#i haven’t had an actual conversion with anyone this week

[little-emerald-snake]

Blackmail - Ominis Gaunt X F!MC

🔥 NSFW 🔞 MDNI

scene is f!mc during the shadow of friendship quest where she needs to talk Ominis out of telling on Sebastian to be committed to Azkaban BUT instead of the soft reaction we get in-game what if Ominis has actually harbored deep desires for the mc until now and since he's aware that she has feelings for Sebastian instead, uses this opportunity to "blackmail" the mc into convincing him to not put Sebastian away. so really a non-con scene of dark!ominis x f!mc if you will requested by @moongurl95 via dms

Genuinely so sorry this took me like three weeks but my life is in shambles literally setting this up to post while sheltering from a tornado 💀 but don’t worry I’m fine. Anyway I hope this is what you’re looking for 🫶🏻

Warnings: blackmail, threats, dirty talk, non-con, Dominis, stolen virginity, unprotected sex, creampie

2.4k words

She stood beside Sebastian who paced the stone floor beside his blonde companion. The air in the undercroft hung heavier than ever around them. Ominis was being brutally honest, telling Sebastian that his twin, Anne, couldn’t bear the thought of turning him in. Sebastian was a bit shocked, pacing back and forth while trying to defend himself before Ominis finally gave a sigh, saying he’d give Sebastian some time to think.

As he walked away Sebastian resumed his nervous pacing and she approached him, laying a hand on his shoulder. “I can’t believe he’s gone. How did things go so wrong? I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean to-“ He shook his head in dismay. “Oh Anne. I was only trying to help. I can’t leave now. Anne needs me more than ever.”

She nodded, her head felt full of confusion and worry but she’d grown to care for Sebastian and couldn’t imagine that he’d truly wanted to hurt anyone. She knew the lengths he was willing to go for Anne. That kind of love and devotion spoke to her. “Don't worry Sebastian. I shall speak with Ominis.”

Sebastian breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. You’re a real friend, truly. No matter what happens from here, I’m glad we met.” With that he turned and walked to the exit of the Undercroft. She waited till the doors chimed and she heard him exit before she turned with a sigh toward Ominis.

She could practically sense the dark cloud looming over the other side of the undercroft and a sort of unease rolled over her. This wasn’t going to be an easy conversation. Ominis had sensed her approach and decided to tell her what had happened after they’d spoken last. He’d run back to Hogwarts and before he’d been able to speak to the headmaster Anne had contacted him. He’d rushed to Feldcroft and found Anne with Solomon’s body. How deeply stricken with grief she was. “I don’t want to lose Sebastian but I don’t think we have a choice.”

She chewed her bottom lip with a worried expression. “Ominis…we do have a choice. What good would it do now to turn him in? He clearly regrets everything. He’s not going to do anything like this again.”

Ominis’ eyes darkened. “What makes you so sure? You’ve said that about nearly everything else thus far? You said letting him into the scriptorium wasn’t going to end badly yet he casted Crucio on you without a moment's hesitation. You promised the relic wouldn't cause harm yet he was ready to throw our entire friendship away just to take it with him.”

She looked down. He was right. Everything he’d said had been true. Yet she had grown fond of Sebastian both as a friend and maybe more over the span of their year. “Ominis I know how this seems but Sebastian isn’t like this. He made a mistake…it was for Anne’s life.”

Ominis’ tone turned angry, the same scowl that first day she’d come from the Undercroft painted his features as he took a step toward her. “He’s got you wrapped around his finger…he used you…and you don’t even seem to care?! You’d rather blindly ignore the damage he’d caused to make him the hero in your book because you’ve begun to harbor feelings for him haven’t you?”

She was about to deny it but what was the point? Ominis had so clearly seen through everything and while she hated to admit it, he wasn’t wrong. “I…suppose I have. I just want the best for him and Anne…it makes no sense to send him away now when Anne will be needing her brother the most.”

Ominis’ scowl darkened. “I see. So are you willing to accept the punishment for his actions? You’re an accomplice to murder if you choose to continue down this path. If he continues on the way he is I will not hesitate to turn you both in for these crimes.”

She blinked, honestly shocked about what he’d said. But she truly believed that Sebastian was good deep down. He just let this get away from him. “Yes. I understand. I promise. He won’t cause anymore trouble. Just don’t take him from Anne.”

He agreed begrudgingly, taking another step forward. She backed up a step, bumping into a stack of crates with a gasp. His voice came out dark and low. “So you are the kind of girl who falls for the villain then?”

Her eyes widened in surprise as her head whipped back around, his tone dark and a bit husky. His palm came up to rest on the crate right beside her face, his body pushing closer. “What are you willing to give up to ensure I don’t turn you and Sebastian in? What price would you pay for a life that’s already been stained in blood?”

The knot in her throat solidified and it felt like she had mouthfuls of sawdust she had to swallow in order to form words. “Ominis, w-what are you talking about…we don’t have to give up anything…we just don’t tell anyone…”

Ominis chuckled darkly, shaking his head. “I’m well aware darling. I asked what you were willing to give up in order to keep me quiet. This deal has nothing in it for me. You and Sebastian get away with murder and I’m stuck holding the truth for nothing while you both run off and fall in love. Hardly fair if you ask me.”

Her eyes widened and she suddenly understood what was happening. She moved to run but his hand, much stronger than she’d imagined, came up to hold her wrist, wrenching and pinning it above her head, shortly joined by her other. “Now now, no running away from your problems anymore. You need to come up with a solution I’ll accept or you won’t be leaving here. You better get thinking before I decide for you.”

Her mind reeled over what she could offer him. What did he want? She thought and thought but nothing came to mind. He grinned darkly. “My choice then. I can work with that.”

He moved quickly, spinning her and bending her over a crate. She gasped, surprised by the suddenness as the wood bit into her hip bones. His surprisingly strong body pinned her down with ease, one hand holding her wrists above her head while the other worked at pulling up her school skirts. “Tell me darling, are you currently taking contraceptive potions?”

Her heart pounded in her chest. Her body had the choice of fight or flight and for some bloody reason it had chosen to freeze. “I-I no…why would I-?”

He’d laughed, cutting her off while pulling her underwear to the side. “Well you better start my dear. Because if you manage to conceive I’ll ruin your pathetic life. As a Gaunt I refuse to carry forward the bloodline.”

She listened to the sound of his belt being undone and blood whooshed in her ears. She knew the time to speak up was now but she was still at a loss for words. She couldn’t very well deny him after he’d made the threat to turn her and Sebastian in. She had to stay quiet and take it, if not for herself and Sebastian’s innocence than for Anne still having a relative to care for her.

She pressed her face to the crate, tears welling in her eyes. “O-okay. I-I won’t let that happen.” She listened to him as he hummed in satisfaction and she listened to the shuffle of his pants as he pushed them down. She felt the blunt tip of him at her opening and she sniffled, stiffening up with nerves wound tight.

Ominis huffed, trying to push forward but her tense body wouldn’t allow his entrance. “For Merlin’s sake you need to relax. Just imagine it’s Sebastian like always and it’ll be over before you know it.”

She sniffled again as he released her hands and they immediately went to the edge of the crate, gripping so tightly her knuckles turned white. “S-Sebastian has never…I’ve never…”

His eyes widened in recognition and he pulled back, voice coming a bit softer this time. “You’ve never…not once?”

She nodded and his hand came to swipe away the tears, his other hand coming to slide her hair behind her ear. “It feels good after the initial bit you know…if you could survive the pain of Crucio you can make it through this and it’ll start to feel good. You don’t even have to imagine it’s me...”

She sniffled and nodded carefully, he brushed her cheek and his other hand dipped between them to rub the blunt tip up and down between her slit. The sensations were all new but the feel of him stimulating that bundle of nerves between her legs had small spikes of pleasure shooting up through her. She hated it.

She tried to fight it, her body may be wanting this but he was good at pushing the right buttons. She didn’t want Ominis. She was still stuck, she had to do this for Anne and Sebastian to be a family. She sucked in a shaky breath that turned into a whimper as he slid over her clit again.

His warm breath ghosted over her neck. His chest, which was pressed against her back, rumbled. “That’s right dear. Relax and let your body take over. Turn that brilliant brain off for a bit and put yourself somewhere happy. It’ll be over soon.”

He notched himself at her entrance and she let another few tears slip, rolling down her cheeks. She tried to imagine that this was Sebastian above her, that it was after the ball and he’d asked her to go somewhere private. Just then, slim fingers slid between her folds and rubbed small circles around that bundle of nerves.

She moaned out softly and his hips slid forward, his tip kissing that barrier within her that she knew would end this pleasure. She pushed the thought away, trying to imagine those fingers a bit thicker and rougher against her body. She tried to imagine what breathy sounds he’d make or what encouragement he’d whisper against her skin.

A moan from between her lips and Ominis’ body sank forward, pushing past that barrier and sending spikes of discomfort through her body. But as quickly as the discomfort started his fingers redoubled with the pleasurable circles and she was arching into it and whimpering in pleasure. His breath came gently across the back of her neck as he slid her hair out of the way. “That’s right Darling, just like that.”

She moaned low as he praised her, his hips slowly moving back and forth inside of her but he focused most of his intentions on her clit. She was at the very least thankful he didn’t want her to be in pain.

She tried to force herself to think about Sebastian again but the way Ominis’ breathing picked up and his slender body slid against hers as he began to thrust deeper dragged her out of the daydream. She hated how her body reacted, her stomach flipping and swirling and tightening as she listened to the small puffs of air and panting that left his lips.

The pinching discomfort between her legs slowly morphed into hot pleasure that rippled through her in waves. She gripped the crate tighter and his thrusts grew longer and deeper. “Great Merlin you’re so fucking tight, I’ve never had a witch who was a sweet little virgin. I don’t think I can go back after this. Or if this is all just you we may have to convince Sebastian to share your brilliant little body.”

His words sent shocks of pleasure through her and she moaned, pushing her hips back. This felt so good, she struggled to maintain her fantasy of Sebastian ravaging her when Ominis was the one here making her feel so incredible. Pleasure swirled deep in her stomach and she tightened, forcing him to groan behind her. “You better be careful squeezing around me like that. Might just get the idea you actually like this with me or something.”

She whimpered, unable to hold another ripple of pleasure from surging through her. His fingers moved faster, making her arch into his touch for more. “Fuck yes, darling. That’s it. Make me cum, pretty girl.”

His hips slammed deeper till their bodies had no space between, his thrusts growing faster. Her poor hips were going to be bruised and sore from being slammed forward into the crate. The head of him nudged against a spot inside of her that had her seeing stars. She hadn’t even realized how loudly she’d cried out.

He chuckled darkly, angling her hips so he’d hit that spot with every single thrust. “That’s it, come on love, you know you want to cum all over my cock after I took your sweet innocence.”

She made a pitiful sound, the pleasure was too much and the emotions swirling inside of her caused tears to form in the corner of her eyes. His fingers rolling deft circles and him nudging into that spot was all too much for her.

She heard him groan in what sounded like sweet agony as her body stilled, her traitorous body tightening around him. He tensed, holding onto her hips for deer life as he pumped into her. She grew slick and sticky between her legs and she pressed her forehead against the crate, letting her tears fall as she composed her breathing.

Instead of staying to comfort her, he pulled out, casting a cleansing charm on himself before tucking himself away and fixing his attire. She stayed there, quietly crying as his seed and her blood mixed and dripped down her thighs.

He cleared his throat and she finally stood up, not bothering with a cleaning charm and just righting her clothing. She wouldn’t feel clean till she soaked in a boiling hot bath for several hours. But she turned to find him standing there as if nothing had ever happened. “I’ll take this into consideration when I talk to Anne about how best to break the news to the Headmaster. For now you can tell Sebastian I’ve chosen not to turn you both in. But this only lasts as long as you both stay away from the Dark Arts. Understood?”

She nodded, quickly feeling like an idiot before giving him a shaky verbal response. She wouldn’t let her sacrifice be for nothing. She’d make sure the fluffy haired brunette would stay in line no matter the cost.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy smut #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #ominis gaunt #dark ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt fanfiction #ominis gaunt smut #little emerald snake #request

[doriantomybasil]

I haven’t cried in like three months because I’m just so good at managing my emotions and I started crying yesterday and I didn’t stop for like three hours

#that was sarcasm btw #i’m always so scared to use sarcasm because what if i didn’t do a good enough job at it and people will think i’m being serious #yeah so i’m doing great thank you for asking #i came to the conclusion that i’m just simply not enough to make people stay😊 #amazing #had a great time #i haven’t had an actual conversion with anyone this week #it’s all just been hello how are you this class sucks #so that might have something to do with it #i need human interaction #i’m like if a plant was a person #that makes sense so me don’t question it #hey if you’re still reading this i love you

[void-tiger]

I have a plan. Trusted people say it’s a good plan. I do not know if I have the courage to do said plan.

#tiger’s roar #socializing crap #…it is. terrifying. to be the one to reach out #and constantly worrying I’m reading things wrong #wanting things too soon. risk being smothering and Scary #…I literally handpainted cards for 2 Weeks Late birthday cards as a way to…IDK?? give away art? it’s cheap? #and made FOUR spicejars of rocks #to not leave anyone out. to give ONE a jar of rocks #i just. i don’t know if I have the nerve #did all that scheming to ‘hey wanna see something neat?? thinking about you’ and. idk if I have the courage #wHAT aRE tHEY eVEN gONNa dO wITH iT TiGER?! #is…a constant thought. because having something to try and hold onto is…always awkward #and. good god. i’m still scared to even stand next to this guy and sing again #because doing so Imediately got him teased and scared off #like…things feel consistantly friendly now. but. that’s Vibes. #we still haven’t had another Real conversation #but then again. he did catch me in two different upsets…and it didn’t scare him #No One can actually tolerate me when I stress cry. let alone have a defensive cptsd reaction #or get cranky if my Real Feelings leak out when truly asked #and that all seems…accepted? is it too soon to say that? who knows #like. sure /I’d/ like to get a handmade card and bottle of Neat Collected Stuff #and my therapist encouraged me to go for it #that it’d be a good way to Show ‘hey I care about you guys’ #in a way that takes Time but isn’t really a Cost to make it awkward #(you collect rocks off the ground. the bottles are just washed recycling. I already had watercolors #(and want to have the Courage to give away art to say. family #(and my friends all said that ‘Tiger we’d LOVE to recieve this too!’ #(which yeah. already a plan. already planning what to paint fam and hopefully not have their crit sink my esteme yet again) #how much is Insecurity. how much is Rationality. idk.

[beefcake007]

I’m still mad about something that happened on tiktok last week and I want to do a post about it and explain an aspect of transphobia I’ve observed.

A cis user made a video asking that trans people share more banger music that they make, but clarified saying “by trans people, I mean trans women” because trans men only make that “sad ukulele” music. There was much discourse, he doubled down and said trans men couldn’t take a joke, other trans people threw the offended transmascs under the bus, or insisted that they can also make club music, yada yada.

I want to know if the queers who haven’t been queer as long as I have know that this exact drama was had with gays and lesbians. Do you know that some transphobia is repackaged homophobia and lesbophobia? I feel like that’s something we should be allowed to say and examine without someone shutting you down and insisting you’re conflating the gays and transes.

But yeah, for decades the joke has been that gay men are the fun flamboyant ones that make good art and dance music, and that lesbians are angry and dress ugly and make sad folk music. It’s pretty much an identical bias and resulting disrespectful jokes.

And it’s shit! I’m not going to let anyone, let alone a cis person, get away with transphobia just because it’s directed at trans men. It’s rude and harmful to devalue our art, and our art doesn’t need to be easily consumable to you. We’re allowed to be pissed and offended when you write us off, minimize the harm you’ve done, and exclude us from the conversation. It’s obvious when you only tolerate the queers who can serve you, and that you don’t actually care to listen or learn about our lives, struggles, and art.

#transphobia #anti transmasculinity #transgender #transmasc #trans man #tiktok #lesbophobia

[al1fers-haven]

Almost Instinctual

Alastor x pregnant!reader

‼️pregnant reader, pregnancy in general, overprotective Alastor, a bit of angst, secret pregnancy‼️

Prompt: In where you, y/n, go to the Hazbin hotel for shelter after splitting up with your previous boyfriend. And try and keep your pregnancy a secret until you find a better solution.

Part 1 (you’re here!), part 2

(I am lazy and am writing this like it’s a bunch of facts and writing specific scenes…I might rewrite when I get my laptop.)

(8 weeks/2 months)

You and your boyfriend had split up about a week ago, afraid you’ll run out of money eventually you decided that instead of staying at a creepy motel with no locks, you’d move to a free-helpful option.

Of course you felt a little bad for abusing the owners kindness, using the Hazbin hotel not for redemption, but instead for shelter and food.

Charlie had welcomed you in with open arms (literally, she squeezed you pretty hard.) and even introduced you to everyone except for two who were out running around hell.

Alastor was explained to you as a creepy, tall deer man who may sound rude but has good intentions.

And Charlie explained angeldust as a ‘work in progress’ and told her a couple stories instead of describing him.

Charlie offered you the job of receptionist, claiming that husker wasn’t exactly good with the socializing aspect of it and you happily accepted. Eyes beaming at the opportunity for a job right infront of you.

(12 weeks/3 months)

You were happily greeted with nausea every morning. The morning sickness now starting to affect you more than ever, you haven’t exactly told anyone about your pregnancy and were hoping to be out of the hotel by the time you started showing.

Now working at the hotel for a bit, you noticed that probably wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

“Are you alright y/n?” Charlie peaked her head into the bathroom; a small frown on her face as you heaved a bit, nodding.

“Yup- I’m just dandy..! Mind getting me a wet towel or something love? I think I ate something bad yesterday…” Charlie let out a little gasp and nodded, running off to god knows where just to get that little thing for you.

You had actually started to get to know the patrons of the hotel more, for example. You learned angeldust was actually the pornstar you had heard about all over social media. And he adored three things.

Making people uncomfortable.

Cocaine.

And candy crush.

Husk had given you a couple of sickness remedies, saying that they would help with stomach bugs. All natural just incase you were allergic and you slowly started to warm up to him.

Charlie and vaggie had grown to be very special to you now. Their opposite personalities absolutely making you giggle everytime you hung out with them or went out for groceries.

Now, Alastor was an odd fellow. He was a bit younger than you since you were hellbotn and all but he seemed to act older than you. Calling you things like ‘dear’, ‘Cher’, or Mon biche.

Mon biche was the most common one, and after looking it up. You realized he was calling you my doe, or just doe 90% of the time.

He definetly knew. Not letting you eat any form of ‘raw meat’ that would go on your plate and even specially making drinks for you so you felt like you could participate in drinking games without suspicion.

Overall, he was a total kitten. A bit emotionally stunted in areas of course..but he never failed to brighten the room.

(Unless he was threatening someone.)

(17 weeks/3.2 months)

You started showing, not visibly with clothing on but you were still showing when you sat down.

Your closet changed a bit, from nice outfits to usually a dress you had gotten or some high waisted sweats, trying to be as comfortable as possible in your state.

Alastor had been…odd.

He had started to let you grab his arm when going up or down the stairs, which usually during conversations he’d just stand at the bottom waiting. And he now seemed like he was constantly watching you.

Husker had done the same. The two animal demons in the hotel knowing because of a certain change in smell, it wasn’t like you didn’t know it was going to happen.

Husker had promoted for just leaving you alone and stopping the mean comments, understanding that pregnant women were a force to be reckoned with. (And you appreciated that. You had been crying earlier that day for the cookie you bought not tasting like blueberry’s.)

You cried a couple times because of angel, which Alastor just stared at you as you sniffled and attempted to keep the conversation going.

You also cried about 2 days ago because Charlie bought you a pretty necklace. It was hell.

Alastor tried to be accommodating in the field of emotional intelligence but…he failed. Making you cry more times than he could count and to be honest he only cared that he did because you were quite literally an angel to everyone.

Husker asked you in private one day if Mr smiles was the daddy to that little hellspawn and all you could do was laugh and blush a bit. Telling husker that he wasn’t and that he was just acting that way because she was a single mother.

Husker didn’t understand that, Alastor never had a soft spot for women her age.

(20 weeks/4 months)

First time you let anyone touch your stomach was during this time period, Alastor did so with adoration almost. Mentioning something about how he always had a soft spot for women with children..

You two had grown a bit closer.

Husker definitely still had his suspicions about you and the baby. He really thinks is alastors with the way he had been acting.

The red demon had gone out of his way several times to get you your weird ass cravings. One day you asked for a bite of his venison and then cried because you weren’t allowed to have it

You found him coming near you more often and asking multiple times to touch your baby bump as it grew, and everytime you let him that little tail of his would wag a bit behind him. Seemingly happy with the little life growing inside you.

He got more protective as well. Way more protective. He was your puppy that followed you around basically.

(He totally got you a bunch of ice cream, or helped you out with foods and sickness with his old man knowledge.)

(25 weeks/5 months)

If you wanna talk about awkward? Everyone in the hotel basically thought you and Alastor were a thing with how weird you two were together.

You would always be caught either straightening his bow tie or dusting off his shoulders. The term doting describing the two of you around one another.

May or may have not let it slip to Charlie that ‘it’s not like that, Alastor has said multiple times he doesn’t want to prey on pregnant women.

She asked to be the godmother.

Alastor hated the thought of that actually when you brought up that Charlie might be a good fit when he was giving you a snack. A nerve you didn’t know he had.

Soon everyone knew you were pregnant and angel was absolutely infatuated with this information. Asking who’s it is and stuff like that.

(7 months)

Alastor and you were practically a thing- he would help you out a lot and in return you’d kiss his cheek or help him out with cooking.

He practically worships the ground you walk on. Foot rubs for when they hurt, running a bath for you. Even going out of his way to compliment your outfits (even if you looked downright awful that day)

He even accompanied you to return the ring your ex gave you. Along with a couple other belongings you had from him.

Alastor may or may have not been seen with you outside , and you were mentioned by Rosie the next time.

(8 months)

Alastor and you had become somewhat official, if letting a dude fall asleep on your pregnant stomach bc he wanted to means official. Then yes( you were.

After you had a talk with Alastor about why he acted the way he did around you he simply said it was almost instinctual to take care of you. Something along the lines of him also being a gentleman.

He had invited you out to cannibal town, where you met Rosie and she was absolutely infatuated with you. Asking you questions and being so lovely towards you. Even going as far as mentioning she had her fair share of labor experience when it came to giving birth!

Alastor was very pleased to hear Rosie would help you- a bit scared she would eat the baby though…

(Part two coming out about nine months and the actual baby?)

#hazbin alastor #hazbin art #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #pregnant reader #secret pregnancy #slow burn #soft alastor #deer man

[luveline]

more hotch with teacher!reader? maybe she’s trying to take a bunch of things into her classroom one morning and hotch jumps in to help (and flirt with) them :)) i adore you’re writing thank you for sharing sm with us lately!!!

you’re so welcome ily ty for requesting! <3 fem, 1k

Today, you and your class are going to make dioramas with a heavy focus on paper crafting. For the last few days, you’ve helped them make plans on what they want to create, and then you scoured the internet for origami and craft tutorials to suit. The only one you couldn’t find was for poor Jamie’s tractors. You’ll figure it out, you’re sure. 

You’ve been saving cardboard boxes, toilet roll inserts, and egg cartons for months. There’s a total mountain of things to bring in, so you’re here early. You figure if you carry huge armfuls, you can get everything inside in three trips. 

“Oh,” you say, as a cardboard box tumbles to the ground, and somehow doesn’t give you a clearer view, “whoops. I’ll pick that up. Jeez.” 

You step over it and almost slip. 

“Careful,” someone says. 

You jump and send an egg carton skittering across the floor. “Oh, gosh! You scared me!” You twist your head, the cardboard that had been resting on your face falling down into your collar. “Oh, Mr. Hotchner.” 

Of course it’s Mr. Hotchner. Aaron, predictably. 

“Aaron,” he says, leaning down to grab the things you’ve dropped, before he opens his arm toward you. You lean away from your tower, embarrassed but relieved when he takes the bulk of your tall tower from you. 

“Thank you, Aaron. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here so early. Is everything okay?” 

“Let me help you with this.” 

Avoiding the question. You and Aaron carry your cardboard inside to the classroom, where you unlock your door (and you never would’ve been able to do without his rescue). He follows you to the arts and crafts table toward the back of the room, and you deposit your stock. 

“Thank you,” you say when he places his armful down. 

“It’s no problem. Can I help with the rest?” 

“Would you, please?” you ask. “It seemed a lot less before today.” 

You bring the rest back in. He’s the picture of a perfect gentleman and carries more than you each time, which isn’t to say you can’t have carried the same as he did, but it’s nice for once to be the one looked after. As a teacher, you get used to giving. 

He doesn’t make you ask him twice. “I’m here early because I wanted to talk with you if you’re free, before I head into the office.” 

“His Aunt is bringing him today?” you ask about Jack. 

“I didn’t manage to get home in time last night to see him, but I’ll be here at pick up time.” 

You nod, hyper aware that you’d swayed the conversation again. “Sorry, what were you saying?” 

“It’s about Jack. Well, it’s mostly about me. I’d like to ask you for a favour, if you’re willing.” 

“Oh, sure. Of course.” 

“You haven’t heard it yet.” 

You flush under the weight of his knowing smile. “No, I mean, I’m sure it’ll be fine. So…” 

“It’s hard sometimes to get Jack to tell me what you’re doing in school. I had no idea he’d be making dioramas today. And I don’t need your lesson plans, I’d never expect that of you, but I was hoping you could summarise the week for me on Fridays? Or whenever you can. I don’t need updates on how Jack is progressing, it could be a couple of words on the topics you’ve chosen, just so I know what he’s doing while I’m away.” 

You’ve never been asked to do it. Parents of kids in the second grade aren’t usually clocked in on what their kids are learning. School is still half fun at this age, your most important job is to make sure they can all read with acceptable fluency. And it’s hard because their parents don’t help, but it’s fine. You love teaching them something so important, and you’re ecstatic to meet someone who’s actually interested. 

You beam. “Yeah, of course I can. I can do that, I don’t mind. Nobody ever wants to know what we’re doing, which is such a shame! I mean, they’re so excited and of course their parents care, but if they have just a little bit of support it makes a huge difference. I can totally send you my lesson plans, Aaron. I’d like to.” You laugh to yourself smugly. “I never get to show them off. They’re extensive. And they take ages.” 

“You want to show them off?” he asks softly. 

His voice is velveteen. 

“Is that awful?” you ask.

“No, it makes sense. You really don’t have to if it’s too much trouble, but I… feel guilty, when I call him and ask how school was, and he can’t remember what happened.” 

“Don’t feel bad about that. The kids can’t remember what I told them ten minutes ago.” 

He isn’t like you, in that he’s very still. He doesn’t move or fidget, which makes his looking at you all the more obvious. “Thank you,” he says. 

“You’re welcome.” 

“Can I pay you back?” 

You catch one of your bracelets and twist it around your wrist. 

Aaron told you without hesitation that he profiles criminals. He can read their expressions, habits, and idiosyncrasies as thoughts and feelings. He can trace movement to the source. You’re positive he wouldn’t keep asking you such leading questions, or insist you call him by his first name every time you see him, if he didn’t already know that you find him attractive. 

“How would you do that?” you ask. 

“Is there anything else you… need help with?” 

A million things, but you’re no idiot. You can read subtlety too. 

“Well, I have a bunch of textbooks on the top shelf in the stockroom you could help me with.” You smile shyly. “It gets hot in there, though.” 

He begins taking off his suit jacket. “That,” he says, his gaze on you with all the tenderness and amusement of someone who’s known you longer, “won’t be a problem.” 

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble #criminal minds

[daycourtofficial]

The Shadows Want You to be Happy

Summary: Azriel’s shadows overhear a conversation where you doubt Azriel’s true intentions, and they urge him to rectify the situation.

Author’s note: this is just pure fluff baby! Pure unadulterated fluff. Go to the dentist! Also I didn’t proofread this, so enjoy at your own caution!

His shadows didn’t mean to spy on you, they promise. They just liked keeping an eye on you at all times.

Azriel had no idea why his shadows seemed to adore you so much - well, he could understand it, because he adored you just as much as his shadows did. But he can’t figure out why - they don’t like being around Elain, but most of the others the shadows just watch.

Not you, though. Whenever you two are in the same room his shadows roam over you, greeting an old friend. If he’s been away for a days on a mission, they spend several minutes swirling around you, seemingly doting on you, like they’re asking “are you okay? Did you eat while we were gone? Did you sleep?”

A few shadows have taken it upon themselves to stay stationed with you at all times. He thinks they have a schedule, out of jealousy and need to share their time with you, but they don’t really tell him too much about what they see. The most they’ll tell him is if you haven’t eaten in a while or that time they told him about you having a cold and not wanting anyone to find out. He spent three days in your apartment with you, feeding you soup and taking care of you.

His shadows absolutely do not tell him the things you say or how you’re feeling, or so he thought. Both of the shadows that were asking as your bodyguards came to him, like little kids with a story to tell.

-

You were laying on the couch in the library with Feyre, engrossed in your independent books. The two of you do this weekly, enjoying each other’s presence without much social obligation. Sometimes the two of you will talk, but it’s often followed by long, comfortable silences. Just when you thought the silence was going to stay for a while, Feyre spoke up.

“so, sweetie, how are things with you and Azriel?” She asks, closing her book to turn to you.

Your cheeks heat immediately. “Um,” you say, closing your book to turn to her, knowing that she won’t relent until she gets what she wants out of this conversation.

You had kept your feelings for him mostly to yourself, except one drunken night a few weeks ago you had told Feyre about how pretty he was. You thought she might have forgotten about it, but this conversation is telling you she wants more. Thank the mother it wasn’t Rhys or Cas you had told that to - they would have mocked your word choice of “devastatingly pretty” for years.

“Well, we have plans to go out tonight,” you reply, very nervous about opening up to Feyre. She looked at you, her face asking for you to continue. “We’re trying all of the bakeries in Velaris to see who has the best pastries and hot chocolate, so once a week we try a new one and gorge ourselves on baked goods and chocolate.”

Feyre smiled at how absolutely adorable that was. “Are these… dates?” she asks, smiling at how absolutely oblivious the two of you were.

“We call them dates,” you reply.

“Do you two do anything physical? You don’t have to be gratuitous with details, I’m not Mor.” Feyre says, shuddering thinking of Mor grilling you for details on if the two of you have had sex yet.

“Um well the bakeries are usually cozy so we usually are tucked away in a corner, pressed up together. In one of them we had to wait for a table, so he just wrapped his wings around me while we waited.” You told her, grinning at the memory of his body heat.

“Do you two ever kiss?”

You sink a little further into the couch, your cheeks blazing with heat now, your hands covering your face as you say, “yes”.

“Has there been more than kissing?”

Feyre watches the head hiding behind youe hands nod ever so slightly and squeals. She actually squeals.

The people of Velaris love to gossip with her, and when she heard rumors of two of her friends being spotted around town looking very coupley, she decided to investigate. It also doesn’t help that the Inner Circle has a betting pool on when you ans Azriel will get together. Her bet was this week, so she’s doing what she can to win. And because she wants the two of you to be happy. And because Cassian bet that you two would be together next week, and she can’t lose to him, his gloating is atrocious.

“So, you two are together?” She asks, practically bouncing in her seat.

“I’m not sure,” you say, “honestly I’m a little worried that this means more to me than it does to him.” You look down at your hands, “I don’t really do casual dating, and I’m a little worried that this is just a fling to him. It’s really incredible and hot and sweet and all but.” You look around to see if anyone is listening before you whisper, “honestly, it would break my heart if this was just casual for him.”

Feyre was shocked at how sad you looked at the idea of being something casual to Az. She knew the two of you were head over heels for each other, they all knew that, but you looked devastated.

“Sweetie,” she says, trying her best to console you, “there is no way that that male views you or anything to do with you as ‘casual’.“

“Are you sure?” You ask, hesitation lacing your every word.

“Absolutely. He lights up whenever you’re around and I’ve never seen him miss a function you’re at.”

You thank your friend for the reassurances and settle back into your respective books. You knew that Azriel’s shadows often followed you around, even without him being anywhere nearby. He once told you that they find you adorable. However, you didn’t realize that the two who were stationed with you left very quickly after your discussion with Feyre.

-

The shadows relayed the whole story to him, in part because they, like the inner circle, want the two of you together. But also because they understand that you were upset and Azriel could fix it.

Azriel was more shocked at the insistence from them to make you less upset - usually they are just uninvolved observers, simply passing along information to him, allowing him to draw his own conclusions. The way those shadows spoke to him you’d think that they were in charge of him.

He met you outside of your apartment later that night, dressed in an all black casual outfit. “Ready?” He asks, extending his arm out for you to take. You lock the door behind him, straightening your coat before taking his arm.

The two of you start these dates off by walking through Velaris. Winter has just begun and there’s a light falling of snow covering the two of you.

“What’d you get up to today? I haven’t seen you since breakfast,” he asks you, not-so-subtly reminding you that you were, in fact, his breakfast, before he left your apartment this morning.

“I spent most of the day in the library with Feyre, reading a few books, doing some research. I had to get out of there, the words were all starting to blend together,” you reply, nuzzling into his arm to retain some of his heat, despite his jacket covering his arms.

“Mm, well then I guess you could consider me you’re handsome knight, off to whisk you away for an evening of delicacies in your time of need,” he retorts.

You chuckle and begin to speak, not stopping yourself before blurting, “why are you only like this with me? Don’t get me wrong, I love this side of you, but you only show it to me. Why’s that?”

Azriel stops your walk to stand in front of you, “ignoring your recent declaration of love,” you huff, “I just.. feel different around you.”

The look he’s giving you makes your knees go weak. He’s looking into your eyes with deep, raw honesty, like he wants you to see inside his soul.

“I love my family, despite their best efforts to annoy me into murdering them,” he says. You giggle. “But you’re.. different. The way I feel about you is different. I thought I loved Mor, but I didn’t. I loved the idea of saving her, of being her knight.” He sighs, unbelieving that he’s spilling all of this to you out in public. Luckily the other pedestrians just ignore the two of you, out of kindness or fear of him, he’s not sure. He pulls you into a quiet little alley, in the hopes to retain some privacy.

“It was stupid, but I thought I could save the girl and we’d live happily ever after. Then I met you. When I was a kid, I always wanted someone to come rescue me, and I thought that that was how you fall in love. But it’s not. I didn’t need to save you to love you. After this big revelation about myself, I took some time to really think about what I want. It’s why a few weeks back everyone thought I went to check on the war camps. Well, I did check on them, but I spent most of the time thinking. And I want you, no rescuing required. Though if you’d have me, I’d rescue you from anything. A bad day, my annoying family, the flu, anything. I’m not sure how clear my intentions have been, I figured showing you off around Velaris was enough, but I guess not.”

He paused, a mixture of nerves and intense determination radiating off of him.

“I haven’t thought about another person since I met you. I haven’t even considered looking at anyone else. Rhys has started calling me a puppy, because I follow you around everywhere, and I don’t care. I’ve never been so public with anyone, not giving a damn who sees or what they think, because I want them to know that you’re with me. I want everything you’ll give me.”

You’re stunned. It’s so quiet, you can hear the snow falling. It’s as if the world has gone silent to hear what you’ll say.

“Anything I’ll give you?” You say, a smirk crossing your face, wanting to draw out his confession a bit more.

“Anything.”

“Even if I snore?” You ask.

He laughs, “you don’t snore. You’re actually quite adorable when you’re asleep, hate to break it to you.”

“Hmm,” you say, stroking your finger on your chin, looking quizzical. “Guess you’ll just have to get used to my adorable sleeping, because if you’re accepting it, I’m giving you everything.”

He leans down, capturing your laugh with his lips, his shadows dancing around the two of you in excitement.

He pulls away after several minutes, laughing at the groan coming from your lips, “did you know that the idiots have a bet about us?”

He begins again after seeing your confused face, “If we’re together this week, Feyre wins the betting pool. Next week is Cassian.”

“Oh!” You exclaim, “that’s why she wanted us to be together so badly! Hm, maybe we should let Feyre win, because Cassian would be-

“Unbearable.” You both say in unison.

“When should we tell them? And how?” You ask.

“Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow we can just have sex on the dining room table, that’ll send the message loud and clear.” He says, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

You swat his arm, “no, we’re better than Cassian and Nesta. Maybe we should have a banner made. It’ll say “we had sex!” And point down to us.”

He chuckles, grabbing your arm again and steering you towards the bakery, as the two of you contemplate how to tell your family the news that will make them all so incredibly happy.

#azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #acotar fanfiction

[verstappen-cult]

# WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF I WENT TO TOUCH YOU NOW? | CL16

Or. . . 5 times you and Charles reach for the other and are oblivious about it + 1 time you aren’t.

Pairings: Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader.

Content Warnings: Smut, fingering, unprotected sex. Just two oblivious in love. This one is long, so, prepare yourself, go grab a cup of coffee and a snack. I haven’t written smut in a very long time so don’t expect anything fancy and please be nice. Enjoy! xx

You and Charles can’t keep your hands to yourselves. Everyone can see that. Everyone but you two.

Charles is always reaching for you. He’s the first one leaning in to kiss your cheek as a greeting when you see each other, lingering for a couple of seconds with his cheek against yours, feeling your soft skin, with his hand squeezing your waist ever so slightly. When you are out with your friends he’s always trying to sit by your side, waiting for the right moment to put his arm in the back of your chair, fingers brushing your shoulder and keeping up with the conversation as if nothing is happening. Charles tries to be smooth about it, he really tries.

And you are always reaching for Charles. Well, as his Press Officer it’s your job to be by his side. When you need him to pay attention to you as you’re explaining the plan for the day, you make sure to grab him by his biceps, not letting him go until you are finished, and even then you take a couple of seconds to pull away. Every time you pass each other around the paddock, you always find a way to catch his arm, his shoulder or his waist. Even when he’s too busy and late to something and you don’t actually need him for anything, he makes time for you.

But it wasn’t always like that.

There was a time when you would not even dare to think about touching him, too shy and wanting to be professional. It was a little hard when you had to be by his side almost all day, every day. You would try to not look directly at him – impossible to do given that you needed to do your job – but then Charles started to make a few jokes to break the ice and make some conversation, started to ask about your day, he started to care. And, well, the rest is history.

#1

New Year’s isn’t your favorite holiday, so, you spent it at home watching romcoms and went to sleep even before the clock hit midnight. Your friends weren’t happy but you promised to make it up to them. That is why you could not say no when your friends invited you to spend a few days with them on a Ski resort in Italy. Winter break was about to be over, after all. So, you showed up at the train station with all your bags and a little sleep deprived.

“I was about to call the police. I thought you were bailing on us.” Your friend says as a greeting, helping you with your bags. “You look like shit.”

“Oh, thank you, how sweet of you.” You roll your eyes but let her kiss your cheek. “I’ve been a little busy with the new season starting in a couple of weeks.”

“Let’s not talk about work,” You get on the train after her, looking for your seats and the rest of the group. “we actually told the same thing to Charles.”

You’re about to ask her what does she mean by that when you see the brown hair of Charles Leclerc. The next thing you see is his smile, dimples on display.

Since you started working with Charles as Media — then when you were promoted to PR Officer — there has not been a day you two haven't been together or communicating one way or another. So, anyone can say that becoming friends was bound to happen.

You make your way to him without a second thought.

"Hey, Charlie." Charles moves to the side, leaving the spot beside him free for you to sit. Which you immediately do.

"Are you excited?" He asks, turning his whole attention to you.

You have to look away, his green eyes looking at you so intensely that you feel he can see right through you into your soul.

"I've never skied before." You admit, cheeks flushed.

Charles' eyebrows shot up, his eyes flashing with enthusiasm. "Oh, you're gonna have so much fun."

The train starts moving, making you both look outside. You weren't planning on sitting with Charles, but you're not gonna stand up and leave him. Not that you actually want that.

You're about to ask him about the place you're going to spend the next days in when a yawn messes up everything.

Charles smiles softly at you, his hand patting your knee. He leaves it there for one, two, three, four seconds before removing it.

"It's not that far, really. But you could—" He clears his throat, eyes darting around. "I've been told my shoulder is the best spot to take a nap. It’s like very comfortable." Charles has a teasing but shy smile on his face, gaze finally landing on you.

You feel your face burning. You don't even need to look at yourself in a mirror to know how red your face is, probably the same color as his racing suit.

You look between his shoulder and his eyes, pretending to think about it when, in reality, you've made up your mind the second he stopped talking.

"I don't wa—"

Charles shakes his head, moving a little closer until your left side is touching his right one, not a breeze could pass between you.

You sigh, fidgeting with your fingers as you let your head rest on his shoulder. His scent hits you immediately, is calming, warm, earthy. And it reminds you of the cabin in the woods you and your family used to spend winters in when you were a kid. Surrounded by tall, green trees and a still lake.

The last thing you feel before falling asleep is Charles resting his head on top of yours.

*

"I can't do it. No, nope." You say, trying to move away, but the skis don't let you go that far.

"Yes, you can." Charles says from behind, startling you. You weren't expecting him to stay behind with you and your Ski instructor. "Just— let me." He tells the instructor, urging him to move out of the way.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m teaching you the basics,” He explains casually, as if you don’t have a certified instructor waiting a few meters away.

You smile when he positions himself by your side, too busy trying to make you stand correctly to notice how fondly you're looking at him.

"So, you need to bend your knees a little," You don't know if he notices, but his hands finding your waist to help you move just like he wants you to, send a shiver down your body. You can feel his warmth even through the layers of clothes. "Just like that, yes. You're doing great." Can he shut up? If he's going to praise you every time you do something right, you're not going to survive.

You look over your shoulder when you hear your friend's voices. You catch the exact moment they see you two and stop walking to turn around and go back to where they were before.

"Now, lean forward." Charles instructs you and you follow. Trying to regulate your breathing but with Charles so close to you is an impossible task. "Amazing!" You just leaned. It’s not that hard. "I need to— um... excuse me." He whispers, lowering one of his hand to your thigh and spreading your legs a little. When Charles looks up, his cheeks are tinted with a pretty pink color. You know you're blushing too.

Charles keeps on teaching you the basics. You even move a few meters with him by your side, his hands on your waist at all times.

"You're ready." The Monégasque says, smiling. "You are a fast learner, is she not?" From the first time in what feels like a lifetime, he asks the instructor, who is immediately moving closer.

"Of course," The man says, a polite smile directed at you. "Now we can slide down the mountain. And I'm going to be by your side at all times, so, you don’t need to worry."

You nod, excited to start skiing. Finally.

"You can go, Mr. Leclerc." The Italian man says. But Charles doesn’t move, he just keeps on looking at you, hands still on your waist. At this point you feel like they belong there. “Uh, Mr. Leclerc?” He insists. This time Charles looks at him, shaking his head to rearrange his thoughts. “If you want to go, I’ll take care of her.”

“Oh, yes! Sure, yeah.” Charles pulls away, leaving the ghost of his touch behind. “You’re gonna be alright?”

“I’m sure I’ll survive, Charlie.” He makes you chuckle. “I had a pretty good instructor and I have another one ready to catch me if I fall.”

It looks like Charles wants to say something else but chooses not to and, instead, looks at you one final time before sliding down the mountain.

“So, let’s go?” Your instructor positions himself by your side in the same spot Charles was before.

He doesn’t touch you like Charles did. And you don’t feel as safe as you felt with Charles by your side.

#2

It’s Ferrari SF-24 Launch day. Winter's break is over and Charles is back in Maranello.

Charles hasn’t seen you since yesterday evening, after spotting you having dinner with members of the PR team and, without thinking so much about it, walked into the restaurant. Someone invited him and he didn't hesitate to grab a chair and sit by your side.

It was a very pleasant dinner. And Charles didn't let anyone pay for it.

You said your goodbyes after that and you made sure to remind him that he needed to be before 8:00 AM for the launch, and to have time to go over all the details of what Charles needed to do that day.

That’s most definitely the only explanation as to why Charles is getting out of his car at 7:15 in the morning. Not because he wants to see you, of course not. It’s just because he has a lot of things to do. It’s an important day, after all.

“Good morning.” Charles greets some people of the team that are passing by, rushing to get everything ready for the launch in less than an hour.

He’s in a good mood. He just knows it’s going to be a great day. Charles also knows it’s gonna be his year.

"You're early."

Charles turns around at the sound of your voice. He finds you checking the time on your watch, a teasing smile adorning those plump, pink lips of yours.

"You said before eight."

You laugh, walking down the hallway. "Yeah, but not so early." He follows you, trying to catch up with you. "However, I'm glad you decided to show up on time, we have a lot to do."

"I wanna go back to sleep." He complains, pouting like a child.

He makes you laugh, again. Charles thinks your laugh is his favorite sound in the world. Beside the sound of the SF-24.

Charles really likes to make you laugh.

"Wait, are you laughing at me?" He pretends to be offended, and you mimic the sound of his voice, bringing your hand to your chest.

"Me? Never!"

"You sure?" He stops walking, stopping right in front of you. "Because you know what I'm gonna do if you're actually laughing at me?"

You look at him suspiciously, fighting the smile that wants to make its way into your face.

Charles takes a step towards you, making you take a step back.

"Charles, whatever you're thinking—don't."

"What? I'm not doing anything!" He sounds innocent, even raising his hands in surrender. But he's still walking towards you, shortening the distance until he's so close you can count the freckles on his face.

Before you notice what's happening, he's tickling you.

It makes you throw all the things you had on your hands to the floor. You try to pull away and make him stop, but he just keeps going.

Your laugh fills the hallway you're currently in.

But you can't take it anymore, your stomach hurting for laughing so much. It’s also only a matter of time before someone comes to see what's happenig, so, you do the only thing your brain can conjure up to make him stop: hit him. Even if it's just a little push.

You raise your arms, ready to push him and defend yourself. But Charles reflexes are good and so fast, because before you can do anything, he's grabbing your wrists stopping you.

Your laugh dies in your throat.

Charles amusement is clear on his face, eyes shining with mirth.

"You are," You take a deep breath, trying to regulate your rapid breathing. "a very bad man."

He laughs, throwing his head backwards. "I'm just defending my honor, boss."

You shake your head, throwing daggers at him with your eyes. But Charles doesn’t react at all, he just caresses the inside of your wrists with his thumb.

“I promise to behave if you don’t laugh at me again.” He pouts, and your heart does a black flip inside your chest, skipping several beats.

Hesitantly, you reach out to rest a hand on his chest, giving him a little playful push. You’re not sure if you imagine the shiver you feel under your hand or if it really happens.

You chuckle, looking straight into his eyes. “I can’t make that promise.”

Charles lets go of your wrists against his will. He bends over to pick up the things you were carrying, but doesn’t give them back to you.

“If we end up getting scolded, I’m blaming you.”

Charles looks at you for what feels like hours, taking you in. He really thinks he could just watch you all day and he’d find a new freckle on your face, or a glint in your eyes he hadn’t seen before.

He leans in, so, so close, that feels your breath hitch. Charles thinks you’re gonna pull away for a second but you don’t make a move, you just keep looking at him with a indescribable expression.

“You can do whatever you want. I’ll take it.” He says in your ear, kissing your cheek before pulling away.

You stop breathing, all you can do is blink at him while your mind echoes his words.

“Shall we?”

Charles doesn’t wait for you, he resumes his walking anyway. It takes you a long time to snap out of it and follow him.

You can’t even remember what you are supposed to be doing today.

#3

It’s day two of pre-season testing in Bahrain.

You’re in the middle of talking with a reporter about the questions he can ask Charles when you are interrupted by a hand being placed on your lower back. You immediately recognize the perfume.

"Hey, I was looking for you." Charles says, fingers caressing the spot between your shirt and your trousers. His calloused hand drawing patters on your lower back shouldn't make you feel as flustered as you feel. It's not the first time he does it, so why can't you just act normal?

"Hey, Charles." The reporter says, drawing the Monégasque's attention. "Can I ask you just a few questions about second day of testing?" He doesn't need to ask him, you already agreed about it.

Charles look at you, silently asking if it's okay.

"Just testing, okay?" You tell the reporter, who nods in understanding, already moving in front of Charles alongside his camera man.

Charles squeezes your waist before giving two pats on your lower back, so low that he's almost touching your ass. You eyes widen and you take a sharp intake of breath. You really try to play it cool. But you can tell Charles noticed your reaction when you see the smirk on his beautiful, stupid face.

The reporter begins with the first question, Charles' eyes only snapping to him when the man draws his attention.

You don't listen to one single question, which is, you know, an idiotic mistake because being alert of what a reporter's asking is basically your job. But you find yourself looking at Charles' lips more than one time during the six minutes the interview lasts.

You can't do nothing more than to stand there frozen in place.

The reporter thanks Charles, that much you hear, but you still can't seem to snap back to the present. What is Charles doing? He's being extra touchy lately, not that it bothers you, but you can't seem to focus in anything when he has a hand on any part of your body. Then, add that intense gaze that, apparently, has reserved for you only.

Charles is definitely going to be the death of you.

"You seem to have your head in the clouds." Charles' accented voice is what draws you back to reality.

"What?"

What he does next is definitely something you were not expecting, not now, not even in a million years.

Charles cups your chin with his right hand, thumb brushing your bottom lip. If you weren't hyper aware of every little movement, you wouldn't have felt it.

Your gaze drops to his lips and Charles has the nerve to stick his tongue out to lick his lips. They look so wet and inviting, all you need to do is move an inch closer and lean in to—

"See something you like?"

You feel your heartbeat in your ears, so loud you're pretty sure everyone in Bahrain can hear it. Charles waits for your answer as you panic, replaying his words over, and over again for minutes or hours — you don't even know.

You take Charles' hand and guide it away from your face. It takes all the willpower inside of you to let go of his hand and run away from him.

#4

It wasn't a great start of the season. Everyone agrees on that. Even the boy stepping out of the Ferrari, who started the first race of the season in front row and had such a hard time trying to drive and secure a spot on the podium.

You are glad at least one Ferrari got there in the end. But you're not as happy as you'd be if Charles was the one standing there.

Charles takes his helmet and balaclava off, his messy hair standing in every direction while sweat runs down his face. You force yourself to look away.

He makes his way to you, given that you have his cap and rings. Charles really tries to smile at you, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

You know how disappointed he is. With himself and his team. Mostly with himself.

“Just a few questions and then you’ll be on your way to the hotel, okay?” Charles just nods, busy putting all his rings and bracelets on.

Charles feels like shit. All he wants to do is go back to the hotel and sleep, he doesn't even want to know what happened or how they can fix it for next week. He wants to sleep.

"Hey," You stand a little closer, not thinking about anything but trying to make him talk, say anything to pull him out of his head. "It's just the first race of the season. There are a lot more to go." You rub the back of his neck, feeling the hairs there stand up.

Charles closes his eyes and lets his head fall forward. So, you take it as a good sing to keep rubbing and massaging.

Charles groans when you rub between his neck and shoulder, a very sensitive spot for him. He slowly opens his eyes again, looking at you from beneath his eyelashes.

"Come on, let's finish with this and get you to bed." You tentatively slide your hand over his shoulder and left side of his body, stopping at his waist to wrap an arm around it.

For the first time since the race finished, you see a smile forming on his lips. When you make eye contact, you know he has the perfect answer for it and, for the looks of it, it's definitely going to leave you flustered.

"If you wanted me in your bed that badly, all you had to do was ask."

It definitely makes you flush furiously, but you decide not to say anything. Mostly because you don't know what to say. Charles has been saying all these things for a very long time now and you don't know what it means, what he's playing at.

You let go of Charles when you reach the reporter, moving a little to the side to give them some space. The reporter knows what to ask but you still are on high alert, she's known for asking rude and out of place questions.

At first everything goes alright, so, you use that time to answer some messages and check out some emails. Until what the woman says next, makes your heart drop.

"You say you are capable, but it is your fault alm—" You don't let her finish, you interrupt the interview immediately by standing in front of Charles, like trying to shield him from the hurtful words of an unprofessional reporter.

"I'll make sure you receive a fine for that." It's all you say before blindly reaching for Charles.

You take his hand, dragging him out of there. You don't stop for nothing, not when a reporter asks for an interview, not when fans approach Charles to ask for pictures.

You keep walking and walking until you are in front of Charles' driver room. Your heart is hammering inside your chest, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

"I'm going to talk to—"

Charles grabs your shoulders, turning you around so you're looking at him. "Don't worry about it. You know I don't care about what they say."

His words make you angry.

"But I care!" You exclaim, immediately regretting it. The corners of Charles' mouth go downwards, and he steps closer. "She deserves that fine."

"I know she deserves it and she will get it," His hands trail over your arms, stopping at your wrists for a second before holding your hands. "but right now I need a hug."

You blink up at him.

"Would you hug me?"

He doesn't need to ask twice. You are moving before you actually process his words, probably because you've been thinking about hugging him since the first time he announced over the radio how the brakes where not responding to him.

Sliding your hand around his shoulders comes like a second nature to you, like is something you've done your whole life. You don't care that he's drenched in sweat, you hide your face in the crook of his neck anyways. And it's then that you learn how much you like the mixture of his scent with the sweat of racing for over two hours.

Charles wraps his arms around your waist, hugging you tightly against his body. It's then that he learns how well you fit against his body. Like you belong there. He knows you belong in his arms.

#5

Charles finished third.

It's his first podium of the season.

You wait by the side but he doesn't see you. He has the most pretty and bright smile on his face as he removes the balaclava from his head. He has the most pretty and bright smile when he greets and congratulates Max and Checo.

And you really think that his smiles widens when he finally looks to the side, right where you are alongside his Ferrari team.

Charles makes his way to his team. Everyone is so happy cheering for him and congratulating him for his first podium. Everyone is happy.

But no one can't he as happy as you are.

Not when he sees you for the first time and rushes to hug you. It's quick, not enough, but they're pulling him away for the post-race interview. He needs to go up on that podium and make everyone proud.

*

You’re pretty sure you took like a dozen pictures of Charles on the podium. The ones where he's looking down at his team are your favorites because it looks like he's looking at you.

Post-race Charles is your favorite kind of Charles. But post-race Charles on the podium... that has to be what being in heaven feels like.

You laugh as you see him approaching hospitality with his trophy and champagne, and a broad smile spread over his face.

He's surrounded by people in a matter of seconds, as wells as Ollie by his side who can't seem to stop smiling. You're very proud of them.

When you see a few reporters approaching, you take into action.

The second Charles sees you, he's forgetting about anything and everyone around him. All he wants is to hug you and tell you how well and right it felt, but there are so many people that he has to settle with you grabbing the hem of his race suit to make him walk into hospitality, away from everyone.

"Go take a shower. Your team wants to celebrate, even Carlos wants to go." You smile up at him.

You don't know how to describe the expression on his face, so, you simply don't.

He snaps out of a his trance and makes his way to his driver room, but when you call his name he stops, turning around so fast that his neck starts to hurt.

"I'm so proud of you, Charlie."

Charles doesn't care if the trophy or the champagne bottle breaks, he just let them fall to the floor and runs to you, lifting you in his arms.

You giggle, feeling light as a feather. Like you're actually on cloud nine.

"Charlie!" Andrea's voice startles the both of you.

You are forced to pull away, but Charles leaves his hand on your waist, not letting you go completely.

"Come on, hurry up! We want to celebrate."

Andrea doesn't bat an eye, he doesn't care that he found you and Charles in a compromising position — kind of? well, it definitely is unprofessional — and that you still are very close to each other.

Charles groans and lets you go. You miss his touch already.

"Don't drink too much, okay?"

"As if I would let him." Andrea says, rolling his eyes.

"I'm a grown man!" Charles screams before shutting the door of his room.

+1

You're watching a movie in bed — wrapped in a hotel bathrobe, freshly out of the shower, with a delicious lotion on your body and feeling like a pampered baby — when there's a knock on your door.

When you open the door, you find a disheveled and out of breathe Charles standing there, leaning against the opposite wall.

"Charles?" You ask, confused.

You look to both sides of the hallway but nobody else is there.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were out celebrating."

"I was—" He says, breathing heavily. "I was but then I just — I realized that I didn't want to be there."

"Okay?" You're not getting any of what he's saying, more confused than ever. "Are you drunk?"

"No! I barely drank anything. It was just a glass."

"Then," You shrug, looking behind you into the room. "I was watching a movie. Do you... want to come in?"

You still don't know why he knocked on your door, but you are not letting him out in the hallway.

Charles accepts the invitation. Just not in the way you would've thought.

It takes you a second to notice a pair soft lips against your own. But when you finally register that you are being kissed, Charles is pulling away from you, a shy smile on his face.

"What are you doing?" You ask, trying to find some coherent words in your fuzzy brain.

Charles' face falls, shoulder slumping slightly. "Oh, shit. I'm so sorry." He starts rambling, moving his hands in the air. "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking properly. I thought—we had, I mean... You and—"

You couldn't take it anymore. You needed to take him out of his misery. That's definitely the only reason why you crashed your lips with his, pressing yourself against his body.

Charles moves quickly, walking you backwards into the room and closing the door with his foot.

You sigh into the kiss. A sigh that says finally.

"I think," You whisper against his lips, gasping for air. But Charles keeps on assaulting your lips. "we should talk ab—"

Charles groans pulling away, just enough to talk, lips brushing against yours with every breath. "We could. Or I could show you all the things I've been dreaming on doing to you, and we can talk later."

Your heart starts thumping so fast that your breath hitches in your throat. Charles takes your silence, and your body's reaction, as a yes.

This time, Charles takes his time. He cups your cheek with one hand, thumb caressing your cheekbone so softly — as if you’re made of glass and could break at any moment — and sliding lower, the pad of his finger brushing against your bottom lip.

"You're so beautiful." He whispers, gaze fixed on your plump lips.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since…” You try try to think about it, to remember the very first time you thought about Charles being more than a friend. But it seems like it has always been that way.

“Forever.” Charles finishes for you.

Yes! Your insides scream.

“Would you let me show you?”

You frown, titling your hear to the side. “What?”

“How much I want you.”

There’s no need to verbally say yes, you find that is so much better if you show him. So, you kiss him.

Kissing Charles feels like walking in a soft, pillowy cloud, like everything is falling back into place, like things are how they always should have been.

There is warmth blossoming in your chest, fireworks exploding all around you as Charles leans in closer, lips exploring each other for the first time. You hold onto Charles' shoulder as if you're gonna fall and wake up, realize that this was just a dream. You don't want it to be a dream.

You let him guide you to the bed as his hands rest on your hips, wrinkling the bathrobe with his hands.

His lips are soft yet the kiss is demanding. Your lips part slightly, allowing Charles' tongue to slip inside and explore your mouth.

When the back of your knees hit the mattress, he pulls away. His pupils are dilated and his breathing erratic. "You don't—" He sighs, closing his eyes as if trying and ground himself. Charles takes your hand, silently asking for permission and, when you nod, guides it to his crotch, making you feel how hard he is. "You don't even know the effect you have on me."

Charles doesn't give you time to answer, not even to think about anything but how much you want to kiss him, and feel him, and be his.

"Can I unfasten this?" He asks, lips trailing kisses down your neck. You nod your approval, but Charles shakes his head. "I need words, baby."

"Yes," You don't recognize your own voice, it's feels strange to your ears. "Yes, you can."

Charles smiles, grazing his teeth along your neck, nipping and sucking along the way. You moan when he sucks right above your pulse point.

He takes his time unfastening your bathrobe, letting it fall slowly the floor. In seconds, you're completely bare in front of him. You should feel ashamed, a part of you actually feels embarrassed to be naked in front on a man — in front of Charles. But right now, desire and longing are coursing through your veins, clouding your mind. Your body screams for Charles.

Charles hands are soft on your skin, he splays them on your chest, feeling the thumping of your heart; it makes him smile.

"Would you lay down for me?" He purrs. And who are you to say no?

With shaky legs you climb onto the bed, lying down against the pillows. You can still hear the movie playing in the background, but you couldn't care less, not right now.

You can only watch as Charles removes every piece of clothing from his body. You knew Charles was well toned, you have seen Charles without a shirt, but seeing him here in your room, in a whole different context, makes you close your legs and lift your hips from the bed, searching for something, anything that only Charles can give you.

He rubs his hands up your legs, rubbing your thighs, as he climbs on top of you. His lips find yours one more time, your breath quivering.

"So pretty." Charles grunts, basking in your beauty. It lasts only a couple of seconds because you hide behind your hands. "No need to hide, baby." He pulls your hands away, sliding them over your collarbone, stopping on your chest and grabbing your breasts.

You arch your back against his touch, moans spilling from your mouth and filling the room.

"So good, so, so good." You blurt out, getting lost in the pleasure his hands are giving you, pinching and squeezing your breasts. One of his hands is replaced for his mouth, and you have to force yourself to open your eyes to see the view of Charles on top of you, making you come undone with his mouth.

His left hand leaves your breast as his mouth keeps the assault on your breast, he slowly lowers it to part your legs, making you squirm.

You've never been this wet before, and Charles notices the moment his fingers make contact with your cunt. Charles begins to rub circles on your throbbing clit, a desperate whine escaping your lips.

"Please," You beg, the only word leaving your lips over and over again.

Charles takes pity on you, knowing exactly what you need. So, he gives it to you; one of his fingers slips in, causing you to buck your hips involuntarily.

"So good for me." Charles croons, taking your lips with his own, swallowing all your moans. "You think you can take my cock, pretty girl?" He asks, slipping in another finger, pressing them upward. Your brain feels fuzzy, but in such a good way. You don't need to be asked twice, a yes leaves you lips immediately as you grind your hips desperately into his hand.

"I can, Charles—please I can take it." You moan, making Charles slow his movements.

Charles pulls out his fingers, and you whine desperately at the loss. "I got you, baby." But then a thought crosses his mind and he curses under his breath, closing his eyes for a second. "I don't—shit I don't have a condom."

You make grabby hands, making him lean forward so you can touch him. You cup his face with your hands, eyes finding his green ones. There's sweat on his forehead, his face flushed, and you think that post-race Charles and bedroom Charles are definitely battling to win first place.

"We're both clean, I know." You graze your fingers over his pecs, making him shudder. "Just—please, Charlie. I need you."

Who is he to say no to you?

The mere thought of fucking you bare is enough to send his mind reeling.

Charles aligns himself between your legs, the tip of his cock gathering your wetness and making you both moan at the feeling.

You dig your nails in his shoulder as he slowly starts to bury himself inside of you. Charles leans to kiss you, and is messy and wet, tongues and spit mix together as you tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling ever so slightly, which makes him moan against your mouth. So you do it again.

Charles kisses you with so much desperation, desire consuming you both. He bottoms out and you can't reciprocate the kiss anymore, not when he stars slamming his hips, setting an agonizing pace.

Charles fucks you into the bed wincing as he feels you bite his shoulder, a poor attempt of trying not to scream and let the whole hotel floor know what you are doing.

"How does it feel? Is that what you wanted, uh?" He groans, brushing a strand of hair out of your sweaty face.

"Yeah, feels so good, Char. So good." Your whole body is burning, you feel so deliciously filled.

Charles bends your legs, pushing them against your chest as he finds a new angle to keep on fucking you. He starts thrusting faster, holding onto your legs so hard you know there will be bruises tomorrow.

It's too much. You don't even have time nor words to warn him before you are coming, clenching around Charles' cock.

"So tight. So. Fucking. Tight." Charles whispers, pace faltering as he feels his own climax approaching. He keeps thrusting into you, chasing his own orgasm.

You are a moaning, whimpering mess, and you let Charles use you as much as he likes, you let it know that over and over again.

"That's it, baby. 'm gonna come now," Those are Charles' final words as he pulls out, pumping himself a few more times until he's painting your chest with his cum.

Charles plops down on the bed next to you, both panting and completely exhausted.

"Are you okay?" He asks in a hoarse voice.

You turn to look at him, fingers playing with his cum on your chest. The only thing you can do is nod, too exhausted to even to talk.

"What? Did I fuck your brains out?" Charles teases, leaning in to leave a chaste kiss to your lips. It's so innocent and soft, the total opposite of what you did just moments ago.

"Shut up!" You breathe out, giggling. There is still a buzzing in your ears and a tingling sensation in your cunt. But you feel good.

"Come on," He says, standing up and reaching for your hands.

You frown, standing on shaky legs. He teases you some more and you end up pushing him away.

"What are we doing?"

"Taking a bath," He explains, tugging at your hand. "We need to clean you up."

"I just took a shower, this is all your fault." You complain, his green eyes boring into you.

"You liked it." It's not a question.

He tugs at your hand again and you follow, you really would follow Charles to the end of the world. Charles can't hide the big, stupid smile on his face. "You said you were watching a movie, so, we are going to watch a movie."

© verstappen-cult, 2024 — do not repost, translate or claim any of my works as your own.

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱ #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x you #f1 grid x reader

[sinsandsweetness]

“consequences” - part 4 of PICK YOUR POISON - (a dads best friends love story)

part 1, 2, and 3

pairing- (Rick x fem!reader)

warnings- 18+ content, age gap, smut, needy + desperate reader, sneaky sex, almost getting caught, unprotected p in v, light choking, mutual pining, cream pie, poorly proofread. wc 3.9k

notes- i know this took forever, so thank you all for the patience. i rewrote this like three or four times because i just wasn’t as happy with it as i am with the first three parts. i’m pretty happy with it now but I feel it isn’t as playful as the first three. regardless, please tell me what you think:) comments and reblogs are always incredibly appreciated and your feedback means a lot to me <3 enjoy!

3 weeks.

That’s how long it took you to break him. Since that day up in your room, during the barbecue. When he was insistent on showing you how much better he could take care of you than anyone else could. 3 weeks from then is when you finally broke him. And who’d have thought it’d be in your own home, with your dad passed out on the main floor. Unaware of the downright filth happening upstairs in your bedroom. Filth that if he ever found out, would send him into cardiac arrest. Though you’re always careful, and to you, the risk is definitely worth the reward.

But it’s not like you haven’t had a couple close calls. Stolen kisses and flirty glances can’t go unnoticed forever. Your father hasn’t ever said anything. Even when he can see Rick’s hands on your waist, lingering a minute too long. Or the way you always sit right next to him. Pressed up as close as humanly possible. Practically in his lap. Well... sometimes actually in his lap. Your father’s not stupid. But, he’s also not exactly the most confrontational man. And he’s never actually caught you. There’s been no real confirmation of his suspicions. Until today that is.

After a long day of work at your dads construction site, Rick arrives at your house before any of the others. Freshly showered with a case of beer. It’s just you and him in the kitchen. Making small talk as he tries to pretend there isn’t a band of tension pulling the two of you closer and closer with every meaningless question.

“Didn’t know you were coming over,” you say, chopping up some vegetables on a cutting board. Glancing up at Rick who can’t seem to look you in the eyes. Distracted by the tiny little outfit you have on. A skirt, despite the brisk weather. A tight, fitted long sleeve that’s pushing your breasts together in the most enticing way possible. No bra. Clearly. And then there’s the best part. The part he keeps glancing down at while licking his lips and taking in a deep breath. Your thigh highs. White knit thigh high socks that make him want to pin you up against the counter and fuck you then and there.

“I uh- your dad told us to come for some drinks,” he looks up at you again, this time you’re leaning against the island, brushing your hands together to dry them off.

“So… where’s my dad then?” You ask, stepping even closer to the man. Too close, you realize at the hitch of his breath.

It’s been a really long 3 weeks.

“Uh- I imagine he got sidetracked. I know Maggie was looking for him. Probably caught up in conversation.”

“And Shane? Daryl?”

“On their way.”

“Hmm.” You hum. You’re right in front of him now. You can smell his cologne and the shampoo he uses. Damp curls forming at the base of his neck. Casual black jeans on, and a simple grey tee shirt. He places the case of beer right next to you on the counter, stepping in close so he’s pressed up against you. Trapped between his warm body and the cool marble.

You stay like that for a moment. Both of your minds going back to the night last week that you snuck out. To what happened in that truck. But more importantly what didn’t happen. What you’ve been praying would happen for weeks.

Finally he leans in, pressing a sweet little kiss to the corner of your lips before dipping lower. Breathing in your perfume.

“Missed you,” he admits into your neck. The warmth of his breath sends little pinpricks down your arms.

You breath in a quiet gasp when he kisses your neck. Warm, soft lips making their way down to your collarbone. His hands on either side of your waist, planting you against the counter.

God, you want him so bad it hurts.

Your hand goes to the back of his neck, pulling him up so his lips are forced against yours. Kissing him with the same fervor and necessity that had been building all month. Since that very first kiss in your dads garage. Since that day at the barbecue when Rick took you upstairs and showed you how much better he is at making your legs shake than Shane. Since the pool party, the day you were a complete tease and they all knew it. When Rick decided to take you down to the pool shed and teach you a lesson. You had no idea fingers could even feel that good. But Rick’s do. Everything Rick does, feels good to you.

And then, there was the night last week. The one that both of you have been thinking about every hour since.

You’d snuck out your bedroom window just to see him. To go for a drive and park on the side of the road. You kissed him til your lips were swollen and your panties were soaking through.

You know he’s wanted you from the very start. When he first met your dad and started coming over. Well before you’d ever kissed him. Showed interest in him. But that night, it hit him. How much he wants you to himself. How much he loves being alone with you. Just you. But no matter how tempted he may have seemed, he still refused to break the agreement. He still wouldn’t fuck you.

Yet.

“Rick-“ you gasp against his lips as he pulls you up onto the counter, your legs immediately wrapping around his waist. Skirt riding up to expose your lacy panties. You can feel him against you. How badly he wants you. How hard he is for you. How hard he’s been every night since the night you snuck out to see him. Touching himself to the thought of you, wishing he’d just fucked you then, on the side of the highway in the dead of night. Just you and him and the stars acting as the only witnesses to your risky little love affair.

“Want you,” you say against his lips, his hand starting to gently wrap around the front of your throat. His other arm pulls you in by the waist so you’re completely flush with his chest.

“Want you so bad,”

But before he can mumble a response into your mouth, both of you hear the garage door open. You both freeze. Eyes going wide, you slide off the counter, immediately pulling your skirt back to an appropriate length. Rick rubs a hand over his face, turning the other direction. Giving you a moment of privacy to get yourself situated and to deal with the tent in the front of his jeans.

Your father walks in first.

You can't even look at him. Blush so very apparent on your pretty face as you look down at the cutting board, pretending to be occupied with the assortment of vegetables. Daryl and Shane head straight for the fridge. Only giving you a smirk of acknowledgment as their gaze is darting in between you and Rick.

Your father notices. The way you won’t look him in the eye. The way Rick is nervously running a hand through his hair and how his eyes keep darting over to you. He sees it. He’s not stupid. But for whatever reason, he doesn’t say anything. He just stalks over and slaps Rick on the back with a, “thanks man, really needed this after the week we’ve had.”

Rick nods in agreement, taking a sip of the bottle your father just handed him. Rick looks over at you. Something unspoken behind his eyes that you can’t quite make out. Yeah, it’s been a long week indeed.

You don’t stay downstairs long. When Shane and your father start getting all loud and rowdy in the living room, the empty bottles of their fifth beers being knocked over onto the hardwood as their play fight begins, that’s when you decide to head upstairs with a quick wave, “g’night.” Rick is the only one who catches it. Nodding back at you as you climbed the stairs. Watching you sway your hips with every step. Skirt so short that the bottom of your ass cheeks are on full display.

You try sleeping. But every time you close your eyes you see Rick. That night in his truck. Straddling his waist and unbuckling his belt. The way he kissed you so deep. Filled with so much lust. So much need. You’d never felt that before. And even though he told you exactly how bad he wanted you, he didn’t have to. You could feel it. With every touch. Every kiss. That’s why it surprised you when you tried to go all the way and he still wanted to stop you.

“Not like this. I can’t- I'm… we’re not doin’ it like this.”

“Why?” You were out of breath, still trying at his belt but his hand came down to stop you, firmly calling your name. Grabbing your full attention to his stormy blues.

“We’re on the side of the road for christs sake. It should be- fuck. We should be at home in a real bed. Not sneaking around in some beater pickup in the middle of nowhere-”

“Rick-”

“No.”

“This is perfect.” You tried to assure him.

He sighed and pulled your forehead against his, catching your lips before mumbling, “You’re perfect.”

“I want this. I want you.”

“I know. And you have no idea how badly I want this too. But I can’t. I just- we can’t.”

He still made you come. Regardless of the fact that he wouldn’t fuck you. He wasn’t going to let you go home without a proper orgasm.

But you needed more. Needed him.

And now, laying in bed, reliving the scene in your head with your hands trailing down to your panties, you’re soaking right through. Your stomach doing backflips at the memory of his hands roaming your body in the dark.

With a frustrated groan, you sit up. Fuck. A cold shower is what you really need.

You get up and open your bedroom door, immediately met with the sight of Rick on the top step of the stairs. He’s got his index pressed to his lips when he sees you. Telling you to be quiet. Hush.

He’s smiling behind his hand. Dropping it as he reaches your bedroom door. He brings his arm up to the doorway, leaning on it. Other hand sporting a half empty bottle of beer. You wonder how many he’s had.

“They’re all passed out on the couch aren’t they?” You ask, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorway. Arms only inches from his chest.

“How’d you guess?”

“Well… it’s quiet, for one,” you turn around and head to your bed, sitting down and waiting for him to follow.

He does.

“And two… you’re here.” You say.

“I am.”

He sits down. A quiet moment passes and he takes another swig of beer before placing the bottle on your nightstand.

“Y’know, if you really don’t wanna sleep with me, you should probably stop inviting yourself into my bedroom. It’s sending some pretty mixed signals.”

He chuckles at your comment. “Mixed signals huh?” His hand goes to your leg, tracing the band of your thigh highs. You’re no longer wearing your skirt. Just panties, socks and an ex-boyfriend's baggy tee shirt.

“Yeah,”

“I was thinkin’ the same thing about you, sweetheart,” his hand makes its way up your thigh. His palm is rough against your smooth skin, the attention sending a jolt straight between your legs.

“How so?”

“Shane? Daryl?” He says it like it’s obvious. You fooling around with the other best friends.

“That’s different.” You look up at him now, the tiniest scowl on your face.

“How so?” His tone is soft but it’s clear he’s mocking you.

You open your mouth to respond but something stops you. Deep breath. You’re looking at his lips now. And he knows it.

“I wanted you, y’know. They’re fun and all but…“ you swallow. You need Rick. From the very start it’s been pretty obvious that you like him best. Always sitting next to him, as close as you can get. There’s just something different about Rick. The way he makes you feel. The way he was so quick to claim you. How he’s possessive and attentive and so insanely infatuated by you. It’s just… different. You can’t explain it.

“But what?” His nose is nearly touching yours at this point. One hand on your thigh and the other one reaching for your face. Thumb running across your jaw as you lean in.

You’re voice is quiet when you finally speak.

“I want you.”

He lips graze yours and you have a feeling that he heard you this time. Like, really fucking heard you. Not just the words leaving your mouth, but everything else that you’re trying to say. The way your heart is beating fast and you’re breathing is all shallowed. How he can see every nervous little tic that goes through you as he leans in to kiss you.

So he gives in. Reluctantly of course. If asking, “you sure about this?,” while peeling your panties down your legs is considered reluctant. Or worriedly whispering that “we could get caught,” while tossing your shirt across the room and leaning down to suckle at your breasts, nipping and sucking a few little love bites where no one else will see but him. Because that’s so very reluctant of him.

His hands are wrapped around your waist as he kisses down your stomach. Soft lips making their way down between your legs, propping one of your legs up and kissing your inner thigh. He takes his time, biting your leg and dragging his teeth down your sensitive skin. The action makes you whine, hands going straight to his curls.

“Rick just- c’mon,”

“Why don’t you just lay back and look pretty, huh?”

“Rick-” you’re on fire. Need pulsing through your bloodstream with every touch. His hands are holding your hips to the mattress, preventing them from squirming around. The featherlight kisses he’s peppering over your clit are bordering on the side of torture. You know he’s just trying to take his time. To savour the feeling and drag it on. Make it last and make it special. But he doesn’t realize how badly you need him to push your knees to your chest and fuck you til you’re a moaning mess.

“Rick.” You tug on his hair, trying to get him to just fuck you already. You’ve been waiting over a month for this. And judging by the arousal dripping onto your pink, cotton sheets, you definitely don’t need the foreplay.

“Maybe you’d get what you want if you used your manners a little more. Ever thought of that?” He looks up at you. And despite his words, he follows the hand urging him to come up and kiss your lips. To replace his shoulders with his hips in between your legs.

“Please,” you breath out. If manners is all he wants, then you’re a lucky girl. You’d tell him whatever he wants to hear if it mean he’ll fuck you. “Please, please, just fuck me, just-”

“God, you’re such a brat,” he cuts you off with a kiss, you’re legs instinctively wrapping around his clothed torso. And the feeling of his denim against your bare clit isn’t helping your incredibly desperate situation.

You reach for his belt mid kiss and you can tell that his instincts are telling him to stop you. To tell you that you’re dad’s downstairs and that it’s wrong. But with his forehead pressed against yours, warm breath fanning over your lips he dips down to kiss your neck. He doesn’t stop you. He lets you unbuckle his belt and push his jeans down, enough to reach his cock, standing tall and eager. You tug on his tee shirt and he helps you take it off, throwing it onto the pile of both your clothes building on your floor. You pull him in close with your legs, knitted socks all soft against his bare back, almost locking him into place. Your hands are on his jaw, pulling him in as you bite his bottom lip, gently dragging it out and earning a groan. At the same time, he lines himself up with your aching cunt. He enters you slowly with a muffled moan. A gasp leaves your lips at the stretch. He’s much bigger than anyone you’ve been with. In length and in girth.

Once every thick inch is completely inside of you, he can tell that you need a minute. Your breath is caught in your throat as you adjust to his size.

Well, no going back now.

“You okay?” He asks in between kisses. Keeping his hips still as you get used to the feeling.

You nod, “Just- go slow, ok?”

You can’t help the moan that’s crawling up your throat when he does as you say. Slow, intentional movements in and out. Fuck he’s big. But fuck, does it ever feel good.

“You feel so good,” you tell him. You need to tell him. To let him know how much you love it. How much you needed it. Needed him. “Please don’t ever stop.”

His breathing is heavy. Pushing down the groans and sounds you so desperately wish he would let you hear. He’s trying so hard not to come. You’re so wet. So warm. So tight around his cock and so fucking pretty laying there underneath him. Moaning all sorts of praise.

“You’re so big,”

“Rick, yes.”

“Right there, please.”

“Feels so good,”

And your words add fuel to the fire burning inside of him. The way you’re holding onto his neck, legs locked behind his back. Lips parted in the long awaited bliss of being filled right up. Taking him so well. And he makes sure to tell you it, too.

“That’s it, baby. Doin’ so good,” he kisses you again, “taking me so well.”

There’s a lot of hands. Grabbing at arms, necks, hair, faces. Whatever either of you can reach as he snaps his hips against yours. He’s done going slow. His pace is making your back arch off the bed and guttural, almost pornographic noises start to pour from your lips. Swollen and rosy and constantly catching his with every opportunity.

“Shhhh-“ Rick brings a hand up to your face. Forehead still pressed agains yours as he covers your mouth. “Gonna wake em’ up if you keep making so much noise.”

That’s not the only reason he needs you to shut up. It’s true, but it’s not the only reason.

He can’t take it. Well, at least he doesn’t think he can.

When he pulls out, your eyes go wide. No. Don’t stop. Why the hell is he stopping?

“What- oh.” your head falls back to the pillow at the feeling of his tongue on your clit. His fingers already knuckle deep and curling upwards to hit your sweet spot. Those fucking sounds you’re making are driving him crazy. But at least he knows he can last a little longer this way. Maybe make you come before he fucks you again. A little less pressure to perform when you’re already dumb from his fingers. From his tongue. From the way he’s sucking on your clit and pushing up on your thigh, fingers driving into you so hard you could scream.

You have to cover your own mouth. You know you’re being too noisy. And you also know the last thing either of you want is for your father to wake up to the sound of his daughter getting finger fucked by his best friend. By his friend who’s at least 15 years older than you. The one he’s been suspicious of for a few weeks now, over analyzing the way he looks at you. The way he listens to you. The way he brings you up and asks what you’re up to. All of it. And then earlier. The flushed faces of guilt and embarrassment when he got home in the middle of your moment.

You don’t need any kind of interruption. Anything that might put off the thing you’ve been pining for so badly for so long. But you definitely don’t need the interruption to come hurling up the stairs, drunk and careless and ready to fight.

So you bite your lip til it bleeds. A hot wave of pleasure erupts from your core, and spreads through you like a wildfire. Fuck. Those damn fingers.

Before you can even catch your breath, while your muscles are still twitching from your orgasm, his forearms find their way to either side of your face and he pushes inside of you once again.

“Ohmygod,”

You’re soaking. Both of you can hear it. The sounds of your slick, wet cunt perfectly taking every single thrust. So wet. And all for him.

“Ohmygod,” you repeat, nails raking down his back as he lifts your leg over his shoulder, deepening the angle to something otherworldly. Heaven or paradise or whatever utopia you can think up, couldn’t even compare. Not to this. Not to him. The way his cock kisses your cervix with every snap of his hips. The way his hands are roaming over your body. Trying to touch every square inch he can. The way he’s whispering all that dirty praise, telling you how good you feel. How wet you are for him. How fucking perfect you are. For him. The way he kisses the leg propped up on his shoulder, leaning back to admire what a mess he’s made out of his best friends daughter. So pretty and perfect. All flushed and glowing with a thin sheen of sweat coating your chest. Eyes glossed over in complete and utter ecstasy.

Nothing can compare.

“Rick, I- I-” your voice keeps catching in your throat.

“What? What is it?”

“Rick I- uh,” Ricks thumb runs over your bottom lip, dragging it out.

“I’m gonna come.” Your voice is hushed but your words don’t go unnoticed. Your grip tightens on his shoulders as his long fingers make their way down your body, pushing down on your lower stomach. It’s an intense pressure, sweet and comforting and so fucking enraptured that it brings tears to your eyes.

“God, you’re so pretty. Come for me, baby. Come all over my cock. ” He coaxes it out of you. Sultry moans leave your lips as you both reach your climax. Locking your leg around his waist as he fills you with his seed. Dipping down to press a passionate kiss to your mouth. Tongue tracing your own as his hips stutter to a stop. Heavy breathing with your chests pressed together. Thigh muscles straining from the angle but you can’t find it in you to care. Too overwhelmed by such an incredible high.

He whispers your name against your lips.

“Yeah?” You’re out of breath, doe eyes glancing up at him like he’s some kind of god.

“You are so fucking perfect.”

You know that while he means it, it’s not what he really wants to say. As if it might scare you off if he speaks the truth. If he tells you what he’s really thinking. It won’t. But he doesn’t know that.

Slowly, he pulls out of you. You can’t help but wince at the loss of contact. Leaned back on his knees, Rick tucks himself back into his jeans, forgetting all about his belt at the hypnotic sight of his cum dripping out of you. Both of you too caught up in the moment to think about a condom. And too blissed out now to find it in yourselves to care. His fingers trace through the warm liquid. You find yourself flinching at the sensitivity when he brushes over your clit.

“I’ll uh- I’ll grab a washcloth. Just- stay here, ok?”

You smile up at him. So predictably sweet and caring and clearly starting to overthink as he comes down from his high. Mind racing with “what if’s” and the overwhelming fear that you might regret it. Regret him.

But you don’t.

“Wait,” you grab his arm as he starts to stand up, heading for the bathroom to clean you up. To take care of you.

“Can we go again?”

A flash of surprise and then a wave of relief washes over his face as he sits back down.

“Jesus, kid.” He smiles and settles back in between your legs.

Right where he belongs.

-

taglist- @rickswh0r3 @elnyrae @catt-leya @miinbun @murder-jacket @ankhmutes @grimesthinker @eternalrose81 @cl0wnb0yyy @whatthefuuuck @olive3oil @taylormarieee @imyourbratzdoll @fanngirl19 @spidermonkey2423 @belaballs @virtualreader @darylsdix0nn @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @cavillsgirl105 @movidita @flomrpus @summergirl37

(crossed out means I couldn’t tag)

#rick grimes smut #rick grimes fanfiction #rick grimes x y/n #twd fanfiction #smut #rick grimes #rick twd #Rick grimes x reader #Rick grimes x you #dbf!rick #dads best friend trope #pick your poison

[f1byjessie]

A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.

sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.

( lando norris x photographer!reader )

━━ part two.

Friday evenings are typically spent in the comfort of your flat. Normally, you’re half paying attention to reruns of whatever shitty reality TV happens to be on and half scrolling through social media to keep up with the ever-fluctuating trends of content as per your job requirements, all the while eating your body’s weight in takeaway. It’s not the dream, but it’s certainly a dream.

Tonight, you plan on amending things to include going through the pictures of Bali’s stunning beaches that Lando’s been spamming you with throughout the day, but beyond that, you have no intentions of deviating further from your norm.

You’re actually really looking forward to it. Though you’d rather cut off your own hand than admit it to his face and give him new ammunitions to tease you with, you miss Lando during the winter breaks. So much of your year is spent having him nearby━ a near-constant presence buzzing with the inability to slow down let alone stop━ and when he isn’t around, the silence seems louder. There’s no one else who manages to annoy you the way he does, and it’s just not the same without him.

To make matters worse, between your new job, Lando’s travels, and the scheduling conflicts that have arisen in turn, you haven’t had a chance to catch up with him beyond a few back-and-forth messages about his current escapades. So you really, genuinely, truly are looking forward to it.

Garrett Ward throws a wrench into things.

You have mixed opinions of Garrett. He can be very sweet, and he’s gone out of his way to make you feel incredibly welcome in your first week with the Manchester City team. He makes good conversation and seems genuinely interested in what it is you’re doing, often asking questions about your equipment and process, which is a nice change of pace from most other clients you’ve worked with in the past who rarely give two shits about anything beyond the final product. But his reputation is… concerning.

Garrett Ward is infamous in English tabloids for being a notorious womanizer.

There are several articles that come to mind, but the most damning of which is from 2019, before his trade to Manchester City, detailing with very incriminating photos how he’d been seen entering a club with two women and then leaving just a few hours later with a completely different pair. You don’t want to assume he’s the same man now as he was back then, nearly a full five years ago, but you’ve been working in the sports industry long enough to know that athletes can have anyone and if they want then they will have anyone━ there is no shortage of temptation.

And you are not arrogant enough to assume you would be the outlier.

Which makes his interest in you feel less like friendly curiosity and more like something you need to be wary of.

It’s also why━ as you make the trek through the Etihad Campus car park━ you feel dread begin to pool in your stomach as you answer your ringing phone. “Hi, Garrett.”

“Y/N!” He exclaims excitedly, sounding like he hadn’t just seen you barely ten minutes ago in the weight room. “I meant to catch you before you left, but you were outta there so fast I wasn’t able to.”

And there’s probably a reason for that, you want to say, but you hold your tongue. “Yeah, I usually try to be pretty quick about it.”

There’s an awkward pause left open as if he expects you to say more, and when you don’t he clears his throat. “Erm, well, I was actually just calling to see if, perhaps, you would like to grab dinner with me this evening.”

You don’t. At all. It’s one of the last things you would like to do. There are plenty of other hellish things you would willingly rather subject yourself to before sitting down and sharing a private meal with this man━ jumping into the Thames is one of them, and letting Lando drive you around on the autobahn in his Spider is another. Both could very easily result in death, permanent disfigurement, or any other number of horrible outcomes, but neither includes Garrett.

Your hesitating silence must be an answer enough for him, because he chuckles again and adds on quickly, “No strings attached, I promise. It’ll just be two friends getting dinner.”

All you want to do is get cozy on your couch in your pajamas with a kebab from the place down the street and watch pretty people deal with their pretty people problems on TV. You don’t think that’s too much to ask for, but apparently, some higher power does.

“I suppose that’d be alright then,” you agree tentatively, speeding through the stages of grief as you mourn the initial plans of your Friday evening━ the easy, simple, comfortable plans. “Shoot me a message with the time and place and I’ll meet you there.”

“Awesome!” Garrett cheers. “See you later then.”

The peaceful silence that awaits you after you hang up feels like it’s mocking you. Too bad you can’t flip off silence.

“Look, the truth is, City is looking at trading me at the end of the season if I can’t clean my act up.” Garrett’s voice is quiet as he admits the reality of his future to you, but it breaks the silence of the world around you like a gunshot. “And not just loaning me out━” he adds, a twinge of something akin to anger noting his tone, “━but fully trading me. They’re saying that my image makes things too hard for them and the only way they’ll consider re-signing me is if I can either keep my name out of the tabloids or try to clean myself up.”

In Garrett’s defense, he technically did hold true to his promise of just two friends getting dinner. Things were actually going quite well, too. The restaurant was a little more high profile than you would’ve expected for a casual meal, but that can easily be passed off as the luxurious lifestyle and expensive tastes of a pro athlete who can certainly afford it. Expenses of your meal aside, he’d been good company, asking after the ways of working in Formula One and then finding similarities in his football career that made it easy to chat about the struggles and stressors of professional sports.

But you can recognize that this is where it’s all beginning to go downhill.

He’s announced it completely out of the blue as you’re walking back to the garage where you’ve both parked your cars. On top of that, his pace slows and you’re forced to slow down as well to match it until you both eventually come to a halt in the middle of the pavement.

You feel for him, in all honesty. You understand the difficulties of contract negotiations and how easily they can fall apart. The fragility of Formula One contracts is its own special brand of tricky and you’ve seen many friends move on to other teams in the blink of an eye just as they’ve begun to settle down and make their mark where they are. You can’t say for certainty that you understand the mechanics of football contracts to the same degree, but you can imagine they have their own fragile fine print.

But the chill of a January night in Manchester is brutal, and you’ll be the first to admit that your outfit does not protect against it. You don’t really want to be having this conversation in general, because you’ve known Garrett for all of a week which makes you acquaintances at best, but you especially don’t want to be having it now, out here in the cold when all you want to do━ all you’ve wanted to do since this afternoon━ is curl up in something warm and comfortable and pretend the world outside your flat doesn’t exist for a few days.

“I’m not sure what this has to do with me if I’m being honest, Garrett.”

He shrugs. “I just thought you might be able to help.”

You shove your hands in your pockets in a desperate attempt to keep your fingers from going more numb than they already are and shake your head at him. “I don’t know how exactly you think I can help you with that. I’m a photographer, not a PR officer.”

“My agent thinks it would be a good idea if I showed the media that I could hold down a steady relationship. Prove to them that I’ve changed my ways, and have matured.” He shrugs again, nonchalant despite being the one to bring this up in the first place.

“Have you?”

He makes a face, something between a flirty smirk and a suggestive wink, “Well, I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Garrett.”

“Look,” he crosses his arms and levels you with a look that fills you simultaneously with more rage and annoyance than a single person has ever made you feel before. “It would just be for a couple of months, and then we could stage an amicable breakup and that would be that! It just has to be long enough to show everyone that I’m not the same as I used to be.”

You give him a look right back, hoping it conveys how appalled you are by his audacity. “Okay, but why me of all people? Christ knows you probably have a list of women in your contacts who would jump at the chance to pretend to date you for a few months.”

His face pinches up in disgust. “Yeah, but they’re all former hookups, and I mean, they’re kinda psycho about me to be fair. If I tried to end things, they’d probably go to the tabloids themselves and smear my name with the worst things they could come up with.” He shrugs again, and you’re starting to find that you hate it when he does so. “I need someone willing to just play along for the time being and who will be discreet when things are over.”

“And you think I’m that person?” You scoff. “You’ve known me for a week!”

Your voice echoes and it reminds you once again that you’re having this conversation in the middle of a random street in Manchester. It’s cold and dark, and you’ve been attempting to bite back your frustration since the moment Garrett called you. You’ve been as nice as you possibly can be for this man, shy of bending over backward to worship the very ground he walks on, and you’re so close to your limit that you think if he shrugs one more fucking time━

He shrugs. “Well, yeah, but you know how this industry works. So I know you can be trusted.”

You take a deep breath to try and retain what’s left of your quickly slipping composure, before you say, “Garrett, this goes beyond unprofessional. I could potentially get into a lot of trouble for this. You’re technically my co-worker, if not my client by proxy. It’s not a good look for me to be getting with the athletes I work with, considering my entire career is based on working with athletes.”

He makes a befuddled face as if asking what that has to do with anything. It occurs to you that he’s probably never had to worry about the ethics of hooking up with someone when most of the women who are interested in him would do everything in their power to spend a night by his side whether it’s morally just━ or legal, for that matter━ or not.

“That doesn’t seem to stop you from being all cozy with that Nor-whatever guy,” he grumbles.

“What?”

“That driver,” he repeats. “You post him all over your socials, like, all the time.”

You tear your hands from your pockets and throw them up in the air, “Because that’s my job?!” The stupidity of the man before you is genuinely baffling. He’s been asking about your job all week long but the way he’s talking now makes it seem like he didn’t catch onto the fact that your entire career is centered around media and the creation of content made with the explicit intention of being shared.

“I am quite literally paid to take and post pictures of him per my contract with McLaren,” you continue. “And even if I wasn’t, he’s my best friend?! I’ve been working and traveling and spending the majority of my time with Lando since 2019 so of course I’m going to be close with him. Do you not post your mates every once in a while?”

“Yeah, but it’s different. All my mates are guys, so nobody thinks I’m dating any of them when I do it.”

You scoff in disbelief. “I cannot believe this right now. You know, for a moment, I briefly considered helping you. But you’re actually exactly the type of prick the tabloids say you are.”

He takes an intimidating step closer, and his voice drops an octave lower. “I would reconsider if I was you.” You’re not short, but Garrett isn’t either. He’s one of the tallest players on the Manchester City team, and the way you feel now with him staring you down makes you wonder if this is what it feels like to be his opponent on the pitch.

It’s fucking terrifying.

But you’re fucking livid, too.

Your jaw clenches and you bite out sharply, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“What it means,” he starts, “is that if you don’t help me, maybe I slip a word about something or other to my boss who slips a word to his boss who is, also, your boss, and suddenly, whoops!” He gives you a cocky smirk, so sure of himself that it makes you feel like your blood is literally boiling. “He’s not your boss anymore. In fact, nobody is your boss anymore, because your ‘slip in conduct’ was very inappropriate and made several players uncomfortable, which doesn’t look very good when trying to get jobs elsewhere in the industry.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Well,” he fucking shrugs. “When you say it like that, yeah. I guess I am.”

You cross your arms, your hands clenched into fists so tightly that you can feel your nails digging painfully into the flesh of your palms. “You’re a real bastard, you know.”

“You’re not the first person to tell me that, love.”

If only it were legal to kill a man━ Garrett Ward would be six feet under and picking worms from between his teeth.

You weigh your options, though. You’re not sure how much weight his word actually carries. For all you know, he could tell his boss, they could bring you in to discuss things, and then you could explain it all from your point of view. Garrett is a notorious flirt and you doubt it’s the first time he’s tried to pursue someone who isn’t interested in him. You doubt it happens very often, but it has to have happened at some point. Not to mention, his reputation regarding women is bad enough that Manchester City is already giving him an ultimatum, so you probably have a chance, and the worst-case scenario is that you amicably part ways with the team and that’s that.

But realistically there is a worse worst-case scenario, and it’s pretty damn close to what Garrett is threatening. Losing this side gig wouldn’t really be too much trouble. It would put a dent in your savings, and you’d have to be a bit better about how you ration out your groceries and other necessities around the flat, but losing your job at McLaren? Being blacklisted from the industry entirely? That’s life-destroying. You would lose everything━ all the blood, sweat, and tears you shed to get where you are would be for nothing.

All because of a prick in sky blue.

“Fine,” you utter from between gritted teeth. “I’ll help you. But I won’t post you on my account. I won’t bring you home to my parents. I won’t go round to your flat and I certainly will not have you round to mind. You get one kiss to make it official to the paps, and then nothing more.” You take your own threatening step toward him, and a vindictive part inside you shines with malicious glee when he shifts ever so slightly backward. “If you try anything else, I will run to the papers and drag you through the mud worse than any of your little psycho groupies ever could.”

He scoffs, “You’d ruin your career.”

“But I’d tear you down with me,” you reply.

He takes a moment to think, staring into your eyes and weighing how serious you are. Whatever he sees staring back at him must be convincing enough because he sniffs, nods, and smirks.

“Deal.” He leans down, “I think I’ll be taking that kiss now. Make sure to really sell it, yeah?”

━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @leclercsluv @f1luvur @formulaal @a-disturbing-self-reflection @starlightpierre

━━ a/n: i feel like i say this every time, but i am seriously blown away by how well the first part of this was received! like, seriously, thank you so much for the kind words everyone said about it! hopefully this second part lives up to the hype of the first, it's a little denser, but the events are important to establish for the rest of the story so it needed to happen!

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #social media au #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #ln4 #oscar piastri

[cleolinda]

I’ve read a few of the umpteen thousand upset comments about the paid Watcher service, and I’ve read comments angry about the upset comments. There’s one thing I want to point out, and it’s that this isn’t, or shouldn’t be, “You’re saying people don’t deserve to earn money for their work.”

The Watcher guys do deserve to earn money. I already give them money. I give them $5 a month on Patreon, not because I think they do or don’t give me $5 worth of media, but because I want to support them. I canceled Netflix for pissing me off with its price hike/ad tier, but I give Watcher Entertainment money.

They’re saying now that the Patreon will be solely about the podcasts, and they understand if people leave. I’m perfectly happy to switch the support I can afford to the streaming service. With the early adopter 30% discount, I’d actually save money. In fact, I tried to subscribe, but the site didn’t work.

Watcher wanting to profit from their shows isn’t the problem. It’s that they’re now discovering that their fanbase is young and broke in a terrible economy, judging by tens of thousands of comments on multiple platforms. I can throw them $5/month, so I do. But the Patreon only has (checks notes) 5874 paying followers, and there’s a reason for that. $60/year upfront would not be “accessible.” Patreon is literally patronage from the people who can afford it.

If the guys had said up front, “ONLY new shows and episodes will be exclusive to the service,” I think we’d be having a different conversation right now. But at first they did say, “We’re pulling all our content from YouTube,” to the point where Variety had to issue an update. Like, that’s in print and I’m pretty sure it was on video. Now they’ve backtracked to ONLY new etc.—but most people haven’t heard, and they feel crushed. And the trust is probably gone regardless.

So now four years of back catalogue will stay public. And now, you’re paying $6.99 a month for one episode, maybe two, of something a week, and now, not an exclusive back catalogue. I would pay for Watcher shows before I’d pay for anyone else, but I just don’t think the company is big enough yet for a SVOD at that price. They’re not Dropout size. They needed to build more programming and get a higher follower count first, or at the very least, charge less.

The international price/exchange rate situation is a nightmare and I don’t know what it is they’re not doing to make it… not… be like that.

I don’t know what they should have done instead of a full streaming service, but surely there were alternatives? I’ve seen comments from people suggesting they GET a Patreon. Lean on that more! Do the shows exclusive for a month and then let them roll onto YouTube! I don’t know! Anything but One More Fucking Streaming Service, which enraged me, and I was willing to move my support to it!

And I shouldn’t say this, but I will. In the “Goodbye YouTube” video the guys posted, they say that setting up the streaming service has allowed Steven to do a remake of Worth It where he and his cohosts travel the world and eat expensive food. This is the first new show they announce. Not “We have always been committed to diversity and we’re now able to bring on new creator(s) to expand our programming.” No, a redo of an old show that by definition has got to be expensive. Commenters are saying they can’t pay for the streaming service because they can’t make ends meet in this economy. The optics are terrible. I genuinely question what the thought process even was here.

I love the guys and I still watch their shows. I want to see Watcher succeed. I started watching Buzzfeed Unsolved in 2018 while recovering from surgery—as with a lot of people, their shows got me through a tough time. I’m as attached as anyone. If I can continue to afford monthly support—this is not a certainty—I’ll give it to them. I’m not a ~hater who doesn’t want Watcher to make money. But I am absolutely BAFFLED by every single decision here. I want them to figure out how to turn this around and go in a better direction, because right now, this ain’t it.

#long post #I hope nobody hates me for this but like #this is someone supporting you #this is the best I can do #and that should tell you something #watcher

[beautifulbrainrot]

first time

spencer reid x fem!reader

cw 18+ fem!virgin!reader, implied age gap (reader in 20s, spencer in like.. s7-15) soft fluffy sex, a bit jokey (you’ll see), swearing, oral (f!receiving), unprotected p in v

a/n def the longest thing i’ve ever written so please lmk if this is nonsensical babble ..

-

when you first met spencer reid, you thought he was one of the most handsome men you’d ever seen.

as you got closer to him, you realised that no only was he extremely attractive, he was smart, awkward but charming, all around the perfect man. of course you wanted him! who wouldn’t?

except there were a few things stopping you from making a move as most people might do. first of all, he was your coworker. you had recently started at the BAU, and you did not want to be that new girl who sleeps with her more senior coworkers. another thing was that you were slightly.. more inexperienced than most in that particular feild. you had never had sex. or dated anyone. or even had a first kiss. god, you were pathetic! you wanted those things, so desperately, but many factors had stopped you.

and who would want the pathetic, over 20 year old virgin? at least that’s what you thought.

spencer had had his eye on you since you joined the team. at first it was innocent, you were smart and seemed nice, and awfully pretty. then, being a profiler, he started noticing things about you. you were extra nervous around him, blushing when he would talk to you. and recently you had even begun to avoid him. ducking away when he called your name from across the room, avoiding conversation if not pertinent to work and just overall staying away from him.

he had grown quite fond of you over the time you’d been on the team, even developing a small crush on you. who was he kidding, it was a huge crush. his eyes lingered on your pretty face a little too long, he didn’t mind it when you touched him (which was uncommon for someone he didn’t know very well) and he found himself thinking about you more than he normally would with his friends, even his closest friends.

spencer reid had a crush on you.

and you had a crush on spencer reid.

problem was, you were avoiding him like the plague and he didn’t really know how to talk to you.

you were at a impass.

good thing is, spencer had gotten better over the years at his people skills, and talking to people wasn’t as daunting as it once was for him. he just needed to wait for the right moment.

the right moment came in the office, late in the evening, when you, him and two or so others were still there. he walked up to your desk, knocking quietly on the wood of the table to alert you to the fact he was standing there.

you looked up, eyes widening as you saw it was spencer. standing at your desk. about to talk to you.

“hey, can i- can i talk to you for a second? in private.”

you nodded, blush dusting your cheeks. you followed him to an empty office, where you both stepped inside and he closed the door behind you.

“you’ve been avoiding me.” he started, looking down at you.

“i- i haven’t!”

“actually you have. we haven’t talked about anything not essential to work in… 1 week, 5 days and 2 hours.” he said, glancing down at his watch to see the exact time.

“you know the exact time we last talked..?” you asked, raising your eyebrow slightly. spencer’s eyes widened and he grimaced. real smooth.

“that’s.. not important. why are you avoiding me? i haven't said anything or done anything, have i?” he fretted, frowning slightly, wracking his brain for anything he might have done to upset you.

“no, spencer, you haven’t done anything! this is me- i’m.. i’m being unprofessional.” you sighed, gently placing your hand on his arm to calm him.

he gladly accepted the touch, holding back a smile as he realised this was the first time you touched him in weeks. your touch made him feel warm, heat radiating through his body from the spot on his arm where your palm lay.

“unprofessional, how?” he asked, tilting his head in a way that was akin to a confused puppy, which you thought was quite cute.

you sighed, deciding whether you were going to tell him or not. either he was going to be uncomfortable, or maybe, just maybe he might like you back.

“i had- well- i have a bit of a.. crush on you..” you whispered, grimacing as you realised that there was no taking back what you just said. no where else to go but forward. so you just started rambling.

“and- i mean! i didn’t want it to be uncomfortable or be unprofessional at work so i started avoiding you because you obviously don’t like me back so-“

“how’d you know i don’t like you back?”

“because who would like a pathetic twenty something year old virgin, who’s never even been kissed!” you yelled exasperatedly.

spencer’s eyes widened.

yours did too.

“i did.. not mean to say that.”

spencer didn’t say anything for a second.

“what i was trying to say.. is i do like you back.”

you looked up at him, shocked.

“even- even after what i just said?”

he shrugged, nodding.

“yes, i mean i was inexperienced in my twenties too. and now that i’m more experienced.. i can help you out.. if you want?” he breathed, voice low, his hands landing softly on your hips, thumbs rubbing small circles on your work skirt.

you knew you were blushing like crazy, embarrassment and lust heating up your cheeks.

“so.. i guess what i’m trying to say is.. do you want me to kiss you?”

you nodded dumbly, and barely a second passed before his large palms were cupping your heated cheeks, and his soft lips were of yours. you practically melted into him, turned into mush from the sweet and simple kiss.

he gently pulled away, and you looked up at him, eyes lidded and dazed.

“so.. how was that for your first kiss?”

you bit your lip, smiling softly.

“i think i want you to do it again.”

he didn’t waste any time, capturing your lips again, moulding them with his as he kissed you deeply. the kiss quickly got even deeper, more passionate, and when he pulled away you were flushed and panting.

emboldened, you initiated the next kiss, pushing yourself against his lean body, tangling your hands in his messy hair. he accepted this touch gladly, moaning lowly into your mouth at the feeling of your fingers tugging slightly on his soft locks.

by this point you were more than hot and bothered, practically soaking through your panties from just a few kisses. though who could blame you? you were a virgin kissing the most handsome man you’d ever seen in your life, and he was kissing you back. deeply. fervorously. passionately.

but just kissing wasn’t enough to satisfy this need inside of you. this want, this desperate urge. you needed him to touch you, to hold you, to fuck you. and you needed him to do it now.

“spencer-“ you whined, pulling away from his lips, pressing yourself closer against him.

“i need you.”

he cupped your cheeks again, looking down at your desperate face, eyes wide and wanting.

“i’m not taking your virginity in an empty office in the BAU.”

you groaned, and he laughed softly at the pout on your face.

“my apartment is near here! please spencer, please, i’m tired of waiting, i want you. now.” you cried, pressing yourself closer against him. it was then that you felt it. a bulge in his slacks.

holy fuck. he was hard. he was hard, because of you.

you trailed your hand down his body, ghosting over his crotch. you smiled as he closed his eyes with a shaky breath.

“c’mon... please can we go to mine?” you smiled softly, looking up at him, your smile widening as you saw that glint of pure lust in his gorgeous eyes.

he didn’t say anything for a second, seemingly weighing up the options, and deciding what to do. then finally, he spoke.

“okay.”

the trip back to your apartment was quick, and as soon as you entered the door, you were up against the wall again, your hands back in his hair and his on your hips.

slowly, you started grinding together, slightly clumsily at first on your part, but he quickly hooked your leg up and around his, pressing his clothed cock into your clothed core.

the pressure against your aching, soaked cunt was perfect, your head falling back slightly as you moaned. spencer took the opportunity to kiss on your jaw and down to neck, before going to your collar ( under where your work shirt would be ) to start sucking in a dark hickey.

you breath came out in pants, whimpering and moaning softly as he ground up into you.

“bedroom, please- please.” you gasped. you needed him. right fucking now.

you gasped, wrapping your hands around his neck as he suddenly picked you up, legs hooked around his hips, face in his neck as he carried you over to your bedroom.

he placed you gently on the bed, and stood over you. you were both looking at eachother with lust in your eyes, unable to tear away.

“do you want me to continue. do you want to have sex with me?”

you nodded quickly.

“words, baby.”

baby. holy fuck.

“i want to. please.” you answered quickly.

“do you want to take your clothes of for me?”

“only if you take yours of too.”

he smiled at that, quickly unbuttoning his shirt as you shedded your blouse.

“can you help with my bra?” you asked softly, turning, back to him.

he helped you unclasp it, and you turned back around, shedding the garment.

“beautiful.” he whispered as he looked at you, now only left in your panties.

you smiled softly, feeling completely comfortable as he looked at your nude chest. you in turn, started at his. he wasn’t muscley by any means, but he was lean and tall, with a small soft tummy you wanted to litter with a million kisses.

your eyes drifted down to his boxers, biting your lip as you saw the tent in his underwear. he smirked slightly as he watched your awestruck face closely, monitoring your expressions. spencer had come a long way with how he felt about his body, but he was still insecure. but seeing the way you looked at him, the pure awe and lust in your eyes made him feel better than ever before.

he whispered your name, and you looked up, small smile on your face.

“lie back, baby.” he said, his voice gentle and you couldn’t help but obey.

he helped you shuffle out of your panties, pulling them down off your legs, before pressing himself inbetween your legs.

your eyes widened as you realised what he was going to do.

“you don’t have to-“

“i want to. do you want me too?” he quickly answered.

you nodded, before quickly saying yes, remembering that he wanted vocal consent. you were blushing like crazy, and you leaned your head back into the pillows so that you could hide your heated face from him.

spencer didn’t notice, too busy gentle parting your thighs with his large hands, pushing them apart to reveal your glistening pussy to him.

overcome with lust and need, he leaned in, licking a broad stripe from your hole to your clit before circling his tongue around your clit softly.

you gasped and moaned lewdly, your lips parting as he continued licking your pussy, desperate to hear those sounds from you again.

he ate you liked a starved man, and just like his kisses he was passionate and feverous, moaning lowly into you. your taste was like honey to him, and the sounds you were making were angelic, music to his ears, the soft, needy noises coming from your parted lips as you squirmed on the bed encouraging to go faster, sloppier, deeper until you were screaming out with pleasure, legs trembling and shaking as you came hard on his readily awaiting tounge.

“holy.. holy fuck!” you laughed, quite literally in shock as he removed his face from between your quivering thighs. and fuck, if you didn’t almost come again at the sight of spencer reid, between your thighs, lips and chin slick with your juices, smiling softly up at you, pupils blown with lust.

he moved up your body, capturing your lips in a deep kiss, and you moaned at the taste of yourself on his tongue. it was sloppy and messy and dirty and perfect.

you parted from his lips, panting quietly.

“fuck me.” you said, biting your lip, “please?”

he kissed you chastely, before pulling away to remove his boxers. your eyes almost popped out of your head when you saw him, unrevealed to you at last. he was big. fuck. how were you going to take all of that?

“it’s okay. it’ll fit.” he breathed. you looked at him, jaw dropped. he talked about it so nochalantly, like he wasn’t constantly carrying around that fucking thing. you picked your jaw up and smirked softly. you could not wait to have him inside of you.

he lined himself up with you, and you shivered slightly with anticipation when you felt the head of him brush against your quivering hole.

holy fuck. this was happening.

he slowly pushed in, and you threw your head back into the pillows. the stretch burned, but soon the pain turned into pleasure, the feeling of being so filled, so fucking perfect you felt like crying and praising god. or spencer, really.

“feels- s’good spence-“ you chocked out, panting harshly into the quiet room as he stretched you open with his cock.

you both moaned as he bottomed out in you.

“are you ready?”

“so, so ready.”

he met your lips in a gentle kiss, that quickly turned rough and passionate as he started thrusting into you, pulling himself out before pushing back in.

as his thrusts got faster, you clung onto him, hands scratching down his back as he rhythmically fucked into you.

a continuous string of moans fell from your parted lips, the sounds going straight to spencer’s cock, making him go faster and deeper, holding you close as he fucked you.

he connected his lips to yours again, both of you moaning into eachothers mouths. the kiss was lewd and sloppy and passionate and so fucking perfect.

it didn’t take long before your legs were shaking again, your second orgasm of the night nearing. spencer could feel you clench around his cock as you neared the edge, the extra pressure causing him to get closer as well.

you both came together, holding each other close, moaning and panting. he pulled out gently, rolling over to lie next to you. you turned onto your side to look at him, and he did the same. you kissed him softly, chastely. unlike your previous kisses, this was gentler and softer, filling you with a different kind of warmth than the heat of lust.

“how was that for your first time? i hope i didn’t disappoint.” spencer grinned, and you couldn’t help the smile that formed on your face just looking at his.

“definitely didn’t disappoint.” you giggled. he wrapped his arm around you, holding your body close to him, both your eyes closing as the exhaustion of your long day and.. extracurricular activities finally caught up with you.

-

hope you like! reblogs and comments are always appreciated !

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut

[soobnny]

swipe — lee felix.

trope. lee felix. strangers to lovers. chronicles of a dating app. felix is extremely flirty. just fluff.

synopsis. i’m not looking to date right now, but my parents just sent me some computer parts and i saw on your tinder bio that you like assembling computers

word count. 3.2k words

warnings. none except for a few curse words

note. hi hello i got sent this rly funny photo of a conversation so i took inspiration from that and wrote this fic like a whiiile ago. i’ve had this in my drafts for a while so why not let it see the light of day!

Left. Left. Left. Left. Pause. Left. Left. Left. Left.

“(Name)!”

Yunjin offers no warning when her hands move to claw at your shoulders, intent on startling you without sparing a thought on your poor phone that had jumped out of your hands.

When you scare, she laughs, open-mouthed and loud as she plops herself on the spot next to you on your dorm’s mini couch. “You should’ve seen the look on your face.”

“Honestly, how do you even do that? I barely heard you walk into the living room!” You grumble.

You spare her a glance and notice she’s too dressed up to be staying the night in–white crop top that sits just above her hips with some low rise jeans to accentuate her features. Her hair is curled on the ends, recently dyed black and styled to look a little messy.

She must be going out.

Though you try not to think about it, the amount of times Yunjin goes out with her friends in a week is a constant reminder of how pathetic your social life is. While it didn’t quite bother you enough to accept her invite, it’d be nice to leave your dorm once in a while. It’s just that you haven’t found anyone you really clicked with like Yunjin.

“What are you doing?” She cranes her neck to try and see what you were so busy with that you didn’t see her from your peripheral vision.

You show her the app with no shame. It only makes her laugh tenfold, hands clutching her stomach with her head thrown back as if she wasn’t the one who had suggested you download it in the first place.

“Yunjin, this is stupid. I’ve only had this downloaded for a day and I already feel sick.” You groan, throwing your phone down in the space between you. Though, maybe you should’ve thought twice about that when Yunjin decides to grab so she can have a go herself – swiping left and left and left and… oh?

“What about him?” You curl into her side, peering over your phone.

Oh, he’s pretty cute. Lee Felix?

“He added dog lover. You love dogs and… music?” She goes over his interests quickly, eyes scanning his profile like a pro. You suppose it’s because she’s used to it, quick to read a guy’s intentions just by their Tinder profile.

“I like assembling computers. Oh, this guy’s a dork, you’d love him.”

Right.

It’s a match!

“Yunjin!” You shift in your seat, immediately grabbing your phone from her grip before she can do any further damage. Sure, you had humored yourself into downloading the app for Yunjin but you never thought of actually swiping right for anyone.

“What? He’s cute, and you matched!” She giggles, trying to grab your phone back so she can craft you the perfect first message.

She knows you won’t do it yourself.

You lock your phone before she has a chance to do anything stupid, shaking your head in reprimand. “I know what you’re trying to do and it’s not happening.”

She simply smiles at you, shrugging her shoulders and calling it a day for her trial in meddling with your love life. “Well, I tried. Alright, I have to go. I’ll be back late, you sure you don’t wanna come with?”

You return the smile, shaking your head as you drop yourself to lay down on the entirety of the couch once your roommate gets up. “I think my computer parts are coming in today so I have to be here to sign off the delivery.”

“Nerd.” She snorts, waving you goodbye and locking the door behind her. It’s your cue to grab your laptop and continue binging that new drama that had just been released.

This is your ordinary Friday night, curled up on the sofa with your most comfortable blanket and your laptop on your lap. Despite the desire to socialize sometimes, you think nothing else really goes above wearing your favorite PJs and eating snacks without guilt as the opening song of your new drama plays.

Though, you only get to finish one episode when your doorbell rings, and you waltz yourself to your front door to happily accept the package sent by your parents. They had won it as one of the raffle prizes in a foreign business trip, and since your parents had no use for a computer, they decided to ship it off to you. “Could help with college,” is what your dad says.

It’s only when multiple boxes come rolling in when you realize one small problem. You don’t know how to fucking assemble a computer, and you doubt Yunjin would know how either.

“That’s it. If you could please sign here, here, and here.” The mailman still sounds enthusiastic despite having done hours of his shift already, and you comply immediately as to not add on to the downpour of stress that’s handed to them every single day.

When you shut your door, you quickly turn around to stare at the multitude of boxes on the ground. Maybe Beomgyu would know how? He looks like he’d know a thing or two about computers. So, you shoot him a text.

Turns out, he doesn’t know how. And he’s currently scamming Yeonjun out of a free dinner, and so even though he tells you he’ll try to be there, you know he probably won’t arrive (unless to laugh at your situation).

You think, maybe you can just go to the Computer Engineering department and ask someone to help you, but could you risk socializing with numerous college students face to face? Absolutely the fuck not.

You’ve just about given up when your head strikes an idea and your back immediately straightens in posture at the stupid thought. “Should I?”

You rush towards where you had left your phone, letting out a sigh as you stare at the one person on your Match list. Lee Felix who likes assembling computers.

Lovely fucking timing.

Fumbling with the device, you finally decide to shoot him a message. What are the odds of him responding, anyway?

You’re tempted to throw your phone while waiting for his response, though your plan goes down the drain in a second when he responds almost immediately.

yn (6:03pm): hello!

felix (6:04pm): hey! i didn’t think you would message first :))

yn (6:06pm): oh, i’m sorry i hope you don’t get my intentions wrong. it’s just that … my parents sent over some computer parts and i rly don’t know how to assemble a computer

yn (6:06pm): i know it’s kind of random, but could u possibly help me by any chance?

yn (6:07pm): i don’t rly know anyone who knows how to and you’re the only person that came to mind

You cringe at yourself for triple messaging, face visibly scrunching as you let out a pained noise. And then he replies, and your hand shoots to grab your phone and stare at his message.

“Yeah, why not?” is what he replies, followed by where he should meet you. Is it a good idea to invite a stranger to your dorm? Probably not, but you can’t possibly assemble your computer somewhere else and bring it back to your dorms. So, you tell him to meet you at a cafe nearby – to test out the waters and see if he isn’t some variant of a serial killer.

“Be there in 15,” is his next reply.

15 minutes?!

You look down at yourself in sudden panic, still clad in a big shirt and some shorts. How were you supposed to pick something decent to wear in 15 minutes without Yunjin? You suppose could facetime her but you know it takes her hours to even decide on what to wear for herself.

Bringing your feet towards your closet, you say a silent prayer and start picking out what to wear for yourself. While this wasn’t technically a date, Lee Felix from Tinder is still fucking cute and you would hate for him to think he got scammed into swiping right on you.

You double check yourself in the mirror, chewing at your lips thoughtfully before sighing out in approval. At least you looked as if you put some sort of effort into what you’re wearing. That should be good enough in itself.

The nerve of meeting an entirely new person begins to set in when you repeatedly dart your eyes from the coffee shop back to your phone to try and see if anyone who looked like Felix was in the coffee shop. It’s like watching a game of ping pong the way you repeatedly look back and forth. And when it seems that no one with long black hair is here yet, you take it upon yourself to take a seat by the window where he can find you easily.

The scraping of the chair catches your attention, and holy fuck. Lee Felix is not a catfish. He is way far from it, and you think you might’ve lucked out when he takes the seat in front of you.

“Sorry, I hope I didn’t startle you.” Deep, thick accent. It feels like shots of espresso when he speaks and it physically manifests goosebumps from you. You shake your head, telling him you’re fine. “(Name), right?”

He smiles, and it feels like your whole world stops.

“Uh, yeah. You must be Felix?” The man in question nods his head, reaching out to shake your hand and the gesture has your cheeks flushing. It’s an act of basic human decency, but can you really be blamed for acting like a shy little school girl when someone as beautiful as Felix is sitting and talking to you.

The coffee shop is still bustling, and everyone around you converses as if the most beautiful man hadn’t just stepped foot into the coffee shop. The freckles sitting just below his eyes look like constellations, and his black hair is styled just messy enough to achieve the hot boy who doesn’t know he’s hot look.

“Do you want some coffee before I set your computer up?” You shake your head, suddenly feeling shy.

Instead, you tell him to get whatever he wants so you don’t feel guilty enough for taking time out of his evening just to assemble your computer. He accepts your promise in pretense, but he comes back with his order and a few pastries and it’s clear he’s already paid for it from the way he ignores any mention of how much it cost.

“I didn’t know what you preferred, so I got a bit of everything.” There’s a crinkle just at the corner of his eyes when he smiles, sitting back down adjacent of you as he pushes the plate closer to you.

You look at the array of pastries, a little hesitant. “Please don’t feel shy. Here, let’s take one together.”

He grabs a cookie from the platter, and you shyly follow by grabbing a strawberry muffin.

“Mmm, strawberry muffin. Very good choice.” Felix comments, watching you closely as you take a bite out of the muffin. “Is it good?”

Your eyes widen in delight, nodding your head as you chew slowly. “So good.”

Your words come out as a mumble, and it triggers a sweet laugh out of Felix. You feel familiar, the way you smile with your eyes and close them shut to savor the taste.

“You’re cute.” He says unabashedly, as if his words won’t cause drastic consequences.

A chunk gets stuck on your throat.

Felix is quick to hand you a glass of water when you start choking, rushing to stand by your side. You would’ve hoped the first skinship for the evening would be handholding, and not repeated pats on your back to remedy your choking.

“Are you okay?” His hand is still on your back, gently running small circles as he leans down to check on you. You think you might start choking again if he keeps looking at you like that, 1080p view of his eyelashes and the specs splashing his irises.

“Mhm, sorry.” You put the glass down, refusing to meet his eyes as he remains hovering over you. You want to leave out of embarrassment. He notices your silence, notices the way you cross your arms in mock defense.

“Don’t worry, I still think you’re cute.” There’s a smirk on his face. You can tell without even looking up at him. “I’ll take these out.”

He says it so casually, as if he’s simply asking about your day. His outward flirty-ness is new, but it isn’t unwelcome.

“Ready to go?”

With the plastic bag in his hand and his order in a takeout cup, you sigh gratefully. “Yeah.”

The walk to your dorm is short, but it’s spent in conversation. Lee Felix is talkative, has lots of stories to offer. Whatever it takes to make you laugh.

You like that about him. You like that you don’t have to talk so much. He doesn’t even force a comment out of you. Just needs to know you’re listening.

So you do. You listen intently as he shares pieces of his life with you—his friends, his course, games he plays. He’s chatty, and the way he smiles with every word reminds you of a cat. Deep whiskers and crescent eyes.

“So, really, this is a great way to end the day, assembling a pretty girl’s computer.”

His mouth drops a little when he realizes he’d vocalized the latter part of his sentence, yet he doesn’t make a move to take it back. You are pretty, one of the prettiest he’s ever seen. And the blush on your face is well worth the slip of his tongue.

“As long as you’re sure this isn’t a hassle.” You mumble, looking down at your feet as you reach your building.

That you aren’t getting anything out of this.

Though, before you can step forward, you’re tugged back to where Felix is standing. He’s holding your hand now, grabbing your full attention. “I promise this isn’t a bother.”

The way he looks at you answers your silent question—he doesn’t mind that you’re simply asking for his help without any intention.

“I enjoy building computers, especially with good company. You don’t even have to do anything. Just sit there and be yourself.”

“Okay. Thank you.” He squeezes your hand for extra measure, allowing you to drag him to your dorm room.

True to his word, Felix doesn’t so much as let you lift a finger. You stay seated on the couch, watching as he sets to work on the floor. From time to time, he’d tell you what he’s doing. Something about screwing some parts in and a mother board? You don’t understand much, but you listen as much as you can.

“Tell me about yourself.” Felix looks up from his work, and your eyes widen a little at the boy’s sudden request.

You’re sure you’re simply imagining the gentle interest in his eyes. “Hm?” You ask him to repeat himself, even though you heard him loud and clear.

“I’ve been yapping about myself all night. I wanna know more about you.” He teases.

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything. Everything.”

“Soooo… do I start with the year I was born?” You laugh when he throws you a look, quick to throw your hands in the air in mock surrender. “Joking, joking.”

“You’re an interesting girl, (Name).” Felix grins, locking eyes with you for a second and a half before turning back to his work.

“There’s nothing much to me, really. I go to school and go home and that’s about it. I just try and survive college the best I can.”

He shoots you a disapproving look. “Well, I beg to differ.”

“What do you mean?” You bring your legs up on the couch, sitting cross-legged as you wait for what he had to say.

“For one, your eyes lit up when I talked about Chan’s Pokemon collection, or how Seungmin is obsessed with Kdramas.” He points out, reaching for his takeout drink and taking a few large gulps. “And you smiled when I mentioned the little chicken plush I own.”

You don’t expect Felix to notice any of this, and the thought that he did has a blush fighting to creep up your face.

You grab a throw pillow to hide behind.

“Oh, and you like strawberry muffins. So, I’d say there’s a lot to you. And I’m hoping to learn everything more.”

You have to force your eyes to look away from him in fear that your flustered cheeks would appear too obvious to the boy. Though, if he’d noticed the mere brightening of your eyes, you’re sure he’s already caught on to the silly schoolgirl smile on your lips.

“Stop looking at me.” You mumble, burying your face in your pillow. All you can hear is his sweet laughter.

“Come here, I’m just about done.”

You clap your hands in small when he turns on your computer, fully functioning and fully assembled. It surprises you how a task that would’ve taken you 6 hours is done in under 2 by Felix. Even more that it didn’t even feel like two hours.

You suppose that’s just the thing with Felix. He makes it so that time disappears with the whole night sky in his eyes—the moon for eyes and stars littering his face.

“Thank you, Felix. Like really.” He dismisses you, telling you it was nothing. The satisfaction on your face is enough compensation for his work.

There’s a few do’s and don’t’s that he mentions, and you try to list them down the best you can.

“Or, I can just text it to you?”

You pause mid-writing, looking up at him. “Sure, that’s… that’s fine with me.”

You’re unsure of how to say goodbye to him after giving him your number, unsure even of how you can make it up to him for the 3 hours you’d taken away from him. If it were anyone else, you would’ve said it in ease, so you don’t know why you can’t do the same for Felix.

It’s different with him because you don’t want to say goodbye. You could go hours longer listening to him and watching him assemble your computer. Though, before you can contemplate to do anything, Felix interrupts your inner monologue.

“Actually, I have an idea on how you can make it up to me.”

You look up at him expectantly, and you see the hint of a smirk tracing on his features.

“Let me take you out on a date. A real one.”

“A date?” You stutter.

“I know you said you texted me just because I could fix up computers, but I really enjoyed talking to you today.” He’s holding back a smile. “So, what do you say?”

“Okay.” His eyes light up, glazed with happiness as he processes your response.

“Okay? As in, I can take you out on a real date?”

“Yes.”

Felix can feel something sweet in his heart, can feel it flutter like it’s being squeezed. To his surprise, you’d actually agreed, and the genuine excitement in his smile is too wholesome to not stare at.

“So… goodnight then?”

“Goodnight.”

“I’ll text you?”

“Okay. I’ll be waiting.”

Felix fixes you with a look one last time, almost romantic with the soft glaze in his eyes. And then he’s stumbling out into your hallway.

With a second glance, he turns his back away from you and walks away. You can’t help but still feel the warmth of his smile.

You feel a compelling force telling you you’ll see much more of Lee Felix in the near future.

#k-labels #felix fluff #lee felix fluff #felix x reader #lee felix x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids felix #stray kids felix x reader #lee felix fanfic #stray kids fluff #stray kids oneshot #stray kids imagine #stray kids scenarios #skz x you #skz x reader fic #skz x y/n #skz x reader #skz scenarios #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #felix fanfic #skz felix #lee felix x you

[just-jordie-things]

Hi! I noticed that you haven’t gotten any kiss prompt asks for Yuuta yet (as of the time I’m writing this) so can I ask number 67 for Yuuta?

YES you are the first to ask for yuuta <3 but there will be more to come !!

67: When One Stops The Kiss To Whisper “I’m Sorry, Are You Sure You-” And They Answer By Kissing Them More ___

you hadn't seen yuuta in ages.

three months two weeks and a day, to be exact. and if you'd thought about it, you could narrow that down to the hour, too.

he was doing important work overseas, and you couldn't be more happy for him. having been thrusted into the jujutsu society, he somehow managed to navigate it with ease, and you were certain he was a player in rewriting it, too. he was a special grade after all, he could do anything he pleased.

he'd worked hard to stake his place in a society he hadn't grown up in. and you'd been there every step of the way, since the day gojo had brought him to jujutsu tech, you'd been an ally to him.

it didn't take long for ally to turn friend, and then friend turned to... well, you weren't sure exactly. with him gone so much it was hard to have a real conversation about where it was you stood with each other. not long before he'd left, there'd been a shift in your relationship. your eyes began to linger on one another's for a few seconds longer than you were used to, you often made plans to spend time together without your other friends present, and the day yuuta left, he'd hugged you tightly, and maybe for a few beats more than he'd hugged the others. before he'd released you from his embrace he'd told you that he'd miss your company the most. you've been replaying those words in your head ever since.

you kept in constant contact with him, and he tried to extend the same to you, but his assignment kept him rather busy.

however yuuta would never fail to send you a good morning and goodnight text each time he picked up his phone first thing that day, or laid it down before going to bed that night.

if anyone asked you about him, you would sing him praises until maki was dragging you away to shut you up. but you couldn't help it- you were so proud of the sorcerer he'd grown into. he had more strength and was more capable than he'd ever thought himself to be when you first met. so when he was brought up, your eyes would go starry and you would simply sing.

but you missed him.

you missed him so terribly that your bones ached. your chest felt hollow. your movements seemed slower. you often found yourself drift out of conversations, even those that actively involved you. it all just seemed so... dull, without him here.

the day yuuta returned home, it was raining.

it had rained all morning in fact, the overcast skies bringing heavy showers. your attention tuned out of your lessons as soon as fat drops began to pelt into the classroom windows. you found yourself watching them race down the glass in between idly taking notes.

although your mood had been rather melancholic, as of late, the gloomy weather actually brightened you. at least it sparked an interest, something for you to entertain yourself with. once your lessons were over you'd hastily made your way to the front doors, eager to spend your afternoon sat on the steps. the top of the steps were so perfectly covered by the awning that you could enjoy the rainfall without being drenched by it.

despite your training having been light today, your muscles ease and relax as you perch on the top step. you wrapped around your knees, drawing your legs close so that you could rest your head atop them. the rain, though not accompanied by thunder, was loud. it washed over the roofing above you like a monsoon, and clattered against the ground like pebbles. it's noisiness soothed you.

but it happened to be too noisy, that you didn't hear the car pulling up, until it was parked in front of the school. curiously, you lift your head, trying to think who it was that had taken on a mission today to now be returned.

when a dark haired figure steps out of the backseat, clad in a all too familiar white jacket, your posture straightens a little further.

you can't hear him as he speaks to ijichi, his arms pitifully raising over his head in an attempt to ward off the rain, but you assume he's assuring the manager that he'll help with the bags.

it's not until he's throwing the strap of a sheathed sword over his shoulder that you're standing, heart finally catching up with your mind as you find yourself racing down the steps.

you pay no mind to the instant drenching of your hair, skin, and clothes, your only focus on your feet carrying you to the boy you missed so desperately that he was worth the discomfort of a little rain.

"yuuta!?"

his back is to you as he's helping ijichi get his things from the trunk of the car, but as soon as you speak his swiveling around eyes wide with utter excitement, and they seem to round even more when he sees you running towards him, not even trying to shield yourself from the rain.

your hair is stuck to your face, at your forehead, your cheeks, your neck, it's messy, and darkened by the constant attack of the rain, but it only makes yuuta's heart stutter more. he can see you grinning the closer you near, and his lips are taking the same shape before he knows it.

"careful!" he hollers over the rain, an afterthought that strikes him once he's snapped out of the lovely daze you'd sent him into.

just in time too, your foot slides over a particularly slick spot of pavement, sending him jolting forward in fear that you'd just sent yourself crashing to the ground.

instead he lets out a laugh as you glide for a moment over the pavement, but never seem to lose our balance as you continue your full sprint.

you're laughing too as you finally reach him, pausing to look at him in wonder before crashing into him, your own laughter bubbly and bright as you throw your arms around his neck and latching onto him with your hug.

"you're home!" you say delightedly through your nervously excited giggles.

despite the two of you being soaked to the bone yuuta returns your embrace with just as much fervor, his arms are around your waist like it's second nature and you're not sure which one of you is clinging harder to the other. your words say it better than anything he could think of to say, he thinks, i'm home.

"I can't believe- you didn't tell me you were coming back!" you're pulling away with a mocking furrow in your brow, the back of your hand smacking his chest in offense. "next time you call me!"

he laughs, a bit breathless, and somehow being scorned by you has never felt so wonderful.

you look beautiful, with rain making your hair cling to your skin, and your mascara run in just the slightest. you look more beautiful than his memory served, and yuuta knows he should explain himself, tell you that he'd wanted to surprise you and all your friends with his return, but words are lost on him.

hell he could almost forget about this downpour while he's standing here staring at you.

you're bewildered by his silence, your expression impatient as you wait for him to say something, anything at all. but yuuta's too lost, you can see it in the glaze over his eyes, the lazy smile on his face as he stares back at you.

and then he's closing what little space had been between you, wet hands sliding over your wet face as he gives into the only thought that's been occupying his mind since laying eyes on you again.

yuuta's kissing you, firm, passionate, fast. he kisses you so deeply you instantly forget that poor ijichi is still present, gathering as much of the luggage as he could before rushing away from the scene with a red face.

you're stunned, but your surprise does nothing to hinder you from kissing yuuta back with fervor. it's a bit messy, the rain making it easy for your lips to slide against each other. this doesn't seem to bother either one of you.

suddenly and in one swift movement, yuuta's pulling away, a horrified look in his eyes as he gapes at you.

"oh my god," he mumbles with wide eyes and worried brows. "i'm sorry, are you sure you-"

before he can even finish his question you're pushed forward again, your hands splayed over his neck to bring him towards you for another kiss. your mouth latches onto his with purpose, with devotion.

yuuta melts back into you as though he'd done this a thousand times, as though he'd already known home in the softness of your mouth.

even when you do part, both panting for breath, letting out quiet giggles as your eyes meet shyly, you hardly move. you stay nose to nose, your hands stuck on one another as if the rain had turned to glue.

"should we go inside so you can greet the others with such..." you trail off, your eyes bright as they flicker between his. "... passion?" your finished thought has you both giggling.

yuuta's thumb traces the trail of a raindrop down your cheek, his eyes following the motion before finding yours again. they're warm, and kind, just as you'd remembered them.

"maybe in just a minute," he sighs lovingly. "the rain's not that bad anyways"

___

a/n: ilysm (i love yuuta so much) xoxo ~ jordie

#okkotsu yuuta x reader #yuuta brainrot #yuuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta x reader #okkotsu x reader #yuuta okkotsu #yuuta #okkotsu #yuta x reader #yuta okkotsu x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

[fuck-customers]

Kind of a fuck customers but also a satisfying story at the same time.

My role in the call center I work in involves taking specifically corporate calls, which means I spend all day talking to “business professionals” (and I use that term loosely) including CEOs. As you can imagine, over 90% of these CEOs are the scum of the earth and the most entitled assfaces on the planet.

A week or so ago, I took a call and went through my usual routine of greeting the cardholder and then began going over verification questions. Since we’re A.) a bank and B.) a bank that handles corporate and government credit cards, we take security seriously and require a caller to be able to verify 3 pieces of information based on what the person responsible for their credit cards put on the account. If they don’t pass, we refer them to their company to get the right details.

So as I’m doing this, the guy on the phone is getting increasingly irritated as he keeps getting the security questions wrong. I’m calm and professional the entire time but firm. Eventually I run out of things to verify with him and tell him that we won’t be able to assist and that he needs to contact his administrator. This is apparently where I went wrong.

“LADY I AM THE ADMINISTRATOR!!” He screeches. Ok, great. I look him up and that’s true but there’s a second admin listed, so I ask him to check in with him. He then yells “THERE IS NO OTHER ADMIN! I’M THE CEO OF THIS COMPANY FOR CHRIST’S SAKE!!”

I apologize and tell him while that may be true, he still got his security questions wrong and needs to reach out to his account coordinator then. This man then proceeds to scream at me for the next minute or so saying how we’re an awful bank, how he’s had problems with us for years, blah blah and how we have the worst customer service ever. Keep in mind, I’ve been nice and empathetic this entire time but also I’m not gonna lose my fucking job just because a guy in a suit doesn’t know his shit. I give him the email to his account coordinator and stress again that he needs to talk to them. Then this exchange happens:

Him: “So let me get this straight. You are saying you are REFUSING and UNWILLING to help me, right?

Me: “No, actually I’d love to help you, however we have these security procedures in place for yours and your company’s protection and cannot make exceptions for anyone.”

Him: “This is fucking UNBELIEVABLE! I’ve HAD IT with this bank!!”

Me: “Ok, I’m sorry to hear that. Anything else I can do for you before we disconnect?”

Him: “WHAT IS YOUR NAME? I NEED YOUR NAME. NOW.”

Me: *gives my first name and spells it for him even though it’s a very basic 4 letter name because I’m a bitch*

Him: YOUR LAST NAME.

Me: “We don’t give out anything but our first name for the safety of our employees.”

Him: *insert that condescending, pissed off chuckle middle aged men do when they’re mad here* “Well I’ll tell you what (My Name), when I close this account and pull my MILLIONS OF DOLLARS out of (bank name) and they ask me why, I’ll make sure to tell them that it’s (My Name)’s fault. And I will see to it that you won’t be able to get another job outside of the minimum wage fast food job or whatever you had before this. How does that sound?”

Me: “Sounds great. Now seeing as how this conversation is no longer productive or professional and threats are being made, I’ll be terminating the call, have a nice day.”

Him: “DO NOT HANG UP O-“

Me: *click*

And that’s how making rich, powerful men rage-cry became my new favorite hobby. Thankfully, I haven’t gotten any feedback on that call; not that I would, seeing as how I did my job exactly how I was supposed to. Anyways I hope I’m his 13th reason. ❤️

Posted by admin Rodney.

[mcdonaldsplayground]

| best friend's brother |

aged up ao’nung x f!reader

summary: ao'nung has always just been your best friend's annoying older brother. at least that's what you tell yourself. but lately he's been moody and far more interested in your love life than he should be. when you discover that he's been playing a role in your failed courtships, you decide to confront him about it.

includes: fluff, swearing, teasing, possessiveness, ao'nung being oblivious🙄

word count: 6.5k

a/n: i am so sorry it took me foreverrrr to write this😵‍💫 it's not great, but it's all i got right now. i have a break from school coming up so hopefully i can catch up on some other fics i've been working on but we will see whether or not i can get over this serious writer's block🥲

“Reya! Reya!” You called, waving your arms erratically as you jogged over, a wide grin decorating your face. Your best friend was standing ankle-deep in the water along with a few of your other friends and the Sully kids. They turned in attention as you splashed toward them, eyebrows raised in amusement.

“[Y/N]! What is it?” Tsireya asked, a matching grin spreading on her face when she noticed your excitement. “Just give me a second, Lo’ak.” She briefly turned her attention back to the Omaticaya boy, indicating that she would return to their conversation later. He flushed slightly, nodding before you grabbed Tsireya’s hand and pulled her to the side. Everyone appeared to go back to their conversation, though you suspected they were going to listen in anyway. You didn’t seem to care.

“Reya!” You squealed, almost unable to get the news out, just smiling and giggling while Tsireya laughed. “You’ll never guess what just happened!”

“Tell me already!” She pleaded, grasping your shoulders as if to ground you.

“Atey’ete just asked me to go out riding with him tomorrow!” It came out in one big breath, your enthusiasm obvious in your tone.

“Oh! That’s great news!” She gasped, bouncing a little. She knew how much this meant to you, considering your history. He was the first guy who’d ever actually approached you with anything more than the intention of friendship, and it felt like your heart was going to explode. While many Metkayina males had shown initial interest in the past, they always seemed to move on quickly, some going as far as to completely avoid you afterward.

“Yes! I can’t believe it!” You laughed, doing a silly little dance that made you and Tsireya burst out laughing. However, the reality of the situation had begun to sink in. Your smile faltered. “I’m kind of nervous, Reya.” You bit your lip, suddenly thinking about how inexperienced you were in this area. Tsireya put her hand on your arm.

“What for?” Her eyes were reassuring, and you softened a little. “It’s obvious that he likes you, [Y/N]. He’s been staring at you with hearts for eyes for weeks now!”

“No way!” You let out a breathy laugh, blushing deeply.

“I agree. There’s no way that’s true.” Tsireya’s older brother, Ao’nung, suddenly inserted himself in your conversation, moving to stand closer to you with that perpetual smirk of his. “Atey’ete is a warrior. He’s looking for a potential mate, not a stupid fling.” His words made your heart sink in your chest, your excitement ebbing away.

“Ao’nung!” Tsireya chastised, glaring daggers at the boy. “Just because you haven’t found a mate yet doesn’t mean you need to take out your frustration on [Y/N]!” She hissed. Though it was brief, you could have sworn you saw a pointed look pass between the siblings, indicating Tsireya’s words were about more than just Ao’nung teasing you. You shrugged it off as something that didn’t involve you.

“Just saying.” Ao’nung shrugged, putting his hands up in surrender; ever the cool and unbothered warrior. Eywa forbid anyone see him display an emotion other than that smooth self-confidence. It made you roll your eyes, but you were used to it. Growing up as Tsireya’s best friend just happened to come with the added factor of dealing with her brother. As a kid, he had simply been an annoyance, someone who found joy in pestering you and his sister. But growing up, and specifically completing his Iknimaya, had changed him. It was like he stopped having a personality in favour of being what you and Tsireya secretly called 'King Ao’nung' because everyone seemed to fall at the feet of the future Olo’eyktan despite his bad attitude.

“Why don’t you just go stare at your muscles in the reflection of the water?” You quipped, trying your best to seem nonchalant about the conversation. You liked how much it seemed to get under his skin when you acted like you didn’t care.

“Whatever.” He scoffed, turning to stalk back over to Rotxo and Lo’ak. You sighed, turning your gaze back to your friend. “King Ao’nung strikes again.” The two of you burst out laughing for a second time, and it was easy to feel at least a little better.

“Why don’t we go back to my marui?” Tsireya suggested. “Dinner will be soon anyway, and we can talk more about your date without my pest of a brother interrupting.” She said the last part loudly, shooting a hard look over her shoulder at the tall Metkayina. He just narrowed his eyes, holding his stare even as the two of you began to walk away. You could feel his eyes practically boring through your back. It made your stomach flip.

“What’s his problem?” You muttered when you were out of ear shot, briefly looking back once more to try and decipher why on earth Ao’nung still looked so agitated. Beside you, Tsireya nervously tucked her hair behind her ear. She only did that when she had a secret, which intrigued you.

“He’s just grouchy because he hasn’t found a mate yet and our parents keep asking about it. I think it’s stressing him out.” She explained. You frowned, eyebrows furrowing.

“Fine, but he could seriously have anyone he wants. Even without his status in the clan, pretty much everyone is drooling over him. It’s gross.” You said, making a face. For some reason a knot formed in your stomach when you thought about the way some girls fawned over him. You quickly tried to forget about the feeling.

“Yes… But my parents keep suggesting potential mates and trying to set things up for him, which he doesn’t like. He has someone in mind already, but he’s convinced she doesn’t like him.” She confessed, looking around as if someone might be listening. Your face felt hot suddenly, but you didn’t understand why.

“Who is it?”

“I promised I wouldn’t tell.”

“Oh come on, Reya! It’s not like I have anyone else to tell anyway! I’ll keep my mouth shut, I promise.” You pleaded, feeling an involuntary urge to get the information out of her.

“I’m sorry- I can’t say. It’s a really sore subject for him and he’d kill me if anyone else knew.” Your best friend looked genuinely apologetic, and your heart sunk. It wasn’t like her to keep anything from you- even big secrets- but you decided not to pry. The thought of Ao’nung finding out and getting mad at Tsireya was not something you wanted to be the cause of. Still, you found yourself aching to know who he had his eye on. In all the time you had been around him, he’d never shown much romantic interest in anyone, so the mystery seemed impossible to even attempt to figure out.

“So… Atey’ete, huh?” Tsireya changed the subject, nudging you with an elbow and a small grin. You allowed yourself to fall into the easy conversation concerning your crush, hoping it would help you stop thinking about your best friend’s stupid older brother.

The next day seemed to drag on forever as your long-awaited date with Atey'ete approached. The two of you had agreed to meet on the beach a little bit before sunset, and though it was nearly dinner time, it felt like you still had years to wait.

"Ugh." You huffed quietly, fingers becoming tangled in one of the fishing nets you were helping Tsireya mend. You normally weren't too bad at weaving, but your nerves were getting the better of you. Tsireya giggled.

"Why don't we leave this for tomorrow and go get some dinner?" She suggested, offering you a sympathetic smile, though laughter danced in her eyes. You smiled back in spite of yourself, allowing a small laugh to escape your lips.

"Yes please." You wasted no time in dropping the half-fixed net and hastily cleaning up the area. Nothing was going to take your nervousness away, but Ronal's cooking had a particularly good effect on you even at the worst of times. You could have sworn you ate with Tsireya's family more often than your own.

As the two of you approached Tsireya's marui, you noticed Ao'nung leaning with his back against the outside wall, arms crossed and sporting his usual impassive expression. If you didn't know any better, you might have thought he was on the lookout for you and his sister.

"You know your friends aren't around, right? You can drop the whole 'I'm better than everyone else' act." You said, wanting to distract yourself from your flip-flopping stomach. Over the years you had learned that the best form of amusement came from riling Ao'nung up. When his ears flicked back in annoyance, you bit back a satisfied smirk. However, he was able to ignore the dig.

"Didn't think you'd be here tonight. Aren't you going to be late for a really lame date?" He asked coolly. Now it was your turn to be annoyed.

"Aren't you going to be late finding someone to be your mate? Oh wait..." You trailed off, pleased with such a quick and biting comeback. Something dark passed over his face before he narrowed his eyes.

"Very funny. Are you just bitter because he bailed on you?"

"We're not even doing anything until later, so keep dreaming." That was the best you could come up with as a slight inner panic seized you, amplifying your worry that Atey'ete would indeed bail on your date later. Similar occurrences in the past were enough reason to validate that, and Ao'nung knew it. In fact, most people seemed to know of your inability to be first choice. It stung, but you hurriedly swallowed the hurt, practiced in not thinking about it for too long.

"Grow up, brother." Tsireya finally said, shaking her head at him as you followed her past him and inside the marui. You heard him scoff behind you as he also ducked inside, the three of you taking your typical places among Ronal and Tonowari so you could eat together.

"What are the three of you bickering about this time?" Tonowari asked, an easy smile on his face.

Ao'nung was quick to answer. "I was just advising [Y/N] not to waste her time courting unworthy men." You and Tsireya rolled your eyes, holding in laughter. Ao'nung had a habit of talking himself up, especially to his father, and this time was no different. You didn't know how it was even possible to twist his snarky quips into something so dignified, but he always managed.

"Oh? And who is this unworthy man you are courting, [Y/N]?" Ronal gave you a knowing look, seeing through at least some of her son's thinly veiled attempt at saving face. You blushed deeply.

"Well, first, we definitely aren't courting," You started. "Atey'ete and I are just going out riding later."

"Oh! He's such a handsome boy!" Ronal exclaimed, nodding in approval.

"And an excellent young warrior." Tonowari chimed in, winking at you. You flushed again, fidgeting nervously with your fingers. Ronal continued to go on about your date, telling a story about some errand he had helped her with once, but it became difficult to pay her your full attention when you noticed the sour look that had settled on Ao'nung's face. In a matter of seconds, his self-assuredness had been replaced by intense irritation, his narrowed eyes downcast while he uncharacteristically picked over his food. You'd never seen him look so angry, and found yourself confused at how the topic of conversation had such an effect on him.

"Son?" Tonowari broke both of you out of your separate stupors, waiting patiently for Ao'nung to answer the clearly unheard question. The younger male carefully schooled his expression into something at least sort of neutral looking.

"Huh?"

"I was asking why you don't think Atey'ete would make a suitable mate for [Y/N]?"

Ao'nung suddenly choked on the bite of food he had just placed in his mouth, coughing as his eyed widened in shock. You were also rather shocked at Tonowari's question, though you hid it much better.

"M-mate?" Ao'nung finally managed, no longer coughing but still wearing the same stunned expression. "Don't you think it's a bit soon to be thinking about that? I mean, they probably haven't even talked to each other more than once!" His tone was laced with discontent.

"Well, you all are getting to an age where finding a mate is a priority. Even the beginnings of a courtship are to be taken seriously, Ao'nung." Ronal said patiently, though you could tell there was a double-meaning behind it, a bit more pressure to place on the shoulders of the eventual clan leader. You didn't think it was possible, but he looked even more annoyed than before.

"I know that. I was just saying I don't think they would be a good match." He grumbled. "I'm finished." He excused himself and quickly stood up before stalking outside. There was a tense moment of silence before Ronal spoke up.

"Please excuse him, [Y/N]. He has been having a hard time lately."

"Of course." You said politely, dipping your head down in understanding, though you were secretly perplexed and somewhat irked by his moodiness. You spent the rest of dinner no longer plagued by nervousness concerning Atey'ete, but rather entirely consumed by puzzling over Ao'nung and his strange behaviour.

After dinner you received a brief pep talk from Tsireya and an encouraging hug from Ronal before you set off to meet with Atey'ete. However, you couldn't seem to shake the conversation that had come up earlier. Ao'nung's childishness was confounding, certainly, but as you rapidly approached the date you’d once been over the moon excited about, you couldn't help but think of what Ronal and Tonowari had said about courting. They claimed that at your age it was serious- like had the potential to become mates serious- and that scared you more than you would like to admit. You'd spent so long being rejected by your male peers that when Atey'ete had approached you with interest, his ultimate intention never even crossed your mind. Why shouldn't I still be excited? You thought, trying to think of any logical reason as to why you were suddenly doubting this. Atey'ete was kind and thoughtful, funny and handsome; not to mention a well-respected member of the clan. If he was interested in you, why would you jeopardize it without reason?

As you waged your internal war, you grew increasingly annoyed, particularly at the fact that you kept picturing Ao'nung's face in the middle of it all. The way his lips curled into a frown at dinner. The spark of fire behind his eyes when the two of you had been trading insults beforehand. You wanted to bash a rock into your head to stop thinking about him. It wasn't even relevant to your current predicament! Ao'nung just had an infuriating ability to take up residence on your mind. So you decided to stop thinking entirely, becoming laser-focused on getting to the meeting place and not letting your mind wander anymore.

At first you were able to tell yourself that you were just early. The sky had only just become tinted an orangey pink when you arrived on the smooth stretch of white sand, finding a stray rock to sit and wait on. You had agreed to meet around sunset. It wasn't like it was an exact time.

When that excuse became irrelevant, you came up with the idea that Atey'ete was just running a little late. The sun was sinking closer and closer to the horizon line, the sky beginning to twist into hues of purple and darker blue. He led a busy life. He'd probably been caught up hunting later than usual.

But when the stars finally blinked into existence and the last sliver of light disappeared under the gentle ocean waves, you began to cry. It wasn't voluntary, and you tried to stop, but your efforts were in vain and you eventually allowed yourself to just stare at the waves lapping on the sand as hot tears trailed silently down your cheeks.

What was it about you that was so undesirable? And why did guys feel the need not only to reject you, but to rub salt in the wound by giving you hope in the first place? Whatever string that was holding you together seemed to fall away, your heart bleeding out of your chest onto your hands and legs and into the sand. You felt massacred in all but physical body, and you vowed that this would be your last heartbreak. Even spending the rest of your days alone seemed a better fate than this.

"I told you he was going to bail." You jumped at the suddenness of the low voice behind you, but instantly clocked who it was. Hostility and rage bubbled underneath your skin as you whipped your head around, baring your teeth in a silent hiss.

"Fuck off, Ao'nung!" You barked, not missing the brief worry that crossed his features as he assessed your condition. "You're the last person I want to talk to right now!"

"Really? I thought Atey'ete would be up higher on that list." He quirked an eyebrow.

"Don't be all King Ao'nung right now. I'm not in the mood for that version of you." You snipped, staring hard at him. He knew of the nickname you and Tsireya had for him, but he seemed surprised to hear you say it directly to him. It was usually a funny little joke, but all you wanted to do was direct your hurt onto someone else, and he happened to be the perfect target.

"Alright," His expression softened into something you hadn't seen in a long time. Something like pity. Maybe even something like empathy. "I'll be nice Ao'nung, then." He tentatively sat down beside you, his leg just barely touching yours. You tried to ignore the buzzing feeling that ignited in your stomach at the near contact.

"I didn't know nice Ao'nung still existed." You scoffed, pulling your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around them, resting your chin on top of them as you fixed your gaze on the dark ocean in front of you. He was still staring at you.

"Nobody wants a soft clan leader, [Y/N]."

"Being nice and being soft are two different things."

"Maybe."

"Do you really think that people won't respect you if you drop the walls you've built around yourself?"

"You don't know what it's like."

"No, I don't. But I do know what it's like to look up to you. To watch as you try to live up to your birthright." Your eyes flicked back to meet his, surprised by the vulnerability etched on his face. You hadn't realized how much you missed the boy you once knew. "I know it's not easy to be under so much pressure, but you don't have to change yourself to fit into some mold of the perfect little prince." You held each other's gaze in silence for a short time before a smile crept onto Ao'nung's lips.

"When did you become so wise?" He asked, nudging you gently.

"I've always been wise, skxawng. You just never cared to notice." You teased, still unsmiling but feeling slightly better. Something about this real version of him set you at ease. Something about him made you feel good, even if you wouldn’t admit it.

"I notice more about you than you think..." He mumbled, the words barely audible to you. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, sure that you heard him wrong.

"What?"

"I asked how long you've looked up to me for." He lied, trying to divert the conversation back a bit, a slight blush appearing on his cheeks. You studied him with narrowed eyes for a few seconds before deciding to let it go. You were actually kind of enjoying the deep conversation.

"Since always, I guess." You shrugged. "You may have been Tsireya's annoying older brother, but you also used to be thoughtful. And funny."

"I'm not funny anymore?"

"Don't push it." You said, eliciting a deep chuckle from Ao'nung. You smiled a bit in spite of yourself. "I just mean that you weren't going to become the Olo'eyktan one day just because of who your parents are. I always thought you were meant to be a great leader. Because of who you are. Because you care about everyone way more than you let on."

"Don't push it." He mimicked, this time making both of you laugh.

"Just stop being such a jerk, alright? Then maybe it won't be so hard to find a girl to like you." You grinned at him, ignoring the dull ache in your chest that your words incited. Ao'nung, however, quickly dropped his smile and fixed his gaze to the ground. It only lasted a few seconds before he changed the subject, but you felt stupid for calling him a jerk.

"Are you okay?" He asked, catching you off guard. You'd become so wrapped up in the current conversation that you forgot what originally brought you there in the first place.

"Oh- a-about the whole date thing?" You let out a breathy laugh, disappointed to be returning to such a sore subject. Thankfully it didn't hurt quite so bad anymore, though. "Yeah, no, definitely! I didn't actually care too much anyway so... It's, um, it's whatever." You internally cringed at your attempt to sound nonchalant. Ao'nung clearly wasn't buying it, but he didn't seem to want to push it.

"He's a douche anyway." Ao'nung said. "Trust me, you don't want to be going out with him."

"I guess..." You trailed off, biting your lip as you felt a sudden boldness take hold of you. You knew he was just trying to make you feel better, but you couldn't hold back on what you were truly wanting to know. "Look, you're a guy, do you know what's wrong with me?"

"What?"

"I mean, there has to be something seriously off-putting or undesirable about me. We both know this isn't the first time I've been stood up. I just want to know what it is about me." The words came out rushed as your grew embarrassed about voicing your deepest insecurities, and to Ao'nung, nonetheless. He looked a little pale as he stared at you, searching your eyes.

"You think there's something wrong with you?" He breathed, sounding more like he was asking a rhetorical question than a real one. He seemed to be rapidly working something out in his head.

"Well, yeah. I know I'm not exactly the prettiest or the most talented woman in the clan, but after a while you get the impression that something's off when everyone else is getting into successful relationships but you. Guys barely even look at me anymore." You admitted, still regretting the conversation topic but pushing through anyway.

"Oh, shit." Ao'nung whispered under his breath, suddenly standing. You couldn't read his expression anymore as it became more complex, not to mention confusing. You knew it was an awkward thing to talk about, but this reaction seemed a little extreme.

"Where are you going?" You called after him as he began to rush away in the direction of his marui, appalled that he was leaving so abruptly. His answer was too quick and quiet for you to make out, so you just sat in stunned silence for a moment, watching as he eventually disappeared from sight. "Okay. Nice chat." You said, pressing your lips together, unsure of what to do next. And for the umpteenth time that day, you found yourself focused on thoughts of your best friend's brother, trying to fit another seemingly impossible piece of the Ao'nung puzzle together.

“[Y/N]!” Tsireya called upon catching sight of you. She quickly apologized to the group of friends she’d been standing with and took off toward you, catching up easily. You were on your way to mend some more fishing nets, and you didn’t slow down even as she fell into step with you. “Hey! Where have you been this morning? I couldn’t find you and I was about to force Lo’ak to start helping me search!” She laughed. Her easy joyfulness was infectious, but you had to settle for a small smile as the best you could do in response. You were still trying to work out your complex web of feelings from the night before, something you’d spent all morning avoiding everyone to do. You wanted to talk to her about it, but it felt impossible to lay out clearly.

“Sorry, Reya,” You apologized, offering her a sincere look. “I just needed some time on my own to think.”

“Oh… Things didn’t go as planned last night then?” She asked gently. You sighed, shaking your head before a breathy laugh escaped your lips.

“Definitely not. Unless you count being stood up again as a plan. Which I guess maybe I should have. It happens enough.”

“[Y/N]…”

“It’s okay, really, I’m used to it. Besides, your brother of all people came to the rescue.”

“W-what? Ao’nung was there?”

“Yes. I have no clue what he was doing out there, but we ended up talking for a while.” You explained, carefully examining her reaction. While she looked mostly surprised, there was something different, like worry, behind her eyes.

“What did you talk about?” Her response felt strangely eager, like she was looking for you to say something specific.

“Mostly him, actually. I finally had the guts to tell him off for acting like a jerk sometimes.” You started, briefly chuckling at the memory. “But then it got really weird. He was trying to make me feel better about Atey’ete, but I couldn’t stop myself from asking him what’s wrong with me… Y’know, because he’s a guy and I thought maybe he would know.”

“And? What did he say?”

“Nothing, really. He got really pale and started acting like he was in trouble or something. Just got up and left. Like I said, weird.”

“Oh.” Was all she said, her brows furrowed as if deep in thought.

“Yeah. And do you know what’s really crazy?” You went on, unable to stop yourself from expressing the thoughts you’d been obsessing over all morning. “What’s insane is that I got stood up again and all I’ve been thinking about since is your stupid brother, just trying to figure him out. And even worse? When I do think about Atey’ete, I feel... relieved,” You were full-on ranting now as Tsireya watched with wide eyes. “I’ve been trying all morning to understand it, but I’m just relieved that Atey’ete didn’t show up. And I haven’t been letting myself even consider it, but I think- I think it might be because of Ao’nung.” You finally said, almost shocked that you admitted it out loud. The two of you stopped walking as a charged silence filled the air.

“Ao’nung likes you too!” Tsireya suddenly blurted before quickly slapping her hand over her mouth in horror of the admittance. You froze, eyebrows shooting skyward as you felt the world around you come to a slow halt. The only thing you could manage to process was the slow blinking eyes of your best friend as she searched your face. “I shouldn’t have said that but it just came out.”

“What are you talking about?” You whispered in disbelief. She stared at you for a few more second before sighing, resigning herself to an explanation.

“I think it’s time you know, anyway.” She started. “Ao’nung’s the one who scares off any guy who shows interest in you. He used to claim it was because they weren’t good enough for you, but I finally got him to admit otherwise a few months ago. He likes you, [Y/N]. A lot. But he’s so dumb and won’t believe me when I tell him that you like him back-”

“Woah. I don’t think I would say that.” You interrupted, though a bloom of heat rushed to your face at the accusation. Tsireya just gave you a look, quirking one eyebrow.

“You may be able to hide it from yourself, but you can’t hide it from me.” She stated. “I hear the way you talk about him when you’re not on your guard. And I definitely don’t miss the way you stare at him when you think he’s not looking.”

The realization felt like a blow to the chest. She was right, after all. You had once acknowledged your crush on the boy before pushing it far down out of sight when you thought he could never see you that way. You figured you would always just be Tsireya’s annoying best friend in his eyes.

“Even if I do,” You reluctantly admitted. “That’s still crazy. He’s been scaring guys away instead of just asking me out?” You were just now processing the whole story, going back through every heartbreak and every time you thought something was wrong with you with the new knowledge that Ao’nung was behind it.

“Yeah, I know. I kept trying to tell him how badly it was going to blow up in his face, but he’s so stubborn.”

“Since when?” You changed the course of the conversation out of the blue, but Tsireya was quick to follow along with what you were asking.

“Since he completed his Iknimaya. But he’s been in love with you since we were kids, [Y/N]. He’s absolutely terrible at expressing it, clearly, but it’s true. I don’t think he’s ever even considered anyone else.”

Again, her words landed like a punch to the gut, though it mildly annoyed you that the feeling was less painful and more relieving, your stomach doing excited little flips at the thought of Ao’nung seeing you the same way you saw him. You had to work to reign in the giddiness racing through you. Ao’nung still had to face the consequences of being a total moron, after all.

“I’m going to talk to him.” You decided, looking to Tsireya to agree. She nodded her head.

"Good. I think he's just getting ready to go out hunting, so you'd better hurry." She gently pushed you in the direction of the reef. As you started to jog away she called, "Don't let him off easy, okay?" And a laugh escaped your lips.

"I definitely won't!" You assured her, though you knew it was going to be difficult considering the giddy excitement coursing through your veins.

Luckily, he was still on shore when the reef came into your view, looking to be repairing one of the fishing spears before he set off with the other hunters. You slowed to a walk as you approached, and he only looked up when you were mere feet away from where he sat in the sand. Your shadow fell over him and your crossed your arms as he looked up and met your eyes, doing your best to look at least a little mad.

"[Y/N], what are you-"

"Why did you scare Atey'ete into ditching me?" You questioned calmly, narrowing your eyes and shoving down a smirk as panic took over his features. The hunters who were in the vicinity went silent, turning their attention to you and Ao'nung. "Actually, I'd also like to know why you've done that to every guy whose ever been interested in me."

"W-what- How did you..." He trailed off, trying desperately to find the right words as he squirmed under your gaze. "Did Tsireya tell you that?" He seemed to finally come to his senses, looking around at all the amused eyes fixed on him. He quickly stood up and grabbed your hand, tugging you to a spot out of view of the others. The contact between your hands was like a spark of electricity, briefly making you forget why you were supposed to be mad at him. The momentary amnesia doubled when he stepped closer to you, staring urgently into your eyes.

"How did you find out?" He asked, bringing you back to reality as he let go of your hand. You shivered at the loss of contact.

"Doesn't matter. Just tell me why." You said quietly, not missing the way his expression shifted into one of chagrin. It almost made you laugh to see him looking so uncharacteristically sheepish, but you maintained your composure.

"I don't know." Was all he said, unable to meet your eyes anymore, kicking at the sand beneath his feet like a child. Your jaw tightened at his lame response. Now you really were annoyed with him.

"Okay, fine." You scoffed, turning to go. You weren't expecting him to be so guarded, and it hurt to know that he wasn't willing to admit his feelings for you even when you were so blatantly offering him the chance.

"Wait!" You felt his fingers wrap around your wrist, igniting that familiar spark of electricity again as he pulled you back before you could get too far. You turned to face him again, letting your disappointment show on your face. "I'm sorry," He sighed, shaking his head as if figuring out what to say next.

"Just forget about it, okay? You're clearly still too busy being King Ao'nung to take me seriously." You wanted to run away and hide for the rest of the day. Maybe the rest of your life. Tsireya seemed to have overstated his feelings for you, and it was hurting more with every passing second. The only thing still keeping you there was Ao'nung's gentle grip on your arm.

"I do take you seriously. And I want to talk to you- I just never know what to say."

"Well you could start with a genuine apology."

"I'm sorry," He stepped slightly closer, forcing you to tilt your chin up to meet his gaze. Your heart sped up. "I really am. And I know you have no reason to believe me because I've been acting like a jerk lately. And you have no reason to forgive me, either. It was really fucked up of me to do that- to threaten guys who were interested in you. I was always so jealous at how easily they got you to like them, and I wished you would look at me the way you looked at them, even just for a second. But I didn't want to hurt you, [Y/N]. I swear," A pained expression took over his face, and he shifted his grip on your hand so that your fingers were laced together. Warmth bled through his touch and set you at ease. "Last night was the first time I realized how badly it was affecting you. I always assumed you didn't care that much because you never showed it, but I realize now that was a stupid assumption. I was selfish, and I'm really, really sorry."

You stared into his blown pupils, not saying anything for a while as you processed his words. Since your original plan had been derailed, you had to work out what to do next.

"I wasn't mad when I got here." You said, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Ao'nung furrowed his eyebrows. "I mean, I was a little bit. I wasn't about to let you off for basically making me think I was unlovable for a while there." You smiled wider as Ao'nung cringed slightly. "But I wasn't mad because I was actually just relieved. Because for some Eywa forsaken reason I have this insane crush on you that I've been trying to get over for years, and even though I would never admit it, every time I got stood up I felt relieved that I wouldn't have to settle for someone I could never love." His eyes widened at your confession, and you wondered if he could hear how loudly your heart was beating.

"Oh Eywa, [Y/N], I'm so sorry that I made you think-"

"Are you seriously not taking your chance right now? I'm starting to doubt how much Tsireya told me you liked me..." You said, holding in a laugh as his eyes widened yet again. For a future Olo'eyktan, he was really dumb sometimes.

But all it took was that push from you and he was kissing you. Softly, at first, almost like he felt you were going to break, but when you fell into his body and wrapped your arms around his neck, he became more desperate, tugging gently at your bottom lip. His warm hands rested on your waist, pulling you flush against him. It could have been seconds or days before you pulled apart, panting and grinning like fools.

"Tsireya didn't exaggerate," He started, resting his forehead against yours as his thumbs caressed your sides. "I like you so, so much. I just never thought you'd feel the same. I always figured you just saw me as your best friend's older brother." He admitted and you chuckled.

"I thought you just saw me as your sister's best friend." This time the both of you laughed softly before he placed a quick kiss against your lips again.

"I see you." He whispered, and suddenly the world around you diminished, leaving only Ao'nung in front of you. You could hear the blood rushing in your ears and feel the slightly quickened heartbeat inside his chest, the points of contact between you like pieces of a puzzle fitting perfectly together.

"I see you." You finally said back, completely enraptured by the way he was staring at you, like you were the only person in the entire universe in that moment. You stood like that together for who knows how long, occasionally exchanging sweet kisses and blushing grins.

Finally, you decided to say something, "So how many guys did you have to threaten to stay away from me? Was it like, just a few, or are we talking about more of a whole line up?"

"Oh, please." He grinned, shaking his head as the two of you laughed.

"I'm just trying to make up for some lost self-esteem over the years, okay?" You chuckled, offering him a mischievous look.

"Alright, I get it. I probably deserve the guilt trip." He smiled, holding his hands up. "But I don't think you have anything to worry about when it comes to guys wanting you." He admitted, looking slightly annoyed at the thought. You gasped dramatically.

"So it was a whole line up! You must have been busy keeping them all away from me." You said proudly, earning an eye roll from him.

"Don't let it go to your head. Besides, it doesn't matter anyway."

"And why's that?"

"Because now you're mine." He hummed, suddenly using his loose grip on your waist to pull you closer and place his lips on yours once again. You smiled into the kiss. Maybe all that rejection was worth it after all.

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