#this was literally the first thing I thought of when I saw this

[witchslove]

Rivals

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: You and Wanda work together but you can’t stand each other, until one day your boss asks the two of you to fake date for a promotion.

Warnings: 18+ nsfw content; power bottom!wanda, top!reader, office sex, oral (w receiving), fingering (w receiving), mommy kink, praise kink, slight angst

A/N: I need a mean older Wanda in my life, when is it my turn?

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It was a beautiful day with a slight chill in the air as you walked down the street towards the Stark building. You had left early for work that day to get a coffee on the way there from your favorite shop, a small space on the corner of your block.

Coffee in hand, you strode to work, thinking to yourself that you couldn’t have a bad day after so many things had gone right. You’d woken up to your first alarm, gotten dressed without second guessing your outfit, and even had time to pick up a drink before heading to your office building.

Not that you had many bad days in the first place - Stark Industries was good to you. Work usually went by fast as you kept busy most days, finding peace in your daily tasks.

There was only one thing that threatened to ruin a perfectly good day at work, and that was Wanda Maximoff.

She’d worked with you since you’d started there and she’d hated you from the beginning. You never knew why nor did you question it for too long, finding that the feeling was mutual.

She was competitive and made it her goal every day to be better than you at your job. She would brush past you, ignoring your presence, while greeting your boss and then promptly find some way to one up you, making sure to jab at you subtly in the process. When others weren’t around, she wasn’t much nicer. She made snide remarks, gave backhanded compliments, and treated you more like you were an intern than her equal.

Despite her less than pleasant behavior, you tried not to let her get to you, but it was hard not to fight back sometimes.

It did bother you at times how she seemed to look down on you. You wondered what you ever could have done to make her dislike you so much. If things were different, you thought you might actually like her or want to be her friend, or at the very least her acquaintance. The first time you saw her, you were taken aback - she was admittedly a very gorgeous woman, which was even more frustrating.

Today was going to be a good day though, you told yourself. You had a cup of your favorite coffee, a song you loved playing in your headphones, and a meeting with your boss that day discussing your recent work, which you knew you’d done flawlessly.

Today was going to be a good day. Was.

What you hadn’t anticipated when you entered the Stark building, swiping your keycard to get to the elevator and going up to the 21st floor, was to see your boss at the front desk, waiting for you with the one and only Wanda Maximoff stood beside him.

She wore a maroon blouse with a fitted black skirt, the color of her shirt making her green eyes stand out, and if she was literally anyone else you would’ve complimented her style. That was another thing about her that was infuriating - she always looked good.

Your boss, Mr. Stark, laughed at something Wanda said before he noticed you and waved you over.

“Y/N, you’re prepared for our meeting today, yes?” Mr. Stark greeted, smiling.

“Yes,” you replied, nodding.

“Perfect, I expect nothing less from you,” he started. “Also, Wanda will be joining us today. I have something very important to talk to the two of you about, regarding our deal with the Osborn group.”

You tried not to let your face fall, forcing a smile and glancing at Wanda, who seemed to be pleased that she was crashing your personal meeting with the boss. You’d wanted the one on one time with him as you’d been itching to bring up a possible promotion ever since one of your staff members resigned. Your numbers had been impressive lately and you were sure he would at least consider it.

Now, unfortunately, Wanda would be part of your meeting and knowing her, she’d probably laugh in your face if she found out you were interested in moving up.

“Sounds good,” you responded as normally as you could, feeling slightly nervous for what was to come.

“See you both at 11,” Stark said, making his exit and leaving the two of you standing by the front desk.

There was a bit of an awkward silence before Wanda spoke. “You don’t seem too excited about me being at the meeting later. Do you not like me?” The redhead teased, fake pouting. “Or did you just want some alone time with Stark? I wouldn’t put it past you to whore yourself out to the boss for a promotion.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not all of us are like you, Wanda,” you replied, trying to get under her skin, despite not actually believing that she was that kind of person. It even slightly offended you that she thought you might be, especially considering you weren’t into men to begin with. “See you at the meeting.”

You walked past her to your office, setting your things down on the desk and running a hand through your hair. It was going to be a long day.

By the time the meeting came around, you’d finished your coffee and gotten some work done to kickstart your day, trying to keep your mind busy after your encounter with Wanda earlier.

You stopped by the break room for a water on your way to the meeting and arrived to the conference room a few minutes early, taking a seat next to the head of the table where Mr. Stark would sit.

The door to the conference room opened slowly and Wanda walked in, taking the seat across from you with a disapproving look on her face.

“You should really invest in some new clothes if you want to impress Stark. Yours look like they came from Goodwill,” she remarked, making a point to look you up and down where you sat. You ignored the way your body heated up at the action.

“At least I don’t dress like I want the boss to bend me over,” you shot back, not missing a beat.

“Oh, do you think about me bent over a lot?” she asked, smirking.

Now all you could think about was what Wanda might look like in such a position and you hoped she couldn’t tell you were blushing.

Before you could come up with something to say back, Stark walked into the room, adjusting the collar of his suit jacket with one hand, the other carrying a set of documents. You and Wanda both sat up straighter and greeted him simultaneously, almost as if you were competing to see who could say something to the man first.

“Glad you’re both on time, we have a lot to cover today,” Stark announced before taking a seat at the head of the table. “Firstly, Y/N, I know this was supposed to be something of a performance review for you. We can reschedule that for a later date. Today’s topic actually involves both of you, which is why I asked Wanda to sit in.”

You felt your stomach turn at the possibilities of what that meant. Maybe he had a project the two of you would have to work together on, or maybe he had finally caught on to your disdain for each other and you were both in trouble for being unprofessional.

Before you could overthink too much, he spoke again. “As you both know, we’re currently in talks of a merger with the Osborn group. They want to give us a percentage of their company in exchange for a shared client base.”

You and Wanda both nodded in acknowledgment, listening intently.

“However, Osborn is a family business that runs on certain values. Mr. Osborn has agreed to the merger under two conditions, the first one being that the CEO of our company be married, which I am. The second condition is that I hire two people to take on the merging process, which means extra work, but extra pay as well.”

He cleared his throat before continuing. “Now, the two of you are my best employees. I want to bring you both in to help with the merger.”

There it was - you were getting promoted, but you’d have to work alongside Wanda, who was also getting promoted. You tried not to show your mixed emotions, excitement at the prospect of moving up in the company, paired with the stress and slight disgust of having to work with Wanda.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad - maybe you wouldn’t have to work too closely with her.

“Here’s the catch,” Stark said, pausing for a moment to collect his thoughts. “Osborn wants a couple to take on the project. I want the two of you to do it, seeing as you’re the best in the company at what you do. It is a promotion, but if you want it, then the two of you have to pretend to be together for appearances.”

Your jaw dropped. You were finally getting the promotion you’d wanted for so long, but there was in fact a catch, a massive one at that. You had to pretend to be dating your work rival - some might even call her your worst enemy - for however long the merger would take.

“What are your thoughts?” Stark asked, looking between the two of you.

Wanda had an unreadable expression on her face. You couldn’t tell if she was pleased with the promotion or absolutely pissed at the thought of fake dating you. The fact that you couldn’t read her when you wanted to was almost as frustrating as the bomb Stark had just dropped on you both.

“I think we can make it work,” she spoke first, putting on a friendly face for show. “Y/N and I are both adults here and we would be silly to turn down such an offer.”

You swallowed, nodding your agreement. “Exactly,” you said, your voice almost cracking. “I’m sure Wanda and I can find some common ground.” As you spoke, you looked her directly in the eyes, as if your stare alone could convey that you could see right through her act and that you were only playing along too for the money.

“Perfect!” Stark’s voice broke through the tension and you looked away from Wanda to give him your full attention. “We’ll need to go over what’s required of you both for the position you’ll be taking. Not just the work aspect, but the relationship aspect as well. Osborn will have his own employees and clients here often and you’ll need to keep up the relationship act at all times.”

Stark opened the folder in front of him to pull out two contracts, one for you and one for Wanda.

“The second you’re here every morning, the two of you are together. I’ll also be paying for you to go on at least two dates a week outside of work. I know this is a place of business, but the more PDA the better. Today is for getting your stories straight, I want both of you to work together for the rest of the work day to come up with a believable foundation for your relationship and get to know each other better. I’ll take care of your individual workloads for the next two days as well, so you can focus on each other and we can get through all the paperwork. I hate to ask you to do all of this, but I trust the two of you can handle it.”

As Stark began to go over some paperwork with you, explaining each page before having you sign, your thoughts were everywhere but on the dotted line. Two dates a week? PDA? You weren’t sure you would survive faking a relationship with Wanda.

You hated to admit it, but the thought of kissing her had crossed your mind before, usually accompanied by enough disgust that you could ignore the butterflies it caused.

Wanda was beautiful - anyone with eyes could see that - and she was absolutely your type, but her personality always squashed any thoughts you might’ve had about wanting her.

Now, it was all too real. You would have to pretend to like her despite the torment she put you through since your first day at the company. You’d have to put aside your rivalry for the sake of your promotion and act like she wasn’t the bane of your existence most days.

You would have to kiss her.

Your mind was stuck on that and you couldn’t figure out why. Maybe it was fear, maybe it was something more, but whatever it was had your head spinning.

Your thoughts raced as you finished the paperwork with Stark and Wanda, who seemed far too calm and collected the entire time.

When the meeting was over and Stark had left, you ignored a snarky comment from Wanda and exited the conference room with haste. You walked back to your office, finally letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as soon as the door was closed.

The merger would begin in two days and you had no idea how long it would take or how long you’d have to “date” Wanda. Two days of normalcy didn’t feel like enough time to prepare, but you knew what you had to do. You were getting promoted, and Stark trusted you with one of the most important collaborations to ever happen within his company. You decided you would just have to focus on that to get through what was to come. Everything would be okay.

Two days went by fast, faster than you expected, and it was time to put on a show. You and Wanda had used those two days to prepare, coming up with a story of how you got together and learning more about each other to make your relationship more believable.

Of course, Wanda never missed an opportunity to insult you or tease you during those two days and you wondered if she’d be able to hold back when it was time to pretend.

It was easy enough to come up with a story. You met each other at work and fell in love over time. One night of working late turned into a first kiss and a date that would soon follow.

You’d learned a lot about Wanda as well. She lived close to work at an apartment complex similar to yours but slightly more luxurious. She walked to work some days and loved to stop for a croissant on her way when she had time. She had a brother named Pietro, who lived about an hour away. She was born in Sokovia and grew up there with Pietro before moving to the States to pursue better opportunities, which explained why she sometimes sounded like she had an accent.

She found out a lot about you as well and you weren’t sure if that made you uncomfortable for good reasons or bad reasons. It felt both exciting and also nerve-wracking to share parts of your life with someone you spent so much time hating.

You found yourself hating her a little less as you learned more about her. She was a very interesting person and you wondered what it would be like to know her as someone who she didn’t make it her life’s mission to annoy every day. You wondered if she was feeling the same way as she got to know you too.

Whether or not she was, today was the day where you’d both have to put your rivalry aside and pretend to love each other.

You stopped for a coffee on your way to work, knowing you would definitely need one, and walked purposefully to the Stark building. You arrived ten minutes early, hoping you would have some time to sip your coffee and take some deep breaths.

As you swiped your keycard and boarded the elevator, a familiar voice called out.

“Hold it, please!” Wanda said, running up to the elevator with an outstretched hand, heels clicking against the tile.

You put an arm out to keep the door from closing and let her in. “I should’ve let it close,” you said teasingly.

“I don’t know if you’ve forgotten sweetheart, but we have to be nice to each other now. Think you can handle that?” she responded somewhat condescendingly.

“I can handle it, can you?” you asked, looking over at her as you spoke.

“You underestimate me, detka.” That was new, she’d never called you that nor had you ever heard the word before, but it sounded lovely the way she said it.

Neither of you spoke again as the elevator finished its journey up. The doors opened and the two of you stepped out into the office area where Mr. Stark was waiting for you, accompanied by a man you’d only ever seen in pictures.

Wanda moved closer to you, placing a hand on your lower back as you approached and you were glad she didn’t notice your slight shiver at the touch.

“Good morning ladies,” Stark greeted. “As you probably already know, this is Mr. Osborn.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you said, shaking Osborn’s hand.

Wanda did the same after you, only removing her hand from your back to shake Osborn’s properly.

“Y/N and Wanda here are going to be taking on the merger, the paperwork is already done and they’ve been briefed on what’s expected of them,” Stark announced, gesturing to the two of you standing there closely.

“Ah, so you’re the lovely couple I’ve heard so much about.” Osborn smiled warmly as he spoke.

“Yes, and we’re so excited to work with you,” Wanda replied, subtly taking your hand in hers and interlacing your fingers.

You knew it was all for show, but it felt weirdly nice to hold her hand and you internally cursed yourself for thinking such a thing. But you couldn’t help it when her hand was so warm and soft and her thumb stroked the back of your hand idly as she conversed with your boss and his business partner.

After a few minutes of talking, Stark excused himself to take a business call and Osborn turned fully towards you and Wanda.

“Thank you for taking on such a big role in the company,” he started. “I look forward to seeing more of the both of you.”

“We can say the same, sir,” you said sweetly, leaning into Wanda a bit to help the act.

He smiled again and with that, he stepped away, walking off towards one of the offices he would be using during his time there.

You knew he had other employees around the office so you couldn’t drop the act for even a second, whether Osborn himself was looking or not, so you fought the urge to pull away.

“Nice touch leaning into me,” Wanda mumbled, so that only you could hear.

“Was that… a compliment?” You asked quietly, unable to resist the urge to tease her.

“I would say don’t get used to it, but neither of us have a choice anymore.” Wanda turned towards you, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ll see you later.”

She pulled away to go to her office and start her day and you did the same, knowing you needed some time to yourself after your first little performance with Wanda. You almost thought it was going to be a long day, but then you remembered this was going to be your every day for a while.

The charade continued as the day went on and you worked more closely with Wanda on the merger, going over paperwork and calling clients together. Osborn’s employees would come in and out of the conference room to discuss things with the two of you, so you had to endure more loving touches and heartwarming compliments from the redhead.

At one point, Stark and Osborn had a conversation in the hallway outside the conference room, which of course had glass walls, making it hard to catch a break from faking your relationship.

You were reviewing a document with Wanda beside you when she spoke.

“Can you sign this one for me?” She handed you a form and a pen.

“What, no ���please?’” You joked.

“No, I don’t think I need to ask, you’ll just do it if I tell you to,” she remarked back, catching you slightly off guard.

When you took the pen from her, your fingers touched and you knew Wanda did it on purpose. You looked over at her, feeling small under her intense stare, before signing the form and sliding it back to her.

“Thank you,” she said softly, sounding slightly distracted, causing you to look at her again.

When you did, her eyes weren’t on yours.

“Osborn has wandering eyes,” she muttered under her breath, her gaze on your lips, and before you could respond she was kissing you softly.

Her lips against yours felt incredible, you couldn’t even lie to yourself. Butterflies erupted in your stomach and in that moment, you never wanted to detach from her. You would work through why that was later, right now all you could think about was her.

You kissed her back, lips moving together in tandem, fitted so perfectly against each other it created even more conflicting feelings within you.

It didn’t last nearly as long as you wished it did, wondering why on earth you were hoping for more when it was Wanda you were kissing.

After a few seconds, she pulled away, leaving one last quick kiss on your lips before saying something about printing more documents and walking off.

You sat there for a moment, trying to collect yourself. As you came back to reality, you noticed Osborn looking in from outside the conference room and you were coldly reminded that Wanda only did that so he would see it. It meant nothing to her and it shouldn’t mean anything to you either.

With that, you focused back on your work, knowing in a few minutes you’d have to go over more of it with Wanda and the show would continue. You just had to keep reminding yourself that none of it was real.

From where she stood at the printer, Wanda smirked to herself at how you reacted to the kiss - she wasn’t going to let that go anytime soon. She knew she’d have time to tease you about it later, after she was done cursing herself for thinking about how soft your lips were against hers.

The rest of the day went by fairly smoothly. Stark and Osborn spent most of their time in Stark’s office, so you and Wanda had some time to cool off from the kiss earlier. That didn’t stop Wanda’s teasing touches however, because Osborn’s employees could be anywhere, and it seemed she was enjoying torturing you in a new way.

By the time you were getting ready to head home, you were beyond flustered and fairly certain you’d need to change your underwear. If Wanda wasn’t infuriating enough already, it was only made worse by the fact that she had this effect on you.

The days that followed were similar to that first day. You and Wanda continued to pretend to be a couple, with Wanda winding you up every chance she got, almost like she knew what she was doing to you.

Osborn was at the office a bit less every day, but his employees were always there getting work done even when he wasn’t around.

Therefore, the show went on. Wanda had gotten in the habit of giving you soft pecks on your lips before she would get up to go take care of work-related tasks and it was driving you insane. The short and sweet kisses were too much and yet at the same time, never enough.

You had come to the conclusion that you definitely felt something for Wanda, something other than disdain and irritation. As much as you tried to fight it, you wanted her. You convinced yourself she would never feel the same way though; with how she had always acted towards you, it seemed impossible.

Every touch, every kiss, every pet name Wanda called you - it was all an act. You had to push your feelings down as much as possible because you didn’t want her to find out and you didn’t want to get hurt. So you kept your guard up and tried your hardest to ignore how you felt, despite the fact that Wanda wasn’t making it easy for you.

You were starting to wonder if the promotion was even worth it.

Even so, you carried on, doing excellent work under Stark in your new position and working surprisingly well with Wanda, from both a business perspective and a fake dating perspective.

You had also found it in you to initiate more of the relationship acts with Wanda, if not to satisfy your own desires then to at least mess with her. Sometimes you held her hand, sometimes you moved hair out of her face, sometimes you kissed her on the cheek - every time, she seemed to like it. You figured she was just acting, as you were supposed to, but part of you hoped she wasn’t.

You loved that she sometimes seemed nervous or flustered when you made a move or teased her.

One time when she kissed you, you separated first, while she was still attempting to keep the kiss going. You decided to mess with her and said jokingly, “if you want to keep kissing me, you could just ask” with a smirk plastered on your face. She blushed and hesitated before she spoke. “In your dreams,” she remarked, before going back to work. You considered that a win.

Maybe it was worth it if you could get a reaction out of her too.

It had been a week since the act started and tonight was date night. Starting tonight, you’d have to go on two dates with Wanda every week. Stark gave you a company card to put all of your expenses on for the night, telling you to take Wanda to a nice restaurant he recommended and enjoy dinner with her.

You were nervous to be alone with her outside of work, but you were also looking forward to it.

The restaurant was a block away from the Osborn building, which is why Stark had picked it out for your date. You’d have to keep up appearances while you were out with Wanda, but you didn’t mind. Part of you was excited to at least feel like you were taking her on a proper date. You wondered more than anything how she was feeling about it too.

At the end of the work day, you left the Stark building and walked home to get ready for your date. You decided to wear slacks and a black dress shirt, wanting to feel confident while also not giving Wanda the satisfaction of seeing you in a dress. You straightened your hair and touched up your makeup, hating the idea that you wanted so badly to impress Wanda.

Slipping into a pair of high heels, you finished getting ready just in time for a car to pull up in front of your apartment building, courtesy of Mr. Stark.

The ride to the restaurant was quiet, giving you time to hype yourself up. It was just a date. It may have been just a date with your arch nemesis, but it was just a date. You’d been on dates before, you could do this. It wasn’t even a real date anyway, you told yourself, it was just another one of many performances between you and Wanda to secure your promotion at work.

When the car pulled up to the restaurant, you thanked the driver and got out, walking in to see if Wanda had already arrived.

As you spoke to the hostess about your reservation, the door opened and you were absolutely not prepared for what came next.

Wanda looked stunning; seeing her like this took your breath away. Unlike you, she had worn a dress. The black material hugged her body in all the right places, with a slit down the side, exposing her thigh.

“Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies,” Wanda said smugly as she approached, a cocky smile on her face.

“You look nice,” you managed to get out, trying to compose yourself.

“You do too for once,” she responded, smiling, the backhanded compliment not going unnoticed by you. You found that you didn’t mind.

The two of you were escorted to your table, where you pulled Wanda’s chair out for her and then sat down across from her.

“So chivalrous,” she commented, fingers tracing the menu in front of her.

“Anything for my beautiful girlfriend,” you said back mockingly.

“Aw, you think I’m beautiful?” she asked, smiling.

You rolled your eyes. “I also called you my girlfriend.”

“Yeah but you have to call me that. Didn’t have to call me beautiful,” she responded, raising an eyebrow. She had you there.

“Well, maybe I meant it,” you mumbled, trying to hide the truth behind your words and keep up the playful banter.

“You’re beautiful too, you know,” she said, looking at you intently. You blushed, unable to hold eye contact after the compliment. You muttered out a quick “thank you” and decided the menu suddenly seemed really interesting.

After ordering your food and drinks - you made sure to get something with a little alcohol in it - an awkward silence settled over the two of you.

Wanda broke the silence first, chuckling.

“What?” you asked.

“It’s just funny. I never thought I’d be here, at this fancy restaurant, having dinner with you,” Wanda replied, but there was no malice in the way she said it, only amusement.

“Cheers to that, because I never thought I’d be here either,” you said, taking a sip of your drink.

“Where did you think you’d be? What kind of future do you see for yourself?” Wanda asked genuinely. You weren’t prepared for the conversation to take such a turn but you answered anyway.

The rest of the dinner went surprisingly well; the two of you talked about your goals, your lives before working together, your hobbies, and anything else you could think of.

You learned that Wanda loved to garden and you found it ironic that a week ago you never would’ve thought she was capable of loving something enough to keep it alive.

By the end of the night, both of you were slightly tipsy and actually enjoying each other’s company. You covered the bill when it came, using the card Stark gave you, and the two of you walked outside to wait for your rides home.

You leaned against a brick wall, laughing at a joke Wanda told you, catching your breath. As you calmed down, you looked at Wanda, who still had a bright smile on her face. It was so genuine and real, you couldn’t help but stare, almost as if you were memorizing her face at that moment. You felt like you were seeing her for the first time. She was undeniably gorgeous all the time, but something about her letting her guard down and laughing with you allowed you to see her differently - she was breathtaking.

She was everything.

You didn’t realize you were staring for so long until she noticed and returned your gaze. Her eyes flickered down to your lips and you almost shivered at the motion.

Just as you were about to speak, Wanda leaned in.

You met her halfway, kissing her softly at first, getting lost in the feeling of her lips against yours. She brought her hand up behind your head, deepening the kiss and you almost moaned when you felt her tongue against your lips. Your lips parted to let her in and she kissed you with more passion than you’d ever felt in your life.

This was the longest kiss you’d shared, and by far the most intense one. You never wanted it to end, kissing her back just as eagerly, allowing your tongue to swipe against hers. Your hands came up to her cheeks, one finding its way behind her neck to play with the hairs at the nape of her neck.

The two of you stayed like that for a long moment, just feeling each other and forgetting what you were supposed to be doing.

When her tongue licked into your mouth again, you whimpered, and that seemed to break the spell.

Wanda pulled back, pupils dilated, a slight look of panic painting her perfect features. “Sorry, I- I’ll see you at work tomorrow.” As if on cue, a car pulled up, one of Stark’s drivers, and Wanda got in.

She was gone as quickly as she was on you in the first place and it took your brain a moment to catch up with what had just happened.

The kiss didn’t feel planned, it didn’t feel fake, it didn’t feel like it was for Osborn or Stark or anyone at the company. It felt real - it felt like she wanted you just as badly as you wanted her. You wanted to believe that but you couldn’t let yourself. She left in such a hurry she obviously regretted the kiss and you weren’t entirely certain she hadn’t just done it because she saw someone from work walking by.

You groaned, reality sinking back in. Another car pulled up and you knew it was your ride home. You straightened yourself out and got in the car, letting your mind run through all the possibilities on the way home.

When you arrived at work the next day, something was off.

“Hey Y/N,” Wanda greeted you at the entrance and put a hand on your shoulder, letting her thumb rub circles, but it felt wrong. It felt calculated, like she was just going through the motions. Even the tone of her voice lacked energy.

You felt like she didn’t want to be there and didn’t want to be touching you - it was as if she was suddenly making no effort to be convincing.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, concerned.

“Everything is just fine,” she said back, forcing a smile.

Before you could say anything else, she walked to her office and closed the door.

You went to your own office and looked over the documents you had to deal with for the day, before heading to Wanda’s office to work on them with her.

You knocked before poking your head in. “Conference room?”

“Sure, I’ll be there in a sec,” Wanda replied coldly, void of any emotion.

You tried to ignore the way she was acting but you couldn’t. It wasn’t her usual cruelty towards you; this was somehow worse.

A few moments after you set up in the conference room, she came in, ignoring you and getting straight to work.

All day, she handed you papers to sign and occasionally put an arm around you when an Osborn employee walked by, swiftly removing it once they were out of sight.

At one point, Stark came in and gave you both a mountain of paperwork to do with a deadline of tomorrow morning at 8am. He apologized and said you could both stay late and get overtime, then left the room to meet his own deadlines.

So now what felt like the longest day of work was actually going to be the longest day of work.

Wanda’s behavior persisted throughout the day and well into your overtime hours. Everyone had left the office so there was no one left to put on a show for and Wanda made sure you knew that.

Her overall coldness towards you was bothering you more than it should’ve and you finally said something.

“You know, this whole relationship act is supposed to be convincing.”

“No one is here now,” she retorted nonchalantly.

“You’ve been acting like this all day.”

“And I’ve been touching you all day and being sweet with you in front of the others,” she said, before looking at you. “What, do you need more? In case you’ve forgotten, this whole relationship act is exactly that - an act.”

“Don’t talk to me like that,” you said, suddenly feeling sick to your stomach. “Like I’m making this something it isn’t.”

“If the shoe fits,” Wanda replied, going back to her paperwork.

“No.” You stood up. “You don’t get to act like I’m the one blurring the lines between real and fake. You didn’t have to kiss me like that last night, but you did.”

She stood up too. “Maybe someone was watching, Y/N. What do you want me to say? That I wanted to kiss you? That I did it because you’re so irresistible I couldn’t help myself?” she snapped back callously, like she was trying to hurt you.

“I don’t care about the kiss!” You raised your voice. “I care about this promotion and I won’t let you ruin it just because you can’t handle whatever happened last night.”

“Nothing happened last night, it was a kiss. We’ve done it before. It meant nothing!” Wanda yelled back.

“Who are you trying to convince, me or yourself?” you said, holding eye contact.

With that, she shoved you against the nearest wall. “I hate you,” she said, her voice almost a whisper, before she leaned in and kissed you hard.

Unlike your other kisses with the redhead, this one didn’t start out soft. It was rough and full of emotions. It was fueled by all the feelings swirling around within the two of you that you had yet to vocalize.

You kissed her back, you couldn’t help yourself. Just moments ago she had you on the verge of tears and now here you were, kissing her back like your life depended on it.

Your hands came up to her neck and you deepened the kiss, lips moving against hers purposefully as if you were trying to prove a point.

Your tongues met and mingled, both of you gasping and moaning into each other’s mouths. You didn’t separate until you needed air.

“Just a kiss, huh?” you breathed out, your noses still touching.

“Shut up,” Wanda said back just as breathily.

“Make me,” you challenged, wanting to be difficult but also wanting her to kiss you again.

She leaned back in, lips connecting with yours, kissing you much softer this time. Her tongue met yours and it made you weak in the knees, the slowness of this kiss compared to the roughness of the first one making your head spin. You knew in that moment that you weren’t the only one feeling things.

Her hands found your waist, pinning you against the wall harder, and you moaned against her.

“You like that?” she said way too cockily, the words from her mouth managing to irritate you even when you were just enjoying that same mouth so much.

You flipped your positions, pinning her against the wall and she raised an eyebrow at you. “I like this,” you replied, kissing her again.

You let your hands wander, running up and down her sides, teasing her but not quite going anywhere in particular.

When you squeezed, she moaned into your mouth and you felt a pang of arousal at the sound. You wanted to pull more sounds like that out of her and began slowly untucking her shirt. You slid your hands underneath the fabric, feeling her soft skin beneath your fingers.

“Mmm, stop teasing,” she mumbled in between kisses, giving you permission to touch her more.

Your hands went further up her shirt, palming her breasts over her bra before sliding under. You brushed against her nipples with your thumbs and she moaned again, breaking the kiss.

You didn’t hesitate to trail kisses down her neck, then back up towards her ear, making her whimper as your hands continued to stimulate her sensitive nipples.

You were dragging it out - you wanted to take things slow in case she wanted to stop and you also wanted to tease her as much as possible, almost like you were making her pay for how she always treated you.

You continued your assault on her neck, kissing and sucking every inch of skin you could get your lips on, while she panted against you.

The beautiful sounds leaving her were only turning you on even more and you were slowly realizing that you’d wanted to do this for a while.

“Y/N,” Wanda panted out.

“Yeah?”

“Stop fucking teasing,” she demanded.

“What do you want?” you asked, running your thumbs over her nipples again to get a reaction.

She gasped, grabbing your throat with her hand. “Fuck me,” she said sternly, and how could you say no to her?

“Fuck,” you breathed out, kissing her again and removing your hands from her shirt.

You placed one of your hands on her thigh under her skirt, running it up her skin until you reached her underwear. Your fingers reached her panties, feeling a wet spot on the front of them. You moaned, your arousal skyrocketing at the thought that she was so wet for you.

“Yeah?” she said, teasing you. “Why don’t you stop feeling me up over my panties and fuck me, hm?”

You nodded and pushed her panties aside, feeling her wetness directly against your fingers. The fact that she was so turned on only served to turn you on even more. She wanted this just as much as you did.

Your index finger moved up to rub her clit, making her moan louder this time and if anyone was still in the building, they would’ve heard her.

“You like that?” You mirrored her words from earlier.

She managed to roll her eyes despite the pleasure she was feeling and leaned in to kiss you again, moaning into the kiss when you rubbed faster against her clit.

“Fuck me,” she whispered against your lips. Denying her felt like denying yourself at this point. You slid a finger into her opening, then followed up with a second finger, stretching her out.

She moaned and it was heavenly, making you want to hear her come undone for you. You started a rhythm inside her, fucking into her with purpose. The sounds leaving her lips made you throb with desire, she sounded so beautiful in the throes of pleasure.

You could hear how wet she was, sloshing sounds coming from where your fingers went to work, and it drove you crazy.

“Fuck, I can hear how wet you are,” you said, kissing down her neck again.

“You feel so good,” she panted out, moaning again as you hit a spot inside of her.

The sounds of her pussy were getting to you and you wanted to taste her so badly; you weren’t sure if you wanted her to cum like this first or if you needed your mouth on her before anything else.

“Can I taste you?” you asked, slowing your movements to both prolong her pleasure and delay her orgasm, as well as to give her a second to answer you.

“Fuck, yes,” she said, bucking her hips into your hand for more. “Wanna see you on your knees for me, detka.”

You couldn’t say no to her even if you tried, not when you wanted the same thing so desperately. You dropped to your knees, pulling her skirt up to reveal her pussy, underwear clinging to her folds and the stickiness between her thighs.

You practically drooled at the sight, pushing her panties further to the side to get a better view. You leaned in, kissing her pussy at first, then flicked your tongue against her clit, making her gasp. Her taste was heavenly and you wanted more, your tongue now exploring her eagerly.

“You taste so good, mommy,” you managed to mumble against her, the vibrations of your voice making her hips jerk against your face, which only made you more aroused. When you realized what you said, you almost stopped what you were doing. But a few simple words helped you to not falter too much.

“Call me that again,” Wanda moaned, hips bucking against you as if she was trying to get herself off on your mouth.

“Mommy,” you obeyed, unable to deny her at this point, and equally turned on by the name.

“Fuck. Such a good girl for mommy,” she breathed out, rutting her hips with purpose and grinding her clit against your tongue.

You moaned into her pussy at the praise, licking and sucking at her clit, letting your tongue dip inside her hole with every downstroke.

“Ohh, does my baby have a praise kink?” she cooed, somehow managing to make you flustered and embarrassed while you were bringing her to orgasm.

When you didn’t respond, too enamored with eating her out, she grabbed your chin harshly and made you face her.

“Answer mommy when she asks you a question,” she commanded, keeping you just inches from where you wanted to taste her again.

“Yes,” you whined, breathing heavily with how aroused you were.

“Yes what?”

“Yes mommy,” you said, looking up at her with lust in your eyes.

“Good girl,” she praised, redirecting you back to her dripping cunt, keeping her hand at the back of your head to guide your movements.

She moaned when you made contact again, your lips wrapping around her clit, sucking obediently. You wanted her to cum for you. You wanted to bring her pleasure, to get off on her sounds and her taste, but at the same time, part of you also wanted to assert some kind of dominance over her. She’d bullied you relentlessly since you started working for the same company as her and this was your way of taking back control.

She may have been in charge, with her hand at the back of your head, keeping you close so she could fuck your face the way she wanted to, but you had the power to tip her over the edge she so desperately wanted to reach.

And it was intoxicating.

But then again, everything about Wanda Maximoff was intoxicating. Her beautiful face, her hypnotizing voice, her sense of style, the sway of her hips when she walked, the quickness of her comebacks, and in the current moment, her scent, her taste, her moans, her movements against you. You had never wanted someone so badly in your life and you had her right where you wanted her.

“Fuck baby, I’m gonna cum,” Wanda said, her grip tightening on your hair. Her clit throbbed under your tongue, her hole clenching around nothing as you brought her closer and closer to the edge.

You doubled down on your efforts, wanting to see her fall apart for you. Your index finger teased her folds, dipping into her hole as you sucked on her clit. When you pushed two fingers into her while continuing your stimulation on her hardened bud, she came, moaning your name so prettily as her cum coated your fingers and chin.

You lapped up as much as you could before she began to push you away and pull you back up. She kissed you, tasting herself on your tongue, a deep sound from the back of her throat emerging at the sensation.

“Maybe you can be a good girl after all, hm?” She mused, looking at you lazily as she pulled away from the kiss.

Her hand came down, reaching into your pants and then your panties to feel where you were turned on beyond belief.

“When have I not been one?” you questioned.

“Maybe when you’re talking back to me,” she said, biting her lip.

“I can think of something better I could be doing with my mouth,” you shot back.

Wanda moved her hand so she could really feel you against her, running her fingers up and down your slit.

“God, you’re so wet for me,” Wanda said. “Did I do that?” She asked, continuing to touch you.

You nodded, somewhat distracted as you admired the way she looked in her post-orgasm haze. You wanted her again - one time wasn’t enough.

“Can you go again?” you blurted out, staring at her with such want it almost surprised her. “Please,” you begged, stroking her cheek with your thumb as you looked into her eyes.

“What about you?” She asked.

“Just wanna make you cum again mommy,” you responded, practically pleading.

She couldn’t say no to you at that moment, and she didn’t want to either. “Okay detka, go ahead, make mommy feel good,” she said, her teeth coming down onto her lip as you descended once more.

Sliding her panties off, you brought your mouth down to where she was dripping and slid your tongue as deep as it would go, your thumb coming up to rub circles into her clit.

“Yes, that’s so good,” Wanda cried out, bucking her hips as you fucked into her with your tongue. “Fuck, eat my pussy just like that,” she said, making you moan against her.

After a few moments, she came again, and you licked at her folds until she rode out the aftershocks, twitching against your face. You couldn’t get enough, mouthing at her pussy for as long as you could before she brought you back up once more, staring at you so intimately it made you nervous despite the fact that you’d just done extremely unprofessional things to her in the conference room.

“So, a praise kink and a mommy kink, huh?” She chuckled, raising an eyebrow and smirking.

“Shut up.” You blushed, trying to hide your face in her neck out of embarrassment.

“Make me,” she said, using your own words from earlier against you.

You kissed her to shut her up, and also because you just wanted to. She could taste herself on your lips and on your tongue and it almost made her want to go again. The two of you stayed like that, lips glued to each other, for a long moment before separating, out of breath.

“So was this pretend too or?” You half joked, knowing it wasn’t but also unsure if she would ice you out again after this.

“No,” she started. “This did mean something, despite what I said earlier. I don’t sleep around just to sleep around,” she said earnestly. “I want you.”

You were somewhat surprised she didn’t come back with some snarky remark or crude joke, but you weren’t going to complain when the woman you wanted more than anything was confessing that she felt the same way.

“I want you too,” you uttered, looking down at her lips subconsciously.

“I kinda figured that out when you were getting on your knees for me, sweetheart,” she responded.

“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes, leaning in to kiss her again.

When the two of you broke apart, you spoke again. “So what now?”

“What do you mean?”

“We still have to pretend to date. Can we do that?” you asked.

“We could pretend,” she started. “Or we could just do it.”

“What, date?”

“Yeah, why not?” she questioned, seeming slightly nervous as she proposed the idea.

“I thought you hated me,” you whispered, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. “All this time…”

“I don’t hate you,” Wanda cut in. “I don’t know, it’s complicated.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“I guess I just saw myself in you. Someone determined, ambitious, competitive, like a younger version of me. So of course, you were my competition. And I also saw something I wanted but couldn’t have, or so I thought. I never thought you’d want me too. I don’t know, I can’t justify how I treated you, I’m sorry.”

You paused, taking a moment to think everything over before speaking again.

“Look, I don’t know what I want out of this, but I’m willing to see where it goes,” you finally said, hoping she was on the same page.

“I’m okay with that.” She smiled, perhaps out of relief, and brushed some hair out of your face. “Let’s fake it till we make it, yeah?” She joked, making you smile back at her.

“Works for me,” you said, looking at her with an unreadable expression, one which you might later realize was pure devotion. Despite everything you’d been through with her, you were falling fast and there was no way to stop it.

The following week was something of a dream come true. You and Wanda worked together, but this time the only tension present was sexual. You acted like a couple and you didn’t even have to try anymore, it just came naturally.

Wanda’s teasing touches increased tenfold, with her constantly trying to turn you on in the most inappropriate of places, whether it was in Stark’s office with her hand tracing patterns on the small of your back or in the conference room with dirty words whispered in your ear and while everyone was still in the building.

The two of you stayed late a few nights to finish up paperwork, finding that it was hard to get any work done when you were left alone with each other.

You’d made Wanda cum against the conference table more than once and she’d even come home with you one night to continue your activities. You fucked her with your fingers against your front door and again in your bed with your strap, making her see stars every time you had your way with her. It was very quickly becoming one of your favorite ways to relieve stress, especially with the merger increasing your workload.

Mr. Stark was pleased with your “performance,” pulling you aside to tell you that Osborn absolutely adored the two of you and your relationship. You figured once there was a label on things, you’d break it to him that you were actually together now.

You and Wanda had not only been having regular sex, but had been talking about deeper things with each other, including your own history. She opened up about her insecurities and you did the same, kissing each other softly after and then snuggling up to watch a movie.

Wanda stayed over some nights and the following mornings you’d walk to work together, stopping at your favorite coffee shop for a warm drink on the way.

The two dates a week had originally felt like a burden, but now you were grateful for the chance to take your favorite girl on a date twice a week, all expenses paid by the boss. You didn’t care that Osborn employees might be lurking around, you touched Wanda when you wanted to and it had nothing to do with appearances.

Months passed, and the merger was finally coming to a close. Half of Stark Industries’ client base had become regular customers of the Osborn group, and Stark now owned a percentage of Osborn’s company.

You and Wanda maintained your higher positions, still working directly under Stark with a nice pay raise.

You’d asked Wanda to be your official girlfriend a few weeks after your first time sleeping together and she moved in with you two months later.

Stark was surprised to find out the two of you were no longer faking it, but he was happy for you and started calling himself the millionaire matchmaker.

Sometimes the two of you still fought, your snarky and sarcastic personalities unable to be pushed down so easily, but it usually ended with Wanda bent over a surface of the apartment or workplace after hours, with your fingers or your tongue inside her pussy.

If you really pushed her buttons, it ended with your hands tied to the headboard while Wanda touched herself above you and mocked your desperation to be the one giving her pleasure; “bad girls don’t get to touch mommy, so just sit there and look pretty for me,” she would say.

The teasing and the jokes were a huge foundation for your relationship so long as they weren’t taken too far, and you found that you loved that part of her despite how it used to be used against you.

Wanda could be incredibly sweet though and you loved that about her too. She knew when to pick playful fights with you and when to be softer; she knew how to act when you needed reassurance from her and she knew how to make you feel safe.

At the end of the day, you fell hard for the one person you never should’ve fallen for, and you wouldn’t change a thing.

[hyunjincanraptoo]

Girl I love your writing so muchhhh 😭 I will immediately jump in on your special, and I'd love to request number ✨20✨! have a nice day 🖤

Hi, baby! Thank you so much for all your love and support 💜 Sorry it took so long for posting it... Have a nice day too :)

20. You run into him touching himself

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: smut

Alexa, play Resist (Not Gonna Run Away) by TOMORROW X TOGETHER

You hadn’t meant to barge in. The door had been slightly opened, music spilling softly into the hallway— something unmistakably Han’s taste. You figured he’d left it open on purpose, the way he always did when he wanted company but didn’t know how to ask for it.

“Han?”, your voice was gentle, cautious as you nudged the door open.

And then you stopped in your tracks.

There he was— sprawled across the bed, one arm over his eyes, the other buried beneath the waistband of his sweatpants. His hips lifted ever so slightly, chasing a rhythm slow and aching. His lips were parted, breaths shaky, chest rising and falling in sync with the movement of his hand.

He didn’t hear you right away. Didn’t see the way your hand hovered unsure on the doorknob, didn’t feel the jolt that went through you at the sound of your name falling repeatedly from his mouth.

You should’ve backed away, closed the door and pretended you saw nothing.

But something in you wanted to stay. Stunning, maybe. Or something more.

Then his eyes snapped open.

Panic was the first thing that crossed his face. His hand faltered, his mouth opened like he meant to explain or apologize— but no words came out.

You swallowed hard

“I- I didn’t know you were…”, you trailed off, gaze flickering down, heat creeping up your neck.

Han sat up slowly, dragging the blanket over his lap. He looked wrecked— cheeks pink, hair tousled, eyes wide and afraid. But he didn’t look away.

“I was thinking about you”, he said out of the blue, “And I don’t know why I just said that”

You blinked.

“Oh”

And suddenly, the silence between you wasn’t awkward. It was heavy, charged, full of something that had always been there, just never said aloud.

You stepped inside and shut the door behind you.

You blinked. Once, then twice.

Then finally you spun around, covering your face with both hands like that could somehow erase what you'd just seen.

“Oh my God! I didn’t mean… I thought you wanted company! The door was open… you always do that when you’re lonely, and I- I wasn’t trying to…”

You heard the sound of him choking on his own spit, “Lonely?! I was literally jerking off… how is that an open invitation for company?!”

“I don’t know, Han! I THOUGHT YOU WERE SAD!”

He started laughing— loud, breathless, still slightly panting.

“Yeah, okay, I was sad. That’s why I was jerking off! I was trying to cope!”

Your palms slid down your face slowly.

There was a moment of silence, just your breath and his and the rustle of his sheets as he shifted.

“You know what? You can go”, he said softly after a moment. And his voice was weirdly sincere, quite raw, “I mean, you have nothing to do with that, so…”

You didn’t move. You hated that your heart ached at his tone— not the flirty Han or the teasing one, but the one he used when he thought he messed everything up.

You turned around.

He was sitting up now, still under the blanket, neck red up to his ears. But his eyes were still on you

“I don’t want to go”, you admitted.

His eyebrows arched, “You don’t?!”

You shook your head, “I should. I probably will. In like… five minutes. Maybe ten. After I stop seeing your…”

You gestured toward the blanket, “... entire existence burned into my retinas”

Han groaned and dropped his face into his hands, “Please stop saying things like that while my dick is still half hard”

You laughed.

He peeked through his fingers, “You’re laughing?!”

“I’m panicking!”

“Yeah, well…”, he rubbed the back of his neck, “If you’re still here after all that, maybe you, hum… wanna help me finish?”

Your jaw dropped, “Han!”

He held his hands up, eyes wide, “Hey! I’m just saying! You already saw it! And I already said your name while I was doing it. I feel like we crossed a threshold here!”

“You are the worst”, you said, stepping toward the bed

“But also charming?”, he tried, hopeful, “A little bit hot?”

You rolled your eyes and climbed onto the mattress, grabbing the blanket and tossing it aside, “You are ridiculously hot and I hate it”

Han grinned, looking a little dazed as you hovered above him, “Wow. Never thought humiliation could feel this good”

You leaned in close, breath ghosting over his cheek.

“Shut up”, you said as your hand slipped under the waistband of his sweats, fingers curling around him.

He let out a choked sound, somewhere between a gasp and a groan, and flopped dramatically back against the pillows.

“Oh my god, Yn”, he whined, “Marry me”

You chuckled, “You should finish first”

Your fingers moved slowly at first and Han's breath stuttered immediately, hips twitching up like his body was chasing your pace before his brain could even catch up.

"Okay, wow”, he gasped, fisting the sheets, "You… you do things like that? Is this, like, a thing you know how to do?"

You gave him a crooked smile, leaning in close enough that your nose brushed his jaw.

“I’ve got a few talents”, you murmured, “You just caught me off guard earlier with the whole… moaning my name while alone in your bedroom thing”

He let out a strangled laugh, “Yeah, well, you try having a crush this intense without losing your mind. It’s impossible. You're in my brain like a looped tiktok video”

You squeezed just a little tighter and his sentence cut off with a sharp inhale.

“Fuck, okay. Yeah. You… I’ll shut up now.”

Your hand kept moving, sliding and twisting just enough to keep him right on the edge of control. He looked beautiful like that— cheeks flushed, hair messy, jaw tensed as his head tilted back, exposing the long line of his neck.

His sweatpants were shoved down just enough for you to work, his stomach tensing with every stroke, every twist of your wrist.

“Shit, shit, honey…”, he whined, eyes snapping open, glassy and full of lust, “You’re so good at this. I’m gonna… Fuck, I can’t…”

“Then stop trying”, you said, hot against his ear, “Come for me, Sungie”

That broke him.

He swore low like a whisper as his whole body jolted as he spilled over your hand, hips bucking into your grip, thighs trembling. His hand flew up to grab your wrist —but not to stop you, just to ground himself— fingers digging in as if he’d fall apart otherwise.

He was panting, blinking up at you like you’d just knocked the air out of him.

“Holy moly”, he said after a moment, “You’re gonna have to marry me now. I wasn’t kidding”

You laughed, wiping your hand on the corner of the sheet, “We’re not even dating, Han”

“Well, that’s just a formality”, he said weakly, “You just gave me the kind of orgasm that rewires a man’s soul. I’m legally yours now”

You rolled your eyes and dropped a kiss on his cheek “You’re ridiculous”

He turned his head, catching your mouth instead, and kissed you— messy, smiling, like he had just won the lottery.

“I’m ridiculous for you”, he said, still breathless, “And very very naked under this blanket. Just so we’re clear”

You raised a brow, “So... round two?”

Han smirked, mischievously, “See? I knew you wouldn’t resist”

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[lily-claw]

First of all, im sorry if you took it as something rude because just because i mainly ship bkdk doesnt mean i dont like izuocha and i believe izuocha deserved better than this.

You actually said it on your own, Ochako had/has feelings for him and she deserves to be someone she likes. Yes, i agree but not in a rushed way, trying to make them look better in a chapter looked bad and she deserved better than that.

We can comment on an art as long as we do not act rude so i find it funny🤡 I think the way you say "THIS MEANS NOTHING" is way much more rude and its not only to other shippers but also for the artist bc wdym by"this means nothing?"

I think its like bnha's last chapters in a nutshell thingy but in one art lmao

Did you see Ochako's page in final fan book? We didn't see anything new about her program. The way horikoshi made it look lile her program isnt even close to bakugo and todoroki's remedial class is even worse. The only thing we saw was her trying to help a child to use his beaming(?) quirk to shot Lemillion' s butt💀💀 I've never said "i want her to be a lesbian for her dead lover so she can be happy" just how are you reading my comments? 😭😭

Also how does she not daydreaming about toga? We saw her seeing toga in her dreams, we saw her talking about toga with tsuyu, we saw her seeing toga giving a push to her when she was with izuku. Do you really mean that those were nothing or that was real? 🤔

And you know what, im gonna add toga deserved better tag there too since hori actually thought about letting her being alive. She deserved better too. She just died bc it was a way for her to take punishment. I dont understand how this would make anything better.

And also where do you know that bakugo never wanted to be with him? Or Izuku also has feelings for Ochako? Did horikoshi told you? Bc i remember him saying "imagine it" (sorry izuocha shippers deserved vetter too, he lowkey roasted you💀

Bakugo literally said "for the rest of our lives" thingy, and just after deku starting to be back in top numbers he got in top 5🤡🤡 even if he doesnt love him like you think, i dont think that he hates him bud🫠

I think Bakugo deserved better bc he looked so depressed in chapter 431. He was number 4 but just because his loud mouth, he became number 15. Then how the heck Endeavor stayed as number 2?? What actually changed in the system? Was he actually acting out of his place so he become number 15?? (and the way he become number 5 was also a lil bit weird lol did he just shut his mouth so he'd be more close to deku?? It doesn't feel good enough.)

Also weve never seen them having therapy ofc they deserved better than this ayo they all need therapy before anything 😭😭 according to psychology, the grieving process is an average of one year under normal circumstances so-🥴🥴

I really wanna know why you needed to say to me stop being delusional bc i genuinely thought that picture is funny

Also anyone can ship whatever they want as long as it doesnt harm anyone. We can joke about the ship situation as long as we dont actually try to hurt each other in any way. It really is not that much of a serious thing, you know? 🫠🫠

I dont think that i was trying to belittle izuocha, if you understood it that way im sorry that i hurt your feelings but the way you write this post doesnt look kind either. I hope you can write something like this in a more kind way if you are gonna write again because you dont look like you have any respect to me either.

I will also take out izuocha tag out from there if any izuocha shippers can give me an actual and kind comment about how it disrespects the ship.

The fact that noguchi cencored this bc he thought its sensitive... Guys, I think he is trying to cope while being known as Horikoshi's assistant.

It looks like that meme where deku asks "does your gf has to be here?" and uraraka responds as "does yours?" lmao I can't take this seriously...

[orellazalonia]

The Way He Notices

Summary: As the teammate with invisibility, your powers often result in you disappearing from the Compound when the day becomes too much. However, you’re always seen by one person who has started to sit in silence with you, offering occasional comments and comfort. (Bucky Barnes x invisible!reader)

Disclaimer: Angst (sort of). Hurt/Comfort. Reader has the power of invisibility.

Word Count: 1.3k+

A/N: I had fully intended to just make this a blurb. I like imagining the reader with different powers, but this went over the 500 words I had initially planned lol

Main Masterlist

The compound was too loud.

Even if no one was yelling, even if no one was fighting, your skin buzzed with the memory of raised voices, flashing lights, hands that weren’t kind. Your breathing had gone shallow the moment the door shut behind you. Your hands trembled. Your pulse raced. Your instincts screamed.

So you disappeared. Literally. One blink, one breath, and maybe the world would forget you were there. Invisibility was your gift. When activated, everything fades. Body, clothes, scent; not even heat sensors can detect you. It remains a power you hold to help people from the shadows. Both your shield and your curse.

And right now, you use it to curl up into the corner of your room, legs pulled tight to your chest. Your breathing was quiet now, nearly silent. You liked it that way. Invisible and silent, unnoticed to the world.

But Bucky noticed. He always did. You never told anyone about what it really meant, to vanish. Not in words. Not out loud. But Bucky figured it out anyway.

He paid attention in a way most people didn’t. Not the loud kind, not the prying kind. Just quiet observation, patterns, and pauses. He noticed the things others dismissed: the way your fingers twitched when a voice got too sharp. The way your leg bounces nervously when the room turns tense. The way your eyes never quite met anyone’s after a hard mission.

And most of all, he noticed when you were suddenly gone.

Not physically. Not entirely. Just… hushed. Faded. The kind of gone where your seat at the table was still warm, your plate barely touched. The kind of gone where you stopped making eye contact, stopped breathing deep, stopped existing in the room even if you were still in it. The kind where your powers were not needed at all to remove your presence from a space.

Then overtime, he learned the different ways you could vanish. And unlike others, he didn’t joke about it. Didn’t push or pull or guilt you back. He just waited. A silent and steady presence to turn to.

The first time it happened, he stood in your doorway for ten full minutes, speaking to the air. Not because he thought it would fix anything. But because he knew what it meant to be terrified, voiceless, and unseen, yet still wanting someone to come find you anyway.

After that, it became a kind of rhythm between you. A quiet understanding. Then, the similarities began to show themselves. You weren’t touchy, and neither was he. Your voice was soft, never one to stand out in a room full of people. He was quiet, selective who he spoke to as he watched more than he engaged. You didn't open up easily. But you know he also struggled to do so as well. And when the world pressed too close and you disappeared into silence, he was the only one who could sit with it without trying to fix you.

It wasn’t romantic, not in the beginning. But it was intimate.

In the moments you let yourself be visible, Bucky saw you in ways no one else did. The slight tilt of your lips when you made a dry joke. The way you tilted your head when you were curious, and the way you flinched when someone raised their voice, even if it wasn’t at you. He never made it a big deal. Never made you feel small, insecure, or unworthy. Not even when you couldn’t quite express how you felt and never for existing.

He just noticed. And remembered.

So when your door clicked shut, and you didn’t speak, didn’t eat, didn’t check in? He knew. Because this man had memorized both your presence and absence like a shadow. It was what led him behind your door now, knocking three times. Three simple, soft taps. The kind that asked for permission, not attention.

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

“Doll?” His voice was soft, the edge of gravel worn down into silk. “I know you’re in here.”

Still, you stayed quiet. Hidden. Gone.

The door creaked open. He didn’t turn the lights on. He didn’t need them to know you were there. Sometimes you cursed his super soldier hearing.

“I saw you leave the training room without speaking to anyone. That’s not like you.”

There was no accusation in his voice. Just concern. Measured, careful concern. He stepped in further, and you saw the glint of metal catch the moonlight through your window.

“I know what it’s like,” He said after a long pause. “To want the whole world to stop seeing you. To disappear because it’s safer that way.”

You turned your head slightly, though you weren’t sure why. He still couldn’t see you. No one could.

“I used to hide,” He continued. “Behind orders. Behind missions. Behind… the Soldier.”

The reference hit the air with a dull ache. He sat down on the floor, not too close, but close enough.

“I’m not sure what happened. Maybe I never will. But I know you don’t have to be alone.”

You heard a quiet rustle before spotting his hand reaching out, palm up, resting between you both.

“I won’t touch you. I won’t even look, unless you want me to. Just know I’ll be here.”

Your breath hitched. Not because of the panic, but because of him. He stayed yet again. You still can’t get used to it, like somehow you’ve convinced yourself you’re not worth it.

But minutes passed, maybe an hour or more. Who knows. Bucky had learned the hard way how to sit with silence. How to let it breathe instead of trying to fill it. How sometimes just being there meant more than any words.

But slowly, carefully, you let the invisibility fade. Like dust in sunlight. Your fingers, trembling and pale, reached out and barely brushed his.

His hand didn’t move. Instead, you heard his voice, gentle and soft.

“There you are,” Bucky whispered, a ghost of a smile upon his face.

Something in his chest loosened. Not relief exactly, but… a sense of trust. Pride almost. You trusted him enough to come back, to be seen.

Because for the first time all day, you weren’t afraid. You weren’t alone nor unseen. He had stayed there, grounding you.

Your voice didn’t answer him, not out loud. You didn’t need to. Instead, you leaned just a little closer, the barest shift of weight, but he felt it. You were still trembling, but you weren’t hiding. Not from him.

He turned his palm so his fingers could wrap lightly around yours. Not tight. Just enough to remind you he was there.

“I know the world feels like too much sometimes,” He began quietly. “I don’t blame you for disappearing. I used to want to do it all the time. Hell, I did.”

He gave a short, hollow laugh; no humor, just memory.

“When I first came here, I kept thinking: If I can just vanish, if I can just keep still enough, no one will look at me like I’m broken. Like I’m dangerous. Like I’m one bad memory away from snapping.”

You shifted. Still silent, but listening. He could feel it.

“I saw that same look in your eyes today. Like you were made of glass and someone was swinging a hammer.”

The grip of your hand tightened slightly.

“You don’t have to tell me what happened. Not now. Not ever, if you don’t want. But if you need someone who gets it, you know I’m here.”

He tilted his head toward you, careful to keep his movements soft.

“No pressure,” He said quickly, a beat of hesitation filling the space before he added. “Just… if you ever wanna disappear, let me be the one who waits with you in the silence.”

A pause. Then, barely above a whisper:

“Okay.” You nodded. It was tiny, fragile; but Bucky felt it like a damn earthquake.

You didn’t let go of his hand, and he didn’t move an inch.

He doesn’t try to fix you. He just stays. Listens. Waits. And somehow, in a world that seems to forget you're there the moment you vanish, you're still seen. Completely, quietly, without question, because of the way he notices.

[pagesfromthevoid]

I literally can't stop thinking about Thunderbolts and how emotional it is. I desperately want to eat snacks with Bob in his reading nook

OKAY BUT SAME. I have a book nook and I just KNOW that man is so content in his corner because it’s my favorite spot too. With one of those big comfy chaise chairs?? Hear me out….

For the first few months after the Incident™️ (as the Thunderbolts group chat has deemed it), Bob isn’t very social. He feels bad, and he’s waiting for any and all of this…niceness to go away.

It always does.

The one thing he finds solace in is this little corner by the window that he’s deemed his. At first, it’s just a pillow and some throw blankets he piles up and sits in because that’s all he really has. But then, a chaise chair shows up one day. Nothing fancy, but big enough for at least three people for some reason.

He tests the waters because he was really content with his little blanket corner. But the chair is really nice, and it’s so comfortable. And it’s nice to have because he sleeps better when he’s around the others so he naps whenever they’re around in the corner.

Then a bookshelf shows up. Not a big one. Just one of those Billy bookcases from IKEA. But it’s sitting there, with the stack of books he had collected set up neatly on it. There’s empty space for him to add more. It’s hard to focus on books for long periods of time but that’s okay, because now he can just…set them on the shelf.

More books show up slowly over time. Little sticky notes from the team on the covers, telling him they thought he’d like them (he uses them as bookmarks).

You leave him a book one day. Bright pink sticky note on the inside cover that says:

Thought of you when I saw the cover. I hope you like it. Let me know —I’m reading it too.

He has to out the note in the back because he gets distracted, reading it over and over instead of the actual book.

He’s about halfway through the book a month later, still trying to focus on it, when he finally feels like he can kind of talk about the book without sounding stupid.

He waits for you to walk by before he says anything.

“Hey, I’m —I’m almost done with that book,” he says, holding it up.

He swears to god that his heart melts when your entire mood shifts. You’re excited, and your smile is contagious and god, he made you smile like that? Can he keep doing that?

“I haven’t had a chance to read it in a week or so,” you explain, but you hold up a finger. “Give me a sec, I’ll be right back.”

And you are right back. Book in hand and a bag of chips. And you don’t even hesitate to take up the empty space next to him, opening to the last page you left on. Bob almost cries when he sees he’s only a chapter behind you.

“Catch up, and we can talk about it.” You offer, settling into the chaise —though you’re careful not to touch him. He appreciates that you don’t mind he’s a little alarmed by touch but he’s too happy to care. He settles in close to you, shoulder brushing yours gently.

The two of you are too absorbed in your book to notice that members of the team keep dropping things off on the shelf.

Yelena brings a bag of M&Ms. Ava two cups of tea. Bucky doesn’t leave anything, but he watches with a soft grin. They ban Alexei from bugging you two, but he leaves a pizza for actual dinner. And John is about to leave condoms —mostly as a joke —but Bucky smacks him upside the head. Then the arguing starts.

That’s what brings you two to attention for the first time in a few hours.

Bob wouldn’t trade it for the world though.

[tearvls]

Heyy!

Sinister Mark x Reader

I was thinking of a fic like:

Inspired by Lady Gaga's song "Monster" Reader aint just no normal human tho, she actually has powers. Like she could be just as strong as mark, and even have insane healing/regenerating powers (That is, If you do the "He ate my heart" part literally)

I need MC to actually dare, not be like "oww, why did you bite me🥺" Like i need her to deal with his ahh if he starts being a lil too crazy.

(I know Sinister Mark only actually started fully eating flesh after he was stranded)

"Good boy"

Pairing: Sinister Mark x F! Viltrumite! Reader

Synopsis: Mark came back from the wasteland starving—for blood, for flesh, for you. When he finally loses control and bites you, you don’t run. You bite back.

Content tags: Suggestive SFW, blood, violence, power struggle, biting, cannibalistic themes, Reader is dominant.

Mark had come back from the wasteland a different man. The days he'd spent there—alone, starved, soaked in blood and sand—had peeled layers off his sanity like raw skin under claws. And though he was home now, safe, it still clung to him. That feral edge. The hunger. At first, you thought That being around you again—your touch, your strength, your voice—might ground him. But you weren't naive. He had changed. And that change followed him into every corner of your shared life like a shadow made of teeth.

The first time you noticed it was subtle. You’d just finished crushing a minor resistance cell with him—routine business, barely a challenge. The two of you had moved like predators through meat: fluid, efficient, merciless. But when it was over, and you were standing there dripping in the blood of the last rebel, you caught his eyes on you.

Not your face. Not your body. Your neck. Your pulse.

His pupils were blown wide, breath coming in short bursts like he was struggling to breathe through the heat of it. You saw the way his nostrils flared, the way his tongue wet his lips—hungry. Not for victory. Not for you in any traditional sense. He was thirsty.

“Mark,” you said coolly, blood trickling down your cheek as you tilted your head at him. “You good?”

He nodded too fast. “Yeah. Just... the fight.” A pause. “You smell like blood."

You raised a brow but said nothing. You let it go. Just once.

But it didn’t stop.

The days passed, and you felt it stalking closer with every moment he spent in your orbit. His eyes lingered longer. His hands trembled when they touched you. His breathing grew shallow when you were injured—even if just scraped. It wasn’t concern. You knew what it was. His instincts were winning, unraveling the self-control he’d been clinging to like a threadbare cloak.

Then came the night he snapped.

You’d been standing in the living room of your shared space, cleaning the blood from your hands after a sparring session, when Mark appeared behind you. You hadn’t heard him approach, but you felt the presence of his body, the heat radiating off him like a furnace. His hands landed on your shoulders, his fingers gripping tight.

You tensed, but only slightly. You could feel the tension in his touch, the barely-contained need.

His breath tickled your ear as he leaned down to whisper, his voice hushed, rough. “You smell like blood... like you always do after a fight.”

You didn’t answer right away. You simply turned your head, meeting his eyes. And that’s when you saw it—the flash of something dark behind them. Something dangerous. Something hungry.

His hands brushed your hair off to the side before his lips brushed the back of your neck, a soft kiss that turned into a sharp nip, his teeth grazing your skin, testing the waters.

And then, without warning, he sank his fangs into your shoulder.

The sharp pain exploded through you, but it wasn’t just the bite—it was the need behind it. You could feel the heat of his hunger flooding your skin, could feel him drinking your blood like it was the only thing that could sate him. His grip tightened on you, pulling you closer as he fed.

For a moment, you felt a surge of anger, of frustration. The thought of him losing control, of him thinking he could just take what he wanted from you, ignited something deep inside you.

You snapped. Your elbow drove into his ribs, hard enough to crack bone, and you wrenched yourself away from him. Blood trickled down your neck, and you hissed through the pain. “What the hell, Mark?!”

He pulled back, licking the blood from his lips, his eyes flashing with something primal—something that was more beast than man. His voice was thick, breathless. “I couldn’t help it. I’ve been fighting it for so long. The hunger... it’s too much.”

You wiped the blood from your skin, glaring at him. “You don’t just get to bite me, Mark. You want it? You’re going to have to earn it.”

A dark, feral grin spread across his face as he slowly stood, cracking his neck. “Earn it, huh? You think I can’t handle you?”

“I don’t care how strong you are, I'm not a weak stupid human girl,” you replied, your voice dripping with challenge. “You want a bite of me? Prove you can control yourself. Prove you deserve it.”

His eyes flashed, and without another word, he lunged.

--

The fight was like nothing you’d ever experienced with him before. It wasn’t just a spar—it was primal, savage. You threw yourself into it with everything you had, your fists crashing against his chest, your feet landing solid blows that sent him flying through walls. He tore through the ground beneath you, his hands ripping into your flesh as though he were trying to tear the hunger from your very soul.

You were both covered in blood—yours, his, the residue of every brutal punch. His body slammed against yours again and again, desperate, hungry. He wasn’t just fighting you anymore. He was fighting himself. The monster within him that was clawing to get out.

You slammed your fist into his jaw, and he returned with a brutal bite to your side, his fangs sinking deep. You snarled, retaliating with a sharp clawed scratch across his face. But it wasn’t enough. He was stronger. He was hungrier. You could see it in his eyes—this deep, unfathomable hunger.

He tore your shirt, exposed your shoulder and bra. His eyes locked where the last bite had left a mark, and he kissed it—slow, deliberate—before sinking his teeth in again.

Your body jolted, pain and pleasure blurring together in a twisted tangle. You groaned, but you didn’t push him away. You felt the weight of his desperation, his need, and it only fueled your desire to test him further.

With a growl, you shoved him off, sending him crashing to the floor. You straddled him, pinning him down. His chest heaved under you, sweat and blood mixing on your skin. You placed your hand around his throat, just enough to remind him who was in control.

“You want it, Mark?” you purred, your fingers tightening. “Then earn it.”

His eyes glazed over, pupils black with desire. He nodded, breath ragged. And with that, you took your blood-slicked hand and pressed it to his lips.

“Bite,” you demanded.

And he did.

His teeth sank into your palm, drinking greedily, like it was the only thing that could save him. You watched as he drank, his face twisting in both pleasure and frustration. He wasn’t just taking your blood—he was losing himself in it.

When he finally pulled away, his lips painted with your blood, you leaned down, your voice low and pleased.

“Good boy.”

[killmeleatherface]

It Had To Be You

Part 2

AN: this is a part 2 to my ongoing series about Dr Robby on The Pitt. I am very new to Tumblr and formatting so pls forgive any formatting mistakes. I’m just having fun being creative and I hope you enjoy :)

TW: kissing, petting, age gap relationship. No smut in this one :) cursing, medical setting.

Summary: You and Dr Michael Robinavitch started as friends, attendings exchanging information. Until he asked if tou wanted to go to a diner to talk about an especially hard shift. The rest was history. That was years ago and your forbidden fling became an actual relationship, boyfriend and girlfriend. And then the love of your life proposes. Life couldn’t be better, until it comes crashing down. You catch the person you couldn’t be more in love kissing his ex girlfriend in a trauma room when they obviously thought no one was looking. You instantly react with fight of flight instinct and flee home, using all your vacation and sick time. You escape, leaving behind no call or text for your fiance and get the first flight out of there. Now you’re back. And life didn’t wait for your arrival, it just kept on coming like a freight train at The Pitt.

—-

2 Years Ago

“Listen, I really wanted to talk to you about something” the man next to you eyes the nurses station, while talking to you to see if anyone else is listening to him. He comes back to look you in the eyes. He loves eye contact.

“Can I take you for a bite to eat after work?” Robby asks you. The way he was looking at you was unusual, not that he never looked at you, but there was an unknown glimmer of something else behind his words. It also wasn’t usual for you guys to share a meal, although it was usually at a diner a few blocks away from the hospital. Or on top of the roof shoulder to shoulder looking at the lights of the city. Sometimes, if you got really lucky, you’d be able to share a 10 minute break in the designated break room, where you could actually sit down and enjoy your food. Robby never brought anything besides a granola bar or apple, so you’d, almost without thinking, started packing extra snacks for him. You’d double up the amount of cucumber slices, or dates, you’d throw an extra sandwich together “just in case.” And Robby always took it with a large smile that you came to know was only reserved for you.

You put the iPad you’ve been looking at but not really reading and turn to your attending.

“Yeah, Dr. Robby. I could go for a bite to eat,”You smile back.

“Alright. I was a little hopeful you’d say yes and I made reservations at 9 PM.” He says quietly.

Because of course he did. Michael Robinavitch takes charge. He knew, even if for some crazy reason you said you couldn’t, he could still convince you to agree. There was a way he looked at you, made deep eye contact with you, that hit something inside of you so deep that you didn’t know it existed in you before. You never said anything out loud but this man has an extremely tight hold on your heart. You hadn’t even been on a date, hell you hadn’t even kissed, let alone held hands. Actually, neither of you even crossed any real boundaries that would have Gloria up in arms about. More him than you kept whatever was between you as professional as he could while also making it known you were some form of special to him beyond coworkers.

He’d opened up to you about things. Growing up with his grandmother, how he didn’t know who he was talking to but in really hard situations in the Pitt he’d talk to someone, something, for something resembling hope. He talked about his relationship with Adamson, how he changed how he saw medicine when he started working with him. How much Adamson taught him not only professionally, but personally. How it took him years to realize how wrecked he was because of letting his best friend go and not being able to properly grieve him or any other person during the literal hell that was Covid. You never said anything back, just nodded, and every once in a while you’d reach for his hand and he’d let you stroke his thumb in comfort.

You knew you loved him a year into your residency. You always thought he was the sexiest man you’d ever met, almost immediately upon shaking his hand. But loving him took longer. You weren’t even more than friends when you’d realized it. You were on the roof top after an especially brutal shift. There was a multiple car pile up that brought 10 cars of people in, none of them be able to be saved. You and Robby were involved in calling TOD on most of them. It was brutal. He was looking to the skyline when he turned around, making immediate eye contact with you.

“I know I’m your attending and I know you’re my resident but I’m too fucking tired to pretend right now. Way too fucking tired.” And with that he approached you, stepping forward with his hands and skimming them down to wrap around your waist, pulling him into you. You’re surprised he made the first move but you don’t dare pull away. You relish in hearing his heartbeat through his chest, bringing your arms up to wrap around his shoulders. You of course don’t speak the actual words to him for quite some time but on some level you think he knows you so well that he’s known the whole time.

Now all these years later you were finishing residency and weeks away from being an attending. Years of being Robby’s confidante, secret favorite resident, and best friend (besides Jack).

“I’ll pick you up at 8:30 if…that works.” He puts the iPad down. “Yeah, yeah. That sounds good Michael.” You respond quietly.

If you were right, and you were, because you knew him, he was nervous. More so than usual, and it wasn’t about any of your coworkers hearing. Was it because he’d asked you to dinner? Was it because this was a date?

This was a date right? He made reservations, he asked you out and it wasn’t to a greasy diner. It had to be a date. You know you weren’t alone in your feelings, either. Not even close. If Robby knew you, you knew him. You could predict his next move before he made it. His heartbeat was yours. You almost moved as one when you were both with the same patient in the Pitt. It was magical, almost like a staged opera. Mesmerizing.

And to prove your point, like he can read your mind Robby leans in to you and says “Just so there’s no doubt about this in any way. I’m done playing around. You’re not going to be my resident anymore in less than 2 weeks and it’s as long as I can wait. Look at me.” You take your eyes away from the nursing station, and look up into his eyes. But I want to be very clear about what you’re accepting. All my cards are on the table. Are we on the same page doctor?” And prods, obviously eyeing your lips.

“Yes Dr, I think so.” You reply.

So this would be a date.

AN: I knooooow. It’s shorter, but I wanted to pump this out while it was still fresh. It’s a flashback again, but I promise you’ll wanna keep reading this!! The next chapter will be the first official date and it may get steamy ;)

AN continued: I edited this a bit to take out some too steamy stuff at work but no big deal in plot ways

[mikayuumouse]

The past few chapters are giving me "too good to be true" vibes BUT THEN THEY'RE ACTUALLY REAL. THEY'RE CANON. THIS IS GENUINELY HAPPENING YOU GUYS

Earlier today I was walking to my room and then I remembered chapter 121.5 and how Atsushi died for Akutagawa and then repeated Akutagawa's dying words back to him and I actually almost walked into a wall

am I okay you ask

no I am not

The sskk development of 121.5—123 is making me scream (in a good way, as a sskk shipper I am currently having the time of my life and popping champagne bottles), like, Atsushi died for Akutagawa? Akutagawa's canonly possessive of Atsushi? Atsushi is Akutagawa's reason to live? Atsushi is Akutagawa's heart? Atsushi saw Akutagawa's past and understands him on a deeper level now? Atsushi dying gave Akutagawa his memories back and the first thing he remembered was himself dying for Atsushi? Akutagawa thought about Atsushi's and his sacrifice when he was contemplating what real strength was which means the strongest he's ever felt was when he died to protect and save Atsushi? Atsushi is Akutagawa's ordeal? Atsushi is Akutagawa's drive to act? Akutagawa sees Atsushi's face in his mind instead of Dazai's now? Akutagawa knows he's on the brink of death so he thinks about Atsushi because he wants the weretiger to be his last thought? Akutagawa demanded a literal god to bring Atsushi back? They both know they can't live without the other now? When Atsushi's with Akutagawa he truly doesn't feel alone anymore? Atsushi said in the beginning of the series that no one would ever care if he died and now Akutagawa is doing everything he can to get him back because Akutagawa cares?

My heart is melting

[moonshynecybin]

are u going to continue ur same age kissing lesson au....

hell yeah why not. part one here! i might add the actual sex scene later we shall seeeee but for now here's more teen drinking and weirdo flirting and marc hurting vale's feelings and having literally no idea that he is doing that whatsoever. oh and also him being a ROMANTIC !

It doesn’t happen again for long enough that Marc would think he imagined it, if not for the stain on his sneakers.

Time passes, and the bike is smooth for Marc, and they trade wins. They don’t talk much— but it always comes back around. There’s not much for hiding, traveling all together like this, and Marc knows that Vale at least likes him most of the time.

He taps on his window again at Catalunya, the last race of the European season. Marc’s slightly up on him in the standings, so he should really sit tight, get some good sleep. Think about his lap times and his grandpa, who is coming to watch him race.

He slips on his green soled shoes and lets himself out, instead. He also knows that he won’t get a chance like this again for a while.

“It’s your last race in Europe in 250cc,” Vale throws an arm over Marc’s shoulder as they walk out towards the pitlane, something he does when he wants Marc to know that he is bigger than him. Vale probably doesn't know that Marc doesn't mind. “Are you going to miss me?”

Sometimes, when Vale sits behind him during a race and flashes his front wheel on Marc’s side, swapping places up and down the track, it reminds Marc of that night, and the rhythm of their mouths. It's not too dissimilar, he thinks, the push-pull of it. The give and take. Almost a conversation, but not quite. That, he thinks he will definitely miss.

“What? All over my back tire?” He shakes his head until Vale makes a face at him. “You will be up with me soon enough, I won’t have enough time to miss you.”

With a huff of breath Vale lets him go, apparently satisfied with the shape of how the world looks at their feet, and gestures loosely to the chain link fence around the track. No words necessary. Marc goes first, the sole of his sneaker just slightly too big for the hole the twist of metal makes.

They scramble up and over the fence, Vale threatening to jump on Marc if he doesn’t catch the bottle he throws over to the other side, which Marc does smoothly. Marc doesn’t want to think about the faces that the Honda people would make, if they saw Marc out here doing this with Valentino. Well. They would probably make worse faces if they knew what else he wanted to do with Valentino.

“Besides,” Marc rolls the bottle over in his hand. Same brand. He shoots Vale a look as Vale smiles beatifically. “It’s not like you won’t be around.”

Vale hums noncommittally, then nods. 

“Hm, you will need to let me know about Honda, who is good, who is bad. That way, when I am your teammate I can keep all the good ones—” Marc starts to laugh, choking on his first mouthful of liquor. “—and you can have your side of the garage to test things for me.”

“You want me to spy for you?”

“Just for the year, you know. A man on the inside.” Vale nods, taking the bottle from Marc’s hand and sipping. “Uccio said no, so.”

“Well, if Uccio said no,” Marc says, a little mean, sprawling out on the grass with his legs apart. Vale gracefully collapses next to him. Marc considers, briefly, the concept of a marriage bed made of the grass on various general admissions area hills. He decides not to voice this thought. “What, and give away all my secrets?”

A wry smile. Marc blinks and for a second his hair is longer, brighter, platinum. The same expression on his face. He blinks again and it's back to its natural honey-dipped brown fuzz. Not the moon, anymore. 

Vale’s earring catches the light. Maybe the stars.

“You are right— I very much doubt you will give away any of your secrets.”

Marc pokes him with his foot, lies. “For you, I might.”

Vale looks over quizzically, so Marc continues.

“If you give me something, first.”

Vale grins slyly, then pretends to think. Like what? should be the next thing he says, Marc handing him the perfect bait. Instead, he says:

“Ha, I already gave you something.”

“What?” He frowns.

“So, Marc.” Vale thumbs the rim of the bottle at the place where Marc had put his mouth earlier. “Any more girls for you?”

He chokes. Laughs hard and fake. Ah, gave him that.

“Eh, okay. Hm, not yet.”

He never really got around to talking to those friends of his cousins.

“Why? Not enough practice?” Vales says, nice and bright, and Marc swallows. His throat is dry. Probably the alcohol.

Vale’s eyes glint, knife-bright.

It fills Marc up to the brim, this thing hanging between them like a sword. Dangerously, he thinks: they have before, they could again.

He shrugs. “I’m still busy. Maybe once the season ends, you know. Then I’ll have time to go and— study.”

“Ah, I see,” Vale nods his head in bitter, slightly condescending acquiescence, and Marc’s eyes narrow. He’s not sure what the game is, here. 

“Besides, I’ve practiced what? Kissing, once? Not that much else. And with girls— I can’t use much of it anyways, it doesn’t help me there.” Handjobs, he means. Marc’s touched a dick, but he’s never— fingered anyone. Gone down on them. Fucked them. 

Vale’s eyebrows furrow. He looks troubled. “With girls it is not so—”

Marc faces him, cutting him off.

“What. What is it like, with girls.”

A pause. He doesn’t think Vale was expecting Marc to be like this. Then Vale’s expression changes, morphs and dances from a frown to a smile like a drop of quicksilver. He leans closer, sleezy, charming. 

“What do you want to know, baby?”

Marc doesn't blink, meets him head on, seizes on the first thing to come to his mind and keeps his voice straight as an arrow. “Fingering.”

Surprised, Vale sputters a little. He asked.

“Marc, you—” The bright tinkle of an Italian laugh breaks the tension, and Vale throws his head back. He wipes his palms on his jeans then claps his hands together, and Marc’s heart kicks up.

“Fuck, you win, Jesus. Alright.” He stands. “Let's go.”

Marc frowns.

“What?”

Vale offers Marc the broad palm of his hand. Marc zeroes in on the blunt ends of his fingers. His ring.

“You don’t think I’m going to teach you how to finger someone out here on the grass beside turn one, do you?”

As if that stopped him last time.

Marc lets himself get pulled up.

[gallifreyan85]

highkey im LOVING all ur agathaxreader fics im literally in a pool of tears when i read each one and I LOVE IT SO MUCHHHHHH ILOVEIT AND ILOVEUFORMAKINGIT,,, so pls dont explode anytime in the near future i need more fics, i literally need one everyday its now a drug ts insane i have a fic req, if u could make a 'tell ur baby that im ur baby' - i bet on losing dogs, where someone gets jealous that someone else is getting more attention that them, ex agatha losing her self bc she saw u hugging ur old teacher or reader crying themself to sleep because they think agatha likes billy more than them :) PLSPSLSPLSLPSLPSLPSLP I BEG OF U MAKE ONE IM GONNA DIE ILYSM IF U DO

Hii, I'm sorry if this took too long, I was traveling and then had college stuff, so I was in a bit of a hustle. I had started writing this and then kind of got off track a little (hence the title being different), but I tried to keep it around the whole reader thinking agatha prefers billy now, and all that jazz. I hope you like it, if you're not happy tell me, it has a bit more dialogue than my usual fics, but hopefully it'll be okay. Thanks for the request!!

<3

Hurt Me and Tell Me You're Mine

summary: Summary: after Wanda closed the hex, things got complicated. Now you’re on the witches road with your mentor after not seeing her for three years, and she brought someone who you think might be your replacement (Billy.) With everyone reeling after what happened during the third trial, you try to talk to her and sort things out.

pairing: mentor!Agatha x reader

A/n: as always, more stuff at the end, this was originally supposed to be part 5 of (𝐼 𝒲𝒶𝓃𝓉) 𝒩𝑜 𝑀𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝒯𝒽𝒾𝓈 but I have something else planned for that sooo. idk. it's my bday tomorrow i'm a bit chaotic. enjoy!!

The Witches Road was no place for the faint of heart. You’d learned that the hard way, first getting drenched during Jen’s trial, then almost burning to death because of a curse during Alice’s. When Teen had gotten hurt you caught a glimpse of something in Agatha’s eyes, the way she lingered for just a moment too long after everyone had already made sure he was okay. It had been three years since you’d last seen her and you wanted to sit down and talk, catch up for lack of a better, less normal word, but time didn’t seem to be on your side. And it seemed Agatha wasn’t either. You’d been her student, if that was what you could call it, and she was relentless and strict and sarcastic, but she’d taught you things about magic no other witch ever would. You were sure of it. Her view on magic was all control and precision, yet chaos and power at the same time.

It was a lot.

It was unique.

But you didn’t regret it.

You still wondered if maybe she did. She never told you. In fact, ever since you barged in to find her and this other boy around your age in her house, along with a bunch of witches you didn’t know, she kept quiet around you. So you came along. Of course it would be dangerous, like everything else she ever did, but you could handle it. You didn’t spend three years perfecting your magic best as you could to flake out at the slightest opportunity of chaos. Maybe you were like her after all. And then her trial came along. You were there with the rest of them, on Teen’s side when the others tried to turn on her, and then her mother’s ghost was there, and Agatha was pleading with them, pleading, not to leave her behind, and Alice stepped in, and--

You shook the memory out of your head. Tried to clear your thoughts. It didn’t really work, apart from giving your already minor headache a boost, but you sighed and tried to relax anyway. Being tense would get you nowhere.

It was then that you realized the rest of the coven, whoever was left-- had finally stopped arguing. You turned to see Jen and Lilia talking to Teen, all three of them sitting down, not sparing you a glance. Neither Agatha or Rio were in sight. You sighed. While you did wonder about Rio, who she was and why Agatha seemed to hate her so much, you didn’t feel up to going to look for her. You wanted to find Agatha. And with the others preoccupied, this was your chance.

So, quietly, unnoticed by anyone, you slipped away from the path and onto a little clearing, hoping that Agatha didn’t go far. You’d learned that the trial would be ahead of you whichever way you went, but that didn’t mean you were eager to wonder around such a place alone. You had just spotted something resembling a small pond, or maybe more of a swamp-- it was covered with weeds and tall, wet grass hanging from overhead branches from the trees-- when a voice made you jump.

“You never were very good at following the rules.” Agatha stepped out from a dark nook you hadn’t even noticed, a distant smirk on her face, not quite reaching her eyes, “But then again, that was part of why I liked you.”

You turned around to see her striding towards you in a slow, seemingly composed way, hands shoved in her coat pockets.

“Liked?” you murmured quietly.

She chuckled.

“I did share my very vast magical knowledge with you. Be a little grateful.”

You stayed quiet. Her smirk, which you suspected was fake, fell into something of a contemplative expression. She seemed… less sure of herself.

It unnerved you a little.

“Stray not from the path,” she went on, her voice a teasing lilt. “And yet…”

“I was looking for you.” you murmured.

“Still, it’s no excuse.” she huffed faintly, coming to a stop next to you, blue eyes fixed on the muddy pond. “We’re already down one person. You shouldn’t wander off unless you wanna be number two.”

“Three.” you said faintly.

She gave you a confused look.

“Sharon Davis?” you gestured around the air to no avail. Agatha frowned.

“Who?”

You sighed. “The gardening lady.”

Her nose scrunched, a vague scoff escaping her. “Oh. Right. Two people then. But the point still stands.”

And then--

“Why are you here?”

You stayed quiet. She frowned.

“Pet—”

“You used to call me that all the time.” you said softly. She didn’t look at you.

“Did I?”

��Yes. Now you just use my name. It’s…” What was it? Odd, unnatural, distant-- too distant.

You knew she didn’t care for you in any soft, affectionate way, of course she didn’t, but you felt like she was purposefully being vague and quiet towards you. Maybe it was the three years of not talking. Maybe she already forgot about you. What were you really? A student? How many of those she must’ve had over the years, dozens, maybe hundreds, and you were just one in the long line of Agatha Harkness wannabes, making yourself think she had it in her to become fond of you.

Maybe she did. Or so you thought. The hope you held had slowly started to die out from the moment you stepped into her basement. When you turned to look at her her head was held high, one hand running through her hair, the other somewhere along her side, half hidden by that blue coat, fingers grasping around nothing as if she was perfecting an invisible spell.

“Did you get it back?” you asked quietly blurting out your thoughts.

She paused.

You weren’t sure if she was expecting you to ask about Alice, or what happened, why it happened, but you didn’t. Selfishly enough, you were meaning to keep on track for trying to get her to talk to you. To bridge that gap that was somehow there no matter how hard you tried to follow her, agree to her ideas, watch her when she was watching someone else.

“No.” she said flatly. “Not all the way, at least.” she raised a hand, twisted her fingers, and you watched as a small cloud of warm orange light slipped around her empty palm, swirled for a moment, and then vanished into a puff of smoke.

She wasn’t looking at it. Her eyes were fixed on some distant spot, far beyond the forest.

“That’s still something.” you tried to sound optimistic. “Something’s better than nothing.”

She scoffed, shoving her hands back into her pockets.

“You always were so cheerful. I suppose you’re right, sure. But this is nothing compared to—” she paused. You could see the inner turmoil in her eyes, that quiet fury mixed with longing.

“It’s different.” she said, turning away. “If it had been someone like Wanda—”

“I tried to find her, you know.” you said quietly.

You thought she’d at least turn to look at you. She didn’t.

“And?”

“People say she’s dead. I’m...not too sure. They didn’t even find her body, but…”

Agatha huffed. “You could’ve done something useful.”

You frowned.

What? Was she serious?

“I did it for you.” you said, firmly, a little surprised, almost desperate, “I was doing it to help you—”

“Well a lot of good that did.” she sighed.

You fell silent. Hurt. You saw her gaze flick over your face, and something sharp softened in her blue eyes.

“What did you think you’d do? If you...found her.”

“I would’ve asked her to lift that- that spell. Whatever it was.”

She tilted her head.

“Why?”

Because I wanted to help. Because you’re the only person I can call family, the only one who-

You decided to be honest.

“Because I-- missed you.”

She didn’t say anything. You thought you saw her huff, lightly, glance away-- but maybe it was all in your head.

She was turned away from you, her head towards the faint chatter of the others, Teen talking to Lilia, their voices carrying through the thicket of the underbrush. You felt a wave of frustration course through you.

“Agatha.” you said.

She turned. Perfect posture, perfect teeth, sharp smile in place.

“Yes?”

And no words left you. A part of you maybe wanted to scream. To ask her why she was acting like this, so distant, so unlike her to be gloating so much, the lack of teasing little taunts murmured to you in passing. Instead she was just… quiet. Yes, she teased the others, but you? It was almost as if she was ignoring you.

“Are you going to stand there and gawk at me or are you going to speak?” she asked, enunciating every word with clear precision.

That felt more like her. Something eased inside of you, a familiarity, a warmth, at her voice saying things you were used to. Things you wouldn’t admit you so dearly missed in your time apart.

You took a breath. “Why are you so curious about him?” you blurted.

It wasn’t what you were meaning to ask, your preferred response would’ve been something like ‘can you let me in on what’s going on’ or ‘are you mad at me’ and now she was looking at you like that, like you just asked her something very funny and amusing and she looked smug. More like the Agatha you knew. It hurt a little as much as it soothed. You wondered briefly if you would die with her one day, just like this, meet your end stuck in some nevereding loop of running after the affection of someone who might not even want you anymore, not in her coven, not as her student, definitely not as a daughte--

“Oooh.” she smirked, tilting her head, “is someone feeling left out?”

You crossed your arms. Your insides were screaming yes, yes I am, why are you so interested in him, why won’t you talk to me, I was there first-

Instead you just said, “No.”

She smiled. “No? Are you sure, dear? I do know you very well, and-”

“All this time you’ve been watching him.” you said, looking down at the murky water below, “I want to know why. And it’s not just boredom, you don’t look like that at the people you’re not trying to figure out. So why him? Is it the sigil? Or what?”

Agatha sighed. “And you’ve been watching me, have you?”

You were. You were always watching her, even before, when she was your mentor officially, watching the hand movements, the way she countered spells, cast shields and blasted hexes and walked around with that impeccable, unflinching flair.

“I just wanna know why you’re so interested in him.” you murmured. “He’s just some kid, same as me, and I was here first.”

She paused, lips curving just a little bit upwards.

But she didn’t answer.

You sighed.

Looked down.

Took another breath.

“Okay, fine. Don’t tell me. Just-- why-- at least tell me why you’re acting like this? What id it, what did I do? Did I do something wrong, are you- are you mad at me?”

At that, her expression changed. It was almost imperceptible, but you caught it easily, a softer shift in her stoic exterior.

“No.” she said after a moment. Her voice was quiet. “I’m not mad at you. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You felt something deep inside your heart unwind, relief flowing through your veins, a hope growing brighter-- “Then why?” you uttered, your own voice quieter too, slightly uneven despite your attempts at keeping your composure.

“Because,” she sighed finally, turning back to look at you, “you weren’t supposed to be here. You weren’t supposed to come with us.”

You frowned.

“What?”

She pressed her lips together, frustrated.

“None of this was supposed to happen, toots. No trials, no—” she gestured blindly around, annoyed, “middle-of-the-woods cabins and ghosts and—” she met your eyes, “no Road.”

You paused, not following.

“What do you mean no Road?”

“The Witches Road, it doesn’t exist.” she said.

You stared at her. Blinked. Still didn’t understand.

“But-- it does. It does exist- we’re on it, right now. We’re here-- this is real.”

“Yes.” she nodded, something darker in her eyes. “It’s real. And the question is, who made it real?”

You followed her gaze over to the others. Stopped. Finally understood.

“You think he made the road?”

She waited. “I had my suspicions from the start, but now I’m sure.”

“You’re sure.” you tried to read her thoughts and came up blank. “So he’s a powerful witch, you mean. Powerful enough to make all of this? You think he made-- everything around us, right now?”

She nodded, quiet, and turned to meet your eye, voice low.

“Yes. That much power in someone so young,” you swallowed down a sting of something unfair, “it’s a precious thing. Needs to be handled carefully, or else…”

“Now you’re saying he’s precious?”

“I’m saying his power is precious, and that’s really sweet actually.”

You frowned.

“How much you seem to care what I think about him. I never took you for the jealous type, pet, but here we are.”

“I’m not—” you swallowed. “jealous.”

She chuckled. “No. Of course not. You’re just worried your dear old mentor might’ve found a new favourite student.”

“I’m your only student. And he’s not-- Agatha—”

“It’s alright, pet.” she murmured. “You know you’ll always be my favourite.”

You died there, maybe. Those were the words you needed to hear, however pathetic, however needy, they made something settle inside of you, the frustration-turned-desperation melting to relief, to ease, and more hope.

You hugged her.

She wasn’t expecting it, not at all, and made out a slightly startled oof- as you wrapped your arms around her so tight, holding on for dear life, face tucked into her coat.

“Why does everything have to be filled with sentimental nonsense when it comes to you, hm?” she asked, but you already felt her arms coming up around you, hands that pulled so much life out of others smoothing over your back in a comforting gesture. You didn’t know for sure when the tears gathered in your eyes, but before you had a chance to stop them they were falling down your cheeks, and into the mess of her curled, dark hair. You sniffled.

She let out a sigh, as if this exhausted her to the utmost level, and ran her fingers through your tangled hair.

“There, there.” she said, a little awkwardly, voice laced with exasperation. “You’re okay.”

And you nodded, because she was right, you were okay, and you were fine--

“I thought you-” your breath hitched, “you might be mad at me for- for not coming back so soon- I was trying- I t-tried—”

She exhaled softly, a thousand heavy regrets in her heart, and shook her head.

“It doesn’t matter, darling.”

“But it does,” you insisted, “it does matter, I should’ve found a way-- and instead he—”

“He isn’t my favourite, only student, and he’s not my-”

“Your what?” you made out quietly.

“He’s not my anything.” she said. “You are.”

That was enough. Enough to ease your worries once and for all, all the untrue thoughts your mind had conjured up about you in the dead of night, that she might hate you, might not want you around anymore, that she found someone better- easier to teach, better at learning-

She pulled away from you with a quiet look, her eyes on you, studying your tearful face.

“What?” you murmured shakily.

“You really care, don’t you.”

“Of course I do-”

She turned away a little, only slightly, like she was maybe unsure if you should see. Her eyes were pale as always, blue and set like cloudy weather, and she had the look of someone so composed on the outside yet hiding a storm on the inside. That was most of her life, you realized at some point while staying with her before. Always so distant, yet so much emotion raging inside. You looked into her eyes and wondered if you were seeing a glimmer of regret. What she did to Alice was a reminder of who you were dealing with, that she wasn’t some friendly, smiling witch or sleepover buddy, but you weren’t about to turn your back on her like the rest of them. Not now. Not here. You might not agree with her morals, but this was something you knew when you begged her to let you join her. You knew what you were signing up for. Witchcraft wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows and Agatha Harkness wasn’t a cold-blooded psycho, not like everyone said or thought. You knew her. Deep down, quietly and from the sidelines, but you did. You believed that and you hoped she knew that too.

You wiped your eyes, quiet and careful, and stilled when she rose one hand and swiped off the liquid on your cheek with her thumb.

And you asked what kept lingering in the back of your mind since you all left the last trial.

“Agatha?”

“Hm?”

“Why didn’t you ask me?”

She tilted her head. “Asked you what?”

“To give you my magic. Juice you up, whatever you call it. I could’ve blasted you with it.”

She stilled just slightly, an almost-smile on her lips. “And you would’ve let me?”

“If you asked me, yes.”

“How do you know I just wouldn’t kill you?” she asked.

The truth was, you didn’t. You hoped she wouldn’t, but it was all a slippery slope. You did trust her. Not just a little. Maybe too much. You definitely believed her when she spoke about being on the Witches Road before. And you would’ve let her take some of your magic too. Naively, maybe, you also believed she wouldn’t have killed you. That maybe, somehow, she would’ve stopped just on the brink, and it would leave you slumped over and heaving and panting but alive. You were so close to stepping in when Alice did it first. Would it have been different if it had been you? Would you have saved a life, or exchanged it for your own?

Beside, quietly, Agatha said, “You don’t know what it’s like, dear. All that power, surging into you, it’s like breathing air after being underwater for too long. It’s all you need to do until you feel better. Until you catch your breath. Some could survive that. Some couldn’t. But Alice never stood a chance. And neither would you.”

That stung.

“You think we’re too weak?”

But Agatha shook her head, the look in her eyes almost remorseful. “No. Not that. But it was three long years. Anyone to blast me with even a spark of it was guaranteed to…” she stopped. “It’s not an easy thing, this.” she said, quietly. “Most days I love it. It’s saved me more times than I can count. But it’s not always the easiest to control. Do you think you could make yourself stop breathing the second you took that first breath of air after being down for so long? For three years?I’m glad it wasn’t you.” she said, and you were surprised to her the firm conviction of her tone, “I’m not glad it was her, but I’m glad it wasn’t you. I don’t know what I would’ve done if—”

She didn’t finish her sentence. There was a gentleness in her gaze you oh so missed, that soft look she gave you after saying something far too soft and indulging you in it. Her hand gently fixed your hair, tucking away a strand gently behind your ear.

And you didn’t know what to say so you just stood there, looking at her, feeling like you might cry all over again.

“So we’re on the same team?” you murmured. “Not like, the coven, them, and you and me. I just mean, us.”

She smiled. A fragile, uncertain smile, but it was there. Guarded. Healing. Safe.

“You and me.” she said back, “I promise, kid.”

For a brief moment, neither of you said anything. You felt the moment settle. Dissolve.

“We should probably get back to the others.” she said. “The sooner we finish this thing the sooner we can get home.”

Home? You turned to look at her, but she was already strolling away, posture poised, head up, back straight, that blue coat flapping behind her like a loyal apprentice, instead of you. You watched her for a moment, walking with her back to you, no doubt rather unwelcome now with the rest of the group.

You couldn’t blame them.

But you shoved your own guilt over it down. Perhaps they’d hate you for it, but you’d stay on her side. Just like before, just like always. There were times when even people like Agatha needed someone in their corner, and you swore to yourself you’d stay though the worst of it, where so many others turned their backs on her and left.

And so, with a purposeful stride in your step, you turned away from the lake and followed her back to the others. There was another adventure to come.

A/n: this wasn't proofread, i'm sorry. title is from Diet Mountain Dew (The Flight Demo) by Lana Del Ray. send me your thoughts on agatha or anything else, I love to talk with yall!!! I had a lot of college exams these last few days and tomorrow I'll be 21 (I literally do not feel old enough) but life goes on and what can you do. Thank you for reading and I hope you're all good and have a wonderful day!

Taglist 💜 @milflovers4 @senhorita-girassol @dandelions4us @kaymariesworld @ahintofchaos @atlasimagines

[its-luna-noel]

rain on sunday | gojo x reader

You and Satoru Gojo have just started dating. Gojo's eager to make it to the next stage of the relationship, but he's not sure how.

tags: 18+, MDNI, f!reader, virgin!gojo, slight nerdjo vibes but that's not the main focus, new relationship, slight dommy mommy vibes, subby gojo, he's a whimpering pathetic mess okay, oral (m! & f! receiving), some talking through it (literally teaching him as you go), mostly gojo pov

word count: 4.8k

masterlist | link to ao3

Satoru Gojo has never even had his first kiss.

Hard to believe, almost impossible. A guy that attractive, that charismatic, that goddamn irresistible should have people all over him, shouldn’t he? And he supposes he does; he has men and women and every other gender under the sun wanting him, yearning for him.

And yet, no one will touch him.

Because that’s the problem, isn’t it? Attention like that has made him untouchable, a work of art, a god.

And gods don’t get kissed, they get worshiped.

So when you come into his life and treat him like a normal guy – well, a very attractive guy, but a normal guy nonetheless – he has no idea how to handle it.

Your first two dates go very well, the two of you joking and laughing the entire time, and he feels so warm around you. But when he leaves that night, he thinks he’s starting to hurt your feelings when he averts his eyes and doesn’t kiss you on your doorstep.

But you still text him the next morning: i had fun last night! dinner at my place next week?

Satoru can’t help but sigh as he stares at his phone. He’s not sure what you’re expecting, but the fact that you’re inviting him over gives him a pretty good idea that you, at the very least, want more.

But he can’t say no to you; how could he? You’re beautiful, and funny, and sweet, and everything he could ever hope for. So he texts back, Me too, sweet girl. Sunday work for you?

He tosses aside his phone, sighing again and propping his head in his hands, wondering what the hell he’s getting into. 

Sunday comes slowly, giving him time and space to relax a little about the prospect of being alone with you in your home. He’s not sure what it’ll come to, and he can’t spend his time worrying about how it might go when he’s nervous for their first kiss.

Or first…other things. He clears his throat and adjusts himself in the car seat at the thought.

Rain patters against his windshield, and he has the heater blasting as he pulls up in front of your apartment. He takes a deep breath to calm himself before he gets out, jogging through the rain up to the front door of your apartment.

You’re waiting to let him in, your smile more radiant than the cloud-covered sun when you open the door. “Hi,” you breathe, and he can’t help but smile back.

“Hi,” he replies, and he holds out a small bouquet of flowers he bought for you, partially because he’s pretty sure that’s what he’s supposed to do, but mostly because he saw them and thought of you. “I hope you like roses.”

You hum, pressing your nose into the bundle of flowers and inhaling deeply. “I do,” you reply, and your smile has softened now, looking up at him with eyes so gentle it makes him want to kiss you senseless.

God, he wishes he knew how.

You turn and start to lead him up to your apartment, and he tries to keep his eyes off the way your hips sway, the way your ass bounces with every step. He knows he shouldn’t be objectifying you like this, but here he is.

He swallows and averts his eyes.

You let him into your apartment, and it’s small and cozy, just like he imagined. There are decorations everywhere and pictures on the walls, little pieces of you that he can’t help but adore.

He watches you put the flowers in a vase on your kitchen counter, sneaking another sniff. He can’t help but smile, charmed that you seem to like them so much. Then he rolls up his sleeve and moves to the kitchen. “Alright, put me to work.”

You walk over, your arm brushing his; he has to hold back a shiver. You push a cutting board and knife towards him, instructing him to chop the vegetables as you work at the stove.

As a team, you finish making dinner, and then you have a nice, civil conversation over dinner, laughing lightheartedly over cute little jokes.

Satoru is dying.

He’s torn – utterly divided between taking you in his arms or running out the front door with his tail between his legs. He wishes he knew how, how to take you in his arms and hold you like you’re precious, how to treat you well.

But he doesn’t, and so he stays frozen, laughing along until you walk him to the front door to wish him good night.

“Satoru,” you say, your voice so decadently sweet it drives him insane, “I–”

He doesn’t let you finish. Instead, he surges forward, grabbing your wrist and tugging you against his chest. It’s clumsy, you’re stumbling into him with a gasp, but he doesn’t care, he can’t, not when he’s leaning down and catching your lips with his, pressing hard against you for one moment, two, feeling you inhale sharply against his unyielding mouth.

Then he pulls away, and instead of feeling proud of himself, or even joyful that he finally kissed you, he sees your surprised expression, and all he feels is guilt.

“I-I’m sorry,” he stammers, dropping his hold on your wrist like you’ve burned him. “I shouldn’t have– I should’ve asked first, I–”

“Satoru,” you interrupt, tilting your head curiously to the side, “it’s fine. Was…was that your first kiss?”

He lets out a huff, and he feels his cheeks burn as he looks away. “That bad, huh?” he says, self-deprecation dripping from his voice.

“No, no,” you reassure him, reaching to gently touch his arm. “I’m just…wondering.”

Without speaking, he just nods. Eyes averted in shame.

Trying to hide your smile, you bite your lip. You reach up a hand and touch his cheek, gently encouraging him to look back at you. When he does, beautiful ocean eyes meeting yours, you whisper emphatically, “It was fine, Satoru. You don’t have to apologize.”

Fine. It was fine. What an embarrassing, lackluster, disappointing way to describe a first kiss. He wants to scoff, to turn away and hide and never come back out of his apartment, but you keep him there, forcing him to maintain eye contact as you speak again.

“Do you want me to teach you?”

Satoru blinks once, then again. Surely he misheard; that’s not something you can teach, can you? It’s not something you can read up on, and if it was, he surely would be good at it already.

And surely it’s not something you can lecture him on, with your mouth otherwise engaged.

But he, ever eager to please, nods, searching your eyes for clues on what to do. How to touch you, how to hold you, as you teach him.

You bring your other hand up to his other cheek, so that now you’re cradling his face between your palms, still gazing into his shining eyes. You whisper, “Close your eyes.”

He hesitates, so nervous he feels a twisting in his gut – or is that something else? But he follows your directions and lets his eyes fall shut, white lashes brushing against his cheeks as he waits.

“Just follow my lead,” you say, and then you’re kissing him.

It’s soft, gentle, so much more hesitant than the first time your lips met. Just the barest brush of lips… And then you tip your chin and part your lips softly, just enough to move your lips with his in a way that has his knees giving way. He reaches for you with shaky hands, taking your arm again but this time with a gentle grip, his long fingers circling wrist and feeling your pulse thump evenly, stubbornly, against his skin.

You kiss him until he starts to melt into you, losing his nervous composure in favor of moving his lips with yours.

You pull back slightly for air, and his eyes flutter open, and he feels drunk on you when he rasps, “More.”

You can’t help it; you let out a little giggle, smiling up at him. You lean in teasingly and whisper, your tone playful, “Do you want me to teach you how to use your tongue?”

He almost moans right there at the idea. He nods desperately, already leaning back in to catch your lips again.

You hum against his mouth, and your tongue brushes his lower lip, waiting for him to do the same. But his movement is a little too eager, the way he breaches your mouth and shoves his tongue inside to taste you far too greedily. You put your hand on his chest and try to slow him down, pulling away just enough to murmur against his lips, “Relax, Satoru. Relax your tongue. Slow down a little.”

So he does, relaxing so the wet muscle isn’t so oppressive, and it becomes slow and sensual as his tongue starts stroking yours gently. He’s a fast learner, and as soon as he’s listening to you and matching your movements, you find yourself getting lost in the kiss as well, fingers knotting themselves in the front of his shirt to pull him closer.

He groans into your mouth as you do, tilting his head further to get a better angle to explore you. As he starts to slowly, cautiously, take the lead, he sinks his fingers into your hair and holds you still while he licks into your mouth, wet heat setting you aflame while he explores your mouth.

You moan back into his mouth, returning the gesture, swirling your tongue with his. His tongue delves deeper into your mouth, tasting all corners. You open even further, letting him in. He just moans again, and his hands roam your arms, rubbing up and down until he gains the courage to rise up your neck and to your cheeks, cupping your face in his hands as he kisses you more enthusiastically, now that he knows how. You match his fervor, kissing him hard enough to push him against the wall next to your front door. He gasps into your mouth, hands clutching at your waist.

You start kissing down his neck. “Let me go down on you,” you murmur, nipping lightly at his neck. “Let me show you what it feels like.”

He huffs a laugh, leaning his head back against the wall as you continue kissing down his neck. “I can imagine what it feels like, sweet thing,” he pants, chest heaving. “That…that beautiful mouth…”

You shake your head, slowly kissing lower, hands rising and bunching up his shirt as you push it up his torso. “Not like this,” you breathe.

His own breath catches in his throat; he’d been shirtless in front of people, sure, but not like this, not with hands roaming under the fabric and tracing every muscular line of his abdomen. He helps you take the shirt off, pulling it over his head and discarding it, back arching into your touch with a whiney moan. He’d be embarrassed by the sound if he wasn’t so fucking turned on that it ached.

You just continue kissing down his body, licking at his abs like you find him so damn irresistible. You work your way down his body until your lips press against the button of his jeans. He gasps, hips reflexively bucking at your teasing, and you grin up at him as you slowly unbutton his pants.

He hesitates, his hands hovering over yours. Insecure and unsure for the very first time.

You coo at him, leaning up to kiss his cheek, his jaw, his neck. “It’s okay, baby,” you whisper, hands roaming his sides and belly. “I’ll take care of you.”

He huffs again, this time more breathlessly. “It’s not you I’m worried about, I-I–”

“Shhh,” you soothe lips tracing a path of fire down his neck once more. “Just relax. You don’t have to worry with me.”

So he tries not to. He puts his concerns – that he won’t be good enough, that something about him will make you pull away disappointed – to the back of his mind, and he instead closes his eyes and chooses to feel.

Feel your fingers hooking into the waistband of his jeans and pushing them down his strong thighs.

Feel you help him step out of the denim before throwing it aside.

Feel your breath puff over his thinly clothed erection, only separated by the fabric of his tight boxer briefs. He hisses when he feels the heat of your exhale, letting his eyes open to see you gazing at the outline of his cock with a hunger so profound it leaves him speechless.

“You’re so big,” you say, your voice so filled with awe he might have laughed, if he wasn’t still so damn nervous.

Then you look up at him through your lashes and ask, “Can I take these off?” You tug at the elastic band of his underwear.

He nods wordlessly. Too fucking overwhelmed to even try to speak.

You dip your fingers beneath the waistband, slowly – achingly so – pulling his boxers down, your eyes following the line of pale hair down, down, your North Star until your breath catches in your throat when you unveil the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen. Blushed pink and already leaking precum, his length springs from its confines.

Your mouth is watering just looking at it.

And so you lean in, your lips just barely brushing his feverish skin, and he jumps beneath your touch, letting out a strangled groan. “Pretty girl,” he gasps, fingers tangling in your hair, and he can’t seem to decide whether to pull you closer or push you away.

“Relax,” you whisper, words vibrating against his cock, and he mewls, head hitting the wall as he throws it back. You smile softly, not moving away as you watch his expression. “You’re so sensitive, baby.”

Sensitive – of course he’s sensitive. He’s only ever fucked his own hand, so even the barest hint of the wet heat of your mouth is driving him crazy.

You were right; he couldn’t have imagined how this would feel. Not like this.

“Baby,” he gasps, the pet name tasting unfamiliar on his tongue as he says it, “baby, please.”

“Oh, such a pretty boy, begging already,” you croon, and then you slowly take him in your mouth.

He whines, the sound nearly a sob as you put your mouth on him. It’s so fucking good, so much better than when he fucks his hand. That toe-curling, eye-rolling heat makes him want to bust right then and there, right in your pretty little mouth.

He holds back, if only just.

You hum, and that nearly brings him to his knees, the vibration against his cock so goddamn good. You pull off with a pop, smiling up at him with a playful light in your eyes as you take him in your hand and start stroking, from base to tip. “That feel good, baby? Huh? You gonna cum already?”

He shakes his head, chest heaving, and his fingers dig into the wall behind him to try and hold on. He’s better than that, better than letting you down by cumming straight away. He has to think about anything else, anything besides the way your mouth envelopes him again while your hand drops to cup his balls, giving them a gentle squeeze. He’s not gonna cum yet, not even while you’re bobbing up and down his shaft, with your lips looking so damn pretty wrapped around him. His lips part as he watches you, and you put on a show for him, eyes still smiling up at him the whole time.

His eyes nearly cross as his dick hits the soft, sweltering tissue at the back of your throat.

A coil starts to wind in his gut, a familiar tension building that has his chest heaving. He reaches for purchase and finds your hair, fingers tangling in your tresses. He stammers your name, almost sounding panicked as his release quickly approaches, especially as you swirl your tongue so beautifully around his tip at the end of every stroke. “Baby,” he babbles, trying to pull you off, trying to warn you, but you won’t fucking listen. Instead you lean in, taking him further down your throat until he’s buried all the way to the hilt, and he cries out as his cock twitches–

And then he’s cumming.

It hits him all at once, that release, that relief of orgasm that makes his legs tremble. His hips stutter, shoving himself that much further into your mouth, pouring pearly seed down your throat.

You swallow, and he whimpers.

Finally, once you’ve sucked him dry and had your fill, you pop off of him and smile sweetly, like you didn’t just force an earth-shattering orgasm from him. “Feel okay, baby?”

If he had any energy left, he’d roll his eyes at you. But he just nods, dazed.

You gently stroke his thighs, helping soothe him and bring him back down from his release. Once he feels like his head is back on straight, he slowly blinks down at you, realizing your state of dress while he’s standing there, naked and exposed, wrung out from his orgasm.

“Your turn,” he says.

You giggle; he still looks boneless, bled dry by the overwhelming pleasure of your mouth. “It’s okay, baby; you don’t have to.”

“I want to,” he says. And then he’s on the move, his hands on your hips as he guides you towards your couch. He sits you down, and then he’s the one on his knees, and you have to hold back a gasp at the sight of him between your thighs.

“Teach me,” he says, stroking your thighs through your leggings. “Show me how to make you feel good.”

So you help him slowly pull off your pants, tossing them aside before he gazes at your lace panties – you must be a naughty thing, to wear something like that without knowing if he would even kiss you, let alone fuck you. He looks up at you, nervous and unsure, and you just smile down at him and stroke his hair as you part your legs further. “Gimme your hand,” you tell him.

He offers it to you without question. You take it, squeezing it lightly. Then you guide his fingers to your underwear, letting him feel the lace before dragging his fingertips down to the apex between your legs, right over your pussy.

His breath catches. You’re so wet already, drenched just from sucking his dick.

He doesn’t know much, but he knows that’s a good sign.

While you’re letting him feel how soaked you are, he leans in, eyes flickering up to yours to make sure it’s okay before he parts his lips and lets his tongue dart out to lick the wet fabric.

His eyes roll back, and then he’s just acting on instinct.

He wraps his arms around your thighs, yanking your hips towards him, upsetting your balance and causing you to squeak in surprise. But he doesn’t stop, he can’t, and he’s ravenous as he licks another stripe up the gusset of your panties, lapping up the residual arousal soaking the fabric.

He licks and sucks at your underwear until they’re stretched out and practically translucent with spit and arousal.

You’re breathing heavily and moaning when he finally pulls back, gazing up at you like he’s searching for feedback. You smile at him, the expression wobbly with pleasure, and tell him, “Good boy.”

His heart sings at the praise. His fingers dip beneath the edge of your underwear and curl, slowly dragging the fabric down your legs. His eyes immediately find their home between your legs, where your glistening pussy is on full display.

His breath catches; he’s never seen anything prettier. His cock twitches at the sight.

He leans in, his eyes flickering up to meet yours, and he wants so badly to ravage you, to make you feel as good as you made him feel.

“Teach me,” he says again, and this time he’s begging. “Please, I wanna make you feel good.”

“Just explore, first,” you tell him. “I’ll tell you when I want you to switch things up.”

So he takes a deep breath, eyes closing as he basks in your scent, before leaning in the last couple inches and licking a soft line up the seam of your cunt. You hum in pleasure, spreading your legs more for him, and he puts his hands on your thighs to hold you there as he licks again, and again, nice and slow, just tasting and exploring your outer lips. Then he nudges a little closer, his tongue pushing between your folds to find your delicious epicenter, and he lets out a soft groan, moaning into your cunt at the taste.

On the upstroke, his tongue bumps gently into your clit, and your hips jump at the sudden contact.

He perks up at the reaction – surely that was a good sign – and turns his focus there, lapping his tongue lightly against your clit. He feels your breath catch, and you moan quietly, head falling back against the couch.

“Right there,” you sigh, hips tilting forward to increase his pressure. “Good boy, right there.”

He whines at the praise, right into your dripping cunt, and flicks his tongue against your clit again, rubbing that same spot that makes you moan. When he grows eager, he wraps his lips around the bundle of nerves and lightly sucks, still moving his tongue against it, and oh that’s a good sound, you cry out like he’s never heard before.

It seems he’s slowly making you lose your composure.

He continues to slowly feast on you, eyes trained steadily on you as he watches to make sure you like – you love – everything he’s doing to you.

“Fuck,” you moan, back arching off the couch as you start to move your hips in time with his tongue. “Keep going, feels so good, baby. Please don’t stop.”

So he keeps going; he doesn’t change a goddamn thing as he rubs his tongue against your clit, sucking lightly, until you’re shaking and panting, hands curled in his thick white hair.

“I’m… I’m gonna cum,” your voice hitches, and your hips buck into his mouth. And then you’re cumming, hips riding against his face while your cunt clenches, and he follows your every movement to keep licking your clit, not wanting to let you go for a single second.

You moan his name, and it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard in his life.

You’re a breathless mess, a panting heap on the couch, and he’s never seen anything so debauched. You’ve always been so put together, so composed, and seeing you like this while he’s on his knees for you is something special he’ll never forget as long as he lives. His hands gently stroke your thighs, helping bring you down from your high, as your hazy eyes gaze into his.

Then, once you’ve caught your breath and come back to earth, you smile down at him and bite your lip. “Are you done for the night?” you ask quietly, voice gentle.

His heart clenches at the thought, that you’re being so considerate for his first time with you, with anyone. But he shakes his head, because no, he’s not done, he doesn’t want to stop, he wants to feel everything you offer. Because now that he’s had a taste, he’s greedy for it, he can’t let you go without touching you everywhere, without seeing it all.

So he stands, and he helps you up, kissing up and down your neck as he cradles the back of your head. “Please, show me more,” he pleads, “please, I need more of you.”

And who are you to deny him?

You lead him to the bedroom, and you gently push him down beneath you, both of you scooting upwards until his back hits the headboard. He’s gazing at you with such open, earnest eyes that you can’t help but want to give him everything. So you ease him back and climb on top, straddling his thighs. You watch his throat as he swallows harshly, watching you as you lean over to the bedside table to grab a small bottle and a condom.

You unwrap the condom and slowly slide it onto his hardening cock, and he hisses at the pleasure, at how overstimulated it still makes him feel, and then you pour slick, slippery liquid over the condom before reaching down and rubbing between your legs. You throw your head back as you touch yourself, lubing up your entrance before you take his impressive length inside.

Then you reach down and align his tip with your drenched pussy before slowly sinking down.

You both let out a gasping breath, heads bent over in ecstasy, watching your swollen lips take him in. Your lips are parted, breath hitching and breaking as you lower yourself onto him, and you feel like he’s hitting your lungs when you finally bottom out, hips meeting his.

You take a moment, a breather. Then you moan out, “Oh, Satoru, you feel so good.”

He keens at the praise, eyes locked on the spot where you’re connected. His pupils are blown wide with pleasure, and as soon as you start moving, he cries out again, jaw clenching as he throws his head back. “Nghh!”

“Shhh, no, baby,” you whisper, and you reach up to grab his jaw to force him to look at you. “Keep watching me.”

He whines again, but he does, gazing into your eyes as you move your hips up and down on top of him. Wet sounds of sex and pleasure fill the room, and he groans every movement, every sensation. His eyes flicker down, watching your tits bounce, listening to you talk him through it the entire time.

“Yeah, baby, that feel good? You like me on top, like me riding your big fucking cock?”

He just whines in response, nodding frantically. Afraid that if he doesn’t answer, you’ll stop, and god he’d rather die than lose these sensations. His hands hold your hips, not daring to guide, just holding on for dear life as you fuck him senseless.

Then, you smile, and he knows he’s done for. “You ready?” you ask.

Ready? Ready for what? There can’t possibly be anything else you could do to make this even better, to drive him any crazier, there can’t be– 

And then you lean forward, chest pressed against his, as you pick up the pace, your ass bouncing as you ride him so fucking fast it’s blinding.

“Ah! Baby, I-I can’t–” He feels his balls tighten, his belly clench, and he’s fighting it off as best he can, and his fingers dig into the plush flesh at your hips.

You’re panting softly as you reach down between you, circling your fingers over your clit. “Yes you can,” you say, encouraging him on. “Cum for me, pretty boy. Show it to me.”

And he can’t deny you– He cums, emptying himself into the condom as you continue riding him. And then, before he can go soft, you’re cumming, too, squeezing around him so hard his vision goes white and he chokes–

Finally, your hips stutter to a stop, and you just lay there for a moment, basking in the afterglow as your breaths mingle. It’s quiet between you for a long moment, both of you coming back to earth. Then you pull away to meet his eyes, and he looks back at you, blinking.

“Jesus,” he breathes, and that’s all he can say.

You giggle. “You okay?” you whisper, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

He nods, a little dazed. He’s coming back to his body now, and he realizes what a night he’s had, how much you’ve given him. He can hear the quiet rain pattering against the window, and he can’t believe that more time hasn’t passed; surely the universe must have changed around him, losing himself in you like that.

He wonders if he’s supposed to leave, now, to go collect his clothes and kiss you good night before stepping out into that rain and heading home. But you just rest your head against his shoulder, humming softly to yourself, and he can’t hide his smile as he wraps his arms around you, tucking you close against his chest.

“Thank you,” he says.

You smile into his skin, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. “You don’t have to thank me. It’s my pleasure to teach you.”

He hums. “It sounds like I have a lot left to learn,” he jokes softly.

You grin up at him and roll him over so he’s on top of you. “Oh,” you purr, leaning up to kiss his cheek, “you have no idea.”

He huffs a laugh and meets your lips with his. Letting the rain cover all the sounds he’s about to pull from you.

He’s always been a quick study.

thanks for reading! -luna xx link to ao3

(taglist: @utopianstarsus-blog) (it's been a very long time so sorry if this is a surprise or ur confused lmao)

[ejudollz]

📼 matcha powder - murata fuma .MP4

🐇ᯓ★ tape contents ⋆˚𖦹 fuma isn't normally the type to be submissive in a relationship, however you saw that as a challenge. things are so new for fuma but he's so willing to try things out for you. you're making it your mission to turn him into the most perfect sub.

𐙚🧸 content warnings ₊˚⊹ ᰔ 18+, sub fuma, dom reader, f reader, light subspace, edging, mentions of safe words (not used), usage of colors, finger sucking, nipple play, unprotected sex, cumming inside, fuma gets called bunny (he's me 😳), bunny doesn't know how to end fics pls tune out right before it ends, wc / 3,173

🐰ᯓᡣ𐭩 authors note ⋆˚ finally.. she writes.. it's been so long since i have written anything and this is my first full length fic on this blog and actually for &team in general!! im so excited to finally be sharing something that im at least semi proud of and im excited to fully showcase how i see the boys in my own characterization!! i hope you all enjoy and i hope to write more soon!! / ©byshens (layout)

fuma’s thoughts fog over in a way he'd never felt before. this wasn't a usual feeling of mental exhaustion or a simple mind slip.. instead, this was something very unfamiliar, something he wasn’t used to in the slightest. his hands gripped at the sheets beneath him, a low groan refocusing him on the scene before him. 

this was so new for him, he was torn between feeling scared, anxious, unsure.. he didn’t even know if he should be intrigued and aroused, maybe all of the above? honestly he couldn't even make out what the current feeling was that possessed him.

his body was exhausted, needing and craving release so badly, he’d never craved such a simple sensation so badly before. normally he'd be able to handle a lot sexually, but giving up his sense of control proved to be very different in all ways possible. 

fuma's was single for a bit of time, more focused on his career and his goals than anything else. he wanted to perfect his craft, build his body while he was still young, and achieve milestones in any way he could. 

although he’d been single for quite a while he can recall the way he usually takes on a role where he's in control. normally he's the type to take care of his partner, both in the relationship as well as sexually and that’s what he had gotten used to. he loves it, he's a giver at heart and feels very fulfilled doing so. however, you provided something different, you showed him something new, something he never thought he would take part in. fuma was able to explore different aspects of himself sexually which provided him with new feelings and sensations. 

nobody has ever made fuma feel the way that you do. not even in a cliche romantic way either, he has literally never been able to cum as hard as he does when you're touching him and taking care of him. when your hands are in his hair and working over his body it feels like his body isn’t even his anymore.  

you never imagined you'd make it this far with him, it brings you this sense of power looking at the boy in front of you. you'd never heard him sound like this before, his voice breathy and raspy, every noise sounding almost like a gasp slipping past his lips. now fuma’s a vocal person, he has been since you started having sex with him but he hasn’t let noises this sweet sounding pass his lips before. 

fuma has been so good for you since he decided to let you take over, you knew it would be a lot of responsibility to have someone like him in your control. you assumed he’d be a sweetheart, but he fully gives himself to you, his curiosity always allowing you to do as you please. it was shocking just how willing he is to allow you this much control. you've come to find out that he's so pretty when vulnerable and his body had so much to offer. 

you flicked your finger over his nipple, smiling at the way he bit down on his lip, furrowing his eyebrows tightly. you'd edged him quite a few times already, his cock and face flushing similar shades of red. he was sat directly in front of you, fully unclothed and exposed to you. part of him wanted to press his thighs together but the other part of him so badly wanted to be seen. anyone can tell he’s got such a beautiful body but being on display for you, having his body readily accessible like this was so different. 

fuma loves the contrast of you being clothed while he was out on display like this, he loved the restraint of not seeing you fully and having to rely on his imagination of what’s under your clothes. the contrast heightens the feeling of you having more of an advantage over him and it immerses him even more in the scene.

“my pretty bunny.. just so needy, aren’t you?” you notice the way fuma’s gaze is a bit hazy, his eyes unfocused as he looks at you. he nods eagerly, swallowing hard with an exasperated noise. you smiled at him and cupped his face, not missing the way he nuzzles into your touch a bit. he’s just so obedient, you can’t even believe the sight in front of you.

your hand was wrapped steadily around his thick length, you tightened your grip on him slightly as you looked into his eyes. “fuma.. focus for me baby.. gonna make you feel good okay?” his hands searched for you to brace himself, he gripped at your thigh gently and breathed out a shaky breath, just barely remembering to nod at the end. 

he couldn’t fully focus no matter how hard he tried, his breathing was a bit laboured and his body was seeming more tired than normal. “you doing okay bun? need a break?” fuma’s the type to keep taking everything you give him so graciously without putting himself first. having him as your sub required you to take care of him in ways that others may not require but you were more than happy to do so.

he just shook his head but you released his length, holding his chin up and helping his gaze find yours with the hand that was just wrapped around him. it was so lewd and a little dirty but it drove fuma even crazier once he thought about it fully. “use your words. are you okay? do you need me to stop for a little bit?” you’d never seen him get like this, he’s normally able to hold himself together with ease. while he looked sexy like this you are aware of how new this is for him so you were being extra cautious.

the boy in front of you gave a slight dopey smile, which made you laugh. he shook his head in your grasp, “mm.. wanna keep going..” you nodded at this, but began stalling the slightest bit, just to give him a small break anyways. you wordlessly placed a hand to his chest and gently pushed him down flat on the bed. you were sat beside the boy just watching him process his surroundings. fuma stared up at the ceiling for a second, blinking dumbly before turning his head towards you, he looked so pretty and fucked out right now. 

his hands slowly came to your arm, wrapping around the wrist of your hand that had previously been teasing him so much. you just watched him, holding eye contact as he slowly lifted your fingers up to his mouth. he’d never done this before, your eyes widened as he slipped your middle and ring finger past his lips. you nearly moaned at this as he began softly sucking and moaning around your fingers. you could feel the bass of his voice vibrating on your skin. 

“ohh.. such a good boy, fuma..” you played in his hair for a moment, taking in the way he stared up at you with his pretty round sparkly eyes. his hair strands were stickling to his forehead slightly, sweat beading up on his forehead. you decided to test the waters, your fingers slightly pressing down against his tongue as you scratched gently along his chest with your free hand. he shuddered under you a bit, you could tell you caught him a little off guard by the way he bit down slightly on your fingers. fuma rolled his hips up into nothing, his body squirmed senselessly at the throbbing between his legs. 

“should i touch you now? tell me how much you want it..” you noticed fuma's desperation rising so you decided it's time to finally give him what he so badly needs. 

“please..” he nods his head quickly, his words coming out muffled around your fingers. you waited for more but he stopped, trying to keep the saliva in his mouth from slipping out all around your fingers. 

you retracted your hand, allowing whatever he was trying to keep in to drip out. “hm.. must not want it that bad. maybe we should stop here?” you wiped your fingers on the bed beside fuma, faking like you were going to stand up. 

“no! please.. mm.. want it so bad.. need it.. please..” fuma appeared frantic and his voice matched his appearance. his eyes were round and full of need, you almost felt bad for joking with him like that. he looked completely disheveled and he reached for you, holding onto your arm to keep you from leaving. “i need you, y/n.” 

“okay bunny.. i'll take care of you.. what do you say if we need to stop?” he lights up a bit, his chest rising and falling quickly, “pineapple..” you nod with a smile, almost like you’re showing him that you’re proud.

“how do you want me to make you cum? i'll let you pick since you were such a good boy.” you slightly sink your nails into the skin of his thigh, dragging your nails downward as you waited for him to speak. 

every little touch was a challenge for him, he couldn't focus with your hands anywhere on him. he squeezed his eyes shut and sighed heavily, trying to refocus the fog that takes over his mind currently. he's so cute like this, he just seems so so pathetic. 

“wanna be inside of you.. wanna feel you.. please..” you nod at him while you stand up, facing fuma who's eyes won't leave your body. he’s so attentive to you, eyes hooded and so focused on every one of your movements. if he weren’t so foggy in the head he would be praising you for everything you do.

fuma attempts to sit up, normally he helps you get undressed.. he loves being able to feel your skin and slowly peel your clothes off of your body. but this time you stop him, telling him to just let you show off for him for a moment. he blinks slowly at you, sitting up on his elbows as best as he can so he doesn’t miss a single moment of what’s happening in front of him.

you move slowly as you get undressed, just the way fuma likes it. he loves the suspense of your skin slowly becoming more visible to him. you start with your bottoms, hooking your thumbs under the fabric of your pants, leaving your underwear untouched. slowly, you work your way out of your bottoms. fuma’s eyes fall to your hips, drool pooling in his mouth immediately. his eyes are locked on your panties, its one of his favorite pairs that were so patiently waiting to be revealed to him.

you threw your pants to the side and climbed on the bed with him, once again placing a hand on fuma’s muscular chest, but this time to brace yourself. you wasted no time resting your weight in his lap, noticing the way he sucks in a breath at the slight friction you caused. 

he stares up at you with big round eyes, so patiently waiting for you to say something. “undress me.” fuma moved quicker than you could finish your sentence, hands moving under your shirt and resting on your hips. his hands are big and on the rougher side, you shivered at the feeling of his skin on yours. 

he looked into your eyes as he pulled your shirt off of your body, biting his bottom lip a bit when he looked back down to your chest. he pulled you close, nose pressing against your body as he breathed in the scent of your body wash and perfume. he groaned against you, hands moving up your body and finding the hook of your bra. fuma’s eyes were closed as he rested against your chest, his cheek felt so soft on you.

the clasp of your bra came undone, fuma’s nails gently ran over your skin at this. he was taking every moment possible to admire you, to enjoy this closeness. fuma snuck in a few kisses, peppering small pecks against your chest before pulling away and revealing your breasts to himself. his breath hitches in his throat as he stares, your bra quickly being discarded elsewhere. 

“please..” his voice is a mere whisper, almost like he was trying not to let you hear him. “please what?” you run your hands through his hair, holding him close to you. he seems a little puzzled, like he was shocked that you heard him. he swallowed hard before speaking, “please ride me..”

you wordlessly lift up in his lap, running your fingers through your warm wet folds. you’d gotten quite turned on by this point as well. you pulled your panties to the side, lining yourself up with fuma’s tip. he could feel the heat radiating off of you, he couldn’t take it already, he needed you so bad. 

you push your fingers into his mouth, allowing him to taste the sweetness that coated your fingers. he groaned around your fingers, torn between shutting his eyes and watching you line yourself up. with your free hand you rubbed his leaking tip between your folds, letting out a moan in unison with fuma’s muffled noises. he closes his mouth a little harder around your fingers, bracing himself a bit for what he’s so desperately wanted.

you sink down on fuma’s cock, your gummy walls instantly pulsating around his thicker shaft. you gasp at the feeling, not previously realizing how sensitive you’d feel. fuma groans, his eyes shutting and his body tensing under you. you fully bottom out on top of him, sitting with him fully inside of you. you pull your fingers from fuma’s mouth and look in his eyes once more.

fuma’s expression his perfect, his eyes are sparkling, his lips are plump and swollen, his face is slightly covered by his fringe, but its clear enough for you to still see him. he looks absolutely euphoric right now as you move your fingers into his hair. 

you tug slightly, using the grip you have on his hair in order to control things better. your hips roll in fuma's lap, the feeling of him inside of you making you moan out. 

finally you start moving, slowly dragging yourself up and down his length. fuma’s hands fly to your hips, his hands immediately gripping at your skin. he craved this moment so much, his whines and gasps showed you this so much. 

you waste no time picking up your pace, the sound of you slamming down in fuma's lap fills the room. he leans forward into you, grasping at you anyway that he could. he couldn't hold himself together no matter how hard he tried. you let go of his hair, placing kisses all over his face and hearing the way he whines. 

his upper half suddenly felt too heavy for him to hold himself up. he rested his body fully, hands tangling in his own hair to replace your own hands. his hands fall from your hips, gripping at the sheets instead. 

this is the fastest fuma has come undone under you, his body tensing up and his moans getting caught in his throat. “cu.. c..” his voice trails off into moans each time he tries to talk but it's clear what he's trying to say. 

you place your hand around his throat, applying the tiniest amount of pressure. his moans sound gritty and rough, the volume of his voice finally catching up to him. he swallows hard a couple of times, trying to get his voice out again. 

“go ahead bunny.. fill me up.. let it go, handsome..” fuma fully malfunctions at your words, it feels like his brain short circuits in this moment. he sucks in a breath and doesn't let go, body stiffening up once again under you. 

you feel his warm cum begin to fill your walls, his cock twitching inside of you. a high pitched whine finally comes out of him, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. 

he starts breathing ruggedly, his hips stuttering slightly. you don't stop moving, helping him fully finish his orgasm. fuma's sweating and breathless, so pretty under you. you let him catch his breath a tiny bit, watching as he swallows hard. 

you run your hand up and down his chest, smiling so sweetly, “gotta use you just a little more..” you begin to pick your pace up once again, hips very slowly moving. fuma's cum is dripping out, pooling in his lap below you. 

it takes him a second to reply, he's looking up at the ceiling again, a content expression on his face. “sorry.. came too fast..” you shook your head even though he wasn't looking at you, “it's okay.. doing so well for me. what's your color baby?” 

he looks at you now, still smiling slightly, “green.. wanna see you cum..” you admired his strong he was being.. takes everything so graciously and is always ready for more. 

you let out a sound of approval, gently rocking your hips back and forth in his lap. fuma bites his lip, eyebrows furrowed tight on his forehead. your clit was throbbing at this point, you wanted to cum so bad now. 

you start to move up and down his length once again, grabbing fuma's hand and moving it to your clit. he starts sloppily rubbing circles on your clit, eager to make you feel good. you let out a satisfied moan, fuma's cum providing yourself extra lubricant. your pussy glides over him so easily, his thumb working on you. you feel your orgasm start to bubble up in your stomach. 

it doesn't take much longer for your orgasm to fully hit you, your pussy clenching around fuma. you're moaning as you ride out your orgasm, leaning down to place your lips on fuma's. he's moaning into your mouth as you ride him, his hands running over your body. 

you lean forward against him, catching your breath and letting your orgasm wash over you. he's still inside but you just stay like this for a while, listening to your own heartbeat. the boy brings his arms around you, holding you tight and keeping you close to him. this moment is weirdly comforting and reassuring. 

silence fills the room but it's not uncomfortable, you both just lay there and take everything in. fuma is turning out to be the most perfect sub, much better than you had originally expected. you couldn't wait to further mold him into the perfect boy for you. 

you lift up to admire fuma's features.. you're really so lucky to have him. he stares back at you with that same goofy smile from earlier, “i love you so much y/n..” you giggle at the sudden confession as you caress his face, “i love you more fuma.” you lean down to place a kiss on his lips, you couldn't ask for anything better.

[kathlare]

when you look me in the eyes

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Amelie returns to the paddock for the first time since the world turned upside down, bringing with her an unexpected surprise.

Wordcount: 4.3 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

July 5th, 2020 - Spielberg, Austria

liked by gridgirlsupreme, sunshinef1baby, and others

f1gossiphq: SHE’S BACK. Amelie Dayman was spotted arriving at the paddock this morning in Austria for race day — her first appearance inside the paddock since pre-pandemic days (yep, it’s been that long 🥹). The queen of gridwalk fits has officially returned and we are so here for it.

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lanfan98: she walked in and the air changed → maxielmafia: @lanfan98 the way even the sun adjusted lighting for her 😭 → gridgossipgirl: @lanfan98 Lando looked nervous and that says enough

dayman_dollz: she back in the paddock like she never left 🔥 → 44butmakeitfashion: @dayman_dollz they had to hit a global pause just to prepare for her return 💅🏼

gridgirlsupreme: joshua bassett who??? she’s back on home turf → ameliesleftboot: @gridgirlsupreme “i’m not a driver but i could ruin a championship” energy

softforlanmelie: she stepped out like she knew the lanmelie agenda needed CPR → landoonfilm: @softforlanmelie we’re EATING today omg

gpfitarchive: 2 years away and she still understood the assignment better than 90% of the grid → checostwinflame: @gpfitarchive she’s the real paddock return we were waiting for

lanlover03: lando probably did a backflip when he saw her walk in

wagsupreme: the paddock just got 110% more aesthetic → alexfangirl99: @wagsupreme now do a fit check pls i’m begging

alexfanboy1999: she’s friends with everyone i wanna be her SO BAD → iamliterallyyuki: @alexfanboy1999 same but i also wanna date her. respectfully.

carlosstanclub: i know she's just “friends” with the boys but she walked in and every man in the paddock lost structural integrity → danielricyes: @carlosstanclub LMAOO NOT STRUCTURAL INTEGRITY 💀💀💀

f1sluttycorner: the queen has arrived 😭✨ → landoforever: @f1sluttycorner she’s literally the reason I even watched f1 before the boys joined the paddock → amelienslovers: @f1sluttycorner same, no one made the paddock more fun

f1fanaticx: no but like she’s literally glowing and I’m not talking about the sun

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

The second Amelie stepped into the paddock, arm looped through Joshua’s something in her chest fluttered. The Austrian Grand Prix. The first race weekend back since the world turned upside down. The air still smelled like motorsport and adrenaline, but now it had the added scent of sanitiser and the strange, quiet tension of a half-empty paddock.

Joshua leaned in toward her, murmuring through his mask —This is kinda surreal, huh? Like we’re walking through a movie set or something.—

—Yeah,— she whispered, scanning the garages —kinda feels like I’m dreaming. I haven’t been here since march.—

She was trying to make her way toward the Racing Point garage to find Stella and Checo before things got chaotic. But she barely took three steps before...

—AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!—

—WHAT THE FUUUUUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!— another voice shrieked over the first.

Two very large, very fast-moving bodies launched themselves at her from behind. Arms wrapped around her middle and lifted her clean off the ground while someone else grabbed her shoulders from the other side, squeezing her in a sandwich of sheer chaos.

Amelie screamed. Joshua yelped and jumped back.

—OH MY GODDDDDDDDDD IT’S YOU IT’S REALLY YOUUUU— came from her right.

—YOU’RE TINY, HOLY SHIT, I THOUGHT YOU WERE TALLER— from the left.

She twisted in their grip to find George and Alex grinning so hard their masks were crinkling at the edges. Eyes sparkling. Faces completely manic.

—WHAT THE FUCK— Amelie wheezed, absolutely stunned —YOU GUYS ARE REAL.—

George laughed and spun her once before dropping her back down. —You thought we were catfish, huh? Bet you thought we were just voices with good Wi-Fi.—

Alex shoved George aside and threw his arms around her again. —LAN’S GONNA FUCKING DIE.—

—Wait, Lando doesn’t know I’m here yet,— she giggled, hugging him back, adrenaline now making her face hot under her mask.

—He doesn’t know?— George shouted, scandalised. —You evil little goblin. You didn’t tell him?!—

Joshua blinked behind them, clearly trying to process what was happening. —Um... hi,— he said politely.

Alex glanced over. —Oh, you’re the popstar boyfriend.—

—Joshua Bassett,— Amelie introduced quickly, looping her arm through his again. —Alex, George... this is Josh.—

—Nice to meet you,— Joshua said, smiling despite the shock.

—You poor man,— George muttered dramatically. —You don’t stand a chance. We’re keeping her now.—

Amelie rolled her eyes. —Okay, shut up, I was literally walking to find my sister and you two tackled me like linebackers.—

Alex bounced on his heels. —No, no, no, you’re coming with us. Breakfast. Paddock Club. No arguing.—

Before she could respond, both of them grabbed her and Joshua and started dragging them toward the glass building overlooking the paddock, laughing like idiots.

—Wait... guys... my sister...!— she tried.

—Your sister can wait,— George said with a grin. —You’re our problem now.—

They ended up seated at a table on the terrace outside, plates full of fruit and croissants and espresso cups clinking against saucers. The sun was warming the tiles, and the view of the paddock below was perfect.

Amelie was perched between Alex and Joshua, legs crossed, she nibbled on a piece of melon and tried not to laugh too loud at Alex recounting the time Lando fell asleep mid-sim race stream.

—And he snored. On stream. Like fully. Thousands of people watching.—

George nodded solemnly. —We have videos.—

Amelie grinned, cheeks aching. —Oh my god, I need to see them.—

Meanwhile, below them on the other end of the paddock, Lando strolled through the gates with Carlos, both of them masks on, coffee in hand, chatting about tyre strategy and breakfast options.

—Honestly, I don’t care if the tyres last or not, I just want a bagel,— Carlos was saying.

Lando chuckled, kicking a loose pebble as they walked. —You’re obsessed with bagels lately, mate. It’s weird.—

—Don’t judge me for my cravings,— Carlos replied, raising his espresso cup to his lips. —You Brits just don’t understand flavour.—

Lando rolled his eyes, gaze lazily flicking across the paddock… and then he froze.

Mid-step. Mid-breath.

His heart? Gone. Stopped. Dead.

His coffee nearly slipped from his hand.

There she was.

Her.

Amelie.

Sitting up in the Paddock Club terrace, sunlight in her hair like it was placed there on purpose. Mask half-lowered to take a sip of espresso, legs folded neatly, surrounded by George and Alex — and right next to her, that guy. That fucking guy. Joshua-fucking-Bassett.

Lando blinked hard like the sun had tricked him. But no. She was real. She was here.

—You okay, bro?— Carlos asked, glancing over.

Lando’s jaw clenched. He forced a breath out of his nose. —Didn’t think she was coming.—

Carlos followed Lando’s gaze, squinting through the glass and sunlight. The second he caught sight of what had turned Lando into a statue, a slow, shit-eating grin spread beneath his mask.

—Ah.— Carlos drawled. —So that’s why you wore your hair nicer today. You hoped she’d magically show up.—

Lando tore his eyes away and resumed walking, a little too fast. —Shut up.—

—No, no, don’t be shy now,— Carlos teased, catching up with an easy stride. —It’s your girlfriend.—

—She’s not my girlfriend,— Lando hissed, flushing under his mask. —We’re just friends.—

Carlos snorted. —Yeah, and I’m just a guy who accidentally wins quali sometimes. Come on, mate. Don’t lie to me. You’ve been in love with her since 2018. Even before you knew her. I remember you showed me one of her stupid magazine covers in the hotel lobby in Baku like, ‘I’m gonna marry her someday, bro.’—

Lando groaned. —Why do you remember everything?—

—Because your pining is the only romantic comedy I’ve had this whole pandemic,— Carlos said. —And it’s a good one. Like, Oscar-worthy.—

Up on the terrace, Amelie laughed at something George said, head tossed back, hair shimmering. Lando glanced up again, and the ache in his chest did a little somersault.

Joshua reached over and wiped something from her cheek — probably crumbs, nothing — but it made Lando want to throw himself off the pit building.

He hated that fucking guy.

Carlos let out a low whistle beside him. —Oof. He touched her face, dude. That’s intimate.—

Lando scowled behind his mask. —He got a crumb. That’s not intimate, that’s hygienic.—

—Right, right, my bad,— Carlos said, mock-serious. —Still. Looks like he’s very good at being hygienic. Super thoughtful. Good boyfriend material, yeah?—

Lando shot him a death glare. —Shut. The fuck. Up.—

Carlos raised his hands in surrender, but the grin beneath his mask didn’t budge. —Whatever you say, lover boy.—

Carlos kept teasing, but Lando’s brain wasn’t even processing words anymore. All he could focus on was her. Amelie. His Amelie—except she wasn’t, not really. Not officially. Not in any way that actually counted. And now here she was, beautiful and chaotic and completely unexpected, sitting next to the one person on earth Lando genuinely wanted to punch in the throat.

He inhaled through his nose, sharp and shallow. Her laugh floated down again. God, he’d missed that sound.

She looked happy. Like really happy. Comfortable. Glowing. Laughing at George’s jokes, stealing a strawberry from Alex’s plate like it was her own, her knee brushing against Joshua’s as they sat way too close.

Carlos was watching Lando with that smug look like he was filming a live episode of Lando’s Emotional Downfall: Bitch Edition.

—You gonna go say hi, or just stand here like a sad Victorian orphan?— Carlos asked, sipping his espresso.

—She didn’t even tell me she was coming,— Lando muttered, jaw clenched tight. —Said she had filming. That’s why she didn’t text much this week.—

Carlos shrugged. —Maybe it was a surprise. Or maybe she didn’t want to see you.—

Lando elbowed him. Hard.

Carlos laughed anyway. —Kidding! Kind of.—

Up on the terrace, Amelie leaned back in her chair, one arm hooked lazily over the back of it as she looked out over the paddock. Her gaze swept over the people, the trucks, the garages—and then paused.

Her eyes landed on him.

They froze.

Lando blinked, unsure if she was really looking at him through the layers of glass and sunlight. But then her lips curled up, slow and unmistakable, into a smile that reached her eyes.

She lifted her hand and gave the tiniest wave.

Lando’s insides collapsed.

He waved back—awkwardly, stupidly—but his heart picked up speed like he was going into fucking quali.

Joshua leaned over and said something in her ear, making her smile again, and Lando immediately hated him more. He didn’t even know why he disliked the guy so much. Okay—no. He knew exactly why. Because he had Amelie’s attention. Because Amelie let him sit next to her and wipe crumbs off her face and probably knew the passcode to her phone.

Lando was snapped out of his spiraling by Carlos slapping a hand to his back.

—Go up there, say hi, act normal.—

—Normal? I’m dying.—

—Then die pretty. Put your mask on straight, you look like a dumbass.—

Lando adjusted the strap, heart still racing as he walked alongside Carlos toward the paddock club elevators. The nerves twisted in his stomach like snakes.

He could already hear George yelling through the glass before they even opened the terrace doors.

—OH MY GODDDDD, IT’S HIM. HE’S COMING. HE’S WALKING UP RIGHT NOW.—

Alex was halfway to standing. —LANNNDOOOO.—

Amelie twisted in her seat, beaming.

Lando stopped just past the threshold, giving a little wave. —Hey.—

Alex practically tackled him with a hug. —Bro, you’re late. You missed the reunion of the year.—

—You could’ve warned me she was coming,— Lando mumbled as George followed up with his own hug that was more like a rugby tackle.

George just grinned. —We didn’t know either. She lied. She’s sneaky.—

Joshua stood up and gave a very diplomatic nod. —Lando.—

—Joshua,— Lando replied, as neutrally as possible.

A beat passed. The tension? Thick enough to cut with a dull spoon.

Amelie stood and pulled her mask back up, her eyes dancing. —Surprise.—

Lando looked at her. Really looked. God, she looked like summer and softness and the kind of thing that hurt just from existing. Her eyes sparkled even through the mask. He hated how much he missed her. How much he liked her.

—You said you were filming,— he said, stepping forward.

—Was. Wrapped early.— Her shoulder lifted in a shrug. —Thought I’d come watch some cars go in circles.—

Lando huffed a laugh. —Well. Welcome back.—

She tilted her head. —Didn’t think I’d come?—

He hesitated. Then: —Didn’t think you’d bring him.—

Joshua raised his brows, but said nothing.

Amelie caught the tone and gave a little smirk behind her mask. —Jealous, Lan?—

—Of what? A guy who sings about heartbreak and drinks green juice? Never.—

—You do drink green juice,— George pointed out helpfully.

—Irrelevant.—

They all sat again—Lando pulled up a chair across from Amelie, though George immediately wedged himself between them with an obnoxious grin.

—So, Amelie was just telling us she hasn’t seen a race in person since last year,— Alex said. —We’re her first pit stop back.—

—More like her interception,— Joshua muttered, but Amelie nudged his leg gently.

Lando kept glancing at her, heart rate refusing to settle. The way she sat with ease, like she belonged. The way she joked with George and Alex like she’d known them forever. The way the sunlight caught on her earrings. God, he was so fucked.

Carlos arrived minutes later, coffee refilled, and immediately dropped into the seat next to Lando like he was watching a drama unfold.

—So... Amelie. Long time no see.—

—Carlos!— she grinned. —I haven’t seen you since Australia, right?—

Carlos nodded. —I hear you’re breaking hearts again.—

Amelie laughed, but Lando nearly choked on his croissant.

George leaned in. —We were just saying Lan’s gonna combust when she walks into the garage later.—

Lando grumbled. —I’m fine.—

Alex smirked. —Sure. That’s why your ears are red, huh?—

—Shut up.—

Amelie stretched her arms, sipping her coffee again as if she didn’t just have everyone wrapped around her finger.

Joshua’s hand brushed hers under the table. Lando noticed. Lando hated it.

The breakfast had been a whirlwind of laughter, teasing, and half-hearted threats from George and Alex about never letting Amelie leave the paddock club again. As the sun began to climb higher, casting a golden hue over everything, the group slowly made their way out of the club and towards the garages.

Amelie was still processing the fact that she was standing in the paddock at all — especially after everything that had happened with the pandemic and how long it had been since she’d last been here. She could feel the adrenaline of it all, that familiar hum of excitement in her veins.

—Let’s go, kiddos,— Alex said, bumping George with his shoulder as they walked toward the Red Bull garage. —See you around, Ames.— He threw a wink over his shoulder.

—Good luck with the weirdos,— George added with a grin, his hand flung out dramatically toward Lando, who was walking with Carlos just ahead of them.

Amelie rolled her eyes. —I’m surrounded by children,— she said, but the playful smile didn’t leave her face as she nudged Joshua.

Joshua chuckled, squeezing her shoulder as they continued their walk. They were approaching the Racing Point garage now, and Amelie could see Stella and Checo waiting near the entrance, chatting with a few members of the team.

But as they walked closer, something tugged at her chest. She paused mid-step, a glance shifting over to Lando. He was walking with Carlos, laughing about something, his usual easy grin on full display. She couldn’t help but smile, even though the knot in her stomach was pulling tight again.

Joshua noticed she stopped and raised an eyebrow. —You good?—

Amelie nodded, her eyes still locked on Lando. Without thinking, she broke away from the group, walking toward him.

Lando didn’t notice at first, still in conversation with Carlos, but as Amelie approached, he glanced over and froze when he saw her. He instantly tensed, a look of surprise flickering across his face before it shifted into something softer — almost hopeful.

She caught his gaze and smiled, that familiar playful glint in her eyes. —Hey, good luck today,— she said, the words slipping out naturally.

Lando opened his mouth to respond, but she was already standing close enough that, before he could say anything, Amelie pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

The second her lips brushed against his skin, Lando's breath caught in his throat. It was light, almost innocent, but it sent a jolt through him. A shiver ran down his spine, and for a second, time seemed to stretch. The sound of the paddock faded away, leaving just the two of them in that moment.

She pulled back, her smile now a little more mischievous. —You'll do great,— she added, her voice low enough that only he could hear.

Lando’s heart was still racing when he finally found his voice. —Thanks,— he whispered, his eyes not leaving hers for a moment longer than necessary.

He was still processing the fact that she’d kissed him at all, let alone like that. It wasn’t anything big or dramatic — just a small gesture — but it felt like everything. His chest tightened, and as she turned to walk away, he watched her go, suddenly feeling more certain than ever that the day was going to go well.

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

liked by f1gossipqueen, george_the_good_guy, and others

lanmelieforever: THE MOMENT WE’VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR. Lando and Amelie were spotted having breakfast with the rest of the guys (and Joshua 👀) at the paddock today! It’s the first time we’ve gotten HD photos of them together and... can we just talk about the vibes?? 😩🍳

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f1racingdreamer: Omg they’re ACTUALLY sitting next to each other 😭💖 finally, the moment we’ve all been waiting for!!!

maxspaghetti: Is it just me or do they literally look like they’re dating? 👀 → alexlovesbanter: @maxspaghetti same, I’m calling it— they’re not fooling anyone.

f1fancyfan: OK BUT CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW CUTE LANDO AND AMELIE LOOK TOGETHER?? 😭💖 → georgelemonade: @f1fancyfan they have that “we’ve been hiding this for years” energy 🤡

f1gossipqueen: Joshua’s sitting RIGHT THERE. But we all know who Amelie’s real breakfast date is. 😏 → lanmelieforever: @f1gossipqueen don’t we all... It’s Lando, always has been, always will be. 👀

sundownf1: JUST FRIENDS? I’m not buying it. → charleslemonade: @sundownf1 Same, it’s all about those stolen glances when they think no one’s watching 😬

paddockqueen: Ugh, finally we get HD photos of these two together. Too cute for words! 😍 → lanmelieforever: @paddockqueen like we’ve all been STARVING for this moment, right?! 😩🙌

f1lovers09: Still in denial that Joshua's there. Are we just pretending that Lando isn't the obvious choice?? → f1fanatic88: @f1lovers09 right?! He's been in love with her since forever, we all see it.

lanmelie_mania: I’m not saying they’re dating... but I’m ALSO not saying they’re not. 🤭 → f1babe97: @lanmelie_mania Yeah, the vibe is way too strong for them to just be “friends” 💀

f1.sluttycorner: ok but did we REALLY need to wait this long for HD pics of them together?! like?? 🔥🔥 → george_the_good_guy: @f1.sluttycorner it’s the longest game of “are they or aren’t they” ever. but my heart’s happy now.

lanmeliefan99: ok but can we talk about how they just LOOK like a couple?? I’m SCREAMING 🤭💥

f1.secretlycrying: I don’t think I’ve breathed since I saw these pics… IS THIS FINALLY IT?? → lanmelieforever: @f1.secretlycrying WE CAN ONLY HOPE.

sassy_melanie: am I the only one who’s still convinced they’re just REALLY good at playing this game? 🤔 → lanmeliefan_: @sassy_melanie nope, YOU’RE NOT. But it’s cute, right? 😏

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

The race was over, but the adrenaline still buzzed through the air like static.

The Austrian Grand Prix had been chaos — messy, unpredictable, everything Formula 1 wasn’t supposed to be in the middle of a global pandemic. No fans. No flags. No thunderous cheers. Just masked engineers, gloved mechanics, and a strange, sterile silence pierced only by engine roars and garbled radio messages.

But then... Lando fucking Norris. P3.

And Amelie was running.

She didn’t care about protocol. Didn’t care that Stella had told her to wait. Didn’t care that she was technically not supposed to be in the parc fermé area. She just needed to see him.

She shoved past the last barrier, heart racing faster than the McLarens had all afternoon. Her shoes slapped the concrete, eyes burning, throat tight with emotion.

Up on the podium, Bottas stood tall in first, champagne bottle in hand, grinning like a man who already knew he’d never hear the end of it from Toto. Charles was beside him, P2, sweat-damp curls stuck to his forehead, eyes crinkling behind his mask.

And then, there was Lando.

Still in his overalls, soaked in sticky champagne, hair flattened, face glowing. P3.

His first F1 podium.

Her chest cracked open like glass under pressure.

The second the corks popped and the spray started, she stopped a few meters short of the podium platform, heart in her throat. She laughed through the tears as they all turned into children — Charles spraying Lando, Lando spinning away from Bottas, shrieking through giggles as the cold liquid hit his neck.

It was stupid and pure and perfect.

And somehow, through the chaos, Charles spotted her first.

He jogged down from the platform just as the others were tossing champagne-soaked towels toward the side. His eyes softened, and he moved in to hug her, then paused — his suit was drenched.

—Side hug,— he muttered, still breathless. —I don’t want to ruin your shirt.

Amelie let him tuck her against his side anyway, barely able to breathe through the lump in her throat. —You did amazing,— she whispered, voice cracked.

Charles gave her a squeeze and smiled down at her. —He’s going to combust, you know.—

Before she could ask what he meant, he peeled away and jogged toward the media pen.

And then… the storm came.

Lando spotted her.

From across the concrete. From behind the mask. Through the mist and the madness and the sheer disbelief still written across his face.

The second their eyes met, he froze. His fingers still wrapped around the neck of the champagne bottle, the trophy clutched in the other hand. His jaw slackened like his brain hadn’t caught up to his legs.

And then he moved.

He shoved both the bottle and the trophy at Zak Brown, barely even glancing at him. And then he ran. Full tilt. Like his soul was chasing something his body couldn’t keep up with.

Amelie stood still as a statue, watching this champagne-soaked idiot barrel toward her like a missile with no brakes.

He didn’t even hesitate — arms hooked under her thighs, lifted her clean off the ground, spinning her in a wide circle.

—Lando!! You’re soaked!— she squealed, laughing and crying and clinging to his shoulders as he twirled her.

—Don’t care,— he gasped. —You saw it.—

Her hands curled in his suit as he set her down gently. One palm stayed on her waist just a second longer than necessary.

And then, with breathless eyes and flushed cheeks, he leaned in and kissed her.

Not her lips. Not yet.

Just her cheek. Right below the mask strap. Soft and sure and a little bit electric.

Her breath hitched. The world tilted.

And then, just like that, he pulled away. Running again. This time toward the media pen. Probably to get grilled. Probably to laugh like it hadn’t hit him either.

Amelie stood alone now, in the middle of the near-empty paddock. The sky overhead was muted grey. Her heart was screaming.

It hit her like a freight train.

Oh no.

Fuck.

She liked him.

Like, liked him.

And not just “he’s cute and makes me laugh” liked him.

No. This was different.

This was chest-aching, breath-stopping, legs-shaking kind of like.

This was "I don’t want to imagine a world where he’s not the first person I call when something good happens" kind of like.

This was dangerous.

This was real.

She pressed her hand to the spot where he’d kissed her, fingers trembling.

The sound of champagne corks and engine ticks faded into static.

Oh, no.

She was in trouble.

Big, stupid, heart-shaped trouble.

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

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daymanupdates: AMELIE JUST POSTED LANDO ON HER STORY FROM THE PODIUM 😭🏁💙 HER MAN IS FINALLY ON THE PODIUM AND SHE SAID DOCUMENT IT 😭

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lanmeliecentral: she really said "that’s my man" without saying "that’s my man" 😭 → alexalbunsleftbrow: @lanmeliecentral lando probably cried in the cool down room after seeing that story fr → georgeissopretty: @lanmeliecentral he def posted her back on close friends with no shame

ameliedaydreamer: not her posting lando on the podium like that’s not her soulmate → alexdaisysocks: @ameliedaydreamer she’s literally giving “soft launch: lifetime edition” → lando4pres: @ameliedaydreamer at this point just hand her the wifey pass already

ferrarislut: she saw her bestie win and said “lemme post my man” → leclercsthighs: bestie... girl... roommate... wife... who knows anymore

lanmelie_heart: we’ve waited YEARS for a podium + paddock era photo dump and it was WORTH IT → checostella: @lanmelie_heart we’re not delusional if it’s right in front of us. we’re just observant. → alexachill: @lanmelie_heart i just know her camera roll is 80% him rn

georgebabygirl63: "you saw it"??? I SAW IT TOO SIR I’M RIGHT HERE → alexandrace: @georgebabygirl63 the way she was about to cry and then he spun her around and kissed her I’m so unwell

lanmelie4life: him handing zak the trophy like “hold this i need to go full Nicholas Sparks real quick” → maxxhysteria: @lanmelie4life IT’S THE WAY HE LIFTED HER UP I’M IN SHAMBLES → gridgirlsupreme: @lanmelie4life they looked like the final scene of a Netflix original I’m gonna throw up (affectionately)

youlovemelie: no bc she posted him and then we got HD footage of her running to him like it’s a war reunion I’m sobbing → checostan47: @youlovemelie she hasn’t even posted joshua once btw. I’m just saying.

babywoking: “you saw it” is more romantic than any love confession ever written in literature. prove me wrong.

lanmeliefiles: THE STORY… THE STORYYYYYY 😭😭 → ameliasrage: @lanmeliesfiles she said “soft launch my champagne-soaked king” and dipped → tsunderealex: @lanmeliesfiles someone check on Joshua Bassett immediately

gp.glitter: and she was THERE… first gp since the pandemic and she watched him get his FIRST podium??? destiny. → haaswhore: @gp.glitter idc what anyone says they’re soulmates. God’s favorite friends-to-lovers arc

[dollie-disaster-darling]

The first time I saw that translation, I immediately raised an eyebrow because getting that kind of sentence would mean that it's really like that in Japanese, or deeper words with no direct translation were used, or it's exaggerated.

Wouldn't 'That's why I love you so much!' be from [そんな 理由 が 君を 愛してますよ!] / [Son'na riyū ga kimi o aishitemasu yo!] instead of [そんな君が大好きだよ!] / [Son'na kimi ga daisuki da yo!] ?

I really don't like that they used 'love' when love is [愛] / [ai] and 'like' is [好き] / [suki] and even [大好き] / [daisuki] is 'big like' literally but essentially means 'like a lot'. 'Daisuki' in Japanese is inherently more childish and playful the same way 'like' is in English compared to 'ai' in Japanese that is 'love' in English.

The thing about their dialogue is that Chuuya's is informal and boyish while Dazai has this mix of more elegant and more childish wording so it's kind of 💥💥 that they'd use a different word when one that's basically the direct translation is just there and just as usable and already fits into how a character talks!

In my opinion, the translations could be:

'I like that you!' | 'That you is what I like!' | 'That you is what I like a lot!'

But I would personally choose 'That you is what I like!' because 'I like that you!' could sound awkward when there wasn't much of a description of what 'that' you would specifically be. And while 'That you is what I like a lot!' is more accurate, it's not as snappy.

'That you is what I like!' has 'what' which is normal and mundane, but in Chuuya's case, it could be a subtle/unintentional jab at his humanity! There you go! Translation that isn't one to one but at least considers the feel, impact, and communication of a piece of dialogue!

Because how that's translation should be right? Most one-to-one's are awkward don't give off the same feeling, or just plain hard to understand. That's why it's fine for translators to have creative freedom. It's just that it'd be really, really, really nice (please I'm begging) if they'd consider the other factors.

It's not just that it's fanservice-y. It's that this neither conveys the same meaning or feeling or has the nuance of how characters talk in mind. I'm happy people are having fun, but come on. I promise you the original sentiment is already shippable because what kind of Japanese boy would go [そんな君が大好きだよ!] / [Son'na kimi ga daisuki da yo!] with sparkles like that?! Like, that sounds exactly like some of the slip up confessions I've had the misfortune of hearing.

もうっ!! If you're going to bastardize the language, then go all the way, Ace Attorney style! From Dazai to Derrick and Chuuya to Chad! Oh, you thought the setting was Yokohama? Wrong!!! We were in New Yorkohama all this time! It's right next to Japanifornia where ramen is instantly converted to burgers just like how Jesus converted water to wine!!

Surprise surprise, this translation is wrong

As many of you already know I’m in a crusade against bad translations. I see this panel going around very often but the translation makes me cringe so bad everytime. I'm sure many people are already aware of the mistranslation but I have never seen it explained anywhere so I decided to do it myself.

Disclaimer, English is not my native language.

Let’s start from the previous panel, because ✨context✨ The order is Japanese -- the fan translation I found -- and the official translation.

I will write down the literal, weird, almost word for word translation for comparison purposes:

判った　答える　答えるから近くに寄らないでくれる？連れだって歩いてると思われたくない

Understood I’ll answer. I’ll answer so, could you not come any closer? I don’t want it to look like we are walking together (I don’t want it be thought we are walking together)

はっ　心配すんな　俺もおもわれたくねえから

Ha, don’t worry. Because I don’t want it either (I also don’t want it be thought)

うふふ　気が合うねえ

ufufu ki ga au nee

Ok first explanation needed. First, the Japanese definition of ki ga au

気が合う -- 考え方や感じ方が通じ合う (kangaekata ya kanjikata ga tsuujiau)

way of thinking and feeling mutually understood.

"Ki" means mind, spirit, "au" means to meet. The English definition in many dictionaries and google is “to get along” and that’s what the fan translation uses (friendly reminder to ALWAYS use a monolingual dictionary once you reach a level high enough), but the "so well" comes from nowhere. The official translation uses "to see eye to eye". IMO it's more accurate in this context than to get along. But the “glad” also comes from nowhere.

Anyway, now you get the feeling of what it means. I think it's more like Dazai commenting how Chuuya shares with him the same feelings about the situation.

“fufu you agree, I see…”

そんな君が大好きだよ

sonna kimi ga daisuki dayo

And we got to the important part.

We have "sonna" that means “such”, “that kind of”. It's a spoken synonym of "sou iu" ("such, like that, that sort of"). As a pre-nominal adjective that goes with kimi, "sonna kimi" it means that you. It has a nuance of surprise when used in sentences like this.

And then "daisukidayo" that of course means I like so much, I love.

What does he loves? "sonna kimi", that is, a specific Chuuya, the Chuuya who is of the same mind that he is about not wanting people to think they were walking together. Or maybe simply the Chuuya that agrees with him, generally speaking.

In both translations the concept is all wrong. It’s presented as if loving Chuuya was the fact and Dazai was explaining the why. But in Japanese, Dazai is singling out the kind of Chuuya he likes/loves if you wish.

Now ask yourselves why specially the official translation chooses to make up the dialogue like that. I'm sure the translators knew enough Japanese to understand it correctly and I don't think it's a matter of cultural adaptation because it never justifies chaging the meaning. The correct answer is fanservice, sales and money 😭

If I had to translate it, I would say “oh I love/like so much that Chuuya!”.

It’s VERY in character for Dazai to say that. And the protest that follows is VERY in character for Chuuya.

うわ……やめろ！気色悪くて死ぬ！

Uwaa… stop it! It’s so disgusting I am going to die!

僕もだ

Me too.

Yes, Dazai sounds crestfallen.

This is getting too long, so my personal non-grammatical opinions under the cut

I have two, even three theories.

First case, Dazai was honest when he said that.

But he didn't register that's not something you go saying around like that, and he was hit with Chuuya's reaction. Because Chuuya had lived with other kids, so he understood social interactions. But Dazai didn't understand.

I've seen infinite analysis about Dazai and ND, mentall illnesses but not even one analyze this scene. So what if he really loved when Chuuya agreed with him, expressed it without any filters and recoiled when he was met with Chuuya's reaction and realized "that was not a normal thing to do". Remember the scene when he shoots the dead soldier? He seemed to be taking notes of what is and isn't normal. This option breaks my heart.

The criticism would be that what Dazai says doesn't sound so honest. This theory would fit better with the English translations but in Japanese he's very clearly informing Chuuya of the kind of Chuuya he likes, which is a twisted thing to say in any language. So maybe Chuuya's reaction is a response to both the nasty observation and the words chosen.

Second option, Dazai knew what he was doing

He used daisuki to provoke Chuuya, to mess with him and make him angry.

That's something 22!Dazai would do easily but I don't know if 15!Dazai was already so good at it. Anyway in this case the surprise would come from the genuine disgust in Chuuya's reaction instead of the expected anger. Chuuya is Chuuya, and he is immune to Dazai's manipulation schemes, except Dazai didn't know it yet. Also once he said it, daisuki was so cringe (and he was 15 😂). Absolutely in character for both of them.

Third option. Dazai said he wanted to make Chuuya his dog.

Dazai was a very messed up kid at that point. The first thing he thinks when he meets another (very powerful) boy his age is to dominate him and make him obbey his orders as his dog. The way he says that to Chuuya can sound very domineering, oh you agree, that's the Chuuya I love. That's a good boy 🐕. And then he felt down when Chuuya rejected that praise with disgust. In the manga it really looks like this option, with a very close and pushing Dazai and an uncomfortable looking Chuuya. I hate that vibe.

Or... possibly it's a bit of all three because after all, nobody knows what's in Dazai's mind 😌

[pouncequick]

Aimee Boorman's Book

Chapter by Chapter summary, not done yet.

A couple of thoughts on the book itself:

Overall, it's pretty decently written. It's not a literary masterpiece, but it's clear, well organized, and fun

It has a little trouble with who the audience is. At times she's talking directly to parents, at other times athletes, sometimes to the general public, occassionally to gym fans

You can tell they struggled a bit to find the balance on how much to explain what different gymnastics skills are. Which makes sense considering the broad audience

One thing that I didn't like much about the first section was the detailed explanations on things like how you called a cab before cell phones. As a kid, I never cared for books assuming I didn't know how things used to work before all the 'new fangled inventions' (I knew what a phonograph was. I DEFINITELY knew what a record was and how it worked. These kinds of asides always feel patronizing to me)

She has a good sense of humor and has definitely spent a long time reflecting on things

It's very obvious that her coaching style was delibrately developed, with choices she made from trainings, reactions to how she was coached, and things she saw that worked from her mother's parenting style. Because she made active choices on who she wanted to be as a coach, she's able to tell you more about why she believes in those approaches and give examples of what has and hasn't worked

Prologue:

Makes a point here that she's going to mention people that have had abuse allegations or just significant negative stories about them, and those mentions are going to be about her experiences with them--which may be good or bad or indifferent, because she's telling the story of her interactions with them and how they influenced her journey. I thought it was interesting but understandable that she felt the need to spell this out before even beginning the story

Chapter 1:

She has a good sense of humor about herself

Her club coaches growing up, especially after moving to her second gym, where the 'discipline installing' sort of the 80s and 90s

At one point she broke her leg at practice. The injury wasn't acknowledged, she went home, went to school the next day and eventually called her mom at work. Due to a miscommunication, she ended up walking to her mother's office before they went to the doctor and discovered there was a break

"Not being acknowledged" was the generally trend with that coach--he literally wouldn't pay attention to the work she was doing

Her mother had mental health issues that Aimee is sure made parenting harder, but she worked very hard to support Aimee and and Aimee felt that her mother was someone who truly saw her when she felt invisible

Chapter 2:

Growing up, her mother encouraged open communication and education on important issues with limited boundaries, which was the right approach for Aimee

Example: If Aimee was at a party with drinking and needed to get home, she could get a taxi any time and her mom would pay for it. She might get chewed out for it, but that was the consequence of not having a curfew and being allowed to go to the party

She strongly supports young athletes doing multiple sports

She herself did swim team and cheer alongside gymnastics in high school

Started coaching at 13

When she visited the gym she attended in Chapter 1, she did a series on beam and asked the coach if he was impressed. He told her he was always impressed, but thought if he told her that she wouldn't work as hard. The fact his dismissiveness was an active, intentional choice infuriates her, and she keeps him in mind as an example of what not to be as a coach

As a high school gymnast, she found she really enjoyed doing choreography and by the end of high school she was doing the choreo for most of her teammates

Method: Had the gymnast pick three pieces of music they could move or dance to. They'd narrow it down to one. She'd construct an mental 8 count with a theme, and they'd work together to craft a skeleton routine. They'd practice that for a few days to see if it fit, then add more detail. Changed any step they had trouble with, rather than force them to learn it.

Chapter 3:

She was not a good student in college and was more interested in her sorority. It took her a long time to get her grades high enough to officially pledge

She loved her human anatomy class, particularly working with the cadavers. She found herself picturing how her athletes were moving with out skin, how the muscles and bones and connective tissues all work together to allow them to do their movements

She road tripped with a friend who had a job interview in Texas. While there, she went to four local gyms and asked for interviews; walked out with three job offers

She decided to leave school a semester short of graduation to coach; her mother supported this (she finished her BA while writing the book--she says it just wasn't the right time for her to do college, which would always be there)

She decided to make coaching her career after an encounter with Octavian Belu, who told her that she must become a coach

Her first boss didn't think she'd ever be successful as a coach because she was too nice

Chapter 4:

Her first coaching position in Texas was Cyprus Academy

She learned a huge amount about coaching and gymnastics there, confirming her feelings that she was right to leave school for this

She basically lived at the gym, and when she wasn't coaching she was watching Debbie and Deana coaching the elites--she felt they were too verbally harsh, but she also learned a lot

Cyprus Academy was a very competitive environment, where winning was the expectation, athletes were made to feel bad about losing, and conditioning was used as a punishment

It wasn't the right environment for her, so she moved to the less competitive and more nurturing Bannon's--she had observed them carefully and appreciated how they interacted with the gymnasts

Bannon's had lower pay, but they incentivized learning and observation with bonuses. You earned pay increases for completing training courses, becoming a judge, etc. You had to take the initiative of signing up and paying for it, but the pay increases would pay for it fairly quickly. They could also earn bonuses if they noticed hazards in the gym, found a solution, and did the paperwork to get it taken care of. Bannon's invested in them becoming better and more valuable coaches

She quickly had all her certifications available and became a judge through level 10

She really enjoys coming up with drills and Tammy Bigg's presentations were always some of her favorites

At Bannon's, she wasn't the nice coach anymore (nice coaching was the expectation). She was now the mean coach, and some kids did quit. She says she didn't yell, but she did expect discipline. She tells a story about telling a kid (another coach's child) something they did was stupid--the child and the coworker were both upset. She was very careful that she only criticized the action, not the child, but it was still a lesson for her on how her words affect the athletes

She feels that you're only as good as your worst athlete

Bannon's was not selective about who comopeted, and winning was something to celebrate, not something that was expected. There was regular testing to determine levels which managed expectations

She does not appreciate chucking skills

She is proud of coaching kids through compulsories into optionals and feels its important to keep it fun

Mandatory snack breaks for everyone (including coaches) if the practice is over three hours. This is a rest period, and she thinks parents and coaches forget how packed kids' days are. She also believes in flexibility in missing training--you don't forget how to do gymnastics in a week and training will always be there, but the family vacation won't. Extended breaks do mean losing conditioning though!

Her mom moved to Texas in 1995

Chapter 5:

Got married the only weekend she didn't have a competition

Husband was well area she didn't work a 9-5 job

Worked until (or almost until) her due date with all three children and was back in the gym within a week or so after. Didn't take her maternity leave with her first child until he was about 6 months old

Woke up around 11 am, worked 1-9:30ish. Husband did the mornings with the kids, her mom helped with dinner and childcare

Chapter 6:

Simone chapters start

Describes Simone in one of her first days of classes--she was sitting in a pike and casually pushed herself up into a press and slid her feet through her arms so she could lie on her stomach--not as a gymnastics move, just as how to get her feet behind her. Normal people don't do that. (Her mom: That's the kid I was trying to tell you about!)

In the story about Simone doing a standing back tuck, and then doing it on beam, Simone actually first jumped up on the high beam to do it. All the coaches yelled for her to get down simultaneously, so she did it on the low beam instead. It was a lesson about not blindly challenging a gifted and adventurous child!

Simone got a zero on both vaults at her second state meet--she hadn't been paying attention and was startled when she was signaled to run and balked the first one (ran into the horse). To compensate on the second one, she punched so hard she went over the table without touching it

When conditioning, Simone would stop and start at the same time as the person next to her, even if she still had reps. If called out to finish her reps, she'd cry because she didn't want to

She was hesitant on moving Simone out of compulsories too quickly because she needed the finesse and time to hone her basics. Felt time was on their side to develop flexibility

Simone would just stop doing things if bored. At TOPS testing, she stopped doing her pull ups during the test because she was bored, so Aimee challenged her to climb to the top of the rope, not just to the mark. Simone responded by climbing the rope up into the ceiling tiles. Another lesson about challenging her.

Bars were hard because Simone's hands were so small

Lots of fears--she wasn't afraid of a straddle back, but she was afraid of jumping from low to high. She was never afraid of going backward, but she said it would be too scary to look at the equipment

Her tremendous air sense meant that she always bailed safely and they could experiment and try more things

When she had a mental block on her beam series, she had to do it three times after warm ups. She could have as much time and as many mats as she needed, but she had to do it three times before she could start her practice

At level 9, she did had a BHS-1 arm BHS-double pike beam dismount

When Simone started getting asked for autographs, Aimee told her she always had to be friendly and nice during it. When it got to be too much, she needed to tell Aimee so Aimee could be the bad guy shutting it down, and the little kids wouldn't have a bad experience with Simone (remembered a disappointing autograph session with MLR)

Once after a bad bars while trying to qualify elite, Simone threw her grips on the ground in disgust. Aimee reprimanded her, and D-D Breaux nodded and said "Get her." LSU sent a recruitment letter a few weeks later (Simone was 12)

Around this time she also sent a video of Simone's skills to Martha, hoping for a camp invite, but was dismissed

Simone spent one year at 9 and three at 10 and only qualified HOPES her first elite season (coinciding with one of the 10 years)

AImee held her back at 10 because she needed refinement and since she wasn't age eligible for London, there was no point in pushing too hard to early. Her parents weren't thrilled about this, but they trusted Aimee

They didn't move to two-a-days until Simone started her first junior elite season at 14

[bokettochild]

Ketto's Update Thoughts - SE Basement p. 2

Honestly, there's not overmuch to say, but here we go!

I loved getting to see Sky out of his element and using a bow rather than his sword, and it's actually one of the first Time's I can remember seeing his bow before, since I've not played his game and thus never used it myself. I think JoJo drew it beautifully!

I love how, during the fight, we see these two cover each other pretty well. Granted, Twilight was more the one looking out for Sky here, since, y'know, Sky was kinda cornered and unable to escape around his enemy, but still! Teamwork! They really are a well suited pair here

I did think we were going to have a "dead dog round 2" or something for the sort when I saw Twi get hit, but I love that instead of going down, we just saw Wolfie flash his fangs and some more of that freakish rancher strength appear again! (honestly, he's GOT to get it from Malon: the cow-tossing farmer lady!)

And is it just me or did he really let his wolf bleed over a little extra here because

he is giving wolf vibes here

Honestly, I swear he's made that same face as Wolfie at some point in time in the comics, and it's really helping ME register them as the same a bit better, and I've known since the start!

But back to the Twilight and Sky being a good pair thing! Sky checks in here with Twi, but he doesn't immediately jump to fussing like LITERALLY anyone else would have. the rest would be panicking and all but forcing him to check them over, but Sky just laughs off what happened, while still stopping to make sure Twi's okay, but because the rancher doesn't seem too bad, it's not a "oh my Hylia are you okay?!?!?!?!" just a quick "you good" when he sees Twi holding his side, and then they laugh it off!

Well done Time, you did good with these two :)

Anyways, that's it! Fighting scenes leave little for me to analyze, given as I'm more knowledgeable about lore than combat, in game or otherwise, but I'm really glad JoJo decided to post when she did, and she was so considerate of all of us!

As a person who works morning shift, I appreciate it so, so much!!! (Even if I was technically still working when this dropped, but whatever lol)

I can't wait to see what happens next! Maybe we'll check in with the knight duo or the age bookend trio next month!