#blurb week

[inklore]

congratulations again, sweetheart! 🤍🤍 you deserve all the recognition you receive and then some! i’m so so excited to send this one in!

prompt: “wait a minute, are you jealous?“ with our beautiful boy eddie munson!

you’ve got me

pairing: eddie munson x (f)reader  warnings: minors dni, literally just fluff, jealousy, established relationship, a tiny touch of angst maybe, mentions of the towns cruelty towards eddie. etc: first off ilysm and let me smooch you, second this boy was made for fluff and softness ok. idc how many smutty things i write for him, he deserves a soft love!!!

The look on his face could kill any enemy, wound any child, make someone walk on the other side of the sidewalk if they saw it—it’s a look you’ve never seen come across his normally soft features. The grumbling that accompanies the look, the “I know they say ignorance is bliss but, seriously? Him?!”

And then it clicks.

“Wait a minute,” you interrupt his continued protests, grab his wrist pulling his attention back over to your table, to you. The deadly scowl gone as he looks at you. Those soft features back. “Are you jealous?” You have to bite back the smile that wants to spread across your face.

“What?” He pulls his wrist from your hold, eyebrows pulling together in a don't-be-ridiculous-glare. “The day I’m jealous of a Hawkins whistleblower will be the same day I get a lobotomy.” He’s making a face as he picks at the food in front of him. There’s a tint of red on his cheeks and you can feel his leg bouncing underneath the table.

He’s totally jealous.

And it was cute, too fucking cute. Because if it was one thing Eddie didn’t have to worry about was someone stealing you away, let alone some jock swaying you to their corner.

You had simply stated that he, the blonde the whole county loved to watch shoot balls into nets, did look better in the new uniforms the school had finally bought. Your eyes had lingered for too long and Eddie had whipped his head around and sent the table a death glare.

The kids sat behind your table cowering at the abrupt mean look and ranting, and raving, that had been almost shouted out across the cafeteria to the aforementioned blonde.

This was the first time you had seen him jealous and you kind of…loved it.

The way his eyes keep flashing up at yours and then back down to his food nervously as he tries his best to put on that mean poker face he uses when he’s playing Dnd—the most unconvincing thing you’ve ever seen, but still the most adorable.

“Eddie,” you say his name so soft, so sweet that you can see the way he melts from it. How his shoulders relax, how his leg stops bouncing. And when you reach over to wrap your arms around his neck, he’s still not smiling, still has that grumpy look on his brows and it makes you smile. “You make jealousy look hot.” You joke, give him your best teasing look.

And that’s what makes him smile. What finally cracks the veil of torture he’s putting himself through mentaly, thinking you’re going to run into the arms of a jock.

You’re leaning closer and placing a kiss to his cheek, “I’m yours, Munson. Men in tights aren’t really my thing.”

Wrong sport, you know. But it makes you laugh when he says, “I could make them work.”

You sigh dreamily, making a show of looking up as if you’re imagining it. “Yeah, just rip some holes in them, muck them up a bit, so sexy.”

Eddie’s laughing against your lips when you press yours to his in a chaste kiss. It had taken him a whole year, and a couple business days, for him to even allow you to hold his hand in public, let alone kiss him. Public displays of affection were something he couldn’t wrap his head around. But constant belittling might do that to you, make you think no one would want to be seen with you.

Which makes this situation—as adorable as it was—bittersweet.

When a whole town tells you you’re a freak and you’re made to feel like one. Undesirable and looked at under a microscope of cruel words because people were ignorant, it was hard to believe when affections were real or just a joke.

But this was real. Your love for Eddie. It always had been and it always would be.

“I love you,” you whisper. Brush hair away from his cheek to place your palm there. “Y’know that right?”

He nods, lips pressed in a tight affectionate smile.

“Gross. Get a room!” Mike is gagging from down the table.

Before you can send the kid a scowl there's a handful of pretzels being thrown at him by Eddie, making the group of you laugh.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #blurb week

[darsynia]

Nat and Steve romance pls!

I enjoyed this, thanks for the request! Requests are still open!

Summary: Steve Rogers' mom had loved stories about romance, especially between two people who saw each other as equals. Pre-serum, fulfilling his mother's wish had seemed a hopeless ideal, and post-serum, equally so. Until he met Natasha.

Length/Warnings: 820 words, no warnings

Equals

Steve’s mom had loved romance novels. Her favorites had always been the ones where a secretary falls for her boss, or a nurse for her patient, but he could remember her complaining: ‘Where are the stories where they’re equals, Stevie? I want to read about them being equals!’

He’d never forgotten, had held that hope in the back of his head like a talisman, but Steve had never expected his romantic life to bring her wish to fruition. He was weak, puny, overlooked. Women wanted someone who could provide for them, who could stand up for them-- and then suddenly, he’d overshot the mark. ‘This Hero Has No Equal!’ one article had crowed.

No equal.

Steve came out of the ice, but it took him awhile to thaw. Once he did, he handled the task of adjusting to modern life, of warming up fairly well, in every way but one. He was… distracted by Natasha Romanoff.

Yes, by her beauty at first, but once he got used to how luminous she always seemed to be, Steve never ‘got used to’ her competency. It always floored him, how Nat was strong in ways he’d never be able to master, lithe when it counted, clever always. Her quick wit and sharp strategic mind left him alternatively in stitches and in awe, and falling for her was so easy he was almost embarrassed it took him so long to realize that’s what he’d done.

He didn’t intend to tell her, of course. That would be an overstep, and if Steve couldn’t be her partner, at least he could be her protector, someone she could count on to see her as-- oh.

An equal.

A couple weeks after that realization, Steve found himself being shoved up against the wall during a sparring session with Natasha. She’d taken him off guard, which was fair. He was still coming to grips with… everything.

“Out with it,” she said, her smaller frame no less threatening or deadly as she held a static weapon bristling with energy at his throat.

“Lunch didn’t agree with me?”

Natasha pushed the weapon closer. If he so much as swallowed hard, it would sting him. “What else?”

He felt completely out of his depth. “Your, ah, uniform shirt is unzipped more than normal,” he admitted. It was the truth, and he’d caught himself staring more than once so far.

Natasha’s smile was feral. “True. And?”

He moved swiftly and without warning, darting sideways and catching her waist with one hand to spin her off-balance. As usual, Nat rolled with the movement and turned it to her advantage, shooting out a kick that stole away his breath for a few seconds. He was fast enough to trap her kicking leg in both hands, yanking her forward into his body.

She should have tried to escape.

She should have pressed her advantage.

Natasha did neither. Instead, she leaped at him, and instinct led Steve to catch her weight at her ass and her back, one leg falling behind to brace the two of them so he didn’t tip over.

“And?” she repeated, one leg on either side of him, a steady hand brushing back his sweaty hair from his forehead.

There was no way his feelings weren’t written all over his face, Steve realized as he looked at her unblinking, green-eyed expression. She’d tricked him into showing her, meaning that she’d figured him out.

The best he could do was hope she felt honored, instead of offended. He’d wanted to be different than other men, for her. He’d wanted to be her equal.

“How long have you known?” Steve asked, entranced, impressed, imprisoned.

“Kiss me and find out,” she suggested archly-- and oh. Oh.

Natasha Romanoff kissed like time was running out, like no one was watching, like she couldn’t get enough. Steve sank to his knees in self-defense, needing to touch her, to ground the two of them with his hands cradling her face, tangled in her hair. His heart hadn’t pounded like this when he’d jumped from an airplane, and when their lips parted enough to catch a breath, he told her exactly that.

“Mine either,” she said, taking his hand from her cheek and pressing it against her too-low zipper, so he could feel for himself.

“So, you’re saying--” he started to say, needing reassurance, but Natasha stopped him with a quick kiss, then drew back.

“I’ve wanted to jump from the airplane before,” she said, a shadow crossing her face for a split second before she refocused on his face, and smiled. “With you, I’m not worried about how we land.”

He pulled her close, unable not to, and as he kissed her hair, her forehead, and her tear-wet cheek on his way to her lips, Steve realized that she could either mean they’d never land, or that she wasn’t worried about the fall.

He was equally happy with either.

#steve rogers x natasha romanoff #romanogers #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #steve x natasha #steve rogers fanfiction #natasha romanoff fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #steve rogers romance #natasha romanoff romance #blurb week

[coryosbaby]

SENSITIVE . Luke Castellan x fem! Reader

Content warning . Broken bones and submissive Luke <3

Whenever someone uses a word to describe Luke Castellan, it’s always this: strong.

He’s the greatest swordsman in camp, after all. He puffs out his chest and slathers his aura in pride, outdoing every opponent.

Except for when it comes to you.

He’s— well, Luke is a sensitive boy. No one knows that, of course, except for you.

He shows his true self, now, on a rainy night in your cabin. Many campers have gone to dinner, and Luke had decided to stay back with you, curled up in your bed.

“(Y/N),” he whines, as you finish your night routine with a drastic slowness. “It hurts.”

You almost roll your eyes at your boyfriend’s antics as you lather on a bit of moisturizer. After a long trip and fall down a flight of stairs—ironic, really, considering his stealthiness— the boy had broken his hand. A small cast is wrapped around it, little phrases that you and other peers had written into it rainbow in color.

“You’re being dramatic.”

His lips form into a pout.

“‘M not,” he replies. His unbroken hand pats the empty spot beside him. “Come here, baby. I miss you.”

You can’t help the tug in your chest at his sweet tone. You do the last steps of your routine, sighing as you move out of your vanity chair and slide onto your silky pink sheets.

“C’mere, you big baby.”

He grins, pressing a kiss to your cheek as you bring him into your embrace, letting him wrap his big arms around you.

“You smell nice,” he compliments, humming. “Like a pretty flower.”

You giggle. His fingers move up to play with your hair.

“And your hair is so pretty. I love it. And your eyes…”

“Are you saying this because you feel sentimental, or because you want me to make out with you?”

“Both.”

You scoff, pulling him in for a kiss. He reciprocates eagerly, and before you know it his tongue slides warm and wet into your mouth. His hand moves up to your tits, softly groping.

And when you look down, you realize why he’s so clingy. A small smirk spreads across your lips.

“I think you need a little bit of help, sweet boy.”

His cheeks, a dusty pink, turn even darker now. You take in the sight of the large bulge straining against his zipper. He lets out a nervous chuckle, though it doesn’t do much to stifle his nerves. His broken hand still stays trembling underneath your own.

“You don’t have to,” he replies, averting his gaze from you. “I’m not.. I mean.. I can’t—”

“I know.”

You don’t need to say anything else. Your palm splays out over his hardened cock, and he whines, a tiny breathless thing in the back of his throat that makes your panties soak with wetness.

“Mommy,” he utters. “I need your hands,” And then, bordering on a choked sob, “Please? I’ll be good, I swear…”

Oh, it’s so easy to get him worked up. So, so incredibly easy.

You hum, flicking the zipper of his jeans up and down playfully. His brunette locks are turned up and disheveled, and it’s the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen.

“Poor baby. It’s been a long time since you’ve touched yourself, hasn’t it ? Four, maybe five days?”

That was the last time he had fucked you, the day he had broken his hand. Your schedules were both so busy that neither of you had time to do anything since. Luke’s eyebrows press together, and a pout forms on his lips as he nods in confirmation. You press a kiss to his jaw, then another. He’s wearing the cologne you like, and a shirt you had once said looked particularly good on him. He had made his way into your room asking for this, you’re sure. He was asking to get all worked up and get you to handle it.

He just wants mommy’s attention, doesn’t he?

You pull his fly down, much to his excitement, a “thank you” falling sweetly off of his soft lips. Pushing his underwear down, his hardened cock slaps up to its fullest attention against his stomach. His balls are drawn up tight above the fabric of his briefs, full and ready to be emptied.

Oh, how worked up the poor thing is. Wet like a girl, cock dripping pre cum and the tip flushed an almost deep scarlett. He’s well endowed, much to your pleasure.

Giving his tip a teasing flick with two of your fingers, you watch as his eyes shut tight and he moans. It sounds precious, a choir full of angels singing. You wish you could hear it over and over again.

He isn’t looking at you, now, and that makes you annoyed. Your hand slaps his length and he lets out a pained yelp.

“Eyes on me. Do you understand?”

His bottom lip wobbles. A sensitive boy he is, despite his usually hard and cold demeanor, and his mommy’s disapproval makes him want to cry. He nods, his teary eyes staring deep into your own as you spit into your palm and take him into your hand.

You start by thumbing over his tip, rubbing softly into his slit. Watching his breathing increase and the way his head tilts back is absolutely enticing.

“Is that good, baby?” You ask softly. He nods eagerly, his hand shaking in his lap. He tries not to clench his broken fist together but that proves difficult, and he lets out a pained cry when he presses down on it. You coo to him, almost mocking, as you snake your arm behind his back and take the cast into your free hand.

“Don’t hurt yourself, okay? Just hold on to me,” your voice is a purr in the shell of his ear. “Need my boy big and strong again.”

“Yeah,” he breathes out, his voice high pitched and whiny. “Yeah, mommy, yeah…”

Your hand wraps around the fullness of his length, twisting with a flick of your wrist. His forehead bumps against yours as his open mouth tries to land on your lips. You think he’s trying to kiss you, and it’s absolutely endearing. He can’t help but desperately shove his tongue into the warm confines of your mouth. You giggle at that, pulling him in for a sloppy, wet kiss.

When your lips leave his, it’s so you can bite and suckle pretty marks onto his neck. You lave over the reddish bites, humming as you cover his throat in them.

Other women at camp, be damned. He’s yours.

It isn’t long, with a gasping mouth and fluttering lashes, that he’s close.

“I’m gonna cum,” Luke murmurs, sugary sweet. “I’m g-gonna… momma, momma..”

He buries his face in your neck, salty tears pressing into your skin, and his cock spurts rope after rope of warm, sticky spend all over your hand. You watch with a smile, pressing a kiss into his hair as he fucks his hips up and mewls against you. Your heart flutters at the sound, your body on fire just from watching him come undone.

He sighs when you milk the last few remnants of cum from his spent cock. His curls stick to his forehead, sweat dripping down his brow. What a sight.

You find Luke’s shirt somewhere on the floor and wipe your hand on it. His nose crinkles up.

“That’s gross.”

Rolling your eyes and trying not to smile, you sit down beside him again.

“It’s your mess, Luke.”

He shrugs, his hand going up to push your hair out of your face. He gives you a pretty, lopsided smile. You kiss the scar underneath his eye, and his eyes cloud over again.

Always so sensitive.

He lays down on the bed, signaling you over. His lips find yours again, chaste but still nice, and when he’s using free hand to make you straddle his face, a gasp emits from you.

“Luke. It’s okay, you don’t have to.”

“Want to,” he murmurs, sliding your panties to the side. “You took care of me, momma. Let me take care of you.”

:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry @princesstiti14 @aerangi

#bunny writes ͟͟͞☆ #why is this the most tame shit I’ve wrote in weeks #Luke Castellan #Luke Castellan x reader #Luke Castellan x fem! reader #Luke Castellan smut #Luke Castellan fanfic #Luke Castellan blurb #Luke Castellan Drabble #sub! Luke Castellan #dom! reader #Luke pjo #pjo #Percy Jackson #Percy Jackson fanfic #Percy Jackson series #Percy Jackson show #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson and the lightning thief

[lvstrucks]

I Think He Knows + LN4

You can't look at the boy in the driver's seat for too long without blushing. The two of you had only been seeing each other for a month or so, but it just felt right. So when he'd texted late at night saying he needed to get out for a drive to clear his head and would you like to come along? You knew exactly what your answer would be.

Lando's car slipped quietly through the dark night, and he rested his hand gently on your thigh. His touch was electric, and you had to glance down quickly to make sure there weren't actual sparks popping against your hot skin.

"Y'alright, lovie?" He grins, glancing over at you and you nod quickly, a fresh blush covering your cheeks.

"Where are we gonna go?" you whisper into the dark instead.

Lando shrugs.

"Wherever you want to, babygirl."

You almost snort at the pet name but compose yourself. Being with Lando is like this. Hope and safety all at once.

"Can I drive, then?" you ask cheekily, expecting a scoff and an eyeroll from the driver. He does exactly what you'd predicted, but surprises you and pulls over to the side of the road.

"You know I hate being the passenger, yeah?"

"But you can be my passenger princess," you grin, leaning over and pressing a kiss to his cheek in a moment of confidence. He catches the side of your face in his large hand before you can pull away and turns your head gently, one finger under your chin. He presses his lips on yours in the indigo dark.

You could happily kiss Lando forever but you pull away, opening your door and sidling over to the driver's side. Lando hops out with a sigh, patting your bum as he passes you. He curls up in the passenger seat, keeping his gaze locked on you as you turn on the ignition and adjust the seat.

Neither of you can wait to see where you'll go next.

#lvstrucks swiftie week #lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris blurb #lando norris fic #lando norris x you #ln4 x y/n #ln4 x reader #formula 1 x y/n

[little-pondhead]

Classic "promised-at-birth-to-the-Ghost-King" story, except the contract never states how, exactly, the King is to use the offered soul. Usually, one would be offered as a bride or sacrifice. But with Pariah Dark sealed away, his retainers got a little lazy in the last few millennia. They just made some generic contracts and practically handed them out like candy.

When Danny took over as king via conquest, that included all the weird and messed up soul contracts the previous retainers had signed. And since ghost magic was a thing and seemed to have it out for Danny personally, many of these contracts updated their terms and conditions as soon as that crown hit Danny's head, reflecting the new King's subconscious desires and personality.

This caused many issues with those still around to profit from these contracts. Some people lost their power, some gained more, and some were unbound and kicked to the curb. A few special people found themselves dropping dead after their less-than-ethical abilities disappeared.

Danny was unaware of the chaos he had unintentionally caused for quite a while. It was only brought to his attention when a letter arrived on his desk one day with a copy of someone's valid contract enclosed. The new changes have been highlighted, and a separate note is attached.

It seems that in exchange for blessings of near-immortality for her infant son, a mother had offered Pariah Dark both their souls in order to ensure her child's survival during harsh times. (The souls were to be collected upon death and were to be used as soldiers in the King's Army.) The mother's soul had returned to the Keep decades ago and was recently assigned to tend to the gardens, while her son seemed to have grown into a fine gentleman and was still alive. He used his mother's gifts to serve his country and loved ones well, it seemed.

At first, Danny didn't see what any of this had to do with him. If the mother was already a part of his kingdom, and the son would be eventually, why was a letter about the whole thing showing up before him?

Then he read the revised contract, which bore his magical signature. A signature that overruled the power of Pariah and binding it to him.

'...and as such, in return for the abilities stated above, [Mary Pennyworth] and [Alfred Pennyworth] will fulfill the conditions detailed below, upon pain of Ending.

[Mary Pennyworth], when returned to the Kingdom of Dark Kingdom of Stars, will work as a lieutenant in the Skeleton Army caretaker in the Gardens of Pluto.

STATUS: COMPLETED

[Alfred Pennyworth], when returned to the Kingdom of Dark Kingdom of Stars, will work as a general in the Skeleton Army caretaker of the King and his Court.

STATUS: PENDING'

Danny had to re-read the contract several times to understand what it was saying. He now had a caretaker? What did a caretaker do? Was it like a ghost parent? Could this guy ghost-ground him??

He sighed and pressed the speed dial on his phone for Tucker. Time to find out who the hell this Alfred Pennyworth guy was, and how to break a magic contract when it wasn't even fulfilled yet.

Meanwhile, Alfred had just found the original copy of the contract amongst his mother's belongings after it glowed and drew him in. The paperwork cleared up a lot of mysteries he'd always wondered about himself, even if he disapproved of his mother's methods. Nonetheless, he smoothed out the aged paper with dark green ink, noted the fresh (sloppy, a teenager?) signature, and began preparing to meet this supposed new King and his Court.

It wouldn't hurt to make introductions before he died, after all.

#pondhead blurbs #dpxdc #alfred is now their grandpa #i just want alfred to meet danny and his group of friends and unironically call him 'your majesty' and danny HATES it #like this is the guy who's gonna be my butler/caretaker after he dies? please man just say my name #it's not a cursed name i swear #no one else knows how to feel #cause like #if the contract wasn't in place everyone was sure Alfred would haunt the manor even after death due to his devotion to the wayne family #but now he's already got a job in the afterlife #so how will the bats see their father/grandfather figure now? #Bruce: the obvious solution is to adopt these random kids who still have families so alfred never has to leave :) #alfred isn't even dead yet but the bats are speedrunning their grief in like a week

[gleasonlovesjasontodd]

When Jason would come home from patrol, it would sometimes lead to arguments or jealousy of Artemis and how much time she spent with Jason more than you would with his own girlfriend. You knew it was stupid to get jealous but you just missed Jason

Angry and annoyed, you throw the bandage wrapper into the bathroom trash can, missing it but not even bothering to pick it up, because you were angry with Jason once again for being reckless with his mission tonight as he assisted Bruce with a drug transaction. "I'm going to bed now," you mumbled. Jason sighed and touched the large bandage across his shoulder as he watched you storm off into your shared bedroom, slamming the door behind you. His recklessness and the stress he caused were obvious to him. Once he gave you some space, hoping it would calm you down, he opened the bedroom door and found you facing the wall. He could tell you were still angry.

He climbed into the bed wanting to make things right as he wrapped his arms around your waist. As soon as you felt his muscular arms you tried pushing them off you. You turn your head around to look at him and say, "I’m mad at you.". He closes his eyes and says, "Be mad all you want, but I'm still sleeping with you." As you turn around, you smile a tiny smile, and Jason sees you blush even in the dark. You lean over and kiss Jason's head before turning around. In spite of how mad he made you, you still loved him.

I also had Abby proofread this 😙 she said it sounds good and clear let’s hope she is not lying to me

#gleason’s writing 🍒🫶🏻 #don’t know if i hate this but it’s better than what i wrote two weeks ago #jason todd #red hood #jason todd fluff #red hood fluff #jason todd soft #jason peter todd #batman #jason todd headcanon #jason todd imagines #jason todd blurb #jason todd x you #jason todd thoughts #jason todd imagine #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd angst #redhood x blurb #redhood thoughts #redhood soft #red hood x you #redhood headcannon #redhood imagine #redhood x reader #redhood #dcu

[st4rfckerz]

mdni 18+

anakin loves it when you use him to get off. when you're on top, he can't help but watch your pretty body move rhythmically, your tits bouncing enticingly with each thrust. his hands roam freely over your body, he grips the fat of your thighs and gently guides you along his cock. his hips would rise to meet yours, his aching cock drilling deeper into you, filling you up completely.

"c'mon baby, you got it. take what's yours."

he loves the way you ride him, the way you control the pace, the way you take him deep inside you. he revels in the sounds you make, the way you moan his name, the way you cling to him as you reach your peak. he always sneaks his hand in between your thighs to rub his big thumb across your puffy clit when you least expect it.

"go on 'nd cum angel, make a mess on my cock."

he's more than happy to fulfill your needs, to be your personal plaything, and he'll do it with a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye. he knows that when you cum, it's because of him, and that thought alone is enough to drive him wild.

#y'all are getting spoiled this week #nai writes ୨୧ #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker blurb #anakin skywalker drabble #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin smut #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker #st4rfckerz

[arieslost]

act up | op81

summary: you and oscar have been skirting around each other for ages. it ends tonight.

word count: 949

warnings: drinking (we’re back in the club!), suggestive comments/moments

masterlist — join my tag list here!

© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

oscar couldn’t stop staring at you, and he had no one to blame but himself.

well, himself and the empty shot glass in his hand. he’d lost count of how many times he’d tipped the contents of the glass down his throat, and it’s like that saying— a drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts. or however it goes. if oscar were to insert himself in that equation now, he’d be the drunk guy.

the drunk guy who wanted to do nothing but stare at the girl sitting on his lap: you. he couldn’t remember how you got there for the life of him, but hell, he wouldn’t be caught dead complaining about it. it felt good to let his inhibitions go and his anxiety with them, even if all he was doing was sitting there with his arm around your waist, hand resting on your thigh.

you’re waving down the bartender to pour the two of you another round of shots from where you both sit in a booth, and he uses the liquid courage to rest his chin on your shoulder.

“are you trying to make me act up tonight?” he murmurs in your ear.

you press your lips together, tilting your head towards him so you’re practically cheek to cheek. “maybe. got a problem with that?”

“nope.”

he’s surprised at himself for his lack of filter and complete honesty with you; normally he isn’t even able to look anywhere near you without feeling his face getting hot. the same could be said about you, honestly. the boldest you’ve ever been towards him is giving him a kiss on the cheek when he got a podium finish a month ago, and both of you were bright red afterwards even though you both loved it. it didn’t help that lando had, of course, been there to make fun.

“i’m sick of the two of you. oscar, mate, be a man and kiss her for real.” he’d said, laughing as the two of you somehow turned an even deeper shade of red and looked in opposite directions.

“shut up, lando, for fuck’s sake.” oscar grumbled, punching him in the shoulder a little harder than normal.

“ah,” lando had just laughed harder before setting his sights on you. “if he doesn’t grow a pair it’s gonna have to be you.”

“die,” you told him, not being dramatic about it at all.

“i love you guys too. but not as much as you love each other!” he called before being chased out of the room by oscar’s balaclava and your empty water bottle hurtling towards him.

neither of you could endure lando’s teasing sober, especially not oscar, who spent way more time with him. but here he is, so many shots in that he’s lost count, and you on his lap. he’s going to run with it for as long as possible.

the bartender brings over the shots you ordered, and you pick up both.

“don’t cut me off now, i’m almost drunk enough to ask you to come home with me,” oscar says, lips brushing your neck.

he smiles when he feels you shiver, dragging his hand a little further up your thigh. “save it for when we’re sober,” you giggle as his fingers play with the bottom of your shorts.

“i’m not brave enough to say this stuff to you when i’m sober,” he confesses with a sigh.

“you should be. you know i’ll say yes.” you down a shot, and then hold up the other. “you want this?”

he nods. clearly there’s some magic in the shots that finally allows him to be forward with you.

you lift yourself up, much to his dismay, but he relaxes when you simply turn to face him and straddle his hips. “come and get it, then,” you say with a playful smirk, before tipping back the shot and looking at him expectantly.

you don’t swallow. oscar feels like he’s about to explode. he doesn’t waste any time in leaning forward and firmly pressing his lips to yours, knowing that he would never be daring enough to do this sober, as much as he always wants to. your fingers slide into his hair, carding through the long strands like you’ve done it a thousand times. his hands find purchase on your back, pulling you forward, before they slide down to your hips and squeeze. your mouth opens in surprise, but he’s expecting it and opens his mouth as well, allowing the alcohol to pass from yours to his.

you part from each other for a moment, and oscar barely even registers the harsh burn of the alcohol when he swallows, too intent on kissing you until he can’t breathe.

“oscar,” you moan out against his lips, and fuck, you sound so hot that he can only moan back at you, hands traveling down to your ass and grasping it firmly.

you’re pressed so close to him that he can hear the hitch in your breathing when he does so. he moves his attention to your jaw, your neck, your collarbones, wanting to know what places draw out those beautiful sounds from your mouth.

“oscar,” you say again, sounding more insistent, and he reluctantly lets you pull away. “not here.”

you giggle when his eyes light up. “but somewhere else?”

“somewhere else, when we’re sober.”

oscar pouts. “i don’t know if i can do this when i’m sober.”

“then i guess it’s gonna have to be me,” you echo lando’s words from last month with raised brows.

“lando can kiss my ass,” oscar says with a newfound determination. “i will do this when i’m sober.”

you grin. “that’s what I’m hoping for.”

note: the beginning of this was actually written for a fun little passion project of mine and i wanted to turn it into something a bit more. i hope u all enjoyed!

since this is being posted on march 12 it is important for me to say that this is most specially dedicated to @venusacrossthestars. my entire op81 week event is, but three years ago on this day, we met through a discord server, and i am so grateful to still know you today and call you my best friend. i love you bestie <3

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika !

tags (i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you!): @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @hauntedphotographybookstaco @bigheartsthings @northpizzasposts @notturlover @riv3rbank @gesfjjsl @oliveisunstable @lily1sposts @sadbut-true0 @lilcowboy0 @alltoowelltaylor @kimis-gloves @superheroreader @alexmarie29 @anedpev @lalalaphie @waitingforsmartpeople @arrowenchantress @zillygoose @its-cat-eyes @gxllumsriddles @fionaschicken @mrsgeorgerussell63 @bre013 @lizzypiastri @blldsnjs @samantha-chicago @homosexualjohnwayne @opheliabluewolff @catbat011 @drivelikeiido @what-is-happening-helpp @decafmickey @tania2748 @steviesscoops @annahowardsworld @nessacarty1 @tswizzleismother @anythingforourmoonsy @meko-mt @solonelystill @tomriddleswhorecruxes @sammykiszkalover @landosgirl

#blurb #op81 week #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #op81 imagine #op81 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader

[somnambulic-thing]

Shhh

Just thinking about Eddie coming home from a three cities in five days tour, his voice completely gone.

He looks miserable when he tries to say hello to you despite better knowledge and you flinch at the sound, hearing the pain in the scratch deep in his throat. You clasp a hand over his mouth, shutting him up before he can hurt himself more.

Good thing there's a full weekend before he has to go back to the workshop on Monday, where his day job is waiting for him.

You tuck him into bed, throw a sketchpad and a pen at him and try to turn to get some camomile tea brewing but he snatches the back of your shirt and pulls you in, tucks you against his chest and just holds you there.

It's a weird silence, you can feel the words rattling around in his chest cavity and you're impressed and proud at how much restraint he's showing.

When he lets you go reluctantly, you smother his face in kisses, assuring him you'll be right back. He grins, voices a scratchy hum and softly slaps your ass when you wiggle out the bed.

In the kitchen, you start to get busy finding everything that will help to restore his voice again as fast as possible. You had started to miss it in all its ever-changing variations when you had come home on Monday to an empty apartment to many small voids where Eddie's presence usually lingers in the things he cherishes the most, uses every day.

Clothes and books - he packed too little of one, too much of the other as always - an off-white spot in the shape of a guitar over the armchair that's the only void that won't stay empty in his absence. Not only because you like sitting in this spot, though usually got no chance to sit in here when Eddie is around, but because it smells of him, because you can sink into the impression his presence has left there over the years.

You only have dried sage right now but you'll get fresh one and some other things when he's settled and asleep which shouldn't take too long, judging by the soft purple half-moons under his eyes. He's not getting any younger and hoisting amps at two in the morning after a busy concert days leaves traces now.

Maybe he has already passed out, you think. You've been busy in the kitchen for more than five minutes and he hasn't sneaked up on you yet, impatiently wrapping his arms around you from behind, sinking his face into your shoulder.

But when you get back to the bedroom with a pot full of steaming hot camomile and sage tea and a jar of honey, he's still awake, frantically filling the sketch pad with his scratchy-elegant handwriting.

He looks up when he hears you enter and makes a small, high pitched noise in his chest, his smile a soft curve of gratitude and admiration.

He pulls you back into the bed with him, pulls your legs into his lap and puts an obscene amount of honey into his first cup of tea. You chuckle and make a stupid joke about bees or something when your eyes start to move over the first page of five he had filled in your absence. You don't finish the joke, the thought fading as you fall into the report of his days away.

It's a ritual that you're fond of. It bridges the gap that had opened when you stopped dragging yourself to every gig just for the sake of it. You didn't miss the stress and the claustrophobic haze of it all - after all, you're not getting any younger either - but you missed his euphoria, missed to share his joy and whatever else got his blood pumping fast and hot and wild.

You read it all out loud, commenting in between, forming your inquisitive thoughts into yes or no questions, chuckling, marvelling, ranting, all while Eddie drinks his too-sweet tea in small sips and enlivens your narration with his facial expressions and small grunting noises.

You try not to laugh too hard, for it always makes him laugh as well and you think he knows you're holding back if the way he keeps kissing the corners of your tightly sealed lips is anything to go by. Like small thank you's because you caring for him when he's unwell still blows him away a little, even after all this time.

"You tired?" you ask, when the written report ends mid-sentence and you look up to find Eddie nodding off with his head rolling against the wall. He cracks open one eye, shakes his head, shakes himself awake and no to your question, a hand reaching out to the sketchpad in your lap.

"You can finish that later, Ed." You pluck the cup from his other hand before he can spill whats left in there over the sheets. "You look like shit."

He snorts a laugh, then coughs.

"Shit, sorry."

"S'ok-ay--" he croaks, using his vocal cords out of habit and coughs some more.

"Shhh," you say and start rubbing soothing circles into his back for as long as it takes for the dry, sore heaving to subside again.

"Okay, now you sleep. I'm going out to get some th--"

A hand over your mouth shuts you up. He's shaking his head, fumbling the notepad out of your lap at last with the other one.

Don't want you to leave. Take a nap with me?

"I won't be long, I join you when I get back."

He shakes his head again.

Please?

You barely have time to look at the word when he starts manhandling you up the bed and pulls you down with him, burying his face in your chest.

"Alright," you say, weaving your fingers into his hair while something more than his breath starts to spread warmth through your ribcage. "Alright, I stay."

You feel his muscles relax, his breath even out. Seconds later, he's asleep.

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson x Reader #blurb or whatever #I wrote something after weeks #everybody say 'yay somna'

[merchelsea]

just maybe - lewis hamilton

pairing: ex!lewis hamilton x fem!reader

summary: lewis misses what you used to be, and what a better way to show it than showing up, drunk, at your house?

author’s note: felt like writing lewis today because not enough people do!

word count: 1,1k

you lay on your couch, your phone in hand, mindlessly scrolling through your Instagram feed for what felt like the thousandth time that day. you knew there wouldn't be anything new, but you couldn't help yourself. you had been in the same position all day, unable to shake off the melancholy that had settled over you.

it had all started because you wanted to watch a romantic movie, a harmless way to pass the time. but as the movie played on, you found yourself crying, wishing desperately for a happy ending like the one onscreen. you and lewis used to have those moments, those beautiful moments that now only existed in your memories.

every scene in the movie triggered a bittersweet memory. they weren't sad memories, per se, but the fact that they were over made them so. you decided it was time to stop torturing yourself, to stop watching movies that made you cry over your ex, and to simply wait for something to happen. but, of course, nothing did.

that is, until you heard a series of knocks on your door. you rushed to answer it, expecting it to be a friend or maybe your sister. but when you laid eyes on the familiar brown ones you had been crying over just hours ago, shock coursed through you.

"heeeeey," lewis slurred, clearly intoxicated. fate seemed to be playing a cruel prank on you.

you stared at him for a few moments before finally finding your voice. "what the heck are you doing here?" you asked, blocking his path from entering your home.

lewis smirked knowingly. "oh, didn't seb warn you?" he said, referring to his friend vettel, who must have sent you a message the moment he knew lewis was drunk and thinking about you.

because that's what happened when he got drunk. he'd think back to your relationship and regret every detail that had gone wrong. vettel always thought lewis would try to contact you, but he never had the courage to do it—until today.

lewis had qualified third in a race after a series of unfortunate events, finally giving him a shot at victory. but, unpredictably, he had to retire from the race on the first lap.

"I missed you." lewis confessed, leaning against your doorframe as if aware of how powerful those words were.

"you don't know what you're saying, lewis," you sighed. you had spent the last seven months dreaming of hearing those words from him, but this was not how you imagined it.

"oh, I know exactly what I'm saying. believe me," he insisted.

"you're drunk!" you retorted.

"and? that doesn't change the fact that I think about you all the time. about us. about what we used to be," he said, refusing to give up.

you stood there silently, thinking he would back off if you didn't give him a hint of what you were feeling. but of course he had other plans. you sighed and stepped back from the door, allowing lewis to enter. he leaned against the closed door, and you couldn't tear your eyes away from his.

"I miss you when I'm at the simulator, and you're not there to beat my ass. I miss you when I go to lunch and forget to eat because I'm distracted by your smile. I miss you when toto speaks german, and we don't make jokes about it. I miss you when I'm walking, and our legs aren't in sync. I miss you when I wear my hats, and you're not there to steal them. I miss you when I see a cat on the streets, and you don't try to convince me to adopt it. I miss you when Max wins, and you're not there to congratulate him."

you were rendered speechless. every word he uttered, as he gazed deeply into your eyes, pierced your heart. you couldn't look away, but you feared that if you continued to stare, you wouldn't be able to let him go.

"I know I seem drunk, but this is the most truthful thing I've said in, like, forever. it's been almost eight months, and I still miss you in everything I do," he finally stood up and, somehow, managed to get closer to you. "tell me you don't miss me, and I'll never bother you again."

you took a deep breath and locked eyes with him. it was clear he had been drinking, but not enough to make him drunk. his little play could fool everyone, but it would never fool you.

you knew you missed him with every fiber of your being, but you weren't sure if it was the right thing to say. maybe, just maybe, he needed to move on, to find someone else who fit into his life.

but then, a voice inside your head reminded you that if he hadn't moved on after seven months without any contact, he probably wouldn't after eight. you couldn't lie to him when he had been missing you relentlessly for seven months.

"I miss you when I'm doing laundry, and I don't find your shirt in the wrong basket. I miss you when I'm taking a shower and don't hear the pre-qualifying comments. I miss you when I see a Mercedes on the road. I miss you when I play uno with my friends, and you don't win. I miss you when you're racing, and I'm at home, but not because I have things to do. I miss you when I'm not missing you because of racing."

you also took a step closer to him. "then let me make you miss me the right way again, please."

as you stood there, locked in a moment of intense longing and emotion, you realized that maybe, just maybe, this was the moment you had been waiting for. lewis had come back, admitting his feelings, and you couldn't deny your own.

with tears welling up in your eyes, you took another step closer to him. in that moment, you both understood that some things were too strong to be denied or forgotten, no matter how much time had passed.

you whispered softly, "lewis, I'll miss you no matter what, so please make me miss you the right way."

lewis' eyes lit up with hope and joy, and he gently pulled you into his arms. as you embraced, you both knew that this was a chance to have a fresh start, to rebuild what you once had. it wouldn't be easy, and there were still obstacles to overcome, but you were both willing to try.

in that moment, as you held each other tightly, you realized that sometimes, fate had a way of bringing people back together, even when it seemed impossible. and maybe, just maybe, this was the happy ending you had been longing for all along.

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton x reader #formula one #formula 1 #f1 imagine #f1 masterlist #formula one story #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton au #lewis hamilton angst #lewis hamilton blurb #lewis hamilton fluff #lewis hamilton fashion week #fem reader f1 #f1 reader #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 fic #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula one lewis hamilton

[harrywavycurly]

Random Eddie Concept: You live next door to Eddie and y’all have said the casual “hello” and “good morning” to each other but haven’t properly met, you don’t even know each other’s names. But over the course of a month or so Eddie has learned that you love your plants, he can always count on seeing you standing on your back patio with your watering can every evening and sometimes if he has his windows open he can hear you talking to them and he won’t admit it but he thinks it’s adorable.

That’s why when he notices your flowers wilting he gets sort of concerned because you love your little make shift garden, but his brushes it off to maybe you’re out of town or something. But a few days later when he’s out on his patio having a smoke and he looks over and sees all the plants have gone completely brown and are slumped over in their pots he can’t shake the feeling that maybe something is wrong, so he just takes it upon himself to get his hose out and spray some water on them from his backyard hoping he’s not disturbing you.

He does this for a few days until he finally gets them to show signs of life again, that’s also when he gets the courage to walk up to your front door. He doesn’t know why he’s nervous but his hand is all sweaty when he reaches up to knock on your door. It all makes sense as to why you’ve all of a sudden abandoned your little garden when you answer the door in a robe that has a spaghetti stain on it with your hair in the messiest bun he’s ever seen but he’s also slightly impressed it’s still sitting on the top of your head, it’s all very clear to him that you’re going through a rough patch.

“Uhm I’m Eddie.” He gives you a soft smile and a little wave as your cheeks get red as the realization of how you’re dressed hits you when Eddie’s eyes look you up and down. “I’m your neighbor and I uh just wanted to let you know I’ve uhm been…watering your plants for you.” He explains as you try to adjust your robe so he can’t see the week old pajamas you have on.

“My plants? Oh god my plants.” Your eyes go wide as you remember all the flowers you have on your back patio. “They must be in such bad shape by now.” You run a hand over your face in an attempt to hide your embarrassment and Eddie just shakes his head at you.

“No no they’re fine really uhm most of them have kinda sorta turned a weird shade of green so I think they’ll be okay.” You let out a sigh of relief. “I just figured I’d introduce myself to you in case you look out your window and see me..I’m also uhm always around if you…ever wanna talk or uh…anything.” You give him a little nod as he rubs at the back of his neck clearly nervous and you can tell he means everything he just said so you just smile at him.

“Thank you Eddie that’s really sweet of you.” He just smiles as you introduce yourself and nods as he looks down at his feet for a moment before turning to head down your front steps. “I really appreciate it.” You add as he looks over his shoulder at you.

“You’re welcome…it’s nice to finally meet you.” He states as he gives you a small wave before he heads back over to his house.

Over the next few days Eddie notices you have slowly began watering your plants again and one day he gets home to find a few potted plants of his own sitting on his porch with a little note that says “Water daily and make sure they get sunlight and if you ever need someone to look after them for you let me know” followed by your name and number.

#this isn’t at all inspired by me and the fact I have been in a funk and not watered my plants in a week lol #eddie munson concept #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson au #neighbor!eddie #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson #stranger things au #my little dungeon master baby

[cerisereids]

thinking about the time henry wanted to be spencer for halloween. he was clearly so excited, now imagine how excited he’d be with his own baby :,) i hc spencer as a girl dad always, so i think he’d love playing detective with his little baby girl 🥹🥹

#going to write this soon #i have such a busy week at work this week #but then i have next week off #i need to get my ideas out now tho #or else i’ll forget #writing coming next week 🫡 #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #belle’s blurbs s.r.

[sanguineterrain]

Hiii, discovered your fics on AO3 and they’re very my jam! If you’re still taking requests, could I suggest something where Jason rescues you, an angsty hurt/comfort? Maybe they’re pining for each-other and maybe confront/confess their feelings, or are already together, up to you.

No worries if not 😊😊 Thanks for the good words ❤️🖤

Hey I know you! Thanks for leaving nice comments over yonder 🥰 Idk if I really delivered on this prompt but I hope you like it anyway lol 😅 I combined this prompt with another I received about Jason and the reader fighting before the reader is hurt/kidnapped.

jason todd x fem!reader. tw: creepy men, crime alley, injured reader, jason shoots people (🎶whatta mighty good man🎶)

****

"If you don't know who this is, you shouldn't be fucking calling. Leave a message after the beep or whatever."

Beeeep!

"Jay, it's me. Can we please talk? You can't ignore me forever. I want us to fix this. I—" You swallow hard. "I miss you."

You sigh, rubbing your forehead as you think of what to say. You've already left three unanswered messages. There's no more for you to say. You just want things to be fixed.

You want your best friend back.

"Okay. Call me when you can."

You hang up and pocket your phone.

The fight was stupid. Jason doesn't respond well to being pushed, but you pushed him anyway. You wanted to know where he disappeared to at night. You were sick of the secrets, of always feeling like you were three steps behind, left in the dark.

If you really cared about me, you would tell me where you go.

Jason had stilled, expression cold.

I don't owe you anything.

Your voice had turned wobbly then.

Jay, don't I mean anything to you? I want you to trust me, I want this to be a normal friendship!

He'd put on his jacket and collected the few things he left in your apartment.

You're right. You deserve normal.

You haven't spoken since. At first, you thought Jason left for a few hours to cool down. So you gave him space.

But then hours turned to days, and now it's been a full week and a half since you'd fought. Last night, you broke down and cried. This is it. You've lost him for good.

Part of you fears the reality is darker than him just leaving. You've long suspected that whatever Jason goes out to do is probably illegal since he's always out at night.

What if you're called down to the police station to identify a body?

All those things left unsaid. Jason will never know you love him.

Screw this. You're going to his apartment.

It's late. It's really late, and this is actually not the best idea to carry out at eight o'clock at night in Crime Alley. There's a reason Jason always insists on hanging out at your apartment or at a cafe.

A man whistles at you down the street. "Goin' somewhere, girlie?"

This was a bad idea. Jason might be the one who has to ID a body tonight.

You can't remember which of these apartments is his. But you can't call him. He can't know you're here, not yet.

"You shouldn't be here, lady!" a kid shouts at you from a fire escape. "He don't like new people on his turf!"

You don't take the time to figure out who the kid means. Crime Alley is known for, well, crime. The sooner you can locate Jason's apartment, the better.

A group of men light cigarettes down the road. You pause and turn around. In the process, you stumble over a garbage can.

That instantly draws their attention.

"Well, what have we here?" one jeers. "You lost, sweetie?"

You run.

You don't care if it makes you look afraid—you are afraid, and you're beyond caring. You shouldn't have come here.

You turn abruptly. You have no idea where you're going, but maybe if you act like you do, you'll throw them off. You take another turn, then another, and you look behind you to check if—

Wham!

You crash into a body. A muscled body, one that forces you backwards.

White, glowing eyes that smolder inside a red helmet meet your own.

Jason's never warned you about the Red Hood. He just tells you to stay away from the area altogether. You don't really need to be warned about Hood anyway. You know what he's about. You know you've probably just sealed your fate tonight.

"What the fuck?" he asks, modulated voice rough.

"I'm sorry," you babble. "Please don't hurt m—"

Gunshots ring out, and you realize you've just stumbled into an active gunfight. With Red Hood.

Fuck your luck.

The gunmen have spotted you, and they take great pleasure in using you as a distraction; they fire at you instead of Hood.

He shields you with his body, blocking the bullets. It works until a flash grenade is thrown, and you're separated from Hood, ears ringing. You hit the ground hard from the impact, scraping your hands and arms.

Someone's arm wraps around your neck, and you're suddenly dragged backward. You scream, scratching at the arm, and a fist thumps your head. You blink at the pain, too dazed to keep fighting.

"We had a deal, Hood!" your captor shouts, arm tightening around your neck. "Let us go or she dies!"

"Negation's over," Red Hood snarls, and shoots all four men.

You cry as the shot echoes too close to your face and for a moment, you fear you've been shot too. The now dead man slips off of you, collapsing in a heap on the ground.

Your ankle protests when you step on it. In the chaos of the fight, you hadn't realized you sprained it. You trip and fall on your butt, scrambling away from the pooling blood.

"What are you doing here?" Hood growls at you, stalking closer.

You start to cry, edging backward.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your fight, please d-don't kill me—"

You press down hard on your wrist and that hurts more than your ankle. You cry harder at the pain, grabbing your wrist.

Red Hood gets closer, and you try to scramble away with one arm and one leg. He kneels down and holds your good arm in place so you can't move.

"I'm sorry!" you say again, tears thick on your lashes.

"Fuck," Hood says roughly, and unlocks his helmet.

Your eyes widen as he pulls it off.

"J—"

"I told you to never come to this area, and you come alone, in the fucking dark, without a weapon? What the hell is wrong with you?" Jason snarls.

"Please don't yell at me," you whisper, covering your face with your hands.

You're shaking, adrenaline turning your stomach. A moment later, you throw up.

"Shit," Jason says and puts a hand on your stomach to help you sit back up. "Shit, I'm an asshole. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell."

"I thought you died," you say, daring to look at him. "You weren't answering my calls, and you only go out at night. I thought..."

Jason immediately looks avalanched by guilt. He cradles you to his chest.

"Fuck. I'm sorry. I should've—I thought it would be better, leaving."

"I didn't want you to leave," you cry, arms curling around his neck. "I love you so much, Jay. I was so scared. Don't leave me again."

Jason's breath hitches. You freeze, suddenly sure you've screwed it all up.

"Jay—"

"Y'love me?" he asks, cupping your cheek.

You nod emphatically.

"Even though I'm..." He gestures to the helmet.

"I'm just happy you're alive," you say. "I missed you so much, Jason."

His arms tighten around you. "God, I missed you too, baby. I was going crazy not talking to you. I'm sorry I ignored you. Wasn't right of me. But don't ever do this again, okay? If I hadn't been here—"

He takes a shuddering breath and kisses your neck. You nod against his shoulder.

"I promise. Just don't shut me out again, please."

Jason's quiet for a moment. You can feel him thinking.

"This isn't gonna be normal," he says. "If-if we do this. This is part of me. Who I am."

"I don't care," you say. "I love you, Jay. Every part. Whatever that entails."

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd fanfiction #red hood x reader #red hood x you #batman fanfiction #dc fanfiction #i do notttt like how this one came out but im lowkey struggling to write this week so. oh well 😔 #inbox #blurb

[lvstrucks]

Congrats on the 1k 🤍🫶🏻

Could you please do Charles Leclerc + invisible string

The air in the park had been crisp, the grass bright, and yourself wrapped in a wooly scarf the day you met Charles.

"Hello," you greeted happily, petting the fluffy dog who'd bounded over to your bench and begun excitedly sniffing you, wagging it's tail.

"Where are you supposed to be right now?" You'd said aloud, looking up as a man jogged over. The dog barked happily at your attention, lightly gnawing on your sneaker.

"Sorry, sorry." The man apologized in a French accent, linking his fingers in the dog's collar. "I'm watching my friend's dog- he got away from me."

"That's alright," you blushed. The sun reflecting off his dark hair made you flustered. "He was a sweetheart."

"Oh, your shoe!" the man's cheeks went red. "I'm so sorry, can I buy you a new pair? Or at least a coffee?"

You sat neatly tucked into a little booth across from the man who had introduced himself as Charles.

The waiter brought the coffees to your table and faltered for a second as you both thanked her.

"I'm sorry, you look really familiar," she said to Charles, frowning. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

Charles shook his head, feigning confusion.

"No, sorry," he winked at you. "You must have me mistaken for someone else."

#lvstrucks swiftie week #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #cl16 x reader #cl16 x you #cl16 imagine #formula 1 x y/n #formula one x you #formula one x reader

[little-pondhead]

Rick Astley Is Haunting You

-

Someone bets Tucker he can’t hack into a hero’s patrol playlist and sneak a Rick Roll in there. He does, easily, and finds that said hero has horrible music taste.

So he sets out to hijack every hero’s music playlist he can find and rate their music tastes on a chart, sometimes adding in his own music or joke songs he thinks they’d like. It only gets back to the heroes when Tucker posts a video with his rankings. Up until then, they thought it was another hero or new villain messing with them. Not a civilian??

(Nightwing’s playlist is sixth on the list, and he’s furious about it.)

#dpxdc #pondhead blurbs #tucker just putting new music on playlists and judging superheroes #they hate it #someone pissed Danny off and Tucker hacked into their shit and played the baby shark song for three hours #i queued this #y’all ever try to take a day off and your manager straight up tells you that you can’t #because everyone ELSE is taking that day off? #anyways in other news I broke a glass because I did not have the time to recover from last week 🥂 #honestly if it was the main manager working today I would have insisted that I need today off but it wasn’t #and I’m not gonna do that to the manager who was on shift because that girl gets put through enough stress #so by the time you see this assume I’m already in a coffin

[edgeray]

Arlecchino is a patient person.

(Arlecchino x Reader Blurb)

Contrary to what people may think of her, as hotheaded her Pyro Vision may suggest that she is, Arlecchino is a patient person. She reserves patience for the right people, for those worth her time and worth her consideration to even wait for. There are few that do qualify for both of those qualifications, but it is often limited to the children of the House of the Hearth.

And you.

There are times that necessitate haste. And there are times that necessitate patience. She had known since the start of her relationship with you that she needed the latter, even when an internal part of her wanted the former. Because you are not a duty ordered for her to complete. After all, she can't hurry the bud's growth and expect a rose in full bloom. A relationship with you is both spontaneous and gradual, and it is the graduality of things that make the spontaneous that much sweeter, that much more beautiful.

You make her impatient however. You make her restless. Like her former coworker, Arlecchino knows that one day she will also be buried in ice, having died from her service to the Tsaritsa. She does not know when this day will approach, but she fears, yes, fear, that it will be soon. The Fourth Harbinger does not have many things she is afraid of. Cautious, perhaps, wary. If she were to part from Teyvat, the House of the Hearth would be in good hands, she assured that there is already a successor that will take her place. She is wary for what might come for the children, hence why she had taken precautions already.

There is no precaution for you. The day that she does not come home, she knows that her death will surely shatter you.

She knows this because your smile radiates warmth toward her, your touch is tender and innocent on her skin, and your words are whispered and soothing. A pleasurable constant in the everchanging and unpredictable world she's in.

She knows this because every night, you refuse to fall to asleep unless it is under her covers and in the safety of her arms. It matters little to you if your sleep is few or many, you wait every time for when she finishes with her work so that the two of you could sleep together.

She knows this because every time she must leave the confines of home, you kiss her throat with red lipstick to leave a mark of your presence on her. And every time she comes home, you envelop her in welcoming arms and kiss her lips, regardless if she's arrived at the doorstep bathed in blood.

She knows this because you take her hands and instead of shifting your sight away in disgust or jerking away from fear, you trace over each crease and fold of her blackened skin. When you intertwine your fingers with hers so perfectly, she wonders if this was the purpose for her hands: to hold yours.

It is for this reason that she does not want to be patient even though she needs to. Time with you is not eternal, it is an indubitable fact. But she knows patience is key, and the ring in her pocket cannot be displayed to you so thoughtlessly. You deserve so much better than that after all. When the stars align, she will surely take her chance to make you officially hers.

Arlecchino is a patient person. But you make her impatient.

#shitttt since i have the time might as well? #was thinking of making this into a little series #since i'm on spring break and have the time #maybe 1 blurb per day until the end of my break? i'm fr spoiling arlenation #then it's back to disappearing for a couple of weeks :D #school be like that sometimes 🥲 #take this as an apology for “Arlecchino is a cold person.” #actually no I'm not sorry for that lmfao #anyways #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you