#to complete the team 👉🏻👈🏻

[puck-luck]

Forever yearning for a jealous, dominant Luke Hughes. I mean spitting in your mouth, edging, mirror sex, etc. I need the filthy, down bad luke.

Scenario: maybe you’re becoming close with one of the other players (completely innocent-just forming a friendship) but Luke doesn’t see it as that way…

👉🏻👈🏻

warnings (in no particular order): spit(!!), jealousy, dom!luke, edging, mirror sex, one (1!) slap to the face just for the enjoyment of my friend jo, spanking, drinking (technically underage hiii luke turn 21 already stop being lame), beating yourself up, pet names and nicknames as FUCK (always bro do y’all even know me), road head, face fucking, unprotected p in v, dare i say breeding kink, implied subspace, allusion to size kink (probably established size kink to be fair), I THINK THAT’S IT BUT I’M NOT SURE! pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader summary: the one when luke gets jealous at the bar and doles out a bit of a punishment (code: luke is insecure about his performance on the ice, so when his gf starts talking with another teammate who is her friend, he gets jealous and feels like he has to prove himself by making her feel good, but he’s still a dom bc HOTTTT) wc: 6416

The Devils’ last game of the season was at home this year. There was no chance that they would make the playoffs and Jack was out in Colorado for his shoulder surgery, plus Luke’s parents weren’t able to make it from Michigan for his final rookie game. He was depending on you to be there, so there you were. You were cheering, you were yelling at the officials when they missed a call, you were laughing at Luke when he took a trademarked Hughes spill on the ice with barely anyone around him. Yeah, you were disappointed at the end of the game when the Islanders won (and it wasn’t even close), but it was just one game. It wasn’t the end of the world. It was a disappointment, but it wasn’t life-changing.

Luke, however, was much more upset with their performance when you met up with him after the game. He drove the two of you to the bar where the team was meeting for one last celebration before the off-season and he tried, he really did, to keep his complaints inside. He was stewing, just letting it well up inside of him and fester in the silence between you, until it spilled over.

“It should have been a better game,” Luke finally said, the harsh edge in his tone rubbing you in all the wrong ways. “We could’ve done more. If I had just–”

“Lu, baby,” you interrupted, voice soft. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I was out there the longest, other than Jake,” Luke argued. “They depend on me and I let them down.”

“You were only on the ice for one goal, Lu. You couldn’t have done anything about at least the other three.”

Your statement was not something he wanted to hear. Your boyfriend, sweet as he was, always saw the best in everyone else and the worst in himself. Where he could have been blaming Brendan for the loss, since Brendan was on the ice for three of the four goals, he was instead blaming himself. He was never one to hold a grudge against his teammates or his friends or his family, which was part of the reason why you were so in love with him.

He grunted instead of giving you a real response, but you knew it was coming from a place of knowing you’re right but still feeling hurt.

“I love you,” you told him, just a reminder that his performance would never affect your affection towards him. 

“I love you too,” Luke replied, and you two fell back into silence. It was less tense this time, but his shoulders were still tense and he was frowning, almost pouting. He was so pretty, even now, but you hated how this expression marred his face.

When you pulled up to the bar, you were met by Luke’s teammates. While some of the men had gone home after the game, it was mostly the ones who had families. You knew their wives and girlfriends would have encouraged them to go out with the team rather than stay home with the kids, but you understood. If Luke had wanted to go straight home after the game, you would’ve gone with him and cuddled him until you fell asleep.

“Do you want to get out and get me a drink, baby, while I find parking?” Luke asked, always so considerate. 

“Yeah,” you agreed easily, leaning over the center console to peck his lips before you left the car. 

Waiting outside the entrance of the bar, Nico and John smiled as you got out of the car and walked over to them. You hugged each of them before entering the bar, Nico walking in ahead of you and John following you with a hand on your back. 

It didn’t mean anything to you or to John, but when Luke watched John guide you into the bar before he drove away to search for a parking spot, something sharp and green poked at his heart.

Luke finally made his way into the bar about ten minutes after you walked in, and your face had lit up when you saw him like it had been much longer. He didn’t see you at first, so you had the chance to watch him scan the room. His brow was furrowed as he scanned each person’s features. You knew that he was trying to spot you without looking for the other boys at first, but it was proving difficult with how crowded the room had become.

Timo appeared at his side and patted Luke’s shoulder in greeting. Luke talked to him for a minute before Timo pointed your way. Luke’s face split with a smile when he saw you and he gave Timo a pat before beelining towards you.

You looped your arms around Luke’s neck when he joined you, leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss him.

“Gross,” Nico complained from next to you. “It’s only been a few minutes since you’ve seen each other.”

“You’re not in love,” Luke replied, snarky and sarcastic like he tended to be when it wasn’t just the two of you. He then turned to you. “Where’s my drink?”

“What a priority,” you teased, rolling your eyes at him. He pinched your side. “I sent Johnny to go get it.”

Luke’s expression changed for a split second before he schooled his features. You wouldn’t have noticed it if you weren’t so in tune with his emotions, experience that comes only after years of dating a person. 

You let it go, knowing that it can’t be too important, or Luke would have said something. He knew you were friends with guys on the team. After being around them for almost a year, having moved out here with Luke at the start of his rookie year, it was bound to happen. Plus, Luke wasn’t the jealous type. He knew that you loved him and you’d love him forever, saying yes in a second if he chose to propose.

But to him, there was something about the way you said “Johnny” instead of John. It was that and John’s hand on your back as he guided you into the bar, on top of an already hard night, that had Luke questioning himself.

“I asked him to get you a rum and coke,” you said, tilting your head up to poke Luke’s nose with your own. “Is that okay?”

“It sounds good, thank you,” Luke replied. 

You resume conversation with Nico, turning to face him but staying tucked into Luke’s side. He had a hand on your hip and the other accepted the drink that John handed Luke when he returned. He nursed it quietly for a while, engaging in conversation here and there, but mostly just enjoying his time with his friends. 

The game was the last time that his whole team would be together like that, but this night out was the last time that his team, his friends, would be together in the way that mattered. Even if no one was traded, if no one changed in the slightest (except Jack, coming back from injury), things still wouldn’t be quite the same. It wouldn’t be his second year, his presence wouldn’t be new or exciting. He would have to try harder, do better, and be consistent to show that he wasn’t just an example of beginner’s luck.

He clutched you a little tighter to his side at that thought. He was comforted by the way that you melted into him, moving to lean back against his chest. Your hand covered his and the other polished off your drink. He took the empty cup from you and kissed your cheek before pulling away to toss your cup, and his, in the trash can behind him.

When he returned, he was taken aback by the sight before him.

You had stepped forward and were carding your fingers through John’s curls and Luke saw red before he saw the thoughtful look on your face. John had just said to you and Nico that he thought his hair was getting too long, too unruly. You didn’t agree– it was a good length, the curls were just settling into their shapes.

“I don’t think you should cut it, John,” you were saying before Luke grabbed your other wrist and yanked you towards him. “Luke!” You exclaimed, startled by the movement.

“Time to go,” Luke announced, loud enough that the other boys could hear. He clutched your wrist, not your hand, your wrist, and pulled you along as he stomped toward the exit.

“Luke, what is going on?” You asked, voice resounding in your ears like it’s much louder than it actually is. 

Luke kept walking like he didn’t even hear you, pushing through the door and leading you down the block to the car. He opened your door for you and helped you in, but he slammed it shut once you were buckled into your seat. He rounded the car and opened his own door, glaring at you in a passing glance before settling into the driver’s seat.

“Lu,” you implored, pressing your hands against the top of your thighs. 

When he didn’t reply, you tried again.

“Babe, talk to me–”

“I don’t want you to speak unless you’re spoken to,” Luke said. He refused to look at you. “You think you can touch John’s hair the way you touch mine? You’ll let him guide you into the bar the way I would? I’m not enough for you, huh, baby?”

You blinked, suddenly shifting up to sit a little straighter. Luke, your sweet angel Luke, the baby of his family who would never hurt a fly, who avoided hockey fights at every cost, had flipped his switch.

“Answer me. I asked you a question.”

“No, sir,” you said. Your eyes flickered down to where Luke’s knuckles were white with how hard he was gripping the steering wheel. You inhaled sharply as you made eye contact with the veins decorating the back of his hand.

“No?” Luke repeated, mocking. “I’m not enough for you?”

“No! Lu, you’re more than enough, you know you’re the only one I need.” Your words came out scrambled and you tripped over them. 

Luke clicked his tongue, disapproval written all over his face. “Can’t even speak, can you?” He scoffed, reached down with one hand, and popped the button on his jeans. “Let’s put your mouth to a better use until you can find your words.”

“You’re driving,” you pointed out, casting a worried look at the road ahead of you.

“It wasn’t a question,” Luke threw you a glance. He looked back at the road, then back to you, this time holding your gaze. He cocked his head to the side, eyes softening for a moment. “Was it?”

“No,” you breathed out. 

“Good girl.” A smile spread over Luke’s face and he turned back to the road. “Get to it.”

You clenched your thighs together and unbuckled your seatbelt so you could twist towards Luke and lean over the center console. You reached out to unzip his pants, but he knocked your hands away.

“I didn’t say use your hand. I said,” he paused, grabbing your hair and tilting your head up so your eyes met his, “Use your mouth.”

The noise that escaped you was involuntary. You moved forward that extra inch and carefully took Luke’s zipper in your mouth, dragging it down. His boxers were revealed by the action, but that was the extent of it. 

“Come on,” Luke encouraged, growing impatient. What you couldn’t see from your position was the smug tilt of his mouth, knowing there was no way to get his cock out of his pants with just your mouth. “Take it out.”

“Can’t,” you whimpered.

“Oh, you can’t?” Luke mocked, feigning sympathy. “Poor baby needs my help, yeah?”

You nodded and hummed an agreement.

Luke’s grip tightened on your hair and he gave it a sharp tug. “Use your manners.”

“Please, Lu, help me,” you conceded.

“Help you what?”

“Help me take your cock out so I can suck you, please, sir.” Your voice was close to breaking, you were itching to get your mouth on him and make him feel good. 

Luke obliged, revealing himself to you. You opened your mouth and he pumped himself twice just to tease you before slapping the lip of his cock on the flat of your tongue. He fed you his cock, returning his hand to your hair when you had taken as much of his length in your mouth as you could. He gathered your hair into a messy ponytail with his one hand, the other still on the wheel, and began to guide your head up and down. 

You gagged when he guided you to his base, nose touching the fabric of his boxers around his cock, but the groan he let out made the discomfort worth it. It was low and desperate, just pure relief.

“Wanna fuck your mouth,” Luke breathed out, pulling you up so just the tip of his cock remained in your mouth. 

You hollowed your cheeks and sucked, swiping your tongue over his slit and relishing in the taste of his precum in your mouth. 

He moaned aloud, the sound seeming to echo throughout the car. You could feel your heartbeat in your fingertips. You let out a sigh, suddenly overwhelmed with contentment for your situation. Luke was perfect. He was the perfect boyfriend, whether he was his soft and cuddly self or this dominant version of him that wasn’t afraid to tell you what to do, to communicate what he wanted. 

“Would if I weren’t driving, too,” Luke mumbled, mostly to himself. “Fuck, baby, make me come. You know how.”

Luke returned both hands to the steering wheel and allowed you to move your head freely, to go at your own pace. You bobbed your head with enthusiasm, spit dripping down his shaft and soaking the fabric around him. You gagged at times, but the tight squeeze of your throat around him just added to Luke’s pleasure. He wasn’t shy about telling you how good you felt, either, making you more determined to make him come.

“Fuck, pull off,” Luke said, his voice a little shaky.

You couldn’t. You couldn’t, not when he was so close. The idea of having his come in your mouth, on your tongue, the manifestation of how you made him feel, was too alluring. 

“Y/N, pull off,” Luke commanded, reaching down to yank you off of him by your hair. He clenched his jaw as he held you just far enough off his cock that you thought, with just one bump in the road, you could capture it again. He steered out of the lane and parked on the side of the road. “You don’t want to listen? You’re so cockdumb that you can’t follow my orders?”

All you could do was look at him, eyes wide. 

He spoke through his teeth, never once blinking or breaking eye contact. “Since you want me inside you so bad, I’m gonna fuck your mouth until I come. You’re gonna take it. Even if you gag, even if you cry, I’m not going to stop until I come. Then, you’re going to sit back and buckle yourself in and I’m going to finish driving us home. You will not swallow. You’re going to hold my come in your mouth until I say so. Do you understand?”

Your jaw dropped at the words, the tips of your ears growing hot. “Yes, sir.” It’s nearly inaudible and you can feel your panties growing damper with just the thought of it– minute after minute ticking by, Luke’s come coating your tongue, not being able to speak or swallow. You’re completely under Luke’s control.  

He leaned back in the seat and motioned toward his cock. 

You allowed him to guide you onto his length again, getting comfortable with its size. You hollowed your cheeks and looked up at him, pausing your movements and staying statue-still.

A smirk took over Luke’s face. “That’s my girl.”

He took your head with both hands, keeping your hair out of your face and keeping you from moving an inch, and began to thrust into your mouth. It was sharp and hard and you tried to create a vacuum-type suction around his cock, as tight as you knew he liked it, but it was hard with the head of his dick hitting the back of your throat with every buck of his hips. You ended up gagging, and crying, and drooling all over his cock, just like Luke had said, and he fulfilled his promise that he wouldn’t stop.

“Look at you, making such a mess of yourself,” Luke scoffed. “Such a mess all over my cock, just to make me feel good. You’d let me do whatever I wanted, wouldn’t you, baby? You’d never let anyone else take you like this, just me, yeah? No one else gets to see you just leaking all over my cock because you’re mine.”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at that and the moan you released around Luke’s length caused his hips to stutter, made him unable to hold back his orgasm any longer. He came in stripes all over your tongue, some of it leaking down the back of your throat before you could stop it. He pulled you off of him and crashed his lips against yours, a close-mouthed kiss because you wouldn’t dare disobey, couldn’t handle the idea of disappointing Luke.

“My good girl,” Luke cooed when he pulled away.

You offered him a lazy smile, head foggy and bones mushy. You were sated, an elevated version of just happy, and so, so comfortable. You loved him. He was everything.

“I’m not done with you yet, am I?” Luke asked softly, thumbing over your bottom lip. 

You shook your head.

“Open,” Luke said. “I want to see my come on your tongue.”

You hesitantly opened your mouth, pushing your tongue out so he could see the milky white substance coating the muscle. 

Luke captured your cheeks with one hand and leaned in with the other holding your head in place. You stared at his eyes, which were watching your tongue as a line of his saliva mixed with the come in your mouth. When his eyes rose to meet yours, it was the embers of desire that made your head roll back and the instinct, the pure instinct of having something in your mouth, that caused you to swallow.

Your head snapped forward, eyes wide and not doe-eyed, not purposefully innocent to make Luke’s heart jump. No, your eyes were wide with worry because you disobeyed him. It wasn’t something you did to spite him or push him further over the line. 

“I’m sorry.” The words leaked from your mouth and you scrambled to take Luke’s hand in yours, clutching his right with both of yours. “Luke, it was an accident, you know I’d never–”

His mouth was open in shock, briefly, before it snapped shut and his eyes twinkled with something downright predatory. His hand was limp in yours (though not pulling away) and he was still.

“But you did,” He interrupted. “You did.”

“I didn’t mean to.” You were trying to reason with him, but you knew the damage was done. Whatever he had planned for you when you got back to the house, it was going to be ten times worse now.

Luke just shook his head and removed his hand from your grasp, pulling back onto the highway and resuming the drive home. You weren’t far, the area around you looking more and more familiar with each passing second. The minutes stretched for what seemed like hours with Luke’s silence. You held your own hand nervously, pinching at the skin of you knuckles and avoiding Luke’s face. You couldn’t handle seeing the disappointment etched into his features.

Luke pulled into the garage of the apartment complex after just about five minutes. Suddenly, it hits you– you have the apartment all to yourselves tonight. There’s nothing to stop Luke, or you for that matter, from being as loud or as public as he wants. There’s a window in the living room, one that Luke mentioned after your last session. A spark traveled up your spine when you realize that tonight might be the night that he fucks you out in the open, for anyone to see.

When he shifted the car into park, Luke turned to you expectantly.

You apologized again, softly, once he looked at you.

His features softened then, seeing your apprehension. He reached out and took your hand. “Are you okay?”

“I feel bad that I didn’t listen,” you replied. Your eyes fell on your shoelaces, which were an off-white color after plenty of use. You made a note to yourself that maybe you should wash them soon. You wondered if they’d return to their original color. The shoes were much more interesting than looking up at Luke and meeting his eyes.

He tilted your head upward with a guided hand anyway. “You’re still my good girl,” he reassured. “Are you okay to keep going? Or do you want me to stop? I won’t be mad. Whatever you want, we can do it. We can leave this in the car and I can take care of you, baby.”

You could cry at his words, how great he is about your slip-up. You did want him to be sweet, but you knew that he needed this. He needed to work through whatever was going on in his mind and if he could just be in control of this, just for a little while longer, it would be so much easier for him later.

“I want to keep going,” you admitted.

“You know your word?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Tell me?”

“Flower.”

“That’s right, baby.” Luke pecked your lips, but when he pulled back he was back to business. “Now, are you ready to listen to me?”

You nodded, eyes trained on his. Neither of you blinked, a silent contest that he ended up losing (something that would normally cause you to gloat, but now doesn’t seem like the right time).

“When you get to the apartment, you’re going to strip. You’re going to sit on the edge of our bed. You’re going to touch yourself while you wait for me and I want you to watch yourself in the mirror. If you come, and you know I’ll know if you do, you’re not going to come at all tonight. I want you to bring yourself right to the edge and stay there. Can you do that for me?” He spoke slowly and clearly, his voice gravely and dominant. He didn’t stumble over his words or pause and “um” like he did in interviews. No, this was when Luke was at his surest. This was when he knew exactly what to do, exactly what to say.

“I can do that,” you agreed, unbuckling your seatbelt and gathering your things.

“I’m going to give you a five minute head start.”

You nodded at Luke, opened your door, and left the vehicle. When you got up to the apartment, you didn’t bother to hang your coat or purse on the hooks Luke put up just for you. You didn’t put your shoes neatly like the door like you normally did. Instead, you dropped your belongings and kicked the shoes off one by one on your walk to the bedroom. You shed your clothing in a similar manner, leaving a trail behind for Luke to chuckle at when he walked in the door. 

Fully naked, you stared at yourself in the mirror that faced your bed. You read once that it was bad luck to have a mirror face a bed, that your reflection could like… capture your soul, or something, but you kept the mirror there anyway because if there was anything Luke enjoyed, it was seeing himself fuck you in the mirror. He liked to watch you ride him in reverse cowgirl, so he could see your ass jiggle as you bounced on his cock with his own eyes and your whole body in the reflection. 

Sometimes, his hands would drift up and he would hold your tits, watching how he could envelop them in his palms. You tilt your head to the side, watching your own hands slide up your body to do the same. 

For everything you could imagine Luke doing, there your hands were trying to satisfy yourself. If you closed your eyes, you could convince yourself that it was him instead.

His cock would disappear into your pussy, thrusting in and out and causing you to whine. His fingers would circle your clit or pinch your nipples. He would palm your ass, or reach up to wrap his hand around your neck. He would reach just that spot…

You didn’t ever hear it when Luke opened the door and joined you in the room. He thought you knew he was coming, with the way you were whining his name and begging for him. Your eyes snapped open as he closed the door behind him and you quickly pulled your fingers out from inside of you.

Luke walked over to you and sank onto his knees between your legs. “Gimme a taste, love.”

You offered him your fingers, which he took into his mouth. He sucked on them softly for far too short a time, in your opinion, with the way his cheekbones became more prominent as he cleaned your fingers of your wetness.

“Tastes good,” he told you with a smile when he was finished. 

“Thank you,” you replied, practically a whimper. Your chest felt tight, like someone was squeezing your heart in your chest. You were waiting, just waiting, for Luke to tell you what was next.

He rose to sit on the bed next to you, guiding you to shift over so you were sitting on his lap. “I’m going to spank you,” he whispered against your lips. “Just ten times. That’s all. It’ll go fast, but I’m not going to go easy on you. I know you can take it.” Luke kissed you again, snuck his tongue into your mouth for a quick, far too quick pass, before pulling back. “Turn over, baby, and lean over my knee, yeah?”

Your movements were slow, your brain turning foggy again like it was in the car. Luke helped you over his knee, still clothed. The contrast between how clothed he was and how naked you were almost made you drool. It was nearly embarrassing, being this down bad for Luke when he seemed to be completely fine, unaffected.

Luke snapped you out of your thoughts with a spank. The pain was only there for a split second before Luke was rubbing soothing circles over your skin. You shivered when he dipped his hand lower and trailed a finger through your folds.

“So wet,” he murmured.

You clenched down and he pulled away, only to deliver a second slap to your cheek. You shivered, goosebumps rising over your arms.

“So, baby, tell me,” Luke began, bringing down his hand again. “Why am I spanking you?” He waited for you to answer before bringing his hand down again. “Because I swallowed– oh– when you told me not to.”

“Mhm. Why else?”

Another spank. Now, it was starting to sting. Your ass had turned a pretty shade of pink that caused Luke to bite his lip and run his hands over your skin, feeling the heat radiate off the surface.

You were quiet. You weren’t quite sure. Holding his come in your mouth had been the punishment for not pulling off when he told you to. You had been slow to say please in the car, but that wasn’t ever something Luke would punish you for, just something he’d remind you to do. “For, um…” You trailed off, not sure what to say.

Luke scoffed and spanked you three times, harsh enough that his handprint stayed imprinted on your body for longer than it normally did when he spanked you. You cried out, your head dropping and tears welling up in your eyes. 

“‘For, um,’” he mocked. “You don’t know? You’re that fucking dumb that you can’t remember what happened less than an hour ago?”

“Lu, please,” were the words that escaped your mouth instead of an answer to his question. They were teary and he almost stopped, almost, just because of how your voice shook. 

“Please what?” He spat, another slap echoing throughout the room. 

“I don’t know,” You sobbed. “I don’t know why you’re mad at me.”

“Five more,” Luke warned you and you nodded. 

It took a lot out of you, agreeing for five more, but Luke wouldn’t do anything he didn’t think you could handle.

“How about this, baby?” Luke said. Slap. “For touching John’s hair the same way you touch mine?” Slap. “For letting the boys guide you into the restaurant like you’re their girlfriend, not mine.” Slap. “For sending John off to get me a drink when I told you to do so?” Slap. “For not listening?” Slap. “For being a fucking brat?”

You wailed, slumped against Luke. He got a good look at you in the mirror, boneless over his knee. He took in the red skin of your ass, tracing the line of his raised handprint. 

“You’re mine,” Luke continued, sounding off. You turned your head towards the mirror, eyes hazy but still able to make him out. He was waiting for you to look at him, for your eyes to meet his. “You can’t– you can’t treat him like he’s special.”

And suddenly, it all clicked. Luke was jealous because he was scared of the same thing you’d skated around in your conversation right after the game. Luke wanted to be special, wanted you to see him and need him. He needed you to need him, to let him take control and take care of you and decide things for you, all because he didn’t want to be the person who lost everything because he wasn’t good enough. Even the idea that John could possibly take Luke’s place, as preposterous as it was to you, sent Luke into a spiral.

“Fuck me, Luke,” you said, voice shaky and light because of the headspace you were in. “Take me. I’m yours. Prove it.”

Gently, so gently in contrast to his prior actions, Luke helped you up and lay you down on your back on the bed, placing a pillow under your hips. You lay there for a few minutes, blinking slowly and watching as Luke shed his clothes and rummaged through his dresser drawers for something. His back was to you and you smiled to yourself, too fucked out to let out a giggle, at his backside. When Luke turned around, two of his gameday ties in hand, he cocked his head to the side at your smile.

“What are you smiling about?” He asked.

“Boy butts are so funny,” You answered. “They’re just so small. Like… where are your hips, Lu?”

Luke blinked a few times, then shook his head. “Oh my God, you’ve lost it.”

“I’ve been thinking it. We need to get you in the gym.”

“You’re being a brat.”

“And your butt is small.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Luke scoffed. He had walked to the bed and was tying one of your hands to his headboard.

“I’m waiting.”

Luke huffed out a laugh at your response. “You’re making it hard to dom you, baby.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, was the road head not enough?”

Luke shushed you, moving to your other hand and tying that one with the other tie.

“What about the spitting in my mouth and spanking me?” You continue, goading him. 

Luke crawled up your body, kissing up your stomach and chest and neck as he went. 

One more sentence, and he wouldn’t find it so difficult to dominate you for this final stretch. 

He’s hovering over your lips, his breath fanning out over them.

“I bet Johnny could do it better.”

Luke pulled back, jaw dropped. His mouth returned to a strait line and his eyes turned murderous. There it was, there’s the dominance that he thought he lost.

 You smirked at him, proud of yourself for the comment you made, until Luke’s palm made contact with your cheek. Your head turned with the impact and you swore your heart stopped. You were too surprised to say anything. As the seconds of silence passed where you and Luke just stared at each other, same shocked expression on your face, you realized: huh. That’s not so different from when he spanks me.

Then, another second after that: That was kind of… hot.

“Are you okay?” Luke breathed out. He’s practically frozen in place.

“Yeah,” you replied. “Oh my God, Luke, yeah.” You pulled on the restraints above you, itching to get him inside of you. You circled your legs around his waist and raised your hips, trying to make contact with him. “Fuck, Lu, that was so hot, please fuck me.”

Luke blinked twice and searched your face for any discomfort, anything that would show him that you were upset or hurt by his slap. He hadn’t even done it intentionally, just driven by the pure rage of you mentioning John, saying that John could be better for you than Luke was.

It wasn’t until your wiggling hips caused his cock to make contact with your weeping pussy that he began to move.

He started by pinning your hips down.

“Greedy,” he chastised. 

“I need you in me, don’t treat me like I’m made of glass,” you whined.

Luke positioned himself at your entrance and snapped his hips forward, burying himself inside you in one fell swoop.

It knocked all the breath out of you. Even after dating Luke for ages, his size still surprised you.

“How’s that, huh? Can you feel me? Do you think I’m treating you gently?” Luke asked, grinding his teeth as he fucked in and out of you. His skin was slapping against yours and he moved one of our legs so your knee was thrown over his shoulder. “You think Marino could fuck you like this?” He practically spat out John’s name, disgust coating each syllable.

“Probably,” you quipped, your voice snarky. You were itching for Luke to slap you again, or something, because he wasn’t giving it everything. He was still shaken up by the fact that he hit you at all.

“‘Probably,’” He repeated, incredulous. “You’ll never know, will you, baby?” He snaps his hips harder, faster. “This is my pussy. It only gets wet for me, you only spread your legs for me, you can be a slut all you want but only in the confines of these four walls. You can be bad, only right here… where I’m able to fuck. it. out. of you.”

You moan, wanton and long in the back of your throat. Your hands are aching to grab his hair, to twist the curls between your fingers. “Lu, my hand,” you told him.

“What about it?” He asked, not slowing his pace.

“Untie it, please!”

Luke looked down at you, confused. “Why?”

You whined, keening as your back arched and you squeezed his cock. “Need to get a hand on you, Lu, fuck. Wanna pull your hair. So pretty, so much prettier than John’s.”

“Oh,” he whispered, his stomach turning. He reached up to undo the knot, trying to continue to fuck you and untie it at the same time. When your hand came free, it immediately found purchase in his curls. Your fingernails scraped his scalp and his eyes rolled in the back of his head as he bucked into you with uncoordinated thrusts. “Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned. “Gonna make me come.”

“Please,” you begged. “Inside me, inside me–”

Your vision went white and your pussy was like a vice around him as you came.

“Yeah, yeah,” Luke agreed, voice strained. He watched the bliss wash over your features and whined. “Fuck you til you’re full, show everyone you’re all mine.” 

It’s the thought of pumping his seed into you, making you round with his child, that sends Luke over the edge. No one would think to take you from him then, not that you’d ever go. No one would ever be able to call you theirs like he could call you his, not when he’s fucked you full, not when you’re carrying his baby.

“So perfect for me,” Luke mumbled in your ear, collapsing on top of you as he came down from his orgasm. 

“Just for you, Lu.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You paused, rubbing his back. “You know we have to talk about this, right? You’re more than enough and I don’t want you to feel insecure anymore.”

Luke pulled himself out of you, wincing at the sensitivity. “Can we talk about it tomorrow? I think we could both use some rest.”

He got up from the bed and walked into his bathroom, grabbing a towel and coming back to wipe you clean. 

“Can it wait that long?” You fixed him with a look of concern.

“Baby.” Luke cut his eyes at you, then finished wiping you down. “It can wait until tomorrow.”

You shrugged. “Okay,” you agreed, then made yourself comfortable, pulling the covers over your body. You turned over, back to Luke, and spoke like it was an afterthought. “I loved it when you slapped me, you know.”

Luke groaned, leaned over to give you a kiss on your cheek. “I’m sorry I was mean.”

“Mmm, mean Luke gets me hot just like sweet Luke,” you replied. You turned your head and kissed his lips. “I like sweet Luke more, though. Sweet Luke cuddles me while I’m asleep.”

Luke laughed, going to toss the dirty towel in the dirty clothes hamper. “Sweet Luke will be back to cuddle you after he brushes his teeth,” he said.

When he returned, your breath was even and you had already fallen asleep, the ghost of a smile still gracing your lips. Luke bit his tongue, joined you under the covers, and threw his arm over the curve of your waist. Within just a few minutes, he was fast asleep next to you, softly snoring with his nose pressed into your hair.

notes: so, I, uh..... got a little carried away. I just kept having ideas. And I hope it worked out for me, to be fair. Hiiiiiii anon I hope this was good for youuuu love you bigggg I felt so awky-tawky writing some of this because as much as I would looooove a man to treat me like this, it feels so silly to write. Anyway. Loving y'all.

SEND MORE REQUESTS! I'LL GET TO THEM EVENTUALLY (they might not all be this long LOLLL)

[show-your-fangs]

lil request of some jealous hotch maybe👉🏻👈🏻 i’m kinda picturing moments aaron getting all jealous and taking the matter in his own hands and teaching reader a lesson🫣😫

this is so fucking good, and coincidentally will be chapter 28 of moments 👀 (it involves a toy, a bed, and a few hours)

so instead please enjoy secret relationship hotch becoming jealous of his baby being hit on by some dude at a bar while the team is out, and then proceeding to finger her under the table

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU!Reader

Words: 1.8k

CW: 18+, nsfw, mdni.

Tags/warnings: established secret relationship, jealous!hotch, possessiveness, pet names (baby, good girl), sir kink, groping, teasing, dirty talk, fingering (f receiving), exhibitionist kink, public sex, aaron basically fingers you in a booth in a bar.

Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.

Aaron had never been more thankful for the low light of Shaw’s, thankful that the shadows that lingered all around them obscuring his hot, red ears from the agents around him. He wasn’t embarrassed by any means, no, he was livid. 

They were all staring and snickering about you, leaning over the bar as you waited for the drinks they’d all made you go get just so that you’d be forced to talk to the cute guy that had been making eyes at you all night. 

When you’d told them that you hadn’t noticed, they all scoffed and rolled their eyes, telling you that was the reason you were still single. But none of them knew, they couldn’t have, that the reason why you hadn’t seen him staring was because you only cared about one man’s eyes on you – your boss's.

He was rendered completely useless, unable to do anything about him, unable to leap to his feet, stalk across the bar and make him stop talking to you, before swiftly dragging you to the bathroom and fucking you silly until the only thing you could think about was his cock. 

He knew you weren’t doing it maliciously. There wasn’t a single bad bone in your body. It wasn’t your fault that he found you attractive, wasn’t your fault that Emily was determined to get you laid, wasn’t your fault that you were making him so unbelievably jealous that he couldn’t think straight. 

He almost let out a sigh of relief when the bartender slid five drinks on the counter in front of you and you skillfully grabbed all of them in your hands before quickly making your way back to their table. 

“So?” Emily asked the second you put the drinks down, everyone reaching out to grab their glass and the scoop of your flirting.

You shook your head. “Eh, not for me.”

You slid in next to Aaron, uncharacteristically so, and yet it didn’t seem anyone noticed, still too focused on you to notice how Aaron’s body had relaxed beside you. 

“That’s not for you?” Emily shockingly pointed back at the blonde guy at the bar who was now engrossed in conversation with another beautiful woman. 

“Nope,” you simply stated, not giving her anything to continue prying. She scoffed then, unbelieving. 

“Can we go dance now?” Penelope whined again and Morgan immediately began pushing Emily out of the booth so they could get out. 

You took a sip of your drink as you watched them scurry towards the other side of the bar, hand in hand, but not before they dragged Emily and JJ along for the ride. It was just the six of you now, Spencer having left earlier in the night and Rossi not even entertaining the possibility of getting wasted with you on a perfectly fine Friday night. 

“Have fun,” you joked, Emily poking her tongue out at you and you returned the gesture. “Get her to relax a little and leave me alone, JJ!”

Aaron took a swing of the cold beer he’d been nursing since you got here an hour ago, trying to play it as cool as he could, disinterest being what would maintain your relationship private, until you were finally alone.  

He set the glass back down on the table before his hand came down on your thigh, slapping it slightly, the coldness of his hand mixing with the sting on his action. Your gaze snapped to his, shocked, scared, ashamed, while his remained dark, glossy, enraged.

He was jealous, so unbelievably jealous he couldn’t even hide it. Your breathing picked up, your heart practically rattling against your chest, your mouth going dry with anticipation.

“Just out of curiosity,” he whispered, slowly running his hand up towards your heat. “What is your type?”

You slumped back in your seat, back pressed tightly against the plush cushions of the booth, acutely aware of where you were and the fact that your closest friends were dancing just behind you. 

Thankfully you were hidden away, obscured, but there were still a lot of people around, a lot of bodies that could turn to you at any moment. 

“I asked you a question, baby,” he snapped, grip tightening unbelievably close to where you needed him. 

“You,” you swallowed thickly. “You, sir.”

The pockets of haziness, of blurred lines and dark corners were finally working to his advantage as he draped your left leg over his lap, opening you up under the table to gain easier access. 

You couldn’t help but dart your eyes around the room once more, desperate to make sure that no one could see you like this.

“Don’t look at them, look at me,” he commanded and you swiftly obeyed, turning your hazy eyes back on his, the fire burning in them almost mesmerizing, holding you hostage. His hand slid off your leg, swiftly cupping your crotch tightly. “This belongs to me,” he squeezed. “You belong to me,” your eyes were glossy with tears now. “No one gets to touch you, ever, no one gets to flirt with you, no one gets to so much as look at you, do I make myself clear?”

You whimpered pathetically, nodding your head feverishly, and yet it only made him squeeze harder, bordering on painful. Your brows furrowed, confusion at his continued roughness making a single tear fall down your cheek.  

“Apparently I wasn’t clear enough,” he spat, his fingers skillfully pulling your panties to the side. His cold fingers were immediately met with wet warmth, your clit practically on fire as he began to tease it, never touching it long enough for you to feel anything other than frustration.

“No, sir, please,” you sobbed, your hand wrapping around his wrist, but instead of trying to force him off you, you tried to get him to touch you where you wanted him.

“No?” he repeated, incredulous. “You’re not mine?”

His movements stilled then and yet you continued to grind yourself against his palm, against his fingers, against him. Whatever shame, whatever fears you had about getting caught, about someone seeing him touch you seemed to have evaporated as the desire to finally come undone took over.

“Such a greedy girl,” he groaned in your ear. “Even when you’ve been bad and I’m trying to punish you, you still have one thing on your mind.”

His other arm wrapped around your waist, his hand tightly gripping your left hip to pin you back down to the seat and keep you there, unable to move yourself where you desperately needed.

It was like a spell lifted then, your face immediately flushing crimson as you were reminded of where you were and just how exposed you truly were, even in the low light. Your head fell into the crook of his neck, face buried into his shirt in shame. 

Your shame only spurred him on, his movements picking up once more, his fingers running along the entirety of your slit, collecting your slick, making sure to never touch your entrance or clit.

“Next time a guy comes up to you, what are you going to say?” he asked, bitter, condescending, mean. 

You couldn’t breathe much less think about what you wanted to answer, too concerned by trying to act as normal as possible. 

He landed a slap against your clit then, perfectly timed with the music around you, the instrument solo drowning out the sharp sound. You moaned, quickly biting into his suit jacket to further muffle the lewd noises spilling out your mouth. 

He gave you a second to allow the shock to sharpen your senses, his fingers returning to their previous movements casually as he scanned the room, making sure you hadn’t drawn any attention to yourselves. 

“Next time a guy comes up to me,” you managed through ragged breaths, bravely lifting your head so your gaze could meet his. “I’ll tell him I’m not interested.”

“Next time some guy comes up to you,” he seethed in your ear, low and terrifying. “You’re going to tell them your boyfriend doesn’t like to share,” he emphasized his words by finally sinking his fingers into you, coaxing a whimper from your throat. “And they should probably leave you alone before he comes back.”

He curled his fingers upwards, hooking them against the spot deep inside you that always made you come undone in seconds.

“Yes, sir,” you smiled brightly, the fact that he’d called himself your boyfriend fully processing through your fucked out brain. 

“Good girl,” and with that he let loose, his fingers thrashing inside you, not even building up to his big finale by sliding them in and out of you first. 

You held his stare, your mouth opening for silent moans, for restrained whimpers, for jagged breathing. He didn’t stop, couldn’t stop as the song your teammates had all been dancing too was quickly coming to a close. 

Your hands wrapped around his shirt, bunching it up and wrinkling it. That’s how he knew you were close. His thumb returned to your clit, rubbing fast circles over it. Your walls began to clench around him, your hips began to sink themselves farther into his hand. 

“Cum, baby,” he whispered into your ear, soft yet commanding.

It all came at you too quickly, the tension in your body snapping sharply and out of nowhere. Wetness dripped out of you and onto his hand as your body shook against his steady frame. His grip around your waist tightened slightly, bringing your body against him to help keep you stable.

He looked back at his subordinates still twirling around to the final chorus of the song, distracted enough for him to chance it. He leaned forward and placed a delicate kiss to your temple, slowly retracting his fingers from you as he reached over to grab a napkin. 

Even in the low light, in the darkness, he could see his hand glisten with your slick and a proud smirk enveloped his lips. You were still curled against him as he did his best to clean you up, to get rid of any evidence of what the two of you had just done. 

He bunched the napkins up, swiftly pocketing them before he set you back down on the seat, a respectable distance away from him, and wiped your face clean of your runny mascara. Almost as if he’d timed it perfectly, four bodies approached your table. 

“Are you okay, sweetness?” Morgan asked you as they returned to the table, definitely noticing your flushed face.

You nodded, not daring to make eye contact as your heart continued to race, the aftershock of your orgasm still rocking through you.

“I think she’s had too much to drink,” Aaron told him, concerned softness lacing his words, like a boss taking care of his employees. “I’m gonna take her home.”

He didn’t even have to prompt you to follow before you were sliding off the booth, your legs barely keeping you up. He followed quickly after you, hooking his arm around your back before you could collapse, leaving your untouched drink on the table in front of them. 

idk what it is about these two but they really like going at it in public

tags: @canuck-eh, @ssamorganhotchner, @criminalskies, @xladyxdreamer

[girlboypersonthingy]

omg i love your blog sm!! it’s been a while since ive been in the fandom and i didn’t think anyone wrote for vld anymore, ahhhh but i love the way you write!! you’re so so talented!! how do you think a love triangle sitch with keith and lance would play out? i love the both but UGHHHH THE DRAMA I LOVE IT😩😩

Oh my god thank you so much! I’m so flattered asfdafh 🥰🥹 I know the fandom is dead to most but not to all. I’m still here and voltron will always live on in my heart ❤️‍🔥 BRO THIS PROMPT??? PLZ ITS SO GOOD AAHHH ENJOY!

❤️Love Triangle💙

Okay first of all, these two would try to win you over IN COMPLETELY OPPOSITE WAYS.

Lance is, of course, over the top and very romantic and kind of cliche but so considerate and thoughtful and sweet.

Keith will be more nonchalant and mysterious, trying to use his skills and talents to impress you. He’s the type to slowly win you over by being very genuine and honest.

It started when Lance threw a pick up line your way and not only was the line terrible…but you actually laughed at it. It brought some pink to your cheeks as well. They both noticed that.

Lance was very smug about the fact that he made you giggle and blush.

Keith was a little annoyed at first, thinking Lance was just being his usual obnoxious self. So Keith just kept trying to make moves on you in his own way.

One day, Lance walked into the training room to see you and Keith sitting beside each other on the floor, breathing heavily as if you’d just decided to take a break. He couldn’t really hear what Keith was saying but you looked very focused, very into the conversation and you two were sitting just a little bit too close for his liking.

Lance didn’t like the eyes you were making at the red paladin

But Keith sure did. He was so excited to be sitting so close to you.

Then it’s like the spider man meme of them pointing at each other like 😧👉🏻 👈🏻😮

“Wait! You like (Y/N)? No no no, you can’t! I like (Y/N)!”

“Well I liked them first!”

“No! No! Dibs!”

“Really? Dibs?” *eye roll*

For the next week, they’re both acting like goofballs around you.

It’s kind of hilarious and very entertaining for you because…you notice that they start adopting each other’s ways of flirting and dropping hints. They do a little swap.

It’s like they think the other person has a better chance with you so they try to switch it up and copy each other. Lance thinks Keith’s ‘mysterious bad boy’ persona is something you’re into. Keith thinks you find happiness in all the silly, goofy things Lance does. So they both try to switch it up in hopes of making you fall for them. Does that make sense?

Imagine Keith trying to use a pick up line on you and failing miserably. He’s probably sweating through his shirt and his mouth is dry bc he’s so close to you, he can smell your shampoo. He’d end up stuttering and then getting really pissed at himself for looking dumb in front of you. May go back to his room and pout if he felt things didn’t go well.

Now imagine Lance trying to be all soft spoken and mysterious, trying to act cool. Lance trying not to talk too much is the equivalent of him holding his breath. It’s only a matter of time before he breaks character and says some dumb, cheesy shit that has you rolling your eyes. He awkwardly shuffles away to his room and also pouts bc he feels like he’s just loud and annoying.

The boys got into a yelling match about it once. The pot just boiled over and all you could do was watch.

That was their very shitty, joint confession of their feelings for you- them screaming about who likes you more, who liked you first, who you’re more compatible with, ect ect blah blah blah

All right in front of you

And all the while, the whole team is so confused

Cue Allura and Hunk stepping in between them because both their faces are turning red from anger and jealousy.

Everyone just looks at Shiro like 👀

Shiro, the dad of the group: 🙄😤 “fine…”

Shiro sits them both down for a long chat and by the end of it, the boys have come to terms with the fact that they both like you and not only is it your choice who you’d want to be with, but there’s a lot of other things to be worried about rn. They shouldn’t, and they won’t, pressure you.

Buuttttt…they do keep up some of the same things they like to do with you.

Keith still trains with you often (and he really enjoys helping you with your stance/posture bc he gets to be touchy✨)

Lance still invites you into his room to play video games (and he always seems out of breath when you sit so close to him, your arm touching his)

They try their best to control their temper around you and they try not to be around when you’re with the other person. They don’t need to see you being all close and personal with someone who isn’t them. :,(

The boys just continue to be their normal selves with you. They figure you should get to know them, the real them, before you make any decisions.

Yes, they both like you.

Yes. They’re both very competitive and very jealous.

But they respect each other and they respect you.

And we are in the middle of an intergalactic war right now, this is not a real priority.

They’ll give you some time and a pace to think about it.

Now comment on this post and tell me who you’d choose 😈 I love them both so so much but Lance is my soulmate for sure

[deonsx]

I recently found your blog and I love it so much I swear, I'm in love 😭💞

Can I request headcanons for Chuuya in which the Reader is usually very mature and all (who is a part of the Port Mafia) but acts like an irritated child when sleep-deprived? They seem to have feelings for each other but haven't confessed yet 😔👉🏻👈🏻

Take your time to write it but you don't have to if you don't want to! Thank you for reading my request 💞

Chuuya with a mature girlfriend

Feat: Chuuya x Reader

Content: Fluff,Comfort

Chuuya Nakahara

It was an ordinary work day with Chuuya, but he hadn't woken up yet, he was still sleeping, you lived in the same house and you were the one who dominated the house, and even you were the one who dominated and guided most of your relationship. One of your favorite qualities that impressed chuuya was having such a smart woman friend.

"Chuuya wake up!" You repeated it twice in an upright tone, but your ginger boy pulled the duvet over his head and still whined like a child. Normally he would make fun of this habit of mine, but right now he was in the same situation. After putting on my clothes, I put on my gloves and was completely ready, I checked the time. Enough time was arranged for Chuuya, you already knew he would wake up late... finally you both arrived at work and walked into a meeting, today's presentation was on you again, just like the 5th/7th of the week

As always, you made the most disciplined presentation. The whole team agreed with your idea. Your eyes shifted to your work partner chuuya. There was someone in his eyes who was proud of his girl. "Congratulations beauty, you are keeping this place alive today, as always." Even though he was the leader, he always introduced me that way too. He would take you everywhere, he would show the woman he was proud of everywhere.

Constantly causing trouble for him while he was sleeping at night made me play the role of a child for Chuuya, especially in my sleepless memories, which happens a lot because I am one of the building blocks of the port mafia and I get very tired trying to keep this place alive and of course our work is heavier and more crowded than the other team members, so I would often lose sleep. I was constantly complaining, but Chuuya was used to my sleepless state, my mind was not working on plans and tasks when I was sleepless, but even though I tried to explain this, people always loaded me with more work.

While I was tiredly trying to understand what my colleagues were saying, my eyes seemed to close at any moment. At that moment, a hand touched my hair and I turned to Chuuya. "You are tired enough. Do you want to run away from here?" he asked giggling I smiled

"You are the best man I could ever have"

Enjoy!

[jinkoh]

lip gloss

younghoon x fem!reader

summary: younghoon really likes your lip gloss. what he doesn't like is the silly bet his friends made about you...

tags: strangers to friends to lovers, secret relationship (kinda), fluff, a little jealousy, alternating povs, clothes sharing (v briefly), SFW

wordcount: ~4,8k

a/n: who would have thought i'm coming back after a writer's block with a completely new group--certainly not me lol 🤡 i have accidentally developed an obsession with the lip gloss mv and spent an ungodly amount of time watching it

this is my first time writing for tbz (and i also don't know them that well yet) so pls be kind 👉🏻👈🏻

also this fic is entirely to be blamed on @blizzardfluffykpop bc we came up with the idea together. thanks for brainrotting with me, kate ❤️

Masterlist

Younghoon liked his friends, he really did. It was just that at times he had to remind himself of the fact. Like now, when they were making yet another stupid bet among themselves, fueled as so often by the never ending quarrel between the beach volleyball players and the surfers. Younghoon wasn’t a surfer but neither did he play beach volleyball, except for the rare occasions when they were missing a man, so he usually got out of these antics fine without picking a side. Still, this time the guys were being too much. Younghoon had already turned to Sangyeon in hopes of ending this nonsense, but to his utter disappointment even Sangyeon was in on this, confidently nodding along that his team would win.

It wasn’t that Younghoon didn’t understand the temptation—who wouldn’t want an excuse to talk to you? You’d caught his attention too when he’d come to the beach a few days ago. It was starting to get hot, spring slowly turning into summer, and the owner of the little beach bar had decided it was time to kick off the season. Instead of him though, someone else was manning the bar. You had an arm propped up on the counter and mindlessly scrolled on your phone. Younghoon couldn’t blame you, the bar wasn’t usually busy until later so it wasn’t like you had anything better to do. Without paying it any mind, he jogged down the beach to the volleyball net where he knew to find the others, the girl from the bar quickly forgotten over a very imbalanced game. In fact he didn’t think of you again until he walked back to the bar to get some soda for everyone. There still weren’t any customers around, but instead of doom scrolling you’d taken out some lip gloss, using your phone’s camera as a mirror as you swiftly applied it to your lower lip. He felt he shouldn’t be watching this, but he also couldn’t look away. There was something so captivating about this scene. Just when you were smacking your lips together (twice) you seemed to have noticed his gaze. You looked up with surprise in your eyes before giving him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, didn’t see you there. What can I get you?” The gloss made your lips look shiny. Maybe he had already been a goner then.

So, it really wasn't that he didn't understand. But betting on who’d get your number first seemed a bit much and, frankly, kind of rude too. There was no stopping them though, but perhaps he could at least give you a little warning?

He got up from where everyone was sitting on the sand, just far enough from the shore to not get wet, and jogged back to the wooden path that led further up the beach and to the bar.

“Where are you going?” Eric yelled behind him. “Not getting a head start, are you?”

Younghoon huffed a laugh. “What makes you think I’d join a silly bet like that?”

Eric grinned. “Scared of even trying, huh?”

“Mhm, sure.”

With a shake of his head he walked the last few meters to the bar, where he sat down on one of the stools at the counter. Once more, it was empty despite being late at night, but he supposed not everyone had the freedom to come out here this late on a weekday.

“So,”  you turned to him with a mischievous grin, before he could even say anything. “What kind of bet were you talking about?”

He ran his hands through his hair. “You heard that?”

“Was hard not to.”

“I’m not sure you really want to know.”

“I don’t care either way. But you guys have been stealing glances at the bar this whole time—you better not do anything that will get me in trouble with the boss.”

“They wouldn’t,” Younghoon didn’t hesitate to reply. Sure, they were silly and stupid at times, but they wouldn’t put someone’s job on the line for funsies. “But they also weren’t exactly looking at the bar.”

“They weren’t, huh?” You grinned and Younghoon couldn’t help but notice the shimmer of your lip gloss.

“It’s your number,” he said, tearing his eyes away from your lips. “They want your number.”

You nodded slowly, looking more amused than offended. There was a challenging glint in your eyes. “So, you think getting my number is silly?”

The question caught him off guard so his reply came out a little too slow to be smooth. “No, that’s far from silly. Just betting on it is.”

“Hmm, how do I know you’re not secretly in on it though?”

“Why would I butcher my chances by telling you about the bet then?”

You leaned over the counter a bit, propping up your head with your closed hand. “Maybe this is your strategy to appear upright and honest?”

He stifled a laugh. “Well, I’m honest. I don’t know about the rest.”

 “Fair enough.”

Younghoon didn’t get your number that night, but neither did anyone else and that gave him a little satisfaction. He’d offered to try and talk them out of it again, but you’d declined. “No,” you’d said with a grin. “I wanna see them try. It sounds fun.” 

He thought he possibly liked more about you than just your lip gloss.

The guys went all out. Some attempts didn’t seem too bad while others gave him a strong sense of secondhand embarrassment. But you seemed to be having fun with it, so who was he to intervene? And maybe, just maybe, he liked the way you’d throw him knowing glances from time to time, sharing a secret only for the two of you to know.

Yet, he wondered if maybe one of them would manage to sway your heart—he’d seen Kevin steal you away during your break earlier, to take you to the wooden jump tower near the cliffs. He liked to boast about his diving, and from the way Younghoon could hear you laughing from afar you seemed to be having fun. He stalled for a moment, watching how you were sitting on the pier, your feet dangling in the water. When Kevin pushed himself up with his arms to get onto the pier next to you, you playfully shoved him back, making him go under with a splash. He was laughing when he came back up, and so were you. That was a good thing, right? You were having fun. You already knew the thing with the bet too, so if you liked Kevin in spite of that then who was Younghoon to interfere? Kevin was a good guy anyway, and bet or not he seemed genuinely interested. No, there shouldn’t be any problem.

And yet, Younghoon felt bitter about it, a greedy part of him wishing he could have that laugh all to himself.

“So, can I have your number? In case I need a buddy to go diving with again sometime?” Kevin grinned up at you from the water, brushing back his wet hair. It reminded you of Younghoon, the way he’d run his hand through his hair every few minutes, pushing it out of his forehead just for it to fall right back into place. Maybe you should buy him some bobby pins—probably not. After all, you liked when he did that.

“Is that smile a yes?” Kevin pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Huh? Ah, sorry, left my phone at the bar,” you both knew it was just an excuse, but Kevin didn’t seem particularly offended. He swam over to the pier, resting his arms on the wooden board and propping up his chin.

“What has you so happy then?”

“Nothing much. Just a friend.”

“I can be a friend too,” he replied playfully. 

“Sure, friend,” you easily agreed, ignoring the flirty undertone that defeated the meaning of his words. Friends you could do.

To be honest, your expectations for this summer had been low. You didn't know anyone in this small town aside from your uncle and even though you had a good relationship with him, you could picture better ways to spend the hot season than helping out at his bar. To your surprise though, you were slowly starting to enjoy your time here. When you’d first heard of the bet it hadn’t left the best impression, but seeing them try so hard to impress you was a little cute and despite everything they seemed like sweet, genuine guys. And the fact that you knew about the bet made it pretty fun to watch the spectacle, even more so since you had someone to share mischievous smiles about it with. It felt like you were partners in crime, a secret friendship blooming between the two of you that had no real reason to be secret aside from the thrill of it all. 

You weren’t the fondest of riding the bicycle. In fact, back at home you didn’t even own one. You lived in the next bigger town and you got around just fine using public transport. That seemed unthinkable here though, with two buses running a day—one in the morning and one at night. So, if you didn’t want to walk everywhere, you had to make do with your cousin’s old bicycle that he’d used before he’d moved out for college. It was a little rattly but it was holding up pretty well—or at least that had been the case until today. You weren’t sure what exactly happened, but suddenly the counter pressure when pedaling had disappeared, and you’d almost fallen forward over the bicycle’s handlebars. Now you were standing at the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, not even half way back to your uncle’s place with no reception and a chain that was just loosely hanging off the gears. It being night didn’t really help you to feel better about it all. While you knew it was probably safer here than in some street downtown that was bustling with drunk people, it still felt scarier, the tall trees along the road looming over you. Begrudgingly you pushed the bicycle forward, the lamp flickering weakly and barely doing anything to lighten up the path ahead.

In the distance, you heard the sound of an engine approaching, and the thought of coming across someone on this deserted street made your stomach churn with dread. A brief glance behind you told you it was a motorcycle, the headlight almost a little blinding in the darkness. Just before it went past you, you squeezed your eyes shut, hoping it would go by fast. You wanted to let out a relieved breath once it did, but then you heard the motor stopping only a few meters ahead. Your eyes snapped open, panic rushing through your veins as you watched the driver get off. Your grip around the handle bars tightened, making your knuckles turn white. You made a point of not looking at the guy, even when he came closer, but then you heard a familiar voice.

“Y/n? You good?”

You raised your gaze in time to see him take off his helmet. He shook out his black hair before pushing it out of his forehead the way he always did.

“Younghoon.” Relief washed over you.

“Sorry, did I frighten you?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“So, what happened?” He took an examining look at your bicycle. “Chain came off?”

You shrugged helplessly. “Whatever you say.”

He nodded slowly, running his hand through his hair once more. “I can fix that for you.”

“Really?”

“It’s pretty simple. But maybe something for daylight. Let me give you a ride home and we’ll come back for it tomorrow?”

You glanced over to the motorcycle that was waiting a little ahead and then back to Younghoon. Your expression must have been weary because he grinned. “Don’t worry I have a spare helmet. And I’m a safe driver too.”

“I wasn’t doubting you.”

“It’s fine if you were.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Mhm, sure,” he stepped a little closer, putting the helmet on for you and closing the fastener under your chin. Your breath caught when his fingers brushed against your skin, the feeling lingering despite the fleetingness of the touch. “Ready to go?”

You swallowed around the lump in your throat, trying to get a grip of yourself. “Just a—let me just—,” instead of finishing your sentence you just gestured towards your bicycle instead. He huffed a laugh and watched as you pushed it further to the side and leaned it against a tree in safe distance to the road. Once you’d locked it, you turned back around to Younghoon who was still looking at you. 

“Ready,” you croaked.

He smiled, and despite the darkness of the night you could see the small crinkles forming in the corners of his eyes. “Good.” 

You walked the few meters to his bike in silence and you thought there was an odd tension there. Or maybe you were just nervous about the ride, you reasoned with yourself. He got out his spare helmet, pushing his hair out of his forehead once more before putting it on. With ease he swung his leg over the machine before patting the leather of the seat behind him. You got on too, certainly looking a lot less dignified than he did and shuffled back as far as you could to bring some distance between the two of you. Before starting the motor, he looked back at you once more. “Hold on tight.” Unsure what exactly to hold onto, you clung to the edges of the seat, your nails digging into the leather.

He didn’t drive too fast, surely out of consideration for you, but you still couldn’t help but feel a little anxious. When he hit a small bump in the road, you let out a shriek, your arms instinctively letting go of the seat to wrap around his waist instead. You held on tight, the distance you’d made sure of before completely forgotten. Once you’d recovered from the brief shock though, you wondered if this was okay or if you’d overstepped. But Younghoon didn’t say anything about it and you didn’t want to let go again, not when you felt so safe with your arms wrapped around him.

The ride was over way too quickly, and you almost wished you’d given him wrong directions when he stopped in front of your uncle’s house. Chances of him catching on would have probably been high though, considering he was from here while you were just here for the summer.

“Are you sure it’s this one?” Younghoon said, after he’d taken off his helmet, looking at the house questioningly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I just didn’t know you were related to the owner.”

“He’s my uncle,” you explained matter of factly. “But how do you know he lives here?”

Younghoon chuckled. “This is a pretty small town, you know?”

“Right,” you nodded. You took your helmet off too, awkwardly holding it out for him to take. “So, uh, thanks for the ride.”

He tore his gaze away from the house to meet yours. “Was my pleasure.” There was that sweet smile again, making your heart melt. You smacked your lips together, the way you did when applying lipstick—a nervous habit of yours. His gaze flickered to the movement before wandering back up to your eyes. There was something there. He took a small step towards you, just a few inches but it felt like he was suddenly way up in your personal space. You thought he was going to kiss you, but he didn't move. Instead he just kept looking at you with an unreadable expression.

Unable to hold eye contact, you lowered your head, staring at your feet instead. “I should go inside then.”

“Mhm, you should. I’ll pick you up tomorrow? Is around noon good?”

“Pick me up?”

He chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “Your bicycle, remember?”

“Oh, of course. Noon is good. Should I give you my number? Maybe you can text me fifteen minutes or so before you’ll be here tomorrow?”

“Not worried that this is all just part of my scheme to win the bet?” His voice was quiet and yet there was a cockiness to it that made your heart race.

"Shut up." It was a weak comeback, but it put a grin on Younghoon's face. His gaze dropped to your lips once more before coming back up.

"Make me."

Your eyes widened in surprise, caught off guard by the bold implication of his words. You swallowed around the lump in your throat, your whole body was thrumming with nerves. Your gaze flickered to his lips. You inched closer. That's what he'd meant right? You wouldn't be overstepping if you kissed him now, right? You looked up into his eyes, just to be sure that you weren't misunderstanding things. But right when you did, he cupped your jaw with his hand, pulling you in until his lips crashed into yours. 

Kissing him felt so natural, it was as if all your secret smiles and shared grins had naturally led up to this moment. You kissed him until you felt breathless and even then you were reluctant to pull away. When you finally did, he didn't let you go too far, his thumb drawing patterns on your cheek and his eyes taking in every inch of your face.

"I think I should really go now," you eventually broke the silence when you couldn't endure it anymore.

"Okay," he whispered.

"Okay," you repeated. "I'll see you around noon."

Younghoon couldn’t stop himself from smiling on the whole ride home. You'd forgotten to give him your number, but he felt that it didn't really matter anymore. He could just ask you again tomorrow. After all, he'd gotten something way better tonight. He recalled the way your arms had held onto him tightly on the ride and your tousled hair after you’d taken off the helmet. Mostly, he recalled how warm your lips had felt against his. He couldn’t wait to see you again.

The chain was back on in a matter of seconds. Younghoon looked as if he’d done it a zillion times before.

“And you couldn’t have done that last night?” You asked from where you were standing next to him, watching as he wiped his fingers on a cloth. Nothing had happened since he'd picked you up and you'd driven back to your bicycle together. You almost wondered if it was all an odd fever dream and he didn’t actually kiss you.

“I did say it was easy," He admitted simply, "But it’s always better to check everything with proper lighting rather than letting you ride home on a potentially broken bicycle. Can’t risk you getting hurt, can we?" 

It was just common decency but somehow the way he said it, looking up at you with a cheeky grin, made your heart skip a beat and your cheeks flush. You avoided his gaze, your focus falling onto his jaw instead. “You have a little—” you motioned to your own face, trying to mirror where he’d stained his skin with grease just below the jaw line. He tried to wipe it away with the back of his hand, his grin traded for something more innocent. “There?”

The scene captivated you a little too much, thoughts of touching that jaw, of pulling him into a kiss circling your mind. In your daze, it took you a second to snap out of it. “Yeah,” you mumbled, not really paying attention. "There."

Younghoon thoroughly made sure the bicycle was safe to ride and only then started to pack up his tools. You watched as he diligently put them away. 

“How come you know how to do this?” you eventually broke the silence.

“What, putting a chain back on?”

“Yeah.”

“Hm,” he shrugged. “I like fixing things. And it comes in handy too, doesn’t it?” He said the last bit with a smile that you couldn’t help but return.

“Yeah, it does. Thanks again.” 

He got up and dusted off his pants. “It’s nothing. Call me if something happens again.”

“I will.” Your gaze followed him as he walked back to his bike, getting his helmet from where it hung off the handle bars. He didn't put it on just yet, taking a quick glance at the wing mirror first.

“You lied!” He complained in mocked offense, before turning back around to you. He wore a pout, his finger pointing at the grease stain that was still right there below his jaw line.

You giggled. “What can I say, I’m neither upright nor honest.”

Younghoon grinned and walked back over to you, his helmet still in his hand. "Is that so?" He asked as he stepped back into your personal space. You took a tiny step towards him too, closely watching his reaction. That grin was still there. With a racing heart you tugged the cloth out from where he had messily shoved it into his pocket. Then you reached up to his jaw, slowly wiping at the grease stain until it was gone. The whole time, Younghoon was watching you intently, your eyes, your nose your lips—

You lowered your hand when you were done, but he caught your wrist to stop you from going too far.

"Thanks." His voice was barely a whisper. Your eyes flickered to his mouth.

"You're welcome," you replied just as quietly, inching just the tiniest bit closer. You felt his breath on your skin and then his lips on yours, again and again and again.

Things between the two of you felt exciting and new and good—but there was also this looming uncertainty. Younghoon knew what it meant to him. But what about you? What was all this to you? Even though he didn't want to delude himself, he couldn't help hoping that this, that he was special to you. The secret smiles you exchanged started to feel a little different, like there was a little more. And there was: the two of you were texting a lot now that you'd exchanged numbers and you often came down to the beach earlier to hang out with him on the old lighthouse before your shift. You weren’t doing that for the other guys. Your gaze also didn't linger on them the way it did on him, no matter how much they pestered you. And of course you weren't kissing them either. That was, as far as he knew, reserved for him alone. That made it easy to endure when you were laughing and joking around with the guys. Except at times, you'd glance over to him with a cocky grin. Almost as if you wanted to make sure he was watching, as if you wanted to purposely rile him up. It made him want to walk over and kiss you right there in front of them, but you hadn't talked about these things yet and you seemed to enjoy the thrill of hide and seek. So, kissing was only allowed for when you were alone with no one to see.

Consequently he was keeping a low profile, sitting in the sand with some of the others and pretending not to watch from afar how Changmin and Juyeon were leaning on the counter, competing for your attention. Eventually he tore his gaze away to focus on the conversation in front of him instead, which only got interrupted when Jacob remarked that Changmin and Juyeon must have been unsuccessful, as they were coming back down to the beach. You on the other hand were not behind the bar anymore, a small sign indicating that it was closed for now. A feeling of worry started to spread in his guts. Did something happen? Did they make you feel uncomfortable? He knew his friends were good guys and wouldn’t ever intentionally do that, but just because it wasn't their intention didn't mean it couldn’t happen. Maybe it was nothing, but he just needed to make sure you were okay.

Without thinking further he got up from the sand, jogging past Changmin and Juyeon who looked at him in confusion, and up to the bar. You weren't anywhere to be found though, the little door locked and the space behind the counter empty. The other only place he could come up with was the lighthouse, so he made his way there, hurrying up the spiral staircase until he got to you, sitting in the middle of the steps and munching on a sandwich. You looked up at him in surprise as he stood before you, breathing a little heavy, but a smile spreading on his lips. He chuckled. He should have known he was worrying for nothing.

"You're on break?"

"Mhm," you nodded and scooted over a bit, making space for you to sit with him. "What's the hurry for?" 

There was a little sauce on your upper lip. He reached out to wipe it away and you simply let him.

"I don't know, I was wondering if you're fine."

"Why wouldn't I be?'

He shrugged. He didn't know either, after all you'd never been uncomfortable with the boys' advances. Maybe he was the only one who felt that way. 

You leaned in a little closer, bumping your shoulder against his with a cheeky grin. "Or were you maybe jealous?"

With a huffed laugh he met your gaze. "What if I was?"

He thought he saw your cheeks flush when you focused back on your sandwich. "Maybe I'd like that."

It was late, around midnight, and you listened to the sound of the waves as you sat side by side in the sand. The bar was still open, but your uncle had taken on the night shift, giving you the freedom to spend your time out here, away from people. You hear the music and laughter from afar and if you turned around you'd see the colorful string lights too, but you much preferred the view of the ocean in front of you. At least for now.

Younghoon was sitting close to you, his hand just barely touching yours. You wondered if he was cold in his white tee while you were all wrapped up in his cozy hoodie. You inched closer, intertwining your fingers and pulling his hand into your lap. Maybe you could at least keep his arm warm. He turned to look at you with a smile, before running his free hand through his hair.

"The boys would hate this," he said with a chuckle. 

"Would they really?" Your voice sounded more serious than intended. You knew it was just an offhand comment, but it made you wonder if that could be a dealbreaker for him. You knew he treasured his friends.

He considered for a moment. "Only if I'm not serious. They care about you, you know." 

"So, are you? Serious?"

"Yeah." He didn't shy away from your gaze. "I'm serious."

You squeezed his hand in yours and he squeezed right back and even though it was such a small gesture it gave you butterflies. He was serious about you, about this. With flushed cheeks and a smile tugging at your lips, you leaned your head against his shoulder. You sat like that for a while, back to listening to the waves.

"Maybe we should end their bet," you eventually mumbled. "Since they already lost." You could imagine the surprise on their face if you were to tell them.

"Mhm, we should," he rested his head against yours, "but not now. Let's stay here a little longer."

 "Yeah, let's."

"That actually makes so much sense," Eric exclaimed dramatically, after you'd told them a few days later. "How else would you have resisted my charm?" 

Changmin huffed a laugh. "Right, because you're so irresistible."

"Hey–"

"Anyway," Sangyeon interrupted, "that means the bet is off."

Sunwoo looked at him with a raised eyebrow, casually resting his arm on Younghoon's shoulder. "You're only saying that because you've lost. Younghoon is clearly on team beach volleyball. He just joined in on a game the other day."

Eric shook his head and formed an X with his arms. "Nope, no, he clearly said he wasn't joining."

Younghoon rolled his eyes at their antics, wondering if he should say something to make them shut up. But then he met your amused gaze and decided to leave it be. 

"What was the wager anyway?" You asked him quietly. 

Younghoon shrugged as he intertwined his fingers with yours. "I have no idea." 

You giggled. He liked the sound of it and the happy glint in your eyes. He also liked the shimmer of your lip gloss.

no tbz masterlist (edit: nvmnd here it is) but feel free to check out my other works if you liked this or leave a follow to keep up with future works~

[sleepysnk]

Ooooh please tell us more about locker room sex with Kunigami 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

smirk

older brother best friend!kunigami who plays soccer and invites you to come and see him play. he loves seeing you in his jersey and cheering him on throughout his game. he gets even more excited when he realizes that his team is in the lead and they’re about to win.

once the game is over, he drags you to the locker room and presses you against the different lockers inside it. he has his hands all over you, squeezing and groping at all of the sensitive areas of your body. he’s just completely unable to resist you and all he wants is to completely ravage you. he would make you so wet that he almost laughs at how easy it was to make you crumble beneath him. he would fuck you so good that you struggle to keep quiet inside the locker room. he almost has to shove his fingers into your mouth to shut you up because you’re such a moaning mess.

“better stay quiet, baby, don’t want my teammates finding out what i’m doing to you, yeah?”

[lestappenforever]

hi angel c:

may I just say that this gp was as a fiction? it served us SO MUCH Lestappen content from the begging to the very end! i was scared that at some point it's gonna be fucked (yep talking about Charles' "luck") but instead we got a joint interview, a lot of waist grabbing, smiles and giggles, press conferences with "inchident" jokes and karting days (i'm so sorry for Checo and Carlos being the third wheel but it's inevitable, guys) AND the most important – a battle even in FP2 and then in race! i mean, Charles has done FANTASTIC job (not only in race but throughout the whole weekend. his quali laps? fuck that was hot). i don't remember when was the last time someone overtook Max in battle for the lead. i wanna scream to see Charles in capable and suitable for his style car (and reliable team that does not fuck up the strategies *side-eye to RBR*) 😭😭😭

is Vegas gp gonna be Austria 2.0? we even had the "dirty move" from Max which helped him to took the lead (as in 2019 but thanks fuck no grudges are left no divorce and yeah this time it was just a grip problem), then battles and the sensual podium. damn let us have every gp as Austria and Vegas and Lecstappen tumblr will go completely insane ._.

i'm also still not over the fact that Max apologized. I mean this man is literally the entire weekend was: FUCK YOU OKON FUCK YOU GEORGE FUCK YOU VEGAS FUCK EVERYONE OF YOU except you charlie you're my sweety lovely im sorry for the turn 1 schatje 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

i've seen some people being afraid of "lestappen divorce" after that turn 1, but i wasn't one of them. i really think that their relationship has seriously changed. sure that Max always treated Charles in a special way, congratulating him on good positions, even if he himself lost. but for some reason I feel that Charles himself now does not transfer what happens on the track beyond its boundaries. Austin sprint was also the proof.

okay thanks for listening to my rambling, i'm sleep deprived, these FPs at 5:30 and a race at 7:00 at the weekend the only fucking days when I can get some sleep kinda killed me

anyway, let me just remind you that you're beautiful and precious and just incredibly wonderful person🖤 i'm always looking forward for your posts and every time you reply to anons it's so warm, it makes my day better when i read it. just all your love and kindness you're giving people here... it's valuable. you're valuable. love ya, have a great day!!❤️

Denis, my darling, hello! ❤️

Once again you are dropping truth bombs in my ask box, and I am so happy to read them. I agree with every take you've shared here: the Las Vegas GP practically being taken straight out of a fic, and it actually giving Austria 2022 a run for its money. (Which I doubt any of us were prepared for, let's be honest.)

Both Max and Charles have grown so much over the years, and it's wonderful to see that their relationship has reached the point it's at now. Max apologizing to Charles for the incident in turn 1 is definitely a testament to the severe shift their friendship has taken recently, and it's just beautiful to watch.

I wasn't worried at all about their friendship suffering because of what happened in turn 1, and I think those who were worried about a potential "divorce" are people who haven't been as up-to-date on the shift of their friendship recently. They've reached a point where they can have incidents like that during a race without it impacting their relationship negatively at all. And if that isn't growth, then I don't know what is.

I hope you're catching up on some much needed sleep following this race weekend. 💙

Denis, you have given me such a good reason to smile this Monday morning with yet another heartfelt and kind ask, and words can't express how much I appreciate that and you. You are such a sweetheart, you're so incredibly beautiful inside and out, and you deserve the entire world. I'm so moved by your words, thank you so, so much. I'm so happy my posts can have that kind of impact on you.

Thank you so much for making my entire day with this. You're so valuable too, and I love you. 💕

[standbyric]

[PART I]

03: Hunga'roaring'

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x Female!Driver OC x Pierre Gasly Premise: Formula One, Female Racing Driver Rating: 18+; Mature themes (explicit language, death, trauma innuendos, motorsport accident, mentions of sex) Timeline: Back and forth Warning: ...kinda long because of the race part... maybe skip if you don't wanna read it hahaha. But I'm actually quite satisfied with how I wrote it.... >.< and also, face reveal! Next next chappy will have a bit of manip as well 👉🏻👈🏻 Word Count: 7.7k Sum: All or nothing in Hungary. Dramatic race and a prejudiced trial.

⬅️ Chapter 02 | MASTERLIST | Chapter 04 ➡️

IT was almost 1 PM local time. The Formula One circus had arrived in Budapest, Hungary, for the 11th round of the 2016 World Championship.

But what was supposed to be a highly anticipated Saturday qualifying session had turned into a waiting game as Hungaroring fell victim to wet patches and puddles following the heavy downpour.

Zea stared at the group of clouds as they cast a shadow and showered rain all over the circuit. She clicked her tongue. “Yeah, that’s not gonna stop any time soon.”

“You reckon?” Marq had followed her to stand in the opening of the garage so they could take a better look at the downpour.

“Yeah, I mean, look at that; that shit looks heavy. Maybe give it twenty to thirty minutes?” she cocked her head, pointing at the cloud. “Track still needs an hour or more to dry, though.”

It was something that Zea had unintentionally developed; a keen connection with the rain. Alby said it was almost mystical. She’d drawn the rain, and the rain had drawn her the same. It was last year, during the pre-season testing in Barcelona when it was first out on display. 

The fourth and final day of testing in Barcelona had most teams stuck in their garage, stagnant and unproductive. Six red flags were waived, with the McLaren crash constituting the last one. 

When everyone thought it couldn’t get any worse, a sudden drizzle came after the lunch break, which soon carried on to a complete rainstorm, drenching the track for the afternoon session.

That was when Alby made what the other Team Principals present deemed an ‘unnecessary’ call. Will Buxton, who was there then, had also taken the liberty to give his two-cent on the decision, saying, “Quite the questionable move from the Audi garage, as they send car number 88 to run on the wet track. We understand that race control had green-flagged the track, but isn’t the more logical and accordingly favourable decision would be to wait for the track to completely dry?”

Alby didn’t say anything. He didn’t react. He had kept his arms crossed, eyes glued to the monitor.

The garage was busy with the launch preparation for car number 88, as Chief Engineer, Frank October, had a final briefing with their newly signed driver before sending her off. And as soon as she got on board, she made a swift thrust along the pit lane, cinematically gliding over the splashes of the wet track.

It had served nonetheless as a majestic sight for both the eyes of spectators and all teams alike. Her execution was flawless and light.

She then proceeded to drive a breathtaking ten laps on the wet. Her race craft only got more refined with each lap, scoring her a provisional fastest lap since her run was incomparable to the dry record. Only after the track had thoroughly dried, she completed one flying lap to beat Grosjean’s record fair and square with a four-tenth gap.

Alby scoffed, knowing Zea had delivered his intention effectively.

It was a long shot, but his call was meant to taunt, like a war cry, signalling that Audi was here, and they weren’t here to play. He meant to taunt the drivers, so they don’t play her down and to taunt the team heads, oh well—to mess their heads a little bit. Let’s say Alby was a bit of a…sucker for drama. 

“Race control decides on a twenty-minute delay. Geez, that’s spot on, Z. You’re scaring me.” Marq relayed the message as soon as it was announced over the radio.

Zea broke into the biggest grin. “I’ll get Ace and Brick ready, then,” she said, stretching her arms before running over to join the mechanic team giving their final touches on the cars. 

“Improve time, over?”

“Negative. Unless track dries by the end of Q2, I’ll go out again.”

“Copy that. Box then.”

The Q1 session stopped following the third Red Flag after Massa slipped on the wet kerbs and spun into the barriers.

Zea had made the call on sticking to her set of Intermediate when it was still too early for slicks. Thanks to that, she was currently leading the qualifying with a massive 9.8 seconds gap from Ricciardo, who followed at P2 in his full Wets.

“That’s a massive gap. That means much control from Sinaga in that set of Intermediate. We saw five drivers spin on that same Inters during Q1. She might as well sit Q2, oh, which she’s already doing right now; her car is sitting in the garage. The rest is still fighting to avoid the cut, but they still haven’t come close to her time. And that is Grosjean, Kvyat, Perez, Raikkonen, Gutierrez and Nasr, out of Q2.”

True to her prediction, out was the sun just in time for Q3. Track temperatures back up to 40C, DRS was enabled; it was Green Flag for the 3rd session. And as soon as it began, Zea was forced to re-enter the track as Hamilton beat her provisional pole by a tenth of a second, followed by Rosberg and now Ricciardo.

“Oh, hell. Look at them ganging up on giving me a hard time. Let a woman have her pole, damn it,” Zea muttered as she readied herself for a flying lap.

“Ace on board, requesting flying lap, over.”

“Copy that, Ace. You are green to fly.”

“It’s the final chance for any last-lap improvements now, and we finally see Sinaga out with her Audi. She’s currently sitting in P9 now after Button. I must say that’s much confidence, coming out only on the final lap.”

“To be fair, if I had that much control over the Intermediate, I’d probably share her confidence. I don’t know if many people were aware of this, but this is not the first time she’d done that on a set of Inters.”

“Yes. I believe it was Catalunya; pre-season testing, yes? Sensational that was.”

“Indeed it was. And right now, everyone is fighting hard for Pole because it’s essential here since the track is difficult to overtake, especially in Sector 2.”

“Oh, look at that! We took our eyes off a little bit, and Alonso spun! That guarantees a Yellow flag now, doesn’t it?! I wonder how many drivers would be caught by that double Yellow…and Sinaga snatches provisional pole!”

“Replay is here. Sinaga, further back in the order, entered Sector 2 after Yellow flags were withdrawn, meaning she wasn’t slowed. Looks like the Yellows caught Ricciardo, Rosberg, and Hamilton!”

“Hell yeah, my first pole?”

“Almost? I want to congratulate you, but I must inform you the stewards have booked you for possible Yellow Flag infringement. You may or may not lose your pole.” Alby sounded devastated over the radio.

“…Right.” Zea exhaled hard. She had expected that to happen as soon as she passed the duo Mercedes and one Red Bull over that double Yellows.

What she didn’t expect was how quickly the stewards would jump her on that mere issue when she’d reckon there was a more crucial issue on hand.

Like… the prospect of perhaps half the grid being thrown into oblivion, otherwise known as the back of the grid?

Her setting a massive gap in Q1 meant that the whole grid had lapped outside of the excess seven per cent time she’d put, meaning if that rule were to be followed literally—she should be the only car allowed to race tomorrow.

Now wouldn’t that be an exciting show? Imagine that; a solo race with a female pilot on board.

But she’d understand that the stewards had permitted the rest to start the race for Sunday, given the exceptional circumstances, and had allowed the five fastest cars to proceed Q2 as normal.

She had shrugged it off.

But then? There were supposedly more penalties to give for Sunday if they were to apply the rule appropriately… Right?

She expected—read: cursed—the FIA board to have a long and nasty night trying to apply that rule without manifesting the image that a) they weren’t being fair to her, and b) she’d brutally murdered the lap time of the whole grid on Intermediate when the others were too chicken to try.

“So? What’s their plan? Cutting the leader altogether? Put me in the back of the pack? Instead of, you know, maybe handing out a charity on grid penalties for the next race?” Zea scoffed sarcastically, keeping her smile on as best as she could as she made her way to the building for the post-qualifying press conference. Elijah had consistently wiped her seemingly unending sweat while Margareth, her PR Manager, kept smiling bitterly at her continuous sarcasm.

“Is this gonna be that thing, you know, the ‘sacrifice one for the greater good’ thing? Is that it?” Zea chuckled at her statement, realising how absurd that had sounded. 

Margareth stepped in front of Zea just before they entered the building. She had felt Zea was sizzling with a much higher sarcasm level than she’d liked. It might’ve been the prior DNFs she’d suffered from the last three races that made this pole more critical for her. 

But they couldn’t risk her being irritable in front of the press, not when they’ve only started getting noticed by sponsors.

“Breathe in. Relax. Don’t get too worked up. Okay? Can we do that?” As much as Margareth acknowledged how unfair it was to demand this from her driver, facing reality was part of the job.

“Yes, Madre.” Zea finally responded after a couple of seconds of silence. But she wasn’t looking at Margareth straight in the eye. She was playing with her shoes.

“Zea.”

“Yes. I know. I promise.” Zea quickly gave her PR Manager an assuring smile as she pushed the door open. “Trust me.”

“Zea, what a dramatic qualifying session. How difficult was it out there, and describe your elation when you saw you had taken pole position at the end?”

Of course, they just had to start with a tragically rhetorical question. Which driver wouldn’t be happy after scoring pole position?

Zea caught sight of Margareth pressing her lips. She sighed.

Well, such a shame because, apparently, Zea was more level-headed than she’d thought.

She squeezed a somewhat strained smile out of her system before answering.

“Uhm… Great? Pretty much like Monaco, we all know Pole is critical here because of the nature of the track. But… you know, maybe cut that elation down to 50%, ‘cause I still don’t know which pole I’m gonna start tomorrow. Is it from the front or the back?”

Everyone laughed as Zea gave her signature smile that swallowed her eyes to a twin crescent moon, masking her annoyance at the FIA. Daniel, who’d start P3 for tomorrow's race, chuckled along.

“Very well, thank you, Zea. Coming to Nico. That was an unbelievably exciting qualifying session ahead of the Hungarian Grand Prix. Timing seemed so important: when to be out on the track to ensure you were there when the track was at its driest. Just give us an insight how tricky it was?”

“Yeah, it was a really challenging qualifying: the conditions changing all the time, very exciting out there. I mean, some kerbs still had some patches—going on to the start-finish straight; you had to be really careful opening DRS.”

Nico paused as he glanced at Zea.

“I don’t know how much Zea was up, but I know I got the fastest first sector, so I felt good on the lap. A bit unfortunate with Fernando, but these things happen. It was a tricky session, especially in Q1. I don’t know how she went that fast on Wets—“

“—she was on Inters,” Daniel said.

“You were on Inters in Q1?” Lewis had to interrupt.

Zea was a bit startled at the sudden attention. The room went into complete silence, expecting her answer.

“Uh,” Zea scratched her head, “Massa was also on Inters—I mean, six drivers were on Inters in Q1?”

“They crashed!”

“Exactly!” she exclaimed, before gulping, after realising how that had come out a little too brazen and how uncomfortable the air had become.

Sebastian was the first to scoff, amused when the other drivers sported a defeated look. “You know this little one can be quite spicy on the slippery track!” His comment had successfully toned down the almost hot atmosphere from Zea’s reply.

Zea turned her head a little, just enough to make eye contact with Sebastian, who was sitting behind her, before mouthing a ‘thank you,’ to which the German nodded.

Fortunately, the press picked up quickly after that.

“Lewis, congratulations. I look to Q2 when I look at you. It was very tense moment. You got through into Q3 in P10; your heart must have been in your mouth?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Lewis chuckled. “But obviously, when I came in and saw how close it was—that wasn’t great. I was up on my previous, but I knew that everyone else would be quicker. Very fortunate to get through, so that’s why even though I’m fourth, I’m just grateful I got through, and this puts me in a position to be at least able to fight for the win tomorrow.”

“Well Daniel, Lewis wants to fight for the win tomorrow. Seeing that you will share the second starting grid tomorrow, do you think you can fight for the win?”

“That’s the plan.” 

Zea had unknowingly twisted her head in Daniel’s direction, finding herself focusing on his answer. Why she did that, she wasn’t sure. But maybe that Monaco dinner impromptu did something to her. 

“We’ve more or less fought for it the last two years, and I think we’re even closer this year than we have been in the past in terms of pure pace. Tomorrow should be interesting.

“As always, the Mercs have had a good long-run pace; we’ve seen that in free practice, but we’ll be there, and obviously, we start close enough to the front to make a fight for it, and so hopefully, it’s an exciting race.”

No mention of how quick Audi had gotten?

“My question is for Zea.” That immediately pushed Zea to sit up, returning her attention to the press.

“Yep?”

“Looking at your qualifying today, rainy conditions, do you prefer rain conditions tomorrow or a dry race? That’s question number one, and question two: How afraid are you from losing the pole, perhaps after the investigation?”

Here we go.

Zea only had a fraction of a second to think; either give in to her temper and throw shit at the FIA or choose humour.

She chose humour.

Curse her fucking sound mind.

“Well… You know they say I like it wet….”

Once again, she brought laughter to the room with-what her little smirk as she wiggled her eyebrows up and down. And the fact that Daniel had laughed out loud sounded so worth listening to that reasonable side of her head.

“Why are you guys laughing? I’m just answering the question,” fake humour still laced her words.

“Anyway, of course, winning is still number one to me. I literally DNFed in the last three races. Scoring maximum points here is our objective, so I’d prolly say wet—hell, I’d summon the rain if I could. But,” she took a deep breath before continuing, “all the other drivers’ safety is still number zero to me. So, yeah, you do the math.”

We don’t want a repeat of all the spins in Q1 tomorrow, do we?

“Aww, that’s sweet. Didn’t know you could be sweet. I thought you only knew spicy.” The teasing tone in Daniel’s voice was enough to put a smile back on her face. 

“Aww, I’m sorry, P3; have I not been sweet to you?” Zea said, exaggerating her gesture, talking as if Daniel was a little kid throwing a tantrum.

And the Aussie broke into laughter again, making unnecessary adjustments on his hat from trying to swallow the little jab Zea had made on his P3. While Zea had begun wondering just what exactly this man would not smile and laugh at. 

“I’m gonna get you back, woman,” Daniel jabbed.

“Oh, psshh, go ahead, darling; but you have Nico in front of you. Should I ask him to give you some leeway?”

Nico scoffed, knowing the intense fight shared by the two people next to him for the third seat at the Drivers’ Standing, followed by Sebastian cackling at the Aussie. That was quite the random banter for the press, but no denying it had showered relief to the room.

“Second part of the question, Zea?”

“Right. Yeah,” what a way to surly her mood, Zea thought. 

“I think it’s not about me being afraid or not; it’s just, uhm, I didn’t know it even needed processing at all. I mean, rewind the footage. I slowed down enough; saw the double Yellows down; Alonso had cleared the track, so I ran; crossed the chequered flag; the end. Yay, pole! But then they say, nah, we might… be seeing different things. So, yeah, maybe I’m blind?”

“So you’re confident on keeping your pole?”

“I…” Zea had to pause to chuckle. What was his name? This reporter? Ralf? This man seemed to have taken a liking to push the limits of her rationality.

“Look, it’s not—it’s not about that,” she sighed in disbelief. Surely this wasn’t a topic too hard to grasp. “It’s just that I’m pretty sure there’s a more prominent issue the board is supposed to assess, so my yellow situation should get passed on quickly to get to that issue.”

“Right. We’d actually like to get on that.”

Yeah, that little smirk up the corner of his mouth; Zea didn’t like that at all. This Ralf guy? She’d be sure to put him on her red press list. 

“Question to all drivers: there was a major 107% time margin lockup in Q1. We understand that for the sake of Q2, decisions are postponed until after qualifying and are still in progress. What do you have to say to that?”

Zea brought her head down to hide her smirk. Ballsy. Now we’re getting somewhere.

“Nico?”

“Uhm, I’m not quite sure how to comment, but of course, exceptional circumstances applied; isn’t that how we could progress to Q2? But yeah, I’m not going to comment too much.”

“Sebastian? Anything to add?”

“I’m… looking forward to the decision, obviously, to see how this particular rule will be interpreted. Quite possibly, we might get penalties for the next race? I’ve said it before the sport has become congested with rules, but this one is a good rule to ensure competitiveness and safety on race day. Problem maybe this little one went too spicy on Q1.”

Lewis giggled at Sebastian’s response. “Yeah, man, I have to agree.”

“Daniel?”

“Yeah, I agree with Seb.” He shifted in his seat. “If I were to add maybe just, depending on interpretation, we might or might not get any race tomorrow? I was obviously among the ones who didn’t lap the 107th time-margin. But yeah, she sat Q2 off. That was kinda a shot to the heart, I would say.”

“Zea? Anything to add?”

Really?

“I… don’t know; I mean, I didn’t go to Law School or Business School; I graduated from an Engineering School,” she was aware that she’d startled everyone with that sudden disclosure, with the press immediately jumping on their keyboards once her sentence registered, and her colleagues’ blatant scepticism in their collective stares. Still, Zea thought this was the perfect opportunity to establish her standpoint within the media and the sports community.

“So interpreting and applying rules—that I would suck, no doubt, so I’m not gonna comment on that. But I’m sure as hell I know how to calculate—and Margareth, my beloved PR manager, is looking at me! Alrighty!” Zea clapped her hands while plastering an exaggerated smile on her face. “I’m sure the board will figure something out to ensure an exciting race tomorrow. They always do. Trust them.” Wow. One point for bullshit, and that is two to zero for the sane part of her head.

The last thing she remembered was Daniel whispering, ‘You went to an Engineering School?!’ before the press ended in a lot of confusion and unanswered questions for her, and she had to face her fate with the stewards.

“Put a smile on your face or something, Sis! You get to keep your pole!”

“Three hours,” Zea slammed the innocent water bottle on the table. “Took them that long to make the most worthless and inconsequential decision ever. Literally. Whatever. I’m still bugged they overrule any potential penalties.”

“It was raining. Prone to accidents. Give them a break.”

“It had stopped raining; the track was drying. So they should rain everyone with grid penalties instead!

“Look, it wasn’t even my fault that I wasn’t chicken enough to try Inters. How could they talk as if my Intermediate choice was ‘deliberate intent for unsafe driving on a wet track?’ Wh—For what? For me to show off?” That was when Elijah decided to shut the conference room door close, fearing the risk of someone else listening.

“Hey, I’m here to race. I’m here to maximise my points. And what about the other five who were also on Inters in Q1? They didn’t say anything about them. And how could they bring up Jules and accuse me of not respecting the double yellows after what had happened to him?

“Besides, it’s not my fault that their rules on double-waved yellows and the 107% are ambiguous. I’ve exercised enough caution! And my telemetry showed! 

“I knew it wasn’t the issue there; they just had to make up something to call me in. I knew it! They were still mad I kicked their shin on cockpit safety back in 2014!” Zea huffed, banging herself to the back of the seat, visibly frustrated.

“Wow, how mature. Holding a grudge for two fuckin’ years because they can’t handle me shoving facts up their arses. Accurate display of maturity, there,” she tried to sound more gentle after realising how much she was being overtaken by her temper. 

Irza stood up, snickering as he did so. His little sister was in that mood: the cranky one after being subjected to a prejudiced trial. Not her worse, but nonetheless, the hardest for her to mask. Yes, she could’ve laughed every other insult off, but being a victim of biased thinking? Hell, no. He knew how much she’d wanted to do well this season.

Hungary was supposed to be the turning point. 

After all that hard-fought additional cash, Audi had finally managed to make the necessary upgrade, and this weekend was supposed to be their first step to regain their lead on the Bulls. 

“Look at the bright side; you’re going viral—like real viral. Good sponsorship exposure. Let’s focus on that instead.”

“But it’s the bad viral, isn’t it?” Zea shuddered. “What—have they started saying I’ve faked my academic credentials now?”

“Oh, amorzinho, stop being so negative,” Irza threw his hands. “You literally have your face plastered on the university website and your dissertation published. Digital tracks are real. And besides, your colleagues have spoken up for you on social media, and I literally have your graduation photo on my Instagram.”

Zea fell into silence. Good thing she didn’t buy her way into her degree but worked her arse off instead.

God help her, for she’d been a geek her entire life. Her best friends were books and pens, sometimes numbers and data. Her hangout place of choice was the lab, and her means of salvation was high grades. And her dad being the front-runner of the ‘education is number one’ mentality, and her mom just nodding on the side, mouthing ‘just listen to your dad for now’ didn’t help either.

No, they weren’t exactly your tiger parents, and newsflash—her familial relationship was quite fine—or was now fine might be more appropriate. But yeah, that’s another story.

“Get some rest.”

“Don’t go big-brother on me. You’re only 3 hours older.”

“Excuse me, Miss?” Irza turned his head with much sass, “I’m saying this as your agent, not your big brother. You’re my investment, so I need you to perform well tomorrow. Duh.”

Zea clicked her tongue at her twin’s sassiness. “Where are you going?” she pushed herself from the back of the chair when she saw Irza about to take off with his jacket.

“Well, now that you’re done with your work on track, I have to work off track. Get some rest.”

Zea scrunched up her face. “Work hard. Stay safe.”

And Alby chuckled, which compelled Zea to turn her head in his direction. He gave her a small smile, but it was enough to straighten back the folds between the eyebrows of his star driver. She softened her demeanour. “I have a legitimate reason to be upset, Alby. You know that,” she muttered softly. 

Alby kept his smile, assuring she did nothing wrong, as he leaned back on his chair.

After all, faulting her was one thing he would never do. Grateful was an understatement of what he’d felt towards the twins. Indebted was perhaps closer, with a splash of pride that they’d pledged their loyalty to Audi.

He still remembered it as clear as day. The night Irza came to him, boring his name naked. He was sent speechless. 

“Okay. You are a very straightforward young man. How did you know we were planning on entering next season?”

“News spread fast in this industry, Mr Krüger; I’m sure you’d know better. Besides, you’re not entirely being secretive with the preparation: prototype, job posted and everything,” Irza had said as he slid his name card on the table, which immediately stunned Alby.

He had to check twice to ensure he didn’t read wrong. “…I didn’t know he had a son?”

Irza chuckled at the false impression. “Nephew. And my sister, his niece.”

At first, Alby didn’t budge. He was aware that this ‘Zeahire’ was the 2013 GP2 Champion. But other than her being a female, quite a decent driver, not much was known about her—hell, not even her face. 

Being his niece should not directly translate to her ability, and besides, her being a woman did not exactly hold a high sponsorship prospect. 

“How are you confident we haven’t signed anyone?”

“You wouldn’t have met me otherwise, Mr Krüger,” Irza was calm and confident. “Although half of it might be to have me stop bothering you daily with emails.” That got Alby chuckling.

“Let her drive for Audi. Give her car; she’ll give you result.”

Alby had cut the cards to honour the name and decided to summon her to the Neuburg site, the heart of Audi motorsport, for some testing, albeit hesitant.

By the time she got there, it had just finished raining. Petrichor was still fresh in the air, and drops of water still lingered on the tarmac. 

Both Alby and Frank had hesitated to run her for the sake of safety. But Zea had other thoughts.

“Let me run. You summoned me here to gauge my ability, didn’t you? All the more reason,” she’d sounded so sure that Alby found himself nodding his head. 

And then, the rest was history. 

Alby blinked his eyes at the fond memory. Two years of partnership now had made him quite fond of the twins. Blame his age, though. 

“I’m sorry, Alby. I know I’ve put you in a tough position with the FIA because—“

“—No, no. Forget about it.” Alby gave her a reassuring smile. “Your brother is right. You need enough rest for tomorrow. So get some rest.”

Let’s say this was part of her routine; watching the GP2 race that preceded the Formula One Grand Prix, just as a way to get herself into the zone for the race. Zea argued that there were always things she could learn from them. 

And ‘them’ for her this year was Pierre Gasly and Antonio Giovinazzi. They’d both been the favourite contender for the 2016 GP2 Champion title, but Zea was leaning more towards Gasly, who had just secured his win in Hungary. Problem was; the Frenchman belonged to the Bulls. Yikes.

“That’s not fair, you know,” Zea nudged Elijah’s shoulder. “He’s hot. Like, hot.” 

The two watched from the pit lane as the Frenchman indulged himself in victory. Half of his body soaked in fresh champagne just honestly added to his hotness it was almost indecent.

“Which one is he again? Left? Right?”

“Left,” Zea quickly nodded, not leaving her eyes off the winner. 

“Good. You can have the Ratatouille. Leave the Pasta for me.”

The laugh that came out from Zea was crispy and delightful. She was even clapping like a seal.

Thank goodness for Elijah and his foul mouth. She could always talk about these things openly with him to ease her nerves. Irza and her two older brothers would only end up teasing her, and her little sister was—she deemed—too young to understand, despite their only four years of age gap. 

“Look, your Ratatouille is heading this way.”

“Yeah, I know—SHIT! WHAT?! He’s heading this way. Why is he heading this way?! Oh my God, he must’ve caught me looking at him! Eli, quick! Hide me!”

But it was too late. Pierre Gasly was already towering in front of her, watching her frantically flailing her arms in the air as she attempted to hide half of herself behind Elijah.

And Elijah decided it was time to be an arse.

In one quick move, he shifted his feet and shoved Zea out front before giving her a wink and running his way to the Audi garage. 

That damn bastard.

“Hey, hot stuff,” Zea waved her hand, “You are Pierre Gasly. I am Zea.” Anyone would like to hand her the award for Best at Embarrassing Herself?

Pierre tried to stifle his chuckle as he watched her shut her eyes, visibly regretting what she had just said before the colour on her face changed to light pink.

“Hello, ‘I am Zea’. I am Pierre, the hot stuff.”

The two looked at each other before finally laughing at their dumb exchange. Well, that was one way to shut off all the budding awkwardness. 

“I actually want to congratulate you for the pole position. I watched the Quali yesterday. I don’t know how you did that.” Pierre looked impressed. One thing that would never fail to bring Zea’s spirit back up was receiving genuine acknowledgment of her race craft from fellow drivers. Especially from someone as hot as Pierre Gasly.

“Oh? Geez, thanks! So you came here because you wanted to say that, not because you caught me staring at you…”

“So you were looking at me? I had my doubts, but—“

“—I was looking at the winner of the race. It just happens to be you.”

Pierre gave her that look—the ‘rea~lly?’ look, with his eyebrows up and a little smirk riding the corner of his mouth. Zea frowned, trying to hide her embarrassment. 

“Please pretend I didn’t say that,” Zea made a dismissive wave with her hand, “and congratulations on winning. Do you want a fist bump?” she quickly said as she watched Pierre fixing his hair—still wet from the champagne—over his Red Bull cap. “I’d rather have kisses on the cheek, but a fist bump works, too,” he said as he offered up his fist with a cheeky smile. 

“Holy God, you are a major flirt.” That came out almost automatically from Zea. “Thank goodness you have that handsome face of yours,” she continued, bumping her fist with Pierre. 

Pierre sported another smile. A really hot one, might she add. 

“Good. So you do think I’m handsome.”

That got Zea’s mouth open in shock. She was about to accuse him of being cocky before she captured tinges of a blush forming upon his pale cheeks. She chuckled, returning to her composed self. Two can play this game. 

“Well, ‘handsome Pierre’, I better go to my garage and get myself race-ready. See you around.”

“Good luck!” he almost had to yell that out since Zea just ran away after saying that.

Zea turned her head, smiling her thanks at him before sprinting to the Audi garage. She didn’t even realise she’d run past Daniel, who’d raised his arm to greet her. He’d been wanting to call out to her but didn’t out of respect for the Frenchman. 

“Didn’t know she knew Gasly,” Daniel muttered as he strode his way to Pierre. “You two know each other?”

“Now we do.” Pierre returned Daniel’s fist bump. 

“Oh.” Daniel could’ve sworn he saw the flush in Pierre’s cheeks as he smiled, looking in Zea’s direction. Must’ve been the fatigue from the race, right?

Daniel shook his head. “Congratulations on your win, mate! Great race!”

“Already there, Sinaga lining up in pole position, and she is gonna have to wait a very long time for the rest to catch up. So those breaks, those tyres, you were talking about, Martin, getting ever colder by the second!”

“Ace to Cap, T-Square cover.” Zea was indeed concerned about her tyres’ temperature. She went too quickly for the formation lap, which might impede her from having a good start if her tyres’ temperature dropped unnecessarily from waiting for the others.

“Ah, radio! Sinaga is going all cryptic again! Wonder what T-Square meant there. Although Audi can’t respond to her before the race begins, that’s the rule.”

“Audi has been very subtle with their radio exchange this season, yes. Could it be their way to eliminate possible threats from overhearing? I heard Zea is very much involved in their strategy building.”

“But haven’t they gone up in the Constructors’ Standing? They shouldn’t be too incriminated with quid now.”

“Indeed, they have this season, but I reckon they still have a long way up to catch up with the Bulls, Mercs and Ferrari for capital assets. You know the competition is high for that position.”

“I suppose you are right. And now we have Ricciardo, winner from 4th of the grid back in 2014; followed by Lewis Hamilton; he’s won 4 times here, and just ahead of him, Rosberg on the first line had never won the Prix here. Zea Sinaga on Pole had never been on Podium in Hungary, and this also makes it her first pole start in Formula One this afternoon.”

Zea cracked her fingers to loosen them up before placing her hand back on the steering wheel. 

“Okay, buddy. It’s just you and me now. Let’s put ‘em all to sleep,” she whispered softly to the car. It was part of her ritual just seconds before the lights were out. 

“And we’re all set to go here in Hungaroring. AND IT’S LIGHTS OUT, AND AWAY WE GO!”

“Sinaga gets away really well, and she and Rosberg making the run now down towards turn 1. Right behind them, Vettel’s waiting, Ricciardo’s waiting, Verstappen on the inside, and around the outside goes Daniel Ricciardo!”

“Sinaga takes the lead ahead of Ricciardo, Rosberg down to third, he’s been pressurised now by Max Verstappen and Lewis Hamilton, with Sebastian Vettel ahead of Alonso!”

“Sinaga into turn 3, Hamilton claims second place, passing his teammate and the Red Bull, but the Red Bull is not giving up!”

“Cap to Ace. Order Ham, Ric, Ros, Ver, Vet. Catching up at one-tenth.”

“Copy that, Cap.”

“Whoa! Wonderful skills were displayed in Sector 1 alone; the top six were fighting it out there. I really thought the Mercedes boys were gonna be leading this by now, but the Audi girl has placed her car beautifully there!”

Astounding opening for the Hungarian Grand Prix. Not the Bulls, the Mercs, the red devils of Ferrari, nor the dark horse Audi; none were willing to give up the number one spot.

It was down to lap fourteen when Sebastian was the first of the front runners to pit, and then the Red Bulls and the Mercedes boys followed the lap after. 

“Sinaga is the only one with used Super-soft now! Is she doing early tyre management to keep her position?”

“I wouldn’t say that. She’s a tad too focused on managing her gap; I’m actually scared for her pace. She’s only leading by one second ahead of Lewis.”

“Lewis, Sinaga reports on increasing gap after turn 11. And box after that lap,” Peter ‘Bono’ Bonnington, Lewis’ race engineer, said over the radio.

“You guys manage to crack her code?”

“She said it in full sentences. In English.”

“Yeah, I don’t believe her,” Daniel responded over the radio after Simon relayed the same message Bono did. 

“We can’t risk it, Dan.”

“Well can she do that? Gap increase?” Daniel turned his steering wheel to defend himself as he saw Rosberg peeking in his side mirror.

“We think she wants to exhaust her tyres and then pit.”

“I’ll try catching up.”

Red Bull number three rushed to close the gap with the Mercedes in front of him to capitalise on DRS.

“Ok, Daniel. Doing a good job, mate. You are two seconds quicker than Rosberg at the moment, and you are six seconds behind Lewis.”

“So Lewis, just need to pick up pace a little bit. Sinaga is really pitting.”

“I’m working on it.”

“Sinaga finally pitted for her second stint. Will Lewis finally take over the lead?”

“…NO! Lewis looks to be struggling with pace, with Ricciardo closing in and Sinaga regaining her lead! Just with less than a 1-second gap between Sinaga and Lewis! Sinaga is really putting her fresh Soft at work!”

“I’m struggling for pace.” Lewis exhaled hard as he felt his car lose its front grip.

“Okay, Lewis. So Ricciardo’s about to get onto the back of the train, so we really need to open this gap up.”

Lewis groaned. “Well, I’m driving to the best of my ability on these tyres.”

“Okay, copy that, Lewis. If these cars bunch up, then we’ll be bringing Nico in first.”

“Well, why would they do that? It’s not like I’m driving slow; I’m trying.”

“Yeah, Lewis. Just the risk we’re putting the win in jeopardy. We need to catch up with Sinaga.”

And then it was lap forty.

Almost too collectedly, Zea turned her car to enter the pit lane after building a decent gap against Lewis. 

“Lewis, Sinaga turns into the pit lane.”

“What?! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“No, there wasn’t any radio. You need to pick up pace.”

“Sinaga into the pit lane! What is this? There was no communication!  Oh no! Was it a mistake? Is this gonna be a repeat akin to Ricciardo’s nightmare in Monaco?! Would her team even be ready?! THEY ARE READY! What a turn of situation!”

“Lewis is currently in the lead, but I’m afraid with his used Softs, it’s only a matter of time before Sinaga comes back… AND SHE REGAINS THE LEAD!”

“Someone wants to tell me what the hell was that?” Daniel cried over the radio.

“Sorry, Daniel, we monitored her radio, but there was no communication. Keep calm. You’re only four seconds behind Lewis; you’re doing a good job keeping Rosberg out of your DRS zone.”

“Fuck.” Daniel knew he could be up to P2 with Lewis in P1 if only they knew Zea would pit there. 

“Cap to Ace. Gap 2.0. Order Ham, Ric, Ros, Vet, Ver, Kimi.”

“Copy that. Keep gap posted.”

“Roger that, Ace.”

With only twenty laps left, it was down to tyre management.

Zea took a heavy breath as Esteban Gutierrez, for whatever reason—perhaps he couldn’t see her—positioned his car in front of her, playing defensively.

“Sinaga has been held up by Gutierrez, and Hamilton looks to pounce and cuts the deficit to 0.6 seconds! And we have radio from Sinaga.”

“Gap to Ham down to sixth-tenth. Gutierrez should be booked.”

“Copy that.”

“Well, doesn’t she sound unaffected?”

“Ah, she never sounded affected over her radios, I reckon, always calm; plus point for her engineers, might I add. And message from Race Control; Gutierrez is being investigated for ignoring blue flags on that Sinaga incident.”

“And we have here Raikkonen pushing well on his new Super-softs, is now on the rear of Verstappen in the battle for sixth place.”

“Raikkonen gained a whole second on Verstappen on the last lap and is sizing the teenager up!”

“Message from Race Control; Gutierrez has been given a five-second penalty for ignoring blue flags! And we have radio from Raikkonen.”

“He moved right and then back to left when I was going there! I took my f****** front wing off!”the Finn roared his outrage.

“Copy, copy. Keep pushing on the way in.”

“Looks like Verstappen moved twice to block Raikkonen at turn two!”

“Will he be booked for possible penalty?”

“We’ll have to see that.”

“Up ahead, the cat-and-mouse game continues between Audi, Mercedes and Red Bull, with the gap falling by four-tenths between Sinaga and Hamilton. Now at 2.3 seconds.”

“Ace, Ham is 2 seconds behind.”

“Copy that. Request T-Deg, over.”

“Lewis, Sinaga is being cryptic,” it was Bono who had acted first.

“What did she say?”

“She said ’Deg’; we suspect it may be degradation.”

“So she’s saving tyres, right? What do I do?”

“We must keep pushing, but try to manage tyres as much as possible.”

“I’m trying. Can you check her degradation?”

“Not directly, but her pace hasn’t dropped much. We suspect she might not be saving tyres at all. But she will soon have to, and that’s when we cut.”

“I’ll do my best,” Daniel responded as Simon briefed him on Zea’s radio.

“Okay, just keep calm. Maintain pace.”

“I will. But I’m starting to lose grip; front is acting out,” he groaned soon. 

“Copy, Daniel. Maintain pace.”

“We have ten laps to go; current order on top ten—Sinaga, Hamilton, Ricciardo, Rosberg, Vettel, Verstappen, Raikkonen, Alonso, Stevens, and Sainz.”

“Right now, the battles are happening all across the top seven. Hamilton is close to Sinaga after she made a mistake in the final sector. Looks like she’s starting to lose grip there. Rosberg is closing in on Ricciardo for third, and Raikkonen and Verstappen continue to hassle Vettel for fifth!”

Tense was the atmosphere in the Audi garage. Irza, who just came in, immediately sat next to Marq, propping the radio over his ears. “Did she pit at 40?”

Marq nodded, concern visible in his eyes.

“How much is she losing grip?”

“Degradation up to 47% now.” Marq was on the edge of his seat. 

It wasn’t just Marq, but everyone was mirroring his tension. Jack couldn’t let his eyes off the monitor. Vishal Robert, Zea’s main mechanic, tapped his feet repeatedly, and Alby’s breathing was heavy.

“Well,” Irza clapped his hand together. “Let’s brace ourselves, then.”

“Into the closing stage now of a cagey but intriguing race in Hungary! We have three laps remaining! Will Sinaga keep her lead and come out victorious?!”

“Sinaga is slowing down! Is it engine problem?! Her three previous DNFs were due to engine problems! Will her race ends in another DNF?!”

“I can see Zea. Has she slowed down?” Daniel implored over the radio.

“Is she losing power? Bono, is she losing power?” Lewis followed.

“What is happening?! I can see slight smoke coming from the back of Sinaga’s car! Do we have no radio from Sinaga?!”

“Push Lewis! Push!”

“We don’t know what’s happening; just push Daniel!”

Zea glanced at her wing mirrors after downshifting as she continued her throttle-break interval, biasing her breaks to the rear to forcefully spin her tyres. She chuckled, knowing what she was about to do would undoubtedly piss her colleagues off—if she made it, that is. 

But this was her grand finale in today’s act of strategy masterclass. It was a gamble, nonetheless, because she was dangerously losing grip after pitting too early in lap forty, and this was the only way she could cross the chequered flag before the other two catch her up with DRS.

“Sinaga is losing her pace? Is she losing her pace? We have absolutely no confirmation from Audi! And both Ricciardo and Hamilton are charging straight ahead!”

“Oh my goodness! This has turned into a close battle for the top three between Sinaga, Hamilton, and Ricciardo! Listen to that cheer as the final battle between Audi, Mercedes and Red Bull is on!”

“It is now down to who could make use of the DRS first to catch—WHAT IS SINAGA DOING?!”

A deep breath from Zea, eyes on her rear mirrors, mentally calculating her move.

And as soon as Lewis and Daniel were just half-tenth before DRS would be available for them against herself, she put her left hand up as her right foot butchered down on the throttle.

Adios, motherfuckers.

“…S-s-she waved to both Hamilton and Ricciardo! Before quite literally launching over to cross the chequered flag! AND SINAGA WINS THE HUNGARIAN GRAND PRIX! It’s Audi who snatch the win!”

“She wasn’t losing power! She was not losing power! She was warming—or should I say heating?!— up her rear tyres to gain enough momentum!”

“My oh my, I have no doubt that would certainly piss both the Red Bull and Mercedes! Although I believe that was a gamble! One thing for sure here is Sinaga really was losing grip there, so she had to pull off that move!”

“What a move, though! What a move! That was brave! She could’ve lost her tyres there!”

“But she didn’t! I have to say she really has mastered her car, hasn’t she?!”

“Man, she’s so annoying. She is so annoying.” Crestfallen was beyond what Lewis felt when he passed the chequered flag in less than one-tenth of a second after the Audi lady. 

“Damn her! Seriously.” Daniel was also not less happy as he felt like he’d just been played, especially with that last wave of her hand.

In the Audi garage, however, was a silent celebration. It was quite literally just everyone finally letting out a long, relieved breath after unconsciously holding it as they watched Zea pull that last crazy gamble of a stunt.

“Z, congratulations.” Marq chimed, sounding exhausted.

On the other line of the radio, Zea chuckled softly. “Thank you, Marq. What a ride, huh?”

“Yeah, you psycho,”the reply came fast and gritty.“What if something went wrong?”

“It was a calculated move, and nothing bad happened. Rest easy, Marq… and thank you for trusting me. Really.”

⬅️ Chapter 02 | MASTERLIST | Chapter 04 ➡️

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That was loooong. I'm kinda happy with how the race bit turned out so I hope it's nice! And also, I’m kinda bothered by how I wrote the flashbacks, it’s like should I put them in italics or not but I decided on not. But do let me know if it gets confusing 👉🏻👈🏻

__________

Tag list:

@scotlynaurora @squidwardsluverxx

[saltyshrimpzz]

Okay, now I'm super curious about your OC Sam, her relationship with her uncle, and her parents! Care to tell a bit about what you thought up about her? :D

I would love too! 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

So Sam is the daughter of Cassie Kolchek, who is married to Daniel Kolchek. She’s the second oldest next to her 4 other siblings.

The siblings are:

Isabella Kolchek (oldest, married and has a son)

Cassie Kolchek (second oldest, married and has twins)

Jason Kolchek (middle child, not married, no children)

Clarissa Kolchek (second youngest not married, no children)

Abigail Kolchek (youngest not married, no children)

Daniel is a lawyer working in the same hospital as his wife who is a doctor there. She always wanted a better life for herself and her family due to their abusive father. She practically raised her siblings together with Isabella and later Jason when he got older. When she found out that she was getting twins, she offered Jason to come with her and be there for his niece and nephew. He agreed.

Daniel comes from Italy, hence why her redneck father wasn’t really happy about the wedding. Both love their children dearly. Sam and Sean. Sam is the older one being born 10min earlier then her brother. Jason loves his niece and nephew but always had his focus more on her due to her shyness. He helped her getting into sports and that’s why she started doing lifts and more strength related trainings.

She’s socially awkward, which is easily seen on how she handles other people while her brother is a social butterfly. Sam didn’t know what to do after Jason left for the marines and decided that she would try to become one herself when she became 17. she did do the training, wanting to become a sniper. She and 3 other woman joined the training and she got in with her 18. birthday on the 25.10.2001. after completing her training with the best results she got enlisted to an mission to keep a ghost team safe from high above, oblivious that one of the ghost was Eric Kings younger sister, Enya Elizabeth King, who would later become her best friend. She managed to safe Enya from an enemy soldiers with an once-in-a-lifetime-shot, which earned her the Titel "Highsight Hero".

It was Enya who proposed Miller to take her for the mission in Iraq. She didn’t know her uncle would be there, but she was more then happy to see him just as he was excited to have her officially in his team, Mailman 2-1.

Her callsign is Pathfinder.

She’s 1,80m and 20 years old when going to Iraq. Her blood type is AB+, she had honeybrown eyes and light skin littered in freckles and moles.

Little fact: when she blushs it reaches to her shoulders. Her hair is a coppery brown tone and wavy.

Hope you enjoy this little inside 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

🏅Being Team Japan's Manager 🏅

💔Relationship Troubles with Bokuto 💗

Bokuto Kōtarō featuring Team Japan x Female Manager

Warnings: Swearing, Bokuto being a complete jerk, petname, angst to fluff, suggestive at the end 🙃

AN: Its a very Bokuto centered day 🥰This is an Anon request! I may have gotten a tiny bit carried away with this one. I also cried alot 🥲 I'm emotional when it comes to our boys 🥺 I'm really proud of this one ❤

🌠 Please Like, Reblog and/or Share to help support my writing 🌠

Oof this one is going to make me cry 😢

I already know it

And the fact that it's with our resident himbo 🥺

But it must be done and who else to deliver but yours truly 🤗

Your relationship with Bokuto has been going on for about 6 months now

You started out of friends when you joined Team Japan as their resident hotty 🔥 and manager 💅🏼

Honestly, Team Japan adores you YN

You lucky bitch 😒

But there was always something special about Bokuto

Pls he's such a bubbly Boi I just can't even 😫

Bokuto took an instant liking to you and you to him

Did he annoy you? Absolutely 💯

Did you find him attractive as all hell? Abso-FREAKING-lutely 🙌🏻

Bokuto is like what? 6'3" timeskip 👀

Lawd girl of you don't I will

N E WAYS, you two grew extremely close

Daily practices and nightly walks home

Consistent "HEY HEY HEY YN WATCH THIS!"

Giant Bear hugs and headpats

You would grab coffee or ever dinner sometimes

Of course, the other three idiots guys would accompany you occasionally as well

When Bokuto finally asked you out, it was very Bokuto-style

Super spontaneous and loud

Lile he literally walked you to your apartment door, was about to leave, turned around and shouted

"YN WILL YOU GO OUT WITH ME?"- Bokuto, zero chill

"Ko- we just went out..."- You, extremely confused

"No I mean, like a date"- Bokuto 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

YN of you take longer than a single second to answer this imma come there and smack you 🤚🏻

Someone summon Iwaizumi for me- 🏐

"Of course I will Kotaro"- You 🥺🤗

Good girl Yn ☺️

Please Bokuto is so excited he will pick you up and spin you around 🥰

God I love that for you 😐

Me, a jealous bish

Thus begins the ship know as BokuYN

The next few months go by quickly

Your relationship is tugging along and everything is going well

Unfortunately, the storm clouds are moving in YN 😔⛈️

And all good things can't last

It starts out small, everyone is so stressed with the Olympics coming up

Bokuto especially

Imagine all the pressure to be perfect and score points 😪 that has got to be so rough

Bokuto starts staying late for practice and heading home with you less frequently

You start eating dinner alone and he starts coming home later and later ☹️

One morning, you wake up and Bokuto isn't next to you

You try calling him but nothing

You show up to the gym and find him there with Kageyama, Atsumu and Hinata

You are confused as to what is going on 🤨

Like rightfully so

I mean what did they just sleep on the bleachers the night before?

I wouldn't put it past them honestly 😒

You approach them and ask what's going on

Atsumu is setting for Bokuto and he narrowly misses a line shot

"God dammit! Send up another one"- Bokuto, furious and sweating 😓

"Hey guys- have you been practicing all night?"- you, curious

"Nah we quit at 9 last night"- Kageyama getting a drink of water

Ok now your really confused 🤚🏻

You look at Bokuto who is setting up for another spike

"Ko you didn't come home last night"- you

He ignores you, spiking the ball

Ok then- 😐

Let's try this again shall we 🙃

"Kotaro did you hear me?"- you, now standing with your hands on your hips

Ope- someone's in trouble 😶

Atsumu, Hinata and Kags are now looking from you to Bokuto 👀

"I stayed with Hinata last night"- Bokuto, walking away from you, going to his phone and scrolling

Clearly his phone is working 😑

That's suspicious 🤨 that's weird

"And why would you do that?"- you, obviously upset

"Because I felt like it"- Bokuto

Not to be toxic here but that's not an answer dude 😒

"Ok but why- I texted you and you never got back to me. And it's clear your phone is fine since your looking at it right now"- YN, hands now in the air, just ready to go

"Maybe I just needed some fucking space YN"- Bokuto

Please now Aran, Yaku, Komori, Sakusa, Habuka,Ushijima,Hyakuzawa, amd Iwaizumi are all on the gym 🤚🏻

Silently observing 👀

"Are you serious right now? What did I do Ko?"- you, walking towards him

"YN I just need some fucking space! You're around me constantly and I can't fucking concentrate on these damn Olympics with you breathing down my neck all the time! Like all you ever do is talk talk talk and I'm so fucking sick of it! Just fucking leave me alone! If you did anything for this team besides stand around, maybe you'd understand my stress! But you always have to come first YN and Im fucking DONE!"- Bokuto, finally snapping

Oh he's pissed

Like fuming at you 😡😤

It's honestly so embarrassing he would say such things in front of everyone

You face heats and your fists tighten-

You don't even know what to do, so-

You just look up at him, tears filling your eyes

Ok everyone just breath ok

I mean, I'm crying 🥺

You know that feeling when your stomach just drops and you feel almost sick

That's what's happening now

The tears are welling up and it's about to happen

There is no stopping that crying YN and you shouldn't!

Bokuto essentially took your heart, threw it on the ground and stomped all over it

Nah he rolled over it with a steam roller and fed it through a wood chipper 😬

He broke you 😔

No matter how you try, a brave face isn't coming

So you do what you must

"Fine Bokuto. You don't want me bothering you anymore. Than consider me gone"- You, turning to walk out of the gym, tears flowing, past the other members of the team

Everyone is stunned 😲 and honestly same

Nobody expected this of Bokuto, like he's literally the last one I'd expect to do this

But the pressure was mounting and unfortunately YN, you were the catalyst

The gym is silent as Bokuto sets his water down, turning to face Atsumu

"Toss another one"- Bokuto, getting into place

Please these guys are PISSED and so confused 😕

"What the fuck was that-" Atsumu, the first to speak

As much as I bully this man, istg he's loyal as fuck

And while he loves Bokuto like a brother, he also loves you

"Bokuto that was so harsh man"- Habuka

"It needed to be said. She's been so clingy and needy. The Olympics are coming up and I need to practice"- Bokuto, starting to realize that he's the total ass in this situation but still holding face

He's a man 🙄😒

"You're an dumbass Bokuto"- Iwaizumi, turning to go and find you

"Bokuto sit down. You're done for today"- Aran

"The fuck I am-"

"The fuck you are because I said so"- Aran

Please Aran can be so fucking scary 😨

Bokuto will get right in his face

"Hey cool it you two!"- Hyakuzawa

"Bokuto- chill man"- Kageyama pulling him back

Hoshiumi finally comes in the gym

"Hey what's wrong with YN. I saw her leaving and she was crying"- Hoshiumi

It's all starting to sink in now-

"FUCK-" Bokuto, throwing his waterbottle against the wall and storming out

Everyone is just exhausted and it's showing

"Should we go after him?"- Hyakuzawa, the mediator of the group

"I think we should call Akaashi- this is over our heads"- Aran, leaving to get his phone and make the call

Meanwhile, you are now sitting on a bench, full on ugly crying

Snot down the face, tears everywhere, can't catch your breath BAWLING

🤚🏻 say less YN your heartbroken and its ok to cry 💔

Please I'm crying writing this and it's fiction 😭

"Hey YN- are you ok?"- Iwaizumi, coming to sit next to you

"No- no Hajime I'm not ok"- you, sucking in breath and trying to calm down

Spoiler alert: it's not working

"I think I need to go home Haji"- you

"You do that YN. And hey, it will be ok... I promise. I'll talk to him"- Iwaizumi

"Hajime, you heard him. He doesn't want me so give me one good reason why I should stay?"- you, hugging yourself and crying

"YN he's under a lot of stress. He shouldn't have said those things. You know he cares about you"- Iwaizumi, trying to save this

"YN please just listen-" I was our freaking savior

"Hajime, if he cared he wouldn't have said those things. If he cared, he would have avoided my texts and calls. He embarrassed me in there. You don't do that to someone you care about"- you, making an excellent point

"I'll see you later Haji. Thanks for being here"

You try and force a smile as tears stream down your face

Upon arriving at your apartment, you do nothing but mope

You say nothing more as you turn and walk away

You cry the entire way home, trying to hide your face from those around you

Honestly YN as you should 💅🏼

I'm like so mad at Bokuto right now you have no idea 🤬 you crawl into bed, covering yourself up and cry like there's no tomorrow

Back at the gym, Bokuto is sitting in the locker room with a towel hanging over his head

That bitchy voice inside your head telling you that everything was a lie and you were never good enough for Bokuto

You eventually manage to cry yourself to sleep 😔

He knows he fucked up... like MAJORLY fucked up

The stress of the Olympics had been weighing on our poor owl bby and the fact that he just can't hit his line shots

Iwaizumi comes in and sits next to him

"I fucked up bad"- Bokuto

"Yeah you fucking did asshole"- Iwaizumi not even beating around the bush

"Shit"- Bokuto, throwing his towel against the locker

"You need to chill out Bokuto. Your stress isn't helping anything right now. You said some pretty mean stuff to YN and she's really hurt"- Iwaizumi

"Did she leave?"- Bokuto

"Yeah- she went home"- Iwaizumi

"Fuck I have to talk to her-" Bokuto standing, fists clenched

"Hold up there cowboy. Give her some space man. You broke her heart dude. It's not going to be an easy fix. Wait a day, let it rest"- Iwaizumi

As much as he hated to do it, Bokuto let it rest

He went to his apartment, one he spent very little time in nowadays and tried to relax 😔

The next day, he arrived early to try and catch you

Only, you weren't there 😞

"Where's YN?"- Bokuto to Hoshiumi

"She didn't come in today. She called and told Aran she's taking personal time"

"God dammit!"- Bokuto, just about to punch the wall

Thankfully Sakusa is there to stop him

"Bo a broken hand isn't going to help man. You need to chill"- Sakusa

"Come on man, let's practice and then we can talk"- Hinata

"How can I practice without YN? Knowing I fucked up the best thing I ever had"- Bokuto, now a deflated Owl

"Well it's good to finally see you admit how much you care for YN"- Akaashi, with Kuroo at his side

"What are you doing here?"- Bokuto, genuinely confused 🤨

"Aran called me and well Kuroo heard through the grapevine"- Akaashi

Please Kuroo knows all the gossip

These boys talk more than old ladies in church

"Dude what is wrong with you? This isn't like you"- Kuroo

"I've been so stressed and I can't hit my line shots. I've been practicing day and night and nothing feels right"- Bokuto, now hunched over on the bleachers, surrounded by the peanut gallery

"Have you thought thay maybe your practicing too much Bo?"- Kageyama

Seriously he's one to talk 🙄

"I mean, what has YN said about you staying late for practice?"- Akaashi

"I haven't been around much- I've just been so stressed. And I just dont know"- Bokuto

"Well Bokuto, you have to decide what you want to do. If you want to break up with YN, I think you owe her an explanation. She at least deserves that. But if you want to make up with her-" Akaashi

"I DO! I really do! I thought alot last night and YN's been the one consistent good thing in my life. I- I think I love her"- Bokuto

Pls bby you were a jerk but you are breaking my heart 💔😫

"Well then you need to talk to her"- Kuroo

Bokuto knew this and he was so ready

Unfortunately you weren't 🙁

A knock sounded as you drag yourself to the door

The peep hole reveals Bokuto, standing there, hair deflated

You open the door and cross your arms

That's right YN! We are a powerful women and we will show it ✊🏻

"Hey YN, can we talk?"- Bokuto

"That's what we are doing-"

"YN please I'm so sorry- I was a complete asshole and jerk! I know I royally fucked up and god, YN I'm so sorry"- Bokuto

Tears are forming in this man's eyes

But also in yours 😟

"Bokuto-" you

"Ko, you call me Ko"- Bokuto

"Listen, I need time. What you said really hurt me and I'm not ready talk to you let alone see you. I just don't know if I can do this-" please the tears are rolling down your face but you're voice remains strong

"YN- please, just please"- Bokuto, full on crying

"Good night Bokuto"- You, shutting the door and breaking down

Please Bokuto hears you and it KILLS him 😭

He did that to you and he hates himself

The next few days drag

You return to your manager job but you try and steer clear of Bokuto

Unfortunately the team doesn't get that memo 😒

Please they are trying everything possible to get you to back together

You are miserable, Bokuto is EXTRA miserable

"YN can you wrap Bokuto's fingers? I have to do Komori's and Yaku's"- Iwaizumi

"I can do it Iwa" - Kageyama

Please that went right over his head

Iwaizumi is just staring at him like 👁➖️👁

You don't even say anything, just grab the tape and walk to Bokuto

The man towers over you so he is looking down at you while you wrap his fingers

"How are you?"- Bokuto, genuinely concerned

"Fine"- you, trying to just hold it together long enough to wrap those long fingers 👀

"You've lost some weight-" Bokuto

"Yeah I haven't been hungry"- You, unfortunately your voice cracks and you have to bite your lip to keep it from quivering

"YN, baby-" Bokuto, lifting your face up by your chin and looking into your watering eyes

He hates seeing you like this and knowing he caused it 🤧

"Done"- you, looking up and smiling a little, tears filling your eyes before you turn and walk out of the gym

Bokuto watches you go

And so do the others 👀

Nosey bitches 🙄💅🏼

Also side note: screw Iwa for throwing you under the bus like that 🖕🏻 imma Iwa cannon a volleyball at Iwa 😤

It's safe to say practice has been a little... well tense to say the least

Bokuto is getting blocked, missing cross court shots and liners left and right

It hurts you even more to see the man you love hurting

Wait 🤚🏻 love?

Oh hell yeah you love him YN

Just admit it 🙃

But no matter how much you love him, it doesn't take away how he treated you the past few weeks

And how much his words that day hurt

You're at a crossroads Yn and it's not an easy choice

Luckily for you, you have supportive friends

Wait, did I say supportive? I mean Atsumu and Hinata 🤣

But also Aran, Ushijima and Iwaizumi

Ok ok ill stop 😅

They stop by your place unexpectedly with food

"You need to eat"- Atsumu, pushing past you

"Don't think we haven't noticed YN"- Iwaizumi, coming in behind Atsumu

"Wow it's nice to see you too"- you 😐

"Hi YN, how are you doing?"- Aran, giving you a big hug

Please he gives amazing hugs 🥺

"Could be better"- you, now hugging Ushijima and Hinata

"YN how long are you going to do this?"- Atsumu

Aran and Iwaizumi 👉🏻🤦‍♂️🤦

"I hate to admit it YN but Atsumu is right. It's obvious you two love each other"- Ushijima

"Yeah"- you, sinking into the couch

"YN we know what he said hurt and we aren't telling you to just forget about it"- Aran

"But Bokuto is miserable YN. He's not eating, he's spending all his days at the gym and I know he's not sleeping"- Iwaizumi

"YN we know you're just as miserable so why don't you stop this"- Ushijima

"Just talk to him YN"- Hinata

Maybe, just maybe they have a point

You sigh and resign yourself to the fact that as much as Bokuto's words hurt you

You know that the stress of the Olympics and his hard training have worn on him

The next morning, you arrive at 6 am to start work

You hear the sound of balls being spiked against the floor of the gym

You know that sound, the exact sound of a Bokuto serve

You approach the door and peer in, seeing Bokuto tossing up another serve

The ball slams over, hitting right on the end line

"That was a nice shot"- you, walking into the gym

Bokuto stops and looks straight at you, mouth agape

You're talking to him- like actually conversing with him

And you PRAISED HIM 😭😭😭

"Thanks, what are you doing here?"- Bokuto

You giggle a little

Bokuto's heart swells

"Did you forget I come in early to set up?"- you

"Haha yeah I guess- I've just been doing it since- well-" - Bokuto rubbing the back of his neck

"Want me to set for you?"- You, taking a chance

Bokuto's head shots up 😳

"Really?" Please YN he's so happy he's smiling 🙂

"Yeah"- you taking position as Bokuto tosses to you and you set

Perfect cross court shot 😚🤌🏻

"Nice kill Ko!!"- you smiling and looking back at him

Please he's melting YN 😭

"First one I've gotten in all week"- Bokuto, his head down, rubbing his arms

What 😳

"Ko..."

"I'm miserable YN. I'm so fucking miserable. I can't sleep, I can't eat. Every single practice, I miss tosses, get blocked or the ball is out. I- I can't do this"- Bokuto, looking at you as tears roll down his face

"Ko come here"- you, reaching out for him as he comes to your arms for a hug 🫂

Please that man will hug you and never want to let you go

You pull back as he rests his forehead against yours

🥺 please I'm such a sap God WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME

"YN I know I don't deserve you but I need you to know that you are the best thing to ever happen to me. I know I fucked up and God I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry baby. I love you so much and I can't do this without you"- Bokuto, tears flowing

"I love you too Ko"- You, smiling with tears in your eyes

"You- you do?"- Bokuto, now smiling like a freaking idiot 😃

"Yeah I really do"- You

Please 🤚🏻 say less

This man is picking you up and swinging you in the air

"Ko, Jesus Ko calm down"- you, laughing and smiling

"I can't! The most amazing, beautiful women in the world loves me"- Bokuto, finally setting you down

"Yeah I do my ace"- You

Please his lips are on yours before you can finish that sentence 🤚🏻 💋

"Jesus christ get a room will ya"- Atsumu, walking in as you and Bokuto turn around to see the entire team watching you 😳

"Oh my god that was so sweet 🥺"- Yaku about to cry

"Well I'm finally glad to see you guys have worked it out"- Iwaizumi

"Jesus YN way to bring it down to the wire, the Olympics is a month way"- Kageyama, ever the inspiration 🙄

"Aran are you crying?"- Hinata

"No- I just got some dust in my eyes from these volleyballs"- Aran, wiping his eyes and walking away

Sure 😏 "dust from the volleyballs"

"Ok enough of this, let's get to practice"- Aran

"Ummm actually- I uh, I need YN to help me with something"- Bokuto being suspicious 🤔 and dragging you to the door

"Ko, can't it wait until after practice!"- you, being dragged

"Absolutely not"- Bokuto

Please he's on a mission 😏

Iwaizumi just rolls his eyes 🙄

"Jesus christ just be safe ok? We don't need any little Bokuto babies running around"- Iwaizumi

"I make no promises"- Bokuto, pulling you out as you laugh and wave to the team

"Jesus that's got to be some record Emo mode"- Komori

"It lasted 8 days and Bokuto missed 436 spikes"- Atsumu, nonchalantly rattling of statistics

Komori, Yaku and Aran 👉🏻👁👄👁

"You kept track of that?"- Hakuba, honestly impressed

"I'm the setter, it's my job to make sure the players are ok"- Atsumu, shrugging

"Hey now- you aren't the official setter just yet 😑"- Kageyama

"It's only a matter of time"- Atsumu 😏

"😐 the fuck it is- " Kageyama following Atsumu and yelling

"God I wish YN was here"- Aran

"She's probably getting her back blown out as we speak"- Habuka

"Jesus christ 🤦‍♂️ alright get to work"- Iwaizumi, smiling

Side note: you were in fact, getting your back completely blown to pieces 😏

[tonberry-yoda]

Anooo👉🏻👈🏻 I was wondering if I could request hcs for Sero with a shy and introvert artist reader? Yk something where he gets a liking to her and then he tries to get closer to her or smthn. Ik this sounds like a lame thing to ask but I just can’t help but think that our tape boy gets along pretty well with shy ppl

I hope I didn’t come at a bad timing

Oh my goodness! Hi anon!!! This is my first request, so I am super excited! This is definitely not a lame thing to ask and definitely not bad timing, I really love it! So with that, let's get going! I hope you like it, anon!! <3 Thank you so so much!!!

Headcanons with a shy and introvert artist reader - Hanta Sero

Pairing - Hanta Sero x f!reader

Warnings - none!

Word Count - 455

Notes - again, thank you for the request, anon! I hope you have a wonderful day, lovely! <;3 also, italics in quotations means whispering!

And don’t forget, REQUESTS ARE OPEN! So if you want to request any writing, please don’t hesitate to ask, but please read my pinned post before requesting! Please enjoy!! Don’t forget to stay hydrated! <3

Starting off strong, I think Sero would first interact with her by walking by her desk and taking a double take at her artwork. "Holy cow! You made this?!" She would quickly take it away, hugging her sketchbook. "Uh... yeah." "That's super good!!!" "Th-Thanks." "Of course!" And just like that, he would be gone. He would know she's shy, she is very famous in the class for being reserved and to herself.

I think Sero would take any chance he could after that to talk to her. He honestly just wanted to see more of her art, but after a while, he ended up really liking her for who she was. He would team up with her on missions, sit next to her during lunch, ask her to hang out with him and his friends whenever he could. He would try anything just to talk to her. He thinks it's because he was intrigued by how shy she was. The way she would tuck her hair behind her ear when she was alone, but would hide her face in front of others. She was the complete opposite of him, but that's what made him like her more.

But just because he was sitting next to her during lunch or inviting her places didn't really mean they talked. She was still very shy, even towards Sero. He wanted to crack her somehow. Make her laugh, but he couldn't think of anything. He even thought about giving up at one point, but he couldn't stop thinking about her.

"Sero?" Sero turned towards her, confused. "Y-Yeah?" "U-Um... do you have a pen I could borrow? All I have is pencils." Sero quickly dug in his bag, his face turning bright red. "Uh... yeah. Here you go." She smiled at him and tucked her hair behind her ear, making Sero's face go a dark shade of crimson. She was growing closer to him this whole time and he didn't even notice.

His favorite part about her after they grow closer had to be her laugh. It was rare that it happened, but ever since the pen incident, they became thick as thieves. She was still shy and very reserved around him, but more willing to press close to him while sitting together and show him her art. She had even asked to draw him while he was training. And being as shy as she was, she was the first one of the two of them to make a move, even if it was a small one. They were on a walk around the UA campus and Sero felt her hand slide into his.

The shy quiet girl she was known for was now with the loudest, most extroverted guy.

[nejibaby]

Hiiii 👋🏻 idk if you’re taking requests and stuff but... as a fellow Kenma simp, what are your thoughts on Kenma wanting to hold your hand (and vice-versa)? 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 i feel like i couldn’t execute it properly without crying too much kahit na fluff siya sorry 🙈💔

Hi Ate! Normally I’d say no thoughts head empty but with Kenma that isn’t true!!! I might have missed a couple of hours of sleep because I can’t keep this out of my mind ahdhhshaa so here’s a scenario of sorts about holding Kenma’s hands 🥺🥺🥺 i’m softttt

Word Count: 0.9k

Holding Hands with Kenma

The first time you held Kenma’s hand wasn’t intentional. It was a mindless act, a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing. Therefore you were completely oblivious to his reaction.

It was when you were both about to cross the road — the countdown timer of the pedestrian traffic light was near its end, so you hastily grabbed Kenma’s hand and tugged him to run with you.

Normally, you’d keep up with his slow pace when walking, but with the both of you running late, you’re left with no choice but to do this.

Your eyes were looking straight at the timer, and you’re unaware of the way Kenma’s eyes widened ever so slightly at your touch. His pulse quickened instantaneously and he could feel himself heating up, flustered with the way your hand held his tightly (in public at that!)

Despite that and the fluttery feeling in his stomach, he doesn’t — no — he couldn’t look away from your clasped hands.

He wouldn’t tell you that he liked the way your hand fits in his. He liked it a little too much to the point that he doesn’t even want to let go.

And for a moment none of you did, but then the wind blew harshly and you had to drop his hand to fix your hair. Quite frankly, he was disappointed.

Kenma was tempted to take it back. He wanted to feel the warmth from your hand again, and in turn, the unfamiliar warmth that blossomed inside of him. But he hesitated for a second, and in that second Kuroo wedged himself between the two of you. And just like that, the opportunity was gone.

Maybe next time, he thought, next time he’d be the one to initiate the touch.

And initiate it he did, except it wasn’t how he imagined it to be.

You’re sitting beside him, playing with his POP, while he mindlessly scrolled through his phone.

You’re sighing loudly, sulking from being unable to beat some character in the game. You turned to Kenma, asking him to help you or at least teach you some attack combinations that would help you win.

He didn’t even think twice when he put his phone down and he snaked his arms around you. He placed his hands over yours, and he guided your fingers on which buttons to press.

His touch was gentle and soft, a contrast to the way you usually aggressively press the buttons on the console.

And since a game is involved, Kenma is too focused on it to notice the position you’re both in.

And all you could ever think is how he’s too close.

Too close, too close, too close.

Because of his proximity, you’re afraid that he’d hear how your heart is wildly pounding in your chest.

You were vaguely aware of the tips he was mumbling, only nodding your head when he looked at you to check if you’re listening.

But you weren’t listening because how can you when you’re that close to Kenma? How can you listen when his hands were on yours? Even if it’s only because he’s helping you play a game.

And when you won the game, your moment with him came to an end as well.

And all you could do was pout when he retracted his arms.

The second time you held Kenma’s hands was when you were having dinner with the Nekoma volleyball team.

You were seated right beside him at the end of the table.

For some reason, your presence was overwhelming him to the point where he has given up on playing some game on his phone because he kept on losing.

You were distracting him, even if you weren’t really doing anything. And he doesn’t know if it was because of the way you were dressed, where only a single word pops into his mind to describe you: gorgeous.

Or maybe it’s the way your voice reached his ears, sounding so sweet and lovely.

Maybe it’s the way you laughed so freely that it elicited a small smile from his lips as well.

But for Kenma, the reason doesn’t really matter. All he knows is that it’s only you who’s in his mind right then. And all he wants is to hold you close.

He wondered if you were thinking of him as well or if you were aware of your effect on him. Although a huge part of him doubted it as you were too engrossed with your conversation with Kuroo.

But that’s where Kenma was wrong. He was in fact in your mind. You noticed that he wasn’t quite himself. He was zoning out most of the time and he kept playing with his hands.

You were having a certain urge to hold his hand and ask if he’s okay. But you were worried he’d pull away or brush you off.

And yet you moved past your inhibitions when you noticed he was clenching his hands right under the table.

You reached for his hand and rubbed circles on it. And Kenma jumped at the sudden contact but he instantly melted with your touch.

And when you asked how he was feeling, the team members’ chatters dulled down in Kenma’s ears. He zeroed in on you. You were all he saw and all he heard.

It took you by surprise when Kenma opened up his palm and laced his fingers with yours.

You felt a fire in your stomach that you can’t quite explain, and by the looks of Kenma, you could tell he was feeling the same.

There was like an unspoken agreement that your hands belong with each other. And it’s evident in the way you both refused to let go, even when both of your palms started sweating.

[everythingthemoontouches]

Hey can you tell me about my big three

🥺👉🏻👈🏻❤️

Gemini sun

Capricorn moon

And libra rising

I would really appreciate this 🥺💛

Hiiii

So you have an earth moon sandwiched by air sun and rising.

This could show a person who feels the need to put in long-lasting effort to turn their imaginary castles and ideas into tangible reality. You could be someone whose feelings don't really change much over time. Could be reserved. May love building with your hands.

As a Gemini sun, you could somehow really enjoy use if your hands, gesticulate a lot when you speak. Geminis are witty, sharp, observant and are often touted as being interesting because they're so interested in other people or things. You could be curious. And really enjoy being on stage singing, sharing ideas or stories. Gemini is the sign of collaboration, the marketing executive. The chirpy one in a team that helps get the conversation going. Has a million ideas to share. Knows random facts. Has a bunch if hobbies and likes to try their hands at things. Sharp minds. Could see things as black and white. May enjoy playing devils advocate. Or see the reasoning behind completely opposite spectrums.

Libra rising? Venus ruled first house people usually have a pleasant demeanour at first meeting. Social butterfly. Symmetric face.

This means you'd have a cancer midheaven / 10th house. At work, you're probably the protective one. Momma cub. Someone who wants to create that family work environment. Could be good at Cancer Ian careers.

With your 4th house cap moon you could be really particular about beautiful, well built interiors. Only people that have been vetted against the highest standards are allowed into your inner sanctuary.

I hope this helps. If suggest looking up 4th house moon, your midheaven signs.

Additionally, for romance, Aries dominants might be super drawn to you. You could have a really sexy angry side which you usually try to suppress. Being egoistic is something that you personally believe is an attitude people should not have? The traits of the 7th house sign are the ones we try to hide because we were taught that's not something people like. It's our shadow side. A healthy expression of it is advised.

[knickknacksandallthat]

Has flavors of fall been completely written? And is there a chance you'll post an early chapter just cuz 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

Also are there any other fics you're working on?

Love your work so much! You're probably my favourite author no exaggeration!

Hello Anon! To answer your question first, yes! It has been completely written! (Well...okay, okay...it's mostly written lol. I'm still having fun adding things into the epilogue chapter - but the MAIN plot and chapters have all been written 😉)

Will I post a chapter early? hmm...maybe not early this week BUT...you might get an extra chapter around Christmas. (But shhh...don't tell anyone!) Happy to partake in the tradition of giving this season! 😁 (And happy holidays to anyone who doesn't celebrate Christmas too! Whatever your reason for celebrating or not celebrating this season, I hope you have a wonderful time! ❤️)

And just because you asked so nicely, anon, here's a little sneak peek into works I have in my in-progress list!

1.) 12 Day Program for Courtship - So as promised to anyone who read the 12 Days to Woo a Minyard, this guy is my main work rn. I'm busy outlining and writing to see what shenanigans I can work up between Kevin & Aaron. (And oh man...so far...beautiful amounts of hysterical and cringe...can't wait lol!) The gist rn, though, is that Aaron is torn between going to some medical training program or the *lacrosse training camp the team does each year during the summer. He has 12 days before the deadline is due and has to pick one of them, so Kevin is determined to convince him of which option he should clearly choose. But things aren't as easy as they seem - because Kevin has a rival in Katelyn, who is just as determined to get Aaron to go to the medical training program instead. It's a fight to the finish, with the prize being...lacrosse, right? Because Kevin cares so much about the team and Aaron can't afford to be so far behind. Not because he'd miss Aaron and can't bear the thought of being without him this summer. Not because they've been getting closer lately and Kevin is suddenly feeling strangely attached. Not because his eye starts to twitch whenever he sees Katelyn and Aaron sitting close to one another in the campus coffee shop. Nope. Not at all...

*me forgetting that this au is a No Exy AU, LOL!

2.) The Stray (We'll see if this title sticks) - another Andreil fic set in a universe where Andrew/Neil meet for the first time in an apartment complex and rub each other the wrong way. (No, not that way, get your heads out of the gutters guys! 😉😉) Cue the slow getting to know one another, learning to trust, and a couple of secrets along the way. (And some annoying Riko appearances, booo). I've got some scenes written for this one but holding off so I can focus on #kevaaron. (Completely outlined though).

3.) To Win the Heart of a Prince (Title TBD) - fantasy AU for Andreil this time where Andrew is to be crowned King and must choose a prince for a husband from one of the neighboring kingdoms to form an alliance. Cue lots of angst, trouble from the Moriyamas & Wesninskis, secret identities, romance, and a little background jerejean. (Completely outlined in a fit of inspiration last week LOL)

4.) Roommate AU (Title TBD) - Andreil universe set in college where Neil is kicked out of his childhood home and starts living with Matt, Kevin, Allison, and Andrew. But Neil has never been out on his own before and feels the weight of college, his part-time jobs, and the frequent calls from his father and stepmother slowly crushing him. Good thing he isn't distracted by anything...like his mysterious and slightly odd roommate...who grows more and more interesting by the day. (I have plans for this to be a three-part series, actually, with it mostly outlined).

The above will all be multi-chapter fics, but I might throw in a oneshot here and there along the way. (Depends on how frustrated I'm feeling with my multi-fic at the moment lol!)

And aww, thank you so much as well!! Such a lovely compliment! I'm always so happy to hear someone is enjoying my work, so I so appreciate you reaching out and letting me know! Thank you, anon! 😘❤️🥰 (And I hope something piques your interest above!)

[pink-apollo]

I’m curious to see your take on Roach so would you mind if you write some HCs for him? 👉🏻👈🏻

When I tell you I screamed when I saw your ask, I think my neighbors heard me👀 Like I adore your writing and the fact you wanna ask me??🥺 I- Low key shaking right now

I apologize if this isn’t exactly...I suppose what you expected. It was a bit hard to write for him considering we don’t know a whole lot about him.

Besides that, I hope you like them🥺💕

Random Gary Roach Sanderson headcanons

•Knowing that Roach was freshly out selection, he has a tendency to be a bit fidgety. He wants to do his best and for his team to see that he’s trying, which they do. Which is also one of the many reasons soap took him under his wing, besides realizing how much roach was like his unger self when he was picked for the task force

•Isn’t much of a talker. He’ll try to chip in and give ideas which are always brilliant to ghosts and soaps opinion. They honestly wish Roach would talk more considering he’s always on top of things and thinks easier and less complicated

•Gary isn’t really the best when it comes to people he’s interested in. He’s a ball of anxiety toward somebody who he finds beautiful and is just a fumbling mess around them. He doesn’t want to seem skittish to them and would rather try to be the cool, calm, and collected person he is

•He tends to clear his throat a bit or maybe even scratch the back of his neck because of how worried he is of messing up. He just wants you to like him for who he is

•Although he isn’t deprived of touch, being away from his s/o does make him feel lonely and wish that they were snuggled up next to him rather than lay alone where the other side of the bed is empty

•You best bet that roach and ghost are like brothers. Always hanging out with one another, fooling around, and of course teasing soap. The pair are always together and think alike which some find it a bit scary. Not in a bad way, just surprised of how they work together without a word being said

•Looks up to price like father figure and in some ways Soap as well. They’re always looking out for him and he’s just accepted that he’s the “kid” of the group

•Is the one that Skypes his partner almost every night when everybody else has gone to bed. Was once told to “stop acting like a school boy“ when he was heard laughing. Will even write to his partner if he had the time and can’t skype them. No matter how his day is or was, Gary is always one to check and make sure his s/o is doing okay

•Besides soap, Gary is the only one that has ever seen Simon have a bad day and by bad day, I mean total break down where ghost is completely drained. They don’t mention the incident, but they both know that they are there for one another

•Gary may be quiet, but when it comes to something he’s very passionate about he won’t stop talking. If a friend or s/o is interested in what he likes, grab a seat because he will talk your ear off and show you everything he has of said topic. Probably is that person who played d&d and has all the things for it like books, spell cards, small figurines even

[webangchan]

I hope you guys aren't busy enough for an old follower lol. It's me, lovely moon anon.

Well, I go to church and everything (but I promise I'm respectful and open minded). There's this boy, we've known each other for years, but we weren't that close, we went to the same school, the same classroom and he even dated a friend of mine three or four years ago. Guys, I really like him, I've been liking him for two years and he had no clue about it. I told him about my feelings and I thought "hah, he's going to ignore me completely" he didn't. He said it was too soon to tell something about it and that he always saw me as his dear friend (painful af). He's so kind, beautiful, sweet, and dude, he has tattoos and it's so sexy. Idk if I should wait ('cause he didn't dump me) or if I should move on. I think I'm getting way too dependent on him. I cried because he didn't talk with me properly other day (bro just said "how ya doing" and ignored me for 3 hours), then I ignored him, and then I cried again because he got distant. I've always been mature when I'm liking someone, but when it comes to him... It's so different. And jealousy, omg, I literally NEVER felt jealous before. But everytime he interacts with other girls I get so jealous. Also I stopped writing my skz and yeonjun smuts because I got busy with him 🤡👉🏻👈🏻 we're writing a story together and I wrote a smut, he said it was very good. He's an artist, so I write the spicy stuff and he DRAWS the spicy. We're a good team. I'll try to come here often to interact with you two. I missed you guys. Please, take care of yourselves, eat properly and drink lots of water.

— 🌙

friend, this sounds dangerous! y'all are writing a story together? please be careful to not get further attached; i'd hate for you to get your feelings hurt because then i'd have to beat a dude's ass, and although i have been lifting weights, i'm not quite ready for that level. but it sounds like you've had a lot going on! -daphne