#he Is the reason my friends hate reading my papers
Text
fic pride
Rules: Post your favourite line or passage from as many of your published works as you’d like. Let yourself feel proud of your creations! Tag as many people as you post snippets, so your fellow fic friends can be proud, too.
thank you for the tags @anincompletelist and @firenati0n
(no pressure) pressure tags to : @cha-melodius @whimsymanaged @cricketnationrise @alasse9 @sherryvalli @nocoastposts
reading back at my work has only reminded me how proud and happy i am with the fics i have written, and i hope y’all enjoy them just as much as i do!!
+
stolen glances with a string attached
Henry isn’t completely conscious of the fact that he is borderline stalking now, having been captivated by this man’s beauty. Even with the fair amount of distance between their office windows, Henry could still distinguish the prominent shadows cast on his cheeks from his eyelashes, and the sharp line of his jaw clenching every now and then. His skin seemed to glow exquisitely under the morning sun; looking practically magical against the gray of the city landscape.
That’s when the other man notices Henry, catching him in his trance for a split second before Henry turns his head to look down at the keyboard in front of him. That was close , he thinks to himself before slowly turning his head to look back at the window. And to his misfortune, the man is looking right back at him; his eyes squint, his perfectly sculpted eyebrows furrow, and his face is wearing an expression as if to say caught you.
And he’s not wrong.
Henry’s eyes widen, his body tensing up in sheer humiliation. That’s when he sees a sly smirk make its way to the man’s lips, and it only makes the embarrassment course through his body more rapidly, feeling all the blood rush to his cheeks. The man then spins around in his office chair, reaching for what looks to be a piece of paper and a pen. He scribbles on it for a swift moment before pressing the paper up against his office window.
The paper reads, “TAKE A PIC,” written in sloppy, bubble-like handwriting just barely legible enough for Henry to read.
The man grabs another paper and writes for a moment longer, this time reading, “JK” with a winky face. Henry cocks an inquisitive eyebrow in his direction, the embarrassment slowly morphing into curiosity as the man turns the paper over for Henry to read the other side.
“ALEX.”
+
your body comes back to me in dreams [nsfw]
He comes back to himself in increments, the places where they’re touching becoming lighter and colder, and his vision softening around the edges. Henry grabs the other man’s shoulder with a vice grip, wanting to laze in the gratification of their love.
He surges forward to kiss him again, desperate to feel the warmth of his body, but he feels almost nothing. Henry pulls away resentfully, in search of brown eyes that bear unwavering devotion—but they’re gone, replaced by nothing, and he is faced with the iciness of the man’s absence.
+
i became your device to name and soothe
June blushes violently and whispers, “It’s not the same when I do it to myself.”
The air is eerily silent for a beat, and June hates everything that is coming out of her mouth right now.
Nora’s face goes almost stoic, serious, but the sparkle of interest in her eyes never falters. “Tell me why.”
“What?”
“Tell me why it isn’t the same.”
June stares back at her staggered, at a complete loss of what to say, or how to say it. June has never had to explain the reasoning behind why she likes spanking. Hell, she’s never really thought about it in depth herself. Knowing that it brings her euphoric pleasure is enough acknowledgement for her.
“Well… I guess it has to do with the attention and— uh, being taken care of is part of it, too.” She chews on her lips subconsciously, looking down at her lap.
“I see,” Nora trails off, thinking deliberately before saying: “I can help you. Only if you’re comfortable with that of course.” Nora places her hand on June’s knee, it’s a comforting sentiment more than anything, and June realizes that she really does mean to help. Not in the exact way June wishes she would, but she’ll take what she can get at this point.
“Okay.”
“Really?
“I trust you, Nora.”
“Yeah, of course. I trust you too.”
June tries to swallow down the knot in her throat before speaking again, “It’ll be like, nonsexual, platonic—“
“Like a massage.” Nora’s expression is unreadable, the same face she makes when she’s in the middle of coding a script or calculating how many red bulls her body can tolerate without a wink of sleep in three days. Like a project she’s undoubtedly going to excel at. It makes June squirm in her seat. “I’m not an expert, so you’ll have to give me some… guidance.”
God. What has June gotten herself into?
+
What are the chances? [nsfw]
“This what you wanted?” Nora whispers on her navel, kissing and licking up to the sweat that has begun to form between her breasts. The position of Nora’s fingers remain hooked inside of her, massaging repeatedly at her sweet spot, and June is seeing fucking stars. Her chest pushes into Nora’s face, giving her full permission to abuse them with her mouth.
Instead Nora pulls back, laying her hand flat on June’s chest to settle her back onto the bed again. She gives a light slap to one of her breasts. “How does it feel? You were so desperate for it earlier, huh, baby? So, tell me how it feels.”
June is unable to speak for a moment, her jaw slacked with no sound escaping. Her head is buzzing and her legs are trembling from how much stimulation her body is receiving. “Feels— oh fuck, ” she huffs, “feels so good, Nora. Please, don’t stop.”
Nora unties one of her wrists, still maintaining the consistent rhythm of her hand. Once free, June immediately reaches out to touch her face; running her thumb over Nora’s eyebrow, cheekbones and then her lips, feeling how soft and plump they are. Nora takes that as an invitation to kiss June again, this time with a more deliberate, loving touch—she can taste a bit of herself on Nora’s tongue.
#wordsofhoneydew writes#rwrb#red white and royal blue#alex claremont diaz#prince henry rwrb#firstprince#alex x henry#rwrb fic#rwrb alex#henry fox mountchristen windsor#june claremont diaz#nora x june#nora holleran#junora#red white and royal blue fanfic#red white & royal blue#rwrb fic recs#rwrb fanfic#rwrbsource
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
Housewife
Part - 1
Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?
Pairing: Poly! ghostface x fem!reader
Warnings for this series: murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating,
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19
"Do you have anything you'd like to tell us about yourself?" You hated this. First days were known to be horrible for a reason. Why on earth would you want to tell a room full of strangers some random fact about you? They don't care if you have a pet nor do they want to know why you're here. The room was dead silent waiting for you to hurry up and sit down. "Umm-"
"What's your cup size?" A boy asked making the other kids in the class snicker. The dark-haired boy next to him smiled shaking his head in disapproval. "Steven I'm not doing this with you today, out." Steven groaned already grabbing his books. "But miss-" With a stern point of the finger she spoke again. "Out!" The class once again fell silent and you couldn't possibly feel more uncomfortable. You've done nothing wrong yet within 5 minutes you feel everyone staring at you with disdain.
Once the door closed behind Steven the teacher spoke again. "I'm terribly sorry Y/n. Just take Steven's spot for today and we'll figure the rest out tomorrow." A simple nod was all you could muster. All you had was a pencil in your hand and a bright yellow notebook sitting on top of your new desk. You closed your eyes trying to fast-forward time. This was the last class of the day and it could honestly not be worse. "Don't worry about him he's a dick." The note on your desk read. The boy to your left looked at you then the paper wanting you to send the note back.
With a quick scribble, you handed him the paper. A huffed laugh left his lips as he read "You are what you eat." The note was then crumpled and shoved into his pocket. That seemed to be the end of your conversation with the stranger but you pushed further. Leaning to the side you whisper, "What's your name?" Instead of saying anything he opened up his notebook. The black and white cover was scuffed showing obvious signs of use. He lifted the book showing you the inside. With a single word written in big letters. 'Billy.'
The class went on, no more pleasantries being exchanged. The bell rang signaling the tiring day was over. You were going to say something else to Billy but he was up and gone by the time you looked up. "So much for that." You mumbled as you got up. The movies always showed the new girl getting all the attention. Everyone tries to quickly mold her into their cult-like clique. Maybe it was the dress you were wearing or the way you wore your hair that made you look like a prude. Growing up with your grandparents sets you up for a life of social isolation.
The parking lot was crowded but not crowded enough to not see your bright red car. Just as visible was the short-haired boy sitting on the hood. "Get off my car." You scolded flatly. "Holy shit this is yours!? How'd you get it?" He asked bouncing with joy. "It's my dad's so I don't want you sitting on it. Thanks." You tossed your bags in the car as he continued talking. Just a second ago you were praying Billy would keep up some conversation. Now you're wanting nothing more than to get home. "Man look it's Christine!" He shouted as the girl next to him covered her ears. "Is he always this loud?" She laughed at the question shaking her head up and down. "Unfortunately. I'm Tatum, so you're the new girl everyone's talking about?"
A puzzled look fell over your features. "Who's talking about me?" Before she could answer Billy walks up to the car. "This is nice." His blabbering friend seems disappointed with that answer. "Nice? It's fucking awesome! Can we ride in it?" He turns to beg you. Billy looked over at you raising his eyebrows in silent confusion. "I don't even know you." What part of 'dads' car did he not understand? "I'm Stu, this is Billy."
"We've met." Billy says gesturing towards you. "it's nice to meet you Stu but I don't give rides to strangers." He walks over throwing his arm over your shoulder. Way too much physical contact from someone you don't know. "Well you know my friend Billy and now you know me. I'd say we're all friends here." Tatum rolls her eyes at her friend's antics. "If you two are going to harass this poor woman I'm leaving. I've got to catch up with Sydney. See ya, babe." She blew a kiss at Stu which he caught.
"Pleaseeeee." He begged. Just as Billy was about to intervene you agreed. "Fine but no food, drink, cigarettes, or really anything that could mess up this car. Got it?" You laid out the rules as you climbed into the driver's seat. Stu bit his lip nodding his head. "Yes ma'am. Come on man." Stu said as he jumped in the car. Billy stood awkwardly looking down at his feet. His eyes nervously looked around almost like he was late for something. "Go without me I've got some errands to run." Stu stuck his head out of the window. You tapped the steering wheel impatiently. "Come on man Christine is like your favorite movie." At this, Billy laughed.
"No, I think you're confusing things. A murderous car is definitely more your speed." At this point, you regretted saying yes to Stu. "Please come with us I don't trust him." Stu covered his heart in fake hurt. "If you should be worried about anybody you should worry about Billy." You seriously doubted that. Sure he was quiet and a little unnerving but he might just be shy. "Fuck it." His hands smack his thighs in defeat. Stu loudly rejoices at his friend's surrender. "Get in the back."
You figured Stu would put up a fight considering he was there first. Yet he opened the door with sad eyes and quietly got into the back. It was strange. You weren't sure how long these two had been friends but it was an odd dynamic. "Why do you get to sit next to her?" Stu whined from the back seat. "Because she doesn't trust you." A laugh forced its way from your throat. "Who said I trusted you? According to him, I should be careful around you." You pointed to the man in the back who gladly smiled. Billy propped his arm on the window shaking his head slightly. "I'm sorry but dressed like that you need to be careful with everyone."
"Gotta agree with him on that. You look like Betty Crocker." Stu leaned his head on the seat between you and Billy. "Don't get me wrong it's kinda sexy but still very grandma." With a roll of your eyes, you started the car, hearing the engine purr to life. The boy next to you cracked such a small smile you'd have to catch it on camera for proof that it happened. "This is amazing! I fucking love you, Betty Crocker." Stu kissed you on the cheek making your nose crinkle. At that, Billy actually laughed. Nothing too dramatic though. "Ew can you not touch me at all? Jesus Christ." With one hand on the wheel, you took the other to wipe your cheek.
"Now you see what I put up with," Billy adds. "Oh, so you kiss him too huh?" You drove out of the parking lot heading to the main road. "Only on weekends." Stu shrugged. You giggled but Billy didn't seem to find anything funny. "So what brings you to this hell hole?" He asks still keeping his eyes out the window. "Me and my moved into my grandparent's house after they passed. He found a good job here too so ta-da here I am" Stu leaned forward to press buttons on the dash which you promptly swatted his hand away. "What is your deal with this car?"
Stu seemed shocked you had to even ask. "It's Christine baby! The man-eating car." You blinked a few times a little confused. "You know the John Carpenter film? Came out in 1983. Same guy that directed Halloween with Michael Myers." Billy seemed interested in this conversation more so than others. His whole body seem to turn towards you actively listening to anything you had to say. "Of course, I know Halloween I've just not seen Christine." It was Billy's turn to pick at you. "You're telling me you've never seen Christine but you've got the car?"
He must be brain-dead to think you got a car based on a movie. "This is a 58' Plymouth. It is way older than the Christine movie. I've got the original if you ask me." Stu looked like he was adding numbers to fact-check your math. Billy on the other hand had the same stoic expression on his face. His eyes dragged up and down you seemingly trying to figure out something. "Say where do you two live?" Stu gave out directions to his house without hesitation. "You can just drop me off at his place." You nod in Billy's direction as you focus on the road.
"Why do you dress like this?" Billy picks at the fabric of your dress. It seems no one in this town knows what personal boundaries are. But you guess it beats the awkwardness of a new friendship. With these two it's like you jumped ahead. "I like it." Plain and simple. Billy wasn't buying it either was Stu. "It's more than just that. You know people look at you differently do you get off on that sort of thing?" The question was rude. If you had a backbone of any sort you throw him out of the moving car. Being a people pleaser however made you give him an honest answer. "Maybe. Do I notice when people look at me hatefully? Duh. But at the end of the day, I'm happy they looked at me at all. I mean you both look like every other teenage boy out there. You don't want to stand out?"
Stu liked your answer it was honestly one he could relate to. "No, we like to blend in." That was all Billy said. It was a change from the chattiness before. "Well, what about you Stu?" Billy turned to look back at the boy. Meanwhile he was happy at being included. When it was just him with some girls he could say whatever he felt like. When Billy was around things were different. Just with his eyes he could tell Stu what and what not to say. He didn't mind of course he loved Billy more than he would ever know really. Plus he knew his personality could be a lot for new people. It was nice to have someone to let him know when enough was enough.
"Like he said we like to blend in. We're not big attention whores." He laughed. You don't think the comment was aimed at you but you couldn't help but feel a little hurt by it. "What's your name?" Stu asked while he lay down in the back seat. "Y/n." Billy once again needed more of an answer. "Y/n what?" He was looking for a last name. "Wouldn't you like to know?" Stu's eyes shot back and forth between you two. "I would. That's why I asked."
"Well, you ask too many questions. Unless you're looking to change my last name I don't know why you'd need to know." Billy wasn't mad. Aggravated sure but not mad. You were smart. Not smart enough to tell two psychos to fuck off but smart enough to not hand out personal information easily. He'd have to work for it which he loved to do. "Is your place down this road Stu?" The boy perked up. A little sad that the ride was over. "Yeah just go on down."
"What are you doing this weekend?" Billy asked seeing his window of opportunity was closing. "Nothing much why?" More boring and cryptic answers. "We should come over to your place this weekend seeing as nothing's going on." Billy looked at his friend for backup. "Absolutely! I could bring a copy of Christine and we could get mad wasted!" Billy closed his eyes regretting asking him for anything. "I don't drink. Never had a reason to."
"Well, Ms. Crocker I'm giving you one." Unfortunately for these two you had self-preservation skills. Getting drunk with two men you don't know at your house is not smart. They act like you haven't seen any scary movies. "I'm not getting drunk with you two. I'll think about hanging out this weekend but no drinking. My dad would kill me if he knew I had two dudes in the house let alone drunk dudes." Billy could work with that. Stu was practically jumping at the idea to hang with you. For once he didn't have ulterior motives. He couldn't say the same for his friend who had that gleam in his eye he's seen before.
You pulled into the driveway saying goodbye to your new friends. "See you at school tomorrow?" Billy asked knowing the seat you occupied today would be permanently vacant so you could stay next to him. "Unfortunately. Bye, losers." You waved at the guys ready to get the hell home. The boys watched as you pulled away, the bright red car was easy to follow down the road. "What do you think about her?" Billy asked his friend. "She's alright man. Needs better taste in movies but I can fix that." Billy agreed but something just wasn't sitting right with him. In one day you managed to weasel your way into their lives. He wasn't sure if he wanted to watch movies with you or make you the star of one.
Part 2
A/N: I've been writing for about 5 years now but I'm new to the Scream fandom. I just recently watched the first movie and I can't seem to get these two out of my head so feedback is greatly appreciated! See ya lovelies 💞
#scream#scream 1996#ghostface#poly!ghostface#billy loomis#stu macher#billy loomis x reader#stu macher x reader#scream fanfic#scream fanfiction#scream x reader#ghostface x reader#housewife#x reader#slashers#slasher x reader#horror
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
glad I crashed the wedding // oscar piastri
summary: she needed a wedding date. he wanted a reason to spend time with her. but of course, the inn only has one bed, and oscar makes her feel alive in a way she's never felt before.
pairing: oscar piastri x female! reader
warnings: sexual tension, one bed trope, difficult sister relationship (though they love each other very very much), eventual smut, fake dating (I’ve been reading too much Ana Huang lately)
“so let me get this straight,” she began, swirling the coconut-mango-pineapple icy drink in her hand, leaning back against the photocopier. “you, the great oscar piastri, wants to come home with me to be my date for my sisters wedding, and you don’t want anything in return?”
oscar nodded, a wide grin on his face as the copy machine continued to churn out waivers for the hot lap guests to sign. “that’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“but why?”
oscar shrugged, trying to come up with a convincing lie. “because I’m your friend. and this is what friends do.”
y/n sighed, sipping her drink before turning away from the driver. keeping eye contact was dangerous when it was with oscar piastri. when it was with the man who set her nerve endings on fire, who made her stomach churn like the rising tide with a gesture as small as a wave, or an offer to buy her a drink.
who had an accent that made her core throb, soaking her panties right through when she thought about how his voice would sound in her ear if he was whispering some less-than-holy things to her.
“I don’t want to subject you to the insanity. you might not want to be friends after you meet my family. we can’t even be in the same room sometimes, it’s like dropping a match onto a pile of dry leaves.”
oscar laughed and she tried to ignore the shivers the sound sent up her spine, the rising goose flesh on her arms as she counted the waivers, having to start the count over again more than a few times.
“I’m sure they’re not that bad.” oscar reasoned, taking the file folder from her, insisting on lightening her load. “I just want you to feel at ease.”
she rolled her eyes, grabbing her drink as she started to walk out of the motorhome. “I’ve been living in delias shadow since I was fourteen. she’s a well respected medical professional; and I went to a three year college. everything she does is perfect. hell, she’s getting married this weekend and here I am, convincing myself that letting you tag along is a good idea so I don’t look like I’m going to die alone.”
it’s not like she wasn’t successful. she was a part of the legal team for one one of the biggest racing names in the world. when Oscar’s contract dispute started, she had been the one who served otmar his papers (and to this day, saying the words “otmar szafanuer you have been served, see you in court” was still one of the finest moments of her career).
it’s just that delia always brought out the worst in her, every insecurity, every flaw she hated about herself. their childhood has been fraught with insecurity and competition.
she sighed, leaning against one of the paddocks scratchy palm trees, bark digging into the skin on her arms. oscar was still trying to plead his case, and she wondered why she was fighting it.
this is what she wanted, wasn’t it? oscar on her arm, making her feel like she was wanted, loved, even?
she took another sip of her drink before she spoke again.
“we’ll probably have to share a hotel room, and my dad might threaten you with his antique saw collection. you’ll also have to stop me from killing delia with my bare hands before the big day.”
oscar chuckled, handing back her file folder. “I think I can handle that.”
that goddamn smile. that’s where it all started, when she first started to think about his lips on hers, his hands in her hair, his mouth wrapped around her nipples.
why on earth was she agreeing to this?
“you’d better be up bright and early tomorrow. it’s a long flight and my dad is meeting us at the airport. as far as everyone knows, I’m not bringing a date.”
the feeling of his hand against the small of her back burned into her skin. she could feel his body heat through the thick fabric of her papaya golf shirt as he started guiding her towards the garage where the hot laps were being conducted.
“oscar, what are you doing?”
he grinned at her, baring his pearl-white teeth, in their slightly uneven top row. “if we’re going to convince your dad that we’re together, we’d better start practicing.”
god, this man was going to be the death of her.
————
she regretted inviting oscar along the second they got off the plane.
from the moment they passed through airport security, it was as if a switch had been flicked in her brain, converting him from the serious, driven race car driver she met at the track, to a man straight out of the romance book she had been listening to on the flight. his hand was rooted to her back protectively, and he wouldn't let her carry any of her luggage on her own.
she could get used to this, she thought, watching his t-shirt ride up over his defined abs as he reached into the overhead cabin to pull down her two small suitcases.
they walked peacefully through the terminal, oscar pushing the baggage cart with one hand, his free arm looped over her shoulder.
"you know you don't have to act like my boyfriend until we see my father, right?" she said hesitantly, running a thumb over his knuckles. "my feelings won't get hurt if you don't want to pretend when nobody else is around.
oscar acted like he was about to say something, but he was cut off by a shout across the airport.
"y/n!" the voice shouted. "there's my girl!"
"dad!" she shouted, breaking away from oscar's side to launch herself into her father's arms. the constant travel that came with working in formula one took it's toll, and she didn't get to see her father as often as she liked. she'd had to move to england to work with mclaren, and her family had stayed behind.
she never said she loved that part of her job, but a little space away from her family often made her appreciate them a little more.
"dad, i want you to meet someone." she started, waving at oscar, who lumbered over with the weighed-down baggage cart. "this is my boyfriend, oscar." despite the lie, and how foreign the words were, saying them almost felt right.
my boyfriend oscar.
"i'm carl, nice to meet you." her father said, his voice a slight bit more gentle than his usual grunt.
oscar shook carl's hand, a bit of weariness on his face as he slipped his smooth, dainty hand inside carl's larger, more calloused one. "nice to meet you, sir."
carl raised an eyebrow. "australian? you'd better not be giving my daughter any of those australian kisses."
"dad, what the hell!?" she whined, hiding her face behind her hands as a blush began to coat her cheeks. if there was one thing she definitely was not getting from oscar piastri, it was australian kisses.
oscar thought she was cute when she was flustered. it was such a shame it took him an hot minute to figure out why.
australian kisses are like french kisses, just down under. it was mark who had said it to him first, in an attempt to be funny. as the meaning set in for oscar, he found himself silently cursing mark webber.
but it didn't mean he didn't get half-hard thinking about having his head between y/n's thighs.
________
"you've got to be shitting me."
she knew they would be sharing a bedroom. all of the plus ones were rooming in the chic, trendy motel with the guests who had invited them. and that would have been fine.
except that this hotel only had a queen bed, done up with plush white sheets and a small turquoise blanket draped over the bottom half.
a queen bed that she would have to share with a man that she wished would fuck her brains out.
"i can call the main office if you want." oscar suggested softly, reaching for the door handle. "i can see if they have another room, or they could bring a cot in for me?"
she sighed, raking her hair over her head as she looked around the room. "don't bother. the motel only has fifteen rooms, and it's booked solid for delia's wedding, between her bridal party and the fiancée's family, i doubt they'd even really have a cot. we can manage, right?"
oscar nodded, hands buried deep in his sweatpant pockets. damn those gray sweats.
"we can make a towel barrier, and the bed is more than big enough for both of us. hell, we could probably have a threesome on that bed and still have space."
did oscar piastri not have a single drop of shame?
she shook her head, trying to forget the thought of a half-naked oscar hovering over her, whispering things in her ear. she made a grab for her suitcase placing it on the bed and grabbing a handful of clothes and a travel bath and body works bottle.
"i'm going for a shower, can we talk about this afterwards? i'm jet lagged and i really just want to sleep."
"sure." oscar shrugged, spreading hismelf out on the bed, arms over his head so that his shirt once again showed off his stunning lower torso.
she tried to stop herself from staring at the happy trail dipping under oscar's waistband, but she failed miserably, her eyes following the small trail of hair down to the waistband of his jack and jones boxers, to the impressive lump underneath his jeans.
if his cock was that big when it was soft, how would it feel when it was hard, throbbing and inside of her. just the mere thought was making heat grow between her legs-
nope. we're not going there today.
she squeaked out some kind of muffled statement, clutching her clothes to her chest and making a mad dash towards the bathroom door. a cold shower should fix this, right?
when oscar heard the shower turn on, the music clicking on soon after, he sat up on the bed, rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes. he knew he should shower as well, but the fatigue of air travel was beginning to set in. a small nap wouldn't hurt, right?
he got up from the bed, socked feet sliding against the laminate floor as he reached for the wheels on the bottom of y/n's suitcase. all he needed to do was close the suitcase, move it out of the way, close his eyes, and then drift of into a peaceful slumber.
all he had to do was hope that he didn't wake up hard, or moan her name in his sleep. it should be easy, right?
wrong. the suitcase slipped out of his grip, almost sliding off the bed before he thanked god for his reflexes, stopping the suitcase from hitting the floor, save for a few articles of clothing.
he leaned down picking up the black busted tour shirt and denim shorts, his breath catching in his throat when he saw what was resting on the area rug underneath.
it was a mass of bright peach lace, the color so close to the mclaren signature papaya, his heart hammering in his chest as he picked it up and unraveled the halter bralette. he bit back a moan as he stared at the lace and mesh that left very little to the imagination.
he started to think about his mild-mannered co-worker wearing it, her perky nipples pressing against the bright, skimpy fabric.
the mere thought sent all the blood rushing straight to his cock.
god, he was down so bad that it should be criminal.
he shouldn’t be thinking about whispering dirty sweet nothings against her skin, or sucking a hickey into her thigh before he plunges his tongue inside of her.
he shouldn’t be thinking about anything that would make his boner worse.
and that was when he heard the bathroom door open. and there wasn’t enough time to hide the sweat seeping from the pores on his skin, the tent in his sweatpants, or the fact that he was still holding the offending lingerie in his hands.
“it’s not what it looks like!” the driver sputters, turning around to face her, and bitting his lip to stop himself from losing whatever composure he has left.
she’s wearing booty shorts that barely cover her backside, the ass emblazoned with the acronym for the college she attended, her top half covered with a loose-fitting muscle tank sporting a skeleton on a surfboard, the sides of her bare tits just barely visible through the arm holes.
“oscar,” she breathed, voice raspy when she saw the tent pitched in his pants. “do i turn you on?”
“you have since the day I met you.” he admits, dropping the bra and slowly moving closer, hesitantly running his hands down her still-warm sides. “tell me, y/n, do you touch yourself when you think about me?”
“i could ask you the same.” she shot back, her voice wavering as she pressed her hand shakily against oscars clothed cock. “your boyfriend act didn’t feel like an act this morning.”
they shouldn’t be doing this. it was crossing so many lines. but when oscar looked her dead in the eyes and breathed out a single word, all thoughts of self control went out the window.
"yes."
she pressed her lips against his, nipples springing to attention as she pressed her front against his, his hands moving from her sides to squeeze and caress her breasts, her mouth falling open in a moan against his lips. oscar took that chance to slip his tongue inside her mouth, his hands migrating to her hair as he maneuvered their bodies towards the bed.
she took the lead once her back hit the mattress, practically ripping her tank top off and casting it aside, hands making a mad grab for oscar's plain white shirt while he kissed and marked up her neck.
she whimpered under his touch, and would have been embarrassed had she not been so turned on.
"oscar, please." she begged, spreading her thighs as she tried to grind her core against his thigh. "i need you. i need your cock so deep inside me that i can still feel it three days later."
oscar practically growled at the admission, pulling his lips off her right tit. "are you begging for me, pretty girl? do you want me to make you feel good? hm, want me to treat you right?"
"yes." she breathed, tucking a hand underneath his boxers. "please, oscar."
god, his name sounded so sexy rolling off her tongue. he couldn't think straight when she had her slender fingers wrapped around his cock.
"are you sure you want this? because once i have you, i won't let you go. i'll need more."
"i'm sure, oscar. and i'm not just saying that because i think your mild possessiveness is kind of hot."
oscar smiled, a small, imperceptible blush forming on his cheeks. "you think i'm hot."
"since the day i met you." she hummed, sewing her lips to his, her fingers tugging on his hair, a small moan leaving his throat.
"oh, so pretty boy likes it when i tug on his hair." she giggled. "i learn something new every day."
"keep talking like that, and you won't be able to walk in the morning."
"i look forward to it."
oscar looked around, his eyes settling on the mirror hanging opposite the bed, right next to the bathroom door. he felt his dick throb as an idea formed in his head, pulling away from the body lying prone on the bed.
"shorts off, all-fours on the bed facing that mirror." he ordered, trying to keep a gentle tone in his voice as he clambered off the bed, stripping out of his sweatpants and boxers, hard member jutting straight out as her touched himself, trying to find some kind of release from the pressure between his legs.
she shivered at the command before making a show of dropping her shorts to show off the cream coloured cotton thong she was wearing, laughing to herself when oscar's eyes rolled back in his skull, a moan escaping his throat.
"god, you're going to be the death of me, sweetheart."
she couldn't deny the excitement in her bones as she settled herself on the bed, arousal literally dripping down her thighs when she looked in the mirror and saw oscar looking at her, mounting the bed behind her before slapping his cock against her ass.
in a more tender, loving action, oscar leaned over her, pressing a kiss to the top of her spine.
"you're so pretty." he whispered, the compliment sinking into her skin like tattoo ink before he sunk into her, gripping her hips and closing his eyes to try and show some restraint as she got used to his size.
it was a sinful picture in that motel room mirror as he began to rut into her, watching her tits shake in the mirror, listening to her sweet whimpers and whines and pleads for more.
"god, yes, oscar! feels so-so fucking good, oh my god."
he met her eyes in the mirror, sweat running down his chest and dripping onto her back as he kept thrusting, the same relentless pace. "you're so good for me, pretty girl. so stunning, so sexy with my cock inside you like this. god, you're prefect. perfectly mine."
he practically growled the last word, knowing damn well that he was ruined for any other woman.
-------
they woke up in a tangled heap of limbs, not knowing where one body ended and the other began, lazily exchanging kisses as the sun rose outside.
"oscar, we have to go to the rehearsal." she whined as he kissed her neck. "if we're late, i'm never going to hear the end of it."
"don't care." oscar hums, running his hands up and down her sides. "i would gladly stay in bed with you all day and order room service so we don't ever have to leave."
"osc." she warned, sitting up in the bed and pulling the duvet over her chest. "we're going to the rehearsal. i'm a bridesmaid, remember?"
fifteen minutes later, oscar was in the bathroom steam-cleaning the wrinkles out of his suit while she tried on the bridesmaid dress, caramel fabric falling over her skin as she stared at herself in the mirror.
the same mirror where, just twelve hours before, she had watched oscar piastri fuck her brains out.
she felt heat on her hips, and didn't even need to look up to realize that it was oscars hands, gently caressing her skin through the satin. he gently kissed her shoulder blades, his hands moving to do up the zipper she couldn't quite reach.
"you look beautiful." he hummed, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. "you deserve better than me."
she giggled softly, tugging his arms away from her hips and around her waist, sinking back into his arms. "no i don't. you're exactly what i want, oscar. you're funny and you're sweet and you make me feel like the best version of myself. you're also really great in bed."
oscar laughed, kissing her softly. he would never get tired of feeling her lips against his. "the boyfriend stuff was never an act. and i volunteered to come with you this weekend because i wanted to get to know you off the track. who you are when you aren't serving legal papers to team principals."
"i only did that once. i missed out on the chance to fight with chip ganassi since arrow has a different legal team." she laughed. "i really like you, oscar."
"and i really like you too, y/n. my perfect, beautiful girl."
-------
the wedding came and went, marking the end of y/n and oscar's dream weekend, the reminder that very soon, they would all be going back to their real lives.
that she and oscar would need to figure out where they stood with each other.
but she didn't want to think about that. not while she was dancing with her sister, the pair of them finally getting along as they screeched the words to an old tove lo song.
oscar watched from the table, sitting next to y/n's mother and making polite conversation as his lovesick eyes found her under the disco lights.
"someone is feeling lovesick tonight." mrs. y/l/n hummed. "we heard you two last night. the motel walls aren't as thick as you think."
oscar blanched, coughing on his drink. "you heard all that?"
y/n's mom laughed. "her father had to leave the room and get a coffee before he walked in there and strangled you. y/n is always going to be his little girl. but she's growing up, and i think if she has you in her life, she'll be okay. you're good together."
oscar was about to say something else when a shout rang through the room. "delia is doing the bouquet toss!"
all of the members of each wedding party gathered in the middle of the floor, y/n's sister standing on the dj stand, her white dress brushing against the floor and picking up specs of dust and dirt, as she lifted the bouquet over her head.
y/n mother rested her hand on oscar's forearm, staring at him with a knowing look, hoping her other daughter would be the next to tie the knot.
sure enough, it was almost like fate as the boquet of white roses soared into the air, nailing y/n right in the face and tumbling into her arms as the other bridesmaids cheered. her face was pink and she was trying to hide behind the bouqet as delia came to pull her into a hug.
"i love you, sis. and i'm sorry i didn't know how to show it when we were younger." delia gushed, kissing her baby sister on the forehead before nodding her head at oscar. "you've got a good one. don't let him get away."
"i won't." she laughed, wiping at the tears threatening to fall down her cheeks. "i love you, deels."
the song changed, a slow kesha ballad humming through the speakers as the singer crooned about her old flame, and how they couldn't hold a candle to her current love. she turned away from her sister, who had just gone to find her new spouse to dance with, only to see oscar, looking dapper in his black suit and bowtie.
"can i have this dance, my love?"
she smiled, leaving her bouquet with her mother before stepping into oscar's arms, wishing for nothing more than to wrap herself around him like a woolen sweater. she rested her head against his chest, allowing herself to fall into him while they swayed to the music, his lips pressing a kiss to her forehead as dolly parton began to sing the second half of the song.
man, she could really get used to this.
get used to oscar.
TAGS:
@magnummagnussen @httpiastri @sidcrosbyspuck @scuderiamh @silverstonesainz @lorarri @love4lando @thatsdemko @diorleclerc
#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#the cozy collection 2023#formula 1 x reader#formula one x reader#oscar piastri x y/n#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#Spotify
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
"Oh, so we DO love Steve..." | PART I
Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader
enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+
WHEN THE UNEXPECTED NIECE OF MURRAY BAUMAN GETS THROWN IN THE MIX, THE GANG HAS NO IDEA JUST WHAT THEY'RE IN FOR. SCRATCH THAT - STEVE DOESN'T KNOW. YOU GET ALONG WITH EVERYONE WELL. YOU BANTER WITH THE ADULTS, WHO APPRECIATE YOUR HELP. THE KIDS LOVE AND WORSHIP YOU. YOU'RE HELPFUL ALL AROUND. BUT AS FAR AS STEVE IS CONCERNED, YOU'RE JUST NUISANCE. AFTER ALL, YOU'RE THE REASON HE LOST THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE AND MISSED OUT ON A LIFE THAT "COULD'VE BEEN." IF YOU HAD JUST KEPT YOUR SORRY ASS OUT OF THE PICTURE... IF YOU HAD NEVER GONE WITH NANCY AND JONATHAN AFTER THEY LEFT YOUR WHACK-JOB UNCLE, MURRAY BAUMAN'S, BUNKER? HE WOULD BE HAPPY. SO F*CKING HAPPY. BUT HERE YOU WERE. YOU WERE BASICALLY THE COOLER (...AND SURE, MUCH MORE ATTRACTIVE) FEMALE VERSION OF MURRAY BAUMAN. YOU WERE SARCASTIC, QUICK-WITTED, TOO SMART FOR YOUR OWN GOOD, AND APPARENTLY BUILT FOR THE WAR. SURE, YOU WEREN'T AS BRASH AS YOUR UNCLE. BUT IN STEVE'S EYES, YOU WERE SOMEHOW FAR MORE OBNOXIOUS. HE DOWNRIGHT HATED YOU. HE WILL FOREVER HATE YOU... BUT WILL HE?
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE COPIED AND/OR REPOSTED ON HERE OR ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR PUT INTO ANY AI PROGRAMS. THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG, MDNI.
An original fanfiction series, written by Misha St. James.
⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SERIES MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
***************************************
I did not proof-read this after Tumblr gave me hell trying to share. So pls excuse possible typos. hehe
***************************************
Let's just get to the point, shall we?
Once upon a time, a young boy named Will Byers went missing. Later, he was found in an alternate dimension by the world's #1 mom and a cynical cop turned hero. A girl with a shaved head had telekinetic superpowers, befriend's Will's four loyal friends along the way and helping them track down their missing party member. Then, whatever the hell was on the other side - whatever was in this...upside down...took back Eleven. She'd been missing ever since that dreadful winter.
Fast forward to now: you're sitting in your uncle's bunker, looking at his wild display of efforts. Papers, files, whiteboards covered in multiple words, arrows, sketches - all in different colored markers. Murray Bauman was on a mission, and he would be damned if that grumpy, cynical smart-ass known as Jim Hopper honestly thought that he could dismantle his efforts. Nice try, chum. Game on.
Thankfully, you'd gone to school with Barbara Holland. That's whose parents had assigned the task of searching for her to your uncle. Murray was asking you tons of questions, and you were glad to help. It meant spending time with the only family member you cared for, despite his wackiness. You guys got each other. Bantered well. Got shit done. Honestly, it was also a great way of drinking safely and not with a bunch of rowdy teenagers at some stupid party. You got along just fine with everyone at school. But damn, they could all be annoying.
...especially Steve fucking Harrington, who was now the topic of conversation. You know, given that his house is where Barbara was last seen.
"It just isn't making sense," your uncle huffed, raking his hands through his oily dark hair.
You sipped on the glass of vodka that your uncle had poured you, hissing at the strong taste. Leaning across the coffee table, seated on his couch, you tried to connect the dots with him. "I'm telling you, someone in that group of teens knows what's up. Or at least has an idea."
Your uncle swigged at his vodka, defeated but ruthlessly trying to piece together his clusterfuck of scattered evidence across his wall. "Well then, guess we better grill 'em."
And that's how you come into the picture. When Nancy and Jonathan came to seek out Murray. And when they arrive, they're surprised to see you. They recognize you from school. Jonathan took several classes with you. In fact, the two of you got along well at Hawkins High. No, you weren't close. But you both were cool. Nancy, on the other hand, didn't know anything about you. Just that you took political science with Barbara, and got straight A's across the board. You could've been class valedictorian. But you were not looking for any sort of title that demanded pressure or attention. At least not in high school. Career wise? Sure. Not here, though. Not Hawkins.
"Your timeline is wrong," Nancy is saying, making you and Bauman freeze.
Nancy is telling you that the girl with the buzzed hair is not Russian. She is, in fact, from Hawkins lab. And her name is...Eleven?
So they do know something. And something turns out to be everything.
Jonathan sits you both down to relay everything to you both. And woof, does it give you guys a headache. Strangely, though... it makes a whole lot more sense than some mundane explanation of sorts. Obviously though, that puts you all in a tough spot where you'll all need to put your heads together. So the two classmates of yours stay, sharing in chilled Smirnoff and having to endure the hilarity that ensues between you and your uncle.
You and Murray both banter well with the two of them. Jonathan finds you to be hilarious. Nancy finds you intimidating. Very intimidating. You’re quick witted, darkly humored and independent. But there is a reserved, mysterious sort of feminine energy to you, despite your more masculine strengths and bluntness.
Over glasses of stiff vodka, you all come to the conclusion on how to go about exposing the truth about Barbara Holland's disappearance: water it down.
At the end of the night, you're all winding down -- you and your uncle having convinced the two lovebirds to stay. But when you're telling them they can take your uncle's guest room while you take the couch, Jonathan's asking if he can take the couch. You blink. Huh?
...surely Nancy is not still with --
"Okay, I'm confused," your uncle's saying. "What's going on here? Lovers quarrel?"
You cock an eyebrow, leaning back into the loveseat.
But Jonathan and Nancy are then talking over each other with weird, flustered excuses...saying they're just friends.
You and your uncle bust out laughing. And then you're shrinking back in your seat, knowing what's coming: one of your Uncle Murray's lovebird witchdoctor speeches that he barrels into anytime that two delusional people have convinced themselves that they aren't in love. Or at the very least, not into each other.
Uncle Murray is breaking them down, one at a time. He's reading Jonathan like an angsty teen novel, seeing right through him and his brooding, mysterious energy. Trust issues, thanks to daddy issues. Yikes, that makes you sip some more drink.
And then he's onto Nancy, saying that she's harder to read. But he manages anyway. It's the Bauman way.
He's telling her that she's likely like everyone else, "afraid of what would happen if you accepted yourself for you who you really are." He looks at you. "Am I in the right ballpark?"
You nod, swallowing the last drop of vodka in your cup. "That...and afraid of that might happen if she didn't retreat back to the safety of someone familiar."
Nancy looks bewildered. But more than that, she looks caught.
"Name?" your uncle is prodding, snapping his fingers. "Name."
You and Jonathan both say it. "Steve."
Uncle Murray's face is priceless. He feigns adoration, putting on a baby voice as he repeats the name. "Dawh. Steve. We like Steve."
"Yes," Nancy laughs nervously. Eek, you think.
"But we don't love Steve..." Your uncle's words floor Nancy.
And when Nancy's saying something about still being with Steve, insisting that she loves him, you roll your eyes. Even scoffing, getting her attention. Maybe if the vodka weren't in your system, you wouldn't be so bold. But Jonathan's mopey look just gives you more confidence.
"Boom, ladies and gents," you say with a grin. "Second lie of the evening."
"The hell was the first one?" Jonathan asks, blinking.
"You guys being just friends." You and your uncle say something along the same lines, simultaneously. You both laugh together, clinking glasses. The two not lovebirds just squirm awkwardly in their seats.
Finally, you sigh. "Look. You guys don't wanna give up the ghost? Be my guest. I'll happily keep my bed." You stand up, ready to turn in. But not until casting them one last work, pointing a finger. "But if I were you two? I'd cut the bullshit and just share the damn bed."
Murray snorts, rising to stand as well. He stretches. "Welllllp. I'm turning in for the night."
You begin mounting the stairs, hollering: "Better act fast, kiddos. At least before this poison in my system knocks me out cold. Don't worry, Nancy, I don't snore. So if you do choose me, you're safe."
"But that's so lame," Murray adds to that wryly, heading off to his room. You both tell each other goodnight, leaving the two angsty teens to decide their fate.
All you know is that Nancy ends up walking out and not coming back, at one point in the night. Yeah, thought so.
Breakfast the next morning is even more hilarious. You and your uncle ask every single question that drips with innuendo that you ever possibly could. And it's worth every fucking minute.
Murray's gonna need to keep that couch cleaned.
To your surprise, Murray sends you off with Nancy and Jonathan, but given that you want to go and see it all for yourself you don't mind. You’re basically his little spy.
Most uncles send off their nieces and nephews with some good advice, maybe a packed lunchbox or snacks, and a warm hug.
Yours, however, sends you off with a full bottle of vodka, a thick wad of cash and some fun sarcastic banter. But he headlocks you in for a hug, and you cackle. He really is a nutcase, and man you can't help but love him. He is so not the parental type. Yet somehow, he's practically raised you. And in your opinion, you're pretty well-prepared for the world. More than most, in Murray's opinion.
So off you go with Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Buyers, and they both honestly enjoy your company. It helps them get past their umm...well...awkward new reality. That new reality that comes post-sex, after a long ass time of playing the tip-toe game. The sexual tension between them is hysterical to you. But you keep your thoughts to yourself for now. The vodka did most of the talking for you last night.
When you both arrive at wherever the hell your destination is, it's dark outside. And if you're being honest, it's pretty creepy. You're somewhere near the woods, and as you all walk closer you're beginning to see lights approaching you...along with a handful of shadowed figures.
Fuck, you literally just got here.
But then, after a tense several moments... Nancy and Jonathan call out to them. You jump, startled at the fact that they do it so confidently. But the name that they call out suddenly makes it all make sense.
"STEVE?"
"NANCY...?"
And that's how you became a crucial part of the most royal pain in the ass, King Steve's, life.
#steve harrington angst#steve harrington#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington stranger things#steve harrington smut
471 notes
·
View notes
Text
paper rings !!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which she would say yes, even with paper rings.
or
for when you're certain that they're your person. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚
social media au irl // lewis hamilton x fem!reader
warnings - language
author's note - one of the cutest things i have ever written, loved this request!! i hope you like it, i love you, thank you for reading <3
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
liked by lewishamilton, yourbestfriend, lilymhe and 729,926 others
yourusername best believe i'm still bejeweled
7,718 comments
username MOTHER IS MOTHERING
username just one chance pls 🙏
username im so norma abt her hahahaha!! SO normal abt losing my wife to a man that goes vroom vroom in circles!!
lewishamilton the most beautiful ❤️
-> yourusername thank u baby ❤️
lewishamilton can't believe how lucky i am
-> yourusername that's all me
-> username i NEED what these bitches have
username she's not wearing her engagement ring question mark
lilymhe girlfriend 💌
-> yourusername girlfriend 💌
username the ring ⁉️⁉️⁉️
username she ate so hard they named the restaurant after her
username she's not wearing her ring ://
≡;- ꒰ °real life ꒱
"hey, baby."
"hey," lewis mumbled, not sparing y/n a single glance as he continued to watch a random episode of modern family.
"how was your night?" y/n continued to make conversation with him, removing her high heels and discarding her handbag. she walked towards where he was at and kissed the top of his head before petting roscoe a few times. "sorry, there was traffic and then i had to drop aaliyah at her boyfriend's place cause she got too drunk to drive."
"'s okay," was all lewis said, making y/n frown as she turned back to look at him. he was still watching the tv, his head thrown back against the back of the couch with roscoe next to him.
"uh — i'll be right back, i need to change," y/n spoke, her confusion only growing as her fiancé gave no reply, not even a slight hum as an indication that he had heard her.
moving towards their bedroom, y/n could feel herself grow more confused, thinking of all of the possible reasons as to why lewis would be so short and distant with her.
maybe he was just having a bad day? maybe he was just tired? was he sick? did i do something? another rumour of me hooking up with my best friend? he found out i broke his favourite vase?
her mind swarming with plausible to way-too-ridiculous reasons, she didn't even notice her changing her own clothes until she was left staring at the heap that was her dress by her feet. picking it up and throwing it on the bed, she made her way towards the living room, hoping that maybe she just imagined it. that it was just ber overthinking mind that over analysed a situation.
"hey," y/n spoke again, walking around to the couch to the front of it. sensing that she wanted to sit here, roscoe stood up and moved a bit, just enough so that y/n could scoot in and then laid back, this time on her. "hey," lewis replied, his eyes flickering to her before he focused again on the show in front of him.
okay so, maybe she didn't imagine it.
"what are we watching?" y/n questioned, scratching behind roscoe's ears, desperate to make a conversation with him, seeing him for the first time since this afternoon.
"modern family," lewis sighed exasperated and as much as y/n hated to admit it, it made her feel like he didn't want her there at the moment. sure, he may have had his reasons but it didn't feel exactly good, noticing that her fiancé didn't wanna be around her at the moment.
as long as she's been with lewis, almost seven years, they've always communicated with each other. from the smallest of things like when y/n told lewis that she hated his choice of carpet for their living room to the biggest and the most important stuff like when lewis talked to y/n about wanting to wait until after they were married to have kids.
and the best thing about this was the other always understood. lewis understood that yeah, bright pink did clash with the warm and pastel tones of their home and y/n did understand that waiting until they were fully settled down was the best option.
and now, watching him not talk to her when there was obviously something bothering him was a bit confusing but still, she knew it was best to give him some space.
"uh — i'll be in the bedroom," y/n spoke, her voice just barely above a whisper and she knew he heard her because of the way his face changed and the way he turned to look at her with the slightest bit of confusion showing in his eyes. "it's been a long night and i just really want to sleep."
"okay," lewis whispered back and gave her a small smile, the most reaction she'd been able to get out of him since she came home.
"good night," y/n stood up, kissing roscoe's on the head before she turned toward lewis, who was watching his with an unreasonable look on his face. "good night, baby, i love you."
she barely heard an 'i love you' back before she was walking away from the couch and towards their bedroom. closing the door behind her, she picked up her dress from the bed and placed it on the chair by the dressing table, making a mental note to take it to the dry cleaners. after looking at herself one more time in the mirror and removing whatever was left of her makeup, she was in bed, covers drawn up to her chest.
y/n didn't know how long she laid there for, moving in and out of sleep. her mind was still stuck on lewis like a broken record, wondering what had happened while she was out. in the midst of her analysis, she didn't hear the footsteps approach the door until the person was right in front of it and the handle twisted and y/n quickly closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep just so he wouldn't question her about what she was doing.
the door opened and closed and the soft patter of footsteps could be heard.
there was silence for a full minute before lewis got in next to her, the sheet rustling. for the first five minutes, he stayed on his own side and y/n had to resist the urge to pull him closer to her, finding it hard to sleep when he was not holding her. then, he turned towards her and y/n had a feeling he was starting at her, finding it harder and harder to not let her expression change. she could feel movement next to her and ruled it out as lewis getting comfortable until a hand moved to lay across her abdomen and pulled her closer.
she heard lewis inhale deeply, his head moving to lay in the crook of her neck. she could feel his warm breath on the exposed part of her collarbone, feeling the goosebumps rise on her skin. she shifted against him, her hand moving to hold him closer.
they stayed like that for what felt like mere minutes, their breathing the only sound in the room along with the ticking of the clock with each passing second. y/n figured lewis fell asleep, with how even his breathing was and she was about to move to get a bit more comfortable when he spoke.
"i'm sorry," his voice was quiet in the room, his thumb tracing circles on her stomach where her tank top had risen up slightly. "for ignoring you, kind of and being distant. i know you don't like it."
"it's okay, lew. i just want you to be able to talk to me, whenever you feel like," y/n assured him, kissing the top of his head.
"it's a stupid thing, really," lewis chuckled half heartedly, his body vibrating against hers. "don't even worry about it."
"i always worry about it when it comes to you, you know that," y/n reminded him, making him look at her. "and it's not stupid if it bothers you. what is it, love?"
"it's just that — " lewis stopped before he could continue, taking a deep breath before speaking again. "you weren't wearing your engagement ring, when you were out with your friends and then that post you posted on your instagram, people took notice of that and they were all like 'why isn't she wearing her ring' and 'did they break up' and there were some hate comments too. i reported them, by the way. and then, i don't know, i just kinda got into too much overthinking and just made myself upset over nothing and i ignored you and you went back when it was so clear you just wanted to talk to me and i feel — "
he was interrupted by a kiss.
y/n kissed in the middle of his rambling, pulling him closer with the front of his t-shirt while one of her hands rested on his cheek. a surprised noise left lewis' mouth before he melted into the kiss, tilting his head so that he could deepen the kiss.
y/n pulled away, making lewis chase her lips once again and she gave him another soft kiss before pulling back fully and looking at him with a soft smile.
"do you not like the ring?" was the first thing that came out of his mouth, making y/n furrow her eyebrows.
"what?"
"do you not like the ring?" lewis repeated himself, sitting up slightly. "because if so, i can get you another one and this time you can come with me. i chose that one all by myself and i wasn't even really sure about it being 'you' because your style literally changes every week and i can totally understand if you don't like it like — that's totally valid and i'm sure — "
"oh, my god," y/n sat up straight, folding legs under her as she looked at her fiancé. "you think i don't like the ring?"
"... yeah."
"lewis," y/n dragged out the 's', standing up from the bed and rapidly moving towards her dresser, opening a small box and pulling out her ring, her engagement ring. "this the most beautiful ring i have ever seen in my life."
and it was, really. it had intricate patterns throughout the band, with a giant diamond sitting in the middle with several diamonds surrounding it. and what made it even more special was the fact that lewis had his initials, along with hers engraved on the inside of the ring. that's what made y/n fall in love with it.
"really?" lewis asked hopefully from the bed, watching her make her towards his side of the bed. she sat down next to him and took his hand in hers, the ring still clutched in her free hand.
"but that ring is not the reason i said yes, you know that, right? like, you could ask me to marry you with a ring made out of tissue paper and foil and i would still end up saying yes," y/n whispered, leaning in closer and placing a soft kiss on his lips before she gave him the ring and put out her hand for him to slide it on. "as long as it's you asking me that damn question."
lewis chuckled, sliding on the ring onto her ring finger and kissing it. he looked at her, the smile being so genuine that it shone in his eyes and y/n could see him being in love and she knew she was no different from him.
"marry me, will you?" lewis asked again, in the empty room with no one, no shining lights, no crowd standing there applauding, no extravagant arrangement of flowers, just them, a total contrast to when he had first asked the question. even though the answer was already yes, he couldn't help but ask. just so he could hear it one more time.
"only because you asked so nicely," y/n teased him, making lewis chuckle before he leaned in, closing the gap between them.
no shining lights, no crowd standing there applauding, no extravagant arrangement of flowers, just them.
yet, somehow, this managed to be even more special than that one.
≡;- ꒰ °real life ꒱
y/n wasn't there when lewis woke up, just a post it note, along with a small box on her side of the bed saying that she was called to her office a bit early and wouldn't be home until late afternoon.
lewis smiled as he looked at the numerous hearts drawn on the note. he kept the note aside, mentally noting that he would have to add it to his collection of notes he had received from y/n throughout the course of their relationship. he took the box and opened it, his face scrunched up in confusion before he smiled, a laugh leaving him as he took out the contents of the box.
it was a paper ring.
the most simple thing yet he knew he would choose this over a million something diamond ring. a small heart on the top with the ridges along the band, it was perfect.
there was another note attached to it, just one simple line and it had lewis smiling for the rest of the day
'i like shiny things but i'd marry u with paper rings ♡'
yeah, he made the right choice marrying her.
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton, lilymhe and 862,926 others
yourusername i like shiny things but i'd marry you with paper rings 💌
tagged lewishamilton
8,719 comments
username NO ONE'S DOING IT LIKE THEM
username brb crying.
username TAYLOR SWIFT REFERENCE IM DEAD
lilymhe gf are u cheating on me ://
-> yourusername NEVER baby he's just a side piece
-> lewishamilton ...
username i see how kind god has been to others 💔💔
username no bc they're so in love i could throw up
charles_leclerc is that why he's been blasting that damn song the whole day
-> lewishamilton it's a great song ❤️
-> yourusername yes it is ❤️
username THE PAPER RINGS THE LOVE LETTER THE SONG IM DECEASED
lewishamilton uh huh that's right darling ❤️
-> yourusername you're the one i want ❤️
lewishamilton loved the ring so much 💍 i love you
-> yourusername im so glad <3 i love you sm
#lewis hamilton x you#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton x fem!reader#lewis hamilton x female reader#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton instagram au#lewis hamilton imagines#lewis hamilton blurb#f1 instagram au#f1 x female reader#f1 imagines#f1 x reader#formula one x you#formula one x reader#formula one x y/n#fake instagram imagines#fake social media#social media au
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
“MAKE ME”- H.J.P x READER
Warnings: fluff, rivals to lovers, idiots in denial that they’re in love, Harry being stupid bc why not
Pairing: Harry James Potter x reader
Author’s Notes: idk I just felt a little silly 🤷♀️
Summary: Harry can’t seem to keep his mouth shut around Y/n
Harry and Y/n never really got along. Why? Godric knows. It’s been going on for as long as anybody could remember to the point that the origins often varied amongst everybody.
“Oh! It was because Harry accidentally hexed her hair to be snakes.”
“It’s because she struck him by lightning to match his scar.”
“He got a bludger thrown at her during one of their quidditch practices!”
“She dressed up as you know who for a costume party once!”
None of those reasons were the actual origin of their feud, though they were actual events that had occurred.
The irony was that they should’ve gotten along perfectly well together on paper, both being in Gryffindor, both on the quidditch team, both hated by Snape (though Snape hated almost everybody except for green eyes redhead Gryffindor girls) and they both had many mutual friends between them.
They were just constantly at each others throats, it was like it was a game for the two. They definitely did always argue with a wide smile on their face.
Take today for example, it was quidditch practice and like usual, they were arguing.
“Potter, I swear to Merlin I’ll bat this bludger at you!” Y/n pointed her bat threateningly at him. The rest of the team had learnt to ignore them at that point, learning that they just work better motivated by their frustration at each other.
Harry just threw his arms up, “do it, l/n, we all know it’s an empty threat anyways because you’ll miss my face again.”
She gave him a scandalised look, “again?! Who said I ever missed your face, scarhead?”
“Ron! The last time I went to the hospital wing.” Harry grinned triumphantly as she glared at Ron at his spot by the goal to which he just observed the sky with mild interest.
“Do you know how vague that is? You’re in the hospital every other day, attention whore.” She huffed and crossed her arms.
It was then that they got shouted at by Wood to actually partake in practice to which they finally listened.
After practice where everyone was going to the changing rooms, Harry trailed after her and spoke in a sing song voice behind Y/n, “you missed me.”
She turned around with a light scowl on her face, “shut it Harold.”
He had his stupid smirk on his face that often found it’s way there when he was around there as he stepped closer to her, she stayed still, “oh yeah? Make me.”
His emerald eyes flitted to her lips and she felt her heartbeat pick up at the decreasing amount of personal space between them, “bet.”
His smile widened at her response but not for long as she pulled out her wand and wordlessly did a spell to seal his mouth shut.
In a moment of pure panic she just rushed into the changing room, did i seriously just hex a boy after almost kissing him?
As anybody would after hexing a persons mouth shut after almost kissing them, Y/n avoided Harry. Dodging him in hallways, quite literally jumping into random classrooms (though that was a one time thing after seeing a couple of seventh years exchanging spit in there).
Later in the common room, she was curled up in the corner with her knees to her chest, reading a book to calm her nerves, while also covering her face with said book.
This half assed disguise clearly did nothing for her because Ron sat right on the chair next to her.
“Y/n! My dorm now!”
She gave him an indignant look, “Ronnil Wazlib! Me and you need to have words about what you spilled to Harold you little rat!”
Ron just shook his head at her exasperatedly.
“Don’t shake your head at me like I’m your nan with dementia, I will tell ‘mione about your undying love for her!”
His eyes widened and he clasped a hand over her mouth, “just shut up and go up to my dorm.”
She threw her hands up in surrender and got up to go to his dorm, she walked into his dorm first and as soon as she turned to ask him what he wanted to talk about, the door shut in her face, she tried to open it but it was locked. She tried to magically unlock it, but it didn’t work.
Her blood ran cold when she realised her mistake, Harold.
She turned to see him sitting on his bed and he wordlessly patted the spot next to him.
She furrowed her brows but listened all the same as she sat down next to him, “that’s a little too much effort to just talk to me, Potter, just say you love me at this point.”
He gave her a deadpan stare and she then realised he was still hexed so she pulled out her wand and undid it. She gave him an apologetic look.
“Why did he try so hard to get me in here with you?” She asked curiously.
Harry seemed to contemplate what he was gonna say before he finally said, “well I’m not gonna say I’m in love with you but I can say that I like you. A lot actually.”
She gave him an incredulous look, “Excusé moi?”
He just nodded, “you’re brilliant and beautiful and smart and funny and I like you. And I think- no I know you like me too.”
She furrowed her brows, “how can you be so sure about that?”
He pushed a stray piece of hair out of her face and kept his hand cupping the side of her face, “because I know you.”
For once she didn’t argue against him and when he leaned in this time, she let their lips touch and she melted into the kiss. His lips were soft against hers and although they spent years with such animosity towards each other, it seemed to now just turn into blind affection as they naturally sank into each others arms.
When they pulled away with soft smiles still on each others faces, she spoke, “and you tried to get on my case for missing you in the hospital wing?”
Harry’s face lit up even more if that was possible, “so you did miss me!”
She rolled her eyes, “that was not new knowledge, get over it!”
He laughed and she decided to shut him up for the second time that day, except not with magic this time, but with another kiss.
It was then that Ron decided to burst in to the room, “have you guys killed each other ye- Merlin!”
He gasped at them as they jumped apart from each other. Harry looking proud while y/n looked slightly ashamed.
She threw a pillow at him as he ran off shouting for everyone saying he had money to collect.
#harry potter#harry potter fandom#harry potter fanfic#harry potter x reader#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter x fem!reader#harry potter fluff#harry james potter#harry potter x y/n#harry potter x you#idiots in love#idiots in denial#enemies to lovers#harry james potter x reader#harry potter blurb#daniel radcliffe gif#daniel radcliffe#daniel radcliffe x reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Name Day
Astarion x gn!reader
Summary: It's your name day. Astarion wants to do something special for you.
today is my birthday, so I figured I'd write something a little self-indulgent
It’s your name day, and Astarion has been frantic
He doesn’t remember much about his life before Cazador, but he knows that birthdays are a big fucking deal for elves
And whether you’re an elf or not, he wants to do something. If you are an elf, it’s all the more important for him to celebrate accordingly.
He’s freaking out. What in the hells does he do for you? What in the hells can he get you?
He’s more than happy to buy you anything–he’s more than happy to steal you anything, but you have everything reasonable that you could want.
Nothing seems good enough for you. He knows that you’ll more than likely love whatever he ends up with, but that doesn’t mean he’s cutting himself any slack.
He’s so desperate that he goes to Gale. He’s got ideas, but he’s just a vampire with limited resources and limited nighttime hours. He knows when he’s at a disadvantage, and though he’s loathe to ask for help, he isn’t willing to fumble this.
So he convinces you to visit Waterdeep and to drop in on your wizard friend, who has insisted on numerous occasions that you’re more than welcome at his tower any time.
It takes a few days, but Gale does manage to enchant something for Astarion to gift you. The wizard had helped him plan it, and he’d basically had to create the enchantment from the ground up. It’s beautiful, and he absolutely cannot wait to give it to you.
The day of your birthday arrives, and you’re at your shared home in Bloomridge, in the Lower City of Baldur’s Gate. The house–like many of the homes in the neighborhood–is built onto the side of the city wall. It’s small but not cramped, with a large, inviting kitchen, a cozy drawing room, and two bedrooms. Two balconies–one off the main bedroom, one off the drawing room–look out over the city and Grey Harbor.
Astarion is nervous, and he’s never been more glad to not have a heart, since it would probably give him away.
It’s evening. The two of you have just gotten up. You’re sitting out on the balcony, curled up on the outdoor settee. There’s a lantern hanging on a hook above you as you read. Astarion’s arm rests around your shoulders, a book clasped in his other hand. You’re nestled into his side, a barely held together ancient tome in your lap. Scratch lays on the ground in front of the settee, head on his paws.
A raucous laughter pierces through the foggy evening. Karlach and Lae’zel are the first to appear on the stairs.
Leave it to your merry band of misfits to disrupt the peace of your little neighborhood.
You’re off the couch and at the front door in a flash. Scratch gives a confused woof before trotting off after you. Astarion can hear you laughing as you let them all in.
By the time he can see you at the door, you’re being squeezed by Karlach. Gale stands, grinning, in the hall. Wordlessly, he nudges a package into Astarion’s hands.
Wyll has brought a cake. Lae’zel carries something that looks strangely like a sword wrapped in paper. Shadowheart has a little box.
As you lead them all in, Gale hands you a large bottle of Blackstaff wine.
You drink and laugh with these people who, over the course of only a few months, became your best friends. And as much as Astarion hates to admit it, he loves them for showing up for you.
Eventually, Karlach pushes you to open the presents they’ve brought.
As expected, Lae’zel has brought you a Githyanki sword, a traditional gift for warriors on their name days. Shadowheart has brought you a necklace that she’s blessed.
Astarion saves his for last, sliding it into your lap when you’re laughing at something Wyll has said, your voices all a little louder from the wine. You look at him, a little confused, but you tear the paper off anyway.
You’re even more confused when you discover six stone tablets and wooden styluses inside.
Gale takes pity on you, and picks one up, using the stylus to write ‘happy name day, tav’ on one of the slates. You gasp when it appears on the other five almost immediately.
“So you can talk with everyone when you need to,” Astarion explains. He hates how soft his voice sounds, but gods above, he put a lot of thought into this. He so desperately wants you to like it.
But his fears evaporate when you launch out of your chair, your arms wrapping around his neck in a tight hug.
He laughs and hugs you back, relieved that, for once, he could give you something nice, something you deserve, so that he could show you just how cared for you are.
#astarion x reader#astarion x gn reader#astarion x tav#astarion#astarion fluff#astarion fanfic#astarion headcanons#astarion fic#astarion romance#bg3#baldur's gate 3
440 notes
·
View notes
Text
11 | The Fangs Between Us
summary. In his honest opinion, the artist who drew your portrait should be fired, even if he’s no expert in the arts. Your softer features are far too sharp, and your sharper features are far too soft, in what he supposes is an effort to ‘enhance’ your appearance, but now it just looks plain uncanny. They also forgot to take into account the scars of battle on your skin, a part of your hair that he remembers sticking out more, the sheepishness of your smile looking straight at the painter, the two puncture wounds on your neck…
Ah. He wonders if you still have those. The last time he saw them, they’d nearly faded. And nowadays, you make it a point to keep your neck tucked under your collar, which leaves everything to his imagination.
warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, reader is a bard
pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader
parts. TFBU masterlist
a/n. it's been a while! this isn't the longest of chapter but it's to kick my creative juices back into gear :) thank you sm for your patience friends <3
He knows he hasn’t returned your cloak yet. Unfortunately for you, Astarion has taken a special liking to the dull fabric.
Despite its dreary grey shade and the tears from being worn relentlessly, it’s of surprisingly good quality. It’s the only reason it's survived this long, he reasons, and also why the sun can never pierce through its sewing job and burn into his own skin.
When he felt the tadpole leave him, he thought he would never see the sunlit streets of Baldur’s Gate again. But this cloak of yours has brought him a new sense of freedom he hadn’t had before—free of Cazador, free of an unwelcome visitor in his skull, free of the looming fear of death…and most importantly, free of his fear of the sun.
Being “stuck” in your home has given him too much time. Too much aimless staring at a book he’s already read four times over. Moreover, the others have become somewhat accustomed to his presence again…meaning some (Gale, specifically) don’t mind leaving Astarion by himself. And as much as he hates admitting it, Astarion would rather Gale’s incessant lectures rather than the boring silence you leave behind at the break of dawn.
An outing or two couldn’t hurt, surely.
So he embarks. Where to, he doesn’t know. But he leaves the house, making sure to lock the door behind him when he remembers how Shadowheart had scolded you for the mistake of not doing so. It’s not that he’s afraid of the cleric, of course. He’s a damn vampire, for heaven’s sake. He’s only being cautious.
The cloak makes it feel as if he were in an oven, especially with the weather becoming more sunny by the day, but he can’t bring himself to care. Not when he’s finally standing in the middle of a bustling street, staring unblinkingly while others rush past him, all seemingly having a place to be. A newspaper boy here, a maid there, a circus performer somewhere there. He suddenly feels surrounded by too much life, and it’s not much help when he begins noticing fleeting glances in his direction. Wearing a thick winter cloak in the middle of the summer isn’t exactly common, after all.
“Baldur’s Mouth? They just started printing papers again, if you’d like a peek.”
Astarion glances down at the newspaper boy with squinted eyes, and his voice sounds snarkier than intended—not that he cares. “Who in the hells would pay two silvers for a newspaper that sucked up to Gortash just a few months ago? Does anyone really pay for this abomination?”
The boy frowns, crossing his arms. “If you didn’t want one, you could’ve just said so.”
“Really? Your incessant yelling around the market says otherwise,” Astarion snatches one of the papers, much to the boy’s distaste. He eyes the front cover for a split moment before realizing the very front page has a supposed ‘Exclusive Interview from the Hero of Baldur’s Gate! Never seen before!’
He finds himself reading.
“Mister, if you’re going to read, you have to pay!”
Though Astarion gives him a sharp glare that has the boy swallowing the lump in his throat, he relents, tossing one silver coin in his direction. Not without a click of his tongue, however, and the coin lands in the boy’s palms with a plop. “It’s two silvers.”
“I’m fully aware, don’t worry.”
The Baldur’s Mouth is full of cheap stories, surely paid off by its snotty writer as always, but Astarion acknowledges improvement where it’s due. Gortash’s death must’ve struck some sort of moral chord in the newspaper because a few of its columns are filled with mundane updates on the rebuilding of the city, even if they don’t provide as much entertainment as it surely could’ve if they stretched a few truths. He doesn’t read much into them, though, because he’s soon found himself a corner in Elfsong Tavern where he’s practically boring holes into the damn paper. The cover, specifically.
In his honest opinion, the artist who drew your portrait should be fired, even if he’s no expert in the arts. Your softer features are far too sharp, and your sharper features are far too soft, in what he supposes is an effort to ‘enhance’ your appearance, but now it just looks plain uncanny. They also forgot to take into account the scars of battle on your skin, a part of your hair that he remembers sticking out more, the sheepishness of your smile looking straight at the painter, the two puncture wounds on your neck…
Ah. He wonders if you still have those. The last time he saw them, they’d nearly faded. And nowadays, you make it a point to keep your neck tucked under your collar, which leaves everything to his imagination.
He wonders if you’re ashamed of them as he’s ashamed of the ones on his own neck.
Astarion tears his attention away from your portrait and resumes reading the actual paper.
The questions the interviewer asks are laughable, almost. They’re painfully boring or painfully intrusive, with nothing in between, resulting in awkward short answers or whatever filler the writer put in place of your answer. Half your words, at the very least, must’ve been altered, as they don’t sound much like you.
One question catches his eye.
‘So what does the hero of Baldur’s Gate plan to do after the city is rebuilt?’
Astarion lifts the paper closer to his face.
‘’This city is my home…but I don’t think I could stay here any longer than I have to. I’ve made some precious memories here, but I’ve also made ones that I’d rather move on from. People I want to move on from. For that reason, as much as I love this city, I’d have to embark for elsewhere.’’
His eyes widen. You’re leaving? When the hells did you decide that?
‘Truly a sad day for the citizens to see their beloved bard leaving. Knowing our readers must be curious as to what their next step is, we made sure to discuss more on this matter.’
‘’Where will I go? I mean…I guess I’d just wander. Explore. Faerun is a vast continent. I’m sure I’ll have plenty to do. Plenty of people to meet.’’
Astarion’s gaze reaches the end of the page. The rest of the sentences babble on in flowery language praising you, which he doesn’t even bother reading before shoving the newspaper into one of the pockets of your cloak. He’s not sure if he would’ve preferred simply not reading the damn paper, but he tells himself that this is an improvement. A reason for celebration, even! Without you, he won’t have to tiptoe around the city any longer, nor will you need to worry about having to continue a months-long argument with him.
This is exactly what the two of you need. Space. For a while. Maybe forever. He stares at the beer stains on the table. Forever sounds like a long time, even if it’s only a few years to him and the rest of your life to you.
Forever sounds too long, yet not long enough.
He’s always wanted to be immortal. Even before he’d grown fangs and his eyes turned red. Sure, the path he took to get here…left a lot to be desired, but with Cazador gone, he supposes it’s not so bad, being a vampire—-besides the whole ‘not-being-able-to-see-the-sun’ fiasco. Sure, he has nightmares every other night about his time spent under his master, but without him, he’s essentially invincible as long as he doesn’t find a cleric who specializes in radiant magic. Sure, wine tastes like vinegar. Sure, he has to wear this suffocating cloak everywhere, but is it really so bad?
He sighs. It could be worse. He could be dead, for all he knows. Actually, dead.
Astarion stands to leave. This damn tavern is even more suffocating than his cloak, especially filled with patrons already half passed out from booze before noon. There’s a reason why he’s always preferred wine over whatever’s filling their cups.
He paces toward the door, but just as he’s halfway there, it swings open. And much to his horror stands a familiar cleric who nearly chucked a fork into his eye just this morning.
“Shadowheart,” the bartender smiles, ceasing his hand midway, polishing a cup. “What brings you here this morning?”
She certainly won’t miss her mark this time if she sees him out in public.
Astarion immediately turns on his heel and heads for the stairs. He practically shoves through multiple patrons in the process, but he manages to get there just as Shadowheart joins Alan at the bar, her arms looped around two large fabric bags as she greets him. They’re just within earshot, even as the spawn scrambles to get upstairs. “Just picking up our attire for the celebration and your tavern was on the way back. My friends and I do apologize for our inconsistent appearances…”
He doesn’t wait to hear the rest of their conversation because he’s already trying the doors to each of the rooms to figure another way out of the building. Most doors are locked shut, but there’s one he tries that slides right open.
Much to his distaste, it’s occupied.
He slams the door back shut just as the woman shrieks.
He peeks out the window. He could jump down, technically, but there are far too many people on the street in broad daylight to go unnoticed. And if there were to be a commotion, no doubt the damn cleric would come rushing out, thinking it’s another attack. So, instead of returning downstairs, he opts for the ladder leading to the rooftop, higher up into the building.
The warm air of the summer breeze hits him like an axe to the face.
Still, he climbs out, grateful to even managed to have escaped the same room as Shadowheart. Thank the heavens. And for a moment, he thinks he’s alone, until there’s another shrill voice rushing at him.
“There you are, Tav! I’ve waited days to see you here agai—" the tiefling stops, her smile dropping. "You’re not Tav.”
Way to state the obvious.
Clearly, he wants to spit back. But he’s too occupied trying to figure out why she looks so familiar to do so. He merely squints at her, which some might consider rude, but she doesn't seem to mind at all. Noticing his confusion, she blinks. “Wait, you’re Tav’s friend!”
Friend. He hasn’t been considered your friend in a long while.
“Aren’t you supposed to be on house arrest?” she tilts her head. “Did you maybe make up with Tav?”
Ah. You must’ve told her about his—peculiar arrangement.
“Who are you?”
“I’m Alfira. We met at the grove and Last Light Inn, didn’t we?” she offers him a smile, which he doesn’t return. She doesn’t wait for an answer either. “I wasn’t expecting you here…Did Tav send you?”
Astarion scrunches his nose as she squints at him, hands on either of her hips as she gauges how he seems to sink further into your cloak, hesitating to kiss the sun’s radiant glow. She doesn’t seem to think much of it, though, as she taps her foot impatiently. “Well?”
“I—yes,” is all his damn brain can spit out.
“Oh,” her face softens, and a soft small stretches across her lips. How gullible. It wasn’t even a particularly good lie. “You should’ve just said so. In that case, I must ask you how they’re doing…I haven’t seen them in weeks. Are they well? Have they started reading up on my lyrics? Have they got a message for me? Ah, scratch those, where are they right now?”
Hells. He’s already itching to jump off the roof.
“Does your head ever implode with all those questions racked inside of it?” he grumbles. “And I’m afraid I don’t know half the answers. Sorry to disappoint.”
Alfira’s shoulders relax as she leans back on her heel, eyes falling to her shoes before she looks back up. “...Well, that’s a shame. Then, what brings you here?”
This time, he’s prepared.
“Seeing the state you’re in, my appearance was warranted. They only wished for me to ensure they’re doing well. It’s a busy time of year, you see, and they haven’t had the time to indulge your—-outings up here.”
“That’s good to hear.”
An awkward silence hangs in the air like a deathtrap, and he wishes he could say something—anything else about what you’ve been up to, but it comes up empty. It’s not like the two of you are on terms to sit down and have a chat every week over tea, but he’s not sure if he knows any more about what you’re doing than this bard standing right before him. You don’t play music anymore. You don’t frequent the bars as much as you used to. You don’t do a lot of things anymore. But what do you do?
It irks him: not knowing, that is.
He only realizes moments later that the bard has been talking this entire time.
“---and I’d really appreciate it if you could take it to them. I can’t imagine anyone else using it as well as they did,” she reaches behind her bag perched against the stair rails, and lifts something in his direction. He’d be a fool not to recognize it anywhere. It’s a pretty thing, the lyre. Your lyre. “I don’t know how I managed to find this at the market, but I like to think it’s fate. Tell them it’s a gift for helping with my songs.”
Astarion stares at the instrument. He runs the tips of his fingers against its familiar strings, taking note of indents he’s all too familiar with and the chips from months running in the wild. The last time he’d held it like this, it felt like it brought him closer to you. Now, it only feels like the cold dead wood it is.
“Were you looking for it?”
“No. Like I said, it must be fate.”
How cheesy.
His lips quirk downward even further, if that’s even possible, as he narrows in on a multitude of new dents and cracks in the wood. The lyre is yours, without a doubt, but it’s clearly seen a different level of care than what you would’ve given it even while fighting to the death. He glares at a particular blemish, and Alfira sighs.
“It’s seen better times, I know. But I’m sure they’d appreciate it even if it’s not how they left it.”
Wouldn’t you? No. He doesn’t know if you’d appreciate it. Why would you? You don’t even play the damn thing anymore, much less produce any music. He contemplates just tossing the object, but the second Alfira sees the glint of hesitation in his eyes, she pounces, shaking her head.
“Please,” she pleads. “Give it to them.”
His brows pinch.
And because he doesn’t want to entertain this tiefling any longer than he has to, and because he’d much rather get out of the sun and no other reason, he huffs. “Fine. I will.”
The smile she gives him doesn’t prompt him to do the same.
Months prior, he could see himself in the reflection of the gloss glazing over the wood. At least, that’s what he thinks because he could see your own expressions reflecting off it when you played it in the sun. It doesn’t hold a glow anymore, much less a reflection.
The lyre weighs heavily in his hands.
“I won’t pry,” Alfira says. “They never really told me what happened between the two of you…I respect your privacy, so I won’t ask. But whatever it was…I do hope it won’t happen again.”
It’s a weak one, but it’s a warning. He’s had plenty of those to figure it out.
“It won’t,” he mutters.
He’ll be long gone before it can.
Sleep is a luxury you can't afford nowadays.
Surely, the bags under your eyes are enough of an indication if it weren’t for the sluggishness of your every step. Still, you manage to offer your guest a lopsided smile out of respect. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“No, I’m alright. Thank you, though,” Yevir says, eyeing you up and down, obviously noting your disheveled state. “Is now not a good time?”
You shake your head, straightening your back against the dining room table with a cough. “It’s alright. I’m only tired. With the preparations for the celebration next week, I’m a bit overwhelmed. I was meaning to speak to you again anyway.”
He doesn’t seem convinced, but you can’t be bothered to deny your exhaustion further.
“You’ve been busy. I’ve seen the dead spawn that they retrieved from the Blushing Mermaid.”
Quite frankly, you feel terrible for the folk who own the place. A hag and then a horde of vampires in their basement in the span of a few months? You think it’d be a sign to close the tavern down.
Your tone remains grim. “Were any of them the woman you were looking for?”
He shakes his head, and a breath of relief escapes your lips. “No, she’s…I still haven’t found her.”
And maybe it’s the fatigue getting to your head, but your mouth moves before you can stop it. “You would think she’d try to meet someone she was so close to.”
It’s insensitive, and you wouldn’t blame him if he promptly stood to leave, but all he does is hang his head, dragging his hands over his face. He doesn’t seem like he’s gotten much rest recently, either. “Trust me, I’ve been wondering that for weeks now.”
“And have you come up with anything?”
“No. None. Zero. All I get are nightmares that I might get to one of my patrol shifts, and I’ll find her dead body lying on the ground somewhere,” he groans. “Well, deader body.”
“Maybe she’s afraid.”
“Of what? Me? Who in the hells would be afraid of me? Certainly not her, I must assure you. She’s always been stubborn, and she’s far more determined than myself, believe it or not.”
“Not you, but of herself. Vampire thirst surely can’t be so easy to control, and let’s be honest…” you point at your own neck, and the place where two puncture wounds should be on your wrist burns. “You’re practically a blood pot being offered to her.”
He frowns. “Is it so hard to control their thirst? I will admit that I don’t know much about vampire spawn aside from the obvious…”
You half snicker to yourself, almost in disbelief. “Believe me, they’re beasts when they’re ravenous.”
“Beasts?”
“Do you blame them? To them, blood is essentially liquid gold,” you shrug. “It tastes nothing like actual blood on their tongue. Sure, it might be a bit adjacent to drinking iron, but if they get their hands on prey, they really like…it tastes sweet to them. Would you deny a treat if you spent decades cooped up inside a dungeon cell, starving?"
Yevir’s face pales.
“See?”
His brows furrow as you sigh into your chair. “I’ve done my own share of research, but books seem to overexaggerate things most of the time…Can I ask how you know so much about them? Even if I manage to find her, I’d want to find some way to make her new life more tolerable…it’s not much, but it’s the least I could do.”
You blink.
Shit. You’ve said too much.
What are you supposed to say? You dated a vampire? Let him ravage you on the forest floor and spent months in his tent? That you kissed him just weeks prior, and he’s living just beside your own room? That he told you what your blood does to him, and reveal the bite marks on your skin?
You stand, your chair legs scraping against the ground.
“I have a book you might like. Let me grab it for you. And some tea, maybe,” you smile almost too widely. Fortunately for you, Yevir only nods.
“I’d appreciate it.”
You essentially grab whatever vampire-related book you have shoved under your bed and rush back downstairs to the kitchen. There isn’t much to learn from the thing with how much you already know, but you’re sure it must contain something that he might consider helpful. You know how horrible it felt to be kept in the dark about vampirism, even more so when you realized just how terrible the relationship between master and spawn tended to be…so a small push certainly wouldn’t hurt. Especially with Yevir's own problems with his beloved spawn. This is how you reassure yourself as you pour whatever tea Gale’s left on the stove into a cup.
If you were in Astarion’s shoes, you’d think becoming a spawn would have been the worst turning point of your life. And for a while, you thought he’d felt the same. A part of you thinks he does. But in the time you’ve spent with him and the stories he’s told you sparingly of his life before Cazador, your gut tells you differently. Especially when he’s drenched in the blood of your enemies, holding the immortality he’s long wished for with a sickening smile stretching on his lips. Guilt pools in your stomach for even bringing up the thought, but you can’t deny it, either.
You wonder if it hadn’t been for Cazador’s leash tying him down, he would’ve turned out differently. More twisted. That he would’ve indulged in the most corrupt parts of him as a magistrate. That maybe he wouldn’t have learned the value of a life. That he would’ve become more alike to him—the man he would’ve become if he’d ascended.
That small voice in your head is what stopped the ascension, for you feared he would lose everything he’d gained in his time as a spawn, no matter how trivial he believed it to be.
You hear the front door opening and snap out of your self-tangent. No use dwelling on it now. What’s done is done. No matter how strange the situation between you and the spawn is now, you’d rather have this than what could’ve happened if you hadn’t listened to your gut. You remain firm, no matter how much he hates you for it.
You pour Shadowheart an extra cup.
But as you step back into the living space, you realize the occupant doesn’t drink tea at all.
Astarion stands in the middle of the room, eyes wide as he stares at your guest with an undeniably bloody sack clutched in one hand. His large, red eyes seem glued to the ones of your guest, who stares back even more appalled as he takes one look at Astarion’s pale skin, the shade of his eyes, and the very bloody bag containing what you assume to be his dinner.
You drop the two cups onto the ground, tea splashing against your feet.
“You—Is he—” Yevir stumbles over his words, yet his instincts as a guard have him reaching for his weapon. “He’s—”
Astarion sneers, though his expression strains as Yevir’s hand reaches his sword. “Now, let’s not do anything that could ruin the wonderfully tasteful furniture in here...”
The Fist snaps his head in your direction. “He’s a spaw–!”
The back of a sword hilt hits the side of his head with an audible ‘thud,’ and he’s out like a light.
You stare at the unconscious body slouched over your dining table for a brief moment in utter shock before you gawk at the culprit. Of course. Lae’zel huffs, awfully pleased for someone who just caused a concussion to an innocent man. “Your soldiers are such children.”
Astarion barks a laugh, though it sounds more of a mix of disbelief and amusement.
You wish you could go one day in this house without another headache to add to the growing list.
Tags: @ayselluna @littleenglishfangirl @bg3obsessedsideblog @iwillpissyourpants @cyberpr1m3 @snowlotr @road-riot @spacekidnova @madislayyy @lordfishflakes @nicalysm @djarinsway @tinystarfishgalaxy @brainz00 @hopeful-n-sad @ohdeerieme @madisban @chrismarium @chonkercatto @fanfic-share @bitterbeanren @sleepyred1703 @miskouly @ravenswritingroom @iamlowkeycrying @deezus-roy @spiritraves @mariposakitten @dinobae-replyacc @whisperingwillowxox @bdudette @misscrissfemmefatale @atropapurpurea @cosywinterevenings @phoenixgurl030 @generalstephkenobi @shadowsmusical @himesuedi @girlygmer-blog @vulgarfuckinvirgo77 @hyperfixationwhore @teardropcup @marina-and-the-memes @kiwi-mansanas @woosaaghh @cminr @everybodystaycalm @divineknightmare @bangtanbecks @carolinelec @aelieknox @bluelovesleep @catching-fire-in-the-wind @moonlight-stay @thatbeanieboss @atotalmess-lol @lavender-romancer @roguishcat
#astarion ancunin#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate astarion#astarion x tav#bg3 astarion#astarion x reader#astarion#bg3 x reader#tfbu#astarion x oc#tav#baldurs gate 3 x reader
281 notes
·
View notes
Text
what once was mine | ch 3
Loki x Reader
Series Summary: When watching what once was supposed to be the rest of his life, in an empty room in the TVA, Loki sees someone he can't recognize; a girl who's all tenderness and loose smiles, and most importantly, she was smiling at him.
A/N: We're finally heading into the main plot I think lol. Hope y'all like this one, let me know. <3
Masterlist | Read ch 2 here
"Casey!" You called, hurriedly walking between the rows of files while looking down at the paperwork in your hands. TVA's library was either your favorite place or the place you hated the most. No in-between. It was your favorite when you stopped by to lounge in the armchairs and read your books in the calming silence. But when you had to traverse between the cramped shelves in search of files, that's when you hated it.
"Casey?" You called again, still turning the pages with a frown on your face.
"Yeah, what's up?"
The sudden voice caught your attention and you raised your head just in time to not walk straight into your friend. You chuckled to yourself, coming to stand beside him in the small space between the tall shelves. "I was going through this report and it mentions a code 581, I've never heard that one before." With your finger, you pointed to the underlined letters on the report.
"Oh, that's a fun one," Casey smiled, taking the papers from your hands, "it's kind of a rare case actually, it's when two variants appear simultaneously…"
While you spoke with Casey, all the way on the other side of TVA's weirdly shaped building, and one floor above, stood Mobius with Loki by his side; both of them leaning on the railings and observing you from afar.
"How long did you say she's been here?" Loki asked, his eyes never leaving your form. His face had a complicated expression, almost as if he was still figuring out how to feel about actually seeing you, the same girl from the life he was supposed to have.
"I didn't, I said that time passes differently here in the TVA," Mobius spoke beside him, his eyes slowly shifting between you and Loki. "But, if I had to guess I'd say the equivalent of around two years."
It's been a couple of weeks since Loki arrived, and in his time here he's been quite helpful for the TVA; not enough to catch the rogue variant, but enough to earn his end of the bargain.
"Is it a habit of yours to keep variants around then?" Loki turned to Mobius with a raised brow.
"Not at all," Mobius chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. "You two are the only ones so far, and you can thank me for that, by the way."
Loki pursed his lips as he shifted his gaze back to you. He watched as you spoke with Casey, huge smile on your lips as you gestured around saying something he couldn't understand. "Why keep her?" He asked quietly.
Mobius sighed, following the path of Loki's gaze toward you. "Same reason as you, pretty much. She was very... familiar with the Loki from her timeline and I figured she could be of help to us. At first, she was a very tough nut to crack, but it was either that or be pruned so eventually, she agreed, and has helped capture many Loki variants in her time here."
A scoff went past Loki's lips. His hands gripped the railings tighter, heartbeat quickening with each passing second that brought him closer to meeting you. Why he felt this way, he couldn't tell; it was as if his body knew something he didn't. "And, by her timeline, you mean my timeline as well?"
"Technically, yes."
─── ·❆· ───
"Thank you, Casey, I'll see you at lunch," you gave your friend a small wave as you turned to go in opposite directions. The ghost of a smile lingered on your lips as you closed the file's folder, but it faded immediately as soon as you looked up.
Mobius stood in front of you, he said your name but it sounded like a whisper drowned underwater to your ears, for you were focused on the person a few steps behind him. He had the same raven black curls, the same sharp nose, fair skin, and bright eyes; his features being highlighted by the artificial lights from TVA's infinite floors. He was a ghost. The one from your worst nightmares and most beautiful dreams. A ghost of your past life, one that instantly got your heartbeat skyrocketing and closed up your throat until you couldn't breathe, or talk, or even think.
You were nearly making holes into the file in your hands with the force you held it with, knuckles going white.
Taking a step closer, Mobius called your name again. He tried reaching out towards you but you took a sharp step back. "There's someone who would like to meet you," he settled for saying, calmly, gesturing behind him.
Forming words became a struggle for you. Your lips parted only to tremble with no sound coming from your mouth. Inhaling sharply, you straightened your posture. "No." You said with finality, your eyes not leaving the ones that reminded you of your Loki.
A frown appeared on his features and he looked like he was about to speak, but you beat him to it, finally looking at Mobius; "You. Me. Storage room, now."
With that, you turned around and took urgent steps to the back of the library, shoving open the door that led to a small storage room for older files no one needed anymore. You turned the switch for the single orange light hanging from the ceiling and then clawed at your scalp, trying your best to regulate your breathing.
Mobius walked in, closing the door behind him. "Listen I can-"
"Explain?" You finished for him, urgency and anger dripping from each syllable, "yeah, you better. What was that? Who is he?"
"We were about to get to that before you stormed off." Mobius shrugged.
"Cut the bullshit, Mobius," you sighed, hands coming to rest on your waist.
"He's a Loki, you've met a hundred of them already."
You bit your lip to hold back the tears stinging behind your eyes. "Yeah, I have, and none of them were-" you hesitated, "None of them looked like-" You swore under your breath when your voice betrayed you.
"Your Loki?"
Mobius' quiet words got you closing your eyes, there was compassion in his voice, being one of the only people here who really knew what you've been through. A long sigh escaped your lips, along with some of the anger, leaving room only for the emptiness that has been following you around for years now.
"Is he?" You were afraid to know, but you asked anyway.
"He was going to be," Mobius took a step closer to you, and this time you allowed him to rest a hand on your shoulder, his thumb brushing against the fabric of your dress shirt. "He came from your timeline, roughly after his attempt at taking over earth."
An unamused chuckle escaped your lips and a single tear ran down your cheek, but you were quick to wipe it away. "Jesus, Mobius. You can't be serious." You looked him straight in the eyes then, voice strained; "you can't be doing this to me."
"He insisted," Mobius raised both hands in front of his chest in a halfhearted attempt to calm you down. "He insisted, okay? He saw you in his file, he wanted to know who you were. What was I supposed to do? He saw you and didn't know who you were but it was clear that you were important, and he felt that too."
A beat of silence passed, and then; "I mean," Mobius chuckled softly, shaking his head; "you should have seen his eyes when he saw you, he looked worse than you do now."
You sniffled, avoiding your teary eyes from his gaze. "What were you supposed to do? Well, what about talking to me first, you oaf," you told him, though there was no malice in your words.
"I'm sorry," Mobius shrugged, not sure of what else he could say to you. "I just figured it wouldn't be fair to either of you if I didn't introduce you. Or, reintroduced you."
You doubted you'd be able to form a coherent thought in your mind right now with the amount of emotions you were going through. But you knew he was right, deep down you did. You just weren't sure what to make of it yet, seeing a Loki who would eventually become your Loki; who, essentially, was your Loki. Just not yet.
It nearly sent you into a panic attack. Seeing him again was all you ever wanted when you lost him, yet now that it's happening, you're not sure if you can handle it. Or if you still want it.
Mobius tried to find your gaze with his, and as if reading your mind, he said; "Isn't this what you wanted when you first got here? To see him again?"
"That's not me anymore, Mobius," you spoke before you could stop yourself. "I'm- I'm not that person anymore." Your voice was quiet, muffled behind the walls you'd built around your wounded heart. "Besides, that's-" You stumbled over your words, tasting your tears on the corner of your lips, "that's not him. That's not the Loki I knew."
"How can you say that, you didn't even speak to the guy," Mobius gestured to Loki's general direction outside of the storage room.
"Yeah well, I don't have to!" You snapped, and closed your mouth soon after, mumbling an apology. "I just- He's not him," you said quieter, almost as if saying it again and again would make it true.
"Maybe not yet," Mobius reasoned, pursing his lips as he mulled over unsaid words; "But he is, otherwise he wouldn't have seen his future with you. You know that."
You buried your hands in the pockets of your pants because you could feel how heavily they were shaking. You bit your lip until you tasted blood. "I can't. I'm sorry, Mobius, but I can't. You tell him I want nothing to do with him." The words rolled off your tongue quickly and strained, you didn't give Mobius time to answer you before you were shoving open the door of the storage room and rushing outside.
From the side of your eyes, as you walked, you noticed Loki leaning against one of the file shelves. He perked up when he saw you, straightening his posture and softening his gaze as he took half a step towards you.
You didn't spare him a second glance before turning your back to him and hurrying to the opposite way.
⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ
Read ch 4 here
Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3
You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.
Loki’s taglist: @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @justaproudslytherpuff @justanotherkpopstanlol @chronicallybubbly @chaoticqueen33 @7minutes-tomidnight @uncle-eggy @oliviaewl @dd122004dd @tani725 @lokihaha34 @levanneisdumb @innebulae @mochminnie @mayemperess @alyeskathewave @buginktsworld @cremebruleequeen @wyvernthekriger @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson @avengersfan25 @mischief2sarawr @yokolesbianism @athenasproverbs @h-l-vlovesvintage @princess-ofthe-pages @daisy-the-quake @talesofadragon @rainbowsocks @alexandra-001 @mary-jinx @stevenknightmarc @falconxsoldier @ladymercury8 @shirukitsune @ladymischief11 @starkzdaughter
#loki x reader#loki laufeyson#loki imagine#loki#marvel#loki series#loki x you#marvel x reader#loki x female reader#imagine#fanfic#angst#fluff#what once was mine#loki fanfic#my story#loki laufeyson x reader
685 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hii, I saw your post saying you want requests for Aventurine, but your pinned says you don't accept requests atm.. I'm just gonna send this one in and if you don't want it you can ignore it ofc :33
Scenario with Aventurine where he (or someone else) handcuffs him to the reader so they have to stay close for a few days but the reader (lightheartedly) hates every second of it?
chained to love.
૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა • ! aventurine + reader reader is gender-neutral friends to lovers aventurine being a piece of shit (lovingly) im ignoring the penacony quest for tis ☆ warning not proofread . . . !? & 1293 — catalogue
“This has to be the worst day of my life,” you deadpanned, staring or more like glaring at the offending item; a pair of handcuffs.
It just so happens that Aventurine and you were sent on a mission to collect debt from someone in Penacony. One thing led to another and both of you got into some trouble, only to end up with a handcuff wrapped around your wrists. Speaking of the infamous gambler, he merely lets out a heartful laugh and pats you on your back, ignoring the scowl of disdain thrown his way. He was unfazed with his situation, which makes you wonder if he had foreseen this beforehand.
“Now don’t say that! With me by your side, I’m sure your life will be much more interesting!” He chirps.
You merely let out an exasperated sigh, feeling a headache coming your way.
~
“(Name).”
Silence.
“(Name), wake up,” Aventurine’s soft voice woke you up from your much-needed beauty sleep.
Groaning, you reluctantly opened your eyes and the first thing you saw was his face unusually close to yours. Heck, you could even count the number of eyelashes due to your proximity. The sudden closeness was enough to fully wake you up. You jumped, only to end up roughly knocking your forehead against his. Both of you yelped in pain, clutching your heads and Aventurine lightly chuckled as he rubbed the now sore spot.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up but I need to use the toilet so…” His voice trailed off, hoping you could read between the lines.
Your eyes widened comically. “No.”
“Well, it’s not like you have a say in this so, let’s go!” He laughed, easily dragging you off the bed and what happens afterwards is something you will take to your grave.
~
You were so used to doing everything alone with peace and quiet engulfed around you that having Aventurine lending you a helping hand was something you couldn’t get used to. What would have taken you many hours to complete certain tasks resulting in you finishing them within the span of an hour or so. Initially, you were surprised with the amount of knowledge the man possesses but then again, there was a reason why he was handpicked by Diamond; due to his charismatic personality and the way he handles matters.
“Hello? Earth to (Name)? Are you still there?”
You blinked, returning to reality when Aventurine waved his gloved hand in front of your face. One quick sweep around your surroundings indicates that you were in your office, with your desk filled with nonstop towering piles of papers that required your attention. Sighing, you leaned back in your seat and used your free hand to rub the space between your eyes.
“I’m done, there’s no way I can finish all these,” you complained, tiredly gesturing at the papers standing before you.
You were oblivious to how his features softened when he heard your complaint. Your body froze when you felt his hand gently caressing your head and you didn’t dare to look up, not wanting to ruin the moment.
“It’s fine, I’ll help you out. Trust me, we can finish them by today,” he murmurs, sounding extremely confident in his words.
The next few hours passed in a blink of an eye and true enough, you had completed your dreadful paperwork. Thrilled, you didn’t think twice and gave Aventurine a bone-crushing hug, letting out a relief laugh as you did so.
“Thank you so much! Now I can finally take a break!” You exclaimed, unaware of how he went stiff in your grip and how his ears flushed red.
~
When he was there to help you with your workload, you would have to repay the favor by being dragged to attend events with him. Both of you managed to conceal the handcuffs from the public’s view by wearing long sleeves, not wanting baseless rumors to spread. Due to how close you stuck to him, people mistook you as his plus one. And you hated how you didn’t mind the thought of it.
“...is this person? I’ve never seen them before.”
You parted your lips, ready to introduce yourself but Aventurine was faster. He smoothly slipped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer until you were snugly pressed against his side. His sudden action elicited a startled look from you but he ignored you, choosing to focus on the stranger and gave them his signature charismatic smile.
“This is my lover; (Name) and we’ve recently got together,” he lied through his teeth. If it weren’t for how long you had known him, your cover would have been exposed on the spot.
“Oh, that’s great news! Wishing the both of you luck on your relationship and hopefully we’ll be receiving a wedding invitation soon!” They teased, earning laughter from all of you.
Once the event was over and you retreated to the privacy of your room, you turned to face him. “Aventurine, what was that for? Why did you tell them that I’m your partner?”
“Hm? Does it matter that much to you?” He hums, struggling to remove his coat and you end up helping him out, gently tugging down the other end with your free hand.
“...What if I say yes? What would you do?” You muttered under your breath but your voice was audible enough for him to pick up.
“I would be pleased, because that’s what I was hoping you would say,” he fully turns to face you, giving you a small but genuine smile.
Both of you held eye contact but you were the first one to break it, feeling shy out of a sudden. Aventurine chuckles, reaching out to cup your chin with one hand, forcing you to look at him once again. It was then you realized he had long removed his glasses, revealing his eyes to you. You had always found his eyes mesmerizing, longing for the times when you could stare at them forever.
Your gaze, filled with a mixture of longing and vulnerability, locked with Aventurine's intense stare. You could feel the heat of his gaze, a tangible force that drew you closer with each passing heartbeat. In his eyes, you saw a reflection of your own yearning; a shared longing that resonated deep within your soul.
Aventurine's expression softened, a rare vulnerability shining through the mask he often wore. In the depths of his gaze, you glimpsed a depth of emotion you had never seen before; a raw, unfiltered longing that mirrored your own. With a subtle shift in your positions, you leaned in closer, drawn inexorably towards each other as if by some invisible force. The air between you crackled with tension, thick with the promise of what was to come.
And then, in a moment that seemed to stretch on for eternity, their lips finally met in a tender, passionate kiss. The kiss was sweet and short; similar to a promise for a long and fulfilling future with one another. You rested your foreheads against one another and you were the first to break the silence.
“So, does this mean we really are lovers now?” You murmured.
“I guess to,” his eyes twinkled in evident happiness at how you returned his feelings.
Clink!
You glanced down, surprised to see the handcuff now on the floor. Your eyes averted back to Aventurine, only to see him holding a key in his hand. It didn’t take you long to pierce the dots together and you shot him a glare.
“Seriously? You had the key on you the entire time and you chose not to use it!?”
“Haha! I wanted to see you suffer- wait, darling, what are you doing?”
“I’m giving you three seconds to run.”
#୨୧ magazine articles#honkai star rail#star rail imagines#star rail x reader#aventurine imagines#aventurine x reader#aventurine x you#aventurine x y/n#aventurine fluff
340 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pinky Promise 2
Pinky Promise Part 1
Part 3
Summary: Part 2 of Pinky Promise. The two of you become close friends, but one night shows Jake just how much you trust him.
Word count: 2.5k
A/N: Hi friends! It’s been a hot minute since I have put something out but I promise you I have a good reason for it! I just had a baby and haven’t had time to sit down and write. But hoping to put out more content here soon! Thank you all for reading!!! - C
It was an ungodly time in the morning when you heard the doorbell ring. It took more will power than you would like to admit to even sit up in bed, head pounding with the slight elevation change. You wiped the sleep and last night’s makeup from your eyes, most likely smearing streaks of it across your face. And you sat there contemplating all of your life’s choices up to this point.
The doorbell seemed to yell at you, telling you that whoever was on the other side must have been impatient. A quick glance at the clock said it was 8:30 and you had to take a deep breath to not hurt the person who was making you get out of bed.
A few stumbling steps later, you opened the door to find a delivery guy with a bag of food. While you took the bag from him, the confusion was pretty clear. Even the guy who was turning to walk away could see it. “There is a note on the receipt.” And then he was gone.
Between the hangover from hell and very few hours of sleep you got; you were slow moving to get back inside. To anyone walking by you must have looked like you lost your mind with the amount of time you spent looking at the bag. But by some miracle, your legs took you back to bed while your mind was still reeling.
The bag didn’t have any sort of logo or name on it, but it did smell good. You opened it up and reached for the receipt first, trying to find answers.
The tacos I promised you. – Jake
A laugh came out as you put the piece of paper aside, making your way to the things that were making your mouth water. Breakfast tacos greeted you and suddenly being woken up was not a bad thing anymore.
You went to reach for your phone to thank the blond-haired pilot but stopped when you remembered exactly why you now had tacos. Your drunken self called your brothers most hated teammate last night because you didn’t want to get your brother involved. You winced at the thought of him finding out and pulled your hand back.
You dreaded looking at your phone, knowing Bradley most likely had blown it up after last night. So, instead of being a responsible adult who answered for her own actions, you turned your phone over. What you couldn’t see meant it wasn’t there. Denial was one of your favorite places to live in.
Jake seemed friendly enough, offering help whenever you needed. He also wasn’t quick to judge you like others. It wasn’t lost on you that Bradley had most likely told his teammates how “reckless and wild” you were, already painting a bad picture of you. But Jake didn’t make you feel that way. He actually made you think that you might be able to call him a friend, even if he didn’t see eye to eye with your brother.
Jake heard a knock at his door and tried to think who would be here at this time of night. The confusion only grew when he opened his door to find you walking past him and making yourself home on his couch.
“Ever think about how dumb Tuesdays are? Like the only thing they are good for is tacos.” Jake had to blink a few times for his mind to catch up to what was happening.
“I can’t say that I have. Did that burning question drive you all the way over here?” He closed the door and walked to the adjacent couch to sit. He had a feeling this was going to be a long visit.
“I had to thank you in person for the tacos since I’m ignoring my phone.” Jake’s eyebrows rose that comment and pushed you on it. He watched as you played with your hair, giving him a hint at one of your tells. You were either uncomfortable or nervous about your answer and he locked that piece of information away for later.
“Look, my brother can be a bit much sometimes and I didn’t have the energy to deal with him this morning. Then this morning quickly turned into this evening, and I figured it’s a lost cause now.”
Jake bit back a smile, “So, you thought ignoring him was your best option?” He thought back to his conversation with said pilot at work this morning and was surprised when he saw a new side of him.
Bradley at first apologized for “having to deal with you.” But once he realized he didn’t mind making sure you got home safe, he thanked him and said it won’t happened again. Jake brought up his sisters and how he would want to make sure that if they needed help, someone would be there regardless of how good of terms he might or might not be with that person. This seemed to clear the air between them a bit, making work a little easier.
“I know it isn’t exactly my smartest idea, but you can only be called irresponsible so many times before you lose it. Was he mad at you this morning?” Jake shook his head, “Thankful for getting you home. That’s all.” He watched you nod your head but could see you didn’t fully believe him.
“You pinky promise I didn’t make things worse for you at work?” Jake laughed at yet another pinky promise.
“Yes, I pinky promise. Have you eaten dinner? I have leftovers I was about to heat up.” And with that offering, it opened the door to a new friendship.
Jake often found himself answering the door to you, texting you at random hours of the day, and always making sure you made it home safely. The two of you quickly became good friends, making the random house visits become a normal thing. He started to look forward to you coming over, knowing that your carefree way of life would bring him some sort of interesting story.
Until tonight.
The knock on his door was a little later than normal. Typically, you made your way over right after he got home from work. But tonight, it was hours past that time. Jake opened the door expecting you to waltz right in, but instead you were stood rooted in place with your head down. Red flags instantly went up as he tried to figure out what was wrong.
“Hey darlin’. How about we head inside?” His heart dropped when you lifted your head up. A bruise was starting to form around your right eye and by the way you were holding yourself, he knew it was from something bad.
A million different scenarios went through his mind, each worse than the last. But until he could get to the bottom of it, he needed to make sure you were okay. The ever so confident girl he had come to adore was nowhere in sight as he fully took you in. Your arms were wrapped around yourself, almost as if you were trying to be as small as possible. Despite the swelling from the bruise, he could see redness around your eyes from crying.
He moved to the side as you slowly made your way in allowing him to close the door and give you his full attention. “Sweetheart, what happened?” You flinched as he moved his hand towards you, making him stop his motion and put his hand up.
“You know I would never hurt you. I just need to look at that eye.” He waited for you to give some sort of okay before he tried again.
“I had this date and he wanted to go back to his place. All I did was tell him no.” Your words came out as a near whisper, but Jake heard you loud and clear. He had to take a second to calm himself down to not scare you any further.
“Can I give you a hug?” His words surprised you. The two of you were never one to show affection but for him to ask permission before doing it solidified why you chose to come here. A small head nod and he pulled you into his chest.
“I am so sorry you had to go through that. No one should ever have to feel that kind of fear.” And that simple gesture pushed you to your breaking point. The tears started all over again, but this time you felt a sense of comfort as you let them out. He continued to hold you for a few minutes and when he let go, you could see just how much this had affected him too.
He couldn’t help but think about his sisters and what he would do if they were ever in this situation. To have someone hit them simply because they said no made him sick to his stomach. Which is why he knew he needed to let your brother know.
“Sit down on the couch and I’ll grab you some ice to help with the swelling.” You did as he said, and Jake walked into the kitchen to grab a bag of frozen vegetables for you. While he was in there, he sent a quick text to Bradley telling him he needed to come over now. Jake knew he would do it based on the zero interactions they have outside of work. Bradley would know something was wrong.
He walked back out and saw you curled up on the couch, wiping a few tears from your face. When he picked you up from that bar a few weeks ago, he never imagined the two of you would be here. But he was glad to be that person for you.
“Put this on your eye for fifteen minutes and it should help numb the pain a bit.” You took the bag from him and did as he said. “Also, your brother should be on his way.”
The look of panic crossed your face, and he knew there was a chance you didn’t want your brother to know.
“I know you don’t want him to find out, but this is something your brother would want to know. I promise you that.” He watched as you played with the ends of your hair.
“He is going to try and say it’s my fault.” Jake knew the two of you had a bumpy relationship with just how different your lives were. But he didn’t for one second think that your brother would ever blame you for this.
“Let me get one thing straight. This is by no way your fault. A man should never lay his hands on a woman no matter what the reasoning. You said no and he needed to respect that. End of story.”
A knock on the door made you jump, and Jake waited a second before he went to open it. He gave Bradley zero warning on what he was walking into, and you weren’t in the best headspace to begin with. He knew there was a chance this wasn’t going to go well, but your brother couldn’t be left out of this.
Jake opened the door and said, “Try and keep calm.” Bradley walked in and took one look at you and pushed Jake up the wall. “The fuck did you do, Bagman?” Jake knew the initial reaction was going to be rough, but he was hoping he would still be able to fly tomorrow.
You stood up and quickly tried to push your brother away. While he didn’t budge, you at least got his attention. “He didn’t do this. I didn’t know where to go so I came here.”
Bradley looked back to Jake for confirmation and then backed off. He ran a hand through his hair as he looked between the two of you. “Someone needs to start explaining. Now.”
Jake looked over to you to see what you wanted to do. He had no issue telling Bradshaw the whole story, but he didn’t want to step on your toes. You didn’t tell him the two of you were friends for a reason, and he wasn’t sure how much you wanted to explain.
You took a deep breath and tried your best to answer, “Ever since the night Jake gave me a ride home, we’ve been hanging out. He’s been a good friend, one that I probably don’t deserve, but someone I know I can go to. I had a date tonight and it clearly didn’t go well. I was going to go home but I knew it wasn’t the best idea. Here was the next best place.”
Bradley shook his head, “Why here? Why not to my house? You know you can come to me for anything.”
You looked down as you said, “You always say how reckless I am, and I didn’t want this to be another huge disappointment for you.”
You heard Bradley curse under his breath but couldn’t find the courage to look up. Which is why you let out a yelp when he put a hand on your shoulder. “I know I’m hard on you but that’s because you’re the only family I have left. I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t come to me for things. That’s the last thing I ever wanted. But this? This is something I need to know, and I would never say it’s your fault. Something like this shouldn’t have happened and you best believe I am going to kill the guy who did this to you.”
You gave him a small nod and he turned your head to get a better look at your eye. “This is going to be a nasty bruise. Did he get you anywhere else?”
Jake watched in curiosity when your eyes seemed to light up some. “No. I stopped him before he could do anything else. Didn’t hurt as bad this time either.” The two pilots were confused until Jake looked down at your hand to see some slight bruising.
“Looks like you got him good.” Bradley caught on but then asked what you meant by “this time.”
You looked over to Jake for help explaining. “Killer over here has a nasty right hook. Said you taught her how to throw it.”
Bradley slowly nodded his head and almost looked excited when he asked if you used it on Jake. “You wish.” He chuckled some and then looked over to his teammate. “Thanks for looking out for her. Clearly you are doing a better job at it than me.”
Jake smirked, “Just one more thing to add to the list that I’m better at.”
A/N: Thoughts? Still deciding if I am going to add another one of these to the mini-series. Thank you so so much for reading!! - C
Tag List: @rosiahills22 @sunlitsunflowers @dempy @mamaskillerqueen @luckyladycreator2 @atarmychick007 @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @topguncultleader @alilstressyandlotdepressy @avengers-fixation @chaoticcassidy @alldaysdreamers
#hangman x reader#jake seresin x reader#jake hangman x reader#jake hangman seresin#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x reader#topgun maverick#topgun#chelsea writes
303 notes
·
View notes
Text
ENHYPEN Imagines
enhypen jake mafia special
synopsis: married life with mafia boss jake sim
pairings: jake sim x reader
word count: 3k
warnings: violence, guns, killings and curses. (let me know if i missed some)
important note: if you haven’t read the one shot of jake sim, i suggest for you to read it first. you can find the fic › here
“It was really nice to see you in this meeting, Jake Sim.” the man across the long conference table says that caught Jaeyun’s attention. He leans comfortably to his swivel chair and smirks lightly.
“I couldn’t say the same since this meeting made me leave my family back in Korea.” Jake states without holding back. The man laughs finding how Jaeyun’s straightforward demeanor amusing.
This is one reason why he made it big at the mafia world. He was known for skills in business and how straightforward of a person he is.
“It was only for two weeks. I’m sure your wife can manage?” the teasing smile plastered on his face clicks something inside Jake, despite the uneasy feeling he kept his grin.
“Speaking of your wife, she’s very beautiful. I’ve seen her once at a gala gathering. Stunning lady.” his statement slowly made the grin on the mafia boss fade.
He knew very well that his wife is very beautiful. In fact, she’s the most gorgeous girl that walked in this earth. But as the possessive man that he is, he couldn’t let the diminutive hint of teasing over his tone go.
“She’s mine.” short, but the firmness in every words he emphasize made the smirk at the man in front of him wider.
He chuckles, triggering more of Jake’s temper. Sunghoon on the other hand enters the meeting room with curious eyes. Just by the look over his friend’s face, he knew something’s off.
“I never said she isn’t, Jake.” he raised his hand as a gesture of defeat, smirk still lingering in his ugly face.
Jaeyun fists balled tightly. “Come on, losen up Sim. You wouldn’t ruin this good friendship just for a girl, right?”
He didn’t waste any time and he stood up, his gun pointed right at the man. His men around instantly reacted and like him, guns are ready to shoot anytime. Sunghoon smoothly puts his hands inside his pocket and watches the scene unfold, a yawn escapes his mouth.
“I am not friends with you,” Jake started and with cold blank eyes he tilts his head. “and I can ruin anything for my wife.” he was about to pull the trigger of his gun, but then he felt something points beside his head.
The brother of the man in front of him stoods feets away, “Think about it first, Sim.”
Instead of being scared, Jake smirks and scoffed making the man offended. He was about to talk again, but a gun fire made him lose the ability to. His body fell cold to the ground, blood making a mess to carpeted floor.
The man in front of him was utterly surprised, mouth gapped at the unexpected scene unfolding.
Sunghoon sighed and lightly kicked the body of the guy he just shot dead. No remorse can be seen over his face, “He’s been getting on my nerves. That felt good.” he says like as if what he did is no illegal.
“T-The deal will be o-off if you kill me.” his stuttering almost made him laugh loudly. These type of people is what he hates the most.
His men were all stoned at their position, the intimidating stares Park Sunghoon sending him was enough for them to disobey their boss.
“Your company sucks anyway.” and without batting an eye, Jake clicked his gun ending the man’s life.
His head hit the table, eyes open and blood covering the wooden surface. Sunghoon chuckles, “I guess no deal then?”
Jaeyun sighs and casually grabs his thing. He walks towards the body of the man, he threw the papers they just signed. The white paper almost turns red because of his blood.
They walks outside the meeting hall and straight to the elevator.
“7/10 business deals.” Sunghoon sighs, “Good enough, right? How many count for you this trip?” he asks, eyes looking at his friend through the elevator’s reflection.
Jake sighs, “Five.”
He heard his friends low groan, “Damn. Mine’s ten, dude. My wife will kill me. Can you add that last kill to yours?” Sunghoon sounds stressed that made Jake scoff.
“You killed him tho?”
“To save you!”
“Thanks, brother.” Jake smirks and taps his friend’s shoulder. He shoved it off and clicked the side of his cheeks.
“Is our plane ready? I want to go home already.” just the thought of you makes Jake wants to teleport himself to your side. He misses you, your hugs, and kisses. He misses all of you. And of course your son.
“Its been waiting for an hour.”
“Great.” and just in time, the elevator door opens.
“Jahan, son?” you knocked over to his door twice and waits for a response. When you heard nothing, you furrowed your brows lightly before tilting your head curiously.
You were about to ask one of your maid if Jahan is down the stairs when he swiftly opened his door. The familiar messy hair of your son was the first thing that greets you, his big doe eyes looked sleepy and his plump reddish lips were pursed a bit.
“Jahan!” you happily greeted.
He went close to give you a short hug as a greetings, “Yeah, Mom?”
Staring at him you couldn’t believe how years passed by too quickly. You can still remember the time Jake saved you from your awful relationship, then you two fell in love and got married. Afterwards you had Jahan and he was so cute when he was a child. Now that he’s fifteen already, he grew into a gorgeous boy and grew a little cold.
“Your dad is almost here. We need to go down and welcome him.”
He nodded his head with no complain so you smiled and raised your hand to fix his messy hair. He moved his head away, grunting a little making you laugh and pout.
“Don’t grow up too fast, please.” you mumbled.
He smirks and fixed his hair himself. “Just give me a sibling already.”
Your eyes grew big at his sudden request. “Jahan Sim? Do you think its that easy?”
He shrugged his shoulders off, “I’ll meet you down in a minute.”
You let out a sigh and just nodded before starting going downstairs. Jake was in a business trip with Sunghoon in Italy so they’ve been gone for two weeks. He wanted so bad to take you with him, but you also have matters to take care of. You said both of you will manage two weeks being away from each other. Thinking of it now, you realized how much you miss your husband.
“Is everything ready for our lunch?” you asked one of your maids when she walks pass by holding a fresh flowers in a vase.
“Yes, Ma’am.” she smiles.
You nodded and fished your phone to go check if Jake messaged something. He did and said that he’s a minute away from your house and that he couldn’t wait to see you, hold you, kiss you and make love to you. A chuckle escaped from your lips because of your husband’s clingy side. Who knew a mafia boss as ruthless as him have this kind of personality? The people that fears him will be super thrilled if they’ve discovered this side of Jake Sim.
“Mr. Sim arrived, Madam.” your head lifts and you nodded as the maid opened the two big doors of your mansion.
Just in time, Jahan walks down from the stairs looking more decent for the arrival of his Father. You smiled and fixed his hair a bit more and this time he didn’t move.
“You missed Dad that much?” he teased and you just playfully glare at him.
Both of you walks outside and numbers of vehicles enters your property. Your husband’s car was the first to park not too far from where you are. He opened the door and gave his key to one of his men waiting for him.
His eyes directly went towards your direction and a small smirk appeared his lips. You waved and he started walking closer, taking off his coat.
“Baby,” he greeted and quickly pulled you into a hug.
“Me or Mom?” Jahan interrupts that made the both of you chuckle.
Jake pulls away and placed a kiss at your lips before turning towards your kid. He messed his hair, his eyes looking lovingly at his child. It made your heart full. These moments are the ones that makes you feel so contented. Seeing the two most important boys in your life is more than enough.
“How’s school, Jahan?” Jake asked while the three of you now enjoy eating lunch together after a while.
“It’s fine, Dad. I’m still part of the top students.” and that made your smile wider.
Jahan is an excellent student. His teachers often compliments him and tells you how great of a student he is. You and Jake don’t really push him to be an honor student or to be first to his class. All you want is for him to study, finish school and have some friends.
You and your husband noticed how he’s not very sociable to other people. He limits the one he talks and interacts with. It’s not a bad thing, but you still want him to have a normal childhood despite being the next heir to the Sim clan.
He does have friends. The kids of your friends is whom he only hangouts with. You are hoping he befriend kids that aren’t from mafia families. You are afraid he will grow up and get his father’s workaholic attitude.
“Do you think Jahan is all right?” you suddenly asked that night, while you two are already alone in your bedroom.
Jake was busy taking out and showing you the stuff he bought you. All the designer bags and clothes just proved how your husband only thinks of you during his business trip. Surely, you didn’t slip off his mind despite being away from esch other. You are very thankful for it and was enjoying, until Jahan went inside your mind.
Jake tilts his head, confused. “What do you mean, baby?” he asks and walked towards the single sofa near your bed. He pulls you closer and made you sat on his lap.
You draws in a big sigh and Jake’s eyes trails from your eyes down to your nose, your cupid’s bow and your lips. Your pretty lips that belongs to him. He smirked by the thought before he leans in and placed a soft gentle kiss at your shoulder blades, and then one over your neck, before putting his hand over it to pull your face down for a kiss on your lips.
A smooch sound errupts your quiet room. You pull away after a couple of seconds, Jake’s lips chasing after yours that made you chuckle. “Did you know what Jahan told me a while ago?”
Jake stared at you with his drunk-like eyes, he seemed uninterested about it and all he can think of is your lips. He tilts his head trying hard to focus on what you’re saying.
“What?‘” he asks gently.
“He said he wants a sibling.”
Now you totally caught his attention because a grin made its way towards your husband pretty face. He looked dangerously hot and the way his hands caress your sides aren’t helping at all. He was always touchy and clingy, nothing new to you, but the effect it gives you never changed.
“Really, huh?” he whispers teasingly and he leaned closer your body, making his lips touch your shoulder blades. His eyes looks up at you, filled with nothing but love and desire.
“Do you think we should start thinking about having our second baby?” you ask innocently. It was a big deal for you and you’ve always thought that being prepared is an important key point in building family.
“Do you want to have another baby?”
Your lips pursed, “Its not just what I want, Jake. We need to be deciding this together. Do you want another child?”
Jake’s lips settled at your skin, the heat sending it bothers you in a pleasing way. His eyes lightens at what you asked and the his eyes turned doe gave you an impression that he wants to tell you a lot of things.
He leaned away and then reached over your ears. The way his lips gently grazes your skin send thousand of volts in you. It made you feel things only him can do.
“Why don’t I just show you how much I want it?” he whispered in a husky voice before you yelped because he started carrying you towards your shared bed.
He moves his face and easily found your lips. Your arms locked around his neck trying to pull him as close as possible. Jake’s too eager on making you feel good. He was determined to express his overwhelming love for you through making love.
“I love you so much,” he says between the heated sweet kisses. “I am very excited to make our family bigger with you.” and he carefully pushes your delicate body to the bed as he hovers above you.
“Looks like some people’s having fun at a broad daylight!” Jace exclaimed as he stood over the railings, looking at whatever it is beneath them. From the third floor of their school building, the view of the small lounge where students can hang out is what you will see.
Jahan’s eyes follows what his friend was looking as he felt a presence beside him. He saw a couple of students below them at the lounge. Just by the mere look of it, they’re making fun of the girl in front of them.
She’s on her knees while the students around her obviously bullies her. Jahan silently watched and rested his elbows at the railings. He knew who the girl was. She’s from his class and often made fun of by his classmates. Seems like being a scholar surrounded by kids who thinks money is everything is a big struggle.
“Who are they even?” Jace asks again.
Alana, his twin sister joined them and as expected not happy with the scene.
“Some low class mafia kids! They annoy me so much!” her soft voice was distinct and very familiar with Jahan already.
The tall figure beside Jahan shifts his weight so he can face Alana better. “Why? What did they to you?” Sin’s question was like a trap. Jahan was sure that with Alana’s words, Sin will no doubt go there and mess with them.
Jahan smirks and looked back at the scene.
“Of course not to me! I meant to her,” she says, totally feeling bad. “to Amara.” she added.
‘Amara’ Jahan repeats to his mind. He doesn’t know what he thinks of her honestly. He doesn’t even know how he can remember her when he really don’t care about the people around him.
“Maybe they target her because she’s really beautiful.” she sighs, frustrated.
“Who?” Sin asks.
Alana rolls her eyes, “Are you not listening? I said Amara!”
Sin scoffed, “You’re prettier.”
Jahan shakes his head off, refusing to listen to his friend being too simp for Alana. He still cannot understand how can his friend be so rough towards other people and too soft for her. It’s funny for him. Hilarious.
“Well, she is pretty.” Jace leans over the railing with a grin on his face. Jahan glanced at his way and unconsciously send cold glares to his friend. He wasn’t aware of it at all and he can’t understand the emotion slowly sparkles inside of him.
“I heard they started that when she rejected Ken.”
The three boys looks at Alana and her stares down at the scene with sad eyes. Jace snorted and pinched his twin’s nose before he facing his back at the railing.
“I will reject Ken too if I were her. He’s pathetic.”
Jahan’s eyes slowly trailed back at them. Amara’s head is hanging low while one of the girls stood in front of her. She grabbed her hair, yanking it. Her friends laughed at the scene while they even record it using their phones.
The bell rang and their group of friends started going to their class. Sin has his arm around Alana’s shoulder as they talk about something. Jace’ beside Jahan, waving and winking at the girls they walk pass by. He rolls his eyes, used but still annoyed about his friend's antics.
Their day goes on normally, the young generation of famous mafia clans are unstoppable. Jahan’s group of friends are strict when interacting with other students, keeping their circle small and limited to people that have the same status as them.
“See you tonight at the party, boys!” Alana cheerfully waves at them while one of their men hold the car’s door for her.
“Send me a pic of your dress so I’ll match with you.” Sin requested that Alana just agreed on before entering their vehicle. Jace follows after sending a short salute to their friends.
Sin didn’t waste a time to ride his service after nodding at Jahan. One of his bodyguard held the door for him, he went inside both hands inside his pocket. As their vehicle left the vicinity of their school, Jahan’s mind went blank. It was the usual boring ride way home until his eyes caught a familiar face.
“Stop.” his words instantly made his driver stop their car. His eyes looked at the group of students by the side of the road. They were pushing the poor girl making her fell to the floor.
She looked pitiful, but Jahan isn’t someone who pity people. So when he went out and started walking towards that circle, he doesn’t fully understand why. His presence were quickly noticed by the crowd, eyes growing out of surprise and fear.
“J-Jahan!” one greeted.
He didn’t spare them a glance and went straight to cary the girl over his arms.
“Wait!” one stopped him that he obliged.
He craned his neck to look at her. She gulped, scared of his intimidating aura. The words she ought to say long forgotten.
“From now on if you mess with her, you mess with me.” and without saying anything nor waiting for their responses, Jahan walks towards their car while carrying the girl in his arms.
main master-list
mafia boss master-list
permanent tag-list:
@rubyanne @map-of-border @hwangjangmi @crjwon @candewlsy @love13tter @simpforniki @classicroyalty @bridgebridgebirdiebridge @hime98 @moonsclover @ddeonubaby @yeoungie @acciomylove @mymeloem19 @jvngw0n @dreamjerky @minamoons @clar-iii @herasalvatore @nyfwyeonjun @rcveribin @yizhoutv @one16core @soobin-chois @kyutiepeachy @chareadingpurposes @hwalllllllelujah @solelyenha @90sni-ki @nourhan-8 @nikipedia07 @yangbreads @drunkjazed @kimmchijjajang @hoonbrry @axartia @all4haru @sta-rie @hiqhkey @purplepuppychild @iceeee @wtfhyuck @tobiosbbyghorl @nikililmj @moonlightisland @ayayiiie @aeyeree @bitchychildmiracle
#enhypen#enhypenwriters#eeunoiaverse#eeunoia#eeunoiawrites#enhypen imagines#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen jake sim#enhypen jake x you#enhypen jake#enhypen jake imagines#enhypen yang jungwon#enhypen lee heeseung#enhypen jay park#enhypen park sunghoon#enhypen kim sunoo#enhypen nishimura riki
363 notes
·
View notes
Text
Miami
Pairing: Logan x reader
Summary: Logan finally asks the girl he has seen around Williams out
A/n: I kinda hate this, but here it is😬
requests open masterlist
———————————
“Y/n!” You boss calls your name from a few cubicles down. You were new to Willams, having just moved from America and the Baseball industry into Motorsport.
“What’s up?” You ask, leaning against the frame of her cubicle.
“Erica is out sick, can you do her sponsorship activation in an hour?” She asks, looking a little frazzled, holding out a folder with some papers to you. You nod and take them, reading the summary sheets on your way to the car.
Your first assignment working with the drivers, thankfully you are used to ad shoots. They were relatively easy, taking pictures for the portfolio, schmoozing the sponsor, and helping marketing keep things in order.
“Coffee?” One of the sponsorship interns offers you, and you furrow your brow.
“Mark, that’s not in your job description, you don’t have to bring me coffee,” you take it anyway.
“BOGO deal. Figured you would like it since you weren’t planning on being here,”
“Favorite intern, right here. I’ll hook you up wherever you want to go after this,” you laugh, navigating through the site. Mark reads the briefs you brought along as you introduce yourself to the media team and the sponsors.
“Hi, I’m Logan,” One of the drivers introduces himself to you, his American accent making your ears perk up.
“Y/n, nice to meet you,” you extend your hand, your mother taught you manners.
“Georgia?” He shakes your hand, curious on placing the accent.
“North Carolina born and raised,” you smile, ignoring the pleasant warmth of his hand.
“Not many Americans around here. What do you do?” He asks. It’s a relief to you, everyone assumes that you are a sports journalist or work in marketing, but he had the decency to ask.
“Corporate partnerships. Getting the team money so you can race,” you explain briefly.
“That’s so cool, I wish I could ask more, but Albono is calling me over,” he waves goodbye.
“You’re in looooove,” Mark teases, standing beside you.
“Shut up. Offer rescinded,” you blush slightly as the blond driver glances back at you.
A few months later you are in America for the Miami GP. Williams did a competition with one of your accounts, so you flew in a week ahead to make sure everything was set, and the working remote was a plus. One day you took advantage of an old connection and got a free ticket to the Marlins game, and got to tag along with them as they worked. The real bonus was the better food and suites, but you didn’t expect to see a certain blond driver throwing the first pitch.
He wasn’t expecting to see you either. Ignoring the marketing intern, he jogs over to where you and your friend are talking.
“Logan! Hi,” You smile, quickly turning to introduce him to your friend, but Logan is one step ahead of you.
“You are here early,” he smiles back at you.
“My account is sponsoring a VIP trip to Miami contest for Williams, so I’m making sure everything is ready to go,” you explain and he nods.
“Have you seen your family?”
“Yeah, they flew down the other day, I got them grandstand tickets,”
“What are their names? I can get them a paddock pass for FP1 and FP2,” Logan says and the marketing intern looks antsy beside him.
“Here’s my number, text me,” you hand him your business card and apologetically smile at the intern.
For some reason, it didn’t take a second thought to accept Logan’s invite. You had the day off tomorrow, your parents were busy, and there was really no reason not to. Your bag was packed and you were in Logan’s pickup truck before you knew it. The radio is on the top 100 station, and the windows rolled down slightly on the highway, the ocean air washing over you both.
“What do you miss most about America while in England?” Logan asks and you pause for a second.
“Peanut butter and jelly’s, they don’t taste the same. What about you?”
“That’s not what I miss most, but it’s a valid answer. I think I miss the Florida beaches, especially at dawn,” he says, letting a calm silence settle in.
“I would agree with that, but make it North Carolina,”
“Thanks for agreeing to come with me, the house feels so empty,” Logan looks at you. You nod, pushing some stray hairs out of your face.
“I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to be shown around by a local,” you grin, locking eyes briefly with him.
“I know this great place for dinner,” he says as he turns off the highway. You learned about him on the drive, including that he owns a beach house and doesn’t live with his parents.
You both walk into the small restaurant, his hand instinctually going to yours before he quickly stops before you notice. You don’t see the way his heart races when you smile at him. You don’t realize that he’s noticed you around the track and sponsorship events, and how he finally built up the courage to introduce himself. He is so excited to take you to a restaurant that specializes in southern comfort food.
“Logan, you didn’t,” you gasp as you look over the menu, your heart swelling.
“I thought you probably missed a taste of home,” he smiles sheepishly.
“You are the best,” you quickly decide on your childhood favorite. The both of you get to know each other more over the meal and flirt a bit while you’re at it.
“I forgot how good that restaurant is,” Logan says as you both walk out of the restaurant, his arm gently going around your shoulder. You blush, but make no attempt to move it. The ride to his house is short.
“Get changed, Logan, we are going for a beach walk,” you tell him after he shows you the guest room. No more than five minutes later, you are both barefoot on the beach, you in a Williams hoodie and shorts, Logan in an unbuttoned shirt and shorts.
You don’t really know when your hands first brushed and connected, but you didn’t attempt to stop it. Logan admired you against the moonlight and soft crashing waves.
“Lo?” you ask as he seems elsewhere.
“Can I kiss you?” he asks softly, turning towards you. All you do is nod, his soft lips brushing against yours as you pull him closer, properly kissing him.
“Wow,” you breathe, a blush covering both of your cheeks.
“I guess I’m not immune to your southern charm,” he teases, causing you to giggle.
“I guess not,” you agree. The walk back to the house is comfortable, and he kisses you goodnight outside your bedroom door. You wake up early for a run, quietly heading downstairs only to find a shirtless Logan doing the same thing.
“Morning run?” He asks with a smile.
“Yeah, you too?” You ask back and he nods. You both finish tying your sneakers and put on headphones. He leads your morning run, knowing the streets better than you. You both stop into a coffee shop a few blocks away for breakfast before heading home.
“I’m gonna shower then head out to the beach if you want to join me later,” Logan tells you before heading to his room. Once you finish your coffee, you do the same. There are two towels out on the beach in front of Logan’s house, Logan occupying one. After grabbing your book and applying sunscreen, you join him.
“Blue is a good color on you,” he compliments your light blue bikini.
“What are you reading?” You ask him as you lay down.
“The Great Gatsby,” he observes your book cover.
“Good choice,” you hum as you get immersed in the book. Fifteen minutes later, you see Logan set his book down out of the corner of your eye. He rolls over and you quickly bookmark your book.
“Do you know how hard it is to read while next the a beautiful woman?” Logan asks and your lips quirk up into a smile.
“How hard?” you ask, smiling as he pulls you closer to him, happily kissing you.
“Logan, look at this,” you show him your phone, as you lean over the kitchen island. He sets down his water bottle and takes a closer look.
“I’m surprised they even care about me,” he says, brushing it off. There is a public beach a few houses down, so it isn’t uncommon for someone to stray off it.
“I didn’t think about what would happen within Williams,” you sit on one of the stools. Logan moves to sit beside you, grabbing your hand.
“It’s fine, we can fill out the necessary paperwork. There isn’t a conflict of interest, we are in the same department, it will be okay,” he reassures you. You peck his lips and sigh.
“I’m sorry someone saw us, that makes it harder for you,” you frown. His hand moves up to your cheek, rubbing soft circles with his thumb.
“I’m not. I’m happy to be seen with you,” he smiles before going to start lunch.
“I’m glad I met you,” you tell him, happy to be with someone who isn’t afraid to be in public.
“Me too. Would it be too early to call you my girlfriend?” Logan asks, finishing the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches you both have been craving.
“Normally yes, but with you, I would be more than happy to be your girlfriend,” you squeeze his hand. Logan kisses you briefly before starting to eat.
A few hours you make your way back to Miami, Logan having a team meeting that evening. The two of you didn’t see each other much the rest of the week until free practice.
You lead your parents into the Paddock area, taking them to Williams hospitality. You had told them about Logan and they were very excited to potentially meet the driver.
“Hi Babe,” Logan hugs you when he enters hospitality, stopping to say hi before grabbing coffee.
“Hi Lo, ready to meet the parents?” You ask nervously, he kisses your forehead. The rest of the weekend flies by, he charms your parents, you meet his parents, and before you know it you are in England again.
By the time Austin rolls around, you both are inseparable. The team finds it cute how Logan will follow you around like a puppy dog when you are at the GPs and he is free.
“I’m so glad I saw you at the Marlins game,” Logan whispers, his arms wrapped around you.
“I love you,” you whisper back, tilting your head to kiss you.
“I love you too,”
224 notes
·
View notes
Text
Loyalties
Kim HongJoong x (f) Detective Reader
Summary: He held her itty bitty heart in his bloody palm and she knew that, but did she love him enough to let him win his little game everytime? Did he love her enough to risk her safety?
Genre: Hurt/Comfort Fluff
Warnings: Joong's a perv (Idk okay), mention of gunshots, strong language.
Word Count: 2.5K
Read Time: 12 min
Rating: nc-17
Networks: @cromernet @k-labels
She hated him, no she despised him, no she loathed that disgusting, horrid, weasel of a man. She despised his cheap ass fur coat, his unnecessary bling and those pants! Her blood would boil at the mere name of that demonic, immature moron, she despised every little detail about him; his angular face, his sharp eyes that would glimmer like the stars swirling with pure mischief, his light chuckle that would ring in her ears like the voice of an angel, oh and she really, really, abhorred the way he'd look at her, with the warmth of pure love - NO!
Mentally slapping herself she cleared her throat, rehearsing the first stanza of hatred that ran hot in her veins for the infamous leader of MATZ. Technically it was just two men, boys who were usually called in for petty crimes turned into men who were now challenging the system- a knock-off of any vigilante out there. Batman, Daredevil, even the Punisher, see these men had class and style- MATZ, well, they had style...but perhaps the fact that explaining how her once high school friends are now notorious criminals or wannabe Robinhood would be a bit difficult. Perhaps this little fact only added to her current presiding problem, one she had mentioned to her lover, explicitly mentioning her concerns; for the safety of his life and her professional career. Once again, that bastard let his deflated ego in the way, her words bouncing off it without ever reaching his useless, dysfunctional brain.
So, here she stood, in front of her captain, watching him go on and on about the need for order and justice, the need for law and police work, and more importantly the need for loyalty. Loyalty, a trait that was of importance, though her's was being questioned.
"Where do your loyalties lie detective?"
"With the force, Sir" With a salute she looked dead ahead, not at him, no, through him, trying to figure out the answer to this very question. Where did her loyalties lie?
"Then how is it, you've been leading the task force to capture MATZ for three years and each time you are close they miraculously slip away!" his large, meaty hands slammed on the table, her partner beside her flinching, though not a jerk left her bones. Instead, her eyes flickered to his face, instantly scanning his form, this man looked like anything but eh definition of justice, safety and security - if anything, he looked more like a criminal than that moron of hers.
"I assure you, Sergeant, my loyalties lie where my heart has ever since I was a little girl. My friendship with Joong- " pausing she cleared her throat, ignoring the way he raised a brow at he before glancing at her partner as if hinting at something "MATZ, both Kim Hongjoong and Park Seonghwa ended as soon as they started this life of crime."
"I don't trust you an ounce detective, not one bit." slumping back in his seat he stared up at her, "But the Captain trusts ya for some reason, believes you a good egg- I just think you're a cracked egg, too far gone for anything else- so I'll tell you this, I'm on to ya, I'll be watching you, listening to you, from the moment you step into his precinct ill be watching your every move."
.
"Well, that was something." Jongho muttered, closing the door behind him, "Do you...want to grab a bite or something?"
"I'm good." giving him a small smile she sat back at her desk, sifting through the papers, not a word written processing in her already occupied mind. The traffic of thoughts only stopped when a hand rested on hers, "I may be younger than you, but we're partners, and my mentor has always told to me trust my partner. "
His soft words, followed by his cute smile had her sigh in defeat, sitting back down and nodding, "Some mentor you have, huh?"
"She's the best of the best." Puffing up his chest with pride he placed his hands on her desk, "Now, what can I do, to make my mentor feel better."
"Nothing, really Jong, I- " her words caught up as she noticed something. Her eyes caught the way her system was on, the screen lit up, the mouse icon moving on its own, she was being - shit. Instantly reaching for the cable, she pulled the plug on the CPU.
"Um...did you see what I just saw?"
"Jongho, get Yunho and tell him to track whatever the hell that was."
"Yes, Ma'am."
.
The door slammed shut, the darkness just adding to her anger, of course, he wouldn't turn on the lights, no lamp or bulb, choosing to sit on the small balcony - maybe she should just push him off, the idea extremely tempting at this point.
Placing her badge and gun on the table she made her way to the small balcony at the other end of the living room, making sure to turn on a lamp on the way out. Sliding the door open she sighed, the cool breeze prickling her warm skin, a shiver running down her spine as she stepped out completely, barely missing the small table as she made her way to the seat her boyfriend was currently sprawled on, limbs extending like the roots of the potted plants behind him. His head lay against the cushioned headrest, turning his head to face her, an easy smile making its way to his face, the warm glow of the fairy lights from the wall beside him only adding onto his beautiful face, making him appear oh so soft and lovable.
"Hey babe." his words barely above a whisper.
"Joong~" she sang, slowly getting on top of him, making herself comfortable until she was fully straddling him, his hands automatically finding their place on her back, holding onto her tight, her arms loosely hanging around his neck, "Did you miss me?"
"You bet your pretty ass, I did," he mumbled, eying the way she moved closer, her chest pressed against his, fingers playing with the hair at the base of his head.
"Aw~ baby" she pouted before gripping onto the ends of his hair and tugging hard, his head tilting back as a whimper escaped him, damn, his girl was in the mood- or so he thought.
"I didn't you f*cker." her grip tightened, tilting his head further back with another tug, his own fingers digging into her sides, trying to keep some form of control.
"Why~" whining with his eyes closed, he treasured the burning sensation, his princess knew how to play and he liked it so very much.
"Did you get Youngie to tap into my system? Do you want me to get fired? Or do you want me to shoot you in the d*ck?"
"Aw baby~ it's just work." his eyes finally snapped open, standing up without warning as a high-pitched squeak left her lips, arms instantly locking around his neck, much like her legs around his waist, staring up at him wide-eyed.
A chuckle echoed in the dark of the night as his hands finally gripped her close, "Don't worry doll, I'd never let ya fall." Walking them into the apartment he looked down at her frowning, "Did someone piss off my princess ?"
"Joong, " sighing she glanced away, letting him carry her around like she weighed nothing, like she was a mere muse he was addicted to, clinging onto him, onto his fur coat- wait God, he was wearing the orange one, she hated it.
"Yes, love?" slowly setting her down on the bed he shrugged off his jacket, going to the cupboard to hang it, his precious baby wasn't cheap!
"I can only protect you if you trust me, but if you hack into my system or pull shit like that and they fire me, who knows what- I- I just can't lose you" her words clogging up in her throat, the burning sensation all too evident behind her eyes, " what I mean is" sighing she paused to rephrase, his casual attitude just adding to the frustration as he walked towards her, swaying like a cat, stopping right in front of her sitting form, "Hongjoong, I'm serious, with me, it is just a game of cat and mouse but if I get replaced, if its someone else, it'll be serious and they might even-"
"Shhh..." placing a finger on her lips he hushed her, his hand caressing her cheek, admiring how she nuzzled into his palm, "You know love, " he whispered leaning closer till their noses touched, "I am a very dangerous man, I am more than just your lover."
"But-"
"I'll lay off your system," brushing his lips against hers, "Detective." Pulling back he smiled down at her, admiring how she looked up at him with teary eyes filled with nothing but love and worry, letting his intrusive thoughts win and squishing her cheeks with one hand, laughing at her whining in protest.
His other hand pulled out something from his back, showing her the shiny metal toy of his, "If it were someone else, other than you, that f*cker would already be dead, you're the only reason why I haven't torn this system down to shreds." with one last kiss to the forehead, her lovable idiot of a man once again promised to stay out of her way, at least for a while.
.
"This is team two, The ground floor is clear."
He did it again, he must've done it again, no way in hell did he not do it.
"Team three reporting from floor 1, all clear."
"Boss" Jongho mumbled beside her, turning off his comm, "Did you tell him?"
Sighing she adjusted her bulletproof west as the two walked into the basement, "Yes, I told that bastard, my system wasn't tapped, I double-checked." Of course, her junior knew about her little relationship, she did teach him that a mentor and mentee should have no secrets, even ones like these. It didn't take him long to accept it either, saying something along the lines of, "Is he really that bad if he's fighting against a system that has failed us?"
"Because Yunho just texted me saying your phone was tapped instead. "
"I hate him."
"Team two reporting, roof's all clear boss."
"This doesn't look good," he mumbled, trailing hot on her heels as the two entered the basement, a parking lot with two entrances. They were going to split up, "We can't go empty-handed, we need something at least."
"I know. Let's split up, and be on your guard."
With that the two parted ways, her footsteps echoing across the empty parking lot, the scraping of her boots muffling the jingle of her gun, one that was aimed and ready to shoot. A low chuckle caught her ear.
"STOP RIGHT THERE." She yelled, turning to aim at the fool, his smirk pissing her off even more, "Don't.Move."
"Hey doll." the deep voice from beside her alerting her senses, "You should go check up on your partner, baby bear's knocked out like Goldilocks." Seonghwa chuckled, making his way to stand next to Hongjoong who had his hands up for a show, the smug look never leaving his face.
"Aw, come on detective, just let us go and we can call it a night."
A loud bang, followed by a series of bangs, resonated across the entire parking lot.
"ALL UNITS TO THE BASEMENT, NOW!"
.
"You okay?" she asked, pressing the icepack against the bump on his head, "Told you to wear the helmet."
"Are YOU okay?" he asked, others around them looking at their head's bulletproof jacket, staring at the four shots right across it. Though that's not what he meant, he was definitely asking about something else.
"Yeah, great actually." Patting her head she turned around when someone called her name, eying the office who handed her a phone, "It's the sergeant, detective." rolling her eyes she pressed it against her ear, "Hello?"
"Detective. I heard about the encounter but didn't think you had it in ya to shoot him. Glad the bulletproof vest worked though, you're a good agent, we can't risk losing. I take it back, you have my trust and support. Get home safe."
.
Slamming the door shut she sighed in relief, kicking off her shoes she made her way into the living room, oh? The lights were on, what a pleasant surprise, wonder what happened?
"Hey honey how was work?" she smirked, leaning against the wall, arms crossed as she watched her shirtless boyfriend glare back at her, both ignoring the other man in the room who was tending to the gunshot wound.
Raising a brow, he scoffed, "Oh great love I got shot today by a bitch-"
"I'm still holding my gun Joong, don't test me"
Slamming his hand on his thigh he yelled "YOU SHOT ME- you SHOT ME IN THE SHOULDER!" hissing in pain as Seonghwa clicked his tongue, mumbling a stay still as he patched up the hole. This was all he could do before Yeosang could come over and have a proper look at it.
"YOU TAPPED MY PHONE"
"WELL YOUR SERGEANT WAS GETTING TOO COZY WITH YA- man's a perv, I know it" he spat back, shoving Seonghwa out of the way with his free hand, earning a curse in return.
"HONGJOONG, HE WAS DOUBTING MY LOYALTIES!" she explained and pointed at herself, "AND YOU SHOT ME TOO!"
A dramatic gasp echoed across the room followed by a hand placed on his chest - his heart, mind you-, causing Seonghwa to roll his eyes, here we go again, he should've never befriended these two in high school. Mumbling to himself about their idiocy he walked out to the balcony, deciding to smoke instead of listening to these idiots.
"First of all, YOU shot ME first and" he yelled and turned to point at the balcony, "That motherf*cker shot you, not me! I agree four times was a bit excessive but hey you were the one who kept going on and on about us being too soft on ya." Turning to her with raised brows, "And loyalties? Babe, come on, I mean, you and I- like we like- I've been in you multiple times, day or night and-"
"CAN YOU NOT!" she screamed, gesturing at the open door of the balcony.
'I don't care, pretend I'm not here, that's what I'm pretending too!' was all they could hear from the balcony, causing her face to resemble a tomato, though her shameless boyfriend was as nonchalant as ever, continuing his little speech, half naked in the living room.
"All I'm saying is, I don't question your loyalties because I know you've got the hots for me like I completely get it, I'd wanna sleep with me too, but your creep of a boss knows his soggy sausage aint worth your time and-"
"I should've aimed for your d*ck"
"Would you really though? Cause I know you loyal to my d-"
"And this conversation is over." with that she stomped away, speed walking when she heard the loud cackles of Seonghwa followed by the laughter of her own idiot of a man. No, boys, they were still the same shameless teenage boys, she accidentally had the unfortunate fate of meeting in school, when she was nothing but a victim of loneliness, turning her grey dull days into chaotic, colourful ones pulled out of the ass of the rabbit in Alice in Wonderland.
#cromernet#k labels#hongjoong x you#hongjoong x reader#kim hongjoong#hongjoong#ateez scenarios#ateez x reader#matz#ateez matz#ateez fluff#matz mv#park seonghwa#jongho x reader#choi jongho#choi san#Wooyoung#Yunho#kang yeosang#Mingi#hongjoong x y/n#female reader#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios#Matz has got me in a chokehold#atiny#break the wall#ateez kq
227 notes
·
View notes
Note
I LOVEEEE DOG GALLIGAR I NEED MORE
please read the rules and regulations next time anon cuz I'll ignore asks that don't follow format. Anyways I'm a big gallagher simp so I can't ignore a humble request. here's a quick sketch of farmer!reader and (yandere utc) dog!gallagher + extra brainrots cooked up 1 AM cuz I just finished a school output
Domestic Fluff/Crack:
You rarely buy chocolate after taking Gallagher in. Not because you're worried that the canine might randomly eat some and get a "lethal" dose— but because he simply looks disgruntled whenever you take a bite. He went on quite a long tangent about how it doesn't taste that great and you would much rather not hear it a second time.
In your first week together, you might've gone overboard and bought every dog care product you could think off. Gallagher heartily laughed when he saw you bought one of every shampoo— and then his heart dropped when you pulled out a pet razor next in the shopping bag. Needless to say, his silence saved his skin. Or well, in this case, fur.
You often pondered over the ethics of having a half-human in your home. It's not that you treat him poorly or bar him from opportunities elsewhere, but you remind him from time to time that he can leave the farm if he wants to. In which, he would either a) put a hand on your shoulder and earnestly decline or b) joke about how he's going to bite you if you ask again.
Speaking of jokes, he never tells you about his past— which was a decision you respected. However, it's become an inside joke for the two of you to make up his backstory and how you met. When your traveler friend Boothill once came to visit, you both told him that Gallagher was actually an ex-police dog who decided he's tired of snitching where the drugs were when "it's always hidden in cushions anyways". When the local innkeeper Siobhan asked where did he come from, he said he was once a bartender— and you made a convincing follow-up that it was the reason behind his distaste for SoulGlad. He even shocked everyone when he had the skills to back that lie up. You swear that every time, the story and people's reactions become more and more priceless.
Yandere:
But not everyone is elusive of his true nature.
That's why he hates whenever your neighbor "Sunday" visits.
Gallagher doesn't want it to happen, but that man seems to always discern the facade he's putting on. He doesn't like it at all. He always had to hold back a sharp stare and a growl whenever he's around. But that man. That hawk...
Why does he always cling to you like a pest?
He knows- he knows you're friends with him and that Robin girl since childhood- but shouldn't those numerous interactions suffice? Why does HE keep stealing your time together? That Sunday is a hybrid himself— he should know that someone has already marked this household territory.
Still, that bird perches on your porch, greeting you with a smile that you'll reciprocate. But the cunning glimpses he sends Gallagher indicates that they equally find the other person bothersome.
"What're you doing here?" Gallagher scoffed. "Don't you have a Family to go back to?"
Sunday smiled politely, though with how his hands are always hidden from the dog's view, he can only guess that it's clenched in a tight fist.
"And you don't?"
"(Y/n) is my Family."
"Before they were yours, they were mine."
That caught Gallagher's attention.
... Isn't that technically the truth? Even without papers, isn't the bond you, Robin, and that fiend share essentially a strong familial bond? He had only heard snippets in town and from yourself, but you three had known each other almost since birth.
So... What does that make him?
A pet?
A hound?
A friend?
A partner?
Or a mere passing memory?
Despite these thoughts, he steeled his resolve and shook his head, subconsciously holding his neck. There's no collar. Nothing that physically binds him to you. And, for reasons he didn't quite placed at the time, he hated the sensation of freedom.
He hated being free.
He hated being detached from you.
"With what to prove, huh?" Gallagher snarled. "Leave. They're asleep. Don't bother them today— or ever again."
He volunteered to patrol for the next nights to hide his insomnia. Gallagher did not understand where most these emotions stemmed from. Why would he wish to be shackled when he just got himself out or a cage? You were kind enough to supply him with basic necessities and allow him to do whatever he wants after work is done— so why this emptiness?
But when he came back home at dawn after unlocking the door with the spare key you gave him— he got his answer.
He felt his feet drag him to your door. Before he could even process what was happening, Gallagher was seated at a nearby chair, tenderly caressing your face.
This was the answer he was looking for. The raison d'etre. All resolved under three words:
"You... I want you."
And for a while, that was enough.
#$ support conversations#I am not a furry i am not a furry i am not a#$ brynn's papers#hsr gallagher#hsr gallagher fanart#honkai star rail#gallagher x reader#yandere gallagher x reader#gallagher x you#yandere gallagher#yandere hsr#yandere male#yanderecore#yandere imagines#tw yandere#yandere hsr x reader#yandere honkai star rail x reader#yandere honkai star rail#yandere headcanons#yandere honkai#yandere sunday#haha i slipped that in didn't i :))
217 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐒
⌇ feat. itoshi rin
⌇ premise. your boyfriend is a liar with a sweet tooth
⌇ cw. GN reader, rin & reader are aged up (20+), profanity. not sponsored by haribo !
Orange gummy bears are the bane of your existence.
Tart with a bitter aftertaste, the revolting flavor is enough to trigger your gag reflex. Fortunately for you, they're Itoshi Rin's favorite. It's the reason I'm dating you, you joke sometimes, only to be scoffed at. But despite the cold glares, he secretly enjoys it when you hand-feed him the orange jellies.
It's a ritual between you and him that started in high school. The two of you were seatmates, to Rin's delight. You were pretty, he had always thought. Sitting next to you allowed him to sneak glances at your face, admiring the curve of your nose and the plush of your lips. But despite the close proximity, he could never muster the courage to say a word to you.
It had started off as an awful, rainy day. Rin had slept through his alarm, missed his morning bowl of ochazuke, and sprinted to catch his bus in the rain. Soaked and hungry, he opened his emergency pack of Haribo gummy bears and snuck bites of the colorful jellies during algebra class to tame the loud beast in his stomach.
He had been biting the head of an orange gummy when a piece of paper landed on his desk.
the orange ones are the worst! it read, once unfolded. Cautious teal eyes flicked up to meet your unabashed staring, and Rin felt his heart skip a beat at your teasing smile. And when the teacher turned around to face the blackboard, the paper was flicked back onto your desk.
everyone knows the white gummies are the grossest. You laughed quietly at the note, oblivious to the way his eyes lingered on your lips, before scribbling something back.
if you don't like the white ones, could i take them? they're my favorite :3
And so on a slightly less awful, rainy day, Itoshi Rin found himself sharing gummy bears with you in the back of his algebra classroom.
It was your shared sweet tooth that brought you together. The once awkward silence between classes was filled with your bright laughter and the crinkle of the cellophane gummy packet that he would always split with you. As the school days flew by, Rin realized that he wanted to share more than gummies with you. His first kiss, his body, his cold, guarded heart—he wanted you to have it all. And so when the last bittersweet days of youth came to an end, he asked you to be his.
That was years ago. Now, Itoshi Rin is everything you could ask for in a boyfriend. He brews your favorite coffee every morning, does your skincare routine for you when you fall asleep on the couch, and hides you in the safety of his chest when days get difficult. He does his best to hold his sharp tongue and soften his personality when he's with you. He marks your birthday and anniversary in big red letters on the calendar on his wall.
So when you storm into the living room, your face livid, Rin has no idea what he's done wrong.
"Itoshi fucking Rin!" you seethe, your arms crossed over your chest. From the couch, Rin gapes at you in confusion, trying to remember if he accidentally washed your white underwear with the colored clothes again.
"What? What did I do?" An ungodly squeak leaves his mouth as you push him back by the shoulders, clambering into his lap.
A sharp finger pokes his chest. "You're a little liar," you spit, "I stopped by the grocery store with Bachira to get you gummy bears and you know what he told me? He said that you hate the orange flavor the most!"
Rin snaps his eyes shut and groans, cursing his friend for being so mouthy. "Hear me out—," he tries to explain, but you slap your hand over his mouth, his cheeks stinging from the impact.
"Don't even try," you hiss at him, expression petulant. "I'm not even mad that you lied. I'm mad that you let me feed you the disgusting flavor." You push off of his lap, storming away to your bedroom. The door slams and Rin flinches at the sound.
A moment of bewildered silence passes before he slowly makes his way to the bedroom. Gently opening the door, he peers inside to see you on your bed, wrapped in your duvet. The bed dips under his weight as he sits on the edge, a hand coming up to rub your back.
"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I don't hate the orange ones, I promise. They're just not my favorite."
The bundle of blankets on the bed rustles as you slide your hand out, dropping something in his lap. The cellophane of the opened Haribo gummy bear packet crinkles as Rin peers inside it.
"I ate all the orange ones for you," you sniff, poking your head out of the blankets. "I hated every second of it. I hate you."
Rin laughs before pressing a kiss to your forehead.
#itoshi rin x reader#itoshi rin fluff#itoshi rin scenarios#itoshi rin drabble#blue lock x reader#blue lock scenarios#rin itoshi#itoshi rin#blue lock imagines#blue lock fluff#bllk x reader
628 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
4chino
that boy's dressed like a school shooter
obsessedobsesser
Good Omens Ruined My Life
keith-toons
Sin título
stripsearchhell
Stripsearchhell
rw494969
Untitled