#unlocking winning doors

[timminear]

in many ways i am doing so much better than i have been in many years. in other news ive recently taken up the habit of locking the door to my room.

[coconut530]

🔔

[lutiaslayton]

Professor Layton and the Eternal Diva

ＰＡＲＴ　０８

〚ＦＩＲＳＴ〛〚ＰＲＥＶ〛〚ＮＥＸＴ〛

Disclaimer: This is a fan-translation for the Japan-exclusive novellisation of the movie Professor Layton and the Eternal Diva. The original novel was written by Aya Matsui under the supervision of Akihiro Hino, and belongs to Level-5.

This translation only aims to be a pleasant read for non-Japanese fans, nothing more: I made a few deliberate changes while translating in order to get the writing style closer to what is usually found in English fanfictions, as the Japanese storytelling can sometimes be different than what we are used to.

＊ Puzzle n°001

“Let’s get going. Puzzle n°001: ladies and gentlemen, please take a good look around you, and assemble under the oldest thing you can find.”

The man’s voice had just told us the first puzzle.

“Now, do note that there is a time limit.”

Spotlights were switched on and a long, narrow box-like object was raised up. A music box.

The paper containing the score, rolled around a cylinder, slowly unwrapped and ended up swallowed into a slit. Soon, the machine began to play a tune.

“You have until the music ends… so there is no time to lose.”

The audience had been stunned by the unexpected turn of events; but everyone soon rushed out of the hall. Their one and only goal was simple: to find this ‘oldest thing.’

We could not afford to stay idle. I stood up in a hurry.

“Professor, let’s go find it!”

The professor replied with a calm nod, and slowly walked towards the door.

“I’m coming too,” Janice said as she rushed to catch up with us.

I glanced… sideways at her. Even in normal clothes, without her costume as the Queen of Ambrosia, she was still a very beautiful person. And even though she was now back to being Janice Quatlane… Her lively sparkling eyes and the impression of dignified strength that she radiated had remained exactly the same.

I wanted to protect her. But I was a child, wanting to protect a famous adult opera singer… if anyone could hear this, they would surely laugh at me.

Still, I was very serious. I couldn’t let Janice suffer the same fate as those who had disappeared under the floor earlier. And the only way to do that was to keep winning this game.

I was going to become a gentleman too. It was only natural to help a lady in need.

I decided to focus my thoughts on the puzzle. The Crown Petone was decorated here and there with fossils, rough crystals, and antiques, all looking very old. We had to find the oldest item out of all of these… My eyes would scurry here and there, all around, but I only felt like our limited time was being wasted.

Janice looked very worried. I had to do something… The sound of the music box playing made me feel even more impatient.

“Professor, there are way too many things on board that could be the right answer! Which one could be the oldest?”

The professor did not respond. I stopped asking.

I had soon learned that when he was silent and had this kind of expression on his face, it meant that his mind was moving at full speed. I did not want to disturb his thoughts by talking about unnecessary things.

Suddenly, he looked up with a start. He must have solved it!

“It’s alright, Luke. Now, let’s hurry back to the theatre.”

And there it was. I was glad I hadn’t bothered him.

When we returned back to our starting point, I noticed that quite a few other people were already here.

Suddenly, the professor said:

“The clue was in the puzzle itself.”

“Huh?”

I quickly pulled out my notebook, reading again the mysterious man’s exact words. I had written them down as soon as he had announced the puzzle.

“Try to remember,” the professor continued. “The host said ‘take a look around,’ but at no point did he say ‘look on this ship’…”

I ran my eyes hastily over my notes.

“He certainly didn’t use the words ‘on board.’”

“This is because the ‘oldest thing’ we are supposed to find is not on this ship.”

Janice asked with a surprised look on her face:

“But if it’s not on the ship, then where is it?”

“The oldest thing we are supposed to look for…”

The professor suddenly looked up. Janice and I did the same. Above us was a clear, starry sky.

“…are the stars that have existed for tens of thousands of years,” he soon concluded.

The oldest things were the stars! This was not an answer I had considered. But now that I had heard it, it sounded obvious. All the fossils and other objects that had been placed all over the Crown Petone were simply decoys meant to mislead us.

“You did it again, Professor!”

As I just finished saying this, the music box fell into silence.

“Your time is up. The oldest things were the stars in the sky that still shine in the night to this day… Congratulations to all that stand in this hall. You have earned the right to try your hand at the next puzzle.”

Many contestants around us breathed a sigh of relief. But at that moment, dozens of screams reached my ears from outside.

I was reminded of all the people who had disappeared when the floor collapsed earlier.

If we could not solve the puzzle, then we had to offer our life… This was a terrifying game of life and death. Once again, fear was palpable.

“Let us now move on to Puzzle n°002. Ladies and gentlemen, please gather this time around the place ‘from which you can see the largest crown.’”

The man’s voice sounded to me like a death sentence…

　⇚　　　　　　　⇛

[wutheringmights]

After what feels like forever (over a month), I have finally finished The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas.

This books has been hanging over my head ever since I was a kid, and I had always been too intimidated by the length to ever attempt to read it. But I have finally conquered my white whale and let me just say one thing: this book is amazing!

I have read a lot of classics in my time, but rarely have I found one that is this consistently entertaining and engaging. Are there places Dumas could have theoretically trimmed? Yes, but I don't want him to. This book feels perfect exactly the way it is.

The plot was fantastic, but it's really the characters that I fell in love with. The count is such a bastard, and between his antics and charm, he would drop lines filled with sheer rage and bitterness that would leave me speechless.

Ultimately, that's one of the things that I find the most valuable about reading classic novels. I love discovering the ways that pieces of art that are older than any family heirloom inside my home resonates with me on an emotional level. I love finding characters I relate to or characters I loathe. I love laughing at the jokes and recognizing the familiarity of a paragraph complaining about how bureaucracy does not work. I love feeling connected to the past and knowing the humans have always had rich lives, and that their experiences are familiar to me hundreds of years later.

That's part of the reason why some of the criticism I read while skimming Good Reads reviews felt disingenuous. Don't get me wrong-- I don't take Good Read reviews without a hefty dose of salt, and the rating for the COMC is extraordinarily positive. But readers who complain that the book is dated in terms of the count being a "Gary Sue" (yes, I actually read that) and the female characters being flat don't get the point of reading any classic.

Yes, the count is unstoppable. But that's the point. He's an angel of revenge who thinks himself equal to god. That's part of the story. Even if you ignored how that plays into the themes of revenge vs forgiveness, can you not take joy in how people long dead also delighted in reading about an absolute bastard of a man making other peoples' lives miserable?

As for the female characters being flat-- I'm not going to pretend that's not an issue. But it is a mistake to open any piece of classic literature and expect modern sensibilities to apply. Yes, you can criticize it, but it just seems like a worthless hill to die on.

I won't say that Dumas doesn't fumble his women characters (let's talk about Haydee some other time), but compared to a lot of other pieces of classic literature I have read, the women in COMOC are not really that bad. Go read some Dickens and then we can have a talk about the maiden/mother/crone issue.

Overall, 10/10 book. I am so glad that I finally read this. If there is any classic you should read, this is a great one to delve into.

Also, Franz totally fucked the count.

[nochepsicodelica]

Toji who got really drunk after a misunderstanding you left him to ponder upon one morning when you left for work. You missed a part of your routinely goodbye to him and at first it didn't bother him. He understood that you were running late, but once he started chugging the cold drinks and he sat with the sentiment, he realized it did strike him.

He hated the entire process of getting drunk, hated that drinking was unbearable unless it was chased with sweet kisses from you, but there he was, downing bottle after bottle. He was starting to feel liquid full but even in this intoxicated state he didn't want to put down the bottles. At some point he starting feeling uncomfortable being by himself and didn't want to feel that way anymore, so he called and texted you. Multiple times. You finally picked up after the eighth call.

-Hi, baby! Sorry, I missed your calls. I just left work and i'm heading home.-

-Baby? Who are you calling baby?- He scoffs, a roll of his eyes following.

-You... Toji. It's you. Who else would I be calling baby?-

-Honestly, I...- He laughs, the sound not coming off as one of joy with the next words he speaks. -I didn't think you even loved me enough to give me stupid pet names. I feel very unloved by you and... mhm, just want you to know that.-

Now, that's just entirely untrue and it hurts to hear. You prove your love for him every day. What is this sudden false claim against you?

-Toji, love, what are you saying? I'm coming home, already. Maybe we should talk in person. This is hard to discuss over the phone.-

-Uh-huh, you do that.- He sighs, heavily, his eyes lidding with sluggishness. -Can't win a verbal argument, s-so you're gonna come over here and try to seduce me with your pretty face. I'm just gonna say no when you try to touch me. Just no.-

-I'll see you in a bit, Toji.- you say, before abruptly hanging up.

He sounded off. You knew something was up the second you saw his eight missed calls and a stack of messages just saying 'hey'.

Your keys jingled as you pulled them out of your bag to unlock the front door. The house was steady, no sign of Toji watching TV in the living room or of the shower running. You walked further in, calling his name. It was kind of eery walking through your silent house. You also knew of Toji's tendency of scaring you, so you were on guard for that as you paced around the house. You had one more room to check and it was the bedroom. You dragged your feet over to the room, knocking when you noticed the door was closed. There was no answer after two more knocks so you just opened the door.

The sound startled Toji who was lying against the headboard of the bed, almost falling asleep. The second he saw you his demeanor changed. He perked up like a dog when their owner comes home, before melting back to the stoic state he had been sitting in.

"Hey," you say, almost tentatively, as you walk towards your shared bed, sitting down on the edge. You're met with an acknowledging hum of a response. "What's wrong, baby?"

"There you go calling me baby again. Baby is for people who love each other, so stop it."

You look over the bed, spotting the evidence that led to the bite in his attitude towards you— those bottles that spill the remaining drops of their content and Toji's backwash onto the bed, making the sheets reek of alcohol.

"Well, I love you, so no, i'm not gonna stop calling you baby."

He crosses his arms over his chest, huffing like a child. "That so? It didn't seem that way this morning. I've never felt so forgotten about by you."

"I told you I was gonna be late for work, but you insisted on keeping me trapped beneath you. Bring that part to light, handsome." You can see the corners of his lips twitching. He's holding back the most wicked smirk at the short burst of memories from the morning. "Plus, I still gave you your goodbye kiss, so what are you on about?"

"You didn't say 'I love you'. That's part of goodbye with you, so you can't blame me for feeling this way." His eyes express something of hurt. Maybe it's enhanced by the drinks he had, but you can't leave him that way.

"You're loved, baby. Very much so. Me not saying it this one time doesn't diminish the actual feeling." He's been reduced to a cub over this, so as his lover, you step in to mend the feelings that were grazed.

"Can you..." he rasps, patting his thigh, signaling for you to sit. You drag yourself towards him, and plop yourself onto his lap. You can smell the alcohol on his breath as he rambles on about how you can't forget to say 'I love you' to him ever again, even if it's a blurted, rushed one that he doesn't get a chance to respond to as you rush out the door.

The look he reserves for you is entirely soft, his hands are hot against your clothed back as they feel the warm body he's missed for hours. "I still..." he pauses to sigh, tiredness imbued into the sound. "Still want you to call me baby," he starts again. "I was just bummed. Don't stop calling me baby. Don't ever do that." He's letting his hands roam all over you. Your back, your waist, your hips—everything.

"Are you gonna let me touch you or are you gonna say 'no'?" You grin, remembering his words, verbatim, just incase he tries to tell you he never said them.

"Why aren't you touching me? Why would I not want you to touch me?" He looks insulted by the question and you have half a mind to remind him of what he said to you on the phone, but the heat in his eyes dies out as quickly as it appeared. "Really need a hug, mama. Please, hug," he says, the last part muffled by your chest as he keeps his face buried into it.

You held him tight and murmured 'I love you' countless times, while he hummed in response and groaned quietly as you ran your fingers through his hair.

[ahqkas]

Hello! ^^

First, just wanna say your blog is amazing. Second, what kind of shenanigans do you think would ensue with the batboys having a hyper physically clingy S/O? Like their S/O would get so excited they're home and just tackle hug them before they make it past the door kind of clingy.

♯ FRIDAY I’M IN LOVE . . . ( the batboys ! )

— gn!reader, fluff

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

BRUCE WAYNE

bruce wayne, the ever-composed patriarch of the family, would at first have no idea how to handle such enthusiasm. his s/o being hyper-physically affectionate would probably throw him completely off-balance at first—not because he doesn’t enjoy the affection but because he’s not used to being greeted like that.

( the door creaks open as bruce steps inside the manor, still half-lost in the grim report alfred had handed him earlier. before he even sets his briefcase down, a blur barrels toward him, arms wide, a gleeful shout of his name ringing through the grand hall.

he braces himself instinctively like he’s about to be tackled by a rogue metahuman. “wait—” is all he manages before you collide with him, wrapping him in a bear hug strong enough to make his muscles tense. for a second, bruce freezes like a deer in headlights.

“miss me?” you grin, cheek pressed to his chest as you sway him back and forth like a tree in a storm.

bruce glances down, trying to maintain the stoic facade, but his lips twitch, betraying the barest hint of amusement. “you know, most people say hello first.”

alfred passes by with an arched brow and a muttered, “at least you don’t end up unconscious, master wayne.”

he sighs, exasperated but secretly endeared. he knows by now resistance is futile. one hand rests awkwardly on your back, the other fumbling to steady the files tucked under his arm. “you’re going to sprain something one day,” he murmurs, though there’s a faint warmth in his tone. )

the first time you tackle-hugged him after patrol, bruises and all, bruce immediately went into “are you hurt?” mode despite being the one who should be resting. “you can’t just launch yourself at me like that—you could get hurt,” he’d chide, even as he gently pulls you closer to make sure you’re okay.

alfred would quietly revel in the sheer domestication of bruce’s typically aloof charge. “ah, nothing like unrestrained enthusiasm to balance out your brooding, sir.”

DICK GRAYSON

dick grayson would be all in for having a hyper-physically affectionate s/o. the guy thrives on connection, and someone who matches his energy—or even outpaces it—would not only make him laugh but also make him feel completely loved. if anything, your clingy antics would ignite a bit of playful competition as dick tries to out-affection you, though he’d absolutely let you win most of the time.

( the moment he unlocks the door after a patrol, the creak of the hinges is your signal to strike. without hesitation, you launch yourself at him like a projectile, arms wide and grinning ear to ear.

“dick!”

“whoa—!” he yelps, barely managing to catch you before you tackle him into the doorframe. one arm wraps around your waist while the other steadies both of you. “are you trying to kill me, or…?” he teases, his voice light with laughter.

“i’m just so happy you’re home!” you say, nuzzling into his neck.

“yeah? well, i love being tackled the moment i step inside,” he says sarcastically, but the grin splitting his face is entirely genuine. “i mean, forget taking off my boots or hanging up my jacket—this is exactly what i needed.” he spins you around for good measure, making you laugh as he carries you further inside. )

dick would absolutely take your clinginess as a challenge to see who could be more over-the-top. you tackle-hug him at the door? he’ll scoop you up and spin you. you randomly leap on his back during a walk? he’ll carry you piggyback all the way home. it’s basically a constant competition to outdo each other.

one time, you caught him mid-workout and tried to climb on his back during push-ups. he pretended to be annoyed but ended up laughing so hard he couldn’t finish his reps. “you’re impossible,” he’d say between laughs, letting you sit on his back as he fake-struggled to keep going.

JASON TODD

jason todd would act like he didn’t know how to handle having such a clingy and affectionate s/o, but deep down, he’d secretly live for it. the guy has been through hell and back, so having someone who’s so unapologetically excited to see him would catch him off-guard at first—but it would also heal a part of him he didn’t know was still raw. he might grumble, roll his eyes, and mutter sarcastic quips, but the way he’d instinctively hold onto you would give away just how much he craves your affection.

( jason walks through the apartment door, shoulders tense from a long night of patrol, his helmet tucked under one arm. he barely gets two steps inside before the sound of your excited yell fills the air.

“jay!”

before he can react, you’re barreling toward him, all wild energy and open arms. “oh, shi—” the rest of his curse is cut off as you launch yourself at him, practically climbing him like a tree. he stumbles back a step, caught off-guard but reflexively wrapping his arms around you to keep you both steady.

“missed me?” you ask with a grin, nuzzling into his neck as your legs wrap around his waist like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

jason sighs, trying to sound exasperated but failing miserably. “miss you? you act like i’ve been gone for months. i was literally out for, what, five hours?”

“too long,” you mumble into his shoulder, squeezing him tighter.

despite his words, you feel his shoulders relax as he hugs you back. “you’re ridiculous, you know that?” he says softly, his voice a little rough around the edges but warm. )

jason would never stop pretending to grumble about your antics. “do you have to tackle me every time i walk through the door? my ribs aren’t exactly indestructible.” but if you ever didn’t tackle him, he’d immediately notice. “what, no welcome-home ambush? you mad at me or something?”

he would absolutely start using your clinginess against you. if he wanted your attention, he’d dramatically throw himself onto the couch and groan, “i can’t go on. i need one of your hugs to survive.”

TIM DRAKE

tim drake would initially be overwhelmed by having such a physically clingy s/o, mostly because he’s used to people respecting his personal bubble—or just not being that excited to see him. but once he got past the initial shock, he’d secretly love it, even if he was absolutely terrible at expressing that in words. your affectionate antics would constantly fluster him, but he’d quickly become addicted to the way you made him feel wanted and cared for.

( if you interrupted tim in the middle of one of his all-nighters, the results would be like this: imagine him sitting at his desk, surrounded by coffee cups and glowing monitors, so hyper-focused that he doesn’t even hear you sneaking up behind him.

suddenly, your arms wrap around his shoulders, and you rest your chin on top of his head. “hi,” you whisper, making him jump so hard he almost knocks over his coffee.

“[name]!” he hisses, spinning around to glare at you, his heart racing.

“sorry, couldn’t resist,” you say with a cheeky grin, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple.

tim sighs, trying to look annoyed, but the light blush creeping up his neck gives him away. “you’re ridiculous,” he mutters, but instead of pushing you away, he pulls you into his lap, his arms wrapping securely around your waist. “if i let you stay, will you let me finish his report?”

“no promises.” )

your ambushes would frequently catch tim off-guard, leading to spilled coffee, toppled stacks of paperwork, and at least one destroyed keyboard. “[name], i love you, but you’re going to bankrupt me in tech replacements,” he’d grumble while cleaning up the latest mess.

he would eventually start using your affection as an excuse to take breaks. if you tackled him while he was working, he’d let out a long-suffering sigh and say, “fine. five minutes. but only because you’re so insistent.” cue you dragging him to the couch for cuddles while he pretends to be annoyed.

ADDITIONAL NOTE! if you like my work , please consider reblogging and / or commenting ! thank you if you do 🤍

[rafesangelita]

hi victoria!!! i love ur pogue!sweetheart!reader and i was wondering if u could do a lil hurt/comfort thing where one of rafes friends tells reader she talks too much/is too loud and she gets super upset? i’m a super big crybaby and i talk a LOT and i’d love to see how you write how rafey defends n comforts her :,)

warnings: protective!rafe, topper and kelce are pretty mean in this one >:(, rafe defends you <3, sight angst, fluff, rafe being the king of reassurance

a/n: i have personal beef with anyone who tells ppl to quiet down when they’re excited for something, or just naturally outgoing. also idk how to play poker so excuse the way i explained it if it’s incorrect lol

before you, friday nights were always reserved for rafe and his friends, the group of them either going out for a beer or staying in and betting money on card games. but now? rafe spent his friday nights buried inside of you, both of you laughing and kissing each other in the dark until one of you fell asleep first. and rafe wouldn’t have it any other way. his friends however, weren’t very fond of your boyfriend choosing you over them.

which would explain their impromptu visit while you two were mid-makeout session. “so this is why she has you locked away, huh?” you jumped, rafe covering you with a throw blanket as he slipped his shirt on. “what the fuck, guys?!” rafe glared at kelce and topper, your skin hot with embarrassment. “you left the door unlocked, playboy.” topper pushed a twelve pack of beers into rafe’s chest, the pair of friends walking to the kitchen.

“are you okay, baby?” rafe leaned down, wanting nothing more than to sucker punch his idiot friends for making you feel mortified. “i’m in my bra and panties!” you whispered, scrambling up from the couch and running up the stairs to rafe’s bedroom. rafe pinched the bridge of his nose, cursing under his breath before meeting topper and kelce in the kitchen. “y’all should’ve called me or something.” his tone was harsh, kelce holding his hands up defensively.

“she has you so pussy whipped bro, would you have even answered?” no, the answer was no. “it doesn’t matter, you two shouldn’t have walked in like that.” topper scoffed, popping open a can of beer. “chill, man, we just came to see our boy,” kelce slapped rafe’s shoulder, “and beat your ass at poker.” he added. rafe laughed, muttering a ‘not a chance.’ before going upstairs to check on you. “y/n?” you were fixing your disheveled hair, your lips still swollen from your previous activities.

“hey..” you turned, rafe pulling you in for a hug. “why don’t you come downstairs? be my lucky charm for the game we’re gonna play.” you shook your head, recalling topper’s words from earlier; ‘so this is why she has you locked away, huh?’ locked away? really? “i better not, you should go have your ‘bro’ time, i know it’s been awhile..” you smiled, hoping he didn’t catch the way your gaze faltered. he did. “i want you with me.” he pecked the tip of your nose, your eyes shutting momentarily.

“what if they don’t, though?” rafe was already dressing you, waving off your words. “well then they can leave.” he shrugged. you sighed, letting him walk you downstairs where topper and kelce had the game set up on the table. “the girl scout is joining us?” you didn’t miss the way topper exchanged looks with the boy on his right. “yes, she is. is there a problem?” kelce mumbled a ‘no.’, followed by an awkward clearing of his throat.

rafe pulled you onto his lap, the guys starting the game as you rested your head against his chest. you didn’t know a thing about poker, your lips quirking every time your boyfriend shouted excitedly. “there’s no way!” topper slammed his losing cards on the table, “i have nothing!” kelce was getting frustrated, the chances of him winning decreasing with each turn. “if i flip this card and it’s right, i take all of this.” the guys had already put in well over four hundred dollars, the tension in the room incredibly thick.

“with this money we’ll get you that mixer you been wanting, how does that sound?” you nodded, both you and rafe leaning forward in anticipation. as soon as rafe turned his last card over, you screamed, jumping up as topper and kelce heads fell down in defeat. it was the first time you had even opened your mouth tonight, and kelce wasted no time in shutting you down. “calm down, do you really have to be so loud?” your smile dropped, along with rafe’s. “forreal.” topper glared at you before pushing the money in your direction.

“what’s up y’all’s asses? she’s just cheering,” rafe pulled you to his side, “just a reminder that you two came here on your own accord and interrupted us, not the other way around.” in that moment you felt like a little girl again, always having someone to tell you to quiet down and suppress your excitement. you couldn’t help the tears from welling in your eyes, their judgmental looks making you want to disappear. prior to you and rafe being together, topper and kelce had always been nice to you, but all of that seemed to go out the door when your boyfriend stopped participating in their little get togethers.

“we hardly see you anymore, bro, we just don’t understand why she can’t lay off sometimes.” topper looked over at you, his jaw ticking as rafe laughed bitterly. you couldn’t believe your ears. if only they knew how much you encouraged rafe to hang out with them. “has it ever occurred to you that maybe i rather spend my time with my girlfriend than hanging out with you two? get the fuck out of my house.” topper and kelce looked like they were at a loss for words, both of them apologizing to you under their breath.

“and not that it matters anymore, ‘cause you two are so convinced that she has me trapped in her evil lair somewhere, but she encouraged me to come down here by myself before i dragged her along with me. you don’t even know what you’re talking about.” rafe basically pushed them out before shouting, “and i’m keeping the beers assholes!”

rafe shut the front door, making sure to lock it this time before he scooped you up in his arms. “don’t cry, sweetheart, they’re both idiots.” you sniffled, laughing softly. rafe smiled at the fact that he knew how to make you feel better. “talk my ear off while i order that mixer, i love hearing your voice.”

[moonlightwritingf1]

The Picture That Changed Everything | LN4

𓂃۶ৎ summary ━━━━━━━ A drunken mistake intensifies Lando and Y/N's playful dynamic, forcing Y/N to confront her growing feelings. After a Grand Prix win, Lando returns to London, ready to prove his love.

𓂃۶ৎ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

𓂃۶ৎ word count ━━━━━━━ 4.5k

Saturday Morning – London

Y/N’s alarm buzzed harshly, pulling her from a restless sleep. She groaned, rolling onto her side and hitting the snooze button with more force than necessary. It was the weekend, yet she still woke early out of habit. Her small apartment felt unusually quiet. She rubbed her eyes and sat up, letting the soft light streaming through the curtains illuminate her messy bedroom.

London was cold, but the thought of meeting her friends later kept her spirits up. As she shuffled into the kitchen to make her morning coffee, her phone buzzed with a notification.

“You have a delivery arriving this morning. See you soon, Y/N. 😉”

Her heart jumped slightly as she read the message. It was from Lando. The same Lando Norris who, for the past six months, had made it his mission to win her over. She placed her phone on the counter and stared at the message, her mind replaying every interaction they’d had.

Lando. The name alone carried so much weight. The charming F1 driver who was known for his playful demeanor and undeniable talent. And yet, despite his fame, his attention was laser-focused on her.

“Stop overthinking it,” she mumbled to herself, focusing on the steaming cup of coffee in her hands.

Just as she took a sip, the doorbell rang. She opened the door to find a delivery man holding a massive bouquet of roses.

“These are for you, miss,” he said with a polite smile.

Her cheeks warmed as she signed for the flowers. She carried the bouquet inside and set it on the counter, inhaling their sweet fragrance. A small card nestled among the petals caught her attention. She opened it, her pulse quickening as she read his familiar handwriting.

“Just something to brighten your day. Hope to see that beautiful smile soon. - Lando”

Her fingers brushed over the words, her stomach flipping. “He’s relentless,” she whispered.

Saturday Night – London

After a lively evening with her friends, Y/N stumbled into her apartment, the faint buzz of wine humming in her veins. The cold November air had left her cheeks flushed, her skin tingling as she kicked off her heels and stepped onto the plush carpet of her cozy London flat.

Her apartment was small but warm, filled with touches of her personality—bookshelves stacked with novels she loved, a collection of scented candles, and fairy lights that gave the room a soft glow. She sighed, relishing the silence after the laughter and noise of the bustling city.

Her eyes landed on the bouquet of roses sitting in a crystal vase on her kitchen counter. Their vibrant red petals were still as fresh as when they had been delivered that morning, a testament to Lando’s thoughtfulness.

Lando.

The thought of him made her pause. Despite her efforts to keep him at arm’s length, he always found a way to worm himself into her thoughts.

She walked over to the flowers, trailing her fingers over the soft petals. A small smile tugged at her lips, unbidden but undeniable. She hated how easily he could make her feel special.

Her slightly tipsy state had loosened her usual guard. She reached for her phone, her fingers trembling slightly as she unlocked it. Her messages with Lando were already open; the last text was from him earlier that morning, teasing her about his latest delivery.

“Just something to make you smile today. 😉”

Y/N rolled her eyes fondly, her heart skipping a beat.

“I should thank him,” she murmured to herself, her resolve softening. With a sigh, she reached for her phone. Her inbox was full of messages from friends and acquaintances, but she was drawn to Lando’s most recent text. She had kept their exchanges light, playful—nothing too serious. But tonight, the alcohol in her system loosened her usually guarded heart. She wanted to thank him for the flowers, to acknowledge the gesture that had clearly taken a lot of thought.

Her thumb hovered over the keyboard as she considered what to say. “Thanks for the flowers. They’re beautiful. You’re too sweet, Lando,” she typed, pressing each key with a soft deliberation. Satisfied with her message, she attached the picture of the flowers she’d taken earlier in the evening.

She hit send, then yawned. The wine, the laughter, the entire night’s energy weighed on her, and she felt a sudden fatigue. She tossed her phone carelessly onto the bed, her head spinning as she made her way to the bathroom to wash up.

The phone, forgotten and unmonitored, sat on the bed as Y/N moved around her apartment, oblivious to the accidental drama that had just unfolded.

Saturday Afternoon – Las Vegas

Lando sat in his motorhome, scrolling aimlessly through his phone as he mentally prepared for qualifying.

It wasn’t unusual for Lando to check his messages during moments of downtime, especially when he was away. He and Y/N had struck up an unusual friendship six months ago, and while they hadn’t officially started dating, he was determined to make her see that he was serious about her. His messages were always light-hearted and teasing, but each one carried a clear undercurrent of affection. He wanted more from her, and he was willing to do whatever it took to prove it.

When his phone buzzed, he glanced down, his heart giving a small skip as he saw Y/N’s name on the screen. His heart jumped. It was rare for her to text him first, so he opened it immediately, eager to read her response.

“Thank you for the flowers. They’re beautiful. You’re too sweet, Lando.”

A smile tugged at his lips. She was sweet—she just didn’t realize how much she meant to him yet.

As he scrolled to the next message, his eyes widened. There it was. The picture.

But it wasn’t the one of the flowers.

It was Y/N, standing in front of a mirror in her bedroom, wearing nothing but a pair of black lace panties, her arms barely covering her breasts. The pose was bold and sensual, her body perfectly framed by the mirror. The photo was stunning in its rawness, capturing Y/N in a rare moment of vulnerability, but also a certain power. It was impossible for him not to be captivated by it.

“Holy shit,” Lando whispered to himself, staring at the screen. He was momentarily stunned, trying to process the image. Was she joking? Was it real?

His fingers hovered over the screen. He blinked several times, trying to shake off his initial shock. It was definitely an accident. There was no way she had meant to send this. Still, the thought of Y/N being bold enough to send such an intimate photo, even by mistake, stirred something inside him.

Lando chuckled to himself, already knowing how to respond. He couldn't resist teasing her a little, especially given her usual cautious nature.

He quickly typed a reply:

“Thanks for the picture. Now I’ll definitely get pole position. 😏”

He hesitated briefly, debating if it was too much, then sent the message anyway.

He sat back in his chair, his grin widening. What the hell had just happened? He knew Y/N—she was usually so guarded, always putting up walls around herself. And yet, here she was, sending him a photo like that, albeit by accident. His mind raced as he tried to piece it together. Was she secretly interested in him? Did she have feelings for him that she wasn’t ready to admit? Or was it just the alcohol? Whatever it was, he knew one thing for sure: He wasn’t going to let this moment slip away.

Sunday Morning – London

The next morning, Y/N woke up with a headache. The wine had hit her harder than she’d realized, and her mind was cloudy as she struggled to remember the events of the previous evening. She groggily reached for her phone, a part of her already regretting the decision to check her messages. Her eyes squinted at the screen as she scanned through the notifications.

Then, her gaze froze on one particular message.A message from Lando.

Y/N’s stomach flipped as the realization slowly dawned on her. The picture. The one she had meant to send him was of the flowers. The one she had accidentally sent, however, was the photo of her standing topless in front of the mirror.

“Holy shit,” she whispered, her heart pounding in her chest. Panic swept through her as she scrambled to find the photo in the message thread. There it was, clear as day. Her reflection. Her bare chest. Her hands barely covering herself. Her face flushed bright red as she stared at the image.

She’d sent it to Lando. Of all people.

Y/N immediately typed out a frantic message:

“Oh my God, Lando! I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to send that! Please delete it, I swear it was a mistake!”

She hit send quickly, holding her breath, hoping for a quick reply. But there was no immediate response. He was probably busy, and it was already late in Las Vegas.

Sunday Afternoon – London

Y/N spent the better part of the afternoon trapped in her own anxious thoughts. The hum of her apartment felt distant, the quiet punctuated only by the occasional sounds of passing cars and her own nervous pacing. Every few minutes, she would pick up her phone, check for any sign of a message, only to set it down again with a resigned sigh. The feeling of dread had been creeping in since the moment she realized the picture she had sent to Lando wasn't the one she intended.

It wasn’t just that she had sent the wrong photo—it was the fact that it was so… intimate. She’d never been one to be particularly free with her body, and now, in her slightly drunk state, she had sent a picture of herself in a moment of vulnerability. The picture wasn’t even something she had meant to capture; it was from another day, a rare moment when she had felt somewhat confident and playful in front of the mirror. She had never imagined that picture would fall into Lando’s hands, of all people. He didn’t just see it, though—he would think she had sent it to him on purpose. That terrified her more than anything.

Her mind raced, imagining his reaction. Would he laugh? Would he think less of her? Or worse, would he use it to tease her endlessly? She had a history of pushing people away, of keeping them at arm's length, and the thought of Lando seeing her like that—vulnerable and exposed—made her want to crawl into a hole and never come out.

Yet, the hours dragged on, and still, no reply from him. She had spent half the afternoon pacing in a tight circle, sending herself into a spiral of anxiety. The silence was deafening, making her mind churn even more. She had been waiting, waiting for him to reply, waiting for him to somehow absolve her of her own embarrassment, but nothing had come.

Finally, her phone buzzed in her hand.

Y/N’s heart leapt, her fingers hesitating over the screen for a moment before she opened the message. Her stomach dropped when she saw it was from Lando. The fear of what might be waiting on the other side sent a cold rush through her veins, but she forced herself to open the message anyway.

Lando’s reply appeared, and for a brief moment, she thought her heart might stop.

“Well, that wasn’t what I expected to see, but I can’t say I’m complaining. I’ve got to admit, it’s a bold move, Y/N. I like it. But I’ll let you off the hook for now—focus on the flowers, not the picture. But you’ll owe me a proper thank you later. ;)”

Her breath hitched in her chest, the relief that flooded through her was almost overwhelming. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t uncomfortable. He wasn’t judging her. He was… teasing her? In a gentle, understanding way? Y/N had half expected him to laugh it off, to make a joke at her expense. But instead, he had actually made her feel… okay. Maybe even a little desirable.

Her fingers hovered over the screen as she thought of how to reply. She didn’t want to make it awkward again. She didn’t want to let him think that she was overthinking it—although, truth be told, she was.

Taking a deep breath, she began typing her response, trying to keep the tone lighthearted.

“Win the race first and then we’ll see.”

It was the perfect answer, a playful way to keep the conversation going without making it seem too serious. She had always been good at keeping things light, at deflecting deeper emotions, and this was no exception. She could almost hear Lando’s voice in her head, playful and teasing, as she hit send.

She couldn’t help but smile at her own response. It was bold, just the right amount of challenge. Lando wasn’t going to let her off the hook that easily, though. She knew him well enough to know that if she was going to tease him, he would tease right back, and probably even harder.

And sure enough, his response came almost immediately.

“Challenge accepted. Be ready, Y/N. You’re not escaping me this time.”

The words sent a thrill through her, a mix of excitement and fear curling in her stomach. There was something about the way he said it—something that made her feel both exhilarated and terrified all at once. Lando had made his intentions clear. He wasn’t going to give up.

Her pulse quickened as she read the message again. You’re not escaping me this time. It felt like a promise, and at the same time, a warning. There was a sense of inevitability in his words, like he was planning on winning both the race and her.

Y/N smiled despite herself, the heat of the moment sweeping through her. There was no denying it. Lando had a way of making her feel something she hadn’t felt in a long time. He had a way of making her feel like she mattered.

And that scared her.

For a moment, she stared at the screen, biting her lip. How could she have gotten herself into this situation? She had spent the last six months trying to push him away, telling herself he was just another F1 driver with a history of fleeting relationships, and that she wasn’t going to get involved in something like that. Yet, here she was, teasing him back, looking forward to his response, waiting for him to come after her.

No, I can’t do this, she thought to herself. I can’t let him in.

But even as she thought that, she knew deep down that it was already too late.

She had been playing this game with him for months, and now, the stakes were higher than ever. He wasn’t backing down, and she wasn’t going to back down either—not yet, at least. She would wait. She would see what happened.

Taking one last deep breath, Y/N leaned back against the couch, setting her phone down beside her. She tried to focus on anything else, but her thoughts kept drifting back to Lando and his words.

“Be ready, Y/N.”

Was she ready? She didn’t know. She didn’t even know what being “ready” meant in this situation. Was it about giving in to the pull between them? Or was it about staying strong and keeping him at a distance, as she always had with everyone else?

She was still mulling over the idea when her phone buzzed again. Her heart skipped a beat, and she snatched it up immediately.

Lando had replied again, though this time the message was short, sweet, and completely different from anything she had expected.

“I’m serious, Y/N. You won’t be able to avoid me forever.”

Y/N’s stomach fluttered at his words. She could feel the heat rush to her cheeks as the weight of what he was saying settled on her.

He’s not going to stop, she thought. He really does want this.

And for some reason, that idea made her heart race.

Sunday Night – Las Vegas

Lando’s hands gripped the steering wheel with precision, the roar of the engine beneath him blending with the thunderous applause that reverberated throughout the stadium. His heart pounded as he pushed the car over the finish line, claiming victory at the Las Vegas Grand Prix. The lights in the sky seemed to explode in a cascade of colors as the race ended, and for a fleeting moment, Lando felt as if the entire world had paused to recognize his achievement.

But amidst the chaos of celebration, his thoughts weren't solely on the race he’d just conquered. They were on one person—the woman who had occupied his mind for the past few months, even if she didn’t know it. Y/N. The image of her accidentally sending him that picture, her barely covered figure from the mirror, had been lingering in his mind ever since. The playful teasing, the witty banter—they had opened a door to something he hadn’t anticipated. Lando’s thoughts, both sharp and racing as fast as the car he had just driven, kept returning to her.

She had challenged him, after all. "Win the race and then we’ll see."

He had won. Now it was time to prove he was serious about this, about her, about the promise he had made to show up for her. The thought of being with her, seeing her again, and experiencing whatever would come next had his pulse quickening with anticipation. He wasn’t about to let this chance slip through his fingers. Not now.

As he crossed the finish line, the radio crackled in his earpiece with the excited voices of his team. Cheers erupted from all sides, and yet, Lando’s smile was tinged with a hint of mischief. The celebration felt like a blur of noise and flashing lights, but he only had one goal in mind. The trophy, the accolades, and the high-fives from his crew—all of that could wait. What mattered now was Y/N.

He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips as he stood on the podium. He’d shown up for this race, fought hard for this victory, but in the back of his mind, it was Y/N who had been his motivator all along. That picture, that small moment of vulnerability, had become a symbol for him. A moment of bravery, of her letting down the walls she’d so carefully built around herself. And that was something he wasn’t going to forget.

Once the ceremony ended and the celebrations started to wind down, Lando didn’t waste any time. He made his way straight to the airport, bypassing the usual after-race parties in favor of a private flight back to London. He was determined to keep his promise to Y/N—he would go straight to her.

Monday Afternoon – London

Lando stepped out of the car and onto the rainy streets of London, his mind still racing from the victory he had just claimed in Las Vegas. The flight back had been long and filled with anticipation, the hours stretched out as he thought about the moment he had promised to make real. He had won the Grand Prix, and now, it was time to win her heart, if she would allow him to.

His heart pounded as he walked through the quiet streets, the city’s usual hum muffled by the rain. The sky was overcast, typical for London, but Lando didn’t mind. He was focused on one thing, and one thing only: Y/N. The text message exchange, the teasing, the unspoken chemistry—it had all led to this. He had made a promise, and now it was time to deliver.

As he approached her building, he felt a nervous flutter in his stomach. It had been months since they’d first met, and now everything felt so much more real. He had flirted, teased, and pushed the boundaries between them, but he knew this moment wasn’t about games. He had meant what he said—he wasn’t going to let her get away.

Lando looked up at the tall building in front of him, the weight of the situation finally sinking in. This wasn’t just a casual flirtation anymore. This was about proving he could be the man she needed. He wasn’t some passing celebrity crush or a racing driver who could be easily dismissed. No, he was here to show her that he was serious. About her. About them.

He rang the bell and waited, his breath shallow with anticipation. When the door swung open, he saw Y/N standing there, looking as beautiful as ever. But this time, she wasn’t just the quiet, shy woman he had come to know. No, now she was the woman who had sent him that picture—the one that had both embarrassed her and captivated him in equal measure.

Y/N blinked in surprise, clearly still trying to process the fact that Lando was standing in front of her. She hadn’t expected him to show up so soon. The night had been filled with texts, emotions, and nerves, but the reality of his presence hit her like a wave. She had been dreading this moment for days, not because she didn’t want to see him, but because she didn’t know how to handle the growing attraction between them.

“What are you doing here?” she stammered, trying to keep her composure.

Lando’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he stepped forward. “I won the race, didn’t I?” His voice was smooth, teasing, but there was an underlying seriousness that Y/N couldn’t ignore. “You told me to win, and then we’d see. Well, here I am. Ready to see what happens next.”

Her heart skipped a beat at his words. It was both a challenge and an invitation—an unspoken promise that whatever came next was up to them.

“I didn’t think you’d actually come,” she admitted, still grappling with the shock of his sudden appearance.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Lando’s grin widened, and he reached a hand up to gently tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. His touch was electric, and Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat. “I told you I would. I keep my promises.”

There was something in his voice, something sincere and direct, that made Y/N’s defenses start to crumble. She had expected him to be cocky, to keep things playful, but his presence here, standing in front of her like he had nothing to lose, was different. This was no longer just a game. This was real.

“Come on, Y/N,” Lando continued, stepping a little closer. “You know you can’t hide from me forever.” His voice lowered, his words almost a challenge, but his eyes were soft, full of something deeper. “You said once I won, you’d see. Well, I won. Now, let’s see where this takes us.”

Y/N felt her heart race, her breath growing shallow. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, but the one thing that stood out above all the others was how impossible it felt to deny the pull she felt toward him. She had resisted him for so long, pushed him away with her shy walls and her need for distance. But in this moment, with him standing so close, she realized that the walls she had carefully built were starting to crumble.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She needed to understand. Why had Lando gone through so much trouble for someone like her? Was it just another game to him, another flirtation that would eventually fade away, or was he truly serious?

Lando’s gaze softened, and for a moment, he simply stared at her as if considering her question. He stepped even closer, his warmth radiating toward her. His voice, when he spoke, was low and steady, as if he was speaking directly from the heart.

“Because I want you, Y/N,” he said simply. “And I’m not going to let you hide from me anymore. You’ve been running, but it’s time to stop. I want to see where this goes. No games. Just us. No more pushing each other away.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. The intensity in his eyes was enough to send a shiver down her spine. This wasn’t just Lando the driver, the flirt, the charming guy who always seemed to be surrounded by admirers. No, this was Lando, the man who was willing to take a chance on her, who wasn’t afraid to be vulnerable with her.

“I’m not sure I can just—” she began, but Lando placed a finger gently to her lips, silencing her.

“You don’t have to decide anything right now,” he murmured. “I’m not here to rush you. I’m here to show you that I’m serious. We’ll take this slow, but you need to know that I’m not going anywhere.”

Y/N stared at him, her heart hammering in her chest. Part of her wanted to pull away, to protect herself from the intensity of the moment. But another part of her, the part that had been secretly longing for something real, felt herself drawn to him. The truth was, she couldn’t deny how much she wanted him too. And now that he was here, making it impossible for her to ignore the chemistry between them, she knew that the moment of truth had finally arrived.

“I don’t know what to say,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. “I didn’t expect you to be so... serious.”

Lando smiled, a genuine smile this time. He reached out, gently cupping her face in his hands, his thumb brushing softly over her cheek.

“You don’t have to say anything right now,” he replied. “Just know that I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

The words hung in the air between them, charged with an unspoken promise. And for the first time in a long time, Y/N found herself letting go of her reservations. The walls she had built, the fear she had harbored, all seemed to fall away in the face of Lando’s sincerity. She could see it in his eyes—the truth behind every word.

And before she could stop herself, she took a step forward, closing the distance between them, and kissed him. It was gentle at first, a tentative exploration, as if they were both testing the waters, but it quickly deepened. Lando responded with equal fervor, his hands sliding down to rest on her hips, pulling her closer.

For that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the past, not the fears, not the uncertainties that had clouded her mind. It was just them, in that space, wrapped up in each other, finally allowing themselves to be vulnerable.

When they finally pulled apart, Y/N’s breath was ragged, her heart pounding in her chest. Lando’s forehead rested against hers, his breath as unsteady as hers.

“See?” he whispered, his voice warm and reassuring. “No more running.”

Y/N smiled softly, her heart still racing. “I guess we’ll see where this goes.''

Lando’s grin was playful, but his eyes told a different story—one of determination and hope. “I’m ready to find out.”

[rmview]

hard to handle | san, m.

summary: san, a cocky boxer with a notorious temper, meets his match in his resilient physiotherapist who refuses to quit despite his antics. he does a good job keeping you at a distance, but during a playful bout, unintentional feelings surface and cause things to get a little physical.

pairing: boxer!choi san x physiotherapist f!reader

genre: boxing!au, pwp, tension, smut

words: 4.2k words

warnings: explicit & messy & unprotected sex, mean!san, cocky dom!san, big cock!san, sub!reader, size kink, pinning/restraining, teasing, clothed grinding, biting, praise, marking, fingering, clit play, orgasm control, edging, handjob, penetrative sex, choking, tears, creampie, almost public sex (?) and voyeurism themes — they’re in a public room with the door unlocked, interruptions.

minors do not interact! | masterlist | more ateez content

“you’re not allowed to quit.”

the words came sharp and sudden, slicing through the air with the same precision san delivered in the ring. you froze mid-stretch, hands stilling over his sore leg. slowly, you turned to meet his gaze, confused by the uncharacteristic weight in his tone.

“…okay,” you replied cautiously, trying to gauge his mood.

san’s brow furrowed deeper, and the irritation etched across his face didn’t waver. “coach kim told me you were planning to leave,” he pressed, voice edged with something almost accusatory.

you blinked, letting his words settle. with how insistent and demanding san was, it wouldn’t have surprised you if that rumor had sprouted legs and started running. after all, you weren’t the first physiotherapist to step into this circus — and judging by the quick turnover before you, most had found the door far more inviting than the job.

but you stayed.

why? it wasn’t some deep-seated need to prove yourself or a traumatic past molding you into a masochist. no, it was simpler than that: the paycheck was solid, and once you learned to see past san’s gruff exterior and insufferable tendencies, he was just… tolerable. like dealing with an overgrown five-year-old throwing tantrums in the body of a professional fighter.

“well, coach is wrong,” you said, shrugging as you resumed your careful movements on his leg. your voice was calm, steady, not betraying the flicker of amusement rising in you at his sudden concern.

but san wasn’t convinced. his dark eyes narrowed as if searching your face for a crack, a lie, a tell.

“he said you’re thinking about it,” he countered, his scowl deepening. “you can’t leave. i need you.”

it wasn’t romantic — far from it. his words came out firm, almost commanding, the way you’d expect from someone used to giving orders. someone used to winning.

still, something about this moment felt different. the commanding façade faltered ever so slightly, and there was a flicker of something raw in his voice. vulnerability, maybe? you weren’t sure. but it was there, buried under the frustration, and you couldn’t ignore it.

what was his deal? what was it about the idea of you leaving that got under his skin?

you paused again, letting your hands rest gently on his leg as you glanced up. his expression hadn’t softened, but you could see the edges weren’t as sharp. your lips twitched, a small smile creeping in despite yourself.

“are you sure coach kim wasn’t just teasing you?” you asked, your tone light as you tried to ease the tension. “you know, considering your, er, personality? because honestly, i haven’t thought about leaving.” even though it’s the saner option, you thought, but didn’t say it out loud.

san huffed, leaning back against the mat, his lips pressed into a thin line. he looked at you for a long moment, his jaw clenching before he finally spoke. “are you calling me a problem?” his voice was low, sharp, and cold enough to send a chill down your spine.

your breath hitched as his piercing gaze locked onto you, unrelenting and unreadable. his tone alone made your stomach twist, but it was the way his leg pulled away from your hands that had you stiffening. the dismissal in his actions was clear — he didn’t want you there.

“i…” you faltered, feeling the weight of his words press against you. “of course not, san. you’re not the problem.”

your voice was soft, careful, an attempt to diffuse the tension. but his eyes narrowed, and his jaw clenched, signaling that your words did little to soothe his frustration.

“then leave,” he snapped, turning his head to the side, arms crossing over his chest like a fortress. “i don’t need you.”

his dismissal stung more than you’d like to admit, but you swallowed the lump forming in your throat. “i’m not going anywhere,” you replied, your tone hushed but steady, a small smile twitching on your lips. “i enjoy working with you too much.”

he scoffed, his lips curling into a mean sneer. “don’t bother lying, princess, you’re terrible at it.”

his words were biting, but the way he leaned slightly closer didn’t go unnoticed. he was testing you, waiting for you to crack under the weight of his intimidation.

“i’m not lying, i wasn’t lying.” you whispered, shaking your head. “just teasing…”

“well, stop it,” he growled, his voice dropping an octave. the air around you grew heavier as he glared at you. “it’s annoying. i don’t like it.”

“i know,” you murmured, your voice almost playful as you reached out, lightly brushing your fingers against his arm. “but that’s exactly why i do it. you’re kind of… cute when you’re like this.”

his eye twitched at your words, and the next thing you knew, he moved. with one swift motion, he shoved you back against the couch, his body towering over yours. his knee pressed into the cushion beside your hip, locking you in place, while his other hand braced against the armrest, boxing you in completely.

the weight of his presence stole the air from your lungs as he leaned in closer, his face mere inches from yours. the glint in his eyes was sharp, teasing yet dangerous, and his lips curled into a sneer that sent a shiver down your spine.

“cute?” he repeated, his tone mocking as he pinned your wrists above your head. his grip was firm but not enough to hurt, though the dominance in his posture had your heart pounding.

you stared up at him, wide-eyed and breathless, your cheeks heating under his intense scrutiny. “san…” you started, but your voice faltered.

he leaned in closer, his face mere inches from yours, his breath mingling with yours. “do you think you’re immune to being kicked to the curb just because you’ve been here the longest?” he murmured, his voice low and laced with warning.

your lips parted, a soft laugh escaping despite the way your body trembled under his. every part of you that he touched sent sparks flying through your veins, down your spine and between your legs. “you’d never. i’m your favorite,” you whispered, trying to mask your flustered state with a teasing edge, your words holding truth.

his expression hardened, but he didn’t pull away. instead, his grip on your wrists tightened slightly, his eyes boring into yours. “you wish,” he scoffed, though the slight hitch in his breath betrayed him. that and the subtle twitch of his cock in his shorts that you definitely felt from how you froze.

you weren’t sure whether to feel thrilled or terrified, but one thing was certain: you were treading dangerous waters, and san didn’t look like he was about to let you off easy.

“...this is a very risky, er, position,” you choked out softly, voice slightly strained. your gaze flickered between his narrowed brown eyes, to the door of the break room that you both were in, it’s door unlocked. your thighs rubbed together almost unknowingly and you resisted the urge to squirm. you were trapped.

“mhm.” san hummed dismissively, his gaze not leaving you. every twitch in your expression was noticed by him, especially the growing warmth on your cheeks and ears, that made him smirk. “and?”

“and coach could walk in...” you cleared your throat, mind fogging and something in the pit of your stomach clenching. you couldn’t imagine the look on the old man’s face if he walked in and saw you under the star fighter you were supposed to be healing. “it would be embarrassing.”

san chuckled, and your gaze snapped to his. it was mocking and you shivered — from fear or arousal, you didn’t know. “why? we aren’t doing anything... yet.”

“yet?” your heartbeat was wild, throbbing in your ears. you were sure san could hear it. if he was being so mean, he definitely could and was taking advantage of how meek you were. he knew you could never say no to him, not that you wanted to. “what do you — mmpf!”

the next thing you knew, you felt a tongue slipping past your lips, swirling inside your mouth. your breath was stolen from you, and with his free hand, san grabbed both of your wrists and pinned them to the couch, using his body to keep you in place.

it was a sloppy and dominating kiss. he explored and claimed every part of your mouth without pulling away. his body pressed against yours, and the kiss slowly grew more heated. his hand wandered down your sides, squeezing them softly for a moment before he pulled away from your lips, breaths mingled.

san studied your expression, eyes still narrowed in a cold glare. he smirked at how out of breath and dazed you looked, and pushed his knee between your thighs to part your legs. you were practically shaking and san didn’t even do anything yet.

“stupid.” he mutters out, tone rough and husky. leaning down to your neck, san began sucking on the sweet spot under your jaw that made you squeak.

his body pressed against you, almost uncomfortably, and you were practically trapped underneath him. your wrists were still pinned down, and you were hyperaware of every ridge and pane of his body on top of your curves. his broad chest, beefy arms, strong thighs and hard cock were suffocating you, and there was nothing you could do about it.

“you’re so stupid and cute, i could eat you right now.” he rasped, lifting his head to look down at you. his face was inches from your own. san looked obsessed.

you shivered at the unusual glint in his piercing glare, his smirk almost evil and you flushed. “eat me?”

“every last bit.” his voice was rough. a stark contrast to his actions. his hands would rub up and down your sides gently, his face still close.

a low and sensual growl spilled from between his lips as he kissed you again, lips rougher. he brought one of his hands up to thread into the hair at the base of your neck, tilting your head so he could have more access to your lips. his arm wrapped around your waist, tugging your body as close to him as possible.

everything was fine — as fine as san eating your face off could be — until you felt something long and hard press right against your clothed clit. “ngh... san!”

he merely chuckled against your lips, sharp teeth tugging your bottom lip, and then smoothing the sting with his warm tongue. “what?”

“i’m...” you started, but were unable to continue, gasping when you felt his hips grind against yours once more. small sparks shot from your clit to your spine, and you arched softly, voice a pitch higher. your pussy clenched around nothing. “...sensitive.”

“i know.” san groaned in your neck, and you felt his thick fingers of his free hand undo the drawstrings on your uniform scrubs. he silenced any of your gasps with another kiss, slipping his fingers into the front of your pants to push past your panties. you barely had time to register his next actions, until you felt the rough pads of his calloused fingers run over your quivering clit and folds.

your wrists were still held down with one of his hands as you moaned shakily, eyes squeezing shut. you felt san’s long fingers smear your slick all over the folds of your cunt, cursing lowly under his breath.

“fuck, you’re so wet.” he exhaled, his fingers circling your swollen clit and making you twitch. the feel of you writhing under him, feeling you squirm and hearing you moan, it only made san want more. he leaned down, his lips on your neck, nipping and sucking as he slipped a digit into your pulsing pussy, feeling your tight walls clench around him. “fuck.”

san gritted his teeth and, his body trembled with restraint.

“san... ah...” you squirmed softly as you felt his fingers pump and prod your spongy walls, gushing wetness the longer he stretched out your cunt. your eyes were glazed, and your arousal was dripping down his knuckles the longer he curled and scissored you open on the couch. “we... we shouldn’t be doing this.”

the sounds of your pretty voice, the feeling of your hips moving against his hand, the soft moans and gasps — san was losing himself in you. he added another finger, feeling the heat of your cunt around his digits, wanting to hear those sweet sounds of yours. “oh?”

“t-the door... it’s unlocked.” it was a miracle you could still think from how deliciously he played your cunt, but your ears were still hyperaware of the faint yells and sounds of sparring from the main gym. you throbbed around his fingers, almost in fear of being caught.

san grunted, reaching as deep as he could with the tips of his fingers before slowly pulling the digits out, and glancing down to see the way his skin glistened with your juices. “doesn’t matter.”

“but...” “but nothing.” san scoffed and sat back on his knees, undoing his shorts and pushing the cloth down along with his boxers so his hard cock sprung out. the veiny length was twitching and leaking precum from the angry red tip, and your flushed gaze was drawn to the sight while you rubbed your sore wrists. he used your slick smeared on his fingers to pump his hard cock, taking in the sight of you panting and sprawled half-naked on the break room sofa, thighs parted and folds glistening. “the only one coming in this room is you.”

your gaze met his smirking one and you tried to scowl softly, propping yourself up on your elbows shakily. “very funny.”

“i’m not done with you, princess.” san crawled back over you, pushing his face in your neck to nip at that spot that made you squirm, shifting between your legs.

you were so tired of him toying with you that you reached out to grasp his cock with your hands, experimentally stroking the hard length. your fingers couldn’t even wrap fully around the girth of his thick shaft, but that didn’t stop you. san let out a choked groan, his teeth gripping the flesh of your neck as you flicked your wrist at an agonizingly slow pace.

it was your first time fisting a cock and your hands were almost shaking. yet you loved the feeling of the large man practically turning into jelly above you from a few strokes. it only motivated you to try and squeeze tighter, pumping up and down, as your flustered gaze met his weak one. san was still trying to keep up his facade, but not for long.

san couldn’t hold back any longer. “that’s enough!” he hissed weakly, smacking your hand away and pulling you to lie back down on the couch, while he positioned the bulbous head of his thick cock at your entrance. “no more playing around.”

san was looking down at you, his eyes dark and focused, his body trembling with restraint that was held by a thread. he was so tightly wound and needed to cum now, before he actually lost it.

“o-okay...” your clit throbbed as he rubbed his cock against your wet folds a few times. your eyes were almost hazy from pleasure, and you pawed at the leather of the couch for stability. suddenly san couldn’t hold back any longer.

he grabbed one of your legs, to rest it over his shoulder, and pushed it up before he leaned over you, his body hovering above yours as he nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin on your neck. san’s hand gripped one of the small throw pillows for a moment, moving it underneath your hips, and then he slowly started to push his cock forward into your entrance.

as he sunk his thick shaft into your cunt inch by inch, the feeling of you clenching around him, the feeling of your breath catching in your throat, the way your body shook at the slow bottoming out — san’s eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head.

he grunted through his gritted teeth, his hand leaving the pillow by your hip to reach up and grasp your wrist, to hold it down again. san looked down at your face, his hips rocking slowly at first to get a feel of stretching out your small stretchy cunt, as his words came in short bursts. “god… ah… just like that…”

“san...” your voice was a soft breathless whimper, the sight of him above you making you quiver and clench more. all your dazed eyes could see was a beefy and sweaty san on top of you, jaw clenched and grunting, and you nearly came on the spot. “y-you... you... i hate you.”

he sight of you below him, so docile, flushed and soft, made his chest swell with something, his lips pulling into a slow mocking grin. “yeah?”

san was so desperate, so fucking hard at the thought of claiming you all night, to mark you and keep you under him. you had no idea how much he needed you. how could you, when he’d never said a word?

your cunt was so tight and warm. like nothing he’d ever had, or imagined in his long showers after training, eyes closed and fisting his cock for a quick release while he wished it was your cunt milking him instead. now, having you under him for real felt like a fever dream, and san’s hips had a mind of their own from the way his thrusts started to pick up pace.

“yeah.” your breath hitched softly, already forgetting your previous train of thought from the way san’s hips angled. the tip of his cock continued to repeatedly bully the spongy sensitive spot in you, making you see stars. “you’re so mean to me... all the time... a-and... and...”

you trailed off, eyes squeezing shut softly as you nearly found yourself cumming all over his cock. san was close too, and he just needed a few more thrusts before —

knock, knock.

fuck.

both you and san froze, and for a moment you felt your soul leave your body. whoever it was, could just twist the knob of the unlocked door and see you sprawled under san, with your leg over his shoulder, and his cock buried ten inches deep in your cervix.

“san, sparring practice in ten minutes!” coach kim called out cheerily from behind the door, unaware.

“we’ll be out soon.” san’s voice rumbled, and your wide-eyed gaze snapped to him, clenching almost in fear. san felt the twitch of your walls and glanced down at you, something almost evil lighting up in his eyes. “doc is still busy working on my bad leg, aren’t you doc?”

the color drained from your face when you felt san’s hips resume their thrusts, and you almost fearfully tried to push him away. shaking your head, you tried to stop him and whisper-yell, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to say a word without moaning shakily, so you stayed silent. something neither san, nor coach would let you do.

“is everything okay in there, doc?” coach kim asked, as you squirmed under san, his large palm holding your hip in place under him, and your ankle in place over his shoulder. his thrusts were still quick, aimed to make you and himself cum as soon as possible, whether coach walked in or not.

“answer him.” san’s lips brushed against your ear as he whispered hotly, smug. “you don’t want him to — fuck — come in, would you?”

it was hard to gather the courage to speak without screaming, especially when you opened your mouth, and the asshole above you took that as the exact moment to decide to rub your clit, coughing softly to disguise your noises. “i, uh, — ngh — we’ll be coming! in sometime... just... go on, coach... no need to — stop that! — wait up!”

you blurted between whimpers, trying to swat san’s wandering hands away as he pinched and rubbed all sensitive spots on your body, even dipping down to bite at your clothed nipples. you were still on edge as coach could walk in anytime, but that didn’t bother san. if fact, his hips pistoned into your cervix at a mind-numbing pace, all thoughts blown from your mind.

“you heard the man,” san grunted in your ear. his smooth skin was drenched in sweat, slight red marks left on his shoulders from your nails, and his brows were furrowed in concentration. “we have five minutes to finish.”

you let out a strangled noise when you felt the sudden onslaught of stimulation, his large palms grasping your hips as he fucked you hard. guiding your hips to match his, san made sure his hips were angled to fuck right up into your womb, smirking to himself when he noticed the slight outline of his cock bulging from your stomach. “t-there’s no way... that we can f-finish... in 5 minutes...”

“you wanna bet?” san rasped, forcing his mouth on yours, kissing you deep and slow, his own grunts and sighs barely muffled by his lips. san could feel you tightening around him, hear the breathy, soft pants coming from your lips.

how could he hold himself back when you responded so eagerly?

san pulled his lips away to look down at you, his hand leaving your leg to grasp at your throat, his calloused thumb resting on your jaw, and his grip firm. you looked so good under him like this.

“that’s it, princess,” san groaned, his hips pushing forward, his voice uneven from all the pleasure. he didn’t think he’d last the next 30 seconds, let alone 5 minutes.

but he wouldn’t cum before you. that would almost be insulting, making sure to use his free hand to fondle your swollen clit, bringing you to finish as soon as him.

“san!” you cried out, already feeling your release building. you tried to bite at your knuckles to keep yourself quiet and muffle all the whimpers and gasps that could reach outside the room. your nails dug into his biceps, eyes squeezing shut.

both of you were so close, san’s hips moving more erratically, and your body losing control. your voice was choked and a pitch higher, every noise you made streaming into soft sobs, tears blurring your eyes. you felt too good. “san... i’m gonna...”

san could feel your body trembling, your breathing getting shallower, and when you spoke, it only made him feel closer. he panted, his breath coming out in hot, uneven puffs, his nose rubbing against yours, his hand on your throat tightening.

“go on… squeeze that cunt of yours tight… i’m almost done.”

you didn’t need to be told twice, and when you squeezed so beautifully for him, san lost himself.

he came with a strangled groan, his movements stuttering, his hand squeezing on your throat for a moment. his eyes squeezed shut as white hot pleasure coursed through his veins, his mind blanking out and ears ringing. for a few moments, he thought he saw the pearly white gates of heaven, as he unsteadily pumped ropes after ropes of his hot cum into your pussy.

you could feel your insides being painted white while san grunted curses under his breath, the hot seed almost burning your walls. he made sure to thrust a few more times so his cum filled your insides snugly, fucking it deeper.

your overstimulated whimpers were what bought san back to reality, the ringing in his ears fading as he looked down at you, disheveled and naked waist down, his cock still buried deep in your cunt.

he was momentarily distracted by the sight of your puffy folds wrapped around the base of his cock, a creamy ring of cum around his shaft. he felt himself twitch, just barely suppressing the urge to fold you in a mating press and take you again.

“still hate me?” his voice was slightly strained. san couldn’t find it in himself to pull out yet. his gaze flickered down to your disheveled shirt stretched over your chest, and he couldn’t help but grasp your breast and squeeze. he’d play with them next time.

you were too out of breath to reply or swat his hand away, exhaling shakily as you slowly got down from your high. “i’m still deciding.” you needed a moment, or ten, to get your thoughts in order. “and you didn’t finish in 5 minutes, you took 8.”

“whatever.” san chuckled, nipping your cheek playfully.

he slowly pulled out, his muscles tired. but he wasn’t fast enough. because the next thing you knew, there was a soft click, and the two of you didn’t even have time to freeze, before the break room door swung open.

“san, you little shit, you’re late for — what the fuck!?”

author note: my first smut fic, yay! if this sounds familiar to you, it’s because this plot is heavily inspired by the love of my life, joo jaekyung from the bl manhwa jinx (he’s the best guy around)! please do interact and tell me what you think! also, i made the banner myself so pls show some love if you think it looks nice :3

tag list: @tsukisrants ; @dawn-iscozy ; @vixensss

[michellesneptune]

𐙚short astro observations (lowkey spicy, aka exposing myself)°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

i’ve noticed many women with heavy scorpio placements (especially sun) to be successful in scientific and medical fields. e. g. Marie Curie and Hedy Lamar, both bringing revolutionary ideas and discoveries to the world of physics, chemistry and technology. personally, i also know scorpio women passionately pursuing medicine! i think there’s something physical, deep and carnal in scorpios that makes them want to discover these things.

you should think twice before messing with someone that has heavy mercury in their chart while also possessing cancer placements. those individuals are extremely intelligent and sensitive simultaneously. thus, they will use their intellect to protect themselves no matter what. good luck winning with them lol, great manipulators.

idk if you’ve heard, but virgo placements are sooo kinky. virgos are associated with routine, practicality and health. but they’re connected to the earthy, bodily, primal pleasures more than others. they pay attention to things that others don’t. human biology=human sexuality, they find it oh so fascinating.

mercury in leo are great conversationalists! i love their big, warm energy. they’re down to talk about anything for hours. funny and charismatic, paired with significant virgo/gemini/cancer placements can gossip a lil too much… the type to know everyone’s business and secrets.

scorpio venus/8h are so insatiable and greedy in love (exposing myself rn😭) they want to posses all your thoughts, your feelings, know what you do behind closed doors. extremely afraid of betrayal, i feel like sometimes the anxiety might be a self-fulfilling prophecy🥲🥲 we sabotage ourselves a lot ok🥲

alsooo they’re said to be those super sexy dark femme fatales, but i just feel desperate and needy all the time and sometimes unable to be loved😭 pls help how do i unlock the divine feminine energy??

what’s surprising is that taurus mars (mars is in detriment in this sign) and cancer mars (mars’ debilitated here) are sooo giving in bed (i won’t tell you which one i am😶😶) they make for passionate lovers, they need to please.

thank you for reading, lots of love!

~Michelle

[kisses4themissus]

before mr & mrs... | Hwang In-ho x Reader

word count: 4.1k a/n: so tell me whatcha all think of their backstory pls pairing: hwang in-ho x fem!reader !! not proof-read properly !!

Masterlist | more of this couple

“Have you seen player 132?” il-nam asked you, he sat in his armchair, watching players drop to their deaths.

You didn’t look up from your binder you had filled of game ideas. “No, i haven't; i’ve not paid much attention to any of them really.” You said honestly, walking over to il-nam and handed him your latest sketch of a game concept. 

“He has potential, he didn’t hesitate to kill his teammate; it’s like someone i know all over again” He chuckled as you gave him a unimpressed look. “I was left with the bitch of my team, of course i was going to take the chance to take her head.” You sighed, sitting down beside il-nam in your own chair.

“We could use him.” il-nam pointed to the man on the screen, you looked up and studied the man on screen. He was very handsome, he was also very set on winning these games for his wife.

You bit your lip as he laughed along with other players, you turned back to il-nam. “Tomorrow i’ll start preparing the room for the VIPs..” You informed the host before excusing yourself to the office of files. Once the door was shut you went through files for the news players to find more out about player 132.

You had brought the files with you to your bedroom and read up on the player as you settled in for bed. It had been disappointing when you saw he had entered the games for is wife and unborn child; to pay for her liver transplant. You had turned to your walkie talkie on your nightstand and switched to another channel.

“Get me as much info as you can on player 132’s wife.” You spoke into the walkie talkie and immediately got a confirmation by the recruiter; a close friend of yours, who you had grown close while you both worked for il-nam as workers.

“Right away, game planner..” 

- - - - - - - -

Days later, you watched from the control room as another game was played as you planned it, you watched with a big grin.

“Chipper as always..” The recruiter chuckled as he walked into the vip room with a file in hand. “Always a pleasure seeing you, now hand it over!” You smirked at your friend and held your hand out which he took with his free hand and kissed the back, making you chuckle at his flirty advances.

“Now, I believe you requested these.” He handed you the files, a squeal left your mouth as you opened the file up and began reading over the report. Your eyes quickly ran over the page as you finally landed on the words you had secretly hoped would be there. “I have to show il-nam!” You closed the file and kissed the recruiter on his cheek before patting the other side. “I love you!” You squealed as you exited the control room and walked to il-nam’s penthouse.

You scanned your badge you had clipped to your shirt and was granted access. You knocked on the old man’s room door. “Come in.” He sighed out, fidgeting with his tie. “I have news about your possible winner!” You handed over the folder, he took it and read over the report and sighed before walking over to his tv and shuffled through the cameras to show the players eating their breakfast.

“He’ll be even more convinced to join you if his whole reason for winning this game is dead.” You pointed out, sitting on the arm of the chair. 

il-nam nodded and grinned at you. “Good job, finding this.” 

You bowed your head in thanks. You looked down at your watch and checked the time. “VIPs should be landing here in the next hour, sir.” you informed, getting up from the arm and walked to a cabinet he had in his penthouse, you unlocked the cabinet and pulled out his gold bedazzled owl mask, he would wear in front of the VIPs. 

“I assume you haven’t seen your gift?” il-nam asked, a small smile on his face. You tilted your head confused. “You got me a gift?” You questioned, the old man nodded at you. “Your gift is on your bed.” 

With that you left off to your level that was your space, you quickly walked into your room and squealed as a white 3D matte mask laid on your bed. You picked it up and smiled at it. 

“For my brilliant gameplanner.” - Host

You noticed the coat that laid on the back of your vanity chair. You looked around your bedroom for your outfit for the VIPs.

- - - - - - - -

You sighed as you pulled off your gloves as you walked to the elevators, you scanned your badge and pressed your floor.

It was another year of sadistic games you had planned out. You quickly placed your things away. As you hung up your clothes you heard the faint call from your walkie talkie you had left on your kitchen table. You sighed and walked to the kitchen and picked up.

“Gameplanner, the host is requesting you to his penthouse.” A manager called out, you answered briefly, grabbing your white mask and game binder, before walking to the elevators. You pressed il-nam’s floor which was the highest on the panel. You sighed, as the elevator stopped, the doors opened to show the recruiter; he smiled at you as he entered.

“Gameplanner.” He greeted, taking your hand and bring it to his lips. “Recruiter!” You smiled back. “il-nam called you up too?” He asked, pressing il-nam’s floor. “Yep, probably wants to discuss players and games..” You guessed.

As elevators opened to show il-nam’s house. You both walked into the penthouse and walked to his living room where he sat, someone with him, their back to you both.

“You called?” You asked, the old man smiled as he motioned for the other person. “This is our newest member.” The stranger stood up and faced you both. You and the recruiter recognized the man in front of you. “Ah, player 132! I’m glad you’ve taken il-nam’s offer.” The recruiter smiled at the man, holding out his hand.

The ex-player shook his hand. “The salesman, wouldn’t have made it here if you didn't give me that card.” He charmingly smiled.

il-nam chuckled at the two before turning towards you, “In-ho, this is our game planner, she’s also a former winner of the games; player 033.” In-ho raised an eyebrow as you held a blank face and stuck out your hand and firmly shook his. “Nice to meet you.” You greeted, taking you hand back and held closely to your binder.

“What will be his job exactly?” The recruiter questioned, you both looked as il-nam smiled at you three. “In-ho will help out with the staff, more specifically the soldiers, you see he’s a former cop!” il-nam explained, making you and the recruiter raise your brows at the job.

“Oh, il-nam i have the layout of games this year!” You perked up and opened your binder, in-ho watched as you flipped to a page and laid it down on the table for all to see.

In-ho read over the pages, he watched as you smiled at il-nam’s praises. You had been the sadist, who created the monstrous games, many players had threaten to kill you if they had gotten out of the game. “Impressive work.” In-ho complimented.

“Thank you!” You nodded before turning to il-nam. “I need to go unpack my things but just have the workers return it to me.” You smiled at the old man before excusing yourself back to your floor.

- - - - - - - -

It had been weird for another person to be in the control room with you. You had placed in-ho on cameras while you watched the players in their dorm, teams had begin to form liked you hoped. “How long have you worked for the host?” In-ho questioned as you both watched players bond. 

“Three years ago, I was offered after I had won, didn’t even get to play the final game, killed the girl in the dorm after she tried to suffocate me in my sleep.” you explained, tapping on the board in font of you. Several camera footage popped up on the screens.

“You know, a lot of players curse you out for creating such terror.” His words made you chuckle. “I’ve heard, you get used to it after one game.” You smiled at him for the first time. In-ho stared at you, a small smile on his face. You quickly dropped the smile and cleared your throat.

“I need to go figure out the lighting for one of the games, excuse me..” You brushed past in-ho and walked out of the control room.

- - - - - - - -

In-ho watched carefully as you and il-nam watched players fight for their lives, you had a content smile while the concept worked perfectly; your walkie talkie crackled on the kitchen table, you popped up and walked over with a smile as a deep voice went through.

“Wonderful work as always gameplanner.” The recruiter compliment, making you chuckle before walking to the hall to continue talking without disrupting the game.

In-ho turned to il-nam who watch the games with glee. “Are they together?” He asked, making il-nam turned to him confused.

“The recruiter and the planner, i mean.” In-ho clarified, il-nam glanced back at you and noticed how happy you were and shrugged.

“They’ve been close since they both started working for me, who’s to know…they might even be married?” Il-nam guessed, thinking back to how you both always threw flirty glances and even affection every time you had been around each other. 

In-ho nodded and sat back in his chair, his mind drifting off into what your relationship could be with the recruiter.

A few minutes had passed and you walked back to your chair, a smile still on your face. “Sorry gentlemen, the recruiter was just giving feedback!” You bowed your head to the pair apologetically, il-nam smiled and wave you off.

As you all watched the game finish, il-nam had gotten up and walked to his bedroom for the night, leaving you and in-ho alone in the penthouse. You both ad began to pick up, you collected the drink glasses while in-ho stacked the paperwork in order. A peaceful silence fell over the room, the sound of glass lightly clinking and the water running filled the background. 

“So, is he your husband?” In-ho questioned, handing you another glass. You glanced over, confused. “Who?” You tiled your head.

“The recruiter, i mean you both seem close.” In-ho watched as you chuckled, setting the freshly washed cups in the drying rack. “And be mrs recruiter?” You smiled and laughed a bit.

“Never, i only humor him, when we were workers together I had a massive crush on him.” You turned to in-ho grinning. “Why do you ask?” You raised a brow, hoping he’d confess.

“Nothing, il-nam wanted to know what were you both exactly.” He lied, you sighed and nodded. “Make sense, il-nam always tried pushing us together, he told us many, many years ago he saw the recruiter as a younger son who couldn’t see the pretty girl in front of him.” You chuckled at the memory, making in-ho nod, he quietly took in your relaxed features.

“Why did you join the games?” In-ho questioned, quickly noticing how you tensed up for a second before responding. “My situation wasn’t perfect, forced to marry some older guy for money; said guy didn’t earn money legally.” You paused, your memories coming back, you paused holding onto the sink. “He was nice and loving to me at first, then one day I had found out the truth of his source of income, he threated to kill me if i ever said anything.” You paused.

In-ho watched as you avoided his gaze and continued to look at the glass cup. “Turns out there was a rat in his little group, they all thought it was me…I think you know what happened next, I had nothing, so i got offered to play the games, won and divorced the asshole once i had gotten out.” You finished explaining. In-ho went to talk but you cut him off.

You quickly dried your hands before turing to in-ho. “I need to go to bed, goodnight in-ho.” You nodded and excused yourself to the elevators.

- - - - - - - -

The next morning, the VIPs would arrive, you had prepared everything to be perfect. In-ho sighed as he walked into the luxury room, you stood in the middle, directing the waiters.

“Ah, in-ho perfect timing!” You smiled and walked over to him. “What do you think?” You grinned, showing off your newest game idea, the room had been decorated like the outdoors, an adult sized playground filled the area, other playground toys littered around. ”What game is it?” In-ho asked, confused to the playground. 

“The floor’s lava.” You smirked and pressed a button on the control panel, the floor had begin to pull back, the playground structures stood tall, in-ho smirked as it would drop players to their deaths. He grinned and nodded at you. “Amazing!” He chuckled as you pressed the button once more and the floor moved back into place.

“Thank you.” You smiled, looking at in-ho. You both stared at each other with admiration; In-ho cleared his throat and excused himself to the control room, you nodded and watched as he walked out of the room. You sighed, placing a hand on your forehead, it was foolish to think he’d move on from his wife that fast.

“Troubles?” Il-nam questioned, walking into the room. You shook your head and sat down on the nearest sofa. “It’s nothing.” You tried to dismiss, il-nam chuckled and sat down beside you. “You have this look where it isn’t, now what is it?” The old man smiled, comfortingly at you. With a sigh you turned to il-nam. “I thought in-ho and I would be closer by now, I mean we both work around each other constantly, ask each other for everything; I mean he got me to open up about my first marriage.” You sighed, placing your head in your hands.

Il-nam chuckled and patted your back. “Seems i have a new blind daughter?” 

At his words you picked up your head and looked at il-nam confused. “What do you mean?” you questioned. The old man just chuckled at you.

“He looks at you with much more then admiration.” Il-nam smiled at you. The old man quickly got up from the couch and helped you up before turning to the entrance. “The VIPs should be here anytime now; go get ready.”

You nodded at il-nam and got up to go get dressed.

- - - - - - - -

The soft clicks of your heels filled the control room, you walked over to the control panel and watched as the players began to wake up. You silently looked over the monitors before turning back to the elevator doors. You stopped as in-ho walked into the room, a black matte 3D mask on him.

“Looks nice.” You complimented, he bowed his head, in thanks. “Now i’m official.” He joked, making you smile, you leaned over and fixed his collar which had flipped up due to the mask. “Now you look perfect.” You sighed, smiling at in-ho under your mask.

- - - - - - - -

Another year of twisted children’s games had arrived, you were excited as always. You sat in the limo as il-nam had his driver pick you up from your small apartment. “Are we heading straight to the island?” You questioned, digging through your bag for your binder. “Actually, we have another to pick up.” Il-nam smiled at your confused look.

The limo pulled up in front of a small convenience store with apartments above, you hadn’t looked up from your binder, too busy making notes for the games that were to be played that year. The limo door opened and quickly shut.

“Good evening.” In-ho greeted. You looked up from your binder and smiled at in-ho’s appearance. His hair was now combed back, his eyebags had disappeared; he seemed more put together then he did the previous year. “In-ho.” You greeted, in-ho scooted closer to you in the limo, leaving il-nam by himself on the opposite side, the old man smiled and sipped his champagne.

You tried to focus back on your notes while in-ho and il-nam went over their time apart, you had listened as il-nam and in-ho talked about the newest players.

“The recruiter told me this year is a good batch.” You chimed in, flipping the binder page, viewing the photos il-nam had sent to you as the workers built the stage for the games. Both the other men nodded at your words and began talking over the workers.

You watched as the limo loaded onto the boat, you sighed. Laying back in your sleep you slowly drifted off as the distance sound of the waves hit your ears.

In-ho leaned back a bit, a glass of whiskey in his hand. Il-nam chuckled as your head slowly reached in-ho’s shoulder, “I suggest we need cameras in the-!” In-ho stopped himself as your head laid on his shoulder, he quickly fixed your head to be comfortable before leaning back further.

“You two are cute together.” Il-nam grinned, finishing off his glass before placing it in the cup holder. In-ho smiled bashfully, lookin over to see you peacefully asleep; you had stressed over the games to even properly sleep.

“I don’t think she sees us like that.” In-ho sighed out, il-nam laughed at his words. 

“You both are blind; she hasn’t looked at anyone with that look since she was a circle worker.” Il-nam confessed, both men watched as you fidgeted in your sleep but soon stopped as in-ho wrapped and arm around your shoulder to bring you in closer.

“You think so?” 

“Oh i know it.”

- - - - - - - -

The three all stood in the control room as the players photos popped up under your feet. You nodded as the board began to fill up. As you paced the board; you stopped as a familiar face posed right below your heel.

“Gameplanner?” In-ho asked, noticing your reaction to a player, he looked down confused at the player and took note of the number before ushing you to the control panel to fix the game’s lighting.

Later that night in-ho had walked to the office where all files of players and their backgrounds where kept and began to go through the computer in hopes to find the player that stunned you earlier.

Player 068, or as you knew him as your first husband. Apparently the man had been caught with his illegal money and was sentenced; once out he was attacked by loan sharks who he had grown a massive debt to, leading him to join the games.

In-ho scoffed at the photo, it was the same asshole who almost killed you. Quickly in-ho logged off and walked back to the elevators and pressed the button for your floor.

You quietly made tea in your small kitchen, you had been shook up the rest of the day, shocked to see your ex make it out of the first game. The sound of shoes came from behind you.

You turned and was surprised to see in-ho in your floor of the building. “What are you doing here?” You questioned, grabbing two mugs down from the cabinet.

“I wanted to see if you were alright after earlier, you seemed stunned.” He explained, setting down his black mask on your table, you sighed and brought him a cup of tea and sat down in front of him. “I’m sorry, seeing someone you didn’t expect to show up will do that to you…” You sipped on your chamomile tea. In-ho sighed and scooted his chair closer to you.

“He can’t do anything anymore, you have power in the control room to kill him within the first second of the next game, i’ll even tell the soldiers to have him killed in the dorm right now if you wish.” In-ho placed his hand on your knee making you breakdown as he looked at you while concern and love in his eyes.

You threw yourself into him and cried into his shoulder.

“He didn’t even suffer the way i did..” You cried, wiping your tears as they fell. In-ho shushed you and rubbed the back of your head in comfort. “It’s alright.” In-ho reassured.

- - - - - - - -

Days had passed and you were slowly getting back to your regular personality, since that night you had noticed in-ho had rarely left your side, he’d even began to sleep on your couch while you slept in your bedroom, to reassure your fear that your ex would attack you in the night.

You sighed as you peacefully laid in your bed, your room door opened giving you the perfect view of in-ho who laid propped up on your couching reading whatever book you had laying around. You played with your comforter before tugging it away from you, slipping on your slippers you walked over to the couch and tapped in-ho’s shoulder.

“Come laid down with me?” You asked, making in-ho stopped breathing, you had looked beautiful, messy bedhead, your silk pajamas, the look of love in your eyes. “Of course.” He nodded and followed as you walked into your bedroom.

He took in the decor as he got into the bed behind you, he hesitated to place his arm over your waist. You turned around to face him and smiled shyly before wrapping his arm around your waist. “Il-nam would lose it if he saw us together right now.” In-ho commented making you chuckle and nod. “He would go “i knew you two would be good together”, typical matchmaker…” You both chuckled at your impression of the old man.

In-ho moved his hand to cup the back of your head and rested it on his chest. You both peacefully fell asleep. You wished it had been a peaceful night.

You both were woken up to the sound of the managers voices coming from the walkie talkies. “Frontman? Gameplanner?” In-ho grabbed the device from your bedside and answered, you got up and grabbed your coat. 

“A player had gotten loose, we’ve trapped him in the red light field!” They informed you both. “Which player?” In-ho questioned, “Player 068 sir.” 

You watched as in-ho got up from your bed and walked to the living room and got dressed, you following behind him, your white mask in your hand. As he was on autopilot, in-ho walked to the field, his gun in hand and you following behind.

The doors opened to show the pink managers and soldiers surrounding the player. In-ho knelt down to look at the man. “Trying to leave?” He asked, his gloved hand roughly grabbing the players jaw. The man didn’t speak and just shook his head in fear of the masked man. “Did you let your ex-wife go?” In-ho asked, holding the man in a tight grip.

In-ho looked at the man with disgust under his mask, cocking his gun he stopped and turned to the crowd and found you standing behind soldiers. “Gameplanner, why don’t you get this pleasure.” In-ho stood up and held his hand out to you.

You took his hand and walked to face your ex-husband, your mask forgotten on the dirt floor. 

The man looked at you, pleading to live. “C’mon honey, remember the good times we had!” He tried to grab your coat but in-ho stomped on the man’s hand making him yell out in pain. “You bitch, having men do your dirty work!” He yelled out, without heistain you stood tall and aimed the gun.

BOOM!

You watched as his body fell back, blood spilling on the dirt. You turned to see in-ho with a unreadable look, his mask now on the ground as he glared at the body. 

“In-ho.” You watched as he turned to you and quickly wrapped you in a hug and kissed your cheeks as tear began to fall; your ex-husband was finally gone, now longer haunting your mind. “I’m here, i have you.” He reassured, you pulled back and stared at in-ho with admiration and leaned in.

In-ho chuckled and kissed your tenderly, ignoring as the pink workers and soldiers began to clean up. “I’ll alway keep you from harm.” In-ho whispered against your lips making you kiss him once more eagerly.

- - - - - - - -

Il-nam chuckled as you both stood in front of a courthouse, your marriage certificate in hands you both kissed for the photo.

“It's a good photo of you both!” The old man smiled at in-ho who chuckled at the framed photo on his desk. 

“Thank you.” In-ho thanked him before searching through paperwork.

“Gentlemen.” A smooth voice made the pair look up to see the recruiter in his suit. In-ho and il-nam shook his hand in greeting before they all dove into paperwork of the next game.

A bit had gone by before the front door to in-ho's and your shared apartment opened. You were greeted to the sight of the three men crowding over your dining table. With a chuckle you placed down your bag on the couch and watched them go over plans.

“Gameplanner.” The recruiter smiled and kissed your hand. From the corner of your eye you smirked as in-ho leaned back in his chair watching you both, but playing it as if he was stretching. “Getting close to my wife?” In-ho questioned as you both parted away from each other.

You chuckled as the recruiter fixed his tie and hair before sitting back down. “It’s only a greeting to the mrs frontman..” The recruiter tried to defend, making il-nam chuckle at the reactions.

In-ho smirked while you gave the recruiter a look of distaste, “He should be mr gameplanner, i’ve had my title longer!” You scoffed, sitting down next to your husband.

“Alright then, it was a simple greeting to mrs gameplanner.” 

You smiled at the re-wording and went back to helping il-nam with the scattered papers.

taglist girlies : @snowtargaryen @menabuser16 @azusdump @jspidey5 @annasnape7 @macnbriee @ookybatt @sasha-swftie @moonxnite @ninglovr

mr & mrs girlies: @colorwastaken @aphoenixnamed-angel @sooyasya @fries11 @lover-girl009 @skywalker0809 @fallout-girl219 @scarlettlupinblack

[mrs-weasley-reid]

AUGUST REC FICS

Hello, my sweets!! Here I am, once again, for yet another month of reading and living vicariously through our one and only Reader. I haven't read much this past month, and most of these sweet authors are people I follow (and shockingly, some are my mutuals, too !!! I'm too much of a fangirl to believe it's true). Give these gorgeous, spectacular writers a ton of love. They all deserve it so much, considering they're blessing us with such amazing work for free. Like. Comment. Reblog. The equivalent of a five-star review

Like always, I will be going based on what I've read recently and not by the date the fic was posted. Reminder to please respect these writers. Some contents are 18+. MINORS should not be interacting in any way.

— ✿ — ✿ ✿ — ✿ ✿ ✿

Spencer Reid

✿ a muted shade of green by @dalamjisung ↳ the flow of this fic was so smooth my jaw dropped down on the floor as i read through (writer's first reid fic, and it was chef's kiss)

✿ hearts aligned by @raekensluver ↳ OMG this one had me melting. roommate spencer is such a dream

✿ sick love by @misserabella ↳ guilty pleasure unlocked. a wonderful reading session filled with interesting discoveries

✿ behind closed doors by @incognit0slut ↳ i loved binging this so much !!! was a giggling, kicking mess while reading this one; and it has four parts ! we're so spoiled

✿ kiss it better by @nereidprinc3ss ↳ tmi but was having an episode of mild anxiety attack, and this saved me in the middle of the night, giggling myself to sleep, so thank you for such amazing work x

✿ dead of night & nightvisions by @cxrrodedcoffin ↳ lol i read this at work and had to fight battles not to make any facial signs that i was consuming kinky content. the second part was another level, i was cackling like a witch

✿ much ado about nothing: act iii, scene v & act iv, scene i by @incognit0slut ↳ act iii, scene v left me speechless, reader didn't fold and i took that as a win. act iv, scene i played with my emotions lol

✿ just a number by @reidsdaisies ↳ i became a stand-up actress while reading this because it's overwhelmingly spicy and filled with tension i had to provide comedic relief for myself

✿ untittled req response by @mandarinmoons ↳ no because i saw my reblog post of this and i immediately snorted and then laughed some more after rereading it. pipe cleaner will never not be funny to me

✿ poison me, i'm fine by @gghostwriter ↳ no because this one needs more attention ?????????????? i loved reading this so much i was so tempted to pull my heart out and ship it to pau, show how crumpled it was after reading

✿ my best colors for your portrait & my face in every place by @none-of-your-bullshit ↳ i wasn't lying when i said august is for angst and i immediately gobbled this up after seeing it. the way my chest was so tight but also smiling because the writing style is amazing got me looking like a lunatic

✿ cute, outraged genius by @lavenderspence ↳ tina got me laughing like a gremlin. it's so adorable she made me fall in love with spencer all over again

✿ another untitled req response by @mandarinmoons ↳ sorry, sweethearts, ket just couldn't be bothered with titles lmao. secret lover reader is my favorite lover, sooooo you all will enjoy this cutie patootie creation

✿ one single thread of gold by @gghostwriter ↳ you'll overdose of sweetness. it's so adorable and a great way to feel giggly about spencer reid.

✿ for the fear of falling apart | part one by @pathologicalreid ↳ i haven't read the rest of the parts but mhmmm this was DELISH. well-written creation that made me show emotions while reading at work. my coworkers asked me my my eyes were so wide and i think that says a lot at how great this is

✿ second to none by @raekensluver ↳ ooooo this one got my blood boiling in a good way

✿ untitled work by @sincerelybubbles ↳ adorable stuff make me melt especially when it's a spencer one

— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦

Aaron Hotchner

✦ darling, in any life series by @hotchfiles ↳ at this point are we even surprise im including yet another series form lari here ? anywayyy, i love me some old flame trope

✦ picket fence dream by @hotchfiles ↳ this is a new part from the choiceless hope series and i gobbled it up. i was screaming when i read this

✦ tells by @ssahotchnerr ↳ first thing i read in the morning, and i sobbed from the overwhelming sweetness

✦ silver by @solardrop ↳ okay but this was so adorable ??? plus im def one of those gals who tried to throw herself on him, maybe even catapult myself

✦ sympathy for the devil by @hotchfiles ↳ nosebleed. spice level is not as high as i make it seem but the writing really got me sweating. just read it, you'll understand what i mean

✦ spending time with you by @lavenderspence ↳ no because TINA CALLED ME OUT WITHOUT CALLING ME OUT. i was slightly offended. the gasp i gasped was so loud asdkfnkg. but it is adorable, go read it pls pls

✦ doctor, love by @none-of-your-bullshit ↳ i love when reader slaps the character with some reality like a seasoned raw steak.

sorry, not sorry if this post is filled with lari. I reread her works religiously, so here are my favorites from hers truly:

✦ help me hold onto you ↳ oh, this is like crack for me, and i always come crawling back no matter how hard i try to stay sober

✦ half asleep takin' chances ↳ still waiting for future aaron somewhere out there

✦ choices ↳ gonna be honest with everyone this one makes me wanna deck aaron hotchner and then deck reader for folding so easily and also deck myself because im no better than reader

✦ quis ut deus? & daniel 12:1 ↳ my fave series from lari and i will never not reread them over and over and over and over again because i love it so much idk what's the appeal on me but i love it and i want this framed and buried with me even if it's unfinished

I haven't had a lot of time to visit the good ole "for you" feed in a while, so I apologize for missing all the amazing work every writer has put out this month. I will make it up to you, I promise! And if you'd like, you can send me works or mention me so I can read certain creations that you deem noteworthy for the next rec fic month!

love lots, ker x

[eccentricwritingbaby]

home

lewis hamilton x reader

summary - a small drabble of lewis coming back home from a race to his wife and babies. 

masterlist 

-

8:26 pm.

that’s when lewis’ flight was landing. the captain had announced it over the intercom and he let out a breath. it was currently seven, so there were only a few more hours before he’d be home. 

lewis loved racing, he loved the adrenaline, the atmosphere, he loved winning. but he loved you more. and he adored your children. you had a small three year old girl, isabella, and just had a newborn boy, noah. since noah was so small, you had stayed back the past few races and lewis couldn’t stand it. after an exhausting race or an energetic high, all he wanted to see was your smiling face. 

having dated for three years, married for four, so overall by his side for seven - lewis hated to be apart from you. you were his rock, his comfort, his encouragement, and his support. with your job being beyond flexible, you rarely missed races - which lewis is now learning was something he took great advantage of. when isabella was born, he was on break between seasons, therefore when it started again she was old enough to tag along with you both. noah being born mid-season, lewis was experiencing a separation anxiety like no other. he was itching to see you, to hold you, to hug and kiss his babies, and overall to relax.

he was constantly tense when you weren’t around, worried about yours and the kids well being along with the pain and stress from being apart. not many were able to tell other than a few superfans who read deeply - noticing when asked about you in interviews his eyes would lightly gloss over, eyebrows knit slightly, and his words would come out with a tinge of melancholy. or when he would be in his driver’s room after a race, alone, and toto would walk by, noticing his strongest driver showing his only weakness. 

but even though the separation hurt, there was nothing like coming back home.

8:26 pm.

his flight has landed and lewis is jumping out of his seat with newfound energy. grabbing his things in haste, he rushes off the private plan and towards the car waiting for him. it was too much of a disruption for you to pick him up this late, the kids already put down and you most likely nodding off yourself. therefore lewis opted for a car, and thirty minutes later he’s exiting it and walking towards your shared home. his footsteps are filled with anticipation, a small jump to them as he holds himself back from practically sprinting into the home. 

from inside, you hear the keys fumbling around from your place on the couch. you swiftly and softly stand, making your way to the door in order to rush into your husband’s arms as soon as possible. the past weeks have been hard on you as well, wanting to be by your husband's side constantly. you didn’t want to be apart from him a second longer than necessary, flinging open the door before lewis had a chance to unlock it. you don’t even let him get a chance to enter before your arms are flying around his neck, his own dropping what he held and trading it to hold you instead. you both let out long breaths, a show of your anxiety finally exiting after being apart. 

“missed you so much,” he mumbled into your shoulder, slightly rocking you both back and forth. 

“missed you so much too,” you sigh into his neck, breathing in the scent you loved so much. him. separating slightly, but not completely, he leans down to meet your lips in an eager, yet tender, kiss. after the time apart, the first kiss back always left you tingly, the feeling always migrating from your lips to your entire body. it was a spark that you always had with lewis, yet came into full effect whenever he was gone for a while. 

you separated again, only slightly, and giggled into him, “i love you, lew,”

“i love you too, baby,” he smiles sweetly, dropping down to plant a few more pecks to your lips before grabbing his bags and going to move inside the house.

he smiles as he walks through the home, smelling the candles you always light after dinner, spotting the little indent from where you sat on the couch, seeing the small playmat that was still set out from where noah most likely was while you were cooking. noticing the plate of food wrapped up on the counter - the leftovers you always leave out for him to eat when he gets back.

he smiles as you drag his luggage over to the bottom of the stairs and make your way into the kitchen, moving to heat up his dinner for him. he hops up onto the counter as you hand him the plate, you standing in between his legs. he eats and recounts the entirety of the weekend, as per your request, telling you about the drama, the race, the interviews and everything else. 

you both were too wrapped up in each other to notice a tiny pitter patter of feet making their way down to meet the both of you. isabella had heard slight commotion and knew her dad had finally arrived home. ever the daddy’s girl, she needed to see him as soon as possible and climbed out of her bed, pushed back the hair from her face, and went on her excursion to the kitchen. 

“dada?” she whispered from the doorway. both you and lewis turned, slightly shocked she was awake, but also heartwarmed at the little sleepy girl in her footie pajamas. 

“hi, bug,” he whispers back, sliding off the counter and making his way to her. he brings her up to sit on his hip, hugging her as she holds onto him in return, “i missed you, lovebug,” whispering into her hair. 

“missed you too, dada,” she burrows herself even further into her father, “don’t wike when you go,”

“aw, bug, i don’t like when i go either,” he chuckles a bit. you slide out of the kitchen after cleaning up lewis’ plate, letting the father-daughter duo have their moment. making your way to his bags, you lift them and begin the trek upstairs towards your bedroom. once inside you check on noah, still too little for the nursery as he sleeps in a bassinet beside your bed, and then move around to unpack your husband’s essentials in order for him to go to sleep easier tonight. 

as you’re bustling around between your bedroom, the adjoining bathroom, and closet, you start to hear the small voices soon approaching. lewis saunters in, isabella still tightly holding him, and he makes his way to the smallest in the family. cooing lightly at the little boy, trying not to wake him, lewis basks in the feeling of his family all together in one room. something he will never take for granted.

you walk towards him, letting him know all his essentials were unpacked if he wanted to get ready for bed and he nods, dropping a kiss to your cheek as a perfect thank you. moving to put isabella on your bed, she begins to whine, not wanting to let go of her dad. 

“i’m just gonna have a shower, lovebug, i’ll be quick, okay?” he speaks softly to her.

“pwomise?” she asks, eyes giving the most puppy dog expression you had ever seen. 

lewis chuckles at her sweetness, leaning down to kiss her head, “i promise, bug, and then you can sleep with mummy and daddy tonight,”

“otay,” she giggles, crawling across the bed to get under the covers and make herself comfortable. you and lewis share a laugh as he makes his way into the bathroom, about to take a record-breakingly quick shower in order to be back with his girls soon enough. 

finally ready for bed, he exits the bathroom, seeing you and isabella cuddled together as she attempts to fight sleep, waiting for her dad to be back soon. 

“scoot over,” he smiles, getting into the bed. isabella scooches over, her dad finally arriving in the bed and laying an arm out. you make your move to lay on it, also wanting to be close to him. now that lewis is comfortably laying down, isabella crawls on top of him, deciding her spot for the night would be right on his stomach, head nuzzling straight into his neck. you copy her actions, moving closer to your husband and laying your head on his other shoulder. 

lewis sighs in content and happiness, home with his two best girls cuddled into him and his little boy sleeping away just a foot over. he pulls his arm that was behind your head to wrap around your waist, bringing you closer to him. his other arm wraps around isabella’s back, gently stroking her to sleep. he can be world champion seven, eight, times - yet nothing beats being home with his family.

-

[galaxy-stardust]

Simon Ghost Riley x you

He meets your brothers

You stretched out on the couch, a lazy smile on your lips as you watched your younger brothers bicker over the video game.

“Mate, you’re absolute trash at this,” your youngest brother groaned, tossing his controller onto the coffee table.

“Oh, shut up,” the other scoffed. “Like you did any better.”

You chuckled, sipping your drink. It had been a long time since the three of you had spent a proper sibling day together. With life pulling you in different directions—your work, their own responsibilities, and the fact that you had a relationship now—these moments were rare.

And Simon was away on a mission. Again.

You missed him, but at least today had been a good distraction. You’d spent the evening catching up, watching movies, drinking, and stuffing yourselves with junk food.

The clock was creeping toward midnight, and you were just about to declare a rematch when the sound of the front door unlocking made you freeze.

Your brothers went quiet too, eyes darting to the door. You felt your heart leap into your throat—only one person had a key to your place.

The door swung open, and there he was.

Simon.

Dressed in his usual dark gear, his mask pushed up just enough to reveal his strong jawline. His eyes immediately sought you out, dark and intense, and you felt the breath hitch in your throat.

“Simon?” you breathed, already moving toward him. “What—”

“Mission wrapped up early,” he murmured, his voice low and rough from exhaustion. “Didn’t feel like spending the night on base.” His eyes softened slightly as he reached for you, his gloved hand settling on your waist. “Missed you.”

Warmth spread through you, and you leaned into him without hesitation. “I missed you too.”

A loud, exaggerated cough broke the moment.

“Uh, hello?” your youngest brother piped up, eyebrows raised. “Are we just gonna ignore the fact that a giant masked man just walked into the apartment like it’s normal?”

You sighed, stepping back from Simon slightly but keeping close. “Right. Simon, these are my younger brothers.” You turned to them with a smirk. “Boys, this is Simon.”

The older of the two narrowed his eyes slightly, crossing his arms. “So this is the guy, huh?”

Simon tensed subtly beside you, clearly already assessing the situation like it was a battlefield. “Yeah. That a problem?”

Your youngest brother, the more reckless of the two, smirked. “Depends. You treating our sister right?”

Simon’s hand on your waist flexed slightly, and you knew he was fighting the urge to say something cocky. But instead, he simply met their gazes head-on. “Better than anyone ever could.”

Your stomach flipped at the certainty in his tone.

The boys exchanged a look before your older brother sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Alright. I’ll admit, that was a decent answer.”

Your youngest grinned. “Still gonna have to test him, though.” He nodded toward the gaming console. “You any good?”

Simon arched a brow. “At what?”

“Video games.”

You bit your lip, looking up at Simon. “You don’t have to—”

But Simon was already moving toward the couch. He plopped down, grabbing a controller with an air of confidence that had both of your brothers watching warily. “Load it up.”

You hid your smile as your brothers scrambled to set up the game, a competitive energy filling the room.

Simon leaned back, glancing at you with that familiar spark in his eyes.

“I’ll win,” he murmured, low enough for only you to hear.

You shook your head, biting back a laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”

His gloved fingers brushed against yours briefly. “And you love it.”

Yeah. Yeah, you did.

You leaned against the armrest of the couch, watching the unfolding war between your brothers and Simon with barely concealed amusement.

The match had barely started, but already, the tension in the room was thick. Your younger brother was leaning forward, tongue poking out slightly in concentration, while your older brother had a deep frown of determination on his face. Meanwhile, Simon sat relaxed, one arm draped over the back of the couch, controller in hand, completely unbothered.

That should’ve been their first warning.

Because Simon *never* looked relaxed unless he was in full control.

“You sure you’ve never played this before?” your younger brother asked suspiciously as Simon’s character dodged yet another attack with effortless precision.

Simon made a noncommittal noise, barely sparing him a glance. “It’s not that different from actual tactics.”

Your older brother scoffed. “Yeah, alright, Ghost. Next you’re gonna tell us you use this in real life.”

Simon’s smirk was barely visible under the edge of his mask. “Not exactly. But I know how to predict an enemy’s next move.”

Before either of them could respond, Simon’s character executed a flawless combo, wiping out both of them in a matter of seconds.

Silence.

Then—

“Oh, *come on!*”

Your younger brother threw his hands up while your older brother groaned, running a hand down his face.

You couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing.

Simon just set the controller down, stretching slightly, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Nice try, lads.”

Your younger brother pointed at him accusingly. “You *lied!* You’ve totally played this before.”

“Not this game,” Simon said easily, leaning back. “But a fight’s a fight.”

Your older brother let out a dramatic sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, guess we know who’d be the last man standing in a zombie apocalypse.”

You smiled, reaching over to squeeze Simon’s arm. “I could’ve told you that.”

Simon hummed, glancing at you, eyes dark with something unreadable. His gloved fingers brushed over your knee, a barely-there touch, but one that sent warmth curling in your stomach.

Your younger brother, oblivious, grabbed another drink and flopped back into his seat. “Alright, so maybe you’re decent.”

Simon raised a brow. “Decent?”

Your older brother chuckled, clearly warming up to him now. “He means you’re good, but we can’t let you get a big head.”

Simon smirked. “Bit late for that, mate.”

You laughed again, watching as they settled into an easier rhythm.

It wasn’t long before the conversation started flowing more naturally. Your brothers started asking Simon about his job—not the classified details, of course, but the things he could share. He answered in his usual clipped manner, but you could tell he didn’t mind. And, surprisingly, he even asked them about their own lives, listening with genuine interest.

By the time the clock hit 2 a.m., the room had shifted from initial tension to something more comfortable. Your younger brother yawned, stretching. “Alright, I’m calling it. I’m beat.”

Your older brother nodded, standing and stretching as well. He shot Simon a look, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “You’re alright, man.”

Simon tipped his chin in acknowledgment. “Likewise.”

Your youngest brother wasn’t as subtle—he gave you a look before jerking his thumb toward Simon. “I still don’t get what you see in him, but if he makes you happy, I guess I won’t fight him.”

You rolled your eyes, shoving him playfully. “Like you could even if you tried.”

Simon chuckled lowly. “Smart lad.”

Your brothers gathered their things, giving you quick hugs before heading out, leaving you alone with Simon.

The moment the door shut, you let out a breath, turning to him with a raised brow. “Well? What do you think?”

Simon exhaled, his hands finding your waist, tugging you close. “They’re protective.”

You grinned. “That’s an understatement.”

“They care about you,” he murmured, voice softer now.

Your heart warmed. “Yeah. They do.” You tilted your head up at him. “And?”

He smirked, fingers trailing up your spine. “And I like ‘em.”

You smiled, leaning into him. “They like you too, you know.”

Simon hummed, running a gloved thumb along your jaw. “Good. ‘Cause I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

Your breath caught as he leaned down, lips ghosting over yours in a slow, teasing kiss. You melted into him, fingers gripping his shirt, the warmth of his body chasing away the late-night chill.

Yeah. Simon fit here. Maybe in his own rough, unpolished way—but he fit.

And that was all that mattered.

[ahqkas]

♯ARTSY HANDS AND MINDS ( how would the batboys react to you making your own merch of their alter ego ! )

— gn!reader, bruce & dick & jason — separated, fluff, established relationship, not edited, cursing, bases on this req.

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

. . . BRUCE WAYNE !

WHEN BRUCE UNLOCKED AND PUSHED the front door of your apartment open, the familiar scent of one of your candles immediately greeted him with warmth and the familiarity of home. he was finally home, with you. it had been a long night, after all, a long night of patrols and late emergency meetings at wayne enterprises. all he wanted was a quiet evening with you, a thing that finally came to him.

the sound of soft humming came from somewhere in the apartment, probably from your living room, much to bruce’s detective skills. he couldn’t help but let a gentle smile grace his face upon the sound as he hung his coat. you always seemed to brighten even the darkest of his days.

but as he rounded the corner to the living space, his smile froze.

there you were, the love of his life, sitting cross-legged on the old, beaten couch ( which bruce insisted on replacing but you didn’t let that happen, something about an emotional bond ) with a black hoodie spread across your lap. a large symbol graced its chest area. the bat-symbol, he realized. smalls jars of fabric paint surrounded your sitting form, and you were holding a delicate brush, adding details to your own craftwork.

bruce was caught of guard.

“bruce!” you gasped his name out when he came into the clear sight, startled. you even nearly dipped the brush in the wrong direction which would mess up with the project you were currently working on. a flush of warmth creeped up your neck. “you’re home early. i thought you’d be at the office for a while.” not that you minded.

“i finished up early,” he hummed and gestured towards the hoodie in your lap. the sight of the symbol, his symbol, stirred something deep within him. “what’s that?”

“oh, this?” your hands awkwardly hovered over the clothing. “it’s nothing, really. just a little project i’m working on.”

your man raised one eyebrow at your dismissal. “that’s quite detailed for ‘nothing’, sweetheart.”

you gave in after a second of thinking, saying to yourself it definitely wasn’t for the petname or the gentle command in his tone. “fine. you caught me. i’m making my own batman hoodie. but before you say anything, let me explain.”

“i’m listening.”

“well, i’ve been a fan of batman for a while now,” you began, eyes watching his face for every kind of a reaction. “not like one of those die-hard fans who camp outside at night trying to take pics of him or anything. just . . . i admire what he does for gotham. he’s a symbol of hope, you know. it’s nice to have someone who actually fights for the city.”

bruce felt a lump form in the back of his throat. you admired both bruce wayne, the gotham’s billionaire darling, and batman, a side of him that came out when the sun went down.

“and,” you continued, “i wanted a hoodie with the bat-symbol because it looks cool, but the official ones are ugly. they’re all this stiff fabric that itches with weirdly placed logos. i wanted something more casual. so, i thought, why not just make one myself?”

his heart skipped a beat once you finished your mini rant, the muscle tightening against the bones of his ribs. you had no idea you were speaking to batman himself, yet your admiration was pure and genuine. it reminded him why he wore the cowl in the first place — to protect people like you, who believed in a better gotham.

“well,” he said after a moment of just looking at you with that special look in the depths of his gaze. “if batman knew how much effort you put into this, he’d flattered.”

“you think so?”

“i know so.”

. . . DICK GRAYSON !

THE LINGERING ACHE IN HIS MUSCLES FROM THE ROOFTOP CHASE he had barely managed to win stained his sore body as he returned from a long night of patrol back home to you. his footsteps were silent, practiced from the countless times he’s done this, when he unlocked the front door to the apartment he shared with you. the lights were still on, spilling the warm light from the living room into the hall.

dick smiled to himself. you always waited up for him, no matter how late he came home from “work”, and it never failed to warm his heart.

to find someone who would do such thing as cut their sleep schedule for him was basically rare, but he managed to.

you were sitting cross-legged on the beloved couch dick himself chose, completely absorbed in your task. the couch has lived its fair share already, but it was well loved and had so many good memories, so you kept it. your boyfriend watched from the doorway as your brows created that adorable little v between them, furrowing in concentration. meanwhile, your hands worked carefully with blue and black yarn. your fingers clutched the unmistakable nightwing plush; complete with the signature blue symbol across its little chest.

you don’t actually know about nightwing. well, you know about his existence, about how the vigilante keeps blüdhaven’s streets safe from criminal activities, and you knew about the package beneath the tight spandex of his suit. what you didn’t know was nightwing’s true identity. you didn’t know how he always made sure to come back home to you, and you totally didn’t know that ass belonged to you.

“uhh . . .” he was caught of guard for a second here. “what are you doing?”

jumping slightly at the sound of his voice, you clutched the half-finished plush close to your chest as if protecting it from his praying eyes. “dick!” your face flushed with embarrassment. “you’re home early.”

he arched an eyebrow at your behavior, his gaze averting towards the digital clock of the tv before it shifted back to you. “it’s almost two in the morning. sooo . . . are you going to explain why you’re making a mini nightwing doll this late at night?”

“first of all, it’s not a doll. it’s a plushie.”

“of course, my bad. plushie.”

“and second,” you started to defend your actions more confidently when you noticed the slightest of smirk gracing his face. he looked tired, the strands of his bangs slightly damp with sweat and his eyes nearly dropping down with how the exhaustion pressed on him. yet he still managed to be all cheeky. “it’s not like i’m obsessed or something. i just — the fan-made ones were too expensive, and honestly none of them were cute enough, so i decided to make my own.”

dick stepped closer to your sitting form, fidgeting with his hands to hide his racing heart. “you’re a nightwing fan?”

you shrugged and started picking at a stray thread on the plushie. “i mean, yeah. who isn’t? he’s cool, and he’s probably the least terrifying out of all the vigilantes in both gotham and blüdhaven. plus,” you paused in the little rant he’d coaxed out of you. “i think he’s kinda hot.”

a loud cough interrupted you the moment those last words slipped past your lips. dick’s ears took on a pink hint, along with a more pronounced smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. the tired look in his eyes was suddenly long gone, too. “you’re a think he’s hot, baby?”

“yeah. it’s not like he’ll know i said that, though.”

oh, you had no idea.

“it’s not perfect,” you shaked the plush in your hands to make a point, “but i wanted it to look right. and i know it’s probably silly, but it makes me feel safe, in a weird way. like, if i ever needed help, he’d show up, you know?”

dick wanted to tell you the truth then and there — that nightwing would show up for you, every single time, because you were his main priority. nothing else mattered but your safety. but he couldn’t. not yet.

his fingers brushed yours instead, tracing the fabric of the yarn with a gentle touch. “i think it’s perfect. and if nightwing ever saw it, i’m sure he would be flattered.”

“yeah, right,” you laughed, actually laughed, and rolled your eyes in that way he adored. “like he’d care about some random plushie.”

he didn’t argue, though a part of him was already planning on leaving a little thank you! note the next time he patrolled near your apartment. for now, he could settle for leaning against your side and pressing a chaste kiss to your temple.

. . . JASON TODD !

JASON HAD BEEN IN A RUSH TO GET HOME. the heels of his boots crunched on the gravel beneath him before he shrugged his leather jacket and unlocked the front door to your apartment. tonight’s patrol had been rough — more bullets than he’d planned for and a few bruises he would have to hide later. all he wanted now was to crash on the couch with you, maybe with a shitty movie and some pizza if you hadn’t eaten yet.

he took a step inside, already feeling the tension and ache erasing from his muscles as the familiar warmth of the living space wrapped around him like a blanket. he was finally home.

but when he crossed the threshold into the living room, jason froze right on the spot.

there you were, curled up on the couch, wearing a black hoodie that looked far too big on your frame with a hand-painted crimson symbol on the chest. not just any symbol though — it was his symbol. the red hood insignia stood out vividly against the dark fabric of the hoodie. he couldn’t miss it even if he was blind.

and that wasn’t all. on the coffee table in front of you was a small knitted plushie. its tiny body was simple, but the details were on spot: a small red helmet and a matching chest symbol that mirrored the one on your own chest.

you weren’t supposed to know about red hood. to certain amount of course. jason couldn’t shield you from the outside no matter how much he would like to, but he could shield you from one of his many personalities — the red hood. you weren’t supposed to know about him being red hood. so, he hoped it was still the truth.

“hey, you’re home!” you must’ve heard him come in because you looked up at him with that sheepish smile he grew to cherish, all while holding up the plush up for inspection.

“yeah . . .” he trained off, scratching the nape of his neck. jason didn’t like lying to you any more than he had to, so making up some shitty excuse about where he was and what was he doing was pretty much pointless. instead, he turned the attention to the creations of your work. the hoodie and plushie. “what’s–uh–what’s this?”

you glanced down at yourself like you’d forgotten what you were wearing. “oh, it’s a red hood merch. well, kind of,” brushing a stray hair off the hoodie, you smiled up at him more confidently. “i made these.”

jason’s brows shot up. “you made them?”

“yeah! the official looked ugly—like who designed that stuff? and the fan-made ones were either way too expensive or just not what i was looking for. so, i figured, why not do it myself? and he’s kind of my favorite vigilante.”

he felt his heart skip a beat. your favorite?

what the fuck. “red hood is your favorite.”

it definitely didn’t sound like a question, it was spoken in way it sounded like a statement, but you answered him with a reason anyway. “mhm. he’s a badass. a little scary, sure, but in a good way. like, you know he’s got a soft spot somewhere under all the armor. i caught him feeding the stray cat on our fire escape the other day. it was cute.”

well, he wasn’t exactly careful with the cat, but he didn’t expect the meowing and hissing would catch your attention. stubborn stray.

jason blinked, more caught of guard than feeling the edge of panic. he should panic, you were practically close to discovering your careless boyfriend was red hood. he was at a loss of words. “cute” wasn’t exactly how he’d describe himself — or his alter ego — but he wasn’t about to argue with you. instead, his fingers moved to trace the oversized sleeves of your hoodie, calloused fingertips brushing under the fabric to intertwine your fingers in one.

you didn’t know the truth, and maybe you never would, but as long as you felt safe and protected in his arms, he was okay with it. you were holding a piece of him he’d never given to you, and yet you loved him the same.

[pickingupmymercedes]

White Fireproof - Lewis Hamilton (NSFW)

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: unprotected sexual activities

Wrap it before you tap it.

wordcount: +2k

a/n: White fireproof tribute (the 2019 one, the one that actually had aura)

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

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT

______________________________________________________________

I’m not one to get distracted easily.

Really, I’m not.

But there’s something about the way Lewis moves when he’s in his element that just…scrambles my brain.

And right then, standing in front of me, adjusting the collar of this brand-new, snow-white fireproofs like he’s trying on his newest Dior collection instead of his race driver uniform.

“Do you think this watch pops enough against the white?” he asks, flicking his wrist in my direction.

I hum in response, my eyes glued to the line of his shoulders, the fit of the material across his chest, and the way it clings to his hips like it’s got a personal vendetta against me.

I mean I’ve seen him in fireproofs a hundred times, but this shade of white? This specific white? Sinful.

Lewis keeps talking, oblivious to my descent into thirsty nostalgia. “I think it’ll works for the shots. Clean, sleek. What do you think, babe?”

“Mmhm,” I mutter, my mind decidedly not in the present.

Here’s the thing: Lewis like this, all crisp and sharp, unlocked a memory I had neatly tucked away.

Abu Dhabi, 2019. Last race of the season.

Last time he wore a fireproof this white at a race. And the first of many times we did something reckless—but oh-so worth it.

Lewis, bless his heart, keeps chatting. Rambling on about how the watch’s black dial contrasts with the white fabric, and I’m sitting here pretending to listen while my brain serves up a reel of that night.

“And then they said we might try another angle where the light hits the watch just right—”

Oh, I’ll tell you about angles, sir.

Like the one I had to work at to get around the time frame on that fireproof while making good on a promise that was half a joke, half a long-standing fantasy.

He finally looks at me, his brows pulling together slightly. “You good? You’re quiet.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I wave a hand, crossing my legs to try and focus. “Just thinking about…stuff.”

Smooth, Y/n. Really smooth.

I didn’t think I’d actually do it.

A tipsy promise made over tequila shots months ago doesn’t usually hold much weight. But then again, I’m not dating just anyone.

I’m dating Lewis Hamilton, one of the most competitive guys I’ve met, fresh off winning the last race of the season and securing a Grand Chelem after achieving his 6th championship two races back.

And who am I to back out now, when he’s standing in front of me, soaked in champagne, grinning like he’s on top of the world?

He barely gets two steps into the driver’s room before I’m on him. I press him against the door, his laugh vibrating against my lips as I kiss him like we’ve got all the time in the world, even though we don’t.

“Someone’s happy” he teases between kisses, his hands settling on my hips.

“You’ve got no idea,” I murmur, nipping at his bottom lip before pulling back slightly. His gaze, dark and shining, flicking between my eyes and my lips.

I let my fingers toy with the zipper of his race suit, tugging it down just enough to reveal the long sleeve underneath. “Remember the bet?” I ask, my voice low, playful.

He blinks, clearly taking a second to process, and then his brows shoot up. “You’re serious?”

“Very serious.” I grin, dragging the zipper down the rest of the way. “We got fifteen minutes, champ.”

He swallows hard, the heat in his eyes unmistakable now. “Yes ma’am” he mutters, no resisting as I guide him toward the small sofa tucked in the corner of the room, giving him a gentle push.

He obeys, leaning back slightly, his legs spread just enough to make my mouth water.

I settle between his knees, my hands gliding over the champagne-soaked fireproofs. The fabric clings to his skin, warm and damp beneath my fingers, exuding that sharp, fizzy scent of victory—sweet and metallic, a heady mix of adrenaline and success.

His gaze doesn’t waver, intense and unblinking, like he’s trying to commit every second of this to memory.

I can hear the quickening rhythm of his breath, and the barely-there hitch that makes me shiver. His chest rises and falls beneath my hands, steady but heavy, the pulse in his neck beating fast enough for me to notice, almost in sync with my own racing heartbeat.

“You with me?” I ask, smirking as I press a kiss to his hand that is hovering mine. His silence is answer enough.

His breath hitches audibly as my fingers hook into the waistband of his fireproofs, the sound low and raspy like it’s caught in his throat.

The soft rustle of fabric against his skin fills the air as I tug them down, revealing smooth, sweat-slicked skin that glistens faintly under the dim lights. The faintest trace of cologne—woody, clean—lingers where his body heat mingles with the champagne.

 It’s intoxicating, almost dizzying, and I can’t help but lean in, my nose brushing just above his waistband to drink it in.

The bulge in his briefs is impossible to ignore, and I let my fingers trail over it lightly, earning a soft groan from him.

“You know” I say, leaning in close, my lips brushing against the fabric “if you walk into that debrief with this situation still going on, it might be a little awkward.”

He chuckles, though it’s strained. “Help me then.”

“Maybe I should” I reply, pulling his briefs down just enough to free him.

He’s already hard, the tip glistening with precum.

I start slow, my tongue flicking out to taste him, and the salty but fruity tang spurring me. I drag my tongue along the length of him, spreading the slickness as I go.

His breath is uneven, and I can feel his restraint slipping.

When I finally take him into my mouth, I go as far as my throat allows, the coolness of my lips contrasting with his heat. I pull back with a soft pop, flicking my eyes up to meet his.

His gaze is locked on me, intense and unwavering.

I wrap both hands around his length, stroking him slowly, deliberately, while maintaining eye contact. His lips part slightly, and when I hear the first low moan escape, I can’t help but grin.

“Enjoying yourself?” I tease, my voice raspy.

His only response is a shaky exhale, and I take that as my cue to dive back in, my mouth working with my hands. His hips twitch slightly, his self-control barely there anymore.

The sounds he makes—soft groans, sharp inhales, and the occasional whispered curse—are like music.

His thighs tense under my palms, firm and unyielding, as if bracing for what’s next. I can feel the heat radiating off him, the heady mix of sweat and lingering champagne heightening every inhale I take.

His body is alive beneath me, each twitch, each gasp, syncing with my rhythm of hands and mouth.

When I glance up again, his head is tipped back, eyes closed, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He’s completely lost in the moment, lost in me.

I pull back, letting him slip from my mouth as I sit back on my heels and his eyes snap open, dark and desperate, as if I’ve just yanked him back to earth.

“Problem?” I ask innocently, tilting my head, pretending like I’m done.

His jaw clenches. “Babe” he murmurs, his voice a low growl, his eyes narrowing in that way that makes my stomach flip.

I raise a brow, waiting. He knows what I want. He exhales heavily, his hand reaching out to rest on the back of my head.

With the gentlest pressure, he guides me back down. “Don’t stop,” he says softly, his thumb brushing over my jaw.

I smirk before taking him in again, my lips wrapping around him, picking up right where I left off.

His hands stay on me, not pushing, just there, grounding himself. I can feel his thighs tense beneath my palms, his body teetering on the edge.

And then—footsteps. A knock on the door.

“Oi, hurry up, you two!” Angela’s voice cuts through from the other side. “Five minutes left”

Lewis freezes, his entire body going rigid. His eyes shoot to the door and I freeze right with him, unmoved, my tongue teasing him lightly just to test his resolve.

Angela’s steps fade down the hall, and I finally lift my head just enough to whisper, “She’s gone.”

His shoulders sag, and he lets out a breathy laugh. “You’re gonna kill me” he mutters.

“Not before I finish what I started.”

Without missing a beat, I shift my focus, letting my hand drift lower to gently cup his balls. I massage them with just enough pressure to make his breath hitch, all while my mouth works him steadily.

His hips twitch, and I know I’ve got him.

“Shit,” he breathes, his head falling back.

It doesn’t take long before his hands move again, this time pulling gently at my head, trying to stop me. “Babe,” he rasps, his voice strained. “I’m gonna—”

I hum in response, doubling down, taking him deeper. His grip tightens, his hips jerking slightly as he tries to warn me again, but I’m not stopping.

Not this time.

His body tenses, and then I feel it—hot and thick, spilling down my throat.

I swallow every drop, my eyes locked on his, watching as his features twist in pure bliss. His mouth falls open, and the quietest, most wrecked groan escapes him as he collapses back against the sofa. Spent.

I give him a few more gentle strokes, making sure I’ve got everything, before finally pulling back, letting my lips trail one last time over the sensitive tip.

His hands fall to his sides, useless, as he tries to catch his breath.

I rise slowly, crawling up his body until I’m face to face with him. His eyes are half-lidded, heavy with satisfaction, but they don’t leave mine.

I press a soft, chaste kiss to his lips, like I hadn’t just sucked him dry moments before.

“Thanks for the trophy,” I whisper against his mouth, grinning.

I’m still half-lost in my own mind when Lewis’s voice breaks through the haze. “Love, you good?”

I blink, snapping back to the present. He’s standing in front of me, white fireproofs hugging every muscle, his brow slightly raised, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter, waving a hand dismissively, even as my cheeks burn. He doesn’t need to know how far down memory lane I just went. “Just... admiring the view.”

His smirk deepens. “Uh-huh.” He steps closer, leaning in slightly. “You’ve been staring at me like that since I put this on. Something on your mind?”

Oh, you sweet, oblivious man.

I clear my throat, standing up from the couch and brushing past him to inspect his fireproofs more closely. “All I’ll say it’s,” I start, my fingers tracing the fabric near his shoulder, “It’s not as good as the 2019 one.”

He scoffs, crossing his arms. “I thought you liked the all-white look.”

“I did,” I admit, turning to face him fully, my hands on my hips. “But these little dot patterns?” I point at the subtle textured details near his ribs. “They’re throwing me off”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Of course.”

“Hey,” I retort, poking him lightly in the chest, “I’m only pointing out the obvious. The 2019 ones were iconic. These? Meh.” I scrunch my nose for dramatic effect.

“Meh?” he repeats, incredulous. “Okay, little miss fashionista”

I grin. “And yet, here you are, still putting up with me.”

He leans in closer, his voice dropping to that soft, teasing tone that always gets me. “You’ve got strong opinions for someone who couldn’t keep her hands off me in the old ones.”

Touché.

“Fair point” I concede, stepping back just enough to keep things playful. “But let’s not forget who really benefited from that moment in history.”

He laughs, shaking his head as he adjusts the sleeves of his fireproofs. “You know,” he murmurs, his eyes meeting mine, “I don’t remember much from that race. But those ten minutes? Burned into my memory forever.”

I bite my lip, warmth blooming in my chest. “Good” I reply, my voice softening. “I like knowing I leave an impression.”

He reaches for my hand, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “You always do.”

The knock on the door snaps us both out of the moment. “Lewis, waiting for you!”

Lewis sighs, giving my hand a quick squeeze before letting go. “ I’ll be right back”

As he heads for the door, I can’t resist one last parting shot. “Tell the photographers to focus on your face” I call out. “It’s the real moneymaker.”

With one final smirk, he disappears down the hallway, leaving me alone with my thoughts—and the satisfaction of knowing I’ll never look at white fireproofs the same way again.

_____________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @itsmrshamilton @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff @jpgnsf

@priopp123 @strqirlhrts @hmmmmm-01 @bisexual-babygirl-mj @bebesobrielo

@hiireadstuff @f1-football-fiend @unlikelystay

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