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roosterforme · 2 days

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Aim for the Sky Part 7 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You felt exhausted and unappealing at the start of your third trimester, but according to your husband, you were still perfect. Just as you solve one problem for your friend, you inadvertently cause another one for yourself.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, Bradley eating pussy, swearing, angst, pregnancy

Length: 5400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

As nice as your second trimester had been, as soon as it ended, you were exhausted all the time. And you were once again starting to feel nauseous every morning. Maybe your mom was right and you needed to eat more than random foods dipped in hot sauce sporadically all day long. Your belly was also starting to change from a cute bump to a tender, oversized monster. When you mentioned it to Bradley, he scoffed.

"Don't call my Nugget a monster."

"I'm not talking about the baby!" you said as you started to get dressed for work in your maternity tent, gesturing at your body. "But there's a lot going on here."

"Yeah," Bradley grunted as he pulled a clean flight suit from the closet, eyeing you up and down. "There sure is. You look fantastic."

"I feel tired. And gross," you told him as you got dressed.

"That's just the hideous uniform talking. You didn't feel gross last night when we were snuggling. And you certainly didn't look gross."

You wanted to agree with him, but you were in a bad mood. The attic still wasn't finished even though your contractor, Bradley Ross, was at your house so frequently, it felt like he had moved in. And your parents would be here in four days. And your house still wasn't decorated for the holiday. And the only gifts you managed to buy were matching pink tropical shirts for Bradley and the baby to wear next summer.

Your husband zipped up his flight suit and made his way around the bed to where you were standing. "Would you feel better if I picked up dinner on my way home so you don't have to cook?"

"Probably," you muttered, trying not to smile.

He kissed your forehead and gave you his most innocent looking gaze as his fingers grazed your belly. "And after that, I'll eat your pussy until my jaw locks up and you're in tears from too many orgasms?"

You had to press your lips together for a few seconds before you could say, "Please."

"Then it's a date, Baby Girl," he said before kissing you on the lips, leaving you to chase him for another feel of his rough mustache before you let him leave for his early flight time. "I love you and the Nugget!" he called from the hallway.

"We love you, too!"

Five minutes after he left, you were still getting ready for work. In fact, when your doorbell rang and Tramp went running through the living room, you were still buttoning your tent shirt. "I'm coming," you called out, already knowing it was your contractor. When you pulled the door open, your shirt was buttoned mostly correctly, and you told him, "I'm just about to head out."

"Okay," he replied, taking you in before you stepped aside for him. It didn't matter what your husband said, you were a bit of a hot mess right now. And that reminded you that you needed a little bit of hot sauce before you left for work.

"Do you need anything from me?" you asked Bradley Ross, and his gaze dipped down to your horrible uniform.

"Not at all," he replied, turning toward the stairs. "Enjoy your day."

You parted ways and headed for the kitchen, and you realized your shirt was even worse than you anticipated. You had to unbutton and rebutton the whole thing while your bread was in the toaster. When it came out nice and crunchy, you dipped it into a dish of hot sauce and ate it in four bites.

"It's so fucking good," you moaned at Tramp before scooping him some breakfast. "No hot sauce for you. Just for the human baby," you told him, holding your hand near your belly button as Rose started doing her somersaults. "You're up late this morning," you told her, deciding you better stop in the bathroom one more time before you even attempted the short drive to work with her bouncing on your bladder.

As soon as you were done and walked back through your bedroom, you eyed your bed longingly. "No," you told it, turning away from temptation and walking out to your red Bronco in the driveway. You backed out past the other Bradley's truck and drove to base.

You were already hungry again by the time you got there. When you turned the corner to your office, you found Maria standing next to your door. "Are you waiting for me?" you asked, and her gaze snapped up to yours. "I'm surprised you're here this early with Bob blowing your back out twenty-four hours a day." Tears filled her eyes instantly, and you rushed toward her. "Oh my god, Maria, what's wrong?"

She let you pull her into an awkward hug with your belly in the way, and she sobbed instead of responding with words, so you let her cry. She had been preoccupied at brunch with you and Cam, but she definitely hadn't been like this at all. If anything, she'd seemed like she was lost in a dream world with her French toast the other day.

She sniffed and managed to whisper, "Bob's being deployed for some special mission. He just texted me. He's leaving the day after Christmas."

"Oh," you gasped, rubbing her back as she cried. This would be the first time her boyfriend was deployed since they started hooking up a few months ago. They would be fine. You knew they would. But you recalled all too easily what it was like when Bradley was gone when you and he were first dating. It made you feel sick to recall the feelings of self doubt and uncertainty, especially now that your daughter would be arriving in three months.

You were about to tell Maria that Bob's deployment would feel terrible but wouldn't last forever when she said, "I have to break up with him."

"Pardon?" you asked, completely thrown by what she said. "I thought you were in love with him."

"I am," she cried as you finally unlocked your door with her clinging to you and managed to get her inside. "But I can't tell him that now. We've been taking things a little slower after taking things really fast right after he moved in."

You were trying your best to piece everything together, but it just wasn't all fitting in your mind. "That's good," you said gently. "So why would you have to dump him? You love him, and he'd be coming back to you and the apartment when he gets home?"

She looked at you and shook her head. "I can't expect him to go months and months without having sex. We do it like at least once a day," she whispered as tears flowed down her cheeks. "Maybe he'd agree to take a break? I don't know. But I can't get upset when he wants to hook up with someone else on the aircraft carrier."

You felt like your eyes were going to bug out. "Maria, I really don't think you should be hasty here."

She just shrugged in your arms before pulling away from you and wiping at her tears. "You're so lucky you have Bradley." She left you standing there, unsure what to say.

---------------------------

All of the holiday decorations had Bradley a little stressed out. Some of his neighbors had lights on the palm trees in their yards, and there was even a tree inside the guard house. He could remember very little about his dad, but Bradley could remember everything his mom did until he died. For the life of him, the one thing that escaped him was how she made even the most basic things feel magical.

She must have done it effortlessly, because he never took the time to look behind the proverbial curtain to see how it was done. There were always presents under their little Christmas tree even though he realized after she was gone that it must have been a struggle. And now Bradley wasn't sure how he was going to do the same when it all just seemed so stressful.

He snorted as he made his way across the tarmac to the tower. All you said you wanted for Christmas was a babymoon trip and a million orgasms. But you could have asked him for either of those on any day, and he would have given them to you. He needed to find something else for you, too.

"Are you having a baby shower?"

Bradley looked up to find his best friend was looking at him as soon as he walked into the rec room to get a drink. "Good morning to you, too," he said, reaching past her into the refrigerator.

"You need to have one, okay?" she said. "Your wife will like it."

Bradley felt a little more anxious, because he was going to have to admit he was clueless when it came to this topic as well. "Isn't that something her mom should do?"

Nat rolled her eyes. "That's a lot for her mom to handle when she lives on the other side of the country."

He cleared his throat. "Well, what do you even know about baby showers?"

"More than you," she said easily. "Which is why I'll take care of it."

Bradley sighed in relief. "You're not going to give me a hard time about this?"

"Of course not. When have I ever done that sort of thing?"

"Literally since the first time I met you," he muttered as she walked away. But he knew he had nothing to worry about; Nat would make sure you had exactly what you wanted or needed in any scenario.

A minute later, when he got called out to the tarmac, he found his best friend wrapping Bob up in a hug. While he wasn't invited into the conversation, he could hear the dreaded word 'deployment' as he walked past on his way to his jet, leaving him to assume Bob got a notification this morning. Poor Bob, but at least it wasn't him for once.

When he took to the air, Bradley immediately felt a bit calmer. He would figure out how to take care of everything with you by his side. He would make things special for Rosie in his own way. He could share all the things with her that he loved about his mom.

But the thing that calmed Bradley down most of all was arriving in the cafeteria for lunch in time to see you. "Sweetheart!" he called out, cutting in front of Jake and Javy to get to you faster. You had a burrito bowl in one hand and a bunch of little packets of hot sauce in the other, and you still looked cute in your tent uniform. Your face lit up when you saw him, and even though he reeked of jet fuel, you let him give you a hug.

"Do you know where Bob is?" you asked after you kissed him on the cheek. "He and I need to have a conversation."

Bradley ran his hand along your belly, hoping to feel a little thump from the Nugget. "I think he's been notified about a deployment," Bradley muttered.

"I know he has," you replied with strong annoyance in your tone. "Oh, there he is," you said, looking past Bradley. "Excuse me, Roo." You kissed him and added, "I love you, but I need to take care of this. I'll see you at home later when you're going down on me?"

Bradley nearly choked as he muttered, "Okay," while Jake and Javy clearly tried to hide their surprised and amused laughter.

You hurried off in Bob's direction as Javy said, "Nobody better try to call Rooster tonight."

"Silence your cell phone," Jake said, clapping Bradley on the back while he blushed. "Eat your lunch but save room for dinner."

"Fuck," Bradley grumbled, walking away from them as they laughed. Just for that, he'd make sure he was on his A game at home. He'd also have to remind you that your voice tends to carry when you're annoyed.

-----------------------------

You set your lunch down across from Bob at one of the small tables with only two seats. He smiled as you slid into the chair opposite him, and he greeted you by name. Then he cleared his throat and asked, "You're not sitting with Bradley today?"

You followed his gaze to where your husband was sitting with Nat and Mickey. "Nope. I wanted to sit with you."

"Okay," he replied, still smiling. "But I'm actually waiting for Maria?"

"She's not coming."

His smile started to fade. "She's not?"

"She's not," you confirmed. "She told me you're getting deployed soon." When he nodded, you asked, "Do you like having a girlfriend?"

His smile was back. "I like having Maria as my girlfriend."

You were shaking your head as you started emptying packet after packet of green hot sauce onto your lunch. "And are you planning on sleeping around while you're gone?"

"No." His voice sounded hoarse, and his face went pale.

"Glad to hear that," you told him as you rammed your fork into your burrito bowl.

"Why would you think I'd want to do that?" he asked, leaning a little closer to you, his brow creased in concern.

"I'm not the one thinking it. You better ask yourself why Maria might think you'd want to do that."

Bob's eyes went wide even as he blushed bright pink. "I don't know... I thought she knew how happy I am. I told her she makes me crazy... I said... I s-said I want to go at it all the time now. I've never been with someone like her." You shoved a bite of food into your mouth and chewed it up while he processed his words. "Wait... does she think I'm like obsessed with getting laid? Because I'm certain I'm just obsessed with her."

You nodded as you swallowed, proud of him for piecing it together so quickly. "Seems that way. You have about a week to put in some legwork if you don't want her to break up with you." In an instant, you were left with Bob's abandoned tray as your only lunch companion, and when he didn't return, you ate his breadsticks and baked pasta.

This was turning out to be the longest day imaginable, and when you finally climbed into your Bronco to head home, you were yawning. Then when you pulled into the driveway, not only was your Bradley not home yet, the other Bradley was still working. You grumbled as you made your way inside, where he was hammering something upstairs; you couldn't even start taking your horrible uniform off in the living room after you opted to wear it home today to get here faster.

When you let Tramp out of the laundry room and sent him to the backyard, you were fighting the urge to take your shirt off and walk through the house topless with every fiber of your being. You made it to your bedroom before tearing it from your body along with your uniform pants. You eyed the bed. You were tired enough to get in and stay there, but you wanted your reward for making it through the day.

"Takeout and head," you whispered, nodding in the mirror with a grin. You turned from side to side, examining your belly and your breasts. Rose was moving a lot today, so much so that you almost noticed it more when she took a break. And your boobs did look pretty nice. You took your bra off and added it to the laundry pile, and that's when your husband walked in.

"I brought pizza, Sweetheart," he said before his lips parted in soft surprise. "You trying to get started without me?" he groaned, reaching for his belt.

You bit your lip, and shook your head. "Do you think we should wait until the other Bradley leaves?" you asked, earning a devilish smirk from your husband.

"Didn't stop us last week when we had sex in the laundry room while he was working. And it didn't stop you from sucking my cock while he was here the week before." You squeaked as he smacked you on the butt and whispered, "You promised me I could have your pussy the second I got home."

"Did I?" you asked, climbing onto the bed, and he was right there with you, hovering over your body as you stretched out. When he nodded, you said, "Then I guess it's all yours, Roo."

But that wasn't even where he stopped first, and you shouldn't have been surprised. His lips met the valley between your very perky breasts while he unzipped his pants. Then you watched him rut gently into the bed as he licked and sucked on you. He had some particular fascination with your chest right now, and he was almost reverent in the way he touched you.

The sounds of hammering and soft music playing from upstairs were really doing it for you. Getting nasty while you weren't quite alone was always enough to get you going, but on top of that, your husband was so turned on by your weird pregnant body. You felt like a queen as he plucked at one nipple and then the other with his lips, leaving your skin damp to the cool air. Your nipples were furled into tight peaks as he whimpered your name.

"I can't get enough," he murmured, letting his mustache scrape along your sensitive skin. Your hips bucked from the bed as he let his teeth graze your nipple. "Where do you want my mouth?" he asked, meeting your eyes even as his tongue darted out to trace the undersides of your breasts.

"On my pussy," you gasped.

"I can't hear you."

"On my pussy!" you cried out, and he smiled that wicked smile again.

"Now everyone knows," he growled, leaning on his forearms and treating you to the flex of his biceps as he pushed your thighs apart and settled in.

---------------------------

Bradley had one perfect tit in each hand and his face buried in your soaking pussy. Each time he thought you were getting close, he lazily kissed along your dainty rooster tattoo and up to your belly. Once he even paused to say hello to his daughter while you dug your heel into his back and begged him incoherently to put his mouth back on your clit. And he did so with a smile.

Was he rock hard? Yes. Would he love to cum right now? Absolutely. Was he enjoying every second of the way your body felt and tasted? Definitely. Could he wait until he got you off to let himself unload? For sure.

Your tits were getting bigger and more enticing by the day. And your swollen belly was clearly all his doing. He was grinding his cock into the bed as he slid his hands down to your thighs, spreading you a little wider as he licked all around both of your holes until you were whining his name.

"Fuck," he grunted. Bradley Ross had just turned off his radio. That meant he was getting ready to head out for the day, which also meant the hammering had stopped. You were getting loud as hell as Bradley pressed his nose to your clit and lapped up your wetness. He was only concerned for a split second about your volume before he decided to just carry on. It wasn't like the contractor hadn't seen how hot you were with his own two eyes. Nobody could blame a man for getting at his own wife as much as possible, especially one with massive, pregnant tits and the prettiest face imaginable.

"Roo!" you moaned when he wrapped his lips around your clit. "Let me come, Daddy."

You were tired. He could hear it in your voice. The bedding was a little damp from the mess you and he were making, and his jaw truly was starting to ache. When you released the bedding with your left hand, Bradley could see the sparkle of your engagement ring before you dragged your fingers through his hair.

Okay, now he needed to get off pretty badly, so he slipped two fingers inside you, and as soon as he did, you came. "Damn," he grunted against your clit before circling you with his flat tongue as you rode his hand and yanked his hair. You were riding him as he pushed on the back of your thigh until he couldn't take it any longer.

He barked out your name as he got to his knees and thrust his cock inside your overstimulated pussy as you were coming down from your orgasm, and that just made you come for him a little more as you shook your head back and forth on the pillow. One more deep thrust, and he came too, with his hands on your tits and sweat dripping down the back of his neck.

When you opened your eyes, you had the most serene look on your face. Bradley kissed the tip of your nose as he pulled his cock free and grunted. "You know, the guys heard your little pussy eating comment at lunch today."

"Oops," you giggled, running your fingers softly over your tits as he stood up and started fixing his clothing.

"I got roasted for it all afternoon." But he was all smiles, because he really wouldn't have it any other way. "Come out and get some cold pizza when you're ready. I'm going to see how it's coming along upstairs."

You just nodded, and Bradley took one more look at the messy creampie he gave you before vanishing out into the hallway and closing the door behind him. The Craftsman smelled like sawdust and fresh paint, and he was really hoping the project would be completed in the next few days so your parents could sleep up there during their stay. Otherwise he might have to gag you during sexual activities, and he was only half joking in his mind.

Bradley Ross was carrying a paint can and some rollers down the stairs, heading right for the front door. "Have a good night," he called out, barely pausing to get through the door. Perhaps he'd heard your beautiful chorus of moaning. Didn't matter, but Bradley had hoped to ask him how much longer he thought the project would be. Instead he climbed the stairs to investigate for himself.

It looked incredible, and it seemed like a lot had been accomplished today. Two bedrooms of identical size were both primed and ready for paint. The hardwood flooring looked perfect, and the new windows were letting so much natural light in. The bathroom wasn't large, but it did have a tub and a single sink vanity, and the tiles you picked out looked pretty.

He shut all the lights off and headed back down to the kitchen where you were wearing a pair of his underwear with a maternity tank top, dunking a slice of pizza in some hot sauce. "How's it looking?" you asked. He knew you were talking about the attic, but he couldn't help himself as he grabbed a slice from the box.

"It's looking sexy and pregnant and like it just had an orgasm." You burst into laughter as he added, "The project upstairs looks good, too."

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Later that week, you got a vague text from Bradley letting you know that he'd be late getting home from work. You were expecting maybe he'd be home around six or seven, just in time to help you wrap the presents you ordered for your parents, but he didn't get home until almost eight, long after Bradley Ross left for the day.

He was quiet and looked contemplative when he walked in. "Hi," you called out from where you were sitting on the couch, and he finally met your gaze. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He made his way over to you. "Mav just wanted to chat. Is there any pizza left?"

He kissed you before heading to the kitchen, and you stared after him. "Of course there's no pizza left. I'm pregnant. And are you being weird on purpose? Why are you three hours late getting home?"

You watched as he started to pour a bowl of cereal in silence, and you weren't sure if he was even listening to you. When you made your way into the kitchen, he finally said, "There's a potential job opportunity. Remember when I filled in for a few days here and there as an instructor?" When you nodded he took a bite of cereal before continuing. "Mav seems to think I could do more of that type of shit."

Your eyes went wide at the prospect of fewer deployments for him. "That might be a good opportunity," you told him, still unsure exactly where he stood on the topic.

He just shrugged and said, "It's certainly something to think about, Sweetheart. Wouldn't really be happening until a few months from now, but I'm going to keep the conversation going with Mav."

It was then that you realized he looked exhausted. "Want to take a shower with me? I could wash your hair."

Your husband moaned softly and set his empty bowl in the sink. "Hell yes. Absolutely."

Within three minutes, you had your hands coated in shampoo, and you were working them through his thick hair while he felt around your belly, hoping to feel the baby kick. "I feel like I barely got to spend any time with her this week," he whispered with a pout. "Where's my Nugget?"

You felt her give a little thump, as if she knew he was right there waiting for her. You quickly placed his hand a little higher, and he sighed in contentment. "Hey, Rose. Daddy's tired. Can we all snuggle in bed soon?" She seemed to squirm in response. "Your grandparents are coming to visit tomorrow."

"And the attic conversion should be done tomorrow, too," you told him. "That's what the other Bradley said when he was leaving today."

"Amazing. Merry Christmas to us."

You practically tucked him into bed as soon as he was dried off, but he kept reaching for you to join him. "I need to let Tramp out. I'll be right back." You walked through the kitchen and past the refrigerator which was covered in ultrasound photos. Then you straightened up a little bit while Tramp ran around the yard. By the time you got back to the bedroom, Bradley had fallen asleep with the Nugget Notebook open on his chest and a pen in his hand. You took a peek to see what he had written.

Hey, Rosie. It's almost Christmas. I'm not really good at celebrating holidays, but your mom is. Her parents are, too. I'm hoping I'll kind of figure this whole thing out once you get here. I'm thinking you'll make everything more fresh and fun for your old man. We can get better at things together.

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You were more than ready for a few days off. When you left work on December twenty-first, you reminded Cat that you planned on dropping off some gifts for Jeremiah over the weekend. When you got to the parking garage, you saw Maria and Bob making out next to his truck. He had her hands pinned above her head, and she was all smiles. You felt immediately better.

You knew the plan for the evening, and so did Bradley. Your parents were landing in San Diego at 6:15, and you assured them that you'd be there to pick them up. When you got home from work, Bradley Ross was finishing some details upstairs, and you were delighted by what you saw when you went to have a look.

"It's perfect," you gushed, looking around the space. The one bedroom was almost ready for your mom and dad. Someone would just need to make the bed later. The bathroom was shiny and bright and lovely, ready to be used. The second bedroom still had some wet paint, but you planned on just closing that door for a few days. "Let me write you a check for the balance," you told your contractor when he was about ready to leave. "I'll meet you in the kitchen."

After you wrote out the check, you waited for both Bradleys while you dipped some grapes in hot sauce. It was almost time to leave for the airport, and you still needed to change out of your uniform tent. You undid the top few buttons and played with your necklace charms, and as soon as Bradley Ross walked downstairs with the rest of his supplies, you rushed his way.

"Here's what we owe you. Thanks again for squeezing us into your schedule so close to the holidays."

"I hope you are happy with the outcome for many years to come," he told you with a smile.

"It looks so good, I'll definitely refer my friends to you for any projects in the future."

"Thank you, Mrs. Bradshaw."

You didn't bother correcting him when he didn't use your hyphenated last name, because as soon as he walked outside, you had your shirt off and you were rushing toward your bedroom. But as soon as you passed your mirror on your bra on the way to the closet, you paused and smiled. Your husband would love a little treat in his text messages; it had been ages since you sent him something dirty.

You snapped a photo of your boobs as they were hugged by the black lace. Then you took your bra off, covering your nipples with your hand and forearm before snapping another. Then you removed your arm and took one last picture of your breasts complete with tightly furled nipples. You expected that your husband would run into the house begging for a quickie before heading to the airport. The thought of his flushed cheeks and raspy voice made you giggle as you attached the photos and texted them away.

His hyperfixation was so fun for you right now, and you started to wonder if he was going to be as excited by your boobs after the baby was born. Would he be interested in the breastfeeding process?

"Hey, Baby Girl."

You turned toward the doorway as you straightened your sports bra and pulled an oversized shirt on. "Hi," you said, trying to play coy, but just grinning wildly instead.

"You ready to go get your mom and dad?"

"Yeah... almost. You looked down at his gym shorts where you could see the outline of his phone in his pocket. You pouted a bit when you had to ask, "Did you like the photos I texted to you?"

His brow furrowed as he patted his pocket. "What photos?"

You sighed. "The ones I sent like five minutes ago."

You watched as he unlocked his phone and started to shake his head. "I don't have any messages from you since lunchtime. What was it?"

"Thee pictures of my massive tits," you told him as you reached for his phone. But when you checked, they definitely weren't there. "Maybe I didn't tap send?" you murmured picking your phone up from the bed.

Bradley's arms wrapped around you from behind, and you could hear the smile in his voice when he whispered, "Can't wait to see them for myself." But you froze and tried to shake him off as your stomach lurched.

"Oh no. No no no no no!"

"What's wrong, Sweetheart?"

You handed him your phone and covered your eyes as you started to panic. Apparently you hadn't tapped on Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3 in your contacts. After you started typing his name, you must have accidentally selected Bradley Ross as the recipient. "Bradley! I sent them to the other Bradley!"

His eyes bugged out as he saw the photos in the message for himself. "You sent our contractor pictures of your tits!"

"I didn't do it on purpose!" you shrieked. "They were for you! What are we supposed to do now?!"

He pocketed both phones, heaved a deep, exhausted sigh and muttered, "I'm going to have nothing but fucking gray hair after this, I swear to god." Then he rushed from the room and you followed him long enough to watch him grab his keys and run out to his Bronco.

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Checking in with Maria and Bob was dramatic. Like damn. At least BG got to eat his lunch. And now we have the great Bradley mix-up to contend with. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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lumi-nescentt · 2 days

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Electric Touch

Part 1 - What Would You Do If I Went To Touch You Now

Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

Warnings: none

Words: 1.7k

Summary: y/n's affection for Lando hasn't gone unnoticed by the Australians she works with but despite their encouragement, she's convinced that finding things to dislike about Lando is the only way to save herself and her job.

A/N: Well hello there, it's been quite a while. I've been terribly busy with school things but I'm finally free so I'm gonna try and start posting again. Most of my WIP are xmas' themed (that's how long I haven't written for) but I have other ideas so bear with me pls :)

After joining McLaren in 2021 as Daniel’s PR manager, the girl had found a routine in her work with the papaya team, some comfort and calm in a world that always seemed rapid. That had, however, all been blown to pieces when Daniel had announced he wasn’t coming back the year after. With this new piece of information had come the sadness of losing someone she had grown accustomed to calling a friend more than a coworker but also the uncertainty of her place within the team without the Australian.

Luckily for her, the arrival of a rookie in the team also meant that the PR manager position she was occupying was still available and so she kept her job. If Oscar and Daniel were both Australian, the resemblance pretty much stopped there. Where Daniel was all loud laughs and obnoxious jokes, Oscar was quieter and understanding his humour had taken some time.

Despite that, Oscar and y/n became friends quickly. The girl was always there for him when the car wasn’t working like Zak had promised it would and even when they had media to attend and her work should have been her priority, she always made sure Oscar was 100% okay before sending him into the lion’s den. It made her a good PR manager and an even better friend.

Being level-headed was a necessary part of the job and y/n liked to pride herself in how well she dealt with tricky situations without ever losing her cool or at least without showing any signs of it. It seemed like nothing or nobody could crack her. Except one person with a dimpled smile and green eyes that mostly sparkled with a hint of mischief whenever their eyes met.

Falling for someone who worked for the same team had never been in y/n’s plans, especially not falling for a driver and yet that was the predicament she was in now.

From the moment Lando had grown out of his timid shell, y/n had known she was done for. Lando was everything she liked in a person, he was funny, kind, smart and so beautiful it made her head spin. If the situation had been different, maybe she would have allowed herself to feel like that but she couldn’t risk her job for what she hoped was some silly crush that would pass.

However, the crush never faded and the more time passed, the more she found to like about Lando. She tried her best to ignore him, to ignore how her stomach felt when he was around and how she seemed to just forget how to act, how to be when he was close. She had hoped no one would notice it but the problem with spending so much time with a driver was that they got pretty good at reading you over time.

Daniel had caught on exactly as it happened and he had teased her relentlessly for it when he knew she was in the mood for that. When he noticed how she was beating herself up over something she couldn’t control, Daniel offered a reassuring smile and a hug, reminding her that she was only human and having feelings for someone, no matter how great they were, wasn’t worth getting all worked up about and feeling guilty for.

For the two years they worked together, Daniel tried to convince her to shoot her shot because if the longing glances his teammate was always throwing their way said something, it was that Lando was in the same predicament as her. No matter how insistent the Australian was, y/n never agreed to do anything to make her feelings known or even test the water with Lando.

In the end, Daniel gave up on her side and instead tried to convince Lando to do something. Just like she didn’t believe Daniel, Lando didn’t believe him when he told her that making a move was a good idea. Lando wasn’t confident enough to risk getting rejected, especially by someone he saw every time they were at the track. Before the Australian could make what he thought was a great love story happen, he stepped down from F1 and despite being a reserve driver for half of the season, he wasn’t there or had enough time to play Cupid so he just prayed that the two idiots he called his friends would wake up one day and realise how stupid they were being.

When Oscar took his seat and started hanging out with the two of them, it didn’t take him long to put two and two together and realise that they were both painfully into each other but too blinded by their fears to actually see the whole picture. He found it sweet at first how Lando would always keep a seat for y/n in meetings, acting like he hadn’t meant to when she came in or how he would always make sure her favourite coffee was available in the McLaren hospitality when she worked trackside. He could tell that despite being scared, Lando desperately wanted something to happen. All the Brit needed was a little push and Oscar was determined to be the one to do it.

When Oscar had told y/n that he knew about her feelings for Lando, she had wanted the ground to swallow her whole right this instant. Working with a new driver that didn’t know her or Lando had let her hope that she could pretend easily but Oscar wasn’t blind. The girl had immediately answered that her feelings would soon be old news because she had made a plan to be over Lando by the end of the 2024 season.

Her so-called genius plan was simple: if she managed to find things to dislike in Lando, enough for her to have the ick, her feelings would certainly go away all at once. So this season, she was determined to pay attention to Lando’s every move and find negative things to say about it. Despite thinking that the plan was terrible and wasn’t going to work, Oscar knew he had to somehow warn Lando. He couldn’t break her trust by telling him so he had to convince Lando that he absolutely needed to make a move before somebody else did and stole y/n’s heart away.

Oscar decided to start his master plan before they filmed a few challenges for McLaren’s youtube channel. Lando and him were hanging out in an empty meeting room, waiting for the shooting to start so it was the perfect opportunity to talk freely.

-“ I think Logan has a crush on someone at McLaren.” Oscar stated out of nowhere

-“ Why do you think that ?”

-“ He’s always hanging around the garage. He says he’s there to see me but he doesn’t really talk to me when he’s here. He mostly talks to y/n. Actually, he only talks to her.”

-“ So you’re saying he’s interested in her ?”

-“ I think so. We never really talked about this kind of thing but it looks like it.” Oscar lied, knowing he would have to warn the American about the lie he had just fed Lando

-“ Oh, okay.” Lando paused, toying with the hem of his sleeves “ Do you think she likes him back ?”

-“ I don’t know if he’s her type but I don’t see why she wouldn’t. She’s always with me and Logan is too so that has to mean that she enjoys his company a little. Otherwise she wouldn’t hang out with us.”

-“ Did she ever talk to you about her dating life and stuff ?” Lando asked, trying to look uninterested

-“ Well, I know she’s pretty shy so she’s not one to make the first move, even if she likes a guy.”

-“ Yeah that sounds like her.” he smiled fondly, remembering how she had been her first days at McLaren, all soft spoken and keeping to herself, not wanting to bother anyone

-“ So, let’s say if somebody likes her, he better make a move soon because she’s not going to do it herself and also there’s other people who may be interested…”

-“ What are you insinuating, Oscar ?”

-“ What do you think ?”

-“ I do not like y/n like that.” Lando argued

-“ So it wouldn’t bother you if I set them up on a date, then ?” Oscar said, pretending to take out his phone to text either of them

-“ Wait !” Lando exclaimed, grabbing Oscar’s wrist before letting go of it like he had been burnt “ Please, Oscar. Don’t do that.”

-“ See ? I knew you weren’t dense.”

-“ I’m not. I just don’t want to ruin our friendship or how comfortable she feels at work right now.”

-“ That’s not going to happen and anyway you won’t know what she thinks until you actually ask her out.”

-“ What if she says no ?”

-“ What if she says yes ?” Oscar mimicked his friend with a knowing smile

-“ You’re so annoying.” Lando scoffed, rolling his eyes

-“ Does that mean you’re going to at least try to ask her out before giving up ?”

-“ I’m going to think about it.”

-“ No, that won’t cut it. You have to promise me you’ll try.”

-“ I don’t owe you shit, Oscar. Why are you so persistent anyway ?”

-“ I’m doing this in the name of love, mate. I just heard through the grapevine that she might like someone and from all the time I spend with her, I’m saying you should shoot your shot.”

-“ What does that even mean ? Why are you being so cryptic ?”

-“I can’t explicitly tell you because that would make me a bad friend but you have to trust me on that one. Just ask her out”

-“ Alright, I’ll do it. But don’t you dare pressure me or anything. If I’m doing this, I’m doing it on my own terms and that’s it.” Lando caved in, pointing his finger at the Australian’s face

-“ I’m so glad you said yes. I hope I at least get to be the godfather of one of your kids.” he laughed as Lando became bright red and slapped his shoulder

-“ So you’re going to tell Logan not to go for it ?”

-“ I don’t need to.”

-“ What ?”

-“ I don’t need to and you don’t have to worry about him.”

-“ Oh my God. You lied !”

-“ It was for a greater cause so it’s okay, right ?”

-“ Greater cause, my ass ! You just like to torture me.”

-“ Maybe…”

-“ I’m gonna–” Lando started before being cut off by someone calling them both to start filming, saving Oscar who just smirked and walked away.

He might have lied to have what he wanted but it wasn’t selfish if he just wanted his two friends to be happy so he didn’t feel too bad.

#f1 imagine #f1 #formula 1 #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fandom #f1 scenario #f1 x you #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris

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jacaerysgf · 2 days

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Chapter one: The return to the keep

c.s: You have finally returned to the red keep after over a decade. You see some familiar faces and,,, have the affections of more than one prince? what was going on...

w.c: 6.1k

c.w: not proofread, arryn!reader, basically a lot of set up, the boys just kinda being obsessed, men bickering... i think thats it

fic masterlist!

You stare at the large metal doors of the keep. You had been traveling on carriage fora week now, your back hurts, your legs hurt but you are finally here. for the first time in a very very long time.

The red keep. You remember the last time you had stepped foot in here like it was yesterday. It had been over a decade. You had been ten years old when you left but had been living in the keep since you were a babe. You made many lovely memories, and you had especially made some lovely friends. The children of rhaenyra and the children of alicent. You thought about them often as you were rather lonely in the eyrie with not having any siblings or there not being many other children there,

You were not invited to driftmark as it was purely a family affair and you remember them giving you hugs and saying goodbye, little did they or even you know that was the last time you would see them. You had stayed in the keep, trying to entertain yourself until they returned back until you received word from your mother to return home as she had heard of what had happened on driftmark and no longer believed the keep to be well suited for you.

You cried for awhile and begged your mother to let you go back, even if it was just a day to speak to them once more but she had refused and kept firm to her decision. Until a week ago when she received a raven hand written from rhaenyra herself stating that not only herself but her children had missed you and wished you would stay at court for awhile, at least until you find a husband. Of course your mother cannot refuse the queen so you packed up your things and you are now standing in the keep.

Your new home at least for awhile. It looks different. The area was very busy though that is not surprising considering probably everyone who has a title was in the keep today. You can see them hanging the signature sigil of house Targaryen all over the walls of the keep.

You can barely believe you were back here again.

Your mother hums at your side, hugging the shawl she was wearing closer to her chest. “It smells here. You truly had lived like this for that long?” Jessamyn, your mothers,,, ‘companion’ as she asked you to call her despite knowing the true nature of their relationship, shoves jeyne lightly with her elbow, “You should not say such things. She must be happy to be back in the keep for the first time do not ruin it.”

You do not get an opportunity to reply not that you would have anything to say before you are swiftly lead through the halls of the keep that you remembered and asked to stand relatively close to the throne. The hall is very full and very loud, full of chatting ladies and lords. You keep close to your mother, who glares at anyone who even tries to speak to her, she's not a very talkative women, very content with the small circle around her but she knows they do not wish to speak to her to keep friendly relations.

You are of marrying age, some would even say you are over due on getting married as many girls your age would already be having their second kid. Your mother never rushed your marriage, saying you are free to do as you pleased, she was trapped in her marriage and was more then happy when he died. She did not wish for the same fate for you and allowed you to pick your own husband, which lead to you rejecting suitors left and right.

You know one day you will have to marry, to continue your line, you are to be the next ruler of the eyrie as your mother states constantly. You need a husband, but you do not wish to worry about that now.

You had not expected the keep to be so packed but it is to be expected. Rhaenyra has officially named her heir and everyone had come to bend the knee. The room completely silences as rhaenyra is announced by a guard and you stand tall as she enters the room and greets the crowd.

You don’t mean to zone out, it is not her fault this whole affair is quite boring. Getting lost in your thoughts. You keep your head down until your mother swiftly smacks you on the shoulder and your head gets pulled up.

You freeze at the sight before you.

“Oh gods.” You find yourself whispering under your breath.

Jacaerys Velaryon.

Dawned in a Targaryen red cloak with a crown on his head he looked like a true king. With his long black curls and sharp jaw he looks like he was a statue come to life. A statue should be made of him in the finest gold as you believe that is the only thing that could even come close to doing him justice. He keeps his head held up high as people begin to get called up and they bend the knee without complaint.

You gulp. He is very different from the young boy you had known before. He was a man. A very handsome man. You two had been close when you were younger, he trailed around with you and would beg you to join him and his family for dinner. He was always sweet to you though you knew of his more teasing habits. You had not thought much about him when you were younger, only truly seeing him as a friend but him now?

You and your mother get called up to bend the knee. You try to keep your balance steady as you cling to your mothers arm the closer and closer you get to him. You two lock eyes and you swear you see a new glow in his irises as he gazes upon you.

His eyes widen as he does not take his eyes off you even when you bend down on your knee and lower your head. You try to keep your shaky breath in control as you close your eyes. If he was handsome from far away he was so much better up close. You did not know if your heart could handle this, the way it pounds as you stand and lower your head in a light bow to him. You expect to be dismissed and the next person to be called up but he instead takes a couple steps towards you and extends his hand out to you. You stare at it with wide eyes and look up at him, his expression is the same as before, but this time he has a light smile on his face.

You place your hand in his and he brings the back up to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on your skin his eyes never leaving yours before he lets his hand linger against yours for a moment before he slips from your grasp and takes the steps back. Before you can even process what had just happened your mother laces her arm with yours and walks you away, You can feel his eyes trail on your retreating form. Once you're far enough away from him you let out a shaky breath and lean against your mother who hums.

“He is certainly not subtle at all is he.” “Jeyne!”

Your skin heats and you cannot bring yourself to look at him throughout the rest of the ceremony. praying the ceremony will end swiftly and you will be able to retreat to a far corner far away from him.

Your dreams are crushed when the ceremony is finally over and you are quickly stopped while trying to retreat to a different room by a guard who requests you follow him, the queen had requested you.

You cling to your mother’s arm as you are lead through the halls, Jessamyn trailing to your right and places a comforting hand on your shoulder.

You were more so nervous about having to speak to them for the first time in a decade. You all have changed, you're worried you will not be able get along with them all as well as you used to.

You are now standing in what you remember to be one of the numerous lounge rooms in the keep. The guard tells you to wait here before he leaves the room. Your mom takes a seat on the couch and Jessamyn sits next to her. You however cannot stomach sitting down right now, you end up pacing back and forth, biting your nails lightly.

“Oh come on sit down. Do not worry so much.” Your mother pats the seat next to her and you shake your head, “What if i say something wrong?” “Im sure you could say nothing wrong to upset him i mean, we saw the way he was looking at you. You could murder his family and i'm sure he would forgive you.” “Oh definitely.”

“I was talking about the queen.” You grumble towards them and they simply look at one another and shake their heads.

Now you were nervous to see him even more. You would make a fool of yourself. But why do you care so much about making a fool of yourself in front of him? He was simply your childhood friend you were looking forward to seeing again, that was all.

Yet when rhaenyra walks in you all stand and bow you cant help the way as your head raises you look behind her to him.

“It is so wonderful to see you again y/n.” Rhaenyra walks over to you and gives you a hug which you are more than happy to reciprocate. “It is an honor to be in your presence once more my queen.” She smiles warmly at you as she pulls back, keeping her hands on your arms.

“How have you been fairing? Oh you have truly grown into a beautiful lady.” You bow your head to her and smile, “You are too kind my queen. I have been well. Though it does get rather lonely in the eyire. I am happy to be back.”

Her face changes at your answer. She seems very pleased with your answer. Maybe a bit too pleased, her face is laced with something akin to, mischievous? Like she is plotting something though you can’t put your finger on. But she pulls back away and eager turns to the side.

“Of course you remember my son.” “How could i forget.”

He smiles brightly at you and your answer as you bow your head to him. “My prince.” “Jace please, you are dear to me, you have no need to call me my prince.” You allow him to grab your hand lightly and watch as he brings it up to his lips once more. He puts down your hand but keeps it firmly in his grip. Not too tight but not loosely enough wear you could slip out of his grasp easily.

“I am so happy to see you Jace.” The grip he has one you tightens at your words, “Your words mean more to me than you know. I have missed you y/n.” When did he become such a sweet talker? He’s clearly been reading those books that he would always groan about getting assigned to by the maesters.

You notice that your mother and rhaenyra have entered conversation and you could see from the corner of your eye the way the three of them continue to eye the two of you. could they be any more obvious?

Well you will not allow them to stop you from conversing with Jacaerys. What was the harm? “Have you been well?” “Well enough. I find myself missing dragonstone sometimes. It is certainly odd being back in the keep after so long as im sure it is for you. But i am sure to be back on dragonstone in no time.” “Ah right, you are the prince of dragonstone of course.” He hums as he steps closer to you and you can feel his breath lightly breezing on your face. “You are not yet betrothed?”

His voice lowers into a whispers and deepens into a tone thats clearly only meant for you to hear. You take a deep breath attempting to calm yourself. If someone saw the two of you they would surely think he was about to kiss you. Maybe you did as well, but you should not think that.

“I an not.” “Is there any particular reason?” You hum, finally locking eyes with him to see his eyes already dead set on yours. “Maybe i have just not found the right man for me my prince.” You watch the look in his eyes darken at your words, the look on his face indescribably but almost more attractive than ever. “I am hopeful i shall find him during my stay at the keep.”

“I am rather certain you will, my lady.” He says with a certainty in his voice, like he is so sure he is willing to bet his life on it. You are not stupid you know he must be referring to himself. Yet the idea of the crowned prince, the heir to the iron throne, the future king of the six kingdoms, was willingly laying himself out in front of you like this. Many other men would simply be showering you in false affections to get you to spill affection for him but seems more than happy to show his hand to you early on.

“Maybe i will.” He continues to stare at you for a moment longer. The tension between you could be cut with a knife. You’re sure he wishes to say more but he looks over your shoulder before he pulls back, taking a step away from you.

You look back and notice the three women behind you seem to be finishing up their own conversation and turn to the two of you with pleased looks. “I am so sorry to cut this short but me and jace have a couple meetings to attend to.” You look back to him and brings your hand to his lips once more, allowing them to selfishly linger there as he speaks. “I shall see you.”

You grin. “I shall see you my prince.” He smiles once more and follows after his mother who left after a quick goodbye. You watch him leave, he gives you a final parting look before he leaves. You trying to quell the sound of your heart pounding in your chest.

The smile on your face does not drop until you look behind you and the two women are giving you amused looks. “What?”

They look at one another before they look back at you. “So when should i expect my first grandchild? Oh i bet it’ll have his hair,” “mother!” “Oh and my baby will be queen of the seven kingdoms, my heart hurts.” you groan as you watch her clutch her chest in mock agony and fall back into the couch. “You are being ridiculous.”

You do not wish to stay here and listen to them ramble about you and the prince so you swiftly begin to make your way towards the door. “I need some fresh air.” “Yes i would need some fresh air too if i was you. The tension between you two.” You let out another loud groan as you walk through the door and storm away, hearing their laughter as you walk down the hall.

You don’t know where you're headed. simply walking through the halls with no clear destination. You decide you will not think much about your interaction with him, or at least try to. You will just relax the rest of the day until you turn into bed. You have never thought much about suitors before what is so different about him? Maybe it is because you have known him for so long, you knew him at what was probably his weakest points of his life and he knew you at yours, maybe it is simply a mutual understanding of one another.

You are snapped out of your thoughts when you hear the loud commotion below you, finally looking around and noticing many people standing by the walls and leaning down to look. You grow curious and make your way closer, hearing the way the sounds of people in hushed chatter and the sound of metal clashing grows louder.

When you look over the edge and gain sight of the men a chill runs down your spine. You can simply only stare at the way his hair flows left and right while he dodges or the way he grips the sword he has in his hands so tightly you can see veins lining the back of his hands and surely up his forearm though its covered by the black outfit he dawns. You’re sure your mouth has been open so long you are catching flies. so completely mesmerized by the sigh below you.

The man he is against suddenly falls on his back and you see the smirk dawn his face as he points the sword to the fallen knights neck. The courtyard is filled with claps though you cannot even bring yourself to move, watching and waiting.

He helps the man up who removes his helm and you can see his face now. Criston Cole who smacks his shoulder and says a couple words to him. You watch the interaction with eager eyes. Criston suddenly looks up and his gaze locks with yours as a look of shock graces his face. You suddenly get pulled back from whatever trance you had been in and meekly attempt to smile at him. He has never been anything but kind to you but you know of his past strained relationship with jacaerys and lucerys so you have always worried he does not like you much.

He looks back to him and gets closer to him, whispering in his ear as he looks at you once more before his gaze drops again back to the younger man in front of him. He suddenly turns around and his eye locks with yours. Aemond. You can barely recognize him, what had happened to the crying boy who would get teased endlessly by his brother and nephews? He looked like a warrior, with that sword in his hand and the shield in the other. You bow your head, not sure what else you are meant to do.

He walks closer to you and you place your elbows on the half wall, leaning over it to look at him as he looks up at you. “It seems the maiden has blessed me this day for she has brought down an angel to greet me.” You flush, when did these men get so romantic? “You are far too kind to me my prince.” A small smile graces his face as he continues to stare at you, you can hear the ladies around you whispering but you put on a smile and attempt to ignore it.

“I am merely stating the truth my lady, you have only grown into the essence of beauty itself. I am grateful to be graced with your presence.” “When did you get so charismatic?” “Maybe i have been practicing for the day you should return to me.”

You shake your head at him as you can’t help the grin that grows on your face. if you were being honest you were not as close as you would have liked to be with Aemond as a child, especially not as close as you were to Jacaerys. It was hard to be when all he did was push you away, though you did always try to apologize to him whenever the boys were picking on him but that's pretty much as far as it had gone. You had wanted to be his friend, even Alicent had tried to encourage him to talk to you but all he would do is run away or say something mean to you that he had not meant.

“You are a fine fighter my prince.” “Thank you my lady. Would you stay and watch?” “You wish to show off?”

You watch as he takes a couple steps back, yet he keeps his eye on you, “I believe with you cheering me on i shall win every fight.” “By the looks of it you do not need me, you would win these fights regardless.”

He says nothing more simply making his way back over to criston with a pleased look on his face. You watch as he turns his head every once in awhile to make sure you’re still there. You stay. You watch him fight with all the different white cloaks, winning every match. It reminds you of being back in the eyrie when the main source of entertainment was watching the knights of the vale train. Though he was much more skilled than those men, much more skilled than any man you had ever seen. You could wager he was the best swordsman in the keep.

As the sun begins to set a maid approaches you. “The queen has invited you to dine with the family tonight my lady. Would you like to freshen up before?” Of course you were being invited to dinner. An odd pit fills your stomach as you think about the fact this would be the first time you would be seeing all of them together the only people you have seen are jacaerys, aemond, rhaenyra, and glimpses of daemon, lucerys and joffery at the ceremony early today though you had not gotten to speak to them.

“Please.” You glance at the training grounds once more and see aemond and criston looking at you. You bow and aemond nods to you before you walk off with the maid.

When you enter your room you let out a gasp as you see another maid fiddling around with a large bouquet of flowers on the main table of your room. “Gorgeous are they not?” You approach the huge bouquet with surprise, “Who is this from?” “Prince jacaerys my lady. How romantic.” You stare at the array of red roses in front of you and allow your fingers to graze against them, bring your face close enough to even smell them. How did he have this prepared so quickly? You can even see that each rose has been dethorned.

Your heart swells at the gesture. “It truly is.” You will have to thank him.

You finally allow yourself to relax as the maids bath you. You could not believe today. You did not know how you felt. You think you are happy to be back in the keep. It is certainly odd to see these halls once more and it is even more crazy to be staying in the same room you were when you were a young girl again. In an odd way it felt like home, a lot more than the vale did. There is certainly more going on here than the vale.

You can help but let your mind linger on aemond and jacaerys. They both cross your mind in an odd way. You do not know what to think of either of them, they were both clearly trying to win your affection and this put you in a rather tricky situation. You think both men are nice, yet you do not know them anymore so you cant say who you like more. You suppose that's what the purpose of this trip is.

This clouds you mind and thoughts all the way up until you are walking into the dinning room. You are early, the only people in the room are alicent, rhaenyra and daemon who were seated at the table chatting with one another. They look at you and smile, “Ah you are here.” They stand to greet you and you wave your hands, “Please you do not need to stand up. I am merely a lady.” “Oh nonsense you are pretty much family.” You smile warmly at them rhaenyra urges you to take a seat.

You pull out a chair in the middle, allowing you to sit in direct eye sight of them who all look upon you. “You look wonderful.” You thank them and awkwardly fiddle with the fabric of your dress under their gaze. “I am hoping you day went well, i apologize again for leaving so suddenly.” You shake your head, “It had gone well my queen. do not fret. I spent it in the training yard.” “The training yard?” “Yes my lady, prince aemond had asked me to stay and watch him practice.”

You watch as a pleased look graces alicent face as she leans forward, “Did he now?” “Yes he seemed rather insistent i would be his good luck charm.” This has alicent beaning as she looks over to rhaenyra in almost what looks to be a challenge. You watch as rhaenyra stiffly smiles, “oh how wonderful.” Daemon shakes his head and picks up his goblet while chuckling. “That reminds me. You should join us in the royal box tomorrow for the tourney. Im sure my son would be more than happy about it.” You catch the way alicent eye twicthes for a moment and rhaenyra merely continues to smile at you. You look between the two women as you attempt to hide your horror. Were they trying to set you up with their sons?

“I would be honored your grace.” “It is settled then.” “Yes the royal box has such a nice view, im sure aemond will impress you with his skills.”

This could not be happening.

“He is very skilled from what i gathered. I am eager to see him on the field.”

As you begin to pray for a saving grace you get one as the doors open and you hear footsteps approach. The chair next to you gets pulled out and a body plops into it with a groan. “I am starving.”

His eyes hit you and his smirk dawns his face. “Ah lady arryn, the talk of the keep today.” “It is nice to see you prince aegon.” “You do not need to lie i know it is not.” You say nothing as alicent scolds him for his words but all he does is shrug, taking a long chug from his chalice. Helaena follows soon after and you greet her from your chair, remember her adversion to touch and she seems grateful for it as he takes her place next to aegon. Soon enough more and more people flow into the room, you stand to greet the dragon sisters and lucerys who all give you hugs and warm greetings, you feel your dread leave your body for awhile until you sit back down and the chair next to you gets pulled back and jacaerys fills the spot next to it.

“My lady, it is nice to see you again.”

“Always a pleasure my prince.”

He smiles and opens his mouth to speak until you feel a presence behind you and turn to see aemond place a hand on aegons seat, aegon looks up at him and grins, “brother.” aemond keeps a stoic look as he continues to glare at aegon. You begin to stand, “You can sit-” “No. Aegon get up.” The man in question groans, “But i like it here brother.” “get up i will not ask again.” You sit down slowly as aegon rolls his eyes and stands from his seat. Sending you a wink before he walks off, “We shall speak again my lady.”

You say nothing as he sits down, merely a nod of acknowledgement. You keep your gaze forward which just so happens to be staring direction at daemon who humorous looks between the three of you. You fear you might go mad.

The dinner starts with a silent prayer, you merely continue to keep your eyes open and look at the table. You have never been a religious person so you allow yourself to look at aemond for a quick moment who appear to be lost in prayer before turning your attention to jacaerys who is already looking at you. You weakly smile at him before turning away quickly just as everyone begins to raise their heads.

The table begins to fill with chatter as the food begins to get brought out. The three of you however stay dead silent. You are going to die. You look over to your mother to see if you can get her help but she is lost in conversation with alicent. You try not to groan as you fold your hands in your lap. Did things truly have to be so awkward?

As you somber in your despair suddenly a very family scent hits your nose and you sit up, looking over your shoulder and staring at the plate the maid drops at the empty spot in front of you amazed. It was your favorite, a dish that was near impossible to get in the reach due to the ingredients and how hard it was to even get food in to the eyrie in the first place.

“It is your favorite right?” You turn to your left in shock as he begins to speak, a light smile graces his face. “I had it requested for tonight.” You lightly open your mouth in shock, you hear a tsk from your right and a light groan. jacaerys is furious with himself how come he had not thought of that?

“It is my prince i am shocked you remember that. Thank you.” He shakes his head, “I would be a fool not to remember such things about you, my lady.”

You eager take some onto your plate and take a bit, letting out a pleased hum as you can’t help but smile. It reminds you of your youth here in the keep, many fond memories come flowing to mind. You were shocked he had even remember this about you as you two truly never spoke much. How much did he know about you that you had no clue about?

As the silence between you all is much more palpable you turn to jacaerys. “I wished to thank you jace.” He lightly coughs into the cup he was sipping from as he turns to you with wide eyes. “Whatever for y/n?” You do not see aemond glaring at jacaerys from behind you, he did not like that you two were on first name bases while you only called him my prince.

“The flowers, they are oh so gorgeous.” He beams, “It is the least i could do. I would have gotten you more but i was short on time.” “I am happy you thought of me no matter what my prince.” “I am always thinking of you.”

You ignore the light scoff from your left but you do not miss the way jacaerys eyes stray and he begins to glare behind you. You quickly turn to aemond, wishing to avoid them arguing. “I have heard you will compete in tomorrow tourney my prince.” His stoic face drops as he turns to you, he hums and nods taking a sip from his cup, “If you bless me with your favor i am guaranteed too secure the victory.”

“Has the queen already asked you about sitting in the royal box?” You nod as you glance quickly at jace. “Yes i will be joining you.” “Very good.” Aemonds face turns devious and your stomach drops.

“It is a shame you are not competing jace, what ever was the reason you gave again?” Jacaerys cluches the cup he has in his grip tightly as a maid walks over to refill it. He does not allow himself to look at aemond simply keeping his gaze onto you. “I am sad to say i have not picked up a sword in a while i am a bit rusty. Some of us have more important things to do then swing a sword all day. I am the heir after all.”

You wish to throw your head back and groan. The tension between the three of you was so noticeable but you tried to simply look at your plate and take a few small bites from it. You had basically lost your appetite. This was the last thing you wished to be happening. Suddenly a hand taps you on the shoulder and you turn around. A hand suddenly shoots out and you notice the band in the corner had begun to play a waltz.

You smile lightly and grab his hand, not sparing a glance to the two men who grow furious as they watch you walk hand and hand with lucerys who turns his head back and sticks his tongue out at them. Why had they not thought of that?

You both bow your head at one another and grab each others hand as you begin to dance the simply dance. “You are welcome.” You sigh at his smile, “Was it truly so obvious?” “to everyone yes.” “Well i shall thank you formally then my prince.” “Luce please. You are basically family. Well you are too be family soon i gather. Whether it be my sister or my aunt. Though i would much rather you be my sister.”

You shake your head, “It is too soon.” “But it is not too soon for them to be fighting over you like dogs?” You have no reply so you attempt to change the topic. “I have heard of your recent engagement to lady rhaena, congratulations.” At this a blush dawns his face up to his ears. He looked adorable. “She is very pretty.” “That she is.”

For a short while a silence falls over you but it does not last you feel the heated stares of the men at the table. “You have gotten much better at dancing.” “You do not need to say that i know i have stepped on your foot one too many times.” as if on cue he steps on your foot again causing you both to go into a fit of laughter. Lucerys looks over your shoulder as he lightly scoffs, “I am shocked one of them has not tried to cut in.” He spins you around and you are able to get a good look at the men who both cannot take their eyes off you. “Do you truly think they will try?” “No. They are cowards.”

You tilt your head at him and he continues to giggle. The song soon ends and they watch from the table as you two bow at each other once more and aemond tries to stop his eye twitching as he watches lucerys whisper into your ear and you double over laughing, lacing your arm with his as he leads you back to your seat.

“My feet are killing me after that.” They do not understand why the two of you bust out laughing at your words and lucerys walks away with a small wave. You continue the dinner with a smile on your face and neither of them say another word much to your surprise. It is not that you do not wish to talk to them if anything that's the only thing you wish for but not if they are going to be acting like fools.

The dinner soon enough wraps up and you stand. The two men quickly standing up after you.

“Allow me to escort you back to your room.” You stare at the two of them as they speak over each other and cross your arms over your chest. “I am more then capable of walking back myself. Though i appreciate the offer. I hope the two of you will be more well behaved the next time we speak. Goodnight.”

And with that you swiftly turn your back and walk off with a shake of your head. They were ridiculous this whole situation was absolutely ridiculous. You just pray that tomorrow will be better and you will be able to get your mind and your heart in check.

taglist (open!) @smurfelle @venmondiese @winter-soldier-101 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @councilofcastamere @tssf-imagines @atargaryenlover @possiblyafangirl @bibliophile221b

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f1fnatic · 1 day

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SOUL TIED ⤿ c. leclerc 16

→ ( in which. . . ) you, a firm believer in soulmates, find 'the one' though he doesn't believe in soulmates himself.

→ ( fanfic genre. . . ) written

→ ( pairing. . . ) charles leclerc x reader gender not specified

→ ( content warnings/disclaimers. . . ) none!

→ ( author's note. . . ) had this idea brewin in my mind for a while. thought it would be fun to write about a soulmate believer and a soulmate denier. hope you enjoy! see end for more

→ ( masterlist )

you were a strong believer in soulmates. twin flames, soul ties, and the red string theory were a few you lived by. but, lately, you began to think that you would never find yours.

it hurt you deep in your heart seeing those around you fall deeply in love with their other halves, while you were stuck on the sidelines, waiting till yours came around. you wanted to scream and yell at the universe, blaming whatever higher power for the many failed relationships you have endured. it was like a stake was being plunged through your chest every time you saw healthy relationships. everyone had their person, so why didn't you have yours?

at the beginning, you were hopeful. thinking that your current boyfriend was the one. though, as time went on, you became less and less hopeful. you yearned to feel that strong connection of love, to feel your heart physically skip a beat and your palms get sweaty. to have butterflies flutter in your core each time you made eye contact. you needed your person. you wanted your person.

some nights you lay awake, restless and staring at the ceiling, wondering what your soulmate would look like. would they be taller than you? have blue, green, or brown eyes? blond or black hair; maybe no hair at all?

you were tired of the endless cycle; find a man, fall in love, find out he's not 'the one', and break it off. time was a cruel thing, and it was laughing in your face.

charles never really understood the infatuation others had toward soulmates. he never was able to wrap his head around the fact that people would dictate their relationships by whether or not their partner was 'the one.'

sure, charles might've been a little bit of a playboy. it didn't help that his exes were almost all a part of the same friend group. he couldn't help himself, they were all stunning. and, who wouldn't want to date an f1 driver?

if he was being honest with himself, which is a rare occasion, then he would admit that yes, he was getting upset that he couldn't maintain a long-term relationship. he was fed up with starting relationships and then ending them almost a year later.

truly, it was starting to affect his work life. he started to become spacy during team meetings, wasn't performing well in the car, and would give short answers during interviews.

charles wanted to curse at time and blame it for never giving him enough of it. he was getting desperate, he wanted to find his person.

somehow, by some higher power, or by just plane luck, you won tickets to the monaco grand prix. to say you were ecstatic would be an understatement, you were over the moon. you had been following f1 for a while, since you were a kid actually. you remember watching the concerningly fast cars went around the seemingly endless circle with your father. if he was still around, you definitely would have taken him with you.

charles nerve's were through the roof. yet another home race, yet more expectations to live up to. there was something special about a home race, but in the moment, charles couldn't think of one good reason about his home race being special. there wasn't an f2 feature race, so his brother wouldn't be watching. his mom got a sudden influx of customers at her salon, and lorenzo was with charlotte for a vacation.

standing in the starting strip was a surreal experience. never would you have thought you would be standing where the metal machines would be in an hours time. the area was bustling with bodies. celebrities, media personnel, drivers, and their respective teams were all around you. things were loud. you could barely hear yourself think. the ferrari cap on your head stood out against the dark navy blue of redbull. ferrari was a few rows back while redbull was at the front.

charles' mind was racing. so many thoughts at such a fast speed cycling through his brain. he was attempting to make his way to his car so he could complete his pre-race warm-up with his trainer, but he kept getting stopped. fans and interviewers wanting a moment of his time. he was heavily tempted to say no, but that wouldn't be good for his pr officer. so, he stayed. eventually though, he had to excuse himself. or rather, his trainer grabbed him by his arm and dragged him to his car to finish preparing for the race.

in the bustle of everything, you failed to hear the shouts of a certain driver's name. that is until a body collided with yours and two pairs of arms wrapped themselves like snakes around your waist. your cap was knocked off of your head and stolen before you could say anything. you turned to look at who kept you from falling and your heart immediately quickened. butterflies fluttered deep in your stomach and hands started to get clammy.

stunning hazel eyes lock onto yours. a hot pink blush began to run from your neck to your cheeks. brown hair perfectly complimented his features. a bright smile creeping onto his mouth. this was him, you could feel it. you didn't know why, but he, he was your soulmate.

charles didn't know the feeling blooming in his chest. but the moment he bumped into you, a million sparks erupted like fireworks throughout his body. it was like he was engulfed in eternal sunshine. he loved it, he wanted more of it.

mere seconds felt like hours, days even, of just the two of you standing there. the crowd disappeared. the track cleared, it was just you and the ferrari driver. you were too stunned to speak, and it seemed as though charles was as well.

he had never seen someone so beautiful. he felt a breath trapped in his throat, struggling to get out. the way your eyes stared at him through your long eyelashes made him want to crumble to the floor. much to his dismay, charles was harshly snapped back to reality when a hand slapped him on the back, making him remove his hands from your waist.

a faint pout settled on your lips, the warmth of his large hands lingering. he politely excused himself with a smile, explaining that he had to continue preparing for the race. you smiled back, understanding the rush to resume his tasks.

as charles turned to walk away, the warm feeling that bloomed in his chest was now wilting into a bitter cold. he was disappointed that he didn't try to make a short conversation with you, maybe ask for your number to keep in touch as he knew he would most likely never see you again.

you watched his retreating figure weave in and out of the mob of people. disappointment settled heavy in your stomach. the pout on your lips deepened as he got further and further away. you cursed yourself for not saying anything, being too starstruck to speak.

walking away with a heavy heart and even heavier feet, you make your way to the ferrari hospitality. the race was about to start, meaning that hopefully, charles would finally win his home race. you were rooting for him, truly. especially after your little run-in on the start-stop line.

after the race ended with a historic p1 result from charles, you managed to find yourself below the podium. seeing charles stand so proudly as his anthem blared made you smile.

suddenly while he was looking around, he locked eyes with you. at first you thought he was looking at his team who was just in front of you, but then he pointed at you, smiled and waved. a blush made its way to your face.

after the podium celebrations concluded, someone in ferrari gear approached you asking you to come with them. nerves radiated throughout your body, why would a ferrari personnel want you? they lead you through the garage and into the back by the drivers room. they then knocked on charles' door and left. you stood there frozen, not knowing what to do.

soft shuffling was heard on the other side of the door then it swung open, revealing the podium sitter that made you blush beyond recognition.

charles didn't know what came over him, one second he was on the podium pride swimming around him and the next asking his pr manager to find you. he knew it was silly, but he couldn't help it. you were beautiful.

that same feeling came back to him once he saw you standing in the doorway. he felt like a schoolboy.

"hi." charles sighed out. he wasn't really sure where to start, i mean, what much could you have in common?

"hi." you respond simply. a confused expression sat on your face, what on earth were you doing here?

a very awkward silence sat suspended in the air. you hugged yourself, a protective gesture that charles picked up on. he dropped his hands to his side, trying to open up the failing conversation.

thoughts were running through your mind. a nagging feeling clawed at you. you knew this was 'the one,' so why was it so unbelievably awkward?

"listen," charles starts, left hand out in front of him and his right rubbing the nape of his neck, "i know this may seem crazy, but when we bumped into each other before the race, i got a feeling that i haven't been able to shake away." he looks up to you trying to gauge your reaction.

you nodded before saying, "i know what you mean."

relief flushes over his body. his mind came to a slowing stop, he was glad you knew what he was talking about.

"i've been a stong believer in soulmates since i was a little kid and when you caught me, i don't know how to explain it, but it felt like the universe was telling me 'this is the one.'" you express. a blush began to creep up your neck, slightly dusting your cheeks in pink.

charles looked away shyly. you had described exactly how he felt when he prevented you from falling on the track. it felt nice how quick you were to understand, he was sure he sounded like a broken record.

"well then," he says "you care if i get you a new cap?"

whoop another fic done and dusted! trying to make a dent in all of my drafts :') anyways, if you would like to be on the taglist, comment!!! requests and feedback are welcome! make sure to leave a comment and kudos as well (only if you want :P)

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izelascendant · 2 days

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Sportsmanlike

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Rating | Mature Summary | Young passionate tennis players messing around with lots of plot and complexity. Pairing | f!Original Character x Art Donaldson x Tashi Duncan x Patrick Zweig Word Count | 3.7K Tags | Tennis, Competition, Love Triangles (Squares?), Jealousy, Plot, Emotional Infidelity, Eventual smut, Eventual Romance, Eventual Relationships Author's note | I haven written anything in FOREVER. I'm still such a noob at tumblr and it still confuses me (I'm loyal to ao3), so I wasn't sure of what the best way to organize this was. There will be multiple chapters.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Sportsmanlike on AO3 | Chapter 1 - US Open 2006, Chapter 2 - Finalist Fusion, Chapter 3 - Aftermath and Accolades, ...

US Open, 2006

Her

Not everyone is eligible to play in the US Open Tennis. The event is exclusive to players who have earned a certain ranking, as well as a few slots offered by invitation. That’s how she finds herself competing after having received a 'wild card' invitation. Surrounded by a supportive network of people who believe in her skills, she’s being pushed into the prestigious fourth and final Grand Slam tournament of the year—even though she is still technically considered an 'amateur'. In fact, it feels like everyone around her believes in her abilities more than she does herself.

She feels strangely out of place among the other players, all fully devoted worshipers of the sport. Her entourage is composed of tennis fanatics—who live and breathe the sport—while she feels disconnected from it all. Her skills are sure to be praised, but deep down, she still feels like she doesn't belong. Unlike them, tennis isn't the center of her life. She doesn't rely on tennis for survival—in fact, she wouldn't mind if it vanished, which sets her apart from the fiercely competitive and confrontational athletes.

Nonetheless, she plays well. Perhaps too well for someone who doesn’t take it as seriously as her opponents. It seems almost unfair how easily she gets through each round.

Her heart races as she wins match after match. The contrast between her polite, gracious demeanor and the fiery, hot-tempered reactions of her competitors is stark. Some throw fits of rage and tantrums. She can't help but offer sincere apologies and genuine praise to everyone she encounters, even in the most intense moments of the game. As the sweat drips down her forehead, she smiles coyly and humbly accepts the accolades, feeling a mix of exhilaration and sheepishness.

Art and Patrick

The umpire's voice echoes through the stadium, making the final announcements to the crowd as the eager spectators find their seats. Patrick adjusts his position beside Art, spreading his legs casually. Art, meanwhile, plays with the tag displayed around his neck, his eyes darting around the sea of merchandise that carries the "US Open 2006" logo. The atmosphere is thick with anticipation and excitement.

“D’you know about her opponent?” Patrick asks after letting out a small burp, gesturing towards Anna Mueler as she emerges onto the court, her entrance acknowledged by the applause and cheers of the crowd, and with her waving back in response.

“What about her?” Art replies indifferently.

“She’s a wild card; they brought her out, and nobody really knows who she is, but she’s been killing it. I’m just eager to see what she’s all about.”

“Huh.” Art remarks, narrowing his eyes a little.

They both shift their focus back to the court as the umpire announces her presence. Unlike Mueler, her entrance is reserved and humble, merely offering a modest wave to her coach as she acknowledges the applause. While her demeanor may be understated, there’s a sense of graciousness.

She strides onto her side of the court, grabbing her racket. Her copper hair is messily pinned into a casual ponytail, with a smattering of freckles dusting her shoulders, revealing her toned physique. Her simple dark green outfit clings to the contours of her figure—though her appearance is less formal compared to other female players, there’s an undeniable charm to her aloof demeanor, drawing them in.

Patrick leans in, studying her intently upon her settling into position. Art does the same by resting his elbows on his knees.

“She’s a pretty thing, too.” Patrick turns his head over at Art with a smug grin.

Art doesn’t reply but he sure can’t disagree.

“Ready? Play.”

The game starts as Anna Mueler serves, with virtually no dramatic build-up—Art and Patrick's eyes dart incessantly between the two. The atmosphere is almost eerily silent, save for the sounds of racket impacts and grunts of exertion from the competitors. They observe with bated breath, captivated by the swift movement of her legs as she dances across the court, her fiery locks swishing back and forth in sync with her brief skirt fluttering about, revealing the shorts hidden underneath.

She scores her third point, marking a victorious blow against Mueler with a powerful one-handed backhand. Her movements are noticeably disorganized and bordering on sloppy, and yet, to her advantage, it seems to be playing off brilliantly .

“Holy shit.” Art mutters, undeniably taken aback.

Patrick smugly looks toward Art, wearing a "told you so" expression on his face. As they lean in to get a closer look, their mouths hang slightly open, both fixated on the ongoing match. The intensity of her actions is so captivating that it borders on pathetic as they watch, their eyes glued to her every move. With each passing minute, their gazes follow the way her rosy cheeks redden and her breaths grow increasingly labored.

Surprisingly, she doesn't appear to be nearly as exhausted as Mueler, even despite her unstructured, chaotic playing style. She graciously acknowledges each point won by her opponent, a polite nod or smile as Mueler gains momentum. Her attitude leaves Patrick utterly amazed—given his past moments of unsportsmanlike behavior.

“How the fuck is she so unbothered?” Patrick ogles at her, his head unintentionally tipping to the side as he takes in her every move.

Unsurprisingly, he receives no reply from Art, as his awestruck state turns him speechless.

Mueler, her opponent, lashes out in absolute disbelief after the final point is scored, impulsively smashing her racket against the court floor in a fit of frustration.

She flashes a smug, coy smile as she glances at her coach, as though downplaying her victory like a stroke of pure luck. She ambles towards the net, extending her hand towards her defeated opponent, only to have it rebuffed with a heated outburst in a foreign language as Mueler storms away in a huff. She’s quickly interrupted as her friends, family, and well-wishers swarm around to celebrate her win.

As Art exhales deeply, Patrick locks eyes with him, his grin crooked but full of enthusiasm. “We’ve gotta talk to her.”

Tashi

Tashi Duncan seemed to have beat them to it.

“Hey,” She says as she approaches her after the crowd of family and friends has dissipated from her entourage. “Great game. You absolutely killed Anna.”

She meets Tashi’s eye with a warm, contagious beam, her cheeks flushed with a mix of lingering exertion from the match and genuine happiness at the interaction. She giggles softly, letting her bag fall gently to the ground as she tentatively steps forward, wholly captivated by their interaction. "I feel bad," she admits with a sheepish half-smile, her laughter bubbling up as she feels Tashi's gaze linger on her.

“Don’t.” Tashi replies, unfazed. “She’s a sore loser and a racist bitch, anyway.”

Her laughter continues to fill the air, even as a hint of tension underlies Tashi’s words. Sensing the need to maintain composure, she tries to keep her nerves in check, reminding herself that they're only facing each other in the finals—easy-peasy.

“I’ve, uh—been watching your games, too.” She breaks the slightly uneasy silence with sincere appreciation, her smile slightly crooked as she tries to hide any hint of infatuation. "You’re incredible," she says admiringly, looking up at Tashi and attempting to mask any potential starstruckness in her eyes.

Tashi's gaze remains unwavering for a moment before she softly breaks into a gentle smile.

“I’m kind of on the fence about playing against you.” She instinctively reaches up to scratch the back of her neck in a self-conscious manner, and a soft chuckle escapes her lips.

Despite the growing sense of ease, a hint of insecurity still lingers, as if she's silently questioning if she's made a good impression thus far. It’s Tashi Duncan, after all.

“Why? Scared I’m gonna wipe you out?” There's a hint of challenge in Tashi's voice as she responds.

To her surprise, her opponent's response is one of continuous admiration—it's rare to see such genuine enthusiasm, and it's almost contagious in its sweetness.

“I’d actually prefer that.” She continues to look at her with a sort of fascination. “It probably means more to you than it does to me, and—” she hesitates for a second, “I wanna stay on good terms with you.” She can feel herself blush a little. “—Hopefully.”

Their whole interaction is refreshing to Tashi.

“Oh, so you’re thinking of going easy on me?”

“I don’t think I’ll need to.”

A silent understanding seems to form between them, a bond taking shape through the few words they've shared. The smiles they exchange are genuine, laced with a subtle sense of kinship. Perhaps it's the shared adrenaline of the game, or maybe it's the knowledge that they'll soon be competing against each other in the finals—whatever the reason, there's an undeniable connection forming.

“You coming to the party on Long Island? Adidas sponsorship.” Tashi asks, breaking the silence once again.

A flicker of excitement dances in her eyes as she hears the question. "Oh, I doubt I was invited—Or maybe my coach just forgot to mention it.” She lets out a nervous chuckle.

“Fuck your coach.” Tashi shrugs nonchalantly, her hands disappearing into her pockets. “I'm the one inviting you.”

She smiles and nods in return. “Then I’ll be there. For sure, yeah.”

Tashi, amused by her opponent's excitement, can't help but wear a smirk on her face.

Fire and Ice

Donaldson & Zweig vs. Shaffer & Buchanan.

This match determines whether Art and Patrick make it to the finals, a pivotal moment in their journey and a do-or-die scenario that determines their fate. The two of them are fully focused on the game; their expressions are a mixture of determination and playfulness. Art's golden hair is tucked away behind the white cap he wears backwards, while Patrick's dark curls bounce around as he moves, his features framed by the shadows cast by the bright lights of the court. They exchange smug grins and nudge each other occasionally, a bond of support and friendship that makes their journey through the tournament all the more enjoyable.

From their vantage points in the crowd, she and Tashi watch intently, their eyes fixed on the match unfolding before them. You would expect a fierce rivalry between two opponents in such high-pressure situations.

Yet, there they are, sitting side by side, their gazes glued to the court.

Sure, they had only met yesterday, and their situation had already become somewhat volatile due to public opinion, but she had no intentions of outshining Tashi—leaving a lasting impression on Tashi—a sense of mutual respect and admiration cancelling out any potential rivalry.

As she reaches for her cup, she feels the unexpected touch of Tashi's hand on her knee—a small gesture that sends a rush of warmth through her body. Who knew such a simple gesture of physical touch from Tashi Duncan could be so exhilarating.

Tashi leans into her, pointing down at the court in full focus mode. “The blonde one; look at how receptive he is.”

She can’t help but smile a little at her level of focus. She also can’t deny how beautiful she looks when she’s like this. Leaning in in return, she tilts her head slightly and nods towards where Tashi is pointing.

She takes a moment to admire Tashi's intense concentration, her smile growing wider as she admires how beautiful she looks when she’s focused. She leans in closer, her head tilting slightly as she follows Tashi's gaze. A slight nod of her own acknowledges Tashi's observations, a mutual understanding as their minds sync in the moment, focused on the same objective.

“Your bet is on those two?”

“Hm,” Tashi leans back a little, a thoughtful expression on her face. “The other one’s nailing those dropshots.”

She follows Tashi's gaze intently, her own eyes flickering from left to right as she takes in every move on the court.

“They’re good.” She watches the dynamic between the duo below with a hint of surprise, her eyes widening at their unexpected coordination. She turns her head towards Tashi, unable to resist the sly smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “Never as good as you, though.”

Tashi eyes her suspiciously, her gaze narrowing as she attempts to decipher the real motive behind her compliment. "Are you trying to butter me up for some kind of weird strategy reason?" she asks, her tone a mix of seriousness and playfulness.

There's a trace of amusement in her eyes as she waits for a response, clearly enjoying the banter and the lightheartedness of their interaction.

She chuckles through her nose, shaking her head slowly before she responds genuinely, “You know you’re going to win tomorrow. I have no ulterior motives.”

Tashi leans in closer, her hand brushing a little higher on her opponent's leg, a hint of challenge in her voice as she teases her. "Playing little miss humble, are we?" The touch is subtle yet deliberate, and her words carry a hint of competitiveness.

She laughs softly in return, her cheeks flushing slightly at the unexpected touch from Tashi. She takes a breath, her voice filled with determination. "I'm serious," she reiterates, her eyes locked on Tashi's. "Even if I feel like I am going to win, I’ll hold back."

Tashi pauses for a moment, a slight furrow in her brow, a hint of surprise tinged with doubt as she looks at her counterpart.

“I don’t want you to let me win. I want to win.”

“And you will.” She responds without missing a beat, her gaze locking with Tashi's in a way that speaks volumes—as if she had forever been loyal to her.

The bleachers erupt in applause as Patrick scores the final point, the sound drowning out the intense moment between the two girls. The blond boy sprints towards his partner, the duo celebrating and laughing uncontrollably, their joy infectious in the moment.

The sight brings a smile to both girls' faces.

“Well, we’ve got our finalists.” She raises an eyebrow at Tashi, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Fire and Ice," she muses, a sly grin spreading across her face. "I've always preferred the heat." She leans back slightly, her braid cascading over her shoulder.

“And I’ve always preferred the cold.” She replies, her voice filled with teasing enthusiasm.

Long Island, pre-finals party

Tashi and her girl

She stands amidst the gathering of tennis enthusiasts, friends, and family, her heart pounding with both excitement and anticipation. The prospect of mingling with the elite in the tennis world is both intimidating and thrilling. The combination of nerves and anticipation dances in her chest, fueling her determination to make the most of the night.

Tashi's heels click against the pavement as she approaches, a seductive whistle escaping her lips as her eyes rake over her opponent's figure. A confident smirk plays at her lips as she takes in the sight of her, her approach oozing with charm and assertiveness.

Her voice drops to a low, playful tone, a mixture of charm and shyness lacing her words as she responds with a simple "Hi."

Tashi looks stunning in the strapless royal blue dress, her hair down and loose curls cascading around her face while the redhead in front of her wears an equally beautiful gown, her hair pinned up with a couple of strands falling loosely by the sides of her face.

She's taken aback for a moment as Tashi steps closer, her heart skipping a beat as she finds herself enveloped in a tight embrace. The unexpected hug leaves her slightly flustered, her cheeks flushing ever so slightly.

“Glad you could make it.” Tashi's breath is warm against her ear, the smirk on Tashi's face only intensifying.

“You look fucking amazing.” She chuckles nervously, her attempt to hide her infatuation with Tashi failing miserably.

Hand in hand, they navigate their way towards the dance floor, their fingers intertwined as they make a brief stop at the nearest drink stand. With a playful glance, they mix a dash of liquor into their soft drinks in hopes of not being caught. As they weave through the crowd, Tashi regales her with juicy secrets and gossip about the event sponsors and attendees, their conversation flowing effortlessly, and—once again, paradoxically—it feels like there’s no sense of rivalry between them whatsoever.

Patrick and Art

The two boys stand a couple feet away from the main crowd, their gazes pathetically locked on the two girls dancing together on the makeshift dance floor. Patrick holds the bottle of his Coca-Cola up to his mouth, a tiny sigh escaping his lips as he watches them from afar. Art, meanwhile, has one hand casually shoved in the pocket of his jeans, the other holding his drink.

Art leans in, a hint of surprise in his voice, "I didn't know she was friends with Tashi Duncan."

“Girls are like that; they act nice to each other all the time. They probably hate each other.” Patrick chimes in, sharing his theory about the girls' behavior.

“No way, man.” Art shakes his head. “Look at them; they look like—like they’ve known each other forever.”

Patrick playfully nudges his friend's arm, his smirk widening as he suggests, “Like us?” He looks back in their direction. “You almost can’t tell they’re competing against each other in the finals.”

"Yeah, just like us," Art replies with a chuckle, his expression tinged with a hint of self-deprecation. "I'm still sharing a hotel room with the guy who's set to beat me in the finals."

Patrick gives Art a firm pat on the shoulder, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "I've already told you I'll let you win," he says, his voice filled with playful determination.

Their attention drifts back to the dance floor, their gazes drawn to the spectacle before them. The music pumps through the air, the beat energizing the dancers as they move in sync with the rhythm. Both Art and Patrick find themselves captivated by the sight of the girls dancing, their eyes lingering on them longer than they realize.

“Fuck,” Patrick's voice cuts through the air, his reaction betraying his inability to tear his gaze away from the girls.

Art gives his friend a firm nudge, a silent urging for him to keep his focus and behave, all while being just as mesmerized himself, his focus never faltering.

"Hey, I mean, Tashi Duncan's a pillar of the community." Patrick attempts to redeem himself; however, the moment of sincerity is quickly undercut by his next statement, which is delivered with a big, smug grin on his face. "I'd let her fuck me with a racket."

Of course, it's nothing Art hasn't heard before—prompting him to chuckle in response, his eyes rolling in a playful gesture. "C'mon, Patrick," he replies, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Patrick continues to act smug, his playful demeanor on full display as he swats Art's arm with his hand in a teasing gesture. "Eh, don't pretend like you haven't been drooling over her friend," he remarks, a knowing look in his eyes. He leans in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone as he adds, "You never told me you have a thing for redheads."

A bashful smile forms on Art’s face. "Shut up," he replies, his voice tinged with a mixture of embarrassment and amusement.

"I mean, don’t get me wrong—I’m happy with either one of them," Patrick continues with a mischievous grin, his playful nature infectious.

They shift their focus back to the girls, their attention drawn like magnets.

“So, which one d’you think is gonna win the finals?” Art asks, his head tilting slightly as he asks the question.

Patrick chimes in, his words undecided. "I think she has good chances against Tashi," he explains. "Her scoring against Mueler was fucking crazy."

“Damn straight.” Art responds with a small huff. “But it’s Tashi Duncan,” he adds after a brief pause.

Patrick lets out a sigh, his eyes fixated on the dance floor. "I guess we’ll just have to wait and see," he replies, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Dancing girls

♬ Its gettin hot in here (so hot)

So take off all your clothes

I am gettin’ so hot, I wanna take my clothes off … ♬

Hair swaying to the beat, Tashi moves in sync behind her, their bodies flowing together effortlessly. As she leans into Tashi, their hips move in harmony, a choreography seemingly perfected in a matter of seconds. There's an obvious chemistry between them—-they both know what they’re doing—and they’re doing it well .

“How long d’you reckon they’re gonna stand there for?” She whispers to Tashi, her voice laced with amusement as she discreetly glances towards the boys who have been ogling at them.

Tashi giggles mockingly, her eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief as she speaks. "What a bunch of pussies."

She laughs in response to Tashi's remark, finding her bold demeanor both amusing and refreshing. Tashi grabs her by the hand, her grip firm yet gentle, as she leads her away from the dance floor.

"C'mon," she urges, her voice filled with a sense of excitement.

She follows Tashi, curiosity getting the better of her as she tucks a loose curl behind her ear. "Where are we going?" she asks, her voice tinged with a mixture of wonder and anticipation.

Desperate boys

As the girls leave the dance floor, Patrick gives Art a nudge, bringing him back to the present moment.

“Where are they going?” Art asks, his curiosity piqued.

Patrick responds with a sarcastic remark, his eyes never leaving the girls. "How would I know, dumbass?"

Art scoffs in frustration, his thoughts racing as he tries to reason with his friend. "Well, we’re not gonna follow them around and seem desperate—”

"Yes, we are," Patrick asserts, his determination unshakable.

Art protests, voicing his hesitation about approaching them. "And say what?" he exclaims.

Yet, despite his reservations, he finds himself following behind Patrick. Together, they make their way towards the girls, their footsteps filled with a mix of nerves and anticipation.

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paigebueckersloverr · 13 hours

Text

Three's A Crowd

This is a multiple part story. This chapter does not have smut. But the next one does, so stay tuned and feel free to critique. I am always open to suggestions and overall thoughts. Thank you.

Stream of the Day: Novacane 🤍

Contents: Paige And The Reader Attend Paige's After-Game Homecoming Party. Where Reader Finally Meets The Infamous Laliah A Former Flame And Now Friend Of Paige's. Which puts both the reader and paige on edge as laliah makes no mistake in letting paige know she still thinks of her.

THINGS TO KNOW: The Reader Is Black As I Am A Black Girl.

Although, Paige Takes On More Of A Switch Role? Sorry, Yall She's Not Getting Dicked Down...For Now.....

Warnings: Kissing, Fingering, Swearing, Vibrating Strap, Breeding, Degration, Praise, Groping, Possesive Reader, Suggestive Language, Possesive Paige, Jealous Reader, Jealous Paige,* I can't think of anything else right now. * COMING SOON!!!

Word Count - 1.6k MEN And MINORS DNI

☆ Salem's Thoughts ☆

This Story is purely fictional I have no personal relation to anyone mentiond. And I have no malicious or weird intent when writing. These fanfictions are purely for enjoyment and obsessed girls like me.

☆ Salem's Final Thoughts ☆

Please be mindful I'm a little rusty at writing as I haven't Written serious fanfiction. Since my wattpad days, I'm Also dyslexic so read at your own risk.

Paige’s after-game homecoming party was in full swing, the living room pulsating with laughter and music, but all the sound seemed to fade as I laid eyes on Laliah. She was standing by the kitchen counter, her dark curls tumbling over her shoulders as she leaned in close to Paige, their shared history palpable in the way they moved. As I walked closer, I could see the flicker of recognition in Paige’s eyes, a mix of nostalgia and unease. Laliah's smile was warm yet carried an edge, her gaze lingering on Paige longer than necessary, making it unmistakably clear that old flames still flickered in her heart.

Earlier That Day....

I sighed as I finally turned off the alarm set for 8:15 AM, groaning softly as I pushed myself out of bed. The morning light filtered through the curtains of our hotel room in Minnesota, where Paige was born and bred, her dream of becoming a UConn Husky now a reality. Her family had moved away a year and some change after she left for Storrs, but Minnesota still held a special place in her heart. I moved quietly around the room, gathering Paige’s bags for practice and the upcoming game.

The city was buzzing with excitement, the air thick with anticipation for the game. Paige and Laliah, once formidable teammates at Hopkins, were now playing on different teams, and their reunion on the court was the talk of the town. This trip was a homecoming of sorts, and the shared history between Paige and Laliah added an extra layer of intrigue to the event. Little did they know paige and laliah shared more than a court together.

Later that day, after the game, the real test would come at the after-game party, where I knew I’d finally meet the infamous Laliah, a former flame and now friend of Paige’s. The thought of Laliah’s presence set me on edge, knowing she still harbored feelings for Paige. With a deep breath, I pushed the thoughts aside, focusing on getting everything ready for Paige’s big day.

Paige stirred in bed, her eyes fluttering open as she sensed my movement. She stretched and then sat up, her expression a mix of excitement and anxiety. "I'm nervous about the game," she admitted softly, running a hand through her hair. "It’s been a while since I’ve played in front of a hometown crowd, and with Laliah on the other team..."

I walked over to her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder and pressing a light kiss to her forehead. "You’ve got this, my love. You’ve trained so hard, and everyone here knows what an amazing player you are." I smiled, trying to infuse my voice with confidence. "Plus, it’s just another game. You’ve faced tougher challenges."

She smiled back, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Thanks. I just...I want to make everyone proud."

"You will," I assured her, then hesitated before continuing. "And about meeting your former teammates tonight...I’m a little nervous too. Especially about Laliah."

Paige's smile faded slightly, and she nodded. "I know. It’s complicated, but you’re the one I’m with now. She’s just a friend."

"I trust you, my love," I replied, squeezing her shoulder gently and running my fingers through her hair. "But it’s still a bit intimidating, you know? Meeting people who’ve known you for so long and finally seeing Laliah after everything..."

"We’ll get through it together," Paige said, her voice steadier now. She leaned in, giving me a soft kiss. "Just focus on the game for now. We’ll deal with the rest later."

After reassuring Paige, we finished getting ready and headed to the arena. The drive was filled with quiet moments of hand-holding and exchanged glances, a mix of excitement and underlying nerves. As we pulled up, the bustling energy of the city was evident, fans already gathering in anticipation of the game.

Inside the locker room, the atmosphere was electric, teammates greeting Paige with enthusiasm. I found a spot in the stands, the sea of familiar faces reminding me of just how significant this game was. The crowd erupted in cheers as the teams took to the court, and I spotted Laliah warming up on the other side, her presence a stark reminder of the evening to come.

As I scanned the crowd from my seat in the stands, my eyes eventually landed on Laliah. She stood out effortlessly, her presence commanding attention without even trying. Her dark curls framed her face in a cascade of effortless elegance, and her smile, though warm, held a hint of mystery. Dressed in her vibrant mustard yellow and worn leather red uniform , she exuded confidence and grace.

Beside me, Paige's family chatted excitedly, her mom waving enthusiastically at every point Paige scored. Her dad and stepmother watched intently, their pride evident in every cheer and applause. Paige's two little brothers were bouncing in their seats, their energy contagious, while her little sister sat quietly, eyes fixed on the game with a thoughtful expression.

The game was intense, both teams playing with unmatched vigor. Paige moved with a grace and determination that made my heart swell with pride. Each basket, each defensive move, showcased her dedication and skill. But it was impossible to ignore Laliah's equally impressive performance, the chemistry between them on full display even as opponents.

Amidst the excitement, I couldn't help but steal glances at Laliah, her interactions with the crowd and the game itself a fascinating study. Despite the history between her and Paige, there was an air of familiarity and respect in the way she engaged with everyone around her.

Paige's family, oblivious to the significance of Laliah's presence, continued to cheer and celebrate each play with infectious enthusiasm. As the final buzzer sounded and uconn emerged victorious, the crowd erupted in cheers, and I quickly rushed down to meet her. She wrapped me in a tight hug, her face glowing with the thrill of victory.

"We did it," she whispered, her voice breathless.

"You were amazing, my love," I said, kissing her cheek. "Absolutely amazing." She said as she spun us around and cheered. In the locker room, amidst the jubilant cheers and high-fives, Paige and i shared a quiet moment of celebration, her arms wrapped tightly around me as we basked in the euphoria of victory.

After the locker room celebrations, Paige and I retreated to our hotel room to get ready for the party. As Paige changed into her usual attire—a black button-down shirt paired with loose trousers—I opted for a more toned-down look, slipping into a sleek yet understated dress that accentuated my curves in all the right places.

As I smoothed down the fabric of my dress, Paige sauntered over, a playful smirk playing on her lips. "You know, I think I prefer you in less clothing," she teased, wrapping her arms around my waist from behind.

I chuckled, leaning back into her embrace. "Oh really? And here I thought you were all about the mystery."

She nuzzled into the crook of my neck, planting soft kisses along my collarbone. "I like a little mystery, but I also like knowing what's underneath," she murmured, her voice low and suggestive.

A shiver ran down my spine at her words, the familiar heat of desire igniting between us. "Well, lucky for you, you've already unwrapped this package," I replied, turning to face her with a playful grin.

Paige chuckled, her eyes darkening with desire as she pulled me closer. "And what a delightful surprise it was," she murmured, capturing my lips in a searing kiss.

As we finally made our way to the party, the playful banter between Paige and me took on a tense edge, each teasing remark and stolen glance fueling the simmering jealousy between us. The air crackled with unspoken tension, our insecurities festering beneath the surface like a wound that refused to heal.

As we mingled amidst the crowd, Paige's gaze lingered on Laliah for a moment too long, and a surge of Jealousy with a hint of anger ignited within me. "Can we talk?" I hissed through gritted teeth, pulling her aside with a firm grip on her arm.

Paige's eyes flashed with frustration, her own insecurities about the night finally bubbling to the surface. "What now?" she snapped, her tone sharp and defensive.

"It's about her, isn't it?" I accused, my voice trembling with anger and hurt. "You can't deny that there's something between you and Laliah."

Paige's jaw tensed, her expression defensive. "She's just a friend, damn it!" she spat, her voice laced with frustration. "Why can't you trust me?"

But trust was a fragile thing, easily shattered by the lingering stares and whispered conversations that passed between them. "Because it feels like I'm competing with her for your attention!" I shot back, my voice rising in desperation.

As our argument escalated, the tension between us reached a boiling point, our words a painful reminder of the growing rift between us. And amidst the chaos, Laliah approached, her presence casting a shadow over our already strained relationship.

We soon put the argument to rest, realizing that no one would come out happier than when we entered. In Paige's attempt to reassure me, she gently guided me over to Laliah, attempting to make introductions. Despite the lingering tension, Paige's gesture was a small but significant step towards easing the palpable unease that hung in the air. As we approached Laliah, I felt a surge of apprehension coursing through me, unsure of how the encounter would unfold. Nevertheless, I squared my shoulders and forced a polite smile, ready to face whatever lay ahead.

"Laliah, this is..." Paige began, her voice trailing off as she glanced uncertainly at me, her hand still clenched in mine.

"Y/N, her girlfriend and secretary on occasion. I interrupted, my tone cool and clipped. As I smiled softly and reached out for a handshake, which she returned steadfastly, "I've heard a lot about you."

Laliah's lips curled into a knowing smirk, her gaze flickering between Paige and me with a hint of amusement. "Likewise," she replied, her voice smooth as silk. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you both."

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #sapphic yearning #paige bueckers x black!reader #wlw smut #gxg smut #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #uconn huskies #nika muhl #kk arnold #Spotify #black fem reader #women #salemswriting

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kurakisses · 2 days

Text

⟡ ⠀between us⠀⠀⊹⠀⠀ guns n' roses & you

gn reader. poly relationship later on, reader is just messing around with them here, might be not fully canon-compliant. argenthill is established.

‌“remind me why i accompanied you all the way here”.

“to make idrila's grace known and help anyone in need.”

you watched from a distance as the cyborg gave a faint grimace of displeasure as he detailed his surroundings.

you knew perfectly well that the knights of beauty were destined to wander the cosmos in solitude

and that argenti had probably never asked boothill to go with him.

so the cowboy was here on his own free will and at his own whim.

you laughed as your gazes met.

soon you would be behind the galaxy ranger and the knight of beauty

you put your arms over their shoulders and hugged them, as if they were old friends

perhaps you considered them as such, given how long you had been following them.

you had played the highest notes in the intricate score written by aha, but your greed enveloped your laughter like poison ivy and it begged for more.

now you would take the role of the cat during this hunt, and play with your prey ruthlessly. you would be fine; the icicles rising from your fingertips would not let you get hurt.

“oh, knight. this world has just survived a tragedy and they are vulnerable to any word they hear; don't you think that's taking advantage of people's innocence?”

boothill's eyes bore into you like daggers.

on your lower back you felt some pressure, and assumed it would be the tip of the cowboy's gun.

that action alone caused a smile to spread across your face, amused.

apparently, the cyborg didn't like his boyfriend being messed with.

how cute

“my duty is to defend the honor of beauty, i don't intend to force others if they are unable to recognize it.”

you smiled as you held back your laughter

defend the honor of beauty?

hadn't Idrila already fallen?

you thought that the knights of beauty were like headless ants, walking around aimlessly.

“and you, beautiful masked fool? why do our paths intertwine today?

he took your hand, placing his lips on it, and it seemed to you that he almost kissed it.

it was an action that left you speechless for seconds.

“i came here to have fun”

and to hang out with them

but you wouldn't say that

“our definitions of fun seem to be different”

boothill didn't look like he was entirely comfortable with your company.

and he probably would have pulled the trigger if it hadn't been for the fact that they were in a bustling plaza

and because argenti had asked him not to resort to violence as much as possible.

you had heard that the anonymous had embraced this cold planet with a mellifluous warmth, and you were curious to witness the quiet waltz that the inhabitants of belobog now danced.

because to you, the monotonous melodies, the dramaless chants and soft intonations were meaningless. you wanted a world immersed in laughter, bursting with loud ups and downs and moving symphonies.

and what better world to build your own orchestra in than one that has already been kissed by chaos?

you laughed at the thought, earning a distrustful glance from the cyborg.

your interactions, with him at least, were bittersweet

you always looked so ethereal, enigmatic and singular— tracing icy paths before disappearing in a frozen blizzard

you laid a trap for them covered in unintelligible decorations, in fabricated snowflakes

though for you it was more like showing them your personality.

to make friends you have to grow closer, right?

you know them well enough, so the only fair thing is for them to get to know you better

beyond your facade as an icy wanderer.

for argenti: you still had an indescribable beauty— despite being a fool, you looked like an iridescent crystal butterfly, radiating a unique light.

worthy of being bounded by terms such as “beautiful, precious, one of a kind”.

and perhaps that's why boothill seemed to want you far away

because throughout the entire way, the knight of beauty kept on complimenting you

and you knew it was his nature

but you couldn't resist laughing with your hand covering your mouth every time the cowboy's gears screeched with rage.

it reminded you of when you checked into the hotel during the morning

you didn't have any money with you, and argenti offered to pay for your room

“why the fudge are ya offerin' to pay for this child of a nice lady's room?”

you laughed out loud at the censorship, and he was about to point his gun at you one more time.

in the end boothill paid for the rooms for both of you— he would share his with argenti

he showed you his middle finger before he went to sleep with his boyfriend

in response you froze it

he looked at you terrified, with his mouth wide open and teeth showing

that night you laughed so hard that tears formed in your eyes and you had to clutch your stomach between both hands.

part one

#hsr #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #argenti x reader #boothill x reader #argenthill x reader #boothill #argenti #honkai star rail x reader #hsr boothill #hsr argenti #sister's doctrine

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amuyyi · 3 days

Text

y/n + her plants .

synopsis; just 3 little drabbles of y/n being the only extrovert and obsessed with plants.

trope; le sserafim x 6th member!reader, platonic , just silly poorly written stuff

wc; 2.0k

cw; none

a/n; im ngl this is just a self indulgent self insert of the author. i love female friendships! also i was half asleep writing this, but i really like the 2nd clip idk it makes me giggle a little :3 i had planned to write more, but i got tired soooo... also did not spellcheck at the end zzz please read my other works if u actually want decently written stuff

Clip 1:

It was your turn to turn in a vlog for the week, and you decided to utilize this time to do a room tour. You grin into the camera as you make your way to you and Yunjin’s shared bedroom, opening the door and showing the interior to the camera. It was a spacious room, with posters and photographs plastered all along the walls alongside other decor such as string lights, unique shaped mirrors, and endless figurines and trinkets lined on the shelves. One of the most prominent features of the room though was the amount of pure green all throughout. There were plants quite literally everywhere. On the windowsill, hanging off the ceiling, held up on the wall, on the floor, the tables, the shelves. It felt like just about any free space was touched by mother nature herself.

You grin sheepishly as you explain, “Not many people know this– well I guess now many people will know this, but I am a super big plant person!”

The camera slowly pans over all of the plants as well as some of Yunjin’s belongings, including her guitar, glasses, and some smiski’s you two co-parent. “Thankfully Yunjin doesn’t mind me hogging up some space for my babies, and I pay her back in smiski figurines!!” Grabbing hold of a little green man on the table that was struggling to put on a sweater, you shove its face into the camera as you giggle, “I think this one's my favorite, me and Yunjin are still trying to come up with a name for him.”

You look around, trying to figure out which plant to showcase first before you catch sight of one particular plant you enjoy. “Oh! I want to show you guys my favorite pot…” The camera pans to a comically large and rather beat up leather boot, which humbly held home to a mini monstera within its space.

“It was a random shoe I found near a river during filming one time. Viney here seems to enjoy it,” You grin, accidentally letting it slip that you name every single one of your plants as well as touch random garbage you find outside before you showcase another “pot,” being a mug that had the words “Live Laugh Love” plastered boldly on the side as you snicker, “this one just makes me laugh. Jen hates it, but I don’t think she can recognize the beauty in irony.”

You let out a sigh as you make your way towards your bed, plopping down onto it as you speak. “Y’know, I personally believe I’m a great candidate to collaborate on a show with Chuu, Tsuki, and Yuqi sunbaenim,” the ramble starts, completely derailing from the original topic of plants as you speak. Your tone is lighthearted and playful, but you’re being completely serious as you continue, “I want to do a bunch of random jobs and harass random people on the street!! I’m perfectly capable of doing that! I’d do that even if I wasn’t getting paid!”

You start to laugh, realizing how ridiculous you started to sound, but you didn’t care, you pressed the topic on. “If I weren't an idol I’d make a great farmer! Why haven’t I gotten invited to be a farmer with Chuu sunbaenim??” An endless string of various other jobs as well as explanations behind why you would qualify for every one of them begins to spew out of your mouth. You were always a major talker, and quite literally had no filter nor shame when it came to what you had to say. More often than not, you were leading conversations at social events if Chaewon hadn’t already beat you to it– and having alone time with your own thoughts and a camera to record it all was a recipe for disaster.

At the end of your rant, you find yourself slightly winded before making direct eye contact with the camera, pointing your finger directly into it as you announce, “If any TV company is out there watching this right now, this is my application to be a guest on one of your shows! Any job will do, I’ll do it! But just know I’ll leave you farmers in the dust if you put me out in the fields. Watch your back.”

As a last “threat” to broadcasters all around the world, you threateningly do a “I’m watching you” gesture with your hand before placing your hand over the camera, ending the vlog.

Clip 2:

Eunchae spins around the dorm building, giving the viewers on the livestream a living room tour as she looks around, coming up with random things to showcase on the spot. So far, she’s shown off the inside of the fridge, their oven, and underneath the couch. The young girl’s eyebrows furrow as she contemplates what to show fearnots next, her eyes landing on your precious arrangement of houseplants that you lovingly arranged in front of the balcony door. Eunchae clears her throat dramatically as she turns the camera towards your plants, squatting down next to them as she makes sure the audience can see both her and them within the frame.

“As you guys can see here, we have y/n’s plants… She's COVERED the apartment full of them, Chaewon unnie has to scold her every time she brings one home.” She giggles into the camera before shaking her head, “I’m convinced she loves those things more than us…”

Faint rustling could be heard within the background, and Eunchae turns her head, opening her mouth as if to call out to whoever was home, but she pauses.An imaginary light bulb goes off in her head as Eunchae gasps, looking straight into the camera as she grins mischievously. “I have an idea… Watch this!” She scrambles onto the floor, laying flat on her stomach on top of the floor tile as she props her phone up against the wall hidden behind a stool. The camera perfectly showcases the plants, the living room, and the curtains covering the screen door.

[ynniez] – oh no… [huhjin001] – this is going to be good [2ningz] - 🥸🥸🥸

The giggles can't seem to stop as Eunchae hops onto her feet and immediately dashes behind the curtains, pressing her finger up to her lips towards the camera in a “shh…!” motion before she disappears.

“Eunchae?” your voice rings out as you return to your living quarters, grocery bags in hand as the camera perfectly captures your entrance. You don’t think much of the silence that follows as you place the bags down, making your way over to your plants with a grin.

“Hello my lovelies~” You say to your plants, squatting down to examine them individually before grabbing hold of the watering can nearby. As you lift up the can, Eunchae suddenly bursts through the curtains, exclaiming “BOO!” as loud as possible, resulting in you screaming at a decibel twice as high.

Unfortunately for the maknae, she had failed to foresee the possibility of you watering your plants at this exact moment– resulting in you blindly chucking 90% of the water inside the can towards the culprit in a panic. Eunchae stands there frozen, oversized sweatshirt and hair absolutely soaked with her mouth agape as she stares at you in complete shock.

“What THE FU– EUNCHAE??” You yell out, watching the younger girl simply freeze in front of you like a wet cat. You switch to English for just one moment, simply saying, “Girl…” as you clutch your hand over your heart, trying to steady the rapid beating.

Eunchae’s shocked expression shifts into one of glee as her mouth still remains open, now smiling as her body rotates to where the phone hid, silently pointing in the general direction of the camera as she tries not to burst out into laughter on the spot.

You stare at her in complete confusion before following her finger, eyes finally landing on the livestream as your eyes widen, suddenly feeling very exposed in her own home. “No way you just got all of that on camera…”

Eunchae finally allows the laughter to flow, as she suddenly spreads her arms out, inching her way towards you. “You did this to me, unnie!!!” She roars, making attempts to trap you in a hug as you scream, running offscreen as the live abruptly ends.

Clip 3:

You’re seen with your face comically close to the camera, a habit that soon became a signature of your livestreams as you watch the viewers and comments roll in. You glaze over them before flipping the camera around, showing Sakura within the kitchen, wearing a pink apron and plastic gloves as she cuts up some vegetables. “Hi everyone!! Today, Kkura unnie and I are making omelets for the girls with microgreens I’ve grown MYSELF in OUR apartment!!” You loudly exclaim, shoving the camera close to the cutting board as Sakura rolls her eyes, chuckling at the sight as you eventually point the camera elsewhere.

“You did a very good job growing these y/n-nnie. They look great.” The comment from the older girl made you shy, and you flip the camera back to your face as you place a hand on your cheek, “hehe, thank you Kkura-unnie~” you coo, shifting your gaze back to the viewers before sighing.

“I grew all kinds of stuff in here, like basil, arugula, cilantro, kale…” You trail off, counting the number of edible plants you’ve grown on your finger before continuing, “but I could make so much more if I had a full blown garden!!” You whine, and Sakura could be seen in the background rolling her eyes, playfully commenting, “not this again…”

You dramatically lean on Sakura’s back with your own despite her already being hunched over while chopping as you sigh even louder this time, “I’m serious unnie!! The stuff I could grow for you guys.. You would have a whole salad in one place!!”

Leaving the older member to her task, you place the camera down before grabbing some eggs and cracking them into a bowl, impressively doing so with only one hand each as the comments complimented your skill.

[makna33] – master chef y/n?? [nay00n1] – girl what cant u do…

A laugh escapes your lips as you beat the eggs, “guys, its not that impressive. Besides, I don’t cook nearly as often or as well as Kkura-unnie.” The compliment garners a small smile from the other girl seen in the corner of the screen as you continue on, “anyways, if I had my own garden in the building, I would graft the best tomatoes ever… I’d be real life Frankenstien creating the perfect tomato!” You start, knowing that most likely nobody would actually care for your facts, but you shared anyways, this was YOUR live after all.

“Oh! We’re also using my basil today in one of the omelets. Guys, if you’re ever growing your own basil at home, make sure to pinch off the flowers! It makes it tastier!!” You point the chopsticks you used to whisk the egg at your phone camera, and some of the yolk is thrown onto the screen as your eyes widen, looking back at Sakura to make sure she didn't see what you just did.

You quickly wipe off the gunk before returning to your kitchen duties as if nothing happened, “These eggs are gonna be so good… Though, I did have a pretty bad mealybug problem with the greens at some point… Do you guys know what those are? They’re like these little white dusty bugs that suck the sap out of your plants if you don’t do anything about them. I had SO MANY. But I refused to give up on em and now they're critter free!”

“Yah! Y/n! Don’t talk about the bugs in your plants!! The girls won’t want to eat it then!” Sakura scolds, playfully kicking your side with her leg as she focuses on frying the eggs.

You giggle as you look into the camera, “oops– don’t tell them that there used to be bugs in their food.”

“WHAT?!”

The sound of Kazuha and Chaewon’s shrill voice rings out in the live, and you immediately slam your phone down, giving the viewers a black screen before the live ends.

#kpop x fem reader #kpop fanfic #gg fanfic #kpop #kpop x female reader #le sserafim x reader #kpop x reader #lesserafim x reader #le sserafim imagines #lesserafim imagines #sakura x reader #chaewon x reader #yunjin x reader #nakamura kazhuha x reader #eunchae x reader #le sserafim scenarios #miyawaki sakura x reader

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corrodedbisexual · 2 days

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The original plushie

Steddie | G | ~4.1k | AO3 link

This fanart of Eddie sleeping with a bunch of stuffed toys by @baleful-blurbs infected my brain and refused to leave until this ridiculous fluffy thing got written 😭 Please make sure to reblog those wonderful sketches to support the artist who inspired the plushie silliness♥️

Featuring: Tooth-Rotting Fluff, seriously beware of cavities, Light Angst, Plushies, Childhood Memories, POV Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Good Parent Wayne Munson, Requited Love, Cuddling, Getting Together, Boys In Love

The mortifying ordeal of Eddie's crush discovering his secret plushie cuddle nest turns out to be not so mortifying after all. Steve even starts borrowing said plushies to take back home with him; some time later, Eddie finds out why.

Snippet under the cut

“Who’s this?” Steve asks, grinning as he pokes at the teddy’s ridiculous smiley face.

“Oh. That’s… that’s Mr. Boogers.” Eddie huffs and rolls his eyes. “Please don’t ask.”

Still grinning, Steve turns to him. “Well, now you know I gotta.”

Eddie groans, rubbing a hand across his flustered face, and figures he might as well tell the story now that he’s dug his own grave. “He was, uh… kinda defective from the start, there were some stitches loose around his nose and there was stuffing coming out of it, like… well…”

Steve giggles. “Boogers. Gotcha.”

“Yeah. Wayne grumbled about it and wanted to ask for a different one, but I was already in love with this one and clung to him and refused to trade. Cos like, you know how plushies of the same type are supposed to be identical but they’re really not ? And one of them has that perfect face and the others just seem off?”

Eddie blushes, thinking now would be the moment he finally gets ridiculed for being twenty years old and having strong opinions on plushie faces of all things, but Steve just smiles and nods.

“Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. I once spilled some gouache on a Mickey Mouse I owned and instead of washing him, mom just bought me a new one of the same series.” Steve sighs. “It was obvious 'cos his eyes were a little closer together and his smile wasn’t crooked to the left. I knew he wasn’t the same Mickey.”

Again, Eddie’s heart aches for little Steve, like pretty much any time the boy reveals stories from his childhood in a tone too lighthearted for the words spoken, in Eddie’s opinion. Rich people really don’t value anything, huh. (With Steve being the obvious exception.)

“Yeah, see? You get it!” Eddie exclaims, pointing at Steve and putting more excitement into the words than he feels. Mostly, he just feels relieved and pleasantly surprised at how unexpectedly he and Steve managed to bond over their shared fondness for their childhood toys. “So anyway, Wayne relented and we took this funny guy home, my uncle patched him up, but the nickname stuck. Mr. Boogers. Boogie for short.”

Steve laughs again, but there’s nothing malicious about it as he looks back to the teddy in his lap and flicks his ear.

“Nice to meet you, Boogie,” he says with an affectionate smile that makes Eddie want to burrow his face into the mattress and giggle like an idiot.

And maybe scream a little, because what the fuck. It should be illegal for your crush to talk cute to your goddamn childhood plushies.

Whole fic on AO3

#steddie #steddie fic #misha-bawlins fanfic #fanfic #fluff #steddie fluff #seriously god bless fandom artists being an endless source of inspiration

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trashogram · 1 day

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i’m gonna hop on the stolas hate train with you for a second. Do you know what i feel like he doesn’t get enough lashings for? His inability to see things from Blitzo’s point of view.

I’m sorry but despite being horrendously bad he is simultaneously one of most self absorbed characters ever. If he really loved Blitz to an up to par standard he’d be able to understand the HUGE power imbalance between them regardless of their feelings or time spent together. (might be a spoiler but i feel like you’ve seen it by now) but Blitz out burst to Stolas was super justified , i wouldn’t have done it personally, but i see where he’s coming from.

That moment itself was a rare vulnerable!blitz moment that stolas could’ve used to mend their relationship but instead he made it about Him AGAIN I CANT DO THIS😭😭😭 THEY SUCKKKK GOOD LORDD

I’m here to conduct this hate train, you’re more than welcome to come aboard.

Stolas has the characteristics of a Covert Narcissist (obviously he’s fictional, I can’t diagnose a fictional character or real person, but let’s tally it up shall we?):

Lack of Empathy — You hit that one

Sense of Entitlement — he thinks he’s entitled to Blitzø’s time and body, as well as Octavia’s unending patience and understanding when he fucks up and fucks around on her and their family)

Taking advantage of others for personal gain — the whole deal with the fuckdamn Grimoire

Hyper-focusing on fantasies of grandeur — Stolas is King Delusion thinking his obsession with Blitzø is at all equivalent to love, or even liking someone. He also deludes himself into thinking he knows his own child but he ignores her wants when she literally runs away from him on two separate occasions bc he’s not fucking listening to her.

Exhibit passive-aggressive behavior, arrogance, or subtle superiority — Ppl don’t clock this as much as they should but I’ve noticed and gagged at his belittling “pet names” for Blitzø (impish little plaything, itty bitty imp) and how when Moxxie and Millie try to speak to him, Stolas either treats them with disdain/like peasants or doesn’t even look at them when they speak! Not even bringing up how he uses his own imp staff as stress-relieving toys.

Highly sensitive to criticism — Can’t take being called out, has to cry and run away from the truth that Blitzø (and Stella and Octavia) are spitting

Victim Mentality — it’s everyone else in this damn bird’s life that’s to blame instead of himself. “I think so highly of you, I didn’t realize you thought so low of me.”

Fuck. You. Stolas.

I’m sorry this is a wild rant but to be fair it is the Stolas Hate Train (SHT, we should implement an I in there). Obviously I don’t hate his fans. Like what you like. Please. However, I may have some concerns over how young HB fans can get and how they don’t truly see how terribly this character is written because they accept the framing of Stolas as the poor victim in this situation at face value and don’t see it for what it really is, but I’m not their parents. And hopefully the younger audience will grow up and also think “ew”. At the very least.

I would like to know if the HB writers, and her majesty Vivienne Medrano, realize that they’re framing the Abuser in this situation as the victim but have dug this hole so deep that they just have to keep digging bc there’s no going back or if they genuinely think their targeted audience of adults don’t see through this or haven’t had to deal with abusive relationships themselves.

#helluva boss critical #anti stolas #anti Stolitz #I’m a full fucking anti for this ship now fucking hell #I’m sorry I will try to keep my complaints under wraps for the most part #but I was genuinely triggered #You don’t have to call me dumb and silly for it I already know

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will80sbyers · 22 hours

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The thought that they are perfectly written to help each other makes me feral for them because they are complementary without having to try to be

Mike has that type of strong and morally golden character that believes in fighting back for justice and he genuinely thinks that all his friends being some kind of "different" only makes them special and that's something positive that they should be proud of and just by being himself- when he's not trying to be cooler for someone else - he helps Will to feel like he shouldn't hide himself like all the other people around him made him feel he should

Will looks at Mike and takes example from him and he takes courage and the love he feels for him is so beautiful that it feels wrong to think it would be wrong to love him

Will with Mike usually starts to feel like he can be brave and honest about his feelings, and he's not a mistake only because he's born different from what society considers proper.

and then we have Mike that doesn't feel special at all, that doesn't see himself reflected in the mirror as a hero, he doesn't see himself represented as one irl because for him what he does, like, be willing to give his life for his friends and challenge anyone that wants to hurt them just because he wants to protect them doesn't feel like something special or a burden

for Mike that is just in his nature

and so he doesn't understand how that makes him a hero inherently, he runs towards the danger any time his friends and family need him even against all odds... he fights back and he's willing to take any type of consequences for that, he's brave and loyal and loves with all his heart and still he doesn't see himself as a hero

during the years Mike has started feeling like he's not special enough for people to really want to stay in his life long term and so he has to try to be cooler than he is and change what he's like on the surface to be more like what society regards as one of "the cool kids"

and then here comes Will that gets MAD when Mike is not himself, that pictures him as a brave hero and wants Mike exactly as he is, he looks at Mike and sees the best person one could be and takes a mirror and places it right in front of him and says you are perfect exactly as you are too, I love you for who you are and I want you to always know that, I need you to be yourself because you being yourself is what gives me hope that I am not a mistake

you being yourself is what makes us all better because we are inspired by your character and you make us all want to fight injustice with you and follow you anywhere

you are special. and you are actually the one that's most special between all of us because of what you have in your heart and we all need you and most importantly we WANT you and we want to be with you

I want to be with you and stay with you for the rest of my life - you make me want to stay on this earth even against all of the pain and fear, and you make me feel brave and I need you to know how much you are loved and appreciated as you are right now without having to change anything about yourself

Mike & Will are complementary and they need and want each other at the same time and they will find happiness together🩷

#byler #will byers #mike wheeler #they are just so perfect together #crazy together #they help the other face life's challenges more easily and that's what love is

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fiber-optic-alligator · 2 days

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(Not a request dw) (I had to get this idea out of my head real quick.)

The idea of Drift swallowing his Little One to protect them from another mech trying to take them for themselves. The pair of them had been sitting, and idly chatting (Even if it was mostly a one-sided conversation.) when another mech had come along. Clearly interested in getting their servos on a tasty little human. It'd start with Drift growling lowly as a part of his warning to the potential human-thief that it'd be a bad idea to try his patience. Obviously he'd want to talk things out first, but a small possessive part of Drift loathes the idea of being separated from His Little One. So the "chat" is intermingled with his growling.

The next action Drift would take if the intruding mech persists. Would be to scoop his Little One up to keep them out of reach of the other mech, the growling of his engine growing more intense to dissuade the mech from taking things any further.

But if all else fails, Drift is probably just gonna make a show out of swallowing His Little One. Before growling loudly one last time out of possessive irritability, and walking away from where he'd been seated. He loathes acting like that, as it reminds him of his Deadlock days, but he wasn't about to let his Little One be stolen away by someone who wasn't going to be Nearly as careful with them as he is. It just wasn't going to happen. Speaking of which, he has some apologizing to do to His Little One after he gets back to his Habsuite, and retrieves them from his tanks. Oh dear.

Ok, but, the feeling of being swiftly (But carefully) swallowed by Drift while he's growling up a storm would be Far more jarring than the experience of being swallowed typically would be. The world around you shaking rhythmically, loudly as peristalsis drags you further down into Drift's humid depths. But even when you know Drift would never hurt you, (On purpose) being swallowed, and so thoroughly rattled by his animalistic growls fills you with dread as you sink deeper within him. You land in his stomach as he lets out a more aggressive growl. His tanks clench close around you, just as possessively as your mech is behaving externally. But when you feel him get up, and walk away his tank releases it's hold on you allowing you to breathe again.

It's different when he growls with you in his tank, than when he purrs. The sounds of his gentle purring lulls you to sleep most nights, and results in only a slight shaking sensation. But his growls rattle you to your core, and leave you feeling threatened by the typically placid mech. Drift, who loves you too much to let you leave fall into the servos of someone who can't give you the care you need. Like he can. Like he will.

HRRRRRRRGH THIS IS SO GOOD!!!!

I’m sorry I HAD to write something about this. I know this wasn’t a request but this scenario is honestly so, so good. The way you worded it was beautiful. GOD, what I wrote isn’t half as good as what you sent but I was inspired. What I wrote isn't a carbon copy of your idea, but I still really enjoyed putting this idea into story form. GOD I STILL CAN'T GET OVER IT. Drift certainly does love you too much to let you be taken by someone else. He loves you too much to let you leave. After all, you are is little one. There's no changing that.

PLEASE let me know if you like the little story I wrote. THANK YOU AGAIN FOR THE INCREDIBLE ASK! I'm gonna look back at reread at least twenty times now lmao.

WARNING! WHAT IS WRITTEN BELOW THIS CONTAIN SOFT VORE. If this is something that makes you uncomfortable, please do not read!

“Hey, are you going to have that?”

Drift looks up. The mech staring back at him is stocky and short. He has some grime splattered across his chassis and arms: oil. An engineer. A name does not stick to the face, and Drift takes a quick moment to try and recall it. Nothing.

“Excuse me?” is all his confusion will allow him to say.

“The human.” The stranger gestures to the table. “Are you gonna have it?”

Drift looks down. On the table is a datapad displaying a sparkling’s story with funny little illustrations. Observing the pictures is you. The library is a quiet place. Drift comes here frequently to either read or simply clear his mind. He enjoys bringing you along as well; ever since you found out there was a library aboard the Lost Light, you have shown a strong fascination with Cybertronian writings. He doesn’t know if you get the gist of what they mean, but you give him such excited, pleading looks when he lets you observe them, that he can’t help but let you indulge. So, he provides you with simple readings. The ones with pictures are what you seem to enjoy best. You’d sit there for hours if you could, looking at the datapad and trying to quietly sound out the Cybertronian words to yourself. It’s not something you do well, but Drift finds it so adorable. You attempting to mimic his language just proves how clever you are.

He loves to watch you do this, and he frequently jumps in to help you say certain words right. Most of the time the two of you are quietly repeating them to each other in a sort of simple lesson. It’s one of the many things the two of you do as a bonding experience. Primus, Drift loves it.

So who the hell is this random mech to barge in and interrupt by asking if he can have you?

“Um.” Drift chuckles in disbelief. “They’re not for sale. Sorry.”

“Oh, no, nonono.” The mech shakes his head and laughs too. “I don’t want to buy them from you. I want to borrow them. I’ve never had the chance to get my servos on one of these little beauties. It’s rare to find a human that doesn’t already have an owner.” He leers at you, swiping his glossa over his lips. “If you let me have a taste, I’ll pay you. However much you want, name your price.”

You, who has been silently observing this entire interaction, shrink back nervously. Drift sees the way you look at the other mech in fear, and his mood immediately darkens. Something sour builds in his spark. He slowly reaches forward and curls his digits around you. It’s an obvious display of possessive protection.

“They’re. Mine,” he growls. The sound is deep and dangerous, continuing on after he spoke his words. Though he doesn’t notice, you are clearly shaken by it. Chirping softly, you press your hand against his palm, trying to get his attention. But he only tightens his hold, never breaking eye contact with the threat before him.

“Dude, I know they’re yours.” The other mech is clearly unaffected by Drift’s hostility. “You can spare a bit of time with them, can’t you? C’mon, just let me have a taste.”

He makes a grab for you. Drift’s instincts kick in, and he snatches you away. You yelp when he presses you against his chassis. He makes a mental note to apologize to you later, but right now he needs to play the part of big bad mech. There can be no sign of weakness here. This stranger is clearly bent on stealing you from him. He won’t let that happen. You are his little one. His.

Drift rises to his pedes, his growls elevating. The other mech doesn’t show any ounce of care and growls back, armor rising to clack. “I’ve waited for so long to try one of these things,” he says. “This might be my only opportunity! Just let me have them!”

“They aren’t a thing,” Drift hisses. “They are a human. And if you can’t show them the proper respect and care they deserve, then you have no right to own this one, let alone any.”

“You think just because you're third in command to the captain that you can lecture me on how to treat a human?” The mech gets into Drift’s face and flashes his fangs. “You don’t even know me! I’m not going to hurt it! I just want a taste! Is that so hard for you to allow?”

“When it comes to a bot like you? Yes. It is.” Drift doesn’t waver. He’s taller than this mech. Stronger, too. Faster, and better at fighting. If it comes down to such actions unfolding, then so be it. He will do anything to protect his little one.

Speaking of you…you cower in his servos, trying your best to appear invisible. He looks down at you, debating on how to handle this. The other mech obviously doesn’t intend on backing off any time soon, and if things do come down to a fist fight, he obviously can’t defend you like this. His best option for keeping you safe is swallowing you.

The engineer puffs out his chassis and revs his engine. It’s a challenge.

Drift accepts it. But not in the way he is thinking.

He raises you high above his faceplate and lets you drop a little, until he has the back of your shirt pinched between his forefinger and thumb. You kick your legs and squeal, alarmed, and his spark wrenches at the sight. He wants to comfort you. He needs to comfort you. But he can’t, not while he’s making a show of this in order to prove he isn’t someone to be messed with. So despite how disgusted he is with taking advantage of your fear, despite how this makes him feel like a little piece of Deadlock is rising from the grave, he goes through with his decision and decides that if he wants to keep you protected, he needs to scare the other mech off…even if you are scared shitless too.

He lets you go. Your high-pitched scream is abruptly cut off when you land in his intake and he quickly snaps his jaws shut. Slicking you up with solvent, he tilts his helm back and swallows you, swiftly, but gently. He makes sure the other mech can see you travel down his throat. You are nothing more than a little bulge that disappears into his chassis and is quickly consumed.

The engineer stares. His mouth is open like he wants to say something, but no words come out.

Drift licks his lips and continues growling, as loudly as he can. He watches the other mech’s helm lower, optics on the floor. Intimidated. Good.

“Never come near me or my human again,” he says. “They’re mine. Do you hear me? Mine.”

The challenger offers no protest. Drift pushes past him and leaves the library, not looking back.

You have never seen this side of Drift before.

When he swallows you, he is always careful with you. He takes things slow, allowing you to move along with his pace, giving you every opportunity to tell him no, you don’t want this right now.

However, this case is entirely different. He didn’t even give you a chance to gather your bearings before he was tossing you into his mouth and gulping you down with a rushed sense of urgency. Oh, he was gentle. Of course he’s always going to be gentle with you. But after watching the way he interacted with that strange mech, who you know wanted to eat you just from the way he had been looking at you like a lion looks at a fresh piece of meat, you can understand why he’s being so quick. This is being done for your preservation.

But god, that doesn’t mean this isn’t terrifying.

Everything around you shakes as you are pushed deeper and deeper within him. His esophageal muscles are tight, the rolling sensation of being swallowed not as soothing as it should be. His growls ring in your ears and leave you feeling rattled. He sounds dangerous. He sounds like an animal.

It scares you.

When you make it to his stomach, you are practically shoved inside. There is no chance to catch your breath, no opportunity for you to nestle in and get comfortable. The walls move in to give you the tightest squeeze of your life. You are squished uncomfortably between living cables that pulse with the bright, possessive desire to never let you go. Every angle is taken up by him. All you can see is blue biolight. And all you can hear are his throaty rumbles.

There is no end to it. Even when you feel his stomach gently sway with the rest of his body as he walks away, the organ only holds you closer, gurgling possessively. You feel like you are being told that you are his. Because you are.

You should be consoled by this fact. But no such feeling comes to compete with the claustrophobic dread that fills you.

Drift is fuming when he stomps back into his habsuite. He paces back and forth, then drags his chair back and sits in it with a heavy puff of exhaust. Tapping his digits against his desk, he imagines his fist grabbing that engineer by the back of the helm and smashing his faceplate into the nearest wall. How dare he? How dare he just waltz up to him and ask to taste his little one? The nerve of some bots!

I’ll have to put in a word to Ultra Magnus, he thinks. That engineer should be dismissed. He shouldn’t even be on the Lost Light. Disgusting behavior like that should be punished. It has to-

He hears a soft whimper. His digits halt their fidgeting. He looks down at his middle and has his internal sensors scan your little form. Your heart rate is through the roof. Your breathing is erratic and unsteady. And…oh no. Oh, no, no, no. You're trembling.

He loosens his grip on you and gives you room to move. But when that doesn’t do the trick, he decides that keeping you in there while you are in this state will only distress you further. So he clenches his tank muscles again, and pushes you upward, back through his esophagus and into his mouth. He slips you into his servos with practiced ease, turning you gently so you are on your back. You are covered in his solvent, chest heaving as you look up at him. Then, to his horror, you turn away from him and curl up into a little ball. You are still shaking. His spark sinks.

He gently deposits you onto his desk and fetches one of his fluffiest blankets to wrap you in. You don’t resist him. You just sit there, giving him those big sad eyes you have whenever you are scared.

“Little one?” Drift whispers.

You chirp softly and hide your face. He whines. “No, no, don’t do that.” He hooks his index digit under your chin and tilts your head up. “Look at me, little one. Please.”

You're still so afraid. He realizes that his big act in front of the engineer really affected you. Guilt rises. There has to be a way to get through to you and show you that he’s still the gentle Drift you know.

He leans forward, cupping you close. Lowering his helm to be at your level, Drift coos out the call you always make when you want his attention. “Hello,” he murmurs in the foreign tongue. “Hello. Hello, hello.”

You perk up a little when he mimics your calls. Tentatively, you say it back. “…Hello.”

Drift beams. “Hello, little one.” He ruffles your hair, chuckling when you lean into his touch. “I’m so sorry I scared you. I…I had to show him that you are mine. I don’t want anyone trying to take you from me. They could hurt you. And if that happens…I’ll never be able to live with myself.”

You seem to understand that he’s asking for your forgiveness. Sighing, you shuffle forward and reach out, pressing your hands against his nose. You chirp; much of it is indecipherable. But then…you begin to speak. Not in your language. In Cybertronain.

“Love you,” you say to him. “Love you…love you, Drift.”

He doesn’t know when you learned it. But he knows it’s the first time you’ve said it. He is your first I love you.

He can’t contain himself. Drift purrs louder, cuddling you. “I love you too, little one. I love you so, so much.”

You like cuddles. You deserve them. Today was a rough day for both of you. But knowing you still trust him is relieving. And he promises you…he swears to you, he will never allow anyone to try and threaten you again.

#gator answers #gator writes #desperation vs domestication #drift x reader #tasty au #first contact au #transformers first contact #transformers first contact au #soft vore #safe vore #sfw vore

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chaifootsteps · 2 days

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just me or is the whole 'saying this is like fanfic is homophobia' framing kind of frustrating? like just to list out the tropes that have come up so far in HH/HB:

female character is written as an evil shrew who gets in the way of the m/m pairing

relationship that starts with rape/dubcon rewritten into true love (this one is probably more common in bad BL manga but I'm willing to bet there's some overlap)

character is the child of a mob family

portrayals of rape/sexual assault treated as titillating / used for drama

portrayals of domestic violence/abuse used mainly to get viewers to feel sorry for a character instead of making them sympathetic on their own terms

abusers/rapists being all powerful monsters solely to torture the victim as much as possible

characters are either Good or Bad and writing is heavy handed about driving this point home

writers has one character they stan and baby above all others and not only the writing but the world bends around them as they eat up more and more screentime while the actual main characters are shoved to the side

writer has one character they hate and they hate other people liking them so they derail them in the most obvious way possible

writer has one pairing they despise and go out of their way to make them seem familial to shame the fans who ship it

writer has intended pairings in mind but they just kinda happen regardless of how much work has been put in to give them real chemistry

the plotlines jump all over the place with no consideration given to the differing stakes each create or audience fatigue when too much is introduced at once/too many hanging threads are left, similar to what happens in unplanned serialized fiction. consistency and worldbuilding errors abound. conversations/events that seem like they should change the status quo kinda don't but there's so little way to tell which one is which that audiences cannot gauge the stakes and either stop being invested or just take the show as it comes since there's no point anticipating anything being done with a lot of its characters & plot points

too many characters, often some of whom don't serve much purpose but the writer is way too attached to to ever cut out (looking at you, Andrealphus & Vassago)

characters are rewritten on the fly. due to the lack of planning their arcs start and stop or get quietly dropped when the writer tires of them

pervasive attitude of misogyny - female characters are underwritten, bitches, dumb or accessories to the men. The world revolves around the (usually white) m/m pairing/s

the main premise is dropped in favor of shipping drama or character shilling

etc.

There's probably more but those are the big ones - like s1 wasn't perfect but s2 really does feel like it became fanfic of itself. I understand Viv being frustrated if it seems like a broad dismissive brush instead of specific critiques, but there's a couple of problems here:

when people give specific critiques she either misrepresents their points to frame them as bad faith (tacitly encouraging her fans to do the same), complains people keep making the same point or writes defensive threads about how people just don't get it because, for example, the show totally demonstrates Millie has qualities other than Wife and Violent

when people say something 'feels like fanfic' as far as I've seen they aren't immediately using it as shorthand for 'it has LGBT characters'. usually when they expand on their points what they're getting at is a lack of planning and a lack of experience or competency in the writer that gives the whole thing impression of being done by an amateur who's either young or still learning their craft, or both

it's the same lack of experienced hands that resulted in the opening of Hazbin being so amateurish and lacking the sense of having actual episodes until other staff writers were brought in to clean up the mess

like yeah I don't like the implication that 'fanfic=automatically bad' since I've read some good stuff myself and maybe people could be more specific; but usually this critique is coming from people who actually like fanfic, who've read a lot of it and who recognize the tropes from the worst fanfics out there in Viv's work

Viv's little "Um, actually, fanfic is good and queer and so if you use it as an insult towards my shows, you're homophobic" snit is one of the more rancid things she's said. When you lay it all out like this, it really does go to show how her stories embody all the worst, most harmful tropes bad fanfic -- and bad writing in general -- has to offer.

#Anonymous #vivziepop critical #viv stuff #actual blog post

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merbear25 · 18 hours

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One piece characters x Small female reader???😇 like them comparing hand size or something??

Hello, thank you for sending in this request! Okay, so since you didn't specify any characters, I chose 3 I had some ideas for. I hope you like what I've written for you 💜💜

CW: fluff, fem!reader, headcanons, size difference

With a small fem!reader (Corazon, Zoro, Law)

Rosinante: He was such a large man already, meaning so many were already much smaller than him. When he first met you, he couldn't deny how sweet you looked—sweet and fragile. The closer you got to each other, the more he simply wanted to hold you. Even though his embrace completely engulfed you, you couldn’t get enough of his long arms wrapping around you. Of course, he enjoyed it too—feeling as if he was shielding you from the terrors this world had to offer. Most of all, he adored taking your small hands in his and bringing them up to his lips, placing a tender kiss on their tiny fingers.

“You’re so darling, my dear.”

Zoro: Seeing as he’d taken on a protective role naturally, you were no exception to this. However, you were given a bit more attention than the others. Your small frame, your delicate features, and your tiny hands all gave off the impression of someone in need of being taken care of. Such gentle touches were accompanied with your late night talks when neither of you could sleep. He’d trace over your small fingers with his, admiring how dainty they were. Holding you closely, he reveled in how your form fit so perfectly in his arms. You knew that he’d never let anything cause you any harm; warmth blanketed you when you heard the sincerity in his voice.

“I’ll always protect you.”

Law: Despite his aloof demeanor, he cared very deeply for those closest to him. He was selfless when it came to aiding his friends, especially if they required a bit more attention. Seeing how small you were ignited the same devotion, yet he craved a bit more intimacy. Holding you close, caressing your gentle body, looking down at you: silent vows were made in such tender moments. Promises of always being there when you needed him, taking down anything or anyone who dared to pose any threat. You were perfect to him. As you sat there, enjoying the sounds of the sea, when he placed a firm kiss on your forehead.

“I promise to keep you safe.”

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yu-huuuu · 2 days

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Hey there! How about having the madara, hashirama and itachi's way of celebrating an anniversary with his wife as headcanons? Thank you!

[ 🌸 ] oh...! If I were married I would like to go to a beach to do you know what thing… that's right, I'm talking about drinking pineapple with my partner while I tell him the gossip that my grandmother told me the other day-

characters: itachi uchiha, madara uchiha, hashirama senju

genre: fluff with a touch of comedy

warnings: none, spicy parts, reader being pampered by three adult men, happy married couple

...

Itachi Uchiha

—My sweet boy.

—He sleeps a little longer than usual to enjoy the warmth of the morning by your side, even though he has a whole list of plans of what he wants to do with you. —When he feels he's had enough rest, he gets up quietly and heads to the kitchen.

—When you wake up, he brings you breakfast in bed with a smile so beautiful and bright that it makes you fall in love with him for the thousandth time.

—He gives you a shy smile if you decide to share something from your plate with him (he'll eat it, but, don't expect him not share from his own plate with you too).

—In the end, the two of you end up feeding each other while laughing like lovestruck teenagers.

—After that, he takes you to the bathroom for both of you to take a shower before starting your day.

—He is gentle as he scrubs your shoulders, back, and chest while you just sigh relaxed with his soft touches.

—Of course, he'll let you help soap up his back.

—In the end, he wraps both of you in towels before carrying you in a princess style to the bed.

—Things… happen when you get there.

—Let's just say your legs wouldn't stop trembling for a good few minutes.

—Anyway!

—You both go out to eat at a nice place.

—While eating, Itachi's free hand plays with yours under the table.

—When your stomach is satisfied along with his, you go out holding hands and walk through the park (which was surprisingly empty) before sitting on the grass under a tree. —And now it feels like a dream to Itachi. You by his side as he feels the fresh breeze. —Your head fits like a puzzle piece on Itachi's shoulder while he wraps his arm around you, resting his head on top of yours. —You stay like that for a while until Itachi tells you he has a little surprise for you. —You’re a little surprised when he takes you to a spa. —And Shisui suddenly appears, telling him that the Hokage is calling him for an emergency. —He kisses you on the forehead before telling you he'll come back for you and to relax at the spa in the meantime, giving you some money before disappearing. —You stay there, trying not to feel too disappointed but thinking it will be quick. —When you're relaxed and your hair is styled and shiny, you're surprised to see Itachi outside the place. —Waiting for you with one of his lovely smiles along with a bouquet of flowers, as if he hadn’t left you there for two hours. —"Shall we go?" he asks, giving you his hand and the bouquet to take. —On the way home, you wonder what has him so smiley until you enter the house and find out why. —He made you dinner. —Well, it looks more like a buffet with your favorite foods combined with his. —He guides you to the table and pulls out the chair for you to sit before sitting next to you. —That's when you realize it's impossible that Itachi could have done all this by himself in such a short time. —"The Hokage didn’t call you, right?" "No, but I made you dinner." —Enjoy his food, please. —He had a great time enduring Shisui’s cheesy jokes on the way home. —When you’re both satisfied, he gives you something he’s been working on for several months as a gift. —As a gift, Itachi gave you a small book in which he wrote some poems that perfectly describe the love and affection he feels for you. —Every feeling that your words, touches, and voice evoke in him is written in its pages. —It’s a very personal and special gift for him, one that he made exclusively for you and only you, and no one else. —Please! Don't cry or he might get alarmed. —Anyway!

—At night, when you enter the hallway leading to the bedroom, you’ll see a path of petals.

You let out a soft laugh when you saw the petals on the wooden floor. Your heart was pounding hard against your chest, making you feel excited.

A small blush crept up your face as you imagined what Itachi had prepared for you. "Itachi! What is all this?"

"Another gift for the most special woman in the world," he replied with his own quiet laugh while leaving several kisses on your shoulders, as far as his position behind you allowed him to reach.

The walk to the bedroom felt relatively much shorter than it had all the previous times.

You let Itachi guide you, feeling so in love while feeling his hands over yours, caressing them with his long, cold fingers as he accompanied you.

A gasp of awe escaped you when you saw the bed. There were several petals on the bed and the floor, the window curtain was open, letting the angelic moonlight into the room, making it look ethereal and so intimate.

Your heart skipped a beat when Itachi cupped your face with such tenderness. He kissed you so gently that it almost made your knees want to give out. You smiled when you felt his hands slowly and methodically undress you.

He was definitely the man of your dreams.

...

Madara Uchiha

—Many will say that Madara is already prepared to celebrate your anniversary four days in advance.

—Well, that is half true and half false.

—Don't look at me like that, the man has been preparing since the beginning of the month.

—Although…

—Don't get me started on your first anniversary (the poor guy was running around like a headless chicken since the beginning of the year. He was like that until you saw him nervous because he couldn't find a good gift for you… and there were still five months left).

—He will want to give you a special (and expensive) gift. —Although sometimes he runs out of ideas or has them but doesn't know if they are good and if you'll like them, the poor man is like: "😦, now what?"

—Sometimes he goes and asks Hashirama for suggestions (once the good man suggested for some reason that he bake a cake and bring it to you in bed as a nice surprise, he even offered to help him… it didn't go well).

—Sometimes he goes to the cemetery to talk to his brother's grave and ask for advice. He knows it's useless to ask a dead person for help, but somehow it makes him feel better and gives him more confidence with the ideas that come to his mind.

—And, in turn, it fills him with energy to continue. —Because your man may be stubborn and confident when he's on the battlefield or when he's face to face with a tailed beast, —but then you come along and weaken him, and he doesn't know what to do, aww! —Going back to before! —Girl, you hit the jackpot. —It's like it's your birthday. —He spoils you a lot, he just wants to pamper his beautiful woman (not that he doesn't do it every day, though). —He takes you to eat wherever you want and buys you whatever you want, because you know, in his words: "My wife's happiness is my happiness." —When you get back to your house, he'll ask you to stay in the room for a moment while he disappears into the bathroom. —And when he comes out with a big smile, you know he's up to something.

“What are you doing?” you asked, letting out a small breathless laugh as he held out a hand to you, which you took with amusement.

Madara smiled at the sound of your little laugh. “It’s a surprise,” he replied, looking into your eyes with love, his own body trembling with anticipation and longing at seeing the subtle playful glimmer in the rich color of your eyes.

He gently guided you towards the bathroom door while still holding your much smaller hand compared to his. Before entering, he turned to look at you, “close your eyes”

You made an ‘o’ with your mouth as you did what he had asked; to tell the truth, you were excited, very excited in fact. You heard the soft sound of the door opening and then felt the gentle warmth of the steam on your face and a smell that at first, you couldn't distinguish but had escaped when the door was opened.

A smile spread across your lips from the excitement, but you held back, not wanting to ruin the surprise your husband had prepared for you.

You quickly identified the smell, it was… lavender? A soft laugh wanted to escape you, it was your favorite and your husband’s too.

You felt his body press against yours from behind, giving you a different kind of warmth than the steam. His chest found its place pressed against your back while his strong arms wrapped around you. His chin rested perfectly on your left shoulder.

When it came to him, everything felt like a puzzle; every piece always fit in its place, your hands when you interlaced your fingers, when you both hugged or when your lips met, it felt as if the world had made you for each other.

“Open your eyes”

You did.

Your eyes opened to see several petals on the floor and on the water in the bathtub. The candles lit up the bathroom, the light was soft, giving the bathroom a special and romantic touch.

“Happy anniversary, dear,” your lover whispered before making a trail of kisses on your shoulders and back. You squeezed his arms as his hands moved over your beautiful body with the sole mission of pleasing you.

...

Hashirama Senju

—Fun guy.

—He has several gift ideas he wants to make (I feel like if Hashi-Hashi had Pinterest, he would have a board specifically for ideas to make for your anniversary).

—In fact, in modern times, I can see him making ice cream with milk and crushed cookies just because he saw it while browsing the internet looking for easy desserts to make 🥺 Hashi-Hashi solves.

—Okwy, okay, okay

—Let's get to it!

—My handsome guy will wake you up a bit early to make the most of the day (he managed to escape after signing all the papers the day before and somehow left his younger brother in charge of the Hokage Tower).

—Also, he is somewhat excited and nervous about what you will say when you see his wedding anniversary gift. I mean, he spent a few months making it with such care that he fears something might go wrong.

—He insists on making you breakfast as a reward for all the times you have kindly made and prepared food for him when he has to go to work.

—But it doesn't turn out so well, you know?

—Poor thing, my boy 😭.

—Please avoid the burnt part of the egg and the overly toasted side of the bread. He did what he could 😭✨.

—After eating, you both wash the dishes (you insist on helping him after the last time you let him wash the dishes alone, he managed to break a cup… and it didn't even fall to the floor to begin with, you are still trying to figure out how he managed to break it).

—After that, you both stayed on the porch enjoying each other's presence until lunchtime.

—He will take you to the forest for a picnic lunch in nature ✨ The guy has some ideas.

—He will lean on your shoulder while nibbling on his ham sandwich (he leaves some crumbs on you, although he removes them afterward).

—After eating, he will ask for permission to lie on your thighs, he simply loves the feeling of being with you.

—You both stay talking for a while as you gently run your hands through his hair, relieving all the accumulated stress he has from his job.

—Sometimes, the leaders of other villages drain all his energy, but he keeps going, for you and for all his people!

—After that, he takes you to another place.

—He looks nervous yet excited. When you reach a part of the forest, he is practically smiling from ear to ear.

“Close your eyes”

“Why?” you asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.

“Just do it, I promise you won't regret it”

You smiled. Although you were nervous, you trusted your husband— whatever he was planning in that head of his.

You felt his rough hands gently taking yours to start guiding you. Some giggles escaped you when you heard him nervously trying to guide you and tell you not to trip over a rock.

Although, to be honest… you didn't feel as many leaves under your feet— could it be that Hashirama had cleaned the path you were now walking on?

Your heart bubbled at the thought of your husband trying to keep the path clean and perfect for you, and suddenly you understood why Tobirama was sometimes alone in the Hokage Tower and seemed a bit nervous when you asked about your husband's whereabouts.

A laugh threatened to escape your throat, but fortunately, you held it back. Both brothers were terrible liars, maybe it was in their genetics.

“We're here, darling,” Hashirama said excitedly. You could practically feel him bouncing a little with excitement, like an impatient child wanting to show something he was proud of.

“Alright… open your eyes”

You opened them only to marvel at the variety of vibrant colors dazzling your sight.

In front of you was a landscape with several flowers of different shades and colors. The soft scent that filled your lungs made you sigh with pleasure, freeing your mind. You vaguely wondered how you hadn't noticed the smell of the flowers before; maybe you were so focused in your mind that you didn't pay attention to it.

The gentle squeeze of Hashirama's hand softly brought you out of your thoughts. The sun was beginning to set, and the sky was tinted with various colors, which only added to the beauty of the landscape before you.

“Shall we?” your husband asked, excited to show you around.

Your eyes shone, “Yes...”

And if you both did something else that afternoon, well, that would stay between you two and the flowers surrounding you.

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