#I will never post this much times in a row ever again

[beloveds-embrace]

Thinking about designationless!reader au, how the boys would spend HOURS searching for candles that properly represented their scents so reader would feel included in the nest

Anyway just wanted to say I LOVE your writing and you've got me inspired to write my own little designationless!reader au (which if I ever do post, I will tag you for credits ❤️❤️), its just has so many possibilities

Every time I see you post, blog, wtver this website wants to call it, my day gets a little brighter :)

-👽

omg thank you so so so much anon?? you are so very sweet!! i am very happy to know you like my stuff and felt inspired by it!! i hope you enjoy this, your idea was wonderful! <33 omegaverse masterlist

The idea had started innocently enough.

Gaz had mentioned it one night while they were snuggled in the nest, you nestled warm and comfy between them all. You’d fallen asleep on Price’s chest, Soap’s arm thrown over your waist, Ghost’s steady breathing brushing your temple, and Gaz quietly watching from the edge.

“She can’t smell us,” Gaz had murmured, musing and cutting through the peaceful silence. “But… what if she could? Just a little? For the nest.”

It was a seed of an idea that quickly took root in all of them.

The next day, they found themselves walking through shops they’d normally never step foot in- boutiques, candle stores, even a few farmers’ markets. Price looked utterly out of place amongst rows of colorful jars, his gruff demeanor clashing with the delicate scents wafting around him. Soap, on the other hand, took to it with a determination that made the staff wary as he sniffed candle after candle, holding them up to Gaz and Ghost for confirmation.

“This one’s close, isn’t it?” he asked, holding up a jar labeled Amber Woods. He shoved it under Ghost’s nose, earning an irritated growl.

“Too sweet,” Ghost muttered then, shaking his head. “Try again.”

Gaz was off in another aisle, holding up a candle labeled Vanilla Bourbon and frowning. “This isn’t right either. It’s too… fake.” He sighed, setting it down with a heavy thunk. “How’s it this hard to find something that fits?”

Price stood in the corner, his brow furrowed as he examined the names on the candles. He knew and had been told many times his cedarwood scent was sharp and earthy, grounding in a way that none of these synthetic imitations could capture. He picked one up- Smoked Cedar- and took a deep inhale.

“Not bad." He said after a moment, setting it aside in their “maybe” pile.

They spent hours combing through the store, moving from candle jars to wax melts to essential oil blends. They argued with each other quietly, then with the amused store employees, their tones growing increasingly frustrated with each other as they tried to find scents that truly represented themselves.

“It’s just a candle, sirs,” One employee, clearly annoyed with them, chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Does it really matter this much?”

Ghost’s dark eyes snapped to him, his voice low and dangerous, not helped by the balaclava and cap he wore. “It’s not just a candle. It’s for someone.”

That shut the employee up quickly.

Eventually, after what felt like an eternity and much sniffing, they settled on a few options.

When they brought the candles back to the nest (oh, how they loved that you were beginning to spend more and more of your free time there), you blinked up at them, confused by their triumphant expressions and the little bag Price held in his hand. They looked a little too proud of themselves.

“What’s all this?” You asked, sitting up from your spot. I

“Something for you.” Price said simply, his voice soft as he placed candles on the table.

Soap grinned, almost vibrating with excitement and pride as he gestured for you to come closer. “Go on, lass. Smell ‘em.”

You leaned forward, hesitantly uncapping the first candle. The cedarwood hit you first, earthy and grounding, and your eyes fluttered shut as you hummed in delight. You glanced up at Price when you heard a deep rumble you've come to understand as prideful.

“This is.... you, isn't it?” you realized, earning a small nod from him.

You went through each one, inhaling the soft citrus of Soap’s, the richness of Ghost’s smoky scent, the soothing vanilla of Gaz’s. By the time you finished, you stared at them with something akin to more awe than the sun has for its orbiting planets.

“You did this... for me?”

“Of course,” Gaz pressed a kiss to your temple. “Wanted you to feel like you’re part of us. Always.”

You didn’t know what to say, but as they lit the candles and pulled you back into the nest, you felt surrounded by them in a way you never had before.

And for the first time, you felt as if you could... be like them. For once, you understood what their scents were like- a part of their world for just a moment.

You will be keeping those candles.

[yuvany]

꒰ 🥊 ꒱ ENHYPEN IN THE RING

// ENHYPEN as boxers and you're their number one prize.

─── ( on point ) OT7 x female reader contains : fluff + violence mentioned + pet names + est relationship + cameras + boxing!au + non!idol enha + not proofread 887 wc

reblogs + feedback always appreciated !!

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚

Being in the boxing ring felt natural to him, but to you, it just felt as if you were praying for Heeseung to be alright every time he fought someone bigger than him. You didn't worry too much as you knew how talented he was and how he managed to beat people who mocked him for him size. Seeing someone fall to the ground never felt this relieving. You rushed up and enveloped his face in between your palms as you pressed a kiss to his lips for his victory. "Worried? For me?" He asks when you both are on your way home. "Yeah, what if you got really hurt?" You said, fidgeting with your thumbs, avoiding his gaze. "I'll be alright, yeah? I wouldn't want to worry you." Heeseung takes your hand in his.

(rest of the memebers below the cut)

𝗣����𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚

always worried what you thought of him doing this sport. He knew the dangers of this sport, and he knew that he could get injured really badly, but something always pushed him to continue. Maybe it was the adrenaline rush. During matches, he'd always contemplate if he should quit or not after seeing other boxers bleed from their noses while being knocked out. That anxiousness quickly disperse as he sees you in the crowd, jumping and cheering his name. He puts on a smile for you. Some time later, Jay asked, "what do you think of me doing boxing?" You take a moment to think before answering, "I'm really happy that you're doing something you like, and I'll always support you." You reassure with a kiss to his cheek.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡

He adores the comforting speeches you give him before each match. How they always manage to calm him down when his nerves were playing a trick on him. "baby, I'm nervous." Jake says, his hands clutching to your side, not wanting to part from your closeness while his coach is urging him to hurry up. "Why are you so stressed, Jakey? We both know how awsome you'll be. Just go and do what you love." You say, slowly walking towards the ring so that he can jump in. Jake sighs and hums at your words. "You'll be watching, right?" He asks, his puppy eyes gleaming under the bright stadium lights. "Of course." You say, patting his back before you shoo him inside.

𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙆 𝙎𝙐𝙉𝙂𝙃𝙊𝙊𝙉

Sunghoon loves showing you off to everyone just as much as you love cheering him on. Post-match, you'd be the first person he'd run over to as the cameras pan over to the couple. He doesn't care about what anyone says or sees, and instead he presses his lips to your face over and over again making sure that the camera and audience does not miss his love for you. Sunghoon is a firm believer that your love is worth more than any prize he'll ever win in his boxing career. After each match he'd win, the internet would be flooded by news making headlines of you and him, which always managed to put a smile on your face.

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢

Sunoo didn't brag about his wins, even though he had a swelling ego, he was humble. Before each match, he'd wrap his arms around you, his head snuggled against your shoulder as you pat his back, urging him to let go and get ready for the fight, "Sunsun, it's time to go now." He doesn't let go and you just sigh. "Promise me that we'll go on a date later." He compromises, and you easily agree to it, because it's a date? While in the ring, you cheer the loudest, and he hears you since you're standing in the first row, but when the match is over and he is the clear winner, he doesn't hesitate to shoot you a quick wink.

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡

You loved watching him combat his friends during practice, but when it was time for the competition, you were starting to feel a bit anxious - your heart beating like a drum against your chest. You whisper a soft "good luck," before he gives you a bright smile and climed into the fighting arena. You watched with dread filling you up, and all you cared for was his safety. Seeing him get hit, you jump out of your seat with your palms hovering over your agape mouth that opened due to shock. You try to reassure yourself that he'd be okay, and luckily he was. "You really gave me a scare!" You lightly hit his shoulder, and he just pulled you against his chest.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜

You honestly didn't worry too much about him when he fought. Riki is a strong person, both physically and mentally. While he speaks to his coach during break time, Riki wraps one arm around your shoulders lazily as he leans his body against yours. You can hear his short breaths due to exhaustion, but you don't pull away, even though he is sweating. With a nod, there is little time left to spend and he presses a kiss to your head before he rushes back inside. When he wins, he runs over to you with a bright smile as cameras are aimed at him. One interviewer shouts, "What do you think of the prize you're winning." "What do you mean? I've got her right here!" He shouts back as he motions to you.

TAGLIST : @dollyhoon @itjengirl @saeivra @orimuraa @pshwrldd

[iimplicitt]

OFF TO THE RACES | LN4

parings: lando x cowgirl unnamed fem! character (faceclaim bella hadid)

summary: the mclaren team gets taken to a rodeo ahead of the austin grand prix. lando takes the saying; “save a horse, ride a cowboy” a little too literally. let’s take Jesus off the dashboard, he’s got enough on his mind.

warnings: 18+ smut!!, car sex (it’s crime don’t do it), unprotected p in v (also don’t do this), one night stand, lando in a cowboy hat, hickeys, spitting, praise, size kink? kind of, lando has a thing for making her cry (in a good way), social media posts towards the end

wc: 3.8k

a/n: i’m a born and raised texan so don’t come for me with the stereotypes in this LET ME DREAM

Sweat coated his skin as they walked, the road cracked and uneven as they made their way up to the exposition center turned rodeo. It was Zak’s idea, a bonding experience he said for Lando and Oscar even though that was completely unnecessary. They probably spent too much time together as is.

Their boss smiled at them, already sun burnt a bit as they got closer and closer to the blaring country music. “You can’t get a more American experience than this!”

Lando and Oscar looked at each other for a moment before shaking their heads, smiling despite how ridiculous this all seemed. Lando had no interest in watching animals run around in dirt while shitty music blared through speakers all the while someone’s beer might be spilling on him. Then again, maybe he was being cynical and the South was about to be full of surprises.

The whole venue was crowded, making it seem even hotter despite the setting Texas sun. There was a carnival going on as well, a good chunk of people still running around playing games or going on rides. The other half were pouring through the large open doors, the Mclaren Formula One team being a part of it.

It was loud, the metal ceiling and walls echoing the sound of music and people talking and shouting. It was lively, he could admit that. Maybe it would even be fun drunk, but that was a big no go in regard to the rule book of a race weekend.

Someone met them near the entrance, a man who clearly worked with the venue based on the obvious cowboy get up he had on. Boots, hat, the whole thing. Zak did most of the talking while Lando and Oscar looked around curiously, watching as people bustled about and waving at those who recognized them.

Eventually they were led to a section close to the floor, front row seats to all the action. Neither driver really knew what to expect, but the very last thing Lando was anticipating was seeing the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on riding out on horseback.

He was awestruck immediately, his eyes not leaving her as she made her way around the perimeter, smiling and waving as she went. Fuck, she was stunning. Her skin was tan and glowing, her grin bright and brown hair tucked loosely under a cowboy hat. He felt his heart skip a beat as she got closer and closer to where he was sitting, and Lando became acutely aware of himself as he leaned his elbows against the railing. Hoping he didn’t look like a dumbass and for once hoping he didn’t look too British.

Would she even be interested in an Englishman? The thoughts running through his head were ridiculous but everything seemed to go mute as she passed right by him. Tipping her hat down and sending him a wink before the horse continued on its path.

“Careful mate, I think you’re drooling.” Oscar laughed from next to him, nudging him knowingly.

“Shut up, Osc.” Lando barely spared his teammate a glance before he tracked his gaze back to her. Watching in awe as she did whatever the hell she was doing, maneuvering the horse expertly around obstacles, dirt kicking up around her but her face didn’t give anything away but pure determination and focus. He’d never seen anything so graceful.

The rest of the night he kept an eye on her whenever he was able to, his gaze flicking up to the big screen to catch her name anytime she was shown on camera. When she laughed at something her friend said, her head thrown back and eyes crinkling, he thought the earth was opening up underneath him with the desperation to hear the sound of it.

When the rodeo was over, Oscar just about had to drag him away from the railing to get him to leave. “I’m sure this is how your fans feel,” the Australian joked, not at all bothered by the glare Lando was throwing his way.

“I’m not her fan. Merely an admirer.”

“And I'm sure that’s the mindset all your fans have. Besides,” he gestured to where a decently large group of men were waiting near the exit at the back of the expo center shouting her name. “Seems she already has groupies.”

Lando ticked his jaw, not seeing how waiting around would help them at all. He didn’t want to pull the I’m an F1 driver card because then he’d come off like a complete arse. So, cutting his losses he followed everyone else and headed into downtown Austin to find a bar to attend.

Not that he saw the point given; no drinking.

The music was even louder in the bar that was also combined with that he knew very little about like line dancing. Mulling over his water as he scrolled through his phone, he hesitated for a moment before typing her name into instagram.

“Christ,” he muttered. Every time he saw her she seemed to get prettier.

He debated on following her but he knew someone somewhere would take notice and spin it into something it’s not. Even if he wished there was something to blow out of proportion.

Someone bumped his arm and his thumb hit the follow button.

Lando blinked at his phone for a moment, watching her follow count tick up by one and he squeezed his eyes shut. Letting out a sigh he shoved his phone back in his pocket, no point in undoing that hiccup given she’d see the notification. Some small part of himself, or maybe a larger portion, wanted her to take notice. Take an interest, and maybe follow him back. Hell, he’d beg the universe for a DM if he had to.

Oscar appeared and gestured with a hand, smiling as if he knew something. “Look who it is.”

Following his friend’s gaze, Lando looked around before his eyes fell on what Oscar was looking so fucking smug about.

There she was, barely twenty feet away and leaning against the bar. Her smile was contagious as she talked with her friends animatedly with her hands.

“Go and talk to her.”

Lando spun around, looking at Oscar as if he just suggested he commit suicide. “What?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Since when are you nervous when it comes to girls? Just go and say hi.”

“I’ll look like a stalker who followed her here from the rodeo.”

“Right, like she even remembers seeing you.”

Lando's hands went to cover his heart, his features warped into offense. “Ouch, Osc. Low blow.”

The Aussie was hearing none of it as he lightly took hold of Lando’s hoodie and shoved him in her direction. “Thank me later.”

His annoyance wasn’t all that genuine, in fact he was thankful for the shove of encouragement as he made his way over to her. Fuck, was his hair alright? Did he smell bad? He’d been sweating all day. He hadn’t even talked to her yet and she had his mind reverting back into his insecure teenage self.

She caught his eye before he was too close, recognition flashing briefly across her face as her friends continued to talk. Her smile slipped into something more sultry- more knowing. Like she knew exactly why he was here. He wouldn’t be surprised if she got approached a lot, she was stunning.

He came to a stop, her friends' voices slowly fading into silence as they all looked at him. The air tense and a bit awkward but he forced a casual laugh. “Hi.”

Was that really all he had?

She bit her bottom lip, clearly amused by him before he was finally graced by the sound of her voice. “Howdy.”

Even that was heavenly.

“Do people here really say that?” Stupid non flirtatious things were pouring out of his mouth.

Her and her friends laughed, looking at him as if he was a court jester and he wanted to punch Oscar next time he saw him.

“Do you really say cheerio?”

This time he laughed, feeling more relaxed and he shook his head. “No, I don’t at least.”

Her pale green eyes slated to her friends for a moment, something silent passing between them and before he knew it they were alone. She gestured her head for him to come and stand beside her and Lando obliged like a lovesick puppy.

She leaned in close, the smell of her perfume mixed with polished leather was addictive and he wanted to bottle up the scent and keep it forever. “For the record,” she began, her accent light but noticeable. “I do say howdy as a greeting.”

He grinned at her, leaning down to match the level of her gaze and her slight whisper. “It’s cute.”

Her eyes flicked over his face, taking in his features and for the briefest moment her gaze danced over his lips. Making him feel dizzy and he wondered what the woman was doing to him.

She leaned back slightly and took a sip of her drink. “I saw you at the rodeo earlier.”

“I’m glad I’m memorable.”

“You’re hard to miss. You don’t exactly scream you’re from the south. Especially wearing this when it’s almost a hundred out.” She tugged lightly at the string of his hoodie, her lips pulled back in a playful smile and he wished he could just grab her and kiss her. The thought was overwhelming but he had to remind himself not to be an absolute creep.

“Well, it seems the stars are aligning then. I was hoping I’d get to run into you at some point.”

“You sure you didn’t stalk me Mr. Norris?”

He blinked at her. “You know who I am?”

Her cheeks were dusted a rosy pink as she waved her phone at him, his instagram page glowing at him and he shut his eyes. “That was an accident and a coincidence that you happened to be here.”

“Aw, and here I was being flattered.” She scrolled through his page, a giggle leaving her as she came across a picture of him in the ocean with mud all over his face and wearing a pair of sunglasses.

“No, don’t look-“ he tried to cover her screen with his hand but she took hold of his wrist and playfully shoved him away.

“This is golden.” She laughed. “This is what millionaires get up to?”

“You’re looking at all the wrong pictures.” He tried to reason, surely blushing as he made to cover her phone again and she pushed him away, this time with her hip and he felt his mind slip into a numbness that craved her touch again. She was pressed against him now, laughing for another moment before she eventually followed him back.

Her back pressed against his chest, turning to look at him over her shoulder and flashing the screen at him. “There.”

He looked down at her and completely ignored the phone, one hand falling to her waist absentmindedly as his other arm kept him upright against the counter of the bar. Her face was so close and he took in every minute detail. The way her skin glowed, dusted with a faint blush. Her nose was adorable and long lashes fanned out over her glowing eyes.

She was breathtaking.

The feeling of pure want coursed through every nerve in his body, acutely aware of the pressure of her against him. Her jeans tight around her hips and thighs before beginning to flare out and her top was snug fitting and complimented her wonderfully.

His grip on her waist tightened and he heard her breath hitch as she blinked up at him, her pupils blown wide and the smile that stretched his lips was anything but innocent.

Lando had her.

They barely made it into the back seat of her truck before his mouth was colliding with hers in a way that was almost violent as they fell back onto the seats. Lando settled himself between her legs, grinding against her in a way that was shattering his sanity second by second.

Her nails raked up from his neck and into his hair, a groan escaping him and being swallowed up by her mouth. She tasted sweet and had the faint taste of whiskey on her tongue, utterly maddening and he would never get enough of it.

“Take this damn thing off,” she managed to say between bites and kisses, tugging impatiently at his hoodie.

He smiled into the kiss, his hands blindly taking hold of the hem of the fabric before breaking away for a moment to rip it over his head. The truck was a bit cramped but he’d make it work, his mind was consumed by her at the moment and he wanted this to last for an eternity.

Her nails dragged down his body, letting out a content sigh as she took in the sight of his tanned skin and muscle, her fingers hooking into the belt loops of his trousers and the way she looked up at him would’ve been enough to send him over the edge. The sight was heavenly and the innocent look to her in that moment as her brown hair fanned out around her like a nimbus was devastating.

Lando reached forward and took hold of her cowboy hat that had gotten knocked off and placed it on his head, sending her a wink.

When a mewling sound left the back of her throat he raised a brow at her and he felt his cock get impossibly harder. Lando smiled down at her knowingly as he began to undo his belt. “Is this really doing it for you, darling?”

Her eyes nearly looked black with desire as her gaze trailed up from what his hands were doing to his face. “You have no fucking idea.”

He tugged his belt off and tossed it to the side, but before he worked on undressing himself further his fingers danced out and began undoing each button of her too tight shirt. Her breasts had already been tugging at the seams so when he popped one open they practically spilled out for him. No bra and on display and the sound that left him felt primal.

Lando needed her. All of her. Everywhere and every second of the day. If he could have her the way he wanted as he pleased he even considered fucking her in the middle of the paddock if she let him.

His fingers trailed down further and made easy work of her belt and zipper before he leaned back and took hold of each of her legs to rest them on his shoulders. “Lift up for me, baby.”

She didn’t hesitate as she lifted her hips for him and the immediate submissiveness made his mind melt into a puddle of pure desire. He tugged her boots off and then her jeans, and when the sight of her lacy white underwear graced his vision he suddenly wished they would’ve had the patience to get to the hotel.

“Fuck, I bet you taste incredible.”

But there was simply no room. He half debated on saying fuck it and bring her to the bed of the truck so he could ruin her in every way he was dreaming about, but that would probably lead to an arrest and a very unhappy meeting with the team and stewards.

“Please.” Her tone was needy, desperate even as she lifted her hips to him in an attempt to get her closer. There was already a damp spot appearing and Lando wanted to take her away and keep her to himself for the rest of his life.

“Where have you been all my life?” He sighed, his fingers dancing down her thighs and delighting in the way she trembled against his touch. “Tell me what you need.”

She bit her lip so hard he thought it might bleed and his hands dug into the soft flesh of her thighs, earning himself a moan from the back of her throat. “Use your words, baby. I need to hear you.”

“Fuck me, please.” She yanked his hips flush against hers by his belt loops. “And please lord, keep that hat on.”

His grin was wicked as he leaned down to capture her lips again, open mouthed and sloppy. His tongue dancing against hers and exploring, teeth clinking together as he pulled himself out from his trousers and used his other hand to tug her underwear to the side.

Lando never skipped foreplay but he was desperate and so was she. Not to mention she was practically dripping already and when the tip of his cock rubbed against her entrance and clit he shuddered as she let out a gasp, her nails digging into his back.

“You’re so fucking wet for me, darling.”

“Please,” she choked out, pulling him even closer by the back of his neck and kissing him.

When Lando sank into her till his hips were flush against hers he knew he finally found salvation. Purpose is what it felt like. The missing part of his life that he hadn’t even been aware of but now made him whole. He groaned into her mouth, matching her moan.

She was so warm and tight, the muscles of her cunt clenching around him. “You take me so well,” he ground out as he pulled his hips back and watched as he sunk back into her pussy slowly. The sight was other worldly. He wanted to film it but he was now determined that this would not be the last time he had his way with her.

She grinded her hips against him, matching his agonizingly slow rhythm and trying to get more. More satisfaction and he laughed at her desperation before burying his face in her neck, sucking and biting as he continued the slow pace.

“Lando, harder.” She gasped out, clutching at his shoulder with one hand while her other twined in the curly hair at the nape of his neck that was peaking out from under the cowboy hat.

He pulled back, teeth tugging at her skin before he released it with a pop. He got a little carried away, a hickey on her neck already forming but he couldn’t find himself to care as he got lost in the sensation of her cunt around his cock. She was perfectly made for him.

His hands pressed into the seat on either side of her head. “Open.” His tone was sharp and her lips parted immediately at the command. He smiled as he let saliva drip from his tongue and into her mouth, not giving her a moment to get a grip on reality before he then spit on her at the exact same time he pulled his hips back and snapped them hardly forward, burying his cock even deeper inside her.

She let out a cry, pleasure mixing with pain as he brushed against her cervix before pulling back and dragging against her g-spot, only to repeat the process over and over again. Bending her knees up so he could get a better angle, his thrusts brutal and being driven mad by the sound of his name being cried from her lips.

“So fucking gorgeous,” he said through heavy pants, watching her unravel beneath him and when his eyes caught sight on her naval the sound that left him didn’t even sound like himself.

Lando could see the outline of his cock as he fucked her, her smaller and skinnier size making it easier. “Oh fuck, you’re gonna kill me, baby. Look at you.” He pressed a hand gently to her stomach, feeling himself thrust in and out.

She bucked against him at the added sensation, tears streaming from her eyes and leaving pretty trails of mascara down her cheeks.

“Lando, oh my god—“ a scream left her as his other hand began rubbing tight circles into her clit. “I’m gonna—“

“Do you want to come on my cock, darling?”

She nodded, words lost on her and Lando knew he was on the verge of crashing as well. Feeling each of his nerves winding tightly. “Why don’t we come together, can you do that for me?”

“Yes, yes, yes. Please.”

“Such a good girl,” he praised, his tone soft. A complete antithesis to the almost violent pace of his cock slamming into her.

He switched the direction of his fingers on her clit. “Now, darling.”

Not a moment later she was convulsing against him, her cunt clamping down in his cock and Lando groaned out her name as he threw his head back, his cum filling her up nicely as the muscles in his stomach clenched. Sweat was coating both their bodies, all the windows completely fogged up and he felt delirious as he collapsed on top of her, settling comfortably between her hips and still buried inside of her.

He could both feel and hear her rapid heart beat, her warm breath coating the side of his neck as she buried her face in the crook of his shoulder.

“God, I love the English,” she muttered breathlessly against him and he laughed, loving the way she fit so snugly against him.

“And I’m in love with this form of southern hospitality.”

She snorted, the sound heartbreakingly adorable and he never wanted to let go of her. “All I said to you was howdy.”

He turned his face to hers, pressing a kiss against her forehead. “Say y’all.”

She raised a brow at him but complied. “Y’all?”

He groaned and kissed her through her laughter. “I’m done for.”

Eventually, and not with any thrill, he had to pull out of her and she shivered as he did so. Picking up his discarded hoodie from the floor, he gestured for her to sit up. “Lift your arms,” his voice was soft and his heart clenched as she smiled at him, doing as told.

He didn’t know what was wrong with him but he felt like he was struck by cupid’s arrow or something. Lando didn’t want this night to end and he wanted to see her tomorrow. And the next day, and the next. He wanted her by his side till he was rotting away in the earth.

He needed to thank Oscar next time he saw him.

Slipping the hoodie on her, he brushed the hair out of her eyes and dusted his thumbs over her cheekbones as he cradled her face. The air was quiet but not tense, a comfortable silence and he sighed slightly through his nose.

“What?” She asked, her brows furrowed and her smile timid. A bit shy despite the events that just unfolded.

“Would it be mental to ask you to come to the race this weekend?”

His eyes caught her tongue as it darted out to wet her lips, which were slowly forming into a grin. “I would love to, but I don’t know anything about it.”

He shrugged, pulling her in gently by hooking a finger into the collar of his hoodie she was wearing. “Just cheer for car number four and I’ll be on top of the world.”

She bit her lip, eyes searching his before she nodded. “Okay, but I want to do something for you.”

“You don’t need to—“

“It’ll be fun.” She reached her hands up and straightened the cowboy hat on his head. “Besides I haven’t seen enough of you dressed like this yet.”

landonorris

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landonorris am i doing this right?

photo creds and tour of austin courtesy of youruser

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userone: THIS IS EVERYTHING

youruser: you are definitely doing this right

landonorris: taught by the best

oscarpiastri: i’m still waiting on a thank you

landonorris: shut up

usertwo: i need to know the tea

userthree: AND WHOS THE GIRL???

f1wags

liked by 56,029 others

f1wags oh? who’s this? potentially a new wag spotted in the paddock this weekend at the usgp and rooting for lando norris!! some sources say they were seen together afterward, but nothing is set in stone yet! pictured is; youruser

*tap to load more comments*

userone: OH MY GOD THEY WOULD LOOK SO GOOD TOGETHER

usertwo: right?? i hope it’s true

userthree: lando dating a cowgirl is not something i knew i needed

userfour: ew? really? not an american LMAO

userfive: she’s literally stunning what do you mean

usersix: the way she was screaming and cheering for him has me SOBBING she already seems so supportive

userseven: everyone needs to chill we don’t even know if they’re together, just because they follow one another doesn’t mean anything

usereight: you must be fun at parties

youruser

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, lilyzneimer, iamrebeccad and 67, 892 others

youruser south side of heaven

*tap to load more comments*

userone: PLS TELL ME THATS LANDO

usertwo: oh my god?? all the wags liking it???

userthree: CHAT PLS I NEED HER AND LANDO TO BE REAL

userfour: he’s been seen in texas NUMEROUS times over the break istg i think they are dating

landonorris and youruser

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 702,299 others

landonorris happy birthday pretty girl

*tap to load more comments*

userone: oh. my. GOD

usertwo: I KNEW IT

carlossainz55: the black and white made me think she had passed

youruser: i thought i missed my own funeral

landonorris: i hate you both

userthree: IM LOSING MY MIND WKSKSJW

userfour: he looks so happy IM SOBBING

taglist: @theonottsbxtch @fortunapre @ashbone @c8lap1nto @taasgirl @stopeatread @dying-inside-but-its-classy

[rin-may-1103]

The Master Post.

Please actually read this, I can't keep up with all the comments. 🥲

Tag List? Yes, there is a tag list. If you'd like to be ADDED, please leave a comment on the Stories Linked Post or the Tag List Post. If the tags aren't working for some reason, you can either Follow this post by clicking the bell (or the three dots) or follow the Story's Linked Post the same way. I'll update both Relevant Posts when there is a New Part.

Yes, I have an Ao3. It's under the same user name, just with (_) instead of (-). Most of my works are locked due to personal preference, so you'll need an account if you want to read most of them.

I hope y'all keep enjoying the stories as much as I enjoy writing them.

(currently dealing with life, so posts are going to be very, very slow, sorry.)

Stories and Summaries:

The Wrong Robin Au (DP x DC):

Tim Drake saw Danny do a quadruple somersault, which resulted in him believing Danny was the first Robin for years. He still figured out Bruce but thinks Dick is in the dark. Now with the second Robin dead, and Batman quickly reaching the end of his sanity, Tim takes it upon himself to get Robin to come back. Danny is very confused when this random kid tries to blackmail him into becoming Robin.

Badger Day Au (DP x DC):

Danny is stuck in a Groundhog Day kinda situation and he would like to be let out now, please. The league is very worried.

Delilah's language (DP x DC):

Bruce Wayne approaches the Fentons because Damian is a big fan of Danny for his work in the conservation of the purpleback gorilla. So now Danny is going to the birthday of this random kid so he can teach him gorilla sign language so he can talk to the purple-back gorilla as well.

Just a Bite (DP x DC):

Danny's homeless on the streets of Gotham, when he gets a terrible idea from some passerby. Three weeks after living with the Waynes, they still haven't noticed he's not supposed to be there.

72 hours (DP x DC):

During a battle with the rest of the league, John Constantine is accidentally sent into the palace of Pariah Dark, Tyrant of the Dead, and Bane of the Living. Danny just wanted to have a simple spa day.

Biggest Regret (DP x DC):

Danny Had been optimistic when he created The Email. Three days, that's what he gave himself. Three days to fix or get out of whatever problem he was dealing with and open his laptop to restart the timer. Three days. Past him had thought that If he ever got caught they'd just kill him; it's what they said they would do this whole time, so why wouldn't he think otherwise? It's been more than three days, and at this point, he's just glad someone could fulfill his last wish.

The Disappointment (DP x DC):

Ra's has stated his disapproval of one of the twins, now Talia is rushing to get them out of there and to Bruce to be safe. Danny has other ideas.

Black Retrievers and Golden Cats (DP x DC):

He remembered how it took two hours for his mind to catch up to what he had done, two hours for him to realize he had just killed his brother. It took another two days to realize his brother was never coming back, that the pits had not worked. Damian stared at the camera footage infront of him, his family's voices buzzing with theories and analyzing everything they could. He remembered his brother's bright carefree smile just minutes before Damian had killed him. So, why? Why was he seeing it again?

College Rivalry with the Genius Toddler in the First Row. (DP X DC):

Tim doesn't understand how he's losing at university to a toddler. Danny's not having a great time, but it's fine because now he can terrorize Red Robin.

The Willpower of Space (DP X DC):

A faulty green lantern ring wakes from it's accidental eon long sleep due to how powerful Danny's willpower is. It decides that Danny is a worthy wielder and grants Danny the ability to use it. There's just one problem; Danny keeps dying. and the ring doesn't understand what's going on. Oa is very concerned.

The Weeping Boy Au (DP X DC):

Opening a portal to a dimension between dimensions always leads to some sort of accident; for instance, Danny's death. It just so happens that at the exact moment the portal opened, his earth and another had overlapped, leaving his death to loop repeatedly in the other for as long as the portal stayed. This wouldn't be a problem if it weren't for the fact that Danny just accidentally turned the portal off and is now in the other dimension instead of the zone. (The Batfamily, who have been watching this kid die over and over again, are very concerned.)

The Eyes of Death Au (DP X DC):

In an attempt to prevent a cult from causing problems, Danny accidentally convinces the Justice League and Co. that he's possessing himself. Damian is not happy that his boyfriend is apparently the new June Moone.

Aspiring escape artist (DP X DC):

The new foster kid might be a little more traumatized than the other kids they usually take in for a while, but it's not like they can't handle it. That is, until Danny started sneaking out, past the bat-grade security system, without getting caught and without using his powers.

Through Your Eyes (DP X DC):

Sometimes, soulmates randomly switch bodies. It doesn't always happen; in fact, it's actually more common to not switch. Danny hadn't really thought he'd ever switch, doubly so after his accident. So you can imagine his surprise when not only does he switch, but he switches with Damian Wayne, aka Robin.

Cabin 18 and the Missing Kids (DP X DC):

Vlad is planning something, unfortunately, Danny's stuck at camp and can't sneak away. But maybe that's ok, because what's this about missing kids? And who does his roommates think they are fooling with their 'normal' kid acts? They're obviously vigilantes. And hey, maybe Danny might actually get a break for once, it's not like his parents can't defend themselves.

Turn back the Frozen Sands of Time (DP X DC):

Danny wakes up in his nine-year-old body; no memories of how he got here or why. All he knows is he needs to stick to the timeline, figure out what happened, and fix it. So, why did his mother just merc his grandfather, and why are there a group of vigilantes (who, for all intents and purposes, shouldn't exist as a team yet) yelling at her and his brother?

Perks of Being Half Dead (DP X SPN):

It was too dangerous for Danny to go back; he doubted it would ever be safe again, not after what they did to him. But it wasn't as if he had a choice at the moment anyway; the likelihood of his getting home from this new dimension was looking slim to none. And now he's being mistaken for some hunter's kid, what the hell, Clockwork?

[demie90s]

Girlll you gonna get so tired of me but can you do platonic geno with menace reader?? Like more on their dynamic?

(I COULD NEVER GET TIRED OF YOU‼️)

Coach, I Swear It Was an Accident (It Wasn’t)

ᴘʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ ɢᴇɴᴏ ᴀᴜʀɪᴇᴍᴍᴀ x ᴍᴇɴᴀᴄᴇ!ꜰᴇᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

MASTERLIST | MORE

Summary: You’ve been testing Geno’s patience since the moment you stepped on UConn’s campus. You’re talented, unbothered, and just enough of a smartass to keep your scholarship hanging by a thread. But deep down, you’re his favorite headache.

Vibe: Whistle slams, eye rolls, chaotic love, and the emotional damage of saying “you’re like my kid” with his whole chest

No one stresses Geno out like you.

And no one lives for it like you do.

You’ve been on thin ice since the first time you called a press conference “ghetto fabulous” under your breath while mic’d up. Geno almost choked on his coffee. Azzi fell off the bench. Paige had to cover her face to keep from laughing.

“Did you really just say that into an NCAA broadcast feed?” Geno asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.

You shrugged. “It was.”

He turned red. “You are going to ruin me.”

“I’m not the one who approved these chairs,” you replied, sitting in one like you were posing for Vogue and not a ranked post-game Q&A.

From that day on, you were his #1 problem child. But God, he’d go to war for you.

⸻

He yells at you the most. Because you deserve it.

“You think that behind-the-back pass was smart?” he snaps during practice.

“I thought it was flavorful,” you say, wiping sweat from your face.

“Flavorful?” he repeats. “You are one tech away from me throwing you out of the building.”

“Cool, I’ll just Uber to my NIL shoot.” He throws his clipboard. You wink.

⸻

But it’s not all jokes. Sometimes you check on him when nobody else does.

You bring him an iced coffee before early practices. Put ibuprofen next to his water when he rubs his temples too long. You sit in his office when you’re having a bad day, head down, quiet for once.

He doesn’t say much. Just passes you a protein bar and keeps typing. That’s how y’all say I love you. In chaos and quiet.

⸻

And even when he’s mad, furious, pacing the sideline and yelling your name after a steal you didn’t convert or a stunt you weren’t supposed to pull?

He still defends you to everyone else.

“Yeah, she’s a pain in my ass,” he tells reporters. “But she’s my pain in the ass.”

Bonus:

You Benched Me. I took it personal.

Okay… maybe not messed up. But you definitely pulled a fast break reverse layup, stared down the girl you just scored on, and said, “I thought y’all were ranked?”

Geno yanked you off the court so fast your sneakers squeaked.

“You’re done,” he snapped, waving you toward the bench. “SIT.”

You threw your hands up like you didn’t understand why you, of all people, were getting benched.

“Coach, come on—”

“No. Sit down before I sit you in the parking lot.”

You flopped into the seat next to KK like you’d just been hit with war crimes. She was biting her lip, trying not to laugh.

Azzi looked at you with the world’s deepest sigh. Paige was already reaching over with a towel and a muttered “You really can’t help yourself, huh?”

⸻

You were petty the whole time.

Refused to make eye contact with Geno. Didn’t speak during timeouts. Sat with your arms crossed like someone grounded you from your phone.

Even when the team got hype, you clapped in slow motion with a deadpan expression like a robot being forced to show spirit.

You deserved that benching. But you weren’t gonna act like it.

⸻

Third quarter, two turnovers in a row, Geno’s eye twitched.

“Get in,” he finally muttered, not looking at you.

You stood up so slow.

“Oh, I’m allowed to play again?” you said, stretching dramatically.

“Reader,” he growled. “Don’t.”

You walked past him with the fakest smile ever. “Love you, Coach.”

“Drop 10 or don’t come back.”

You dropped 26.

⸻

Reverse layup. Stepback three. Full-court pass with your off-hand.

You lit the gym up like it was personal. Because it was.

And after you hit the last three and jogged back on defense, you looked over at Geno and mouthed, “Still wanna bench me?”

He didn’t smile. But you saw him shake his head and mutter, “Unbelievable.”

⸻

After the game, while media swarmed Azzi and Paige, you walked past Geno in the tunnel, pretending to look at your nails.

He cleared his throat. You turned slowly.

“…Good job,” he said under his breath, like it physically hurt him.

You gasped, hand to your chest. “Wait—what was that? I blacked out.”

“Don’t push it.”

“I’m framing that.”

He rolled his eyes. “I should’ve gone into real estate.”

You slung your arm over his shoulder and whispered, “Nah. Then you never would’ve met your favorite problem.”

He groaned. But he didn’t push you off.

[alohajix]

𝐒𝐡𝐡𝐡… 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲’𝐥𝐥 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐔𝐬

Description: I wasn’t supposed to be here again. He wasn’t supposed to notice. But when Harry pulls me onto his tour bus after the show, things get filthy fast—and staying quiet is the one thing he can’t do.

Warnings: explicit sexual content, semi-public sex, power imbalance, oral (f. & m. receiving), praise kink, spit kink, hair pulling, chocking, dirty talk, slight degradation & risk of being overheard. Readers +18.

Words count: 4.4K

author note: okay so… this wasn’t supposed to be posted until thursday, but i got an unexpected day off today and couldn’t resist finishing it early ♡ this one-shot is based on a request (which was such a fun idea to play with), but i’ll be honest—i definitely struggled trying to make it feel just right ✨ still, i’m really happy with how it turned out and i hope you love it as much as harry loves being loud on that tour bus…

also!! if you ever have a request, don’t be shy—my inbox is always open ♡ i love writing about everything and anything, so hit me up whenever your brain is full of chaos and ideas

enjoy the filth, angels ☆彡

*****

I told myself this was the last one. No more spontaneous flight bookings. No more overpriced tickets. No more chasing cities just to stand front row and pretend it was a coincidence that he always looked my way.

But here I was—again. Pressed against the barricade, surrounded by screaming fans, heart pounding hard enough to shake my ribs. I could already feel the bass thrumming through the floor, could smell the mix of fog and stadium air. And when the lights dropped, my entire body lit up like it knew he was near. The roar was deafening when he walked out. Curls wild. Shirt unbuttoned just enough to tease. Smile lazy, like he had all the time in the world. He waved to the crowd, took the mic, and scanned the sea of faces with practiced ease.

And then he saw me. I knew the exact second it happened. His eyes found mine and held. Not a quick pass. Not a maybe. A beat. Then two. Long enough to feel the air catch in my lungs. Long enough for my hands to tremble where they gripped the rail. He didn’t smile. Not right away. Just tilted his head slightly, like he was trying to figure me out. Like he remembered. Then, as the intro to Love Of My Life started, he looked away—just barely—and smirked. I felt it in my knees.

The rest of the show blurred, but not the way it usually did. My body moved on instinct—singing, swaying, screaming when everyone else did—but my head? It was back in that moment. That glance. That smirk. That impossible possibility that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t just looking through me like every other night. And by the time the last song faded, my throat was raw and my chest felt like it had been cracked open.

The lights came up. People started to file out. But I stood there, frozen, gripping the barricade like it might disappear. I didn’t even notice the staffer until he was standing beside me, subtle in black with a headset tucked behind his ear.

“You’re Y/N, right?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

My mouth barely moved. “Yeah.”

He glanced around, voice low. “Would you like to come backstage?”

My heart thudded. “Wait—seriously?”

“He asked for you.”

The walk backstage felt unreal. Like I wasn’t in my own body. The halls were dim, the walls pulsing faintly with the echo of music still vibrating through the venue. Other fans walked beside me—maybe ten of us in total—all chatting and laughing and smoothing their hair in their phone cameras. But I couldn’t join in. I couldn’t even think straight. Because if this was what I thought it was… If he really asked for me… Then none of this was just in my head.

He walked into the room like the encore never ended. Still glowing from the stage, hair messier now, shirt hanging open over his chest, towel slung across his shoulders. He looked wrecked in the most beautiful way—like he hadn’t had time to come down from the high of performing, like he’d stepped off stage and walked straight into this moment.

His gaze swept over the group, casual… until he saw me. And then it wasn’t casual at all. He stopped. His smile twitched into something warmer, softer. Something only for me.

“Hi, love,” he said, voice low and gravelly. “You made it.”

Every cell in my body flipped. He moved closer, hugging the fan beside me quickly, then stepped into my space like he belonged there. He didn’t even hesitate. His arms wrapped around my waist—firm, warm, way too sure. And when I hugged him back, my fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt without meaning to. His scent hit me hard: sweat, cologne, something faintly sweet. Familiar. Overwhelming.

He didn’t let go right away. I felt his breath against my ear when he leaned in for the photo. Felt the slight press of his chest against mine.

“Didn’t think I’d see you again,” he murmured. “But I’m glad I did.” My heart stuttered.

He pulled back slowly, hand lingering against the small of my back. His eyes flicked down to my lips—so fast I almost missed it—and then met mine again, steady and full of things I couldn’t even begin to name.

“You look good tonight,” he said simply.

I didn’t even remember smiling for the photo. I don’t think I blinked the entire time he stood next to me. And when he moved away, I felt cold.

They ushered us out a few minutes later, gently guiding everyone toward the exit. The group chattered happily, already buzzing about social media captions and edits and which pose Harry used with who. But I wasn’t paying attention. Because just before I reached the hall, a hand caught my wrist.

“Wait.” I turned—and it was the same staffer from earlier. His voice dropped to a near whisper. “Don’t leave with the rest.”

My pulse skipped. “What?”

“He said he wanted to see you. Properly.” I blinked. “Come with me.”

I followed him through the back halls like I wasn’t entirely sure I was awake. The venue had mostly emptied. The muffled chatter of crew echoed in the distance, paired with the dull thump of gear being loaded into trucks. But the further we walked, the quieter it got. The kind of quiet that made my pulse echo in my ears.

The staffer didn’t say much—just kept a steady pace and glanced over his shoulder once or twice, like he was making sure I hadn’t run. Believe me, I’d thought about it. Whatever this was, whatever was happening, it couldn’t be real. Couldn’t be him. But I didn’t stop walking. He led me through a gate, past a few trailers, and toward the tour buses parked side by side under flickering lot lights. The biggest one sat tucked behind a row of gear crates, its door slightly open. The inside glowed low and golden through the tinted window. He paused just before it, turned toward me, and gave me a look that made my stomach flip.

“Wait here. He’s just finishing up.” I nodded, unsure my voice would come out right.

He stepped onto the bus and shut the door behind him. The silence that followed was too much. I folded my arms to keep them from shaking, looked down at my shoes, tried to steady my breathing. Every second stretched. I could still feel the way Harry’s hand had pressed against my back. Still hear the rasp of his voice in my ear. Didn’t think I’d see you again. It was on a loop. Every word. Every glance. The way he looked at me like he knew what I’d been thinking from the very first night.

The bus door creaked open again. My head snapped up. He stood there, framed by warm light. Loose sweats low on his hips. White towel draped around his neck. Damp curls sticking to his forehead. His eyes found mine instantly. Something shifted in his expression. Like a string being pulled tight.

“Come in, sweetheart.” His voice was lower than before. Rougher. Not a question.

My legs moved before my brain caught up. I stepped onto the bus, my breath catching the second the door shut behind me. The inside was dim, cozy. Blankets tossed on couches. A few flickering lights running along the ceiling. It smelled like him—clean sweat, something warm and woodsy.

He didn’t speak right away. Just looked at me. I could feel the air buzz between us. He took one slow step forward.

“You’ve been following the tour,” he said, voice soft.

It wasn’t an accusation. It wasn’t teasing. Just… noticing.

I nodded. “Since Denver.”

He smiled, barely. “I know. I’ve seen you.”

My stomach flipped. “I thought maybe you had.”

He kept moving closer. “You wore that green thing in Nashville.”

My cheeks burned. “You remember that?”

“I remember everything.”

Now he was standing right in front of me. I had to tilt my head back just slightly to meet his eyes. They were darker now. Hungrier. And I swear—swear—he looked at my mouth like he’d already had it.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he murmured. “Tried to. Told myself it was nothing.” His fingers brushed my wrist. Light. Barely there. “But then you showed up again tonight… and I knew I wasn’t gonna be able to wait.”

I let out the softest breath. He leaned in.

“You want this, don’t you?” he whispered.

I swallowed hard. “Yeah.”

He didn’t hesitate. One hand slid to the back of my neck. The other gripped my waist. And then he kissed me. It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t gentle. It was messy and hot and open-mouthed, like he’d been waiting for this since the moment our eyes first met. Like he didn’t have time to be careful. I kissed him back like I’d been aching to. His hands roamed—over my back, my hips, curling into my hair. I gasped when he tugged. He groaned when I bit his lip. It was clumsy in the best way. Urgent. Desperate.

When he pulled back, we were both breathless. He pressed his forehead to mine.

“We’ve got about ten minutes,” he said. “Maybe fifteen.” My heart slammed against my ribs. “That enough?” he asked.

I smiled, breathless. “More than.”

He grinned, wicked and boyish. “Knew I liked you.”

Then he took my hand, pulled me toward the back of the bus—and locked the door behind us. The second the door clicked shut behind us, something in him shifted. His grip tightened. His mouth crashed onto mine again, more urgent this time—less like a kiss and more like a collision. Tongue deep, teeth nipping, hands everywhere. He was all over me. Pushing me back until my knees hit the couch.

“Sit,” he rasped.

I dropped onto the cushions without thinking, my thighs pressed together in anticipation. He stood over me, chest rising and falling. His eyes dragged slowly down my body, so full of heat it made my skin burn.

“You’re real fuckin’ pretty, y’know that?”

I swallowed, nodding before I even realized I was doing it. He leaned down and tugged me forward by the hips until I was slotted between his legs. One of his hands slid into my hair—fingers twisting—and the other cupped my jaw.

“Open your mouth for me.” I obeyed instantly. He smirked, then let a string of spit drip from his mouth onto my tongue. “Swallow.” Fuck.

I did, and he groaned under his breath like I’d just touched him.

“Good girl.” I whimpered.

He knelt down, suddenly eye-level with me, and reached under my skirt without warning. His fingers pushed past the waistband of my panties, sliding through the slick mess already there.

“Fuck me,” he whispered. “You’re soaked.”

I could barely breathe. “Been like that since the meet and greet.”

He laughed—a soft, breathy sound full of disbelief. “You’re gonna kill me.”

Then his fingers dipped inside me, slow at first, curling just right. My head dropped back with a moan.

He leaned in, lips against my throat. “You gotta be quiet, angel.” I nodded quickly. “You gonna be good for me?”

I nodded again, harder. “Yes. I promise.”

But then he pushed a second finger in, twisting them just right, and my hips bucked.

He groaned into my neck. “You’re already losing it.”

I bit my lip to keep the sound in, whimpering as he fucked me with his fingers, faster now, his thumb circling my clit with practiced ease. My thighs started to shake.

He pulled back to watch me. “Want you to come just like this. Think you can do that for me?” I tried to answer but it came out as a whine. He smirked, breath hot. “C’mon, pretty girl. Don’t make me work for it.”

A few more strokes and I was gone—legs shaking, mouth open in a silent cry, nails digging into his shoulder. He kissed me through it, swallowing the broken sounds, letting me fall apart all over his hand. And then—without warning—he stood up, yanked his sweats down, and wrapped a fist around his cock. I gasped. It was thick. Heavy. Veiny. Red at the tip. And already leaking.

“You wanna be on your knees for this,” he muttered, voice gone rough. I dropped instantly. He let out the filthiest moan I’d ever heard when I wrapped my lips around him. “Fuck, that’s it… just like that.”

His hand tangled in my hair again, gently guiding the pace as I sucked him deep—tongue tracing every ridge, cheeks hollowing. He hissed every time I gagged a little, then praised me like I was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

“Fuckin’ mouth on you… god, I’m not gonna last—” But he didn’t pull away.

He grabbed the back of my head and held me there, cock deep, hips jerking forward once—twice—and then he pulled out last second, stroking himself with fast, desperate movements right in front of my face. I looked up, eyes wide, panting, spit smeared across my chin.

He groaned. “Get on the couch. Now. On your back.” I scrambled up, heart racing. He climbed over me, lined himself up, and paused. “Still want this?”

I didn’t hesitate. “Yes. Please.”

And he slid in, slow and thick and deep. We both moaned—his low and drawn out, mine high and choked. He started to move, hips snapping hard and fast almost immediately.

I gasped. “Harry—fuck—too loud—”

“I know,” he panted. “I know, I’m sorry. Can’t help it.”

He bent down, buried his face in my neck, and kept fucking me like he didn’t care who heard. But then someone walked past the bus. Footsteps. Close. I tensed. Froze. Covered my mouth with both hands. Harry didn’t stop.

He looked me straight in the eye and whispered, “Stay with me. Ride it out.”

Then he grabbed both of my thighs, shoved them up, and drove into me deeper—hard enough to make the couch creak. I bit back a scream, head thrown back. He watched me come undone again, completely wrecked under him, my body trembling and breath hitched. He didn’t even try to be quiet now.

“Fucking—shit—this pussy’s perfect—fuck—” I reached up, hand over his mouth. He growled behind it. Licked it. Bit my palm.

When he finally came, it was with a broken moan into my neck and a final, hard thrust. His whole body shook. He muttered something I couldn’t understand—just breath and curse words and my name over and over. He collapsed on top of me, still inside, breathing hard. Neither of us spoke for a while. His hand found mine, fingers lacing. Then he laughed, barely.

“I was so loud.”

I nodded, dazed. “You were.”

“I’ll take the blame if anyone says anything.”

I smiled. “Worth it.”

He leaned up just enough to kiss me again—softer this time. Sweeter. Then he grinned.

“Let’s do that again tomorrow.”

*****

@cloudyluun @gem1712 @dipmeinhoneyh @idk199o @harrrrystylesslut @sparxx27 @likea-silhouette @fangirl509east @mads3502

[cottonlemonade]

First Kiss

word count: 2292 || avg. reading time: 10 mins.

pairing: post-time skip!Ushijima x chubby manager!Reader (feat. Jackals and Adlers)

genre: fluff with spice

warnings: lots of spoilers, mdni

request: medium papaya lemonade with a slice of starfruit for Ushijima || fluffy-spicy first kiss with Ushijima, as manager

Ushijima knew he was in trouble when Hinata proudly sent him a message with a picture attached, bragging about MSBY’s new manager. In the team photo, you were hard to overlook, being much much shorter than most of the players (even Hinata) and flanked by a beaming Bokuto and a smugly grinning Atsumu, both having a hand slung over your shoulder. The official Black Jackals jacket was half-zipped on your rounded hips, and with an excited smile on your face, you held up a glossy team banner announcing a new social media hashtag. Mindlessly typing, Ushijima somehow landed on the team’s page and scrolled through the posts. The jackals certainly looked like worthy opponents - and unserious goofballs - but his snooping stopped at a short clip with the new assistant manager. He pressed play.

You were introducing yourself in charmingly accented Japanese, laughing whenever Bokuto, who was obviously the one filming, gave you a thumbs up after every sentence. With a little difficulty, you told the invisible audience to look forward to the next game. At the end of the video, the camera turned and Bokuto‘s grin filled the screen, calling in that booming voice of his how great their team was especially with their new addition. Ushijima couldn‘t disagree. The concept of falling at first sight, especially for someone he had never met before was absurd, but he couldn‘t stop staring at you. He played the clip a few more times, completely enamored by your voice and laughter. Rolling over in his bed so he lay on his stomach, Ushijima opened the chat with his old rival back up.

Hinata Shouyou, I have a proposition.

“Just like old times, hey?!“, Bokuto slapped Kageyama hard on the shoulder. The setter rolled his neck but nodded politely. It had taken little to no persuasion to invite the MSBY team to a long weekend of friendly training matches in Tokyo. Ushijima bowed when he saw Hinata jump out of the large taxi, shoulders significantly broadened, freckle-faced from his time in Brazil playing for hours in the sun, and just as excited as ever.

“Ushijima-san.“, he grinned and bowed deeply, “I look forward to winning against you - again.“

The former captain graced him with a small smile and was about to launch into a short speech he prepared when you wiggled out of your seat and stepped onto the asphalt. He had a clear view over Hinata‘s head and didn‘t hide his blatant staring in the slightest. The camera didn‘t do you justice, he thought. You were even lovelier in person.

You called the team to order and they all assembled into a neat row Ushijima wouldn‘t have expected them to be capable of. The coaches both went to greet each other like old friends and you stepped forward with a large box in hand that looked heavy. You held it out with a smile, thanking them for the invitation and Ushijima cut into Hirugami‘s way to accept the gift.

His captain eyed him for a moment, then smirked knowingly and welcomed you before leading everyone inside.

“That‘s an awful lot of staring you‘re doing.“, Hoshiumi plopped down on the bench next to him, taking a few deep gulps from his water bottle.

“What?“

“Yeah, why don‘t you go talk to her?“, Hirugami joined him on his other side, retying his shoes.

“We‘re in the middle of a game.“, Ushijima noted and Hoshiumi shared a look with the captain. Obviously, neither of them had expected that he would so readily admit to his crush.

Apart from that one time when Ushijima was too busy watching you take notes for analysis and let Bokuto serve an ace right next to him, the match went off without further incidents.

Afterward, the teams went out for dinner and he listened to a long discussion between you and Hinata about your favorite movies. Ushijima was grateful when the wing spiker invited him into the conversation. He kept talking to you long after the majority of the others became sleepy from good food and drink. As you excused yourself to the bathroom, Atsumu took your spot across from him, leaned over the table with long steepled fingers, and said conspiratorially, “Little birdie told me, yer crushin‘ hard on our new manager.“

“Are you referring to Hoshiumi this way because his old school‘s mascot is a seagull?“, Ushijima asked genuinely.

Atsumu shook his head, taken aback by this unforeseen display of logic.

“I- no… no! Yer not being very sleek about it.“, the opposing setter‘s cockiness returned, “It was real easy to figure out.“

“After Hinata told you.“, Bokuto added, turning a neighboring chair 180 degrees and resting his arms on the back.

“Bokkun! I was havin‘ a moment here.“

“Sorry. - So, are you gonna ask her out? She isn‘t seeing anyone. I asked.“

Ushijima blinked.

When they met for the next day’s training, Ushijima should have known the others were up to something when they kept dragging you over to him for no apparent reason other than to brag about his accomplishments.

“Did you know he is one of the top 5 aces in the country?”

“He’s left-handed. Diddya notice? Makes him extra dangerous.”

“Do you remember the allrounder setter we told you about? The one who was so good he went to play for Argentina right out of high school? Yeah. He never managed to beat Ushijima.”

“He is so tall, he is like 1.90m! Y/n, look!”

You frowned as Hinata did a little jump to show their height difference.

Despite having gotten used to your team’s antics very quickly, this was a new peak of weirdness. You wished desperately for them to simmer down. At this rate, they’d make it too obvious how much you were crushing on their stoic opponent. Ever since you’d seen him play for the first time in his debut game for the Adlers you couldn’t help but admire his calm determination and ferocity on the court while his clumsy non-existent eloquence during interviews had you squealing with cute aggression into any nearby pillow. You had hoped you were playing it cool enough that the others didn’t catch on, but judging by their parading him in front of you like a juicy socially awkward apple waiting for your first bite, you weren’t too sure.

“How about we make some bets!”, Bokuto suggested, “Whichever team wins the most sets gets treated to dinner tonight.”

“Oh, I like that. How about, whichever spiker makes the most points gets to order extra dessert.”, Hoshiumi said confidently with his arms crossed.

“Oooh!”, Atsumu called, “How about if Omi-omi-“

“Leave me out of it.”, Sakusa grumbled from behind him.

“Fine then.”, the setter looked around, locked eyes with you and Ushijima and a grin that suggested pure evil intent grew on his face, “If Ushijima-san gets five spikes past our defenses, Y/n-kun’s gonna give him a little smooch riiiight on the cheek.”

“Now hold on a moment…”, you began nervously.

“Deal.”, Ushijima said and turned on his heel to join his team in the warmups. You only looked after him, crumpling from embarrassment.

“Oh no!”, Atsumu called dramatically, “That was the fourth spike he got past us.”

Bokuto joined him, laying the back of his hand across his forehead in his best rendition of any over-acted theater play ever, “Whatever shall we do, Tsum-Tsum?”

“How about you play the freaking game?”, Sakusa pressed out through gritted teeth. He couldn’t believe that these idiots seriously tackled him aside whenever he went to block one of Ushijima’s monster spikes.

“Don’t be such a spoilsport.”, Bokuto went to pat him on the back but Sakusa turned away like a pouty germaphobic child, “As soon as the five spikes are through you, Meian and Tomas can block him as much as you want, hm?”

Sakusa raised an unamused brow and turned to the team’s middle blockers who nodded and gave him two thumbs-up each. He scoffed and focused back on the game.

“That makes five.”, Hinata sighed.

Your face was hot enough to fry an egg. If they’d at least pretended to block the spikes any better! Ushijima probably thought you were some chubby dork too inept to get her own lovers.

And now, even worse, you were forced to sit on the sidelines, taking valuable notes with the knowledge that once the game ended, you would have to pay up.

The teams thanked each other for the first match and separated to their respective coaches for water and a game summary. But Bokuto didn‘t let Coach Foster get very far before grabbing your wrist and together with Atsumu and Hinata shepherded you across the court like some kind of offering.

Ushijima lowered his water bottle and looked at you, matching your blush with his own.

“Here.“, Kageyama held up a clean towel to his friend.

When the spiker looked at him imploringly, Kageyama added, “To wipe the sweat off your face first.“

The whole thing was made so much worse with everyone just smirking and staring at you two. You were very grateful when Hirugami pushed his teammate into a bow so you could reach him more easily. Gathering your scattered pieces of courage you stepped forward and gave him a quick featherlike kiss on the cheek. Your lips began to burn and the rest of your face threatened to melt.

Ushijima held your gaze and said, “Thank you.“, watching as you walked back to your bench under the hollering of the chaotic trio.

To cool off while the teams dug into their lunch orders, you offered to fill up all the water bottles. That would keep you busy and out of mischief range for a little while.

You absently filled bottle after bottle, feeling your lips tingle at the memory of how surprisingly soft his skin had been. As the water steadily reached the brim your eyes wandered over the many brochures on the long table next to you. They offered classes for children and seniors, even training camps with the Adlers themselves. You smiled at the thought of Ushijima trying to explain to a grandfather how to spike. And it wasn‘t difficult to imagine a flock of grandmothers swarming around him, all talking up their granddaughters as excellent marriage candidates.

“Y/n-san.“ You almost dropped your current bottle when you spun around.

“Oh hey, what are you doing here? Shouldn‘t you eat with the others?“

Ushijima shook his head, pulled a small plastic box from his jacket and held it out to you. It was a slice of strawberry roll cake. You looked from the cake to him in confusion.

“They accidentally sent an extra dessert with our order. I saved it before the others could get to it.“ He stretched his long arm if possible even further towards you.

“Thank you. That‘s very sweet of you.“ And there you went again, blushing like an idiot. You took the cake and waited in the hopes he would continue the conversation. When he didn‘t, you said, “I‘m sorry about earlier.“

“What do you mean?“

“The-the kiss.“

“Why would you be sorry? I should be the one apologizing. I didn‘t mean to make you uncomfortable.“

“You didn‘t!“, you said quickly, “I mean, who would be uncomfortable being kissed by someone as handsome as you.“

“But I didn‘t kiss you.“, he observed with a frown.

“Oh, right…“ You resisted the ever growing urge to facepalm and instead went to hide your cringing face by turning off the water and screwing shut the last bottle.

When you turned back to him, he still stood there, seemingly trying to think of something to say. Your heart sputtered when he asked, “May I?“

“May you…?“

“May I kiss you?“

“I… you… yes. Please.“

He stepped forward and took the cake from you to place it on the corner of the water fountain, then lay both large hands on your hips and with a surprised gasp from you, lifted you easily onto the table. You saw the appeal, you thought with a silly inner chuckle, not much backbending on his end involved now. His dark eyes searched yours for any protest before he leaned in. The first kiss was gentle, lips curiously brushing each other. He broke away, again waiting for a moment for any sign from you that he should stop but when none came he got bolder. One hand on the table next to your temptingly plush thigh, the other pressed against the wall behind you to steady himself, Ushijima‘s kiss became open mouthed. You grabbed the collar of his jacket and slipped your tongue between his lips. He pushed closer when he felt your legs part and let his hand wander from the table to your waist, to pull you into him. His strong arm wrapped around you, the kiss was needy and urgent, like if you were to end it, the world would stop spinning. You felt him throb against your thigh when your hand went up to grab his sweat soaked hair. Greedy fingers slid under his shirt, tracing his toned stomach and teased the edge of his waistband.

“Y/n-san…“, he groaned against your lips and tightened the grip on your hip, never having known this desperate need for someone‘s touch. You kissed your way down to his neck and God, if you weren‘t doing this in a corridor-

“Do you- hah… do you want to go on a date with me?“

You came back up for air, leaving a faint pink spot on his skin behind. It was safe to assume that he was serious in his question so instead of laughing at the absurdity of even considering a different answer, you simply replied, “Yes, I‘d love to.“

a/n: this officially marks the end of my summer lemonade stand. I am so sorry that this took two months to finish! The next event I have had lurking since May but I won’t take as many requests that time because otherwise we’ll be here til Christmas xD

Thank you so much to the anon who requested this prompt, I hope you enjoyed it. Until next time 🌟

[felassan]

Some follow up posts following the recent Bloomberg [article]. Rest of post under cut due to length.

Jason Schreier: "One element of the Dragon Age story that I want to emphasize: If the team had known in 2021 (after the single-player pivot) that they'd ship in Oct 2024, it'd be a much different game. Instead they were always under the impression they had to finish in 6-12 months, which led to all sorts of problems. This happened with Suicide Squad, too, and countless other games that seemed to be in development for years but in reality were just delayed half a dozen times, offering the team little opportunity to plan or make smart long-term decisions" [source, two]

Jason Schreier re: this Reddit post which is titled 'To the DA devs after that Bloomberg article': "I suspected that hearing the whole story behind Dragon Age: The Veilguard's tumultuous development would lead to a lot of fans expressing empathy for the people in the trenches [link]" [source]

Blair Thorburn: "the worst part is that those issues were called out almost immediately, and the choice was made to push on. this strategy backed the team into an impossible situation from the start, and it was a miracle we shipped at all, nevermind shipping at the quality we did. our narrative team were heroes." [source]

Jo Berry: "Having seen the circumstances under which they were trying to create... I mean, I only came in right at the end and it was still -- holy shit." [source]

Brian J. Audette, rt'ing the article: "Reposting without comment except: I refute that we made a bad or compromised game. We made the best version of what we released, warts and all. I'm damn proud of it and the team. We couldn't have made a _better_ Dragon Age, only a _different_ one." [source] "Still the best reviewed game I ever worked on in a 25+ year career." [source]

John Epler: "my career up to this point has been largely motivated by spite and the good news is it seems I am in no danger of running out" [source]

John Epler: "still the truest thing I've ever posted" [source] John Epler [prior post]: "sorry one last DA thing, i just want to say, once again, that the team did some incredibly herculean shit to get this game done. they deserve all the kudos and credit in the world. i've never seen people work so hard or care so much. grateful to know them all." [source]

Also:

User: "I guess my big question is why did the game get an 83 on metacritic with all these problems." Jason Schreier: "Sometimes reviewers just don't align with general reception. Fallout New Vegas got an 84 while Fallout 4 got an 87" [source]

User: "Christ. Second major BioWare game in a row to inspire an investigative "what the hell went wrong?" piece from Schreier." Jason Schreier: "third" [source]

A user queried the part of the article that stated the Mass Effect team overhauling DA:TV's ending, mentioning that this seems unfair to say.

Jason Schreier: "Well, the ME team steered it and, most importantly, got the resources to make it happen. But I see your point and obviously in game dev, credit is always a funky thing." [source]

Following the Suicide Squad post above:

User: "the difference being that suicide squad's live service push was determined by studio leadership, whereas the dragon age decisions came from outside bioware right?" Jason Schreier: "I don't think it's quite that simple. If you run a studio owned by a company whose execs are coming in with powerpoint presentations about how live-service is the future, it might be "your choice" what kind of game to pitch but what's really going to secure you a budget?" [source]

[heirofnight]

meddling, pt. 3

pairing: azriel x reader

word count: 1.9k - i will never not be a yapper

summary: ah, my favorite little adorable pair. part three of the meddling series. reader wants to thank azriel for being so kind to her since her arrival at the house of wind several months ago. she gifts him with a silver chain. azriel loses his mind. fluff, so much fluff.

warnings: none, except for potential cavities from the sweetness.

a/n: this was the brain child of a post that i made thirsting over azriel wearing a chain & rings. someone commented on that post and suggested i incorporate that into this series. and here we are. probably my favorite piece of writing that i've done so far, ok. i'm simple. pining azriel makes me weak. enjoy! <3

read part one & two

you clutched the tiny, wrapped gift box in your hands, your fingers moving to glide along the cobalt blue silk bow adorning the lid.

you felt jittery, nervous. butterflies had taken flight throughout your chest and belly, relentless wings swirling.

you supposed this gesture wouldn't strike azriel as odd, or out of left field. after all, the male had been going out of his way for you for months.

his warm, kind gestures toward you as he sat next to you during your first dinner at the house of wind - you'd been so petrified, but he took you under his wing (literally). the kind, soft eyes he'd given you. he'd served your plate, giving you hushed anecdotes about each dish so you could choose what you'd wanted to indulge in. you hadn't admitted it, but you only chose to try azriel's favorite foods.

then, the sweater. he'd given you one of his oversized sweaters to snuggle into. you'd mentioned to him one time that you often froze, no matter the weather conditions, and he'd somehow remembered that detail - presenting you with the best solution he could muster. now that you knew him a bit better, you weren't sure if he'd actually remembered you admitting how cold you always were, or if that fact was just something he was able to observe himself. he was the spymaster, after all. maybe you were just easy to read.

if you were to actually ask azriel, he'd say that he remembered every word you'd ever spoken. every detail, every slight reaction. and it wasn't because it was his job to do so - wasn't because rhys had ordered him to watch over you seven months ago upon your arrival to the house of wind. no, you no longer needed his watchful eye. you were settled in, comfortable, part of the family.

he remembered the words you spoke because he hung onto every word that left your lips.

today, you sat in that favorite armchair of yours in the private library on the third floor - as always. you glanced over to the large shelf closest to you, a smile slowly spreading across your lips as you took in the romance books neatly lined before you. the romance books that azriel had removed from an obscenely tall shelf that was completely unreachable. to you, at least - unless you felt like scaling the entire thing.

he was so observant. he'd noted your favorite genre, remembered that you struggled to reach that row of books. took time out of his day to rearrange the entire left side of the library in favor of making you more comfortable. and now, here you sat. your favorite novels within arm's reach at any given moment, all because of this achingly kind male.

yes, he deserved this gift. he'd done so much, you wished you were able to bestow him with more. you were wearing his sweater again today, but this one was different. he's since presented you with four more sweaters from his closet, although he hadn't grown less bashful about offering them over to you - even though your reaction is always the same. blushing, bright eyes staring up at him in wonder as you grip the fabric and hold it to your melting heart.

and azriel, he revels in those moments. he can't help the sense of pure pride that warms his entire body from the inside out. he couldn't stop doing things for you if he tried, your smile and twinkling eyes circulating throughout his bloodstream like the first hit of a drug so strong, it threatened to bring him to his knees.

you took a deep breath, eyes flitting towards the elegant grandfather clock to your left. he'd normally stroll into the library around this time each day, joining you to read in silent, comfortable companionship.

and, like clockwork, that feisty, stray tendril of shadow that you'd come to love twirled through the crack in the wooden double doors with a flourish. it darted straight towards you, as it always did - worrying over you for a moment each time it found you. you'd imagined it was giving you a general once-over to make sure you were safe and content. it was much like its master in that regard.

the shadow looped through your fingers and hands, taking notice of the gift box that was sitting on your lap. it focused its attention there momentarily, swirling through the silky bow that matched the color of azriel's siphons - a detail you'd hoped he didn't find weird.

azriel made his appearance a second later, pushing through the doors with a book held under his arm. he moved with so much grace, despite his tall, muscular frame. he was astonishing to watch, even if the action was something completely mundane. tearing your eyes from him sometimes felt impossible, the allure he possessed was almost suffocating - but in the sweetest way.

he didn't even try to hide the fact that his sights were set on you immediately. he used to give a sweeping glance of the entire space before he allowed himself to find you, but now, he looked for you first - and you were always there. he felt any lingering tension within his body melt into the floor beneath him.

"hey, you," you spoke tenderly towards him, and the smile that he gave you made your chest warm.

he approached you, as he always did, unable to stay too far away. his eyes raked down your torso, never tiring of the feeling of seeing you in his clothing.

"i think this one is my favorite on you," he noted, eyes turning to molten honey as he took you in.

you preened at this, making a mental note to don this particular sweater a little more than the others.

"i, uh, i have something for you," you started, extending the small gift box towards him. now you knew how he felt, waiting to see if you'd accept the items of his clothing each time he presented you with them. you held your arm out without wavering, even though you felt a bit silly now.

his cheeks tinted a light shade of pink, and he studied the box in your hand for a moment. it wasn't lost on him that you'd chosen a bow that was the exact color of his blazing siphons. he felt his heart lurch against his ribcage at the realization.

"it's just a little something," you started again, voice woven with a nervous undertone at his continued silence. "i wanted to thank you for being so kind to me since i've arrived," you cleared your throat. "you've really made this place feel like ... like a home," you finished, giving him a shy, tentative smile. he could tell by the look in your eyes that you were pleading with him to accept it. you didn't have to beg him - well. maybe he'd like that, in other circumstances. however, not now, not for this.

a small smile spread across his lips at your last words. a home. he'd made someone feel like they were home, and that was enough of a gift for azriel. several times since meeting you, he'd felt as though his heart was swelling uncontrollably, growing beyond the confines of his chest. like you were somehow nurturing and tending to it. this was one of those times.

he reached a scarred hand towards the box, taking it from you gently. "y/n," he traced the bow with his fingers, slowly tugging the ribbon apart. "you really, really didn't have to do this. i just wanted you to be comfortable here, with us," he flicked his soft eyes towards yours, and you were doing that thing you did when you were nervous - fiddling with your fingers. he wanted to grab your hands then, run his lips along your knuckles, kiss each fingertip slowly. i will love it no matter what it is, he thought to himself, please don't be so nervous.

you dipped your chin at his words, huffing a small, breathy little laugh. "well, i am, az. comfortable here. with you," you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, and azriel trembled with the urge to gently place the delicate gift box aside in favor of gently tugging your delicate body towards his instead.

he took a deep breath then, composing himself, as he lifted the lid from the box. inside was a custom-made, silver curb link chain. one that was long enough to rest right in the middle of his clavicle. small, glimmering cobalt blue stones were hand-set throughout - only able to be seen when the light hit them a certain way. but when the light did hit them, they were stunning. the surface of the gems danced with the fragments of light as though they were on fire, alive.

this made him think of you: the light that found his shadows, setting him aflame.

his breath caught in his throat, and he lifted the chain from the silk pillow that it rested on. he loved it. absolutely, wholeheartedly, loved it. it was powerful-looking, strong. the best gift he ever remembered receiving.

now, you'd be lying if you said this present wasn't also - maybe, sorta kinda - for your benefit. his strong, tanned neck hugged by a silver chain? gods. okay, yeah, this was slightly indulgent on your part.

but, in your defense, azriel had begun sporting silver signet rings on several of his elegant fingers. you thought a similarly-fashioned chain would tie the look together nicely. this was just a product of your own observant nature. really, that's all it was.

...

azriel let out an exhale of astonishment, meeting your eyes with widened ones of his own.

"this, is - i mean. beautiful. this is - thank you," he breathed out, setting the now-empty box, and the book he'd been cradling under his arm, down beside you. he gently began working at the clasp of the chain, his movements so careful, you could tell he was trying his hardest not to break it - ruin it.

you stood up before him, taking a step so that you were right in front of his towering frame. "here," you whispered, tenderly taking the chain from his hands. you unclasped it with ease, standing on your tip-toes to reach behind his neck - wanting to place it on him. he ducked his head for you politely, allowing you to see what you were doing a bit better.

you were so close to him, and with his head ducked down towards you, his chin was nearly resting on your shoulder. you fought every instinct within your body that was screaming at you to move closer, breathe deeper, inhale his scent, touch him.

but you didn't. you held your composure, clasping the necklace around his neck - making sure to be careful of his wings.

azriel had his eyes closed, also fighting similar urges of his own. he wanted so badly to rest his face within the crook of your neck, wrap his arms around the middle of your back, tug you into him.

two lovesick idiots, silently pining for the other.

necklace now adorning his neck, you stepped back. azriel stood to his full height once more, and he peered down at you with a gaze that he fought to keep friendly - instead of one that screamed complete adoration.

"well," he croaked out, swallowing thickly. your eyes darted to the movement, watching his adam's apple bob beneath the silver jewelry.

you were fucked.

"how's it look?", he continued, his hand reaching towards his neck to trace the smooth, curbed chain.

it was your turn to swallow hard, which of course, he noticed. he fought a smirk, especially when he witnessed your cheeks growing hot.

you pursed your lips together, trying your best to think of a response that wasn't akin to a dog barking.

"it's -," you sighed thoughtfully, smiling warmly up at him, "you look very handsome," you stated playfully, hooking a finger underneath the chain, tugging him towards you lightly.

he faltered for a moment, almost stumbling into you. not because of your light tug, but because of your words. handsome. he loved that compliment - was one of his favorites. however, the one bit of praise that always sent him to his knees was being called pretty.

"so pretty, az," you whispered again, seemingly more to yourself than to him, eyes caught on his neck.

okay, so now azriel was fucked.

a/n: okay, i think this was my favorite installation of this series so far. i'm giggling and kicking my feet, and i'm the one writing it lmfao. azriel is making me WEAK, i need to lay down now. let me know what you think! thank you for reading <3

tag list: @stressed-reader @vhjlucky13 @scarsandallaz @victory-salads @weirdo-fun @topaz125 @mrsjna @lovegoodlunaa @lilah-asteria @andreperez11 @luna9876 @kennedy-brooke

let me know if you'd like to be added!

[pathologicalreid]

don't say nothing | S.R.

gemini part two

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: softdom!spencer, "good girl" (you can tear it out of my cold dead hands), alcohol, fwb, oral fixation, consent, idiots in love, praise kink, gun violence, jealous spencer? unprotected pinv sex, word count: 3.73k a/n: posting smut twice in a row who the fuck am i?? anyways, everyone's favorite idiots in love are back. i used the song don't say nothing by del water gap to provide me with inspiration.

part one

please say something, cause I've been growing lonesomer each day

Penelope threw her arms up in frustration as you walked through the front door of O’Keefe’s, “I was beginning to think you were ditching us.” She got up from the booth, letting you slide in so that you were next to the wall – across the table from Spencer.

Things with him were as awkward as ever. The two of you were like a rubber band getting stretched, every time the tension became too much, you snapped and ended up in bed together - or in the academy showers, but that was just the one time. Looking at him now, the rubber band felt taut.

“I took the liberty of getting you this,” Garcia announced, a broad smile on her face as she pushed the glass toward you.

Raising your eyebrows, you eyed the beverage suspiciously before taking a tentative sip. An undetermined liquor slid down your throat as you tried to hide the distaste from your expression. Penelope had a taste for sweet, sugary drinks, it was the main reason she usually ended up puking first at girls’ night.

Spencer noted the look on your face, discreetly sliding his glass of water toward you. Thank you, you mouthed to him, earning a slight smile in return. “So, where’s this friend of a friend that you’re trying to set Y/N up with?” Luke asked, standing at the open end of the table.

In your periphery, you saw the smile immediately drop off Spencer’s face. Feeling his eyes on you, you shifted on the supple leather of the booth and looked over at Penelope.

“He said he’d show up later,” she said, lifting her own glass to her lips and sipping out of the straw.

That was enough for you to know that it would never work between the two of you. You needed someone who was punctual. Someone who wouldn’t ghost you at the last moment. Huffing, you sat back in the seat, wondering how long you’d have to stay out before it was socially acceptable to go home.

You took about thirty minutes before asking your teammates to let you out of the booth under the guise of needing fresh air. Luke asked if you wanted to move out to the patio, but you waved him off before walking out the front door.

The spring air kissed your skin as you avoided pedestrians until you made it to the outer wall of the bar, leaning against the cool bricks and sighing.

“Are you alright?” Spencer asked, walking out of the bar, and approaching you.

Avoiding eye contact, you watched people’s shoes as they walked by – heels, sneakers, sandals. “I’m fine, Spence,” you answered simply as your heart begged you to meet his hazel eyes.

You closed your eyes as he reached out, gingerly placing his hand flat on your ribcage. “You had a close call last week,” he said matter-of-factly, referring to a shot you had taken to the chest while on a case last week.

Shrugging, you opened your eyes again, “I was wearing my vest, barely even hurts anymore.” Spencer had been on sabbatical at the time, but he still came to visit you during your overnight stay in the hospital. You were left with a gnarly bruise to the ribs, and Emily had benched you for two weeks.

Tired of your refusal to meet his eyes, Spencer hooked a finger beneath your chin, lifting it until you could make out the gold of his eyes. He looked through the window of the bar, checking for something before he tugged you further from the glass. You didn’t have the time to ask him what he was looking for before his lips were on yours in the alleyway.

Spencer Reid had a habit of kissing you like you were a last meal, with open, messy kisses that made your lovelorn chest ache.

“Garcia’s friend didn’t show up?” He asked, pulling away from you just enough to get the words out.

Shaking your head, you reached up a hand and threaded your fingers through his hair, “Nope.” You cocked your head to the side as the two of you fell into your familiar pattern, “I’m glad I didn’t agree to the date. Could’ve been a fatal blow to my self-esteem,” you told him while thinking of a good way to navigate your current situation.

He also had a habit of making your mind go blank when his lips were on you, and you almost lost it when he groaned against your mouth, “His loss.”

Your breath hitched when he used his knee to part your legs, placing an agonizing pressure on your sex as you resisted the urge to grind on his thigh.

“Hey, Y/N?” He murmured in your ear before pressing gentle kisses on the side of your throat.

Humming, you bit your lip, “Yeah?”

Detaching his lips from the soft skin of your neck, Spencer pulled away to look at you, “Thank you for not agreeing to the date.”

Your body slouched against the wall, “I can’t do this again,” you confessed. The words slipped out of your mouth too easily for it to be a lie, even if you never meant for them to come out.

Spencer took a step back, removing himself from you entirely, “What do you mean?” He asked, watching as you frantically smoothed down the front of your dress and caught your breath.

“Why do I keep doing this to myself?” You muttered helplessly, once again averting your eyes from the man standing in front of you. Taking a shaky breath, your heart pounded so violently in your chest that you thought it might burst.

Catching out at you, he firmly placed his hands on either side of your waist before you could walk away from him. “Baby, what are you talking about?” He asked you urgently.

There it was again, baby. It was like a key in a lock, causing everything to pour out of you. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Isn’t that funny? You’re there, haunting my every move, and none of me occupies even a fragment of your mind.”

Recognition flashed in his eyes as he processed what you were saying to him, “It’s me?” He said, hazel eyes flickering over your face.

“Of course, it’s you, Spencer,” you said exasperatedly, afraid of years of longing coming out in a random alleyway in the district. Tears pricked at your eyes as you silently pleaded for him to say something.

Bewilderment was pasted on his face as he opened his mouth to speak, shut it, and then opened it again. “The person. Your one person that you’d say yes to. I’m your one.” He clarified, trying to get a hold on the situation.

Nodding miserably, you reached up and placed your hand over your heart as if you could staunch your bleeding heart, “You’re my one, and every time we’re together, you’re thinking about someone else.” It wasn’t an accusation; you knew he had feelings for someone else. He had told you just as much at Dave and Krystall’s wedding. Two months ago. Wiping underneath your eyes, you gathered whatever was left of your dignity and walked away from the situation.

As you walked back to your car, you were vaguely aware of people staring at you. You knew that you had played just as big of a role in your own destruction as Spencer had, maybe even more. You never should’ve had sex at the wedding, but you had sought comfort in one another.

Fishing around in your purse, you pulled your keys out, only for them to be scooped from your hands. “Hey!” You shouted in frustration, gaining the attention of passersby as they wondered whether or not they needed to call 911 or stay out of a lover’s quarrel. Shooting daggers at Spencer, you refrained from stomping your foot in frustration lest you look like a petulant child. “Give me my keys, Spencer,” you insisted, holding your hand out impatiently.

“Not until you talk to me,” he responded. He was out of breath, meaning he had run to catch up with you – a feat in and of itself.

You crossed your arms in front of your chest, “There’s nothing left to talk about, Spencer.”

He took a moment to catch his breath before looking around, “There is everything to talk about. I have to talk to you.”

Weighing your options, you reached out for your car keys, which he let you take, and unlocked the car. “Get in,” you offered halfheartedly, wiping your cheeks before getting into the driver’s seat.

Silently, you started the drive, taking a right onto the next street. “This isn’t the way to your apartment,” Spencer observed anxiously.

You shook your head as you turned on your turn signal to merge onto the highway, “No, it’s the way to yours.”

Residences had been off-limits during your illicit affair, but each member of the BAU had the ability to get to each other’s homes. It was more of a safety concern than anything else. Since you’d never been to Spencer’s apartment before, you needed him to guide you through the lobby and up the stairs. To your chagrin, he did that by taking your hand in his and having you follow him.

Looking around once he unlocked the door, the first thing you noticed was that the space was so… Spencer. From the green walls to the stained-glass window to the piles of books, it all just seemed so fitting for him. “Sit,” he said with an authoritative tone as he made his way back to the kitchen, returning with two glasses of water.

“What do you want to say, Reid?” You said, leaning back in an armchair as you looked over at him, taking calculated breaths.

Disappointment filled his eyes, “Don’t call me that.” There was something in his eyes that resembled fear, but you couldn’t quite place the reason.

Narrowing your gaze, you tilted your head to the side and feigned ignorance, “Everyone calls you that.” You challenged, even though you supposed it wasn’t true.

“You don’t,” he responded simply. It was true, over the years you had never called him Reid. Dr. Reid and Spencer Reid, yes, but never just Reid. To you, he had always been Spencer or Spence. “When you do it, it feels so… impersonal. Detached.”

You blinked, not expecting him to have said that. Your relationship with Reid had always been personal. From back when you were just friends to whatever miscellany of emotions you had now. “I didn’t mean for it to be,” you admitted defeatedly, fiddling with the buttons on your cardigan. Although maybe you had intended to detach yourself from the situation by referring to him with a name that felt less personal.

In your periphery, you saw him looking dejectedly at you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes. “Will you please look at me?”

Swallowing thickly, you closed your eyes, “I can’t.” Your voice was no more than a whisper as you admitted the truth, one look in his eyes, and you’d break your heart even worse.

“At first, I thought it was easier for me to just say I was interested in someone else because I was under the impression that you were interested in another man,” Spencer told you candidly. “My idea was that I could keep you close to me until you felt ready to move on, and that would just have to be enough.”

Staring blankly ahead of you, you reached out to grab your water from the coffee table, taking small sips as you struggled to digest what he was saying to you.

You shut your eyes tightly at the vulnerability in the room, opening them to find Spencer knelt in front of you. “What I didn’t realize was that a fraction of you would never be enough, not for me.”

Burying your face in your hands, you avoided his eyes as the gravity of his admission weighed down your shoulders. “Spence,” you begged. He needed to stop. He was toeing the point of no return.

“I am so devastatingly in love with you,” he admitted. “I didn’t know how deeply it ran until the wedding, but I just couldn’t get myself to let you go.”

Spencer pried your hands off of your face, revealing teary eyes. You let your body slide off the chair until you knelt in front of him, knee to knee. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his.

Quickly, he wrapped his arms tightly around you, pulling your body flush against his, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you answered, surprised at how easily the words rolled off of your tongue. Taking your time, you slung one arm over his shoulder, reaching the other up so you could put your hand in his hair. You relished in his groan as you tugged lightly at the strands.

You couldn’t help the whine that passed through your lips as he pulled away from you. He got to his feet before helping you up, and once you were standing, his lips were back on yours.

Leading you to what you assumed was his bedroom, you felt your blood heat up as he pushed your cardigan off of your shoulders. As you reached up to undo the buttons on his shirt, you grinned against his lips.

Sat on the edge of his bed, you parted your knees and pulled his shirt from where it was tucked into his pants before fumbling with his belt buckle. Disconnecting your lips so that you could look at what you were doing, he took the opportunity to duck his head and take your earlobe between his teeth. As he nipped at the soft skin, goosebumps spread where you were bare, leaving you in need of more. More of him.

Once you got his belt undone, you made quick work of the button and zipper on his slacks, sliding them down over his hips and ass while his hands made their way up your dress. “Spence,” you said breathlessly, trying to push his pants further down. Understanding your plea, he stepped out of them entirely, kicking them to the side.

Spencer drew away from you just enough to tug your dress off of your body, tossing it off to the side and gently guiding you so that your back was flat against the mattress. You watched in anticipation as he pulled his t-shirt off, the movement allowing for the tip of his cock to peek over the elastic of his boxers. “You’re so pretty,” he muttered, the softness of the words taking you by surprise, “Always so pretty for me, baby.” He gently traced his finger over your bruise as a shadow of worry crossed his features, but it was gone as quickly as it showed up.

His words spurred you on to pull at his underwear, trying to take them off, but you simply didn’t have the arm span to do it on your own. “I wanna touch you,” you confessed, “Can I touch you?”

“I need to be in you,” Spencer answered, pulling his boxers off before kneeling in front of you, eyes widening when your legs fell open. Expertly, he hooked his fingers in the sides of your underwear, dragging them off in one swift motion and leaving the both of you completely bare.

Your mouth parted when his hand reached your wet heat and two fingers entered you tantalizingly slowly. “I thought- ah- no touching,” you complained. It was a halfhearted complaint because really, there was nothing to be bothered by.  

Reaching down, your hand grabbed his wrist, trying to slow his ministrations. “You’re so responsive for me,” he murmured, continuing to move his fingers in and out of you and watching in fascination as your hips bucked off of the mattress involuntarily.

“Fuck,” You said, screwing your eyes shut as that all too familiar knot started to form in your lower belly. “Spence, baby- I’ll…” A low whine escaped your throat as he withdrew his fingers from your core. “Spencer,” you said in frustration, opening your eyes to see him inspecting your slick that had been left on his fingers.

Like a rehearsed routine, he placed his hand in front of your face, prompting you to incline your head forward and wrap your lips around his index and middle finger. As you swirled your tongue around his fingers, he watched you with an undying interest. “Good girl,” he muttered, the praise causing your sensitive cunt to clench around nothing.

Taking his hand back, you looked down as he used his now free hand to line his cock up with your entrance. Laying one of your hands at the side of your head, he used his other hand to intertwine your fingers before he pushed into you. Instead of tossing your head back like you normally would, you looked up at him, watching as he hilted himself in you. “Spencer,” you whispered.

“Are you alright?” He asked, checking in with you as he placed his free hand on the other side of your head.

You nodded quickly, “It just feels different this time.” Your heart clenched at your own admission. You weren’t using each other as an escape anymore.

Spencer hummed in understanding, leaning down and pressing a tender kiss to your lips. “I love you,” he whispered, “I love you so much.”

Your breath hitched as he tentatively thrust in you like he was testing the waters. “I love you,” you responded in kind, your voice higher than usual.

The response was enough encouragement for Spencer to keep going, he tucked his face in the crook of your neck, gently biting the skin as he set the pace. Small gasps escaped your throat every time his hips met yours.

As usual, your sounds spurred him on, seemingly trying to make you as vocal as possible, he used one hand to reach up and grope your breast. While his fingers pinched at your nipple, you wrapped your legs around his torso, locking your ankles together behind him. He lifted his head, moving his lips against yours in hurried, messy kisses that only aided the knot building in your stomach.

You didn’t have the capacity to warn him before you came undone beneath him, your orgasm coming over you as you whined into his mouth. Your walls clenched around him so tightly that Spencer had a hard time keeping his pace before it became too much.

Sighing contentedly as he filled you, you ran your hands down his back as he continued working through both of your orgasms. You whimpered as he continued fucking his cum into your oversensitive hole until your head went fuzzy, “Spence.”

He stuttered to a stop, staying inside of you for just a beat under he pulled out, causing you to flinch as you were left empty. “Are you alright?” He asked, still breathing heavily – not that you were faring much better.

Nodding, you blinked rapidly as your lungs tried to catch up with the rest of you, “I’m perfect,” you answered dazedly.

Spencer smiled at you, “You are. Perfect, that is.” He sat next to you on the bed, placing a hand on your bare hip, affectionately dragging his fingers over the skin. “You need to go pee,” he said suddenly, furrowing his brows at you.

You couldn’t help it as you erupted in a fit of giggles, resulting in an adorably confused look from Spencer. “Sorry, it’s just you telling me that I need to go pee – it’s funny,” you told him, biting your lip to muffle your laugh.

“Have you not been peeing after sex?” He was clearly appalled as if the idea of you not peeing after sex was abhorrent to him.

Rolling your eyes, you propped yourself up on your elbows, “Of course, I pee after sex, Dr. Reid,” you put extra emphasis on his honorific. “And I will pee just as soon as I’m sure my legs aren’t going to give out of me when I stand up,” you explained to him, reaching out and placing a hand on his knee.

He looked at you seriously, “You know, there are some studies that say the sooner after sex you urinate the less likely you are to contract a UTI.”

“Oh my god,” you said, “Don’t say the word urinate at me while I’m naked in your bed.” You complained, clambering up and making sure you were steady before you walked to the ensuite.

Later on, you were laying in bed next to Spencer, your head was resting on his chest while he kept you tucked into his side. You flinched as a phone started ringing, you sat up and looked around for your phone. Please don’t be a case, you silently hoped as you searched the sheets for your phone.

Once you finally grabbed it, you saw Penelope’s contact flashing across the screen. Swiping the screen, you put the phone up to your ear, hearing loud music on the other end of the call. “Hey, Penny,” you said, smiling as Spencer reached out and pulled you back into him.

You adjusted your t-shirt over your skin, having made Spencer go out to your car for your go-bag so that you could have clean clothes to sleep in. He slipped his hand under the cotton of your shirt, placing his hand flat on your bare skin. You tried to greet Penelope again when she doesn’t respond.

“Hey!” Her voice chimed in through the speaker, “Where’d you go? Jason just got here!”

Frowning, you pulled your phone away and looked at the time – just past eleven o’clock. You sighed, letting your body meld into Spencer’s, “Tell him that someday he’ll find a girl with equally as atrocious time management skills as him.”

You heard some rambling on the other side of the call, and wondered how many members of the BAU made it out this late. “Okay, but where are you?”

Humming, you peered up at Spencer who had, unsurprisingly, pulled out a book to read before bed. “I’m right where I need to be,” you told her earnestly, wondering if she could hear your voice's smile as Spencer kissed your forehead softly.

tagged, if you asked for a part two: @donttrustlove @jumpingjackalope @bippityboppityboob1tch @makingbloodbaths1 @sammyreidslut

@evvy96 @mus3y @nnab @basicallynotbreathing @hell0kitty11

@tatilolz @radioactiveinvisible @lamentis-10 @k-corbett @discotitsposts

[scoonsalicious]

Like A Fairy Tale

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Dating Bucky Barnes had been like living a fairy tale, but as he distances himself from you and your relationship, you come to the realization that maybe fairy tales aren't meant to come true.

Warnings: Language to make Steve blush, mentions of alcohol use, implied sex, angst with a happy ending.

Word Count: 3.4k This is my very first posted fic, and I am very nervous but I hope you like it! If I've missed any warnings, please tell me so I can add them. Much love and thanks to my bestie @jmeelee for indulging my obsession and dropping everything to read this when I sent it to her <3 Please pardon any spelling/grammar errors.

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3 I write for 18+, so minors DNI. _____________________________________________________________

Once upon a time, being Bucky Barnes’ girl had felt like living in a fairy tale. He was everything your younger self had ever dared to dream of in a Prince Charming– attentive, affectionate, kind, and oh, how he made you laugh! You were the envy of all of your friends, the very definition of #couplegoals, and you thanked your lucky stars every night that the two of you had found one another, despite all the odds.

But fairy tales aren’t real. 

You weren’t sure exactly when it started, but somewhere in the third year of your relationship, after you’d moved into a handsome brownstone in Brooklyn together, after you’d adopted a fluffy white kitten, Bucky started pulling away from you. The steps that took him from you were small at first– he was taking on more and more missions, opting to stay gone for longer periods of time. Days would go by, and they’d turn into weeks, then a month or two at a time would go by where you wouldn’t see him. 

At first, it hadn’t been terrible– Bucky had always made sure to contact you each and every day. A video call whenever he could, a phone call or text when he couldn’t, but slowly, so slowly you barely noticed, the calls stopped coming all together. Sure, he’d answer when you called him… when he could, which wasn’t always possible on a mission, and you hated acting needy and taking him away from his work, so eventually, you stopped reaching out, too. 

When he was home, you were like ships passing in the night. You always offered to take time off of work so you could spend some time with him before he was set to head out again, but he never wanted you to jeopardize your career on his account. Your reunions would always be passionate, but short-lived, a few hot and heavy nights before he took off once more to save the world. 

You tried not to let it bother you. You really, really did. His job was so important. People’s lives relied on him. Where did you get off getting upset over that? So, you kept it to yourself. Until you couldn’t. Not any more.

“Y/N,” your best friend, Lainy, cornered you at her annual New Year’s Eve party, “where’s Barnes? He’s been leaving you to go solo for months now. I don’t think I’ve seen you with him since Mark’s St. Patrick’s Day Party.”

Ouch. “He’s working, Lainy,” you told her, not wanting to admit that March had been the last time the two of you had gone out together, let alone spent more than three days in a row in each other’s company. 

“Yeah, he was ‘working’ over the Memorial Day trip, and the 4th of July BBQ, and Jack and Alice’s wedding, and your aunt’s funeral.” You cringed internally as she applied air quotes to ‘working.’ “And he was ‘working’ on your birthday, and Christmas. Babe, he’s been leaving you alone for almost an entire year. What’s going on? Are you sure there isn’t someone else?”

The worst part was, you knew there wasn’t, or at least, no one individual. When he’d first started distancing himself, of course another woman was the first thing that came to your mind, and you weren’t proud of yourself, but you’d gone through his phone to search for evidence of an affair… multiple times, and repeatedly came up with nothing. And bless Bucky’s heart, but he didn’t have the technological know-how to hide an infidelity from you. Granted, that didn’t negate the possibility that he was randomly hooking up with people while he was away. You’d have to be stupid to not consider the possibility.

You could have asked Steve. You didn’t think Captain America had it in him to lie to you about something like that, but you didn’t want him reporting on your suspicions back to Bucky, nor did you think you could stand to see the look of pity in his eye if he had to tell you that yes, Bucky was cheating on you while you anxiously awaited his return every night. So, you kept the suspicions to yourself. 

Your conversation with Lainy had left you deflated. Here it was New Year’s Eve, and you were alone, the man you loved god knew where– just not with you. How many more holidays and milestones and everyday nights were you going to spend by yourself, waiting for a man who never seemed to want to be home with you anymore? This wasn’t the kind of life you wanted, the kind of life you deserved. 

You made your way to the kitchen to refill your glass of wine. You’d probably already had too many, but you needed to drown the despair that was slowly filling you up. As you poured an exceptionally generous glass, a man entered the kitchen. You recognized him– Harris, a cousin of Lainy’s who had flirted with you relentlessly for years before you had started seeing Bucky. 

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up upon seeing you, “it’s been awhile.” He enveloped you in a friendly hug. “How’ve you been?”

You smiled and exchanged pleasantries, catching up on the overall brushstrokes of your life. 

“I’m sorry about your breakup,” he offered gently, after you’d exhausted the usual small talk.

“My breakup?” you asked, brow piqued.

“Last few events I’ve seen you at, you’ve been alone. I assumed you and Barnes…” he left the thought floating, the implication hanging in the air: Barnes has left you alone, I assumed you broke up.

You huffed out a laugh. God. Was your relationship actually over and you were the only one dumb enough to not see it? 

“If you aren’t seeing anyone,” Harris continued, “I would really love to take you out. You’ve gotta know I’ve been into you for ages, and I figure if I don’t shoot my shot now, who knows when I’ll have another chance.”

You cocked your head and looked at him, taking in his earnest demeanor. Here was a man who genuinely wanted to spend time with you. Why were you waiting on someone who no longer wanted to be around?

“Um, I might have to get back to you on that, Harris,” you told him before excusing yourself. You needed air. 

You found yourself on Lainy’s balcony, the air deceptively mild for the end of December in Manhattan. Alone with your thoughts, you pulled out your phone and dialed Bucky’s number. It went straight to voicemail.

“Someone asked me out on a date tonight,” you said into the recording, your voice choked with tears you didn’t want to shed. “And I think I might say yes, because, honestly Buck, what are we even doing anymore? You’re never here, and I’m always alone. I tried. I tried so fucking hard to not let it get to me, because your work’s important. I know that. I do, and I’m not begrudging you for your job. But… but I can’t keep on like this. I can’t even remember the last time we spent more than three days together. Isn’t that crazy? Three days. Everyone thinks you’re cheating on me. Did you know that? You’re away so much that everyone I know is convinced you’re fucking someone else. Maybe you are, or maybe you already left me, but I’ve been too stupid to notice; if that’s the case, you could have just told me.” 

You kept your composure as you left the message. You weren’t angry at him; you never could be. You were just tired. So tired, and so lonely. 

“All I know is that it’s another night where I’m all by myself, wishing you were here, wanting to talk to you, to feel you, and you’re just… not. You’re off doing something, or someone, more important than me, and I used to be okay with that, but I can’t be anymore. I deserve more than waiting on you, Buck. I deserve to be someone’s priority. I really wish I could have been yours, the way you were mine. 

“So, let’s just call it, okay? Your heart’s obviously not in it anymore, and mine is too tired of being hurt and alone. We’ll have to figure out what to do about the house. I’m keeping Alpine, though. You haven’t been here for her, either, and it wouldn’t be fair of you to take her if you’re never going to be around.”

Inside, you could hear the rest of the party as they counted down to midnight. When they reached zero, the night erupted in fireworks, and you could hear cheers and cars honking their horns throughout the city below you.

“Huh,” you said into your phone, “it’s midnight. Happy New Year, Buck. I hope it ends up being a good one for you, and I’m sorry for whatever I did that made you decide you didn’t want to spend this last one with me.”

You hung up the phone and the tears finally fell as you slid down the balcony railing until you were crouched on the floor. You weren’t sure how long you sat there crying, but eventually Lainy found you, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders and ushering you into her spare room. She helped you change out of your cocktail dress and into a spare pair of pajamas, and helped you wash your face before tucking you into bed. She left you with a glass of water and a kiss on the forehead, promising that tomorrow would be better, that the next best chapter of your life was about to begin, but as you drifted into a fitful sleep, you couldn’t find the will to believe her.

You woke the next morning with a throbbing headache, the alcohol and the tears doing nothing but dehydrating you into agony. You grabbed your phone to check the time, but the battery had died in the night. From the slant of the sun coming in from the guest room window, it looked to be late morning or early afternoon. 

You changed back into your dress, thanking Lainy for her help and making a small joke about doing the walk of shame in your clothes from the night before. You avoided her questions about what had happened, promising to go over it at length at the weekend after you’d had some time to process. You weren’t in the best headspace to get into at the moment.

Fortunately, your best friend knew you well enough not to pry, and you said your goodbyes, plans for brunch on Sunday having been made. You weren’t eager to get back home, to be surrounded by reminders of Bucky, when all you wanted was the man, himself. But he was your ex-boyfriend now, you supposed. You were going to have to come to terms with that sooner than later. Besides, Alpine needed to be fed, and you weren’t going to abandon her.

Your keys clicked in the lock as you opened your front door. “Al, baby,” you called, kicking off your heels and closing the door behind you, “Mommy’s home. You hungry, sweetie?”

You began making your way back toward the kitchen when a loud crash from upstairs got your attention. You rolled your eyes; what had the cat knocked over now? 

But then there was the roar of a body barreling down the upstairs hall and toward the stairs, leaving you frozen where you stood. You cast a glance to where you’d left your phone in your purse by the door. Too far away to reach in time to call for help as the intruder came pounding down the stairs. 

A massive figure rounded the corner, nearly knocking you over.

“Bucky?” You blinked, sure your eyes were playing tricks on you, but no– there he stood, and he looked like shit. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, and his eyes were swollen and red-rimmed. He’d obviously been wearing the same clothing for at least a day, if not more.

“Y/N,” he breathed, throwing his arms around you and wrapping you in an almost bone-crushing embrace. “Sweetheart, I was so worried.”

“What are you doing here, Buck?” you asked him, pulling away from him. God, you wanted to let him hold you, but you just couldn’t. Not anymore.

Bucky cupped your face in his hands, blue eyes desperately searching yours. “I got your message. Doll, it fucking broke my heart. I came straight home, but you weren’t here, and I was terrified that you were gone; that you’d left me for good.”

You scoffed. “I’m not the one who leaves, Bucky.”

He flinched at your words. “I know, Baby. I know, and ’m so sorry. I had no idea. I shoulda known what leavin’ you so much was doin’ to you, ‘cause it was doin’ it to me, too. When I heard you say that people– that you– thought I was cheating on you, that I had neglected you so much you thought I found someone else, that I could ever love anyone else, ever want anyone else– I’ve never hated myself more, doll. I can’t stand that you even had those thoughts in your head for one second, because it’s always been you. There’s never been anyone else. You’re it.”

“Then why have you been gone?” you asked him in a whisper. “If there’s no one else, and I’m it, why don’t you ever want to be with me? Why do you keep leaving?” 

Bucky ran both his hands along his face. “God, it feels so stupid now,” he said with a sigh. “But I was trying to save–”

“Trying to save the world, yeah, I know,” you interrupted him, annoyed. “Trust me, I’m well aware that I can’t compete with that. But I needed to know you thought we were worth saving, too, and you never did.”

Bucky started laughing then, and you scoffed. “Wow, you don’t have to rub it in, Bucky.”

“No, no– Sweetheart, no!” he shook his head. “That’s not it, at all. Hold on.” He went to the foyer and grabbed his go-bag; you had missed it when you walked in. Coming back to the kitchen, he put it on the table, opening it up and extracting a folded piece of paper and handing it to you.

It was a real estate listing for a farmhouse Upstate, with acreage on the Hudson. You and Bucky had talked about what kind of house you would buy if the situation had ever presented itself, and it was almost as if you’d dreamed it up.

You looked from the paper back to Bucky. “I don’t understand,” you told him.

“It needs pretty extensive renovations,” he told you. “I wanted to take on enough overtime to have the money for them and make a good dent on the mortgage, but it needed more work than I originally thought. And, I have to come clean– I haven’t been one hundred percent honest with you about where I’ve been spending all my time.” He looked up at you through his lashes, head bent down in shame.

“But… but, you said there wasn’t anyone else,” you stammered, heart ready to beat out of your chest. 

“Oh god! No, and I mean that! There isn’t, I swear! God, I’ve fucked this up so bad!” Bucky tugged at his hair in frustration. “I’ve been going on extra missions, but sometimes, Sam, Steve, and I go Upstate to do some work on the house, to cut down the costs so I could still make my timeline.”

“You already bought it?” you asked, your voice flat. You were in shock. “You want to move out? Away from me?”

Bucky moaned in distress and drew you to him again. “No! God, I’m doing this all wrong. I want us to move there, together. To make it the perfect house. The perfect home for me, my wife and our stupid fur baby.”

You stilled at his words. “I’m sorry, your what?”

Bucky smiled at you sheepishly as he reached back into his go-bag. “I’ll have you know that I had an entire plan. Was gonna have the house ready by Valentine’s Day. Take you up there as a surprise, ask you properly, but I fucked that up, so…” He brought his hand back out, holding a small burgundy velvet box. He opened it to reveal a vintage engagement ring, a sapphire instead of a diamond. Your favorite stone.

Bucky got down on one knee. “Y/N,” he began as his voice choked up a bit with emotion, “I know I fucked up for the last eight months. I would completely understand if you can’t forgive me, but I need you to know that I love you. I have only ever loved you, and if you let me, I will spend the rest of my life making up for the fact that, even for a moment, I let you think that you weren’t the most important thing in my life, my number one priority. Will you marry me?”

“Buck…” you began, not sure how to phrase what you were about to say. “What about your job? I can’t keep coming in second to the rest of the world, and I get that it’s selfish of me, but–”

“I quit,” he said simply.

“What?” Your eyes were wide with shock at his statement. 

“The second I heard your voicemail, where you said you wanted to call it because I was never there, I told Steve I was done, that I needed to start putting you first. It wasn’t even a question. I’m officially retired.”

Your mouth hung open. You had hoped he would cut down on his missions, but for him to have quit completely… You gently tugged him to his feet, taking the ring box and running a finger across it.

“It’s lovely,” you told him softly. “Absolutely perfect; exactly what I would have picked for myself.” Bucky beamed at you, pleased. “But I can’t accept it.” His face fell as you gently placed the ring back in his hands. 

“Oh,” he whispered, eyes growing glassy. “I… um, I understand. I fucked up, hurt you. I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore.”

“I still want to be with you, you idiot,” you admonished him. “But you did hurt me, and we’ve been apart for a long time. We need time to find our way back to each other again, okay? Ask me again on Valentine’s Day, just like you originally planned. Don’t do it now just because you fucked up.” You leaned up on your tip toes and kissed him. “And if it helps make you feel better, I’m probably going to say ‘yes,’ anyway.”

Bucky grinned at you. “Really?” he asked. When you nodded, he picked you up and spun you in  a circle before pressing his lips to yours as if he hadn’t touched you in months. “I promise you, Sweetheart, I’ll do anything I can to make this up to you, I swear it.”

“Anything?” you asked with a smile. “I think I know where you can start.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked you. “And where’s that?”

“Take me to bed, Bucky Barnes,” you said, kissing him again.

Without a word, Bucky swung you over his shoulder and ran with you up the stairs, your squeals and giggles echoing behind him.

Much, much later, when you lay sated together tangled in limbs and sheets with Alpine snuggled next to your heads, Bucky played with your fingers as you rested your head on his bare chest.

“So, Doll,” he said, kissing the pads of each of your fingers, “you gonna tell me who had the nerve to ask my girl out on a date?” 

You laughed. “Lainy’s cousin, Harris. I suppose I’ll have to text him now and tell him I’m not interested.”

“Hell no, you’re not interested,” Bucky chuffed. “Gonna have to remind that punk you’ve already got a boyfriend. The position has been filled.”

“That’s the thing, though,” you said, planting a kiss on his nose. “I don’t have a boyfriend anymore, do I?”

Bucky’s face fell. “But I thought you said–”

“I’ve got myself a fiance.”

Bucky tightened his grip around you, drawing you even closer to his warmth. “Yeah, okay. I gotta admit I like the sound of that a lot better.”

Your entire relationship with Bucky Barnes might not have played out like a fairy tale, but in that moment, you were more sure than ever that you two would get your happily ever after.

[beardedhotchner]

No Love Lost

A/N: Hi, this is my fourth fic that I've posted. I hope you guys enjoy as much as the first three, Amia xx

Pairing: Aaron Hotcher x Reader

Summary: Partygirl Haley leaves her son and her husband for her new boyfriend. When she arrives back in town, Aaron has remarried and Jack is thriving with his new mom. Haley watch as Jack and Aaron openly choose Reader and Haley has to face that Aaron left his job to be with Reader, so maybe his commitment to his job was never the issue....

T/W: Haley is alive, no Foyet story, Reader is called mom, jealousy (Haley and other moms to Reader), lowkey a fic aimed for Haley-haters (I'm sorry to those that like her, I do too. But for reasons she's mean in this) No use of Y/N

Background: Aaron married Reader when Jack was 3, 2 years into dating, whereas Haley has had a string of boyfriends and no one seems to put up with her for long. Aaron left the BAU to be a stay-at-home dad for Jack. The whole situation is tense and only made worse at Jack's soccer game, where Aaron and Jack openly choose Reader over Haley.

Front row and centre, like always, your designated space in the stands. Arriving early with the coach had its perks, you thought to yourself, your eyes wandering to your devilishly handsome husband, leading the team of 7 year olds through the game. You smile to yourself as Emily nudges your ribs with her sharp elbow.

"Ow!" You protest, turning back to face your husband's team, "Can I help you?"

JJ and Penelope share a look as Morgan teasingly replies, "Seriously, girl. Gotta stop watching the man so tensely. You look like you're gonna combust." He gets a soft roll of your eyes as you look back to the field, your head tilting slightly as you bite your lip.

You couldn't help it if your husband is as sexy as Aaron definitely is. It was your duty as his wife to stare. Not those other moms who were quickly earning themselves a spot on your bad side. But to Aaron, they might as well not be there, because time and time again, his eyes found yours instantly. They would speak a thousand words in just one look and you could read him like a book. And right now.... it was a warning?

Your brows crinkle as your eyes scan around for whatever danger Aaron had noticed. Luckily you hear her tight voice before you catch her attention. You have just enough time to slip away from the team and into Aaron's side, almost hiding from her.

You weren't scared of Haley. You had explained that countless times. She didn't scare you, but she was an awful person to deal with alone, so you found it easier to tuck under Aaron's arm as face her as a team.

She was currently flaunting some poor chap around the PTA moms, the women who snicker behind her back about "how tragic Haley is for not being able to keep a husband or boyfriend" and "how that girl came out of nowhere". They meant you, you knew that. These mothers were all very quick to bombard you with questions about Aaron and your relationship as if any of them had any entitlement to him.

They didn't know him, not in the way you did. And you doubted that Haley ever did, just from the way they both talk of their former marriage. Haley, a cloud of bitter, wishing the same fate of her marriage to Aaron to befall you too. Aaron, who wishes Haley the best, but refused to be in a relationship with someone who loved another. Two heartbreaking sides to one story.

But for Jack's sake you tried. Tried to be nice, tried to be supportive Haley's party lifestyle, tried to not snap at her, with all her comments and "observations" as she called them. Tried to be nice to all her boyfriends or "lovers". But that didn't mean you were friends, more like two ships passing in the night. Close enough to acknowledge each other, but far enough to not have to interact without a buffer. The "buffer" unfortunately just happened to be Aaron and most of the time, Jack.

It broke your heart to see that boy let down by her constantly. And you were beginning to see why Aaron had been so confused over your instant kindness to them both. The way you had come into their lives and changed it for the better: brightening Aaron's world and widening Jack's.

"Mom!" A small voice broke your train of thought. Your son (not by blood, but in every way that counts) was running directly toward you, a small scrape on his knee. His eyes watery as he flings his body into yours.

"Oh baby..." You coo, stroking his hair, "Come on, Dad's got some plasters in his jacket." You say, tugging at Aaron's zipper to fish out his mini first aid kit from his inside pocket.

"You okay, buddy?" Aaron's low voice asks gently. Jack doesn't get a chance to answer. Her voice cuts through you and you feel Jack's arms tighten on you.

"My baby boy!" Her screeching voice carries from where she stands with her new beau and the other moms. Jack tries to hide behind you both, knowing how his other mother can be. But unfortunately that doesn't stop her. She moves quickly to you, dropping to her knees and grasping at Jack. "Oh honeyyy!" She coos, trying to comfort the boy.

You'd have thought if she was that worried about her son, she'd be around more... you thought bitterly to yourself.

But Jack doesn't have any of it, moving away from her grasp to the bench, his attention on you and the first aid pack in your hands, "Need a plaster." His voice is now devoid of emotion, his face a mask of boredom. Both you and Aaron can see through it. He's tired of Haley's antics and her way of vying for attention. Using him as a pawn in her game. Jack hates it all. You step forward, undoing the small pack and dressing Jack's scrape. Aaron tries to talk quietly to Haley but she's more interested in sending glares to the back of your head.

"There you go, baby." You say softly, gently patting over the animal plaster, "All better, hey?" Jack nods, a small smile at his lips.

He stands, ready to join his teammates, who are celebrating their win on the field, "Thanks mom!" He calls over his shoulder, running away from the grownups. Haley stares at you as you move to start dishing up the snacks for the kids. She stands back, watching the way you and Aaron tease each other gently, the way you move around each other with ease, like a dance. The lingering touches, the look on your face as he whispers something obviously sweet to you. She sees softness in his eyes and feels her stomach drop.

"You've changed..." She muses to him, her eyebrow raised as Aaron shrugs gently. Her arms cross over her chest.

"It happens... Being at home with my wife and son..." Aaron trails off, realising what Haley is hinting to, that he wouldn't give up his job for her and their marriage, but he did for you. "Our son is worth it. So is she." He refuses to elaborate anymore. Haley nods, sighing deeply, her eyes following the way you talk gently to the parents, reminding them that the next game is held at a different park.

"We were just kids, Aaron...." She starts. It was the same phrase she used to explain away her affair. That they 'were just kids when they got married'. Except this time, it didn't revoke the reaction she thought it would. No pain on his face. No clenched fists.

Instead, Aaron nodded gently, agreeing with her, "We were." His eyes fall onto where you stand with his soccer team. The small boys trying to catch your attention, and you were giving it to them all. Making sure they all felt special in different ways. Aaron smiles softly as he turns back to Haley, "But I'm not anymore. She's shown me what it means to grow up. To want to grow older."

"You left your job!" She argues back, still feeling as though she's missed out on something bigger than herself.

"I did." He smiles softly, "We want a bigger family. Jack wants siblings. And it was easier for me to quit. My hours were getting more unpredictable. So, I stay home, look after them both. She heads to work in the morning and comes back to us at the same time every evening. She... She's my soulmate, Haley." He grabs Haley's hand, squeezing softly, "You deserve to find that too." He lets go almost as quickly as he took her hand and Haley misses the warmth instantly. Your voice breaks through to them as you push past the parents gathered with their children.

"Did you ask him?" You ask, tucking yourself into Aaron's side, your eyes looking down at Jack. The boy shakes his head and you chuckle, "Jack wants to go to that pasta place. Because Dave told him that the unit are heading there now. They want us to join."

Haley shrinks in on herself, realising Jack and Aaron's world has continued to spin without her. Her eyes look around for her date, unable to find him. As Aaron replies to you, she backs away, looking for a way out. You call to her, inviting her along. But Haley shakes her head, mumbling her goodbyes as she leaves once again. It breaks your heart to see Jack deflate at his mother absence. But he's quickly distracted by JJ and Morgan calling him over to the unit.

You pull a face to Aaron and he nods, "She's just like that..." he tries to explain but you were already sighing and pulling him along behind you.

"She's never here. Then complains when she had nothing to talk about with you both. It's exhausting." Aaron chuckles behind you, knowing how cutthroat you could be with your words, you were still so kind when talking about Haley and her... lifestyle choices.

You and the BAU all bundle into two cars. Not without a few lingering kisses between you and Aaron as the man complains about never getting you alone anymore. Haley watches from her car, her heart squeezing as she realises cheating on Aaron to hurt him had worked. But she wasn't expecting someone else to repair his heart before she found herself again.

She may have her freedom, but she lost the two boys she'd thought she'd have forever.

[mariacallous]

My earliest memory of 4chan was sitting up late at night, typing its URL into my browser, and scrolling through a thread of LOLcat memes, which were brand-new at the time.

Back then a photoshop of a cat saying "I can has cheezburger" or an image of an owl saying “ORLY?” was, without question, the funniest thing my 14-year-old brain had ever laid eyes on. So much so, I woke my dad up by laughing too hard and had to tell him that I was scrolling through pictures of cats at 2 in the morning. Later, I would become intimately familiar with the site’s much more nefarious tendencies.

It's strange to look back at 4chan, apparently wiped off the internet entirely last week by hackers from a rival message board, and think about how many different websites it was over its more than two decades online. What began as a hub for internet culture and an anonymous way station for the internet's anarchic true believers devolved over the years into a fan club for mass shooters, the central node of Gamergate, and the beating heart of far-right fascism around the world—a virus that infected every facet of our lives, from the slang we use to the politicians we vote for. But the site itself had been frozen in amber since the George W. Bush administration.

It is likely that there will never be a site like 4chan again—which is, likely, a very good thing. But it had also essentially already succeeded at its core project: chewing up the world and spitting it back out in its own image. Everything—from X to Facebook to YouTube—now sort of feels like 4chan. Which makes you wonder why it even needed to still exist.

"The novelty of a website devoted to shock and gore, and the rebelliousness inherent in it, dies when your opinions become the official policy of the world's five or so richest people and the government of the United States," the Onion CEO and former extremism reporter Ben Collins tells WIRED. “Like any ostensibly nihilist cultural phenomenon, it inherently dies if that phenomenon itself becomes The Man.”

My first experience with the more toxic side of the site came several years after my LOLcat all-nighter, when I was in college. I was a big Tumblr user—all my friends were on there—and for about a year or so, our corner of the platform felt like an extension of the house parties we would throw. That cozy vibe came crashing down for me when I got doxed the summer going into my senior year. Someone made a “hate blog” for me—one of the first times I felt the dark presence of an anonymous stranger’s digital ire, and posted my phone number on 4chan.

They played a prank that was popular on the site at the time, writing in a thread that my phone number was for a GameStop store that had a copy of the ultra-rare video game Battletoads. I received no less than 250 phone calls over the next 48 hours asking if I had a copy of the game.

Many of the 4chan users that called me mid-Battletoad attack left messages. I listened to all of them. A pattern quickly emerged: young men, clearly nervous to even leave a message, trying to harass a stranger for, seemingly, the hell of it. Those voicemails have never left me in the 15 years I've spent covering 4chan as a journalist.

I had a front-row seat to the way those timid men morphed into the violent, seething underbelly of the internet. The throbbing engine of reactionary hatred that resented everything and everyone simply because resentment was the only language its users knew how to speak. I traveled the world in the 2010s, tracing 4chan’s impact on global democracy. I followed it to France, Germany, Japan, and Brazil as 4chan's users became increasingly convinced that they could take over the planet through racist memes, far-right populism, and cyberbullying. And, in a way, they did. But the ubiquity of 4chan culture ended up being an oddly Pyrrhic victory for the site itself.

Collins, like me, closely followed 4chan's rise in the 2010s from internet backwater to unofficial propaganda organ of the Trump administration. As he sees it, once Elon Musk bought Twitter in 2022 there was really no point to 4chan anymore. Why hide behind anonymity if a billionaire lets you post the same kind of extremist content under your real name and even pays you for it?

4chan’s “user base just moved into a bigger ballpark and started immediately impacting American life and policy," Collins says. "Twitter became 4chan, then the 4chanified Twitter became the United States government. Its usefulness as an ammo dump in the culture war was diminished when they were saying things you would now hear every day on Twitter, then six months later out of the mouths of an administration official."

But understanding how 4chan went from the home of cat memes to a true internet bogeyman requires an understanding of how the site actually worked. Its features were often overlooked amid all the conversations about the site's political influence, but I'd argue they were equally, if not more, important.

4chan was founded by Christopher “Moot” Poole when he was 15. A regular user on slightly less anarchic comedy site Something Awful, Poole created a spinoff site for a message board there called “Anime Death Tentacle Rape Whorehouse.” Poole was a fan of the Japanese message board 2chan, or Futaba Channel, and wanted to give Western anime fans their own version, so he poorly translated the site's code and promoted his new site, 4chan, to Something Awful's anime community. Several core features were ported over in the process.

4chan users were anonymous, threads weren't permanent and would time out or "404" after a period of inactivity, and there were dozens of sub-boards you could post to. That unique combination of ephemerality, anonymity, and organized chaos proved to be a potent mix, immediately creating a race-to-the-bottom gutter culture unlike anything else on the web. The dark end point of the techno-utopianism that built the internet. On 4chan you were no one, and nothing you did mattered unless it was so shocking, so repulsive, so hateful that someone else noticed and decided to screenshot it before it disappeared into the digital ether.

"The iconic memes that came out of 4chan are because people took the time to save it, you know? And the fact that nobody predicted, nobody could predict or control what was saved or what wasn't saved, I think, is really, really fascinating," Cates Holderness, Tumblr's former head of editorial, tells WIRED.

Still, 4chan was more complicated than it looked from the outside. The site was organized into dozens of smaller sections, everything from comics to cooking to video games to, of course, pornography. Holderness says she learned to make bread during the pandemic thanks to 4chan's cooking board. (Full disclosure: I introduced Holderness to 4chan way back in 2012.)

"When I switched to sourdough, I got really good pointers," she says.

Holderness calls 4chan the internet's “Wild West” and says its demise this month felt appropriate in a way. The chaos that defined 4chan, both the good and the very, very bad, has largely been paved over by corporate platforms and their algorithms now.

Our feeds deliver us content; we don't have to hunt for it. We don't have to sit in front of a computer refreshing a page to find out whether we're getting a new cat meme or a new manifesto. The humanness of that era of the web, now that 4chan is gone, is likely never coming back. And we'll eventually find out if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

"The snippets that we have of what 4chan was—it's all skewed,” Holderness says. “There is no record. There's no record that can ever encapsulate what 4chan was."

[miyaoniku]

[suna rintaro] how you get together / dating headcanons

[author: chae]

a/n: brainrot because haikyuu is back and so am i (hopefully).

[fluff] [headcanon]

[suna rintaro x reader]

nothing crazy really

you first met suna rintaro in middle school

he sat behind you and often slept in class

you found out that you lived a few houses down from him when he went on his first away game for volleyball, and your homeroom teacher tasked you with delivering his assignments to his home

that's really it honestly

you didn't really interact with him much in middle school

though, after your second year, you had to move due to your parents' having to relocate for work

and that's how you ended up at inarizaki high school

little did you know that you would see suna again in your class on your first day at inarizaki!

morning of the first day, you walked into the classroom and saw someone napping in the last seat in one of the rows

it was a nostalgic sight, you thought, but there's noooo way that it's suna rintaro! he's all the way in another prefecture!

you pick the seat in front of him because you thought it was funny

your homeroom teacher started taking attendance

"suna rintaro?"

"here"

suna??

rintaro???

from middle school?????

right when the lunch bell rang, you turned around

"hey"

he looked at you

"...do i know you?"

"yeah? i think? are you from aichi prefecture?"

"yeah? .... wait didn't we go to the same middle school?"

turns out he was scouted to come to inarizaki to play volleyball

small world!

you exchange numbers and start actually hanging out, as opposed to middle school

though, some things don't change as he still sleeps in class and you still have to give him his homework when he has volleyball games

you two have lunch together, sometimes being joined by miya osamu, and play cup pong

your friendship MIGHT be on the line whenever you play 8ball

"i swear to god if you pick that one-"

"what? you'll chuck my phone across the room?"

"DON'T TEST ME SUNA RINTARO."

you send each other WAYYYYYYY too many memes

like, it's to the point where your memes outnumber your actual texts

the instagram reels you send each other go crazy sometimes

like it can range from anywhere between kirby memes to rick rolls to posts that poke fun at each other

he's honestly just a really funny friend, and you never thought anything of it

it wasn't until one day during your club activities where you and a few of your friends were chatting that you ever considered looking at suna romantically

they were talking about their own crushes and asked if anyone caught your eye

and when you responded "no," they brought up suna's name

and the idea was bizarre to you

like you?? and suna??? together???? more than friends?????

this guy literally sends you patrick star memes at 2am and asks "this you?"

pshhh impossible no way

but... you can't really stop thinking about it

because wHAT IF HE'S TREATING YOU LIKE THIS BECAUSE HE LIKES YOU????

anyways!

you start noticing the little things he does for you, like getting you your go-to drink/bread for lunch without asking you, or giving you random head pats, or him coming over to your house on a stormy day when you're alone in the house to keep you company

you stare up at your ceiling, deep in thought

no y/n, stop getting delusional. he doesn't like you like that.

you have a bigger problem at hand

the school dance is tonight

and you have NO ONE to go with!!!

you feel your phone vibrate

it's a text from suna

"open the door"

you raise an eyebrow when you open the door to see suna staring at his phone in front of you

he looks up, types something on his phone, and looks back up to you again

you feel your phone vibrate, and look at what it was this time

"wanna go together?"

you look back up in surprise, only to see him holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers up in front of you

he had his head turned away, but you saw the way the tips of his ears turned red

you felt your cheeks turn scarlet as you took the flowers from him and gave him a hug

he simply patted your head and gave you a small smile

this guy, who sends you memes at the most strangest of hours, MIGHT have a crush on you

and you MIGHT like him back

you two don't make it official until after he brought you back home

he texted you when he got back home and when he was going to bed

but not without sending one last meme for the night

it was an image of kirby looking out the window with a sad expression with the caption: "me when i miss u"

you liked the message and typed out a response, lingering on the send button for a bit before sucking it up and pressing send

"soooo when are you gonna ask me?"

he responded with another kirby meme, this time of angy kirby with hearts around his head

"be my gf?"

nothing between you and suna changed much

he isn't really an affectionate guy, but his actions speak volumes

lunch with him is still the same, and he still gives you little head pats whenever he feels like it

its just that now, he brings you closer and rests his chin on your head whenever he stands around you

sometimes he wraps his arms around you!!!

he rests his head on your shoulder when he naps during train rides

his favorite passtime is to take naps with you in his arms

he gives you a little forehead kiss and mumbles a "love you" before he drifts off

and you just snuggle into him and drift off as well

he's like a teddy bear please hang onto him QwQ

[takeyrregrets]

Oh my god!!! You actually wrote it ahhhhhh. I'm so so thankful rn and it is now my favorite one. I thought of another, top 1 student x top 2 student and they are rivals but they have feelings for each other. Again thank you so much for writing my request.

-🌂

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗪𝗶𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗿 𝗧𝗮𝗸𝗲𝘀 𝗜𝘁 𝗔𝗹𝗹 𝗔𝗰𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗺𝗶𝗰 𝗥𝗶𝘃𝗮𝗹 𝘅 𝗠𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 No notes on this--Sorry for the delay in posting!:) (His name is Dean btw)

Always the front. Always early. Always perfect posture, pen poised before the professor even starts speaking. You hate the way he never slouches. The way he never stumbles over words. The way teachers look at him like he hung the stars.

And the worst part?

He never gloats. Never even looks at the rankings. He just… stays on top. Effortless.

You’re always second. Always behind. Always watching the back of his head from two rows down, you tell yourself it's motivation, fuel. But when he glances at you over his shoulder—quiet, unreadable, eyes heavy with something unspoken—you burn hotter than any competition could explain.

You chased him like a storm for three years. Always one mark behind. One second slower. One half-point less. And the worst part?

He never acted like you existed.

You’d throw barbs during class debates, challenge his points, even accidentally bump into him in the hallway—just for a reaction.

Nothing. Until now

“You’ve got something on your mind,” he says suddenly, catching you completely off guard after class.

You freeze, halfway through packing your bag. “Huh?”

“I can tell. You get sloppy when you're distracted.” His gaze is sharp. “Your rebuttal today was weak. Uncharacteristic.” "I—I didn’t think you were really listening..." You blink, like the moment might vanish if you look too hard. It’s not anger—just shock, gentle and disarming.

He blinks, slow and indifferent. “Of course. I always listen to you.”

Something twists in your chest like a knot pulling tighter. "Then why do you act like I'm not even there?" You don’t mean for it to sound so small, so unsure—but it does.

His lips twitch, barely, like a secret slipping. “Because if I acknowledged you more, I’d start to like you. And if I liked you... I might stop needing to win.”

You stared at him, stunned. The silence between you was electric, toxic really.

“…You’re kidding.” He simply smirks before quietly walking away—as if he hadn't just completely blew your mind with this fucking news.

And your mouth—your ever-helpful, defensive mouth—acted on pure instinct:

“Wow,” you scoffed, grabbing your bag and forcing a grin. “That was so dramatic. You rehearsing for a soap opera or something?”

He didn’t turn. Didn’t even pause.

Just lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug and walked away.

You laughed to yourself. A little too loud. A little too fake. It was nothing. It had to be.

You’re early to class—his class, unfortunately. He walks in a minute later and takes his usual seat at the front.

You don’t look at him.

He doesn’t look at you.

You definitely don’t glance at him when he passes back the graded essays.

So of course, when you flip yours over and see a red 96—just one point behind his—you don’t feel something burning in your chest again.

He catches your eye, just for a second.

Smirks. Then mouths, “Close.” This fucking dick!—

You’re at your locker, struggling to jam it open, when he appears at your side.

No warning. No hello.

“Just so you know,” he says lightly, “I would’ve still liked you even if you never beat me that one time in chemistry.”

You drop your notebook.

“Excuse me?” you say, voice shrill.

He picks it up for you. Hands it over. Shrugs. “Just something I thought about.”

Then he leaves. Like he hadn’t just dug up a test, the only one you gave a damn about, from sophomore year and weaponized it against your entire worldview!

You’re mid-sentence, fists clenched, trying to articulate your point without combusting—when he cuts in, cool as ever, like he hasn’t been watching you unravel with barely-contained glee.

“I disagree,” he says, voice low and infuriatingly smooth. “But don’t stop. I like the way your mind works when you’re pissed off.”

You freeze. Your breath catches somewhere in your throat, your face going up in flames—cheeks, ears, neck. You blink like a glitching computer. Words? Gone.

Your professor stares, visibly thrown. Part of the class snickers around him

You want to scream. Or throw something. Preferably him. Preferably you out the window.

He just leans back in his chair, arms crossed, eyes glittering with satisfaction like he didn’t just commit emotional vandalism in public. Smirking like he knows he’s inside your head now, rent-free, throwing popcorn at the back of your goddamn eyeballs.

It’s raining.

You’re stuck under the same overhang outside the lecture hall. Too close. You can smell him. He smells like clean laundry and god awful cologne, the smell of the rain not even covering it

You definitely don't notice. “You’re quiet today,” he says after you sigh, god why did you have to get stuck with him of all people. You don't respond to his question He repeats himself And you turn to glare at him, he has a small smile on his face—a quiet kind, not mocking this time. Not entirely, anyway. Something softer.

You hate that it makes your heart skip.

“It's because your fucking cologne stinks” you groan, arms crossed, eyes fixing back onto the rain.

He hums. “So you like it?”

You glance at him, and than away, not willing to respond

He tilts his head, watching the raindrops slide down the concrete steps. “You’re...intense. Loud, in the best... and worst ways.”

“You suck at compliments.”

He smiles again, wider this time. “And you suck at pretending you don’t like the attention.”

You go still.

He turns toward you, that damn calm in his voice again. “You hate losing to me, but you hate being ignored more.”

You can’t help the scoff that slips from your lips, dry and unimpressed.

“And you hate that I’m right.”

You don’t answer. The rain makes a steady hiss in the silence between you. You think maybe, just maybe, if you keep your gaze forward, your feelings won’t betray you.

But of course, he doesn’t let you have that.

“I like you.” His voice is so plain, so matter-of-fact, it sounds like a weather report. “I’ve liked you since second year.”

You whip toward him, but he doesn’t look at you. Just watches the rain.

“I didn’t say anything because you looked at me like I was a wall you had to break through. Like I was a goal. And I liked being your goal.”

“…That’s insane,” you whisper, heart thundering.

He finally looks at you, quiet and honest and terrifying. “Probably.”

The rain keeps falling. Your heartbeat is loud enough to drown it out. "...I'm still going to beat you on the History test coming up..." His smile reaches ear to ear as he subtly moves closer to you "You can try!"

[sleepyjuice]

Omg wait imagine when JJ notices you like messing with his rings, he gets a fidget ring that you can spin whenever you're bored(I have one and they're rlly fun lmao)

ahhhh yes!!! I didn’t even know this was a thing lol!!!

jj debated on whether he should let you pick out a fidget ring for him, or if he should just get one and have it be a surprise for you.

He decided to go with the latter, figuring that you would want to pick him out another one at some point.

You had arrived at the chateau after a long day of work, wanting nothing more than to curl up in bed with your boyfriend. Working two doubles in a row was not for the weak.

“Hey sweet thing, how was work?” jj sat up from his spot on the couch as you swung open the door, kicking your shoes off and setting your purse on the counter as you made your way across the room to your boyfriend who had waited up for you as you didn’t get off work until 11.

You sighed as jj pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you close.

“Oh, just peachy.” You grumbled, exhausted from spending 12 hours using your ‘customer service voice.’

“Mm,” jj hummed as he pressed his lips to your neck, leaving little kisses up and down the skin, “I’m just glad you’re home now, baby.”

You tilted your head, a smile tugging at your lips before you placed your hands on his chest, softly nudging him back a bit.

“I feel gross right now. Wanna shower with me?” You asked, and jj wasted absolutely no time before swooping you into his arms and carrying you into the bathroom as you giggled.

“Yes, ma’am.”

After a nice shower that basically just consisted of the two of your groping each other the entire time, you ended up in bed.

You finally felt yourself fully relax for the night as you lay your head on your boyfriend’s chest after a post shower quickie, your half naked bodies pressed against each other.

You instinctively reached for jj’s hands, taking ahold of the closest one in reach to you, sighing as you gently played with his fingers, already feeling your eyelids grow more tired by the second.

You were practically seconds away from sleep, at this point just lazily messing with his rings when you moved to another one of his fingers to toy with his ring when you realized it just fucking spun.

That woke you right up.

“What is that?” Your eyes shot open, immediately looking down at his fingers in your hand, finally noticing that he had a new ring.

You thought you had somehow broken one of his rings or something, but upon spotting the new one, you gently gave it another little push and it spun again, your eyes shooting over to jj now.

He couldn’t hold in his laughter at your reaction, mentally patting himself on the back for his decision to let it be a surprise for you, your reaction was both hilarious yet also warmed his heart at the same time. He always felt like both emotional and material wise, he didn’t have much to offer. Though as your relationship progressed, he began to rewire some of his toxic thoughts about himself, learning more about the good things about himself that his brain never allowed him to acknowledge.

“You like it?” He laughed, already knowing the answer.

“It’s uh, it’s a fidget ring. Basically just a regular ring but it’s actually designed to be played with and stuff.” He explained, watching you with a satisfied grin as you continued to play with it.

“Did you get this for me?” You asked him, and you swore your heart was about to explode. This was genuinely one of the most thoughtful things anyone has ever done for you.

“Course I did,” he kissed the top of your head, “you’re always playin’ with my rings, thought I’d get one that’s more fun, y’know?” He chuckled softly as you continued to mess with it.

“Oh my godddd..” you giggled, tilting your head to kiss his lips repeatedly, only pulling away because you both kept laughing.

“I’m glad you like it, baby.” He hummed, pulling you even closer to him.

“I love it.” You smiled contently against his chest.

“So, you must really love when I play with your hands, huh?”