#do the three in front have names we know???
Text
The Arrangement // Mafia!Lando x Reader
WC: 1.7k
Warnings: none that I can think of
Author's note: This was so fun to write, I hope you guys enjoy it 🧡
“I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” you sighed looking incredulously up at the ceiling.
“Well believe it because he’ll be here any minute,” your father said sitting behind his desk.
There was a quick knock on the office door before it parted to reveal your mother standing there, an exaggerated grin on her face. She beckoned you closer and you went to her begrudgingly. She grabbed your chin looking you over and started smoothing out your outfit.
“You know how much this means for both our families. Don't embarrass us now, sweetie.”
You rolled your eyes and refused to respond as he three of you trekked the halls leading to wherever your soon-to-be husband was.
He was standing there looking rather curiously at the art work that adorned the ornate dining room.
You hated the sound of your name on his lips and the cheeky grin that accompanied it as he turned around. Your arms were folded in irritation as you gave a simple greeting, letting the awkwardness grow.
“Sweetheart, why don’t you show Lando the rose garden?” Your mother chided hopefully, knowing that without being prompted you would never move things along for Lando’s visit. You were going to make a joke about the future kingpin’s disinterest in flowers before Lando spoke up with a playful tone.
“I would love that.” Oh he was eating this up.
“It’ll be good for you two to have some alone time before the wedding.” Your father remained silent as your overzealous mother aligned the pieces to connect your family to the most notorious mob in the country.
Lando was all too excited to appease your mother’s wishes. A rough palm reached out and collected your hand dragging you towards the back entrance of your home.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I don’t know anything about you.”
Your finance rolled his eyes before responding to your claim. “We’ve known each other for years, and this” he motioned between the two of you. “Was something we always knew would happen. No point in complaining,” he shrugged seeming as carefree as he always appeared for someone in his position.
But Lando was right. You’d both grown up in relative proximity to one another, your families’ mafia ties linking the two of you in ways that ran deeper than you’d ever comprehend.
“Alright fine,” you threw up your hands while standing up in front of him. “If we’re gonna do this we’re doing it my way.”
Lando nodded, the appearance of his dimples telling you how comical he found your sudden interest in your present circumstances. “Ask away, love. Whatever you want and it’s yours.”
You hummed before rattling off the shortlist of needs you’d like to be met before you walked down the aisle to marry the mafia prince.
“Well for starters I want a ring. I big one. Like really big. Do not get me anything princess cut. Too predictable and cheap looking.” Lando was going to interject but you continued. “I don’t care if it’s gold or silver as long as it looks classy. Maybe a nice cushion cut or a Marquise. Dutch marquise,” you quickly added. “Oh and I wear a size 7.”
Lando took your brief pause as an opportunity to speak. “Should I be taking notes on all this,” he laughed and licked his lips clearly having fun with your pre-wedding demands. “Alright, now that I know what you want I promise I’ll deliver.” You knew he wasn’t lying. The Norris’ family was one of the wealthiest around, their fortune managed to dwarf the elaborate lifestyle your family’s own mob ties afforded you.
“Okay, good. Glad we got that out of the way. Now if you’ll excuse me,” you pointed your thumb in the direction of your home, “I’d like to get back to enjoying the rest of my night.”
Lando was quick to his feet, his hand catching your wrist as you started towards the large mansion. “We’ve spent all night going over what you want, don’t you even care about what I’d like?” He questioned with a playful glimmer in his watercolored eyes.
“I couldn’t care less,” you turned and began walking again before Lando stopped you, grabbing your shoulders and spinning you to face him.
“That really hurts you know.” You rolled your eyes and glared at him. Leave it to Lando to make this situation into a joke.
“Fine, what do you want? Separate houses? A girlfriend on the side? Whatever it is I really don’t care.”
“Honestly…” he trailed off, his hand rubbing nervously at the back of his neck. “I want us to give this a shot.” The words had barely left his mouth before you’d started laughing. “Okay, sure laugh at me but I’m being serious. Think about it this way; in a few weeks time we’ll be legally bound to each other and all the other bullshit that entails for the rest of our lives. You’ll probably, no definitely, be the mother of my kids.”
His words were making you feel things you wish you didn’t. As irritated as you were with this entire scheme your two families created you knew there was nothing you could ever do to escape it. Would leaning into it really be so bad? What’s the worst that could happen? Before you could interject with one of the million and one reasons you could think of to not forge a real relationship Lando spoke again.
“You don’t have to decide now, whatever decision you make I’ll respect it.” You swallowed the lump that had grown heavy in your throat. “Oh and what you said earlier? I don’t want some girl on the side or whatever you want to call it. I’m actually willing to give us a try and I hope you’ll do the same.”
You gaped at him, eyes wide. No dick on the side, no way. The words refused to leave your mouth but you nodded, hoping to bring the conversation to a close.
“I have eyes everywhere, but I’m sure you already know that. If I were you I’d tie up any loose ends before the wedding.” It took a moment for you to realize what he was indicating. But how could you ever forget who Lando Norris truly was. If you were to ever go behind his back he would know, and from the looks of it things wouldn’t end to well for you or your paramour.
“Okay fine, you win.”
A shit-eating grin spread across his perfectly structured face. “I win,” he said more to himself, clearly enjoying the taste of the words in his mouth. “I do have one more condition before we really do this.”
Your eyes didn’t deviate from his as you waited for him to get on with it. “I want a kiss.”
“Alright great talk but no. Have a great night!” You were practically sprinting to get inside but Lando was quick on his feet catching you almost instantly. “You know you really need to stop running away all the time. That’s something we’ll need to work on.” The proximity between the two of you was closer than ever. If it weren’t for his tight grip you would have squirmed under Lando’s heavy gaze.
He reached out to grab you chin making sure your eyes were trained on him. “Better now than the first one be in front of everyone we know. Let’s consider this practice for D-day.”
Practice. Sure.
“Okay,” you whispered before your better judgement could stop you. Lando was confident taking the lead as his lips came close to yours. Nothing could have prepared you for the feel of his plush lips against your. As the kiss dragged on you slowly felt the tension you’d harbored before leaving your body. Why did he have to be such a good kisser.
It felt like forever before the two of you separated, an awkward pause hanging in the air as you tried to separate your hate for your pre-planned life from the growing lust you were feeling for your future husband. Lando removed his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. He pulled you close to him as he guided you the short trek from the rose garden to your home.
If you looked even half as disoriented as you felt it was probably best to stave off the embarrassment and head straight upstairs. You reluctantly turned around at the sound of your fiancé calling your name. You cast your gaze down to the end of the spiral stairwell where he stood. “I’ll see you next Saturday.”
There were question marks swarming your head as you tried to figure out what he was talking about. Tonight was intense enough, what else would he need to see you for?
Lando swiped his hand against his facial hair barely trying to hide the pleasure he felt by catching you off guard. He tilted his head to the side, dimples more prominent than ever.
“Saturday night. Our engagement party.”
Oh. Ohhhh.
“Right. Okay, yeah.” You mentally kicked yourself for forgetting the second most important date on your calendar for the foreseeable future.
“I think a week should give you enough time to think about our little chat.” You were more likely to be ruminating over that kiss.
At this point you were drained. Words were too much so you just flashed him a thumbs up and trusted one of the maids to show him out. “Goodbye Lando,” you called over your shoulder ready to hide away in your room for the rest of eternity.
“Goodnight wifey.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When you finally reached your room you found yourself drawn to the window. You opened it up, not so subtly peaking at your fiancé’s black McLaren as it exited the gates. The sound of your phone vibrating on your bed pulled your attention from the sleek car growing distant from your home. You plopped down on your bed, body still wrapped in the warm jacket Lando covered you with. Looking at the device you noted several missed messages and calls. Some from your girl friends, and even more from your friends friends. You pulled a throw pillow close to you as you got comfortable scanning through your messages.
Charles
Still on for tomorrow?
Lewis
Missed FaceTime
Max
2 Missed calls. 1 Voicemail.
Time to tie up those loose ends…
#lando norris#lando x reader#lando norris x you#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fic#formula 1#f1 x you#woc!reader#f1 x black!reader#lando norris x black!reader
340 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Child
She was here…
“Alastor! She’s here! In heaven!!!”
“Who Birdy?”
“Eudora!”
Huh?
“Oh, I HAVE to go meet her! I’ll get approval for her to come down and visit you too!”
His daughter was here…
“Everything’s so bright up here…”
Eudora was in awe of the sights of heaven. Her jaw dropped for a moment while she looked around.
Emily giggled, “Yeah! It’s so great!!”
“Emily, there was someone I hoped you could help me find. Her name was-”
“Eudora?”
The woman could have been her twin. Sure, there were little differences here and there, but overall, the two were one and the same. Despite having never met her, Eudora could never forget the face of the woman in the painting in her family home—the woman who gave her life for her own. The woman was her mother, without a doubt.
“Mama?”
Tears welled in the singer’s eyes,
“Oh, my baby!!!”
The women rush forward in a crushing embrace. Y/n’s body shook from the sheer emotion of being able to hold her child for the first time. She finally got to hold her baby.
“Hi mama.”
“Hi baby.”
A certain antlered man was a lot more quiet than usual.
Normally, Alastor would delight in the chaos that the hotel provided. Even Husk started to get anxious as that man hadn’t threatened him in a good three days.
“Soooooo, anyone know what’s wrong with smiles over there?”
“Now that you mention it, he hasn’t been meddling lately.”
“I’m taken it as a blessing.”
“Come on guys we should go see what’s wrong!”
“Uh Char, I don’t think that’s a good idea…”
“Why not?”
“Cause smiles ‘ll rip ya head off?”
“You don’t know that…”
…
“Okay maybe! But-”
The front door is opened and a golden glow floods into the space.
“Hi everyone I’m back!!”
“Y/n! I’m so glad your here! What’s wrong with Alastor?”
“What ever do you mean?”
“Well he’s been mopey for days!”
“Mopey? My husband? Really?”
“Uh Mama?”
Everyone freezes.
In the doorway is another angel.
She is the spitting image of their angel friend.
“Ah right! Everyone this is mine and Alastor’s daughter Eudora!”
Alastor has a what?
“The deer procreated?”
“The what?”
“Birdy is that you?”
“Yes my darling! Come here!”
Alastor’s heart stopped.
She was so beautiful.
“Hi Pop…”
“My little doe…”
The facade falls.
The members of the hazbin hotel watch as the small family is reunited.
The Child Is Home…
A/n: I hope you all enjoyed the family reuniting!!
Taglist: @crazed-flower, @nanamunath, @preferably-fictional, @eccedentesiast-sapphic, @leximus98, @cupidsgift, @mag-chan, @stygianoir, @thereeallink, @yelloeukulele, @mariaclarade-la-cruz1, blurpleuni-squid, @galaxywing-has-adhd, @just-here-reading, @deez-nuts0, @strawberry-gothic, @purplerose291,@1-800-mocha, @trashbin-nie, @queenmizuki, @nkirukaj @bennythebitch @otherthoughtsofbu, @fantasycantasy, @hunnybee11626, @notally-tormal, @valerie-36, @lovingyeet, @holographicage, @har-har-harvey, @i-love-jafar, @cupidsgift, @meow-meowo, @theblueslytherin, @deadt3tinside, @lyralibra, @the-unhinged-raccoon, @avitute, @alastorswifeee, @stygianoir, @sideshow-b0b, @deadlymouse123, @mysingularitybts, @emotionalfangirl2002, @t0xic1vi, @goodlittlepup, @starsatmyhome, @wendds, @reader3, @redfoxgotlost, @hurthermore, @frostychurro, @isa-dragon
#hazbin hotel#x reader#x reader fic#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor x reader#hazbin alastor#alastor altruist#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor the radio demon#alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor x you#alastor x angel!reader#alastor x wife reader#alastor x y/n
161 notes
·
View notes
Note
AITA for posting pics of myself with scars visible?
Tw for self harm
This happened years ago when all of us were in the 16-17 age range. We’re now 19-20
I have scars all over my body. Most were years old by that time, but some were still in the pink stage. Unless I want them showing, I need to wear long sleeves and long pants. This is what I usually do because I hate people asking questions or staring or the idea of someone thinking differently of me. However being so covered up is not practical in the summer months, especially as it gets closer to 90° temps. So, when I’m out with friends I sometimes go out with short sleeves or shorts. My friends are fantastic about this and don’t make me feel weird for how my skin looks.
We took a group pic and it was super cute so I posted it. The only ppl who follow me are my friends and they all know that I have scars. I’m trying to accept my body and everything and it’s a little step in that direction so I posted as is. No edits or anything. Usually I would cover with emojis but I feel like that draws attention to it rather than hides it. Especially when the emojis strategically cover both arms or both legs lol. Editing them out feels weird too. Like I would kill to have no scars but having them edited out of pics just feels disingenuous to myself?? Idk But anyways I thought it was fine to post, like it’s not the focal point of the pic. Its just three girls in front of a building and one happens to have scars.
Alice (fake name) messaged me about the pic warning me that my scars are showing. I thought she was trying to be nice. Warning me in case I wasn’t aware and wanted them covered. I said “I know haha but thanks for looking out for me” and she said something like with “I know you’re trying to be proud of your scars but not everyone is okay with seeing that ” that hurt, but I know she didn’t intend that so I explained to her that I didn’t know anyone in our group would feel that way, and I posted that bc I’m trying to feel normal. Not proud, just like a normal person posting a cute pic with friends. She basically told me it’s one thing to wear clothes that show them but another thing to post online. like what if someone sees it and takes up self harm or what if I trigger someone or what if employers see and other stuff, I can’t remember it all. She ended saying I should’ve put a TW in the first slide at least. I feel like that draws even MORE attention to my scars than the emojis and makes me very uncomfortable.
I haven’t posted pics with my scars exposed since but I wanted to know was I really TA for posting that pic? WIBTA if I posted one without the TW on the first slide? I’m just sick of cropping and covering it makes me feel so weird to the point I rarely post.
181 notes
·
View notes
Text
13. hello yellow
frankie morales x f!reader | chapter thirteen of do me yourself
summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.
wordcount: 4.3k (she became a biggie)
chapter warnings: reference to anxious!reader. frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint-related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. no use of y/n.
an: this is the one you've been waiting for... .
prev chapter | series masterlist
key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics
It grows on your tongue on a cooler morning—the birds having only just begun chirping, the sun really only just rising. But he's there, truck parked outside as he brings you coffee, for no other reason than just because.
It's almost hard not to say the three words.
They thicken in your throat when you surprise him at work, having already spoken to Harry, asking if you can steal him for an extra half an hour. His face brightens, practically illuminating when he sees you at the register. It continues to do so when you take him back to the place where the two of you had lunch, his face beaming.
You’re not sure how the words don’t escape there and then.
There are a bunch of moments saying them could have been right. It would be so easy to let them slip out, but then he'll say something that makes you laugh, or his phone will go off and the conversation shifts, and you wait a little longer.
But you don’t just want right, you want perfect.
Just like him.
You know how we love Harold?
Yes?
He might have recommended me to a friend of his for some paintwork.
This sounds like a good thing, yet it feels very bad for me.
The only date the man can do is the day I said we’d go to the beach.
If this isn’t you asking me to come and help you be your a-paint-tice I’m going to be really let down.
You want to come paint a man’s house with me?
I want to do anything with you, Butterscotch.
It vibrates from two rooms away—buzzing, buzzing, buzzing.
Your feet rush for you, socks almost making you a health hazard as you round the corner from your bedroom to the hallway. A laugh trying to escape from giddiness as your palms press into your off-white walls, before using it for leverage to continue.
Moving, almost running, not looking where you’re going, only realising at the last second when your foot collides with it.
Pain.
It pulses and makes tears spring to your eyes instantly. The hurt is more than radiating, it erodes, grows and pounds.
Fucking toolbox.
Hand grasping it as you half-hobble to the little side table where your phone almost topples off.
Butterscotch <3
A caller ID that usually brings an immediate smile to your face, and still, even as you clutch your foot in your hand and drag your finger across the screen, it somehow still does.
“Hey, I’m almost there—did you want lunch in or out?”
Stuffing a wince down your throat, you blink back fresh tears as your thumb presses down on a particular spot. “I need to show you something but maybe out?”
“You okay?” No, you want to hiss—wanting to add extra O’s and everything. “You sound off?”
Swallowing bitterness, you try to smile as you lower your foot—putting some weight on it as you suddenly become warm, and uncomfortable.
“Rainy?”
“Butterscotch, I bet you’re one street—you’re literally pulling up.”
You swear you hear him grin. Almost being able to tell even from the way he puts his vehicle in park that his smile is growing into his cheeks and cascading over his eyes. It makes your own appear, somehow rising to the surface and kicking its feet furiously to appear.
By the time you’d end the call, quickly check your foot inside your sock and put it back in place, your eyes catch his coming through your front door. Letting in amber streams of sunlight that paint across the hardwood in warm, honeyed hues. Bringing in warmth, a calmness, the pain suddenly non-existent when you see him slide out the key from the keyhole—the one you’d told him to keep, the one you’d give him, told him to use.
The sight pulls at something inside of you, making it easier to smile, to beam as he closes it behind him and walks himself up to you—mouth pressing to yours. The taste of coffee and mint flooding your mouth, your fingers full of his curls as his hand presses to your lower spine—bodies flush, his keys clanging in the air.
“You know I think you’re beautiful,” he whispers, teeth teasing your bottom lip before releasing it with a pop. “But, baby, what are you wearing?”
His hand slides down the plastic, water-proof full-body overalls you have on. It rustles, making your skin even warmer when he takes another long look at you, and laughs.
Not a giggle.
Not a quiet, hidden and disguised laugh. A full-on roar of laughter.
“I got it for next week,” you exclaim, heat rising up your neck. “You told me I’d need to wear something that would cover me—wanted to make sure it was okay.”
“Baby, I meant not your romper—'cause you’ll get paint on your legs. I didn't mean a… hazmat suit?”
Folding your arms, you take a step back, face scrunching in a wince you’re not sure he notices as you roll your eyes before turning on your heels to change. “I’m new to this.”
“I know, I know,” he says, trying to stifle his laugh, hand reaching out. “Baby, wait, I’m sorry. Okay? You just don’t need—fuck, Rainy. I can see your ass through this.”
“No, you cannot.”
“I fucking can.”
Letting him pull you into his arms, you shake your head, stupidly unable to stop yourself from grinning, before his lips brush over yours. Your nails digging into the t-shirt on his waist, mouth parting as he eases you back, a grimace hidden against his tongue as his knee nudges between your plastic-covered thighs.
“Frankie,” you whisper, it leaving your tongue like a whine.
He only hums in response, it vibrating against you, fingers tightening in his curls as his knee rises that bit more, friction so readily there, easily able to rock your hips if you so want to. Until it rustles, furrows, a noise so unsexy you feel him slowly grin against your mouth.
“Can’t believe you just wore underwear under this,” he teases, dropping his knee.
Your breath finds your lungs with more ease as you roll your lower lip between your teeth, admiring him, unable to stop ogling the man who is very much all yours after the position he just had you in.
“I should change before we go out for lunch,” you mumble. “Before I flash everyone.”
Moving away from him before he can stop you, you let out a groan as your bad foot flattens, unable to hide the misstep. Hearing him call your name, you're quick to wave him off. Digging your nails into your palm as you take (what feels like a thousand) steps until you’re unzipping the ridiculous plastic, all-in-one, and begin yanking drawers and doors open until you’re standing in something more appropriate for lunch.
Half-closing your bedroom door behind you, you don’t need to call for him, you know where he’ll be. Finding him exactly where you expected, tape measure in hand—right in front of one of the office windows.
“Thought you could do that in your head.”
Snorting, shooting you a look over his shoulder, he grins. “Wanna make sure I’m exact.”
“For me?”
“For you.”
Leaning against the frame, not obviously showing you’re taking the weight from your now pulsing foot, you try to smile. Listening as he begins telling you about getting something for your windows, instead of thinking how you should ice it, get him to wrap it, maybe ask him—politely—if he’d put his fucking toolbox away between visits before you actually break something.
Somehow, you hear enough to follow what he’s saying, about how blinds would help, that they’d give you more daylight while also shielding you if you wish to work in the dark—they’d be more flexible, modern. He could help you fit them.
And it dawns on you, that while you've had it in your head about curtains, this is a thing you should have thought of yourself.
A thing which feels so obvious now he’s said it that it irks you that you haven’t. Because blinds would be better. Digging a hole in you, making you feel silly, stupid, and foolish—
The realisation makes you pinch your forearm and take a deep breath. You re-centre yourself, thinking about the one image that inspired all of this, imagining it with blinds instead of what had remained fixed in your head, hung and stuck.
The problem with desiring something inspirational is that it isn’t always tailored to the person who desires it. To you, who will be using the room. Yet, Frankie has thought of you—like the considerate, beautiful man that he is.
“From your face, you don’t want blinds?” he asks.
Your mouth opens, before closing. Putting some weight down as your eye narrows in pain—it floods through you as you try not to frown. “It’s not that—I just thought curtains. Thought I preferred the way curtains look, is all.”
Frankie shrugs, staring out of the window, before glancing back. “Curtains it is then.”
“But, blinds do make sense.”
And you can see it, the way he chews his tongue—the way he swallows words he wishes to say. It flares something within. Rolling his head on his shoulders, and scratching the back of his head, he smiles.
“But you want curtains.”
“I did.”
“Then have curtains.”
He’s being nice—that’s what you remind yourself. He’s being kind and thoughtful. He’s taking what you’re saying and giving you exactly that.
Yet it feels… bad.
It makes you all of a sudden not want it—anger bubbling, trying to grow wider in your stomach. Instead, wanting him to tell you that you should have blinds, for all the reasons he’s listed, because it makes sense. They’re practical, and easy; it’ll block the sun out if it’s a bright day. They’ll even look modern; following the theme of the room.
And the fact he isn’t reminding you of that makes you mad. So much you feel it clawing up your throat, all ash and brimstone; flames and bonfire.
But you’re not mad at him.
You’re mad at yourself for not looking.
You’re not mad at him, just his toolbox.
You’re not mad at him. You’re mad—
It repeating. Swirling. Shifting around the imaginary plug hole in your head as you wait for it to fall through and douse whatever it is that is brewing inside of you.
“I didn’t think of it like you did, so let’s have blinds.”
“It’s okay, it’s really—”
“But, they make sense, Frankie. You just said so.”
Jaw tightening, he hides his annoyance with a smile. “But, baby, you don’t want blinds, so let me just measure for—”
Standing straight, unable to hide the miniature sob from pain, you follow it with: “Stop being nice to me.”
He blinks. Both at your tone and the words that snap through the air as your palm pushes against your forehead, hoping to quiet it, the simmering anger that bubbles and thickens like soup.
“Rainy—”
“You don’t… I’m not broken, Frankie. Sometimes we can just… disagree. You can tell me I’m wrong.”
“I know that.”
He says it so quickly, all with a colder edge to his words. Ice threatening to wrap around them, freeze, as they go to land, pellet. Bruise against you.
Tilting your head, you stare at him—knowing you should stop. Remove your finger from the metaphorical scab. “Do you? Because ever since the other month you’ve been… extra nice.”
“And that’s a problem?”
“It is when I’m furious with you,” you snap, it’s out now, you think.
Chest tight, things unfurling and uncoiling, flames ripping through you as though all the emergency doors have flung open and allowed it to breathe through every part of you.
“When I’m mad that I tripped over your toolbox again because you didn’t put it away. Because you likely did something nice for me and forgot. But now I’ve really hurt my foot—”
“—Baby, why didn’t you—”
But you ignore him. Not even waving him off, just continuing, “—and that I can’t decide if I want curtains or blinds and yet you make a very good argument for blinds that I hadn’t considered and you always do that—have amazing ideas, great insight, plus, you seemingly know me better than I know me, which is so lovely, but I'm mad at myself for not thinking of it. But, you, you didn't do that, because you understand me.”
“Is this a bad thing?”
No, you think as your mouth jams shut. Staring. Blinking. Because of course, it isn’t. It’s just that it’s never been something you’ve had, never experienced, never thought could possibly be given to you.
A thing that you both love, so much, but also feel is going to be ripped from you at any moment. Better not to have it, than lose it. No skill to prepare for this level of care, so used to having to make decisions and choices and have no one offer to help.
But he’s not going.
He’s standing, hands at his sides, line between his brows. Confusion trying to crawl over him and lather his features, but he seems to be fighting it, stopping it. His eyes somehow remain soft even as your mouth hands open, more words set to spit and fire—
“I need. I need a moment.”
And you don’t wait for the okay or the sight of his face falling.
Just moving, hurrying. Feet trying to carry you through to the kitchen as your palms use the wall as a crutch to do so, finding a counter to rest on, to lean on, to breathe against as thick, uncontrollable tears begin to paint your cheeks. Whether from the pain or the fact you’d snapped. Unable to hold them back from rumbling out when your forehead presses against cool wood as you take breaths in and out, in and out.
Doing so until the pain dries on your cheeks and you’re merely resting, taking the moment you said you needed before you hear him clear his throat. Before he asks if he can come closer and if he can look at your foot, two things you quickly nod for—wanting to take it back, apologise, even explain. Instead, you let him aid you up onto the counter, slide the sock from your foot assess it and turn it, finger brushing over your skin as light as a feather as he asks does it hurt here, or what about here?
It makes your heart flutter.
Makes it even harder not to blurt three words at him, when really he deserves a chorus of them for what in the hell just happened. So, you lead with:
“I’ve decided that I don’t like fighting with you.”
Snorting, he picks up the sock from the floor, easing it slowly back over your toes. “It’s not my favourite thing we do together either.”
Smirking, you stare down at him. Watching him. “I don’t want you to think I’m fragile. That’s all.
“That you can’t challenge me just because of what happened the other month. Because it’ll happen again. But I can still make choices, you can still tell me I’m wrong—sometimes, I need you to tell me I’m wrong, because if you agree with me all the time, you won’t push me to be better. I’ll just stay stagnant, and choose curtains when I really think I’ll regret it and want blinds.”
Standing, he places his hands on either side of your thighs on the counter, letting out a heavy exhale as he looks at you, as he stares from eye to eye, before whispering your name. The one which sounds so kind in his mouth, that sounds like it matters—that it holds importance and weight, even if you prefer Rainy.
“I don’t think you’re fragile,” he whispers as you slide your hand over his, watching his eyes soften, heal. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like I did.”
Half-smiling, you nod. Eyes searching his, waiting to see if the lie appears when he blinks, whether it spreads out like paint touching water and if it makes his truthful eyes murky. But it never comes. Instead, his hand cups your cheek, in a way that centres you and makes you only want to look at him.
Exhaling, he smiles. “I just don't want to make you choose something you don't want. That's all, baby.”
Eyeing him chewing words, weighing up whether it’s worth it to speak them or let them slide back into the crevice they slithered from. Because it’s painful, maybe far too much truth for him, can see it in the way it makes lines appear across his face, as though it’s fracturing him to remember.
“I wasn’t really mad at you.”
Slowly, a grin breaks out. “Yes, you was.”
“Okay, a little bit, but it wasn’t your fault. So, I’m sorry. But I am mad at your toolbox, it really hurt.”
“I’ll be sure to tell it.”
Narrowing your eyes, you slowly part your legs, tugging on him to move between them, wrapping them around his waist as he shyly smiles. “Been thinking.”
“About how you now want curtains again?”
Pinching him, hearing him hiss, you smirk. “Too soon, Morales. No. I’ve been thinking that the cupboard closest to the office door.” He hums in response, it vibrating against your collarbone as he kisses it. “Think that’s where your toolbox should live.”
You feel him grin against your skin, blow warm air in an exhale against it. “You making room for my tools now.”
Lifting his chin, nose bumping against the tip of his, you mirror his smile. “I want to make room for all of you, Frankie.”
“Yeah?”
Pressing a peck to his lips, you wipe your thumb over it. “Yeah.”
Babe, what is the attire for a kid's soccer match?
Comfort. It’s a lot of standing at the sidelines and hopeful cheering.
So knee-high socks and tight shorts are a no?
Fuck. That’s a fucking image.
Help me, because what I’ve Googled isn’t helping me.
I have a spare shirt you can wear.
Does it have Morales on the back?
It actually does.
Frankie, did you make adult versions of your son’s soccer team kit?
Does it make me lame if I say yes?
No, it makes me want to ask you if you can grab me fifteen minutes earlier so my mouth can show you how not-lame that is.
You'll be pleased to know I've sent the email and I am no longer working with 'prickly-puta', as you so lovingly called him.
I'm really proud of you. You okay?
I'd be better if I could celebrate with you, but I can wait.
How would you want to celebrate?
You sure you want to know?
Always, baby.
Well, I was thinking about showing you my power tools.
Maybe even using them? Letting you see what I do with them. It's very different from what you do with yours.
You there, I can see the typing bubble keep popping up.
Give me ten and I can video chat.
Oh no, you don't get an advanced preview.
Might let you listen though.
Fuck me.
That's what I'd be saying if you were here right now.
You don't mind that painting ruined the beach because the rain is unrelenting.
The grey of the day filters through the bare windows, spreading itself as far as it can as Frankie prepares the second room of the three the two of you were set to do.
You don’t mind the sound of rain; you never have. You find it peaceful how it cascades down from the drains and runs in marathons down the glass. Right now, the sound trickles in through the open window, while the room is suffused with the scent of fresh paint from the kitchen, mingling with the aroma of the third pot of coffee Frankie’s been brewing.
Even if he doesn't admit it, you swear he's only making as many so he can take a moment to kiss you. To run his hands over your waist and slide them over your romper-covered ass—
“Have I told you how good your ass looks in this?”
Sipping your coffee, tasting each note of it, you reply, “Twice, actually.”
“Not enough then.”
Between acting like teenagers in a stranger’s home (including him leaving a large handprint firmly on your denim-covered ass), the paint goes on in thick strokes. You cut in, trying to match the rhythm of the song playing out on the radio—a game only you are playing to distract yourself—because the sight of Frankie using the roller is ruining you.
Unable to stop staring at the way his arms flex with each motion; how his shirt stretches out across his back to the point you're not sure how the threads haven't ripped.
“Want to see the colour for this room?”
It’s a serene shade of yellow, reminiscent of a summer’s day. It'll brighten the room, glide nicely over the old, smothering secrets and old stories, offering something new. Fitting, you think from the drive over when Frankie told you the situation.
“It's perfect.”
“Isn't it?”
Arm around his waist, fingers stroking up and down his side. “Did you pick it, Morales?”
Shyness breaks out then, smile lopsided, eyes averting before whispering, “Maybe.”
You made a note to tell him later what an eye for colour he has.
Dipping the tip of the brush in the paint tray, you swipe it against the corner where two walls meet, finding his eyes on you again.
“Stop marvelling at my paintwork and focus on your own, Morales.”
“S’not your paint skills I’m staring at.”
Smirking, you look over your shoulder at him, nose scrunching. “Who knew watching me paint was your kink.”
You like the sound of his laugh mingling with the yellow on the walls. It makes you smile wider, a thing you find yourself doing each time you refill your paint tray as torture him with your terrible singing.
The only other noise is the rain, the clink of a paint can and the rustle of plastic drop cloths as the transformation happens before your very eyes. It’s not even dried, and it already looks far better than the cigarette-stained walls and palm-covered handprints you hadn’t wanted to guess why they were there, yet had done all the same.
“Maybe he’s measuring how tall he is with his hands.”
Frankie snorts. “What if he wipes his dirty hands on the wall? Finishes his food, wipes. Gets something on his finger, wipes. Has a sticky hand—well.”
You’re about to tell him not to finish that thought, when the radio plays the beginning notes of something that steals your attention.
It hooks in the corner of your lips and drags it up your cheeks as the familiar melody of an old favourite drifts from the speakers, wrapping the space in a cosy embrace—both taking you back and rooting you here in a new memory.
You try not to, but you can’t help the movement in your hips. The way you begin whispering—hushed voice mingling with the music, filling the room with a gentle, attempted harmony as your pitch gets higher, and higher.
Then, you're swaying to the rhythm, lost in it, catching a glimpse of Frankie out of the corner of your eye as he leans against the doorway, arms folded across his chest, a soft smile tugging at his lips.
There's something in his eyes, you can see it. A tender look, one that makes your heart skip a beat.
But you close your eyes, and let the music carry you away, your voice rising and falling with the lyrics as they spill from your lips effortlessly. Opening your eyes at the bridge, finding him still watching, in awe, gaze unwavering.
And there's a softness there in his expression that you've never seen before, a quiet intensity that takes your breath away. It's as if the world has faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in this sunshine-filled room, back-lit by a horrid stormy day.
Yet, it feels perfect.
More so as you begin to sing to him, unable to stop staring as he takes a step closer, eyes never leaving yours. His fingers slide under yours, taking the tray and brush from your hands, placing it aside as his smile widens, eyes crinkling at the corners, looking at you as if you're the most precious thing in the world.
“What?”
He reaches out, gently brushing his knuckles on your cheek, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “I love you,” he murmurs, his voice soft and steady.
For a moment, the room seems to stand still.
A flicker of something sparks inside you. Those same words have been so close to your tongue for days now that you almost need to pinch yourself to see if you've really heard them.
But, you know you heard it. The declaration hanging in the air, weighty and profound, making the actual music fade into the background, you swear time itself pauses, allowing the enormity of his words to sink in.
Frankie slides his arm around your waist, still smiling, tugging you closer—a thing your body gives with all but ease. And he repeats it. Those three words.
This time, your heart skips a beat. Emotions swirl within you like a tempestuous sea. One that calms under the stroke of his thumb as your fingers wrapping around his wrist, drawing a soft shape there.
“I love you too, Morales.”
“Yeah?”
Nodding, a grin breaking out like the sun on the walls. “I’ve been in love with you for a while.”
Then you hear it, the velvety, smooth sound of him saying good, as he kisses you to the last notes and chorus of an old, but new favourite song.
NEXT CHAPTER ->
#frankie morales x reader#francisco morales x reader#frankie morales x f!reader#frankie morales x you#pedro pascal character fanfiction#triple frontier x reader#francisco morales fanfiction#frankie morales#triple frontier fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#francisco catfish morales x reader#catfish morales x reader#pedrostories#jo: dmy#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal
188 notes
·
View notes
Text
nonsense — DREW STARKEY
authors note i've wanted to write a singer!reader drew fic for the longest time. i've read some singer!reader fics lately and it gave me some inspiration to write my own. i hope you guys enjoy reading. this was also requested by an anon not long ago, so if you’re reading this enjoy 🩵. the song choice is nonsense and just think to when sabrina is performing this song at coachella.
summary performing at coachella for the first time with friends and your lovely boyfriend supporting you in the crowd.
warnings none!
Coachella.
This is your first Coachella where you are performing. You will be playing live in front of millions of people. This is the last weekend for the festival.
Tens of thousands of people travel from all over the world to attend Coachella. The festival features sculptures, art installations, and other open events in addition to music.
When your manager called you about being invited to perform you couldn't believe your ears. Now, here you are about to step on stage.
Standing in a circle backstage with your crew, discussing everything you've prepared for over the last few days and having fun out there. This is what you always do before a show.
Second weekend of the festival.
Walking on stage seems like a surreal experience for you. Looking around, you can sense the intensity of the enormous crowd in front of you.
The weather was lovely, with the sun still shining and the breeze brushing over your skin.
"Hello Coachella, my name is Y/F/N, what's yours?" You smile into the microphone while waving away.
You began by introducing the crowd to yourself, your backup dancers, your music, if everyone is having a great time, etc.
Interacting with your fans is one of your favorite parts of singing on stage. You value your interactions with them since you like conversing. When you read comments on your shows, they usually mention how fascinating you are.
After singing a few songs from the set list, you took a little breather and spoke to the crowd saying a joke, making them laugh.
You begin the next song by sipping from an old-fashioned soda bottle while seated in a chair. As you take a seat, you glimpse your boyfriend, Drew, along with a couple of your friends and security.
You two make eye contact. Butterflies fill your stomach. You offer him a small wave, and he smiles and turns around, presumably blushing.
Fans up close captured the brief interaction with their phones out. We'll see it on social media later today.
Drew and you began dating in the midst of season three of Outer Banks. The first outing was Pougelandia, and fans began to speculate about your relationship because it came out of nowhere.
To be honest, Madelyn Cline and you were close friends before she began filming season one of Outer Banks. She’s the one who introduced you to Drew.
"The last song I'll be playing for you guys is nonsense, so if you know the lyrics, sing along," you cheer, lifting your free hand in the air, moving it around with excitement.
"Is it possible we get my amazing dancers out here," you turn around, pretending you have no idea where they went, "guys come out here, we could perform some sort of choreography, you know" as you gaze at your dance crew coming out the set.
Nonsense is about Drew.
It is one of your favorite songs that you have written. When you first released it, many were unsure who it was about until photos of Drew and you emerged.
Think I only want one number in phone
I might change your contact to "don't leave me alone"
You said you like my eyes and you like to make 'em role
Treat me like a queen, now you got me feelin' thrown, oh
You dance with your dancing crew, who are behind you and moving in sync. The choreography is muscle memory for you guys because you've been performing this song for a few years now.
But I can't help myself when you get close to me
Baby, my tongue goes numb, sounds like "bleh bleh bleh"
I don't want no one else (no no) baby, I'm into deep
Here's a little song I wrote (a song I wrote) its about you and me
When you sing the last line of the pre-chorus, you gesture to Drew in the audience, who moves his head side to side while listening to you sing and blushes when you point to him. You giggle into the microphone.
Fans started cheering louder as they watched you motioning to your lover in the audience.
You continue to move around stage all throughout the song.
You go around the center of the stage as your backup dancers finish their final few dances. One of your backup dancers grabs a chair for you to sit in.
At the end of nonsense you always come up with rhymes. Started doing this after the first performance and can't stop doing it.
Told him he makes me weak to my knees
Everything about him just so dreamy
By the way he's name Drew Starkey
When you say your boyfriend's name, the crowd cheers. You saw his response as he mouthed the words "I love you," dropped his jaw, and put his hands over his heart.
"Coachella, you've been amazing to me these past two weekends. Thank you so much. Can we please give a huge around of applause for our amazing dancers, come on out guys!" Excitement in your voice when you call your dance crew out on stage.
Once you guys made it off stage, you guys began cheering with a bunch of energy. Everyone gave each other hugs.
"Water is calling my name right now" you groan with urgency.
Approaching your manager, holding a cold water bottle for you- thanking her a few times as you open the bottle. You were about jugging down the water when you heard Drew's voice approaching.
"Hi baby," you squeal, dragging the y in baby, and rush into Drew's arms, wrapping your arms around his neck. Being in his arms sends relief in your body.
He smells so good.
He chuckles, "You did so well out there, so proud of you," and delicately places you on your feet.
"Thank you," blushing to the point where your cheeks were red. "Did you enjoy the outro of nonsense?" You inquire with curiosity, despite the fact that you already know his response.
He softly grins that makes your heart flutter, "Mhm yeah I did" kissing the top of your head, wrapping his right arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him.
"Why don't we get something to eat?" "How's that sound, baby?" Drew asks, his arm still around you.
Your ears and eyes light up from his request, “obviously yes.”
Before leaving you heard the voices of friends turning the corner. The rest of your friends, as well as Drew's cast members who are also your friends, returned to stage, thrilled to see you.
It was so good to see them.
Drew and you returned to the van to change, drove to the Airbnb to relax before returning to watch other artists perform after the sun had set with your friends.
my taglist!
✰ if you would like to be added to my taglist and be notified whenever i post please let me know in the comments or in my ask box. if there's a line across your name that means i couldn't find your account.
@diqldrunks @chenslucy @winterrrnight @rosezza @solanathascientst @runningfrom2am
#drew starkey#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey blurb#drew starkey imagines#drew starkey fanfic#drew starkey x oc#drew starkey x y/n#drew starkey x you#drew starkey x female reader#drew starkey x singer!reader#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron imagines#obx rafe cameron#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x you#coachella#drew starkey/rafe cameron 🍒
117 notes
·
View notes
Text
I understand that people are going to cope how they are going to cope, and trying to find meaning in the handling of Tech in season three is part of that, but it’s also okay to criticize the show.
I like a good character death. Tech’s departure was not that. My issue is not that he’s presumed dead, my issue is that it and the handling of it is nonsense. So (I once again get very negative about my favorite show under the cut):
1. When you kill off a main character, you really have to kill them off. How you do so can vary from story to story, but you really have to do four things:
One, you need a good reason to kill them off in the first place. (“Stakes” is not a good reason. A secondary character, sure, but not a main one. More on that in a minute.)
Two, you need to make it perfectly clear that the character is, in fact, dead.
Three, you need to show the other characters processing and accepting that death. This is important because doing so will allow the audience to do the same and let the character go. This is especially important if you’re writing for a young audience.
Four, you need to make it explicitly clear that the character cannot come back. This is especially true in sci fi or fantasy. Especially if you’re the Character Resurrection franchise.
And guess what the show didn’t do?
Any of that. Any of it. What it did instead was ambiguously remove Tech from the story (uniquely in a show that loves making us watch characters die on screen; last time we saw Tech for sure he was alive), never gave a good reason for doing so in or out of the show, never showed us any character working through the impact of his loss (even though there was ample opportunity for Omega, especially, to do so), and ripped the “could he come back?” box wide open by parading CX-2 in front of our faces. It is never, at any point, handled like an actual main character death. It’s handled as a plot point from which the narrative moves fairly quickly, and treated by all parties as an absence. By all the rules of storytelling, Tech isn’t dead. He’s just ambiguously gone. And that means the writing team did a terrible job if what they wanted to do was kill him off. We should not be debating this after the show has ended if he’s actually dead.
2. I understand why some fans are trying to find meaning in losing Tech. I am not, because that meaning is not offered by the text itself. And, if the plan was to never bring him back, it should have been.
We are not, for example, offered a lesson about how not everyone comes home from the war. In order for that to have been the case, we would have needed to see someone, probably Omega, working through that. We would have needed to see her refusing to accept that Tech is gone—like we do in Plan 99, by the way—and slowly coming to terms with the idea that her brother isn’t coming home. But we don’t get that, not even as subtext.
Something else we could have gotten that would have worked with all the little visual reminders of Tech, empty chairs, name-drops, and even the CX-2 leading? The batch being so haunted by losing Tech and not really knowing what happened to him for sure that they start seeing him everywhere. But for that to work we would have needed, again, to see that as an explicit subplot where someone, probably Omega, again, gets really invested in the signs that Tech is coming back and even starts assuming that CX-2 is him, only to realize that she’s seeing what she wants to see and having to accept that Tech isn’t coming back, but that she can still keep Tech’s memory alive by following in his footsteps. That’s something you can kind of project onto what we’re given in the epilogue, but you do have to project it, because it’s entirely absent from the rest of the show.
As is, Tech’s sacrifice isn’t given any weight. From a narrative perspective, it was an incredibly contrived set of circumstances that accomplished nothing except punting Tech off a train, and gave Tech no choice but to remove himself from the story—exit, stage down. Losing Tech doesn’t, even sub-textually, serve as anyone’s motivation. It does nothing to move the plot or anyone’s character development forward. The primary motivators of season three were Omega’s kidnapping, Crosshair’s PTSD, and Hemlock needing to get Omega back.
Tech’s absence does nothing to move anything forward and only really serves to slow the plot down and make the others struggle to do anything because he’s not there to carry the team like he did in the first two seasons—and nothing about that would have played out any differently if Tech spent the season in a coma in a bacta tank. The only part of Tech’s sacrifice that has meaning is that he loved his family enough to offer it. And that is profound, but that’s not something that would be negated by a return because the love and the offer remain. As for his presumed death? His return couldn’t have taken meaning away from that, because the show never gave it any meaning in the first place.
And no, Tech “dying” isn’t something I have to accept. Tech isn’t a real person, he’s an idea, and an idea that didn’t come to fruition. I can point out the ways the handling of his departure didn’t work all day if I want.
3. CX-Tech was not an overly online theory. I need people to understand this. It was an assumption made by most of the casual audience. My sister, who has no contact with the fandom and doesn’t like me discussing the show at all until she’s seen it, assumed he was Tech. My brother-in-law, who was a die-hard Tech-has-to-be-dead-shut-up guy for the entire hiatus and the first half of season three, was convinced he was Tech. Every kid I’ve spoken to who watched the show thought he was Tech and is deeply confused that he got speared like that. My brother, who doesn’t even watch the show but who does walk by when I’m watching it sometimes, thought he was Tech. You can’t get more casual and away from the fandom than that.
The thing is, the answer we get isn’t that he’s not Tech. It’s, “We’re not telling.” Which means that as it currently stands, a season-and-a-half of CX buildup amounted to a five minute boss fight and a non-answer. That’s…not something that works! That’s atrocious writing if that was the whole sum of their intent all along.
And you can say, well, that was a clever misdirect! Plot twist! Except, one, misdirects and twists only work if the real answer is more satisfying than the false one, otherwise it just falls flat. Two, if it was a misdirect, it’s not one the creative team is willing to own. No one will touch the Tech-CX-2 parallels with a twenty-foot pole, except the Kiners, who have incredibly meaningful explanations for every musical choice but then say shit like, “that chord just sounds good in brass” about Battle of the Snipers (…before going on to say that the four note lose motif from “Plan 99” is Tech’s leitmotif…which is also all over Battle of the Snipers…and is only there according because the batch is divided in that scene, a scene in which Crosshair’s leitmotif is entirely absent even though he’s just supposed to be fighting his own dark side represented by a guy who’s totally not Tech. Sure. I’m going to go eat drywall.) Because acknowledging that and saying that was supposed to be Tech will just make the audience angrier, and they may not even be allowed to do so, and saying that it is Tech—you can understand why they can’t do that, right? The implications are horrific. But that horrific implication is probably what at least some of the casual audience who will never interact with the fandom or a single interview is going to walk away with.
4. The thing that bothers me most about all of this is the combined toxicity of the fandom and the leading from the marketing and social media. Part of the fandom saying that there were never any signs Tech could have survived (in Star Wars, no less) is starting to feel like gaslighting; and while I don’t think there was any malice in the leading in the marketing and social media—I’m even willing to give a tiny bit of leeway for the creative team maybe knowing something we don’t yet—it was handled badly, expectations for this season should have been set early and clearly, and as of right now it all feels like an incredibly cruel prank at autistic fans expense, whatever the intent may have been or may still be.
5. And finally, here’s the thing: I’m willing to give the writers a bit of leeway on this. I’m willing to grant that some choices may have been out of their hands for unknown reasons. I’m even willing to say that maybe they’re not really done with this story yet, that The Bad Batch could just be the first chapter of a longer show that was split up for stupid business reasons, and that the finale is the way it is because they had to have an ending of sorts without actually resolving anything. I’m willing to grant a lot of grace there. In fact, I actually think there’s a very good chance we’ll still get Tech back alive in canon, and sooner than later, if only because no one (not even the voice actors) seems happy about this, most fans are coping but disappointed at best, the creative team got asked about Tech non-stop for a solid year and a half, and the writers don’t seem at all committed. We know from the rest of the show that they know how to definitively kill a guy, and, frankly, Tech in the first two seasons comes across as something of a writer favorite. They like using him!
But whatever I’m hoping or suspecting, and whatever leeway I’m willing to grant the creative team here, the final product is all we have right now. And I am going to criticize that final product for badly handling a (presumed) character death and straight up breaking the central conceit of the show in doing so.
#the bad batch#one thing I will say#is that if I knew for sure#that ‘the cavalry has arrived’ was simply a midpoint#not really a series finale in the writers’ heads but just a season finale#and that this story was going to continue but now with more focus on Rex and Echo#with Tech as the bridge between the two series#I would not be nearly as harsh about the finale as I am#it doesn’t resolve anything it simply stops#because it had to end
94 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝑺𝑷𝑨𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑶𝑵𝑮 ( 𝒎. 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒃! )
˚ ✦ . . ˚ . . ✦ ˚ . ★⋆.
the cool breeze of the boston air whipped throughout her hair softly as she gazed up at the night sky in front of her — the stars looked like freckles dancing across the canvas of someone's face, painting a wondrous scene in front of her.
sat on the side of her was her boyfriend matt, who had been admiring the beautiful brown skinned girl beside him. in his mind, the starstruck look on her face was easily more beautiful than the view of the stars splayed in front of them.
being that the two were already surrounded by family most of the time, they didn't always get a chance to have alone time with one another. this surprise date idea was initiated by matt, and she was quick to oblige as she had been incredibly happy.
"did we run out of the white cheddar cheez itz that fast?" she whispers to him, turning to see that he already had his eyes on her.
"y/n, you finished them during the car ride here," matt laughs at her softly, but his eyes go wide and he snaps his fingers at her, "but wait, i bought more snacks cause i know how you are."
she playfully shoves his arm, as he gets up and walks back over to his minivan. she puts her arms under her head and lays her head back, looking back up at the scenery with a soft smile on her features.
when he comes back over to see her, he's so mesmerized by the starstruck expression she has on her face that he doesn't even bother to announce that the snacks are back.
instead, he goes and lays down next to her, gently placing his head next to hers as his arm reaches over and pulls her waist closer to him. he traces small patterns on her stomach, creating a tingling sensation throughout her body as she leaned into his touch.
and the two stayed that way for a while, lost in the feeling of each other — the soft hum of the owls in the distance mixed with the small buzz of the city life below the hill they were on created a peaceful moment that they were sure to take in.
"which star is yours?" matt asks her, his gaze now on her as she bites her lip in contemplation.
"do you see the constellation orion right there?" she says softly. she points to the alignment of three stars which portray orion's belt.
she grabs his hand into hers and lifts his middle finger up, tracing out the pattern of orion the hunter above them — then she slowly moves his finger to the bright eye which belongs to taurus the bull. "taurus."
"your sign," he smiles, and hums in agreement, turning to smile at him.
"unfortunately though, you can't see leo very well at the moment," she explains to him, "taurus is northwest of orion, also surrounded by gemini with aries on the right side of it."
"do you know where leo is usually located?" he asks, causing her to beam as she nods furiously.
"leo is like between cancer and virgo, and its other constellation neighbors are hydra, leo minor, ursa major, and sextans which are the only ones i can remember right now."
"sextans, huh?" matt grins suggestively, to which she smacks her teeth with a playful eyeroll.
"grow up, matthew," she giggles, and gosh he loves the way his full name rolls off her tongue. "can you try and not make this sexual right now?"
"depends," matt shrugs with a grin, slowly placing himself on top of her, tucking a french braid away from her face as he presses a kiss to her nose, "how long can you go without resisting me?"
she giggles at him and presses their lips together slowly, until suddenly a small flash of light moves across the sky in hues of blue, causing her to grin into the kiss — a shooting star.
her wish was to stay in moments like these forever.
#lilly's love letter💌#mattslolita 💌#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo fanfiction#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo x reader#matt stuniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo blurb#matthew sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo fluff#matthew bernard sturniolo#matthew sturniolo x reader#drabble#blurb#the sturniolos#the sturniolo triplets#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo#sturniolo triplets imagine#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo fic
87 notes
·
View notes
Text
Prompt: someone takes reader to the airport, but only to have their car break down on the way.
Warnings: swearing, angsty? Fluffy, kissing, confessions of love, suggestive language
Enjoy!
══════════════════
The look on Matt’s face when you told the triplets you accepted the job in London, absolutely devistated you.
You knew you needed to go, you also knew that the feelings you once had for him haven’t gone away either.
The decision to break up and stay friends, was mutual, but you both know, that to this day, it was still the worst decision you both ever agreed on.
The days leading up to your flight were heartbreaking as you spent time with your few close friends and of course, the three boys you grew up with.
Each time you left, Matt went to his room before you were out the door. You spent nights out in your car talking to Nick about everything, and he agrees that you should go, it’ll be best for everyone.
One thing Nick said to you one of the nights was as follows, "The Universe sends us exactly what we are ready for at the exact time we need it in our lives.”
It stuck with you since, but you felt like you were overthinking it, at times, like when Matt didn’t go straight to his room the night before you were set to leave.
Or when you got that phone call from your friend saying she couldn’t take you to the airport, family emergency so you let it slide.
You were in a panic. Every one you called was already booked and busy.
Expect one.
You let out a sigh as you tap on Matt’s name, your heart racing as you hear the first ring.
“Hello.”
“Matt?” You ask, not even bothering to hide your nervousness that shakes within your words, “Sorry it’s.. so late..”
“Don’t be. What’s going on?” He asks, voice slightly raspy. It was clear that you had woken him up, “Um, I was just..” you pause before letting out a sigh, “Nevermind. I’m sorry for wa-“
“No.” He raises his voice slightly and sighs, “I-I mean, No. you don’t have to go, y/n. What’s going on? A-Are you in trouble?”
“No I- well. Actually, yeah.. kind of.” You give in, “I need a ride to the airport tomorrow night.”
The line is silent for a few seconds before Matt answers, “It’ll be just me if that’s okay. Chris and nick are going to a party.”
“If you’ll need to pi-“
“Y/n.” Matt cuts you off, his voice lower, almost a whisper, “Please let me do this.”
You close your eyes, taking in a quiet breath, “Okay.”
——
When you opened your front door, Matt was standing there with a, clearly forced, smile, “Hi.”
You press your lips together and give him a small smile as you wheel your two suitcases out of the door. You sling your carry on over your shoulder and by the time you look back, Matt is already walking to the car with your cases.
You were dreading this.
A lot could happen in the hour from your house to the air port.
“Which airport?” He asks as he grabs his phone to pull up the maps. You lick your lips, “Um, it’s LAX.” He nods, tapping his phone before setting it down.
The first twenty minutes of the drive was silent, nothing but the other cars passing and the music playing on the radio filled the tension filled silence.
“So did you just ask me because you didn’t have anyone else?”
His question, the way he asked it, sounded awful of you. You look over at him, “I didn’t want to have to ask you.”
“Why?” He glances over at you and you look away, “I just.. with how you acted when and ever since I told you about London...” You look over at him, he’s looking away, “Matt, the way your face sank..“ you lower your voice, “It broke my heart.”
“Being told you’re losing someone you don’t want to lose and not being able to do anything to stop it is also enough to break someone’s heart.”
You close your eyes, the burn from the tears welling in them cause you to tense up for a second but both of your attention is taken away to the car when it starts to sputter and you both jolt forward.
“What the fuck?” Matt curses as he veers off the road. He puts his four ways on and you look in the mirror and over at him, “What the hell happened?”
He shrugs, turning the car off and trying to start again but the engine just clicks and then it goes silent.
He does look at you, “Are you okay?”
You glance over at him, frowning when you see that he isn’t looking your way, “Yeah. I’m fine. I just-“ you look at the time, “I have to be at my gate in twenty five minutes.”
“Okay, okay.” Matt grabs his phone, “Can you call Nick and tell him that I’ll be late to get them?”
You nod, calling Nick while he figures out the car.
“Miss me already?” Nick asks as he answers. You roll your eyes, laughing slightly, “I mean yeah, but that’s not why I’m calling.”
“Um okay?”
“Matt’s car broke down, we’re like I don’t know..” you glance over at Matt who has his phone pressed to his ear, “Like twenty ish minutes away.”
“Y/n, your plane takes off in twenty ish minutes.” Nick mocks you, “Is Matt calling someone? I don’t-“
You hear Nick fill chris in and Matt starts speaking, “Yeah, I’m about twenty minutes away from the LAX Airport..” he hums, pulling the phone away from his ear as he tells them what street you’re on.
“Okay. Thank you. Mhm.” He hands up and tosses his phone into the cupholder. You turn your attention back to Nick, “Hold on.”
“They said they can get someone out here to look at it as soon as they can. She said it could be up to an hour.”
All you hear is Nick say, “The universe, babe. It’s on your side.” Then the three beeps.
You pull your phone away from your ear and stare down at your lap.
“What did Nick say?”
Matt’s voice snaps you out of your daze, “Oh, um. They said that.. they’ll find a way home.” You look over at him, “Do you.. I don’t know.. ever have moments, where you’re like.. wow the universe actually loves me?”
You look over at him, laughing anxiously. Matt gives you a confused look, “What are you saying?”
You turn towards him, glancing back at your bags in the back seat, “I’m saying.. maybe Nick was right.”
“About?” He raises his brows and you look back up at him, “A few nights ago, Nick told me something.” You laugh slightly, “He said something about how the universe will send us what we are ready for right when we need it most and-“
Matt leans over, cutting your words short with his lips on yours. His hands slide to your cheeks, holding your face gently as he deepens the kiss before pulling his lips away from yours, “You’re right where you’re meant to be.”
You give him a slight nod as your hand comes up to lay on his, eyes looking between his and his lips, “With you.”
He smirks, a smile forming as he grips your chin, “With me.”
══════════════════
I hope you liked this, let me know what you thought! As always, I love you! 🖤 thank you for reading!
Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!
#samandcolby-ownme#snippet#snippets#Matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#cute matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo blurb#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x y/n#matt sturniolo one shot#sturniolo triplets#nick sturniolo#Chris sturniolo#sturniolo one shots#the sturniolos
73 notes
·
View notes
Text
Change My Mind
SUMMARY: Josh and Alina are great friends most days. Other days, they want to tear each other apart. Some days, they’re in love with each other, but neither of them will admit it.
*DISCLAIMER: This is a multi-part series. I do not own any of the characters in the writing except for the OC. The book also uses the actual names of the wrestlers. Gionna is Liv Morgan, Austin, is Xavier Woods, Josh is Jey Uso, Jon is Jimmy Uso, Trinity is Naomi, Alina is just Alina. The book is not realistic and does not take place during real events, but some actual events could pop up in the story eventually. I DO NOT GIVE ANYONE PERMISSION TO REPOST OR TRANSLATE MY WRITINGS ANYWHERE.*
PAIRING: Jey Uso x Black OC
TROPE: Friends to Lovers
WARNINGS: Language
WORD COUNT: 1,827
PART TWO
PART THREE
“Say, I have a question for you,” Austin says, giving Alina a bright smile. She smiles back at him, a sign of friendliness.
“What’s up?” She asks.
“How does one manage to be as beautiful as you? I mean, you are stunning, whew!” He exclaims. Alina giggles softly at the compliment. She places her arm on the back of the couch, propping herself up on it.
“That’s really sweet to say, Austin, thank you.” She grins.
“No, thank you for blessing me with your presence. I can end the night now knowing I got to talk to you.” She rolls her eyes at his words. She wasn’t sure what he was trying to do and why he suddenly took interest in her, but who was she to be rude? They’ve talked a few times in passing, but it was never for long. “We should get you on UpUpDownDown.” He says. She immediately begins to shake her head.
“I don’t really play video games. I’ve never been good at them.” She answers honestly. To let her come on the show would be a waste of time. She also wasn’t comfortable embarrassing herself like that in front of several people. She has watched a few episodes and knew it was a fun show, but her participating? Not happening.
“I doubt you’re as bad as you say you are.” He assures her.
“I wouldn’t lie to you,” She promises. “I am terrible at games.”
Jon still had an amused grin on his face while he watched the two talk. This man is stupid, he thought. Either Austin was crazy, or he didn’t care. Shit, probably both. “That man is going to kill his ass,” Jon mutters to Trinity.
“That’s on him.” She says, not looking up from her phone. “He warned him.” Jon looks up, catching the moment Josh pauses in his tracks at seeing Austin and Alina talking.
The eldest twin taps his wife’s thigh. “Look, look, look…” He points in Josh’s direction. This was going to be good.
Josh was happily on his way with Alina’s drink until he saw Austin had done the opposite of what he told him. They were sitting close, too close for his liking, and they seemed deep in conversation. Alina would smile at him, and Austin would smile back.
Nothing he says could be worth smiling over like that, he thought. Josh glances down at the drinks in his hand. Just go over there and give her her drink. He’ll move. Don’t cause a scene. It’s nothing, he tells himself.
If jealousy could kill, Josh would be dead ten times over. He craved the attention that everyone else got from Alina. The way she smiles at them, the way she talks to them. He wanted her to do the same to him. Instead, she’s awkward and quiet at times. That was frustrating to him. She never really hints at what goes on in her head. It made him question whether or not he should even feel how he felt. Then he’d see her trying with guys and failing, and it would make him feel some way. He just wanted to make her happy.
Josh sniffles, quickly regaining composure. He resumes his stride over to the group. When he approaches, he holds Alina’s drink out between the chatting pair. He was purposely blocking Austin’s view of her face. Alina turns to look up at him. “Ay, I got your drink.” He says, his eyes fixated on the guy next to her. Alina slowly takes the drink from him.
“Thank you, Josh…” She says.
“No problem.” He says quickly, now slowly swaying from left to right, a sign of impatience.
Alina continued to stare at him, but he would never meet her gaze. No, he was watching Austin, who was smirking at him. “You gonna sit down, Uce?” Jon asks, leaning forward. The elder twin was ready to jump up to stop his brother from doing anything stupid.
“Nah, I’m good.” He says, not breaking his glare. “You good, Uce?” He asks Austin. That was him telling Austin to move. Here he goes, Alina thought. She finally looks away from him, her lips touching the brim of her cup. She slowly tilts the cup back, drinking the cup full with no breaks. It’s going to be a long night. Austin scoffs slightly, his smile still intact.
“You got it.” He says finally, putting his hands up in defeat. He moves back into his previous spot. Josh moves to sit down in his seat.
“Was that necessary?” Alina asks.
He reaches down, grabbing her legs and pulling them between his own. “Yep.” Alina probably shouldn’t have giggled, but the two mixed drinks she shotgunned and tequila shots were beginning to creep up on her. He shouldn’t grab her like that.
“And who are you supposed to be?” She asks. Josh doesn’t answer her. Instead, he takes a swig of the beer in his hand. She places two fingers on his left cheek, forcing him to look at her. She lifts her eyebrows, waiting for a response. One never came. “That’s what I thought.” She drops her hand from his face. They would exchange stares until Josh would glance down at her lips. Lina would suck in a deep breath before inevitably looking away. He shouldn’t look at her like that. “Well, I want another drink.” She mutters to herself. “Who wants drinks?” She asks.
“I do,” Austin chimes in.
Alina moves to stand but is pulled back down to Josh. She plops into his lap, a gasp leaving her lips as she does so. He really shouldn’t grab her like that. “Nah, get someone else to do it.” He says. Alina’s brows furrow at him before she reaches down to remove his hand from her thigh.
“Please, go to hell.” She says, prying his hand off of her.
“Or I can go with you to the bar. How about that?” When she stands, so does he. She doesn’t argue with him, but she does roll her eyes. Alina turned her attention to the group again, only to find them staring at the pair. They weren’t sure what they were seeing. Was it fighting, flirting, or some sick combination of both? “Drinks?” She asks, gesturing to everyone.
“Get me another beer, Uce,” Jon says.
“Vodka Cran for me.” Orders Trinity.
“Two more shots of tequila.” Gionna requests.
“I’ll have a beer too.” Austin adds.
Alina steps around the couch, marching over to the bar. Josh follows behind her, leaving the group once more. Everyone exchanged glances at each other after the exchange. “They get like this every time they drink together,” Jon says, shaking his head. “How long before they fight and get us kicked out?” He asks, looking at Trinity.
“Depends. How many fruity drinks have Alina had?” She asks. It was always the fruity drinks that got poor Alina.
“Just one so far.” Gionna answers.
“It’s that bad?” Austin asks.
“Yes, fool!” Jon exclaims. “That’s why I said leave her alone! Them folks are crazy!” Alina and Josh, with alcohol in their systems, are a match made in Hell. Josh had been drinking since before Alina got to the club. The beer in his hand was his seventh. He had about three more in him before he was at the point of no return. Alina was on her third mixed drink, two of which were fruity. The tequila shots would bring her up to five drinks in total. She swears she has a high tolerance for alcohol, much like Josh does, but doesn’t. Neither of them do.
Separately, they were fine, but together? It’s a whole other story.
Josh follows behind Alina, his pace slower than hers. To him, it seemed she was trying to put space between them. She would tell him he was correct if he had to assume out loud. She shouldn't be turned on by the way he was acting tonight, but here she was, practically foaming at the mouth. Alina makes it to the bar, eyes fixated on the alcohol on the wall before her. The bartender would immediately come to her, ready to take her order. “One tequila sunrise, three beers, and a Vodka Cran.” Alina orders. She turns to Josh, who’s watching her. “I’m forgetting something.”
“Gigi’s shots.” He answers.
“Oh, right! And two tequila shots!” She says, turning to the bartender. The bartender walks away, leaving the couple alone. Josh placed his beer on the bar top and leaned in towards Alina.
“You look good.” He tells her.
She glances at him out of the corner of her eye. “Okay.”
“Here you go.” He huffs, shaking his head at her.
“What do you want me to say? Thank you?”
“Uh, yes? That’s the normal thing to say to compliments, Alina.”
She wasn’t much of a compliments person. It makes her feel like someone wants something from her when she hears them. The people pleaser in her would forever deliver even when she didn’t want to. “Thank you, Joshua.” She says finally.
“You’re trying to be funny.”
“I said thank you!” She says, laughing. Josh places his hand on the barstool behind Alina, blocking her in. After a bit of silence, she turns to him. “You look good too.” She says, leaning into him. The bartender put out her tequila sunrise, and she immediately grabbed it.
Josh glances down at his appearance. “Do I?” She nods. “I put this on for you.” He jokes. Alina would take a sip of her drink, humming softly at it. “Is it good?” Josh asks, leaning into her again.
“Yeah, taste it.” She brings her glass to his lips, all while still holding his gaze. Her stare always made him weak in the knees. All she had to do was look at him, and Josh was under her command. He’d part his lips slightly, allowing the rim of the glass to touch his lips. She’d tilt it back, letting the orange liquid touch his tongue. The taste of Orange Juice came and went quickly. All that was left behind was the strong taste of tequila. Josh pulls his head back. “Yeah?” She asks, lowering her drink.
“Nah,” He says quickly, shaking his head. “That drink is strong as hell.” They both start to laugh. God, they were drunk. Alina leans into his arms, burying her face in his chest. His hand would move from the chair and touch her back. That touch was the catalyst for what was to come. His fingertips would trace her spine, sending shivers along her body. She’d arch towards him, lifting her head to look at him. They were very close, their noses almost touching.
“You shouldn’t touch me like that.” She whispers.
“My bad.” He whispers back. His hand would curl against the small of her back, now closing and opening in a scratching manner. She shakily breathes, her head tilting down to break his gaze. “Lina.” He calls to her.
Ah, fuck it, Alina thought as she pulled his face to hers in a bruising kiss.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: So y'all blew the first and second parts of this up...that's cool lol.
Thank you to everyone who is reading this so far! I really do appreciate all the kindness and support I am receiving! It means a lot to me!
Stay tuned for part four!
🏷️list: @paigereeder @wrestlingprincess80 @thesamoanqueen @whatdoeseverybodywant @alichesmi @reci1996 @cyberdejos2 @empressdede @trashbin-nie @meannaim @siriuslycee
#jey uso#jey uso fanfiction#jey uso x black oc#jey uso x oc#wwe fanfiction#wwe fic#main event jey uso
82 notes
·
View notes
Text
Between Us Pt 8
Summary: You and Spencer had a casual relationship. A misunderstanding ruins it all.
Pairing: Spencer Reid × F. BAU Reader
Warnings: Friends with benefits. Pregnancy.
Part 7
See my Masterlist Here
Three Months Later
A white frosted cake decorated with a hand drawn baby on it sat in front of you. Penelope was thrilled to be god mother to your baby, and she wanted to do a gender reveal party. You didn't mind and she was excited, so you and Spencer let her plan this little get together at Rossi's.
You held the knife alongside Spencer, bringing it down to slice the cake. When the piece was cut, you held a plate as he placed the cake on it, revealing pink bread. Penelope squealed "It's a girl!" Spencer hugged you, "I told you." He said, beaming. You had been convinced you were having a boy, but Spencer said he had a feeling the baby was a girl.
"About time we had a girl in the family! She will have all these boys wrapped around her finger in no time." JJ hugged you, nodding towards Jack and Henry running around the yard. Everyone congratulated you while the cake was being served. You were finally starting to show, your baby bump looked huge in your normal clothes. But in the maternity clothes you bought a few days ago, it looked small.
Spencer took you shopping over the weekend when he found you crying because your jeans wouldn't button anymore. He went all out, splurging on a new wardrobe. He even got you two pairs of shoes because your feet were starting to swell especially after work.
Tears welled in your eyes as you watched your coworkers interact with each other. You really loved them like family. Well, everyone except for Ashley who was noticeably absent tonight. You heard a rumor she wasn't happy at the BAU and was looking to transfer. You hoped it was true. She had been nicer to you after her talk with Hotch when she pushed you. You still didn't like her, only tolerating her because you had too.
It was getting late, and you were tired, so you went to take a small nap on Rossi's sofa. You found Penelope sitting there playing on her phone. She told you to lay your head in her lap while she shopped. She was already ordering the baby frilly dresses and matching headbands. You closed your eyes, drifting off pretty quickly.
When you woke up, Morgan was carrying you to the car. You and Spencer had been staying the night with each other for months. You fell back into your old situationship. The pregnancy hormones made you insatiable. Spencer was happy to help you, but you didn't want to get too close to him again. He had hurt you, and you were still offended that he only wanted to be with you because you were pregnant. He tried to argue, but you know that's what it was.
When you got back to Spencer's apartment, you took a quick shower. A new episode of your favorite show was coming on soon. You and Spencer cuddled on the couch watching it. When it was over, he took you to bed, making love to you twice before work the next morning.
A/N: If you have any ideas for a baby name, let me know!! ♥️
Tags
@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @loz-3 @megharat-barnes-reid @kats72 @mochie85 @cakesandtom @spenciesprincess @kimm4710 @tmilover1993 @nomajdetective @cynbx @comboboo @134340ona @wannabewolf @weirdothatwritess @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @freegardenbanananeck @lover-of-books-and-tea @maybe-not-this @drewsandsebastianswife @lamentis-10 @lizzyk137 @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch @rosylnsworld @amortencjja @ah-blossom @dreamsarebig @khxna @diasnohibng @nommingonfood @sp3ncelle @pleasantwitchgarden @isakslilsmile @lavvylove @creaming4daddy @justdianaz @aubs444 @im-this-girl @xblueriddlex @spencerreidsgf420 @witchsbitchestime @lovelyygirl8 @chonkybonky @prentissesredtanktop @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @ilikw @theoraekenslover @queenshu
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x you#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x fanfiction#between us
124 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi, can you pls make smutty fluffy fic with stalker bada x reader where like reader is regular customer of bada’s cafe or sth and bada gets obsessed day by day then stalked reader without knowing reader has a crush on her. Then they ended up together!! thanks in advance!xoxo<3
The Perfect Stalker | Bada Lee x Fem Reader | 21+
Summary: you met a beautiful barista who turned out to be your stalker.
Word count: 2.1k
Warnings: fingering, stalking, thigh riding MDNI
Readers discretion is advised!!
A/N: might be a bit rushed but I think you will like it. Love you!!
"Welcome in. What can I get for you today?" Bada said as a customer walked through the door.
Working at that coffee shop was part of her usual routine. She used to dread every time she had to clock in since dealing with customers wasn't really something she wanted to do every day.
"I'll have a latte with three pumps of vanilla and a splash of heavy cream and make it a decaf with oat milk," The woman said.
"Sure thing. Would you like that hot or iced?" Bada said but the woman wasn't paying her any mind as she looked at her phone.
"Ma'am?" Bada asked once more.
"Uh, no iced. I'm here every day, you should know this. The name is Yujin. Keep the change," the woman tossed the money on the counter and walked off.
Bada took a deep breath. She clutched the money and threw it into the register.
"I swear I can't do this any longer," Bada said to her coworker.
"Those dance classes won't pay themselves, Bada," He replied with a smile. She rolled her eyes and turned to the bar to begin making a drink.
The cafe was very empty. Rush hour was over and Bada began to clean the counters when she heard the door open.
"Hi, welcome in," She said and looked up to greet the person but she froze.
You stood before her with a warm smile. Dressed in ripped jeans with a white crop top and sneakers, your hair was up in a claw clip and a few strands were loose at the front you walked into the register.
Bada was mesmerized by you. She was frozen in her spot and just looked at you as you looked at the menu above her.
"How good is your lemon pie? I heard good things about it but I'm not really into lemon flavors," you said diverting your sight to her.
she swallowed hard and didn't answer until the guy next to her nudged her shoulder.
"Oh, um... sorry. I am not a fan of it but you could try our chocolate and strawberry pastry. It's balanced so it isn't too sweet," she replied not daring to look at you.
"Oh, I'll have that and a regular black coffee," You said as you handed the car to her. She nervously reached out and took the card from your hands exposing her wave tattoo at you.
"That's a beautiful tattoo, miss. What's your name?" You asked wanting to know more about the gorgeous girl before your eyes.
"I'm Bada. Lee Bada," she said still looking down.
"Oh, hence the tattoo. I love it. Your eyes are pretty too," you said with a giggle making her look up at you.
"Ha, made you look," You said and she finally smiled.
"Here is your card back," she said and you took the card in your hands.
"Y/N, do you want to go to the beach this summer or should we go to the countryside?" A male voice said as he walked up to you. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and you saw Bada's face turn sour.
"I'm busy, Min. Can you wait for me out there?" You said as you pushed him off you.
"I was going to say... I really like your tattoo. That wave is so cute," you smiled and she blushed.
"Bada... make that drink," her coworker said making her turn and almost slip. You giggled at her clumsy actions finding it cute how flustered she became around you.
So for the next couple of days, you would show up to buy a coffee and just sit in the lobby to watch her work. What you didn't know was that over the course of the days, Bada would leave work and follow you around.
She followed every step you took from a distance all the way to your home. She would sit at a bench in front of your house and she would watch who walked in and out.
Her blood would boil every time she saw Min walk out of your house late at night. She wanted to rip his head off and then present it to you as a trophy for your love.
-
A few weeks passed by and you had caught Bada following you. You knew you were head over heels for the girl, but you didn't know she also felt the same way. Why else would she be following you, right?
"Min, grandma needs you to go to take care of her for a few days. Mom has to travel to her new job. Please?" You asked your brother on the phone as you waited to order.
Bada popped from under the counter and smiled at you.
"What can I get for you?" She said.
"I'll take a regular iced coffee. Black," you said.
"Are you at that coffee shop again? Are you there to see your girlfriend, the barista, Bada?" He said and you thanked the seven seas you didn't have him on speakerphone.
"You know what? Mom should've given you up for adoption when we were born. Having a fraternal twin sucks. Go take care of grandma, Min before I rip your hair out," you said into the phone and hung up immediately.
"Here is that coffee for you," Bada said as she placed your drink on the counter. You looked at the cup and noticed that it wasn't a regular glass cup and it was in a plastic cup.
"Oh, what happened to your glass cups?" You asked.
"Nothing. We still have them but I just thought that you might have something to do after and you wouldn't want to be late," she said not looking at you.
"Um... are you kicking me out?" You said while grabbing the cold drink.
"No! Oh my gosh... I mean... I'm sorry," she said as she picked up the mess she made while panicking over your words.
"I'm kidding. I do have to go to the gym and I'm always late so, thank you for the drink. I'll see you later," you said flashing her a wink.
She melted. Everything about you made her go crazy. She knew following you around was probably wrong but she couldn't help it.
So you went to the gym and then headed home. You looked back once when you heard footsteps. Then you felt a presence behind you but there was no one. You knew Bada was probably hiding behind a wall or a bush but decided to ignore it and simply giggle while you walked.
When you reached the door to your house, you carefully unlocked it and stopped. You turned back and looked around when you saw a pair of shoes behind a bush.
"So, are you going to keep following me around like that?" You asked but she didn't move.
"Bada, I know you're right there. Come on out," you said once more and her shoes slowly moved.
"Do you want to come in?" You asked and she fiddled with her fingers walking slowly towards you.
You huffed and walked to her holding her wrist and pulling her into your house. You asked her to sit on the couch and offered her a cup of chamomile tea when you saw how tense she looked.
"So, why have you been following me from afar?" You asked.
"I'm sorry. I know it's creepy and you have a boyfriend so I don't want any problems. You're really pretty and I wanted to be close to you but I can't bring myself to talk to you," she said quickly.
"Whoa! Why do you think I have a boyfriend?" You asked.
"The boy that comes and leaves your house. Isn't that your boyfriend?" She said.
"Ew! Gross. That is my twin brother. Fraternal twins, so we look nothing alike. Bada, you know how much I've been meaning to flirt with you but you never look at me? It was honestly driving me insane..." you said taking a sip of your wine glass.
"Wait... what?" she said and tilted her head like a curious puppy making your heart flutter.
"What? You're a cute, and very attractive dancer. Though when you dance, you are extremely hot... but I have been watching you as well. I am attracted to you, Bada. In every possible way," You drank the last of your wine and put the glass down walking towards her.
You saw how she flinched back and you furrowed your brows at her reaction. Sure, you were being too direct and you didn't know how Bada would react but you need to know if she wanted you like you wanted her.
"Is that not why you followed me around the neighborhood? I caught you in the bus, the gym, the grocery store, and the alleyway. For Pete's sake, Bada. You sat in front of my house for hours. If not, then what was the reason?" you asked waiting for an answer as you sat closer to her.
You saw how nervous she was getting and decided to back off.
"Sorry. You know what? I can be too much at times so just ignore me. I'll call you an Uber to take you home," You said but as you were about to get up you felt her grip on your wrist.
You turned and met with the most gorgeous eyes looking up at you ever so innocently but hungry for one thing. You.
"Bada-"
"No, let me talk. I have been dying to talk to you because I... well, I've never dated or been with a woman before but you're so pretty and I was just drawn to you. Please don't let me leave. I'll regret it if I do," Bada said almost pleading.
Your heart softened at the sight of the tall girl looking up at you but there was something more.
"What do you want from me, Bada?" You asked and she pulled you making you fall on top of her. You ended up in her lap and her hands went around your waist.
"I want you. In every possible way," Bada responded and you immediately clashed your lips with hers hungry for a kiss. She bit your bottom lip and her hands moved up and down your shirt.
Soft groans escaped her lips when you began to move down her neck. Her grip on your waist tightened and you could feel her nails dig into your skin when you used your hand to squeeze one of her clothed breasts.
"Y/N~" she moaned and you smiled.
"I'll give you what you need," you said. You moved your leg so you could straddle her.
Your hand was already sliding into her pants and her legs parted willingly allowing you full access to her now-wet cunt. You inserted a finger inside of her with no warning causing her to yell out.
"Fuck... you're so wet for me, huh?" Y/N said as she pumped slowly in and out of the girl. She was already a moaning mess. You didn't stop your moments and you sped up by the minute searching for her spot.
"I- I never thought- I would end up in this- AH! Please, don't... stop..." she said between moans.
"Wouldnt think of it, Bada," you said curling your finger inside of her making her yell out in pleasure. You found it. You kept pressing down on it as your thumb rubbed her overstimulated clit.
You had already came just from watching her and riding her thigh but you didn't care about yourself. You were in ecstasy just from being able to touch Bada. You had been longin in desire of her in every single way.
With one last stroke and her body already shaking, she came on your hand and you brought it to her lips for her to taste herself shoving your finger deep down her throat making her moan even more.
After a few seconds, you both finally came to your senses.
"Holy shit, how are you so good?" Bada asked and you giggled without saying another word.
You stood up and took her to your room where you both got cleaned up and in bed.
"You know... you could've just talked to me," you said as you looked at Bada.
"No... I couldn't have," she said and you sat up.
"Why not?" You questioned
"When you walked in the shop... you were so surreal. You were just so perfect and I am too shy for my own good," Bada replied.
"You're so cute. Come here," You said pulling her into your chest and stroking her hair.
"I'm here for you now,"
Thank you for reading 🩵
#forbebeandjam#honeybee156#street woman fighter 2#bebe#swf2#lgbt#bada lee#bada lee smut#bada lee imagine#bada lee x reader#bada lee fluff#fluff#street woman fighter x reader
70 notes
·
View notes
Text
Month 15 - Newleaf
“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join beneath the Stoneperch for a Clan meeting!”
Floodpaw sat up from his evening nap in surprise. “Wait, what?”
“Oh, Stars,” Barleypaw rolled onto her paws beside him. “Is it now? I’m not ready!”
Floodpaw looked up at Goldenstar where she stood on the stone above her den and found her smiling directly at him. It was definitely happening right now. He quickly ran a paw over his ears to tidy his messy fur. Barleypaw was organizing her feathers very particularly, making fretfull noises as she did. Floodpaw sighed and leaned over to straighten the ones behind her head for her.
“You look great,” he soothed, “don’t worry about it.”
“Mmm,” she whined, “if you say so.”
“Look, Sparrowpaw’s already beat us down there,” he said, pointing to where their brother was waiting with perfect posture.
“Okay, okay,” sighed Barleypaw. “I’m ready.”
Together, they bounded down from the top of the warriors’ den to sit next to Sparrowpaw in the front of the crowd. He looked over at them and smiled and Floodpaw felt a sudden spike of nerves in his belly. It was really happening. After moons of hard work, he was going to be a warrior. The Clan was gathered around him and he could feel the pride swelling in the air.
“Today,” Goldestar began, smiling ear to ear, “I am happy to say, we have a very special ceremony to hold, one I’m sure many of you have been eagerly awaiting.” Floodpaw squared his shoulders in an attempt to look noble. He had been expecting to get his name after the Battle with Razor but Russetfrond had insisted on the three of them completing their final assessments and Goldenstar had been unclear about whether or not they had passed. It was such a relief to finally know for certain that he was going to be a warrior.
Goldenstar’s next words pulled his rising hopes crashing back down to earth. “Lake, would you step forward?”
“What?” he couldn’t stop himself.
“Shh,” Barleypaw hissed. Lake bounced out of the crowd where she had been sitting with Fogpaw and Slatepaw and looked up at Goldenstar with big blue eyes.
“Yes, ma’am?” she asked in her little voice. Floodpaw couldn’t help but smile despite his disappointment. The kid deserved this.
“Do you still want to join the Clan like we talked about?” asked Goldenstar kindly.
“Oh, yes!” purred Lake. “I wanna learn to do stuff like all the ‘Paws do!” A few cats laughed softly to themselves. Floodpaw rolled his eyes.
“And did you want to change your name like we talked about?”
“Mhm!”
“Then I welcome you as a member of RisingClan. From this day on, until you become an apprentice, you will be known as Lakekit. Welcome home.”
“Lakekit! Lakekit!” cats cheered and Floodpaw joined in once or twice.
Even Lakekit got in on the action. “Lakekit!” she beamed and then giggled to herself like it was the funniest thing she’d ever done. Even Goldenstar couldn’t stop herself from chuckling at that.
“And with that,” Goldenstar said and Floodpaw wilted, “Our meeting is- Oh wait, that’s right!” She grinned mischievously as she said, “I knew I was forgetting something! Floodpaw, Barleypaw, Sparrowpaw, please step forward.”
Floodpaw frowned, puffing up a bit as cats chuckled at the joke, but it was all in good fun. He shook it off and stepped forward with his littermates, taking a deep breath to once again pull himself into a more noble looking shape. Barleypaw brushed her tail against his leg, smiling at him, and then focused on Goldenstar. He glanced at Sparrowpaw but his brother was completely professional.
Goldenstar’s smile turned warmer as she continued, “The three of you have worked hard to become excellent warriors and I couldn’t be more proud. You are the first apprentices to complete their training since the plague which is a promising sign. If you three are any indicator of how our Clan is growing, we are on the right track.” Floodpaw realized he was on the verge of tears. The energy in the air was intoxicatingly full of love and it resonated within him near overwhelmingly.
“Floodpaw, Barleypaw, Sparrowpaw,” Goldenstar said, “do you three promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?”
“I do,” they chorused, confident and sure.
“Then by the powers of StarClan,” Goldenstar purred, “I give you your warrior names.” She leapt down from the Stoneperch to stand in front of them and said, “Floodpaw, you have proven yourself to be a capable fighter, eager to defend your Clanmates with the speed and force of a roaring flood. From this moment on, you will be known as Floodstrike. Your Clan honors your drive and welcomes you as a full warrior of RisingClan.”
She leaned forward and rested her muzzle on his head, purring strongly, and Floodstrike leaned in to lick her shoulder, eyes lingering briefly on the scar now hiding in her neck fur. The Clan began to cheer his name. He stood back and lifted his head to look around at them, chest swelling with pride. He had done it. Finally, the warriors around him were his equals. It was almost too good to be true.
“Barleypaw,” Goldenstar moved on once the chanting faded, “you have grown so much from the day you were apprenticed, becoming a confident and kind-hearted young warrior unafraid to challenge what she knows is wrong. For this reason, I give you the name Barleybee. Though you may seem small at times, you have a courageous sting that shouldn’t be underestimated. Your Clan honors you for your boldness and welcomes you as a full warrior of RisingClan.”
Now she and Goldenstar repeated the ceremonial gesture as cats chanted her name. Yarrowshade’s voice cut through the noise with a rowdy string of celebratory whoops. Barleybee laughed and raised her tail as she beamed at him. Floodstrike bumped his shoulder against hers and she purred, bonking heads with him.
“Sparrowpaw,” said Goldenstar, “you have always shown a dedication to a warrior's duties that any cat could admire, but I would like to highlight the way you have tempered that dedication with thoughtfulness and foresight. Like a bird in the wind, you have learned to lean into life’s challenges with a level head and so I bestow upon you the name Sparrowsway. Your Clan honors you for your tranquility and welcomes you as a full warrior of RisingClan.”
She placed her muzzle on Sparrowsway’s head and as he leaned in to touch her shoulder, he said, “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it,” she whispered back as the Clan cheered. Then, to all the cats present, she declared, “As tradition dictates, our new warriors will spend tonight sitting a silent vigil where they are invited to meditate on their growth so far and the duties they have sworn themselves to from here on out. During this time, they are not to be disturbed, so get your congratulations out now.” She laughed a little bit and stepped back to let the rest of the Clan swarm in to speak with the new warriors.
“Oh!” Oddstripe was the first one to reach them, emotion cracking his voice. “I’m so, so proud of you three!” He wrapped his arms around Sparrowsway’s neck and rubbed his cheeks on either side of his son’s face, causing Sparrowsway to wince with mild embarrassment.
“Your name is so cool!” cried Fogpaw, pushing up close to Floodstrike’s chest. “I hope my name is that cool!”
“Yeah, right,” he laughed, putting a paw on her face and trying to shove her into the dirt. “You’re probably gonna be named Fogfart or something.”
“Nuh uh!” Fogpaw laughed and wriggled out from under him.
“Real mature,” chuckled Sparrowsway.
“I’m so proud of you, Barleygirl,” Yarrowshade bumped his head against hers gently. “I couldn’t have asked for a better apprentice.”
“Or me a better mentor,” purred Barleybee softly.
Oddstripe had moved on to pull Floodstrike into a tight hug. “My little man!” he cried, “You’ve grown so much.”
“C’mon, dad, don’t cry,” he laughed, blushing under the intense affection.
“Hey, congrats!” called Branchbark from the second row of Clanmates. “You guys deserve it!”
“Yeah!” cheered Ospreymask, “Congrats, you three!”
Russetfrond appeared beside Sparrowsway and gave him a crisp nod. “Well done.”
“Thank you,” Sparrowsway said fervently. Floodstrike imagined that was Russetfrond’s version of Oddstripe’s hugs and tears.
“Wowzers,” Lakekit practically inserted herself into the hug that Floodstrike’s father was smothering him in. “I didn’t realize you guys got new names when you grew up! Are you sad your names don’t match anymore?”
Floodstrike laughed and ruffled her fur with a paw. “Nah, we’ll always match in the ways that matter.”
Lakekit smiled and Oddstripe let out another, very emotional, “Oh!”
Eventually everyone came and congratulated them in some way, except Mystique who was still sulking in the elders’ den. As the crowd dwindled and faded, Goldenstar approached, Scorchplume lingering behind her, and bumped her forehead against Floodstrike’s.
“Hope you didn’t mind my little joke,” she said.
“I nearly died,” said Floodstrike.
“He’s not lying,” Sparrowsway laughed.
“Well, I’m glad you didn’t,” Goldenstar smiled. “You guys are going to be amazing warriors. Are you done mingling?”
“I think so,” said Barleybee. Sparrowsway nodded and Floodstrike shrugged.
“Might as well be,” he said.
“Alright,” nodded Goldenstar. “Go ahead and sit up on the Stoneperch for your vigil. From now until I come to gather you, you’re not supposed to speak a word unless there’s an emergency, understood?”
“Understood,” Floodstrike said and his littermates stifled their laughter.
“Hey!” Goldenstar feigned anger. “What did I just say?!” He laughed and sat back, paws up by his chest in surrender. Goldenstar dropped the joke with a fond smile and said, “Alright then. Good luck, you three.”
Together, they climbed the Stoneperch and settled down side by side. The stars were just starting to peek over the eastern horizon. Floodstrike looked up at them and let out a deep, contented sigh. Things were going to be alright. The war was basically over and he was finally a warrior. The three siblings settled into a comfortable silence, watching over the camp as dusk turned into a cloudless, starry night.
#clangen#clan gen#warrior cats#warriors#warrior cats oc#warriors oc#clangen oc#clan gen oc#clangenrising#Floodstrike#Barleybee#Sparrowsway#Goldenstar#Oddstripe#Lakekit#newleaf#ceremony#ceremonies#warrior ceremony
66 notes
·
View notes
Text
a collection of all the weird things that have happened to me in my life, since one of my friends said i should make one
one of my ex-friends [they cut me off bc i rightfully called out how sus it was that they went from 0 rares to a blue headdress and multiple long collars in a day] just up and vanished one day. i knew them from animal jam. they had a youtube channel and were semi-popular. i was in one of their videos, one of those animal jam adventures we played together. there were rumours they died to some illness but nothing concrete ever came out of that, but two months after that everything of their online presence disappeared. one of my friends made a video on them and their passing out of respect, but that video is gone too despite them never deleting it. we both know they existed, but none of us can find anything on them. everyone else's videos are gone too. everything about them is just gone as if they never existed
this isn't the only friend this has happened to. i've had four other friends just suddenly disappear, every trace of them existing just completely gone. typically every trace of them just disappears after 2 weeks, 2 months, or 2 weeks and 2 months. one friend was mid 2018, another friend in 2017, one in november 2019, another somewhere in early 2021, and another aj friend early 2017
this isnt as weird as everything else but we once took a picture and i saw a shiny object on it and reached down to pick it up just moments after the picture was taken but it was gone. there was only an imprint of it and it was nowhere. nobody had reached down to pick it up before me, and nobody else was around. this isnt the only object this has happened to either.
i found a human pelvis on a beach once. i am the only one that remembers this happened despite me showing both of my parents. they have no recollection of this
this didnt happen to me but it is regarding me. my mom once heard me calling for her in my room - she's in the living room sitting by the computer desk, my room is right behind the wall the computer desk is by. she answers and i don't answer back. one thing is for certain though - this was not an audiotory hallucination. she then realized that i was not home because i was in kindergarten. rightfully she was freaked the fuck out and didn't move for an hour or two
here's another story from my mom because i think its fun to include: she once heard the sounds of my dad coming home. opening the door, stepping inside, putting his shoes on the shoerrack, walking slightly into the hallway, and then all the sounds stopped. she's confused and checks the kitchen, bedroom and bathroom because those are the only three rooms he could've walked into. he's in neither of them. she's weirded out but brushes it off for a while until he comes home and makes the exact same sounds that she heard earlier that day. how interesting!
we used to have teaspoons that had two lines at the end of the spoon. one day it changed to the lines being by the front of the spoon. i asked my mom about this when i was 7 and she said "we've always had those spoons?" looking at me as if i was talking nonsense to her. we also used to have a bunch of colorful spoons! but they're also completely gone now despite us never throwing them away. i know we used to have them because i broke a blue one by biting down on it too hard once. oops.
artistic rendition of the spoons:
could also swear we used to have yellow plates matching our other colored plates [as well as cups and forks, because we bought them in a set. The Spoons Included] but we. do not have any yellow plates. my parents have said we have never had yellow plates
i could swear by my entire life that korea, thailand, china, australia and many other countries are not where they're supposed to be. this is not because of different projections. none of the projections match up to the map i know.
we used to have an orange cat named charlie, he was a stray we took in. he had no interest in going back outside and he was a cuddlebug, enjoying the safety of being inside with people that love and care for him. one day when we came home, he was completely gone as if we never had him. we asked everyone nearby if they'd seen him, but everyone said no. we only have two pictures of him [despite us taking many more of him]. here's one of them!
there were two twins that lived across our house. they were pale, had black long hair, and usually wore white - or matching dresses. sounds like a horror movie description, i know, but they actually looked like that. one day during winter after snow had fallen we found out that, when we werent home, they stood in front of our backdoor [which was honestly better described as a big window door] and windows and just stared, because their footprints were there. terrifying!
there was this one time where- apparently an alternate universe or something kinda. overlapped. or swapped? me with an alternate me. my friend rain witnessed this and apparently i called it rainai and wasn't much of an artist from what i can gather, and didn't have the same ocs as i do here. that me was also more shy and definently not the same as i was at the time. this happened in 2019
our cats teleport. i once saw one of our cats, who i will call little shit, inside, eating from the food bowls. sounds and everything from her crunching on it when i got home. i went upstairs to set up my pc and then back downstairs to say hi to her and she was nowhere to be seen. i looked around everywhere and couldn't find her, so i dmed my dad and asked if she was inside and he resopnded that she was outside. i open the door and call for her an lo and behold guess who comes running and meowing. it was not our other cat, mama cat. i can tell their shapes apart so easily
my mom and i saw a witch flying on a broom with their cat once! a shadow silhouette unmistakable for a broom, with a human on the front and cat on the end. we both looked at eachother like "you just saw that right" and just nodded
i saw a big black thing flying by my window twice the size of a raven last yeah. i'm pretty sure that was dragon shaped. four limbs and then wings. i mentioned this once in a friend group server but the chatlogs of that are just completely gone(???)
my mom once showed me an article on how they confirmed alternate universes exist. it was genuine. apparently this exact article does not exist and i am the only person i know [save for my mom] that knows alternate universes were confirmed to exist. nobody else has ever heard anything about this
there was a red pencil sharpener i checked the kitchen counter for 7 times. it was not there. it very much was not there. nobody put it there. when i asked my mom after she walked into the kitche and infront of the counter it was suddenly there after she pointed towards it for me
i will update this with a reblog if i ever remember more because my memory is very selective for some reason
#words on the wind#long post#timeline shitfuckery#unreality#<-- asked to tag but all of this /did/ happen to me
46 notes
·
View notes
Text
laser tag
summary: first date w marc BRO I NEED HIM (i'm just a girl)
word count: 1.2k
warnings: language?? i don't think this one needs any??? crazy unheard of ik i just miss my man
a/n: me spawning every three months to drop a piece ain't cool I KNOW BUT LIFE HAS BEEN SO BUSY i miss u guys i am trying so hard to be more active :((((
Marc.
Marc Spector.
His name is Marc Spector.
His name is Marc Spector, and he is downright nervous.
His palms are sweating, this is getting embarrassing. It's just a date. All he had to do is get dressed nice, the verdict being in something that he'd found in the back of his closet. It's been ages since the last time he'd needed to suit up, in not his Moon Knight getup.
He walks back to his mirror, turning to the back to make sure all of his clothing is straightened properly for what feels like the millionth time. He runs his hand down the back of his suit, bringing himself to face front and tightens his bowtie.
This is stupid. He pulls off the tie, unbuttoning the first button of his shirt and flattening it nicely against his collarbone. A tilt of his head to the clock tells him the time: 5:45. He shakes his hands out lightly, trying to muster up some sort of confidence before he grabs his keys and makes his way out the door.
He navigates his way to the place you two had picked out, nervousness bending to excitement as he sees the flashy sign. Its effervescent light is so enticing he finds himself pumping on the gas in excitement. After parking and stepping out of his car, he sees you at the door.
Well, that's sure to stop him in his tracks.
You're dressed up in his favorite color. You’d asked him, the night before. He snorts. What a sneaky move. Your outfit fits you perfectly, and your smile when you notice him is to die for. He feels his hands getting clammy again and his cheeks dusting as he wills his wobbly knees to move towards you.
“Hi,” he drops out, nearly breathless as he comes within talking distance. You're even more stunning up close. “You look…” You smile brightly at him, your own cheeks pink as you giggle at him. “Hey, Marc. You look,” you pat his chest, pulling at the edge of his shirt. “As well.”
He shoved your shoulder lightly. “Shut up.”
“My bad, sir.” You tease.
“Don't hit me with that,” he pushes open the door to the place, letting you walk in ahead of him. “I’m paying. Could get you a shitty gun.”
You toss your head back at him with a tilt. “Please. You know I’d still be better than you.”
“Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that.”
You both giggle as you make your way up to the front desk, Marc buying all of the tickets and you leaving punchy lines the whole way through. Soon enough, the two of you have been suited up and are ready to play.
You two had decided that you would be on the same team, fighting against another sweet couple who were just as determined to win. “Marc, look at his shirt,” You point towards one of the men's shirts. “It's white. What a bold move.” Marc snorts, but you're right; the shirt glows like headlights. You can't miss it. “How good do we think he is?” He whispers back.
“Either really fast or a newbie who doesn't quite know they use UV lights yet.”
He snorts. “Laser tag newbie. Who hasn't played laser tag?”
“Not everyone.” You bump his shoulder.
“Watch the video, baby.”
“Oh, pet names,” you giggle as you face the screen with a shit eating grin. “Didn't know we were there yet.”
“We don't have to be.” Panic flashes across his face.
“No, no. I think it's sweet.”
With that, you two go silent, both blushing from the high of your banter. You make your way out into the room soon after, settling into a competitive spirit. You quickly map out your plan to tackle the other couple based on what you had seen and previous experiences with laser tag, kicking into rapidfire excitement with Marc on your heels.
The game will start in… the automated voice booms on the loudspeaker, nearly scaring you. Marc giggles at your surprise, but a sharp slap to the side quickly quiets him.
3…
He turns his focus to you, admiring the way your brows are furrowed in concentration and your fingers flex impatiently in time with the dart of your eyes. You're locked in, solely focused on the game.
2…
Your lips curl into a slight smile. You know he's looking at you; he hasn't quite figured out that subtlety, you've gathered. It's exhilarating, confidence boosting, to have someone so blatantly admiring you.
1…
He realizes he's staring. That’s so creepy, he scolds himself, turning forward and remaps the room in front of him. He scouts out the best hiding spots, how to get to where he needed to go, kicking into his dump of internal lunar habits.
Fight!
He's off in a flash, bounding forward in a mess of anticipation and adrenaline. He's determined to impress you, ready to rub it in– only a little– when he places first and you second.
Oh, is he in for a shocker.
You’ll give it to him. His moves are so smooth and calculated. He moves with the agility of a cat, dipping left and right. His eyes scan for any movement, so meticulous you’d think that maybe there was a cat up in his brain, telling him what moves to make next. But he lacks one thing. In all his glory, in all his advantages, you have one thing to top him.
Patience.
You pause, you don't move to take the higher ground, you crouch, and you wait. You let one of the men come forth, let him think you didn't see the way he crept behind the block to your left. You let him think he won.
He launches forward, as you had expected, triumphant in the thought that he had captured you, unbeknownst to you. You turn, shutting one eye and slamming your finger down on the trigger button.
The shot seems to go in slow motion to you and to the man. It felt like a shot out of a movie, so picturesque that you couldn't breathe through the cliche. It blips into the plastic on his chest with a blue flicker, surprising him. You can hear his confidence shatter with the ring of the buzzer.
The man turns, heading back to his base to revive himself, only turning back once to nod with a sense of respect. You tilt your head back at him, smiling. With that, you dart off towards where you see Marc, gaping at you from behind a barricade.
Your free hand cups his cheek as soon as you get close enough to touch him, bringing your face up and just a hare's breath away from his own. “How'd I do?” You murmur. He blinks helplessly at you, barely managing to conceal his groan when you pull away from him.
“C’mon, lover boy,” you turn back, ushering him forward. “We got a laser tag game to win.” He follows you without a question nor a word, a dumbstruck smile painting his face.
He definitely chose the right person.
#marc sillies :3#moon knight#moon knight tv#moon knight imagine#marc spector#marc spector imagine#oscar isaac#oscar issac characters#marvel
34 notes
·
View notes
Text
Let Me Help You Idiot! Hajime Kokonoi (Tokyo Revengers)
You met Koko when you were younger, and he took you under his wing. As an inspiring designer, you loved to make him nice clothes. As you get older, you want to be more independent, but Koko will always look out for you. Kokonoi x Reader (Bonten Timeline)
From the moment you were born, you had to fight tooth and claw to survive. Your dad left when you were three, leaving you and your mum with nothing. Your mum went back to being a hostess, meaning you were left alone in the single-room apartment you had. She was good at her job, earning lots of money and expensive gifts from suitors. But she had addictions and spent the money on drugs. From a young age, you had to fend for yourself and learn to survive, from clothing and making meals to keeping the apartment clean and ensuring mum put enough money aside for bills. Luckily, the neighbours took pity on you and helped pay for your school things, and one lady taught you how to sew, saying it would help you in the future to have a skill to pay the bills. You kept up your sewing throughout school, getting better and managing to sell some of your wares at a local market on the weekend.
This is where you met Hajime Kokonoi, and you took pride when he complimented the intricate details you embellished your clothes with. He decided you were going to be his personal designer in the future, and he was going to help you make a name for yourself.
PRESENT DAY
Koko kept his promise to help you, using his money and connections to get you into a good design school. All he asked in retum was you make all his clothes custom and free of charge, and of course you said yes because it was the least you could do. By now, he was on executive in Bonten, a criminal organisation and he liked to look nice because he had an image to maintain.
After working for a couple of designers, you saved enough to open your own shop in Tokyo, and it felt nice to pay with your our money instead of Koko's. Bonten kept Koko busy, so you didn't like bothering him unless he called you. You had one big problem, you had no real clue about money and expenses of running a business. And now you had to pay taxes on top of that, which went over your head. You chose to focus on commissions to make more money and filled in all the forms to the best of your abilities. Little did you know it would come back to bite you in the ass.
KOKO
I was busy dealing with the financial mess Sanzu had left for me after his last mission.
'I'm surrounded by idiots,' I groan, rubbing my temples.
'Err boss, I have the reports you asked for,' some lacky who's name I didn't deem important to lean stutters, standing in the doorway of my office. Even though y/n had paid for their shop and was getting quite a few comissions, I liked to keep an eye on them. They were a year younger than me and had become like a younger sibling I felt protective over. When we met up, we didn't talk about money, and I knew if they had a problem, they would come to me for help. However, my eyes widened, seeing the financial report in front of me.
'What the hell?' I gasp.
How could they be so careless when it came to finance? Firstly, they were paying way too much rent for the area, and secondly, the government wasn't happy with their taxes, which they had underpaid. They were close to losing their shop and facing a big penalty from the government who thought they were committing fraud.
I grabbed my jacket and car keys, needing to see them before the problem got out of hand. I run out of my office, ignoring Sanzu, having bigger fish to fry.
The light was still on in the shop when I pulled up outside. They liked to work late if they had a deadline. I enter the shop and the bell pings. I lock the door behind me and turn the open sign to closed.
'Hi, how can I help you - Koko, what are you doing here?' y/n stares at me, tilting their head to the side in confusion.
I walk over to the counter and put the file down in front of them, 'if you didn't understand, why didn't you ask me to explain?'
They open it, and the colour drains from their face, 'am I in big trouble? I thought I'd look dumb if I had to keep asking you to help me!'
I sigh loudly, 'yeah, well, you look pretty dumb right now, so that didn't work out for you.'
They look down at their feet and shuffle nervously, 'the last time we had coffee, you were stressed dealing with your colleagues' finances. I didn't want to give you any more stress, so I did what the internet told me to do filling out the forms. I'm sorry Koko. What do I do now?'
I walk and the counter and pull them into my arms. I didn't like to show emotion in front of the other executives, but y/n was the exception. I needed to protect them.
I kiss the top of their head, 'in the future don't take any extra comissions after you've submitted your taxes for the financial year until the new one starts or the govenment will think you're committing fraud. I'll get this sorted for you, and remember you can come to me whenever you need help.'
They squeeze me tightly, 'I'll never be able to pay you back, Koko. Sorry for being an idiot.'
I snort, you're the only idiot I can stand.'
Not wanting them to stress anymore, I'd also handle the rent problem for them, no one messed with the people close to me.
#tokyo revengers headcanons#tokyo revengers imagines#tokyo revengers fanfiction#tokyo rev#tokyo rev imagines#tokyo rev fanfiction#tokyo rev bonten#tokyo revengers bonten#bonten tokyo revengers#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyo rev x reader#hajime kokonoi#hajime kokonoi imagines#hajime kokonoi bonten#koko x reader#koko bonten#bonten imagines#tokyo revengers kokonoi#kokonoi hajime#kokonoi x reader
24 notes
·
View notes
Text
Skateboard 4
Wind breaker
fem bodied reader | smut | action | pwp | jayjo/fml | vinny/fml | wooin/fml | joker/fml | hyuk/fml | owen/fml | enemies to lovers | angsty | the other woman (?) | reverse harem | fluff | SLOW BURN! | all characters featured are 18+
author's note: interaction with Jay is now finally happening 😩👊
✧˖° — windbreaker men
✧˖° — mdni, smut, description of not safe for work content.
✧˖° — this is a story not one shot.
The next day, I couldn't stop thinking about what happened. The events of yesterday were driving me crazy, and I wanted to scream in my room. The Sabbath Crew kept popping into my mind—Wooin, Joker, and especially Jay from Hummingbird. I bit my finger while staring at the blackboard. Our physics teacher was checking our assignments. I did Dom’s assignment as promised, and I also did Jay’s. I ignored his suggestion to work on it together. There was no way I was doing that. Besides, I could handle it on my own.
But when I handed Jay his assignment, he seemed annoyed. Was he really mad at me, or was that just his usual expression?
"Is this real?" Our teacher looked up in surprise. "Dom, Jay, and Demitra got the highest scores on the assignment," he announced to the class. "All three of them tied for the highest score."
Dom’s jaw dropped as he stared at me, but I kept looking out the window. Honestly, the assignment was tough, but I managed to ace it.
"Come on, Sir! Can't you believe I have some hidden genius too?" Dom shouted, making everyone laugh.
"Well, I just can't believe anyone matched Jay's score. He always gets the highest in our class." The teacher looked at me. "It seems our new student is competing with him. This is very exciting." He grinned.
Jay kept his usual cold expression, staring at his notebook. I shrugged and started packing my things since the teacher was leaving and it was time to go home. Our classmates started making noise again as soon as the teacher left. It was like a zoo with all the ruckus they were causing. I never expected Korean students to be this loud.
I froze when I saw someone standing in front of my desk. It was Dom...
"Can we talk to you?" he asked with a sweet smile plastered on his face.
"Who's 'we'?" I replied, then noticed Jay, Mia, and Yuna also standing up.
"We saw how you ride a bike, and I gotta admit, you're really good," Dom said, stroking his chin as if deep in thought. "I don't know what happened yesterday that made Jay win when it was obvious you should have."
"Maybe Jay's just better than her," Yuna interjected, giving me a dirty look.
I smiled sarcastically. "I still don't see why you're all here in front of me."
"Join us." We all turned to Jay. His eyes were directly on mine. "Join our crew," he clarified.
I laughed, but when I realized they were serious, I laughed again.
"What is this? This is so random." I shook my head and put my notebook in my bag. "I lost, so why would I join your crew? Besides, I already did your assignments, so why—"
"Shelly's been gone for months now because of a family emergency in England. We need a rider for the cycling tournament. We're short one person for the next round. It's only temporary," Dom explained, making puppy eyes at me.
I felt like a bucket of cold water was poured over me when he mentioned Shelly's name. I had suspected she might be the Shelly I knew, and now I was right. It really was her.
I clenched my fists.
"And didn't you say that if you beat Jay, you'd join their crew? It means you really want to join—" Mia started, but I cut her off.
"Believe it or not, I was just joking back then." I looked away from them. "I didn't expect you to take it seriously. Look, I'm selling my bike because I don't use it anymore. Just find another rider or bring Shelly back." I stood up. But before I could leave, someone grabbed my arm. I looked up to see Jay staring at me with no emotion on his face.
"I'll do all your assignments this time," he uttered. "Just join us," he said firmly.
"I don't need your help."
"But we do."
I looked at him in disbelief, meeting his gaze. Okay, I had to admit, I wanted to try their tournament, but I didn't want to show my face. I knew Sangho was handling that event. He might recognize me, and I didn't want him to know I was in Korea.
"Fine," I said, and Dom, Yuna, and Mia's eyes widened as if I had said something shocking. "Don't help me with physics, just Korean," I added, looking away.
"Wow, you really don't seem like someone who struggles with our language," Mia remarked, amazed.
I gave them a small smile. "Just tell me the time of your training," I said to Jay.
"We were planning to train right now," Dom chimed in.
Oh fuck
This isn't bad, right? And it's only temporary. They just really need a player for a new match. I sighed, thinking about Shelly again. That woman... So she's Jay Jo's girlfriend. I thought they were talking about a different Shelly because there was no way that woman would come to Korea. Last time she told me, no matter how boring her life got, she wouldn't go to her mother's country.
"I really appreciate you accepting our request," Mia said suddenly as we walked out of the school. "If I could join them, I would, but I'm not really good at biking." She said sadly.
"When is Shelly supposed to come back?" I asked, looking at the parked bikes. I can't believe I kept saying I wouldn't bike, but I still use it to get to school.
"We still don't have any news from her... Actually, I'm starting to worry, especially for Jay." We both glanced at Jay, who was now putting on his helmet.
"Why?"
She swallowed. "Ever since she left, Jay hasn't had any contact with Shelly. These past few months, it's been obvious how down he's been. He really loves Shelly," she said with concern. I paused and looked at Jay Jo again.
He frowned when he noticed me staring, so I quickly looked away.
"She'll come back," I said to reassure her. I can't believe I had a crush on a guy who was Scott's boyfriend.
"YUNA, MY LOVE! CHEER FOR ME IN FRONT OF DEMITRA, OKAY? SO SHE KNOWS HOW MUCH YOU LOVE ME!" Dom shouted from afar.
Disgust was written all over Yuna's face. "You're just training. What cheer are you talking about?" she rolled her eyes. Dom pouted like he was being mistreated by his girlfriend. I just grinned. They are really entertaining to watch. Why would Vinny leave this crew?
I saw Mia approach her friend Yuna. I watched them from behind as we walked, carrying my bike. I didn't know where we were going, but I just followed Dom. They seemed to have a specific place for their training.
I was surprised to see Jay walking beside me. He wasn't riding his bike either, but he was already wearing his helmet. I couldn't help but laugh. He looked cute, though. He glanced at me and raised an eyebrow.
"So... Inertia drift is your thing, huh?" I asked, surprising him. "It was impressive, I watched some videos of you racing." I said, looking at the road. I noticed we were falling behind. Dom walked really fast.
He still didn't say anything. He was like a mute.
"I also watched how you lean in." Based on what I saw, it was surprising that he could pull off that move. It wasn't an easy skill; it was dangerous.
"But your slide is a bit risky. Your grip on the bike isn't in the right position."
"What?"
And now he was finally talking.
I smiled at him. "You need to balance your body. The grip of your hand and your body should be opposite so you can slide lower. That's the technique to make the lean-in look better." I explained. I showed him how I held the bike. "And also, this is how you should hold the handlebar."
He looked confused, but then he suddenly got on his bike and tried the position I showed him. His grip still seemed wrong, so I walked over to him. I parked my bike to the side.
"I noticed from the video that this is why you almost fell. You need to widen your elbows." I moved closer and adjusted his elbow.
I narrowed my eyes as I focused on his grip, then reached out to adjust the position of his hand. Just as I lifted my head to explain, I realized he was staring right at me. My eyes widened in surprise when it hit me that I was actually holding his hand! I quickly pulled away, feeling a rush of embarrassment.
"It's fine." he muttered, causing me to feel flustered.
"So yeah. That's how you do it." I cleared my throat before stepping back a little.
He was silent for a moment. He lowered his hands while sitting on the bike. How could he look so hot?
"Did you master it before you did it in the tournament?" I asked, looking at him.
He shook his head. "No..." It was obvious.
My eyes widened. "So you did it without practice?"
"Hmm," he nodded.
"Where did you learn that, by the way?" I asked as I finally sat on my bike.
"I don't know his name." irritation plastered on his face.
"So it's a 'he'? Does he have blonde hair?" I smirked. "It was Owen, right?"
He stiffened when he heard me mention that name. His expression darkened. He seemed shocked that I knew.
"How did you know?"
"Because I'm the one who taught him that move." I said with bitterness in my voice before looking at the road.
He was silent, but I could see the amusement in his eyes. I couldn't blame him. He might be even more surprised if I told him I knew his girlfriend too. I didn't want to mention that because he might ask more questions. I don't really want to talk about them anymore.
"What's your relationship with him?" he asked suddenly.
"Just someone I know." I lied. "Why? Is he your friend?" I asked, but his face darkened even more. He looked so annoyed.
"I'll teach you about Korean after this training." he changed the topic.
"Why so sudden?" I laughed.
He stared at me for a few seconds before looking away. "Your Korean sounds lame."
"What?!"
#windbreaker x reader#windbreaker#windbreaker smut#wooin x reader#joker x reader#vinny hong x reader#dom kang x reader#jay jo x reader#owen knight x reader#sangho choi#sangho x reader#ryohei#windbreaker ryohei#dom kang#windbreaker joker#wooin windbreaker#vinny x reader#vinny hong#owen knight#sangho choi x reader#joker windbreaker#windbreaker joker x reader#wooin windbreaker x reader#windbreaker wooin#windbreaker smau
43 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
addictedgirl1
sunshine
fancyrules
I try to study
jaeda-duh
Jaeda-duh
infosdefrance
Infos de France 🇫🇷
vailuicons
Vailu.