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oofthwoods · 1 month

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STEPS TO YOU! ── ˙ ̟ lando norris !!

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 :: lando norris hates the idea of soulmates. for him, it's hard to see everyone in his life with a matching tattoo, or a timer, or the inability to see colors, while he has to be content with the fact that he may never find his perfect match. that is, until he starts to see mysterious footprints around the paddock, hinting at a path he never expected.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 :: this is my confession that my favorite soulmate!aus are the ones where they don't think they have one. the sadness of thinking you are not destined for a great love only to find out that there's someone out there for you??? mwah chefs kiss

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 :: to be added.

LANDO NORRIS WAS A ROMANTIC AT HEART.

He had a secret love for romantic comedies. Watching couples overcome comical obstacles before finding their happy ending always brought a smile to his face. Though he would never admit it, he found joy in the cliched plots and endearing moments portrayed on screen.

The Brit also enjoyed weddings. Family, friends, or mere acquaintances— it didn't matter. To him, the ceremony was a tangible display of true love that existed beyond the silver screen and scripted Hollywood romances.

Despite everything, Lando knew that he would never experience anything like it. Everyone around him seemed to have a sure sign that they were meant for great love: Carlos with his past life visions shared with his beloved, George with his key pendant symbolizing his destiny, and even Oscar, who occasionally vanished, leaving a girl in his place. But not Lando. No visions, no tattoos, no words etched on his arm foretelling what his soulmate would say upon their first encounter. He felt like an outsider in a world where everyone seemed to have found their perfect match, while he knew he would be alone forever.

As Lando's realization sunk in, it was an emotional rollercoaster. He wasn't just a late bloomer; he wasn't meant to blossom at all. In his childhood innocence, he embraced his supposed independence and declared that girls were gross and he could live without someone by his side forever. But as adolescence took over, he found himself increasingly on the sidelines, watching as close friends shared stories of connection and love, filling him with a painful mix of envy and despair.

Every tale of someone else's romance felt like a dagger to the heart, a wound that refused to heal. Lando couldn't help but wonder what he had done to deserve this solitary fate in a world where everyone else seemed to find their soulmates.

Occasionally, he gazed up at the dark expanse above, yearning for solutions. Had the universe overlooked him or was love just not in his destiny? Some claimed that soulmates were like atoms connected since before the Big Bang, their bond enduring despite eons passing. But what did this mean for Lando? Was he destined for a solitary life even before the cosmos took shape?

As an adult, Lando struggled to convince himself that he had come to terms with his fate. He told himself over and over again that finding true love was possible without a soulmate being involved. It didn't have to be some cosmic arrangement. Yet, deep down, even as he tried to comfort himself with this reasoning, he couldn't shake the desire for something more. He yearned to be uniquely crafted for someone, to be cherished wholeheartedly despite his imperfections and weaknesses.

Lando shook his head, pulling himself out of his thoughts and back into the present moment. The unforgiving Melbourne sun beat down on him, its golden rays spreading across the circuit. Heat radiated all around him, almost suffocating in its intensity. He cursed his decision to wear an orange hoodie that morning as a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead. Walking from the entrance to his garage, he couldn't escape the discomfort caused by the heat. The thick fabric clung to his skin, trapping him in its grasp as the temperature continued to rise.

Beside him, Oscar emanated an infectious energy. The pilot was fully immersed in the atmosphere of his home country's race, evident through his beaming smile. Despite the hustle and bustle around them, they maintained a calm demeanor, as if they were in a world of their own, oblivious to the cameras of the photographers trying to capture every moment.

Lando observed Oscar's anxious glances, as if he was searching for a particular person.

Deciding to break the silence, Lando asked, "Has your family arrived?"

Oscar's mind seemed elsewhere as he replied, "Oh, yeah. They're here. I'm just looking for someone else."

Someone else. Lando's brow furrowed as he thought about the mysterious bond between Oscar and his soulmate. Every now and then, without warning or explanation, the Australian would switch places with the girl he was connected to. Initially, Lando feared that this could happen during a race and result in a disastrous outcome. However, he soon realized that the universe was smart enough to only make these switches when both were safe.

"You met her?" Lando finally asked, curious about Oscar's soulmate. He looked at him with confusion before smiling sadly.

"Not yet, and she's not the one i'm looking or," Oscar replied, bringing a small sense of relief to Lando. He immediately felt guilty for wishing that others wouldn't find their soulmates, knowing it was selfish and petty.

Additionally, Lando could recall a peculiar incident from the previous year, when Oscar suddenly disappeared, and a girl had surprisingly turned up in the McLaren garage, clad in pajamas and exuding an unusual calmness about the situation. He remembered her as a charming and witty girl, and the thought that Oscar had someone special to share his life with brought a comforting warmth to Lando's heart, though it was tinged with a hint of jealousy.

"I have a friend coming over today," Oscar interjected, breaking through Lando's thoughts. "We went to elementary school together, but it's been a while since we've seen each other. She finished college last year, and managed to take a few days off to visit."

Lando nodded along as Oscar talked about his friend, dividing his attention between their conversation and the busy paddock. He couldn't help but notice weird stains on the ground and wished people would be more considerate of the space.

The two McLaren pilots still had a few minutes before the first meeting and the final free practice before qualifying. They decided to take refuge from the scorching sun inside their respective driver's rooms, seeking a moment of tranquility before the hustle and bustle of the track.

Lando made his way down the narrow path to the driver's room, noticing strange marks on the floor. The team garage was typically spotless, and he couldn't comprehend how it had become so messy.

"Who the hell made this mess?" Lando furrowed his brow and glanced around the room.

Oscar, perplexed, asked, "What mess?"

With a chuckle, Lando replied, "Are you blind? Look at the damn floor, it's covered in stains." He pointed to the ground with his arm.

Oscar tried to play along, forcing a laugh. "Mate, did you hit your head on the way here? The floor is spotless, as always."

Lando's eyes narrowed as he examined the stains on the ground more closely. What he imagined was dirt from a worker's shoe, appeared to not be random splatters; they seemed deliberate, almost forming a pattern. And then, in a sudden moment of clarity, Lando's heart skipped a beat as he realized the stains looked like footsteps.

"This is strange," he muttered, crouching down to get a better look.

Hearing Lando's concern, Oscar joined him and peered at the marks. "What are you thinking?"

Lando's mind was filled with various thoughts. He wondered if the intense heat was causing him to hallucinate. A thought crossed his mind that someone had wandered into the garage barefoot, possibly in search of new shoes. Everything seemed mildly possible.

Despite his efforts to suppress it, a nagging part inside him reminded him of the nights he spent wondering about potential invisible soulmate connections. He couldn't help but recall the excitement of discovering invisible threads - like leaving colorful marks upon touch or having their thoughts connect when within a certain distance, almost like telepathy. Things that wouldn't appear on his body when he turned eight, but still meant he had someone.

The 15-year-old version of himself seemed to be pounding on his chest, making him remember the thread through footsteps that he had long forgotten about, and started to question if even existed. Yet, Oscar didn't seem to notice the distinct marks on the floor and Lando couldn't possibly be hallucinating from dehydration.

Oscar placed his hand on Lando's back and felt a shiver run through his friend's body. "Lando, you're starting to worry me. Do you want to go to the medical bay?"

Lando quickly got up from the floor, shaking off Oscar's touch. "No need, Os. I'm fine." He forced a smile, but there was a lump in his throat as he tried to swallow down the fear and uncertainty. He didn't want to get his hopes up again, only to have them crushed once more.

"What do you think of the place?" Oscar's voice startles you from behind,.

A smile lights up your face as you turn around to see your friend in person for the first time in a long while. You eagerly embrace him with open arms, attempting to lift him off the ground like you used to when you were kids.

"Wow, okay, you're not as light as you used to be."

Oscar chuckles, and playfully returns the favor by lifting you up. "Nope, I'm not. Or maybe you're just not as strong anymore."

You tease, giving his shoulder a light slap. He winces and holds onto it, pretending it hurts.

"It's impressive." You answer his previous question. "So many people, so much noise, but I can see why you love it here." You take in the bustling atmosphere with a laugh.

The Aussie leans back against something and asks with a playful glint in his eye, "So, what's been going on in your world?"

You chuckle, immediately feeling at ease with him. "Just the usual post-grad life. Trying to figure it all out."

"Will you stick with auto sports?" He asks hopefully.

"I have an interview lined up to shadow a F2 journalist, so let's hope for the best." You make a gesture of crossed fingers. You thought that graduating with a degree in Journalism would give you direction in life, but almost a year later, you're still searching for your calling.

"It's already yours. I've never met anyone who could get honest answers from drivers like you do." He tried to calm you.

"I interviewed you once for a college project, Os. I don't think that counts." You chuckle.

"Come on, I was in f2 back then. That's definitely something to put on your resume."

"I'll keep that in mind." You nod.

It didn't feel like it had been so long since you two last saw each other in person.

As your gaze sweeps over the cluttered garage once more, something strange catches your eye, and you furrow your brow in confusion.

"Isn't Easter still a ways off?" Your eyes follow a trail of small, misshapen footprints leading around the room and you can't help but comment, "And whoever left those prints definitely didn't excel in their Arts & Crafts classes. They look nothing like bunny paws."

Oscar couldn't believe it. What was going on with his friends and footprints that day?

He squints and shakes his head. "I don't see anything," he says, trying to follow your gaze.

"Of course you don't. I've been telling you to get your eyes checked for years," you tease with a laugh. You walk over to him and point directly at the pawprint (that looks more like a footprint) on the ground that you can clearly see, even though it's slightly faded. Oscar looks at you with confusion.

"Are you and Lando in on this together?" He starts to suspect a prank.

"Lando? Your teammate?" You shake your head. "I've never even met him, Os." A mischievous grin spreads across your face. "But maybe I should."

Oscar's gaze shifted from the empty space in front of him. "Don't even go there, missy. Teammates are strictly off-limits."

You couldn't help but tease, "Why, does he have a soulmate?"

Oscar used to give you pitying looks whenever you mentioned not having a love thread, but it had been a while since then. He missed all of you - including your bad puns.

"I don't know. We've never discussed it," Oscar shuddered. He and Lando had grown closer over the past year, but the Brit never seemed to want to talk about that topic, so Oscar left it alone.

You continue to tease, "I still don't see why he's off-limits."

"Can you imagine how traumatizing it would be to see Lando making out with my best friend?"

"It wouldn't be any weirder than collecting bugs with my best friend and then suddenly having a random girl in front of me," your counterpart argues.

"Touché" It wouldn't be right for Oscar to dictate who you should pursue, especially since you had no control over randomly talking to his soulmate after swapping places. "It still would be fucking weird."

"You know, if two people saw those pawprints and you didn't, I think it's safe to say who's the one in the wrong here," You nudged him playfully. "Maybe you're just not looking close enough. Let me guide you."

Stepping closer to the mysterious prints, you crouched down and examined them closely. "They seem... fresh, don't they?"

Oscar joined you, squinting his eyes as he tried to make out any shape or form on the ground. "I swear, there's nothing there. Are you sure this isn't some elaborate prank?"

You shook your head, running your fingers over the indentations. "No, these are real."

Despite trying his best, Oscar couldn't make out what he was supposed to be looking at. "Alright, you got me. Congrats on your and Lando's little joke."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Your frustration grows as you wonder how he could have missed the obvious footprints right in front of him.

"He saw these so-called "footprints" too." He gestured with air quotes, convinced that his best friend and teammate were up to some strange prank together.

Before you could protest, someone called out your friend's name. "I have to go, it's my engineer," he said, getting up from the floor. He gave you a friendly smile that quickly turned into a knowing smirk. "And don't follow the footprints, Alice. They won't lead you to wonderland."

Wonderland or not, you would be stupid not to follow it.

As you follow the trail of footprints through the crowded garage, your curiosity builds with each step. You maneuver carefully around toolboxes and piles of spare parts, focusing on the prints as they lead you deeper into the maze-like space.

At last, you reach the end of the trail and come face to face with a closed door. Your heart races with excitement and anticipation as you stare at the sign above it: "Lando Norris' Driver's Room"

You furrow your brow in confusion. How could Norris' driver's room be connected to the strange footprints you've been tracking? Is this some kind of elaborate prank that Oscar roped Lando into as well?

Despite the nagging feeling that something was off, you stood your ground and refused to give into whatever it was that was trying to lure you in. You mentally prepared yourself to turn around and head back to Oscar's garage, where at least you felt familiar, and he couldn't pull pranks on you in front of his entire team.

And then, as if on cue, the door swings open, revealing Lando Norris standing on the other side. His presence fills the doorway, commanding attention with an effortless grace that leaves you breathless.

In that moment, you can't help but drink in the sight of him—the way the soft glow of the room illuminates his features, casting his angular jawline and chiseled cheekbones in sharp relief. His eyes, a mesmerizing shade of azure, hold a glint of mischief as they meet yours, and you find yourself drowning in their depths.

Lando is clad in his fireproofs, the sleek material hugging his lean frame in all the right places. His racesuit hangs by his waist, a vibrant burst of color against the backdrop of the room. There's a confidence in the way he carries himself, a hint of swagger that speaks of countless hours spent behind the wheel of a racing car.

But it's not just his physical appearance that captivates you—it's the strange electricity that seems to crackle in the air when your eyes meet.

Your heart skips a beat as you find yourself in a predicament, searching for a clever excuse. You definitely didn't want to appear as a stalker-fan who snuck in. "Um, I was just... uh..."

"Oscar?" Lando interrupts, a knowing glint in his eyes.

"Yes, Oscar!" You latch onto the name like a lifeline. "I'm a friend of his."

"He mentioned you," Lando nods, a friendly grin spreading across his face.

"Ah, so Oscar's been gossiping about me, huh?" You tease, a playful smirk curling your lips as you lock gazes with Lando. "I hope he said only nice things."

Lando chuckles softly, leaning casually against the doorframe. "Oh, absolutely. But he forgot to mention how gorgeous you are"

You feel a warm flush creeping up your cheeks at his compliment, and you playfully bat your eyelashes. "Oh, did he now? Well, I'll have to thank him for the rave reviews later."

An easy silence falls between you, charged with unspoken chemistry and the promise of potential. Lando breaks the quiet with a mischievous smirk, closing the gap between you.

"Care for a little tour while we wait for Oscar? I promise not to lead you astray... too much," he adds with a wink.

Despite the lingering adrenaline from the close call and the unexpected encounter with Lando, you find yourself nodding eagerly. Oscar had been too occupied to give you a proper tour, and you were itching to explore the place.

"Lead the way, but I'm holding you to that promise of not getting lost," you tease, motioning for him to lead. As he begins to walk, you fall into step beside him, the playful brush of your shoulders sending sparks flying.

"Do you have a habit of getting lost?" Lando asks with a playful glint in his eyes.

You laugh, shaking your head in mock dismay. "Define 'a habit'," you retort, a playful sparkle in your eyes. "When we were younger, Oscar and I used to roam around this massive mall near our homes. I lost count of how many times he had to page me over the speakers because I got sidetracked and wandered off."

"I'll have to keep a close eye on you, then," Lando quips. "Can't have Oscar's friend getting lost on my watch."

You chuckle at his teasing, reveling in the easy banter between you two. As he continues to show you around the McLaren paddock, pointing out various spots and sharing amusing anecdotes, you find yourself drawn to his effortless charm and infectious energy.

"You know, I never expected today to turn out like this," you admit, stealing a sideways glance at Lando. "But I'm glad it did. Especially if it means getting a personal tour from McLaren's charming star driver."

Lando beams at your words, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Consider yourself lucky, then. Not everyone gets the VIP treatment around here." He pauses for a moment before adding with a playful grin, "Although, I must confess, it's rather challenging to focus on giving a proper tour with you flashing that smile."

Your heart flutters at his words, but you play it cool with a playful roll of your eyes. "You need to work on your flirting skills, dude."

"But do they work?" Lando counters with a cheeky smile.

"Maybe. Keep trying, and who knows where it might lead."

"Ah, so you're admitting my charm has potential?" Lando shoots back, a playful glint in his eyes.

"I didn't say that," you reply with a smirk..

"Ouch, that hurts," Lando feigns offense, placing a hand over his heart dramatically. "Here I am, giving you the grand tour, and you won't even give me credit for my rizz."

"Okay, okay, maybe just a little credit," you concede with a laugh, nudging him lightly with your elbow. "But don't let it get to your head."

Lando grins. "Don't worry, I'll try to contain my ego."

As the tour comes to an end, you and Lando bid your goodbyes, thanking each other for the enjoyable time spent together. It's time for qualifying, and Lando is escorted towards his car by a member of his team. Just before he gets in, he looks back towards you with a faint smile. In that moment, his gaze locks with yours, and he freezes as a realization dawns upon him. The footsteps he had noticed earlier, weaving through the McLaren paddock, had a familiar pattern. They were from you.

He looks back to the path he took with you, and the marks on the floor as clear as day. They appear in front of his driver's room, in the small cafeteria where he took you to get the best coffee from the paddock (his words), and they follow you as you make your way to Oscar's side of the garage.

Lando's lips part slightly, as if he couldn't get enough air.

Before Lando could take a step towards you, his engineer's firm grip on his arm pulls him back. "Where are you going? Quali is about to start," his engineer reminds him, snapping him out of the mesmerizing realization.

Lando looks torn, torn between the exhilaration of discovering a potential connection he never noticed before and the responsibility of his racing career. He gives you one last longing look before reluctantly turning away, his mind buzzing with newfound thoughts and possibilities.

As he slides into the driver's seat and revs up the engine, he can't shake off the image of your smile, the sound of your laughter, and now, the footprints you left behind that seemed to lead straight to him. The engine roars to life, drowning out his racing thoughts as he steels himself for the high-stakes qualifying round ahead.

There were various theories floating around regarding why Lando secured the pole position. Some attributed it to an engine change, while others praised McLaren's performance on the specific circuit. But deep down, Lando knew that his main motivation was to finish everything quickly so he could talk to you.

He heard his engineer's voice in his ear through the radio, but he wasn't really paying attention. He knew he had interviews to do, photos to take, and a tire to sign, but as he stepped out of the car, his mind was consumed with thoughts of the girl he never knew existed.

After the whirlwind of interviews subsides and Lando returns to the bustling garage, his mind remains fixated on one thought: finding you. He navigates through the maze of mechanics and engineers, his determination unwavering.

Spotting Oscar amidst the commotion, Lando strides over, his expression a mix of eagerness and urgency. "Hey, Oscar," he calls out, drawing his friend's attention.

Oscar looks up from his conversation with a mechanic, a puzzled expression crossing his face at the intensity in Lando's gaze. "Hey, Lando. What's up?" he asks, curious yet cautious.

"I need to talk to your friend," Lando replies, his tone serious.

Oscar's confusion deepens, and a hint of protectiveness flickers in his eyes. "My friend? Why do you need to speak to her?" he inquires, his tone guarded.

Lando hesitates for a moment, searching for the right words. "I... I just need to ask her something," he says evasively, unwilling to divulge the true reason behind his urgency.

Oscar studies Lando intently, sensing there's more to the story than meets the eye. "Is everything okay?" he probes, his concern evident.

Lando shifts uncomfortably under Oscar's scrutiny, torn between his desire to find you and his reluctance to reveal too much. "Yeah, everything's fine," he assures, attempting to brush off Oscar's concern.

But Oscar isn't convinced, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. "Look, if you're going to involve my friend in something, I need to know what's going on," he insists firmly.

Lando sighs, realizing he can't keep dodging the question. "It's just... I met her earlier, and I... I need to talk to her," he admits, his voice tinged with vulnerability.

Oscar's expression softens as he recognizes the sincerity in Lando's words. He may be protective, but he also trusts his instincts when it comes to his friends. "Okay," he relents, nodding in understanding. "She's in my driver's room."

Before Lando can make his way there, Oscar grabs his arm, a serious expression etched on his face. "Look, I know we don't talk about this, but…" He hesitates momentarily. "I don't know if you have a soulmate, but she doesn't. And I don't want you giving her false hope, only to disappear the moment someone mentions what's on your arm, or whatever."

Lando offers a reassuring smile. "You're wrong."

"Listen, I don't care if your mark is on your arm or your ass, my point was-"

"It's not about that. It's about her not having a soulmate," Lando interjects.

Oscar's expression turns grave. "What do you mean?"

"Footsteps," Lando responds simply.

Oscar's frustration bubbles to the surface. "What's going on with both of you? First, you mention footsteps, then her." He glances at his teammate, who meets his gaze with a serene smile. In Lando's eyes, there's a glimmer of hope and relief that Oscar can't quite comprehend. Initially, he considers escorting both of his friends to the medical bay, puzzled by their strange behavior regarding footsteps that only they seem to perceive—

Footsteps that only they can see.

A sudden realization dawns upon Oscar, his eyes widening. "You two are soulmates."

"Hopefully," Lando murmurs. "I—I never thought I had one. No marks, no dreams, nothing. But this morning, I saw footsteps. And then we met, and I showed her around. We were side by side, so I didn't pay much attention. But before Qualifying, I noticed her walking toward your side of the garage, and there were footsteps leading there."

As the realization settles between them, Oscar reluctantly releases Lando's arm, allowing him to continue on his way. However, just as Lando begins to move away, Oscar calls out to him, his tone a mix of seriousness and jest.

"Lando, wait," Oscar says, his voice tinged with playful threat. "Soulmate or not, if you ever hurt my best friend, I'll make sure to crash into you in every single race."

Lando stops in his tracks, turning back to face Oscar with a wry smile. "Fair warning," he replies, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "But I can assure you, if I ever did hurt her, I'd deserve every crash."

The Brit's heart races as he stands before the door, realizing he doesn't need to ask Oscar about the girl when the footsteps guide him straight to her. He wonders if he'd ever noticed those phantom imprints before, dismissing them as mere smudges or dirt. And in a fleeting moment of clarity, he wonders if those same invisible marks had led you to his door earlier, tracing a path he hadn't noticed until now.

As Lando hesitates outside the door, uncertainty gripping his thoughts, he contemplates his next move. Should he pace back and forth until you notice the traces on the floor? Or perhaps he should boldly declare their connection as soulmates upon entering? Before he can settle on a plan, the door swings open.

"Wow!" You exclaim, your initial fright giving way to laughter. "Okay, I probably deserved that. Second time's the charm, right?"

"Uhm," Lando's throat constricts, his words stumbling over each other. In his mind, this conversation had seemed much simpler. "Look, I—I need to ask you something. Do you… have a soulmate?"

Your gaze hardens, but it's not anger that flickers in your eyes, only a hint of sorrow. "We just met today," you confess, your tone tinged with vulnerability. Lando realizes it might be an invasive question; after all, some people prefer to keep such matters private. "Is it that obvious?"

"Yes. I mean, no. I mean—" Lando fumbles, his nerves getting the best of him.

"It's alright, I understand," you say, crossing your arms with a sad smile. "You do?"

"I do," Lando confirms, gesturing subtly to the scattered footsteps that crisscross the room.

"Cool," you respond, your expression disoriented.

"No, wait, that's not what I meant." Lando's frustration mounts as he struggles to articulate his thoughts. Was this what it felt like to be stupid in love?

"It's okay, Lando, really," you reassure him gently. "I know some people like to have... fun before finding their soulmate. I won't judge you for that." Yet beneath your understanding tone, a pang of sadness lingers, the thought of forever being a mere diversion rather than a final destination.

"Listen," Lando interjects, laying his hands gently atop yours, a jolt of electricity coursing between them once more. "Earlier today, you saw those footsteps, didn't you?"

"Actually, yes," you reply, confusion clouding your features. Oscar had vehemently denied their existence, leaving you to question your own perception.

"Me too. I saw footsteps this morning. Then I noticed footsteps leading towards Oscar's garage," Lando reveals, his voice soft with emotion. He silently pleads for you not to notice the trembling in his hands. "And now, I see footsteps again. Emerging from the door and heading toward the couch. A circle of them, right in front of the television."

As Lando confides in you, his vulnerability palpable, you begin to piece it together. Your eyes widen in realization as you look around. Although you can't see the invisible footsteps he's describing, you can distinctly perceive a path, stretching from the door to where Lando stands before you.

"Every step leads me to you," he murmurs, his gaze locked on yours with unwavering intensity.

A tender smile graces your lips as you absorb Lando's words, a rush of warmth flooding your chest. "I never thought I had a soulmate," you confess softly, your voice tinged with wonder.

Lando's own smile mirrors yours, a mixture of affection and amusement dancing in his eyes. "Look at that, one thing that we already have in common," he replies, his tone gentle yet playful.

You share a moment of quiet understanding, the air thick with unspoken emotions swirling between you. It's a realization that defies logic yet feels undeniably right, as if the universe itself had conspired to bring you together. Well, it did, didn't it? Maybe you should apologize for all the times your cursed at it.

"And here we are," you say, a hint of awe coloring your words.

"Here we are," Lando echoes, his gaze never leaving yours.

A mischievous glint twinkles in your eyes as you playfully tease, "You know, when I suggested you keep trying to flirt with me, this wasn't exactly the outcome I had in mind."

Lando chuckles, his grin widening. "Well, lucky for me, there's no one I'd rather up my game with than you."

You laugh, feeling the tension ease between you as the playful banter continues. "Smooth talker," you tease, giving him a playful nudge.

"Just stating the truth," Lando replies, his tone lighthearted yet sincere. "Besides, you will have to deal with it for the rest of your life."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the playful façade giving way to a deeper connection between you. "I suppose you have a point," you concede with a smile, feeling yourself drawn even closer to him.

Lando's eyes light up with mischief as an idea sparks in his mind. "You know," he begins, a playful grin tugging at his lips, "I've spent my entire life thinking you didn't exist. I have a lot of making up to do."

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise at his bold statement, but a smile tugs at the corners of your lips, intrigued by his playful demeanor. "Oh really?" you reply, a teasing glint in your eyes. "And just how do you plan on making it up to me?"

Lando's grin widens as he leans in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Well, I was thinking we could start here. I can't really go out, but my hotel has an amazing restaraunt" he suggests, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "After that... Have you ever been to Monaco? Or Italy? Maybe after that, we could..."

You can't help but laugh at his enthusiasm, charmed by his playful spirit. "I say you're full of surprises, Lando Norris," you tease, interrupting him, a playful sparkle dancing in your eyes. "But I like the way you think."

A bashful smile graces Lando's lips as he chuckles softly. "Great," he replies, his tone now tinged with a hint of shyness. "I've got a meeting to attend, but after that, how about we meet back here?"

"You'll know exactly where to find me."

As warmth floods through Lando's heart, a tender smile graces his lips. In that fleeting moment of realization, it dawns on him—he'll never doubt your existence again. Not when there's a trail of footsteps leading him straight back to you, a path he'll eagerly follow time and time again.

Lando Norris is a romantic at heart. The universe, in all its wisdom, understood that he deserved nothing less than the greatest of loves.

fun fact i actually hate this

taglist (tell me if you want to be added or removed. crossed names means i couldn't tag you) :: @saturnssunflower @sopheeg @minkyungseokie @alexander-hamilhoe @butterfly-lover @cool-ultra-nerd @tomriddleswhorecruxes @everbizzare @chonkybonky @styl1shl1v

#f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 scenarios #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 scenarios #formula one imagine #formula one imagines #formula 1 imagines #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris scenarios

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criticallyacclaimedstranger · 6 months

Text

Seed [Pero Tovar x f!reader]

Read on AO3

Now with a sequel: Sprout

Fandom: The Great Wall

Ships: Pero Tovar x f!reader

Tags/warnings: breeding kink from here to high heaven, fear of infertility, lots of piv sex and creampies, multiple orgasms, fingering, pero eats it from the back, praise kink, dirty talk, pet names.

Words: 4,022

Summary: Your husband Pero comes home to put a baby in you. Don't look at me.

The smell of fresh-caught fish mixes with the salty breeze from the sea, and the sweet scent of oranges. You carry your basket through the marketplace, grocery shopping done, when you hear a call from the crowd: "They're back!"

Your heart skips a beat as you swing around, your skirt dancing around your ankles as you see the trade caravan coming down the main street to the marketplace. Your eyes scan the faces, quickly finding the one you are hoping to see.

Your husband, Pero.

Since marrying you and settling in this quiet small town by the sea, he no longer sells his sword to warlords and kings. Instead, he provides protection for caravans. He is mostly away for a week or two at a time, but this time he has been away for months. You have carried your worry and longing stoically, never showing your neighbours your fear, but now you do not care if everybody sees the relief and happiness on your face. You are not the only one with a husband in the caravan, but you are the only one whose husband wields a weapon for a living.

Pero spots you from afar, and he urges his horse into a trot. The clip-clop of the shoed hooves against the cobblestones is the sweetest music you have heard in a long time. You stand still, a smile on your lips, and put the basket down when Pero swings down from horseback, pulls you to him, and wraps his strong arms around you.

"Wife," he murmurs into your hair. "My precious wife."

Your arms reach around his armoured middle as you bury your face in his shoulder. He smells of the road: dust, sweat, and grime, but you do not care. Underneath all that, you can smell him: horse, hay, earth, metal, spices. You cannot wait to drown in him.

Slowly, Pero strokes your head, making you look at him. You cup his cheek, feeling the stubble that renders his face darker than usual, and unevens the moustache.

"Are you unharmed?" you want to know. He nods slowly.

"Mad from missing you, but not a scratch on me."

He touches his lips to yours, just a gentle little return kiss from an absent husband to his beloved wife, but you know that as soon as you are behind closed doors, he is going to devour you.

"Let's go home," you suggest, enjoying the way your husband's beautiful brown eyes melt into dark liquid.

He helps you up on the horse and mounts behind you. Your basket securely in front of you and Pero sliding one arm around your waist to hold you close, he steers the horse homeward with his other hand. He does not speak as you leave the marketplace, and he does not need to. The two of you always found each other's silences comfortable. Besides, no words are needed to let you know he wants you: his cock is growing hard against the soft roundness of your ass pushing against it. A shiver runs down your spine and ends up on a blossoming pool of arousal between your thighs. Your hand finds Pero's on your waist, fingers disappearing between his in a loving clasp.

You reach your little house, Pero dismounting first so that you can slide off the horse and into his arms. He holds you close again, now with a full erection pressing against you.

"Go inside," he murmurs. "I have to put the horse away."

You push your pelvis against him, smirking at his low groan, before you take the basket and go in. You have barely emptied the basket onto the kitchen table before Pero comes in, kicking the door close as he starts to unlace his breeches.

He takes you on the table, breeches undone just enough to let his cock out, your skirts pulled up to your waist to let him in. A frantic coupling where you exchange breathless moans, claw at each other's bodies through clothes, his cock pressing deep into you as his fingers plant blooming bruises on your thighs. He spills into you before long, cock twitching in the welcoming squeeze of your cunt, and lowers his forehead to yours as he catches his breath. You comb your fingers through his dark hair, curling at the nape of his neck. The amount of silver has increased, scattered like stars across the dark clouds of his soft hair. You kiss the scar over his left eye, both above and under his closed eyelid.

"You need a haircut," you mumble, despite not really wanting him to cut off the soft curls. "And a shave."

"I need you." His initial thirst for you may have been slaked, but his hunger is not sated, and neither is yours.

"You have me now."

He straightens his back and rolls his head, a joint cracking loudly. Slowly, you come down from the table and start to lace up the bindings of his armour. He watches you do it, pulling the bodice of your dress down your shoulders and caresses the exposed skin, stares into your cleavage.

"Wife," he demands, hand on your waist, "Are you with child yet?"

You cast your eyes down. You have been trying to have a child since you were wed. The attraction between the two of you was always there, and pleasure has always been an important part of your married life - before as well, even if he never put it in before you were wed - but there has always been another motive to your coupling as well. You both want a child, several, but one to start with. He takes every opportunity to sow his seed in you, and you welcome every attempt.

But so far, it has not taken.

"My love." Pero caresses your head. "We have time. We will try again."

He kisses your cheek, and leans in towards your ear, his breath hot when he whispers: "And again... and again... and again..."

A husky giggle escapes you and you wrap your arms around his neck as you seek his lips for a kiss. He lifts you up, skirts rustling, and carries you to bed. The kisses turn slower as you undress each other, hands reclaiming every bit of revealed skin. His hard muscles relax when you pass your palm over them, fingers chasing his old familiar scars to trace and love. His hands are dry and callused when he cups your soft breasts, but he still holds you gently. His unshaved face tickles your stomach when he trails kisses over it, but your giggles turn to moans when he buries his face between your thighs, tongue probing between slick lips where his precious seed is dripping out. He assaults your clit, has you thrashing and wailing his name until the sheets are crumpled and you are shaking with the intensity of your release. He rests his chin on your thigh, looking up at you with both a satisfied smirk and adoring eyes.

"That's my girl," he praises you softly. "Let the neighbours know that your husband is home."

You chuckle breathlessly. Your cunt is throbbing hotly, and you pass your hands over your face before reaching for Pero.

"Come to me, husband."

He crawls over you, hissing softly when you close your hand over his cock, and guide it into you. It slides in so easily, but still fills you up so perfectly.

"Oh..." you gasp, eyes falling shut as you bite down on your lower lip. "Pero..."

"I know, precious, I know... but you have to look at me."

He cups your face and kisses you, and when he pulls back, you open your eyes, only to drown in the dark pools of his.

"I want you to look at me when I fill you with my seed," he growls, fingers tangling in your hair. "Look at me when I fuck a baby into you."

His voice is strangled, his hips grind tightly against yours. It is slower now than that first, hurried time, but still intense, desperate in a whole new way. You are hypnotized by him, his presence, his weight on top of you, his cock ravaging your very womb, his low voice that always knows just how to drop to make you wet, that scarred gaze of his that scowls at everyone else but turns soft and vulnerable when directed at you.

"Breed me," you whisper, hooking your ankles together behind his back. "Breed me, husband, I need you to breed me."

He stutters as he fucks you harder, digging deep into you, finding your spot, and staying on it as your moans rise.

"Pero, oh, God, please don't stop!"

He lets you cum first, fucks you through it before driving himself as deep as he can, then staying there. You whimper his name, your cunt convulses, and you can barely breathe, but Pero stays where he is.

"Take it," he soothes you through clenched teeth. "Take it, wife, every last drop, and grow me a baby."

"I love you," you manage to whisper, the words drowning in his mouth when he kisses you.

"And I love you."

Dinner is forgotten, as are the chickens and the horse. Pero slumbers in your arms but wakes up when you take his soft cock in your mouth. You rest together, until he has to be inside you again. Not until dusk settles around the house do you rise to take in and feed the chickens. Pero takes care of the horse, and you prepare dinner. He comes in and finds you by the workbench, cutting up cheese and smoked meat, and immediately cages you against the bench, arms sneaking around your waist as he kisses your neck.

"Pero, I'm holding a knife," you smile, and he immediately closes his hand over yours, guiding it to put the knife down. You hear his stomach growl, and know that if you are hungry, he must be starving.

"Dinner is almost ready."

"Only hungry for you, my love..."

You turn your face to his and receive his kisses, sighing softly at his roaming hands, one finding your breast only covered by your camisole, the other cupping your mound through the fabric of the underskirt. Your cunt weeps to have him again, while stinging from overstimulation. You lost count of how many times you have taken him this afternoon.

"Pero," you whisper between the kisses, your hands finding his and pressing down, in direct opposition to your words. "We need to eat, and you need a bath."

He expresses his discontent with a guttural grunt but gives you one last kiss and squeeze before releasing you.

"Sit down," you gesture towards the table, but he lays out cutlery, plates, and knives for both of you before taking his seat. When you bring the tray of foods to the table, he does not take his eyes off you. You feel the heat rise in your cheeks because you know exactly what he is thinking when he sees your soft breasts spill out of your camisole, the roundness of your ass underneath the threadbare skirt when you bend over to pour him ale. He smirks at you when you catch his gaze, and you shove him gently with your hip.

"Eat."

You take your seat on the other side of the table and eat in a comfortable silence as darkness descends outside. The sounds of your small town die down, only the occasional call of an animal drifting in through the open window together with the cool breeze.

You clear the table afterwards, Pero watching you in quiet contentment. When brushing past him, he cannot keep his hands to himself, but slaps your ass and grins when you yelp and turn around to tell him off. You find yourself pulled down onto his lap instead, Pero nuzzling your neck as he holds you close.

"Thank you for the meal."

"You are very welcome."

His whiskers scratch your sensitive skin, sending shivers down your spine. He kisses your neck, your shoulder, drags his lips down to your breasts while his hand gathers the fabric of your skirt so that he can slip underneath. His fingers find the messy apex of your thighs, his seed and your slick drying on your lips, and when he pushes his fingers inside you, your head falls back as you moan low in your throat.

"Pero... oh, oh, there, oh my God... I can't..."

"If you're too sore, tell me, and I will stop," he whispers hotly against your nipple before sucking it into his mouth. You shake your head, a sob of abandon slipping you.

"More, my love, more."

He brings you to the edge with his fingers, skilfully and quickly, before pushing you over it, catching you in his strong arms when you fall with a wail against his chest.

"Beautiful," he murmurs as he strokes your back, "so beautiful, my pretty girl..."

The night comes on, and Pero brings in water that you warm on the stove, for him to finally pour into the tub where you have spread out dried herbs and flowers. When he sinks down into the warm water, you take a sponge and a piece of scented soap and scrub every inch of him. He relaxes into the water, eyes finally falling shut, as you rub his body down with small, round circles. He leans into your touch with a sigh filled with gratitude and love. Pero is a man who desperately needs softness in his life, the life he always thought would be cut short due to his choice of profession. No wonder he has such a strong need to have children, see part of himself in a tiny face, foster a new generation to carry on his name after he is gone. And you desperately want to give him that.

"Pero," you speak quietly, getting a hum in return. "What if I cannot bear children?"

He does not react at first, but as soon as your words make sense to him, he turns his head to look at you.

"Why would you say that?"

"We have tried, and I'm not pregnant."

"We haven't been married for a year."

"For some, it takes immediately."

"Not for all."

The open window brings in the scents of your garden: evening primrose, wisteria, moonflower, jasmine, and whiffs of herbs rises from the water to meet them. You cast your eyes down to the soap in your hands, and Pero raises a hand from the water, and gently places it on your shoulder.

"My love. We have time."

You nod, knowing he is right. But you still cannot shake the feeling that you have carried around since he left, and your monthly cleansing arrived.

"The wives in town say things."

"What do they say?"

You wet your lips and raise your gaze to meet his. "They say that men who sleep with whores during their trips soil their seed."

Pero's face remains calm and honest. "I have not as much as looked at another woman since I met you. I hope you know that."

"I do, I just..." You shake your head, unsure why you even brought it up. You have never doubted his faithfulness. "I'm sorry. Their words ring in my ears, I can't stop thinking about it."

"Why do you even listen to those old hags?" he shakes his head.

"Because I meet them every day, and they talk, and they know things, and they look at me like I'm a prized cow, all of them waiting for me to become pregnant."

"It's none of their business," Pero scoffs, but his thumb is rubbing soothing circles on your shoulder.

"They also say... that older women are less fertile."

"You are fertile," he immediately dismisses your fear and self-doubt. "You still bleed."

"But if I'm too old?"

Pero sits up straight in the tub, the other hand coming to your other shoulder as he looks into your eyes.

"You are my wife and my love. I want us to have children, but if we for some reason are not to be blessed with them, my love for you will not change."

"I know," you smile softly, "and I will love you too." Tears rise in your eyes, and you wipe at them with the back of your hand. "Forgive me. I just missed you so much."

"You have nothing to apologize for, my love."

You lean forward to kiss him, but when his lips start to trail across your cheek, you giggle and shake your head.

"You, Pero Tovar, need a shave, or you'll grate me raw!"

He stays completely still as you trace his cheeks with the razorblade, eyes under heavy eyelids following your minuscule movements. The hint of a smile plays in the corner of his mouth as he enjoys how your steady hand shaves away the itchy bristles. Finally, you trim his moustache, then his hair. The water grows cool, and he rises from the tub, accepting your hand when he steps out of it. His cock is striving proudly towards his stomach, and he does not take the time to dry himself before lifting you up and carrying you to the bedroom. He sets you down next to the bed and cradles your head in his big hands.

"How do you want me, my beloved?"

You caress his smooth cheeks, stroke your thumbs over his eyebrows, still wet from the bath.

"From behind, husband. I want you to mount me like an animal."

"Your wish is my command."

His hands drop to your shoulders, where they guide you to turn around before caressing down the straps of your camisole. You undo the lacing in the front, and the neckline widens enough to drop and expose your breasts. He cups them from behind, thumbs brushing over stiffening nipples, soft lips peppering kisses all over your neck and shoulder. His cock strains against the fabric of your skirt, and he drops his hands to your hips, finding the laces that will free you from the garment. It rustles softly as it falls to the floor, and Pero's hard cock comes to a rest between your ass cheeks. Your cunt clenches and you can smell your own arousal.

"Take me," you breathe, but Pero grazes your shoulder with his teeth.

"I need to service you first."

He kneels behind you, one hand pushing lightly on your lower back. You bend over, upper body coming to a rest on the crumpled sheets. Pero's hand slowly slides down to your ass, cupping and squeezing, before he slides his fingers between your thighs, carefully pushing your legs open. He fingers you almost thoughtfully before you feel the tip of his sharp nose, and his hot breath on you, and then his lips close around your bud in a little kiss before his tongue takes over. He licks at you, into you, hands coming to grab your soft thighs, humming into your aching cunt. You can barely take it anymore, not after the pleasures of the afternoon, but your husband's touch always makes you need more. Like a bitch in heat, you egg him on, writhe and fist your hands into the sheet, loudly moaning without any thought of the neighbours. He brings you to bliss, once again, pushing his face against you, fingers digging painfully into your ass cheeks as you shake through your orgasm. He helps you up on the bed, letting you rest on your belly, and kisses your shoulders, back, and the soft curves of your buttocks before coming back up to steal your breath away with a wet kiss.

"My beautiful wife," he murmurs, and you smile back faintly. "Can you take me?"

"You know I can," you murmur, already feeling his rock-hard cock pressing in between your thighs. "Take me, husband. Breed me. Put a baby in my belly."

He growls at that, bites your neck, pulls your ass up, and legs together before straddling them. You whine when he pushes into you, your dripping yet sore cunt protesting and welcoming at the same time.

"So wet for me," he groans as he slowly moves in you, hands on your hips. "My love, I thought about this so often during those lonely nights on the road." He sinks deep into you. "I would fuck my own hand and think of you." He thrusts his hips into yours, making you choke on your own breath. "I would spill my seed on the ground and mourn its loss. It shouldn't be wasted but find its way into your fertile womb..."

He lays down over you, pressing your hips down with his as he wraps his arms around you and whispers in your ear: "I would think of you becoming round with my child, your tits filling with milk, how proud and beautiful you would look on my arm when we go to the marketplace together. How I would fuck you every night to make sure the child grows big and strong..."

You sob with desire, delirious from his words and the way he fills you up. All you can do is wrap your own arms around his, take his cock with your encouraging whimpers, and let him kiss what breath you still have away.

He takes his time fucking you slowly, his warm body growing hot from the effort, hips grinding into you so deep that you'll surely be bruised in the morning, all the while whispering filthy things in your ear, keeping you on the brink of insanity until you find yourself cumming yet again, and this time the tears come as well, it's all too much and still not enough, you want all of him in you, and you want him to fill your womb, you need it.

"My good wife," he praises you for climaxing, "Cumming on my cock like that, preparing your wet little cunt for my seed. Take it, my love, take it, I don't have long."

"Breed me," you manage to articulate, "put a baby in my belly, Pero, I love you, now breed me, fuck me like an animal and make me pregnant!"

He growls into your ear and props himself up onto one forearm before heeding your wish. You cry out when he drives himself into you, again and again, until you feel the wet heat spill inside you. A low, rumbling growl rises from deep within him, and he thrusts into you, all the way in, as deep as he can go, and stays there, panting heavily. You can hardly take it, you're too full, but you still push back as if he could go any deeper, and you squeeze him tightly to get every last drop out of him.

He finally collapses by your side, cock slipping out, one arm and leg thrown over you. Silence descends over your wheezing, sweaty bodies - yours slick from his perspiration. Finally, Pero groans, and kisses your shoulder.

"Are you still in one piece, my love?"

"Barely," you murmur, exhausted and deeply in love.

"Will you let me tuck you in?"

You gripe but shift so that Pero can pull away the covers. Your head hits the pillow with a deep sigh that changes to a yelp when Pero slaps your ass.

"Move. You've been sleeping alone for too long, you have started to take up too much space."

You scoot over to one side, and Pero gets in behind you. Moulding himself to you, he kisses your shoulder again.

"If I get pregnant, I'll get fat and take up even more space," you point out with a yawn.

"When you get pregnant, I'll worship every inch of your beautiful body, wife," he promises you. "Now, legs together. Don't want my seed to stain anything but your thighs."

Your hand finds his under the covers.

"I'm so glad you're home."

"I'm very glad to be home."

His hand comes to a rest on your lower abdomen, spreading a faint tingle deep inside. You smile to yourself, and then sleep claims you.

#pero tovar #pero tovar x you #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar fanfic #the great wall fanfic #my fic

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sycamorelibrary754 · 6 months

Text

Guardian Angel

Chapter 1 : A Helping Hand

Guardian Angel Masterlist

Summary: It took time, patience, and an intense personal as well as public effort for Wanda to be welcomed back into the Avengers after the Westview events. However, deep down, she didn't believe that she deserved to be accepted back. Billy and Tommy, somehow, managed to survive the destruction of the Hex. Now, Wanda's primary focus is rebuilding her life with her beloved sons. One Monday morning, when she went out for a simple coffee date with Natasha, she met you. You were the unexpected surprise that she didn't see coming, but maybe it's a positive kind of surprise.

Warnings: Mentions of injury

Word Count: 928

“Blonde Vanilla Latte!”

As you approached the counter to grab your steaming hot coffee, you couldn't help but feel the mundanity of your Monday morning routine. You adjusted your navy blue coat and pulled your beanie down over your ears, bracing yourself for the chilly air outside. Just as you were about to take your first sip, two young boys came barrelling towards you, completely out of control. Before you could react, they collided with you, sending you stumbling backwards. Your right ankle twisted painfully, and you lost your balance and hit floor of the café with a thud.

"Oh man, we're sorry! Are you okay?" they exclaimed.

A young, redheaded woman rushes up behind them. "Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry. Tommy, Billy, what have I said about running in public places? Let me help you." she rambled

As you look up, you catch a glimpse of her and you can’t help but be captivated by her beauty. Her radiance shines through her big, emerald green eyes, and you feel yourself getting lost in their depth. You're momentarily stunned, unable to take your eyes off her, until you notice her extending her delicate hand towards you, offering to help you get back on your feet.

“Thank you,” you finally said as you grabbed her hand and slowly rose to your feet.

With a sudden jolt of pain, you blurt out, "Ouch!" while losing your balance and falling back on your butt.

“Oh! You’re hurt. Please, let me call an ambulance.”

Embarrassed, you said, "Oh no, it's okay. I live just a few doors down. I can make it."

Please, allow me to assist you in getting home. I insist.

Oh, um, okay," you said hesitantly. "What about your kids?

They will be okay with my friend," she said, pointing towards another redhead with a French braid who was sitting at a nearby table. The friend was wearing a gray pullover sweater, black jeans, and combat boots. She gave a finger-wiggly wave and a smile, watching the whole situation unfold like an interested spectator.

"I'm Wanda," said the beautiful woman as she gently helped you up again.

“I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

"Hey, boys, you two stay here with Auntie Nat for a bit. I'll be back before you know it." You leaned on Auntie Nat for support as you made your way out of the bustling cafe, wincing with each step.

Wanda asked, "Where do you live?" Her red hair came alive in the gentle autumn breeze.

As you pointed to the right, you began limping down the sidewalk with Wanda by your side. You didn't like being the center of attention, so you averted your eyes as pedestrians looked your way. You both looked like you were running a slow three-legged race, which made you feel embarrassed. However, Wanda seemed perfectly comfortable helping you. She supported your right side perfectly with each painful step.

You felt relieved when you finally limped into the lobby of your building. As you stepped into the elevator, you couldn't help but notice how nice she smelled; a mixture of vanilla and orange blossom, endlessly sweet and wonderfully comforting. However, you were abruptly brought back to reality when the elevator dinged on your floor.

As you both made your way down the hallway, you felt an uncomfortable tension building up inside you. With each step, you grew more aware of Wanda's presence by your side, and a part of you wished you could just disappear. Eventually, you reached your apartment door, which was marked with a faded number 19. You gently removed your arm from Wanda's shoulder, feeling a twinge of pain in your leg as you shifted your weight. You reached into your pocket for your keys, and your hand closed around the cold metal. As you struggled to find the right key, you could feel Wanda's eyes on you, watching your every move. Finally, you found the key and inserted it into the lock, taking care not to make any mistakes. You turned the key and pushed open the door, feeling a sense of relief wash over you.

As Wanda helped you to the couch, you expressed your gratitude, "Thank you for your help, Wanda. I really appreciate it."

“Are you kidding? It's the least I can do. I'm so sorry that my boys injured you," she said, hiding her face in her hands. "I've warned them so many times about the dangers of running in public places. Is there anyone I can call for you? I feel awful leaving you here alone.”

“No, it's fine. I probably just twisted it,” you said as you carefully removed your shoe and sock, revealing deep purple bruises that had already spread across your ankle. “Or maybe not.”

“Let me get you some ice for that,” she said, biting her lower lip in concern.

Wanda walked to your fridge like she had been in your home before; returning moments later with a bag of ice and towel. Sitting down next to you, you take in her elegant profile. Wanda placed the ice carefully on your ankle and gently wrapped it with a towel. The adrenaline started to wear off, and you grimaced when the ice came in contact with your bare skin. You can’t help but stare as she worked.

After Wanda deftly wrapped your ankle, she placed her gentle palms on the ice pack to ensure it was snugly in place. Remarkably, an unexpected feeling of tranquility enveloped you, and you felt the sharp pain in your ankle gradually fading away. You couldn't help but wonder at the strange sensation that had washed over you.

"Thank you," you said in a gentle tone.

Wanda stood up and replied, "You're welcome. You should see a doctor and stay off that ankle for a few days at least. Alternate between ice and heat if you can," guilt swimming in her eyes.

As Wanda made her way towards the door, she couldn't help but feel guilty for leaving you all alone. "I should get back to the boys. Again, I'm so sorry," she whispered apologetically. Just as her hand touched the cool metal of the doorknob, she turned back to face you and flashed a smile that could have easily thawed the ice wrapped around your ankle. "It was really great meeting you, even under these unfortunate circumstances," she said with genuine warmth in her voice.

"It was great to meet you too. I'm glad your sons introduced themselves," you said with a smile.

“Bye, y/n…”

“Bye, Wanda.”

As you watched her leave, you were left bewildered and unsure of what had just transpired.

*Chapter 2 coming soon*

#guardian angel #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda x you #billy maximoff #tommy maximoff #natasha romanoff #scarlet witch

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tinietaehyun · 6 months

Text

Entranced Melody

[Siren!Taehyun x Researcher!reader] [One-shot] [Mystic Trail Series]

Pairing: Siren!Taehyun x Researcher!Reader

Genre(s): Fantasy, dark fantasy, romance, thriller.

Contains: Profanity, dark themes, mentions of blood, possessive behaviour, captivity, gaslighting, manipulation, mentions of deep waters/drowning.

Links: MYSTIC TRAIL || MASTERLIST

Summary: You had heard about numerous siren sightings upon this very beach; and you were determined to take a photo of at least one!

Perhaps, it was stupid, though, you were just ever so intrigued. After all this field of research was your specialty. Though, you’ve been here for two days and there’s still not single sight of one. Was your effort coming here going to got to waste?

A sudden voice breaks your thoughts, “My, my, are all humans this adorable when they space out?” You freeze instantly. No way.

—————————•••••••••••••————————

Grimacing, you tiredly trek across the sandy shoreline with sand beginning to slowly seep into your boots. The sound of the howling wind and ghastly chorus of waves splashing onto the shore make you feel slightly uneasy. You’ve never been too much of a fan of deep water; nor were you keen on anything related to the ocean, but this particular site was something you just had to go to.

You’d gained permission to conduct your own mini expedition for three days to gain evidence and to research the sirens along this particular stretch of coastline. Many rumours, photographs and most prominently the haunting songs of the sirens at night were enough proof for numerous researchers to come here on the regular. You just absolutely had to find one! Maybe even take a picture!

You place a trusty hand on your satchel containing your notes and your beloved camera. It had already been two days and you had spotted nothing. You’ve not even heard a single siren song either. At first you thought you’d stepped into the wrong portion of beach but to your dismay, this was indeed the place. Were you out of luck? Or was it not the proper season? Perhaps you were just misfortunate.

Sighing, you spot a rock and decide to settle yourself on it to rest. Your legs ache from all the walking you’ve done. Your gaze lifts up to the horizon where you see the edge of the sun dipping into the majestic line dividing the sky and sea. The blossoming hues of oranges, pinks and yellows fill the sky slowly like a watercolour to a paper. It was incredibly stunning. You had already taken a photo of this on your first day; but it still didn’t get tiring to see.

You feel the tide rise higher as the water caresses your boots. The foam and froth of the water being left behind with each sway and waves that climbed higher and higher up the shore. The salty air was now beginning to make your head ache from its pungency. You had collected various sea shells too from the sand; all of gorgeous variety.

However, you weren’t here for all that. You were here for the sirens. You simply wished to stay least get a glimpse of one. To see their enticing beauty, hear their alluring cries (not that you wish to be drawn to it of course) perhaps from a distance. Though it seems, fate had different plans for you. Maybe you weren’t meant to see one. This was your last day; you’d have to go back to your camp back up the cliffs and start packing. A frown graces your lips.

Well, hey, some alone time peering at the ocean wouldn’t do any harm now would it? You rest your chin on the palm of your hand and place your satchel to the side. Your mind drifts as you focus on the lapping waves and the looming sky. The beautiful scene had a touch of a melancholy aura. A mystical feeling that just made you want to stay here. There was indeed something about this place.

A sudden voice breaks your thoughts, “My, my, are all humans this adorable when they space out?” You freeze instantly. Your body stiffens as you turn your head to the source of the voice. To your surprise you spot a head and shoulders peeking out of the water just to the left of you.

Your entire being shakes with nervousness and excitement. No fucking way!

“Hm? Why so quiet, human? I swear your kind are much louder and cause much more ruckus than you do.” You peer agape at him; you drink in his appearance more clearly. “You’re…”

Your eyes are drawn to his damp red hair in which the glossy strands splay across his forehead. Not to mention his skin! His skin that shimmers in an almost bluish hue. His eyes that pierce into you with a gaze that’s half-playful, half-alluring. His chiselled features and his ever so slightly pointed ears give him away. He wades closer to the shoreline giving you a glimpse of his toned torso and siren markings. This was astonishing!

“Now, now human, don’t forget! You need to breathe. With your jaw hanging like that, you’d think a fly would go in.” You compose yourself feeling an excited jitter. “A siren…a real siren…” you murmur in awe. He was stunning, as though the gods had handcrafted and sculpted him with their bare hands! You couldn’t determine what species of siren he was (surely a rare one looking at those markings!) but either way this was insane. No less, he was talking to you!

“Hm…” he tilts his head seeming just as fascinated with you as you were with him. God, his eyes, his iridescent skin that shimmered beautifully as the sun melts into the horizon giving him an almost ethereal glow. He continues, “Why, yes, a real siren? Are you surprised, my pretty little human?”

“Pretty?” You quirk in confusion. The siren hums amused, “Yes? Did I show any hesitation in my speech? You seem a lot different to the other humans who come here trekking with all their fancy, expensive equipment. You seem younger… lovelier to look at. Less of a threat even.”

Well, a compliment was a compliment you suppose as weird as this interaction was. You had to be cautious, sirens were known to be vicious when upset. You hum tentatively, “…I see. Well, it’s lovely to meet you. I never thought I’d see a real siren before. This is just so, fascinating. You’re g-gorgeous.”

The male siren seems to gleam at your words and the water splashes as he swims closer, “My, are you flirting with me, pretty human?” Your eyes widen, “No-! I was just making observations.” The siren releases a breathy chuckle running his hands through his dripping locks of red hair. You notice the ever so subtle webbed skin between his fingers.

“You know, I don’t usually talk to humans. They particularly annoy me. Especially…you researcher folk. Always coming here with your big, noisy groups. Destroying the lovely scenery with your disgusting litter and obnoxious chatter.” As he speaks you note his teeth; rather pointy and sharp. His eyes snap back to yours locking your gaze, “However, you. You’re different. You’re by yourself, I’ve been observing you. Since the day you got here.”

You stiffen. Since when? How come you never spotted him? You made sure to look everywhere. There wasn’t even a suspicious ripple in the water as you walked. He cooes with a tempting smile, “Oh human, don’t think too hard, I’d find it more concerning if you were able to find me than not.” You nod slowly processing his tangled words. How impressive sirens were at hiding themselves.

“Does the human have a name I can call out?” His lips form an alluring smile. You murmur, “Tell me yours, and I’ll tell you mine.” He releases a breathless laugh before humming, “Taehyun. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, pretty human.” Taehyun’s eyes twinkle in excitement, “Now yours?” Inhaling deeply you murmur, “Y/n. It’s y/n.”

“Hm…y/n. Fascinating name indeed. Not from around here, definitely.” Your hands were itching to open your satchel and take your camera out. Though, you perhaps you were being too greedy. It was already a huge step you were taking with being face to face and talking with a siren. If he started singing; it’d be game over for you. You also knew of some grizzly tales of photographers being attacked - perhaps sirens weren’t as photogenic as they looked.

He wades even closer until he’s right in front of you where the water laps at your boots. The water is shallower here and you see glimpses of his dark blue shimmering tail. Taehyun notices your gaze and smirks coyly, “Oh? You like my tail?” He raises it more out of the water letting his scales glimmer and shimmer in all their glory. His strong, defined arms hold up his torso getting stained by the grains of sand.

Damn, how attractive he was. You suppose that was the point of their species after all. “Aw, how endearing you are. So concentrated and focused. I love the way you look at me with such amazement and awe,” Taehyun hums peering up at you.

He reaches out his hand and you flinch making him chuckle, “Surely, you’re not scared of me? I can’t even come far out of the water. I’ve never been so close to a human before.” Taehyun tilts his head running his dark gaze down your body making you shiver reflexively. He resumes, “Most of your kind seem to want to put us into nets or chambers. Or wish to aim little darts and such at us. How cruel…” He frowns but his tone of voice is dark, “And then we get all the blame when we have to get all violent. If they just left us alone, we wouldn’t need to defend ourselves so viciously.” His eyes meet yours intensely, “Don’t you agree, my sweet human?”

Clearing your throat, you carefully answer, “Well, yes. I do believe tactics like that are a bit-no, very barbaric. You are also civilised creatures after all.” Taehyun’s lips form a grin showcasing his sharp canines, “Oh my, not only are you a treat for the eyes, but you’re capable of thinking, more than the rest of your pitiful species.” He rests his chin atop his palm as he leans his elbow into the wet sand. Taehyun hums peering up at you, “See, we’re not all bad. We’re taking so nicely right now, aren’t we, y/n?”

You nod hesitantly as you still had to be wary. You didn’t want to leave this trip without nothing. You murmur, “I’m not sure if you’re keen on photos. But…may I sketch you, at least. If that’s alright? Y-You d-don’t have to-“ you begin stammering. His eyes glimmer and he chuckles, “Oh my precious human, don’t be so afraid of me. I like you a lot. I really like you…”

He hums deep in thought pondering your words, “Mm…I’ll grant your request, since you’re so lovely. In exchange, you’ll have to grant one of mine, hm?” There it is. Of course. Of fucking course! You murmur, “You know what- actually. I’m not that good of an artist-“

His gaze darkens and his expression stills making you halt your words. Taehyun moves up the shore almost crawling and you stumble off the boulder you were sat on, onto the sand. You scoot backwards feeling fearful. He pulls himself atop the boulder sitting on it showing off his illustrious tail and form. Your shoulders relax, “I- you-“ He grins mischievously, “I’m sorry, your fearful expression was too adorable for me to pass up. I just wanted to see your reaction, is all! You can sketch me.”

You shakily murmur, “O-Oh. Right.” He hums, “You know I wouldn’t hurt you right? You’re so lovely. Actually…why don’t you begin to draw now? We can spend more time chatting together.” You peer at the sun now almost disappearing into the horizon and the dim lamps along the beach being your only source of light.

He leans forward with an alluring tone of voice, “Human why so far? Come closer. Take a good look. This is not a privilege I extend to just anyone so lightly.” You awkwardly smile, “Ah, I can see just fine from here.” Taehyun cooes, “I don’t bite, pretty.”

You reluctantly scoot forward. You get out your notepad and a pencil as you begin to sketch. You weren’t about to leave this damn beach without anything. You begin sketching roughly. You’d redraw and label this later with more anatomical and scientific terms. For now this was as good as you were going to get.

The scraping of pencil against paper contrasts the roaring waves. Taehyun keeps his gaze firmly on you as he leans on the boulder keeping as still as he could. His lips form a teasing smirk as you nervously sketch him occasionally meeting his intense gaze. “Mm, talk to me won’t you? I like the sound of your voice. It’s ever so soft. Keep talking to me.”

“What’s there to talk about? I’ve already said everything I wanted to,” you enquire. Taehyun pouts, “Oh gorgeous, but I’d thought you’d have so many burning questions to ask me? Are you not curious?” ‘Curiosity killed the cat’, is what they all say. Although some say, the ‘answer brought it back.’

Were you willing to bite the bait, was the question?

“Perhaps another time, Taehyun.” You murmur continuing to sketch. He huffs, “Fine, then let me ask you question. Have you truly never seen another siren before? You were so determined these last two days. I enjoyed watching you miserably walk around in search of my kind.” You scoff, “No and I am glad my misery is so entertaining.”

Taehyun cooes with a smile, “Don’t frown, pretty human. I’m only teasing after all. The sky’s getting darker, it must be hard to see from that distance. How else are you going to get the intricate details?”

You nervously titter, “A-Ah, no worries. It’s mainly general outstanding features I’m worried about.” He hums, “well you could get a close up of my gills, markings?”

You bite your lip tempted; no one has properly seen these markings; you knew Taehyun’s siren species was rather rare. The typical plain skinned siren was well researched. Him…however…

“Come on…” he whines. His eyes glimmer, “You know you want to. I’m happy to be your muse, my dear human.” You quiver before slightly moving closer and you yelp as you feel his damp hand wrap around your ankle. His fingers soothe the skin as he caresses it with his fingers. The coolness of his touch sends shudders along your spine. A relaxed exhale releases from your parted lips.

“Mm…your skin is so smooth and soft. How curious indeed. It’s pleasant sensation to my senses,” he notes. He releases his grip but it makes you want more of his cool touch upon your warm skin. Taehyun smirks, “Oh?” You peer back down at your notepad. “Oh, did the human like my touch?”

“No, could you keep still, please?” You huff softly.

Taehyun peers down at you, “What an endearing little thing you are.” You glare softly at him making him chuckle, “Apologies, pretty. I might be sounding rather condescending-“ “Patronising,” you simultaneously say. He grins, “Well, you have my apology.” You mutter out an exasperated, “Thanks.”

As you continue to sketch you notice his gaze upon you- noticing all your intricate movements and motions. “Do you have anyone waiting for you back home, human?” Sighing you respond, “Yes, I do.” Taehyun hums sighing, “Oh what a shame…”

Raising a brow, you question, “A shame? Why?” He shrugs nonchalantly, “You humans value familial bonds so closely. It’s a weakness when it comes to survival. Staying altogether like that.” Your eyes narrow, “Well, lucky we don’t live out in the middle of nowhere with any apex predators.”

He hums amused, “Well, you humans do seem to like to think your kind is invincible. When you clearly aren’t. I’m not talking about you, sweet thing. You’re too lovely to be seen as prey.”

You grimace, “I appreciate your perspective.” His eyes sparkle as they narrow in on you, “Do you think of yourself as prey? Do you even have a weapon on you?” You stiffen, “I…” You had a hunting knife, pepper spray and those projectile batons that you almost knocked yourself unconscious with one time. “Yeah, I do. In my satchel. I’m not stupid.” You were beginning to feel internally question the validity of your statement.

Taehyun slyly smiles, “I never said you were, pretty thing. I’m glad you do in fact. You’ve always got to give a predator a bit of a chase after all.” You stop drawing and peer up at him; you notice him leaning forward putting his weight on his forearms. He leers at you with a sly smirk, “Hm? Oh? I don’t mean to frighten you. I simply don’t like to mince my words, is all.”

You were almost done. “Will you come visit this spot tomorrow? I’ll be waiting for you. I find you rather intriguing. I like you a lot, in fact.” He rambles more to himself as you try to hurriedly finish off the sketch. You were beginning to feel uneasy. You peer to your side seeing the ocean fog up and a mist forming on the far stretch of beach. Your heart palpitates in anxiousness.

You murmur, “Oh…today’s my last day. It was a three day expedition. I’ll be going home tomorrow morning.” Something about your words makes Taehyun stiffen and he tilts his head with wide eyes, “Your last day here? Oh but we’ve only begun to get to know each other!”

You nervously hum, “I’m sure I’ll be back soon on another expedition, Taehyun.” His eyes narrow and he sharply quips, “Don’t lie to me.”

You halt at the rasp in his tone. His tail splashes irritably in the surrounding water beside the boulder. “I wouldn’t have spent so much time being so cautious for the first few days, if I knew you were going to leave so quickly.” He whines, “Oh but why? The other human groups that come here stay for months!”

You awkwardly put your notepad away, “Ah, w-well those are properly organised expeditions with numerous scholars and sufficient funding, Taehyun. My trip was merely to satiate my curiosity and hopefully add some things to my thesis or general knowledge.” His jaw tightens and he peers at you with a dark gaze, “But you’re the first human I’ve ever properly conversed with. You’re so lovely to be around and talk to. Surely you wouldn’t leave me behind? What if other groups try to take me, hunt me down? I might not even be here next time!” Oh, how his playfully sly demeanour changed?

You awkwardly stammer, “I- Taehyun. I’m sure you can handle yourself. You’ve managed this far-“ He frowns, “You don’t understand, I’ve finally made a human friend and now you’re just going?” You didn’t expect sirens to get so attached. It’s ironic considering he was the one who mocked humankind for their reliance on close relationships.

You softly murmur, “I have a life beyond this Taehyun,” you chuckle anxiously, “I have to get back, to work and spend time with my family and friends.” He frowns, “I can’t do that, I can’t leave this ocean.” A pang of guilt arises within you. “I can’t stay with you here forever, Taehyun. I’m sure you understand that very well.” He looks at you with a shattered expression making you frown. He really did look pitiful. You didn’t expect this from him. You initially felt uneasy considering all the dangerous rumours you’ve heard of sirens.

His hands form fists and he scoffs, “You humans and your so called relationships.” You frown, “I’m sorry Taehyun.” Why were you even apologising? “If you were sorry, you’d not leave….leave me yet. Won’t you stay with me for one more day?” You go quiet. You couldn’t extend your time more than this. You’d be in for a whole lot of penalty paperwork and a lot of yelling.

Shaking your head you respond, “I…I can’t Taehyun.” You also didn’t want to risk it being out here. The aura of this place wasn’t exactly friendly. “I wish I could…really, I’ll try to come back another time when we’re allotted here.” You stand up slinging the strap of your satchel on your right shoulder. He lets out a, ‘tch,’ before sliding off the boulder and immersing his tail back into the water only allowing his torso to show.

His eyes glaze over almost as if he were genuinely upset at your answer. “It was lovely chatting with you, Taehyun. I sincerely thank you for letting me sketch you-“ “I’ll let you photograph me. You like that little camera of yours. I saw you take photos of the beach and sky. I’ll let you-“

You murmur firmly, “No, no. Taehyun really. It’s sweet that you are comfortable with me but I have to be going. It’s getting really dark.”

He says nothing as you give him a soft smile. “Please don’t be upset,” you mumble. Taehyun doesn’t respond continuing to look pitifully at you. He finally sighs, “Okay; fine. I…I understand, human. I’m sorry for being so demanding.”

Your heart twinges with guilt and you feel bad for leaving him behind. His expression cuts into your conscience like blades. “Bye…Taehyun,” you utter out gently.

“Goodbye…hum-y/n. Y/n,” he murmurs raising a hand with a deep frown. You feel your heart ache tremendously at his broken expression.

Reluctantly, you twist yourself away and begin to walk through the sludge of wet sand. Your body feels fatigued and solemn. This was indeed a rare memory to be cherish- your encounter with a real siren. A siren who was sweet under his playful facade. Who felt lonely and wanted to communicate. Poor thing…

You begin to take a step forward hearing your boot crunch into the sand.

“Hear my voice, underneath the sea. Sleeping now so peacefully. Sleep for all eternity…” A haunting voice echoes out behind you filling the void of the air. Your joints stiffen and your eyes widen in horror.

“Listen to this siren’s song, worry not for there’s nothing wrong…” His melodic voice reverberates across the shoreline and drives its way down your ears and you slam your hands over your ears tightly. No! No! No! You peer over your shoulder seeing him sitting where the water and sand meet. He peers at you with most malevolent expression you’ve ever seen. His sharp teeth and dark smirk make your knees weak.

A piercing scream rips itself out of your throat as you try to move yourself forward but a force makes your legs feel weak. No matter how you trek forward, it feels as though your legs weren’t cooperating with you. The melody of his tauntingly beautiful voice wraps around your body and senses like a terrible vice. The hands over your ears seem more for show than practicality. Hints of his song seem to seep between the gaps between your fingers.

A sob escapes your throat; you try to crawl forwards as your knees finally collapse. His mellifluous tone captures you like a poor fish in a net. “Struggle not, soon peace will come…” he hums with a dark smile as he drags his sharp nails through the sand.

You find it difficult to breathe as you try with all your might to resist his melody - his enchanting voice. “Succumb to me, pretty thing. Why resist me so brutally? I’m hurt,” he calls out with a pout momentarily halting his singing. You crawl forward desperately. He begins singing once more with a sadistically delightful expression, “Let my voice lead you astray..”

You collapse and you find your senses going haywire. Perhaps it was too late for you. “Trust me…come into my arms,” he cooes melodically. You find the world around you go blurry and you twist around facing him entirely. You shakily crawl towards him; your balance buckling here and there. Your mind screams for you to stop yet your body complies to his dangerously sinful voice.

“That’s right…very good,” he praises with a dark gleam in his eye. “Oh you do look so appealing when you crawl towards me like that. Like a subservient mutt, wishing to please its master.” You shiver; his spell taking ahold of you. “Let my voice guide you tonight…” he sings peering as you crawl towards him laced with utter desperation.

You needed him. You had be with him. All you wanted was him. Your beloved siren. Your eternal lover. The one you’d be safe with.

No-! No you couldn’t. Oh, but you would.

Entranced, you clamber nearing the boulder not caring how the water sways at your hands and knees wetting your attire. Taehyun grins outstretching his hand, “Come my sweet, sweet human, come to me…you’ll be safe with me.”

You struggle to take his hand. He tilts his hand with a snark in voice, “Oh? Still resisting. I didn’t take you as a fighter. I knew weren’t stupid, but you weren’t too bright either. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here in this position, hm?”

He continues humming keeping his hand outstretched. With that, you finally succumb. Your consciousness is slipping away and your free will is falling into Taehyun’s chains. You take his hand and he rapidly intertwines his fingers with yours. A dazed smile decorates your entranced expression.

A chuckle escapes his lips, “How cute,” he comments before giving one swift and harsh tug. You collapse forward and he immediately wraps his other arm around you snugly pressing your torso against his. It’s almost intimate. He drags his nose and lips along the curve of your neck; he inhales deeply getting a feel of your scent. “Oh you sweet thing, getting all caught up in my spell,” he cooes caressing your damp hair.

He strongly cups your jaw making you face him and he peers down at your visage with a teasing smirk, “How dazed you look, not a single thought in that pretty head of yours. I find it’s better that way. You humans tend to overthink a lot, hm. Don’t you agree?” All you can respond with is a slow nod and a blissful hum making him grin. “So soft, my own little human to keep. I doubt you’ll last long underwater. Though, I do know of a cove nearby,” he ponders in thought.

Taehyun slyly hums, “My dearest human, you were indeed foolish, though I suppose I had a part to play. You don’t understand how incredibly tiresome it was to play the lovestruck and lonely creature, eager for a humans affection. Seducing you wasn’t working, but apparently being pitiful was enough to make you lower your guard.” He notices how out of it you seem and hums, “Not that you’d care now anyways. All you now care about is being with me,” he sharply hums tightening his grip around you. His nails press into your skin; surely they’d draw blood soon.

“Are you fond of me, pretty human?” He cooes moving the strands of wet hair out of your face. You hum, “Mhm.” “Would you like to stay with me forever?” “Mhm,” you answer blissfully ignorant of your predicament. How tragic this was indeed. A young researcher curious about sirens only to be taken by the one thing she wished to investigate. How unbecoming for a scholar!

Suddenly, he moves back into the water with you in his arms before with one heave he drags you underwater. You cough and your body naturally flails and flaps around as air escapes your lungs. You hair wafts around you and silent screams escape your lips as Taehyun watches on with a cruel smile tainting his angelic features.

You cling to Taehyun after a while. He resurfaces with a sadistic smile on his face, “Oh, I was right, you humans are clearly not built for water. My bad, my dearest human. Simply had to have a little fun. Though, I’d rather not have you drown, so quickly.”

He chuckles at your dim response only clinging onto him for quite literally dear life. You begin to shiver from the cold ocean water. Taehyun cups the back of your head gently and lets you rest your head against his torso, “My sweet thing, be not afraid. I’ll never let any harm come to you.” You hum, “Mhm,” your heartbeat relaxes.

“Let us stay like this for a moment before we swim to the cove I was speaking of,” he hums nonchalantly, “I’m sure you’ll find it charming there. You’ll find anything charming as long as I’m there with you, won’t you?” He runs his thumb along your cheek down to your bottom lip tugging it down ever so slightly sending a pleasurable jolt through your senses. It was a seductive motion that had you craving for more- he knew it as well.

“Oh I could just devour you up,” he playfully growls into you neck. “Do try to last longer than the others, won’t you? I’m quite a bit more fond of you than anyone else I’ve come across. There’s just something about you…”

Taehyun hums into your neck that same addictive melody as he holds your shivering body against his. The scene is intimate but dark as the stars in the sky peer down at yet another tragedy that’s befallen the coastline.

All that now lies on the coast is a damp satchel containing a ruined sketch, and a no longer working camera. A trace of your tragic disappearance.

Taehyun squeezes you against him; the silhouette of you two mirroring two lovers in the moonlight; albeit more twisted. He whispers lowly as his eyes meet yours twinkling glossy ones, “A pretty thing indeed…and all mine.”

Oh, how foolish of you to think you could converse unscathed with a Siren…

238 notes · View notes

yurislotusgarden · 6 months

Note

Hi there! How are you? Can I please request number 11 for the event with Dazai, Kunikida, and Fyodor? I'm a sucker for giving hand kisses, honestly XD. Gn or female reader, I don't mind.

ʚїɞ Separately! Dazai Osamu, Fyodor Dostoevsky x Reader

ʚїɞ Keep in mind English is not my first language, so you may find mistakes!

ʚїɞ The event

ʚїɞ word count: just over 1k

ʚїɞ Tw’s: None! Just pure fluff, reader’s gender is not specified in any way, they both are lowkey whipped <33, This is my fav work so far ngl

ʚїɞ I'm very well these days, thank you for asking! I do not write for Kunikida, sorry anon! Hope you don't mind it too much!

ʚїɞ Does it all the time, at every opportunity

ʚїɞ You think you would get used to it, and you probably would stop getting that red hue on your cheeks if he didn’t keep eye contact with you while doing it

ʚїɞ Ya know the way one would bow to kiss a lady’s hand as a greeting in the past?

ʚїɞ Yeah he does that

ʚїɞ There's no place on your hands that hasn't been kissed by this man

////////////////

The sun was slowly going down, the orange hue falling over the water, giving it a beautiful glow.

Two figures could be seen taking a walk along the water line, green bushes and trees dimmed in color upon being caught in the sun's rays, surroundings pleasantly bare of other people.

Dazai Osamu, one of the two figures mentioned before, thought that he had seen everything and that no view could cause shock or any other bigger emotion to go throughout his body or mind, and yet, he's standing still, planted in one place, the view of his beloved s/o, the love of his life, painted in the orange-yellow glow of the setting sun, taking his breath away.

Sometimes he wonders, how did he get so lucky? Because he had to do something in his past life to deserve all this. There’s no way he just got lucky for no reason, it’s not possible, not for him.

“You alright, Samu?”

A simple question said in a gentle voice, was enough to snap the man out of the daze he was in. He was so in his thoughts that he didn't even register you looking over at him.

“Yeah… Yeah, I am, love. Sorry for that.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for, don’t worry. We all get lost in our thoughts sometimes.”

Oh… Dazai swears that if he were to die right now, even if in the most painful way imaginable, it would still be a happy death.

He cannot comprehend your care. For other people, objects, opinions, all sorts of things… and him. He will never understand how can you care for him out of all people. Past him would argue that he simply doesn’t deserve it, and present him can’t fully disagree but… if you decided he deserves it, or needs it, as you once said, he will take it all. His heart never would, still can’t, and never will be able to stand the precious love that comes from you.

Dazai was aware you were about to speak, but he still went with what he wished to do. A hand gently touched yours, grasping it softly before bringing it up a little, effectively stopping you from speaking.

Once he brought your hand up enough, around the height of his hips, he could be seen leaning down, seemingly bowing before placing a gentle kiss upon your knuckles while keeping eye contact with you the entire time.

If there’s one thing he could promise to never get tired of, it would definitely be the light red hue blossoming upon your cheeks every time.

ʚїɞ Does it as an actual greeting

ʚїɞ He woke up and said "Let's be an asshole to everyone but the love of my life, Let's be a gentleman to them instead"

ʚїɞ He ALWAYS goes for the knuckles

ʚїɞ He bows on occasions, but most of the time he raises your hand up to his lips to place a gentle kiss, usually as a hello or goodbye

////////////////

The moon shined brightly tonight, giving everything that met the gentle glow a serene silver look.

Serenity. Something Fyodor doesn't have unless he finds himself inside the four walls of his home. Something he always, with no fail, finds near you. You, the figure he's been looking at for the previous half a minute.

The dark-haired man was planning on leaving the house quietly, with little to no sound to ensure that his beloved wouldn't wake, yet there you were. Glowing under the moonlight shining through the window not too far away from your person like a fairy, like an angel that decided to bless him with their presence. 'Like the moon is calling out to them' he thought.

“So? Will you answer my question, Fedya?”

A quiet, gentle voice snapped Fyodor out of the trance he found himself in. He always does it whenever you both are awake at such ungodly hours, doesn’t he?

“Yeah. Just have to go look through something, won’t take too long, myshka.”

And he can’t help it. The way you look under the moonlight will always take the air out of his lungs for a short minute. The way it makes your hair shine gently, the way your figure fits into the grey shades around you, the way it makes your eyes look so serene.

A sigh came from your direction before you spoke up. “Just come back safe, please.”

He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve you and your care. He’s aware of that fact. Fyodor was aware of what he did for his plans, and that someone else who would do something like he does, wouldn’t most likely get such care from someone so delicate.

It doesn’t matter how you look, because in his eyes you’re like a fragile doll, something that could be broken if not looked after properly. The dark-haired man doesn’t know how he got your heart, but he guessed he had to get simply lucky. Fyodor didn’t manipulate you, even if it was in his plans, had you happened to not fall for him through his advances, but you did. It was all you.

“You know I will.”

A promise he swore to keep. After all, in his eyes there had to be someone to protect you. His figure could be seen walking up to you in a calm manner before he slowly stuck out his hand towards you, a sign for you to give him your hand yourself. You did so. It would be a crime if he said he never noticed how your eyes always seem to soften up at his gesture.

Fyodor could’ve been seen raising your hand up to his lips, before planting a gentle goodbye kiss upon your knuckles.

Serenity. A word foreign to Fyodor before you came into his life, but he couldn’t have been more grateful for that.

Notes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated

#idk why this is my fav but for some reason it's so satisfying #to read for me #bsd x reader #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd x y/n #bsd x you #x reader #dazai x reader #fyodor x reader #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #bsd fyodor #bungo stray dogs x reader

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cnnmairoll · 6 months

Text

Birthdays With Them

Character(s) : Jing Yuan, Luka (My favs !!) Genre : Fluff a/n : My borfday!! wippieee >< I finally got my ass up to write something but its for me :sob: I'll try my best to produce more fics once i have the motivation for it! I apologize deeply for those who sent me requests in my inbox that I have not answer yet! Also the idea is inspired by the beloved @particular-one

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the Xianzhou Luofu in a soft, orange glow, the courtyard of your shared residence was bathed in the gentle illumination of lanterns. It was your birthday, and you had been looking forward to spending the day with Jing Yuan. Though he was known for his meticulous nature, today was a day for celebration and a break from his usual responsibilities as the leader of the Cloud Knights.

Jing Yuan had put in a great deal of effort to make this day special. He had an unexpected talent for planning and orchestrating surprises, which had never ceased to amaze you. His seemingly lazy demeanor belied his meticulous attention to detail, especially when it came to matters close to his heart.

You'd spent the morning with him, starting with a leisurely breakfast. Jing Yuan had prepared all your favorite dishes, even ones that weren't commonly found in Xianzhou Luofu. The two of you had laughed and shared stories as the morning sun filtered through the windows.

In the afternoon, you'd taken a stroll through the picturesque gardens that surrounded your home. It was a rare sight to see Jing Yuan so at ease, his usual seriousness giving way to a relaxed smile.

As the evening approached, you found yourself drawn to the enchanting lantern-lit courtyard. The soft, golden light created a magical atmosphere, and the melodious sound of wind chimes filled the air. You were sitting together on a beautifully embroidered silk blanket, placed atop the grass, while the soothing fragrance of jasmine blossoms wafted around you.

Jing Yuan handed you a small, intricately carved wooden box, its lid adorned with delicate patterns and a ribbon that matched your favorite color. Your heart swelled with gratitude as you carefully untied the ribbon and opened the box. Inside, nestled in a bed of velvet, was a pendant. It was a stunning piece of jewelry, a silver moon and stars, studded with tiny sapphires, which shone like the night sky itself.

"It's for you," Jing Yuan said, his voice soft and full of affection. "I thought it would remind you of the nights we spend stargazing together."

Touched by the thoughtful gift, you smiled and leaned in to kiss him. His lips were soft and warm against yours, a testament to the deep love and connection that had grown between you two.

After your tender moment, he motioned to a table laden with an array of delicious desserts. There were mooncakes, a variety of fruit tarts, and a cake that seemed to have been decorated with your favorite colors.

"I couldn't decide which dessert you might like best, so I got them all," Jing Yuan said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Feel free to indulge."

You indulged indeed, savoring the sweetness of the mooncakes and the delicate flavors of the fruit tarts. With each bite, you were overwhelmed by the love and care that Jing Yuan had put into this special day.

As the night wore on, the two of you lay on the blanket, gazing up at the stars. Jing Yuan had a vast knowledge of constellations, and he pointed out the ones that held special meaning for you. The entire world seemed to disappear as you lay there, wrapped in each other's warmth and the tranquility of the night.

Jing Yuan had one final surprise. He produced a delicate paper lantern, its sides decorated with your favorite flowers. With a shared smile, you both lit it, and it floated up into the sky, carried away by the gentle breeze. Watching it ascend, you made a silent wish for the happiness and love that you'd found in each other's arms.

As the lantern disappeared into the darkness, Jing Yuan pulled you close, his arm draped around your shoulders, and whispered, "Happy birthday, my love. I hope this day has been as special for you as you are to me."

You woke up to the soft caress of sunlight streaming through your curtains, and as you stretched beneath the warm covers, you couldn't help but smile. Today was your birthday, a day you had been eagerly anticipating, not just for the gifts and cake, but for the special celebration you knew was waiting for you.

As you made your way downstairs, you were met with the delicious aroma of freshly baked pastries. The scent led you straight to the kitchen, where you found Luka in his element, donned in a flour-dusted apron, his red hair tied into that charming ponytail, and his robotic arm working with precision.

"Good morning, birthday star!" he beamed, turning to greet you with a flour-covered hand, which you gladly accepted. "I've been up early, preparing something special for you."

Your heart swelled with affection as you watched him fussing over the pastries, occasionally sneaking you a warm, floury kiss. He was a master of surprises, and you couldn't wait to see what he had in store for you.

After a leisurely breakfast, Luka led you to the living room, where he had transformed it into a cozy haven of pillows and blankets. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation as he handed you a neatly wrapped gift. It was a small, intricately carved wooden box.

With a grin, you opened the box to reveal a beautiful silver necklace with a delicate pendant, shaped like a tiny boxing glove. "Happy birthday, my love," Luka whispered, his eyes filled with adoration as he helped you put it on. "It's a symbol of our strength together."

Touched by the heartfelt gift, you leaned in for a kiss, savoring the softness of his lips and the warmth of his embrace. "I love it, Luka. Thank you," you murmured.

Luka smiled, leaning in to kiss you gently. "I'm glad you like it, but the day is far from over, my love. There's more in store for you."

The two of you spent the day exploring the city hand in hand. Luka had planned a perfect itinerary filled with all your favorite activities. You visited the art gallery where you admired the paintings and sculptures, hand in hand, Luka whispering sweet nothings in your ear. You then headed to the park, where you shared a romantic picnic under the shade of a towering oak tree.

After the picnic, Luka surprised you with a visit to a local animal shelter, knowing how much you adored animals. The two of you spent time playing with puppies, and Luka couldn't help but laugh as one of the dogs affectionately licked your face. "Even the puppies know you're special," he teased.

Luka led you to a cozy little cafe. It was a place you both loved, filled with the soothing aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

Sitting across from each other, you sipped your drinks and shared stories, reliving memories of your time together. Luka's eyes sparkled as he gazed at you, and his hand found its way to yours beneath the table.

"I'm grateful for every moment I get to spend with you, my shining star," Luka said, his voice filled with sincerity. "You make my life brighter every single day."

Your heart swelled with love and appreciation as you replied, "I feel the same way, Luka. You make every day an adventure, and I'm so lucky to have you in my life."

With that, you spent the rest of the evening lost in each other's company, celebrating your love and the beautiful journey you had embarked on together. As the night grew darker and the city lights sparkled around you, you knew that this birthday would be one for the books, a day filled with surprises, love, and the magic of Luka's unwavering devotion.

#˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ mai writes #honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr jing yuan x reader #hsr jing yuan #honkai star rail jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #jing yuan #luka #luka hsr x reader #luka honkai star rail #luka strongarm #luka hsr #luka x reader #honkai star rail luka

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marmot567 · 21 days

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bitter orange — okkotsu yūta [1/3]

pairings. okkotsu yūta + f! reader/original character (main); past!orimito rika + f!reader; past!okkotsu yūta + orimito rika warnings/themes. mentions of death, jealousy, hints of obsession and possession. just a lil dark romance practice (which is barely any dark romance tbh who am i kidding) sprinkled with food motifs but i dont know what im doing im just here for the vibes :P mostly sfw with nsfw themes but nothing sexual bc im too scared to go down that dark path (also no use of y/n bc i started writing with an original name and it unfortunately stuck lawl... can be treated as either or it doesnt matter tbh i cant write anything outside of 2nd person anwyay) word count. 2.8k words nothing too crazy xd playlist. knuckle velvet, ethel cain; velvet ring, big thief; pure, cigarettes after sex; only in the dreams, the marias; be my mistake, the 1975; mary, alex g next

it’s been a long time since i have seen my beloved. the moss has grown on that abetachibana tree

PART ONE: ichigo daifuku

Gojō Satoru tells you that love is the most twisted curse of them all.

He had said it in passing after your first solo mission, right as you were entering the car back to Jujutsu Tech before talking your ear off with his lame jokes. The mission had consisted of exorcizing a curse that had persistently haunted an abandoned apartment complex in Omotesandō, assigned to you by the higher-ups in accordance with your newly promoted rank as a Grade 2 sorcerer, having decided that a Grade 1 was doable enough for someone of your caliber. The curse itself wasn’t anything special, though, only repeating gargled confessions of its love to some ‘Chiyo-chan’—whoever she was—the whole time you were dodging its attacks, which was incredibly annoying. You liked your battles in silence, quick and succinct, but curses make that difficult to achieve.

Gojō muses it could have been a past lover, this Chiyo-chan—its love for her having cursed itself. You didn’t really care. If you keep up the good work, complete your required missions and get another recommendation, you could be ranked a Semi-Grade 1 by your second year, then a Grade 1 by your third and nothing else after that because unless you were someone like Gojō Satoru, then you are capped forever at Grade 1.

“So anyway—snacks you like?” said sorcerer asks, finally done with his previous tale. Something about an old coworker. “Mochi, senbei, or taiyaki? Personally, I'm a mochi ice cream type of guy!”

You look at him.

“Why are you here again?”

“... Is your memory that small, Ume? I was proctoring you,” he tuts, mouth turned downwards. “Congrats on the promotion, by the way.”

You shrug. “Ichigo daifuku is good, I guess.”

He smiles, wryly.

“You’re joking, right?”

The building facing your childhood home had been home to Orimito Rika, an unsuspecting property with a decent front yard and the occasional street cat or two often shooed away by her irate grandmother. “Mean granny,” you’d often call her, the insult drowned out by your hushed giggles as you played with your dolls. Rika wouldn’t say anything about it, wouldn’t dare verbally agree with you, but she would always nod her head down, the corners of her lips turned up too high.

You didn’t particularly hate the old woman, but there was a certain kind of satisfaction to saying it behind her back after all the times you’ve caught her looking at her granddaughter in unbridled scorn, your own little form of revenge. You could never understand how her only remaining family could look at her like that, not when Rika was so beautiful and kind; like the cherry blossoms during spring, falling gently along with the wind. Sure, she could be a little cunning at times, and none of the other kids at school liked her because “something’s odd about her, can’t you just hang out with us instead?”—but that’s what makes her interesting, right?

Rika isn’t weird, she’s pretty, and you’re the bee drawn to her. She’s only older than you by a year, ten instead of nine, but she always played with you, taught you how to make flower crowns at the park, and when you walked home from school she’d always hold your hand. Her smile is blindingly bright, the sound of her voice a song you couldn’t stop listening to. Selfishly, you wish it would always be the two of you together; playing with your dolls, walking home with your hands intertwined.

But when she came back from the hospital, so did Okkotsu Yūta.

You could never see what she saw in him; he was short and just a little bit pathetic, always trailing after her like a lost puppy at first. You could push him off the swing and he'd move on with a sniffle, the kind to give up the plastic shovel even though he desperately needed it to finish his sand castle because he didn’t want to fight a girl. He smiled shyly and hid his hands behind his back, looking at you like he was looking for your approval. Of course, you never gave him the time of day, because it felt like he had stolen Rika—your Rika. It was supposed to be just you and her, but that wasn’t the case anymore. Now there was Okkotsu Yūta, who held Rika’s other hand after school, who took away her attention from you so easily.

“He’s so cute, isn’t he?” she asks often, a light blush dusting her face.

“I guess,” is your reply.

“Ne,” she calls, presenting to you a small, black box. You look at it in apprehension, wincing when she eventually opens it. “What do you think of this ring? It was my mom’s. I’m gonna give this to Yūta-kun, do you think he’ll like it?”

The ring was immensely simple, a silver-colored band with a small diamond in front, glinting under the light. Nevermind the fact that it was too big for a child’s fingers to fit in, Rika presented it to you as if it held all the answers to the world. Although her parents were dead, and she had definitely stolen it from her grandmother’s dresser, the ring spoke full of promise. When she takes it out of the box and lets you inspect it, it feels heavy.

“... You really like him, don’t you, Rika-chan?” you ask, quietly.

Rika looks at the stupid piece of jewelry, painfully smitten.

“Mhm,” she affirms. “I really like Yūta-kun. I want to be with him forever! Of course, I like you too, Ume-chan. You and Yūta-kun are my favorite people in the world!”

You close the box, handing it back to her. When Rika looks at you expectantly, you realize then that you could never bring yourself to take that happiness away from her.

The koinobori flies.

“It’s so pretty!” Rika exclaims, eyes wide and staring up at the sky where the huge, windsock carp moves around. It’s bathed in all sorts of colors—from red to blue to white to green—dancing along the azure expanse in commemoration of Children’s Day. The weather is just right, not too hot nor too cold, and the wind caresses your skin gently, the sun not too harsh. It makes the color of Rika’s hair shine in all the right ways, adds more sparkle in her already bright eyes. She’s wearing a yellow sundress, a nice change from her usual blue one. The cream-colored hat you let her borrow covers her face with the shade, but her smile remains bright and blinding. She looks pretty.

She gives you all of her ichigo daifuku, and shares Yūta’s snacks. She doesn’t even like chimaki.

“Are you sure, Rika-chan?” you ask, looking at the two sweets in your hands.

She beams. “You like them, don’t you?”

You keep them with you until the end of the event.

The day passes by incredibly fast, your little trio having exhausted yourselves from running around the park alongside the other children. Yūta chases Rika around the park, and you watch them squeal and laugh at each other and hold hands. You watch them take a nap under the shade, their pinkies intertwined, and you watch as the ugly color of green blinds your eyesight. You leave them be.

Sometimes, you wish you’re the colorful koinobori flying in the sky. You’d let Rika hold on to you, let her fly and hear her amused laugh as the wind tickles her skin. Sometimes, you wish Yūta slapped the ring away from her hands when she handed it to him. Wish he stomped it on the ground and at the same time stomped on her heart. Wish he didn’t take it with a huge smile and agree that he’d marry her when they get older; he’s not the one who’d wait long lines just to get her the best ichigo daifuku, not the one who’d jump at the other kids when they so much as think of insulting her, and he won’t be the one who’d choose to stay with her when she’s all gray and old cause he’s a boy, and boys would never do that.

Sometimes, you wish he never liked her at all—because he never deserved her in the first place.

Okkotsu Yūta could never love Orimito Rika like you.

He sits beside you at lunch.

Rika’s been bedridden for the whole week, which subsequently ruins your week. Yūta doesn’t seem to mind her absence all that much since he doesn’t see her a lot during classes anyway, but they’re supposed to be engaged. He should always be thinking of her, should be acting as miserable as you even at the unripe age of nine. He looks too okay with her absence when he shouldn’t be.

“What’s this?” you ask, pointing at the small bag of snacks he had placed on the cover of your bento.

“Hm?” he looks up. “Oh, it’s norimaki senbei.”

“... And?” you prod.

He tilts his head. “You don’t want it?”

“... I don’t want it.”

He looks at you thoughtfully.

“But you like them, don’t you?” he asks though he’s acting like he already knows, like you’ll take it regardless of what you say. It’s annoying.

You look at the seaweed-wrapped rice crackers—the stupid norimaki senbei—in mild contempt. “Why are you giving it to me?”

Yūta’s smile is small, knowing. “Because you don’t like sweets.”

You frown.

She’s a sweet girl.

You think of Orimoto Rika like that because it’s true—she smiles sweetly, she speaks sweetly, and she likes sweet things. She tells you that her favorite snack is ichigo daifuku, the very same confection you always begged your parents to buy for you just so you could share them with her. It pays off all the time because then she’d look as sweet as the daifuku itself, her cheeks as red as the fruit within it. She also likes hanami dango, but she doesn’t like the green part because she doesn’t really like the subtle taste of yomogi, so you eat the rest for her because she doesn’t want to waste it. She likes cold tea instead of hot, sweet instead of savory, like yuzu iced tea or bubbly ramune in comparison to the nutty taste of hōjicha. When you go to the store, she always gets the kompeitō with some random anime character on the packaging because those were the “cutest kind of kompeitō,” and Rika likes cute things.

She also likes the color pink, but when you ask her what her favorite color is she’d say it’s blue. It’s blue not because she wears that blue dress all the time, but blue because it’s the color of Okkotsu Yūta’s eyes, bright and round and always looking at her. Rika likes it that way—she likes how Okkotsu Yūta is always looking at her with his blue eyes, unwavering and full of adoration for her and her only.

You think Orimito Rika is a sweet girl, but sometimes she’s more than that. Sometimes, when the other kids get brave enough to drag you away from her, tell you to stop hanging out with her, they say it’s because Rika doesn’t like anyone else but Okkotsu Yūta.

Sometimes, when they tell you that, you wonder if Rika liked you at all, way before Okkotsu Yūta came into the picture.

But most of the time, you don’t really care. Even if Rika didn’t like you, you’d still like her. Even if she’d only have her eyes set on Okkotsu Yūta with his stupid blue eyes and his stupid norimaki senbei and stupid chimaki that he shared with her on the fifth of May, you’d still like her because she’s Rika—beautiful, kind, and wonderful Rika.

She has things she doesn’t like, too, such as other people but never Yūta-kun or Ume-chan! She likes it when people compliment her and praise her looks and give her free stuff like ramune or ichigo daifuku or Sailor Moon-themed kompeitō from the store, but sometimes she tells you that she dislikes this certain group of girls from Yūta’s class, dislikes the boy assigned as your seatmate, her homeroom teacher, the “weird” guy who works at the konbini a street over, and dislikes it even more when her grandmother looks at her and tells her she killed her own father without even saying anything at all.

You know all those things because you know Orimito Rika. You like her even if she holds intense dislike for the people outside her circle, people who tick her off just a little for you to see her smile crack at the edges and go stiff, the little twitch of her brown eyes, and most importantly, you still like her when all she wants in the world is the attention of the boy who wears her deceased mother’s ring.

You’ll always want sweet girls like her.

“Where’s Rika-chan?”

“Her grandma won’t let her go out today,” Yūta says, sitting next to you on the bench. “So it’s just you and me.”

He says it dejectedly, but it’s not enough for you. If he was really sad, then he’d be as sad as you are, so you start packing your belongings. “I’m leaving, then.”

He startles, standing up. “Huh? W–wait! Don’t leave just yet!”

“But Rika-chan’s not here,” you frown. “There’s no point in hanging out today.”

He falters, looking down at the ground.

“Even if she isn’t here, we can still play together…” he offers, looking up at you timidly. “We’re friends, too, aren’t we?”

The green-eyed monster stares at the silver chain wrapped around his neck, the ring acting as its pendant tucked underneath his shirt—like an unattainable treasure trapped inside a chest with the key thrown away somewhere you cannot find it. We’re not friends, the monster says with a snarl, stay away from me.

If there is one thing you know, then it’s that you have never wanted to be friends with Okkotsu Yūta, not after he took everything from you. He can butter you up by sticking to you during class and sitting next to you at lunch and even offering you some of his not-ichigo daifuku, not-yuzu iced tea, and not-colorful anime-themed kompeitō but you will and have never liked him for the green-eyed monster will always sit on your shoulder so long as he wears that ring on his person, a physical manifestation of his promise with Rika. Your Rika, even if that’s not really the case.

You will never like Okkotsu Yūta, because—because he—

“... What’re we even gonna do?” you ask, slowly.

He immediately brightens up.

“… Wanna get ice cream?” he offers. “There’s a new flavor I wanna try!”

His suggestion does not entice you at all, but when he stands there with an outstretched hand waiting for you to take it, like it’ll matter if you reject him, you find yourself at a crossroads. But you make your decision soon enough. Like it’ll matter, like the green-eyed monster isn’t there, staring.

“Okay,” you say, moving past him to start walking. He blinks incredulously at the blatant rejection before gathering himself and following after you, a prep to his step regardless of your actions.

You try to ignore the warmth of his body next to yours.

He’s too close.

“Yūta-kun’s birthday is in a few days,” Rika announces, lying on your spare futon. “Did you get him anything?”

You didn’t. “... Yeah.”

“Really? What is it?” she cranes her neck to face you. “What’d you get him?”

She doesn’t want your gift being better than hers, it checks out. “Um… just a toy. A garbage truck.”

“Oh, okay,” she turns back to face the ceiling. “I made him a scrapbook with photos of us. I worked really hard on it… do you think he’ll like it?”

“He’ll like anything you give him.”

She’s already given him a ring—what else could compare to that?

Rika smiles. “I guess… you’re right.”

Soon enough, she goes to sleep, breathing softly beside you as your fan fills the silence of the night. You continue staring at the ceiling, making out the little dents despite the lack of light. You squeeze the hand that holds your under the cover, before closing your eyes.

You hear her softly breathe on a steady beat alongside the fan whirring in the corner, and you close your eyes, squeezing her hand tighter underneath the covers of your too-close futon.

You’ll have to ask your parents for some money tomorrow.

“Rika-chan isn’t here again,” Yūta says dejectedly. “Her granny’s too strict.”

“She hates her,” you say quietly.

Yūta looks at you, confused. “What’d you say?”

“Nothing. Your birthday’s coming up soon, what are you doing that day?”

“Uwah—you remember?”

“Rika-chan told me.”

“Oh, well,” he smiles sheepishly, “we have school that day, but after that I’ll be celebrating at my house. I’m thinking of just inviting Rika-chan and you over… um, so, will you come?”

“I’ll go if Rika-chan is going.”

He blinks, before a smile blooms on his face. “Okay! I’ll see you, then.”

It happens when you aren't there.

It never should have happened at all.

Orimito Rika is pronounced dead at the age of eleven, her body unrecognizable under the heavy weight of a blue truck.

#yuuta okkotsu x reader #jjk #yuta okkotsu #jujutsu kaisen #jjk okkotsu #jjk x reader #yuuta okkotsu x you #yuta x reader #okkotsu yuta x reader #okkotsu yuta x you #okkotsu yuuta #yuuta okkotsu smut #jjk imagines

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thegeyisshowing · 7 months

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Oh, baby....

Fluff level 10000000%

Pairing: Larissa Weems x Wife!reader

Summary: Your wife Larissa and you sit down and have a talk. Absolute fluff and more chapters to come!

Warnings: None

Chapter 1: Did you just say that?

Y/n and Larissa stood hand in hand, their fingers entwined like the roots of two ancient trees. The setting sun painted the sky in hues of pink and orange, casting a warm glow over the idyllic countryside just outside of Nevermore where they had chosen to build their life together.

It had been three years since they had exchanged vows under a canopy of oak trees, surrounded by their closest friends and family. The two had joined their lives in a union that defied conventions and captured hearts from everyone around, even their students.

Their love had grown stronger with each passing day, a testament to the undeniable connection they shared. The students and other teachers gossiped about them "sneaking around," but they paid no attention. They had each other, and that was all that mattered.

As they strolled through the lush meadow that stretched out behind their charming farmhouse, Y/N's heart swelled with happiness. She looked up at her beloved Larissa, whose striking blue eyes sparkled with an undeniable joy.

"Lissa," Y/n whispered, her voice trembling with emotion, "I can't believe how lucky I am to have you in my life. Every day with you feels like a dream come true."

Larissa squeezed your hand gently and smiled down at her. "Honey, you are my everything. I cherish every moment we share together."

The wind whispered through the trees, carrying with it a sense of anticipation, as if nature itself was holding its breath, waiting for the next chapter of their story to unfold.

That evening, after a delicious homemade dinner, the couple sat together on their cozy porch swing, gazing up at the summer starlit sky. Y/N nestled her head against Larissa's shoulder, feeling a sense of peace wash over her.

As the night went on, you turned to your wife with a mysterious glint in her eye. "Lissa, I have something to ask you," she said, her voice filled with a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

You looked up as your heart raced. "What is it, my love? You're making me curious."

A slow, radiant smile spread across your face. "I think... I think I want to have a baby."

Time seemed to stand still as Larissa processed your words. Her eyes widened with disbelief and then overflowed with tears of joy. She threw her arms around you, holding you tightly.

"Oh, Y/N, you've just made me the happiest person in the world!" Larissa exclaimed, her voice trembling with emotion. "A baby? Our baby? As in you want to make a mini us?"

You nodded, your own eyes brimming with tears. "Yes, Lissa, our baby. I have been really thinking about it, and it feels like there is a hole right here." You pointed to your chest and looked down. "Like I can't stop the dreams, and honestly, I don't want to. I know I said I didn't want kids, but this big house needs little feet running around. And so do I." You told her the last bit was almost a whisper.

"My love, I never wanted to push you, but I want that too. But I would sacrifice that to be with you. Are you completely positive you want to do this? She looked deep into your eyes, and you whispered, "Absolutely honey"

The night sky seemed to shimmer with newfound magic as you held each other, envisioning the beautiful journey that lay ahead. Your love, which had already defied so many odds, was now blossoming into a new chapter, one filled with hope, dreams, and the promise of a family of your own.

Little did you two know that this tiny miracle soon to be growing within you would bring the two of you even closer together, forging an unbreakable bond that would transcend all challenges. A true love story, which had captured the schools' full attention, was about to become even more extraordinary as they embarked on the adventure of parenthood.

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #wednesday #baby #larissa x y/n #Larissa x wife!reader #fanfiction #original story

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sunspearesque · 3 months

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Fruitful

Summary: Oberyn Martell, a lover of great generosity, expresses his love primarily through acts of service. With a keen memory, he spares no effort to exceed expectations in bringing joy to his beloved.

A/N: as the world around me becomes entranced by "the orange theory," my thoughts wander to what he might do for his lover... so i wrote this; a casual smut-less headcanon using my AU, where his lover is my oc, Nala, from my upcoming multichapter fic, Whispers of Vendetta :D i hope you enjoy it, friends xoxo i also invite my fellow writers to do this with their favorite characters and share their headcanons with us <3

In the warm embrace of a Dornish afternoon, he reclined on their balcony, sharing the company of his beloved amid a plethora of succulent fruits and Dornish wine. His daughters engaged in rigorous training in front of them on the ground.

"My mother used to peel fruits for me," Nala chuckled, peeling a pear for Oberyn on the velvety lounge chair they shared. "I despised the stickiness afterward."

"Is that so?" Adjusting his position, he kissed her shoulder. "And why do you find yourself peeling fruits now?" Another kiss, this time on her neck.

"I don't know..." Turning her head to meet his gaze, she smiled. "Perhaps it's because I love you."

Unable to resist, Oberyn's arms enveloped her waist, pulling her close as he showered her cheeks with kisses, eliciting giggles from her.

"But I've never liked pears," she panted after his affectionate onslaught.

Arching an eyebrow, he inquired, "Then what is your preference, my little love?"

"Pomegranates," she answered, her gaze fixed on his lips.

"Exotic," he smirked.

"And oranges."

The Next Morning...

"Veros, I need you to fetch the preeminent farmer in Dorne and send them to Essos. Instruct them to procure the finest orange and pomegranate seeds," Oberyn commanded, his voice cutting through the air. He scanned his surroundings, his eyes piercing, as he added, "I seek nothing less than the absolute best."

"Yes, my prince."

Two Years Have Passed...

Amidst the verdant gardens behind their castle, Oberyn and Nala sauntered, the world a palette of nature's hues. Suddenly, she halted, her gaze fixated on a tree. "I don't recall this tree being here," Nala remarked, squinting to inspect the blossoms.

Smiling, Oberyn embraced her from behind, "Indeed, my love. I instructed our gardener to plant them a few years past."

"I love them." Nala whispered.

"I love you more," he thought.

A Few Years Later...

In the early morning hours, Oberyn stealthily slipped out of their chamber, having received confirmation from their gardener that the trees were poised to bear fruit imminently. For ten consecutive days, he continued this clandestine ritual, checking until the moment arrived when both trees proudly displayed bright, ripe produce. With an exuberant grin, he hastened back to their chamber.

"Nala, my love," he whispered gently, seeking to rouse her.

"What's happened? Are you well?" Nala startled awake, her eyes wide with concern. "Are the girls alright?"

"We are well, my love, fret not." Cupping her cheeks in his palms, Oberyn reassured her, his thumb smoothing over them gently. "I need to show you something."

"This early?" She furrowed her brow, puzzled by his excitement.

"Yes, come on with me."

Taking her hand, he guided her out of their bed, wrapping her shoulders with his shawl. Together, they descended the stairs, exiting the castle, and stepped into their garden.

"What are you about?" she inquired, perplexed, as he knelt before her, tapping on his shoulders.

"Climb onto my shoulders, my love."

At first, hesitation lingered in her gaze, a questioning look that suggested he might have lost his wits—my old man driven to madness.

"And your back?" she reminded him cautiously.

"Climb, Nala," he repeated, a raised brow emphasizing his determination.

Slowly, she ascended his back, perching on his shoulder, her legs dangling over his chest.

"Hold on tight," he advised before rising to his feet, moving slowly toward the tree.

The tree, vibrant and teeming with life, bore numerous flowers, yet the fruits remained elusive, concealed among the leaves, shy of human touch.

He sensed her recognition when she gasped, almost slipping from his shoulders, before he steadied her with his hands on her thighs.

"Oberyn..." she whispered, tears welling in her eyes.

Squeezing her thighs on his shoulder, he conveyed reassurance—I know, my little love.

"Can you reach them?" he inquired.

"Yes," she responded quietly, sniffling. She reached out to pluck the bright oranges, three in total. Moving a few paces to the next tree, she picked the sole pomegranate. She used the hem of her nightgown to cradle the fruits before Oberyn lowered himself, allowing her to dismount from his shoulders.

Standing there, holding her gown with the fruits, tears streaming down her cheeks, her lips trembling, she looked at him—her prince, the love of her life. Loving her as if she were the sole soul worthy of such devotion. Seven years had passed, and he had orchestrated all of this because she had once reminisced about her childhood without realizing the impact of her words. He stood before her, a broad grin on his face, proud of his intricate plan. His sweat-adorned bangs clung to his forehead, his chest bare, golden, and tough—tough except when he cradled her in his arms. Dressed in white trousers with bare feet, he looked as majestic as ever. His grin waned as soon as he noticed the tears in her eyes. Swiftly, he moved towards her, cupping her face.

"Why this sorrow, my love?" he inquired, his gaze flickering anxiously between her eyes.

"Not sorrow. I just—just love you," she confessed, breaking into sobs. He enveloped her in a warm embrace, cupping her head, smoothing her hair, and pressing kisses to her temples.

Lifting her face, he kissed her gently, once, twice. He continued until joy eclipsed sadness within her. His kisses persisted until her laughter rang in his ears—and by the Gods, there’s nothing sweeter than your lover’s laughter in your mouth.

"Why did you do all of this, Oberyn?" she queried, gazing at him. "You know I relish the daily fruits we have."

"I know," he replied, kissing her again. "I want you to feel my love for you in these trees. Witness it blossom every moon, taste it, nourish yourself with it, live through it."

Because that’s what your love does to me.

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yourgaeyisshowing · 7 months

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Oh, baby....

Fluff level 10000000%

Pairing: Larissa Weems x Wife!reader

Summary: Your wife Larissa and you sit down and have a talk. Absolute fluff and more chapters to come!

Warnings: None