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scuderiahoney · 4 months

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Be Brave

Oscar Piastri x reader

Masterlist

Summary: You’re a teacher, and someone’s had the brilliant idea to send your class full of 5 year olds to the McLaren Technology Centre. Chaos ensues. Oscar’s there to help.

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: none

a/n: this is not the angst I threatened or the fic from the dialogue poll I did, but a secret third thing: a request I finally got the motivation to finish after seeing cute pics of Oscar with kids. Enjoy!

In hindsight, whoever’s idea it was to bring a classroom of five year olds to the McLaren Technology Centre- an active car factory- has definitely never stepped foot in a classroom full of five years olds. You’re lucky- your students are quite well behaved, and you’ve got plenty of parent chaperones with you. It turns out that about half your class’ families seem to be McLaren fans. Half your students had showed up today in bright orange- papaya, one of them had corrected you. You’re not complaining- it makes them easier to spot.

The field trip has been fun. The kids are thrilled about everything. It’s just. Tiny hands, tiny humans, wandering through an active car factory? You’re on edge the whole time. You’re constantly scanning the class, counting to make sure you haven’t lost any students as the tour guide tries to explain mechanical engineering in words that 5 year olds will understand.

You breathe a mild sigh of relief when they bring you into a large, open conference room. They’re going to have someone come speak to the kids in a few minutes. While you have the chance, and a closed room with enough people to guard the exits, you stand in front of your class and tell them to go wild. Seventeen five year olds begin to run around the room. One 5 year old clings to your hand in the quietest corner of the room.

Sammy. He’s a quiet kid, not one for the chaos. He’s stuck to your side the whole morning, staring at everything with big eyes and jumping at all the loud noises. You relate to him more than you’d like to admit. Somehow, the quiet kid turned into a teacher. It seems almost hard to believe looking back, how painfully shy you were.

Sammy tugs on your hand and points at a large mural on one of the walls. “Who’s that?” He asks.

The room you’re in has the two current drivers plastered on the walls, larger than life. You look where he’s pointing and smile.

“That’s Oscar Piastri,” you say, extending the syllables for him.

“Os-car Pi-as-tri,” he sounds out. “That’s my dad’s favorite driver.”

You smile. “Wanna know a secret?” He nods, and so you whisper loudly. “He’s my favorite too.”

Sammy giggles. “Oscar Piastri.”

“He says it better than most of the broadcasters, I think,” says someone behind you.

You turn and come face to face with none other than Oscar Piastri. You hope your shock isn’t too obvious, and you try to control your wide eyes. They’d said someone from the team was going to come talk to your kids- you hadn’t expected it to be one of the drivers. You smile politely as you feel Sammy step behind your legs.

“Hi. Sorry about the…” you wave your hand in the general direction of the children running around behind you. “If they didn’t get some excercise they were never going to make it through the rest of the day.”

“No worries,” Oscar says, smiling brightly. He looks at Sammy where he’s hiding behind you. “Not this guy, though?”

“No, Sammy here is very well behaved and polite,” you say proudly, before whispering, “and quite shy.”

Oscar nods in understanding. His face has gone soft. You weren’t lying when you said he was your favorite, and it only increases with the way he looks at the five year old so fondly. You think maybe Oscar understands Sammy all too well. You turn over your shoulder to look at the little boy.

“Sammy, should we practice being big and brave and introducing ourselves?” You ask. He frowns slightly but nods anyways. “We’ll do it together, okay?”

He nods again and steps out from behind your legs. You stand up straight, and he follows suit. Then you stick your hand out to shake Oscar’s as you introduce yourself.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” he says, repeating your name back to you. “I’m Oscar.”

Sammy takes a tentative step forward and sticks his tiny hand out. You drop back just a bit and pull your phone from your pocket, giving Oscar a questioning glance and making a camera sort of motion with your hands. He nods eagerly before he crouches down to Sammy’s level.

“My name is Samuel,” he says, as he shakes Oscar’s hand. “But you can call me Sammy.”

You hide an endeared laugh behind your hand and snap a picture of the two of them. You know his parents will be thrilled.

“Hi, Sammy,” Oscar says sweetly. “My name is Oscar. It’s very nice to meet you.”

“You’re my dad’s favorite driver,” Sammy says. “And my teacher’s favorite driver. So I think you’re my favorite, too. Os-car Pi-as-tri.”

You stare down at him with wide eyes, suddenly feeling betrayed by your favorite student. Your face grows warm, but Oscar just laughs lightly and smiles up at you.

“Is that so?” He says, turning back to Sammy. “I’m honored.”

He stands back up, and Sammy goes back to clinging to your side. There’s a bright smile on Oscar’s face. You know yours matches it.

“So, are you our guest speaker?” You ask, trying to will your face to cool down.

He nods eagerly, eyes darting around the room, watching kids run everywhere. One of them bumps into the back of your legs and squeaks out a quick apology before running away again. He laughs lightly, hiding it behind his hand.

“Hopefully Lando and I can keep them entertained,” he says.

“Oh, they’ll be fine, they’ll sit quietly when I ask them to,” you say.

He gives you an uncertain look, a soft smirk on his lips. You laugh, hoping it’s not painfully obvious how taken you are with him. He’s been your favorite driver because of his level head and dry humor, but standing in front of him you can’t help but notice how cute he is. Before he can say anything in response and challenge your ability to control your class, Lando comes stumbling into the room.

“Okay, now this is my kinda school trip,” he says, an impressed grin on his lips. He elbows Oscar. “This was me as a kid.”

Oscar gestures towards Sammy, still tucked against your leg. “This was me, I think.”

Lando laughs and nods. He tilts his head at you, and you stick your hand out once again and introduce yourself. Sammy follows suit. Lando bends to shake the five year olds hand, giving both you and him an impressed smile.

“Sammy’s working on being big and brave and introducing himself,” Oscar says.

“Well he’s doing a great job,” Lando says with an approving nod.

“He’s got a great teacher,” Oscar says, grinning at you.

With that, your face grows hot again. You clear your throat and turn over your shoulder to look at the class. They’re beginning to slow just slightly. Perfect timing.

You clap your hands, and each of them skids to a stop, turning to look at you. “Okay, friends! Come sit up here, we have some very special guest speakers.”

The children all make their way to the front of the room, sitting down on the carpet in a semicircle. Even Sammy wanders away, taking a seat near the back. You turn back to Oscar and Lando, who both have impressed looks on their faces.

“I think we need you to run our meetings,” Oscar says, brows raised.

“Oh, if you give them permission to go crazy consistently when they need it, they’ll listen when you tell them it’s time to be calm,” you say with a shrug. “My mum was a teacher, too, she taught me that.”

“Yeah, if Zak let me be a menace before meetings I’d have a lot easier time sitting through them,” Lando agrees. “Alright, you little muppets!”

He steps in front of the class. Oscar gives you an exasperated smile, like you’re both sharing a moment of understanding. Maybe Lando’s still a 5 year old at heart. You laugh and step back with the chaperones to watch them speak as Oscar follows Lando’s lead. It’s fun to watch. You realize they couldn’t have picked better speakers.

Some of the kids recognize the drivers, but even the ones who don’t are enamored once they find out that these guys drive race cars for a living. You snap lots of pictures of your students staring up at them with wide grins. Lando continues to call them muppets, earning laughs each time. Oscar gets down on their level and uses a little model of the car to explain the aerodynamics. They give a horrible demonstration of slipstream, with Lando pretending to drive and Oscar pretending to be the air. Then, at the end, they open it up for questions. Eighteen tiny hands fly up into the air.

“Do you speed when you drive a normal car?” One of them asks.

“Never,” Lando lies.

“D’you ever fight with other drivers?” Another student asks.

“We try to leave what happens in the race on the track,” Oscar answers. “We’re all quite nice to each other outside of the races, actually.”

Lando shrugs and shakes his hand from side to side. A few of the kids catch on and laugh.

Sammy is sitting in the back of the group, his hand raised. He’s not waving it around, not bouncing up and down. But you watch Oscar scan the group, see him spot the tiny hand anyways.

“Sammy,” he calls out. “What’s your question?”

Sammy looks shocked to have been called on, but he clears his throat and speaks up. “What’s your favorite color?”

The grin that breaks across Oscar’s face is endearing. Lando smiles, too, presses his hand to his chest. You wait for the canned answer- papaya, you think.

“Mine’s bright green,” Lando says.

Oscar nods. “Mine is blue. What’s yours?”

“Mine is blue too,” Sammy answers.

“Good taste.” Oscar says. He exchanges a grin with you. You smile proudly at Sammy, so happy to see him step out of his shell just a bit.

The next student who gets called on says, “my mum told me to ask if you’re single,” and you clap your hands and walk towards the front.

“Okay, friends, I think Oscar and Lando have given us enough of their time,” you say. “Can we all say a big thank you?”

A chorus of little voices calls out varying forms of thank you. One of them screams it, and Lando winces. Oscar’s cheeks are pink, probably from the student asking about his relationship status. Is it bad that you almost wanted him to answer? You’re being ridiculous, you know. But his flushed face is cute, and you can’t help but smile at him.

You shake their hands one more time before they leave. “Thanks again. You’ve really just made their days.”

“We were happy to,” Oscar says.

“Yeah, you’ve got a good group of kids,” Lando agrees.

“And they’ve got a good teacher,” Oscar repeats his earlier comment.

You laugh, feeling your face grow hot. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

Oscar goes to say something else, but someone leans in through the door and calls out to him and Lando. He smiles sheepishly as Lando urges him towards the exit, tugging on his shirt.

“It was nice meeting you!” Oscar calls out before he disappears through the doors.

You turn back to your class and refocus. It’s time to move on to lunch, which is always the worst part of any field trip. Someone comes by to bring your group to the cafeteria. Your field trip worst nightmare- a large, open room full of people. You make sure all the chaperones are set with their groups and head off.

It goes fine. At first. You get the kids settled at tables and do a quick head count. Everyone’s there. They provide lunch for the kids, so you help to hand them out to everyone. Eighteen five year olds sit quietly, eat sandwiches and drink juice. You breath a little sigh of relief.

Then the kids all decide they need to go to the bathroom. You split them up, send them with chaperones in groups. You stay back at the tables with the ones who say they don’t need to go, knowing full well that in ten minutes they’ll be whining for the restroom. You clean up spilled apple juice and eat half your lunch. The bathroom groups come back one by one. Seventeen five year olds sit down at the tables.

And no, that can’t be right. You count again. Seventeen. One more time- seventeen. There’s an empty seat. You turn to the nearest chaperone, who also has a panicked look on his face.

“Sammy,” he says, eyes wide. “He was in my bathroom group, I swore he came back with us-“

You can’t panic. You turn to the nearest McLaren employee and tell them the situation. The look on her face tells you she’s going to panic, so you take control of the situation. You ask her to get everyone on the lookout for him, to page him over the speakers. Then you turn to your class.

“Friends,” you say, loudly. “Has anyone seen Sammy?”

Casey, one of the louder boys, raises his hand. “He stopped to tie his shoes when we were coming back.”

You could strangle the parent for not noticing, for not keeping an eye on the kids, but you don’t have time for that. At the very least, you have a starting point. You delegate a couple chaperones to stay with the kids in the cafeteria, and enlist a couple others to help you look. Panic is itching at the back of your brain, but you keep it tamped down. You’ll find him, and then you’ll freak out about it.

You split up, wandering the halls and asking everyone if they’ve seen a shy five year old with dark hair. They all tell you no, but that they’ll keep their eyes peeled. You check around corners, behind doors, in conference rooms and offices. You think you accidentally interrupt what was likely a very important meeting, though when you explain you’re looking for a missing child the men in suits all seem to understand.

The longer it goes on, the more sick to your stomach you feel. It’s Sammy. He got separated from his group and probably panicked just like you want to do now. He could be anywhere. He’s tiny, he could be hiding somewhere you’d never even think to look. His parents are going to kill you-

Oscar calls your name. It’s probably odd that you already recognize his voice, but you don’t have time to worry about that. You turn to look at him, and relief washes over you. He’s standing at the end of the hallway, his hand holding onto Sammy’s. You want to march down the hallway to them, but instead you collapse against one of the walls and press your hand to your mouth. Oscar pulls him towards you.

“I found him wandering in the hallway upstairs,” Oscar says. “He said he got lost.”

You nod, crouching down to Sammy’s level. He hides behind Oscar’s legs slightly.

“You’re not in trouble,” you say. “It’s okay. You found a helper, right? We always say that, look for the helpers. It’s okay! But next time you stop to tie your shoe-“ Oscar muffles a laugh behind his hand at that. “-you tell a grown up, okay?”

Sammy nods solemnly. You stand back up.

“Thank you,” you say to Oscar. “I owe you one, big time.”

“No worries,” he says, shrugging. “Knew you must be freaking out, so.”

You reach for Sammy’s hand and head for the cafeteria. To your surprise, Oscar follows. You’re not complaining.

“I’ve only been teaching for a year,” you explain, though you doubt he cares. The nervous energy needs to go somewhere, you suppose. “And I still feel brand new, you know? And school trips- don’t even get me started.”

Oscar laughs. “But field trips were the best part of school.”

“I lost a five year old in a car factory,” you say dryly. “Field trips are much less fun as a teacher.”

Oscar nods in understanding, trying and failing to hide his laughter. You come into view of the cafeteria and start counting heads. There are seventeen other 5 year olds still sitting at the tables. Sammy joins them, and you breathe a sigh of relief. Oscar does too. You pull out your phone and call the other chaperoned who went off to look, and tell them to head back to the cafeteria. With any luck, you might still be able to finish the tour.

“He’s a good kid,” Oscar says fondly, and you smile.

“He’s my favorite,” you admit. “I was a shy kid, too.”

Oscar leaves soon after that with a soft smile and an even softer goodbye. You wish he was the one leading the tour, but you know that would never happen. You’re lucky enough to have had the chance to meet him. He’s the same age as you, and he’s a world famous racecar driver. He’s probably already forgotten your name.

The rest of the tour is uneventful. None of your students wander off, and all of them are well behaved. They spot photos of Oscar and Lando in the halls and point excitedly at them, calling out their names. Finally, you’re brought out onto the lawn near the lake, and you give the kids a few minutes to play in the grass. You have the strong urge to lay down on the lawn and let them run until they all pass out. They have boundless energy, but you’re exhausted.

Someone nudges your arm lightly. You turn, expecting it to be a kid or a chaperone, but you come face to face with Oscar again.

“Oh god, did I lose another one?” You ask frantically.

He laughs. “No, no! Just came by to say goodbye.”

“Oh,” you say in understanding. “Thanks again, you know, for finding Sammy and for talking to the kids. I don’t think they’re gonna stop talking about this for ages.”

Oscar’s cheeks are flushed. “I’m glad they had a good time.”

You nod. “I did too, even with all the chaos. You have a really cool job, you know?”

He shrugs. “Not as important as yours. Tiny minds, shaping the future, you know.”

You let out a puff of air. “Sometimes it feels like I’m just struggling to keep the tiny humans alive, let alone teach them anything.”

He’s staring at you with this warm look on his face. You like his smile. There’s something comforting about it.

“Nah, I see the way they look at you. And Sammy introduced himself, you taught him that,” Oscar says. “That’s way more important than shapes or letters.”

Your face grows even hotter. “Thanks, Oscar.”

You see the bus pulling up the road out of the corner of your eye. About time to round the kids up. You turn towards your class, who are running around on the grass.

“Well, I’ve got to get them rounded up to go back, so unless you want to get mobbed by tiny humans you might want to make a run for it,” you say. “They’re distracted now, but they’ve been talking about you all afternoon.”

Oscar laughs brightly. “Yeah. I’ll head out. Um- d’you maybe-“ he pauses, and when you turn to him he shakes his head. “Sorry. Maybe I need to go back to school. Just. Have a good rest of your day. It was lovely meeting you.”

“You too,” you say warmly. “Thanks again.”

He disappears and you watch him go. You wonder what he was going to say- it sounded an awful lot like a question. But he’s gone now, and you’ll probably never see him again, so you try and let it go. By the time you get your class back to the school, it’s almost time for pickup. They’re all half asleep at their desks, absolutely worn out. Parents come by one by one to pick them up, and when Sammy’s dad shows up, you pull him aside and explain everything, the worst feeling in your stomach.

He laughs and shakes his head. “He does that to us all the time. We’ll be on a walk and he just- stops. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

Sammy wanders over as you’re still processing the fact that his dad isn’t mad. “Guess who I met?” He says, staring up at his dad with a wide grin.

“Who?” His dad asks.

“Os-car Pi-as-tri,” Sammy says.

“That’s actually true,” you chime in. “I have the pictures to prove it.”

His dad looks at you with wide eyes. “If you’d have led with that, I wouldn’t have even heard you when you said he got lost.”

Despite what Sammy’s dad said, you toss and turn all night. Thankfully, it’s a Friday, so you don’t have to teach the next day. Every time you close your eyes you think of seventeen tiny heads, and one missing, and you feel sick to your stomach again. When you finally do fall asleep, you dream of children disappearing and warm brown eyes paired with an Australian accent. You spend the weekend trying to get your mind off of all of it.

On Monday, Sammy’s mother brings him into the classroom earlier than normal. You’re still turning on the lights and straightening things when they come in. He’s holding a little bouquet of flowers, and your heart melts.

“Sammy wanted to apologize for getting lost,” his mother says. “We know you must’ve been very worried.”

You let out a breath. “Thank you, Sammy.”

He nods, and you take the flowers from him. Then he scurries away to the play area.

“It’s okay,” his mother says. “Peter said you were really beating yourself up over it.”

You shrug. “It’s my worst fear, you know? I hate school trips.”

She laughs. “You know, he really likes you. We were worried, with how quiet he is, that he’d hate school. But you make it fun for him. So thank you.”

You smile, unsure of what to say in response other than, “thank you.”

You turn to your desk to find a vase or a cup for the bouquet, and that’s when you see the other flowers. A mix of white peonies and white roses and greenery, with little orange flowers stuck between all of them. You stop in your tracks. Behind you, Sammy’s mother laughs.

“Got a secret admirer?”

You shake your head uncertainly. You’re not sure how anyone even got flowers into your classroom this early on a Monday. But there they are, sitting proud and pretty. There’s a note tucked into the stems with your name on it, and so you pull the little envelope out and open it.

Hi,

I hope you had a lovely time at the MTC. I really enjoyed meeting you. I’d love to take you out for dinner sometime. Hope this isn’t too forward,

Oscar

His number is written below. You let out a squeak. You can tell she wants to look over your shoulder or ask who it’s from, but she bites her tongue. Sammy’s your favorite student, and his parents are up there, too. But this feels like too much to share with a parent, so you shove the note in your pocket.

“Just a friend,” you lie.

“How sweet,” she says, nodding. “Well, I’d better be off. I’ll take Sammy out to the playground. We just wanted to stop in and chat.”

“Thank you,” you say, turning to her with a smile. “And sorry. Again.”

She gives you an amused smile. “It’s okay.”

You carry the note around in your pocket with you the whole day, unsure of what to do about it. Of course, all your students notice the flowers, and they tell all their friends at lunch, who then tell all their teachers. Suddenly everyone seems to need to borrow something from you, sticking their heads into your classroom and just then noticing the flowers. How pretty! Beautiful! Who are they from? You tell them all the same thing. A friend. It’s only when your favorite coworker, Maggie, comes into your classroom later that you finally tell someone.

The kids have all gone home for the day, and you’re cleaning up the last bits of paper from your class activity. She walks in and beelines for the bouquet on the desk.

“Okay, I have a theory,” she says.

“And what’s that?” You ask.

“Orange flowers,” she says. “Someone from your trip on Friday.”

“Papaya,” you correct softly.

“Huh?”

“They call it papaya, not orange,” you say. She gives you a look, one brow raised. “I know. I…”

You dig the envelope out of your pocket and throw it to her. She opens it and gasps, sinking down in your desk chair. She must reread it five times, letting out giddy noises.

“So when are you getting dinner?” She asks.

“I haven’t texted him yet,” you admit.

She stares at you with wide eyes. “He’s your favorite driver and he gave you his number and you didn’t text him?”

“That’s the thing though, Mags,” you say with a sigh. You lean against one of the desks. “He’s an F1 driver. I’m… me.”

“Yeah, and he liked you enough to send flowers to your classroom.”

“It’s not that, it’s…” you shrug. “Those guys date supermodels and actresses and pro athletes. I’m… a teacher.”

“Babe, if you don’t text him you’ll regret it,” she says. “Big time. Just give him a shot.”

You take your flowers home with you, placing them carefully in the passenger seat of your car. You set them on your kitchen counter. They oddly feel like they belong there, like that’s what the room has been missing, though you didn’t know it before. And as you sit there and eat dinner, you take out your phone and type in a new number.

…..

It takes a while for your schedules to line up, but when they finally do, you find that Oscar’s a fun person to go on a date with. Fun might be an understatement, actually. You’ve never had a better time on a date.

You’ve been texting since the day he sent you the flowers, back and forth trying to coordinate a date at first. And then it turned into little funny texts, photos of things throughout your days that made you both smile. You update him on your class, he tells you what chaos Lando’s been causing. He sends memes, and you send him ones back. By the time you actually see him in person again, it’s like you already know him.

You’d been worried that a date with someone like him was going to be a fancy restaurant that you would feel out of place at. But he suggests a little hole in the wall pub that he says is his favorite, and you eagerly agree. You meet him there in a casual outfit, jeans and a cute sweater. He’s dressed in jeans and a sweater too, his hair adorably messy. He has that same warm smile on his face.

The two of you sit and order, and any awkwardness you’d expected just isn’t there. It’s like you’re two old friends, already comfortable with each other. He jokes with you, and you match his dry humor step for step. He’s the only person you’ve ever been on a date with who doesn’t seem to bore of your stories about 5 year olds. His knee knocks against yours under the table, and you don’t pull away. You find yourself leaning closer, actually. You’re longing to reach across the table, to feel his skin against yours.

You look around later and realize it’s been quite a while since the two of you sat down. The restaurant is starting to empty out. Oscar seems to notice the same, and reluctantly asks for the bill, refusing when you try to pay for your own. You both stand up from the table and head for the door. You stop just outside, breathing in the cool night air.

He nods towards a nearby park. “Wanna take a walk?”

You definitely aren’t ready to say goodbye, so you agree. He sees you shiver slightly, and within seconds he drapes his jacket over your shoulders. It’s warm, like him, and it smells like him too. You smile bashfully up at him as you shove your arms through the sleeves. When your hand pops out, he wastes no time in linking your fingers together. You bite back a gasp.

His hand is warm against yours. It sends a shiver up your spine. You hold on tight to him and hope your palm isn’t sweaty.

He turns to look at you. “I had a really good time tonight.”

You smile. “Me too.”

“I was thinking, wondering I guess,” he says, “If you’d maybe want to do this again?”

You slow to a stop under a streetlight. He follows suit. You press your eyes shut.

“Oscar, I… I had a really good time. And I really like you,” you tell him. “But you’re world famous and I’m just me. I just don’t know…”

He squeezes your hand. “We can take it slow.”

You sigh and open your eyes to look at him. The fluorescent light shines off his fluffy hair and his cheekbones. He has a hopeful look in his eye that you’d hate to rid him of.

“You make me feel grounded,” he says. Your heart twists in your chest. “You have since that day at the MTC. You’ve just got this calming presence. And I think you’re funny, and pretty, and- yeah.”

“You think I’m pretty?” You tease.

He blushes. “Shut up.”

It’s scary, really, to think about. You want to try but he’s a bit intimidating, no matter how well you get along. And the attention that will come from dating him is even scarier. But you think of Sammy, hiding behind your legs, and how you’re trying to teach your students to be big and brave, and how you should try that, too.

You laugh and squeeze his hand. “I think you’re pretty too,” you admit, just to watch his cheeks grow redder. A sheepish smile crosses his lips, and he rolls his eyes playfully. “And kind, and funny. So yeah. We should do this again.”

“Cool,” Oscar says.

“Cool,” you agree.

Then he kisses you under the streetlamp, his hand still linked with yours. And yeah, you could get used to this.

…..

Two months later, when Sammy comes into class, he points an excited finger at you.

“I saw you on TV!” He squeaks.

You laugh. “Did you?”

He nods assertively. “My mum said I was probably wrong, but I know it was you. You were holding hands with Os-car Pi-as-tri.”

You laugh and put a finger to your lips. He takes the hint, but he laughs the whole way to his seat. You think it might be time to talk to Oscar about going public with your relationship. After all, if the five year olds are catching on, the adults will be soon, too.

When your students find out, they beg you to take them to a race. You think back to the McLaren field trip and decide you’re never, ever taking eighteen 5 year olds anywhere near a race track. That would be bad for everyone’s health. But when Sammy shows up as a grid kid at the next British Grand Prix, that’s all on Oscar. It’s definitely not because he’s your favorite student.

Okay, maybe it is.

a/n: my lovely 🐈❤️‍🩹 anon sent me a photo of Oscar with a grid kid & said: Oscar and Sammy. Please look at this photo I screamed over it. can imagine teacher!reader standing off to the side trying not to cry over how cute Oscar is tbh. anyways thanks for reading!!

taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan

#Oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri oneshot #oscar piastri fanfic #Oscar piastri fluff #formula one fluff #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula one x reader #formual one oneshot #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #honeywrites #op81

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eloves-writes · 5 months

Text

careful who you’re talking to

[coriolanus snow x reader]

desc: snow hears a conversation with the academy boys about the girl he is secretly seeing and wants them to know who you belong to warnings: snow being snow like fr (toxic, controlling, insane, blah blah blah), smut, exhibitionism, public sex, unwarranted sexual comments about reader behind her back, she/her pronouns used, reader is wearing a dress, if i need to add any other warnings please lmk a/n: hiiiii! i'm back again. this is slightly unhinged and i didn't mean for it to be this unhinged but anyway hope u enjoy, send any and all coriolanus requests my way! mwah mwah mwah ily this work contains mature themes, minors dni

it was a cold night in the capitol, and you were steadily sipping a glass of posca to keep warm in your blood-red dress. the silky material was slit up your leg and cut down to reveal just the right amount of cleavage; you might feel a chill but you looked damn good and everybody knew it.

especially coriolanus snow. the two of you had been spending a lot of time together recently- behind bookshelves in the library, in dark corners of the academy halls, bend over desks in empty classrooms. it had begun as purely physical. stress relief. but after a month or so, you had each caught feelings for the other and were struggling with whether or not to admit it. and in that moment, he was also struggling tremendously to take his eyes off of you.

you stood talking across the room with arachne and livia, unable to concentrate on whatever meaningless gossip they were discussing with the feeling of coriolanus’ ice blue eyes on you; there was an electric thrill passing between you like you were connected with a live wire. to say your relationship so far had been hot and heavy would be an extremely severe understatement, and you found your mind constantly occupied with the thought of him touching you and the need to have him touch you again.

“i think y/n is checking me out,” festus creed smirked to the group of boys around him.

coriolanus almost snorted in amusement. you were obviously looking at him, and only him.

“something funny, snow?” gaius asked sharply. “jealous, perhaps?”

snow reserved his irritation. “not at all, breen.”

“whoever she is looking at,” felix stated earnestly, “i’m certainly jealous of them. i mean, just look at her. she looks fucking hot.”

festus nodded in agreement. “i’d love to rip that dress off of her. she acts so innocent, but you just know she likes it rough.”

coriolanus felt his blood boil. you were his. how dare they talk about you like you were a common whore? perhaps you did like it rough. he would know, he was the one fucking you. not these basic capitol losers. none of them could make you scream the way he did. none of them had scratches down their backs beneath their shirts from your nails. only he did. only he ever would, and he would make sure it stayed that way.

the other boys laughed, agreeing with festus. adding on their own ideas. detailing the ways they’d make you fuck them. describing the times you had supposedly sent them signals. assuming that you did not already belong to snow, that you would even think about going near them. that you would get on your knees for them like you always did for coriolanus.

he couldn’t listen to them any longer. “she’s seeing somebody,” he jeered, fixing the cuffs of his jacket and making definitive, unquestionable eye contact with you and subtly tilting his head towards the exit.

festus laughed incredulously. “is she now? i think we’d have heard.”

oh you’ll hear it alright.

“yes,” coriolanus replied with a chilling calm, watching you make your way to the door. “if you’ll excuse me.”

on the steps outside the ridiculously grand building, you waited patiently for snow to follow you out. it was only a few minutes before you heard the door open again, turning to face corio and immediately sensing anger. you worried, sometimes, about his anger. you knew he wouldn’t seriously harm you, but the same could most certainly not be said for any others who dared cross his path. the future president of panem could only afford so much blood on his hands.

“what’s wrong, coriolanus?” you asked gently.

he inhaled deeply and stared into your eyes in a way that strongly suggested you would be unable to walk the next morning. you waited for him to answer.

“you shouldn’t have worn that dress," he warned.

“what?”

“you heard me.”

either the cold or a fucked up part of you sent shivers down your spine, hairs standing up on your neck. your underwear dampened at his fury.

“i thought you would like it, corio,” you flirted, stepping closer to him. he placed a large, firm hand on your waist.

“i do like it, y/n,” he said before speaking in a low voice. “i would like it better if you took it off.”

you smiled and leaned up to kiss him, but he turned his head. you pulled a face in protest.

“behave,” he spat. “so desperate. do you not want to know why you shouldn’t have worn this?”

“yes, corio,” you replied, doing your best impression of somebody who wasn’t about to throw yourself on top of him. he liked when you were patient.

“because every man in that room wants to see it on their bedroom floor," he attested lowly.

“and you’re jealous,” you smirked.

coriolanus suddenly grabbed a fistful of your hair and roughly pulled your head backwards so that your face was tilted towards his. “and nobody else should be looking at you like that.”

a jolt of excitement ran through you. “corio-”

he gave your hair another tug. “say you’re mine.”

“am i yours?”

he realised instantly the meaning of your question. he didn’t have to think about his reply; he had thought about it every waking moment since the day you met. “you’re mine. say it.”

“i’m yours.”

“good girl,” snow spoke deeply before kissing you like he’d never kissed you before. without breaking apart from your lips, coriolanus guided you around to the side of the building. he counted the windows you passed until finally stopping by one that was cracked open and pushing you against the cold wall. as he removed his jacket and unfastened his belt, he looked inside the hall and you assumed he was checking no one was looking. he wasn’t. he was making sure that festus creed and the other boys were still stood in the same spot; directly in front of this particular window, and far enough from the rest of the partygoers that only the boys would hear you.

you gathered the skirt of your dress at your waist and wrapped your legs around corio’s sturdy form as he reached to move your underwear to the side. he circled your clit until you were practically whimpering, then slid two fingers inside of you.

“corio, feels so good,” you moaned softly.

he kept his same pace with his fingers, fucking you into a state of bliss where he knew you would be uninhibited and so drunk with his stimulation that people would think you’d finished every glass of posca in this stupid party. coriolanus was too good at what he was doing, you were on the edge of release within minutes and still desperately trying to quiet yourself in the name of dignity.

“corio, please, corio, i’m so close,” you whimpered into his neck.

he pulled away his hand, making you whine in displeasure. he liked to do that. liked to know he was in complete control of you, you would only cum when he willed it.

corio looked through the window again, but the boys had yet to hear anything out of the ordinary. they were still laughing amongst themselves. he unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock, using the slick on from your pussy to stroke himself before he pushed inside of you.

you tried again to stay quiet, but coriolanus began to coax you. “look at you, taking me so well. you wouldn’t let anybody else fuck you like this, would you? who makes you feel this good, huh?”

you couldn’t hold back anymore, his beautiful face spewing such foul things whilst fucking you raw and digging his fingertips into your flushed skin. “you do, corio. fuck,” you moaned, loudly enough that festus turned to look outside.

coriolanus smirked as they made eye contact. the initial confusion about the sounds coming from outside, the look of shock as he realised his classmate was balls deep in a girl he had pushed against the exterior of a building in the damn capitol, his face finally dropping as he realised who corio was fucking by the colour of your messed up hair and the visible strap of your dress, his eyes widening as he heard the things snow was saying to you.

your moans were getting louder too as you got even closer to your orgasm, whimpering corio’s name and repeating “i’m yours,” like a mantra.

snow took his gaze from the boys to you, feeling satisfied that he’d proved his point and starting to performatively enjoy himself, knowing yours weren't the only eyes on him. his pace quickened, driving you over the edge and making you clench around him as you came. he moaned aloud himself as continued to fuck you through your high and the overstimulation that came after until he finished inside of you.

you were completely fucked out, relishing the feeling of snow’s cum beginning to drip down your thighs after he swiftly removed your underwear to fold into his back pocket. he picked his discarded jacket up from the floor and placed it over your shoulders, kissing your head and leading you to the front of the building and helping you into a car which would take you both home. before you walked away from the window though, coriolanus smoothly pulled your lace panties from his pocket and waved them nonchalantly in the night air, catching the attention of the rest of the group. you would never have to know why he fucked you, only that the boys would stop bothering you now they knew who you belonged to.

3K notes · View notes

ham1lton · 22 days

Text

nepo sister?

pairing: lando norris x fellow driver’s sister!reader (no faceclaim).

summary: your sister is one of the most famous f1 drivers in history and when she suddenly has a barrage of hate and online users comparing her to a certain lando norris, you’ve gotta step in and sort it out. you couldn’t foresee the man in question being into you.

warnings: jokes about adoption but it’s lighthearted. also mentions of racism and sexism. also y/n bullying poor lando in defence of her sister.

author’s note: as i do with requests, i put my own little spin on it! hope u enjoy 💕also i used aaliyah as your sister’s faceclaim but she’s your adopted sister so y/n is still pretty much whoever you view her to be. i refer to yn’s older sis as o/s. in case you were wondering who tf that is. reminder that requests are currently still open!

edit: now part of a series ! <3

liked by oldersister, yourbffsuser and 20,873 others.

yourusername: why is my sister so dramatic? she picked me up from the airport in a FUR jacket in a LIMO? also this cat is evil. genuinely evil. cat satan. catan?

oldersister: i was at an EVENT! 😭 you’re lucky i even picked your ass up anyways 🙄🖕🏾.

-> user1: their dynamic is so funny.

user2: y/n in melbourne for the grand prix??? 😍

user4: o/s looks sooo good 😍😍😍

user3: the cat is so cute 🥺

-> yourusername: no need to lie bae ❤️

————————————————————————

liked by zendaya, oldersister and 627,982 others.

yourusername: my sister before, during and after the race. plus our dad!! he’s new to this ig shit so be nice or i’ll bulldoze your grandma. let me start by just say something… my sister is one of the best drivers in the world. i see a lot of people cussing her out and all i’m gonna say is don’t pmo. she’s my sister but even besides that, her multiple historic accolades speak for themselves. quit playing with your misogynistic and racist shit before i drag your whole lineage.

oldersister: stop being so aggressive 🙄 but thank you. love you.

-> yourusername: posted this to cover the fact i spent $82 on fast food using your card 😘

-> oldersister: that’s it? that’s not the worst you’ve done tbf.

hater1: be real. lando is better than o/s in every shape and form. it’s just a fact.

-> yourusername: so why is o/s a two-time world champion and lando isn’t?

user1: SPEAK ON IT!!! 🗣️🔈

hater2: o/s is overrated.

-> yourusername: snore. ass take. come up with something original and not completely false.

user2: y/n said might i suggest you don’t fuck with my sis!!!

-> user6: she’s in her solange era 😭

user3: is this because someone said y/n was worse than lando?

-> yourusername: like 🤣 don’t ever compare the two. o/s is a world champion and lando is… lando.

-> landonorris: NO CAUSE WHY AM I IN THIS???? 😭

liked by charles_leclerc, tomholland and 283,928 others

landonorris: just woke up to my name trending on twitter. what you say fuck me for 😭😭 stop using my name to drag my fellow drivers i’m begging you.

user1: no cause if anything these haters are lando antis and not o/s antis. they set your ass up omgggg. pure insane hate.

user2: fighting for my life defending you.

user3: the three diff angles of the same george crying vid is crazy work ngl.

-> georgerussell63: no cause HE got dragged and now he’s setting ME up.

-> user3: dw king. find solace in that he either searched google purely for this photo or had them saved onto his phone. haters nowadays are fans in denial.

-> landonorris: nah i’m just a hater.

—————-—————-—————-—————-———

liked by landonorris, oldersister and 726,733 others.

yourusername: i met lando nowins. i guess he’s cool.

oldersister: now that’s just not right.

-> landonorris: i know!! after the four hour long convo y/n and i had, she still drags me 😔💔.

-> oldersister: i wasn’t talking about that. i’m talking about the picture she chose for me. why did she use that photo after catching me off guard??? and if you know y/n, get ready for the bullying. she does it to all her loved ones.

user2: HELPJSJSJAKA

user3: this is the content i follow you for y/n.

*liked by yourusername.*

1K notes · View notes

maplesyrupsainz · 3 months

Text

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙confidence | OP81˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: oscar piastri x reader y/n (she/her)

genre: social media au, new relationship

warnings: very fluffy !!!

summary: in which your new boyfriend and your bffs support you in increasing your confidence <3

a/n: i've done a logan fic rly recently so i chose oscar !! wasnt 100% sure on how to execute this but hope i did an ok job :))

request!!!: hi! Could i please request a smau with oscar or logan about shy/insecure reader and a driver trying to boost their confidence. Thank you, youre amazing. Love ya 💓

-> this fanfic came from a request ^ tht i copy pasted above but i lost the request idk if i deleted it from my inbox by accident or just dreamed it up perhaps. but here it is anyway srry to whoever req it but i did write it at least hope this finds u well 🤓

my masterlist

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, yourbff, and 47,812 others

yourusername havent posted in a while 🍓

view all 4,183 comments

user1 a y/n post who cheered

oscarpiastri me begging for a selfie

yourusername 🙄 u can see me whenever u want

user2 he's like us

user3 why does she never post herself😭😭

user4 booo we want more y/n content

user5 oscar looks so cute

yourbff lunch tomorrow

yourusername for sure

user6 luv how she doesnt even ask lol

user7 friendship goals

user8 dont even rmmbr what y/n looks like anymore 😭

yourbff

liked by logansargeant, yourusername, and 32,201 others

yourbff spring vibe 🌷

tagged: yourusername

view all 2,918 comments

user9 Y/N CRUMBS

user10 more y/n more y/n

oscarpiastri she is so beautiful

yourbff RIGHT?!! i wish she knew that

yourusername 🥲🥲

user11 omg?

user12 is y/n too shy to post herself often🥲

user13 y/n is a princess

user14 i wanna be friends with them

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, yourbff, and 88,972 others

oscarpiastri i have the most beautiful girlfriend in the world

tagged: yourusername

view all 9,183 comments

user15 omg this is so cute

user16 oscar hyping her up omg

user17 he's sooooooo sweet i love them

yourusername omg stop

yourusername literally blushing irl

yourbff can confirm

oscarpiastri well good coz im telling the truth

yourusername 😭 i love u so much

oscarpiastri i love u too u perfect girl

user18 me when😭😭😭

user19 soulmates fr

twitter ->

messages ->

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername posted a story

liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren, and 52,082 others

oscarpiastri so proud of u

yourusername 🥹

mclaren nice colour choice

liked by yourusername

user29 omg u went OFFFF y/n

user30 omg the orange yessss

landonorris papaya slay

yourusername yup so true lando.

landonorris oh ok i feel judged rn

yourusername dont say slay to me ever again then

yourbff YOU LOOK SO SO SO SO GOOD OH MY GOD

yourusername omg stop it u my number 1 fan

user31 we're so lucky rn

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, yourbff, and 77,184 others

yourusername 🎀

tagged: oscarpiastri

view all 8,283 comments

user32 soooooo cute

user33 THE LIL LAMB

user34 we loved seeing u at the race y/n :))

oscarpiastri perfect beautiful amazing !

yourusername my 🌍

mclaren see you next time y/n 😉

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri

user35 next time🤭

user36 she's my fav wag

liked by yourusername

user37 i will always be y/n's biggest supporter

messages ->

instagram ->

yourbff

liked by landonorris, yourusername, and 39,182 others

yourbff felt cute

view all 6,047 comments

yourusername cool

yourbff who , me?

yourusername sure why not

user38 IS THAT LANDO IS THAT LANDO IS THAT LANDO IS THAT LANDO IS THAT LANDO

user39 lando norris is that u

oscarpiastri cool!!

yourbff stop saying cool

oscarpiastri i said it 1 (one) time

landonorris ♟️

liked by yourbff, yourusername, oscarpiastri

user40 omg i hope her & lando r dating so cute actually

user41 booo return my man to me pls y/bff/n

user42 i just know y/n is behind this (whatever this is)

landonorris posted a story

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername, and 41,928 others

user43 omg i love them

user44 CUTIES

user45 omg they're in england

user46 so funny seeing them in a british pub

logansargeant free them from hell (the uk)

landonorris shut up american freak

logansargeant 🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸

user47 our aussie legends

yourusername

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 67,021 others

yourusername i love my best friends in the whole world i am so lucky to be me and have the most supportive ppl in my life .. i may be the shyest babyest girl ever but at least i got my hype men (especially u osc)

tagged: oscarpiastri, landonorris, yourbff

view all 13,644 comments

user48 fourple

liked by yourusername, yourbff, landonorris, oscarpiastri

yourbff i love you so much i am soo proud

yourusername i 🧡 u my ride or die

user49 OMG I LOVE THEM

user50 it's giving mclarencest

user51 HAHAH WHAT

user52 🙏 we used to pray for times like these

liked by oscarpiastri, yourbff

landonorris hype men reporting for business 🫡

yourusername thank u sir

user53 i love this dynamic

oscarpiastri OMG i love you

yourusername OMG i love you too

user54 so cute seeing her gain confidence over the season

user55 ikr feels so organic

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, logansargeant, and 88,173 others

oscarpiastri loml

tagged: yourusername

view all 16,928 comments

yourbff my favs foreverr

oscarpiastri 🧡

landonorris love you guys😻😻😻

oscarpiastri oh stop it you ..

user56 they r never beating the fourple accusations ^^

liked by landonorris

user57 y/n is the most gorgeous girl ever

user58 lando using the cat heart eyes emoji...?

user59 he's so girlypop

yourusername omg blushing

yourusername i love you

yourusername SOOOO MUCH

oscarpiastri i love you at least 1000x more

user60 obsessed

THE END 🧡

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 smau #f1 fic #f1 x reader #smau #f1 imagine #oscar piastri #op81 #op81 fluff #op81 imagine #op81 x reader #op81 fic #op81 x you #maddie's smau

1K notes · View notes

mickyschumacher · 11 months

Text

𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: being in a secret relationship with lando norris has been a journey in itself. but nothing comes harder than the moments where you both struggle to keep your hands off one another.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors DNI), unprotected sex (wrap it before your tap it lol), cumming inside, voyeurism, fingering, slight handjob, boyfriend established but secret, cute cringe couple humour, obvious pining, poor knowledge of pr specialist things, mentions of mental health and stress, mclaren in itself needs a warning, mention of fave menace w*ll b*xton (simply ew), allusion of future marriage

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: lando norris x mclaren’s pr specialist!fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4k+

𝐀/𝐍: this is based of taylor swift’s ‘dress’! okay, so i’m giving you lovelies this one and some others while i study for my last exam 😔 i actually have some requests which are exciting and nerve wrecking but i'm gonna try my level best to do them after my exam. although i’m also supposed be on a plane not too soon after. anyways, thank you so much for your support and patience ♡︎

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆ •°. 。 .°• ⋆

As a PR specialist, things were constantly changing. For example, for a certain amount of time you were assigned to Fernando Alonso when he was under McLaren. Quite honestly, it was a nightmare.

There was nothing wrong with Fernando. For the time you had spent with him, he was rather sweet. But the media had painted him out as some sort of tyrant of McLaren, claiming that the F1 team belonged to him as opposed to being owned by Zak Brown. Then again, you supposed the Spaniard’s lack of care for listening didn’t help either.

When learning that Fernando was leaving, you could only hope that whoever you were assigned to next was less work than him.

In came Lando Norris, a young driver with ambition and humour, and lucky for you, little work.

Somehow he just knew the right things to say. And if he didn’t, he was always asking you beforehand.

Between the both of you there was only a two year age gap so of course it was easy to befriend each other. You were always talking about something to the other.

His passion for DJing, his childhood or your love for travelling and the gossip of certain celebrities. How you were absolutely certain JLo and Ben Affleck was a PR couple because who on earth had a nude portrait of themselves above their bed?

It wasn’t until almost a year ago where you realised you liked him more than just a friend. There was just something about the way you two communicated that left in trailed sighs, awkward laughs desperate to talk more and grins that got your hearts pacing.

Or perhaps it was the way you had poured your hearts out to one another. As happy as Lando looked, he was one under a lot of pressure which affected is mental health. You were there for all of this ups and downs. You were his number on speed dial for everything.

And when things got a little too much for you, Lando did his best to not only be there for you but to cheer you up. Stupid jokes, random flowers and, teddy bears.

How were you not supposed to like him?

Surprisingly, Lando had been the one to confess his feelings to you. Well, only after one of the engineers from Mercedes was openly trying to court you at an F1 dinner.

Lando had gotten so jealous that he had pulled you aside that evening and begged you to not think of anyone else but him. That you were only supposed to smile like that at him… with him.

At first, you were thrilled and kind of shocked that Lando felt the same way. But that happiness and smile he liked so much quickly faded when you thought about your job.

‘F1’s Lando Norris is dating his PR specialist’…

Yeah… the implications of that sounded terrible. You could imagine it already. What was Lando hiding to date his publicist? Is Lando that good of a person?

And while you and all the people knew the truth, those types of rumours would’ve undermined your job in the first place and honestly, you were sure that McLaren wouldn’t exactly be jumping with excitement that you two were dating.

So you mentioned this to Lando with the suggestion of being secret about your relationship for now.

You could literally see some of the shine in his eyes fade. He was gutted but he understood what you meant. He’d rather be with you secretly than not at all and without his best friend.

our secret moments in a crowded room

they've got no idea about me and you

there is an indentation in the shape of you

made your mark on me, a golden tattoo

Your relationship with him had been a roller coaster. Neither of you had been in a secret relationship and neither of you could deny how fun it was.

Take right now for example. Today was the McLaren’s car launch for the 2023 F1 season. The room was filled to the brim with all sorts of people: journalists, publicists, engineers, marketers, social media managers, the new driver next to Lando, Oscar.

Yet with all those people, Lando and you found it impossible to not find each other. You were constantly meeting each others eyes, especially when you were nearby for his interviews.

There was a thrill, you must admit, about no one knowing about the two of you.

A rush of adrenaline at the thought that no one knew nor expected you to be in Lando’s bedroom this very morning before the launch.

“Remember to be sort of vague about the car and, well, everything. I mean obviously but I don’t think Will’s going down without a fight,” you reminded your boyfriend with an annoyed sigh.

Will Buxton was not only a F1 journalist but a man who got under everyone’s skin. You couldn’t fathom why people liked him in the first place.

Lando, who was leaning on his elbow on his bed, gave a hum of response. He only had half of his mind present as he watched you get ready. “Surely, this can’t be fair,’ He asked.

You raised a brow at him through the mirror. “What?” You queried before putting on a necklace. Sorry, attempting to. You weren’t exactly sure why the clasps of necklaces were made so poorly.

Lando got up from the bed and walked up behind you. He grabbed the necklace from your hands with an amused expression before bringing it to your neck. With one hand, he pushed your hair to the side and joined the clasp to the metal ring. He rested his fingers on the back of your neck, slowly rubbing the area as he met your gaze in the mirror.

“I mean, you get to wear this,” Lando started. His hands ran over the satin silk material of your black dress. It was fairly casual, landing mid-thigh. Perfect enough for you to blend into the crowd. Although, it didn’t matter for Lando. He could always pick you from the crowd. Especially, if you were wearing this. “And I wear this? It doesn’t seem fair,” he whispered into your ear.

You let out a small laugh, eyeing his new uniform for the season. You turned to face him, rubbing your hands over his chest and pretending to dust it. “I think you look quite good, love.”

Lando narrowed his eyes. You felt his hand travel up your neck and to your lips. “When did you even buy this? It wasn’t even in your closet?”

Your heart started to pace when you caught that knowing glint in his eyes. His mended brows seemed to ease when you didn’t respond. Sometimes you didn’t need to open your mouth to say anything. Instead, you let your eyes talk.

A small grin came to his face. He turned you to face the mirror. His hands came alive, roaming your thigh and waist. “Just for me, huh?” Lando smiled.

“Lando,” you warned weakly. You had a feeling where this was going. Honestly, you weren’t opposed to it. But the both of you needed to clock in soon. “It’s supposed to come off after the launch.”

Lando pursed his lips, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck and meeting your gaze. “Oh, it supposed to come off too? Jesus, I don’t think I can’t wait that long.”

Lando could feel the perfume he has come to love so much infiltrate his nose. God, this dress and now the perfume. How on earth was he going to get out of here?

“Fuck,” He murmured out. He closed his eyes and rested his chin on your shoulder. He needed to get himself together. But the thing about your skin was that it was so inviting… so warm.

You felt his his arms wrap around your waist as you added some finishing touches to your look. Lando pouted at you through the mirror.

“What’s wrong, baby?” You cooed, squishing his cheeks with your free hand.

“I don’t think I can leave this room. I can’t,” Lando groaned, starting a line of kisses on your neck.

“Lando…” You whimpered out pathetically, feeling your neck stretch out even more willingly. You could feel him close in on the one area near your ear.

“Fuck, Lando. Not there,” You swore but with no effort to stop him.

Lando’s greed seem to increase upon your exclaim. He furthered his attack on the spot, sucking enough of your intoxicating skin, not only to get his full but leave a fresh purple mark.

Now he was satisfied enough to leave the room.

You watched his lips leave your skin, almost leaving you to pour for a second before that dark spot on your skin caught your eyes.

You gasped. “You didn’t,” you said in disbelief, whacking your boyfriend.

Lando’s blues twinkled at you as he planted a cheeky kiss to your cheek. “I did.”

Now you were in a room of all these people. It was exhilarating for Lando to know that he had given you a tattoo of some sorts. To attend those interviews and know that behind your carefully placed hair, he had given you something no one else would ever… yeah, he was aching to leave.

It wasn’t any less for you. Even last night you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. You were walking around with the fact that you knew what was underneath the damn racing gear. The scratches and indentations of your hands on his skin caused by the will to bring Lando even closer to you.

all of this silence and patience, pining and anticipation

my hands are shaking from holding back from you… ha, ah, ah

all of this silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting

my hands are shaking from all this… ah, ha, ha, ha

Lando was looking at you probably more than one should look at their PR specialist to the point he was sure you could feel his eyes on you.

But he couldn't help. Every little thing you did in that dress had caught his attention.

Your pinky-red painted lips covering the champagne glass you held. Those lips he wanted for himself. On him. Everywhere. Now.

The occasional brush of your hands that sent shudders he had to surpress.

The lights of the venue practically spotlighting you so everyone could see how beautiful you looked. So Lando could see exactly how nicely the dress clung to everyone of those damning curves.

The polite smiles you offered every single person you met. A gesture that sent his heart racing.

The forced polite laughter and chuckles you gave to the people that flirted with you. A gesture that made him both proud and frustrated. Proud in that you were clearly faking it because he knew what your real smile and laugh was. Hell, he had the pleasure of making it everyday. And that people clearly found you as beautiful as he did. Frustrated because people were clearly into you and he could do nothing but watch in silence.

Lando couldn't blame them either. If he was them, he too would've stopped to impress. But he didn't need to. Not when you were his entirely and he yours.

The more he looked at you the more his hands shook and his patience wore thin. His hands ached for this day to end, for him to take you to his room, and remove that goddamn dress.

He could imagine what his former teammates Carlos and Daniel say. Something along the lines of "stop staring at her like you want to eat her".

Which, in all honestly, wasn't true.

Lando didn't want to eat you. He wanted to devour you. Slowly and gently. He wanted to appreciate you... all of you. So much that only his name was falling from those beautiful lips of yours.

say my name and everything just stops

i don't want you like a best friend

only bought this dress so you could take it off

take it oh, ha, ha, ha-ah

carve your name into my bedpost

'cause i don't want you like a best friend

only bought this dress so you could take it off

take it oh, ha, ha, ha-ah

Lando couldn't imagine the poor luck he had. The event was finally over and he was home. Without you.

You had become slightly tied with some last minute discussions with the reporters and journalists, even your dear favourite Will.

Which meant for the past hour, Lando had nothing but his thoughts. Thoughts that consisted only of you, that dress, and what he was going to do with you.

What was he supposed to do?

Unbothered to put on a new change of clothes, Lando was in bed only in his boxers which had a very obvious bulge.

Lando let out a sigh, his hand brushing over his clothed cock. "Fuck," he muttered out through a clenched jaw. If it was any other day, he would've lost all self-control and jerked off to his thoughts of you. But you were going to be home soon and he desperately wanted to feel you.

"Lando? Honey, I'm home!" Your voice echoed through his house, teasing him.

Lando whipped his head up, feeling all his thoughts and emotions briefly stop as he darted towards the entrance.

You were taking of your heels when you saw Lando stand in all his glory almost naked. You couldn't help but laugh lightly. "Oh my... I thought we discussed you not walking around the house naked, Lando."

Lando said nothing. Instead, he took a step towards, eyes searching your face and arms encircling your body closer to him.

The hairs on your body stood straight while goosebumps started to sprawl across your skin. Lando's thumb brushed across your bottom lip. "You were later than expected," He said in a tone that almost neared a whine.

You let out a sigh, kissing the tip of his thumb. "I know. I'm sorry, baby."

Lando grinned. "It's okay," He quipped before scooping you up in his arms.

You let out a yelp before smiling as Lando ventured to your bedroom. You could soon feel the soft sheets of your bed touch your skin while Lando hovered over you.

"You have to tell me what the deal with this dress is, love," Lando whispered. His finger slid under the strap of your dress before trailing all the way down to your bare breast.

You opened your mouth to answer but not even a hint of a sound came out as Lando's finger circled your nipple gently. You met his eager blue eyes, waiting for answer.

"I only bought this dress so you can take it off. Simple as that."

Lando let out a low exhale, feeling his cock harden even further. God, were you even real?

"Yeah?" He hummed, pushing the straps of your dress down your arms. He pushed his face down lower, wrapping his lips around your nipple as he continued to pull your dress down your body.

Your back arched on the bed, pushing yourself into his mouth even further. Without a word, you lifted your hips up and Lando had fully taken the dress off.

His other hand reached your other nipple, paying it an equal amount of attention. He rolled the pebbled mound between his thumb and index finger, giving it a slight squeeze.

You let out a small whimper. Your hand navigating through his short curls. You could feel your core tighten and your pussy become slick with your arousal.

Lando unlatched his lips from your breasts, using both hands to gently thumb your nipples. "Tell me want you want, love. I want to hear it from these pretty lips."

God... you couldn't even decide. "I don't know. I want your lips. Your fingers. Fuck, I want it all."

Lando couldn't help but grin as a he felt a surge of energy rush through. "I can do it all," He chuckled before bringing his lips to yours. His tongue darted between your lips and into your mouth. His hands trailed up and down your waist while a muffled moan came out of his mouth.

You kissed him back with the same intensity of fervor, bringing your hands around his neck, willing him closer to you.

Lando could tell by the slight squirm of your legs, you were getting impatient down there. Slowly, he trailed down your waist and reached your panties. His own lips quirked at the damp material. Pressing his fingers into your core, he could feel a shudder overcome you.

Lando continued his assault on your lips as he rubbed you through your panties.

You removed your lips in a gasp for air. "Don't tease, Lando," You moaned out, clenching your thighs so it trapped his hand to your pussy.

Lando chuckled. He used his free hand to brush over your swollen lips. God, he wanted those lips around his cock. Maybe tomorrow morning. Or maybe in the shower tonight. Right now, he wanted to focus on you. "Say please. A good girl should always use her manners, no?"

This good girl thing had always infuriated you. It felt childish. But then it paled in comparison to the tingling and blossoming sensation of Lando's fingers rubbing your clit.

But of course, if you were going to be a good girl, you were always going for extra credit.

"Please, Lando. Fuck. I need your fingers. Please. I love the way they fill me up. The way they feel in me. Please."

Lando wanted to grin. But all he could do was groan in response. How could he not reward his dear overachiever?

His fingers pulled down your panties, snatching down the damp material past your legs. A guttural sound of pure sin fell from his mouth as he saw your pussy. It glistened in front of him, almost as if it was flooded. Sliding his fingers down those soaked folds, he watched you writhe under him and whimper.

Lando kept his eyes on you as he pushed two fingers into you slowly. He could feel your core envelope him and welcome him graciously. He watched your back arch once he began thrusting into a pace, feeling your walls clench around his fingers.

"Shit," you moaned, reaching for your breasts to both add even more pleasure and bring some sort of sanity. "Faster, baby. Please."

Lando sped up the pace of his fingers, bringing his thumb to rub your clit. His eyes flickered to your pussy. He licked his lips. You were swollen and engorged. Your puffy lips continuously took him in and it was almost paining his cock that he wasn't inside you yet.

A new intense wave of euphoria settled over you. Your body convulsed with a buzz that provided the almost silent moans from your mouth. "Fuck.... I... I'm gonna come," You moaned out, head falling back as your mind became clouded with pleasure.

Lando's cock throbbed from not being touched. He could do it no longer.

The whine you released when Lando took his fingers out of you almost made him want to put them back in. But instead, with a speed he had never even found in his car, he took off his boxers and hovered over your body.

"I know. I know," Lando murmured, pressing his lips into yours to silence your begging plea.

You placed your own fingers in your mouth, drenching them in your saliva. Removing them, your hand travelled down his waist, brushing past his v-line before circling your hand around his cock. You could feel Lando moan into the kiss, briefly stilling at your touch.

Slowly you rubbed him up and down, dangerously thumbing the slit of his cock. You watched as your saliva lubed him, giving him a unique shine. Your shine.

"Jesus fucking christ," Lando moaned out. He was sure if you kept up like this, he was going to cum in your hands rather than inside you.

"Fuck, as much I love your hands and touch. I need to be in you, baby," Lando sighed, removing your hand from his cock and slowly pressing into your body to slide his cock up and down your pussy.

You moaned at his words, feeling his lips wrap around your nipple once again.

"Stop teasing," You panted. The buzz created by the tip of his cock rubbing your clit was almost paining and torturous.

Lando didn't even mean to tease. But even just feeling your pussy felt like a different type of high. He groaned, pushing the tip of his cock into your swollen lips. A rush of warmth surged through him as he laid in you for a brief moment.

Your pussy was a safe haven. A cocoon made for his cock. This high... this pleasure... he could feel it with no one than you.

You sobbed in ecstasy. Lando was almost bring cruel. You raised your hips, fucking yourself onto your cock.

Lando had to keep himself above you, almost collapsing at your action. He let out a small laugh at your impatience before he started to move in you.

As he thrusted into you, you could feel his cock glide through your folds, reaching those familiar areas of arousal. You clenched your walls around him teasingly, silently urging him to speed.

"Fucking hell," Lando hissed out, speeding up the movement of your hips.

Sweat and arousal doused the both of you as the room was full of your pants and the obscene sound of your skin slapping.

"I'm gonna cum soon, baby," Lando said once you clenched around him once again. This clenching action always drove him overboard. It pulled him in even further into you and pressured his cock to pulse inside of you.

"It's okay. Cum with me," You moaned, bringing him into a sloppy kiss.

Your muffled moans became impossibly higher as Lando rutted into you at a merciless speed. The wave of pleasure and euphoria that had sprawled across the both of you was inexplicable. A transient unearthly state of mind. A paradox of what was holy and unholy.

Your hands had found their way to Lando's back. Your fingernails dug lightly into the smooth skin of his back. You dragged them down as your hips bucked higher in the chase of the climax.

"Fuck! Lando!" You cursed.

Lando could feel his cock twitch and throb inside you. The nails. His name. Your lips. It was any second now. "Fuck. Say my name, Y/N!"

'When your eyes had started to roll, you blinked focusing on the most beautiful boy in front of you. God he was a sight to behold. Blue eyes hooded with lust, lips swollen and puffy... albeit sweaty, but handsome nonetheless. 'When your eyes had started to roll, you blinked focusing on the most beautiful boy in front of you. God he was a sight to behold. Blue eyes hooded with lust, lips swollen and puffy... albeit sweaty, but handsome nonetheless.

"Lando!" You moaned, "I love you so much, Lando! Fuck!"

Your loud groans disturbed the quiet peace of the air as Lando and you felt the wave of euphoria hit you hard, his hips stilled within you. His body shook, warming your walls and folds with an influx of white.

Lando let out a soft moan, chin falling into your shoulder while both your sweaty bodies pressed together. You could still feel Lando's cock within you, giving every last dribble of cum to you.

"I love you, I love you, I love you.," Lando's hoarse voiced mantra made it's way into your ear. He planted a lazy kiss onto your shoulder before turning his body to face the ceiling. "Fuck, I love you so much, Y/N."

You turned on the side of your body, leaning on your hand. Your eyes were weighed with exhaustion but nevertheless you smiled at him. "I guess I should buy more dresses often," You joked.

You could feel Lando's body rumble with a gentle chuckle. His hand reached to move your sweat-ridden hair behind your ears. His blue eyes trailed over your face, in awe of how he had gotten this lucky in his life. The woman he loved so much was right next to him and he hoped forever.

Lando smiled at you, bringing your fingers to kiss them. He briefly thought backed to the small box he had managed to hide away in his closet. Three podiums. He was going to get three podiums and make sure that ring adorned your finger.

"Love, I'll buy all the dresses you want. And I'll take them off for you too."

#f1 x reader #mickyschumacher #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #lando norris smut #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris #formula 1

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helen-with-an-a · 30 days

Text

First Time Crush

Hi. This is from a request that I received a little bit ago - sorry it took a while to get to. I know you asked for a teen!R but I don't feel too comfortable writing for 15/16 yr old teen (especially if it has a romantic component to the story), so just imagine R is 18/19 (adult but still teenager iykwim). I also have tried to be as vague as possible with the description of R's crush so you can tailor it/imagine whoever you want. If your name is Ellie I apologise but I wanted OC to be English and it is literally one of the most common names here. Anyways I hope you like it

Barcelona Femeni x Reader; OC x Reader

Description: R has her first crush

Word Count: 2.1k

Part 1 | Part 2

It was something that had never really bothered you before. No guys or girls had ever caught your eye in that way. But there she was, with high cheekbones and pouty lips, laughing with a few other girls. She looked about your age, and even more importantly, she wore your England jersey. You hadn't been staring at her – that would be weird – but if your gaze just happened to linger on that part of the stands, you couldn't help it, right?

"Oi, earth to Y/N! Get on with it," Lucy nudged you forward, pulling your attention away from the crowd. "What are you looking at, anyway?" she asked, slinging an arm around your shoulders. You cleared your throat and shook your head, trying to banish the pretty girl from your mind. "Nothing, nothing. Just … nothing," you tried to hide your blushing cheeks. Lucy thought she might have an idea about what – or who – had captured your interest so intently, but she let it be. You did have a game to play, after all.

It happened again the next home game you had. She was sitting with your England jersey on, and her hair was twisted into an effortless, messy pile on her head. She caught you staring – not staring per se, just … looking for a bit too long – and she smiled, a shy smirk that stretched into a wide grin, and your eyes widened. Yet, you were unable to look away. You had just won a tough match; it was a 3 – 0 win, with your name on the score sheet, but still – they had put up a fight for you. "Let's go and say hi, shall we?" Pina said, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards where the girl was waiting. "No, Clau, no." You tried to resist, eventually, you managed to break free of her grasp and turned right into Bruna's open arms. "Aw, thanks for the hug, chica. But let's go and see who you've been staring at, yeh," she laughed as you tried to wiggle against her, but it was useless – her arms tightened and guided you towards the stands.

"Hola," Pina said to the group of girls waiting for you. "Soy Claudia," smiled politely at them. "y yo soy Bruna," there was an awkward pause, clearly meant for you to introduce yourself to them. You couldn't move, let alone introduce yourself to this beautiful stranger. "Esta es Y/N." Claudia took pity on you and spoke slowly like you would when encouraging a small child to speak. "Um, hold on, En-encantada de con-conocerte?" One of the girls tried to reply in Spanish. "Do you want us to speak in English?" Pina asked. "Please," she replied gratefully. It was subtle, but they eventually moved a little further away, leaving you standing helplessly on the pitch with the Beautiful Girl in front of you. "Hi, I'm Ellie," She reached her hand out for you to take. You blinked, looking down at her outstretched hand before back to those warm, soft eyes. "H-hi," you managed to squeak out. Clearly, you weren't going to shake her hand, so she awkwardly let it fall. "Great game out there. You played really well," she smiled at you. Your heart spluttered, and your breath hitched. You were going to die because a pretty girl smiled at you. You looked down at your boots, a very obvious blush blooming across your cheeks. The very awkward, one-sided conversation lasted only a few more painful minutes before your coaches called you inside. "It was really nice meeting you, Y/N. Hopefully, I'll see you at the next home game, yeh?" Ellie said before moving off to her friends.

"Oof, that was painful to watch, amiga," Bruna laughed, shoving you lightly and breaking you out of your trance. "Sí, I've never seen anything so … awful," Pina added, dragging you towards the tunnel. Just as you slipped out of sight, you looked back, hoping to catch a final glimpse of Ellie. To your surprise, she was already staring at you. She lifted her hand and waved gently as she caught your eyes before turning back to walk up the steps. "I don't even know what happened. It was like I couldn't breathe, or move, or … do anything!" You looked between the 2 of them. "You, mi amiga, have a crush," Claudia explained at precisely the wrong time. Alexia, Marta, Lucy, Ingrid, Mapi and Patri had just emerged from the physio rooms.

"Estás enamorada?" Mapi asked, slightly too gleefully. Ingrid – recognising the signs of Mapi's excitement – tapped her not-too-gently on the head. "Aye," Mapi exclaimed as she ducked out of the way of any more 'loving taps'. "Pequeña, estás enamorada?" she asked again, an unrecognisable emotion in her voice. "I … I don't know." You were genuinely perplexed. You had never felt like this before "What do you mean, 'you don't know'?" Patri asked exasperatedly. "I don't know," you said again with slightly more anger in your voice. "Well, do you like her or not?" Patri put her hands on her hips and stood in front of you as you sat in your cubby. "I – I don't know. I don't know what I feel." Patri huffed, her arms flinging out in exacerbation. You didn't know what you had done wrong. "Well, cariño, what do you feel when you see her? I'm assuming it's a her." Ingrid asked gently, coming to sit beside you on the bench. "I … I don't know that either," you whispered, ashamed that you didn't understand your own emotions. You were an adult—why couldn't you recognise simple feelings? "That's ok," Alexia said kindly, coming to sit on your other side. "When I first started seeing Olga, I couldn't stop blushing and smiling whenever I thought about her," she paused, allowing you to think about Ellie – you didn't smile, but you definitely felt your cheeks heat up. "And I could hardly function around Ingrid," Mapi said, coming to stand next to Ingrid and caressing her hand across her shoulder. “It's like I didn't know how to be human when she was around me." Ingrid looked up at her, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Not me," Lucy chimed in. "I was cool as a cucumber," that eased the emotion in the room slightly, making everyone laugh. "No, you weren't," Keira and Ona said simultaneously, giving each other a knowing look. "It's ok to not know how you feel," Frido smiled at you from across the room. "About someone or anything else. Not knowing is also an emotion." She winked at you. You nodded sombrely.

Ellie had been dancing through your mind for the past 2 weeks. It was finally another home game, and you were quietly hopeful that you might be able to see her. You couldn't stop thinking about her smile, her warm eyes, her caramel voice. As soon as you stepped onto the pitch, your eyes scanned the crowd, trying to catch sight of the familiar England jersey. Your heart sank a little when you couldn't find her. "Trying to find chica amante, amiga?" Jana asked, smirking at your embarrassed blush—but you didn't stop looking. You really hoped Ellie was here; you wanted to get your name on the score sheet again to impress her. "Cállate," You brushed her off, jogging away to join the older girls for warm-ups.

You still hadn't found Ellie before kick-off, and it was starting to dampen your mood a little. You were no longer quietly radiating excitement, and everyone could tell. "Está bien, penqueña, just because you can't find her doesn't mean she's not here." Irene rubbed your arms as you waited in the tunnel. "Does – does everyone on the team know?" You asked a little dejectedly. "Sí, cariño, todos en el equipo lo saben. Even Jona and the coaching staff." That really didn't help your mood. All of your closest friends knew about your crush; even your boss knew. You wished the ground would swallow you whole.

To say you played poorly would be mean. But you didn't play to your usual standard. You made silly mistakes you never usually made, giving the ball away when your usual passes were precise and accurate. You were unsurprised when your number flashed on the screen, indicating you were being subbed off. You sat down with a huff, Esmee's hand coming to hold yours tightly in hopes of comforting you. Today was most definitely not your day.

When the final whistle went, you tried to bolt straight to the changing rooms, but an immovable Alexia stood in your way. "Ale, por favor. I just want to go have a shower and go to bed. Please." You really were not in the mood to interact with anyone, let alone fans or be anywhere near a camera. "No, penqueña. Vamos a dar una vuelta al estadio, sí?" Her tone left no room for argument. You begrudgingly agreed and let her drag you around, fake smiling and signing things for fans, but it was obvious you didn't really want to be there.

"Vamos, pequeña. Hay alguien que creo que quizás quieras ver." Alexia said as she came to a stop near Ellie's usually stand. "Ale, please. I don't want to-" You started to turn around. "That's a shame" That sweet, silky, soft voice you had memorised cut through your pleas. You spun back around, quickly spotting Ellie, not wearing your England jersey. You felt a slight pang of hurt. That was stupid. It's just a shirt. She doesn't have to wear it. "Do you like my shirt?" Ellie asked, a playful smile teasing her lips. The Barca home jersey was slightly oversized and styled immaculately, tucked into her bra to crop it slightly, exposing a sliver of skin on her torso. You nodded profusely, but no answer was leaving your lips. "De quién es el número que obtuviste?" Alexia stepped in, obviously taking pity on you. "Um … número? Oh, um, number 3." You wore number 3. You blinked and blushed intensely. Alexia nudged you slightly. She sighed and left you alone with Ellie. "You played well," She started. You scoffed. "No, I didn't," You fiddled with your fingers, avoiding her gaze. "Yes, you did. You got an assist. I saw it." She smirked, twisting a loose piece of hair around her fingers and tilting her head. "I let the ball go so many times. I couldn't concentrate." You whispered, wishing the conversation was about anything else. "But you got it back every time, right? It was very impressive," she chuckled quietly at your awkwardness. "Gra-graci, uh, thanks," you stumbled over your words. "You don't do this very often, do you?' Ellie took sympathy on you. You clearly were out of your depth. "Do what?" You finally made eye contact with her. Your breath hitched, and you couldn't decide whether you never wanted to stop looking at them or turn away. "Flirt," she said as if it were obvious. “I've been flirting with you for weeks now," she explained. She was flirting with you? You blinked owlishly at her. "Here," she took the pen out of your hand, reaching for your arm and scrawling on it. It tickled a little, but you couldn't deny you liked having her this close to you … and holding your hand. You studied her as she wrote; her tongue stuck out slightly, and her eyes narrowed as she focused. "That is my number. You better use it. Otherwise, I will be very sad." She grinned cheekily at you. You nodded, cheeks crimson and unable to move. "Good," she said softly. "Now, you better go," she gently squeezed your chin. "Alexia and Ingrid look like they're waiting for you," she nodded behind you. You wanted to turn but couldn't. Not when she was so close to you. She wiggled her eyebrows, pointed at her number on your arm and shouted, "Use it," as she sauntered away.

"El bebe tiene novia," Alexia sang out as you joined them, her hands coming to ruffle your hair and pinch your bright red cheeks. "Ingrid," you whined, burying your face against her arm. "Make her stop." She laughed brightly. "Kjæreste, this is nothing compared to what is waiting for you with the others," Ingrid laughed as you pushed yourself further into her chest, dreading what awaited you in the changing rooms. But the more you thought about it, the less bothered you were.

Because you got the beautiful stranger's number.

I hope you liked it <3<3<3

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its-rach-writes · 13 days

Text

No Goodbyes - Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: When you manage to escape from an unsub, the BAU come to visit you in hospital. Set in season three.

Warnings: mentions of abduction, fluff, little bit of angst, swearing, Spencer being adorable.

A/N: Damn, do I love writing for Spencer Reid! Hope you guys enjoy this and please let me know what you think! Also I forgot to mention that requests are open! I love you all xxx

The darkness crowded around you as the ropes dug into your wrists, you were too weak to try and escape, you were too wounded to survive out in the wild anyway. You weren’t sure how long you had been here for but you were going to die here. The realisation that you were going to die made you gather your last remaining strength, you had a family who loved you, you were going to see them again.

The ropes were easier to escape from than you realised, maybe you had frayed them in the earlier days of your abduction when you were fighting tooth and nail to escape. You felt around in the dark for the door and you gave it a tentative pull when you found it. Whoever had abducted you had left it unlocked, they must have been confident you wouldn’t escape from the ropes.

As soon as you were outside in the fresh air, you ran like the wind. It was pitch black outside but you ran the opposite direction of where you had been kept. It sounded like you were getting close to a road but you couldn’t think too much more on it as your legs gave out and darkness overtook you once more.

You winced as you sat up in the hospital bed, turning your attention away from the TV and looked into the hallway. New people had arrived and they were talking to the cops, you knew what they were talking about, but you wouldn’t budge. A pretty blonde woman caught your eye and she gave you a sweet smile. Your lips twitched but made no further movement as you turned back to the TV.

“Hi,” you heard a soft voice and you turned back to the doorway to see a tall lanky man standing in the doorway, “I’m Spencer,” you knew he was with the cops but his voice was soft and his lips were curved into a kind smile. He didn’t cringe and look away from you when he saw the bloodied bandages.

“Y/N,” you winced and tried to reach your glass of water on the side.

“Let me,” he sat in the chair at your side and lifted the glass.

Your cheeks flushed as you sipped the water from the straw, “thanks, I’m not an invalid, just want you to know that,” you laughed.

He smiled, “oh, I know. I in fact, think you’re really brave.”

You scoffed, “I know what you’re doing by the way. You want me to tell you about my abduction.”

Spencer shook his head, “I’m not going to force you into something you don’t want to do, Y/N. But, I know it’s been a while since you’ve seen a friendly face.”

You sighed and glanced over to the doorway where the cops were listening. Spencer abruptly stood from his seat and closed the door in their faces, which made you laugh.

“They think I’m a stone cold bitch,” the handsome man tilted his head and looked at you questioningly, “women are getting killed and I can’t even talk about what happened.”

“It’s understandable.”

You nodded at him gratefully, unsure how such a sweet man became involved with law enforcement. The silence was interrupted by the loud rumbling of your stomach. You flushed as Spencer burst into laughter.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, running a hand through his hair.

You groaned, “so hungry but this hospital food is shit,” you laughed.

“Do you fancy a burger?” when you nodded he went to speak to the blonde woman who had smiled at you before.

Spencer looked at you with horror as you deconstructed the burger so you could take the pickles off. You glanced up at him when you felt him looking, you smirked as you licked the ketchup from your fingers.

“What?”

“Pickles are the best part and you’re just throwing them away like they’re nothing!” he gasped.

You laughed, “do you want my pickles?”

“Yes,” he replied within a split second and you passed the slimy veggie over to him, wincing when he crunched it between his teeth.

“Ew.”

There came a knock on the door as Spencer laughed, it was the blonde woman, she smiled at you before glancing over at Spencer, “Spence, we’ve got a lead on the case.”

You’d forgotten, you’d forgotten what he did for a job, only just remembering that he was trying to gather intel.

“I um think I’m gonna stay, actually,” he said which surprised you and he glanced over at you, “that okay?”

“Sure,” you nodded.

“Okay,” the woman said, “call us if you need to,” and then she was gone.

“Your team will be one person down.”

Spencer shrugged, “they’ll be fine.”

The only thing that you and Spencer did for the next couple of hours was watch rubbish on TV, every time there was news coverage on the case, Spencer turned it over to another channel. You fiddled with the sheets of the hospital bed as you glanced over at Spencer’s profile.

“I’ve remembered something.”

Spencer glanced over at you, biting his lip, “Y/N, you don’t have to.”

“I want to,” you interrupted him with a sigh, “I don’t know how much help it’s gonna be but I remember the smell of strawberries but only after it rained. And there was this other smell, kind of like vanilla but like flowers at the same time.”

Spencer smiled at you, “this helps,” he quickly called his partner, instructing them to look for farms were strawberries and honeysuckle grew. You didn’t understand most of his words, he said things like ‘unsub’ and ‘comfort zone.”

The hospital kept you in for ‘observation’ which you bought at first but then you overheard the cops talking about your escape. You heard them saying if the abductor had got wind of where you were it was likely he would come and finish you off. Everything made you jumpy after that. Spencer came to see you when he could, bringing takeout and you slowly opened up to him about what happened to you.

It had been about a week when you saw the news broadcast, the man who had abducted you had been caught. He looked so ordinary that it scared you. When the door to your room opened, you glanced over with a smile that dropped a second later.

“I’m Derek, Spencer’s friend,” the stranger told you, showing you his badge and he glanced at the TV, “came here to tell you we caught him but I can see you already know,” he chuckled then sighed at the expression on your face, “he wanted to be here to say goodbye but he had to make sure the man who hurt you was away. For good. For you.”

There was a pain in your chest and you wanted to cry and scream at yourself for being so stupid, “so, I guess you guys are leaving?”

“We are.”

You sighed, scrawling something on a piece of paper and handed it to Derek, “will you give this to Spencer?”

He smiled, he had kind eyes, “you got it.”

You thanked him as he left but you were left with a bitter taste in your mouth. Spencer hadn’t come to say goodbye.

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer #reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #reader insert

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soapsbaby · 8 months

Note

Hi! Can I request silly horny autocorrect texting headcanons with 141 and whoever you wish to add? I couldn't stop laughing at Soap's "baby gorilla" so I hope my request is okay. Thank you! 🧡

Love your request! I couldn't really come up with enough autocorrect headcanons so I made more general texting ones! Hope you enjoy anyway mwah!

Summary: 141 + König silly texting headcanons Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" Mactavish, John Price, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, König all in relation to the reader (some romantic, some friendly) Rating: slightest bit nsfw Word Count: 500ish

Simon

Simon texts you like he hates you all the time. One word answers, no emojis, no anything and then gets confused when you wonder whether he is mad at you.

“Hey love, do you want me to get you something from the store while I’m there? love you!!” “no” “Simon, are you mad at me?” “no” “Promise?” “yes”

He understands your point but he would rather be caught dead than use emojis

You have him saved in your phone with the ghost emoji as his name, he has you saved as your full legal name even though you’ve been dating for years now, just isn’t a big phone guy.

Johnny

He types like he just slams his hand onto the keyboard and hopes for the best and there are more words with typos in his texts than there are ones without. Even autocorrect can’t save this man.

He once, to your horror, told you about this “super cute rubber dick” he found at a store and how he’d bring it home to you so you’d have something to remember him by when he goes on missions. It took about an hour and him sending a picture until you realized he meant to say rubber duck.

He’s been saved in your phone with the little duck emoji next to his name ever since.

Price

Old man texting all of the time. Does not understand memes (but laughs about them to make you happy), does not understand emojis and their meanings or any abbreviations.

Is obsessed with the ability to send you gifs. You ask him a yes or no question? He won’t type it out, he’ll send you a gif of someone giving a thumbs up or of someone shaking their head.

If he gets the chance he will always prefer calling you over just texting.

Gaz

He makes typos all the damn time but god beware you ever mistype a single time because he will mock you for it until eternity. God beware the one time you told him you wanted to grab some food from “Windy’s” instead of “Wendy’s”. Now every time someone suggests to get takeout he’ll have this smug look on his face. “Oh, I think y/n would prefer Windy’s actually”.

Is the type to send you 6 minute voice memos about whatever he has been doing that day, get distracted halfway through and then start the story over.

Has like 7 hours of screen time on days that he isn’t at work. He’s the type to refuse to download tiktok and then scroll instagram reels for hours.

König

He has German autocorrect on and it’s a mess. He can’t type to begin with but the autocorrect makes him borderline incoherent.

He is also a big user of emojis when it comes to texting you, he loves all of the smileys and hearts

“I am ging to the größere Story, do you nieder anything?” “Sorry what?” “Going to the Wal mart do you need any thing?” “No, thanks” “Ok Love you!!! 💕💞💖❤️”

Will send you pictures of everything that reminds him of you "Look at this flowers 😄💕"

#this is so silly i hope you like it #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john price x reader #141 x reader #gaz x reader #könig x reader #cod fanfiction #cod headcanons #konig x reader #call of duty imagine #call of duty x reader #ari writes #cod #anonymous

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 3 months

Note

Hello, hope you're doing alright. I have a pretty twisted one shot request concerning our amazing Shadowsinger. I was looking at the super natural dark dialogue prompts list and I feel like the #24 and #36 would fit perfectly for my request.

So basically: I was thinking about Azriel capturing the reader. She's a spy from the Spring Court and she was on a mission wandering at the border of the Night Court. When the reader wakes up, she's tied up in Azriel torture room. She also realizes how Azriel seems to be drawn to her. As she tries to find a way to make him untie her, she remembers something about Illyrians obssesion with bargains and deals. She offers to make a deal with him that the first one to make the other cum earn a favor. If she wins he spares her life, and if not he can kill her. And like as they conclude the pack, a tattoo appears on both of them and bla bla bla... and she ends up winning this challenge maybe?

Can't wait to see if you'll be willing to write this! I think it would have a lot of potential if written by you. Anyways, keep up your good work. I love your writing.

Okay, I know I said my next release would be the POM bonus bits, and then I’d be working on my other pieces, but I got this request and had immediate inspiration for it, so here it is!

Thank you to whoever sent this in! I hope I did it justice. It was very fun to write! I hope you enjoy 🫶🏻

The prompts you requested to be included in this will be written in bold.

Note: I haven’t tagged anyone in this because I desperately need to sort out my tag lists and haven’t had the chance. I’ll add them later if I get the time. Sorry!

Warnings: Smut! 18+, minors dni. NSFW. Some details of aggressive behaviour. Azriel being a sore ass LOSER.

Lust is a Losing Game — Azriel x Reader.

You can feel the caress of Night before your eyes open.

Every single court you have trespassed and traversed has its own distinct feel. The Autumn Court feels perpetually — and unsurprisingly — like a stroll through a forest, touched by brisk air and hues of oranges, yellows, reds. Your home court — Spring — has a feeling of renewed hope; like the first rays of sun after a long, harsh winter.

The Night Court is blood-drenched, rippling darkness, and the allure of scandal, of want, of lust.

Night time is for secrets and exploration. It’s for burning the bridge between who you are in the daylight and becoming something…else. It’s exciting, and it’s coaxing, and—

Cold, sharp metal prods beneath your chin. Its point is lethal. Any wrong move, and you’re bleeding.

Perhaps even more lethal is the quiet voice that commands, “Eyes open.”

Slowly, you comply — because you are both intrigued and wise. Intrigued by where you went wrong and where you ended up. Wise, because you know that cold, granite voice.

It doesn’t surprise you in the least to open your eyes and find Azriel the shadowsinger stood in front of you, his blade at your throat.

You know of him, of course — spymaster of the Night Court, a rare species of fae, far more powerful than many realise. You’ve sat across from him during terse meetings between courts and been the target of those guarded, icy stares. You’ve never heard him utter more than a few words at a time; he is spoken for by reputation, by violence and threat and battle.

But you’d know that voice anywhere.

You peer up at him through eyes blurred by some sort of power. And when your lips tilt up into a smile, a subtle tick of his jaw tells you it incenses him.

“Hello, Azriel.” You rasp.

The blade presses into your skin as he asks, “What were you doing at the border of our court?”

“Picking wildflowers. Foraging berries. Making a daisy chain. All the things a lady loves to do.”

A quiet noise sounds in his throat. “Is that what you are? A lady?”

“I’m whatever you want me to be, shadowsinger.”

His answering smile is cruel. A harsher press, and his blade nicks your throat. A drop of warm blood blooms on your skin.

Your eyes, rapidly clearing, take quick stock of your surroundings. The room is dark and damp and cold, empty save for the chair on which you sit — to which you are constrained. You can scent the blood of a thousand previous victims of the shadowsinger, and you imagine the vacancy of the space must have been more intimidating to them, somehow, than if the room were filled to the brim with torture instruments. The lack thereof tells anyone who finds themselves here that the Night Court’s spymaster does not need such things to do his work.

You try to shift in the chair, and find yourself well and truly stuck in place. Your gaze drops to your feet, where shadows act as manacles, as firm and strong and steel. Though your hands are restrained around the back of the chair, the cool touch tells you that a shadow binds them, too.

Azriel follows your gaze. A smug smile graces his mouth as he watches you try and fail to move.

“An impressive little trick.” You offer, nodding to the shadows around your ankles. “Now be a gentleman and untie me.”

“Tell me what you were doing at our border, and maybe I will.”

“Tell me your secrets and I’ll tell you mine.”

“You’re not really in the position to barter, right now, are you?”

“And yet, here I am.” You smile. “Bartering.”

He stares down at you, shrouded in shadows, in night. His aloofness has been perfected over centuries, but you somehow know where to look in order to tell — you’re getting on his nerves.

A slight angling of his head. Shifting on his feet. He drags the tip of that blade up, not pressing quite hard enough to draw more blood, but to make a twisted heat enter your veins. The blade stops at your cheek.

“I don’t know how you do things in the Spring Court.” His breath caresses your face. “But I can’t imagine it’s part of your job description to be a smartass who can’t keep her mouth shut.”

Your eyes flick down to that blade. Back up to his gaze. “I can’t imagine it’s part of yours to lust over me so tirelessly.”

The shadowsinger actually falters.

Something tells you he would never do that in front of somebody else.

His teeth grit. He bites out, “Tell me why the fuck you were at the border—”

“I’ve seen you, you know.” A satisfied smirk curls your lips. You will not give away that your arms and legs are beginning to ache. “I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at me for years.”

A clatter bounces off the walls as he tosses his dagger to the floor. Can’t be one that means much to him, then. You almost laugh, but a scarred hand is gripping your chin to the point of pain. He tilts — yanks — your chin up. “Pray, tell, how do I look at you?”

“With hunger.”

“Hatred.”

“Lust.”

“Loathing.”

“Like you want to touch me.”

“I am going,” he snarls, “to wrap my hands around your throat and—”

“Fuck me?”

“Kill you.”

A mocking pout puckers your lips. “Less sexy.”

"You must be a fool," his fingers bite into your skin, "to laugh in the face of such danger."

"What danger would that be? You've handed me your threats. What are you waiting for, Azriel? Kill me."

He could easily retrieve his blade and gut you then and there. You know it. He knows it.

And yet he doesn't do it.

He clenches his jaw so hard that you hear his teeth clash. He squeezes your chin, calluses and scars grazing you. It feels...good.

But then a growl is ripping from deep within his chest, and he's tearing his hand away and pivoting on the spot. He's confident enough in the shadow bindings to turn his back to you, clearly.

You just smile. He can't do it. Can't kill you.

"I'll do you the courtesy of asking one last time." His voice is strained. "Why were you snooping around our border."

"Perhaps I was hoping you'd find me and tie me to a chair. I'm into that kind of stuff, you know. We could make this fun."

"You think this room is intended for fun?"

"I think you and I could have fun anywhere, shadowsinger."

He says nothing. You watch as he sucks in a deep breath, steels himself. By his command, a shadow dances out and retrieves his blade from the floor. His fist flexes at his side.

Perhaps you can irritate him enough that he'll either kill you or let you leave out of pure exasperation. Or turn on the tears and plead innocence, that you're just a foolish, foolish girl doing her High Lord's bidding.

Or perhaps you can have fun.

You scan your brain for what you know about this court. How you can use it to your advantage — use Azriel to your advantage. An idea knits itself in the twisted avenues of your mind.

"This court has a thing for bargains, does it not?" You watch Azriel's shoulders tense at the sound of your voice. "How about making a bargain with me?"

He chokes on a scoff. "Why would I want to make a bargain with you?"

"Because you want me."

Slowly, he turns. His eyes are narrowed, mouth pinched. He looks two seconds away from using that blade to wipe your head clean from your neck.

But then he smiles, cruelly and coldly. "How very sure of yourself you sound."

You mimic that smile. "I am." Damn right you are. "So here is my deal: you toy with that lust however you like. We tease each other. Coax reactions from each other."

"Where is the bargain in that?" No outright refusal.

"If I make you cum first, shadowsinger," your eyes fall to his breeches. You could swear you glimpse the outline of a bulge. "If I make you cum first, I get to walk out of here with my head still attached to my body. But if you make me cum first...well. You get to know why I was snooping around the Night Court border, and you can send my head back to my High Lord in a pretty little box."

He stares at you for what feels like so, so long. Head to toe, his eyes rake over you. His shadows whisper in his ears, things you don't need nor care to hear.

Because you might not have his shadows, but you are a spy, just as he is. And you know his mind is already made up.

Shadowsinger, spymaster, feared member of the infamous Night Court — but still, a male weakened by lust. Lust for you that has driven him mad for a long, long time.

Still, he tries to keep up a front. He sneers at you, "You'd so willingly barter away your life?"

You smile. Simply, prettily. "It turns me on."

Oh, he's lost to his need. There's a newer scent that has joined the present ones of cedar and night-chilled mist and bloodstains. This one is deeper, smokier. Spicier.

He points his blade at you, the tip glimmering. And the shadow binds fall away as he demands, "Undress."

Your hands fall back to your sides. "Are you saying you agree to my terms?"

"Yes. Now take. Your fucking. Clothes off."

"What way is that to talk to a lady?"

"You are no lady—" His words fall short as, with a snap of your fingers, your clothes disappear. Leave you in nothing but your undergarments. His eyes drink in the brassiere, the silky little fabric that hangs from your hips. He swallows. "And I am no gentleman."

A spy you may be — someone who throws themself into danger and risk and dirt and blood, time and time again. But you never see a reason not to wear pretty underwear while doing so. And gods, in this moment, you're very glad of that choice.

It's the same colour as the siphons that adorn the male before you. The coldness in Azriel's eyes is replaced by intense, raw heat. He takes a step towards you, but you kick out a leg.

"Your turn." You say.

He pauses. Chucks his dagger aside again.

And then his clothes are gone.

He doesn't seem the slightest bit fazed by the fact that he stands utterly naked before you. So much golden, sculpted skin on show. All over, white scars tell the stories of previous injuries. His body is a novel written over time.

That silky underwear of yours is already soaked as you take your fill of him. For a moment, you think you might stumble in your bravado. He's huge and hard and standing to attention. Utterly perfect.

But you sit up straight in the chair and plant your hands on the arms. Your legs part, and Azriel hungrily tracks the movement.

"There is only one rule." You tell him. "We don't want to make this too easy, after all."

His jaw flexes. Eyes don't stray from the growing damp patch between your thighs. "What's the rule."

"You can touch me. You can lick me. You can put your cock in my mouth and my hand and rub it against my skin. But you can't fuck me."

He starts, pupils blowing wide. "But—"

"Not today." Your lips curl up. "But if I win, and I walk out of here? Some other time, Azriel, you can fuck me."

"You are wicked."

"Do you accept my rule?"

"Yes."

You are wicked, indeed. You widen that gap between your legs until you're hooking them over the arms of the chair. Baring your silk-covered cunt to him. His eyes damn near roll into the back of his head at the sight.

"Do you think you can stand to touch me without fucking me?" You hum, your fingers dancing down to that, sweet, sweet spot. You run them over the dampness, biting your lip. "I don't think you can."

"You underestimate me." Azriel growls. "And you're going to cum first."

There is no opportunity for you to volley a response. Not as Azriel surges forward and yanks you out of the chair, his arms securing you. His firm, velvety cock presses against your stomach. His lips slide over yours in a harsh, bruising kiss.

A male of natural elegance and grace, he doesn't even falter in the kiss or his steps as he marches you back, back, until you're pressed up against a cold wall. You nip his bottom lip and reach between your bodies, wanting to feel the pulsing weight of his cock in your palm, but his hands are grabbing your wrists and holding them above your head.

"No hands." He snarls onto your lips. "Just my cock and your cunt. Whoever cums first is the loser."

You almost want to laugh. So, so easy this will be.

But then he's letting go of your hands and pinning you with a knee. And out of fucking nowhere, a slim bottle appears between his fingers. You watch, leaning against the cold surface of the wall, as he pulls the stopper out of the bottle and tilts it towards you.

Oil drips onto your chest. Rolls down your breasts, your stomach. Azriel watches with predatory focus as it floods to where he wants it — soaking your underwear.

The blue silk darkens, sticks to your skin. Showcases everything that Azriel so desperately wants, but everything he will not get — today.

And then so quickly, he's hoisting your leg at his hip. So quickly, his cock is pressing into your soaking undergarments.

He positions his length between your thighs and guides it through your clothed folds. Both of you let out an immediate gasp at the taunting sensation — that a mere bit of fabric separates you from what you both want.

"Is this how you're going to play it?" Your head falls back, teeth digging into your lower lip. "You think thrusting through my clothes is going to stop you from cumming?"

"No." He makes a small noise, slowly rolling his hips. Watches his glistening cock rubbing against the silk. "But I think I'm going to make you cum fast from it."

"And then you get to kill me."

"And then," the head of his cock nudges your clit, "I get to kill you."

The sensation is divine, you can’t deny it. A coiled, aching pleasure that sits tightly in your lower belly. Azriel hears your intake of breath, and he smiles like this will be easy for him. You’re having none of that.

You’re thankful for your refined stealth and balance as you clamp your leg tighter around him, pull him harder against you. His hands press flat against the wall either side of your head, and you both gasp as his cock rubs so torturously against you, up and down and up and down.

“Gods,” He grunts, dipping down to brush his lips against yours. “This is torture.”

You smile. “Does it feel good?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to remove my underwear? You still can’t fuck me, though.”

A suffering groan chokes out of him, and he throws his head back. Because yes, he fucking wants you to remove your underwear. Yes, he wants to feel his bare skin rubbing against your bare skin.

But gods, the temptation to slide his cock into you is going to be unbearable.

But even though he knows that, and you know that, he smiles like this is nothing. He bites out, pleasure wavering his voice, “Why not? It’ll only make you lose.”

“I think you’re giving yourself a little too much credit.” You say, and then your underwear is gone, leaving you naked and dripping with nothing to shield you.

Not expecting it so fast, Azriel’s cock slides easily through your folds — and the head nudges your entrance. Very nearly slips in. He growls and halts the roll of his hips.

“Oops.” You smirk. “Careful, shadowsinger.”

“You’re fucking insufferable.” He bites back, and then he’s kissing you.

The kiss robs you of breath and of words. All you can do is twine your arms around his neck and welcome the sensation of him fucking through your folds, your wetness his pleasure. You’re lost to the feeling of him bumping against your clit, rubbing against it. Your legs are beginning to tremble.

“I want to fuck you.” Azriel moans, dropping his head to take in the sight of his cock against your pussy, never entering, never going deeper.

“I know.” Your fingernails dig into his shoulders. “And you have wanted to for a very long time.”

“Yes.” He can’t even deny it. “Yes.”

“You think about me.”

“Yes.”

“You wonder what it’s like to be inside me.”

“Yes.”

“But not today.” Your hands stroke down his muscled arms, and you moan as he grinds his cock against your clit. “Not today.”

“Nor any other day.” His hand fists in your hair, yanking your head up. “Because I will have your head. Cum for me, lady.”

He kisses you again, and gods, you want to cum. Every single inch of you begs and trembles for it. You’re clenching around nothing, desperate to feel him inside you, fucking into you, spilling into you—

But through your pleasured haze, you remember: you will be victorious. Azriel cannot win.

And so when he’s kissing you and kissing you, moans catching in his throat and landing in your mouth, hips faltering with every thrust, you pull your lips from his and sink your teeth into his neck with a harsh bite. You’ve always imagined he’d like that.

And simultaneously, you lock him between your thighs and roll your hips torturously slow, dragging every last sensation from him.

Azriel’s cock, nestled snugly between the folds of your cunt, spasms and twitches. He slams his hands against the wall and goes still. Tries to pull back the control.

But it’s too late for that.

“Fuck!” He shouts, and then ropes of cum are spurting out of him and landing on your stomach, your breasts, your arms. Beads of it roll down his cock. He trembles hard, panting, groaning, growling.

And you suck harshly at his neck. Suck until it leaves a mark. And then pull away with a smile.

Breathing so, so heavily, Azriel’s gaze drops down to his cock like the damn thing has betrayed him. He’s wide-eyed and outraged. He’s not sure what’s just happened.

A horrid longing still aches between your legs and makes you want to continue until you’re exploding, too. But the triumph of a win is pleasure in itself.

“Well, well, well.” You glance down at the cum now coating your skin. “I do believe I was right.”

“What—” Azriel breathes, shaking out of his lust. “What kind of witchcraft was that?” He touches his neck, where you bit him. As though the answer lies there.”

You shrug. “No witchcraft, though I’m flattered you think so. You simply lost the game.”

“I. Don’t. Lose.”

“You just did.” You pat his shoulder. “There, there.”

He rips away, so fast that you almost fall. “Get the fuck away from me.”

“Gladly.” With a snap of your fingers, you’re squeaky clean and clothed once more. Azriel’s clothes return, too. “And I’ll do so with my pretty head still on my shoulders—

“Get out.”

“Because I won the game—”

“Get. Out.”

“A bargain’s a bargain, after all—”

“I will not tell you again.” His hand grabs the back of your neck, hard enough to bruise, and he marches you to the door, yanking it open. “Out.”

You’re thrown into a dim-lit hallway, your body colliding with a cold brick wall. You throw Azriel a smile over your shoulder, despite your teeth singing at the impact.

“Try not to wank over me too much!” You call, as he slams the door shut behind him. “See you around!”

It’s only once you’ve winnowed back to your own court, and you’re bathing the day from your skin, that you notice the small black band inked into your upper arm. You scrub at it until it’s red raw. It doesn’t budge.

The mark of a bargain. But you had always believed that the tattoos of bargains disappeared once the terms were fulfilled…

But if I win, and I walk out of here? Some other time, Azriel, you can fuck me…

It had all been bravado. And yet…it had unwittingly been woven into the bargain.

Some other time, Azriel, you can fuck me.

That’s the only way you’re getting that mark off your skin.

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morallygreyyn · 5 months

Note

Can i pls get some clingy ass illumi x reader who hasn’t seen them in days because of his missions?

Have a nice day!! Make sure to drink water💓

miss me? (illumi zoldyck x reader)

description: illumi has been gone for a week and when he returns, he seems slightly off. it didn't take you long to realise that he wanted attention, namely yours...

authors note: another super old ask but i love this one with all my heart and soul. illumi? stunning. clingy illumi? immaculate. seriously there is nothing i love more than illumi so this is how i think he would be when he's clingy and wants attention! have a lovely day anon and i really hope you drink lots of water! (seriously i've just found out how important this is so pls everyone drink lots of water to flush out that bacteria) 💗

warnings: none

word count: 1.1k

requests are open! please read my rules!

You hadn’t seen Illumi Zoldyck for the better part of a week. While you were used to the assassin leaving often for work, usually you were in a position to follow him. This time, however, was one of the rare occasions where you had to stay home at your apartment, all for that blasted electrician who kept cancelling on you. If he called you one more time to cancel, while you stayed home when you could have followed your boyfriend to a sunny location that you would have treated like a holiday, you swore you would hire the Zoldyck yourself to track him down.

As though he had heard your silent threat, the electrician came and went, and your kitchen appliances were once again fully operational. Happy that you could finally restock the fridge, you left to get groceries. You couldn’t admit this out loud, but your apartment often felt too empty without the assassin occupying it too. While he didn’t own the space where you lived, he stayed there often enough that he may as well share it with you.

It had surprised you when you brought up the offer of living together and he didn’t reject the idea immediately. Illumi actually seemed contemplative, as though it was almost a pleasant thought. That was what you assumed anyway, you could never truly tell what he was thinking most of the time.

By the time you returned home, you knew something was different immediately. For one, you were certain that you had locked the door. Cautiously stepping into the apartment, you coiled and prepared to strike whatever or whoever was lurking. Despite not being an assassin, you were still a qualified Hunter, and those licences did not come easy.

It turns out that you needn't have bothered as, when you approached the living area, Illumi was sitting calmly at your kitchen island watching you.

“Oh, Illumi!” Setting down your bags, you ran to him, throwing your arms around your boyfriend as you held him tightly. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?”

“No signal.” He said simply as he let you hug him, hands gingerly settling around you. You had to fight tooth and nail for him to learn how to hug properly, and even now he still hadn’t quite managed to perfect the act. Despite this, he still tried, and that was good enough for you.

Pulling away, you looked at him with a smile. “How was it?”

He shrugged, a clear sign he was disinterested in the topic. “Simple.”

Nodding, you stepped back to put the groceries away, not wanting them to rot on the floor. Illumi sat back down, fathomless eyes locked on you while you completed the task you had set for yourself. You liked to think that you knew the Zoldyck rather well, and that included when something was bothering him.

Turning around, you raised an eyebrow as you met his gaze. “What?”

“What?”

“You’re staring at me.”

“Why are you pointing that out?”

“Because I’m wondering why.”

“I stare at you a lot.” He stated, tone very matter of factly.

“I know, but now it seems different.”

“It isn’t.”

“If you say so, darling.” You rolled your eyes and finished putting the food away. Once you had, you turned to face your boyfriend once more, looking for an explanation.

“You forgot something.” Illumi said, and while his voice was the usual light and expressionless one, his eyes still bore into yours.

Looking around, you couldn’t see anything out of place, and you had certainly left nothing on the counters. “What did I forget?”

Illumi didn’t answer, only continued to look at you expectedly. Now you were really confused, and slightly unnerved by his odd behaviour. Illumi rarely acted like this.

With no answer to give you clarity, you grinned in feigned annoyance, kissed his cheek and whispered you were happy to have him back before you left to head into the room you used as an at home office.

Sitting down at your desk and opening your files, you stared blankly at the screen while you mentally observed Illumi’s behaviour. There was something amiss, and you couldn’t put your finger on what. He wasn’t usually the expressive one; well, he was never the expressive one. All physical, verbal, and emotional affection fell on your shoulders to deliver. While this may seem one sided to most, you didn’t mind as you knew Illumi was not able to express much by way of love. Despite this, you knew he loved you, in his own way. He had threatened to kill the electrician for you when you complained about the situation to him, and that spoke millions. Not only that, but he also allowed you to be as affectionate as you are with him, and he accepted it whereas anyone else wouldn’t have a chance in hell of even approaching him, let alone the things you did together.

What was bothering him?

Just then, you saw a shadow move in your peripheral vision, and your heart dropped to your ass. “Fucking hell, Illumi! At least knock!”

He ignored your outburst. “What are you doing?”

“Working.” You said as you willed your heart to calm down.

“Oh.” Illumi stayed standing behind you, hovering ominously.

Then it clicked, Illumi was being clingy. This was how he acted when he wanted attention. Unable to control yourself, you laughed loudly at the realisation.

“What?” He asked, watching you stand from your seat to face him.

Your smile was incredibly smug as you approached, wrapping your hands around his waist. “Did somebody miss me?”

Naturally, he didn’t respond and it might’ve been your imagination, but he seemed to relax under your touch.

“I think I know what I’ve forgotten.” You captured your lips with his own, smiling as you did so. It was moments like this that made you realise that Illumi did in fact love you, and that he was quite attached to you. Even if he didn’t show it much, his hands resting on you, the slide of his lips against your own, the way he seemed unwilling to let you go spoke for him.You pulled away for a moment, bringing a hand up to caress his cheek. You had the Illumi Zoldyck as your lover, and no matter what anyone said, he loved you. “Miss me?”

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babyleostuff · 7 months

Text

roses and dahlias | choi seungcheol

summary | [requested by: @lifeisnotajuunice] the reader being a florist and friends with dk, so one day he brings the whole team to meet reader at their shop and scoups is instantly drawn in by them

genre | fluff

pairing | idol!seungcheol x florist!reader

word count | 2.2k

author's note | while writing this i've realized how little i know about flowers (i literally have no idea how half of these flowers are called in my native language)

Taking a last look at the bouquet you were holding, you hummed in approval, weaving in some final pieces of baby breath to add a soft touch that would stand out in comparison to the crimson red roses and gerbera daisies. “Whoever this bouquet is meant for must be a very lucky person,” you thought, gently putting the flowers in a vase and placing it next to the eight others that were supposed to be picked up in the afternoon.

“They are for your friend, right?” Nodding at your colleague, you wiped your hands on the apron you got from said friend, looking one last time at the bouquet, which now looked even prettier as it stood on the sunlit windowsill. “They are having some sort of party for the whole team, and they ordered nine compositions for the staff,” you explained, looking over at your co-worker.

“They look great, I’m sure they’ll love it.”

“To be honest, I don’t think they know much about flowers, so anything will be good for them,” you laughed, remembering how Seokmin gave you peonies thinking they were roses. You spent the next ten minutes explaining the differences between those two, surely boring your best friend to death.

In his defence, they are kind of similar.

“Will he pick up all of this by himself?”

“Oh, no, he and some of his bandmates are coming later in the afternoon,” you said, nervously chewing on your bottom lip. The fact that most of them would be coming over in a couple of hours, made you feel a lot more anxious than it should.

You and Seokmin have known each other for so many years now, yet you’ve never met all of his friends properly. But there was one specific person that you were the most nervous to meet.

Choi Seungcheol.

You always brushed it off as a silly little crush on a guy you’ve never even met, because no matter how delusional his fancams made you, that was the reality. The biggest interaction you’ve had was liking his Instagram photo, which you immediately regretted, and it’s not like he would pay much attention to you anyways. Still, you could feel your chest tighten at the thought of him actually meeting him.

The rest of the day was busy as always. You helped the customers with picking flowers, making sure to put your heart into every bouquet you made. You’ve always wondered what history would each of these bouquets hold after leaving your shop - because to you, it was merely a job to put together a beautiful piece, but for the receiving person, the flowers meant so much more than that.

Soon, the sun was setting, and people were rushing home to their loved ones, streets busy and loud. You proudly looked at the final order you put together, rolling your shoulders, hoping it would release some tension that accumulated throughout the day.

“We’re here,” suddenly a loud voice pulled you out of your thoughts, startling you a bit in the process. You quickly put away all of the sharp tools that could harm you by accident. “And who would that be?” you joked, not bothered to check who's just entered.

Two strong arms wrapped around your shoulders, and your back met a familiar chest.

“You weren’t at the concert last week,” Seokmin pouted, when you turned around to face him. “Well, I have my responsibilities you know,” you laughed at his disappointed expression. “Besides, I wasn’t able to buy the tickets.”

“You know you could’ve just called me,” he said, realising you from the hug, “I know, I know.”

That’s when you noticed a group of other people watching you. And not just any people.

“Right, I don’t think you’ve properly met before,” Seokmin said, putting an arm around your shoulder. “These are the only ones that bothered to help me, so they’re the best,” he said proudly, looking at his friends.

“Don’t let Soonyoung hear this, or he’ll get mad,” said Seungkwan, you believed. You also recognised the tallest, and the one with glasses next to him - Mingyu and Wonwoo. “And that’s Joshua, Chan and Seungcheol,” your friend pointed at the blond man standing furthest away from you.

You waved your hand at them awkwardly, clutching the cloth you were cleaning with tightly in your hand. They all seemed extremely nice, nothing but smiles on their faces, yet it was quite underwhelming meeting them all at once.

And it wasn’t even the whole band.

As your gaze drifted back to Seungcheol, the realisation that he was actually real hit you slowly, like - he really was standing right in front of you. And he was as perfect as a person could be.

“Don’t worry, we’ll just grab the flowers and leave,” he said, nodding in the direction of the bouquets. “Oh,” you managed to get out, trying not to sound disappointed, because of course, why would they stay any longer than needed. They were here only for the flowers.

You pointed at the windowsill where all of the vases were.

“You did them all by yourself?” Mingyu asked, his eyes wide with interest. “Yes, it’s all me,” you smiled at his fascinated gaze. It always made you feel so appreciated whenever people reacted that way at your work. It only assured you that you were great at what you were doing.

“Can I take a picture of them?” you nodded, giggling at how excited he seemed. “We’ll be here forever if he starts taking photos,” Wonwoo sighed, sliding his glasses further up his nose.

“But it really is a nice place,” Joshua said, patting Wonwoo on the shoulder. “Do you mind if we take some pictures?” he asked. Honestly speaking, even if you wanted to say “no”, you wouldn’t be able to. He looked so genuinely polite and nice.

You went back behind the counter to give the boys some freedom, yet your gaze couldn’t help but wonder toward Seungcheol. He was posing in front of a bunch of tulips and orchids, his blond hair standing out amongst the violet and burgundy flowers, making him look almost ethereal, as the setting sun was illuminating his face.

Seriously, you had to stop ogling him, even though you were sure he’d already noticed how you were staring at him. You caught him looking at you a couple of times in the span of the last ten minutes, but that couldn’t be true, it was silly for you to even think so.

The boys, on the other hand, looked like they had genuinely a lot of fun, trying to guess the different flowers’ names, and doing the silliest poses in front of the camera.

Busying yourself with cleaning, you searched around for the little stool you always used to reach the higher shelves, but it was nowhere to be seen. It’s almost like it magically disappeared when you needed it the most.

Giving up, you sighed, and got up on your tippy toes to put back all of the equipment. What you didn’t quite think about was the fact that the floral branch cutter was a lot heavier than you expected. You yelped in surprise when it suddenly started slipping out of your hands.

Right as you closed your eyes and prepared yourself to get your foot smashed by it, you felt a warm hand on your lower back, and another one holding the cutter, grabbing your own hand in the process. You slowly opened your eyes, just to be met with Seungcheol’s face.

“Are you okay?” He sounded worried, concern written all over his face. “Yes, I’m okay,” you said, although you were sure it came out more like a whisper. “It was too heavy, and it kind of slipped out.”

God, did you really have to embarrass yourself like that now?

“Are you sure everything is alright?” He asked again, as if he didn’t believe your words. You nodded, letting go of the cutter, as he reached for the shelf with ease. “Let me help you with the rest,” he said, looking at the rest of your stuff that was laying on the countertop.

“Why didn’t you ask for help, you could’ve gotten hurt,” he scolded you, his eyes looking straight into yours.

You didn’t know what to say. Why was he being so protective of you?

“Shut it, he’s just being nice,” you thought, brushing off the warm feeling settling in your stomach.

“I didn’t mean to sound rude before,” he suddenly said, fidgeting with his fingers. “I just didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable because of us. We’re kind of a lot,” he laughed, running a hand through his gorgeous hair.

His eyes had a certain softness to them, looking at you like you were something precious to him. But he looked at his members the same way, so it surely didn’t mean anything.

“It’s okay,” you managed to hold your voice steady. “I’m happy you got to take some photos. It looks like you’re having fun,” you smiled at him, trying to memorise every detail of his face before he’d be gone - his golden brown eyes, the way his long black eyelashes would flutter, and his smile, that made your knees weak.

“We do. It’s nice to do something like this after work,” he said, placing the last cutter on the shelf. “Is there anything else I could help you with?”

You looked around the shop. “No, I think that was it.”

“Okay,” it didn’t go unnoticed by you how he sounded almost upset. “I guess I’ll get back to the boys.”

It was impossible for you to know that Seungcheol was freaking out about this even more than you were.

He has seen you a couple of times before, when you were visiting Seokmin in the practice room, or at the backstage after a concert, yet he has never gotten a proper chance to talk to you, and introduce himself.

And Seungcheol was dying to do so.

He didn’t know when this crush started, probably around the time he noticed how his heart would beat a bit faster whenever he’d hear you laugh.

“I just wanted to say that all of the bouquets are amazing,” he said, the moment you came to terms with the fact that this was the end of your conversation. “They’re really beautiful.”

“Oh, thank you. I hope your staff members will love them as well.”

“I’m sure they will,” Seungcheol said. “Who’s this one for?” he asked, pointing at the garden roses and dahlias. “It’s for a wedding.”

“It’s roses and?” “Dahlias. My favourite,” you said, staring at the flowers.

“Coups, could you come here for a second?” All of a sudden, Joshua’s voice echoed through the shop, making you eternally cry, because you knew that if Seunghceol would leave now, you’d never get to talk again.

“Um, I guess I’ll see what he wants,” and with that Seungcheol walked away, leaving you disappointed and frustrated.

“Someone here has got a little crush,” Mingyu approached you right after Seungcheol left, with a smirk on his face and a weirdly suspicious expression. “What do you mean? We were just talking,” you tried to sound as nonchalant as you could, because there is no way he could know about your crush.

“I have never seen him so smiley and giggly with anyone he has just met before. His eyes are basically heart shaped when he looks at you,” he said, leaning on the counter next to you, his smirk only widening. “Besides, he kept looking in your direction all the time.”

A “what?” slipped past your mouth, making Mingyu laugh. “Well, it looks like he’s not the only one who’s a bit in love,” you smacked him on his shoulder. “I’m not in love, and neither is he.”

“Sure. Let’s get back to that when you’re at HYBE visiting your boyfriend,” he winked and walked away, leaving you stunned and speechless.

“Okay guys, let’s wrap this up and get the bouquets which we really came here for,” said Seokmin, grabbing the first vase.

“Remember to keep the tulips in full sun and to put the magnolias in water first thing when you get home,” you said, carefully helping them with each bouquet. “Seokmin, don’t hold them so tightly, you’ll break them,” you scolded your friend.

“How come all of the gym rats came to help with something as delicate as flowers,” Seokmin wondered, shifting his grip on the flowers. “I’m not a gym rat,” Joshua said, earning a swat on the shoulder from Seungcheol.

Saying your final goodbyes, each of the boys left with a bouquet, chatting and evidently more happy than you were. You tried to find Seungcheol amongst them, to take one last look, but he was nowhere to be seen.

You hugged Seokmin as he was the last to leave. “Our leader must really like you,” he whispered to you quickly, running away with a laugh before you could reply.

Closing the shop after them, you returned to the counter only to be met with a single dahlia laying there with a piece of paper next to it.

“The flowers are really pretty, but I think you’re the prettiest.”

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @eightlightstar @itza-meee @immabecreepin @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @dkswife

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ixiot-ghostrebel · 4 months

Note

Read that one with Creator!Reader, who favors Nahida. To be honest! I love her. She is the only one who has tried to help Aether find his sister. And I love Aether, and whoever is kind to him automatically gains my favor.

I haven't finished Fontaine story, so I'm not sure about them.

Nahida Lovers Are gonna be having the Party of a lifetime here 👍 I am going to shove a little bit of Aether into this, but it can also be read as Lumine if other ppl want to :)

Nahida's ALWAYS Off the Hook :D

(Warning: Might be OOC!)

You liked Nahida (platonically, don't get other ideas). She was the only archon that was able to find any information on Aether's sister, and was the only one who made many efforts to find any information regarding Lumine.

It was nice and refreshing for once, to see the Famed Traveler finally getting some help in return of their deeds for the nation. You were so stoked, you started cheering and screaming like this was the best victory you've ever witnessed (it might've actually been).

Nahida, after hearing this, felt even more happy than before. I mean, you were kinda just praising her on the spot for something she thought was just...right to do.

Yet you're making a huge deal out of it. Were the other nations...not that helpful? I mean, the way the Traveler just turned down help and all that was proof, but you praising her for something as simple as this for a "thank you"...Nahida is kinda glad she'll be the first to do it.

It also seems you're starting to favor Nahida alongside the Traveler, which she isn't sure how she feels entirely, but she is for sure happy!

The moment you leave, Nahida's smile is a whole lot bigger, and she's basically grinning from ear to ear. It feels like she truly has spread her wings once the cage was opened. She can only hope her flight can make the Almighty Creator continue to smile and cheer.

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: I really have no clue if this is meeting expectations or not, but I do hope y'all like it! Usually these one characters aren't really something I usually come around in my mailbox, so this was definitely practice for the future lol!

I might open up my mailbox again, but only for a day or two (maybe, no promises for the re-open). I still have a lot of other requests lying in my mailbox, but it's good to have experience out here :D

Anyways, I hope this helps with the Nahida Lovers :) Remember, Nahida is platonic when your reading my blog!

Also, if you're the people waiting for The Lost Divine God of Celestia, I might have to disappoint you in saying that I think I might discontinue the series all together. I have been trying to write the fourth part of the series, but I just come out with nothing in the end. It's kinda depressing seeing the draft in my draft box sobbing. I'm so sorry, but I'll see how I feel about it before I make an official announcement on the matter.

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

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bruisedboys · 4 months

Note

Hi, your celly looks so fun! May I please request candy cane with either Finnick or Steve (whoever you're feeling) and face? I feel like you're so good at those moments of quiet intimacy and would love to see what you do with that. Ofc absolutely no worries if not, love you regardless!

(Also sorry if this sent more than once, my laptop died and I wasn't sure if it went through)

mae!! hi my lovely, I went with finnick for this one because I just couldn’t resist hehe. ily and thank u for the request x

join the celebration

prompt: sender turns receiver's face towards them.

finnick odair x fem!reader

“Let me look at you, honey.”

Finnick takes your face in one hand and turns you carefully to face him, your head propped up on two pillows. You’re feeling rather poorly, and his worried doting is a lot to manage, but you can’t deny that you’re really enjoying being looked after by him.

You meet his eyes over a sea of blankets and he grins, all lopsided and stunningly handsome. “There’s my pretty girl,” he says. “How’re you feeling, sweet thing?”

“Okay,” you say weakly. Better now he’s touching you like you’re made of starlight.

“Yeah?” He strokes your cheek. His fingers feel cool on your hot skin. “How’s your throat?”

“Not very good,” you admit. It aches when you swallow and it hurts to talk. It’s no use downplaying how you feel to Finnick. He knows when you’re lying and he’ll get it out of you in the end, anyway.

Finnick hums sympathetically. “I’m sorry, honey.” His fingers dip below your jaw and he presses gently against the side of your neck, presumably checking for swelling. He must find nothing, because he takes his hand back and smiles at you. His palm rests over your chest, warm and heavy. “Would you like me to make you another lemon and honey drink?”

“Yeah, please,” you nod. His hands feel nice on your aching body. You wonder if you can persuade him into cuddling you for the rest of the day. It wouldn’t be very hard to convince him, you think.

Finnick squeezes your shoulder gently. “Can I get you anything else?”

“A hug would be nice,” you suggest, hopeful in your miserable state.

Finnick visibly melts. He’s a mixture of utterly fond and very pitying when he says, “Of course, sweetheart.”

He bends at the waist to scoop you into a warm hug. You let him do most of the work, his arms working around your upper back to lift you very slightly off the mattress and into his chest. He’s warm, and he smells really nice. You bury your nose in the juncture between his shoulder and neck and breathe him in, wheedle your aching arms around his waist. He rubs your back, your skin prickling from his warmth.

“I’m sorry you’re feeling so awful,” he says softly. “Let me get you that drink, and then I’ll hug you all you want, okay?”

He’s so sweet on you. You wonder vaguely if his overbearing sweetness is what made you sick in the first place. You wouldn’t be surprised.

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genshinluvr · 1 year

Text

Burning Desire

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: You and the men are exploring the Chasm to search for the flower dubbed the Scent of Spring. A rare flower that is the last of its kind. While trying to pull the flower from the cracks in the wall, the flower sprays a strange powder all over you. When the flower sprays powder all over you, you end up inhaling a large amount of it.

Note: Welcome to a new smut series by yours truly, me! Thanks to the requester, there is a new smut series where every man gets their own smut fic and the readers get to choose who's starting the smut series and who will be next after the previous character! This request was sent in before the harem had 25 people, therefore I am making it into a new smut series other than Crave. There will be a poll per chapter and whoever gets the most votes will be the one to start off the smut, and whoever is voted the most after that character the started the smut fic (for example: Aether), will be the next chapter. Instead of making the reader drink an aphrodisiac, I decided to have the reader inhale it. Anyway! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: No smut in this part (darn), but there are some implications of sex and masturbation. Reader inhales a large amount of sex pollen/aphrodisiac.

Word Count: 9.2k

Burning Desire "chapters"/routes: [1], [2], [3], [4]

You have recently decided to work for the Adventurer’s Guild! Kind of. The Akademiya and the Adventurer’s Guild decide to team up and let the Akademiya students explore around and take on an adventurer’s task. You are tasked to investigate the Chasm and find a mysterious flower that went extinct thousands of years ago. Rumor has it that there is only one flower that managed to survive the extinction, and you are on a mission to find that flower.

When you informed your twenty-five boyfriends about your task in the Chasm, they were hesitant to let you go to the Chasm. Not because they didn’t trust you but because it’s the Chasm, and many things can go wrong down there. Plus, it’s hard to tell whether the air conditions are safe down there or not. Hence why miners would go into the Chasm with finches in the cage— to test whether the air quality is good down there or not. At least, that’s what you can recall.

“Why the Chasm? Why not somewhere else that isn’t dangerous, like the Chasm?” Aether asks, leaning back in his seat while gazing at you worriedly.

Al Haitham chews on the inside of his cheek, his eyebrows furrowing. “Did they assign you the Chasm?”

You shake your head. “I chose to go to the Chasm! There’s this rare— I’m not sure if I should call it rare— flower in the Chasm. It’s the only flower that managed to survive while its fellow species went extinct. Because botany is what I specialize in, I want to find this flower, bring it back to the Akademiya, and have it studied,” you explain.

“And you want to go to the Chasm alone?” Tighnari asks, staring at you with wide eyes.

You quickly protest, “No, no! I’m not! I was hoping you all would go to the Chasm with me and keep me company!” You say, fiddling with your thumbs.

The corners of Childe’s lips quirk up after hearing your response. Childe gets up from his seat and walks over to you. Childe wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you to his chest, and caresses your face in front of the other men around you two. You and Childe hear collective scoffs and groans from the men.

Childe has a shit-eating grin on his face. “Do you all hear that? My precious snookums wants me to keep them company to the Chasm!” Childe exclaims dramatically, resting his cheek on your head while rocking you back and forth.

“You mean us, Harbinger. [Y/N] wants us to join them in the Chasm while they search for this mysterious flower for their Akademiya research,” Diluc interjects, rolling his eyes.

Childe rolls his eyes and mouths “whatever” to himself while suffocating you in his arms. It wasn’t hard to convince the others to join you in the Chasm while you searched for this flower. And now, here you are, walking through the Chasm with your beloved boyfriends following behind.

Your professors at the Akademiya have been raving about this mysterious flower when you were a new student at the Akademiya. Despite the professors raving about the flower, they were afraid of going to the Chasm to search for the flower, which is a bit ironic because most Akademiya scholars would risk it all for their research and experiments.

The flower is dubbed the “Scent of Spring,” and you’re not entirely sure why the flower is called that when none of these scholars have gotten close enough to the flower to smell it. While the scholars at the Akademiya have some knowledge of the flower, the knowledge did not help you and the men find this flower. You only know what it looks like.

You hold the sketched image of the “Scent of Spring” in your hands. “It looks like an apple blossom! And the colors are supposed to be a gradient of light steel blue and a medium slate blue,” you murmur, stroking your chin.

“It’s dark down here. How are we supposed to find this mysterious flower in a place like this?” Kaveh asks, squinting to search the darkness ahead of you all.

You shrug, following behind Albedo (who has the Lumenstone Adjuvant). “I’m not sure! It should be somewhere in the Chasm, but my professors and the other scholars weren’t clear on where the flower can be found,” you sigh.

“Sounds like they don’t know what they’re talking about. What if they led you on a goose chase, and they’re watching our every move to get what they wanted?” Cyno asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

Oh, dear archons. You sure hope the Akademiya scholars aren’t leading you on a wild goose chase. This is part of your assignment and research project. You will be disappointed if you go through all that trouble just to find out the flower doesn’t exist or the scholars already have it.

Albedo hums thoughtfully, shining the Lumenstone Adjuvant in another direction in the cave. “I don’t think a couple of scholars are capable of doing that. But if they attempt to do that, we won’t let it happen,” Albedo murmurs.

“How does a flower thrive in an environment like the Chasm? It’s underground, away from sunlight. There’s no way a flower can survive without sunlight,” Scaramouche interjects, kicking a pebble across the cave.

“Well, there are plenty of plants that can grow without sunlight, Scaramouche. I find it strange that a flower can survive in an environment like the Chasm. We can barely breathe in some areas of the Chasm,” you mutter, propping your hands on your hips before looking back at the sketched image of the flower.

The area all of you are in is dark and wet. It’s disgusting, but the air is breathable compared to other areas of the Chasm you all explored a while ago. It’s kind of a win. The sound of water dripping from the ceiling in the cave is all you can hear. As you and the twenty-five men continue to walk further into the cave, the sound of the waterfall running gradually becomes louder.

Venti points forward. “Maybe the flower survived in the Chasm because of this stream that is connected to the waterfall!” Venti theorizes, skipping ahead of the group.

You stop in your tracks and think about what Venti had just said. He’s not wrong. While the air in the Chasm is unbreathable in some areas, there is a source of running water in the Chasm that could be keeping the flower alive. You and the men progress into the cave, the waterfall getting louder and louder the more you all approach the end of the cave.

“Are there any other descriptions given about the flower other than its color? Does it glow in the dark? Is there a strong scent?” Heizou trails off, looking around the cave to search for the flower.

You shake your head. “My professors didn’t give me any further details about the flower other than it being dubbed the Scent of Spring,” you say dramatically.

“And what does the scent of spring supposed to smell like? Spring?” Itto asks, making a “pfft” sound and walking over to where you stand and props his arm on your head, using you as a personal stand.

You shrug your shoulders and move Itto’s arm off your head. “That, I do not know! However, I think that means we should start sniffing flowers,” you say, pulling out your flashlight and begin searching for this rare flower your professors and the scholars in the botany department have been raving about for who knows how long.

You believe once you have given the scholars the flower, they will try to find a way to bring back the population of the extinct flower. Though, you wonder if they will continue to revive their population if the flower ends up being dangerous to inhale or be around. Now that you think about it, there are dangerous plants throughout Teyvat that are used for experiments to create new medicine or cure for diseases.

“Once you find the flower, what are you going to do with it?” Ayato asks, his eyes landing on the giant mushroom in the Chasm.

The giant mushroom in the Chasm illuminated the area. You shine the flashlight around, hoping to catch a glimpse of the flower the Akademiya scholars have been talking about nonstop. You hum and prop your hand on your hip, thinking about what you will be doing with the flower once you find it.

“I’m going to give it to the Akademiya, but I want Albedo and the others to get some research done on it. It wouldn’t be fair if I find something rare and immediately hand it off to the scholars at the Akademiya,” you say.

Dottore smiles and throws his arms around your shoulders. “It’s sweet how you’re putting us ahead of the scholars,” Dottore coos, pinching your cheek with a cheeky grin on his face.

“Since this is for [Y/N]’s assignment, let’s not distract them any more than we already are. They need to focus and find the flower,” says Baizhu, crossing his arms over his chest.

You mouthed a “thank you” to Baizhu before proceeding on your search for the flower. Everyone is scattered around the cave, searching for the Scent of Spring. You’re not sure why it's dubbed the Scent of Spring because surely the people would have known what it smells like if they come across it. But because the flower is in the Chasm and no one has gone near it, you find it hard to believe that the flower smells like spring. Plus, what does spring smell like other than flowers? Every flower has its own unique scent.

After searching for about fifteen minutes, you see a medium-sized flower between the cracks in the wall. The flower is sticking out, and it’s shaped like an apple blossom and has the same color gradient that was written down on the piece of paper in your hand. The sound of your gasp alerted the men, and they all ran toward where you were standing.

Kaeya points at the flower. “Is that the flower you’ve been searching for?” Kaeya asks, inspecting the flower from a safe distance.

You nod slowly. “I believe it is! It’s shaped like an apple blossom, it has the same color gradient written on the paper, and it’s the only flower in this area,” you murmur, reaching forward and touching the petals. “It’s really soft, too,” you add.

“Now that we found it, how should we extract the flower from the area without damaging it?” Asks Thoma, tilting his head to the side and scanning the flower in front of you.

You pull a glass case from your bag and place it on the ground, putting on rubber gloves and preparing to take the flower out from where it’s residing. There’s no guarantee you’ll be able to pull the Scent of Spring out of the cracks without damaging it. It’ll be ironic if it dies the minute you pull it out from the cracks, even though it survived for thousands of years while its own kind went extinct.

When you tug on it, you notice the stem is quite thick, almost as wide as a branch. Not only was it sturdy, but you noticed there was some powdery substance on the flower itself. Even though you know little to nothing about this particular flower, you know that most flowers in Teyvat do not have a powdery coating on top of the petals. You rub the powder between your gloved thumb and index finger, testing its consistency.

“That’s odd. I’ve never seen a flower that has this powdery coating on it,” you murmur, leaning your face closer to the flower to inspect it.

“Does it smell like the Scent of Spring?” Kazuha asks, watching you examine the flower closely.

You shrugged your shoulders and gave a whiff of the flower. After whiffing the flower, you have concluded that the flower has no scent at all. Therefore whoever named the flower needs to rename it because it doesn’t smell like spring, nor does it smell like anything at all. It does have a hint of an earthy smell, but that could be coming from the rocks and the dirt it’s planted in.

You shake your head. “There’s no scent. The Akademiya scholars will need to rename it because it has no fragrance at all,” you say, proceeding to gently grab it by the stem, lightly tugging on it.

When you tug on it lightly, it does not budge. Not even a little bit. You furrow your eyebrows and pull on the flower harder. The harder you pull on the flower, the more you realize the flower isn’t going to be budging anytime soon. Before you know it, the flower sprays the powder all over you. You freeze and release the flower, blinking at the men, who look at you worriedly.

You breathe in the powder, feeling the powder inhaled through your nose. You coughed and began hacking, punching your chest, doubling over while in a coughing fit. Gorou panics and runs toward you, only for you to shake your head frantically and gesture for him and others not to come any closer.

Gorou whimpers, looking at the others worriedly. “[Y/N], are you okay?” Gorou asks softly.

You calm down after a few minutes and take a deep breath, wincing when you feel the powder in your throat and lungs. You take deep gulps of air and straighten up, looking over at the flower. The flower no longer has a powdery coating on its petals, which was strange because it made you assume the flower never had any powder coating in the first place. What was that thing that coated the flower? Unless it was the flower that spits the powder at you as a defense mechanism?

You stroke your chin. “How strange,” You mutter.

Xiao scoffs. “Yeah, no kidding. You were hacking your lungs up a few minutes ago, and now you’re acting like everything’s okay?” Xiao asks, propping his hands on his hips while narrowing his eyes at you.

You clear your throat, swallowing your saliva. You wince and rub your throat, sniffing the air lightly. You can still feel the powdery substance in your nose, lungs, and throat. It feels awful. It’s almost as if you purposefully inhaled cinnamon or breathed in cinnamon. Your nose begins to itch, making you take your rubber gloves off and rub your nose, hoping to get rid of the itchiness in your nostrils.

Zhongli approaches you and places a hand on your shoulder. “Dearest, are you alright?” Zhongli asks softly.

You wave Zhongli off and nod, but you don’t brush his hands away from you. “Yeah! I’m fine! Totally fine!” You say, giving the men a strained smile.

Before any of the men could speak up, you squeeze your eyes shut and sneeze into your elbow. You quickly act like nothing has happened. The men stare at you, and you stare right back at them. You cough into your elbow to clear your throat. You can still feel the powder lingering in your nose, lungs, and throat. You look over at the flower, and you still don’t see any of the powder coatings that you have inhaled. Whatever the powder was, you only hope it’s not a drug that will negatively impact you and your health. Just when Tighnari was about to open his mouth to say something, you sneezed again.

You rub your nose and groan. “Oh my gosh. I can still feel the stupid powder,” you groused.

“We should head back to the abode and get you checked out,” Dainsleif says, now standing beside you.

“What about the flower? It wouldn’t budge when I tried to get it,” you mutter, pointing over at the flower that looks delicate.

Pierro sighs and closes his eyes. “We’ll get it for you,” he says, looking over at Capitano and nodding.

Capitano walks toward the flower wedged between the cracks in the wall. Capitano grabs the flower by the stem and begins to lightly tug on the flower to see how stuck it is in the gaps.

“Okay, but please be care—”

Capitano grunts and rips the flower from the wall; the flower is still intact and in good shape. Somehow. You look at Capitano blankly, who turns toward you and holds the flower out to you. You, Dainsleif, and Zhongli stare at the flower in Capitano’s hand.

“The flower was firmly planted in the cracks. You need to put more force when you pull the flower out from where it was planted,” Capitano says gruffly.

You grab the flower from Capitano’s hand and place the flower in the glass case. The flower is beautiful, but you’re upset the flower sprayed the powdery substance at you. And now you have to get checked up to see if the powder has any effects on you, your lungs, your nose, and your throat. Other than the lingering feeling of inhaling the powder, you feel fine. You close the glass case and put it back in your backpack, putting the bag on and rubbing your nose with the palm of your hand.

Pantalone looks at you worriedly. “Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t feel strange, do you?” Pantalone asks.

You shake your head. “I’m feeling okay so far! But, we should get to the abode quick. I need to find a safe place to store the flower, then shower to wash this,” you gestured to your body, “off.”

Tighnari, Albedo, Baizhu, and Dottore walk up to you. Albedo, Tighnari, and Dottore pull out cotton swabs and begin to swipe at the powder on your body and put it in a glass test tube. You blink at the men and watch them pocket the test tube, acting like nothing has happened.

You shake your head with a deep exhale. “I’m assuming you’re all going to put it under the microscope to see what the powder actually is?” You ask.

Albedo nods and adjusts his glove. “We’re also going to run some tests on it to see what the powder is made of,” replies Albedo.

You and the men start walking back to the surface of the Chasm. You made sure the men walked ahead of you while you walked behind them. You don’t want to risk the men inhaling the powder while you walk in front of them, and a gust of wind blows the powder to their faces, making them inhale it. Upon arriving at the abode, you take your shoes off and rub your nose. Your nose is still itching, your throat no longer feels weird, but you can feel the powder lingering in your lungs.

“Are we going to the lab, or are we going to the infirmary for my check-up?” You ask, scratching the back of your head.

Other than wondering where you need to go for the check-up, you really want to take a shower and wash the remaining powder off your clothes, hair, and body. The powder got everywhere (it covered you from head to toe, pretty much), and it bothered you.

Tighnari hums and taps his chin. “That’s a good question,” Tighnari hums, tapping his foot on the ground.

“Wait! I’m going to take a shower first, then we can start with the check-up,” You said.

You turn around and quickly walk up the stairs to your bedroom. While you are showering, you scrub every nook and cranny with a loofa lathered in a sakura blossom-scented shower gel. You want to make sure to scrub and wash away the powder sprayed at you.

You might have to dispose of the clothes you wore to the Chasm. You don’t want the powder to be lingering around or spread on other things in the abode (like the men’s clothes). So far, you’re not feeling anything from the powder. The only thing it’s doing to you is making you cough and sneeze occasionally.

You changed into clean undergarments and clothes. You wrap your hair in a towel and submerge your clothes in the water to make sure the powder dissolves into the water. You continue with your skincare routine, making sure to scrub your face for a long time with cleanser.

After your skincare, you walk to your bathtub and drain the water, wringing your clothes dry once the water is completely drained. Once the clothes are wrung, you toss them into a trash bag and take them downstairs, your hair still dripping wet from your shower. You open the trash can and throw the trash bag into it, ignoring the looks the men are giving you.

You clear your throat and turn to the others with a smile on your face. “I’m ready for my check-up now! Do we go to the infirmary, or are we going to get it done in the lab?” You ask.

“Why did you throw your clothes away?” Baizhu asks, pointing at the stainless steel trash bin.

You shrug your shoulders. “I’m throwing them away just to be safe. I soaked them in the bathtub and wrung them dry, but I’m not risking anything!” You huff, propping your hands on your hips.

Dottore approaches you and wraps his arms over your shoulders. “We’ll be conducting a simple check-up on you in the lab. You haven’t been showing any medical emergencies since we returned to the abode. So, I believe we’ll be doing it in the lab,” Dottore explains, turning to look at Tighnari, Albedo, and Baizhu, who nod in agreement.

You and the twenty-five men walk to the laboratory in the basement of the estate. You sit on the closest chair and wait for one of the four men (Albedo, Baizhu, Dottore, and Tighnari) to start the check-up. While Baizhu’s checking up on your eyes, throat, breathing, and your heart, the other men ask you various questions.

“Did you feel strange when you breathed in the powder?” Ayato asks.

“Not really,” you shake your head, “other than coughing and sneezing because of the powder, I feel alright. Although I did feel the powder going into my throat and lungs when it sprayed on me.”

Dainsleif furrows his eyebrows and watches you closely. “Can you still feel it?” Dainsleif asks.

You take a deep breath, only for your breath to get caught in your throat halfway, making you cough. You wince and nod to Dainsleif’s question. “I can still feel it, but not as much as I could earlier,” you croak.

“Here, drink this,” Childe says as he hands you a cup of water.

You give Childe a grateful smile and grab the cup from his hands before gulping the water. After a few more questions from the men, Baizhu concludes that you’re healthy and there’s nothing wrong. But Baizhu did advise you to keep a close eye on your health and body in case anything changes overnight or over the next few days. That is something you don’t mind doing, and you’re planning on doing it anyway.

You look at the flower in the display case in the laboratory. It’s in great condition. Nothing is torn or crushed, thankfully. You get up from your seat and walk toward the display glass. As much as you want to start your research on the flower, your breathing in the powder is already too much for you to deal with. Especially when you have coughing or sneezing fits every now and then.

Kaeya notices the look on your face while you examine the flower. “Oh, no. You’re not conducting any experiments or research right now, bunny. What you need to do is rest,” says Kaeya, crossing his arms over his chest.

You pucker your lips. “I know, Kaeya! I just wanted to make sure the flower is in good condition! After all, Capitano did rip the flower from the cracks,” you say, looking over at the tall man.

Capitano shrugs. “You attempted to be gentle with the flower, and it wouldn’t budge. Therefore, I took it into my own hands and got you the flower you need for your research,” replies Capitano.

You turn toward the flower and continue where you left off. The powder. The flower didn’t produce the powder again, making you wonder if the powder was only temporary or if it’ll make the powdery coating again if the flower was still in the cracks. Even if the flower did produce that powder as a defense mechanism from predators or (in your and the Akademiya’s case) people who want to take the flower from its habitat, the flower did not create any more powder after it sprayed you the first time.

Pierro raises an eyebrow at you. “What’s on your mind, little one?” Pierro asks.

You press your lips into a thin line and shake your head. “Way too much, that’s for sure,” you sigh.

“I think you should take a break for today! We returned to the abode from the Chasm not too long ago. It’s been a long day for all of us, and you should spend the day with us relaxing and doing nothing!” Itto proclaims, pulling you to his chest and patting your damp hair.

You snort and let yourself melt in Itto’s arms. “Alright, I’ll take up on your offer,” you say, reaching up and tapping on Itto’s nose lightly.

Itto scrunches his nose and rubs the tip of his nose against yours. You giggle and wrap your arms around his waist, pressing a kiss on his cheek. Itto lifts you up and carries you out of the laboratory with the other men following behind. Some were muttering about how Itto is hogging you for himself and how it’s not fair for everyone else. It’s Childe that’s muttering about it, the others were giving Itto silent glares and looks of disapproval. Itto collapses on the couch with you in his arms, wrapping both his arms and legs around you while smirking at the others that groan loudly.

Diluc rolls his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose while shaking his head. “Itto, can you not hog [Y/N] for yourself?” Diluc asks, frowning at the Oni clinging to you.

Itto gives Diluc a cheeky grin and shakes his head, tightening his arms and legs around you while you lay on Itto’s chest limply. After almost a year of dating these men (holy shit, has it been nearly a year?), you have decided not to fight off their affections and clinginess unless you want them to become even clingier. Therefore you have accepted your fate and let these men smother you with love and affection.

Xiao pulls out his polearm and looks over at Diluc from the corner of his eyes. “Do you want me to do something about it?” Asks Xiao.

Diluc shakes his head, continuing to narrow his eyes at Itto. Itto ignores the look almost everyone is giving him by burying his face into your neck and closing his eyes. You and the men lounge around the living room for the rest of the day. You and Thoma end up making pizza for everyone to eat— you and Thoma made a lot of pizza since everyone has a big appetite. Once the pizza was done cooking, you all dined in the living room with your pizzas, catching up with what had happened at work and school (since you’re an Akademiya student).

The day soon winds down, and everyone has finished their pizzas and is scattered around the living area of the estate. Since Itto decides to hog your attention, the others have decided to do it back to him by doing the same. You were passed around from man to man to snuggle with them. Each time Itto tries to snuggle with you, you’re taken away from his grasp by another man, leaving Itto to pout and complain to the others.

You’re now lying on Pantalone’s chest, slowly dozing off. After consuming about five slices of pizza, you feel really full and really sleepy. Pantalone is reading a book while combing his fingers through your hair, lulling you to sleep. Just when you’re about to fall asleep, you feel someone press their hands against your forehead. You crack your eyes open and see Al Haitham and Kaveh standing in front of you, bending down to examine you.

Kaveh smiles at you, brushing your hair away from your face. “Sorry to disturb your nap. We were just checking up on you,” Kaveh says softly.

Al Haitham lightly smacks Kaveh’s hand away from your face before caressing your face. “How are you doing? Do you feel off in any way, or do you feel okay?

Kaveh scowls at Kaveh, crossing his arms over his chest. You rub your eyes sleepily, continuing to lie on Pantalone’s chest. You stare at the ground, trying to process what’s going on. How do you feel? Well, for starters, you shouldn’t have eaten too many pizzas because now you’re feeling exhausted because of the number of carbs you’ve eaten.

“I’m tired. I’m also very full,” you grumble, yawning. “I shouldn’t have taken up on Itto’s offer of having a pizza-eating competition. Now I feel like I’m pregnant,” you mumble, rubbing your tummy.

“And you beat Itto in the pizza-eating competition. I’m surprised he stopped after four slices of pizza,” Venti interjects, propping his hands on his hips.

You nod. “Me too! And he’s very competitive, and yet he stopped eating after four slices,” you grumble, looking over at Itto, who gives you a sheepish look.

Cyno hums and strokes his chin, glancing at Itto and then over at you. “I guess he didn’t want a pizza-of it anymore,” Cyno commented, shrugging his shoulders.

Everyone around Cyno groans and gives him a side-eye. You snort and shake your head, burying your face into Pantalone’s chest. Whenever Cyno sees an opportunity to crack a lame joke, he will take it. You feel something stir inside you, making you freeze in Pantalone’s arms, making him look down at you curiously.

Pantalone scratches your head gently. “What’s wrong?” Pantalone murmurs, tilting his head to the side to get a better look at your face.

“I don’t know. I feel something strange,” you mutter, sitting up and straddling Pantalone’s lap. “I can’t really explain it. Health-wise, I’m fine. Physically, I am fine as well.” You tap your chin before rubbing your face.

Maybe it’s the effects of eating five slices of pizza, but you don’t think that could be it exactly. What you are going to do is go to bed and take a nap because the sleepiness is catching up to you at full speed. You get off of Pantalone’s lap and rub your eyes, yawning and stretching your arms in the air.

“I am going to bed now. It’s been a long day, and I think sleep is what I need,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck before glancing over at the clock.

Scaramouche gets up from his seat and walks over to where you’re standing. “I’ll take you to your room if that’s okay with you,” Scaramouche offers, holding his arm out for you to take.

“Yeah, sure! I don’t mind!” You say, linking your arms with Scaramouche.

Heizou holds his hands up to stop you and Scaramouche from leaving. “You’re just going to leave us all without a goodnight kiss?” Heizou teases, pouting at you while batting his eyelashes at you.

You roll your eyes playfully and snort. “Ah, I see! How could I forget about our bedtime rituals?” You ask, unlinking your arms around Scaramouche’s arm.

The bedtime routine for you is to bid each man goodnight with hugs, kisses, or both depending on the man. Usually, it would take a while for you to bid everyone goodnight because one man wouldn’t want to hand you over to the next person because he wanted to hold onto you longer— which is where you are currently at: stuck in Zhongli’s arms and his refusal to hand you over to Thoma.

You poke Zhongli’s biceps. “Zhongli, I need to bid Thoma goodnight before going to bed. He’s the last person,” you pout, repeatedly poking him.

Zhongli tightens his grip around you with a sigh. Zhongli leans down to your ear, pressing his lips on your ear. “Must I let you go? How about you stay with me for the night?” Zhongli murmurs, closing his eyes.

“Hey! If I can’t have [Y/N] sleep in my room tonight, then no one can!” Aether complains loudly, plopping down on the couch with his arms crossed over his torso.

You reach toward Thoma. Thoma grabs your hands and pulls you toward him, attempting to pull you from Zhongli’s grasp. Zhongli tightens his grip around you and narrows his eyes at Thoma, who is struggling to release you from the former archon’s grasp.

Thoma laughs breathlessly. “Come on, Zhongli! I’m only going to be bidding [Y/N] goodnight! It’s not like I’ll be stealing them from you for the night,” Thoma rolls his eyes playfully.

Zhongli rests his chin on your shoulders. “Then you can just say goodnight to my dearest and call it a day,” he huffs, burying his face into your neck.

The men watch Zhongli and Thoma plays tug-of-war with you for the next five minutes. You end up breaking the tug-of-war by batting at the two men like a cat. You give Zhongli a look before slowly walking toward Thoma, wrapping your arms around his waist and narrowing your eyes at Zhongli, who narrows his eyes in return.

“Who knew the God of Contracts is clingy,” Kazuha chuckles, shaking his head.

Gorou leans toward Kazuha and whispers, “I don’t think I would want to be Zhongli’s competition. He’s more possessive over [Y/N] than we all are.”

To be fair, all of the men are possessive over you. And you gotta admit, you love it when the men are possessive over you. Who wouldn’t be? Imagine having twenty-five attractive men wrapped around your finger, and they’re willing to rip an arm off of someone if they (the person that isn’t in the harem) touch you? Despite you loving the men’s possessiveness over you, you did set a boundary they cannot cross, and they respect those boundaries of yours. Plus, they may be possessive over you, but they’re not overly possessive to the point where you cannot talk to anyone that’s not them, nor do they prevent you from doing things you love and going outside the abode.

You unwrap your arms around Thoma and walk toward the stairs. “Okay, goodnight!” You said, waving at the men and running up the stairs to your bedroom.

The next day, you’re rudely awoken from your sleep by the feeling of throbbing between your legs and your body being overheated. You look around your bedroom sleepily and panting. You sit and toss your blanket off your body. Your body is covered in a thin layer of sweat, nearly soaking through your clothes. You’re not entirely sure if your menstrual cycle is close or not because you’re feeling unbelievably horny.

You end up taking a shower to wake up and cool your overheated body. And now here you are, sitting in the bathtub, letting cold water rain down on you while you try to find a way to relieve this feeling between your legs. You’re not a prude. You’ve masturbated to relieve yourself before. But this feeling is stronger, and it's unavoidable. Therefore, that is what you did in the shower for the next fifteen minutes— trying to relieve yourself and soothe the aching between your legs. Did it work? No, it did not work at all.

After your failed attempts of trying to relieve yourself, you step out of the bathroom. The only bright side is that you’re not covered in sweat like how you were when you first woke up. Well, rudely awoken from your sleep, to be more specific. You’re tempted to go back to bed and sleep the horniness away, but you know it won’t be going away any time soon. Your thoughts are interrupted by someone knocking at your bedroom door.

“Who is it?” You ask, slowly walking to the door.

“Oh, good! You’re awake! Are you ready for your check-up today?” You hear Tighnari ask.

You sigh in relief. A check-up, right! That’s what you need right now so you can know what’s going on with your body.

You grab the door handle and open the door. “Is the check-up going to be now, or will it be after breakfast?” You ask.

Albedo shrugs. “Whichever is good to you. We can give you a check-up before breakfast if that’s what you prefer,” replies Albedo.

“Can we do it now? I’m not feeling well, and I don’t think the check-up should be delayed any longer,” you said, leaning your head against the door frame with a shaky sigh.

Tighnari and Albedo look at you worriedly before taking you to the laboratory in the basement of the estate. While escorting you to the laboratory, the three of you walk past the other men. They greeted you, but you were busy telling Albedo and Tighnari the issue to acknowledge them. The men ended up following you, Tighnari, and Albedo to the lab.

In the laboratory, you’re sitting at the examination table. Baizhu takes your temperature while Dottore presses the back of his hand against your forehead. You’re very warm, almost like you’re running a fever despite feeling healthy. Unless you count the heat coursing through your veins and bubbling inside your guts to be unhealthy.

“Let me make this clear: you woke up feeling like you’re a dog in heat, and you were covered in a thin layer of sweat,” Scaramouche says, leaning against the wall.

You nod hesitantly and narrow your eyes at Scaramouche’s comment. “That is correct. Although I wish you didn’t include the ‘dog in heat’ part,” you reply, fidgeting in your seat.

Itto looks at you quizzically. “Are you sure you didn’t wake up from a wet dream? It happened to me before, and you know how that ended,” Itto says, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You do; you do know how it ended. It ended with Itto using you like a cocksleeve for almost three hours. That man is an Oni. Therefore you’re not surprised that he can go on for that long. Heck, he could go on longer if he wanted to, but seeing how worn out you were, he decided to stop at the three-hour mark. You couldn’t walk for the next few days, and you made Itto carry you around the estate as punishment. Then again, it’s not like Itto was forced to do it. He offered to carry you around, and you accepted his offer.

Ayato rolls his eyes after hearing Itto’s comment. “You did not need to mention that at all, Itto. You could’ve stopped at the question,” Ayato mutters, crossing his arms over his chest with a sharp huff of breath.

You think about it for a minute. It’s possible that you could have woken up from a wet dream, but usually, you remember your dreams. If you did have a wet dream, you wonder what it’s about because it made you feel like, according to Scaramouche, a dog in heat. Maybe it is a wet dream, but the heat inside your core and the throbbing between your legs feels unbearable. You’re trying to keep yourself together and not fall apart in front of the men.

“Are you guys sure it’s not the powder that is causing [Y/N]’s body to act this way?” Thoma asks, looking at you worriedly.

Your eyes widen, and you nod, pointing at Thoma. “Yeah! What he said! It’s most likely the powder from the flower that’s causing me to feel this way!” You exclaim.

Kaveh hums and looks at the flower sitting in the glass case. “Since you, Dottore, Baizhu, Albedo, and Tighnari have yet to experiment or study the plant and powder, I’m not entirely sure if that’s something we can automatically confirm to be the reason why you’re feeling this way,” Kaveh comments, tapping on his chin.

“Then what else could be affecting [Y/N] this way? They didn’t eat anything weird, and I’m sure it’s not a wet dream Itto claims it to be,” Al Haitham interjects, narrowing his eyes at Kaveh.

You run your fingers through your hair with a frustrated sigh. You know it’s the flower that’s making you feel this way. You’re the only one that got sprayed by this flower, and you inhaled large gulps of this mysterious powder. Days before going to the Chasm, you felt fine. You didn’t feel like a dog in heat. There’s no pit of fire in your core that is raging days prior to going to the Chasm.

You rub your temples with a frustrated sigh. “Is there a way for me to…. Stop this feeling? Or at least put it on hold, or make it less torturous?” You ask.

Archons, this is so frustrating. How else are you supposed to calm this heat in your gut? It’s driving you insane, and you want it to stop. It feels like you have a fire pit in your core, burning wildly, inextinguishable.

“The best we could tell you is to masturbate, but I’m assuming you already did it,” Dottore says, raising an eyebrow at you, the corner of his lips quirking up.

You huff and look away, your face becoming hot under his and the other men’s gaze. “So much for helping,” you mutter. “It’s gotten to the point where it starts to hurt a little bit,” you add, swinging your feet back and forth.

“Maybe whatever you’re feeling will go away as the day progresses. I think the best thing Dottore, Baizhu, Albedo, and Tighnari could do is give you medication,” Cyno comments, looking over at Baizhu, who walks up to you and hands you a small pill.

“This should help ease the pain you’re feeling. If the pain worsens, or if the feeling you’re experiencing right now progresses, please let us know,” Baizhu instructs, stroking your hair.

You grab the cup from Gorou’s hand and swallow the pill. After swallowing the pill, you and the men walked back upstairs and got ready for breakfast. The medication sort of eased the pain, but it did not quell the heat in your core.

You tried your best to ignore it, but the heat is hard to ignore because of how strong it is. Once you have finished breakfast, you excuse yourself and retreat back to your bedroom. The feeling of needing to be relieved died down for about four hours. It’s still there, but it’s not as bad as when you first woke up. You’re able to take a peaceful nap without being rudely woken up by the intense throbbing between your legs.

While you’re napping in your bedroom, the men are in the laboratory, trying to figure out what the powder could be. The flower does not have the powder on it, even if it's been almost twenty-four hours since you and the men have taken it from the Chasm. Dainsleif stares at the flower intently, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“I find it strange how the flower had powder on it before we discovered it. What’s even more strange is how the flower didn’t produce any more of the powder,” Dainsleif mutters.

Childe shrugs. “Maybe the reason why the flower didn’t produce any more of that powder is that we ripped it from the roots,” Childe suggests, stroking his chin while pacing back and forth in the laboratory.

Diluc looks over at Dottore, Albedo, Tighnari, and Baizhu. The four men are conducting experiments on the powder that is sprayed all over you. The flower continues to sit in its case, untouched. Diluc runs his fingers through his red hair and sighs.

“A Mora for your thought?” Kaeya asks, standing beside the wine tycoon.

Diluc pinches the space between his eyebrows and sighs for the umpteenth time. “It bothers me that we can’t find a way to help [Y/N]. It’s affecting them so much that they had to request to take medication to ease the pain,” Diluc replies.

Aether and Heizou approach Kaeya and Diluc.

“If it’s something we’re suspecting, then there might be a way to help them ease the pain,” says Heizou, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

Xiao narrows his eyes at Heizou from across the room. “Why are you so calm about this? Do you not care that [Y/N] is suffering?” Xiao demands, pushing himself off the wall and walking toward Heizou and Aether.

Xiao is now standing in front of both Aether and Heizou, his arms crossing over his chest while he glares at Heizou, who blinks at him calmly. Aether laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck, and Aether pats Xiao’s shoulders. Xiao doesn’t flinch. Instead, he continues to stare at Heizou with a small glare.

“I think Heizou is trying his best to remain calm. We won’t be able to find the solution to [Y/N]’s suffering if we’re all panicking and hovering over them constantly,” Aether explains.

Over at the table where the four men are conducting the research, Venti trots up to the four men and peek over their shoulders with curiosity. Albedo is looking at the powder from under the microscope, and they’re all wearing masks to prevent themselves from inhaling the powder.

“I highly suggest you wear a mask when you’re entering our area. It’s not safe if you’re with us unprotected,” says Albedo, handing a surgical mask to Venti.

Venti shrugs his shoulders and puts the mask on over his face before gazing at the four men curiously. “So! Do you guys know what the powder is?” Venti asks.

“They’ve been inspecting the powder for a while now. It can take some more time for them to figure out what it really is,” Pantalone hollers from across the room.

Gorou hums and plops down on the loveseat in the laboratory, resting his elbow on the armrest. “Do you guys think the flower produced that powder, or did someone else put the powder on it so it can prevent people from taking the flower from the Chasm?” Gorou asks while his ears twitching with worry.

Capitano nods. “It’s possible that someone could cover the flower with the powder. If it is true, then we’re going to need to find out who it is,” Capitano answers, leaning in his seat.

Kazuha sighs and leans his head back, closing his eyes. “How long will it be until we get the results back?” Kazuha asks, turning his head in the four men’s direction.

Dottore slowly looks away from the test tube and takes his mask off before approaching where the others are gathered in the lab. It’s been almost an hour since you retreated to your bedroom to get some sleep. Therefore, it has been nearly an hour since he, Albedo, Baizhu, and Tighnari have been working closely to find out what the powder is made of and what it does to the human body.

“It shouldn’t be taking longer than two hours if there are four knowledgeable people working together to get the results,” Pierro mutters, his eyes scanning the laboratory with disinterest.

Kaveh sighs loudly, leaning against the wall with his head tilting forward. “And how much longer is that? I feel like we’ve been down here for way too long,” Kaveh complains aloud.

Al Haitham rolls his eyes at Kaveh. “Can you not complain for the day? All you do is complain about the littlest things, Kaveh,” Al Haitham says, shooting a glare in Kaveh’s direction.

Kaveh scoffs and is about to retort when the other three men begin muttering to themselves. Everyone looks in their direction and slowly approaches them, stopping three feet away from where Albedo, Tighnari, and Baizhu are standing.

Heizou looks at the three men curiously. “Did you guys get the results?” Heizou asks, raising his eyebrows at them.

Tighnari, Albedo, and Baizhu look at each other worriedly. The three men nod and take their gloves off, tossing them into the trash bin. They all give each other looks as if they’re mentally debating with each other to see who’s going to announce the results to everyone in the laboratory.

“We should’ve known what it was in the first place,” Tighnari sighs, slapping his forehead with a deep frown.

Aether looks at them anxiously. “What are you guys implying?” Aether asks, clenching and unclenching his fist.

“The powder that sprayed all over [Y/N] is a—”

Gorou and Tighnari perk up suddenly, their eyes widening, their pupils dilated. Back to your room, you wake up, and the medicine has either worn off or it wasn’t strong enough to diffuse the heat in your core. You kneel on your bed, curling up into a ball and groaning and whimpering. The aching between your legs has grown immensely. You feel your underwear becoming damp. Your wetness dampens through not only your underwear but also your sleep shorts.

You roll off your bed, bumping into your nightstand. The water pitcher and glass cup tumble off the nightstand, shattering into millions of pieces. You groan and fall to your knees, hugging your lower abdomen and whimpering softly. You didn’t know whether you wanted to clean the mess off your bedroom floor or continue to writhe in pain on the floor.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you chanted, pressing your hot and sweaty forehead against the wooden floor of your bedroom.

The heat in your core feels like a cramp. It hurts a lot, and you don’t think there’s any medication downstairs that can ease the pain. Not even masturbation can quell the pit of fire in your core. It hurts too much, and the ache seems to only grow even more.

Ayato sighs. “Well, go on! What is it?” Ayato asks, raising his eyebrows at Baizhu.

Baizhu sighs. “The powder that sprayed all over [Y/N] is an aphrodisiac. It’s sex pollen,” Baizhu says.

Cyno raises his eyebrows at Tighnari and Gorou. “Why are you guys acting that way?” Cyno asks.

“We need to check on [Y/N] immediately,” Gorou orders.

Everyone runs back upstairs to the estate and toward your bedroom. You lay on the ground, curled up in a ball, your sweat getting on the floor of your room. At this point, your clothes are drenched in sweat, and your underwear is completely soaked through. You want to feel humiliated, but you’re too hot and bothered to even feel a pinch of embarrassment.

Loud sets of footsteps and chatter are coming up from the stairs. Your eyes widen, and you quickly get off the ground and crawl to the door to barricade the door with your body. The door handle jiggles. You quickly reach for the door handle and lock it to prevent anyone from coming into your room.

Childe curses under his breath. “Snookums? Are you okay?” Childe asks, banging on the door lightly.

You let out a shaky breath. “I’m fine, Childe.” You whisper, leaning your head against the door.

“No. You’re not fine. We found out what you accidentally inhaled back at the Chasm,” Diluc replies, pushing Childe away from the door.

You sigh and press your lips into a thin line, fanning your overheated body with your sweat-soaked t-shirt. You’re tempted to strip off all your clothes, but the painful ache between your legs and the heat in your core is making it hard for you to do anything besides remain sitting where you’re at.

“You inhaled a large amount of aphrodisiac. We’re not sure whether the flower produced the aphrodisiac or if someone purposefully covered the flower with it to prevent people from taking the flower,” Capitano replies, leaning against the door frame.

You let out a breathless laugh. “That makes sense. No wonder I feel like a dog in heat,” you croak, closing your eyes and resting your head on the door.

“Please, let us in. We can find a way to help you with what you’re going through,” Kazuha pleads.

You shake your head, knowing the men won’t see it. As much as you want the feeling to go away, you can’t have the men be involved. You would rather ride it out and wait for it to disappear from your system.

You swallow the dry lump in your throat. “It hurts so much, but I don’t want any of you to get involved. Let me ride it out, and I’ll be fine,” you whisper.

Dottore sighs and rubs his forehead. “That’s the problem, [Y/N]. The only time the aphrodisiac will wear off is if you do something about it, not ride it out alone,” Dottore explains.

You curl your toes, run your fingers through your hair and start to pull at the roots. Your breathing is labored, your chest is heaving, you feel so hot, and you want it all to go away.

“I don’t want to force any of you to help me with my issue,” you mutter, wiping your sweaty neck with the back of your hand.

You wince when you feel that the back of your hand is also sweaty. You’re so hot. Not even the cool air in your bedroom can cool you down. Heck, you think if the men were to leave you in Dragonspine, the sheer cold wouldn’t bother you one bit.

Dainsleif sighs and close his eyes. “You’re not forcing us to do anything, sweetheart. We want to help you, and seeing you suffer is the last thing we want you to go through,” Dainsleif replies, trying to open your bedroom door, only to no avail.

“We? All of you are going to take turns rearranging my insides, or is it going to be one person that does it?” You mutter, wiping the sweat from your eyebrows with the collar of your shirt.

Xiao looks at the men from the corner of his eyes. “I would prefer to have you for myself. I don’t like sharing,” Xiao states.

Itto perks up after hearing Xiao’s response. “Yeah! Me too! If there’s someone that can help you ride through this wave of sex pollen, it’s the one and Oni!” Itto says, pointing at himself with his thumb.

You laugh nervously, rubbing your neck. “I don’t know how long this aphrodisiac is going to be in my system, but for now, I think one person should suffice,” you murmur.

“Do you have a preference in mind? Immortals? People with furry ears? Old people? People with eyepatches and masks?” Venti trails off, looking at the men around him.

You shake your head. “No, I don’t have a preference. If I did, I wouldn’t be dating all of you now, would I?” you mutter, closing your eyes.

“Alright! Now that’s settled, we’ll send in someone! Just open the door, and whoever is chosen will step into your room to help you with your problem,” you hear Heizou say.

“Okay,” you mumble.

You unlock your bedroom door and slowly crawl away from the door. Everything is silent, other than the faint sound of your panting. You hug your knees to your chest, digging your fingernails into your calves. You watch the doorknob slowly turn, and the door cracks open.

Note: DUN, DUN, DUNNNN! Who could it be!? Ready to choose who's going to be the first one to get their smut in this new smut series? Click [HERE] for the poll for whichever character you want to be the first one to get their smut! As the story progresses, the men who already have their fics will be removed from the poll and previous polls will be closed. As for new characters, they will be added, but they will get their smut if they get the most votes. If no one gets voted, then I will choose and my close friends/mods in my discord server get to choose their favorite Genshin man to go after my choice [that is if people don't vote] ✨ Anyway, to my new and/or returning readers, please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for my Isekai'd!Reader one-shot series and my overall taglist: @xyji, @chirikoheina, @yoru-trash, @kaoyamamegami, @kwelibeeery, @deartoru, @luminarymoonlight, @toobytub, @ins4nebish, @bokuto-kinnie, @honeybedo, @exhaustedcommunist, @jadedist, @mompt2, @chalksdreams, @thelost-in-time, @ventisweetheart, @hispasian-otaku, @juuuuuj101010, @alteeeeyang, @samarill, @testsubject0012, @irisxiel, @emilymikado, @mabie, @vinnie-w, @n8mareee, @bajifairyy, @heyimkay, @milkpeanuts476, @eliciana, @blesstosuisen, @goldeneclipsedragon, @jjvr4yxc, @sovermike-21-blog, @vox34, @wynncrites, @skyyyyackerman, @undecidingfate, @nightlysunn, @faeryminnyx, @simpcreator, @lucifarts-boxers, @urlocalheizousimp, @sunlightstarr (Accounts that I was unable to tag have been removed. Those who don't want to be tagged in certain stories are not tagged in this particular post. Remember to check your settings if you're allowing people to mention you/tag you in posts or not)

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