us, when we didn’t know any better.

When we still believed this could work.

And his weight starts to feel like a sum of it all—the months, the distance, the end—but I pushed it to the back of my mind.

Because right now, all that should matter is how his body feels against mine, the way his breath hitches when I drag my nails across his back, the way my name sounds when it falls from his lips.

But my mind keeps pulling me away, even as my body responds to his every touch.

And maybe it’s that I know, deep down, I know this isn’t right.

This isn’t what we need, what I need. This isn’t going to fix anything.

It’s not going to change the fact that we’re broken.

He lifts his head, his eyes meeting mine, and for a second, I think I see it—the same doubt, the same hesitation that’s been eating at me.

But then his lips crash against mine, and it’s gone, replaced by a desperation I also recognize all too well.

Desperation to hold on. To feel something. To pretend. Even if just for tonight, that we haven’t lost everything.

His hands are on my hips now, pulling me closer, deeper, and I arch into him, my body betraying the part of me that’s already starting to crumble.

I gasp as he presses his forehead against mine, his breath ragged, his hands trembling slightly as they move over my skin.

“Y/n,” he breathes, his voice barely a whisper.

It’s not a question, it’s not a plea, it’s not even a promise like it used to sound—it’s just my name.

But it’s enough to unravel me, at least for just a moment.

I close my eyes, biting my lip as I feel him enter me, my heart pounding in my chest, almost matching the rhythm of his thrusts.

It feels so good. Too good.

And that’s the problem, isn’t it? It’s too easy to fall back into this—to fall back into him.

But as my body responds, my mind keeps screaming.

This is why it didn’t work. This is why it’ll never work.

This? This is all we ever had. Just this fire, this passion that burns so bright it blinds us to everything else.

We were always good at this—at losing ourselves in each other, at pretending the outside world didn’t exist when we were tangled up in each other like this.

But we were never good at the rest of it all.

And it was not fair. To either of us.

I bite down on my lip harder, trying to keep myself from falling apart. I can feel his breath against my ear, the way his hands are gripping me tighter, like he’s afraid if he lets go, I’ll disappear.

And maybe I will. Maybe I should.

“Fuck,” he groans, his voice rough, raw. I can hear the need in it, the way he’s holding on by a thread, and it makes my chest tighten because I know how this ends.

We’ve been here before, haven’t we?

I press my hands to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath my palms.

“Lewis,” I whisper, my voice breaking on his name. I can feel the tears prickling at the corners of my eyes, and I try to blink them away, but it’s too late.

He doesn’t stop. He can’t. And I don’t ask him to.

Because I don’t want him to stop. Not yet.

His hand slides up, cupping my face, his thumb brushing over my cheek as he leans down to kiss me again, softer this time. Almost tender.

Like he’s trying to make up for something—like he’s trying to say everything we never could in words.

I kiss him back, my hands slipping up to his neck, pulling him closer, and for a second I try and make a gamble with myself, to let my heart believe that this could be enough. That maybe, just maybe, this time it’ll be different.

But it won’t.

Because as much as I want to stay in this moment, as much as I want to pretend that we can make this work, I know the truth.

We’re not good for each other. We never were.

I break the kiss, my chest heaving as I try to catch my breath, my hands still gripping his shoulders like he’s the only thing keeping me grounded.

And maybe he is. The one thing holding me together right now.

And I can feel the cracks. I can feel myself starting to break, and I know that if I don’t let go, it’s only going to hurt more come the morning.

I force my eyes to open, and for the first time, I see it—really see it.

The sadness in his own gaze, the way his brow furrows like he’s trying to understand why this always feels so right and so wrong at the same time.

And it hits me.

We’re both holding onto something that’s already gone. We’re both trying to find something in each other that we’ll never be able to give.

My throat tightens, and I swallow hard, trying to fight back the lump in my chest.

“This isn’t going to fix us” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the sound of our ragged breaths, our moans.

He stills for a moment, his forehead resting against mine, his breath shaky. “I know,” he says quietly, his voice rough. “I know.”

But he doesn’t stop. And neither do I.

Because even though we know this is the end, we’re still here.

We’re still clinging to whatever pieces are left, trying to make sense of something that never really made sense in the first place.

He moves inside me, slow and deep, and I close my eyes again, letting myself feel it.

One last time. One last time before we let each other go for good.

I can feel him start to tremble, his hands tightening on my hips, his breath coming in short, uneven gasps, and I know he’s close.

I know we’re both close, but it’s not enough. It’s never going to be enough.

I wrap my arms around him, pulling him down against me, and for a moment, we just hold each other, our bodies moving together in a rhythm that’s devastatingly familiar.

I can feel the tears slipping down my cheeks now, and I don’t even bother trying to hide them. Because this is it.

This is the last time. And I want to remember it, even if it hurts.

I need to remember how it hurts.

His lips brush against my temple, and I feel his breath hitch as he buries his face in my neck, his body tensing as he reaches his release.

And as I follow him over the edge, my own body trembling beneath his, I feel what he had crashing down on me.

We lie there in the silence, our bodies still tangled together, our breaths slowing as the reality of what we’ve just done sinks in.

I pull away first, my chest aching, my heart breaking all over again.

And this time, it had to be the last. It had to be goodbye. For good.

He shifts next to me, the warmth of his body slipping away as he props himself up on his elbow.

His hand hesitates, hovering just above my skin, like he’s not sure if he should touch me again. Eventually, he lets it fall gently onto my shoulder, a soft gesture, but one that feels heavy with everything unsaid.

“Y/n...” His voice is quiet, and there’s something raw in it. Like he’s searching for the right words, but we both know there aren’t any.

I don’t answer at first.

My eyes are fixed on the ceiling, but my mind is miles away, retracing every moment that got us here—every fight, every kiss, every time we tried to make it work and failed.

“I can’t keep doing this” I whisper, barely able to recognize my own voice. It sounds so small, so fragile.

His hand tightens slightly on my shoulder, like he’s holding on to the last thread of us. “Y/n…” he says, and for a moment, the silence that follows feels like the heaviest thing in the world.

I turn to face him, my throat tightening as I meet his gaze. His eyes are tired, sad, filled with the same sense of defeat I’m feeling.

But they’re still familiar, still the same eyes that made me fall in love once. And that’s what hurts the most.

“Why do we do this?” I ask, my voice breaking, the weight of the question too much to bear. “Why do we keep coming back knowing it’s going to hurt to fall apart again?”

He lets out a long, shaky breath, his hand sliding down my arm, stopping at my wrist. “Because it’s all we know,” he murmurs.

His thumb brushes over my pulse, and I wonder if he can feel how fast my heart is racing, how scared I am of losing him. All over again.

“We used to be good at this,” he presses, his voice soft, almost like he’s talking to himself. “We used to be good together.”

I close my eyes for a moment, fighting back the tears that are threatening to spill over again. “Don’t lie to yourself, Lewis” I manage to say, though it comes out as more of a broken exhale than anything else. “It never worked.”

His silence is deafening, and when I open my eyes again, he’s still watching me, his expression unreadable.

“I thought—” He starts, then stops himself, shaking his head. “I don’t know what I thought.”

I swallow hard, feeling the familiar ache in my chest. “You thought this time would be different,” I finish for him. It’s not an accusation, just a truth we’ve both been running from.

His hand drops from my wrist, and suddenly, the distance between us feels enormous. “Yeah,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I did.”

I sit up slowly, pulling the sheet with me as if it can shield me from everything that just happened.

“We’re never going to fix this, are we?” I ask, not because I don’t know the answer, but because I need to hear him say it.

I need to hear him admit it too.

He sits up too, running a hand through his loose braids, his jaw tight. “No,” he finally says, his voice heavy with resignation. “We’re not.”

It should bring me some kind of closure, hearing him admit it out loud.

But it just feels like another crack, another piece of us falling apart, a gigantic one.

I let out a shaky breath, trying to hold myself together. “I wish—” I stop myself, because I don’t even know what I’m about to say.

I wish we could make this work? I wish things were different? I wish I didn’t still love him, even after all this?

He looks at me, his eyes softer now, like he’s waiting for me to finish the thought.

“I wish I didn’t still hope” I finally say, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. And there it is—my heart laid bare, vulnerable in a way I didn’t want to be, not to him.

He looks away, his jaw clenching, and I know I’ve hit something. “Tell me about it” he finally whispers, his voice barely audible.

We both know what’s coming next, and yet, neither of us moves. It’s like we’re stuck in this limbo, between holding on and letting go, between loving each other and knowing it’s over.

“I should go,” I finally take the cue, even though it feels like the last thing I want to do.

But, staying now? That’s only going to make it worse.

His hand brushes against mine, the smallest, briefest touch, enough for me to feel the electricity.

“Stay,” he says softly, almost like a plea.

I look at him, my heart breaking all over again. “We can’t keep doing this, Lewis” I say, shaking my head. “It’s not fair to either of us”

He flinches, like my words physically hurt him. “I know” he says quietly, his voice full of defeat. “But... just for tonight.”

My chest tightens at the thought. One more night.

One more time to pretend that we can still be something, that we haven’t already lost everything.

But for what? I couldn’t keep tearing myself apart like this.

“I can’t,” I whisper, my voice barely holding together.

He doesn’t say anything. He just looks at me, his eyes full of that same sadness, that same regret that’s been hanging over us for months.

And then I know it’s really over. For good this time.

I stand up, pulling the sheet tighter around myself, trying to protect whatever’s left of me as I grab my clothes. “Goodbye, Lewis,” I say, my voice breaking as I turn toward the door.

“Y/n—” He starts, but I don’t let him finish. I can’t. Because if I do, I might never leave.

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @itsmrshamilton @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff @jpgnsf

@priopp123 @strqirlhrts @hmmmmm-01 @bisexual-babygirl-mj @bebesobrielo

@hiireadstuff @f1-football-fiend

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[mauvecherie-writes]

Full Throttle Extended …

lewis hamilton x black f!reader

summary: you didn’t know what it was but lewis just couldn’t get enough of you.

warning: 18+ nsfw mdni, extreme explicit smut, unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex, cum eating, dirty talk, slight spanking. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

note: as per @lewisthot’s comment on my fic, it sparked this so thank her for this. for avid readers of Lewis fics this particular one will not be to everyone’s taste so please read the warnings again, this will be a lot more on the high spice side so please read at your own risk.

wc: 1.14K

[full throttle main.] {tip jar}

On the way back to the apartment, you squirmed so much in your seat. You could feel the mixture of your cum dripping out of you and drenching the fabric of your underwear. The inner part of your thighs were slick and just the feel alone was making you flustered.

“What’s wrong baby?” Lewis asked you as he pulled into the garage of the penthouse.

“I can feel your cum dripping out of me.” You confessed as he safely parked the car.

“Fuck.” Lewis breathed out as he sagged into the seat and turned his head to look at you. “Is that why you’ve been squirming so much baby? You’re so full my cum that it’s leaking out of you?”

You nodded your head, biting onto your bottom lip.

“I’ll clean you up Princess, I promise.”

When he said that, you thought that he meant - he’d indulge in some aftercare but no, as soon as you entered into the penthouse - without turning on the lights, he dragged you to the bedroom and threw you onto the soft bed beneath.

“Strip for me.” He whispered into your skin as his hands pushed your skirt up to your waist. You tried to take off your corset top as he discarded his sweatshirt to the side. Kneeling onto the bed, he grabbed your ankle, leaning down to place a soft kiss on it before grabbing the flimsy material of your underwear.

You let out a harsh gasp as he roughly ripped the thongs away from your flesh. The bite of the fabric nipping at your supple skin left a soft burn in its wake.

“Daddy!” You squirmed as he parted your legs, baring your slick folds to him. He dropped your ruined underwear onto the floor and widened the gap in between your legs before slotting him in. Laid on his stomach, his hands palmed the inner part of your thighs, without a care that they were getting wet. Your scent was all he could smell and the look of your swollen cunt painted with his seed was enticing.

You had brought yourself to lean up on your elbows so that you could look down at him as he took the first lick but when his tongue darted out and drew the first lick before laying heavy muscle on your clit, you quickly collapsed back onto the bed.

Lewis had never minded kissing you after he had come in your mouth or shoving his tongue down your throat after it had been inside of you. However, this was different. His spent had been dripping out of you and he was cleaning it up and pleasuring you as he did so. There was something so deeply intimate about doing such a thing and his boldness to do so was intoxicating.

His fingers dug into your thighs as he held them down as he swirled his tongue around your pussy. The chill of the cold air touching your folds covered in cum and his spit sent a shiver down your spine.

Your small gasps of pleasure did not miss his ears as he sucked your clit into his mouth. “Oh fuck, fuck fuck!” A low moan vibrated from his chest and shook your core as he responded to the noises you were making. He could feel you trying to lift your hips into his face but he kept you in place.

“I gotta make sure you’re all cleaned up baby, don’t move.” He mumbled into your skin with his dark eyes peering up at you. You groaned in pure ecstasy of him going back to eating you with great enthusiasm.

Lewis loved eating your pussy. It was one thing that he could spend long periods of time doing whether the intended goal was to make you come or not. The sounds you made and the vulnerability it exposed to him is what he derived the most pleasure from. The taste of your essence on his lips putting in a trance that he did not want to escape from but when he could taste the reminiscence of himself within your nectar, it unleashed a primality long waiting to be revealed.

“Baby!” You gasped as your eyes rolled to the back of your head and tugged on your nipples. Your orgasm has snuck up on you and was quickly approaching. He could hear it from the pitch change of your moans and heavy breathing. He swiftly withdrew his mouth away from your cunt and before you could protest, he slid inside of you until he had filled you to the brim.

Your eyes widened at the unexpected intrusion as you looked up at him. The bottom half of his face was glistening and the musk of your cum tickled your nostrils as he placed his elbows on either side of your head.

As he began to move, he could see the pleasure completely take over you as your eyes fluttered close but struggled to open them as you wanted to maintain eye contact.

“It’s okay baby.” He whispered as he moved his hips, thrusting in and out of you at a soft pace. “I got you.”

“L-“ before his name could leave you, he crashed his lips into yours, tasting yourself on your tongue. There was no shyness in the boldness of the kiss and you whimpered into his mouth as he sucked on your tongue.

The slightest movements sent your over sensitive body into overdrive. He was fucking you so hard and deep that the echo of your skin clapping against each other rang out across the room. Your cries of pleasure could not be contained as he moved his hips back and forth.

With no words leaving you, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he rocked his hips faster and faster until you were holding onto his shoulders for dear life as your orgasm was fast approaching. Lewis buried his head in your neck and hooked your legs into his arms and pistoned hips, aiming just against your spot.

Your climax hit you in waves that were crashing into you. Your cunt clenched tightly around his dick which caused him to grunt loudly into your ear.

“Fuck, just like that baby.” He hissed into your ear. “Squeezing me so fucking good, I’m gonna cum!” Your arms wrapped around him and held on for dear life and you will yourself to move your hips to meet him thrust for thrust.

Lewis grabbed your neck and when he tried to kiss you; he ended up moaning loudly into your mouth as he flooded your walls with his seed. It was far more intense than his last orgasm and his body could not stop shaking as he filled you.

“Your pussy is such a drug bloody hell.” He mumbled into your ear.

“It’s your pussy Daddy.” You giggled. “Always.” ….

@queenshikongo3 @melodicheauxxo @felicity-x0 @dhlfastestlap @zeebee300 @stronglikemusic @olyvoyl @est1887 @lewisdiary @royallyprincesslilly @sadthotsonlylove @brownsugarcoffy @kellhems @zaeydi @kindan3rdy951 @kijahslove @melthereader @percysbiatch @windrush-child @sj206260358 @lewisinlace @lewisthot @isseymiyakee @dhlfastestlap @piscesgyalinit @lh44adore @blowmymbackout @uzumaki-rebellion @scorpiobleue @riarecs @paradisehamilton @virgomess @peyispromotinghershit @yeea-nah @lewiscrown @lewisthoughts @lewisroscoelove @mimihopie @icysdiary @sweethoneycream @hellomadamebutterfly @nie-die-richtigen-wortex @mercedesjpg​

[midnightmayhem13]

hi midnight!! 💜💜 I love ur hcs and I was hoping (if u have the time) u’d write something for Dress, who’s wearing the dress and who’s taking it off 👀 reader or one of the ladies + if u want cause I love a flustered woman 😍 how they’d react to helping you get dress whether they’re helping zip up the dress or putting a necklace on for u

Dress

love this idea enjoy❕🩶 ladies helping w a dress or necklace

carol danvers

carol isn't very used to seeing people in such fancy clothes. other than maybe royal alien she's never been around such elegancy. but when she see yours putting on the most beautiful dress she's probably ever seen, her jaw drop. big bold captain danvers will turn into a pile of mush. she feels as if she's standing before a goddess when shes watching you get ready for a gala. when you ask her to help you zip up your dress she's gets nervy omg. she'll respond with a breathy "y-yeah" and she's so gentle with the zipper and you. she knows how strong she is so she doesn't want to break the fragile zipper. she make sure non of the fabric gets caught too. she'll be very focused. when she's done she'll wrap her arms around you and tell you how beautiful you look.

sharon carter

sharon buys you jewelry because she got the money and she loves showing you off. and when she sees you get ready for a date or a night out she literally almost drools. she craves you and your body and your moans. but she also cant help but think you look absolutely beautiful. she'll watch you change (she's a lil perv) and just smirk until you huff and ask for her help. she'll get up from her spot where she was watching you from behind, and let out a chuckles and "of course baby" she'll kiss your kick while she does it and leaves hickies as if to mark you as her own. and sharon can't wait to rip the dress off of you later that night.

darcy lewis

when she sees you wearing a dress darcy's gonna be all over you bro. she's gonna be like "you're so hot babe" and she'll definitely hold you tight nd be like "alllllll mine" and smirk. if you ask for help she'd be so excited to be up close as if you were a celebrity, to her you are. and like if you give her affection while you're dressed so beautifully she gets so flustered. she'll hold your face and attack you with kisses saying how hot and gorgeous you look. she also cannot help but smack your ass while being behind you. then she turns you around and fixes your necklace or adjusting your neck line.

nebula

nebula watches you like a hawk. she'd deff get a little jealous. in the sense that you're just gonna go out looking like that?? so beautiful for no reason my god. and if you ask for help she'll be glad you asked her. and omg she'd struggle doing it, especially hooking a necklace bc of her metal fingers. she'd be letting out frustrated little grunts and huffs. she'll definitely mumbles some things like how you should stay with her all night, and that people are gonna be looking at you when you're hers. and while she'll be a little grumpy, she'll smile when you peck her lips and promise her to let her have to tonight.

maria hill

maria might be distracted you while you're getting ready, but when she turns to face the goddess of her girlfriend, her jaw will drop and she'll do a double take. she'll rush over to you and just stare. like a pervy teenager. she actually offer help just so she can be close to you. and if you ask for help with your dress she zip it down instead. she'll kiss your back and shoulders until you collect yourself enough to tell her to actually help. she'll hesitantly zip it up and whisper sweet nothings into your ear. then maria turns you around and makes out with you really passionately, ruining your lipstick in the process.

kate bishop

she'll try to be like all respectful and not look at you when you're putting on you're dress but she'll turn around just wanting a peek. then katie gets super flustered and turns super red. she'll definitely turning mush. when you ask her for help zipping up your dress she's be nervous for no reason. smelling your sweet scent and hearing you're soft breaths makes her so happy. she just feels like she's living her dream and she couldn't be happier. she'll keep repeating praises too. just lost in the thought of you. you're beauty makes katie go mush.

a/n yalls request are so fire and i'm getting to all of them but HERE YOU GO BABIES also i'm going to be trying to pump out a lot of writing rn