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#I want to talk about this and discover it and understand why
timmyyyturner · 1 day
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Pretty little things: Jason Todd x Fem! Reader
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Jason always noticed the little things. The way your nose scrunched up when you were disgusted, the little shake of your leg when you were nervous, the way you pawed at his arm like a puppy wanting attention, the way you wrapped yourself in a blanket when you were cold and he wasn't there for you to cuddle around him, the little kiss you pressed on his forehead when you thought he was asleep. He loved all of that pretty little things but they're was one thing he favored, the little note you left in his lunch, even when you were upset with him you still gave him a note. It usually went :
Have a good day, baby :) I love you ♡
I'm mad at you >:( but I still love you <3
Some days were different though, like when he couldn't make it on your anniversary or his birthday.
Happy Birthday Baby ☆ I love you, my favorite boy ♡ P.S. Birthday head when you come back?
Happy Anniversary Baby, I love you ♡ P.S. Anniversary sex after work?
Today, however, looking forward to reading your little note discovering there was no note in his lunch bag. He was confused, you'd been doing this for years. Why would you stop today? Jason got up and started packing up.
"Hey Jay, Can you-"
"Nope, going home." Jason stated, walking out the door, getting in his car and driving home, stopping to get you flowers. He opened the door, removing his shoes and walking to your bedroom. "Y/n!" You immediately got out of bed when he stormed in. "Jay, you're early." You smiled before he practically jumped in your arms. "Woah, are you okay?"
"I'm sorry." You were confused. "About?" He started smothering you in kisses. "Jay." You giggled, he stopped, hugging you tightly. "I know you're extremely mad-"
"Mad? No, baby. I'm not mad." You smiled. "You're not?" He pulled away slowly. You shook your head. "No, baby. No, I'm not." He pressed a long needed kiss to your lips. You pulled away to breath. "Wait, Jay. Why'd you think I was mad?" He sighed. "You didn't leave me a note this morning."
"What're you talking about?" You ask with a chuckle. "Those little notes you put in with my lunch." You smile, eyes softening. "I didn't think you care about those I figured you just threw them away." He frowned.
"What? No. I still have the first note." You smiled tearing up. "Jay." You kissed his cheek. "But I don't understand, I did write you a note this morning." You reassured him. "Then where's my note?"
"I don't know, I was in a rush this morning but I remember writing it." You got up, walking to the kitchen, him following you. "I'm sorry, Jay. I forgot to put the note in your lunch bag." He immediately pressed a kiss to your lips, muttering a little "I love you"
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solarisgod · 2 months
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I still do think it's quite interesting that people would fakeclaim plurals who'd discover they have OSDIDD at such a later time of their life when, not only is it normal for people to learn they have it in a great amount of years later, but also OSDDID is meant to be a covert condition that protects the individual / system from negativity and traumas and potential danger. Of course, we wouldn't know if there is someone present who would (co-)front when a distressful event occurs to be the one endure it instead or if someone else has been fronting while """ pretending """ to be this person to avoid them + the system falling into danger. Usually, alters would resurface when they feel safe + comfortable enough to reveal themselves or when the individual suspects they're not alone and engage in things that would create a safe space for them to show up over time. It's unfortunately quite easy and frequent for people to assume people are pluralfaking when they would come out at a later age instead of knowing they would have it this whole time / since childhood, but that is completely not the common case at all.
#ABLEISM CW#///#//#/#𓁹 ༑ ࿐ྂ ⩇⩇ : ⩇⩇ ⚠︎ [ 𝙴𝚇𝙸(𝚂)𝚃 : 𝙶𝙾𝙳 ] * ‹ OOC . ›#𓁹 ༑ ࿐ྂ ⩇⩇ : ⩇⩇ ⚠︎ [ 𝙴𝚇𝙸(𝚂)𝚃 : 𝙶𝙾𝙳 ] * ‹ PLURALITY . ›#[ I'm fine to talk about it I'm okay but ]#[ I discovered I wasn't alone in May 2022 with Sunhound being the ' second ( discovered ) ' alter ]#[ that was around the time when Moon Knight came out in March but is still popularly talked about in May and ]#[ that's like when a lot of newly came out plurals were present and I can see why some people think they could be faking ]#[ because - for some fucking reason - a lot of people think OSDDID is ''' cool ''' and they would ''' want to have mind friends ''' ]#[ and watching this show could prompt this but ]#[ I don't understand why it's so hard for folks to at least try to see that this show represents DID overall well ]#( beside the whole dramaticness to it like the way when Steven and Marc switched )#[ that this show essentially created a space where alters can feel safe and comfortable enough to resurface ]#[ while it provides meaningful and informative details of how DID generally goes for the individual ]#[ to be able to understand their plural symptoms and experiences more ]#[ like my first meeting with my sunmate wasn't even anything dramatic or traumatic ]#[ but I was just minding my own business and I haven't thought of this character who I really adore for like a week ]#[ and suddenly I just heard their voice calling the name of that character as to tell me that's their ( past ) name and ]#[ then few days later when I was going through extreme thoughts + emotions 'cause of Mother's Day ]#[ and that's when they came by more and doing + thinking these things that I found and go ' yeah this is Not Me ' ]#[ since I shared to the dash about me seeing we have OSDD1 - I have lost a LOT of mutuals and received a bunch of hate ]#[ with one who sent us an ask few hours before my birthday basically saying Sunhound isn't real and I'm faking ]#[ even since we came back here April 2023 to this day ; we have been hardblocked by a lot of people and I can't help but think ]#[ it has to do with our plurality if not our DNI criteria but even we did have a Moon Knight writer hardblock us which is. Huh ]#[ but anyways yeah it's completely normal for people - especially in their 20s and even 30s - to later learn they're a plural ]#[ for real. ]
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destinyandcoins · 8 months
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have we talked yet about the possibility that UFOs and every suspected bit of extraterrestrial evidence could actually be originating from the advanced civilizations living in the trenches of the ocean just as bemused and wondering as we are about the world beyond them and reaching out in exploration? because given the fuckoff incomprehensible expanse of ocean floor we've yet to actually study or even really guess at what specifically is down there, I think there's a real possibility there's a complex society of, idk, particularly clever sea slugs and other amalgamations of physical matter like hydrogen and thulium and other shit we've never considered as a viable fundamental building block of life. and the fucking whales are the only living creature with the kind of planet spanning range and intelligence to know there's two complex evolutions of sentient life existing on opposite spheres of reality from each other who would really benefit from learning about the other, but we're both too fucking stupid to understand how whales communicate
#Idk man the ocean fucks me up sometimes#And also I think we're missing entire realities out there just waiting to be discovered#Because we've got such a specific and artificially tunneled view of what we see as reality or as supporting of life#And like. Ghosts and aliens and shit are that seeping into our world. But we don't even have the tools to start understanding#Like we're looking for alien life but we're looking according to OUR understanding of how life works and how life could occur#But that's just based on our own little planet our own little corner of the known universe#And man. There is a whole fuckoff lot of everything else out there in the infinity of the universe and the existence of anything#And we are just not equipped to ever know or understand much of any of it. But god that doesn't stop us trying#Trying to understand and find some way to prove we're not alone or unique in the universe#We have this thing called life and we want to share it with someone something somewhere somewhen#''There's gotta be someone else out there in the universe because I want to experience it with them''#Hm. Many thoughts#But also the Mariana trench is eating the pacific plate at a rate of 3 inches per year???#That's what we're talking about when we say shifting tectonic plates and why islands are moving micro amounts year by year?#The Mariana (and many other) trench(es) are EATING OUR PLANET?? why. Why are we not talking about that more explicitly#I feel like that's a better use of our time than squabbling about what social media we should use now instead of twitter#(None. You should replace Twitter in your life with 2-5 hours per week#of contemplation of how our PLANET IS EATING ITSELF. AND BELCHING UP THE REFUSE IN THE FORM OF VOLCANOS AND MUD VENTS)#Breaking news: my new hobby is geology. Fucking WILD stuff going on over there#Geology tag
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saetoru · 7 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ JUST YOURS — LYNEY.
contents. archon quest spoilers, reader finds out lyney is from the house of the hearth—and all the drama + betrayal that comes from that </3 so big rip </3 but it has a hopeful ending tho !!
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lyney has knocked on your door three times today—you haven’t opened up once. you can’t.
“please,” you can hear his muffled voice, “i just want to talk. will you let me explain?”
magicians must always make their audience believe in the impossible, he’s always told you with that sweet, alluring little smile on his face that makes you hang onto every word of his. he’s right, you think—magicians are simply those who have mastered the art of deception, and lyney is no exception. he’s deceiving you even now, with that broken voice as if he’s the one who’s hurt.
word spreads fast in fontaine—lyney, your sweet, romantic, devoted lyney, is of the house of the hearth. his trial mortifies you at first—but deep down, you know in your heart that lyney is no murderer. and then, in an instant, you’re not so sure anymore when somehow, within less than a day, lady furina is able to uncover more about your boyfriend than you have in months.
lyney is of the house of the hearth. he’s of the fatui.
“i’m sorry,” you hear a thud of his forehead resting against the door, “you’re mad, i know—but let me explain the—”
for the first time all day, you open the door. you’re not sure why—somehow, you need him to know you’re not just mad. you’ve been mad at lyney before, being mad is easy. being mad means he’ll pull a rose from behind your ear and make you smile against your will. being mad means you’ll realize you can’t stay mad at him for long, not when he looks at you like that. being mad is temporary—but this? this feels permanent.
you’re not mad at lyney. you simply can’t trust him anymore, and he needs to know that, needs to understand that he should stay away and never find you again.
you’re glaring at him, staring at the face that has always done nothing but make you smile. you wonder, for a small, doubtful moment, if every smile lyney has ever pulled from you has been built off of pure lies and half truths and withheld information.
you’ve given him every bit of yourself, told him everything there is to tell and then some, let him discover things himself that no one has yet to learn. and lyney, as you learn, is someone you can’t even begin to know, not really—maybe not ever.
“you’re with the fatui,” your voice is cold, but you know he can hear the waver—you hate him for that. for being able to pick you apart when you don’t know the first thing about him, “you’ve lied to me all this time—”
“i didn’t lie,” he says quickly, “i just…didn’t tell you everything—”
“that’s not any better,” you cut him off, finality in your voice that makes his eyes widen a fraction, “i have no business with someone of the—”
“wait,” his foot stops the door before it can close, stepping in despite your protests as he inches closer and closer. you take a step back every time—the hurt on his face is palpable. “can…can i explain? please?”
“explain what?” you furrow your eyebrows, “explain that you’re with the fatui? how is there any explaining that? how can you look me in the eye and tell me you’re not bad—”
“i’m not,” he insists, “i’m not bad.”
lyney has never looked at you like that—like you’ve hurt him right where he’s most vulnerable, right where he’s weak and fragile and can’t bear to be hurt. you hate that you want to apologize for a moment, that you want to cradle his face and kiss the tremble off of his lips.
“then what are you?” you challenge, crossing your arms.
“i’m trying to save people,” he croaks, “our organization has a lot of people—a lot of goals. father and i want to—”
“your father has hurt people,” you cut him off.
“father saved me,” he says firmly, “and lynette. she gave us a home. and she wants to save the people of this nation—”
“she’s taken advantage of your weakness and—”
“she did what no one else would for me and my family.”
“then go,” you spit, “go to her and do her bidding. but i can’t turn a blind eye to the fact that you’re with the fatui.”
“even as a member of the house, my decisions are my own,” his hand grabs yours—you can’t find it in yourself to pull it away. it’s familiar, warm—it’s lyney. your lyney. “i’m doing what i believe is right. to break the prophecy.”
“i don’t know what you’re trying to do,” you admit, tired, defeated, “or who you are, frankly. but i’m tired of lies, lyney.”
“then i’ll tell you the truth,” his voice trembles, “anything you ask.”
“i’m not sure that’ll help,” you say quietly.
and then his arms are wrapped tightly around you, his head tucking into the crook of your neck as he pulls you close. you want to push him away. you want to melt into his arms. you want to tell him to leave. you want to ask him to always stay.
lyney is of the house of the hearth, the fatui. but he’s also your lyney—the one who brings you flowers and tucks them behind your ear, the one who does tricks for children and makes them smile, the one who gives his heart and soul for his family to keep them safe.
you don’t know if the two can coexist as one, but you know despite it all, you still love lyney, and you don’t know if you can stop. the thought is haunting.
“i’ve always done what i believe is right,” he promises, “i’ve never hurt someone innocent. you have to know that much.”
“lyney—”
“i love you,” his voice breaks, “i’ve always loved you as just lyney. i promise.”
“i’m scared of who you are when you’re not just lyney,” you whisper—and you suppose you’re also weak, because your hand slips into his hair, stroking through the strands so that if it’s the last time, maybe you can commit the feeling of him to memory.
you can feel his tears fall onto your skin, and you can feel his fingers grip your shirt as he clings onto you, onto the last bit of hope that you’re his—that he’s yours. your lyney, the one you’ve always known and loved.
“i’m always just lyney,” he promises, “no matter who i’m with.”
“i just…need time,” you sniffle, “to think.”
“okay,” he says quietly. you can feel his lip quiver against your skin as he presses a kiss to your neck, “i’ll wait. however long you need, i’ll wait. i love you.”
“i know, lyney,” you sigh, caving and pressing a gentle kiss to the side of his head. you savor the feeling—just in case you’ll never feel it again.
maybe you can—maybe he’s telling the truth. maybe lyney has always been yours, the one you think you know. you don’t know, but you hope you’ll find out.
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i would forgive him i can’t lie to you no amount of fatui crimes could outweigh how badly i need to kiss this little shrimp of mine
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neil-gaiman · 2 months
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Hello Neil, my name is Zalean. If you have a few minutes, I wanted to tell you a little story. Not really a question and I’m not sure how to use tumblr but I wanted to say thanks so much for coming to Florida a few months back and talking with Art Spiegelman. It was my first time ever figuring out how to buy tickets for something. I lived in, middle of nowhere, Vermont for most my life and had no idea what I was doing, I had never been to anything before, nothing had made me excited enough to do the 5 hour drive. And then you just appeared 20 minutes away from where I am living now.
See, I was just starting to get to know your books and work because I fell in love with Good Omens so deeply when I discovered it during season twos release. Funny thing is, I knew of you all along without even realizing it, Stardust has been my favorite book and movie since I was a kid because it was my dad’s favorite story. Finding out my two favorite things were actually connected, I started trying to get hands on as many of your books as I could. I hadn’t read in years before finding your books. It was eye opening.
The talk event at the Dr.Phillips Center was sold out by the time I knew about it, someone had asked me if I knew of the event when they saw my Good Omens keychains my mom had made me. I called the box office because there is no harm in asking. I explained how I’m an art student at UCF and desperately wanted to be inspired and learn from you both. The customer service people were amazing and ended up calling me back to get me a seat in the orchestra pit before they were released to the public. I drove alone, I walked there alone, I sat alone, and it was worth it. I was so thankful to get a seat and grateful to my professor who was a bit jealous he didn’t know about it but let me leave class early to go because of course the art professor would be understanding for any learning opportunities in the arts. And it was truly wonderful, it seemed real and that’s what I wanted. I didn’t want a show. I just wanted to hear, in some sense, that you were like everybody else. I brought a notebook and pen for any information or story’s that I thought made a difference to my little life. The other people around were wonderful, you inspire kind people.
Like I said, I had never been to anything like this and I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t know you would have signed books and I only found out because the people next to me came in late. I asked them why they brought the books after it was over and the lights turned on. They did look at me like I had three heads for a moment until they realized I didn’t know there were books to buy, they looked kinda sorry for me but they were so nice. I had never really thought about the importance of someone’s scribble before this but it’s something that proves you were there. It says “Remember when this person made you happy? Remember when they changed your life? Remember when they gave you hope? Look at this and remember.” I hope to see David Tennant and Michael Sheen to get an autograph now that I understand the meaning behind it a bit more but honestly I just love diving into everyone’s projects, the wonder you all create. Oh what fun it is to live a life full of stories!
The people that were sitting next to me let me look at their signed books and hold them. I flipped through some of the big ones, handed them back and expressed my gratitude just to be in the theater. I showed them all my little quotes I wrote down, I never want to forget why I create things and you say so much about never stopping, always creating. Then the women handed me a different book, a smaller book, but when I tried to hand it back, a bit confused, she softly placed it back in my open hands and said “I want you to have it, we have plenty and I want you to love these stories just as much as we do. It’s just starting for you, I want you to remember who started it”. The book she handed me being“The Ocean at the End of the Lane”. The first book I decided to read by you and had just finished a week before. The women had no idea she given me a signed copy of the book that made me want to read again. Your books make the world better. For such a big theater and such a big stage, I just wanted to tell you my little point of view.
The story you told about wishing you enjoyed the past more than you did, I hope you get to enjoy it now, and I hope you want to. And thank you, to you and to Terry Pratchett for creating something special. I convinced my dad to watch Good Omens with me over December break, he loved it.
I forget sometimes that everything is someone's first time, and then I read something like this and feel like I need to remember that better. I'm glad the people beside you were kind.
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mockerycrow · 7 months
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UNDER THE SURFACE (Ghost x GN!Reader)
ghost masterlist — ghost icon by @yumethefrostypanda concept post here!
authors note; this is not my best work tbh, i wish i could improve it somehow, but i’m hoping you guys will like it anyway. Pretty sure this is my longest singular post, too! 4.7k words :-)
[WARNINGS: angst, spiraling thoughts, near panic attack, hurt/comfort, inaccurate medical stuff, vague descriptions of physical violence, very brief mention of possible self harm.]
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YOU WERE USED to Simon being gone for long periods of time; you have been his roommate for two years now, nearly three. You know he’s military, it’s part of the reason why you were able to score being his roommate in the first place. At first, it was a very awkward arrangement. Simon himself wasn’t a very awkward person, no—he’s actually quite charismatic in his own way, a way that you could get along with. One of the reasons why the arrangement was strange at first was because you weren’t exactly able to get a one on one tour of the flat before agreeing, but you were a bit more trusting of this mysterious man because a mutual friend—Kate—sent you his contact information, considering you were looking for a new place to live since your lease was up.
Simon’s flat was void of any personality, really. Yes, you could tell by the way he organized everything that he had been in the military, probably for quite a while—but there weren’t any photos. No gaming systems; you discovered he did have a bookcase of quite a few books, but it was covered in a layer of dust. Despite this, when examining the books he owned, you could tell they were worn down—definitely loved. It made you smile a bit, seeing the different variety of books. A bit of personality, you think. Besides his room, it was like a completely furnished, no personality flat. You weren’t allowed in his room, not unless he gave you explicit permission, which you honored his boundaries. Simon was kind enough to offer you a space in his home—but you know he was quite weary of you, which was understandable. He helped you move in and you could tell he was watching you and your body language. Searching you for danger—but he slowly warmed up to you.
Another thing that you discovered that Simon was quite emotionally.. constipated. Over the first few months, you could tell he didn’t sleep as much as he probably should. He was always awake before you, and you would always find him in the kitchen, sipping on a hot cup of tea. After a few weeks of this routine—Simon rising much earlier than you, you figured maybe he couldn’t break the military’s strict routines.. Until one night you woke up from the sound of his heavy footsteps walking down the hall. You tensed in your bed and you sat up because Simon was silent as a ghost all the time. You didn’t even know if it was him at first, so in your half-asleep panicked state, you felt for your phone and you texted Simon’s contact, asking a messily texted “is that you walking around?” You blink your sleepiness away and wipe your eye as your phone vibrates with a “yeah. sorry.”
That was the first time you got some notion that Simon was thrown off guard from something, after another week of awakening from his noises, you began to realize that he was experiencing night terrors every couple of nights. His nightmares were never a thing you two discussed, exactly.. It was more of an unspoken rule to not talk about it. You would occasionally find yourself in the kitchen around the time you calculated when Simon would wake up—and you were right nearly every time—and you just.. coincidentally made him a cup of tea. To Simon’s pleasant surprise, you managed to get his tea right every single time. You’ve had your fair share of night terrors, so you knew how it could be sometimes. You wanted to do something nice for him, and he seemed flustered every time.
It took you a while to get used to him being gone for long periods of time. Simon appreciated that you never questioned too deeply into his career, even the times he would come home sporting a new injury, you were always willing to play doctor for him. Simon saw the concern in your eyes and sometimes he would share small stories of what happened, or maybe to get you to stop thinking about his injuries, a small story about his teammates. You slowly learned their names over the course of a year and a half, and you learned Simon’s rank as well. He is a lieutenant, and there’s a man called Captain Price, another man named Sergeant Kyle Garrick, and one more man named Sergeant John MacTavish, who Simon referred to as “Johnny” fondly.
It wasn’t common that Simon talked about work, which is the reason why it took about a year and a half to even get the information you did out of him. Over the time you’ve lived with him, you had decorated the flat to feel more comfortable and home-y. Simon only had a few requests, which you honored, and one of them was no pictures of him with his face showing. You shot him a curious and questioning look, but as always—you didn’t question him, and he was very thankful. You had gotten a few indoor plants as well that didn’t need much caring for and you wanted to liven up the place, y’know? You were okay with Simon not sharing much about his past or his work, because he was willing to listen to your little rambles about your interests and work. You were a bit hesitant, but Simon was very emotive and he never seemed annoyed or brushed you off.
Despite Simon’s reluctance to share anything of his own, he always heard you out if you needed to vent about something. He made sure you knew you could talk to him, even on days where you felt like you had no one to go to. You spent an entire night with him, just talking about anything and everything. It was the first real conversation you felt like you have had with anyone in such a long time. It was also the first night Simon really saw you. He watched as your eyebrows furrowed from uncomfortableness, the vulnerability being nearly too much to handle; something he could relate to on a personal level. So when you started showing these signs, he knew exactly when to change the subject. Simon quickly realized how to read you, and he somehow knew what you needed at different moments.
Simon flies into the airport late at night with a small duffel bag, tagged as a military bag. He sends you a quick “be home soon.” text. Simon doesn’t expect you to answer due to it being around 3 in the morning, and you indeed don’t answer him. He catches a taxi to your shared flat. Simon collects his things from the taxi before paying the driver and sending them off, and Simon lets out a slow breath as he takes in the achingly familiar sight of the place he lives in. He tugs the hood that remains sitting over his head closer to his face, which is covered by a black surgical mask. His hand tightens on the straps of the duffel bag before he approaches the flat building, taking out his keys as he approaches the elevator. Once Simon reaches the third floor, he wastes no time getting to the front door, and he isn’t sure why, but his heart is pounding inside of his chest.
Simon unlocks both the top lock and the doorknob to enter the flat—something he had taught you to do every single time. He pockets his keys as he enters and Simon pauses for a moment because he can’t put his finger on it, but something feels off the second he glanced inside. His eyes trail the living room which is clean, not one thing out of place. Simon takes a deep breath and he doesn’t brush off the weird feeling, because even when there’s no evidence something happened—he’s usually right. The blanket on the couch is perfectly folded and laid over the back cushions, the mini bookcase by the TV is dusted as always, your shoes.. Are not by the front door, but a different pair are..? These either are not your shoes, or they are new. You always warned Simon about bringing people over, and you definitely would’ve told him this time. The lamp is on in the living room, but it seems the lights are out everywhere else. Simon silently goes through his routine when he gets back late at night—taking his jacket off and hanging it up, he leaves his boots by the door, and he drops his keys into the dish.
Next step to his routine is to step into the kitchen and get a cup of actually good quality tea, unlike the shit the military provides him. He fills up the electric kettle and sets a timer on it, grabbing his favorite mug and the box of his favorite tea from the cabinets. Simon glances down the dark hall—he’s seeking for a sign of life from you because you’re usually getting up around this time to greet him. No matter what, you always seem to know when he returns—yet you aren’t leaving your room. There’s no light emitting from the hall nor underneath the doors, and fuck, it’s eating at him. Something is wrong—and what the fuck is it? Simon stands there for a moment, turning his head to watch the blue light blinking on the electric kettle. He watches it blink slowly as he tries to rack his brain for what could be wrong—maybe those shoes are someone else’s, but he could just have a stern conversation with you about it later. Maybe you came back from drinking with friends—no, if that was the case, he knows for a fact your belongings would be everywhere, maybe even a spilled glass of water in the kitchen. He’s had to clean that up a couple of times.
He raises his wrist and pulls up his sleeve a bit to look at his digital watch; it’s nearly 0400 now. Simon puts his hands on the counter, leaning his body weight against it. Did something happen at work, maybe that’s why it feels off? You’ve always had a commanding presence like he has, so maybe— “Fuck.” Simon hisses quietly, hooking a finger into the strap of his black face mask and he rips it off, tossing it without care onto the counter. He leans forward and checks the kettles timer for a second, and then he’s walking towards the hall. Simon passes by his room and he walks up to yours, and he tries to turn the doorknob to peak in to check on you, but—it’s locked? Simon lets out a harsh breath before trying the door again, and yeah, it’s locked. Simon swears under his breath and he knocks on the door, his stomach twisting and turning. Something is wrong, very very wrong, very fucking wrong—
You unlock the door and you open it just enough for you to peak out, and you use your phone flashlight to shine it in Simon’s face. He squints and puts his hand up, his voice rumbling in his chest. “Hey—you locked your door.” He points out quietly, and you’re just staring at him, your eyes wide and alert. Simon’s anxiety lessens, but your reaction doesn’t make it go away. “Y’alright?” Simon drawls out, his hand on the wood panel of the door. You let out a harsh breath and you let go of your phone, letting out a quiet, “Simon..” before you suddenly pull your door completely open, and you wrap your arms around his thick torso into a hug. Simon swears his heart jumps into his throat and then into his stomach, bouncing back into his chest because you hugged him. You two were never particularly touchy like that, maybe a fleeting touch here or two, usual drunken affection from you—but you barely ever hugged him like this, even when he returned from deployments. Your touch burns hot through his clothes, and he knows you wouldn’t touch him without asking, so when you do? He wraps an arm around you, his free arm resting on your shoulder. “Hey..” Simon breathes out, lost for words.
You don’t hold on long enough for the uncomfortable worry to creep up his spine just yet. You rip yourself away from him like he burned you, his hands falling to his sides. You offer a tight, weak smile—one that you could easily play off as a sign of fatigue. Simon’s breath stutters as he watches your hands linger near your chest in a subconscious defensive gesture, your fingers closing into a fist for a moment; as if you’re uncomfortable, almost overstimulated. Simon feels the way for the light switch and he flips it on, and your room looks normal—but you look.. off. You look a bit clammy, almost like you’re sick or bouncing off the walls with anxiety. His eyes flick to your fingers and the skin besides your thumbnail and your middle finger are picked to all hell, and you just.. don’t seem right. All of these.. signs, you’re showing are actually very subtle—he just notices everything about you. Simon knows what food you favor, what your favorite color is, what social situations what you tick, what makes you mad—he knows it all. “Three months went by slow,” You murmur, trying to start a conversation. Simon’s eyes narrow at you for a moment as he watches you back up to your bed; no, you don’t turn around, you back up. You don’t turn your back to Simon at all. Fuck. He watches you lift your mattress, causing him to lift an eyebrow. “They did,” Simon confirms. “What happened while I was gone?”
This wasn’t an unusual question for Simon to ask; but it had a completely different meaning to you this time. You feel your muscles tense as you grab something from under your mattress, and you put it back down. It glints from the overhead light in your bedroom—a.. pocket knife of some sort, a switchblade perhaps. Simon’s eyes narrow at how you pocket it oh so quickly into your pocket. “Nothing much,” You reply quickly, smoothing out your shirt. “Same old same old, work has been fine, uh..” You trail off for a moment, clearing your throat. “Look, let me take a shower—I’m sure you’re itching for something to eat, huh?” Simon watches you open your drawers and pick out some pants and a shirt. The knife comes to mind—why are you taking it with you? “I can make it myself.” Simon responds, his feet planted firmly where he had been standing the whole time. You shake your head and close the drawers once you collect your clothes.
“It’s tradition, Simon. I gotta.” You offer a stronger smile as you make your way towards the door, still avoiding showing your back towards him. Simon watches as you glance at your bedroom window before exiting your room, muttering a quiet “close the door when you leave”, which Simon obeys. He shuts the door with a click, and he watches you quickly scurry down the hall towards the bathroom. “Just let me shower first.” And with that, you step into the bathroom, close the door and you lock it before Simon can interject. He stands there for a moment, stunned. His chest tightens for a moment because you just felt so far away. You’ve created such unwanted distance—even as you’re not very touchy with him, you still bother him for every detail he’s willing to give up when he returns. You are constantly making jokes, inviting him into the kitchen when you’re about to make a welcome home meal—but this time? You were hiding in your room, locking your door, bringing a knife with you—in front of him. Did you think that could slip past him? Did something happen whilst he was gone, to cause you to bring it with you? Is it for self defense against something or someone?— Is it to use on yourself?
Simon feels his stomach turn at his thoughts. He shakes his head and sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He walks past the bathroom, his footsteps stuttering for a moment in front of the door before he presses his lips into a thin line, returning to the kitchen to make himself some tea, the electric kettle had beeped long ago.
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The next late morning, not much was different. Simon only slept a few hours, three or four—as per usual, he still woke up before you. He threw on a pair of sweatpants, and a black hoodie. He made his tea, made you a cup of what you prefer to drink in the morning, and he made a light breakfast for you both. Despite being in the military for a while and relying on cooks as well as MRE’s to get through his days, Simon is a decent cook. He made himself some sausage and fried eggs, and he made a plate or a bowl of what you prefer to eat in the morning. Simon sighs for a moment as he glances at the time—around 1100, and you still haven’t emerged from your room which is odd, especially now that Simon just came back home. He takes a moment to look at his food, and he decides then and there he will drag you out if he has to. Simon scoops up his plate as well as your food, and he heads down the hall towards your room. With his hands full, Simon balances for a second as he gently kicks the door as a way to knock, and then he stands on both of his feet again. “Oi, wake up!” Simon shouts, leaning close to the door to listen for your movement.
It takes a good minute and when Simon is about to knock again; he hears your doorknob unlock and you peak out the door, your eyes wide and alert again, although it’s obvious you had just woken up. You seem to relax when your tired mind’s gears turn and you realize it’s just Simon. You open your door wider and you rub your eye, and he spots the knife in your hand, partially obscured by the door. “Mm, sorry. I overslept.” You say, your voice heavy with sleep, vibrating in your chest. Simon makes a noncommittal noise before holding out your food, which you stare at for a moment you take it, your lips twitching into a weak smile. “Thanks, Simon.” He waits a few seconds, and you nearly shut your door on him.
Thanks, Simon. That’s all??
“Can I eat in your room wit’you?” Simon gruffs out, feeling sudden determination from this weird act you have going on. You blink for a moment and then you nod. “Just give me a sec.” You murmur. You shut the door in his face and he hears you shuffling about, moving something—sounds like your mattress. Are you putting your knife away??—and then you open your door, gesturing for Simon to walk into your room. Surely you don’t think you can hide this type of thing from him of all people, right? Why are you hiding it from him?
Simon enters your room, and you close the door behind him. You never used to do that—“What happened?” Simon stares at you for an answer, watching your face contort in a bit of confusion. You don’t say anything at first, and when you were about to open your mouth, Simon speaks. “I mean this in the nicest way possible—do ya take me f’a wanker?” Your jaw drops for a moment, your eyebrows furrowing. “What? No, of course not, Simon. Nothing happened, I’m not sure why—“
“Don’t,” Simon interrupts, putting his plate of food on your dresser. “Something has happened, and you’re lyin’ to me. You’re jumpy, you’re carryin’ a blood knife around, lovie—don’t think you can get that past me—and you won’t turn your back on me.” His lips press into a line as he watches your shoulder hunch up a bit, in an all too familiar defensive, tense position. The pit in Simon’s stomach begins to grow as you avert your eyes from, too. “You are barely talkin’ when you bloody damn near talk my ear off when I come home—you said, ‘Thanks, Simon.’ Not an over the top reaction about me doing something for th’both of’us, not a invite in, and last night—you’ve been locking your door.” You put your food down near yourself, and Simon catches the way your fingers are trembling. “I.. I’m allowed to lock my door, Simon. You don’t need to question me.” You say, attempting to hold a steady voice which barely works, your voice nearly cracking on the last word. Your heart is racing out of your chest and all you want to do is bolt at the door; which Simon catches on to. You watch him as he slowly begins to step in front of the door. “You tell me everything—even how your damn showers go. Why won’t you tell me this?” He demands, and his heart is pounding against his ribcage, too.
He watches your face contort into several different emotions and feelings; panic, sadness, anger, relief—the whole nine yards. Simon walks towards you when you begin to sob, and you sit down on your bed to avoid collapsing. His chest tightens as he murmurs name, wondering if he went too far. You reach your hands for him and not for one second does Simon hesitate this time. He wraps his arms around you, sitting right next to you on your mattress, your thighs touching together. He reaches up and rubs the nape of your neck as you openly sob and shutter into the crook of his neck and in his arms. His skin burns from your heat seeping into his clothes, a lively warmth that burns so hot but he welcomes so much more than he remembers that he used to. Your tears are hot, burning his skin with every drop that slides onto his neck, but he welcomes the sensation. “It’s alright, lovie. Let it out.” Simon murmurs, one of his arms tugging your body closer to his. He holds you in almost protective stance, like someone is threatening to drag you away from his grasp. You grab at the back of his hoodie, your chest beginning to heave. “Mm, no, c’mere; look at me, yeah?” Simon beckons you, his voice smooth and soft—which is extremely rare. Simon cups your cheek and lifts your head from where it rests in the crook of his neck, his hand instantly getting covered in the wetness of your tears that are streaming down your cheeks. You inhale sharply as you try to look at Simon, your eyes unfocused and you try so hard to focus on his pretty brown eyes, but you can’t seem to get ahold of yourself. You let out a panicked sob as your hand now tug on the front of his hoodie, and his voice is so far away, but his hand is molding to the curve of your jaw, like it belongs there.
You shut your eyes for a moment and you let Simon move you around as he wants, which he ends up guiding your head to his chest, and his grip loosens some so you don’t feel trapped. It takes you a moment to catch your breath, to catch your bearings; you can hear a faint ringing sound that you didn’t notice before, but you do note it’s slowly fading away, and in fades is Simon’s voice. He’s murmuring praises—and oh, he’s laying against the headboard of your bed frame now, with you laying on his chest. You feel yourself trembling against him, and embarrassment hits you hard. You’re tense—you don’t want to talk about any of it at all, but you know Simon. He will push you until you snap, even if it’s in your best interest to tell him. You reach up and play with a hoodie string of his, listening to his soft breathing. You hesitate for a moment before your lips part. “It was a week after you left.” Simon’s heart skips a beat, which you hear—you vaguely find it amusing, but he’s silent to allow you to continue. One of his hands is on your back, his thumb moving back and forth. “I..” You swallow spit so you don’t croak, as you’re convinced you might sound pathetic. As if Simon would ever think of you that way. “I was walking home from the pub, y’know, the one only just a few blocks away? It was late at night, I think the police said it was around 2 am. I stayed until closing, I was with some of my friends, uh..” You trail off for a moment, trying to recall everything that happened. Your hand pauses, and Simon senses your state. He begins to rub your back full on, murmuring, “It’s alright. Go on, then.”
You let out a shaky breath before continuing. “I was absolutely wasted, and there was this guy—grabbed me and I tried to get out of his hold, but he ended up fucking stabbing me. Robbed me of my shit.” Your voice cracks and the silence is deafening. Simon feels his heart drop into his stomach. You got stabbed? “Fuckin’ hell.. Why didn’t you call me? Or at least let me know?” Simon’s voice treats carefully, knowing that you’re still freaking out by the way you’re incredibly tense against him. “I know how important your focus is when you’re gone,” You respond, your voice staying quiet as well. You don’t look at Simon’s face because you know that you’ll break once again. You pick at the fabric of his hoodie, seeking comfort in his warmth, despite how you usually aren’t like this with him. “I didn’t want to take your focus because I know you, Simon. You would’ve backed out of whatever you were trying to do to come and help me.” Simon presses his lips into a thin line, staying quiet because you both know that you’re correct. Simon would drop everything to come home to you, to help you. “The guy nicked my lung, was in the hospital for a while.” Simon’s hand stutters for a moment, the smooth pattern of his palm rubbing your back being interrupted from shock. “Jesus—“ Simon hisses, and he can’t help but tug you closer. “You should’ve told me anyway, lovie.”
You sniffle and you rub your face into his hoodie, a muffled noncommittal noise coming from the back of your throat. He doesn’t say anything further, nor do you. Simon lays there with you on top of him, one of his hands caressing your back, the other wrapped around your body, sometimes coming up to rub the back of your neck. You don’t mention the way he doesn’t seem to tell you to move, and he doesn’t mention how touchy you’re being. Simon doesn’t want this moment to end—one where you’re vulnerable and trusting with him, one where you’re alive and well. He can’t help but wonder if he ever made you feel like you couldn’t tell him something? Simon feels simmering, muffled anger in his stomach because you didn’t want to interrupt his work for being stabbed, nicking a vital organ no less—he makes a mental note to sit you down and make you promise to call him if an issue or an injury like that ever arises again. He closes his eyes for a moment, trying to push away what would happen if you didn’t do that—if that guy were to come back to try to finish the job and Simon wasn’t here, would you call him? Would you pick up your phone and dial his number? Would you text him? What if you got hurt again—would you call him?—Or would the hospital? He always imagined you’d be getting the call of his death, and not the other way around. Simon swears under his breath for a moment and opens his eyes; he doesn’t want to think about that anymore. He wants to stay in this moment with you—both himself and you alive. He glances down, your tear stained cheeks slowly drying, your eyelids closed. His fingers slide from the nape of your neck to the side, and he presses his fingers against your pulse.
Being here with you—he wants you to trust him, too; like he trusts you. That’s all he wants.
tag: @zzzennin
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astonmartinii · 3 months
Text
bad blood (lando's version) | lando norris social media au
pairing: lando norris x fem carlos ex!reader
band aid's don't fix bullet holes but his best friend might
based on this request:so reader is a famous model who’s also carlos ex (dated YEARS) and after the breakup he jumped straight to rebeca (we just need a tiny bit of bad blood). soo she and lando always got along, ever since carlos was in mclaren. the point is they get together and come hand in hand to a gp out of nowhere so drama and more bad blood surface - you can lead this to whatever you want hehe, thanks!!! - @lorenakaspersen
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
vogue
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liked by hunterschafer, landonorris and 1,209,433 others
tagged: yourusername
vogue: y/n y/ln takes the cover for this month, where she talks re-discovering herself and giving yourself time to move on. copies in stores everywhere this friday.
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user1: i am once again asking how the fuck that man fumbled a bad bitch like her
user2: do not bring that man up here, he actually boils my blood
user3: honestly thank god they wear helmets in f1 cause if i saw his smug little face i may have smashed by tv
yourusername: thank you for having me hehehehhe xx
vogue: you dropped this queen 👑
user4: not vogue supporting her more than carlos ever did 🤨
user5: at least lando still supports her
user6: i'm glad the friends she made... i.e lando, charles, max, daniel, etc did also abandon her when carlos just dropped her
hunterschafer: you're the person i see in your dreams
yourusername: are you sure i'm not just your sleep paralysis demon?
hunterschafer: you're welcome to stalk mine dreams anytime
user7: how am i meant to care about f1 without y/n?
user8: she's the reason i learnt about the sport but at leats now i have an excuse to support someone else LOL
landonorris: tinkerbell looks a little bit different here
yourusername: i thought you were too old to watch peter pan?
landonorris: i just said that so you would think i'm a big macho man :(
yourusername: that is tragic
landonorris: can i interest you in a movie night some time soon then
yourusername: you might
user9: WHAT IS GOING ON HERE ^^
user10: idk but i am excited
f1wagupdates
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liked by user11, user12 and 4,032 others
f1wagsupdates: carlos sainz debuts his new girlfriend rebecca donaldson at the bahrain grand prix, just one month after breaking up with model y/n y/ln. sainz and y/ln were together for three years, and sainz was seen with donaldson for the first time just a week after the breakup.
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user13: lol the wag accounts are done with his ass
f1wagsupdates: i am a y/n y/ln stan first and foremost
user14: anyone see the absolute stink eye charles and lando gave carlos LOL
user15: that's the thing when you're together for so long, the friends get attached as well
user16: i mean if certified homie hopper charles leclerc is calling your bluff then you know you've fucked up
user17: i will never understand how he jumped into a relationship with her after three years ?? LIKE IT WAS NOTHING
user18: things like that make me glad i'm single
user19: the thing that is bothering me that no one has said yet is the fact that he's been with her what a month? and he's already brought her to a race when he made y/n wait months to go to a race?
user20: screams insecurity - like "look i have moved on, i'm an alpha male who can get whoever i want"
user21: i never understood why he didn't let her come to races for months when they first got together, like not even his home race?
user22: i've always got the vibe that he thought that he was better than her and that she was using him?
user23: the way if he ever posted her (which was not very often) he never tagged her
user24: which is ironic because she's one of the most celebrated models in recent history, she has millions more followers than him and has a bigger network than him, so really if anyone was using anyone it was carlos using her
user25: anyone else pulling for her to get with lando?
user26: i always thought they got on more in the videos of them all together but honestly i just want her to be happy
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 2,018,552 others
yourusername: not much going on recently
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user27: SHE'S SO HOT
user28: i need her to give me one chance please
charles_leclerc: are we still down for the road trip to lourdes?
yourusername: needed now more than ever
charles_leclerc: trust and believe
user29: charles and y/n friendship you mean so much to me
user30: need her to sit in charles' side of the garage
user31: mother went to the university of servington where she got a degree is cuntology with a minor in slaying the haus down
danielricciardo: miss ma'am, leave some for the rest of us
yourusername: why thank you good sir
danielricciardo: where do i procure a veil as such?
yourusername: i may source one for you if you promise not to shave that moustache
heidiberger: preach
user32: i bet carlos just thought everyone would just forget about y/n when he dropped her, but he forgot that she's probably more liked on the grid than he is LOL
landonorris: why are you staring into my soul like that
yourusername: why are you lurking in my comment section
landonorris: i thought we were friends :(
yourusername: always and forever
user33: but he wants it to be more
liked by landonorris, danielricciardo
user33: I SAW THAT LANDO X Y/N COMING SOON?
landonorris
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liked by carlossainz55, yourusername and 803,774 others
landonorris: hostess with the most-ess?
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user34: is that a ... WOMAN?
user35: he's saying he's a host ... maybe he's hosting a friend who is a girl, it's not illegal
user36: i get your sentiment, but that photo is straight out of the soft launch girlfriend pinterest boards
user37: well now i'm picturing lando scrolling through pinterest and asking ??? to recreate the pics 😭
carlossainz55: missing my golf partner, round this weekend? ⛳️
landonorris: let me check my schedule buddy 👍
user38: okay... well someone else tell me that they can feel the vibe shift
user39: it's their first online interaction after the breakup, i think we can guess who's side lando is on
oscarpiastri: someone needs to debrief me asap
landonorris: someone forgot that he owns a phone
oscarpiastri: needed the added pressure of the public call out to make you actually do it
landonorris: fine, but you get three questions and that's it
user40: if the call out was public can't we get the public answers
yourusername: are you coming for my job?
landonorris: you saying i could model 😊
yourusername: i'm definitely saying you should let me give my agent your number
landonorris: you already have my number babe
yourusername: okay pretty boy
user41: i need this type of nepotism in my life
user42: i need the nepotism and the sexual tension cause PHEW it is through the roof
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yourusername
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liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 2,760,521 others
yourusername: enjoy the picture of me fucking up a pretzel
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user46: okay where are the detective freaks from f1twt?
user47: reporting for duty 🫡
user46: what car is that?
user47: it looks strikingly similar to a jolly, but i don't know if that's just my brain pushing me to make it lando. but there is a florist in monaco that wraps their flowers just like that as well ....
user46: thank you for your service
danielricciardo: this is very ballerina core 🩰
yourusername: has the old man been spending time on the internet?
danielricciardo: yes he has 😃
yourusername: omg proud
danielricciardo: no but seriously how did you do it? it looks sick
yourusername: very fiddly, needed an extra pair of hands
danielricciardo: an extra pair of hands [wiggles eyebrows]
yourusername: did you just comment your own stage directions?
danielricciardo: funny 😄
user48: okay i am glad we're not being deprived of the y/n and daniel friendship.
landonorris: i am enjoying this picture of you fucking up a pretzel
yourusername: i am a whore for carbs
landonorris: i am a whore for you
this comment was deleted
landonorris: i am also a whore for carbs (don't tell jon)
maxverstappen1: 📸📸📸 saw that mister !!
landonorris: you didn't see NOTHING
user49: we saw everything. i am so disappointed in lando, he's carlos' bestfriend and he's doing this?
liked by carlossainz55
user50: oh i know this man aint speaking
f1teaandgossip
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liked by user51, user52 and 10,945 others
ftteaandgossip: carlos sainz was caught liking this tweet about his ex girlfriend y/n y/ln and his (former?) best friend lando norris. what do you think?
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user53: the audacity of men never fails to astound me
user54: you know what, i feel like a guilty man only acts this bold. so i'm saying it. i think there was overlap between his relationship with y/n and his relationship with rebecca
user55: you're right and you should say it
user56: carlos got with rebecca within a WEEK of the end of a three year relationship but is angry that she's finally moving on after months ?
user57: for real the first sight of lando and y/n was after at least two months
user58: i know people will say she's in the wrong because it is lando but honestly carlos has no leg to stand on with him parading rebecca around the paddock
user59: i really couldn't give a fuck if lando is his best buddy you act like a fool expect to get treated like a fool
user60: also the whole "whoring around the grid" is so dumb. you mean her FRIENDS? you know the friends she had to make when you would just leave her in the paddock or ignore her at parties ?
user61: babe really thought he was more loved in the paddock and expected everyone to go along with his messiness
user62: men don't talk about women this way challenge
user63: imagine talking about a girl you were with for THREE tears like this
user64: i wish lando and y/n all the best and i hope they're together for a long time, she deserves a good man after all of this
user65: i have faith 🤞
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 3,109,413 others
tagged: landonorris
yourusername: sloppy seconds you say? i never come second with him. pun intended x
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user66: SERVE
user67: user67 found dead in her home, cause of death: this post
landonorris: what can i say i'm a giver 🤷‍♂️
yourusername: i'll say 😮‍💨
oscarpiastri: ENOUGH
landonorris: i thought you were happy for us oscar :(
oscarpiastri: i am !! i even took the second picture. but i think you forget that i am staying with you in monaco :/
yourusername: whoops my bad
landonorris: i swear my hospitality is usually better
yourusername: i can attest to his hospitality
oscarpiastri: STOP PLEASE STOP
user68: poor oscar being traumatised by y/n and lando 😭
carlossainz55: real mature
yourusername: how about instead of liking shady tweets and commenting on my instagram posts, you come confront me like a real fucking person.
carlossainz55: you'd love that wouldn't you
yourusername: i really would because if i said everything you needed to hear i'd be banned from this app
carlossainz55: you really are the gold digging slut my parents warned me about
landonorris: you will absolutely not talk to her that way. if you do so again we'll have a very real problem
carlossainz55: you have no sense of loyalty lando
landonorris: the call is coming from inside the house
user69: the girls are FIGHTING
comments on this post have been limited.
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landonorris
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liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 1,866,398 others
tagged: yourusername
landonorris: nothing better than a podium at home and time with family
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user72: the sky camera shady as fuck for cutting straight to y/n in the mclaren garage when carlos crashed LOL
user73: her and lando's dad trying not to laugh had me creasing
yourusername: beyond proud of you baby
landonorris: your support means everything pretty girl
yourusername: and your family are the loveliest, tell mama i said thank you for having me (and my sandwiches for the plane)
landonorris: she say's thank you and come back soon (i also want you to come home asap)
user74: he already refers to his house at their home
user75: and y/n has been accepted by the family - the sainzs could take notes
oscarpiastri: oscar piastri erasure
yourusername: sorry osc, you're our favourite pookie on the grid
landonorris: also mama made you sandwiches too
oscarpiastri: i know they were very yummy 😋
danielricciardo: HOLD ON, oscar is your favourite pookie, where am i ???
maxverstappen1: i think you'll find i am their favourite full stop
charles_leclerc: nuh uh it's clearly me
yourusername: i'll just say lando is my favourite
landonorris: and i'll say y/n is my favourite
yourusername: and that's that
danielricciardo: boooooooo.
maxverstappen1: cop out :(
charles_leclerc: 🍅🍅🍅
user76: i am so confused right now
yourusername
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liked by bellahadid, landonorris and 3,109,766 others
tagged: landonorris
yourusername: you are in love, true love.
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user77: omg the letters? i swear there were letters in her first post after carlos took rebecca to the first race of the season
user78: wait so do you think they were from lando the whole time?
yourusername: yes they are from lando ! after the carlos stuff had somewhat died down he had them all delivered to me and it definitely swayed me for a first date
user79: but i thought some of those letters looked pretty old
landonorris: i won't deny that i liked y/n for a long time but i obviously couldn't express that so i put them in letters. an idiot was an idiot and i'll never not take my chance
user80: okay that makes this whole thing so much cuter
user81: y/n is the definition of never letting your boyfriend stop you from finding your husband
landonorris: you're my best friend and i love you so much
yourusername: i'd go through all this mess and all this heartbreak again if it meant i still end up with you
landonorris: but i'm by your side forever now you can't get rid of me
yourusername: i wouldn't dream of it
user82: lord i have seen it all, please bless me with a relationship like this
danielricciardo: god you people are ridiculously cute
oscarpiastri: just think yourself lucky that you no longer share a garage with them
landonorris: we're not THAT bad
oscarpiastri: i have working ears
yourusername: sorry not sorry osc x
fin.
note: hope you all enjoyed. i am dying trying to do 75 soft but i also signed up for burlesque class !!
2K notes · View notes
f1goat · 6 days
Text
more than friends ; lando norris + part seven
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In which your best friend is going to help you to gain more sexual experience and say goodbye to your insecurities, but he's quick to discover that he never wants to share you and your new experiences with others - the only problem being, him having to confess his feelings.
masterlist - playlist
fem!y/n x lando norris
warnings: smut with a plot. minors dni! probably grammar or spelling errors due to english not being my first language.
requested: yes, based on this request: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things
part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six
Lando almost spits out the sip of his drink he just took. Did he hear that correct? It can’t be, right? His face fall flat when Pierre looks al him while waiting for his answer. Does he really need to answer this? Pierre just asked him if you’re - or in Pierre’s words: his friend, still single. Oscar is also looking at Lando, waiting for the boy to react. The boys are having dinner with each other to end this race weekend and chat. You’re still at the hotel, not wanting to interrupt Lando his boys night. He did however try to get you along with him. He should have stayed with you.
“Lando?” Pierre asks.
“Uh, which friend do you mean?” Lando reacts. He knows for sure it’s about you, but he hopes it’s not. He can’t even imagine who else Pierre could mean. There aren’t more female friends of his who are joining him to the races often. It’s always you. Fucking Pierre.
“The one who is with you almost every race,” Pierre says, “What’s her name again?” 
Great Pierre wants to know if you’re single, but he doesn’t even know your name. It annoys Lando already. Before he can answer his question, Daniel is already speaking. 
“You mean Y/N,” Daniel interrupts. Pierre starts nodding right away, “Yes! Is she still single?”
Oscar stares at Lando. He wonders how Lando is going to react to this. Whatever will happen next can’t be good. It doesn’t surprise him when Lando takes a big gulp of the strong drink in front of him before looking at Pierre again. Oscar lets out a small sigh, this can’t be going well. 
“Yeah, she is,” Lando eventually answers. It pains him to have to say those words. Why are you still single? Why isn’t he making sure that you’re his? Then all this problems would have been solved. He only has to confess that he has been in love with you since he was ten or something, totally easy to do. Fuck.
“Great,” Pierre replies happily, “I’m thinking about asking her on a date soon.”
“You want to date Y/N?” Max asks confused, “Do you even know her?” 
Lando is glad about Max his reaction. He wonders the exact same thing. Oscar is also happy about Max asking questions instead of Lando. Since his teammate is sending angry glares towards the Alpine driver, he almost looks like he wants to kill him. Oscar wonders what’s going on in Lando his head right now, but he’s pretty sure that it’s the same thing as when he told him about Logan wanting to date Y/N. He doesn’t understand why Lando isn’t already dating you.
“Don’t know her yet,” Pierre says with a small smirk.
“I don’t think you’ll match with her,” Lando states. Before Pierre or anyone else can question his statement, Lando already continues to talk. “You’re not her type and I don’t even know if she’s yours when I look at your exes. Y/N doesn’t like to go out all the time, she wants someone to settle with her instead of some meaningless relation which will last a couple months.” Oscar can’t withhold a small laugh, his friend really is the worst.
“I’m changing,” Pierre states, “I want to settle as well and with her.”
“Why her?” Max butts in.
“She’s really good looking,” Pierre answers without even thinking about a better answer. It causes Lando to let out another sigh. Does Pierre only want you for your looks? Doesn’t he even realize what you have to offer beside them? Lando thinks about all you actually have to offer beside being beautiful. He loves how smart you are, but how you can also match his dumb questions sometimes. You can read multiple books on a day, but have trouble with pronouncing the most simple words. Or the way you -
“So do you have her number for me?” Pierre interrupts his thoughts.
“My phone is empty,” Lando quickly replies.
Oscar notices the next big gulp Lando takes from his drink. He also notices the sad, annoyed look on his friends face. Maybe Lando thinks nobody is paying attention to him when he whispers again, but Oscar hears it perfectly. “Fuck,” Lando grunts annoyed, “”Why does everyone want her.”
The night doesn’t continue smoothly like before. Pierre makes multiple remarks about you, which causes Lando to get even more annoyed and to drink even more. The people who are a bit closer with Lando and know him pretty well - like Oscar, Max and Daniel, are quick to notice to jealousy which doesn’t leave Lando his mind anymore. He can only think about Pierre who wants to date you. When Daniel starts to order multiple shots in order to help Lando ‘forget’, Oscar is already afraid for the outcome. Lando is getting more drunk with the second. This can’t go well. 
When almost everyone has left, Oscar is the one who still pays attention to Lando. He doesn’t dare to leave his friend alone like this. He wonders how Lando will ever get back to the hotel without any help. Eventually he takes Lando outside with him, walking towards a taxi with him. He sighs when he thinks about the other drivers who already left without even thinking about their drunk friend. 
The taxi driver is glad to bring them back to the hotel, the only problem seems to be Lando. He doesn’t want to get in the cab. Oscar realizes that Lando is even more drunk then he already thought. He curses Pierre for his god awful remarks about you but also curses Daniel for all the shots. He’s all alone with Lando, who doesn’t want to get in any cab right now. 
“You don’t understand, I want Y/N to come pick me up,” Lando states drunkly when Oscar asks him about his reasons to not want to take the taxi. 
“If you’re getting in the cab you’ll be with her sooner,” Oscar states.
“I want her to pick me up,” Lando slurs.
“I can’t call her awake for this,” Oscar argues.
“Yes you can,” Lando argues back, “She’ll come.”
The taxi driver is already focusing on other people, who are actually getting into the car instead of arguing next to it. Eventually the taxi drives away. Oscar curses Pierre again, this is all his fault. Okay and maybe partly Lando his fault. Why isn’t he just honest about his feelings for you? The two of you should be dating already. How hard can it be.
“Are you going to call her?” Lando asks. It causes Oscar to snap back into reality. He looks at the hopeful eyes of his drunk friend. Eventually he shows him a small nod. Maybe when Lando realizes that you don’t want to pick them up, he’ll get him in a cab. He searches for your contact in his phone and presses the call button. When he hears the phone goes over, he thinks that it might have been smarter to call you with Lando his phone. Before he can change anything, you already pick up the phone. 
“Hi Oscar, what’s up?” You ask him with a surprised tone in your voice.
“Hey, sorry for calling you this late. I hope I didn’t awake you?” Oscar says with a guilty feeling.
“Oh no,” you’re quick to reassure him, “I was still up, I’m waiting for Lando to get back. I can’t sleep peacefully when he’s still out.”
Oscar really wants to slap the both of you until you’re dating each other. Why aren’t you dating yet? He’s getting more tired about the obliviousness between you two with the day. 
“Uh, okay,” he reacts, “Listen, Lando is really drunk and I can’t get him in a cab. He wants you to pick us up. Sorry. I already tried to get him into multiple cabs but with no succes.”
He doesn’t get a quick response this time. Oscar does however hear some vague sounds on your side of the call. Are you actually getting ready to pick them up? Oscar doesn’t believe it. It would be more logical for you to ask to speak to Lando and tell him he needs to get into the cab. He waits for you to say something. 
“Can you text me the location?” You ask Oscar eventually, “I’m already walking towards the car.” 
Oscar doesn’t know how to react at first. He feels extremely confused. Are you really this quick to drop everything so you can come pick up Lando? He now knows for sure that Lando needs to question himself. Lando should ask you to date directly. The two of you should be dating already. This is just plain stupid.
“Yes, yes!” He says to you, “Thank you so much.” Even with all his confused feelings right now, he’s still glad that you’re already getting into the car. You’re making his night a lot easier. 
“Okay, I’ll see you in a bit,” you tell Oscar before ending the call. Oscar is quick to send you his location and sits down next to Lando on the pavement. Lando sends him a hopeful look. 
“She’s insane,” Oscar tells his friend, he’s still confused by your simple reaction. “You really need to ask her on a date soon mate, because why on earth is she coming to pick us up at this time if she isn’t feeling anything for you?”
“That’s our friendship,” Lando answers, “don’t look into this too much.”
“You’re stupid,” Oscar sighs annoyed.
“But she’s coming?” Lando asks. His drunk mind isn’t active enough to realize that this means that you’re coming to pick them up. “Yes,” Oscar replies.
It doesn’t take you longer then ten minutes to arrive at Lando and Oscars location. When you park Lando his rental car on the sideway next to them, they’re quick to step in. Or better said, Oscar is quick to help Lando up and to get into the passenger seat next to you. After that he takes place on the backseat. In the mean time Oscar thanks you multiple times for picking them up this quick.
“Oh it’s nothing,” you shrug it off, “but why is Lando this drunk?” You could have asked the question to Lando himself, but he hasn’t said anything since he’s seated next to you. He is however quite touchy. His hand has found it’s way to your thigh. 
Oscar doubts about his answer, he can’t really tell you about Pierre his statements right? Eventually he just tells you that Lando took to many shots. He doesn’t say anything about the earlier conversations with Pierre in which Lando drank away multiple strong drinks. You chuckle after hearing Oscar his explanation. 
“He really can’t handle his shots,” you joke.
“I noticed,” Oscar sighs, “He kept asking for you though, is that normal when he’s drunk?” Oscar hopes you understand the hint. Since Lando isn’t doing anything about his crush, Oscar decides to help his teammate a bit by dropping some hints. 
“Oh I normally pick him up after he drinks, so I guess it’s out of habit,” you tell Oscar without even thinking about it. Oscar realizes that you don’t get it as well. You’re just as clueless as Lando himself. “But I don’t get why he is this silent,” you continue, “normally Lando is rather talkative when he’s drunk.”
Oscar doesn’t think about his next words. “I think he’s a bit busy with staring at you,” he states. You let out a soft laugh and let go of the steer with one hand, softly giving Lando a small squeeze in his hand before returning to the steering wheel. Lando shows you a small grin. You realize that Oscar is right, Lando has been staring at you since he is in the car. That’s not his normal drunk behavior. You wonder where this is coming from. 
When you’re back at the hotel, you start to realize how drunk Lando is. He’s barely getting out of the car by himself and he can’t walk without almost falling over every time. Oscar and you are both supporting Lando by a side while walking towards the elevator. Lando leans a bit onto you, causing you to almost fall over as well. 
“Do you want to bring him back to his room together?” Oscar asks you. 
“Oh it’ll be fine, we’re sharing a room,” you quickly answer, “You already did enough.”
Oscar shows you a confused look. He didn’t realize that Lando and you shared a room. Is this something that you do every time Lando takes you with him to a race weekend? Is this normal for the two of you? Everything about it screams ‘dating’ but Oscar doubts that either of you knows about that. 
“You’re sure that you two aren’t dating each other?” Oscar asks even confused.
“Can I be honest?” You ask. Oscar is quick to say yes. “Sometimes I think we’re dating as well,” you tell Oscar honestly, “but to answer your question, we’re not dating.” 
Oscar decides to push his luck with his next question. He needs to know it for sure. “Do you want to date him?” He asks you. You look at Lando before answering Oscar his question. It seems like Lando is in his own world right now. He isn’t paying attention to your soft conversation with Oscar. Something that causes you to have to opportunity to be honest with Oscar right now.
“Yes,” you confess, “Why would I otherwise drop everything to come with him to every race he wants me to? And why would I drive late at night in an unknown city to pick him up while he could easily take a cab?”
“Maybe you should tell him that,” Oscar says softly, “because I’m pretty sure that Lando feels the same about you. Don’t you think?” 
The elevator makes a loud sound to tell you that you’re on the right floor. “Oh I need to get out here,” you tell Oscar, “See you later!” 
Oscar sighs. “Yeah,” he says, “Thanks for picking us up again.”
When you finally reached Lando and yours hotel room, it’s another job to get Lando into the bed. You’re glad that you have seen him naked before, because this would have been the first time other wise. Lando is undressing himself, but almost falling over a couple times while doing so. You decide to undress yourself as well, it doesn’t take long before you’re only wearing Lando his shirt and a string. 
Lando is quick to grab you and drag you into the bed with him. He pushes his body against yours, causing you to feel his member against your ass. Lando plays with your hair in the mean time. You notice the smell of alcohol every time Lando breathes. You stay silent about it. 
“Babygirl,” Lando eventually says with a soft voice. It’s the first thing he has said since you have picked him up. He doesn’t continue with his question. You move yourself around, causing you to face Lando. “Yeah?” You ask him. 
“Would you date Pierre?” Lando asks you without giving it a second thought. He’s annoyed about his own bluntness right now. You on the other hand wonder about his question, where did this come from? 
“No,” you answer Lando without really thinking about it, “Pierre seems a fuckboy. He isn’t my type.”
“Thank god,” Lando whispers relieved. 
Before you can say anything else, Lando continues to ask questions. 
“What about Logan, would you date him?” Lando continues. 
“No,” you answer rather quickly. “I don’t think that I’m made to be an American,” you joke. 
Lando asks you another question. You can barely hear him. To be honest, you wonder if you did hear him correctly. Is he really asking you this? 
“Would you date me?” Lando asks you as soft as he can manage. This time he really curses himself. Why did he just ask that? He doesn’t even want to hear your answer. You’re going to say no - just like you don’t want to date Pierre or Logan, you also don’t want to date him. “Just joking,” Lando says quickly, “I’m going to sleep. Goodnight baby.” 
You’re confused by Lando his question, but even more confused by him stating that it was a joke. Nonetheless you wish Lando goodnight as well. You even press a soft kiss against his cheek. It doesn’t take Lando long before he’s deep asleep. Just to be sure, you listen to him snore a couple times. While laying with your head on Lando his chest and listening to his restful heartbeat and deep breaths, you answer his earlier question. 
“I’d love to date you Lando,” you softly whisper, “You only have to ask.”
+++
The following morning Lando awakes with a massive headache. Memories of last night are quick to return to him. It doesn’t take long before he starts to feel ashamed. Why didn’t he just take the taxi? He is ashamed for his own actions, the whining until you picked them up but also the questions he asked you in bed later. The only feeling he can’t shake off is that he feels loved by you. He feels loved when he thinks about you actually picking him up that late in an unknown city. However when he realizes that you hate driving in unknown cities, he’s quick to replace the loved feeling for more shame. Why did he ask that from you?
He also feels ashamed for the questions he asked you before falling asleep. The shame is getting to him. But on the other hand, his questions did cause him to know for sure that you wouldn’t date Pierre or Logan. But still. There are many other boys with interest in you. 
Lando moves a bit away from you to grab his phone. He notices that it’s on the charger, he probably didn’t do that himself. He grabs his phone and reads the texts he got. The first one causes him to already feel bad once again.
Pierre Gasly: Send me y/n her number?
Lando doesn’t even react to the text. Of course he’s not going to send Pierre your number. He’s not an idiot. He ignores the message and continues to read the texts Oscar has send him.
Oscar: you better remember what y/n did for you last night
Oscar: and you better think about a way to thank her for it
Lando is quick to reply to the texts from his teammate. 
Lando: ofc I remember
Lando: how can I thank her? 
Oscar: idk, thats up to you mate
When Lando feels you moving next to him, he realizes that you’re getting awake as well. He looks at you when you slowly open your eyes and adjust them to the bright morning light in the hotel room. You let out a small yawn. The tiredness hasn’t left your body after sleeping, maybe it’s caused by the lack of sleep from last night. 
“Hey Lan,” you softly greet him, “How are you feeling?”
“Terrible,” Lando confesses, “Sorry for last night princess.” 
“It’s okay,” you quickly tell Lando, “you always pick me up as well when I’m drunk, so I could finally do something back for you.” 
“But I could have gotten into the cab,” Lando sighs while feeling annoyed with himself once again, “I know you hate driving in unknown cities and certainly in the night.”  
“Lan,” you softly say while grabbing his hand and drawing small circles on it, “It’s fine, really. I don’t mind it.” 
Lando shows you a boyish grin. You wonder what his next actions are. What is he going to say? His following movements cause that you can already guess it. Lando slowly drapes himself on top of you. He presses soft kisses on your face before lowering his face to other body parts of you. He toys with the waistband the waistband of your string. Happy that you’re not wearing anything else then that string and his shirt. Eventually Lando pulls away your string and throws it onto the ground. 
“Maybe I can thank you like this?” Lando mutters. After saying those words, he’s already pressing kisses against your more private parts. When he presses a soft kiss against your clit and he hears a moan coming from your lips, he feels his own boxers tighten as well. He slides his finger through your slit. It doesn’t take him long to notice that you’re already getting wet. He makes sure to ignore your clit for now, just licking around it slowly. He know he’s a terrible tease, but he can’t help himself. He loves hearing you whine and beg for him. 
“Lan,” you softly whine when he lets his finger enter you, but still uses a slow pace. It’s making you feel all kind of things, but not enough. Lando shows you another boyish grin. “Teasing me isn’t thanking me,” you tell him when his pace keeps unchanged. 
“Patience babygirl,” Lando tells you. You let out a moan when he finally presses his lips onto your clit and softly sucks it inside his mouth. He adds another finger inside your pussy, causing you to let out hard moan. “Fuck,” you mutter. Lando increases his pace with his fingers. You can properly say that he’s finger fucking you right now. He is more aggressive then normal, but in a strange way you like this only more. 
“Fuck Lan,” you let out when he adds another finger. 
“Who’s making you feel this good babygirl?” Lando asks you. He doesn’t know where it’s coming from, but he feels the need to hear you say it’s him. Now that he thinks about it, he knows pretty well that this is happening because of (mainly) Pierre. And all the other boys that have showed their interest in you. 
You show Lando a small smirk, “Hm, I don’t know,” you joke. 
“You don’t know?” Lando asks you with a raised eyebrow. He didn’t expect this answer from you. Since when can you act bratty like this? He shows you a stern look, but increases his pace in the mean time. He’ll show you who makes you feel like this. Lando feels you clenching around his fingers. He sucks harshly onto your clit before releasing it to look at you. 
You haven’t said anything again, the only sound leaving your tongue are moans. While looking stares at you and thinks about his next action, you feel your orgasm reaching. This time Lando decreases his pace. He removes two of his fingers and is barely doing anything that the finger that stays inside of you. 
“Fuck Lan,” you whine, “Why did you stop?”
“That’s what you deserve for that answer,” Lando simply states. He knows that he should be a bit more patient and calm with you, not showing you all of his dominant side - but right now, he can’t really help himself. You show Lando a desperate look, “It was just a joke,” you tell him. 
Lando removes his last finger as well. You can’t even help yourself and try to move yourself closer to him. Fuck, you want him to continue. 
“Funny,” Lando remarks sarcastically. 
“Sorry Lan,” you whine, “Please continue?”
“No,” he states sternly, “You can work for it yourself now.”
Lando pulls you onto his thigh. Making sure that your pussy is right on top of it. He feels your wetness on his thigh on only seconds. “Want to orgasm?” He asks you. You can only nod. “Then help yourself on my thigh.”
“How?” You ask helplessly, you have no idea what Lando means. 
“Grind on it,” Lando explains with a softer voice then before, “move your body and you’ll notice what feels right for you.” 
You try to act out Lando his instructions. It takes you a couple movements before getting what he meant. Now that you know how to do this right, it’s making you feel good. Really good. But not good enough for your orgasm to get closer then before. Lando continues to tease you into the mean time. His hands wander over your body while you keep riding his thigh. He finds your tits and starts to knead them. Suddenly he pinches your nipples, both of them at the same time. You let out a surprised squeak. You feel them burn a bit because of the pinch, but in a strange way it makes you feel even more horny. You try to ride his thigh faster then before. Lando watches your reactions closely, when he pinches your nipples again he can safely say that you like the feeling. He knows for sure when he does it a third time and it causes you to let out a hard moan. 
“Feels good, doesn’t it princess?” Lando asks you. 
“Yeah,” you tell him.
Lando knows you want to say more, he knows this isn’t the same as what he was doing to you before. And maybe, really maybe, that was exactly his plan. “But?” He asks you.
“It’s not enough,” you confess with red cheeks. 
Lando lets out a deep chuckle. “That’s what you get after your bratty joke,” he tells you sternly. You show him the most pleading eyes you can manage, but Lando shakes his head at you. “Why do you deserve my help?” He asks you. 
“Please Lan,” you whine, “I can’t do this myself.”
“Do what?” Lando knows perfectly well that you’re talking about reaching your orgasm, but he wants you to say it for yourself. 
“Orgasm,” you whisper ashamed. 
“What do you want me to do?” He asks, “And make sure that I understand how much you need me.”
You ride his thigh even faster then earlier, but it’s still not enough. “Help me Lan,” you softly beg him, “Please?” Lando doesn’t reply. You continue your pleas. “I need you,” you whimper, “can’t come without you.” Even when those aren’t causing him to help you, you keep continuing. “No one can make me feel like you can,” you tell Lando without giving it a second thought. “Need you to make me feel good.”
That causes Lando to finally land his hands on your body. His ego is almost getting to big for himself right now after hearing all your pleas. He grabs your hips and helps you with your movements. For a moment he wonders if you can come undone just like this, but he decides he doesn’t want to find it. At least, not today. You deserve his help. Lando feels the wetness from your cunt dripping onto him. His thigh is unbelievably wet right now. 
He removes one of his hands from your waist. You directly look at him, wondering if he’s going to stop again. But Lando lets his hand wander to your clit. He starts to stimulate your clitoris, pulling out multiple moans of you. He notices that you’re coming really close right now. His thigh is even getting more wet because of you. Before you cum, he takes a moment to take it in. You look so beautiful riding on his thigh like this, making it wet without feeling ashamed about it just for your own pleasure. His boner is almost bursting. He should picture you like this and show it to every other boy - that way they would know that you’re his. Not that you are. Maybe if everyone smelled his thigh right now they would already get it, since he doesn’t want anyone else to see you like this. 
Fuck, he needs to make you his. Why aren’t you his already? 
When you let out a loud moan, Lando realizes that you are getting awfully close to your orgasm right now. “Ask me,” Lando instructs you. He doesn’t even need to specify himself, you’re already asking him exactly what he wants.
“Can I come?” You ask him, “Please Lan?” 
“Yes babygirl,” Lando answers, “You deserve it.”
That’s all it takes for you to come undone. Your orgasm is crashing over you. Lando pulls you into his arms and lets you fall down over his body. 
“Fucking hell,” you mutter after a bit, “it’s actually insane how you can make me feel.”
“It wasn’t too much?” Lando asks you. Looking back at it, he did go further then he wanted. He stresses that he was a bit too dominant for you. 
“No,” you reply without even thinking about it, “I don’t think it was even close to ‘too much’,” you add honestly. 
“I can push more?” He asks you surprised. 
“Yes,” you state, “I think I’d like that.”
Lando lets out a soft chuckle and shakes his head. He really can’t believe it. You’re actually perfect. He really needs to tell you about his feelings. Maybe now is a good timing? In the mean time you grab your phone and look at it. Lando notices your surprised face.
“Any idea why Pierre Gasly is texting me?” You ask Lando confused.
Fucking hell. Lando lets out an annoyed sigh. Fuck. He shakes his head to answer you. You open the message and start to read it aloud to Lando.
“Hey,” you start reading, “Got your number from Daniel. You’re really hot. Let’s get to know each other on a date?”
Hot? Lando cringes by the words of Pierre. He doesn’t even know how hot you can be. In the mean time Lando also curses his former teammate, why did Daniel send him your number? 
“What are you going to answer?” Lando asks you quickly. He can’t even help himself and starts to talk badly about Pierre. “You know Pierre is a terrible player right?” He realizes that his jealousy is showing, but he can’t help it. He needs to know that you’re not going to date Pierre. 
“I told you yesterday that I wouldn’t date Pierre,” you tell Lando, “so that’s still the answer.”
Lando doesn’t react verbally. He pulls you back on top of him and presses kisses against your every inch of your face. Lastly putting his lips on your mouth. Thank god. He realizes that the universe is sending him all the hints he can get about needing to ask you to be his girlfriend instead of friend. He really needs to tell you about his feelings. But how? And when? 
part eight
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finnlongman · 4 months
Text
When I was an undergrad, I made a point of trying to sidetrack my supervisors as much as possible during supervisions, so that we could go off on a tangent and use up half the time discussing something barely related to my essay, and therefore have less time to dwell on its flaws.
(For those unfamiliar with the Cambridge supervision system, each week you're required to write an essay about a topic you probably knew nothing about before being handed the reading list, and then you spend an hour discussing it one-on-one, or in small groups depending on the subject, with your supervisor, who may be a random PhD student or may be the person who wrote half the reading list, depending on your luck.)
Once, I'd had a particularly bad week and had not written my essay about Scandinavian settlement in England, so I was having a more discussion-based supervision drawing on some bullet points I'd written. This would have been in my first term of first year, if I remember correctly. And we were talking about reasons why Vikings might settle rather than simply raiding, and my supervisor made some comment about them wanting "somewhere to wash their socks".
Sensing a potential avenue for distraction and also genuinely curious, I immediately asked, "Did Vikings wear socks?". My supervisor took the bait, and we passed the next ten minutes discussing a sock found preserved in York, of seemingly Scandinavian make, that would appear to answer that question in the affirmative. I remember very little else from that module, but nine years down the line, I remembered that there was a Scandinavian-style sock found in York.
Anyway, today I showed up to the department's graduate presentations (compulsory) and discovered that the first of the two talks was entirely about this sock. I was honestly so pleased. I now know several more things about this sock! I have some details to pad out my vague understanding that there was something distinctive about how it was made! I have been introduced to the complex question of "did the English wear socks or were they a Scandinavian fashion?"! (Answer: there is no definitive evidence for widespread early English sock-wearing, but textile evidence is complicated, so this may not be conclusive.)
This is probably not what most people took from the "England Before The Normans" paper, but frankly, I never was any good at keeping track of kings. I would rather learn about the socks. And today -- just as in that supervision nine years ago -- I did.
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roosterr · 9 months
Text
white flag ✹ proglogue
note: can't believe i'm actually writing for ghost, yes he was the reason i got into cod, but i havent thought about him since like january lol. has this trope already been done? yes. am i doing it anyway? also yes.
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pairing: ghost x gn!reader
wc: 2.2k
no use of y/n readers callsign is 'stingray'
summary: if there's one constant in your life, it's that ghost doesn't like you, so when your house burns down and you have no choice but to move in with him, it feels like your life is on a steady downhill spiral.
warnings: slowburn, some angst, your house burns down, ghost is mean, sort of enemies to friends to lovers
ao3
【next】
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it's been almost a year since you'd joined the taskforce. nearly twelve months of gruelling hard work, and not for a single second had lieutenant ghost treated you with a shred of familiarity. at first, you thought he'd get over it, that he'd get past his obvious trust issues and warm up to you eventually, but you quickly gave up on that idea.
clearly, you'd been too optimistic.
which was unfortunate, considering how much you'd come to care for the prickly bastard, no matter how dismissive he was of you. it started slow; when you were first recruited, you held a great deal of respect for him because of his reputation, and you'd naively even looked forward to working with him. when you discovered his less than friendly demeanour, to say you were disheartened would be an understatement. he was withdrawn and stoic, never sparing you so much as a passing glance and a barked order,  whether you were in the field or not.
the other sergeants had assured you that he wasn't as cold as he comes across; soap and gaz both told you how he'd acted the same towards them when they first met – he was a lone wolf, not used to having to look out for teammates.
the more time you spent on missions with him, the more you saw of the person beneath the hard exterior. you saw how he seemed to know everyone's strengths and weaknesses, things you never would've picked up on. he always made sure the team had eaten, disguised as a gruff order to stay on your game. when he got angry, it would be because someone put themselves in danger, not because they screwed up the mission. you saw someone who'd been through hell and come out the other side swinging.
before, you'd respected ghost as a soldier and your superior, but now, after spending so much time with him, your perspective of him has changed. he intrigued you; he's quiet, introverted but not shy, more observant than you could imagine, and so closely guarded you wondered if he'd ever be able to open up. you'd only heard whispers of the things he'd been through in the past, so despite his obvious animosity towards you, you treated him with the respect you thought he deserved – like a person, and you'd hoped that with time, he could see you as more than just a soldier too. though he still didn't like you, you liked to think that the two of you have come to some sort of understanding.
and that leads you to your problem; you wanted to know him. every tiny crack in his facade made you more and more curious about the man behind the mask – about simon, rather than ghost, but from what you could tell, he didn't hold the same sentiment about you. where he would banter back and forth with the others over comms, he'd fall silent whenever you join in. every minute little mistake was amplified to him, you've lost count of the amount of times he's berated you for things he's excused for others. it made your heart ache that you just couldn't win with him, and you feared you'd never understand why.
but now, as you sit shivering with a shock blanket wrapped around your shoulders, watching the smouldering remains of what was your home in the middle of the night, freezing and exhausted, you'd never felt more hated.
you could hear them, ghost and the captain, talking in hushed voices a little ways down the road from where you sit. they probably think they're being subtle, discussing what to do with you like you're not even there, like every single one of your worldly possessions hadn't just gone up in smoke, but you hear them as if they're standing right in front of you.
"i wouldn't do this if there were any other options, simon."
"there are plenty of other options, just stick 'em in a hotel for god's sake."
"there's no hotels close enough to base – it'll only be temporary, 'till we can find 'em somewhere else."
"fuckin' hell, why cant they go with one of the others?"
"soap and gaz are already flatmates, you live alone and you're the closest to base. this is the only option that makes sense."
"i'm not fuckin' happy about this, price."
their profiles are momentarily illuminated by the blue lights from the fire engine parked nearby, allowing you for a second to see the withering glare ghost is sending your way, and all of a sudden the last couple hours of emotional distress is crashing down on you; his obvious distaste for you combined with the toll of watching your house literally burning down was too much for you all at once. you could feel the tears start to spill over again, but you can’t find the strength to stop them and just bring the shock blanket closer to your face. you’d lost everything, and even now he couldn’t find it in himself to feel an ounce of compassion for you? why can’t he care for you like he does the others? like you do for him?
as your watery gaze drops to the soot and ash covering your pyjamas, a voice sounds from beside you, the opposite direction from price and ghost. you don’t even realise you’re hyperventilating until they lay a hand on your shoulder and rub soothing circles into your back.
“hey– hey, it’s okay,” it’s gaz, you notice in the back of your mind, sitting on the curb next to you. you squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to block out the world around you, and gaz brings you closer into his embrace. “you’ll be alright, we’ll get everything sorted, yeah?”
"i– i don't– i can't–" you try to speak, but you can't seem to form a coherent sentence through your sobbing.
"it's alright, just breathe for me." gaz hugs you tighter again, your head coming to rest on his shoulder as he consoles you. for a few minutes you stay like that, your breathing eventuslly returning to normal and the tears slowing to a stop.
price and ghost are still arguing, but you can't hear what they're saying anymore; probably for the best, if you had to listen to ghost complain about you for one more second you might really have a breakdown.
soap's voice cuts through the fog in your mind, "managed to find this, thought ya' might want it." you look up to find him crouching in front of you and holding out a slightly singed photo, a weak smile on his face. "frame's broken, but the picture's still mostly fine."
you take it from him, fingers grasping the card gently as you turn it around to look at the picture. it's from a few years ago, you and your friends from your previous unit, smiling into the camera as if you had no worries at all. staring at the ghosts of your friends starts you crying again, clutching the photo to your chest and leaning back into gaz's shoulder. if anything could've survived the blaze, you're grateful it was this. gaz rubs your arm sofly, whispering comforting words to you again.
you hear another set of footsteps approach and look up again to see price now standing in front of you as well. it's not exactly surprising, but ghost is nowhere to be seen.
"ambulance is here," price says, offering you a hand and pulling you to your feet when you take it. "i'll follow behind to the hospital, one of you two take their car to simon's."
you nod and retrieve your car keys from your jacket pocket, thankful you'd had the mind to grab it on your way out in your frantic state.
"I've got a bag in the boot, it's got some clothes in it." you mutter, handing the keys to soap, who smiles and gives you a pat on the shoulder.
"no bother, i'll grab it for ya." he says, and jogs off to where your car was parked, thankfully untouched out of reach of the fire. he returns not a minute layer carrying your duffle of emergency supplies, something you never thought would actually come in handy.
before you know it you're waving gaz and soap goodbye, the paramedics are guiding you to the back of the ambulance, and you're leaving what remains of your old home in the rear-view mirror.
✹✹✹
you hated hospitals. it was a fact, and it had been that way since you were a child, everything about them just made your skin crawl. perhaps you inherited the feeling from your mother; she always managed to bring up her distaste for the place whenever the topic arose. or, maybe you only hated them because they scared you.
either way, the relief you felt as you stepped out of the front door into the car park with price trailing behind you was palpable. he falls into step next to you as the two of you make your way over to where he parked, his keys jingling as he fishes them from his pocket.
"we're puttin' you up with simon for the time being, 'till we can get you somewhere else." his words make you wince; you already knew he was going to say that, but it didn't stop the anxiety from bubbling up in your chest.
"i heard." a beat of silence passes before you continue. "how long will that take?" you ask, climbing into the passenger seat and dropping your bag at your feet as price settles into the driver's side.
"i wouldn't get your hopes up. might be quicker to wait for 'em to rebuild your old place." he flashes you a smile, but you can't find it in yourself to return the gesture.
"right."
neither of you say another word as he starts the engine and pulls out of the car park. you turn to look out the window, watching the world go by, the quiet rambling of the radio serving as white noise in the background. it's the early hours of the morning now, the sun would be up in a few hours and you'd have to go back to work already – price did say you could have the day off, but honestly the last thing you wanted was to sit around all day with nothing to do but overthink.
after nearly ten minutes of trying to ignore it, the worry playing at your mind becomes too much to keep to yourself.
"you know he hates me, right?" you utter, half expecting price to ignore your question all together.
he clicks his tongue. "he doesn't hate you," price replies, and his voice sounds reassuring but it doesn't bring you much comfort.
"okay, well, he doesn't like me either." you turn your head to look at him, raising your brows. rolling to a stop at a red light, he meets your eyes and huffs.
"alright, he can be difficult–"
"really?"
"–but i promise you, he doesn't hate you." he says. you give him a disbelieving look, and he sighs, looking back to the road as the light turns green. "give him a chance, alright?"
"is he gonna give me a chance?" 
"he will." price says firmly, sparing you a look as he drives down the quiet road. "and if he doesn't, you'll knock some sense into him, eh?"
"sure…" you mutter, looking back out the window and falling back into silence. its only a few minutes until he's pulling over to the side of the road, outside the house number you know to be ghost's.
"sting," price calls out, stopping you as you reach for the door handle, "he'll come around, alright?"
"it's been a year, cap. i don't think he will." you reply, and before he can say anything else you open the door and step out into the night air, grabbing your bag from your feet before closing the door again. you give price a half-hearted wave as he pulls away again, before turning around and gazing up at your – temporary – new home.
it was nice, all things considered; a standard terrace on the end of the row, but the size has you wondering if there was even room for you to stay here. though it's not as if you have a choice. all the lights were off, which had you hopeful that you wouldn't run into ghost just yet.
you drag yourself to the front door, your eyes stinging from the effort of keeping them open, and twist the handle as quietly as possible, closing it behind you and cringing at the clunk it makes. thankfully ghost didn't hate you enough to lock you out for the night, something you actually wouldn't put past him considering how he feels about you.
there's a small side table in the entryway that catches your attention. on top of it sits your car keys – you make a mental note to thank soap in the morning – a new key, and a note. you pick up the paper, using the torch from your phone to examine the scratchy handwriting.
living room's yours. lock the door. – s
it's more than you expected from him. you sigh to yourself and pick up the other key, locking the door and shuffling into the small living room. the pull-out bed is made up for you, albeit quite messily, and you waste no time in dropping your stuff and laying your head down on the lumpy pillow.
with any luck, this arrangement wouldn't last long, but in the meantime you got the feeling you were in for a bumpy ride.
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comradekatara · 6 days
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Your atla analysis is the best so I wanted to ask your opinion on something I've found the fandom fairly divided on - what did you think of Azula's ending within the show proper? Unnecessarily cruel or a necessary tragedy? Would you say that her mental breakdown was too conveniently brought about in order to 'nerf' her for the final agni kai? Also, do you think it was 'right' for Zuko to have fought with his sister at all or would it have been better for him to seek a more humane way to end the cycle of violence?
okay so im saying this as someone who loves azula to death like she has always been one of my absolute favorite characters ever since i was a kid and i’ve always vastly preferred her to zuko and found her to be extremely compelling and eminently sympathetic. i am saying this now before the azula stans come for me. i believe in their beliefs. but i also think her downfall is perfectly executed, and putting aside all the bullshit with the comics and whatever else, it’s a really powerful conclusion to her arc. obviously that isn’t to say that she wouldn’t continue to grow and develop in a postcanon scenario (i have a whole recovery arc for her mapped out in my head, like i do believe in her Healing Journey) but from a narrative perspective, her telos is in fact very thematically satisfying.
no, she wasn’t nerfed so that they could beat her in a fight. the fact that she falls apart is what makes them feel that they can confidently take her on (although i do think in a fair fight katara could win anyway), but the whole point is that it’s not about winning or losing in combat. the whole point is that zuko and azula being pitted against each other in this gratuitous ritual of violence as the culmination of their arcs is fundamentally tragic. yes it’s a bad decision to fight her, and zuko should have chosen another path, but the whole point is that he’s flawed and can only subscribe to the logic he has spent his whole life internalizing through violence and abuse.
that’s why aang’s fight against ozai, while tragic in its own way, is also a triumph for the way in which his ideals prevail in the face of genocide, while zuko and azula’s fight is very patently tragic. there is no moment of victory or triumph. even as zuko sacrifices himself in a beautiful mirroring of “the crossroads of destiny” and as katara uses the element of her people combined with techniques across other cultures to use azula’s hubris and ideology of domination against her, it’s presented as moments of personal growth occurring within a very tragic yet inevitable situation. it was inevitable because azula had always been positioned as an extension of her father, and thus to disempower ozai also means disempowering azula, his favorite site of projection, his favorite weapon.
yeah, it does rub me the wrong way when zuko asks katara whether she’d like to help him “put azula in her place.” it’s not a kind way to talk about your abused younger sister. but it’s also important to understand that zuko doesn’t really recognize his sister’s pain, despite the fact that they obviously share a father, because he’s always assumed that she was untouchable as their perfect golden child and thus never a victim. and he’s wrong. zuko and katara expect a battle of triumph and glory, noble heroes fighting valiantly so that good may prevail over evil. but as they discover here, even more so than their previous discovery two episodes prior, a battle is not a legendary event filled with bombast and beauty until after it has been historicized. often a war is simply fought between pathetic, desperate people who see no other option but to fight.
aang’s ultimate refusal to fight despite having all the power in the world is what makes him so important as the protagonist. but katara and zuko both share a more simplistic view of morality and what it means to be good. and zuko assumes that by fighting azula, he can only be punching up, because she has always been positioned as his superior, and she (in her own words!) is a “monster.” and then azula loses, and his entire worldview shatters. joking about putting her in her place makes way for the realization that behind all her posturing and lying (to herself more than anyone) and performance and cognitive dissonance, azula has always been broken, perhaps even more than he is.
azula says “im sorry it has to end this way, brother,” to which zuko replies “no you’re not.” but i think azula is truly sorry, because in her ideal world, she wouldn’t be fighting zuko. she doesn’t actually want to kill him, as much as she claims to. she’s already reached the conclusion that zuko will only truly reach once their fight is over. she lacks a support system, and she needs one, desperately. if she could somehow get her family back, do everything differently, less afraid of the consequences, she would. she’s smirking, she sounds almost facetious, but really, she is sorry. as of this moment, she really doesn’t want it to end this way. but zuko cannot accept that, because in his mind, azula is evil. azula has no soul nor feeling. azula always lies.
her breakdown doesn’t come out of nowhere, either. it’s precipitated by everyone she has ever cared about betraying her. first zuko betrays her, then mai, then ty lee, and then ozai — the person she has staked her entire identity to and to whom she has pledged her undying loyalty and obedience, become nothing more than a vessel for his whims — discards her because she had the audacity to care about someone other than him. what i don’t think zuko realizes, and perhaps will never realize, is that azula betrayed ozai by bringing zuko back home. he was not supposed to be brought back with honor and with glory. azula specifically orchestrated the fight in the catacombs to motivate him to join her, and it’s not because she’s some cruel sadistic monster who wanted to separate a poor innocent soft uwu bean from his loving uncle, it’s because she genuinely believes that she’s doing what’s best for him. she believes that their uncle is a traitor and a bad influence, and she believes that bringing zuko home with his honor “restored” is an act of love. to her it is.
yes, she claims that she was actually just manipulating him so that she wouldn’t have to take the fall if the avatar was actually alive, but also, she’s clearly just covering her own ass. she didn’t know about the spirit water, and only started improvising when zuko started showing hesitation. but even if she was only using zuko, then that was an insane risk to take, because either way she was lying directly to ozai’s face. and zuko admits it to ozai while simultaneously committing treason, so of course ozai would blame azula, his perfect golden child who tried to violate his decree by bringing zuko back home a prisoner at best and dead at worst, and instead found a way to restore his princehood with glory.
we only see ozai dismissing and discarding azula in the finale, but it’s clearly a tension that’s been bubbling since the day of black sun. and we know this because we do see azula falling apart before the finale. in “the boiling rock” she is betrayed by her only friends. in “the southern raiders” we see that this has taken a toll on her, that she is already somewhat unhinged. she and zuko tie in a one on one fight for the first time. and she takes down her hair as she uses her hairpin to secure herself against the edge of a cliff. unlike zuko, who is helped by his friends and allies, who has a support system. it’s a very precarious position; she’s literally on a cliff’s edge, alone, her hair down signifying her unraveling mental state. azula having her hair down signals to us an audience that she is in a position of vulnerability. she is able to mask this terrifying moment wherein she nearly plummets to her death with a triumphant smirk, but it should be evident to us all that her security is fragile here.
and the thing is, even though she’s always masked it with a smirk and perfect poise, her security has always been fragile. azula has never been safe. azula’s breakdown is simply the culmination of her realization that no matter how hard she tries, she will never be ozai’s perfect weapon, because she is a human being. she is a child, no less. and there is no one in her entire life who loves her for nothing. zuko has iroh, who affirms to him that he could never be angry with zuko, that all he wants is simply what is best for zuko. but azula doesn’t have unconditional support in her life. she doesn’t even have support.
everyone she ever thought she could trust has betrayed her, and so she yells that trust is for fools. because she feels like a fool. of course fear is the only way; it’s what kept her in line all these years. azula is someone who is ruled by fear, and who is broken by the recognition that fear isn’t enough. her downfall is necessarily tragic because her worldview is wrong. the imperialist logic of terror as a tool for domination is her own undoing, just as ozai’s undoing is losing the weapon he has staked his national identity to. it’s a battle of ideals. aang v ozai: pacifism v imperialism. katara and zuko v azula: love and support v fear and isolation.
zuko is unfair to azula, it’s true. he tries to fight her even as he can clearly recognize that “she’s slipping.” instead of trying to help his little sister, he uses that weakness to his advantage, tries to exploit her pain so that he can finally, for the first time ever, beat her in a fight. it’s cruel, but it’s also how siblings act. especially considering the conditions under which they were raised, and how zuko has always viewed her. and in zuko’s defense, she has tried to kill him multiple times lately, both in “the boiling rock” and in “the southern raiders.” zuko is someone who gets fixated on a goal and blocks out everything else, including recognition of his surroundings or empathy for others. so of course when he’s promised to put azula in her place he’s going to exploit her weaknesses to do so. after all, isn’t exploiting his weaknesses exactly what azula does best? so he allows himself to stoop to her level, and in fact only redeems himself through his sacrifice for katara. but it is when azula is chained to the grate and zuko and katara, leaning on each other, look down and observe the sheer extent on her pain, that zuko realizes that “putting azula in her place” isn’t actually a victory. it feels really, really bad, actually.
they’re in a similar position as they were when they faced yon rha. and now it is zuko’s turn to understand that he is not a storybook hero triumphing over evil, but rather a human being, facing another human being, in a conflict that is larger than themselves. to “put someone in their place” is to imply a logic of domination, of inherent superiority, that someone has stepped out of line and must be reordered neatly into the hierarchy. but aang disputes the notion, ozai’s notion, that humanity can be classified along these lines, that there exists an ontological superiority among some and not others. so operation: putting azula in her place was always going to be flawed, even if she was performing competency the way she always does, because they’re nonetheless subscribing to her logic.
of course they should be helping azula, of course they should be reaching out to abuse victims through support instead of more violence. but first they must recognize her victimhood. first they must come to understand that they didn’t get lucky, and they didn’t dominate her because they are more “powerful,” that they weren’t “putting her in her place.” they must understand that they are not heroes fighting villains in a glorious trial by combat. that the logic of the agni kai is flawed. that they are all victims. that they are all just scared, hurt children who are still grieving their mothers.
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peachypinkygloss · 7 months
Text
fanatic love — pjm
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When Jimin knew about your crush on him, you didn't expect him to invite you to his apartment and to get rid of your clothes once there, but you surely don't mind at all.
ꨄ︎ pairing: popular!jimin x inexperienced/fem!reader
ꨄ︎ genre: college au, friends to lovers, smut
ꨄ︎ word count: 4k
ꨄ︎ warnings: she's DOWN BAD, but jimin likes how in love she is with him, dom jimin/sub reader, praising & degradation, a bit of dumbification, unprotected sex, masturbation (f & m), brief anal play, lots of cum (as always), overstimulation, multiple orgasms.
a.n.: you ask and you shall receive 🫶🏻 call me!jk's next on the list :)
When Jimin discovered you had a big fat crush on him, it's not what you thought would happen.
You're not good at keeping secrets, even your own, so your friends knew all about your silly crush on Park Jimin — the godly handsome popular boy from your college.
You've never really talked to him, but it doesn't take you a lot to fall in love. To be frank, the only thing you share with him is a friend group and even then you've never had the chance to exchange more than three words with him.
Well, all of this has changed now. Never in a million years you'd have thought you'd step foot into his apartment, not even his bedroom, and surely not to have that type of conversation with him — if you can call it a conversation anyway.
But here you are, backing away as he steps forward, looking intensely into your eyes. He has such a serious expression on his face and you don't understand why he does, the only thing you know is that it's making your panties wet. Really wet.
"You'd do everything I ask, right?" His voice is soft, but also stern, making you swallow as stress rises up in your body; heart beating faster, hands slightly trembling, sweat forming on your forehead.
His simple presence makes you anxious, wishing you'll do nothing stupid that could make him lose interest in you. Don't disappoint him.
"Yes," you murmur, your stare fixated on him and your back eventually hitting the wall behind you. You don't want to run away from him — never would you — but you're not used to all of this.
Anything he asks, you'll do. Whatever it is; a crush, love, obsession, it doesn't matter because all you want to do is please him, to be the one who'll make his day better, to be the one he'll think about just before going to sleep.
He already does those things for you, so why not do them for him, too.
"Good girl," he praises and your face immediately heats up. Hearing that from him makes you happy and you want to continue being good for him.
Up close to him like that you can see how beautiful he truly is, reminding you just how much you love him, how hard your heart beats for him.
His dark brown eyes are disconcertingly soft and his lips are round, big — looking so pillowy, so inviting. You don't feel indifferent under his gaze, that's what you like the most about it; how unique you are when he looks at you because you have to be if you catch Park Jimin's attention.
It's so hard to be that close to him and not having the permission to touch him. You'd love to feel the smoothness of his skin or have your fingers run through his thick, shiny blond hair. You like the contrast between his dark eyebrows and the bleached colour of his hair, it makes them stand out more.
"Come here, sweet thing," he tells you in a raspy voice, his tone low and making you shiver in desire. You take one step and your breaths are already mingling together, your head tilted up to look at him. "Let's get those clothes off, hm? Isn't that a good idea?"
You eagerly nod your head at him, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as his hands come to grip your white blouse. He expertly pops out the buttons one by one, your eyes following his movements closely, his touch making you feel hotter and hotter.
His fingers are adorned in many chunky silver rings, his nails are cut short and a small tattoo is hiding on the side of his index finger of his left hand. Veins are apparent on his hands going all down to his forearms, making them look so sinful and strong — the epitome of lust itself.
He opens the button that shows your breasts supported by your bra, the contact of his skin against yours making your heart skip a beat. "Your hands are so cold," you whisper to him, shyly glancing up at his face.
He doesn't look back at you, his attention being fully on unbuttoning the piece of clothing, but he answers two simple words; "I know."
Your eyes go back down to his fingers, seeing that he only has one button left and he doesn't hesitate to pop it out. He slides the material off your shoulders, throwing it away on the floor of his bedroom.
You're left in your skirt, and even though you feel very vulnerable right now with your chest out, you're impatient for him to discover the lower half of your body, too. So far, you aren't disappointing him, which feels good.
He unzips your skirt and tugs it down, falling down at your feet. You shrug it away, Jimin admiring your half nude body with his beautiful almond-eyes.
"Look at how pretty you are," he compliments. "And all for me."
You sheepishly smile when hearing these words, turned on he's addressing you as his, as if everything you do and think is about him. And he'd be right about that.
His hands hovers just over your hips, his fingertips tracing the shape of your curves, going up and down so slowly, making goosebumps appear on your skin.
Your chest heaves rapidly and the temperature of the room starts to get higher, leaving you breathless and flustered. This moment is very intimate and him being able to see what kind of underwear you wear is so, so personal.
Underclothes are like a secret you only reveal to the people you trust the most and this status doesn't go to anyone, it applies to a very selective handful of people. And in some cases, to only one person.
Jimin being this person is just unbelievable, and there's nobody else you'd let see you like that. Nobody, only him.
His hands sneak behind you to reach the clip of your bra and he swiftly unhooks it. Your eyes are on him, scared to look away for a second, as the garment falls on the ground. Your nipples harden from the cold air hitting them, Jimin's stare on them.
He licks his lips and gently cups your breasts, cutting your breath short. "How cute are they, mh?" He asks in a honeyed voice, melting your heart, taking your sanity away bit by bit.
He pinches your buds between his fingers, making them even harder, slowly circling them. You softly whine, feeling your stomach twist from the sensations he procures to you by playing with your nipples. They point at him, perky and erected, and he smirks, enjoying how they seem to really like him.
His hands descend along your stomach, your muscles twitching under his cold fingertips, teasing the band of your panties. It's when his eyes shift up to your face, maybe asking for permission or just to check up on you, that your heart jumps in your chest.
He passes his digit over the bow sewn on your underwear then teasingly going under the material, threatening to remove it. "Do you mind?" His question comes out low and breathy, his hands starting to get impatient.
"No..." You're quick to respond, shaking your head from side to side. It's all he needs before he tugs on your panties, sliding them down your legs.
You're now completely bared in front of him, his lustful eyes roaming over your body, making you feel really small under his gaze. His hand comes really close to your heat, but he only brushes his fingers against your pussy, tricking you into thinking he's going to touch you down there.
"Sweet girl, go sit on the bed for me, m'kay?" he softly demands, laying his palm on your naked hip. "Can you do that?"
You nod your head and he steps aside to let you walk to his bed placed in the corner of his room. He watches you crawl to one end of the mattress, turning around to sit on your butt.
It's not long until he joins you, a little grin gracing his plump pink lips. As he walks up to you, he gets rid of his t-shirt, revealing to you his 'nevermind' tattoo drawn on his rib cage that you'd only ever heard rumours about. Now you know it really exists and you find it absolutely stunning on him, making him look much sexier.
He removes his jeans too, but you're taken aback when he drags his boxers with them as well. His cock springs free and you can't ignore the heat you feel between your legs — it's burning.
You can't help but stare at it with rounded eyes. He's fully erected and just the fact that you're the cause of it, makes you so aroused. He's average, but girthy and curved and really ... agitated.
It twitches before you and you look at it with so much admiration — his cock is so pretty, you didn't think you'd have been so turned on by just seeing one.
But it's Jimin after all. Everything about him is perfect, pretty and hot.
He takes the other end of the bed, leaning his back against the wall. You start moving to come to him, but he stops you. "No, you stay right there, sweetheart."
"Why?" You pout, offended. You want to touch him, that's literally the only thing you want, you think. How can you not when his erection looks so hard and painful, leaking so much pre-cum just inches away from you?
"'Cause I'm gonna watch you," he explains softly, wrapping his palm around his pulsating cock. "And you're gonna watch me, sweet girl."
Oh.
He passes his left hand through his hair, getting the blond strands away from his almond shaped eyes, a watch crowning his wrist. Jimin really loves jewelry and you love it on him.
He gets comfortable, parting his legs a bit wider. You swear you have the most sinful scenery happening in front of your eyes and god, it makes your clit throb so hard.
"Don't be shy, baby," he smiles, eyes glinting, playful or maybe mischievous... "Show me your little pussy," he says and you can't deny him.
So you open your legs a bit hesitant, but you still do it. You lean against the other wall, keeping your knees bent and positioning two fingers beside your drenched cunt.
Jimin grins at the sight, lips parted as his eyes are strained down on your pussy, so much arousal leaking from it. "You're literally soaking wet. Didn't know you loved me that much," he teases and your face heats up again from embarrassment. He was never supposed to find out, but you surely won't complain right now.
"I've just... wanted this for so long," you confess in a quiet voice, slowly rubbing your pussy lips to get in the mood, carefully avoiding your clit.
He squeezes his cock, his eyes closely following your fingers, biting down on his plump bottom lip. "You should've told me, this would've happened much sooner..." He whispers back, making you fantasize about everything that could have happened if only you had the courage.
You run your hand over your tummy going up to your chest, brushing over your hard nipples. You love the small friction it creates, still a bit too shy to do more than roll the sensitive buds under your palm.
Jimin loves it, too. He grips his cock, tugging at it slightly, mimicking the same pace as you; slow and steady.
You whimper when you place a digit on your throbbing clit, beginning to draw tight circles on it. He looks at your pussy intently, his breath quickening each time your legs tremble from the pleasure or when you open your legs wider, desperate to feel more than just your small fingers.
When he stares at you, it's like he wants to get something from you — probably sexual, naively hoping it's more — and his gaze makes you shudder, ready to kneel before him, to give him everything he needs.
Oh, you definitely feel like the luckiest girl in the world right now. He chose you, not some other girl, you. You have to be special.
He fucks his fist as you toy with your bud of nerves, head rolling back and hitting the wall behind, hooded eyes focused on his hand running up and down his hard cock. You moan sweetly and he grunts at the melodic sounds, tightening his grip around his length.
He looks so good and it literally turns you crazy how far he is from you, and yet, you're both masturbating on the same bed. You grope one of your tit, palming it and kneading it in your hand, pussy clenching at the sight of Jimin stroking his wet cock.
"Please, Jimin," you whine desperately, clearly showing how needy and eager you are for him. "Let me touch you, or whatever you want, but please-"
He frowns, shaking his head, cutting you off. "No, you heard me, sweet thing," he begins, voice breathy. "Be a good girl and keep playing with your little pussy, mh?" He asks and his answer doesn't please you, but you have to behave.
You sigh, but you nod your head in agreement nonetheless. It's such a shame, you know for a fact that his cock would slip right away in your hole at how wet it is for him. He would stretch you out so well, you just want to feel him against your walls. Is it too much to ask?
So you do what you're told to, rubbing your clit in quick circles and pulling on your nipples, stimulating them with your palm. You arch your back and moan obscenely, bringing yourself close to the edge.
"Yeah, sweetheart. That's it, fuck," he groans, throwing his head back. His lips are parted, letting out heavy breaths and deep moans as he watches you pleasuring yourself. "Good girl, such a good girl for me," he praises, the words coming out a bit mindlessly, drunk on the way you rub your clit avidly and how your wetness drips down to your ass, skin glistening under the light of his bedroom.
He tugs on his cock, the skin of his penis moving up and down as he fucks his hand. You feel it building up at the pit of your stomach too quickly, and you suddenly stop, not wanting to cum too soon.
As you stop, you grope your boobs again instead, waiting a little before starting back up with your swollen clit. Jimin hisses, halting his movement, too, covering the slit of his tip with his thumb.
"Are you edging yourself, baby?" He chuckles, rubbing his digit over his slit, spreading his pre-cum around his dark pink head.
"Mh-hm," you nod your head, passing your fingers over your pussy lips. "Wanna cum with you," you say in a pouty voice, letting out a quiet whimper as you pinch on your sensitive nipples.
"Aw, what a cute girl," he coos, a smirk forming on his lips. "You will, now just keep going, okay?" He instructs and you execute yourself, resuming the tight circles you were drawing on your clit.
"Okay," you breathe out.
Yes, you want to orgasm at the same time as him, but you also don't want this to end. It's like one of your wet dreams came to life and you want it to last as long as possible, enjoy every second of it.
You could edge yourself for hours, you don't care. You could stop every time you feel it coming, moving your fingers away from your puffy clit, feeling it pulsating so hard like you actually have a heartbeat there.
But every dream must come to an end. You have to eventually wake up from it, even though you wish you would never.
Jimin gets his hair away from his face again, little strands sticking to his forehead. His chest and shoulders are coated in a thin layer of sweat, like you know your back is as well. Damp and hot, that's how your skin feels like.
You dip two fingers in your pussy slightly just to bring some of your arousal up to your clit, making the circles smoother and kind of sticky.
He wets his dried lips with his pink tongue, grunting as he accelerates the pace of his palm around his engorged cock. He drags the loose skin of his dick up and down with every thrust, the muscles of his abs flexing as he controls himself, following attentively your fingers moving in circles over your poor, swollen clit.
"Ah, Jimin," you moan out, knitting your eyebrows together while you work hard on your bud, bringing yourself back over the edge. You're so desperate at this point, you just want to see him ejaculate and make a mess on himself, knowing it's all because of you.
"Come on, sweetheart. You've been so good," he tells you with his low, raspy voice, always honeyed and pleasant to the ear. "Cum with me," he insists and you want it so bad.
"Yes, please, please," you beg, as if he hadn't already given you the permission to, but it comes out instinctively. "Oh, my god-!" You cry out, rubbing fast circles on your clit until your body jerks forward, hips bucking against your hand.
Jimin grits his teeth, sucking air through them as he gives quick, short strokes to his thick cock. Seeing you cumming in front of his eyes riles him up, toes curling as he breathes heavily, plushy lips parted.
"Yes, yes," you sigh, toying with your clit to ride out your high, eyes fixated on Jimin's hand going up and down his length really fast.
"Aah, fuck," he curses under his breath, the knot at the pit of his stomach finally ripping off. His cock jerks in his hand, spurting out long, thick ropes of white cum, landing on his tummy.
His hand slows down, doing long and steady strokes to get everything out. He squeezes his grip and little white beads spill out from his sticky tip, dribbling down over Jimin's hand.
You swallow as you watch the whole scene, his cum slowly dripping down over his abs, falling onto his dark pubic hair. You tell yourself that this isn't enough, that you want — need more. More sex, more of Jimin.
You then totally act on your impulses, getting up on your knees and straddling Jimin's lap. He keeps his mouth agape, eyebrows frowned as he looks at you gripping his cock and aligning it with your entrance.
His hands hover over your hips, clenching into fists when you sink down on him. "Shit," he chokes on his word, watching his cock covered in his cum disappearing into your wet pussy. "Fuck, sweet thing, don't- oh, god."
The overstimulation is painful, but you both love it.
He lifts up his head and your eyes connect, your arms wrapped around his strong shoulders. His pupils are dilated and he looks so good like this; sweaty, breathless and out of his mind.
You immediately start jumping on his cock, honestly not really knowing what you're doing, but it feels incredible, so you continue. Jimin lets you use him, his head rolling back, holding onto your hips.
His fingers have heated up, now warm, only the silver of his rings being cold against your burning skin. You bounce on his dick with so much energy you even surprise yourself, but Jimin's whiny moans encourage you to keep going, wanting to feel his hot cum deep into you badly.
"Jumping on my cock like a little slut..." He groans, guiding your hips on his lap, doing fast grind motions. "You're no sweet girl," he says, one hand running down to the small of your back, sneaking down to your ass. "You're a fucking whore," Jimin rasps out, dipping the tip of his middle finger in your tight hole.
You gasp, but keep riding him like your life depends on it. You just want to cum around him, though, and you'll do it because damn it, you deserve it. Jimin might be right; you must be a slut, but god, does it feel good to be one. Especially when Jimin's your client — hypothetically.
"Only... only for you," you manage to respond, mouth open to let out your lewd moans. He keeps teasing your ass, slightly stretching it out with his thumb now. You're ashamed to admit it, but feeling him filling up your other hole turns you totally hysteric.
"Hm? What did you say, baby?" Jimin wonders, looking at you with hooded eyes, lust dancing in them.
"I'm a slut," you reply in a whiny voice. "But only for you," you state and it makes Jimin chuckles, a lopsided smile plastered on his face. You're so down bad for him, he likes it — feeds off of it.
"That's right," he approves, collecting some of your arousal on his digit. "Only for me, sweetheart. Just for me," he repeats while circling your rim with the pad of his finger covered in your wetness.
You moan in response, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. He then smacks your ass, groping the bouncing flesh after, his cool rings brushing against your skin.
You grind on him, your hips going so fast Jimin has difficulty following up, your tits squished against his sweaty chest. His cock feels so good against your walls, your pussy clenching around him several times as you can't keep in your moans.
"I love it," you admit, not knowing how to keep your tongue in your mouth as your brain is all mushy right now. "Love your big cock, Jimin," you say drunkly, your mouth beside his ear.
"Yeah? Like my cock in your tight little pussy?" He asks, pulling you away from his neck, making you face him by having a grip on your hair.
"Yes, love it so much," you cry, sinking your nails into the skin of his back, leaving small crescent forms.
"Then I'mma fucking give it to you, baby."
You moan out loudly when Jimin thrusts up into you, his feet sinked into the mattress as he fucks you hard and deep. Your ass bounces as he snaps his hips against yours, balls slapping your wet pussy. You cry on top of him, his cock sliding up so easily as you're dripping wet, on the verge of your orgasm.
His head hits your sweet spot so deliciously, making you see stars. "Oh, gosh, I'm gonna cum," you hurriedly warn him, boobs also jiggling at the intensity of Jimin's thrusts.
"Fuck, me too, sweetheart," he breathes out shakily, gripping your hips tightly, fingers digging into your damp skin.
You lay your hands on his shoulders, arching your back as his thick cock keeps brushing over your sensitive spot inside of you. You soon cum around him, pussy clenching around him repeatedly and thighs shaking beside his body.
Your walls closing tightly around him is his last stroke and his hips steady. His cock twitches and he releases himself deep into your cunt, shooting long strings of cum against your walls.
You lazily grind on him, driving off both of your highs, limbs trembling.
You look down where your bodies connect and you see his cum has fallen down all over yourselves at how much there was. Your inner thighs are covered as well as his pelvis and balls.
You slowly lift up your hips and his cock slips out of you, slapping down on his stomach. You're both trying to catch your breaths, looking into each other's eyes, perhaps thinking about the right thing to say.
You drop yourself beside him on the bed and he passes his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a warm and soft embrace. He kisses the top of your head and you smile, placing your palm down on his chest.
"Was really good, but we need to clean ourselves." Jimin says, getting out of bed. You get a glimpse of the big tattoo on his back; the cycle of the moon and the two other drawings above his elbows before he turns around. "Coming with me?" He proposes.
You nod your head, biting down on your lip to refrain a smile. "Yeah."
.
.
.
a.n.: hope it was good?!!?!? 🥺 idk came straight from my fantasy so... but anyway just wanna say i start uni in like a week so if call me doesn't come as soon, it's normal (if it comes soon y'all need to scold me because my stupid lazy brain has to study). i hate school, but hey, maybe... enemies to lovers?! that'd be cool
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loveemagicpeace · 7 months
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9th house of marriage/ travel/ believe💍⛵️🎨
9th house is very beautiful house and have a lot of things that are so amazing. It represent luck, travel, faith, long journeys, adventure, philosophy, teaching, higher education, quest for meaning. It means exploring the unknown and having fun doing it. Wisdom & greater understanding of ourselves and the world around us. Here we seek answers to life’s bigger questions. Get to know the world around you. Learning and growth. And it is also the house of marriage (how do you see marriage , what kind do you want to have, what beliefs do you have about it).
This in signs through houses and I actually believe that 9th house is so much more connected to marriage and wedding live than it is 7th house. 7th house represents the person you love the relationship you want or need & what it is good for you and the marriage you want. And yes it is connected to wedding and which wedding do you want to have or where do you want to have but it’s more like thinking it’s not doing it. And yes 7th house is your first marriage you have and the 9th house is your second marriage (if you have the second marriage)but most likely 9th house is more connected to the spiritual bonding the spiritual marriage do you have with someone. And how marriage grows.
✨Aries in 9th house - you go on with your life inspired by a higher meaning. You feel independent in your own world and love to explore all parts of the world. Above all, this energy is more related to you. You like things that are bold and spontaneous. That's why your wedding can be spontaneous and not expected. It can also mean that you will have a bold wedding. And you want to always have good energy and action in your marriage. It can also be a quick wedding. Your spiritual curiosity keeps your faith at high levels and helps you move forward through the challenges of life.
🦊Taurus in 9th house- you love to travel and you are strongly connected with mother nature. Many of them decide to live far away from where they were born. You explore the world slowly and with pleasure. You like to enjoy life and like to experience the energy of other countries and cultures. Your wedding can be old school. It can have many flowers and it can also be in the garden. Maybe a wedding in a castle or something similar. But it's usually always simple. Your marriage is usually nice and pleasant. You can enjoy a lot with a person and share a lot with them.
🌵Gemini in 9th house-you can learn new things very quickly and you can quickly adapt to a foreign environment. But you also like to change things, which means you like to travel but you don't like to stay in one place for a long time. Even your beliefs can change. You like to discover new things. They like to talk and write on philosophical and religious topics. Marriage may not be a priority for you. But you are the person who will want to have a written promise and read it aloud at the wedding. Your wedding can be very interesting. But it can also mean that you get married more than once.
🏝️Cancer in 9th house- usually, people with this placement feel other places more than their own. Maybe you can feel that your home is somewhere else. And you can spend a long time looking for a place where you will truly feel at home. You have an emotional approach to things you believe in and are important to you. They can travel with their minds a lot, especially when not wanting to be far away from the places they’re used to. Your wedding will be where you will feel the most safe, beautiful and emotionally refined. And in a place where you will feel the energy. It can usually involve more family and people close to you. Your marriage will be emotional, comfortable and safe (maybe it can be with someone you've known for a long time).
🫧Leo in 9th house- you are very passionate when it comes to traveling and you like to experience new things. You like to party. This brings a dynamic and spirited energy to higher learning, spirituality, and exploration. They’re only going places in which they can learn new things and experience something from a spiritual point of view. Inspiration comes easily for them because they’re enthusiastic and ready to live their life in the most beautiful manner. The wedding will be big and there will be many people at it. Usually, the wedding is dramatic and contains a lot of people that you may not know very well. But you are usually with the person from your childhood.
🌙Virgo in 9th house- you tend to criticize a lot or always have something that could be better than it is. You are smart and focused, meaning that you can find solutions to problems easier than others. You are pragmatic when it comes to matters of philosophy and religion. You have your own principle about what you believe in and you stick to it. A wedding can often be practical and contain many details. At the same time, you can be a person who can analyze everything before getting married. Marriage is usually aimed at wanting it to be perfect and practical. Animals may also be present at the wedding.
💘Libra in 9th house-you can travel a lot with your partner and explore a lot with him. Relationships help you grow and become your own person. You believe in the beauty of the world and everywhere you go you find something that is really beautiful to you. You can dream a lot about places and want to experience as much as possible. You can fall in love with places and corners of the world. You see life as something worth living for. And you want to experience love through travel and exploration. You can do all activities with a partner or someone you have an emotional bond with. You can meet the love of your life while traveling. Or you have someone who is from another country. Even your wedding can be in a foreign country. Your marriage can be very beautiful and pleasant. You can travel a lot with this person and have fun and learn a lot from your partner as well. Can also be a dream wedding.
🩵Scorpio in 9th house- you deeply believe in things that are important to you. You have an intense view of the world and events. You like to travel to places that are mystical, mysterious and by the water. You like trips that bring you some inner healing. You experience a lot of transformation when you travel, and that's how you grow the most. Your wedding can be somewhere out in the open or even secret (so no one will even know you got married). Many things that will happen between you and your partner will remain hidden from others. Everything just between you two. You value privacy.
⭐️Sagittarius in 9th house- you live life to the fullest and with optimism. You live like every day is your last. You have a lot of passion for travel and this is where you find yourself the most. You can deal a lot with spirituality and things related to it. You can teach others a lot. And you can tell a lot about your travels. But you can have a strict opinion about what you think and about your view of the world. You accept all people and cope well with unknown things. You can gain a lot from your partner. U two can also travel a lot. Your wedding will most likely be in another country. Your marriage will be active, interesting, optimistic, fun and full of travel.
🎸Capricorn in 9th house-this has a significant impact on a person's views, academic pursuits, journey, and devotion. Capricorn signifies ambition, discipline, and realism. You may travel a lot on business or your job is active. You like to help others and look out for society. Usually these people do not have specific beliefs or have a hard time believing in anything. It may be more difficult to find trust and faith in something, but when they find it, they feel a sense of responsibility towards this. The marriage with the partner is more likely to be busy or perhaps even more distant. Or both have a more public role. Even your marriage can be publicly exposed.
🪴Aquarius in 9th house-you will probably resist anything that will be publicly exposed. You will never believe in the church or have any special contact with it (unless you have some aspects of the planet that are different). You will not be everything that others believe. You will have your faith. You will be too lazy to learn new things. You will travel to places that others will not, or to places that are a little different. You may want to travel to the same place many times. You can have a lot of friends from other countries and also a lot of people you can meet while traveling. Your wedding can be unusual and different from the others. Your marriage can be unpredictable and different. Maybe you can have many unexpected things with your partner. It can always be in flux.
🐚Pisces in 9th house-you have faith, which can also be infinite. You never stop believing because you have a lot of illusion inside you. And there is definitely a mission you should follow in this lifetime. These natives can’t be kept to only one place. Pisces are known for creating magic around them, but also for poisoning their environment when it comes to the aspects of life they haven’t explored. You always have to follow your passion & things that are good for you soul. You are very nice to everyone. And you believe that the world is full of magic, dreams and goodness. You deeply believe in soul connection of people,soulmates and everything that requires somehow higher meaning to this life. Places by the ocean are good for your soul and you actually love to be near Ocean. Your wedding can be dreamy, by the water or somewhere like a magical world. A marriage with a partner is spiritual and more deeply connected. But you have to make sure that the person doesn't cover things up or lie to you.
✨Ig-bekylibra✨
-Rebekah☁️🌊💍
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amuseoffyre · 8 months
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Here’s the thing about the big fall-out: Crowley and Aziraphale are operating under very very different interpretations of what has just happened in the bookshop.
From Aziraphale’s point of view: Gabriel turned up on his doorstep and told him that something terrible was going to happen to him. He vaguely alluded to things being better if you were just with that one other person. He hummed a love song. Then the dukes of hell and archangels all arrive and the big reveal is that Gabriel and Beelzebub are in love. He doesn’t see Gabriel’s memories or anything that would explain it otherwise.
The archangels/demons tell them “If you leave you can never come back”, which is - based on Aziraphale’s past behaviour and experience and fear of being cast out - would suggest that this the bad thing Gabriel was referring to.
Aziraphale assumes Gabriel is being cast out because he fell in love with a demon.
From Crowley’s point of view: He knows that heaven and hell are hunting for Gabriel and doesn’t know why. He knows that Aziraphale’s life will be in danger from both sides and that’s why he agrees to hide Gabriel, as much as he knows “it’s too late now. It’s always too late”.
And then he goes to Heaven to find out wtf is really happening and discovers that Gabriel not only defied the commands of Heaven and his designated role of Supreme Archangel, but that he was about to be stripped of his memory and authority, pared back to the lowest of Scriveners. Gabriel was about to lose everything because he decided to stand against Heaven’s plans.
Crowley knows that the terrible thing that was about to happen to Gabriel was his demotion and erasure of his memory for defying Heaven’s plans, but he doesn’t have the time to tell Aziraphale because everything is happening all at once in the bookshop.
And this is where the tragedy comes in about their misunderstanding.
Aziraphale’s assumption that a demon and angel being in love and being together means being cast out, alone, exiled to who knows where. So when he’s given the opportunity to guarantee they will be somewhere safe together with the means and position to keep themselves safe, he is absolutely going to take it.
But Crowley never saw the Gabriel/Beelzebub relationship like that. He knew Gabriel was being cut down because he decided to take a stand against heaven. Heaven didn’t know about the Beelzebub relationship. That was a non-entity in Gabriel’s demotion. Crowley knows that if Aziraphale goes back to Heaven, it’s the same Heaven that cast out both him and Lucifer (as well as the legions of the damned) and would have cast down Gabriel if it wouldn’t have been awkward for them. As they said, it’s an institutional problem.
If Crowley had had five minutes alone with Aziraphale to explain what he saw in Heaven and why it really all happened, before the Metatron turned up. But the Metatron showed up just in time to begin the mind games.
And by the time they have a few minutes alone to talk things through, both of them are too wound up and on edge. Aziraphale is giddy in the belief he and Crowley can be safely together and make things better in a Heaven that Crowley knows for a fact is still murderously corrupt and will turn on them both as it has before. They both want the same thing: to keep each other and themselves safe, but neither of them realise the other doesn’t have all the details of what’s happening.
“You don’t understand what I’m offering you,” Aziraphale says and he means safety, security, protection. “I think I understand it better than you do,” Crowley replies, because he knows what a toxic cesspit Heaven is.
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azulashengrottospiano · 10 months
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SUMMARY: A handful of TWST characters that I headcanon have not had their first kiss yet and you kissing them for the first time.
WARNINGS: None!!
COMMENTS: riddle and idia and azul are obvious but i feel like i need to explain jade and floyd. they're clearly emotionally detached from most people and probably scared off anyone that might remotely be interest in (even though if they can be scared off, the twins would probably find them boring anyway) so they haven't kissed anyone yet in my silly little head. thats all!!
i was listening to cherry wine by hozier while writing floyd's part so if its softer than usual that's why OOPS
the asexual in me loves writing about hesitant physical intimacy leave me alone :C
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Riddle Rosehearts feels his hands shaking as you stare, eyes so calm and hopeful that makes his heart lurch. He doesn’t know how to give you what you want without curling in on himself and becoming flustered. It’s unbecoming of him to cower like this, but he can’t help it. your hand against his cheek, the other one resting on his shoulder, your faces so close together. He feels like he might die if he doesn’t kiss you, but he doesn’t know how and he doesn’t want to mess this up because he’s supposed to just know.
“You don’t have to know,” you whisper, and you sound so certain that his heart flutters like a caged bird, “Every person is different. Everyone has a different feel to their kiss, and I’m glad I get to help you discover yours.”
He can’t breathe.
“Will you allow me?” you murmur, tilting your head the slightest bit and oh, he knows what's coming and he doesn’t want to stop it.
“Please.” he breathes, slamming his eyes shut, “Kiss me.”
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Azul’s shaking hands find their way to your hips as if they were always meant to be there, pressed against your pants and brushing against the hem of your shirt. He sucks in a breath as your arms are draped around his neck, like a blanket of love coating him in warmth. His body does feel impossibly hot, and he wonders for a moment if you truly are magical.
His mouth feels dry so he wets his lips, and when your eyes flicker towards them at the movement he almost dies.
“Azul, it’s okay. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” you murmur, softly and with so much understanding. It’s frustrating, how Azul wants every part of you and you’re willing to wait for him. You’re too good for him.
“I want to.” he whispers, pleading in a way that only someone as powerful as him can, “I want to kiss you, so please—”
Azul talks too much. You’re painfully aware of this fact and so is he. Maybe that’s why you shut him up and replaced his greedy pleas with the sound of soft kissing, but then again, Azul doesn’t need to know what other reasons you had for kissing him. The only reason he needs is your love.
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Jade does not understand why it’s such a shock to you that he has yet to be kissed. You have seen him in his merform, you have fought him in his merform, and yet your brain cannot wrap around the concept that people find him terrifying. Really, you are an amusing one.
“The merpeople my age were scared of me, pearl.” he chuckles politely as you gape at him from across the Mostro Lounge table he seated you at hours before, “I had yet to be in a romantic relationship until you.”
“But you’re so handsome.” you huff, and it looks like you’re pouting, “Your peers have no taste.”
“Ah, or mayhaps your taste is an acquired one, my dear.” he smiles his closed-eyed smile, and revels in the amused snort his response elicits.
“We should kiss then.” you blurt, and Jade’s eyes fly open in surprise. You’re leaning across the table with shimmering eyes and a huge smile like you can’t wait to kiss him.
How peculiar.
“Do you want to be kissed?” he says, feigning surprise.
“By you? More than anything.” you say breathlessly, and Jade finds himself leaning into you to really take your breath away.
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Floyd stares intently at your lips, brow furrowed and eyes narrowed. He looks like a predator about to pounce on its prey, and despite how cliche that comparison is for someone like him you can’t help but squirm.
“Floyd.” you say softly, and he snaps out of it when he meets your gaze, “What’s wrong?”
“Shrimpy. Wanna try something new.” he leans closer, his shadow falling over you as if to remind you how scary he can really be, “I want to kiss you.”
Oh.
“Well, that’s doable.” you feel your face grow warm at his insistence as your hands find their way to his lapels.
Floyd’s features soften as he leans into you, his bristling energy soothed by your hands on him, pulling him closer to give him what he wants. Your mouths connect and for a moment you find yourself wincing as his teeth bump against yours, but he pulls back just the slightest bit and presses into your mouth with his mouth, and you lean back and back and back until the only support you have is his arm holding you close.
“Love you Shrimpy.” he grins as he stops kissing you, giggling against your lips. His breath is warm and you feel like a sweet ice cream cone in summer with the way you melt against him.
“Again.” you huff quietly, and Floyd is all too happy to oblige.
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Idia was not expecting to be thrown into a super hard boss level right off the bat. Seriously, what is this? Why did you always have to play with such gimmick stats that made no sense and never follow any specific trope?! It wasn’t good for his heart!
It wasn’t that he didn’t want you to kiss him, it was just so hard not to think about everything that could go wrong. Like what if he bit you by accident? What if he yawned or sneezed in your mouth? What was the last thing he ate? Where did he put his hands and how is he supposed to move his lips?!
“Idia, it’s okay. We can wait a little while longer. This isn’t something you can rush.” you rub your thumb over his cheek, always so gentle and tender and sweet and everything he never thought he would find.
“No, I want to. I just...don’t look at me like that!” he squeaks, ducking his head in his hoodie as the tips of his hair flare pink and red.
“Sorry!” you turn away and let him breathe, trying so desperately to calm down.
“Just...can it be a quick one?” he asks shyly, tentatively, and he hears you hum in satisfaction because he’s communicating and he knows you like it when he tells you what he wants.
“It can be anything you want.” you answer softly, and Idia slams his eyes shut and leans into you.
How you manage to make such normie things seem so nice is a mystery to him, but he doesn’t think he can ever get enough of your lips gliding across his like they were never meant to do anything but kiss him.
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eunoiathewriter · 1 year
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X. THORPE X F!READER
Sypnosis: She smiled, and it became his favourite thing.
Word count: 5.3k
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
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It was becoming harder and harder to actually focus on what he was saying. Every few seconds, he would have to run his hand through his hair to push it away from his face as it fell in his eyes. Did he not have a hair tie? He usually did, so why, of all days, did he not have one now when his hair seemed to be the biggest bother of them all? Not even the way he spoke of Tyler could make her think he was more of a bother than his own hair.
To anyone around, it would not seem as though she listened to what she was told, as she just focused on a spot in front of her and let him talk. But she was, truly. Listening was one of the things she was best at, and she really wanted to hear Xaviers' reasons for why he disliked Tyler so much. Seeing as she had yet to meet him, she wanted to understand why he found the guy annoying and often rolled his eyes whenever she mentioned her sister just saying something about him.
If y/n ever told Xavier that Wednesday had been to talk to Tyler, he would scoff, then just tell her he was an asshole, idiot, bitch—or just whatever bad word he could come up with to call him. She would never admit it out loud, but she had labeled Tyler as an asshole ever since Xavier called him one.
After spending so much time together, the two quickly became close. Xavier had been intrigued by her since she came to Nevermore with Wednesday. He was intrigued by the fact that she did not appear to show much emotion on the surface, but as he got to know her, he discovered that she cared for people more than most people realized.
On the other hand, y/n had been pretty reserved in the beginning. She always eyed the tall boy strangely whenever he talked to her, and there was a certain kind of caution in her about actually getting to know someone. He had yet to learn why she had been so wary at first.
Now, Xavier had not noticed how quiet she had been for the past few minutes. He was too busy shittalking Tyler to notice. The fact that y/n wanted to listen and had said, "Please enlighten me. I'm genuinely curious as to why." So seeing as she had finally asked him to tell why, he had started off just telling how Tyler and his friends had destroyed his mural and jumped him. That slowly turned into a rant about everything he found annoying with him that had now gone on for the past five minutes.
Xavier had not gotten any kind of implication that she listened anymore. The silence that had become all too noticeable from her, as well as the looks they had received from fellow students, were not unnoticed. Just to kind of get an idea if she seemed to listen, he leaned forward to see her face. She was indeed just staring into space.
He let out a sigh that made her blink, turning to see that he had stopped talking and running his hand through his hair for the hundredth time. "And you're not paying attention, are you?"
Turning, he saw that she was now looking at him, blinking, and in her eyes he could see the confusion that did not fall upon her face.
"Who said that I'm not? Because I most certainly have been paying attention." It wasn't that she hadn't listened; she just thought it better to stay quiet and let people talk without disturbing them.
"What have I even been talking about then?" His tone was challenging; he was leaning forward and maintaining eye contact with her the whole time, a smug smile on his face.
"You started by explaining why you dislike Tyler, but then you just started mentioning everything that irritates you about him, which was about twelve different things, and all while doing so, your hair has been bothering you."
"So you did listen," It was not actually a question to be answered, yet he got one either way.
"Yes, I did." She paused for just about a second. "I have to admit that you constantly having to fix your hair was quite irritating."
"I don't have a hair tie." Even if he knew he didn't have one, he looked down at both his wrists just to make sure and felt through his pockets, seeing if one had magically appeared (though that wouldn't be a surprise, this was Nevermore after all.)
"Here." Turning his head back at the sound of her voice, he was met by y/n holding up a black hair tie in front of him to take. This caused him to take a second look at her; she looked at the hair tie and then up at him, silently telling him to take it.
"Thanks," Was he feeling cocky about seeing just the slightest of hesitation in her eyes while she looked at him? Yes, he surely did.
Their fingers were brushing as he took the hair tie from her, but as soon as Xavier had a grip on the hair tie, she quickly retracted her hand. With a smirk, Xavier gathered up the top part of his hair into a half-up, half-down style just to get the most annoying part of his hair away from his face.
"If your hair is being such a bother, maybe you should consider cutting it." It came out so suddenly that his hands just dropped from tightening the hair tie, and he turned to her with a questioning look. He thought she liked his hair as it was; at least Ajax said that's what Enid had told him.
"I sure hope there's an and—or a but to that." Xavier was able to detect just the tiniest bit of hesitation in her, as she seemed to have an and or but to that suggestion.
Swallowing hard, she could feel herself struggling to come up with the words to say it. This was what Enid had said: compliments can be a good start, but y/n was not one who ever really gave compliments. Plus, if she had gotten to know one thing about Xavier, it was that anything that would, in his ears, be considered a compliment was going to boost his ego. as if he didn't already have a bit of an ego.
"But," Turning just slightly to face him, there was already an amused smirk growing on his face. Her cheeks were growing increasingly hotter. "I don't think you should, because I like it as is."
"What would you do if I did cut it, though?" Yes, this was feeding into his ego a bit more, but to be honest, his insides were feeling as if butterflies flapped their wings a bit harder than they usually did. y/n looked around at the people in the courtyard while thinking about the question, also looking for the three others that were to join them.
"You would be six feet under."
"Oh, that's how much you actually like my hair." It was really amusing for Xavier to torture her like this, as somehow he could make out that she was getting a bit flustered by all this. He stood at his full height and poked her sides, making her jump and squirm.
"Stop that," y/n told him while swatting at his hands and being able to smack them a few times when he went to poke her sides even more.
As she struggled to smack his hands away from poking her even more, there was something that made him stop. Her lips had unconsciously pulled into a small smile that made him stop completely. Xavier had actually never really seen her smile; most of the time if she felt a smile pull on her lips, she would cover it up in some way, but this smile was one she had not noticed herself.
Just as he was about to say something about it, she was pulled away from him. Enid had been quick when walking up to the two and hooked her arm with y/n's, pulling her away from standing so close to Xavier. Both of them were taken by surprise.
"y/n!" Enid cheered loudly while holding on to the girl's arm and hugging her, earning a side eye from y/n, who then glanced at Xavier.
"My friend." Enid said, just as Wednesday and Ajax had caught up to them, shooting a glare at Xavier, who simply raised his hands at the werewolf-girl.
"Rude." Before the other two reached them, Xavier just took a last glance at her, trying to see if her smile was still there, but it wasn't. He liked it; the way she smiled made his insides flutter even more.
He wanted—no, scratch that. He needed to see that smile again.
——
Spending time in Jericho was better than being at Nevermore and having classes. No long boring classes about plants, no math, no assignments to do—just a day where all students could take a break from school. And sure, some of the work they could do in Jericho was maybe not the most entertaining, but all of the students from Nevermore saw any work as better than just sitting in school. Most normal people would consider school at Nevermore to be fun and unique, but it was simply a school designed for odd people, such as the Nevermore students, to feel less odd.
It had been Enid, who did not want to stand y/n just sitting around as they worked, telling her she would stab her eyes out with fire irons while being bored, who had given her the idea. So Enid told the Addams girl about a certain tall, blonde-brunette boy who was probably bored out of his mind at the Weathervane Cafe (it was a desperate attempt to get them together); she knew he would be; Xavier told her that Tyler worked there, so it would not really be his favourite thing ever. So that was where she was heading.
It was slightly cold outside, being autumn and all. The winds that blew the leaves around made it colder as she walked down the pavement of Jericho, seeing the cafe sign only about a hundred feet in front of her. When she finally arrived at the door, she did not hesitate to push it open, allowing herself to be engulfed by the warmth from within.
It was calm; not too many people were there; only about ten other people were there. There were a few duos that conversed with one another while simultaneously sipping on their coffee, tea, or whatever they were drinking. Four of the other ten people sat alone, one of them an elderly man who sat in one of the corners with a cup of black coffee and a brownie while reading the newspaper.
She took off her jacket, as it was warm enough inside without it. The cafe was placed just perfectly in town, as one could look out the windows and see the town just outside. The smell of coffee was the most noticeable of all, something y/n did not care for because she found the bitterness unpleasant.
Walking around the counter so she could look at all the drinks and things they sold, she found that there was no one at all behind the counter.
The calm was soon broken, however, when someone working there walked in, though it was not Xavier but a boy with shorter, curly hair. Something to know about y/n was that when she was out and about, she would not have her eyes completely relaxed so as to not seem so closed off, even though her voice wouldn't be the most expressive one, just to make people not feel as though they passed her off.
"Hello, is there anything I could get you?" The boy behind the counter gave her a slight smile, prompting her to mentally repeat what Enid had suggested she try.
"Hot chocolate, with some whipped cream and marshmallows." The boy behind the counter nodded and took out a mug to start making her drink, but she just turned around with a question on her mind, and y/n noticed he wanted to ask something. "Yes?"
"It's just that you remind me of someone I know," Her eyes narrowed in response to his statement. "Ehm, what's your name?"
"y/n Addams." He had just gone back to start making her drink and once again turned back to where she stood on the other side of the counter.
"You're Wednesday's sister, she's told me about you." Not true; she hadn't told him about him, just mentioned her sister. She knew that much about her sister. But, even if she didn't seem to care all that much, family was the one thing she cared about and only ever seemed to care about her. But Wednesday would never tell anybody just all about y/n, she knew that.
y/n realised who she was speaking with. The boy with whom Wednesday only briefly conversed and interacted. But he was the one who jumped Xavier with his friends. Okay, so you know what I said earlier about y/n already labelling Tyler as an asshole because of Xavier? Yeah, that still remains. She let her eyes that she had keept a bit less relaxed, finally, relax which made her whole expression change. Only Tyler appeared to be unconcerned.
"That means you are Tyler." Her eyes flickered over to a figure coming into her view, someone that Tyler could not see.
As soon as y/n mentioned her name, the blond-brunette in the back perked up from his sulking over having to work with Tyler. With furrowed brows, he had walked in behind the counter and now stood about twelve feet behind Tyler, leaning against the wall. Xavier knew that she had seen him enter, and just for the heck of it, he crossed his arms and waited to see how long it would take for Tyler to notice he was there.
"Yeah, yeah. Your sister has mentioned me?" It was a miracle he didn't notice her averting her gaze to Xavier with a questioning look in her eyes before returning her gaze to Tyler.
"Yes, my sister..."
Just as he was about to say something more, Tyler finally caught on that y/n were looking at someone behind him. Turning around, he saw Xavier leaning against the wall, arms crossed, with an annoyed look on his face. He raised a brow at the curly haired boy before looking at y/n who was looking between the two boys.
"You two know each other?" Tyler finally spoke as he turned to y/n; the question was directed at her, but it seemed that Xavier was about to answer, though y/n did not let him even utter a word before answering.
"Yes, he is my friend," y/n said after a brief pause. "And told me all about you."
Right then and there, Tyler realised why she had gone from looking a little tired to having a completely annoyed face when looking at him. Her tone signalled to him that she was hinting at just what he thought it to be. For him, it was awkward.
Finally having enough, Xavier pushed off the wall and walked towards where Tyler was behind the counter, clearly using his height as intimidation. "I'll just take this."
"Oh yeah.." With a glance at each of them, Tyler swiftly walked to start cleaning up some tables from previous customers that had left.
"Well," Xavier said, leaning forward on the counter, which she stood on the other side of. "Have you made your own assessment of him?"
"Asshole." That was all y/n said, and it made the boy in front of her chuckle, which in turn had an effect on y/n as her lips tugged into a smile at the sound of his laughter.
"You are right about that." Looking back up at her with a smile, his eyes flickered to her lips at the sight of her smile once more.
It was as if, for the past week, he had been playing "find the smile" on her. Trying to catch every smile she'd ever give, he'd seen about eight so far, nine including this one. She was good at hiding most of them. It was something about the way he smiled that he couldn't quite put his finger on, but it felt important. The fact that y/n seemed not to know that she did smile and that every time she did, he got to enjoy it.
"What are you doing here, either way?" Shaking his head, he asked just to come back to reality.
"To cut a long story short, there was an issue with the number of volunteers, so I couldn't work with Enid and my sister at Pilgrim World. Enid said I should go and spend time with someone who I actually enjoy spending my time with, so here I am."
"Oh, so you do enjoy spending time with me. Good to know I wasn't imagining it then." Her smile was still present on her face, which made this the longest she had ever held a smile.
"If I didn't, then me and Wednesday would have spent our first night here enjoying gravedigging. Though that would be fun to do again." y/n trailed in thought as she remembered just how long it was since she and her sister had been gravedigging. They really needed to do that again.
"You know at this point that whenever you say something like that, it's just an empty threat," Xavier pointed out while standing up, pushing off the counter. "You like me too much to do something like that to me. Admit it."
"Will you just make me that hot chocolate of mine that I never got?" y/n sighed, trying to dodge what he had just said. But he would not let it go.
"Not unless you admit that you like me too much to ever carry out your threats against me."
Her jaw tightened in annoyance as she watched him stand back and cross his arms again, waiting for her to admit it.He was gloating at her frustration at having to say it just so she could get that drink. His gloating was also not he was god at hiding, clear as day showing he found satisfaction in making her admit to things she would never say out loud. He had gotten to know her too well.
"Fine.. I like you too much to ever carry out any of my threats. Now can please have my hot chocolate or I'll leave you here alone with Tyler for the rest of the day, Xavier." He did not care for the glare she was shooting him as he got what he wanted, letting out a chuckle once more.
"One hot chocolate is coming right up."
——
Music played softly in the background. y/n had just switched from one song on Xaviers' playlist to another as she felt the previous one was not one she could read to. Xavier didn't mind; he let her know the password to his phone for a reason—he wanted her to also enjoy the music being played and not just him. She just put his phone on the bench in his shed and turned back to her book.
This had all been Xaviers' idea. He had slowly wanted to spend more and more time with y/n, starting to steal her away from Enid and Wednesday, much to Enid's distaste. The werewolf girl had made it very clear to him that "I'm watching you, Thorpe." Not that he felt too threatened by the blond, as it was more Wednesday that he was a bit more worried about. Seeing as she was already keeping a close eye on them, she often narrowed her eyes at Xavier when he came and asked if y/n wanted to come with him.
Anyway, it had all been his idea. y/n knew about his shed, where he spent most nights painting, she had been there quite a few times with him, and he enjoyed the company. He would be painting, sketching, or just doing whatever as y/n would sit with a book in hand, engulfed in the story as they always had music on in the background too.
Today was like any other time when Xavier asked if she wanted to come to the shed with him. He had just simply asked after dinner if she wanted to, and as always, he got a yes. They had simply just done a turn for the girls' dorm, where y/n had gone inside her, Enid, and Wednesday's shared dorm and taken the book she had just started reading.
It was always amusing to Xavier because whenever they went to Y/N's dorm so she could get a book and he was waiting outside, he would hear Y/N threaten Enid. Then Enid would say something as y/n opened the door once more before being cut off again by the door closing. It was always amusing to him.
Today, though, Xavier did have a motive for bringing her out to his shed.
Again he turned his head just to get a glimpse at y/n as she read her book, then took a look back at his canvas, so far he had gotten the general shape. Inspiration had been low when they first got there about an hour earlier (they got there much later than they usually did as it was slowly pulling towards curfew), but her just sitting there, reading on, gave him something to paint. He would of course tell her when he had started to actually get to the details so as not to spook her, but first he just wanted to get in a rough sketch of her.
y/n had just gotten to page 393. Oliver and James, the characters in her book, were backstage between two acts. Oliver demanded knowing the truth, and it was keeping y/n on edge as James was quiet and did not answer. That confirmed it all; it was him, and it made y/n gasp, causing Xavier to turn his head.
He raised his brows at her, an affectionate smile on his lips as he watched her. "What?"
"James just confessed to Richard's murder, though Richard deserved it."
"Okay, I'm going to pretend I know what's going on in your book." He turned back to the canvas to do his own. But he still found the way she had gasped at the book cute.
"The character accidentally killed the asshole character, and the police have just found out and are there to arrest him." It was a simple explanation, but it gave him the least bit of understanding for what was happening in her book. She had only about thirty pages left, so I could not wait much longer until she was done.
"Interesting." Xavier nodded while just adding a bit of simple lining for the background of the painting. "Could you switch to that Russian song?"
"Which? I know more than one Russian song." She put down her book and took up his phone once more, tapping in the password.
"You know, that one you found when you and Ajax were looking for music."
"Are you referring to Molchat Domas тоска?" Without even waiting for an answer, she put on the song and turned to see if it was the right one. He gave it a thumbs up to indicate that it was the correct song. But he didn't turn away from the canvas, staring at it intensely to see if everything was to his liking (which it was).
y/n leaned on the stool she had been sitting on while reading to see the canvas, seeing just an outline or idea for what he was going to paint. She was completely unaware that it was her. "Even now, I know it will look excellent once you're done."
She did not think much of it and picked up her book once more to read the last few pages of it and see what the outcome was. Would Oliver and James see one another again now that Oliver was set free after doing his time?
For Xavier, however, the comment was more than just a passing thought. Because he knew she didn't often compliment people, he was completely taken aback.Eyeing her.
"You think?" He only got a hum and a nod as an answer to his question, but it did not give him satisfaction.
He then came to realise one thing: he still had his brush in his hand, and it still had wet paint on it. Looking up from the brush in his hand to the girl, whose eyes were darting across the page, she was too preoccupied with what was going to happen next to notice the malicious grin on his face as he raised his hand with the brush in it. Quickly, he flicked his wrist in her direction, causing paint from his brush to splash at her.
She jumped at the sudden sensation of something wet splashing on her face. Blinking, she raised her hand and wiped her face, only to discover paint on her hand. Turning her gaze up to Xavier, she could see him trying to keep from laughing at her reaction.
"What?" y/n closed her book and stood up, her entire face now a question mark.
"You think it's going to look good when I'm done?" Unbelievable.
"Yes, I just told you that, Xavier." Sometimes she wondered if he was deaf, but deep down she knew that he made her repeat things because he found it amusing.
"Okay, just checking in."
Annoyed that he had gotten paint on the cover of her book, she grabbed the paintbrush from his grasp and did the same thing he had done to her, flicking the brush, making it splatter paint on his face. When he opened his eyes and looked down at her, he scoffed and quickly grabbed one of his other brushes, starting to repeatedly flick paint on y/n.
As a result, a paint splashing match ensued. Both of them were flicking paint at one another, and whoever got it on them jumped just slightly at the cold liquid. Then, when both of them stopped, neither of them flicking paint at each other, Xavier quickly looked y/n up and down before reaching out and painting a single stroke with the brush on her cheek.
And they were both on each other once more. They had paint strokes on their faces; Xavier had a few on his shirt; their arms; and they both had paint splatters in their hair. It was fun, with Xavier laughing as y/n was able to do one long stroke on his cheek just before he could smack her hand away. And she was smiling, a smile that was all too strong to be held back, and it did not go unnoticed by herself. She felt it, but smiling always felt good when it had something to do with Xavier.
Finally, Xavier had enough and dropped his brush on the floor, not really caring, and to stop y/n he grabbed a hold of her wrists, holding onto her and keeping her from getting more paint on him, but his hold on her wrists was gentle.
"Okay, that's enough." He could feel her struggle a little in his hold on her wrists, but his focus was on her smile. She did not directly look at him, but she smiled, and this time it was obvious that she was very aware of it.
Looking up at him, her arms relaxing in his grip, she was met by his green eyes, which were already watching her. Her eyes flickered between his, unsure of what to do. She panicked inside as this was new territory she was stepping onto. But then it hit her how short it was until curfew, and she turned her head, seeing that darkness had started taking over the outside world.
"I should go before curfew," y/n mumbled, but just as she went to pull away from him, Xavier pulled her directly back.
It surprised her when his hands went from holding her wrists to holding either side of her face. His hands had a few undried patches of paint that transferred over to her face. But she didn't care. The way she was holding her face made her look up at him; it was hard to look anywhere else. "You should smile more."
Xavier studied her face, which both had brushstrokes and paint splatters here and there, much like his also had, stroking his thumb against her cheekbone before leaning down a little just to place a kiss at the crown of her head. Not wanting to go all too fast.
y/n just stood there and let him, feeling a warmth inside her even when he pulled away and smiled a little. Seeing just the tiniest bit of shock in her eyes.
"I don't want to get you in trouble, so go." He noticed she only paused for a second before returning to reality, turning to the table, and taking her book. It was amusing yet adorable to watch the pure confusion on her face.
She turned and looked at him before walking out of his shed and back to her dorm. A genuine smile was on his face. "Goodnight, Xavier."
"Night, y/n." Something was waiting for her in her dorm, or it should have been. Otherwise, a certain hand was going to do some shit.
Reaching her dorm, confusion was still painted on her face, but as soon as she entered, y/n was met by a bouncing Enid who jumped up and down. Taking her out of the trance that Xavier had put her in, so many rushed words were coming out of Enid's mouth, and she was clearly excited about something. Spotting her sister standing off to the side, it took her just a moment to understand what was going on.
"Oh my god, y/n! Look at your bed! Look at your bed!" It was the first words Enid said to y/n taht she could detect as the blond hurriedly pushed her towards her bed.
"What is going on?" y/n asked her sister, mind still elsewhere.
"Just do as she says," Wednesday was clearly tired by the way she motioned for her to follow Enid over to her own bed.
So she did, and her bed was indeed so etching to look at—something she hadn't noticed before on her perfectly made bed. There laid a necklace, a silver one. Thing picked it up for her, holding it out for her to take, and he nodded at the hand that just stood on her bed. Behind her, Enid was looking over her shoulder at the necklace. It was silver with a peal in a little thing. There was only a single note that read: to y/n.
Enid squeaked beside her out of happiness as Wednesday took the necklace out of her hands to inspect it closer. "Oh my god, you have a secret admirer!"
"How did it get in here? It was not there before, correct?" Wednesday handed the necklace back to y/n.
"Correct," She wanted to say what she thought out loud but bit her own tongue just as Enid stopped spinning around and flopped down on her own bed. Babbling on and on about something that again just became distant words. All the while, Wednesday seemed to also have her own thoughts on it. y/n smiled at the necklace.
It was something Xavier had wanted to see, but this had been the easiest way to do it.
He got a bit more out of the night than just being able to get that necklace to her.
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