#no I did not bother to look up their race numbers sorry.

[thepavementsings-archive]

You know in fandom when you follow people solely because their interests are so far away from your own it’s just fascinating to see what the other side of the fandom is doing? I wonder how many people I am that follow for sometimes

[joelscoffeemachine]

Forget

Joel Miller x f!reader

word count: 5.4k

Summary: After waking up from what felt like the best night ever, you wanted to figure out what Joel’s thoughts about what was going on, were.

Warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, Joel acting like a total jerk, language, unprotected piv, pet names, reader uses feminine pronouns, jackson era!Joel, slight fluff towards the end, arguing, angst, no use of Y/N, apologies if anything was missed.

please read A/N: guys, i tried so freaking hard to like this, but i just can’t. so, i am so sorry if you feel the same way as me. i really tried my hardest. i’m not sure if i want this to be the last part, but i can kinda feel it going towards that route, so im going to say this once, thank you so much for all the support for this mini series. i couldn’t be more grateful. thank you. and once again, i am so fucking sorry if you don’t like this. please don’t hate me. 🤗 oh, and also, ntm on the photos not matching, honestly could careless ab the damn photos.

part one part two

Joel couldn’t get a wink of sleep last night, the feeling of you being so close to him, in his arms, feeling your warm body against his, having your scent fill his nose, all of it was too much.

Every time he closed his eyes, memories of your shared night and the warmth of your touch would flood his mind, making his heart race. The moonlight filtering through the curtains enveloped a soft glow on your face, making you look even more serene and beautiful, which only added to his restless thoughts.

He laid there for a couple more hours, listening to your breathing, the way you’d mutter in your sleep, the little sounds that would escape you. Each breath you took seemed to synchronize with his heartbeat, creating a rhythm that was both comforting and unsettling. But he knew he had to leave. He knew he couldn’t stay because what was this?

What were you two?

The uncertainty gnawed at him, and the fear of crossing a line that could change everything between you both was overwhelming.

So, he eventually slid out of your bed, picking up his clothes and getting dressed. He moved quietly, trying not to wake you, stealing one last glance at your peaceful face before slipping out the door.

As he walked away, the cool night air hit him, a slight contrast to the warmth he had just left behind. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions, but he knew he needed to figure out what this meant for both of you.

—

You blinked your eyes open, the sun shining through the crack of your curtains into your room. The sheets of your bed hugged your body perfectly, stretching your arms out with a yawn.

You expected to feel a big and warm body, but you didn’t.

You just felt the ruffled-up blanket. The familiar warmth and comfort were missing, replaced by a cold emptiness that made you shiver slightly.

You turned your body, nothing. No one. He left. You glanced at the alarm clock on your bedside table, the bright red numbers glaring at you.

With it being the ass crack of dawn, you’d be expecting him to be waking up now.

Did he leave last night? You asked him to stay.

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks, and a wave of disappointment washed over you. You replayed the moments of the previous night in your head, trying to understand why he would leave without a word.

You sat up, confusion taking over your features. For some odd reason, your heart felt heavy. You wanted him to be there when you woke up. You needed him too because now that he wasn’t, was it even real?

The questions swirled in your mind, each one adding to the ache in your chest. The silence of the room seemed to echo the emptiness you felt inside.

You stood up, not bothering to put on the old bra and shirt from last night, turning the shower on as you pulled your panties off, hopping in. The warm water cascaded over you, but it did little to wash away the sense of loss and confusion. You hoped the shower would clear your mind, letting the water run down your face.

But it didn’t.

The shower didn’t work. You couldn’t get the situation off your mind. You couldn’t get him off your mind. It couldn’t have been real, but the faint memory of him running his rough fingers down your skin, the way he felt inside of you, stayed in your mind. The sensation was so vivid, it was almost as if you could still feel his touch, haunting you with every passing second.

You needed to see him. To talk to him. You prayed he wasn't anywhere but his house. The first place you could expect him to be was his house. So, you found yourself there. The walk to his place felt like an eternity, each step heavy with anticipation. Your heart pounded in your chest as you approached his door.

Softly banging on the door, no answer. Peeking through the window, no sight.

“Fucking Joel.” You whisper breathily. How fucking surprising was that. Joel Miller finally left his house.

For a second there your heart dropped, praying that he didn’t get patrol duty.

Goddamn it. I mean you could wait, but you didn’t want to.

You didn’t want to go back home, so you didn’t, knuckles bruising as you hit them against the door. The pain shot through your hand, but it was nothing compared to the turmoil inside you. Still no fucking answer. You stepped back and glanced up at the house, looking for a way to get in.

No way in from the front, window was shut tightly, curtains drawn as if to shut out the world.

So, like any sane person who was looking for a — friend, you walked towards the back to maybe get in from the patio door. But that’s when you heard it.

Sweet music, fingers strumming away at the strings from what sounds like a guitar, and sweet, and quiet humming. The melody was hauntingly beautiful, calming to the chaos in your mind.

You poked your head around the corner, Joel sitting in a plastic, white chair, guitar in hands. He nodded his head softly as he felt the music, eyes closed, and body relaxed with a cup of coffee on the small table next to him.

The steam from the coffee rose in gentle spirals, mingling with the early morning mist.

His foot tapped lightly in rhythm with the music, completely unaware of your presence.

You felt stupid. You almost broke into his fucking house all because he was unable to hear the damn knocking.

You slowly stepped onto the wood, your sneakers making a loud noise that made Joel stop playing. The sound echoed in the stillness, shattering the tranquility.

He looked you up and down, setting his guitar down with no words spoken. The silence between you hung heavy, like a thick fog that neither of you could see through.

Joel's eyes, usually so full of warmth, seemed distant as they locked onto yours. The early morning sun cast long shadows, and the gentle breeze carried the scent of dew and freshly cut grass. You could hear the faint rustling of leaves in the background, the weight of unspoken words pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe.

You let out a quiet ‘hey’, smile slightly upside down as you leaned on the railing of the patio. Your eyes were basically inviting him over, so he obliged, grabbing his coffee, and standing beside you, a gap in between.

It was pretty much awkward. It was clear he didn’t forget about the activities from last night.

“I’ve been knocking.” Your voice breaking the silence, looking at him, but he avoided your gaze.

“I’ve been here all mornin’, didn’t hear it.”

"Something on your mind?" You knew exactly what was on his mind, but you thought, if you pushed it, maybe this moment wouldn’t be so goddamn awkward.

Each second of silence stretching longer than the last.

"Nothin’ on my mind," he replied, lifting the cup up to his lips, taking a light sip.

The steam from his coffee curled up into the air, mingling with the tension that seemed almost palpable between you. His eyes, though momentarily hidden behind the rim of the cup, betrayed his true thoughts.

His eyes, dark and guarded, flickered over to you. There was a heaviness in his gaze, a storm of unsaid words and pent-up emotions swirling just beneath the surface.

His expression unreadable, before letting out a quiet, almost resigned sigh. The sound was barely audible, yet it echoed in the stillness, amplifying the tension that crackled in the air like static electricity.

He wanted you to say something. He wanted you to just be honest and tell him exactly how you felt about last night, why you were there, if you even remotely felt what he did.

Instead, you were both standing there, avoiding each other’s gazes like idiots.

Your heart raced; each beat a reminder of the words you were too afraid to speak. His sigh lingered in the air, a silent plea for you to break the cycle, to reach out and bridge the gap that seemed to widen with every passing moment.

"You gonna invite me in, or are you just gonna stand there?" You point lazily at the door.

Joel huffed a laugh, tilting his head slightly as he finally looked at you. “You’re being pushy today, ain’t ya?”

He was being a smartass, and he knew it, but it was his way of deflecting whatever the hell happened last night, and the way you were acting this morning.

The gesture is casual, almost dismissive, but your heart is going crazy. The morning sun filters through the trees, putting a warm glow on the porch where you both stand. His eyes flicker to the door and then back to you, a moment of hesitation that feels like an eternity.

His eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and challenge, the corners of his mouth quirking up in a smirk that was all too familiar. The morning light radiating a golden halo around his figure, highlighting the lines of tension in his posture that belied his casual tone.

His eyes never left yours, a silent dare for you to cross the threshold and face whatever lay beyond.

As you stood there, you knew that stepping through that door meant more than just entering his home—it meant confronting the emotions and the history that had brought you to this moment.

He shifts his weight, the creak of the wooden floorboards echoing in the quiet day.

He finally turned away from the railing, his movements deliberate and measured, as if each step was a calculated effort to maintain his composure.

He held the door open for you with his empty hand, the gesture both an invitation and a challenge.

You looked around at the nicely decorated house as you stepped into the kitchen, Joel close behind you.

The place was immaculate, with tasteful decor that felt both homey and sophisticated. You leaned against the marble island, the cool surface grounding you as you watched his every move. He stood in front of you, his presence filling the room in a way that made it hard to breathe.

“Why didn’t you stay?” you asked, your voice cutting through the silence like a knife.

You wanted to know so badly that you basically said, ‘fuck the small talk, tell me why.’ You were so straightforward, the words spilling out before you could second-guess them.

Joel’s face remained impassive, his expression a mask of cold-stone indifference. His arms were crossed over his chest, a defensive posture that only added to the distance between you. His eyes, usually so expressive, were unreadable, and for a moment, you wondered if you’d ever get through to him. The tension in the room was evident, a silent battle of wills as you waited for him to break the silence.

He took a moment as he leaned on the counter, taking in your words. He wasn’t really sure how he was supposed to answer.

A part of him, a huge part of him, did want to stay. He wanted to hold your warm body, bask in your sleepy scent, and hear your soft breath hit his neck. But he knew he couldn’t.

He didn’t know what last night was. Why you let him come to you, why you let him touch you the way he wanted to for so long.

"Well?" You push, head tilting, your gaze unwavering.

The intensity in your eyes matched the urgency in your voice, demanding a response from him.

"I don’t know. Okay? I don’t know." He finally let out, throwing his hands up, frustration settling on his face.

The rawness in his voice cut through the air, his eyes burning with a mix of confusion and helplessness.

You threw your head back at his answer, arms falling to your side as you turned around, elbows on the counter, holding your head up as you groaned. The cool surface of the counter did little to soothe the storm inside you. You felt the frustration bubbling over, the unanswered questions and the emotional tumult taking their toll.

He was frustrated for a number of reasons. Mainly because he had no idea how to act in front of you now. The lines between you had blurred, and he was grappling with the new reality, unsure of where he stood. But most of all, because you wanted an explanation for something he didn’t even understand himself.

"What is this?" He questioned, looking up at you, his arms crossed against his chest. His voice was edged with exasperation.

"You just come over here to get on my ass?" His words hung in the air, a challenge and a plea wrapped into one, as he tried to make sense of the chaotic emotions twirling around both of you.

You leaned up instantly, your body closer to his. The heat of his breath mingled with yours, creating an almost suffocating intimacy. Your eyes locked onto his, searching for a glimmer of understanding, something to bridge the chasm between you.

"No, I came here so I could understand you. But that’s never happening, is it?" Your voice was low, but the intensity of your words cut through the silence like a knife.

You could feel the tension radiating off him, the anger and disbelief that mirrored your own. The proximity made it impossible to ignore the raw emotions.

“Not when you’re acting like this.” He muttered, his voice strained, barely above a whisper.

The words were a thin veil over the tumultuous emotions roiling just beneath the surface, a desperate attempt to regain some semblance of control in a situation that felt increasingly out of hand.

Your bodies touched as you leaned closer, he was basically pressed up against you as you looked up at him, his chest rising and falling with a deep breath. The warmth of his body seeped into yours, creating an electric tension that was impossible to ignore.

He tried to keep his composure. He tried to not look at you like some piece of meat. He tried not to think about how close you were, how he could easily shove you down on this counter, or up against a wall. His mind raced with conflicting thoughts, the struggle to maintain control evident in the tightness of his jaw and the flicker in his eyes.

But you weren’t making it easy. The intensity of your gaze, the proximity, the noticeable tension—it all made it nearly impossible for him to think straight.

At this point, this man was just stressing you out. You came to the conclusion that he was just trying to forget whatever happened last night, just like you tried forgetting what happened in the stables, but now you’re glad you didn’t, but for what? Look how he’s acting now.

“Joel, you’re really just gonna act like last night meant nothing? You’re just going to move on with life after that?” Your voice was sharp, each word laced with the hurt and confusion you felt.

Your words struck him like a damn brick. Because yes, that is what he was going to do. He was just going to act like last night wasn’t the best goddamn night of his life.

“That’s what you did.” He remarked, his tone cold and detached.

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, the accusation clear.

He was right.

But you were standing right in front of him, and he could still hear the way you were moaning his name, a sound that echoed in his mind, driving him crazy.

He could still taste your lips, the sweetness lingering on his tongue, a reminder of the passion you shared. He could still smell you on him, your scent enveloping him, making it impossible to forget even if he tried.

You had no idea what to say. You weren’t going to deny it, because you do remember pushing him away, remember drinking to forget. All you could do was go along with it, even though it was going to hurt.

“Fine—“ Your voice cracked, strangled back deep in your throat. You cleared it as you spoke again. “It never happened. None of it.”

The words felt like knives in your mouth, each one cutting deeper into the fragile remnants of what you both shared. You could feel the weight of the silence that followed, a suffocating blanket that threatened to choke the last bit of resolve you had left. His eyes bore into yours, searching for a sign, any indication that you didn’t mean what you said.

But he wants to forget so fucking badly. Maybe you do too. Or maybe it’s meant to be this way.

Joel isn’t supposed to be knee-deep in your pussy. He’s supposed to be your best friend’s husband’s brother. Nothing else. It’s so simple.

Just forget. Just let it be like how it was before that day in the stables.

So, so, so, so simple.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

But you both knew it was all bullshit. He wasn’t the same man after he got a taste of you. And by the look you kept giving him, you weren’t the same either.

It’ll be forgotten. For now, at least. He won’t look at you with hungry eyes, you won’t look at him with a hopeful look.

“You should probably get going.” He muttered.

His voice was barely above a whisper, the words heavy with unspoken regret. The tension a suffocating fog that clung to every breath you took.

“Yeah.” You say quietly. You gathered yourself up, leading yourself to the front door with Joel behind you once again. None of this felt real. You felt like you were floating on your way to the door, your hands clasped together to avoid them shaking, your breath shortened.

As you turned to leave, the memories of that day in the stables flooded your mind—the way his hands had felt on your skin, the way his breath had mingled with yours. It had been a moment of raw, unfiltered passion, a moment that had changed everything.

Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing the finality of his words. You forced yourself to nod, swallowing the lump in your throat.

You reached the door and paused, your hand hovering over the handle. You wanted to say something, anything, to break the silence, but the words wouldn’t come—

You can’t fucking do this.

You spun back so fast; Joel couldn’t even react. Your lips caught his, arms wrapping around his neck as he eased in closer to you. His initial surprise quickly melted away, and he returned the kiss with a fervor that matched your own. The world outside ceased to exist; it was just the two of you in that moment, lost in a whirlwind of pent-up emotions.

His hands found your waist, pulling you closer as if he needed to feel every inch of you against him. The kiss deepened, becoming more desperate and passionate, a silent conversation of everything you both had been holding back.

You could feel the heat radiating from his body, his heartbeat syncing with yours in a chaotic rhythm.

When you finally broke apart, gasping for air, his forehead rested against yours. His eyes searched yours, filled with a mixture of longing and uncertainty.

“What are we doing?” he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion.

You didn’t have an answer, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. You both knew that whatever came next, it would be something you’d face together.

He shouldn’t give in, he really shouldn’t. He should push you away and make you leave.

But then he pulled you in again.

His hands were gripping you, and he was melting into the kiss. His self-respect was crumbling with every passing second, the warmth of your body against his breaking down his defenses.

He wanted this. More than he could admit, even to himself.

The taste of your lips, the feel of your body so close to his, it was overwhelming. He surrendered to the moment. All the reasons why this was a bad idea faded away, leaving only the undeniable truth that he wanted you, needed you, in that moment more than anything else.

You quickly pulled the brown t-shirt off from his body, hands instantly gliding down the skin. His muscles tensed under your touch, sending shivers through his body.

He stumbled to the living room, lips still together, throwing himself on the couch. You slid your white top off before sitting on his lap, his semi-hard cock that hid in his pants, pressing up against your clothed entrance in the best way, causing a delicious friction that made you both gasp.

He moved his fingers to unclasp your bra, the fabric falling away with ease. Finally, pulling away, his eyes darkened with desire as he took in the sight of you, he lent kisses to both your nipples, his mouth warm and wet against your sensitive skin. He then moved to suck and bite at the tender skin on your neck, leaving a trail of fire in his wake.

Your breath was ragged, hands in his hair, pulling his head closer, needing more of his touch.

“G-God.” You whimpered, furrowing your eyebrows from the pleasure.

The sensations were too much, each touch, each kiss sending waves of ecstasy through your body. His name escaped your lips like a prayer, a desperate plea for more, as you felt yourself getting lost in the intensity of the moment.

He could hardly keep up.

His head was spinning from the taste of you, from the way you felt in his arms. From the noises you were making as he gently bit around your chest, the soft whimpers and gasps that drove him wild. He was trying his best not to just rip the rest of your clothes off and fuck you on the couch like some sex toy. But he somehow managed to maintain a certain level of patience, his grip on control tenuous at best.

He pressed kisses up your neck, breathing hot air into your skin, each exhale sending shivers down your spine.

“I swear, you’re gonna be the damn death of me,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire.

His hands roamed your body, tracing every curve, every line, as if trying to memorize the feel of you. The tension between you was electric, each touch, each kiss heightening the anticipation, the need for more.

You let out a breathy chuckle, body shuddering. You reached your hands in between both of your bodies, fingers working on unzipping his fly. When you finally got it, he lifted your body up, pants pushed down just above his knees.

His weeping tip grazed over your belly button, pre-cum rolling down onto his thighs, glistening in the dim light.

You stood up for a moment, easily taking your pants off, along with your panties, and throwing them on the coffee table. The grunt that left his mouth when you let your hole slide down his member made you feel like you were about to cum already.

He felt so good, stretching you perfectly, filling you in a way that made your toes curl.

You let yourself get adjusted, but you could tell, by the look on his face, and the way his hands bruised your hips, he wanted you to move. His eyes were dark with lust, breaths coming in ragged gasps. His grip on your hips was almost painful, but it only added to the intensity of the moment. The need in his eyes mirrored your own, a silent plea for you to give in, to let the pleasure take over.

He was trying so desperately to keep control. He wasn’t sure what had possessed him to just let this happen. He was so firm on his decision to forget about whatever happened between you both. Then you came in here, and just turned his world upside down and now here he was, cock throbbing inside your tight cunt.

You began bouncing, hands gripping his shoulders for support.

“Christ,” he moaned, head nuzzling into your neck to plant kisses all over.

Your eyes focused on the bookshelf behind the couch, somehow reading every title of the books. Joel’s hand rested on the back of your neck, the other flat on your back.

“You’re doing so good, darlin’.”

“Joel….” you whined.

Jesus, what the hell were you doing? This isn’t forgetting; matter of fact, this is making it so much worse. But you couldn’t stop. No way in hell. You just kept riding, sweat starting to glisten off of your soft skin.

Joel noticed your bouncing and grinding getting sloppy, grasping your hips so he could help.

Your body completely gave out, so tired, but his cock hit your G-spot perfectly, making you moan in his ear as loud as you could.

“I got you, baby,” he whispered, his voice a soothing balm against the chaos of your thoughts.

His hands guided your movements, each thrust precise, driving you closer to the edge. The room was filled with the sound of your shared breaths, the slap of skin against skin, and the overwhelming furosity of your connection.

Joel’s kisses became more urgent, trailing down your neck to your collarbone, each one leaving a burning imprint on your skin. His grip on your hips tightened, steadying you as he thrust deeper, hitting that perfect spot over and over again. Your nails dug into his shoulders, leaving crescent-shaped marks as you tried to hold on to the last shreds of your sanity.

Every movement, every touch, was a testament to the unspoken emotions swirling between you. The room seemed to close in around you, the world outside fading into oblivion as you both lost yourselves in the moment. Your breaths synchronized, a dance of desperation and desire, building to an inevitable crescendo.

“Joel, please…” you gasped, your voice barely a whisper, but it carried the weight of everything you couldn’t say.

He responded with a growl, his pace quickening, pushing you both to the brink. The tension coiled inside you, tighter and tighter.

Until it snapped, your hips in sync with his as your orgasm washed over the both of you, the feeling of his warm cum inside of you making your heart pound. You start working on catching your breath as he pumps his cum into you, throwing his head back with strangled groans.

You kissed his jaw, slicking his damp hair back with your hand.

He looked so good like this.

You rested your head against his chest, finally catching your cool. Not a word was spoken by him, so you decided to speak up.

You could feel his heartbeat against your cheek, a steady rhythm that mirrored the tumultuous feelings inside you.

“I don’t want to forget.”

You moved your head to look at him, your hand on the back of his head, forcing him to look back at you. His eyes, filled with a mix of exhaustion and raw emotion, met yours.

Joel’s hand came up to cup your face, his thumb brushing against your cheekbone.

“I don’t either, sweetheart.” he finally whispered, his voice hoarse.

The vulnerability in his eyes was familiar, a mirror to your own. This wasn’t just physical; it was something deeper, something that neither of you could deny anymore.

The room felt smaller, more intimate, as if the walls themselves were bearing witness to this moment of truth.

You both knew that this was a turning point, a moment that would define whatever came next. Your fingers threaded through his hair, pulling him closer until your foreheads touched, breaths mingling in the space between you.

“Then let’s not,” you murmured, the words a promise and a plea.

Joel’s lips found yours in a kiss that was both tender and desperate, sealing the unspoken agreement. In that moment, everything else faded away, leaving just the two of you, bound together by the intensity of your connection and the uncharted future that lay ahead.

“Okay.” he murmured.

[norrizzandpia]

hey bestiee!!

I wanted to request femxreader who’s having trouble with sleep and calls lando when he’s away because she misses him so much

thanksss🧡

I NEED HIM ON SPEED DIAL.

What Are You Doing Up? (LN4)

Summary: She can’t go to sleep when he isn’t there.

Warnings: again, arguably the cutest thing ive ever written

Her eyes felt as if they had been glued open as she stared up at the ceiling. Nothing seemed to work. No amount of tea or medicine could get her body to relax and give into the sleep she so desperately wanted and needed.

The one thing she hadn’t tried and the one thing she really didn’t want to bother was the one thing she knew would actually work.

Lando.

Her boyfriend had become the expert on getting her back to sleep on nights when she was too fidgety or energized to lay down and stay still. His quiet whispers could easily make her drowsy and his soft hands roaming her skin never once failed to make her eyes droop. Whether it was the fact she found his presence calming or he was just the insomniac-whisperer, she didn’t know.

Nevertheless, on nights when he wasn’t there to find her up and walking around the kitchen in search of something to do, she had to try and get herself back to sleep on her own. Usually, she could do it. It would take hours and hard work, but she could get to sleep eventually. However, now, as she glanced at the clock and it read 4:30 AM, she realized calling Lando was inevitable.

Part of her brain knew he was the last resort, but the other was relieved to hear his voice because, God, did she miss him.

His race weekends had been going phenomenally and she was immensely proud of him, but she couldn’t get over seeing him on screen and wishing he was beside her.

No amount of phone calls, facetimes, voice notes, or text messages could cure the overwhelming yearning she harbored for the man in her life.

Her thumb hesitantly hovered over his contact, doubting at the last moment if she should really disturb him. But wanting sleep and her boyfriend trumped any second thoughts as she let out a breath and clicked his number.

The number rang for a few seconds before she heard shuffling, a rushed “give me one moment”, and then his voice.

“Y/n? What’s going on, baby? Isn’t it like-” A pause told her he was checking the time, “4:30 in the morning over there?”

She nodded, letting out a sigh before responding, “Yes,”

The exhaustion was evident and thick in her voice as it dawned on Lando why his girlfriend had called him when it was the crack of dawn for her.

“You can’t sleep,” He whispered, disappointment and empathy for her.

She had been so busy the few days before without much sleep that her walls began to fall down, tears rising in her eyes as she wished for any kind of rest.

“I can’t sleep,” She repeated, choked sounds escaping her throat as she willed for his support.

“Aw, baby, I’m so sorry. What can I do, love?” He said, moving to a more secluded corner as to gain privacy to speak to her freely.

She shook her head, fingers coming to pinch her nose, “I don’t know. Just talk to me about your day. Maybe that’ll help me calm down.”

“Okay, okay, I can do that.” He whispered lovingly, feeling heartbroken he couldn’t be there to help her through this.

She set the phone beside her ear, blankets up to her chin as he began.

“Well, it’s around 7:30 PM here in Vegas and I was just talking to Oscar and the engineers about going to get some dinner. Testing went really well today and the car is super quick. Baby, it’s going to be such a great race. I’m really hopeful. Anyway, I had a really good workout this morning too. Things are just going really well, honestly, with the team and Oscar. 1-2 is looking not as impossible now which is crazy, baby. And!” He exclaimed, getting excited as he rambled, “And I got to try In-n-Out! Remember that really big burger chain I was telling you about? It’s so fucking popular here and it’s not anywhere else except the west coast of the U.S? Yeah! I got to try it and, no doubt, baby, it was so fucking good. Genuinely, some of the best fast food I’ve ever had. We have to come back to the west coast over holiday, so I can show you it and all the other weird things Americans do. How does that sound, baby?”

Lando was met with silence to his question, thinking she hated the idea, until his ears heard soft, rhythmic sighs on the other line. His heart swelled at the infamous noises of her having dosed off. He loved the fact that he was the only person to be able to get her back to sleep, but also despised it during times like these when she failed to let him know of her problems until the last minute. He wished he could make her understand that any call from her was never going to be a disruption or annoyance.

He would always be overjoyed to hear from her, whether that was with bad or good news.

Nevertheless, he listened to her breathing for a few minutes, wanting to make sure she stayed asleep and didn’t need anymore of his help. When he was sure of her state, he whispered to the woman he knew couldn’t hear him, “I love you so much, my love. Glad I could help.”

He didn’t care that she couldn’t comprehend his words, saying it because, even when she was asleep, she deserved to hear how much he cared about her.

Hanging up the phone and waving off his team behind him who was rushing him as they so desperately wanted to go get food, Lando sent her a quick text.

Lan 🧡

Next time, call me the second you start struggling to fall asleep. I’m always here for you, beautiful. Call me when you wake up xx

[thebearer]

fall into me |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: part 2 of follow me. your date with carmen.

contains: fluff. anxious carmen. mentions of mikey. but all fluff :)

Carmen was sure he was going to be sick. A new kind of sickness, where his stomach felt like it was going to fall out of his mouth and ass at the same time. He changed his outfit six times, slacks and a tie felt too formal. Jeans felt out of the question, and while the very cool guy on TikTok swore that slacks and t-shirts were in this season… Carmen couldn’t bring himself to wear it. 

So he wore his slacks, good shoes he still had from pretentious meetings in the restaurant, and his good button down, a steely type blue- the saleswoman told him it really complimented his eyes, then wrote her number on his receipt. Of course, Carmen didn’t call it. He’d never allow himself the simple pleasures like that. 

Carmen smoked the whole way to the restaurant, a bottle of cologne in his pocket, which he doused himself in on the corner, popping a mint. He saw you standing there, awkwardly on your phone by the light pole, head ducked to your screen in your black, silk, cowl neck dress. Carmen could feel his heart jump at the sight of you, cursing while he started to jog in the still new shoes. 

“Hey, shit, sorry.” Carmen apologized, his chest tightening and burning as he slowed in front of you. “I-I couldn’t find my phone.” Definitely not because I tried on a million different outfits and had a panic attack.

“Ah, so that’s why you didn’t text me back. Thought you ghosted me at your own restaurant.” You quipped, his heart plummeting, face falling with it. You grinned, shoving your phone in your tiny purse. “‘M fucking with you, Carm. I just got here.” 

“Oh,” Carmen sighed. “Yeah, good. That-That’s good. Do you want to go in?” 

“Sure.” You giggled. “After you, Chef.” 

“C’mon.” Carmen laughed lightly, shaking his head, hoping it would hide his burning cheeks. You were ahead of him, reaching for the door, his heart skipping when he saw it. “I got it!” 

You drew your hand back, looking at him carefully. The blush in his cheeks spread down to his neck. “I-I got it, let me get it.” Carmen nodded, pulling the handle. You glided past him, his hand ghosting on the small of your back, leaving you shuddering under his touch. It was casual, you doubted he even knew he did it, just a slight usher while he followed you in. 

“It’s so different being here at night.” You whispered to him, your arm brushing his while you walked to the hostess station. 

Carmen nodded. “I know, it’s, uh, it’s nice to see it like this, ya know?” He muttered. “See it from a customer’s perspective.” 

“That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” You asked, your head tilting to the side softly. “Why we’re kinda doing this?” 

Carmen’s heart fell, swallowing around the lump in his throat. He could feel his own mind racing. Of course, you didn’t think this was a date. Why would you ever want to be on a date with him?

“I mean, yeah, sorta. Here f’you too. To thank you for everything.” Carmen nodded, eyes cutting to yours. Fuck, he knew he needed to look at you, he wanted to look at you, but it was so fuckin’ hard. When you looked so pretty, so effortlessly calm and cool. It made him fluster. 

“C’mon, Carm. You hired me, paid me. And you guys have been so nice. Most places are… horrible. Act like I’m bothering them when they hired me. You’ve got a good place, great staff. I’m glad you wanted me to be a part of it for a while.” You smiled, stepping up to the hostess station.

Carmen could feel his heart squeeze, an uncomfortably tight realization that this would be the last time he saw you. He’d been running numbers all night, seeing where he could take cuts so he could keep you, but even then, you’d be gone for at least another two months since you already took another job. By then, whatever you had here, would be gone. 

“Ah, there you are, the VIP customers for the night.” Richie schmoozed, sliding behind the hostess stand. 

You grinned, Carmen’s eyes downcast making Richie’s jaw tick. “How are you two this evening?”

“Great.” You beamed. “Excited to try this place. I’ve never been here before. Heard it’s the best in Chicago.” You nudged Carmen playfully with your hip, grinning at him. 

He gave you a tight lipped smile, hands by his side, trying to nonchalantly wipe his hands on his slacks. Richie smiled at you, glaring lightly at Carmen. “Well, you heard right, sweetheart. We want your night to be extra special, so we have this booth back here just for the two of you.” 

“Hey, Syd,” Tina muttered, looking up from her plating to see your head pass with Carmen’s curly locks. “They’re here.” 

“Shit, are they?” Sydney turned, looking through the window. “God, Carmen looks like he’s about to pass out.” 

“Fuck, he does, doesn’t he?” Sugar huffed, her hands on her hips. 

Richie caught Sugar’s eye through the window, a flickering glance that told her exactly what she needed to know. “So, I will have the focaccia out for the two of you shortly. Can I start you off with anything to drink?” 

“‘M good.” Carmen muttered, taking the leather bound menu into his hands, knee bouncing under the table. 

You looked a little uncomfortable, eyes cutting to Carmen’s before a moment of hesitation flashed over your face. “Uh, I’ll take a glass of whatever you think would pair best with the meal?” 

“Perfect. I’ll have that out.” Richie smiled, hoping his silent screams at Carmen would be enough for him to catch on. Fak passed, slipping a piece of paper in Richie’s hand. Richie stepped away, reading Sugar’s scribbled writing: “GET CARMEN BACK HERE NOW!!!!” 

“Excuse me, folks,” Richie greeted apologetically, though the two of you weren’t talking. “Carmen, I hate to do this, but I need you just for a second, ok?” 

Carmen nodded, sliding out of the booth without so much as looking at you. Richie fought the urge to roll his eyes. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, it’ll just be a second. That focaccia and riesling are on the way.” Richie grinned at you, stepping beside Carmen. 

“What’s goin’ on? Did we run out of-” 

“-No, you fuckin’ moron.” Richie huffed, letting the door slam shut. “The fuck is your problem, huh? You’re not even- hey, send that to six with the Cakebread white, ok?- You’re not even looking at her, c’mon, Cousin.” 

Carmen blushed, running a hand through his hair. “What? I-I’m talkin’ to her-” 

“-No, you’re not.” Sugar snapped, rounding the corner. “You look like an ass, Carmy. You’re on a date with her and-” 

“-It’s not a date.” Carmen shook his head, brushing it off. 

Sugar blinked. “You’re on a date with her,” She repeated, her tone firmer- a mom tone she’d adapted since working here that would help with the baby. “And you’re acting like a total-total…” Sugar waved her hands, stuttering over the word. 

“Jagoff.” Neil added, passing through the kitchen for a moment before going out the doors. 

“Thank you! Yes! A total jagoff.” Sugar glared at Carmen. 

“I-I don’t even think she thinks it’s a date-” 

The kitchen erupted in groans, shouting at him irritatedly. “Look at how she’s dressed. If she thought this was a free meal ticket, she wouldn’t wear that. That is a date night dress.” 

“That’s true.” Sydney added. 

Carmen couldn’t help the way his heart flipped with excitement, looking out the window at you, sitting at the table, nursing your wine slowly- alone. 

“Cousin, c’mere,” Richie motioned him, leading him towards the office. “Look, I get you got this whole ‘I deserve nothing good’ doom and gloom attitude, but that right there. That’s good.” Richie jabbed his finger towards the door. “I see you, ok? You guys got that cute little texting thing goin’ on, alright?” 

Carmen stilled. He felt like a teenager again, being teased and tormented by Mikey and Richie about a crush he had. How the fuck did he know about your texting? “Look, if you let her go tonight without even trying, you’re gonna regret it. You only got one chance, cousin, do not miss your chance to blow.” Richie said seriously. 

“Don’t fuckin’ quote Eminem to me right now-” 

“-Alright, alright, but seriously?” Richie nodded into the office, the tiny frame that held Mikey’s note ‘Let it rip!’. Carmen felt his stomach turn, guilt trilling in it. He knew Richie was right and that fact alone made him queasy. “Listen to Mikey, alright? You can have good shit in your life.” 

Carmen looked at the photo, taking a grounding breath, Mikey’s voice ringing loud in his ears. “Let it rip.” Carmen muttered, pushing past the double doors back to you. 

“Oh, no way!” You laughed. “You don’t have TikTok?” 

“No, no. Don’t have time for it.” Carmen shrugged, sipping his water. 

“Then how do you watch our videos?” You asked, brow raising in question. 

“I click the link you send me and it opens up just on my Google or whatever.” Carmen grinned, shrugging lightly, popping another truffle fry in his mouth. He’d nearly fallen over when you asked for ranch, teasing you lightly. You’d only shrugged, sticking one in your mouth, declaring it would taste better with ranch. You were kidding, of course, it was perfect. 

“Wow.” You smirked, finger tracing around the rim. “You’re missing out. It’s addictive.” 

“Yeah? It’s weird too.” Carmen snorted lightly. 

“Says you! You’re Mr. TikTok Famous and you don’t even know it.” You pushed his arm lightly, trying not to gawk at how firm his biceps were. Sure, you’d definitely seen them while he was working, but… they felt better than they looked. “Should see how you’ve got everyone in a tizzy. Chopping onions and marinating wagyu.” 

Carmen laughed, cheeks reddening at the compliment. “Yeah, those comments were…shocking.” 

“You think?” You cocked your head to the side. “I thought they were pretty normal.” 

“Half of them were asking me to violently punch them.” Carmen laughed, eyes widening at you. 

“Well, can you blame them?” You grinned, leaning in closer. “You got nice hands. Of course, they’re going feral. I knew what I was doing with that shot. Giving the people what they want.” 

Carmen blushed furiously, hoping you couldn’t see under the low light of the restaurant. “Nah, c’mon.” He looked down at his fingers, etched with tattoos. 

“You c’mon.” You grinned, reaching out a little daringly to trace a finger over his veins. You’d blame the wine for your boldness, but Carmen shivered under your touch. “You’ve got hot hands. No wonder they all go so crazy. You’re a pretty chef with good hands.” 

Carmen knew you had to see his blush now, sure his body temperature went up ten degrees, heart beating so bad in his chest he was sure he wasn’t going to make it another course. “Uh,” Carmen laughed, running his free hand over his mouth, hoping to hide some of his grin. He didn’t dare move his hand from his. “Well, thanks, I guess. I, um, I wanna say I think the same.” 

You lifted a brow, biting back a laugh when he stuttered, his eyes widening. Your giggles were infectious to him, a stream of his own nervous laugh spilling out of his throat. “No, I-I meant- fuck, I meant… I, uh, I think you’re pretty.” 

There was a pause, your own teeth pulling in your lip, grinning shyly at him. “Really?” You asked. You felt like you were in junior high again, finding out the boy on the JV team like liked you. It was giddy, the feeling in your chest. Warm, your heart skipping a beat. 

“Yeah.” Carmen nodded, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “Beautiful, really.” 

“Well, thank you.” You grinned, hoping to hide your smile behind your own glass of wine. Fak came by, dropping your next course off, a temporary relief for the moment, letting the two of you get yourselves together. 

“You think he’ll do it?” Sugar asked, pretending to roll silverware while Richie handed them to her. A meaningless job that just so happened to be by the window, so they could see the two of you. 

“I dunno. Could go either way.” Richie sucked in a breath. “He seems to be close, ya know? Think he has it in him to do it, just… fuck, I hope he does.” 

“Me too.” Sugar sighed. “Can you hear what they’re saying? It looks… nice? So that’s gotta be good, right?” 

“Yeah, hopefully…” Richie hummed, squinting to try and make out the words you were whispering to each other. The two of you were pressed together, migrated together as the meal went on until you were huddled, like it was the two of you. 

“I really don’t want you to leave.” Carmen admitted, body pressed to yours, hand in yours in the dim light of the booth. Everyone had left, all the patrons shuffled out and escorted to their cars. Some of the kitchen staff went home, but some stayed, pretending to be extra tedious with their cleanup so they could see the two of you. 

“I know. I’m having such a good time with you.” You agreed, tilting your chin up to look at him, lashes batting, eyes a little glossy from the wine. 

“No- I mean, yeah I-I’m having a good time with you, too. But I meant… leave forever.” Carmen admitted, the lump in his throat growing more and more with each word. “I really liked having you here.” 

“I liked being here.” You hummed, tongue running over your bottom lip lightly. “It was a lot of fun. I liked spending time with you.” 

“Yeah? I liked spending time with you too. A lot.” Carmen admitted. “And I… I want to keep spending time with you?” It came out more as a question, all hopeful eyes and a rounded gaze. “If-If you want to-” 

“-Yeah.” You grinned. “I wanna keep spending time with you. I like being with you, Carmen.” 

“Yeah? Really?” Camren was half convinced he was hallucinating. 

“Yeah.” You nodded. “If you wanna spend some more time with me too. I’d like to get to know you more, and not to just write a staff spotlight on.” You giggled, his lips curling at the sound. “To, like, really get to know you.” 

“I would… yeah, I’d like that. Like to get to know you too.” Carmen nodded. 

There was a pause, the tension between the two of you was thick. Your eyes darted from his lips back to his eyes, already leaning closer. Carmen could feel his stomach lurch with nerves, Mikey’s voice ringing over and over and over. 

Let it fuckin’ rip, Carmen thought before he moved in, lips on yours. His hands were clammy cradling your jaw but you didn’t seem to mind, your own arms snaking their way around his neck, pulling him closer, deeper into the kiss. 

“Holy shit!” Richie gasped, dropping the fork. “Look! Fuckin’ look!” 

The staff clambered around to huddle by the window, watching the two of you kiss, pulling apart with small smiles, before going back in. Carmen’s hands sliding down your back, your arms, your waist- fuck, he just loved feeling you like this, and he hadn’t even felt all of you. Yet. 

“He fuckin’ did it.” Richie grinned, awing at Carmen. “Hey, Sug, might be a bad time, but I believe I’m owed fifty dollars.” 

You pulled apart, grinning at Carmen, still huddled close together, his hands rubbing the silk fabric of your dress, your sliding through the curls on the nape of his neck. Your mind was dizzy, the rush of adrenaline, emotion, and buzzing from the wine. 

“What’re you doin’ tomorrow?” Carmen asked. 

“Nothing.” You hummed. “Why? You’ve got something in mind?” 

“Not-Not right now, actually.” Carmen admitted with a small laugh. “But I’d love to do something with you.” 

“Me too.” You smiled. 

Carmen looked around, catching his staff standing in the window, rolling his eyes when they darted after he caught them, scampering in different directions. “Um, it’s gettin’ kinda late.” Carmen looked at you, fingers drumming on his thigh- that was still touching yours. 

“Yeah.” You nodded, looking at your phone. “I guess I should go, and I’ll, um, I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

Carmen nodded, sliding out of the booth then offering his hand to help you. “Did you walk here?” 

“No, I took the L.” You walked towards the door beside him. It was quiet, the soft hum from the kitchen, the muffled clatters of pots and pans being put away. 

“Me too. I’ll ride back with you?” Carmen offered. 

“I thought you lived like three blocks away?” You giggled, tilting your head to the side. “And I’m in the opposite direction.” 

“Yeah, I-I do.” Carmen nodded. “I just… You shouldn’t ride alone at night, ya know? Shit could happen and… I don’t want it to. To happen to you.” 

You could feel the heat flushing through your cheeks, through your chest. You laughed lightly. “Is this your way of trying to come home with me?” You lifted a brow playfully. 

“No! No.” Carmen shook his head, flustered, which made you laugh harder. 

“I’m kidding, Carm.” You giggle, reassuring him. “But… if you wanted to come stay the night. Since it’s late… and you’re insisting on coming with me on the L.” 

“I don’t wanna make-make it weird, or come off like that. I-I really am… I like you.” Carmen stuttered. Fuck, there was nothing more tempting than that invite, but Carmen didn’t want to fuck this up. He really didn’t want to fuck this up. 

“I mean, stay over so we can talk more.” You gave him a pointed look. “We were having a good conversation. Weren’t we?” 

“Yeah, no, yeah. Yeah, we were.” Carmen stuttered, hand on the door, twisting the lock though his eyes never left yours. 

“So… You want to come over then? Finish telling me about Copenhagen? Please?” And how could Carmen say no, his head spinning with excitement when he walked out behind you, letting the door fall shut, your arm looping around his while you walked towards the L. 

Richie ran to the front, pushing the door open with Sugar and Tina, watching the two of you walk towards the station. “Good job, Cousin.” Richie muttered. 

[b0r3dtod3ath]

"Cause I <3 you, you’re the one that I adore :)"

Formula 1 masterlist

Word count: 1.4k

Summary: Assistant!reader x rdr!seb. Based on this request. Set during the 2012 season.

A/N: I know a few people wanted me to write this trope so here it is :) Also this fic is loosely inspired by BBM baby by Lana Del Rey.

“Yea, I still don’t understand why I need an assistant” Well this sentence certainly didn’t calm your anxiety as you were sitting on a chair, staring at the door. You were supposed to meet your boss, well not really a boss but a person you were supposed to help. He wasn’t just a random person, he was Sebastian Vettel, two-time world champion in Formula 1. You were a fan of this sport so when an opportunity for you to work in that field appeared, you took it without thinking twice. Maybe you weren’t one of the most important employees on the paddock nonetheless you still got to travel the world and be a part of every race week. “Sebastian, you were late for the last three meetings. I can’t be looking after you all the time.” a female voice said. You recognized it - it was Sebastian’s press officer. She was a lovely lady. You got to meet her because she was the one recruiting you. “So you are really getting me a babysitter?” huffed the driver. The door in front of you opened causing you to jump from your seat and put on a smile. “Hi! Nice to see you again! Come on in!” said the lady. As you walked in a tall, blonde boy sat up and introduced himself “Sebastian Vettel. You can call me Seb. Nice to meet you.” The eye contact made your cheeks heat up a little “Y/N Y/L/N, pleasure working with you”. As you sat down you heard Sebastian whisper a quiet “It sure is” under his nose.

You came up with the idea of a maximum of 10-minute long meetings after breakfast during the race weekend. They were meant for you to give Seb a quick overview for the day - what is he doing at what time. You were sitting at the hotel’s restaurant, waiting for him to show up, you didn’t expect him to show up on time but he barely managed to. “Hi, sorry. I hope you didn’t wait long” he said as he sat opposite to you. “Good morning, I’m fine, you are on time actually” you greeted him with a smile, chuckling at his messy bed hair. “So today you are supposed to first meet your physiotherapist and then” you were interrupted by sniffling. Probably a morning runny nose. You grabbed your small purse and handed a tissue to the man. “Thank you” he said, surprised that you noticed. “So then you have a first practice session at 1PM and..” - you quickly went over what was planned for the day “Alright, any questions? If you really want to move some meetings then let me know and I will try to figure out something. I’m leaving this paper for you to know what’s going on and I think that’s it.” you handed him a post-it note with everything neatly written. Cute writing he thought as he looked at it "There's also my number if you need something and I happen not to be around”. Oh yea, he was definitely gonna use this one. 

After a few races, you started developing a more casual relationship - it could even be called a friendship. The chemistry never left working hours. You didn’t understand why but it bothered you. Well, you noticed some signals - butterflies in your stomach appearing when you two held eye contact for more than a second, your heart skipping a beat when you accidentally touch or the heat rising to your cheeks every time he calls you by your nickname. You were a walking symptom of having a crush and yet you denied it. “I’m working for him, of course, we have to be nice to each other! He’s like that to every female reporter, a cheeky little bastard.” or “It’s his job to treat me nice.” you used to tell your friend on a phone, whispering as if Sebastian was to hear you. Little did you know, he has in fact changed his behavior towards women once you appeared in his life, he started being less flirty and reckless but not in terms of you. He would never tell you to do anything for him because it felt weird to him. At first, you were looking after him like he was a child - checking in if he was hungry or if he needed water. He never complained about being looked after because he found it comforting. He felt like you were truly caring for him, a feeling that he hadn’t felt in years due to his lifestyle. 

You would never call him unless he was late. Sebastian was in his hotel room, sprawled out on the bed, head with messy blonde hair buried in pillows. His peaceful sleep was interrupted by the sound of his ringtone. “Huh?” his eyes still closed “Seb, you were supposed to text me when you wake up so you won’t be late again. Please tell me you got up” your voice was a sound he wished to wake up for the rest of his life “Mrrh Dreaming? An angel called me?” he said half awake completely ignoring your tone “Great, amazing even. Vettel, wake up. I’m gonna come to your room in 10 minutes and please cooperate”. Even though you were the same age you sometimes felt like you were babysitting him. Sebastian obeyed you and got dressed. He liked to annoy you a bit but he would be cautious not to cause you too much trouble. You knocked on his door not expecting him to be ready. To your surprise, you were greeted by a fully dressed Sebastian holding his toothbrush. He gestured to you to come in. You have never been to his hotel room so it a bit personal. You stood in the middle of the room not knowing what to do. Your eyes wandered around the room which looked more neat than you expected - no clothes laying around and only his phone and a half-empty water bottle on his nightstand but the bed looked like a mess and you couldn’t judge him, after all he did wake up less than ten minutes before. The bathroom door was opened so you were able to observe him brushing his teeth. It was a thing he did everyday (even more than once!) yet it felt almost intimate. “Okay, let’s go” he said with a big smile once he finished and held the door for you. You were heading for a team meeting that you were also a part of. Your role there was to take notes that were handed to the driver later. Sebastian couldn’t take his eyes off you, sitting next to him as you wrote something important that he didn’t even hear. He loved to watch you in this state where you were so focused you barely paid attention to anything else. He loved the way you would tuck your hair behind your ear or play with a pen anytime there was something not worth writing down discussed. When the meeting was over you handed him the paper, he didn’t even look at it but the thing that caught his attention was your dress. It wasn’t revealing or stereotypically sexy - little flowers on a navy background, short sleeves and knee length just suited your personality in his mind. “Nice dress” he said, catching you off guard as you were saying your goodbyes. This weekend Sebastian finished P1 getting closer and closer to his next world champion title.

Next weekend was the last weekend before the summer break. Even though you had lost your hope in terms of your emotions towards Sebastian there was a little part of you that still wished that he would make some kind of a move. It was Saturday night, you had already showered and got yourself ready to bed. You heard a notification and looked at the screen of your phone. “I’m outside your door. Wanna talk to you. XOXO, Seb :)”. He himself didn’t know why he ended the text like that. He was just nervous and high on adrenaline. The message was followed by three gentle knocks on your door. You let Sebastian in and before you could say anything he grabbed your hands and said “I, I I think I love you. For the past few months you had been my sunshine. You make me happier. I adore everything about you, every single little detail. Please make me an even happier man and let me take you out for dinner. And wear that dress you wore last week."

[fawnandshadows]

Guilty as Sin?

For @elriel-month and the "New Beginnings" prompt

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 7.4k

AO3

“Have you met your new neighbor yet?” Cassian’s staticky voice crackled in Azriel’s ear, his phone held in place by his shoulder and ear as he furiously searched his apartment for his keys. 

“Not yet, just saw the back of her head once when she was closing her door.” Azriel said as he toppled the couch cushions and ran his fingers through the deep crevice on the side. “Where the fuck are my keys?” He muttered, his fingers trailing over long forgotten crumbs that had slid down the side of the cushion. “Were you eating Doritos last time you were here?”

“Uh,” Cassian’s voice caught in his throat. “What happens if I say yes?”

Azriel rolled his eyes and said, “Nothing other than supergluing a trash bag to you as a bib next time you’re over.” 

“Wasn’t me, man. Must’ve been Rhysie.” Cassian brushed him off. 

Azriel barely mustered a “hmmmm” in acknowledgment as he lowered himself to the ground to check underneath the couch, hoping to see the metallic glint of his keys and only seeing dust bunnies. 

“Anyway,” Cassian said in his ear, cutting out for a second before coming back in full volume. Since he had perpetual shitty service, Cassian felt the need to make up for it with shouting. “Your hot new neighbor, do you think you could give her my phone number? She was definitely making eyes at me last time I was there.” 

“Was she?” Azriel asked, barely paying attention as he hunted for his keys. He pushed himself off of the floor, his gaze scanning the open space. Where the hell had he put them? He came home dead tired from a shift last night and he remembered fumbling with them out in the hall — there had been a crash from his neighbors apartment that had distracted him, his head already pounding from the drinks he had with Cassian, and he remembered the sound of his keys hitting the ground — did he leave his keys in the hall?

“Are you listening to me?” Cassian asked, his voice sounding far away as Azriel headed towards his door, his duffle bag already there and waiting for him. 

“Of course,” Azriel said, opening the door and spotting his keys in a lump on the floor. “You want me to set you up with my hot neighbor.” He bent down, his fingers looping around his keys as he heard a high-pitched “Oh!” from across the hall. 

Azriel’s entire body stilled as he turned his head and saw the most beautiful wide brown eyes and flushed pink cheeks. 

He blinked at her. No wonder Cassian wanted him to give her his number. Fat-fucking-chance. 

“Hellloo?” Cassian asked in his ear like he was trying to wave his head in front of Azriel’s face. 

Azriel just hung up on him. 

“Sorry about that,” Azriel said, coming to his full height and shoving his phone in the back pocket of his jeans. “I – My friend – He saw you the other day and, um, he has a crush.” 

Those brown eyes blinked at him and kicking himself seemed like too kind a punishment. 

 He was two seconds away from blurting out “I can’t blame him” just to end the agony of silence, but his new neighbor must have had a merciful soul because she beat him to it. 

“I just wanted to introduce myself,” She said in the sweetest voice Azriel had ever heard and it wasn’t until then that he noticed she was holding out a pie. “Since I’ve been making so much racket I wanted to apologize.” 

“Don’t apologize,” Azriel said, his hand surprisingly steady as he reached for her peace-offering. “I’m not home enough to be bothered by it.” 

“Oh.” She said, looking down at her feet, her golden brown hair sweeping down around her. 

“I just mean that there’s nothing to apologize for,” Azriel rushed out, her eyes peering up at him and his heart started fucking racing. “I work down at the local fire station, so I’m used to chaos.” 

She bit her lip, her eyes dropping down to his muscled arms for a moment as she asked, “You’re a firefighter?” 

“Yeah,” Azriel said, sticking out his hand. “I’m Azriel.” 

“Elain,” She replied with a soft smile and placed her small hand in his. “It’s nice to meet you,” Azriel never wanted to let go. Her eyes flicked to the duffle bag on the floor behind him. “I don’t want to keep you.” She started to pull her hand away. 

“No worries,” Azriel said quickly. “I was just going to meet up with some friends at the gym. Do you want to come in?” Azriel nodded to his apartment behind him. “I make espresso that goes great with pie.”

Elain took her hand back. 

“Thank you for the offer,” Elain said with a small smile, taking a step back and reaching for the door knob to her apartment. Azriel felt his body screaming in response as she moved farther away from him. His eyes taking in the purple sundress she was wearing. “But my boyfriend is coming over soon.” 

Azriel’s body steeled at the words. Boyfriend?

“Boyfriend?” Azriel asked out loud and Elain nodded her head. 

“He’s coming over to see my new place.” 

“He didn’t help you with the move?” Azriel already hated him. For probably more reasons that he didn’t want to think about, but what loser didn’t help his girlfriend with a move? Did she move in all by herself? Now that he thought about it, other than a few people from a moving company he didn’t see anyone else moving her in.

She shook her head. 

“He was busy.” Elain said simply and Azriel hoped he kept his glower off of his face. 

“Well, if you need any help you can always knock on my door.” Azriel offered, forcing a smile and he was delighted when she gave him one in return.    

“Thank you,” Elain said, opening her door, and almost shutting it before she poked her head out. “And I love espresso.” 

Azriel stood in the hallway, staring at her door and holding the pie and wondering what the hell just happened. 

— — — — — 

“No, no, no,  you don’t understand, he was really pretty.” Elain said to her sister over the phone as she rushed around her apartment. 

“How pretty?” Feyre asked, her voice crackling from the poor cell service in Elain’s new building. 

“I-forgot-about-Graysen-pretty.” Elain said, adjusting the bouquet of spring flowers on her coffee table. Residual guilt gnawing at her bones. Her boyfriend of two years. She forgot about her boyfriend of two years because of a pretty face. And muscles. 

Something clattered on over the phone and Elain knew that her sister dropped a paint brush. 

“Oh my God.” Feyre said, stunned.

“I know!” Elain cried, repositioning the silverware for the tenth time. 

“Can you send me a picture?” Feyre asked. 

“Well, I don’t have one, but just imagine the most good looking man you can think of and then like double that. And imagine him as a firefighter.” Elain said and rushed across the apartment to stir her bolognese sauce. 

One interaction with Azriel and she was buzzing around her apartment not knowing what to do.

“I need to throw you a housewarming party just to see him.” Feyre said, laughing over the phone. 

“This isn’t funny!” Elain pouted, stirring her sauce. “I almost went in for espresso.” 

“You hate espresso.” Feyre said, and even though Elain couldn’t see her she knew her sister was smiling. 

“I know.” Elain replied with a sinking feeling and stifled a sigh. 

She couldn’t be friends with Azriel. He was too pretty. And by all accounts he was nice. She got the sense that he actually would help her if she needed it. That he wasn’t just saying that to be polite. 

For some reason she wanted to stomp her foot like a child. She had to practically beg Graysen to see her new place. 

“What are you going to do?” Feyre asked. 

“Nothing.” Elain said abruptly. 

“Elain,” Feyre said gently. “You called me just to talk about how pretty your neighbor is.” There was so much unspoken in Feyre’s voice that Elain felt the weight of it on her shoulders. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Elain said, forcing away the rush of emotions. “I’m with Graysen.” 

There was a moment of silence over the phone. 

“It’s not a crime that you find another man attractive, Elain.” Feyre said and Elain felt herself nodding along. 

“I know.” 

A knock sounded from the door. 

“I have to go, Graysen is here. I’ll talk to you later.” 

“Ok-love-you-bye!” Feyre rushed out before Elain hung up. 

— — — — — 

“I can’t believe you followed me home.” Azriel said, fishing around in his duffle bag to pull out his keys. 

The thump of Cassian bouncing a basketball beat steadily behind his back as Azriel unlocked his door. 

“I didn’t follow you home,” Cassian said and Azriel shot him a bland look over his shoulder. “We’re hanging out, it’s what friends do.” 

“And your being here has nothing to do with Elain?” Azriel asked, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes at Cassian who had begun to spin the basketball on his index finger. 

“Of course not, I—”

The ball slipped from Cassian’s finger and flew across the hall, smashing against Elain’s door. How the ball managed to move perpendicularly through the air, Azriel never knew.

Half of Azriel wanted to rush into his apartment and slam the door to leave Cassian to his own humiliation, but the sound of a male voice behind Elain’s door made Azriel stay in place. 

Two seconds later they watched as the door swung open to reveal someone Azriel could only assume was The Boyfriend standing there with Elain peering out at them behind his shoulder. 

The Boyfriend…did not look happy as he took in Azriel and Cassian standing in the hallway. 

“Hi Azriel,” Elain said with a polite smile as she curiously looked at him. The eyes of The Boyfriend snapped to her and narrowed. “Is this yours?” She went to reach for the stray basketball, but The Boyfriend’s hands shot out and grabbed it first. 

“You should be more careful next time.” He said, holding the ball out to Azriel, his eyes weary and smile plastic as he sized Azriel up. 

“My bad,” Cassian said with a charming grin as he took the ball that Graysen was holding out after it became obvious that Azriel wasn’t going to. “Azriel has better control over his balls than I do,”  Cassian took a step back and slapped Azriel on the back, but when no one laughed he stuck his hand out toward Elain. “Cassian. Nice to meet you.” 

“Elain.” She replied kindly, her eyes flickering to Azriel as she accepted Cassian’s outstretched hand.

“I was on the phone with him this morning.” Azriel said and nodded towards Cassian, his lips twitching as Elain’s eyes widened. 

Everyone noticed the way her cheeks flushed and the way Cassian smiled hungrily. 

Elain sheepishly drew her hand back as she asked, “Are you a firefighter as well?” Her eyes dipped to his t-shirt which boasted the numbers of the local fire station. 

“You know it,” Cassian’s grin widened. “Someone’s got to rescue all those kitties trapped in trees.” 

Elain laughed at that, but The Boyfriend bristled. 

“We should get back to lunch.” The Boyfriend said with false cheer. 

“Of course,” Elain said, blinking. “It was nice to see you both.” She nodded at Azriel and Cassian. 

“I’m having some friends over next week,” Azriel rushed out as Elain was turning away. Her wide brown eyes curious as she looked at him over her shoulder. “Saturday. You should stop by.” 

“I’d love to —”

“We have plans.” The Boyfriend cut her off, and Azriel couldn’t stop himself from glaring at him. 

Elain’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she said, “But I asked if you wanted to get brunch and you mentioned a business lunch?” 

Azriel’s jaw hurt as he ground his teeth together. 

“We can head over once that’s wrapped up.” The Boyfriend said, his smile not budging from his lips. 

“Elain can come whenever she wants.” Azriel said, his voice not exactly dark, but full of meaning. Enough meaning that Elain’s cheeks turned ripened pink and The Boyfriend outright glared at him. 

Azriel didn’t back down from his stare, keeping his face completely neutral even though he knew Cassian was wearing a shit-eating grin next to him. 

“That’s very kind of you,” Elain muttered, tugging on her boyfriend's arm. “I’ll see you later?” She asked hesitantly, and Azriel nodded in confirmation. 

“It was nice meeting you!” Cassian called out as Elain was closing the door, but they managed to see the small smile on her lips before they were shut out. 

Azriel and Cassian stood in the hallway, Azriel looking at the door intensely while Cassian’s eyes flitted between the door and his friend. 

“Fuck that guy, right?” Cassian said. 

“Yeah,” Azriel nodded. “Fuck that guy.”

— — — — — — 

“And you haven’t seen him, right?” Graysen asked over the phone, his voice suspicious and casual in a way that made Elain roll her eyes. 

“Not even in passing.” Elain said, flipping over her pancakes. For some reason she was craving something sweet as soon as she woke up — she didn’t even bother changing out of Graysen’s old Wharton’s shirt and her boy shorts she slept in.  

“Good.” Graysen said, his relief evident over the phone. 

“I don’t know why you hate him so much.” Elain muttered, moving her pancakes off of the heat and getting ready to add more batter to the hot pan. 

“He was coming onto you right there in the hallway, right in front of me, and you weren’t exactly telling him to back off.” Graysen said irritably. 

“You’re exaggerating.” Elain said, but the creeping, gnawing feeling of guilt wormed its way underneath her skin. She might be able to lie to Graysen, but she couldn’t lie to herself. And the fact that she could lie to Graysen sent alarm bells blaring in her mind. 

“Yeah, well, don’t go over there on Saturday without me.” Graysen said in a way that made Elain bristle. 

“You don’t even know what time your lunch will be over,” Elain said, her voice hitting an unbecoming whine. “And I’m free all day, so why wouldn’t I go over?” 

“Because he wants to fuck you, Elain.” 

“He does not!” Elain roared over the phone, her cheeks burning as she angrily flipped her pancakes. “And besides, there will be lots of people over there so it’s not like we’ll be alone. And after years of dating I’ve given you zero reasons not to trust me.” 

Graysen sighed into her ear. 

“I’m sorry,” He apologized and Elain felt slightly mollified. “I just don’t like that he lives across from you.” 

“You have nothing to worry about.” Elain said in resignation, but she wondered if she had the willpower to push Azriel away if he made a move on her. 

“I know.” Graysen said, but Elain could tell he didn’t quite believe the words. 

She opened her mouth to speak, but a knock sounded from the door. 

“I should go,” Elain said, taking the pancakes off a little too soon so they wouldn’t burn. “My breakfast is ready.” She didn’t tell Graysen about the knock, having a sneaking suspicion it was Azriel on the opposite side of the door. 

“Enjoy, baby.” 

“Thanks.” Elain said, hanging up before her guilt could consume her. 

She rushed across the hardwood floor, completely forgetting the fact that she was in her underwear, and opened the door a crack to see Azriel on the opposite side of the door. 

“Hi.” Elain said breathlessly, taking in his wet hair and clean scent and gray sweatpants. His white t-shirt clung to his torso in a way Elain shouldn’t have noticed. 

“Hey,” Azriel said in a low voice, his face touched with kindness. “I was wondering if I could borrow some sugar?” He held out an empty measuring up. 

“Oh,” Elain said in surprise. “Of course, come in.” She opened the door wider and stepped aside. 

As soon as Azriel clocked what she was wearing his eyes darkened and he visibly swallowed. 

“Sorry to interrupt.” Azriel said, his voice slightly scratchy.

Elain shook her head, her golden curls moving with her head, and said, “You’re not interrupting. I’m just making some breakfast…I always make too much…do you want some?” She nodded to the plate of towering pancakes. 

“If you don’t mind.” Azriel said, a small smile winding on his lips. 

“Of course not,” Elain said, gliding back to the kitchen in a rush. “Please have a seat.” She motioned towards the table without looking at it. 

She piled four pancakes on top of each other with little pads of butter between them and drizzled a generous amount of maple syrup on top before placing it in front of Azriel. 

“Coffee?” She asked and as soon as Azriel nodded his head, she filled up a mug and got out the half-and-half and set it down on the table.

“Did I forget anything?” Elain asked, looking around. “Oh! Do you like blueberries?” She was about to take off again when Azriel’s warm hand clasped around her wrist. 

“Elain,” He said gently and Elain felt herself melt. His hazel eyes were amused and kind as they captured her attention. “I don’t mind, but you might want to put some pants on.” His eyes flickered down to her legs before he forcefully pulled them away. 

“Oh,” Her eyes widened. “Oh! I’m so sorry! Excuse me!” Elain scampered off to grab the first article of clothing she could find - her well loved plaid pajama shorts. “Please just ignore the last three minutes!” 

Her cheeks were pink as she made her way back into the common area, but even though she should be dying of humiliation since she was walking around pantless in front of someone she’d talked to for a collective ten minutes — she had a feeling this story would be re-told with charm rather than embarrassment. 

“You’re not eating,” She stated when she returned to the table, her brows coming together. “Is something wrong?” 

“I’m just waiting for you.” Azriel said with an easy grin. 

Her heart stopped as if it understood his words and didn’t quite believe it. 

He was waiting for her. How many times had she made a meal for Graysen and he just started without her? 

“I’m sorry,” Elain muttered, averting her eyes. “I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.” She quickly gathered her own pancakes and coffee and sat next to Azriel — well adjacent to Azriel since she sat at the head of the table and Azriel was directly to her right. 

“Don’t apologize,” Azriel said, leaning forward to place a warm hand on her bare knee. “I’m just trying to be polite.” 

Her eyes locked on his brown hand on her pale thigh. Little scars scattered the length of his skin to create something beautiful, but she was taken by the mere size of his hand and the way it emitted warmth. 

“Sorry.” Azriel quickly took his hand back as if she burned him. “I know they can freak people out.” His cheeks were red as he cut into the fluffy pancakes with his fork, little puffs of steam floated through the air as he took a bite. “Delicious pancakes, thank you.” Azriel said as he dug back into his breakfast. 

“No,” Elain said belatedly and Azriel looked at her in confusion. “I was thinking about how large your hands are,” She held up her own hand, palm facing him and wiggling her fingers. “My sisters always made fun of how small my hands are. See?” 

Azriel blinked at her. 

“Your hands are perfect.” Azriel declared and Elain blushed. 

“Well, so are yours, but that doesn’t mean mine aren’t freakishly small.” 

Azriel snorted at her. 

“They’re not freakishly small, they’re just…small.” Azriel said, smiling and Elain rolled her eyes in affection. 

“Let me see yours.” She motioned for him to lift his hand up and he slowly, almost sheepishly, exposed his scarred and calloused palm to her. Elain laid her palm directly against his, indulging in the feel of his hand. The warmth. The strength. She tried to not think about his hands gripping her hips, or his fingers writing on her body. She really tried not to think about that. 

“Hmmm.” Elain hummed as she took in the size difference of their hands. Her fingers barely touching his and his palm noticeably larger than hers. “I can’t tell if my hand is freakishly small or if yours is freakishly big.” She half-heartedly joked. 

“I don’t know, I think they fit pretty perfectly together.” Azriel said almost thickly, and Elain tore her gaze away from their hands to see him intensely staring at her. 

“Me too,” Elain said, slowly — begrudgingly — taking her hand back and using it to pick up her fork to stop herself from reaching for him again. “I can reach the bottom of the Pringles can and you can open any jar. We’re a match made in heaven.” 

Azriel slowly smiled at her. 

“I’d have to agree.” He turned back to his breakfast, smiling into his next bite. 

Conversation flowed easily after that. They talked about how Elain worked with a local florist and would love to open up her own shop one day and how she’d also worked on her social media brand online, which explained her odd working hours. Azriel talked about how he had known Cassian since they were children and that she’d meet their other friend Rhysand on Saturday — and he even mentioned the fact that Rhysand convinced his family to take Azriel and Cassian in at a young age and how the three of them were closer than brothers. Elain mentioned her two sisters, whom she loved more than life itself, so Azriel extended them an invitation to his gathering on Saturday which caused Elain’s world to instantly brighten. 

“Thank you again,” Elain said as they stood by her door hours later, her hands clasped behind her back as she peered up at Azriel. “I’m sure my sisters are going to be thrilled. We never get to do anything together anymore.” 

Azriel’s dark brows pulled together. 

“Why’s that?” He asked. 

“Graysen doesn’t really like them,” Elain explained and Azriel couldn’t stop the scowl on his face. “Anyway,” Elain pushed on before he could comment. “Thanks again for stopping by.” 

Azriel raised a brow at her and said, “I ate most of your breakfast and you’re thanking me?” It’s true. Azriel went back for seconds. And thirds. But Elain smiled as she watched him enjoy her food. 

“You saved me from leftovers. I have bad habits when it comes to breakfast food. I love it too much.” 

“Yeah,” Azriel said, leaning in conspiratorially, “I’m like that with baked goods.” 

Elain grinned widely at him. 

“Those are my specialty…I’ll have to bring something on Saturday.” She bit her lip to try and stifle her smile. 

“I can’t wait.” Azriel said, grinning. 

They stood there grinning at each other, neither one of them moving to open the door. Both of them ignoring the still-empty measuring cup that Azriel had brought over. 

“I meant what I said the other day,” Azriel said, tilting his head at her. “You can come over to my place any time.” 

“I am curious to see what it looks like.” Elain admitted. 

“You can come over now. I —” An alarm bursted through the air, coming from the phone tucked inside of his back pocket. Azriel sighed, his body deflating. “My shift starts in 40 minutes.” 

Elain couldn’t stop the wave of disappointment that swam through her. 

“Some other time than.” She mumbled. 

“Some other time,” Azriel agreed and pressed his lips into her soft, plump cheek before he could stop himself. “I’ll see you later, Elain.” He said, his breath tickling her overly-sensitive skin. 

“Bye.” Elain said breathlessly, watching him leave with wide eyes. 

She swayed for a moment in place before she fell against the door. 

— — — — 

“Are you sure about this?” Feyre asked, using her nail to clean up her lipstick in the mirror. 

Elain’s entire bathroom was covered in beauty products as she and her sisters got ready to go over to Azriel’s place. Even though it was casual and there was no need for them to spend so much time on hair and make up…but the Archeron sisters liked to look good, and they liked getting ready together. Some of Elain’s most favorite memories involved them getting ready together, whether it was for prom or just to go shopping. It was when they felt the most like sisters. 

“Of course.” Elain said, careful not to look at Feyre or Nesta because they could easily see right through her. 

“Twenty bucks says Elain gets laid by the hot fireman by the end of the week.” Nesta said slyly, carefully coating her eyelashes in mascara. The black striking against her blue eyes. It took everything in Elain not to hip check her. 

“Stop it!” Elain cried, but fighting a smile as she did it. 

“How many times have you done it in your head?” Feyre asked with a cat-like grin as she fluffed her golden brown hair. 

Elain pursed her lips together, not willing to give either of them the satisfaction of knowing that Elain had pictured her and Azriel together in vivid, graphic detail. She simply ignored them and reached for her favorite perfume. 

“A-ha!” Nesta exclaimed, sticking the mascara wand out at her sister. “That’s sex perfume!” 

“It is not!” Elain laughed as she sprayed her neck. And hair. And wrists. “I just felt like this one today.” She brushed off the fact that it was her most seductive scent. 

“Mmhmm,” Feyre sounded, not hiding her smile. “And then explain the sundress?” 

“And the fuck-me-heels?” Nesta added on. 

Her sisters smiled knowingly, almost smugly, at her. 

Elain opened her mouth and closed it again, feeling oddly like a fish. 

“I just want to look nice, is that a crime? And these are hardly fuck-me-heels.” Elain said and looked down at the shoes in question. “They’re wedges, so they’re casual.” 

“Your nails are painted red,” Nesta said with a devious grin. “And they have straps, so you know your hot fireman will think about undoing them.” 

“Please.” Elain tried to scoff and push the thought out of the room. 

“She has a point,” Feyre said, nudging Elain gently with her elbow. “But it’s nice to see you all dressed up.” 

“And you’re due to a good fucking,” Nesta said, finally capping the mascara. Elain started to protest but her sister continued. “Are there going to be other hot firemen at this thing?” 

“Probably.” Elain said with a smile. 

The sisters made their way towards the door, all of them looking beautiful in their own right. Elain wore a flower-yellow sundress which she thought made her look tan and emphasized her brown eyes. Feyre was beautiful in her denim skirt and loose cream sweater. And Nesta was stunning in tight black jeans and sleek black top. Even though they goofed on Elain for her “fuck-me-heels” she chouldn’t help but notice Feyre and Nesta also wore heels. She smiled fondly as she shut the door behind them and went over to knock on Azriel’s door. 

They waited all of three seconds before the door swung open and they were greeted by an exceedingly beautiful man. One that wasn’t Azriel. Or even Cassian. 

His violet eyes looked at her knowingly before breezing past her and locking onto her sister. His grin grew as keen interest sharpened in his eyes. A crisp, white button down — which seemed it was perfectly tailored to his body — was tucked into jeans, and Elain was certain his outfit cost a small fortune. 

“Hi,” Elain said, forcing herself to speak up. “I’m Elain — I live across the hall. Azriel invited us over.” 

At the mention of her name, Violet Eyes snapped his attention back onto her. 

“I’ve heard so much about you,” He said in an amused voice and stuck his hand out to her. “I’m Rhysand. Azriel will be pleased that you’re here,” Rhysand leaned in close, and Elain could feel Feyre leaning forwards as well, wanting to be included, while Nesta just stood back and observed. “You know he threw this entire party for you.” 

“Hey, don’t fuck with her,” Azriel's familiar voice floated through the air, and Rhysand’s grin had a wicked quality as he moved out of the way to let Azriel in. “And it’s not a party.” 

Rhysand rolled his eyes. 

Elain felt breathless as Azriel’s hazel eyes trailed up and down her body, his eyes catching on the part of her leg that touched the hem of her sundress. 

“Hi.” Elain said softly as her eyes connected with Azriel’s. 

A slow grin unfurled on Azriel’s lips. 

“Hi.” Azriel replied, his eyes heady and smoldering. 

Nesta gave a not-so-subtle clearing of her throat. 

“These are my sisters,” Elain rushed out, her cheeks flaming. “Nesta,” Elain nodded her head. “And Feyre.” 

“Come in,” Azriel said, sticking his hand out to Nesta and Feyre. “Nice to meet you both.”  

They all found themselves crammed into the entry of Azriel’s apartment, with Elain pressed against Azriel’s side. She could feel his muscles through the thin cotton of her dress and his hand naturally settled on her hip. 

“Do you guys want a drink?” Azriel asked, his mouth close to her ear. “We’ve got beer, wine, and something Cassian made called ‘jungle juice’ which Rhys and I haven’t been brave enough to try.”

Nesta let out an amused scoff. 

“Is this a frat party?” Nesta asked, a hair too mockingly, but after certain looks from Feyre and Elain, Nesta shrugged and said, “I like frat parties. It’s the only place we can do body shots in public.” 

Rhysand and Azriel both chuckled at that and shared a look. 

“Come inside.” Azriel said, gently pushing Elain by the small of her back. 

It thrilled her to be touched by him and the fact that it felt so natural and comfortable almost squashed the hair of guilt she felt worming inside of her. 

Azriel wasted no time getting her alone — she barely counted the number of people that filled his living room before he got her into the kitchen which was overflowing with coolers and snack foods. 

“We’re grilling burgers and hot dogs later, but I have some chicken if you’d prefer that — there’s not enough for everyone, but I can grill it just for you. Or Mor brought some pasta salad and I think there’s humus out there if you don’t eat meat. You do —” 

“I’ve never heard Azriel talk this much in my life.” Cassian’s familiar voice came from behind Azriel’s irritated form. 

Cassian joined them and slapped Azriel on the back. 

“Elain, you’re looking stunning as ever.” Cassian said with a smile. Elain could tell that whatever interest he may have had in her fizzled out (thankfully) and he only flirted with her to get a reaction out of Azriel. 

“Thanks Cassian.” 

“Can we help you?” Azriel asked him irritably, and Elain was entirely too affected by the fact that he wanted to have her completely alone. 

“Just getting Nesta some of my famous punch.” Cassian said, entirely too flippantly. Elain had only known him for a short amount of time, but “flip” and “Cassian” didn’t mesh together. 

Azriel grinned at that, his annoyance bleeding away. 

“Trying to get her drunk already?” Azriel teased and Cassian cheeks turned pink. 

“Dude,” Cassian started, looking at Azriel with wide eyes as he grabbed a red plastic cup. “She actually dared me to do a shot off of her —” Azriel kicked him and nodded his head towards Elain. Cassian shot her a pained look. “Sorry Lainy.” 

Elain waved him off and said, “My selective hearing is one of my best qualities.” 

Cassian grinned at her, but Azriel took a step closer to her and leaned against the counter and Elain felt herself being pulled into his side by some magnetic force. Cassian kept talking, but Elain wasn’t entirely sure what about because she kept imagining Azriel putting his arm over her shoulder — and was her mind playing tricks on her, or was he gripping the counter to stop from reaching for her. If he did put his arm around her shoulder, then would he pull her in close? Would he massage the back of her neck or place his fingers in her hair? He was so close that Elain could smell his aftershave and Elain fought herself from taking a long, deep inhale. 

Suddenly, Elain was hit by the weight of her crush. 

She felt like she was back in high school with the giddy butterflies swarming her stomach. 

“So what does she like?” Cassian’s voice finally broke through, or maybe it was the fact that Azriel kindly nudged her with his elbow. 

“Huh?” Elain asked, a bit dazed from where her thoughts were taking her. 

Cassian grinned at her, as if knowing exactly what she was thinking. 

“Nesta,” Cassian confirmed, not commenting on how spacey Elain was being. “What does she like?” 

Elain thought for a second, tossing and turning ideas over in her mind. 

“Her bark is worse than her bite,” Elain said softly. “And she can be a bit prickly if someone gets too close, but she really just wants someone to like her for who she is. Someone that doesn't back down. And someone who makes her laugh.” 

Cassian nodded, a drink in each hand, and Elain knew he was taking what she said to heart. 

“Thanks,” Cassian said with a kind smile — which quickly turned more devious. “I’ll get of your hair before Azriel kills me like I know he wants to. He was so cute, planning this thing all week and getting pissy when we called it a ‘party’ and —” 

“Alright,” Azriel said, pushing off of the counter and steering Cassian out of the kitchen with by his shoulders “Time to fuck off.” 

Cassian threw his head back in a laugh, his curls flying, but he didn’t put up a fight as Azriel forced him out of the room. 

When they were alone again Azriel finally turned around to face her and Elain couldn’t stop the smile that bloomed on her lips. 

“I have a question,” Elain said as Azriel made his way back to her, his strong arms crossed over his chest. “Did you really do this for me?” Elain asked, her voice slightly too breathy. 

Azriel moved in closer. 

His nose just a hair's breadth away from her. 

“Elain, I’ve lived here for four years and never had more than four other people here at a time, but now I’ve called every friend of a friend I could think of just as a cover so no one would think twice about me inviting the beautiful girl next door into my place. I even have a fucking beyond burger on deck just incase you don’t eat meat. Cassian had to talk me out of buying flowers for tonight but…” Elain couldn’t breathe. Azriel took a step away from her and opened the fridge and Elain saw a beautiful bouquet of tulips. “But Rhysand said to just give them to you tomorrow.” 

“You got me tulips?” Elain asked, the air in the room turned hot and humid and thick.

“You said they were your favorite.” Azriel said, looking slightly confused. 

“And you remembered.” Elain felt her face crumbling. 

Graysen always got her roses. She was always grateful because it was a nice gesture, but she told herself that it was nice enough to get flowers and she shouldn’t be so picky…but it had taken Azriel an entire week to get her a bouquet of her favorite flowers. It wasn’t asking for too much to want something, and in all of two seconds Elain realized just how little she had been settling for. 

“I just thought you’d like them.” Azriel shrugged and brushed a stray wavy lock out of his face. 

“I love them. I —” She was about to say that she was going to break up with Graysen. Because she was going to at the first chance she got. She was tired of settling for the merest hint of attention and every scrap of affection that he bothered to throw at her. And it was so incredibly important to her that Azriel know that she’s going to end her relationship. 

“Elain?” 

Invisible ice slid down her back as she looked behind Azriel to see Graysen standing in the doorway, his eyes bouncing back between Elain and Azriel. An accusatory look in his eyes, one that wasn’t unfounded, but was thankfully left unspoken. 

Azriel simply nodded to Graysen and closed the refrigerator door. 

“Hey,” Graysen said to Azriel and walked over to Elain, interlocking his fingers with hers. “Thanks for inviting us.” 

Azriel leaned against the closed refrigerator door and crossed his arms. 

Elain wondered if this was something to cry about. 

— — — — 

She had no idea how she made it through the party, but she did. A broken heart heavy in her chest as she smiled her way through polite conversation — she felt awful watching Graysen chat and talk and be friendly knowing she was going to end what was between them. Every time he locked eyes with her he looked a bit confused and he asked if she wanted to leave about three times, but she kept saying no, not wanting to cause any type of suspicion. 

They didn’t leave until almost midnight, and even then there were still people loafing around, but she had completely lost track of Feyre and Nesta. Azriel was backed into a corner by some blonde and Elain avoided the way he was desperately trying to seek her eyes as she left. 

As soon as Elain closed the door to her apartment she watched as Graysen flopped onto her couch and kicked his feet onto the coffee table. 

“Thank fuck that’s over.” Graysen groaned, letting his head fall back onto the couch. 

“Graysen.” Elain said, unable to keep the crack out of her voice. 

His body tensed as he opened his eyes, and Elain knew that he knew. 

He sat up and placed his feet firmly on the ground and clasped his hands together between his knees. 

“Did you fuck him?” Graysen asked, a quiet anger in his voice. 

“No,” Elain said emphatically, walking over to him. “Of course not?” 

“But you thought about it?” Graysen asked, his voice tight like a spring wound too far. 

“I —” Elain couldn’t bring herself to lie about it, she just stood there with her hands limply at her sides. 

“Fuck.” Graysen exclaimed, launching the vase of flowers on the table across the room with the flat of his hand. 

Elain couldn’t help the shriek that escaped her — out of surprise more than anything else. 

“I knew from the way he fucking looked at you, and the way you looked at him…I haven’t seen that look in your eyes since…well, since you looked at me for the first time.” Graysen sounded hurt and defeated and angry and Elain felt about two inches tall. 

A heavy thumping came from her door followed quickly by Azriel’s voice calling out for her name. 

“Great,” Graysen said, standing and gripping his hair. “Fucking great we can’t even break up without him being here.” 

Graysen took a step towards the door, but Elain held out a hand to stop him and rushed towards the door in case he made a charge for it. 

Elain cracked open the door to see a worried and concerned Azriel. 

“Are you ok?” Azriel asked, his eyes looking her over from top to bottom to make sure she wasn’t harmed. “I heard you scream.” 

“I’m fine,” Elain assured him and forced a smile. “Just, um, surprised. But I’m ok. I promise.” 

Azriel’s intense hazel eyes looked behind her, zeroing in on Graysen, and Elain watched as a dark cloud descended on his face. 

“We’ll talk tomorrow?” Azriel asked and Elain nodded, quickly shutting the door. 

Elain turned around and rested her back against the door. 

“At least you’ll be in good hands.” Graysen said bitterly, walking towards the door. 

“Grayen,” Elain pleaded, staring up at him. “Don’t end it like this.” 

He smiled cruelly at her and said, “You’re the one that ended it.” 

He didn’t push her out of the way necessarily, but he definitely pushed past her. 

For some reason, Elain followed him into the hall, it seemed like the polite thing to do. Like she was sad to see him go — and she was sad. She wasn’t sure if she was sad Graysen was leaving or sad that she spent so much of her life with him and now he was going to be nothing more than a memory. 

“Oh great, you’re here,” Graysen said, almost laughing in absurdity. “Of course you’re still here.” 

Azriel’s eyes didn’t move from Graysen, carefully tracking his every move. 

“You didn’t have to stay.” Elain said, melting a bit at the gesture. 

“I wanted to.” Azriel said, his face and voice utterly neutral, making it clear that he didn't want to escalate anything. 

Elain watched the muscle popping in Graysen’s jaw, and he took one step at Azriel before turning and storming down the hall. 

“She’s not worth it.” Graysen muttered before turning the corner. 

Elain and Azriel stood in a heavy silence, broken only by two drunken party goers leaving Azriel’s apartment and he nodded goodbye to them as they stumbled down the hallway. 

“We broke up,” Elain blurted out as soon as they were alone again. “I broke up with him,” Azriel nodded, his eyes wide as he processed what Elain said. More drunken revelry was happening in Azriel’s apartment and before they could be interrupted again Elain motioned to her apartment. “Want to come in?”

Azriel nodded and followed her inside. His eyes immediately took in the broken glass, water, and limp flowers on the floor. 

“The scream?” Azriel asked with a raised eyebrow and Elain nodded shyly. 

“I was surprised.” Elain said, about to spring into action to clean up the mess, but Azriel was already kneeling down and picking up the shards of glass. 

“Don’t cut yourself,” Elain rushed around getting the dustpan and trashcan before kneeling next to him. “You don’t have to do this, Azriel.” 

She swept up some of the glittering pieces of glass and Azriel dumped a handful of them in the trash can. 

“I want to help you, Elain,” Azriel said meaningfully, and Elain felt two hot, salty tears slide down her face. “In any way I can.”

“Thank you,” Elain said, clearing her throat and clearing it again because somehow it became harder to breathe. “Thanks.” 

“You don’t have to thank me, Elain.” Azriel said softly, picking up the last few large pieces of glass. After a quiet pause he softly asked, “What happened?” 

Elain couldn’t look him in the eyes as she wondered how to answer him. 

“You,” She said as she swept a sad-looking rose into the dustpan. “Your tulips. I just — I realized how much our relationship was over, you know? How empty it actually was. I just couldn’t pretend anymore.” 

Elain swept up the last of the damage before finally looking Azriel in the eye. 

“You remembered I liked tulips,” Elain said with a shrug. “He never did.” 

“He’s a fucking idiot.” Azriel said gruffly. 

Elain shrugged and was about to say something in response — she wasn’t sure what, but somebody hollered for Azriel out in the hall. 

“Are you ok?” Azriel asked, standing. Outstretching a hand to Elain to help her stand. 

“I’ll be fine.” Elain said, forcing a smile. A smile that melted into a very real one before Azriel placed a kiss on the back of her hand. 

Azriel’s name was called again and he begrudgingly left her apartment. 

Elain took a shower and tried not to think too much about what the hell happened, and listened to music that both helped her wallow in her sadness and made her feel a little less alone and eventually she managed to fall asleep. Before she slipped into her dreams she remembered the plate of cookies she made especially for Azriel, wanting to hold off until the party was over to give them to him. 

When she woke up the next morning, it was to Azriel knocking at her door holding a bouquet of tulips and a little shot of espresso. 

[clockwayswrites]

A Broken Sort of Normal Part 11

WC 1326, Masterpost CW: anxiety

“Hey, kid,” Flash the older said as he raced up beside Danny.

“Still not a kid, old man,” Danny replied. It was already a well worn argument by this point after several dinners or weekend meals over at the Flash’s household. Sure it was used before that, but once Danny had started seeing Barry out of the mask, he’d only been worse about it. Danny guessed it was their thing now. It was weird to have ‘things’ again with people, but a good sort of weird.

“Still not an old man, kid. I’m not even a grandpa yet!”

Danny almost dropped the tablet he was working on. Barry didn’t have any kids, not aside from Wally who might as well count. Did that mean…?

“I’d tell you to watch your sass in your new position,” Barry continued, unaware or uncaring of Danny’s sudden crisis about the idea of children, “but one, I’d be a hypocrite and two, it’s a solid third of the reason I recommended you.”

“Well, that’s good because the sass isn’t going awa— wait, what new position?”

Barry grinned under his mask in a way that just felt dangerous. Not, like, dangerous in general, but dangerous for Danny who was the focus of that smile. “You’ll see. Flash Two will pick you up Monday at nine am. Don’t worry, you’re cleared off work already.”

“Fla— and he’s gone. That’s great. What the fuck,” Danny said to himself. It was a struggle to focus on finishing up the post event check in and then his reports and then going over his team’s report and then some more paperwork, but Danny managed. As soon as he got home he was immediately was texting Wally.

After the Reveal, Danny had gotten Wally’s civilian number too, but there were strict rules for using that number. Danny understood the caution. Apparently the first number he had been given was encrypted by Batman’s crew, which was crazy to think about, even when he was dating a Flash, so there were less rules other than no civilian names. Just for the ease of it, Danny mostly stuck to the old number unless they were planning a purely civilian date. Or if Danny wanted to say things that he knew would make Wally blush. Things Danny would very much never want anyone else to read. They may have mostly kept to kissing in person, but teasing Wally was just too much fun.

Danny: Why is Big!Flash having you pick me up on Monday??? What did he mean about a ‘new position’?????? I like my job! FLASH!

Quick Boy: You’ve got to give me a second to answer, dude!

Danny: You’re supposed to be fast. 😑

Quick Boy: Who’s always telling me electrical signals can only move so fast?

Danny: FLASH 🤬

Quick Boy: Sorry, babe, I’m not allowed to tell! But you’ll love it! Promise!

Danny: 🥺

Quick Boy: Don’t make those eyes at me! Trust me, babe, just wait until Monday.

Danny: Fine. But know I’m pouting.

Quick Boy: 😭

Danny behaved. He didn’t bother for updates. He sent more cats dressed as Justice League members and finished off the last Percy Jackson book, sending Wally updates along the way. But the whole weekend the fact that he apparently had a new job he knew nothing about and would be taken to Monday churned in the back of his mind.

It made him anxious in a way that he hadn’t been since he left Amity Park for Central city.

He didn’t much like it.

-

“Please at least tell me that I’m dressed fine for this new job?” Danny asked when he opened the door to Wally’s knock.

He didn’t really have many other options if Wally said no, he already had on his best dark jeans, cleanest boots, and his new cross body bag. He might have a button up shirt he could change into instead of the long sleeve one he was in, but that was as good as it was going to get. He just didn’t have business casual clothes with the jobs he had.

“You look fine,” Wally said.

“Not exactly a supersuit,” Danny said with a sigh, taking in Wally’s uniform.

Wally pressed a quick kiss to Danny’s cheek. “Not the kind of hero you are.”

That was something Wally had been doing, insisting that Danny was a hero. Whenever he protested, it only seemed to make Wally more insistent so Danny mostly let it be. Plus, the cute smile Wally got for ‘winning’ was nice to see.

It was gracing Wally’s lips now as Danny stepped out of his apartment, locked the door, and shoved the keys securely in his bag. One lost set of keys due to super speed was enough to make sure they were safely clipped in from then on.

“Okay. Right, let’s get this over with.”

“It’s a good thing,” Wally insisted as he squatted down for Danny to climb onto his back, “not your execution or anything.”

“I just don’t like not knowing,” Danny said.

“You love surprises.”

“Little surprises like picnics and presents, not life changing ones.”

“You’ll love it,” Wally insisted and then they were off.

-

“I’ll love an abandoned warehouse?”

“Apparently abandoned warehouse,” Wally stressed with a wave of his hands, like he was a two-bit magician.

“Convincing appearance. Once again, Flash, it’s a good thing you’re a hero because this as serial killer vibes.”

The windows were blacked out. There was a heavy layer of dust on most surfaces. The stairs to the foreman office were long rusted away. It was a mess.

But there was that feeling of being watched that crawled up Danny’s spine. None of the dust actually moved as they crossed the floor over to Barry. And the doors were either welded shut or solidly reinforced.

“Ready kids?” Barry asked.

“Still not kids,” Danny replied almost absently.

“Still don’t care!” Barry pressed one of the bricks on the wall and the whole thing shuddered and pulled back like some massive pocket door to reveal a… a portal behind the wall.

“Ta-da!” Wally said, complete with jazz hands.

Danny couldn’t tear his eyes away from the portal to look at him.

Did they know? Was this…?

“Danny?”

“What?” Danny started, forcing himself to look over at Wally who was beside him again.

“You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Danny winced. He just couldn’t hold back the twitch of his body at that word. “Sorry. Um, so what is that?”

“A Zeta tube, it’s how we travel to the Justice League. It’s like a transporter,” Barry explained.

Okay, right, not a portal to the Ghost Zone. No one knew. He was safe. Danny closed his eyes. It was just a transporter that looked a lot like a portal.

Wally rested his hand on Danny’s arm and Danny almost jumped from the light touch. “Babe?”

“Um, remember how I told you there was an accident in my parent’s lab when I was a kid? Yeah, um, sorta similar look, is all. It just freaked me out for a moment.”

"Oh, shit, I’m sorry,” Wally said. He squeezed Danny’s arm gently.

“No way you could have known. Who has a phobia over portals, right?” Danny said as he summoned his best attempt at a smile for Wally.

“Are you okay to…” Wally glanced from Danny to the portal nervously.

“I, yes? Can you just explain to me how it will go?” Danny asked. He pressed himself close to Wally, doing what he could to scrape together his frayed nerves. It wasn’t like he hadn’t gone through the actual portal that had killed him all the time. It was just that now all that felt like a lifetime ago, a lifetime no one remembered but him.

“Of course, babe,” Wally said, twining their arms together before he launched into a passionate explanation of the Zeta tubes.

It would be alright.

He could do this.

He had Wally.

-----

AN: Wally and Barry: We have something so cool to show you! Danny: *has portal based ptsd* ._.

I no longer tag people, but you can subscribe to the masterpost!

[muxshwriting]

my good luck charm

Carlos Sainz x Indian!reader

summary: everyone is looking at Carlos at his home gp to win. but Carlos isn't bothered by the pressure, he's too busy looking at you || word count: 1092 || masterlist

REQUESTED by @malvikareader : Carlos and Indian reader meet at Spanish gp and he is mesmerised by her

It was utter chaos. Everyone was looking at Carlos as the homeboy hero of the Spanish GP, saddled with the expectation to win his home race. He had been dragged from interview to interview by his PR manager but all he wanted to do was have a moment to himself to breathe and relax before the race. Yes, he was driving a Ferrari, one of the top performing teams of the season and Carlos had been one of the few drivers to win a race so far.

You, on the other hand, were having the time of your life in the F1 paddock. You'd been invited by your agency as a PR stunt for your new modelling campaigns. You were infamous, one of the most successful models of your time. Not only were you stunning, you cared about real issues. You were trying to work towards a brighter future, focusing on issues such as climate change and poverty across the world.

Carlos was stuck at yet another interview where they asked him the same questions as the others. He replied with the same generic answer he'd given everyone else, casting his mind away from the interview and subtly glancing around the rest of the paddock to see what was going on. It just so happened to be when you were walking past the interview pen, locking eyes with Carlos.

Whatever answer he was giving began to come out stuttered as Carlos stumbled over his words, utterly captivated by you. The world seemed to slow as you waved at some of the fans scattered next to the track, laughing at something one had said. God, why did you have to laugh like that? Carlos could barely breathe. He wanted to be the one to make you laugh like that, no one else, just him.

"Carlos? Hello?" The interviewer was trying to get his attention and Carlos begrudgingly looked away from you.

"Sorry." He quickly apologised. "Can you repeat the question?"

★--~-~--★

Ever since catching your eye, Carlos had been searching for you in the paddock. No one seemed to know who he was referring to (given the sheer number of celebrities on the grid) but it didn't dissuade Carlos. The race was a couple hours away as Carlos weaved his way through the garage before being stopped by his race engineer.

"Carlos! I think media is looking for you to meet some ambassadors for sponsors and stuff." He explained, pointing to the office area.

"This can't wait until after the race?" He was distracted enough already, he didn't need to add simpering up to sponsors to his list.

His engineer simply shrugged. "Sorry man."

Carlos sighed, takes a deep breath and then makes his way to the media manager's office. To his surprise and shock (and delight) he sees you quietly talking to someone else. Also to his delight, he sees you wearing a ferrari jacket you didn't have earlier, a jacket that had his driver number plastered on the back.

"Hello." Carlos internally kicks himself for just saying 'hello' to the most beautiful woman he's ever seen.

You're first to introduce yourself. "Hi! I'm Y/N, an ambassador for Ray Ban. It's really nice to meet you considering I watch you race almost every week-" You seemed to cut yourself off from rambling on after meeting him.

Carlos only grows more lovestruck. "No problem. You'll be watching today?" He assumed you were but wants any excuse to keep talking to you.

"Yeah." You offer him a small smile. "You'll do great, I'm sure."

"You think?"

Your smile only grows. "Oh yeah. I'll be cheering you on."

"I'll make sure to win for you." He sends you a wink that has your cheeks warming at an alarming rate.

He's pulled into conversation with a few other ambassadors but continues to catch your eye from across the room. Eventually, he's pulled back down to the garage floor to get ready for the race and has to say goodbye to you.

You go for a hug that Carlos greatly welcomes. "Good luck." You whisper to him. "You'll do great."

You end up in the back of the Ferrari hospitality, anxiously watching the race. Carlos started on the second row, working his way through the front runners and navigating a risky pit stop strategy by his team. He had taken the lead of the race six laps from the end, holding off Verstappen until the end of the race and finishing in first place.

The garage went nuts, mechanics jumping up and down with glee. You could hear the crowds cheering for their driver's win at his home circuit and joined in with the celebrations. You find yourself swept with the crowd as they rush down to the podium area to watch the cars arriving. Carlos jumped straight out of the car and into the arms of his team. As the adrenaline began to wear off, he caught sight of you standing by the side of his engineers.

Your face held a look of awe as he walked closer. There were a few stray tears (of joy) in your eyes as you hugged his tightly. "I told you you'd do great."

"All for you." He confessed, pulling away and seeing Charles behind him with a smug grin on his face. "I've got to go but- can I see you later?"

"I'll come to your driver's room, yeah?"

Carlos' smile widened. "I'll be waiting for you."

You watched in admiration as Carlos stood in the Spanish sunshine, soaking in his victory. He couldn't stop his eyes from drifting to you, ignoring the cameras that were watching him and watching where his eyeline kept straying to. Both of you were oblivious to the eyes watching you, unable to look away.

You both met just outside Carlos' room, embracing properly. He pulled you into the room, away from prying eyes and you took your chance, diving forward and pressing your lips against his. Carlos froze beneath your touch, making you regret your actions and begin to pull away to give him space.

Carlos did the opposite, he deepened the kiss, reaching up to hold your face in his hands and pull you even closer. The two of you separated, sharing the same breath in the small room.

"Can I come watch you again?" You whisper into the air, suggesting a future.

Carlos met your eyes with a solemn look. "I wouldn't want anything else. Besides," He joked. "You're my good luck charm now, you can't leave me with bad luck."

[xorose-f1]

bothering - charles leclerc

summary: you have an argument with Charles... again

authors note: not proofread, sorry for any mistakes<3

contains swearing!

genre: fluff

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You couldn't deny that these days you felt really distant from Charles. It was his summer break, and you planned to spend most of your time together since you couldn't always travel to his races. You knew that he loved his job, and that he really wanted to be in a better car, so you didn't say a word when in his first few days of summer break he was away on team meetings and other work related stuff.

But after a while it became really annoying for you too, he was constantly being away while always making empty promises. "I'll take you out to dinner tonight" turned to "I'm too tired right now", "We can spend all day together tomorrow" ended up in "Sorry, I have to leave for a meeting". And all of this resulted in you almost fighting every single day, today not being an exception.

Charles just arrived home, throwing his keys to the kitchen table and sitting down on the couch. A tired sigh left his lips, as he finally looked at his phone after hours of it being silenced. The first thing he saw is the countless of messages you had sent him, and that's when the realization hit him. He forgot your date night.

7:38PM Y/N: Charles, it's almost 8PM, where are you? Weren't we supposed to go out? Y/N: Are you even looking at your phone? Y/N: I swear I'll be so mad if you forgot again

8:13PM Y/N: So I guess you did forget about it again Y/N: Can you atleast call me?

Just as he was looking at the messages, you appeared behind him.

"Charles, you promised me that we will go out tonight, do you even remember what you said yesterday?" you told him, you were really angry at this point. It bothered you that you could barely spend time together and when you did have the opportunity to, he treated you like you weren't even there.

"Y/N I told you I'm busy, what can you not understand in that? I have constant team meetings and-"

"It's your summer break Charles! You're supposed to be at home, or anywhere else other than team meetings"

You could tell that he was pissed off, but he didn't exactly deny what you just said.

"Not to mention that you didn't even left me a single text, you could have atleast said that you don't have time for me"

"Don't you understand that I'm tired too? The last thing I want to come home to every day is you arguing with me all the time and interrupting when I try to explain, can you just fucking leave me alone for once?"

"Oh so that's what the fuck you want Charles? Me to leave you alone? Do you even realize what you're saying right now?"

"Just stop for fucks sake Y/N"

And that's when you had enough. You put your hands up in defeat, looked at him with rage and left for your bedroom without saying a word. You locked the door and started sobbing a bit, as much as you tried to look tough for him you hated constantly fighting with him. You felt like you were no one to him.

Charles sighed out loud. As soon as those words left his lips he regretted it, the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you. He took his phone out of his pocket again and dialed his brother, Arthurs number.

"Hello?"

"I fucked up big time, Arthur" Charles said.

He explained everything that happened in the past few days, and his brother was shook. He never once heard Charles talk/act that way towards you, and he himself didn't know what got to him. While he was spending his summer break with his girlfriend, Carla, his brother was treating his own girlfriend like shit.

After a long call and some "you're an idiot"'s later, Charles had noticed it was already really late. He hung up the phone and went to your shared bedroom, noticing that you unlocked the door. As much as you didn't want to see him right now, you also didn't want him to sleep on the couch after the long day he had.

The first thing he noticed when he entered the bedroom was your back. You usually waited for him with open arms to cuddle, but this time you just simply turned away from him. He also noticed the dress you picked out for your date on the floor, your makeup bag being a mess and a bunch of makeup wipes, and some tissues too.

He felt like a complete asshole, not only did he avoid you but he made you cry aswell. He felt like his heart shattered at the sight of your dried tears on your cheek, but at the same time he didn't want to wake you up from your peaceful sleep.

He changed into his pajama pants, and laid down next to you. He wrapped his arms around your waist and hugged you from behind, holding you really close to him and drifting off to sleep.

You woke up to the sun shining through the curtains, you figured it would be late already so you were surprised when you felt a pair of arms hugging you from behind. You thought that Charles will go to work today too but he didn't, when you turned around to look at him you noticed he was up already. You just looked at each other, when he broke the silence.

"I'm really sorry Y/N, I got a bit too carried away with work. I never realized how much i avoided you and I'm sorry if I hurt you with anything, I really want to make it up to you"

"It's okay, Charles" you smiled. "I know work is important-"

"Work is never more important than you, love. Now get ready, I will take you out to breakfast" he said.

[wileys-russo]

First time calling Alessia ‘baby’?

short n sweet.

baby II a.russo

"but i like it better when you make it!" the blonde smiled as she rested her chin on her fist, looking back at you adoringly as you rolled your eyes playfully.

"correct me if i'm wrong here less but i think when you invite someone over for dinner its generally not so that they cook it for you!" you teased, but regardless began to grab out the necessary ingredients already knowing where everything was, comfortable and familiar in alessia's small flat.

only living the floor above her in the block, there was seldom a day that passed where either one of you didn't spend some amount of time in the others home.

you had first encountered one another the day she moved in. you were returning home from a rather stressful work shift, rummaging around in your pocket for your house key when you heard a rather loud crash from downstairs.

racing down you found the then unfamiliar blonde laying on the floor with a defeated sigh, boxes scattered around her where she had obviously tripped over something and sent them flying.

"hi, do you need a hand?" you bit your lip to refrain from laughing at the scene in front of you, alessia's head darting toward you with a mortified expression, cheeks tinted a rosy pink with embarrassment.

"she needs more than a hand she needs an entirely new body. less you're such a clumsy idiot!" a shorter brunette had then stuck her head out of the girls front door, rolling her eyes and bending down to collect a box before venturing back inside.

"i'm y/n. you just moving in?" you asked with a friendly smile, hopping down the last two stairs and offering her a hand up. "i'm alessia, and yeah. sorry for the bother! i was basically unofficially born with two left feet." the taller girl joked, rubbing the back of her neck nervously, admittedly a little more stunned at your beauty than the fall she'd just had.

"less man you gonna stand around flirting all day or get her number and come and help me?" the brunette returned, sending alessia's cheeks an even darker shade of red at the comment. "tooney!" the girl hissed as the shorter of the two shot you a wink and grabbed another box.

"she's very single." the girl notified you bluntly as alessia looked back in horror at her best friend who quickly made herself scarce. "sorry about her." alessia mumbled in embarrassment, unsure how else to really continue on after the interruption.

"she seems fun." you grinned, eyeing a pen on the floor and feeling a sudden unfamiliar wave of confidence roll through you. "give me your hand." you motioned as alessia looked at you with confusion but did so anyway, you quickly scribbled your number down on her wrist and placed the pen in her palm.

"oh, thanks!" alessia perked up, twisting her wrist to read the numbers as you headed back upstairs, hearing her friend call out for her to hurry up from inside.

"oh and for the record, i am also very single." you smiled shyly before disappearing out of view, only letting out a breath after you'd closed your own apartment door.

it had been several weeks since then, and with a very insistent ella urging her on alessia had asked you out for coffee that very next day, and then you'd asked her to the movies, and your ongoing back and forth of dates had commenced.

though nothing yet had been made official, the two of yet to properly talk out how you were feeling, there was a strong connection building.

"hey i invited you over purely for the pleasure of your company, the cooking for me is just an added bonus." alessia winked cheekily as you shook your head with a smile, flicking on her stove top. "well then the least you can do is be my sous chef." you placed a chopping board, a knife and a variety of different vegetables in front of the striker.

"if you can manage that without injury." you teased as the blonde now rolled her own eyes, mocking you under her breath. "can you do the carrots first please baby." you'd asked casually before turning back to the stove, not even at first registering what you said.

"what did you just say?" alessia breathed out, she having most definitely registered the new term of endearment. "i said can you do the carrots first please baby." you repeated, your eyes widening as you heard yourself, unable to force yourself to turn around to see her reaction.

"sorry, i didn't mean to-sorry." you shook your head, feeling a blush spread across your cheeks as you busied yourself filling the pot with water. "you don't need to be...baby." alessia replied, a rosy pink glow coating her own cheeks as she also refused to look toward you to see your reaction.

unknowingly you both smiled shyly to yourselves, butterflies erupting in your stomachs. a few beats of silence passed before you quickly changed the topic, asking her how training had been.

even though neither of you had discussed it, it seemed you had both just confirmed that in fact the connection was mutual, and you were both excited to keep exploring it.

[softxsuki]

HAPPY 1.5K HAN!!!!! 🥳 Your blog is getting so big already! IT MAKES ME SO HAPPYYYYYY!! 😁

Ahem- okay, so... if you're up for it, could you do the trope #1. enemies to lovers with BNHA? 🙏

Take your time, I love you! 😘

1.5k Follower Event Trope #1 My Hero Academia

Trope 1: Enemies to Lovers

This event is now CLOSED. You can view the masterlist for the event here.

| Pairing: Bakugou x Gn!Reader | Genre: Fluff? Hurt Comfort? idk | Post-Type: Oneshot (...) | Word Count: 1.5k (idek how I did that tbh) |

Warnings: Slight curses from Bakugou, reader is hurt, blood

Note: Thank you so much! Sorry for the longish wait. Hopefully it was worth it! I had a lot of fun writing this one. I still can't believe I wrote 1.5k words, my gosh. Love you <3

Everything was a competition between the two of you; having gone to UA together and now working at the same agency as Pro Heroes, you were always racing to see who was the best.

Whenever a villain report was announced over the ear pieces you both wore, it would be a race to see who could get there first and take down the villain the quickest. During patrols, you’d both compare the number of civilians helped and received bonus points for any villains caught during patrol as well. You and Bakugou were rivals, but deep down there was something more that both of you refused to pursue. 

It was almost natural now for Bakugou to see your smiling face, racing him to see who would arrive on scene first when you were both dispatched. So, he felt his heart falter slightly when he showed up that one specific day to catch a villain but you never appeared. He can’t help the feeling of disappointment that fills him upon not seeing your face, he could have sworn he also heard your name in his ear piece being called to aid in taking down the villain in front of him now…not that he needed your help or anything.

Shaking himself off, he quickly takes down the villain, handing him over to the police and doing any paperwork they needed from him before returning to the agency. It wasn’t the same, and he hated how upset he felt just because you weren’t there.

His journey back to the agency was torturous. He was getting antsy now that he had  arrived back to the agency and still didn’t see you anywhere. Where were you? Why didn’t you show up and why weren’t you at the agency? He hadn’t heard anything about you being dispatched elsewhere. 

Bakuogu fought back the voice in his head telling him to ask someone about you, so he could find out where you were. But he couldn’t do it, the last thing he needed people to think was that he was desperate or needy for you; he did NOT like you…right?

Minutes turn into hours and still no sign of you, Bakugou was starting to lose his patience. It was a particularly slow day at the agency, very few villains were appearing that night, which most of the interns that were around for the day could easily handle the ones that did decide to cause chaos. He had finished all his patrols for the day and Ii anything, he probably should have been home by now, but he remained, trying to look busy at his computer and grumbling a response to anyone that dared to bother him. Why the hell weren’t you back yet?

He had enough, with a rush of energy, he jumps up from his chair and storms out of his office to head to Kirishima, his friend, and try to nonchalantly ask about you. But he freezes in his place at his office door and he sees you hobbling down the hallway.

Slight relief fills him as soon as his eyes meet your form, yet even more questions arise in his mind when he takes in your state; you’re covered in blood and hobbling as the hero beside you guides you by your arm, helping you to the medical room they had in the building. 

A gruff grunt escapes Bakugou’s throat as anger bubbles inside him upon seeing the rando beside you. But what gets him going is that damn smile on your face, the one that never seemed to leave it even now when you clearly were in terrible shape.

His feet seem to move before his mind can keep up as he’s in front of you in a matter of seconds, glaring at the guy holding your arm before shoving him away.

“Leave, I need to speak to Y/N about a mission,” He lies, hoping the guy wouldn’t suspect anything, but he’s speeding off in another direction before Bakugou has a chance to say anything else to him.

Turning to you, he replaces the guy's hand on your arm and continues to help you walk to the medical room, making your eyes widen slightly at his unusual gentleness, but your smile still remains despite the pain searing through your entire body.

“Where the hell were you?” He asks gruffly, looking straight ahead, feeling a little awkward. “You okay?”

“Why, were you worried?” You tease, trying to ease the awkwardness you felt running through him. You weren’t okay, he could see that and so could you, but he didn’t know what else to ask, so he remained silent…weirdly enough. 

You sigh and explain your situation to him. “They called me in for a secret mission, said my quirk was ideal for it, but obviously I couldn’t tell anyone else about it. Guess I wasn’t strong enough though…I would have been a goner had Deku not shown up when he did.” You mumble, feeling ashamed at how weak you had been against that villain, you needed to get stronger. Though you shake off your negativity, and flash Bakugou your infamous grin, “But I’m okay now!”

“You’re plenty strong, you can keep up with me, and that says a lot,” Bakugou almost whispers back, he was acting very strange and unlike himself, but you felt your heart skip a beat at his attempt to console you. 

Not wanting to embarrass him though, you change the subject as he continues to guide you to be evaluated. 

Little did you know the fiery blond beside you was doing everything in his power to not push you into one of the empty offices you were both passing so he could inspect your injuries himself. He needed to know how badly you were hurt, but he held himself back as soon as the medical room came into view. You’d be okay.

He remains outside the door through your whole examination as someone with a healing quirk works on you. There’s only so much they can heal though, the rest was up to your own body to heal on its own. But Bakugou stands there, arms crossed around his chest the whole time.

As you’re dismissed and given specific instructions from the nurse on duty, you thank her and leave the room, your eyebrow arching up in surprise at the sight of Bakugou still standing there, doing his best to avoid your eyes. With a shrug, you walk away, heading to your office to collect your things before leaving the agency for the night. The nurse had stated you’d need to rest for a few weeks before you’d be ready to get back into action, but coming to the office to do paperwork would be more than okay to do.

You could feel the presence of the blond following your every move as you exit the building, walking in the direction of your home with him hot on your tail. Frustrated, you spin around, which makes him pause.

“What are you doing?” You ask, eyeing him.

“What? I live this way.”

That was a lie, you knew it was a lie, Bakugou lived in the complete opposite direction of you, but you could see the look of discomfort on his face, so you let it slide, spinning back around as you continued to walk, with him following your every move.

Bakugou knew what he was doing was strange, but he couldn’t help the sense of protection he felt in his chest at that moment for you. Crime in the city was slowly on the rise, and you clearly weren’t in any condition to defend yourself at the moment, so he just wanted to make sure you got home safe.

And that’s exactly what he did. For the whole two weeks you were healing, he walked you home, sometimes walking by your side as the two of you engaged in some conversation. Other times, you’d feel his large hand rest on the small of your back as a few people got too close, and he’d use his body as a shield so they didn’t touch you.

You were beyond confused, yet the way your face heated up and your heart picked up its pace told you, you were okay with it. Perhaps a little too okay with it, because once you were back to normal, your heart dropped, knowing he’d no longer walk you home. Your little two weeks of bliss with Bakugou around to aid you would be over.

So, at the end of the day when he appeared beside you like usual, your brows furrowed.

“What are you doing? I’m fine now,” you explain calmly, trying not to let your disappointment leak through your tone.

Bakugou smirks at you, tugging the bag his hero suit was in further up his shoulder. “Walking you home, what does it look like I’m doing?”

This continued every night after your shifts together, but some nights he’d invite you to dinner or his pinky finger would find its way to yours, holding it gently.

You two were definitely still rivals, nothing could satisfy Bakugou’s excitement for competition like you could, but now there was another layer of excitement that existed inside your hearts. One that could only be satisfied with little touches and quality time spent together, perhaps it would grow into more, the longer you both fed it with each other’s company.

Posted: 1/8/2024

[lightsofthe-living-gvf]

Si Vis (if You Want to)

18+ Minors DNI

Danny Wagner/Sam Kiszka

Summary: Fueled by racing adrenaline and alcohol, Sam and Danny find themselves in one of their dressing rooms post-performance, blurring the line between friendship and something more.

Warnings: smut, porn with plot, friends to lovers (eventually), swearing, some banter, light mentions of alcohol and drinking, tipsy sex, kissing, handjobs.

Little disclaimer: this is purely fiction and is in no way making speculations about the guys and/or their relationships.

Word Count: 4.8k

A/N: Hello, everyone! This has been in the works for a while, now, and I am so excited to finally share it. It will be a sporadically updated series, at least until my work schedule slows down a bit. I know that Sam/Danny isn't everyone's cup of tea, so if you don't like it, scroll on!

Danny could still hear the crowd as he made his way through the maze of hallways that would lead him to the greenroom, so loud and unwavering in their applause and exclamations of praise. He would always be absolutely floored by how the audience roared for him and his bandmates, and the number of shows Greta Van Fleet played nor the ever-increasing size of the venues at which they performed would never change that. Sometimes, he would pop out his in-ear monitors at the end of a song (Highway Tune, normally, right after his drum solo) to listen, just long enough for his hearing to go fuzzy from the sheer volume that echoed throughout the arena.

He felt as if he were up in the air, his head buzzing either from the adrenaline rush that came with playing such a fanatical show or the shots and other alcoholic beverages that had been passed around their set. He couldn't pinpoint which, but he figured it was a generous mix of both. He was replaying moments from the show in his head: Jake's guitar being so crackly and thunderous that it shook his cymbals, the swells of flame so close to his body he could reach out with a drumstick in hand and singe the tip of it, and Josh's joy while singing Light My Love, so infectious that he just had to crack a smile, and sing along with his entire chest. He was still so caught up in it all that he hadn't really registered the sound of his name being called or who it was being called by, not until the source of the voice was right beside him.

"Did you lose your hearing or something? Slow your ass down for a second."

Sam.

"Oh, hey, sorry," Danny said, slowing his pace a few steps and allowing Sam to catch up to him without having to speed-walk. "What's up? You sounded really good, tonight, by the way."

"So did you." He nudged playfully at Danny's side, then looped and arm through one of his, so that they were walking with linked elbows. They were then close enough that Danny could smell the alcohol on his breath, and he could see the flush across the bridge of his nose and all over his cheeks. Sam continued, "I have some more shots in my dressing room. You down?"

Danny pondered the offer. Or, pretended to, anyway. He never could find a reason to say ‘no’ to Sam. Even in this situation, where he most likely had more than just a few shots hiding away in his dressing room and that meant that he and Danny were going to wake up with a hangover the next morning. However, it wasn’t as if they couldn’t handle a hangover.

So, without much thought, he agreed, "Yeah, sure, Sam."

"I knew you would be." Sam grinned. He pulled his elbow from Danny's, his fingers just barely trailing down his friend’s forearm as he reached for his wrist instead. He always got a bit more touchy-feely when he had something to drink, but it had never really bothered Danny. He was well used to the Kiszkas’ love language.

When they stepped inside his dressing room, Sam went right into the mini fridge and pulled out some shots and a few bottles of beer, too. Just as Danny had assumed he would. He then straightened back up, grabbed a shot without looking at the label, unscrewed the cap, and threw it back.

"Heads up," Sam said suddenly, giving Danny only a few seconds to whip his head in that direction and get eyes on whatever was flying in his way. Sam had tossed him a shot and luckily, the small bottle was made of plastic, because Danny was too slow to catch it. It bounced off his chest and right onto the carpet beneath his feet.

Sam laughed as Danny bent over to pick it up, "Nice catch, dude."

Danny tried to raise his eyebrows all unamused-like, but he couldn't help but to chuckle a little as he spoke, "That was a bad throw."

He took the shot, scrunching his nose until the burn went away.

"Hey, watch this," Sam said. He grabbed a beer bottle, positioned its top against the edge of the vanity counter, and in one swift movement, slammed his palm into the bottle cap and popped it off. The beverage bubbled over the rim of the glass and onto the floor, but Sam didn't really care. He showed the bottle—now without a cap—off to Danny with a goofy smile on his face.

"Cool, Sam," Danny praised lightly, as if Sam hadn't been proudly performing that trick since they were old enough to go to parties, and even before that. "Do one for me?"

Sam happily obliged, opening a bottle in the same fashion and then handing it over to him. Danny took a swig, his curls just barely sweeping over his bare, freckled shoulders in a way that had Sam's eyes lingering for just a moment longer than what would be traditionally considered platonic. Honestly, Sam had abandoned ‘platonic’ ideals in regard to he and Danny’s relationship long ago, even if he hadn’t outwardly expressed that. He just didn’t feel the need to ignore the beauty his friend so obviously exuded, both physically and as a person, too.

Briefly, the picture of how Danny had been when they first started touring crossed Sam’s mind. He’d been so lanky, still not having grown into his height. And his hair- Sam could laugh out loud at how he and Danny had done their hair, back then. Regardless of his slightly dorky appearance, however, Danny—at his core—was the same person now as he was when they were just graduating high school. Gentle, considerate, and as sweet as can be. Just with a little more self-confidence backing it all up. Despite the lack of mental qualms Sam had about admiring the physical features of his best friend, his cheeks still flushed when he realized he’d been thinking about all of that while looking entirely into Danny’s direction. And they perhaps got even redder when he saw that Danny was, in fact, looking right back at him with a slightly confused expression that countered the face Sam was pulling, which was a moderate display of heart-eyes. Sam wondered if the fact that he’d been nursing boozy drinks since well before their acoustic set would be a good excuse for the little moment that he had just created between himself and his best friend.

But before he could dwell on it any longer, there was a swift banging on the dressing room door and a subsequent shout, “20 minutes ‘till go-time!”

Instead of apologizing or making it any more awkward, Sam decided to deplore, “Only 20 minutes?”

Danny shrugged. “The venue probably just wants us out of here so they can clean up. I’m gonna go change.” He turned to grab the door handle, but Sam’s hand settled on his forearm, stopping Danny’s movement. He turned back with a raised brow, “What’s up?”

Sam stared at Danny for a moment, letting his own thoughts reel. Why the hell did he do that? What was he going to say?Sam genuinely had no idea, because the only reason he’d really stopped Danny from leaving was to satisfy the impulsive urge to kiss him dizzy. It had been tugging at Sam all night, flaring up and searing like bright blue flame whenever Danny- well, whenever Danny did basically anything. So much for never outwardly expressing his non-platonic feelings.

After a few stretched-out seconds, Danny gave Sam a look, his brows tipped slightly in concern. “What’s the matter, Sam?” he asked in a tone so tender and caring that Sam truly believed he could weep if he wasn’t trying to keep it together.

“Nothing’s the matter,” Sam assured him quickly. And maybe it was all the alcohol catching up to his brain or even just plain desire rendering his self-control entirely useless, but he added, “I just have to ask you something.”

“What?”

Fuck! Why did he say that?? Suddenly so nervous he could hear his own heartbeat and immensely regretting opening his mouth in the first place, Sam faltered, “Well uh… It’s kinda hard to word.”             Danny chuckled a little. “Just tell me, Sammy.”

“Okay, okay. Fine.” Sam gave a short sigh before continuing hesitantly, “Do you ever think about me in like- a different way? Or, you know… us? In a different way?”

Sam had hoped his vaguely-worded question would be enough for Danny to understand what he was trying to say, but he just tilted his head in a painfully oblivious manner. “What do you mean? Different how?

“I don’t know how to explain it,” Sam, huffed.  

“Well, what—”

Sam—now acting only on his unmanageable desire and nothing else—cut Danny off by crowding him back against the wall next to the door with firm hands on those pronounced hipbones of his. The skin beneath his fingers felt like heaven, and the warmth of their closeness perhaps even more so. And before Danny could say anything else or even make a noise of surprise, Sam kissed him.

Danny’s mind went totally blank. His limbs stiffened in sheer shock from the move that Sam had just pulled, and the only thing he could register was the faint taste of beer on his best friend’s lips. But before he could even relax himself and try to chase that taste, Sam broke away from him.

Danny blinked at Sam, his lips parted dumbly. Sam had just kissed him. Right on the mouth. No hesitation, no bashfulness, and certainly no flirty smile or batting eyelashes. Danny was rendered totally speechless as the reality of it all sank in, in the same way a cannonball would sink to the ocean floor after being fired: slowly.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” Sam’s voice, as small as it had been all night, broke through to Danny and for a few seconds, they just looked at each other. Sam, waiting with bated breath and Danny, still unable to find his voice. It was just a moment too long for Sam because he shamefully turned his head and took a step back from Danny, his hands falling from his hips as if the skin was burning his fingertips.

“Sam,” Danny breathed, tugging him back with a hand on his wrist and connecting their lips once more. And this time, Danny reveled completely in Sam’s kiss. His best friend kissed like he spoke, vivaciously and free from most inhibitions. His lips were as soft and as plush as they had always looked to be, and Danny felt the sudden—but not unwelcome—urge to kiss them red and swollen.

 Sam weaved a hand into Danny’s hair, his fingers trembling ever so slighting. And despite the anxiety—albeit rapidly fading anxiety—still gnawing at his stomach, Sam deepened the kiss with a gentle tolt of his head. To his delight, Danny went right along with him, bringing his hands to rest on Sam’s waist and pulling him close to his chest with a little tug.

While Danny was a little surprised by the way Sam had just outright kissed him, he certainly wasn’t upset about it. Afterall, Sam always acted on whatever was in his heart without so much as a question, and Danny knew that. He trusted in that, and he trusted in that indescribable and indestructible bond of theirs, because… why wouldn’t he? Sam was his closest friend and musical counterpart. It was all very black and white; Danny adored him.

Danny also knew that the very way he was entangled with Sam could change the dynamic of their friendship for as long as it would stand—if it could even be called a friendship, afterwards—but he couldn’t- he wouldn’t bring himself to even entertain the thoughts of the consequences, especially not when it felt so good and so right to hold Sam as close as he was.

And all of the thoughts tripping around Danny’s head came to a stuttering halt when Sam broke away and began pressing delicate, yet meaningful kisses along his jawline and down the column of his throat. So, Danny did what anyone else would do and tilted his head to bask in the treatment. Each warm touch of Sam’s lips to his skin sent delightful little tingles down his spine, and he wouldn’t ignore that just for the sake of overthinking.

Danny hummed and it was only a low, hardly audible sound produced from the bottom of his throat, but it was just enough to encourage Sam to sink his teeth into the skin beneath his lips. He found himself needing more of those noises, and he received more in the form of a pretty, choked gasp. Danny wondered fleetingly about how he was going to explain he mark to his make-up artist, but when Sam soothed over the reddened spot with his tongue and a few more light kisses, the thought was quickly replaced by the strong desire to feel his lips and hands all over his body.

Danny started grappling lower, pointedly digging his fingers into the soft flesh of Sam’s ass. And upon hearing Sam’s grunt, followed by the subtle movement of his hips pitching forward, something so warm and so electric stirred in Danny’s belly, leaving him fighting to keep his composure. In that moment, Danny wanted to do anything and everything with Sam, but he couldn’t be sure how far Sam wanted to take this, if he wanted to take it any further at all. So, instead of making any more moves, Danny zeroed in on the sensation of Sam lavishing his skin with kisses and nips, occasionally giving his bottom a light squeeze.

“Fuck- Sam,” Danny inhaled sharply as Sam scraped his teeth over the protruding point of his collarbone. It stung, but in a way that had his cock twitching helplessly in his pants. He used his hold on Sam to yank him impossibly closer, the friction of it all causing him to let out a short, low whimper.

Sam warmed the spot with a lap of his tongue, then came off and murmured, “Was that too much, Daniel?”

If Danny hadn’t looked down and seen the daring smirk on Sam’s face, he would have almost thought he was genuinely worried that he had been a little too rough. But, no- the words were a tease, and Danny had to play along. In fact, he had never felt more compelled to do anything in his entire life.

So, Danny huffed with feigned sass, “It wasn’t enough, actually.”

“Oh, yeah?” Sam pulled away, gazing at him with a cocked brow. “Is that why you’re already a little hard?”  

Instead of answering, Danny took Sam’s lips once more. Almost instantly, Sam was poking his tongue out from behind his lips, prodding at Danny’s own. Danny opened up for him gladly, and as soon as he did, he was delighted by the taste of sugary beer coating his tongue.

At that point, Sam was acting on instinct, and instinct alone. His languid movements and banter were all products of his unrelenting desire; there was no critical thought behind them at all. He would rather have it that way, anyway.

He certainly wasn’t thinking about the consequences of his actions when he pulled away from the kiss and breathed, “I know we don’t have a lot of time, but do you wanna do this?”

“We’ll just have to make it quick,” Danny urged, catching Sam’s eyes with an unexpectedly desperate expression. “I want this. I want you, Sam.”

Without another word from either of them, Sam brought his fingers down to the button on Danny’s pants and in one swift motion, popped it open. He pulled the zipper down and the moment he was able, gently freed Danny’s cock from his boxers, and holy shit- if Danny didn’t have the prettiest cock that Sam had ever seen. Sam was—by no means—ignorant to the attractiveness of other men, but he had never really seen anything like this. Even only half-hard, Danny’s cock was still modestly long and perfectly rounded and a soft pink color. Sam had to stop himself from muttering some sort of expletive.

Danny watched him with his teeth sunk into his swollen bottom lip, a sharp stab of need shooting through the walls of his weakening resolve. It was so electric, the way Danny found himself longing for Sam with his entire chest. And when Sam spit wetly into his palm and gave his first real touch—a tentative stroke downwards—to Danny’s cock, all of those cracked walks crumbled and he let out a soft, pleasured moan.

“Tell me how you like it, Danny,” Sam commanded gently.

Danny managed to choke out a question in return, “How would you do it for yourself?”

“Um… Fast? Firm?”

Danny huffed a laugh at that. “Don’t say firm. But do that,” then he politely added, “please.”

With that, Sam wasted no time building up a steady rhythm, pleasantly firm and hurried with the hopes of getting Danny to the edge before management came banging on the dressing room door again. Danny tossed back his head and drew a shaky breath. There was some rational part of him, way in the back of his mind, that still couldn’t quite process that he and Sam were doing this, but he shut his eyes, anyway, and focused on the perfectly thrilling feeling of Sam’s nimble fingers wrapped around his length.

Sam allowed his free hand to run fervently down Danny’s side, mapping out the skin he’d always snuck glances at, yet never had the explicit privilege of touching in the way he’d really wanted to. He smoothed that hand along Danny’s ass, next, then over the dimples on he small of his back, before bringing it back upwards to press against the plan of muscles between his shoulder blades. He wanted to explore and appreciate all that he could while he had the opportunity to do so.

He then slowed the movement of his working hand, thumbing right at the head of Danny’s cock until he saw a dribble of pre-cum appear from the slit. Danny couldn’t stop the broken whine that peeled from his throat as Sam continued on with his movements, faster and just a little slicker than before.

Sam hummed with delight at the noise. “How’s that? Is it good?”

“So good,” Danny returned breathlessly. “Don’t stop.”

Sam murmured, “Not really planning on it.”

As he worked, Sam watched Danny; the way his eyebrows furrowed when he did something that must have felt particularly good, and how he bit his lip to desperately keep from making a sound too loud for the small confines of the dressing room. And the more he watched Danny dissolve into boneless bliss, the less he could bear the ache of his own cock straining against his pants. So, with his free hand, he hastily undid his own button and zipper, then pulled himself out.

Danny blinked sluggishly at the loss of Sam’s hand roaming his body, and realized he’d been so caught up in his own pleasure, that he hadn’t been paying any mind to Sam’s. He was then quick to spit into his own palm and bring it to Sam’s cock, moving his hand out of the way and giving him a soft, apologetic look. Sam made a low noise and pushed his hips needily into Danny’s fist.

Sam and Danny worked themselves into a hasty, harmonious rhythm, not unlike the one they were able to form when up on stage, playing for a crowd of thousands. They had always been so in-tune with each other; it was just something that came with the bond they shared so fiercely. It was a trust rooted deep in their hearts, formed not only by years of making music and performing with each other, but by laughing together, bickering with each other, and everything in between.

And when Danny’s orgasm began to approach, it wasn’t the way his chest started heaving or how he was no longer able to choke down his noises that told Sam he was getting there, though those were all good hints. No, it was a knowing feeling that came from deep inside his stomach, showing itself with a shimmering intensity that he didn’t exactly need to look into at the moment. He tore his eyes away from where they had inadvertently begun to gaze at their hands and instead cast his glance upwards with a burning need to see Danny’s face- to see if it was anything like those sinful looks that he pulled on stage.  

To Sam’s entirely depraved joy, the expressions were deliciously similar. Danny’s cheeks were flushed, his eyes hooded and glossy, and his lips—so pink and pretty—were parted. And his tongue was even darting out from between them sporadically, as if he didn’t quite realize he was doing it. He looked so debauched and divine that it made Sam’s stomach flutter with desire, and his cock leak pearly drops of pre-cum.

“Sam—” Danny choked.

But Sam already knew what he was going to say, and cut him off, “You’re gonna cum, aren’t you?”

Danny nodded fiercely.

“That was pretty quick,” Sam teased lightly, as if he wasn’t nearing his own peak and just as desperate to come undone as he assumed Danny was.

“Shut up,” Danny retorted, jerking his hips along with the rhythm of Sam’s hand. Sam was right: he was achingly close, and he had gotten there fast, too. He wished he could blame it on all the alcohol and the adrenaline that came from playing a show, then immediately doing something like this. But he couldn’t. Really, Danny knew the only reason he was approaching the edge so rapidly was because it was Sam who was dragging him there.

And eager to reciprocate the ecstasy Sam was working him towards, Danny doubled down in the pumping of his fist over Sam’s cock. In response, Sam let out a breathy moan and bit his lip, his head dropping lazily forward onto Danny’s shoulder. His fingers—though calloused from years of drumming and playing guitar—felt so amazing that Sam couldn’t help but to buck his hips, too, fucking himself into his friend’s willing fist.

“You’re so hard, Sammy,” Danny whispered breathlessly, as if he couldn’t quite believe that he was the one causing it.

Sam whimpered in response, “Uh-huh.”

He was almost at a loss for words, which wasn’t something that happened very often. Sam knew he could ramble on forever if he was allowed to. But now, with Danny’s pace picking up and with the fingers of his free hand curling around his ass, he found that he only words he could say were broken phrases and mindless curses.

Soon enough, however, Sam began to pull out all of the stops, yearning to watch Danny lose himself to the pleasure they had created. He hastened the movements of his hand just a tick, while simultaneously dragging his thumb over the head of Danny’s cock and following the prominent vein down with every stroke. He was so hard and hot and slick beneath Sam’s fingers, that he found it to be intoxicating. In fact, it had him periodically biting at his already-red lips.

“Shit,” Danny gasped. “I’m almost there.”

Danny’s hand then snaked around Sam’s shoulder to hold the back of his head. He pulled him forward and connected their lips amorously, delighting in the sweet, muffled noise Sam made. It caused Sam to falter in his movements. He just couldn’t help it, not when he couldn’t ever recall a time when he’d ever been kissed like that. Danny’s kisses were so fervent, it was as if he were trying to draw all the breath from his lungs and replace it with stardust.

Sam was losing himself to the feeling, at least until Danny interrupted their kiss with an impatient whine against his lips. He hastily refocused his attention to the task at hand, rubbing his hip and breaking away to kiss at his jaw in apology. Despite being truly sorry for slowing down right as Danny was nearing his peak, he did feel a little rush of satisfaction at the way he had lost his composure.

And without much more than a hitching moan as a warning, Danny came into Sam’s hand. Sam’s cheeks went red-hot as he eagerly worked Danny through it. He watched his expression transform from a scrunch into something all pleasured and fucked-out, and that was enough to nearly make up for Danny having let go of Sam’s cock in the midst of it all and instead clawing at his wrist and hip.

But still, it wasn’t enough to get Sam any closer to the edge, so he took hold of his own cock—so hard it nearly hurt and so slippery with—and began pumping himself with a relit desperation to finish himself off before their bus had to leave. He groaned into the thick, open air, and that’s when Danny regained his senses and swatted Sam’s hand away.

“Let me do it,” he murmured, and began stroking Sam’s cock with a rapid fervor. Tilting his head downwards and guiding Sam to tilt his, he started pressing kisses and nips to the hollow of his throat, tangling his hand in his hair to keep him still as he continued his onslaught.

“Danny,” Sam’s moaned unexpectedly high in his throat.

“Close?”

When Sam nodded vigorously, Danny worked his wrist in a twisting motion, watching at the slit of his cock wept and thoroughly enjoying his responding whine. Sam bucked his hips, wordlessly urging Danny to go faster and accompanying the silent plea with a gasp. Danny complied, flicking his wrist hastily until—

“I- Ah- I’m coming- fuck!”

Sam shot directly into Dany’s palm, and maybe it was because his head was still a little floaty, but in that moment, he could swear it was the most beautiful he’d ever seen Sam. And while Sam was still panting from the force of his orgasm, Danny surged forward and captured his lips in a bruising kiss. And Sam let Danny kiss him hard, until they had to break away from one another for air.

“Well,” Sam was the first to speak after a moment of only shallow breaths. “That was hot as hell. I’m gonna get us something to clean up with. Not that it’ll do much.” He punctuated his statement with a short, boyish laugh as he looked down at their hands and freshly ruined stage pants.

“Right,” Danny nodded, leaning his head back against the wall. Coming out of his warm, post-orgasm haze, he could feel the coolness of the drywall against his skin and the ache in his shoulder blades caused by pressing against it for so long. He stayed like that, though, until Sam came back with some tissues.

Sam and Danny made themselves decent in a silence laced with a little bit of tension, cleaning themselves up and straightening their clothes and running their hands through their hair until it laid as flat as it could. Sam glanced over to Danny, and his heart panicked and sank to his stomach as he watched him wipe mascara smears from the corners of his eyes. What was Danny going to think of him—of them—nowthat they had tipsily stumbled across an unexplored line? In the morning, when they were nursing slight headaches and dry mouths, would Danny hate Sam for what they had done? Would Sam hate Danny?

But then, Danny caught his eye and gave him a little smile, and Sam felt himself relax. They couldn’t ever hate each other, could they? There was no room for hate in the relationship they’d spent so much of their lives strengthening and relying upon.

Banging sounded throughout the room, and this time it was followed by Josh shouting from the other side of the door, “What in the hell are you guys doing in there? We have to go?”

Sam then braced himself for the door to open and for Josh to just come barging in, but it didn’t happen. He almost cried in relief. Danny turned to open the door, but before he could reach it, Sam stopped him.

“Wait- how are we gonna explain our fucking clothes?”

Danny looked down at his clothes, then looked back up at Sam. “Uh- we can… tell them we spilled some beer?”

Sam narrowed his eyes and contemplated the suggestion, before deciding that it was truly their best option.

“Okay. But be cool, alright?” he said. Then, his voice dropped to a whisper, his tone erring on the side of desperation. “We can’t let them know about this.”

Danny nodded, biting back some sort of bitter emotion with a swallow, and agreeing, “I’m always cool, Sammy. It’ll be fine.”

Sam then allowed him to open the door, internally praising Danny for being the one to explain and subsequently take the brunt of all the nagging, from his older brother or otherwise.

[lecsainz]

Hotel Room

pairings: pierre gasly x horner!reader

warnings: room cards exchanged, pierre almost hit by a vase, christian horner being a cool uncle and pierre shamelessly flirting.

authors note: even though it's very short, i had fun writing it.

word count: 680

Pierre Gasly arrived at his hotel after a long day of practice sessions. As he walked towards the reception to check-in, he received a card key from the receptionist, and without bothering to check the name or room number, he went straight up to his room.

Once inside, he put his bag down and noticed that there was a towel on the floor. Confused, he walked towards the bathroom to investigate, and that's when he saw her - a beautiful woman, wearing only a towel, walking out of the shower.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" Y/N yelled, grabbing a vase and holding it defensively.

Pierre, taken aback by the situation, tried to explain that he was given the wrong room and that he was just as surprised as she was.

"Hey, stop! I didn't know this was your room! And put down that vase, you might hurt yourself." Pierre said, trying to calm her down.

"You can't just barge in here like that!" Y/N exclaimed, throwing the vase at him, causing Pierre to duck out of the way just in time.

"Get out of my room!" Y/N continued to scream, picking up anything she could find and throwing it at him.

"Okay, okay, fine. I'll leave. But you're the one who invaded my room, you know. And by the way, you look really nice in that towel." Pierre said with a smirk, trying to lighten the mood.

Y/N glared at him, not amused. "Just get out!" shouted, throwing a bottle of shampoo at Pierre.

He ducked as the shampoo bottle sailed over his head and crashed against the wall.

Pierre realized that she wasn't going to listen to him, so he grabbed his bag and made his way towards the door. As he was leaving, Y/N's phone rang, and she answered it, still angry. "Hello?"

“Y/N, I just got a call from the hotel. They told me that Pierre Gasly, the driver for Alpine, was given the wrong room key and ended up in your room by mistake. Is everything okay?" Christian Horner asked, concerned.

Y/N's eyes widened in realization. "Oh my god, that's what happened. I thought he was some random guy who had broken into my room. I threw a vase at him and everything."

Christian let out a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness he's okay. I'm glad it was just a misunderstanding. Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I'm just embarrassed now." Y/N said, feeling mortified about her earlier behavior.

"Don't worry about it, Y/N. These things happen. I'll call the hotel and make sure everything's sorted out." Christian reassured her.

After Christian hung up Pierre turned around, curious about what was going on. Y/N hung up the phone and looked at him with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry, I had no idea who you were. My uncle is Christian Horner, the boss of Red Bull Racing. He's going to kill me."

Pierre couldn't help but laugh. "Don't worry about it. It's an honest mistake. And it's not every day that I get to meet the niece of one of the most important people in my sport."

Y/N gave him a small smile. "I guess you're right. I'm sorry for overreacting."

"It's okay. And by the way, I really did mean it when I said you look nice in that towel," Pierre said with a wink.

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn't help but laugh. "You're such a flirt, Pierre."

"Guilty as charged." Pierre said, grinning.

"Well, now that we've cleared that up, I guess we should introduce ourselves properly," Y/N said, extending her hand. "I'm Y/N."

"Pierre,” Pierre said, shaking her hand. “It's a pleasure to meet you, mademoiselle.”

Y/N smiled at Pierre. "You can just call me Y/N."

"Y/N it is then," Pierre said with a smile. "So, now that we've met under such interesting circumstances, can I buy you a drink or something to make up for the misunderstanding?"

Y/N chuckled. "Sure, why not? But only if you promise to tell me more about yourself and what you do."

"Deal." Pierre said, grinning.

[herrscherofinsanity]

One of us is falling

Summary: Getting lost trying to find a party was never meant to be a good thing, but Jimin always found a way to surprise you.

Fluff

Yu Jimin (Karina) x fem!reader

Word count: 1.8k

_____________________

I’m late, I’m late, I’m so late. Mrs. Santos is going to kill me.

Those were the words echoing in your mind as you raced down the street towards the restaurant you worked at. Your sister was supposed to drive you there, but the old van you two had been sharing finally gave up which meant you had to make a run for it if you wanted to keep your job.

You burst through the doors of Café Contigo startling the people inside. You sent them an apologetic smile as you made your way to the register where one of your other coworkers was doing her best to stifle her laughter.

“You okay?” Sana, another waitress at the restaurant, asked. “It’s not like you to be late, and you look like you just ran a marathon”.

“Car problems” you mumbled, trying to tame your hair. “I’m sorry, just give me a second to get my uniform and I’ll join you”.

You made your way to the small locker rooms located at the back of the restaurant, trying to get yourself ready to go as quickly as possible. You sighed, it’s not like you hated your job, the restaurant was very well kept, the pay was generous, and the staff (bosses included) were very nice, what bothered you was the fact that you were wasting precious quality time with your best friend.

Yu Jimin, your best friend since middle school who was a college student on the other side of the country while you stayed in your hometown working as a waitress.

You and Jimin had done everything together ever since you had met, you were inseparable, but when the time to graduate came around you realized your plans were different. Jimin wanted to go to college as soon as possible; you on the other hand, wanted to take a year off and get some rest.

Even though you took different directions, your friendship kept standing strong. You tried to talk to each other as much as possible, and you were understanding of the other’s schedule; nevertheless you still longed for your best friend.

When Jimin announced she would be coming back for a few weeks you were over the moon, mentally planning everything you and your best friend would do together. It would’ve been perfect… if only your work schedule didn’t clash with absolutely everything.

You had spent the first day of Jimin’s break glued to each other; from watching movies, to catching up or simply enjoying each other’s presence, but it couldn’t last forever. You had an early shift at the restaurant the very next day, so you weren’t going to be able to hang out with the other girl. Jimin had complained at first, but she relaxed when you proposed an impromptu sleepover.  As you finished getting ready, you blushed, remembering Jimin’s words from the night before.

“You have no idea how happy I am to be back home”.

“What’s so good about Bayview? You’re not missing much”.

“I wasn’t talking about Bayview, I meant you. You’re my home”.

Butterflies. You frowned at the feeling, you had never felt like that when it came to Jimin, it was foreign. You shook your head, walking out of the locker room and towards an occupied table. Now wasn’t the time to dwell on your new found feelings for your friend, you had a job to keep.

“Hi, welcome to Café Contigo! Are you guys ready to order?”.

 

____________________

“Hey y/n, it’s time for your break” Sana walked up to you with a smile on her face. You thanked her and made your way to the back so you could check your phone. You let Jimin know last night when your break was supposed to start with the hopes of her joining you for a bit.

As you retrieved your phone from your bag, you noticed you had two missed calls from your best friend. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, did something happen to her? You dialed her number and Jimin, impatient as always, picked up on the first ring.

“Finally!” she exclaimed. “I thought you had a break right now?”.

“I do” you laughed “it just started”.

“Okay, well, that’s great because I have something important to tell you”.

“Yes?” you bit your lip in anticipation, the butterflies coming back.

“I have this bucket list of things I want to do before I have to leave, and one of those things is going to a party with you!” she announced happily, you giggled at her antics.

“And why is that something you want to do? We’ve been to parties before”. Jimin paused for a second before replying as if she was weighing her options.

“Because it will be different this time, we’re older and wiser” she said, but her argument wasn’t really convincing, nevertheless you accepted. You would gladly walk through a burning house if Jimin asked you to.

“Okay then, whatever you say” you replied.

You two kept chatting away for the remainder of your break, the butterflies never leaving you alone.

____________________

“Hey!” Jimin exclaimed when you got into her car. “You look beautiful tonight”.

You had rushed home when your shift at the restaurant ended, you didn’t want to make Jimin wait, so you got ready as fast as humanly possible. Your outfit and make up could be better, yet Jimin still thought you were the most beautiful girl she had ever seen.

Jimin had insisted on driving you both to the party so you could spend as much time together as possible, and you didn’t have a reason to complain so here you were.

“Thanks, you look gorgeous”. You meant what you said, Jimin looked amazing with her signature black jean jacket, the rest of her outfit matching it effortlessly. The longer you stared at your friend, the hotter your face felt. Butterflies, great. You cleared your throat, trying to pull yourself together, Jimin looked at you curiously. “So, where exactly are we doing?”.

Jimin chuckled nervously before replying. “I have to be completely honest with you, I’m not sure”, you shot her an incredulous look which made her laugh genuinely this time. “Don’t look at me like that. I have the address, I’m just not familiar with that part of the city, but it’s okay! It’s part of the adventure!”.

You playfully rolled your eyes at your friend, only Jimin would say something like that. “Whatever you say, Jimin, at least we’re spending time together”.

“That’s the spirit!” she said as she drove away from your house.

Laughter filled the car, you and Jimin kept exchanging stories and singing along to the playlist you had chosen for the ride. Everything felt right in that moment, there was nothing that could ruin the peace you shared.

"Oh wait" Jimin said, she lowered the music's volume as if that would help her see better. "I think we're here".

Jimin parked the car near a house that looked like it hadn't been inhabited in ages. Even though Jimin didn't give you much details regarding the party, you were still sure she wasn't the type to go to abandoned places for fun.

"I don't think this is the place, Jimin" you said carefully. She squinted, trying to get a better look at the house and then turned to you with a shy look on her face.

"Yeah, I think you're right" she set the car in motion once again "let's keep going, it shouldn't be far from here". You hummed in agreement, but boy were the two of you wrong.

Jimin had made a total of six stops where she was “one hundred percent sure” the party was taking place. With each failed location, the frown on her face deepened and her frustration sky rocketed; you on the other hand, found the whole thing hilarious. From the way Jimin would furrow her eyebrows in concentration, to how she would run her hands through her hair in frustration and the way she pouted her lips like a child… you found the scene to be more than a bit amusing.

You finally cracked when Jimin locked eyes with you, the frustration swimming in her eyes was clear, but the little smile she sent your way in an attempt to seem nonchalant made you laugh your heart out.

Your laughter filled the car, Jimin scoffed at your reaction but eventually joined in on your amusement. You both laughed until your stomachs ached and tears were spilling out of your eyes. Jimin made an effort to wipe your tears away, but she had always been clumsy to a fault. Instead of being smooth and brushing your cheeks, she ended up stabbing one of her manicured nails right on the bridge of your nose, leaving a small scratch behind.

Jimin panicked when she realized she had hurt you, she leaned in to try to get a good look of the scratch and that’s when your laughter died down. She’s too close. Butterflies.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you!” she exclaimed as she cradled your face with her hands, examining the small wound. You felt your face heating up at the close proximity and the attention you were receiving.

“It’s fine, I know it was an accident” if you hadn’t been staring so intently at your best friend, you would’ve missed the way her eyes moved from the scratch on your nose to your lips for a split second.

“I’m sorry…”

“Jimin, you don’t have to keep apologizing, I’m okay” you breathed out, she was still holding you close.

“That’s not what I’m apologizing for”.

Before you could ask her what she meant, Jimin cut you off by pressing her lips against yours. The butterflies you kept feeling around your friend came back in full force. You quickly moved your lips against hers, not wanting her to think you were rejecting her advances.

You had never done this with your best friend before, you had no idea you felt this way towards her, but in that exact moment, with Jimin softly moving her lips against yours, caressing your cheek with one of her hands while the other was tangled in your hair, everything felt right. Kissing Jimin felt right, it felt like coming home.

The kiss ended way too soon for your liking. Jimin pulled away but her forehead was pressed against yours as she tried to catch her breath. “You have no idea how long I have been wanting to do that”, she whispered.

You smiled, pecking her lips before quickly pulling away. You giggled at the pout she had on her face. Wrapping your arms around her neck you sent a sly smile her way, “should we keep looking for that party or would you rather go back to my place?”.

“Maybe you and I should have a party of our own”, Jimin replied breathlessly before pressing her lips against yours once more, the promise of something more was made very clear with the way she kissed you a bit more desperately this time.

____________________

A/N: Hi! It's been a while since I last posted something, I've been way too busy with classes this semester. I hope you enjoy this one shot, I will definitely make an effort to finish the longer ones I have planned.

By the way, if you get the references included in this work, we should get married.

[sassycheesecake]

You’re walking down the hallway, ready to take the biology test.

Going over your notes that you prepared yourself with two weeks ago, you mumble under your breath, repeating what blood type is compatible with different types and the differences between viruses, bacteria, parasites and fungus.

When you walk past the janitor’s closet, you don’t see a big hand snatching your wrist and pulling you inside.

Screaming in fear, you drop your learning cards and a second hand clamps over your mouth in order to muffle your screaming.

The door slams shut, and your wide eyes find mischievous brown eyes with a teasing smirk, that you know and love.

Taking his hand off of your mouth,

"Issei Matsukawa! You scared the shit out of me!" You whisper-yell at him, calming down your racing heart and breathing.

"I haven’t seen you at lunch, wanted to make sure my girlfriend is still alive." He grins at you while placing his hands on your waist to pull you closer to his chest.

He already has his volleyball uniform on, the turquoise number 2 almost illuminating the dark space.

"I am really sorry, you know I have that test in a little bit and if I fail this one, my mum will kick my ass." You apologize.

"No worries but I know a way you can make it up to me." Issei lifts his eyebrows in a suggestive matter.

When he presses himself closer to you, you can feel his hard-on through his gym shorts.

Giving him a deadpan look, you turn him down.

"Issei, we have like five minutes. And with you it’s never five minutes. And I am not doing this in a closet with you, I have more dignity than that."

"Then about a good luck kiss? A couple for your test and my practice."

You think for a few seconds, giving into your desires.

"Alright, but only five min-" The ravenette interrupts your talking with a harsh kiss that quickly turns wild and passionate.

His big hands wander down to your things, underneath your school uniform and squeezes them twice, an indication for you to jump.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you told your head to the side to deepen the kiss.

With your tongue sneakily gliding over his lips, he immediately grants you entrance and your tongues begin a war that he wins.

The longer the kiss, the more Issei and you begin to pant and moan.

Tanging your hands in his curly, soft black hair, you tug on it harshly and the Middle Blocker hisses at the sensation and pushes you into the wall.

The school bell rings, signaling that the small break is over and Matsukawa unwillingly parts from you but not fully, until you can still feel his soft lips against your own.

Panting your hands travel from behind his neck to his face, you and the middle blocker still have your eyes closed. The rush of Oxytocin fogging up your brain and the adrenaline rushing through your veins is making your mind race with desire.

"I really should get going, otherwise Mr.Hashita is not going to let me take that test." You whisper, calming down from the passionate kiss you shared with him.

"Yeah, that’d be a real bummer, considering you canceled on me so many times to study for that stupid test." Matsukawa says with a chuckle, pressing one more chaste kiss against your lips and then lets you go.

Opening the door, you fix your hair and top a little bit, trying not to make it too obvious you just had a heavy make-out session with your boyfriend in the janitor’s closet.

Matsukawa doesn’t even bother to fix himself up, in fact, he looks pretty proud to have made out with you with the possibility of getting caught.

"Wipe that satisfied smirk off of your face Issei!" You giggle while shoving him a bit.

He chuckles along with you, picking up your cards that you dropped earlier to hand them back to you.

Thanking him for the gesture, he puts his Aoba Johsai jacket around you, kind of like marking his territory.

As he leans down to give you one last kiss, you’re interrupted by his approaching teammates.

"Did you two just fuck in there?" A familiar voice, that sounds like the Aoba Johsai’s Setter, asks in a disgusted manner.

Squeaking and being startled by the sudden noise, you and Matsukawa turn to see Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Hanamaki and Yahaba with grinning faces staring at the two of you. With the exception of Iwaizumi, who looks like a disappointed parent.

"Really Issei? The janitors’ closet?" Iwaizumi scolds the Middle Blocker with a frown.

But Matsukawa is in such a great mood, he doesn’t care.

"It ain’t my fault that I got game and the rest of you don’t." Matsukawa shrugs and makes his way together with Maki to the gym.

"Listen up you little shithead! I’ll have you know that all the girls in this damn school want me!" Oikawa calls behind the middle blocker.

Ignoring the Setter, Matsukawa continues the path with Maki on his right.

"Did you really just have sex with her in there?" Maki asks intrigued.

"Didn’t have enough time for that. And I never half-ass things. Pretty sure Oikawa would have bust his balls in like two minutes."

Maki laughs at that and both teens make their way to the gym in a great mood, especially Matsukawa seemed to play extremely well that afternoon.

[missmonsters2]

—FLASHOVER | SEVEN

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x OFC/Fem!Reader

Summary: Wednesday finds it's pleasant talking to you. There's a rhythmic back and forth, easy to follow along. So, why is it that you've been making bets and comments in your latest conversations that are way too emotionally charged for someone like Wednesday to know what to do with the static and friction.

Warnings: Competitive!Wednesday. Jealous!Wednesday. Competitive!Enid—she's gonna win that trophy again. Thing—should be getting paid honestly. Xavier—only knows losing.

Series Masterlist | Library Blog | AO3

Reminder there’s no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Note: This is a little longer to make up for the short chapter last time 🤏 let the action begin! I hope you enjoy it ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) also yes i did change part 6's graphic nobody say anything shh

Part Six

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Flashover: Noun. The moment a conversation becomes real and alive, which occurs when a spark of trust shorts out the delicate circuits you keep insulated under layers of irony, momentarily grounding the static emotional charge you've built up through decades of friction with the world.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

It was the day before the Poe Cup race, and everyone was finishing the last touches to their boat. 

"Are you sure this is okay?" You ask with a tilt of your head.

Enid and Wednesday glanced at each other.

"No."

"Yes."

They say it simultaneously, and you give them an amused smile.

"I mean it's not, not okay," Enid explains to you. "I need to win this trophy a second time in a row, alright?"

Enid finishes polishing the last of the boat, waving the two of you off as Yoko comes in, holding a jumpsuit that makes Wednesday's lip part slightly and sigh. Placing her hand on the small of your back, she begins to push you to walk away.

"Aren't you going to stay and finish helping?" You ask curiously, though not resistant at all to being led away. 

"No," Wednesday drones. "I'm only entering as Enid is down a rower. My conditions were that I'm copilot again this year and that outside of giving my input and checking on the boat, I wouldn't be forced into their team-bonding."

You give her an amused smile, stopping as the two of you stand in the empty hall. Turning to face Wednesday, her eyes are alight with curiosity, even if the rest of her face doesn't show it. 

"Wednesday," you call her name softly, your smile lingering on your lips. 

The ravenette peers back at you, and you feel memorized by how long her lashes are. It takes you to then admire her smooth skin—even if it lacks life. Wednesday's lips are also supp—

"What," Wednesday drives you back to reality. Her eyebrows are furrowed, confused by your intensive study of her face and silence.

You bring the crook of your finger to your mouth, clearing your throat with a cough, trying to suppress the blood rising to your cheeks.

"I was just wondering if you're ever bothered about the fact that we're..." your voice drifts off as you think about the correct way to label the two of you, "involved, and you don't have my number. I have yet to hear even one possible nickname for me from you."

"Why?" Wednesday asks with a raise of her brow. "Are you offering it to me without?"

You smile with a shake of your head. "I'm afraid not," you say but don't look sorry at all. "Rules are rules, Wednesday."

"Rules are made to be broken," Wednesday pushes back. "If I had followed every inane rule since arriving at this penitentiary, everyone would've been none the wiser and perished."

"Hm," you hum, conceding with a nod. "I would argue more that despite your lack of knowing the rules, everyone survived."

Wednesday glares at you, and she's about to demand that you explain, but you cut in before she can say anything.

"I'm enchanted by rule-breakers, Wednesday, but only by those who know the rules well enough to break them," your smile is teasing, but Wednesday can't help but tense her shoulders and stifle her frown. She's about to say something when she spots movement from the side of her eye.

That lanky, stuttering boy. 

"F-Fae!" He started hesitantly but grew more confident when he saw you smile his way.

"Hello, Henry," you politely greet. "How are you today? Are you heading to the practice room?"

He nods eagerly. "I'm good, and yeah. I swear I can do something cool if you can come see it next time," he smiles shyly back but doesn't give you time to accept or decline. "Are you going to the Poe Cup race tomorrow?"

You nod. "Yes, Bianca has asked me to come cheer for her."

Wednesday bristles. 

"Will you be going?" You ask Henry.

He looks regretful as he shakes his head no. "Unfortunately not. My father's birthday is this weekend, and I'm picking out his gift rather last minute. I'll be heading into town mulling over what I could possibly get the perpetually unsatisfied man."

You look on pityingly at him. "I'm sure he'll be happy with what you get."

"Yes," Wednesday cut in. "If not, then get him something he will undoubtedly be miserable with."

Henry looks at Wednesday strangely while you try to hide your chuckle behind your fist. 

"Well, Henry, Wednesday and I better head to class. I'll let you know who wins the race." You wave him goodbye, and he happily returns it back. He looks at Wednesday, waving at her too, but she merely stares at him before turning away to walk with you. 

As they're walking, Wednesday can hear footsteps. There's a nagging feeling in her stomach and a pricking feeling on the back of her neck. She turns her head back to look at the lanky boy but sees him sitting under one of the arches of the hall.

The sight leaves Wednesday confused, but she turns her head back to you. 

"You're cheering for Bianca?" Wednesday asks flatly, leaving out any emotions in her tone that could reveal her feelings.

"Well, she did ask me very early on," you reveal, slowing your walk down as you're in no rush to get to class. 

Wednesday follows your pace, disgruntled by the sudden change in speed and your answer. "You have pledged your allegiance to the wrong side as I will be defeating Bianca for the second time in a row. Switch or you will taste defeat right along with her."

You lick your lips, trying to not laugh. "I don't know. Bianca mentioned she had a very strategic plan. It's possible she may win."

"Over my dead body. Thing is aggrieved with you."

"Thing isn't even here," you point out, laughing. "Alright," you grin. "Why don't we make a little bet?"

"And what exactly will the winner get?"

You look up slightly in thought before looking over to Wednesday. "How about the winner gets to plan the first date?"

Wednesday comes to a dead stop. She looks at you, a little wary. "First date?"

You nod. "I think we're due for our first one." You seem like you're going to say something else but pause for a moment before sighing. "Damn, we really have all of this backward. At this rate, we'll end up doing everything else before you get my number."

Wednesday mildly scrunches her nose, her lip curling at your comment. "Why on earth would I want to plan our...our..." Wednesday can't seem to get the words out. "A date," she forces out instead.

You smirk at her. "Because if I plan it, I might subject you to a night of snood-wearing, hair-braiding, nail-painting, 2000s romcom movies date night."

Wednesday's eyes widen, looking ghastly at the suggestion. Disgust is written all over her face, and it takes everything you have to not burst into laughter. "I thought dates were supposed to be enjoyable for both parties."

"I have to keep you on your toes," you say, trying your best to sound serious. 

They start walking again, and Wednesday's eyes flitter back and forth as she considers your words. "Would you really subject me to that kind of torture?" She doesn't know whether to hate you or be proud.

"No," you admit, unable to continue your charade. "But now you know there is an appeal to being able to choose the activities we do."

The two of you stop in front of the class door, and most people have already arrived. 

"Good luck in the race, Wednesday," you say softly, starting to walk into the classroom. 

Wednesday feels the tension in her ease at your well-wishes and soft tone. 

You look back at her with a brow raised. "And maybe next time, ask me earlier to come cheer for you."

Wednesday clenches her jaw, following after you as she snaps back. "Perhaps don't agree to cheer for the enemy regardless of how early she asks."

It's irritating when you can sense when there is and isn't a bite in her tone because you only turn around, giving her a smile that makes her own lips threaten to match.  

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The sun beats down on Wednesday, making her normally cool skin feel clammy under her catsuit. The race was about to begin soon, and Enid was yammering something to her, but she wasn't listening. 

Looking around, Wednesday spots you chatting with Bianca, looking impressed with the sirens' boat. Her lips purses mildly in irritation as she turns back to Enid.

"What's the matter?" Enid asks, but Wednesday doesn't give her an answer, forcing her to search for what could irritate her best friend and roommate. Enid finds it immediately.

"It's totally fine," Enid dismisses, trying to comfort Wednesday. "Once we win, faerie berry will be celebrating with you."

"You already used that one," Wednesday ignores everything else Enid says, "and it's foul."

"To you," Enid says, stinking her tongue out. "I'll have you know it made Fae laugh."

"What's the point of having the nickname if you're going to call her Fae anyway," Wednesday points out. "Admit it. You've run out of ideas."

"O-m-g, just shut up," Enid scrunches her nose at her roommate. "This is what I get for trying to comfort you while your girlfriend cheers for someone else."

"She's not my—" Wednesday feels the heat flare up in her cheeks, even if it doesn't show (thankfully). But Enid cuts her off and starts dragging her towards the canoe.

As they all sit in their positions: Wednesday and Enid in the middle, Yoko at the front, and another girl at the back. The crowd settles and they prepare to hear the signal. 

Ajax isn't participating this year, so there is no one to distract Enid. Or so Wednesday thinks, but Enid turns her head around and smiles at her boyfriend.

"Focus, Enid," Wednesday sighs. 

The gunshot goes off, and everyone begins to paddle rigorously. It's similar to how last year started off. Everyone except Wednesday is unaware of the secret siren lurking under the waters. The first boat is eliminated almost immediately. 

Wednesday finds it suspicious that Kent heads towards her boat despite knowing she has a net prepared. But she's not left with much choice and has Thing activate the first switch. 

Just as last year, the siren is caught in her net. When Thing comes back onto the boat, he describes how the siren slowly sinks to the bottom as he tries to claw his way out. Wednesday hums, her eyes continuing to focus ahead as she paddles.

They reach the halfway point, and when Wednesday looks, she sees you peacefully sitting at the edge of the wooden dock, your feet free of shoes and socks as they languidly dip in the water. 

You send her a small wave and smile at her, which she doesn't return. But then you also look at Bianca, who has also spotted you, and send her two thumbs up at being slightly ahead.

Wednesday rows more forcefully. 

When they reach the Crackstone's crypt, Wednesday runs off to grab their flag as she did last year. She's highly sure that Thing won't be able to distract anyone else from deserting their boat, so Enid and Thing will need to get creative. 

"Hope you don't plan on taking a cat nap this time, Addams," Bianca quips as she catches up to Wednesday. 

"Why not?" Wednesday monotones, not bothering to look over. "I did last year and still managed to beat you."

"That was beginner's luck," Bianca snappishly says before smiling. "Just like fencing."

"We'll see," Wednesday answers with finality before out-running the siren to the crypt. 

Xavier has already grabbed his flag, flashing Wednesday a cocky smile as he passes her. "I'm not losing this year, Wednesday!"

She doesn't pay him any mind as she runs up to grab their own flag. She grasps it, ready to run back, when something catches her eye from the side. Amongst the yellow and green leaves lay a single vivid cobalt teal petal. Leaning down, she goes to pick it up. The second her fingers touch it, her body seizes. 

Controlling her gift has become better over the summer, and she can stop herself from falling over, but she can't contain how it feels like livewire ripping at her skin, unnerving her. 

"Jericho grows these flowers—draeconiums. They're usually harmless and have a short bloom lifecycle."

"They bloomed under an eclipse."

"Poisonous sap—harder than any metal."

"It's the only thing that can cut off a faerie's wings."

Wednesday feels like she's choking. She sees blood coating her hands along with stray black feathers. Darkness slowly clouds her vision until it's all she can see.

"Did you think because I smiled at you that I was kind? That I wasn't capable of hurting you?"

Wednesday's eyes snap open. She looks around and finds herself still standing in front of the crypt, gripping the pole of her flag until her knuckles are white.

"Don't tell me you're winded." Bianca runs up, grabbing her flag and not even sparing Wednesday a glance. "Guess I should work you harder in fencing."

Wednesday doesn't say anything, beginning to run back to the boat. 

The voice was distinctly clear. After all, Wednesday hears it every day and even dreams about it sometimes. She hears it every night she applies the salve to your wrecked wings. The only thing that throws Wednesday off balance is the acid in the tone—in your voice. 

She looks at the creased cobalt teal petal in her other hand.

What was a draeconium petal doing on the island?

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The second half of the race becomes tense. 

Kent seems to not have escaped from the net, which Wednesday found odd. He must've been hiding somewhere. 

Suddenly, the Amontillado team starts to sink, and Xavier lets out a big groan, slumping in the back.

"What did you do?" Wednesday asks.

"Thing and I switched it up this time. I distracted them and Thing drilled holes at the bottom of their boat," Enid wickedly grins just as Thing comes out from hiding under, dragging a cordless drill. "I bought that over the summer. It's waterproof!"

"How did you distract them?" Wednesday was curious. 

"My feminine wiles." Enid looks so innocent that Wednesday almost couldn't tell if she was being serious or not. 

Now it was just the Black Cats, and the Gold Bugs left, and it seems Kent decided to make his appearance known then, coming up to push the Black Cat's boat, steering them off course and towards the buoy. 

Thing throws himself into the water, swimming under the canoe towards the siren, who is smirking. Just as Thing is about to punch Kent in his face, another siren pops up from behind, securing Thing into a bag and pulling the string closed tight despite the thrashing.

Wednesday waits a few more seconds, but the answer becomes clear, especially when she sees two tails splash up briefly from the water. 

Thing doesn't swim back up from the water, and their boat is still being pushed off course forcefully. Wednesday turns on the second switch, which activates the harpoon spikes on the side of the boat. This year, they implemented a few more that would be underwater to deter sirens from getting close. 

It seemed while Wednesday expected Bianca to bring more sirens to assist her under the water, Bianca had also anticipated Wednesday knowing and preparing their boat to adjust. 

Therefore, the queen bee siren had prepared something unexpected at the very end. 

Their boat suddenly stops being pushed off course but then something worse happens. In the water, the two sirens work in tandem, swimming in rapid circles, and a whirlpool near the Black Cat's boat forms with speed, beginning to drag their unwilling boat toward disaster. 

"Paddle!" Enid screams, but it's useless. 

Thing was trapped under. 

It wasn't like he would die or anything, but there was no way his fingers would have enough strength to swim away from the forming whirlpool. He would be sucked in, swirling around until he likely hit the bottom of the river, exhausted and unable to swim back up. 

They were just past the halfway point. Wednesday had seen you as she paddled back, looking just as relaxed and languid. Now, you were peering furiously into the water as if trying to find Thing. 

Your head snaps up, locking eyes with Wednesday as she is being pulled into the whirlpool. She isn't too worried as she's an adept swimmer, and the most challenging obstacle would be holding her breath long enough to make it through to the end of the whirlpool and not slam her head at whatever was at the bottom, then have enough air to swim back up. She hopes her teammates are capable of doing the same.

If she didn't drown, she might try to find the opportunity to discover where Thing was trapped.

But then Wednesday watches you stand, loosening the tie around your neck, discarding it on the ground before you roll your skirt's waistband down several times and pull it higher up your body so the length is above your knees. Then, she watches you do a perfect dive into the river. 

The first feeling Wednesday experiences is apprehension because Wednesday doesn't even know if you can swim. Why wasn't that one of the things she asked you? 

But she only knows right now that there's a continuous rapid whirlpool, getting stronger by the minute. If you get sucked into that, and you aren't an adept swimmer, you will certainly, at the very least, drown. 

It would be okay for Thing and sirens, but definitely not creatures that needed air. 

Wednesday throws her oar back into the boat, ready to throw herself into the water, when Enid grabs her wrists and yanks her back down. 

"Enid!" Wednesday snaps, feeling that apprehension grow into something worse when you haven't popped back up for air yet. 

"You can't jump down there, you idiot!" Enid snaps back. "Unless your skin can absorb water and turn it into oxygen or you're hiding gills somewhere, you'll drown! Our best bet is to paddle into the moving downstream of the whirlpool and slingshot ourselves around and out."

"Yes, however—" Wednesday starts to argue but is cut short when the rapid current of the whirlpool and the pull of their boat suddenly begin to slow down. 

The look of confusion passes through everyone's face, especially Bianca's, as she paddles past Wednesday.

Eventually, the water is still again, and the heads of the sirens responsible for the whirlpool pop out of the water.

"Fuck!" Kent shouts with his hands to his eyes, rubbing them. "I can't see anything!"

The other one near their boat pops up, looking frantic. 

"Why is it suddenly dark?" She sputters, holding out her hand as she wades through the water, trying to find something. Her hand slaps against the Black Cat's boat, and she looks alarmed. "Hello? Is anyone there?"

"Are you blind?" Enid waves her hand in front of the girl's face, but there's no reaction. She even jumped at Enid's voice, not realizing how close she was. "It's very much still daylight out."

Wednesday looks into the girl's eyes but finds something amiss. 

The girl is still sputtering, asking for help, but Enid is more ruthless than Wednesday thought, especially since it seems like the siren's vision is slowly returning.

"Peace and love to you but goodbye!" Enid shouts as she directs everyone to start paddling. 

Wednesday paddles but looks to the side, where she sees an arm shoot up and grab the edge of the wooden dock. Another arm shoots out, and you're hoisting yourself up onto it. Thing is on your shoulder, and relief floods Wednesday's body. 

Wednesday locks eyes with you, catching you wringing the bottom of your dress shirt and skirt. You smile at her before mimicking the gesture of her paddling, telling her she should paddle faster. 

Turning back to the course, Wednesday puts her back into paddling. It seems that this year, Bianca learned her lesson, building her boat with deadly weapons, and prepared for the worst-case scenario of Wednesday somehow catching up.

Just as Wednesday paddles up next to the Gold Bug's boat with the spikes out, Bianca activates the harpoons from her boat, forcing them to keep their distance. The sirens have planted spikes around their entire boat to prevent the Black Cats from trying to get them on another side. With her team being stronger paddlers, Bianca gives Wednesday a victorious smirk as she paddles away.

But—Wednesday had banked on the fact that Bianca would grow smarter. She activates the third switch on the boat. A lid opens up at the bow of their canoe, and a small harpoon cannon rises. 

"Don't miss," Wednesday threatens Yoko, who waves her off dismissively with a hand and grabs onto the handles. 

"What?" Yoko smirks. "Do you think my eyes being in the dark with the sunglasses on would impede my perfect vision? I only bumped into a wall 6 times this week."

Wednesday doesn't comment back, mostly because Enid already seems too high-strung at this moment that she's confident the werewolf would kill her vampire best friend if the girl missed the shot. 

Yoko spends only a few moments aiming before shooting, the harpoon shooting out with force, piercing right into the opening hole of one of the spikes on the Gold Bug's boat. 

"See!" Yoko grins. "All that worry for nothing." Yoko presses a button to reel the harpoon, and as it yanks back, it rips a hole into the Gold Bug's boat.

Water quickly fills Bianca and her team's boat, and they're left bitterly watching the Black Cats row by them a second year in a row. 

The cheers are deafening as they return to the dock, with everyone jumping and screaming.

"Yes, yes, yes!" Enid screams, hugging Wednesday as the girl grunts with displeasure but allows it. "This better be the only highlight of my year!"

Wednesday finds it amusing before she turns and scans the crowd. She sees you in the far back, trying to not draw any attention to yourself. Your hair is still damp, but your clothes look relatively dry as you've been standing in the sun. Thing isn't anywhere to be seen, assumedly going back to the dorm room to rest. 

You're not cheering or clapping, but you're beaming, seemingly pleased at Wednesday's victory. 

"You're getting really good at this school spirit thing. I know you have no beef with Bianca this year, but you have to admit that it feels good to beat her again," Enid conspiringly whispers. 

Wednesday turns her head to look at Bianca, who is climbing out of the water, looking vexed. "Defeating someone always feels good," Wednesday smirks. "But it feels better when there's a reason to."

That's what her fencing rival gets for asking you to come and cheer for her. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Wednesday knocks on the door of your room carefully. She's never been to your room before, but she does like how isolated it seems. The room is further down the hall, away from others.

"Come in." Wednesday hears the muffled voice on the other side of the door. 

Turning the knob, Wednesday enters to find you standing at your full-length mirror, drying your hair. You're in casual clothing, a sight that Wednesday is used to. Wednesday, herself, was wearing a striped black and white long-sleeved shirt and a black sweater over that. 

"Hey," you look at her through the mirror, smiling as you lock eyes with her. "Not going to celebrate with your teammates?"

"I told Enid I'd think about it," Wednesday says, recalling the same words she told the blonde last year. Of course, she had been thinking about it if you were there, but Thing brought her a note from you saying to come meet you after she was done celebrating.

Therefore, Wednesday opted to skip if you weren't going. 

You chuckle, not commenting on it. "Do you want some tea?"

Wednesday nods, looking down at the fuzzy black rug and a small round coffee table a few feet away. She strides her way around before sitting on the floor at the coffee table.

There are two mugs and a cordless electric kettle in the middle of your coffee table that you open up before grabbing a water bottle to pour its contents in. You shut the lid before turning it on, and the sound of water heating fills up the room.

Wednesday takes a moment to look around the room, noting how similarly plain it was like hers (her side, at least). The room was much smaller than Wednesday's, but it was obvious it was your room alone. 

You had little personal items, mostly photos you'd taken with your friends. Instead of a twin bed like everyone else, you had a queen-size tucked in the corner. Beside it, against the wall and in front of a window, was a long desk, enough for two people to work on it if they squished. But it was barren besides a laptop and a photo of you and Bianca and you with Enid and Yoko. 

At the end of your desk stood the full-length mirror. There was a reach-in closet on the opposite side of the room, filled with your clothes that hung neatly. A lot of them looked new and unworn. 

There was little walking room, but Wednesday found it comfortable. 

"You don't have a roommate?" Wednesday asks, even though the answer is obvious.

"No," you shake your head. "It'd be impossible to hide my wings with a roommate and I need to let them out every night or they'd be very, very sore. Not to mention how miserable I'd be keeping them for that long."

"It must be nice," commented Wednesday.

You shrug. "I'm used to it, I suppose. But sometimes I'm envious of the whole…" you wave your hand in a vague motion, "roommates thing. It seems nice."

Wednesday snorts derisively. "You say that without knowing Enid's habit for snoring and singing horrid pop music. It's hard to get work done sometimes."

You finish drying your hair, letting the rest of it air dry. You hang the towel on the mirror's edge before sitting down next to Wednesday, your shoulder bumping hers. "Well, you're welcome anytime here, even if I'm not around if you want some peace and quiet," you offer. "Usually if I’m here, I'm not doing anything much except on my laptop and with earphones in."

Wednesday fidgets with her fingers at your tempting offer. "I see you've fallen into the downfall of our age—technology."

You laugh, the back of your hand covering your mouth. It's such a melodic sound that Wednesday can't help but think of her vision earlier and the acid in your tone. 

Was it even possible?

The water finally finishes heating up, and you place the tea bags into the two cups before pouring hot water into them, sliding one mug in front of Wednesday, who nods in thanks.

"I will admit that I've fallen into binging Netflix shows or documentaries, and the occasional snooping of Enid's blog, but I can't say it's an addiction of mine," you reveal. "Fae realms aren't as modern as the outside world. We have things like electricity, heating, and plumbing but technology isn't as prevalent. It's more used for research than it is for entertainment."

"I see," Wednesday tilts her head at the information. She wishes her mother would hurry up with that goddamn diary. 

"I believe a lot of the younger generation is fighting for change but a lot of high lords are against it," you sigh.

Wednesday doesn't know what to say. She's not knowledgeable enough about fae realms to comment on it. But you change the subject before she can even attempt to think of an answer.

You turn to her, a crooked smile on your lips. "Congratulations on today," you say softly. "You were very impressive."

Wednesday shrugs off your laudatory. "Victory was only possible because of you," she acknowledges. She turns to you, narrowing her eyes. "You did something to those sirens. It caused them to be temporarily blind."

You nod. 

"Is that your power?"

You vaguely nod again, swaying back and forth as if that's only part of the answer.

"One of them, yes." You finally say. "It's a mild form of psychic powers. I'm not actually physically impairing their eyes, but rather clouding their mind, cutting off certain brain signals so that they think it's pitch black."

"I'm not really good at it," you hurry to say after, as if worried. "I don't have a lot of practice, and it can only last a few minutes at best."

"That is impressive," Wednesday genuinely compliments. 

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks and rub the back of your neck shyly. "Thanks," you mumble.

Wednesday senses your discomfort and decides to not push you about your powers for tonight. 

"I thought you were rooting for Bianca," Wednesday says quietly. "We had a bet, did we not?"

You tilt your head at Wednesday, almost as if you're confused by her words. And then you're leaning closer to her. 

Wednesday is impossibly still. The air suddenly feels electrically charged, sparks forming as the silence drags on. It was infuriating and intoxicating how you could turn the mood so fast.

"Wednesday," you call her name softly, silkily, making the ravenette twitch. "Are you a competitive person?"

"Most definitely." Wednesday answers without hesitation and in a tone that almost seems proud. "I can be obsessive, single-minded, and I don't often lose."

"I'm not a competitive person at all," you admit to her, leaning closer. "I make bets all the time without a care if I win or lose them."

You had taken a sip of your tea earlier, and Wednesday could feel the heat of it on your breath. She could practically feel the heat radiating off your lips. 

"That's ridiculous," Wednesday tries to keep the steel in her voice, but she feels something in the back of her throat wavering.

"Is it?" You retort back quietly. "If I make the bets, I can tell you now that I'm winning either way."

The words take a moment for Wednesday to process. Her eyes focus, recalling the bet, and she feels her stomach knot. 

"I don't care who plans the date," you say the words out loud, forcing Wednesday to publicly acknowledge it. "Because in the end, we'll be having a date."

You smile, and it causes your lips to brush against Wednesday, and her eyes flutter close.

"Although, I do admit it will be fun to watch you attempt to plan a date that will entertain us both," you tease. 

Wednesday's eyes snap back open, glaring at you. "Don't get ahead of yourself," she raises her brow at you. "If I can't be sure to plan the best date, I may settle to plan the worst one."

"Worst?" You try to not laugh.

"It would end in tears…on your end. Uncomfortable displeasure on mine."

"And the best?"

Wednesday is silent.

You let the silence linger between the two of you, basking in the proximity of Wednesday Addams. 

"Want to make another bet?" Your eyes flitter up to look into Wednesday's gaze.

"Exactly what kind?" Wednesday asks. Given your revelation, she knows she should say no, but curiosity has always been Wednesday's killer.

Wednesday watches you observe her, studying every meticulous feature of her face as if searching for something. Wednesday is stiff, but she's leaning closer even if she doesn't realize it.

"If you stay completely still for the next five minutes, I'll refrain and wait to kiss you on our first date," you say, moving somehow closer to Wednesday's face, tilting her face more against hers. Your lips brush but never fully touch. "If you move, you have to kiss me right now."

Everyone knows that Wednesday can stay still long enough to make people believe she's dead. You must've known that, especially having listened to people telling you about last year's events. 

So, Wednesday thinks about what this bet is about. 

"If I make the bets, I can tell you now that I'm winning either way."

And regardless of the results of the bet, you'd get a kiss.

Wednesday swallows, feeling something strange happen to her by just your words. 

It's the kind of revelation that feels emotionally charged. It's a build-up of all the time she has spent with you and pathetically pined after you. 

Wednesday is a very competitive person. She detests losing. It brings pity, rage, and self-disgust.

Yet, because it's you, there's an underlying spark of trust in defeat. 

Wednesday Addams didn't mind losing to you.

Licking her lips, Wednesday moves her hand, grabbing the edge of your shirt at your stomach to anchor herself. She tugs, pulling you closer, and presses her lips against yours.

PART 8