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lovelytsunoda · 7 months

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glad I crashed the wedding // oscar piastri

summary: she needed a wedding date. he wanted a reason to spend time with her. but of course, the inn only has one bed, and oscar makes her feel alive in a way she's never felt before.

pairing: oscar piastri x female! reader

warnings: sexual tension, one bed trope, difficult sister relationship (though they love each other very very much), eventual smut, fake dating (I’ve been reading too much Ana Huang lately)

“so let me get this straight,” she began, swirling the coconut-mango-pineapple icy drink in her hand, leaning back against the photocopier. “you, the great oscar piastri, wants to come home with me to be my date for my sisters wedding, and you don’t want anything in return?”

oscar nodded, a wide grin on his face as the copy machine continued to churn out waivers for the hot lap guests to sign. “that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“but why?”

oscar shrugged, trying to come up with a convincing lie. “because I’m your friend. and this is what friends do.”

y/n sighed, sipping her drink before turning away from the driver. keeping eye contact was dangerous when it was with oscar piastri. when it was with the man who set her nerve endings on fire, who made her stomach churn like the rising tide with a gesture as small as a wave, or an offer to buy her a drink.

who had an accent that made her core throb, soaking her panties right through when she thought about how his voice would sound in her ear if he was whispering some less-than-holy things to her.

“I don’t want to subject you to the insanity. you might not want to be friends after you meet my family. we can’t even be in the same room sometimes, it’s like dropping a match onto a pile of dry leaves.”

oscar laughed and she tried to ignore the shivers the sound sent up her spine, the rising goose flesh on her arms as she counted the waivers, having to start the count over again more than a few times.

“I’m sure they’re not that bad.” oscar reasoned, taking the file folder from her, insisting on lightening her load. “I just want you to feel at ease.”

she rolled her eyes, grabbing her drink as she started to walk out of the motorhome. “I’ve been living in delias shadow since I was fourteen. she’s a well respected medical professional; and I went to a three year college. everything she does is perfect. hell, she’s getting married this weekend and here I am, convincing myself that letting you tag along is a good idea so I don’t look like I’m going to die alone.”

it’s not like she wasn’t successful. she was a part of the legal team for one one of the biggest racing names in the world. when Oscar’s contract dispute started, she had been the one who served otmar his papers (and to this day, saying the words “otmar szafanuer you have been served, see you in court” was still one of the finest moments of her career).

it’s just that delia always brought out the worst in her, every insecurity, every flaw she hated about herself. their childhood has been fraught with insecurity and competition.

she sighed, leaning against one of the paddocks scratchy palm trees, bark digging into the skin on her arms. oscar was still trying to plead his case, and she wondered why she was fighting it.

this is what she wanted, wasn’t it? oscar on her arm, making her feel like she was wanted, loved, even?

she took another sip of her drink before she spoke again.

“we’ll probably have to share a hotel room, and my dad might threaten you with his antique saw collection. you’ll also have to stop me from killing delia with my bare hands before the big day.”

oscar chuckled, handing back her file folder. “I think I can handle that.”

that goddamn smile. that’s where it all started, when she first started to think about his lips on hers, his hands in her hair, his mouth wrapped around her nipples.

why on earth was she agreeing to this?

“you’d better be up bright and early tomorrow. it’s a long flight and my dad is meeting us at the airport. as far as everyone knows, I’m not bringing a date.”

the feeling of his hand against the small of her back burned into her skin. she could feel his body heat through the thick fabric of her papaya golf shirt as he started guiding her towards the garage where the hot laps were being conducted.

“oscar, what are you doing?”

he grinned at her, baring his pearl-white teeth, in their slightly uneven top row. “if we’re going to convince your dad that we’re together, we’d better start practicing.”

god, this man was going to be the death of her.

————

she regretted inviting oscar along the second they got off the plane.

from the moment they passed through airport security, it was as if a switch had been flicked in her brain, converting him from the serious, driven race car driver she met at the track, to a man straight out of the romance book she had been listening to on the flight. his hand was rooted to her back protectively, and he wouldn't let her carry any of her luggage on her own.

she could get used to this, she thought, watching his t-shirt ride up over his defined abs as he reached into the overhead cabin to pull down her two small suitcases.

they walked peacefully through the terminal, oscar pushing the baggage cart with one hand, his free arm looped over her shoulder.

"you know you don't have to act like my boyfriend until we see my father, right?" she said hesitantly, running a thumb over his knuckles. "my feelings won't get hurt if you don't want to pretend when nobody else is around.

oscar acted like he was about to say something, but he was cut off by a shout across the airport.

"y/n!" the voice shouted. "there's my girl!"

"dad!" she shouted, breaking away from oscar's side to launch herself into her father's arms. the constant travel that came with working in formula one took it's toll, and she didn't get to see her father as often as she liked. she'd had to move to england to work with mclaren, and her family had stayed behind.

she never said she loved that part of her job, but a little space away from her family often made her appreciate them a little more.

"dad, i want you to meet someone." she started, waving at oscar, who lumbered over with the weighed-down baggage cart. "this is my boyfriend, oscar." despite the lie, and how foreign the words were, saying them almost felt right.

my boyfriend oscar.

"i'm carl, nice to meet you." her father said, his voice a slight bit more gentle than his usual grunt.

oscar shook carl's hand, a bit of weariness on his face as he slipped his smooth, dainty hand inside carl's larger, more calloused one. "nice to meet you, sir."

carl raised an eyebrow. "australian? you'd better not be giving my daughter any of those australian kisses."

"dad, what the hell!?" she whined, hiding her face behind her hands as a blush began to coat her cheeks. if there was one thing she definitely was not getting from oscar piastri, it was australian kisses.

oscar thought she was cute when she was flustered. it was such a shame it took him an hot minute to figure out why.

australian kisses are like french kisses, just down under. it was mark who had said it to him first, in an attempt to be funny. as the meaning set in for oscar, he found himself silently cursing mark webber.

but it didn't mean he didn't get half-hard thinking about having his head between y/n's thighs.

________

"you've got to be shitting me."

she knew they would be sharing a bedroom. all of the plus ones were rooming in the chic, trendy motel with the guests who had invited them. and that would have been fine.

except that this hotel only had a queen bed, done up with plush white sheets and a small turquoise blanket draped over the bottom half.

a queen bed that she would have to share with a man that she wished would fuck her brains out.

"i can call the main office if you want." oscar suggested softly, reaching for the door handle. "i can see if they have another room, or they could bring a cot in for me?"

she sighed, raking her hair over her head as she looked around the room. "don't bother. the motel only has fifteen rooms, and it's booked solid for delia's wedding, between her bridal party and the fiancée's family, i doubt they'd even really have a cot. we can manage, right?"

oscar nodded, hands buried deep in his sweatpant pockets. damn those gray sweats.

"we can make a towel barrier, and the bed is more than big enough for both of us. hell, we could probably have a threesome on that bed and still have space."

did oscar piastri not have a single drop of shame?

she shook her head, trying to forget the thought of a half-naked oscar hovering over her, whispering things in her ear. she made a grab for her suitcase placing it on the bed and grabbing a handful of clothes and a travel bath and body works bottle.

"i'm going for a shower, can we talk about this afterwards? i'm jet lagged and i really just want to sleep."

"sure." oscar shrugged, spreading hismelf out on the bed, arms over his head so that his shirt once again showed off his stunning lower torso.

she tried to stop herself from staring at the happy trail dipping under oscar's waistband, but she failed miserably, her eyes following the small trail of hair down to the waistband of his jack and jones boxers, to the impressive lump underneath his jeans.

if his cock was that big when it was soft, how would it feel when it was hard, throbbing and inside of her. just the mere thought was making heat grow between her legs-

nope. we're not going there today.

she squeaked out some kind of muffled statement, clutching her clothes to her chest and making a mad dash towards the bathroom door. a cold shower should fix this, right?

when oscar heard the shower turn on, the music clicking on soon after, he sat up on the bed, rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes. he knew he should shower as well, but the fatigue of air travel was beginning to set in. a small nap wouldn't hurt, right?

he got up from the bed, socked feet sliding against the laminate floor as he reached for the wheels on the bottom of y/n's suitcase. all he needed to do was close the suitcase, move it out of the way, close his eyes, and then drift of into a peaceful slumber.

all he had to do was hope that he didn't wake up hard, or moan her name in his sleep. it should be easy, right?

wrong. the suitcase slipped out of his grip, almost sliding off the bed before he thanked god for his reflexes, stopping the suitcase from hitting the floor, save for a few articles of clothing.

he leaned down picking up the black busted tour shirt and denim shorts, his breath catching in his throat when he saw what was resting on the area rug underneath.

it was a mass of bright peach lace, the color so close to the mclaren signature papaya, his heart hammering in his chest as he picked it up and unraveled the halter bralette. he bit back a moan as he stared at the lace and mesh that left very little to the imagination.

he started to think about his mild-mannered co-worker wearing it, her perky nipples pressing against the bright, skimpy fabric.

the mere thought sent all the blood rushing straight to his cock.

god, he was down so bad that it should be criminal.

he shouldn’t be thinking about whispering dirty sweet nothings against her skin, or sucking a hickey into her thigh before he plunges his tongue inside of her.

he shouldn’t be thinking about anything that would make his boner worse.

and that was when he heard the bathroom door open. and there wasn’t enough time to hide the sweat seeping from the pores on his skin, the tent in his sweatpants, or the fact that he was still holding the offending lingerie in his hands.

“it’s not what it looks like!” the driver sputters, turning around to face her, and bitting his lip to stop himself from losing whatever composure he has left.

she’s wearing booty shorts that barely cover her backside, the ass emblazoned with the acronym for the college she attended, her top half covered with a loose-fitting muscle tank sporting a skeleton on a surfboard, the sides of her bare tits just barely visible through the arm holes.

“oscar,” she breathed, voice raspy when she saw the tent pitched in his pants. “do i turn you on?”

“you have since the day I met you.” he admits, dropping the bra and slowly moving closer, hesitantly running his hands down her still-warm sides. “tell me, y/n, do you touch yourself when you think about me?”

“i could ask you the same.” she shot back, her voice wavering as she pressed her hand shakily against oscars clothed cock. “your boyfriend act didn’t feel like an act this morning.”

they shouldn’t be doing this. it was crossing so many lines. but when oscar looked her dead in the eyes and breathed out a single word, all thoughts of self control went out the window.

"yes."

she pressed her lips against his, nipples springing to attention as she pressed her front against his, his hands moving from her sides to squeeze and caress her breasts, her mouth falling open in a moan against his lips. oscar took that chance to slip his tongue inside her mouth, his hands migrating to her hair as he maneuvered their bodies towards the bed.

she took the lead once her back hit the mattress, practically ripping her tank top off and casting it aside, hands making a mad grab for oscar's plain white shirt while he kissed and marked up her neck.

she whimpered under his touch, and would have been embarrassed had she not been so turned on.

"oscar, please." she begged, spreading her thighs as she tried to grind her core against his thigh. "i need you. i need your cock so deep inside me that i can still feel it three days later."

oscar practically growled at the admission, pulling his lips off her right tit. "are you begging for me, pretty girl? do you want me to make you feel good? hm, want me to treat you right?"

"yes." she breathed, tucking a hand underneath his boxers. "please, oscar."

god, his name sounded so sexy rolling off her tongue. he couldn't think straight when she had her slender fingers wrapped around his cock.

"are you sure you want this? because once i have you, i won't let you go. i'll need more."

"i'm sure, oscar. and i'm not just saying that because i think your mild possessiveness is kind of hot."

oscar smiled, a small, imperceptible blush forming on his cheeks. "you think i'm hot."

"since the day i met you." she hummed, sewing her lips to his, her fingers tugging on his hair, a small moan leaving his throat.

"oh, so pretty boy likes it when i tug on his hair." she giggled. "i learn something new every day."

"keep talking like that, and you won't be able to walk in the morning."

"i look forward to it."

oscar looked around, his eyes settling on the mirror hanging opposite the bed, right next to the bathroom door. he felt his dick throb as an idea formed in his head, pulling away from the body lying prone on the bed.

"shorts off, all-fours on the bed facing that mirror." he ordered, trying to keep a gentle tone in his voice as he clambered off the bed, stripping out of his sweatpants and boxers, hard member jutting straight out as her touched himself, trying to find some kind of release from the pressure between his legs.

she shivered at the command before making a show of dropping her shorts to show off the cream coloured cotton thong she was wearing, laughing to herself when oscar's eyes rolled back in his skull, a moan escaping his throat.

"god, you're going to be the death of me, sweetheart."

she couldn't deny the excitement in her bones as she settled herself on the bed, arousal literally dripping down her thighs when she looked in the mirror and saw oscar looking at her, mounting the bed behind her before slapping his cock against her ass.

in a more tender, loving action, oscar leaned over her, pressing a kiss to the top of her spine.

"you're so pretty." he whispered, the compliment sinking into her skin like tattoo ink before he sunk into her, gripping her hips and closing his eyes to try and show some restraint as she got used to his size.

it was a sinful picture in that motel room mirror as he began to rut into her, watching her tits shake in the mirror, listening to her sweet whimpers and whines and pleads for more.

"god, yes, oscar! feels so-so fucking good, oh my god."

he met her eyes in the mirror, sweat running down his chest and dripping onto her back as he kept thrusting, the same relentless pace. "you're so good for me, pretty girl. so stunning, so sexy with my cock inside you like this. god, you're prefect. perfectly mine."

he practically growled the last word, knowing damn well that he was ruined for any other woman.

-------

they woke up in a tangled heap of limbs, not knowing where one body ended and the other began, lazily exchanging kisses as the sun rose outside.

"oscar, we have to go to the rehearsal." she whined as he kissed her neck. "if we're late, i'm never going to hear the end of it."

"don't care." oscar hums, running his hands up and down her sides. "i would gladly stay in bed with you all day and order room service so we don't ever have to leave."

"osc." she warned, sitting up in the bed and pulling the duvet over her chest. "we're going to the rehearsal. i'm a bridesmaid, remember?"

fifteen minutes later, oscar was in the bathroom steam-cleaning the wrinkles out of his suit while she tried on the bridesmaid dress, caramel fabric falling over her skin as she stared at herself in the mirror.

the same mirror where, just twelve hours before, she had watched oscar piastri fuck her brains out.

she felt heat on her hips, and didn't even need to look up to realize that it was oscars hands, gently caressing her skin through the satin. he gently kissed her shoulder blades, his hands moving to do up the zipper she couldn't quite reach.

"you look beautiful." he hummed, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. "you deserve better than me."

she giggled softly, tugging his arms away from her hips and around her waist, sinking back into his arms. "no i don't. you're exactly what i want, oscar. you're funny and you're sweet and you make me feel like the best version of myself. you're also really great in bed."

oscar laughed, kissing her softly. he would never get tired of feeling her lips against his. "the boyfriend stuff was never an act. and i volunteered to come with you this weekend because i wanted to get to know you off the track. who you are when you aren't serving legal papers to team principals."

"i only did that once. i missed out on the chance to fight with chip ganassi since arrow has a different legal team." she laughed. "i really like you, oscar."

"and i really like you too, y/n. my perfect, beautiful girl."

-------

the wedding came and went, marking the end of y/n and oscar's dream weekend, the reminder that very soon, they would all be going back to their real lives.

that she and oscar would need to figure out where they stood with each other.

but she didn't want to think about that. not while she was dancing with her sister, the pair of them finally getting along as they screeched the words to an old tove lo song.

oscar watched from the table, sitting next to y/n's mother and making polite conversation as his lovesick eyes found her under the disco lights.

"someone is feeling lovesick tonight." mrs. y/l/n hummed. "we heard you two last night. the motel walls aren't as thick as you think."

oscar blanched, coughing on his drink. "you heard all that?"

y/n's mom laughed. "her father had to leave the room and get a coffee before he walked in there and strangled you. y/n is always going to be his little girl. but she's growing up, and i think if she has you in her life, she'll be okay. you're good together."

oscar was about to say something else when a shout rang through the room. "delia is doing the bouquet toss!"

all of the members of each wedding party gathered in the middle of the floor, y/n's sister standing on the dj stand, her white dress brushing against the floor and picking up specs of dust and dirt, as she lifted the bouquet over her head.

y/n mother rested her hand on oscar's forearm, staring at him with a knowing look, hoping her other daughter would be the next to tie the knot.

sure enough, it was almost like fate as the boquet of white roses soared into the air, nailing y/n right in the face and tumbling into her arms as the other bridesmaids cheered. her face was pink and she was trying to hide behind the bouqet as delia came to pull her into a hug.

"i love you, sis. and i'm sorry i didn't know how to show it when we were younger." delia gushed, kissing her baby sister on the forehead before nodding her head at oscar. "you've got a good one. don't let him get away."

"i won't." she laughed, wiping at the tears threatening to fall down her cheeks. "i love you, deels."

the song changed, a slow kesha ballad humming through the speakers as the singer crooned about her old flame, and how they couldn't hold a candle to her current love. she turned away from her sister, who had just gone to find her new spouse to dance with, only to see oscar, looking dapper in his black suit and bowtie.

"can i have this dance, my love?"

she smiled, leaving her bouquet with her mother before stepping into oscar's arms, wishing for nothing more than to wrap herself around him like a woolen sweater. she rested her head against his chest, allowing herself to fall into him while they swayed to the music, his lips pressing a kiss to her forehead as dolly parton began to sing the second half of the song.

man, she could really get used to this.

get used to oscar.

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @httpiastri @sidcrosbyspuck @scuderiamh @silverstonesainz @lorarri @love4lando @thatsdemko @diorleclerc

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #the cozy collection 2023 #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #oscar piastri x y/n #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #Spotify

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illyrian-dreamer · 1 year

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Congratulations on 500 darling!!!!!!!! Can I please request 30 with azriel? Thank youuuuuuu 🤍🤍🤍🤍

Confessions at Starfall

Azriel x Reader one shot

Summary: It's the night of Starfall, and you're hopelessly in love with the Shadowsinger. When Azriel keeps flirting with Elain, you're pushed to your final limits.

HELLO AND WELCOME TO DAY 1 OF 5 FOR 500!

Thank you @cityofidek for requesting 30 - Unrequited love/pushing loved one away.

Warnings: None.

Words: 3,048

--------

It was the night of Starfall, and you were utterly miserable.

Sitting at the dining table with your family, the rest of the inner circle exchanged jokes and light-hearted conversations as plates of steaming roasts, vegetables and pies were passed around. While it was usually your favourite holiday – the night ahead promising dancing and celebration, you were feeling far from festive.

It had everything to do with the male you loved, who sat across from you now, dotting over Elain Archeron. His eyes rarely left her, and you would know, because yours rarely left him. You noted the way he sat, his body tilted slightly in her direction, his wings folded back to make provide her more space to move. To the untrained eye, it wouldn't look like much – but for Azriel this spoke volumes.

That was the kind of detail you had learned to read over the past year. It had been twelve excruciating months since you had realised your own feelings for the Shadowsinger. Gone was the comfortable friendship you two shared – instead it was quickly replaced with blushing, timidness and uncontrollable awkwardness, all thanks to you. And while you once held out hope that Azriel might notice, or even return your feelings, overtime your friendship had drifted – pushing him further into the arms of the middle Archeron sister.

Elain made you seethe with jealousy. It wasn’t her fault, she was nice really, all be it a bit simple. But she had a way about her, like a doe-eyed fawn their first steps. It made you uncontrollably angry the way people would line up to help her, especially the males. Not to mention her undeniable beauty. You knew she and Azriel made a very handsome couple.

So you sat here tonight, marking every bit of attention the Spymaster gave Elain, longing for him to look at you the way he did her. Jealousy didn't even begin to cover it.

“Y/N?”

You blinked, not realising Azriel was speaking to you even though you had stared off straight in his direction. You coughed, straightening in you seat. “Sorry, pardon?” Your heart beat at the thought he might have started a conversation with you.

“Can you pass the potatoes?”

Your heart dropped, and you tried to hide the disappointment on your face. Of course he wasn't interested in talking to you, he hadn't in weeks. Without replying, you passed over the dish, reaching straight for the white potatoes instead of the orange kind. Azriel didn't like how sweet they were, and you knew that. It was the kind of detail you remembered about someone when you’re hopelessly in love.

“Ooh, can I please have the sweet potatoes?” Elain chirped. “They’re my favourite.” Of course the sweetest female in all of Prythian liked yams the most. You had to suppress the urge to roll your eyes. You passed the dish over silently, and watched Azriel load up his plate with those too. It took everything you had to stop the scowl that twitched at your eyes.

You pushed your fork and knife to the centre of your plate, suddenly having lost your appetite.

————

The luminescent glow of the stars shooting above had been going for over an hour, and the party was in full swing. You breathed in, letting the magnificent sight lighten your heart the way they did the night sky.

Gathered on a large marble terrace of Rhys and Feyre’s river home, almost a hundred guests had come in fine gowns and suits to celebrate the event.

Wearing a dress of midnight blue that sparkled with night, you laughed lightheartedly as Cassian and Nesta joked with you, champagne in hand. The musicians at the base of the terrace reclaimed their seats, raising their instruments and beginning a new set of elegant melody.

“I hope you don’t mind Y/N, but I must show off my mates dancing,” he winked at you before offering his hand to Nesta. She smiled, placing a delicate hand atop of his, nodding to you before being lead to the dance floor.

Couples now twirled and stepped in unison, the sight almost as magical as the sky above. You felt a large presence slide beside you, and your heart fluttered as shadows caught the corner of your eye.

“Are you enjoying your night?” Azriel had finally come to spend some time with you.

“Of course,” you lied, smiling softly as you gulped the rest of your champaign, earning a slight raise of Azriel’s brow. “And yourself?”

Azriel nodded. “It’s as beautiful as always.”

“Yes, it is.” You couldn't help but stare straight into his hazel eyes, your heart lurching as your words hung with double meaning. Ask me to dance, you begged in your head. We dance every year on Starfall, c’mon, just ask me. If Azriel was paying any attention, he would have read your pleading gaze. But he wasn’t, of course, because his eyes fell beyond you, at the pretty Archeron who wore a gown of delicate blush.

You looked down, suddenly overwhelmed with insecurity as you smoothed the ripples in your dress. Of course he didn't like you – you looked like a witch of death compared to the femininity that blossomed from Elain.

“You look quite beautiful tonight.”

Your heart leaped. Your anger from earlier quickly vanished as you breathed in to thank Azriel, already blushing. But as you looked up, your heart immediately sank as you realised Azriel wasn't complimenting you at all, but rather Elain, who had made her way over.

It felt much like being punched in the gut.

Your mouth was dry as you silently watched Azriel offer her an arm, her petite hand slipping through as he guided her to the dance floor.

That felt much like being kicked in the gut while you were down.

You couldn't help the steady flow of tears that now stained your cheeks, or the broken crumple that formed on your face. Unable to withstand any more blows, you fled the party.

————

Slumped against the frame of a large window, your body shook with cries so hard they fell silent. You didn't care if it was the most special night of the year, you had never felt more abandoned, underserving and unloved.

You were crying too hard to hear the footsteps that trudged up to the lookout room you were hiding in, and you didn't hear the faint knock at the door. It wasn't until Cassian placed a gentle hand on your shoulder that you noticed his presence, his face soft with concern as he crouched next to you.

You blinked back at him, your vision completely blurred by your tears. You were broken and there was no hiding it.

“I love him, Cas,” you sobbed, your voice break halfway through as a cry shook through your body again.

“Oh, Y/N,” Cassian said softly, his voice full of understanding as he immediately embraced you. You flung yourself to him, wrapping your arms around his solid waist as he rocked and stroked your hair. You weren't surprised that Cassian knew, anyone could have noticed months of hopeless pining and one-sided puppy love.

You continued to cry, your voice muffle by the embrace. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing Y/N! There’s not a thing wrong with you.”

“Then why doesn't he love me?”

“Because he’s a damn fool.”

You sniffed against his chest, trying to regain yourself. “But he loves her.”

Cassian sighed, the strokes on your hair pausing for just a moment. “I’m not sure that’s true.”

“Of course he does. She’s perfect.” Jealousy was not a good colour on you, but you were unsuccessful at hiding the bite in your words.

Cassian drew back, levelling his eyes to yours. “I know it hurts right now doll, but I promise, any male that doesn't see you for the beautiful, intelligent and fiery bombshell you are, is an outright imbecile. Even if it is my own brother.”

You chuckled at that, shaking your head as you gently wiped the makeup your were sure had stained under your eyes. “Thank you Cass,” you whispered, reaching for his hands tightly. He stood now, leaning down to plant a kiss on your forehead.

“Will you come back to the party with me?”

You forced a fake smile, but shook your head. “I happiest up here. Thank you though Cass, I mean it.”

Cassian nodded, throwing a tight smile of sympathy before ducking out of the room.

You paced to the other side of the viewing room to the window facing the terrace below where celebrations continued. Dresses of all colours fanned against the marble of the terrace, the music flowing up to the height of the room. And the stars, Gods they were beautiful.

You saw Cassian rejoin Nesta, his arms snaking around her waist as they admired the view. Next to them were your High Lord and Lady, and beside them, a dress of pale blush. Your heart stung with envy at the site of Elain, and you narrowed your eyes as you scanned the crowd for Azriel.

“Y/N?”

You jumped, whirling on the spot to find Azriel sheepishly standing in the doorway.

You cleared your throat, quickly wiping under your eyes again. He had hurt you, broken you without even knowing it. You straightened your spine – the least you could do was have your pride.

“Are you ok? Cassian said you left the party.”

You nodded tightly, not trusting yourself to speak.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” The words flew out of your mouth too quickly.

Azriel frowned, stepping through the door towards you. You stiffened, drawing one step back. “Go back to the party Azriel,” you said tightly.

“Have you been crying?”

You scowled. How dare he note that detail when he was the one who caused it. “Don’t pretend to care,” you spat. Gone was the ache in your heart from moments ago. Seeing Azriel here now, it was quickly replaced with fiery hurt.

“What?” Azriels brow was now contort with confusion as he reached for you. You stepped back again, your arms folding over your chest.

“Why are you angry with me?”

“How can you ask that?”

“Is it because we’ve been distant lately?” So he did have some clue after all. You didn't answer, instead breaking from the intensity of his stare, your eyes focusing outside as glowing spirits that shot past the other side of the window.

“Listen, I know I haven't been around much, or maybe it’s that we haven't spent time together lately. But things have been difficult between us for a while now Y/N. I can't help but feel you’re pushing me away.”

A scoff escaped you before you could stop it. “I’m pushing you away?!”

“Yes!” He exclaimed, his hands outstretched. “For months now. You don't open up to me like you used to, every time I look at you, you look away, and you never suggest spending anytime together.”

You blinked at him, biting your lip as you tried to process what he had said. You hadn’t realised that in an attempt to burry your feelings for Azriel, you had actually pushed him away.

“Tell me, what have I done?” Azriel’s voice was pleading as he stepped closer.

“You haven't done anything,” your voice was barely a whisper, and you were unable to meet his eyes. You had stepped away so he could explore his feelings for Elain, that was your truth. But when was the last time he made an effort for you? “But you can't pretend like you’ve been trying either, Azriel.”

He sighed then, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re right, I’m sorry ok? I’ll make more of an effort from here on.”

You nodded, tears welling in your eyes again as you blinked quickly, casting your gaze sideways yet again. You couldn't tell him – it would ruin everything.

For once, Azriel caught on to how upset you were. “You’re still angry with me?”

“Gods, Az! I wish I was angry!”

The male blinked at you before frustration overtook. “Well perhaps you could stop talking in riddles, and actually tell me what’s wrong!” he gritted.

You let out a quick breath, shaking your hands as you blinked upwards, trying your best to stop the tears that welled. “I can’t,” you whispered. It would kill you to say it, and it would kill everything you two had.

Azriel’s gaze softened when he saw how tortured you were. Uncrossing his arms, he walked over, cupping the side of your face. “You can tell me anything, Y/N. Just tell me, what’s going on?”

His hazel eyes scanned your face, begging you to open up. But there was so much at stake here, and even if you confessed, you knew his heart lay with Elain.

You shook your head, moving out of his hold. “If you can’t see it for yourself Azriel, I don't know what to tell you.”

Azriel frowned. “You’re speaking in riddles again.”

You threw your hands up in defeat. “Perhaps I am,” you sighed, suddenly drained of any energy you had left. “Listen, I’m exhausted. Please Az, just enjoy the rest of your night, ok?”

“I’ll walk you to your room.”

“No,” you said too quickly. Guilt struck you at the twinge of hurt on Azriel’s face. “No, thank you. I’ll be fine.” Your voice was tight, and you quickly turned your heel, leaving Azriel still and silent as he watched you leave.

These feelings – these stupid, foolish, unrequited feelings. They hurt you and everyone involved, and you hated yourself for it. It was obvious Azriel didn’t return your affection, so why did you have to drag him down and cause a scene? You needed to do better, needed to push your love for him down, burry it in the depths of your heart so it would no longer get in his way.

————

You were in your room for barely an hour before there was a forceful knock on your door. You jumped, pulling down the length of your silk night slip as you spoke out loud. “Who is it?”

You door flew open then, Azriel’s large frame filling the entrance as he stepped inside, his expression wild, with another emotion you couldn't quite place. His wings were outstretched, and you could tell he had winnowed here hurriedly as his chest heaved with quick breaths.

Shocked, your eyes darted over him in panic. “Azriel, what –?”

Azriel stalked towards you, closing the distance as he towered over you.

“You love me?”

You gawked, your eyes moving back and forth as you tried to connect the dots. “Who–?”

“You love me?”

Cassian. You gritted your teeth and your fists clenched. How could he share something so private?

“No! I mean, yes, I mean, I have feelings for–”

“You, love, me…” he repeated, slower this time. It was no longer a question.

Your body burned in shame – you needed air. Pushing the double doors to your private balcony open, you grasped the railing as you tried to breath deep. Azriel was right on your tail.

“Az, I’m sorry. I’ll get over you. I promise. These feelings, they’re— they’re only temporary, I swear. I—I’ll get over you–”

Azriel bought a single scarred finger to your lips, hushing you instantly. You swallowed, panic in your eyes as they darted between his hazel ones, trying to read his reaction. As per usual, Azriel’s face was unreadable, the only movement was the gold that swirled within them.

“How long have you loved me?” he asked, his voice cold as ice. You felt as if you were tied to a chair, under his interrogation.

“Twelve months,” you whispered against his finger, your cheeks stinging in shame.

Azriel raised his brows. “So for a whole year, you have loved me, without so much as a thought to share that information?”

Your frowned in confusion. “I had no plans on telling you, Azriel. I didn't want to get in your way. You and Elain–”

“What of Elain and I?”

You levelled a look at him now. “C’mon Az, its clear you have affections for her.”

“You have no idea how I feel.” There was a bite to his words, something you weren't used to from the Shadowsinger. “I am a friend to Elain, because her transition as fae has been difficult. I enjoy her company, that’s true. But I am there to support her as my High Lady’s sister, and a member of our family. If I am someone she can trust, someone she can open up to, I will be there to support her.”

You sighed. “I understand that Az, but–”

The finger returned to your lips, cutting you off. “That does not mean –” Azriel drawled, his voice low, almost dangerous. “– that I have affections for her.” He was dancing with your emotions, using them against you to teach you a lesson.

You blinked back at him, your heart fluttering with realisation before denial quickly took over. “You love her,” you whispered, more to yourself, refusing to believe the dynamics you had built in your head were an embellishment of your own idiocy.

“I do not.”

“You do.”

“I do not.” Azriel’s voice was a growl now.

He moved in closer, and your heart began to thunder. The finger against your lip fell to cup your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. Azriel’s eyes swirled with dominance, his expression almost predatory as shadows danced between you. He leaned in close, his fresh scent filling your nose as his lips were now mere inches from your own.

“I have affections for someone else,” he said huskily. “One might even say I love her, for many years now.”

It took all that you had not to gawk. Instead, you kept your eyes on his. “Don’t mock,” you replied, your voice a half gasp as you tried to control your breathing.

Azriel’s mouth pulled into a smirk. “I’m not mocking.”

You flicked your gaze to his lips, then back up to his eyes, your expression bewildered and completely uncool.

“Azriel–” was all you got out before he closed his lips over yours, his arms snaking around your waist as he dipped you back, kissing you as the stars continued to fall around you.

--------

AN: I just want to say another HUGE thank you to anyone who's been following along with my fics, you mean the world to me <3 I hope you liked this story, I would love to hear any feedback you have. Please take care, and comment if you'd like to join any of my tag lists ✨:)

Tag list:@kennedy-brooke @cosmic-whispers @jazmin2211 @psychobookaholic @fieldofdaisiies

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months

Text

Dirty Work 17

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: It's friday again.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Once Leslie leaves, you lock yourself away again. Your father's taken to the cold shoulder over his previous aggression. You don't mind, it assures you of a tenuous peace. So long as you don't draw his attention, you're okay.

Your anxiety remains piqued. Not only by your father's stewing ire but the thought of what looms both behind and ahead of you. With all that happened at work, you have little hope of tomorrow being better. There is also the question of Mr. Laufeyson's surprise... you can't even begin to guess what he has in mind.

Another test, no doubt. Like today. You're certain you failed that one too. You took his kindness and showed yourself to be ungrateful. You questioned him when you should have just accepted it with a smile on your face.

It is not your place to worry about his intentions, as he has made it clear, you are not on the same level. He is your boss and you do what he says. So you will do that and nothing more.

Is that his voice in your head?

You sneak out for a shower but it doesn't do much to calms your nerves. You spend another night tossing and turn, kept awake by the television set a top volume and the dissonance of your anxiety. Even with the extra hours granted, you find yourself painfully awake at the same splitting hour.

You get up to make your tea. Your father's snoring on the couch at the TV continues to blare. You don't disturb either as you put on the kettle and ready a mug. You rub your eyes and yawn. Leslie will be here soon. You should wake him and get breakfast going. It will lighten her load.

When you have your cup steaming, you stay at the counter and sip tentatively, weighing your next steps. You leave your father as he is and return to your room, dressing and cleaning up before you descend again. You have your phone in hand, almost hoping a notification will pop up. Maybe Mr. Laufeyson will change his mind and you can be off before you have to face your dad. The phone remains lifeless.

You sigh and shut off the television, hoping the sudden silence might rouse him. He continues to snort loudly. You bite down on your cheeks as your skin buzzes and itches. He's not a morning person.

The memories of him exploding to consciousness in a furor of hollers and kicks keep you from shaking him. You back away as the doorbell rings and does the job for you, your father grumbling as you go to answer it.

Leslie enters with her usual blustering brightness. She greets your father and stops short, hands on her hips as she tuts.

"Now what is the meaning of this?" She huffs, "Charles, you can't sleep down here."

"I'm not," he sits up and hacks into his hand before sliding the oxygen tube back into place. "You woke me up."

"What's gotten into you?" She accuses, "I told you yesterday I'm not here for your attitude. You're not some teenager, you're a grown man."

"Bah, I need coffee," he snarls.

"You need a cold shower," she retorts as she goes around the couch and snatches up the pack of smoke on the cushion beside him, "and a swat on the snout. What're you doing with these things?" She pauses and looks at you, "he can't be having these in the house."

"I don't... know where they came from," your murmur.

"Don't matter, if you see them, you toss them," she reproaches, "this is a team effort, alright? Now yesterday, this place was a right mess. I'm here to help, not play maid."

"I'm sorry, I..." you snap your mouth shut. You did clean up, as best you could before work, but you'll have to do better.

"Not her fault she's useless," your father quips.

"Charles," Leslie warns as she points at him.

"Sorry, hon," he puts his hands up, "was only a joke."

"Not a very nice one," he rebukes.

"I know, I know," he chortles.

"So don't apologise to me," she flicks her finger towards you.

Your father stops his laughing and quiets. He crosses his arms and slumps his shoulders as you stare at the back of his head. You wait as Leslie tilts her head dangerous and cross her arms.

"Charles," she girds.

"Don't worry about it," you croak, "it's fine. I'll... I'm going in late so I'll get breakfast started."

"Oh yeah, she don't gotta go polish that man's silver early," your dad growls.

"Charles," Leslie snips again, "I mean it, be nice."

"I am nice, hon, I'm being funny."

"You are not," she insists.

"Come on, Les," he lowers his voice as you pad towards the kitchen, "I'll be good, alright? Don't give me that look."

She sighs but you don't look back, "alright, no more smokes."

"I'm tellin' ya, honey," he speaks so softly you barely recognise his voice, "I didn't touch 'em. Found them in the couch but I didn't smoke any. Don't be mad at me."

You shake your head and try to roll the tension out of your shoulders. She's been here just over a week and he talks like he's known her forever. He's actually nice to her. He cares about what she thinks, what she feels. But you, his own daughter, you get the blame for it all. You're the reason he hates himself and his life. Maybe if you'd never come along, he'd still have the woman he loved.

🧹

You set off just after eleven, the bus due not long after. As you come down the overgrown walk with its cracked pavement and uneven tilt, your eyes are drawn up by the snap of a car door. Footfalls scuff on the pavement as you look over the curb to the shiny car parked there. It's an unusual sight in the rundown neighbourhood.

Mr. Laufeyson proudly steps up as the window on the passenger's side rolls down. A pair of similarly green eyes peer out as she takes in the sight of the yellow duplex. You want to run and hide. You can't imagine either of them ever had to dirty themselves in a place like this.

"Mr. Laufeyson," you rush towards him, "I--- you said noon."

You pull the phone out and check the time. He puts his hand on the roof of the car calmly as you stop a few feet away. He chuckles, amused by your panic.

"It's so quaint," Frigga remarks as she remains firmly in the front seat, "dear, how are you?"

"Um, I'm well, Frigga," you answer with a tight gulp.

"Good, good, you look well," she praises, "a bit tired. Tell me he's not overworking you."

"Mother," Laufeyson shoots a glance in her direction.

"Er, it's fine," you clutch the strap of your bag, "I... did I do something?"

"No, no," Frigga waves off your suspicion, "I simply insisted my son bring me to see you while I'm in town."

"Oh, I was just on my way..." you look at Laufeyson confused as he gives an expression you can't quite read. He's expecting something but you're not sure what.

"We have lots to do so no sense in waiting around," she trills.

"Oh?" Your lips part. "Did something-- is the house okay?"

"The house is just fine. That old place only needs a little light, but see if my own son hears me," he rambles, "Loki, don't be rude, get the door."

He flinches and drags his hand away from the top of the car, "yes, mother."

He moves to open the back door, gallantly opening it for you. You feel like you've been dropped into an alternate universe. This can't be happening.

"Get in," he says.

You blink at him and he tilts his head, gesturing to the back seat. You obey with some reluctance and sit the large leather bag beside you. You slowly pull the seat belt down and click it into place. Laufeyson strides around the bumper as you peek in the mirror at Frigga's silvering curls.

"Right, then," Laufeyson opens the driver's door and lowers himself into the seat, "there we are."

"How are you feeling, darling?" Frigga's eyes meet yours in the rearview before you quickly look away, "are you very hungry or can you wait a bit longer for lunch?"

"I... Lunch? I'm okay," you assure. You can't figure this out. "Thank you."

The car whirs and rolls into motion. You're uneasy as you watch the street pass by. If he takes a left, he can get back to the main roads and-- no, he's going right?

"Mm, alright, the boutique first then," she orders her son, "I'm wondering if perhaps they could squeeze us in at the spa. It has been a while since I had some clay done. Oh, and my nails are ragged."

You try to connect the dots as your brows stitch together. Is this his surprise? His mother? Why are you there? You should be figuring out what's going on with the squeaky hinge on the closet.

"I can't wait to see the new season's colours," Frigga carries on as you tune her out, lost in the riddle of her presence and your own.

Surely, you're being brought along as some sort of valet. Of course, Laufeyson would offer you to carry her bags as she splurges on her pretty dresses. And she is always dressed so nicely whenever you see her. And make up, her lips are a pleasant shade of rose. She would likely spend even more on shoes, don't forget the silver sparkling at her throat and the gemstone dangling there...

Right, you see. Another lesson. He wants you to remember what you don't have. After your slip-up yesterday, he has to remind you of where you belong; squashed under his sole.

"Oh, is Eliana still at the salon, I should stop in and say hello," Frigga's voice once more punctures your distraction. "She was always so sweet."

"Mother, I... don't know about that. Maybe a different salon."

"You are such a pessimist, what are the odds we run into her?"

"Don't even tempt fate," he warns.

"No one said you were invited, hm? You said you had business down at Heimdall's."

"You are stubborn, mother," Laufeyson tisks.

"It's where you got it from, dear," she taunts, "so, darling," she peeks in the mirror again and you shy away, "how about it, you and I? It will be so nice. I haven't gotten a day out in so long."

"Oh, you haven't? Should I ask father about that?"

"Let's not mention your father," she rebuffs him smoothly and his shoulders slump.

"Um, well, that's nice, but..." you protest meekly

"It's my treat," she insists, "please. You're doing me a favour."

"I really don't know--"

"I don't mind," Laufeyson interjects, "and it won't affect your hours."

"I did soften him up a bit," she purrs.

"Mother," he hisses again.

"Oh you are so serious," she chides, "she needs this more than I do, I'm sure, with a stickler like you."

He twitches but says nothing. You sense he wants to say it again, 'mother', in the tone of please be quiet. It would be laughable if you weren't so perplexed by it all. Maybe it is a dream. Maybe you didn't wake up and you're oversleeping your alarm, having stress dreams about what will happen when you wake to reality.

"He's a good little chauffeur," she pats his arm playfully, "so he will drop us at the salon, won't you, dearest son?"

He grips the wheel tight and you see his knuckles turn almost translucent, "yes, mother, whatever you wish."

🧹

Mr, Laufeyson drives through the downtown area. You don't come there much, or at all. You passed through on your way to the hospital and on occasion to sort out a billing issue with the bank, but there wasn't much for you there. Along the west side, the nicer shops reside and several buildings with businesses you could never figure out.

Laufeyson pulls up into a marked spot beside a meter. As you stare out, still puzzled by it all. Everything's going so fast and you just want it to slow down. You look at your boss and feel a pang in your chest; how many times had he mentioned your clothes? This isn't a favour, this is him saying you're not good enough.

"Come, come," Frigga gets out and opens your door for you, "let's not drag our feet."

You undo the seat belt and go to grab your large leather bag. As you get out, Frigga catches you by the shoulders. "You won't need this," she takes the bag and reaches past you to put it back in the car, "only your pretty self."

"Oh, uh, sure, okay," you look again at Laufeyson but you're not sure why. He isn't going to help you. He's plunged you into this situation. He only arches a brow in response.

"Just going to give you a nice refresh," Frigga pulls on your elbow and shuts the door, tugging you onto the pavement. "You would do wonderful with some highlights."

You stumble along beside her, overwhelmed by her enthusiasm. She directs you to the shining transparent windows of a salon, a sign overhead with a curled iron bar across the top. You peek over your shoulder again as Mr. Laufeyson lingers another moment before steering out into traffic.

The door chirps as it opens and you're ushered inside to the sound of jazzy pop covers. You can't choose where to focus as the sleek shelves of colourful bottle behind the pure white counter refracts the lights of a spindly chandelier. Velvet chairs are arranged around a table in the little waiting area as stylists gab with clients in chairs.

"Frigga," a woman with platinum locks flutters over with the clacking of heels, "oh, it's been so long."

"Eliana! It has, look at you," they embrace and part, Frigga playing with the tall woman's pin-straight tresses, "what happened to the black?"

"Got a few grays and a divorce," the woman, Eliana you presume, cackles, "and who's this?"

They look at you as you're ready to fade into the black and white stripes on the wall.

"Oh, a friend, she's lovely," Frigga comes back and takes your hand, drawing you forward, "she just needs a little touch-up."

"Oh, she's a natural, she won't need much at all," the stylist approaches you, "I know just the woman; Luciana," she claps and looks back, "I have someone to fill in that cancellation.”

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #maid au #dirty work #mcu #marvel #avengers #thor

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halfmoth-halfman · 1 year

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daisies and daffodils - 1k celebration

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader Synopsis: You picture your own home, lying in bed as you watch Simon cradle a child that looks just like him to his chest, a soft lullaby drifting from his unmasked lips to your son’s ears- a secret just between the two of them. Word Count: 1.7k Warnings: alcohol, panic attack mention Disclaimer: I do not own modern warfare or any of the modern warfare characters.

The party for little Rodolfo Vargas’s first birthday is a thing to remember.

With the entirety of the 141, the Vaqueros, and their plus ones in attendance, the house is packed full of people. Most everyone gathers in the great room, adding gifts to the ever-growing pile of presents in the center of the room or fawning over the chubby toddler sitting in Alejandro’s arms.

You bounce back and forth between the great room and the kitchen, offering your help to Mrs. Vargas as she frets over the food; you don’t have the heart to tell her that in a few hours everyone will probably be too drunk to care- they’re already well on the way there. She welcomes the help, not that she needs it; the woman is on top of everything and you don’t know how she does it.

The constant movement gives you the chance to say hello to everyone and makes the time pass quickly. Every so often you catch eyes with Simon as he looms in the background, far enough away to not be surrounded by people but close enough to not appear rude. When you see him, you give him a soft smile and raise your brows- an assurance that you’re okay and the silent question if he is. He nods back, gesturing his head slightly toward the group.

I’m fine. Go have fun.

The time comes for little Rudy- a nickname that chokes up big Rudy every time he hears it- to go to bed; his head lolling onto his father’s shoulder as he can barely keep his eyes open. Alejandro passes the toddler to his wife with a laugh, sending them upstairs with a kiss on the cheek each.

She stops you on her way to the staircase, asking if you mind helping her bring some of the presents upstairs as one of the Vaqueros comes out of the kitchen with a loud cheer and a bottle of Alejandro’s expensive tequila. You agree easily, both of you knowing the presents will be safer upstairs than down here.

Arms loaded with boxes and bags, you play a cautious balancing act as you follow Mrs. Vargas through the halls of the second floor to the nursery. She pushes the door open wide for you to follow through, heading across the room toward the crib. You have to turn to the side before you’re able to fit all of the gifts through the door.

You’re halfway into the room when your right side lightens considerably and the top few boxes are lifted from your sight. You turn in surprise to see Simon’s disapproving gaze staring down at you, the presents tucked carefully against his side.

“I could’ve handled it,” you pout, continuing inside. With a roll of his eyes, Simon follows you silently, keeping directly behind you- your shadow whether you like it or not. Mrs. Vargas stands in front of the wooden crib, bouncing a fussy Rodolfo in her arms and gently shushing him.

“You can put those over there,” Mrs. Vargas instructs, gesturing towards the already giant pile of stuffed animals and toys on the other side of the room. You nod, carefully setting the gifts down and taking the rest from Simon as Mrs. Vargas grabs a bottle for Rudy.

There’s a small exclamation behind you and you drop the box in your hands, knocking over a few of the stuffed animals. Fixing the toys, you hear movement behind you followed by the hushed voices of Mrs. Vargas and Simon.

“No, I’m not-“

“It’ll only be for a few minutes. Thank you!” You turn back in time to see Mrs. Vargas hurry from the nursery.

“What happened?” you ask, looking at Simon. You freeze, taking in the scene before you. Simon stands in the center of the room, an imposing figure of threat and darkness surrounded by the beiges and bright yellows of the nursery, glowering at you with his shadowed eyes as the toddler in his arms pokes and pinches at the painted cloth of his mask.

If he wouldn’t kill you, you’d take a picture.

“She spilled milk on her dress,” Simon explains, leaning back as Rodolfo lightly slaps his nose. He narrows his eyes slightly at the child, obviously angry but you can see the way he holds himself back to not be too menacing.

There've been talks of children between the two of you before, all ending the same: with a distant promise of someday that you both know you’ll more than likely never see. You’re sure that’s the most you’ll ever get out of Simon- you know all too well the ghosts that haunt him- and you’re certain in any future you have with him, kids or no kids.

But seeing the display before you, the imposing figure that is your husband holding a hand in front of the baby’s face to let Rudy play with his fingers, the two of them stood against the beautiful portrait of the Mexican countryside- a large field sprinkled with daisies and daffodils against the rocky mountains-, it stirs something in you.

You picture your own home, lying in bed as you watch Simon cradle a child that looks just like him to his chest, a soft lullaby drifting from his unmasked lips to your son’s ears- a secret just between the two of them.

Rudy giggles, looking up and staring into the depths of your husband’s eyes and Simon lets out a rare chuckle- a low rasp you yourself have only heard a handful of times- and then…

Simon freezes.

You can hear his breath hitch as he stills, hand falling to his side and you spring into action.

“Let me take him,” you say, voice soft and calming, approaching Simon slowly, making sure he can easily see you. Simon says nothing, passing you the baby with vacant, glassy eyes. You give him a reassuring smile, unsure if he actually registers it. He steps past you, rushing out of the nursery and brushing past Mrs. Vargas as she reenters the room, dress completely clean with a few more presents in her hands.

“Everything alright in here?” You nod, smiling as she sets the presents down and you gently pass Rudy back to her. She cuddles him close, pressing a kiss to his head and you try to ignore the way your heart suddenly clenches.

“You want me to grab some more presents from downstairs?”

“No, no. Go enjoy the party,” she assures you. “I already hid everything that seemed fragile.” She sends you away with that and a wink and you make your way downstairs into the sea of drunken soldiers.

You’re able to wade through the crowd without incident; Soap almost ropes you into a drinking contest, but you deflect his attention to Gaz and make your escape to the kitchen. You lean against the counter, allowing yourself a moment to breathe, and stare out the arched windows.

There’s a small flicker of movement to your right. You lean over the sink to get a better angle and spot Simon leaning back against the wall, eyes shut tight.

It takes you a minute to find water amidst the vast spread of alcohol, but you fill a glass and head outside.

“It’s me,” you call out as you approach him. Simon doesn’t acknowledge you as you join him, leaning with your shoulder against the wall so you can face him. His breathing is measured- in for four, hold for four, exhale, repeat- his hands clenching in and out of fists at his sides.

You stay quiet, staring out over the countryside for as long as it takes Simon to calm himself.

When his breath finally evens out, he pries his eyes open, grimacing at the sudden flood of light. You hold out the glass of water, which he takes and pulls down his mask to quickly drink without thanks, setting the glass on the ground beside him when he’s done.

“Can I…?” You hold out your hands as he pulls his mask up, his eyes unfocused as they glance at you then down to your hands then back to your face. He nods, turning his attention back to the scenery. You reach out and take his hand in yours, firmly but loose enough to let him pull away if he needs to.

You hold his hand over your chest, pressing it close to you so he can feel the calm rhythm of your heartbeat. You’re not sure if he can actually feel it through your shirt and his gloves, but you try anyway.

“I remember when Joseph was that little.” He speaks softly and then quieter adds, “I can’t do that again.”

He doesn’t look at you, staring off into the far distance and even farther past. You squeeze his hand, doing your best to smile despite the way your heart clenches- you’d never force that on him.

“We can always get a cat.”

Simon grunts, brows knitting together.

“A dog, then?”

He sighs, finally turning to look at you, focused and more himself.

“You can have a fish,” he says sternly, but you can hear the teasing edge to his voice.

“What about a guinea pig?”

“You get one fish.”

“Or something exotic, like a snake?”

“One fish.”

“Two fish? Small ones.”

“…fine.”

You seal it with a kiss on his hand and a wide grin. Simon stares at you as he slides his hand out of your grip and winds it around the back of your neck. He pulls you close, pressing his forehead to yours with a soft bonk.

“Thank you,” he whispers, thumb gently grazing the side of your neck. Two simple words, but a million meanings behind them: thank you for being here, thank you for caring, thank you for understanding, thank you for not pushing.

“Always,” you return, and you mean it from the deepest depths of your soul. You let him hold you there for another few minutes, waiting until he pulls away first before stepping back.

“You want to go back inside?” you ask and Simon nods, though a bit reluctantly. “Good, 'cause Soap said something about a drinking contest and we should probably interfere before Price’s scouse makes an appearance.”

You reenter the party with Simon right behind you where you’re instantly absorbed into the chaos and drunken merriment of your friends.

Maybe there’s a distant future where you’ll be celebrating your own child’s first birthday. Or maybe you’ll spend your years in a small house, accompanied by your two fish. Either way, it’ll be spent with Simon, and you’re okay with that.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #mw fics #moth writes #private

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linomilkers · 10 months

Note

How about when you use a Safe word? You can do it with either Lino or Chan <3

Sure :-) thank you for requesting! I chose Chan this time around but let me know if you want Linooo next :-)

[warnings: dom/sub dynamics, safe word use, spanking, degradation, overstimulation, subspace]

____________________

Chan was stressed.

Of course he was; comebacks were tiring, leading up to it, during it, and even after it sometimes, the schedules could be packed and busy with little time for reprieve. All of them let the weight of it sit on their shoulders but for Chan it's just a little different -- being the leader is just a little different. He's tired and stressed for himself, and he's tired and stressed for all of the members. While he lightens their load, he triples his own. He's always done that.

Y/N knew he'd be calling her more because of it; she would have been shocked if he didn't, honestly. He always messages her when things are a lot and he needs some sort of reprieve, at least a couple of hours where he can be mindless and follow his more base instincts. Split her thighs, tuck himself between them, and do whatever it is that he wants to do.

They've got rules established, and a safe word always, and Chan is good about following both. In the moment he may say something possessive, maybe a little mean about how she's a whore, she's his whore, to have and to fuck and to claim -- but afterward he's always so grateful. They weren't together and for some reason he's convinced himself that Y/N gets nothing out of this arrangement ("You're good in bed and I cum a lot and you feed me after, I think I get plenty out of this too, dummy."), so he treats each experience with a lot of care.

Because Chan on a good day is a little rough in bed, and likes to squeeze and manhandle and toss her around like she was a rag doll for him only. On a day he's let stress fill his bones? He's spanking and slapping and biting; Y/N is okay with all of that -- she likes it, if she didn't then she would tell him and they'd never do it again, but it's seldom he does something she doesn't enjoy. Sometimes she'll slip into that soft, floaty spot; where it's nice and quiet and Chan makes all the decisions so she can just let her mind flutter off. Chan can usually tell when it happens and he's mindful of it, and keeps doing what he's doing but with a softer edge, more praise, a few sweeter words. She's still a whore, sure, but she's his sweet whore -- that makes a difference in the moment.

Tonight had started out no different! It was the same set up -- she got a message around 8PM while she was snuggled in her blanket on the sofa. Y/N reached for her phone on the cushion beside her, saw that it was Chan asking if she was free, and she replied.

That depends. . .do you have snacks?

lol do you want snacks?

yes

I'll get some snacks then

okay, omw

Chan doesn't expect her to dress up so she usually doesn't, and since she'd just showered for the night, she was in a big shirt and some soft new pajama bottoms that she'd gotten a couple of weeks ago. She gave him a few minutes to actually get snacks for her before she grabs her things, looping her bag over her shoulder and petting her her cat on the couch before heading out. This would be the third time this week he's called, but Y/N had told him she'd be busy next week so she wondered if he was just trying to get it all out of his system now.

The drive to his dorm isn't too ridiculous, so not much time passed between the time he messaged her to her getting there. She knocked, he let her in with a shy little giggle and his dimples popping, and he complimented her shirt (it had a duck on it) while he played with the hair at the nape of his neck -- all of it was the usual stuff.

They usually don't just jump right into it; Chan likes the build up, playing around it, dancing around each other. He invites her into his room, sometimes they pass Jisung who is always polite and has his headphones around his neck (Y/N doesn't know if it's in preparation or not but she's too embarrassed to inquire). Maybe she gets to hear some of the stuff they're working on or maybe he wants to not think about work at all, and they'll just chat, and gab, and Y/N is just the right amount of bratty that gives him a reason to be rougher with her. She always waits patiently though, for him to be comfortable, to make the first move, to crawl into the bed where she's usually sitting stretched out and tucking his face into her throat. He'll kiss up her neck, suck a bruise just beneath her jaw, make his way to nip and bite at her mouth.

Y/N is good with everything he does with her -- to her -- usually. She can handle the overstimulation, and the degradation, and the swats to the inside of her thighs, or how he slaps her breast before grabbing and kneading it. She loves all that, it makes her tremble and squirm, and it's just good. Too good -- so good that she just slips right into subspace without even realizing it.

And Chan doesn't realize it either; he can't see her face, to be fair, and she thinks that's usually a dead giveaway. She's covered in drool and cum and bruises, she's sore, he's made her cum 4. . .maybe 5 times at that point and she was quivering with every breath. And he was still saying things, being rough, being mean how she usually likes, but maybe not right now -- maybe she wanted to be told she was good, and she wanted to be pet on, and cuddled against.

But her back was cold because he wasn't stretched over her how he usually is, and his nails bite into her hips. "Just a filthy hole," he grits through his teeth, the sound of their hips colliding and her squelching around him the only things echoing in the room, "Made for me to fuck. Have you always been such a little whore?"

She gasps when his hand slid around her, his fingers swirling over her clit and her toes curl but it's too much, "M'not a whore," she whines, muffled into the pillow.

"Mm, sure," he hums, mocking her as he swats her bum, "And the sky is neon green. If you weren't a whore then why would this pussy take my cock so easy, hm? You opened up like you've been begging for it -- don't I fuck you enough?" Y/N can't answer, her muscles are tight all over, she feels overwhelmed with her chest swollen and her breath caught in her throat. He slaps her bum again, it's a stingy burn she usually likes but now she gasps again and grimaces, "Answer when I ask you a question. Or do you want me to spank your ass until it's sore?"

"Pineapple," Y/N whines out, the first time muffled with the pillow still but she pulls her face from the cushion that she'd been clinging onto, shaking her head, "Pineapple!" She repeated, puffing a harsh breath through her nose.

Y/N doesn't use her safe word often, but from when she has, she knows Chan is always good about it. Just like he is right now -- he slips out of her gently and takes his hands away from her swollen button. He doesn't let go of her hips because he's the only thing keeping her from flopping down on top of the dried cum and the wet little spot she'd been making from how wet she was. He scooted them over just a hair and shoved the sheets that were beneath her out of the way, before guiding her onto her back.

Y/N feels bare and cold as the sweat cools on her skin from the fan blades whipping above them. She hugs her arms around herself but Chan pulls a knitted blanket from the end of the bed and pulls it over her, "Is it okay if I touch you?" He asks, his voice careful and gentle. Y/N nods quickly -- she hadn't fallen that deep into it (when she does that, sometimes she can't even find the words or her voice to speak them).

He cradles her cheek in his hand, wipes away tears that she hadn't realized wet her skin before pressing a gentle kiss to the lips he'd only just been biting and gnawing at earlier, "I'm sorry, baby," he murmured, "Was I being too rough?"

"Just -- just a little," she caught her breath, curling into the blanket but pressing close to his body. His chest was broad and he smelled good, she noses her way into it, "Felt like. . .felt like a lot when I feel like this."

"Hm?" He's confused but the cogs in his brain click and turn quickly then, "Ohhh," he wrapped his arm around her, flattening his palm between her shoulder blades and keeping her pressed close, "I see. You're feeling floaty, aren't you?" She nodded, "Sweet thing, it is hard to handle when someone's being rough with you like this. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she presses a kiss to the center of his chest, his skin soft, "You didn't realize."

They spend some time like this, Chan rubbing her back, her arms, pushing kisses to her forehead -- it's sweet and warm and soft. The aftercare (even if it's premature) is always the best part, Y/N would say, and she thinks Chan likes it too. He likes to feel needed and to take care of people, and this is a way of doing it in such a relaxed way. Just snuggling close, being kissed, told that she did so well for him that she made him feel so good. Eventually she pulls out of it, and when she does, she untucks her face from his chest and lies her head on his bicep. She blinks at him, and he smiles, dimpled and sweet, "Are you okay?"

"Mhmmmmm," she hums, "Right as rain."

"Good," his smile gets bigger, "Do you want to stay and order take out and maybe watch a movie or something?"

Y/N raises her brows, "You already fucked me, what are you trying to butter me up for?" She's only joking -- they do this all the time, because they were just friends at the start of this with no benefits included but she loves seeing how his face warms up bright pink and he's patting her bum and whining at her.

"Hey, I'm not buttering you up!" He grumbled, "I just want to spend time with you, is that so bad?"

Her heart squeezes in her chest, then feels like it swells up, and pushes her ribs to the side to make room for it. He has a nasty habit of making her feel all gooey and in love, but she swats that away just as soon as it comes in favor of snuggling back into his side.

"Yeah, I'll stay," she replied, "Order something good."

#stray kids smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #stray kids x reader

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saintslewis · 9 months

Text

❝ get you ❞

pairing: Lando Norris x black fem! reader

summary: joining a specific group of youtubers on their channel wasn't something you'd envisioned for yourself but your friend, Ria, managed to get you into Quadrant. How Lando reacts is for you to keep reading 🤭.

warnings: a few…implications, outfit descriptions

taglist: @thisismeracing @goldsainz

saint’s team radio: I’ve had this idea for a while now but i had to get fully into Lando and now that i am, i hope you enjoy this 🫶🏽 (sorry if there are any typos!)

Switching the engine off, your platform Doc Martens stepped onto the rocky ground as you exited out of your sky blue bmw e30, definitely turning a few heads that were outside the warehouse you and the Quadrant members were going to be filming in today.

Fixing the maxi skirt that clung to you, you closed your car door and felt a buzz from your phone. Ria sent you a message that she was coming to you only for you to hear your name being called by your friend. "Y/n! Oh my days hi!" Ria exclaimed with a big smile on her face as she ran towards you.

Embracing each other, you two swayed for a few moments before letting go. "I haven't seen you in forever! I've missed you loads." You expressed, still holding hands and now walking away from your car, double checking that it's locked.

"Ugh, you have no idea how boring it is as the only girl on the team," Ria rolled her eyes, earning a laugh from you. "But you'll love it here, promise that. Also, just get ready for a lot internet attention because it will get to ya." She informed, pulling you into the large doors of the warehouse where you saw that they were setting up for an eventful video.

Ria brought her hand to shell her mouth, "Oi boys! Someone's here that I want you to meet!" She yelled over to the group of guys sitting around a table, laughing. All of them stood up with excitement on their faces as they came closer to the two of you.

"Hi, I'm Y/n." You introduced yourself with a small wave and a smile on your face, maintaining eye contact with all of them. "Well hello, I'm Max, this is Ethan, Aarav, Niran and Steve and i have no clue where Lando is but he'll be here soon. And over there is my girlfriend, Piper." Max introduced himself and the rest of the guys along with a girl standing with one of the camera ladies. "It's very nice to meet all of you. Hopefully I'll be here long enough to give you nicknames." You joked, and they all smiled at you. Before anyone could say another word, you heard a voice behind you booming from the entrance.

"Guys, did you see that e30 outside? It's gorgeous!" The boy with curly brown hair that flopped around as he walked closer to the group kept looking back at your car until he lost sight of it. The guys' faces seemed to lighten up even more when the boy mentioned the car and they all scurried to see it for themselves, all rambling on about not having seen one in a long time. Your felt Ria's arm go around your shoulders as the boy eventually walked up to you guys.

"Lando, how nice of you to join us today!" You could hear the sarcasm coming from Ria and you couldn't hide your smile from her tone. "Hello to you Ria." He greeted Ria with a fake smile and she mocked right back. He then moved his attention to you, the woman standing next to one of his best friends. Lando couldn't help but quickly study your face before he could formally introduce himself. The way the sun from the warehouse skylight shone on you made it seem as if you were an angel who had just descended from heaven. Your dark brown eyes were an infinite pool to get lost into and he noticed how the small eyelash extensions suited your face so much. Your lipgloss was basically calling his name for him to get a taste but he did not want to seem forward.

He knew he would have work hard in order to be with someone as majestic as you and you two have barely met. "Hi, I'm Lando." He shakily let out and he watched as your lips turned into a smile, one that revealed the tooth gem you had. "I'm Y/n, nice to meet ya." You said, keeping the eye contact between you two quite strong, well until Ria cleared her throat quite loudly next to the both of you. "Okay! Could feel it from a mile away." Ria's cheeks were basically hurting from the smile she had from seeing her two best friends slowly falling for each other.

Snapping out of the trance, you and Lando both looked at Ria with confusion. "Feel what?" You both asked simultaneously, not even thinking about her comment as the rest of the group came inside, gushing over your car. "Geez that car is beautiful! I wonder who's it is." Niran chatted. "It's mine, Glad you like it." You verbalised, seeing their faces turn to one of shock as you laughed at their reactions.

Lando was fighting to not let out a groan as he continued to observe you as you fell into conversation with the rest of the guys, earning a few belly laughs as you told a joke. He loved that you looked up into his eyes with every word you uttered. He gazed at your skin, how soft it looked and don't even get him started with your scent. The smells of vanilla mixed with a floral yet musky touch was a scent he could live with forever, wishing he would have the scent embedded into everything he owns.

"Oh, i'll be paired with Lando?" You wondered aloud and looked at the boy who was spaced out. Hearing his name brought him back to reality and he was so happy when he heard his name fall out of your lips, your voice slowly becoming one of his favourite sounds.

"And please do welcome the newest member of Quadrant, Y/n!" Lando announced and the group along with the crew behind the cameras cheered. You waved to the camera with a big smile, your tooth gem on display. "So Y/n, would you like to explain what's happening for today's video?" Max asked whilst rocking back and forth. "I would love to!" You smiled and looked at the camera. "Today, we are going to be putting our baking skills to the test by pairing up and racing around London, looking for special ingredients for each pair to make a cake that will be decorated in light of the Silverstone Grand Prix next week!" You expressed your words with such enthusiasm, making the others cheer. You had most definitely noticed Lando standing quite close to you and leaning his arm on your shoulder, making it seem as if you two had been friends for longer than the cameras can pick up.

As the others said their pieces for the intro of the video, your stomach swarmed with butterflies as you felt Lando shift his body to no longer lean on you but to rather place his arm around you. You could already see the comments that will be rolling in once this video will be released. You knew it was already going to be quite the stir to run around London for ingredients with Lando as you knew who he was so you hoped the attention would be on the topic of the video rather than you too.

"We have already established teams of two before filming thanks to the lovely game of rock paper scissors." Steve said and you couldn't help but slightly laugh because you knew it wasn't true and you had assigned partners for yourselves. Before filming, you all were handed GoPro cameras to film your adventures around London and you held it quite securely, making sure that the main camera could not see you holding the GoPro.

"Okay, so we have an hour and a half to get all the ingredients and two hours to make the cakes. The timer starts..now!" As soon as Max finished his sentence, you all scrambled to the entrance to go to your cars. "Lando, who's do we take?" You asked, turning on the small camera and looking at Lando who held your hand and guided you towards his McLaren 765LT. You tried not to look too excited around the car so you kept your internal screams to yourself. Lando had unlocked the car and opened the butterfly door for you, not even noticing that he had descretely held his hand over your head in order for you to enter the car without bumping your head on the car roof but the camera most definitely captured the footage.

Once he ignited the car, you two took off in first place with the others trailing behind you. "So where to, Mr Norris?" You asked as you securely placed the camera on the dash. Oh how Lando hoped that the editors would cut out all the blushing and flirty moments between you two because clearly there's going to be a lot of footage of that. "The only one i can really think of is Tesco in Oxford. You can have the aux by the way." He suggested, giving the aux cord to you and resorting to one hand driving as he was familiar with the area.

"It's a Thursday so I don't think it would be that full but just to be safe, we could try this supermarket in Kensington." You suggested and you could feel his eyes on you as he processed your reply. "I just took a young drive around that area a while ago and I got hungry so I stopped by to see what was there." You informed, flicking through your music as you finally picked a song that you thought he would enjoy. The sound of 'Headshots (locals)' by Isaiah Rashad blasted through the McLaren's speakers. Immediately, his head began nodding along and he watched as you sang along and danced to the music, he knew that it was going to be cut from the video because of copyright issues but he absolutely loved seeing you like this. "Okay, sorry, I had to hear that song. Let me get the gps going." You apologised and he brushed it off. "It's okay, don't worry." He said, itching to hold your hand but he did not want to cross any boundaries.

The gps showed up on the display screen of the car and showed him the quickest way to get to the supermarket without any traffic. "Do you know how to bake?" You asked, shifting your body to face his as he drove. You knew how awkward car rides with strangers were but you were determined to make him comfortable with you. "Barely, it's not one of the talents i have." He answered, making you chuckle. "So you'll push the cart around then?" You joked, turning your attention to type the ingredients into your notes app. "It's my main purpose in life to push the cart around." His face remained serious but not for long as you two began laughing.

"If it's edible, can we split it halfsies?" He proposed, putting his foot down on the gas pedal, accelerating the car to go faster. Immediately feeling the speed, you held onto anything that was close and that just happened to be Lando's large hand that wasn't on the steering wheel and the fluorescent green seatbelt around you. As you were approaching a red light, he eventually slowed down and looked at you only for him to began cackling, feeling the tears in his eyes already. "Your face!" He cracked up only for you to playfully roll your eyes at him.

"For your information Lan, that cake will be edible because of the bakery we own back home." You proudly said, smiling into the camera as he calmed down from his laughter and looked at you with a smile that made the butterflies in his stomach flutter. Lando could feel his face get warmer and his ears were most definitely red from just looking at you. Talking to you and making you laugh makes him feel like such an accomplishment to him, one that he would cherish for a long time.

Taking your attention away from the camera and onto the road, you could see the supermarket straight ahead. "Oh there it is, Lan!" You pointed it out as you entered a small neighbourhood road. It had all types of flowers and plants outside of it and it looked quite big so he was quite confident that they would find everything they needed. "What flavour should we make?" You asked as he was looking for a good parking spot and reversed parked his car. "Vanilla? Or maybe red velvet?" He shrugged his shoulders as he switched the car off and exited the car to open your door for you. He held out his hand for you in order for you to exit the car gracefully.

"Vanilla's good." You nodded as you leaned back into the car to grab the camera and your shoulder bag and oh my, did you give this man a sight to see. Although your maxi skirt covered everything from your hips to your shoes, you bending over into the car had the boy imagining things that would get him into trouble. He didn't want to think of you in such a way on the first day of meeting each other but you were so captivating to him. You, on the other hand, knew exactly what you were doing to Lando. You really could've packed your shoulder bag and the camera before getting out of the car but you just wanted to mess with him because you could feel his eyes on you every time you did anything. You never had quite the charm before so to see someone like him folding for you was something that you wanted to continue.

"Okay I got everything. Could you please hold the camera while I go get a cart?" You asked as you handed the camera to Lando who looked visibly flustered at your previous actions. Leaving him with the camera to grab the last big cart outside, he quickly closed the car door and securely locked it, rushing over to you. "Let's go to the dairy section first." He suggested and took control of the cart so that you could get the ingredients because you actually know what you're doing.

"It seems like we've all we need but we need a specific colour for the icing." Your eyebrows furrowed as you scrolled through your web browser to look for food colouring bottles. Seeing your frustration, he came over to your side but he still couldn't see it clearly. Going with the bold move, he placed his hands on the handle, hovering over you with your back nearly touching his front and his head leaning towards yours. "The one with the edible glitter that goes with it?" He asked, his voice quite low and close to your ear, feeling his hair touch the side of your forehead. Your breath hitched as you felt him this close to you, your heart skipping a beat as his scent enveloped you. You couldn't get the words out so you opted to nod. Leaning his head a bit more towards your face to take a closer look at your phone, he looked away at all the food colouring and extras that you were both standing next to and immediately spotted exactly what you were looking for.

His warmth moved away as he placed the final item into the cart. Looking at his face, he had seemed so nonchalant about what he just did and you quickly looked over at the camera that was perched up onto the cart and it captured the whole thing. You chose to switch the camera off until you got back into the car and you knew that had to be cut out. Realising that you hadn't moved from your spot, Lando came up to you with concern written all over his face. "What's-" "I don't want to end up on the gossip pages, Lan so when the cameras on, can we keep a friendly distance?" You pleaded quietly, looking around to see if anyone had noticed him. The white graphic tee, shorts and af1 combo wouldn't get him noticed but maybe he could be because of the black McLaren cap he wore backwards, an simple yet effective outfit that made your knees weak.

"And when they're off?" He voiced, coming closer to you as he looked to his side through his peripheral vision and immediately grabbed your waist for a hug. You threw your arms around his neck in confusion and looked at what had captured his attention, a few people peering into the aisle you were in with their phones recording. He hid his face into your neck, the beard scratching your skin a bit as he tried to avoid his lips touching your neck but failed, goosebumps raising as you felt his lips there. The eager group that had spotted Lando were walking into your aisle looking utterly confused as they continued to stare at the two of you. "Lan, just follow along. Hug tighter." You instructed and he did as he was told. "Oh my god! Thank you baby! I love Bora Bora so much!" You began squealing and slightly in his arms as he began swaying the two of you. You secretly switched a ring from your right hand to your left one as you watched as their smiles switched to congratulatory ones as they quickly walked past you and exited the aisle. You tapped his shoulder so that he could lift his head. "Are they gone yet?" He asked into your neck as he slowly lifted his head. "Yeah, I think it's safer you go to the car and then i'll meet you there with everything, okay?" He nodded then dug into his pocket and handed you his card from his wallet and before you could even decline the card, he held your hand and placed his card into your palm. "Don't even. When you're anywhere with me, you can't use your money." He grinned and left before you could respond, leaving you with a smile onto your face.

Closing the front trunk of his car for him, he carried the shopping bags into the warehouse which had been decorated to look like those large kitchens in reality cooking shows. You were the second pair to arrive on set with Ria and Aarav being the first ones. “You made it!” Ria exclaimed as she ran towards you and pushed Lando away even though he wasn’t necessarily in your way. It was a quick hug then she pulled you to the side with Lando putting the items onto one of the kitchen sets.

“Babe, you have to tell me everything that happened.” Ria whispered with the most teasing smile on her face. “Ria, why are you assuming we have anything going on?” You lifted your eyebrow at your best friend. She gave you a look and that made you cave in. “Ugh fine, we went to a store in Kensington that I genuinely thought wouldn’t have any fans and I ‘saved’ him but that’s all I’m telling you.” You said with a cheeky smile and walked away from her as you heard her call you back. Standing next to Lando’s crouched position, you watched as he looked at the oven confused and you helped him pre heat it. He looked up at you with eyes that couldn’t hide what he thought and that gave you chills down your spine.

After a chaotic but fun three hours of baking and chasing each other around with icing, you and Lando were named the winners thanks to your amazing baking and decorating skills. Wrapping up filming, you said goodbye to everyone and thanked them for an amazing first day but Lando didn’t want to let you go just as yet so he decided to take you out for dinner just to ‘welcome you into the team’ and invite you to his home race. “But isn’t that all for friends and family? I wouldn’t want to intrude Norris.” You spoke and he shook his head as he held your soft hand. “I want my lucky charm to be there with me.” He said staring into your eyes and you broke out a smile. “Okay we’re going to have to work on your rizz but the answer is yes, I’ll go.” You giggled as he placed his head in his hands and laughed.

yourinstagram

liked by yourfriend, landonorris and 256,478 others

yourinstagram congratulations muppet 🫶🏽 (can’t believe he got me to like papaya orange but it’s okay bc he got p2)

view comments

landonorris thank you, mother of Skye 🩷

user WHO TF IS SKYE

yourinstagram my car, she’s sky blue and Lan named her

user idk how her and lando aren’t dating yet. the chemistry in that cake video??? UNMATCHED

user when she helped him with the weird fans>>>>

user when he leaned over her to look at the screen better??? i died and came back

yourinstagram you guys saw that? 😧

user girl we saw everything

lilymhe it was amazing meeting you my love! 💗

yourinstagram you too!!! see you soon 🤍

riabish papaya orange is soooo your colour 🤭

yourinstagram do you want to get me in trouble? 😭

landonorris thank you for being my lucky charm

yourinstagram ofc love 🫂

landonorris now could you please come back to the room

danielricciardo there are kids on this app????

yourinstagram Daniel shhhhhhh

f1wag_updates new wag???

yourinstagram girl 🧍🏽‍♀️

user so he’s no longer Lando No rizz?

user seems like he’s always had the rizz 😋

landonorris woah hey are you free Friday bc i’m free Friday?

yourinstagram yes i am 😚

#formula one x black reader #x black fem reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula one x reader #x black reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 imagines #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris x black reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x oc #Spotify

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greennlin · 8 months

Text

pinky promise ?!!

ft ! : xiao , kazuha , ningguang , kaeya , jean

in ! : promises they make, and do they keep them ?

a / n : gender neutral reader as always. trying to set a good schedule and not post too, too much, but if i don't immediately write, i just can't.

fluff or angst, it's a russian roulette 🩷

XIAO PROMISES ...

... that he will always be there. he doesn't say it outright, but it's a pledge he holds himself to. be that when you call, or when you silently long for him in your heart, he will do the best he can for you. over the course of his mostly unchanging life, he will definitely keep that promise. your happiness, of course, is a priority to him. that priority comes only second to your safety. as soon as he thinks that you are in danger because of him, he will leave. but even as you move on, he does not, still keeping his promise to watch over you, always.

KAZUHA VOWS ...

... always to come back. long days in ritou are spent thinking about him and his safety at sea, and when he will ever come back. the crux crew sets sail every few months, but each time doesn't get any easier. kissing you one last time before he leaves, he always promises that he'll come back. you believe him, of course. you believe him, until the months he is absent turn into years. waiting at the dock for his arrival, he must have encountered a delay, right? he couldn't have broken his promise to you. he couldn't be... gone ... right?

NINGGUANG COMMITS ...

... to providing you a life of utmost luxury. what is the worth of all her wealth if she cannot provide for the one she loves the most? the tianquan showers you in gifts every day, each one more ravishing than the next. if you protest, she'll simply find ways to slip past your words, offering excuses for her purchases. even as you sigh and make her promise to cut back on the amount she's spending, she's already made the opposite promise to herself! but, she does eventually spend a little bit less on the gifts offered to you. keyword: a little.

KAEYA ASSURES YOU ...

... that you're his star. his shining light guiding you through the night that is his life. there is nothing in life more important than you, he says. he lies. you see him at the bar through the window whenever you pass by, laughing with someone else. you rarely get to see the calvary captain you were once proud to call your lover. now, he spends the days shut in his office, and the nights in the tavern. if what he says is true, and you really are the star in his life, then the traveller is the sun, outshining you in every way single way.

JEAN SWEARS ...

... that she'll take it easy. you're her lover, your words mean the world to her, they aren't just something she'll brush off. if you tell her to lighten her load she will try- albeit begrudgingly. slowly but surely, she learns how to fall back onto others. jean hasn't felt relaxation in a long while, the pressure on her always requiring her to be perfect. but with you, the stress of everything vanishes. supporting her from the sidelines and on the front, you're her everything, there is nothing else she could wish for.

reblogs appreciated! .. greennlin 2023

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rinstagrams · 7 months

Text

seeing you tonight... it's a bad idea, right? content: ex!gojo x reader, language, suggestive (16+), mentions of sex w/c: 1.4k

♬ bad idea, right? by olivia rodrigo.

“hey, shoko invited us over for drinks and gossip.”

you hardly hear what utahime suggested, too busy typing away on your phone. your eyebrows furrow at the latest text sent, nearly outright ignoring your coworker and friend. “can’t,” you say after a moment’s pause. “plans.”

it’s not very often that you and utahime get sent out on missions together, let alone in tokyo. she hardly gets away from her teacher work in kyoto, but the curse you’d been sent to exorcise today in tokyo was perfect for her technique and yours. since the trip back to kyoto is a bit long, you’ve both opted to stay the night. it’s pretty standard that you would stay with shoko on a night in tokyo. but recently…

utahime raises an eyebrow at you curiously, standing behind you to peek over your shoulder at your phone. “plans?”

“yeah,” you say, clearing your throat. “i have something to do.”

“i think you mean someone to do.”

“what? hey!” you exclaim, trying to sound indignant. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“oh, so gojo didn’t just send you his new address?”

“stop snooping!” you say, locking your phone and holding it close to your chest out of view. the look utahime gives you, however, is unavoidable. damn her and that damn teacher look of hers. you sigh, shoulders deflating. “i really don’t wanna hear a lecture right now. can you save it for the train ride back?”

“i’m not gonna lecture you.” but the look she gives is really enough to have you feeling like a scolded child. “but i thought after last time, you said you were done with him.”

“i know he’s my ex,” you say, picking at your nail. “but can’t two people reconnect?”

since your break-up a year ago, you and gojo have avoided each other at all sorcerer events. it’s kind of funny, seeing the lengths the two of you will go to avoid each other. but nonetheless, in the end, you always find yourself with him in tokyo behind closed doors. up until now, you thought you’d done pretty well at keeping it a secret… guess not.

“you don’t reconnect with gojo satoru of all people. i still can’t believe you dated him, he’s a selfish prick.” that much is true, you think to yourself. but despite how self-involved and cocky he might be to everyone else, he’s… not so selfish in bed, to say the least. “he’s not even that hot.”

“i’ve seen hotter,” you hope that maybe agreeing with her in hating gojo will lighten the load on you. instead, she narrows her eyes at you and says, “you’re not getting back together, are you? because i’ll slap some sense into you right now.”

“i only see him as a friend.” biggest lie you’ve ever said.

utahime actually snorts, very uncharacteristic of her. “sure, sweetie. let’s see how you feel after a glass of wine and a lay with gojo satoru.” you groan and shake your head, refusing to admit to yourself the truth of his words.

“nothing will happen.”

“yeah, sure,” she says, completely disbelieving of you. “and what’ll be your excuse when you wake up in his bed?”

you bite the inside of your cheek. “tripped and fell.”

when you pull up to gojo’s new building, a penthouse on the top floor of a tall apartment complex, you’re not surprised at the text that tells you to just come on up. stupid satoru, not even bothering to walk you up.

he’s stupid, rude, and hardly chivalrous. you know that this is a bad idea, and you’ll probably regret it in a few days when the mortification settles in, but for now, who cares?

you don’t even knock, because satoru already has the door open. he leans his tall figure against it, arms crossed over his broad chest wearing a smile on his face. his hair is a little disheveled, glasses hanging low on his nose, and you can already smell the familiar scent that tells you he just had a shower.

“satoru.” you remember your words with utahime earlier. you’re sure you’ve seen much better looking men than this white, gangly string bean, but for some reason, you can’t really remember when.

“hey, beautiful. mission went okay?” the care in his voice makes you remember the way he used to fuss over you when you were dating. you roll your neck out, nodding. “yeah,” you tell him. “neck hurts like a bitch, though.”

“let me help you with that,” he says, stepping aside to let you in. you place your stuff down and already as the door shuts, satoru brushes your hair to one shoulder. quickly, his hands work on your shoulders to massage the small knots out from your muscles, even without you asking. it feels good; for someone whose technique revolves around not touching people, he’s still surprisingly good at massages.

“thanks,” you say, voice soft.

“anything for you. you worked hard.” his voice is low, and after a few moments, you feel soft kisses pressed to the back of your neck. on your jaw. down your shoulders. you nearly shiver beneath his touch.

“seriously, satoru? straight to it, huh. i can’t shower, first?” you laugh, voice a little breathless as he brushes his tongue over your sweet spot on your neck.

“i figured we could do a second round in the shower.”

you laugh and close your eyes, relaxing into his touch as his hand comes around to pop open the button on your jeans. your last thought before you give in is, here we go again.

you wake up in the morning to the light shining in through the windows, but also to the buzzing of your phone. as you rub the sleep from your eyes, you curse. shit. four missed calls from utahime. she’s so gonna kill you at the train station.

stifling a yawn, you start to shuffle in bed, standing to gather your clothes. before you can swing your legs over the bed however, you feel a tug by the waist. over your hips, satoru has a strong arm to pull you back in. a sleepy groan leaves him. “don’t leave,” he whines like a kid.

“i have to go back to kyoto,” you tell him, trying to tug yourself free to no avail.

“stay.” a strong pull drags you back to bed with him, and your back is pressed smugly to his chest. his chin hooks on your shoulder and you feel him poking at the back of your thigh. “i’ll teleport you back later.”

“satoru,” you say, tone chastising. “i really don’t have time for a morning quickie.”

behind you, he sighs. the mood seems to have dropped now, his playful childish tone now gone from seconds ago. “i’m not talking about sex. i just want you to stay. i’ll make you breakfast.”

“you know that’s not what we do. we agreed that when we were gonna do this, it wasn’t gonna be like before.” before, when you were dating. before, when you had so many problems that couldn’t be solved with just sex. now, at least you can still have the sex without the relationship baggage.

“i miss you.”

a sigh leaves you, and you turn to face him, his arm still around you. when you meet his eyes, they’re no longer sleepy, but serious. “satoru,” you call his name, sounding serious. “you shouldn’t say those things.”

“but i do. miss you, i mean.” he sighs. “i miss seeing you more than just every few months for a fuck. i wanna see you in the mornings, and on the weekends.”

all you can do is sigh. he goes on, “we were good, weren’t we? i miss you, and i know you miss me too. i wish we could give it another try. i’m not just saying it because of last night, but… i’ll be better. i’ll really try. i’ll come every weekend, we can go on dates all the time. i’ll be less annoying.”

“that might be hard for you,” you mutter. it’s an insult, but it shows to him that you’re beginning to open up to it, and that brings a smile to his face. a beautiful one, his blue eyes filled with mirth and not obstructed by glasses or a blindfold.

“and you’ll work on not being mean to me, right? we’ll be good together. will you give me a second chance?”

the two of you never worked out, and you know that for yourself. you know the problems behind it all, but what a fool you were to think you could be satisfied with just this. the two of you butt heads always, but maybe it’s worth it for moments like these. it’s a bad idea but… you’ve never been fond of good ideas.

a heavy breath leaves you, but you can’t hold back the smile. “okay.” he grins, and it’s wonderful. oh, utahime’s going to kill you.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #i'm soooo into this man and i just had to write jjk x guts #i need him so bad!! you don't understand!!

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gimme-tea-bitch · 1 year

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The Kiss and All Their Growth

Holy shit what a day it has been, the bees kiss has left me rambling like a madman and spending half my shift in a stupor.

But, a friend of mine let me ramble in her DM’s about this scene and now I wanted to do a rough run down of the ways their confession hit on so many major points of trauma for the both of them, so get ready for a run down!

Starting with the way that Yang asks Blake if she’s okay, Yang in just as much danger, just as stuck and checking in with Blake, and Blake on the other hand “I’ll feel a lot better, when we’re together on that platform.” which just is such a perfect example of exactly the things that they’re about to say to each other. Yang being brave, caring, Blake knowing what she wants, Yang.

And then Yang, not getting anywhere, defaults to supporting Blake. Trusting that Blake will figure out the puzzle here, because she’s smart, which Yang says in her trusty dorky humor, lightening the mood on top of lifting up Blake.

And then Yang with that loud ass “You have cat ears” and the doofy smile, and holy shit I only just noticed but one of Blake’s ears literally flicks toward Yang after that line. But then Yang much gentler saying “I think your cat ears are cute.” Because she’s not trying to lighten the mood this time, this one’s real.

And then when Blake figures out what it is, saying thing’s they’ve never said, Yang defers to her, she doesn’t do the expected thing of saying a silly line, she gives Blake the room so to speak. Immediately trusting Blake’s judgement here and maybe more importantly, letting Blake set the bar for just how deep this would be.

And this is where it starts fucking me up, Blake’s start is an immediate shot through the heart. “I think you’re an extraordinary person.” We see Yang’s face go from her usual playful smirk to genuine surprise. And it reminds me so much of Yang’s answer to Oobleck back in Volume 2. Yang heard what her team’s goals were and she found herself lacking. Ruby wanted to be the hero who saved people, Weiss wanted to bring back the honor of her family, Blake wanted to help her people, and Yang, Yang wasn’t any of that, she didn’t have a noble goal, she was, just Yang. For Blake, someone that Yang has admired and loved for so long to say that she’s extraordinary. It runs so counter to how she’s always seen herself.

And Blake keeps going, “always the first to lighten a situation, you act bravely when you’re afraid.” Two more huge points. Because this is who Yang has always been. The jokes and the bravado, it’s a nice mask to hide behind but these traits Blake points out, is possibly the first time anyone in Yang’s life has ever actually seen her. When Summer died, when Raven left, when Tai fell apart. It was just her and Ruby, and what did Yang do? She put on a brave face, she made jokes and played games, and filled Ruby’s life with as many moments of joy as she could. Because Ruby deserved a happy childhood. Because Yang is above all else, brave and kind. And then Blake finished with “you do what you say.” and this one is personal to her especially. Blake who’s been manipulated and deceived so many times, for some many years by someone she thought she could trust. And this time, Yang is what Blake thought Adam might be at the start. All those ideals and manipulations he used to make himself look better than he was. Yang just is all of those things.

And then, as others have pointed out, Blake’s “Try to keep up!” doing for Yang what Yang always does for others. Lightening Yang’s load this time.

Yang’s response “I like that you’ve never been intimidated by me.” Yang who’s always been too, who obscures piece of herself almost instinctively. Who’s had so much anger in her that it feels like too much. Not with Blake, never with Blake. Blake who’s seen Yang truly get angry, and still trusts her, isn’t afraid because she knows Yang. Even in the emerald forest. And then Yang bringing up how Blake doesn’t give up. Blake who spent so much time hating herself for running, being a coward. And Yang who even at the beginning said things like “you’re not one to back down from a challenge.” Because even when Blake was still so scarred by her trauma, Yang saw who she really was, someone who doesn’t give up. “You know what matters to you.” and god just, the way that Yang is so spot on but so blind, that she doesn’t see how what matters most to Blake now, is her.

And it’s insane to me because Yang has spent her whole life putting herself last. Always putting those around her in front because they’re all incredible and she’s just Yang. She never saw that Blake picked her in the Emerald Forest, that Blake carried her through the ruins of Beacon, that Blake was so sorry that Yang got injured. She didn’t see what a broken down mess Blake became after.

And then they stare at each other so lovingly, so tenderly, god it makes me insane. And Yang is so scared. Yang’s so used to acting when she’s scared, but that’s always been in times of danger, not with her emotions. She’s spent her whole life bottling those up and locking them away so no one can see the deepest parts of her.

And then the way that CRWBY so perfectly gave Blake the initiative, but had Blake use to nudge Yang to finally say what she feels, for Yang to finally let her wants and hopes be spoken, to not have to hide herself anymore. And Yang still so terrified “I think i’m in love with you.” Saying it like she’s giving Blake an out, like she can back out of these feelings or something. And it’s crazy cuz it’s Yang saying what she feels but not pushing, never pushing. Blake who’s spent so many years being pushed around and controlled and told what to do. And Yang who has never ever pushed her, never forced her to do things she doesn’t want to or be someone she doesn’t want to be, even now, even when all Yang wants is Blake, she still refuses to push any of it on Blake. And Blake, fuck, Blake knowing, knowing how terrified Yang is, how even now Yang is still so patient, so held back, saying “I love you too” almost before Yang’s even finished. Because she doesn’t want to give Yang even a second, not even a fraction of a moment to think that Blake might not love her back.

Yang’s stunned because how could this be real. Yang who’s spent her whole life being left behind, finally finding someone who wants her just as badly and she wants them. They lean in and you can see on Yang’s face how she’s still so stunned, but every motion makes it more and more real and then they’re kissing, and they’re so close together and Yang pulls her closer because it’s not close enough and GOD I’M INSANE ABOUT THEM!

But yeah, that’s all I got, i’m sure there’s plenty of things i’m forgetting that also apply in this scene, but just, so many parts of this confession and kiss reminded me of their past and how much they’ve grown since then and I couldn’t help but point them out. Thank you for reading!

#rwby #rwby spoilers #bumbleby #meta #?

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spanktony · 1 month

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“YOU TOOK A BULLET FOR ME…” - rosita espinosa

summary: you take a bullet for her.

words: 800+

warnings: gun/gunshot, near death experience, and that’s all i believe.

notes: posting this as i try my hardest to get out of writers block & answer my requests! also lost the request to this ☹️

navigation. request.

You had found yourself in Negan's group, the Saviors. You didn't exactly like what you did—taking raids on random communities—but you understood that it was necessary for your survival in this post-apocalyptic world.

Negan knew you since you were a teenager, and he saw potential in you. He believed that you had what it took to be a valuable member of his group, and he made sure to keep a close eye on your progress. Which is exactly why you joined him on a hot afternoon to seize supplies from a new community called "Alexandria."

"Remember, kid," Negan sneered, his barbed-wire-covered baseball bat, Lucille, resting on his shoulder. "We're here to take, not make friends." Negan said, exiting the truck. You quickly nod, following behind him as you both approach the gates of Alexandria.

The gates were opened quickly, and everyone began to take supplies from the community, loading them into the back of the truck. You watched the chaos unfold, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. Deep down, you knew that this was not the kind of person you wanted to become, but what choice did you have?

You help one of your fellow group members load a crate of food into the truck, trying to push away your conflicting emotions. Dwight walks up to you, "See that car over there? I think they might be holding something in there, check for me."

You nod, making your way over to the car. A woman in an olive-green top stands in front of the trunk of the car. You send a slight smile, wiping your forehead of sweat as you approach her.

"Mind moving?" You ask politely, gesturing towards the trunk of the car. The woman gives you a suspicious look before reluctantly stepping aside. As you open the trunk, you can't help but wonder what you might find inside.

The trunk is filled with guns, ammunition, and various other weapons. You glance at Negan and Dwight, occupied with taking other supplies from someone else. You take a deep breath, grapping some of the weapons. The woman is watching you with an upset look on her face.

You leave a few of the weapons behind, not wanting to take everything. You turn to the woman, "Maybe next time hide in a better spot," you suggest, trying to lighten the tension.

The woman's expression softens slightly, but she remains silent.

That was the first time you met Rosita, the next couple of times you saw her, she kept that same guarded expression. It became clear that she was still wary of you, despite your attempts to ease the tension. Nonetheless, you still continued to make small talk with her, hoping to gradually build trust and establish a connection.

You shared stories of your own experiences and asked her about her interests, trying to find common ground. Slowly, Rosita began to open up, sharing snippets of her life and even cracking a smile from time to time. It was a slow process, but you were determined to break through the walls she had built around herself.

As the days turned into weeks, your conversations became more meaningful and genuine, and you could sense a growing bond between the two of you.

Just as your group was leaving, one of your members got into an argument with Rosita, and she didn't look like she was backing down anytime soon. Instead of letting the situation escalate, you walked over to the two, attempting to mediate and diffuse the tension.

But your group member acted too quickly, pulling out a weapon and pointing it at Rosita. You immediately stepped in front of the gun. A loud sound rang out as you felt a sharp and hot pain in your chest.

You fell to the ground, gasping for breath and clutching your chest in agony. Ringing and Rosita's voice calling for help filled your ears, but your vision started to blur as darkness closed in.

Days blurred together as you drifted in and out of consciousness. When you finally awoke, you found yourself in a small, makeshift infirmary. The harsh, sterile scent of antiseptics filled the air, and you realized you were no longer with the Saviors.

Rosita sat at your bedside, her eyes filled with relief as she saw you awake. "You took a bullet for me," she said softly, her voice tinged with disbelief.

You managed a weak smile, wincing at the pain. "I guess I did." You glanced around the room, noticing the bandages wrapped tightly around your torso. "How long have I been out?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

Rosita's expression softened as she replied, "Almost a week." Shit.

"How am I supposed to get back to my group?" You thought aloud, concern etched on your face. Rosita's eyes flickered with worry as she responded, "You can't go back to Negan after what happened. It's too dangerous."

You sighed, realizing the gravity of the situation. "I know," you murmured, a sense of uncertainty creeping in. "But what else am I supposed to do? I doubt your group would be willing to take me in permanently."

Rosita's expression softened as she reached out to touch your arm gently. "I'll convince them. For now, relax." You nodded, grateful for Rosita's support. "Thank you," you whispered.

#spanktony #tonyspank #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead #twd x reader #twd rosita #rosita espinosa x reader #rosita x reader #rosita espinosa imagine #rosita espinosa #thewalkingdead #gender neutral reader

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icyg4l · 2 months

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Pick-An-Icon: How can you show up for your ancestors during Black History Month?

(Left-to-Right: Pile 1, Pile 2, Pile 3)

In honor of Black History Month, I wanted to start a Pick-A-Card series dedicated to Black Americans. I want to highlight icons in our community while simultaneously offering advice for any Black Americans who seek guidance about how to honor their heritage. If you're a Black American and you're reading this, this is for YOU! With the usage of the special Hoodoo Tarot deck, I will present you with ways to honor your ancestors. If you read this and enjoy and/or resonate with the reading, I encourage you to book with me! Thank you in advance!

Pile 1: Cards Used - Eight of Knives, Railroad Bill, Three of Baskets, Nine of Baskets, Two of Baskets, Nine of Knives, Gullah Jack and John Horse.

Affirmation: It is easy for me to take control of my narrative.

If you chose the image of Chaka Khan, then you resonate with her feisty, raw energy. This pile is for the creatives who are unsure of their talents. Your ancestors want you to know that there is more than one way to skin a cat. Introduce original ideas to the forefront. One way you can honor them is by not allowing time to limit your abilities. You put in so much work only to feel limited by a man-made construct. It doesn’t matter how old or young you are, you will always have time! Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. I channeled this old interview of Prince saying how he doesn't celebrate birthdays because it keeps him younger. Take on that carefree mindset of not applying the norm to your life. Your time is now! Another way that you can honor your ancestors is by setting up an altar. I get the sense that this pile is very secretive with their spiritual practices. Adorn your altar with foods, drinks, jewelry and other belongings of this loved one. They will appreciate it dearly. If you've lost someone recently, my condolences. But definitely keep in touch with them. I get the feeling that this is a young man, like an older cousin or brother. Keep the memories of you two alive so that he can peacefully cross over into the afterlife. Lastly, being a class act is a great way to honor your ancestors. Refusing to sit back and allow injustices to happen will make your ancestors proud. You have a voice! Use it! Organizing protests, sit-ins, even crowdfunding will make your ancestors proud. Combatting the capitalistic nature of society by collaborating with those in your community will hep you get in touch with your ancestral roots. You're naturally a giver, I can tell.

Pile 2: Cards Used - Nine of Knives, Two of Coins, Five of Sticks, Strength, Daughter of Knives, Aunt Caroline, Ten of Sticks, Six of Knives, The Garden and Seven of Coins.

Affirmation: I deserve to move through life with ease.

Hello, Pile 2. Off rip, I get the feeling that this is my pile of overachievers. I also believe that this is the pile that people who identify as LGBTQIA+. You resonate with the energy of Lauryn Hill's mysterious, intellectual nature. Why do you feel the need to carry so many burdens, Pile 2? One way to honor your ancestors is to lighten your load. They see that you struggle so much because of the amount of responsibilities that you carry. They had to go through similar things and they do want to witness their struggles in your lifetime. Ask for help, please. If you do not ask for help, then you will implode and we want to avoid that as much as possible, yes? You do not have to be the strongest in the room. Who are you trying to prove yourself to? It would be best that this pile talks to a mental health professional to receive guidance and proper medical treatment. Another way that you can honor your ancestors is by blowing off steam. Let your emotions flow. Slam the doors. Scream in pillows. Remove the mask and don't allow your emotions to consume you. You are allowed to be angry, my love. You have a lot to be angry about. Finally, the last way that you can honor your ancestors is to explore. You put in so much work, it's only right you get rewarded for it. Book that spa day. Go get a mani-pedi. Take the weekend off and go into hiding, you deserve it. Go somewhere you haven't been before. Your ancestors want you to relax and wind down.

Pile 3: Cards Used - Ten of Coins, Father Simms, Mother of Knives, Four of Coins, Dr. Grant, Six of Sticks, Six of Baskets, Six of Knives, Nine of Knives, Miss Robinson and Five of Coins.

Affirmation: I am doing perfectly fine in the present moment.

Alright Pile 3. You choose the image of Donna Summer, which means you resonate with her sultry, bold personality. This pile already has a close relationship with their family/ancestors, specifically the maternal side. To honor your ancestors, you must keep it this way. Learn about the traditions of your maternal side. Preserve recipes, photos and jewelry of your maternal side. And most importantly, gatekeep these things! You don’t have to share everything with everyone! Some people who choose this pile will have ties to Houston, Texas or currently live there. If you’re thinking about moving there, you should! It will help you mature. Another way that you can honor your ancestors is to receive compliments of comparison to a family member of yours well. You may not like it, but it shows your ancestors that you have respect for their features and/or personality. If you look like Aunt Linda or Uncle Jermaine, then that’s absolutely fine! Don’t deny it! Embrace it! Lastly, don’t let money consume you! I channeled the scene at the end of Players Club where Diamond visits Ebony at her new job in the shoe store. Diamond tells Ebony to “make that money, girl but don’t let it make you.” You don’t have to keep up with the latest fashion trends. You don’t have to have a job in tech or have a “lazy” desk job. It is perfectly fine to work at McDonald’s or work in retail. You’re making an honest living and that’s all that matters. Accept things as they are. Your ancestors made something out of nothing, and so can you. They are proud of you! Keep going.

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becauseicantthinkwritings · 1 year

Text

Teeth

Part 12

Masterlist

Warnings: nothing, not a damn thing 🤭

There's a near painful casualness to the joyful way you greet him in the morning.

Standing by his car, arms crossed, his impassive expression seems to lighten when he catches sight of you leaving your apartment.

"Hey Billy!" You say, noting the subtle way his hands flex when he reaches for your door, opening it for you.

He says your name in return, a low sound, that goes straight down to your toes and back up before stopping in your chest.

You smile, thanking him as you duck into the passenger seat of his car, automatically pulling on your seatbelt.

You're vibrating with excitement, maybe too much, the knowledge that he touched himself while watching you gives you a power you didn't know you craved until now.

"I hope your night wasn't too bad." You knowingly tease, watching him swallow as he begins driving.

"It was actually pretty decent," he murmurs, eyes fixed forward, focused on the road, "Though, one of my neighbors gave me quite an eyeful."

You already have your response locked and loaded.

"Oh no," you murmur with false sympathy, "Must have been quite a shock."

"It was."

You hum, nodding your head.

"I guess, that's kind of a consequence of having neighbors." You turn to eye him, "Sometimes you just see things."

He spares you a glance, your expression calm and polite, as if you didn't touch yourself with your curtains open for him to see last night.

"Maybe you're right." He concedes.

"Of course I am."

He smiles.

"How have you two not fucked yet." Dani says, deep in thought.

"I don't knooooow." You whine, flopping onto your couch with a huff.

After thinking for a moment, you speak.

"Maybe he just doesn't like me." Your voice is muffled in the couch but she hears you anyway.

"We're not looking at this the right way." Dani suddenly says, which makes you raise your head curiously.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, when he first offered you the job, didn't you specifically say that you wouldn't take the job if he wanted to fuck you?"

You groan, burying your head back into your couch.

Was this what it had come to? Your own words being thrown back at you?

"Yes." You answer.

"So what if this is just him doing what you asked."

You let out another frustrated sound.

"You're telling me that I'm the reason I'm not getting fucked senseless right now?"

"...Yes?" Dani says, a little chuckle escaping her when she sees you wriggle angrily on the couch.

"What do I doooooo." You fake cry, raising your head to give Dani your best sad face.

She leans forward, a brightness in her eyes, that gets your undivided attention.

"Here are your options, one, turn up the heat, flirt with him, wear prettier clothes, make him notice you. Option two, get him jealous, turn your attention on someone else and then see if he tries harder to keep you close. Lastly," She leans back, steeples her fingers like the mastermind she is, "forget about him and maybe actually move on because there is a possibility that he's just not that into you."

You groan in frustration.

You didn't like any of those options, wearing nicer things meant being noticed by not only Billy, but other people too. Making him jealous implied that you had to be willing to get to know another person, which you were not.

And forgetting about him? Is probably what you should have done from the start.

"Can't I just parade naked in front of my windows for the foreseeable future?" You ask, watching as Dani's focused expression morphs into a grin.

"You could, but I doubt it would get you fucked."

You swallow.

"What makes you say that?"

"Because you would have been fucked by now."

Oh, how you hated when she was right.

"I overslept I'm so sorry." Is what you say to Billy when he sees you, rushing out of your aparment building. You do look slightly disheveled, as if you didn't have time to smooth your look into perfection like you usually do.

He smiles, opening his car door for you as usual, and listening to the breathless way you thank him.

When he gets into the car, he can still hear your overzealous breathing.

"You're alright," he tries to reassure you, "It's okay to be a few minutes late."

"Sorry, I just- I'm sorry if you were waiting long."

"It's okay, no need to apologize." He finishes, turning on his indicator so he can pull out onto the street.

"Do you mind- is it okay if I finish doing my makeup?" You ask, he can hear the worry still laced in your voice.

"Yes, of course," he says, keeping his voice even, trying to soothe you.

You breathe another word of thanks before pulling out your mascara from your bag.

Billy fights the urge to watch, with rapt facination. He finds the idea of it intriguing. He's curious to see your little routine, wonders how much it would differ from his own.

He quietly loves the domesticity of it all, him driving to work while you feel comfortable enough around him to apply your makeup.

At a traffic light, he can't resist turning to look at you.

You glance back, touching up your mascara before closing it.

"What?" You ask, rummaging in your bag for something else.

You're beautiful, he wants to say, with and without makeup.

Out loud he says,

"I'm just fascinated by the process."

You smile at him.

His heart stops when you pull out a tube of red lipstick.

It's not just red, red is an understatement. It's crimson, it's burgundy, it's the colour of spilt blood on fresh snow.

He swallows as you swipe the wand over the pout of your lips.

When someone blares their horn, he turns his head back to the road, driving off when he realises the lights have turned green.

He tries not to look, worries he might get lost in it.

The predator stirs within him, demanding he stop torturing them both.

He takes a shuddering breath.

"Are you okay?"

He's unable to respond, eyes fixed on the road.

The beast thinks about how the shade would look smeared across your mouth.

"Billy?" You say, concern heavy in your voice.

He sighs.

"I'm fine."

He's not.

It's a fast drive to work, and he avoids looking at you the rest of the way there.

When he parks, and you get out, he's already walking away from you, heading in the direction of the basement security booth, directly opposite from the elevators.

"See you this evening." Is all he says, not even sparing you a glance back.

You huff.

An emergency conference meeting puts you in his path once more.

There's an hour till lunch, and Billy tries not to fidget as he waits patiently for you and the rest of his team to show up.

He hears you laughing with someone outside as you draw nearer to the meeting room and his mood sours further.

When he sees you, he almost wants to fucking collapse.

Your mouth draws his attention, the vibrant shade catches his eye, makes his stomach flip.

You smile at him, and he nods evenly in return, looking down at his phone, trying to distract himself from staring at you.

Your mouth is divine, he wants to lean in, press his mouth to yours, feel the desire build inside of him until it has nowhere to go but out. He wants to rub his nose against yours, he wants your lipstick smeared across his cheeks, his jaw, his neck, his chest, his cock-

"Mister Russo?"

He doesn't startle, simply moves his eyes to stare firmly at the man that dared interrupt him from his thoughts of you.

The man in question swallows.

"What do you think?"

He sucks in a deep breath.

Turning to look at you, you meet his gaze head on.

God, that's a lot of fire.

"I'm assuming you can justify your actions?" Billy says to you.

"Of course I can." You say evenly, confident, like you know exactly what you're doing and everyone else is just in the way.

"Well?"

The corner of your lip twitches, you were just playing with everyone in the room, weren't you?

You turn to look at Phil, his IT managing director.

"If I told you what I was going to do, you would have taken action to stop me. Even indirectly, sometimes just the knowledge of a potential security breach would put you on edge, which puts your team on edge. The best attack is one done unexpectedly."

Phil shakes his head.

"You're the person designing the system, you work here, of course you're going to understand how to get around our protocols."

You pause for a moment, looking right at Phil, who, to Billy's credit, doesn't show any outward expression, despite the scent of intimidation rolling off of him.

You're playing with him, and you look so much like a predator in this moment that Billy feels his heart swell.

"It sounds to me, that you're making the assumption that security breaches are only ever going to come from people who lack the skills to beat the system. And while, sure, majority may not have the skill, we need to consider the possibility that one day, someone might."

Phil is unable to form a rebuttal, and after a minute he mutters.

"Someone should at least know when you plan to rip into the same system you design."

You nod, clicking your pen and pulling out your notepad to write something down.

"Noted. I'll send Mr. Russo a heads up."

Phil turns to look at him, and Billy feels the need to placate both parties.

"Not to worry, I understand the systems are still being set up and understood. Hopefully, we come out of this stronger."

He nods at both of you, feels a little bit more proud of what he's building.

"Have a good lunch." Phil bids, before walking out of the conference room.

You reel on him as soon as the door clicks shut, eyes full of passion that it startles him.

"Holy fucking shit Billy I just came up with the best fucking idea."

He stares at your animated form for a second, before he can't contain his humour, tilting his head back and laughing.

"There's no time for laughing, Russo! Get it together- look-" You move across to his side of the table, right into his space and drops your little notepad into the spot in front of him.

He squints, but your passionate handwriting makes zero sense.

"Did you make a note to tell me before you try to break into my system?"

He looks at you, your expression moves from one of excitement to confusion.

"What? No- fuck that- I mean, respectfully, sure I'll warn you but-" You glance down at the notepad, while he continues to just look at you.

"I've been thinking about it for a while, what if someone really good tries to hack the system? Better than me I mean."

Billy is seriously doubting at this point that there is anyone better than you.

"If we make it look like it's reasonably difficult, someone trying to get access won't question it. Someone smarter, will just think that we lack the brain power for a sophisticated system."

His eyes draw to your mouth, he's trying hard to focus but some of his essential blood supply is currently making his cock swell.

"So you're suggesting, we offer a fake room full of information to hide the real room?"

"Yesssss," You hiss happily, looking down before tapping your pen to your mouth.

The universe has no mercy for him, he watches the pen smudge your lipstick.

It's beyond him, he can't stop himself, his hands reach up to cup either side of your face.

You make a little sound of surprise, being distracted from your complicated thought processes, suddenly focused on him.

Your eyes are wide, and fixed right on him. He takes pleasure in that, wants your focus on him, and him alone.

His hands are warm, as usual, holding your face gently as he looks at you.

Was this it? Was he going to kiss you?

He sighs, takes a step closer so that your bodies are right against each others.

Your stomach flips, you almost want to beg.

"This colour is beautiful on you." He murmurs finally, his thumb reaching out to swipe gently at the edge of your bottom lip.

Your breath catches, you think about taking his thumb into your mouth.

Your brain stalls as you stare at him.

He tilts his head, smiles, deep in thought.

"What do we say?"

"What?"

"When someone gives a compliment, what do we say?"

"Th- thank you." You stutter out.

Ever patient, he nods.

"Good girl."

Your mouth parts in shock.

He pulls his hands away, taking a step back.

"Enjoy your lunch." He bids, before leaving you alone in the conference room with parted lips and damp underwear.

You lie in bed, staring up at the ceiling, fingers curled around your necklace, deep in thought.

You wonder who the panther is, wondering if you knew them at all.

You try to turn it over in your head but there's too many things you don't know, and not enough information.

You don't even know where to start looking for this information, searches online giving no real help beyond the realm of fantasy.

But this wasn't fantasy anymore, shapeshifters were real, a fact.

It made the world that much more dangerous.

Or maybe not, considering that most of your troubles had come from human roots anyway.

You sigh, rolling over, and sucking in a deep breath when you come face to face with the panther.

You raise your head, looking around.

Had you fallen asleep?

The panther hums to get your attention, leaning in until the top of his head brushes your cheek.

"Hey kitty." You greet softly, hearing the rough purring start up as the panther settles its body next to yours.

You sigh softly, pressing your face into his fur, giving his ear a little kiss, and feeling it flick gently.

His tail smacks against your knee as it waves in a haphazard direction.

You smile, tossing an arm over his back, sighing in bliss when you can almost feel the softness of his fur like he's really here with you.

You lay like that for a bit, on your side, curled against the panther when suddenly a human hand reaches for you.

It grips your jaw, turns your head up and away from the panther.

Billy, with warm fingers and a gentle smile, doesn't hesitate to lay his mouth across yours.

You groan, pressing your head up and firmer against his mouth, desperate for a taste of him.

He pulls back for a moment, before giving you another quick kiss and he's gone, leaving you tucked against the panther for the rest of the night.

You wake up in the morning, curled around a pile of your pillows, disoriented, looking around for your panther before the realisation hits you, that you'd only been dreaming.

#billy russo #werepanther!billy russo #billy russo x reader #ben barnes #monster!billyrusso #monster!billy russo #billy russo x female reader #monster!billy #my writings #the punisher #billy russo smut #billy russo fic #billy russo fanfic #billy russo fanfiction

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 10 months

Text

The DUFF 13

Warnings: groping, insecurity, food and body issues, manipulation, and the usual. Proceed with caution.

Feedback is always welcome. Love you and thanks for the wonderful responses so far.♥♥♥♥

Image credit (I want to give dues where due but don’t want the creator to keep getting tagged in my posts as I have been approached by some before that they don’t want me in their notifs)

Silence compounds your castigation. Whether it’s you or Curtis who refuses to speak, you can’t really tell. You’re too afraid to go first and maybe he is too. Or maybe he’s just that pissed. That thought irks you. You haven’t done anything to deserve his anger.

You watch the lush landscape dwindle out to urban architecture. Your return to the city is both a relief and a fall to earth. Your usual dread for work is laced with a sense of excitement. You just want to reclaim some sense of normalcy.

Curtis pulls up to the curb outside your apartment. Your hand is already on the handle, ready to escape. You stop yourself as you give in to the tension.

“Thanks,” you say, “for the ride.”

“Yep, no problem,” he utters flatly.

“I, uh, I’ll see you later?”

He’s quiet, one hand on the wheel, his other arm draped against the door. He stares through the windshield. He really is upset but you can’t apologise if you don’t even know what you’ve done.

“Right, well, I should go. I’m already late.”

He sighs and bends his arm, brushing his fingers over his hair, “you need a ride to work? I can hang around…”

The weight in your chest lightens as his tone softens. You exhale, trying to scatter your addled nerves. “That’s really sweet but I’ll be fine. Go home, get some sleep, get cleaned up. I’m sure you have stuff you need to deal with.”

“I have time,” he insists.

“Really, you’ve done enough,” you pull the door handle, “see ya.”

“Yeah, see ya,” he mutters.

You get out and shut the door gently. You turn and walk up to your building without looking back. After the morning you’ve had, work will be easy as pie.

🐰

You rush into the office and nearly collapse into your chair. You untangle your bag from your arm and tuck it under the desk. You hit the button to boot your computer and catch your breath as you watch it load.

There’s three of you in the small space, tucked into cubicled desks as the partners retreat into their offices. You sign in and fan yourself with a folder. Only two hours late!

You get up as your desktop buffers and peek over at Marnie’s head, the constant tap of her typing nearly drowns out her grumbled, “morning.” You return the unemphatic greeting and stroll away. Taylor doesn’t say a word as usual as his eyes cling to his monitor.

You go into the shared kitchen and put a cup under the spout of the keurig. You open the cupboard and take out the small box marked with your name. Everyone brings their own supplies. It’s not a very friendly or cooperative environment.

You sift through and find a pod. Hazelnut. You grimace. You knew you shouldn’t have grabbed the variety pack. As you fish around for any other flavour, a pare of sole tap into the kitchen behind you. You glance up as Andy, one of the partner’s, enters with a black mug in hand.

“Oh, go ahead,” you move your cup off the tray, “I’m just looking for coffee.”

“Thanks,” he nears and grabs his own bin. It’s neatly sorted with tea and coffee, and a small pack of rice crackers. He mostly eats out with the partners or clients.

You continue your futile search. Hazelnut, hazelnut, hazelnut…

“Ooo, hazelnut. Can I interest you in a trade?” He intones as his hands rest on the sides of the box.

“You don’t even have to trade, you can have them.” You drop the pods back into the bottom.

“I got… caramel or some dark roast,” he offers. “Caramel’s a bit sweet but it was a gift.”

“Hmm, well, sure, I’ll take one of those,” you hold out a handful of pods, “keep em.”

He chuckles and lifts the box instead. You dump them in and he plucks out one of the orange pods in the other corner. “I wouldn’t mind if these one went mysteriously missing…”

You smile and thank him as you take the pod. He inserts one of the hazelnut into the machine and pushes down the lid. You wiggle your foot as you wait for his coffee to brew, trapped in another silence. Do you really need the coffee?

“Good weekend?” He cracks the icy lull.

“Uh, yeah, I… sorry I’m late.”

“I wasn’t meaning that,” he assures you, “really. I’m genuinely curious. You got caught in the storm? Must’ve been a nice getaway.”

“Uh, yeah, wasn’t really planned,” you fold your arms and lean your elbow on the counter, “me and my friends went out on Friday and then… I dunno, long weekend.”

“I’m jealous. I don’t even know the last time I went out anywhere,” he taps his fingers on the wood finish as the machine grinds, “my buddy was telling me I should. I’m a bit too old for clubs but he’s been on my ass to get out and meet someone… any tips?”

“Tips? From me?” You scoff, “barking up the wrong tree. But I definitely wouldn’t recommend a club.”

“Oh, bad experience?”

“Eh,” you tilt your head back and forth, “not really my thing. My friends are more into it.”

“Makes sense,” he nods as the last few drops spit into his cup. He slides it out and turns cautiously on his heel. “You don’t seem like the type.”

“I don’t?” You wonder as you play with the pod between your fingers.

“Nah, a woman like you, you seem classier than that.”

You can’t help a crooked expression. It’s a compliment, you think. Unexpected for sure.

“Thanks,” you take your cup and slide it across the counter, “enjoy the coffee.”

“You too,” he raises his mug and blows across the top, “and don’t work too hard.”

#curtis everett x reader #dark curtis everett #curtis everett #dark!curtis everett #snowpiercer #andy barber #defending jacob #au #drabble #series #the DUFF

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horangboosadan · 8 months

Text

HOME | CHOI SEUNGCHEOL

synopsis: a lazy morning in the life you share with choi seungcheol.

pairing: choi seungcheol x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff, established relationship, gn!reader, intentional lowercase

wc: 754

boo talks: i wrote this late on tuesday (when it was still coups birthday) so think of this as a late happy birthday and my little intro to possibly doing more than just smaus (tho probably heavy on the smaus still - they're a lot of fun).

main masterlist

love is weird. it’s complicated. it’s simple. it’s hard. it’s easy. it’s everything and nothing. all the feelings and at the same time none of them.

falling in love with choi seungcheol was easy. his laugh. his smile. his passion. it’s easy to fall in love with someone who does nothing but bring others joy, who does nothing but show exactly who he is to those around him, making sure they know he cares.

being in love with choi seungcheol was hard. the constant pounding of your heart whenever he was around. the constant amount of sweat you produced. the constant feeling deep in your stomach that you could never be certain was what everyone called butterflies, or if it was wasps―because no matter how tingly the feeling was, it hurt.

confessing to choi seungcheol was simple. despite the clammy hands, the constant biting of your lips, and the fact that it felt like your heart would simply combust, it was simple. three words that rolled of your tongue easier than you had ever anticipated. three words that felt like they lightened the load you’d had on your shoulders ever since you first realised your feelings. three words that meant everything: ‘i like you’.

dating choi seungcheol is complicated. keeping a relationship secret is always complicated, but even more so when one half of that relationship is a kpop idol. whilst the sneaking around will always bring a bit of adrenaline to any relationship, at some point it gets exhausting. not to be able to tell the world you love someone, not to be able to hold their hand whenever you like, not to be able to show them the affection they deserve at every waking moment.

but you both manage.

especially on days like today. where you don’t have work and you can lie in bed wrapped around each other for as long as you like, with the very exception of a dog that needs to be walked. thankfully, kkuma knows her owner needs his sleep when he can, or at least, needs the opportunity to not have to get up the moment he wakes.

you know he’s awake when you feel the loose arm around your waist tighten its grip, pulling you close. you don’t turn around, don’t alert him to the fact that you’re awake. you don’t react when you feel his lips against your neck, a soft peck because you know he can’t help himself. the hand around your waist caresses the skin there, rubbing soft circles that has you melt into his embrace.

the smile on your face gives you away.

“so you are awake,” he whispers.

you nod as you turn around. he kisses you the moment he can. a chaste one that lingers. “sleep well?” you ask, knowing he didn’t fall asleep until hours after you went to bed, knowing he didn't fall asleep until long after you.

“always do with you in my arms.”

“cheesy,” you say. “are you sure? i noticed you got up at some point.”

seungcheol shakes his head. “thought you were asleep?” he sighs as his head falls back to hit the pillow. “but yeah. i slept well, just maybe not a lot.”

“better than nothing, i guess.” you find his hand underneath the duvet and intertwine your fingers. “at least you can sleep today. as long as you like.”

“what time is it?”

“eleven.”

“i have to walk kkuma.”

“i’ll do it.” you smile at the expression he sends you. “but you have to actually try to sleep in the meantime.”

“will you come back here and lie with me?”

you press a kiss to his lips. “of course.”

“okay.” he closes his eyes, but the arm around your waist doesn’t let go. “don’t be gone too long.”

“i won’t.”

you don’t untangle yourself from him until you hear his breathing change. it’s always weird to notice how tired he is whenever you have mornings like this, to know that if his sleeping self wasn’t acutely aware of movement from you, he probably would’ve slept away the day.

and you would gladly let him.

you take kkuma out for an hour. seungcheol is still asleep when you get back, but maybe lighter than you thought as the moment you climb back into bed, his arms open and pull you close. his lips find your neck and he presses against it, but never once does he open his eyes.

or, not until kkuma decides to say hi to her dad with kisses.

boo talks (again)

thank you so much for reading!

#scoups #seventeen #svt x reader #scoups x reader #seventeen x reader #svt #scoups fluff

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