#hes like the definition of local celebrity

[melancholiaenthroned]

not to dox myself but ben stager on canadas got talent is crazy

[fangirl-dot-com]

🧠Fake Amnesia

*part of the reverse trope series*

Pairing: Lando Norris x Fan!Reader Genre: Fluff/Humor/SMAU Summary: There was a saying that if you knew a celebrity existed, your chances of meeting them out and about decreased significantly. Is it true? No clue. But, you weren't about to let that stop you from finding Lando Norris in Imola.

*I am so so sorry for the very late and delayed chapter. I hope you all like it! I switched out this one to write it before the next as "Love Triangle" was supposed to come out first, but we've had a lot of Lestappen for now! But here we go!"

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Were you a bit stupid? 

Yes. Yes you were. Did you more money than your budget allowed just to get to Imola a few days early to possibly not even find Lando? You didn’t want to talk about it. 

But right now as you perused through the local shopping area, you didn’t take the time to really dwell on your past choices. Only finding Lando could save you now. Which that seemed like a faraway dream. 

Whatever that one reddit post said about having a higher chance of meeting a celebrity if you didn’t know them was absolute bullshit. You couldn’t go back in time to stop yourself from liking a thirst trap of Lando on TikTok. And now because of that, your chances of meeting the British driver seriously decreased. 

How on earth were you supposed to find one of the most popular men alive, on a race weekend, where everyone was already looking to spot the driver in a more relaxed setting? You had no clue. But the shopping center felt like a good idea. 

You had been drawn in by one of the jewelry sections, eyes glazing over the number of zeros that followed every first number. Your heart winced at the thought of even buying one. To be honest, you didn’t even know how you got into this mall in the first place. Everyone around you was dressed in the highest European fashion. 

Your outfit wasn’t terrible per say, but it didn’t reflect the Italian area either. You were wearing some cream baggy linen pants that matched the light orange top that you had thrown on after scrambling to find a shirt. You didn’t really know exactly what shirt you were wearing, except that it was comfortable and went well with the pants. The giant number 4 on the back went completely unnoticed. Sandals adorned your feet and sunglass sat as though a crown on your head. Your cross-body bag dangled a bit against your side. 

You had just cringed once again at a price tag when your eyes landed on some brown curly hair. Your eyes followed the coils down to the face and you wanted to scream (but held it in because you were not about to get kicked out). 

There was no way that Lando Norris was standing about 10 feet away from you. 

There was no way. 

Except your hands automatically opened your phone and the twitter app popped up. You were too busy looking down at your phone, fingers moving at the speed of light, to notice that some hazel eyes had landed on your figure. 

Lando, on the other hand, wanted to sigh. Could he go one day without having to get stopped by fans? The giant 4 on your shirt seemed to mock him. Internally, he was wishing that the girl was a Max or Charles fan. 

But, he was going to be the bigger person and approach the nice looking girl before she could bring more attention to him. He decreased the space between them and tapped her shoulder, getting her attention. 

You were not expecting a tap on the shoulder. And you were definitely not expecting that tap to come from Lando Norris’s finger. 

“Can I sign something for you?” he asked. The sound of his voice must have put some type of spell on you since you felt as though you couldn’t speak. 

Lando huffed. “Please? I don’t need other people finding out that I’m here and then I’ll have to leave.” 

You blinked twice at him before you finally found your voice. “I’m sorry. Who are you exactly?” 

Stupid reddit post. 

The McLaren driver wanted to smack himself. Were you a fan? Or maybe you were wearing a papaya colored shirt that supported another person, who happened to have the same number? Or maybe if was your friend’s shirt? Or one you thrifted?

He winced. “I am so sorry. I thought. . . ” 

You shifted on your feet, brain trying to come up with an idea for what happens next. You were standing in front of thee Lando Norris. You couldn’t miss this opportunity. 

Lando watched your eyes widen and he wanted to hide. Maybe you were just shocked that it was him? 

Your eyes then squinted. “You look really familiar. Oh, I know where you’re from.” 

The Briton wanted to run and hide. This was it, you were going to start squealing, and then other people will look that way, see Lando, cause a giant crowd, and then he wouldn’t be able to do anything for the rest of the weekend. 

He was doomed. 

“You’re that actor right? From Spiderman.” 

This time, Lando blinked while staying silent. 

“No, I believe that’s Tom Holland.” 

“Oh.” 

Now it was getting awkward with the two of you just looking at each other. Which, this gave you the perfect opportunity to memorize the different shades of blue, green, and brown in his eyes. You looked to the side and chewed on you bottom lip. 

Lando looked stuck. 

“I am so sorry for interrupting your shopping,” he started out. 

You waved your hands, trying to act nonchalant. “It’s fine. Wasn’t like I could buy anything here. Way too many zeros for my liking.” 

Lando giggled at that and you internally melted. 

Time to add “got Lando Norris to giggle like a schoolgirl” on your resume. 

“Yeah. Bit too posh for me as well.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “Really? You look like you fit in a bit more than I do.” 

He rolled his eyes before huffing. “I’d rather spend time playing video games at my house instead.” 

Now this is what you could get behind. When you first started following Lando, gaming started to interest you. Because of him, you were able to meet a bunch of friends through gaming. Your notifications were specifically set up to let you know when Lando was streaming. 

Your eyes lit up with some excitement, which Lando thought was adorable. 

“I like to game too! It’s fun playing weird simulator games. Me and my friends tried this goat game one time and we couldn’t stop laughing.” 

This time, Lando’s eyes sparkled. 

“I’ve played goat simulator too with my friends! Charles . . .” he caught himself, not wanting to give out more names. “Uh my friends Carl, Alec, and Jord really liked it during the pandemic. And then we got Dax in on it too.” 

You wanted to absolutely start laughing, since you actually watched that stream live back in 2020. The cute names he gave to Charles, Alex, George, and Max were adorable. Your friends, although knowing you were watching the stream, had sent you the link and asked if you’d want to play the same simulator. Let’s just say, your laugh rivaled teapot-Charles. 

“They sound like fun,” you said, a warm tone in your voice that had Lando melting like chocolate under a hot summer’s sun. 

There was a bit of silence before Lando spoke up again. “Do you maybe, this sounds so weird, but there’s a game store farther down, would you want to join me?” 

There was no way in hell that you’d tell him no. 

You smiled up at him. “Sure! Lead the way! By the way, I’m Y/n.” 

Lando went to say something but stopped. You could tell he almost said his name, and you’d bet money on the name that was about to come out of his mouth. 

“I’m Bob.”

Bingo. 

You snorted. “You don’t look like a Bob. But what would I know?” 

The two of you laughed as you started walking farther into the shopping center. You exchanged laughs here and there, sharing stories about your lives with Lando being very vague about his day job. 

“I work as an Uber driver,” he had said after you confessed that you were now working as a part-time gamer and then part-time relator. The work was hard, but that job allowed you to spend your hard-earned money on fun things like: coming to Imola early to try to find Lando. 

Low-and-behold, you did. 

Spending the afternoon with him felt so comfortable, as if you had known each other your entire lives. And Lando, to his surprise, felt the same. After the gaming store, he even invited you to lunch. 

“You know you don’t have to do that,” you told him, but kept stride alongside him as he walked toward the small restaurants. 

He shrugged. “I know. But I like spending time with you.” 

A deep blush formed on your face as you kept walking. The bright red caused Lando to smirk just a bit. 

As you ate and made conversation, you suddenly felt the urge to use the bathroom. You quickly excused yourself and left, leaving Lando at the table along. 

He hadn’t meant to look, but your phone kept going off and his eyes just barely looked at your screen. They widened with he noticed his exact points in the season along with McLaren’s and the race schedule. And the picture of him from Miami after his first win as your lockscreen.

The Box-Box app. 

He pursed his lips for a moment, briefly feeling played. But as he sat and thought about the past few hours that he spent with you, he felt content. At any point, you could have screamed his name, asked for a picture, and ruin his shopping trip. You could have tweeted his location and hordes of people would have shown up. 

But you didn’t.  

The McLaren driver was so caught up in his head that he didn’t heard you coming. Thankfully, your screen had gone dark, still giving the effect that you “didn’t know” who he really way. 

“Everything ok Bob?” you asked as you sat back down, stealing one of his French fries from his tray. 

Lando shook his head, ridding the “betrayal” from his thoughts. 

“Just perfect. Trying to figure out who might win the Formula 1 race this weekend.” 

He wanted to smirk at you froze for just a second before leaning back just a bit, arms crossed over your chest. 

“What is that? Some type of NASCAR thing?” 

Oh, so you knew how to play. 

Luckily for Lando, so did he. 

“It’s a bit different,” he said as he took a sip of his drink. 

You were internally freaking out. 

Did he know? If he knew then he might say something. And then he’ll call his security team and get you a ban from the paddock. And you might even go to jail for stalking. Could you even go to Italian jail for that? You didn’t know and didn’t want to find out. 

However, Lando kept silent as the two of you finished your lunches. Easy conversation did flow once again when you steered it back to gaming. You had a giant smile as the two of you walked out of the shopping area. 

However, your heart dropped when you realized that the time with the Briton was coming to a quick end. Lando was feeling the same. 

You let out a sigh as you turned to look him in the eyes. “Thank you for today. I had a lot of fun! Like I said, you didn’t have to.” 

Lando scoffed. “Of course I did. I interrupted your shopping. It was the least I could do.” 

There was a lingering silence before you broke it. 

“I guess this is the end then Bob.” You held out a hand for him to shake, but he rolled his eyes and brought you into a hug. You parted after a bit and started to walk toward the little Fiat you had rented for the weekend. 

Lando felt torn until he realized he could definitely see you again. 

“Y/n! Wait!” 

You turned around to see Lando running up to you, phone out. 

“Can I have your number?” 

Yep, this is how you were going to die. Y/n L/n found dead in a parking lot after Lando Norris asked for her number. What an amazing way to go out in the end. 

You didn’t say anything, but quickly opened your phone and handed it to him, new contact ready to be filled out. The driver was smirking to himself as he filled out his information. He handed your phone back to you, only to lean down and kiss your cheek.

The familiar bright red once again filled them in as he leaned back. 

“I had a lot of fun today. Maybe I’ll see you soon?” he quietly said as he started to walk away. 

“Maybe,” you said back, biting your bottom lip after. 

Lando swore that if the two of you weren’t in the parking lot, he’d bite it for you. 

When he was a bit away, he turned back and waved at you, happy to see that you were still staring at him. But who wouldn’t stare at Lando Norris though. Definitely not you, you could stare all day long if you could. 

“Bye Y/n!”

“Bye Lando!” 

Your hands clapped over your mouth as you watched him lean back in a full laugh. You even had him hunching over in a fit of giggles. You still watched as his shoulders shake as he got into what looked to be an Uber. 

Your phone buzzed, causing you to look down at it. There was an email and a text message. One from McLaren and one from “Lando 🧡” 

“Maybe next time I can sign your shirt. I think it’s cute that you follow my points :)”

You turned around quickly, trying to see the back of your shirt in the reflection of your rental car. There it was, in all it’s glory. 

The giant-ass “4.” 

“Shit.” 

y/n_l/n has posted

y/n_y/n kinda confused about 20 guys driving around in circles. someone know what this is called?

also ran into this really cute guy. says he drives for a living. didn't know uber drivers could be hot

liked by friend1, bestie, landonorris, maxverstappen1, and 3,204 others

friend1 ayo is that the guy that you will not shut up about?

landonorris awww you don't shut up about me??

y/n_l/n STOP EXPOSING ME

bestie ok I see the appeal, can you ask someone for that brunet in the red's number??

maxverstappen1 🤺🤺🤺

y/n_l/n i think he's taken

charles_leclerc I am??

maxverstappen1 ☹️

charles_leclerc I AM TAKEN

friend2 so luckyyyyyyy

friend4 glad you had fun!

oscarpiastri I think it's called Formula 1

y/n_l/n finally someone who knows something @.landonorris you've been replaced

landonorris osc, we've talked about this

fan1 what the heck is going on

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis

[dauntlessallure]

𖤐 ⸝⸝ ˚ ┊ BANDS A MAKE HER DANCE ⋆

〝 ⠀ ݁⠀𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 , 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐨 , 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 , & 𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢 ❜ ⠀݁

【 SYNOPSIS 】— giving the jjk!men a show.

【 CONTENTS 】— stripper!reader , implied smut , fem-bodied reader , dryhumping , degradation, groping , grinding , dirty talk , consensual non consent ( for context reasons lol ) , semi established relationship + sugar daddy ( w/ nanami ) , reader is a bit of a s l u t aren’t we all though ? , kissing , daddy kink ( in toji & nanami’s ) , spanking , MDNI + any other missing tags .ᐟ

【 PAIRING 】— jjk!men x stripper!reader

【 WORD COUNT 】— 1k

⠀ ̽ ⠀ ᝰ✍︎ ﹐⠀/⠀ ❝ ⠀ 𝔄𝗗𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡 𝔑𝗢𝗧𝗘 . . .

im STILL working on boxer!toji but for now , imma let y’all EAT. :) i had this plot bunny in my brain for a while so i went ahead and finished it up. reblogs are appreciated <3. comment to join the tag list. this work is not yet proof read.

— ❥ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

gojo is well . . gojo , if the man has an excuse to go to the local stripclub ? best believe that man is going to be there in a heartbeat. he just wants to see if you’re working tonight, satoru was your favorite client after all. he was never stingy with his money but better yet , there was something about him that just made you want to bend the rules of your own contract just a little. maybe it was all the pretty little names he’d call you everytime you’d give him a dance, or maybe it’s the way your slowly grinding your hips down onto his growing erection. fuck — you were driving him crazy. “ shiiiiiit princess , you’re making me hard and you’ve just bearly started. “ gojo wanted to just grab you & pin you to the wall of the private room you two were in. “ mmhm , i can feel it. but remember ~ “ you’d begin to move your hips in slow - rhythmic circles against his lap, the feeling of the restricted fabric pressing itself up into your barely clothed cunt was really testing your own patience. “ no touching satoru, you’ll have to pay extra for that. “ satoru whined softly, lightly pressing his hips up against your ass as he reached for his wallet. “ fuck all that , you can drain my bank account fucking dry for all i care. “ the white haired man basically threw all the cash in his wallet which was a lot to the small table to his left before digging his fingertips into the flesh of your hips , pulling you back onto his lap in one swift motion making your head spin. “ think you can handle all of me baby ? hm ? tell me. “ satoru purred against the skin of your neck. you were definitely in for it tonight.

— ❥ 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

today was suguru’s birthday, and what better way to celebrate than being pulled to a strip club by his closest friends. geto had never been , though he’s heard all about it from gojo’s loud mouth. all of the other dancers were beautiful , geto wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep his composer until his eyes landed on you. you were relatively new to being an exotic dancer but you’d have no problem grabbing almost anyone’s attention when they stumbled into your sight. “ don’t be a wuss man , go ask her for a dance. “ gojo pushed on suguru’s shoulder which made geto shoot satoru a glare. but before geto could do anything , you’d be the one who makes a move first. grabbing onto his hand, geto’s gaze shoots down at you almost in shock. “ sorry to interrupt you , but a special someone has told me it’s your birthday. looks like you’ll be getting a private dance from me tonight. “ suguru’s expression was priceless. he looked back at gojo , gojo shrugged. “ wasn’t me man. “ that’s when shoko popped her head out from behind satoru. “ oh ! yeah , have fun geto. “ shoko did this ??!! suguru expected this type of thing from satoru but from shoko ?! , geto blinked at shoko before being pulled away by you. five minutes into the private session and suguru was hard as a rock which you couldn’t help but to chuckle at. he was attractive , long hair that you just wanted to sink your fingers into. “ someone’s getting excited. “ you chuckle out as you placed both hands onto his thighs, your tits on full display for geto to stare at. geto felt like he was gonna lose it, he couldn’t possibly take it. “ f— . . fuck me. “ was the only thing suguru could mutter out as he continued to watch you dance.

— ❥ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

unlike both suguru and the headache that is gojo , nanami doesn’t need stripclubs. even though yours and nanami’s sensual relationship did spark from a local gentlemen’s club , you’ve left that lifestyle behind long ago. you’ve established a very strong connection with nanami since then, even making more money now working for nanami privately. he’s vowed to keep you happy by spoiling you beyond oblivion. you were so grateful for kento , grateful enough to be standing in front of him wearing the brand new lingerie set he had custom made just for you. nanami kept a hard gaze on your figure as he raised his finger up and twirling it in a circular motion, signaling for you to spin for him. you slowly spun around allowing kento to get a good look, the color of the lingerie made your complexion pop while the lacy material hugged the curves of both your ass and your tits to perfection. nanami’s never seen a sight so beautiful. “ do you like it ? “ he questioned , patting his thigh. you’d nod quickly, getting a good look at yourself in the full body mirror to your left. “ i love it , thank you daddy. “ kento smiled. “ c’mere , i wanna see my perfect baby up close. “ you waltzed your way over to nanami , turning around to place yourself onto nanami’s lap , grinding yourself on his thighs. he immediately groaned followed by a small chuckle, placing a few chaste kisses along your shoulder while his large hands began to rub over the skin of your tummy “ hm , daddy thinks you look gorgeous but i’d rather see you uncovered for now. is that okay ? “ you nodded. RIIIIIIP. he’s done tore the fabric off of your body. “ nanami ! “ , “ don’t worry , i’ll get you more. “

— ❥ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

let’s be honest , this man spends every pretty penny he’s got at the stripclub. it’s the toji thing to do. especially spending everything he’s got just to get a private dance from you. toji quickly became one of your regular clients as he pretty much came in weekly to see you. over the course of a couple of months, you & toji began to take your private sessions up to the next level. you two just couldn’t get enough of each other, you dancing around and shaking your ass for him just wasn’t enough. toji now has you on his lap , his tongue lodging itself into your warm mouth. you were squirming under his touch , your now soaked underwear was making a wet spot on his pants while you ground on him. toji pulled back from the kiss only to laugh at how wet you’ve gotten, only making him harder. “ look at cha , makin’ a mess on me & i haven’t even got ya naked yet. “ his voice alone could make you gush all over him even more, toji let his hand smack across the plush of your ass. “ let me guess , you want more huh ? i should’ve known you were a dirty fuckin’ slut. “ you gasped as toji wrapped his arms around the small of your waist and pressed your weight down onto his throbbing length through his pants, “ t-toji ! “ a small whimper leaving your lips as more of your arousal seeped through the rough fabric. “ aht , aht , that’s not my name. . tell me whatcha want baby. “ how humiliating, but you loved everything about it. “ d—daddy .ᐟ i wanna feel you inside. “ toji chuckled before releasing his grip from around your waist, tapping your thigh as a sign for you to stand up. “ atta girl , now the panties . . lose em. “

ׂ⠀〝⠀⠀.. ⠀ ©dauntlessallure 24’ — please do not steal , publish , or post my work elsewhere or credit as your own .ᐟ

[vivwritesfics]

Hii!! Could you please write a Max verstappen x soulmate reader. Like they can speak in each other's minds and how they first met. Like fluff or angst or whatever you want . You make the call. Please 🥺🥺

LMAOOOO IM LITERALLY WRITING THIS FOR RHETT ABBOTT

Nothing, just an inchident. Fucking asshole.

Those were the first words her soulmate ever said to her, the first time she heard his voice in her head. She stopped what she was doing, looking around with wide eyes.

What the fuck?

What the fuck?

And that was how it started. The two had be so fucking surprised, buy recovered quickly. They gave awkward introductions, without actually telling each other anything about themselves.

It took the two of them a moment to realise that, whatever they thought, the other person could hear.

It seemed the two of them hadn't shut up since.

She learnt pretty quickly that he loved to talk, that he loved explaining things. He was a nerd, he loved gaming. She could have listened to him go on about gaming for hours (and she often did).

She couldn't remember what she had told him. Definitely everything but her name. God, how long had it been since his voice first entered her head.

Hey, she said as she woke up.

There was usually no response as she waited for him to wake up. She'd tried to use this to work out where in the world he was, but he was always moving, always on different time zones.

A few hours later, there he was. Hello, schat, he said in her mind. A small smile crossed her face. Are you doing anything nice today?

He rarely spoke about his own day, she noticed. But it wasn't a problem. If he wanted to her know, she'd know. My dad got me tickets to see my local race with him, she replied, pausing her makeup to concentrate on talking to him.

There was a beat before he responded. You still there? She asked, pausing on her eye liner.

What race? Cars or horses?

Cars, she responded.

Again, there was a moment of silence. But then, Not the Formula One, right?

She thought back to what her father had told her. Yeah, the Formula One.

Her soulmate when quiet after that. There was a good few hours where she finished getting ready and went with her father to the race track. All that time she'd been trying to talk to her soulmate, and all that time she'd been getting nothing in return.

It was a little disheartening, thinking her soulmate didn't want to talk to her.

No, it was really disheartening.

As she and her father sat in the stands, she couldn't help but sulk. What had she done to upset him so bad he didn't want to hear from her? Of course he could hear everything she was thinking, but she didn't much care if he wasn't going to reply.

But then all twenty cars were on the track and the lights were flashing red, ready to go green.

I'm going to win this one for you.

It had been so unexpected, it nearly had her jumping out of her seat. What? Are you here?

As soon as I'm standing on that podium, you'll know it's me.

She must have realised it then, that her soulmate was down in the number on Red Bull car. She didn't take her eyes off of it for the entirety of the race (unless she was forced to). Holy shit, that was her soulmate down there.

And he did win it. Won it for her. She watched it all, him finishing first, the podium celebrations.

How do I get to you? She asked as she hopelessly looked around. Max Verstappen was her freaking soulmate!

Stay right where you are, schat. I'll come to you.

She told him where she was, apparently able to do that now she knew for sure who her soulmate was. And there she waited as he finished a debrief with the team and got changed.

But then he was striding towards her, cap pulled low. For so many years he'd been just a voice in her head. And now he was in front of her. Smiling down at her with surprise in his eyes.

"You're beautiful." Those were the first words he said to her, the first words that weren't echoing around her head.

"So are you." Wiping her hands on her jeans, she held one out and gave him her name.

Max took her hand and shook. "I'm Max," he said, wearing his usual pretty smile.

Holy fuck, Max Verstappen really was her soulmate.

[pathologicalreid]

next of kin | S.R.

disaster strikes and you and Spencer try to take custody of your younger sister

part two

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: actually might be gn! but i'm too scared to say it is. death, orphan-ing, funerals, child custody issues, blood, general cm violence, like actually an abhorrent amount of death. sorry i killed your parents for the sake of my fanfiction can we still be friends? word count: 3.33k a/n: this is the fic that this post is about. i am in fact my own worst enemy. i hope y'all like it actually genuinely i am most definitely overthinking this. if your name is maya im sorry that sucks.

“What did your parents say?” Spencer asked, walking into the conference room that the local precinct had offered to you.

You had been staring blankly at your phone since you got off the call with your mother, “Uh, they said thanks, but no thanks.”

The uneasy feeling had settled in your stomach as soon as you found out the team was being called to your hometown, and you had been nauseous ever since you found out the UnSub’s pattern.

Married couples with an older child who had moved out and a younger child who was still at home.

Your little sister was a surprise, you had incorrectly assumed your parents were done having kids.

Until today, you wouldn’t have traded Maya for the world, but now you sat in fear of your family being targeted by a serial killer. Hotch had offered them a protective detail, but they declined. Self-righteous as they were, they told you it wouldn’t feel right for them to accept help that couldn’t be offered to everyone.

Clenching your jaw, you stood at the table, “I’ll go by later and check in on them.”

Spencer had met your family twice by now. Last Christmas he had tagged along to meet them and celebrate with your family before the two of you spent New Year’s with his mom. Then, while your sister was on Spring Break, they flew out to Virginia, and you and Spencer had shown your family around Quantico and the District.

Maya had loved Spencer, partially because you loved him, but mostly because of his magic tricks.

“Do you want me to go with you?” He asked, stepping up next to you and placing a hand on the small of your back.

You sighed and shook your head, “No, not if you’re needed here.” You reached up and cupped his cheek, smiling softly, “Thank you for offering, Spence.”

He nodded affirmatively, “If you change your mind,” he offered. Gently, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before the two of you returned to the rest of the team.

The fact that your parents lived only five minutes from the police station gave you some relief, but you still felt tightly wound. Everyone had noticed. You just needed this case to be over.

The porch lights were on when you got there, and you used your house key – which you had never taken off of your keychain - to open the front door. “Hey, kiddo,” your dad greeted from the couch. A peek into the kitchen showed you that your mom was wiping down the counters. It all felt so eerily normal.

It was dark by the time you had gotten there. Maya was already asleep, but you tip-toed into her room anyway and kissed her goodnight before going back downstairs. Once you had hugged both of your parents and told them you loved them, you made your way back to the police precinct.

By nearly three in the morning, there was no new information, and the team was starting to consider calling it a night until the police chief got a call.

“We just got a call. Lady reported shouts coming from her neighbor’s house at 86 Meadowbrook,” he informed you, putting his hands on his hips and looking around at the team.

None of them even spared him a returning glance, everyone’s eyes were on you.

Blinking rapidly, you nodded assuredly, “I have to go get Maya.” You didn’t even recognize your voice even as you said it. It couldn’t have been your voice. That was the rasp of someone far away from you.

All of the other voices around you were muffled, you couldn’t hear what people were telling you, let alone understand them.

Maya. Maya. Maya.

Brown eyes. There they were, right in front of your face. “Let’s go get her,” Spencer whispered.

You had been speaking out loud. Repeating your sister’s name like a prayer without even realizing it.

Hotch let you go with them, but he made it abundantly clear to you – and the rest of the team – that you weren’t working this case anymore.

Surrounded by reverent voices in an SUV, JJ drove while Spencer stayed in the back with you. He held your hand tightly in his.

The house was closed off with police tape. Bright yellow plastic fluttered in the wind as you watched your team and other emergency personnel enter and exit. At your insistence, Spencer went in to get Maya, it felt like it had been hours before he walked out, carrying her in his arms.

Carefully, he brought her to you, and you pulled her close to your chest, blocking her eyesight as two body bags were brought out of the house.

You didn’t hear anything after that. You just let yourself be moved to wherever you needed to be, holding your kid sister as she cried for your parents.

They had to take their bodies to the hospital even though they were already gone, and you needed to be the one to confirm their identities. Spencer stayed with Maya while you were busy. She had cried herself to the point of exhaustion, you were grateful that she was sleeping, and then you felt cruel.

By sunrise, she was still asleep, and you had been set up in that same conference room from earlier. Sitting across from you was a social worker, a representative of the state. Your lips had parted in shock as you looked at her, “What do you mean they denied my request?”

In an attempt to be helpful, JJ worked with you to file an emergency request for custody of Maya, and the case worker had just told you that the request was denied. “The state doesn’t believe your request is valid,” she told you.

Your mouth went dry, “I don’t…” you glanced over at your little sister. “Our parents were murdered last night, and they won’t let me take custody of my sister?” You asked indignantly, peering at the social worker. It wasn’t her fault, somewhere in your grief-ridden brain you knew that, but you couldn’t help the feeling that she was somehow your enemy.

“They don’t believe you can provide her with a stable living environment,” the social worker, Brittany, explained.

Narrowing your eyes, you responded, “A stable living environment like a foster home? I’m her sister. We’re family – the only family each other has left.” You stood up, excusing yourself for a moment before walking out of the precinct. Once you were outside, you promptly hurled into the bushes.

That was how he found you, to the side of the building with your hair haphazardly moved out of your face, dry heaving into the shrubbery. Gently, Spencer placed a hand on your back before starting to rub small circles on your back, “You should eat something, love.”

You just shook your head in response, you weren’t hungry. “They won’t let me take her,” you whispered morosely, straightening up, you kept your back facing him.

“What?” He asked, his hand abruptly stopping its movement on your back.

Taking a deep breath and sitting on the curb, you looked up at Spencer. “The state thinks I’m not stable enough to take her in,” you said, resting your chin in your hands.

Your boyfriend crouched down so that he could sit next to you, “Are you going to challenge it?”

“Of course I am,” you cried. “But what happens to her in the interim, Spence? She gets placed with whatever foster home here and I go back to Virginia? I see her when the family court resolves this in two years?”

Treading carefully, Spencer cleared his throat, “What are you going to do?”

Defeated, you shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m…” your voice trailed off. “My parents are dead, Spencer,” you murmured softly, tears welling in your eyes.

He reached out and wrapped his arms around you, “I know, darling. I know. I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t think I can do this alone,” you whispered, leaning gently into him.

Spencer turned to kiss your temple, “It’s a good thing you’re not alone then. I’m not going anywhere.” He waited for a moment before continuing, “Give me something to do. Give me a job to take off of your shoulders.”

In the end, you let Spencer take over funeral planning. He thanked you for trusting him before the both of you went back into the precinct.

You had just hung up with a family lawyer who had offered to take your case, letting your phone drop to the floor, you let your arms hang at your side. Someone had taken Maya to get breakfast while you spoke with the lawyer.

At the sound of the phone falling to the floor, Spencer stepped into the conference room, letting the door click shut before him. “Hey, what did he say?”

Pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes, you took in a deep breath, “Um, he said he’d be willing to take the case if I could put together a case plan to present before the judge.”

Before that phone call, you didn’t know what a case plan was, you could’ve gone your whole life without knowing what a case plan was.

“I need a year-long plan for how I’m going to prepare to have Maya in my custody, but he said a year is the best he can do,” you said, staring blankly at the wall ahead of you. “A year?” You whispered aimlessly, “I’m not waiting a fucking year to take custody of her. I have to take her home, Spence. I have to.” It wasn’t your intention to snipe at him, but you felt like you couldn’t help yourself.

The events of the last twelve hours threatened to take you down, but you had to stay strong for Maya.  

Taking a shaky breath, you looked up at Spencer, “Why is it that every time I convince myself that it’s going to be okay, I get tossed to the ground again?” You asked him.

Maybe because you weren’t fully convinced. Maybe it was because it had only been seven hours. You needed to remind yourself of that.

“She’s a ward of the state?” Spencer asked for clarification, holding you tightly.

Nodding absentmindedly, you rested your head on his shoulder as he swayed gently. “She can stay with me until after the funeral, and after that, she has to go with the social worker.”

The sad look on Spencer’s face told you that he was running out of ideas, and you were coming to the very same conclusion. “We could get married,” he offered.

“Stop, Spence,” you said, shaking your head. You couldn’t believe this was where he was going.

He shrugged helplessly, “I’m serious, Y/N. If we get married, they might think we’re stable, as a couple. They might give us custody.”

Your shoulders slumped, “I don’t want to get married just to get custody of my sister.” It certainly wasn’t that you didn’t want to marry Spencer, just not like this.

He nodded understandingly, “I know, but I’m just saying. If that’s what it takes, then I’ll do it.” Placing a comforting hand on your knee, the two of you sat in silence for a moment. “Do you have any ideas?” He asked you carefully.

Looking through the blinds of the conference room, you saw the rest of the team coming back to the precinct. Setting your jaw, you nodded, “I might.”

Opening the door, you had Maya go in with Spencer while you approached your Unit Chief. “Hey,” Hotch said, a glint of sympathy in his eyes. “How are you holding up?” He pulled you away from the people, wanting to give you privacy.

This wasn’t fair, they were still working on an active case. A case that was disturbingly close to you, and yet, you felt you were out of options. “I need a favor,” you blurted to him, wringing your hands. Your nervous energy made it impossible for you to stay still.

Hotch nodded, “What do you need?” He asked, studying your composure with the eye of a profiler.

You took a deep breath, “I was… I need you to call in a favor with someone. Anyone, really. The state won’t let me take custody of Maya, but I can’t let her become a ward of the state. Not when I’m right here, ready, willing, and able to take her.”

“Okay,” he responded, not even pausing to think about it.

Taken aback, you looked at him curiously, “I- that’s it? I had groveling prepared.”

He nodded almost imperceptibly as if he was trying to tell you it wasn’t necessary. “You’ve been a part of this team for years and not once have you ever asked for anything in return for everything you do for everyone else. This is the least I can do,” he told you.

You couldn’t help it. Overwhelmed, you tackled Hotch in a bear hug, “Thank you.” Your voice was low, “Thank you so much.”

Succinctly, Hotch hugged you back before you pulled away, “I’ll go make some calls.”

It was the smell.

The smell that you’d sensed countless times before on the job, the metallic tang of the blood. It should’ve been mostly dried by now – you supposed you were more susceptible to the scent, considering it was your parent’s blood, but it put you on high alert.

Emily had brought you by so that you could pack a bag for Maya, but you found yourself stuck on the landing. To one side, there was your childhood bedroom and Maya’s room. On the other side, there was your parent’s room.

“Y/N?” Emily called your name from downstairs, “Are you alright?”

No, you wanted to say, but you bit your tongue, scanning the house you had grown up in. “This doesn’t belong here,” you told her, glancing behind you as she made her way up the staircase.

You didn’t have gloves, so instead you pointed at the figurine that was resting on the bookshelves, a little bear facing in the direction of your parent’s bedroom door. “This is in the wrong spot?”

Nodding, your eyes followed the ceramic bear as Emily picked it up with a gloved hand. “It’s mine, it should be in my room,” you informed her. Your parents never changed anything about your childhood bedroom, not since you moved out. “It was like it was watching them,” you thought aloud.

“Do you think the UnSub did it?” She asked you gently, her voice was low but steady.

Blinking rapidly, you kept your eyes focused on the figurine, “Little Bear,” you murmured, “They called her Little Bear.”

Emily shook her head in confusion, dark hair swaying as her head moved. “Who was called Little Bear?”

Dropping the bag you had packed to the floor, you buried your face in your hands, “I should’ve seen it sooner.” The victimology, it all suddenly made sense to you. “When I was a kid, there was a family like mine. A brother who was in his twenties when his parents had another baby, a girl. They called her Little Bear.”

Realization dawned on Emily’s dark features, “Like this bear?”

You picked up the bag and started making your way back down the stairs. “Their mother made those figurines. The parents died in a fire two weeks ago – they left everything to the younger sister. It was all over the news. God, I should’ve figured it out sooner.”

“Hey,” Emily said sympathetically, “You had other things going on. None of this was your fault.” Her voice was stern, harsher than you’d ever heard her, as she pulled out her phone and called the team.

Your teammate drove, passing the police station on the way to drop you off. They left for the takedown, and you felt yourself floating into the precinct. Maya was waiting in the conference room for you, watching cartoons on someone’s laptop.

Kneeling in front of your little sister, you tapped the space bar, pausing the video. “Hey, kiddo,” you whispered, reaching over, and smoothing her hair away from her face. “How are you feeling?”

She had cried herself to sleep earlier, and you felt like you hadn’t been around enough. Maya sat up on the couch and rubbed her eyes, they were red, but not teary. “I miss mommy,” she told you, pouting slightly.

You nodded gently, moving to sit next to her before you pulled her into your lap. At six years old, she was all gangly limbs, just starting to grow into her own person. Just old enough to understand death, “I know, baby. I miss them too.”

“They wouldn’t lemme go home,” she continued, leaning her head on your shoulder. “I wanted Thumper,” she whined, sounding younger than she was.

Looking up at the light, you silently begged for your tears to go away. “I got him for you,” you told her, reaching into your bag and producing the small stuffed bunny that you had given her as a baby.

You savored the way her eyes lit up as she grabbed the stuffed animal from you.

“So, you and Thumper are gonna come to stay with me in Virginia. Do you remember going there? You said you liked it?” You kept smoothing her hair back as she held her toy.

She was silent for a moment, “Will Spencer be there?” She asked quietly.

Smiling slightly, you nodded, “He and I live together, so he’ll be there with us.” Slowly, you started rocking back and forth, trying to soothe the both of you simultaneously.

“As long as he doesn’t pull money out of my ear,” she answered succinctly, shutting her eyes as she leaned up against you.

There was approximately an hour before you watched the team return to the precinct, slowly, you laid Maya down on the couch before walking out. “It was a clean shoot,” you heard Rossi tell Morgan, and one look at the rest of them told you everything you needed to know.

The team went back to the hotel, and Spencer filled you in on the funeral arrangements he had made on your behalf. You were about to try to get some sleep when Hotch approached you and told you he needed to speak to you.

“I called a good friend of mine on your behalf, and he gave me some information. We were able to work out a plan,” he told you, sitting across from you in the hotel lobby.

You were about to tell him that a case plan wouldn’t work, but he held his hand out, telling you to wait.

He nodded before he kept going, “He was able to file an emergency request to grant you temporary custody of Maya, and it was granted.”

You felt sick to your stomach, “She’s mine?”

“Temporarily, you’ll have to take care of some formalities back in Virginia, but you have full custody of her,” he informed you. “You’re being granted family leave, and I’ve encouraged Reid to apply for it as well,” Hotch told you, reaching out and placing a hand on your shoulder. “I am… I’m sorry that you’ve had to go through this but thank you for coming to me when you needed the help.”

You nodded absentmindedly, your head still whirling with the information that you had just been given. Stumbling, you walked back to your hotel room that you were sharing with Spencer and Maya.

The funeral was planned, the custody issue was solved, all there was left to do was…

“Baby?” Spencer said softly as you swung open the door, “Everyone else took Maya to get ice cream, I figured it couldn’t-“ his voice broke off at your first sob.

Everything you had held in came bursting out, all of the grief and stress and exhaustion nearly knocked your legs out from underneath you.

But Spencer was there to catch you.

part two

[hadersversion]

i had a long day but obviously there’s only one thing on my mind….if you guessed logan howlett, you’re correct! but if you guessed old man! logan, i owe ya a scratchy on friday ;)

but….

imagine old man! logan and a librarian! reader.

logan, laura, and charles moved out into the countryside in oregon. settling down in a nice cabin in the woods, town being a few miles away.

you lived nearby, all by your lonesome. you worked in town at the local library. charles brought laura in the one day, searching for some old book that you’re pretty sure they stopped printing in the 70s…but you didn’t want to let the old geezer down so you did some digging. you watched as laura walked around the building, eyes open in awe. it’s almost like she’s never seen a library before. she stopped in front of a child’s chapter book collection, eyeing it up.

“that one’s my favorite, you could borrow it if you want to. i’m sure your grandfather would let ya get a library card.” you winked at her.

she looked at you then the books, a small smile appearing. she grabbed the book and walked up to the counter with you, charles eagerly waiting to see what laura picked. you start to get laura’s library card ready, turning your back on the two.

“there you two are, got me thinking i lost ya out there.” a gruff voice said from behind.

you turned around, library card and book in hand.

“what the hells that?” he asks.

the man is tall, older looking. but nonetheless handsome. his broad shoulders being hugged by a flannel.

“a library card. for laura.” you smile, handing it over to her. “remember in two weeks you have to return it. or whenever your finished.” you said.

logan looked down at you, studying your kind demeanor. you’re cute, he thought, really cute. the large cardigan covering your body as glasses sit atop your head. but logan being logan, pushes down any feeling and huffs. “cars running, let’s go.”

charles and laura wave bye before leaving, you watch as the man pushes him out. his shoulders are tensed. his grey hair sticking up every which way and his matching beard needing a trim. but something about him intrigued you.

laura and charles become regulars at the library, constantly visiting and perusing the shelves. often spending hours just reading and enjoying the silence. and there’s logan, waiting around like he has something better to do.

“ya know, readings actually good for you? right?” you joke.

he rolls his eyes. “got more important things to do than sit around in this stuffy place all day.”

“grumpy.” you mutter, causing him to look over at you. “why don’t you go look for something? there’s gotta be something you like!”

he shakes his head. “doubt it.”

you grab his hand and pull him towards the shelves. “come on, give it a try.” you pour your lip.

his breathe hitches and his eyes burn into you. he’s never been this close to you. been able to smell your scent of a flowery perfume and bubblegum. his demeanor changes a bit, staring at your lips. if he was already thinking about you a lot, this was definitely not helping. “fine.”

you spend the afternoon looking for anything that will please this man.

“war books?”

“been there, done that.”

“art history?”

“do i look like an art professor?”

“maybe in a past time.” you wink. “hmm, cooking?”

he shakes his head.

“god, you’re so hard to please.” you go through each section. “the history of harley davidson?”

this piqued his interest. “let me see that.” he grabs it, pushing his glasses off his head and onto his face.

you could do a celebration dance. “told ya!”

“yeah, yeah. let me go find the kid and the old man to check this book out.”

logan starts joining the two on the library trips. he says it’s to find more books on automotives. but charles often teases him that it’s to see his favorite librarian.

he denies but even laura knows the truth.

the old man has a crush.

[leaderwonim]

𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐘 — four: not an ounce of comfort

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. lee heeseung x fem!reader, park sunghoon x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲. Y/N always knew that her high school was dominated by wealth and privilege. Upon having a one night stand with popular athlete Lee Heeseung, she uncovers that Heeseung's friend group controls not only social dynamics but also school policies and local affairs, revealing a hidden world of power and manipulation behind their so called perfectly polished exteriors

masterlist | previous | next

You ended up rushing over to the football field, a blue painted 85 on the side of your cheek.

85 was Heeseung’s number, Giselle had told you because she saw his jersey a couple times while passing the football field.

“Are you wearing a push-up bra?” Giselle asks as she examines your chest area with a quirked brow. “Trying to impress the Mr, aren’t you?”

You roll your eyes, shoving her back jokingly. “Gigi!”

Yujin shows up not a minute later, her honors chemistry textbook in her hand. “Are you wearing a push-up bra, Y/N?”

“Is it so obvious that everybody knows?!” You exclaim, huffing as you crossed your arms.

“Girl, it’s fine.” Giselle pats your back. “Heeseung will definitely like it.”

The coach blows his whistle and the game starts to become upbeat again, the stadium filled with students cheering.

You could see Hanni and Danielle do warm up stretches on the track, and you can’t help but feel a bit of envy towards the two.

They practically had a perfect life.

“Go go go!” You heard the crowd roar, watching as Heeseung runs through his opponents in a flash. “TOUCHDOWN!”

Giselle shrieks, grabbing both you and Yujin—who crinkled her eyes in disgust—in a tight hug.

“Well what are you waiting for?” Giselle screams over the cheering crowd. “Go with him for your project girl!”

You run down the stadium stairs, bumping into Seojun with a pck!

“You’re Heeseung’s partner,” he smirks. “Heeseung’s over there celebrating with the team. I’ll take you to them.”

Although Seojun intimidated you to the max, you knew you were going to do yourself worst if you said no to his offer.

“Heeseung.” Seojun taps on the boy’s shoulder, and when he turns around, you’re almost stunned by his beauty.

Who knew Lee Heeseung in his football jersey would be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Seungie!” Before you could say your greetings, Hanni runs over in her cheer uniform and pompoms, jumping on Heeseung and wrapping her legs around his waist.

He wraps his arm around her frame within seconds, securing her. He gives you an awkward smile, one which you return back.

“I’m so proud of you!” She says after setting herself on the ground again. “You just needed harsh motivation Heeseung!”

He nods, then looks back to you. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah.”

Yeah. Yeah?! Heeseung just asked you a question and all you can say is yeah?

You could already feel his friend group burning holes into your head.

“My friends are coming too if you don’t mind. You know Hanni and Seojun. Danielle and Sunghoon are coming too.”

You grimace slightly, but try not to show it in front of Heeseung.

You were going to be surrounded with them.

When you arrive at his house, your jaw practically drops to the ground. It’s gigantic, almost seems endless with a giant front pool that looked like an Olympic swimming pool.

“Why the long face?” Hanni asks from behind you. “Never seen such a place so nice? Are you one of the scholarship kids?”

You gulp, not wanting to turn around to face her.

“Alright Han, drop it.”

Hanni rolls her eyes at Heeseung defending you. “What? It’s just a joke Heeseung, loosen up.”

All of them drop their bags near the maid, not bothering to look behind them as they settled into Heeseung’s kitchen.

“Do you need help?” You ask the maid. Curse you for being an empath, but you could sense her tiredness.

“It’s alright dear, it’s my job.” She gives you a small smile. “Thank you though. You really aren’t like the others.”

You smile sadly at that, hanging your backpack on one of Heeseung’s hangers instead of letting the maid do it like the rest of them.

“Heeseung! What did your chef make for us today?” Sunghoon leans back against the kitchen island. “Tell me you got oysters, I’ve been craving them.”

Heeseung opens up his fridge, sliding a bowl of raw oysters towards the boy. “Have at it.”

He turns around to you, his eyes holding a warm welcome. “Do you want anything Y/N? Sea moss? Truffle pizza? Wagyu with rice?”

You shake your head. “Water would be nice.”

Hanni can’t help but giggle at your words, leaning against Sunghoon.

You’re sure she’s making fun of you in her head. You’re just sure of it.

“Alright let’s talk about our project.” Heeseung takes a seat next to you. “I was thinking we talk about skin layers, including skin diseases that affect people everyday.”

You nod, listening attentively to his words. “I think that’s a great idea Heeseung.”

Within minutes, you could feel yourself needing to pee, thanks to Heeseung’s fancy water his parents had imported from Erehwon in Los Angeles.

“I’m gonna use the restroom if you don’t mind,” you say to him.

“That’s fine, it’s down the hall. Make a turn to the right when you reach it.”

You quickly walk over to the bathroom, giving a maid a small smile as you passed by her in the hall.

Meanwhile, Hanni pokes at the wagyu on her plate, clearly upset with something.

“What’s wrong pretty?” Sunghoon asks. “I thought you were really happy about the win.”

“I am,” she huffs. “It’s about Heeseung.”

“What did I do?” Heeseung asks, taken aback.

“What didn’t you do?” Seojun laughs loudly at his own joke. “What? It was funny!”

“I mean you’re defending that Y/N girl so hard! You didn’t even laugh at any of my jokes.” Hanni grumbles. “Like what the fuck is your problem? This whole new personality is seriously unlikable.”

The room grows silent, and Heeseung can’t help but let out a loud sigh.

“Look—I’m sorry Hanni, okay? I just don’t want to make her uncomfortable. This project is a huge part of my grade and I don’t want to work with someone that hates me.”

“Whatever.”

You swore the tension in the room could be cut with a knife when you entered, but you didn’t want to mention it.

“Now where were we?” Heeseung says, breaking the silence with a smile towards you.

Oh it was going to be a long night.

AUTHOR’s NOTE: think we can all agree mitski is heeseung’s favorite artist 😭

TAGLIST (closed) @cupidhoons @lilyuwon @soobeboobe @immelissaaa @coqhee @shuichi-sama @ssukiyakii @deobitifull @sunpov @anittamaxwynnn @minjaexvz @katarinamae @capri-cuntz @jooniesbears-blog @sakanelli-afc @lvlyjisung @cherlv @mnxnii @llvrhee @b0bbl3s @lwavander @glxzillx @txtlyn @heartheejake @realrintaro @wonyoungvirus @hyuckies18 @iriroha @jakeyloveer @thinkinboutbin @yoonjise @rikizm @cinnamon-won @samouryed @moon4moony @jakesfurry @yunjinhuhjennifer @viagumi @rikisly @rikisnotforsale @heart4hees @jjklvr9 @loviwon @rik1zzluv @skzenhalove @jaehoonii @j5yy @tnazips @taeyoonga @ezekiel-bublz @jakeyverse @wave2beom @maepjetl @urfavouriteanon

[gremlingottoosilly]

Cabin in the woods (yan!Konig x fem!Reader x yan!Horangi)

You and your friend group are definitely not a part of a typical slasher movie. Two weird guys you met at the corner store somewhere in rural Austria definitely not serial killers. You are definitely going to be saved. You are definitely not going to like being their little trophy.

TW: Yandere, Age gap(Reader in her early 20, murder husband in their late 30), Serial Killers, Mild Gore, Extreme dub-con(Bordering cnc), Blood, Horror, Kidnapping

CHAPTER 1 You meet two weird locals at the corner store in a city in the middle of Austrian woods. Your timid nature is going to be your downfall.

Come to the woods, your assholes-of-a-friend said. Come on, he said, I know that for someone like you, dwelling in some shitty forest for three or more days only to drink mediocre beer and probably have even more mediocre sex while mosquitos are biting at your vagina sounds like your worst nightmare, but! Have you considered it could be fun? 

Yeah, you have considered it. Considered it, thought about it and already decided not to engage with the idea. Spending the holiday in your own country, your own city and by your computer was far better than running around some random Austrian forest – and so you decided to kinda…ditch the idea. 

Considering what happened in the next few days, you really should have been more true to your words. 

Because you agreed to the proposition – because you don’t want to antagonize your friends, because you already feel strained from them, because they are assholes and they continue to be assholes but they are the only ones you have. Maybe you shouldn’t rot in your room, maybe you should agree to spend Spring break with them, getting drunk in the woods and maybe chasing some wild boars across the place. 

— Sorry. 

Some asshole – not the friend one, just an asshole in general, like everyone else in this fucking country that is so stuck up at being in the woods and mountains, that you are literally going to be sick – took the last remaining bottle of coke that was still left on the shelve. You were not having it because it was almost night already, the last remaining store open in the area, and you needed your sugar fix and something to mix alcohol with so you wouldn’t get drunk and stupid immediately. 

You aren’t letting go of the bottle. 

The guy doesn’t let go either. 

— Sorry, I think I got it first. 

You hate how weak your voice is. Never be the active, social one of your friends, you’re stuck being just a dumb girl who has literally everyone walking all over her. You decided to dig your heels into the ground and sent this asshole where he belongs – so, your grip on the bottle intensifies. 

— Haven’t seen you. 

He tugs the bottle back to him – and he has some arm strength, surprisingly for someone in this town. To be quite honest, you are too intimidated by his deep, annoyed voice to even consider looking at him, so you don’t know what the guy looks like. Maybe it’s an MMA champion – celebrity shop at some weird corner stores in abandoned Austrian cities too. 

— I am very sorry, but I really, really need this bottle. 

You don’t, actually. There are multiple bottles of Pepsi right here, and not like you have a very specific preference for the drink that is bad for you. You just got tired of people walking all over you, tired of your friends that constantly getting you into their shenanigans without asking for your opinion and you just want something good happening to you at least once. So, you tug the bottle back to you, and press it against your chest, hoping that whoever this man is will get the memo and get the fuck away from you until you’ll get your pepper spray. Ah, right, you forgot to bring one…well, he doesn’t have to know about that. 

— What do you need this bottle for? 

— Important reasons. Secret reasons.

The man sneered and you finally got a good look at him. And…fuck. 

Tall, broad, maybe more on the leaner side, but you can clearly see his tight muscles that form this perfect, thin type of masculinity that makes you think about greet athletes and that weird webtoon you were occasionally reading because you don’t have anything better to do with your life. You lick your lips, nervously, suddenly aware of the fact that you wear some old hoodie, battered jeans, and exactly zero makeup – you were supposed to get chased by the bears in the forest, not a meet-cute annoying strangers. 

He is Korean if little doodles on his jacket and an accent are saying the truth. You force yourself to get your gaze away from the mask that was covering more than half of his face, black glasses that obstruct the view even more, and messy black hair – the only thing about his appearance that you can actually see. 

Maybe, it’s good that you can’t see his face – you need to get out of here, preferably with a bottle of coke and some other snacks before your friends start questioning why the only person who didn’t want to go is so reluctant about leaving the store. Besides, it’s already almost closing time and you need to gather your thoughts. With a deep sigh, you push the bottle closer to you. 

But this time, he didn’t humor you with softness. He kept it close to himself and suddenly, you are very aware of how much weaker you are than him. You could put up a good fight against a mouse, maybe, a squirrel on a good day – but in this tugging match, you were no, pun intended, match for him. You look closely at his cargo jacket – the patches look official, normal, making you think about the military and what the fuck Korean soldier is doing in the small town somewhere in the rural, touristy-foresty-mountainy part of Austria. 

— Please, sir, it’s getting silly. 

— Yes, it is. Give up now. 

He has that weird calmness in his voice – a low grumble that makes you shiver, the urge to just give up your control and present him your neck like a good pet makes you want to vomit. God, it’s humiliating – you just hope that your friends won’t be here to witness your utter humiliation. 

— I really, really need this bottle. Please? 

You master your best puppy eyes, looking at him with a half-lidded gaze, hoping he has at least a somewhat working and aching heart inside of his lean, muscular chest. The dark glasses of his don’t allow you to see his face clearly, but you can feel how he slowly eyes you from head to toe, slowing down at how much your hands are trembling at the confrontation. 

In a normal situation, you would give up already. But this isn’t a normal situation – you wanted to learn how to be brave, independent, and stand up for yourself in small things, even if your friends still going to swirl you around into making dumb decisions. 

— I was the first to grab it. Why should I give it to you? 

His voice is mesmerizing – you didn’t expect something as deep from a random stranger in the corner shop and here you are, embarrassed, cheeks heated because you want to ditch your friends and look at the random guy you just met. Ah, the tragedy of meeting someone remotely attractive and closer to your age – or at least looking like it – in a mundane place so that the horny thoughts would make room inside your head. 

— Because this would cheer me up really nice, sir. 

You master even puppier eyes – and you lick your lips some more, hoping to elongate the point of how shitty your day was, and how nice it would be, just to have a bottle of coke to cheer you up. Man lets go of a grumpy noise, shaking his head. 

“Fucking tourists” he mutters – and you feel even more embarrassed immediately. If anything, he is probably a tourist too! 

— Sir? So the coke-stealer has manners after all. 

His laugh is dry, and you want to take the bottle and leave – but when you yank it closer, he doesn’t let go. If anything, he grabs it even firmer, thin plastic deforms under his touch, and the tactical gloves he is wearing are only empathizing with the vast difference between you and him. 

— I’m not a coke-stealer. I had dibs on this bottle. 

He stares at you, tilting his head to the side. You look stubborn, like an angry little kitten – and, god fucking dammit, Horangi loved cats. Always wanted to get one or two, adorable furballs that would lay on him and Konig, maybe destroy the wildlife around their house. he loved cats and never had time to take care of them because of their combined jobs – so when he looks at this stubborn little woman – little more in her posture than actual size – he feels all the desire to take a kitten home gets straight into his pants. 

He has to find Konig. Ah, and get the bottle back. 

— Dibs don’t matter if you can’t even hold it. So, the bottle is mine. 

— Sir, if anything, this bottle can’t belong to you yet. You haven’t paid for it! 

— You too. 

— But I will. 

— Just as I am. 

He chuckles, more amused than anything. You look angry, you look pissed, you munch on your lower lip nervously because you don’t want this man to walk all over you, but you also really want his – it belongs to the state, actually – coke. So, you yank it one last time, already preparing to give up and drink Pepsi as the loser woman you are. 

Instead, the bottle goes right into your hand with ease – and you fall on your back, losing the connection between your legs and the ground. You prepare to fall and crack your head on the floor, just like a wet kitten of a person you are. 

Instead, you stumble into…something. You want to say that it’s something soft, maybe a snack aisle or the pillows that are being sold in this store for some reason, but this mysterious “something” under your cheek is firm, tense and warm. 

Just like in the worst romantic comedies you ever saw, you are crushed into a broad male’s chest. Don’t mess it up with another man’s broad chest, those are actually two very different individuals and the concentration of pecks on the square meter already makes you feel uneasy. You bite your lips nervously, wanting nothing more but to disappear – you finally have the bottle in your hands and you can swiftly retreat to the cashier on the other side of the shop, but the man behind you stops you. 

— What’s going on, Tigeren? 

Ah, good. The wall of muscles behind you smells of generic male deodorant and something metallic – and has the voice of a Greek god mixed with the most stereotypical Austrian accent ever. Not like you are an expert on accents or voices or tones because you’re not sure that Greek gods would have such high and grumbling voices, but you stand not corrected, drowning in your bad decisions. 

You feel the firm hold on your shoulder gently put you away slightly, as the man comes to touch the asshole’s hand. Softly, gently, you want someone to touch you like this. You lift your gaze from the pair and…

Did you miss a Halloween party with the tough rule of wearing a mask all the time, even when you’re going out to grab some more snacks? You lower your gaze from the man who also wears a generic black mask and dark glasses, your eyes slowly go down to his pants and…

Did you miss a horse-riding party? 

— Some tourist tried to steal my coke. Nothing, Ko. 

— I’m not a tourist. 

You mumble, under your breath. You don’t want to be here – the area suddenly becomes intoxicating, you feel out of place and you want to run away as fast as possible but the only thing you can do is to just strive on, hoping that you’d at least keep your beverage with you. You take a step to the side, hoping to retreat quietly, like a ninja – but they both notice and turn to your side immediately. 

— This is a dangerous place, lady. 

The tall guy – well, they are both tall, but the second one is fucking enormous, towering over the shelves and making you feel insignificant compared to him – grumbles it gently, almost carefully. You are inclined to listen to him, taking up his words like a damned prophecy. You know this place is dangerous – it’s a forest in the mountains of Austria, of course, it is dangerous, you tried to tell your friends this, but…well, to no avail. Useless as usual. 

— I’m aware, thank you. Can I…excuse me, I will leave now. 

— With my coke. 

Korean guy snorts, the clear amusement in his voice. You don’t like the way he emphasizes the point of you stealing it from him – you both are entitled to it, if anything, he is the weird one to think that he has some special dibs for this. The bottle is already warmed up from your combined touches and you groan from the fact – now you will have to choke on the warm cola while all of your friends have fun with their dumb alcohol cocktails and ice cubes and everything you forgot to bring because you were the last one to get here. Because you were the last one they asked to join – feeling like an afterthought, you lick your lips nervously. 

— Of course. The one you wrestled out of my hold. 

— You let go of it, sir. 

— Didn’t want to make a scene with a little thing like you. 

You feel the tips of your ears burning. Oh, how you wanted to punch both of them – the tall one and the slightly less tall one, both chuckling like a pair of grannies on the porch. Like this fucking place needed more bears. 

— You should be careful around these parts. Weird things going around. 

The mountain has spoken again – weird, but all of his phrases feel more like something straight up from a horror movie. Combined with the eerie dim light of the tiny store and his mask, it sent a shiver down your spine. Gosh, you need to watch fewer horror movies and read less terrible dark romance books. You are jumpy, nervous, anxious, everything that doesn’t combine well with a forest trip. 

You take a step back and the blue eyes follow you. When did he take off his sunglasses? Why do they both need sunglasses at night? 

He looks at you and, fucks sake, you stumble into the aisle again. With a bottle of coke in your hand, which isn’t the best weapon in the world, you stumble to the cashier. 

Cold gaze follows you. Oh, how he follows you. 

You nervously bring the coke bottle to the old man behind the counter, listening to the tired German speech – you recognize the numbers, memorize the price of a single bottle, and yet…you feel the eyes glue to your back as you desperately rummage through your pockets. You swear to god that you had cash on you this exact morning – but you go through your pockets, through your backpack, and try to search for maybe some old cents and cards. 

Nothing. 

God, you feel like a failure – embarrassed that you wasted so much time trying to get this bottle only to put it back on the shelf in defeat and…

— On me. Move your ass, tourist. 

The Korean guy notches your side and you glare at him with a mix of anger and shame – he pays for the bottle, probably grinning from how well he taught this annoying as fuck tourist a lesson, and also for the few snacks he bought, probably for himself and his…friend? Boyfriend? 

You move your ass obediently, going out of the store, and your head hangs low in defeat. Your friends are smoking outside, everyone is visibly annoyed with how long it took you only to go out empty-handed. Jenny, one of your girlfriends, a tall brunette with a perfect fucking body that shouldn’t belong to someone in the real world and not 90-era comedies, looks…worried. 

You went to ask her what was wrong, but she shook her head, looking somewhere behind you. 

You stare at the ground, watching as your shriveled shadow from the single-store light swiftly being absorbed by someone’s much larger frame. You gulp, not wanting to look behind you, knowing what – or who – you might want. 

Tall guy with a…coke bottle? Well, you weren’t expecting that. He gives you the bottle and you can almost see the condescending smile on his face as his fingers linger on your hand for longer than they should be. You take the offer, not really understanding what the fuck is really going on. 

— Thank…you? 

— No problem, kleine. 

You can hear the smile in his voice and your hands are trembling. Jenny looks at you with surprise, clearly not expecting nerdy ol’ you to pull someone so…well, not nerdy and maybe old. 

— What the fuck? Who is…

— I’ll explain in the car, alright? 

— Did you drop it or something? 

— I…I think I lost my wallet. Have you seen it? 

She stops for a second, thinking. There are a few things Jenny is good at – burning the tip of her tongue with a lighter, wearing crop tops, eating men alive (unless they are the most annoying ones alive). Lying isn’t one of them – not because she is a good person, but because she would rather flip your shit upside down and make you as upset as she possibly could. 

— Chad took it. Said you’d find the nearest bus to get the fuck out of here if you’d have it. 

He…

You can’t fucking believe this. All this humiliation because her annoying boyfriend didn’t want you to ruin this little unfriendly gathering. You feel angry tears in the corners of your eyes, almost ready to sniffle like the needy thing you are. God, you’re weak and pathetic and…

The Austrian guy behind you coughs, attracting attention. 

— Ladies like you shouldn’t go out this late. Bad things might happen. 

Jenny snorted and you already wanted to close your eyes. She was clearly not having it and she had a very short temper – you take a step back, towards her, hoping to set her down. Instead, she took one look at your pleading expressions, and it made her even more annoyed. She was never good with locals. 

— We’re getting out of this dump as soon as possible, sir. Didn’t ask for your opinion though. 

He chuckles and the sound sends a shiver down your spine. 

— Just wanted to warn you. Tourists are disappearing around these parts. 

— We’re not some dumb tourists. 

— Ach? You aren’t? 

Jenny fails to hear the amusement in her voice. You tuck the Coke bottle in your arms, hoping that they would stop. 

— We’re not a bunch of dumb tourists and we will call the police if you’d proceed harassing us. 

— Just wanted to give your friend what she forgot. Keep an eye on each other, ja? 

— We will. Fuck off before I’m calling the 9-1-1, verstehen? 

You feel even more embarrassed as she storms off to the truck where Chad and everyone else is staying, not even paying you a glance – too used to your sorry ass going right after her, like a lapdog that your other friend likes to bring everywhere in her tiny pink purse. 

You sigh, feeling horrible. The guy is creepy. Tall, looming over everyone, both of them are fucking terrifying – but they paid for the coke and the Austrian one is genuinely trying to tell you something. A bit paranoid, maybe, but you see the cargo jacket he is wearing, so he is probably either a paranoid survivalist or maybe a part of the military. You like having someone worried about your safety, even in more of a scary horror movie-esque form. 

— I’m…sorry for Jenny. She isn’t always like this, we’re just tired after a long road. 

— You were driving whole day? 

— We’re, um…on a trip. You know, a little getaway in the woods. Would have been nice. 

The giant tilts his head to the side. You just noticed that his hands are twitching a little, fidgeting with the bottom part of his jacket. You find it almost cute, endearing in a way – at least he is as anxious about talking to you as you are to him. You find yourself also fidgeting on the bottle, swirling it in your hands, never understanding what you should do in a somewhat normal social situation. 

— Be careful, kleine Hase. Like I said, it’s a dangerous place for young ladies like you. 

The way he said it, calling you a young lady, made him look extremely old – and made you feel even more embarrassed and uncertain about your future. Here you are, wasting your youth on shitty road trips to Austrian woods instead of reading horror books and watching romance movies. 

— Thank you, sir. I…I’ll keep that in mind. 

— Are you two alone on the trip? 

Alright, it was a bit creepy. his cold blue gaze bores in your face, making you feel small. 

— No, Our male friends are with us. 

He humms, almost sounding amused. 

— Good. Wouldn’t want it to be too easy. 

— Sorry? 

— Wouldn’t want someone bad to hurt you so easily. 

You smile. He is nice, even if a bit creepy – you nod slightly, taking a step towards the truck, since everyone else already got in and you still have a long road to the place of your camp. 

— Thank you for the bottle, sir. 

— You are welcome. Keep yourself safe, ja? 

You nod. 

Keeping yourself safe sure does sound nice. You can do it, right? (You can’t,  but you don’t know that yet)

[i-want-men-i-cant-have]

Yan!Slasher headcanons

[part.2]

Yan!Slasher who’s your high school’s resident book nerd 

Yan!Slasher who sees you in the library and doesn't think he’s able to breathe

Yan!Slasher who thinks he's about to have a heart attack when he realizes you're in the same math class. How has he never seen you before? He didn't think his vision was this bad.

Yan!Slasher who starts accidentally overhearing your conversations with your classmates.

Yan!Slasher who once heard that you like athletic guys, decides he needs a complete makeover.

Yan!Slasher who begins working out and makes sure that by the time junior year rolls around, nobody from freshman year recognizes him.

Yan!Slasher who has completely changed with a more toned body, a taller and broader frame, and even a new haircut by that one celebrity you mentioned was hot. Don’t you love him he’s so thoughtful remembering what you said in the fourth month and second week of high school sophomore year in math second period?

Yan!Slasher who never gets flustered when a girl confesses to him, but whenever you pass by, his knees go weak. You just walked by him! It's the third time this week! You must really want him, and it's definitely not because he stalked you and found your schedule to see you every chance he got!

Yan!Slasher who nearly fainted when you showed up to one of his games. You're here? That's great! Now you can witness how amazing and handsome he's become, all for you.

Yan!Slasher who builds up enough courage to try and talk to you after his game, even though he's covered in sweat. But is he stinky? Do his armpits smell? He needs to make sure he doesn't smell like an ogre's morning breath and like a fairy's farts!

Yan!Slasher who almost considers asking you to a school dance but backs out when his friend suggests another girl. She might be curvy, but she's not you. Nobody is you.

Yan!Slasher who could only watch you dance, while his date mindlessly grinded on his thigh from the dance floor.

Yan!Slasher who accidentally ran into the girls' bathroom, preoccupied with the thought that he was about to die after his date got period blood all over his uncle's suit.

Yan!Slasher who almost screamed when he saw you washing your hands in the men's bathroom but instead stood stiffly.

Yan!Slasher who started to apologize when you corrected him for being in the bathroom. He swears he's not a pervert; he was in a rush to get here on time and only has one contact in!

Yan!Slasher who let out a forced laugh and a 'thank you' when you apologized for not being able to help get the blood out of his pants after crouching down for him.

Yan!Slasher who just now noticed the little details on your face and how the buzzing bathroom illuminated your features. How are you so beautiful? Why do you always make him feel like his heart is about to pop out of his chest when he's this close to you?

Yan!Slasher who decides to take his date for some fast food after the dance. He might as well thank her for being the reason he got to be that close to you.

Yan!Slasher snaps when his date asks why they're at the local Whataburger and not a fancy restaurant.

Yan!Slasher who asks his date if she can get the pack of condoms out from the trunk while he grabs the shotgun from the glove department.

Yan!Slasher who slams the Maserati Biturbos trunk on her body letting her stumble onto the ground so he could have a clean shot of her head.

Yan!Slasher who almost felt bad when he got a clean shot in between her eyebrows. Sure she was his first-ever date but she also got in the way of you and him and his future family of seven kids so of course she needed to die! 

Yan!Slasher who you don't need to worry about. he’s nice enough to bury her in a random ditch somewhere, with a Whataburger burger and Coke. How could you not love how fatherly and caring he is?

Yan!Slasher who overhears the colleges you applied to in senior year. Really? Those? They're so easy to get into. You could do much better than that, honestly.

Yan!Slasher who is convinced that your friends are holding you back. Do you really need them? They're taking time away from your studies. Without them, you could have been accepted into every Ivy League by now.

Yan!Slasher who decides to let your friends live for your sake. He's seen how emotional you can be, and he's worried that you might spiral and let your grades drop. After all, how can you both attend the same college if you're not able to get into one?

Yan!Slasher who of course, applies to those schools. Does he really need to attend Harvard Law? Nope, you silly billy! As long as he's providing for you, he'll go anywhere!

Yan!Slasher who sees you at prom with one of your best friends. Her? You've been making the worst decisions recently. Why go with her when he's right here? He's 6'3 for crying out loud. He's worked so hard just for you to go with your best friend to prom.

Yan!Slasher who needs to remind himself that you're just being manipulated. Your whole friend group is manipulating you. As if you wanted to go to prom with them when you're just so shy and have been madly in love with him this whole time! He's seen the way you glance his way; of course, you love him and are not looking at the board!

Yan!Slasher who makes sure that once the rigged prom queen ballots are counted, you and he would be king and queen together. What? You didn't put your name on the ballot? Are you just tired, of course you did.

Yan!Slasher who finally is able to truly smile for the first time as he wraps his hand around your waist and brings you closer to his body. They take a photo of you and him in your crowns, sashes, and a bouquet of roses that perfectly complement your dress and his suit, with a matching corsage that he totally didn't set up. Why would he ever do that? That's ridiculous!

Yan!Slasher who almost faints when you both get accepted into some random school he's never heard of. Yay, you'll be together forever! He can join a frat, and you can join a sorority. As you turn a corner at a party, he'll be there to catch you, and you'll recognize him as the handsome man you won prom queen with. A high school romance, how perfect!

Yan!Slasher who makes sure he gets at least one core class with you at his new school.

Yan!Slasher who stares at you in the only class you share. Why are you struggling so much? It's so easy for him! You should totally come up to him and ask for help. I mean, yeah, he’s a jock, but he also studies hard to be at the top of his class. He’s just amazing like that!

Yan!Slasher who cries and hugs his favorite plushie with a duct-taped photo of your face on it after seeing you talk to the professor after a class you had trouble with. Why would you ask that balding man instead of the hot boy you know from high school? 

Yan!Slasher who gets frustrated when he approaches the professor after you've left, but the professor says he doesn't have enough time. Does the professor have a crush on you or something?

Yan!Slasher who makes sure that he follows the professor home and slashes tires so he’s busy getting his expensive car towed while he’s memorizing the layout of his house.

Yan!Slasher who shows up to his house the next night and takes a knife from his kitchen so you can only smell whatever’s in the trash can.

Yan!Slasher who almost spills everything when you ask if he remembers you and if he wants to help you. Aw, you can’t ask for him to pay you because of student debt and loans? Don’t worry; why would he want your money when you’ll share a bank account once you both graduate, with him being valedictorian?

Yan!Slasher who creates a whole schedule for you because you’re so stressed and need to find time for his help. You really do care about him if you still ask for help when you have no time for it!

Yan!Slasher who now sits with you in that one class you share, leaning down to whisper answers or explanations in your ear. He even makes sure to freshen up, so you know he's not just another typical jock like the rest of his teammates.

Yan!Slasher who tries to build up the courage to subtly make physical contact, perhaps gently nudging your foot under the table or offering to lend a hand when you need to erase something. He wants to make this as romantic and casual as possible!

Yan!Slasher who after a month, sputters and blushes when one of his teammates asks if you're dating out of the blue. What-? No-? He’s just a kind friend helping with your homework? Please, go on about how you look at him! What? Who said that? Not him.

Yan!Slasher who has a frat bro who decides they need a party, and you need to be one of the first to be invited. Everyone just can’t bear how lovesick he is, always talking about you and how you glance at him in class with those pretty eyes of yours.

Yan!Slasher who sees you at the party and almost passes out. Why are you here? Is that a drink in your hand? What if someone poisoned you? You really need to be more cautious around strangers!

Yan!Slasher who makes sure to drop something into your drink when bumping into you. 

Yan!Slasher who talks to you, leaning against a wall, making sure to properly show off all the muscles he's worked so hard for.

Yan!Slasher who catches you when you start to feel dizzy and picks you up in his arms, taking you to his room.

Yan!Slasher who throws the plushies and photos he has of you in his room into a box filled with half-chewed pencils and blurry photos of you walking to class.

Yan!Slasher who untucks his bed and places you on it before tucking you back in and gently brushing away anything on your face. Are you already asleep? You must really trust him!

Yan!Slasher who decides it’s okay to maybe take off a few of your clothes and take photos of you. He’s so smart crawling into bed with you and taking photos! Couple goals~ <3 !!

“Sh, sh, don’t scream. You fell asleep on a couch and I didn’t want anyone to puke on you. Let me take care of you, ok?”

[ghost-proofbaby]

when you know, you know. (e.m.)

summary: air hockey has never been so romantic.

warnings: it's alluded to that reader is wearing red lipstick. not edited.

pairing: eddie munson x reader

wc: 1.8k+

a/n: a very late valentine's day gift for you all (and eddie). also, the fact i've never written proper mechanic eddie... what a shame.

“Yes!” 

If any of the nearby children flinched, you didn’t notice. You were too wrapped up in your victory, going as far as to partake in a terribly embarrassing dance on your end of the air hockey table as Eddie shakes his head slowly. 

“You definitely cheated,” he deadpans, a twitch of a smile nearly giving him away as he leans down to pick the puck out of the slot below on his end, “There’s no way you’re about to beat me in under five minutes, again.” 

You smile, lips painted red under the lowlights of the arcade as you lean over the table and taunt him, “Or maybe it’s just a skill issue. I wouldn’t keep beating you if you were actually a professional in air hockey like you’d claimed, Munson.” 

Three dates – tonight makes four – and you still hadn’t quite worked out how you’d managed to capture the attention of the boy before you. When he’d originally asked you out to coffee, you’d swallowed down all your excessive excitement just to answer him. The local mechanic that you’d been making heart eyes at every few months when you’d go in for an oil check, the one who hadn’t allowed the others at the shop to oversell you on a damn thing when you’d get your tires rotated. Who always smiled shyly as he’d bring you back your keys.

You’d figured the coffee date would last an hour if you were lucky. The two of you would spend more than five minutes in the same room together, he’d realize how overbearing you were, and that would be the end of it. Ridiculous crush effectively squashed. 

But it hadn’t. 

It had lasted hours, plural. Coffees finished and second lattes nursed until they’d gone cold, the outcome had been the exact opposite of your expectations. Your conversation had flowed effortlessly, common ground and common interests found with ease, and suddenly, Eddie was more than just some cute mechanic for your friends to tease you over. 

The first date had only ended due to his shift at the shop that afternoon. 

The subsequent sushi dinner date, and then the movie night the next week, had also lasted hours. 

“For someone who works on cars, you should be a lot better with your hands,” you poke gentle fun at him as he makes the first hit against the puck this time, far more careful than you had been when serving. 

“Or maybe I’m just determined to keep letting my pretty date win.” 

“And why would you ever do that?” 

Another hit from your mallet, the sharp tapping of your aggressive push ringing out over the sound of nearby machines. You don’t dare to glance in the direction of the ruckus, but you’re pretty sure someone has just won an exciting amount of tickets based on the squeals of glee. 

“I dunno,” Eddie pauses to shrug after he hits the puck once more, his guard dropping. You’re ruthless as you take the opportunity to shoot the puck straight into ‘goal’ on his side of the table. A straight shot, far too easy for your liking, but you still celebrate the victory with another embarrassing dance, “Maybe it’s because I’m into that ridiculous dance they keep doing whenever they score.” 

You immediately stop your little jumps, eyes widening, a rush of embarrassment heating you up from the inside out as Eddie’s eyes stay glued on you. The table powers down as he makes his way around it, feet bringing him right to you. 

You’d always thought Eddie would find you weird, or odd, or unappealing after that coffee date, but the outcome had been better than you could have possibly conceived.

He was an absolute weirdo as well. 

Fondness overtakes his features just like it had on that coffee date when you’d accidentally snorted at one of his jokes, and your heart flutters eagerly. You can’t believe there had been a time you’d only watch him from behind glass, trying to not get caught as you would blatantly stare at him as he’d work on your car. A time when you’d only see his curls up in loose buns rather than framing his face as they were now, a time when you couldn’t even shake his hand due to it being covered in oil. 

That had all only been a month ago, but you already couldn’t imagine your life without Eddie Munson in it. 

“Don’t go shy on me now,” he chuckles as he stops in front of you, smirk deepening the dimples you’d only noticed on your second date with him. He’d been too bashful the first date, ducking whenever his grin would grow too wide on you, biting his tongue on half the flirtatious remarks you wished he would have said. “You won, fair and square, so what’s your prize gonna be, valentine?” 

He also waited until the second date to kiss you. That had nearly killed you. 

“It’s not very fair if you let me win,” you whisper, unable to look away from his eyes. They’re a soft brown, a smooth honey, a nice sight for sore eyes. You kind of like the crinkles beside them, too. Kind of wonder what it would be like to wake up beside him, roll over, and kiss them – all before the sun ever rose. 

He reaches out and gingerly grabs your hand, calloused fingertips brushing your knuckles before he entangles your fingers with his. “Psh, who said I let you win? Maybe I just really suck at air hockey.”

“You just-”

You never get to finish your argument. He’s quick to swoop down, capturing your lips in his. The rudest of interruptions, and it still manages to weaken your knees. 

Each kiss only grows sweeter. And more confident, more sure. The first one had been timid, exchanged on your doorstep with boyish hesitation and meek desperation. But now, several kisses experienced since that night, all apprehension has melted. He lets his lips meld to yours, captures your bottom lip just tightly enough to give it a brief tug when he pulls away. Still soft, ever so sweet, and leaving you wanting for more. 

Four dates. All it took was four dates for him to make you a goner. 

“Now, that wasn’t fair,” you breathe out, betrayed by the smile that you wear. Your chest feels shaken up, impending explosion of mushiness and flowers and hearts and every single cliche the love songs on the radio could squeeze out.

“It was your prize.”

“I never said I wanted a kiss for my prize.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he puts a dramatic hand up to his chest, leaning back so dramatically that your hand instinctively reaches out to loop a finger in his jean pocket to keep him upright, “Would you like me to take it back, my fair maiden?” 

Four dates, and he makes it impossible to not imagine a future of this. Of silly banter, of gentle mornings spent kissing away crows feet, of cutting one another off with the most infuriating of methods. You’re starting to believe you’re just a hopeless romantic, and he’d spotted that from a mile away – he knew every single button to press to have you putty in his hands, and he was taking full advantage of it. 

You giggle, an honest to God giggle, as you say, “Hm, I’m not sure. I heard the return policies on those are a bit wonky.” 

If your friends thought you were insufferable when he was some stranger you just had a crush on, they would be vomiting at the sight of this. 

He leans into your space, close enough to smell his faint cologne and mint on his breath, “Are they? Well, lucky for you, I’m friends with the shop owner. Can definitely accept the return without a receipt. It won’t be a problem, ma’am. I swear it.”

He’s weird. He’s goofier than you could have imagined, snarkier than you could have dreamed, and more romantic than you had yet to uncover. He’s kind of perfect, but you wouldn’t dare say that to his face. Not yet, at least. 

You’re glad you had said yes when he’d asked days prior for you to be his Valentine. And you’re glad he hadn’t gone the boring route, showing up with just chocolates and flowers and calling it a day, but had instead dragged you out to this arcade for a night of adventures as he claimed. 

“And how would one go about returning a kiss, kind sir?” 

He answers wordlessly, bringing up a finger to tap on his lips. He goes as far as pouting them dramatically. 

He wants you to kiss him. 

Lucky for him, you want to kiss him, too. 

Your kiss is more chaste. Teasing as you lift up onto your tippy toes and only press your lips to his for a brief second before falling back. You leave him wanting more – it’s written all over his face, along with a blush that races right over the bridge of his nose. 

He’s cute. He’s cute, and he’s weird, and you really fucking like him. 

“Now that that’s over with,” you have to change the topic, move right along before your heart truly bursts from your chest, “I know what I want my prize to be.” 

He takes a moment to recover, pupils almost resembling hearts as he stares down at you. Eventually he pulls himself from your trance, shaking his head as he asks, “And what would that be?”

You’re the one taking his hand this time. If he gave you the time, you’d like to learn each callous and scar by heart. Trace over them in the middle of night, when it’s just you and him in the darkness beneath your sheets. Memorize the way they feel as he explores every curvature of your body and figure out which of the roughest patches would brush against your most sensitive bits in a way that would make you arch your back right into him. 

The two of you haven’t even discussed if that’s where the night might lead, but you’re sort of hoping the luck in the air doesn’t run out. 

“There’s an awfully pretty ring in the case up at the ticket counter,” you muse, knowing damn well the ring was the ugliest thing either of you had ever seen in your lives, “Think you’ve got the tickets to spare?” 

His hand gives you a squeeze. Something not too tight, something perfectly comfortable. It’s only the fourth date, it’s only the first month – it’s only the beginning. 

“Anything for you, sweetheart,” he says, more earnestly than you’d expected, as he steals another kiss. 

You let him. You have this aching feeling in your chest that you’ll probably let him steal an endless amount from you for the rest of your life. 

When you know, you know. Or whatever the poets say.

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[kenobers]

Jason Todd Headcanons

just a few thoughts that help inform the way i write this doof. it's linked below as well, but check out jason's spotify wrapped if you have a minute! ;-)

Samsung User

Jason says he likes his coffee dark, but secretly orders flavored lattes (see that one Hozier photo)

Puts cinnamon in his coffee grounds

He may have good taste in books, but he's got shit taste in movies

Loves a few basic safe picks - Fight Club, Pulp Fiction, things you might expect from someone like him

But his "Watch Again" list is all cheesy action movies and wacky comedies. Mark Wahlberg appears a little too often.

Doesn’t watch a lot of television, but sometimes likes to fall asleep to Family Guy or South Park

Has one ear piercing he got on a dare, done by either one of his brothers or one of the Outlaws

Good gift giver, but only wraps things in newspaper

Really terrible about remembering to take his medication

To the point that Dick and Tim got him one of those every day of the week pill boxes as a joke - but it's actually been incredibly helpful

Is a regular at his neighborhood corner store

To the point where the guys at the counter don’t even card him anymore

He's the type of man to sleep till noon, 1:30 on Sundays

If he's sharing a bed, he will snuggle up to you in his sleep

Snores

Unfortunately uses 3-in-1 shampoo/conditioner/body wash

Has an high tolerance for weed, which annoys the hell out of him because he enjoys a joint but does not fuck with edibles

Every time he tries an edible, he stares at himself in the mirror for three hours and Does Not like it

Drunk Yapper

Beer Drinker

Doesn't always know his own strength

Not in the accidentally-break-someone's-arm type of way, but definitely in the sometimes-closes-the-door-too-hard-and-goes-"whoopsie daises!" type of way

Thankfully, he's become a pretty great handy man

Despite being a certified Car Guy, he did die at 15 and as a consequence is lowkey still how to drive a none military grade car (in other words, he's a shit driver) (but it's okay, he sticks to the motorcycle and public transportation)

He's not a hugger, but he is a leaner

Thrifts all of his clothes

Prefers to get his books from local indie/second-hand/new & used bookstores

But still has a Barnes & Nobles membership card

His bookshelf is not organized what-so-ever; it's started to operate as more of a gun rack while his books get stacked underneath his bed (he tells himself that this will make him get through his To Be Read list faster)

His top played song of last year was “Kiss Me Through The Phone” by Soulja Boy

His music taste can be divided into three primary playlists; East Coast Rap, Metal, Ear Worms

Is the family expert on the Gotham underground music scene

He isn’t big on social media at all, but he has a Twitter with like 15 followers he uses to keep an eye on whoever

(and also to keep up with music and book updates)

He’s occasionally very funny on it. But just occasionally.

Just Online enough to know who Trisha Paytas is, not Online enough to know who ClubChalamet is

He got his GED once he joined the family again

and yes, they threw him a little party to celebrate

Has the BatChat on silent, but still checks it regularly

Terrible texter; you’ll either hear back from him immediately or in three weeks time

“srry didn’t see this”

(he did see this, he just got anxiety about it)

Has a lot of anxiety about smalls things like that

Especially when it comes to the Bat Family

He’s not always sure where he stands with everyone - if they like him, trust him, want him there

Paranoid that they’re nosy because they secretly think he’s going to go rogue again

Has to constantly remind himself that they’re just nosy the same way that he’s nosy - because this is literally a family of detectives

[doodlingbiscuit]

Bite Me

Hey, first drabble I've finished! I have many more in the works, don't worry! :]

Rise!Donnie x Reader

Words: 3,760

Warnings: Biting, Slightly suggestive content, Mentions of blood Please let me know if I need to add more content warnings! I am still learning!

Donnie’s eyes trace over the curve of your shoulders, catching onto the slight muscle shifts as you reach up to put away the dishes. He can feel the need rising and tries to shove it down. He knows that it’s only a matter of time until he gives in to it. 

Donnie has never had a feeling like this before, being the least likely of the brothers to give in to his more yokai urges. Sure, hissing and growling came to him instinctually and was natural for him to do, but biting? He felt like that was something that he could not allow himself to give into. This was just another blaring reminder that although he walked and talked like one, he was not human. 

He almost considered locking himself up just in case these instincts delved into something deeper, he was quite familiar with the concept of other mutants becoming slave to their more animalistic side. But just before he definitively decided one way or the other, you had persuaded him to go out to a local cafe with him. He came out warily, expecting to want to bite every human he came across, but interestingly enough the instinct had dissipated entirely. He had celebrated internally, maybe just a bit of fresh air was what he needed to push the urges aside, he had been spending too much time in the sewers lately. Maybe it was just the sewer fumes finally getting to his head. 

Yet as soon as he caught a glimpse of you through the window, he could feel the urge to bite come back full force. His eyes slide over to another human, testing out the limits of what he was feeling. As soon as you’re out of his eyesight, the lessens but sure enough when he turns back to look at you, there it is again. 

Although he prefers to use his mouth as a metaphorical weapon, there were times that he had been desperate enough to use it in the literal sense. He had bitten and chewed his way out of many situations before, often getting out of them by quite literally the skin of his teeth. He had bitten to hurt; to wound, but the way he wanted to bite you was something else entirely. 

He had never wanted to bite someone so gently before.  

Donnie hadn’t told you about this urge of his, feeling too embarrassed to even bring it up. He didn’t even want you to know about it, hoping the feeling would pass without ever having to get you involved in it. This whole thing was so stupid, he was better than this. He had seen your shoulders before, it wasn’t like it was anything new, he had known you for years before ever getting into a relationship with you. But now every time he caught a glimpse of your shoulder, he oogled you like a middle school Victorian boy. This was surely just another instinct messing with his head and Donnie being Donnie could surely fight it off on his own. But after two weeks, it persisted. 

He was constantly chewing on the inside of his cheek nowadays, an old stim that had come back in full force these past few weeks. The mindless chewing satisfied him to a point but apparently, it wasn’t enough. 

You were both chilling on the couch watching some mindless video essay on the projector. The urge to bite was lessened when he held you like this but it still lingered in the back of his mind, and he was unconsciously chewing on the inside of his cheek to try to stave it off. You were cuddled perfectly into him and he was content to lay with you for hours. Glancing down to admire you in his arms, he goes still. Your jacket had slipped oh so very slightly down, revealing the entirety of your shoulder to him. 

In his realization of what he was looking at, the urge grew tenfold, and in his momentary loss of control, his teeth sliced clean through the inside of his cheek. He only realizes that he has bitten hard enough to draw blood when the metallic tang seeps into his mouth.

Immediately catching onto the way he had frozen underneath you, you turn to him slightly in curiosity. Not expecting his wide eyes to be staring back at you. 

“Are you… okay?” your eyes flick back and forth between his. 

Donnie just stares at you for a moment before shaking his head slightly, trying to clear his thoughts. He nods sharply once and moves to get up, softly shifting you off of him. 

You’re left to sit there in confusion, watching as he briskly walks to the bathroom. 

He shuts the door quietly behind him before quickly making his way over to the sink. Spitting into it, he watches the blood slowly trail down the side and into the drain. He drags a hand down his face and comes to the reality that biting his cheek wouldn’t work forever. 

This was not good. 

So Donnie tried to compensate in other ways. 

He tried buying chew toys, something that he knew had helped Raph before, keeping them hidden around the lair when he felt the urge to bite you. Donnie felt a little foolish ducking away from you and going to bite a chew toy instead, but… it was better than hurting you. 

You had caught onto his slipping away from you and he could see how it concerned you. Amazing, perfect you, had immediately thought that it was something that you had done. He was quick to shut down those thoughts, although he wasn’t entirely truthful as to why it wasn’t you. Unfortunately, his lack of an explanation still made you suspicious of him. He had the conversation with you almost two weeks ago now and you were still zeroed into every slight change in his demeanor. He was now more wary to sneak off in your presence. 

Which led him to this moment; chewing his cheek raw as he fiddled with scrubbing a particularly dirty plate. There was no way he could escape without immediately alerting you; doing the daily chore of washing dishes had become a way for you both to decompress after a long day and it had become a habit you both had come to enjoy. While he washed the dishes, you would dry them and put them together. Leaving now would surely make you think that something was wrong and that would start a conversation about Donnie’s behavior… and yeah, he didn’t want to get into all of that. 

Between keeping up a conversation with you and washing dishes, he can feel his control slipping away from him and chewing his cheek was, again, not helping. He stares into the soapy water, battling with himself before allowing himself a glance towards you. 

Across from him in the kitchen, you’re putting away a stack of glasses in the particularly high cabinet, one that you could only reach if you stood on your tippy toes. You take a glass from the stack and then place it up onto the shelf one by one. In the midst of your movement, there your jacket goes again, loosely hanging off of your shoulders. 

He bites down on his cheek a little harder, the pain from when he cut himself before breaking himself out of his reverie. Donnie sucks in a breath and forces his eyes away from you.

He’s only able to focus on the dishes again for mere moments before his eyes drag themselves back over to you. Before he realizes what he’s doing, his hands slip out of the gloves and he’s already halfway across the kitchen and out reaching toward you. 

Hands sliding across your waist, he pulls you slightly against him before leaning down into your space, his head hovering mere inches over your shoulder. 

Pausing to put away the dishes, you crook your head slightly to him. 

You say something to him in question, but his mind doesn’t register it, he’s too focused on your shoulder. 

Everything else fades to the background as he’s stuck in a stalemate between his mutant and logical mind. His mouth opens, blowing hot breath across your neck causing a shiver to travel up your back.

God, he can’t take this anymore. 

You’re saying something again, trying to catch his attention but he doesn’t hear it. You squirm slightly in his arms but Donnie only tightens them more. 

His eyes bore into your shoulder memorizing every slight muscle shift you make as he brings his mouth down closer. He opens his mouth wider, almost about to bite down-

“Donnie!” You say firmly, pushing against his embrace. 

You shrug him off easily, successfully breaking whatever hold his instincts had on him and turn to him exasperated. 

“What has gotten into you?”

Donnie stands there, at a loss for words. 

Which rarely happens to him, he often seems to have way too many.

He fumbles with his words, “I uh-.”

You stand there expectantly waiting for him to talk. 

Donnie’s mouth opens and closes like a fish before just stopping entirely. 

“We can’t just keep dancing around each other like this.” You huff out, “There is obviously something wrong with you and I think it’s reasonable enough to want to know why.” 

You cross your arms one over the other as you look at him, muscles shifting slightly beneath your skin.

Unfortunately, this means Donnie is distracted once more by you. 

Focus, Donnie.

They’re expecting an answer. 

Donnie’s mouth opens once again to respond. “I-”

“And don’t try to explain it away this time. You might be smarter than me, but that doesn’t mean I’m dumb.” 

“I never said that.” He bristles at the implication. “You sure imply it when you won’t trust me with what you’re going through.” You bite out. 

His eyes drop down to your shoulder once more, before flicking back up to meet your gaze.

“I want to bite you.” He blurts out. 

You take an ever so slight step backwards from him and he feels his heart drop into his stomach. 

“You want to what?” 

It’s not entirely an accusatory statement and he’s sure that you’re only asking for clarification but he can only feel the dread of what he’s about to explain to you creeping up on him.  

“I want to… bite you,” he repeats.

It all suddenly seems so real when Donnie says it out loud and it leaves an uncomfortable feeling on his tongue. He wants desperately to be rid of it. 

“That’s why I’ve been acting all weird.” His face scrunches up in frustration with himself and he taps his palm against his forehead. 

“My mutant instincts are messing with my mind. You know when people get cuteness aggression; when they like something so much their brain doesn’t know what to do with itself and instead counteracts it with something negative. Well,” He swallows. “I think that’s what’s happening to me… with you.”

You both stand there for an agonizing couple of beats before the sentence fully registers in your mind. 

“Oh. Oh...” You huff out a laugh in relief. “That’s what all of this has been about? I was beginning to think that you didn’t like me anymore.”

“What? No! This is the turtle side of me saying I want to be near you… though not in the most productive way, I might add.” He murmurs the last part out. 

“Donnie, why wouldn’t I understand this part of you?” Stepping forward, you take his hands into yours, softly laughing. “I mean you already purr and hiss like a cat.”

Donnie takes a little offense at the comment, but it's hard to hide the smile creeping up from the corner of his lips. He’s just glad that you’re still joking with him. 

“It’s called ‘churring’, thank you very much.”

“Yeah, uh huh. You overgrown cat.” You smile playfully at him before turning a bit more serious. “When I got into this relationship, I wasn’t expecting you to be human, I don’t need you to be human. I need you to be Donnie.” 

He squeezes your hand and nods.

 “I know, I know.” He murmurs, leaning forward to place a kiss on your forehead.  “But I am sorry for keeping it hidden from you, I’m just afraid of-”

“Hurting me?” You finish his sentence. “I don’t think you could ever hurt me on purpose.”

“I’ve tried to distract myself from it with other things but I have yet to try… giving in. It might go away if I can.” Donnie clears his throat before looking to the side, feeling a blush start to bloom on his cheeks. “If that is something you would be interested in.”

“I might” You smile playfully. “...How do you feel right now?”

Donnie thinks for a moment, the urge is still there but it’s lessened considerably.

“I think-” He swallows. “I think I’m okay for now.”

“Next time this urge happens, please let me know. I’m fine with it, but I just need a warning, you know?”

His instincts had given him a much-needed break for the rest of the day and he was able to act normal (well Donnie’s usual normal anyway) for the rest of the day. After finishing up the chores in the kitchen you both had gone through the motions of the day before finally settling into bed. Donnie’s body was curled around you as the big spoon and you both watched whatever videos that happened across your phone. Both of you had fallen into a sort of trance as you both watched the screen and Donnie could feel sleep beginning to tug at his eyelids. 

But of course, there was that feeling again. 

Donnie's head falls against your back in defeat as he can feel the urge to bite you rising again. He really didn’t want to ruin this moment with you, but you had said that you wanted him to be more honest with you… and that was something he could honor. 

Donnie props himself up onto one of his forearms and leans slightly over you so that he can see your face a bit more clearly. He murmurs your name softly and you murmur back in response. 

“Can I…?” He leaves the rest of the question in the air. 

You turn your head a bit more to look at him and set down your phone, the sleep in your gaze slowly wearing off as you recognize what he’s asking you. 

“O-oh. Yes, of course.” You adjust a little bit in his hold before asking hesitantly, “Do I need to do something?”

He slowly shakes his head. 

“No, I don’t think so. Just tell me as soon as I go too far.” He murmurs out, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Okay.” You murmur back.

He wraps his arms around you once more, holding you loosely against him just in case you want to pull away before reaching up to slowly drag the fabric of your shirt away from your shoulder. Donnie breath blows across your shoulder again as he hesitates once more. 

“I’m serious. Tell me to stop and I will.”

You nod softly.

His tongue sweeps across his teeth as he makes a final nervous swallow before opening his mouth once more, going as slow as possible from him too, giving you ample time to tell him to stop. He needs to be careful with you, any fast movements from either of you and he could break skin. Although he wanted to bite, he didn’t want to cause you pain. Donnie’s mouth hovers for a few moments before finally settling it onto your shoulders. 

You involuntarily flinch when he bites down on you and Donnie immediately stops, pausing to see your reaction.  

“You’re okay, Donnie.” You breathe out, “Just… surprised me is all.”

He hesitantly continues, slowly but steadily increasing the pressure of the bite just up until the point where he is too afraid that he’ll break the skin. He holds the pressure there; just languishing in the moment. The instincts seem to have settled in his chest, satisfied and he pulls away. 

When he sees the bite mark, he can’t stop the involuntary churring reverberating from his chest, and dear god, was his tail wagging too? He didn’t churr often and when he did, it was-

Embarrassing…

You turn to him slightly with a smile creeping out of the side of your mouth. “Happy?”

He huffs through his nostrils and nudges his head against yours, feeling too embarrassed to admit that simply biting you could make him get like this. 

His snout nudges in between your neck and shoulder, planting a soft kiss there. 

You pat the arm that he has wrapped around you. “I’ll take that as a yes.” 

He peppers another kiss along your collarbone before maneuvering so that he hovers over you, now able to reach more of your neck. Donnie feels your heartbeat get faster through the kisses he leaves along your shoulder. 

One bite mark would deter off another Yokai, but it's less likely for them to see it if he only left one, it would be better if he left more. 

And you did say that it was okay for him to bite. 

He leaves one kiss along your neck, nipping slightly before pulling away, checking for discomfort. 

"Oh c’mon, Don.” You laugh slightly, allowing him to continue. “I'm not made of paper.” 

His churr deepens as he leaves bites along your collarbone and your shoulders. Your heartbeat picks up and your hearts beat in unison, tangling yourself into one. Donnie’s instincts demanded more and more of you only stopping when you let out a gasp. 

He pulls back, checking over your face for signs of pain. 

Your face is scrunched up slightly into a grimace. 

“Donnie, I’m okay.” You reassure him. 

He opens his mouth to respond and he notices the tang of blood in his mouth. 

Not his blood, yours.

His eyes flash down to your shoulder again, seeing red just beginning to bloom on your shoulder. The churring in his chest peters out as he feels his stomach drop. 

There it was, blaring proof that he went too far. 

“I knew this was a bad idea.” He murmurs to himself. 

He can fix this, he can fix this. 

He clambers out of the bed and starts to leave to get supplies. 

Sitting up in bed, you reach out to stop him but you’re unable to. 

“Donnie-” You start to get up to follow but he gently stops you from getting up. 

“Stay.” He says firmly. 

Sitting back down, you instead watch Donnie leave, making his way out of the bedroom before coming back with a first aid kit and ice pack in hand. He quickly makes his way over to you again, laying out the first aid kit before picking out an antiseptic wipe. 

“Donnie, I’ll be fine you didn’t even bite that hard…” Your words trail off as you watch his expression change into one where you know he’s made up his mind. 

He pulls the collar of your shirt down so he can look at it a bit closer. He feels a sort of pride as he looks at the mark, one that immediately sours.  

“You are never going to let me do this again.” He says firmly, taking the wipe out of the package. “I don’t care how much my instincts tell me to.” 

He presses it into your shoulder and you flinch a bit at the sting of it. 

There are so many bite marks… all of these will surely bruise. 

He busies himself as he cleans up the various marks on you, everything else fading into the background. 

“Donatello.” 

He pauses, he hasn’t heard you say his actual name in a while. 

You lift a hand to his face, softly guiding him to look at you. 

"Accidents happen. I knew it might hurt… you knew it might hurt. We went through with it anyway.” You drag a thumb across his cheek before letting your hand fall to your side. “I don't regret letting you bite me.”

Donnie opens his mouth to protest but you give him a look that makes him shut it once more. 

“If this is something your instincts are telling you to do, then there must be some reason behind it all. Just ignoring it obviously didn’t help last time and it won’t help in the future. If I have to get some love bites from you once in a while, I think I’m okay with that.” You say gently, “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me, and even if you do, I trust you.” 

Of course, you had to pull out the genuine love and affection, you knew exactly how fast that it takes him to crumble under that kind of pressure. 

 Donnie sighs, “God, I love you so much.”

He pulls you to him, leaning his forehead against yours. 

You laugh softly, “I love you too.”

Donnie maneuvers the both of you so that you’re sitting in his lap, the deep churring starting up again, although lessened from before. You sink into his embrace, enjoying the feeling of the reverberations traveling up through his plastron and onto your back. 

Donnie continues to patch you up, going into medic mode so you both sit there in silence enjoying each other’s company. Once finished with cleaning up the bite mark, he places a soft kiss on it and you let out a soft hum. 

He warns you before he carefully places an ice pack onto your shoulder, while his other hand traces circles across your other forearm.

Leaning your head back so that it's propped up on his shoulder, you smile up at him. 

Donnie is so focused on holding the ice pack to your bite that his eyes only just flicker over to yours before going back to what he was doing. His brows scrunch together as he slowly peels back the ice pack to check for bruising. 

“If biting makes you all lovey-dovey, I don’t think I mind it.” 

He lets out a huff of breath, that directly counteracts the churring’s volume that heightens considerably. 

He wasn’t going to admit it, but he didn’t mind it either.

“Donnie?” 

He responds with a simple hum. 

“Does this mean I get to bite you?”

[stylescine]

Harry styles and y/n getting married in Italy and y/n have a bit of a baby bump around 2 weeks pregnant with their first child together

this is just pure fluff and i love harry with a pregnant reader.

reader is around 3 to 4 MONTHS pregnant here!

Masterlist | Request

Words: 1.3k Warnings: just fluff

This was without a doubt the best day of her life.

Harry and Y/N had decided to have their wedding in Italy almost two years ago. The country had always been special to them. They had spent countless vacations there and she had been able to look over his shoulder when Harry was writing most of his album on the beach or in their shared home in the countryside.

They had tried out every gelato shop in close proximity and had made friends with a lot of locals a long time ago. Italy almost seemed like a second home at times, especially when the pressure and pain of every day life seemed unbearable.

Together they had arranged everything in an instant via phone calls and e-mails. It wasn’t easy to plan a wedding from so far away but that didn't take away from how beautiful it was in the end.

The wedding was a success and without a doubt the most beautiful day of their life. They were officially married now, on paper, and in front of all their friends and family. Now it was time to celebrate and celebrate they did.

But there was more than just the wedding to celebrate. Harry and her had been trying for a baby for a while. And then one day, she held the pregnancy test in her hands, sitting on the bathroom floor with her back against the bathtub and tears of joy streaming down her face. She could hear Harry cook downstairs, the TV playing in the background, and she knew that he would drop everything as soon as she would tell him.

Y/N told him as soon as she had been able to wipe her own tears and made the way to the kitchen. "I need to talk to you, darling," she said softly and Harry turned around in an instant.

He was wearing a big hoodie and sweatpants as he always did when he was relaxing at home. He had been home for a few months and they had used that time to focus on planning their future and their family.

"What is it, love?" Harry smiled, leaning against the counter behind him.

"Here," she whispered, her voice suddenly failing her. She could feel the heat climb into her cheeks as she handed the pregnancy test over to Harry. They had shared countless moments in the bathroom with a negative test in their hand, but they didn't give up and now? She was able to make them both the happiest people on this earth.

It took Harry a moment to realise what was happening as his eyes focused on the stick in front of him. "Two lines mean positive, right?" His voice was quivering and Y/N stepped closer, placing her hands on his arms. "Yes, darling," she whispered and her fiancé's eyes filled with tears in an instant. The pregnancy test was discarded quickly and Harry's arms wrapped around her. He picked her up with ease, holding her close and burying his face in her neck. "Oh my god, I can't-"

His words were lost against her lips when she turned his head and kissed him. "We're going to have a baby," she laughed, the tears rushing into her eyes again. She was sure it wasn't just the hormones this time – this was the genuine happiness she had been chasing after for so long.

Today, on their wedding day, it was hard to hide the baby bump by now. Her dress still looked absolutely perfect, the curve of her stomach definitely didn't take away from it.

Harry seemed to think the same as he approached her from behind, arms wrapping around her as his hands rested on her baby bump. "How are you two feeling? I hope you aren't too tired to dance yet."

Even if she was, Harry would take no offence in it. Ever since they had found out about the pregnancy, they were even more careful with their lifestyle and Harry tried to help her wherever he could. He was understanding of her mood swings and food cravings, always on track to help her where he could. Even if it meant running to the grocery store in the middle of the night to get her pickles.

"We're good. Not too tired yet," she replied and turned her head to the side to get a better look at her husband. A loose curl was hanging onto his forehead, but she couldn't contain the heat she felt in her tummy at the sight of him. How was Harry able to look this perfect all the time?

"Maybe we could check out the cake together?" He suggested as soon as Y/N had turned around to face him. Harry was wearing a black suit, all traditional. His nail polish matched her own and the ring on his finger seemed like it had always belonged there. "I think our little prince or princess would like that too," she agreed with a smile, interlacing their fingers and heading to the table filled with cakes and cupcakes.

Their wedding wasn't extremely big, but there were a good amount of family and friends here anyway, so they had made sure to have enough food for them all. And maybe Y/N would eat more than just one piece of cake now, given the circumstances.

Harry grabbed a piece for her first and then a plate for his own. "Let's go outside, shall we?" He asked and she agreed in an instant. There was a balcony overlooking the ocean as part of their venue and they had wanted to take a few pictures there later.

It would also provide them with a bit of privacy before the dance.

Harry opened the glass doors for her and she stepped over the threshold with her dress, careful not to trip. In front of her, the sun was starting to set on the horizon and its light was reflecting off the water ahead of them. They had chosen a location by the ocean on purpose. It would make for great pictures and the memory of celebrating here alone would make her feel all warm in the future.

She leaned her back against the rail of the balcony, slowly starting to eat away at her piece of cake. "It's so delicious," she hummed, actually holding back a satisfied moan.

Harry's lips turned into a pleased smile and he leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to his wife's temple. "Of course it is. You decided what it would taste like," he teased and continued to eat his own piece of cake then.

He was glad they were able to get a bit of time for themselves. It was great to celebrate with their families and friends, but he also wanted to talk to his wife alone every now and then.

His eyes wandered over her dress, down to her belly. He placed a hand on top of it, thumb moving back and forth gently. "I can't wait to start this next chapter with you, darling," Harry whispered, leaning closer to place a soft kiss on her lips.

Y/N couldn't hold back her own smile. They had been together for so long and now finally having a child and being married seemed like the right step to make into their future. Of course, they would have to navigate Harry's career and a child, but she had no doubts that they would manage it perfectly.

"Me neither. And I'm glad it's you I'm doing all of this with," she replied, placing her plate down on a nearby table before she reached out to cup Harry's cheek with her hand. He kept a bit of a stubble at the moment and it looked so good on him.

"I love you, H."

"I love you too. And our little prince or princess." Harry's eyes filled with tears, but she didn't worry about it.

Those were definitely tears of joy.

[apricops]

“It is important to remember just how vague much rule over Europe was until mass literacy, telegraphs and railways started to tie together regions and countries. The Habsburgs loved to look at maps, genealogies and heraldic shields, making sweeping hand gestures over these symbolic shorthands for their ownership, but there is little reason to believe such gestures had much substance. Apart from a few mountain and forest communities, nobody was left completely alone, but the sense of obligation to Vienna was often remote and convoluted, with innumerable local, noble and religious privileges making a mockery of modern dreams of unitary efficiency. Many histories tend to present a narrative angled from the perspective of the ruler. Most dramatically this is expressed in the term ‘rebellion’, a word which presupposes failure (by definition: if it succeeds then it is a change of dynasty). It is too easy to see a narrative where any rebellion is an annoyance, a drain on resources, a desperate piece of backwardness, and so on. But this is to take a man wearing a crown in Vienna too seriously and I hope to make it clear just how many perfectly reasonable arguments against Habsburg rule there were. Indeed, at one point or another (and repeatedly in Hungary) virtually everybody took a turn at being ‘disloyal’ and this should be a valuable clue. Joseph II’s war with the Turks went so badly wrong in 1788 because the Hungarian nobles would not supply him with food, because they hated him and thought he was a tiresome creep. As his vast army fell apart and he raged impotently, it is impossible from a world-historical point of view not to feel a bit sorry for him, but Europe is filled with groups of all kinds who are annoyingly insubordinate, and they should be celebrated a bit more.” — Danubia: A Personal History of Habsburg Europe by Simon Winder

Not to be dramatic or anything but this is one of the quotes from Danubia that has stuck with me ever since and permanently shaped how I view and interpret history; then as now, terms like ‘corruption,’ ‘laziness,’ and ‘insubordination’ are very often code for “refusing to cooperate with a terrible idea.”

[into-the-grey]

~Green Dress~ Noah Sebastian x F!Reader Fic (18+)

Plot: Celebrating Jolly's accepted visa, the band has a party, and Folio brings an old friend. Noah is utterly captivated by her, and when he realises he knows her better than he thinks, tensions start to grow...

Warnings: P in V, fingering (female receiving), going commando, public sex (kind of)

Fic Masterlist

Also: Y/NN - Your Nickname… I had someone ask, so just in case you were unsure I wanted to clarify

The house was full of people, alcohol flowed and music blared from speakers in various rooms. Fairy lights and a fire pit lit the yard, giving the place a warm glow.

Jolly was back in LA, and this time he was staying. The visa process had been a nightmare, but he was back and he couldn't be happier.

A couple of girls clung to him, chatting up the tipsy Swede while he told stories of what it was like at home.

Noah stood in the corner, watching the party while he sipped his drink. A few girls had tried to talk to him, and he had been nice enough, but he had his eye on someone.

A gorgeous redhead had stolen his attention the moment she walked into the party on Folio's arm.

She was beautiful. Her hair hung down her back in crimson waves, and her deep brown eyes sparkled under the low light. But her dress...

The gold chain glittered, holding the emerald green satin to her body. The fabric wrapped around her curves, hugging her tightly and scandalously exposing her skin. The satin plunged between her breasts, a hint of a tattoo peeking out, and it cut off midway down her thigh. Every move seemed to be daring the dress to ride up, but it never did.

He was enamoured. This woman was walking sex, and there was no way she didn't know exactly what she was doing.

Damn Folio...

'Who's your friend?' Noah asked as Folio approached.

'Who, Y/NN?' Folio asked, a smirk on his face. Noah nodded, eyeing the woman while she chatted with a group of girls in bodycon dresses. She outshone them all.

'The redhead?' Noah clarified.

'Yeah, that's Y/NN,' Folio chuckled with a nod. 'She's a friend, and I owed her a favour.'

'So she asked to come to the party?'

'Something like that.' Folio picked a beer up from the cooler by the wall, cracking the can open and standing to Noah's side.

The men watched her move for a moment. She was graceful and charismatic, and her lilting laugh carried across the yard.

'You know her, you know,' Folio said simply.

Noah looked to Folio, raising an eyebrow. Folio chuckled again, shaking his head.

'Her hair was brown, and she definitely wasn't dressed like that last time you saw her. She ran cables for a few of our local shows.'

'That's Y/N?' Noah hissed, 'the one that had to quit tour cause her mom was worried we'd sacrifice her to Satan?'

Folio laughed, nodding. 'Yeah, she doesn't talk to her mom anymore. Her mom kept ruining gigs for her. She's been staying with a friend of mine for a while, she really came into her own after she cut her mom off.'

'Damn...'

'Go talk to her,' Folio pushed. 'You liked her, didn't you?'

Noah stammered, his fingers tightening around his drink. 'I did, but back then she wasn't out of my league.'

'She's still the same girl, Noah.'

Noah balked, shifting nervously on his feet. Folio laughed, tilting his chin up and whistling.

'Y/NN!' He called, waving her over.

Y/N's head lifted, seeing the men hiding in the corner. With a smile, she excused herself from the throng of people and made her way over to Folio and Noah.

'Noah! Hi!' She said with a grin, 'I haven't seen you in years, how's things?'

Noah shot a glare at Folio as he heard the younger man snickering.

'Things are good,' he said, swallowing hard. 'Clearly things are good for you too, I didn't even recognise you... you look amazing.'

'I'll leave you two alone,' Folio said, excusing himself with a smirk.

'Nick, are you being cruel again?'

'Of course,' Folio told her, looking between Noah and Y/N. 'Ask him to take you on a tour of the house,' he said with a wink.

'Nick,' Noah hissed, his cheeks turning red.

'You're welcome!' Folio said, grinning and walking away. Noah flipped him off as he walked away.

'He's such a jerk,' Y/N laughed, stepping towards Noah. Noah swallowed hard again, trying to keep his eyes on her face.

'Absolutely,' he said.

'I think he's got the right idea though, it's pretty crowded out here and I think we have a lot to catch up on,' she said, offering him her hand. 'Why don't we find somewhere quiet?'

'You're sure?' Noah stammered, trying not to choke on his drink. Y/NN chuckled, her beaming smile disarming him. In her eyes, flecks of gold seemed to dance, entrancing Noah in her stare.

'You look like you need a minute,' she assured him innocently, 'come take a breather with me.'

With a nervous smile, Noah put his drink down on the small table and took her hand.

'I think I know the perfect place,' he said.

Noah lead Y/N through the yard and into the house, sidestepping around people and wandering down a dim hallway. He lead her into his office, closing the door behind them and savouring the quiet.

'Soundproofed,' she observed, 'honestly, it's a nice break from the noise.'

'It can be a bit much,' he agreed.

Y/N smiled warmly, leaning against the desk and crossing her legs at the ankles. 'So, how have you actually been doing?'

'Struggling, if I'm honest.'

'Me too,' she told him. 'I know we said it wasn't that deep-'

'It really was, wasn't it?' Noah admitted, sitting down on the couch across from her.

'Oh yeah...' she trailed off, looking him over. 'And you're not helping, looking at me like that.'

Noah chuckled, 'says you. You walked in here wearing that dress and I almost died. I meant it when I said didn't recognise you for a minute.'

'Really?' She mused, toying with the idea of him being dumbstruck. Y/N had always reminded him of a big cat in that way, she could be sweet and loving, drawing you in with her charm and kindness. But she had a habit of playing with her food, drawing out the game of cat and mouse.

Oh, to be her prey...

'Well, if the dress is that hazardous to your health, maybe you should take it off...' her eyes darkened, watching his expression closely. Noah felt his pants tighten as she stared into his soul.

'Are you sure that's a good idea?' He stammered, wanting desperately to follow her instructions.

'Noah, why do you think I wore it?' She asked, grinning salaciously. Crossing the room slowly, she sized him up, enjoying the sight of him squirming. Y/N lowered herself onto his lap and straddled him, her hands pressing him back onto the couch.

'Y/N...' he breathed, his hands running over the bare skin of her back, the dress leaving little to the imagination. 'Jesus...'

'Folio owed me a favour,' she told him, leaning down tantalisingly close to his face. She could feel his breath on her skin as she ran her hand up his chest. 'I told him I needed to see you, and he was more than happy to help...'

'You told him about us, didn't you?' Noah asked, his voice hitching as she tilted his chin up, her lips almost brushing his.

'Not everything, but he figured most of it out...'

'He knew what we were doing on tour?'

'Turns out we weren't as subtle as we thought,' she said, 'he saw my panties in your bag.'

'And now? Are you going to do that again?'

'I would, but I can't,' she breathed, taking his hand and guiding it between her legs. Noah froze, looking into her eyes as he realised she was bare.

'In that dress, with nothing on...' he stammered, his fingers brushing her skin, 'you're trying to kill me...'

'I might be,' she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his lips and twisting her fingers into his hair. 'Maybe I just want to see how you react. Are you the hunter or the prey?'

Noah moaned into her kiss, her lips sweet with the taste of her chapstick. Between her legs, he felt her warmth. Cautiously, he dipped two fingers into her, sliding them in deep and shivering at the sound of her gasp.

'Oh god,' she sighed against his lips, her muscles flexing as he slowly pumped his fingers inside of her.

'God I missed hearing that sound,' he told her as she rested her forehead against his, his free hand squeezing her thigh.

She grinned, pulling his lips back to hers and kissing him again. He nipped at her lip, chasing her tongue with his and drawing a moan from her. Her sweet sounds only added to his need.

'Y/N,' he whispered, 'we shouldn't, not here, the door doesn't lock...'

'No,' she agreed, her hands reaching down and unbuckling his belt, 'not here.'

She unzipped his pants and slipped his cock out, stroking it eagerly.

'Fuck,' he moaned, her hand running down his length and sending shivers up his spine.

'Don't make a mess on my dress,' she chuckled, thumbing over his tip.

'God, Y/N,' he whispered, sliding his fingers out of her. 'Push the chair in front of the door,' he told her.

With a smirk, she stood and grabbed the office chair, making a point to bend over and give him a show as she jammed the chair under the door handle.

Noah stood, reaching for her, guiding her closer. He could never resist her, the way she looked at him made his heart race and his stomach drop. He knew the answer to her question the moment she asked it. He was the prey. But, having her all to himself, and in that dress, was a dream come true. He would be her prey any day.

He pressed a long, lingering kiss to her lips, savouring her taste. He grinned down at her as she giggled mischievously. She was eager.

'Hands on the desk, baby,' he told her, turning her around. She grinned as she did what he asked, feeling him sink to his knees behind her. Her dress was short enough that Noah slipped under it with ease. She flexed her back, granting him easier access to her pussy as he shoved his tongue into her clit.

Her legs spread as she gasped, her arousal dripping on his tongue.

'Fuck, Noah,' she whimpered, her knees trembling as he tasted her. He chuckled against her skin, running circles around her nib and sliding his fingers back into her pussy.

Her breaths became deep and laboured, languishing in his touches, panting while he fingered her. His free hand rested on his cock, stroking himself slowly while she watched between her legs.

'Baby, you're gonna make me come already,' she warned, biting down on her lip as a wave of pleasure rushed through her.

'Then come for me, Y/N,' he commanded, only briefly taking his tongue off of her. He slid his fingers as deep into her pussy as he could, savouring the sound of her moans as she shivered on his tongue.

'Noah, fuck,' she whimpered, her pussy flexing around his fingers. 'Fuck, I'm so close...'

Noah stopped stroking himself, running his hand up her thigh and digging his nails into her skin, knowing she loved it when he scratched her. His name fell from her lips in rivers of pleasure, her muscles tensing.

The moment her orgasm began to ripple through her, Noah stood, his fingers retreating and shoving his cock deep inside of her.

'Come on me, baby girl. I want to feel it,' he purred, reaching around and rubbing her clit with his fingers. He pumped his cock into her in short thrusts, trying to keep himself from coming yet. He was far from done with her.

Her walls closed around him, squeezing hard, her first orgasm running through her body and sucking Noah into her. Her moans were music to his ears, bending over to kiss the back of her neck and fucking her through the fireworks.

As her orgasm subsided, Noah stopped, pulling himself out of her and turning her to face him. Her cheeks were flushed, and a smile graced her lips.

'Good god, I love you,' Noah breathed, taking her face in his hands and pulling her into another onslaught of desperate kisses.

Kissing him back, Y/N reached behind her neck, undoing the clasp of her dress. The fabric fell to the floor around her feet, leaving her standing bare against him in nothing but her golden heels.

Her hand lowered, gripping onto his cock again and slowly stroking, building up a pace that had him melting into her.

'Fuck,' he groaned between kisses, his fingers clawing into her lower back, 'don't stop.'

'Are you gonna come for me, Noah?' She breathed, tightening her grip on him.

'Uh-huh,' he panted.

'Not yet.'

Y/N paused, stepping out of her dress and leading him back to the couch. Noah followed obediently, taking his shirt off as he did.

She sat down, opening her legs and letting Noah position himself between her thighs before he plunged his cock back into her.

'Fuck you feel so good,' he groaned, driving himself in to the hilt. Y/N's eyes rolled back into her head, her back arching off the couch.

'Christ, you're bigger than I remember,' she gasped, her hand reaching for his arm and gripping his bicep.

'Can you handle it?'

'If I can't, I'll die happy.'

Noah grinned, diving down and kissing her desperately, drawing himself out of her slowly before plunging back in. Her soft moans tingled his lips, the taste of her breath intoxicating him.

'If you can't, you'll just have to think of me with every step you take,' he growled, sinking his teeth into the flesh of her breast, grinning as she gasped again.

'I'll have to give you something to remember me by,' Y/N groaned, wrapping her leg around him. Her fingers ran across his back, trailing up into his hair and holding him to her chest as he sucked on her nipple.

He hummed smugly, thrusting hard into her and feeling her muscles clench around him. Slowly he built up a rhythm, feeling his orgasm building as her slick pussy dripped on the couch.

'Jesus, Noah,' she whined, 'I can't hold out much longer.'

'Already?' He asked, smirking down at her.

'Uh-huh,' she nodded, biting down on her lip.

'If you come now, I won't stop,' he warned her teasingly.

'Then make me come and don't fucking stop,' she begged.

He didn't have to be told twice. Noah pulled out of her, laying her down and lifting her legs as he climbed onto the couch. He positioned himself at her entrance again, letting her drape her legs over his shoulders and digging his fingers into her thighs.

His cock slid back into her, earning the sweetest moan he'd ever heard.

'Oh god,' she whimpered, her mouth falling open.

'Come for me, Y/N. I want to see how pretty you look when I own you.'

'Oh god, Noah.'

Her body began to tremble and tense underneath him, her moans becoming stifled cries of pleasure.

'Fuck, you're beautiful,' he purred, watching her body flushing pink. 'Such a good girl, taking all of me.'

'Noah, I can't-' she cried, her orgasm tearing through her. Her muscles spasmed around his cock, but he didn't stop.

'Shit,' Noah groaned, his head falling back. Her slick pussy dripped down his cock, her orgasm running down his front as he drove himself harder into her. 'My turn.'

He picked up his pace, slamming harder into her until she had to cover her mouth to muffle her cries. The soundproofing may have been decent enough, but anyone in that hallway would know exactly how good of a time she was having.

Her eyes squeezed shut, her muscles clenching over and over, drawing Noah's climax closer.

'Fuck,' he groaned, 'baby I'm gonna come.'

She moaned under her hand, nodding her head and begging him to come.

'Inside you?'

'Mhmm.'

Noah's orgasm ripped through his body, a long exhaling moan falling from his mouth as he held himself over her, feeling the thick ribbons filling her.

'Oh fuck,' he breathed, 'oh fuck...'

Y/N's hand left her mouth, her lips hanging open while she gasped for breath.

'For what it's worth' she heaved, 'fuck I love you too.'

Noah grinned, laughing tiredly as her legs slid off of his shoulders. He carefully lowered himself to lie on her chest, pressing soft kisses to whatever part of her he could reach.

'I missed you.'

'I missed you too,' she whispered, running her fingers through his hair. 'And I have a feeling I'm going to miss being able to walk.'

'That good, huh?'

'Noah, baby, you got me three times. I'm truly fucked, in every sense of the word.'

He huffed an exhausted laugh, feeling her pussy spasm again. 'Only three? God, I'll have to try harder.'

'Any harder and I'll be dead.'

'But what a hell of a way to die...'

[seasidefae]

hellooo. i wanted to celebrate 100 followers somehow (thank you for following this yapper who can't drive!) i've been thinking about the carcar wag!oscar au A LOT. but since i don't have enough time and the creative energy to sort all these thoughts out into one 3k word one-shot right now, here are some more headcanons

welcome to the full throttle universe

i aged up oscar a little bit so they have a 4-year age difference. 26-year old oscar piastri, architect extraordinaire, with his passion projects that are mainly education and sports related. he also jumps at any chance to participate in pro bono projects for local charities in australia.

that’s how he met carlos, at a gala in madrid oscar wasn’t even supposed to attend but the company needed someone to proxy, kiss ass and what not, and everyone else was busy. oscar thought carlos was an obnoxious 1-percenter trust fund baby asshole who spilled wine all over him (accidentally), meanwhile carlos is the epitome of that one viral tiktok audio going “blah blah blah proper name place name back story stuff” while oscar is angrily whisper-yelling at him. the cherry on top of it all is when oscar complained about his expensive suit being ruined and carlos went, “i will just buy you a new one.” oscar almost punched him. almost.

oscar hasn’t forgotten about the whole ordeal even a year later when he and carlos met again at wimbledon. again, oscar got tickets from a friend and he was alone. carlos was also alone. unsurprisingly, he doesn’t recognize oscar at first. at that point oscar knows this is the rude guy at the gala but he’s aware that this is carlos sainz jr aka formula 1 driver carlos sainz jr. carlos is friendly and enthusiastic, talking in the general direction of oscar about tactics and carlos alcaraz. oscar blurts out, “i thought you were a golf guy.” that’s when carlos finally turns to him and recognition hits. (the attraction hasn’t changed either) he brought oscar to meet carlos alcaraz after, got his number, and the rest is history.

oscar first started appearing in carlos’ ig stories in the 2024 season. they had a year to really think about whether or not they want to commit. turns out they do. whenever carlos is asked about it, he just says, “oh that’s oscar” and redirects the question when he’s asked for details.

ig stories from carlos:

oscar’s ig is private, as well as all his other socials. he has like 50 followers, just friends and family that have been warned about leaks, so he has no trouble posting carlos.

ig stories from oscar:

has carlos ever slipped? the guy is tight lipped when he wants to. but mention oscar within his vicinity and he’ll have that smile that can’t be helped. people can speculate all they want.

oscar first started showing up to races in australia ‘24 aka 2 weeks after carlos’ surgery aka the race he won. oscar tried to talk him out of racing post-surgery but carlos insisted.

that’s also when the rumors started to really hit. like at first it’s a cute little thing that only 5 people have talked about, and the rest accepted the faceless guy in carlos’ ig stories and post as some rando friend named oscar. probably a childhood friend? his sister’s boyfriend? he’s not even tagged. but after australia, seeing oscar in the garage wearing the red headset, having his lower third be just “Oscar Piastri” when he appears on screen, and greeting Carlos at parc ferme when he won definitely raised some suspicion a lot more. it’s not like they weren’t ready for that. it took countless of meetings with pr people that oscar hated, a decision left fully in oscar’s hands and not carlos’ because carlos understands oscar’s need for privacy. “piñon and him have a lot in common.” going to the australian gp was more out of necessity. (for himself, considering he'll be sick with worry staying at home and wondering if carlos, who was 3-weeks post surgery, would fare okay. he just wants to make sure he's FINE.)