#you see in supports and through the lines orange oranges

[randomnameless]

I've heard you mention before how bad the Zahras chapter is in terms of characterization for the three lords, especially Dimitri, but can you specify the reasons why?

Thanks to the datamine, I can finally get those lines without having to screencap everything from youtube!

So,

For Dimitri, Claude says this :

I'm just gonna come out and say it: After the war, I'm going to abolish the Central Church and depose the archbishop. The people of Fódlan have been shackled by this decrepit system for too long, and I'm ending it.

So okayyy...

Claude just says he has some beef with the person Dimitri welcomed as a refugee. Why?

That's right. Think about it. Who steals your freedom and gives you an endless list of duties and obligations simply because you have a Crest?

Dimitri's obligations and duties are his, not because he has a crest, but because he is a King - just like King of Almyra would have obligations and duties not to let his own people starve or be used as meatshields in Saturday raids, or letting his spurned son mount the biggest invasion ever because he's too busy mopping about his missing son, but apparently the King of Almyra doesn't give a fuck about his people.

And while yes, Dimitri is a King because he was born with a crest as Lambert's son... The need to have a crested King never came from the Church, and let's be real, Dimitri, as the character we know, feels like he has a duty to people and wishes to help because he is Dimitri, even if he was crestless like Ashe, Dimitri would want to help (just like Ashe!).

Who forces you and your friends into a bunch of unwanted marriages and positions of power?

That's not the Church, for sure, but the feudal notion of nobility - even if, let's be real, it is completely hypocritical for Claude to say this, because the same notion of nobility also exists in places around the continent where the CoS has no sway like... Almyra?

And about the unwanted marriages, again, Claude knows (or should know) Lorenz and his marriage problems, it is not the Church who forces people in unwanted marriages, but the responsibilities that come with being a Noble - Lorenz marrying Marianne means both house Gloucester and House Edmund are strengthened and could work more closely, maybe being able to rival Riegan or even overtake them in an "importance" contest, Lorenz marrying Leonie means... House Gloucester stays House Gloucester.

It's also hilarious because AG has a NPC talking about her marriage to House Gautier (I think?), and she never mentions the Church, rather mentions how she ultimately loves her husband.

The church even forbids any official contact with outside regions!

Source : my chamber pot

Dimitri knows well, after having seen Rhea helping Duscurian refugees, that the Church does not forbid contact with "outside regions", hell, Faerghus and Duscur were on relative good grounds, before the Regicide.

Not exactly great for Faerghus, right? Being as close to Sreng and Albinea as you are.

If Faerghus has sour relationships with Sreng, it's because of border raids, but of course a Prince of Almyra will never talk about this :)

And we know Albinea trades a lot with Fodlan, in general, if their damn fruits being in every region is any indication - or this tidbit from the Book detailing the Royal Territories of Faerghus :

Dominic A small but beautiful barony. Its coastal cities have become a hub of commerce through trade with Albinea.

Too bad Claude speaks, again, with confidence, about something he doesn't know, but can you imagine a micro-second that Dimitri doesn't know who Dominic trades with? Gilbert, a second son of House Dominic, is pious to a fault - but apparently he never bothers telling his brother that trading with Albinea is BaD, so...

Claude, again, is presenting the contents of his chamber pot to Dimitri, asking him to trust him based on those.

Claude continues, after assuring Dimitri that Faerghus isn't his goal !

And really, our enemy isn't the actual church so much as the people at the top who make all the decisions.

Rhea BaD

So it's not even about the Church in General, but apparently, Rhea (as the people at the top) makes the decisions to, uh, prevent the world from interacting with Fodlan (but there are Morfis merchants in Garreg Mach???) - the same woman who, in AG, we hear busies herself helping children and refugees from Duscur after a fire or what not.

(And that's not talking about the kind of official "contact" Adrestia had with Brigid and Sreng...)

I'm sorry Claude, but if the Alliance doesn't want to have any "official" contact with Almyra, it's not because Rhea forbids said contact, but it's because your father, your brother and your retainer (?) Nader apparently do not see anything wrong with a penis measuring contest that consists in raiding, "rampaging" and "bringing souvenirs" from Fodlan for funsies.

So, after playing 12 chapters in AG where Dimitri knows what Rhea does, we could expect some rebuttal, right?

I understand where you're coming from, Claude, and on a personal level I actually agree with you.

Dimi, no :(

But as King, he is opposed, not because a King has to use his head and can't do stupid shit on a whim (like marrying the still current wife of a foreign leader!)

Yes, for three reasons. First, abolishing the church would deny the king's right to rule Faerghus. Without one, the people will descend into chaos and war. Would you be able to take responsibility for such a thing, once it came to pass?

My Bad!

That mention of the King's right to rule Faerghus coming from the Church was nonsensical during the discourse days, and still is, after Nopes.

If the Kingdom's name is "Holy", remember that a name and a history doesn't mean a thing when people don't want to follow it - again, remember what happened with Adrestia? They pissed on the Church, Rhea acting as a witness is a custom you can ignore whenever you want, and they are actually waging a war against the Church of Seiros, when Seiros herself fucking created (together with Willy!) the country who has her own symbol on their flag!

Faerghus won its independence against Adrestia, Church or no Church, Faerghus existed by fucking over the Empire (as it was led by Loog). Without the Church, and faced with a powerful Empire, are we really supposed to think Faerghians won't rally behind Loog's scion to, hm, protect them or at least ensure their continued independence from Adrestia?

Second, recklessly discarding the church will only incite discord among the clergy and its supporters.

This is a somewhat valid reason, as we know, the CoS helped the Kingdom in recent times, especially after the regicide. But they are also currently helping the Kingdom against Supreme Leader's war of conquest, let it be by taking care of randoms or sending its knights to support Faerghus.

Also, the Kingdom operates on "shat upon by this game" notions of gratitude, love and loyalty - unlike Adrestia, if Supreme Leader's stunt of backstabbing the CoS after they helped her get rid of "corruption" in the Empire is any indication. And I doubt the same Kingdom folk would readily accept it if their King suddenly got rid of the organisation/woman who helped them so much during their time of need.

And finally, a revolution of this nature will not only mean casualties among the commonfolk, but will endanger your own life as well.

I will have to check the JP text because this "revolution" word is a bit contrived - there's no revolution if you're just kicking out a religious organisation in YOUR Kingdom - but yes, commonfolk will be pissed (maybe take up weapons?) even if I'm pretty sure some "noblefolk" will also be pissed at this decision.

And because Dimitri worries about everyone - save for Rhea and the church apparently because they BaD - he also worries about Claude's life.

Leaving the first two for a second, I have some serious issues with that last one. I'm glad you're concerned for my safety, but I can take care of myself

Claude really replies with "leaving logic aside" and the commonfolk casualties he doesn't give a fuck about if GW is any indication, uwu don't worry about me I can watch over myself :)

Ah, good ol' Plot Armor :)

But don't you see? The people you wish to depose are human, just as you are.

Hahahan hilarious Dimitri, those people aren't human ! Supreme Leader told me!

No matter what ingenious scheme you come up with or how careful you try to be, they will suffer.

Is he trying to appeal to Claude's compassion and moral fiber? The guy who is, in GW, invading his country for funsies, staging a double invasion with Sreng forces who are just used as decoy/fodder?

And their vengeance will eventually find you, no matter how hard you try to stave it off. I know full well the guilt that accompanies such actions…and the retribution they provoke

Lol, no.

Who can give a fuck about the suffering of Nabateans/Church folk? Being backstabbed by everyone because of propaganda, and needing to die for reasons as consistent as a baby's first purée?

"don't do that Claude, Rhea will be angry and swear vengeance against you, and blablabla cycle of hatred and retributions and blabla"

Everyone has to deal with the consequences of their decisions. If you let it rule you, Fódlan never changes.

Says Mister "I abolished a Republic and created a Kingdom in the land that used to say "we bow to no king and to no emperor" " or "I'm invading your land and killing your people" or even "I'm enrolling Almyrans in my army who will rampage and bring souvenirs and the Leicesterians (?) are totally okay with it!" ?

Claude who never ever faces any consequences for his bonkers decision through the entire game? That guy? Talks about "dealing with the consequences"? Fodlan changing is more important than Fodlan dying?

(at least that's how it was for the Alliance turned Federation...)

But not taking the time to look where you're going will only lead you to stumble and fall. And if there are those who would be hurt by this, I consider it my duty to help them.

Dimitri wants to help... Claude, who would be hurt with this "revolution", but dgaf about getting rid of the Church, aka Rhea/Seteth/the clergy who would also, obviously, be "hurt" by this stupid idea?

Heh. There you go, trying to save everyone again. You really are too good for me!

Not everyone, as we all understood - the Church can burn :)

To be honest, I'm jealous of how you're not burdened with the same restrictions.

"tbh Claude, I'm jealous of how you don't give a fuck about the number of deaths your actions are causing"

Are we... sure that's Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd talking here? Really? Wasn't he body snatched by Chilon?

Forgot OOC, this line wouldn't even be said by this character.

In the world I'm trying to create, you wouldn't be burdened by them either. You could even… No, forget that. I'm serious about what I said, though. And I really do admire how you want to save everyone. Honestly, if you weren't a king, I think we could've been friends.

"In my world, you too wouldn't give a fuck about the deaths/suffering your actions are creating! You're only worried about them because you are king! But if you weren't, you could be an amoral asshole, just like me! Could we be fwends in an AU plz?"

I feel much the same. Had I joined with you, I might have been able to see a different vision of Fódlan.

"yeah!"

Sadly, Dimitri isn't able to throw his compassion and morals to the trashcan, so he cannot join Claude !

And if you consider this line can be said during the GW events (remember, the invasion, killing Matthias, killing his soldiers and his people, etc etc), this is even more insulting.

So, as a good friend said, this Zahrofl convo shits on FE16!Claude (but the games is all about it), but more importantly, it is the only place in the game where Dimitri is Nopes'd, aka, his character does a 180° and/or is butchered because the plot demands so.

Like, anon, can you imagine a second, Dimitri, the Dimitri, wishing he too, couldn't "be burdened"' by the suffering he creates?

Imo, it's on par with Supreme Leader suddenly loving the sun and loving to swim. That character wouldn't be Supreme Leader, just like the person in this convo, isn't Fodlan's Dimitri (tfw Engage's Emblem!Dimitri is more faithful to IS's idea of Dimitri than Nopes lol).

#anon #replies #3 nopes #poor Dimitri #Nopes'd #funny how both claude and clout talk about consequences #when both games off screen said consequences or they just don't exist at all for him #ditto with Supreme Leader but that's another cup of Hresvelg Tea #Faerghus and arguable the Church are the only ones who face 'consequences' for their actions or the actions that are supposedly theirs #and the fact that this game never bothers having anyone or anything contradict both Clout and Supreme Leader on screen when they're saying #oranges are purple is really something #you see in supports and through the lines orange oranges #but no one ever tells them that no purple oranges aren't in this game #bring me more concrecte evidence that the oranges you talk about exist #also note the lack of consideration or even sympathy given to Nabateans/church folks #it's bad to backstab them like dicks because they will come after your ass #not because backstabbing someone who turned to you for help and helped you in return is a dick move #i mean there's a reason why in ASOIAF the Starks are the uncontested good guys/heroes of the series #iirc there was that pretty powerful scene when sansa refuses cersei's mindset #people don't follow you bcs they fear you #they follow and listen to you because they love you #anyways a Dimitri who ditches his allies and wards while not being under duress is imo not Dimitri #but maybe i haven't studied his character enough?

[zanarkandskylines]

₊✩‧₊⇢  right person, wrong time?

『 ෆ k.bakugo x fem!reader 』 ⋆ ˚ʚɞ — repost; after more discussions, i decided to delete the follow up on the original post thread & re-post separately. i don't wanna be accused of stealing someone's idea after already apologizing for it. this'll be the last i talk about it.

Bakugo’s loved you since high school. You always pushed him to work hard, never took his shit without giving it back tenfold, and was a pillar of support through some of the toughest times in his life. Even so, he’s convinced himself you’d never feel the same, that he has no shot with you.

Why?

Because you’re quirkless.

You’re part of the 20% without one, and he told himself he can’t get in your way of your life. Bakugo can’t stand the thought of being the reason why you don’t chase after your own dreams. He knows you too well - you’d put your happiness aside to support him the second he asked. You’d put your life on hold if it meant for him to succeed as a pro hero.

But he can’t do that. You’re the one thing he can’t seem to bring himself to be selfish about.

So Bakugo sits idly by, for years, as your best friend. The one you’d do anything for, no matter the time or place. He watches you date shitty guys and picks up the pieces they leave you in. Buys you your favorite foods when you have a bad day, surprises you with “just thinking of you” gifts, and drops whatever he’s doing the second you need him.

He’s attempted dating, desperately tried to get you out of his heart and make room for someone else - he fails each time. Miserably.

So tonight, that all changes.

You’re attending the annual Hero Gala together tonight, just like you have for the last four years. Bakugo always asks you to be his plus one as it keeps people away from him and he gets to spend time with you…rather, gets to see you dressed to the nines and have you on his arm all night long. It’s the one day a year he gets to pretend you’re his.

You’ve recently gotten a huge promotion in your line of work and he’s broken the top 10 of the hero charts - what better time than now to shoot his shot? He’s waited long enough, run through every excuse in the book why not to tell you how he feels.

The night winds down and the two of you get back into his car, sitting in silence for the ride home. That’s not uncommon for you two, but Bakugo’s reading too much into it tonight. It makes his hands tremble on the wheel, white knuckling the pleather from nerves. Once he pulls up to your apartment complex, he turns the car off and gets out to open your door for you.

To his surprise, you invite him in.

“I have a surprise for you!”

Bakugo’s whole body is tense at this point. What could you have for him?

“Here, open it.” You hand him a small box wrapped in orange paper. “It’s not much and a little cheesy, but congratulations on breaking the top 10!”

He opens the package to find a golden bracelet in a box with the inscription “plus ultra, dynamight!” on the underside of it.

“Ya didn’t have to get me shit, but thank you. I love it.”

He hugs you immediately, scooping you into a loving embrace and relishing in the excuse to have skin contact with you.

“I, uh, actually have somethin’ for you, too.” His voice waivers while he fiddles with his jacket pocket. You raise an eyebrow while waiting for him to present…whatever it is he had.

Bakugo pulls out a small box of his own, handing over the velvet jewelry case. You gingerly take it from his palm and can’t help but notice he’s shaking like a leaf.

“Are you okay, Kat? You’re shaking.”

“Just…open it.”

And you do - revealing a beautiful rose gold locket inside. It’s in the shape of a heart, dainty yet big enough to fit a minuscule picture. Before you open it, he stops you by gently touching your hand. He’s trying to hold eye contact with you, but keeps darting between your gaze and the ceiling.

“I’m sorry if this seems outta nowhere, but it’s been eatin’ me alive for years. And if it’s too much, we can forget it ever happened.”

You tilt your head at him in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Oh. The locket.

Time crawls to a halt as you pry open the locket, peering into the small enclosure to see two things - a picture of the two of you on the left and a small handwritten phrase on the right.

‘I love you. -Kats’

The silence in the apartment is deafening. Bakugo’s vibrating out of his skin while awaiting a semblance of a response to his confession. You’re normally easy to read, but in the moment, he’s struggling to observe how you could be feeling. It’s driving him fucking insane. He starts to feel regret, embarrassment settling in his bones as he bites his lip.

He just ruined everything. The precious friendship you two had - gone. He knew that locket was a stupid idea.

Bakugo’s preparing himself for your rejection. The tears are building and the lump in his throat solidifies. He attempts to keep himself together as he begins to croak out an apology.

“Look, I shoulda—”

“Say it.”

Bewilderment is an understatement as he recoils at your demand. He blinks the stray tears away, all the breath he had being stolen away by your words. He swallows thickly, never thinking he’d get this far in the conversation. He was fully prepared to high tail it outta there, not…stay.

“Wha—”

“Tell me you love me.”

This can’t be real.

Bakugo’s body moves on its own, closing the gap between you two in under the dim light of your entry way. He cradles your jaw, thumbing over the apple of your cheek and studying your eyes as he takes a deep breath. This is the moment he’s been waiting for - the one he’s been yearning over. The opportunity to tell you exactly how he feels, how much you mean to him.

Four words is all he needs.

“I fucking love you.”

You can’t help but laugh, maybe a little too loudly as Bakugo’s cheeks turn strawberry in color.

“It’s about damn time. I love you too.”

His heart pounds, his legs feel like jello, his muscles stiffen. And yet, he powers through it all.

Your lips meet for the first time - the kiss is soft, sweet, careful.

When you part, his vision blurs a bit, overwhelmed by the emotions swelling in his chest. His lips are slightly parted behind heavy breaths, taking in the moment he was so graciously given.

“I didn’t wanna get in your way.”

You laugh. “Then don’t be in my way, come with me.”

God, he was such an idiot. A lovesick fool blinded by his own infatuation to see that his best friend loved him, too.

You hand the locket to Bakugo and spin around while holding up your hair. He tenderly places the chain around your neck and secures the clasp, letting the metal fall to your collarbone.

“I’m all yours, Katsuki.”

You always have been.

thanks to everyone who sent in a message & encouraged me to keep this up. we're all just trying to have a good time together on this site and share our feelings about characters we love. there's no need to talk down or discourage others from expressing themselves.

#katsuki bakugo #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo fluff #bakugou fluff #katsuki bakugou #bakugo x y/n #bakugou x y/n #katsuki x reader #bakugo drabble #bakugo imagine #☆.rei writes

[todorokies]

RUMOR HAS IT - suguru geto

✩࿐ the streets of london have now been considered a danger for citizens when a blood hunger vampire prowls looking for their next lady in waiting . . .

contents: very suggestive, fem!reader, vampire!geto, geto is bewitched by you(r blood), nanami cameo (yippee), nineteenth century gothic victorian era, this leans towards the thriller side, reader is a bit naive, a wee bit of manipulation, blood drinking, usage of ‘m’lady’, inspired by the song ‘rumor has it’ by adele & this tweet, 2.5k words

a/n: there is a lot of imagery written !!! i truly hope u all like it, reblogs & supportive feedback is welcome ik the wc is a lot but pls bare with me :”) . . . apart of @kentopedia’s ‘love through the ages’ collab

the sun has begun to shift into its everlasting transition of casting soft orange hues of light that are softly entangled with a dark shade of blue that covers up above. the moon had tucked its companion away for the time being as it began to come into view.

the current state of main street however didn’t reflect the tranquillity of peace; the town clock had loudly reverberated alerting the public of the danger that would soon lurk.

citizens both young and old trampled out of buildings leaving a simple gust of wind in their wake to reach their residences.

a curfew had recently been implemented by the town council in order to reduce the sudden influx —dubbed as animal attacks— of women being found lifeless on the cold streets, with their blood being completely drained from their bodies.

but alas, the troublesome rumours of the attacks being performed by a person rather than an animal, rattled in, heightening the unpleasantries.

the rotten smell of fear lingers in the air with the pumping adrenaline coursing through the towns folks veins. if the perpetrator weren’t foolish enough, an entire course meal has been presented onto a platter for them.

“staring won’t do you any good if you end up dead.” nanami, your coworker, noted who was packing the last of the bakery’s unsold goods in a bag to be taken home.

you quickly drew away from the windowsill, “doesn’t the site of it all make you miserable. this new curfew has done nothing but made everyone even more frightened.”

nanami’s features softened and pursed his lips in a thin line before sighing. “the curfew is sensible in hindsight, but when rules are enforced people have a sudden urge to break them, mainly to figure out what animal—”

“—or person,” you sharply cut him off which causes his eyebrows to crinkle.

“i mean, let’s face it, what kind of animal leaves two perfectly clean puncture wounds on the neck and abandons the body as it is without any carnage?”

a beat follows before you continue, “this is obviously the work of some mad scientist in town looking to make a name for themselves.”

he sighs, “animal or …person, you shouldn’t be standing here chatting with me about it.”

his eyes twinkle with remorse whilst handing the bag of baked goods over to you, “i could chaperone you to your residence, you do live on the outskirts of town. i deeply worry about your safety.”

you lightheartedly scoff, politely waving off the suggestion. “nonsense kento, i always seem to have luck on my side, the walk home will be uneventful as always.”

he frowns at this.

you can be extraordinarily stubborn at the most inappropriate times.

“besides what would society think once they see an unwed woman getting escorted by the opposite sex. you should hurry home yourself! send my kind regards to yuuji for me.”

you bunch up the detailed lace of your overflowing gown in one hand while holding the brown bag of pastries in the other.

swiftly scurrying off into the abandoned streets, “do take care of yourself!”

“get home safely and hurry before the streetlights turn on!” nanami yells out the door before locking up the establishment and heading on his own way.

the cobblestone beneath your feet painfully ached and crumbled apart with each passing step you took. shutters from other houses forcefully swung open from the wind that picked up overtime, soon a ghastly fog began to move in, hindering some of your vision.

you truthfully dreaded this. nanami’s offer is still mulled in the back of your head, you mentally slap yourself for dismissing a comforting and preferably safer option of returning home.

however, dwelling on the what if’s have never been your cup of tea, instead you attempt to take in the scenery of the town in it’s glory.

the eerie atmosphere reminded you of an agatha christie novel you’ve once read. the fond memory warms you up in the dead of night.

soon your manor appears into view. relief immediately washes over you, a small breath of air exited your lungs.

but then you hear it; an extra set of footsteps a mile or two from behind you that rippled the cement.

too heavy of a stride to be another woman in heels and too human-like to be a four legged animal. with each step you took, they would take on another, almost in sync to throw you off their suspicions.

you felt bare and exposed as the only thing that you could focus on was the tangible breeze rattling your bones, fingers turning numb and losing its feeling. your head buzzed considering the only two options to best handle the situation: continue the venture to your housing or confront the entity.

continuing your journey would result in the mysterious entity gaining knowledge of your location. whereas, standing idly waiting for the perpetrator’s next move would result in you being the newspaper’s front headliner.

you’ve concluded the mental battle with yourself on cutting through the woods and loosing whomever is behind you in the dust.

just as you were about to pick up your feet, a tap by a set of fingers rippled against your shoulder causing you to shriek.

“m’lady, i believe you dropped this.” a sultry voice booms through your ears that belonged to a man so majestic you couldn’t comprehend. your breath staggers while your mouth hang slightly agape.

he was as pale as a lilith in its full bloom but still managed to glisten under the moonlight. monolid eyes sharpened that showcased nothing but intensity and gluttony.

you couldn’t dare away, especially not when his gaze has your flesh burning to the touch as heat pools between your legs, an endless void of lust and mystery.

somehow breaking out of his enchantment, you regain consciousness, blinking away the blurriness and swiftly take the handkerchief he handed to you and stuff it in your dress pocket.

“o-oh, thank you kind sir,” your words heavily slurs past your lips.

his overwhelming aura seemingly switches, presenting more of a laid back approach when speaking to you.

“what’s a dream like you doing roaming the streets at this hour?” he inquired.

it’s almost like whiplash— fear surging from every portion of your body to feeling a sense of ease with his presence around.

your face warms up. subconsciously picking at the skin that surrounds your nail beds. “just trying to make my way home, i had picked up a late shift from—”

“the bakery in town square, correct?”

taking a step, his taller frame leaned a quarter into your personal space suddenly being consumed by his aroma. sweetness mixed with a hint of sandalwood and lavender.

his fingers weakly pranced around a single strand of your hair that had been loose, meticulously swirling it about in a specific way that only pleased him.

only then were you able to come about his long raven locks that were styled in a charming half-do that seemingly blended in with the sinful sombre of the midnight sky.

your pulse amplified, picking up like the speed of lightning. your hands soon began accumulating sweat just by a single question.

despite town square serving the population of two countries bound together, not once have you had the pleasure of encountering this man.

he was far too bewitching to grace the status of a commoner. no, he must be a figure of royalty or at least had rich wealth flowing through his blood, but he showcases no obvious signs of luxury.

just who was this man exactly?

he watches you regain control over your psyche, backing away which lets the strand of hair he possessed on his finger seemingly bounce free.

“enlighten me. how do you possess knowledge of the location of my employment? my eyes have never seen someone of the likes of you before.”

he senses utter hostility from you. the entire cobbled street reeks of your fear. he can practically taste your appetizing disdain on the tip of his tongue.

his bottom lip gets trapped between his teeth to conceal the withering moan that elicited from his core; you’re unsettled by him which only fuels his erogenous.

he playfully surrenders his hands in the air as if you had just caught him in an obtuse act, “what, pray tell, are you insinuating?”

you scoff, “do you take me for a mockery?” your voice doesn’t waver, eyebrows cinched together with lips into a firm line.

he simply tuts, “only a well put together woman like yourself could gain employment at such a high end bakery that stands in town square. i based such an assumption off my judgement . . . forgive me, m’lady.”

your eyes cautiously scan his face to detect any signs of playfulness that went against his explanation. when none was present, it was your cue to ease up on your suspicions.

with a sharp intake of air, your tense shoulders unwind themselves from your ears as you straighten out your dress trying to knead at any wrinkles.

the bakery in town has built a famous name for itself, being known as one of the most ancient buildings standing tall, as well as offering fresh pastries throughout many wars and battles.

different hierarchies from all across the globe have made it their mission to invest in a trade deal of importing the bakery’s goods in exchange for many benefits.

“then again, you find yourself situated on this street conversing with an utter stranger during after hours. so pray tell, who exactly is the jester here?” he dryly asks.

the warm energy circulating between the two of you came to a sudden halt as the tension quickly grew cold.

his voice is fervent. a barbaric ignorance flows naturally in his tone as if he was challenging you, which is much different than how he addressed your inquiry.

truthfully suguru was growing impatient by the minute. he has worked all of the charms in the book but you still haven’t given him an opening for what he wanted the most. your body, soul and most importantly; your blood.

he salivated at the sight of the minuscule veins on your neck becoming more prominent when your voice raises an obtuse or two.

the excruciating torment of his body thumping with thirst made his head throb. his tongue swirled hungrily around his sharp left fang in anticipation. 

if you had blinked, you would’ve missed how he traveled at the speed of light. a gust of wind swept through the streets as a strong swooshing of air caused the ends of your dress to get caught up in the wake. suddenly, you were face to face again with the mystery man, his nose ever so gently grazing yours, feeling his cold breath onto your lips.

his eyes carefully scans your features, taking notice of the crease between your eyebrows. “you aren’t aware of my name yet you give me your time of day? or rather night that is? i feel honoured.” he purrs.

your heart collapses to your feet. what in god’s name were you doing?

allowing yourself to get seduced by a nameless maniac on the street at the devil’s hour. letting your head get filled to the brim with such deception and trickery. your bread must’ve gone stale and you hadn’t noticed until now how terribly your feet ached from standing for so long.

your brain screamed at you to pick up your feet and dash out of a sickly situation you’ve unfortunately found yourself in. but to no avail your soles stood firmly in place, you pitied yourself for still being under his aphrodisiac.

your eyes sting as tears begin to well up into the base of your waterline. he shushes you by lightly tapping his index fingers against your bottom lip then leans into the shell of your ear, “you were the most naive out of others yet the most challenging one, what is your secret, m’lady?”

the only thing you could muster up in the moment was a faint, “p-please don’t hurt me…”

to that, suguru’s current expression gets replaced by a look of genuine remorse. he smiles fondly, his eyes forming into crescent moons. “you mustn’t worry, i have different plans for you. now be a darling and tilt your head for me.”

his eyes glowed a crimson hue that casted a reflection in your own eyes. his divine string of words compelled you to follow his demand, having no conscious influence over your own actions.

he could see your arteries viciously pumping oxygen. unstable hollow breaths depart from your plump lips.

what a delightful sight you are.

finally, his fangs penetrate your fragile skin causing goosebumps to arise upon impact as angry scarlett red seeps out of the two puncture holes he’d created.

you gasp, your head is frantically bubbling with heat as your knees buckle, static shoots through your joints feeling vibrations all over your body.

he gently cradles the back of your head with one hand using his grip to better his angle on his landscape. drowsiness consumes you whole. feeling yourself slowly slipping into a labyrinth that only the man in front of you has the key to.

your whimpers and soft pants fill the air. your stomach soon coils with a pleasant sensation of pleasure, you’ve truly gone mad as you bite your lip to cover up the choked up moans from the pleasurable aches of pain.

your eyes roll back to the sky, mentally counting the stars until your body decides to shut down what leftover functions it had left.

your eyes softly flutter open, wincing almost immediately from the dim overhead lap that shines directly in your face.

you’re currently lying on top of the broody velvet red loveseat that resided in your manor’s foyer. how you got home is beyond your comprehension.

suddenly the horrific memories of this particular night floods in your head like a tsunami.

that man… his fangs…the blood.

your hand quickly flies towards the area of the wound that resided on your neck, which to your surprise, is covered by a heavily padded gauze that will soon need to be changed once you get up.

who or what brought you home and tended to your wound? was it that man or maybe he had left you on the streets, barely alive when another lost soul roaming at the witching hour took you home.

you spot a glass of water on the floor that had a note taped onto it next to your bagged pastries. you cautiously pick up the glass to hydrate your overly dry throat then carefully peel the paper off the glass to read the note.

the contents of the note reads:

i have seeked high and low for the purest form of life, to find a companion worthy enough to indulge me in this wretched world of misery but yet, you were found from right under my nose.

your purity sings to me like a songbird o’holiest of thee. a crystallized soul patiently waiting for a body to mold.

your blood is as rare as black dahlia, hidden deep within the nooks of clouded nostalgia. your pastel beauty is the cure to my everlasting torment in hell.

i will return for you, my love.

always and forever yours, suguru.

tags: @cawwn @osaemu @yunymphs @megumimania @dollria @maeby-cursed @get0

reblogs & feedback is extremely appreciated !! <3

#jujutsu kaisen #getou suguru #getou x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #getou suguru smut #getou suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen suguru #geto smut #getou x y/n #getou suguru x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jjk scenarios #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #jjk headcanons #suguru geto #geto x you #geto x yn #geto x y/n #getou x you #getou suguru x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #suguru geto smut #jjk drabbles #gojo smut

[fangirl-dot-com]

Across Every Universe - Part 2

Well, I didn't expect this work to get this long. It was only supposed to be short but then I worked on it all day and for multiple hours on end?? I guess I just enjoy this concept so much! These are basically the stories I wanted to put in last time, but they needed their own chapter to truly shine.

I know people asked for Arthur and reader romance, but To Do Is To Dare has always been a racing fic first and romance second. I tried to add in all the people I could without going crazy with the plot line or it would have gotten out of hand (or more than it already is). There is a lot of Max and Charles (my two favorite boys on the grid).

If anyone has anything against Lestappen - there's the door :)

Please enjoy :)

Earth 33891

“Please stand for his Majesty King Max Emilian Verstappen, King of the Netherlands and Prince of Orange.” 

Max always hated these announcements. Like, why did they have to always say his middle name and all the titles that came with it? He put on a gentle smile and waved to the crowds around him. Thankfully, his dressers had decided to forgo the kingly robes and opted for a nice suit with his pins. Definitely fitting for the Dutch Grand Prix. 

This would be his ninth to attend since taking the throne at 18-years-old after his father passed away. The kind always enjoyed seeing the Orange Army at the home race. 

After greeting everyone, he was led to the special box. Apparently, more than one royal had decided to attend as well. Max’s shoulders loosened when his eyes landed on a familiar figure. 

“Charles!”

Charles Marc Herve Perceval Leclerc, The Sovereign Prince of the Principality of Monaco. Max was always glad that his mother only chose one middle name for him instead of three. 

The prince’s green eyes widened at the sight of the Dutchman. He waved off whoever he was speaking to and all but glided across the room. The two forwent the formalities and brought each other into a hug. 

Max leaned back a bit to look the Monegasque in the eye. 

“What are you doing here? Monaco not enough for you?” 

There was a playful glint in his eyes as Charles rolled his. The brunet gestured to a plush couch in the corner, one that Max was excited to sit in. 

Charles began to speak, a small smile on his face, “Well as you know, my brother is currently dating one of the drivers on the grid. And it is her home race so Arthur wanted to come watch.” 

Max nodded, understanding perfectly. He knew exactly who Charles was talking about.

Y/n L/n, the only female driver, who currently was working on her fourth World Champion.

“And where is your brother now?” 

“He’s in the garage,” Charles rolled his eyes. He had wanted to go, but an ambassador had insisted that he needed to talk to the prince. 

“Why don’t we head there. I always want to say hello to my race winner.” 

Now, Max and Y/n had a very loving sibling relationship. The king had watched her grow up karting and made sure to sponsor her and support her through her career. Without his support, the girl would not have been able to continue. Yet, when you put the royal Dutch crest on your Formula 3 car, someone has to know that it means something. 

This would be her 4th season in Red Bull, having been 19 when she joined in 2019. She was only 20 when she won her first World Championship, breaking the record for the youngest ever to dominate the sport. 

Now she was 24 and is on a path to win her fourth in only five races if she keeps up the winning streak. Max was only older by 3 years, yet he watched over her like a very protective older brother. 

He and Charles had made their way down to the pitlane, much to their advisors’ chagrin. They passed by the Mercedes garage to say hello to King Lewis Hamilton III and then George Russell, Duke of Sussex. The two Brits had been friends or well, colleagues, with the other two reigning monarchs for quite some time. They were currently backing Kimi Antonelli and Mick Schumacher, the current driver line up for Mercedes.

Right next to the silver garage stood a very orange and bright one. Max was excited to see Lando Norris, Duke of York also in attendance. He was very close with the two Aussie drivers, Oscar Piastri and Daniel Ricciardo. 

Down the line was Williams, who was attending to a very eager Logan Sargeant, the President of the United States’ kid. Max was fond of the blond and often said hello to him whenever he got the chance in diplomatic settings. 

But finally, they were able to reach the big navy garage. Max could definitely pick up Arthur’s almost French accent everywhere. But, his ears were tuned to the sound of your Dutch accent that was similar to his. 

“Geitje!” he called out, finding your blond hair against the navy racing suit. 

You looked over your shoulder, pausing the conversation with your boyfriend. You rolled your eyes when you saw Max in his kingly splendor. You took a few steps toward the fellow Dutch and gave him a hug. 

“I told you to quit calling me that. I’m not a kid anymore, or was never a goat for that matter.” 

Charles took this moment to catch up with his brother. 

Max looked down at you fondly. “You’ll always be that small kid whose suit was two sizes too big on her.” 

You honestly wanted to cry, but you kept the tears in. There was a race that you needed to win. 

“Are you going to give me my trophy this year?” 

“Don’t I every year?” 

You looked up in mock thought. “Well, there was that one year that you had appendicitis and your mom gave me my trophy.” 

Max lightly nudged you. “That was one year, let it go.” 

You grumbled. “Well I hope that someone won’t break my trophy this year.” 

Your teammate, Ollie Bearman, popped his head up from where he was looking at his tyres. 

“It was one year Y/n! One year!” 

You giggled at the disgruntled yells from the British Driver. Ollie had been one of your favorite teammates. 

Your first year, you were paired with the golden boy himself, Sebastian Vettel, before he retired with one last championship. And then your first year as world champion, you were paired with Oscar Piastri before he left for McLaren. Ollie had been your teammate for the past two years, but you had a feeling that he’d stick around for more than a year. 

You got the heads up that the race would be starting soon. You turned back to Max. 

“Are you staying here or do you have to go?” 

Max had a mischievous glint in his eyes and was about to reply before being interrupted. 

“Actually, their royal highnesses need to return to the royal box.” 

Max fought the urge to roll his eyes. You only laughed and pushed him in the direction of the exit. 

“Go, I’ll see you at the top.” 

“Blijf veilig, alsjeblieft,” Max softly pleaded. 

He really hated that you put your life on the line every weekend for the job that you loved. He remembers the first time you had a terrifying crash when you were unconscious until they got you to the hospital. He was told that you probably wouldn’t wake up. However, you defied the odds and were back in the seat for the next race. 

You responded, just as gentle, “Voor jou, mijn koning, altijd.” 

When Max left, he turned around one last time and witnessed you giving Arthur a quick kiss before he put your helmet on. It was something that the two of you had been doing since you started dating almost two years ago. 

The Dutch king was back to walking with Charles to the box. 

“So, when is he proposing.” 

He hadn’t expected an answer, but was surprised when he got one. 

Charles gave Max a look. “They’re actually going to a restaurant, and he plans to propose tonight.” 

Max’s eyes widened at the confession. But, he got over it quickly before gently smiling. You deserved happiness, and you found that in his closest friend’s brother. 

“So will she have to stop racing for royal duties?” the blond questioned. 

Charles shook his head. “Non. Arthur will step down.” 

Max clapped him on the back. “Guess you and Alexandra need to start with some heirs huh?” 

Charles squinted up at him. “Says the man who currently needs to propose as well.” 

The prince got the last laugh as he left Max stuttering for a comeback. 

You won the race like Max knew you would. The king watched as you held your head up high as the Dutch National Anthem played loudly through the crowds. He saw the crowds of orange, the only ones rivaling the red Tifosi at Monza. 

The crowds were shouting, “De Langverwachte! Onze kleine leeuw!” 

The Long Awaited. 

Their Little Lion. 

Max had always wished for a champion from his home country. Something to ode back to the sport he loved as a kid. His wish came true in the form of you. People talked as the king publicly backed the only female driver on the grid. But he knew that you were something special. He was there as you took the championship from Vettel in the last lap of the 2020 season fair and square. Obviously he was thankful that there was no safety car to ruin your race of any kind. You had coped brilliantly against your older teammate and your talent truly showed.

Max was given the signal to head out with the hand painted trophy. He was honestly kind of scared to drop it. But he made it across the stage and handed it out to you.

You proudly took the trophy from Max after you bowed in respect. He may have been your friend, but he was your king first. 

The ceramic trophy was held high once it was safely in your hands. Jokingly you hugged it tight as you gently stepped down off the podium. Ollie gawked at your childishness before spraying you with the champagne. 

With trophy set down a nice ways away, you took your own bottle. Except, instead of spraying Ollie, you pointed it at Max, whose jaw was on the floor as you came after him with the liquid. 

If you were having fun now, you wouldn’t expect what was coming later that night. 

And you said yes. 

Earth 12399

“Zusje!”

Your eyes widened at the familiar squeaky and young voice. You turned your whole body away from your race engineer to only be taken down in the knees. Once you were on the floor, you laps was immediately filled with a small body that had bleach blond hair and bright blue eyes. 

“Maxy, Ik heb je gemist Kleintje!” 

“Uh Y/n, is everything good?” Charles’s voice sounded from above. You stared back at your teammate in the red overalls. You grabbed under the child’s arms and hoisted him up along with yourself. 

“Yep! Charles meet Max. Max meet Charlie.” 

Max’s small eyes widened before he tucked himself in your neck. Your hand came up and rubbed his back as you cooed. You turned back to Charles. 

“He’s a bit shy in front of his favorite driver.” 

You poked Max’s side and his giggles filled the room. The small one turned his head and peered at the Monegasque whose eyes were wide, looking at the child in his teammate’s arms. 

“Didn’t know you had a kid.” 

Your jaw dropped at his statement. 

“He’s not my kid, idiot. He’s my brother,” you hissed, lightly bouncing Max up and down as you swayed side to side. 

“Oooohhhh.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah oh. I’m younger than you.” 

“One night stand?” 

“Charles!”

The brunet laughed loudly, making Max giggle a bit with him. You looked down into his blue eyes. 

“Oh so you think that’s funny hm? I’m getting bullied.” 

Max only giggled more before pointing at Charles. 

“Rari?” 

You lovingly stared at him in your arms. “Yep, Rari.” You saw how Charles was staring at Max. “You want to hold him?” 

Charles dropped everything (only his water bottle) and reached out to take Max. Once he was in Charles’s arms, Max immediately rested his head on his shoulder and gripped the red suit. You smiled fondly at the two. 

“He’s so small,” Charles whispered after seeing the kid’s eyes close in slumber. 

You ruffled the spiky blond hair. “Yeah, he’s only 3 though. Full of wonder.” 

“Y/n!” 

Ah, there was your mother. You looked over and saw Sophie walking with your other sister Victoria. Thankfully, your dad was nowhere to be found. After you found out what he had done to Max, you put in a restraining order against him immediately. 

It was a hard discussion with your mom when you told her that she needed to divorce him. Tears were shed and hearts were broken. But, you never wanted to see another bruise on your younger brother again. 

It was fine if he did that to you. But to Max? 

Jos wouldn’t stand a chance against your anger. He had shaped you to be like him. 

A racer. A winner. The best. 

But being the best wasn’t supposed to be the most important anymore. And if he wanted you to be like him, then he’ll get his own anger thrown back into his face. You remembered how your fist met his eye after you found Max alone with him one night. An ugly purple thing covered Max’s tiny wrist and there was a scratch on his face. 

You had just returned home from a triple header and wanted to surprise your family. Only, you came home to Max’s screams of terror and Jos Verstappen yelling. You didn’t think, you just did. Sophie and Victoria returned home to multiple police cars and an ambulance in front of the house. When they finally were told what happened, they found you covering Max’s body with your arms as you spoke to one of the paramedics. A blanket was draped around your shoulders and a bruise was forming on your face as well. 

After that, you moved your entire family to Monaco with you. Your house was plenty bit and you only shared it with Charles whenever he came over to play FIFA. But now, whenever he wanted to play, you insisted on going to his house. 

It might have been to protect your family. Or it might have had to do with a certain handsome brother that Charles had. 

Definitely the first one.   

Hence why Charles had never met Max beforehand. But that also didn’t stop the little gremlin from choosing Charles as his favorite driver and not his sister. 

It’s not like you were bitter or anything. 

You walked toward your family and gave the two women a hug. 

“I’m glad that you could come today!” you told them, truly happy at their arrival. It wasn’t like it was a big race. You had already won the championship last week, which sadly they weren’t able to make it. But Max was still up past his bedtime when you got home after. The kid sleepily muttered that he was glad you won, even though you had beaten Charles. Yet, you reminded him that Charles had won the year before and it was sissy’s turn. 

Sophie looked at Max in Charles’s arms. “He’s so comfortable. I honestly thought he’d be scared of men after what happened.” 

Victoria nodded in agreement. 

You crossed your arms. “I think that Max knows that dad wasn’t a good man. And well, he still loves Lando though.” 

“Is that Max?” 

Speaking of. 

Max’s head jerked up from Charles’s shoulder at the familiar voice. His little head swerved in the direction of the papaya clad driver. 

“Lanno!” 

Max started to squirm in the captive arms. Charles quickly set him down, not wanting him to fall. Max immediately ran to the Briton, who picked him up with ease. At the sight of the two, Charles pouted. 

You knocked him with your shoulder. “Don’t’ worry, you’re still his favorite. He bought Max a toy McLaren for his birthday and Max demanded that I paint it red and add a 16 on the side.” 

Charles seemed to gleam with pride at the confession. 

“Don’t tell Lando though. He’d be devastated.” 

What Lando didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. 

“Hey little man. You ready to watch the race?” 

Max’s head bobbed quickly. 

“Are you going to watch Lanno win?” 

At that, Max shook his head making Lando’s eyes widened. 

“Little Verstappen I am hurt.” Lando clutched his hand to his heart in mock hurt. Max only stared at him while the McLaren driver put on a bit of a show. 

Charles piped up from beside you. “Max, is Charlie going to win?” 

Max, once again, shook his head. Now that made you confused, because Max always cheered for Charles. You cocked your head as you looked at your brother. 

“Then who Maxy?” 

The boy shyly pointed at you before muttering, “Zusje gaat jullie allemaal verslaan.” 

Not that made you laugh out loud, causing even more confusion to the two male drivers. You covered your mouth as you continued to laugh. Sophie and Victoria laughing as well. 

You smirked at your rival and teammate. 

“He said I’m going to kick your asses.” 

Max gasped as he heard your words. 

“Bad words!” 

Max pouted as he was put down by Lando. His little legs ran to you and his arms stretched out wanting you to pick him up. You squatted and scooped him up. Your arms tightened around him as he tried his best to hug you. 

“Sorry for the bad words kid.” 

“’S ok,” he slurred, getting even more tired. It was definitely his nap time. And it was time to get in your car. You handed him back to Sophie, who gave you a kiss on your head as you stooped. You gave a quick hug to Victoria before going back to kiss Max’s head. 

“I’ll win for you ok?” 

Obviously, he couldn’t hear you, but you would say it anyway. You turned away from your family to get ready. 

“Going soft on me L/n?” Lando quipped, making his way out of your garage. 

You discreetly flipped him off, to which he laughed at as he left. It took about 30 minutes to get in the car and get everything ready. You swerved your head, making sure the helmet was tight. Your eyes flitted about the garage and caught sight of your family again. Max was now wide awake and waving at you. 

Your gloved hand reached out and displayed your fingers wide. The little boy reached over in his mom’s arms and clapped your hand with his small one. You were given the signal that it was time and drove off once Sophie was out of the way. 

Her and Max watched as you rounded the corner in your red Ferrari, out of sight. 

Sophie leaned down and kissed her youngest’s head.

“Mijn baby, zal zus winnen?” 

Max’s small voice was just loud enough for her to hear. 

“Ja mama, sij is kampioen.” 

Earth 9596 

(btw - I made the max pic because no one has good edits of him in a ferrari suit)

“Scuderia Ferrari Signs Y/n L/n for the 2024 Season”

“Ferrari Mistake? The Formula 1 Team Signs the Youngest Driver to Date” 

“Ferrari Becomes the First Formula 1 Team to Sign Female Driver” 

“Former F1 Champion Lorenzo Alessandrino Backs Goddaughter as Her Race Engineer” 

“How Will Verstappen React to His Younger Teammate on the Track?” 

You hadn’t known what to expect when you arrived at the paddock first thing on Saturday morning. You had convinced Lorenzo to bring you early so you could at least avoid some of the crowds, if not all. However, it seemed like everyone else liked that plan as well, and the paddock was full. 

You hung back near Enzo as the two of you walked side by side. Your hands gripped your backpack straps hard, turning your knuckles almost stark white. Thankfully, your sunglasses kept your wide and scared eyes from the public. It wasn’t that you were scared of people. It’s what you thought that they thought about you that made you nervous. 

Just 17 and baby faced. 

Something that wasn’t heard of in 2024. Yet, with older drivers retiring back and forth, the FIA had to make new changes to deal with the need of rookie drivers. Hence why Lorenzo pushed to have Ferrari sign you as early as possible. You basically went from karting, to Formula 2 and didn’t even start your second season. 

It came as a shock when Lewis Hamilton finally retired after only one year at Ferrari. You had thought that he’d want to get one more championship to make it to 9. But, life throws curveballs and it was headed straight to you. 

Now you had to face your new teammate, a champion himself, Max Verstappen. You let out a sigh of relief when you noticed that he was talking to Charles Leclerc and Fernando Alonso. The two black Mercedes polos stood out in contrast to Max’s red one. You took a quick glance at the two drivers and realized that they were already watching you. 

Your cheeks heated up as you quickened your steps to get to the garage faster. Once you were in the safety of the garage, you let out a deep sigh. 

Lorenzo looked at you with a sad smile. He knew you were going to be overwhelmed for the entire day. He took his backpack off and reached down in, fingers feeling for your headphones. He took them out and handed them to you. 

You immediately put them on, connected them to your phone, turned on the music, and got to work on your racing journal. You wanted to go over your notes before the race. While you were distracted, Enzo took a little walk, trying to find some coffee. 

He ended up walking past the group of three drivers and smiled at Charles. The Italian knew of him growing up and was excited to see him in a team that gave him a good championship winning car. 

He nodded his head toward your new teammate. “Max.” 

Max’s eyes lightened at the familiar face. “Enzo!” 

The two bro-hugged before parting, letting Enzo greet the two Merc drivers. When he was done, Max had a teasing attitude. 

“Can’t convince you to stay as my engineer? Don’t get me wrong, I love GP, but you knew me better.” 

Enzo smiled and shook his head. “No can do. Gotta take care of my kid.” 

Fernando entered the conversation. “Where is she? We saw her walking but then she disappeared.” 

The older man scratched his head. “Yeah, she tends to do that. She’s a bit nervous.” 

Charles scoffed. “I’ll say. They shouldn’t have said anything until Wednesday. Sky Sports announced it way too early.” 

The Monegasque had something similar happen to him when he first joined Mercedes. It had all been planned that he would take Valtteri Bottas’s seat mid-season. Yet, Sky Sports announced it before Mercedes had a chance to even say that Bottas had wanted to retire early due to an illness. The media had made Charles into a seat-stealing villain his first season. 

The engineer nodded sadly. “I think she’s also nervous about the team.” 

Max looked at him with a shocked expression. “The team?” 

Enzo waved his hands. “She has full confidence. Y/n’s a bit nervous about trying to be on your level Max.” 

Well, that didn’t settle well with the Dutchman. Great, he was excited to have such a young teammate: someone who he could get along with and help them grow in the sport. But now, you were afraid of him? 

“She’s not scared of you Max, just nervous.” 

Oh. He said that out loud. 

Max glanced back at the garage. “Can I go talk to her.” 

Enzo nodded before handing him a pen. “I forgot to give this to her, she’ll be looking for it. You don’t mind giving it to her right?” 

“Not at all,” he responded, thankful for something that could break the ice between the two of you. 

Max grasped the pen and made his way to the overly bright red garage. He really wished Ferrari would take a page out of Mercedes’s book and make everything black. But no, they had to show off the corsa rosso red. 

You were too busy writing some notes down, with the wrong pen, to notice Max’s shoes now in your line of sight. The Dutchman lightly nudged your own shoe, which had your head jerking up to look at him. 

Your eyes widened and your hands reached to pull your headphones off. 

Max only smiled down at you. He thought that you looked like a scared mouse. He wondered if you were quiet like one as well. 

“Mind if I sit?” he asked. 

You could only shake your head no and scoot over as Max sat down on the concrete near you. The two of you sat in silence as you continued to scribble. Max suddenly remembered the pen in his hand. 

“Here. Enzo wanted me to give this to you.” 

Your fingers lightly touched his as you grabbed it from him. 

To Max, you also reminded him of his sister at this age. Shy, meek, quiet. But he had seen your videos and your impressiveness on the track. Your overtakes were nothing to be overlooked. He heard you sigh as the pen now nicely glided over the pages. 

The Dutchman let his eyes wander over the pages. He noticed that you were even taking notes on him as well.

You didn’t look at him, but you spoke, “If you break a bit later on turn 4, you can cut off another tenth.” 

Your voice gave Max whiplash as he wasn’t expecting you to talk to him without being prompted. His mind ran as he tried to remember turn 4. When he did the calculations he was surprised to find that you were correct. 

“How did you..” 

“I watched your onboards from last season. You’re very, what’s the word,” you gave him a smirk, “predictable.” 

Max’s jaw dropped, which caused you to laugh a bit. Max, although shocked, was glad that you were coming out of your shell a bit. 

He leaned over to whisper, “Are you overwhelmed with the red as much as I am.” 

You smiled as you whispered back, “It is positively draining. Why can’t they do black like Mercedes?” 

Max threw his hands up. “That’s what I’ve been saying.” 

You pretended to think. “What if we gang up on them. They can’t resist both drivers.” 

Max put on a weird accent, making his voice higher. “It’s either change the garage and everything to black or we walk.” 

That made you snort which caused Max to wheeze. 

Enzo was just on his way back with two coffees (both for him) when he heard the sound of you laughs mixed with Max’s. He smiled fondly at the two drivers. He took a sip before putting on his bright red headphones that he needed for qualifying. He coughed a bit, but it was soon over. Nothing like the sickness that he barely beat back in 2019. He was thankful that he got to continue to watch you grow. 

Max asked, “How far do you think you’ll get in qualifying?” 

You thought for a moment. “Uh, I hope to make it to Q2 if possible.”

The Dutchman lifted his hand to ruffle your hair. Your hands swatted at him as you pouted. 

“I think you can get farther.” 

You only shrugged. “We’ll see.” 

The car was definitely your safe space. You felt as though you could finally breathe easier. 

“Radio check please.” 

“Loud and clear Enzo.” 

“Ok, let’s get this bread.” 

You shook your head as you sat in the car. “Please never say that again.” 

Much to your and the team’s delight, you made it past Q1 and Q2. And you ended Q3 in the second row in P3. Max had just missed pole by mere hundredths. Charles Leclerc always had scarily good one lappers in the third session. 

Max gave you a giant hug at the end of the session, very glad at your positioning. 

As he had his arms around you, he thought to himself. 

“Yeah. You were going to be great.” 

Earth 331649 

The big letters stood out to Max as his eyes began to water. 

“Not Applicable for Adoption at this Time” was all the top said. He hadn’t bothered to read the rest. He knew what it was going to say. It’s what every letter said for the past few months. 

They weren’t approved. 

They traveled too much. 

There weren’t any in their preferred age group that were adoptable right now. 

They wouldn’t be able to take care of a baby. 

They were…Max didn’t even want to mention the word. 

He glanced at the gold band that adorned his ring finger on his left hand. The sight made his eyes water more. The paper was quickly crumpled and thrown to the side. The Dutchman leaned forward and put his hands over his face and just sobbed. 

They had been trying for so long. The conversation had started two years ago as they lied in bed one night. They were nearing the ends of their careers, but they hadn’t wanted to wait until they were retired. They were sure in their marriage enough to where they both could handle a baby in their lives. 

A mini them running around, playing with Jimmy and Sassy. The thought was too much to bear right now though. 

The door clicked but Max hadn’t heard, he just continued to sob. 

“Amore, I’m back from the shop. They had the pastries that you really liked. Amore?”

Max started sobbing harder. Before he heard knew it, strong arms wrapped around his shoulders. He heard a big sigh as a head rested against his back. 

“Another one?” 

Max didn’t even reply, but his sobs had subsided into quiet sniffles. Charles glanced over at the crumpled paper that had been tossed to the side. He’s told Max time and time again to wait until he gets home to read them, but the older was always a bit too excited or anxious to wait. He bit his tough, not wanting to say anything that could upset the Dutchman even more. 

“It will be all right.” 

“Will it?” Max bit back, full of sadness and anger. But, it wasn’t anger at Charles. He was angry at the world.��

“It will,” Charles hummed. However, the Monegasque was also getting run down by all the rejection letters. He didn’t know how much more he could take. But, he wanted to be strong for Max. For himself. For their hopeful future child. 

“Every time Charlie. Every time, it’s always a different excuse.” 

“Our time will come.” 

“But what if it doesn’t? We aren’t getting any younger Charles.” 

The Monegasque harshly inhaled. He stopped rubbing Max’s back. Although, he really didn’t know when he started. 

He went to say something, yet his phone rang loudly, breaking the silence of the room. Charles muttered something about wanting to hang up, but his breath hitched at the sight of the name at the top of his phone. His thumb had never pressed the answer button. 

He quickly put the call on speaker. 

“Bonjour?”

“Ah, Mr. Verstappen?”  

“This is he.” 

“Is your husband here with you?” 

Max perked up at the question. His eyes were bloodshot, but he was now paying attention. He scooted even closer to Charles, face almost in the phone. 

Charles chuckled at Max’s closeness. 

“Oui, he is here.” 

“Ok, so we just got a call from the Princess Grace Hospital. We think you want to come here for this.” 

Max gulped before whispering. “It is what we think it is?” 

Charles held his breath as he and Max waited for the answer. 

“Why don’t you come find out.”

The two of them could hear the playfulness as the their adoption agent hung up the phone. They looked into each other’s eyes before they dashed around, getting their shoes on. Max almost tripped as he hopped on one foot, his shoe getting caught on his finger. Charles chuckled as he bent to tie his own shoe. 

Max was halfway out the door, still waiting. 

“Come on Charlie.”

“Mon amore, are you forgetting something?” 

Max patted his pockets and realized he forgot the key that were now dangling on Charles’s finger. 

“Oh.” 

Charles rolled his eyes as he walked toward the door, grabbing Max’s waste as he walked. The Dutchman quickly followed him to the Monegasque’s Ferrari Purosangue. He bought the SUV when he and Max put in their first adoption profile. 

Max huffed as he noticed that Charles was going below the speed limit. 

“Baby, can you maybe, hurry up?” 

Charles only hummed as a reply. He did step on the gas a bit, but the Monaco speeds were slow as it. It wasn’t their fault that they drove ridiculously fast cars and his husband was currently high strung. 

Charles put his hand on Max’s thigh and started to rub small circles, which in the long run did help Max calm down a bit. 

The Dutchman had calmed down some by the time they parked in front. Charles started to get out of the car, but Max’s hand grabbed his arm before he got far. Charles recognized the look of fear on his husband’s face. His pointer finger found the golden band on Max’s finger and started to rub it. 

“What if- What if- What if it happens again.” 

Charles’s eyes drooped a bit at the sadness in Max’s voice. 

“But what if it doesn’t?” 

A glimmer of hope came back to Max’s eyes as he places a chaste kiss on Charles’s lips. 

“Let’s go.”

With an unbuckle of his seatbelt, Max was out the door. Charles had to catch up to Max’s larger steps. His hand soon found Max’s as they walked in. He squeezed three times, and got three in return. 

Charles look the lead as they approached the front desk. The lady at the computer had a nice attitude as she gave them a smile when she looked up from her screen. 

“May I help you gentlemen?” 

“Ah, yes, my husband and I got a call from our adoption agent, Mitch Walker.” 

The lady’s eyebrows raised as she started to type on her computer once again. Max bounced in his place, willing the lady to type faster. 

“Ah, floor three, room 89.” 

“Thank you,” Charles stated, already watching Max walk toward the elevator. He chuckled as he slowly followed, knowing the elevator would arrive when he got there. Inside the contraption, Max read the list of floors. 

His finger traced them until he got to the third floor. 

“Charlie.”

Charles looked where his finger had landed. 

Delivery floor.

Before Charles could react, the elevator doors opened. They both bolted into the hallway. 

86. 

87. 

88. 

89. 

They both paused in front. 

“Ready?” 

“Ready.” 

Charles grabbed the nob and slowly twisted. The room was a bit dim and Mitch was standing in the middle of the room. She turned at the sound of the door and a smile made a way on her face. 

“Hi guys,” she whispered. She stepped closer and pulled a curtain that cut the room in half. 

“Hi,” Charles replied, also whispering. 

Mitch put her hands together. “So, we have a little someone who was given up today. If everything goes well, you two might be going home with a baby today.” 

Tears welled up in Max’s eyes at her words. He choked down a sob and bit his knuckle.

“I just need you two to wash your hands and then you can meet her.” 

Charles whispered, “Her?” 

Mitch only nodded. 

This time, Charles was the one to let out a small sob. They gingerly walked over to the sink, hands bumping into each other as they rinsed under the water. Once dry, Mitch dragged the curtain back over. 

In the middle of the smaller section near a couch, lied a bassinet. With bated breath, Charles and Max peered over. Tears now welling in both their eyes. Max’s finger gently moved towards the baby’s face. 

He lightly grazed the soft cheek, causing the baby to squirm. Max had never jerked his hand away from something faster. Charles let out a small and quiet laugh. The baby’s hand was open, inviting Charles to put his finger in the tiny palm. 

The baby suddenly curled her fingers around the one finger, eyes suddenly opening. The Dutchman wanted to cry once again. Her green eyes peered up at him. Max’s eyes caught a tuft of hair and he gently pulled back the tiny hat. Blond hair appeared in a small bit. He gently pulled the hat back into place. 

His blond hair. 

Charles’s green eyes. 

Charles turned to Mitch. 

“Can I hold her.” 

A single nod had Charles scooping the baby in his arms, and he placed her on his chest. His body leaned back just a bit to accommodate her. Max immediately took his phone out and took a picture. He was definitely going to use that as his lock screen picture from now on. 

Max watched as Charles sat on the small couch in the corner. Max followed suit and sat next to him. 

The baby was looking right at him. 

“Hello little one,” he whispered, finding the courage to graze her face once again. A small smile appeared on the girl’s face, but it was short lived. But, Max had seen it and he was happy that it was directed at him. 

“-ax, Amore.”

His eyes shot up to Charles’s face. 

“Yes?” 

The brunet rolled his eyes. “I asked: Do you want to hold her?” 

Max could only nod. Charles gently handed her over to his husband and watched as his big hands cradled the baby. One hand was gently placed on her bum and the other on her head. He cooed at the man and baby, seeing tears stream down his face. 

Mitch quietly approached the couple. “So, it seems like everything is going well. I can almost read your minds and I got your application approved. It’ll take a while for everything to come in but you are good to take her home.” 

Charles stood and gave her a giant hug: big enough for the both of them. She patted Charles’s back before grinning widely again. 

“You know, she doesn’t have a name yet.” 

Max’s head whipped from the baby to the woman. 

“We get to name her?” he questioned, heart filling with so much love. There were so many names that he and Charles had picked out. The first name would be something special, something not used before. The middle names would be in honor of loved ones past and present. And then, the baby would take both last names. 

Mitch came over with a certificate and pen in hand. 

“Do you two know or do you need a moment?” 

Max nodded at Charles and then looked back down at the beautiful green eyes that stared up with him. 

Charles did the honors. 

“Her name is Y/n Julia Sophie Pascale Antoinette Leclerc-Verstappen.” 

Little Y/n. Oh how the world wasn’t ready. But it would welcome her with open arms.

Earth 959589 

“Shit!” you yelled, tumbling out of bed. You were late, oh you were so late. Max was going to kill you and you could say goodbye to your seat. 

Before the season even started. 

You tripped as you pulled on a shoe, face planting back into the bed. Your phone was currently blowing up with notifications as it rested on the side table. You hastily pulled on your Red Bull polo and grabbed your jeans. Your foot got stuck since you put your shoes on first. 

Great move Y/n, great move. 

You finally got a hand on your phone and answered the call. 

“Where are you? Max is close to having an aneurism,” your race engineer hissed through the phone.  

“I know Charles, but my alarm never went off!” 

Your head was pressing your phone to your shoulder as you talked and walked toward the elevator. 

“Just please get here ASAP,” he sighed. You could see the man rubbing his eyebrows, even if you couldn’t see him. 

“I’m getting in the car now.” 

“You better be thankful. I’ll see you here.” 

When you arrived to the paddock, you went directly to the interviews, which you were late for as well. You winced as you walked in front of everyone and sat down, face ablaze in red. 

Lando poked your side. At least he went with the polo so you two could be matching some. He leaned over when a question was directed to Arthur. 

“Max is going to kill you.” He smirked as he leaned away. Your microphone accidentally picked up the smack to his shoulder. Some eyes landed on you as you tried to duck away. 

Arthur looked over at you. “Nice of you to join us champ.” 

You shrugged. “My alarm didn’t go off.” 

“Sure.” 

Your jaw dropped. “Excuse you?” 

Before you could get any farther, a journalist asked a question directed toward you. 

“Y/n, if I may, how is this season a bit different than last?” 

Your eyes looked up as you thought of a good answer. “Uh, well, there was a lot of change within Red Bull this past winter break. My old teammate went to being my team principal. And then he somehow convinced Charles to join as well and be my race engineer.” 

A scoff came from Arthur that cause you to lean to look at him. 

“Are you all right Leclerc?” 

The Monegasque rolled his eyes. 

“I would like to have my brother back please.” 

“Well, too bad I got him first. And then back to my question. Lando became my teammate and he’s giving me a run for my money.” 

Lando smirked at that statement. 

“Ah yes, the cheeky little bugger he is. But, I’m really on track for my second championship. Maybe next year I’ll let Lando get one.” 

The journalist thanked you for your good answer.

Fortunately the press conference ended after that. Yet, it was unfortunate for you since you could feel Max’s glare from miles away. You stopped, causing Arthur to bump into your back. 

“Any chance I can come hide in your driver’s room?” 

Arthur shook his head yes, giving you some hope. 

“No.” 

You visibly deflated as you watched him walk toward the bright red garage. 

A sigh left your lips as you stalked toward the garage. Charles gave you a sympathetic look as you walked past. His hand rubbed your shoulder until he gently pushed you toward Max. You winced under the Dutchman’s glare. 

“My office Y/n.” 

You could only follow him into the office. You took the first seat you passed in front of the large desk. Max rubbed his eyebrows and sighed. But, you panicked. 

“I’m so sorry Max. I swore I turned on my alarms last night, but I was up late going over data again because I can’t let the team down again like last race. I know that I can make up the speed. And then my phone was on silent and then I tripped on my shoe and the car got stuck in traffic. I swear I went straight to the conference. I won’t be late again I promise, just please don’t take away my seat.” 

Max watched in horror as you lost your composure right in front of him. This monologue only told him that you were truly scared that he’d kick you off the team because of a little DNF last race. His heart dropped as he saw tears stream down your face as you visibly shook. 

He stood up quickly and rounded the desk. His hands dropped on your shoulders. 

“Kid, kid. Listen to me. You’re not going to lose your seat. I was just worried when you didn’t show up and when you didn’t answer mine or Charles’s calls.” 

“Oh.” 

Max wanted to laugh. “Yes, oh. Do you remember all the times I used to show up late? The times that Charles showed up late as well?” 

You let out a chuckle as you remembered both Ferrari drivers would show up a bit late. No one ever seemed to mind. You let out a sigh of relief. 

Max stood up and walked toward the door. “Now, let’s go out there and what do we do?” 

“Kick names and take ass!” 

Max rolled his eyes. “Sure kid. Sure.” 

Earth 1218 - Present Earth   

You gasped as you sat up in your bed. 

“Kid?” Max questioned, head popping up from the couch. Vegas had been super early again and you and Max didn’t want to go back to the hotel when you had FP2 soon. So, the two of you just curled up in his driver’s room. His voice was groggy as he had just gotten up from an interrupted nap as well. 

You clutched your head and groaned. 

“I had such weird dreams.” 

“Oh. Tell me?” Max’s head was already back down on his pillow. 

“You were a king, and then you were my younger brother?” 

Max snorted but let you continue. He knew that you wouldn’t remember in the morning anyway. 

“And then you were my teammate at Ferrari and Charles drove for Mercedes, Enzo was there. Oh, and then you and Charles were married.” 

“Kid you have been watching too many Lestappen edits on Twitter and TikTok.” 

You only grumbled. 

“I do not. Finally you were my team principal.” 

“Strange. Go back to sleep.” 

Max never got an answer back, because you were already zonked. He chucked and turned back over, phone clenched in his hand as he watched the edit of Charles’s 2022 sunset lap into his 2023 pre-storm qualification. However, he didn’t know that his volume was so loud. 

“He was sunshine, I was midnight rain…And I could see it all in my mind…” 

“I KNEW IT! YOU WATCH THEM TOO!” 

“GO TO SLEEP!” 

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @fly-me-away @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @33-81 @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19 @lizzypiastri

#f1 x driver!reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #platonic grid x reader #arthur leclerc x reader #formula 1 x you #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader #logan sargeant x reader #alex albon x reader #fernando alonso x reader #daniel riccardo x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #george russell x reader #across every universe #f1 au #to do is to dare fic #lestappen #formula 1 x reader #or any universe for that matter #formula one x reader #formula 1 edition #formula 1 imagine #different dimension #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #formula 1

[mostlysignssomeportents]

When the app tries to make you robo-scab

When we talk about the abusive nature of gig work, there’s some obvious targets, like algorithmic wage discrimination, where two workers are paid different rates for the same job, in order to trick occasional gig-workers to give up their other sources of income and become entirely dependent on the app:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/12/algorithmic-wage-discrimination/#fishers-of-men

Then there’s the opacity — imagine if your boss refused to tell you how much you’ll get paid for a job until after you’ve completed it, claimed that this was done in order to “protect privacy” — and then threatened anyone who helped you figure out the true wage on offer:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/08/07/hr-4193/#boss-app

Opacity is wage theft’s handmaiden: every gig worker producing content for a social media algorithm is subject to having their reach — and hence their pay — cut based on the unaccountable, inscrutable decisions of a content moderation system:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/10/e2e/#the-censors-pen

Making content for an algorithm is like having a boss that docks every paycheck because you broke rules that you are not allowed to know, because if you knew the rules, you’d figure out how to cheat without your boss catching you. Content moderation is the last place where security through obscurity is considered good practice:

https://doctorow.medium.com/como-is-infosec-307f87004563

When workers seize the means of computation, amazing things happen. In Indonesia, gig workers create and trade tuyul apps that let them unilaterally modify the way that their bosses’ systems see them — everything from GPS spoofing to accessibility mods:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/07/08/tuyul-apps/#gojek

So the tech and labor story isn’t wholly grim: there are lots of ways that tech can enhance labor struggles, letting workers collaborate and coordinate. Without digital systems, we wouldn’t have the Hot Strike Summer:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/02/not-what-it-does/#who-it-does-it-to

As the historic writer/actor strike shows us, the resurgent labor movement and the senescent forces of crapulent capitalism are locked in a death-struggle over not just what digital tools do, but who they do it for and who they do it to:

https://locusmag.com/2022/01/cory-doctorow-science-fiction-is-a-luddite-literature/

When it comes to the epic fight over who technology acts for and against, we need a diversity of tactics, backstopped by tech operated by and for its users — and by laws that protect workers and the public. That dynamic is in sharp focus in UNITE Here Local 11’s strike against Orange County’s Laguna Cliffs Marriott Resort & Spa.

The UNITE Here strike turns on the usual issues like a living wage (hotel staff are paid so little they have to rent rooming-house beds by the shift, paying for the right to sleep in a room for a few hours at a time, without any permanent accommodation). They’re also seeking health-care and pensions, so they can be healthy at work and retire after long service. Finally, they’re seeking their employer’s support for LA’s Responsible Hotels Ordinance, which would levy a tax on hotel rooms to help pay for hotel workers’ housing costs (a hotel worker who can’t afford a bed is the equivalent of a fast food worker who has to apply for food stamps):

https://www.unitehere11.org/responsible-hotels-ordinance/

But the Marriott — which is owned by the University of California and managed by Aimbridge Hospitality — has refused to bargain, walking out negotiations.

But the employer didn’t walk out over wages, benefits or support for a housing subsidy. They walked out when workers demanded that the scabs that the company was trying to hire to break the strike be given full time, union jobs.

These aren’t just any scabs, either. They’re predominantly Black workers who rely on the $700m Instawork app for gigs. These workers are being dispatched to cross the picket line without any warning that they’re being contracted as strikebreakers. When workers refuse the cross the picket and join the strike, Instawork cancels all their shifts and permanently blocks them from new jobs.

This is a new, technologically supercharged form of illegal strikebreaking. It’s one thing for a single boss to punish a worker who refuses to scab, but Instawork acts as a plausible-deniability filter for all the major employers in the region. Like the landlord apps that allow landlords to illegally fix rents by coordinating hikes, Instawork lets bosses illegally collude to rig wages by coordinating a blocklist of workers who refuse to scab:

https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2022/10/company-that-makes-rent-setting-software-for-landlords-sued-for-collusion/?comments=1

The racial dimension is really important here: the Marriott has a longstanding de facto policy of refusing to hire Black workers, and whenever they are confronted with this, they insist that there are no qualified Black workers in the labor pool. But as soon as the predominantly Latino workforce struck, Marriott discovered a vast Black workforce that it could coerce into scabbing, in collusion with Instawork.

Now, all of this isn’t just sleazy, it’s illegal, a violation of Section 7 of the NLRB Act. Historically, that wouldn’t have mattered, because a string of presidents, R and D, have appointed useless do-nothing ghouls to run the NLRB. But the Biden admin, pushed by the party’s left wing, made a string of historic, excellent appointments, including NLRB General Counsel Jennifer Abruzzo, who has set her sights on punishing gig work companies for flouting labor law:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/01/10/see-you-in-the-funny-papers/#bidens-legacy

UNITE HERE 11 has brought a case to the NLRB, charging the Instawork, the UC system, Marriott, and Aimbridge with violating labor law by blackmailing gig workers into crossing the picket line. The union is also asking the NLRB to punish the companies for failing to protect workers from violent retaliation from the wealthy hotel guests who have punched them and screamed epithets at them. The hotel has refused to identify these thug guests so that the workers they assaulted can swear out complaints against them.

Writing about the strike for Jacobin, Alex N Press tells the story of Thomas Bradley, a Black worker who was struck off all Instawork shifts for refusing to cross the picket line and joining it instead:

https://jacobin.com/2023/07/southern-california-hotel-workers-strike-automated-management-unite-here

Bradley’s case is exhibit A in the UNITE HERE 11 case before the NLRB. He has a degree in culinary arts, but racial discrimination in the industry has kept him stuck in gig and temp jobs ever since he graduated, nearly a quarter century ago. Bradley lived out of his car, but that was repossessed while he slept in a hotel room that UNITE HERE 11 fundraised for him, leaving him homeless and bereft of all his worldly possessions.

With UNITE HERE 11’s help, Bradley’s secured a job at the downtown LA Westin Bonaventure Hotel & Suites, a hotel that has bargained with the workers. Bradley is using his newfound secure position to campaign among other Instawork workers to convince them not to cross picket lines. In these group chats, Jacobin saw workers worrying “that joining the strike would jeopardize their standing on the app.”

Today (July 30) at 1530h, I’m appearing on a panel at Midsummer Scream in Long Beach, CA, to discuss the wonderful, award-winning “Ghost Post” Haunted Mansion project I worked on for Disney Imagineering.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this thread to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/30/computer-says-scab/#instawork

[Image ID: An old photo of strikers before a struck factory, with tear-gas plumes rising above them. The image has been modified to add a Marriott sign to the factory, and the menacing red eye of HAL9000 from Stanley Kubrick's '2001: A Space Odyssey' to the sky over the factory. The workers have been colorized to a yellow-green shade and the factory has been colorized to a sepia tone.]

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

#pluralistic #hot strike summer #unions #UNITE HERE #labor #computer says no #tuyul apps #jacobin #gig economy #nlrb #marriott #Laguna Cliffs Marriott Resort & Spa #instawork #scabs #Aimbridge Hospitality Group #University of California #nlrb section 7 #unfair labor practice #ulp #UNITE HERE Local 11 #mansion tax #race #algorithmic wage discrimination #Veena Dubal #disciplinary technology #chickenized reverse-centaurs #reverse-centaurs #como is infosec #Jennifer Abruzzo

[holllandtrash]

6t1 girlie going to celebrate that p2 real nice I reckon

silverstone celebrations | lando norris

continuation of the 6 to 1 series (read part 1 here)

lando gets a podium, his first one at his home race and surely that calls for a celebration. it's unfortunate, however, that the hotel walls aren't soundproof.

word count: 3.5k tags/warning: slight smut, fingering, female receiving, lando's a little shit but hey it's his podium, poorly translated french im so sorry, also not rly edited that well

Lando squeezed you so tight over the barriers, lifting your feet off the ground despite there being a clear fence to separate the drivers from their teams. There was no doubt in your mind that he would pull you over if he wouldn’t get in trouble from the stewards. 

The neon hat fell from your head as he kissed you, not like you cared, you hated it anyway. ‘You look like a highlighter’ Charles had said when you showed up in the paddock on Friday sporting the new Grandstand merch line Lando came out with specifically for this race. It was true, though. You looked like a highlighter all weekend, but you knew Lando loved seeing you in his merch and god were you easy to spot when he got out of the car in parc ferme. 

In the sea of orange and black McLaren crew members, there you were. Tears streamed down your face as you waited to congratulate Lando for his P2 finish. You were selfish about it too. You didn’t care that there were other people around you waiting to congratulate him, Zak Brown included, his family included, you wanted to kiss him and you wanted the world to see how proud you were that Lando had claimed a podium for the first time at his home race.

You pulled back, hands cupping his face. You couldn’t tell if your palms were sweaty or if Lando’s face was damp with sweat, it didn’t matter honestly, you just needed to look at him. You needed to see the excitement on his face, you wanted to take this moment in.

His hand covered yours as his eyes were squinting from how large his smile was. “We did it. We did it! P2, we-”

“No, you did it,” your voice came out broken, your happy sob choked you up and Lando nodded. He did it. You laughed, because how could you not. This was the happiest you had felt in a long time. “You did it, Lando. And I’m so, so proud of you. I love you. You did it.”

He gave your hand a squeeze before he was pulled away by someone else. A driver, a crew member, you weren’t sure. The rest of that celebration turned into a blur and it wasn’t until you felt champagne being sprayed on you as Lando stood atop the podium did it sink in that he accomplished something truly incredible at his home race. At McLaren’s home race. This would be a moment he would remember for the rest of his life and with every bone in your body, with every fibre of your being, you were proud of him. 

Witnessing Charles’ accomplishments through the years had always brought you a sense of joy but this was something else. As Lando pointed at you from where he stood, a few metres above everyone else, you couldn’t explain the feeling in your chest. There were no words to explain how you felt, you just wanted to embrace this victory and be there for Lando. 

Maybe it was because Lando said ‘we’. We did it, he told you. Staring directly into your glossy eyes because to him, the two of you were a team as much as him and McLaren were. His victory, his second place finish and you were very much a part of it. You were his biggest supporter, his loudest cheerleader, his motivation. He wanted to do well for McLaren of course, always, but god there was no better feeling in the world than having a good practice time or a decent quali session and seeing the look on your face. You were proud to call him yours and Lando desperately wanted to make a habit out of seeing your wide smile and teary eyes. 

Honestly, he couldn’t believe it when you showed up on Friday wearing the neon Grandstand jumper. Lime green? Highlighter yellow? It was bright and hideous, is what it was, but Lando loved it and then he loved it even more seeing you in it. He didn’t know you had planned on wearing it, having shown up to the track later than him but it was a wonderful surprise. 

And then Saturday, you showed up in the t-shirt and the baseball hat, the same blinding colour and he loved you even more for it. 

Sunday, he was certain you’d wear something else. The paddock was also a fashion show for some people and he knew you liked to dress up.

But no, there you were again. Baseball hat, bright green jumper, you even managed to find a pair of cotton shorts in a similar colour and you could be seen a mile away. You hated it, but you loved Lando, so you could sacrifice your dignity for his home race.

Of course, you changed as soon as you could. Deciding on an orange cropped cami and white trousers, colours that highlighted your summer glow and showed just enough skin that it had Lando rubbing his hand over his face as he muttered something under his breath about how beautiful you were. You had just strapped on the second heel and straightened up when Lando came up behind you, arms wrapping around your waist.

Your head rolled back onto his shoulder when his lips found your neck. His soft and slow kisses on your already hot skin had your breath hitching in your throat. You leaned into his chest, pressing your back as close as you could to him. Every inch of you that touched Lando lit a fire within your core.

“We could skip dinner,” Lando’s voice was low, barely above a whisper as the idea flowed from his mind into your ear, something he wanted to suggest earlier. A lot earlier.

He wanted to drag you into his driver's room and watch you drop to your knees in front of him. He wanted to leave marks on your skin in the backseat of the car with the partition rolled up. He wanted to pin you up against the wall as soon as you stepped foot into the hotel room, holding your hands above your head until you were begging to touch him.

But god forbid he had post race duties that kept any of that from happening.

The debrief. The fan stage with that disgusting shoey, but he had to keep his promise to Daniel about keeping the tradition alive. The individual thank you’s and handshakes to everyone he passed in the garage and paddock. And now the dinner with friends and family that was technically his idea but would it be so bad if he cancelled? 

Or at least, showed up late?

“We have a reservation-”

“Doesn’t mean we need to be the first ones there,” Lando pointed out, a deep chuckle emitting from his throat. One of his hands trailed downwards, playing with the button on the front of your pants before popping it open. His pinky traced over the thin material of your panties and there wasn’t a single word of discouragement that passed your lips when he pulled the zipper down, just a quiet whimper and Lando could have sworn he heard you say please.

You rolled your hips against him, feeling the tightening in his own pants as he spread his palm across your abdomen, fingers gripping your skin. 

He dipped past the hem of your underwear, the tip of his finger just barely teasing your clit. You swallowed, lifting your hand up to drag your nails through the hair on the back of your neck, pulling his lips to your neck once more because if you were going to feel Lando you wanted to feel him everywhere. 

His hand slipped further down, using his middle finger to swipe through your folds, already feeling how wet you were for him. What he didn’t know was there had been a pool forming since you first thought about celebrating his podium finish. You were as desperate for him as he was for you.

“Lando,” you whispered. His name was your plea, asking him to do something aside from his painfully slow motions. He took your earlobe between his teeth and you tightened your grip on his hair in response, your body reacting to him and his touch the way it always did. 

“Don’t rush me,” a breath of a laugh fell from his lips as he pressed another kiss to the spot below your ear. The slightest bit of pressure was applied to your centre as his thumb brushed over your clit. “Only fair I get to celebrate the way I want, don’t you think?”

“Let me treat you, then,” you tried to suggest, more than happy to switch positions and bring him to the edge before dinner. But you shouldn’t have been surprised when Lando’s response was to tighten his hold on you, his clothed erection pressing into your backside. 

“Maybe later,” he pushed the idea aside, wanting nothing more than to see your knees go weak and hear you call out his name because God only knew it was a better experience than any podium ceremony could ever give him. The crowd cheering for him was one thing. But you begging for him? Otherworldly. 

You opened your mouth again to argue with him, but your words escaped you when Lando pushed two fingers past your tight folds, his thumb rubbing slow circles over your clit. He took his time until eventually he was knuckles deep inside of you and all you could do was cling onto him for dear life, a quiet chorus of please and faster encouraged him to find a steady pace. 

Lando’s breath on your neck and his fingers sliding in and out of you had your legs giving out. If it wasn't for him physically holding up you’d be a goner. One particularly hard thrust upwards from him and the most beautiful moan echoed off the walls. He scissored his fingers against your walls, fighting back a groan himself when you clenched around him.

You were lost in your own little world that you didn’t even notice Lando trail his free hand up until it came to a stop where your jaw met your throat. His grip tightened, thumb finding your chin to tilt your face towards him as you rested on his shoulder. 

“So pretty,” he praised, dragging your lower lip down ever so slightly. You stared up at him, wide eyes, fluttered lashes, stammered breaths…a sight he wanted permanently seared into his mind. 

It wasn’t right. You should have been on your knees for him. It was his day, you wanted to show him just how proud you were, you wanted to congratulate him with his cock hitting the back of your throat until tears streamed down your cheeks.

But Lando loved this. You could celebrate your way later. Right now, he couldn’t ask for anything more.

He picked up the pace of his fingers, determined to bring you to the edge before you had to go to this fucking dinner. As far as Lando was concerned, he’d be happy enough with you as a meal. The mental image of you spread out on the bed as he dipped his head between your thighs was almost enough to convince him to call off the celebration tonight. 

Almost. 

Because the idea of being able to tease you throughout the rest of the evening was too good to pass up as well. 

You swallowed heavily, feeling the familiar build up in your core, that burning sensation spread through your veins. An awaiting euphoria that only Lando could deliver to you. 

His eyes darkened, recognizing the way your walls clenched around him in anticipation. His assault on your pussy quickened, the thrust of his fingers, his thumb over your clit, all of it was bringing you to the edge. 

So one could imagine, this was the worst time for there to be a knock on your hotel room door only a few feet away from you. 

Lando’s hand covered your mouth, knowing you were one who struggled to be quiet. Your eyes widened, your heart rate picking up and Lando only made the situation worse by not stopping. You could have sworn he sped up even.

He cleared his throat and called out to whoever was on the other side, waiting in the hall, “Yeah?”

“Just checking to see if you guys had left yet,” Charles' muffled voice came through the door. “Want to share a car?”

Lando, with a devious smirk on his face as his motions became stronger, rougher, happily answered knowing how much you were hating this. “We’d love to! We’ll be out in a moment, hang tight, mate.”

Charles said something else, something you didn’t catch as you were too focused on controlling your breaths behind Lando’s palm and praying that these walls were sound proof enough. 

This was horrid. Knowing your brother was right outside the door as Lando worked desperately to push you over the edge.

He trailed his lips to your ear, “I hope you're close, love. Would hate to keep him waiting.”

You nodded, your whole body quivering. You were so close. 

Lando slowly dropped his hand from your mouth, finding the look of sheer panic on your face to be amusing. 

“You can be quiet, can’t you?” He taunted, knowing damn well you couldn’t. 

“Lando-” it was hard to even get his name out, closing your jaw immediately when a moan threatened to escape next. 

Another harsh thrust of his fingers had your hips bucking against him. It was a stark contrast from the way his thumb softly grazed over your cheek, his eyes encouraging you to give in, let go. Lando certainly didn’t give a single shit if your brother heard. 

And you tried to be quiet, really. You bit the inside of your cheek as your orgasm hit you hard. Lando kept you steady and upright against his body, slowly working you through it. You fought with yourself to keep from shouting his name but there was nothing you could do about the angelic moan passing through your lips. Lando buried his face into the crook of your neck, a low rumble emitting from the back of his throat. 

When you stopped pulsating around his fingers, Lando slid them out of you. He kissed your neck and then your cheek and then tilted your face to kiss your lips, gently, lovingly, softly. It almost made you forget your brother was quite literally waiting for both of you.

“I hate you,” you whispered.

Lando rolled his eyes, “You can’t hate me today, I got a podium.”

“Then I hate you tomorrow.”

Lando nodded, “That’s fine.” He kissed your cheek again as you lifted yourself off of his shoulder. He patted your butt as you turned around, “Go change, I’ll stall.”

Usually he would opt to lick your juices clean off his fingers, but he decided washing his hands would probably be the best decision. He adjusted himself as much as best as he could before looking down the hallway, not letting himself get distracted as you slipped a skirt on.

Lando opened the door to the hotel and nodded at Charles who was leaning against the wall across the way, head down as he scrolled through his phone. Charles barely acknowledged him, avoiding his eyes as he muttered something about how the car was waiting outside.

You joined them in the hall a few minutes later. Lando looked you over once and then twice, eyes narrowing at your hair but not making a comment about how you probably could have brushed it again. He just played with it as you walked next to him, both of you hoping he could smooth it out enough before you reached the restaurant. 

Charles climbed into the front seat of the awaiting car while you and Lando climbed in the back. You attempted to make conversation with your brother, asking him about the debrief, but he wasn’t giving you anything in return. One word answers at most.

You pulled out your phone and texted Lando. He heard.

Lando snickered when he read your text, coming to that assumption as well with the way Charles avoided making eye contact. Instead of answering you, Lando slid his phone into his pocket and decided that the best thing to do would not be to let the situation simmer, but to bring the pot to a boil.

“Charles,” Lando cleared his throat, his hand dropping to your thigh. “It’s nice of you to join us tonight, really.”

Charles nodded, “Yeah, anytime.”

“Well I’m not you, you know? My podiums are quite far and few between so I like to celebrate when I can.” 

Charles nodded again as you shot Lando a warning look. He ignored it, of course, because at the end of the day you fell for someone who was more immature than they ever cared to admit.

“It’s nice that Y/N’s here too, to celebrate with her,” Lando added. You squeezed his hand harsher than needed and he winced in slight pain, but didn’t let up, even when Charles chose not to respond. “Yeah she’s a great motivator-”

“Please stop talking,” Charles finally said, pleaded, actually. You could see him raise his hands to his face, breathing deeply into it. His voice was muffled as he spoke, but the pain in his voice was clear as dear. “For the love of god, Lando. Stop talking.”

Lando burst out laughing as your cheeks turned a bright shade of red. 

“Charles-” you started.

“Nope,” he cut you off, staring directly ahead at the road in front of him. You could only imagine what the driver was thinking about this interaction. Charles refused to turn over his shoulder to look at either of you. 

“We didn’t-”

“Arrêtez de parler,” Charles repeated, asking you now to stop talking. “Dites à Lando que si j'entends encore cela, je mettrai le feu à sa voiture.” Tell Lando, if I ever hear that again I will set his car on fire.

“Quelle voiture?” Which car? Not that it really mattered, but you would have preferred if Charles didn’t commit a felony during a race weekend.

“The McLaren,” Charles answered, in English, to let Lando know he was talking about him and his car despite him not being aware of the threat that just came out of his mouth. 

Lando leaned in towards you, “What did he say?”

You shook your head, not wanting to dive into it right now and thanking your lucky stars when you pulled up outside the restaurant. Charles practically sprinted inside, bypassing Daniel and Carlos who tried to say hi to him. 

When the two of you stepped out, Daniel approached you with some concern, nodding his head towards the doors, “What’s up with Leclerc?”

“He heard us,” Lando answered point-blankly. He and Daniel were still incredibly close, you shouldn’t have been surprised at how honet Lando was.

“He heard you?” Daniel repeated. “What does that mean?”

“He heard us,” you said, more emphasis on the word of the hour without getting into too much detail. It took a second, but Daniel’s face was priceless as he dipped his head back and laughed. He had to cover his mouth with his hands to keep from making too loud of a scene. 

Lando slid his hand around your waist, pulling you into his side as Daniel’s laughing fit continued. You wanted to hide your face. Actually, no, you just wanted to hide. You didn’t want to make eye contact with your brother, ever again. 

“Poor kid,” Daniel managed to get out, still chuckling. “But hey, congrats I guess-”

You reached forward, hitting Daniel’s chest and he stepped back, hands up in defence.

“For the podium,” he clarified, still grinning from ear to ear. He adjusted the hem of his collar, sending a wink towards the British driver before turning and walking inside. You and Lando waited a second, watching as Carlos clearly asked Daniel what that was about but Daniel brushed it off, telling him to ask Charles.

You stepped forward, but Lando’s hand on your waist moved to your wrist as he pulled you back. His eyes scanned over your face, seeing your red cheeks, feeling the heat radiating from your skin, losing you to the anxious way your eyes darted everywhere.

“Hey,” he whispered, hands trailing up your arms. “I love you.”

You laughed, because how could you not? Only Lando would feel the need to assure you he loved you after practically being caught by your brother, which was, technically, Lando’s fault.

“I love you,” you repeated back. “But for both of our sakes, I hope you never get a podium ever again.”

“Ah,” Lando grinned, sarcasm already heavy on his tone. “My biggest motivator, such kind words.”

“I mean it.”

You didn’t, obviously. You wanted nothing more than to see Lando’s trophy shelf filled to the brim. You wanted to see him standing on top of the podium week after week. You wanted to get used to seeing him spray the champagne over the other drivers and the crowd.

But if this was going to become a regular thing, you were certainly going to need to change the way you celebrated. Or at least, you'd be sure to confirm that the walls were soundproof.

#lando norris #lando norris au #lando norris fic #f1 requests #f1 #f1 fic #formula 1 #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #holllandtrash #lando norris smut #6 to 1 series

[babyboydaniel]

Knock, Knock (M) | Part 1

Daniel Ricciardo x Fem!Reader | Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lando really needs to learn how to knock.

Smut, Fluff | Warnings: 18+, Fingering, Semi-Public, Masturbation, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, very slight Somnophilia | Word Count: 2K

Walking into the McLaren hospitality for the first time was nerve-wracking. You had been dating Daniel for over a year but you had not accompanied him to a race. Not that you did not want to. No, it was the opposite. Unfortunately, your job kept you busy, and your schedule never lined up with the race weekends. But work slowed down enough for you to fly out to Austin with Daniel. Giving you the chance to support him during one of his favorite races of the season.

Daniel held your hand in his, providing comfort as you walked through the building. Everyone seemed to want to stop and talk to him. Not that it surprised you. He is the type of person everyone gravitates towards. His warm and welcoming smile, the way his beautiful eyes concentrated when people talked. It is hard not to love him. You were head over heels, so you can’t blame them. But, as person after person came up to him, Daniel’s hand never left yours. Making sure you were close at all times. Smiling down at you when given the chance and introducing you to those you have never met.

Eventually, you made your way through the hoards of people and you found your way to Daniel’s driver’s room. It was small, but you welcomed the seclusion. You are not used to all the attention. Daniel and you were pretty private, keeping your relationship to yourselves. Whole heartedly loving each other in your own little bubble. Only letting a select few witness it. 

“Sorry, I did not expect that there would be so many people here by now,” Daniel apologized as he wrapped his arms around you. His beautiful amber eyes locking on to yours. 

You could get lost in them, spend hours just staring at him.

“It’s okay, it’s a good problem to have,” you responded, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Suppose so,” Daniel said as he dipped his head to capture your lips.

You sighed into the kiss. Your lips parted to take Daniel’s bottom lip between yours, gently sucking and biting it. Teasing him. Before pressing your lips back to his. Daniel moaned as he returned the gesture. Pulling your body flush against his. Using his lips and tongue to leave you absolutely breathless and compliant. 

Kissing Daniel was one of your favorite activities. It was all about give and take until he got fed up with your games and took all for himself, forcing you to submit to him. He knew exactly what to do to turn you into a utter mess. 

As Daniel grabbed your ass, pressing his semi to your covered core, you ground against him as you whined the sound of the door being opened caused you both to jump. 

“Daniel, are you in-.”

You glanced over Daniel’s shoulder to see who the intruder was. Your eyes met with Lando Norris, his hand still resting on the doorknob as he stood halfway in the doorway. His pink mouth hung open as his eyes shifted to Daniel’s arms still around your waist.

“Shit. Sorry, they just need us for some media, and I knocked a couple of times. You didn’t respond,” Lando rambled, his cheeks tinted pink. Cute, you thought. 

Turning to face him, Daniel laughed as he shook his head, “No worries, mate.”

It was at this moment that you could fully see Lando, now that Daniel was no longer blocking your line of sight. He looks like he did on TV. Devastatingly handsome but still holding onto that boyish charm. Unsurprisingly, he was wearing his papaya orange hoodie and black pants, even though it was hotter than the sun out. You smiled at him. He smiled back, a look of embarrassment still painted his features. 

As Daniel slipped his arm around your waist, he brought your attention back to him.

“Babe, as I am sure you know, this is Lando. Lando, this is Y/N, my girlfriend,” Daniel gestured between the two of you as he introduced you.

“Hi,” you responded, stretching out your hand to shake.

Lando took your hand in his. Wow, his hands are big, floated through your mind as his slender fingers covered yours. 

“Nice to meet you,” he mused. His fingers softly trailed over your skin as he pulled his hand back to rest at his side. His gaze not leaving yours. Questioning, but assured. He smirked. 

Daniel cleared his throat, “Alrighty, now that we all know each other, I guess we should go get that media stuff done.”

Lando nodded and turned to leave the two of you to say your goodbyes.

Daniel pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “I will be back as soon as possible.”

You smiled up at your loving boyfriend and kissed him one last time before you pushed him out the door. Once alone, you flung yourself onto the small sofa in the room with a groan. Your mind wandered to Lando and his hands, how he looked at you, and the blush on his cheek when he walked in on you. Did he hear you moan? He had to. For some reason that made you feel hot, your thighs pressing togther at the thought. 

Get it together, you chastised. You barely know the guy, and you were in a loving committed relationship. Fuck, the last thing you need is to be thinking about Lando. Especially when you were here to cheer on your boyfriend, Daniel. You pressed your palms against your eyes, hoping to erase the images from your mind. 

You were not up to walking around by yourself, and it seemed like there was no better time to catch up on the book you were reading. So, with the novel in hand you curled up on the couch. In a couple turns of the page you were sleeping. You awoke to Daniel running his fingers through your hair and softly calling your name. Your eyes slowly opened, and Daniel’s face came into focus.

“There she is,” he murmured.

You smiled at him, leaning into his touch, “Sorry, I guess the lack of sleep caught up with me.”

Daniel chuckled, “Don’t worry about it, babe. I am sorry I can’t be here to entertain you as much.”

You shook your head, “No need to apologize,” you understood that he had other priorities on race weekends.

“Did you enjoy your nap?” he questioned as he maneuvered you so you were snuggled into his lap.

Instinctually, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders as you nuzzled into his neck. You nodded your head. Daniel’s arms pulled you in tighter as he ran a hand up and down your back, comforting you. The two of you sat like that for a long time, you almost falling back asleep. Until a ding from Daniel’s phone broke through the quiet. Daniel shuffled under you to reach for his phone, stilling once he finally got it. He sighed.

“Fuck,” he grumbled, “they scheduled a last-minute interview in 15 minutes.”

“Boooo,” you joked. 

“I am sorry, babe. But I have to take off again,” he continued.

“I get it,” you mumbled, lips still pressed to his neck.

Daniel pulled you close, pressing a tender kiss to your temple before shifting you off his lap. With a kiss to your lips, Daniel was off again.

You picked up your book to continue where you left off but after a couple of steamy pages your mind had wandered elsewhere. The nerves from the morning had finally worn off and you began to think about your morning with Daniel. Your core throbbing just at the thought of it. You had woken up with his dick pressed into your back and his hand cupping your pussy. As you shook the sleep off, Daniel began rubbing your clit. Using your wetness to get you off. You were moaning and panting in no time, moving closer and closer to the edge. Begging him to fuck you or at the very least put his fingers in you. Then his fucking alarm went off, and Daniel immediately removed his hands from you. Fumbling to turn off the alarm and swung his legs over the bed.

“Daniel,” you had whined, “you aren’t going to finish what you started?”

Daniel looked down at you guiltily, “Fuck, sorry! We are so late, and I have media duties right when I get there.”

You sighed as you frustratedly fell against the pillows and glared at your boyfriend.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he reasoned.

So, you were forced to get ready and head to the track without a release. No longer feeling like you were going to throw up from anxiety your need to get off came back tenfold. Since Daniel denied you earlier, the least you can do is finger yourself while waiting for him to come back. Sucks to be him. 

With your mind made up, you laid back against the arm of the sofa with your legs spread open on the cushions. The cold air sent a shiver up your spine. As you got comfortable, you ran your hands over your breasts, gently massaging them before focusing your attention on your nipples. Your thumbs rubbed over the growing buds. You let out a breathy moan. You needed more.

Lucky for you, you wore a dress, easy access, as Daniel would say. Grabbing the hem of the dress, you pushed it up until it was bunched under your armpits. Your sheer white underwear on full display. You shivered just at the thought of Daniel seeing you like that. Spread out and on display for him. Your hands were back on your breasts. Pulling them from the confines of your bra. Your nipples hardened once touched by the cold air. Just that was enough to make you gasp. As one hand played and tugged at your nipples, your other hand trailed down until it met the edge of your underwear, teasing yourself.

You lightly brushed over your covered slit. Barely touching your clit throught the thin fabric. Just enough for you to want more. To work yourself up until you cannot take it any longer. You moaned louder this time. Biting your lip, you glanced towards the door. The thought of someone walking by or hearing you flitted through your mind. But, you were too turned on to stop. So, you pressed against your clit a little harder, imagining that Daniel was touching you.

You could feel your underwear begin to get wet where your juices dripped from you. It was only then that you allowed yourself to push your underwear around your thighs and touch your clit. The whine that left your mouth would have been heard if anyone was walking by. That only spurred you on more. Wanting people to hear how gone you were for your boyfriend, even when he is not the one touching you. Slowly, you circled that orgasmic bundle of nerves, edging yourself while your other fingers pushed into you. The feeling was euphoric. Not as good as when Daniel did it, but you took what you could at the moment. The sound of how wet you were as your fingers pumped turned you on more. Your arousal was obvious and the room smell like it. It was intoxicating while you increased the speed of your fingers pumping into you and rubbing your clit faster as you were quickly approaching your orgasm.

“Fuck,” you moaned.

Your fingers pressed against your G-spot, and it was all over. With your back arched and toes curled, you heard the door open. Your eyes were wide as you peeked to your right. Meeting the gaze of the onlooker. But you could not stop as your orgasm racked your body. You were coming as your release leaked out around your fingers. A strangled moan fell from your lips.

“Fuck,” they whispered, their lustful blue eyes locked on your dripping fingers still stuffed in your pussy.

You squealed as it finally sunk in that Lando Norris witnessed you coming all over your fingers.

At the noise, his eyes moved to look at you, tongue reaching out to wet his lips. He smirked at you.

What the fuck were you going to tell Danny, you thought.

Part 2

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo fic #danny ric #lando norris #lando norris smut #lando norris imagine #lando norris fic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 smut #daniel ricciardo x reader #lando norris x reader

[soulofapatrick]

Whispers in the Storm - Sanji x Female Reader

Summary: You wake from getting injured, wanting no-one but Sanji

Words: 2k

Warnings: none

Y/N’s POV 

I wake with a jolt, a sharp pang slicing through my side. Groggy. From sleep, I wince and shift, trying to find a comfortable position. But there’s no escaping the persistent ache that throbs across my entire left side. I tentatively touch the source of the pain and recoil at the tenderness. A massive bruise spans the expanse of my left side when I lift the shirt I’m in, seeping discomfort with every moment. I’m a galaxy of deep blues, purples, reds, greens and oranges. 

Confusion clouds my thoughts; I can’t remember how I got this injury. The events leading up to this moment remain shrouded in a foggy haze. I’m guessing we fought Arlong, it was probably during that. I wouldn’t be surprised as I remember Nami crying, Luffy placing his trusty hat on her head and then nothing. My mind races, attempting to piece together fragmented memories that elude me. 

Pushing through the discomfort, I stagger to my feet, crying out in pain that leaves me temporarily breathless. The sound has Nami and Robin stirring from their bunks, glancing at each other before shifting their gazes towards me. Nami’s concerned gaze meets mine, her eyes widening at the sight of my injuries, as if only seeing them for the first time now. Without a word, she rushes over to me, slipping an arm around me to steady my very unsteady form. Her touch is gentle, though every movement sends a fresh wave of pain rippling through me. 

“Where do you need to go?” She doesn’t try to tell me to rest, knowing I’m not going to, her voice soothing, a contrast to the turmoil of pain coursing through me. 

“Sanji.” I manage to whisper, the name escaping my lips almost instinctively, just wanting my best friend right now. Despite the agony of moment, there’s an inexplicable comfort in knowing he might be able to help, his care a balm for the turmoil within me. 

With a single nod, Nami supports most of my weight as we navigate the ship’s corridors. Each step feels like traversing a minefield, my breath hitching with every jarring movement and tears prickle my eyes. The bruises paint an intricate canvas of agony, the hues of pain etches into my skin, a mosaic of suffering that extends from my left armpit to my left knee. 

The journey feels endless, every inch an ordeal as we finally reach Sanji’s quarters. Nami gently knocks on the door before there’s shuffling on the other side and then it swings open, revealing a very sleepy Sanji. 

He looks so good and even through the pain I can’t deny it that I am head over heels for him. He’s standing in the doorway in only a pair of loose fitting trousers that are desperately clinging to his sharp hips, hanging dangerously low and flashing some of his v-line. He’s shirtless, pale skin for all to see and abs all I can stare at until Nami and Sanji snap me out of it. 

Sanji's sleep-ridden expression fades instantly, replaced by a deep concern that's mirrored in his stormy grey eyes. They widen with distress at the sight of my battered state, and without a second thought, he steps forward, taking me gently from Nami's support.

“Thank you, Nami.” He murmurs gratefully, his attention solely focused on me. With careful guidance, he helps me settle on the edge of his bed, his movements gentle as he ensures I’m comfortable. The room is bathed in a soft glow as he switches on the light, illuminating the galaxy of bruises that paint my skin. 

Kneeling in fronton me, Sanji’s brows furrow in worry, his hands hovering hesitantly over the colourful expanse of injuries on my thighs that he can see. His touch is feather-light, as if afraid to cause any more discomfort, “Oh Mouse,” his voice is soft, filled with genuine concern, the nickname he has for me a warmth in my cheeks, “How far does it..?” He trails off, as if scared to know. 

Sanji's eyes widen as I remove my shirt, wincing the whole way, revealing the full extent of the bruise. But instead of any hint of intrusion or averted gaze, his reaction catches me off guard. There's a mix of emotions swirling in his eyes—concern, a tinge of anguish, and a depth of care that goes beyond what I expected. His gaze doesn't linger on my body, instead, it's fixated on the mosaic of colours that mar my skin. 

“Oh Mouse,” He utters again, “I’m so sorry.” He whispers, voice thick with emotion, his fingers trembling slightly as he reaches out to touch the tender expanse of bruises. His touch is feather-light, cool against my burning skin. A gasp escaping me at the unexpected tenderness of his gesture. In that moment, his usual suave demeanour fades, replaced by a raw vulnerability that tugs at my heartstrings. Without a word, he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to the bruised skin of my stomach. It’s a gentle and intimate touch, filled with a depth of care that sends shivers down my spine. 

My hand instinctively moves, carding through his fluffy blond hair, a silent reassurance that his presence alone is a soothing balm amidst the pain. His lips linger for a moment longer, a gesture that speaks volumes, conveying a sense of comfort and empathy that words fail to capture. 

As he pulls away, his gaze meets mine, a silent understanding passing between us, that unspoken bond enough for him to know what I need. Climbing to his feet, he moves with purpose, rummaging through a chest of belongings until he finds an old tee-shirt form his days at the Barite restaurant ship. The shirt carries a faint scent of the sea and memories of his past, a comforting familiarity in the midst of chaos. 

With a gentle care, he helps me slide into the soft fabric, its oversized fit providing a sense of comfort and warmth. Tenderly, he assists me in laying down on my right side, ensuring I’m as comfortable as possible. His actions speaking volumes, a silent promise of being there through the night, offering solace and support in this moment of vulnerability. 

As I settle on the bed, he joins me without hesitation, mirroring my position so we’re facing each other. His presence beside me feels like a sanctuary, a haven of comfort amidst the storm of pain. His gaze lingers, a silent reassurance that I’m not alone in this and he reaches out, caressing my cheek gently, a gesture so intimate I feel my cheeks heat up. 

“What happened with Arlong?” The words escape my lips, tinged with curiosity and an undertone of confusion about the events still. 

Sanji’s expression shifts, a flicker of surprise knitting his brows together again, “You don’t remember?” His voice carries a hint of concern, registering my confusion with a palpable worry. 

I shake my head, frustration and unease bubbling within as the foggy tendrils of memory refuse to weave into a coherent narrative, “It’s all a blur.” I confess, the frustration now seeping into my tone. 

His eyes widen slightly, a mix of disbelief and concern etched across his features, “You… you saved Zoro.” The gravity of his revelation hung heavy in the air, momentarily stunning me with its weight. 

“I did?" My voice was barely a whisper, laced with disbelief that danced on the edges of the fragmented memories I desperately tried to grasp. 

“Yeah, you shoved Zoro out of the way and took the blow yourself,” There’s a rare mixture of admiration and worry in his voice as he recounts the events, “You were thrown into one of the funfair stalls. You were unconscious until now.” Snji fills in the gaps with a gentleness that belies the gravity of his words, his concern palpable in every syllable. 

The realisation washed over me in a tumultuous wave, a blend of awe and disbelief that swirled within. Despite the haze that clouded my memory, a sense of pride swelled—a pride that stemmed from the knowledge that I had instinctively acted to protect a fellow crewmate. Yet, the hollow spaces in my recollection left an unsettling feeling, a disorientation in not being able to piece together the entirety of the sequence.

“I was so worried.” He admits, voice barely above a whisper, a tremor of concern evident in his whisper, and I grip the wrist of the hand that has be continuously caressing my cheek, stilling it to press a gentle kiss to his palm. 

Our eyes meet again, his stormy grey gaze locking with mine in a moment that feels suspended in time. The hand that had rested on my cheek moves to gently grip my chin, a tender yet hesitant gesture. He leans in, his lips hovering close to mine, a vulnerability creeping into his nervous actions which is very un-Sanji-like. 

“Stop me if I’ve misread this.” His words linger in the charged air between us, a plea for consent, for assurance that his actions and feelings aren’t one sided. 

Without hesitation, I close the remaining gap, letting his uncertainty with a softness that brides the unspoken gap. Our lips brush in a tentative yet tender kiss, a silent affirmation that speaks volumes, quieting his nervous ramblings. 

The moment our lips meet, its as if a surge of warmth envelopes us, an electric current coursing through the connection. His lips are soft against mine, a gentle touch that holds a world of tenderness. There’s a subtle sweetness to the taste, a mixture of salt from the sea air and a faint hint of the tea he brewed tirelessly in the kitchen. 

As our kiss deepens, a sense of familiarity washes over me, as if this moment has been waiting months to unfold. His breath mingles with mine, a rhythm that feels strangely synchronised, each exhale carrying the weight of worries and uncertainties that had haunted the edges of my consciousness. 

In Sanji’s tender embrace, there’s an unspoken language—his touch conveying a yearning for reassurance, a desire to meet halfway, while mine echoes an affirmation of understanding and reciprocation. The intimacy of the kiss speaks of shared emotions, a quiet proclamation of trust and affection that transcends the chaos of our surroundings. 

The closeness, the warmth of his presence, the way his fingers trace gentle paths along my side—it all stirs a whirlwind of emotions within me. It isn’t just the softness of his lips or the taste of salt and familiarity; it’s the way he makes me feel—safe; understood, and cared for in a way that goes beyond words. 

As our lips part, Sanji’s grey eyes meet mine, filled with an intensity that speaks volumes, carrying an ocean of emotions within their depths. There’s a softness in his gaze, a tenderness that seems to overflow with an unspoken declaring of affection. 

“Fuck, I have to say it, I was so scared I was going to lose you,” he chokes out, “I love you," the words escape him in a gentle whisper, sincere and heartfelt, before he leans in to brush another soft kiss against my lips. It's a fleeting yet tender affirmation of his feelings, a gesture that speaks louder than words.

The kiss lingers for a moment, a silent reassurance of mutual emotions before Sanji breaks away, his expression soft yet determined. "We should try to get some sleep," he suggests, his voice carrying a tone of care and consideration.

His suggestion hangs in the air, a gentle invitation to rest, to seek solace in the quietude of slumber amidst the chaos that had engulfed us. With a soft nod, I acknowledge his words, feeling a sense of warmth and contentment settle within me—the residual echoes of his declaration of love resonating within the quiet moments that followed.

“I love you too Sanji.” 

One Piece Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

#vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #one piece #one piece sanji #one piece x reader #one piece fluff #one piece angst #one piece smut #one piece live action #one piece netflix #straw hat pirates #sanji x reader #sanji x reader fluff #sanji fluff #sanji smut #sanji angst #sanji x y/n #sanji x you #sanji vinsmoke #taz skylar

[simplydnp]

WAD: Cover Art

dan is still working on selling the distribution rights for We're All Doomed! so i decided to make some DVD/Blu-ray disc jacket art!

this is my attempt at a traditional jacket design! none of the images used are mine, but i did create the concept and design:

as i was making the first one for myself, i was struck by the fact that 'well, it's for me, so it doesn't have to look like a stereotypical jacket cover' which led me to be more artsy in my approach for the next one:

i was really enjoying the creativity and space to explore, so i went looking for more inspiration for a third design. this led me to dan's favourite Muse album: Origin of Symmetry, which i paid homage to:

after the first Muse album, i looked at their catalogue to see if there was more inspiration there. i was just thankful dan's favourite was easy stylistically to mimic, unlike say, 2009's The Resistance...

thank you @danielhowell for the inspiration!

nerdy stuff & reference pics below the cut!

General notes

i don't know how to use photoshop! i entirely brute-forced my way through the whole project, and the only tutorial i looked up was for the gradient text in the 4th cover

this wasn't even the original project i was working on! you'll eventually get to see that though

and this one also inspired art for the disc itself so stay tuned 👀

i will do anything for authenticity so these are Full of intentional details

matching fonts is a nightmare

the traditional cover

took the longest, as it was the first.

the barcode numbers are the date of the first video he uploaded on dinof, and the last tour show date (in m/d/y)

i changed 'iceland' to 'poland' on the front cover, as he never actually went to iceland, and poland wasn't ever on the list even though he did go there

the orange may look a little off-center in the front, but these designs need to include space for a spine between the front and back cover, i promise it's right 😂

the black and white cover

inspired by the 'i want to believe' aliens poster

the cover art comes from his metal band merch shirt design

i had to manually shrink the text, line by line, and ensure it all lined up on the back!

i even made the logos on the back greyscale

the Muse: Origin of Symmetry cover

a shockingly perfect style for a WAD cover. i'm so glad i used the cubes, even if they couldn't be orange.

there's some versions of the art online where the sky is even more orange and it baffles me how i haven't seen any parallels like this before

the Muse: The Resistance cover

this cover was never supposed to see the light of day! i meant it when i said i was grateful i didn't have to try to adapt this complex design... and yet, i tried anyway.

i did all the grid lines by hand, including the jagged/broken edge parts, shading each section, and then drawing every star.

the hardest part was getting the gradient on the back text to cooperate. photoshop's gradient settings are surprisingly limited

gotta shout out @amazingphil for being the reason i knew what this cover looked like--it's the only muse album i knew the art of before embarking on this quest!

obligatory sob story:

i've been extremely and suddenly ill for 6 months. it is difficult to function moment to moment, but especially in doing little things just for me. this is the first and only art project i've been able to feel inspired to not only work on, but to finish, and despite the pain and long hours, i enjoyed every minute of it. thank you, dan, for creating this space for me to explore, and thank you, everyone here, for being wonderful support during this time 💞

#it's finally here!! i hope you all love them as much as i do #dnp #c.text #dan and phil #daniel howell #phan art #hey phil look at this #we're all doomed #wad #c.art #word

[dreamwritesimagines]

Garden of Secrets - Epilogue

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support throughout the story my darlings! I hope you enjoy the epilogue as well, ILYSM! ❤️

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of sex.

Thank you to @theskytraveler for helping me with the story and the chapter!

Series Masterlist

3 YEARS LATER

“And this flower right here is called a mock orange, any idea why?”

The cheerful babbling was the only answer you got and you felt yourself smiling wide, turning to look at her better. Camellia was the cutest baby you’d ever seen and you were pretty sure it wasn’t just because she was the most perfect combination of you and Benedict. The only person in your life that remembered you as a baby was Josie, and she swore up and down that she looked more like you than Benedict but you weren’t so sure.

“Very good!” you said. “Because it looks like an orange flower!”

Camellia clapped her hands excitedly, as if congratulating herself for guessing right, kicking her legs back and forth in her high chair, accidentally dropping one of the many pencils on the table in front of her but she didn’t even notice.

“And what about this one?”

“Fwo?”

“Flower, yes,” you said, nodding fervently and she gave you a huge grin. You went to pick her up from the chair and approached the table in the middle of the huge greenhouse.

 “This is your flower my sweet, see? Middlemist Red Camellia.”

She gasped when she heard her name. “Me!”

“Mm hm, the most beautiful and precious flower in the entire world!” you said, tickling her stomach while kissing her cheeks, making her happy giggles echo in the greenhouse. You fixed her hair, still smiling bright and took a look at the paper she was drawing on before, full of different colored squiggly lines.

“Perhaps your papa is right, you are to be a big artist,” you said as you walked to the glass door. “A painter like him hm?”

“Papa!”

“And your aunt Lottie says you will be a writer and your uncle Teddy says you’ll be a sculptor…” you said as you stepped out of the greenhouse into the huge garden, the sunlight falling upon you. You grabbed the little hat by the door and placed it upon Camellia’s head while she held onto you, playing with your necklace.

“So many ideas!” you told her as you passed by the winter garden, enjoying the chirping of the birds. A couple of butterflies flew by you, no doubt because you were very close to the butterfly garden and Camellia held her breath, pointing at the blue butterfly.

“Mama!”

“I can see that my love,” you said, pressing a kiss on her small chubby hand, and walked past the orangery. “They’re very beautiful, are they not?”

She nodded fervently, making grabby hand motions as if trying to call the butterflies to her.

“Anyway, as I was saying,” you said, still walking through the main garden. “They all think like that but do you want to know what I think?”

She nodded her head again, still listening to you very intently.

“I think you might just become the biggest botanist in the world,” you whispered. “I mean it only makes sense, no? You already know so many flowers!”

Camellia pointed at the pear tree and turned to you. “Mine? Mine?”

“Let’s get you one then,” you said with a small laugh, reaching up to grab and pick the pear off the branch. You dusted it off, then gave it to Camellia who made a happy cooing sound, trying to dig into it. You raised your head to look up at the house, a warmth spreading through you as your gaze fell upon the window of Benedict’s studio, then you turned to Camellia.

“Let’s go see papa, hm?” you asked her, then made your way to the house to enter the foyer. You hummed a song and climbed up the stairs, then put Camellia down when you entered the hallway leading to Benedict’s studio.

“Go ahead.”

“Papa?” Camellia called out, running as fast as her tiny legs allowed her, reminding you of a duck. She was still holding the pear tight in her fist, and you walked right behind her to make sure you would be able to catch her if she fell. “Papa!”

You let out a laugh as you heard Benedict’s footsteps and he stepped out of the studio, his jaw dropping as he saw her and he immediately leaned down to catch her before she could smash herself against his legs.

“Oh here’s my sweet!” he said as he hoisted her up into his arms, smothering her in kisses, making her giggle happily before he turned to you, that fond look crossing his eyes, a soft smile curling his lips.

“Hello my love.”

You smiled, and stood on your tiptoes to kiss him. “Hello to you too,” you said, letting out a small laugh as he stole another kiss from you. “I figured you needed a break or so.”

“And you were right,” he said, winking at you before turning to Camellia. “How is she always right, do you know?”

Camellia offered him the pear she was holding and Benedict gasped.

“For me?”

“More like it was for her but she’s willing to share,” you said and Benedict grinned.

“Come on,” he nodded in the direction of the studio and walked inside with Camellia in his arms, and you followed them.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” you sang in a teasing manner, pulling the hat off Camellia’s head and Benedict shot you a mischievous look.

“Mm, what am I doing?”

“You think you can turn her into an artist if she spends enough time here.”

“I can’t help if she’s naturally talented,” Benedict defended himself. “I mean have you seen her work?”

“The…the squiggly lines?”

“The squiggly lines!” Benedict nodded, rocking Camellia. “She’s a genius artist even as a one-year-old.”

“I still support my botanist theory.”

“Maybe she’ll be both?”

“As you can see my sweet, no high expectations whatsoever,” you told Camellia who was listening to both of you as if she could understand everything you were saying.

“You can be anything you want to be,” Benedict told her as she rested her head on his shoulder, yawning. “Including an artist. Just saying.”

You walked closer to the canvas to see that the background was almost done, and tilted your head.

“What’s this going to be?”

Benedict shot you a grin and pressed his lips on top of Camellia’s hair. You checked the clock on the wall, then rang the bell.

“That one is going to be her,” Benedict said, softly rocking her and you smiled.

“Aw,” you said gently, and walked to caress her soft cheek with your finger. “Did you hear that my sweet? Your own portrait?”

Camellia sucked on her thumb, her eyes closing slowly.

“Is she sleeping?” Benedict whispered and you nodded.

“She is,” you murmured, rubbing her back and turned your head when someone knocked on the door.

“Ma’am,” Paula said. “Mr. Bridgerton. Would you like me to take her for her nap?”

“That would be good Paula, thank you.”

She smiled and took Camellia from Benedict, careful not to wake her.

“I’ll be right there,” you told her and pressed a kiss on Camellia’s head before Paula walked out of the room with her. You turned to Benedict and he entwined his fingers with yours, pulling you into his arms.

“Hey,” you said as he buried his nose into your hair. “Is everything alright?”

“Mm hm, now that you’re here.”

You smiled softly and squeezed his arm. “Are you still tense about the gala?”

He heaved a sigh and you pulled back a little to look up at him.

“Ben, that painting got auctioned and sold in two minutes because everyone was outbidding each other,” you reminded him. “People are talking about you the same way you used to talk about Gordon, everyone agrees that you’re a genius artist, the whole ton—”

“Yeah but it’s different,” he mumbled. “Tonight, it’s only friends and family.”

“Shouldn’t that be comforting?”

“Technically yes but…” he trailed off and shook his head slightly. “Never mind.”

You cupped his cheek, raising your brows. “Tell me.”

“It’s easier when it’s just strangers,” he said with a small chuckle. “Museum owners and Academy directors and such. It’s different when it’s family and friends, and I’d hate it if they thought all those other people exaggerated—”

“Everyone in the Academy and countless artists and museum owners who were on the verge of a fight to get your painting, they all exaggerated?” you asked with a small smile. “All of those people at the same time?”

Benedict thought for a moment. “When you say it like that…”

You let out a laugh and stood on your tiptoes to brush your lips against his, and he heaved a sigh when you pulled back, resting his forehead against yours, his fingers caressing the sensitive skin of your neck.

“Tonight is going to be amazing,” you assured him. “I promise you.”

He shot you a mischievous grin, then leaned down hoisted you up into his arms, making you squeal.

“Benedict!”

“There’s no harm in starting the amazing night a bit early,” he said as he carried you to the sofa and you let out a laugh.

“Scandalous behavior!” you joked and he winked at you, then leaned in to kiss you.

                                                *

Of course the night of the gala went perfectly, as you knew it would. Both your family and Benedict’s had been so excited and were very proud of him, and you could see it melted away the last insecurity that had been gnawing at him before tonight.

His speech that he dedicated the painting -and his inspiration- to you was enough to bring tears into your eyes but you managed to hide it by burying your face into his arm, earning an “aww” from the crowd. After the speech, people scattered along in the gallery to talk to each other, and if you said so yourself, everyone seemed to be having fun. Benedict was talking to Gordon, Henry, Margery and Lucy by the corner, Anthony and Lottie looked like they were in their own world while Colin kept whispering things to Penelope’s ear, making her giggle. Eloise seemed to be in a deep conversation with Simon while Daphne watched them with a small smile, and you smiled at Lady Bridgerton and Lady Danbury as Teddy wheezed past you.

“Teddy don’t run!” you called out and he stopped for a moment.

“But I’m being very careful!” he assured you and returned to chasing Hyacinth and Gregory. Your aunt held up her hands, gesturing surrender as she gave him a fond look and your uncle chuckled.

“If he changes his mind about being a sculptor…”

“He can become a professional runner,” you joked and turned to Josie and Bess.

“So yes, we’re going to Paris before the season,” you told them. “Around like a month before, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Andrew will give you a list of things to bring from there, just so you know,” Bess said said and you let out a laugh.

“I’m alright with that. Wait, where is he anyway?”

Josie cleared her throat. “I think he and Felix are in the orangery—”

“The moon garden, my love,” Bess corrected her and you raised your brows, stifling a laugh.

“Of course they are,” you muttered and heard someone calling your name. You turned your head to see who it was, then made your way to Lottie and Anthony.

“Hello you two.”

“Y/N,” she said with a huge smile, still holding Anthony’s hand. “We already said goodnight to Benedict, we didn’t want to leave before saying goodnight to you.”

You tilted your head. “You’re leaving already?” you asked. “Is everything alright? Is Edmund—”

“Oh Edmund is fine!” she assured you quickly and Anthony nodded.

“He’s probably asleep already.”

“It’s just—I tire very easily nowadays,” Lottie said, making you pull your brows together. Anthony and Lottie exchanged smiles and Lottie bounced on the balls of her feet in an excited manner, making your frown deepen for a moment before the thought dawned on you and your jaw dropped.

“Are you serious?!” you whispered and Lottie giggled, nodding fervently.

“You’re the first to know,” she whispered and you let out a laugh, then pulled her into a hug.

“Congratulations!”

“Thank you!”

“To both of you obviously—” you said with a laugh, then hugged Anthony as well, making him chuckle as he hugged you back.

“We haven’t told Benedict yet,” he told you as you pulled back. “You know with the gala and everything.”

“Oh he will be very happy for you!” you said and Lottie bit on her lip.

“I wish to be the one to tell him if that’s alright.”

“Absolutely!” you said, waving your hands. “Go on then, go home and rest. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“You’d better,” Lottie joked and squeezed your hand, then they both walked out of the gallery. You looked around, then took a step towards Eloise but someone touched the small of your back, making you look up.

“Well if it isn’t the genius artist,” you teased Benedict and he shot you a happy grin.

“Come with me?”

“As long as we’re not going to the moon garden because if I walk in on them again…” you muttered and he tilted his head.

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” you said and let him pull you out of the gallery. You both passed through the foyer and he led you outside, still holding your hand.

“Ben, where are we going?” you asked with a laugh and he stopped by the main garden, moonlight falling upon you both, showering the gardens in silver. Even though it was the thousandth time you were seeing this gorgeous view, it still managed to take your breath away.

Speaking of things that managed to take your breath away…

You looked up at Benedict, his handsome face under the moonlight, your heart skipping a beat before you giggled.

“Are we sneaking out of your own gala then?”

Benedict shot you a mischievous smile, then shook his head.

“No I merely…I wanted a moment with you,” he said. “Just you.”

You bit down on your lip as he pulled you closer, his fingers stroking over your hair. Your eyes fluttered close when he brushed his lips against yours and you smiled into the kiss, grazing your nails over the nape of his neck, making him heave a sigh.

“Congratulations Mr. Bridgerton,” you whispered. “Your gala seems to be a success.”

He smiled softly, pressing his lips on your temple. “Seems to be, Mrs. Bridgerton.”

You hummed. “Is it too early to say I told you so?”

He chuckled. “I don’t think so.”

“Well then, I told you so,” you said, sticking your nose up in the air. “And you should listen to me all the time because to be honest, so far I’ve—”

“I love you,” he said, and your eyes snapped up to his, a smile warming your face. You let out a giggle and pulled him down so that you could kiss him.

“I love you too,” you whispered and entwined your fingers with his, then took a step towards the house.

“Come on,” you said. “It is your gala my love. Let’s go and enjoy it.”

The End.

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #regency fic

[irisintheafterglow]

hii iris!! being one of my fav writers, i was wondering if it would be okay to please request you write something halloween related between Satoru and reader while they're in a lowkey relationship and instructors at jujutsu tech? maybe he drags reader and the students on some night of shenanigans? up to u, i just love how u write and i feel you'd kill this hehe

thank u so much! have an awesome day!

life's no fun without a good scare

summary: you have the brilliant idea of playing hide and seek in a corn maze against the most powerful sorcerer in the world. should be fun, right?

wc: 2.6k

cw/tags: fluff and crack and crack and fluff, established relationship, swearing (a lot of it, you'll see why lol), mentions of eating, angst if you squint, co-parenting megumi AND his friends!!

note: AAAA hi!! thank you so much for the love omg :')) i hope you like this, i definitely enjoyed writing it even though i did get a tad carried away lol. GOD this was so fun to write, thank you for suggesting it

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3 thank you for your support!!

“I’m going to eat so much candy, I’ll throw up.”

“What’re those tubs over there?”

“They’re for waterboarding Itadori,” Megumi deadpans without hesitation, clearly misrepresenting the apple bobbing game just ahead. You state his name warningly, like he was six years old again, and he mutters a half-hearted apology under his breath. “Maybe we switch out the victim for our esteemed teacher, instead.” You cover a snort with an unsuccessful cough. Even though you’d practically raised him, his jabs at Satoru never lost their humor. 

“Your suggestion will be taken into careful consideration,” you say, “though it will become more of a possibility if he continues to run on Satoru-time.” Nobara hums in agreement, kicking a stray piece of hay with her toe while you continue to progress through the general admission line to the pumpkin patch. Your fashionably-late boyfriend had sent you a very cryptic text at noon, instructing you to “pack up the kids and take them to the following address.” When you replied with a chain of question marks, he sent an infuriatingly unserious GIF that had you pinching the bridge of your nose.

“What time did he tell you?”

“5:00.” You check your phone preemptively, already anticipating the followup question. 

“And what time is it now?”

“5:20,” you sigh, sliding your card across the shelf of the ticket booth and receiving four orange wristbands in return. After slipping them onto the wrists of your three unofficial children, Itadori and Nobara immediately disappear into the crowd; Megumi, however, stays plastered to your shoulder and makes his distaste for the bustling festival known. You scan nearby groups of people for a tall idiot with white hair with no luck. If Satoru still showed up, he would have to pay for admission himself. “Let’s grab a table and find me a bottle of soju–”

“Barely twenty minutes and you’re already drinking? Since when did Shoko replace my lovely partner?” Satoru’s sing-song voice calls out from behind you, like he’d been standing with you the entire time. Despite your attempts to remain irritated at him, you can’t resist when he turns you around, lacing his fingers with yours and pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek. “Hi, gorgeous. What took you so long?”

“I assumed you were running late, like you always do,” you argue futilely, the world melting away when you catch his eyes over the rims of his sunglasses. “Is this not too overwhelming for you? Having so many energy signatures in one place?”

“I’ll be fine,” he assures you with a confident wave of his hand. “After all, I have your energy to ground me.” Your legs start to feel a bit gelatinous when you hear a very obvious throat clearing itself and suddenly remember that Megumi is still standing there. “Shouldn’t you be on the playground or something, my dear student?”

“Shouldn’t you be on the playground or something, my questionable teacher?” You burst out laughing and your boyfriend’s jaw drops in indignance, gearing up to say something just as childish. On instinct, you cover his mouth with your hand, recoiling in disgust when his tongue darts out to lick your palm. “Gross. I’m gonna find my friends.” 

“Don’t do anything dumb!” The boy waves his hand dismissively and you roll your eyes. In a different universe where he actually was the child of you and Satoru, he had his father’s sass gene. 

“He’s used to this by now, isn’t he?” Satoru chuckles and it reverberates against your body, making your head spin in lovesick circles.

“I’d imagine so, seeing as we did raise him like this,” you answer, letting him start to guide you toward whatever stand interests him first, his arm draped over your shoulders. “Do you think Yuuji and Nobara have figured it out?”

“If Megs hasn’t told them, then definitely not,” he states with utmost certainty, looking over one of the games with all the concentration of a hunting tiger. In the middle of the stall was a large pool of water, and swirling around in it were small, colorful bowls in the shape of blooming flowers. The goal, you guessed, was to land a small ball in a certain color and get a corresponding prize from the lineup hanging overhead. It was truly an enticing array of stuffed animals, too, from wolves and monkeys to dinosaurs and little princess dolls. “Which one do you want?”

“Hmm? What do you mean?” 

“Choose a prize and I’ll get it for you, guaranteed.” 

“Guaranteed? You do know these are designed to scam you, right?”

“And I am designed to do whatever you want, so take your pick.” After a moment of consideration, you point to a stuffie of a black cat wearing a pumpkin costume. “Cute choice.”

“It reminds me of Megs.” He laughs and pulls his arm back, stretching his neck from side to side and handing a few dollars to the game attendant. It was all for show and completely unnecessary, and he knew that; he also knew that his over-the-top shenanigans always made you laugh after a stressful week. Whether you knew it or not, he’d noticed you were increasingly overwhelmed by all the work from the previous days, specifically regarding training his students while he was off on an assignment. Along with completing your own missions, you were supervising the three first years and guiding them through boring paperwork, which he knew made you feel like shit. It’s why he suggested you go to the festival in the first place, to get your mind off of work and spend time with you. And, he’d be damned if he didn’t get you that fuzzy little cat on his first try. 

“Watch the master at work, sweetheart,” is the last thing he says before carefully tossing the first of three balls toward the only purple bowl in the pool. He’s the tiniest bit off, though, and he curses under his breath as it ricochets against the edge and into the water. “That was a practice shot.”

“Sure, baby, sure,” you giggle, stifling your amusement into a fist. His tongue peeks out the side of his mouth in absentminded focus and you’re sure he’s found the perfect arc when the voice of one of his students cheers from behind you. 

“You’ve got this!” Despite their well wishes, Yuuji and Nobara accidentally timed their cheers at the precise moment his fingers let go of the ball, messing up his aim even worse than the first time. They deflate in embarrassment and Megumi’s face turns red from trying not to laugh. The usual deadly aura radiating off of him increases tenfold and it makes you shiver despite the warm autumn air. “T-Third time’s the charm, sir!”

“Fucking hell, why do I even bother–”

“Satoru, that’s cheating,” you whisper, sensing him imbuing the tiniest amount of Cursed Energy into the last ball to easily manipulate its trajectory. “I can just buy the thing online; you don’t need to be doing all of this.”

“I can buy you anything online, but I also want to prove that I’m better than everyone else,” he mutters much too seriously than the situation required. “Plus, once I win that damn cat, it’ll have a nice story to go behind it.” 

“Your ego truly knows no bounds.”

“You know you love it.”

A minute later, you’re walking away from the game with the fuzzy cat in your arms and Satoru’s arrogant smirk by your side. The rest of the night is spent watching him drag his students into various inflatable obstacle courses and tumbling down the slide after they push him over the edge. In spite of all the excitement, you have to drag them to a picnic table to sit and eat; even then, the three students challenge their teacher to a funnel cake eating contest. To no one’s surprise, Yuuji wins by a landslide. 

Satoru pays for everything, of course. When someone wanders over to a game booth, he pays for their game every single time and continues to pay until they win a prize. By the end of the night, all five of you have at least one prize in your possession and Satoru’s bank account is barely affected. 

Before the fair closes, you propose a game of hide and seek in the gigantic corn maze. You and the three students would get a five minute head start, and then Satoru would enter and race to find you before you reached the other side. The first years’ eyes shine with excitement when you tell them they can use techniques as long as they don’t make a mess. You consider throwing a veil over the entire thing, just to make sure Megumi’s dogs don’t start any rumors of hellhounds in the area. 

“If the kids can use theirs, then you’re not allowed to use your technique,” Satoru concludes and you make a noise of indignation while you gameplan by the entrance of the maze. “Don’t start with me; that’s totally fair!”

“I don’t understand how that’s fair in any way,” you argue up at his ridiculously confident smirk. You wanted to slap him and make out with him at the same time, none of which would have been appropriate in present company. 

“You make portals, sweetheart. If we’re making the maze a no-fly zone and I run into one of your doorways, I’m gonna be in there for the rest of time.”

“I’ll just make simple doors!” 

“The last time you said that, I was stuck on a mountain for three hours,” he reminds you and you huff in defeat, completely forgetting the three pairs of eyes watching this entire conversation. Sweetheart? Since when did he call anyone sweetheart? Nobara and Yuuji knew that you both were friends from high school, but the bickering seemed suspiciously akin to that of an old married couple. They glance at their spiky haired friend for confirmation of their theories, but he avoids their gaze and continues munching on pumpkin spice popcorn. “Alright, five minutes on the clock. Don’t let me catch you,” he smiles wickedly and you all but shove the three students into the maze. 

In a blink, Megumi summons his dogs and sends them to look for the exit. As you sprint down straightaways, Nobara intermittently sticks a few nails into the walls, essentially creating security sensors that will trigger if Satoru passes by it. It also helps establish what paths you’ve already explored and where you need to go next. In what feels like seconds, five minutes is gone and your heart drops as you see a black veil descend over the maze. The atmosphere of the maze feels electric, like wind before a storm, and you nervously laugh and urge the students to move faster. 

“So, are we ever going to talk about you and Gojo?” 

“That’s what you’re focused on right now?” You shoot back in amusement and Nobara shrugs, sending another nail into the corn with a strike of her hammer. “I don’t think this is the proper place to have this conversation!”

“So, are you two actually dating? Megumi won’t say anything, but he’s a terrible liar when we ask if he knows something!”

“I think the latter shooting ominous strikes of lightning into the air is a more pressing issue!”

“Lightning strikes which, I’ll add, are increasingly getting closer!” Yuuji’s voice rises to a panicked yelp and you curse in disbelief as your group slams into another dead end, giggling from sheer fear and swatting the students to find another way. All the while, blasts of pure Cursed Energy fly upward like fireworks, illuminating the field in terrifying shades of blue and red. “Any status on the nails?”

“He just passed the third one closest to us,” Nobara reports, face slowly losing color as the most powerful sorcerer in the world hunts you down. “You can’t send Nue to stall him?”

“You think a bird is going to stop Gojo Satoru?” 

“Well, your damn dogs haven’t come back yet and we’re running out of options–” The back-and-forth is cut short by a faint howl coming from the back right corner of the maze, just a few hundred yards away. One of the dogs appears from the floor, hooking a sharp right turn that has you four stumbling to catch up to it. The howls continue, as do the strikes of lightning, while you follow the dog to what you assume is the exit. “The nails haven’t picked up his energy signature in a while,” Nobara informs you in slight relief while the howling grows closer with every step. Yuuji’s mouth breaks into a victorious grin, but you and Megumi aren’t convinced. 

“Does that mean we lost him? Or did he get lost?” 

“Something doesn’t feel right,” you mutter low enough for only Megumi to hear and he nods in agreement. “I don’t feel him anywhere.” 

“That cracking behind us is just the corn, right?” Yuuji’s voice becomes uncertain and the static in the air only becomes more palpable. You’re so close to the exit and you can tell he’s getting nearer, but something in your gut tells you that you can beat him. But, Nobara’s realization makes your blood run cold. 

“Wait, I don’t sense any of my nails anymore–” 

“Found you.”

Your throats rip a collectively brutal screech as Satoru’s voice seems to come from directly behind you, and you glance backward to only see a pair of knife-sharp blue eyes staring through the black corridor of the maze. Colorful curses of fear babble from the mouths of the students and you slam your feet even harder into the ground as you sprint for the exit. The bright lights of the pumpkin sign were in sight; you just had to make it a little farther. 

“Elephant, elephant, elephant!” Yuuji’s suggestion comes out as incoherent yelps and he tries to fire off black flashes to no avail. Megumi looks at him like he’d grown four new limbs. 

“What?!”

“Summon the fucking elephant, Fushiguro!” A nail rockets away behind you only to be immediately sent back, embedding itself in the husk by your feet. 

“I hate to break it to you, but the elephant isn’t going to do anything when–”

“When I’m already right behind you,” he whispers directly into your ear and you scream as his footsteps line up with yours and his arms snake under your legs, lifting you off the ground like you weighed no more than a cotton ball. He disappears with you into darkness, firing off a single precise attack that cuts the lights of the entire exit so that the path is pitch black. Somehow, you end up outside of the maze while the three students continue to panic inside and he gently sets you on your feet. His menacing aura disappears in a blink and he nuzzles his nose into your neck, his arms holding you close by your waist. “I found you,” he says with a smile. 

“You did. I know you always do, eventually.”

“Mhmm. Did you have fun?”

“Honestly, that was the most terrifying experience of my entire existence,” you laugh, threading your fingers into his hair and tugging him even closer. He chuckles warmly, ironically just as quiet as the fearful bickering of your students in the maze. You barely feel any sweat on his forehead against your shoulder and you can’t even imagine how messy you looked after running for your life. “I look like shit, don’t I?”

“You’ve never looked prettier,” he murmurs, pulling away briefly to press a kiss to your cheek. “We should probably go grab the kids.” You hum absentmindedly, vaguely making out the voices of Megumi and Yuuji trying to figure out which way to go. 

“Stay here a little longer. Let them think you’ve taken me away to your scary vampire lair, or something.”

“As you wish, sweetheart. I'll be your scary vampire anytime.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #ask iris!

[multi-fandom-things730]

Across Enemy Lines

Summary: Jon Moxley’s sister has been through a lot during her career at AEW, but Tyler has always been there for her. So when Wheeler starts messing with Tyler, Y/N is not going to sit by and watch it happen.

Warnings: family drama, fighting, arguing, violence, intergender fighting, weapons, threats, protective!Y/N, angst, fluff, Wheeler being a little jerk, bit of spice

A/N: I hope you all enjoy this fic!! It is quite long😅 But I worked super hard so I hope you enjoy!! The support I get on my fics really means the world to me and I love each and every one of you!!!!!!!!🥹🤍 And as always, a special thanks to @99hook , who always listens to me ramble about my ideas and helps me💛✨ And to @madhatterbri who listens to ramble as well, and helped me come up with the PERFECT name for this fic💜

Y/N let out a sad sigh, and watched as her breath swirled around the cold air in front of her.

She was sitting on a curb outside the arena, knees pulled to her chest as she waited for Taz's car to pull around and pick her up.

Tyler had been ejected from the building earlier that night, after getting into a fight with Wheeler and pushing an official.

She would have gone with him, but Y/N had recently become good friends with MJF and knew this night would be stressful for him as he looked for partners in his match against Jay White and his gang.

She didn't want to leave him, and Tyler said he needed some time to himself anyway. She knew he'd probably go to the gym and beat the crap out of some innocent punching bag until she got there, so she stayed.

But Y/N was now fully convinced the night couldn't have gone any worse. With Tyler getting thrown out, Mox beating the hell out of Orange, and MJF and the acclaimed losing, she just wanted to go curl up in Tyler’s arms and never leave.

But she turns to look when someone clears their throat behind her.

She turns to stare back up at the sky when she sees Claudio Castagnoli looking down at her. "What do you want Castagnoli?"

"Castagnoli?" Claudio sits down next to her. "I think you and I are far past last names"

"We used to be" Y/N says softly. "I don't know if we are anymore"

Claudio nods sadly. "We all miss you, you know? We'd be happy to have you back. Especially Jon. He misses his sister"

Y/N laughs, but they both know there's no humor behind it. "You think I'd come back? After everything? Especially the shit Wheeler pulled tonight?"

“I tried to get him to stop" Claudio points out.

Y/N lets out a sigh, her defensiveness fading. Claudio didn’t deserve it, he never deserved any of her attitude. He was the one who was always there for her. "I know... I'm sorry for snapping at you"

Claudio shakes his head. "No, don't apologize. I get it Y/N"

"I'm glad" she breathes out, before turning to face him. "Because, if you do get it; then you also get that I'm not going to just sit by and watch Wheeler mess with Tyler"

"I know" Claudio nods, but she can see the sadness he’s trying to hide in his eyes.

"I.." Y/N trails off nervously, before reaching over and putting her hand on top of his. "I miss you, Claudio"

He smiles sadly, and reaches over to wipe a stray tear from her cheek. "I miss you too Y/N"

"You know, I met Tyler during that feud we had with the Jericho Appreciation Society" Y/N reminisces with a smile.

"I know" Claudio smiles back. " I was there the night that Daniel was bothering you. I was just down the hall on my way over when Hook came and stopped him"

"Hey gorgeous"

Y/N rolled her eyes as Daniel Garcia came walking over to her.

"Don't call me that Garcia, and leave me the hell alone" Y/N huffs, trying to step around him and continue her way to the locker room.

"What's the rush? You should get used to me since you'll agree to go out with me soon" Daniel smirks.

"No, I absolutely won't Garcia" Y/N narrows her eyes up at him.

She tries to brush past him, but he grabs her arm to stop her.

Before he can get another word out, a hand grabs Daniel's shoulder.

Daniel drops Y/N's arm, and is then thrown against the wall.

Y/N's eyes widen as she realizes it was Hook who had come to help her.

The two hadn't really spoken before tonight, except for smiles and nods upon passing each other in the halls.

"You like can’t take no for an answer, huh?" Hook practically growls.

"Hook, it's fine. I'm fine, let him go" Y/N assures, placing her hand on his and pulling him off of Daniel.

Daniel gathers himself, and quickly runs away as Y/N stares up at Hook.

"You didn't have to do that for me, but thank you" She smiles.

"You don't need to thank me" Hook shrugs. "I don't like guys who act like that"

"You don't need to worry about me, I could take him" Y/N shrugs.

"I have no doubt about that" Hook grins. "But you shouldn't have to"

In truth, Hook wasn't just around by accident.

He had developed a crush on her, but was too nervous to approach her.

She was so beautiful, smart, and tough… and he knew if Mox found out he would beat his ass.

But as the two of them fell into casual conversation, and he got to watch her laugh at his lame jokes, he couldn't care less about what Mox would do. It would be worth it.

"He earned my respect that night” Claudio says. “He's a good man, stepping in to protect you like that"

"He is. He's the best man I could have ever asked for" Y/N lets a dreamy smile form on her face as she thinks about him.

Claudio smiles and squeezes her hand. "I'm glad; you deserve nothing less than perfect"

"He's not perfect" Y/N giggles. "The first time he was around me crying he had no clue what to do"

Claudio joins her in laughing. "When was that?"

"After Regal betrayed us" Y/N answers. "He came to my hotel room that night. He wasn't sure how to comfort me but, he came anyway. He thinks he did a terrible job but, I don't think anyone else would have been able to make me smile as much as he did"

Y/N didn't know what to do when she saw Regal hand MJF those damn brass knuckles.

She ran around ringside as fast as she could, and dove into the ring to try and grab it before MJF. But Regal grabbed her leg and pulled her back.

She whipped around to face him with fire in her eyes. "How could you do this?!"

He didn't give her an answer, just a sneer.

And before Y/N knew it, the bell had rung, and MJF was standing tall with the belt.

What should be her brother’s belt.

She felt like she could burst into tears, having to watch the man who had become like a father to her betray her brother.

But she kept her composure, and simply helped Mox out of the ring and up the ramp.

The fellow members of the BCC were waiting for them in the guerrilla, and clearly ready to go exact some much-deserved revenge.

Claudio walked over and took Mox's arm, helping Y/N hold some of his weight.

"Guys! Stop!" Y/N demands.

"We can't hurt Regal!" Bryan insists.

"He betrayed Mox! He betrayed all of us!" Wheeler yells.

"Shut up!" Y/N snaps, causing all of them to do so and look at her. "We can deal with what we're gonna do to Regal later! Now we need to get Jon to the trainer's room"

They all nod and make their way there.

Y/N and Claudio sit Mox down in a chair, and the trainers get to bandaging him up.

Y/N lets out a sigh as her eyes burned from the tears welling up.

"Are you okay?" Claudio asked her softly.

"I just... Can you guys stay here with him? I need some air" The guys nod as she rushes out of the room and into the hallway.

She leans against the wall and sniffles, a tear finally making its way down her face.

She scanned the hallway, trying to make sure no one was watching her cry.

But her eyes stop on Hook, Tyler, as he now insisted she call him.

He was further down the hallway, watching her with sympathetic eyes.

She attempted to smile at him, but she knew he saw right through it.

He looked back down at his phone, and Y/N understood why when her's buzzed in her pocket.

Are you ok?

Not really

Meet me at my hotel room, 189

Thank you Tyler

Of course mamas🧡

Tyler grinned when he saw a tiny smile form on her face. She loved being called that, and he loved watching her face turn pink and bashful every time.

But then Claudio walked out of the room, and Tyler quickly looked away before he got caught staring.

Little did either of them know that Claudio saw through the window of the door before he ever walked out of the room. But he waited to walk out to let them have a moment.

"Is there anything I can do to cheer you up Y/N?" Claudio asked.

"Could you, maybe, take me to get ice cream?" Y/N hesitantly asked.

But all Claudio did was laugh and nod. "Your wish is my command"

Later that night, Y/N approached Tyler's hotel room nervously, and when she got to the door she almost turned around.

But Tyler, who kept checking the peephole every few minutes, saw her approach and opened the door. "Hey"

"Hi" she replies nervously, a hesitant smile on her face.

"Come in" Tyler opens the door wider, and Y/N walks in and sits down on the bed.

Tyler sits down next to her, nerves coursing through his mind. He wasn't sure how to comfort her, but he damn sure was gonna try. "How are you feeling?"

"Terrible" Y/N answers honestly. "Hanging out with Claudio helped some though. And Jon.. he doesn't want to talk to anyone right now"

"I'm sorry" Tyler says softly, and places his hand on her thigh. "I'm sure he just needs a little time after everything"

"Yeah" Y/N huffs angrily.

She abruptly stands up and starts pacing back and forth. "That bastard screwed him! He betrayed all of us! Just threw us away like we were nothing!"

Unsure of what to do, Tyler sat and watched as she paced and yelled. His eyes stayed trained on her, listening intently to every word while simultaneously trying to ignore the incoming thoughts about how sexy she looked while angry.

"After everything, he just turned on us like it was the easiest thing in the world. Made us all trust and love him and then he shows his true colors. A sneaky little SNAKE is all he is" Y/N seethes. "When I get my hands on him I'm going to rip him into little pieces. I'm gonna leave him a beaten bloody pulp!"

"If you did that you'd never forgive yourself" Tyler interjects.

Y/N's head snaps over to him. "What do you know?! The only thing I regret is stopping Claudio and Wheeler from going out there and giving him exactly what he deserves tonight!"

"No you don't" Tyler insists. "You say all this now, but when it came down to it tonight you didn't let them do anything. Because you care too much about Regal despite what he did"

Y/N stops pacing, and a glare forms on her face. "Are you trying to make me feel better?!"

"Yes" Tyler replies quickly, suddenly scared of the glare that was now directed at him.

"And that's supposed to help?!" Y/N exclaims.

"I... I don't know.." Tyler trails off nervously as she begins pacing much quicker this time.

"Yes! Obviously I still care about Regal! But it's not like I want to! It's not like that's by choice! Do you think I want to still give a damn about that snake?! He's the reason my brother isn't the world champion anymore!"

Y/N suddenly stops pacing and just stares at the wall for a moment.

Tyler stands up, and slowly approaches her. He wraps his arms around her from behind in a hug. She leans back into him as he rests his cheek on top of her head.

"Why.. why do I still care about him?" She mumbles, and the sadness in her voice was enough to make Tyler want to punch Regal himself.

"Because you are such a caring and loving person" he answers, and places a kiss on the top of her head. "You are so in tune with your emotions, and because of that you love so deeply, and it's not easy for your love to break"

Y/N is silent for a second. "How do I stop being like that?"

"You don't" Tyler immediately answers. "It's what makes you, you. No one wants you to let that go. You wouldn't be you anymore"

"But it hurts so bad" she whispers miserably, tears beginning to fall down her cheeks again. She had lost count of how many times she cried that night.

"You're my strong girl" Tyler says, giving her a squeeze. "You'll be okay. Yes, it hurts right now. But I know you'll be okay"

A small smile makes its way onto her face, her mind now distracted by his use of the phrase ‘my strong girl’ instead of ‘a strong girl’, and she turns around in Tyler's arms. "Thank you"

He smiles back, and pecks her cheek. "Of course"

"I'm sorry for snapping at you" Y/N apologizes, placing her hands on either side of his face.

Tyler turns his head and kisses her palm, before smiling down at her. "It's okay, I understand"

"You're my knight in shining armor" she giggles, and he laughs too.

"Could I have orange armor?" He asks, and they both laugh again.

"Absolutely" she agrees, a smile growing on her face that finally reaches her eyes.

The two gaze into each other's eyes, soaking in the moment with happy grins.

"You are beautiful" he says softly.

"Thank you" Y/N replies. "You're pretty handsome yourself"

"Can I kiss you?" Tyler breathes out, his grip on her waist tightening nervously.

But she just rubs her thumbs back and forth against his cheeks. "Yes"

He wastes no time after that, and leans down to press his lips against her's.

It was short, but sweet and passionate. Everything you could hope for in a first kiss.

"He didn't ask me to be his girlfriend that night though" Y/N smiles. "He didn't want our anniversary to also be the anniversary of Regal betraying us. He said it wouldn't make for the happiest of celebrations"

Claudio chuckles and nods. "He was right about that"

"He waited a few days, and he took me out to dinner. Then to a random little park, and asked me to be his girlfriend there. It was so sweet. He gave me this that night too" She pulls a necklace out from under her shirt.

Claudio reached over and held the charm in between his fingers. It was a heart, with a pearl charm next to it on the chain, and the letter T was engraved on the heart. "It's beautiful"

"I know" Y/N grins. "I need to remember to not tuck it under my shirt. I'm just so used to hiding it from Jon"

The two chuckle at that, before Claudio says "I don't think that's necessary anymore. He definitely knows about you two"

"What if someone comes in?" Y/N rushes out as Tyler pins her against the wall of the trainer's room.

"They won't. The trainers are in the locker room tonight because of the renovations in here. Everyone knows that” Tyler replies against her neck, before he resumes placing kisses up and down it.

Y/N bites her lip as she runs her fingers through his hair, savoring the feeling of his body pressed against hers. "But Jon will be looking for me soon"

"Shh, it'll be fine mamas" That was all it took for her to nod, and stop worrying about her brother.

She smiled as his lips trailed up her neck and eventually connected with hers. She felt him smile into the kiss too, and give her ass a squeeze.

"We've checked everywhere but here Clau-"

Y/N pushed Tyler away as fast as possible, but it was way too late.

Mox had burst into the room, despite Claudio's best efforts to stop him. Claudio had seen Y/N slip into this room, and then saw Tyler sneak in a few minutes later.

And he didn't want Mox to kill Tyler.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Mox exclaims, and if looks could kill Tyler would have been dead on the spot.

"Let's not overreact" Claudio grabbed Mox's shoulders in an attempt to defuse the situation. "Let's give them some privacy-"

"Privacy was the issue!" Mox screams, before brushing Claudio off and stomping towards Tyler who quickly backs up. "You think you can put your hands on my sister and get away with it?!"

"Jon!" Y/N yells, stepping in between him and Tyler. "I don't need your permission to be with someone! I'm not a child anymore! And you don't get to treat me like one!"

Mox stares over his sister's head, directly into Tyler's eyes for a few moments, before looking down at her. "How long has this been going on?"

"A few months" she answers honestly. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Jon. But I wanted my boyfriend in one piece"

Mox huffs, before taking a few steps back and crossing his arms.

Tyler, who had been standing silent this whole time in an attempt to not further anger Mox, placed his hand on the small of Y/N's back.

"He makes you happy?" Mox asks, and Y/N immediately nods. "Yes. Very much so"

Y/N's eyes flicker over to Claudio's, who sends her a sympathetic smile before walking over to grab Mox's shoulders. "Come on, let's leave them alone and you and Y/N can talk privately later"

Mox sends one more glare over to Tyler before letting Claudio practically drag him out of the room.

Y/N lets out a sigh before turning to face Tyler. "I am so sorry for that"

"Don't be sorry mamas" he replies, putting his hands on her hips and pulling her towards him.

Y/N leans her head against his chest as he rubs his thumbs back and forth on her hips.

"It was kinda my fault anyway. I am the one who dragged your cute little ass in here" Tyler grins, before reaching around and grabbing her ass.

Y/N rolls her eyes. "It didn't take long for you to get back in the mood. Need I remind you my brother just almost beat you to death?"

Tyler pretends to think for a moment, before resting his forehead against her's. "I can't really remember that. Not while I have this gorgeous girl in front of me"

"You're so cheesy" Y/N giggles before pressing a kiss to his jaw.

"Only for you, and you love it" Tyler retorts with a grin, before kissing her jaw in return.

The Y/N and Claudio sit in silence for a moment, before Claudio speaks up. "Do you ever regret leaving?"

Y/N thinks for a second. "I regret that the situation happened. But it did, and there's nothing we can do about it. So no, I don't"

Y/N trudged through backstage with a frown on her face.

She didn't relish having to deal with Wheeler Yuta for yet another night.

And tonight was going to be especially bad, because tonight there was a parking lot match between the best friends and the BCC.

Y/N would have never told anyone, except Tyler of course, but she didn't like the way her teammates were acting.

The only person in the best friends that really did anything wrong to Wheeler was Trent, but here they were trying to destroy all of them. When they were already destroyed by the sadness of Wheeler leaving them.

Y/N almost cried at ringside during the match between Mox and Wheeler and the best friends. Watching Wheeler pin Chuck with the very pin he taught him how to do made her stomach twist into knots.

After that she started thinking about how their group acted as a whole, and how everyone was scared of her. It made her sad when she tried to be friends with people but they were too scared because of her being in the BCC.

And it seemed Orange Cassidy had started realizing that Y/N wasn't down with all of the BCC's actions.

Because as Y/N walked down the hallway, he stepped out in front of her. "Hey"

"Hi" she replies simply. Not saying anything more, but not trying to leave either.

"I noticed you seemed to.. hesitate last week when your teammates started with us" Orange says.

"I did" Y/N nods.

"Why?" Orange asks.

Y/N thinks for a moment. "Because I think the way they've been treating you is messed up. And I don't really like Wheeler"

Orange chuckles at the latter comment. "Yeah"

"Mhm" Y/N nods.

"Would you consider, maybe like, switching sides?" Orange purposes.

Y/N is quiet for a few seconds. She had thought about it, and to be completely honest, it sounded like a nice change. "Would I get to be on the t-shirt?"

Orange laughs at that before nodding. "Yeah"

"Then I'll definitely consider it" Y/N pats him on the shoulder before continuing her walk down the hallway.

"Cool" Orange nods before continuing on his way too.

Y/N wanted to run to Tyler and ask him what he thought about the offer. But at the same time, she knew it needed to be her decision and not influenced by anyone else.

Being a part of something where people would like her instead of fear her was a very tempting offer. She wasn't like her brother in that way, she didn't like people scrambling out of the way every time she walked down the hall.

It didn't make her feel powerful, it made her feel sad.

Y/N was practically stumbling over herself when she bursted into the best friends' locker room after the parking lot fight.

She was holding 4 first aid kits, as many as she could carry at once, and was out of breath from running.

"Are you guys okay?!" She exclaims, dropping the kits on the ground to run over to Orange and examine his face.

"Why do you care?" Trent grumbles.

"She's cool guys" Orange says before sending her a weak smile. "I'm fine Y/N"

"I'm so sorry they did this to you guys" Y/N breathes out. "I should have done something"

"Nah, I'm glad you didn't" Orange replies. "That probably would have just pissed Mox off more; he woulda just given us a worse beat down"

"So, are you on our side now or something?" Chuck asks.

"I.." Y/N trails off. "I'm not one hundred percent sure yet. It's not easy to think about leaving my brother but, I think I will"

Orange pats her on the shoulder. "We get it. It shouldn't be easy to leave the people you care about. That would make you like Yuta"

His comment makes everyone chuckle.

"And Trent?" Y/N says, making the man in question look over at her. "I need your help with something"

"Why the hell would you buy Trent's mother a new car?!"

Y/N rolls her eyes as her brother yells at her.

She was in the BCC's locker room, the entire team in attendance for Mox to scold her.

"I can buy whoever I like, whatever I'd like to" Y/N says firmly. "It's none of your damn business what I do"

"Yes it is, I'm your brother" Mox says through gritted teeth.

"Precisely!" Y/N stands up and crosses her arms. "You are my brother, not my boss! You think you get to decide what I do, and that all of my actions need to be pre-approved by you. But they don't!"

"Why do you even care about Trent’s mother?!” Wheeler snaps. “You know what they did to me-“

“They didn’t do shit to you Wheeler!” Y/N finally screams what she had been thinking for weeks. “Boo hoo, Trent was mean to you. But nothing that happened warrants the way you go after them!”

Then she grabbed her bag and stormed out of the room, brushing past the camera guy who was sitting outside of the room eavesdropping.

“So you’re on their side now?!” Wheeler yells, chasing after her.

“I’m not on yours!” She retorts.

Of course it was at that moment the rest of the BCC caught up with them. And then the best friends came running down the hall after hearing the yelling.

“Are you okay Y/N?” Chuck asks, placing his hand on her shoulder.

“Fuck off” Bryan snaps at him, but Y/N sends him a glare. “You fuck off”

“You know what?!” She screams, staring at her former teammates. “You can ALL fuck off! I’m done with you Wheeler! I’m done with running around behind you all like a puppet! I’m done with everyone being scared of me! And I’m done with the BCC!”

With that, she runs down the hallway with tears streaming down her face.

She gets to Tyler’s dressing room and knocks timidly on the door.

After a moment the door opens to reveal just the man she was looking for.

She immediately ran into his arms, hugging him around his waist and crying into his chest.

Tyler quickly closed the door, before guiding her to sit down on the couch. Where he pulled her onto his lap and held her as she cried. “Hey... it’s okay”

“No, it’s not” Y/N sniffles. “I just couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t take Wheeler, or- or the fighting, I-“

“Shh” Tyler gently shushes her. He wipes her tears away with the sleeves of his hoodie, before placing a chaste kiss on her temple. “I understand. But right now I need you to calm down. Can you do that for me babygirl?”

Y/N just nods in reply, and curls back into his chest.

The two sit in silence as Tyler places another kiss on her head and rubs his hand up and down her back.

“I love you” Y/N breathes out.

Tyler smiles softly. “I love you too”

Y/N sends Claudio a weak smile. “I really do miss you, Claudio. You’re my best friend. I just need to make sure you know that”

Claudio smiles back. “You’re my best friend too”

“And out of respect for you, I’ll do my best to stay out of the issues between Tyler and Wheeler. You know I stay out of your issues with the best friends. I don’t want to fight you guys. But Tyler’s a different situation. And I will only put up with so much”

Claudio listens intently as she stares directly into his eyes for the last sentence. “So you better either put him in check, or prepare him to deal with me”

Claudio nods. “I understand”

“You don’t have to come out there”

Y/N sighs at Orange’s words.

Her, Orange, and Tyler were walking down the hallways towards her dressing room. Tyler had his arm around her shoulders, and she was close to his side while Orange was walking beside her.

“But shouldn’t I? I don’t want anyone thinking I’m not 100% in your corner” she says.

“None of us care what anybody else thinks” Tyler replies. “We know you’re behind us mamas. But we also know it isn’t easy watching us fight your brother. And no one will judge you for that”

“What he said” Orange nods.

Y/N smiles, and leans up to kiss Tyler’s cheek. “Thanks you guys”

Y/N didn’t want to go out there.

She had avoided the BCC successfully since she left; she even managed to control herself enough to stay backstage at Wembley.

But watching Wheeler seatbelt lock Tyler, and then Mox start ripping into Orange about how he ‘ain’t shit’?

Well, that was simply too much for her to take lying down.

And for the first time in weeks, Mox paused when he heard his sister’s music hit.

She stormed down the ramp, and her glare somehow got stronger when Wheeler slid out of the ring.

He smirked, and made a mocking motion for her to get closer.

But his laughing stopped when she stepped right up to him, so close that their chests were touching.

“You have two seconds to quit that childish shit before I teach you a lesson” she deadpanned.

“What lesson would that be?” Wheeler challenges.

“What it feels like to get your teeth knocked out”

“Hey, hey, hey!” Mox climbs out of the ring and starts to walk over to them.

“Run off little gir-“

Wheeler didn’t even get to finish his sentence before Y/N’s closed fist connected with his mouth.

Wheeler fell backward, and Y/N jumped on top of him.

The crowd cheered as she rained punches down on him.

But then she was pulled off of Wheeler, and she yanked herself out of the person’s grip.

She whipped around and came face to face with her brother.

But she didn’t do what Mox expected her to. Her glare didn’t soften, and her fist didn’t open. Instead, she pushed him, making him stumble backward.

“Don’t put your fucking hands on me!” She screamed.

Then Claudio came sprinting down the ramp, and immediately put his hands on Y/N’s shoulders, stopping her from advancing towards Mox. “Hey, let’s all take a step back”

“You all take a fucking step back!” Y/N demands, ripping herself away from his grasp.

“Or what?!” Wheeler, who had just pulled himself up, yells.

“OR THIS!” Y/N screams, grabbing a steel chair and swinging at him.

Claudio yanked Wheeler back just in time, and pulled him further up the ramp. “Okay! We’re going Y/N! We’re going!”

Y/N held tightly onto the chair as she watched the three men retreat up the ramp, and didn’t let go until they had gone through the tunnels and were out of her sight.

She let out a breath, and dropped the chair to run over to Tyler. “Baby? Are you okay?”

“I’m good” he breathes out, pulling himself up.

Once he’s up he pulls her into his arms. “Are you okay after all that?”

“I’m fine” she answers, holding onto him tightly. “You’re not mad at me?”

“No” Tyler says with a little smile. “I’m not thrilled; you could have gotten hurt. But I can’t deny that you handled yourself. And I’m glad you got some good hits in on Yuta”

That makes them both chuckle, and Y/N pulls away enough to look at him. “I love you”

“I love you too” he grins, and they laugh into their kiss as the crowd pops around them.

They pull away after a moment, and they walk over to Orange.

“Are you okay hon?” Y/N asks, kneeling next to him.

“Yeah” he shrugs.

Y/N shakes her head at his monotone answer, but wraps her arms around him to help him up nonetheless.

Tyler helps pull Orange up, and the three walk out together with their heads held high.

Y/N had strolled down the hallways of the arena the next week with her chin up.

Tyler had won his match against Rocky Romero, and her best friend Kris Statlander had beaten Diamante.

And now after all that Y/N was curled up with Tyler in her dressing room watching Shibata fight Wheeler.

Tyler had his arm around her, and she had her head laid against his chest as she fidgeted with the rings he had on his free hand.

Tyler leaned down to place a kiss on her temple.

She smiled up at him and returned a peck on his cheek.

“You think Shibata’s got this, right?” He asks.

“Definitely” Y/N immediately answers. “He’s a much better wrestler than Wheeler”

But Y/N’s eyes widen when Wheeler throws Shibata into the ref, and then hits him with a low blow while the ref can't see.

“Are you fucking joking?!” Y/N fumes as Wheeler DDTs Shibata right on his head and gets the pin.

And as if that wasn’t bad enough, Shibata still tries to shake Wheeler’s hand. But Wheeler just low blows him again and hits him with another DDT.

Tyler jumps up and goes storming out of the room, Y/N quickly following him.

Y/N was ahead of Tyler by the time they were going down the ramp, jogging down it and right at Wheeler.

She picked up a chair on her way, and stared Wheeler down as Tyler climbed into the ring to check on Shibata.

Tyler didn’t even feel the need to watch his back, he knew Y/N had him covered. So he just focused on making sure Shibata was okay.

Y/N kept her eyes locked on Wheeler as he retreated up the ramp, paying no mind to the belt he was holding up.

She only looked away once he got to the top, and was more occupied with taunting the judges who watched him cheat.

She rolled into the ring, and grabbed one of Shibata’s hands. “Are you okay? Your neck is good?”

He nods in reply, sending her a weak smile.

Y/N and Tyler exchange looks, and they can both see the anger behind the other’s eyes.

Tyler walked into the hotel’s gym at 3 AM, still feeling half asleep.

He had woken up, and Y/N was no longer asleep next to him. He knew that she had a lot of pent up energy from all of the anger, and that there was one place she’d go to get it out.

He was proved right when he found her beating the hell out of a punching bag.

Being in the BCC had taught her a lot of things, some good and some bad. And some walked the line right between.

Y/N had learned to take her anger out in violence. She didn’t really know any other way.

She wanted to get her hands on Wheeler and rip him apart.

“Hey”

Y/N pauses when she hears his voice.

She takes in deep breaths as she catches the punching bag, stopping it from swinging. “Hi”

Tyler walks over with her water bottle, holding it up for her to drink.

“Why are you awake?” She asks him through deep breaths.

“I missed you” he smiles, causing her to smile back.

“Sorry” she says.

“Don’t apologize” Tyler shakes his head. “I understand”

“He just gets under my skin like nobody else. And TK won’t let me have an intergender match” she huffs.

Tyler laughs. “I should have known you would ask”

Y/N shrugs. “Wheeler would probably refuse anyway”

“Of course he would” Tyler laughs. “He knows you’d beat his ass”

Y/N laughs too. “Hell yeah I would”

“You should get some sleep though mamas” Tyler wraps his arms around her waist. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of Wheeler”

Y/N couldn’t help but smirk at the dark tone that overtook his voice. “Yeah?”

“You know I will” he replies gruffly.

Y/N’s smirk grows as she looks up at him, and places a kiss on his lips.

Tyler kisses back, and tightens his grip on her.

He pulls away and grins at her. “Consider it a Christmas present”

Y/N laughs at that. “I’ll only consider it that if you let me get a few hits in”

“I think you have gotten more than enough hits in” Tyler chuckles. “His mouth probably still hurts”

“I hope it does” Y/N shrugs. “That was just a warning”

#aew #aew hook #hook aew #aew hook x reader #hook aew x reader #hook x reader #hook imagine #send hook #aew x reader #aew fanfiction

[hey-august]

Listen To Your Captain | NSFW (Buggy x GN!reader)

Based on this lovely request!! Anon, this was such a good idea and I loved planning and writing it! I hope you enjoy! ♡ Word count: ~2.1k Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, buggy x GN!reader, no use of Y/N, oral - reader receiving, sex, morning sex, buggy miiiight have a lil uniform or roleplay kink, "apologetic" buggy. All parties are consenting adults.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The early morning air was heavy, weighed down by lingering sleep. A blanket that both kept the tired tucked in their slumber, and draped around early risers to ease them into the day. Buggy was bathed in the artificially bright lights surrounding his vanity mirror, nearly blinding him to everything but the reflection of his empty canvas. He propped his head up, knuckles digging into temple and long hair drifting down, as he lazily browsed the multitude of colors and products occupying the tabletop. 

You watched, peering around the doorway to share in the quiet comfort of Buggy’s morning routine. It used to surprise you to see how he approached the day - starting with a moment of calm and order. This was often the only portion of his day he willingly indulged in qualities that were vastly opposite of the persona he exuded. It started with a swipe of a wet washcloth to clear away the night’s sleep, then organization of his clothes for the day, and the remaining time spent curating a masterpiece.

Seemingly unsatisfied with the visible selection, Buggy started rummaging through drawers and nearby boxes. This was the moment. After allowing yourself a pause to admire his toned arms and the flex of muscles that rippled down his back, you cautiously tiptoed over. Moving under the clamor of make-up and face paint containers knocking against each other, you sidled your way to your goal, guided by a beacon of orange. With the prize in hand, you quickly escaped to the dressing room.

And that’s where Buggy found you, clad in the clothes you slept in. His clothes. You wore a threadbare striped shirt, an article he would have burned if you hadn’t claimed it after deeming the ripped sleeves “fashionable.” It hung loosely on you, barely covering underwear that you also probably pilfered from the pirate. And topping your ill begotten outfit was his captain’s hat. While Buggy hadn’t noticed your stealthy activity, it was hard to overlook the dull emptiness left in the hat’s absence.

You admired your patchwork costume in the tilted mirror, basking in stolen affection. The hat was a little big on your head and you had to tilt it back for it to sit well. Supporting the outer edges with your fingertips, you pivoted and admired the items from different angles, until a few degrees too many brought an unexpected blob into your line of sight. The man whose fondness you had draped on yourself stood nearby, arms crossed and weight shifted to one side. Your eyes flitted up and down his mostly nude form, skimming past his broad chest dappled with hair that trailed down to the towel wrapped around his waist in favor of admiring the whole picture.

“It’s too early for this shit,” he stated plainly, voice still gravelly due to a few grains of sleep hanging tight. Buggy’s routine was interrupted. You messed with his preparation and pulled him away from one of the few self-care activities he tolerated. “C’mon, hand it over.” The demand came with an annoyed flick of two fingers, beckoning you over. 

It was the only warning he would give before taking the hat back himself. A warning you chose to ignore. Buggy let loose an annoyed huff before his hand whizzed towards you.

“Stop!” you said firmly. A command his hand obeyed, surprisingly. “Is that anyway to treat your captain?” Your hands flourished around the hat, a reminder of the power it symbolized. 

Buggy tensed at your display. His eyes narrowed as he recalled his hand. Stepping forward, he met the appendage and approached you.

“What did you say?” His voice was as tight as the grin it emerged from.

You held fast, refusing to sink into the maelstrom in his eyes.

“You heard me. This is no way to treat your captain.” You shook your head slightly in disappointment. “In fact, I think you need to apologize for that outburst.”

“Apologize?” Buggy repeated, wanting to be sure he understood what you were asking. He licked his lips in anticipation of your affirmation.

“Mhm, apologize. Ask your captain for forgiveness.”

Buggy nodded slowly, contemplating the next part of this act. Prompted by the expectant raise of your eyebrows, the pirate lowered himself to the ground. Seated on his knees, Buggy looked up at you through long lashes, knowing exactly what effect this would have on you. Pulling back the grin threatening to break free, the performer let his face fall and crinkled his brows in a show of concern. Balled fists rested on his knees, as if they held chains of regret for his actions.

“Captain, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way,” Buggy said with a heavy voice and fluttering lashes.

“What way?” You spoke quickly with the bit of air that wasn’t caught in your throat. 

You bit your lip and frowned, trying to hide how turned on you were becoming. You didn’t actually expect Buggy to play along, and you definitely didn’t anticipate that he’d be such a formidable participant. Very poor foresight, considering he’s a performer and a clown - a lover of theater and games.

“I shouldn’t have spoken to you so rudely, Captain. It was disrespectful- I was disrespectful,” Buggy lamented. He reached up to grab the edge of your shirt before continuing. “Please show your lowly forsaken crew member mercy, my dearest Captain.” The words were spoken into the hem of your shirt in between groveling kisses.

Every word from his mouth created chaos inside you - pounding, aching, twisting, throbbing. And the teasing lilt within each ‘captain,’ left your head spinning. Flustered, you tried to back away and failed. His hold only allowed you to take a partial step, creating a space that he quickly closed. He slipped his hands under the shirt and onto your hips, keeping you from escaping further.

“Don’t go… Let me show you how sorry I am,” Buggy said softly as he slid down the underwear you wore. 

Bare hands dragged along your legs and Buggy relished the shiver that coursed through your body afterwards. He leaned in to kiss your thighs, slightly tilting his head upwards to accommodate his nose. Puffs of sound cascaded down - your unsuccessful attempts to speak while simultaneously trying to hold in the lustful noises that threaten to spill out.

Before you could form a full syllable, the pirate licked his way up your leg and to the treasure that was demanding attention. There, he busied himself through hand and mouth, focused solely on showing you how truly apologetic he was. The wet sounds and murmurs of pleasure that flooded the room were slightly muffled by the vast amount of clothing hung around the perimeter. The gentle muting made you self-conscious of anything that slipped from your own lips, since they felt unnecessarily loud in comparison.

You switched between keeping your eyes shut and staring at the ceiling, which was draped in fabric designed to look like the night sky. The silk stars started to dance and twinkle as you felt the tension in your body increasing. An errant hand caressed your cheek, a sweet gesture to inform you of the floating visitor. Closing your eyes, you pressed your face into Buggy’s touch. It was warm and comforting. After a moment, it maneuvered your head into a particular position. Facing the mirror. 

The sight took a moment to register. Your flushed face with eyes barely open. Your lips were parted slightly in anticipation of a moan you held inside. And below was Buggy. His hair danced as he tasted you, his arm flexed as he touched you, his hips rolled as the erection that hid under the towel begged for attention.

Finally pulling his head away, Buggy locked eyes with your reflection. His lips glistened, covered in spit and sex. A drop of something fell from his mouth and onto his lap, joining others that fell earlier.

“Captain-” the word earned a soft gasp from your mouth, “-is this an appropriate apology?” The hand he left between your legs pulled another sound from your lips. A whiney moan, which Buggy happily took as an negative answer. “I can do more,” he offered.

Picking you up with disembodied arms, Buggy nearly dragged you back into the other room. All you could do was hold onto the ill-fitting hat with a weak grip, afraid to lose it in the brief journey. The pirate settled back onto the chair in front of his vanity, the light danced on the sheen of sweat coating his body. His cock, which had been freed when the towel was discarded at some point, twitched as Buggy brought you into place in front of him. It pulsed out a few drops of precum, which trickled down the already slick shaft.

“C’mere,” he encouraged, “I got you.” Buggy helped you straddle his lap and guided your hips until his wet tip was brushing against your entrance.

With one hand on his shoulder and the other still holding the damn hat, you eased yourself down and felt him stretch you open with a delicious ache. Buggy’s half-embedded cock throbbed against your tightness, adding to the pressure and pleasure. Craving more, you sunk down until his entire length was inside and you felt incredibly full. You moaned weakly and leaned into Buggy as you felt his cock fight for space within the confines of your body.

Buggy pulled you closer. He wrapped an arm around your waist and began to thrust. His head rested on your shoulder so he could whisper into your ear.

“M’so sorry, Captain.” “Please forgive me, I d-didn’t mean it.” “You’re so tight.” “Please let me keep fucking you.” “I p-promise to be good.” “C-captain, I’m s-sorry.”

Your own moans got louder with each apologetic thrust and you felt the tension in your core increase rapidly.

“F-fuck, I forgive you,” you cried. You wrapped your arms around Buggy and threaded a hand in his long hair, clinging to him tightly as your body threatened to give in and the hat threatened to fall off. “I want you to do this to me every day. I w-want you to fuck me like this every - haah - every day. C-captain’s orders…"

Buggy groaned and tightened his grip on your body. A hand slipped between your legs to give you the extra pressure you craved and he bucked into you ferociously as his control slipped. Pulling his face away from your neck, Buggy’s lips seeked out yours for a kiss.

“Every f-fucking day,” he said against your mouth.

The taste of his promise tipped you over the edge and Buggy greedily drank your moans and whimpers as you trembled and came on his cock. Buggy’s own high wasn’t far behind.

“Just a little longer,” he grunted, “I’m so close.”

“S’ok, t-take your time,” you mumbled softly, resting your forehead against his. 

Buggy’s body ignored the offer and allowed the climax to hit before the words finished leaving your mouth. His movements stuttered as he spilled inside your body. He could feel some of the cum escape with his movement and trickle down his balls. Eventually, his muscles gave out and he stilled beneath.

The two of you remained connected, stuck together with cum, sweat, and fondness. Your chests heaved, pulling in burning breaths after the unplanned morning workout. A few moments passed. You pushed yourself back a bit. Still seated on his lap and on him, you gazed at the man beneath you. Buggy’s trademark glare had settled onto his face. Not out of anger or frustration, but simply due to an empty head trying to reset itself.

Reaching out, you brushed away strands of cerulean hair that stuck to his skin. You raked your fingers through his hair, watching as his eyes closed and his expression softened. You pulled a few locks free on one side of his face and braided the long hair. Rather than combing through the ends as you worked, you let them twist as well, before pulling them through the braid to lock it in place. You adjusted the hair, fluffing it carefully, before moving onto the other side. Once that braid was complete, you gave it a little tug. And then the other one. And then the scowl returned. 

You returned Buggy’s expression with a smile and finally lifted the orange hat off your head. Buggy rolled his eyes and tilted his head forwards, ready to accept the responsibility you were bestowing back to him. The item was finally returned to its rightful owner.

Buggy plucked at the striped shirt you were wearing. “What do I need to do to get this back?” 

Movement inside your body betrayed the ideas already running through Buggy’s head. Eager to chase those ideas, you rolled your hips and pulled your captain in for a kiss.

#buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown #buggy smut #buggy x you #x reader #buggy op #opla buggy #one piece buggy #buggy the clown smut

[shadowlali]

hot chocolate and snickerdoodle cookies

COD AU - Phillip Graves x bed and breakfast owner!fem!reader

[18+] summary: Phillip visits a bed and breakfast from his childhood. He meets the new owner, a sweet soul who helps him grieve. wc: 6.3k masterlist

[photos found on pinterest, all credit to original owners of the photos above]

warnings: NSFW, some proofreading, DUAL P.O.V., no use of Y/N nor details on reader’s appearance, talks about losing loved ones (grandparent, great aunt, great uncle), soft!graves, pet names, unprotected sex, breeding kink, size kink (if you squint) a/n: happy new year's! here's my take at a soft (but still commanding) graves <3 thank you all for the support! when i started this blog in august i never though i'd have people read my stuff 😭 may you all have an amazing and blessed new year! also don't read too much into the layout/logistics of the bed and breakfast i've only been to like two or three lol

Phillip’s. P.O.V.

Phillip sits in his idling car, staring at the dreamy, two-story bed and breakfast. It’s covered in a light sheet of snow with a few cars parked in the front. Through the big, front window, he can see the orange flickers of light emanating from the fireplace. 

It’s been years since he’s last visited. Despite the welcoming atmosphere of the town and of the house, his heart hammers in his chest. He recognizes the same small grocery store, same tiny post office, same park… but it seems different? 

And it is, at least to him. His grandmother, the one who introduced him to this place decades ago, is long gone. It didn’t matter that his parents would abandon him months on end, he had his grandmother and that was more than enough. 

They stumbled on this town decades ago, when he was just a boy. Eventually it became a tradition. Every year his grandmother would bring him and every year they would stay in this bed and breakfast. He remembers the hot chocolate and snickerdoodle cookies and the soft beds. He remembers the older couple who owned the place, how kind and willing they were to include Phillip and his grandma in their holiday traditions.  

Then it stopped. He joined the military, was shipped all over the world and only saw his grandma a few times a year. She never seemed to mind, happy to see her grandson all grown up and doing something he loved. The time spent with her became less and less. Lines and white hair, a symbol of a life well lived, appeared on her. It only made her more beautiful to him. 

But time eventually caught up to her. Her hands shook when she reached for a cup of tea and it took her longer to walk up the stairs. Phillip didn’t want to stay away anymore. He had already thought of creating Shadow Company to be his own boss, his own commander. And his grandmother’s worsening condition only made him work faster to achieve that dream. 

He didn’t see her too often, but she stayed in his home, under the care of a specialized team. Once Shadow Company was built, they had only three holidays together. Three holidays spent in the cute mountain town in the same two-story bed and breakfast. On the last Christmas before her passing, he held in his tears. She was too frail to open her presents. It was difficult for her to walk without assistance and her memory had long begun to fail her. 

But they sat in front of the fireplace, surrounded by the chatter of the other guests and family of the owners. He held her softer hand in his and basked in the warmth of the flames and the love of his grandma. She turned slightly in her chair, covered under a mountain of blankets, and stared at his side profile. 

Phillip… my baby boy, she had said softly. He turned to look at her, feeling her soft hand cup his cheek. Yeah, gram? I’m right here. A few months after that, once they were back in Texas, she passed peacefully in her sleep. There were hundreds of cards and flowers sent by everyone who knew her. There were people he didn’t even recognize at her funeral. But it was a testament to how loved she was by those around her. 

The couple from the bed and breakfast visited and expressed how hurt they were by her passing. Their bodies were also frail and soon after they would pass too. He cried and cried and cried until there were no more tears. A strong, assertive soldier reduced to tears. Phillip walked around his grandmother’s room at his home and wrapped himself in the blankets she would knit. Time passed and he threw himself into his work, not thinking too much about her or the memories. 

Even now, many years later, it still pains his heart when he thinks of her. He doesn’t want to be here. He doesn’t want to see the park and the swings where she’d push him until he felt like he was flying. He doesn’t want to see the snow and think about the snow angels or the snowball fights they used to have. It hurts. It hurts so much to relive those memories. 

But he can’t live like this anymore. He wants to remember her and everything she did for him. Phillip wants to grieve properly even if he knows it’ll split his heart wide open. She deserves to be talked about and her memory deserves to be cherished. 

Before his surge of confidence fades, Philip turns off the SUV and grabs his luggage from the passenger seat. He jogs across the street, wanting to escape the cold. He reaches the porch, seeing Christmas lights wrap around the front posts. It's past Christmas now, only a few days away from New Years, but he can see the giant green tree with shiny ornaments through the window. 

Before he can knock on the door, it swings open. You stand there, encased in a knit sweater and leggings, looking way too sweet and soft for your own good. Phillip is left speechless for a moment, blinded by the smile on your pretty face.

“Hi! Welcome, come on in!” you say, motioning for him to enter the foyer. 

Phillip clears his throat and offers you a smile. “Thank you, sweetheart.” 

You close the door behind him, passing close enough for him to smell your perfume. Without thinking he breathes in deep, filling his lungs. He follows you to the front desk, wondering if you're related to the previous owners. As he gives his name and hands over his license he discreetly looks at your name tag. Phillip rolls your name quietly over his tongue, looking away once you take your eyes off of the computer. 

“You’ve been here before! Your name is in our system,” you exclaim. 

His heart pinches uncomfortably and before he can formulate a response you reach over on the desk and grab a picture frame. 

“I thought you looked like the boy in this photo… this is you, right? With your grandma and my great aunt and uncle!” 

He takes the picture frame from you, brushing against your soft hands. His breath catches in his throat and tears prick his eyes. It is him with his grandmother alongside what he now knows to be your great aunt and great uncle. He’s a young teen in this photo, at this point already taller than his grandma. 

“They passed when I was young but they always talked about you and her. You guys were like a second family to them,” your soft voice breaks through his thoughts. 

“They were–they were always so welcoming to us,” he whispers,” I have some great memories from this place.” 

He hands back the picture and you place it once more on the desk. You hand him a key and walk around the desk towards the hallway. 

“Well, Mr. Graves, I hope you’re able to create some new ones.” 

“Phillip is fine, sweetheart. No need for formalities.”

You hum, nodding your head slightly. You ask if he needs help with his luggage and he immediately says no, motioning you to continue walking. He follows you, taking in his surroundings. Not much has changed since he was last here. The same dark wood floors and furniture adorn the place. He sees photos of other guests on small tables and on the walls of the hallway. 

He breathes in the familiar scent of the home and lets the warmth wash over him. 

“Is it just you here? Do other family members help run the place?” Phillip asks as you lead him up the stairs. 

“It used to be my parents, but they left it to me. They said I’m more passionate about this house.” 

“I remember how packed it got when I was younger,” Phillip states,” we always made sure to make our reservations well in advance.” 

“It was like that a few days ago during Christmas,” you agree,” my parents came to help. I like it though, it’s always fun meeting new people.” 

You stop at the end of the hallway and open the door to the large bedroom. A canopy bed with white curtains and fluffy pillows is placed in the center of the room. There’s a large dresser and nightstand in the same dark wood style as the furniture throughout the house. It’s exactly as Phillip remembers. 

“I put towels in the bathroom for you and some extra blankets in the storage bench,” you say as you motion towards the ottoman at the end of the bed. “I’m down the hall if you need anything else.” 

“Thank you, doll. I think I’ll be just fine.” 

“Do you want any coffee or tea? I had just taken out the cookies from the oven before I saw you through our camera.” 

Phillip laughs, now understanding why you opened the door before he knocked. “No thank you, I think I’m just going to get ready for bed.” 

“Alright Mr. Gra–Phillip,” you remind yourself,” Have a good night!” 

- - - 

Phillip walks down the stairs, seeing cars leave the driveway from the window. 

“Bye, thank you for coming! Have a safe trip back home,” you call out through the open front door. 

“Mornin’,” he calls out. 

You close the door before turning towards him. “Goodmorning, Phillip! How’d you sleep? Do you want some coffee?” 

“Good, great actually. Those beds, wow, the softest I’ve ever slept on.” 

You laugh in agreement. “Yeah, they did good in choosing that brand of mattresses. Coffee? Or are you going out?” 

“Coffee would be great, doll.” 

He follows you to the dining room where he sees an assortment of pastries, eggs, coffee, juice, and other breakfast items on the table. 

“Any plans for today?” you ask while serving him a cup of coffee. 

He takes a moment to think about your question. He really isn’t sure where to begin in this town. There’s a few places his grandmother would take him, but Phillip wonders how difficult and uncomfortable it will be for him to revisit those places without her. It’s difficult enough to be in this place with the memories hitting him at every corner. 

“Uh, I’m not quite sure. Maybe take a walk around town.” 

You fiddle with your sweater as an anxious look crosses your face. “I found something this morning in the attic. Is it okay for me to show it to you?” 

Phillip’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion and he nods. You walk into the kitchen and a minute later walk out with a leather book in your hands. You pull out the chair next to Phillip, sit and open the book to reveal pages of photos. 

“It’s their photo album,” you explain,” from all of their guests. I went to look for some light bulbs and accidently knocked over a box. This was inside of it.” 

You flip some pages and land on photos of a younger Phillip and his grandmother. Phillip gently grabs the photo album and brings it closer to him. There’s pictures from the very first time they visited to pictures of him and his grandma ice skating at the park. Each flip of the page shows Phillip at different stages of his life and all around town or in the house. 

“I can tell by your face that this is as much of a surprise to you as it was to me.” 

Phillip nods,” I had no idea there were photos. Why do you think they kept these?” 

“I’m not quite sure, they never mentioned anything when I was younger. They only showed me the picture that’s on the front desk. Maybe they forgot about it?” 

Phillip nods absentmindedly, flipping through the many pages. Tears prick his eyes and he gets a wave of nostalgia and grief. Before a teardrop falls he quickly slams the book shut and pushes it back to you. 

“Thank you, uh, for showing me this,” Phillip murmurs as he stands up. 

“Oh! I’m sorry, Phillip,” you stress,” the last thing I wanted to do was make you sad. I just wanted to show you these because I know it makes me feel better when I look back through photos.”

Phillip stops in his tracks with your words. 

“It makes you feel better?” 

You nod quickly, standing up from your own chair and walking slowly towards Phillip. “I mean, of course it hurts to think that my loved ones aren’t here anymore. But, I have pictures and I have memories. I talk about them and I visit places we went together and I make new memories.” 

Phillip rubs a hand on his forehead, taking in your words. He wonders if this is where he should begin. Seeing those photos made Phillip feel emotions he hadn’t experienced in years. But that’s why he’s here, to honor her and no longer repress his memories. 

 “It’s–it’s hard for me to think about my grandma. I don’t know how to–to get through this sadness. It’s been so long but it still feels as if it just happened.” 

“Is that why you’re here? To process her passing?” 

“Yes,” Phillip whispers,” it’s funny, actually. I’m a soldier who’s used to running onto battlefields and dangerous territories without a second thought. But this,” he points to the photo album,” scares me… I’m not sure why I’m telling you all of this, but I feel like I can trust you.”

You beam at him, showing him the pretty smile that’s captivated him from the moment he first laid eyes on you. “Of course you can trust me Phillip. And I know we just met but you don’t have to be scared. I can help you if you’d like?” 

“How?” 

“Well,” you say while walking back to the photo album and flipping to the first page with his photos,” there’s a ton of activities you can do according to these pictures. Like ice skating at the park.” 

Phillip scratches his head, not quite up to do things alone. “I don’t know if I want to go by myself–” 

“Would you like me to go with you?” 

Phillip’s heart skips a beat at your suggestion. “You’d do that, sweetheart? Don’t you have guests here?” 

“No! You’re the last one until after New Year’s. I’d love to help you Phillip, but I also don’t want to interfere in any plans or bother you–” 

“No, no. That would actually be–be really helpful.” 

Phillip smiles back, entranced by the twinking in your eyes. 

“Anywhere in particular you’d like to go first?”

The walk to town is straight out of a movie with snow covering the many trees and rustic-like houses. Despite the cold, the town square is filled with people and laughter. Vendors are set up around the park, selling hot chocolate and different foods. 

“I’m not sure, what do ya’ think?” he asks. 

“How about the ice rink?” 

“Only to watch, not actually skate–” 

“What?” you exclaim. “No way. We’re getting on the ice!”

You link your hand in his and begin pulling him towards the open ice rink. He drags his feet, suddenly nervous at the idea of balancing on thin blades. He feels like an awkward teenager again, hoping he doesn’t make a fool of himself in front of the pretty girl he likes. 

“Come on, Phillip! You can’t hug the wall the entire time,” you call out. 

“I’m not huggin’ the damn— Jesus, fine.” Phillip responds, pushing off the railing and slowly skating towards you. 

You start skating backwards, moving farther away for Phillip to follow you. He’s lucky, the rink is mostly empty apart from a few others. 

“Where are you goin’ doll? How about we stay in one place–” 

“No, silly,” you tease him,” you need to re-learn how to skate. Plus, we need to recreate the picture.” 

“Recreate the picture?” 

You stop at his question and reach into your jacket pocket. Finally, he thinks as he approaches you. You pull out a stack of photos, the ones from inside of the photo album.  

“I brought them so we know exactly what to do. The tree is still up,” you say as you point to the giant christmas tree,” if you stand here I can take a picture and you’ll have a new one. I was thinking you could recreate some of the photos.” 

It’s a good idea, a sweet one at that. Even if his legs are slightly shaking from being unbalanced and he knows he’ll eventually make a fool out of himself on the ice, it’s a step in the right direction of the grieving process.

You skate around him and hold up your phone to take a photo. “Ready?” 

Phillip stands awkwardly, unsure of what to do. You call out a simple smile but it takes him a moment to do so. He looks around, watching children stumble on the ice and parents or grandparents there to pick them up and push them to try again. He turns to look at people walking through the park, couples hand in hand or children playing in the snow. He feels the wind ruffle his hair slightly and brush across his face. 

So he smiles. A genuine smile. One that doesn’t feel forced or sad. He hears the shutter sounds come from your phone and you skate towards him after a few clicks.

“Here, I think these look perfect,” you say as you show him the screen. 

“Okay, now it's your turn–” 

“No, Phillip. I don’t need any pictures–” 

He makes a tsk sounds and grabs your hand before you're able to skate away. “We’ll take one together, that’s my compromise to your idea.” 

You roll your eyes playful at him but nonetheless hand him your phone. His pulse flutters on his neck as you lean in closer while he snaps a photo of the both of you. Phillip hands you the phone and you playfully bump into him as you skate away. 

“Okay,” he warns,” we’re done here–” 

“Show me what you got, Commander.” 

After the third time he slips and lands on his butt, you finally decide to leave for the next task. His ego is bruised only a little, the giggles and soft hands you offered every time he fell down were worth the minor embarrassment. 

“The hot chocolate your great aunt made was amazing, but I remember liking this one too,” Phillip says once inside the little bakery. 

“Her secret was maple syrup and dark chocolate. I haven’t been able to recreate it exactly like hers but I’m still trying.” 

The both of you reach the front counter and you order a hot chocolate and sugar donut while Phillip orders a coffee and croissant. 

“Coffee? No, Phillip! You need to order a hot chocolate–he’ll get a hot chocolate instead,” you tell the employee. 

“Wait–” he starts, but by then the employee has left to prepare the order. “You do realize that I’m a grown man?” 

“And? Where’s your childlike wonder? Where’s your inner child, Phillip?” you tease. 

You try to pay using your card but Phillip pushes your hand away. “What’re you doin’?” 

“It’s my treat, Phil–” 

“Don’t be silly, doll,” he gently chastises. 

You find a table and sit down, Phillip sliding into the booth right next to you. You cheers his cup and Phillip watches you take a sip. A jolt of arousal hits him the moment you moan at the taste of the drink. Phillip looks away quickly once you make eye contact, feeling himself overheat. He’s usually not so shy around women, quite the opposite actually. 

But the emotions he’s experiencing with you are… new. And it’s not because you’re helping him and he’s somehow replacing his grandmother’s memory with you, it’s because you’re sweet. You don’t even know him, yet since the minute you spoke to him you were genuine in your kindness. Here you are now, helping him with your encouraging words and pretty face. 

You give him a shy smile and place a hand on his cheek, turning his face towards his own cup. “Try it, Phillip!” 

He takes a sip, immediately transported back to his childhood. “Yup, this is just how I remember.” 

He hears the shutter of a camera and turns to see you taking pictures of him. He takes the phone from your hands and has you pose to take some of you then of you two together. 

In just a few short hours, you’re able to help him recreate most of the photos. By late afternoon, snow begins to fall, landing on your cheeks and eyelashes. The both of you are standing outside the bed and breakfast, admiring a snowman left by one of the guests. He’s enthralled, listening to the rasp of your voice while you recount a story of a snowman you built when you were younger. 

You tilt your head back, watching the snowflakes drift down slowly from the sky. He watches them land on your lips and soft skin, suddenly jealous that the snowflakes get to kiss you first. 

“Anyways, hungry? Phillip?” you ask, a confused look on your face at his silence.

“Right–yeah, I mean yes,” he stammers out, feeling his face heat. 

“How about I cook us something–” 

“Let me, as a thank you for today. Going out of your way to help me alleviate the pain, let me at least repay the favor.” Phillip interrupts. 

“You don’t have to repay–”

“Show me to the kitchen, sweetheart.” 

The busy bee that you are, he soon realizes, you do show him the kitchen but immediately begin cleaning the now empty rooms. He prepares a dish he knows too well, roasted chicken and an assortment of vegetables he finds in the fridge. Even with the soft music playing in the living room and the crackle of the fireplace, he can hear you gently humming from the hallway while you sweep.

He sets another pot of coffee and hears a knock on the front door. You jog to the door and open it, saying hello and thank you so much before shutting the door and walking away. Phillip finishes cooking and washing the dishes he used about an hour later and calls you over to the dining room. 

“Who knew the Commander could cook?” you praise him. 

He smiles at your comment, a slight flush appearing on his neck. “I’m a real jack-of-all-trades.” 

After dinner, the both of you sit in front of the fireplace, basking in the warmth. He listens as you talk about your New Year’s resolutions, mainly wanting to find the time and energy to travel more. Phillip finds comfort in your voice, allowing himself to fantasize what it would be like to retire from Shadow Company and travel the world with you. It’s crazy, since he just met you, but he allows himself to imagine. 

“I don’t even know what day it is today. Once Christmas passes it’s hard to keep track. Oh,” you say after a yawn,” I almost forgot.” 

You jump out of your seat and pad quickly up the stairs. He listens to your soft footsteps walk around the second floor, then you come back down with another leather book. 

“I know I’ve already airdropped the photos to you, but I thought you’d like this as well.” 

He takes the book from your hands and opens it, finding all of the old photos matched to the new ones. It’s the pictures of himself, in front or in the middle of whatever activity he and his grandmother were doing. He flips through the pages, finding comfort in her smile, knowing she’d want him to be happy, to not hold onto the pain but only remember the good times they spent together. 

He turns to look at you, uncaring that there’s tears in his eyes. “I don’t know what to say, thank you doesn’t seem like enough.” 

“It’s more than enough, Phillip,” you whisper, reaching to wipe away a teardrop with your thumb,” Through your stories and the stories of my great aunt and uncle, I feel like I got to know her too.” 

“How’d ya’ get these printed so fast?” 

“I had my friend at the print shop do it!”

You pull your hand back but Phillip grabs it, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand and another to your wrist. He leaves his lips there for a moment, feeling the flutter of your pulse. He hears the sharp intake of your breath and places another kiss on your skin. You pull your hand away slowly and stand up, leaning over to place a kiss on his cheek. 

“I’ll leave you to look through the photo album. I think it’d be good for you to have some alone time, yeah?” 

Phillip nods his head in agreement,“ thank you again, doll.” 

Once you're upstairs and he hears the sound of water running from your shower, he allows himself to cry. He traces his fingertips on his grandmother’s face, wishing she were still here. He cries until he can barely see, until the photos become too blurry to focus on. 

He cries for keeping the memories locked away in his mind for so many years, for not cherishing her memory. He cries for your thoughtfulness and for your gift. Eventually, he makes his way upstairs and falls heavy on the bed. Exhaustion takes control and he falls asleep, the book still in his hand. 

- - - 

Reader’s P.O.V. 

You’re up early the next morning, like most days. You hear the front door close as you descend the stairs and once you open the blinds, you see Phillip walking in the distance towards the town. He seemed like he appreciated the gift, and you really hope he liked it. The night before, you could hear his sobs and it took everything in you not to come back down and comfort him. But, he needed his time alone. 

You finish cleaning up the rest of the rooms, really only needing to put the sheets and towels to wash as you had finished most chores the night before. You’re in the process of starting a fresh pot of coffee and taking muffins out of the oven when you see someone out of the corner of your eye. You turn and find Phillip leaning against the doorjamb with a small smile on his face. 

“Good morning, Phillip. How’d you sleep?” 

“Mornin’ sweet girl,” he pauses and takes a deep breath before responding,”... good. I had a good night's rest. How ‘bout you?” 

“Great!” you respond, a smile spreading across your face. 

He places a paper bag from your friend’s print shop on the table. “I have something for you.”

“Oh?” 

Phillip pulls out a lavender colored photo album from the bag and presents it to you. 

“Oh, Phillip. You didn’t have to buy me a new one! We have a ton of them all over–” 

“Doll,” he interrupts,” open it.” 

You take it and open up the album, gasping as you see the pictures from the day before. There’s some of you ice skating and of you drinking hot chocolate at the bakery and of course the pictures Phillip took of the both of you. 

“This is–wow, Phillip,” you whisper,” I don’t know what to say. This is incredibly sweet of you.”

You flip through the pages for a few minutes, seeing you and Phillip posing. He took time out of his day to not only print the photos, but rearrange them in the album. Your heart beats fast in your chest, the crush you have on him only growing. Without another word you wrap your arms around Phillip. He returns the hug immediately, placing a kiss on your forehead. 

“I’m grateful, ya’ know? To you, for being with me while I work through it all,” Phillip says once you pull back,” I still have a lot to do on my own. But you were there, encouraging me to take the first step. The major first step.” 

He cups the side of your face and you can’t help but lean into his touch. You’re sure you have a dreamy look in your eyes, completely taken aback by the blue of his. 

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he whispers. 

“What–” 

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, his eyes flicking from yours back to your lips. 

You nod, meeting him halfway. His lips are soft and plush. Phillip cups the back of your head with one hand while the other is placed on your lower back. You run light fingers through his thick hair, running the tip of your tongue on his bottom lip. Phillip groans, pushing his hips into yours. 

He grinds his erection into your lower belly and moves his hand to cup the curve of your bottom. You lift up your thigh and wrap your leg around his waist. He angles his hips to grind right against your clothed pussy, eliciting a whimper from your mouth. 

Phillip breaks away from the kiss, trailing open mouth kisses to your throat. “Let me take you upstairs,” he groans,” please, sweet girl.” 

“Yes, yes, Phillip.” 

In under two minutes Phillip is able to get you up to your room. You stand at the edge of your bed while he kisses a path over your clothed breasts and down to the waistband of your leggings. He pulls them down, trailing his lips over the soft skin of your thighs. You wiggle out of them, goosebumps erupting on your sensitive skin. 

He presses open mouth kisses to your cotton panties, looping his fingers on the sides and pulling them down slowly. You're wet and achy and hot, all thanks to him. You grip the edges of your sweater and pull it off. Phillip stands to unclip your bra, immediately latching his mouth to your swollen nipples. You link your fingers in his hair and tug, feeling his teeth bite gently on your skin.

“So pretty, aren’t you?” Phillip whispers while gently pushing you to lay on the bed. 

He brings your hips right to the edge, spreading open your thighs and running light fingers over your slit. 

“All wet and swollen just f’me,” he groans. 

You nod even though he’s not looking at you, more focused on kneeling and burying his face in your cunt. “Just for you, just for you–oh god!” 

He licks a broad, quick stripe from your entrance to your sensitive clit. He does it again, lapping up your juices. 

“Phillip,” you drag his name out in a long moan. 

“What baby?” he teases,” you want more?” 

He slips a finger inside your drooling entrance, moans erupting from the both of you. He fucks into you gently, adding a second finger and swiping his tongue through your folds. Phillip’s tongue swipes up and up and over your clit repeatedly. You twist and squirm your hips, feeling electricity coil in your tummy. You thank the gods that the house is completely empty because the sounds emanating from your mouth are dirty. 

“Such a sweet girl,” Phillip coos against your wet skin,” keep makin’ those sounds f’me.” 

Phillip curves his fingers and speeds up his movements, the wet from your pussy only making it easier. So soft and beautiful girl falls from his lips the few moments he comes up for air. You feel heat spread rapidly through your body and then you're falling, falling, falling into the abyss, gripping the comforter tightly to hold you in place. He places a strong hand on your stomach to keep you still while you writhe from his tongue and fingers. 

“Oka–okay, no mo–more,” you cry out, shaking from the intensity of the aftershocks. 

“You made such a pretty mess,” he groans. 

Phillip removes his fingers, placing his forehead on your inner thigh. He breathes in deep and places tiny, wet kisses up to your tummy. 

“How was that, sweetheart? Wanna keep going?” he whispers, biting the sensitive skin on your chest. 

You move your hands to cup his face and bring him in for a kiss. You lick and bite his jaw, cleaning up your mess and leaving behind red marks on his skin. He falls perfectly between your thighs, lightly grinding his still clothed erection on your sensitive skin. 

“You’re wearing too much clothes,” you murmur, sliding your hands underneath his crew neck sweater. “Take them off,” you giggle. 

“Yes ma’am,” he says, quickly sliding off the bed. 

You sit up and watch as he throws off his sweater and then unbuckles his jeans. While he pushes them down, you bring a hand to his muscled stomach, stroking the heated skin. His cock comes into view and you gasp slightly at the size. You reach a hand down to gently stroke his length, shivering at the feel. 

“Don’t worry doll,” he moans,” you can take me.”

He grasps your hand, lay back down, whispered in the quiet room. Phillip climbs on the bed and spreads your thighs to accommodate his hips. He wraps your thigh around his waist and rubs his thick cock between your folds. You reach a hand down and guide him right to your dripping entrance. You throw your head back into the soft pillows, feeling him slide into your messy cunt. He works himself all the way in, his eyes half lidded and jaw clenched. 

“Phillip,” you whimper,” you’re deep, baby.” 

“Fuck, like if you–if you were ma–made f’me,” he mutters. 

Phillip hips fuse to yours and you feel the coarse hair on his groin rub on your wet skin. He stays still, running hands over your thighs and up to your swollen nipples, breathe, baby, he repeats to you. He runs his thumb over your lips, sliding it into the warmth of your mouth. 

He stretches you, reaches deep inside of you with his thick cock. You squeeze him, adjusting to his size and the feel of him all around you. He slides back out slowly, gripping your thigh for a better angle. In one swift movement he pushes back in. You suck and bite his thumb, gagging slightly when he pushes it deeper into your mouth. 

“Honey, fuck–you feel like honey,” he groans, keeping his eyes locked where you two are joined. 

He slips his thumb out of your mouth and moves it to rub small circles on your clit.

“Like that, just like that,” you cry. 

Phillip keeps the pace, sliding out and pushing all the way back in. You become limp in his hands, molded by his touch and by his cock. He reaches your cervix with each thrust, kissing the end of you, deeper that anyone else has ever reached. 

“Feels good, doll?” he asks, moving faster. “Am I stretching this little pussy?” 

Tears fall from the corner of your eyes from the intensity. You nod dumbly, entranced by him. His eyes are almost black, pupils dilated. 

“My swe–sweet girl,” he groans,” so tight.” 

“So good–i’m so– i’m so,” you stammer. 

“I know, baby,” he coos,” you’ve been so good.” His thumb swipes through your folds, gathering your wetness and back up to strum your clit. “Let go, I’ve got you.” 

He leans over you, pistoning his hips and rolling your clit with his slick thumb. Your vision blurs then electricity shoots up your spine again. Your mouth opens in a chorus of moans and whimpers. Vaguely, you hear Phillip praise you that’s it, come for me baby, my pretty girl. 

He finishes soon after, falling on top of you and burying his head in your neck while he fucks you sloppy through your aftershocks. You feel spurts of warmth as he comes inside of you, marking you. You hear his groans and slight whimpers in your ear while his hips jerk and twitch.

You’re exhausted, body deliciously aching and limp. Your eyes droop as you feel the pull of sleep almost take you. Phillip groans as he leans back, pulling out slowly. You feel the drip of his come slide out of land on the sheets. Phillip uses his fingers to push some of it back in. 

“There,” he whispers,” back to where it belongs.” 

You roll your eyes but Phillip catches you, slapping your inner thigh. You giggle as he stands, watching while he walks into the bathroom and comes back with a washcloth. He cleans the mess on your inner thighs then cleans himself. 

“Take a nap with me,” you plead. 

“Tempting, but have you eaten?” 

You blink, realizing you were in the process of making breakfast before he arrived. 

“Eat first, nap later,” he commands, walking to your drawer and pulling out one of your sweaters, linen pants, and thick socks. 

Once you’re dressed, he has you wait on the bed while he goes back to his room to change into new clothes. You walk down the stairs together, you, a little more slowly from the ache between your thighs. You push his shoulder as you see him smirk, only slightly annoyed by him. 

After breakfast you fall asleep on the living room floor, Phillip setting up the fireplace and placing a mountain of blankets in front of it. You wake a while later, feeling lax but surprisingly energized. You walk into the kitchen, noticing the sun setting from the window. 

“I think today is New Year’s Eve, doll,” Phillip says behind you. 

You check your phone while Phillip rubs the sleep from his eyes, noticing that it is in fact New Year’s Eve. The days got away from me, you think, leaning into Phillip’s embrace, in the best way possible. 

“Will you help me make hot chocolate?” you ask. “I want to try again with the recipe.” 

“As long as you teach me how to make snickerdoodle cookies,” Phillip agrees, placing a kiss on the tip of your nose. 

“Deal.” 

By the time both tasks are finished, you and Phillip find yourselves in the back patio, wrapped in blankets with two cups of delicious hot chocolate and a plate of snickerdoodle cookies. The clock strikes midnight and fireworks light up the sky, Phillip gently grasping your chin while he gives you a New Year's kiss. 

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[that-basic-simp]

Princess

Mizu x Fem!Reader CW: N/A WC: 1.2k+

I walked down a line of suitors that my father had picked out for me. They were mostly older men, something I did not cater to well, but this was the world I lived in. Where women are to be married off to an older man. It wasn't right, but I had to live with it. I had no say in the matter, especially since my father was a highly respected lord and I was the princess of our clan. However, there was this one person who kept popping up in the back of my head. It was someone I had just recently seen when I was coming home.

They were right by the carriage and when I picked my head up, our eyes met. He was wearing these tinted glasses and a large hat was on his head. There was something odd that made him stick out to me. Something that these men didn't have to offer. After rejecting every man here, my father audibly sighed. I understood why he was frustrated, but I was frustrated, too. Once the men left, he turned towards me.

"Do you not want to get married? To have a happy life?"

"I have a happy life here, unmarried," I said.

"What is it?" he asked. "There has to be something that is bothering you."

"There is no spark with these men."

"You're not even giving them a chance."

"Says you. You line them up and say pick whichever one you want. Like they're having a contest to test if they're handsome or not."

"What is bothering you?"

"There was this man when I was on my way here," I said.

"And?"

"There was something odd about him. Something I couldn't put my finger on, but it made it all the more attractive. I wanted to get to know what that odd feeling was whenever I looked at him. I want to know why he is mysterious."

"Hmm. What did he look like?"

"He had orange tinted glasses, a large hat on his head, and a cloak. Oh and there was something around his neck."

"And he's here?"

"Yes."

There was silence before my father nodded, "Alright. I'll see if the locals know where he went. I'll bring him here."

"Really?!"

"Yes."

I smiled and hugged my father, "Thank you!"

"I hope that you can give him a chance."

"I will, father."

"Why did you follow me out here?" Mizu asked.

"I was worried about you," I said.

"You're following someone who is out for revenge. Not someone who wants love right now."

"What we had, was it real to you?"

Mizu looked over at me, some confusion going on in her eyes. They flicked back and forth from me and the wall.

"I-I--" she couldn't even answer that question.

"I didn't judge when you told me you were a woman. That you were not what I thought you were. And yet, I stayed with you. I still loved you."

"You're loving the wrong person, Y/N. You're loving me for the person who I was presenting to you. After your father gave me his permission to marry you, I knew you deserved better."

"Deserved better how?"

"For starters, an actual man. Not a woman pretending to be one. And someone who will actually love you."

"So what we had wasn't real?" I asked, a hurtful expression appearing.

"That's not what I meant," Mizu turned and grabbed my hand. She let out a sigh, shaking her head. "Someone who will love to put you first. Someone who will take care of you no matter what."

"You took care of me."

"But I had to leave for my mission. To kill those white men."

"I know you told me this. And I support you going through with it."

"Do you?" she asked, a questioning look in her eyes.

"I do," I said confidently.

"Then you will let me go. And move on to find someone who is deserving of you. Who you are deserving of."

"I can't," I said, my voice breaking slightly.

"Why?"

"Because I love you, Mizu."

She let out a sigh before pulling me in for a hug. Her arms wrapped tightly around me and I hugged her back, embracing the warmth she had.

"Even though I didn't really say it often, I do love you, Y/N."

"And I know you don't want me to move on."

"What makes you say that?" she asked.

"Just how protective you were over me even when someone looked at me the wrong way. Like you were going to gouge their eyes out."

"Well," she pulled away to find my eyes. "You are mine, after all."

I smiled, some blush crawling onto my cheeks.

"You're right. I don't want you to move on to find someone. But you do deserve better. A-And once I finish everything, I will do better."

"Thank you, Mizu."

The door opened and Ringo walked in. Mizu glared at him for not warning us first.

"You got a girl," he said. "A pretty girl. Wait, how does that work?"

"Ringo, this is Y/N. She has been secretly following me, but I am grateful," she softly smiled at me. "She's also a princess," she looked over at Ringo before turning back to face me."My princess."

I smiled, some more blush crawling onto my cheeks. I knew something that would make Mizu blush heavily. It was mostly PDA, but since it was Ringo, I knew we were going to be fine. But even then, Mizu doesn't like it when I show her off. She would sometimes show me off whenever we were starting our relationship, before my father told her she could marry me. Leaning towards her, I pressed a kiss to her cheek. She stood there frozen, a deep red color flushing across her cheeks. I giggled and did it once more, that red growing deeper. It looked like she wanted to reach for her Kasa and cover her face. I loved it when I could get her flustered.

"A-A minute alone, Ringo, please."

Ringo nodded and walked out of the room, his footsteps echoing down the hall until they stopped. Mizu turned and faced me once more, grabbing onto my hands.

"My princess," she whispered.

It was a cute nickname she had given me when we started our relationship. To say it was rocky at the beginning is an understatement. She was down right not willing to do anything with me whenever my father brought her to the palace. She immediately wanted to leave and fought a few guards. Almost about to leave, I stopped and just talked with her. We walked around the courtyard and talked for a bit. She told me about her pursuit of revenge while I talked about how boring it was to live this kind of life. She was jealous of me to say the least. But she worked on that. Now, people are jealous of her whenever her and I are together.

"You should head on home," she said. "This next part will be dangerous and I can't afford to lose you."

"I can't afford to lose you either."

"I'm stubborn. You know it," she chuckled. "My body won't let me die until I have finished everything. And when I finish what needs to be done, I will come back to you and we will get married. We will have a life together. Just you and I."

I smiled, some tears forming in my eyes as that was all I wanted from her. Was to just be with her and live the rest of our days out together. To grow old with her and experience the changes of the world as we grew older and older. She placed her hands on my cheeks, swiping the tears away with her thumbs. She pressed a kiss to my forehead before lightly pecking my lips.

"I love you, my princess."

"I love you, too, my water lily."

#bes mizu #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu x reader #mizu #blue eye samurai

[kaciidubs]

hi hi hi!!! today i offer to you: inexperienced!puppy!chan who's so so so eager to learn everthing you teach him. like imagine teaching him how to fuck you properly and he excels at it but in true chan fashion he has NO idea how crazy he's driving you. like imagine him burying his fingers deep into you, finding your sweet spot without even trying and moving his fingers in such a way that has your toes curling and back arching. and then he asks in the most sweet and innocent voice, "is this how i should do it? am i doing it right?" also puppy!chan (or any kind of chan for that matter) THRIVES on your praise so call him your good boy once and he's doinh everything you tell him to. like just imagine training puppy!chan how to pleasure you and he takes in that information in SO quickly and applies it so quickly too. i'm just–yeah🥴

Hi hi, my darling! Puppy! Chan gets my gears going, but inexperienced puppy! Chan?? Yeah, this is a need. ❣ Word Count: 1.8k ❣ Warnings: Puppy Switch! Chris, Switch! Reader, fluff, smut, Dom/Sub dynamics, guided sex, praise, open ended ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chris, Channie, Baby, Puppy, Reader is referred to as Baby, Love

Chris was a pleaser in every sense of the word, and you were no exception - if he could do something to make you happy, he'd do it in the blink of an eye.

So, when it came to the concept of being intimate with you, he was more than willing to start from ground zero; learning what touches made you shiver, where you liked being kissed, and how he could get you to melt into him without even getting your shirt off.

Through this experience you happened to learn that he was very eager to be bossed around - brown eyes watching you intensely as he listened to every syllable that left your lips, directing his body to do as you said like the good boy he was.

Of course, he had needs of his own - ways he wanted to see you fall apart that haunted his waking thoughts like a beautiful nightmare.

"I... I'd really like to finger you, love."

You had to stop yourself from lovingly laughing at his timidness, clocking the blush on the tips of his ears from a mile away - ever the earnest lover.

"Okay, baby - want me to show you how?"

With his eager nod more than sufficient for confirmation, you tossed your phone to the side and began setting the stage - your bed - for his personal lesson.

"I'm sure you don't need a formal introduction to my pussy, do you?" You giggled as you laid on the bed, a pillow propped under your head for support as you watched him wiggle his way between your spread legs.

If there was a way to describe his face during moments like this, it would have to be awe inducing - no matter how many times he'd seen you naked, intimately or in passing, he looked as if his world had stopped and you were the only person that mattered.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head as slightly faded orange curls brushed his forehead, "No, I don't." Parting your folds with his index and middle, a shiver ran down his spine at the faint shine of your arousal, "Hi, beautiful."

Within your time together, he was considerably acquainted with your cunt - keeping his head between your legs for so long you could still feel the phantom touch of his tongue days later - but he was insistent on taking things slow so he could treat you the way you deserved when he had the proper chance to, and you weren't complaining at all.

Where he wanted to learn how to pleasure you in ways that didn't directly involve his dick, you wanted to see just how well he would put his lessons to use down the - unknowingly short - line.

It didn't take long for the slow, languid curls of his tongue, and the subtle pressure of the tip of his nose bumping against your clit, to have you melting like an ice cream cone on a hot summer day.

"Y-You can start using your fingers if you want, baby," You breathed, threading your fingers through his hair, your nails lightly grazing his scalp earning you a low groan in return.

Chris pulled away a second later, looking up at you with lust blown eyes, "Are you sure?"

"If you don't use yours, I'm gonna use mine, Christopher."

Taking your threat to heart - and pocketing it for a future session - he dragged his index finger through your spit-slicked folds before gently prodding at your slit.

"Tell me-"

"-if it hurts, I know - it's just the first finger, it'll be fine."

And you were right, his finger parting your walls with ease due to how wet you were already - the both of you letting out matching sighs of relief and awe.

"You're so warm." He seemed to talk more to himself than to you as he slowly pumped his finger in and out, eyes trained on the way his skin shined with your arousal.

If this were the past you would've been embarrassed from the intense stare and almost curious prodding, but with Chris things were different - you welcomed the curiosity sprinkled into his tone, and the awe that sparkled underneath the warm adoration he exuded.

"You know," you hummed, easily catching his attention, "instead of using your index finger, you can use your middle and ring fingers, puppy - it's more comfortable that way."

Nodding dutifully, his finger left you slowly, only to be brought up to his mouth and slip past his plush lips.

Sure, you've seen him lick your arousal from his lips plenty of times before, but watching the pure euphoric flutter of his eyes as he sucked his finger clean had you clenching around air - he was going to be the death of you, and you could only imagine how it would be when you two finally took it to the next level.

He released his finger with a satisfied moan, "Have I ever told you how fucking delicious you taste?"

A teasing smile curled your lips, "Hm, once or twice."

"Well let's make it three times," bringing his hand back to your pussy, he traced his fingers around your entrance once more, "you taste delicious, baby - I don't think I can survive without it at this point."

You wished you could attribute the roll of your eyes to his dramatics, but as his thick, knobby fingers stretched your walls, your head fell back against the pillow as a moan floated past your lips.

Even with just two fingers he was able to reach spots you could just barely get to on your own, and this fact alone had you twitching in anticipation.

"Should I..." Chris licked his lips, mesmerized by the snug fit on his fingers within you, "Can I keep going?"

"Yeah, yeah- god, it feels amazing already."

Soon his fingers were gliding in and out of you at a decent speed as he got used to the motion, going faster as your breathing picked up before slowing down just as your moans became frequent - continuing this dance of push and pull that kept you in a delicious limbo.

A particular curve of his fingers on an outward drag had your hips jolting, a shocked gasp breaking through a breathless moan.

"Oh- Fuck!"

"Are you okay?"

Your eyes snapped open, looking down to shoot him a confused look until you were met with innocent worry - he hadn't done it on purpose.

"I'm- I'm okay, you just- Ah!"

Despite his apparent worry, the movement of his hand didn't stop, and you were yet again subjected to the graze of his fingers against your g-spot.

"I found it, hm?"

You could only reply with frantic nods, melting against the sheets as he kept his pace steady with the occasional curl of his fingers to keep you on your curled toes.

"B-Baby, faster."

"Faster?"

Feeling the bed shift slightly, his lips left a fleeting kiss on the inside of your thigh before you felt his body partially hover over yours; lips now seeking home on the crook of your neck.

This reprieve was short lived as his rhythm sped up without warning, your back arching as moans vibrated your vocal chords. Your hands scrambled for purchase on the t-shirt he shockingly kept on, gripping the cotton in your fists.

"O-Oh my god, Chris!"

His panted breaths rolled along your neck while muted grunts caught against your skin; the sounds of your breathless moans and slick squelches of your arousal filling his ears.

"You can- Fuck- U-Use your thumb to rub my clit, puppy."

"Yeah? But I won't be able to go as hard..."

"It's okay - please, I just need more, baby."

Pulling his head from your neck, he took in your fucked out expression as he stilled his hand to press his thumb against the small bundle of nerves, rotating in small circles just like he usually did with his tongue.

When you flinched he pulled away, the beginnings of an apology forming on his lips until you stopped him in his tracks.

"No, no - you're doing great, Channie, just - not too hard, and move your thumb a little to the left."

He nodded, adjusting his thumb with a tilt of his head, "Right here?"

A small giggle escaped you, "My left, puppy."

Noting the blush darkening his ears, he made the change yet again and the result was more than he could've ever expected; your pussy clenching around his fingers as your eyelids fluttered, a familiar haze fogging your eyes.

"Like this?" He mused, curling his fingers in a 'come hither' motion for additional stimulation, "Am I doing it right?"

You keened, tears of pleasure stinging your eyes as you nodded, "M-Mhm, you're doing s-such a good job, puppy- Oh, fuck- you're amazing, baby."

His heart swelled at the praise - much like his dick currently confined underneath his boxer briefs - and he focused his efforts on adding minute thrusts of his hand while keeping up the flicks of his thumb.

Unfinished sentences fell from your lips like breaths of air, a jumble of praises and half-baked thoughts breaking up whimpers and moans that you had no intentions of holding back.

"You're so pretty like this," he breathed softly, drinking in the furrow of your brow, the faint glisten of drool at the corner of your lips, "fucking beautiful, baby. You're squeezing my fingers so tight - you're close, yeah? Gonna come for me?"

You made a noise, something you hoped was a sound of agreement underneath the endless whimpers of his name.

Chris leaned down to brush his lips against yours, a soft, tender motion that had your heart soaring and your orgasm rocketing you into outer space without so much as a warning.

Your back arched as you pulled at his shirt - at this point, you'd be surprised if it hadn't torn from the force - as your cum soaked his fingers and the curve of your ass.

His hips bucked against your thigh, moaning against your mouth as he fingered you through your high with gentle strokes.

It didn't take long for you to come back to your senses, a breathless laugh shaking your shoulders while you released your death grip on his poor wrinkled shirt.

"You... You are way too good at that," blinking up at him, you narrowed your eyes playfully, "are you sure you haven't fingered anyone before?"

That wonderfully high pitched, squeaky laugh escaped him, "I swear I haven't!" Slowly pulling his fingers from your fluttering walls, he made a show of licking the pads, "I guess I'm just a fast learner, you know?"

Grabbing his wrist, you slipped those same fingers into your mouth, moaning at your taste around his digits and licking them clean before releasing them with a soft pop.

"In that case..." You lifted your leg slightly, brushing your thigh against his hard on with a sly grin, "Can you teach me how to use my hands?"

[unedited]

#✧. ┊ kacii answers #✧. ┊ lovely bahng-chrizz #skz smut #stray kids smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #bangchan x reader