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nishloves · 9 months

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jelly; yuji itadori (jujutsu kaisen)

yuji itadori (jujutsu kaisen) x f! reader // fluff oneshot //

words : 1.5k // masterlist

requested by @feat-sun

hey there sunny! i sincerely hope this is upto your expectations and that you like this little oneshot which I wrote (I'm sorry that it's rather short) yuji is such a walking green flag and it was so fun to write him 😭🩷 also let's pretend that sukuna is prolly hibernating inside yuji's brain (coz i didn't know how to add his snarky remarks in the fic 🥲) also, hope it's to your liking <3

"yuji~" a small pout graced your features as you laid your head on yuji's shoulder while he gamed, too oblivious to your pout and desperation.

you just wanted cuddles and he wasn't giving you any, you understood he couldn't just turn the game off and spoil you and you didn't want to seem like someone who would deprive her boyfriend of games but you were feeling clingy and yuji not paying attention to you did slightly hurt a little.

"yuji," you reluctantly whispered in his ears as your boyfriend just hummed, "y/n, give me like fifteen minutes please, todo and I are nearly going to wipe this round off!" he announced, burying himself deeper in his video game as you pulled away from him.

you could vaguely hear todo's voice asking yuji if he can still play the round and your boyfriend immediately said a yes with so much hype that it almost made your pouty mood foul.

you realised you weren't gonna get any attention from him, so you switched to the next best thing, megumi.

you got up from your boyfriend's side and went over to megumi's room, who looked at you lazily and allowed you to come in.

"itadori annoyed you?" megumi asked as he passed you a can of coke which you happily took.

"precisely. i don't really think it's his fault though, maybe I'm just being clingy and desperate," you groaned, sipping your drink as you settled yourself on fushiguro's bed who scowled at you as he had just made his bed.

"it's not bad to want your partner's attention," megumi muttered.

"but atleast lay down like a person, not an animal," he smacked your leg as he sat on his bed's edge, thinking about how to retain his peace back and help you without offending you.

"not my fault that you're grumpy, grandpa," you muttered, nudging fushiguro with your toe as he sighed in exasperation.

and then something clicked in his brain,

"hey, you had a crush on inumaki, right?"

"mhm yes."

"how did you go from inumaki to itadori is beyond me, but why don't you hang out with him?"

"inumaki?" you asked, your eyebrows quirking up.

"yeah, you used to like him so maybe you won't leech off attention from him," he rolled his eyes as a grin embarked on your face.

maybe megumi didn't mean that it will help making yuji jealous but that's what you thought.

you suddenly got up from his bed and left the can on his bedside as megumi called after you, while you just grinned in his direction and saluted him before taking your leave.

"did i accidentally do something?" megumi whispered to him himself as he smacked his head on the bed.

you rushed towards inumaki's room, a small smile on your face as you knocked on his door.

"good morning inumaki!" you greeted as inumaki's eyes turned into crescents on your arrival.

"kelp." (greetings)

"well, yuji is busy, so i was just wondering if you would you know... like to go to the market with me? i was thinking to buy some clothes and accessories," you said, a bashful smile on your face.

"tuna mayo?" (me?)

"yes!"

"tuna tuna" (do you really trust my skills?)

"i do, and it will be more fun if I have someone with me, so please?" you asked, trying your best to seem convincing as inumaki sighed, a small smile evident on his face as he replied, "salmon." (okay)

as much as fun you were having with inumaki, it was better posting every picture you took with him on social media; a picture where you both are grinning next to each other, another where you dressed inumaki up with jewelries and a girlish hat, another where you both hid your faces beneath ridiculous masks and another which you took next to beach and the best of all, you captioned the post with "a platonic date" and inumaki commented with red hearts on it.

now amidst the outing, inumaki had himself understood the meaning behind your actions, but you were really so sweet to be around that he didn't say anything, well why should he when he was having so much fun too?

"thankyou so much, leaving my intentions aside, i really did enjoy the outing," you grinned at inumaki as he smiled at you slightly. his eyes looked away from yours to the scenery as he said, "oh salmon cod roe." (hey look here)

you whipped your head around to where inumaki was pointing and it was the prettiest sunset you had seen, pinkish sky with hues of blue still lingering, clouds framed the sun as slight wind blew on the beach, you grinned and clicked a picture of it, and then a picture of inumaki with the sunset, and then posted it too.

"salmon tuna mayo kelp roe cod," (you're really going after yuji, aren't you? even he will get jealous of that.)

"I am," you affirmed as you chuckled, a small smile on your face as you found yourself lucky for having such great friends.

"thankyou so much."

"mustard leaf." (it's okay)

now when you had returned, maki had called inumaki over for some second year discussion and your eyes fell upon megumi and then on yuji who was talking to gojo behind megumi.

another wild thought crept up to your mind as you rushed towards megumi to give him a giant bear hug almost making the poor guy fall, but as cold as megumi was he was still very tolerant of you and he still reciprocated the hug.

you could feel yuji's eyes boring into you and you could see gojo's lips quirking up as he understood just what was going on.

"thanks for the drink today megumi," you gushed as fushiguro slightly patted your head.

as soon as you pulled away from megumi you eyes landed on another pair of kind brown ones, his face contorted in a frown as he looked away from you, you giggled as gojo whistled, "I think there's some talking due here so~"

he pulled both you and itadori together as yuji whined for being dragged.

"nu-uh you both are gonna talk and we," he pointed towards himself and megumi, "are gonna leave."

he pushed you both in a room and closed the doors (he didn't lock them) as yuji groaned and looked at you, "what was that for y/n?" he asked, a pout etching it's way on his face again as a small smile quirked up on your lips.

"what do you mean, yuji?"

"baby~" he whined, looking away from you, "you know what I mean..." he fiddled with his fingers as he looked down at the floor, "you know... you going on a date with inumaki..."

"but that didn't mean anything," your heartstrings pulled at you as despite your plan you rushed towards him, your hands snaking around his waist as you rested your cheek on his back.

"i don't know, you both looked pretty happy, and you were gone for practically the whole day," yuji murmured, his hands coming to rest on yours as he leaned his head back on yours.

"yuji," you laughed at his whines as his pouts became more prominent and he pulled you in front of him from his back, your eyes widened slightly as you momentarily stopped laughing from the pleasant shock.

yuji's hand rested on your shoulders as his eyebrows were furrowed, you don't think you have seen him look this adorable before.

"you shouldn't laugh on that!" he whined, a deeper frown on his face as his eyes sincerely looked sad. "i came to find you in fushiguro's room and then he told me that you were out with inumaki, you didn't even inform me by yourself."

your smile dwindled as you lean forward, letting your lips rest on his as you kissed him softly, you could feel yuji's hold relax on you as he pulled you in a hug, pulling you closer to him.

"sorry for making you feel bad, yuji."

you both pulled away as your noses still touched, both of you red with slight embarrassment and proximity, and both immediately realising that you just had your first kiss with itadori!

"sorry for ignoring you earlier, baby," he muttered against your lips as he looked at your eyes for any signs of discomfort from the kiss, but all he saw was your radiant and bashful smile as his heart started beating miles faster.

"y/n, baby..." he murmured as you hummed cooly, "yes?" his hands rested on your waist as he leaned his forehead to touch yours, his ears red as he still looked into your eyes.

"can i kiss you again?"

you grinned, rubbing your noses together you said, "yes."

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munsster · 1 year

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hii!! i'd like to request a steve harrington x fem!reader fic pls <33 reader confesses to steve, but he says he doesn't like her. then reader's all 'okay fine, i'm gonna move on' and when she actually does that, steve is 🥺 lots of angst please and some steve grovelling teehee <33

gut feeling

A/N: okay yes 😏 i screwed this up the littlest bit, but i hope it still tickles ur fancy. also i’ve seen this done for king!steve and i wanted to write it for s4 steven

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have big feelings for Steve, he’s just not sure he feels the same way. 3.6k words.

Warnings: angst, but it resolves into fluff, unrequited love trope, lots of feelings, friends to lovers?, CURSING!, italics, established friendship, feat. Keith 😑

"You think it would be gross if we kissed?"

Steve thinks you might actually sound hurt, but he also thinks the face he's making is hilarious beyond belief: kind of contorted and screwed inward, nose scrunched and trying really hard to batten down a grin. You glare at him from the passenger's seat, arms crossed tight over your green Family Video vest.

You think he's wonderful despite his naiveté. If only he knew how handsome you thought he was, all caramel locks and big brown eyes and the kind of smile that reaches his eyes before he's even thought of it. No wonder he has an ego up to the moon. No wonder he still manages to weasel his way into the creases and crevices of any living creature's heart. Even yours. Hell, especially yours.

"Yeah, duh!"—and he's so sure of it, you could cry—"You're like the little sister I never had!"

You chuckle but you look like you're about to hurl yourself out of the car or get yourself arrested for manslaughter. Thank God he's only a block away from your house, or he'd never see the light of day again. Does he really think of you like that? The soft laughter peters out into a grating silence that burns right down your throat and feels like hard metal settling in your lungs.

He doesn't dare glance over at you. He only bites down hard around nothing and grimaces, eyes set hard on the lines dashing beneath the grill of his car. Jesus Christ, he does not think of you like that. And he begs whatever stupid pride is keeping him steady in this nonexistent pissing contest to leave it be, but its jaw is set in the tender meat of the game.

"Don't have to be so jovial about it," you grumble.

"What?"

"Mine's on the left," you grumble, nodding out the window. Oh, he's definitely in trouble. You only ignore him like this when he's done something boyish to a fault.

"I know. I drive you home every—hey!"

"Bye," you coo, booking it up the steps to your door, refusing to turn over your shoulder for fear that you'll burst into tears upon seeing him smile or frown or crack the slightest look of confusion.

He watches you slam the door and rolls the passenger window up with a frustrated sigh. Where the Hell did that come from and why. All while you're sitting against the foot of your bed, chattering into the phone at Robin, still wearing your uniform and tugging at strands of your hair as expletives weave themselves between every three words.

"Oh my Fucking God, I'm so fucking embarrassed right now, Robs—Does he—? Does he think I'm some sort of fuckin' baby? I just don't—"

"He's just being Steve, okay? He probably didn't mean it—"

"The way he looked at me, Robin, I felt like a fucking imbecile. Of all the dickheads in the world I could fall for, my heart chose Harrington? Maybe I'm the idiot." You sigh and kick your feet out, the frustration winding up new nerves and letting them go like tight springs to fling out over your body.

She sighs and it rattles through the grainy speaker. "You're not an idiot; he has his moments. Don't beat yourself up, you know how he gets. He's probably not thinking straight, just... tell him? The worst he can say is—"

"That I'm like a sister to him? Oh, how delightful. That's even worse than just flat out admitting I'm unattractive."

"You're not unattractive, don't do that."

"I am to him," you groan.

"Hey," she hums after a beat of crackling silence. You close your eyes and grip the sickly yellow receiver a little tighter.

"I really like him."

"I know."

"And it sucks."

"I know." The other end rustles and you let out a curt sigh just as you move to stand. "I love you, and I'm here for you. Especially when dumb boys make you feel like shit. You'll always be the most amazing and most beautiful girl in my life, don't forget that."

"Thank you. I'll see you, Robs."

"Take it easy."

—

Steve wakes up to an ache in his neck and a soreness in his knuckles. You didn't call him last night. And he's assuming you didn't call him before school this morning because his alarm clock flashes eleven, first period starts at eight-thirty, and the tone his ancient landline emits is shrill enough to deafen a man. Let alone wake him up in a cold sweat. He concocts a sick feeling in his stomach of burnt orange shame and maroon guilt because he has to wait until closing shift tonight to explain himself to you.

But by then, he's feeling spiteful. You weren't home when he went to pick you up and he waited ten minutes and knocked on the door in bulk. Until someone who was not you answered and told him that you'd gotten a ride with some jerk from the Hawkins High football team. That's not how it was originally said, but that's how he heard it. So you're avoiding him? It makes him spit up a little in his mouth, and he's going about twenty over the speed limit the entire way to make it on time.

By the time he can fling open the glass door and hear the sound of the tiny bell, he spots you in the back corner with a stack of tapes under your arm. Listening to music. To drown him out. And it makes him frown. Six hours. That's how long he'd have to endure this, then he could go home and not call you and not be able to sleep.

The casette in your Walkman can only run for so long, right? But he watches you rewind it after an hour and a half and slumps against the front desk when you grab a new stack of tapes from behind him. He simmers down after the first half of the shift, and of course, the fact that you won't talk to him rubs him the wrong way, but what's even worse is that now you're bumming rides off of losers on the worst football team in all of Indiana.

He gets worked up thinking about that guy's motivation and how many times he probably tried to make a pass at you. Steve would never do that to you. Even if he wanted to, he's a gentleman at heart. He could beat that jerk to a pulp just imagining him giving you the look. God forbid that sucker puts his hands on you. Steve would get charged with battery before ever letting that happen.

It's not like he can say anything to you about it either. He's pissed, and he knows himself. He'd get all angry and confrontational, and you deserve better than that. It's his fault you got there first, and it's his fault you got to stocking, and it's his fault you're tuning him out. But he didn't think what he said last night would be worth all that trouble.

"If you keep up the optic blast, I'm gonna buy you a ruby-quartz visored monocle." And that droning voice could only belong to one overbearing manager.

"What do you need, Keith?" Steve grumbles, and out of the corner of his eye, he catches you looking to the front of the store to watch the encounter with a smirk.

"Duty calls, Harrington. Corporate sent us more shelf space. Need someone to unload it into the office," Keith murmurs, shooting a glance your way, "And, uh... it's kind of unwieldy, so get the kid to help you out."

It makes Steve's eye twitch because you're not some kid. And if you heard Keith refer to you as such, you'd unleash a fleet of curses on him. Only Steve is allowed to call you that. Because it's funny, duh. You're a year younger than him, obviously he's going to use that to his comedic advantage. Oh.

He lets out a sigh—"alright"—and leaves Keith to man the front while he skirts to the back of the store and leads you by the hand through the office.

"'The Hell, Harrington?" you hiss, but you keep your fingers locked between Steve's, abandoning the rest of the tapes on Keith's desk and jogging to catch up with his stride. As forward and demanding as his grip may be, you have to admit, the warmth of his palm is comforting and it makes your heart race because you've never held hands with Steve before. And in any other circumstance, you might've been able to enjoy it a little more.

"Keith told me to tell you that you have to help me bring a shelf in from the truck."

"Oh, I have to?" you bark, now pulling your hand away and putting your headphones around your neck once you exit through the back door with him. "And you didn't think to give me a warning before yanking on my arm?"

"Yes, you have to, and maybe if you weren't listening to that shit so loud, you would've been in the loop." It comes out far more harsh than he intended, and that was exactly what he was afraid of happening in a confrontation with you. His brow softens, and the tension in his upper back and jaw dissipates into his own self-pity party. "And I didn't yank on your arm. Or at least I didn't mean to, so I'm sorry for that much."

Steve hops up into the truck and offers you a hand you don't take as much as you both wish you would have. Because he looks like a kicked puppy, and you have to stop yourself from cheering yourself on. Maybe this will be your first literal step towards getting over him. Once and for all.

After about fifteen minutes of heaving and ho-ing, the two of you manage to haul the shelf into the office as per Keith's request. He was right: it was unwieldy. The awkward grip spots caused a lot of overlap, and you both flinched away from the physical contact in a matter of milliseconds. But Steve couldn't deny he felt bad, and you couldn't deny that you definitely still had feelings for him.

You grab your previously abandoned stack of tapes to scurry out of the office, but Steve stops you by the elbow. And you glare back at him.

"Sorry. The... yanking, I know"—he shoves his hands in his pockets and looks down—"Look, I'm not entirely sure what happened last night in the car, but it clearly made you uncomfortable, and I'd like to apologize."

He can see the neurons firing when he looks you in the eye, but he can also see that his apology wasn't effective in the slightest. Because you're still anger-ridden and fuming at him. You put your headphones on and go back to restocking shelves.

He checks the digital clock above the door. Two hours till eleven. Great.

And they creep by like refrigerated molasses. Second by second. Every time he glances at the clock, only a minute has passed. Eventually, though, he starts cleaning up for closing: vacuuming, cleaning the windows, fixing the display. And he finds himself getting a little more efficient at checking tapes back in and rewinding them only so you'll cruise by the front—scowling at him, but nonetheless at him—to grab a new stack and shelf it.

Five minutes to closing and a sleek, blue sedan pulls into the parking lot, and you practically beam at it, grinning and skipping to the front. You grab your bag from under the counter next to Steve's hip and shove your Walkman into it.

"You know, my car works perfectly fine," he grumbles, "don't have to replace me with some football jerk." He knows that struck a nerve because your smile immediately flickers away into a squint.

"That football jerk is bilingual, a painter, and lets me listen to the music I like in his car."

"But that's not the rules," he whines, desperately defending himself against some sports guy who's probably taking advantage of you.

"Well, I like him and he's nice to me." You sling your bag over your shoulder triumphantly, marching towards the door.

Steve is aghast at the implication. He thought you liked listening to the radio. Plus he took Spanish and art for the required two years, it's not that great of an achievement.

Still, he sputters out, "Yeah, well—"

You wave over your shoulder. "Later, Steve."

Since when did he become such a loser.

He watches jerk-face open the car door for you then glance over to wave at him with a perfect smile and perfect hair and perfect manners. What an asshole. Steve does not wave back.

—

"That's the kinda guy she likes?" he fusses into the phone, palming his face while Robin chuckles on the other line. This whole time he thought for sure you liked the self-assured, cocky, college-age boy type. And now you're dating a high schooler. Come on, jerk-face is not even that good looking.

"First of all, they're not dating. Second of all, don't lie to make yourself feel better; even I can admit he's basically a Greek god," Robin says, shoving a handful of popcorn into her mouth. "Third... why do you care? You’re acting like it’s your job to protect her, but it’s not. She’s an adult now, you know, she can take her of herself.”

He lets out a puff of air through his nose, blinking hard and leaning into the pale yellow receiver. Then mumbling: "She told you."

And she replies, cheerily: "Yup."

"Well—! I just... don't want to see her get hurt. I know that type of guy. I used to be that type of guy. He's bad news, I can tell."

"Right,” Robin scoffs, “It's definitely not because you love her.”

"I don't love her. She's just a baby, and we don't even like the same things. It would never work out between us, there's no connection." They both know it’s a lame excuse, but it’s worked up until this moment. It’s worked since the day you met. You’re too young, the end. Sure, you can be cute sometimes, but you’re also a pain in the ass and you two could never get along long enough to stitch together a real relationship.

But Robin sees through all of that shit. And she’s over it.

“Okay, maybe, but she listens when you talk about cars, and you buy the albums she likes even when she only mentions them once. Plus, you both love Dustin like he's an extra limb”—she’s right, you love that kid to death and Lord knows Steve looks after him like a son—“I think as much as you wretch and complain over her being too young and the connection not 'being there', it seems like you try an awful lot to get her to like you."

He immediately rejects the idea with a scoff.

"Of course I’d want a cool person to like me, old fuckin’ habits die hard. But that's all. She's cool and has a good sense of style and tells the best jokes and makes me feel smart and listens to me, and right now I'm feeling pretty crazy because maybe I do love her and I blew it because... because? Because I don’t know why—but she's probably sitting in some jerk's car listening to her favorite songs and watching him paint the sunset while speaking Spanish or whatever."

Robin closes her eyes, and Steve’s annoyed by the fact that he can hear her smirking. "Jesus Christ, I need to start charging you idiots for my time"—and she sighs—"Just... tell her all that cheese. And maybe throw in an apology or two. I don't know, do what you usually do when you pick up girls.”

He’s frustrated. And annoyed. But he throws a thanks at her anyway and stomps down the stairs and to his beamer. It’s not until he’s shrouded in the piercing light of the convenience store that he realizes three things: he’s still in his work uniform, it’s midnight, and he’s pretty sure he does love you. He grabs a bouquet, not even realizing it’s a bouquet of amaryllis and baby’s breath—he’d prefer roses, but ‘tis not the season, as the cashier told him.

Minutes later, he’s muttering under his breath like he’s mad, waiting for someone to answer your door. And thank God you do.

“Steve—?”

“Oh, shit, did I—were you—?”

“Oh, no, I was just…”—thinking about him—“nothin’. What’re you doing here?”

He pushes a furious hand through his hair, then tucks a chunk behind his ear, worrying at his bottom lip. More nervous than he’s been in his whole life. Then he flashes those soft brown eyes at you, and you’re toast. You step onto your doormat and shut the door behind you because he starts into his sentence like a blazing fire:

"I feel so stupid, and I’m sorry for saying you're like a little sister to me; I don’t believe that, and it couldn’t be further from the truth. You're not like a sister to me, you're like the only thing that matters and I feel like I wanna learn another language for you and take a cooking class for you and listen to your music with you. I just, I mean I’m trying to say you make me want to be a better person, and I feel like I’m already a better person whenever I’m around you. I... what I’m saying—and I promise I’m getting to it—is that I’m sorry for being so stupid and not seeing it before, but I think you're beautiful and I'd be honored if you'd forgive me and maybe consider letting me take you out sometime. Like on a date."

He’s breathing heavily, looking and feeling manic, and your eyes are wide as you slowly process his confession. It goes down like sweet wine, floral down your throat and settling in your tummy like candy. But still: what the fuck? Is he insane? Are you insane?

His hair is flopped to one side, and his work vest is snug around his shoulders. You step forward slowly, and the creases in his forehead seem to go smooth. And you point to the bouquet.

“For me?”

Steve glances down. "Oh, yeah, got em for you. Sorry they're not roses, it's not—"

"I love them, thank you."

He nods. And you smile. And despite how beautiful the soft pink and white flowers are, you’re not particularly focused on their safety when you hook your arms beneath his and rope him into a hug. It’s clearly just what he needed when he goes pliant and heavy against your chest, smiling into your neck as his hands wrap over your shoulders.

"I think we might both be stupid,” you whisper.

He chuckles. "Yup. Just a couple of stupids. Geez, what kinda pair are we?" You both pull away. Only to look at each other squarely. To see a smile creep and creep across the other’s face. And he cocks a brow and says, "By the way, worst twenty-four hours of my life—"

And that’s saying something after the last three years.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Steve, I was just so—"

"I know."

"So confused and disappointed, it was—"

"Torture, yeah, don't even think about doing that ever again,” he teases, pinching your side and scrunching his nose when you pinch him back.

"Yeah. Well, never tell me I’m like a little sister to you ever again.”

Gross.

"I don't plan on it"

With the slow bat of your lashes, and the tender curve of your lips, he can’t not think about kissing you. Not in this light. Not under the meddling moon, and not holding your waist like cupping pools of honey.

Then you look away. For all the shit you talk, he manages to make you far more shy than he ever anticipates. And it gives him butterflies to see you duck away.

"You know, I think you're pretty beautiful yourself, Harrington.”

Oh, he’s blushing now. The blood gushes hot to his face, he could sweat buckets right here and now. You can probably hear his heartbeat. Jesus Christ, what’ve you done to him? You can tell he’s nervous when he chuckles softly. "Does this mean I can start giving you rides again?"

You pretend to weigh your options. As if there would ever be a better alternative. "Only if you let me play my music sometimes.”

"Absolutely. I never liked the radio much anyway."

You let go of him only to cradle your bouquet in both hands, admiring the petals while Steve puts his hands back in his pockets.

"Then I'll see you later," he says. Grinning ear to ear, mind you.

"Yeah,” you coo, “I’ll see you."

With one hand on his shoulder, you plant a kiss on his willing cheek and let him go. But before he can make it to his car you holler, “Wait!” and he jogs back over to you.

"Did I forget somethin’?"

“Yeah,” you poke, "you forgot about our date."

He tilts his head a little, brows furrowed. "Our... our date? What do you mean our… Ohhhh”—he nods in understanding, suddenly hit with a wave of excitement and embarrassment—"Does tomorrow work? We could grab lunch or dinner or something and maybe stop by the arcade or—oh, the fair's in town, that could be kinda fun, unless you don't want to, I mean—"

"Steve?" you hum.

“Mhm?”

"I'd love to."

And suddenly his ego is miles through the roof; he's nodding and grinning and it’s like he can’t wait to wake up tomorrow just to see you again.

"Me too. Okay. Yeah! I'll see you then."

"Bye, Stevie.” You give him a small wave, and the shroud of plastic around the bouquet crinkles like the corners of his eyes at the idea of tomorrow.

masterlist

#steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #unrequited crush #stranger things #x reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x reader #fluff #steve harrington #st4 #stranger things 4 #x fem!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #angst #best friends to lovers #friends to lovers

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kemistre · 11 months

Text

εïз┊𝟏:𝟒𝟕 𝐀.𝐌. — feat. mammon

synopsis. he couldn't help but be concerned when he couldn't find you at 1:47AM

— content warnings. oh just mammon being completely head over heels for you and panicking just a lil bit, gn!reader, they/them pronouns — word count. 1, 478

εïз┊author's note. hehe i know i haven't posted in a few days so here's this <3 i want to write over the weekend but i'm not sure how realistic that is <//3 also i don't play this game anymore but that doesn't mean i don't love all the demon brothers any differently 🤭

a yawn fell from his lips as he made his way down the hall to your room. his older brother, lucifer, had kept him up studying for as long as he could. it was evident from the dark bags under his eyes and the way his shoulders drooped as he walked.

it wasn’t out of the ordinary for mammon to check up on you in your room if he wasn’t in there for the night. he’d been doing it every since you stopped sharing a room with beelzebub. it was just a part of his nightly routine at this point.

another yawn came from his lips as he raised his hand to his mouth, his eyes shutting for just a moment before opening up again as he stood in front of your door. a human living with demons, a demon falling for a human. that was something he never thought would happen to the likes of him.

he sighed, grabbing the door handle and twisting it slowly, hoping not to wake you up from the creaking of the hinges. the light from the hallway peaked into your room as he opened the door more.

he rubbed his eye with his free hand as he stepped into the room to get a better look at your bed. every night you were always wrapped up in your covers with the cutest sleepy look on your face, it was something that always made him smile more than he’d like to admit.

so, when he didn’t see that precious expression of yours asleep in your bed, he panicked. his eyes widened as he swung the door open, even more light shining into your dark bedroom. he swore he looked in every corner, under everything, over everything, and you weren’t there.

he stood outside your room, looking back and forth before making a b-line to leviathan's room, his younger, anime obsessed, shut in of a brother. he banged on the door. “levi! LeVi y/n’s missing! they’re gone, they just vanished into thin air LEVI!”

before he could bang on the door again, it opened, showing a very annoyed looking levi on the other side. “you made me drop ruri-chan, you scum.”

“ruvi whoever doesn’t matter, y/n-”

“ruri-chan does matter.”

“oh screw this,” his eye twitched as he threw his hands in the air, regretting his choice to find this brother first. “i’m done with ya, i’ll find them myself!”

levi stood in the doorway, his annoyed glare turned into one of confusion. “find who?”

“y/n-”

“y/n’s missing?”

“...” mammon bit his tongue, slowly turning back to his brother with a smirk on his face, he had thought of the perfect plan. make levi jealous. “nope, cuz i’m gonna find them without ya and then i’ll be the hero, not you!”

“hero..?” his eyebrows raised, a grin soon finding his lips. “that’s me! the hero, i am!” his eyes filled with pride as he placed his hands on his hips, his “hero stance” as he calls it.

“weirdo..” the word fell from his lips. getting levi to play along was always easy as long as you make him think he’s some sort of hero.

while mammon was thinking of where you could be, he suddenly felt a tug on his wrist. “every hero needs a trusted steed!” and he was dragged through the halls by levi who was really off in his own world.

before he knew it, he was standing in beelzebub’s room while levi poked him until he was awake saying he was just the right steed he’d been looking for.

“y/n’s missing?” beelzebub spoke, his voice low and raspy since that was the first thing he said after bein woken up. “are they in the kitchen? that’s where i’d wanna be right about now.” he yawned as he stood up, following his older brothers down the halls.

levi was way too happy to make a plan to find you, but in the end, mammon just let him do whatever because at least he was helping. the three of them split up, texting each other with their findings. nothing, absolutely nothing.

“where are ya..?” mammon whispered to himself, his brows furrowing as he made his way down the stairs and to the front entrance. a sigh fell from his lips as he casually glanced around the area, not seeing anything that stuck out.

until he took the shortest glance out of the window, his eyes widened as a smile graced his lips at the sight of you sitting on a small hill outside the house. he practically trips over his feet running out of the door and to you.

which, unknown to mammon, one of his younger brothers had seen. he smiled at just how obvious it was that mammon loved you. “how cute~”

as he gets closer to you, he stops running, trying to play it off like he was casually walking towards you. “human, why are ya out here so late? i was worried about y-” he coughed, shaking his head slightly. “beel was so worried about ya he shook me awake, i thought he was gonna eat my arm.”

when you didn’t respond, he poked your head. “hey, i was talkin’ to ya.” a pout formed on his lips as he took a seat next to you on the grass, just a bit closer than he’d meant to.

his eyes scanned over you. you were in your pajamas, but out here in the cold looking up at the sky.

“whaddya lookin’ at? there’s nothin’ up there.” his eyes moved from you, to the nighttime sky he’d been looking at for centuries.

you smiled, your voice hoarse. “in the human world there is,” his lips parted slightly as he looked back at you once more. “have you ever seen stars?”

of course he hadn’t seen stars. he’d never been to the human world at night before, but he couldn’t let you know that. “pfft-” he waved his hand dismissively, a smirk on his lips. “yeah of course i’ve seen stars- duh.”

you giggled, making his eyes widen as the tips of his ears turned a deep shade of red. “they were always so fun to look up at, it was peaceful trying to find the brightest one or seen shotting stars. so, i’m just reminiscing, that’s all.”

“well you should go back to bed,” he changed the subject, in truth, he didn’t want you to see him so blushy and such a mushy mess for you. “it’s dangerous out here by yourself, a demon could eat you y’know?”

there was a moment of silence, where neither of you spoke. it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, no, it was comforting. “out of everyone, i’m glad you’re the one that found me, mammon.” the cheery smile he’d come to know and love graced your lips as you looked his way.

he was too stunned to speak, where usually he’d have a snarky comment denying any feelings he might of felt from your words, he had nothing this time. blush covered his cheeks as his eyes grew wide. the proximity of you two didn’t help his situation either. you were so close.

your hand found his on the grass, smoothing over his as you leaned closer to him. your lips getting almost dangerously close to his. his mind raced. was this a joke? it had to have been a joke. there’s no way you’d feel the same way right? a human and a demon was not a good combo, right?

his heart beat was ecstatic as his free hand slowly found its way to your cheek, cupping your face in the most gentle way. there was hesitation on his part, but could you blame him? he’d been holding back for so long. ever since he might you, he’d been holding back his greedy self for your sake. for the first time in his life, he held back his greed for something, for someone, just for you. “y/n..”

your lips barely brushed against each other, before you both heard a whine from behind you. “y/nnnnn-chan~” and suddenly, mammon felt a hard hit on his head, being thrown to the side like scum. “you don’t get to hog all of y/n-chan’s time like that!” asmodeus, the fifth oldest of the demon brothers whined. “what if i wanted to have a moment with my lovely y/n-chan?” he hugged you tight, pressing his cheek against yours before he started leading you inside, occasionally sending victory glares back at mammon who was still sitting in the dirt.

mammon sat there, a frown on his lips as they began to quiver. his fist hit the ground, then another, and then another like a child throwing a small tantrum. “dammit asmo...” he held a finger up to his lips. “we were so close...”

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astoryisaloveaffair · 1 month

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Fix You - Chapter 16 - Genesis

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Fem!Reader

Fic Masterlist

Read on A03

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Chapter Summary: 🤷‍♀️

Word Count: 4K

Rating: Explicit

Chapter Warnings: cussing, graphic violence, mentions of sex. I'm not giving more warnings than that, sorry.

A/N: Hey all. First I want to say I'm sorry. I literally had no time or motivation to write this. I'm gonna be honest, this is a really tough chapter, and it was hard to get in this headspace. Suffering a recent heartbreak, things in this chapter are things I have thought also, and so it was really hard for me to voluntarily want to address that. I also started working in veterinary medicine, i do not have the spare time that I used to. We also recently adopted a puppy who we named Bucky! And if you read my earlier posts, you know that I was SA'd last January. All that to say, sorry I couldn't do this faster.

Also want to wish a happy birthday to @musings-of-a-rose, my beloved, my bestie, and my constant support. This is for you. Sorry it's not a happier chapter....

* If a character is speaking fully in Spanish, I will put “[ ]” around the dialogue. I speak pretty decent Spanish but not good enough for this

Suggested Songs: "Exile" Taylor Swift feat. Bon Iver, "I Love You" Billie Eilish, "Vampire" and "Logical" by Olivia Rodrigo, "The Night We Met" by Lord Huron and Phoebe Bridgers, "Genesis" by Grimes

You didn’t even flinch at the landing, which was rough, so that’s saying a lot. When the janky cargo door (which looked like at any time during the flight would be ripped right off) opens, you barely even lift your eyes from the floor. You felt heavy and hollow, somewhere suspended in between shock and just not giving a fuck anymore. The only thing you could still fell was the pinching in your heart. It was still broken.

At some point during the journey, the co-pilot had taken pity on you and untied your arms from behind your back and bound them in front of you instead. You hadn’t struggled. There was no point. Where would you go? Jump in the ocean? You weren’t that great of a swimmer and you loved sharks and everything but the open ocean is not where you are supposed to be.

You have no sense of space and time, so you have no actual clue where you are other than not the mainland. You’re dehydrated as fuck, groggy, your vision’s blurry and you’d figured out the sticky moisture on your face was your own blood.

Because when you had suddenly blacked out it was because they’d hit you, and had absolutely no hesitation doing so. They did not care about you, they did not see you as a human being, they didn’t even bother strapping you into a seat so you had been sliding around the cargo bay the entire flight, bumping into everything. You were in deep danger, any hope that you would have some ransom protection had pretty much disintegrated. You had hoped that the boys wouldn’t come for you at first. Then you had hoped that they would, because if you’re ransom, even if at the very least you’d be alive until then, right? But “alive” doesn’t mean unharmed.

A shadow looms over you and it finally makes you look up, squinting to adjust your eyes to something so close, as well as the brightness of the sun. It feels like it takes you 10 whole minutes to process that you were being spoken to in English.

“Eh!” The man leaning over you snips, and when you simply blink in confusion and don’t answer, he slaps you lightly on both cheeks. You’re stunned enough to finally look at him, his oval face, beady eyes and unique sideburns seeming so familiar to you but quite frankly you wouldn’t trust yourself with recognizing even your dad at the moment, so you push that thought aside.

He kneels down in front of you. “You listen to me. We don’t want you. We want the money. This means if you don’t fucking piss me off, I might be nice and not kill you, you understand? Be a smart little girl, eh?.”

You nod, you probably should be feeling some sort of panic setting in but you don’t. Whatever. Who even cares anymore.

He takes your silence as submission. “Bueno.” He whispers, leaning down and grabbing you by the arm, lifting you until you are back on your feet. He tilts his head and steps to the side, revealing 5 additional men with AKs pointed straight at you. From behind, you feel the sharp tip of another poking your back, urging you forward and down the precarious ramp. The pilots.

You didn’t trust that they wouldn’t hurt you, but you knew you had no other choice. Trying to fight was asking for it, and once you step out of the hold and realize you were in the fucking jungle, there would be no sensical place to go even if you did get away.

You step out of the plane onto a rickety steel ramp that bounces as the footpad of your sandals touches it and shuffle slowly down it. You feel suffocated sandwiched between four men, your hands chafe where they are tied and you have been in the same positions for so long your whole body is sore. Every touch and movement hurt.

You stumble as the ramp ends but one of the men grabs your arm and yanks you so you don’t fall. It wasn’t kindness. It was a way to hurt you that he could get away with. The tiny dirt landing strip is almost canopied completely by the jungle trees, leaving large patches here and there where the plane flew through, not noticeable from far above. It looks like you’re walking to nothing, just a dirt road that ends right into the thick middle of the jungle, but you don’t stop at the edge. You push through.

It’s hot as shit and you felt sweat buildup in every crevice of your body, your thighs are rubbing raw from your asinine decision to wear short shorts to the fair, and you could feel a heat rash growing under your tits that you couldn’t even scratch because your hands are bound.

You walk for forever. You walk until the friction rash on your inner thighs turn to lesions. You haven't drank water in almost 48 hours and it feels like 150 degrees out, with full humidity. You’ve had to stop twice already to vomit from heat exhaustion and you still occasionally gag even though there’s nothing in your stomach to come up anymore. All the years that you did not appeal to insects are making up for it now, they’re all over you and you can’t walk 3 steps without one getting in your eye. The jungle gets tighter and you can’t breathe because it’s pushing in on you almost as tight as the hands on your shoulders pushing you forward..

You start crying. At least, that is what you tell yourself as you whimper and sob as quietly as you can. You know you’re strong, but this is just beyond reason that any normal person could take. And when you think about how this is probably what life was all the time in Delta for the boys, you cry even harder because you feel guilty, that you have no right to complain.

Finally, after what feels like forever, the tightness of the jungle seems to loosen. More open. You notice some of the trees look more oddly arranged than others. As you get closer you realize they aren’t trees at all, but tents and dilapidated buildings built into the shadows of the trees. The huge roots and overhanging canopy of the jungle transformed a bustling camp into what looks like a little village. At the entrance, a line of guards in jungle fatigues that were impossible to detect until you got right up to them. You hear someone speak above you, alerting you to a man up in the trees on a platform tucked between the branches. There was another in the tree on the opposite side. He calls to the man with the sideburns, saying something in Spanish you can’t interpret fast enough, but it’s jovial and they laugh, and it makes you feel like you’re going to go mentally insane.

It’s like it’s not even serious to them. And it’s so serious to you.

You are pushed through the camp quickly, but not quick enough that you don’t see the insane amount of cocaine packages piled up in the makeshift buildings, sheds, and tents toward the back. Men were milling about checking them, moving them and glaring at you as you walked past.

You continue past the main camp, crossing over a bustling creek whose bridge was literally just planks of wood, but you noticed there were tire marks across them so you felt at least safe it could handle a car’s weight. Across the creek, an old stonework manor stood. You can tell at one time it must have been glorious, but the white stone-worked walls were dirty and crumbling in many places, the fountains out front had dried crusty palm fronds and dirt in them and looked like they hadn’t sprayed water since the 1980s.

It was still oddly beautiful. You thought about how this house came to be, what it might have looked like when it had been first built. A beautiful Caribbean sea mansion. A jungle that hadn’t closed in on it yet. Fountains spraying and colorful birds resting on the rooftops. But then you realize that this place has probably always been used for what it is now. Someone like Carl Lehder probably lived here and ran an entire cartel within this very jungle. Maybe it was the same one, just run by someone else.

There was a shabbily made shack to the left of the manor with padlocks, piles of debris piled next to the door. You assume that’s where you would be taken, but you were instead led up the stairs to the manor proper. And as your eyes focus in on the ground while you were being guided to the mansion instead, you realize the heap of matter by the shack that you thought was some dying plantation was actually a crumpled human body. A boy looking not much older than 17, shot execution style in the head and left to rot.

Then smell hits you, your knees buckle and you vomit on the stonework stairs, a scream of shock and realization pierces the jungle, making the nearby tropical birds explode from the treetops. When the sicarios pick you up and carry you through the mansion door, you’re still screaming.

Eventually whoever was carrying you became fed up, and simply dropped you at the bottom of the stairs and dragged you up backwards by the armpits instead. You didn’t even feel the step edges hitting the small of your back all the way up, but you would later.

You were tossed stricken and shivering on a disgusting, top-sheeted mattress on the floor in the corner of a room, your feet still bound together and your rope-bound hands looped through a radiator that was long enough only for you to lie down or shuffle over to a bucket for your business. Everything stank and you still had vomit on your chin so you curled up in a ball and slammed your eyes closed, hoping that in time the voices and smells and fear would give way to just simple numbness. You didn’t hear a female voice speaking to you for several seconds.

Your eyes snap open, skin pulled taut from dried unwiped tears,and you jolt upright to look in the direction of the voice. A woman who wasn’t even tied up was propped up against the adjoining wall, and as you take in her condition you could understand why they hadn’t even bothered. She wouldn’t have been able to run.

Her legs look..wrong, splaying at angles that shouldn’t be possible. They look like they could be broken, but you can’t tell for sure because she was wearing jeans that cover up most of her skin. The jeans were ripped in some places and stained with dark blood spots, the color turning brighter wherever her skin shows through the tears in the fabric. She’s missing several fingers on her left hand that had been burnt at the ends to cauterize, and her face was black and blue, swollen and smeared with more blood that seemed to be coming from her scalp somewhere. Her lips are pale and cracking and her eyes are glazed over and barely open. When she speaks, she already sounds like she is dead.

She swallows and winces slightly in pain, then licks her cracked pale lips.“Is…my…her–my brother. Did you see him? Out there?”

Your face scrunches in confusion, which actually hurts a little and you’re not sure from what specifically. Perhaps you look just as bad as the other girl. “Your–I—I don’t understand.”

She’s too exhausted to even be annoyed with you. “My brother. They took him from me days ago. They do not talk to me anymore. They don’t—need me anymore.” A single tear falls down her swollen cheek and you suddenly feel so much connection with this woman and how incredibly fucking strong she is. Her eyes roll over to you, meeting yours for the first time. There are burst blood vessels in them.

“I think that they killed him.”

Your lips part and you utter a shuddering breath as you connect the dots. There’s no point in sugar-coating it. You nod slowly. “I think so. But it’s not…recent.” You look away as her eyes slowly close, the additional tears she was holding back finally spilling over and cascading down her cheeks.

“Bueno.” She says. “Then at least he is not suffering like me.”

You both fall quiet and you look over her again. Her pants aren’t completely done up and her t shirt is ripped at the neckline, exposing a gashed shoulder. Almost like…

You start crying again, and you feel even worse about it this time because you have in front of you a woman who has been through much worse and is somehow NOT crying. You curl tighter into yourself to try and hide.

But she simply asks. “Who are you?”

You swallow, raising your head up off your arms, quickly wiping the access tears off on your sleeve. It’s incredible how adrenaline and fear can sometimes make you the most clear-headed you’ve ever been. Your thoughts are swirling but you knew one thing for damn sure, if they didn’t know your name yet, you weren’t going to say it now.

If I look forward I am lost. Focus on right now. Nothing else. It’s my best chance.

You know enough about trauma that compartmentalizing this moment is your best chance. You can’t think what will happen if you don’t escape, if you aren’t found, if they never come for you. You need to stay focused. You need to keep hope alive. You need to stay coherent, because if a chance pops up, you need to be able to think quickly.

“I’m no one.” You mumble. “Just happened to be dating the wrong person.”

She sniffs and looks away, but it’s muffled because her nose sounds congested. You don’t miss her tone though. “Mmmm. His new one then.”

You blink. “What?”

Her glazed over, discolored eyes snap back to yours. “Pope.” She spits. “Your man. Santia—”

“NO!” You cut her off with a shout, you know there is a guy who is in the area and you still don’t know how much these men do or do not know. “Don’t. Don’t give them names if they don’t already know it.”

“I don’t give a shit about Agent Garcia, or his friends, or anyone else, it’s their fault I am here and it’s their fault my brother is dead and..” She finally, finally starts to cry. “I told him I didn’t want to do it. They said they would let us go if we gave them what they wanted.”

“It was you.” You exhale with a shuddering breath. “They found us cause of you. You told them.” You shake your head, and for some reason you feel betrayed by this woman even though you’ve never met her. “How could you?”

“Because all I care about is my brother, do you understand?! I wish I’d never met him, Garcia, we would have just snuck away and no one would never seen us, but no, instead we listened to him and helped them steal from fucking Lorea, and now they found us and I knew they would, and YES, I gave them EVERYTHING because they said they’d let us go so long as they found you and–”

“Eh!” A voice trails in with a watchman you knew was hanging out somewhere in the hallway beyond. He slips through the doorway, a smaller man you were not expecting from that voice, and leans against the deteriorating door frame. He crosses his arms and his legs and it makes the handgun on his hip jut out prominently from his skinny hips. “No talking to each other.” His voice is silky and the words all slide together so it sounds like ‘no talkintoeeachother.’

You shrink back into the dirty wall behind you as your associate spits a bloody phlegm ball in the man’s direction. “FUCK you!” She snarls, a tirade of cuss words in Spanish flying from her lips.

A loud pop almost bursts your eardrums and your heart and you exclaim in terror as your associate is shot point blank in the head, her back slumping against the wall and her head hitting with a bang, pieces of blood and brain tissue spraying over the back wall with pieces flying in your direction.

The man remains completely motionless with his arms still raised before huffing a laugh to himself, putting the gun back on his hip, and looking at you with the such an unaffected gaze it leaves you feeling dizzy and you scream and scream and scream yourself hoarse, crumpling onto your mattress in a terrified heap, arms over your head, sobbing hysterically.

A gentle but firm palm wraps around your forearm, yanking you back up to a seated position. You look away, but the man’s other hand takes you gently by the jaw and makes you look at him. And just behind him, the woman slumped in a pool of blood and brain matter. You try to wriggle out of his grip but he tightens ever so slightly, and you can’t help but notice how different it is when Frankie would grab you like that versus this man. Frankie held you the same, sometimes harder, but you had trusted his domination and his care of you and because of that, it made it arousing. That same motion with this man has you more scared than you ever have been in your life.

“Bebita.” He coos, thumb lightly caressing your jaw. He wipes at a small speck of blood you don’t know is even there. You can feel yourself shaking and breathing so fast you can see his half waxed back tousled locks that hang past his temples are blowing in its breeze. You can’t answer him. “Look at me.”

You do. His eyes are a dark, almost black chocolate brown, shape mismatched, a scruffy beard and goatee and thin lips. In another world you would find him devastatingly attractive and the fact that you do makes you feel absolutely violated and disgusted with yourself.

“Do not cry.” He continues. “You have no reason to if you behave, si? You be good and you listen and I will keep you safe you understand? Well, at least for now.” He shifts closer to you, you can smell his breath. It smells like orange and cloves. “There are a lot of men here Bebita. I am sure you understand what this means, si? Answer me.”

“Yes.” A final fat tear spills from one of your eyes, and it stings as it mixes with your sweat and the raw skin around your eyes.

He juts his head in the other woman’s direction. “This one, she fight the whole time. I like a easy job. Make my job easy, I make sure you always deal with me. Do not make me call in the other guys, they are not as nice. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He releases your chin and you scoot back quickly as he saunters over to the other woman’s bloody body, grabs it by the arm, and casually drags her as dismissively as possible out the door and out of your sight, leaving a bloody trail behind.

At first you just sit there in a slump staring at the opposite wall,, you don’t know for how long. Probably hours. Maybe days. The man, whose name you figured out from when he spoke to someone else in the hall, is Angel. Sometimes he would sit up and watch you, as if figuring you out, your body and the way you shift and switch positions when you are uncomfortable, what it looked like when you were crying and trying to keep quiet and unnoticed. But most of the time he ignored you. Occasionally others would come into the room and either speak to him or approach you, but upon noticing Angel watching them they would hiss or spit a curse and slink off.

The room reminded you of those old houses from the 70s that had those drafty unfinished basements that were simply concrete floors, painted stucco or white brick. To the sicarios, it served as an overflow area, there was a rotting desk along the side wall with a metal folding chair and piles of scattered papers and random household tools on them. Against the opposite side wall was a pretty nice tv, considering, which was always playing soccer. Angel seemed to make that his home base, his lithe frame sprawled across a grandma-fabric sofa, head resting on one of the puffy arm rests. He binge-smoked cigarettes and his right hand was always stretched over his head resting against his forehead in the direction of to an end table with an massive overflowing porcelain ashtray on it. You didn’t used to mind the smell of cigarettes too much but now it makes you feel sick.

You’re ashamed of how little you actually think about your current situation and like the hopeless romantic idiot you are, mostly all you can think about is Frankie. The things he said–you knew he said mean things when he was mad, or things he didn’t mean, but isn’t there always some truth to things that are said in the heat of the moment? That was enough for you to silently spiral. You thought about every memory you had of him and how it could be viewed through the lens that Frankie just wanted to fuck you. Your self confidence was low enough it was believable, and your mind races through every instance of an older man being in a relationship with someone much younger and how of course it was predatory, and how could you not see it, that you didn’t have anything in common? It’s a tale as old as time. He just wanted to fuck you, he wanted to fuck you and dominate you, his dark desires seducing you into feeling so wanted you can’t believe you thought he loved you and didn’t see right through it.

And his friends, well, they were all in on it weren’t they, because why would they want to hang out with someone like you either? Why would men such as that actually want to be friends with you when you have never experienced half of what they have.

Fuck him. Fuck him and his lying ass, he was a fucking loser addict and you’re pissed at yourself for even considering him. Like how lonely were you?? To choose an old man with a kid who served in an institution that represented everything you hated about this country? To be so easily blinded by pretty words and love bombs to immediately take your clothes off. Because how, if he actually loved you or even like you, could he possibly have lied about something so big?! Or bought you something nice with all that fucking drug money he stole. Not that you’d want it or expected it, but why wouldn’t you want to treat someone you love as much as he claimed to?

How could he sit there and make up what happened to Tom like that, when you were being so coddling and trying to be a caring ear. And Benny…Pope...if they were your friends they should have told you, that’s what real friends do…

But they weren’t your friends. They were never your friends.

And if you went the other way, and considered that it was all true, that he did love you, that they were all your friends, and that he lied to you and threw stones to hurt you and push you away, how was that any better? You couldn't even think about a future not being with him, but obviously he could. He could watch you cry and question him and not even look at you, completely ignore you, then not even think about you again. No texts, no calls. No “I’m sorry, please come back.” Silence.

How could it be so easy for him? How can he just go about his life like you never happened? Why did you still care?

Why did you still want him?

Why did you still love him so so much. Part of you wishes they’d get on with it and just kill you. At least then you wouldn’t have to feel this excruciating pain. You wouldn’t have to see him show up to rescue you because he has to, to have to see his fucking face and every line, crinkle, scar, the bald patch in his beard and the tousled little curls that pop out of his hat…only for him to save you and then leave again, or die and then you have the guilt of killing a man who no longer loved you.

Yea. You think you’d rather die.

You feel like you’re going to throw up again. You’d let him force his cock in your mouth as far as it could go, let him tie you up and fuck you hard enough to leave bruises you had thought of as a badge of honor. You’d let him cum on your face. You’d let him fucking cum inside you! He’d gaslit you so you actually wanted him to tie you up with zip ties—-

Your heart almost stops. You can picture how his face looked exactly when he said it.

Sometimes rope can give over time.

That’s why we always used zip ties.

You look down at your bound hands.

They’re bound with rope.

#fix you fic #triple frontier fanfic #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales x you #frankie catfish morales x reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic

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saintslewis · 7 months

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❝ 𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐘 ❞

𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 — 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

˖ ࣪⭑ pairing: sir lewis hamilton x fem!oc

˖ ࣪⭑ summary: it’s Nads’ first day on the paddock at the Miami Grand Prix!

˖ ࣪⭑ warnings: cussing, outfit descriptions, some seriously bad flirting, lots of name dropping

˖ ࣪⭑ wc: 6.7 k

˖ ࣪⭑ saint’s team radio: my babies, hi! i ain’t got no backstory, it’s just been tough to write lol. this chapter is my baby so i hope you all enjoy it 🥹. dedicating this to @httpsserene (twinnnnn) because she knows how much i back my man all the time lol. okay okay on with the story!

pls like, reblog and comment!!!

renaissance:the series • previous chapter

The sounds of the F1 cars and the noisy commentators went through Nadia's ears quite noisily. Fixing the position of her headphones, she held her phone horizontally as she watched through her husband's various wins throughout the years.

Her Tuesday was busy, well busily spent watching over previous races and anything related to the sport that Lewis was in. Nadia was determined to get onto the Miami paddock and not fuck up her first public appearance by not knowing anything about F1 and as much as she wanted to research a little bit more on Lewis, she decided against it, solely wanting him to tell her everything.

Her suitcases sat nicely next to her couch, the same couch that would be in her storage unit by the time she gets back from the states. Knowing that the weather that side would be ridiculously hot, she made sure to pack good outfits, enough to be Miami-approved along with all her good wigs.

It has been almost a week since she met Lewis' friends at his - their home and to think that she would be travelling the world with them so soon was not something she thought would happen. The next day, she spent it ogling at her screen on things to do in Miami. The rest of the weekend was dedicated to maintenance; wigs, nails, lashes, waxing with the occasional facetime sessions with Lewis just sharing all types of jokes to distract her from the prep.

Her phone rang in the middle of her binging Brazil 2021, showing a call from Natalia. "Hello?" Nadia answered.

"Nads, hey. I know we're literally going to be together tomorrow on the plane but i just wanted to check in to see if you're doing okay and if you're ready for Miami?" The ever so hyper girl asked excitedly.

"I've got my stuff ready and I think I'm clued up on the sport enough." Nadia's voice was clear yet soft, balancing her phone on the coffee table. "But are you wag ready?" Natalia asked, earning one of Nadia's infamous side eyes.

"Girl, what?"

"Nads, please don't tell me you don't know what that means." Natalia stressed as she ruffled around to sit up straight.

"Then you won't like my next answer." She smiled, standing up to go to the kitchen. "Oh my days, one of the most famous wags right now and she doesn't even know what it is." Natalia laughed, continuing with her explanation.

"So basically, it's a wife or girlfriend of an athlete. All you're gonna do when we get there is maybe make some friends with the other wags and just be his biggest supporter, even if it means we throwing hands." The girl laughed even louder, their laughter bounced off the walls.

"Now you're speaking. I think I'll be good as long as I have someone to guide me through it, y'know?" Nadia said, fidgeting with whatever is in front of her which in this case, was a fork.

For the umpteenth time in the last 3 weeks, Nadia was nervous about everything changing so quickly. This was her first public appearance as 'Mrs Hamilton' and knowing that she will have to face so many eyes on her was something she couldn't bear to think of.

"Here's my ting, Nads. You're not just the wife of any driver there, you're lawfully linked with the literal face of that sport. That man is beyond famous and keeping up with his life as his friend group is so exciting yet so fast paced so if you need anything, you got us. Genuine chats." Natalia smiled, watching her friend fiddle with the fork.

"I just need to keep up and plus Lew said if it gets too much, I can always just come back and chill at home which is something I will definitely do." Nadia said, picking up her phone.

"Exactly babes! Anyways, I'll pick you up later then we head to the airport together?" She offered. Nadia just nodded before posing in the kitchen. They wished each other their goodbyes and Nadia immediately got to work, sorting out her outfits for the third time.

The drive to the airport felt so surreal, the tiny droplets of rain sped down the car window as the music blared through Nadia's headphones. A sleeping Natalia layed across her lap, barely moving unless there was a slight bump on the road.

Preparing herself to go on a plane for the first time in 12 years , she breathed in and out and went very deep in her thoughts. The slight breeze of the air conditioner in the car raised hairs on her arms, definitely regretting putting her emergency hoodie in one of her suitcases and not in her carry on.

She had just decided to run on autopilot for the rest of the trip, every single thought of hers gnawing at her causing a headache to form. The feeling of constantly having eyes on her was overwhelming, every time she wants to run an errand or or go on with her maintenance day, she would always be stopped for a picture or even worse, have a camera following her around. She now understood why celebrities would always have their headphones on in public.

Heathrow Airport appeared in her vision, her hand immediately landing on Natalia's arm and shook her a bit so that she could wake up and prepare herself.

"We here yet?" The woman said, rubbing her eye and blinking quite quickly. All Nadia could do was nod and slightly smile at her friend who immediately felt Nadia's vibe. "Okay Nads, I don't know what your thoughts are chatting about but think about it like this: a cute little trip with new friends and experiencing new shit while looking good at the same time. I can feel your overthinking from here." Natalia said, cuddling into her friend.

"You know, you say some cute shit then you violate me after. Is this your thing?" Nadia chuckled as the driver drove towards the main entrance of the airport.

"Y'should hear the shit I say to Miles."

The process of getting checked in went incredibly smoothly, considering the girls met Tia when rolling their suitcases. It was all relatively easy as they were flying private, the jet waiting patiently for its passengers. The short drive in a different SUV to the jet had Nadia's stomach flutter as she took everything in. Stepping out the car to a very gloomy night sky, the crème white jet stood in all its glory and Nadia battled herself to not take pictures but she couldn't help it.

Nearing towards the steps with her carry-on, the flight attendants smiled with champagne flutes in their hands. "Welcome Miss Tia, Miss Natalia and Mrs Hamilton. I do hope you have a wonderful flight to Miami." One of the woman had greeted with a blinding smile.

Accepting the champagne although utterly creeped out, Nadia greeted everyone back and made her way into one of the most beautiful private jets she'd set her eyes on. Hermés blankets were placed on top of the seats, charcuterie boards were set and the night lights were on, referencing the stars in the night sky. Seeing how relaxed Tia and Natalia were, she took a deep breath and took a window seat.

Next to her were different types of chocolates and sweets, water bottles, sodas, spritzers along with champagne sat aesthetically all around her. Settling across from her, Tia whipped out her iPad and immediately got to work, hoping to talk to Nadia while she was still awake.

The two spoke on many different topics pertaining the marriage and Nadia's new found fame. "To summarise before we dive deep. I already opened up an Amex bank account for you because the money you'll make throughout all this is insane. You've got a lot of people to meet on Friday but I'll take you through everything on Thursday."

Nadia just listened to everything. "So while Lewis has a photoshoot tomorrow, we'll meet with your new team which by the way, have already prepared outfits for you for the coming weekends because i know you brought your own this week. Just remember, don't be too hard on yourself. I know it's a lot but you two can get through it. Oh, and you can finally open up your social media profiles." Tia smiled, closing the iPad with its cover and handing her a black card, mouthing that it already has money on it.

"Now we can sit back and relax for the rest of this 8 hour flight." Natalia said, eye mask already covering her eyes with a blanket enveloping her. The plane had already taken off during Tia speaking so she didn't have much to be nervous about in the moment.

MIAMI

Stepping off the jet steps, 4 bodyguards stood as Nadia's sight immediately went to the three large escalades, reminding her of how a president would be transported. Greeting everyone a very tired good morning, she spotted Lewis climbing out one of the cars along with Miles. A smile appeared on her face as she saw them, the nerves being pushed away at the sight of people she recognised.

"How was your flight, bruv? Got some coffee to wake you up." Lewis said with a smile, putting her suitcases in the car, his sweater sleeves lifted and showed his tattooed arms flexing as he lifted them.

She knew it was too early into the friendship to be having such thoughts but she couldn't help but feel some way about him as she watched him and he glowed in the morning sun, laughing at a joke Miles had said. Not to mention how her heart fluttered knowing he got her coffee although he himself doesn't like the hot drink.

"Nads?" He called to her, seeing her in a dazed state but quickly snap back to it. "It was great, Tia distracted me from the flight takin' off so that's a plus. Had one too many croissants and before I forget, I got us something that I hope you'll like." She said, climbing into the open car door and put her tote bag next to her.

On the way to the hotel, the two played some Raye while making jokes and talking about the rest of the weekend, assuring Nadia that if she wasn't comfortable going to all these events that she could stay back at the hotel. All she knew was that she was definitely going to watch him play some basketball the next day.

"And the pants are pink? Like your trousers are hot pink?" She asked the man as they drove through Miami, oblivious to the copious amounts of billboards with his face on it be it about Formula 1 or IWC, the watch brand that he was ambassador for. "And I was told to show you my outfits for the whole weekend for your first well, second public appearance." He said, sitting comfortably on his seat, playing around with his phone but not using it.

"That's very kind of whoever told you that. Before I regret my gift, do you wear grills? Or tooth jewellery in general?" Nads asked, unconsciously holding onto her tote bag.

"Are you about to say what i think you're about to say?" Lewis asked, turning his whole body towards her. "Do you know how hard it was having to describe your teeth to the person who made them? Anyways, I thought we could wear the grills the same day as like a statement, y'know?" She said, taking out two cases with the same branding.

"That's a great idea, I truly love it and these grills, man. Might build a mini collection." Lewis sounded impressed, bringing the jewellery closer to really look at it then looked at Nadia with a feeling that he was struggling to decipher but he get genuine appreciation towards her.

"Thank you pookie bear for these, i'll cherish it forever." He smiled, his eye wrinkles prominent.

"Oh my days, you said it." She covered her mouth with both hands, the ring shining as the rays of the morning sun hit it.

"What? Pookie bear?"

"Yeah, you barely say it! Oh my days, say it again so i can record it." Nadia said, bringing her phone out, making Lewis laugh so hard as they drove to the hotel.

Thursday afternoon could not come fast enough with Nadia standing in the large hotel bathroom, scratching her bald cap as she stared at the two wigs in front of her. The one was a light pink, wanting to support Lewis in pink and the other was black, very neutral but was quite long.

Her outfit was laid out on the bed, consisting of a denim mini skirt with pink low cut nikes, her reflective diesel bag that she received the night before and a dark gray tee with Baby Lewis on it. For Nadia, this outfit was quite simple as she liked to branch her style out, no matter how bold it might be.

The memories of the night before started to flow through, smiling by herself. When the crew had come back from dinner in the ever so luxurious hotel restaurant, she came back to all types of gifts on her bed, a note from Lewis reading 'for your first grand prix' with a heart next to it.

New Van Cleef and Arpels bracelets as she jokingly requested, the Diesel bag she would be sporting at the IWC event, two Dior saddles bags and two new pairs of sneakers that she had yet to open. The tears that were in her eyes dropped down her face as she opened her gifts, texting a sleeping Lewis a selfie with all her presents.

"Okay girl, let's do the black wig because the shoes and bag are already pink." Nadia decided, her voice echoing as she spoke to herself in the spacious bathroom. Putting some music on, she continued getting ready whilst waiting for Lewis to pick her up as he's coming from the track.

As if someone heard her thoughts, she heard a knock on the door followed with the wood creaking beside it and she instantly knew it was Lewis. Opening the door with a smile on her face, she saw him with the same beaming smile as she displayed. It looked as if he already changed his outfit from this morning, keeping up with his activities on social media.

"Well good afternoon sir." Nadia greeted as she walked back into the room to grab her handbag, phone and sunglasses, walking out as soon as she got everything with her.

Now, Lewis was someone who would subtly blush at the slightest compliment he would receive or whenever anyone mentioned that they liked his outfit, he would be grateful then brush it off with one of his smiles. However, hearing his assigned title come from the lips of his wife - new friend and not to mention her wearing his t shirt, made his chest warm. Same feeling he got whenever he would gift her anything and just see her smile.

There are just friends who just so happen to be married.

"Hi Nads. I'm loving the shirt by the way." He complimented, watching her lock up her room and place the key card in her bag. "Oh thanks, some guy i'm married to gave it to me. Do you think this kid is a legend now?" Nadia joked as they both walked to the elevator, relieved to have no one inside.

"I heard he's this really cool driver. Also props to that random dude who gave you the tee, super stylish and amazing." Lewis spoke as he leaned on the railing of the elevator.

"Okay not too much now." Nadia scoffed, followed up with a giggle.

Upon arriving at the place, it was truly crowded with fans and many camera crews all facing an incredibly large billboard with Lewis' face on it, his arm showing off the expensive watch. Majority of those involved in the event were wearing pink and many of the fans standing outside had a mixture of colours, including neon yellow and purple.

As their Escalade rolled up to the main entrance of the event, the cheers were heard from all around the car. Playing with her hair nervously, Lewis watched as he was getting ready to get out the car. "D'you mind if I hold your hand? Just noticed you were nervous." He voiced, seeing her snap out of her mind.

Looking down at his large open hand, Nadia didn't think twice about grabbing onto it and holding it tightly. As he stepped out of the car, the screams became louder as he waved to everyone with his other hand whilst Nadia scooched out with the car step helping her. As if the screams and cheers couldn't get any louder, her foot touched the ground and people were shouting out all types of things.

Although Nadia was nervous, she felt Lewis squeeze her hand and prompt her to look at him, his eyes more comforting than anything. Shooting a quick smile and wink at him, she went back to greeting everyone clawing for attention. He stood for a moment, in awe of her instant switch from what he saw in the car. Remembering where he was, he too snapped up and walked towards fans to sign stuff.

About an hour into the event, Nadia sat and cheered underneath the VIP section of it all. Starstruck event workers stood close to her, offering anything she would want from the stalls all around. With a pink lemonade in her hand, she watched Lewis play basketball with the widest smile on his face as he dribbled the ball and put the ball through the next.

To get better sight of her hunk of a husband, she sat closer to the kids who too watched in awe of everything and it isn't hard to believe that she began playing some hand games with them while workers were busy. While Lewis stood to the side of the game, he watched as Nadia interacted with the kids sitting on chairs clearly made for children but it was the pure joy she radiated that struck him the most.

Digging his phone out of one of his many pockets on his hot pink pants, he snapped a few photos of her surrounded with kids and he was very sure that the many camera crews also captured the adorable moment. Looking up, Nadia locked eyes with Lewis from across the court, waving excitedly which prompted the kids to wave as well.

After a while, Lewis was asked to do an interview and one of the questions were where else he would like to race and to get a reaction out, he uttered the words "I would like to race in South Africa, my wife's home country and definitely because it would be an amazing track." Little did he know that that clip would send the internet into a frenzy.

SATURDAY

Ultimately deciding to show face in the paddock on Qualifying Day and definitely ruining Tia's master plan, Nadia placed her earrings on before taking pictures of herself in the mirror for her to post later on in the day.

Fixing her top a little, she held onto it while looking for the small case that held her grillz and finding them on the nightstand, securely placing them on her teeth. She quickly switched her heels for sneakers knowing that she would be walking around the whole day.

Her mood was all over the place from the moment she woke up. She knew going into another deep dive was going to affect how she would be with everyone she was supposed to meet but she did so in the late evening after the day she had. She hadn't fully memorised names but she could identify them in an instant if anyone were to show pictures of F1 drivers.

Natalia, Miles, Charlotte and Spinz had already left earlier on, leaving Nadia and Lewis to get to the track together as planned. The knock resonated through the door, signaling that Lewis was here to pick her up. Grabbing everything she needed including the paddock passes, she got to the door with a slight scowl on her face.

"Woah, you're blonde now." Lewis pointed out, leaning against the doorframe with his hands in his pants pockets. His red sunglasses matched the parts of red on his Tommy Hilfiger sweatshirt with his blue sneakers matching the blue parts. He flashed his smile, showing off his grillz.

"That FIA president better watch his mouth when it comes to you, talking some bullshit so early in the morning." She warned, locking the door with her key card once more and she placed her all black sunglasses on.

"Nads, wait. What's going on?" Lewis stood there. "Went on a deep dive last night and developed a deep resentment towards the higher ups of the sport." She said, shrugging her shoulders then leading the way towards the elevator.

As confused as he was, Lewis walked quick to catch up with her as she walked closer and closer to the elevator.

"And before you say anything peace instilling, I'm not going to beat anybody up...yet." Nadia said, crossing her arms as she stood next to Lewis in the large metal box. "..You look really nice today." Lewis chose his words carefully, not used to seeing her in this mood.

"So do you, very chilled out. Well, until you smile then you'll send those geezers into a heart attack." She snickered, showing the matching grillz. "I think they'll be fine. They saw a glimpse of my stomach yesterday and told me I looked like Magic Mike." He said, laughing at the ridiculous comments he heard yesterday.

"Not them comparing you to an unsexy white man?" She jokingly said, with them falling into a fit of giggles. "I know this is going to sound out of pocket but did you know that your arms look very bite-able? Like I could just take a munch out of them."

"Nadia, what the fuck?"

It was evidently clear that this was a huge weekend for Miami, thousands of fans walking the streets in merchandise from their favourite teams or drivers.

The motorcade they were riding in could be compared to being presidential, people cheering whenever it drove by and getting out of windows to cheer at the red lights. Reaching the Hard Rock stadium, it shocked Nadia to see how many people were in attendance with probably thousands more already welcomed in. With the touch of a button, Lewis' window went down as he greeted everyone with a wave and a smile, gaining a positive reaction from everyone.

Eventually slowing down within the private parking, the pretend couple climbed out the car with Lewis opening the car door for Nadia. Waving to the crowd with him made Nadia feel slightly overwhelmed, noticing how the crowd grew even more when he appeared.

Leaning down a little to whisper into her ear, "You can be with me for now then we can walk in together." Lewis' breath tickling her ear, fighting a shy smile towards the man. Walking with him to his supporters or literally anyone who shoved anything in his direction, Nadia took out her phone to capture this moment and how loved he truly was.

A few fans were signaling to her to sign some stuff and for pictures, surprising her at the excitement of the fans. Leaning over to sign stuff, she received a few friendship bracelets, a few gifts that she handed over to security and some many compliments that her cheeks were starting to hurt.

"Bye everyone!" She exclaimed, signaled to finish up and head into the paddock. The crowd responded and she felt a large hand intertwine with hers, relieved to see that it was Lewis'. Cameras had begun to follow them, her hand squeezing his in nervousness. Reaching the official entrance of the paddock, he stepped back to let her sign in first then he did afterwards.

Flipping her blonde hair and fixing her sunglasses, their hands intertwined once again as they began to walk down the incredibly long pathway. All types of media was running around them like headless chickens, hurling questions their way but all the two did was smile and greet everyone who greeted them.

The power that resonated through the pretend couple as they walked towards the Mercedes hospitality inside the stadium, everyone could feel it. The pure confidence and kindness they showed on the short walk was enough to keep the world talking for a few weeks, grillz shining as they grinned and Lewis fist bumped people as he usually did.

Once reaching Mercedes, Nadia and Lewis weren't aware of the small crowd that had gathered behind them as they walked, everyone intrigued with the sight of Nadia next to the 7x World champion of the sport. "Lewis! Nadia, hello!" A short woman with a blonde bob enthusiastically said, standing up from one of the chairs inside the building.

"Susie! How's it going?" Lewis said, hugging the woman. "I am doing quite well," Susie said. "Who is this beautiful woman?" She asked, setting her eyes on a nervous looking Nadia.

"Hello, I'm Nadia. It's such a pleasure to meet you, Lewis told me about you." She smiled, stretching her arm out for a handshake that Susie happily accepted. "Oh my, likewise. I will have to steal you away from him now as he has to get ready for quali. Toto has meet you as well." Susie said.

"I do have to go unfortunately so I'll see you later in the garage?" Lewis asked, placing his hand on her waist whilst looking into her eyes. "Yup, have fun bruv." Nadia winked then placed a kiss on his cheek, the lipgloss leaving a residue on his cheek that he didn't dare to wipe off.

He winked back (dismally), then left the two ladies, greeting everyone in his way before walking off with Rosa, his Mercedes media personnel.

As Susie and Nadia had the cutest bonding time, including a very giddy Toto Wolff who was excited to see Lewis' wife to make sure that he wasn't seeing things. Nadia walked out of the hospitality with a chocolate bar in her hand, trying to remember the directions Susie had given her to the Paddock club.

Having no clue where she was going, she approached a woman who looked quite kind, donning the same passes as she was across her chest. "Hi there!" Nadia greeted as she stopped in front of the woman who's eyes went wide at the sight of Nadia in front of her.

"Holy shit, you're her." The woman blurted out as she then proceeded to slap her hand on her mouth afterwards. Nadia giggled at the woman's reaction, watching her as she swallowed whatever was in her mouth. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. You're just so pretty in real life. I'm Lily." She rambled out.

"Hey Lily, I'm Nadia," the older woman tilted her head a bit and maintained eye contact. "Don't know if you're busy right now but do you mind showing me to the paddock club? Thank you for the compliment, so are you!" She spoke, seeing Lily lose her breath a little when making direct eye contact.

"Oh! Of course, that's where I'm headed right now. You can join me in my walk there, it's not too far." Lily offered, to which Nadia just nodded and the two conversed all the way.

Once reaching the overly luxurious and crowded space, Lily guided Nadia towards a private section of the already exclusive space. Greeting those who waved at her as they walked by, she spotted a group of younger looking women who were eagerly looking around until their eyes landed on Lily and Nadia, smiles growing larger with them all standing up in excitement.

Deciding to greet the group first, she held her arms out and they fell into a huge group hug. Nadia felt surprisingly safe and definitely knew that these were the wags that Natalia was speaking about a few days before.

"Super sorry for the ambush, once we saw you enter the paddock we've been excited." The calm brunette woman grinned. "I'm Carmen, I'm with George." She tucked her hair behind her ear, her aura very classy.

George Russell, Lewis' teammate.

"I'm Kika! Francisca but I prefer Kika." The tall girl introduced herself, resembling a deer. Her eyes large with a beaming smile. "I'm with Pierre."

Pierre Gasly, apart of that one pink team. French guy.

"I'm Alexandra, so nice to meet you." The last girl introduced herself, voice very soft but visibly excited. She looked like she would be with someone from Ferrari. "I'm with Charles." She beams, Nadia's guess being correct.

"Well hi everyone, I'm Nadia." She said, opting for all the girls to sit. Kika gasped before she sat down, "oh my goodness, I just realised that you look like Tinker Bell."

The other girls looked at Nadia properly and agreeing with Kika, giggles floating around.

A lengthy conversation from fashion to careers to food, the group of women were interrupted by a Mercedes employee, asking for both Carmen and Nadia in the garage. Grabbing each other's hands, the two women greeted their friends goodbye as they walked out of the Paddock club.

The Mercedes garage was everything that Nadia imagined it to be, people wizzing in and out of there with both cars proudly displayed as the crowd gathered to take pictures of each car or simply wanting a picture in front of the driver's garages.

Spotting her husband's braids over everyone in front of him, she carefully walked over to him, not wanting to trip over anything. Locking eyes with each other, Lewis quickly put his airpods back into their case and stuck his hand out for her to hold onto. Manoeuvring his arm around her shoulder whilst holding her hand, Lewis held Nadia closer to him. Avoiding the cameras and the watching eyes everywhere.

"So? How was it? Heard you are quite the star today." Lewis teased. Glancing up at the man through her lashes, she smiled and bounced on her feet a little. "Everyone is so nice. I met the other girlfriends and bruv, you should've seen them. It was like I was holding the universe in my hands." She joked, earning a nod and a smile.

"Do you think you have one more introduction left in you? I have someone I'd like you to meet." He said, looking forward then at her, his sunglasses sitting on his forehead. Turning her head in the direction he just looked, she spotted someone familiar and as they walked closer, she recognised the tall figure and her stomach dropped.

"Lewis, hey man! What's good?" Pharrell Williams greeted her husband with a handshake then hug, letting go of Nadia's body for a brief period of time. Nadia couldn't believe the sight in front of her, her idol was chatting it up with her husband.

"And i want you to meet my wife, Nadia. My guardian angel through all this shit." Lewis beamed at her, holding her closer once again to bring her towards Pharrell. "Ah, it's a such an honour to meet you." The man exclaimed, his grillz shining as well. "He's said so many good things about you after the reveal, I was genuinely shocked that you two could keep a secret like this." Pharrell snickered.

Processing the fact that Lewis had spoken about her to her idol and that said idol mentioned that it was an honour, all she could really do was smile and nod. "Well, I'm glad we're finally out now." Nervously chuckling, Nadia tucked her hair behind her ear.

With a light conversation and a few pictures, Pharrell ended off with words that Nadia couldn't believe she just heard. "I hope to see you two in Paris, remember front row and I'll be sure to send some stuff from LV." The older man remarked, slowly walking away as it was almost time for Quali to begin.

Nadia sat with large headphones on her head, Bono's voice occasionally chiming in to Lewis. The screen in front of her showed all the cars racing on track, starting off quite smoothly in Q1. Whenever the camera would pan to her during a pit stop, she would smile or wink, quite literally the only actions she's been able to do this whole weekend.

RACE DAY.

As if it was clockwork, she sat in the same chair with her hands balled up in front of her mouth and her eyebrows furrowed as she watched Car 44 whiz around the track.

Being behind the scenes the day before had truly helped her understand the dynamics of the sport, Nadia's eyes snapping between watching the car drive and the current position he was in. P4 and there were only a few laps left of the race. Miles and Natalia were seated next to her, stressing just as much as Nadia did.

The atmosphere in the garage was tense, only audible sounds being heard in Nadia's ears were the car's engine and occasional groans or cheers from the crowd outside. Feeling all her senses show in anticipation, her clothes felt tighter than they actually were and her hands were shaking as she watched her husband turn the car into the specific corner that has been an issue the whole race.

As the last 2 laps went on, she stood up abruptly as anxiety seeped through her body. Nadia knew it was going to be a good position but seeing Lewis come alive in the final laps could put him anywhere. His car swiftly overtook Alonso’s, the finish line just a few metres away from him and Natalia stood next to her as they all watched Lewis finish the race.

P2.

The cheer that erupted from her was genuine, a few people celebrating all around them with the pit crew giving each other hugs.

“Nadia! Let’s go to the podium!” Rosa exclaimed, a giant smile on her face as she held her hand out. Looking back at Natalia and Miles, they both urged to go. With a grill filled smile on her face, she waved to whichever camera was on her and ran out excitedly with Rosa to where most of the Mercedes team where going to be along with media.

Upon getting to the infamous barrier as they waited for all three winning cars to arrive in parc ferme, Nadia held her head as she expressed her excitement to the woman. Members of the media could see that Nadia was making her way there, her own little paparazzi forming with many questions being asked but Rosa managed to guide her to the very front.

Lewis climbed out of the car, the neon and purple helmet sitting pretty as he walked towards the team doing a little dance on the way. Spotting Nadia first, his grin widened with his eyes closing a bit as he approached her. Once in front of her, Nadia threw arms around him and kissed his open visor, a brown and glossy residue sticking on there. Their eyes locked once and it was such an intimate yet soft moment between the two.

Her eyes filled with pride and happiness and his filled with gratitude for the woman in front of him, a special bond building right in front of the world. Planting the forehead of his helmet with her head, they scrunched their noses as they maintained eye contact with each other, not even realising that they were holding hands.

The moment was shortly interrupted by the noise of fans and the Mercedes team screaming in joy as he moved on to celebrate with them before hurrying to take his weight and get ready to go to the break down room before stepping onto the podium.

Minutes later, the drivers reappeared onto the podium, each one waving at their respective teams along with the crowd. As the English national anthem began, Nadia’s eyes went to the figure of her smiling husband, hands tucked behind him. Looking at the man and not the obscene amount of cameras on her at that moment, Nadia had to remind herself that all this was to benefit their parents’ feelings and to simply help Lewis.

This wasn’t real.

The trophies were being handed to the drivers, Lewis immediately lifting his and pointing to his team then Nadia, winking at her before waving to the screaming crowd. Watching him in his element was never going to get old , that was for sure and thinking about how all this could end one day made her stomach drop, her facade still showing the proud smile as she watched him leave the podium.

At least two hours later, Nadia, Miles and Natalia sat on one of the benches outside the Mercedes hospitality with their ice cold waters in front of them. The two teased Nadia to no end about her meeting Pharrell and how most of the interaction was caught on video by fans, posting on twitter.

“Listen, when you’re a stylist and you see your fav fashion person in real life, you’d scream too.” Nadia laughed as she hid her face in her hands.

“Just saying Nads, the shocked look you gave him when he was about to walk up to you lot was so cute. Gonna get that shit printed.” Natalia joked, earning an eye roll from Nadia.

“Aye! There’s the man of the hour!” Miles exclaimed, watching Lewis walk up to the building with Rosa right next to him, the Mercedes shirt flowing in the light breeze.

Giving his friends their own handshakes, he sat next to Nadia and gave her a fist bump, the two of them giggling right after that. “There’s no way you just fist bumped her?” Miles said, pointing at his friend then Nadia.

“It’s our thing, don’t worry about it bro.” Lewis said , a mischievous smile on his face. “So how was your first race, bruv? Susie said you should try be a team principal.” He asked, turning his body to face her once again.

“My days, Lew! That shit got me on my toes. The numbers took a while to understand but I eventually got it. Also which ones Leclerc?” Nadia asked, looking at the others.

“That one’s Charles. He’s a good one.” Natalia responded.

“Oh okay, he’s cool in my books. Those two red bulls got on my fucking nerves though. Driving like maniacs and that other one almost pushing you off the track?” In all fairness, Nadia was fuming at the thought of it. It was one of the moments that constantly replayed in her mind.

“Oh Perez. They’re okay, just glad I was able to get on podium.” Lewis shrugged his shoulders as he relaxed his arms onto the table. “There are no cameras here, bruv. I don’t fucking like them or that fuck ass team with their team principal. A bunch of pricks.” Nadia cussed, her friends watching her and giggling at her reaction.

“That’s how we feel as well but mr nice guy doesn’t think so. Welcome to the club, babe.” Natalia reached out her hand to Nadia’s. Accepting it, she breathed out and looked at Lewis once again who gave her a little smile.

“Tell those guys to get their shit together or else I’ll deal with them myself. Anyways, your drive was amazing today.” She smiled as if she wasn’t pissed two seconds ago.

“Y’know what, Nads? I totally get it.” Miles said, fist bumping her, adding a little gimmick after it.

“Anyone want ice cream?” Lewis proposed, watching his friends and their interaction, his attention on Nadia and how passionate she felt about the race. His eyes stuck on her the more she spoke about her weekend, her lip gloss from earlier still shining with their interaction at parc ferme replaying in his mind.

nadiahamilton • 14 min. “Miami, you’ve been good!”

taglist: @non-stop-imagines @folkloresthings @tispys-blog @userlando @lorarri @thisismeracing @thatsdemko @myescapefromthislife @slytherinjimin3nthusiast @jamie2305 @like-fire-love-blog @sugardontbesweet @simpfortoomanymen @mauvecherie-writes @queenshikongo3 @eugene-emt-roe @deepgothfiremuffin @18754389 @cherry2stems @anubisnoir @littlelizzies-world @httpsserene @apenasumlug4r @youre-sooooo-funny @eddiesbitch83 @arshiyuh @alika-4466 @peyiswriting @sunfairyy @roseseraj @vsfavs @goldenalbon @mistruscity @tian-monique @hopefulromantic1 (i admire your work sm!)

(if your acc is blank, that mean tumblr couldn’t find you!)

dividers by: @cafekitsune

nadia’s fc: @/unclewaffles on ig!

all pictures are from ig and pinterest!

#☆ ‧₊˚ saint’s media pen #lewis hamilton #formula 1 #f1 #f1 x reader #formula one x black reader #x black fem reader #formula one x reader #x black reader #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton x oc #lewis hamilton fanfics #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fic #f1 x black!reader #f1 x oc #f1 imagines #f1 fanfic

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moremaybank · 1 year

Text

WRONG — r.c

pairing rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary you and rafe have an agreement. just sex, no feelings. (based on the song "wrong" by zayn feat. kehlani)

warnings 18+, mostly smut, unprotected sex, creampie, choking, semi-public sex, handjob, use of restraints (cuffs), switch!rafe i guess?? (reader takes control), language, let me know if i missed any

author’s note finally found a small speck of motivation to write. also i adore this song, so i took the excuse to write a fic based on it

rafe masterlist

oh, we're not in the same place

show me in the same light

feels right when we take flight

clothes off 'cause she's so soft

this ain't a fair fight

i wanna shed light on the subject

i'll get her wetter than ever

four letters are never the question

she likes when i'm messy

and i like when she's undressing

rafe understood your body on an unfathomable level, more than anyone you'd ever given yourself over to. he knew what made you tick. he knew what made your eyes roll back and your legs tremble beyond measure. he knew which spots on your body would make you crumble if he kissed them or scraped his teeth against. with just a filthy sentence whispered into your ear, he would make you submit to him with the snap of a finger.

the two of you fit together perfectly, like a puzzle that had just been completed, with every piece in its rightful place. and this held true with every encounter between the two of you.

"oh, rafe," you mewled as you gripped the edge of the counter you were placed on. your knuckles were sore as you held on tightly, trying to keep yourself in place as rafe fucked you.

you could feel the bass from the blaring music vibrating the house's structures and hear the party-goers right outside. it filled you with an immense thrill as you thought about how all it would take was one person to open the restroom door and catch the two of you in the act.

"that feel good, baby? tell me who knows this pussy best. let me hear it, let everyone in this goddamn party hear it," he gritted through his teeth as his fingers dug into the plush flesh of your thighs. "who makes you feel this fucking good?"

"you, rafe. fuck, right there," you responded.

rafe brought your legs to hook over his muscular shoulders, practically bending you in half as he pummelled into you. one hand found your throat, choking you as he held you upright.

"yeah? you gonna be good and cream all over me, princess? show me how much you wanna make me proud?" he brought a hand down to your clit, rubbing harsh circles onto it as he felt your legs begin to shake against both of his shoulders.

"yes, yes, yes. shit," you gasped, your head leaning against the bathroom counter behind you felt the coil deep in your belly strengthen. you knew you were about to snap, and rafe could feel how close you were as your walls pulsated around him, the grip they had on his cock becoming tighter. "rafe!"

rafe used his grip on your throat to draw your face to his, and he kissed you breathless as you both fell over the edge. he groaned into your mouth as your tongues stroked against each other.

he pulled away, leaning his forehead against your own as he felt his cock unload inside of you. he drew his cock out, watching his cum start to seep out of your entrance, but he was quick to stop it as he stuffed his fingers inside of you, pushing his release back inside you.

you shuddered as his fingers massaged your walls, and you whined at his touch.

"i want you to do something for me, baby," rafe spoke, withdrawing his fingers from you and shoving them inside your mouth so you could taste the mixture of both of your releases. he felt your tongue slither around his digits as you savoured the heavenly concoction. "i want you to go back out there, and let my cum drip down your thighs. that way, if anyone tries to get a look at that sweet little pussy, they'll know i've already claimed it."

but it didn't matter how perfect things were physically between you because the minute you two got entangled with each other, you and rafe made it explicitly clear; it was just about the sex. you craved a deep stress reliever, and rafe craved the same.

and that's all that it was.

you're looking in the wrong place for my love

don't think because you're with me this is real

you're looking in the wrong place for my love

don't stop what you're doing 'cause i like how you're doing it

despite the fact that things between the two of you would never be classified as more than a hook-up, that did nothing to stop you guys from drowning in each other at any given moment. neither of you was looking for love, or even companionship for that matter, but the sex was too good to let go of.

and if there was no viable reason to stop, why would you?

"don't get too attached to this cock, princess. you know what this is," rafe mumbled against your skin. he let his lips adorn the skin of your neck as you rode him in the backseat of your car.

"in your dreams, cameron. i just came here for your dick. nothing else."

"hm, is that so?" he asked, his arms wrapping around your frame tightly, keeping you in place. he began to fuck up into you, the sound of his thighs smacking against the backs of yours and your ass. "you really think any other dick is gonna fuck you this deep?"

you clung to him, your arms wrapped around the back of his neck as you let him plunge against your g-spot. your breath hitched, and you cried out, "don't fucking stop. jesus fucking christ."

that wasn't exactly the answer rafe was expecting, but it still gave him the satisfaction of knowing he was right.

"didn't think so," he smirked to himself as his thrusts became punishing and unrelenting. "no one will ever fuck you as good as i do. remember that."

here with you 'cause you got the right vibe

seems like you probably got a dope mind

but it's gotta be the right time

we're only good for the night time

i see through your demeanor, baby, i'm a pleaser

i go out my way to treat you, but i can't be a teacher

'cause i'm a problem with problems, i know who i am and i'm not no good

you can have me tonight or never, i thought you understood

baby, some people are meant to be loved and others just naked

so take what i'm willing to give and love it or hate it

you and rafe were inexplicable messes, through and through. forever on power trips, you thrived off of being in control and that bled through every shared rendezvous.

"what the fuck do you think you're doing?" rafe questioned, watching as you cuffed each of his wrists to your bedposts. "i thought you understood my rules. i'm the one in charge here."

"you said that. i, however, didn't," you replied, smirking at him. "let me share my rules with you. you're gonna sit here and let me use you in every single way i can think of, and if you behave, maybe i'll even be nice and let you have some fun of your own."

you spat onto your palm and wrapped it around rafe's hard cock. you started to jerk him, taking your time as you watched the fire ignite behind his eyes. his hips stuttered subconsciously, and you used your free hand to keep him from moving.

"this is bullshit. you fucking need me, and you know it," rafe gruffed. "if you don't uncuff me, i swear to god i'll fuck you right into this mattress."

"shhh," you cooed, shushing him with the index finger of your free hand. you kissed him sensually, leaving your lips only millimetres away from his as you mumbled against him. "i'm in control here, baby. and don't get it twisted. i don't need you. i need your cock. there's a difference."

you nipped at his bottom lip, tugging it out and letting it go with a snap as you kept up your motions on his cock. "now are you gonna be quiet and let me fuck you until you're begging to cum or not?"

he nodded, and you hovered over his hips, allowing yourself to sink onto his cock.

"you feel so fucking good, rafe. so deep, shit."

you started to roll your hips, letting every inch of his thick length massage your cunt's walls. he filled you up in a savorous manner, and it made your mouth water. you could feel him everywhere; in the tips of your fingers and toes, throughout your arms and legs, in your chest, hell, in your damn throat. he surrounded you, overwhelmingly so, but in the best way possible.

"f-fuck," he moaned, slumping against the headboard as you rose to your feet and started to bounce up and down on his cock. your walls were so velvety and warm and wet, you felt like ecstasy wrapped around him, and he could no longer focus on the lack of control he possessed in that moment.

you were like a drug, unlike any other one he'd ever tried, and you were ten times more addictive. he wasn't sure how he would ever overcome the vice-gripped chokehold you and your pussy had on him.

you took every opportunity to remind him that you only wanted one thing from him, and you were also sure to put him in his place. you could take control of the situation just as easily as he could, and you would never let him forget it.

i don't, i don't really know

i don't, i don't really care

maybe keep it on the low

stories that i don't wanna share

it was simple; less talking, more fucking.

you didn't care about what had him so worked up or angry whenever he came by to see you, and vice-versa. there was no need for small talk or chit-chat. all you craved was a release.

rafe would use your body and do whatever he pleased. he'd take you any time, anywhere. edging you until you cried for him. fucking you until all you could do was let him fuck him to his cock's content. slurping and lapping at your cunt until you physically couldn't take anymore.

and you would ride him until he was whimpering and begging for a break. your hand would stay wrapped around his throat, keeping his heated gaze locked on yours as you brought him to your mercy as many times as you wished. sucking his cock, letting him touch the back of your throat and allowing him to feel you gag around him as you chose his dick over the oxygen vital for your survival.

neither of you cared about what lay underneath the surface or what pushed you so far that you needed to search for physical solace in the other's body.

none of that other stuff mattered. what did matter was that you were able to blow off some steam with no limits regarding how you did so.

rafe tag list (join here!): @rafesmuse @rafesdior @maybankslover @softsatnin @obxjjpouge @outerbankspov @skydisneylover @elijahssuit @kenzi-woycehoski @alexxavicry @kanib45 @princessbetsy123-blog @dudenhaaa27 @houseofperfecttaste

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron one shot #rafe outer banks #outer banks #outer banks x reader #outer banks smut #outer banks imagine #outer banks one shot #rafe obx #obx #obx x reader #obx smut #obx imagine #obx one shot #drew starkey #Spotify

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kitten4sannie · 1 year

Text

2 - ꜱᴏᴍɴᴏᴘʜɪʟɪᴀ - ꜱᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ

ɢʀᴏᴜᴘɪᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ

part 2

pairing: guitarist! seonghwa x fem! reader feat. lead singer! san (he’s just there so there’s no smut involving him…yet 👀)

genre: band au, smut, angst that lasts for a split second

summary: you'd do anything for your favorite guitarist.

w.c: 2.1k

warnings: alcohol use, dom! seonghwa, sub! reader, free use, jealousy, dirty talk, fingering, marking, somnophilia, unprotected sex, creampie

a/n: i've always wanted to write a band au so i was vibrating the entire time i wrote this fdhfshf. oh also i'm not going to be reblogging all the nice feedback i get during FFF only bc i don't want people's feeds to constantly be filled up with my replies yk? but i’ll respond to them in the comment section <3

FFF Masterlist

✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖

You’ve always been particularly drawn to the guitarist of a band. Sure, the lead singer was always cocky, full of himself, shameless, but usually had the charm and the looks to back it up. The bassist was usually kind, down to earth, and sweet most of the time. The drummer was confident and robust. But the guitarist…the guitarist was always something else — especially from your all-time favorite band: Paradigm Glitch.

Seonghwa was charming, so much so that he had you like a puppy on an invisible leash, always willing to answer his every beck and call. He had a ton of passion and fever, especially when it came to his beliefs. He was beyond beautiful, always catching your attention with his stark raven hair, his intense gaze, and his striking features. And of course, he was very, very good with his hands. You could go on and on, but your favorite band member would be starting a set soon.

“Y/N, put one leg up and spread your cunt open. Lemme get a better look,” Seonghwa commanded in a gruff voice, swinging his guitar strap around so that his guitar hung upside down off his back.

You leaned against the wall, glancing around the corner of the hallway, hearing some employees and his other band members grumbling about not being able to find Seonghwa for the nth time. “Hwa, you should just…”

“You’re the one who suggested free use,” he tsked, raking a hand through his hair, the silver jewelry hanging around his wrist jingling with his movement. “I said to put your leg up and spread your pretty cunt for me. So do it.”

You brought your leg up onto the extra speaker sitting on the floor next to you and lifted your skirt to show that you were going commando like usual, using your thumbs to spread your lips apart. "Like this, Hwa?"

"Mm, good girl," the guitarist praised huskily, immediately sliding two digits into you up to the knuckles, his various-sized rings stretching you out and offering you a pleasurable burning sensation. He buried his face in your neck, breathing in your flowery perfume, his plush lips attaching to your soft skin to leave a mark. He preferred to mark what was his.

Due to being a skilled guitarist after years and years of playing, his calloused fingers always brought you to a place of euphoria you could never reach without his help. He had you gripping the rough material of his jacket, barely able to contain your moans, your legs shaking beneath you.

"Gonna cum..." you exhaled weakly, your voice barely making it out of your dry throat.

"Cum, then." Seonghwa continued pounding his fingers into you, slipping in a third and eagerly rubbing your g-spot, your arousal eventually spilling out onto the concrete floor below.

"Hwa...! Oh my god!"

After bringing his cum-coated fingers up to his lips to clean them, Seonghwa grabbed your chin and gave your jaw a kiss, leaving your essence on your skin. “I’ll see you later, baby," he cooed into your ear, walking away and leaving you breathless like he always did.

You stood in the corner of the tour bus, downing a bottle of dark beer, surrounded by tons of loud, drunken people that you didn’t know or cared to know.

“Y/N, hey,” San, the lead singer of the band, addressed you, leaning against the wall beside you and prodding your side with his elbow. “Why do you look so sad, huh?”

Wiping your mouth, you glanced over at him, your hazy eyes focusing on his lip ring, before looking across the bus at Seonghwa, who had his arms around two fans. “Seonghwa hasn’t talked to me all night. He’s too busy entertaining those whores over there.”

San chuckled, grabbing a cold beer from a guy nearby, popping off the cap, and replacing your old one, prompting you to take a few long swigs. “Can you really blame him?”

You shot him a fiery look, muttering, “I should be his whore. Not them.”

San licked his lips, unconsciously prodding his piercing with the tip of his tongue. “That’s hot. Since he’s so busy, want to give me a ride?”

Though San was attractive — insanely attractive at that, you were far too focused on Seonghwa. You wanted him. Needed him. But you weren't about to beg for it. “Maybe next time, San.”

He leaned close to your ear, his breath hitting your skin. “Promise you’ll let me put a baby in you?”

You almost choked on the bitter liquid, but swallowed it down anyway. “Why would you want to do that?”

He shrugged. “I like filling up whores with my cum. Is there something wrong with that?”

San didn't have a filter. He said exactly what he was thinking. Did whatever he wanted. This showed up in his lyrics, his raw vocals, and his facial expressions, mesmerizing everyone in the crowd. This way of life especially affected his behavior while up on stage. You couldn't even keep track of how many guitars he smashed during this tour alone.

Being reminded of how incredibly hot San was, you were almost tempted to backtrack and take him up on his offer, but when Seonghwa eyed you from across the room and gave you a crooked smile, your mind was made up.

“I gotta go…” you mumbled, taking a big swig of the beer and pushing it into the lead singer’s broad chest, walking away into the sea of people.

“Damn.” To distract himself from his bruising ego, San tilted his head back and chugged down the rest of your beer. Wiping his mouth, he turned to his left to start a conversation with a few girls that had been eye-fucking him since he got on the bus.

Fueled by jealousy and desire, you walked up to Seonghwa and ran a manicured finger along the curve of your neck, where he had left his mark on you. “Want to give me another one of these, Hwa?”

Despite the two girls almost fuming at your forward question, Seonghwa chuckled, rubbing a bit of smeared mascara from one of his eyelids. “I always do, baby. I’ll be paying you a visit later on tonight, okay?”

You folded your arms across your chest. “Later on?”

“Mm-hmm. I’m kinda busy right now." He motioned with his head to one of the girls, encouraging them to give you a smug look and lean closer to him just to spite you.

You rolled your eyes, mumbling, “Whatever,” looking as unbothered as humanly possible, before heading back into the crowd and grabbing a random bystander’s beer, taking a swig of it.

Seonghwa watched you disappear in the flow of people, blowing a bit of air out of his nose, smiling softly to himself. He always found your messiness to be endearing, rather than concerning. He was a rockstar, after all. He did a lot worse things himself: participated in illicit drug use, got into a worrying amount of bar fights, and hosted way too many orgies to even count, so who was he to judge you for being so attached to him?

You weaved past drunk strangers and people that might’ve been inside of each other, eventually pushing past a door that led to the deluxe bunk section. You walked up to of one the tip bunks that Seonghwa used and pulled the privacy curtain to the side, not expecting to see San tangled up around both of the girls, his hair messy as all hell, his shirt off and tossed onto the corner of the mattress, and streaks of red lipstick littered all across his melanin skin. That was the final straw.

He turned his head back in your direction, slowly pulling his fingers out of the girl’s mouth, giving you a nervous smile. “I was jus–”

“Just get out of here and go fuck on your own bed!” you cut him off with a brief command, pointing in the direction of San’s bunk with your beer, trying to do it as menacingly as possible. “I don’t want to hear your dumbass excuse.”

San sighed softly, getting off of the bed with his t-shirt in his hand, about to follow the girls that were heading in the direction you pointed, but stopping near you. “I got a load with your name on it, Y/N. Just say the word.” Amused by the shock that overtook your blushing face, he patted your shoulder and walked past you, about to dive into his bed.

He really was something else, you had to admit, but your mind was still focused solely on Seonghwa. You kicked off your shoes, chugged the beer and tossed it into the trash, then collapsed dramatically onto the mattress, falling asleep after a few minutes of ruminating.

Pulling yourself out of a dream, it took you a few seconds to realize what was happening. You heard the springs in the bed squeaking underneath you first, then you felt the pressure and heavy weight of something incredibly hot sliding in and out of you. Not only that, but your thighs ached a bit where something was squeezing into them.

“God, baby, you’re so tight even in your sleep…” Seonghwa sighed, gripping your thighs and spreading them farther apart, gazing down at your half-naked body. He hunched over you, his pants dropping past his upper thighs, his loose tank top hanging low enough to give you a view of his sweat-covered chest, breathing heavily as though he had been going at it for quite a while.

"Seong...hwa..." You opened your eyes, gazing up at the man with stars in your glossy eyes, wrapping your arms around him, holding him close to you. "Please...."

"Please, what?" He brought his lips to your neck, sucking and biting at your sensitive skin, taking pleasure in the moans and whimpers you let out.

"Harder, Hwa..."

"Yeah?" Seonghwa pulled himself away from your bruising neck to sit up, lifting your lower half up from the mattress, beginning to pound into you at a deeper angle, hearing you gasp, your face contorting from the pleasure. "Mm, just like that, huh, baby? You like it right there?"

"Yes, fuck yes...!" you moaned out, your lower-half pulsing and almost trembling from how close you were to cumming. "Oh god, I'm gonna cum, Hwa..."

He pressed his lips to your cheek, just beside your lips, murmuring, "Shhh, you don’t want to wake the other members, do you? Or do you want them to hear you cumming for me?”

You shook your head, a bit of drool leaving your the corner of your mouth. “I don’t care if they hear, Hwa…They should know I’m yours…”

“Mm, then cum with me," he commanded in a shaky tone, his hips suddenly smacking into yours at a rapid speed, overwhelming you in the process and making you unravel just before he did.

"Hwa..." You ran your fingers through his damp raven hair, simply admiring his beauty, as he slowly rode out his orgasm, still sliding in and out of you.

"Don't look at me like that, baby..." he whispered, pulling out of you and laying down beside you, giving your temple a small kiss. "I'll fall in love."

You didn't say anything back, instead burying your face into the crook of his neck, slipping your fingers back into his hair, stroking the ends of it. It wouldn't be fair to take him away from so many adoring fans, only because you knew you wouldn't be able to handle having to share him with everyone if he was yours one day.

You both laid there for a while, the buzzing of your brains and bodies eventually fading away, prompting you to break the silence, your lips forming a pout. "Can you fuck me when I'm awake next time? I want to see you. And I want to feel everything you're doing to me..."

Seonghwa ran his fingers through your equally damp hair, bringing his mouth to your neck to give you another mark, mumbling against your skin, "But you did feel everything. Even in your sleep, you were moaning and whining my name."

Your cheeks flushed with color, wondering if you were saying his name simply because you always seemed to dream about him. "Can you wake me up tomorrow the exact same way?"

He clutched your chin, bringing his lips to your jaw to kiss you in the same spot he always did. "What kind of question is that, baby?"

✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

FFF: @hwalysm @scuzmunkie @creativechaoticloner @dilucpegg3r @yeosxxx @gemjimin @wonwowzers

#ateez #ateez smut #seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa smut #seonghwa x reader #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #seonghwa x you #ateez x y/n #seonghwa x y/n #kpop smut #atz #ateez x you #ateez fanfiction #ateez oneshot #february filth fest

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wizardfrog69 · 1 year

Note

What about sigma, mykola and fedya getting a morning wood and having a gn reader help them out👀👀 (headcanons) thank you hun

I'm gonna assume that the they are supposed to be hard when they woke up cuz idk what morning wood means, if I got it wrong you can just explain it more clearly and I'll write it then, I'm sorry if I misinterpreted what you said. Thank you for the request tho! :)

'•.¸♡ did you have a nice dream? ♡¸.•'

Gn!reader

Nsfw

Please if you don't feel comfortable with nsfw/nsft content do not read this

Feat. Sigma, Nikolai, Fyodor.

Sigma

Sigma was moving in his sleep and softly moaning out your name, you were awake at this point and not wanting to wake him up you just lay there and admiring the fact that he dreams about you not only during the day but also at night.

When Sigma woke up he was slightly embarrassed remembering the dream he had just moments before and realising you were awake and could feel his hard dick made him even more embarrassed.

"Did you have a nice dream dear?" You asked in a slightly seductive voice.

Sigma was speechless and didn't know how to respond to your inquiry, did you hear him?

'Would you like me to help you with that boner?'

He nodded as he could feel you hand stroking him over his sleeping wear making the pink tint on his face to deepen in colour.

You pushed the cover away and pushed down his pants and bowers with one swift motion and out sprung his dick, free for the eye to see.

You lowered down to kiss the tip while keeping eye contact with him, then you started sucking just the tip to tease him a bit, you could Sigma getting impatient so you started to go in fully bopping your head up and down.

Sigma came quite quickly, and into your mouth without a warning. You pulled your head up and swallowed most of his kiss and kissed him, forcing him to taste himself in your mouth.

Nikolai

He's more, how do I say, open about having a wet dream? Basically if he woke up with a boner you will definitely feel it, either on side of you thigh between your legs.

If you wake up first you can see a slight smile on his lips while his eyes move about. Once he wakes up and sees you're awake he'll casually mention his dreams and what you were doing.

He won't ask you to do the same things but atleast help him out a little yk.

After much or no convincing at all he got you on board and you agreed to giving him a morning hand job for good luck.

Don't be surprised if his pants are already off when you move the blanket to reveal his dick as hard as a rock pointing to the sky.

You slide your hand down to meet his cock, it only twitches from your touch and Nikolai's smirk only widens.

You wrap your fingers around his dick and start moving with a slow pace at first but gradually increasing the pace as only seconds pass.

Soon his pretty moans fill the room while you admire his pretty face, he softly grabbed you by your hair and pulled you up to his face to kiss him, once you placed your lips on his you could feel something wet trickling down your hand

Fyodor

Fyodor never moved while asleep so when you woke up with him ever so softly moaning in your ear with one of his hands on your thigh you were quite surprised, was he awake? But upon inspecting his form closely you could be sure he was asleep.

Why he was acting in such a way you couldn't even begin to imagine but it all came to light when fyodor woke up. When he woke up a sly smirk crawled across his face when he saw you staring at him with a faint hint of a blush across your cheeks, he remembered his dream well and what you did for him in that dream, his assumption was that you heard him maybe moan your name softly in his sleep onec or twice so he wanted to put that into use.

Fyodor's hand edged closer to your waist and his hips closer to yours, his goal? To get you to 'help him deal with his problem' and this could only be archived by you being obedient and doing what he so nicely demands of you.

He told you to suck him off and maybe he'll repay the favour later on.

You were kneeling infront of him and his dick which was ready for you to take it in your mouth and wait for you to suck the living he'll out of it till he could no longer feel it, and that is what you attempted to do anyway, your tongue and mouth did wonders for the man infront even if he didn't show it much.

After a while of hair pulling and mouth fucking, fyodor came into your mouth while his dick was deep inside your throat, you swear you could have chocked on all that cum but you've managed to survive while his cum seeped from your mouth, you tried swallowing everything you were given.

༺♡༻ 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 ⋆ 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 ༺♡༻

I actually like how this one came out, I just have a lot of requests to work on so my requests will be closed but I'm hoping not for long.

Have a great day/night!

-with love, Az the wizard frog.

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comradekatara · 6 months

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hello, I’ve been thinking about Sokka in the finale and was wondering about your take I suppose? Or perhaps I just need to express this.

Sokka being a tactician rather than a warrior is a wonderful way to end his arc. Trusting two women who are, objectively, stronger in combat, while also being a guide & leader wow great love it.

And it’s great how he protects Toph. But I also think about how at the beginning Sokka is primed to die for Katara, and at the end he’s in the same self-sacrificial position. I don’t think this is bad writing but it kinda sucks for him lmao. His most triumphant moment is still one where it’s his job to die first.

It’s also interesting how this mirrors Zuko, who also self-sacrifices as a part of the completion of his arc. The way they’re both so willing to die is part of what makes Zukka compelling to me. But also! I wonder if Sokka would be jealous of Zuko being able to almost die for Katara.

I don’t think Sokka would think of it that way, but I can imagine his self-hate for almost letting Toph die, and then look! He wasn’t even there to die for Katara! Someone else had to do it! And maybe Zuko is a fine option if it’s not Sokka, but I don’t think its would be easy for Sokka to accept.

I don’t think he would know why he was angry, either. He’d just be mixed up with frustration and helplessness and probably concern for Zuko, too, and irritation at how stupid it was for Zuko to challenge Azula to an Agni Kai. God I hope they don’t break up over it.

okay, wow. a lot of interesting points here. i'm gonna try to respond to them in order (and number each paragraph so you can follow each point better).

1 while i would of course say that suki and toph both have unique strengths as fighters, i wouldn't discount sokka's skill either. yes, he is first and foremost a tactician who uses strategic maneuvering to win battles, and learning to prioritize his brains over his brawn is a huge facet of his arc, but crucially, he learns this first from suki, whose technique is all about strategic maneuvering against stronger opponents, and toph's fighting style is also about finding creative uses for her earthbending, instead of relying on feats of strength like the other earthbenders we see throughout the series. i would say that in this sense, toph, sokka, and suki are all quite evenly matched. they each have skills the other does not (arguably toph's skills are the most impressive, but sokka's accuracy with a boomerang and suki's little flippity flips – i.e., her abs of steel – in "the boiling rock" deserve acknowledgment).

of course, it's valuable that sokka trusts toph and suki entirely, and not solely because it reflects his implicit respect for girls as warriors (because like, we covered that at the very beginning of the series), but because it means he can overcome his control freak tendencies to delegate and trust others to be competent and succeed, which also means trusting that if they fail or choose to sacrifice themselves, it's not directly his fault (something he learns in "the boiling rock"). and of course toph and suki are probably the two people (who aren't directly related to him) he trusts, loves, and admires the most, which is what makes their team-up as a trio in the finale so lovely.

2 i actually think there's something really beautiful and poignant about the circularity of sokka's arc. as you say, it's a near-identical situation. sokka is faced down by fire nation soldiers, the only person in a position to fight back, while responsible for the safety and life of his little sister, and even though he puts up a valiant effort, he still must be saved by a third party who swoops in at the very last moment to save him before he bites it. in "the avatar returns," sokka's choice to die a martyr (in his mind) will finally fulfill his existential goal of protecting katara (which, again, in his mind, means doing for her what kya did), whereas now his existential goal is ending the war. either way, he is dying for his cause. the thing is, when aang returns to fight zuko, suddenly a new cause motivates sokka: to help the avatar. but now that the war is over, sokka's goals become less concrete. he must suddenly live past the end of his myth, which as we all know, is a perilous thing.

and as i've talked about before, i think this would motivate him to try and do everything he possibly can, because he no longer has one singular defined path, so to prove that he is worthy of existence he must now exercise control over everyone. as much as he trusts toph and suki and katara and aang and zuko (to an extent), i think his control freak tendencies would nonetheless be exacerbated by the end of the war, because instead of just imposing control on their little group to make sure they stay on schedule etc. etc., he now has the opportunity to impose control over the entire world. postwar sokka is kind of a nightmare i'm afraid.

3 i think it's important to remember that sokka doesn't really get angry, he gets guilty. unlike katara, zuko, or even aang, sokka only really gets angry if he thinks someone is incompetent and/or evil. but mostly, when he internalizes his emotions, he doesn't lash out with rage, he points that anger inwards, feels as if he is the one at fault, even if the situation was not remotely in his control. i don't think sokka would be remotely mad at zuko for what he did. he might think zuko was stupid for what he did ("couldn't katara have just run out of the way?"), but he'd also be infinitely grateful. i think sokka would be furious at zuko had the reverse happened and katara been injured in any way – oh, then he would tear zuko to pieces. but zuko risking his life for katara (although i think in zuko's mind he expected he'd be fine and that he could just redirect the lightning in midair, but he'd never admit that to anyone ever, so.) would only make sokka feel guilty that someone else had to perform his duty.

i think a big problem for sokka after the war would be that now that he has all these different paths to follow, he cannot be in every location at once (being a man means knowing where you're needed the most, but what if you're needed everywhere??? what then???), and he cannot know every single piece of information implicitly. the fact that he had to be at the airship fleet meant that he had to trust that zuko and katara would be successful in their mission. and he clearly does trust them, but i imagine there's also a part of him wracked with fear over their fates the entire time that they're split up, especially because if katara isn't okay, that means that he failed and he wasn't even there. so yeah, i think he'd feel a mix of gratitude and guilt that zuko performed his big brother duties in sokka's place. but i don't think he'd be angry at zuko.

4 sokka's self-hate for almost letting toph die is so real though. yeah "the boiling rock" teaches him to let himself rely on others and not take every single failure so personally, and suki is especially significant in that regard for how she represents someone who is sokka's peer who can rescue him but also be rescued by him. and all that, thematically speaking, is very important and lovely. but he still hates himself for not doing more. which is of course crazy, because he literally used a boomerang and threw his sword with only one working arm and a broken leg while basically hanging off a falling ledge in the sky to kill two men, but sokka is crazy, so there's no way he's satisfied upon being told that he did all he can do. his limits are his failures. and if he can't even protect his best friend, then what is he good for?

i actually think that if toph hadn't been there to ground him, he would have been less concerned with staying alive, that he only held on for so long because he wanted to keep toph alive. when sokka tells toph that "it looks like this is the end," toph, understandably, starts to cry, but sokka only really seems sad at the idea that toph is about to die. he's not crying, why would he be? this is probably how he's always imagined his own death in his wildest fantasies (yes, if katara fantasizes about revenge, sokka fantasizes about dying, you know it's true). if sokka is crucial to helping toph recognize and accept her own vulnerability, toph helps sokka stay grounded to his humanity (and obviously aang and others perform these function for both parties as well, but sokka and toph's friendship is a really beautiful, special thing). and that means that sokka is excited to be saved by suki specifically because it means that she also saved toph. but there must also be a part of sokka after the war that's thinking "in the end, zuko saved katara, suki saved toph, some giant spirit creature saved aang........ what am i even good for?" because if there's one thing sokka's brain loves to do, it's reinforce his own worthlessness.

5 "god i hope they don't break up over it" was pretty funny to me, because i honestly think that if they ever get together (and jury's still out for me on that tbh) it would take a good decade. but also i recognize that the way i "ship zukka" is different from how everyone else feels about/imagines them, so that's not really relevant here.

#would it surprise you that i do in fact think about this all the time #you guys rly love enabling me huh #asks #dejaentends #put it under the cut even though i have way longer posts i didn't add readmores to. im unpredictable im crazy idk #sokka #toph #suki #zuko #katara #katara&sokka #sokka&toph #sokkaxsuki #sokkaxzuko #(kinda)#analysis #GODDDDD..... i love.........psychoanalyzing sokka...... peeling the onion....... he has LAYERS DONKEY!!!!!

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karahalloway · 8 months

Text

(Less Than) Noble Intentions: Chapter 15 - Not Without Obligation

Fandom: TRR

Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)

Series Summary: The social season may be over, but Harper Gale’s problems are just beginning. With everyone at court a potential suspect, can she and Drake survive the engagement tour and get to the bottom of the plot against her and clear her name? An AU take of TRR2 featuring my OTP - Harper & Drake.

Masterlist: (Less Than) Noble Intentions

Chapter Summary: Harper gets a surprise visit from Christian... but are his intentions sincere?

Word Count: 2,800 (short for me, I know enjoy it while you can 😆)

Rating/Warnings: M (swearing, angst, possible ulterior motives)

Chapter theme song:

A/N: I know it's been more than a hot minute since I've updated this series! 😅 This is in part because I got sidetracked by Sleepless in New York also on my list to finish, I know, and then I took most of the summer off from writing. But also in part because I kinda got stuck on how to actually continue with this series... but, I now have a plan! *rubs hands together gleefully* and you ain't gonna like it, sorry, not sorry. So, with this long-awaited installment, I hope to be back in my usual groove and will be posting with some semblance of regularity again. Thanks so much for bearing with me!

A/N2: This is also my submission for @choicesseptemberchallenge2023 Day 25 Prompt - Secret, Surprise I’m only 2 days late

Chapter 15 - Not Without Obligation

Making my way back to my room, I try to push down the conflicting emotions that are roiling inside of me.

On one hand, I get where Drake is coming from, and why he shut the door in my face. We are no longer alone in Applewood and even the faintest whiff of impropriety could implode the carefully strategised work that the royal PR team has put in to try and resuscitate my public image.

And me getting caught outside of the room of a guy who not only is not Christian, but who I have no justifiable reason for seeking out at the butt-crack of dawn in the first place, would definitely scupper the assertion that I'm not a two-timing hussy. Especially since I rushed out of my room earlier wearing nothing more than a t-shirt and panties.

Mitigating factors, they are not.

But while the rational part of my brain knows that Drake is only trying to look out for me, I can't help but feel a pang of dejection at the abruptness with which he — very literally — shut me out, even though he promised yesterday that he wouldn't do something like that to me again.

Because God knows that it had been hard enough to get him to open up the first time!

And even though I'm not expecting him to have completely reversed his habitudes overnight, I guess I'd been hoping that our conversation in the barn would've prompted some kind of step in the desired direction.

Because it's clear that the bruises on my neck unnerved him. The turmoil on his face had made that clear. As the marks are not just some haphazard side-effect of our frantic love-making. They are a very real and visible reminder of the tangible strength of his feelings — and the fact that he lost control of them.

And as much as I understand the knee-jerk cause of his reaction, the last thing I want — or need — right now is for Drake to distance himself from me because he's scared of hurting me again.

That, I could not cope with.

"Demoiselle," nods Allard as I arrive back at my room.

I flash him a distracted smile on auto-pilot. He saw and heard what happened. There is no point rehashing anything. Especially since this isn't something he or Schweitzer can help with.

The weight of my Guard's concerned gaze flick over me as I shuffle past, but they both remain silent, no doubt sensing that I'm not in the mood for conversation.

Shutting the door behind me, I close my eyes as I lean back against the solidness of the wood.

Why are things never simple 'round here?

I really wish Drake and I could've taken a moment to talk things through. Because today's Apple Harvest Festival is expected to see hundreds of people descend onto Applewood to not only celebrate this year's bountiful crop of Cordonian Rubies, but to also catch a glimpse of the new King and his future Queen.

And if I thought that cornering Drake at the apple pick had been hard, the chances of being able to do so today are going to be slim to none.

But the rest of the week doesn't offer any better options because tomorrow we're off to Italy, where we'll likely have even less opportunity for privacy given the high-profile and international nature of the coming engagements.

My eyes snap open. I have to talk to him now.

As much as Drake may be concerned about protecting what's left of my image, I'm not going to let him use the inconvenience of our circumstances as an excuse to hide behind his insecurities or erect walls between us. Because the hard truth is that there's never going to be a good time to talk unless we make time.

Which is exactly what I am going to do, possible scandal be damned. I cannot let a tenuous fear borne out of a possible public backlash hold me back. My relationship with Drake is worth infinitely more to me than whatever garbage the paps may decide to print because some aristo decided to tattle on me if I get caught sneaking back into his room.

Because, let's face it. Even if I do end up on the front pages tomorrow (for all the wrong reasons), the fact of the matter is that any photo, any situation — no matter how sordid or innocent — can be spun any which way.

I've learnt that the hard way. So, I may as well use it to my own advantage for once.

Pushing myself away from the door, I march into my walk-in closet with renewed determination. Pulling the t-shirt that I'd slept in over my head, I quickly throw on a bra, some jean shorts and a black tank top.

Slotting my bare feet into my well-worn Sketchers, I make my way over to the French doors that lead out onto balcony so I can try to figure out the best way to scamper over to Drake's room without killing myself, given that I stand a better chance of slipping under the aristo's nosy radar via the balcony than going back through the corridor.

Hopefully, I can—

Tap, tap tap.

I stop mid-stride at the sound of knocking coming from the other side of my door.

Turning around, I contemplate whether I should respond, or pretend that I hadn't heard.

I have precious little time if I want to catch Drake before he disappears on me to do... whatever it is that he does in the mornings before the start of a royal event.

So, if I want to make it to his room, I need to go now before he finishes getting dressed.

But, then again, there is only a very small number of people at court who'd come directly to my room to talk to me. Especially at this time in the morning.

So, it could be important. It could be about Tariq...

...it could be Drake.

The latch clicks open.

I glance anxiously back towards the balcony, trying to decide if I should—

"May I come in?"

I whirl around in surprise at the sound of the unexpected voice. "Christian!"

He pokes his head 'round the door. "I... I didn't catch you in a state of undress, did I?"

"No! No... I was already dressed," I admit, trying to be as casual as possible as I quickly brush my hair over my shoulders in a haphazard attempt to try and cover up the bruises, given that I hadn't thought to slather any cover-up over myself yet.

Christian definitely doesn’t need to be asking questions about those!

"Ah, good!" he responds, stepping fully into the room and closing the door behind him. "You're an early riser, like myself."

"You can thank the Beaumonts," I mutter under my breath, glancing guiltily back toward the balcony.

So much for stealing a much-needed moment with Drake...

"I apologise for the intrusion," Christian continues, crossing the space between us, "especially at such an early hour. But I was hoping to catch you alone before the start of the Apple Harvest Festival."

One word catches my attention. "A-Alone...?"

He comes to a stop in front of me. "Very much so."

Anxiety flares in the pit of my stomach as Drake's words from yesterday swirl through my mind.

...he's trying to win you back.

And it suddenly hits me that I haven't been alone — truly alone — with Christian since the day of the Jamboree. When he took me into the hedge maze and offered me a duchy.

My mind starts to whirl.

Had that been the start of this... crusade? The fact that I turned him down? Does he still think he can change my mind? Is he simply incapable of accepting 'no' as an answer?

I force my gaze up to meet his.

His emerald green eyes behold me calmly, with maybe a hint of excitement. But I cannot read his intention.

"Wh-why?" I finally blurt out.

A smile spreads across his face. "To bestow upon you your letters patent, of course!"

I gape at him. "My letters of what?"

He chuckles good-naturedly at my evident confusion. "Letters patent. Itis a type of royal decree that formally confers some manner of privilege onto the names designee — an office of state, a coat of arms, a commercial monopoly... or, in this case, your new title as Duchess of Valtoria."

With a flourish, he pulls out a small, leather-bound box that he's been hiding behind his back.

I stare at it mutely.

"It won't bite, I promise," he assures me wryly.

Reaching up with a tepid smile, I accept the box, which is a lot heavier than it looks.

Opening it up, I find a medieval-looking document nestled in the lid, complete with densely-packed Chancery script and and a historiated initial C embossed with the stylised image of the Cordonian royal crest.

Peering at the text — which I can only assume is an archaic form of French — I can just about make out the odd word, like my name, Christian's name, and Valtoria. But the rest remains completely incomprehensible.

Presumably some grand declarations about the bestowal...

In the bottom part of the box rests a cream-coloured envelope also bearing the Cordonian royal crest, along with my name, though this time written in delicate cursive lettering.

"What's this?" I ask Christian, lifting the letter up.

"Your papers of naturalisation," he informs me. "Along with your new passport and ID card."

I glance up at him in surprise. "I am now a Cordonian citizen?"

"It would not have been possible to issue the letters patent otherwise," he says. "Even a king must abide by the diktats of the law."

"I... don't need to sign anything?"

"The US Consulate was very accommodating, given the unique nature of the circumstances."

My stomach twists unexpectedly. "Oh..."

Dual citizenship is a good thing, right?

Returning my attention to the box, I see that the envelope has been concealing a large, intricate-looking seal bearing what appears to be the stylised outline of a rampant phoenix, next to which sits a signet ring with the same image.

"Does it meet expectations?" asks Christian.

"I'm not sure I know what I'd been expecting..." I admit, running a finger over the lines of the mythical bird, marvelling at the level of detail that's been put into creating such a realistic rendering, complete with individual licks of flame spouting from the tail feathers.

"Any egregious spelling errors?"

"Not that I can see," I admit, glancing up at him. "But—"

"Excellent!" he declares, reaching over the lid of the box to deftly pluck the signet ring out from its nest of blue silk.

Before I have a chance to react, he's clasped my hand in his to poise the heavy circlet of gold at the tip of my ring finger.

"Wait!" I gasp in the face of the unexpectedly intimate turn of events. "What are you—?"

"It would be remiss of me if I did not verify the correctness of the sizing," he advises, meeting my panicked gaze calmly.

"You don't need t—"

"It would be my pleasure," he insists, slipping the ring onto the digit before I can protest further.

As he withdraws his hand, my eyes fall onto the spot where the cool metal's unfamiliar weight now encircles the base of my finger.

"Perfect," Christian declares with a satisfied smile, brushing his thumb over the phoenix insignia.

I stare at the band with an uneasily mix of feelings swirling in my chest. "Christian, I—"

"Let's celebrate, shall we?" he announces, pulling back to click his fingers with a decisive snap.

On cue, the door behind Christian swings open to admit a veritable procession of servants bearing ice buckets, champagne, crystal flutes and tiny servings of finger food.

"Wait..." I stammer in the face of organised onslaught. "They were waiting outside this whole time?"

"I may have take a page out of your party planning book," he admits with a grin while the industrious staff set about transforming my bedroom into a first-class tea room. "Seeing the success you had with Drake on his birthday, I thought I would try my hand at surprising you on this important day."

"And that's great, but I never agreed—"

"Didn't you?" Christian asks with a level look as he nabs a miniature scone from the tray of a passing server.

I shake my head. "No, I—"

"Because I specifically recall you giving your unambiguous consent at yesterday's apple pick to proceed with finalising your new status," he states, taking a bite out of the pastry.

I open my mouth, but promptly shut it as the conversation from the orchard floats back into my consciousness.

"...having the paperwork squared away before our departure would grant significant boon for your image."

"Oh. Okay..."

"Oh, fuck..." I mutter as the cold hand of hindsight clamps down on the nape of my neck.

Christian had obviously mischaracterised my somewhat dazed reaction as some kind of explicit affirmation.

And since Drake's appearance yesterday had interrupted the conversation at that key moment, I never had a chance to correct the misunderstanding.

But I need to. Because once again, Christian has taken matters into his own hands and acted without my my prior agreement or approval t. Just like he had done when he decided to send me away during the Coronation Ball, only to then bring me back to court as his mistress, not to mention spring an actual duchy on me without any warning.

And while his heart's probably been in the right place each and every time, I'm not sure that I can cope with any more bolts from the blue.

Especially when they so drastically upend my life.

Heaving a breath, I look back up at the King of Cordonia again. "Look, Christian, I really appreciate all of this, but I think there's been a major—"

The loud bang! of the champagne bottle shooting its cork across the room makes me jump.

Turning around, I can see that the gold-coloured liquid is already in the process of being dispensed into a pair of waiting crystal flutes.

"I hope you like this Moët & Chandon Imperial Vintage 1946 that I had picked out," Christian murmurs, brushing a hand over the small of my back. "It is an exceptional cuvée with notes of citrus, apple and pear — an apt combination, I thought, given the occasion."

"Because of the pear trees in Valtoria..." I surmise heavily, watching a footman bring over a pair of freshly-filled champagne flutes with a foreboding note of finality.

"Exactly," confirms Christian, grabbing a glass from the tray. "A beautifully complimentary pairing. One that hope we can both enjoy for many years to come."

"Yes, but—"

"Let's toast, shall we?" prompts Christian, cutting me off yet again as the footman proffers me the other serving of expensive bubbly.

I stare at it like a poison pill.

This is what Drake had warned me about, isn't it? That Christian would seek to manoeuvre me into a corner like a chess piece... By giving with one hand, only to take with the other when the time came for the chips to fall due. Because what better way to create an unimpeachable sense of obligation than by making me into a duchess? A literal vassal to the Crown? Required to do the King's bidding, no matter the cost?

And if that really is his aim, then he has certainly been succeeding.

But at the same time, I am not sure I can trust my assessment. Christian has given no indication, one way or another, as to where his goals lay. And even if the misunderstanding had been genuine, to turn him down now would not only be inexplicably rude, but maybe also dangerous?

Would I be jeopardising Christian's support in the hunt for Tariq and my quest to set the record straight if I offend him by throwing all his heartfelt effort back in his face? Especially when I don't know for certain what Christian's motives are?

Because what if Drake is wrong? What if there is no hidden agenda and I'm just massively overthinking this entire thing because I've been burned once already and now everyone looks suspect... Even — and especially — when I'm being offered help?

"Harper?" queries Christian. "Everything alright?"

I shake myself out of my stupor and grab the crystal flute. "I'm fine. Just... Trying to come to grips with it all."

"There will be plenty of time for that," he assures me with a grin, raising his glass. "To the new Duchess of Valtoria!"

I clink the delicate crystal in my hand against his with a leaden feeling in my stomach.

There's no going back now...

For better or for worse, I have just become an aristo.

The story continues in Chapter 16 - Snakes in the Garden

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bloomingdayswithyou · 10 months

Note

OMG THAT IS PERFECT! Because hands down Lucas owned MAW era the whole concept and MAU itself was a amazing and they were clearly going for a genie in the lamp, Arabian Nights, Aladdin theme and one of Lucas' outfits just screams ALADDIN to me and so I was gonna ask if I could request for an Alddin AU with Lucas as Aladdin and the male reader as Jasmine and for a fun twist Jackson Wang is gonna be the genie (if you don't write for Jackson you can surprise me with who you prefer the genie to be or which ever character and idol you wanna add I just love Jackson and Lucas duo lol ;)) I love Aladdin both the 1992 animated version and the 2019 live action adaptation so I wanna be surprised with what you can come up with, take us to A Whole New World and have fun! Thanks in advance!🧞‍♂️✨️🌌🌙🐒🩵🐅

A Whole New World

Pairing: Aladdin!Lucas x Jasmine!Male!Reader (feat. Genie!Jackson)

Word count: 609

Warnings: none

Author’s note: I’m a bit more familiar with Aladdin but still it’s been a while since I’ve watched it!! I tried my best

In the bustling city of Agrabah, Lucas and m/n had become inseparable. Their love had flourished and taken root, weaving a tapestry of passion and devotion that seemed to defy the constraints of time. Their secret meetings in the palace gardens had now become cherished traditions, a sacred place where they could share their dreams and fears without the judgment of the outside world.

One evening, as they strolled through the moonlit gardens, Lucas playfully plucked a flower from a nearby bush and tucked it behind the m/n's ear. "You look even more enchanting with this," he said, his eyes sparkling with affection. The m/n chuckled, his heart warmed by Lucas's charm. "And you look like a prince out of a fairy tale," he replied, admiration shining in his eyes.

Lucas smiled, his heart swelling with happiness. "You know, sometimes I feel like this is all a dream. That I'm just a street rat who stumbled upon a palace and found the most incredible person in the world," he confessed, his voice filled with sincerity. The m/n took Lucas's hand in his own, squeezing it gently. "You are so much more than that, Lucas. You are my world," he said, his voice soft and tender.

In that moment, they were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. Panic washed over them as they realized they were no longer alone. Quickly, they pulled away from each other, trying to compose themselves. To their surprise, it was the genie, Jackson, who had appeared before them, a knowing smile on his face. "Ah, young love. It's a beautiful sight to behold," he said, his voice warm and teasing.

Lucas felt a blush creep up his cheeks, but he couldn't deny the happiness that filled his heart. "You're not going to tell anyone, are you?" he asked, trying to sound playful despite his nerves. Jackson laughed, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Fear not, my dear master. Your secret is safe with me. I am here to grant your wishes, not to meddle in your love affairs," he replied, waving his hand theatrically.

M/n chuckled, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. "Thank you, Jackson. We appreciate your discretion," he said, his gaze lingering on Lucas, who smiled back at him. "Oh, it's my pleasure! You two make quite the enchanting pair," Jackson said, his tone sincere. "Now, if there's anything else you desire, just give me a shout. I'll be off, then!" With a theatrical bow, he disappeared into a puff of smoke.

As they watched the genie vanish, Lucas and m/n couldn't help but laugh. "He's something else, isn't he?" Lucas remarked, shaking his head in amusement. "He certainly is," m/n agreed, his heart filled with gratitude for the magical friend who had brought them together.

In the days that followed, Lucas and m/n continued to explore the depths of their love, finding joy in the simple moments they shared. They reveled in each other's presence, discovering new facets of their personalities with each passing day. Their love remained a secret, known only to the stars that watched over them and the genie who had inadvertently played a part in their love story.

Yet, as much as they cherished their stolen moments, they longed for a day when they could openly express their love for each other without fear of judgment or repercussions. In their hearts, they knew that their love was worth fighting for, that the world deserved to witness the magic they had found in each other's arms.

And so, they held onto hope, knowing that someday, they would be able to dance through the streets of Agrabah hand in hand, with the entire world celebrating their love. For now, though, they found solace in the quiet intimacy of their secret love, knowing that they had a love that was as vast as the desert sands, as bright as the stars in the night sky, and as enduring as a tale passed down through generations.

#kpop x reader #kpop x male reader #nct #kpop #nct x reader #nct x male reader #wayv #wayv x reader #wayv x male reader #superm #lucas #nct Lucas #wayv lucas #lucas x reader #lucas x male reader

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tomatoswup · 11 months

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Cheer up!📣

summary: A cheerleading injury sure does hurt, and theres no one to cover you! Oh dear who else could help you in these daring times!

warnings/tags: cheerleader!reader,,,sharp shooter! Vash,,, injury,,,,University!AU/Modern!AU,,,,kinda suggestive? ur bf vash just looks good bestie,, self-concious vash,,, reader drags wolfwood with them b/c they made him drive,, Cheerleading at a football game,,,possessive vash(barely),,cheerleading outfit Vash :P,,,vash x reader,,,

⋆｡°✩inspir. from robin william's performance with the cheerleaders of the broncos

A/N: sorry for not putting anything up, it was a bit of a busy week and i needed some time away from looking at a screen for so long hehehe,,,here's another lil thingy i wanted to write when it popped up on my feed and by write i mean really wanted to write Enjoy!

p.s: i also opened a ko-fi if anyone wanted to donate a coffee!☕️

✨i’m also back on working on requests sorry for the late delays for those who sent one in! I will be working on them and trying to get them out as fast as I can!

The hard steps of heeled shoes on clean cut grass, the twirls of bodies and hips, and the glittering shine of outfits under the heat of the blistering sun.

Did you never get enough of it? No you didn't, maybe it was the charm to it!

...Okay definitely not the heat but the rush of the performance? Pretty fun!

Cheerleading was no easy feat especially if you get hurt during it.

And you were well known for not having the best luck.

"Coach please, I really need to perform, the routine isn't gonna look right if I'm not there-" You pleaded, limping behind your coach Roberto as he slowly walked to the sidelines.

A normal day of practice had quickly turned upside down when you accidentally tripped over your feet in the middle of the routine, bending your ankle in an odd way that you did not want to look at.

With a clipboard in his hands, the music continued to blast through the air as the rest of your teammates practiced just a bit away on the field. "As much as you wanna protest about it, I'm not putting you in. You hurt? Take a break." He rasped out.

Shit.

You watched as the realization grew on his face until he put a hand up to rub the bridge of his nose with a sigh "Now who the hell am I gonna find to take your place. No one in this damned place knows any of these moves besides you guys..."

You put a hand over your eyes in attempted to stop getting blinded from the sun, momentarily looking back at your team. The upcoming performance was against a pretty much bigger university and you knew ya'll couldn't let everyone down.

Who else could take your spot-

And it were if a lightbulb went off on top of your head, you gasped out at the memory. Maybe there was one person.

Out of all the times you've been unsure if you were doing a routine right, those insecure times in need of help, you've always gone to one person with a bit of a sharp eye.

"I think I know someone..."

///

Vash liked to help people.

Well, it wasn’t a like really but more of a love. Sometimes he found himself trying to do the best he could for those who he loved and cherished even though he doesn't really know if he could.

A bit of a fault in the Saverem's head.

But he never really thought he would've been presented with something like this.

"Uh, I don't know about this... I don't think I'll pull it off."

"I think you'll look great Vash! Honestly, I really wouldn't know how to repay you if you did!" You cheekily smiled at your boyfriend, both of his hands clasped in your own as the both of you sat on your dorm room bed.

Really? He couldn't help but nervously laugh "I don't know if these-" You let go of his hands as he reached over and held up the garments that you had laid out next to you, the tips of his ears turning red from the thoughts. You wore this?

Thighs out, a cut top that showed more than he would've liked to the public, jeez Vash wanted to just wrap you in a blanket and hold you down until everything was over!

You definitely pulled this off but him?

"-Will fit me."

"Don't worry about it Vash, they’re stretchy!" You reassured him.

But you still saw the look uncertainty on him, his mouth tilted in a small pout and an eyebrow raised upwards, making you exhale and give him a soft smile.

"You don't have to do this for me ya’ know? Seriously, I can always perform next season, I mean this sprained ankle isn’t gonna heal quick so maybe I should listen to Roberto about this. “

“No.” Vash abruply cut you off, taking you aback when he turned the other way, hiding his face away from you.

Shit, did you bother him? This was a big favor after all, you couldn't blame him for saying no. You would've said it yourself if you had been asked too.

'Maybe it's too much for him...' You thought, before putting a hand up to put on his shoulder.

“Actually Vash, maybe I'll just rest. I can always tell Roberto change the routine or something! I know you have your shooting competition soon-“

Hearing Vash mumble under his breath, you leaned in closer, not having caught what he said. "What did you say?"

“...I didn’t say I wasn’t gonna do it. I'm worried if the outfit looks bad on me.” He spoke up before turning back to you, giving you a cheeky smile before setting a quick kiss on the tip of your nose.

"But I really don't think the shoes are gonna fit.."

And before you knew it, two weeks had passed and you watched on from the large bleachers at the field below as the fans roared all around the arena before the start of the game.

"So Vash did this willingly?" Vash's roommate Wolfwood flatly asked, leaning back lazily in his seat as you fixed the red jacket on your shoulders belonging to the spiked hair blonde.

"Yeah, he did."

Wolfwood crossed his arms, staring out towards the field as the countdown began ticking to its final seconds in a moments thought "Hope you taught him well."

You leaned to the side towards Wolfwood "I swear I'll pay for your gas Wolfwood."

"I don't think you understand, I had to really drive your ass all the way over here instead of indulging in my beauty sleep." He put a offended hand to his chest.

Did he really think you could've drove there with a swollen ankle?

"...I won't tell Milly you took her welcome lollipops from the entry way the last time you visited."

Wolfwood's head snapped to you, shooting you a glaring squint under his black sunglasses whilst earning a mischievous thumbs-up from yourself.

It was only a few seconds before he swiped his hand out and slapped the side of your knee "Just watch your damn boyfriend already."

Thank you for your patronage~

And when the buzzer rang, you really couldn't hear shit but the screams of football fans as the music began, and that infamous intro you've trained to for the last few weeks boomed out.

God, you kinda hoped he didn't second guess himself, as much as he was clumsy at moments, throughout all the time you've gotten to know him his memory did not fail him one bit.

Just breathe and go with the flow.

Thats what you told him the night before when he left back to his room, having practiced one more time with you.

You hoped he took it what you said to heart.

"Look! The cheerleaders are coming out!" A small girl that had been sitting behind you exclaimed with a pointing finger.

And out ran your team from the break hallway and into the field and in line. One by one, you quickly scanned the running line of cheerleaders crossing the field until you spotted the very out of place tall blonde.

Gotcha cutie!

Running out and following the line leader, Vash's white gloved hand waved towards the crowd as everyone screamed out, both in anticipation and surprise.

"WHO IS THAT?!"

"That's the uni's #1 sharp shooter! Vash The Stampede!"

"What is he doing there!?"

"Maybe he's promoting his team?"

Or maybe you should've gotten some binoculars because why was your boyfriend putting that outfit to work? Sure he was fit and all but damn.

A short white cropped top that ended at his waist with decorative diamond lining and a matching skirt and white heeled boots, the white shiny outfit was one reminiscing a more western look this performance and honestly you weren't mad... How did you never notice your boyfriend had hips?

Nope, not mad at all..

"GO VASH GO!" You screamed at the top of your lungs as the cheerleaders got in place. Picking up the pom-poms from the ground, with one hand on the hip and the other thrown up into the air, you watched as he was the last to put his hand up.

"LET'S GO!"

And with one hip sway, did the Vash slay.

#trigun imagines #vash x reader #trigun #trigun headcanons #trigun stampede x reader #vash imagine #vash the stampede #vash the stampede x reader #vash the stampede imagine #hehehee #another day another slayyy #yes the title is a twice reference LMFAOOOOO #but cmon vash in a cheerleading outfit?? HE'D EAT EVERYONE UPPP

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thecasualauthor · 2 months

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Re-entering my Pirates of the Caribbean era once more.

@kay-elle-cee tagging you because you inspired me to finish it today, a feat I never thought possible. Totally thought I was gonna write 100 more words max but now here we are.

(I'm also 90% sure this is the angstiest thing I have ever written)

Anyway

Did I close my fist around something delicate? (Did I shatter you?)

Here's a summary:

His face is unreadable, his eyes searching hers as if trying to decipher her intentions, her feelings. Elizabeth holds her breath, her heart pounding in her chest as she waits for his response. Then he opens his mouth.

“If you make your choices alone,” Will begins, in a low, accusatory voice, “how can I trust you?”

#willabeth #will turner #elizabeth swann #these two #pirates of the caribbean

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theetherealbloom · 2 months

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NO BODY, NO CRIME | TIM ROCKFORD

No Body, No Crime | Tim Rockford x Fem!Reader

Summary: You investigate a series of murders and the disappearance of your friend, Este. Suspecting Este's husband, Adam, you take matters into your own hands, orchestrating a scheme to frame him for the crimes as you hide the truth from your boyfriend-Detective Tim Rockford.

Paring: Det. Tim Rockford x Profiler Fem!Reader

Warnings: Violence, Crime Stuff, Angst, FLUFF, Kissing, Established Relationship, Swearing, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, Flirting, Flattery, Blood, Character Deaths, Awkward, Plot Holes,

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: This is for @beskarandblasters drabble challenge! Thanks for letting me participate in the Taylor Swift Drabble Challenge, I had so much fun writing this. I’ve never written for Tim Rockford before, so I hope I did him some justice.

Song: no body, no crime by Taylor Swift (feat. HAIM)

Main Masterlist

WILLOW’S CREEK – EVENING

The faint drone of the TV news reporting a surge in local murders filled the room, but you quickly drowned it out, lowering the volume. Seated on your couch, legs tucked in, you and Este cradled glasses of wine. "You look like you’ve been losin' sleep," you observed, noting Este's tired eyes and lack of color in her complexion.

Este sighed heavily, her voice tinged with frustration. "My husband's actin' different, and it smells like infidelity," she confessed. "That ain't my Merlot on his mouth. That ain't my jewelry on our joint account. No, there ain't no doubt, I think I'm gonna call him out."

Concern furrowed your brow as Este voiced her suspicions. "I think he did it, but I just can't prove it," she added, her words heavy with uncertainty.

At the station, you found yourself immersed in a case alongside Detective Tim Rockford, the FBI had sent you, a profiler to collaborate with him to work on the case. Together, you were tackling the investigation into a chilling serial killer plaguing the area.

"All similar-looking... died the same way too," you remarked, studying the evidence on the board. Tim nodded grimly. "I reckon the unsub might strike again soon."

A shiver ran down your spine as you surveyed the photos of the victims, their hauntingly familiar faces unsettling you to your core.

"You alright there, sweetheart?" Tim's voice broke through your thoughts as he approached, wrapping an arm around your waist. Weary, you leaned into his embrace, finding solace in his warmth.

He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, his concern evident. "Is it about the case or somethin’ else?" he inquired softly.

Meeting his gaze, filled with understanding, you began, "Remember when Este came over last Tuesday?"

Tim nodded, a knowing look in his eyes. "Had your girl talk?"

You affirmed with a nod. "Este suspects that her husband is cheating on her."

Tim let out a low whistle. "Shit."

"Yeah," you agreed, worry etched in your features. “I might message her later, try and meet up with her at an Olive Garden next week on Tuesday or something.”

Tim nods, “I can drop you off.”

“You don’t have—” He cuts you off before you can finish, “I’ll drop you off, sweet girl. I know how stressed you get when you drive.”

You grumble with a small pout, “Some people shouldn’t have a license.”

He plants a kiss on your cheek before gently turning you to face him, his lips meeting yours in a tender embrace. "Let’s go home, darlin’, and we’ll tackle all of this in the mornin’," he murmurs softly.

Friday, 8:34 PM

You: Olive Garden next week, Tuesday?

Este: Sure, see you soon!

Tuesday, 7:38 PM

You: Hey, got us a table. Let me know if you’re on the way! <3

8:34 PM

You: Are you running a little late?

WILLOW’S CREEK – THURSDAY, MORNING

Este was nowhere to be found—neither at Olive Garden nor at her workplace.

You're on the phone, dialing Este's number for what feels like the hundredth time, only to be met with silence. Suddenly, Este's husband, Adam, strides into the station to report her disappearance to the sergeant.

Fury bubbles up inside you, and you're on the verge of lunging at him when Tim intervenes. His arms encircle your waist, guiding you away from Adam and into a nearby conference room. With a gentle touch, he pulls you close, kissing you until the world spins a little less wildly, calming your frayed nerves.

"He did it, Tim. I know it. All the murders, Este missing, it’s him. He did it," you whispered, your voice trembling, as Tim held you close, his arms a comforting shield.

"What do you mean?" Tim inquired, his brow furrowing in concern.

"All the women, they were surrogates for Adam to perfect his crime. To get rid of Este. And I noticed when I passed his house, his truck has got some brand new tires," you explained, determination shining in your eyes despite the fear gnawing at your insides.

"Let’s get to diggin’ then, darlin’," Tim declared, pressing a reassuring kiss to your temple as you swallowed down your nerves. You knew facing Adam would be dangerous, but you were willing to risk it for justice.

"His mistress moved in, sleeps in Este's bed and everything. No, there ain't no doubt. We gotta catch him," Tim remarked grimly as you both surveyed the evidence board, the weight of the unsolved case heavy on your shoulders.

Weeks had passed, and still, you hadn't found a body.

"No body means there’s no crime," you murmured, your voice tinged with frustration. "We need reasonable cause to detain him, evidence to bring before a judge. Without a body, he can't be tried for murder."

"I think he did it, but I just can't prove it," you admitted quietly, your words echoing the frustration of your fruitless search.

Another week slipped by, and as Tim slept soundly beside you, you meticulously planned your next move. With wide eyes and clenched teeth, you gazed up at the ceiling, every detail of your scheme playing out in your mind.

Thank the stars your daddy insisted on that boating license when you were just fifteen. And all those years cleaning houses? They taught you exactly how to cover up a scene. Then there's Este's sister, willing to swear she spent the night with you for a girl's night. And let's not forget the icing on the cake—the mistress and her hefty life insurance policy.

With a smirk, you loaded the boat with the evidence of your carefully crafted plan. After all, taking out a life insurance policy shortly before someone's demise raises more than a few eyebrows. It's a motive so strong, it practically screams guilt. And that policy? It's as circumstantial as it gets, proof that the suspect knew the end was near.

THE STATE COURT

WILLOW’S CREEK – AFTERNOON

You sat beside Tim as the trial reached its climax. Despite the defense's best efforts, they couldn't shake the suspicion surrounding you. But proving it? That was a different story altogether.

As the jury delivered their verdict, condemning her to a lifetime behind bars, you stood outside the courthouse, watching the chaos unfold. Cameras flashed, reporters clamored for a statement, but you remained composed, a smug smirk playing at your lips. Tim stood steadfast by your side, his arm draped protectively around your waist, a silent testament to his unwavering loyalty.

Then she saw you, desperation flashing in her eyes as she lunged forward, restrained by the police. "You did this! It was you!" she screamed, her accusations falling on deaf ears.

Arms folded across your chest, you merely smirked as she was ushered into a patrol car. She may believe you're guilty, but without proof, her words were nothing but empty threats.

Tim pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, and you leaned into his embrace, knowing that together, you were untouchable.

#tim rockford x reader #tim rockford x you #tim rockford fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic #tim rockford xfem!reader #tim rockford #taylor swift

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