#why would yall bring her back

[axe-b0dy-spray]

YOU WOULDN’T LAST AN HOUR IN THE ASYLUM WHERE THEY RAISED ME

[bibleofficial]

god bless sleeping 12hrs nightly

[posalis]

"jayce has two hands!" yes and they were both holding viktor in the end <3

[gifti3]

today i think about how some men really think all (or at least most) women just dont like sex at all and it still kinda shocks me that they genuinely believe this! being in fandom spaces from a young age the type of shit ill see women saying about some fictional character or actor even has me flabbergasted at times

[its-mellohi]

.

[toji-bunny-girl]

Toji with a puppy girl👀

Nah cuz puppy!reader…x wolf!toji‼️⁉️ GOODBYE YALL🫡

Alright imagine wolf cop!Toji and puppy!reader who accidentally got caught speeding and acting all fidgety and nervous when he made her roll her window down. Wolf cop!Toji’s leaning against your car door, merely asking for your driver’s license and you’re already shaking in your seat.

The first thing you did was trying to explain why you were speeding just a little, to buy some heat suppressants and Toji could see that you weren’t lying about that. Puppy girl is all sweaty, your eyes are droopy with indecipherable lust and your aromal pheromones were begging him to breed you. He is a servant of the law, supposedly having to be professional on his job, but fuck did he want to help you with your heat.

He doesn’t know the extent of his self-control and he has no interest in testing it today—so he promptly sends puppy off with a warning, he’d better not catch you speeding again.

The next time he saw puppy was a few seasons later—when he was passing by an alley on the way home from dinner with the chief. There was a little yelp of desperation, and what seemed to be someone calling for help. He could smell the scent fraught and despair, along with a familiar whiff of feminine pheromones.

Stalking into the tenebrous alleyway, he found you cowering all scared over the corner, ears back and tail between your legs as a hooded male prowled closer to you. 

Without much thinking, Toji hauled the male away from you, smashing his frame against the wall before locking his hands behind his back. 

The man tried to fight back but it was all simply in futile. He could try all he want but Toji would still have him subjugated under his strength. Ripping the hoodie off of him, and as his features were described; it was the serial rapist around your area. 

“Oi!” he called for your attention, sobbing as you shut your thighs tight together. “Get my phone outta my pocket.”

You did as you’re told, dialling the number he chanted aloud and soon the cops were there to bring the male under custody. 

“Thank you for saving me, sir,” you spoke to the intimidatingly huge wolf. And Toji returned with a terse ‘welcome’, noting the crimson blush you wore underneath your cheeks and your strong intoxicating scent; it made his head heavy and the world seemed to whirled in his sight. 

“Yer’ alright?” his voice was comfortingly deep, the grizzly pitch scratching the nerves in your ears. You’re practically sweating, and acting like how you were the first time he saw you. “Why are you out here alone this late?”

“I was going to get some heat suppressants and my car was getting fixed. So I had to walk…” you embarrassingly cried. Fuck, he swore in his head, not again. The officers were busy with the rapist bastard and letting you continue your walk alone seemed unsafe. So, he’d better send you back as quickly as possible and get on his merry way home. 

Or so he thought. 

“Please, please, please…!” you tearily whined, rubbing yourself against his knee, nose buried deep in his neck, breathing in his manly essence. Toji was beating back a groan, your scent punching his nostrils and messing up his heartbeat. He was supposed to drive you home, and somehow you’re straddled on top of him just as he has reached your home.

“Hey—”

“It hurts s’much, sir!” you’ve balled his shirt into your fist, staring at him with those wet puppy eyes. It’s your hormones against his instincts, and he has to put himself under control no matter what. “The toys are no use, I can’t do it anymore!”

“Where’s ya suppressant?” Toji sighed as he rummaged through your bag, his thigh began to dampen and the bulge in his pants pumped against the restraints of his brief as it grew in size. You didn’t manage to buy it, did you?

“Please, save me,” your voice broke as you cried, desperation oozing out of your eyes along with your tears. He could feel your pulse through his pants and your drenched panty, and fuck were you pushing him towards the edge of his limits. “It’s just this once, please…!”

Your words were the breaking point that wrenched the very last of his self-control out of his wavering self. But rules are still rules, and he worked quickly to call his partner, instructing him to help log out of his shift system for him. You were practically all over him when the phone call ended, your little teeth nipping and licking over his saliva-coated neck.

“Bad girl,” Toji clicked his tongue, his voice was low, almost predatory with a growl. You let out a yelp when he grabbed your face, forcing your head to the side as to expose the supple skin of your neck. It wasn’t fair for you to mark him without expecting him to imprint on you. Especially when you’d let out your adorable gasps as he sunk his sharp teeth into your flesh, your skin threatening to break and blood ready to flow under the subjugation of his canines.

He would only learn more of the sound you’d make when he pressed a finger against your pulsing clit through your embarrassingly wet panty, teasing and rolling your bud until your body shook and voice begged him to touch you more.

You were all he could smell and hear, his mind and body nearly drunk off of your pheromones that bubbled into the sizzling hot air. And it took the rest of a pathetic amount of restrain left in him not to eat you whole. He would have to compromise on the honey that seemed to coat your skin, sucking and biting the sweetness off of you.

Your gasps turned to whines when he stuffed a finger into your heat, a single digit of his large enough to please your squeezing cunt. But he expected you to take more than that, stretching out your slick-dripped pussy with two of his thick fingers. Your cavern squelched as he slipped them in and out of you, your head growing heavy and your eyesight turning hazy.

“Feel so—nnh, good…!” you slurred through the pleasure that shook your nerves. Your movements did nothing but agitated the bulge in his trousers, and Toji hated being edged of all things. So he had your wrists bounded by his cuffs, your arms raised above his head and your motions then restricted to your hips as you buckled them from the tingles in your core.

Toji smirked through one of the bite he was marking on your chest when he pumped his digits in and out of your sloppy cunt faster, his thumb reaching your clit and stimulating both of them at the same time. You burst into heightened cries as you felt your orgasm coming close, your hips rolling with his thick fingers as they curled over the gummy part of your wall, your eyes rolling to the back of head as pressure started building in your core.

“Mmnh—I’m cummin’, I’m cummin’!” you repeated into a chant, your features twisting to his enjoyment as he watched you come undone from his mere fingers.

From the look of it, Toji knew you haven’t had enough. You were at the height of your heat, any coherence long melted into your innate desires to mate, for hours at least. You tried to free yourself from the cuff he’d locked you in, your eyes raking over his body down to the pumping size in his pants, a spot of pre-cum damp from your doings.

“Please, sir…” you whined through your adorable doe eyes, your craving for his cock to fill your cunt catching up to your limit. “Please fuck me.”

“That’s what I wanna hear,” Toji smirked, nipping the end of your sensitive ear, causing you to shudder from his touch. He loved the fact that he doesn’t have to ask for you to beg for him, his animalistic ego stroked by your adorable neediness.

Your eyes nearly popped out when you watched him unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants down to release his fat cock, veiny and pulsing and ready to pump you full. You were almost too eager to fit him inside of you, your hips sinking down a little too quickly. But Toji was quicker to grab you before you hurt yourself. You were already well prepared, your body releasing all the hormones necessary but still, you were built a little too small for him.

“Someone’s impatient,” Toji chuckled as you wriggled in his hold. Just as he thought, your lips paused open when he slowly sank you halfway down his length, his thick cock pushing against the wall of your tummy, a little bump from the shape of his bulging from the inside of your stomach.

The both of you swore underneath your breaths, and you threw your head back when Toji started shifting into your hips. You were so damn tight and warm and wet that his carnal need to breed hit him like a fucking truck.

His jaw clenched as he forced his whole length into your pulsing hole, your eyebrows furrowed and teeth sunk into your bottom lip from how full you felt. Your breaths left your mouth as dragged moans when Toji began to draw his hips out and into your weeping cunt, slow but deep.

His thumb drew circles upon your hardened clit once again, attempting to ease your clenching hole but it did nothing but tightened your grip around his girth. “You gotta relax, pup,” he groaned into the sultry air, and you cried as you shook your head.

“M’ can’t! Please!” you mewled, rolling your hips for the least bit of friction, itching to ease the tingle between your thighs.

“Fuck,” Toji growled as tears of frustration began forming in your eyes. You weren’t the only one starved for sex, he’s been holding on for so long just not to hurt you. But you’re an eager one, can’t even wait for his cock to start moving and you’re sniffling your tears aback. “You better not regret this,” he clicked his tongue before drawing his hips back, slamming them up into your weeping cunt.

The car shook from the force and a scream lodge itself in your throat, your pussy ached with his cock dragging against your walls, and a pulsing warmth began to swarm all over your belly. “Haah—it’s s’good!” you mumbled unsteadily, your back arching into him and eyes turning crossed.

“I need you to be, shit—clearer, sweet.”

“Your cock f-feel s’good, sir!” you could feel the way Toji twitched inside of you, his pace relentless and rough. It doesn’t take long for you to feel the crack of the pressure in your core, and your released gushed all over his lap and car seat, the scent of your essence making his head heavy.

He doesn’t stop even when your lips spewed nothing but rambles, your drool slipping down your chin and onto your marked chest. Instead, he began to fuck himself into you, harder and faster. Your thighs shook for the way his cock spurred up your insides, it was as if he was trying to bring you apart then and there.

Toji bellowed out a low growl as his nails sank into the flesh on your hips, using your body like a fleshlight and messing up your sore cunt. Your slick cavern hugged his cock tight as he twitched, the nerves on his tip dancing upon the fire of pleasure before you feel a rope of his velvety semen paint your insides white, a wave of orgasm crushing down over you soon after.

You’re too drunk and dumb off his cock to stop him, your eyes rolled to the back of your head and tongue idly lolling out. Toji had spent too much of his time enveloped in your mating pheromones, his hormones raging all over his body, twisting the levels until he was down to nothing but a hulking body of a male intending to impregnate.

Unbeknownst to you, it would take days for a wolf’s rut to wear off.

[astonmartinii]

day two: i saw mommy kissing santa claus | fernando alonso social media au

pairing: fernando alonso x fem lawson reader (liam's mom)

first he tries to take him out on track and now he takes his MOM?

christmas song: i saw mommy kissing santa claus - jackson 5

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

liamlawson30

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, yukitsunoda0511 and 104,505 others

tagged: yourusername

liamlawson30: a full time f1 driver and i still can't escape the christmas duties

view all comments

user1: momma lawson is such a jumpscare every time

user1: a jumpscare in my PANTS

user1: woah why am i blocked by fernando alonso ???

yukitsunoda0511: you're so ungrateful i would decorate anything for momma lawson

yourusername: have i ever told you you're my favourite yuki ?

yukitsunoda0511: hehehehehehe

liamlawson30: huh ???

maxverstappen1: i hate to burst your bubble chicos but momma lawson told me in brazil that I'M her favourite sooooooo

liamlawson: MUM?

yourusername: i can't help my maternal urges i had to tell him i was proud of him !!!

estebanocon: she also told me she's proud of me

pierregasly: and me!

yukitsunoda0511: SHE'S OUR MUM NOW LIAM

liamlawson30: WHAT IS HAPPENING ??????

user2: the f1 grid is so weak sauce - you saw momma lawson and thought maternal figure first and not MILF

liamlawson30: can yall shut the fuck up there's too many of you to block at once

user3: don't have such a hot mum then ???

liamlawson30: HOW IS THAT MY FAULT?

user4: i'd actually be more annoyed if i were you liam because you clearly did NOT get her genes

liamlawson30: mum they're calling me ugly :(

yourusername: you're the prettiest angel in the paddock to me bub

alexalbon: i assume my invite to the lawson christmas festivities is still valid

liamlawson30: obvs and you have to bring lily, mum's rules

alexalbon: we'll bring the sangria @yourusername

yourusername: u guys are stars !!!

liamlawson30: why would we need sangria? that's not very christmassy ?

alexalbon: oh my sweet summer child

user5: what do they know 🤨

yourusername

liked by liamlawson30, fernandoalo_oficial and 82,091 others

yourusername: christmas is serious business in this house

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user6: A MAN???

user7: first of all that could just be liam

yukitsunoda0511: he's no where near that tall

user8: also y/n is a boy mom but not THAT kind of boy mom

liamlawson30: okay 1. the house looks great i can't wait for the christmas break 2. WHO THE FUCK IS THAT ?

yourusername: ummmm language?

liamlawson30: oh i am sorry - whomst is that GROSS ASS MAN WHO HAS HIS GROSS ASS PAWS ON YOU

yourusername: liam, let's not be rude online he's probably reading this

yourusername: let's make a good impression!

liamlawson30: how about we give NO IMPRESSION EVER

user9: oh liam is going through it

maxverstappen1: i for one am excited to meet our new dad

liamlawson30: BACK OFF DUTCHIE

maxverstappen1: that's not very nice liam, i'm telling dad

liamlawson30: you know what i don't want that red bull seat anymore

fernandoalo_oficial: those decorations are definietly fitting for a woman like yourself

yourusername: why thank you nando

liamlawson30: what are you doing here?

liamlawson30: is bothering me on track not enough?

fernandoalo_oficial: you have no idea

liamlawson30: huh ???

user10: my spider senses are tingling

user11: so we all know who the man is right?

liamlawson30: so tell me???

user12: bro is afraid of context cues

alexalbon: leave him it's funnier to watch him try and work it out

liamlawson30: ALEX?

fernandoalo_oficial

liked by carlossainz55, oscarpiastri and 562,095 others

tagged: yourusername

fernandoalo_oficial: call me santa because i found my mrs claus

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user15: i just fell to my knees in a walmart

user16: i don't know which one i'm more heartbroken about losing

user17: don't be dumb it's obvs momma lawson

liamlawson30: EH????

liamlawson30: FERNANDO ALONSO?

liamlawson30: @yourusername YOU'RE DATING FERNANDO ALONSO?

yourusername: yes! are you not happy? i thought you loved fernando?

liamlawson30: I DID?

liamlawson30: like i liked him as a driver? i thought it was cool that he's a world champion? NOT DATING MY MUM

yourusername: well i wasn't going to stay single forever bub

liamlawson30: BUT WHY HIM? EVERYONE CALLS YOU A MILF YOU COULD GET ANYONE

fernandoalo_oficial: liam i think you'll find i am a CATCH

liamlawson30: well i'm not calling him dad

fernandoalo_oficial: for now you can call me santa ;)

liamlawson30: PLEASE FUCK OFF

fernandoalo_oficial: well for that you're on the naughty list

liamlawson30: what are you gonna take me out on track again???

fernandoalo_oficial: i wasn't... but now you mention it

liamlawson30: MUM MAKE HIM STOP :(

yourusername: well that went great!

user18: let me grab my popcorn real quick

user19: this is so messy ... i love it!

user20: poor liam got a full time seat, immediately got on fernando's shit list and now has him a step dad ???

liamlawson30: idk which cosmic entity i pissed off but can they PLEASE STOP

user21: real question is what garage is y/n going to be in for the next race...

user22: oh god...

maxverstappen1: personally i think she'll be in her favourite driver's garage but that's just me...

yukitsunoda0511: both of her sons are in the RB garage?

fernandoalo_oficial: have you ever considered i am sexier than all of you

yourusername: considering they're my KIDS that's probably a good thing ???

visacashapprb

liked by maxverstappen1, yukitsunoda0511 and 329,055 others

tagged: liamlawson30, yourusername & yukitsunoda0511

visacashapprb: we won the momma lawson custody battle

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user23: the way she was never not gonna be in her SONS garage but this is cute tho!

user24: idk but sky constantly cutting to fernando standing outside of the garage blowing her kisses has cracked me up

user25: he's so down bad... ur 42 STAND UP

fernandoalo_oficial: i didn't know there was an age limit on love ???

liamlawson30: LOVE?

yourusername: obviously i would be in my baby's garage :(

visacashapprb: we didn't doubt you momma lawson but we did see you sneaking over to ... them

liamlawson30: mUM?

yourusername: you were in debrief? and the coffee at rb sucks :(

visacashapprb: but we have complementary red bull!

yourusername: do i look like i'm at the age that i can be drinking red bull all the time?

visacashapprb: yes!

fernandoalo_oficial: are you flirting with my girlfriend?

visacashapprb: NO!

yourusername: so you don't think i'm pretty?

visacashapprb: admin is going to have a breakdown i'm logging OFF

user26: even the social media admins have a crush on momma lawson?

redbullracing: well of course

scuderiaferrari: we're not blind?

mercedesamgf1: we're only human <3

fernandoalo_oficial: just how many of you do i have to fight?

astonmartinf1: you may have won the battle but you have NOT won the war

visacashapprb: it's ON

user27: they're on here fighting but do they know that both y/n and fernando are currently live on sky sports with jenson ...

visacashapprb: HUH?

user28: the way jenson roped liam in as well and brother does NOT want to be there

user29: the way fernando had his arm around y/n and liam literally pushed through it to stand between them

user30: this whole lil family are quickly become my faves

liamlawson30

liked by yukitsunoda0511, maxverstappen1 and 204,506 others

tagged: yourusername & fernandoalo_oficial

liamlawson30: her siri play i saw mommy kissing santa claus and then schedule my SUICIDE

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user32: glad to see we're keeping very cool, calm and collected

user33: liam really is the irritable queen representation on the grid

user34: i mean after the last few races if i saw fernando at the bottom of my stairs dressed as SANTA i would also be bamboozled

yourusername: my two favourite boys home for christmas, it really is the most wonderful time of the year <3

liamlawson30: i literally said i want to kill myself in the caption?

yourusername: i'm ignoring that

liamlawson30: well what you can't ignore is the fact i can see fernando putting all of MY CHRISTMAS CHEESECAKES IN HIS CAR?

fernandoalo_oficial: THERE IS NO THREATENING SUCIDE IN THIS HOUSE OVER CHRISTMAS

fernandoalo_oficial: save that for when it matters - holding it over your team!

liamlawson30: okay?

yourusername: see liam - endless advice :)

user35: this endless advice being to threaten to kill yourself anytime your team wrongs you ???

user36: @charles_leclerc please take notes

maxverstappen1: for my own peace of mind i'm going to ignore this also

liamlawson30: i'm not going to kill myself max ?

liamlawson30: i won't give fernando the satisfaction

maxverstappen1: oh i don't give a fuck about that

maxverstappen1: i was talking about momma lawson saying YOU are her favourite

liamlawson30: of course i am - it's FERNANDO WHO SHOULDN'T BE

maxverstappen1: why wouldn't fernando be a favourite, he's my favourite old guy as well

fernandoalo_oficial: why thank you max - you're invited to christmas!

liamlawson30: you can't just invite people to christmas at my house

fernandoalo_oficial: i think you'll find it's my house now

liamlawson30: i'd slash your tires but i actually do want you to leave!

user37: i love how momma lawson just lets them scrap it out in the comments

yourusername: gotta let them get it out over the internet so they're normal in person, like a dog getting their zoomies out

user38: i fear you have the patience of a saint

yourusername: i love them both so much i just got let them get through this phase

user39: how long until you actually get annoyed

yourusername: if they argue through another episode of real housewives of beverely hills the get along t-shirt is coming out

yukitsunoda0511

liked by pierregasly, alexalbon and 304,509 others

tagged: liamlawson, yourusername & fernandoalo_oficial

yukitsuonoda0511: liam may complain but i would NEVER miss a christmas with momma lawson

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user40: oh to be making gingerbread men with momma lawson

yukitsunoda0511: we made the whole grid :)

user41: wait that's so cute

yukitsunoda0511: and we recreated all the crashes this season hehehehe

user42: see this is why i wasn't shocked about her being with fernando - they're clearly just as chaoatic as each other

liamlawson30: it's not cute, she made their gingerbreadselves kiss :|

fernandoalo_oficial: why when she could have the real thing?

yourusername: hehehehehe

liamlawson30: LEAVE ME ALONE

user43: i kinda hope liam never gets over this

user44: well the way that twitter got hopeful after they were talking during the drivers parade but then liam was out there during the race blaming fernando for things lance was doing LOL

user45: convinced he could see a bright ass ferrari and still be like 'fernando is out to kill me'

yourusername: we love having you yuki <333

yukitsunoda0511: you think i'd miss your festive sushi night? over my dead body

yourusername: it's a tradition now :3

user46: she really has been momma bear for so many of the younger drivers i'm so excited to see how many she can pick up now liam has a full time drive

fernandoalo_oficial: do NOT GIVE HER IDEAS

yourusername: but nando they're all so cute

fernandoalo_oficial: i only just got you i don't want to have to share already :(

yourusername: i'm all yours baby don't worry

fernandoalo_oficial: i'm yours forever x

fernandoalo_oficial: also no adopting franco he 100% has a crush on you

francocolapinto: SORRY NOT SORRY XXX

user47: no kick off from liam after those cute comments? progress?

user48: maybe he's finally been defeated by them lol

liamlawson30: i'm tired

liamlawson30: and they don't even listen to me

fernandoalo_oficial: you're 22 years old liam i'm not gonna listen to you when you're stomping your feat in lightning mcqueen slippers

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 124,056 others

tagged: liamlawson30 & fernandoalo_oficial

yourusername: my santa baby remembered i wanted a ring

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user49: holy mother that is a ROCK

user50: fernando said i'm gonna make you mine and i'm gonna make sure people KNOW and are jealous

user51: i always forget he's been an f1 driver since before liam was born and is rich AS FUCK

liamlawson30: okay i'll accept fernando now i guess

fernandoalo_oficial: finally !!! i knew you loved me really liam

liamlawson30: it's mainly because you bought me a car for christmas

fernandoalo_oficial: well i thought it was a nice gift but now i just feel like a weird sugar daddy

liamlawson30: but i guess i also like that you make my mum super happy

fernandoalo_oficial: well i love her so i'd hope so

liamlawson30: i'll still never call you dad even if you're married

fernandoalo_oficial: normal service resumed i see

user52: you know what? i'll call that progress!

yourusername: liam won't tell you guys but he did cry just as much as me

liamlawson30: i'm a tough guy !!!!!

liamlawson30: and also SORRY i am happy for you :(

yourusername: you were just going through your teenage rebellion phase in your 20s were you?

liamlawson30: yes!

fernandoalo_oficial: i have never felt love like this and can't wait to spend forever with you

yourusername: you made me the happiest girl in the world at the happiest time of the year

fernandoalo_oficial: you saying yes is the best christmas gift i could ever ask for

yourusername: there's no way i could ever say no to you

liamlawson30: i can tell - why did you get him a cat for christmas? we're a dog family :/

yourusername: LIAM???

liamlawson30: whoops! 😬 spoiler alert

fernandoalo_oficial: you got me a cat !!!! amor !!!!!

yourusername: well a proposal put my suprise of bruno to shame :( (we're going to pick him up tomorrow)

fernandoalo_oficial: don't talk about my favourite son like that - i love cats and i love you <333

liamlawson30: i was just being nice to you and now i relegated to below a CAT?

yourusername: that's bruno to you sir

liamlawson30: i actually can't win

fernandoalo_oficial: ANYWAY i love you y/n thanks for giving me a furry son and for being with me forever xxx

yourusername: i love you more xxx

user53: is it ever not a rollercoaster in this house

user54: i don't give a fuck this christmas gave us the return of cat dad fernando and y/n lawson-alonso ???

fin.

note: day twoooooooooooo enjoy for the first of december! i had a great day because chelsea won and i got my DREAM f1 podium for qatar xxxx

[piastappies]

would you maybe write an smau (oscar x norris or leclerc!reader) where the reader is just super clumsy and everyone makes fun of that?

ᯓᡣ𐭩 SUCH A KLUTZ ! ᡣ𐭩ᯓ

pairing. oscar piastri x leclerc!reader

summary. in which reader can’t walk straight to save her life and formula fans (as well as some of the drivers) find it extremely amusing, while her boyfriend is the greenest flag of all time.

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, francisca.cgomes, charles_leclerc and 89 623 others.

yourusername rumour has it that the best couple on grid is enjoying the summer break and the rumors are TRUE! though it is also said that the girl in third slide fell off the scooter and got a concussion so her boyfriend took her phone away for three days — this may or may not be true!

view all comments!

user1 oscar is so whipped the guy is the first like whenever she posts something 😭😭

user2 i know ehic isnt a thing in monaco unfortunately but my other european girlies please remember to get yourself an ehic card if you travel across europe it can save you a lot of nerves if you injury yourself on vacay 😭😭😭

priniya european girlies always remember to have a valid european health insurance card! <3

oscarpiastri she might say its not true but it is 👎👎 the girl almost gave me a heart attack

landonorris yourusername someone should lock you up because at this rate youre gonna hurt yourself by breathing

yourusername im having a brat summer ☹️

arthur_leclerc dont think its how it works lutin

francisca.cgomes rumour has it that she didn’t take her girlfriend with her to her trip

lilymhe rumour has it that she broke her other girlfriend’s heart

yourusername NOOOO IM SORRY 😭😭😭 LET ME MAKE IT UP WHEN THE BREAK ENDS

marverstappen1 girl how do you even function with that clumsy brain of yours?

yourusername kellypiquet please tell p that max is making fun of me because i got hurt

kellypiquet she’s making you a card rn

maxverstappen1 our house turned into a glitterlandia because of that card

yourusername I LOVE HER SO MUCH

user3 i honestly cant wait for the pyn reunion in zandvoort 🥹🥹🥹

yourusername same shes my true one 👊👊

charles_leclerc oscarpiastri take your aussie hands off my baby sister or ill crash into you in zandvoort 😁

charles_leclerc for legal purpose this may or may not be a joke

yourusername crash into him and i’ll do something worse than have his hands on me and make you watch

francisca.cgomes

liked by pierregasly, alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc and 432 621 others.

francisca.cgomes a girls night gone wrong…

— tagged alexandrasaintmleux, yourusername

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user4 i bet my LIFE that yn had to go to the er 😭😭😭

pierregasly THIS is what you meant by a surprise??????

francisca.cgomes surprise . . . 😦

alexandrasaintmleux it was fun while it lasted . . .

user5 WHY DOES THE COMMENTS SEEM LIKE YN DIED WHERE IS HER COMMENT

user6 yn rn 💀🪦🪦

user7 you are not funny! hope that helps ❤️

charles_leclerc girl where is my sister 😭😭😭😭

yourusername WHY ARE YALL ACTING LIKE I DIED?????

user8 SHES ALIVE YOU GUYS

oscarpiastri kika you were supposed to bring her back in one piece?

francisca.cgomes sorry it was not my fault

francisca.cgomes literally not my fault this time a guy bumped into her shoulder and she fell 😭😭😭

yourusername i sprained my ankle :(

alexandrasaintmleux we still love you 🫶

user9 ngl i would give my leg to be a part of this friendship

user10 same

landonorris petition to keep yourusername locked in a cage

user11 😧😧😧

yourusername you gotta catch me first 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

pierregasly i second this

lilymhe i third

alexandrasaintmleux ily yn but i fourth ☹️

twitter !

user13 WHEN ITS GONNA BE MY TURN???

user14 i need an oscar in my life but idk if i wanna be yn 😭

user15 you r so real for that oomf

user16 ngl i wish i could be oscar to be with yn

user17 god just knew that if she made yn flawless she would be too much for mortals

user18 she ?

user17 god is a woman and her name is pascale leclerc 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

user19 LMAO

lando.jpg

liked by alex_albon, yourusername, logansargeant and 772 812 others.

lando.jpg never accept an invitation from yourusername for a dinner at her house because there’s a 100% chance she’s gonna burn herself while making you food

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oscarpiastri shouldnt have invited YOU

lando.jpg ??? MEAN ???

oscarpiastri dont make fun of my clumsy girlfriend

yourusername when he’s protective ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

yourusername i burnt myself while YOU ALL WERE LAUGHING

user20 oscar was laughing too?😭

arthur_leclerc he was glaring at everyone laughing while looking after yn

user21 oscar is the bestest boyfriend possible i need an oscar in my life

user22 yourusername can you fight?

yourusername i have three older brothers, go figure it out

user22 (｡•́︿•̀｡)

charles_leclerc cant believe they didn’t invite ME and they invited YOU

arthur_leclerc she invited me and enzo LOL

user23 lando.jpg comeback to make fun of oscars gf 😭😭😭

charles_leclerc SHE WAS MY SISTER FIRST

user24 yn is a klutz first human second

oscarpiastri

liked by pascale_leclerc, nicolepiastri, yourusername and 921 728 others.

oscarpiasti a few things that summer break gave me: a dog (yes, i’m officially a dog dad), relaxing time with my friends n family, a fiancée and lots of headaches due to the clumsiness of my gorgeous fiancée.

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yourusername i love youuuuuu

hattiepiastri THIS IS HOW I FIND OUT???

hattiepiastri yourusername YOURE MARRYING MY BROTHER????

hattiepiastri HOW DID THAT HAPPEN??

yourusername i flipped a coin

georgerussell63 it probably hit you in the face too, no?

user25 IMAGINE THE FAMILY GATHERINGS???

user26 hold on is oscar gonna go there as charles’ son or yn’s throphy husband??

user27 the family dynamics must be crazy??? because wdym his girlfriend’s brother ADOPTED him??

oscarpiasti fiancee’s*

user27 oh hes not playing

user28 this gon be soooo awkward at the family dinner

yourusername BURN THE PAPERS charles_leclerc HES MINE NOW

charles_leclerc HE WAS MINE FIRST

nicolepiastri i’m pretty sure he was mine first 🥰

pascale_leclerc now we have to share children nicolepiastri

landonorris love you guys but you shouldn’t have a wedding because with yns abilities she might turn the party into a funeral

mclaren so glad to have yn in the mclaren family! 🧡

user29 engagement this engagement that we KNEW you would tie the knot sooner or later WHAT IS THE DOGS NAME 🗣️🗣️🗣️

oscarpiastri pepper :)

user30 yn and lorenzo both engaged in 2024?? leclerc siblings are going STRONG

lewishamilton congratulations to you guys 💚💚

sebastianvettel lots of love and patience with that one, oscar :)

user31 not the girls not congratulating oscyn… fake friends?

user32 gtfo they prob knew abt it already and congratulated them IN PERSON and not in instagram photo comments

francocolapinto lost my chance 😞😔😭😭😢

user33 LMAOOO??? bro saw her at ONE (1) race and fell in love

user34 honestly cant blame him

user35 pls never media train him

yourusername pls franco never change 🫶

pierregasly pls dont elope i need that free food

yukitsunoda0511 dude youre a MILLIONAIRE?

pierregasly dude gtfo

yukitsunoda0511 if i were them i would elope just to spite you

oscarpiastri dont give yn any ideas pls

yourusername no eloping for us i need my brothers to walk me down the aisle 😁😁😁

georgerussell63 to make sure you don’t trip over the dress?

yourusername youre officially uninvited 👎

user36 SHE WANTS CHARLES ENZO AND ARTHUR WALKING HER DOWN THE AISLE??? OH IM GONNA KILL MYSELF

[pathologicalreid]

cryptic | S.R.

You and Spencer get a surprise beyond your wildest dreams.

who? spencer reid x fem!AFAB!reader category: fluff (hurt/comfort a little bit) content warnings: oh geez. pregnancy, periods, weight, medical inaccuracy, cryptic pregnancy, traumatic birth, NICU, hospitals, maybe a little ooc i'm not sure, breastfeeding, reader is running solely on oxytocin, crying. word count: 6k a/n: does anyone else have an irrational fear of this? is it just me? that's why i wrote this anyways. also i wrote this MONTHS ago so if it's bad i'm not culpable. (yall voted for unhinged fluff, here it is) anyways i'm calling this part of my "spencer reid dilf agenda".

him

In his work life, Spencer faced fear every day – that was part of the reason he loved life with you so much. The two of you had just moved to your first house together and were still unpacking boxes when he was called away to upstate New York for a case.

You weren’t frustrated with him; you merely kissed him and encouraged him to go save the day.

So, when he told you last night that you must’ve hurt your back trying to move the couch, he didn’t think anything of it. He just told you to rest and to let him know how you were doing in the morning, but when the morning came, there was a break in the case. Spencer had completely forgotten that he was expecting your call.

As the team waited in the police precinct, he didn’t wonder why Hotch answered a phone call and furrowed his brows at Reid until he called him over to talk in private.

For once, his overactive mind went blank when Hotch explained to him that you were in the hospital and that he should call your best friend, Ivy.

In a daze, Spencer pulled his phone out of his pocket to find that he had missed two calls from you and thirteen calls from Ivy. Isolating himself in an abandoned office, he looked at your friend’s contact and pressed the call button.

The phone didn’t even have a chance to ring before Ivy answered, “Spencer! Oh my god,” she said, sounding relieved to be hearing from him. “I am so sorry for calling your boss. I pulled his number from Y/N’s contacts – I didn’t know how else to reach you, and I- “

“Ivy, what’s wrong?” Spencer asked, teetering between panic and impatience. “She told me she thought he had just pulled a muscle moving,” he explained, wondering what could’ve happened.

On the other end of the call, Ivy took a deep, shaky breath. “She’s okay, but you have to come home,” she whispered, keeping her voice down.

Now he was leaning closer to panic, “Where is she?”

“Northern Virginia Hospital,” Ivy responded. “When you get here, call me, and I’ll bring you to her,” she told him.

Spencer took a deep breath and left the empty office once he ended the call, very nearly running into Hotch, “I need to- “

Holding his hand up in a ‘wait’ gesture, Hotch nodded, “There’s a flight going out, Morgan will drive you to the airport. Don’t worry about anything here,” he instructed him, gesturing over to where Morgan was standing with the keys to one of the SUVs.

After promising to call when he could, a thirty-minute flight, and a ten-minute taxi right, Spencer called Ivy back.

“Hey,” her voice was quiet through the receiver, “are you here?”

He turned around in the lobby of the hospital, “I just came in the front entrance; what wing is she in?” He asked. Which wing would a back injury be in?  He supposed it depended on the severity of the back injury.

She cleared her throat and there was a soft rustling before Ivy answered, “Stay put, I’ll come to you.” Her words came out quickly as if she was trying to prevent him from going looking for her.

Then he began to lean closer to impatience, nonetheless, he waited the couple of minutes that it took for Ivy to come out of an elevator, motioning for Spencer to catch up before they took the elevator back up. “Ivy,” Spencer said, “What is happening?”

“She called me at six this morning, saying that she thought she had pulled a muscle in her back and couldn’t sleep. I told her to take some ibuprofen and try to rest, and if she didn’t feel better by lunch, I’d bring her to urgent care. She called me again at ten and told me something was seriously wrong, but she didn’t know what,” Ivy informed him, her voice sounding distant. “She was crying, and I’ve never heard her sound so scared. So, I called an ambulance and met her here while she was triaged…” Her voice trailed off as they exited the elevator.

Spencer’s heart ached at the thought of you being so scared, but it still didn’t answer his question: What happened?

Ivy sniffled and wiped her nose, “Spencer, have you ever heard of a cryptic pregnancy?”

He stopped in his tracks, eyes as wide as saucers, “She’s pregnant?” His words came out as a whisper, a mix of emotions flurried through him.

Your best friend smiled softly at him, “No, she had a baby. That back pain? She was in labor.”

Questions popped into his head quicker than he could ask him. He took a trembling breath, “Where are they?”

She led him around the corner, crossing her arms in front of her chest, “She’s in postpartum recovery, the baby’s up a floor in the NICU. It all happened really fast; you know? Anyways, they kind of whisked the baby away while saying things about Apgar scores that we didn’t really understand.

They stopped for a moment to get Spencer a visitor’s badge before he motioned for Ivy to continue.

Ivy shrugged in response, “She was kind of inconsolable after that, they gave her something to calm her down, but she keeps asking for you,” Ivy said, stopping outside of a door.

Spencer peeked through the blinds to your room. You’re awake, lying on the white bed, absentmindedly picking at the hospital bracelet around your wrist.

“If you need a minute before going in there, take it. Once you go in there, you need to be strong or brave or whatever,” Ivy instructed, putting her hands on her hips. “I’m not saying you can’t be confused or upset, I’d be worried if you weren’t. I’m saying she just gave birth unmedicated without ever even knowing she was pregnant, and they haven’t come back with an update,” she said, looking at Spencer like she was assessing a threat.

He nodded in understanding. Maybe when his head was clear he’d thank Ivy for being so protective of you, but he just nodded. “I need to be in there with her,” he insisted.

Ivy acquiesced, letting him know that she was going to go to the house to get clothes and was going to the store. At that point, Spencer had only been half listening to her.

You didn’t move on the bed when he opened the door. He looked at the whiteboard on the wall, his heart clenching when he saw the words ‘Baby Reid’ written below your name. Spencer quietly walked closer to you before he pulled a chair up so that it was at your bedside and took a seat. He could see tear tracks on your cheeks, “Sweetheart,” he whispered.

Your eyes closed, and two more tears streaked down your cheeks. There was an IV in your wrist and your vitals were being monitored. It wasn’t until Spencer leaned over and smoothed your hair back that you really started to cry.

Gently, Spencer sat on the edge of your bed, and you leaned forward into him. He just held you, running a hand up and down your back as he gently shushed you, “I’m here, darling. I’m here.”

“I had a baby,” you rasped, so quietly that Spencer wasn’t sure if you were telling him or trying to convince yourself that it wasn’t a dream.

He was quiet for just a moment, letting a few silent tears stream down his own cheeks. “I know,” he murmured, “I’m so proud of you.”

You hummed, leaning back ever so slightly, closing your eyes when Spencer kissed your forehead. “I tried calling you,” you whispered, looking up at him with watery eyes and lifting your hands so that you could wipe away the tears.

“I know. I’m so sorry,” he tried to apologize. There was no way for him to navigate this situation, but if he felt this lost, then he couldn’t begin to fathom how you were feeling.

Shaking your head, you waved off his apology, “Did you catch the bad guy?”

He nodded, smiling at your question, “Yeah, we got him this morning. That’s why I didn’t get your call,” he said as he took your hand and intertwined your fingers. “Can I get you anything? Have you eaten? Do you need water?”

A slight smile grew on your face at his concern, a fact that made his heart soar, “I should probably eat something.” The smile faded quickly, “We should probably talk, right?” You asked, leaning forward in the bed to reach for a pile of papers at the foot of the bed.

Noticing a pained look on your face, Spencer set a hand on your shoulder. “I’ll get it,” he said, guiding you so you were lying back on the pillows. “Please be careful,” he reached for the papers and handed them to you.

Quickly, you flipped through the stack of papers that was now in your lap. “I’ve been thinking, you know, and they gave me all of these papers with my options, but we have space at the new house. I work from home most of the time anyway, and we can afford it and- “

Spencer cut you off, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Yes,” he whispered against your lips before he kissed them again.

Studying you, he watched as you visibly relaxed into your hospital bed. He followed your gaze as you looked out the window of the hospital room, “Spence,” you breathed as a nurse wearing pink scrubs walked into the room.

She looked at him, “Hello, are you dad?”

Dad. He was a dad. Spencer nodded enthusiastically at the nurse.

“I’ve got these bracelets for you two then, they’re to help keep little families like yours together,” she says, loping the white bracelets around both his and your wrist. “Baby’s got two,” she lets you both know. “So, Baby Reid had a hard time breathing at first, but we up in the NICU cleared some of the amniotic fluid from her lungs and everything is looking much better now. Another nurse is bringing the bassinet now…” her voice trailed off when someone knocked on the door.

He wanted to make sure he had heard the nurse correctly. Did she say ‘her’?

The door opened, and it was the tiny hat with the bow that gave it away. She wriggled on the white sheet in her bassinet, looking around her new surroundings. Spencer looked from you to her and couldn’t help the tears that pricked his eyes. It was an emotion that he couldn’t quite place.

Noticing the way you leaned forward, the nurse spoke, “Would you like to hold her?”

“I- Can I? Is she okay?” You asked nervously, for the first time that day, Spencer heard the fear in your voice.

Nodding, the nurse wheeled the bassinet closer to you, helping you move your hospital gown so that you could do skin-to-skin. As she did so, she talked about bonding with a newborn, but Spencer was so enamored watching you that he wasn’t really listening. “We’re estimating that she’s about thirty-five weeks, so she’s late preterm, but she should be able to go home when you do,” the nurse informed you, making sure you were comfortable holding the baby before she stepped back.

The concept of being in a home surrounded by boxes with a newborn stressed him out, but then the tiny baby on your chest let out a squawk and he returned to just watching the two of you.

Both of the nurses left to give the three of you time, and you turned to Spencer, “What was thirty-five weeks ago?” You asked, gently rubbing your thumb over your newborn’s back.

“Exactly? July sixteenth,” he responded, watching your daughter as her eyes shut. “She fell asleep,” he observed, dropping his voice down to a whisper.

You hummed in response, bending your head down and pressing a gentle kiss on the crown of her head. “She needs a name,” you murmured, “we can’t keep calling her baby.”

Spencer leaned over the edge of your bed, “Do you have any ideas?” He asked, even though he already knew you’ve been keeping a list of baby names in your phone for years.

Shrugging ever so slightly, you peered down at your daughter, “All I know is that her last name’s gonna be Reid.” Your eyes flittered up to his, “Please don’t cry. If you cry, I’ll sob, and our daughter is asleep on me, and I don’t want to wake her up.”

“I just love you so much,” he told you softly.

“We can do this, can’t we?” You asked him nervously, narrowing your brows. “She doesn’t have a name. Our house is a disaster. Oh… Spence, we don’t have a car seat. We can’t take her home if we don’t have a car seat.”

Realistically, Spencer knew that you had at least twenty-four hours before you were released from the hospital, maybe forty-eight, given the circumstances. He also knew that you knew this, and he was afraid the events of the day were beginning to take a toll on you. He wasn’t going to say that, instead, he leaned forward and comforted you, “We’ll figure something out, I promise, okay? The name thing we can do.” He encouraged you to take one step at a time, “What about Ivy?”

Your head snapped up, “Really?” You asked, staying conscientious of the newborn on your chest.

“She was there for you through all of this when I couldn’t be,” he shrugged. “Did you know she dug through your contacts on your phone and called Hotch when I didn’t answer?” He watched a small smile tug at your lips, “I just think we should honor her in some way.”

Nodding, a full smile bloomed on your face, “Absolutely.” There was a brief silence, “Do you need to call Hotch? You can step out if you need to. We’re fine alone. I mean just for a little while not for- “

That was the second time you had nearly worked yourself into a panic. Spencer set a hand on your shoulder, “Y/N, angel. Don’t stress yourself out, okay? I’ll handle it.” He promised, after all, you had already done the hard work.

You paused and took a deep breath at his encouragement, leaving the both of you in silence while you caught your breath. “What about Eleanor?”

He smiled and looked at your sleeping baby, “It’s perfect,” he whispered.

The first time Eleanor, who had quickly been nicknamed Nell, cried with the two of you in the room was also the first time Spencer held her. He had been too nervous before, not that he’d tell you that, but when her wails started and he saw you wincing as you sat up in the bed, he instinctively picked her up.

He was still in his work clothes. Granted, he had taken off his tie and the top two buttons of his shirt had been undone, but it didn’t seem to bother Nell, the baby had quickly hushed upon contact. “Sit back,” he gently instructed, “Are you in pain?”

You nestled back into the pillows, “Just a little, they said it’s normal.”

Nothing about this was normal, Spencer wanted to say, but he knew you were well aware. He handed you the baby, knowing that it had been two hours since she last ate and that was likely why she was crying. According to the nurses, she was a good eater. He took their word for it.

Spencer watched you rock gently as Nell ate, you were staring off at nothing, so he asked, “What are you thinking right now?”

“I’m wondering why you’re not more freaked out,” you admitted, looking down at the newborn.

He leaned back in the chair, “I don’t know. I work best under pressure and with a little bit of chaos. It’s also highly likely that the entire situation hasn’t fully sunken in yet.”

You nodded understandingly, “It’s a lot to take in. If you think about it, most parents have months to fully prepare and wrap their heads around it. It’s been about ten hours for me. Maybe six hours for you.”

Nodding, Spencer watched intently as Nell fell asleep, her tiny fists falling and quiet coos coming from her. He heard you say something to him, but the words didn’t process. “What?”

Giggling quietly, you cocked your head at him, “Do you want to hold her?”

“Uh, I don’t know,” he replied honestly. You seemed like you were taking to parenthood exceedingly well, he was afraid he wouldn’t match up.

In the end, it was your understanding smile that prompted him to agree. “Unbutton your shirt,” you ordered, laughing at him when he looked bewildered. “Skin-to-skin isn’t just for moms, Spence. Besides, I want you to bond. I want her to know who you are even when you’re away for work.”

He obliged your request, undoing his shirt so that he could gently place Nell on his bare chest. She squawked while she was being moved from parent to parent but quieted again as soon as she was being held, “she’s so small,” Spencer remarked, marveling at the tiny creature on top of him.

You nodded sleepily, “Four pounds, fourteen ounces. She had to fit behind my ribcage somehow.”

The oddness of the situation began to find a place in him. Were there changes in you that neither of you had noticed? Your period was always irregular, there was no significant weight change, and even morning sickness had seemed to totally pass you by. “I can’t believe we had no idea,” he murmured as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to Nell’s head.

“I went to the doctor three months ago for chest pains, do you remember? I took an at-home pregnancy test just in case and it came back negative. The nurses here told me that there’s a less than one percent chance of that happening,” you informed him, slowly starting to mumble.

Spencer looked up at you to find that your eyes were fluttering shut. “You should sleep. I’ve got this.”

You grunted in protest, “but what- “

“No,” he interrupted. “She just ate, she’s sleeping, and you’re exhausted. I can spend some time with her while you sleep.”

Sleepily, you grinned, sliding down on the bed, and settling your head on the pillows, “Daddy’s girl,” you whispered.

He loved the sound of that.

you

You had always known that Spencer Reid was perfect, and as you watched him fall into the role of father, that knowledge became concrete. You blinked the sleep out of your eyes and kept your gaze on the two of them, not daring to disturb the peace. Instead, you watched in awe as he held your daughter, softly speaking to her as if she could fully comprehend what he was saying.

For all you knew, she could understand what he was saying. She was Spencer’s kid, after all.

Gently, he whispered to her and one of her little fingers gripped his index finger. “Your palmar reflex lets you hold my finger like that, Nellie. It’ll go away when you’re six months old,” he softly swiped his thumb over her back as he murmured to her. “I don’t usually like surprises,” he admitted to the infant, “but you and your mama might just be the best thing to ever happen to me.”

You grinned, reaching your hand out and touching the green armchair, “I love you.” He reached out a hand to hold yours. “Do you want to try to get some sleep?” You offered. Your body still ached, but getting some sleep had made you feel loads better.

“I don’t think I can,” he answered candidly. “I feel so…”

“Wired? Stressed?” You suggested.

He shrugged slightly, “I was going to say hyperaware, but yes,” he responded.

You wheeled the empty bassinet closer to him, “Set her down. Babies can sense stress. Take a minute, catch your breath,” you told him.

Reluctantly, Spencer placed Nell in the bassinet, adjusting the hat on her head while you watched him. “Don’t worry about me,” he said softly.

Your shoulders drooped involuntarily, “When was the last time you slept, love?” After years with Spencer, you know he would go days without sleeping in order to break a case. His lack of a response answered your question well enough. Quickly, you pressed your call button and asked if a nurse could take Nell to the nursery.

Once you made sure the baby was taken care of, you moved over in the hospital bed and patted the open space. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” he told you.

That was the problem with Spencer. He would always put you, and now Eleanor, ahead of himself. It made your heart ache. “Spence, this has been the craziest day, and I can tell you haven’t slept. So, get over here and lay down with me,” you instructed.

Rolling his eyes, Spencer kicked off his shoes before lying next to you in the hospital bed, “Do you promise to wake me if you need anything?” He asked as he gingerly pulled you into his arms, afraid of hurting you.

You hummed, resting your head on his shoulder, “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“I hate that saying,” Spencer whispered, pressing a tender kiss to your hairline.

Closing your eyes, you relaxed into him, “I promise, angel. Get some sleep.”

You startled awake, looking to make sure you didn’t wake Spencer. Your chest ached as you sat up, cringing at the noise your papery hospital gown made. Gingerly, you placed a hand over your heart, feeling the pounding of your heart and listening to the beeping of the monitor, cursing the screen for making so much noise.

This had happened earlier before Spencer arrived, and the doctor had given you something to calm down then.

When you came into the ER, they thought your appendix was bursting, but when they did an ultrasound, they found that you were in active labor. There was no time for an epidural, they didn’t have time to give you anything for the pain. A kind nurse held your hand and quickly explained what was going to happen.

Within thirty minutes, you arrived at the hospital, gave birth, and had your baby taken to the NICU.

It was too fast; your brain was so overwhelmed that it had shut down. It seemed like a ridiculous thought; how did you miss the birth of your daughter?

Hiccupping back a sob, you felt a comforting hand on your back, but the fact that you had woken Spencer up just made you cry harder. He wrapped his arms around you, and you buried your face in the crook of his neck. “Shh, it’s alright,” he cooed, rubbing small circles on your back. “I love you so much, you know that, right? I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you,” he comforted you. “It’s okay, it’s just all catching up with you, honey.”

You pulled away, wiping the tears from under your eyes. “It’s okay,” you repeated his words.

“What do you need right now?” He asked, smoothing your hair back. “Do you want to make a list? Do you want to move around?”

Nodding absentmindedly, you watched as Spencer pressed the call button and got up, helping you stand. Your legs shook, and you felt a bit like a foal, but it felt good to be out of bed. You haphazardly finger-combed your hair before stepping into hospital slippers and leaving the room. For now, the nurses instructed you to just walk around the maternity ward.

As the two of you walked around, you made several lists. Things you needed to buy. People you needed to call.

By the time you’d returned to the room, Ivy had returned. Spencer opened the door for you and helped you sit on the end of the bed.

“I’ve come bearing gifts,” Ivy greeted, grinning with bags in her hands. She gestured to a suitcase, “First, clothes for both of you. I just grabbed whatever I thought might be good. Toiletries and stuff too,” she said, rolling the suitcase off to the side. “I grabbed a couple of newborn outfits, but again, I was kind of flying blind. The lady at the department store was extremely helpful.” She handed Spencer a bag of baby clothes. “I got a car seat, the same lady recommended it, she was probably getting a commission, but it’s in my car. I have approximately zero idea how to set it up, but I figured, Spencer has a doctorate in engineering. He can do it.”

You glanced blearily at your best friend, “Ivy, you didn’t have to do all of this. This is too much,” you confessed, holding a tiny onesie in your hand.

She dismissed your insistence with a wave of her hand, “I also got this.” Ivy held out a small stuffed duck. “I know it won’t do her much good now, but I couldn’t help myself.”

After you changed out of your hospital garb, you looked at Spencer, “Go call Hotch, we’ll be good here for a while.” You gestured to your best friend, who was filtering through the suitcase she had packed, trying to find your hairbrush. At your request, he told you he’d also ask the nurse to bring Nell back down so that Ivy could meet her.

Once he was gone, Ivy sat behind you on the bed and brushed through your hair, tucking it out of your face, you were finally beginning to feel a little bit more like yourself by the time she had finished.

You watched intently as the nurse arrived at the door, “Do you want to meet her?”

Ivy nodded enthusiastically, lips parting as she observed the small baby. “Is that her name?” She rasped, looking at the card on the bassinet, Eleanor Ivy Reid. “That’s not funny, don’t joke about stuff like that.”

“Yeah,” you whispered, keeping your voice down as Eleanor slept. “It’s not a joke, and for the record, it was Spence’s idea,” you informed her, reaching into the bassinet, and scooping up the now-swaddled infant. “He’s so grateful that you were there for me, and I am too.”

She smiled, “I’m always going to be here for you two – you three now. Number one babysitter,” she said, pointing to herself. 

You sighed and looked from your friend to your daughter, “She’s got a whole FBI unit of babysitters.”

“I’ll be here when they’re away – when Spencer’s away,” she reminded you, carefully adjusting the hat on the baby in your arms.

The last thing you wanted to think of was Spencer being gone, leaving you to take care of a baby you weren’t ready for.

Ivy must have sensed your nerves, “Hey, you know I’m always in your corner, right?”

You nodded slowly, “It’s just all catching up with me. I have to call my mom. I have to call my boss. How do you retroactively apply for maternity leave?”

“One thing at a time,” she said soothingly. “Right now, just enjoy your time with your perfect little family. I’ll call your mom for you,” she offered. “If your boss gives you any grief, he’ll have to deal with me.” Standing up, she placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, “I’m going to go get food, do you two still have the same orders from the deli?”

Confirming with her, you moved so that you could feed Nell, watching her as she looked up at you. “She’s right, you know? You are perfect,” you cupped her head with your hand, looking up to find Spencer watching from the doorway.

“Hotch says congratulations,” he spoke gently, striding over to your bedside and sitting on the edge of the bed. “He also said to let the team know if we needed anything,” he let you know, pressing a kiss to your forehead. He continued to let you know that Hotch had offered to figure out Spencer’s paternity leave, and while you felt bad about giving Hotch something else on his to-do list, it felt nice to have one less thing on yours. 

You nodded, “Ivy’s gonna call my mom, so that’s two things off of our list.”

Spencer squeezed your shoulder, “They asked if they could come to visit, but I didn’t want to answer for you.” He moved back to the armchair, “I just said we’d let them know.”

“At the very least we’ll send a picture,” you murmured. “I’m surprised you’re not researching newborns right now.”

Raising his eyebrows, Spencer shrugged, “I asked one of the nurses if I could get access to the hospital library.”

You snorted, “Of course you did.”

No one from the BAU ended up visiting while you were in the hospital, mainly because the idea of too many people in the one hospital room made you anxious, but both you and Eleanor had been cleared to go home. Eventually, you would have to allow visitors.

“Spencer, you can go the speed limit,” you said from the backseat of the car, not taking your eyes off of the baby in her car seat.

He glanced back in the rearview mirror, “This stretch of road is bumpy. I don’t want to wake her.” Despite his anxieties, he was taking to fatherhood remarkably well.

You shook your head, “She’s already awake, babe.” She looked around her new surroundings, spending part of the six hours a day that she was awake going home for the first time. Part of the beauty of a newborn was that they slept for eighteen hours a day, but only in about fifty-minute bursts.

Spencer kept glancing back, and you made a mental note to get a mirror for the rear-facing car seat.

As he turned onto your street, you sat up slightly. “Who’s here?” You asked, looking at the cars in your driveway. You recognized Ivy’s car, but none of the others rang any bells.

“That’s JJ’s car, and that’s Morgan’s truck,” Spencer told you as he pulled into the driveway. Once he got out of the car, he ran around to where you were sitting. He opened the door, taking the car seat out of its base before helping you out of the car. “I had no idea they were here,” he said curiously.

You hummed thoughtfully, looking at Eleanor in her car seat. There was a part of you that felt horrible, you didn’t have anywhere for her to sleep set up. Another part of you knew that she’d be just fine sleeping in your arms while Spencer set something up. “Far be it from the BAU to abandon one of their own in their time of need,” you murmured, stepping through the front door as Spencer held it open for you.

Setting the carrier on the coffee table, you undid the clips so that you could hold the baby. As you lifted her, her legs scrunched up until you held her to your chest, at which point she settled.

“Where are they?” You asked, gently rubbing Nell’s back as she started to fall asleep on you. You peeked around the corner into the kitchen, across the counter, there were bottles set out to dry, along with other various baby things. “Oh, Spence,” you breathed.

There was a distinct lack of boxes in your house, they weren’t entirely unpacked, but there were much less than there had been when you left. A crash from upstairs got both of your attention, Spencer’s arm instinctively going around your waist.

Together, the two of you walked upstairs, finding members of the BAU in one of the rooms that was going to be a guest room setting up a nursery. “Hey?” You said, peeking in through the doorway.

“Oh my god!” Penelope said, “Wait, crap, sleeping baby.” She covered her mouth with her hands, horrified at the idea of disturbing the sleeping infant.

You smiled, looking around suspiciously, “What’s going on here?”

Rossi waved a finger at you, “Your best friend is a drill sergeant is what’s going on here.”

Confused, you turned around to see Ivy with her hands on her hips. “I thought you weren’t coming home until the afternoon,” she explained, “I was going to have them all out of here so you could have a nice peaceful house.”

“You enlisted the BAU to unpack our house?” You asked her, tears pricking at your eyes.

Ivy shrugged, “It started as just asking a question, but we all came to the same conclusion. The two of you were never going to ask for help, so we had to take matters into our own hands.” She wiped her hands on her jeans, “Plus, they have kids, so they actually knew what you needed,” she gestured to JJ and Hotch.

You leaned forward to give her a one-armed hug, keeping yourself mindful of the baby. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Penelope hugging Spencer.

JJ stepped forward, “I’m around. Any questions you have,” she assured you. “How are you feeling?”

Laughing nervously, you looked up at Spencer, “Still reeling.”

The rest of the team laughed too, which brought you some semblance of comfort. “I almost thought you were playing a prank,” Emily confessed.

“No, you definitely thought they were trying to prank us. You didn’t believe them until they sent the picture,” Morgan said, exposing her.

Appalled, Emily rolled her eyes, but you spoke up, “I’m not sure I would have believed us either.” Had you not experienced it firsthand, you definitely would’ve been skeptical. Eleanor was going on two days old, and you had still woken up wondering if it was all some kind of dream.

Spencer had previously told everyone that no one could hold her. He was concerned about germs. You echoed his concerns, just maybe not as strongly. So, instead, everyone just cooed at her until Spencer gently ushered you into your bedroom.

You let out a sigh of relief when you spotted a bassinet set up next to your bed. Gently, you set her down while Spencer pulled the bedding down, “You should rest,” he told you softly.

“Spence, I just spent the majority of the last two days in a bed. I’m tired of bed,” you responded, sitting down on the ledge of the bed.

He hummed in response, “You just had a baby.”

Reaching out, you took his hands in yours, “Moving around will be good for me. I promise not to do anything to tear my stitches. I’ll just show Nell the house.”

“Babies don’t recognize their surroundings until four to six months, so she wouldn’t recognize anything you showed her anyway,” he told you.

You narrowed your eyebrows at him, “Spencer."

He held up his hands in concession, “Right, overbearing.”

“Hey,” you said softly, “We’re still figuring this out, right? So, we’ll take it one step at a time.” You offered, having already had an in-depth discussion about being okay with making mistakes. “Why don’t we go check out the nursery?” You stood up, watching as Spencer carefully picked Nell up, cradling her in his arms.

You led the way into the hallway to find JJ, Morgan, and Ivy finishing the nursery. Morgan and JJ moved the crib to a different side of the room while Ivy placed books on a shelf.

Ever so slightly, you leaned into Spencer, glancing at the sleeping infant in his arms, you reached over and cupped her head with your hand. “This is your family, Nell,” you whispered, smiling when Spencer leaned down to press a kiss to the crown of your head.

That was your first lesson in parenthood, it really does take a village.  

please remember to like, comment, and/or reblog if you enjoyed!

[reidrum]

if you keep asking | s.r

pairing: spencer reid x fem!bau!reader

a/n: this was requested with “if you keep asking me i’m not gonna be okay” or smth along the lines 😭 i am a glutton for hurt/comfort fics so if yall have any more requests send em in :)

summary: in which you’re trying to keep it together when you hear some detectives talking ill of you, and spencer isn’t gonna have it

cw: hurt/comfort, self deprecation, insecure!reader, bitch ass detectives, protective bau my heart, use of she/her pronouns

wc: 2.2k

_______

the bau team was filing into the bullpen after landing from their last case in seattle, everyone making a beeline for their desks to get a head start on their reports so they could go home faster. everyone, except you. it felt like you were on autopilot, remembering your last known movements and just repeating them for as long as you could.

the case in seattle was rough to say the least. the unsub’s mo seemed to change every minute, making any progress the team made obsolete. the only thing that seemed to be somewhat consistent was where the unsub was taking his victims, which meant the geographical profile was the most important part to solving the case, a task you and reid were assigned to.

it started off fine, you both had found the comfort zone of where the unsub would strike next to figure out how to catch him in the act. except the next time he struck it was completely out of the predicted range, and this time a kid had died. no one could have anticipated that happening. it didn’t make the loss hurt any less.

the team knew it wasn’t anyone’s fault, humans are unpredictable, and that includes serial killers. spencer made sure to tell you specifically that it wasn’t your fault, he knew how you’d get if someone didn’t tell you.

his efforts went to utter waste when you walked by a room at the precinct with detectives whispering about how “you fucked up the whole profile, that’s why that kid died” and “it’s clear you make the team stupider, how did you even get into the fbi in the first place?”

it wasn’t the first time your abilities were in question. you were the newest member of the team, having only transferred six months ago from cold cases. you may be new to the field, but there was a reason hotch chose you personally for the bau.

you tried hard to prove yourself, despite pretty much everyone saying your skillset was enough proof. you’d stay late to finish reports, do extra research on cases to help garcia narrow her searches faster, and you spent countless hours at the training range.

you were a worthy agent, anyone who knew you or read your resume knew that. but right now, you felt like the smallest person on earth, an imposter. what the hell were you even doing here if you couldn’t save him.

you shouldn’t be allowed to feel relief that the team caught the unsub, not when there’s blood on your hands.

the bad thoughts swirling in your head causes you to stall your motions when you’re putting files away, gaining the attention of morgan, “you alright, sweet cheeks?”

“i’m good morgan, don’t worry.” you lie effortlessly. if he can tell you’re lying, he doesn’t mention it and turns back to his work.

taking a deep breath, you stand up to go to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee, when you run into jj finishing up making her own, “i was just thinking about you, i got this new creamer i think you’d rea-, hey, are you okay?” jj starts but ends concerned.

you try to focus on metronomic tick of the clock so you dont escalate, “i’m fine j,” you laugh unconvincingly, “what creamer did you get?”

she ignores your question, “because i know that was a tough case, and if you need to talk about it with someo-“

“jj, drop it, please.”

the blonde’s face drops a little at your sternness, but respects your space and offers you to try the creamer before returning to her desk. you feel bad for snapping at her, but the growing guilt within you is giving you apathy, and you can’t bring yourself to care at this moment.

you linger in the kitchen so as to avoid any more concerned faces, and you’re left to your own devices that are slowly overtaking you.

unbeknownst to you, spencer had been watching you since you all landed back in quantico. he kept his distance, mostly because he knew how overwhelmed you get at confrontation, especially about your emotions. he was the same way, a man of logic getting befuddled by emotion was enough cognitive dissonance to last a long time.

he knew it was different with you. you had a way of internalizing everything in your surrounding, a downfall to your endless empathy for others even if they never deserve it. he could explain the logic behind your beliefs, and hopefully use facts to help you relax, but that was the other thing he knew about you; you were stubborn. asking for help is something you hated doing, and if it wasn’t on your accord to be asking, it was even more detrimental to your mood.

so when he watched you duck out from the kitchen and push past the glass doors of the bullpen, he knew you were reaching the head of your doom spiral quickly.

spencer got up from his desk, “i’m gonna go check on her.”

jj nodded, “just be mindful spence, something feels different.”

they’d all been on cases that hit a little too close to home, how could they not when all they do is rid the world of the evilest of evildoers. but after a good cry, a rant to a teammate, or even an emergency therapy session, even the worst of the scum could be washed away.

something about the way you’ve been acting since they landed seemed like those fixits aren’t going to work this time.

he let out a sigh in response and walked out of the bullpen, realizing he didn’t actually know which direction you went in. assuming you’d want to be alone, he thinks the bathroom might’ve been a viable option for you and heads towards it.

the nice thing about the seventh floor is that it’s only for the bau, the bullpen was where the team spent most of their time but outside the doors there were so many empty rooms being used for storage.

so as spencer walked towards the bathroom in the hopes of finding you, his ears pick up on a tiny sniffle a little ways before it. he stops in his tracks, hoping he was just hearing things. but another pained sob rang through the door on his left, and he knew he’d found you.

he rapps the door a few times, softly calling your name, “hey, it’s spencer…can i come in please?”

you were on the other side sitting at one of the abandoned desks with your head down, but shot up at hearing spencer’s voice, “i- i’m fine i just needed a minute. i’ll be back in like two minutes, i promise.” you angrily wipe at the tears pooling on your face, grateful that you took your makeup off in the plane.

“honey, that’s not what i asked,” he starts, “is it okay if i come in?

your heart clenches at the term of endearment as you stare at the door knowing he was waiting for your okay to come in, and you start to internally weigh your options. you could let him in, and let him in to do whatever comforting you know logically would help. or you could lie, and feign ignorance to the end.

don’t they say ignorance is bliss?

you make sure to wipe the last of your tears and your runny nose before practicing a few fake smiles so it didn’t look like your face was frozen in sadness for the last thirty minutes. turning the knob you swing the door open, borderline creepy smile on your face as you greet the man, “hi dr. reid! was there something you were looking for?”

he furrows his brows at your complete (fake) shift in mood, but he comes in and shuts the door behind him, and moves to stand a few feet from you, “what’s going on?”

“nothing spence, i’m fine.” you insist.

spencer thinks if you could be more see through you’d be a windexed window. you’re avoiding eye contact with him, picking at the skin of your thumb, he can see your nose is red most likely from all the tissue blowing, and your eyes are still puffy and lined with some unshed tears still. you are so clearly breaking at the seams, like an old childhood teddy bear with stuffing falling out the sides yet hoping you can offer some semblance of stability despite your state.

“you don’t look fine, honey. why won’t you tell me what’s bothering you?”

his words almost make you falter, and you think the walls you built so high are starting to chip down. “it’s not a big deal spence, i-,” a hiccuped breath gives you away, “i can deal with it on my own.”

spencer instinctively shortens the gap between you two, “you shouldn’t have to. i just wanna help you.”

“but i’m oka-“

“no you’re not.”

there is only one tiny thin thread left holding you together. “well,” you take a deep inhale and your voice gets impossibly small, “if you keep saying things like to me i’m not gonna be okay.”

“that’s why i’m here.” he says softly.

you look up at him with the biggest glassy doe eyed look he’s ever seen, and it’s like spencer can hear the snap of the thread in real time when he watches your face absolutely crumble. he doesn’t hesitate to pull you into his embrace, allowing him to hold your head down in the middle of his chest while his other hand smooths up and down your back in comfort.

“i know, shh, hey it’s okay, i got you.” he comforts.

your hands wrap around his waist beneath his suit jacket and you keep your face buried in his chest, inhaling the musky vanilla scent of his cologne mixed with the fresh laundry detergent smell letting it ground you back to him.

“i’m sorry.” you cry.

“don’t say that,” he hushes, “is it about the case?” you nod in his embrace, “we talked about it remember? there was nothing we could have done. we did everything right, sometimes it just doesn’t work out, you know that.” he moves his hand to tangle in your hair and rub your head.

“i- i know,” you say through labored breaths. you take a big breath before admitting the true reason for your anguish, “when we were about to leave, i walked by a room with some detectives talking about how i ruined the case and that…i’m the reason the kid died.”

“what?” he pulls back to look you in the eyes hoping to find any indication that you didn’t believe those poisoned words, “we both worked on that geographical profile together, the whole team agreed it was accurate and acted accordingly. what happened was not your fault. at all.” he emphasizes the last two words.

“yeah but…i don’t know maybe i could ha-“

“stop. you can’t do that to yourself. we did what we could with what we had, the burden of that child’s passing does not fall on you. we were only able to find the unsub’s hiding spot when you figured out he’d been going to the same gas station since the murders started.” he reinforced to you.

“they said that they didn’t know how i even got into the academy in the first place, and that i make the team stupider.” you quietly added.

spencer felt the rage consume his body, already planning the ways he was going to obliterate seattle pd. he cradled your head to look at him in the eyes, “listen to me. you are an important asset to this team. you make this team better at what they do, you make me better at what i do. you mean so much to me and the team okay? please don’t forget that.”

he swipes at a fallen tear on your cheek as you tell him between sniffles, “thanks spence…” you hope he understands the sentiment and love you’re trying to exude to him, even thought you’re unable to vocalize it.

“you gotta tell me if something like that happens,” he softly scolds you, “i’ll make sure they lose their fucking jobs.”

you’re about to speak when he cuts you off, “and don’t tell me that we should be the bigger people, because once the rest of the team hears about this, they’re all gonna be fighting over who’s gonna kick the shit out of them.”

you let out a tearful giggle, “you sound really funny when you curse.”

he scoffs, “what the hell, i do not!”

“you sound like a baby duckling that just learned how to say fuck.”

he starts to guide you out of the room and towards hotch’s office so you can recount what happened, “ouch, i’m hurt. i’d like to think the pistol and fbi badge i carry makes me intimidating.”

you giggle again, and spencer puts aside his rage to revel in the fact that you’re feeling better.

when hotch learned of what happened he immediately called seattle pd to file a motion to get those detectives fired, and the rest of the team were secretly praying for a case in seattle again so they could, as spencer predicted, kick the shit out of them.

[thedensworld]

Illogical Project | C.Sc

Pairing: Ceo! Seungcheol x reader

Genre: fluff, humor, stranger to crush

Summary: It was just a project to get rid of a side chick, but Seungcheol fall. Deeply.

I was having so much fun writing this! Part 2 yall ask is here

Seungcheol didn’t have to do this. But he needed to do it. Logic flew right out the window the moment he’d typed your name into the company group website. Imagine his surprise when your profile popped up, revealing you were part of the marketing team—under his own label, no less.

The woman sneaking around with his cousin’s fiancé was one of his employees?

Seungcheol let out a dry laugh. Well, this just got interesting. It shouldn’t be too hard to get rid of you.

It has been two years since Jiyeon, his cousin, and Jeonghan got engaged. Their engagement had been more of a business deal than a love story. And although Jiyeon’s engagement to Jeonghan was supposed to be purely transactional, it had been a lifesaver for Seungcheol. Thanks to her, he no longer had to endure his grandfather’s endless nagging about getting married.

But then, yesterday happened.

“Jeonghan’s been cheating on me!” Jiyeon had wailed, storming into his office like a whirlwind. Seungcheol hadn’t thought much of it—Jiyeon tended to exaggerate. He’d been about to brush it off with some nonchalant comment until she hit him with: “I think I’m going to call off the engagement.”

Hold up. What?

That wasn’t part of the plan. Jiyeon couldn’t break off the engagement! Without it, Seungcheol’s peace and freedom would go down the drain. He’d be right back to enduring those endless blind dates set up by his grandfather. Dinners with girls whose names he’d forget before dessert even arrived. Absolutely not.

Which led him to this moment, finding you—Jeonghan’s secret girlfriend. His smirk widened. If cutting you out of the picture meant keeping Jiyeon on board, then so be it. He’d convince you to take your cheating ways elsewhere.

Who would’ve thought his biggest problem was one of his own subordinates?

If anyone could see him now—Seungcheol, the company CEO, scrolling through employee profiles like a suspicious boyfriend—it would be mortifying. But hey, desperate times called for desperate measures. And there was no way he was letting his hard-earned freedom slip away because of Jeonghan’s wandering eyes and your sneaky rendezvous.

*

"Mr. Choi has been acting strange lately," your manager said as she returned from his office, a puzzled look on her face.

"He’s refused every ad plan we’ve pitched to him. And now he’s specifically asked for you to handle it."

Your brows shot up in surprise as you pointed at yourself. “Me?”

“Yes, you. He wants you in his office in ten minutes—with the best idea you can bring to the table.”

“Wait, ten minutes?!” You shot up from your chair, scrambling to find the folder you always kept at your desk. Panic set in as you grabbed your iPad—your lifeline filled with every concept, draft, and half-baked idea you’d ever had. “Why are you just telling me this now?”

Ms. Shin shrugged nonchalantly, already turning her attention back to her own tasks. “It slipped my mind. Good luck!”

You let out a frustrated sigh. Typical Ms. Shin. She was a perpetual headache wrapped up in business casual attire. Just yesterday, she’d dumped her entire presentation prep on you, claiming she was “too busy” to handle it herself. Never mind the fact that you were the one who’d developed almost every campaign concept the department had used for the past two years.

But still, you remained a shadow. Despite your efforts, you were practically invisible in the department—overworked and unnoticed.

As you rushed to the elevator, the thought crossed your mind: Why did Mr. Choi want to see you now?

Was he starting to see through Ms. Shin’s facade and realize where the real work was coming from? Your heart raced with a mix of excitement and anxiety. This could either be a breakthrough… or a complete disaster.

Jeonghan used to tell you a lot about Seungcheol, his college friend. From what you’d heard, Seungcheol was the embodiment of professionalism. He wouldn’t judge you for staying in the shadows to support your boss all these years, but that didn’t make him any less intimidating. The truth was, you didn’t know him well enough to understand what went on in his mind.

To you, Mr. Choi was just your boss’s boss—the executive you occasionally spotted from a distance as he strode through the office with that air of authority and responsibility. He was the face of Heidos Food, a man who commanded respect and led by example. His dedication and work ethic were part of the reason you’d decided to join this label among the Heidos Group’s many subsidiaries.

Taking a deep breath, you managed a smile at his secretary. “Mr. Choi is expecting me,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

The secretary gave a curt nod and led you to the door. You couldn’t help but feel small as you stood before it, staring at the imposing wood panel. The secretary knocked gently and stepped aside, motioning for you to enter.

This was it—your first time stepping into the office of the man who practically ran the entire division.

Your heart pounded wildly in your chest as you took a deep breath and stepped inside.

What could he possibly want from me?

"It was disappointing, Ms. Ji."

Your heart sank as Mr. Choi’s voice sliced through the silence after you wrapped up the impromptu presentation.

“I don’t see your idea being as innovative as I expected. The format feels repetitive—similar to every program the marketing department has produced over the past few years.”

You bit your tongue, resisting the urge to argue. How could you not? Internally, you were screaming. Of course, everything looked the same—they were all your ideas! Yet, it wasn’t like you could point that out to him.

Instead, you forced yourself to respond with a calm, “I’m sorry, sir.”

Mr. Choi tapped his pen thoughtfully against the desk, his gaze never leaving your face. “But,” he continued slowly, “it does have potential. It just needs a bit more… observation and refinement. Do you think you can handle this project, Ms. Ji? It’s rather risky.”

His question caught you off guard. Risky? Since when did Mr. Choi—who typically preferred playing it safe—assign risky projects to subordinates? Still, you couldn’t let this opportunity slip away.

“I’m confident I can handle it, sir. If you trust me, I’ll deliver.”

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he nodded. “Good. In that case, pack some clothes. We’re going to Singapore for a seminar tomorrow.”

What?!

You blinked at him, stunned. Singapore? Tomorrow? You hadn’t even processed what just happened before he dismissed you, turning his attention back to his paperwork as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on you.

*

Seungcheol had no idea where your confidence came from. He’d incidentally overheard your phone conversation with Jeonghan earlier, and it was all sweet and annoyingly romantic.

Alright, maybe it wasn’t exactly accidental. Maybe he intentionally eavesdropped—just a little—but who could blame him? He couldn’t believe how bold you were to have such an intimate call with Jeonghan right in front of him.

So, people are right when they say love is thrilling when you’re playing with fire, he mused, his annoyance growing.

"You should pay attention to her more," he heard you say, your voice dropping to a softer tone that made Seungcheol’s scowl deepen.

Then you added, with a laugh that sounded entirely too carefree, "You’re right, I’m the better companion."

He felt his jaw clench involuntarily. Companion, huh? The nerve of you—being all cozy with Jeonghan right under his nose. He was already irritated by this whole situation, but now he had to endure your lovey-dovey chatter too?

“Alright, I gotta go. Bye... Have a nice day!” you finished, your voice as sweet as honey.

The moment you hung up, Seungcheol snapped himself into a more composed posture, acting as if he hadn’t just been caught leaning against the wall, listening like a gossip. He made a show of dropping himself onto the couch in front of you.

To his further irritation, you looked up with an even brighter smile.

“What should I do today, sir?” you asked, voice cheerful and professional, as if you hadn’t just been caught cooing over the phone.

Seungcheol had to think. There was really nothing too strenuous on the agenda for you today, but a part of him—call it the vindictive part—wanted to see you squirm, especially after witnessing your little show of affection for Jeonghan.

“Take notes on everything,” he ordered, watching your expression closely. “Mingle with everyone. Join every discussion. Since I’ll be attending a separate meeting, make sure you don’t make a fool out of our company. Got it?”

You nodded and jotted everything down like the diligent employee you were. “Okay, noted, sir.”

Seungcheol let out a sigh, not quite satisfied with the reaction—or lack thereof. “Can I trust you with this?”

Your smile remained unwavering as you met his gaze. “Don’t worry, sir. I’ll let you know if I need anything.”

Something about your calm composure only made him want to push you further.

How could you be this unbothered?

On the last day of the seminar, Seungcheol could hardly believe it when his company was presented with an award of appreciation—all thanks to your hard work over the past few days. He had known you were good, but he hadn’t expected you to exceed everyone’s expectations this much.

But what truly grated on his nerves was the way people kept talking about you: “That woman with brains, bravery, and beauty,” they said, almost in awe.

Is this a business seminar or some kind of beauty pageant? he grumbled internally, irritated by how many times he’d heard those words. Every time someone praised your creativity and wit, it felt like another jab. Yet, even he couldn’t deny you deserved the recognition. The achievement might have been unexpected, but it wasn’t entirely surprising.

Now, he found himself sitting at a high-end restaurant for lunch, just hours before their flight back to South Korea. You sat stiffly across from him, clearly uncomfortable. After refusing his invitation five times and trying to hitch a ride to the airport with his secretary instead, here you were—reluctantly.

“You can choose whatever you’d like, Ms. Ji. You’ve earned it,” Seungcheol said, not looking up from his menu as he spoke.

You mumbled a polite acknowledgment, your gaze glued to the menu. Seungcheol raised his hand to call the waitress over and glanced at you, waiting for your order. His eyes widened in surprise when you rattled off your request in perfect, fluent Malay.

“Wait—you can speak the language?” he asked, caught off guard.

You nodded casually. “Yes, I studied and graduated here.”

“Hmm,” Seungcheol murmured thoughtfully. He tapped his fingers against the table, considering your response. “With that kind of portfolio, you could easily settle into a bigger company. Why stay at Heidos Food?”

To his surprise, you shook your head, rejecting the notion. “No, Heidos Food is the perfect fit for me.”

Seungcheol raised a brow. He couldn’t tell if you were just being polite or genuinely meant it. “And why is that?”

You paused, looking a little hesitant before speaking. “Five years ago, I had just graduated, and I attended the company’s anniversary event with someone I knew. I saw your speech there—it was incredible. It motivated me to become a part of Heidos Foods. I applied several times, went through multiple interviews, and finally got my position three years ago.”

Seungcheol didn’t like the way your story painted him as an integral figure in your career choice. He didn’t want to think he was that important. And yet, there was no denying that something about the way you spoke made him pause. He found himself strangely flattered—and maybe a little more intrigued than he wanted to admit.

He glanced away, clearing his throat. Stop it, Seungcheol. She’s not special.

But the thought wouldn’t leave him. He kept stealing glances at you, wondering how he had overlooked these little details about you. Maybe there really was something to what everyone kept saying: brains, bravery, and beauty—all rolled into one package.

No, he told himself sternly. Focus.

Slowly, Seungcheol found himself losing sight of his initial motive for getting to know you better—the desire to uncover the truth behind your connection with Jeonghan. As he spent more time with you, your charm and intelligence began to weave a spell around him, shifting his focus from suspicion to genuine curiosity.

The more he learned about you, the more he realized how difficult it was to see you as just a subordinate or a rival in Jeonghan’s affections.

He hadn’t planned on feeling this way, and it unsettled him. What started as a calculated move to monitor your interactions had transformed into something entirely different.

Seungcheol caught himself daydreaming about your conversations, replaying moments that made him smile. He was drawn to you in ways he hadn’t expected, and that realization left him both exhilarated and confused.

As his initial purpose faded into the background, a new question took root in his mind: What if getting close to you had become the most intriguing project of all?

*

“Can you send Ms. Ji to my office after this? There’s something I need to discuss with her.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but she just left the building a few minutes ago due to personal business. She didn’t provide any details.”

Seungcheol nodded in frustration as Ms. Shin, your manager, wrapped up her paperwork. It had been two weeks since the two of you returned from the business trip, and he still found himself at a crossroads. He was working diligently to create a void that would justify getting rid of you, especially concerning your relationship with Jeonghan.

Alright, if he could be honest; he didn’t want to lose a gem like you from the company. The idea of you being Jeonghan’s “side chick” was almost infuriating, especially given your intelligence and undeniable beauty.

Yeah, Seungcheol couldn’t deny that your beauty truly shone when you were focused on your work, and he found it charming every time he handed you a new challenge.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed with a call from Jiyeon, his cousin. He picked it up, immediately greeted by her sobs.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” he asked, his protective instincts kicking in.

“Jeonghan…” Jiyeon cried, her voice trembling as she choked out his name.

“What did that bastard do now?”

There was no immediate response, just the sound of her muffled cries. Then, through the tears, Seungcheol finally heard her say, “He had a car accident after we fought. He’s in the hospital now.”

Within moments, Seungcheol found himself standing outside the operating room with Jiyeon by his side. To his surprise, he spotted you sitting quietly in a corner, clearly distressed. So here you were, the “personal business” Ms. Shin had mentioned.

“Let’s get you something to drink,” he said gently, placing a reassuring hand on Jiyeon’s shoulder and guiding her away from the waiting area. He handed her a can of soda as they sat down together.

“We fought on the phone,” Jiyeon explained, her voice still shaky. “I mentioned his side chick, and he denied it. He said he had no one besides me. I didn’t believe him, and then he said he would explain everything when he came to my office, but he got into a car accident.”

Seungcheol nodded, processing her words. “Y/N was there,” he said, gesturing toward you in the corner. “Y/N. She’s the one Jeonghan was supposedly seeing,” he added, his voice laced with confusion.

Jiyeon’s brow furrowed in frustration as she shook her head. “No, they are siblings. They have the same mother,” she sobbed, her voice breaking under the weight of her emotions.

Seungcheol’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What? They’re siblings?”

“Yes,” Jiyeon replied, her expression a mixture of sadness and relief. “That explains everything. I thought he was cheating on me, but it turns out he was just trying to protect her.”

The weight of this shocking revelation shifted the tension in the room, leaving both of them momentarily speechless. Seungcheol leaned back against the wall, trying to digest the news.

Jiyeon wiped her tears, glancing toward you again. “I need to talk to her,” she said, determination filling her voice. “She deserves an explanation.”

Seungcheol nodded in agreement, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. Maybe this would clear the air and mend the rift between you.

*

"Has she done this a lot to you?" Seungcheol heard your voice coming from inside the room as he and Jiyeon were about to enter. Both of them paused instinctively, hovering just outside the door.

"She accused you of cheating. She put you in this situation!" Your tone was laced with a rage Seungcheol had never heard from you before. There was an intensity, a fierceness in your voice that was completely unfamiliar to him.

"I could’ve lost you…”

Jeonghan’s voice was soft, barely audible, as if trying to calm you down. “I’m fine, Y/N. I promise. It’s not her fault.”

Jiyeon, who had been poised to enter the room, suddenly froze, her eyes widening in realization. She glanced at Seungcheol, and he could see the confusion and guilt reflecting in her gaze. Before she could turn away, you stepped out of the room, your eyes red and swollen. The sight of Seungcheol and Jiyeon standing there, having clearly overheard the conversation, caught you off guard, but you quickly composed yourself.

You cleared your throat and walked past them with your head held high, your expression a perfect mask of indifference, as if you didn’t realize—or perhaps didn’t care—that they’d been listening in.

Seungcheol watched you go, his mind spinning. He couldn’t help but be reminded of the college days when he and Jeonghan had shared a dorm room. As the only Korean students on campus, they naturally gravitated toward each other. He recalled Jeonghan often mentioning his younger sister—a sibling from the same mother who was in middle school at the time. Seungcheol had never met her, but from Jeonghan’s stories, it was clear how much he treasured her.

"I get a headache every time she doesn’t pick up my call!" Jeonghan would grumble late at night, throwing his phone down in frustration. “She’s so stubborn, but she’s all I’ve got.”

And now, it all clicked into place. The sister Jeonghan had spoken of so fondly, the one he worried about constantly, was you. You, the woman who had captivated his attention with your intelligence and charm, were Jeonghan’s sister. Someone who had been right under his nose this entire time.

*

The hum of the office printer was the only sound in the room as you carefully gathered the documents you needed to submit. Steeling yourself, you walked to Seungcheol’s office and knocked gently before stepping inside.

Seungcheol glanced up from his computer when he heard the door open. The usual lighthearted banter that had developed between the two of you was noticeably absent as you approached his desk and placed the file in front of him.

“Here’s the proposal, sir. It needs your signature,” you said softly, keeping your eyes on the document and not on him.

Seungcheol picked up the pen, his gaze shifting between the file and your calm, composed demeanor. After scribbling his signature on the dotted line, he cleared his throat, an awkward tension hanging between you two.

“Is… Jeonghan doing better?” Seungcheol asked cautiously, trying to keep the conversation going.

“Yes,” you replied, your voice finally holding a hint of warmth. “He’s recovering well. The doctors said he’ll be discharged tomorrow.”

Seungcheol nodded, a small wave of relief washing over him. “That’s good to hear. I’m glad he’s getting better. If you need more time off, just let me know. I know you’ve been the one taking care of him.”

You shook your head gently. “No, thank you. There’s already an assigned nurse for him. I’ll be back to work as usual.”

The air between you two was thick with unspoken words and awkwardness. Seungcheol felt the weight of everything he had said and done, of the suspicion that had once tainted every interaction he’d had with you. He knew it was his fault the dynamic between you had shifted so drastically, and now, he was fumbling, unsure of how to bridge the gap he had created.

“I—” Seungcheol hesitated, his usual poise and confidence faltering. “I know I messed up… and I don’t blame you if things don’t go back to the way they were. I just… I miss the way we used to work together, the way we used to talk.”

You blinked, taken aback by his admission. But even then, you didn’t respond with the same enthusiasm you used to. Instead, you offered him a small, understanding smile.

“Thank you for understanding, sir,” was all you said before you excused yourself and walked out of his office.

Seungcheol watched you go, the emptiness in his chest expanding. He had been wrong—terribly, embarrassingly wrong—and now he was paying the price for his foolish assumptions. He had shattered the easy camaraderie that once existed between you, and now, he was left with the cold, polite exchanges that felt more like a punishment than anything else.

You were here, right in front of him, but you felt more distant than ever.

*

You knew exactly what had been happening to you, but you tried to deny it until it finally affected you like it did today. Ms. Shin had already lectured you with words you never imagined she would use, all because of a rare moment of clumsiness that you didn’t even see coming. You had too much on your plate, and the project Mr. Choi had assigned to you was nearing its deadline. In the midst of it all, you accidentally forgot to send an anniversary message to one of your most loyal clients, and Ms. Shin had to do damage control.

“They were very offended, Y/N,” Ms. Shin snapped, her voice carrying throughout the office as she reprimanded you in front of everyone. You stood there, hands clasped in front of you, listening to her and internally cursing yourself for letting things slip, all because you couldn’t get Mr. Choi’s words out of your mind.

“I miss the way we used to work together.”

“I miss—”

“I’ll be reporting this to HR. I can’t handle this kind of negligence anymore.” Ms. Shin concluded sharply, her words reverberating through the office. A collective gasp came from your colleagues, who were too stunned to react.

Later that day, you found yourself sitting in the HR director’s office, replaying Ms. Shin’s words in your mind. You expected another round of the same scolding, but what came next blindsided you completely.

“We’ve received reports about you neglecting your responsibilities over the past three months, and unfortunately, we can’t tolerate this any longer. Please clear your desk before the workday ends,” the HR director said, his tone dismissive.

“What?” The shock was apparent on your face. No warning letter, no opportunity to explain—just an immediate termination.

“You’re firing me?” you whispered, still in disbelief.

“Effective immediately.” His tone was final, and there was no room for negotiation. You were jobless. Just like that.

You felt a scream building up inside you, a storm of emotions you didn’t know how to release. Anger, frustration, betrayal—every word they’d said felt unfair, and you were powerless to fight it. Who were you to contest it? Just another employee, replaceable, forgotten.

By the time you made it home, Jeonghan was the first to greet you, his face lighting up in surprise. “You’re home early?” he chirped, clearly not expecting you at this hour. Ever since he was discharged from the hospital, he had been staying at your place, recovering until he could get around without any help.

His smile quickly faded when he noticed the cardboard box in your hands. His expression crumpled with worry as you dropped the box onto the table with a heavy thud. “Are you… fired?” Jeonghan asked hesitantly, as if he couldn’t believe his own words.

You nodded, letting out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, they fired me. Fuck Heidos. I’m going to start my own advertising company!”

Jeonghan blinked, caught off guard by your outburst. “Alright, slow down. I appreciate the enthusiasm, but what happened?” he asked, concern lacing his tone.

You shrugged, collapsing onto the couch in exhaustion. The last thing you wanted was to relive today’s events by recounting them to your brother. You just wanted to forget.

“Does Seungcheol know about this?” Jeonghan pressed on, not noticing how drained you were. “He told me you were handling a project together. Was this his decision?”

“Do you need a marketing staff?” you deflected, throwing the question back at him, trying to steer the conversation away.

“No, I don’t. But if you’re interested, I can make some room for you.”

You shook your head immediately. The last thing you wanted was to work for your brother’s company out of pity or nepotism. It wasn’t like you hadn’t considered it before, but joining his business now would feel like a defeat.

“I told you, you could’ve joined my company from the start,” Jeonghan murmured softly, his tone far gentler than before. “The Heidos you were so proud of has finally turned its back on you, huh?”

You groaned and stood up abruptly, your heavy steps echoing through the small living room as you stormed off to your bedroom. You slammed the door behind you, cutting off whatever else Jeonghan had to say.

“Yeah, Heidos finally threw me out,” you muttered bitterly to yourself as you leaned against the door. The company you had dreamed of working for, the place you’d given your blood, sweat, and tears for over the years—had thrown you out without so much as a second thought.

You took a deep breath, but it didn’t ease the tightness in your chest. This was the company you had stayed up nights for, the one you’d gone above and beyond for every single day. You’d fought your way in, made a name for yourself, only to be discarded like you were nothing.

And all you could think about was how everything had spiraled ever since that conversation with Seungcheol. How his simple words had shaken your confidence, distracted you, and caused this downward spiral.

But the worst part?

You still cared what he thought.

You sat on the edge of your bed, staring blankly at the wall as Jeonghan's words replayed in your mind, taunting you.

Heidos finally turned its back on you.

Was that it, though? Was it really the company you were angry with? Or was there something more?

Your gaze dropped to the floor as a bitter realization crept in. Were you really interested in Heidos all along? Or was it Mr. Choi?

You closed your eyes and let out a slow breath, your thoughts drifting back to the first time you saw him in person. It was during Heidos’s anniversary gala, a grand event that showcased the company's milestones.

But there he was—Choi Seungcheol, the CEO’s son, standing on the grand stage, delivering a speech with the kind of charisma that made everyone hang on to his every word. He talked about vision, about passion, about how Heidos wasn’t just a business—it was a dream they all built together.

You remembered the way his eyes scanned the room as if acknowledging everyone’s efforts personally, his voice carrying conviction and authority. He seemed approachable yet untouchable at the same time. There was a spark in him that drew you in, like a flame you couldn’t help but be mesmerized by, even if it meant risking getting burned.

When he mentioned the value of individual contributions, you couldn’t help but imagine yourself as one of those valued employees he spoke of. That night, you had felt an overwhelming sense of pride, a hope that you, too, could be part of something bigger. Part of his vision. It made you work harder, push through every obstacle, and make a name for yourself in the company.

But what if, beneath all those aspirations, it was his approval you were really after?

Had it always been about earning a place at Heidos, or had it been about being acknowledged by him? Did your heart race because of the accomplishments, or was it because of the fleeting interactions you had with him?

You tried to shake off the thoughts, but the memories kept flooding back.

There was the time he complimented your work during a company meeting, the way he’d asked for your opinion during a discussion, and, of course, the project where you saw a different side of him—where he was more than just the stern, high-and-mighty executive everyone knew him as.

"I miss the way we used to work together."

His words echoed in your mind, laced with regret and something you couldn’t quite place. Had you let those words affect you more than they should have? Had you crossed a line somewhere between professionalism and personal admiration?

You huffed out a breath and rubbed your face with your hands. It was hard to admit, but maybe you were chasing after more than just a career.

Maybe it was a person.

“Are you really that naive?” you muttered to yourself, almost laughing at how pathetic it sounded. “You got yourself fired because you couldn’t get over a few words from Choi Seungcheol. Great job, Y/N.”

What had you been thinking? That you meant something more to him? That the way he looked at you was anything other than superficial interest? Maybe you’d been reading into things too much, letting your emotions cloud your judgment.

After all, the way he’d treated you—suspicious, distrustful, wary—it all pointed to how little he thought of you. You were a pawn in his game of protecting Jiyeon. The only reason he ever looked your way was because he thought you were a threat.

And yet… you wanted to believe there had been something more. Something genuine. But now, everything felt tainted.

Because if Heidos was no longer an option, then you’d just have to prove to yourself that you could rise even without the company’s name backing you up.

But first, you’d have to figure out a way to keep your heart in check—especially when it came to him.

“Forget it, Y/N,” you whispered to yourself, staring at your reflection in the bedroom mirror. “Forget about Choi Seungcheol. He was never part of your plan, anyway.”

*

It was his first day back in the office after a week-long business trip, and Seungcheol finally had a chance to sit down and get back into his routine. His secretary entered the room with his usual coffee, already prepared with a list of updates and meetings for the day. He rattled them off efficiently, detailing every appointment and task Seungcheol needed to be aware of.

“I want to know the update on the project Ms. Ji is handling,” Seungcheol said, glancing at the folder in front of him, half-expecting to see her familiar name.

There was a brief pause, and when his secretary responded, the answer was something Seungcheol never anticipated.

“She’s no longer part of our staff, sir.”

Seungcheol frowned, a flicker of confusion crossing his features. “What do you mean?” he asked, the question carrying a sharp edge.

“She was terminated a week ago due to negligence in fulfilling her responsibilities,” the secretary explained carefully. “The report came from Ms. Shin, and HR approved it immediately.”

Seungcheol’s scowl deepened, the irritation evident in the tightening of his jaw. He leaned back in his chair, processing the information. “Ms. Ji was managing a critical project with me,” he said, his voice lowering. “Her status required my approval. How is it possible I wasn’t informed about this?”

His secretary’s shoulders tensed, and he hesitated before replying, “I’m terribly sorry, sir. You were occupied with meetings and engagements throughout the week, and I only received the details two days ago myself.”

“Busy or not, I should have been notified immediately.” Seungcheol’s voice was dangerously calm. He glanced at the stack of files on his desk, his mind already racing to piece together what could’ve gone wrong. “I want Ms. Shin and Mr. Kim from HR in my office—now.”

“Yes, sir,” the secretary replied quickly, bowing slightly before leaving the room to carry out Seungcheol’s orders.

Seungcheol’s gaze shifted to the half-empty coffee cup, his thoughts a blur of anger and disbelief. Fired? For negligence? That didn’t add up. He knew you weren't perfect, but you were dedicated and thorough. You had handled complex projects before, and while you had your flaws, negligence was never one of them.

Something wasn’t right.

The door opened again a few minutes later, and Ms. Shin walked in, followed closely by Mr. Kim. Both looked apprehensive, likely sensing the storm brewing from the tension in the air.

“Explain,” Seungcheol said without preamble, his eyes fixed on Ms. Shin. “Why was Ms. Ji terminated, and why was I not informed?”

Ms. Shin cleared her throat, meeting his gaze with a strained smile. “Sir, there were multiple instances where Ms. Ji failed to meet her deadlines and deliverables, which impacted the team’s performance. I reported this to HR, and after reviewing her recent performance records, they decided to let her go.”

“And whose idea was it to keep this from me?” Seungcheol’s voice was low and dangerous.

“We didn’t intend to keep it from you, sir,” Mr. Kim interjected cautiously.

“The decision was made quickly due to the urgency of the situation. Given that you were away and Ms. Shin was the acting supervisor for that period, we thought it best to handle it internally until we could brief you properly.”

Seungcheol’s gaze shifted between the two of them, his displeasure evident. “I don’t appreciate decisions being made without my knowledge, especially when it concerns a project directly under my supervision. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” they both answered in unison, looking visibly uncomfortable.

“Ms. Ji was fired without a formal warning or disciplinary review?” Seungcheol continued, his voice hardening. “Was she given no chance to explain herself or defend her performance?”

Ms. Shin shifted uneasily, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face. “Sir, she had been making several mistakes, and her focus seemed to be elsewhere. It was affecting her work quality. We couldn’t afford to let it slide any longer.”

“Was this decision truly about her work, or something else?” Seungcheol pressed, his gaze narrowing. “Because from what I’ve seen, she was one of the most consistent performers on the team. I want a full report on the matter by the end of today.”

“Yes, sir,” Mr. Kim replied quickly, while Ms. Shin’s jaw tightened, her frustration barely masked.

“Dismissed,” Seungcheol said curtly, waving them out of his office.

*

You practically jumped out of your bed when you saw an incoming call from Mr. Choi flash across your phone screen. Heart racing, you scrambled to sit up straight before answering.

“I’m outside your place.”

What?

You blinked, staring at yourself in the mirror in disbelief. Just moments ago, you had been in a post-drama-marathon daze, slouched in bed after indulging in a series binge you could never afford the time for before. And now, the very man who occupied your thoughts far more than he should—the Choi Seungcheol—was calling to announce that he was outside your apartment?

“Uh—can you give me ten minutes? I’m not exactly looking presentable at the moment,” you stammered, glancing down at your wrinkled pajamas and messy hair. Your reflection screamed “I-just-woke-up” and “don’t-look-at-me”.

“I—what I mean is!” You quickly corrected yourself, flustered. “I just woke up, so I might look a little… disgusting.”

The last word fell out awkwardly, and you cringed inwardly. Of all the words you could’ve chosen…

“Take your time, Ms. Ji.” His voice was calm, almost amused. You heard the call click off, leaving you in stunned silence.

Oh God, what was he doing here?

You dashed into the bathroom, brushing your teeth and washing your face in record time. The face staring back at you looked different now—the long hair you used to style meticulously was gone, impulsively cut to shoulder length last week in a fit of frustration and exhaustion. You sighed and brushed it diligently, making it look as presentable as possible. Changing out of your pajamas into something more decent—a casual blouse and jeans—you took a deep breath before heading outside.

Stepping out of your building, you spotted his sleek car parked along the road, and there he was—slipping out of the driver’s seat, looking effortlessly handsome despite the casualness of his attire. His usual sharp suit was gone, replaced by a simple white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Even without the formal suit jacket, his presence seemed to dominate the entire street. You couldn’t help but stare for a moment, struggling to reconcile this man’s unexpected appearance outside your home with the same person you admired from afar at work.

Focus, Y/N.

“How are you?” Seungcheol asked, his gaze soft as it met yours.

You couldn’t bring yourself to answer verbally, so you just nodded stiffly, offering a tight smile. The truth was, you weren’t okay—not even close. And a part of you wanted him to understand that without you having to spell it out. But another part of you was wary, unsure how much he even knew or cared about what happened.

“I just found out about your termination this morning,” he began, and you blinked in surprise. You hadn’t expected this to be the topic of conversation. “I’m so sorry.”

You stood there, rooted in place as you stared at him. What was going on?

“I shouldn’t have let Ms. Shin handle things like that,” he continued, voice low, the frustration evident in his tone. “I knew she’s been trying to drag you down all this time. I knew you were the one carrying the department, handling all the toughest projects… That’s why I’m sorry.”

The Choi Seungcheol, the man who exuded confidence and charisma at every turn, now looked uncharacteristically small and uncertain standing before you. The apology caught you off guard. You had prepared yourself for cold professionalism, or maybe even indifference. But not this.

“I won’t force you to come back to the company,” he said gently. “That’s entirely your choice.”

He paused, looking as if he was weighing his next words carefully, then took a deep breath. “But I don’t want to lose the chance to tell you…”

Your heart thumped loudly in your chest as his eyes locked onto yours, the intensity in his gaze making it hard to breathe.

“I might like you,” he confessed, his voice almost a whisper. “Romantically.”

What?!

The world seemed to freeze around you as you stared at him, your mind racing to process his words. Seungcheol… liked you? The very same Choi Seungcheol who spent years being distant and impossible to read? He liked you, romantically? This couldn’t be real.

“I—I don’t know when it happened,” he continued, his expression a mixture of vulnerability and resolve. “But somewhere along the way, I realized I was looking forward to seeing you every day. You were more than just a competent employee; you were someone I admired. And then… I started to miss you.”

The sincerity in his words left you speechless. You glanced down, unable to meet his gaze as you tried to figure out what to say. Was it possible that you hadn’t just admired him from afar but had harbored deeper feelings too?

“I understand if this is too much for you right now,” he said softly, stepping back as if to give you space. “I just needed you to know… I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry I wasn’t there when I should’ve been. And I’m sorry that you had to go through all of this because of me.”

His voice was gentle, and for a moment, the street around you seemed to blur, leaving just the two of you standing there, suspended in this unexpected moment.

What could you possibly say? Words failed you, so you did the only thing you could—you nodded, acknowledging his apology and his confession, still unsure if you were dreaming or awake.

“Thank you… for telling me,” you managed to say quietly.

Things could never go back to the way they used to be.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Lose your temper

Summary: Only loses his temper for her.

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 805

Warnings: azzie being a protective pookie 🥹

A/n: hello hello i come bearing gifts after the tiny hiatus. might get my laptop back soon so dont you worry ill be back soon. ive mostly been focused on writing my wattpad books but though you all deserved a lil treat too so here i am 😌

also ps (edited) this was inspired by someones reddit post about having the sweetest father who threatened to hand a man by his intestines if they did not leave his wife alone and i think thats precious 🥺

HAVE FUN YALL

ENJOYYYY🥳

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Being the daughter of the spymaster, it almost made Hazel seem like some sort of elite fae that some feared while others pitied. The people that feared her, Hazel could understand the place they were coming from. But it was the other group that befuddled Hazel.

Why would they pity her? Did they think her father was an abuser of some kind?

Of course, he towered over a lot of people, and his physique made him known as a ruthless warrior. And yeah, maybe he also did have the most spectacular reputation to go with it, but it did not warrant people thinking he bullied Hazel too.

Or maybe it did, but Hazel could not bring herself to understand that part.

Azriel had always been the most gentle, calm and loving parent anyone could ever ask for. He was the furthest thing from mean. Hazel had never seen him get angry or raise his voice.

And it made Hazel wonder. What would be the situation in which Azriel raised his voice?

Hazel knew the one person Azriel loved the most was Y/n. He could act all he wanted when he wanted to irk Y/n that Hazel came first for him, but Hazel knew that if it came to it, he would sacrifice the whole world, her and then himself to please his wife.

And so when she asked her father, his answer came as no surprise.

"Dad, will I ever see you lose your temper?"

He laughed, his eyes not leaving the vegetables he stirred in the pan for lunch. "Maybe if someone bullies your mother, you just might."

Hazel smiled, nodding. She turned to look outside the window that faced their porch, looking at all the people that passed. Their house was in one of the quietest areas of Velaris, and so only sparse groups of people lingered around, mostly kids and housewives.

As she continued pondering his answer, her eyes fell on her mother returning from the market nearby. Hazel grinned, beginning to turn to her father to tease him about it, but then she looked closer at Y/n.

She looked disturbed, brows furrowed and lips pursed.

"Dad?"

Azriel hummed, glancing at Hazel.

"Does mom look worried to you?"

Hazel heard him draw closer, peering over her shoulder. "Mom?"

"Yeah, look."

Hazel glanced at Azriel, watching as his brows drew together and his jaw hardened.

"A male’s following her."

Hazel blinked, then turned to look. Sure enough, she saw a man come into view, jeering at Y/n’s back. Y/n was almost to the gate that opened into their lawn, and she kept glancing back at the man.

"He’s dead if he doesn’t leave."

Hazel would have smiled, but the seriousness in her father’s voice told her he wasn’t jesting.

The two watched as Y/n tried to shut the gate behind her, but the man’s foot wedged inside as he smirked triumphantly at Y/n.

And the presence of Azriel was gone from behind Hazel.

The door opened, and Hazel turned in time to see Azriel practically fly out the door, Truthteller clutched in his hand.

Oh, someone’s dying today.

"Back off!" Hazel hurried over to the door to peer out at the scene, eyes wide as her father called out.

The man’s face crumpled in fear, and he took a step back from Y/n, who turned to look at her husband. If Hazel had to be honest, it was quite funny watching one of the most feared males in all of prythian stand in front of his house with a red shirt and a stained apron on, threatening a male in broad daylight without a care.

"I swear to the mother if I see you ever again, you are going to be buried before you can even blink." Azriel growled, brandishing his dagger.

"For-forgive me, sir. I did not know she was yours-"

"And that should not matter. Don’t let me catch you harassing another female again, or-"

But that man was gone.

Azriel turned to Y/n, smiling. "Are you alright?"

Y/n grinned at him. "I am."

Azriel effortlessly grabbed the bags from his wife’s hands and shifted them to one of his, then wrapped the other one around her waist.

"Did he do something?"

Y/n shook her head, laughing. "You almost killed him before he could."

Azriel grinned, smug. "Glad to hear that."

He led his wife inside the house, casting a searching look outside before closing the door. Y/n shot Hazel an exasperated smile behind his back, making her giggle.

Hazel had always wished to have a love like her parents, but each day, she wondered if she would rather stay by herself.

Because there was no way there was someone out there who loved as Azriel loved Y/n.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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[pinksilkribbons]

YANDERE! WEREWOLF: REESE

CW/TW: f!reader, werewolves (duh), some minor violence, breaking and entering, kidnapping, (slight) fear kink, breeding/impreg kink, scent kink, one dub-con ass slap, slight nsfw, not full smut, reese is just a pervert idk yall

this isn’t proof read and is kinda rushed don’t get on my ass if it sucks yall 😭 but yes this blog IS monster fucker friendly :)

Yandere!Werewolf whose pack stays deep in the woods.

Yandere!Werewolf who is expected to be the next leader of the pack once he finds a suitable mate.

Yandere!Werewolf who constantly gets in trouble with the elders.

“Reese you know better than to wander off! What if an outsider spotted you, huh?”

“It’s about time you take on a mate, don’t you think? You know you can’t take the throne until you find someone!”

Yandere!Werewolf who thinks all the pack elders are dramatic. He’s an alpha for fucks sake! The strongest there is. Only second to the pack leader himself.

So what if he wants to go beyond the woods sometimes? He can do as he pleases! As for a mate..he’ll get one when he sees fit!

Yandere!Werewolf who went out one night while everyone else was asleep. He was bored and restless.

Just as he was heading near the end of the woods he finds a small cottage that he knows hasn’t always been there.

It was real small, though. Way too small for any werewolf.

‘It can’t be…’

One peek won’t hurt right? He’s just gotta check and make sure it isn’t another werewolf. Gotta protect the pack after all!

With a cautious hand he slowly creaks open the bedroom window. Unfortunately, his long claws created a horrible screeching noise against the glass, definitely alerting the human- er, lone werewolf!

Alerting the lone werewolf of his presence.

Yandere!Werewolf who rushes inside in a panic. If he’s already given himself away it’s better to just hurry up and confirm his curiosity. Then, he’s going back home!

A part of him feels nervous. If it is a lone werewolf he shouldn’t have any trouble fighting them off. A human, though?

He’s heard plenty of horror stories. Especially of the humans who they call hunters. That entire species is the only reason why his pack must conceal their existence in the first place.

He hated to admit it, but the idea of encountering a hunter made his stomach churn.

But, even harder to admit, it made another part of him feel warm. The kind of warmness that made his knot flare up and sent him into an early rut.

“Hello? …Is anyone there?”

Reese felt his ear twitch at the soft, feminine voice. Her voice was smooth and wrapped around his body like a blanket.

He steps towards the voice.

“Please! Who’s there? Show yourself!”

The voice becomes more rushed. More panicked. More scared. Fuck, human girls sure are cute.

“Last chance! Or i’ll shoot you! I swear to god!!”

He’s getting closer. She’s right behind this door, in the bathroom. His hand snaps towards the knob, twisting it with a rush and-

BANG!

A sharp pain crushes his body, sending his body into an instant rage. A smoking hole leads straight through the door and right to his shoulder. Reese turns off his brain for a moment and lets his alpha take control instead.

He rips open the door with an animalistic growl, bits of wood flying everywhere. His eyes dart left and right before finally spotting the human, crouched down and shaking in fear.

She sports a long white dress that reaches her ankles. One that reminds him of maternity wear the women in his pack use during mating season.

His inner alpha chants at him to move.

To pounce at her and claim her for himself. Give her his seed, make her his mate, and give her plenty of pups that they could care for together.

The human smells real nice anyway. Definitely fertile. He doesn’t have a mate yet so…would it be so wrong?

Loud sobs bring him back to his senses. “Please mister, I ain’t do nothing to you!” She sinks further into herself if even possible.

The woman holds a small pistol close to her chest. He’s only encountered human weapons a few times and he’s not familiar with that one. That’s definitely what caused the damage to his shoulder though.

Reese is unsure about what to do. This whole thing went way different than he expected. The original plan was to just sneak inside, look at the human for a bit, then leave.

Now he has a hard dick and a bleeding shoulder. His pack would be in his ass if he came back injured with no head to show for it. Thats like admitting he was defeated by someone else.

Definitely not an option. Maybe he should kill her then?

Take her back home and give her your knot. The elders keep bothering you about finding a mate anyway. Who better to keep the pack safe from humans than a human herself?

“Kill two birds with one stone, right?” Mating the human seemed like the best way to get out of this with no consequences. The entire pack would be real jealous to find out he’s mated a hunter. Plus, she could provide extra protecting with her human weapon.

Reese approached the girl and crouched down to her height. His body easily towered over her, something his alpha really liked.

She’s real small. Smells so fertile. Fuck it, what’s the worst that could happen? Let’s take her home.

He smiled mischievously, sharp teeth sending a chill down your spine. He’s made his decision. “Alright, mate. You can quit crying. I won’t kill ya.”

You sniffled while slowly resting down the pistol. You’re out of bullets and this ..thing clearly isn’t any match for you. A part of you wonders if this is the werewolves your father constantly warned you about.

Werewolves ain’t real though. You a lot of things, but you ain’t dumb. Same way you ain’t dumb enough to believe this intruder isn’t here to kill you. He looked like he was gonna rip your head off just seconds ago.

“Just make it quick please,” You beg, fighting off more tears. Your daddy was right when he said nothing good comes out of living in these woods.

“You got it, baby! I’ll get us back home in no time.”

Reese grabs your frail body with ease, delivering a harsh smack to your ass. He chuckles lowly at the jiggle of skin against his hands.

All the while you’re thrashing against him and begging him to let you go. It actually surprised him to see you still resisting. Youre the one who told him to hurry up and get home!

You sure are confusing. No matter though. He’ll understand humans the longer he’s with you.

Cause one things for sure: you won’t be leaving anytime soon.

Yandere!Werewolf who wakes up the whole pack to alert them of his find. They all snarl angrily at the “hunter”, baring their claws aggressively.

Yandere!Werewolf who has to yell at everyone to back off. When he demands respect for his mate it goes silent. Everyone begins whispering, clearly surprised at his reveal.

Yandere!Werewolf that feels pride swell in his heart as each member bows down in respect. His mate looks shocked more than anything.

Yandere!Werewolf who laughs when you begin freaking out, not wrapping your mind behind the existence of werewolves.

“You’re a hunter, baby. I’m sure you know at least a little about our kind.”

Yandere!Werewolf who laughs even harder when you insist you aren’t a hunter. Only kind of humans that can hurt werewolves are hunters. You’re just a little scared right now!

Now quit lying to him before he gets mad.

Yandere!Werewolf who gets the approval of the current leader without even trying. It’s official now.

You will bear his pups, lead the pack by his side, and stay with him until he ceases to exist. How romantic.

“Hey. I forgot to ask. What’s your name, mate?”

Well, as romantic as Reese can get, anyway.

[heart4caitlin]

THE PERFECT GIRL / paige bueckers

ghostface!paige x fem!reader headcanons!!

cw: blood mention, killing mention, manipulative paige, overstim, lowkey whiney but dom paige, basically no dialogue yay!!

yall met either in elementary or middle school. some random girl was being rude to you and of course paige wanted to stand up for you. and ever since the yall have been best friends

definitely the type to quiet literally go insane once boys or girls start to look at you with interest. she is declining all their offers to you and you're always get upset about it, and she'll always reassure you, "oh come on.. you know i know what's best, y/n."

when you got your first girlfriend, she was livid. always looking at her a certain way, always had something smart to say back to her, anytime you would bring her up she would say something mean about her. she was so much better than your girlfriend so why weren't you dating her?

and when one week your girlfriend just disappeared and you were heartbroken, who was there for you? paige of course. she stayed at your house 24/7 comforting you. would go pick up whatever you wanted and made sure you were alright. while she's holding you in bed she can't help but think back to your girlfriends screams as she tortured her, her crying and begging to be let go because why would y/n's best friend hurt her? anyways

and another week later when her body was found, you were disgusted. who in their right mind would brutally kill someone like that? and paige was there for every moment of it. still holding you while you cried over that worthless girl.

for the rest of high school you never had another girlfriend, too scared of losing that one as well. paige didn't mind at all, maybe just a little bit because she wanted to kill them but....

she was never scared to stand up for you either, especially at parties when guys just would not catch the fucking hint to back off of what's hers. his body was also found two days later, multiple stab wounds covering his body.

when it was time for the both of you to graduate, she followed you to uconn. making sure that both of you could be roommates!! and you were so happy to have your best friend with you there. only problem was her jealous issues got way worse.

since you were an adult now, you were going out more with friends, dressing up in dresses what fit you so well that paige couldn't help but stay home that night and just think of you while touching herself, whining out your name while she cums

goes right back to being normal with you afterwards!! always the one to pick you up while youre drunk out of your mind. making sure you're buckled up in the car, has a cover in the car to cover you up with, if you're hungry she'll always stop somewhere for you

but you start to get real concerned when anyone who asks you out just starts showing up dead? you don't think it's paige at all, you don't catch onto it at first

you go to every single one of her basketball games, being the loudest in the crowd. she's always looking over to you to make sure you're watching her. her favorite is after the game and you run up to her in the court. her wrapping her arms around you, both of you laughing and smiling. she can't help herself but lean down and press her lips to yours, the both of you surprised

after that game she takes you on so many dates, wanting you to see how well she can treat you. she's buying you any and everything you have ever wanted

she hasn't killed anyone in a while, stopped for a couple months once the two of you started dating

that changes once you became friends with a certain group of people. them influencing you to do whatever, one of them being extremely touchy and flirty with you. but you don't pay attention to them, you're head over heels for paige you don't even realize they are flirting with you

andddd they show up dead as well... this murder being the worse one they've seen so far. you don't think anything of it until you you're cleaning yalls dorm/apartment and you find a bag in the room. opening it you see a ghostface mask and knives which are covered in blood

you'd been frozen for over a minute now, not even realizing the paige was walked into the room. you're full of every emotion, you don't know whether to be disgusted, angry, or what

argument breaks out between the two of you, you're yelling at her and accusing her of killing all of your friends. argument ends with paige pushing you against the wall and pressing her mouth against yours, can't help herself but grind herself against you

she's just so whiney while kissing you and trying to speak to you, telling lies about "nonono, i would never do that, you have to believe me, baby.."

ends up with her hands in your shorts, thrusting her fingers deep inside you as you whine for more. you're gone so fast once her thumb finds your clit, rubbing quick circles against it. she can't help but tease you on how "you're such a slut, cumming on my hands knowing that I killed all your friends? your ex girlfriend? just know i'm better than them, hm?"

her movement doesn't stop either as you whine, staring up at her with tears streaming down your face, from the pleasure? or from knowing she killed all those people? you have no idea

her thumb stays rubbing against your clit that you can't help but cum again and again because of her. after your third orgasm she slaps your cunt just slightly before pulling her hand out of your messy shorts.

"can give me more, can't you? waited so long to get you. had to watch people try so hard for you just for them to end up bleeding to death because of me," she's rambling now as she pulls your shorts down, your cum sticking all over your thighs which makes her laugh. "soaking wet as i'm talking about killing them? 's pathetic, y/n." just muttering to herself like she can't stop

forcing you onto the bed as she falls between your thighs, her tongue pushing deep inside you as you cry and try to pull away from the pleasure. she's pulling you back every time, her arms holding you down as you moan for her to stop and slow down. you feel terrible knowing that you're about to cum on her mouth knowing that she killed all those people.. but you just can't help it, she's so hot and just so good at eating you out

eventually you're begging for her cock, random babbles just coming from you as you plead her for more and how "i won't tell anyone, paige!! p-please just want y-you so bad," you're hiccuping and slurring your words slightly from how intense you're orgasms feel

lowkey got carried away with this but i also imagine you either joining her or leaving her... of course joining her would make her extremely happy but leaving?? she's tracking you down and she will find you

taglist for those who commented on the post!! @cosmopretty @martinsgirl @elliecoochieeater @melpthatsme @sweetluna20 @st4rrzynight !!!

[vultbae]

hot boy delivery ✩

college!art donaldson x female reader

↳ summary: Tashi's handsome alleged boyfriend knocks on your door and asks for her since she's your roommate. But she's not there, so you'll borrow him for tonight.

↳ warnings: smut (minors dni), tipsy sex, mentions of cheating but isn't, porn with plot, mean!reader at the beginning.

↳ notes: yall know the drill english is not my first language! so sorry if anything doesn’t make sense

word count: 5.7k

Stanford isn't what you would call a party school; there isn't an endless rage circuit or binge drinking regarding students –or at least the ones you know. So when you decided to enroll in college, you knew any unpleasant symptoms like headaches or fatigue would be caused by academic all-nighters and no hangovers as you believed years ago. It was a deal-breaker, but it was Stanford at the end of the day.

Your parents had enough funds to bring to the table independence privileges most college students don't have, for example, living off-campus."¿Why would I decline this unusual offer?" you thought at the time, giving in to the advantageous idea of complete autonomy and no supervision—you had seen places around the Palo Alto area, cozier and more stylish than any archaic-looking dorm room Stanford had to offer for a few thousand dollars a year —six to seven, to be exact.

Somehow, you had ended up on the shithole you had been attempting to dodge for so long. Your best friend, Diana, had gaslighted you into believing that coexisting in the same place with other young people is one of those stimulating aspects of attending college. Heck, rowdy dorm parties, popping Plan B's, snorting coke from someone's fake boobs!

Bullshit. Diana had gotten into Stanford, too, and all of your thrilling anticipations of rooming with her vanished when she had to rescind her offer due to the scarcity of financial aid. She ended up committing to Virginia State University. At the other fucking end of the United States.

You had promised Diana to go above and beyond to fulfill those wild ideas about college. Guess what? Now, you were forced to live in a rusty dorm without your extravagant Palo Alto apartment, your best friend, and rooming with a weirdo.

And, of course, you still hadn't snorted coke out of anyone's fake boobs.

"Oh my god," you breathe out with a sigh of annoyance. You let the back of your head fall over the headboard of your bed as your hands reach up to rub your tired-looking eyes; your laptop is lying on your lap, screening the article you have to read for some core course. It's almost seven o'clock, and you are about to surrender and take a twelve-hour nap. 

You can't, though. Your eyes roam around and descend on your roommate's side: empty, noiseless, as if there wasn't someone there two hours ago. The apathy in your facial expression is prominent as you notice the cluttered desk, bed blankets hanging off, and wrinkled clothes over the floor. "How disgusting," you think, shaking your head and facing your laptop again, pushing it off your legs this time.

Your roommate was indeed something else. After swallowing against your will the miserable fact that you wouldn't room with Diana, your parents had already paid for Stanford on-campus housing, and it is what it is. A month before moving to California, you had seen the name of your designated roommate for the freshman year, Tashi Duncan.

You are not confident about the sort of woman Tashi is. Although you had been cordial and accommodating with her —even though you didn't want a roommate, she is not what you would call a friend. Tashi is a tennis player, apparently a very talented one, since many people around campus ridiculously fangirl over her  —but you don't know if it's because of her model-like physical complexion or her sports talent. Well, it's not like you care. But despite sharing a dorm room, Tashi's interactions with you are minimal and curt, and conversations with her are typically one-sided. She rises early and evaporates for the rest of the day.

Doubtful, you pick up your Nokia from the nightstand and quickly text her, "Wya?" to feel responsible –she has never done it, though. Since you live in an on-campus residence, entry isn't monitored until eight p.m. during the week, and you already know she won't arrive by that time. She probably won't arrive at all.

The anxious chewing on the bottom of your lip ceases when your phone vibrates with the "I'm staying at Art's x" message popping on the screen. A mix of relief, bliss, and sovereignty surges from your body's core. You don't know who Art is, but you've heard Tashi talk about him a couple of times, so you assume he is her boyfriend, sneaky link, or whatever freaky shit she would be up to. You briefly contemplate the text, instantly replying, "take care :)" and waiting for her not to respond.

You sit there, stunned for a hot minute, considering the countless activities you could do now that you are —and will remain—all alone. Mild daylight peers through the opened curtains, although it's getting dark. Your head slightly turns to the two-lite slider window between both beds, revealing the distinctive greens of the trees that reach your view—a typical Stanford campus panorama. 

The bedroom is ample; the floor is covered with cheap deep blue carpeting, and the walls have been sealed with a matte layer of pearl white. Your mural side is preciously decorated: polaroids, stickers, and decorative leds shimmering in a warm yellow tone adequate for winter, while Tashi's side is... three posters: two from random tennis players and a large Spider-man one. "What are we, ten-year-olds?" you murmur, eyes rolling back, exasperated as you sit in the sight of the oversized picture.

You really can't get what is so amusing about Tashi.

Your phone rings suddenly, and you sense your muscles twitch at the unexpected ringtone clashing against the lifeless four walls. A big "Diana" is written in black letters, blaring at you, which is a good sign of an enjoyable night. With no second thoughts, you pick up.

 "¡Hey girl!" are the first words you hear from your best friend. 

You haven't seen her since the summer break –four months ago–and time hasn't been your ally in terms of missing your friends. Diana and you always intended to attend college together; nevertheless, you can't predict anything about college. Now, she resided in Virginia, while you did in California. 

"I've missed you so fucking much," you grin against the phone, talking with enthusiasm. You stand up to walk to the shared kitchen, "how's everything been in Virginia?"

Diana scoffs at your question. "Do you for real think I called you to talk about boring-ass Virginia?" she mockingly complains, sarcasm dripping out of her voice. "The real question is, how's everything been in Cali?" she adds, half screaming the last two words.

Your humorous facial expression morphs into a disgraceful one. "Well, mediocre if you take out the fact I live in this dorm. Otherwise, pretty shit."

"At least it's a Stanford dorm," Diana points out, giggling.

"Well, you are partly right," you answer, now supporting your arms over the kitchen table, "I just wish it was my dorm at least and not Tashi's, you know."

"Right, your roommate; what's the deal with her?" she asks.

¿What's your deal with her? If this were a frankness competition, you'd undoubtedly roast her without needing to lie. Sharing an apartment with an entitled asshole who thinks she owns the place makes it challenging.

"She's not my type," you let out, sighing. "I've been trying to talk to her for God knows how long, and she doesn't give a shit," you pause to breathe through your nose, trying to keep your cool. "Like, I can't understand. Do you know how many people would love to room with me?"

Diana's gasp nearly pierces your eardrum, "She's such a bitch!"

"Yes! She is," you interrupt her, squeaking out your words. "Also, she brings dudes or the same dude, I don't know, like at least twice a week. She doesn't even care if I'm sleeping; what if I throw water at them next time?" you inquire decisively, not caring if your words sound nonsensical.

"You do you, girl," your friend says, slightly chuckling, "I assume she is not there now, isn't she?" 

You hum. "She isn't. She is at some dude's place. So that means I have the dorm for myself."

"Don't you care if she is safe or something?" Diana queries, almost instantly biting back a groan in response to your silence. "Yes, I know she's an asshole, but at least you should know. Some guys nowadays are creeps."

"I do, I do..." you hastily assure, your voice tone appeasing your friend's worries. "I do know the guy's name is something like Art, and I could find out his last name if I scroll through our chat. I'm pretty sure it's her current boyfriend. I've heard her talk about him."

"My God, that girl has some real action!" she hollers; a burst of mocking laughter spills out of her lips. "What about you, though? I miss hearing hookup stories from your side. Don't waste your time; Stanford has hot ass guys!"

And she was right. The amount of handsome guys around campus was not minor.

"You know what?" you say, pointing at the air as if you were talking to Diana in person, "I'm not even going to reply to that comment. I've been so focused on-"

Your words are cut off by urgent, loud knocks coming from the main door, "The fuck?" you think. Your jaw clenches but abruptly loosens as you realize Tashi can't be here after her presumptive schedule; you don't expect anyone.

And also, there's a rainstorm outside. 

"Was that knocking on the door?" Diana asks, and your attention goes back to the call. You hum in response.

"Yeah, and I'm not expecting anyone." you reaffirm while your hand reaches out to your little notebook, where you keep all the emergency numbers. You sigh out a frustrated "fuck" when you realize you don't have the number of the security guard downstairs. "I should check through the peephole; it's probably a dumbass mistake anyway," you add, trying to sound unbothered.

¿Who the fuck would sneak into an all-student residence? For what, to steal? You haven't bought groceries for two weeks. It would be a shitty investment of skill.

And obviously, you curse yourself under your breath for being such an exaggerated bitch. But, seriously, who would visit you?  Not even the wildest of your friends would wander across campus at night with this weather.

"Call me when you do it. I have to do some homework now," Diana demands, and you are snappy to obey and hang up the phone. 

You stay still, eyes stuck on the main white door. A minute passes with absolute silence encircling you until you hear the identical frantic knocking again. Same tempo, everything.

"Goddamn, relax," you murmur to yourself.

 It takes a couple of steps forward for you to approach the door and a single step to the front to see through the small peephole.

Your eyes wince slightly at the sight of a boy you've never seen in your life standing outside. You even feel the need to comically scratch your head as you notice a short-arm cast dressing up his right arm; how bizarre. "¿Is this mother-fucker trying to rob me?" you talk to yourself, making sure he doesn't hear you. Obviously, he'd predict any regular person to open the door without a doubt –"Poor boy, he's wearing a cast."

"He's too hot to be a thief," your mind suggests. And yes, he is. If you are one hundred percent honest, he seems like he would study at Stanford. He looks kind of familiar, even. You can't clearly analyze his features due to the lack of lighting in the hallway, but when his head tilts to the side, a sharp shadow forms under his jawline, and his blonde curls bounce along with his moves. 

You text Diana again. "hot boy at my door x"

Although suspicion is gnawing at the back of your mind, you open the door. With a gentle twist of your wrist, you turn the knob clockwise and cautiously swing the door inward. The hinges creak softly, and the chilly air from the hallway rushes in, sending a shiver down your spine.

Your eyes narrow in recognition —and confusion—for a beat. A lightbulb suddenly flickers on in your mind.

"Hey..." the guy in front of you greets you softly and politely, his voice barely above a whisper.

You have seen his face around, but you can hardly remember his last name—Dawson, Davidson? Something like that.

"...Is Tashi around?" he asks, his voice carrying a note of desperation.

Your gaze rakes down his figure. He's wearing a Cardinal performance polo from Stanford and thin black polyester shorts, both soaked—presumably from the storm roaring outside. His chest rapidly rises and falls with each breath, and as if by carnal instinct, your eyes delineate the muscles of his abdomen tightening; the outline of his six-pack is visible through the soaking polo clinging to his torso. Tiny water beads accumulate along the strands of his blonde hair, glistening, growing heavier, and descending onto your doormat with soft plops.

He's hot as fuck, you think. Straight out of one of those cliché Teen People magazine covers. But it's not only his physique. Something about how he stands there, dripping wet, vulnerability mingling with his athletic build, piques your interest. It's sort of contradictory and sexy as fuck.

Your eyes drift down to your own outfit—pajama shorts and a crop top. It's not too practical, considering the chilliness from the residence hallway drives your nipples to react against the thin material of the top. His gaze falters for a second, lowering to your bare midriff, and you catch the way his cheeks redden. You hear how he chokes with his saliva.

But it’s bizarre, too. His functional—left—hand is grasping a large Smirnoff Ice bottle by its neck. Your features smooth out at the sight of the clear glass bottle containing one of your favorite low-alcohol cocktails.

It's a raw lure, just like the owner of the bottle.

But it's still bizarre. Because why is this hot-ass guy holding a delicious-ass drink standing outside of your dorm?

You pull your gaze away from the Smirnoff bottle. "Aren't you supposed to be hiding the booze?" you blurt out, raising a finger to point at the bottle.

Maybe your tone was too sardonic, or it was the uncaring disregard of the Tashi question because the blonde guy's face reddens in a deep shade of crimson —again—spreading rapidly from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. Aw, he's embarrassed. His eyesight shifts to the bottle, and he acts as if the bottle magically spawned in his left hand.

But you don't wanna spook the doll away.

You audibly clear your throat, trying to rectify your rudeness. "And no, Tashi's not here," you add, attempting to depict kindness and capture his attention again.

He stays silent. As the rosy hue of his cheeks vanishes, you can sense he's building up the courage to keep interrogating you. "Do you know where she is?" he timidly asks, gliding the bottle under his left arm as if trying to hide it now that his plans are ruined.

The guy's smoking hot but fricking awkward. It doesn't make sense. He's six feet tall, lean, handsome, and muscular; why is he acting all timid? He's standing past your doorframe, practically asking for clearance to trade words with you. It doesn't make sense.

"Yeah, she's staying with this Art guy. Maybe you know him," you say, gaze unconsciously disembarking again on the Smirnoff bottle.

The guy's eyebrows furrow and his blue eyes dart back and forth as if digging for an answer hidden in your dorm. His facial expression gradually shifts from puzzlement to realization and then to frustration.

"Son of a bitch..." he mutters under his breath, his voice laced with malice.

You raise an eyebrow, feigning amazement. "Sorry?"

It makes you wanna chuckle at the sudden, humorous switch in his expression.

He inhales sharply, his blue eyes scintillating with sadness and something deeper, perhaps a sense of betrayal? You don't know. "Are you sure Tashi's not here?" he questions again, the tone of his voice hardening. "I'm Art."

The prior flickering lightbulb turns into one illuminating your memory's dim corners. His facial features now have a name: Art Donaldson, another celebrated first-year tennis player. There aren't many Art's around, so the first time you heard his name —even before Tashi— falling out from one of your closest friends' lips on campus, you should've known it was him.

So if he’s Art, that means Tashi lied.

Shit. Tashi's cheating on this guy.

You hope he doesn't notice because you know a flicker of darkness is dancing across your eyes as the seed of an idea takes root in your mind.

A smirk curls your lips as you relish the scrumptious irony. "Oh, you're Art? The one Tashi talks about all the time?" you say, voice dribbling with mockery.

He doesn't respond; he just looks at you with those piercing blue eyes. But then he speaks, "Yeah, I guess..."

You seize the moment, reaching out and stealing the bottle of Smirnoff from beneath his arm. "Well, I guess I'll take this," you say, twisting the cap open and taking a long sip. "You won't need it, right?."

You know exactly what chord you want to strike.

Art's jaw tightens, his face a mix of irritation and helplessness, but he doesn't oppose. You can see his struggle and even sense how his mind races to make sense of the situation. He was expecting Tashi, who was not his girlfriend yet, but he had arranged this to get to know her better. Instead, he's faced with you—an unexpectedly attractive challenge.

And, of course, he wanted it. There was the initial shock at finding you instead of Tashi, but an undeniable attraction stirred something profound within him —a foreign sensation he hadn't felt before. And he's by no means a virgin or a "lame-ass," as Patrick would call him from time to time. Art knows how to have fun. But he's used to the upstarting idea that women must be salivating over merely hearing his name. That's why he obsessed over Tashi Duncan; she is dominant.

But of course, fucking Patrick had to take her tonight.

You lower the bottle, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. "Or maybe you shouldn't go back to the rain," you say with a shrug, "you could come inside in case Tashi comes back, and I'd think about sharing the Smirnoff with you."

He hesitates.

You step aside, holding the door open wider. "You don't wanna go back to the rain, don't you?" you add with a mischievous grin.

For a heartbeat, he stands there, his resolve wavering. Then, with a resigned sigh, he steps forward, crossing the threshold into your college dorm like a lost puppy.

You close the door behind him, drawn to let out a scream when he's not looking after how things were interestingly evolving. The room grows warmer for Art and you, the atmosphere thick with tension and unspoken intentions from both sides. You take another sip of the Smirnoff, savoring the lemony taste. 

"Make yourself comfortable," you express, gesturing to the modest common area where the kitchen is. Art follows your lead, his movements stiff from the water and his arm cast.

He's about to push back the strap of his black Adidas duffel bag to roll it down his right arm —cause he was holding THAT and the Smirnoff bottle, when he turns to you and, contemplating his words, he speaks, "Do you think I can use your shower?"

"You would do it anyways if Tashi was here instead of me, so..."

Art takes that as a yes.

-

The bottle of Smirnoff sits nearly empty on the wooden night table beside your bed. Although you had explained earlier to Art that Smirnoff ice was "inoffensive alcohol," it hadn't failed to cultivate an effect of tipsiness in both of your warm bodies. Art's initial awkwardness had been disbanded by the bitterness of the alcohol coursing through his veins. And your mean facade had shifted into a more loquacious, sarcastic, and bold one.

The common area had grown colder. In one instance of exorbitant bravery, you offered to move to your room— Art had said yes way too fast. The space was cozier and filled with your personal touches.

Art is sitting on your bed, the back of his head supported against the wall, while you lie on your stomach beside him, propped up on your elbows, attentively hearing as he converses about another obscene anecdote of his. The dim yellow lighting from the led lights from your side of the wall casts a soft glow over both of you, making you equally horny and exhausted —the calming sound of the rainstorm outside didn't help.

Art had changed into a grey T-shirt with "Stanford Tennis" printed across the chest. His strawberry blonde hair is nearly dry and slightly tousled...

The rich, warm sound of Art laughing fills the room and clocks you out of the trance. "...I swear, I walk in and see Tashi doing some nasty, weird thing to him. The next morning was hell for him. I couldn't believe he was into that type of shit."

"God, was she pegging him?" you giggle, covering your eyes with the palms of your hands.

Art chuckles, shaking his head. "You don't want me to get more explicit."

You pout playfully. "Don't be an asshole. Tell me." 

Art raises an eyebrow, intrigued, half-smirking. "Why are you so interested? Are you going through abstinence?"

The truth is yes but against your will. The bad thing is that you can't filter the information spilling out of your mouth whenever you drink.

"Depends. Are you gonna bully me if I say yes?" you ask, looking up at him with a teasing glint in your eyes.

The rhetorical question prompts Art to tilt his head, confused. "I'm not a playboy myself. And also..." he slightly lifts his right arm with the cast, alluding to it. "After my injury, I can't do much."

Your thoughts started tumbling over each other in a chaotic mess. You started picturing too many scenarios where Art would still be able to fuck with the arm cast on. The amount of vivid, fleeting mental scenarios internally summoning the attention you couldn't provide right now makes you feel physically ill and euphoric.

"That is not true."

He giggles again, a sound that causes your heart to flutter despite your mind warning you about potential word vomiting. "Well, I can't even jerk it off. Is that enough for you?"  

"Not really. There's plenty of stuff you can still do. Ask someone to give you a blowjob or something," You suggest, way more convinced of your comment than you should. 

Art’s natural smirk fades as he processes your sentence, his eyes squinting as if he's about to test something. He's holding back a chuckle, "That's a wild thing to say to someone you met two hours ago." 

You roll your eyes in feigned annoyance, "Don't tell me you are one of those people who think sex is taboo."

"Hey, no, I'm not." He raises his left hand in front of you, palm open and facing outward. "Asking someone to suck my dick is just gonna give me a fat restraining order."

At this point, the notion of reality has altered for you. Not much, but to the extent things that would commonly make you pause and reconsider your life choices now seemed perfectly reasonable, even hilarious. "Asking this guy I just met to fuck me? Awesome!" You think. You feel an overwhelming sense of camaraderie, a genuine tie to Art, fueled by the shared silliness of the circumstances and nasty anecdotes of this so-called Patrick. 

"Oh, please..."  You wave your hand carelessly as if waving away his absurd comment. "Who would put a restraining order over that?"

"What would you do if someone asked you to suck their dick?" 

But, before replying, you push yourself up onto your knees. The bed creaks softly as you shift, and you slide your legs out from under you, moving to sit cross-legged on the bed. 

"So?" he insists as you finish changing your position.

"Oh my god. Well, it depends on who's asking." 

Your last words hang in the air between you and Art, electrifying and charged with suggestive tension. Predisposing yourself to Art's potential lack of boldness, you let the tipsiness strip away your remaining self-respect. "If you asked me, I wouldn't say no," you add.

Your words cut through the alcohol-induced haze like a sharp blade, leaving Art momentarily sober. It's difficult for him to think properly. It feels like a thick fog full of thoughts and bitter rememberings encircles him, but you cannot see it. 

He helplessly daydreams about the scenario where this is Tashi instead of you, tossing salacious remarks at him and attending to whatever crap he chooses to say. But it isn't. He doesn't know you properly; he hasn't seen your serve or even how you hold a tennis racquet. And you haven't seen much from him either.

Patrick doesn't know about you either. His Patrick, with the captivating smile and the big-dick aura. The one that has been setting him up with women forever, as if he couldn't do it on his own. 

That's how he realizes the attraction towards you —even if purely carnal, is authentic and unpretentious. It's not polluted with anything else. You aren't flirting with him because you eventually want to mess around with Patrick. 

There's bone-deep curiousness humming through Art's veins, but he won't fuck up the first time a gorgeous girl wants to fuck him.

"Then I guess I should ask you," Art states, attempting to maintain his voice steady as his heart plummets.

You lean in closer, your faces now inches apart. The dim glow of the led lights casts a golden hue over your skin, making the moment feel even more surreal for Art. “Good, 'cause I have wanted to do you since you knocked on my door." 

The familiar aching warmth starts to pool at the bottom of your abdomen as Art's lips attack yours, parting them with easiness; you kiss him fiercely, savoring a mixture of Smirnoff Ice and spearmint. Art kisses you like he's starved of it; he slips his tongue inside like he has been patiently deferring his devilish invasive thoughts. He is, damn, a wonderful kisser. Flawlessly proportional: immodest, licking into your mouth, so sexually arousing, at the same time so tender, holding you close with such courtesy it makes you want to scream.

With the strength of his left hand, he draws your body closer to his, deepening his mouth as much as possible on yours. The contact makes your stomach jolt, tardily falling into account you are blending Art's masculine scent with yours. Art's upper-body muscles harden at the ecstasy, and the subtle contour of the veins on his arm arises on his skin, popping out as he possessively grasps your waist.

Between wet kisses, his mouth quakes as he lets out a hushed chuckle, "Wait, is it true... what you said?" he mutters into your mouth and raises your chin, taking a pair of hot seconds to look at you straight in the eye.

You relish the sensation of his fingers racing down your waist and descending on your hips, gently squeezing; your hands are holding onto the nape of his neck, caressing his skin. You kiss him again and roll his bottom lip between your teeth, "I've never wanted to fuck anyone so bad," you husk into his ear, words purring as you teasingly lick his ear lobe, lowering the wet kisses until you end up licking down his throat. You trail soft, open-mouthed kisses down his skin; your nails scratch lightly over his back, folding at the sensation of his warmness capturing yours.

Art swears he's about to pass out.

You swing one leg over his lap, carefully straddling him. Art wastes no time, lining his hips with yours, pressing and grinding, compelling your body to feel small in his presence; the mean grip of his hand drops to the end of your back, slowly running down your sides to cup your ass over your pajama shorts, slowly plunging his fingers on your skin. Quick, discreet moans slip out of your mouth, each one driving Art to his edge. The hardness of his cock pushes against your pussy, making you gasp between kisses. 

Your cheeks prick with heat as you hear a clap sound, a slap against someone's skin: your skin. Art spanked your ass rough, and you could anticipate the red handprint remaining in your butt for a couple of hours. His hand smacks again, grasping the over-sensitive plush of your ass at the end, making your muscle throb, "Art!" you whimper, squirming.

"Don't be too loud," he whispers against your neck, demanding.

Art's lips trail down your jawline; his breath catches in his throat every time the aroma of you transits to his chest. You tilt your head back to grant him better access, and your vision goes fuzzy as you discern Art's teeth sucking and biting on your neck, "...d-don't mark my neck," you add between whimpers, piercing his eardrum in the most sensual way imaginable.

"Can I mark this, then?" he snaps back, his right-hand cupping one of your tits over the material. The lustfulness creeping through your body evolves into dizziness, changing how your heart palpitates.

You overtake him and take your crop top swiftly without wanting to see him making extra effort. You audibly gasp when he determines to bury his face between your tits, his thumb and pointing finger skillfully rubbing and then rolling your nipples between his fingertips. 

You are so fucking overwhelmed. Art realizes, and with a wicked smirk plastered on his face, he gives a low coo, "You are so sensitive-"

"Shut the fuck up," you cuss softly, thrusting your chest out, slightly arching your back at the filling sensation. A slimy coverage of saliva grows over your left nipple; Art's mouth works over your bud, flicking with his tongue, making you impossibly wet, "Art, please, I need-"

"Need what?" he glances up at you, neglecting your nipples coated in spit, the cool breeze clashing against your skin and prickling your dermis with goosebumps. 

You pant under your breath as his fingers play with the waistband of your shorts. You grab his hand and put it away, "I'll take care of you."

Your gaze descends to admire the outline of his cock, pushing against the thin fabric of his shorts.  "Let me taste you," you beg, tracing a finger down his chest and reaching the waistband of his shorts.

"Pretty convenient since I can't do much, huh?" Art suppresses a laugh. 

You don't say much. You come off his lap to drag him to the end of the bed, feet touching the carpeted ground. As you sink lower, you unconsciously smile at the things you will tell Diana tomorrow. 

You squat down on your feet, your hands positioned on Art's thighs, supporting your body in case you lose balance. You palm his clothed dick, rubbing your fingertips against the slim layer of clothing, anticipating how much you'll be able to fit in your mouth; you shoot Art an incredulous look, enjoying his heavy-lidded, lustful grimace. 

Your fingers hook around the waistband of those goddamn shorts, sliding them down, along with his underwear. In one fluid motion, his cock springs free with his reddening, glistening tip slapping against his stomach. 

You think this is the perfect situation to overpraise him. You assume these guys love it. Tennis players with a big ego —and a big dick.

"You are so big, Donaldson," you praise, prolonging the word so seductively and not breaking eye contact with the blonde guy. You admire him, captivated by how his Adam's apple twitches; he gulps.

Your fingers wrap around his length, gripping his base, starting to stroke, gingerly moving from base to tip, stopping to rub his swollen tip and spread pre-cum along his shaft, simulating lube. His muscles tremble at the touch, yanking at your hair. You dart your tongue out, flattening it, licking his cock up and down, kitten-licking his thick tip and sweeping your lips across it, loudly slurping the shiny, gooey substance leaking from his dick. Art's torso feels deficient in oxygen as you lock eyes with him, simultaneously stroking his cock mercilessly, sucking on his head; his lungs ache for air.

You bob your head slightly, and your mouth opens wide, taking him further and increasing your pace. Your mouth is warm and wet; he can't wait to stretch other holes if you feel exceptionally good like this. 

"How does it feel?" you take a look at Art's journey, who has his head thrown back. You want him so bad to praise you back. When his head returns to its place, you meet eyes with him and give a tantalizing squeeze to his cock, eager for more reaction. His fingers jump to run through his hair, exasperated.

You don't —and can't know that Art is holding it back already. He's been holding it back since the moment you straddled him, and he could feel the warm wetness of your pussy over his throbbing dick. 

In desperation, he pushes your head, positioning your lips straight over his dick, "Please, princess," you obey and put it inside your mouth again.

He lets out a groan when his tip hits the back of your throat, making you gag. You try to relax and breathe through your nose, allowing him to hit it constantly, deep-throating his length, drooling over his cock, swallowing around him. He strains his hips forward, tugs your hair, and essentially fucks your throat without requiring you to do anything but suck and be good for him.

His breathing becomes erratic, and you feel the muscles of his legs unconsciously twitching. He's close.

When his hand on your hair pushes you up, you resist and stay there for longer, anxiously waiting for his cum to hit your throat. With a rough jerk of his hips, you finally taste his sperm filling your mouth. You swallow it.

"Shit," Art mutters, hyperventilating and staring at you with heavy-lidded eyes. "You just made me reconsider if I'm still precocious."

You laugh, shaking your head. "Or maybe I give good head?" 

After catching his breath, his eyes fall over your figure. There's something so amusing about you, and it's definitely not the remaining mix of cum and spit over the corners of your mouth.

It's just you.

The rain continues to fall outside, a steady rhythm that matches the pulse of his heartbeat. It wasn't the post-nut clarity that made him philosophical, but he can genuinely feel that the only thing that matters is how amazing he has felt around you.

Art breaks the silence. "Let me take you out tomorrow night." 

-

[muwapsturniolo]

𝐆𝐞𝐭 𝐍𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐝, 𝐈 𝐆𝐨𝐭 𝐀 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐧 🧊 Chris Sturniolo

"Just relax, you're only making yourself hotter."

✘ nsfw ahead. nipple play, nipple orgasm, ice/temperature play, oral (f and m receiving), p in v....with ice (DON'T DO THIS SHIT UNLESS YOU PUT A CONDOM AROUND THE ICE! IF YOU DO THIS AND GET HURT, ION KNOW WHAT TO TELL YOU!!)

Sweat.

You could feel the sweat dripping down the side of your face and down the valley of your breasts, your skin feeling sticky and gross. The whole state of California was currently experiencing a heat wave, the temperature reaching 115 degrees - and it was just your luck that the triplet's AC unit went out.

You four were currently on the couches, half-dressed, attempting to stay cool during the scolding heat. Nick was sprawled out hogging all the ice packs, Matt was clicking away angrily on his phone as he tried to get in touch with the AC company, and Chris was laid out on the floor by your leg, claiming the hardwood floors were cool.

"This is bullshit, I hate all three of you right now. Why the fuck did I pack my shit and move to LA with yall?"

It was no secret that when the temperature would rise and the summer heat settled in, you became agitated. There was nothing about summer or the heat you enjoyed. You were always hot and sweating, you felt gross, your lace would lift, and there were too many bugs.

"Because you love me, and you're clingy." Chris's words earn him a firm kick to the back that makes him swat at your leg. "Is this how the cast of Victorious felt? " Nick mumbles as he wipes the sweat from his forehead.

"Probably worse, they were stuck in a hot-ass RV. I'm surprised they didn't die of suffocation," you mumble with your eyes closed. Suddenly, Matt jumps up from his spot on the couch, an angry scowl on his face. " Fuck this shit, the damn repair company is too busy dealing with everyone in LA! I'm going to the store and buying an AC to put in the window. Nick, let's go!" Nick gives Matt a dirty look, confused as to why he's the one being forced to go.

"Why me?"

"Because if I bring Chris, you and Y/n will just argue, and I don't want to come home to that. If I bring Chris, then Y/n will come, and respectfully, I don't want to deal with her attitude from this damn heat."

If you weren't too hot, you probably would have said something snarky in retaliation to Matt, but you knew he was right. With a sigh of annoyance, Nick stands up, both he and Matt quickly getting ready to go buy an AC.

As the door slams shut, you stand up from the couch, "M'gonna takes a cold shower until those two come back. If I have to deal with any more of this heat, I think I'm actually going to tweak out." Chris watches as you walk downstairs to his room, going to grab your towel and a change of clothes. A small clinking noise is heard, and Chris's attention is drawn to a glass of ice-cold water, the ice slowly rising to the top.

He smiles to himself as he pushes himself off the floor, his skin sticking to the wood. He snags the glass off the side table and quickly makes his way to the bedroom, a small pep in his step. He enters the bedroom and sees you standing by his nightstand, looking down at your phone. He comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. You instantly push him back, your face scrunched in annoyance, "Chris, don't start! It's too hot for you to be touching all up on me!"

Your aggravated words don't bother him, he's used to your attitude caused by the heat- after all, he's had to deal with it for years. He rolls his eyes and pulls you into him once more, his grip firm.

"Calm down baby, you're only going to make yourself hotter." He mumbles as he begins to toy with your bikini bottoms, his lips starting to leave small kisses on your shoulder. Despite his touch burning your skin, you lean into him.

"It's too hot to be having sex Chris, I'm not in the mo-Come on baby, I got a plan, you just have to get naked." You turn around so you're facing him, only for your stomach to come in contact with a cold sensation. You jump in shock and look down, seeing your cold glass of water in Chris's hand. You look up and see that boyish smirk on his face that you've always loved.

"What are you getting at Chris?"

"I just want to cool you down."

He pulls the string to your bikini, the material falling off your body as he pushes you back onto the bed. he straddles one of your legs, taking a long sip of water. Some of it drips down his chin, trailing down his chest and stopping at his happy trail. He leans down and hovers over you, his eye contact firm and steady.

Suddenly, he dips his head into your neck, your body flinching as you feel something cold and wet trailing across your skin.

Ice.

Chris chuckles softly as he holds the ice in his mouth, slowly moving from your neck to your chest. His movements are slow and teasing, goosebumps rising along your body, the singular ice cube causing chills to rush up your spine. Chris's eyes meet yours as he trails his mouth down to your exposed breasts.

You flinch softly as his cold lips wrap around your nipple, a soft gasp escaping your mouth as the ice cube circles around the bud. As he focuses on one with his icy mouth, he tweaks the other, pulling at it gently and flicking it.

It's odd how quickly your body reacts to his ministrations. Your breathing had become erratic, your abdomen clenching as you felt that familiar coil in your stomach. "O-oh shit, Chris wai-" You're cut off by your own moans, your orgasm hitting you quicker than you expected.

Chris gives you no time to recover, trailing the ice down the valley of your breasts as he yanks your shorts down. He throws them across the room, pushing open your legs as he kneels on the ground. He takes his precious time, dragging the ice cube with his mouth along your inner thighs. It wasn't until the cube of frozen water had melted that he attached his mouth to your clit.

You yelp in shock - his cold tongue flicking at your warm clit has your back arching, your eyes rolling back. Between the temperature change, the previous orgasm that never calmed down, and his skillful mouth, your body goes into a state of shock. Your hands grip at his sweaty hair, pushing him away and closer to your aching mound at the same time.

You were so caught up in your own pleasure, you didn't notice Chris soaking his fingers in the cold water. He pushes both his index and ring finger into your aching cunt, immediately curling them against that special spot that has your legs shaking.

It wasn't long before you reached your second orgasm, your eyes clenching shut, back arching, and Chris's head still shoved against your cunt. He pulls away with a satisfied smile, planting a soft kiss to your thighs before standing on his feet.

"Are you cooled down now?"

You slowly sit up, swallowing harshly as you try to even out your breathing. You reach for the glass of water, taking a big sip. Just like Chris had done, you secretly take an ice cube into your mouth and set the glass down. You let it sit in your mouth until it's a bit smaller and push Chris down on the bed, pulling his boxers down.

He watches with hard eyes as you grab his dick and allow spit to dribble out of your mouth and onto his tip. He sucks in a sharp breath as the cold spit collides with his tip, your thump swiping over it and beginning to jerk him off. He moans softly, his body relaxing into the mattress. However, his relaxation is interrupted by the coldness of your mouth taking him all the way down your throat, his hips jerking as he groans loudly.

"Holy sh-shit," He lifts his head and looks down at you, watching as your plump lips wrap around his girthy length. You bob your head at a steady pace, swirling the half-melted ice cube around his tip in the process.

"Shit- oh fuck- you better swallow it." He mumbles feeling himself already reaching his tipping point- the ice doing nothing but making him sensitive. It wasn't long before he filled your mouth and you swallow with ease.

He yanks you up off the floor so you're straddling his lap, the two of you smashing your lips against each other. You make out for what feels like hours until he rolls you over on your back. He pulls away from you and looks down at you, "You're getting hot again baby-" He lazily reaches over to the nightstand and scoops the last half-melted ice cube out of the glass. He hikes your body closer and motions for you to hold your legs. You do as told, hooking your arms behind your knees and pulling the limbs closer to your chest.

He focuses down on your dripping cunt and spreads your folds apart, slowly pushing the ice cube into your warmth. You gasp at the new and shocking feeling- you could feel the now rounded edges of the ice cube, the warmth of your walls causing the water to trickle out. Chris wastes no time in slowly pushing himself inside of you, both of you moaning out at the pleasurable feeling.

He loved your cunt as it was, the way your warm walls stretched to welcome his length before clamping down and begging for him to stay inside- but there was something different about the temperature change caused by the ice cube,

Everything was sensitive, it was mind-blowing.

He rocks his hips slowly, watching the way your eyes roll back and your face contorts. His slow thrusts turn into quick and harsh ones, your hands dropping your legs as you grip at his arms.

"Fuck fuck fuck! Chris Chris Chr-" He cuts you off by shoving his fingers in your mouth. " I know baby- shiitt- feels so good, feels so fucking good." He groans out. You swirl your tongue around his fingers, moaning around the slim digits as you feel yourself getting close.

"Pussy feels so good-mm fuuck- gonna come for me?" He pulls his fingers from your mouth, and begins to circle your clit with your spit.

Your back arches as you let out a pornographic moan, your legs shaking violently as you reach your final orgasm. Chris follows shortly, spilling his seed deep in your warmth. He collapses right on top of you, the both of you panting harshly at the new experience.

After a few minutes of harsh panting, he slowly sits up and pulls out, watching as his cum mixed with water spills out of you quickly, pooling around the cusp of your ass.

It wasn't long before the both of you were standing in his shower, the lukewarm water cleansing the sweat and other fluids from your bodies. You clean each other off, giggling softly as you both talk about the new bedroom experience and what you liked about it. " I know what we should try during the winter," You voice with a smile on your face. Chris chuckles and raises a brow, pulling you closer.

"Oh yeah? And what's that?" Before you can answer, a banging on the door catches both of your attention.

" We got AC's for all three rooms. I left it on your couch." Matt's muffled voice shouts through the sound of the shower. Chris responds with a quick "thanks" and looks back down at you.

"What should we try during winter?" Your hand slowly wraps around his dick, starting to jerk it slowly as you maintain eye contact.

"Wax play."