#wHAT?!!?!? WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT I STILL CAN'T BELIEVE IT.
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mr. big (social media au) - cs55
masterlist ||
Summary: The one where there he was, wearing armani on a sunday, your boyfriend, Carlos.
Pairing: carlos sainz x romance writer!reader (model used: random people i found on pinterest)
Warnings: none other than some cursing? carlos being an old money dream as always
Request: "For a smau, would love to see romance writer!reader with Carlos (he is just Disney prince vibes) where fans aren’t quite sure how they got together but the influence him on her work is greatly appreciated" by my lovely @percervall
Author note: OKAY JUST REALISED I AM A CARRIE AND BIG APOLOGIST, WHO WOULD'VE THOUGHT (i might be freaking out about them, but i will always be a charlotte girl)!!! (might honestly turn it into a series because who doesn't love a satc x old money crossover???)
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.
yourusername
Liked by carlossainz55, yourbestfriend, readersdigest and 438,927 others.
yourusername: busy, busy, busy bee.
user: thank you mother for feeding us with another hot billionaire novel
yourusername: you are more than welcome
user: how is she not only one of the best romance authors, but also a fashion icon??
user: can't wait to read what carlos inspired this time!!
carlossainz55: you are not wearing you glasses again, cariño
yourusername: why don't you come put them on yourself??
user: oh, they are so cute it's sickening
user: GIVE US THE MANUSCRIPT AND END OUR SUFFERING
view all 2,387 comments.
user: how did they get together again??
user: i think he ran into her at one of her book signings in madrid?
user: i thought it was when she went to the paddock for some good old r&d?
user: i heard somewhere that a friend set them up
yourusername posted a new story!
carlossainz55 posted a story!
yourusername
Liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, goodreads and 682,928 others.
yourusername: life lately & "between love and loathing" out june 23rd.
user: we love the romantic getaway, and a new book!!
user: we're being fed in more ways than one, and i am not complaining at all!!
user: oh shit, we're about to read the best romance novel of all time
view all 13,726 comments.
carlossainz55: i'm so proud of you, you have no idea
yourusername: way to make me cry
yourusername: i love you though
carlossainz55: te quiero más
user: I CAN'T BELIEVE THEY ARE THE OLD MONEY COUPLE WE NEEDED ALL ALONG AND WE DON'T KNOW HOW THEY STARTED DATING
user: it will remain forever a mystery
user: but at least we have content to keep us going through these hard times
carlossainz55
Liked by yourusername, scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc and 977,520 others.
carlossainz55: one of us made the pancakes, and one of us stood there looking pretty.
yourusername: hey, it was your turn to make breakfast
carlossainz55: and i loved every second of it
yourusername: even doing the dishes?
carlossainz55: especially doing the dishes
user: this is by far the most romance book thing this man has done
user: i still don't understand how they started dating, but good for them i guess
view all 35,726 comments.
landonorris: hey, i didn't get any pancakes, did you? @charles_leclerc
charles_leclerc: didn't even know we were having pancakes, where are our pancakes @carlossainz55
landonorris: and cooking in a towel?? how is that sanitary??
charles_leclerc: he's breaking at least a dozen health codes
carlossainz55: i hate you both
yourusername: you are all a pr nightmare
scuderiaferrari: i agree
user: damn he got lucky
yourusername
Liked by f1wagss, carlossainz55, sarahjessicaparker and 736,928 others.
yourusername: and there he was, wearing armani on a sunday, carlos sainz.
user: SHUT UP!!! SHUT THE FUCK UP!!
user: what kind of an iconic cunt slay is this
user: and just like that... they became the coolest couple on the internet
user: NEW NOVEL IDEA, SEX AND THE CITY RETELL WITH CARLOS
user: girl wtf
yourusername: no let her cook
yourusername: you might be onto something here
user: don't know if i want to be her or be carlos
view all 44,736 comments.
user: everybody say thank you mom for blessing us
carlossainz55: amor
yourusername: amor x2
user: oh she's working overtime god bless you
#monzabee#formula 1 x reader#social media au#f1 social media au#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#carlos sainz#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz imagine#formula one x reader#carlos sainz social media au
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Gone
Pairing: Mafia!Max x Wife!Reader
Rating: PG-17
Words: 1.3K
Warnings: Kidnapping, major angst, Mad!Max etc.
Requested: Yes/No
A/N: Soooo I chanaged the request and I apologize for that as I barely changed request but I felt like the children being taken would've fit better. Hope you love it!
Standing outside the school, you hold your little bump, smiling as you wait for the twins to come running out into your arms. You still can't believe you're wearing heels, but they help you see over some of the other parents, able to see all the babies come running.
Your guards stand on either side, your outfit perfect for the weather, a little blue dress that is flexible with your growing stomach. You see your twin's teacher and wave, wondering where your 5-year-old boys are. "Oh, Mrs. Verstappen, did one of the boys leave something?" Your guard's heads move around the yard quickly, trying to find the boys. "What do you mean, leave something?" You try to clamp down the panic. Maybe they had already rushed out of the building, and you didn't see them, and they're trying to find you.
"Two of your guards came to get them; they left about two hours ago." Taking a deep breath, you feel your world shift hearing that. "No, none of my guards came to get the boys." The teacher's eyes go wide, and you let out a little chuckle. "No, no, they must still be here. FABIAN! CASPER!" Your scream breaks across the yard, parents and children all looking at you as the guards rush around looking for the twins.
"Mrs. Verstappen," The teacher tries to touch you, but you back up, putting a protective arm around your stomach. "No! WHERE ARE MY SONS!"
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Max has never moved so fast in his life, breaking every traffic law, as three huge black SUVs tried to keep up with him, but there was no point. He was driving far too fast for them to keep up. Pulling up to the school, he slams the car in park as hoards of police move around. Getting out of the car, he first clocks your sobs.
"Schat!" Max screams and shoves past the police, crumpling to his knees and holding you close. "Where are my babies? Where are they!" You sob, sitting on one of the benches. Max has you close, trying to keep his anger in check, needing to be there for you.
"Baby, sweet angel, you must calm down. You might hurt the baby. Take deep breaths, please, for me." Max begs, his eyes wide and wild; you nod, trying to calm down as Max's men finally arrive and rush into the school. The police know better than to get in the way.
Taking deep breaths, you shake, Max kissing your hands and all over your face. "We'll find them, I promise to you. I won't come home without our sons," he promises, kissing your wedding ring. Maxie, it's almost time for dinner. They're going to be hungry, tired, and scared." You sob again, Max growling, pulling you into his arms.
"Sir! We found something!" Max turns their head, seeing his men as people still run around and searching the area. "I'll be back, I promise. Take my wife home, now," He snaps, the men nodding as you sob harder, holding one of the twin's jackets. Max stares at the small article of clothing and feels his heart stop. His boys, his soul, and his babies have been taken, and he doesn't know by whom. Or who would be stupid enough to do it?
Throwing the school door open, he breaks the window and splits the wood as he stalks into the office. "There," They point at the computer showing the screen as the two boys walk with the two men, Max noticing the tattoos on their hands. "Goddammit! How the fuck, did you miss having two of our ENEMIES HERE!" Grabbing anything he can reach, he throws it, watching as it shatters to the floor and breathes heavily.
"Find my sons, or else people will start losing their heads. FIND ME BOYS NOW!" Max roars, the men scattering like bugs as he breathes heavily, staring at the frozen image of Fabby laughing while Casper looks scared. "Cassie, Fabby, I'm coming, I swear," Max whispers.
--------------------
"Fabby, I'm scared. said Daddy and Mommy here." Casper whimpers as Fabian moves closer to his baby brother, ensuring he is safe. "Don't worry, Daddy come." Fabian knew this wasn't right, and Casper was far more scared and gentler than him. Fabian holds his brother closer, and Casper starts to cry as they sit in the small, cramped, dark room. "Okay, Cassie, okay," Fabian whispers.
They both jump, screaming as they hear loud explosions and screams in Dutch and another random language. "Where. Are. My. Children?" Casper perks up, hearing their daddy's voice. "DADDY!"
Max rips his head to the side and feels his blood run cold, seeing they are inside a box. Running over, he trips as he rips the lead off with his bare hands, blood everywhere, as he looks down at his babies. "Cassie, Fabby," He whispers, and Fabian and Casper look up at him.
"Daddy, uppie!" Cassie whispers, holding his arms out; Max throws his gun away and grabs the boys, lifting them out and holding them close to his chest. Sliding down, he starts to cry, having been so terrified. "Daddy, I stayed strong for Cassie," Fabian whispers, his bottom lip jutting. Max sniffles, crying as he covers Fabby in kisses as Casper, sweet little Cassie, finally being safe, sleeps in his father's arms.
"You're so brave, my strong little cub." Max sobs and Fabian finally starts to cry. "Daddy, home." Max nods, standing on shaking legs, running on pure terror and adrenaline.
---------------
"Casper! Fabian!" You cry as Max enters the house holding the boys. "Mommy! Hungry!" Caspian laughs, and you sob, seeing they are okay as Max sits them down. They come running into your arms. "Are you and the baby okay?" Max whispers, sitting on the floor with you as the boys cuddle into your arms. We're okay now." Max nods and pulls you three into his arms.
You don't ask him about the tear stains, nor do you question the blood all over him either. "They're not going back to that school," Max makes a face, and you sigh as Casper and Fabby start to fight. "Yeah, it might've burned down," You can't help the wet chuckle that leaves your throat as you cuddle closer to your husband. Max sighs, "We need to go to bed," Max whispers, taking Casper, who giggles and snuggles into Max while Fabian gets sleepy in your hold.
Nodding, you take the boys to the bathroom, running a bath as the house crawls with guards. "We're never leaving them," You whimper as you help them undress. Max nods. He'd been scared before, but this terror he felt when he got the phone call stopped his world. Max couldn't breathe; he was terrified in a way he never wanted to feel again. The boys giggle and play in the bath as you stare at his hands. "They're fine, just some cuts." He explains, and you grab his hands, kissing them gently.
"Thank you, thank you for bringing our boys home." Max looks down and pulls you into his chest. "I'll always bring them home," Caspier yawns loudly, and you smile, both of you picking a twin up and getting them dressed in their favorite PJs. "Want to sleep with Mommy and Daddy?" Max asks; even if they said no, he wasn't going to allow it; he couldn't let them out his sight, terrified he'd wake up, and they'd still be gone.
"Yes!" They both giggle, and Max gently tosses them onto the bed as you climb in, wearing one of his shirts, Max. He undresses and cleans himself up as he stops and stares at Fabby curled on your chest practically, sleeping, and Cassie is sitting up, trying his hardest to stay awake. "Cuddles, Daddy." Max smiles softly, climbs into the bed, and pulls Cassie, you, and Fabian close, kissing each of you. Max takes a deep breath and sighs, closing his eyes as he listens to the soft breathing of his babies.
They were okay.
#f1#f1 fandom#formula one#f1 x reader#f1 x y/n#f1 scenario#f1 imagine#formula 1#f1 fiction#f1 fanfiction#f1 fics#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 angst#f1 fluff#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x you#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen angst#max verstappen oneshot#max verstappen f1#mafia!f1#f1!mafia#mafia!max verstappen
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"Let's Have a Talk, First"- Stereotypes, pt 1
Come sit down. You and I, before we get into any of the things I'm sure you're impatient to know: we need to have a come to Jesus talk, first.
There are some things that I've been asked and seen that strengthens my belief that we need to have a reframing of the conversation on stereotypes in media away from something as simple as "how do I find the checklist of stereotypes to avoid". Because race- and therefore racial stereotypes- is a complex construct! Stands to reason then, that seeing, understanding, and avoiding it won't be that simple! I'm going to give you a couple pointers to (hopefully) help you rethink your approach to this topic, and therefore how to apply it when you're writing Black characters- and even when thinking about Black people!
Point #1: DEVELOP THE CHARACTER!! WRITE!!
Excuse my crude language, but let me be blunt: Black people- and therefore Black characters- will get angry at things, and occasionally make bad choices in the heat of the moment. Some of us like to fuck real nasty, some might be dominant in the bedroom, they may even be incredibly experienced! Others of us succumb to circumstance and make poor decisions that lead to crime.
None of those things inherently makes any of us angry Black women and threatening Black men, Jezebels and BBC Mandingos, and gangsters and thugs!
Black people are PEOPLE! Write us as such!
If all Black characters ever did was go outside, say "hi neighbor!" and walk back in the house, we'd be as boring as racist fans often accuse.
I say this because I feel I've seen advice that I feel makes people think writing a Black character that… Emotes negatively, or gets hurt by life and circumstance, or really enjoys hard sex, or really any scenario where they might "look bad" is the issue. I can tell many people think "well if I write that, then it's a stereotype" and to avoid the difficulty, they'll probably end up writing a flat Black character or not writing them at all. Or- and I've seen this too- they'll overcompensate in the other direction, which reveals that they 'wrote a different sort of Black person!' and it comes off just as awkwardly because it means you think that the Black people that do these things are 'bad'. And I hate that, because we're capable of depth, nuance, good, evil, adventure, world domination, all of it!
My point is, if you write your character like the human being they are, while taking care to recognize that you as the writer are not buying into stereotypes with your OWN messaging, you're fine. We have emotions, we have motivations and goals, we make decisions, and we make mistakes, just like anybody else. Write that! Develop your character!
POINT #2: YOU CAN'T CONTROL THE READERS!!
Okay. You can write the GREATEST Black character ever, full of depth, love, nuance, emotional range, all those things…. And people are still going to be racist about them. Sorry. There is absolutely nothing you can do to control a reader coming from that place of bias you sought to avoid. If it's not there, TRUST AND BELIEVE, it'll be projected onto them.
That passionate young Black woman who told the MC to get her head out of her ass? Yeah she's an angry Black bitch now, and bully to the sweet white MC. Maybe a lesbian mommy figure if they like her enough to "redeem" her. That Black gay male lead that treats his partner like he worships the ground he walks on? Yeah he's an abusive thug that needs to die now because he disagreed One Time with his white partner. That Black trans woman who happened to be competing against the white MC, in a story where the white MC makes comparable choices? Ohhhh they're gonna be VILE about that poor woman.
It really hurts- most especially as a Black fan and writer- knowing that you have something amazing to offer (as a person and creative) and people are gonna spit on that and call it "preference". That they can project themselves onto white characters no matter what, but if you project your experiences onto black characters, it's "pandering", "self insert", "woke", "annoying", "boring", and other foul things we've all gotten comments of.
But expect that it's gonna happen when you write a Black character, again, especially if you're a Black writer. If you're not Black, it won't hurt as personally, but it will probably come as a shock when you put so much effort in to create a lovely character and people are just ass about them. Unfortunately, that is the climate of fandom we currently exist in.
My favorite example is of Louis De Pointe Du Lac from AMC's Interview With The Vampire. Louis is actually one of the best depictions of the existential horror that is being Black in a racist White world I have ever seen written by mostly nonblack people. It was timeless; I related to every single source of racist pain he experienced.
People were HORRIFIC about Louis.
It didn't matter that he was well written and what he symbolized; many white viewers did NOT LIKE this man. There's a level of empathy and understanding that Black characters in particular don't receive in comparison to white counterparts, and that's due to many of those stereotypes and systemic biases I'm going to talk about.
My point is, recognize that while yes, you as the author have a duty to write a character thoughtfully as you can, it's not going to stop the response of the ignorant. Writing seeking to get everyone to understand what you were trying to do… Sisyphean effort. It's better to focus on knowing that YOU wrote something good, that YOU did not write the stereotype that those people are determined to see.
POINT #3: WHY is something a stereotype?
While there are lists of stereotypes against Black people in media and life that can be found, I would appreciate if people stopped approaching it as just a list of things you can check off to avoid. You can know what the stereotypes are, sure, but if you don't understand WHY they're a problem and how they play into perception of us, you'll either end up writing a flat character trying to avoid that list, or you're going to write other things related to that stereotype because "oh its not item #1"... and it'll still be racist.
For example: if you wrote a "sassy Black woman" that does a z formation neck rotation just because a store manager asked her something… that's probably stereotype. If you thought of a character that needed to be "loudmouthed", "sassy", and "strong" and a dark-skinned black woman was automatically what fit the profile in your mind, ding ding ding! THAT'S where you need to catch your racist biases.
But a dark-skinned Black woman character cursing out a store manager because she's had a really bad, stressful day and their attitude towards her pushed her over the edge may be in the wrong, but she's not an "angry Black woman". She's a Black woman that's angry! And if you wrote the day she had to be as bad as would drive anyone to overstimulation and anxiety, the blow up will make sense! The development and writing behind her led to this logical point (which connects to point #1!)
I'm not going to provide a truly exhaustive list of Black stereotypes in media because that would ACTUALLY be worth a college credited class and I do this for free lmao. But I am going to provide some classic examples that can get y'all started on your own research.
POINT #4: WATCH BLACK NARRATIVES!
As always, I'm gonna push supporting Black creators, because that's the best way to see the range of what you'd like. You want to see Black villains? We got those! Black heroes? Black antiheroes? Assholes, lovers, comedians, depressed, criminals, kings, and more? They exist! You can get inspired by watching those movies and reading those books, see how WE depict us!
I've seen mixed reviews on it, BUT- I personally really enjoyed Swarm, because it was one of the first times I'd ever seen that "unhinged obsessed murderous Black fan girl" concept. Tumblr usually loves that shit lmao. Even the "bites you bites you bites you [thing I love]" thing was there. And she liked girls, too. Just saying. I thought it was a fun idea that I'd love to see more of. Y'all gotta give us a chance to be in these roles, to tell these tales. We can do it too, and you'd enjoy it if you tried to understand it!
POINT#5: You are NOT Black!
This is obvious lmao, but if you're not Black, there's no need to pretend. There's no need to think "oh well I have to get a 100% perfect depiction of the Black person's mind". That's… That's gonna look cringe, at its best. You don't have to do that in order to avoid stereotypes. You're not going to be able to catch every nuance because it's not your lived experience, nor is it the societally enforced culture. Just… Do what you can, and if you feel like it's coming off hokey… Maybe consider if you want to continue this way lol. If you know of any Black beta readers or sensitivity reviewers, that'd be a good time to check in!
For example, if your Black character is talking about "what's good my homie" and there's absolutely no reason for him to be speaking that way other than to indicate that he's Black… 😬 I can't stop you but… Are you sure?
An egregious example of a TERRIBLE way to write a Black character is the "What If: Miles Morales/Thor" comic. I want to emphasize the lack of good Black character design involved in some of these PROFESSIONAL art spaces, because that MARVEL comic PASSED QA!! That comic went past NUMEROUS sets of eyes and was APPROVED!! IT GOT RELEASED!! NO ONE STOPPED IT!!
I'm sorry, it was just so racist-ly bad that it was hilarious. Like you couldn't make that shit up.
Anyway, unfortunately that's how some of y'all sound trying to write AAVE. I promise that we speak the Queen's English too lmao. If you're worried you won't get it right, just use the standard form of English. It's fine! Personally, I'd much rather you do that than try to 'decode AAVE' if you don't know how to use it.
My point is, if you're actively "forcing" yourself to "think Black"… maybe you need to stand down and reconsider your approach lmao. This is why understanding the stereotypes and social environment behind them will help you write better, because you can incorporate that Blackness- without having to verbally "emphasize how Black this is"- into their character, motivations, and actions.
Conclusion
We need to reconsider how we approach the concepts of stereotypes when writing our Black characters. The goal is not to cross off a checklist of things to avoid per se, but to understand WHY we have to develop our Black characters well enough to avoid incorporating them into our writing. Give your Black characters substance- we're human beings! We have motivations and fears and desires! We're not perfect, but we're not inherently flawed because of our race. That's what makes the difference!
And as always, and really in particular for this topic, it's the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!
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3 Times Quinn Almost Proposed + 1 Time He Actually Did
The best decision Quinn ever made was you. From the second he stumbled into that Cafe with his parents, to moving in with you, to admitting he loved you and everything else in between. It was a no-brainer that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. And there was no doubt in his mind that you felt the same way.
"I can't believe you're proposing," Jack said, tapping his fingers against the center console of Quinn's car. He never could sit still, and sometimes it grated on Quinn's nerves.
"Why? Do you think it's too early?" Quinn asks anxiously, running his tongue against his lips.
Luke pitches forward from the back seat to share his input, "You've been dating for like what? Five?" He asks, doing some quick math on his fingers.
Quinn nods, "Since March,"
"Ya know, we still haven't forgiven you for not telling us immediately," Jack huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.
"If it's any consolation, you are the first people I wanted to tell," Quinn says placatingly.
"Quinner, go easy on our uneducated brother, he doesn't know what the word consolation means," Luke says seriously.
Quinn snorts a laugh as Jack turns around to swat Luke on the head. "I have a bigger vocabulary than you dumbass!"
Before the two of them can escalate into a full-blown bickering match, Quinn interrupts, "Back to my problem, guys! Do you think it's too early to propose?" His fingers tap nervously on the steering wheel as he navigates to the jewellery store.
"There's no proper timeline when it comes to proposing Quinny, it comes down to when you are ready and you feel like it's the right time in your relationship," Jack says.
"I mean, you already knew you wanted to spend the rest of your life with Y/n, so this is just taking the next step towards that, isn't it?" Luke adds, adjusting his Devils Hockey cap over his curls.
"When did you two become so wise?" Quinn grumbles as he pulls into the parking lot.
"We've always been wise beyond our years," Luke says puffing his chest out. Jack flicks his cap off his head, rolling his eyes.
"Sure Lukey," Quinn snorts, running a hand through his hair.
"Alright boys, let's get this done." Jack claps, practically jumping out of the car.
It wasn't hard at all. Quinn chose a shop where he could completely customize the ring, and with access to your Pinterest board and all the rings that you already own, he knew almost exactly how he wanted it to look. The only thing he was nervous about was whether or not you would like it.
"Don't overthink it too much Quinn, you know her better than you know yourself," Jack squeezes his shoulder comfortingly.
"You could propose with a ring pop, and she would treasure it for the rest of her life," Luke adds, with a roll of his eyes.
The three of them are in and out of the shop within an hour, and Quinn is smiling his ass off all the way home.
1.
A week later, Quinn picks up the ring. It's even better than he imagined it would be in real life. As his car pulls into the driveway of the lakehouse, he sees you out front with his mom, helping her tend to her garden.
You kneel in the dirt, sunglasses perched on your nose, and a canucks cap on your head. Smiling and laughing with Ellen as you both pull weeds from the ground. Quinn's heart beats out of his chest with happiness, and he's struck with the urge to kneel in the dirt next to you and present the ring to you right then.
When you notice that he arrived, you grin widely, giving him a wave. There's dirt smudged across your nose and under your nails, and Quinn thinks the ring would be a lovely accessory to your mud-stained hands.
The outline of the ring box feels warm in his pocket as he approaches you and his mom, "Hi babe," he greets, dropping a kiss to the top of your head, and it takes everything in his bones not to get down on one knee and pull out the ring right now.
"Hi Mom," he says with a quiet smile, giving her a kiss on the cheek. Her eyes twinkle knowingly.
"Jack and Luke are napping upstairs, and the two of us are going to start lunch as soon as we're done this."
Quinn nods, "Lemme change and I'll come help you two," he runs up the stairs, tucks the ring box safely at the top of his closet and changes into shorts and a t-shirt to help you and his mom in the garden.
2.
Quinn never expected to be the guy who obsessively walked around with his engagement ring in his pocket after he bought it. But here he was, on the boat, with the ring sitting in the glove compartment. Which you had complete access to.
Jack had called him an idiot, stating that a number of things could've happened, from you finding the ring accidentally, or it falling into the water. Or maybe even a shark eating it. Luke was quick to call Jack an idiot, saying that there were no sharks in Lake Erie. Jack rolled his eyes and flicked Luke in the forehead saying it was to emphasize how stupid Quinn was being by bringing the ring with him onto the boat.
Quinn is currently in the driver's seat, you're on the wakeboard, and the rest of the boys are littered around the boat, whooping and cheering as you throw the rope and tip backwards into the water with a salute.
Trevor whistles low with admiration, "Wow, Mrs. Huggy is a professional,"
"She's not Mrs. Huggy yet, but she will be soon," Quinn mutters under his breath just as you climb the ladder back onto the boat.
It takes a minute for the words to register, but as soon as they do Trevor's jaw is on the floor. He stares back and forth between you and Quinn.
Jack, Quinn, and Luke wear various degrees of alarm on their faces, hoping and praying that you didn't hear anything.
"Damn, guys, was I that bad?" You laugh nervously, and you take in the looks on their faces. You unzip your life jacket and squeeze as much water out of your hair as you can.
"He-" Trevor starts pointing at Quinn, but before any words can actually leave his mouth, Jack is tipping Trevor over the edge of the boat and into the water.
You burst into laughter, and the boys seemingly return to normal as a soaking-wet Trevor climbs back into the boat, muttering obscenities under his breath. "Alright, who's next?"
"Me," Quinn says, desperate to get away from Trevor's pointed smirk, "You're driving," he says, pushing you gently into the driver seat where he was previously seated.
"Are you sure you want me to drive?" You ask skeptically, brow raised.
"O'course babe, there's no one I'd trust more." Quinn punctuated his sentence with a kiss on your cheek. Jack makes an offended noise, that sounds like a dying bird of some kind and you laugh at him.
Quinn rolls his eyes at him as he zips his life jacket and gets into the water for his turn on the wakeboard. He gives you a thumbs up, and parrots the movement, before slowly accelerating. You stand at the wheel of the boat, half twisted towards the back, so you can keep an eye on Quinn.
Quinn stands easily, and you smile accelerating a bit more. You turn in patterns that aren't too sharp but still make nice big waves for Quinn to ride. He's grinning like a madman. You maneuver the boat in a manner that gives him a wave to jump off of if he wants to.
He takes the opportunity, sailing through the air and managing a half spin before he hits the water. You drive around him in a slow circle as he resurfaces.
"That was fucking amazing! Where did you learn to drive a boat like that?" Trevor asks admiringly.
You shrug, cheeks heating under the praise, "My dad taught me," you say, crawling to the back of the boat and offering Quinn a hand as he climbs the ladder, "Been driving watercraft since I was like, twelve or something," you grin, squeaking as Quinn shakes his wet hair out in your direction, "You should see what I can do on a jet ski."
Jack whistles heartily, "We might have to take you up on that one of these days,"
"Sure, Jack, if you think you can handle getting your ass beat by a girl," you smirk. Jack scoffs offendedly, and Luke cackles from where he lies at the front of the boat.
Quinn is smiling so hard, his eyes crinkling at the corners, "I think we have to upgrade you to Captain for the summer, that was the best boat driving out of all of us," Quinn praises, pressing his lips to your hair.
"Seriously!" Jack says excitedly, scrambling for a life jacket, "That looked so fucking fun, no one can ever make waves like that! I'm next." He says jumping in the water before anyone can protest.
"Don't let this one get away Quinner," Luke says, tipping his hat in your direction, "Or I'll take her from you," he throws an over-exaggerated wink in your direction, you giggle and Quinn rolls his eyes. As if the shithead wasn't with him when he bought the ring.
Quinn eyes the glove compartment, where the ring is stored, and thoroughly debates how proposing right now would play out. A sharp whistle from Jack pulls him from his thoughts, and he takes his spot at the back of the boat as Jack spotter.
You resume your place in the driver's seat, and for the rest of the evening, that's where you stay.
Quinn almost has a heart attack when he sees you reach for the glove compartment, but Luke manages to fake trip into you just in time so that Jack can sneakily snag the box and relocate it to one of the other boat compartments.
3.
The house is completely full, with a bunch of the boy's friends who are visiting. Everyone is camped out around the fire pit, nursing beers and laughing loudly. You are curled up in Quinn's lap, head pillowed on his chest while you listen to all of the boys talk about their fondest memories.
You play with the strings of Quinn's hoodie, while he absent-mindedly traces patterns on your arm. His chest rumbles with laughter and his arm tightens around you, as Jack tells a story from when they played together for Team USA. An overwhelming wave of gratitude washes over you. You're grateful for everything in life, and most of all Quinn.
"You're quiet tonight," His lips are pressed against the side of your head, and the comforting baritone of his voice soothes your soul, "doing ok?"
You nod, bringing your fingers up to trace his jaw, "just thinking,"
"Penny for your thoughts?" He speaks low, his words only for your ears, the crackling of the fire, and hearty laughter fade into the background and at this moment it's as if you and Quinn are the only two people who exist.
He was a way of doing that. Making everything else disappear and making you feel like you're the only girl in the world. "I'm so grateful for everything," you answer quietly, "especially for you. Getting to experience life with you, being able to support you, having you there to support me- and just everything that you do and have done for me. You know?"
Quinn's heart swells so wide he thinks it might burst out of his chest. Before he really knows what he's doing, he's slipping out of the chair and kneeling in front of you. You huff because you were enjoying being curled into him.
His hands are on your thighs, and your hands cup his cheeks, thumbs tracing over his cheekbones. Neither of you has noticed that the laughter has died out, and everyone is watching the two of you. Their faces are a mixture of disgust and confusion.
Jack and Luke look downright horrified, sharing a look and exchanging silent words with their eyes.
"Will you m-" Before Quinn can complete his question, Luke is scrambling out of the lawn chair that he and Duker are curled up in and tackling Quinn to the floor.
"BEE!" Jack screeches, adding to the dramatics as he stands on his chair and points in the direction of where Quinn and Luke lay in the grass, "THERE'S A FUCKING BEE!"
There was no bee.
At Jack's distressed yelling, half of the boys are out of their chairs, running around and swatting at the heads of the non-existent bee.
You hold your stomach, laughing at the general chaos. It shouldn't be as funny as it is, but the sight of almost twenty grown men screaming about a bee is pretty hilarious.
"You are welcome you fucking numbskull," Luke hisses in Quinn's ear, as he helps him back up. Quinn gives him a sheepish smile of thanks. Were it not for his brother's antics, he would've regretted that being how he proposed for the rest of his life.
Once the general chaos dies down and everyone is back in their chairs calmly, you speak up with a smirk on your face, "You guys do know Bees are not nocturnal right?"
Quinn looks pointedly at Jack like he's an idiot. As if Quinn has the right to call him an idiot when he almost proposed to the love of his life in front of twenty hockey boys around a campfire on a Tuesday night.
"How do you know that?" Jack asks, crossing his arms over his chest with a pout.
"Yeah," Trevor scoffs, "Seems untrue,"
You snort, taking a sip of your beer, "I'm an elementary school teacher, dumbass, the science unit about bugs is practically ingrained in my brain. Bees are definitely not nocturnal."
"Nope, there definitely was a bee," Luke chimes, "I literally saved Quinn's life."
"Yeah, I saw it too," Dylan adds with a nod.
"It was basically the size of Quinn's head," Cole adds, "really Y/n/n I don't know how you didn't see it," Cole says matter-of-factly.
"I can't believe you guys are trying to gaslight me about bees right now," you snort, nuzzling further into Quinn's warmth.
"I heard it buzzing in my ear, babe," Quinn says seriously.
You roll your eyes at him and tuck your head under his chin and he wraps his arms around you securely, pressing a kiss to your hair, while you argue with the guys about Bees for the next half-an-hour.
+ 1
Quinn slips out of the bedroom to let you finish changing, he pads down the stairs to where his family waits in the kitchen. Jack presents him the ring box, that he had decided to keep with him after the boat incident. Quinn tucks it into his pocket with a deep breath.
"You ready Quinner?" Luke asks, squeezing his shoulder comfortingly.
"Yeah," Quinn nods, breathing deeply.
"She's gonna say yes," Jack reassures, giving Quinn a pat on the back.
"I hope so," Quinn says nervously.
His dad chuckles, "Don't worry kid, you're doing great compared to how nervous I was when I was proposing to your mother,"
Ellen laughs fondly, "It's true, he was so nervous he forgot to pull out the ring, and then when he finally did, he dropped it."
Jim rolls his eyes, but the smile stays. Quinn laughs at that, then all his anxieties are bubbling to the surface and spilling past his lips before he can stop them.
"What if she doesn't like the ring? What if she says no, and she thinks it is too soon? What if I fall on my face? What if I lose the ring? What if-"
Jack squishes his cheeks together to keep him from talking. He tips his forehead against Quinn's staring deep into his eyes. "Breathe with me, Quinn,"
Jack takes exaggerated breaths, and Quinn follows his lead. Jim and Ellen quietly slip out of the room, leaving the brothers to themselves.
Once Quinn's breathing returns to normal, Jack lets him go. "She loves you with her whole heart, Quinn. You have nothing to worry about," Luke says, bonking his head against Quinn’s affectionately.
"Thanks, guys," he murmurs, running a hand through his hair with a sigh.
Everything goes smoothly in Quinn's opinion. Even when he practically forgot his whole speech. But if he had to do it again, he wouldn't change a thing.
-
Yeah so this ended up being like 2.9k words....
Anyways enjoy friends!
So it's basically a fic but lazy.
Part of This Universe
#quinn hughes#qh43#hughes brothers#nhl imagine#nhl x reader#quinn hughes oneshot#quinn hughes imagine#quinn hughes x y/n#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes blurb#quinn hughes x you#nhl blurb#nhl imagines#nhl players#hockey imagine#hockey blurb#loving you is as easy as abc 123
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Thinking more fallout au thoughts.
Cw: branding, dub-con, mean Ghost
"Would you quit squirmin'." Ghost tells you, yanking your pants down over the curve of your ass. He's got you pinned over his lap, your arms held tight against your sides with no hope of escape. You squirm a little harder, give a valiant effort towards escape, and he swears. "Wouldn't have ta do this if ya quit wandering off."
Branding you, he means.
His words don't inspire confidence, and certainly don't stop you from trying to wiggle you way off his lap. Who cares if you've got your pants around your knees, anything is better than what Ghost has planned.
"This is crazy!" You tell him, "You're crazy!"
"And you're a thief," he responds easily, "won't hurt too bad, animals used ta get branded all the time and they never complained." You thrash. You don't appreciate name calling in a situation like this, but he could at least use words you know.
"Stay still." Ghost spanks you hard and you whimper, dropping your head at the sting. In your brief moment of stillness Ghost reaches over you and pulls a length of metal from the campfire. He holds you tight, keeps you from moving too much when you start to squirm again. He mutters something about you messing up his work, and you freeze when you feel the blistering heat near your skin, then pain.
You scream.
Ghost holds the brand to you for a few seconds before pulling it away. By then you can feel the burn in earnest. It feels hot, obviously, but far past what you thought heat could feel like. It's blistering, stinging, like a scratch that keeps digging deeper. Ghost uncaps his flask and spends it over your ass while you sob. It flashes new heat over your skin but it's cool. It helps a little, at least as long as it takes for his flask to run out of water. You sniffle, try to tough it out until it's just the dry Mojave air on your new burn, then the tears start again.
"I can't believe you," you sniff, trying to sound less pathetic than you feel. Ghost leans sideways, settles the metal on the sand beside him. You don't bother attempting to escape even when his grip loosens, you just slump to wallow in your misery.
"It's barely second degree," Ghost's fingers prod at the warm edges of the burn. You flinch, and he pulls back. The dips and grooves of his hand as it rubs over your unblemished asscheek tells you he's taken his glove off. It's the only warming you have that he's going to slip it between your legs.
You don't have the strength to struggle against his hold again. Ghost drags his fingers along your slit, the calloused and scarred skin rubbing gently against your clit. A different sort of heat. One your body seems all too eager for. You press your hips back into the feeling, eager for some reprieve from the pain still radiating off your skin. It earns you a chuckle from Ghost, a burst of embarrassed warmth over your cheeks, and a more firm, focused attention between your legs.
"There ya go," Ghost coos, "wasn't this the deal? I don't kill you, and you do-" he clicks his tongue, adjusts his grip and smears your slick over the back of your thighs, you hadn't realized how wet you were, "-'ow'd you phrase it again?"
"Whatever gets you off," you whimper, filling in the words you remember all too well. Usually a more rewarding experience and with less burns.
Ghost wiggles a finger into your cunt, pumps the thick digit in and out, curls it to stroke your walls, and makes you squirm desperately. "You want me to kiss it better sweet'art?" Ghost asks, almost mocking in his tone.
You nod anyway, and end up grinding your desperate cunt against his mouth the same as you always do.
#cod x reader#x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost mw2#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost cod#mw2 ghost#fallout au
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QUESTION TIME?
pairings: (platonic) lewis hamilton x f1 driver!reader.
warnings: sexist comments. interviewers asking rude questions.
summary: being the only female driver on the grid means being the unofficial spokesperson for women in motorsports and you’re tired of it.
author’s note: a part of my newest series! i’m still actively looking for more scenarios and ideas regarding this universe! so if u have any thoughts or questions? let me know! i’d love to hear them <3
“do you worry that being more open and accessible to different drivers will lower the level of competition within formula one?”
the silence could be cut with a knife. everyone in the room looked at you expectantly, eyes wide as they waited for your answer. you took a sip of water as you collected your thoughts.
sometimes, when you were younger and karting, you’d wish that you had been born a boy. that might have been an unpopular opinion but you held it occasionally, although not for the reasons one might think. being a man would have meant that you would have been treated as just another driver rather than a novelty. no one else on the panel was expected to act like a mouthpiece for their entire gender.
taking a deep breath, you composed yourself before addressing the question. "i understand the concern about maintaining the high level of competition within formula one. however, i believe that diversity and inclusivity in motorsports can actually enhance the competition rather than detract from it."
you glanced around the room, meeting the expectant gazes of the reporters and fellow drivers. "by opening up opportunities to drivers from different backgrounds and experiences, we bring new perspectives and skills to the sport. this diversity can drive innovation and push the entire field to new heights."
pausing for a moment to gather your thoughts, you continued, "i don't necessarily think talent and competitiveness are determined by gender or any other factor. it's about skill, dedication, and passion for racing. embracing diversity not only reflects the world we live in but also strengthens formula one as a whole."
as you finished speaking, you could sense a shift in the atmosphere of the room. while your response might not have been what everyone expected, you knew it came from a place of honesty and conviction. and deep down, you hoped that your words would spark a broader conversation about the importance of inclusion in motorsports.
the room digests your response, slowly and steadily until another interviewer speaks up. "i get where you're coming from, but let's be real here. formula one is about pushing the limits, about being the best of the best. we can't afford to water down the competition just for the sake of diversity."
you respected his perspective, knowing that he always spoke his mind but god, if that wasn’t the worst way to word that. "i hear you," you replied, "but i don't see diversity as watering down the competition. if anything, it's about elevating it. different perspectives bring new challenges and force us to raise our own game. isn't that what racing is all about?"
he paused, considering your words. "i suppose you have a point," he conceded, nodding thoughtfully. "but we still need to ensure that the drivers who make it to formula one are truly the best, regardless of where they come from."
you nodded in agreement, acknowledging the importance of maintaining high standards in the sport. "absolutely," you agreed. "and i believe that by embracing diversity, we can do just that. it's not about lowering the bar; it's about expanding it to include drivers who might have otherwise been overlooked."
after a moment, lewis, who had been your unofficial mentor throughout the process of integrating into formula one, raises his hand. he had been listening to the whole exchange with a furrowed brow.
“i just want to echo what y/n has said,” he began. “diversity isn’t a threat, if anything it’s our greatest asset.”
he turned to address the room, his gaze steady. "we've seen time and time again how diversity helps drive innovation and pushes the sport forward. and it's not just about gender or race – it's about welcoming drivers from all walks of life and giving them the opportunity to shine."
lewis paused, letting his words sink in. "formula one should be a reflection of the world we live in – diverse, inclusive, and full of opportunity. and by embracing that diversity, we make the sport stronger, more competitive, and more exciting for fans around the globe."
you smile at that and grin at the interviewer.
“is that a good enough answer for you?” he nods and your remark sparks laughter in the room. after a moment, the interviewers target your peers and you take a deep breath. free at last.
when the interview concludes, you find yourself walking step by step with lewis, who smiles at you.
“you answered those questions well. i’m proud.”
“just followed the hamilton playbook.” you tease. “who knows? maybe i’ll be fighting you for that championship next.”
“i’d welcome the challenge.” lewis laughs, his eyes bright with amusement. “but seriously y/n, never underestimate the power of your voice and your presence in this sport. i always say that the goal is to leave the sport better than we found it, and you’re only in your second season and doing that. i have no doubt you’ll achieve great things.”
his voice is thick with sincerity and he places a warm hand on your shoulder before leaving. as he disappears, a young girl wearing your merch comes bounding up to you. she’s grinning wide with a missing tooth and when she speaks, her accent is thickly american with a strong lisp.
“y/n! hi!” she waves a massive poster in front of you. it has your name, your number and a message of support. “y/n you’re the coolest! will you sign my poster please?”
with a warm smile, you kneel down and grin at her.
“of course! i’d be honoured.” your assistant hands you a sharpie and you scrawl your signature in the corner of her poster. her parents taking a photo of the two of you and then with her parents permission, you sign her hat and her shirt. “thank you so much for all of your support. it means everything and more to me. keep cheering me on okay? i do this for all of you.”
“i will!” she beams. you laugh and pass your assistant her pen. “you’re my hero y/n! thank you!”
she bounces off and her parents wave while saying their thanks. your heart swelled up after that interaction, reminding you as to why you do this. why you deal with all those incessant annoying questions because it gives you the opportunity to help inspire the next generation of young racers.
as you stand there, you see a guy with a camera walking your way. your eyes widen as you make a sneaky escape. today has been filled with enough questions, you think as you hide out in gavin’s office.
#jayde’s works ☆#maneater ꕤ#formula one x reader#f1 x reader#f1 smau#f1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#f1 texts#f1 fanfic#formula one imagine#lewis hamilton x reader#lh44 x reader
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i told my mum about dr ratio and she called him a cad. so i wrote a drabble about it.
“I told my mother about you,” you say, quietly watching Ratio work away at the papers he was marking. You watch as he circles a big, fat ‘0’ in red in the top right hand corner of the paper, before putting it aside. He looked up at you. “And what did she say?”
You pause, dropping your gaze to the table top, unsure of how to go about this. "...She called you a cad."
Silence. No scribbling pen, not even a sound of an inhale or exhale from the man sitting in front of you. The table top is the most interesting thing you've ever laid eyes on right now. Ratio is so still, you'd think he'd have turned into one of those sculptures he made and taunted enemies with.
"...We...I haven't even...met her." For the first time in all the years you've known the man, he's utterly unable to formulate a single coherent sentence. Looking up, you see him staring at you wide-eyed, slack-jawed, and he looks devastated. "What did you say?"
"I—! Nothing! Nothing incriminating! I just told her that your life's purpose is eradicating idiocy and that you..."
Okay, I did kind of tell her that you're massively self-assured and that you walk around with an alabaster mask on all the time. But you don't want to break his heart too much. And that I hated you so much I love you.
His eyes narrow into slits. "Let me guess. You told her I throw chalk at people."
The ceiling fan's patterned movement is suddenly very fascinating.
"Aeons, woman, are you trying to get your mother to break us up?" Ratio drops his pen and stands, his hands on his hips. "I can't believe it! You probably made me sound like some lunatic that impales his students with sticks of chalk when they get a question wrong!"
"You..." kind of do. But pointing that out probably wouldn't be wise. Fumbling for something to say, you come out with, "I just told her that you need to be humbled! And that I'm...in the process of humbling you! Nothing too bad."
He rubs a hand over his face in exasperation. "Darling, please don't tell me you told her I drop a pillar on my opponent when I'm in a battle."
"I..." Yes, I did. You probably should've kept your mouth shut. And then your mother exclaimed, 'so he murders people!' and you had to scramble to explain that he kills aliens and such, not people. She didn't have a bar of it.
"Wonderful! Now she thinks I go around crushing people with columns for fun!" You had a feeling Ratio's reaction wouldn't be good. But not this bad.
"It's okay, maybe you two can meet and you'll put on your best behaviour and won't call her an idiot." You get to your feet and pat his arm comfortingly. "Treat her with respect, and she'll like you."
He actually looks like he's about to cry. "It's hopeless. Your mother probably hates me now. She called me a cad! A cad! All because you told her I hate idiocy."
"You're not going to...leave me for this, right?" Your voice is small, and you're suddenly very afraid that you really took it too far. "I'm sorry..."
"No! I'm leaving you over this. I just...need to think of a way to convince her that I don't run around stabbing people with chalk." The papers he was marking are now forgotten and he begins pacing. "What does she like? Cookies? Macarons? Apple pie?"
"My mother likes wine and cheesecake," you respond, watching him walk back and forth, back and forth, back and forth in quite the tizz. "White wine. Likes champagne, too. Um...and she loves chocolate. She'll force you to marry me if you give her chocolate."
"Perfect! Well, then, ask your mother if she is alright with meeting me, and I'll come along with gifts of champagne, cheesecake and chocolate. How about it?"
Good thing my father wasn't in the room when I smack-talked Ratio to her. It would've been much, much worse. "Uh, yeah, alright. Just beware, though, you're going to have to woo my father, as well."
Ratio gave a long-suffering sigh. "What does he like?"
And suddenly the Doctor of Idiots was running around collecting all these gifts for your parents. Perhaps it did work out for the better, since now you're sure he's desperate to stay with you.
#hsr dr ratio#dr ratio#dr ratio x reader#hsr drabbles#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail#hsr#star rail#honkai star rail dr ratio#dr ratio hsr#is this a self-insert? nah not really#but yes everything i wrote about my mother is real#i love her so much#she's so iconic omg#and wow 2 fics in one day im on a ROLL#and yes that dr ratio longfic is coming along. just wait a bit longer the chapter planning is almost done <3
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Hi!!!! Love you btw
Could you maybe write a beefy!james where reader is also friends with the marauders and they’re all hanging out, and James and reader only recently became an official couple, and James is super affectionate with pda and pet names and reader is super flustered and shy which is totally unlike her normally (she’s very sarcastic and talkative normally but James has her a blubbering mess)
Being with James makes you feel that floaty, out of body feeling where you're not sure what to do with yourself. He's always smiling, and kissing some part of your face, or holding your hand or just holding you close, it makes your chest heat.
You're meeting his friends for drinks as he celebrates his team making it into the major leagues and you're dressed casually for the pub you're currently in-a pair of dark jean shorts and James' jersey.
James hasn't stopped touching your thighs or running his palm down your back since he's come in. He smells like turf and a bit of his usual cinnamon spiced cologne.
"I can't believe you're already wearing his shirt." Sirius says as he throws himself into the booth opposite you and James. His comment is followed up with Remus slotting himself into the booth beside him and rolling his eyes.
"She's had a jersey for years, Sirius."
You nod and go to chime in when James drops his hand to your thigh again and your breath hitches. His slighted rough palm squeezes, his thumb stroking the soft dough of your thighs with a distracted smile.
You feel your pulse pound in your throat at how casual he does it. Sparing a glance at him, you find James looking directly at his friends, not a lick of disguised teasing playing at his lips at all. That worsens the pounding in your chest.
"I think she looks lovely in it," He praises and you fluster even more, finding it more than a little difficult to make your mouth form words. Gods, you can hear the blood rushing in your ears.
Sirius rolls his eyes, "Course you do, you perv." Sirius looks to you at his joke, ready for your agreement like he's accustomed to, but you're busy sucking down the last of your vodka soda.
Remus hides a smirk as he catches on. "How does it feel to be part of the big leagues now, Jamie?" he saves you from any awkward silence with his question which you're grateful for. rr
James doesn't seem to notice the effect he's having on you, not when his hand dips between your thighs and remains there as he responds to Remus easily. "It's good, exciting. I know it's going to be a lot more hours training and a bit of a graft, but it should be exciting more than anything else."
A waiter appears with the wings and chips you and James had ordered while waiting for his friends, "Plus I've got a pretty cute cheerleader to make happy at every game so it's good motivation." James kisses the corner of your mouth as you take a chip, your entire body shivering at the contact.
"Y'okay, lovie?" he whispers, and you swear you almost pass away just then. His cologne is all you can smell, and his hand is still between your thighs and he's pressed up against you and you're really going to die because of how effortlessly attractive your boyfriend is- you just know it.
"I'm okay, Jamie. Have something to eat, baby." you say and Sirius almost chokes on how soft and lovelorn you sound.
"God they're sick." he murmurs to Remus who is very inclined to agree, especially when James just eats the chip right out of your hands.
#jamespotter#james potter#james potter one shot#james potter imagine#james potter fanfiction#james potter fanfic#james potter headcanon#james potter blurb#james potter drabble#james potter fluff#james potter fic#james potter x black reader#james potter x reader#james potter x you#james potter x y/n#james potter x yn#beefy!james#beefy!james potter#rugby!james potter#rugby!james
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Is there hope in us, still? (is there something worth believing in?)
let me wrap my teeth around the world - series masterlist here
pairing: poly marauders x reader (gender neutral)
length: 1.4k
genre: fluff, kinda angsty
warnings: slytherin reader, the good good post summer break mental illness, everybody's having some issues here, there will be a pt.2 next week to give it a happy happy ending but this isn't so bad, it has a hopeful ending on its own
a/n: wowie another one lol hope y'all enjoy <3
Sirius is hollow when he gets back from summer break - quiet and petulant in a way that doesn't suit him anymore, snapping at his peers and pulling away from people's touch. You can't blame him. Especially not when you're feeling the same. You're not quite as showy about it as he is, that constant, underlying desperation to keep it all hidden burning under your skin. Sirius's suffering is loud - loud enough that you always hope it will drown out yours. It never really does, as far as the other two are concerned.
He shoves towards the door when class ends, likely stalking back to his dorm to hole up for the rest of the evening. James sighs, a hand on Remus' shoulder comfortingly as the boy stares at the doorway where Sirius just was, his brow furrowed in that worried way that he's mastered.
"We're going to do some studying together in the common room later… see if maybe Pads feels like joining. You're always welcome to come along with us…?" James asks in that gentle way of his, patiently hopeful. You busy yourself with gathering up your books, knowing that if you look at him, you'll crumble. There is love in the way he looks at you, despite everything. You're sure that, if you take notice of it, it would be enough to condemn you these days.
"I'm going to do some work alone tonight," you say shortly, brushing past the two of them. Remus catches your arm as you try to leave, fingers wrapping around your wrist ever so gently. But when you pause, he lets go of you abruptly, like there's something wrong with his touch against yours. This is the beginning, you think. This is where I start to lose you.
"If you change your mind…" he begins softly. You nod stiffly.
"I'll let you know." James and Remus watch as you leave swiftly, Remus rubbing the palm of his hand against his thigh, as if trying to take back the contact he'd already made with your wrist. This is where it starts, he thinks. This is where you begin to realize that I'm better when I'm left behind.
Remus has to stop himself from startling later that night when he's woken up by a cold hand shaking his shoulder. You hadn't come to study with them that evening, which wasn't surprising, but it hurt something in Remus. James, especially, had deflated, his eyes dull and his hands fidgety while he tried desperately to finish his essay, his thoughts wandering to Sirius and the dark circles under his eyes, the paleness of his skin - and then to you, to the stubborn set of your jaw and the hard look in your eyes. Looking down at his own hands, he wonders what worth they have if he can't even save the people he loves.
Needless to say, the last thing Remus was expecting was to have you in his dorm in the middle of the night, one of Sirius's sweaters shoved hastily over your pajamas as you shook him awake. You place a finger over his lips when he wakes abruptly, climbing up next to him without so much as a word as he fumbles to find his wand on his nightstand, casting a silencing spell over the four-poster bed.
"What's going on, dove?" he asks, his hands itching to hold your face, to smooth his thumbs over the skin of your cheeks and soothe you in some way. But he resists - you're here, in his bed, looking at him like you need him, and the last thing he wants is to overwhelm you and have you scared away. The last thing he can bear to do is put his hands on you, his scars glinting against unblemished skin - something ruined touching something holy.
"I just… couldn't sleep. I'm not - I haven't been sleeping well these days," you respond, and Remus is sure that if he could see you clearly, if he weren't squinting at you through the dark, you'd be shying away, face tilted away from his eyes, away from any kind of vulnerability.
"Well," he says carefully, reaching out to put a hand on your knee. You don't pull away, to his relief. In fact, you relax a bit into it, letting your posture slouch. "Stay here then, yea?" Much to Remus's delight, that's all it really takes for you to move forward, pulling the blankets back to settle underneath them. He joins you, of course, settling in next to you and letting you decide how much - or how little space to leave between your bodies.
When you reach your hand over, cupping his cheek in your palm and smoothing your thumb over the skin there, he feels a part of him melt in the relief of it, a part of him that didn't realize quite how much he'd missed your touch - your love. He cups his hand over yours, tilting his head to press a series of kisses across your palm. When you continue to let him, sagging further into the pillows, he keeps going, trailing kisses up and down each finger and finishing with your thumb.
It's then that you pull him closer, tilting your own face up to place your own gentle kiss to his lips before thumping your head against his chest. He lets you, of course, keeping his hand tangled up with yours while the other wraps around you. Before you can sleep, though, he leans close to whisper near your ear.
"James has been wondering where the invisibility cloak disappeared to. I'm sure he'll be pleased to know you're the one who ran off with it." You can't help but smile at his words, your face still pressed against his chest.
"You have so little faith in me, Rem. Not everyone needs the cloak to sneak around in this castle."
"But you did steal it, didn't you?'
"…I'll give it back to him later." Remus huffs out a quiet laugh at your confession, pulling you closer and pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.
"You know he doesn't mind," he soothes. You squeeze his hand in thanks where your fingers are still interlocked.
"Goodnight, Rem… and thank you for this."
"No need to thank me, love. I don't mind at all."
Something clatters to the floor on the other side of the locked bathroom floor and Remus frowns, staring at it like he can burn a hole big enough to see Sirius on the other side - to make sure he's ok. James drapes himself over Remus's back where they're sitting on James's bed together, his arms wrapping tightly around his waist. Remus lets him, leaning back against him and feeling James sigh at the weight of it, a bit of tension draining from him.
"Were they really here last night? They really came and spoke with you?" James says, his face buried in Remus's neck, a desperate sort of lilt to his voice. Tell me there is hope, he thinks. Tell me I can fix this, still.
"You saw the note they left, love," Remus lets his eyes settle on his nightstand where you'd left the invisibility cloak, a note folded on top with a simple thank you written in it, a heart scrawled next to it that he recognized as yours. The whole thing almost made up for the fact that, by the time Remus had woken up, you'd already been gone.
"Do you think… things will be better now? At least a bit? Were things better last night?" James asks, his arms tightening around Remus's waist. Remus, in an act of reassurance, wraps his fingers around one of James's hands and squeezes gently as Sirius stalks out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind him and stomping away.
"I do think things are getting better. It's… slower than you and I would like, I know. But all we can is love them - and that, my dear Prongs, I know you can do." James grumbles something unintelligible at the compliment, his face still hidden from view. Remus is sure that, if he could see it, he'd be greeted by the flushed red of James's cheeks. He settles for bringing one of his hands up to press kisses across it, instead, content to bring a bit of hope back to the person he loves - to do something good with this body of his.
There is hope, he thinks, in this love they all share. There is something here to fight for, still.
#smsn.writes#marauders x reader#marauders x you#marauders x y/n#poly!marauders fluff#poly!marauders#poly!marauders x you#poly!marauders imagine#poly!marauders x reader#sirius black x reader#sirius black x y/n#sirius black x you#james potter x you#james potter x reader#james potter x y/n#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x y/n#sirius black imagine#james potter imagine#remus lupin imagine#sirius black fluff#james potter fluff#remus lupin fluff#marauders imagine#marauders drabble#poly marauders#poly marauders x reader#poly marauders x you
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down bad | j. potter
summary: you're so in love with james potter but he's a little too good at giving you mixed signals that it might actually ruin you
pairing: james potter x reader
warnings: angst, a little fluff if u squint, and so much longing & yearning. omg so much of it
a/n: i am unfortunately completely obsessed with taylor swift's new album, so everything i'll write in the near future will be based on one of the ttpd songs (yey!) & this one's based on 'down bad.' feel free to send requests if u want pick the next song for me x
──────── 𑁍︎ ‧₊°
"So he just said no?" Mary all but hisses. Marlene shushes her, glancing around the classroom before leaning down from where she's sitting on your desk.
"Are you sure it didn't mean something else?" She rests her hand on yours. "Maybe it was just a misunderstanding. He wouldn't…he just wouldn't, right?" You smile weakly at her, then shake your head. She squeezes your hand.
"The note was pretty clear," you say with a soft sigh. The sentence rolls off your tongue with unhidden bitterness. "Sorry, can't. Need to catch up on some assignments."
You would show it to them, so they could see for themselves and maybe divert their sympathetic gazes from you. But you had set it on fire right after reading it, just like the other two notes friendly rejecting you. You still aren't sure why you did it. After all, you did just tell Mary and Marlene that you're fine. At least you will be. You should not be this devastated over some guy.
Even if that guy is James Potter.
James who is now strolling into the room with his mates, looking as invincible and full of life as he always has and always will.
Quickly, you force a smile at the girls and pull out the chair next to you. Marlene, bless her, gets the hint and lightly shoves Mary's shoulder to have her take the seat. You're going through your book bag, pulling out your inkwell when four bodies make their way past your desk.
"Ladies," comes Sirius cheerfully loud voice as he bows at the waist because, of course, he does. Peter and Remus aren't as dramatic with their greetings. The latter, however, does take the time to slow down in front of you until you look up and return his kind smile. Belatedly, you realise perhaps you shouldn't have done that. You lock eyes with James, who's right behind him.
He sends you an easy smile and a wink. Like he's letting you in on another one of his rare secrets. You're not sure if you're smiling back, but it's almost a given that you are.
He takes his seat behind you, laughing blithely at a joke Pete just told, and it's all so painfully charming that you want to die. You fear he will always make you feel like this. Like you're somehow the chosen one. It's such a sickening feeling, you can't help but whip around and look at Mary, pleadingly. Though, you're not sure what you're pleading for anymore.
She shoots you another unbearably sympathetic smile, looking like she's close to cooing at you. You sigh, hiding your face in the crook of your arms.
You can't help but think how easy it would be to just cry right here. It's embarrassing to admit, but you've done it plenty of times over the weekend after you had seen James out at Hogsmeade with the others. Miserably, you had realised that he was, in fact, not too busy working on his assignments. He just didn't want to spend time with you.
You almost let out a sob.
A hand rubs your back and you know it can only be Mary, but you let yourself believe that it's the universe consoling you, as if to say there, there because there's nothing fair about this and she knows it, but there's nothing she can do it about now, can she?
History of Magic passes in a blur. Before you know it, you're in the library, pouring all of yourself into an essay that you normally couldn't have cared less for. But you're willing to do whatever it takes to keep yourself busy. You know your thoughts will stray the moment you're lying quietly in bed anyway, awaiting another sleepless night.
You finish the sentence and look up, satisfied with your work. Apparently it's been a while since you've torn your gaze away from the parchment before you, seeing how stiff your neck is. You knead at the uncomfortable knot in your shoulder while looking around the library. It's relatively full today with every other seat being taken.
Which makes it all the more irritating when your gaze snatches on a figure sat at the other table right across from you. He's not even looking up, head bent over a book, but you would recognise that mop of unruly dark curls anywhere. James must've seen you when he came in, but that might have just been your hopeful self speaking.
Begrudgingly, you resume your writing and it takes everything in you not to look up every few minutes. To glimpse the slight furrow in his brows and the small pout of his lips as he's carefully reading every paragraph. You know he's likely looking for something to prepare for a prank. Normally, you would simply go over and ask him what he's up to. You know he'd happily tell you. But you're glad to have at least a little bit of pride and dignity left that keeps you rooted in your spot.
Seemingly not enough though since all you can think about is that there's no way he doesn't know that you're right there. It really does make you want to bang your head against the table. Maybe that would finally catch James' attention.
Pathetically, you glance at him only to notice that he's packing his things to leave. The tip of your feather goes back to the parchment so fast, it almost pierces it. You haven't got a clue what you're writing, too busy tracking James' movements from the corner of your eyes.
You watch him stand up, walking down the length of his table towards the door down the hall on his right. Then he stops. You hold your breath. James seemingly hesitates before fixing the strap of his bag on his shoulder. He turns left and walks towards you. You're staring at your hand as it writes illegible words, completely out of your control, when you feel a tap on your shoulder.
"Hey," James whispers when you look up, giving you a familiar grin and small wave. It's an innocent gesture, sweet, but there's almost something hostile about this encounter. Like you have no choice but to let him occupy every single one of your senses. You stare up at him, a matching smile sweeping over your lips before you can think better of it.
That's when you notice the scarf he's wearing and its frizzled ends. It's yours. You know it is.
Did he not give it back to you after one of your nights out together on the stands? After you had flown on your brooms, so close to the sea of stars that you could've dipped your fingertips in them? You could almost hear the echoes of your windblown laughters as the memory pushes itself into the foreground of your mind.
James is sitting still, rosy-cheeked, watching you with curious eyes while you babble on about the Leo constellation. He had just told you that you could do whatever you want to him—another quite maddening thing to casually say to someone—and now he's apparently keen on staying true to his word by letting you wrap your scarf around his neck.
It took some convincing before he'd finally accepted it from you. You promised that you wouldn't be cold with your high collared sweater, but James only gave in when you had accepted his wool hat in exchange.
He had carefully put it on you, smoothing down your hair and pulling out some loose strands to frame your face, mumbling something about how much lovelier his hat looked on you than on him. You told yourself that he surely must've known what it did to you when his knuckles brushed your cheeks. Right? Surely.
James pokes your side, chuckling, as if he sensed that your mind was drifting elsewhere. He cracks another joke, saying that if you were the one to teach him Astronomy, he might actually pay attention in class. He says it like it's a deal and you feel inclined to do whatever it takes to hold up your side of the bargain.
You laugh helplessly, feeling drunk on a little bit of everything; the stars above, James' gentle laughter, the familiar smell of broom wax and crisp winter air. This must be cosmic love, you think to yourself. Your breath clouds in front of you, becoming one with his. All the while, you're too aware of James' shoulder bumping into you, his leg pressed against yours. There's no one out here but you two.
You have all the room in the world, but James chose to sit this close to you. Probably close enough for him to hear your heart pounding. Did he do it for a reason? You'd love to know.
"You don't need me to pay attention in Astronomy," you find yourself saying in response, something daring laced in the drawl of your voice. His eyes flash, bright and a bit wild. It's the same look he gets after you challenge him to a race on your brooms. His grin grows wide, carefree, and oh so lovely.
"Please." His face comes impossibly closer and you lean in without another thought, eager to take whatever it is James will give you. You feel his breath on your lips.
"I will always need you, Y/N."
Somehow he makes it sound genuine.
Then he winks and leaves you a horrid, forsaken mess. Somehow he makes that feel like a nice gesture too.
Incredulously, you stare at him as he leans back, elbows resting on the seats behind him. James Potter, you think weakly, what are you doing to me? Not for the first time you ponder what you would do if you can't have him. You almost double over from the striking pain in your chest.
Then he points out another constellation and you nearly forget all about yourself. He's good at that. Never ceasing to show you that the world is bigger than the two of you. Making you forget and remember that you might be in love. Because what if you were in love?
James cups the back of his neck, then points towards the door of the library, almost shyly letting you know that he's leaving. You nod slowly, still dazed. A small smile crosses his lips before you watch him round the corner, his back disappearing from your sight.
You blink, letting out a ragged breath. You feel like you got the wind knocked out of you. Like you just lost your twin. Someone who knows you like no one else ever will. Someone who might just be your better half. Someone who sometimes makes you feel like they want nothing to do with you.
It's ridiculous, you think bleakly to yourself, you're so down bad.
And James Potter makes it feel like a curse and a blessing.
#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter fanfiction#james potter fic#james potter fluff#james potter imagine#james potter x you#james potter x y/n#marauders fanfiction#marauders#taylor swift#ttpd#the tortured poets department
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𝐓𝐨𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫 ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊
synopsis: your boyfriend takes you out on a date while he sees how well you like the new toy he made for you
tags: overstimulation, semi-public, vulgar, explicit, thigh riding, penetration
wrd cnt: 1.0k
a/n : rewrite/repost from first acc!
Imagine tartaglia being your own personal toy maker. ;)
He'd love to test all his inventions on you, mostly in you.
One night you'd be taking a stroll with him through the harbor to find a place to eat, as night was falling fast. Before you enter the building, he's got you against a wall in an alleyway and his hand down your skirt, pushing your panties aside and inserting a controlled vibrator into you after you finally agree to his schemes. ���Make sure this doesn’t fall out yeah” He said with a grin and quick kiss to the cheek.
You two made a bet before this, if you caved and demanded for him to take you home then you'd be filling in for his errands for 2 weeks.
A few minutes go by, and you're paranoid. Why hasn't he done anything yet? He's usually so eager? A few more minutes go by and it's time to order food, as you begin your order you feel a small vibration in between your legs, here we go.
It was bearable, and you didn't have any trouble ordering anything. You simply look at him and offer a smile.
"Anything wrong princess? You look a little stiff."
“Nope. I feel wonderf-“ As you reply to him you cut yourself off, you could feel a sudden increase in intensity.
Your entire chair was beginning to vibrate and your clit was throbbing at this point. You squeezed your legs so hard and your hands began to fist up, you look at his smug face in a pleased manner and he completely turns it off. Exhaling deeply as laughs.
"You're shaking sweetheart, do you need anything? Should I call the waiter?”
He knows exactly what he's doing, and you hate that it's turning you on so much.
Quickly after your food arrives, you enjoy your meal together without any fuss.
After the bill is paid you walk throughout the shops, heading up to the golden house as Tartaglia had unofficial business to conduct. At the shops, you spy some handmade glass artworks, and spent time looking at them. After deciding to purchase one and going up to the salesman's, you could feel small tingles.
Immediately after, it's all the way up again. One of your knees buck and you drop the money. You squat down to pick it up and the toy is pressing up against all your most sensitive areas, your knees shaking now. You pay for your product and your breathing intensely. You can't handle it anymore.
"Okay you win let's go.", you say, pulling him off to the patio of a nearby tea shop, clutching your bag.
He smirks, "what was that?"
"Tartaglia- take. me. home."
"Home? That's pretty far from here", he sits down on one of the chairs on the patio as the toy is still buzzing inside you.
"Turn it off then you've already won-!”
"Aw baby but it's so fun to see you squirm like this, how about I just give you what you want?"
Your eyes light up slightly, you can't let him see how happy you are or it'll just go to his head.
You nod, thinking he's agreeing to taking the two of you home but he's not moving?
"You don't want it now?"
Here? Now? You could hardly believe him. But the thought of it didn't turn you off, it did quite the opposite.
The toy in your pussy was driving your thoughts and before you could think you were sat on his lap, with your tongues twined. You could feel his hands gripping your thighs as he grinded you into his cock, you could feel how hard it was even through his clothes.
"If you really want it you'll have to show me."
You couldn't take it anymore.
You slipped off your panties and rubbed yourself on his thigh, rutting against him, your pussy was so wet he could feel it soaking his clothes. His hands reached towards your chest and pulled down your shirt, your breasts spring out as he plays with your nipples, watching your tits bounce as you ride his thigh.
"You really want me to fuck your guts huh baby?"
You nod and his hand finally slips down towards your sex, he licks his fingers and rubs your sore clit, you've already came a few times from the toy still left inside your hole.
He pulls you off his thigh and sets you on his lap, unbuckling his belt and you watch his cock grow even more. He slides his tip up and down your slit, pressing his head against your clit.
Finally, the toy is out of you, and not seconds later replaced by his huge cock.
He's bouncing you up on his member, suckling on your chest, watching you rub your clit.
"You look so sexy like this baby, I hope someone sees how perfect you look while I stuff you full."
You almost forgot you were in public, but it just made you more wet thinking about the risk.
Anyone could see you riding Tartaglia, but all you cared about was his cum filling you up.
You find him twitching his legs, furrowing his eyebrows as you suck his cock in, tightening around him as you get closer.
Not after long, he's rutting into you as you bounce and cursing so loud people might just hear. Your moans escape you as you try to hold back, but you end up just releasing on his dick, leaving a white rim at the base of his cock.
Seeing you fucked out and breathless sends him over the edge, he fucks his cum into your hole and you fall into his shoulder, as he breathes even faster.
Time to run errands for 2 weeks!
whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.
#jo’s posts#smut#genshin smut#genshin#genshin impact smut#genshin impact#genshin imagines#childe#tartaglia smut#ajax#childe tartaglia ajax#ajax smut#childe smut#tartaglia#childe tartagalia#genshin tartagalia#genshin childe
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Hello ☺️ I really really enjoyed the boxer jason and your over all jason imagines they make me feral. I was wondering if I could request one where the reader is like all about jason and he isn't used to it and she is like a big ball of sunshine always happy to see jason and will like drop a conversation as soon as he walks into the room and go on over to him.
a/n: anon, thank you so much for this sweet message and this really juicy request!! <333 I'll have to do you one better with this request, I hope you enjoy.
Mr.Stratford is talking about something. Something about his second dog and his third wife. Or maybe it's his third do and his second wife? You can't really tell. At this point you know that he's had three wives and five dogs. And he has so many funny stories about them. He thinks it's funny but you think it's a downright snooze fest.
You keep from yawning when you decide to move a bit. That way you'll have sight of the door and see who's coming in and out. You nod on as the man continues speaking, losing a minute of your life with every word he says.
It's not until a white tuft of hair appears in the doorway do the sparkles come back into your eyes. You hand the man your flute of bubbly and starts fast walking over to him.
Jason sees you coming and holds open his arms. You launch yourself at him. He hugs you back.
"Next time we show up together." you say.
"You just walked away from the mayor of Gotham." Jason says.
"He's got three more months left until reelection. So what." you answer and shrug your shoulders.
-
You look at him. Taking him all in. The hook of his nose. His eyelashes, that are truly unfair of him to have, and his eyes. His big brown eyes.
You slide your finger down the side of his face, his cheekbone, and smile.
"Is everything okay?" he asks.
You nod slowly, "yeah just can't believe you're mine. It's kinda crazy."
"You're the one out of my league." he tries.
But you counter when you get up and straddle him. With your thighs on either side of his waist you place your hands on top of his chest. He just looks at you, with that face.
He makes the same face whenever you greet him or talk about him to himself. Like he doesn't believe it. Like he thinks it's an illusion or something.
You remind him every day it's not.
"Jason Todd, you are so far out of my league we're not even playing the same sport. I don't know what I did to deserve you, but I promise I'll wake up and earn you. Every day." you say.
Jason's eyes go a bit wide. And he holds onto your hands that are place atop his chest. You lean down and press two kisses to the back of his hands.
-
Jason comes to pick you up at work and it's like the sun is shining again. You fold up your apron and jog around the coffee counter. And when you finally meet him at the door, you stop mere inches from him.
He looks down at you with a smile.
"Hi." he says.
You smile even wider, "Hi Jason."
He shakes his head with a smile and brings you into a hug. You hug him back immediately. He rocks the both of you side to side. He also handles you away from the door to not bump into anyone coming into the coffee shop.
"Ready to go home?" he asks.
You nod as you snuggle further into his chest.
-
You lose him in a crowd once. once. It only happens once because after the two of you create a game plan. Contingencies upon contingencies to make sure it doesn't happen again.
When you and Jason are in a packed dive bar. Something about it being trivia night and also happy hour and also a celebration for surviving the latest scarecrow attack.
You're by the bar and he's trying to secure a table for the two of you. And you get a bit down trodden when you realize you can't see him near you. You start looking past the dozens of heads but you still can't find him.
So you do the one thing that you remember from a tv show once. You bend down and look at the shoes. As you crab walk through the crowd you pass by so many of them.
Until you can see his familiar brown boots. The noticeable scuff on them that you saw when he put them on just an hour ago. You pick yourself up and see his head amongst the others.
When you finally get within three feet of him you reach out and call to him. He turns around and he smiles.
"Thought I lost you." he says.
"Nope. I just looked for your boots." you answer.
"We've gotta come up with something else. What if I throw these boots away? Or if someone has the same kind?" he asks.
You put your hand on his cheek, "I'll always find you. The boots just made it easier."
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Steps and Swishes
a/n: promise the next part will probably have more of the professional dancing lol
Word count: 2.3k
Warnings: none!
***
In moments like these, you can't help but appreciate your body's resilience, its unwavering stamina that carries you through the literal marathon of your day. But as you navigate this relentless sprint, you find yourself hoping there's still some fuel left in your tank when you reach the audition.
Waking up late was never part of the plan, especially not on a day when a crucial audition awaits. "Crap!" you mutter under your breath as you hastily exit your dorm room, clutching a piece of bread in one hand and your phone in the other. Each step is a stride toward salvaging what's left of your punctuality.
For the most part, things seem to be going smoothly as you dash towards the building. Until it’s not.
You wrench open the glass door of the lobby and dash into the elevator, heart pounding with each passing floor. Finally, as the doors slide open, you burst forth into a labyrinth of corridors, your destination painfully close. Or so you think.
Just when you believe the worst is behind you, you turn a corner and collide with an unexpected obstacle: a cascade of blonde hair and scalding coffee.
“Fuck!” The word rips from your lips as you stagger backward, the searing liquid seeping through your clothes. With trembling hands, you peel the wet fabric from your skin, eyes fixed on the ruinous stain spreading across your once pristine white shirt.
“Holy shit,” the figure mumbles, “I didn't mean that at all. Are you ok?”
A hand reaches out hesitantly towards your shirt, then freezes awkwardly in mid-air. It's the final straw.
Your gaze shoots up to meet the woman in front of you, ready to unleash a torrent of curses, but all words die on your tongue as you're confronted with wide, concerned eyes. Eyes that you know all too well, belonging to none other than Paige Bueckers.
Going to the same school as Paige Bueckers had never really stood out to you until today.
"I'm so sorry," Paige says, glancing down at your shirt, her hand still suspended awkwardly between you. Silence hangs heavy in the air. "I… I'll buy you a new one, I swear. Let me make it up to you."
In that moment, you realize that even if she were to buy you ten or twenty shirts, it wouldn't change the fact that you're about to miss your audition if you don't hurry. The inconvenience of the situation dawns on you in full force.
You let out an exasperated sigh, your gaze flicking from your stained shirt to Paige and back again. Then, once more, your eyes travel from her to your shirt. You can't help but notice how effortlessly chic and pristine her shirt appears compared to your own.
“Take off your shirt,” you deadpan without much consideration.
Paige's eyes widen further, resembling a deer caught in headlights. “W-what?” she stammers, inching away slowly.
You, however, couldn't care less if she looked at you as crazy. “You said you wanted to make it up to me?” you ask, raising an eyebrow before gesturing towards the bathroom behind her. “I have an audition in five minutes, and unless I want to blow my shot, I need to look presentable.”
The blonde hesitates, her gaze shifting between your outstretched fingers and the bathroom door. Then, with a slow turn of her head, you can almost hear the gears in her mind grinding to a halt. “And how does me taking off my shirt help you?”
“Just get in there and swap shirts with me,” you grumble, shooting her a soft glare. “It'll be quick. Once I'm done, you can have it back. Deal?” You silently pray she doesn't call the cops given how stupid and crazy you must sound, but the desperation in your eyes seems to sway her as she hesitantly nods.
“Alright, fine.” she sighs, walking towards the bathroom.
***
For the most part, the audition went relatively smoothly. Well, except for the fact that you received a barrage of odd looks for bursting in looking disheveled, with the invasive aroma of coffee clinging to you like a second skin. You could swear they caught whiffs of it every time you executed a dance move. But on the bright side, Paige's shirt did align nicely with the hip-hop theme they wanted, so hooray for small victories, you suppose.
Exiting the room, your shoulders sag immediately. Scanning the area for a familiar blonde, you finally spot Paige and make your way over, tapping her shoulder gently.
Startled, she quickly turns off her phone, giving you her full attention. “How'd it go?”
You shrug, not feeling up to sugarcoating it. “It was alright, I guess.”
Paige's expression deflates. “Gosh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to mess up your audition.”
“Nah, don't worry about it,” you try to brush it off, though your voice betrays a hint of frustration. “If I hadn't been such a klutz and actually woke up on time, I wouldn't have been in such a rush, and none of this would've happened.”
A brief silence lingers between you two before Paige breaks it. “Hey, let's make a deal,” she proposes, suddenly piquing your interest. “You can hang onto the shirt for now. I'll take this one,” she taps the stained area with her palm, “wash it, and give it back to you later.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Really? I'm totally fine with changing again. Why would you even let me take your shirt home—”
“Just…” she interrupts, sounding almost exasperated, “It's just a way for you to trust that I won't flake out and keep your shirt or something,” she mumbles, scratching the back of her neck nervously. “If you have my shirt, the only way I could get it back is by washing yours and swapping. I know it sounds silly.”
You chuckle. “Maybe just a little.”
Paige smiles, briefly averting her gaze before meeting your eyes again. “Just… let me clean it. I already feel bad enough.”
With a resigned sigh, you give in to her plea. “Fine, give me your number.”
Paige retrieves her phone with surprising speed, a wide grin spreading across her face. She clears her throat, opening her phone and displaying the number pad. “Are you usually around campus? You look like a student.”
After entering your number, you call yourself and retrieve your own phone as it starts to ring. “Yeah… I'm just looking for a part-time gig for now. Nothing too demanding.”
The blonde's interest is piqued. “So, what was the audition for?”
“Just some dancing,” you murmur, half-expecting her to burst into laughter like some others might. But instead, her reaction is one of genuine shock.
“That's awesome! KK would love you,” Paige jokes, and you audibly release a deep breath, grateful that there's no mockery in sight.
“I'm… flattered. Though I'm afraid she might work me to the bone with TikTok dances.”
Paige erupts into laughter, bending over in amusement before regaining her composure. “She might, but she means no harm, I promise,” she says, her expression turning more earnest. “You might have to swing by and show us some moves.”
“Hmm, I might just have to do that,” you reply with a smile.
Paige rubs her hands together awkwardly. “Well, I'll let you go. I don't want to hold you back any longer. I'll definitely text you.”
You nod, “I'll look forward to a white shirt”
She smiles before excusing herself. As you go about your way, you can't help but glance back, only to find the blonde has beaten you to it, snapping her eyes away from you in an instant.
***
The next morning breezes by in a blur. You manage your early classes and decide to take the afternoon off, indulging in a leisurely lounge session that rivals the pace of a sloth. Despite knowing you should probably get moving, the mere thought of tackling errands or practicing feels like an insurmountable task.
You flop onto your back on the carpeted floor, idly gazing at the ceiling until the tranquil silence is abruptly shattered by the muffled buzzing of your phone. With a lazy stretch, you reach for your phone, glancing at the notification.
One text message.
Sitting up, you unlock your phone.
‘Hey! It's Paige. You know, the girl who spilled coffee on you? Yeah, you probably remember that. Anyway… I cleaned your shirt, and I promise it's good as new. Do you want me to swing by your place or are you cool with coming over here?’
Your fingers move instinctively, typing a response before you even fully process it. After all, if THE Paige Bueckers was extending an invitation to her place, who were you to refuse?
‘I don't mind coming over there.’
Three bubbles appear in the corner of the screen.
‘Great! My room is 12C. Just drop by whenever you want.’
‘Alright, I'll be over in a few minutes.’
‘Perfect, I'll be waiting for you.’
You toss your phone aside, feeling an unexpected surge of energy coursing through you. Where it comes from, you're not entirely sure, but you're certainly not going to question it. Not when it propels you onto your feet in a heartbeat.
Without pausing to overthink, you head for a quick shower, ensuring you look somewhat presentable before getting dressed. There's a pitifully evident spring in your step as you make your way to her room, clutching her freshly washed shirt against your body.
However, all semblance of confidence evaporates upon coming face to face with the blue door, 12C stamped at the top. One. Two. Three seconds pass, and you find yourself rooted in place, your arm trembling slightly before dropping back down.
“Shit…” you mutter, suddenly feeling more self-conscious. But you gather your resolve and decide to just go for it.
Almost instantly, you hear shuffling from behind the door, accompanied by distant thuds before it creaks open. Two brown eyes peer out, catching you off guard. You barely have time to process before she gasps, almost comically.
“Oh my god, you're the coffee girl, aren't you?” The girl, whom you now recognize as KK, swings the door open wider, smiling like a child.
“Um… yeah, that's me,” you reply, scratching the back of your neck and holding up Paige's shirt. “I'm just here for a simple exchange.”
“Girl, come on in,” KK drawls, gesturing for you to enter. “She's down the hall to the left.”
“Thanks,” you chuckle.
It's pretty wild how much they're trusting you, but at this point, does it even matter?
You make your way down to what you presume is Paige’s room, rapping lightly on the door.
Paige answers swiftly, her attention seemingly elsewhere. “Kk, I swear to go—” Her gaze lands on you, and her eyes widen abruptly, words faltering. “Oh, my bad. Thought you were that airhead.”
“Hey!” Kk's voice rings out from the other side of the dorm, prompting a giggle from you.
“Come in, come in. I didn’t realize you were here already,” Paige says, opening her door fully. She strides over to her bed, where a neatly folded white shirt rests on top.
“I like your cologne,” you blurt out before even thinking, immediately regretting your lack of filter. You scramble for an excuse as Paige turns to you, her expression unreadable. “I-I mean, your shirt… I'm assuming it was your cologne. It smelled nice.”
She smiles. “Really? I’m trying something new. Must've smelled better than the coffee, huh?”
You step closer to her, the distance between you diminishing. “Anything would be better than that, to be honest. Imagine dancing while drenched in coffee.”
Paige winces, stepping nearer to you. She extends your shirt towards you. “Yeah, sorry about that again. But don't worry, I made sure it was all gone.”
Taking a moment to really take her in, you absorb every detail you may have missed in your earlier rushed encounter. The way her eyes sparkle, the curve of her smile, the subtle flex of her arms. It's almost overwhelming for your heart to handle.
“Here. I washed yours too.”
“Aww, you didn't have to,” she reply with a cheeky grin. “Now I owe you again.”
“I'm always up for some food,” you shrug, though you don't really mean it. “A broke college student will take what they can get.”
“Deal,” Paige says, her tone shifting slightly more serious. “We could even go now if you want.”
“Wow, didn't expect you to actually say yes. I mean, aren't you like… a celebrity or something around here?” you comment, feeling a mix of surprise and flattery.
Paige shrugs, a smirk playing on her lips. “What, are you worried they'll mistake us for a couple or something?”
“W-what? No…” you stutter, feeling your cheeks flush at the mere suggestion.
“I'm just messing,” she says, turning her head expectantly, her gaze soft yet playful.
It seems to effortlessly dismantle whatever defenses you had put up. “Fine,” you relent, smiling as Paige's face instantly lights up.
“Sweet. Hold on, let me grab my stuff,” she says, brushing past you, leaving you standing awkwardly in the middle of her room. You shift on the balls of your feet until…
“Psst!” Your head snaps towards the doorway as KK looks positively gleeful, biting her finger to stifle a laugh. “You're still gonna dance with me, right? Don't go flaking out.”
“Of course I am. And I’m going to beat you with all those TikTok dances,” you retort, a playful spark between the two of you.
KK gasps dramatically, clutching her shirt. “As if!”
“Alright, KK,” Paige interjects, returning from wherever she went, patting KK on the shoulder with a tad too much strength, causing the smaller guard to wince. “That’s enough.”
You catch the shift in Paige's tone, and she shrugs softly once she notices your gaze on her. “Let’s go?”
You nod and follow closely behind, but not before whispering a quick, “It's still on,” to KK, chuckling as her mouth hangs open in silent protest.
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Please more Hikari and Todo. It's scratching this itch in my brain😩
IF YOU WANT IT ๋࣭ ⭑
☾₊‧⁺...lunar's note : AAA yesyes this has been brewing for a while, i am happy to write hakari i love him so sooooo much!! and ive got another ask for a todo fic im workin on so this'll be hakari's piece <33 it a bit short bc ive got a bit of writers block rn bc of finals taking away my creativity, BUT I THINK ITS GOOD
☾₊‧⁺...cw : smut, pre-established relationship, unprotected sex, dirty talk, begging, mentions of creampies, mentions of birth control, reader makes the birth control decision herself not for the man!!! never get on birth control just cause a man says to!!, hakari nearly loses it
☾₊‧⁺...synopsis : you tell your boyfriend that you'd like to try sex with no condom and he can't help but get a little excited
"you...you what?"
the way you giggle makes him dizzy as you flicked the condom out of his hands with your middle finger and thumb. "you heard me, mr. hakari. no condom, baby girl is on birth control," you said in a singy-song voice. you made the decision a while ago and decided you were going to stick to it. "if you want to use a condom, we can, though, honey," you say, cupping one of his cheeks.
he looked so cute, jaw dropped as he kneels between your thighs, dick hard and twitching. "nonononono, i wanna try, i do, 'm just..." kinji lets out a heavy sigh before he shuffles a little closer. "c-can't believe you lettin' me d'this, cupcake..."
the poor thing, kinji looks so nervous, his eyes wide as he slowly, carefully, starts to push his tip in. if he's going to do this, he needs to commit, but fuck, your pussy was so hot, he feels like he's gonna die-- the moment his tip pops in, he is a goner. his head falls back and his fingers dig into the fat of your hips as a choked groan escapes him.
"hoooohmygod, baby, what the fuck," kinji swears, looking back down. he didn't wanna miss a single second of his cock pushing inside, but the view wasn't doing him any better. "you're so warm...are you always this wet, cupcake? fuck, i didn't know, baby, i didn't know."
you coo at him, how could you not when he already looks so fucked out? his pretty eyes are rolling back and his lip is between his teeth, the glint of his chain with your name on it dangling so pretty on his neck.
he's not moving yet, he's still inside you, so sure that he's going to lose himself inside of you. but then you start talking and he's so screwed because hearing you say such filthy things in that gorgeous, addictive voice of yours is kinji's weakness.
"c'mon, kinjiiii, you just gonna sit there?"
"mmn, poor thing, 's too good? you gonna cum just from puttin' it in?"
"d'aww, kinjiii...pussy made you fucked out already?"
yes. yes it fucking did.
weakly dropping down to his forearms over you, he presses a little kiss against your cheek before pressing his forehead against yours and glaring at you weakly. you know you've got him where you want him.
"doll, you're so cruel to me."
finally, finally, he starts moving and...it feels way too good.
"o-oh. mnn, kinji, shit," you swear, glancing down to where his cock is slowly dragging out of you just to push back in. "fuck, b-baby, you feel s' hot inside me..." the wet noise that fills the air as he slides back in to the hilt causes makes you both hot in the face, it's already getting messy and he hasn't even picked up the pace yet. he coos at you, kissing you once you begin to mewl his name. "i know, baby, i know, 's good, yeah?"
fuck, the sensation of being inside you without any barrier is intoxicating, overwhelming. kinji's pretty eyes fluttered closed for a moment as he allowed himself to feel every detail of your slick walls gripping him.
"talk t' me, angel, how's it feel, huh? c'mon, pretty baby, i wanna know," kinji whines, hips starting to pick up speed as he grows desperate to hear you say how good it feels.
but you don't even get to respond before he hits so fucking deep that you can feel yourself gush. the feeling of your hot, cushy walls hugging him so tightly paired with the pretty little gasp he gets when his sticky tip nudges against something that makes you get impossibly wetter makes him lose his mind.
"y'feel it, right? 's me, 's all me, an' i don't know if i can go back, baby girl, fuck! ohmygodd, you're so wet, so fucking wet for me."
"can i cum inside? you gonna let me fuck you full? hm? please, baby, i'll be so good to ya, let your man stuff you wit' his cum, 's gonna feel so fuckin' good, promise, promise."
"suckin' me in so good, 'm-'m gonna be in this pussy all the fuckin' time. you can handle it, right? gonna be a good girl and get fucked every. fucking. day. by hakari kinji? say it, i wanna hear you say it, cupcake."
"i love you, baby, y'know that right? yeah? yeah, love you s' fuckin' much, 'm gonna marry you and make sure you never have t' go a day without gettin' fucked raw by this cock, 's alllllll for you."
all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work
#hakari kinji smut#hakari kinji x you#hakari kinji x reader#hakari x you#hakari x reader#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#jjk hcs#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen hcs#🥃 ── kinji.#𖤐 ── lxnarworks.
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little boy spasming on his mom's cock, cunt sopping wet and well-trained from years of being gaslit and raped shown the full extent of her love. his mom is harder than ever, wearing a vibrating cock ring so it buzzes against his plump clit with every balls deep thrust. she readjusts so she can fuck his cervix, cock ring steady on his angry little button. the expression on his face, completely void of any higher-level processing, eyes rolled back, drool streaking his chin and neck from the blowjob he gave her earlier -- she can't believe her own child looks like that. she's never gonna be able to not think about it when she's alone and stroking her clit.
she's glad she decided to set up the camera tonight. usually she uses her phone to film herself plowing his cunt, but with the tripod set up she can get her hands all over her boy while recording all of his cute, squirmy orgasms. he's been cumming so hard tonight too -- working that heart plug into his ass was a great idea alongside the ring. the kid doesn't know what to do with himself.
she's just grateful that she has the willpower to not immediately flood his womb with her load while feeling his drenched pussy grip her clit. still, she's struggling a bit the longer they make love -- each time he starts shaking and thanking her for another orgasm, she has to seat herself balls deep and stay completely still. the combination of the vibrations, his cunt having something thick and throbbing to suckle on, and his asshole clenching around the bejeweled plug is clearly distracting him enough from the break in his mother's pace, though. just to cover all her bases, she's leaned down so she can kiss him whenever she stops, and she switches to more of a slow grind once she calms down. he's definitely cumming more than he can think about it.
he's starting to choke on air, eyes totally white now, convulsing violently as his cervix struggles and slurps at her tip, and that's her cue to pull out to give him a break. she groans at the nasty, creamy noise of her cock sliding out, chuckling at how he squeals and squirts hard on her exiting length. they're still connected, his plump, young cunt fucked open obscenely. she really doesn't know how he's managed to take all of her over the months -- she's much bigger than most women. the kid's a natural-born whore.
"...mom," he manages, whole body shaking. she swallows down a strangled, short moan at the sight of cream drooling from his clenching hole, gripping her cock for a moment just to stroke its whole length right in front of his broken-in pussy. "yeah, kiddo?" she grunts, feeling her balls tighten up.
"why're you...why'm i getting fucked like this?" he whines, and she pauses, letting out a short, overwhelmed huff as she freezes, trying not to shoot ropes over his visibly throbbing clit at the words alone. holy fuck.
"'m sorry, baby," she says, feeling a little guilty, which is an emotion she admittedly doesn't feel all that often when she's dicking her boy down. but looking at his teary eyes, his puffy, teased nipples, how his lower half still trembles like she's still actively demolishing his boycunt...a tiny bit of sympathy creeps into her brain despite the delicious heat sinking further into her body. "mom's almost done. you think you can cum a few more times for me?"
she's already slipping back inside, not waiting for an answer. she sighs as she feels that incredible slide and her tip already squishing against his cervix. when he tries to open his lidded eyes, she can see how he's struggling to keep them uncrossed. "icann'tt," he attempts, but she's already forcing him right open, grinding her sensitive head into that tight pucker.
"doesn't matter," she mutters, angling her hips so he has nowhere to escape from the vibrator again, feeling up the soft peaks of his little tits. "take your breeding."
he frantically holds onto her forearms as she thumbs at his nipples, legs askew and kept apart by her body in between them as she digs deep inside him, and she rumbles in approval. poor fuckin' kid. the noises coming out of him are more akin to small, scared prey. it's incredibly erotic paired with the filthy noises coming from his traumatized conditioned happy pussy. she's so glad she decided to start raping spoiling her kid like this -- this is the best stress relief she's discovered in years. he clearly likes it too -- his underwear is almost always ruined when she does his laundry. he clearly can't get his mom's clit out of his head, even at school. even then, his grades are better, more consistent, and he's made far more friends this year than he usually does. her baby's been glowing. seems like he just needed some momcock to break him out of his shell.
he's already cumming when she bottoms out, a broken, pretty moan stuttering out of her as she feels her balls pulse hard against the cold metal of his plug. she grins, a breathy laugh spilling out of her when he wraps his legs tighter around her with every spurt of her fertile seed. a panicked, fucked-out mommyyy slips from his tightened vocal cords and a grunt escapes her, cock twitching with how hard he's clenching around her. maybe she...shouldn't enjoy this as much as she does, but that just makes it even hotter.
as she works her load into him, she watches him buck up against her with a tight grip still on her arms. the way he's looking at her is so maddeningly innocent, more than a touch of fear there, contrasted with his drooling, dominated pussy. he's practically daring her to keep fucking him full of cum. her cock jerks inside of him at the thought.
fuck. with the rate his breasts are growing...she's really gonna have to start wearing a condom soon.
#wow#4gepl4y#t4t ns/fw#t4t nsft#trans ns/fw#trans nsft#breeding k1nk#!nc3st#momcon#corruption k1nk#r4pepl4y#if i edited this after posting no i did not
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Hi, I've been reading a lot of your work lately and I absolutely love them!
If it's not a bother can I request Jamil, Azul, Vil and Riddle with their S/O being the children of the great seven? Like they got isakaid there instead of yuu (I'm going to ask for all the Overblot boys because personally I think Idia, malleus and Leona are somehow related to the great seven, either a direct Descendants or distant relative)
Anyways thank you so much if you decide to do this and it's alright if you don't I just really love your writing style and works on the Overblot boys!!
This is a really interesting idea, considering all of the boys really respect the great seven!
Jamil, Azul, Vil, and Riddle with a reader who is the child of the great seven
Jamil:
-Jamil is usually reluctant to show off how smart he really is, but he feels like he has to prove his intelligence when he's with you. You are, after all, the child of the Sorcerer of the Sands. He fully believes that you must be just as wise as your father, even if you actually aren't.
-Jamil never refers to you by title, since it just reminds him that he's a servant, and you are the child of a grand vizier. He knows that you don't care, but he'd rather avoid bringing it up. Instead, he calls you habibi when you're both alone, and he can be more affectionate.
-He refuses to hear anything about you possibly returning to your home. Jamil knows that your father wouldn't approve of you dating a servant, and he can't stand the thought of losing you forever. All he can do is hope that you'll stay, against all odds.
Azul:
-Azul practically begs you to share what you know about your mother. He's always admired the Sea Witch, and he wants to know all there is to know. He'll light up if you reveal some of her wisdom to him, or show him how some of her magic was done.
-I assume that you're also an octopus mer, and that puts Azul at ease because you're like him. The two of you will both curl up in his octopot, giggling as his tentacles tangle with yours. Azul sweetly calls you his precious pearl as holds you, though he'll blush if you give him a pet name too.
-Azul is terrified that you'll leave him one day, and he tries his hardest to make you want to stay with him. He'll spoil you, and he constantly strives to prove that he's worthy of your love. He loves you too much to be able to bear losing you.
Vil:
-Vil doesn't want to push you too much, but the Fairest Queen is well-renowned for her poisons. Surely, you've learned from her, and can teach him. He also asks a lot about her beauty routines. He'll be ecstatic if you share any of her secrets with him.
-Vil adores being able to call you his beautiful prince/princess, and he tends to flaunt your relationship. He preens if you compliment him in return, and gets ridiculously happy if you call him your perfect prince. He feels tempted to record you telling him that, just so he can play it whenever he wants.
-He acts like he's not worried about you potentially leaving, but deep down he's scared that it will happen. He'd do just about anything to get you to stay with him, even if it meant facing off against the Fairest Queen.
Riddle:
-He gets even more serious about following the rules of the Queen of Hearts after realizing that she's your mother. Surely, you're pleased that he remembers all of them, right? Riddle would be baffled if you told him it wasn't necessary, or if you went so far as to criticize your mother for making up so many ridiculous rules.
-Riddle still refers to you by your title, but it's become a term of endearment. He'll kiss your hand as you stroll through the rose maze, and will affectionately call you his prince/princess. He also gets flustered if you refer to him as your prince. Or even better, your king.
-He worries that you miss your mother and your old home, but he desperately hopes that you'll stay with him. If it came down to you going back to your original place, Riddle would choose to go with you. Nothing is more important to him than his love for you.
#riddle rosehearts#riddle x reader#vil schoenheit#vil x reader#jamil viper#jamil x reader#azul ashengrotto#azul x reader#twisted wonderland#twst reader insert#twst x reader#twst
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