#so intriguing to me. like what’s going on there i can’t wait to find out

[brittlebutch]

the thing that intrigues me the most about the upcoming episode is that — while i could be wrong — it seems to me like the creatures kind of actually like Sean. like, the thing disguised as Draven at the top of the episode was trying to reassure Sean that he doesn’t have to feel obligated to run himself ragged doing chores in exchange for being allowed to live in the chapterhouse, tried to empathize with him over their losses, etc. all in addition to the “we’re just the same” comment they keep making — manipulation has not seemed to be part of their MO so far, I think it’s possible they actually mean something by it, and i’m curious to see how that might color the latter half of that final confrontation

[moonstruckme]

OMGGGGGGG

the first kiss was so cute!!! perfect!! james was so sweet and gentle w her😍😭😭

can’t wait to see there dynamic from now on

Thank you gorgeous! I held onto this so I'd have something to post this last part to, hope you don't mind <3

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

James is buzzing while he makes breakfast the next morning. Golden morning light pours in through the front windows, brightening the kitchen and warming his back where he stands in front of the stove, the buttery smell of pancake batter wafting up from the pan. He’d gone to bed later than usual last night and slept hard but woke jittery, desperate to do something about the commotion in his chest. 

A run hadn’t done it, nor had replaying the previous night in his head, and now he’s convinced he won’t be able to rest until he can kiss you again. It’s your fault, really. Your little sighs, your careful touches, the way you’d tugged at the roots of his hair when he asked you to, like all this time you’d only been waiting for permission. You’ve fucked him. James will never be able to get over it. Now, all he can think about is getting more. 

He’s made more pancakes than a family of five could eat when he hears the stair creak. 

“Good morning,” he says, turning around just as you pad into the kitchen, quiet as a ghost. 

Your eyes are bleary, but they still manage to widen slightly as you take him in, along with the precarious tower of pancakes beside him. You’re in that sweatshirt he loves so much, sleeves hanging limply from your hands and hem hitting just above your knees. 

“Morning,” you say, softer than soft. 

“How’d you sleep, lovely?” 

You shrug, not quite looking at him. “Fine. You?” 

James grins. “Beautifully. You want some pancakes?” 

Your gaze goes again to the stack beside him, and he can practically see the quip brewing in your eyes. Doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice. Are you planning to feed an army?

“Sure,” you say in that same quiet voice. “Thanks.” 

James studies you, intrigued. “Great. C’mere, sweetheart.” 

He plates up a few pancakes, keeping one eye on you as he does. You seem disinclined to look even in his general direction, finding distractions with the stove, your plate, the weather outside. 

“How’s this?” He turns around with the plate. You take it cautiously, by the complete opposite end to avoid any possibility of making contact with his hand. James’ heart warms at the way your fingers just peek out from the sleeve of your sweatshirt to grasp the plate. He wants to kiss you until you don’t know what day it is. “Too many? Not enough?” 

“This is good.” 

“Yeah?” He doesn’t let go of the plate. He tilts his head, trying to catch your eye, but you evade him. He has a hunch that if he were to touch your face (and god, does he want to) he’d find it burning hot. “Are you alright?” 

Your eyes flit up to his for a half a second before fleeing again. You hum, the sound tense and pitchy. “Mhm.” 

“You sure?” he asks, matching your soft tone. “Don’t go getting shy on me now.” 

You look like you stop breathing. 

And ordinarily James might feel bad, but post-kiss James cannot be prevailed upon to treat you as cautiously as he ordinarily might. Unfortunately for you, your secret’s out. You’re lovely, you’d said, voice soft and breathy and mere inches from his own mouth, I like having you around. I do. I really like you. Also unfortunately for you, post-kiss James knows things. 

He slips his palm alongside your face, working his hand behind your ear and letting his fingers burrow into the hair behind it. You melt, leaning into the touch. Your eyes meet his. 

It’s grueling work to keep from smiling. “What’s wrong, angel?” 

“Nothing’s wrong,” you say, still quietly but now with more of yourself in your voice. 

“Really? Because you’re acting like we’ve just met.” 

“Don’t you—don’t things feel different to you?” You seem almost distressed, eyebrows hooking upwards just slightly, pretty eyes imploring. Your voice softens again, now more with intimacy than reticence. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to talk with you about.” 

James lets his smile loose, thumbing at the skin behind your ear before letting you go. “We can talk about anything you want,” he says simply, grabbing his own plate and leading you into the living room. 

You’ve got a perfectly good kitchen table but almost never use it, each preferring to eat your meals on the couch. He flops down, careful not to tip his pancakes onto the cushion as he crosses his legs underneath him like you’re at a sleepover. 

“So, have any fun dreams last night?”  

You smile. It’s as heart-stoppingly lovely as always, and James thinks his own probably doubles in magnitude in response. 

“A couple,” you admit. 

“Oh? What about?” 

Your smile goes sheepish, bottom lip slipping in between your teeth as if to impede its progress. You fork clinks against the plate as you start cutting up your pancake. 

James’ brain short-circuits. 

“You were in my dream,” he blurts. 

Your eyes flit up to his warily. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah. It was one of those weird, super vivid dreams where nothing really happens, you know?” You seem to relax a bit. James douses his pancakes in syrup, starting to cut them up as he talks. “We were here, and someone had spilled something on the rug—probably Sirius, to be honest—and it made this huge stain. I’d tried to pour baking soda on it, but the whole box had collapsed and it got everywhere. We were both sitting right there scrubbing with literal toothbrushes, and I think I was worried you’d be upset with me but you were just laughing.” His heart warms at the pseudo-memory, the hazy feeling of contentment that had permeated the dream. The sound of your laugh, exactly as sweet as in real life. “Your hands were totally covered in baking soda, and the rug was ruined, but we were both laughing our heads off.” 

You’re smiling again, a small, knowing thing. “Had you said something to make us laugh?” 

“No,” he says honestly, “I think it was you.” 

James is aware that he’s barely functioning. It’s almost too much to talk and cut his pancakes at the same time while you’re looking at him like that, like he’s the loveliest thing you’ve ever seen. It makes it both a relief and a disappointment when you drop your gaze. 

“Do you think the stain might’ve been a premonition?” you ask. 

He raises his eyebrows. “How do you mean?” 

You laugh, and he’s instantly spellbound, caught somewhere between fantasy and reality. It takes him a second to realize you’re touching the edge of his plate, tipping it up. James looks down. It had been nearly falling off his lap, his pancakes cut up into tiny pieces and syrup pooled near the rim. 

You look up at him, seraphim with the morning light brightening your features and the hint of a smile playing on your lips. He thinks of how soft they’d felt on his the night before, the way they’d fallen open like welcoming him home. 

“You were almost spilling syrup onto the rug,” you say, that rare and beloved teasing lilt to your voice. “It would’ve taken more than baking soda to get that out.” 

“See?” he asks. “You know how to talk to me just fine.” 

You look surprised, then self-conscious, though not nearly as bad as when you’d come into the kitchen a few minutes ago. He covers your hand with his to keep you from going anywhere. Sets his plate on the coffee table. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

Your eyes are wide. “Again?” 

“Yes, again,” James laughs. “And again after that, preferably. Only if it’s okay with you.” 

You shake your head, looking something akin to bewildered. “Yeah. Yeah, please.” 

He starts to lean toward you, and you meet him halfway. Already, it’s a bit different. There’s no tentative stillness, no slow yielding. Your lips are pliant and eager, parting and closing around his like you’re trying to get as much of him as you can. Your fingers wind in his hair without instruction, and James responds by placing his hand in that spot you’d seemed to like it so well last night, the material of your sweatshirt soft beneath his touch. You taste like his pancakes, the syrup sweet on your tongue. 

“Keep talking to me,” he murmurs, kissing the corner of your lips worshipfully, “okay?” 

Your voice is breathless. “Why?” 

“Because I like you.” He tugs at you, wanting you closer. “And I think I’ve put in the work for you to warm up to me, if it’s all the same to you.” 

You make a tiny, amused sound. “Fine,” you say. You grow bolder, kissing your way up his cheek, the top of his eyebrow, until your nose is nestled in his hair and your lips are caressing his forehead. “Consider me warmed.” 

James grins, unable to help himself. He thinks that becoming your friend didn’t go quite as he planned, but he feels as though he won in the end.

[daycourtofficial]

Rejection

Summary: After some drinks, Azriel finds out you’ve been keeping a secret from him.

Author’s note: hehe what kinda crack was I given I hope yall feel fed these days

“Nothing stings quite like rejection,” you say, taking another sip from your class. A loud laugh fills the air.

“There’s no way you’ve ever been rejected,” Cassian tells you, popping open another bottle of wine.

You roll your eyes, “I’ve been rejected before, Cass.”

Cassian doesn’t look at you as he pries the cork out of the bottle, foregoing a glass and drinking straight from the bottle before he says, “by who? Someone blind who can’t smell?”

You’re taken aback, “by someone who can’t smell?”

He shrugs, “you smell really nice.”

You smile a little, “thank you?”

“Who was it?” Feyre asks from the other side of Cassian, moving her legs beneath her.

You, Cassian, Feyre, Nesta, and Azriel were lounging around the sitting room, each drinking from a bottle of wine, reminiscing on past love lives.

Azriel looks at you as your cheeks heat, telling her, “it’s too embarassing, you’ll laugh.”

“Were they out of your league?” Nesta asks, intrigued by the new topic.

You gulp down your wine, making eye contact with her steely gaze, “uh, yes, definitely.”

Cassian’s laugh is boisterous as he claps your back, “well tell us. Who could be out of your league?”

Feyre laughs, “yeah I think we need to know so we can go see this perfect specimen.”

Your face is even redder, at both the compliment and knowing who it was. You sigh, knowing they’ll never give up until they find out who it was.

“Okay fine,” you say, breathing in deeply. “A few decades ago, after a high lord’s meeting, I asked someone out, they agreed, and then they didn’t show up.”

“Ouuuuuuch,” Cassian drawls, “what an idiot. That hurts worse than being told no.”

“Yeah,” you respond, “it was embarrassing, but I don’t harbor any bad feelings about them.”

You turn to see Feyre thinking about something. “If it was at a high lords meeting, surely we know them then?” Feyre asks.

Your heart begins beating out of your chest, “oh, you definitely know him.”

“It’s a him! It’s a him!” Cassian shouts as you finish off your wine, opening a new bottle.

Rhys strolls into the room at all the commotion, looking as his family devours his wine collection.

“What’s the point in buying all this wine if you all drink it without me?” He strolls towards Feyre, kissing her on the head before sitting next to her.

“She was just about to tell us about when she got stood up for a date after a high lord’s meeting.”

“Ah,” Rhys says, “when you asked out Azriel.”

Everyone stills, and your eyes are glued on the drink in your hand. The blood is rushing through your ears, but you make out a soft what amongst the noise.

Cassian throws his head back laughing, “you asked out Az? And he stood you up?”

His laugh is booming through the room, but not for the reason you think. You fold into yourself a bit, shoulders sagging as Cassian says, “that’s cold, brother.”

Azriel does not address his brother’s taunts, eyes focused on you.

“You never asked me out.”

“Yes I did. I asked you out to this bar, you said yes, and I waited there for a bit before giving up.”

“No you didn’t,” he says, pouring through his memories of all the meetings he’s attended over the years.

“Az, it’s fine. There are no hard feelings. You changed your mind or didn’t want to hurt my feelings by saying no.”

“No it’s not fine. I would have been there.”

You finally, finally look up at him.

Az turns his attention from you to Rhys, “how did you know she asked me out but I didn’t? What high lord meeting even was this?”

Rhys waves his hand, “it was before Amarantha.”

Feyre tenses at the name, but Rhys goes on.

“During a break I heard her ask you out, but Beron began speaking to me about something, pulling my attention away. I assumed you two went out and there just wasn’t anything there.”

“Which meeting was this?” Azriel asks.

Rhys blows out a breath, “Tarquin’s father wanted to talk about Amarantha and the threat she posed. We were in Dawn for close to a week with discussions that led nowhere.”

You wanted the ground to open a riff and swallow you whole. You even sent Feyre some thoughts.

I’ll give you anything if you kill me right here.

Her melodic laugh fills your mind.

Az adores you, though. I’m shocked he didn’t show up.

She pauses, then her voice rings again.

Also you’re hot as hell, who would say no?

You give her an exasperated look and are about to resign yourself to leave and never, ever interact with any of your friends again when Azriel’s voice picks up.

“I left that meeting early,” Az says, remembering, “one of my spies needed out, I had to go extract them discreetly.”

He looks at you, “it took a few days because they got seriously injured and I wanted to ensure they were okay before coming back. By the time I was done, discussions were over and we were back home in Velaris.”

His face falls a bit, “I-I completely forgot. I am.. so sorry.”

“I appreciate the apology but it was ages ago, I figured you got caught up with something or said yes because you didn’t want to hurt my feelings.”

“I said yes because I wanted to go.”

The two of you look at each other, forgetting everyone else was there.

He stands, walking towards you, extending a hand.

“I’m quite late, but would you like to accompany me this evening?”

You put your hand in his as shadows envelop the both of you.

The last the inner circle hears from the two of you is a soft yes on the wind.

[pucksandpower]

Bet on It

Charles Leclerc x Marko!Reader

Summary: Charles will do anything for you to finally give him the time of day … even if that means betting on himself to pull off the impossible in exchange for a date with you

“Charles, don’t even start,” you raise your hand to stop him before he can get the words out.

His mouth closes and he looks at you with those puppy dog eyes, like a sad little boy who just got told he can’t have ice cream before dinner.

You have to resist the urge to laugh. Does he really think that’s going to work on you? You’ve seen that look a hundred times before, whenever you turn him down for a date.

Which is every time he’s asked.

“Come on, Y/N,” he pleads. “Just one date, that’s all I’m asking for.”

You shake your head, arms crossed over your chest. “Nope, not gonna happen.”

He runs a hand through his hair in frustration. That tousled mop looks like it hasn’t seen a comb in days. Somehow he manages to make the just-rolled-out-of-bed look work.

“Give me one good reason why not,” he challenges.

“I’ll give you three,” you fire back. “One, you’re an F1 driver, which means you have an ego the size of a not-so-small country. Two, you’re my team’s biggest rival. And three, you’re a player.”

He puts a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “Moi? I would never.”

You fix him with a pointed stare and his innocent act crumbles.

“Okay fine, maybe I used to be,” he admits. “But I’m not like that anymore. I’m ready to settle down, and I want to do that with you.”

“Uh huh, sure you are,” you say skeptically. “I’m not some pitlane groupie. I don’t just fall all over myself for handsome drivers with dreamy eyes.”

His face lights up. “You think I have dreamy eyes?”

You feel your cheeks flush. Crap. You did not mean to let that slip out.

“That’s not the point,” you say quickly. “The point is, the answer is no. It’s always going to be no. So you can stop asking me out already.”

You turn on your heel to walk away, but he reaches out and gently grabs your wrist. You pause, looking back at him.

“Just one date,” he says again, green eyes boring into yours. “Give me a chance to prove myself. If you don’t have a good time, I’ll never ask you out again.”

You consider his offer. One date, that’s all he’s asking for. And really, what’s the harm? It’s not like you have to marry the guy if you go to dinner with him once.

Still … this is Charles Leclerc you’re dealing with. Who knows what kind of charms and flirtatious tricks he’d pull out to try and win you over? You know you find him attractive — those eyes really are dreamy — but getting involved with him would be messy, to say the least. Your grandfather would flip.

“I don’t think so,” you say firmly. “Like I already told you, it’s not going to happen.”

His face falls. For a second you feel a twinge of guilt. He looks so dejected. But then that spark of mischief is back in his eyes. Uh oh. You know that look. The wheels are turning. He’s got an idea.

“Okay, how about we make this interesting,” he says slowly. “If I win the race this weekend, you have to go on a date with me.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. Is he serious right now?

“Let me get this straight … you want to make a bet involving the outcome of the race, when it’s at the Red Bull Ring, our team’s home track, where Max has won four times in the last six seasons? With the rocket ship of a car that is the RB20?” You shake your head in disbelief. “I thought you were supposed to be smart.”

He shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. “I never said it was a sure thing. But if I manage to pull it off, then you have to hold up your end of the bargain.”

You consider his proposition. On the one hand, the chances of him winning in the Ferrari this weekend are not great. Statistically, Max is the clear favorite. So there’s really no risk of you actually having to go on a date with Charles.

On the other hand, you have to admit the idea is intriguing. And knowing Charles beat the odds to win would be kinda hot ...

Wait, what are you thinking? Get it together, Y/N! This is a terrible idea.

But before you can talk yourself out of it, you hear yourself saying, “Alright, you’re on.”

A wide grin spreads across Charles’ handsome face. “Yeah? We have a bet then?”

You nod, already wondering if you’ve made a huge mistake. “Yep. But don’t look so cocky. The chances of you winning are like a million to one.”

“We’ll see about that,” he says with a wink. Then he glances down at his watch. “I better go. See you in part fermé after the race.”

He turns and saunters off. You watch him go, heart sinking. What on earth have you just agreed to?

***

Your stomach is in knots on race day. You tried to play it cool in front of Charles, but the truth is, you are desperately hoping he does not win this race. One date with him and you know you’ll be a goner. You’re already more attracted to him than you want to admit.

You watch from the Red Bull garage as the cars go around on the formation lap. Charles is starting P5, with Max on pole. The odds are heavily in the World Champion’s favor.

But still … plenty of drivers have won from worse positions. And this is Charles Leclerc you’re talking about. When he sets his mind to something, he’s unstoppable.

The red lights go out and Max gets a clean start, streaking away into the lead. Charles has a decent launch off the line too, but he can’t challenge Max going into turn 1. He slots into P5 behind Lando Norris as they thunder down the straight for the first time.

Your grandfather shoots you a look from across the garage, one eyebrow quirked. He knows about the bet. He wasn’t exactly thrilled when you told him, but amusement seemed to win out over anger in the end. Probably because he’s just as confident as you are that Charles has no chance today.

The race unfolds lap after lap. Max opens up a huge gap while fighting rages behind him. Charles battles with the Mercedes of Lewis Hamilton, exchanging positions several times. By lap 20, Charles is up to P4, having pulled off a stellar overtake around the outside of turn 7.

Half distance comes and goes. Charles is closing in on Checo and George Russell ahead of him. He’s clearly got the bit between his teeth today. You watch with bated breath as he pulls alongside the Red Bull and Mercedes into turn 4, the three drivers going wheel to wheel with barely any room to spare. Charles emerges ahead and suddenly he’s P2.

Your grandfather shoots you another look. “He’s on the podium,” he remarks.

You bite your lip. You don’t need the reminder. Ugh, you knew you shouldn’t have agreed to this.

With 15 laps to go, Max’s engine unexpectedly lets go in a plume of smoke. Your grandfather curses while the Red Bull mechanics stare at the screens in disbelief. Charles swoops through into P1 with Checo behind him, the Ferrari now running up a solid lead.

Barring disaster, Charles is going to win this race. Which means you’re going to have to go on a date with him.

You watch the final laps tick down with growing dread. The checkered flag waves and the Ferrari garage erupts in celebration. Charles pulls the car to a stop and rips off his helmet, beaming from ear to ear. Even from here you can see the pure joy and elation on his face.

He jumps out of the cockpit and is immediately mobbed by his team. You try to slip away unnoticed, but one of the Ferrari press officers flags you down.

“Charles wants to see you for the podium celebration,” he says.

You close your eyes briefly in defeat. There’s no getting out of this now. Slowly you follow the man out to the cool down room. Charles is just coming out, still flushed with victory. When he sees you, his whole face lights up.

“I told you I could do it,” he crows, pulling you into an exuberant hug before you can protest. He smells like petrol and sweat.

“Yeah, yeah, congratulations,” you mumble into his race suit.

He grins down at you. “Don’t look so sad. I promise you’ll have fun.”

You force a smile, but inside your heart is sinking. One date with Charles and you know you’ll never be able to resist him again.

The podium passes in a blur. You manage to avoid any interviews, not trusting yourself not to say something you’ll regret on camera. Like what a cocky, arrogant, too-handsome-for-his-own-good flirt Charles is.

After what feels like an eternity of spraying champagne and cheering crowds, Charles finally finds you again. His hair is still damp and curled wildly from the celebratory drink.

Charles playfully wipes a splash of sparkling wine from your cheek, his touch lingering for a moment.

“Sorry about that,” he says with a twinkle in his eye.

You just shake your head, unable to stop the smile spreading across your face. His joy is infectious.

“I believe you owe me a date,” he says, looking far too pleased with himself.

You sigh, resigned to your fate. “I guess I did make a deal. When do you want to do this?”

“No time like the present.” He glances at his watch. “I’ll pick you up at 7. Wear something nice.”

Your eyes widen. Tonight? You were hoping to have a little more time to mentally prepare yourself. But before you can object, he leans in and presses a swift kiss to your cheek.

“See you tonight, Y/N.”

Then he’s gone, strolling back to the Ferrari garage like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Meanwhile, your heart is thudding against your ribs. You touch your cheek where his lips branded your skin.

You just hope you have the strength not to give in to his charms completely. One date. That’s it. You are not going to fall for Charles Leclerc.

No matter how dreamy his eyes are.

***

The doorbell rings at 7pm sharp. You take a deep breath and smooth down your dress before opening the door.

Charles stands there looking unfairly handsome in a sharp charcoal suit. His eyes light up when he sees you.

“Wow,” he says, gaze traveling appreciatively over you. “You look amazing.”

You feel yourself blush. “Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself.”

He grins and offers you his arm. “Shall we?”

You loop your hand through his elbow and let him lead you to his car. He opens the door for you like a true gentleman. This sweet, chivalrous side is one you’ve never seen before. Already he’s subverting your expectations.

During the drive, Charles asks you questions and listens intently to your answers. He’s completely focused on you, making you feel like the most fascinating person in the world. By the time you arrive at the restaurant, a lovely Italian place near the city center, you’re feeling much more at ease.

Dinner passes enjoyably with playful, flirtatious conversation. Charles has you laughing one minute and blushing the next with his charm and undivided attention. He seems to know just what to say to make you smile. Not an ounce of cockiness or ego shows through.

After you polish off a shared tiramisu, Charles suggests a walk through the nearby park. You happily agree. As you stroll beneath the trees, he tentatively reaches for your hand. When you thread your fingers through his, the smile that lights up his face melts your heart.

You talk softly, learning more about each other. He asks thoughtful questions and shares things about himself that surprise you. Like his close relationship with his family, his secret talent for cooking (which you don’t believe for a second), and his love for composing music.

When he shyly admits he’s never felt this way about anyone before, you don’t doubt his sincerity for a moment. He means every word.

Too soon you’ve looped back to where you started and flag down the valet before making the drive back to the hotel. Charles walks you to your door, still holding your hand like he never wants to let go.

“I had a really nice time tonight,” you say softly.

“Me too.” He moves closer, searching your eyes. “I’d really like to see you again.”

Your breath catches at his closeness and the intensity in his gaze. The wise thing would be to end this now before it goes any further. But his hopeful, heart eyes crumble your resolve.

“I’d like that too,” you whisper.

A smile blooms on his face right before he leans in and kisses you. It’s soft and sweet, sending tingles down to your toes. When he pulls back, eyes shining, you know you’re a goner.

One date turns into two, then three, then suddenly you’re spending every weekend together, traveling between races. Charles goes out of his way to meet up with you, even when it means long flights in between events. Holding you in his arms seems to be the only thing that matters.

When he shyly asks you to be his girlfriend, you don’t hesitate a second before saying yes. The kiss he gives you leaves no doubt about his happiness.

Your grandfather is wary at first, but Charles is relentless, assuring him at every chance how deeply he cares about you. Eventually Helmut accepts that the man gazing at you like you hung the stars is nothing like the flirtatious playboy he assumed.

This is the real Charles — sweet, thoughtful, and absolutely devoted.

The two of you become inseparable. Charles arrives at every race with your hand clasped in his, making sure to greet your grandfather before and after with a handshake and sincere well wishes. He stays close through successes and disappointments, as you become his steadfast supporter.

At night you lay tangled together, talking late into the darkness. He whispers secrets no one else knows and you bare your soul in return. You’ve never felt more understood by someone. In his arms is your favorite place in the world.

When he shyly gives you a key to his Monaco apartment, tears fill your eyes. Calling it home feels as natural as breathing.

Whenever you walk through the door, his eyes light up like you’re the answer to every prayer. He sweeps you into his arms, holding you close as he whispers “I missed you.”

Charles looks at you like he’s seeing his future. “I want this forever,” he murmurs against your lips.

You look into those watercolor eyes and know you never stood a chance at resisting. “Me too.”

***

The new season kicks off and you’re thrilled to be back in the paddock with Charles. The only downside is having to part ways when you reach the garages, going to opposite sides of the divide.

You’ve gotten used to your Red Bull team gear. The colors are familiar, almost comforting. Charles has gently brought up the idea of you wearing Ferrari red instead, but you just can’t bring yourself to do it. That would feel like the ultimate betrayal.

Charles accepts your decision with his usual grace. He knows how difficult this situation is for you, caught between loyalties. But the gleam in his eye tells you he hasn’t given up on swaying you yet.

Sure enough, as Monza approaches, Charles issues a new challenge.

“If I win our home race, you have to wear Ferrari merch next time,” he coaxes, punctuating his request with a kiss.

You pretend to think about it. “Hmm, I guess I could do that.” Seeing his smile light up melts your reluctance.

Charles takes pole position on Saturday, amping up the pressure. Still, you’re not too worried. Max has this in the bag.

Famous last words. You really should have learned better the first time.

Only Max doesn’t have it in the bag. Charles drives a flawless race and takes the victory, the Tifosi crowd exploding with delirious joy. Charles standing proudly atop the podium in front of the sea of fans is a sight you’ll never forget.

Now you have to hold up your end of the bargain.

The next race weekend you show up with a red Ferrari team shirt stretched across your shoulders, a matching cap gracing your head. You feel like a fraud, but a deal’s a deal.

You’re trying to sneak through the paddock unnoticed when a reporter flags you down.

“Y/N, care to explain the new look?” She asks, eyeing your outfit.

You shift awkwardly, grasping for words. “Oh, um, well ...”

Before you can formulate a response, an excited voice interrupts. “That’s my girl!”

Charles appears out of nowhere and throws an arm around you, beaming at the camera.

“Everybody’s a Ferrari fan.” He declares. “Even if they say they’re not, they are Ferrari fans.”

He emphasizes this point by planting a kiss directly on your mouth. You flush crimson but can’t help smiling against his lips.

Pulling back, he winks and shoots the camera a million dollar grin. “She looks good in red, no?”

With that he steers you away, leaving the reporter chuckling behind you.

“You’re terrible,” you scold Charles, but you’re laughing too.

He just grins and kisses your temple. “Maybe so, but I’m your terrible boyfriend who you love very much, yes?”

You roll your eyes but snuggle closer into his side. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

Tomorrow you’ll be back in dark blue, but right now, wrapped in Charles’ embrace and seeing how happy it makes him, you can’t bring yourself to mind the color change too much.

Maybe eventually you’ll get used to alternating depending on whose garage you’re watching from that day. It seems Charles Leclerc has more sway over you than you ever could have imagined, enough to override even a lifetime of team loyalties.

And, as he looks at you like you’re the only woman on earth, you can’t find it in yourself to regret that fact one bit.

***

After the stunt Charles pulled with the interview, you decide turnabout is fair play. An idea starts forming, bringing a devious smile to your lips. Time for a little payback.

You bide your time, waiting for the perfect moment. Finally, an off weekend arrives where Charles is staying at your place. When he goes out to run errands on Saturday morning, you set your plan in motion.

A quick trip to Agent Provocateur provides the supplies you need. After Charles leaves, you slip into the dressing room and emerge wearing a sexy red lace teddy that leaves little to the imagination.

Checking yourself in the mirror, you make a few adjustments. The color is Ferrari red through and through. Charles’ eyes are going to bug out of his head when he sees you in this.

You hear the front door open right on cue. “Mon amour, I’m back!” Charles calls.

“In here!” You reply, reclining casually across the bed. You arrange yourself in a tempting pose and wait.

A moment later Charles appears in the doorway, loaded down with his own shopping bags. When he spots you, he freezes, jaw dropping. The bags tumble unheeded to the floor.

You bite your lip coyly. “Welcome home.”

“What … I … you …” Charles stammers, eyes round as saucers as they rove over you. He seems incapable of forming a coherent thought.

You toss your hair back with exaggerated nonchalance. “Oh this old thing? Just trying on some new clothes. What do you think?”

Charles makes a strangled noise, still rooted to the spot.

You take pity on him and pat the bed. “Why don’t you come over here and show me how much you like it?”

That snaps him out of his stupor. In two strides he’s across the room, mouth capturing yours hungrily. You melt into his kiss, winding your arms around his neck.

When you finally come up for air, his eyes are blazing. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

You trail a fingertip down his chest. “Payback for your little stunt.”

He grins sheepishly. “Okay, I deserved that. But this ...” His heated gaze travels over you again. “You look incredible. Only one thing would make it better ...”

He hurries over to his gear bag, rummaging excitedly. With a flourish, he produces his cap, a large 16 prominently embroidered on the front. Plopping it on your head, he steps back to admire the effect.

“Perfect,” he declares. Taking your hand, he tugs you to the full length mirror.

The vision staring back makes you catch your breath. The red teddy clinging to every curve, paired with Charles’ cap tilted rakishly on top of cascading hair … you have to admit it’s hot. No wonder Charles looks ready to combust.

His arms slide around you from behind, lips finding that sensitive spot beneath your ear. “Have I mentioned how sexy you look in red?” He murmurs.

You tilt your head to give him better access, sighing with pleasure. “Mmm, I think you better show me some more.”

Charles grins against your skin. “With pleasure.”

Scooping you up, he deposits you back on the bed and proceeds to worship every inch of the tantalizing red lingerie with hands, lips, and devoted words.

By the time he finally peels it off you, the teddy is a tattered scrap. But the awed look in his eyes makes it clear the effect is unforgettable.

Laying wrapped in each other’s arms afterward, you kiss the tip of his nose playfully. “So I take it you liked your surprise?”

“Liked it?” He shakes his head in wonder. “I absolutely loved it. You’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You snuggle into his chest, satisfied. “Well in that case, expect to see more Ferrari red in my collection in the future.”

His eyes light up. “You’re going to be the death of me. But what a way to go.”

You’ll have to add some rosso corsa to your closet. Not that you mind.

A small price to pay to see that look in his eyes, like you’re the answer to his wildest fantasies come true.

[katsu28]

rain, rain, (don't) go away

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: you put your trust in a handsome stranger in the midst of a bit of bizarre wet weather. what could go wrong? (4.6k)

warnings: minimal swearing

a/n: not quite the summer lando series i've been working on but the idea for this came to me in a dream a while ago lmao

It doesn’t often rain in Monaco. Especially not during the summer. 

So when you feel a drop splash against your forehead, then another, you’re wildly unprepared. You squint up at the rapidly darkening sky like it's personally wronged you, and you’re met with another raindrop, this time in your eye. 

Part of you wonders if you could try and make it home before it starts to pour. The other part knows it would be an impossible feat given your lack of a car and how far you’d have to run in such a short amount of time. Even as you ponder the thought, the occasional drops turn into a heavy drizzle. 

You barely make it under the nearest awning before it really starts to come down. All around you are people scrambling to get out of the rain and somewhere dry, caught off guard by the unexpected downpour like you are. 

“Crazy rain, huh?” You startle at the sound of a voice from next to you, gaze snapping to your left to see a man huddled under the same awning, most likely having come up with the same idea you did. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He apologizes, holding his hands up in surrender. “I take it you weren’t expecting rain when you left the house today either?” 

You scoff, chuckling. “Was anybody?” 

You tear your eyes away from the sky to look at him once more, and to say you’re pleasantly surprised is an understatement. 

Your awning buddy is awfully attractive, and looks to be around your age too. A form-fitting black sweater stretches across broad shoulders, paired with baggy blue jeans that might not have worked for everyone, but definitely suits him well. He’s smiling at you too, a lopsided grin that has you intrigued by him. “The one time I didn't check my weather app before I headed out.” 

“You actually check the weather app?” He chuckles, tilting his head. 

“You don’t?” 

“Can’t say that I do. Usually I just trust the vibes when I look out the window. Didn’t really work out today, though.” He holds his palm out from under the makeshift shelter, letting the rain pool in his hand before dumping it on the ground, flicking his fingers to rid them of the excess drops with a scrunched nose. “Is this your first time in Monaco?” 

You shook your head, smiling softly. “I live here. You?” He bobs his head, shoving his hands into his pockets. “It’s never rained like this though, especially this time of year.” 

“If it’s any consolation, I reckon it’ll stop soon. It’s usually pretty quick—” 

A bolt of lightning flashes through the sky right at that moment, followed by a clap of thunder not five seconds later. If it continues on like this, you might be stuck here forever. 

“Huh! Maybe not.” The man sounds amused, aiming a sympathetic smile at you. You can’t help but chuckle, and you notice it makes him perk up a bit, looking pleased with himself. “Hope you don’t have anywhere to be.” 

“Honestly? I don’t. But I’d rather not be standing under this awning til the storm lets up. Could be ages, by the looks of it.” 

A stream rushes its way down the street, carrying a sad swirl of leaves down the storm drain at the corner along with it. It seems everyone else has come to their senses and found somewhere warm and dry to wait out the sudden storm because when you look around, the two of you are the only ones still outside. 

As if the man can sense what you’re thinking, he speaks. He’s smiling hopefully at you, head tilted invitingly. “There’s a cafe down the block that was open before it started to rain. Care to join me?” 

Normally, you’d be wary about a handsome stranger inviting you to an unknown location. This seems like one of those situations you’ve been warned about, but right now you can’t find it in yourself to care. It’s about time you put yourself out there, take a chance for once. You’re pretty sure he won’t try to kidnap you. 

“I’d love to.” You reply. You peer out at the dreary grey sky again, lips twisting into a grimace. “Is it just me or does it seem to be raining harder?” 

“I say we make a break for it. Run like hell on three.” He says firmly. You nod and he does the same, holding out his hand. You slip your fingers through his without a second thought. “One, two, three—go, go, go!” 

You both take off in a wild sprint down the sidewalk, splashing through puddles on your way. He giggles the whole time, peals of laughter bouncing off the cobbled street that sound gleeful. You’re laughing too, because who would’ve ever thought you’d be running through the rain hand in hand with a guy you’ve only just met?

He tugs you along, leading the way to your destination confidently. Well, as confident as one can while being half-blinded by a torrential downpour. 

You nearly slip as you make a poor attempt at a sudden stop when he finally slows, and you probably would’ve ended up flat on your ass if he hadn’t grabbed you by your forearms, steadying you with an infectious grin that you can’t help but return. 

The bell above the door rings when the two of you stumble inside, soaked to the bone even in the very short time it took to get down the road. But you know what they say, when it rains, it pours. 

He shakes the rainwater from his hair not unlike a dog would shake out its fur, and in the process splatters you with the droplets. Normally you wouldn’t be too happy about it, but you’re already drenched and he’s very cute, so you don’t mind. 

The place is pretty much empty when you look around, save for a handful of other patrons doing their own things. It’s cute though—cozy and warm, the smell of coffee beans and something sweet floating through the air. You never noticed it before, but it’s exactly the kind of cafe that you love. 

The man seems to notice that you’re still holding hands, because his cheeks turn pink and he drops it, smiling rather bashfully. 

“Sorry. I’m Lando, by the way.” He introduces himself softly, rubbing the back of his neck. You tell him your name and he repeats it, testing it out on his tongue. You’re not ashamed to admit you like the way it sounds when he’s the one saying it. “Nice to meet you.” 

“Nice to meet you too.” 

“I’m gonna go order something so they don’t think we’re loitering. Preferably something hot, because I’ve got water in places water definitely shouldn’t be.” He shudders, pulling his soggy sweater away from his torso as proof. “Do you want anything?” 

You ponder for a moment before responding. “A latte sounds amazing right now. I’ll pay you back, of course.” 

Lando shakes his head, backpedaling towards the counter. “My treat. You just sit there and look pretty.” You roll your eyes playfully at him, but smile nonetheless. “Oh look, you’re doing great already!” 

That makes your cheeks grow hot. You’ve just met Lando and he’s flirting with you, and you don't mind at all. In fact, you have half a mind to flirt back. 

He finds you at a table soon after, balancing two cups and a concerningly large paper bag. You pop to your feet, carefully grabbing the bag to ease the load, and peer into it. There’s at least five different pastries inside, all of them looking absolutely mouthwatering. 

“I hope you’re hungry. Got convinced to buy a few things by the lovely old lady at the counter.” Lando says sheepishly, sliding into the seat opposite you. “Very persuasive, she is.” 

You shrug. “I could eat.” 

You’re not sure how long you sit there, chatting with each other like you're the only two in the world. It’s surprisingly easy to talk to him too. He’s funny and quick-witted and he talks very animatedly with his hands, you notice. You find it cute. 

Lando tells you about himself, asks about you and your life story, and you find yourself settling in nicely with his friendly nature. This isn’t a date by any means, but he makes it feel like one by the way he truly pays attention to you and what you're saying, nodding along closely with rapt attention. As far as listeners go, he's a fantastic one. 

You’ve also learned a lot about him. He was born and raised in the UK, but moved here a few years ago for work. What exactly did for work, he wasn’t too forthcoming with, but you don’t pay it any mind. You’ve just met, after all. You’re not expecting him to tell you his whole life story. 

But it also doesn’t feel like you’ve just met. You aren’t sure why, but Lando has this way of making you feel like you’ve known each other for ages, of making you feel comfortable and at ease with every word out of his mouth. 

Your clothes and hair have just started to dry out a bit, and you’re having a great time. Such a nice time, you don’t even notice the girl approaching your table. Lando sees her before you do, and he smiles politely. 

“Hi, I’m so sorry to bother you guys, but are you Lando Norris?” She asks hopefully. She looks young, maybe fifteen or sixteen. Her eyes flick to you, and you can tell she’s nervous, so you smile back. You’re confused to say the least, but you remember what you were like at her age. She reminds you a bit of yourself. 

Lando nods. “I am, yeah. What’s your name?” 

“Valeria. But everyone here just calls me Val. I’m the owner’s granddaughter, so I work here all the time.” 

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Val.” 

She looks positively starstruck now, hands trembling as she holds up her phone. “Would you mind if I got a photo with you? You can totally say no if I’m interrupting something, I—” 

“You’re alright, love, don’t worry.” Lando stands, moving into selfie position next to her. The poor girl’s arm shakes so much you’re positive the photo won’t turn out clear at all, so you slide out of your seat too. 

“Here, let me.” You take the phone gently, motioning the two of them to scoot closer to get them in frame with each other. 

Val looks a combination of relieved and grateful, while Lando gives off nothing but a cool, albeit reserved, confidence. The same kind of confidence a celebrity might have when approached by a fan of theirs. But certainly Lando couldn’t be famous…right? 

You shake away the idea, snapping a handful of photos before passing it back to her, figuring there can never be too many to choose from. She beams bright, hugging him quickly, then to your surprise, gives you a hug as well. 

“Thank you so much! I’ll get out of your hair now. Enjoy your food!” With that, she hurries away with a bounce in her step, disappearing into the kitchen. 

You turn to Lando with arched brows. “That was interesting.” 

“So interesting.” He echoes, but his tone makes it sound like he doesn’t quite agree. 

“What are you, famous or something?” You mean it as a light jest, but Lando looks guilty for some reason. He beckons for you to take your seat again, sliding back into his own before offering you a sheepish smile. 

“Um, there might be something I haven’t told you yet.” 

“Shit, are you actually famous?” 

“...Yeah, kinda.” You arch a curious brow, and he sighs, but not in exasperation. “I’m a Formula One racing driver. For McLaren.”

Formula One…racing…it all sounds slightly familiar, but you can’t quite place it. Then it dawns on you. 

Lando isn’t just a local celebrity—he’s literally world famous. 

You’ve heard your friends talk about the races before, a few of your relatives who keep up with the sport, but you’d never paid it any mind. It just wasn’t something you could see yourself being interested in. That really famous race that takes place here in the streets every year that makes traffic an absolute fucking nightmare the whole week, Lando drives in that race, and countless others around the world, if you recall your limited knowledge correctly. 

He’s…cool. And he’s sitting right here with you in a tiny cafe, and you had no idea who he was. 

“Oh my god, you must think I live under a rock or something! This is so embarrassing, I—” 

“No, no! I’m not—I don’t go around expecting everyone to know who I am, I swear. It’s just that most people usually do recognize me, and it saves me the whole ‘having to tell them I’m famous’ thing, which always just makes things really awkward, and…yeah.” 

“Things don’t have to be awkward.” 

“No?” 

“No. We don’t even have to talk about it.” 

“We don’t?” He sounds a tad wary, but when you nod, the tension in his posture melts away. Relief floods his features at once. “Thank you. It’s actually quite nice to meet someone who has no idea what I do. Makes me feel normal for once.” 

“Glad my lack of sports knowledge makes you feel like a regular guy,” You joke, nudging his foot with yours under the table. He gives you a light kick in return, infectious smile back in full bloom once again. You quite like it when he smiles. 

You’ve just moved on to a new topic that has nothing to do with Lando’s job when his phone buzzes, making him jolt in surprise. He digs it out of his pocket, and when he sees the name flash across the screen, his eyes go wide. 

“Sorry, hang on. I’ve gotta get this.” He says, hitting the answer button. It’s a quick phone call, and you try your best not to eavesdrop, but whoever is on the other line has Lando worked up when he hangs up. 

“Everything okay?” You ask lightly. Lando bobs his head quickly. 

“Yeah, it’s—I, uh, I’ve gotta go. I forgot about a work event, apparently. That was my press officer, wondering where the hell I am and how fast I can get there.” He sounds disappointed, smiling almost sadly. “So much for feeling normal.” 

You try your best not to let your face fall when you nod. “I should get going too. Get home before the next freak summer rainstorm.” 

It’s nice when you step outside. You tilt your face up towards the sky, feeling the sun warm your face. This is the Monaco you know and love. Though if it hadn’t rained, you would’ve never met Lando. 

He turns to face you, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Thanks for the nice afternoon. I had a good time.” 

“Me too.” 

“Maybe I’ll see you around?” 

“Maybe you will.” 

“I certainly hope so.” He says softly. You shift slightly on the balls of your feet, suddenly feeling awkward. You’re not sure how to leave things with him, and it looks like he feels the same by the way he mirrors your actions. “Um, I really should leave, so…goodbye, I guess?” The look on his face tells you that leaving is the last thing he wants to do, but he has to. 

“Bye, Lando.” 

“Bye.” He echoes, one more time before turning away from you to head down the street. 

You can only bring yourself to wait a few seconds before you call his name again. He turns around instantly despite his hurry, meeting your gaze. You want to say something to him that’ll make him remember you, because chances are you’ll never cross paths again. If you were brave enough, maybe you'd even ask him for his number. But you’re not, so you don’t. Instead, you just smile at him. 

“Thanks for the latte.” 

If he’s disappointed, he hides it well. He smiles back at you, warm and bright like the sun beginning to peek out from behind the clouds. “Of course.” 

You watch him walk away, fighting that pesky little feeling in your gut telling you that you’re making a mistake by letting him go. It’ll go away soon, and you’ll go on with your life like you’re meant to. 

-------

You find yourself going back to the same cafe often, whenever you're out and want a little treat before you go home. The pastries are always still as delicious as the first time you had them, and you’ve become well acquainted with the staff as the time goes on. 

Oh, and that feeling you had when you let Lando leave without a word? 

It never went away. It’s still here, worming its way into your thoughts every chance it can get. 

You’re a little embarrassed to admit that every time you walk into the cafe, you hope you’ll see Lando. It’s wishful thinking more than anything, hoping he’ll be there when you go. He’s probably busy doing his thing anywhere but here, busy racing around in the world to the tune of thousands of screaming fans. You’re not sure if he even remembers you, or the afternoon you’d spent together. 

Why would he? In the world of Lando Norris, world famous Formula One driver, you’re probably just a speck of dirt in his rearview mirror. 

The thought gets pushed to the back of your mind as you step up to the counter to order. Val beams at you from behind the register. 

“Hey, Val,” You greet the young girl warmly, returning her smile. You’ve become quite fond of her and her youthful energy, and she always brightens your day. “How’s business going?” 

“Oh you know, same old.” Val waves an absentminded hand in the air as she keys in your usual order with the other. Her smile turns mischievous at the same time, like she knows something you don’t, and you narrow your eyes at her, already knowing what she's going to ask. “Have you heard from Lando?” 

“No, I haven’t. How’s summer school going?” 

She makes a funky face at you, rolling her eyes. “Boring. Way to change the subject though.” Before she can press any more about Lando, someone calls her name from the kitchen. “Ugh, I’ll be right back. Make yourself comfy, wait for your order, you know the drill!” 

You chuckle to yourself, heading straight for your usual table by the window to wait for your name to be called. 

You like to sit while you enjoy your food and drink, watching the people and cars go by outside. The streets of Monaco are always busy and bustling, but being in here feels like a pocket of peace. 

“Is this seat taken?” 

Your brow crinkles at the sudden voice, because you know for a fact there are at least four or five other empty tables available other than the one you’re currently sitting at, but this person chose to to ask you. 

Pocket of peace…disrupted. 

You let out a short sigh through your nose, turning your head from the window to politely tell them to find another seat, preferably at a table that isn’t yours, and that’s when you see him. 

Lando is grinning at you when you look over, lopsided and endearing just like the first time you met him. 

“Oh fuck!” You can’t help the expletive that falls from your mouth at the sight of him, even though there’s a thousand other things you’d told yourself you’d say to Lando if you ever saw him again. He’s got his hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants, and he’s rocking on the balls of his feet slightly like he’s nervous as he waits for you to do something other than curse at him. “Lando! I—you—hi.” 

“Hi,” He echoes, shoulders creeping up towards his ears. All you can do is stare at him, wide eyed in disbelief. “Mind if I sit?” 

“Yes. I mean, no. I mean, yes, you can sit.” You fumble over your words like you’re not used to speaking, feeling your cheeks flame embarrassingly hot. Lando just chuckles, sliding into the chair across from you. “Um, so how’ve you been?” 

He rubs at the back of his neck, bobbing his head. “Good! Bit busy. We had a triple header the last three weeks, so it’s just nice to be home again.” 

“Oh, I bet. I don’t think I’d be very good company if I couldn’t sleep in my own bed for three straight weeks.” 

“That’s fair. Though to be honest, I’ve gotten scarily good at falling asleep anywhere. If it’s a flat surface, I can nap.” 

“I don’t know whether to be impressed or concerned.” 

“Impressed would be mint. Otherwise I just sound like a dumbass.” 

You laugh at that, and in this moment, you realize just how much you’ve missed Lando. No matter how many times you’ve tried to convince yourself to forget about him, to convince yourself that there was no point in pining after someone you’d only spent a few hours with, it all came back to this. You missed him because you like him. 

“I need to tell you something.” He blurts suddenly, bracing his elbows on the table. 

You nod, expression turning thoughtful. Whatever thoughts you’re having about liking Lando can wait. “Sure, go ahead.” 

“This is gonna sound unbelievably weird and maybe even a little bit creepy, but I need to get it off my chest or else I think I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.” If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that Lando looked nervous. The bouncing of his leg you can feel under the table and the way he plays with his fingers supports your theory. 

You cock your head at him, reaching across the surface to steady his fidgeting with a hand over both of his. His gaze snaps down to your touching hands, and you can see him visibly gulp. 

“What’s going on? Are you okay, is something wrong?” 

He shakes his head quickly. “No, nothing’s wrong. Everything is…the opposite, really. Everything is right. Meeting you, finding my way back to you—here of all places. I don’t believe in fate or anything like that, but this sure feels like something along those lines.” 

“Lando, I—”

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that afternoon. I tried everything. Nothing worked. I couldn’t get you out of my head.” He confesses. His fingers curl around yours gently, thumb stroking over the ridges of your knuckles. “If I’m being completely with myself, I think it’s because I didn’t want to get you out of my head. And I just got off the plane an hour ago, but instead of going home and passing out like I usually do, I came here, hoping that somehow, you’d be here too.” 

“Can I say something now?” You ask lightly, stifling a giggle. 

His cheeks flush an embarrassed pink, and he motions for you to go ahead. “Yeah, yeah, sorry. I talk too much when I get nervous. I’m working on it, I—fuck, sorry again. You go. I’ll shut up.” 

“I still think it’s cute.”

“Is that the only thing about me you still think is cute, or…?” 

That gets another laugh out of you. You chuckle, giving his hand a squeeze. “Not at all. I still think all of you is cute, and…I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you either. We haven’t known each other long, but I really like you, Lando.”  

“I could kiss you right now.” 

“What’s stopping you?”

You don’t have time to second guess your newfound confidence before he’s leaning across the table, sliding a large hand over your jaw and pressing his lips against yours. Lando kisses you softly—gentle, like he’s worried you’ll pull away if he’s too forward with it. 

You’re fully aware that you’re smiling like a madman against his lips, but in your defense, he is too. His eyes open slowly when you pull away, almost tentatively as if he’s not quite sure what just happened actually happened. 

He leans back just enough to study you, letting his gaze flit around your face, taking in every detail he possibly can. All while he grins larger than Cheshire cat, like he’s a kid whose parents just told them they could get whatever they wanted at the candy shop, instead of kissing you for the first time. 

“I was gonna be nice and bring you your order, but it looks like you’ve already got something sweet.” Val’s voice cuts through the moment, and when you look over at her, she looks over the moon. 

“Lando, you remember Val, right?” 

“Uh huh,” Lando hums, holding out his hand for a fist bump that she happily gives him. “Thanks again for the heads up.” 

“Hold on, what? What heads up?” 

The two of them share a look, like they’re debating whether or not to tell you their secret. Then Lando sighs, giving her a go ahead nod, and she squeals, setting your food down. 

“Okay, so you know how you come in here all the time after work? Well me, being the keenly observant, brilliant young mind I am, noticed a pattern. You come on the same days, at the same time, and you never stray.” She explains excitedly, all but bouncing on the balls of her feet. You aim a questioning glance over at Lando, who just gives another amused nod.

Val continues excitedly, “So I’m expecting you today, right? But then the door opens and guess who walks in? Lando! He asks me if you’ve ever come back here after that one day and I’m like oh my god, you have no idea! So I tell him to wait a half hour for you, and now you’re both here and my matchmaking skills can be put to rest.”

“Are you being serious right now? Really, I can’t tell.” 

She tilts her head, popping a hand on her hip. For the same girl who’d been so nervous to meet Lando just weeks ago, she’s got a surprising amount of sass in his presence today. “Why would I not be serious? I’m basically a genius, and I expect to be invited to the wedding. You’re welcome, by the way.” 

“Alright, that’s enough, cheers, Val!” Lando blurts, shooting her a pointed look. 

“Can I get paddock passes for making this whole thing happen? Preferably Monaco but I could probably make it to Monza too. Imola is a little far.” 

Lando blinks at her for a few moments, probably seeing if she actually means it. When all she does is raise her eyebrows, he concedes. “Maybe. I’ll make some calls, see what I can do.” 

“Fantastic. Well, I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone!” 

You both watch as she all but skips happily off, then turn back to each other. 

“She’s…definitely something,” You sigh, shaking your head. Secretly, you owe her everything. 

“Eh, I dunno. Kid’s growing on me.” He reaches across the table, lacing his fingers through yours with a fond twinkle in those pretty eyes of his. 

“How serious are you about those paddock passes?” 

“I mean…she did help me out massively. I’d have missed you if it weren’t for her.” Lando shrugs, rubbing an absentminded thumb over yours. “I hope you know I would’ve come back until I found you again. Everyday, if I had to.” 

“Me too.” 

If you’d told your past self that a bizarre summer rainstorm in sunny Monaco would’ve led you to where you are right now, you wouldn’t have believed it. But now, as you sit here with Lando, smiling at each other like complete and total idiots, you’ve never been more grateful for a bit of unexpected rain.

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[starstruckmiraclekitty]

Hello, bestie, your writing is fucking amazing, i adore you so much, lovie 💕❤️😍

Could i ask a request for 141, LV and Konig, where THEY send reader a nude photo as a tease, pretty smutty too, please? 👀😍 Thank you, sweetie ❤️

141 + König Sending Reader A Nude Photo

Warnings: smut, p in v sex, afab! Reader, oral f! Receiving

Note: I’ll be doing a second version with Alejandro, Nikolai, Rodolfo and Grave☺️❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Simon Ghost Riley-

Simon felt ridiculous. He'd never sent a nude photo in his life, and thought the idea was frankly a bit silly. But Johnny had told him that this was something that people just “did” in relationships, especially when one of the partners was away for an extended period of time.

He closed himself in his office, locking the door behind him before sitting down in one of the chairs.

“Better be right about this, Johnny.” Simon huffed, moving to unbutton his pants. Now, Simon would be lying if the thought wasn’t intriguing, his mind filling with possibilities of just how you’d react to getting such a provocative picture of him.

He pulled his semi hard cock out, fisting it a few times before taking out his phone. If he thought the idea was ridiculous before, it was nothing compared to how he was feeling now. He struggled with getting the right angle, frankly feeling quite awkward as he snapped a photo and sent it off to you.

He debated getting back up, and going back to his bunk before his phone chimed a few minutes later. He looked down, to find a picture of you, your body donning the black lingerie set he bought you before his deployment, and your bottom lip tucked in between your teeth.

“Bloody fuckin’ hell.” Simon cursed under his breath, his cock now rock hard in his pants. He palmed at himself through his pants lazily, his eyes glued to your figure on his phone. “Gonna be the death of me.”

He quickly dialed your number, pressing his phone to his ear as his hand moved back toward his fully hard member. “Lovie- you look good in that set.”

“Thought you’d like that. That picture was quite the surprise, Si.” You gave a breathy chuckle, and Simon could’ve sworn he heard the faint buzzing of your vibrator in the background.

“You touching yourself, babe?” Simon asked, his cock twitching at the thought. “You touching yourself to the picture of my cock?”

You gave a breathy moan in reply, causing Simon’s eyes to squeeze shut as he pulled himself back out, and began to pump himself at a steady pace.

“Let me see, kitten.” He ordered, and who were you to deny his request?

Your picture came a moment later, your favorite vibrator shoved firmly inside of you, and Simon could clearly tell from the picture that you were soaked.

“Good fucking girl. That’s my girl. Go on and make yourself cum on the phone with me, I want to hear it.”

Your moans filled his ears, as Simon struggled to keep the phone steady in his hands, his eyes glued to your recent picture. His right hand was pumping at his cock furiously, your soft mewls driving him closer to the edge.

“Just you wait, princess. When I get home I’m gonna make you cum in every room of that fuckin’ house.” Simon groaned, his orgasm nearing quickly. “Can’t wait to feel that pretty little pussy cum all around my cock.

His vulgar words drove you to your edge, a loud squeak emitting from your lips as your release racked your body- causing you to scream out your lovers name.

Simon fell over the edge, his cock pulsing as thick ropes of cum flew onto his abdomen. “Fuck. My name sounds so good like that. Such a good girl for me.”

“You better have meant what you said Simon.” You teased, your voice breathless as you regained your composure. “As much as I loved the picture, nothing compares to the real thing.”

Simon cleared his through, a dark chuckle resounding from his chest. Of course he fucking meant it- after all, Simon’s a man of his word.

Johnny Soap MacTavish-

Johnny was dying. He'd been without sex for months, and he was dying for any sort of release. He wouldn’t be home to you, his pretty little pet in at least another few weeks, and he was nearly about to burst from the pent up sexual frustration.

The saved pictures of you in his phone had done little to satiate his needs, and he decided to take a different approach this time.

He closed himself in one of the private bathrooms on base, and wasted no time in yanking off his pants. His cock was already semi hard, as crude thoughts of you had been swirling in his mind all day.

He gave his member a few pumps, before snapping a picture of himself in the full sized mirror in front of him, and sending it to you without any accompanying message. Now all he had to do was wait for your reply.

He smiled as not more than a minute after he sent the photo, he got a notification on his phone that you were face timing him.

“Bonnie.” He answered, making sure only his face was visible when he answered the video call. “Is everything alright?”

“You’re a fucking tease, you know that right?” You groaned, settling yourself on yours and Johnnys shared bed. “An absolute tease.”

“It’s only fair lass. How many times have you sent me pictures of yourself, knowing damn well I couldn’t do anything about it.” Johnny argued, getting himself more comfortable on the lid of the toilet. “Go on, show me what that picture did to you.”

He watched intently as you held your phones camera away from you, and began to slowly strip away at your clothes. Johnny licked his lips eagerly as you removed your panties, leaving yourself completely bare to his awaiting eyes.

He turned his camera to face his fully hard cock, and began to pump himself, his eyes never leaving the phone in his other hand.

“Let me see how wet you are, baby.” Johnny cooed, his eyes glued to the screen as you brought your phone closer to your pussy. He nearly came right there as he watched you drag a finger up your soaked cunt, the wet noises clearly audible through the phone. “Oh fuck me.”

You gave a delectable whimper, causing Johnny to fist at his cock faster than before. “Miss you Johnny.”

“I know, lass. Be a good girl for me and show me just how much that pussy misses me. I want to watch you come undone with your fingers.”

You spread your legs further for him, giving him the perfect view of your glistening cunt, and began to play with yourself, as soft moans began to emit from your lips.

“That’s it, keep going. I want to see everything.”

John Price-

John was simply too old for this. He’d heard the men on base talking about sending nudes to their significant others, as a way to keep their sex lives spiced up away from home- but John never once had partaken in such a thing before. Would you even like it?

The alcohol swirling in his system told him that you would, and before he could second guess his decision, he made his way to his office, making sure to lock the door behind him.

He sat himself comfortably in his chair, before pulling his length out of his pants, stroking it lazily as he pulled up his messages with you.

He knew you’d be home, probably in bed right now- otherwise he’d never have entertained the thought of doing this. He could very well just go home, but he knew if he did the stack of paperwork would never get done, but gods could he use the distraction.

He held his cock firmly in his hand, feeling a bit silly as he snapped a picture, and sent it over to you without second thought.

To say you were surprised to see the picture that popped up on your phone would be an understatement. You loved John dearly, but never would you have thought he’d send you a picture like this. Not that you were complaining.

Biting your lip, you snapped a picture of yourself- Your cleavage pouring out from the top of one of John’s white dress shirts.

John felt his cock twitch in his palm as he opened up the photo message, and instantly typed out a reply.

Get in your car, and drive over to my office, NOW.

~~~~~

You barely made it through the door of his office before he had you bent over his desk, your leggings ripped down exposing your bare bottom half to him.

“Gods I am a lucky fucking man.” John groaned, his fingers immediately going to toy with your already soaked folds. “Does my sending you pictures of my cock make you this wet?”

All you could do was moan in reply, as his thick fingers plunged inside of you, pumping in and out of you at a vigorous pace. He paused his movements, clearly unsatisfied by your lack of verbal reply.

A harsh slap came down on your ass, causing you to cry out. John only chuckled at your mewls. “I asked you a question, I expect an answer.”

“Yes. Fuck yes John.” You cried out. Seemingly satisfied by your answer, John pulled his fingers out of your core, before landing a playful slap to your cunt.

“Then he daddy’s good girl and cum around his cock, yeah? Show me just how much you enjoyed it.” He cooed in your ear, before plunging his length inside you without warning.

Needless to say, this won’t be the last time you receive a photo from John.

König-

Sorry, you wanted him to what? Surely he didn’t read your message correctly. König looked back down at his phone, his eyes scanning over your most recent message about a half dozen times. You wanted… a picture of his cock?

König looked around the room shyly, somehow thinking the men 10 feet across from him knew what was being asked of him.

He gulped audibly as you sent through another text, this time a picture of you, in one of your more revealing sets of pajamas. König could feel himself grow hard and his pants, and practically sprinted to one of the private bathrooms on base.

Once locked inside, he wasted no time in ripping down his pants, breathing a sigh of relief as his painfully hard cock sprung free from its confinements.

Though he knew he was alone, König couldn’t help but look around the small bathroom, his cheeks burning crimson red as he snapped a picture of himself, before sending it off to you.

He honestly planned on getting up and walking out of the bathroom, never to think of this moment again, before his phone went off again.

A video came through, causing König’s brain to malfunction completley. You were playing with yourself, as soft moans of König’s name left your lips.

Königs legs acted on their own, prompting him to walk back over to the toilet and sit down on it, his cock making its way to his hand once more as he began to stroke it.

He had to bite his lip, hard enough to draw blood to prevent his cries of pleasure from escaping his lips. He felt so dirty. He knew men were right outside the bathroom, but in that moment all he could focus on was how good your pussy looked in that video- and how much he wanted it to be his fingers playing with it instead of yours.

Another ping of his phone came- another video from you. König eagerly watched as you came undone, cumming around your fingers as his name continued to spill from your lips.

Königs other hand was shaking, his orgasm rapidly approaching as his eyes remained glued to the video stuck in a loop on his phone. He held the phone, camera facing his cock as he pressed the record button. If you were going to treat him with videos, the least he could do we repay the favor.

Kyle Gaz Garrick-

You were a tease, through and through. It was one of the many things Kyle loved about you. But you’d been a devious little brat lately. You’d developed this habit this week, of sending him scandalous pictures of yourself, at various points of the day.

It was sending Kyle to a frenzy. Anytime he received the pictures it took everything in him not to run to the bathroom to bust a nut- but the timing was never convenient.

Now, now it was his turn to return the favor. Knowing he was being put on leave earlier than usual (unbeknownst to you) he decided to have a little fun of his own.

Before leaving the base, he stopped in one of the bathrooms, taking a quick picture of his semi hard cock, before tucking it back in his pants with a smile. Without second thought he hit the send button, before hopping in his car for the two hour drive home.

~~~~

You blew up his phone at least a dozen times on his drive. Kyle was never one to spontaneously send pictures like that, and it had a heat pooling between your legs.

The worst part was, he was blatantly ignoring your texts. He knew damn well what he was doing. Frustrated beyond belief, you took matters into your own hands.

~~

Kyle arrived home later that afternoon, the shit eating smirk from earlier never once leaving his lips.

He raced up the stairs, being as quiet as he could, and carefully opened the door to your shared bedroom. The sight he was met with had Kyle nearly creaming his pants right there.

You were splayed out on the bed, fully naked, your freshly painted nails stuffed firmly inside your core, desperately trying to find your release.

“Need some help?” Kyle called, a dark chuckle escaping his lips as he leaned against the door frame.

You jolted up, your eyes as wide as saucers as you pulled your fingers from your pussy. “Kyle!”

“Oh do continue, I’m quite enjoying the show.” He replied, licking his lips as his eyes remained glued to your sopping core.

“You’re a tease. I didn’t know you were coming home.” You huffed in frustration, your momentum from earlier long gone.

He grabbed your legs, firmly pulling you to the edge of the bed, and chuckled at the squeal that escaped your lips. “How’s it feel to be on the receiving end?”

Before you could reply, Kyle’s tongue found its way to your soaked folds, swirling and flicking rapidly at your sensitive bud.

“Now be a good girl and take exactly what I’m willing to give you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: ahhhh sorry this didn’t come together as well as I’d liked!

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

A Father’s Love?

Sam Winchester & daughter!reader, Dean Winchester & niece!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: You (9-10) are left alone with your dad, who currently is missing his soul, and it doesn’t go well

Update: part 2 is here

“Uncle De, please don’t go.” Your voice was low as you tried to keep your dad—who was in the bathroom—from hearing. “I-I don’t wanna be alone with him.”

Dean felt awful for leaving you like this, but he had no choice. You hadn’t been comfortable with Sam since the moment you’d found out he was back—the same time Dean did. You’d been living with Dean, Lisa, and Ben, and when Sam revealed that he’d been back all along, you instantly didn’t trust him. Dean had been angry, sure, but somehow he just hadn’t seen what you had—that your dad wasn’t really himself.

Of course, eventually the three of you—including Sam, who hadn’t been sure what was wrong with him—discovered the truth: he was soulless. As soon as Dean find out, he felt horrible for not understanding your hesitance before. Now that he knew, he tried to avoid leaving you alone with Sam whenever possible, especially since he didn’t really trust Sam without a soul.

But sometimes it was unavoidable.

“Kiddo, you know I don’t have a choice,” Dean said.

“I don’t like it here with him,” you insisted, refusing to let go of Dean’s sleeve. “He-he’s like daddy’s evil twin or something.”

Dean swallowed. “Sweetheart, he’s not evil, ok? He’s just a little weird right now.”

“Daddy’s weird,” you argued. “This guy is bad.”

Dean ran a hand over his face.

“Baby, please. You know I have to go. He’s gonna be good, I promise, and soon enough he’s gonna be back to regular-old dad, I swear.”

Dean left without another word, and the silence that hung in the motel room was deafening.

“Dean left?” Sam asked as he exited the bathroom. You ignored his question—he didn’t actually care, after all—and you went to sit on your bed. You could feel Sam’s eyes on you as you went. The motel stayed the worst kind of silence as you pretended to read while Sam just stared at you.

“What do you want?” You demanded finally, dropping the book. Your voice was nowhere near as firm as you wanted it to be.

“You hate me.” It wasn’t a question.

“You hated me first.” Unlike Sam, you couldn’t look at him while you accused him. Even without looking at the shell that used to be your dad, you could feel tears pricking at the back of your eyes as you waited for him to speak.

“I don’t hate you,” he huffed. “I mean, I don’t particularly care about you, but I don’t hate you.”

Somehow, apathy was even worse.

“Just leave me alone,” you mumbled. You shouldn’t have been surprised when Sam shrugged and obeyed. You felt your eyes drifting to him as he pulled a beer from the fridge and took it to his bed. His eyes caught yours and he frowned.

“What? You said leave you alone.”

“Dad wouldn’t have listened,” you mumbled, but Sam heard you anyway.

“Well, I’m not your dad,” Sam shrugged. “I’m not Sam, not anymore.”

“Ok.” You turned to face away from him. “Now I mean it. Leave me be.”

But Sam was suddenly intrigued, and he ignored your request.

“You and Dean wanted me to stop pretending to be him. This is just me not pretending.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like you,” you said, your eyes downcast.

“Exactly, and I don’t like you either. I mean, you’re kind of a brat.”

“I told you to leave me alone,” you said, finally looking up.

“You beg Dean to keep you with him all the time like I’m gonna hurt you or something, it’s pathetic.” Sam seemed to be getting a real kick out of finally saying all that he’d been thinking over the past few weeks.

“I said leave me alone!” You yelled at him, but he didn’t listen.

“I mean, I remember caring about you when I was that other guy, I just…I just can’t remember why.”

“Go away! Leave me be!” You were on your feet now, shoving and pushing at Sam, but the giant man didn’t even flinch.

“I mean your just a little pest!”

“Stop it! Just go away!”

Crying, overwhelmed, and so unbelievably hurt, you started to slap at the guy who used to be your dad, smacking his neck, his face, whatever you could reach. Suddenly, Sam wasn’t having so much fun anymore.

“Hey!” Though your slaps had little effect on him, one harsh blow from Sam had you flat on your back, dazed and breathing hard. You could still feel the impact of his palm against your cheek, and you couldn’t scramble away from him fast enough.

“If you’re gonna give it out, you should be prepared to take it,” Sam muttered gruffly.

You were on your feet in an instant, and you were out the door before you’d even made the decision to leave.

“Hey!” You could hear your dad—no, not your dad—following after you, and you barely made it five steps out of the room before his arms were around you and dragging you back in.

“Stop it!” You were crying now, and you couldn’t remember when you’d started. “Let me go!”

“If I lose you, Dean’s never gonna help me,” Sam grunted, shoving you back into the room and closing the door behind him. “So how about we all just calm down here.” It wasn’t a request; it was a command. “You don’t hit me, I won’t hit you.”

That would’ve sounded reasonable enough, if not for one thing—your desperate smacks to his skin had done nothing to him, they hadn’t even hurt, but you could already feel the side of your face swelling where he’d hit you. But you didn’t argue with Sam. You didn’t even speak. You just sat on your bed and turned your back on him, pulling your legs up to your chest and burying your face in your knees so you could cry in peace.

Sam left you alone for several minutes, but his sudden hand on your shoulder had you flinching back violently and scrambling away from him.

“Would you calm down?” Sam huffed as he let go. He was holding out a frozen bag of peas. “Put this on it.”

You took it hesitantly and slowly pressed the cold bag to your face.

“Look…” Sam’s hand was back on your shoulder, only now his giant fingers were right at the junction between your neck and your shoulder, and they were squeezing way too hard. “Dean would kill me if he figured out what happened, ok? And he certainly wouldn’t be helping me anymore. So maybe…maybe you just tell him you fell in the shower or something, ok?” He said it like a question, but the grip on your shoulder and the ice in his eyes told the truth; he expected you to lie to Uncle Dean, and you didn’t know what he’d do if you didn’t.

“Ok,” you whispered, and his hand was gone in an instant.

“Ok,” he said firmly.

Then he turned his back on you and left you alone to cry.

…

The swelling was down by the time Dean returned, but you’d looked in the mirror long enough to see a black and purple bruise forming along almost one whole side of your face.

You resisted the urge to run to your uncle the moment he stepped in the door—if you acted scared, he would figure it out, and Sam would be mad. Instead, you stayed where you were with your head down, your hair covering most of the bruise.

“Hey,” Dean greeted. “You guys ok?”

“We’re fine,” Sam said simply. You’d been hoping that he would lie for you, so you didn’t have to, but he seemed content to leave things quiet.

“You sure?” Dean was watching you now, noticing your uncharacteristic silence.

“I’m ok,” your voice was hoarse from crying, and Dean wasn’t fooled.

“What’s wrong?” Dean was in front of you in an instant, brushing your hair behind your ears. His hand recoiled when he saw the bruise. “What happened?”

“I—“ you looked up to face Dean, and your voice caught in your throat when you saw Sam staring daggers at you from behind your uncle’s shoulder. “I f-fell.”

“Fell?” Dean frowned.

You nodded. “In-in the shower.”

“Sam.” Dean’s voice was dangerously quiet. “Out. Now.”

“Me?” When had Sam become such a good actor? He looked as innocent as ever. “What did I do?”

Despite his acting, Dean wasn’t buying it for a minute.

“Get out! I need to talk to her alone.”

The moment Sam was out the door, Dean was tilting your chin up with a feather-light hand at your chin.

“He hit you, didn’t he.” Dean wasn’t asking.

“I fell,” you lied, the tears in your eyes giving you away.

“Don’t lie for him,” Dean pleaded. “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t kick him out,” you pleaded. “We-we have to help him get his soul back. This isn’t him, Uncle Dean.”

“I know it’s not,” Dean sighed. “But I need you to be safe.”

“I’ll be safe when my dad is back.”

…

“You stay away from her.” Dean didn’t give Sam a chance to speak when he let him back into the room.

“Fine.” Sam was done lying—it hadn’t done any good.

“And if you ever touch her again, you’re gone, understand?”

Sam didn’t look happy, but he couldn’t argue.

“I understand.”

…

You slept in Dean’s bed that night—you hadn’t shared a bed with your father since he came back soulless—and Sam went out to do whatever it was that he did while you guys slept. Apparently being soulless meant you didn’t sleep.

“Are you ok?” Dean asked. “And don’t lie to me.”

“It doesn’t hurt so bad anymore,” you mumbled. “I just…I just miss him.”

Dens pulled you into his arms as you started to cry.

“I know, sweetheart. I miss him too. We’re gonna get him back, ok? I promise.”

“Ok Uncle Dean.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl

[hughes86-43]

An Hour and Half | L.Hughes

summary - what happens when your flight seat mate happens to be a super cute guy and you only have an hour and half to talk to him

warnings/note- none; i have no clue how long a plane ride is from new jersey to detroit is sooo im guessing

Masterlist

“Hi, excuse me, my seat is by the window, if you don’t care to let me through?” You ask the young guy sitting in the middle seat in your row. He was wearing a ‘drew’ hoodie with black sweatpants.

Looking up at you from his phone, he immediately gets out of his seat. “Oh gosh, sorry! Of course, go ahead.” You give him a small smile and squeeze through to get to your seat. You loved taking the window seat, however you hated the awkwardness of getting through the row.

“Thank you,” You wince. “Oh, wait! Before you sit down, I hate to ask, but can you grab my water bottle out of the black and white carry on up above? I’m so sorry, I completely forgot about it!” The guy nods and opens the compartment and finds the water bottle.

“It’s no problem, really. Is there anything else you need?” He asks as he hands the bottle over to you.

You shake your head. “No, I think I’m all set.” The guy nods once again and sits back down in his seat.

You go back to getting comfortable in your seat and reply back to your mom telling her that you made it on to the plane. While the flight attendants go over the safety precautions, you can’t help but to side eye the cute guy sitting next to you. He had roughly curled hair and some small stubble on his face. He looked a bit tired.

He must’ve noticed you side eyeing him because he removes his earbud and asks, “Did you need out? Sorry, I can’t hear anything with these,” he points to his earbud.

Immediately blushing, because there’s no way that he totally didn’t see you checking him out, you reply, “Oh, no! I’m all good! Also, doesn’t seem like anybody else is in the row so that’s good!”

The guy smiles at your nervousness. “Yeah, it makes the plane ride ten times better when nobody is at the end of the row. Although for you, you would have to ask me to move but still, one person is better than two to get through,” the guy laughs out.

“Honestly though. Last plane ride I was on, none of the people sitting in my row would move, so I had to awkwardly try to go over them. Gosh, it was so embarrassing but why not just move out of the way!” The guy laughs at that, putting his earbuds back into his case.

“Well, if you need me to move, just ask and I will. Since we’re here for a bit, guess I’ll introduce myself, my name is Luke.” He sticks his hand out for you to shake and introduce yourself. You’re not one to talk much to the person sitting next to you on the plane, but something about him honestly has you intrigued.

Shaking his hand, you say, “My name is Y/N, nice to meet you.”

“Y/N, lovely name. So are you heading to Michigan as a trip or do you have family there?” He asks as he returns his hand back to his lap.

You lean against the window. “I actually have some family there, and it’s my grandmother’s 90th birthday so I’m heading back to that. I’ll stay for a bit. What about you? What has you going to Michigan?” You raise your eyebrow waiting on his answer.

“Wow, 90 years old, go her,” he smiles, “Well, long story is my team just finished for the season and I’m heading home to be with the family and spend time with friends that I need to catch up with.”

You nod. “If that’s the long story, what would the short story be?”

He laughs and tries to think, “Um, the short story would probably be going home, but the long story was better.” You laugh as you fiddle with the water bottle in your hand.

You go back to asking about his team he mentioned. “So your team? What sport do you play?”

He looks at you weirdly for a second before giving a toothy grin. “Do you live in New Jersey?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Have you heard of the New Jersey Devils?” Luke asks.

You think back to a sign you saw. “Honestly, I saw a billboard about them, and I think my co-worker is obsessed with them, but mostly no.”

He lets out another laugh, and you raise your eyebrow. “You live in New Jersey, and you barely know about the New Jersey Devils? Do you know or watch anything about hockey?”

“I mean, I seen that one movie. Gosh, what is it? Is it like called ‘sensation’ or something?” You try to think. “Oh gosh, no! It wasn’t called ‘sensation’ it was called—”

He cuts you off, “Miracle.”

You scream out, “Yes!” Then wince as you realize that was a bit loud. Lowering your voice, you continue, “Yes, the hockey movie called Miracle. My dad made me watch all the time, but that’s all I know about hockey really.” You shrug.

If Luke didn’t know better, he already knows that he wants to get to know you better. “Miracle’s a good movie. Anyway, back to my team, I actually play for the New Jersey Devils.”

You shake your head, not believing him. “No way, prove it!”

Luke grabs his phone out of his pocket and shows you a recent game day photo of him in his jersey. “See, jersey, skates, and everything. I play on the defense side.”

You take a minute, probably too long, to look at the photo. Gosh, he did look in his jersey, and his hair was a bit longer in that photo. “Okay, I believe you. So, do you like it? Sorry, if that’s a bit too much to ask, I’m just a curious person.”

“No, it’s okay. Honestly, I love it. Some days and games are a bit tougher than others, but I still love it no matter what. I actually play with one of my older brothers on the team,” Luke says, a bit proud of playing with his brother.

“That’s awesome, I couldn’t imagine playing with my brother on a team, so that’s really awesome,” you say.

“Yeah, it really is,” he beams, “Anyway, the season just ended for us last week due to getting eliminated from the playoffs.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. That must suck!”

“Yeah, but we have a chance to look over the season and come back better next season. Like yeah it sucks, but I also get to go home early. It’s a win lose situation,” he shrugs.

“Still, I see how it would suck, but if you didn’t get eliminated, you wouldn’t be on this plane talking to me right now,” you smile.

“Ha, I guess you’re right,” he guides a hand through his curls. “Enough about my job, what do you do back in New Jersey?”

You wince at the mention of talking about what you do for work. Your job recently wasn’t doing it for you. You had been working at an advertising agency for a while now, but after awhile, you decided it was not for you. You wanted a new job, but you also haven’t been looking. “Eh, I work at an advertising agency. Overall, it pays the bills, but it’s not my favorite.”

Luke replies, “Did you go to school for advertising or something related?”

You shake your head, “No, I actually went for public relations, but somehow I got this job in advertising. One of my friends put in a good word for me, but I have slowly started to dread going to work.”

Luke nods, “I’m sorry that you don’t like your job.”

You shrug, looking passed him to the couple across the aisle. “Honestly, I should really get a new job if I hate it so much, but the idea of going through the process of applying and interviewing is so nerve wracking for me.”

Luke listens to see if you’re going to add anymore before talking. Truthfully, you’ve never seen a guy take the time to listen so well about your problems, let alone a stranger you just met. He speaks up again, “Although that would be nerve wracking, it would mean that you get a chance to get a new job. I say go for it, especially since you’re not loving the job you already have. You should have a job that you love to do, not a job that just pays the bills.” Honestly, Luke has no idea where all these encouraging words are coming from, but he was just letting them spill out in the chance it would help you.

“You’re right, I totally should. You’ve changed my perspective, I guess when I head back to New Jersey I’ll look at job openings related to what I want to do,” you say, smiling up at him.

You and Luke continue to talk for the next hour on the plane. Talking about various adventures you’ll both get into when you’re back in Michigan, he talks about his brothers and how they both play in the NHL, and you talk about your grandparents and how they are you’re world. Time has a sense of flying by when you’re enjoying time with someone, and surprisingly you’re enjoying and loving the time talking to Luke. Even though you both just met, you two could talk forever. You really didn’t want to get off the plane as that would mean you wouldn’t be able to talk to him much more.

An hour or so later, the moment you had been dreading since talking to him has come, time to depart the plane. You’re walking down the hallway leading out of the plane when Luke speaks up next to you. “I know it’s crazy that we just met, but honestly you’re the easiest person to talk to that I have ever met. Hopefully that made sense?”

You nod, looking into his eyes, trying to savor the last look at him. “It made sense. I think the same goes for me. You listened to what I had to say, which is surprising because most people stop listening to me after awhile,” you blush at his intense stare, actually noticing how tall he was when you stood next to him.

You both make it through the exit. Luke turns to you again and tries to say, “Since we’re both gonna be here in Michigan for a bit, we should—” but he gets cut off by someone yelling. “LUKE!”

You both turn to where the sudden yelling was from. He mumbles, a hint of red touching his cheeks, “my brother, Quinn.” You nod, moving to the side so he can hug his brother.

Quinn must notice you, because he says to Luke, “Oh, sorry for interrupting, go ahead.” He pushed Luke to go back talking to you, but when he does, he notices that you have walked off to meet with, what he assumes is, your grandparents.

He smiles as he watches you hug and kiss them both. He watches as you hold a finger, signaling them to hold on for a second, and you walk back over to him. “I’m sorry, I gotta head on out, it was so lovely to meet you and talk to you, Luke.”

He smiles, “It was great to meet you, too, Y/N. As I was trying to say before, since we’re both in Michigan for a bit, how about we try and hang out?”

You try to stay cool, but you still let out a massive grin. “Yes, absolutely! I would love to!”

“Great! Reach out to me!” He moves closer to you, before he chickens out, he pulls you into a hug. You instantly hug him back, thinking it was crazy how you just met him and now don’t want him to go. “Bye, see you soon,” he says, pulling away and walking towards his brother.

You stand there a bit in shock before yelling across to him, “Wait, but I don’t have your number!”

Luke turns around, he gives you a grin, “Check your bag! I might’ve put it in there while I was getting it down!” You blush, giving him a thumbs up before heading over to your grandparents with the biggest grin on your face.

-

Later on, you finally get to unpacking your bag. Upon unzipping it, a piece of paper falls out. He must’ve written it when you went to the bathroom. Written on it, it says…

“It was great meeting you, and you’re the best person ever to talk to. If you ever need someone to listen, call me… xxxxxxxx”

Needless to say, you did call him, and he listened to you all night long. Both of you were in over your heads with each other.

[jeankirsteinsgrlfrnd]

How would the aot boys react if they heard a rumor that reader has a crush on them

i heard a rumor….

eren jaeger is so nosey when he hears the rumor going around. he’s intrigued by your crush on him and he wants to know every little detail, of course by everyone else and not you. he gathers everyone’s opinion and saves you for last. he doesn’t beat around the bush; he tells you he knows that you’re crushing hardcore on him. he’s playful and witty, trying to get you all flustered.

armin arlert, bless his heart, tries to be cool about it. and he does a fairly good job you think. he often finds ways to get you two alone but he never makes a bold move. he asks if he can help you do things, tries to find common interests, etc. you know he knows because you find him trying to spend too much time with you, not that you’re complaining. he just lets things take their course.

jean kirsteins plays the disinterested, too-cool-for-you character. he’s damn good at it too. his actions and short replies hurt your ego and your heart. so, you give him the same treatment back. this, he’s not a fan of. he demands that you tell him why you’re treating him like this and you respond that you’re just dishing out what he is. that makes him go ‘oh’ and it results in a very around the bush way of telling you he has some sort of feelings for you but he was trying to repress it.

connie springer grins from ear to ear for days end when he hears the news. he was already crushing on you big time and now that you like him back, he’s convinced your soulmate. shamelessly, connie asks (it’s more of a statement) that you go on a date. you cant believe he knows. you want to just disappear when he confronts you but he doesn’t understand why. “am i coming on too strong? hold on, i can get weak in the knees real quick.”

levi ackerman acts like he doesn’t know about your feelings for him. his behavior isn’t much different than when he didn’t know- his eye’s just tend to linger on you a bit longer. his gaze makes you feel…violated. it’s like he’s looking right through you or undressing you with his eyes. hard to tell. he continues driving you crazy in various subtle ways until you can’t take it anymore and wind up confessing at him in a ‘why are you doing this to me’ moment. he just laughs.

reiner braun's interest is piqued, that's for sure. he's not so smooth about it, always turning into a flustered mess when he's around you. you, now beginning to panic he knows your secret, turn into a shorter flustered mess. your awkwardness makes all your friends laugh and they just tease you more, which causes more stuttering and the cycle repeats. eren's the one who finally sets you up, not able to bare any more of reiner's incoherence.

bertholdt hoover makes the brave decision of telling you how he feels. he doesn't pick the greatest time. he tells you in front of all your friends and that leaves you feeling a little pressured. so, you get up and drag him away from everyone. the two of you share a raw confessional in peace and quiet. it leaves your heart full.

zeke jaeger texts you as soon as eren tells him. he doesn't wait for any more clarification. the text reads, heard you're basically in love with me. I'll pick you up later: a man of his word, he comes and picks you up. you try to him he's ridiculous but he knows you're his future wife.

erwin smith does his best to avoid you. a crush is meaningless to him.but fuck, the way you look at him makes his heart stop. he's beginning to think that there's something wrong with him- he can't breathe when you're around him. one night, he has too much wine to drink and accidentally lets it slip that he knows. he decides he doesn't care anymore and kisses you on the forehead, leaving you confused about the way he feels about you.

porco galliard's too fucking cocky. he starts spreading the rumor himself once he gets wind of it. he tells everyone he knows, bragging about it over and over. the rumor makes it's way back to you and you want to cry. so, that's what you do. you know everyone knows, so he must know. porco catches you crying and is upset with himself for spreading it. he didn't know you'd be so embarassed, considering he ‘obviously feels the same way’

please go read my jean fic 🤍

[cherry-leclerc]

i hate you. i hate you? ☆ cs55

genre: humor, fluff, love confessions, childhood friends to enemies/rivals to lovers (damn, tongue twister), maybe a bit angsty (don't worry too much about it though, lol), flashbacks that add to a tiny slow-burn

word count: 3.5k

The dwindling friendship that comes crashing down when you get offered the opportunity of a lifetime. Leading to a bumpy road with your best friend.

req!... i swear that when i put angst ITS NOT BAD. anyways, enjoy, anons!

Me encantaría formar parte del equipo, you muse whimsically, pigtails flying against the winter breeze. Sería un sueño hecho realidad. 

Despite being young, you knew you were different— came from a divergent background compared to those around you. Your family definitely didn’t have the resources to fulfill your dream to kart or race professionally. You partially blame your brothers for getting you into the sport. 

Si. Lo sería, a particular Spaniard, agrees. You smile. Your parents share a pitiful glance before sitting you down. It wasn’t going to happen, not because they didn’t want to but simply because they couldn’t afford such an expensive hobby that would probably kick you in the butt. 

That’s where your first guardian angel appeared. Carlos Sainz Sr. Better known as your best friend's father. Without a doubt, he offers to sponsor you, for he grew keen on having you around, enjoying time by the pool with his two girls and shy son. 

Was there a way you could ever thank him? No, not really— nothing would ever cover all he’s ever done for you, but you’d make sure to try your best to find a way. Even if it took you a lifetime. 

-

“You’ve known her for a lifetime! Probably five, for all we know!” Lando yelps, running a hand through his curls. “You can’t just call it quits on your friendship just like…” He snaps his fingers. 

Carlos shrugs. He fills up a styrofoam cup of coffee, silently offering one to his moody friend. The Brit rolls his colorful eyes. You’re making a mistake, he presses. It’s the Spaniards turn to grow serious. 

“Por favor—she should have thought about that before she stole my seat.”

That, you did. It wasn’t an easy decision to make. It could have never been, even if you had been warned. But suddenly you were getting an opportunity, the kind you only ever dreamt of. Carlos would be fine, he was a man who would eventually have a pile of teams interested in keeping him around. You, on the other hand, were surprised that anyone was even intrigued in having you form a part of their F1 team, much less— Ferrari. 

This was it, and you had to grab at the opportunity. You just never imagined losing a friend along the way.

Why would you even consider accepting? You flinch and he’s looking as if he regrets it, so you give him the benefit of the doubt. 

I know this isn’t what we were expecting, but think of it this way. I'd be coming in 2025 and you would already be too busy preparing to join Audi! It’ll work out. You’re still doing that, right? You knew he was, he had been so excited and told you as soon as he found out. Audi was in his blood.

He runs a large hand through his tangled hair, sighing. Still. You have to say no. You can’t do that to me. It’d be embarrassing.

Your shoulders drop an inch. Why? Because you’re being bought out or because a woman is keeping your seat? His silence is enough for your heart to break and for your mind to be made up.

I’m signing. 

-

There is indignation, and then there is you.

“You are such a—argh!” Pounding your fists against the locked door, you reach out to briskly twist the knob, trying your best to get out of the cramped room. The world was spinning, and you could feel a migraine rolling in strongly, but you swore—swore—you would kill him as soon as you got your hands on him. 

The morning had started off fairly simple. Show up, run a few tests on the stimulator, get to know a few of the mechanics you’d be working with, and finally, sign your contract. You had waited longer than intended, due to minor changes you had suggested, so you were extremely ready to get it done. This was supposed to be your day.

That is until the grumpy Spaniard pushed you, locked you in, and ran off before you had a chance to register what was going on. Fred had been adamant—show up on time. The next time he would be available would not be until three weeks, and that was ridiculously long if anyone were to ask. Carlos knew that.

Charles hums slowly, munching on a pack of M&M's when he hears the spine-chilling scream you let out, wood vibrating as you punch angrily. Hurrying over, he unlocks it from the outside, surprised by your appearance. Your hair is tussled, face is blotchy, vein throbbing. It’s definitely a sight to say the least. He mentions something about —he went that way— and —think about what you’re going to do— but you’re off before you settle with any of it.

The twists and turns make your head hurt, practically seeing red before you come to a halt. Smiling sophisticatedly, Carlos is sat, legs crossed, fingers pointing to his watch. No. “News for you, my dear friend; Fred just left.” The Spaniard winces playfully, already making his way out the door. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Charles was right. You should have thought about what you would do. Jumping onto his large back, your flimsy hands dig into the forest he calls hair, and pull. He screeches, swaying from side to side as he hurriedly tries to disconnect your legs from around his waist. Let go, he groans harder when you pinch his arm. 

“Why? Why did you do this—any of this?” At this point you’re kicking and screaming, panting, heaving. “Is it really that difficult to accept it? You lost. I’m in, you’re out.”

“At least we know she’s a fighter.”

Coming to a sudden stop, your eyes flicker to the familiar voice, instantly burning up. Fred taps his foot gingerly against the white tiles, an amused Monegasque standing right behind him. Jumping off of the sulky brunette, you begin to shake your head in disbelief, pointing towards the exit. “N-no…you’re supposed to be gone. He…” Then it hits you. This was a fucking set up.

“While I’m evenly impressed by your toughness, I will say, I think we should put a hold on signing.” Your stomach drops. The older man quickly waves his hands in dismissal, grinning apologetically. “We still want you! Nothing has changed, but I think it’s for the best that you fix things with Carlos before doing so. It’ll be good for you two.” With that, he bows his head, and strolls away, heading for the airport.

“I’m out too,” Charles whispered, slowly stepping back. “Fill me in on what happens, though!” 

As soon as your breath evens out—and Carlos creates a safe distance between you two—you let out a deranged chuckle. He almost cringes at the cold sound, but keeps his chin up high. “You did this all on purpose?” It’s a question but comes out more like a confirmation, which in a way, it was. Shutting your eyes, you tilt your head with a ghostly smile. “You knew he hadn’t left and let me make a fool out of myself. Why would you do that?” you grit, orbs laser focused on him as if you could light him up into flames if you really set your mind to it.  

“Why would I not?” he stubbornly spits back.

“You asshole, I’m just trying to make your dad proud.”

A pinch of guilt dives deep into his veins as he watches you stomp down the hallway, mindlessly tugging at his heart.

-

I say we let him burn, Ana pitches the idea, laying flat on her bed as you scoff with a knowing smile. 

Does it make me a bad person if I don’t disagree with you? 

She sits up, eyeing where you calmly paint down on a canvas. She squints her eyes. “What even is that?” Holding your art with pride, you shoot a sheepish smile. Nice, huh? The Spaniard’s youngest sister giggles, nose scrunching up at the dark sight. “I’m confused—is he supposed to look like that?”

You curl an analytical brow, shooting a quick snarl. “I think it’s pretty good. And yes. He’s supposed to be getting run over by my future car. What a sight.” You dramatically swoon.

Ana drops her stare, focusing instead with a teasing curl gripping the corner of her lips. “Remember when instead of plotting his death, you’d be fantasizing about a life with him? God, I could still remember all the hearts—the glitter.” She shudders, faintly recalling the mess in her room, which led to Reyes giving you both a good scolding, but not before winking at a red-faced you. 

Looking away feverishly, you shake your head, picking up the flimsy paint brush once again, never once bothering to make eye contact with her. “I was young. Stupid as shit. I can’t even remember what I loved about him.”

“Liked,” she corrects you.

You cough. “Right. Liked.”

-

If the Spaniard took the time to sit down, roll through a philosophical journey, wonder where things might have changed for him—it would have saved him enduring a puddle of dreadfulness at this very moment.

Ana’s wedding. The first of his sisters who would get married. It was a bittersweet day, and not just because she was finally leaving the family nest. “Who is she…” he can hear himself ask. Almost demand. The brunette smirks, slightly pleased. 

“My best friend. You’re nemesis,” she jokes. 

Carlos growls slowly, lightly pinching her cheek as she yelps. “With. You know what I mean.”

“Lalo. She met him a few weeks ago. Very nice guy.” A beat. “Please don’t ruin my wedding.”

But he’s not even listening. Brown eyes follow to where you stand straight, arms crossed over your body like a shield. He always knew you’d been self-conscious, but never understood why. You were stunning. Lavender dress hugs your curves beautifully. A trace of honey fills any area you fall into. Your hair is nicely pinned up, allowing him to enjoy your silky skin. 

And it seems like Lalo too.

Rubbing a large hand against his smooth jaw—which was only neat since Reyes had hounded him to fix his appearance for his sister’s big day—he smoothly made his way over. Rupert warns the Spanirad with his eyes, but Carlos scoffs. Did everyone think he had something up his sleeve? 

“Enjoying yourselves?”

Mid-sip, your face freezes, doe-eyes flickering between Lalo, then Carlos. Then Carlos, then Lalo. God, when did the room begin to boil? Your voice gets caught in your throat, to make matters worse. Carlos’ personal trainer pity’s you for a split second, deciding to help out. “The drinks are stellar, mate. We’ve been hogging the bar for so long at this point.”

The brown eyed boy studies your so-called date, faking a cold smile. “You don’t say…Carlos, by the way,” he says, extending his arm out. “Remind me of your name again, sorry, she’s just never mentioned you before. At all, really. I apologize.”

“That’s okay, we only just met a few weeks ago. We’re taking it slow.” We’re. The word itself makes the 29 year old fear he might puke right then and there. “Eduardo, but you can call me Lalo. Huge fan.”

“Mines or hers?” Carlos bitterly questions, thick lips forming a straight line. Lalo awkwardly clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth, pulling away and leaning in to hold you close. 

“Guess it’s my turn to apologize now. Hers. Always. But you’re pretty cool, too, I suppose.” His voice is light, unbothered. It makes Carlos tick furiously, though he doesn’t dare show it. You can’t pinpoint the moment tension rose up, snapping you out of your trance. Blinking hastily, you aim a sour snarl at the Spaniard. 

“We were sort of having a good time, so…” You shoo him away with a jeweled hand. “I just don’t want to kill the vibes. You understand, right?” Barely giving him a chance to respond, you turn back to your conversation, leaving Lalo and Rupert to appear puzzled, but stupidly playing along.

With a raw click of the tongue, the 29 year old takes a step forward, leveling down to your ear. “Pretend all you want, but you’re still wearing my initials around that pretty wrist of yours.” And walks away.

It was true. Your parents had gifted you a lucky charm bracelet for your fourteenth birthday, and Carlos greedily beat everyone to it. A car, for your love for Formula One. A chili, a shy thank you for his nickname. An ice cream, well, because you just loved ice cream. And a cursive CS. For him. 

Watching him walk away left you with a hole in your heart. You did not need a reminder like that on a day like this. Wearing it was purely out of habit, it had no meaning to it anymore. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself. The need to use the restroom was a complete lie as you wordlessly peek for the broad Spaniard. You spot his glossy shoes first, sticking out the photo booth. 

“Scoot,” you say, gently cramming him in deeper. Once you get situated, you slide the silver charm off, handing it over to him. “Here.”

He furrows his dark brows. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t want anything tying me back to you anymore. It was kind—sweet—but that was past you. You’re cruel, mean, rude, a fucking jerk now. I don’t like that, so— here.”

“I don’t want it,” he retorts, curling your flat hand into a fist, forcing you to hold it tight. 

“Well I don’t either, so what is there to do? You know what; I’ll just sell it. It’s not even that significant,” you mumble, already making your way out, but not before he hauls you back. Falling straight onto his thigh. You can feel your pulse quicken, your cheeks tingle, and your eyes suddenly burn. “Let me go,” you squeal, trying your best to weasel out of his grip. He groans, placing a large hand on either side of your hips, pushing you down.

“No. Just listen to me first.” Sighing, you nod. You should be climbing off; there’s room for two. He should be pushing you off; there’s room for two. But none of that happens as he clears his throat, rehearsing his words over and over before you raise a neat brow, waiting for him. “Perdón. Por todo.” 

Not what you were expecting and he could tell when you let out a small gasp. Nervously, he licks his lips, admiring your plump ones that don’t lay too far off from his own. “I used to be so proud of you when we were just kids. When you first admitted you wanted to race too. It was adorable, the way your eyes lit up.” Your breath deepens, unknowing of what this was leading to. “But I’ve always been proud. That’s never changed.”

“You’re a terrific liar,” you timidly chuckle, patting his shoulder, making him back off a little. But he only ricochets forward, twice as close. Your insides churn. 

“You don’t know how fucking happy I was when you got a seat. Over the moon. But I won’t lie; I was hurt and said some shitty things that have no excuse tied to them. I know I hurt you—I know that now. But that feeling vanished when worry came creeping in. I don’t want you to sign that contract.”

You flinch, reality crashing down on you once again as you examine the Ferrari driver. “Why apologize if you haven’t changed? My feelings aren’t a joke,” you whimper pathetically, tears sliding down your cheeks, soft brows drawn together. 

He panics, gingerly brushing them away to the best of his ability and you don’t have the power to fight him off anymore. You’re too busy getting your heart broken once again by the same man. 

She’s beautiful. Insanely—it’s insane. Her eyes are a shade of green I’d never thought I’d like.

I once wore a shade of green shorts last summer and you called them ugly. Said it looked like vomit. 

Carlos sighs dreamily, dominantly shaking his head. 

Well crap. I must’ve changed my mind.

Present him, was taking in your frantic sobs and he doesn’t know how else to calm you if it's not by rubbing your back gently. It takes a while, but you eventually ease up, occasionally letting out a shaky breath. “First of all, let me tell you why I did everything within me for you not to sign. It’s no good.”

You tilt your head in confusion, nose runny as he hands you his handkerchief. “I-I’m confused.”

Carlos chuckles. “What was the one thing I would always complain to you about when I was away racing?” Lack of privacy? “Okay, second thing I raved about…” When you don’t answer, he sheepishly wiggles his brows. “How tired I was with my team. It’s exhausting because like it or not—we’re not at our prime. I don’t think we will be for a couple of years. But for my benefit, I’ll be gone, and then it’s only going to fall on-”

“Me,” you finish, glossy eyes dancing through his painful expression.

 He nods. “Listen, Charles will be fine. Mentally not, but he’ll do just okay. It’s you I’m worried about. Not only will you dive in, nose first into a world of ruthless men, but you’ll always be the entire blame. In their eyes, it'll be you. What did you do wrong? How could you fuck up? And sure, you might sometimes—it's inevitable— but other times you won’t. But you’re a girl, and that’s enough for the fingers to be pointed at you.”

Shaking your head profusely, you instantly reach up to catch your hair from falling from its tiring up-do. He helps you out, combing his fingers nicely, though this time it doesn’t get rid of the queasy feeling. He was right. God, why did he have to be right? 

“I’m well aware of what I’m about to get myself into. But I think I can handle it. I can’t not do it—imagine how many girls it would help pave the way for? I’m sure as fuck it won’t be easy, and it might threaten my sanity, but I need to do this. And I’m sorry.”

An unfamiliar wave crashes against his warm eyes, a low breath being expanded into the air. You can feel it, taste it. Mint mojito. Your body told you, you liked it, with the way you wanted to lean in and kiss him—just to confirm. Pursing your lips, you continue. “You have your future decided and I have mine.”

With a hesitant bow, and a tide of curls flying forward, he clears his throat. “You’ve always been this way. Dedicated. And I could never decipher why. Until now.” He can’t help but brush his nose against yours. Your eyes flutter shut, allowing him to appreciate your pretty features. “If you’re sure, then I’m right behind you.”

You almost want to laugh, but are too scared to ruin the moment, so instead count his freckles. “I am…” A sharp inhale. “But what’s the second thing?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said ‘first of all’. I would assume there’s more…” You know there is, but you just want to hear him say it aloud. You’d seen the way he glared viciously at Lalo, chest firming. You’d seen the way things had shifted between you two, months prior, after his break up.

If this racing thing doesn’t work out, you would make a killer artist. He whistles.

Down boy, you joke. It’s just a swan. I resonate with them. 

He sits up straighter. Then consider me a swan, too.

You laugh loudly, tossing your head back as he smiles. Why all of a sudden?

Just.

“It took me a while to get here, but I’m here.” He cradles your delicate face. “I think I love you. I-I mean I know I love you. Your stubbornness, your compliance. Your level-headedness, your intrusive actions. Your need to persevere and be better—even if others make it hard on you.” You giggle, poking his chest. “But above all, I love the way you made me work for it. I’m glad you did because how else could I have realized if you didn’t drag that dead-beat?”

“Hey! He’s nice!”

The 29 year old tsks. “Nice isn’t enough and you know it.” His pink lips graze over yours as you lean in too. “You’ve always been a smart girl…” He’s about to kiss you when you slide back, leaving him hanging. He clenches his jaw, seeming teased. 

“I love swans because I know I can love as deep as one.” 

“I can too.”

“And I know, you know, that I love you too.”

“I do know that.”

“And I lit you up on fire, but only on paper!”

His brows furrow. “Yeah, we can circle back to that. But I don’t care. I love all that about you. And I want you to know my father has always been proud of you.” He winks. “But never as much as me.”

“We’re doing this then?” you ask nervously. “Y-you’re still going to have to grovel. I don’t give up that easily. Especially after all you’ve put me through.”

Carlos gently nods, eyes adoring you. “I’ve waited more than a decade for this moment. What’s one more?”

And he kisses you.

taglist: @urfavnoirette @lpab @d3kstar @namgification @myownwritings

*feel free to let me know if you would like to be included in the general taglist!!

[jjenthusee]

Racing Hearts Pt. 2

f1!driver!jason x reporter!reader

A/N: IM SO EXCITED FOR THE AMOUNT OF PEOPLE WHO ARE ENJOYING THIS SERIES🤭🤭 i hope you don’t mind that I tagged those of you who commented on the first part because i don’t want u gremlins (*said lovingly*) to miss out on this next part AHHHH (might change this in the future idk but this is the only thing i can think of rn) I CANT WAIT FOR U GUYS TO READ ABOUT THESE TWO CAUSE MY ROOMMATE AND I HAD SO MANY GREAT IDEAS HEHEHE <3 as always comment ur thoughts if ur comfortable, reblog, and like if ur enjoying the series \(*~*)/

Tag List: (Sorry for the tag) @jaybirdstreet @gallusstuff @meowkn @velvetberries @i0lovepink00 @rayaskoalaland @spidernuggets @janybabyy

part 3 for you beautiful people 🤭 hehehe but here’s the link for pt. 1

Tags: banter, agonizing fluff, hurt/comfort, strangers to friends to lovers

Word Count: 4.1k

“Jason, we haven’t gotten anything done for this interview that your management team wants. I need something to write about.” You nagged at Jason from the inside of your red go-kart.

From afar, Jason tries to drift his blue go-kart, his form too big for the small car. Large hands covering majority of the small steering wheel, he laughs as he passes you, your hair flying into your eyes from the sudden wind.

How is he even going that fast? You question to yourself.

Jason’s laughing like a child as he starts his next lap, you watch from the side of the track as he gets closer to you, his classic smirk on his face, the one you’ve seen on the cover of major magazines.

It was like watching his persona shift, seeing how comfortable he was. Enjoying himself, having fun. A lighthearted kid in your eyes.

Once he rounded the last corner of the track, he locked onto you, gripping the steering wheel, jerking it to one side to skid to a stop right next to you.

“Race me. If you win, I’ll answer five of your questions, guarantee it.” He beams at you, competitiveness masking his entire face. There was a lit fire in his eyes.

“If I lose?” You raise an eyebrow, intrigued.

“Come on, have some confidence!” Jason smiles.

You stay quiet, staring at him. Jason opens his mouth again to speak.

“Okay, fine. If you lose, you have to come with me somewhere. Can’t say ‘no.’” He tilts his head teasingly. Matching your stare, the white streak in his hair falling into his eyes, no longer pulled back from the breeze from driving. “I’ll even buy you breakfast that day.” He negotiates.

“Five questions if I win—“ You held up five fingers to emphasize yourself.

“That’s the spirit!” Jason interrupted from excitement.

“I get one question, no matter what even if I lose,” You wanted to make sure you got something out of today. “And I’ll go anywhere you want.” You glanced back at your steering wheel. Adjusting yourself and glancing to the race track up ahead, deciding how to effectively drive through it.

“You’re on.” Jason watched your side-profile, enamored by your serious face, concentrating as you chewed on your lip slightly.

He watched closely, noticing the slight sparkle to your eyes once you were satisfied with your plan. A slight warmth in his stomach when you surprised him, looking back at him with a smug look. A playful evil smile on your lips.

He was crazy about seeing the new reactions he riled up in you. Jason tried to memorize them, saving them into his mental photo album of you.

“Go!” You shout, speeding off, leaving him behind in your imaginary dust.

——

It was all for nothing, you had lost.

Jason had surpassed you a third of the way to the end of the track even with your head start.

Curse his world record. It even applied to go-karts.

“Is this ‘cause I stole your sandwich last week?” You groaned, exiting the track for the next group of people to get their chance to race. “It was an accident that I never took it out of the bag, I only noticed after I got home.”

You were so engrossed in finding a silly reason for Jason’s win that you almost walked into the group of people walking toward you, ready for their turn to race.

Jason grabbed the sides of your shoulders, guiding you in a different direction, careful to not let you bump into them.

You didn’t even flinch at the physical contact, getting use to Jason’s brief touch, you honestly welcomed it.

Jason was about to speak before a group of teens and children ran up to him, asking for an autograph. A small boy even asked to sign his jacket, saying he wanted to frame it. Another girl said to sign her hand, enthusiastically telling Jason she’ll never wash her hand again.

You covered your smile, watching Jason kneel down to her level, telling her how unhygienic that is, but he can sign her shirt too.

Hopefully her parents won’t be too mad at that.

You gave them space. Going to the food stands to grab a lemonade. When you turned back you watched Jason interact with the group of kids, happily making them laugh. Telling them to be safe on the go-karts.

It was cute to watch him try to take a selfie with one of the teens. They had to tip toe, trying to reach Jason’s height before he leaned down to wink to the camera.

When the kids ran off, excitedly yelling to one another at the chance encounter, you leaned against one of the nearby chairs watching Jason walk back to you.

“I do not understand kid slang anymore.” He chuckled to himself, standing in front of you. “What does ‘slay’ mean?”

You nearly burst out laughing, almost spitting some of the lemonade out.

“What did they say to you?” You wiped the corner of your mouth, a tiny bit of lemonade on the edge.

Jason looked at your mouth for a split second, then met your eyes again.

“Uh, they said I ‘slayed’ and then one boy proceeded to repeatedly say ‘skibidi?’” Jason looked at you, genuinely confused. “Did I miss something? I genuinely don’t know if I should be thankful or worried?”

“It’s just children being children, I know ‘slay’ is positive, but you lost me on the other one.” You smile as Jason raised his hand, thumb brushing the corner of your lip, gently wiping the edge.

Did you miss a spot? You were sure you got all the lemonade off.

From a distance, you heard giggling. Another group of kids watching from behind a half wall, immediately ducking behind it, hiding when you and Jason glanced over to the noise. One kid never ducked, watching intently as their eyes sparkled over the arm rest, another kid tackling him to the ground, a loud ‘oof’ echoing after a thud. Not long after, you heard two kids whisper shouting at one another.

You chuckled, amused at your nosy onlookers.

“Let’s get out of here, I got one question I need to use and I need to hear about this place you have to take me to.” You sung as you stood up, walking to the exit with Jason by your side.

——

You walked next to Jason, brisk air felt through your hair once you met the breezy outside. A slight chill eating at your spine underneath your thick jacket.

The winter air freezing more each day.

“Question time?” You glanced up at Jason.

“Not yet.” He walked up to his motorcycle, handing you a helmet.

You unconsciously grabbed it, questioning what was going on. Standing there, awkwardly holding onto it.

“Why do I need this?” You raised an eyebrow.

Jason put on his helmet, the combination with the leather jacket did wonders for your eyes.

You could no longer see his sharp eyes, covered by the black visor, reflecting your confused face.

Jason looked at you.

“A quick ride.” He nonchalantly answered, raising his thumb to rub at your raised eyebrow as you closed your left eye. “Get on.”

He was really fond of touching your face for some reason.

“I’ve never—I don’t even know how to get on.” You looked down at the helmet, staring at your reflection again.

Jason sat down on the seat, starting the motorcycle and revving it.

When he was satisfied with the sound, he waved you to come closer. When you stood at his side, he grabbed the helmet out of your hands and placed it on your head himself. Looking at his work, he nodded, satisfied with himself.

Then he pat the small section behind him.

“That’s not a seat.” You reluctantly looked between the nonexistent seat and Jason.

“Yes, it is.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. I could fall off.” You spoke through the helmet.

“Not if you hold onto me.” Jason proudly explained.

You could hear the smirk on his face despite it being completely covered. Paired with the laid-back lean he had to his body and the ego he was wearing, it was intoxicating.

You sighed. Awkwardly stepping on the small step, throwing your leg over the motorcycle, adjusting yourself as you tried to balance your weight, Jason’s build helping you practically not move the machinery beneath you.

“Did you plan this? How do you have an extra helmet?” You questioned as you tried to find something to grab onto with your hands, not wanting to consider Jason’s shoulders or even worse, his waist.

“Aw, don’t waste your one question on that.” Jason playfully revved the motorcycle again.

“Just go before I change my mind—”

Jason accelerated forward, taking off and cutting off your words as you felt your body leaning back. You nervously grabbed onto his shoulder, then pulled your weight toward him. As scared as you were, you didn’t realize you had shifted yourself, grabbing onto his waist. Pressing your helmet to the back of his broad shoulders, forcing yourself to look down as you closed your eyes.

“You asshole—“ You yelled against the wind.

“Sorry, I can’t hear you!” Jason spoke loudly, clearly lying to you.

You squeezed his side, trying your best to pinch him through his leather jacket.

He only laughed at you.

——

When you got to your apartment, he stopped outside. You were discombobulated at how fast he drove. You wanted so desperately to call it reckless, but he was also weirdly in control.

You could worry about that later.

Once Jason parked, he put the kickstand into place, but you didn’t move. Still clutching onto his jacket.

“See that wasn’t so bad.” Jason teased.

You didn’t say anything. Only looking at the back of his head, hands clawing at him.

“Hey, you okay?” Jason worriedly looked back, not able to read your expression through the helmet that blocked your face.

He tried to turn his entire torso to you as much as he could. His demeanor changed to frantic.

“Hey, sweetheart?”

That whipped you out of your blank stare.

“You better never invite me to your place or I’ll steal your TV remote, hide your phone charger, and make sure to take one side of all your socks, so you never have a matching pair.” You quietly threatened, not sounding intimidating to Jason.

He got off the motorcycle, you let go of his jacket as he pulled away.

A small laugh came from his helmet.

“Then I’m going to break into your place and use your TV, your phone charger, and wear your socks.” Jason reached out, holding his hand out to help you off.

“Don’t you dare, I have everything perfectly organized and you’re going to mess it up.” You pouted, grabbing his hand, slowly getting off the back of the motorcycle.

“Then I’ll bring my new TV remote, my new phone charger, and all my one-sided socks after I break into your place.” Jason unexpectedly pulled you close to him.

Your helmet bumping into his chest, as you tried to catch your fall on gripping his forearm with one hand, then reaching up to touch your head, but your hand only touched the smooth helmet surface instead.

You quickly glanced up. Only seeing the dark visor as it looked down to you. Jason still holding onto your hand.

“I’m sorry, I drove too fast.” Jason softly apologized, a tone you’ve never heard from him. Too soft, it made your heart ache.

You almost forgave him, almost, but your racing heart distracted you.

You prayed he couldn’t feel your heartbeat.

“Can I pick you up tomorrow morning? Breakfast and then take you somewhere?” Jason continued, warming your hand in his.

You almost lost your sanity because you swore his helmet got closer to yours.

You cleared your throat.

“I’m using that question tomorrow, for sure. You can’t back out.” You turned your head to the side, not fully back to yourself to handle the intensity of his stare.

You thanked the helmet gods for covering his puppy-eyed look with a visor.

He tapped the top of his helmet to yours, letting it rest there.

You froze. You were sure your ears were bright red. Thanking the helmet gods again for shielding you.

Jason breathily laughed, it made your stomach tingle.

“I can’t wait.” Jason whispered before pulling away from you, hand lingering on yours before he let go, your palm cold.

He helped you pull your helmet off, your hair most likely matte against your head.

Jason waved goodbye, ready to drive down the street before he yelled.

“I’ll be here by eight!”

The sound of the engine fading low in the distance.

——

You were dragging the next morning.

Getting ready, putting on your usual clothes, but knowing how much Jason loved to move around, you opted for reasonable clothes you can maneuver in.

It was a quarter until eight. Not bad, you were doing good on timing.

You laced up your shoes, grabbing a jacket. Placing any essentials you needed for the mysterious day.

Thank goodness Jason was getting breakfast, you needed something to jump start you.

When you locked your door, walking down the steps from the second floor to the ground floor, you saw a familiar motorcycle parked outside. With a familiar broad back standing next to it, the back of his head in clear view.

Your eyes brightened as you raced down the stairs, hopping down the last three steps.

A wall separated you and Jason as you stopped, hiding just before the edge, calming yourself, taking a breath, brushing off nonexistent dust on your jacket.

You casually walked out, acting like you didn’t have a burst of excitement at seeing him.

“Five minutes early? Wow, I’m honored you did that for your ‘lil reporter.’” You quipped as Jason turned back to you at the sound of your voice.

A hand brushing through his hair. What a good morning.

“Breakfast delivery, check. Your ride, check. The most handsome man in front of you, check.” Jason proudly presented his bag of breakfast goods to you.

“Aw, you shouldn’t have.” You quickly grabbed the bag, excited to eat.

After the two of you devoured your meal, you were ready to leave. You easily grabbed onto Jason’s sides, feeling the engine come to life beneath you once you joined the daily traffic.

You started to recognize the change in scenery.

Crime Alley.

You hadn’t been here in ages, a somber feeling itching at you.

After coming to a stop, you read a small sign ‘Donations and Free Meals.’

You looked at Jason, who didn’t look back at you. He moved his motorcycle into the garage to the side of the building. They seemed to be connected, only separated by a door on the shared wall. He left both of your helmets, closing the garage door.

You followed Jason like a duckling, his motions fluid, in routine.

He must come here a lot. Saying ‘Hi’ to many faces, just as glad to see him back, introducing you to every person he knew.

No one knew about any of this. Not the public, no one but the locals.

He got in line, helping to organize the stock of donations, other volunteers prepping food, just done with serving free breakfast.

You quickly fell in with the volunteers, asking where you can go to.

A new stock of winter clothes had come in, available in adult sizes and for children. You were confused, not at what Jason seemed to be doing on the weekdays he wasn’t at the race track, but why he never mentioned it.

You watched from afar, staring at Jason put on a pair of work gloves. Smiling at the other men helping him lift heavy boxes.

He was avoiding you, you knew he could feel your blank stare from across the room.

Okay, Mr. Todd. You get this one pass. You thought to yourself, moving back to hand out winter jackets to the group of kids coming in through the door. You were going to make him face you one way or another.

——

Lunch was here.

It was time to corner Jason.

When you walked around, you thanked the founders of the organization for allowing you to be here today as you passed them, looking for Jason at the same time.

Asking those you met earlier that day if they had seen him.

The best you could find out was he tends to spend the breaks in the garage next door, where he parks.

You grabbed two sandwich trays, making your way back to the garage.

You opened the door, pushing it open with your hip as you balanced the to-go trays.

“Y’know you could have told me to wake up earlier if you wanted to help out with serving breakfast.” You voiced, Jason cleaning his motorcycle with a microfiber rag. Only momentarily stopping when he heard your voice.

You placed his sandwich tray on the table, storing some simple maintenance tools.

You folded out the metal chair leaning against the wall, opening your lunch.

“I hope your not mad, I know I didn’t explain anything.” Jason stammered, nervously wiping more aggressively.

“I’m not mad. Surprised, but I wouldn’t be mad at volunteering.” You took a bite, talking like normal.

Jason stayed silent, not moving. Looking down at the very shiny motorcycle.

“Please eat with me, Jason.” You tilted your head to his plate of food.

With a sigh, he took off his gloves, sitting next to you on a bench, not facing you.

“How did you find this place?” You asked, calm.

“I was riding around one night.” Jason paused. “It wasn’t a good night before I stumbled across this place.”

Jason grabbed one slice of the sandwich, only looking at it.

“I only mentioned it, but my family…has bad history. It has gotten better, but it doesn’t resolve what happened.” Jason lost himself in the memories, before inhaling. Almost preparing himself to speak again.

“My career was at its peak, but my family was crashing again, so I distanced myself. Almost a record at this point.” He lowly chuckled, but he wasn’t amused, his shoulders slightly sinking.

You stopped eating, joining Jason in only holding your sandwich.

“I was so tied down by the Wayne family name. Like it haunted me. I couldn’t do anything without someone breathing down my neck, ready to ask about Bruce’s next scandal. I didn’t care because what did that have to do with my career? I ignored it. Let myself get lost in training, but I didn’t realize how much I evaded everything. I avoided anything to do with them.”

Jason heavily exhaled, laying his full sandwich back down. His appetite diminishing.

“I was in such a dark place. My mind wasn’t here. I can’t thank my management enough for what they let me get away with. I should have never gotten away with anything, but they helped me, assisted me. I wish I could thank them properly, but nothing I could do could make up for it.” Jason spoke, admitting a personal part of him that you held your breath at.

“It was good. I was winning again, despite everything around me, but I couldn’t maintain it. I burned out so fast that I was out for almost an entire season. But I found this place. It surprised me seeing it off the road. It was a place that supported itself, by itself. No Wayne name attached to it. It surprised me.” Jason sadly laughed again. “I was so lost, I almost forgot that Gotham helped itself too, no rich guy dipping himself in everything. The city has its issues, but the people in it work just as hard to change it.”

Jason looked at you for the first time.

“As much as I hate it, I deal with it because I want the people I care about to be safe. So just like these people here, I picked myself up.”

A heavy air settled on the both of you.

Jason stared at you, unbreakable and somber. Your breath still stuck in your throat. You didn’t know what to say. You were speechless.

You silently put down your food, moving your chair closer to him, leaning toward him.

Jason’s hands were shaking, not at all matching his hard stare, watching your every move.

“Y’know, I’ve always preferred you in red, not black.” You softly glanced down at Jason’s red hoodie.

His expression slowly softening, a small smile on his lips as his head hung low, trying to mask his pained expression.

You reached your hand out. Gently cusping your hand under his chin, gently moving his face back up to yours. It felt closer than it was.

“That must have been so difficult. I can’t imagine all the pain you went through, the pressure from your races must have hurt, but the unintentional pressure from your family…I can’t imagine it.” You spoke so softly, that it felt like a whisper.

Your thumb gently smoothing out his frown lines.

“Jason, you must realize that you’ve accomplished so much. You don’t have to push yourself until your body hurts. No one but you will suffer from that and you don’t deserve it. We’ve only met a couple of times these past few weeks, but seeing how free and loose you were, that’s the Jason I adore.” You pulled his face toward yours. Emphasizing your seriousness in your face. “You aren’t tied down by anything, you can choose what to care about. Like your racing team, your brothers, and even Bruce. It may not be my place to tell you any of this, but I’ve seen what you’ve done today. How involved you are.”

You huffed, suddenly passionate. Jason’s eyes widening.

“I talked to multiple people about what you’ve done for them, how often you come by. I don’t need to hear it from you about what you’ve accomplished. It’s what I do. I find information. Talk to the people and they can tell you so much. Although you may probably feel like you are mimicking Bruce, putting your hands in things you shouldn’t, but you don’t just drop things off with a fancy card signed with your name. You introduce yourself, put on some work gloves, and deny any food they offer you.”

Jason smiled, laughing. Feeling his breath on your face.

“Why are you laughing right now?! I’m being serious!” You exhaled in disbelief, gripping more firmly onto Jason’s face.

“I’m sorry, but I haven’t seen you so emotional. I know it sounds bad, but knowing that you’re getting so angry because of me, makes me so weirdly happy.” Jason smiled, his teeth in clear view.

You frowned.

You like Jason’s smile, but in this moment, you wanted to wipe it away.

So you pinched his cheek.

“Ack—“ Jason’s smile going away at the slight pinch. “What’s that for?” He tried to pull away, but you kept your hands on the sides of his face.

“I tried to have a serious moment, Mr. Todd.” You angrily reverted back to your formal address of the driver smushed between your hands.

“Hey—quit that.” Jason couldn’t see much as you mischievously smirked.

In retaliation, Jason grabbed the base of your chair, pulling you closer as the legs screeched against the concrete, you swayed against the movement. Clumsily falling forward, nearly colliding face to face with Jason.

“You idiot, I almost fell!” You grimaced, not fully realizing the close distance of your face and body. Your hands still on his face.

Jason fell silent.

You glanced at him, lost for words. Your eyes widening at your noses almost touching.

You entire body was just inches away from fully touching him.

Your breath picking up, your heart beats increasing.

Jason’s eyes glanced between yours. Until it fell to your lips, opened slightly as you exhaled.

Your ears were reddening.

Everything fell in slow motion.

Jason’s hands lifted from the chair, moving toward your legs.

You breath stopped.

Creak.

You whipped your head around. The door opening as a volunteer walked into the garage. A man standing still, quickly analyzing the proximity of the two of you, the sandwiches moved haphazardly. From his angle, it had looked like you were enjoying lunch, despite both of your sandwiches barely touched.

“Oh—I, sorry.” The man immediately closing the door. A loud thud shaking the walls.

“Oh god.” Your face dropping into your hands. “That is so embarrassing.”

“We’re adults, it’s not so bad.” Jason shook his shoulders, turning around to grab his sandwich to finish.

“How am I going to go out there? I swear I only do embarrassing things around you, how could I act like a little kid fighting with you—“ You stopped, following Jason with your eyes as he stood up. “What do you mean ‘we’re adults?’”

“Sorry, lunch is over.” Jason grabbed his glove on the way out, shoving the sandwich into his mouth, pointing at it like he can’t talk.

“Jason!” You yelled as he closed the door.

End A/N: I headcanon that Jason for sure heard reader rushing down those steps and he nervously tried to fix his hair in his side mirror HEHEHEHE

[jihyoruri]

can we get a wow!yn and winter oneshot? they’re so intriguing to me I just wanna see how their relationship was😭

I LIKE YOU — kim minjeong x reader

warnings: wow!yn, idol au, fluff, (you can also find more wow!yn things on my masterlist)

the sound of the pounding rain of outside hits the windows of the dorm it over takes the sound of the movie coming from the tv in front of the three girls who are sprawled on the couch.

“she’s so stupid.” yizhuo says towards the girl on the tv, jimin and minjeong nodding in agreement, minjeong opens her mouth to add onto the younger girls comment but the sound of jiggling keys cuts her off.

the three girls turn their heads to see aeri at the door way taking her keys out of the lock, minjeong was about to shout that they’re watching the movie that she recommended but it dies in her throat when she sees the tall figure behind her member and she’s instantly nervous.

they watched as the two girls walked fully into the dorm, “I brought a gift guys!” aeri, “every girls dream.” she says wrapping an arm around yn’s waist, presenting the taller girl like she was on sale.

she wasn’t on sale actually, and minjeong so wanted to say it when she saw the way jimin’s gaze lingered on yn.

“hey yn,” yizhuo said towards the girl with a smile, who returns her smile, they’ve always had a nice friendship, definitely nowhere near close as yn and aeri but they’ve always been cool with each other, it’s probably because they’re the same age.

yn and jimin just give each a nod of acknowledgment, like always.

minjeong feels her face heat up when yn turns her gaze towards her, she awkwardly waves at yn who just laughs at the older girl.

“I think you wore your last batch of clothes in my room the last time you were here.” aeri says to yn, she was about to offer to lend you some but yn cuts her off.

“I should have some clothes in minjeongs.” yn says nonchalantly, causing everyone to pause and look at minjeong who looks in her lap in embarrassment.

“oh?” aeri says looking at minjeong and then at yn and yizhuo lets out a laugh while jimin just looks at her phone.

“yup.” yn says before playfully kissing aeri’s cheek and walking towards minjeongs room.

a couple minutes go by and everyone stares at minjeong waiting for the girl to explain but all she does is cough awkwardly and gestures towards her room before getting up quickly and walking towards her room.

she hears aeri yell a “we’re talking about this later.” before she closes her room door.

she turns around to find yn laying on her bed in more comfortable clothes with her phone in her face, she lets out a sigh and walks over to the girl and plops right on top of her, earning a grunt from yn.

“you didn’t have to do all of that.” she says to yn pointing her finger at the girls face, causing yn to bite it earning a squeal from the aespa member.

“do what?” yn aks putting her phone down and bringing one of her her hands to rest behind her head looking down at the girl laying on her, “I needed my clothes.”

“I know…” she mumbles, “but now they’re gonna interrogate me.” she whines earning a laugh from yn.

“and I’ll be there to witness it.” yn jokes, “can’t wait.”

minjeong rolls her before sitting up and adjusting herself to straddle yn, “are you sleeping over today?”

yn shakes her head no as minjeong plays with the star ring on her finger, “not today, I gotta help hyunseo with her homework.”

minjeong lets out a playful aww earning a an embarrassed groan from yn, “you’re such a big sister.” she says poking the girls cheeks.

“stop.” yn whines, moving her heated face away as minjeong laughs.

after the laughter dies down she grabs yn’s hand again and plays with the star ring, “yn?”

“hm?”

“I like you a lot.”

there’s silence before yn grabs winter’s necklace and mutters a soft “I know.” before bringing the girl down to meet her lips.

[carlsangel]

a deeper understanding (g.i.t.w, ch. 2)

carl grimes x fem!reader

warning: none.

masterlist here!

other chapters here!

Carl spends the next couple of days trying to figure you out. The first true day at Alexandria, he was forced to get to know everyone else first. He doesn’t even know you but you are automatically more important than everyone here. He’s just so intrigued, it’s like you’re overwhelming his mind. He couldn’t help but ask the teenagers of Alexandria as well.

“Wait…you go out the walls?” He’d been spending time with the teenagers of Alexandria. Ron, Mikey, and Enid. This question was directed to Enid who is sat on the bed opposed to the boys on the floor. She was focused on a comic which is apparently more important than the conversation that’s occurring. “Yeah it’s not hard.” She replies shortly. He can’t help but want to know more. “W-well how I mean the walls are…so…high.” His voice gets quieter when he realizes how dumb he sounds, stating the obvious.

Enid rolls her eyes at the fact that he’s still talking and she slaps the comic down in her lap to look at him. “I use large bolts to get up, there’s massive crates against the back wall which are shorter so the fall down isn’t that far.” She explains. Hm…large bolts. “Do you think I could borrow them? The bolts?” He inquires. Ron chimes in. “What’re you leaving the walls for? Tired of us already?” He chuckles. In all honesty, yes he is. He just wants to see you. “No…it’s just I’ve been seeing this girl out there. The…ghost in the woods?” He feels sort of silly calling you that.

“Oh yeah, Enid’s met her.” Ron adds. “Like barely. She doesn’t speak. Ran off quite quick, you’re not gonna find her.” She says. Carl thinks about that, knowing that he’s somehow going to prove her wrong. He just knows it. He ends up receiving the bolts from Enid anyway and the next day, his mission to find you.

He makes his way to the south of Alexandria to search for you there first. It takes him a while but he was able to find some sort of tracks. He’s learnt a little from Daryl along the past two years and he is educated enough to know that the tracks aren’t a walkers. He looks around the forest a bit, back and forth between trees.

Then, he sees you. Finally.

He starts to speak before you start to run away which initially catches him off guard but he needs to talk to you. So he chases quick after. After a bit of chasing, he soon realizes there’s no point, there’s no sight of you and on the floor is a small trail of tracks almost in a circle. It looked like you walked around between a couple trees and just vanished since the only trail leaving the circle was the one you came from. He spots a bag with an American flag patch as well as a rifle laid on it. He looks at that for a moment before looking around aimlessly.

You were in a tree just watching from above.

He doesn’t even think to look up even though his first sighting of you was in a tree. He starts to look closer at your belongings. You felt like an idiot for leaving the rifle down there, you’re realizing he could definitely take it but since it’s been getting jammed so much it’s no use. He does actually take it in his hands which sets you off. “Don’t touch that.” He looks up at you once hearing your voice, he sees you sat up on a thick tree branch, hugging the trunk before you began to climb down.

He was touching your stuff, you knew he wouldn’t do anything but still. He set it back down and waits for you to get down and once you do, he realizes you look way different than the first day he saw you. “You’re the ghost in the woods?” He asks gently, backing away from your belongings as he looks you up and down, taking note of how clean you are. “That’s what they call me in Alexandria yes.” You walk over to your bag and pick it up as well as your rifle. “What’s your actual name?” He questions, you sort of smile at him though. “I don’t do all that.” You tell him, which is ultimately confusing.

“Do what?” You two sort of start to circle each other without even realizing it. “I don’t really like to learn names. Or give mine out for that matter.” You explain. He nods, knowing he really doesn’t care. He wants to know you; he wants a deeper understanding on who you are. “I’m Carl.” He states, catching you off guard. Now you “know” him. “Didn’t you hear me?” You stop circling and sort of just look at him annoyed. He shrugs. “What’s the harm in knowing my name?” He questions. You hate to talk to him more because you can already tell this might become a situation.

“Attachment. I hate it. It’s easier to lose someone you don’t know.” He listens to your reasoning and understands. He just wants to understand why you’re still talking to him. “Why bother sticking around then? I heard you like to run away a lot.” He teases. “I do. But you touched my stuff. Usually people walk away. Sometimes your people leave me things. Well, one guy really. They never know I’m here because for some reason no one checks trees.” You tell him. He listens but only catches onto a couple details.

“One guy? Who?” You rack your brain of the features of the man. “Umm…he’s white, brown curly hair, looks nice.” You describe someone Carl knows as Aaron. “Oh Aaron.” He spits out. You mentally scold him for spilling another name. “Yeah I guess.” He didn’t realize until after. “Well why’s your stuff so important, what do you have in there?” He points over to your bag. “Normal shit I guess. A walkman, the batteries are kinda faulty. Um…books I’ve read seven times…other things.” He smiles a little after hearing what you have. “Well I can bring you some. I can fix your gun too.”

What? “How’d you know my guns jammed?” He points at your gun but feels it’s easier to show you. He walks over and you step back but he puts his hands out to show that he won’t do anything. Once you ease up, he shows you. “The slider to pull the chamber open. It won’t pull back all the way because there’s a bullet stuck inside.” He explains, pointing at the chamber of the gun and you act like you understand what he’s saying. “I could take it back to Alexandria…maybe get it fixed.” You contemplate it for a moment. It would be nice to get some new batteries too. “I have comics I could bring you too. I’m sure you’re out of entertainment.”

Why is he making all of this sound fantastic? You’re not supposed to be getting attached. That’s the last thing you’ve wanted but you could already sort of feel it happening. With how close he was to you and how kind he was being. It felt oddly comforting which was a bad sign. All of it was. But you just need it. “Yeah okay.” You reluctantly hand him the rifle and he takes it in his hands carefully. “Great. I’ll see you back here sometime soon?” He smiles, knowing he completely broke you. He was able to break the ghost in the woods. Maybe not exactly the friendly spirit, instead a sassier one. More closed off than you’d think. “Come back in two days.”

Once he was gone, you regretted letting him take the rifle.

─── ⋆⋅ ꒰ა 𐚁 ໒꒱ ⋅⋆ ───

He came back two days later with a bag and no rifle. You plop down from the tree and have on a different outfit and you still look clean which reminds him to ask you why. “How are you so clean?” He asks, letting the bag fall off his shoulder and onto the floor. “Rivers exist. Do you have my rifle?” You retort, he disregards your comment. “Needed my dad’s help to fix it, it’s harder to fix than I thought. We’ve got some…stuff going on at Alexandria.” He tells you, digging through the bag. You’re quite annoyed to say the least, but he continues to ramble. “Comics or batteries first?” He looks up at you and then back down, his hat tumbling off his head and landing at your feet.

“You said you’d fix my rifle.” You repeat, looking down at his hat before picking it up for him. “I’ll have it for you soon, okay?” He watches you dust his hat off. “Can I have that back?” You furrow your eyebrows and hand it to him. He pulls about three comics out of his bag and puts them in your direction. “These are my favorite…X-Men, Invincible and Spider-man. I can bring you more tomorrow.” He also hands you a pack of batteries before zipping up his bag. You shove them in your pocket and walk to a tree to sit at the bottom of. He joins you.

“You’re also bringing my rifle tomorrow.” He nods with a small yet guilty smile. It’s weird you found yourself sitting there with him. You just talk about anything and everything. He explained how his mom died, how he was the one to kill her. He told you about a farm, a man named Shane, and a prison. You liked listening to him talk, he was very kind but sort of cold. He was warming up a bit to the idea of being normal, however.

When he had to leave you almost felt sad, but you tried your best to push those feelings down. He came back the next day, then the day after that. Then the day after that. All you would do is sit with each other and talk, except you never quite mentioned what happened to your family. You’d talk about how good a of a cook your older sister was and how much your dad adored movies, but never where they went or what happened to them. It always made him think about it, even though he thinks he already knows. One thing about you is no attachments, which is a rule for you that he broke. He doesn’t know how, he likes to think maybe he was able to smooth talk his way into catching your eye but…he wanted more.

He wanted you to join Alexandria.

On the fifth day he’d come to visit you, he brought you snacks. Something you mentioned to him was how marshmallows were important to you. Something about a memory you had mentioned but you never went into detail. He brought you water and marshmallows and while sitting with you at the tree you guys were snacking and chatting. “I didn’t realize Alexandria had such luxurious snack selections.” You say jokingly, popping one into your mouth and chewing your way through the puffy food. He looks at you and smiles. “I’m telling you, you should join.” He tells you seriously, you just hate to hear him out. “And be normal like you? No thanks.”

He smiles a bit more but really wants to get through to you. “I’m serious y’know.” You look over at him, your smile fading slightly. “I am too. I’m not trying to do attachments, I told you that.” You explain. He thinks about your attachment rule, he finds it stupid. “What’re we doing then?” His voice is quiet and he just stares at you while you look ahead. “I think you should join. It’d be good for you, a lot safer.” He’s doing his hardest to convince you but he’s just pushing you to be more irritated. A no is a no.

“You know what? We’re not doing anything here, actually. Thanks for the— marshmallows and the water. The comics and the past few days but you’re right. I don’t know what I’m doing.” You stand up and dust off your shorts. “Bring my rifle here tomorrow. Please.” He looks at you silently and nods, regretting everything he’d said before. He just wants you to be safe.

The next day he doesn’t meet you at the tree. Although you understood why since that same day, you witnessed his dad and another man you knew was an asshole brawl it out in the middle of the street. He didn’t come the day after that, but the community was having more issues with one of the leaders dying as well as that same asshole from before. You try to hunt the next day, but you only have a knife and it wasn’t as effective. Not to mention, there was a blaring noise coming from Alexandria, but there were too many walkers for you to make it back and check it out. You hid in yet again another tree.

You wish you never gave him your rifle.

Your dad’s rifle.

tag list: @zomb-1-egutzz @lunarnightt @hiro--aoki @h00d-tr4sh @callsignwidow @lilyglasergrimes @smollbean42905 @deadgirlwalkingx @txrasbae @lalaloopsie12309 @crusadecherryblossom @violetashfall @amanita-raine @prettylittlevampire12 @shadowybasementmiracle @junkyard-juno27 @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n

[satans-helper]

In Your Fantasy

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x (F) Reader

Word Count: ~5300

Warnings: semi-public sex (like...very low-key), oral sex (F receiving), unprotected PIV sex. 18+ only ~

This took me forever to finish because I started it before my stupid tonsillectomy and I was totally useless throughout most of the recovery. Also, it's been absolutely ages since I wrote a Jake x Reader fic so I'm not sure how I feel about it...I really enjoyed writing this regardless of my trepidation though. I loved the idea of falling in love with him at work and him being so cheeky...hope you enjoy it too <3

P.S. also ages ago, I wrote a Josh x Reader fic that also took place in a library which you can read here. Links on my desktop masterlist aren't active for some reason...but I found it using a certain tag lmao. If you know, you know.

---

You were finishing up fixing the order of some art books in the back of the library when you felt Jake come up behind you. “Wanna hear something kind of crazy?” he whispered in your ear, his chin nearly on your shoulder, his hair brushing against yours. Without even seeing him, the closeness and warmth of his body and the low, husky whisper sent a tingle up your spine–he certainly added a level of intrigue to working in a library. 

“Always,” you said, slipping the last book into the correct spot. It was a quiet Thursday afternoon–you’d thought it’d actually be busier given the rain that kept bucketing down outside, creating an even cozier atmosphere, but maybe people just wanted to stay home with their books instead. That was fine by you. You liked it when it was nearly dead silent throughout the building and Jake was there to occasionally break through, his voice a river through your thoughts and his subtle touches all shockwaves to your heart. 

When you turned around to face him, Jake looked like he was holding back a hilarious joke or something, eyes all eager and a grin tight on his lips like he was bursting at the seams. “So I just went to the bathroom and guess what I heard?” he went on, raising his eyebrows. 

You scrunched up your nose, already worried. This wasn’t what you were expecting when he’d said ‘something crazy.’ What sort of craziness happened in libraries anyway? “There are a lot of things I can think of. Is this a gross story?”

Jake chuckled. “It depends on your definition of ‘gross.’ Okay,” he said, looking around to make sure you two were still alone in the section. Then he looked into your eyes again and lowered his voice even more to tell you, “There were people fucking in there.” 

You scoffed, offended on behalf of the library–the sacred, beautiful space where people went to relax and read, not deal with lewd conduct. That wasn’t crazy, that was just offensive! “What, like two guys?” you questioned, tilting your head, a little irked at Jake finding this all so funny. 

“No, a guy and a girl.”

“Ugh. That’s even worse. Women shouldn’t have to deal with getting laid in a men’s bathroom,” you said, then were momentarily distracting yourself with yet another out of place book on the shelf.  “I’d never do that. I can’t believe someone else is. I mean, kids go here.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Jake said slowly. He leaned against the bookshelf and looked at you pointedly, his dark eyes even darker in the dim light. “Then again–”

Before he could finish, you had another thought. “Wait, Jake–did you say anything to them?”

“No. What could I say? I just high-tailed it out of there as soon as I heard.”

You sighed. The whole thing would be far more redeemable if your boyfriend had at least tried to throw out some warning words to the perpetrators. “You should have told them to stop. I would have.”

“I’m sure they finished soon after I left.” He smirked. “It sounded like they were pretty close.”

You groaned quietly and turned away, preferring to find another thing to busy yourself with now. “Gross. They should be banned.”

Jake followed along right at your side as you whisked through the rest of the art section and back to the cart you needed to empty. “I didn’t see who they were, so no chance of that.” At the cart, he put his hands on it, keeping it in place. “I actually thought you’d find it sort of amusing, Y/N.”

You leaned over, almost close enough to touch your noses together. “You’re such a guy. Only a guy would think it’s amusing and not disgusting.” 

“I don’t know about that. Maybe you’re just a little stuffy,” Jake replied, tilting his head up as if he were challenging you. “Although maybe I shouldn’t be surprised, considering we’ve never done anything like that.”

You scoffed again and leaned back, surprised and still a little irritated, but also genuinely curious. “Oh, so you want to fuck around in a public place? That’s something I didn’t know about you.”

Jake’s challenging stance turned crestfallen, and he lifted one of your hands to press a kiss to. “Forget I said anything about it. I mean, I suppose you’re right–it is kind of gross.” He kept your hand clasped in his for a few seconds as he said, “But I’d never make love to you in a public bathroom. I’d hope you know me better than that.”

You looked over your shoulder at the sound of a man clearing his throat, settling down into a chair with a newspaper. He wasn’t paying any attention to you or Jake, but you gave the cart a push anyway, cajoling Jake off it so you could navigate to where you needed to go next. 

“It’s really the fact that it’s the bathroom that makes it so gross,” you whispered as Jake kept following you. You couldn’t deny you’d had some secret fantasies about getting it on in the library–after all, it was where you and Jake had met and where you continued to spend the most time together. But none of your fantasies included the restrooms in the hall, or the utility closet or that little corridor tucked away across from the restrooms where the vending machines were. Too grody, too cramped, too obvious.

“At least our bathrooms are clean.” Jake parked himself right next to you once you were in the biography section, and when you stepped away from the cart, he wrapped his arms around your waist and held you in place. “But if I’m being really honest, I have thought about us, well, fooling around here. I think it’s quite surprising we never have.”

“Jake,” you said in an attempt to protest, but his sweet, pretty face and ticklish touch on your waist made you giggle, and his confession that echoed your own secret thoughts lit a little spark. “We work here!” 

“So? All the more reason. It’s always been our special place.” Jake smiled as he got even closer to kiss you; you kissed him back, looping your arms over his shoulders. He was smiling even bigger when you both broke away and he said, “You know, it’s just me closing tonight. You should stay after with me.”

“God, and do what?” you replied, but, despite yourself, you were growing more intrigued. 

“Well, don’t you think the study rooms here are nice and cozy?” Jake questioned, still latching himself to your side as you started to put more books away. “There aren’t any cameras in any of them either. No one would know.”

You looked up at him from your crouched position, sliding a book into place. “Someone would know. Someone would find out somehow.” You were quickly finding even more perfectly good reasons in your mind not to do this, to not even really toy with the idea, but the more you thought about it, the more you thought, why not? Could the risk make it more fun? Even just the new, ill-fitting, sort of scandalous environment? 

Besides, Jake really did look hot today. He looked hot every day, but the second you’d seen him after he’d come into work earlier, he’d lit a fire in your belly that was more intense than usual. His hair had the perfect level of slight messiness and the relaxed black button-down shirt was perhaps one or two buttons shy of being overtly inappropriate for work; the smooth tan skin of his chest exposed and acting as a lovely backdrop to the long silver chain dangling, the pendant hitting his sternum. You could imagine tugging on that chain, grasping the pendant in your palm, to pull him closer while he pressed you against one of those thick wooden tables. You’d run your fingers through his hair and kiss him in the frozen silence, and maybe no one would ever know after all.

“I can practically hear the wheels turning,” Jake remarked, tapping your forehead once you were standing again. “You know you want to.” 

You let out an inadvertent nervous giggle and rolled your eyes. “Yes, I’m thinking about it.”

Jake stepped closer, pressing you back against the cart of books. “I’d love to hear some of those thoughts,” he said, putting his hands on your waist.

“You’re lucky it’s dead here today,” you said, keeping your voice a whisper despite the, indeed, dead library around you. You rested your arms over his shoulders, twisting a strand of his hair between your fingers; Jake just kept looking at you with that sweet, silently begging gaze until you giggled, relenting. “Okay. I was, um…thinking about you pushing me down on one of those big tables.”

Jake’s eyebrows rose. “What else?”

“Well…” you began, looking down at his dark jeans rubbing against your skirt. “You’re giving me some more ideas now.” You lifted one foot off the floor to rub your calf over his, the delicate material of your tights creating subtle but scintillating friction against his denim. 

Jake ran the tip of his nose up your cheek and whispered in your ear, “Same here.” 

Just as you were closing your eyes and allowing yourself to let your environment fall away around you, to forget about all the risk of being caught right there, and just as Jake’s hand was sliding down between your legs, a person’s incredibly soft–thanks to the clever carpeting job–footsteps headed your way yanked you right out of the moment.

Jake, too. He shot back and cleared his throat, ran a hand through his hair and looked in the direction of the footsteps; you did too, and soon enough an older woman with her nose already in an open book trotted past the shelves. 

“See?” you whispered, gesturing at the passer-by who was already out of view. “It’s so easy to get caught.”

“Please, that lady didn’t notice a thing. Alright,” Jake said before he stole one last hurried kiss. “I should let you keep doing your job and I should carry on with mine. But will you stay after with me tonight?”

You pursed your lips as you looked at him, considering, but it wasn’t long before you said, “Alright, Jake. I’ll stay after and we can play out your little fantasy.”

“It’s your fantasy too, baby doll,” Jake said with a wink before he half-turned, beginning to step away. “I think we’ve established that.”

-

There wasn’t a whole lot to keep your mind occupied as the afternoon carried on. The rain kept coming down, hammering hard against the roof and windows, and the sky outside was pure gray, all flat and blank. It reminded you of your first day working here, as a matter of fact–that morning in the previous late October, when autumn’s chill was officially in the air. A fine layer of frost had even been on the ground that morning; your shoes had crunched over it on the short walk to your car and you’d had to use your defroster once you turned the key, your anxiety peaking as you had to wait even longer to start the new job. 

How could such a quiet, peaceful place encite so much anxiety anyway? You remembered wondering that very question as you walked over the sidewalk to the library entrance for the first time since being hired, the concrete slick with that morning frost and the beginnings of a gentle rainfall. And just when you’d been settling in and getting comfortable, Jake had showed up and introduced himself, all casual and easy like he didn’t know he was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen.

Thankfully, Jake was also the sweetest man you’d ever met. It didn’t take long before his beauty and charm stopped intimidating you and instead just made you feel all light and full of joy–you were simply happy to chat with him whenever you both could spare a few minutes. Those few minutes steadily turned into shared breaks; then, shared lunches where you’d sit out back on the one picnic table when the weather permitted. Then he started bringing you special treats sometimes, things he knew you liked because he actually listened about what you liked, and then after that he started bringing you whole lunches packed with love and care that you’d never experienced before. 

So, after all that, was it really such a big deal to make love inside the place in which you fell in love?

None of your other coworkers even seemed to notice that you were staying later than planned this evening. But, just to be safe, you also made a point to hide out in the kid’s section when closing time crept up, busying yourself with cleaning up stray crayons and markers and then browsing through some of the newer picture book additions when you were done with that. 

When you were sliding one picture book back onto the shelf and reaching for another, you noticed the part of the library beyond the kid’s section dim; you stood up and walked out into the main area, and there Jake was behind the checkout counters flipping switches.

“Despite almost always being the one to close,” he said, flipping another switch. “I still sometimes forget which lights actually get turned off and which ones stay on.”

A path of yellow light led the way past the checkout and reception, past the few rows of public use desktop computers. Jake held your hand as you both stepped through the library, your heartbeat speeding up a bit with nervous yet delightful anticipation; a few more steps and you were further into the very back of the library, just about there. Four study rooms were staggered just beyond the teen reading section, two on the left and two on the right with a wall of windows in between. 

Jake opened the door to the last study room on the right. A large window was in there too, soaking in the deep sunset that was resting beyond the grass outside and the trees, and the mostly-bare branches of all the trees were throwing shadows across the library grounds. Then Jake flipped the light on, making it all disappear.

“Oh no,” you said, reaching behind him to flip it off again. “It’s sort of magical with the light off. Look at that sunset.”

Jake followed your gaze out the window to the wash of deep blue painted across the sky, nighttime so early in autumn that only a slight sliver of golden-orange remained just on the horizon. The rain had stopped a few minutes ago and had left a lingering mist on the ground, its faint haze trailing along just outside the windows–the whole scene was so much more peaceful than what was going on inside your head. You couldn’t shake the possibility of getting caught even though Jake was right about there being no cameras back here, and there was no one else around, not even any of the custodial staff, and not a soul out there in the fog. Just you and Jake in the little dark study room, his hand still warm around your own.

Your thoughts started to drift away, making space for your mind to comprehend the shadowed image of Jake before you as he gently turned you to face him. He smiled with the slightest bit of white teeth gleaming between his full lips, and you instinctively smiled back, pulled under his charm again. So, now effortlessly charmed and put at ease, you wrapped him in your arms and pulled him close, caressing his shoulder blade with one hand and the slight curve of his waist with the other as both of your smiles disappeared into a kiss. 

“You were making me crazy all day,” he remarked between the kisses that accelerated with both of your lips parted and the wet meeting of tongues. 

“Really? You kept it well-hidden.” Of course Jake did–you never doubted his affection and passion for you, but he kept everything so private. It was one of the many things you liked about him. You cupped the back of his head, sinking your fingers into his hair, scratching his scalp with your nails just the way he liked it, and kissed him again.

“God, your ass in this skirt,” Jake said, voice a little rough, and he reached down to grab you there. “The way your hips move.” He licked his bottom lip as he took a moment to just look at you, his eyes scanning your face. “So unbelievably pretty.”

You held the side of his face. “You are too, Jakey.” He really was, and even in the dark–perhaps especially in the dark, actually. The shadows enveloped him in even more mystery than normal, but you could still so plainly see the angles of his face and the smoothness of his skin in the faint, distant glow of the lingering sunset. Jake smiled at the sound of that little nickname coming from you, then disappeared as he pressed his lips to yours again and pushed you back against the table just like in your little fantasy. 

You felt the warmth of his hand travel around your hip then slide down over your skirt; you kissed him harder and spread your legs a little wider when his fingers skated effortlessly up your thigh over your tights. Jake purred against your mouth as he traced the seam of those tights, and subsequently the crotch of your panties beneath, with one fingertip, and your own hands hurried down his body with much less grace to squeeze his ass and feel the hardness between his legs as reciprocity. 

Before you could do much more than that, he was pushing your skirt up all the way with one hand and continuing to use the other to tease you. Your breath caught in your throat as you were finding yourself trying to stay silent despite the library being completely empty; Jake carried on with longer, deeper touches over the crotch of your panties and tights. The steady back and forth of his fingers over the two thin layers of fabric sent a delightful tingle of pleasure up your spine but you couldn’t forget his either–you kept that one hand of your own on his crotch too, gently squeezing his erection through his pants.

Jake huffed softly and kissed you again; you clutched his arm with your other hand, squeezing his bicep. Maybe other people didn’t mind getting caught–maybe there really was some sort of thrill to it. Maybe other people actually sometimes wanted others to witness their most intimate moments but you didn’t. You couldn’t imagine doing this with the lights on in the middle of the day, with the soft noises of people beyond the walls and the risk of someone catching a glimpse from opening the door or from outside the windows. You were perfectly happy with having Jake all to yourself in the shadowed little square study room, his skin so perfectly warm, his kiss so perfectly molded to yours.

“Was this part of your fantasy?” Jake questioned as he slowly sank to his knees, keeping your skirt bunched up over your hips with both hands now. But it was obvious what he was doing, so you took their place to keep it out of the way while his hands squeezed your thighs as he pressed his face between your legs.

The scant sharpness of his teeth over your crotch made you gasp. “Maybe,” you answered, thighs quivering against the table behind you.

“Oh, come on,” Jake beckoned, looking up at you with a sweet but slightly mischievous gaze, his eyebrows raised just enough to display teasing curiosity. 

“Seems like you already know,” you replied, stifling a giggle at him struggling to get your tights down from beneath your skirt. 

“I don’t know how you wear these things,” he remarked, which made you actually let out a laugh.

“Just rip them for fuck’s sake,” you instructed, eager now, already wet for him. “They’re not expensive.”

Jake didn’t hesitate. “If you insist,” he said as he grabbed a fistful of black nylon in each hand and ripped the tights right open, then quickly pulled your panties to the side next, giving you no time to think at all anymore. Whatever words your mind may have found merely turned to shaky breaths as you watched Jake’s face disappear between your legs again.

He gave a little hum just as he went straight in, the bridge of his nose rubbing up against your clit while he dove his tongue into your center like he really did want to eat up all the arousal that had been conjured up just for him. Your fingers found his hair again, knuckles curling to tug the long strands while your nails scratched his scalp again and he let out a little pleased sound, almost like a gratified laugh, and dug his own blunt nails into your inner thigh as he kept you spread open. 

One word finally emerged from your lips–Jake’s name, simply spoken in a soft tone as the ministration of his tongue and lips had you squirming and quivering even harder, your heels digging into the carpet below as you slightly struggled to stay upright. The repeated flicks of tongue over your clit disappeared for a brief moment, then slowed to one long drag of his tongue over your center just to start that quick pace again. Sighs and whimpers were dragged out of you with each lick; when Jake slipped two fingers in, the slow but easy stretch made you tremble and clench your fingers into his hair even harder.

“You’re so tight,” he commented when he pulled back just enough for you to look down again and see your own wetness glistening on his lips and chin. You could feel it too, how much tighter you were clenching around his fingers as he gently thrust them and teased, curling them and now rubbing your clit with his thumb.

“You’re so good,” you told him breathlessly, closing your eyes again when the sensations had you arching your back. You hissed and bit your lip when Jake’s mouth found you again, his tongue teasing your clit more while he slid his fingers in deeper.

You had thought it would take more of a conscious effort to relax in this space and just let go, but it was easy, so easy–you just let your body respond to Jake with each tremble and moan and gasp and tug at his hair until your legs were outright shaking. Panting, the peak rising deep inside, you pulled him closer and he obliged, sucking on your clit as his fingers curled and gently tugged deep inside you too as if he was literally trying to pull you right to the edge you were already rapidly careening to.

His name from your lips once more wasn’t a soft little sigh; it was a sharp, long whine that seemed to boom in the little study room. Your ferocity surprised you even more when the overstimulation came on so soon and you yanked his head back with one hand and shoved him away with the other, your hand gripping his shoulder. Panting, eyes still shut, you could feel how much wetter you were with his saliva and the rush of your orgasm, the fluid soaking your panties that were pulled to the side and even the very inside of your thighs. 

Jake pressing a kiss to your thigh made you look down but he was getting up on his feet now; your gaze followed the steady movement of his rise and then you were whisked away into blissful darkness again when he closed in and kissed you–close-lipped because he was so polite. But you parted yours and slid your tongue over his and gripped his waist tight for a moment before hastily getting those buttons on his shirt undone, fingers trailing all the way down to get his pants undone next. 

He tentatively pushed you back onto the table a bit more so your feet were off the floor, legs still spread wide around him and dangling when he pulled his pants and underwear down just enough to reveal that heated hardness. His cock leaked just a bit as he stroked it once, looking at you, and a blip of that old insecurity born from adoration and fascination stroked your brain, because Jake was just so beautiful and his beauty was so much more stark in contrast to the plain white walls behind him. 

“That was intense,” Jake said with a chuckle, leaning in to kiss you. You sighed against his lips as he slid the head of his cock all through your wet center, making a point to rub longer and harder over your clit. As he slid in, taking your breath away entirely, he sighed too and you watched his shoulders drop and his chest flush and he asked, so casually, “Is your fantasy being fulfilled?”

Even with the impact of Jake’s cock filling you so perfectly, you had to laugh. “You're a fantasy, Jake,” you told him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to bring him closer, to make the head of his cock hit so deep inside you that you gasped again as if you weren’t expecting the feeling. “What about–” You had to pause when Jake gave his first thrust. “What about your fantasy? This was all your idea.”

“It was a shared idea,” he reminded you with the cutest little smile. How could anyone be so sexy and adorable at the same time, especially during the actual act of sex, especially when that sex was taking place inside a public library? But he was, and you kept your eyes on him as he steadily sped up with his hips and his hands explored your body over your clothes, one squeezing your breast through your shirt and the other smoothing down your waist, your hip, traveling around your thigh.

“Oh god,” you chirped when Jake’s fingers made contact with your still-sensitive clit; but he was gentle, clearly deliberately being slow with the little circles he was making. With your arms still a loop around his shoulders, you sank your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and held him there for a minute before the soft pink of his chest became too tempting not to touch.

“Fuck yeah, that feels amazing,” Jake said in that deliciously hazy, husky voice after you slipped your hands past his open shirt to toy with his nipples. Bringing more attention to him put your lingering overstimulation in the background–you continued to tease with one hand while the other skated over the other side of his chest, feeling his warm, soft skin, up to his neck. You caressed him there, your fingers lightly touching the tender skin along his throat and then up to his ear, and Jake moaned softly and tilted his head to try and get more contact.

That was fine by you. You lightly scratched behind his ear like he was a cat and he sort of purred like one anyway, making you giggle; Jake giggled too and surged forward, picking up his pace as he whisked you away with another series of kisses that were deep but just sloppy enough for your mutual moans to be voiced. 

But, also to your surprise, Jake began to voice more thoughts between increasingly ragged breaths: “Remember when we first met?” he asked, his fingers over your clit sliding down to get slick again from your own arousal. “That was–fuck, that was such a good day.”

“It was,” you agreed, playing with one of his earrings as your other hand squeezed his pec. “I’m lucky I even got the job here. For a lot of reasons.” You stole another lingering kiss before adding, “You’re the biggest reason.”

Jake smiled. The sunset that had been just barely clinging to life when you’d both began was gone now–the only illumination was coming from a parking lot light that was too far away from the windows to see, but the pale yellow glow was scant enough to see that alluring, mystical beauty that your boyfriend possessed. Just looking at his face was enough to make you come again.

But Jake’s skilled fingers and the heat, weight and stretch of his cock still thrusting into you certainly helped. You buried your face against his neck now that you had access to all of him; a thick sob was muffled as you tightened and spasmed around him, and you heard him let out a quiet “wow” as the second orgasm rolled through you. 

His fingers on your clit, thankfully, moved away. He gripped your thigh again instead; his pace was now messy and fierce, and you had to fight to stay in place not only from the harsh movements and how the table you were sitting on was skidding a bit across the floor, but also from that second round of intense bodily excitement. 

“God,” you huffed, stifling another laugh. Apparently it didn't matter where you were–if you were with Jake, he just gave you the giggles. “You’re really going for it.”

Jake cradled the back of your head, messing with your hair a bit. “And I’m–hmm–almost there.”

You kissed him softly and sweetly, from his collarbone and up his neck to his ear. “Good boy,” you whispered there, giving his ear a nibble. Jake moaned wordlessly in response and gave one last deep, solid thrust that jostled you backwards and made the table creak, then he went slack over you, his whole upper body all loose and so hot that warmth was radiating through his shirt.

When Jake lifted his head, you leaned back and waved the back of your hand over your forehead with a silly “whew” motion; Jake laughed and nodded, then slowly pulled out. He collapsed forward again, resting his head on your chest, and you wrapped your arms around him once more. 

“Well, we’ve done it once. Do we ever need to do it again?” you asked, petting his back.

“Like, um, sex?” Jake asked, mumbling against your chest. “Or sex in the library?”

“In the library, duh,” you said with a chuckle, and kissed him when he lifted himself up and looked at you. 

“Where else should we do it?” Jake replied, his tone and little smile making it obvious he was kidding–finally. You were glad to have played out this little fantasy and do something new and a little risky, but you’d be even more glad to just go back to the way things were. Nothing wrong with a classic. 

“Our bed, definitely,” you said, and Jake smiled and nodded again; you began working on buttoning up his shirt. “Our couch. The floor. Maybe the shower.” 

“Maybe?”

“Last time we tried the shower, you nearly cracked your head open,” you reminded him, lifting a hand to cup his jaw. “And nearly broke your perfect teeth.”

Jake’s smile grew wider. “That would be terrible, wouldn’t it?”

“I’d never forgive that stupid shower.”

Jake patted his hands from your shoulders down the length of your body, stopping at your ankles. “Well, babe, we’re both in one piece now, aren’t we? Time to close up?”

“Definitely. The custodians are probably going to be here any minute.”

“Oh my.” Jake held your hand to bring you off the table. “That would have been quite the show for them.” 

“No more shows,” you said as you both put the finishing touches on getting yourselves decent before Jake opened the door. “I should be the only one looking at you when we fuck.”

---

If you'd like to be tagged in any of my fics, you can let me know here or DM me :)

Tagging: @kissingsun @starbuggie @lightsofthe-living-gvf @sanguinebats @gvfrry @milojames16 @mindastreamofcolours @wetkleenex-gvf @itsafullmoon @heckingfrick @peaceloveunitygvf @musicspeaks @clairesjointshurt @bizzielisteningtogreta

[cameronspecial]

hey lovely!! i’ve been thinking about rafe spoiling angel and taking her to those cute little stores with all of the cute plushies and stuff. idk, but i absolutely love your work, and i literally giggle and kick my feet when i see that you’ve written more 😛

ilysm pookieeee 😋😋

Let Me Spoil You, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Sex

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.0K

A/N: Thank you so much. It makes me giddy that you enjoy my work!

Masterlist

Y/N had just found out that she got into her top-choice Master’s Program and Rafe couldn’t be more proud of her. She’s been working so hard, so he wants to reward her for her accomplishments. “Rafe, why are we at the mall? You know I mostly shop at outlet stores,” she complains. Rafe brings her to his side, “I know, but why don’t you let me spoil you, Angel?” She exhales and bobs her head. “Fine, but not more than a hundred dollars,” she limits. She really does love it when he pampers her, but she needs to set some boundaries or else he’ll buy the whole mall. He shakes his head, “One thousand.”

“Two-fifty.” 

“Five hundred.”

“Fine, except I get to buy dinner.”

Rafe is satisfied with the offer and holds his hand out for her. He doesn’t want her to feel guilty about him always spending money on her. The first stop on their tour is the bookstore. He purposefully picked this mall because of the big indie bookstore inside. This is probably where she’ll spend most of her money. She has been browsing the science section of the store for about ten minutes now and has already picked out a few books. Rafe wants her to choose whatever she wants; however, he has a small request. He resets his chin on her shoulder, “Could you throw in some spicy romance books? I like proving to you that I am the ultimate book boyfriend.” Y/N giggles, remembering what happened when he caught her reading Icebreaker. She takes his hand and heads over to the romance section. She browses the books for a few minutes and picks one out. She examines the back, proceeding to add the whole series into the basket. “What’s the book about?” he asks because he is intrigued by the fact that she wants to buy all four books. She smiles at her, “The first one is a grump x sunshine book. She is a photographer and he is rich and her brother’s best friend. I’ve seen it on Bookstagram.” 

He follows her further down, “That sounds interesting. I can’t wait to see where it has us having sex next.” Shy about his words, Y/N turns her head away and continues to look at the books. They spend about forty minutes in the bookstore before moving on to  Miniso. Y/N stares at the wall of stuffed animals in front of her. She knows she wants one, but can’t decide which to choose. “Okay, so there are four possible ones that I want. The penguin, the cat, the bear, or the banana. Which one do you think, Rafe?” she consults. Rafe doesn’t use words to reply; instead, he goes to each one she points out and puts it inside the bag. He adds an elephant in just because he thinks she’ll find it cute. “Rafe, that’s too many. Where am I going to put them?” she reasons, trying to reach into the bag to return some of the plushies. 

He holds his hand out to stop her, “It’s still within your budget. We can put them in the frat storage if there isn’t space in my room and when we find a house in the summer, we just have to make sure there is enough room for them.” “Okay, I guess we can do that. Come on. I want to buy you some things too,” she tells him. They pay for the toys and she drags him to J. Crew. “You don’t have to use the money on me. It’s supposed to be for you.” She turns to him with a grin, “I know. This is for me too. You are going to do a fashion show for me.” Rafe isn’t one to like going shopping, but he will find joy in it if Y/N enjoys it. 

Y/N sits on the little stool Rafe got a sales associate to bring over, waiting for him to come out of the changing room. The door opens and he comes out wearing the teal and white-stripped button-up shirt with the tanned chinos that she picked for him. He does his best to catwalk towards her and spins around for her to take in the full look. “What do we think?” he questions. She gives him a thumbs up, “Rafe, you look so good. We are definitely getting those.” He nods his head before going back to the changing room to try on the next outfit. He comes out in black shorts and a light blue polo, which compliments his eyes. He mocks taking a golf swing, “This is the perfect outfit for golfing. We are going to have to get you a matching one.”

“I don’t golf, Rafe. You know that.” 

“I do, but don’t you think it would be fun to have a matching outfit? I can teach you how to play.” 

“Fine, it would be cool. We can go next week. Now, go finish trying on the rest of the clothes.”

He gives her a mock solute. After trying on the other outfits, they get her a matching outfit to Rafe’s and then go pay. They head to his car, having spent five hundred dollars in almost three hours. It’s a new record for them honestly. Rafe opens the passenger side door for her and she slides into the seat with a thank you. He puts the shopping bags in the trunk, making his way to the diver’s side. “Did you have a good day?” he postulates. His eyes land on her beaming mouth and she holds his chin in between her fingers. Her head moves up and down, “I had the best day. Thank you for spoiling me, Rafe.” She gives him a sweet kiss. “I will always shower my angel with gifts. Now, where are you treating me to dinner?” “Let’s get sushi!” she announces, pointing her finger in forward. He chuckles at how adorable she is and starts the car, driving in the direction of her favourite sushi restaurant.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @queen-shadow22 @nonbullshit-toleratingkindagirl

[decembermidnight]

Learn your place

Summary: You challenge Joel's authority at a meeting. He does not take it well. In fact, he'll teach you where your place is.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word count: 4.8k

Warnings: smut, 18+ mdni, dom!Joel, brat tamer!Joel, age gap, wet hair Joel, dry humping, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), edging and orgasm denial (f), humiliation kink, degradation kink, praise kink, lots of dirty talk, spitting, face slapping, creampie, bathtub sex, mirror sex, cum eating

A/N: This is the first time I'm writing for Joel and I'm so excited! This is loosely based on a dream my bestie had. I decided to turn it into a Joel oneshot and gift it to her (and to all of you, of course) for Christmas. As always, comments and reblogs are very appreciated. Divider: @saradika-graphics

Masterlist - read on Ao3

They sent you to meet the Boston group immediately out of the quarantine zone. They came all the way here to settle the score with your rival gang, who tried to fuck with them too.

You set up this meeting to deal with those motherfuckers together and, why not, maybe even establish a new partnership.

There's three of them, one has an angry scowl on his face - you notice him immediately. You can see by the way he walks that he's fuming, but what really gives it away it's his eyes. You've never seen eyes so expressive - looks that could kill. He’s just your type - dangerous, older man.

"You must be Joel." you cross your arms and try to look tough.

His dark eyes scout you as you try to appear as impassive as possible. You notice the way he's looking at you from head to toe, intrigued.

“I am.” he answers, a subtle smirk on his face.

"Good. The others are waiting for us. Let's go."

You sneak back into the QZ and then to the headquarters of your group, an apartment building on the outskirts.

While you have the meeting in the basement, you feel Joel's gaze on your body. You try not to look at him too much but it's hard. He's magnetic and charming, sitting with his arms crossed right in front of you. You keep exchanging looks as the others talk.

Right when your group leader says something about what happened with the rival gang, he starts talking.

"Just tell me where their hideout is - I will go there now and kill them all like the rats that they are." he says casually, shrugging.

"That’s not a good idea." you instinctively reply in a quiet voice.

"What the fuck do you know about this anyway?" he snaps at you, not enjoying the way you challenge his authority.

"You can’t kill everyone who steps in your way." you try to be superior and keep calm, not wanting to give in to anger yet.

"That's the only reason why I'm here." he growls back.

"If you do so, FEDRA will be on us and will ruin all of our plans, including yours. I have worked my ass off to be where we are now and I will not allow that." you stand up from your chair and look at him from head to toe "Now shut up, and listen to what we’re going to do."

"Are you giving me orders?!" he snarls as he stands up and starts walking towards you.

You two look at each other in the eyes, making the room atmosphere unbearable for everyone except the two of you. The others are silent, feeling the tension, the anger, the looks you exchange.

"Hey, you two. Calm down. We came here to find a solution, not to fight between us." Tommy, Joel’s brother, intervenes, but it has now become a challenge to hold your gaze into each other’s eyes.

"Joel. Let's hear what they have to say. They know the territory and the people better than we do." he adds.

Joel looks at you from head to toe. "Fine." he growls as he goes sitting back in his chair.

The rest of the group goes on talking about the best strategy to adopt, but you two are too busy glaring at each other to even bother paying attention to what they’re saying.

After what it felt like years, a compromise was reached. Joel, his group and a couple of your guys are supposed to go there and scare them off, just to give them a warning, an ultimatum.

Everyone finally leaves the building and you remain alone to complete some minor tasks before heading back home.

It’s only a matter of minutes - you’re almost done with your assignment when a heavy storm breaks out and not long after, you hear a loud explosion coming from the city.

You’re just about to go check the window when you hear a loud banging on the door and immediately go see who that might be.

It’s Joel, to your surprise, and he’s completely drenched due to the storm outside. You must admit he looks even better with wet hair.

"Fucking Fireflies blew up a building and now FEDRA is patrolling the streets. We split up. This house was the closest to where I was. I need a place for the night." his voice is authoritative - he is not requesting it, he is demanding it.

"Look who came back begging for my help after showing me no respect at all. What if I say no?" you cross your arms and lean on the doorframe, a smirk on your face.

He scoffs and shakes his head.

"So willing to spare those fuckers' lives, but when it comes to help your new ally, you refuse?"

"So… you're my ally now?" you taunt him.

You see that look on his face again, his eyes full with rage staring back at yours.

"Are you having fun?" his voice is firm and cold.

You chuckle, seeing how quickly he gets pissed off.

"You can bet I am. Come with me, I'll show you a spare room we have."

He nods and follows you upstairs.

"That'll do?" you ask as he looks around the small apartment, hands on his hips, knee tilted out. He gives you another nod in assent.

Just as you turn around to leave, you feel a hand grabbing your wrist firmly.

"Hey. Where do you think you're going?!" he pins you to the wall, his left hand leaning on it so that you can’t escape from him. You hold your gaze and look at him in his dark, angry, lustful eyes.

"Did you enjoy speaking to me like that earlier?" his voice is firm and low-pitched, almost a growl.

"W-what?" you are caught by surprise at the way he grabbed you and at the way he’s addressing you right now, and you don’t know how to react.

"Did you really think I'd let it pass by? After the way you spoke to me during the meeting?"

You are speechless, you suddenly feel hot, your breathing is getting labored and your chest heaves due to the abrupt tension filling the room, but you still try to challenge him with your eyes, glaring at him like earlier, not wanting to appear weak in front of him.

"Little brat. Disrespecting me like that, speaking to me like that, and now looking at me like that. You think you're tough?"

You keep holding your gaze, staring directly at him.

"Stop it. Now." you try to act stiff and impassive, but the intense way he’s looking at you is making you falter.

"Still trying to speak to me like that?! There's nobody here to impress, no one can protect you here." he goads you, his face getting closer to yours.

"Protect me from who?"

"From me. Little brat." he grabs you by the hair and starts kissing you in an angry, passionate way. You lean into the kiss as he sticks his tongue in your mouth, welcoming it and doing the same with yours, savoring the faint whisky taste on his lips. You can't help letting out a moan at how much you're enjoying it. When he hears that, he pushes you further against the wall and starts to rip your clothes off your body feverishly, beginning with your shirt. His lips trail down to your neck as he unhooks your bra and unbuttons your jeans, yanking them over your ass together with your underwear in one swift move.

"J-Joel..." you sigh when he runs his hands all over your naked, quivering body, feeling how soft your skin is, playing with one of your hardened nipples as his teeth sink into your neck.

He turns you around, slamming you against the wall.

"Shut up. You need to learn your place. I will show you where you belong." he growls lustfully.

"H-how dare you… Asshole-" you let out in an aroused sigh as he brings your arms behind your back, holding them still in the tight grasp of his hand.

"I told you to shut the fuck up. You don't get to speak to me like that, do you understand?!"

He gets close to your ear.

"Speak when you're spoken to. I said - do you understand?" he whispers darkly as he lets his right hand slide between your legs and starts touching your clit, feeling how wet you got for him already.

"Y-yes..." you moan.

"I knew it." he smirks "Acting all tough and badass earlier, but you're dripping between your legs. This pussy is begging to be fucked, isn't it?" he rasps, his hot breath on your neck as he slides two fingers inside of your achingly needy cunt, earning a desperate groan of pleasure from you when he does. You can’t hide anymore how much you want this.

"Yes, it is." he growls in your ear, answering himself, pleased as he hears your breathy moans when he draws circles on your clit, his fingers soaked in your arousal up to the knuckle.

“Now let me see how obedient you are and take your clothes off." he orders as he keeps teasing your slit.

You step out of your boots and jeans in a rush, now completely naked at his mercy.

He then grabs you by the arm and takes you to the bathroom, forcing you to kneel in the tub as he opens the tap to fill it with warm water.

He starts to slowly unbutton his flannel shirt as he has his gaze locked on yours. You look at his face, at his dark eyes that are devouring you in hatred and lust.

When he starts to unbutton his jeans, you divert your eyes from his and look at the bulge in his underwear.

"Hey. Eyes on me." he lifts your chin with his hand, but it’s hard to resist when his erection is right in front of your face.

“What are your eyes looking at, hm? I saw that. Disrespectful brat. I believe I said to look at me.”

You try to mumble some words but you can’t speak, too aroused to even think of an answer.

“Answer me. Were you looking at this?” he grips his cock tight in his hand, and you try not to look away from him this time.

“Look at it.” he grabs you by your hair and forces you to look at the deliciously thick cock in his hand as he slowly strokes it before your face.

“Do you want it?” he coos darkly.

You nod lightly, entranced by the way his hand slides on the thick shaft, following its movement with your eyes.

“I didn’t hear you.” he rasps as he lowers himself to your level and closes the tap.

“Yes, Joel, I want it. Give it to me.”

“Still giving me orders? What did I tell you about giving me orders?”

“Please, Joel, give it to me.” you plead.

“Hm, that’s better.” he says as he walks into the bathtub and sits.

He grabs your waist and makes you straddle him, and then he starts to kiss you again. He cups your face with his hands as he sticks his tongue in your mouth. You abandon yourself to him completely, following his lead and feeling his erection brushing against your lower belly.

"Here." he grabs you by the hips so that you can start grinding against him. You let out a moan when you feel the tip of his cock brushing against your clit and keep dry humping him to give yourself pleasure.

"Look at you - getting off on my dick like the desperate slut that you are. Hmm? You like it?"

"Fuck. Yes." you let out in an aroused sigh as you keep rolling your hips on his.

His hands keep guiding your movements as you go on kissing each other.

His lips start to trail down your neck, covering it in kisses that make you groan uncontrollably as you keep dry humping his cock.

He grabs his cock in his hand as the other one pushes your butt down to make you sit on it. You feel his thick girth stretching your needy walls, feeling every ridge and vein as you slowly sink down on it, making you both moan looking at each other in the eyes.

Once he’s inside of you completely, you start riding him, your hands on his shoulders as the water ripples and sloshes and he looks at you, a dark smirk on his face when he sees how much you're enjoying it. You get close to him to moan on his mouth, to see his reaction. He gets close, so close to your lips, but that's when you pull away to tease him. He growls, grabbing your hair with his hand and bringing you to him, taking what he wants, sticking his daring tongue in your mouth one more time. The longing, passionate way he’s kissing you and his thick cock stretching your walls bring you close to the edge already. You feel the tingle of the orgasm approaching, your breath gets even more laboured and you start trembling. He notices, feeling you shake under his touch, panting on his lips.

"What?! Already? No. Not yet. Don't you even think about it." he digs his fingers in your butt cheek to push you further down on his cock, impaling you, and grabs your head with his other arm, holding you still against him as he starts to brutally pound you, making your eyes cross.

"Fuck! You're gonna make me come!" you scream.

"Hold it for me." he replies in a low grunt in between thrusts.

“Joel-” you plead in between moans.

"Not yet. Not yet."

You moan louder as your grip on his shoulders tightens and your eyes squeeze due to the pleasure.

"Hey. Eyes on me." he reminds you.

You open your eyes and your nails start scratching his skin in a desperate attempt to obey his order, making him grunt.

"I can't Joel, I can't, please-"

"Stop it. I said not yet."

“But I’m so close!” you whimper.

He sighs as he slips out of you, leaving you needy and empty, making you whine as you feel your climax fading away as you were right on the edge.

"Get up. Now."

You comply whimpering as you both get out of the tub, now in front of each other.

"On your knees." he orders, and you obey immediately.

He lets out a dark chuckle when he sees how obedient you got.

You look at him in the eyes as he grabs his cock in his hand and trails the tip on your lips, only for you to give small licks to it, tasting your arousal on it.

He pushes its tip in your mouth and you welcome it, avidly sucking it while looking at him, smirking at you. He grabs the back of your head and pushes his cock into your throat, making your eyes squeeze shut.

"What is it? What is it, huh? Acting like a badass earlier and now you can't even take it all in your throat?" he keeps your head still, cupping it in his hands, as he thrusts into your mouth getting off at how welcoming and yielding you have suddenly become. He pulls your head away from his cock and you gasp for air, your face is drenched in spit and precum and you have tears in the corners of your eyes.

"Look at me. Oh, you don't act like a badass anymore, huh? Where's that superior look you gave me during the meeting? Where is it? You looked at me from head to toe but damn, look at you now. I want to fuck you. You need to learn your place."

He kneels before you, lowering himself at your level.

"I want to fuck you." he growls articulating his words as he passes his thumb on your lips, cleaning the spit from your mouth.

“Now get up.” he orders as he pushes his thumb in your mouth and you suck it, feeling your needy cunt clench when you hear him saying those things as he looks you in the eyes.

When you stand up, he grabs your chin and kisses you rabidly and lustfully as you walk towards the bed, where he pushes you down and lays on top of you, leaning on his elbow as he grabs his cock in his hand.

“Let’s see if you still act like a badass now.” he slides his cock inside of you, smirking at the way your lips part in ecstasy and at the moan you let out, your eyes opening wide at how delighted being so full of him makes you feel.

Once he’s deep inside of you, he starts to slowly thrust in and out of you. He cups your face with his hands and gets close, so close that you can feel his hot breath on your lips.

“Can you feel how wet you are?” he whispers.

You nod, smiling at him, hearing the obscene sounds your drenched pussy makes as it helplessly sucks his thick cock in, clenching around it in ecstasy, making you roll your eyes.

When he sees that, he immediately sets a brutal, devastating pace. You’re enjoying it so much that you can’t hold back your screams and can’t even look straight anymore, your eyes squeezing shut in bliss.

"Fucking look at you. Slut. You can't even keep your eyes open." he slaps you in the face and makes you smile and clench around him, so unbelievably turned on at the humiliating way he’s treating you.

"Your dick is too good." you mumble.

"Hmm? Too good? Show me. Open your mouth."

You do, obeying his command instinctively, sticking your tongue out for him, and he spits inside. You moan provocatively as you savour his saliva in your mouth and then swallow it.

"You like being fucked and treated like the fucking whore that you are, don't you?" he grabs you by the jaw, forcing it open, bringing your face close to his and spitting in your mouth once again. You lick your lips greedily, humming and looking at him in the eyes as he treats you with such disdain.

“Enjoying this dick so much, you can’t even answer me. What would little miss strong independent woman from earlier say if she saw you now, hm? What would she say?” he goads you, but the only result he gets is you getting even wetter and louder.

He gets up on his knees in front of you as he spreads your legs to bury his cock even deeper inside of you. He grabs your arm to lift you, so that you’re now straddling his lap, his cock pleasurably rubbing against your clit as you groan helplessly. He’s holding you tight in his arms as you wrap yours around his shoulders. He passes a hand in his hair to comb his wet hair out of the way. You divert your eyes from his to admire his thick bicep as he does, biting your lip when you get a glimpse of that, but he grabs your chin.

“Look at me, fucking look at me.” he growls “Where is the thug smuggler from earlier, hm? Where is she? You wanted to look smart in front of everyone, but where are you now? Where the fuck are you now? Who the fuck do you think you are? You wanted to act bossy with me. With me. You need to learn your place when you talk to me. Understand?”

You nod as he keeps talking to you like that, beginning to feel the tingle of your orgasm between your legs.

"Come on now. Let me see how good you are at riding my dick." he smirks as he lays down on the bed so that now you’re on top, your hands on the sides of his head and his fingers digging tight into your hips. You immediately start riding him, feeling how wet you are - your arousal drenching the both of you, making everything slick and slippery and hot. You let your hips roll, feeling his cock sliding in and out of you, your clit brushing his skin, getting you on the edge of your orgasm again. You try to keep everything inside, hoping he won’t notice how fast riding his dick gets you embarrassingly close in no time.

“I can see you’re almost there. You can’t hold it anymore, can you?”

“I can’t - can’t take it anymore, Joel.” you stutter.

“I told you no. Not yet. Hold it.” he orders in a calm, low voice that has the opposite effect, getting you even closer.

“Joel, Joel, I can’t-”

He grabs your hips so that your pussy is now grinding on his cock, making it a torture to hold it in. You can tell he’s having fun with it, looking at your desperate face, hearing your pleading voice, feeling you clamp around him.

“Joel-” your hands curl into fists, grabbing the bed sheet under him out of desperation.

“No, you can’t hold it. I can see that. You can’t. You’re such a whore.” he mocks you.

"Please, please let me come." you plead him.

He smirks as he looks at you.

"Beg me."

"I beg you, Joel. I'm begging you. Please, let me come. Please, please please-"

"Begging me?" he chuckles "Couldn’t ever imagine the proud woman I saw earlier downstairs begging me to let her come. Give you a little bit of dick and look at you - a begging girl? Holy fuck, you're pathetic."

"Please, please, please" you keep chanting, even more turned on by how he's treating you.

"Fine. If you want it so much, you can have it. You can't help it, hm? You can't help coming on my dick. Let me feel how tight your little pussy gets for me. But don't you even think it’ll be over. I'm not done with you. Now come, fucking slut. Come. Come!" he snarls.

You finally let it all out and come on his dick, screaming loudly, spasming around him uncontrollably. You try to keep your eyes on him, but they can't avoid rolling up.

"Coming so fucking hard you can't even look at me. Whore." he chuckles darkly.

As the feeling of the orgasm slowly fades out, you pant and stay still to catch your breath as he keeps pounding you.

"More. Please, Joel, more." you let out in your post orgasmic haze, smiling at him, your eyes nearly closed, feeling blissful and dizzy.

"More?! You want more?!" he snickers "Aren't you an insatiable whore?"

"Don't stop fucking me, Joel. Don't stop."

"Still giving me orders, I see."

"Please, don't stop."

"So pathetic. Bet you want to come again. Do you want it?"

"Yes. Yes, please."

"Then obey me."

You nod.

"Let me see it. Let me see that beautiful pussy getting pounded by my cock."

You lean back and stand on your feet and hands, legs spread wide open to give him the best visual, just like he wants.

"Good girl. Now ride it."

You start riding it and he grabs your hips to guide you - he lets his dick slip out almost completely, only leaving the tip inside for a few seconds. You look at him, shaking and whimpering at the lack of his cock. When he hears that, his gaze goes from your pussy to your eyes, and that’s when he brings your body down, slamming it deep inside of you as he watches you throw your head back due to the pleasure of feeling so full of him once again.

"Hey. I told you to keep your eyes on me." he grabs your chin and slaps you in the face.

He keeps guiding your movements by holding you by the hips to help you move up and down in conjunction with his thrusts.

"Will you look at that? So beautiful." he starts to touch your clit with his thumb and you lose it completely, letting out a loud, breathy groan.

"How badly do you want this?"

"So. Fucking. Bad."

He keeps rubbing your clit as he thrusts into you relentlessly, until you feel your orgasm approaching once again.

Just when you're about to come, right when you’re on the edge, he stops.

"What the fuck, Joel?!" you snarl at him and he smirks in response.

"Look at the angry whore from earlier. I was wondering if she was still with us. Here. Here's your orgasm, you needy slut."

He starts rubbing your clit again, driving you over the edge in no time, making you come. He looks at your pussy spasming around his dick as you groan loudly, completely out of control.

Once the feeling fades out and you come back from your high, he puts the very same thumb he used to make you come in your mouth.

"Suck it."

You do, brushing it with your tongue, licking it clean, savoring your orgasm as he keeps railing you.

“Come on. I’m not done with you. Stand up.”

Your legs are shaky as you obey his order. He brings you to the bathroom, bending you over on the sink, in front of the mirror and immediately sticks his dick inside of you so hard that air leaves your lungs in a breathy moan and stays still.

“Fuck yourself on my cock.” he orders, his gaze locked on the mirror.

You start to move your body to obey his order and feel his dick slipping in and out of you. You bite your lip moaning provocatively as you do.

“What a fucking whore. You make me want to wreck you.”

“Please, Joel, do. Wreck me.” you plead groaning as you keep fucking yourself on his dick.

He grabs you by your hips, pushing his cock deep inside of you, and resumes the brutal pace from earlier, making you roll your eyes.

"Fuck. What now? Look at you. Look how pathetic you are when I fuck you. Look at yourself. Did you really think you could go against me like that? You looked at me with those eyes, such a strong woman. Now look at you, look at yourself in the mirror."

His dick is so good you can't even lift your head.

"I said look." he grabs you by the hair and pushes your face against the mirror.

You’re an absolute mess - wet hair sticks to your face, flustered and hot as he keeps giving you his cock.

"Where is that gaze now? Where is it?! Where is that gaze now that my cock is inside of you?! Do you like how good I’m fucking you, huh?! Your pussy is so wet, I'm going fucking insane! You are enjoying it so much, I can feel it, aren't you?! Tell me. Speak, whore."

"A-ah... Y-yes I am" you can only mumble.

"Say that you're Joel Miller's whore as you look at yourself."

"I am Joel Miller's whore." you drawl, subjugated by the way he’s dominating you, taking genuine pleasure in saying that.

He starts to rub your clit with his fingers, making you roll your eyes and smile.

"Who is making you come so fucking hard?"

"You!" you scream, on the edge of your orgasm already, panting and shaking in anticipation.

"Scream my name when you come, fucking whore."

You can only let out the first syllable of his name before it’s turned into a loud scream. He holds your hair tight in his grasp so that you’re forced to look at yourself as you come.

He grunts when he feels how tight you get for him, strangling his thick cock in your grasp.

"You can't even speak properly, you look like a completely different person from before. Don't you feel ashamed, slut?! Oh fuck, your wet pussy is making me come. Do you want it? Do you want my cum?? Speak, whore." he rasps.

"I want it. I want it, Joel. Please, I want all of your cum." you pant in bliss.

"I can't fucking take it anymore, I'm coming. I can't stop... Your pussy is so fucking perfect. I want it. I want to fill you up with my cum. I wanna put you back in your place. You won't be so daring in looking at me like that next time. Let me give you a hard lesson. I-I can't-" his voice is hot and desperate as he gets close to his own orgasm.

His grip on your hair and hip tightens and he snarls as he comes, giving you a few hard thrusts, pushing his cock deep inside of you and filling your wrecked pussy with his hot cum, pulsing and throbbing inside of you, headily panting in your ear.

He slips out of you slowly, making you look at his cum dripping out of you. He collects it with his fingers and brings it to your mouth.

“Eat it.” he orders.

You immediately welcome them into your mouth, looking at yourself in the mirror as you taste the salty bitterness of you two blended together, humming in pleasure as he pushes his digits in your mouth.

“Yeah - that's what you fucking get. Don’t you ever, ever, disrespect me like that again. I hope you did learn your place.”