#(but yes we well be gone on weekends (for the most part)

[lil-shiro]

Stroll adamant he remains committed to Aston Martin F1 venture

Important highlights below (full article linked in title):

“It’s amazing to see how far we’ve come as a team for the last five years. We’ve grown so much as a team since we were in pink colours.

“We have a very exciting wind tunnel that’s being built, we have an incredible facility that’s now in Silverstone that we moved into last year, so there’s a lot of pieces of this puzzle that are really coming together,” he explained.

“Along with the talented people that have been in service for many years, a lot of new talented people have joined and are joining, which makes this project very exciting.

“So, in my mind, you know, definitely here for the future. That’s where my head’s at.”

Asked whether he remained committed to Aston Martin’s F1 venture, Stroll said in Monaco:

“For sure, I’m committed to this whole project,” he added.

“Like I said, how we’ve gone from a team that had 350, 400 people in 2019 and now we’re pushing the number to 1000 people. It looks very different at Silverstone now to 18 months ago.

“So yes, I’m definitely committed and excited to be a part of this project.”

Stroll has also rubbished the notion that his father’s direct involvement in Aston Martin has meant that he lacks the edge to perform as his seat will not be under threat.

“I’m the most competitive person I know. I’m someone that I like to see myself do super well and perform super well.

“And it feels good even if times are tough. Last weekend to just pick up a couple of points was nice, I still enjoy that.

“I’m the first person that’s hard on myself on a day when things don’t go well, and I’m still as excited and happy as ever when I have a great day since the last seven, eight years that I’ve been in Formula 1.

“So that feeling is still driving me to keep pushing, to keep going. And yes, I hate having bad days, just like I’m sure everyone does in this paddock.

“It’s a team effort,” Stroll continued. “It’s fun to be a part of this journey and this project and see all these elements at Silverstone coming together.

“Last year we started the season really strong and that was like a very big step forward for us. We had a bit of a dip. And this year has been a little bit more challenging but I still see a lot of positivity and excitement, which makes me positive and excited.”

[404-squill]

Greetings and salutations everyone.

It is the weekend, and making sure Will doesn’t die is a very hard task. Due to this, we will both be semi-inactive on social media throughout all weekends, including this one.

I may communicate occasionally in these time perimeters using Tumblr's ask and reblog features:

21:00:00-12:00:00 UTC+9

Again, Will is a very stubborn one, and would certainly be in critical danger without assistance. He may be stubborn, but he is my host.

[thevoidstaredback]

Saturday's at Wayne Manor are family days. The whole weekend is reserved for the family to come and go as they please, but the biggest events are the Game Days on Saturday from 11:00 to 16:00 and Sunday Dinner at 18:00.

Every Saturday is a Game Day, but the third Saturday of each month is Competition Day. The kids all choose their favorite games, and everyone competes against each other. It's very rarely missed by anyone, but there have been times when someone has had to tap out for one reason or another. Alfred keeps track of who's missed how many days. Barbra keeps the tally of who's won what and how many times. At the end of the year, on December 31st, the scores are announced.

Sunday Dinners are sacred. No one ever misses a Sunday Dinner. The last person who did Jason is still getting subtle jabs and looks from everyone and that was a year ago and he had a very good reason, thank you very much! Everyone is always present for Sunday Dinner because everyone still has a room and the option to stay the night between the two days. Most usually take up the offer, but there have been extenuating circumstances that have pulled someone from the Manor.

No matter any of that because everyone is here and everyone is staying the night. That means everyone is patrolling Gotham tonight. Almost everyone. Batwoman has offered to take over Bludhaven for the night, so that's where she's gone.

Bruce plans to present his idea of messing with his coworkers when everyone gets back to the cave after patrol. All his kids know who they all are, having been trained by him, so there's no risk or accidental reveals on his part. In actuality, the kids thought of it like a game. They even had a folder for it on the Bat Computer and everything!

Yes, that night, after everyone returned to the Bat Cave, he would gather his Chaos Gremlins and invite them to mess with the Justice League with him. He'd also try and get Alfred in on it. Family bonding, and all that.

Though, making his kids sweat was its own form of amusement for him. It was 3:00 when everyone finally returned. They all ran their own routes, watched over by Oracle, and their own times, but everyone was always done no later than 3:00. It was a rule that the Gotham Rouges had yet to pick up on because Batman went back out until dawn more often than not.

Anyway, Bruce has been the first to get back and had put on an act of being upset. He usually kept his Batman persona with his suit, so he was rarely ever this stoic while he was Bruce Wayne. He hid his smirk as he sat at the head of the meeting table in the Cave, waiting for his children to change and sit with him. Duke normally was asleep by now, but he'd asked the boy to be there, letting him in on the harmless prank while they waited for his siblings and Stephanie to arrive.

Once everyone was seated, he waited a total of thirty seconds, meeting eyes with every one of his children, before he spoke. "I'm very disappointed."

Dick's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. He'd known Bruce the longest - aside from Alfred - and had likely picked up on something the second he saw Bruce and Duke at the table. "At who?"

"The Justice League," It was amusing to watch the tension melt off of all of them when he shook his head, "We all know who all of them are, as well as everyone who trained under them, but they don't know who we are."

"Except Wonder Woman," Jason pointed out, "She figured me out when I came back."

Fair, Bruce supposed. Jason was always Diana's favorite. "I think they need some help," he said, "A push in the right direction, so to speak."

Stephanie had a smile on her face that promised mischief. "We're not telling them, right? 'Cause that'd be no fun."

"Course not!" Duke yawned, "B said we'd give them a hint."

"What did you have in mind, father?" Damian asked, stoic as always, but matching the gleam in Cass's eyes.

"We invite them to the Bat Cave," he said, "Show them around a bit. The only exits we tell them about, though, should be the Lane," How the ground vehicles get in and out. "-the Zeta Tubes," Obviously. "-and the elevator. But, we don't tell them what's upstairs."

Alfred seemed very amused from where he had taken his seat at the other end of the table.

"From there," Bruce continued, "We invite their civilian identities to the next Gala. Meet them. Hint about the Cave without actually saying anything. If I know Clark as well as I know I do, then he'll, at the very least, piece together that the Bat Cave is under Wayne Manor."

"And if we play it right?" Dick's grin was manic, "They won't connect who we are."

"Won't that be suspicious, though?" Tim spoke up for the first time, "They may not have put things together yet, but they aren't stupid. They're heroes. If we give them the pieces, they're gonna piece them together."

Damian was the one to answer him. "Batman and Bruce Wayne hate one another, though there is a grudging acknowledgement and respect."

"Give them the right pieces, with a few from the wrong puzzle, in the wrong order, we could totally have them fooled!" Jason explained.

The group shared looks between each other. Nothing needed to be said because the looks and movements said everything.

Alfred smiled and shook his head fondly. "You may plan this in the morning. For now, go to bed and get some sleep."

Part 1 Part 3

[togrowoldinv]

Home for the Holidays

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

When you get home from a work trip, you and Natasha reunite just in time for holiday celebrations

Note: I’m back! Sorry for the lack of fics lately. I’ve been finishing up classes for the year, studying for an exam, and getting a job lol. Plus, a little family trip to Vegas last weekend. I hope y’all enjoy this one! Happy holidays!

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

You’ve been gone on a business trip for four days and Natasha misses you like crazy.

She finally understands what it’s like to wait for her wife to come home as you waited for her all of those years. Nat counted down the days until she could see you again.

Your flight landed and she insisted on being at the airport even though you assured her you could get home by yourself. It was early in the morning so once she drove you home you fell into a deep slumber.

When you stir awake, Natasha is sitting up in bed next to you. She’s got a coffee in her hand and a smile on her face.

“Good morning, detka,” she says. “How did you sleep?”

“I slept okay,” you reply. “Still tired.”

She nods. You maneuver yourself over to place your head in her lap. Her soft, but strong fingers brush over your cheek.

“I’ve missed your beautiful face,” Natasha says, her voice barely above a whisper. She still gets a little shy with outright affection.

“I’ve missed you too, Natasha. What do you say we just stay in bed all day?”

“Hm,” Natasha begins. “We actually have some plans.”

“We?”

“Yeah. I made them on our behalf, but you know we’re a we. A package deal,” Nat explains.

She tries to read your expression. Maybe you’re too sleepy to read, she thinks. You just sigh and close your eyes.

“What are the plans?” You ask.

“Christmas lights with the team. Well, at least with Wanda, Steve, Sam, and Carol. They seem to be the most excited,” Natasha says.

“Carol is excited?” You ask in disbelief. She usually keeps her feelings to herself, but it’s a good sign she’s feeling like part of the team enough to be herself.

“She is. She reunited with Monica and some teenage girl that she’s bringing along. I’ll need to ask them how exactly they are connected, but yeah Carol is excited,” Natasha explains.

“Maybe I’m just tired but all of that sounds kind of insane.”

“That’s our line of work,” Nat says. “Are you ready to get up?”

“Lights happen at night,” you mumble, burying your face in Nat’s thighs.

“We’re having lunch with Yelena,” Nat says. “It’s the last time we’ll see her this year.”

You grumble and try to go back to sleep. Natasha chuckles at the way you cling to her.

“It’s going to be okay, baby. If you get too tired later we can always come back home and another type of fun,” Nat suggests.

“Oh,” you say. “Can we?”

You sit up and Natasha smirks. You’ve missed that expression.

“If we’re quick, we can probably do that right now too,” Natasha says. “What do you think, sweetheart? Do you want to show me how much you missed me, detka?”

God, was her voice always so enchanting or did you just miss her?

You find yourself nodding and leaning in to kiss Natasha. For the next 30 minutes, she welcomes you back home with fervor.

Once you get dressed, you leave to meet Yelena for lunch. Natasha brings her Christmas gift for her with you.

“You guys didn’t need to get me anything,” Yelena says. She begins to open it anyway.

“Oh, it’s fine. We-“ Natasha begins.

“Yes we did,” you interject. “You’re our family.”

You swear Yelena is about to cry, but Natasha cracks a joke about the gift effectively lightening the mood. You have no idea what the gift is honestly. Some kind of equipment for her missions.

“Thank you,” Yelena says. “I- um- I care about you both a lot.”

“I love you, Yelena. We love you,” Natasha says.

The affection from her sister makes Yelena begin to cry. Nat crosses the table and hugs her tight. You’re not sure who needed the hug more.

“Why don’t you stay with us for Christmas, Yel?” You ask her.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose on your holiday,” she replies.

Despite her usual confidence, she can be a little insecure about her place in your lives. Natasha drops a little kiss to her head. Her sister folds into her further.

“You’re never imposing. It’ll be fun. Right Nat?”

“Absolutely,” Nat says. “You’re staying. I’ve decided for you.” You all three laugh.

Later that evening, Yelena tags along to the Christmas lights with the team. Everyone is happy to see you and everyone really is excited to be there. Especially Carol.

The lights and the company are perfect, but eventually you look sleepy enough for Nat to excuse you to go home. She tucks you in bed and climbs in next to you.

“Goodnight, detka,” Nat says.

“Wait, we were going to-“

“Sleep,” Nat says. “There’s time for that tomorrow. I know you’re exhausted.”

“Okay,” you reply. “I love you, Natasha.”

“I love you, y/n.”

[rallentando1011]

hey so can I get a scenario with rise donnie’s s/o coming up to him and invited him to a restaurant in the hidden city where it has couples dancing? Entices him with his favourite music that’s gonna be playing and massive puppy eyes?

late nights, flashing lights

rise Donnie x gn reader

“Come on, it’s the weekend! Why not do something special?”

Donnie flipped up his goggles in response to your question and set down his welding gun, sparks ceasing to fly at his confusion. “I haven’t the slightest notion on what the day of the week has to do with my choice of activities.”

“Our choice of activities - we’re hanging out right now, so it’s collective,” you corrected.

“Fine - our choice of activities. Sitting and working and engaging in riveting discussions is all we do on other nights, so what makes this one any different?”

You paused. All week, you had been planning a surprise for him - a trip to a quaint little disco in the Hidden City you’d heard about from April. She’d sent you some pictures from when she’d gone with Sunita and Casey, and then the idea took root.

But it was easier said than done.

Planning to surprise your turtle was difficult primarily for two reasons: the snoop always found out about it in advance (which you’d avoided narrowly this time by not mentioning anything about any plans tonight) and, the most difficult part, trying to get him to choose to go out of the lair, the step you found yourself currently stuck on. Still, you were going to try.

“I don’t know,” you replied coolly, “maybe the fact that it’s supposed to be the end of the week, time to relax or go out or something?”

“Out?”

“Yes. Out. With me. Instead of holing yourself up in the lab or whatever,” you mumbled.

“Out where? Not a lot of Homo sapien-mutant-accepting entertainment establishments come to mind, and, much as I love pretending not to be myself,” he flicked his goggles back down and turned back to his workspace.“I don’t know if I’m really in the mood for it right now.”

“Well.” You didn’t want to say that you knew of one in particular because that sort of spoiled the surprise element of the night. Hesitantly, you suggested, “we can try to look for one?”

He sucked in a breath through his teeth, hand stopping just shy of picking up his welding tool once more. “I don’t know…”

“Could we please just give it a shot?” Hook.

You nudged his arm, mustering up the warmest look you had. Line. “Any time you want to come back or feel uncomfortable, we’re headed right back here.”

Donnie glanced back over to you, and you could discern the exact moment he caved. Sinker. “Sure.”

The next half hour consisted of throwing on sweatshirts, linking arms and whipping out of the lair straight toward one of the many entrances to the Hidden City.

As you wandered through portals, down ramps and bystreets, the turtle you were practically dragging along looked at you exceedingly more quizzically.

“Do you know where you’re going?” Donnie eventually muttered.

“What?” you asked incredulously, quite unconvincingly. “No, of course not. Just meandering randomly. What gave you that impression?”

“Oh, nothing - just the fact that you’re walking with assertion in a seemingly predetermined path.”

A subtle smirk worked its way onto your face. “Maybe.”

He scowled, lighthearted. “Oh, sweet Galileo- why mustn’t you ask me out with you straightforwardly when you already have plans?”

You pulled on his sleeve to direct you two left before pushing the entrance of your location open for him. “Because then I wouldn’t get to see the look on your face when I take you places like this.”

As soon as he stepped foot in the building, you saw the glow in his eyes, his radiant beam, and they were far more beautiful than the already gorgeous venue.

The pictures you’d seen of it looked good, but seeing it in person was even better; with the amber lights and colorful tiled-dance floor and overhead disco ball, the place looked like it was ripped straight out of the 80’s. 

“It’s a discotheque, baby!” you grinned, throwing an arm back around his shoulder. “Last one like this within, like, a thousand mile radius.”

“Woah!” Somehow his eyes lit up even more when he looked back at you. It was stunning. “How have I not heard of this place?”

“I mean, that checks out. April recommended it, and apparently it took Sunita forever to find somewhere with a more traditional disco - it only plays 70’s and 80’s hits. You’re welcome.”

Donnie was still stupefied. “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.”

“I heard they’ve got some tables over there for dining, and that the drinks from there-”

Your hand was gently snatched from the air where it was pointing at a countertop across the room. You looked down at the tridactyl hand holding it, then up its owner.

The turtle grinned, finally pulled from his daze and emphatically lucid. The look in his eyes bore a striking resemblance to the exact one you’d used to get him to agree to come here. “We can get into the dives and dining and whatnot later - for right now, care to dance?”

“I mean, I have a reservation for-”

Another hand on your waist was all it took to shut you up, and slowly walking backwards landed the both of you on floor, and pulling you closer resulted in the both of you grinning and spinning and dancing.

As a myriad of killer songs blasted from the front of the room, you found yourself inundated with a seeping, saccharine satisfaction, partially derived from doing the merengue and cha-cha and some deviant of the Cabbage Patch along with many more improvisations, but mostly from the sheer elation exuded by your dance partner.

Even as you two continued to bounce to Whitney or sway to Prince, his focus stayed on you, eyes locked, with scarcely a moment without a hand or arm making contact with you.

Somehow, just that affectionate attention, that carefree yet caring energy made the efforts of getting him into a social setting and keeping a surprise from the nosiest person in the world abundantly more than worth it.

[mynameismckenziemae]

All of Me

Part 8

(previous part here, next part here)

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x You

Summary: Nearly two weeks with no time alone with Jake makes you both a little reckless.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Smut, teasing, femdom, orgasm denial, edging, mentions of masturbation.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

Jake leaves shortly after he regains feeling in his limbs and you have to fight the urge to invite him back upstairs when he leaves you on the doorstep with the sweetest kiss.

Between baseball tournaments, a few night hops, finishing up the school year, and a medical emergency at the end of your work day, you don’t get any time alone with Jake in nearly 2 weeks.

Tentative plans are made via text to spend time together while Drew’s at camp and with only a few days left before he leaves, your thoughts keep drifting to Jake and all the fun the two of you are going to get up to.

So it’s hard not to be disappointed when you check your phone shortly before lunch.

Jake: We got ordered for carrier training this morning and have to report back at base by 1400 to ship out by 1500. I just got home to pack now so I’ll miss lunch but I’ll stop in to see you before I leave.

Reese: Okay, I don’t have any scheduled until 1400 today so I should be in my office.

Jake: See you soon.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

“Hey,” Jake knocks before entering your office.

A glance at the clock shows you’ve only got a few minutes before he has to head across base.

“Hi,” you peek your head into the deserted hallway before pushing the door closed. “Did they say how long you’ll be gone?”

“Should be back on Saturday sometime,” he replies, pulling you towards him the stethoscope hanging around your neck.

“Good,” you sigh in relief; he’s coming back the day Drew leaves so you’ll have most of the weekend together as planned.

“I can’t wait to spend some time with you. Just you,” he says. His expression tells you more than he is.

“I can’t either,” you murmur as you lean in to give him a quick kiss, but his hands tighten on your stethoscope, keeping you there to capture your lips again.

You’re not complaining though. You’ve missed this. You’ve missed him.

He’s already hard; straining against the front of his khakis and you swallow his surprised grunt when you palm him. His hands drop your stethoscope, one weaves into your hair while the other slides over your ass.

“Are you wearing underwear?” He pulls back, voice husky.

“I was,” you smile as you reach into your pocket to pull out the pair you slipped off a few minutes prior to show him, “earlier. Thought I’d send them with you though.”

He groans, cock twitching as he watches you stuff the silky red garment into his front pocket.

Good thing you had put a cute pair on this morning.

“You can touch yourself all you want while you’re gone,” you murmur, leaning forward to brush your lips across his neck, “but no cumming.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, guiding your lips back to his. But you stop him when he’s just a hair’s breadth away.

“What do you say?” You whisper, reveling in the shudder he tries to suppress.

“Yes ma’am,” he rasps.

“Good boy,” you praise, rewarding him with a kiss and more friction from your hand.

“Hey Kernsie, I’m heading-I fucking knew it!” Bradley’s voice is like being doused by a bucket of cold water and you spring apart.

“Jesus Roo!” You gasp, adrenaline coursing through you at being caught but relieved that it was by Bradley. “Ever heard of-“

“Don’t even say it,” Bradley says as he holds up his hand, knowing what’s on the tip of your tongue. “I didn’t think I’d need to knock when you’re at work,” he grimaces as he remembers the last time he didn’t knock and walked in on you and Andy in a much more compromised position. “You’re lucky I was the one who walked in.”

Jake turned away, not wanting Bradley to see the situation in the front of his pants, but nods as you do, realizing how stupid you two had just been.

“You’re right,” you sigh. “Won’t happen again. What’s up?”

“Well I assume you already know I’m heading out for a few days,” he smirks between you and Jake. “I’ll text Drew before we turn in our phones but give him a hug and tell him Uncle Roo says to have fun at camp.”

“I will,” you nod.

“How long have you guys been together? Does Drew know?” Bradley asks, folding his arms like he’s a dad about to give a lecture.

“We’re just friends,” Jake says, turning around with his hands over his groin.

You nod when Bradley looks to you for confirmation, refusing to let your face show how much it hurts to hear Jake say it.

It’s what you wanted.

Right?

“Friends that fuck,” Bradley says, again looking between you two.

“Yup,” you reply, not giving him anything else.

“Okay,” he shrugs and straightens up. “I’ll kick both your asses if you hurt each other.”

“Like you could,” you laugh, the tension breaking. “Remember the last time we got into a scuffle?”

“Never tickle her feet,” he tells Jake seriously. “Ever.”

Jake laughs. “Noted.”

“We better get going though,” Bradley says, checking his watch. “See ya, Kernsie.”

“Bye, be safe,” you tell him and turn to Jake when he walks out, leaving the door open behind him. “You be safe too.”

“I will,” he says, brushing his hand over yours.

“Don’t forget get what I said earlier,” you murmur.

Heat flashes in his eyes. “I won’t.”

“Good. See you Saturday,” you press a kiss to his cheek and check out his butt as he catches up to Bradley.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

“Just friends, eh?” Bradley asks when Jake falls in stride.

“Her choice, not mine,” Jake sighs.

“No way,” Bradley replies sarcastically with an eye roll. “Let me guess. She’s not looking for a relationship? Doesn’t have time?”

Jake nods.

“Typical Reese,” it’s Bradley’s turn to sigh. “She likes you though. More than just a friend.”

“What makes you think that?” Jake asks.

“I’ve known Reese for years; seen her at her highest highs and lowest lows. This has been going on for a while; like around the time she got back from her deployment?” Bradley asks, knowing the answer before Jake nods. “She’s been different; teasing me again, laughing more, getting lost in her thoughts less. I’ve even seen glimpses of the light in her eyes that went out when Andy died.”

Jake just nods again, not wanting Bradley to hear he’s getting choked up.

“I wondered if something was going on by the way you two were talking at Penny’s, and then she lit up when she saw you at Drew’s baseball game. Walking in on you two today confirmed it,” Bradley laughs. “Just be patient with her. She hasn’t dated since Andy and it scares her; she’s so protective over Drew and she doesn’t want to lose the relationship she has with Andy’s parents, even though they’ve both encouraged her to date again.”

“I will,” Jake says, clearing his throat. “I’m crazy about her; Drew too.”

“I can tell and you’d be good to them. Just be a little more careful at work from now on,” Bradley laughs at the way Jake flushes as they enter the briefing room.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

Later that afternoon, your phone buzzes with a text. But instead of Jake as you expected, it’s from Bradley.

Rooster: When are you going to put him out of his misery?

Reese: ?

Rooster: Jake. You like him.

Reese: Why wouldn’t I like him? He’s hot and good in bed.

Rooster: Have you forgotten how long I’ve known you? That I was there when you fell in love with Andy? You like him. More than just a friend.

Your heart pounds as you read his texts.

Reese: Is it that obvious?

Rooster: To me it is. Jake didn’t seem so sure when I told him.

Reese: You didn’t.

Rooster: Are we in middle school again? Too embarrassed to tell your crush you like him?

Reese: Oh fuck you 🖕🏻this is different and you know it.

Rooster: It is different. I know you’re scared and I get why. But you’re the only one standing in the way, Kernsie. Tina and Ron have given their blessing and Jake’s not going to interfere with that relationship. Drew adores him.

Reese: But what if it doesn’t work? What if he leaves? Then I’ve got to deal with my own broken heart and Drew’s.

Rooster: And what if it does work? Are you really going to deprive yourself and Drew of much-deserved happiness? Just because you’re scared?

Rooster: Quit being a pussy.

You laugh through the tears that have begun to fall.

Reese: Do you think Andy would approve?

Rooster: I know he would. He just wanted you to be happy and this is the happiest I’ve seen you since he’s been gone.

Reese: Okay.

Rooster: So?

Reese: I’ll think about it.

Your mind is already made up, but Rooster doesn’t need to know that.

Rooster: 🙄 You’re killing me.

Reese: I know ☺️

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

Jake reaches out right as you’re getting into bed.

Jake: Hey, still awake?

Reese: Yes, getting into bed.

Jake: Wish I was there.

Reese: I wish you were too. There is so much I want to do with you.

Jake: Fuck. I’m hard. Again. I have been most of the day.

Jake: Wish I could call but I’m bunking with Javy. I took a video earlier though, and wanted to show you how good it can be.

Reese: Can I see?

The video comes through moments later and what you see has arousal quickly pooling between your thighs.

Jake’s standing shirtless in front of the mirror in the small bathroom, boxers pushed down his thighs. Your silky underwear is in his hand; the hand he’s using to jerk himself. He’s flushed from his chest up, his eyes closed and expression a mix of pleasure and pain. It’s quiet but you can hear the desperate ‘uhs’ leaving him with each stroke.

His pace quickens and his abs begin to tense as he grows close. But suddenly he stops, brow furrowed as he grips the base of his cock tightly before he passes the point of no return with a strangled groan.

You reach into your bedside drawer as you type your reply.

Reese: Wow.

Reese: That was so fucking hot.

Reese: I’m pulling my vibrator out right now.

Jake: Oh God.

Jake: They just called lights out.

Jake: Fuck, I gotta go.

Reese: It’s okay. I’ll be thinking of you.

Jake: I’ll be thinking about you too. Night.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

You fall asleep with a smile 45 minutes later, after sending him a video of your own.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

The next 3 days crawl with no word from Jake.

Knowing that it’s training keeps you from worrying, but it doesn’t make the time go any faster. But good news comes via text Friday night as you help Drew finish packing

Jake: We’ll be stateside in a little over an hour.

Jake: Holy shit, your video just came through.

Jake: Reese. Oh my God.

Reese: 😘

Reese: Come over?

Jake: I’ll be there as soon as I can.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

A/N: I freaking hate this chapter. I feel like it didn’t flow, and I’m not a fan of the ending but I couldn’t find a good stopping point. Hopefully you like it better than I do.

Anyway, Bradley now knows…well he already knew but his suspicions were confirmed. 🤭

As always, any interaction is appreciated but I love hearing what you think in the comments/reblogs!

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[idyllic-ghost]

Title: Wear sunscreen!

Pairing: sugar daddy!Mingyu x sugar baby!reader

Warnings: dom/sub dynamics, reader calling mingyu daddy (but like only twice), head (masc receiving, implied fem receiving), praise, degradation, slight brat taming, not proof read !!!!

Genre: smut, pure filth

Synopsis: you forget to put on sunscreen and make your hot sugar daddy do it for you!

Rating: 18+

A/N: this is for @multi-kpop-fanfics, i hope you enjoy🫶 also, excuse the silly banner, i was having fun

MDNI

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

"Darling, did you remember to put on sunscreen?" Mingyu's voice woke you up from your slumber.

"Shit..." you mumble.

You had fallen asleep in the shadow but now you were halfway covered with sun - and Mingyu was casting most of that shadow. He was standing right in front of you, wearing black shorts and a white polo shirt that made him look like a hot sugar daddy - which is what he was. In fact, right now you were on his yacht and being paid to be on vacation with him.

"You forgot, didn't you?" He chuckled and grabbed the sunscreen bottle nearby.

"I was going to, but it felt so nice to lay down." You sighed and turned in your chair. "We were up and running all morning, you know."

"I know, baby, but you have to be careful," he crouched down in front of you.

"Could you put it on for me, honey?" You pouted in an attempt to persuade him so that you could keep laying down.

"Of course, I was about to offer," he said.

The part you loved most about Mingyu was how willing he was to please you. He loved seeing a big satisfied grin on your face, and you adored his pampering. This entire long weekend had been filled with pampering and big smiles.

Mingyu had brought you to a nice hotel, where you had spent an entire day and night together - doing nothing except laying in bed for the entire time. Then you had gone sightseeing and, if you hadn't stopped him from time to time, he would've bought you every souvenir that you even so much as looked at.

Finally, this morning you had walked down to the docks and gotten on his yacht. The plan was to stay there for the rest of the day. You had brought food and drinks, enough to last for the entire day and then some.

However, you had come to the yacht fully clothed - and hadn't bothered with full-body sunscreen that morning. Now that you were in a bikini, felt that the extra protection was of the utmost importance - you just didn't want to have to do it yourself.

Mingyu sat down beside you on the sun lounger and squirted out some sunscreen on his hand. You laid on your stomach and untied the string to your bikini top, so that he could get his hands all over your back without interruption - and maybe because you wanted to tease him as well.

"Thank you, Gyu," you said as he began massaging your back.

You heard him chuckle at the sweet nickname. It was one of his favorites, which you knew very well and frequently used to your advantage.

Mingyu's hands were softly pressing down on your back muscles as he spread the sunscreen across your skin. Involuntary noises escaped your lips at the feeling - soft whimpers, quiet moans, and pleads of "yes" and "right there". It wasn't as if you were completely unaware of what you were doing. Mingyu's hands did feel good, but maybe you were exaggerating just a little. When he finished putting the sunscreen on your back and arms he stood up, presumably to go wash his hands.

"Gyu?" You leaned on your elbows and looked over at him.

Your bikini top had fallen off, laying on the chair beneath you, and since your arms were barely covering anything he could see the profile outline of your tits. Mingyu looked over at you, clearly having trouble looking you in the eye.

"Yes, darling?" His ears were burning red - as if he wasn't getting turned on before, you were making it harder and harder for him to resist.

"You forgot the rest!" you giggled and wiggled your ass slightly to get his attention.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The sunscreen bottle had been thrown to the side once Mingyu's hands had been all across your body, making sure to cover every inch. Now you were kneeling in front of him, his hard cock on display in front of your face. Mingyu slapped his big length gently against the side of your face.

"Gonna repay me for helping you out, baby?" he asked with a lazy grin.

"Yes, daddy," you mumbled and captured your bottom lip between your teeth.

The sight of his cock always had your mouth watering - and now, with the open waters all around you where anyone could happen to sail past, it made you drench your bikini bottoms as well. You smiled when you saw him pumping his cock a few times, preparing himself for you. You put your tongue out and pressed it against the base of his cock, licking a stripe up to his tip to put his entire cock in your mouth.

"Take all of it, baby, that's right," he breathed out.

You hummed at his praise, taking him deeper and deeper until the tip of your nose met with his lower stomach. Mingyu groaned, threading his fingers through your hair to hold you in place for a moment. Your hands perched on his thick thighs, gently clawing at them. When he finally let go of your hair, you pulled off of him with a gasp. A string of saliva connected your tongue to the reddened tip of his cock. Your eyes found him, looking for praise for your good efforts.

"Pretty baby," he hummed, "You look so beautiful when your mouth is stuffed with my cock. You know that, don't you?"

You hummed and straightened your back slightly, ready to take him in your mouth again. This time you started sucking on his tip, keeping eye contact with him while lewd whines and sloppy noises vibrated around him. When you began bobbing your head up and down, you finally got to hear Mingyu let out a moan. It made your cunt throb for some attention. Even though you should know better, you always enjoyed being a brat. One of your hands went down to your clit, and you started rubbing your pussy on top of the material of your bikini. Mingyu was busy throwing his head back, and it wasn't until you were moaning around his cock that you got his attention.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked as he pulled your head off his cock by your hair.

"Don't you want me to feel good, Gyu?" You pouted and didn't move your hand from your aching cunt. "Can you hear how wet I am? You should take it as a compliment, baby"

You grinned and put your head on one of his thighs. At first he only watched as you whored yourself out for him; moaning loudly, grinding against your hand, and shutting your eyes tight in pleasure. After some time, you were surprised that he wasn't stopping you. You opened your eyes and saw that he was staring at you. It had gone far enough where you were about to cum, and him looking at you so disapprovingly, but even more aroused, only made you come closer to the edge.

"Are you gonna cum, darling?" His voice was laced with lust.

"Yeah..." You clawed at his thigh. "I'm so close, daddy-"

Mingyu suddenly ripped your hand away from your crotch, ruining the orgasm you were about to approach. You whined and pleaded, but his grip was strong around your wrist.

"Brats don't get to cum," he said and stood up. "But if you can show me you're not a brat, I'll make you cum as many times as you want. Can you show me what a good slut you are, baby? Gonna let me fuck your face?"

You nodded feverishly, and opened your mouth. Tasting his cock again made you close your eyes and moan, but he stopped you by pulling on your hair.

"You're gonna look at me while I fuck your face, yeah?"

After humming and trying to nod, Mingyu began softly thrusting into your mouth. You could handle this, you thought to yourself, but soon enough he had you gagging, saliva dripping down your chin and tears flooding in your eyes. His thrusts were sharp, and all you could do was grip onto his thighs. If you even so much as thought of moving them to where you needed them, he'd pull on your hair and remind you that "good sluts don't touch themselves without permission".

When Mingyu got close to the edge, he began twitching in your mouth and growing more sloppy in his movements. You urged him on by moaning around his cock. The vibrations was enough to make him cum, as he soon after shot his load down your throat. When he had finished he pulled you off his cock and you slumped down. Mingyu was immediately by your side, cooing at how well you did and how good you are.

"Can you make me cum now?" Was all you whispered out.

Mingyu grinned widely, picking you up and putting you back on the sun lounger. He made himself comfortable between your thighs.

"How many can you take?" he asked and ripped off the rest of your bikini.

[kimberly-spirits13]

Imagine You’re in School with Jason (AP Lit Style)

You’ve been basic friends for a while

Just the type that can have a good laugh but don’t know everything about each other

He’s probably not the first person you’d go to if you’re upset about something but he’s still considered a friend

That is until you start having all your classes together

I’d imagine that if you’re like me, your both taking the most AP classes that you like

AP Lit is the favorite

He loves Anna Karenina because it’s like a TLC show for the Victorian Russians

Jason is a stationary guy, so in class he’s got washi tape to mark chapter sets, non bleed highlighters, microns, little post its, see through post-its, book marks, nice mechanical pencils and refills, and it’s all in a brown leather pencil case

He likes Socratic seminars because he likes to talk about the books

He likes essays but always have to have a page limit given to him because he will write a full book about his thoughts on the book

In class, he’s always asking you what you think about something and he likes that you two can keep up with each other

I don’t think he’s the boy to be hyper concerned with grades, but because he understands his lessons, he naturally makes pretty good grades

You’re assigned a group project where you and Jason decide to partner up to do a poster of Anna Karenina

When you come over to his house for the English project, he has all the supplies and he suddenly realizes that he’s a bit embarrassed about it

“So Alfred (me) may have gone a bit overboard but we can do something simple if you’d like- or idk make it nice”

Please help this man decorate this stupid poster board

Alfred makes your favorite type of drink or gets it, makes food, you two put on a movie or some music, and get to work

“So what do you think is important about Karenin and Vronsky having the same first names?”

“I think it’s important for theme that Anna was introduced with a train and died by train”

“Betsy is a bitch”

He loves to talk about it with you

Once you’re done with the project, he asks you to come over and do homework together

If you’re a vigilante, you’ll do patrol after because you two connect the dots quickly

If you’re normal, suddenly Jason has to run off and says Alfred will take you home but we’ll talk about that another day

For time purposes, we’ll say that you quickly find out about his patrol life

I mean dude comes bruised, he gets called to the basement a lot, he’s a true crime buff, sometimes he goes missing for hours, and it’s Gotham like come on everyone might as well be a vigilante or smt

Dick teases Jason about you two, especially when you’re over

You can’t help that you get cold watching the 6 hour long Pride and Prejudice movie and Jason is right there like come on Dick

Jason is lokey blushing soooo hard if you cuddle up next to him or even if you’re on the same couch

You two start to become inseparable at school

Not in a pda way but like a “I mean we might as well just hang out all the time” kind of way

Automatically becomes your date to any sort of school function

Even if it’s an unspoken thing that you two will be each other’s date, he still gets you flowers and asks you to go with him

Dick eventually pushes him to ask you out because “for real dude we all know you’re crushing”

Jason is a tall dude, towers over everyone, bulked up, dark hair, dark blue eyes, he’s gorgeous and everyone else are the ones intimidated by him

But when he asks you out he is so nervous

I mean the logical part of him is pretty sure that you’ll like him back, but the irrational part is terrified that he is about to mess up your friendship

He asks you at the end of the school day on a Friday incase you say no, there’s a weekend to get over it and he won’t ruin both of y’all’s days by asking during first period or something

When you say yes he’s like “😱” and a part of him is reborn or smt dramatic like that

He basically speeds home and endures the lecture from Alfred on reckless driving

He’s even more excited that you asked if he wanted to go to the park or the bookstore

And he’s like YESSSSSSSSSSS

You two have enormous text message conversations and he likes to FaceTime

Please I think he’s a hot chocolate junkie

He’s got all sorts of mugs ranging from regular white ones to fandom ones

Sweat pants king and he’ll give you any sweat set you want

Or oversized t shirts

He thinks pda at school it gross (it is) so he keeps it on the down low but he’ll definitely hug you or run his fingers through your hair if one of you needs it

He likes playing with your hair because it’s soothing

Please watch documentaries and period dramas with him

Or book to screen adaptations that are good

[sweetheart-satoru]

ethereal

you wanted him, but you knew he could have so much better

author's note: omg guys i literally never write angst and i haven't written in soooo longggg, i got lazy in the end. i first wrote this october 8th 2022 and now im editing and adding more (and writing pt 2) on july 27th 2023 😭 😭 😭 

part two here !!

he's one of the prettiest people you have ever seen. it's not fair how he can't be yours. gojo satoru. the strongest jujutsu sorcerer. your best friend. you love him, but he doesn't love you like that. "y/n-chan!" he walks and waves towards you.

it hurts to know he isn't and most definitely won't be yours. you're weak, he's strong. he's beautiful, you're not. he's everything you want and needs. but you aren't what he needs. you know someone else can fulfill the job of being someone who he actually needs. not you. never you.

"hi. how was your weekend, were you busy? you didn't reply to my texts." he pouts. "hi." is all you say back to him, grabbing your books and closing your locker. how is he so energetic this early? he squinted his eyes in confusion before a couple of girls approached him. you don't bother trying to listen to whatever they say.

you've read all his texts, just purposely turning off the read receipts so he doesn't notice. you've gotten many texts such as;

satoru: hi (nickname)

satoru: we should go out and watch horror movies >:)

-

satoru: helloooo?? it's been days :((

satoru: did you get your phone taken away??

-

satoru: y/nnnn i saw you post your dog on ig

satoru: are you ignoring me?

satoru: are you mad??

-

and lots more plus missed calls.

you stand right beside him as he talks to girls much prettier than you. most of them have the ugliest personality you have ever seen, but you know how your best friend goes for the prettier things.

you bite your lip and walk away to your next class. once he notices you're gone he calls out to you, "don't leave without me, y/n-chan!" god, even his voice is beautiful. how could you ever be friends with someone like him? why would he ever want to be friends with someone like you? you don't deserve him.

you don't say anything, you just hug your books closer to your chest and continue your way. "y/n-chan?" he asks, slowing down behind you, "hm?" you turn around.

"are you mad at me?" you shake your head, "no." you don't bother giving him any type of reaction. "yes, you are." you shake your head again, "i'm not." he frowns.

"liar." he pokes your cheek with his finger, "you haven't looked or talked to me since last thursday, it's wednesday." you push his finger away, "i'm not mad." he rolls his tongue into his cheek, grabbing your wrist. you turn to pull away but he gives you a look that reads, 'don't bother, i'm not letting go.'

"just tell me what is it. did i do something?"

"no."

"well, i clearly did something to make you not want to talk to me." you shrug, "i'm just tired." now it's his turn to shake his head, "no, it's me, isn't it? every time you see utahime, nanami, haibara, suguru, or ieiri you're happy but whenever i try and open my mouth around you, you just look the other way and ignore me. what's wrong?"

"i said it's nothing." you pull your wrist back, "let's just go to class." you two walk in silence as he tries to remember if he did something wrong.

[kteezy997]

GIVE US THE NEXT PART RNNN

Daddy's Boy-Part 11

warnings: allusions to sex/baby making

“Timothée, do you take y/n to be your wife?” asked the preacher looking at the young man to his right.

“Yes.” Timmy smiled, “I do.” He gave your hands the sweetest squeeze, he was fidgety, shifting on his feet. You knew all he wanted was to kiss you, and to have this thing be over with so he could call you his wife, finally.

“And, y/n, do you take Timothée-"

“I do.” you blurted out. You didn’t even register the words as they came out of your mouth before the preacher had even finished his question.

Timmy grinned and let out a laugh, as did your wedding guests, even the preacher had a chuckle. You blushed, feeling a little embarrassed in front of all of your family and friends, but you looked into Timmy's eyes, and you were grounded back into him and this wonderful moment.

“Well alright then,” said the preacher, “Timothée, you may kiss your bride.”

Your boy wasted no time and pulled you into the most tender of kisses. You rested your hands on his face as his warm touch was on your hips. He pulled away from the kiss, put his forehead in yours, “I love you, wife.”

“I now present to you, the new Mr. and Mrs. Chalamet." the preacher said loudly, followed by a mass of applause.

.......

That weekend, you and Timmy were set to leave for a brief honeymoon. You had told him that you didn't wish to go anywhere expensive or fancy at this time, you only wanted to go somewhere quiet and cozy so the two of you could enjoy spending time alone.

You opted for a nice cottage out in the countryside. Only a couple of hours from home, it would be the perfect getaway for you as newlyweds.

"So, are we going to tell him about the baby before we leave?" Timmy asked you as you were settling into bed the night before your trip.

"No, I'm thinking we should wait until we have a sonogram photo to show him. He'll be more excited seeing what is in my belly rather than us just telling him, you know?"

"Yeah, I get that. He'll definitely understand that there's a real baby in there." he said, laying down in bed with you and pulling you close. He rested his hand on your stomach. "Is it okay if I touch your belly, like all the time?"

"Yes." you kissed his cheek as your heart fluttered, "It is perfectly fine. I want you to feel close to our baby."

Timmy hummed happily, kissing your lips in return, ""You're gonna make me a daddy again. I love you so much." he brushed his nose against yours, and his curls tickled your face. "I can't wait to make love for three days straight." he smirked, "I hope you're ready, wife."

You giggled, caressing his jaw with your fingers, "I love you too, husband. Let's hope morning sickness doesn't kick in for me while we are away."

"Aw, I don't want it to happen to you at all, I hate it when you don't feel good." Timmy pouted and put his hand to your cheek.

"I didn't have much sickness when I was pregnant with Theo, so hopefully this time around it will be the same."

"If you didn't get sick, then how did you know you were pregnant with him?" Timmy asked.

"Well, my I missed my period, and my boobs were super sore."

"Hmm, well if your boobs start to hurt this time around, just let me know and I'll massage them for you." he grinned.

"I bet you would." you giggled, kissed him one last time, then said, "Okay, time for sleep, we have a bit of a drive tomorrow, Chalamet." You then settled down onto your pillow and pulled the blanket over yourself.

"Alright, goodnight, Chalamet." Timmy replied, laying down and snuggling you.

…..

“But who am I gonna play basketball with while you’re gone Dad?” you heard your five-year-old whine to Timmy as you carried your luggage out of the bedroom.

“It’s only three days, buddy. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Three days is a long time!" Theo grumbled.

You handed your bag over to your husband, giving him a look that said, ‘I’ve got this.’

Timmy gave you a wink, then picked up all of your bags to take them out to the car.

“Listen, young man,” you began, kneeling down to your boy’s level, “I know you’ll miss Daddy-"

“I’ll miss you too, Mommy.” he said, interrupting you.

You smiled, “Thank you. I was about to say that when Dad and I get back from our trip, Mommy has to go to the doctor.”

“Why? Are you sick?”

“No, no. It’s nothing like that. But if all goes well, we will have some really good news to share with you.”

Theo smiled, “Okay, I hope the doctors say good things. And don’t be scared of the doctor Mom, they are there to take care of you. Just like Daddy says.”

“That’s exactly right. So, I’m not afraid.” you agreed, kissing his forehead, “I love you, my boy. See you in three days, and be good for grandma and grandpa, okay?”

Theo nodded, “Okay. I love you, Mommy.”

As you hugged your son, you noticed Timmy come back inside. “I’m gonna go to the car. Say goodbye to Daddy so we can get going, alright?” you said to Theo, and he nodded again, understanding that the time had come to let his parents leave.

You walked away toward the door, stopping to watch Timmy pick Theo up in a warm hug. “I love you. We will FaceTime every day, okay?” Timmy said.

It was a little silly to get out of sorts over three days apart. But you realized that this would be the longest they had ever been separated, so it was big adjustment for both of them. They were father and son, but also best friends and absolutely inseparable.

........

You stopped at a convenience store for some drinks and snacks for the two-hour road trip, and Timmy started driving.

"I love Theo to death but I'm glad to have some time away with you." Timmy admitted, keeping one hand on the wheel and placing the other on your thigh.

"Yeah, it's gonna be a great time. I'm ready to just sit and relax." you added, putting your hand on top of his as you both watched the road ahead.

"I"m not gonna let you relax too much, though. If you weren't already pregnant now, you would be impregnated on this honeymoon." he said, and you smirked to yourself as you noticed his cheeky grin in the rearview mirror above your heads.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @lixzey @bitchyunknownuser @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @elloise0 @@thatoneweirdgirl17 @mel-vaz @sammy-halpert @iwishchalamet @briefkittenearthquake @that-one-fangirl69 @jindongdongie

[f1goat]

mistake(s) x lando norris + part nine

In which you keep making the same mistake over and over again by fucking the boy you hate the most.

masterlist - playlist

part one part two part three part four part five part six

warnings: smut but with a plot, 18+ | english is not my first language fem!verstappen reader x lando norris

The door didn’t open that night. You don’t know if Lando didn’t hear you, wasn’t home, was sleeping or was ignoring you on purpose. You can only hope he didn’t ignore you on purpose, but you’re afraid he did. When he didn’t open the door for you the next times, you decided it was better to give up. It’s useless. You have contacted him every way you knew of, but it was no use. He didn’t open the door for you. He didn’t react to your messages on every social platform and he didn’t respond when you send him a letter. 

It’s done. He’s gone out of your life. 

And now you have to find a way to deal with it.

Last days you have spend all your time studying. Focussing still is hard, but you’re managing. Days are going slow and fast on the same time. Every day feels the same. You’re home or at school and in both cases you’re busy studying. Weeks are passing by. 

Graduation is coming closer and closer. You’re working even harder then ever to make sure you’ll pass. Your exams are all passed, but you still have to turn in a research paper. Some days you think you’ll manage, other days you think you’ll just fuck this up as well. That would be nothing new for you. 

“Y/N, start packing,” Max marches into your room while talking to you. Before you can even ask for what you need to be packing, he continues to talk. “I’m done with your self pity, you’re coming to the race weekend with me,” Max tells you. 

“No,” you reply quickly. No way that you’re going with him. What if you see Lando?

You don’t want to see him anymore. It’s almost a month ago since your fight with him. It’s been two weeks since you knew for sure it wouldn’t be fixed anymore. Max never told you, but even he couldn’t get Lando to come around. You follow enough gossip accounts to know about Lando his recent activities. Every night he seems to be out, every time he’s pictured with another girl. It’s always the same kind of photograph. Just a different kind of girl. But they are all beautiful enough to make you jealous. 

One time you asked Max about those girls. He didn’t tell you what Lando did with them. It told you enough. Lando’s back to his old ways. 

“Yes. I’ll drag you with me if I have to,” Max states, “I’m done with this awful self pity you and Lando both have. If you weren’t idiots like this, everything would have been fixed already. Match made in fucking heaven,” he continues to say annoyed.

+++

It only took you twenty minutes around the paddock to see him again. It’s Friday. Max dragged you with him to the paddock for today, after you spend the whole Thursday into your hotel room. First practice will start in a small hour. Everyone is around the paddock. You were already afraid that this would happen. You’re thankful that Max is next to you. Or better said, you’re thankful that you’re not alone with him. 

“Why did you told me to meet you here when you’re with her?” Lando asks angrily to your brother.

Max caused this meet up? You can’t even say you’re surprised. 

It hurts you that Lando doesn’t look at you. He doesn’t even say your name. In the mean time, you can’t stop looking at him. He looks bad. Or better said, he still is handsome but he looks tired and worn out. He has massive bags underneath his eyes. It looks like he didn’t sleep for weeks. Then you remember the pictures of him at all the night clubs. Who wouldn’t look like this when partying this much?

“You two have to talk,” Max simply states. He doesn’t seem impressed by the anger from his friend. 

Lando fake laughs. “We have talked,” he grunts, “and she made her choice.” 

Is he really acting like you aren’t standing right in front of him?

“I didn’t know,” you softly say. 

“You didn’t know what?” Lando asks you annoyed, “You didn’t know that it was more then sex for me? Maybe if you weren’t so fucking oblivious you would have noticed that I don’t have sex with the same girl more then once and that I don’t take girls on dates. And I certainly don’t organize dates for them.”

“Lan-"

“Don’t,” he interrupts you, “I don’t want to hear anything else from you. It was nothing more to you, so don’t start acting like it was.”

“It was more,” you try to tell him. 

“Don’t lie to me,” Lando replies angrily.

“I’m not!” You yell out annoyed. 

“If it was more for you, you wouldn’t have broken it off like you did,” Lando tells you. 

“I-”

“I never want to see you again,” Lando states after interrupting you again. 

His words make you mad. His whole behavior makes you mad. Yes, you have made a mistake. Yes, you were the one who fucked it up. But you have spend weeks to make it alright with him. You don’t think about your following actions. Lando tries to leave, but you grab his arm. He turns around to you, looking even more mad then before. 

“I tried to talk to you,” you state, “multiple times,” you add. 

“I don’t want to talk with you anymore,” Lando replies. He tries to undo himself from your grip. 

“Oh sorry, I forgot that you’re way better off without me. Must be great to party every night, to bring back home a new girl to fuck every night as well and walk around like some sort of zombie,” you tell him frustrated. 

“You don’t know anything about that,” Lando groans.

“Maybe I didn’t ruin anything for you after all. You seem to be more then fine with sex with other girls.”

“Shut up,” Lando grunts.

“And while you’re busy fucking them, I can’t even focus on my graduation paper. It’s safe to say you’re the one who ruined me.”

After those words you walk away. Lando walks away as well in the opposite direction. Max is still standing on the same place as before. This is even a bigger mess then he already thought. He doesn’t think about following either of you. He just walks towards the RedBull mother home and decides to stop intervening in this mess. 

+++

Lando can’t focus for the rest of the race weekend anymore. He can only think about you. Not that it’s new for him. His focus never shifts away from you. He tries to forget about you every night by clubbing, but he never manages. He tries to talk to as many girls that he can, only to find someone who can distract him of you. But no one can. He gets your words, but you don’t know anything about it. Of course he isn’t fucking with other girls, let alone a different girl every night. He can’t even think about sex with someone else. Instead he’s wanking every night while thinking about you. 

He has been a mess lately. He was so mad after you broke things off with him. Of course he has been mad at you, but he was also mad at himself. How could his own mind give him hope that you would like him back? He decided that it was better for him to don’t speak to you anymore. So he ignored everything you did. 

When he’s in the car on Sunday he can’t even focus on racing. He keeps thinking about his last conversation with you. Has he been to harsh? Maybe he has been a dick the last month. He read all of your messages, he heard it every time you were at his door, but he didn’t do shit. Fuck. You tried to fix things, but he didn’t gave you any chance. 

He’s not even surprised when he is braking way too late and spinning of the race track. 

That’s what you get for not focussing on racing.

He doesn’t even care about missing points. He can only think of you. Is there any way for him to fix things?

You are. You gasp when you see Lando spinning. It’s nothing for him to make mistakes like this. It doesn’t take long before he is off the track. You watch how Lando gets out of the car. Then you doubt about your options. Should you do something? You doubt about finding him, but when you think about it you’re pretty sure Lando doesn’t want to see you. 

But maybe he does want to fuck you? Maybe that would be a nice solution for a lot of problems. Let him fuck his frustrations out. Perhaps you can even talk like normal people after that.

Without thinking about it you start to walk to the McLaren motor home. What should you do? Last time you got in rather easily, but you don’t know how Lando will react when you’re standing in his driver room without any warning. You doubt about texting him, but that has probably no use since he doesn’t have his phone yet. You continue to walk. 

When you’re standing in front of the motor home a mechanic is quick to stand in front of you. You decide to use the same excuse as the last time. 

“Hey, I’m here for Lando,” you say, “He told me to wait in his driver room.”

“Nice try,” the mechanic tells you, “but Lando told everyone to not let anyone in his driver room anymore unless he told us before hand.”

You sigh and turn around. It has no use. You simply get back to the RedBull motorhome to continue to watch the race.

When Lando gets back to his motorhome later, his team asks him multiple questions. He notices the way Zac looks at him. How everyone looks at him. They think he’s fucking it up on purpose. It’s obvious. It’s one of the mechanics who finally starts about something else.

“I stopped a girl from getting in to your drivers room,” he tells Lando.

Lando doesn’t pay attention at first. It’s nothing new.

“But I think if you saw her, you would be sorry that I told her to leave,” the mechanic jokes.

“Was she that beautiful?” Someone else asks.

“That too, but I also believe she is the sister of Max Verstappen? I don’t know for sure,” the mechanic explains, “but she was really beautiful too.”

That got Lando his attention. 

“Was Y/N here?” He asks surprised. 

The mechanic nods. 

“And she wanted to get into my drivers room?”

“Yes, she told me that you said she could wait there for you.”

Fuck. Another missed opportunity. What does he need to do now? Lando sighs. Since when is everything so messy in his life? He regrets his earlier mean words to you. What if he was a bit more calm? Could you two have worked it out then?

+++

You haven’t seen Lando since that day. But today you don’t want to think about him anymore today. It’s the day you worked towards the most in years. You have graduated and today you’ll finally get your paper. 

“Ready?” Max asks you, you show him a small nod. Together you step inside his car. To your luck, the graduation isn’t happening during race week. Meaning that Max will be there with you. Max drives off. You can’t suppress a small smile. This is going to be your day. You deserve it. 

Lando is nervously sitting inside of his car. He checks his watch for the tenth time in a few minutes. He is early. He rolls the sleeves of his blouse a bit up. Was it already this hot in his car? He doubts about his plan, more because the lack off it, and decides to step out of his car. Lonely and uncomfortable he walks towards the big building in front of him. 

In all his years, he never stepped a foot in a University. He’s glad Max texted him a description of the route he should take. Otherwise he would be lost in a couple minutes probably. He thinks about his actions again. Is this the right thing to do? Max texted him about this a few weeks prior and since then Lando has been doubting about what to do. But, he’s here. 

A big part of him thinks it’s a bad idea. This is suppose to be your day and by being here he will make this about him as well. But he couldn’t miss it. In the months he was close with you, he saw your hard work. He wants to see how it pays off. He wants to be here for this important event in your life. 

He takes a seat when he arrives at the right place. He notices that family and students are walking in. He spots Max, who spots him quickly as well. Max walks towards him and takes place next to him. 

“You made the right decision,” Max says. 

Lando doesn’t look at his friend. He doesn’t want to miss any second of the sight of you. He starts to get afraid that he already missed you. 

“I hope so,” he tells Max.

He hasn’t seen you in a month. You didn’t came to the race weekends anymore. Max told him it wasn’t because of him, but that you were busy with graduating. That’s one of the reasons why he decided to leave you be. You were too busy for drama with him. It took him a lot of strength, but he didn’t contact you last month. 

Lando knows for sure he can’t miss the sight of you when you walk into the room. It’s impossible to miss the entrance of someone who looks like you. It’s absurd how beautiful you look. Lando almost feels like a dick when he can’t stop thinking about fucking you while you look like this. It’s unfair what you are doing to him. Not that he’s surprised that you’re still doing this to him. 

Proudly Lando watches the ceremony. He applauses for everyone who walks up the stage to get their diploma, but his most sincere applause is for you. He feels so proud of you. 

The ceremony is over and Lando is standing next to Max in a big room. There are some waiters going around with drinks, he notices that you took a couple. He doesn’t want to ruin your celebrations. Lando is sure that he will ruin your day when he shows you that he is here.

“You should say hi to her,” Max tells him. 

“I don’t know,” Lando sighs, “What if I ruin her day?”

“I think you’ll only make it better,” Max states.

Lando still doesn’t budge. He keeps standing in the same spot. The spot where he can look at you perfectly. He watches how you make small conversations with others from your study. He notices the way other boys look at you. Maybe he should just leave? There are more then enough others who will treat you way better probably. He discard that thought when he notices a familiar boy. Is that Joshua who you’re talking with? 

Something tells him that this is the moment to walk to you. But he also knows that the chance is there that he will cause a scene. Lando still decides to get closer to you. When he’s almost near you, he hears to words Joshua says. 

“Maybe we can try again?”

You whimper at the idiotic words Joshua just told you. “We can’t,” you simply state. You notice the look on Joshua his face getting more mad. He’s probably not used to hearing no, you think.

“Why not?” Joshua asks you, he is quick to add another question. “Is it because of that Lando guy? You can’t tell me you fell for him.” 

You let out a soft sigh. You did think about Lando during the ceremony. You wondered how it would be when the two of you didn’t ruin the things between you. Would he have come then? Would he be proud at you for graduating? You like to think so. 

“You know what Joshua,” you say harshly, “I did actually fell for him.”

Lando hears your words. It’s the first time he actually hears you say them. Max told him many times before, but he never wanted to believe him until you said it yourself. And now you’re even saying it to Joshua. 

“You’re an idiot.” Joshua laughs, “as if someone like him will fall for someone like you. Don’t you see Y/N? You’re opposites.” 

Lando doesn’t think about his next move. He slides his arm around your waist and pulls you close to himself. He shivers because of the contact he missed so much. 

“That’s why it works so well,” he then tells Joshua, “so fuck off mate.”

You look next to you. Is this actually happening? Lando doesn’t wait for you to reply, he takes you with him to a less crowded spot. He can only hope you’re not mad at him. You don’t know what to think. Since when is he here? How did he know about your graduation? What is he doing here? You haven’t heard from Lando in a month and now he’s suddenly at your graduation? 

“What are you doing here?” Is the first thing you ask him when you’re finally alone with Lando.

“I uh,” Lando stutters a bit. He had thought about this multiple times, but what does he need to tell you? “I.. I.. Max told me about today and uh, I wanted to be here I guess.”

“You wanted to be at my graduation?” You ask surprised.

Lando nods. “I didn’t want to miss it. You worked so hard for this,” he tells you honestly. 

“I don’t get it,” you say confused, “We fought the last time, then I didn’t hear from you for a month and now you here?”

Lando understands your confusion. He has been acting weird. “I uh, Max told me how busy you were with graduating, I didn’t want to be a distraction.. So I thought I could better wait till after your graduation before contacting you again,” he explains eventually. 

“That’s stupid,” you sigh, “but also really sweet of you.” 

“You look beautiful,” Lando compliments you, “and you did amazing. Max told me about your grades, you’re so smart.” 

“Not smart enough apparently,” you joke lightly.

“What do you mean?” Lando asks a bit confused.

“I didn’t figure it out,” you explain, “I ruined things between us, because I thought you’d never like me back.” 

“Let’s talk later,” Lando tells you, “First we’re going to celebrate you. This is about your graduation.”

You smile. Without thinking about it you turn yourself closer to Lando. He wraps his arms around your body, pulling you into his while doing so. You look at him. He looks better then the last time you saw him. Lando lifts up your chin a bit before pressing his lips against yours. You shiver from the feeling. You have missed this. 

Later that night Lando is taking you home with him. You’re sitting next to him in his car. Today was an absolute blessing, one you didn’t expect for the one tiniest bit. Who would have guessed that Lando would show up at your graduation? You certainly not. You feel happy about today, but you know that you still have to talk with Lando about everything that happened. 

You decide to start about the subject, how sooner it’s over how better. Tonight you want to enjoy your time with Lando without having to worry. 

“I’m sorry about how I stopped things between us,” you tell Lando, “I should have told you the truth instead of not giving you any reason.” 

“What was the reason?” Lando asks. His focus shifts to you. 

“I fell for you,” you confess, “and I didn’t believe that you were feeling the same.”

Lando laughs softly. “You’re really oblivious,” he tells you. That’s something you have heard a couple times before now. Max kept calling you that as well. 

“Do you actually believe that I don’t have any feelings for you?” Lando asks you. 

“I didn’t think so at the moment,” you confess.

“I can’t really call you dumb on your graduation day, but otherwise I would have said you’re a bit dumb,” Lando laughs. “How can you think I didn’t have any feelings for you? I changed for you. Maybe I didn’t show you enough, but I actually bettered myself only with the hopes you would give me a chance.”

Lando parks his car. Together you walk inside his home. You look at him. 

“You look better then the last time I saw you,” you tell him.

“I sleep a bit more,” Lando replies.

You think back about all the gossip about him and the other girls. You cringe. Maybe you should ask him about it? 

“No more partying?” You ask him.

“No,” Lando answers, “It didn’t even help.”

“With what?”

“Forgetting you,” Lando sighs, “I tried to forget about my feelings for you by getting drunk every night, but it didn’t do shit.”

“And the girls?” You ask bitterly.

“What girls?”

“The girls you fucked. A new one every night.”

Lando laughs. You start to feel irritated. 

“I didn’t fuck anyone,” Lando explains, “Every time one of them got to close, I would tell her to go. It annoys me when anyone else than you touches me. I didn’t tell you for nothing that you ruined it for me.”

“You didn’t fuck anyone else?” 

“Of course not.”

“Thank god,” you say relieved. 

“What about you?” Lando asks you. 

“As if,” you laugh, “I couldn’t even focus on my study let alone on someone else. You were the only one on my mind.”

“Be mine.”

You don’t know if it’s a question or a command, but you don’t care. There’s nothing else that you want as much as this. 

“I’m already yours,” you tell Lando. 

“And I’m yours,” Lando says back relieved.

“Make love to me?” 

Lando doesn’t verbally reply to your question. He pulls you closer to himself and presses his lips against yours. It doesn’t take long for you to end up upstairs in his bedroom. 

that's it everyone :) the end of this series ! i'm not sure about something new yet, but maybe it will come. thanks everyone for reading & interacting! ly

[nolita-fairytale]

don't want to walk alone | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader | part two: august

summary: you head down to savannah, georgia with syd, sugar, liz, and maya for a not-bachelorette weekend.

warnings: swearing, eventual smut, lots of tooth rotting fluff, marriage, no use of y/n, second person pov, she/her pronouns

wc: 5.5k

a/n: it's finally heeeeere!!! i know i've gotten quite side tracked with my luca fic, but chapter two of don't want to walk alone is finally here thank god. anyways, this is a carmy-lite chapter, but i think this is just as important. enjoy, besties. chapter three is thee wedding, so it may take a while for me to get that one out and honestly, i like taking my time with this one. i have some very fun ideas and yes we will be getting honeymoon smut don't worry. please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist.

part one | masterlist | part three

Thursday

“Hey, did Syd go out already?” you hear Natalie ask, causing you to pause what you’re doing. 

You’re in the middle of laying out the gifts you’ve brought for your friends for the weekend, as a thank you for coming to Savannah to help you find a wedding dress. You’re not looking for anything extravagant – you are eloping at the courthouse after all – but it felt like a good excuse to get your best friends together for the weekend too. While you’ve spent most of your time planning this trip insisting that it’s not a bachelorette party, it’s certainly beginning to feel like one. 

“Just because we’re not doing a big wedding thing doesn’t mean we can’t do a pre-wedding girls’ trip,” you’d explained to Liz and Maya over your group FaceTime. 

“Hmmm, sounds a bit like a bachelorette party,” Maya had observed with every intent of provoking you.

“It’s not a bachelorette party!” you had vehemently insisted on the call. 

“Sounds a little like one to me,” Liz had added, earning an eye roll from you as you murmured something about the two of them always ganging up on you. 

So here you are, deciding that, maybe, you should just lean into it. 

While Sydney’s gone to the grocery to do the shopping (something she insisted on doing since you’re both making brunch for tomorrow morning) it’s just you and Nat in the house. You could’ve sworn Nat was on the phone earlier – Pete being the every-worrying, doting husband who hasn’t spent a night away from his wife since she got pregnant. 

“Hey, you!” you finally greet her, a broad smile spreading across your face as you turn to see your very pregnant almost-sister-in-law. “Uh… yeah she was going to the grocery store for some things. Need me to text her?”

Natalie shakes her head ‘no,’ before stepping into one of the many rooms that fill the airbnb that you have rented for the weekend. 

“Watcha got goin’ on over here?” Nat asks curiously, as she takes a few steps towards you. 

“Well,” you sigh, placing the neatly folded set of washable silk PJs down on one of the two twin beds that fill the bedroom that Maya and Liz will be sleeping in. “Just because you’re not technically my bridesmaids doesn’t mean that I can’t get you guys gifts, right?”

Sugar snorts, “Huh. That’s funny.”

“Hm?” you hum in response. 

“Soooo many things, especially since you won’t just admit this is your version of a bachelorette party but…” she teases you, pausing before she continues with: 

“I mostly came in here because I have a gift for you.

“What? You didn’t have to get me a gift,” you start, watching as Nat presents a gift bag stuffed to the brim with tissue paper. 

“I know. But just because you refuse to admit that this is a bachelorette party, doesn’t mean I can’t get you a bridal gift,” she answers, taking a seat on one of the beds as she repeats your own reasoning back to you. 

“Fair enough,” you chuckle sitting down on the bed as you accept her gift. 

Parting the mountain of tissue paper, you pull a neatly folded article of clothing wrapped in more tissue paper. Gently, you slide the fabric out of its sleeve, revealing a silk lace slip nightgown out of the gift bag. 

You gasp, examining the soft, delicate material in your hands. 

“Nat, this is-, holy shit. It’s stunning,” you marvel, running your fingers over the creme-colored material. 

“I saw it and couldn’t help myself,” she smiles proudly, happy to see that you love it. 

“It’s perfect,” you whisper, this time moving your fingers over the black lace trim at the hemline. 

“I wanted to give it to you before everyone got here,” she explains softly. “Wear it this weekend. Or for the honeymoon. I don’t know. I saw it and… it just felt like you.”

“Thank you,” you smile, your heart warming as you lean over to give her a hug. She squeezes you back, ecstatic that you love her gift. 

“Think Carmy’ll be jealous I didn’t get him anything?” she asks, jokingly, her eyes narrowing. 

“Oh, this is a gift for him too,” you’re quick to reply with a smirk. 

“Ew!” she glares at you, earning a laugh from you as you defend yourself. 

You shrug, “You set yourself up with that one, mama.”

You exchange a look, and a laugh, as Sugar playfully rolls her eyes at the thought of her brother doing anything more explicit than what could be in a PG-rated film. 

“How ya doin? How’s my soon-to-be-nephew?” you ask, shifting your body so that you’re facing here even more so now as you change the subject. 

“I’m alright,” she sighs, leaning back on her hands behind her. “Second trimester’s been a whole lot better than the first but… this whole pregnancy thing? Wow.”

“Yeah, we are in no hurry,” you empathize, adding a little humor to your sentiment. 

“Well, from what I hear, it hasn’t stopped either of you from-,” she begins to tease you and now it’s your turn to say:

“Oh my god, Natalie! Ew!” 

You roll your eyes this time, no stranger to the fact that you and Carmy’s sex life has started a rumor or two that’s gotten passed around the restaurant staff like wildfire.

She nudges you playfully, earning another laugh from you before the two of you settle into a comfortable silence, sitting side by side. 

Natalie takes a beat, carefully choosing what she wants to say to you, especially since heart to hearts weren’t exactly common for her growing up. 

“I also came in here to say…” she begins, her voice softening because she really means it. “I am so glad that he met you – Carmy – that you found each other. And I meant it when I said that I couldn’t wait for us to be sisters.”

The memory of the night you both got violently high together before Sugar got pregnant – the night she first called you her sister-in-law – brings the biggest smile to your face as you laugh. 

“You’ve changed his life,” she finishes, the deepest of gratitude coloring the words she says. 

You think someone should’ve warned you that getting married would bring up so many goddamn feelings, because you’ve been feeling pretty damn nostalgic and emotional lately too. 

With watery eyes, you grab Sugar’s hand, giving it a squeeze as you say, “Nat, he changed mine. He keeps… changing mine.” You pause for a moment wondering when, all of a sudden, you’ve gotten this sappy. “I love Carmen… so much. And… I’m so glad that in loving him… it brought us together too.”

She nods in agreement, as she whispers a tearful ‘yeah,’ giving your hand a squeeze in return before releasing it. 

“Jesus Christ. When did we become these people?” you chuckle, shaking your head. 

“I have no fucking clue but I’m blaming the pregnancy hormones,” Nat laughs with you. 

She pauses once more, and it’s as if she can’t help herself, diving into it again because there’s so much more she wants to say. 

“You know, I always wanted a sister…” Natalie starts with a disappointed nod of her head. “I always thought… like, maybe things would’ve been different or something. Mikey and Carmy could do no wrong, you know, but me?” 

She lets out another sigh, shifting her sitting position in pursuit of something more comfortable. 

“I don’t know… I always wondered what it would be like – to have an ally in it all, a partner in crime – because Mom was Mom… and-. Well, you know. But now with the baby coming, I just can’t picture putting a child through that.” 

She takes a beat this time, making sure she’s clear on what she’s trying to communicate to you. 

“I think what I’m trying to say is, selfishly, I’m so damn glad Carmy swallowed his pride and called you all those years ago.”

You’re grinning from ear to ear as you listen, agreeing with, “Me fucking too, buddy.”

The sound of the front door is an almost-welcomed interruption as you and Nat exchange a look, the both of you coming to the conclusion that it’s probably Sydney, back from the store. 

“Helloooooooo!” you both hear Sydney call out in the empty downstairs area of the airbnb. 

“We should probably go. See if Sydney needs our help?” Natalie suggests.

“Yeah,” you reply, standing up from where you’re seated on the bed. 

“Nat,” you say, offering a hand to help her up. 

She takes it, murmuring a thank you before groaning about her feet. You giggle, but this time, you have one last thing you want to say to her. 

“Thank you for the gift… and for what you just told me,” you say, before finishing your thought with, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she replies, a soft smile on her face. 

You share a look, and one more moment, before heading downstairs. 

“Look who I found!” Sydney squeals, her voice resonating broadly throughout the house. 

It’s then that you hear the sounds of luggage being rolled, as Maya goes on about how cute this place is, while Liz, following closely behind exclaims something about how goddamn hot it is outside. 

“Oh my god!” you exclaim, leaping over the last few stairs as you crowd both of your New York friends. 

It’s an exchange of squeals, how are you’s, how were your trips, and enthusiastic hugs exchanged between old friends. 

“Liz, Maya, you remember Natalie, right?” you introduce, as Nat gives both of your friends a small wave. 

While Liz and Maya have met Sydney multiple times (including a few trips to New York Sydney’s taken by herself), you know your two best friends have only met Sugar once or twice when visiting you in Chicago. 

“Yes, Carmy’s sister!” Liz says, her eyes lighting up with recognition. 

“Yes,” Nat nods, confirming the statement. 

“Well, come on in! I’ll show you up to your room so you can put your stuff down and whatnot,” you encourage, ushering the both of them upstairs as Natalie asks if Syd needs help unloading the car. 

“I can’t believe we’re finally here!” Maya exclaims, excitedly. 

“In Savannah… That you two idiots somehow figured it out and are getting married,” Liz continues, adding clarity around the very layered statement. 

You laugh, “Listen, you and I both, sister.”

You show both Liz and Maya to their shared room as the three of you catch up about the flight here, shared exclamations about how stoked you are for the weekend, about how much you were all in need of a good vacation anyways. As you watch your best friends set their things down and begin to settle in, it feels surreal. 

Like you and Carmy’s last trip to New York, it feels as if your worlds are once again colliding – two sets of friends from two very different chapters of your life as you approach a new one. 

Friday 

Your not-bachelorette brunch menu goes as follows: 

Syd’s famous potato chip omelet, a vanilla bean yogurt with Liz’s favorite homemade granola recipe, made last night before bed, bacon you’re frying up in a cast iron pan that belongs to the stocked rental kitchen, and one of Liz’s favorite mocktails because, yes,

“You’re making us go for a hike?!” Maya exclaims. “In this heat? In this humidity?!”

“I thought you were… on your whole SoulCycle kick,” you’re quick to reply. 

“Yeah, because it’s indoors,” she emphasizes with a sigh of defeat. 

“Thank god you didn’t get your hair done for this, babe,” Liz teases her friend, earning a ‘seconded’ from Maya. 

“Oh my god! I forgot that we both love SouCycle!” Sugar chimes in, simultaneously. 

“Add it to the list,” Maya replies, because she and Nat have gotten quite chummy over the last 12 hours. 

After ordering pizza last night, Maya and Nat had promptly curled up in a corner of the couch with a glass of wine for Maya, and an non-alcoholic cocktail for Nat, and spent almost two uninterrupted hours of realizing that they had way too much in common to not become instant-besties.

“So let me get this straight. It’s your bachelorette party and-,” Maya begins, straightening up on the barstool that lines the other side of the breakfast bar. 

“It’s not a bachelorette party, it’s just a girls’ weekend,” you and Syd say in unison, you more insistent while Syd simply recites the words as that you’ve droned on about again and again. 

“And we’re not going out?” Maya asks, unamused by your lack of enthusiasm.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” you shrug, careless for the idea of going out this weekend. 

“What about the strippers?!” Maya exclaims, a little louder this time, sending all of you into a fit of giggles. 

“What strippers?!” Syd exclaims. 

“Listen, I’m not against strippers…” you laugh with a shake of your head. “...but I just wanted this weekend to be about getting my favorite people together and looking for a dress. YOU are the one who called it a bachelorette party.”

“You’ll have to excuse Maya. It’s been a while since she’s had a weekend away from full-time mom duty,” Liz teases her, as the two of you share a knowing look. 

“Not to mention full-time work! And full-time wife-ing,” Maya adds insistently. “I’m ready to shake my ass!” 

You and Sugar both snort with laughter and Syd snickers again, plating her final omelet. 

“And while she’s somehow the first one of us to settle down, she’s also always been the biggest party animal of the both of us,” you continue, picking up where Liz left off. 

“See, this is what you have to look forward to,” Syd jokes, directing her comment to Nat. “The both of you.”

“Oh shut up,” she quips back, playfully. 

You shrug, before offering to help Syd distribute her stunningly plated omelets to the kitchen table that Liz has already set. 

“Tell us what you made today,” you joke, doing your best Padma Lakshmi impression, as if Sydney were a contestant on Top Chef. 

Sydney laughs, while the rest of the girls take their seats, standing at the head of the table as she takes your invitation to roleplay a little too seriously:

“So this… is a potato chip omelet with boursin cheese inspired by our very own Natalie Berzatto.”

“You’re amazing,” Natalie coos, because she truly cannot get enough of this omelet. 

“This looks incredible,” Maya compliments, admiring the neatly shaped French omelet. 

“And the potato chips are fucking genius,” Liz marvels, simultaneously.

“Something I started making at the restaurant just for Nat since, you know, it kinda hits all the cravings. It’s salty. It’s filling. You know you got a little texture going on with the chips. Aaaaand I’m starving so let’s end this Top Chef cosplay right now and eat,” Syd says, earning a laugh and statements of agreement from the rest of you as she rushes to the last empty chair. 

You spend the morning enjoying breakfast before ushering everyone out to the car for your hike. Insistent on heading out there before it gets too hot, you decide it’s probably best to go before noon. As you head out to the Skidaway Island State Park trail, the fact that you friends are finally all together in one room begins to hit you. While Nat and Maya have hit it off over their love for SoulCycle, how strange pregnancy cravings are, and their mutual adoration for Maggie Rogers, you smile to yourself while you listen to Sydney and Liz dissect the most recent season of Love Island. 

And despite the few yet passionate protestations, the hiking trail really isn’t all that bad. The five of you spend about an hour out there, hanging out a little longer along the boardwalk, before heading back into town for lunch, and then home for showers and some downtime. Tonight’s game plan is to get all dressed up (sort of) then head to Mashama Bailey’s restaurant, The Grey. 

You take some time (and a nap) to yourself this afternoon, knowing that everyone else has taken some time to read, catch up a little, or just hang out. As you awaken from your nap, you flip through your phone for a bit, and, you think to yourself, it feels really damn good to slow down. 

You decide to call Carmy, Facetime-ing him as you remain snuggled up in the airbnb bed. It takes a few rings before Carmy answers, his hair wild, dressed in his chef whites. 

“Hey, babe,” Carmy smiles, as soon as your face appears on his phone screen. “It’s good to hear from you.”

“You too. I’m glad you picked up,” you reply, a lightness in your voice that only comes with vacation-you. 

“How’s my girl doing?” he asks you, adoration in his eyes. 

You hum happily in response, stretching a little in your bed. 

“She’s great. But she misses you,” you answer, soaking in how much you love when he calls you his girl. “The trip’s been great so far, baby. We went for a hike this morning and uh, well, everyone’s really hit it off. Pretty sure Nat and Maya have become best friends now.”

“Uh oh.”

“Oh come on,” you chuckle, snuggling deeper into the duvet. “You know Maya’s always been your biggest fan.”

“Yeah,” he nods softly, because he does know that, for whatever reason, she’s always been his biggest advocate. 

“But how are you? How’s Aioli? What am I missing?” you ask your future husband. 

“We’re good. And Aioli is still the most spoiled cat in the Greater Chicago area. Not much to report here. Just taking a smoke break before dinner service,” he answers with a shrug. 

“What’re you up to?”

“Just waking up from a nap,” you reply with a yawn, your disheveled bedhead more of a turnon then Carmy will admit. “And we’re going to The Grey later.”

“Mashama’s place?”

“Yeah.”

“You gonna get all dressed up?” he asks, his interest piquing. 

“Yeah, I think we are,” you reply, the conversation taking a slightly flirtier turn as you add, “Don’t worry. I’ll send pictures.” 

With a shy look on his face, Carmy returns with a:

“Oh shit. Well, let me know how it is. The restaurant.”

“I’ll report back,” you assure him. “You know… maybe we can come back here together. Another time.”

Carmy hums in response, barely able to wrap his head around the idea of a vacation. It’s not like you’d never been on one together, but no matter how many steps he takes back, how much he’s learned he’s allowed to (sometimes) slowdown, the unshakeable fear of falling behind hangs over his head. He’s learning, getting better at it, and you’ve helped, but it somehow always still feels a little unsettling at first. 

You can see that Carmy’s mind is running a mile a minute, so you decide to cut to the chase as you say: 

“I just… wanted to call and see what was up. Tell you I was thinking about you, babe.”

He smiles softly. 

“Yeah,” he exhales. “I’m thinking about you too.”

He waits a beat before following up with:

“I’m always thinking about you.”

“I love you, Bear,” you whisper, a smile on your lips. 

“I love you too,” he says back, and you swear Apple has installed a filter on FaceTime with how vibrant and blue his eyes are as he looks at you. 

The knock at your bedroom door grabs your attention, your eyes shifting immediately to where the door hangs slightly open.

“Hey, I heard you were up,” Sydney says, poking her head in. “Can I come in?”

“Oh my god! Yeah, of course. I’m just on the phone with Carmy. Wanna come say hi?” you encourage, waving her your way. 

“Sure!” she grins, quick to hop onto the bed, settling down right next to where you lay. 

“Great. It’s like you never left Chicago,” Carmy groans dryly, as Sydney snuggles in. 

“Whatever. You miss us,” Sydney shoots back with a playful eye roll.

Carmy’s become no stranger to getting kicked out of his own bed when Sydney comes over – you and her taking it over to watch a movie or giggle while watching TikTok videos for hours on end. Most days he’s so glad that you found a friend in each other, while other days, he’d very much like his bed back. 

“Well, babe. I won’t keep you. I’ll see you Sunday?” Carmy asks, more than happy to let you spend time with your friends. 

“See ya Sunday, honey,” you reply before ending the call. 

You toss your phone on your bed with a sigh as Sydney fake vomits at your sickeningly sweet goodbye. 

“Did you nap?” she asks you. 

“Dude I passed the fuck out,” you reply, enthusiastically. 

“I don’t know how you do it. Like, I think I’ve seen you sleep in…” she starts, trying to pull together a rough guesstimate in her head of how many times she’s seen you nap in a public place. “... more places than I can count.”

“OH! I have not forgotten about your little… photo album,” you remind her, in reference to the photo collection of you sleeping that she has of you. “I’m begging you to release this photo album AT our wedding brunch.” 

And you’re only half-joking about it. 

“Did you get a nap in?”

“Nah.” 

You take another breath as you and Sydney lay next to each other, settling into a comfortable quiet as you reflect on the moment you had with Sugar yesterday, suddenly consumed with an immense amount of gratitude for her and Sydney’s presence in your life. 

“Shit…” you exhale. 

“What’s up?” Sydney asks you, turning her head to look over at you this time. 

“Somebody should’ve warned me that getting married would like… bring up all these extra feelings about… literally everything,” you admit, your eyes fixed to the patterns on the popcorn ceiling above you. 

“Oh god,” she groans. “Don’t tell me you’re pregnant.”

“God no!” you snort, reassuring her that you just finished your period. 

You and Sydney exchange another laugh, and a look of mutual affection, before returning your gazes back to the ceiling. 

“You wanna… talk about it?” Sydney asks, carefully. 

It’s not that you and Sydney don’t do the heavy stuff together, but she’s become one of your best friend because she makes you laugh harder than anyone ever has, so it always feels different – foreign in a way – when you have these moments together. 

Your friendship with Syd is lighter. It’s laugh until your abs hurt kind of lighter. 

But you know she’s here for all the rest of it too. 

“Uh… sure,” you answer, as you share what’s on your mind. “I’ve just been so nostalgic lately. Just thinking about… you know… me and Carmy’s relationship. The life I’ve built with him. You guys….”

“Ew,” she jokes, her face twisting into an expression of repulsion. 

“I know,” you groan, unable to stifle the life that escapes your lips. 

“Not to get all, you know, emotional or anything,” Sydney starts, shrugging it off like it’s no big deal. 

“But like… I wanted to work with Carmy, you know? Which is why I came to The Beef. And… It was a lot.” She pauses, thinking about what she wants to say next as you nod along because you know it was a lot. “I wanted to learn from him and… I wanted to be somewhere that I could make an impact – where I could make something good.”

And in the spirit of being sappy and nostalgic Syd continues. 

“And… I never thought, like, in a million years… that on top of building a restaurant… I’d meet you. You’re like… one of my best friends.” 

“Woahhhh,” you tease her, pretending to be surprised. 

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I know.”

You both take a beat, knowing that you’re both using humor to deflect from the moment of vulnerability that you’re sharing. 

“Syd?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re one of my best friends too.”

Saturday

“This isn’t me. I mean… none of this… is me,” you say to yourself, examining your reflection in the mirror. “I mean. We’re getting married at the courthouse, you know?!” 

Maya had booked you an appointment at one of those high end bridal boutiques where they make a custom sign for you and serve champagne, and while it was more than a lovely gesture, even the least-fancy dresses here still don’t feel right.

“I figured as much but thought we’d give it a shot,” Maya sighs, disappointedly, as Syd and Nat exchange glances. 

“If it helps, your tits look great,” Liz suggests, earning a laugh from you because, she’s not wrong and it may be the highlight of this dress stop. 

A mischievous smile spreads across your lips as you say: 

“C’mon. I have an idea!”

It’s those five words that lead you to the most ridiculous bridal consignment shop with the floofiest gowns you’ve seen all day. Deciding that you should have a little more fun with today, you use the fact that you’re the bride and it’s your weekend to convince your friends that they have to try the most extravagant and silly dresses on with you.

“Oh my god! Well we’re going to make beautiful brides,” Maya gasps facetiously, as she steps out of the fitting room in what can only be looked at as a ball gown. 

“I’m pretty sure this thing has a built-in petticoat,” Liz adds, spinning around in the dress she’s tried on, something that looks like it should be what one milks cows in. 

“I’m SO sending this to Patrick,” you laugh, snapping photo after photo on your phone while Nat cackles along with you. “I think you guys are going to have to get married again just so you can wear this dress.”

Before you know it, Sydney is pushing you into a dressing room with another dress to try on, promising you that she’ll try something on this time too. It takes way too long to put on the ball of taffeta, and Sugar has to come in to help figure out what goes where, before you emerge once again, like a cotton ball of a bride. 

“Well, I think this is the one,” you joke, staring at your reflection in the mirror. 

“And we can’t forget thiiiiiis,” Maya says in a sing-song voice, adding a hand beaded veil to your head this time. 

“Wait, this is actually really pretty,” Nat says, in reference to the veil. 

You agree with her, as Maya slips away to grab a few more dresses from out front, before turning your attention to the still-closed dressing room that Syd is hiding in. 

“Sydney Adamu. Get your ass out here!” you holler, just as she makes her dramatic entrance, pulling back the curtain to the fitting room. 

“Oh my god!” you gasp, the minute you see her in the beaded, fitted white dress. Aside from the mermaid tail-like hem, the fitted bodice fits her like a glove. “Ummm… this is hot!” 

“Excuse me?!” Nat squeals as Liz simultaneously adds, “Okay, miss thing! Give us a walk! Give us a spin.” 

“You guys are out of control,” Sydney says, gesturing towards the three of you, even though she knows you’re right. 

She looks phenomenal. 

“Okay, okay. Go try these on. I think I finally found some good ones,” Maya encourages. And before you can even protest, she’s handing you a few hangers worth of white dresses and shoving you into a dressing room while Syd continues to strut around the fitting room area. 

You smile to yourself, listening to your friends giggle and squeal over the silly dresses, while you hang up the few that Maya’s picked out for you. One in particular catches your eye: a slip-like silhouette with a high halter-like neckline that cuts low in the back. You run your fingers over the smooth material and decide to try this one on first. 

The dress fits a little big, and the hemline is a little long, but it’s nothing you can’t take to a tailor. You pinch the fabric, picturing what it would look like fitting a little closer to your body as you shout:

“Guys!!” 

“What? Did we do the impossible? You find something you actually like?” Sydney teases you, as you pull the curtain back. 

“Um… well it needs to be taken in some. And hemmed. But… yeah,” you reply, the reactions immediate on your friend’s faces as soon as they see you. 

Maya gasps, while Liz’s jaw drops. Tears well in Nat’s eyes while Syd rubs a few soothing circles on Nat’s upper back. 

“Holy shit,” Liz says. 

“We did the impossible,” Maya adds, awestruck. “We actually found something that you, the anti-bride, actually like.”

“Oh sweetheart, you look so, so beautiful,” Nat whispers, so overwhelmed with emotion as she thinks of you and Carmy. And because this is so not any of you, Sugar can’t help herself, instantly deflecting with a dry, “God, I can’t believe you haven’t left his ass,” as the five of you burst into another fit of giggles. 

As the laughter subsides, and the reality that you’re going to marry the love of your life sets in, you stare back at yourself in the mirror once more, the words falling out of your mouth. 

“Yeah. I… think this is it.”

--------------------------------------------

Crowded around the dinner table, the five of you work through what seems like a never-ending amount of Chinese takeout, as you wonder to yourself who let Liz over-order when you’re all leaving tomorrow morning. You sit next to Sydney, one of her knees tucked into her chest as she listens to all the drama from Liz’s last kitchen job. 

“Shit,” Sydney commiserates. “When do you just say ‘fuck it’ and start your own spot?”

“Uh… when I marry rich and don’t have to worry about the business of it all?” Liz replies, earning an ‘amen’ from Nat and a laugh from you. 

“I always knew,” Maya says, a sure smile on her face as she changes the subject. 

“What?” you ask her, quizzically. 

“I always knew that you and Carmy would end up together,” she replies with a certain amount of aplomb that baffles you. 

It’s a simultaneous “How could you know?” from Liz and “How could you know that?” from Sydney, and an “I didn’t even know!” from you, as Nat exclaims a skeptical, “My brother?!”

“I knew! Because…” she declares insistently. 

“I saw the way that Carmen looked at you. How he always looked at you. Even when you thought you were just friends. Even when you guys banged and thought you fucked it all up. And especially when he finally got over himself and invited you to Chicago.”

It’s a strange feeling, that one of your best friends in the whole wide world could see something that you, for a long time, could barely understand yourself, and it reminds you of the magnitude of you and Carmy’s love story. 

“That was really beautiful,” Sydney admits, so casually that you have to laugh. 

“You always were his biggest champion,” you say, earning a confident nod from Maya. 

“Hey, remember when he was so nervous to even talk to you that he spilled your drink all over you?” Liz brings up, almost jokingly as you all burst out into laughter. 

“You were soooooo mad.”

“So mad!” you agree passionately. 

“Poor guy didn’t know what he was doing,” Liz chuckles. 

“What an asshole,” Nat adds, as she and Sydney exchange a knowing look. 

“Well. I will cheers to that,” you announce, even though you know, for all the shit you give him, he is and always will be the love of your life. 

“To our last night here in Savannah. And you, our best friend, in all of her anti-bride glory who got us all here this weekend. And to Carmy, for loving our girl. Our king and queen of (not-so-much-anymore) denial,” Maya toasts, holding up her glass. 

You cheers with your friends, exchanging laughs and quips as your glasses clink. You look around the table, and it’s not just the wine you’re drinking that brings a warmth to your cheeks. There’s Liz and Maya, the friends that loved you through your life before Carmy, through hating him, and eventually, through falling in love with him. And then there’s Nat and Syd, the two women who, had you and Carmy not taken a chance on each other, you never would’ve met. Never would’ve gotten to know. Never would’ve gotten to love. 

You’re starting to understand this whole bachelorette party thing. You may not have bridesmaids, or all of the bells and whistles that come with having a big ceremony, but the love that you have in your life is bigger than just romantic love. 

It’s in this room right now, a living, breathing thing that fills the air and warms you from the inside out. 

It’s palpable, it’s real, and most importantly, it’s yours.

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

when it all comes Crashing Down

tags: 18+, afab!reader, childhood friends to friends(?) with benefits, codependent relationship

summary: it fascinates you how someone so manipulative and cruel can be so sensitive and needy

a/n: writing pro-tip, always write down random sentences whenever they come to you because you never know when it’ll be the source of inspiration for a story. in this case, an introspective think piece on makima’s loneliness that is also smut where neither of you are the good guy. also available on AO3.

If windows are eyes to the soul, you wonder what that means for someone like Makima. 

Or rather, you wonder what people see when they look at them. You’ve known her for the better part of your life and at 25, you still aren’t sure what others see. That is at the forefront of your mind as gold eyes with red rings look back at you, a calculating smile accompanying them.

“Are you listening to me?” Makima tilts her head as she rests her chin on her palm.

You nod vaguely at your childhood friend, turning your gaze to your phone screen. “I heard you say a week ago that you have a partner assignment due this week and yet somehow you’re here at my place instead of doing that.” You have your apartment to yourself for once, your roommate gone for the weekend to stay the night at one of her girlfriends’ apartments. “Shouldn’t you be out doing your homework?”

“I can’t visit my best friend from time to time?” Makima implores as if she is surprised by your own inquiry

“That isn’t what I asked,” yet you already know the answer. You aren’t completely well-acquainted with Aki Hayakawa. He’s a friend of a friend and you see him from time to time when said friends throw parties or have other get-togethers. Those were enough encounters for you to know the man is absolutely smitten with the redhead in front of you, spooning a piece of the tiramisu she brought over. He’d do anything Makima asked of him with more enthusiasm you could ever produce.

Unsurprisingly, Makima confirms what you already suspect. “Hayakawa told me he could do the rest of it,” she replies lightly with a smile. And there we go. You wonder what the poor sap sees in her when you know Makima doesn’t see him as more than an amusing puppy chasing after her braid. “I wanted to visit because I thought you might be lonely. Here,” she raises her spoon towards your lips. “I made this for you.”

“Nah I’m good,” Makima’s baking isn’t necessarily the problem. It’s the measurements, her measurements just aren’t for you.

“You said you wanted to try tiramisu recently,” Makima counters, her hand not moving an inch.

“First, I mentioned that in passing,” you raise a finger and quickly follow it with another. “Second, I also said I was going to try it out with Quanxi next Saturday.” One of her girlfriend’s, Long, is having a birthday celebration at an Italian restaurant. “They say patience is a virtue, I can wait.”

“I think it’s a voluntary virtue when it comes to food,” Makima lowers her hand for a moment. “Are you just trying to say you don’t want to eat my baking?”

You snort, “that’s exactly what I’m saying, yes. I trust your cooking, not your baking. You have never gotten the right amount of sugar that I can stomach.” You’ve never been able to eat things too sweet. Even as a child you would scrape off most of the frosting on cupcakes, sliding it onto Makima’s plate who welcomed the additional sweetness.

“That’s a bit mean” that is hilarious coming from the undisputed Queen of Mean. You distinctly remember the time in middle school where Makima laughed at a scene of a protagonist crying over the death of a friend. That in itself was ironic coming from the same girl who, at the beginning of that same semester, clutched your shirt and sobbed like it was the end of the world when you found out you shared zero classes and had separate lunch periods. “I worked hard to make this for you. You should spoil a person more when you’ve known them since you were 6.”

You distinctly know the spoiling she is referring to is about herself. “I always spoil you,” I’ve been doing it since we were kids. It crosses your mind, not for the first time, that if it weren’t for your parents, you are sure you and Makima would never have become friends.

Your mom was her mom’s friend in university and by some chance, they ended up enrolling you both at the same school and found out when you were both picked up later after classes. There began your days of playing whatever game Makima desired and your possessions somehow becoming her possessions. Whenever you voiced your grievances to your mom, however, she always told you to be kind and understanding in a tone that let you know that you recognized even now. A tone that says “this has something to do with something we adults discussed”.

It didn’t take too long for you at that age to notice the traces of what your mother was likely referring to.

You never saw much of Makima’s parents when you were younger; you don't see much of them now.

School events, holidays and a few random things in between. It wasn’t Makima’s family that shared them with her but yours. That realization made you think back to the times you would complain about mandatory family time and your mother would rebuttal, “not everyone is lucky to have parents that love them so much, [First], you should be grateful.”  

Indulging Makima became habit after that as long as it was in reason.

You’re sure there is a part of her that resents you choosing to room with a classmate rather than her though. 

“Just try it,” Makima raises her spoon again and, with a sigh, you relent. 

Almost immediately, you balk at the taste, nose scrunching in displeasure. “Like I said,” you grab Makima’s cup of black tea and down a large mouthful. “You always make things too sweet. This is why I’m gonna eat it at a restaurant with an actual baker.” 

You lay your head on the foot of the couch, rejecting the too-sweet tiramisu in its entirety. “I’ll just make Quanxi pay for it when I order it. She owes me for what happened last weekend.” You aren’t one to knock someone getting laid but your roommate fucking her girlfriends loudly all night the night before you had a exam was evil. All she did when you banged on the door to keep it down was toss her noise-canceling headphones before closing it again. At least when I fuck in the house I have the decency to keep shit down, you grumble internally pushing away the fact Quanxi technically also offered to let you join in the fun.

You probably would have joined if you weren’t sleep-deprived and irritated.

C’est la vie.

“[First].”

“Hmm,” you hum in response without opening your eyes. Your eyes find themselves opening a moment later when you feel the distinct feeling of another body over your own, Makima placing her legs on either side of your hips as she sits on your lap. 

Red frames gold as she looks down on you and you stare back wordlessly before her lips press against yours.

It fascinates you how someone so manipulative and cruel can be so sensitive and needy.

Cruelty comes easy to Makima, no different than a child experiencing troubles at home taking out their frustrations on a random kid at school.

She’s angelic in appearance, devilish in nature.

She wants to be treated gently when she is incapable of treating people gently herself.

By your second to last year of high school, you wondered what your relationship meant about you. 

Knowing her ways yet staying her friend regardless which only birthed the question as to why you remained her friend. It donned on you not too long after that the reason was pity when you held a distraught Makima in your arms in your room when a former mutual friend stated his intentions not to associate with her any longer. You remember finding it strange that she was so upset when you didn’t think Makima even considered Madoka to be a friend in the first place.

She said as much when you asked her before the event transpired.

“He’s more like an acquaintance, they all are,” Makima had told you. “But not you [First], you’re my real friend.”

The only one she has.

It dawned on you then if Madoka wanting nothing to do with her could make her cry, you doing the same would make Makima undoubtedly break. It’s ironic how the loneliest people can be the most sadistic.

So she can be cruel; as long as that cruelty never turns to you, you will continue to be there even when you are sure you both know that your friendship has long since passed the expiry date. You’ll be there when she needs to cry, you’ll accompany her on walks for her dogs and you’ll lay her down in your bed when she wants to feel the skin of another on her own like you are now.

Makima’s arms tighten around your shoulders, hips bucking as the butt of your palm rubs against her clit as you thrust your fingers inside her. She’s absolutely soaked and you can’t help relishing that fact as Makima moans your name like it’s the only word she knows.

Maybe this was inevitable, the two of you like this, you think vaguely as you leave a trail of wet kisses from her breasts to her belly before settling between her legs. You lap at her core slowly, bringing one of your hands to clasp her own and Makima intertwines her fingers between yours tightly.

You press one finger in her pussy, sucking on her clit.

You add a second when you kiss her folds.

You continue thrusting your fingers once you add a third and Makima moves her hips to press into your ministrations. It takes a few moments to find a rhythm, alternating between licking and maintaining the movement of your finger. It doesn’t take much longer for Makima’s thighs to tighten around your head, coming with a soft cry.

You pull out your fingers, vaguely acknowledging the ache in your wrist and glance in her direction. From your position you can see her chest heave up and down, hand tightly gripping yours as she reels from the aftershocks. If she held it any tighter, you’re sure it would break.

With two light taps on her hip, Makima loosens her grip on your head tiredly and you kiss her inner thighs before finally moving to lay on your pillow beside her. It takes a moment to pull your hand away from hers, Makima’s grip iron tight. “Hey, I need that hand to hug you, weirdo,” is all it takes for her hand to loosen its hold and gently you take back your hand.

There is no fighting against your tugging as you pull Makima into your chest like you’ve done many times before holding firmly but gently, just as she likes. You don’t comment on the soft sniffle you hear, it’s an unspoken rule for you both not to point out when she cries during sex. Almost instinctively, Makima presses herself even closer as she wraps her arms around your waist. Sometimes you wonder if she is trying to live in your skin.

“[First],” Makima murmurs almost too softly for you to hear when she’s wound down.

You fiddle with a lock of her hair, “What is it?”

“Stay the night with me tomorrow,” her nails dig into your back and you note she sounds almost uncertain in her command. Desperate.

You close your eyes, tired. “We can go in the morning.”

[ukulelevillainwrites]

who follows the rules anyway?

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9

complete

pairing : anthony lockwood x she/her reader

summary : y/n gets fired from Fittes and seeks refuge with George, only to find out he works with the worst guy she's ever met

word count : 3.5k

notes : this is my first fanfic ever, the set up is a little slow but bear with me, the series will be a compilation of all my favorite tropes and in general everything i love to read in l&c fanfics, it's heavily inspired by everything i've read so far so thanks to all the amazing writers out there &lt;3, a lot more happens in the second part that i will upload right next to this one

She wasn’t entirely surprised when she heard that George Karim had gotten fired from Fittes. He did a great job on the few occasions she got to work with him, but he always seemed to take his research too far. She remembered warning him several times.

“Supervisors aren’t as open-minded as I am, you’re gonna get in trouble if you keep bringing up your theories about the Problem to every person you interact with!”

“But don’t you find it weird how research has come so far and yet the Problem keeps growing? The official story tells us that an unidentified event caused it but what if it’s still going on? Wouldn’t you want to know what that was so we could finally put an end to this?”

When he put it that way, y/n couldn’t help but agree with him.

“Sure, I guess but it doesn’t justify going up to the fourth floor when it’s clearly closed to agents still in training!”

“Keep your head in the sand if you want but I’ll get to the bottom of this, I know I’m getting closer already.” George said with a proud smile on his face.

She’d laughed. He was stubborn but she found it endearing.

He had bragged about his latest discoveries after a case the both of them had been working on. It wasn’t the first time. They got along well and took the habit of grabbing an early morning snack on their way back from work. He would mostly tell her about his most recent theory, either about the Problem or his latest obsession, which could take a few hours. But y/n didn’t mind, she thought he was good company and it helped her relax after a case. Though aside from those few moments they didn’t spend that much time together. Especially since y/n became part of Quill Kipps’ crew.

A month ago, she had gotten the good news coming back to work after a weekend visiting her parents in her hometown south of London. She was ecstatic, her roommate El too. Especially El actually. Because they had such a huge crush on him. y/n didn’t quite understand it, but she did admire his career. He had a remarkable reputation among other Fittes agents and being part of his team would certainly boost her career as well. She had her heart set on moving up to management and someday become a prominent figure of the Fittes organization. But to reach this goal she’d need to be as remarkable as Kipps, better even. She wanted him to notice her, to see how great her Touch was but most importantly how organized and responsible she could be under pressure. She needed him to think she could be a great leader and sought his attention on every occasion. Because of that she and George drifted apart, going from work friends to acquaintances that simply exchanged passing hellos at the archives or the Fittes headquarters. Before she even thought of reaching out to him, he was gone.

“Did you hear?” El had asked her as she walked into their shared room.

“Heard what?”

“That annoying guy finally got fired!”

“What George? He wasn’t annoying he was sweet!”

“You have weird tastes in friends.”

“Yes, I do.” She told them with a wink.

“But do you know what happened? Most supervisors were pissed and wanted to involve the cops!”

“What? Why?”

“Because he tried to break into an office! They caught him trying to pick the lock! How crazy is that?” El seemed to relish the drama of the situation as their face lit up with a smile that seemed inappropriate under the circumstances.

“That is crazy but as much as I love to gossip, I really need to get some sleep.”

y/n got ready for bed and set her alarm for the following day. She had to do some research at the archives with her teammate. They would join Kipps later at the client’s house. It shouldn’t be too difficult since it seemed to be a Type One but she really needed to impress him. She had to be the perfect agent: quick, focused and perfectly prepared. Even though she was always very professional she still needed some rest.

y/n was a heavy sleeper and had very vivid dreams. Ever since she was a child, she had some of her nights disturbed by complex dreams that felt so real she would wake up exhausted the next morning as if she hadn’t slept at all. It hadn’t happened in quite some time, but that night y/n wouldn’t get much rest. She found herself in the middle of the woods, barefoot, standing in a clearing. The ground was covered with an emerald green moss that felt soft beneath her feet. She looked around but couldn’t see much beside the shadows of the surrounding trees. A thick fog made it hard to see where she was. Disoriented and lost, she started walking towards the nearest tree but, a few steps in, her right foot sank in ice cold water. She realized she was in the middle of a pond, stuck and unable to reach the shore. A frog jumped into the water behind her and made her turn around. A girl was standing in front of her. Her auburn hair was slightly curled, and her bangs delicately framed her brown eyes. She was slightly smaller than she was, about the same age, her face showed no emotion at all.

“Find me.” She said in a neutral tone.

y/n furrowed her brow, not understanding what she meant. As she opened her mouth to ask her to explain the girl repeated

“Find me.”

Without moving she somehow floated above the pond and retreated into the woods. She mouthed the same words one last time before the fog engulfed her. y/n woke up with a jolt, disoriented and terribly thirsty. What was that about? she thought. She didn’t have time to ponder since she hadn’t heard her alarm and was already late to meet up with her colleague.

“I’m so sorry I’m late Bobby I hope I didn’t make you wait for too long…”

“It’s fine but hurry up. Kipps insisted on gathering as much information as possible.”

“Really? But everything indicates a Type One right?”

“The problem isn’t with the dead but with the living. Didn’t you pay attention to who our client is?”

“Mrs Overton? What about her?” Bobby had an exasperated look on his face and sighed heavily. So much for being the perfect agent today.

“Her husband owns Overton Watches and basically runs a luxury empire and she is on the board of the Sunrise Corporation. She and her husband are close friends with Penelope Fittes and we cannot screw up this case otherwise our team will probably end up at the bottom of her list next time she needs trustworthy agents.”

Oh, I’m not rested enough to deal with that.

“Okay then, let’s get to work.”

They spent the whole day at the agency’s archives. The Fittes database did help a lot to find more information about the Overtons’ house but overall, it was a pretty boring case. The house was old, dated back the 1800s, it belonged to Mrs Overton’s ancestors, one of them died because, well, they had to at some point, and felt like coming back. This great grandmother didn’t live any kind of extraordinary life and decided to haunt the place in the same unremarkable way. Y/n had trouble staying focused. The case was not fascinating, far from it. Her mind drifted and came back to her dream. In hindsight it wasn’t that disturbing. It was just her brain making stuff up. But she couldn’t shake the feeling she had felt when the girl had spoken to her. There was something magnetic about her voice and it had an intensity that didn’t match the lack of expression on her face. It bothered her. Why couldn’t she stop seeing her face?

Bobby got up to put back some newspapers and the sudden movement next to her brought her back to reality. Right, the Overton case. Everything indicated a Lurker, so y/n wasn’t too worried about tonight. She could still make up for today’s start. Plus, her talent would probably be the most useful. This unseemly case might serve her after all.

As she walked back to their table after putting a book back on its shelf, she accidently bumped into someone.

“Oh I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay don’t worry.”

“George? Hi! What are you doing here?”

“I came by to pick up the rest of my stuff…”

“Oh right… I’m so sorry about all this.”

“Don’t be I kinda deserved it anyway. Though I still think I was right.”

“About what?”

“Mrs. Dufour stealing sources. It’s pretty obvious she can’t afford to live the way she does on a supervisor’s salary, and she always looks like she’s plotting something. She reminds me of relic men. I never liked her.”

“Well to be fair you don’t like a lot of people… it looks like I missed your last hyperfixation… but it seems like a stretch and accusing her of something like that… Was it really worth getting into that much trouble?”

“I’m not chipper about it, but I’ll be fine. I already found something else, a friend I can still work with, maybe you know him. We live in-”

But y/n wasn’t listening. Bobby was calling her, telling her that they had to get moving to get to their client’s house before sundown.

“I really have to go George I’m sorry. But I’ll miss our walks filled with your crazy theories.” She said with a smile.

“If you want to come by for tea, we’d be happy to have you. 35 Portland Row, don’t forget!”

“Sure, I won’t! Good luck!”

“Thanks, you too.”

She hurried to catch up with her colleague. She really was going to miss him even though they weren’t that close she had grown used to seeing him around. But she couldn’t believe his theory about Mrs. Dufour. It sounded like he wanted to see evil everywhere and was looking for something to distract himself with. A made-up scenario that justified why he disliked her at the same time. Nothing more.

----

“Good evening, Madam, we are a leading team from Fittes. We were assigned to make your house safe again by Miss Fittes herself.”

Kipps always had a very humble way of introducing them to their clients. As proud as y/n was of being on his team, she didn’t feel entirely at ease with his elevated figures of speech.

“Yes, I was expecting you. Penelope told me she put one of her best teams on my case. I was very flattered.”

“Well, we do not want to appear overly confident, but we will be most efficient to take care of your problem. May we come in?” she asked.

“Of course, please. I suppose your supervisor will be here too?”

“Yes, Mrs. Dufour will be here shortly.” Kipps answered.

y/n abruptly turned around to look at him.

“Mrs. Dufour? What happened to Mr. Fowler?”

“He got called by DEPRAC to deal with some details on the last case we did. You know, the one where it only took you two minutes to find the source after Bobby and I spent a half hour looking for it. It was really impressive I was glad you were here.” He told her with a wink.

She felt herself blush. She wasn’t used to being praised and certainly not by a prominent agent like Quill Kipps, even after a month of working together she still felt flustered. Maybe that last case made up for the horrible impression she gave him on her first week. And she was going to keep proving him how great she was.

The praise was so unexpected it made her forget who their supervisor was for a moment. What were the odds that on the same day George told her about his suspicions she had to work with this potential traitor? She could not let George’s wild theories cloud her judgement. She was here to do a job, a relatively easy one given their research, and she was going to make a wonderful impression on both Kipps and this high-profile client. She took the lead and went inside.

As they stepped into the house, they were greeted by a white marble entrance furnished with glass cases displaying various clocks and watches, certainly a history of the famous Overton watches and mechanisms. The sun was already setting, it hit a crystal chandelier which reflected golden light over the walls. The pieces shone behind their glass. Their client guided them through the hall into the kitchen were teacups and biscuits had been served. Mrs. Overton took a seat and the three agents followed. She seemed at ease with the situation even though the young adults she had in front of her were here to rid her of a ghost. She sat at the head of the table, perfectly in control as if this meeting was a business reunion like any other. She was in her late fifties; her hair was silver and styled in an elaborate hairstyle. She looked both serious and relaxed at the same time. She was aware of the risks but wasn’t worried about the situation, like she had total faith in the team in front of her.

“While we wait for Mrs. Dufour maybe you could tell us more about what has been troubling you?” asked Kipps.

“I believe the haunting began about three weeks ago. My husband started feeling uneasy when he got home, and I felt the same fear shortly after. We never saw or heard anything we just feel watched.”

“I’m sorry to hear that Madam.” y/n tried to comfort her.

“The research we did on your house indicates that it’s been built in the 1800’s and never left your family is that correct?” Bobby interrupted.

“Yes, I inherited it about 2 years ago, but we only moved in this year.”

“We believe the haunting might be caused by one of your ancestors, a certain Emily Abbott, could you tell us anything about her?”

“I’m afraid I’ve never heard of her before…”

“So, you wouldn’t have any idea what her source might be?”

“You might have a late night ahead of you. When we moved in, we kept most of the furniture that were already in the house. For all I know any of these pieces could be the source.”

That wasn’t good news. Hopefully with her Touch y/n could save them some time. They could start at the bottom of the house and work their way up, going from room to room as she touches different objects hoping for some result. As she organized the night in her head the front door opened.

Mrs. Dufour immediately filled the room with her presence. Mostly because she spoke at length and didn’t let the team finish asking their questions. She thanked Mrs. Overton for waiting for her, ushered her out of the house and gave them her directions for the night. Not even Kipps could object. She wanted him to stay nearby while Bobby and y/n were to explore the house to see if they could pick up anything. She felt for Kipps, this seemed like a monumental waste of time for him. But they couldn’t do much about it, agents were supposed to follow their supervisor’s instructions, they were in charge after all.

They searched the house until midnight, making rounds, going up and down the floors, looking for potential sources or trying to pick up any kind of psychical activity but came back downstairs empty handed. How was she supposed to impress anyone with a case like this? y/n and Bobby went back to the kitchen to report the lack of activity to Mrs. Dufour. 

“We’ve searched the entire house three times but unfortunately none of the objects we picked up gave any sign of psychical activity, the visitor hasn’t shown up yet and Mrs. Overton couldn’t give us more information. I’m not really sure what more we could do for now.” Bobby looked defeated. Or bored. Probably the latter, it was an exceptionally boring case. y/n was growing tired at the lack of action. It made her mad that someone could hire one of the best teams in London to take care of such a benign problem just because they had money and connections while hundreds of homes were threatened by harmful Type Twos and couldn’t do anything about it.

“Do I really have to tell you two how to do your jobs? Keep looking and take this seriously. I hope you realize who our client is, I can’t allow any mistake tonight.” Her authoritarian tone made y/n see why George disliked her. Clearly, they must have gotten into a few arguments on several occasions. But she couldn’t understand what would make him think that she could steal sources. She seemed to take her job very seriously. Sure, she was a pain but that didn’t mean she was a criminal.

“I’ve got something here! Bobby, y/n join me in the hall.” Kipps called.

They drew their rapiers and walked slowly into the hall. Kipps was looking at a corner where shadow had gathered. There was a faint, almost indistinguishable human shape lurking there. But it didn’t move, and it didn’t seem to want anything more than just stand there.

“I’m going to keep an eye on it while you two look for the source.” Kipps told them without averting his eyes from the dark figure.

“But what more can we do we looked everywhere already.” Bobby said with a sigh.

“Well,” Kipps turned to her. “y/n, got any ideas?”

She didn’t answer. She hadn’t heard them as she was lost in thought. Mrs. Overton hadn’t mentioned anything about the display cases here. But she should have. There were marks on the walls behind them, and again on the marble floor. It was a clear sign that bigger and heavier furniture had been removed to make room for new ones. That change alone could have triggered the ghost. And since they were behind glass, they hadn’t tested any of the objects on display. Though they were all Overton Watches so, clearly, they didn’t have anything to do with Mrs. Overton’s ancestors. Another dead end. She lingered in front of the central display, slowly losing hope. If such a ridiculously small case was too much for her, what was she even doing here? Sure, the two guys accompanying her weren’t inspired either, but she was disappointed in herself. She had dealt with dangerous situations without flinching, but a Lurker case was getting the best of her. That was embarrassing. She rested her hands on the case and looked down at the watches. There were four watches spread across a silk white sheet surrounding a bigger, more ancient clock. They didn’t seem that impressive. Why were people making such a big deal out of them? The clock on the other hand was more ornate and had required skilled craftmanship. The mechanism was apparent and intricate. It was still working which was most impressive. A golden crown rested delicately upon a mother-of-pearl dial, the needles moving steadily around. Right beneath the number 6 was engraved something almost unreadable. She squinted to see better. The initials EA were written in golden letters.

“I’ve found it! The source! It’s this clock right here!”

“Nice work y/n. Keep an eye on the ghost I’ll take care of the source.”

They switched position and she kept her eyes on the shadow as Kipps tried to get the clock out of the display.

“I can’t get to it, it’s locked. I’m gonna have to break the glass.”

“No! Don’t do that Mrs. Overton would be livid. Bobby go get Mrs. Dufour and Kipps don’t touch anything please.” She said with her back to them, her eyes still staring at the corner.

“Did you find the source? What is it?” Mrs. Dufour asked, suddenly in a hurry.

“We have reasons to believe this clock is the object causing Mrs. Overton trouble.”

“That’s really nice work Mr. Kipps congratulations.”

“I much appreciate your praise, but it has to go to y/n. She found the source. As we don’t have a key, I offered to break the glass, but y/n thinks it would upset our client.”

“Well thank you Miss y/n for using some common sense. We cannot break anything in this house.”

“We could drape a silver net over the case and come back in the morning to pick up the source.” She offered.

“I think it would be best. Thank you again for your prompt judgement here.”

“It was my pleasure.” She blushed. It was nice to have her efforts acknowledged, no matter how small. This supervisor might have been a stickler, but she recognized good work, it was enough to satisfy her. This case turned out pretty well after all.

[ghouloflove]

when worlds collide.

in other words, the only female member of the biggest korean band in the world goes to formula 1 race in monaco with a friend; only to meet a certain ferrari driver.

pairing: charles leclerc x oc/fc (reader is an idol)

authors note: hello hello, this is me simply trying my attempt at sm aus! lately been fixated on f1, even trying to learn more about:) ofc a tiktok popped up abt charles then opps down the rabbit hole 🕳️ n recently found out that Wi (squid game actor) was at monaco this year so obviously I was like…..somethings cooking. then the 10th anniversary came for bts then again….something is being made. anyways hope you all like! (trying my best on remembering on certain ascents of the kpop social media goes cuz i'm not thatttt deep into it anymore!)

ps. soyeon is the actual name of the fc, i simply changed it to kim soyeon. check her and group out, G-IDLE! annndd her signature emoji is 🐻‍❄️! ALSO Monaco Grand Prix takes place three races into the 2023 season, for the sake of appropriate posts 🥴 this little sm au has its own race schedule for special purposes because lord knows I don't do well with dates so !!! but Im pretty sure all the race dates are the same, just the races switch spots :) and of course, google translated korean, french and italian will appear.

-enjoy.

part two. part three.

[ instagram ]

s0ye0nnnn

liked by rkive, wi_wi_wi, soye0nssloot and 4,589,890 others

s0ye0nnn monaco 🇲🇨 f1 race weekend with wi ! met some cool people and had some great laughs. first time but definitely not my last kekee

view all 1,673,890 comments

wi_wi_wi why not redbull though!?

rkive we must go to one together!

view 53,389 replies

s0ye0nnn 🙌

luvusoye0n wowoww wishing u hadn’t gone on charles curse home race 🥲 he’s great tho!

tomholland2013 wonderful seeing you again! glad you had fun!

scuderiaferrari it was an absolute pleasure having you visit and chat with us at the padlock! 😎 team Ferrari, yes?

view 12,456 replies

s0yeonsluvr shes got incredible taste, as always 😌

charleslec01 idk who she is, except shes in a band but i like her already lol

mysticalyeon holdupholdup….chat? with who👀

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letsgossip_kpop

liked by ncccct101 and 321,789 others

letsgossip_kpop [ ASIDE FROM GOSSIP, LET’S UPDATE ⬆️: Kim Soyeon, the only female member of BTS (an international sensation group), has recently attended the Formula 1’s Monaco Grand Prix over the weekend. With Wi Ha-Jun, star of Squid Games, she was spotted chatting with her previous co-star from the animated film Onward, Tom Holland and others such as Actor James Marsden (who she has been rumored to be featuring in a film with as his on-screen lover). It seems her most talked about conversation even by her close friend, Wi Ha-Jun—was with the Ferrari team and drivers, Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz. There are no sources on what the conversation contained but her friend Wi Ha-Jun comment on her recent instagram post suggests her team is now Ferrari, “Why not redbull though?!” Perhaps there will be more to be said once she and fellow member, Kim Namjoon, attend a Grand Prix together as shown in her comments. Will this remain just an update or turn into gossip? Stay tuned! - from your admin 🌱]

view all 102,678 comments

charlecssss sooo….shes the only female in BTS? i remember seeing her around them all time pictures or videos of them came up but like…???

f0rmulatypee1 nice to see someone like her status get familiar with the sport, but hopefully she’ll turn team Redbull 🙏 the winners 🏆

s0yeonmyluv WHEN MY WOLDSS CLOOIDE 💀

k.f1.pop i was literally just saying what if F1 drivers had photocards 👹

letsgossip_kpop UPDATE ⬆️: Charles Leclerc, and Carlos Sainz have followed Kim Soyeon’s social media (Instagram and Twitter). Other drivers such as Lewis Hamiliton, Lando Norris and Zhou Guanyu have followed her before her recent introduction to Formula 1. (Admin 👾: my worlds have collided!)

maxverssstp fuck outtaa here, cirnge 🤢

lalaaland noooo this was the only place away from the freaks in kpop🥴

s0yeonnnbby idk y ppl r hating like…shes like everyone else, trying have a good time n yet ppl r mad that drivers r starting (AND BEEN) following her????🤠

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[ twitter ]

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[ instagram ]

s0ye0nnn

liked by rkive, thv, wi_wi_wi, 101ofkims, charles_leclerc and 4,890,487 others

s0ye0nnn 10 years of pain. of comfort. of love. of heartbreak. of the highest of highs, to the scum of the earth lows. of questions, “can you do this?”, “is this the end?”, “can you handle this?”.

this group went from strangers to friends to family. i was the odd one out, most definitely. i was a girl in a group with seven boys. i was originally meant to leave the company but the man who believed we could become something pushed me into the group. it was strange—then it wasn’t.

year after year, we slowly formed a family. with one thing in common: we loved music. music has always been in my blood, even in my blood family. my found family has created melodies , poetry hidden in symbolic instrumentals and videos descriptive of what is and what is not.

within that, we found others like us. others that may not be in musical industry but found their place and home in our music—that is you, ARMY.

당신의 삶을 우리와 공유해 주셔서 감사합니다. 여전히 우리와 함께 걸어주셔서 감사합니다. 모두가 돌아올 때까지 기다려 주셔서 감사합니다. 💜 ( translation: Thank you for sharing your life with us. Thank you for still walking with us. Thanks for waiting for everyone to come back. )

view all 1,089,678 comments

rkive beautiful words, 작은 곰 🐻‍❄️🤍

view 12,467 replies

s0ye0nnn 최고에게 배웠다 ! 🐨🤍 ( translation: learned from the best! )

b0anggtans enough to amke a grown woman 😢

thv 🐻‍❄️❤️

biassssjk the last photonnnn!!!!! idk y but thats so cute 🥹

purpuryouuu 10 yearsssss 😅 been here for 5💜💜💜

charles_leclerc Just began listening to your discography! Can’t wait for your future projects, solo and group! ❤️ Happy 10 years 😆

view 1,098 replies

s0ye0nnn come visit korea! some behind the scenes? 👀

cl16lucyyy aaARIAN WHAT U DOH G HERRE!?! 💀😭

f14liferrrr no charles!!! stay Way from kpoppiess! 🚫

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s0ye0nnn

tagged rkive

liked by rkive, wi_wi_wi, charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari, and 5,098,450 others

s0ye0nnn Australian Grand Prix 🇦🇺 with joonie! 🐨 was very fun, nice views and such great company (on and off track?) !

view all 1,098,762 comments

rkive mercedes....🐻‍❄️

view 15,098 replies

s0ye0nnn hushhhhh k.f1.pop RM knows whatsup

scuderiaferrari It was an absolute pleasure having you with us! You must come again, lucky charm!

danielricciardo Despite opposite teams, it was so cool to meet and chat for awhile! Good laughs 😁

s0yoyoens slayed everyone, ate, left no crumbs, walk me like a dog!!!!!!

charles_leclerc I think your words helped a bit, haha 😉 Coming to next one?

view 5,647 replies

s0ye0nnn noooo, your talent! and of course, this is my new obsession! 😍 s0yeonmyluv SHUT UO NOW omfgggg WHAT WORDS?// KET ME INNNNN formula1n1mv charlesssss....you're approaching new and scary territory !!!

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[ twitter ]

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authors final note:

i really hope you all enjoy this! this is sorta one of the social media au where it's a somewhat slow build because lets be honest, just meeting once and dating right after aint happening, plus who doesn't love the subtle growth of a friendship ;) oh and this universe of kpop are actually treated like humans by their company and can date but of course, haters are going hate plus Kim Soyeon is THAT bitch. ofc you are be her, that is essentially the purpose but i kinda dislike "y/n" idk just kinda makes it hard for me to make everything look good but dw just close ur eyes and imagineeeee, soyeon is just a fc for the posts keke. if you want to be tagged in the next part, comment and i'll do it! PART TWO IS ALREADY IN THE MAKING, LITERALLY ALMOST DONE WITH IT.

guide: i am always open to constructive criticism. i'm always down to learn how to better and try to implement them.

--and that world is yours, until next time.

[writeshite]

would you write more of the smart cookie fic? im just very very into it and would love a part 2 🫶🏻

Love You To The Moon & Back

Summary:

“Good morning to you, too,” you kiss his forehead, and he mumbles something else, snuggling deeper into your arms. “What happened to the early bird catches the worm, hmm?” “....not a bird…no worms please….” he mumbles. “Hmm,” you respond, rubbing circles along his back, “How about pancakes? I think I might have some blueberries or chocolate chips,” you muse; Spencer peeks up at you. “Ah, I see I’ve piqued your interest.”

Pairings:

Spencer Reid x Male Reader

Tags:

Tattooed Reader (Because I Don’t See Enough Of That) | Fluff | A Wee Bit Of Angst | Developing Relationship | I Shook Spencer & Insecurities Fell Out | Inaccurate Laws & Profiling Probably (Take What I Write With A Grain Of Salt :)

Words: 4690

Author's Note:

Yes, you may 😌. I've been thinking of doing some more stuff for the AUs I make, cause it's fun, and I think male & gender-neutral readers need more AUs. Sorry for making this long 💀.

Previous

I found the experience of falling in love or being in love was a death: a death of everything. You kind of watch yourself die in a wonderful way, and you experience for the briefest moment - if you see yourself for a moment through their eyes - everything you believed about yourself gone. In a death-and-rebirth sense.

- Hozier

Around Spencer, the kitchen felt like a world away as he took in the feeling he was experiencing; with light, frivolous laughter, he hid his face in your chest to stop himself from falling into giddy hysterics. You were equally as giddy, chuckling when Spencer met your eye, “So…what now?” he asked.

“Well, we’ve got a few more hours of work,” you respond, chuckling when his face scrunched up in mock irritation, “but after, we could go on a date,” you suggest.

“Date?”

“Hmm, you know,” you respond, “that thing people do when they want to pursue a romantic relationship.” He smiles; admittedly, he hadn’t thought past the kiss, now surprised to find you wanted to cultivate something along the lines of an actual romantic relationship with him. 

“Yeah, I know,” he responds, “what do you have in mind?”

“Well, the museum has a new Classics exhibit,” you reply, and Spencer is amazed that you’d genuinely been paying attention when he’d dumped his knowledge of 15th Century literature on you. “What do you say?”

“Yes,” he nods enthusiastically, excitedly bouncing on the balls of his feet. The hours left at work breeze through fast, and Spencer spends most of it with dancing hands, a wide smile on his face - your date is set to 9:30 AM, Saturday morning. He goes home with a prep in his step, and when the weekend comes around, his enthusiasm soars; Saturday morning sees few clouds in the sky and the promise of sun. Spencer kept to his usual attire of casualness; the streets were averagely busy, and he twists the strap of his satchel on his way there, quelling any anxieties that manage to break past the excitement. Said anxieties are set aside when he notes how well your leather jacket hugs your arms. 

“Hey, cookie,” you greet, hand reaching out to hold his.

“Hey,” he threads his fingers with yours, thumb rubbing circles on your skin as you make your way through the museum. The Classics exhibit displayed several kraters from c. 520-500 BCE, Etruscan figurines, Greek and Roman sculptures, and various other artifacts. Classics isn’t as interesting a topic it seems, as the crowd is relatively small, but Spencer is thankful for that - the overcrowded dinosaur exhibit you’d passed came to mind, and he shuddered at the thought of being caught up in that. 

“Etruscan tomb painting….” You read off one of the displays before turning to him with a knowing smile.

“Oh, the Etruscans were a civilization that flourished in Central Italy between the 8th and 3rd Century BCE, renowned in antiquity for their rich mineral resources and as a major Mediterranean trading power,” he speaks easily, basking in the fondness you directed towards his rambling. “Much of their history and culture was either destroyed or assimilated into the conquering Roman Empire. Tomb painting is considered one of the Etruscans' greatest legacies, with beautifully painted tombs in Tarquinia, Cerveteri, Chiusi, and Vulci.”

The exhibit didn’t have the actual paintings, instead displaying photographic copies with annotations and interactive maps; the sculptures are set up to mimic the inside of a temple, leading to the back where the kraters are set. The other sculptures are scattered about the room, and Spencer beams when you turn to him for information, having spoken more today than he has in a long time. He coughs in the middle of his tangent about pediments; he rubs the back of his neck and apologizes for the scratchy throat.

You chuckle, “Come on, let’s get something for that cough, eh?” The museum’s cafe is surprisingly empty, with a few people milling about here and there and the majority off at the shops. You both get iced teas and take a table away near one of the window walls. Spencer keeps hold of your hand and drums his fingers mindlessly. He is saddened when the date comes to an end. “C —can we do this again?”

You nod enthusiastically in response, and still riding on the coattails of joy, he asks, “Can I kiss you again?”

“As many times as you like, love.” 

He beams, leaning into your space to do just that, his thumb rubs across your skin, and even after you part for the day, Spencer is ecstatic - the joy persisting into tomorrow as he skips with every step. “Well, well, well, someone’s happy,” Derek remarks. “I hope this means you finally said something to loverboy.”

“Yup,” Spencer responds, “we, uh, had a date yesterday.”

Derek pats Spencer’s back with a proud smile, “You know what this means? I, Derek Morgan, was right.” Spencer shakes his head; any attempts to clarify to Derek that this wasn’t exactly an I told you so moment fell on deaf ears as the man smugly waltzed from the elevator with a cheer. Spencer follows after; when you arrive some moments later, it’s with two coffees as usual, and the day begins as the first of many days chasing an unsub through the Appalachian Mountains. 

“It’s almost like some twisted sightseeing event,” Derek mumbles. “The unsub’s earliest activities can be traced in Alabama; they kidnap two people, and from what the surviving witnesses have said, make both victims fight to the death, the winner gets to live.”

“Ties get both killed, and refusal to fight does the same,” you add. “They’re patient, willing to wait for months if need be to strike again. The murders between Kentucky and West Virginia had two years between them; if they are following the mountains, then there’s a chance they’ll cross over into Canada and most likely out of our hands.”

“Alright, then, let’s make sure that doesn’t happen,” Gideon says, “What else do we know?”

“They’re also meticulous, the locations, the methods, the choosing of victims. It’s all so careful, like some form of entertainment,” Spencer responds.

The facts are as follows:

The unsub has little regard for other people, seeing them as pawns for their own amusement.

The victims appear randomly selected, but on closer inspection, all seem to play into their disturbing amusement. Features vary, but all work in the retail industry - the unsub walks through retail stores for hours before picking. They’d do the same company for two states before switching to another, then another, and another.

Victims had a week; after that, survivors were left tied, with a sack over their heads at their place of work, and corpses were left in the same place as well.

The unsub didn’t care for publicity and seemed to want to keep it as something private. 

Pennsylvania is the next destination; the first victim is already chosen by the time of landing, which leaves one of hundreds if not thousands of other potential candidates. Spencer and Gideon stay with the local police department, you split off with Ellle, and Hotch goes off with Derek. Spencer bounces off theories and facts with Gideon; the profile becomes clearer but comes with a few more holes. The unsub seems well-red, familiar with police procedures, not intimately, more so like someone who’s read and heard extensively enough to understand.

“The space between murders suggests they must have traveling involved in their day-to-day life to be able to do so with such ease. Said life must offer them some satisfaction if they’re able to handle their urges so well.“ Gideon pointed to the mapped-out route of the unsub, “They could be in the tourism field, a flight attendant or a business consultant, something that lets them go from state to state easily enough.”

“Business consultants are sought after for their professional advice and services; they locate challenges in businesses and strategize plans to find solutions; they essentially come in and take over control, in the same way the unsub takes power over one’s life from their victims.” Spencer rambles, “but why target retails workers?”

Gideon sighs, “The higher up the chain you go, the less regard you have for your fellow man,” he states, “83% of retail workers report harassment from customers, the higher the social class, the worse the abuse can be. Our unsub’s disregard for human life may also be intrinsically linked to their social class as well as their occupation.”

“So everyone below a certain point is no better than cattle to them?” Gideon nods in response to Spencer’s question. 

“Can I help you folks out?”

The Goodwill of the first victim’s kidnapping was small, residential houses all around; the community around it wasn’t small per se, but close enough to take note when outsiders came about. The manager, Naomi Hughes, is a kind middle-aged woman of relative height, hair in a neat row of braids along her head.

You and Elle introduce yourselves and draw out your badges, “We’re here about Hayden Mullins.”

She nods, “Oh yes…uh…come with me.” She leads you to the back and into her office, “Hayden was working the closing shift when he was abducted, I told him not to work it alone, but he was determined. Home isn’t the happiest place for him,” she explains, “I’d let him sleep here when his dad was making a ruckus, get some food in him. He’s a good kid; I don’t know why anyone would go after him.”

“Did he have any hostile interactions with customers in the days before he was taken?” you ask.

“Who doesn’t? Folks get real snappy when you can’t get them what they want.” She rubs her temple, “I had a customer scream at me 'cause we didn’t carry non-salted water,” she exclaims with quotation marks, “what the hell is non-salted water?”

Elle huffs and shakes her head, “What about friendly customers? Did you notice anyone who didn’t act the way you’d expect? Anyone who stood out for a different reason?”

Naomi purses her lips, “Now that you mention it,” she opens her desk and pulls out a file, “There was this one woman; she was nice, like really nice. She said she’d just come off a four-hour road trip, so we was ready for all sorts of tantrums, but….”

“But what?” Elle asks.

“She was sweet. Smiled at me and said it was alright when we couldn’t get her what she needed,” Naomi’s face scrunched up a little, “I was a little spooked if I’m being honest; I mean, I’ve had nice customers, but she was something else.” She shuddered, passing over the file to you, “I was gonna forget all about her, but….when she looked at Hayden,” she shook her head, “I got a bad feeling.”

Inside the file was a woman’s side profile - hair clipped back into a bun, light makeup from what you can note in the black and white frame, a neatly kept suit - for all intents and purposes, a regular businesswoman. 

“Hayden was stocking the shelves, I think, and she got mad when he couldn’t man a checkout. Had to have her escorted from the premises, but she came back again —oh my god, do you think she—”

“We don’t know that yet, ma’am,” you interject, “this is still an ongoing investigation; we’re just looking into all the facts as of now.”

“Don’t blame yourself for anything that happened,” Elle tells her.

Naomi nods, “Promise me something, if…if anything happens, you’ll tell me before you tell the news, understand?” You both nod to her request and leave with the security footage and any receipts linked back to the woman.

“If this, April Walsh is our unsub,” Elle points to the picture, “it sounds like she doesn’t like to lose control, the ties, the refusal to fight, it was in the hands of the victims, it was anarchy….” 

“....she can’t let it thrive,” you finish. “The store is already out of her comfort zone and control; what if she assigns roles to the people around her, say Naomi? Managers are notorious for allowing bad behavior, but when Naomi didn’t….” You get behind the wheel and drive while throwing around more theories.

“....she got angry. April told Naomi she came off a four-hour drive; how far is the last crime scene?” She pulls out her phone, and minutes later, she cheers, “Four hours, and eighteen minutes, it’s not much, but….”

“It’s something; let’s get back to Spencer and Gideon with the info.” 

“Speaking of Spencer,” Elle chuckles, “a little birdy told me the two of you went out on a date.”

You groan and roll your eyes, “Seriously?”

“Come on, I mean, Derek’s been bragging that he got Mr. Lovebird and the Resident Genius together,” she quips, “plus, you two make a cute couple.”

You smile, “Thanks. At the very least, I know there’s another date somewhere in the future, so good things to come, I hope.”

“Oh, they’re definitely coming,” Elle remarks. You lightly smack her arm and laugh as you pull up to the local precinct. She raises her eyebrows when Spencer greets you laughing when you stick your tongue out at her.

“Hey, cookie.”

“Hey,” he responds, grinning at you, “did you bring me anything?” he quips.

“How does a potential name for our unsub sound?” You give him the file, “and also, a few more details to add to the profile?”

“I’d say it sounds good,” Gideon responds with a small smile. You and Spencer huff, amused and bashful - Elle relays the theories you’d bounced off each other in the car as Spencer pins April’s image on the board, while Gideon does the same to catch you up on what he and Spencer discussed while you were away. “We can brief the officers when Hotch and Derek get back.”

“It’s about two things,” Gideon begins, facing the  “control and entertainment. The unsub does not care for anyone but herself; at best, anyone outside of that is a form of entertainment and, at worst, an annoyance.” He points to April’s security image, “April Kennedy Walsh is a business consultant, highly sought after from what we’ve gathered, and meticulous with just about everything, from her schedule to her wardrobe.”

“Her method of murder calls back to the gladiatorial fights in the Colosseum; the emperor and the people of Rome would watch as gladiators fought with each other or animals,” Spencer adds, “she feels no remorse for her victims and rewards winners with their life. Refusing to fight for her amusement might insult her in some way, as though she were an actual Roman emperor.”

“She fits in easily with the crowd from a distance, but up close, her disregard peeks through during moments of loss of control. She’s not shown any violent behaviors during those times, but it can’t be ruled out,” Derek passes copies of April’s photos, “and judging by how she took little time to disguise herself in any way, she’s not afraid of being caught. In fact, this whole chase could be another form of entertainment for her, the same way you or I sit back and watch TV.”

“The potential want to be caught doesn’t mean she isn’t using an alias and could be a way to challenge us, so be on the lookout,” Gideon finished.

The officers split off after the debrief, and you gather back as a group, “There’s a few other Goodwills from the first and a bunch more in Pennsylvania; we can’t search them all,” Elle points out, “and even if we did, she’s patient, she could just as easily wait until the smoke blows over before coming back.”

“We don’t have much of a choice; handing out her photo to the media could cause her to abandon the hunt too, and then we’d have no easy way of finding Hayden,” you say, “there has to be some kind of pattern between the stores she chooses.”

“She chooses the same two stores for each pair of victims, always employees, never managers; after two pairs, she changes stores,” JJ reiterates, “what if she’s following the road? Picking whatever store she sees on her way?” She looks at the map, hand trailing over the red pins set on the previous stores, “The first incident was in Huntsville, Alabama, from there, and according to her schedule, she had been on a back-to-back business expose.”

You pick up blue pins and place them outside the border of the Appalachian Mountains, “In that two-year break period, she was in Lancaster, Ohio.” You put a pin there, “then Richmond, Virginia. Maybe, the two-year gap wasn’t by choice or lack of available victims.”

“Personal tragedy? But we couldn’t find anything like that,” JJ sighed, “then again, we could barely find anything about her personal life. Her parents are divorced, and when I called and asked about April, they hung up on me really quick.”

“What are you thinking?” You ask.

“Well, what if this disregard for people started early? Her mother was a judge, her father a surgeon; I’d say that’s enough money to cover up any accidents,” JJ theorizes, “both high-pressure jobs might have caused the divorce. But why not speak about their daughter?”

“One or both parents could have felt guilty, argued with the other about covering it up, then,” you shrug, “divorce?”

You dial Garcia’s number and wait as the tone rings, “Mistress of all knowledge, how may I enlighten you today?”

“Hey, gorgeous,” you greet, she scoffs on the other end, and you can imagine she’s rolling her eyes.

“Ah, my favorite work of art,” she greets back.

“We need to know if April has any juvenile records, sealed records, anything like that, and if her mother was involved in having them buried.”

“Okie dokie.” She types fast a few clicks later and, “Wow. I’ve found a couple of things, most of them cited as isolated incidents and common behavior among children, but one sticks out, November 23rd, 1999, the same year Judge Walsh resigned from her post.”

“She give any reason why?” You inquire.

“Nope.”

“Alright, thanks, Garcia.”

“Anytime.”

You relay the information, “The divorce happened the next year,” JJ mumbles, “let’s see if we can get those records open.”

November 23rd, 1999. April K. Walsh attended a camping trip near Lake Michigan; during a scavenger hunt, one of April’s buddies - Sam Goodwin - was found face down in the waters; the leading theory was Sam had gotten distracted and veered off the trail, with little experience swimming, Sam may have slipped into the water, panicked then subsequently drowned. The children had been paired into groups of three; the third child, Emma Chavez, had insisted that April had done it, and one detective had shot in the dark - months of investigation, and it looked like April would be facing time in a juvenile detention facility.

“What juvenile detention facility did she get sent to?” Gideon asks.

“None; close to the trial, the whole case fell apart; the next year, Judge Walsh resigned from her post and got a divorce.”

“Phone calls won’t cut it,” Hotch states, “we need her parents down here now.”

Joshua Walsh - now a retired surgeon- stayed close to Lake Michigan after the divorce and never remarried. Sofia Phillips - previously Sofia Walsh, post-divorce, she moved to Vermont, remarried, and had two more children before returning to work as a judge in a more minor position. Both refused to look each other in the eye; Joshua appeared more saddened, while Sofia was irritated. 

“I’m sure you have a good reason for dragging me all the way here,” Sofia grumbled.

You knew very little of Sofia Phillips, but from what you could gauge, she held herself higher than others and regarded the investigation with about as much regard as buying the wrong flavor of juice.

“Yes, ma’am, we wanted to ask about your daughter, April,” Hotch replied.

“April? Please, I don’t have a daughter called April anymore.”

Joshua scoffed, “Yes, you do, April Kennedy Walsh,” he turned to her, pulling out his wallet with shaky hands; he riffled through it before holding a picture in her face. “She had your eyes, remember?”

“Yes, I also remember her being dead to me, Joshua,” Sofia responds, glancing away. “She was always troubled. I tried to be a good mother, but sometimes you just can’t beat that attitude out of them.” She crosses one leg over the other, “I thank god I was blessed with two wonderful children after her, kind, obedient, nothing like April.”

“Hypocrite much? Where do you think she got it from, huh?”

Sofia rolls her eyes and glances at Hotch, “Are we finished now? My son has a recital in a few hours.” Hotch nods, and she leaves without a second glance; Joshua stays seated, shaking his head with a sigh.

“April…she’s not a bad kid…just lost. Sofia and I didn’t expect to have kids that early…I mean, we coped, but our jobs….” He looks at the photo again, “I tried as best as I could to be there, but Sofia…I wish I did better."

Joshua reluctantly recounts the event of November 23rd, 1999, alongside his divorce and any other moments before and after that point. The Appalachian Mountains had been Joshua’s dream destination, Sofia, to no surprise, had constantly been vocal about instilling the appropriate life goals in April - high grades, top careers, appropriate connections. The stores chosen all had qualities Sofia had cited as detestable, with Pennsylvania’s first Goodwill reminding her too much of her least favorite architecture - brutalist architecture. So going off that, the next Goodwill would have to be similar in style as well. This new detail leads to a few counties over.

April Walsh doesn’t fight when caught; appearing exhausted, the only other emotion she shows is a mix of relief and joy when she sees Mr. Walsh again, but it’s brief. She sits without prompting, crosses a leg over the other, and makes her only demand, “I’d like to speak to my father—”

“Give us Hayden,” Hotch counters.

“Who? Oh, the retail worker,” she scoffs, “he’s perfectly safe, tied and unconscious in room 345, Liberty Hotel. Now, can I please talk to my father?” Hotch nods, leaving for Hayden with everyone but Gideon and Reid. Hayden is unharmed, drowsy, and confused when he awakes.

You slump into your seat on the airplane, Spencer sits by you, and you lean your head against his shoulder. “No one wake me up for anything,” Derek mumbles across from you, lying across two seats to nap. 

“You look bored, cookie.” Spencer glances over at you; the others on the plane have either gone to sleep or relaxed in their seats.

“Maybe, but I’m not sure there’s much to do in an airplane.”

“We could play a game —not that kind,” you remark; he’d raised his eyebrows, and a light blush had dusted his cheeks, “we can do that at a later date, Dr. Reid. Right now, I was thinking of something like the ABC game.”

“ABC game?”

You sit up, “On long car rides, my grandma loved to play it; we choose a topic or theme and go through the alphabet. Say the theme was food, I’d say apricot; then you’d say bread; we can narrow down themes like food to fruits or vegetables.” 

“Ooh, that sounds interesting; ok, what’s the theme?” he asks, turning towards you.

“We can stick with food; it’s pretty easy and fun for a first-timer,” you reply, “We’ve got apricot and bread down, so, C, carrot cake.”

“Ok, donut.”

“Éclair.”

“French onion soup.”

You breeze through the first round, and Spencer picks the next theme - countries - which you manage through a quarter of before landing; you carry on while on the tarmac and finish just before leaving for home. It’s late afternoon in Quantico; Spencer bumps his hand against yours as you walk, smiling when you hold his hand in response. Paperwork is easy enough, and once done, you collectively sigh in relief when no other case comes up. It’s not night yet, and hearing everyone else make plans or detail what they have in mind when they leave has Spencer debating on whether to have that second date now.

“Thinking hard?” You ask, laughing when he comes out of his thoughts to find you standing close to him.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, “do you…uh…can we have that second date now? I know this great Indian restaurant, it’s a bit out of the way, but it has very good chicken tandoori.”

“Sure, lead the way.”

The restaurant is nice, getting there just half an hour after it opens at 5:00 PM; there’s plenty of space to choose from; Spencer leads you to his favorite seat by the fish tank. It’s a nice date; Spencer finds his legs close to yours after you split the bill, leaving just after seven. “Did you like it?”

“Loved it,” you respond. “You sure know how to treat a man, sweetheart.”

Spencer tugs at your arm, smiling into the kiss you give him. “Goodnight, love.”

Spencer is soft.

It’s what you repeatedly note - when he smiles, leans into your space for a kiss, or drums your fingers along your hands. When he snuffles in his sleep, a moment before waking up, “Morning….” he’d mumble before dozing off for a few odd minutes. 

“Good morning to you, too,” you kiss his forehead, and he mumbles something else, snuggling deeper into your arms. “What happened to the early bird catches the worm, hmm?”

“....not a bird…no worms please….” he mumbles.

“Hmm,” you respond, rubbing circles along his back, “How about pancakes? I think I might have some blueberries or chocolate chips,” you muse; Spencer peeks up at you. “Ah, I see I’ve piqued your interest.” You laugh as Spencer ponders between the comfort of the bed and the prospect of pancakes. You leave him to his decision-making; by the time you’ve made the batter, Spencer shuffles from the bedroom - donning one of your hoodies and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Spencer hugs you from the back and pecks the space between your shoulder blades, “Süss,” he says. 

You purse your lips and glance over your shoulder at him, “Süss? Come on; I thought you liked a challenge?” You switch off the stove and turn to face him, “German. Sweet.”

“I wasn’t looking for a challenge today,” he clarifies, “I was stating a fact.” He points at you as he repeats the word. “Mein süss.” 

You grin, “I’d say you’re the sweet one, cookie.” He scrunches his nose, “Mein süßer Keks.” You wink when he stares at you, “You’re not the only one with a knack for languages.” He sticks out his tongue, leaving the kitchen with the pancakes; you join him at the dining table - he sits with his back to the window, soaking in the sun like a cat.

“Fun fact, chocolate chips melt best at temperatures between 104 °F and 113 °F; the melting process starts at 90 °F when the chips’ cocoa butter starts to heat. For milk and white chocolate chips, the temperature shouldn’t exceed 115 °F; for dark chocolate, it’s 120 °F; otherwise, the chocolate will burn.”

You nod, “Which flavor’s your favorite?”

“The classic chips, made from small chunks of sweetened chocolate, I like to eat them in winter when there’s less chance for them to melt in the bag,” he answers. “What about you?”

“I don’t mind, but I suppose I prefer the classic ones too.” The pancakes were long gone by now, and coffees almost finished; Spencer had come previously to visit but never slept over before, “How’d you sleep?” You ask, placing your arm around his shoulders.

“Good,” he yawns, “you’re really comfortable.” You chuckle as Spencer snuggles closer, “Can we go back to bed?” He asks with another yawn.

“Hmm,” you stand, “you head on in; I’ll take care of the dishes.” He nods, shuffling back to the bedroom; you gather the dishes, rinse off the food, place them in the dishwasher, and leave them to clean. You find Spencer nestled comfortably under the blankets; when you slide in alongside him, he latches onto you, not fully asleep and not fully lucid. You comb your fingers through his hair, and when his breath evens out, you close your own eyes and doze off.

End Note:

This turned out a lot longer than I thought it would, and also, not that I think it needs mentioning, but this and the previous fic takes place somewhere in season one. Stay Hydrated.