#mocking each other's introductions

[dismalflo]

how it starts

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader who like each other from the start ✩ 3.7k words

summary: you know Lily from a shared class, when she invites you to meets some of her friends, Sirius and Remus can't stop flirting.

cw: fluff, reader is a lil shy and insecure, the boys are very sweet, established wolfstar, pre relationship with reader

an: I really enjoyed writing this one and I think i might write a part two

You’re starting to regret agreeing to come. Lily, the sweet girl you met in an art class, had invited you out for drinks with her friends. She swore they were all lovely and that you’d fit in just fine, but the doubts are creeping in. You’re already late because of the bus, and being around new people has never been your strong suit. You try to remind yourself that the whole point of joining the art class was to make friends—backing out now would be stupid.

By the time the pub door comes into view, your hands are shaking. You’re certain you’ll need at least a week to recover from this, but despite it all, you keep pushing forward, determined not to fuck up your one chance.

Before you can even take in the atmosphere, you hear your name shouted across the room. It’s Lily, that lovely redhead you’ve been hoping would be your friend. She waves energetically, and you make your way over to her. The moment you make it over, she wraps you up in a big hug. Her warmth is a stark contrast to the cool night air outside.

"I’m so glad you came!" she nearly shouts in your ear, pulling away just enough to beam at you as if you’ve given her the greatest gift.

“Me too,” you murmur, offering a shy, nervous smile. “You okay?”

“I’m great!” she exclaims, spinning toward the group in a cramped booth. “Everyone, this is Y/N, the friend I told you about.” There’s a chorus of hellos, waves, and friendly smiles.

“You remember James, right?” she asks, pointing to a curly-haired man with glasses. You do remember him. He’s the guy who picks up Lily from art class sometimes. Always nice enough to offer you a lift, but you’ve never taken him up on it. You’ve never met a couple quite as sickly sweet as Lily and James, and you can’t help but feel a little envious of how perfectly they fit together.

You nod and give him a small smile, which he returns.

Lily guides you to the edge of the booth, and the man next to you shuffles over to make room. “Thanks,” you mutter, sitting down.

Lily continues the introductions, her enthusiasm contagious as she goes around the table, pointing to each person in turn. When she gets to the two seated on your left, her grin widens mischievously.

"And this is Remus and Sirius. Don’t listen to a word Sirius says.” She says this with such affection that you can't help but be intrigued. You look up at them, and your breath catches in your throat. They’re both strikingly handsome in different ways. Remus has that soft, almost ethereal quality, like the first light of dawn. Sirius, on the other hand, is all sharp angles and devastating beauty, the kind that could stop anyone in their tracks.

You can’t help but feel like you’re staring a little too long, and you quickly look away, hoping they didn’t notice the awe you felt.

Sirius, however, seems to have noticed. "Charming, Red," he says, making a face at Lily before turning to you with a roguish smile. "Nice to meet you, gorgeous." He winks, and you flush, unsure whether to laugh or run.

Remus rolls his eyes in mock exasperation, though there's a soft fondness in his gaze as he turns to you. “Please, ignore him. Nothing good ever comes from indulging him.”

You giggle, feeling a little more at ease. “It’s nice to meet you both,” you say with a smile. “I’ll try my best.”

Sirius grins like he’s won some kind of victory despite the fact youve just said you'll try to ignore him, his dark eyes gleaming with mischief. "You’ll fit right in, I’m sure," he says, taking a long swig from his pint. 

"Stop being a menace," Lily scolds, but her smile softens the words.

As the conversation flows around you, you begin to relax just a little. It’s easy to get caught up in the energy of the group. You find yourself laughing along, the tension in your chest easing with every passing minute.

But then, Remus leans in—just a little too close—ensuring you hear him clearly. You can’t help but feel a flutter of uncertainty with him suddenly so near, unsure how to react to the closeness.

"So, what do you do?" he asks, his expression soft with genuine curiosity.

“Oh, I work in a bookshop,” you reply, a small smile tugging at your lips. “It’s not exactly my dream job, though…” You drop your gaze, feeling overwhelmed by the intensity of his attention, avoiding the need to meet his eyes.

But Remus is persistent. He lowers his head, positioning himself so his gaze stays locked with yours. It’s impossible to look away now.

“What is it that you want to do?” he asks, his voice gentle.

“I’m not… I’m not sure yet, honestly. Still figuring it out,” you admit, shrugging as if to brush off the weight of uncertainty.

Remus mirrors your shrug, as if it’s second nature, and smiles reassuringly. “That’s okay. You’ll figure it out, smart girl.”

His words settle in your chest, a small but comforting warmth. You can’t help but smile back, grateful for his kindness.

Before you can respond, Sirius leans in, clearly unimpressed. “Stop hogging all her attention, Moony,” he says with a teasing grin. “There are other people here.”

“Leave him alone, Pads,” James adds with a playful wink. “I don’t know how you put up with him, Rem. Some bloody boyfriend.”

You're caught off guard, the teasing comment leaving you speechless. Hadn’t they both been flirting with you the entire time? You glance at Remus, your mind racing, before giving him a tentative smile.

“I didn’t realize you two were together,” you murmur, your voice too soft to carry over the buzz of the room. “You seem like a good match, though.”

Although you speak to Remus, it’s Sirius who answers, his grin wide and playful. “I’m glad you think so, gorgeous.”

The rest of the night passes in a blur of light-hearted conversation, the occasional laugh from you blending into the friendly banter at the table. It feels good to be surrounded by such warm company, and you do your best to push any lingering thoughts about Remus or Sirius to the back of your mind.

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It’s a few days before you hear from Lily again. You usually only speak through text, so when you see her calling, a wave of panic washes over you. You brace yourself for the dreaded conversation, certain that she’s about to tell you her friends think you're too quiet or strange.

But when you answer, it’s not at all what you expected. “Everyone’s been asking me to invite you again,” Lily says, her voice light and reassuring. “So, I just wanted to check in—did you enjoy yourself?”

Relief floods through you. You shouldn’t be surprised by her thoughtfulness; Lily’s always been considerate of your shy nature since the moment you met. “I had a lovely time, don’t worry,” you reply, smiling even though she can’t see it. “Thank you for inviting me.”

There’s a brief pause on the other end of the line before she speaks again, her tone slightly more hesitant. “There’s something else too… Remus and Sirius asked for your number. I told them I’d ask if you were okay with it.”

The unexpected request catches you off guard. “Oh…” You don’t know how to process it at first, your thoughts swirling.

Lily senses your hesitation and quickly reassures you, “They won’t hold a grudge if you’d rather not give it to them. It’s completely up to you.”

You take a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “No… no, it’s fine. You can give it to them. That’s alright.”

“Okay, I'll pass it along then.” you can hear the smile in her voice. “We’re all planning on going to the beach on saturday, i’d like it if you’d come?” and god is it hard to say no to Lily, so you agree right away.

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You're unsure of the hasty acceptance of her invite now, analysing the way your body looks in the one-piece swimming costume and denim shorts, laid out on the beach while everyone else is swimming. You’ve been trying to read, but you’ve been stuck on the same page for the last half hour, your eyes constantly drifting toward Remus and Sirius. Even worse, they seem to notice, locking eyes with you every time. It makes you want to sink into the sand and disappear.

Footsteps draw closer, pulling your attention up again, only to be met with the sight of Sirius, freshly emerged from the water, droplets still glistening on his skin. Your cheeks burn.

“You look lovely, doll.” He says softly, almost as though he’s trying not to disturb something fragile.

“Thank you,” you reply, your voice betraying a hint of insecurity. It feels like you’ve been caught in some strange game all day, a competition between them, each trying to outdo the other with compliments and small gestures. It’s overwhelming, but also, rather sweet.

“But I’m sure you hear that all the time, pretty thing.” You expect to see a mischievous smirk, but instead, he’s looking into the distance, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, completely unaware of the weight of his words. “Why aren’t you coming into the water with us?”

“I don’t really… like swimming?” you say, the words tentative, as if afraid they might disappoint him.

“That’s alright,” he replies, his voice soft and reassuring. “I’ll keep you company.” With that, he stretches out beside you, lying down just a bit too close, his hand brushing against the side of your thigh.

Your heart skips a beat at the proximity, and for a moment, you wonder if the warmth you feel on your skin is coming from the sun or from him. You try to focus on the book in your lap, but the words blur before your eyes. It’s difficult to concentrate when your thoughts are racing, and the rhythm of Sirius’s voice still lingers in your mind.

You glance over at him, catching the way his chest rises and falls with each breath. There’s something disarming about the way he makes himself so present, without any sign of expectation, just simply existing beside you.

Before you can muster another word, another figure approaches—this time, it's Remus. You don’t realize how tense you’ve become until you feel his presence like a shift in the air. He’s still wet from the water, though his movements are quieter, more deliberate. When his gaze finds yours, it's different from the teasing look you’ve gotten from Sirius. There’s something warmer in it.

“Mind if I join you two?” Remus asks, a slight grin playing at his lips. It’s playful, but his eyes are soft, almost knowing.

Sirius shifts, giving Remus a nod of acknowledgment, though his body remains close to yours.

“Sure, handsome,” Sirius says, turning his head to give Remus an easygoing smile. “The more the merrier.”

“What about you, dove?” 

“What about me?”

“Are you okay with us both interrupting you?” 

“Oh, yeah of course” you give him a soft smile that earns you a beaming one in return. 

“I was just telling her how pretty she looks, Rem,” Sirius adds with a sly grin, completely unbothered by his own flirting. You however, very bothered, pitch forward and put your head in your hands, embarrassed. 

Both of them laugh at your flustered reaction, amused by how easily you become shy. Once you sit up and finally meet their gazes, the words tumble out without thinking.

“You both look very pretty…” you hesitate, panic creeping in, “or handsome, whatever… you prefer.”

Sirius leans in slightly, his voice low and teasing. “I think ‘pretty’ suits us just fine, don’t you, Remus?”

Remus chuckles, his eyes dancing with amusement. “Absolutely,” he agrees, his tone light.

You feel the heat of your embarrassment creeping back, but there's something strangely comforting about the way they’re both so at ease with you. The tension in your chest seems to dissipate a little as you realize that, despite the teasing, they’re not mocking you—they’re enjoying the moment with you, in their own playful way.

Sirius shifts again, this time sitting up to stretch his legs out. His proximity doesn’t change, though, and you notice how his hand subtly finds its way to rest beside you on the towel, fingertips brushing against yours. It’s a small gesture, but it sends a shock of warmth straight to your core. You glance at him quickly, wondering if he meant to or not. But when his eyes meet yours, there’s a softness there, an openness that catches you off guard.

“I meant it, you know,” he says, his voice quieter now, almost serious. “You really do look beautiful.” There’s no teasing in his tone, only sincerity.

You blink, unsure of how to respond. The words feel like they’re hanging in the air between you two, heavy and vulnerable.

Remus leans forward, “It’s okay, you know,” he adds, a little more serious than before, though his smile is still gentle. “We don’t bite. Just… relax.” He says it in such a soft way that you can’t help but nod, feeling a strange sense of safety in his words. He gives a reassuring pat to your knee but his hand seems to linger for longer than necessary.

It's starting to become impossible not to feel at ease with the two of them, lingering touches passing between the three of you all afternoon. 

As the sun dips below the horizon, everyone climbs back into the cars they arrived in, and you spend most of the drive lost in a daze, staring out the window from the back seat. Remus is driving, his hand resting comfortably on Sirius' thigh. The atmosphere is calm, peaceful. Before you even realize it, the car is slowing to a stop outside your flat.

“Do you… do you want to come up for a cup of tea?” you ask, hesitant but not wanting the evening to end.

“If you’re sure, then we will,” Remus replies, his tone cautious, as if unsure of whether he's overstepping.

You nod eagerly, flashing a smile, and just like that, you're inside your kitchen, preparing cups of tea for the two men lounging in your living room. From the doorway, you can just barely make out hushed, frantic whispers. Although you can’t make out the words, the uneasy energy is enough to make a knot tighten in your stomach.

As you step into the room, mugs in hand, the whispering falls silent. The stillness only deepens the nervous flutter in your chest.

“Thank you, Poppet,” Sirius says with a grin, taking a sip of his tea.

Before you can sit down, Remus calls your name softly.

“Yeah?” you answer, your voice betraying the rapid beat of your heart as you turn to look at him.

“We wanted to ask you something, if that’s okay?” Remus says, his gaze gentle but serious.

You nod, your curiosity piqued, silently urging him to continue.

“Listen, we know this is a little… unconventional,” he starts, his words careful, “but we think you're lovely—”

“And gorgeous!” Sirius interrupts, his tone exuberant.

Remus gives him a pointed look before turning back to you. “Yes… and we were wondering if you’d want to—” He pauses, clearly choosing his words carefully, but Sirius can't wait any longer.

“Christ… Lovely girl, will you go out on a date with us?” Sirius blurts out, his voice both impatient and hopeful.

Your jaw drops in stunned silence.

The room seems to freeze for a moment, your heart hammering in your chest as you process Sirius’s words. It’s like you’ve stepped outside of your body, watching from a distance as your mind scrambles to make sense of what’s just happened.

You glance at Remus, searching his face for any sign of insincerity, but all you see is soft curiosity mixed with a hint of nervousness—just like you feel. You turn to Sirius, who is practically vibrating with anticipation, his eyes wide and hopeful. It’s almost as if he's holding his breath, waiting for your response.

"I... I didn’t expect that," you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. The words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them, and you instantly feel the flush creeping up your neck.

Sirius laughs, a deep, rich sound that echoes in the quiet room. "Sorry, I know we’re kind of springing this on you. We just… we think you’re amazing,"

There’s an undeniable sincerity in his voice now, the playful teasing from earlier gone. Remus, too, is watching you carefully, his expression unreadable for a moment before he speaks softly.

"Take your time, okay?" he says, his voice low and reassuring. "We just wanted to know how you felt, no pressure."

You open your mouth, then close it again, unsure what to say. A thousand thoughts race through your mind—about the feelings you've started to develop for both of them, about the confusion, the surprise, the fact that both of them seem so genuinely interested in you.

It’s overwhelming, but not in a bad way. It's just... unexpected. You think about Remus’s quiet intensity, the way he listens to you with such care. But then Sirius, with his bold, teasing nature, somehow managed to worm his way under your skin, too, making you feel special in a way you never thought you deserved.

“Are you… are you sure?” you finally ask, feeling vulnerable but needing to know the truth. 

At that, Remus rises and walks toward you, moving with quiet confidence. When he stops in front of you, he raises his hand, palm open, as if asking for permission. You remain still, and his hand gently lands on your shoulder, fingers trailing up your neck until they cup your cheek.

“Absolutely,” he says, his voice firm yet tender, no hesitation to be found. His touch grounds you, the certainty in his words a balm to the fluttering nerves inside you.

You glance between them again, searching their faces, before your lips curve upward. “Then yes, I would love to,” you reply, a blush creeping across your cheeks.

Before you can even fully absorb your own answer, Sirius’s hand is in yours, his touch warm and eager, as if he can’t bear not touching you now.

Sirius grins widely, his eyes gleaming with excitement, and before you can blink, he's stepping closer. His thumb brushes against your skin, and it sends a spark straight through your chest.

"I’m glad," he says softly, voice a little huskier than before. There’s an intensity to him now, something beyond the teasing bravado. It makes your heart skip a beat.

Remus, who had been quietly watching the exchange, takes a small step toward you as well. The warmth of his presence, both of their presence,  sends a calming wave through you. He’s not as brash as Sirius, but there’s something incredibly reassuring in the way he stands close, his gaze steady and gentle.

“You’re sure?” he asks, his voice a soft murmur, eyes searching yours with such care. His hand, still resting on your cheek, grounding you.

You nod, feeling your nerves slowly fade under their attention. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

It’s as if the world tilts slightly, shifting into something new, something full of promise. The uncertainty in your chest dissolves as the two men stand in front of you, their warmth, their sincerity, and their shared attention making you feel like you’re exactly where you need to be.

Sirius leans in first, his lips brushing against your forehead in a soft, fleeting kiss, the gesture as tender as it is electrifying. It catches you off guard, leaving your skin tingling in the best way. When he pulls back, his eyes meet yours, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

"Don't worry, doll," he whispers, his voice light but full of affection

You barely have time to process the warmth of his words before Remus steps forward, his gaze unwavering as he looks down at you. “Can I kiss you?” he asks, his voice so quiet, so sincere, that it sends a shiver down your spine.

The question takes your breath away. You can’t help but nod, your heart hammering in your chest.

Remus’s smile is soft, almost shy, as he leans in slowly, giving you ample time to pull away if you wanted. But you don’t. You want this—want him—so badly that the moment his lips meet yours, you melt into him. The kiss is gentle at first, a whisper of sensation, but it deepens as his hand shifts to cup the back of your head, pulling you closer.

The world seems to disappear, leaving only the feel of his lips against yours and the rush of emotions that swirl in your chest. When he finally pulls back, both of you are breathless, eyes locked.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, his voice soft as he presses his forehead against yours.

Before you can respond, you feel Sirius’s presence behind you again, his hand brushing against your back, warm and steady. He leans down, his lips catching yours in a kiss that’s more eager than the first, but just as careful. It’s a different kind of warmth—intense, full of promise—and when he pulls back, there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You can hardly catch your breath, both Remus and Sirius’s touches lingering like a slow-burning fire against your skin. The kisses, tender yet fervent, have left you dizzy and wide-eyed, unsure of how to process everything that’s just happened. But even in the overwhelming haze of emotions, you feel something undeniably special, something that’s hard to name but impossible to ignore.

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let me know what you think of this! <3 i appreciate all feedback

[kateschi]

where pride meets love

synopsis: in a u.a. highschool reunion, your husband is up next in introducing his family.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

⊹ ࣪ ˖ notes: inspired by @call-memissbrightside

the gymnasium at u.a. is alive with activity, filled with faculty, students, and heroes from all walks of life.

katsuki’s standing near the back, holding your baby girl in his arms, her tiny hands clutching at the fabric of his hero uniform, her eyes wide as she takes in everything around her.

his expression is a mix of annoyance—because honestly, this whole “family introduction” thing is a bit much—and tenderness, which only those closest to him will ever notice.

you stand beside him, your hand resting on his arm, and for a split second, you catch a glimpse of something different in his usual scowl—something soft.

you’ve seen it before, but only in moments like this, when he’s looking at the little life in his arms or the family he’s built.

principal nezu steps forward with a polite clap of his paws.

“thank you all for coming! we’re glad to have so many wonderful alumni here today. if anyone with families would like to introduce them, now’s your chance.”

the crowd goes quiet, waiting for someone to step up. katsuki glares around, crossing his arms over his chest, but it’s obvious he’s trying to look disinterested in the attention he’s about to receive.

it doesn’t work, though. he feels all eyes on him, even before nezu directs them that way.

you give him a small smile, teasing him with a gentle nudge to his side. “you ready to show your family off?”

he scoffs but doesn’t pull away. instead, his gaze softens just a little when he looks down at your daughter, who smiles up at him with those same bright eyes you both adore so much.

his chest swells, and despite his usual gruffness, his pride is impossible to hide.

you feel it too—the silent understanding between the two of you, the knowledge that this moment, in front of everyone, is just another reflection of how far your life together has come.

with a sigh, katsuki straightens his back, shoulders broadening as he stands a little taller. “alright, fine. let’s get this over with,” he mutters under his breath. but then he clears his throat, lifting his chin just a bit.

he shifts his daughter against his shoulder, gently adjusting her so she’s more comfortable in his arms, and with a look at you that says, here we go, he raises his voice for everyone to hear.

“this—” he gestures to your baby, her tiny hands reaching for him in her usual, curious way—“this is my kickass baby.”

he flashes a rare smile down at her, the kind that could melt the hardest of hearts, before pulling you into him with his free arm, draping it over your shoulders.

“and this here,” he says, puffing his chest out slightly, “this is my kickass wife, y/n. the best damn woman in the world.”

you catch his eye, and for a brief moment, it feels like the whole room has faded away. there’s only the two of you, standing side by side, as he proudly introduces you to everyone in his own way.

a few of the students near the front start whispering to each other, smiles on their faces. kirishima, always the supportive friend, claps katsuki on the back, his grin wide.

"man, you really went all out with the family introduction, huh?" kirishima laughs, his voice loud enough for katsuki to hear.

katsuki looks over at him, narrowing his eyes, but there’s no malice in his gaze.

instead, it’s just the usual katsuki way of pretending to be annoyed. “shut it,” he growls, but his hand tightens around yours.

kirishima raises his hands in mock surrender, still chuckling. “I’m just saying, you’re looking like a proud family man.”

“damn right I am,” katsuki mutters, his gaze falling back on your daughter, who is now gripping his finger as she babbles in her own little way.

his eyes soften again, a rare, unguarded moment that no one else seems to notice, but you do.

you always do.

as the buzz in the room continues around them, katsuki’s gaze remains fixed on your daughter, his lips pulling into the smallest of smiles as he watches her reach for his hand.

she’s talking—if you can call it that—her baby words tumbling out like she’s already got something important to say.

you can hear the quiet adoration in katsuki’s voice when he responds to her, low and soft, “yeah, yeah, I hear ya, kid.”

you lean into his side, the warmth of his arm around your shoulders feeling like home. it’s one of those moments where everything feels right.

amid the chaos, in front of so many people, katsuki looks just like the dad you always knew he’d be—strong, protective, and completely head over heels for the tiny person in his arms.

the crowd slowly starts to disperse, some students moving towards the refreshment table, others chatting amongst themselves.

katsuki stays still, barely noticing the shift in the room. his eyes stay locked on your baby, a tiny, content smile playing at the edges of his lips.

“want me to take her?” you ask, nudging him gently with your elbow. “you look like you could use a break.”

katsuki looks down at your daughter, his arms tightening ever so slightly around her. she stares up at him, her big eyes soft and trusting, and for a brief second, it seems like time stands still.

then, just as quickly, he shakes his head, but the fondness in his gaze remains.

“nah,” he mutters gruffly. “she’s good here. I’m fine.”

you let out a small chuckle and settle against him, your hand resting gently on his arm as you watch your daughter settle down against his chest, a soft yawn escaping her lips.

katsuki pulls her a little closer, his other arm winding around you, bringing you both in.

the way his grip tightens around both of you, the way his hand moves just a little bit to the back of your neck, drawing you in closer.

you rest your cheek against his shoulder, and the sound of the crowd fades to the background.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[noctiva]

Training Day

Toby Rogers x F!Reader [NSFW!]

This is a commission! Pronouns + names have been changed for your viewing pleasure! If you’re interested in something like this for yourself, hit me up once my commissions are open again!

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WC: 6.7k

Summary: Toby’s taken one of his fellow proxies under his wing. Looks to him like she needs a lot more training.

- commission prompt: toby x proxy!reader hatefuck situation. coworkers at best enemies at worst. have toby hold a hatchet to the readers neck during the act

CW: 18+ content, explicit sexual content, CNC, noncon elements, threats and violence, rough handling, semi-clothed sex, outdoor sex, semi-public sex, degradation, definitely toxic relationship, unsafe sex, creampie, sadism + masochism, power dynamics, lowkey dom/sub undertones, mocking, hatefucking lollll, toby and reader hate eachother and then fuck about it

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NSFW under the cut! Minors do not interact!

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Being a proxy is already a tough job.

Late nights, long hours, an erratic schedule, and a complete lack of free will. It’s the type of profession that no one would willingly choose to be a part of, if they could help it. And, if they were roped into it somehow, it would be a constant day to day battle of just trying to make ends meet whilst being pushed and pulled around by an entity beyond your comprehension.

It’s not something easy by any means, but most find ways to make the strenuous lifestyle a little bit easier to bear. Little victories. Glimpses of sunshine through the fog.

For a proxy like you, finding respite amongst the complete gorefest that was day to day life used to be an easy task. It was easy when you first began - staying far away from all of the other monsters you shared an occupation with. Keeping close to yourself and no one else, it was a breeze to mindlessly drag your feet through the day, just to curl up in bed and do it all over again when the sun rose.

It was glamorous. It wasn’t luxury. But, it was tolerable.

Or, at least it used to be.

Two weeks into being a proxy, your little bubble of solitude was broken. Violently popped by a force so obnoxious, so erratic, that you found herself scrunching your nose up in distaste before the perpetrator even opened their mouth for an introduction.

”H-hey.” He had approached her while you were sat outside your cabin, sewing up a ripped patch in the pair of jeans she was wearing. Now more patches than untainted material, something the man had raised a judging eyebrow at on first glance. “You’re a b-bit of a recluse, aren’t ya’?”

What an amazing first impression.

You could still remember what he had looked like when you first laid eyes on him up close. Shaggy, messy brown hair pushed off of his forehead by a pair of cracked orange goggles. What looked to be a mouth guard hung around his neck, leaving his face completely bare for her viewing. Scarred horribly, like somebody had thrown him through a woodchipper and tugged him back out. A slash in his eyebrow, a crooked nose that looked as if it never healed properly from a fracture. But, the cherry on top was definitely the gash tearing through the left half of his face.

Staring at the corner of his lips and stretching up towards his cheekbone, it was a gnarly sight. Flesh torn from gums to reveal a row of chipped back molars - visibly not properly taken care of, the skin around it jagged and torn.

“What do you want?” Were the first words you had ever spoke to him, each letter packed with as much annoyance as you could muster up.

You knew who he was. Everyone did. Toby rogers. The boss’s golden boy. Some six foot tank of a man who could take the hardest hits, and deal back even more lethal ones in return. He got the hardest missions, had the largest kill count under his belt, and - he had let it get to his head. Leaning into the fact that he was a chosen favourite by some eldritch entity like it was a blessing, not an absolutely abhorrent title to uphold.

You didn’t like him. Hadn’t even met him before you came up with that conclusion. You had seen him work before, trailing behind him, Tim, and Brian when you were still a greenie, learning from them before you went on your own missions. Watched how apathetically he sliced down victims, listened to that wheezing laughter he’d let out as blood dripped onto the lenses of his goggles.

Took note of the way he talked to people. So cocky and apathetic. Completely detached from the lifestyle he lived - like it was all just a game.

Like it was all effortlessly easy.

You hated him for it. Wanted nothing to do with him because of it. And yet here he was, standing in front of you, gazing down at you with that same arrogant twinkle in his eye that made your skin crawl.

”I-It’s not what I want.” Toby had laughed, taking a step closer. “It’s w-what the boss wants.” He lifted his foot to nudge your hand with his muddy boot, knocking the sewing needle you were holding into the dirt. “Better re-results. You’re slow, a-and you suck.” He spoke so bluntly it made your blood boil in your veins, teeth grit as you looked up at him with narrowed green eyes. “Couple other reasons but I d-don’t feel like listing them all. Long story short, you-you’re working with me now.” His lips twitched up into a sinister smile. “You know, someone wh-who actually knows what they’re doing?”

The words he spoke were horrid already, but the knowing look of amusement he paired them with was worse. Like he was aware he had just walked up to you and presented your very worst nightmare all wrapped up in a bloody orange bow. There was nothing more that you’d rather do than shoo Toby away and tell him to simply ‘fuck off’ and find someone else to bother, but if what he said was true, and this was actually an order from Slender themself, then there was no point in fighting. Everyone knew that orders from the boss were non-negotiable, no matter how difficult (or annoying) they were.

And so, that was how it began.

Every single day, whether you liked it or not, you were forced into being Toby’s tag along partner. Accompanying him on missions, having him glued to your side and muttering insults under his breath as you tried to mind your own business. Toby was inescapable. A constant force that persisted even when you wanted him around the least.

It was a constant war whenever you were around each other. Who could deal the worst insults, who could stun the other one into silence from the absolute absurdity of their actions. Both forced into a partnership that neither wanted.

You, were more accustomed to working on your own. Toby, was more accustomed to working with Tim and Brian - who were used to his antics by now. It was almost laughable how easily he could wriggle his way under your skin, a feat that was difficult for him with the other proxies who knew him better. He was a shit-disturber, a nuisance, someone who poked and prodded just to get reactions for the fun of it. People who were used to his attitude didn’t bat an eye at his antics or abrasive nature - so you were the perfect victim.

Easily annoyed. Even more easily flustered. A toy that he could bat around, one that refused to break no matter how rough he got. It was a perfect arrangement, though some people would definitely beg to differ.

He’d spit out an insult and you would just deal back one that was ten times worse. Trip you up while you’re walking, and you’re picking yourself back up just to elbow him in the rib cage. If only he could feel the pain, but the wheeze he’d let out from being winded was enough to satisfy you.

Toby was insufferable, and he knew it. He was a nuisance at best and an absolute hindrance at worst. Missions together were the worst of it. Barely ever able to get a kill in for yourself before Toby was shoving you out of the way and flinging a hatchet at their skull. The ‘teaching experience’ he had advertised this partnership as was barely anything of the sort - more so just you being forced to sit back and watch as he split open another poor victim’s rib cage. Giggling to himself as he reached into the viscera and pulled out a lung or heart, just to fling it in your direction with a cackle slipping from his lips.

Horrible. He was horrible. That opinion of yours didn’t change in the slightest, even as the weeks ticked on. He was barely even a human at all, more so just a hollow shell filled to the brim with bloodlust and spite.

Someone who abided by Slender's every will because he wanted to, not because he was forced to. It was sickening. A way of life that you could never imagine for yourself. If the day ever came that you followed in Toby’s footsteps, finding a sick pleasure in the blood and gore that coated your clothing, you’d much rather be on the receiving end of his hatchet.

But, that day hadn’t come yet.

It’s a cold winter day - frigid winds, ankle deep snow caked to the soles of her boots and seeping into the gap between your pants and socks. The air is brisk, blooming a rosy tint on your pale cheeks as you trekked through the forest - leaving a trail of footprints for Toby to follow in as he trailed behind her closely. You could feel his gaze on your back, hear the sound of his heavy breathing with each step that he took, smell the acrid scent of cigarette smoke wafting off from the smoke perched between his lips. “Hey…” You heard him call, his voice soft and playful, forcing a tenseness into your muscles. Fingers clenched tight around the strap of the bag draped over your body, your jaw clenched, a shaky breath leaving your lungs before visualizing in the air as a cloud of condensation

”What?” You grit out, her voice dripping with that same distaste that you always wore when she was around Toby. An annoyance that you couldn’t shake.

“Y-You can talk to me you know.” Toby huffed out from behind her, his gaze trained on the back of you as he trudged through the snow in front of him. The way the cold December wind tousled the curly tufts of ginger hair atop your head, how your limbs were so frigid and stiff. From the cold, or from him? It was hard to tell. “You’re m-makin’ this harder on yourself by constantly being b-bitchy with me.”

”I’m not being bitchy.” You snapped back to him, turning your head back towards him for just a moment, only to cut him a deadly glare. “You’re just hellbent on being an asshole. Sorry for not wanting to hold a conversation with a prick like you.”

Toby barks out a harsh laugh, the sound echoing the vacant forest they were both traversing. Not a single soul in sight - not except for the two of them. Just miles and miles of snow and dying wood, not even the howl of a wolf in the distance to break up the silence. Just her, him, and the whistle of the wind between them.

”Harsh.” Toby snorts, one eyebrow raising as his eyes scan the figure before him. You were practically the exact opposite of him. Toby - tall and lean, you - short and stout. He often asked himself how you even managed your way around as a proxy. From his perspective, you looked like a weak link. Someone easily thrown around and tossed to the side. The idea of you actually subduing and killing someone was laughable at best, and he honestly wouldn’t believe it was possible if he hadn’t seen it happen with his own eyes. “Y-Y’know, if it weren’t for me you’d probably be dead.” He mutters. “S-Some useless fuck like you sh-shoulda been dealt with a long time ago.” He takes a drag, the hatches on his belt clinking with each step he took. “I-If I wasn’t nice, and I ss-said no to taking you under my wing - the boss would-woulda just axed you.”

”Begging for a ‘thank you’ makes you sound desperate.” You snort, rolling your eyes as you tug your coat further over yourself. “You’re not a hero, Toby. You never have been. You’ve just deluded yourself into thinking you are.”

The words are harsh enough to cut deep, slicing straight through Toby’s tough exterior to seep straight into his bones. Rising goosebumps on his arms, reigniting the fire of guilt he had (thought he had) snuffed out long ago. Such a chilling read on his entire nature, that he found himself faltering in his steps, his jaw going slack before his cigarette fell from his lips - extinguishing against the snow beneath him with a hiss.

“Yeah, well, you’re not a victim - l-like you seem to think you are.” Toby snaps back, eyeing his fallen smoke for just a second before he lets out a scoff and trudges past it. Just another reason for him to be pissed. It wasn’t easy coming across a cigarette, as a wanted criminal. He’d have to go rummaging through Tim’s bag for the third time this week. “Y-You hate me because you’re just like me. A c-cold hearted killer with bodies upon bodies under your belt.” His fingers twitch as he slowly reaches downwards, before closing around the handle of one of his hatchets. “Cry and m-moan about it all you want, but you can’t hide from the truth. You’re just as bad as me. Maybe even worse, because you re-refuse to accept the reality of it.”

You could feel your eye twitch in annoyance. That familiar, white hot sensation of anger brewing in your stomach and making your limbs tremble. He just forced it out so easily, like you was a marionette on strings and he was the puppet master - tugging and pulling you around until you were cracking from the strain.

And so you just can’t help yourself when you’re stopping in your tracks abruptly, whipping around with a scowl on your lips before you hiss out;

”Can you shut the fuck u-“

The whistle of metal cutting through air stops your sentence short. It happened so fast that you could barely even process it, your eyes not even having the chance to lock onto Toby’s weapon before it was flying straight past your skull - only missing you by a hair before it lodged itself in a tree just a few feet away.

The shock was palpable. Wide eyes and breathing cut off abruptly. Silence so deafening that if you really paid close attention, you may just hear the sound of your heart starting to pound in your chest - slowly coming up to speed with the rest of your body as the realization of what’s just happened washes over you like a bucket of ice water.

Stray auburn hairs sliced at the tip, fallen against the snow beneath your feet. Wood, cracked and splintering around the hatchet newly lodged within the trunk of a tree. Toby’s tool belt, uneven on one side now - starkly missing a weapon.

Finally piecing all of the parts together just makes your blood burn hotter.

And the perpetrator? Well, he’s stood before you as if nothing was amiss. As if he hadn’t just taken a shot at your life. Shoulders lax, eyes playful, carelessly toying with the now empty loop on his belt. Horrible. “Are you fucking insane?” You hiss out, eyes wide and manic - darting between Toby’s face and the weapon that had just barely missed your skull. “What the hell is wrong with you, you psycho?“

”T-Target practice.” Toby snorts, his lips curled up into a sly smile. “Treating you l-like the victim you think you are.” Snow crunches under his boots as he takes a few steps closer to you, the cool breeze whipping through his hair. “You luh-look like one, now that I’ve really got m-my eyes peeled.” Closer. Too close, he approaches. Standing tall before her like a pack wolf, his mouth widening into a toothy grin. “Verängstigtes k-kleines Kaninchen.”

In one quick movement, Toby’s darting a hand out to reach behind you - bruised knuckles grasping the handle of his discarded hatchet once more before he’s ripping it back out of the tree with a firm tug, splintered pieces of wood following it and raining down onto the snowy ground. “Sie glaubt, ss-sie sei so stark.” Toby chuckles softly, leaning his head down lower to encroach further on your space. “So kräftig.” Though her blood was rushing in her ears, you couldn’t find it in yourself to back down. Wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of letting him watch you shrink. “Aber sie ist nichts weiter als eine k-kleine Maus. Jemand, d-den ich unter meinem Stiefel zerquetschen könnte.”

The fact that you hadn’t a single clue what he was saying, added a strange sort of fear to the interaction that you just couldn’t wrap your head around. Voice low and gravelly, you knew that those words were threats - but what kind of threats? On your life? Your livelihood? Worse? Goosebumps rise on your neck and trickle down your spine, and this time, you know it's not from the cold. But again, to give him that satisfaction? To roll over and lay down like he wanted you to? It wasn’t happening. Over your dead body.

”Yeah, act like I can understand you, dumbass.” You spit out before rolling your eyes and turning on your heel. Partially, to end the interaction sooner. Partially, to escape his paralyzing gaze. Soulless brown eyes, looking damn near black under the overcast sky - scrutinizing you, mocking you, sizing you up. “Don’t fuckin’ pull a stunt like that again. If my blood’s on your hands when you get back, you’ll be in shit and you know it.”

A challenge? Maybe, maybe not. But Toby’s brain viewed it more so as the latter. Weeks of pushing you, weeks of trying to stamp down that nasty attitude of yours, and nothing had worked. Not insults, not humiliation, not even badmouthing you to Slender themself. Was it even really his fault, that he was leaning more towards drastic measures now? Had you not forced it out of him? Goading him with that piercing glare and lips tugged down into a perpetual scowl?

No, it was your fault. Your fault for bringing this out in him.

So when his arms stretch out towards you, one of which wielding his hatchet - that’s your fault too.

You only see a flash of metal and a glimpse of Toby’s sweater sleeve before it happens. Before what happens? Well, your beheading was what you expected - eyes widening at the sight of your fellow proxy’s weapon coming so close to your throat. But, that wasn’t what you were dealt. Because that would be too fast. Too easy. Unfulfilling.

Instead you’re left wheezing for air as the handle of Toby’s hatchet presses firm to your throat from behind, the worn wood digging into your windpipe as he pulls you back to him. You’re gasping when his back meets his chest, frantic hands flying up to claw at the handle of the weapon slowly but surely choking you out. It’s a firm, unrelenting pressure. One that made every single breath a chore. And your attempts to free yourself weren’t doing a thing to help. Nails scratching at Toby’s hands, digging in deep enough to draw blood - but Toby wasn’t phased even a little bit.

Of course he wouldn’t be. His arrogance had some merit to it. “Toby-“ Your voice comes out choked off and hoarse, throat feeling dry and scratchy as you struggle to take in air. “Fuck- Fuck’s wrong with you? Let me go! This- This isn’t funny!”

“O-Oh, it totally is.” Toby’s voice meets her ears as stark contrast to your own. Playful. Composed. Amused as he leans his head down lower, his breath brushing against the shell of your ear as he speaks. “You ss-see what I’m talkin’ about now? You’re pathetic. I’m barely even t-trying and you can’t do a thing to help yourself.” His hands tug the hatchet back further, forcing a strained cough out of your lungs. “Sind Sie w-wirklich so schwach? Oder liegt es daran, dass Sie es tatsächlich mögen?”

He starts to walk backwards, dragging you along with him as you kick your feet and flail your arms. Trying absolutely anything to wriggle free, but not a single thing was working. Not with the beast you had fallen into the clutches of. “H-How’d you even get this far, huh?” Using his hatchet as leverage, he spins you around quick enough that there’s no chance to wiggle away before the handle of his weapon is back to your neck. This time, pinning you completely when your back comes into contact with one of the many trees surrounding the two of you. “You o-obviously don’t fight well, so how’d you even get a kill under your b-belt?”

Face to face with him now, it’s hard for you not to shrink. Purpling lips quivering from the force of your scowl, eyebrows pinched together as you breathe raggedly through her nose. “Did ya’ go all ‘femme fatale’ on them? Wh-Whore yourself out to get their guard lowered, then spill their b-brains when they’re deep up in it?”

”You fucking freak.” You hiss out, trying again to kick at him - this time aiming for his groin - but again, nothing comes of it. God, was he indestructible? “Bet that’s a fantasy of yours isn’t it? You sick fuck.”

Toby cracks a grin, his eyes gleaming with a twisted form of amusement before he lets out a chilling chuckle. It’s menacing. A sound that nothing good could come from, and you knew it.

”C-Caught me.” Toby hums. “Wanna indulge me, hase?” His gaze roams free as his thoughts wander, flicking up and down your body with a scrutinizing gaze before landing back on your face. Your face, pale skin going pink from the lack of circulation - your freckles becoming swallowed up by the flush. “Only, here’s the thing - you w-wouldn’t be winning against me. I th-think you know that already.”

The look in Toby’s eyes is subjugating. Hidden beneath layers and layers of snark and sarcasm, but he’s serious - the glint in his eyes gives him away. If it didn’t, then his unwavering grip sure did. He hadn’t let his hold on you falter for even a second, keeping you pinned to the tree behind you as you watched the display before him with a sickening smirk curving his lips.

And for you, maybe the worst part was that it was equal parts arousing, as it was terrifying. It would be a lie to say you had never thought of Toby in that way, though it was often overshadowed by your complete distaste towards his attitude. You had thought about it a few times, watching Toby’s skin splatter with blood as he hauled off on another victim. A few more times, when you’d catch the way his whole face softened when he let out a genuine laugh.

And you were definitely thinking about it now, with him staring down at you like you were nothing but prey.

”As if.” You snort. “Like you’d even know what to do.” Your eyes flicker up towards his, the fear in your gaze clouded over with that same snark you wore so well. “That’s why you're acting so desperate, right?” Despite the situation, you still find it in yourself to twist your lips into a mocking pout. “Poor guy’s never gotten his dick wet? Gotta put a hatchet to a girl’s throat to actually get some?”

Just like that, you’ve pushed all the wrong buttons. Maybe the right ones actually, depending on how you look at it. Toby’s expression twists, that look of nonchalant amusement melting away for something much darker.

And there's barely even any time for you to think before he’s moving again.

”O-Oh, you’re fuckin’ askin’ for it now.” The hatchet finally leaves your throat, giving you a moment of reprieve to finally take in a few wheezing breaths. It doesn’t leave Toby’s hand though, even as his free hand reaches up to grasp your chin roughly. Out of sight, but barely out of mind. You knew the weapon was just lying in wait. “So eine dumme kleine Schlampe.” He husks out “You’re t-tryin’ to get me riled up on pu-purpose, aren’t you?

”Am not.” You argue back, your stomach flipping when a waver sneaks its way into your words. Just like that, cover blown.

”Are t-too.” Toby snorts, before lifting his arm and lodging his hatchet back in the tree above your head. The sound of wood splintering makes you flinch, but you barely has any time to even think about it before Toby pulls out his ace card. “W-Want me to prove it?”

He asks, but the question seems to just be of courtesy more than anything else. Because before you can think Toby’s free hand is drifting downwards - skirting over the curve of your waist, palm flat against you as he drifts down over your stomach, before finding its destination. Snug between your thighs. The heel of his palm pressing firmly up against your clothed clit as his digits tease your entrance through the thick fabric of your jeans.

The contact has you jolting immediately, mouth dropping open in shock and yet your hips buck towards him. Proving him right, though the words you’d speak would try to refute your own actions. It’s all futile. Toby knows that, and you do too - even if it's buried deep down.

”Fuck off, Toby-“ You grit out, jaw tense as he only presses in closer. A low hum of amusement rumbling from his chest as he adds a little more pressure to his touch. Forcing the crease of your jeans to press roughly up against your clit, sparking an array of tingles down her legs that make your knees feel gooey. You try in earnest to cut him a glare, but it’s a little difficult to be convincing when your expression is buckling just a few seconds later. It’s unavoidable, especially when his palm starts rubbing slow teasing circles against your heat.

If you really wanted to, you could probably shove him off. His guard was down, his hands were free of his weapons. You could easily stun him with a blow to the nose and then sprint off. Every nerve in your body was telling you to do just that, and yet for some reason, you found yourself rooted in place. Slowly but surely melting as the bark pressed into your back. “You’re such a fuckin’ creep.”

”Yeah? A-Am I?” Toby laughs as his other hand finds a home gripping your waist, tugging your hips forwards to meet his movements, forcing even more pressure behind his touch. By this point, the effect is undeniable. You can feel your clit throbbing within the confines of your panties, can feel the flimsy material grow more and more damp with each press of his hand. “Well you’re a Lügnerin.” His head dips down low, stubble scratching at her jawline before he parts his lips - letting his teeth drag against the sensitive flesh. A taunt. “Actin’ like you’re not a-a whore, even though I can smell it on you.” He pinches your skin between his teeth with a sharp nip, making your eyebrows scrunch up. “You’re soaking your panties r-right now, aren’t you? Just from me tossing you a-around a little?”

”Am not.” The lie you spit out is laughable, and it’s fuelled by your pride alone. You know, that if things continue to escalate like they had been, he’ll be finding out about your fallacy soon enough.

”Dirty fuckin’ liar.” Toby husks out against her skin, before pulling his head back. His eyes are dark and predatory as they drop downwards, tracking his own movements as his hand drifts upwards - fingers meeting the cold metal button of your jeans. “Y-You’re just sayin’ that because you want me to find out. Nicht wahr, Hase?”

The button of your jeans is popped, and the zipper is tugged down in quick succession, calloused fingers rough against soft skin when his hand dips below the denim’s hem, wasting no time before he’s cupping your core through your panties. “A-Ah, see?” He gently rubs you through the thin fabric, his smile only widening when he feels the dampness that coats his fingers because of it. “Du bist nur eine dumme Schlampe.”

You’re gasping when Toby’s fingers push the material of your panties to the side, auburn curls falling in front of your eyes as you wriggle in his grip. “D-Don’t act like you don’t want this.” Two fingers dip into your wetness, gathering up all that sweet slick that had accumulated between your folds. “You’re so fuckin’ wet.” He chuckles darkly. “Pussy’s practically beggin’ for it and I’ve barely even done anything.”

His thumb glides against your clit, two fingers teasing your slit but refusing to dip inside. Just to watch you squirm. “C’mon, j-just admit it. Tell me how bad you w-want it.”

Over your dead body.

“Fuck you.” You manage to grit out, eyebrows furrowed as waves of pleasure lick up your spine. But you won’t melt for him, can’t give in to someone like him.

“Ah, alright.” Toby snorts, one eyebrow cocked in amusement as his eyes rave over the pitiful state before him. “B-Be a bitch about it, that’s fine by me.”

In one swift movement his hand slips out of your jeans, and then both hands are on your hips - using his grip to spin you around harshly, pressing the front of your body against the tree you were pinned against. “I-I’ll fuck that attitude outta you, d-don’t you worry.”

The intensity of the situation was increasing exponentially, Toby’s movements growing bolder and bolder as the seconds ticked by. His calloused hands were rough but his actions were rougher - pushing and pulling your body to his will, blunt fingernails scratching at your skin when his fingers hooked under the waistband of your jeans. “Y-You’re so soft.” He hums in appreciation as he tugs the material down your hips, bringing your panties down with it. The cold air surrounding the two of you makes you hiss when it hits your bare cunt. “Aw, you cuh-cold?” Toby snickers. “Keine Sorge, ich w-werde dich aufwärmen.”

“Toby-“ Your words are cut off by a palm pressing to the side of your head, shoving your face against the rough bark of the tree. You sputter for a moment, too stunned to even register the sound of a belt buckle coming undone behind you. “Toby, I’m serious. Get your dirty hands off of me!”

“Y-You’re serious?” Toby chuckles darkly, dark eyes glinting as he raves over the sight before him. His fellow proxy bent over before him, pretty pudgy hips looking like the perfect canvas to leave a collection of bruises on. Your jeans keeping her legs bound at the knees, bare cunt glistening with arousal that told the truth far better than your words did. “Fuh-Funny. So am I.”

With a soft hiss he frees his cock from his boxers, already achingly hard just from batting around this little toy of his. His free hand reaches forwards, harshly gripping your hip and tugging you backwards - making your eyes blow open wide when his length presses up against you from behind. “N-Notice how you’re j-just lettin’ it happen? Die dumme Hure weiß nicht einmal, was sie will.”

He nudges his hips forwards, grinding his cock against your wetness - getting the shaft all nice and coated with your slick as a soft groan rumbles from his chest. “I’ll make the decision f-for you. Aren’t you a lucky thing?”

“T-Toby-“ Your body slumps against the bark, breathing going more ragged each time the head of his dick caught on your entrance. Teasing what was to come. You couldn’t see him, but you could tell he was packing. Just the head causing a stretch that made your stomach flip every time he notched it inside her, only to slip past again. “You- fuck -You can’t-“

“I can’t?” Toby barks out a laugh, his fingers curling deeper into your flesh, watching how it indents from his grip. “From where I-I’m standing, it’s lookin’ like I can.”

Not even given the courtesy of being fingered open a little, your breath catches when you feel the head of his cock press more firmly against you. So much need behind his actions you could practically smell it in the air. “Deep breath, kaninchen.” He murmurs. “This might hurt ya’ a l-little.”

And that’s the only warning he gives you. Because next, he’s nudging his hips forwards - ripping a startled moan from your lungs as his cock bullies its way into her heat. So tight, it makes his teeth grit, eyebrows furrowing and breathing going shallower with each inch he sinks in.

Your legs begin to shake, tears pooling in your eyes as he stuffs you fuller and fuller, to the point where you’re pretty sure he’s going to break you before he even fully sheaths himself. But then, his hips meet yours, right as your ears start to ring. “Hah-“ Toby gasps out, his voice strained. “You-You’re fuckin’ tight. Pussy’s tryna strangle me.”

With another nudge of his hips he gets himself deeper, and your vision starts to blur around the edges. “This cunt was m-made to take me, wasn’t it?”

All he gets in response is a strained whine, but that’s not what he was looking for. Not even close. “Words, slut.” He growls out, using his grip on your hips to keep you pulled back on him - no room to wriggle free. “You were made to take my cock, weren’t you?”

“Fuck off.” You gasp out, the words coming out gargled and breathless. You can barely even think past the feeling of Toby’s cock stretching you open, your inner walls twitching and pulsing around his cock as you struggle to accommodate him. “Cocky bastard.” His hips draw back only minutely, before he’s shoving himself right back in to the hilt - knocking all the air out of your lungs.

“You’re a fuckin’ stubborn bitch, aren’t you?” Toby snaps, releasing your waist with one hand just to reach up above you. In one sharp move he rips his abandoned weapon out of the tree trunk, letting out a soft grunt before he’s raising the metal to your neck. Right under your jawline, the edge of his blade just barely pressing against your skin. An undeniable threat. “How about now? S-Still gonna keep that snark if I lob your pretty head off?”

And then, his hips are moving. His length dragging against your walls on each pull out, just for the head to press against your g-spot on every stroke back in. Harsh, jerky, barely an ounce of care in his actions. His weapon jostling every time his skin smacks against yours, his carelessness only adding to the danger. “C’mon, benimm d-dich wie die Hure, von der ich weiß, dass du sie bist.”

You’re breathing shaky through your nose, your head spinning from a mixture of arousal and unbridled fear - stomach leaping every time the blade of his hatchet presses against your skin just a little too harshly. It’s hard to tell if he’s truly being serious, but your wouldn’t put it past him. If anything, you’re sure he’s done worse. And yet, the pleasure still rears its head, even though it’s bordered by a fear that makes your gut twist. You knew how absolutely pitiful you looked. Could feel the wetness seeping out of you, dirtying both you and Toby - creating a sickening sticky sound every time his hips separated from yours. “Say it. S-Say this sloppy little cunt was made for me.”

“F-Fuck, okay-“ You groan out, eyebrows pinching together as a shiver of pleasure goes down your spine. His cock is throbbing inside you, fucking more slick out of you with each brutal press in. In the otherwise silent forest, the sound of skin on skin is loud. Near deafening every time his hips collide with yours. “This- shit- This pussy was made for you.” You spit out the words like they’re venom on your tongue, barely even able to verbalize them through the gasps and moans leaving your lips. Fingernails gripping the tree trunk before you, you’re ripping bark from the trunk as your fingers scramble to find purchase. Desperate for something to ground you through this brutal onslaught of ecstasy you had been thrown into.

Your skin feels like it’s on fire, despite the frigid air around you. Every nerve in your body set alight, stars dancing behind your eyelids with each stroke Toby was delivering to you. Not a chance of reprieve. No room to breathe. Such an overwhelming sea of pleasure that it’s easy to forget that the person dealing it still has a hatchet to your neck. “Toby, fuck- S’too much-“

”Aw, n-no it’s not.” Toby chuckles softly, his grip only tightening as he fucks into you harder - dark eyes honed in on the sight of your skin rippling every time his hips met yours. On the glistening sheen you were leaving his cock coated in every time he pulled out. “Think I c-can’t feel you tightening up around me?” Despite you abiding to his wishes, he keeps the hatchet nestled right up against your neck. Not enough pressure to break skin, just enough to keep the threat evident. “Feels good, don’t it? Such a slut you’re gonna cum on my cock even though I could kill you in a second?”

“M’not-“ You whine out, but it’s just another lie. You can feel it. Had been able to feel it for a while now. That familiar heat, burning hotter and hotter with each snap of Toby’s hips. Struggling to hold it back, when every press in had him pressed snug up against your g-spot.

”I think you are.” Toby snickers, before finally dropping the hatchet. It hits the snowy ground with a thud, before he’s grabbing your hips with both hands - all restraint gone as he fucks into you with a quicker, faster pace. “C’mon. Give it to me. Y-You’re so close, I can feel it.”

You are. To the point where no amount of willpower could keep your orgasm at bay. Not when Toby was slamming into you like an animal, husky groans slipping out of his lips with each stroke. It only takes a few more before you’re crumpling. Going near limp against the tree as your orgasm hits you like a truck - vision damn near going white as a white hot wave of pleasure washes over you from head to toe. Knees buckling completely, Toby’s firm grip being the only thing keeping you upright as you goes fully pliant in his hold.

So dazed, so fucked out, you barely even hear Toby hiss out a string of curses from behind you, but you feels it when his hips stutter.

Only two more pumps before he’s cumming undone right alongside you - cock still pressed deep when he spills his load. Head dropping down low to rest against your shoulder blades before he’s groaning lowly against your skin. “Hah- Fuck, such a good fuckin’ cunt. T-Tryna milk me dry.”

Trying, or succeeding? Definitely the latter. Because by the time Toby’s pulling out, you’re still stuffed with him - milky white ropes of cum dribbling out of your abused cunt and running down your thighs. Toby lets out an amused hum before reaching down, then he’s scooping it all back up with two fingers and promptly pushing it right back inside you. “Cute.” He snickers. “You made a mess.”

”I made a mess?” You rasp back out, weakly looking over your shoulder to cut him the meanest glare you could muster up. The verdict was, not very convincing, because your face was still flushed with eyes fucked out and hazy.

”Yeah.” Toby chuckles. “Y-You made a mess.” He delivers a sharp slap to one of your ass cheeks before letting out a snort of a laugh. “Don’tcha worry though, th-the boss’ll get a good report from me this time. Looks like you can be useful.”

You rolls your eyes before letting out a shaky breath, trying (and failing) to regulate your heart rate once more.

”Yeah, I guess you can be too.”

—

helloooooo friends! yes yes this was a commission! thank you to the lovely who sent this to me and gave me the permission to post this on my blog <3

as I said up top, my commissions are closed for now, but if you’re interested in something like this for yourself hit me up once they’re open again! I usually take around 5 commissions at a time before I close them for breathing room :)

[aardvaark]

leverage rewatch: s1e1 "the nigerian job"

i love that nate’s very first line is threatening to punch this guy in the throat, said while day drinking alone in a bar. really sets the stage for how broken up he is at this moment.

on the opposite end, hardisons first line is insulting the tech for this heist lol. immediately clear this team is gonna be a problem (affectionate) for nate.

eliot’s first line is said to somehow both commend and mock hardison ("you’re not as useless as you look") and that is a pretty good look into their dynamic for the whole series lol.

hardison and parker’s very first on-screen interaction is hardison being enamored with her (and eliot teasing him about it) <3

hardison telling eliot "i don’t even know what you do" is a fun little line because it starts to show how much the team actually know about each other before this heist. like, nate knows a decent amount about all of them, and they know a bit about nate. but hardison knows nothing about eliot, and eliot’s (previously mentioned) first line also implies that if he does know anything about hardison, it’s probably not much either. im gonna elaborate on this in a separate post before i get off track lol.

parker’s first *mention* comes before she’s actually on screen, when nate is looking through the files of the team he’s gonna work with and says that "parker is insane". people have pointed this out a bunch of times before but this is a really perfect first mention of her because we will spend most of her arc throughout the series showing that this isn’t really true! by season five, she’ll get to finally "respond" to that introduction of hers - "they said i was crazy, but i never was. i never was". and it’s really interesting to see nate go from being the person who calls her insane to fully trusting her with leading the team when he’s gone.

i still think about the giant sheet of glass that parker lets fall to the ground in the first heist lol. are the people on the street okay

also love the "why the f-" [cut off] line that parker gets. i think that's the closest we get to one of the main characters saying fuck?

nate calling them children in the first episode. ironic for a guy who did NOT set out to be a father figure to these weird criminals who are gonna follow him around for the next five years.

parker being the one to introduce the chess metaphor my beloved <3 shes very perceptive! and she also just knows that "crime is fun" and nate's bound to enjoy it lol.

hospital scene from the extended pilot <3 how come eliot's chained to a chair instead of a bed like the rest of them? anyway, i wish more people watched the extended pilot because in the season 1 finale when eliot shoves the hard hat on hardison's head, you should know that he's getting petty revenge for when hardison shoved eliot's head into the roof of the cop car in this scene.

nate saying there's "payback, and if it goes right, a lot of money" for eliot and "a lot of money, and if it goes right, payback" for parker, he's got their (current) motivations nailed already.

parker and hardison being like "yeah sure lets go get whatever a 'sophie' is" vs eliot asking lol. but he also evidently follows regardless. yeah thats pretty much how nate's gonna be, sorry eliot, you'll get used to this.

i find nate and sophie's first scenes so sweet. he watches her terrible acting but from his expression you'd think she was gonna win an oscar. and when she sees him in that alley, she's trying to continue being the cool and mysterious femme fatale but she's clearly so happy underneath - he came and found her! he sought her out! he's playing her side now, and that changes everything! (and one day soon she'll realise - oh shit, this changes everything. but tonight she's just over the moon). i know they're very much not the fan favourites, but u gotta admit that their interactions in the pilot... chefs kiss!!

in the next scene at hardison's apartment, (btw, rip hardison's awesome pilot apartment which we never see again), sophie is dressed down and intently listening and taking notes which is fairly unusual for her. but not out of character necessarily - when she mentors parker in grifting later, she encourages parker to take handwritten notes.

"that's an odd thing for you to know" "that's an odd place for you to be" (eliot and sophie's lines). he picks up on her suspicious knowledge and she challenges him right back. and he immediately knows to only trust sophie about as far as he can throw her.

i wish we got to see a little of sophie meeting the others! but there's no time and it would be an unnecessary scene. i like that their introduction to sophie was her awful acting though, because that will always be their first impression - not of an incredible grifter, but of a much sillier and more genuine version of sophie than we otherwise see for most of season one.

parker laughing at hardison's joke is also adorable.

no comments on the eliot + nate pool table scene, because @laser-tripwires has already written an incredible analysis of that interaction here. :) !!

actually the only thing i will mention is eliot saying that they all know about nate's kid dying - that's very important. nate wouldn't want them to know his vulnerabilities. even if they just pity him... well to him, that might be worse.

eliot saying "incoming" about sophie walking over is also really funny to me. referring to her like she's something dangerous, and he's joking but he's not wrong!

okay where did sophie get the "black king, white knight" line from? she was not there when parker said that. maybe everyone speaks in chess metaphors in the leverage Crime World.

[goldfades]

★ DOWN BAD ─── PB⁵ ft. UCONN WBB MANAGER

❪ requested -> "Paige would totally bring manager y/n to Minnesota so that she can meet Paige’s family. Paige ofc would introduce her as a “friend” at first. Manager and Paige’s family would hit it off. Especially with Drew. They both would bully Paige and Drew would expose Paige by saying sum shit like ‘Paige’s talks about you a lot’. Paige would give the biggest side eye 😭 though deep down she loves that her brother and manager are bonding." ❫

─ pairing | paige bueckers x fem!reader

─ warnings | just some banter and fluff, nothing else!

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my wcbb masterlist!

YOU AND PAIGE WERE laying on her bed, listening to Drew's rambles about the school project he was doing. Paige kept sending amused glances your way, however she quickly noticed how enamored you were with Drew's story.

You were spending a few weeks in Minnesota with Paige because she insisted you had to meet her family. However, it wasn't a meeting your family thing, it was more of introduction to the idea. It was easier for both of you that way, the pressure was off and it was simply just another vacation. Being in Minnesota with Paige felt comfortable and familiar, even though it was your first time meeting her family.

As Drew animatedly recounted his project, you couldn't help but be captivated by his enthusiasm. His passion for the matter was contagious, and you found yourself getting drawn into his story despite your initial intention to just be a supportive listener. Paige noticed the spark in your eyes as you listened to her little brother, and she couldn't help but smile at the sight.

Paige watched how you nodded with every word, and occasionally threw in your own thoughts about the project, it was adorable ─ you were completely engrossed in the conversation and she was completely engrossed in you.

"Paige, are you even listening to me?" Drew's voice echoed as Paige was pulled out of her trance, her gaze slowly moving back to Drew.

Paige kept smiling as she glanced back at you. "What? Y/N's listening, isn't that enough?"

"You could at least look at me, y'know," he sighed dramatically as you finally caught her affectionate gaze.

A blush slowly began to rise on your face, mirroring the warmth in Paige's eyes. You tried to refocus on Drew, but the intensity of Paige's gaze made it hard to concentrate.

You shifted slightly, meeting Drew's gaze with a bashful smile. "Sorry, Drew," you apologized, your cheeks tinted with a warm hue. "What were you saying?"

Drew rolled his eyes playfully but couldn't hide the smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Nothing, it's okay. I can see you're more interested in looking at each other."

"Drew!"

You laughed as you shook your head, Paige sending her little brother a playful glare. "I guess attitude does run in the family,"

"Yeah, I guess it does." Paige smiled as she nudged you gently, a silent exchange of affection passing between you.

Drew watched the interaction with amusement, groaning in mock exasperation. "I knew Paige was gonna be distracted when you visited but not to this extent," he muttered as Paige kept glaring at her little brother.

Your eyebrows flew up as you smirked, sending Paige a glance. "Oh really?"

"Yeah well she's kinda obsessed with you. Every time we call, not only do I have to hear about her problems but yours too, I feel like I already know you even though we met like two days ago," Drew explained as he leaned back on the bed, feigning a dramatic sigh. "She talks about you so much, Y/N this, Y/N that-"

"Shut up, bro," Paige groaned loudly as you laughed along with Drew, finding his teasing both amusing and endearing.

Drew grinned mischievously, clearly reveling in his sister's reaction. "What! It's true, you can't even deny it."

Paige shot Drew a mock glare before turning to you, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment but her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I swear he's exaggerating."

You chuckled, reaching out to gently squeeze Paige's hand. "It's okay, P, we know you're a little down bad for me."

Paige's jaw dropped but before she could respond, Drew sighed loudly before responding. "Yeah, yeah everyone knows that, can we get back to my project?"

"Whoa, whoa let's backtrack. Me? Down bad?" Paige exclaimed, shooting you a playful look. "You wish, Y/N."

You couldn't help but laugh at Paige's reaction, enjoying the playful teasing between the three of you. "Don't worry, P. It's a good thing, right Drew?" you reassured her with a grin.

Drew nodded with a grin as he joined in on the teasing. "Yeah, definitely a good thing. From what I've heard, which is a lot, trust me," he paused for dramatic effect. "Trust me, you do a lot for the team so it's obvious Paige's gonna be in love with you."

You and Paige both bursted out laughing at Drew's exaggerated commentary, unable to contain your amusement at his antics.

Paige playfully swatted at Drew's arm, a mixture of embarrassment and amusement coloring her cheeks. "Oh my god, Drew, stop exposing me,"

You grinned, feeling a warm sense of warmth with both Paige and her brother. "I think Drew might be onto something, P," you teased, nudging Drew gently. "But don't worry, your secret's safe with us."

Paige rolled her eyes, but there was a playful sparkle in them that belied her protests. "You two are crazy," she said with a laugh, leaning in to bump shoulders with you affectionately.

As Drew began talking about his project (which slowly turned into Fortnite), you kept listening intently as Paige rested her head against your shoulder. You both exchanged glances every one in a while, a soft smile on your faces as you shared this comfortable moment together.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[thevibraniumveterans]

I have THOUGHTS about… ahem… the “Thunderbolts*”…

SPOILER ALERT!!!

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT…

LAST WARNING!

I’ve just watched the film this evening and I have so many thoughts off the top of my head and in no particular order

Valentina, you SCHEMING little shit, I KNEW something was up! That was insane.

Movie was big on mental health, for sure.

I previously thought we’d see Bucky going up against himself, but I was wrong; why would he ever need to do that? The MCU was his process and we’ve been watching him absolutely go through it.

And speaking of going through it, Bob and his room reminded me of Moon Knight, what with the abusive parents and whatnot, him being in the safest room he can be in, surrounded by toys.

And speaking of rooms. Yelena’s scenes around the Red Room situations, oof, that must’ve been really hard on her, that she could not change anything, that it would keep happening.

The whole you-don’t-have-to-do-this-alone aspect of the film was so well made, and that one scene near the end, the group hug, heartwarming. Very emotional scene. Loved it.

Very nearly upstaged by the previous scenes where Bucky, Walker, Ava, Yelena, and Alexei stopped that stone slab from hitting the ground, saving civilians

Alexei was hilarious throughout the whole movie, awesome at that

HOLY SHIT THE NEW AVENGERS??? I’ll get back to that in a bit but OMG.

The thing about Bob punching his own dark reflection and almost becoming what he feared the most was just… so so well done, that even when he was being mocked, he found the strength to get up and fight back, inspiring the others to get up and fight back too, and fight back together

Taskmaster? Yeah, we knew she was toast within the first 20 minutes but not how, now we know that Val had sent Taskmaster to kill Walker to kill Yelena to kill Ghost

That was one hell of an introduction though

And speaking of introductions, I gotta say something about the post-credits scene. First off, those new outfits are really cool; Walker getting a beret?? BUCKY GETTING A NEW OUTFIT AND A STAR OVER HIS RIGHT ARM?? I love that it’s navy blue now. AND THE FANTASTIC FOUR SHIP?? We know F4 is right around the corner this summer; I’m guessing that in the mid- and/or post-credits scene(s) of that movie we’ll have the F4 interact with the New Avengers before DOOMSDAY

And speaking of the New Avengers! That was Val’s whole setup! She had to get all shady and morally grey and villainy-like, trying to get her potential Avengers members to kill each other in some kind of wretched test to see how’d they fare against each other.

And oh right, BUCKY SAID SAM ISN’T HAPPY about the New Avengers; remember in CABNW Sam said that Ross told him to form a new team? What kind of beef is Val having with whoever is the president now? I mean it’s not like Bucky put together a team, it was just convenient that four of them were in the same car. But think about it, in the Doomsday lineup video, Anthony Mackie was third and Sebastian fourth, so the fact that they’re really high up on the roster and right next to each other tells me that Sam may be mad an Avengers team has been formed and there was nothing he could do about it

And like, it’s 2027 in the MCU now, right? The movie ends like 14 months later so now it’s freakin’ 2028 in the MCU now.

Bob is a cool person, I think, Sentry was the midpoint between Bob and the Void, and Bob doesn’t want to become the Sentry due to how he’d also become the Void - this avoidance is kinda like how Banner didn’t want to become Hulk but then reconciled. I like Bob’s dynamic with Yelena.

The whole metaphor of walking into the void is like choosing to confront your shame, your darkness, the things you think you don’t deserve sympathy for, but then again the whole point of Yelena, Bucky, Walker, and Ava coming together to group hug Bob was just so good.

It’s hilarious that Val didn’t just go “I’m putting together a team”, she went “Imma send these misfits to kill each other, send my latest project to kill them, ALL IN THE GUISE OF HOPING THEY ALL TEAM THE EFF UP but I can’t tell anyone that until the events I put into motion cause them to save the city and become the heroes I always knew they were” and honestly? What the hell, Valentina?! 🤣 You played them, you played us, well effing done, loved it, 15/10 no notes.

Bucky with the good hair! 🤩

Oh and the mid-credits artwork referencing famous historical promo, the Yelena “We can do it” poster referencing the WWII Rosie the Riveter propaganda, the team shot referencing the “Raising the Flag on Iwo Jima” photo

And part of the artwork also being in-universe headlines of people not exactly loving the New Avengers

And the classic Avengers theme song as the undercurrent for the main theme of this movie!

I may have other points but I’ll save them for later, I think??

[storiesconsumemysoul]

Look I'm still processing my own feelings around the Siuan Sanche decision and execution but I gotta get this out of my system real quick. Firstly, some of y'all are way too comfortable swatting down, mocking, and condescending to fans (BIPOC fans in particular) who are upset. I'd recommend reigning that shit in. You can disagree and push back without resorting to all of that. Many such examples abound already within this discussion itself. Maybe try to emulate that approach instead of just bulldozing through an emotionally and politically charged discourse for minority fans.

Secondly, try engaging with this backlash with the larger context of the show in mind. Or even just S3. Look at how many characters (with speaking roles) died this season and how many of them were black. Think about the unnecessary death of Child Valda (Eamon Valda) this early in the series. The actor, Abdul Salis, devoured his introduction scene (and every scene since) so goddamn thoroughly that he instantly made the White Cloaks a terrifying presence that has resonated throughout the rest of the show. This brilliance gets rewarded with an anticlimactic quick death, with no buildup, by the hands of characters we haven't had the time to get to know properly, and who didn't even share a single scene with him prior. Right when Perrin, who does have a real established connection with him, is set up to spend a whole lot of time with the White Cloaks. Why not keep him for longer, doing what he does best, so that when the girls kill him down the line we'd have spent enough time building up to their confrontation to make for a proper earned send off worthy of such a towering talent?

And Ryma, played magnificently by Nyokabi Gethaiga, who absolutely electrifies from the get-go and through (2x6) in particular (along with her warder Basan played by Bentley Kalu). Ryma whose scream and anguished face as she is being collared by the Seanchan has haunted us for the last two years. Who left such an impression of her kindness, her strength, her faith in her sisters, her bottomless love for her warder, and with so little on-screen time. Gets one singular scene this season. With no acknowledgment, explanation, or addressing of any part of her role last season. How was she freed? When? Why was she not part of the effort to uncover Black Ajah in the tower when we saw her so deeply pained and shaken even by just the realization that one of her sisters could betray their sisterhood? She was written into such an afterthought background character this season that so many audience members seem to have straight up not even recognized her as the same character from S2, as Ryma, at all.

And Ihvon, originally played by Emmanuel Imani and recast this season to be played by Anthony Kaye, who dies in ep.(1) and, to the show's credit, haunts Alanna and Maksim's storyline so strongly that we feel his presence throughout the season. But we see none of that reflected in the tower. With Stepin (Peter Franzén) in S1, we get such a beautiful display of the warder's brotherhood, cultural ties to each other, and most importantly, how deeply loved Stepin was by his fellow warders. S1 makes us feel the loss of him reverberate through them all so devastatingly. Where is that grief for Ihvon? Where is his community? We spend so much time in the tower immediately in the aftermath of his death, and yet there is no one to mourn or honor him in the absence of Alanna and Maksim? We couldn't have had some of our characters pass by or even just hear about the other warders holding a funeral for him? Or just remembering him in some way?

I could go on for a good while still honestly. And sure, we could make legitimate arguments and have readings that justify these choices individually. But regardless, what this shows in aggregate, is a pattern of clumsiness in handling dark-skinned black characters/actors in particular. While at the same time, playing around with extremely politically, historically, and emotionally charged images of black bodies. Be it Ryma being collared and never addressing it again, Child Valda's whole thing, etc. etc. ... and now Siuan Sanche bruised black and blue, bloody, stripped to her shifts, bodily dragged across the hall, and decapitated. These are incredibly powerful and visceral images.

And no, before someone tries to make this point, I am not saying you can't graphically kill, write off, or deprioritize black characters/actors for perfectly legitimate artistic or practical reasons under any circumstances. I am saying that those choices don't exist in a vacuum. The context of the text at large and the real world are inevitably going to be part of how those decisions are received. It's not enough to have good faith diverse casting. And it is not unreasonable to expect a continued treatment of care and thoughtfulness past the casting stage and into every other facet of their presence and exit from the story.

[eunandonly]

ADMIT IT, YOU LIKE ME ⭑ ( 𝗁𝗍𝗌 )

parallel lines are not supposed to meet ─── but yet here we are, stolen glances and whispered flirtings we mask as tauntings

'𝐸 . han dongmin + fem. reader 925 · academic rivals to lovers fluff headcanons ୨୧ unestablished relationship, extreme passive aggressive behaviour archive

은혜 : a little fic before i disappear for a week bc of my school trip!! i've been wanting to develop the academic rival!taesan idea from this fic i wrote before for agessss and red hair taesan has done smth to me he is so fine like annyeong fine shyt ok i also want to write a cute fic for leehan maybe i'll work on that on the plane mmhmm

REBLOGS AND FEEDBACKS ARE APPRECIATED

academic rival taesan who you’ve shared the top two ranks with since freshman year, though neither of you are willing to admit that the competition has become personal. he always finishes one point ahead or one place below, never enough to settle the rivalry once and for all.

academic rival taesan who scoffs under his breath and starts flipping the pages of his chemistry textbook more aggressively when you shoot him a victorious smirk after answering a question faster than him. he hates you. you’re just so damn annoying.

“it’s just a calculus question,” he says, rolling his eyes when he sees the grin on your face. “calm down, it’s not that deep.” “you’re just mad you didn’t get it faster than me.” you reply with a shrug and a mocking smile that makes taesan’s blood boil.

academic rival taesan who claps sarcastically from the back of the room when you finish your presentation and makes sure to tell you that “your introduction was weak”

academic rival taesan who spends weeks preparing for a debate because he found out you’re on the opposing team. the trophy is one thing, but the way your eye twitches is another when he calls your argument “surface level at best” in front of everyone in the room.

“you sound like you spent hours preparing just for the opening line of your argument.” you say as you organise your colour coded flashcards during an interval. “i didn’t,” he lies. “yeah well,” you sigh, looking up to give him a mocking smile. “maybe you should’ve–a bit weak on your counter arguments, don't you think?”

academic rival taesan who constantly competes against you, even outside of academics because he just can’t seem to let the rivalry go. you call him petty. he calls himself determined. 

“were you purposefully only aiming at me during that round of dodgeball or am i hallucinating?” you ask during a water break in pe, out of breath after dodging twenty different throws from taesan. “i think you’re hallucinating as per usual.” “i think you should shut up.”

academic rival taesan who makes sure to pull you back by your backpack in the corridors when you shove past him, murmuring about how rude you are in a quiet voice so only you can hear before letting you go.

you and academic rival taesan who are always causing arguments during student council meetings but than end up teaming up when other members say something that pisses both of you off.

“that’s the most terrible idea i’ve ever heard. it'll go over budget, i've done all my calculations,” taesan grumbles, staring at your document with a scowl on his face. “well i don’t see you with any better ideas.” you retort, crossing your arms and shutting your laptop passive aggressively. taesan just shakes his head. “we might as well just put your pretty face to use and make you stand in the hallway to promote.” the student council treasurer cuts in, nudging the other members. “or you could just admit you’re both into each other and move on.” you and taesan both tell him to shut up in unintended unison.

academic rival taesan who doesn't know when his hatred for you starts slipping into something else that he can't describe. a strange, warm feeling in his chest whenever he talks to you. and he’s trying very, very hard to ignore it, but he can’t help but feel like he hates the fact that he might not actually hate you as much as he thinks he hates you.

academic rival taesan who stopped sitting next to you in class after your knee brushed his under the table and he forgot his six times tables for three seconds. but he’ll still lean over during class to whisper insults in your ear, his breath way too warm and way too close.

you and academic rival taesan who makes the school’s student body whisper about the strange tension between you two that both of you seem to be pointedly ignoring. someone in your class whispers about how they’re never sure whether you want to tear each other apart or make out during arguments.

“you lack the depth to understand nietzsche” “you read nietzsche for aesthetics” “says you. you’re just about as deep as a kiddy pool.”

academic rival taesan who’s the one that actually comforts you when he finds you crying in an empty classroom after school because your grades fell, rubbing your back and telling you in a gentle voice that “one stupid physics paper isn’t going to ruin your whole life” and that “there’s no reason for you to worry about unemployment in the future.”

academic rival taesan who’s possessive in a petty way. he mocks you 24/7, but he’s the only one who gets to call you a pretentious know-it-all. 

some guy snorts after you answer a question in class. “she acts like she’s the only one who knows anything.” taesan swivels in his seat. “you want to repeat that louder?” “relax, it’s just a joke.” “i don’t see anyone laughing.”

academic rival taesan who starts doodling snarky comments in the margins of your notebook or leaving you little notes on your desk with a snack he knows you like from the store. he swears it isn’t him, but you could recognise his handwriting anywhere–sharp, slanted, narrow.

academic rival taesan who’s cocky enough to lean towards you during study period to whisper in your ear, “admit it, you like me.” you smile and write on his notebook in red: “you wish.”

[willowsnook]

Noisy Neighbor pt. 2

pt. 2 to this request

@watermelonslut

lando norris x neighbor!reader

Ever since that night, things between you and Lando had changed for the better. Now, when you passed each other in the hall, you no longer felt irritated. You’d even watched a few F1 races to see if he really was as good as he said. When he was away, he texted to "check in on his apartment" but always ended up steering the conversation toward how you were doing.

You weren’t sure what to make of this new dynamic. On one hand, Lando was undeniably attractive and fun to be around. But as a new F1 fan, you’d read the headlines—playboy, cocky, self-centered. So, for now, you convinced yourself to keep things friendly, neighborly. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

On Friday morning, you were gearing up for a focused workday when a knock at the door interrupted you.

"Can I help you?" you asked, puzzled to see a delivery guy holding a coffee and pastry bag from the cafe down the street.

"Delivery for Y/N," he said, extending the bag toward you.

"I didn’t order anything," you replied, confused.

"Looks like it was ordered by a Lando Norris," he clarified, checking the receipt, and you felt a warm flutter in your chest.

Reluctantly, you took the bag, smiling as you closed the door. Peeking inside, you saw a slice of pumpkin bread—your favorite.

Y/N: Thanks for the pick-me-up. Is this a pre-apology for something you're doing tonight?

LN: Maybe…

Y/N: What time are you back?

LN: Around 5. Having a few friends over, so you've been warned.

Y/N: Define “a few.”

LN: No comment.

Y/N: :|

LN: You should stop by, though.

Y/N: We’ll see.

After a productive day, you spent the evening cleaning up your apartment, knowing Lando’s party would soon start across the hall. By 7 p.m., the music was already thumping. With a sigh, you changed into something a bit more casual yet presentable, then headed over.

When Lando opened the door, grinning at you in a black T-shirt and sweats, you couldn’t help but smile.

"Hey," he greeted, pulling you inside. After a quick introduction to his friends, he whisked you to the kitchen. "Want something to drink?"

"Sure," you replied, eyeing the crowd. You’d guess around 20 people were mingling, laughing, and enjoying the music. Lando handed you a drink, and after one sip, you grimaced.

"This is terrible," you laughed, and he chuckled.

"It grows on you. Trust me."

Just then, a voice called his name, and he slipped away, leaving you to nurse the mystery drink. A familiar voice behind you made you spin around.

“Y/N? Is that you?” It was Maggie, an old friend from college.

You squealed, pulling her into a hug. "What are you doing here?"

“I could ask the same thing!” she said, surprised. "I’m here on vacation."

Laughing, you replied, "I live in Monaco now, right across the hall from Lando. How do you know him?"

“We have mutual friends,” she explained as you moved to the balcony, catching up.

A couple of hours (and a few more of Lando’s terrible concoctions) later, you were feeling it. While chatting with one of his friends in the living room, two arms wrapped around your waist, and you felt Lando’s warmth at your back.

"Hi," he murmured, his breath tickling your ear.

You giggled, glancing up at him. "Hi."

"Having fun?" he asked, a playful look in his eyes.

"Tons, but I am very drunk," you admitted, laughing.

He chuckled, turning you to face him, his eyes softening. “You’re so pretty,” he slurred, making you blush.

"So are you," you shot back, and he shook his head.

"No, I’m handsome, not pretty," he argued, pouting as you tilted your head in mock thought.

"Nope, I think you're pretty," you teased, earning an exaggerated eye roll. Just then, someone called for him, and he grabbed your hand, pulling you back to the living room. But instead of letting you go, he settled you right in his lap on the couch.

“Much better,” he said with a smirk, his arms snug around you. You settled in, joining the conversation and enjoying his friends’ company. Someone brought over a round of shots, and things became a bit of a blur after that.

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

The next morning, you woke with a pounding headache and a desperate need for water. Blinking, you realized you were in Lando’s room, the man himself snoring softly beside you. Glancing down, you blushed—somehow, you’d ended up in just your tank top and underwear.

Leaning over him to grab a water bottle from the nightstand, you accidentally woke him.

"What time is it?" he asked groggily.

"10," you replied, wincing at the brightness of your phone.

Sitting up, he smiled at you sleepily before his eyes widened.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, confused.

“Umm… how much do you remember from last night?”

You tried to think back. "Last thing I remember is tequila shots. Did we… hook up?”

“No,” he replied, blushing. “Close, but… no.”

“Then what’s the big deal?” you asked, watching as he flicked his eyes down from your eyes. Moving over to the mirror, you gasped.

“Are you fucking serious, Lando?” you said, glaring at him with a mix of amusement and annoyance.

He smirked. “You asked for it.”

Looking closer, you saw multiple hickeys around your collarbone, deep purple marks trailing down toward your chest.

"Hope you're happy," you said, shooting him a glare in the mirror.

“Quite,” he replied cheekily, “but you blue-balled me, so we’re even.”

“I did?” you asked, eyebrows raised.

He laughed. "Yeah, we made out on the couch for a while, and when I brought you in here, you were asleep by the time I turned around."

"Oops," you replied with a smirk. "I’m starving.”

“Let’s get some food, then,” he said, tossing you one of his hoodies. "I think Max is still passed out on the couch. He can join us."

You threw on the hoodie and your leggings, and sure enough, Max was slumped on the couch in the living room. Lando woke him, and the three of you headed out.

Luckily, you’d thought to grab a hat and sunglasses, feeling the effects of the night before. Lando’s hand rested on your thigh as he drove, and you rolled your eyes at Max’s cheeky grin. The restaurant was only a few minutes away, and you could barely wait to dig into the menu.

Suddenly, a girl approached your table. Lando looked up, assuming she was a fan, but her gaze was on you, her face alight with excitement.

“I’m a huge fan of your books!” she exclaimed, trying to contain her excitement. You smirked as Lando’s face fell, while Max burst into laughter.

“Thank you so much!” you said, grinning. “Which one’s your favorite?”

“The first in the trilogy,” she replied. “I love Axel. Actually, I have it with me—would you mind signing it?”

“Of course!” you said, signing her book. “I really appreciate the support.”

After the fan left, Lando still looked stunned, and you couldn’t help but tease him.

"Looks like I’m not the only one with fans," you said, nudging him playfully.

He shook his head, chuckling. “Yeah, yeah… maybe I need to read this trilogy of yours.”

Max leaned in with a grin. “Oh, you should. Axel’s way cooler than you.”

You rolled your eyes, but when you glanced over, you noticed Lando’s gaze lingering on you. His smile softened as he reached for your hand under the table, lacing his fingers with yours. Surprised, you met his eyes, which were warmer than you’d ever seen.

“I’m glad you came over last night,” he said quietly, almost like a confession.

Blushing, you squeezed his hand. “Me too.”

The rest of the breakfast was filled with laughter and playful banter, but every so often, you’d catch each other’s eye and share a small, secret smile. When it was time to leave, Lando slipped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close as you walked back to the car.

As he drove you home, he kept glancing over, as if he couldn’t help but steal little glimpses of you. Finally, he broke the silence, his voice soft.

“Do you think we could go out some time? Maybe for dinner?”

Heart fluttering, you smiled and looked at him. “I’d like that.”

Lando grinned, reaching over to squeeze your hand.

[sturnioz]

it doesn't matter if exgf!reader is on a date, toxicex!matt will always be there to crash it.

being on your first date in a long while makes you feel nervous.

you're trying your best to pay attention—to listen intently, to engage in conversation, to nod along and smile when it's appropriate—but your hands keep clamming up and your stomach swirls uncomfortably, leaving you a fidgeting mess in your seat.

you really like this guy, you do. he's sweet and caring, he's interested in getting to know you, he's even bought you flowers. in fairness, they weren't your favourite, but it's the thought that counts.

but you feel awful every time when the guy looks down at his plate to scoop up some food on his fork, your gaze flits over his shoulder, seeing matt sit at the bar, his eyes locked on you—a smirk on his lips and a drink in hand.

he arrived five minutes after you and your date settled down at your table, and he hasn't looked away from you since. he's been watching you, rolling his eyes and shaking his head with a smile whenever your date reaches over to caress your hand mid conversation or thumb at the corner of your lips after you've eaten, careful not to ruin your lipstick.

you feel foolish for thinking that would be it, just some staring and snide facial expressions, but no. that'll never be just it.

you continue to try and focus on your date, on his warm smile and kind eyes, but the weight off matt's presence becomes suffocating, and you can't shake the feeling that he's waiting for just the right moment to strike.

and then, it happens.

as your date leans forward, telling you something about his family life, you hear the scrape of a barstool against the floor, and your stomach drops—already smelling the familiar scent of matt's cologne.

"well... didn't think i'd be seein' you here, angel."

his voice cuts through the air, mocking, with just the subtle hint of laughter bubbling beneath the surface. you freeze, and your date blinks, caught off guard, his smile faltering as he glances up at matt now standing at the edge of your table.

you don't need to look at matt to know what he's doing—that smug grin that makes goosebumps rise to your skin, the way he oh so casually leans an arm on the back of your chair, invading your space like he owns it... like he owns you.

"who's this...?" you date asks politely, though his confusion is clear.

matt doesn't answer right away, in fact, he seems to be waiting for you to answer for him—to spill the truth on your relationship, but you can't.

"i'm matt," he decides to extend a hand out, but the gesture feels more like a taunt than an introduction. "i'm a, uh, close friend of hers."

your chest tightens, and you feel the warmth rise to your cheeks. you wish, more than anything, to snap out of the paralysis gripping you—to say something—but the words stick in your throat like glue.

matt doesn't miss a beat as he shifts his attention to you though, gripping the back of your chair. "right, angel?"

your date frowns, his eyes darting to you for clarification, but matt doesn't give you a chance to find your voice.

"what? haven't told him about me?" matt pushes, clicking his tongue against his teeth with a shake of his head. "c'mon... tell him all the fun stuff, angel. tell him how well i know you."

your date looks just as uncomfortable as you do now, his jaw tightening as he glances between you and matt. "how exactly do you two know each other?"

matt lets out a low laugh, shaking his head again as if the question itself amuses him. "oh, we go waaay back, don't we?" his voice dips lower, the faux affection in his tone making you tense up. "y'know i saw her last weekend? yeah.. only saw her from behind, though. had her face down in her b—"

your stomach churns as you shoot up from your chair, the legs scraping against the flooring as you grab matt's arm, too humiliated to give your date an apologetic look as you scurry toward the exit with matt in tow, dragging him like your life depended on it.

the cool night air stings your cheeks as you shove the restaurant door open, refusing to meet the eyes of other diners as they stare at you both in surprise and curiosity. your heart pounds in your chest, your breaths coming out in short pants as you finally reach the parking lot.

"a-are you—why would you—how—" your voice cracks as fresh tears blur your vision, releasing his arm to push him back with a shaky shove. "wha-what the hell is wrong with you? can't you just.. just leave me alone?"

matt just stands there, brushing off his sleeve as if your outburst is nothing more than an inconvenience. his smirk is still there, amused, like he's finding this situation hilarious.

"leave you alone?" he repeats, his tone laced with mock hurt. "c'mon, angel... don't act like that..."

your shake your head, wiping furiously at the tears streaming down your cheeks. "you don't get to do this. you can't keep doing this, you can't—"

matt steps closer, his hands on your face, cupping your cheeks with a gentleness that feels all so wrong. his thumbs brush away your tears, and despite your humiliation and anger, your melt under his touch—like you always do.

"shhh," he coos softly, soothing in a way that makes your stomach twist. "look so fuckin' pretty when you cry..."

"matt—"

"you're too sensitive, y'know?" he cuts you off, his grip tightening on your chin to force your head up to meet his gaze. "i was just lettin' your date know the truth, yeah? lettin' him know he can't play with what's mine."

"m'not yours," you manage to choke out, though your voice is barely above a whisper.

matt's smile widens, and he lets out a low chuckle, scrunching his nose up like you've just said something adorable. "oh, angel... you can tell yourself that all you want, but we know s'not true. you're mine. you've always been mine, and no one is gonna change that."

you feel a fresh wave of tears spilling over, but matt doesn't let go. he strokes your cheeks, his touch almost tender as he shushes you again.

"s'okay, baby," he whispers, bringing you into his chest, patting your hair condescendingly. "i know you think you're mad at me, but in reality, you're just mad because y'know i'm right. that guy back there? your date? he doesn't get you like i do, yeah? doesn't even know how to handle you."

you shake your head again, but it's weak—half-hearted. you despise how his words wrap around you so easily, how they dig into your weak points he knows so abundantly well.

"you.. you don't know anything," you sniffle, though even you don't believe it.

matt pulls back from the hug, tilting his head, studying you. "i know everything about you, and you know it too. s'why you dragged me out here, right? 'cos no matter how much you constantly tell yourself that you've moved on, you'll always come back to me."

his words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you can't breathe. you want to scream at him, to tell him he's so wrong, but the words won't come out—not when there's a part of you that fully believes his words. instead, you just stand there, trembling in his grasp as he pulls you back in to press a kiss to your forehead.

"there's my girl," he murmurs, his voice filled with satisfaction. "m'gonna take you home, hm? with me. exactly what you need. i got you, angel. i got you."

divider credits. @/sisterlucifergraphics

© STURNIOZ

[blackbird5154]

Terzo was a socialist

Maybe even a communist. There are too many hints to ignore. He seems to have been so preoccupied with the theme of class inequality that it ran as a leitmotif throughout his era.

1. The Popestar cover shows him as Lenin on the Palace of Soviets (an unbuilt monumental Soviet project). Lenin was a revolutor, the creator of the first socialist state in world history (USSR) and a Marxist theorist.

2. Papa is associated with Maschinenmensch from the movie "Metropolis" in many official artworks.

"Metropolis" was the main inspiration for the creation of Meliora. The world of Metropolis is stratified in the same way as Meliora's world. It highlights the problem of the gap between the workers and the ruling class. While the rich enjoy life, the working class is exhausted from maintaining the industrial machine. The top and bottom do not understand each other, they speak a different language, as in the myth of the Tower of Babel. "The mediator between the head and the hands must be the heart," says the preacher Maria, suggesting a peaceful way of settlement. At one point the peaceful preacher is replaced by the satanic Maschinenmensch, who excites the crowd and raises the working class to fight the ruling class by staging a revolution. The movie condemns this path, but Terzo may have a different opinion. After all, in this whole story it is with Maschinenmensch and not with Maria that he is identified.

3. Terzo's character in Meliora world, Mysterious Spectre, is essentially a revolutionary as well. When in the FTPTTP music video Madam Satan hands him a cup with a magical drink, he gets a vision of a world order in which oligarchs have enslaved the people with the power of electricity. Spectre refuses to participate in this scheme, becomes Papa and begins to fight for the redistribution of power.

4. Before performing Mummy Dust, Terzo said that Mammon (the demon of wealth and opulence) is the one deity we humans worship every day.

PAPA III: Basically we're gonna do one heavy motherfucker about one evil motherfucker. This motherfucker is so evil that he starts all wars, controls all poverty and make us hate each other and kill each other. And we all bow for him every day. So, we've written a song about him and his name is Mammon.

Splendid Lille, 2016/02/01

Although as a Satanist he is supposed to sympathize with demons, I think he was speaking in a negative way because—

5. —Also before Mummy Dust he mocked Trump saying "he's not president" and demeaning him in all sorts of ways.

PAPA III: This song is about greed, money, power... Trump!

September 17th at revolution rock festival in Mashantucket

I think Mammon and Trump embody the same principle for Terzo (since Trump is a businessman and billionaire who came to power), and that principle he hates.

So we know what he sees as the root of social evil (or one of the roots), and in the videos he seems to offer a quite concrete political program. It's also interesting in this sense to parse The Prologue, which I think is a manifesto for the third era. Here are a few quotes:

The devil’s fall came only after his great rebellion, a single and simple act of looking into the face of authority and saying, “I am glorious.”

Above the shining city of Meloria, dirigibles float like angels, ever watchful. Under the streets, Papa Emeritus III is gathering his new flock. He is a shepherd of black sheep, the sewers are his cathedral.

Going from “The Pinnacle to the Pit” is not the punishment it was meant to be. It is freedom to struggle against injustice, to march with crowns and sceptres. Here in the pit, we are all royalty now.

Papa Emeritus III. A prologue and introduction

[Part 9] [Encyclopedia of Terzo]

[insomniac4000]

Three Peaks-ChrisMD

I had to write this after the video yesterday despite having some requests still in and writing a Charity match fic....

The brisk morning air bit at Chris’s cheeks as he tightened the straps on his hiking backpack. Standing in the shadow of Ben Nevis, the highest peak in Scotland, the mountain loomed like a gray giant, its summit lost in a wisp of cloud. Chris had his hands clasped in front of him as he always did when he did the introductions to his video, addressing the camera ready to capture the beginning of what he hoped would be one of his second channel’s most ambitious videos yet. He was slightly nervous as it was a shift from his usual football content.

“Alright, lads and lady,” Chris called, spinning to face the group with his usual boyish grin. “Let’s get the obligatory intro out of the way before we regret ever agreeing to this.”

“That’s just every ChrisMD video ever,” ArthurTV clapped back causing laughs and jeers from the group, the group being; Harry Lewis who had already taken the role of morale officer, cracking jokes about the group’s preparedness—or lack thereof. Arthur Hill, visibly unsure about what he’d signed up for, leaned heavily on his walking poles, a sheepish smile on his face. ArthurTV and George Clarkeey exchanged knowing glances, already anticipating chaos. ReevHD was characteristically quiet, scanning the trail ahead with determination like he did with every challenge.

And then there was Y/n.

Chris tried not to let his gaze linger on her, but it was impossible not to notice how effortlessly she seemed to fit into the moment. At 5'2", she was dwarfed by the towering peaks around them, but her petite frame radiated confidence. Her auburn curls were tied up in a high pony tail but already a slight bit of frizz was poking out from the tie, showing her imperfections she embarced and her hazel eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and mischief.

“Ready to prove short people can climb mountains too?” Y/n teased, catching Chris’s eye.

“Short people?” Harry cut in with mock horror. “You and Chris barely make one normal-sized person!”

The others burst into laughter as Chris groaned. “Here we go,” he muttered, though he couldn’t help but smile.

“Team Hobbit in full force,” George added, slinging an arm around Chris’s shoulders. “Shire squad, reporting for duty.”

Y/n rolled her eyes but played along, giving Chris a playful nudge. “Come on, Frodo, let’s show them how it’s done.”

The group set off, their boots crunching against the ground. The first leg of the journey was deceptively easy, winding through forests and open meadows. Chris found himself falling into step beside Y/n, their conversation flowing as naturally as the babbling brooks they passed.

“This should be a doddle for you considering your videos,” Chris said, stealing a sideways glance at her. “Any near-death experiences you haven’t told me about yet?”

Y/n chuckled, adjusting her backpack. “Oh, plenty. But I’ll save those stories for when we’re at the summit. You know, motivation to keep climbing.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Chris replied, his smile lingering.

Behind them, Harry and George were already trying to outpace each other, their competitive streaks on full display. Arthur Hill lagged slightly, his breath coming in short gasps.

“You alright back there, Arthur?” Reev called, slowing his pace to check on him.

“Still alive,” Arthur wheezed, earning a round of good-natured laughs.

As the group ascended, the trail grew steeper and more rugged, rocks jutted out at awkward angles.Y/n, used to navigating tricky terrain from her travels, moved with practiced ease, her short legs propelling her upward with surprising speed.

“Alright, we get it,” George said, feigning exasperation as Y/n waited for the rest of them at a particularly steep section. “You’re secretly a mountain goat.”

“Just embrace your inner hobbit,” Y/n shot back, grinning.

“Speaking of hobbits,” Harry said, glancing at Chris, “you keeping up, mate? Or do we need to carry you?”

“Funny,” Chris replied, though he was grateful for the excuse to slow his pace. Y/n waited for him, her expression softening.

“You’re doing great,” she said quietly, her voice carrying only to him.

Chris felt his chest tighten, but he pushed the feeling aside. “Thanks,” he managed, giving her a small smile.

By the time they reached the halfway point, the group was a mix of exhilaration and exhaustion. They paused to refuel, pulling out energy bars and water bottles. The wind whipped around them, colder and more insistent as they climbed higher.

Arthur Hill collapsed onto a rock, his face red but determined. “This is... definitely harder than I thought,” he admitted between gulps of water.

“You’re doing better than I expected,” Y/n encouraged, earning a grateful smile from him.

The teasing eased for a while as the group focused on the gruelling climb. The summit felt tantalizingly close yet maddeningly out of reach as the trail grew steeper and the air thinner. Y/n took the lead, her smaller frame navigating the rocky terrain with agility that left the others scrambling to keep up.

Chris stayed close behind her, his own shorter stature making the climb a little easier compared to the taller guys, who were visibly struggling.

“Bet you’re glad to have another hobbit around now,” Y/n teased over her shoulder, her cheeks flushed from the cold and exertion.

Chris laughed, shaking his head. “Never thought I’d say this, but yeah, maybe it’s not so bad.”

The summit finally came into view, on a good day it probably would have been an incredible view but the British weather was typical and as the group had looked out all they could see was fog. Still though, this was the tallest peak and they were at the top.

“We did it!” Harry yelled, throwing his arms in the air.

Y/n grinned, pulling out her camera to capture the moment. She turned it toward Chris, who was leaning on his trekking pole, looking both exhilarated and exhausted.

“How does it feel to conquer peak one?” she asked, the camera trained on him.

“Cold,” Chris deadpanned, earning a laugh from the group.

They spent a few precious minutes taking in the view, snapping photos, and catching their breath. But the celebration was short-lived as Chris checked his watch.

“We’re behind schedule,” he announced, his tone regretful. “We’ve got to get moving if we’re going to stay on track.”

As they began their descent, the mood remained light despite the ticking clock. The banter continued, with the group teasing Arthur Hill for his earlier struggles and Chris and Y/n for their so-called “hobbit couple” status.

Chris found himself walking beside Y/n again, their shoulders brushing as they navigated the narrow trail.

“Think we’ll survive the next two peaks?” he asked, his tone half-joking.

Y/n glanced at him, her hazel eyes warm. “If you stick with me, Frodo, I think we’ll be alright.”

Chris felt a flicker of hope, small but persistent, that maybe, just maybe, this challenge would lead to more than just a great video.

As the group reached the base of Ben Nevis and prepared to drive to Scafell Pike, the teasing continued, but so did the camaraderie. And for Chris, the chemistry he felt with Y/n was becoming harder to ignore.

Chris adjusted the camera, framing himself in the shadow of Scafell Pike, the tallest mountain in England. The crisp afternoon sunlight bathed the rolling hills of the Lake District, a stark contrast to the biting wind they had endured on Ben Nevis.

"Alright, peak two," Chris’s voiceover rang out. “Quick update: we’ve just finished a very cosy van ride—by cosy, I mean crammed—with practically no leg room. But that wasn’t a problem for two of the members of the group.”

The screen then filled with a picture of Chris and Y/n squeezed into a corner of the van, her head resting sleepily on his shoulder while they both grinned. Their legs, stretched toward the camera, showed just how much space the pair had, still having some room to swing their smaller legs, in stark contrast to the rest of the group.

The video then continued and now it showed the group gathered around, fastening their jackets and strapping on their backpacks. Harry stretched dramatically, groaning about his sore legs, while George filmed Arthur Hill struggling to zip his jacket.

"You alright there, mate?" George teased.

"Not really," Arthur Hill admitted, but his grin betrayed his determination to keep going.

As they started the climb, the monumental task settled on everyone once again, time was ticking away from them. The steep incline and rocky path demanded focus, and the chatter from the Ben Nevis climb faded into heavy breaths and occasional bursts of laughter. Y/n, as usual, took the lead, her smaller frame navigating the terrain with ease. Chris stuck close to her, their steps often falling into sync.

It wasn’t long until Arthur Hill faltered, wincing as he leaned against his trekking pole.

"Hold up," Reev called, motioning for the group to stop. "Arthur, you good?"

Arthur shook his head. "I’ve got an old injury and it was worse yesterday, I work up this morning thinking that I was okay but it’s really not good at all,” the musician whined a little, he was well aware he was the one who was slowing everyone down and he was in a considering amount of pain now too.

The group exchanged concerned glances.

"Are you going to sit this one out?" Chris said gently, resting a hand on Arthur’s shoulder.

Arthur hesitated, his face a mix of frustration and relief. "Yeah, I think I have to."

They helped him set up a small camp just off the path, ensuring he had water, snacks, and a comfortable spot to rest.

"Don’t worry about me," Arthur said, waving them off. "I’ll cheer you on from here. Just make sure to take loads of embarrassing photos for me to miss out on."

With a final round of reassurances, the group continued upward, joking at Arthur’s position as he laid still on the grass by a rock. As the group continued the summit grew closer with every step. Chris felt his chest tighten, but this time it wasn’t just the exertion.

His parents were waiting at the top.

They had moved to the Lake District from Jersey recently, and while he loved seeing them, introducing them to his friends—especially Y/n—brought a mix of excitement and nerves.

As they reached the peak George and ArthurTV tried to lighten the mood and keep morale up by making jokes about Chris’s mother.

When the group finally crested the summit, they were greeted by Chris’s mum and dad, both bundled in warm coats and waving enthusiastically.

Harry and ArthurTV greeted Chris’s parents like old friends, their laughter and inside jokes echoing across the mountaintop. Y/n, however, hung back, fidgeting with her gloves wondering why she felt so nervous, Chris was only a friend.

Chris noticed and leaned closer to her. "You alright?"

"Yeah," Y/n said quickly, though her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. "I just… don’t want to make a bad impression."

Chris chuckled. "You’ve got nothing to worry about. They’ll love you."

As if to prove his point, his mum approached Y/n with open arms. "You must be Y/n," she said warmly. "Chris has told us so much about you."

Y/n’s cheeks flushed, but she returned the hug. "All good things, I hope."

"Of course," Chris’s mum replied with a wink.

To Y/n’s relief, the conversation flowed naturally. She found herself laughing with Chris’s parents, sharing stories about her travels and listening to tales from their new life in the Lake District.

"You’ve got a good group here," Chris’s dad said, clapping him on the back.

"The best," Chris agreed, his gaze flicking to Y/n.

After a round of photos and a quick snack break, they began their descent. The steep path required concentration, but Chris took the opportunity to start a conversation he’d been mulling over for weeks.

The voiceover took over again, this time the tone changing to a more serious one as Chris explained he wanted to do more videos talking about mental health he explained his struggles with anxiety for years, ruminating thoughts, intrusive stuff but also what had helped him try and get through it so he was now in a much better place. One by one he spoke to each of his friends about mental health, opening up to each other and it was a change of pace from their usual jokes and banter.

Y/n was someone who had also been very opened about her mental health and their conversation could have lasted for days.

Y/n, walking beside Chris, glanced at him thoughtfully. "How different is it for men, though?" she asked. "I mean, society’s expectations and all that."

Chris paused, considering her question. "It’s hard. There’s this pressure to be… strong, or like, unemotional. But that’s changing. Slowly. What about you? You’ve been really open about your journey, haven’t you?"

Y/n nodded, adjusting her grip on her trekking pole. "I try to be. It’s not easy, though. There’s still so much stigma. But I think the more we talk about it, the more we help people feel less alone."

Chris smiled at her. "You’ve helped me, you know. Just by being so honest."

Y/n’s cheeks turned pink, and she looked away. "You’ve helped me too."

Their conversation was interrupted when Y/n’s foot slipped on a loose rock. She gasped, her arms flailing, but Chris caught her hand just in time.

"You alright?" he asked, steadying her.

"Yeah, just my dignity taking a hit," she said, laughing as she regained her balance.

Chris didn’t let go of her hand right away, and when he did, it was with a lingering warmth that neither of them acknowledged.

The rest of the descent was filled with lighter conversations, the group joking about their shared exhaustion and Arthur Hill’s missed summit.

As they reached the base of Scafell Pike, Chris felt a renewed sense of purpose. Two peaks down, one to go. They had decided that twenty four hours was now long gone but they were going to enjoy the journey for what it is.

The glow of determination fueled the group as they loaded into the van, but the energy from the morning had shifted. Arthur Hill, sitting on a bench with his leg propped up and wrapped in a bandage, waved them off with Harry by his side.

"Be safe!" Arthur called. "And don’t forget to take a victory photo at the top of Snowdon—preferably one where Jamie doesn’t look like he’s about to pass out!"

Jamie, who had also been struggling a little shot him a mock glare.

With the group a little smaller now, the drive to Snowdonia was quieter. Chris glanced back at Y/n, who had claimed the backseat corner. Her head leaned against the window, her auburn curls falling softly over her face as she watched the scenery blur into darkness.

“You alright back there, Y/n?” Chris asked, his voice low.

She turned and smiled, though it was softer than usual. “Yeah, just thinking about how this’ll feel tomorrow when my legs refuse to work.”

The van erupted into knowing laughter.

 “This isn’t about the time,” Chris said as they stretched at the base of the mountain, the cold night air biting at their exposed skin. “It’s about finishing what we started.”

Y/n gave him an approving nod. “That’s what it’s all about. Let’s do it.”

The climb up Snowdon was quieter than the others, the fatigue settling deep in their muscles. The darkness added a layer of challenge, with headlamps and flashlights casting eerie shadows across the rocky path.

“Watch your step,” Reev warned as they navigated a narrow ridge.

There were a few stumbles—George slipping onto his hands and knees, ArthurTV catching himself on a low rock—but no injuries. Every so often, the group paused, catching their breath and sipping water, their chatter growing lighter with every stop.

At last, the summit came into view. The cold wind whipped around them as they reached the peak, and for a moment, no one said a word.

Then Reev broke the silence. “We actually did it.”

“Almost,” Chris corrected. “We still have to get down.”

“Oh, don’t ruin the moment,” Y/n teased, nudging him lightly.

The group broke into hugs, laughing through their exhaustion as they celebrated. Chris lingered in Y/n’s embrace, feeling the warmth of her against the cold air.

Someone snapped a photo, capturing their silhouettes against the starry sky.

The descent was slow and careful especially as night was falling now and torches were failing. The rocks, slick with evening dew, made each step treacherous. Y/n stuck close to Chris, their headlamps bobbing in unison as they navigated the terrain.

“I don’t know how you talked me into this,” Y/n joked, her voice hushed in the quiet of the night.

“You’re the challenge queen,” Chris replied. “I thought this would be your idea of fun.”

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “I usually have better planning, fewer risks of breaking an ankle in the dark.”

Chris smiled but noticed her pensive expression. “You okay?”

Y/n hesitated before answering. “Yeah. I just… I’ve been thinking a lot on this trip. About where I’m going, what I want. It’s hard not to when you’re staring down mountains, you know?”

“I get that,” Chris said, his voice thoughtful. “Climbing a mountain does have a way of putting things in perspective.”

They walked in silence for a moment before Y/n continued. “I’ve been doing YouTube for over a decade. I love it, but sometimes I wonder if I’m just… running away from things by traveling so much. Like, maybe if I stop, I’ll have to face everything I’ve been avoiding.”

Chris’s chest tightened at her honesty. “I don’t think you’re running away,” he said softly. “I think you’re just searching for what makes you happy. And that’s not a bad thing.”

Y/n looked at him, her hazel eyes reflecting the beam of his headlamp. “You really think that?”

“Yeah, I do,” Chris replied. “You’ve inspired so many people—including me. You’ve got this way of making even the toughest situations seem like an adventure.”

Y/n smiled, a genuine, heartfelt expression that made Chris’s stomach flip. “Thanks, Chris. That means a lot.”

They walked a little further before Y/n asked, “What about you? What are you searching for?”

Chris exhaled, his breath visible in the cold air. “Honestly? I’m not sure. I’ve spent so much time focusing on work, on videos, that I’ve kind of lost sight of what’s next. But being here, with you guys, it reminds me of what’s important. It’s not just about the videos or the views—it’s about the connections we make along the way.”

Y/n reached out, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “That’s a good answer.”

Chris chuckled, his heart racing at the contact. “Glad you approve.”

As they continued down the mountain, Chris couldn’t help but glance at Y/n every so often. She looked tired but content, her curls glowing faintly in the moonlight. Chris couldn’t help but think this trip was very special for a multitude for reasons.

In the comments, viewers had plenty to say.

“Y/n and Chris definitely have something going on. The chemistry is undeniable!” “Chris catching Y/n when she slipped? Literal couple goals.” “The ‘hobbit couple’ strikes again! Just admit you’re perfect for each other already.” “Loved the mental health chat. So important to hear men like Chris opening up. Thanks for this, mate.”

Chris scrolled through the comments later that night, a smile tugging at his lips. He glanced at his phone, debating whether to message Y/n.

Before he could decide, his phone buzzed with a message from her.

Y/n: “Can’t believe we actually did it. Thanks for being my rock on the trip. (Haha get it?) 😊”

Chris grinned, his fingers hovering over the keyboard before typing a response.

Chris: “That was awful, but really couldn’t have done it without you. Hobbit squad for life. 🏔️”

Chris bit his lip as he then typed out the message “Dinner?” three times before deleting it each time. Something had changed in him one day but was he ready for another challenge?

[eccentricwritingbaby]

can we make this work?

carlos sainz jr x norris!reader

summary - carlos falls for lando's sister, lando forbids it, you and carlos push to get your brother and his best friend back

masterlist

-

“...and this is my sister, y/n,” lando proceeds to finish off the family tree of introductions towards his spanish teammate. carlos’ eyes meet yours and you both feel it, the pull towards each other.

“hola, y/n” carlos gives a shy handshake in your direction as you do not fail to leave his eye contact. you whisper a quiet ‘hi’ back towards him and he flashes you a smile, you returning it with ease. lando narrows his concern at your interaction and interrupts quickly, pulling you away from his teammate. 

“c’mon, y/n, i have so much more to show you around here,” 

“calm down, lan,” you chuckle at your little brother, “i’m here all weekend, you do know that right?”

“ha - ha,” he mocks back to you, “i just don’t need my sister running off with a certain spanish driver all weekend when i haven’t seen her in a month,”

“you’re right,” you sigh and glance at lando, “i should go visit my boyfriend, fernando, while i can get the chance-”

“you know who i meannnn,” lando whines, all while continuing to drag you through the paddock. 

“lan, i just met carlos, nothing’s happening,” you laugh again at his ridiculous accusations, “how slutty do you even think i am?”

“it’s not all about little miss y/n, i saw the way he looked at you, i have my doubts but he is off limits, i swear to go-”

“wait,” you cut him off sharply, “how’d he look at me?”

“oh SHUT IT”

-

“shhh, hermosa,” carlos whispered into your ear, “can’t have your brother hearing, hm?” you could only shake out a nod as your boyfriend continued to ravish your neck in between kissing, sucking, and biting. small moans escaped here and there as carlos continued to push you against the door of his driver's room. 

it had been two years since that day you both had met. ever since then, you both were enamored with each other. your actual relationship began about a year ago when carlos moved to ferrari. before then, it was random hookups when you were back home in england as he was there for mclaren, or when you would make your appearance at races. 

now, though, now, you are happier than ever. your work had you in italy for the past five years and it had never felt fully at home. until he moved there. you connected quite easily again and the attraction took over, leading to the beautiful beginning of your serious relationship. carlos sainz had a way of making you feel comfortable, but not bored. loved, but not suffocated. he had taken over your heart and you had no intention of kicking him out. but there was an issue. your shit of a little brother. and little did either of you know, your perfect bubble of love would be popped very soon. 

two knocks was all it took before lando pushed the door open into the drivers room. you pushed carlos away from you as fast as you could but there was no use. lando was fuming. 

“what. the hell. is going on here?” your brother muttered out in shock. 

“lan, i can expla-” you began before lando gave you a look and you immediately shut down. 

“i’m not asking you, y/n. i’m asking him,” the mclaren driver pointed directly to your boyfriend, accusing finger waving toward his face. 

“okay, lando, just take it easy,” carlos attempts to calm your brother, he pulls his hands up in defense and lando keeps pushing toward him.

“no. no, i am not going to ‘just take it easy’. you both have lied to me,” he continues as he looks rapidly between the both of you, “but you,” he then turns his disgust to carlos, “i know what you do to your girlfriends. that is not touching my sister,”

“lando, please, i am a grown woman who makes her own decisions,” you push through his accusation, “you are not going to be able to protect me from everything and you haven’t protected me from everything. for fuck’s sake lan, dad didn’t even act this way when he found out,”

“what?” lando stands shocked in front of you.

“i said, dad didn-”

“I HEARD!” your brother cuts you off quickly, “dad knows before me? who else knows?”

“well mum for starters, and cisca and-”

“oh my god, y/n! you told everyone before me?”

“well i knew you’d act this way! which is crazy by the way,” you finish your telling off as both your boyfriend and you anxiously wait for his response. 

“both of you,” he responds quietly, “both of you just leave me alone,” lando proceeds to make his way to the door and he solemnly shakes his head in defeat. once the door is shut, carlos faces you with the same expression evident in his own eyes. 

“shouldn’t we go after him?”

“no, he’s been like this since he was little. he needs his time to himself to think,” you shake your head, “are you alright?”

carlos takes your hands in his and pulls you closer to him, “i’m fine. i’m sorry, mi amor, i’ll fix this,”

“it’s not your fault, carlos. you have nothing to apologize for. maybe my parents will talk some sense into him,” you glance up at him and place a soft kiss onto his lips before continuing, “are we, you know, okay?”

“si, si,” carlos nods fervently, “of course, i don’t want anything between us to change,”

“okay, love, good. neither do i,”

-

a week had gone by and neither you nor carlos had heard from lando. you were beyond concerned until your parents informed you he was okay, just needed to process. you took their advice to let it all just sit, but carlos could tell you were getting antsy. even though lando and you had your differences and times apart, you were like his second mother. he went to you for anything big in his life. you were his role model, his best friend. and he was yours. the time apart was killing you. 

with that, carlos took it upon himself to fix the situation. ultimately he felt it was his fault, with lando’s words continuously echoing in his ears, ‘i know what you do to your girlfriends. that is not touching my sister’. carlos can admit he’s had a rocky past with girls before, but you were different. he cared on a different level than he ever had. and the ring that was safely tucked into the bottom drawer of his dresser, hidden under a few pairs of socks for extra measure, said beyond otherwise. 

you sat up when you watched your boyfriend grab his keys and jacket, making his way to the door of the hotel room you were staying in before the race weekend. 

“where are you headed, love?” you gently ask in his direction. 

“i’m going out to see charles, do you want to join? it’ll only be for a minute with our press officer,” carlos lies with ease, knowing you wouldn’t want to join him for a boring meeting. and just as he predicted, you scrunched up your face in disgust and shook your head. your boyfriend then let out a laugh and bent down to say goodbye in the form of a kiss, you hummed into it and smiled as he pulled away. with your light whisper of ‘hurry back, i’ll miss you’ carlos just smiles and nods as he heads out. 

instead of making his way to charles’ room at 205, he makes his way up to the third floor to room 307, where your brother was. two knocks once again, oh the irony, and lando is pulling the door open to face carlos. he rolls his eyes and attempts to slam the door but your boyfriend brings that to a halt. 

“wait, wait. lando please just listen,” carlos pleads to your brother.

“what?” lando speaks sharply, “you’ve got one minute and the clock is ticking, so let’s go,”

“lando, please. y/n and i have been serious for a year now, i have no intention of hurting her,”

“a year?! a year. you are not helping your case here, you both have been lying to me for a year?!”

“okay, lando i understand why you’re upset but please just hear me out,” carlos sighs at your brothers dramatics, “i love your sister, i am serious about your sister. we didn’t tell you because she needed time. i respect her, and her wishes. but please, i am begging you to understand that i love and cherish her,”

“what do you want me to do? carlos i have seen you leave a trail of broken hearts in your wake, you are not adding my sister to that,”

“but i won’t. i promise. would i have bought this if i wasn’t serious?” with that question carlos pulls the engagement ring he had bought you out of his pocket and pushes it toward your brother, “now i’ve been waiting until we’re both ready, and i still need your parents blessing, but i bought it because i am serious about your sister. i love her, lando,”

“you big sap,” lando brushes off the moment with a chuckle, “fine, i understand. but if you do hurt her i swear-”

“you’ll kill me i know,” carlos finishes for him, “now can you please come with me to talk to her, she misses you much more than she’s willing to admit,”

“ya i will, i’ve missed her too,”

“i know, the norris genes are filled with stubbornness i swear,” carlos laughs along with his now friend as they head down to the second floor in order to appease your heart and mind. 

as you hear carlos unlock the hotel room door, you jump off the couch in order to greet him, yet falter as you stare into your brothers eyes. 

“what are you doing here?” you ask softly.

“i came because carlos spoke to me,” at lando’s admission your eyes find your boyfriends and he gives you an apologetic smile, “listen, y/n. i overreacted. i just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be hurt,”

“i am a grown woman, lan. hell, i’m older than you! i practically raised you following you around to races. i can take care of myself, make my own decisions thank you very much,” your voice level remains calm but lando can tell you’re irritated. 

“i’m sorry, y/n. i really am,”

“then tell me and carlos you’re happy for us,” you plainly state. 

“what? why-”

“just say it, i need to hear you say it,” the irritation comes out a bit in your push for approval as you stare down your little brother.

“i’m really happy for you both, y/n. now can i have my big sister back? please?” you launch yourself into his arms at his question and laugh with a bit of pride and a lot of joy. 

“she never left, lando,” carlos adds on from a few feet away where he stands. both the norris siblings look over at carlos and beckon him closer into the hug. 

and to that, with your two favorite boys at peace, your heart beat practically out of your chest. 

[mirohlayo]

CHASE MY DREAM(S)

( Lewis has one last dream to fulfill, well if you don't count the most important one. )

warning : a lil boring introduction, all fluffy

note : i want a Lewis in my life pls

word count : 1.3k

Mercedes. Lewis Hamilton. Two names that both worked perfectly. We always likened them to one another, like pieces of a puzzle that fit together. As soon as we thought of one, we thought of the other.

However, the seven time Formula 1 world champion struggled to achieve victories and podiums, and his formerly usual appearances on these three steps were much less frequent, rare and almost... non existent. It was not his lack of experience that held him back, Lewis was surely the most experienced on the current grid, and that without a doubt.

Rather, it was his opponents, a certain team and a certain driver. RedBull and Max Verstappen. Many of Lewis' fans will say that he was robbed of his eighth championship, in 2021, but we are not here to debate that subject. The loyal Mercedes driver doubted his choices, his actions and his performances. His thoughts wandered, because at what price could he afford this eighth championship that he dreamed of so much?

The price to pay was surely great and fatal. Leaving the team for which he raced, the one with whom he has always been faithful and loyal for 11 years. But after 3 years without success, maybe a new start will do him good, and maybe this change will turn everything upside down. He still had a dream to accomplish, this eighth championship to win. Well, to be honest, he still had two dreams to fulfill.

This famous championship, as previously announced, and then, her. This person who has just joined Lewis in his driver room. This pretty woman who has known him for several years now. The one for whom Lewis' heart seemed to melt in an instant as soon as he laid eyes on her.

She looked like a dream. Angelic and almost unreal. The kind of face you can admire for hours, and the kind of voice you can listen to speak for hours because there was an inexplicable sweetness emanating from it. It was one of Lewis's most beautiful dreams. To be by her side forever, to finally have the courage to offer her a life together, a love of the strongest.

He took her in his arms, squeezing her gently. He could let himself go in these embraces, and show her his weaknesses and his fears. She knew him by heart now, and she worried a lot about his mental health and his career choices. She was perfect in his eyes. “Still thinking about your contract, mhh?” Lewis chuckled weakly, almost ironically. He expected you to ask him this question.

His eyes, where a glow that you couldn't describe danced, met yours. You looked for him, and behind those pupils that were full of thousands of different feelings, you tried to find the words he was trying to say. The true feelings he felt deep inside. He was still smiling weakly, his gaze softened by your face. "I think deep down I made the right choice, Y/n. It's just that leaving Mercedes after all these years..."

He couldn't manage to finish his sentence, looking down and staring at your feet face to face. He felt totally exposed, lacking in confidence and full of doubts. Maybe a little shameful. His grip had loosened, his hands resting in the hollow of your hips. "They haven't really listened to you over the last two years, Lewis... as if you weren't their driver, as if the vision of a seven time Formula 1 champion who drives every day had no importance"

You manage to extract another mocking laugh from Lewis, who, despite his love for this team, totally agreed with your words. His racing team had been indifferent to his suggestions and comments. He played nervously with his fingers. You could feel the tension and stress in him, and seeing him like this broke your heart. The man in front of you didn't deserve this.

You grabbed his hands gently, separating them from each other. Lewis looked up, his expression completely dejected. He looked like he was about to cry and you couldn’t stand the sight anymore. Wrapping your arms around his back, you took care to gently guide his head onto your shoulder, into the crook of your neck, where he loved to nestle comfortably. His hands hadn't moved, just gripped your waist tighter.

Several minutes passed like this. The noise of the paddock hidden by the walls of the driver room. Lewis felt...at home. He was relaxing little by little, he absolutely didn't want to let you go. Everything seemed normal now, in your arms, far from all these incessant questions. “I believe in you so much, Lewis. Everyone believes in you, and everyone is very, very proud of you” Your lips brush against the driver’s temple, placing a soft, reassuring kiss there.

“It’s time for you to chase your dream.” Lewis leaned back slightly, locking his gaze with yours. He tilted his head to the side, a smile hanging on his face. "Dreams. Chase my dreams" You didn't immediately understand where he was going with this. Why was he repeating the same sentence as you? And then, after a few moments of confusion, you raised your eyebrows, intrigued and curious. You had finally found the difference, and it was in the number of dreams Lewis had.

He had piqued your curiosity, and he himself had guessed it by examining your expression. His smile gets bigger. “I don’t have one dream, but two dreams to fulfill Y/n.” He brings his face slightly closer to yours, only a few centimeters. He grins even wider. “Win this eighth championship. And above all, win the heart of this absolutely beautiful girl.” His index finger points to the top of your chest, reflecting his words.

Your eyes widened, your cheeks blushed violently. It is true that you absolutely, but absolutely did not expect a statement like that. Lewis couldn't help but laugh happily, satisfied with your reaction. "I have a race to win, sweetheart. Wait for me, m'kay?" He winked at you, before rushing onto the circuit. Everything was happening at an incredible pace, and while you were still stuck in your driver room thinking about what just happened, the race was already coming to an end. But an incredibly beautiful ending. Silverstone, 2024, and a Lewis on the podium of his home race. Finally.

The shock was still present in you, but with this sudden victory of your favorite driver - and your secret lover - the adrenaline didn't seem to want to subside. The applause from the completely overexcited and crazy crowd, the euphoric atmosphere. This time, everything really felt like a dream. So, gently pushing the different people, making your way among the Mercedes employees, you saw him there on the podium.

Big, strong, and proud of himself. A huge smile on his face and tears of joy beading on his sweet face. He looked around. He was looking for something, someone. And he finally seemed to have found it. You couldn't take your eyes off his, both too hypnotized by this surreal moment. And, despite the vibrant and almost dizzying atmosphere, he managed to read on your pretty lips these three words that he dreamed of hearing from you.

And this dream came true. So, finally, at the moment when he was brandishing this magnificent trophy, on the top step of this magnificent podium, he had regained this ounce of hope. His first dream had come true, and he had finally won the heart of the woman of his dreams. So, if he managed to did it after all these years, of course he can win that much desired eighth championship, right?

[one-beer-is-not-enough]

Posting Sofia's character intro at last! Not as in depth as Marcel, her personality and looks will evolve more in the future lol. Also forgot to credit @jimothy-hopkins for the template in Marcel's intro, apologies!

Cheerleader, but wishes there was a girls' team. Makes it her life's mission to torment Burton

Manages to land a part-time job in town. Surprise surprise, dad isn't giving her any money either!

Has some violent tendencies due to the way she grew up. Very competitive because their dad would always pit the three of them against each other

She's fairly popular thanks to her looks, but she has a massive inferiority complex and always feels judged. Tries to appear unbothered, meanwhile there are sirens constantly blaring in her head

"I'm an academic weapon" <- 5 minutes before sobbing over a grade

Character sheet! Sorry Beatrice, my girl is incredibly insecure💀 Decided to make a sorta in-game portrait for her, and might as well post Marcel's too:

Lore bits:

Gets the jocks to do almost anything she asks, such as fighting other people for her. In return, she helps them with schoolwork. Them also finding her attractive doesn't hurt

Ironically, speaks better Italian than Marcel and will forever mock him

Good friends with Mandy and the other cheerleaders, but she scares them a little when she's got her sights on someone who wronged her. She's overprotective with those she cares about, kind of like a mom friend who desperately needs therapy

Sofia grew in a very misogynistic environment because of their dad's worldview. If Marcel and Rafael unknowingly manifested even a hint of their dad's mindset, she'd be onto them like a vulture <- aka firmly scolding Rafael and kicking Marcel in the balls

Works at one of the local grocery stores for a while, but gets fired after getting into a screaming-match with a customer a few weeks in. She buys a bike with her savings and starts doing delivery work instead

Big sports fan, always watches anything available on TV. She loves tennis in particular, even though their dad forced the kids to learn it with an iron fist (he really plays into the stereotypical rich prick persona). Her match number with Marcel is well into the hundreds.

Hates the nerds with a passion, considers them all disgusting and sexual freaks. After the whole mess with Earnest taking pictures of her and Marcel attempting to get him institutionalized, she deadass asks their dad if he can 'take him out of the picture'. To which he responds: 'Man up and do it yourself'

Sofia is on good terms with the greasers. She befriended Ricky during shop class, through the topic of bikes. He even develops a bit of a crush on her, but she's too oblivious to realize it until she notices that he doesn't complain about his ex anymore, at least around her. She also regularly hangs out with Lola, they could just sit and gossip for hours

The preps mostly tolerate Sofia on account of being associated with Pinky and Marcel. She gets invited to parties occasionally, but they're careful not to let her drink too much... Drunk Sofia is a menace 💀

Sofia's well aware of her father's criminal practices, but has no intention of being involved once she's fully independent. And he won't bother forcing her down a career path like he'll do with Marcel, again for misogynistic reasons. She hopes to be a successful athlete one day

I've mentioned her a ton in the answers to the asks you guys sent, and now she has a proper introduction lol. I'll have to do something for Rafael but he's not super high on the priority list right now

[thatgenericwriter]

The Death Of Me || Jake Peralta

Paring: Jake Peralta x gn!reader

Summary: working at a karaoke bar that is a known hangout for mafia members was not an ideal job but a handsome newcomer might make it all worth it

Warnings: swearing, angst

Word Count: 1.5k

P.s. takes place during season 2 ep 1

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

The karaoke bar you worked at was a known hangout spot for a know Mafia family....but it was the only job you could get. It wasn't so bad you took care of them and they took care of you. They tipped in hundreds and were always nice to you. You knew what they did and you knew it was wrong, but you had no other option.

Everything changed, however, when a new guy showed up with your regulars. He looked nothing like the rest of the family, no dead look in his eyes, rather he looked excited to be here.

"Y/N! We need a round of shots for our new friend here!"

"Coming up!"

You send the new guy a smile before going behind the bar. Before he gets pulled into the booth, you make eye contact one last time and he sends you a smile that makes your knees weak.

'No you cannot get involved with him! He is obviously a part of the family and they are bad people.' These thoughts snap you out of your giddiness as you place the drinks on the tray.

"Okay! Who's ready for shots?!"

You pass out the drinks slowly getting closer to the new guy until you are right in front of him. He gives you his sickly sweet smile once more before opening his mouth.

"Hi, I'm Jake, and God you are beautiful!"

'Fuck'

After his introduction to you all those weeks ago, you knew there was no way you wouldn't fall for this guy. And you were right.

Jake had become a new regular at the bar and you couldn't be happier. Every time he came he would bring you a new gift. One time it was a beautiful bouquet of flowers, another was a matching jacket to the one you tried to steal from him the week before.

Along with the gifts, each visit brought even stronger feelings of attraction to Jake. You learned about his past life as a cop, about all of his ex-friends and the shenanigans they would do. The pranks, challenges, and overall goofiness that happened. But you also learned about how much he loved them.

When he told you about getting fired and about his friends leaving him, you couldn't help but hug him. Once he held you back, you knew that you were in deep.

Over the course of getting to know Jake, you also saw him changing to fit into the family. His appearance, actions, and words were beginning to match those of the people he surrounded himself with. Leading to you saying something to him one day as you sit on his couch in his apartment.

"I don't like your hair like that."

Jake looked over at you in mock offense, placing his hand over his heart and scoffing at you.

"Do you know how long it takes me to get my hair like this every day?!"

You roll your eyes at him and his drama queen reaction.

"I'm not saying it's a bad look on you. I just think your natural hairstyle looks the best on you."

He gives you his signature knee weakening smile before leaning in close to you. You feel his breath on your neck as he whispers in your ear.

"I'll stop if you say pretty please."

Shivers get sent down your spine and you look up at him as he moves back enough to see your face.

"Pretty please?"

You see something flash in his eyes before he launches at you, attaching his lips to yours. Almost desperately he bites and licks your lips until you give him what he wants and open your mouth. You let out a small moan that gets swallowed by Jake's mouth on yours.

Unfortunately, you have to pull apart for air. You sit panting and stare at Jake watching as he leans back onto the couch and runs his hands over his face.

"God, why are you so fucking hot?"

You let out a slight chuckle before moving to straddle his lap.

"I think it's you who's so fucking hot."

..........

After that night, you two could not keep being pinning friends. He officially asked you to be his girlfriend a few days after your "wild night" and you don't think you could have said yes faster.

All was going good until the night of Angie and Marco's wedding.

"Why are you so jumpy tonight?"

Jake looks over at you shocked before denying the accusation almost immediately. You give him a questioning look before shrugging it off.

When a group of old men that Jake seem to know come over he quickly whispers in your ear.

"Do not leave my side no matter what."

Shocked to stare at him before he is immersed in a conversation with the men. You do as he says, however, standing very close to him as he talks. He suddenly grabs your hand as a group of S.W.A.T officers raid the bar.

They grab Jake and start to drag him out the back door. He tries to fight them off screaming at them to let him go and for you to follow him.

Scared out of your mind you follow him out and watch as they throw him into a van. Before the doors close you hear him speak normally.

"Hey, Captin!"

It was a sting. He never got fired. He was playing everyone this entire time. He was playing everyone. He was playing you.

It all made sense now. Every time he would ask you about the family randomly, when he would stop talking about the precinct whenever someone would walk by, even why he started to date you. It was all to arrest them.

You had already started walking away when you hear Jake's voice yelling for you.

"Babe, where are you going?"

You turn around and he stops when he notices the tears in your eyes.

"How could you Jake? You used me to get information! You played with my head! I loved you! But all you wanted from me was to use me to get closer to the fucking mafia!"

"No! Wait! Y/N it's not like that! I~"

It was too late. You didn't care anymore. You were already walking away before he could say anything more. You hear him coming towards you before his name is yelled from the van.

You hear him stop before his footsteps start to retreat back to the van. You sob harder realizing that he didn't love you.

............

It has been two miserable days since the raid. Two days since your heart was smashed in half. Two days since you had seen Jake.

You have locked yourself in your apartment. Barley moving from your spot on the couch and you haven't stopped crying. You have tried so hard not to think about Jake, but it was nearly impossible. Everything reminded you of him.

His scent lingered on your pillows, his clothes left on your floor, and even the jacket you were wearing was gifted to you by him. It was impossible to not think about him. Especially when the people outside your door are talking about him....

'Wait what?'

You open your door to see four people huddled together.

"Uh.. Can I help you?"

They jump apart and stare at you dumbfounded before one of them flashes her badge at you.

"I'm Rosa. This is Amy, Terry, and Charles. We work with Jake and need to talk with you."

"No."

You try to close the door but a foot wedges it back open.

"Please just hear us out."

You look up at their desperate faces and sigh in defeat before letting them into your apartment.

...........

'Why am I here?'

You don't know how they convinced you to come to this stupid party, but here you are sitting in a booth waiting for Jake.

All four of them spent an hour convincing you that Jake actually loved you and wasn't just using you for information. Of course, you didn't believe them at first, but when they told you about how moppy and annoying he was being with his constant talk about you, you couldn't help but believe them.

So here you were listening to Captin Holt's speech waiting for your cue to reveal yourself.

"And with that, we have one last surprise for you."

Everyone parts to allow Jake to see you. The moment he locks eyes on you, he is practically tackling you to the ground in a bone crushing hug.

"I love you so much."

"I love you more, Jake."

He pulls apart enough to look at your face.

"Impossible."

You both smash your lips together in a heartfelt and emotional kiss... that is very quickly ruined by Charles hugging both of you.

"And moment ruined."

You giggle at Jake before giving him a quick peck on the lips.

"Let's get this party started!"

Everyone agrees and heads for the bar, but you stop Jake before he can leave.

"You look so fucking hot with the busted up lip and eyebrow by the way."

You give him a wink before walking towards the bar. You hear Jake groan while walking behind you.

"You're going to be the death of me."