#I was lucky to have gotten the chance to meet her

[shironezuninja]

Emotions were out of whack during the weekend. There was an Empathetic Intuition that I couldn’t place. Today, we all now know why.

I’m still unable to post stuff on Facebook through my new iPad. So I’ll create more collages after I mourn for the next 2 days, to make up for my confused, erratic behavior during last weekend.

[artbiter]

wolf in sheep's clothing

art donaldson/reader nsfw summary: art falls for you first yet patrick gets the fortune of having you. what else is art supposed to do but play dirty? tags: stanford!art, stanford reader too, art is a borderline homewrecker, art donaldson is a SNAKE, patrick gets cucked right under his nose </3, oral, slight body worship, TBH idk note: hi this is my first time writing ff since .. 2021 .. and this is definitely a diff style from the ao3-approach i usually take to writing but please enjoy i really like art donaldson i really like challengers and i really like art taking what he wants (and i really like mike faist in blonde curls)

art donaldson is not a homewrecker, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't waiting for his chance with you.

he first meets you at one of his games, eyes flitting over the crowd and panting hard after a rather close singles win, before his gaze is magnetically drawn to your pretty face in the bleachers. smiling with your friends, you look so happy to just be watching this game, and when you make eye contact with art you wave excitedly like he's a celebrity, and whisper to your friends after he salutes back with a grin, trying to catch the breath your gorgeous smile has knocked out of him.

he wants to find you so bad after, and so he does. your friends are tennis groupies, hanging behind to flirt with any guy with a racket in hand, but you're just there for moral support. he chases after you just before you leave, just to say hi. an innocuous greeting and thanks for your support. and he sees how jealous your friends are that you tag along once with them and immediately get picked up by art freaking donaldson, but you seem to be oblivious, beaming at him and clasping your hands to your chest. you tell him he was great out there, that you've never "gotten" tennis but that you can feel he's a pro anyway. you part ways and he can't stop thinking about you.

when he tells patrick that he's met the prettiest girl he's ever seen at one of his matches, patrick thinks it's endearing and the epitome of dumb puppy love.

"did you even get her name? or were you just drooling over her?"

"nah, that would've been weird... right? oh shit, should i have? i was trying to be normal about it, i don't know." art beats himself up for not even picking up on your name in conversation, and resolves to seek out your identity and ask you out.

so when he finally has the fortune of seeing you again at a party, he's heartbroken when you smile and wave to patrick in tow.

"patrick!" you laugh and bound up to the pair. "didn't take you as a stanford party type of guy."

"i'm a plus one tonight. lucky i ran into you, huh?" patrick is eye-fucking you and doesn't even try to hide it, and art feels like doubling over in pure grief.

patrick notices but says nothing, only introducing you to art. "yeah, i'm here with my buddy art." he slaps art on the back lightly and art finds out that you and patrick met at another party before this. he remembers you from patrick's anecdotes over lunch, where patrick wouldn't shut up about the hottest chick he's ever seen who wouldn't go home with him, but has been texting ever since.

some other girl, presumably one of your friends, attaches herself to art's arm for the rest of the night, but he can't bring himself to notice or care when patrick kisses you and you lean into it.

patrick got to you first, and art hates himself for it. he won't admit it, but he feels the resentment festering inside of him as soon as patrick announces it's official.

the next best course of action for art is to play the best friend role, obviously. except like the unassuming snake art is, he's going to be your best friend, too.

he's your puppy, waiting on your beck and call — whatever you need, he's got it. your bio homework is impossible? sure, you can copy his. you got no sleep last night? he has your regular order from your favorite café committed to memory. patrick's being such a bad boyfriend? oh, tell him all about it.

"he's so inconsiderate," you whine, slumping over your pillow. "can you believe he forgot our six months? and when i brought it up, he didn't even say sorry. he was just, like, 'i didn't know we were still in high school.' i wanted to die, art, really."

art clicks his tongue in sympathy, criss-crossed on your dorm floor and nodding along to your laments. "no, he's definitely wrong here. i'm sorry he forgot something so important." for good measure, he adds in, "guys should be looking out for their girlfriends all the time. i'd be celebrating monthly anniversaries if i had a girl."

"ugh, right? i thought so, too." you flop back onto your bed, turning your head to gaze at art. he thinks you're so beautiful like this, clad in a t-shirt and shorts, bare faced with tears tinging your eyes. "you're a good guy. i don't know why you don't just date."

he doesn't want to date anyone if it isn't you, but he doesn't say this.

art watches you and patrick continue for another few rocky months, marked by arguments spawned from patrick's chronic nonchalance and your sensitivity to his perceived lack of care. and art gets the full report from both sides; patrick tells him all the time about how he's really trying to make you happy and support you, but he doesn't see why you value such small things. and you cry to art, sobbing that patrick never takes you out anymore if it isn't to fuck, that patrick is too friendly to other girls. art thinks to himself that patrick doesn't deserve you, but he rubs small circles on your back and reassures you that you need to do what's right for yourself.

(he's elated when you don't remove yourself from his touch.)

when you finally break it off with patrick, he hears it from his best friend first.

"dude, she dumped me." patrick's voice buzzes over the phone. "not gonna lie, i saw this one coming. but i thought i was doing good, seriously. fuck, what am i gonna do?"

"i'm sorry, man," art sympathizes before he hears a knock on his door. "yeah, it really does suck. take a breather for a few days. i'm sorry, but i really have to go right now." he peeks into the peephole and sees you standing outside. "let's talk more later?"

patrick is still rambling on the other end, but art hangs up and opens the door for you to immediately come spilling.

"art, i broke up with him. i really couldn't do it anymore." you tell art more things he already knows, like that you liked patrick a lot but you were just uncompatible in the end, and that you wished he listened. as always, art feeds into you, agreeing with your every word. something deep inside art tells him it's wrong to coax his best friend's girlfriend into breaking up with him, and that he's messed up for offering you his support when patrick technically should come first. but when you look up at art through wet eyelashes, sniffling and yearning for comfort, who is he to deny you?

art cups your face gently and presses his lips to yours. he doesn't miss how your eyes widen, but you don't jerk away. his heart pounds in his chest as he holds the small of your back with one hand while the other caresses your cheek. you smell so clean and warm, and your lips are so soft art wonders how patrick could ever give you up without a fight. it solidifies art's need for you, that if patrick won't make you happy, he will.

when you pull away from him, you're breathless, voice barely above a whisper. "art, i don't think we should—"

he can't contain himself from kissing your neck, relishing the soft, smooth expanse, inhaling your scent so deep into his lungs he finds it oxygen. "tell me you don't want this." he laps at your jaw, sucking light bruises onto the sides of your throat. "tell me you don't want me to treat you the way you should be, and i'll stop."

you moan his name involuntarily, and art takes it as the green light to carry you to his bed and kisses back up to your lips. "i'm sorry," he murmurs into your skin. "i'm sorry. i want you so bad."

"then show me," you sigh softly, hands rooting themselves into his blonde curls as his tongue probes your mouth.

like you even had to ask.

tugging down your sweatpants and feeling like coming just as the sight of your underwear, art immediately tears it off of you. he latches himself to your cunt, already weeping, and he looks up at you through hooded eyes, pupils blown wide. "already so wet for me, baby?"

"mmf..." your fingers, still tangled in his hair, tighten their grip as you push his head forward, and he obliges.

he licks wide stripes, feeling you convulse and twitch every time his tongue comes in contact with your clit. his dick throbs in his pants just from eating you out.

"you taste so sweet. fuck, you're delicious," he pants, making out with your pussy like it's your lips. "don't know how i survived this long without you."

you buck your hips up into his mouth, mewling and spasming as he suckles and licks at just the right places. your cunt is soaked, but neither of you can tell whether it's from your arousal or how much art is slobbering over your pussy. "right there," you squeak out, a hot wave washing over your body as you cum on art's face.

and fuck, art almosts busts on the spot with you. his mouth doesn't cease, swirling patterns all over your vulva, grazing over your clit, dipping his tongue inside of you as you lock your legs around his head desperately.

"too much, too much!" you feebly try to pull his head up from your cunt, but he's so addicted to your taste he barely notices how sensitive you are now, how your clit twitches and aches for a break.

art can only laugh softly as he pulls himself back up to you, kissing you gently as his hands roam underneath your shirt and to your bra clasp.

"mm, you're so good," you gasp into art's mouth as his kiss becomes sloppier. "so good to me, art."

"it's what you deserve," he mumbles back, unhooking your bra and clumsily pulling your shirt off so your tits spill free. and even art is admired by his own self-restraint, just staring at your perfect body on display for him. he's been dreaming of this day for months now, jerking himself off late at night to thoughts of you sucking his cock, to pictures of you smiling on his phone, to the memory of your voice the day he met you. it's so wrong of him to fuck his best friend's ex fresh after the split, but why do you feel so right beneath him? "i've been waiting for this," he whispers into your neck. "been wanting to show you how much i want you. want to make you feel good. want to treat you so much better."

"fuck me, art, please," you beg him, relenting and palming at his boxers. you're so fucking easy, letting him touch you like this and being compliant as he undresses you, kisses you all over, shrugs his boxers off as you help him position his cock right at your entrance. it's not your fault that art has been nothing but kind and gentle to you. it's not your fault that he's been flirting with you since day 1, and now all his desires have culminated into head of a lifetime. and art finally has what he wants now: you.

and even when he barely pushes the tip in, he wants to cum inside of you so badly he feels dizzy. "so fucking tight, i'm gonna cum, gonna cum right now," he gasps in your ear as he unsheathes himself, stretching your warm, tight hole. "so perfect, holy shit. fucking made for me, baby, you feel so—" he can't stop himself from rutting into you, and he just about comes undone when he hears his name tumble from your lips in pained moans. it takes all the self-control in the world for art to not pour himself into your wet heat right now.

"slow down, art, fuck, you're so big," you sob, clawing at his back. he wishes he could fuck you nice and slow, the way he always envisioned his first time with you would be. he'd fantasized about nights with you full of languid strokes, making you scream his name with calculated, intentional thrusts straight to the spongy patch buried within you. but art is just a humble man, and when your walls, silky and warm, are choking his dick, he can't resist fucking into you like a jackhammer. you cry, moaning uncontrollably as your hands clutch tightly at him, letting his cock ruin you.

art's head goes fuzzy, and all he knows now is your pussy trying to milk him dry and that he can't say anything coherent besides strings of guttural moans telling you how warm, how tight, how good you feel on his dick, how your sweet cunt was made for him, how beautiful you look and sound at his mercy, how he wants you to be his so bad and that he'll do anything for you to be his. that his only regret is not claiming you first.

you keep crooning in his ear, honeyed moans that intoxicate him dizzier and dizzier as you tell him that he can have you. with a few more stutters of his hips, and a convulsing squeeze from your walls onto his cock, his head falls into the crook of your neck as he pulls out and shoots ropes all over your stomach, right as you cry out his name uncontrllably, heaving beneath him. a low, resounding grunt rips from his throat while his seed paints your abdomen, and he feels you shiver upon the warmth touching your skin.

"i'm sorry," he apologizes again like the gentleman he is. his breath still heaves at an uneven rhythm, staggering as he attempts to regain his composure, but every time his eyes fall upon you it feels like he wants to go for round 2. "i'll clean you up, pretty girl. you were so perfect." he presses his forehead to yours, sweaty and damp, and whispers, "you were made for me."

some sick sense of pride fills art from head to toe as your body trembles in an attempt to catch your breath, your hair disheveled and lips puffy, patches of skin blooming pink and red from art essentially making out with every inch of your body. and you blush when you catch him staring, covering your face and murmuring for him to come back to bed.

he did this to you. he made you such a picturesque image of ruined perfection, splayed out on his bed and stained with his cum, pleading for his embrace.

patrick would have to pry you from his cold, dead hands.

[love-quinn]

— PARTIAL CREDIT

summary — when a new member of the waitstaff starts undermining you, you worry that your job might be in jeapordy. carmen knows you better than you think.

warnings — swearing, i think that's it

pairing — carmen berzatto x fem!waitress reader, semi (?) established relationship

pronouns — she/her

word count — 2.2k

note — i know i fully dropped off the face of the earth but unfortunately i was too busy channeling waitress reader a little too hard, i actually have to leave for work in a few hours but i really wanted to get something out. this 100% isn't inspired by true events or me projecting in any way, anyway i hope you enjoy!! <3

Being the only waitress at a successful restaurant is hard. During the dinner rush, between wiping tables, grabbing drinks and running food, you’ve slowly learned to be more adaptable to the Bear’s new clientele base. That’s not without its struggles, of course. 

Fortunately, Carmy and Natalie seem to understand that it’s a major handful to simply do your job. Which is why Richie thought it appropriate to call you in two hours early to meet the new waiter.   

Liam’s nice from what you’ve gathered. He’s been working with you at the Bear for about two months at this point, most of that has involved you and Richie training him, and he’s been very receptive to your instruction. 

Sure, sometimes he mutters under his breath when a customer asks him for something, but hey, they’re annoying sometimes. And sure, sometimes you find him in the walk-in on his phone, but you’d be lying if you said you were never on your phone at work. He’s had no complaints, and the work is always done to a standard that’s expected (he is still in training, you’re not delusional). 

You’ve worked at the Bear since they were still the Beef, right after Carmen took over. He realised Richie couldn’t keep up with the stuff at the front by himself, so he’d gone with the cheapest option available and thanked god every day that you weren’t awful at your job. You had just graduated from UofC and if you didn’t get a job when you had, you would have been pretty much out of options. You had no work experience outside of being a TA in college (which apparently didn’t have a lot of transferable skills, according to most of your potential bosses). You hadn’t been able to score an insane internship, you didn’t make super stellar grades, you’d been too busy being desperately poor and struggling to keep up.

You’d been really lucky that Carmen had taken a chance on you when he had, and you had been desperate to show him you were aware of that. Liam didn’t seem to have the same sentiment.

He was the same age as you, and he’d actually gone to UofC as well. He’d gotten a pre-med degree but wanted to take some time off before he went for his MD at Rosalind Franklin. 

He picked up on the work fairly easily, remembered when you showed him where the cleaning supplies were, showed him how to work the buttons on the till to ring in orders, and introduced him to all the staff. They were nice to him, nice enough. It took them a while to warm up to him, just like it took them a second to warm up to Carmen, to Sydney, to you. 

But now, several months in, they all got along enough that work was going well. You didn’t have to work six days a week if you didn’t want to now that Liam was there to lighten the load (you did, you made sure Natalie knew that). Now, you could actually take your lunch break without worrying they were being completely overrun. 

On the whole, things seemed to really improve. 

Until, of course, they didn’t. 

You started hearing whispers, soft remarks of “Oh, I did that for her,” to Richie about greeting table seventeen. Small “I wonder why that wasn’t done, I’ll just do it quickly.” 

“Not to be that person, but I noticed that a lot of the straws haven’t been stocked up. I feel like I have to do it every time. I just wonder what she’s doing when she’s back here…”

You do your best to not let it get to you. He’s never worked in the service industry before, he’s probably just doing his best to make sure that his efforts are being noticed. You were almost lucky, in that way, that you were the only real waitress they’d hired. 

It’s an unusually warm day as you slide in through the back entrance to work. You’re your usual twenty minutes early, lucky that there’s enough work to do that Carmen often encourages punctuality (and thus, fairly compensates for it). 

Liam is scheduled today, but he’s leaving after the lunch shift. You get your break while the kitchen does prep-work for dinner, and then you’re coming back for dinner as well. 

Marcus is in his corner, kneading bread dough with a concentrated look on his face. You brush past him with an airy hello that he returns with a half-hearted wave, not looking up from his task. 

Tina is on vegetables, and she stops you for a moment to ask about a shipment arriving. You assure her that you’ll check when you get to the other side of the kitchen, making your way to the front.

The chairs are already all down, table cloths clean and freshly washed. Sydney went down to the laundromat to get them all clean that morning; she’d texted you and asked if you wanted to come but you told her that you really, really didn’t. 

Your first job is a pre-opening sweep, then a restock, then a menu review. You have 87 minutes until service, and Liam should be here in the next fifteen minutes or so. You have just enough time to go and bug Richie into showing you more pictures of Eva’s last birthday party. 

You stick your head into the office just in time to catch the tail end of a sentence that you definitely weren’t meant to hear; “...doesn’t even stack the chairs? What is she doing here?”

Your work anxieties - the idea that every time something goes wrong it was your fault, that one missed drink or late appetiser would have you fired, that every time a customer berated you it was actually your fault - had definitely eased some in the six months you’d been working there. You’d stopped thinking that every time someone was complaining it was about you, but that meant that when they really were talking about you, you knew. 

Liam’s standing there, leaning up against a pile of papers that Carmen is staring roughly at. He looks tired - when doesn’t he? - and like he doesn’t really want to hear whatever it was that Liam was saying. 

“A lot more than you do,” Carmen grumbles. He runs a hand over his face from the bottom up, coming to a rest when it’s gripping onto his curls. 

“I’m always covering her sections,” Liam groans. “The amount of time that Rich’s given me her table’s drinks, it’s insane. We should start pooling our tips.”

Carmen wants to say a lot back to that. That his name is Richie, and calling him Rich doesn’t make him any more like the finance frat bros that Liam is so desperate to associate with. That tip pooling would be insanely unfair to you considering Carmy’s pretty sure Liam’s made less than what you make in a day. That he stacks the chairs because he likes to, and you know that. 

Instead, he settles on “you’re always covering her sections because she’s always covering up for you when you screw up.”

Liam looks like he’s unsure whether or not to go ghostly pale or beet red at the statement. “Wh- has my performance not been up to scratch, sir?”

Carmen stands. “I didn’t really notice it, at first, cause everything was going so well. She’d never tell on you, she knows what it’s like to struggle at a job.” He looks disdainfully down at Liam’s too-new dress shoes. Professional but impractical as a waiter. From what Carmen’s noticed, this is the second pair he’s ruined. “She’d never tell me that your silverware is never rolled, so she’s been staying late and rolling every single one of them. She’d never tell me that your tables are never cleared away. She’d never tell me that you had six meals comped in your first month because you couldn’t be fucked writing shit down.

So yeah, maybe you get her tables a refill when she’s too busy telling one of us one of your guests was coeliac because you forgot to, but that does not give you the right to look down your entitled fucking nose at her.” Carmen gets close, not close enough to the point where it could be uncomfortable, but much closer than he’d ever get to Liam if he could help it. 

“You don’t like picking up her slack? That’s fine, that’s fucking fine, because to be honest, it seems like you’re creating more work for her anyway. You’re done.”

He looks pointedly towards the door to the small office. 

Liam knows exactly what Carmy’s telling him. “Sir, I-”

Carmen raises a finger and points. “You’re fucking done.”

Liam scampers away so quickly he doesn’t even see you eavesdropping. 

Carmy knows, though. He seems to have a sixth sense for when you walk into a room. If you’re not planning on coming in to confront him about firing Liam then he has no intention of bringing it up with you. He sits down, putting his forehead on his fist. “Sir.”

You’re standing right in the door, it’s practically impossible for Carmen not to notice you. But he pretends, allowing you the chance to slip away and act like you hadn’t just witnessed him firing Liam for being slightly mean to you. 

He opens his eyes to see you standing there still. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” your voice is soft. The collar of your shirt is tucked underneath on one side, and Carmen has to resist the urge to reach up and smooth it out. He’s not quite sure why and he doesn’t feel like unpacking it. “He’s still learning, I don’t mind helping him out.”

Carmen doesn’t mince his words. “He’s a dick, don’t defend him.”

He swivels away from his desk and gestures for you to sit. After a second of hesitation, you perch yourself on top of the small surface. You’re not sure who moves first, Carmen to reach up and take your hands or you to reach down to let him. Neither of you have ever spoken about it, like a lot of things. How he always makes sure you get extra food and you make sure Carmen isn’t bothered while he sets up the dining room. 

You hadn’t realised how much Liam had been heightening your anxiety while he was there. “He’s not allowed to do that to you.” Carmy sounds genuinely pissed. “You do fucking everything out there, he’s not allowed to come in and treat you like some sanctimonious fuck. You… you should’ve come to talk to me about it.” He gives in. “You could’ve.”

“I didn’t want to be a problem.” You admit quietly. “You have enough without me.”

Plenty goes unsaid between you and Carmen. You don’t talk when he drives you home in the dark, in the snow. But he’d be naive to believe that the same rules applied to everyone else. The kitchen staff talks, none more than Richie. Carmy is surprised he hadn’t decked that pre-med asshole already. 

“You’re not a problem, honey,” he says gruffly. You stay silent for a moment before realising that’s probably all you’re going to get out of him. 

“I need to go prep dining for service,” you say after a moment, not wanting to speak too loudly. 

Camry’s grip on your hand tightens and for a brief second he feels panic set in. You clearly are feeling okay, so it’s not that he needs to check on you. You’re well ahead of schedule. There’s no reason for Carmen to keep his hand enclosed around yours. And yet he does. And yet you let him.

“Liam was just in here bragging about how dining room prep was already done,” he says after a short while. “You’re well ahead of time.”

“He is,” you point out airily. “I’d never want to take credit for his work.”

Carmen squeezes your hands once, eyes crinkling at the sides. You both know you need to go over everything Liam did in an attempt to make himself look better, not one hundred percent trusting him to have done it properly. There’s 56 minutes until service before Carmen finally lets you go (and only because he has prep he needs to get done).

Plenty goes unsaid between you and Carmen. You don’t say anything when he cracks his office door open for you when you need a breather. You don’t say anything when his station’s been cleaned for him miraculously while you’re waiting for him to finish paperwork.

Luckily for you, the rest of your coworkers seem to understand this time. Nobody mentions Liam or his absence. No one mentions the stars drawn on the band-aid on Carmen’s wrist. And, most surprisingly pleasant, no one mentions how Carmen has started calling you honey more than perhaps your real name.

It makes it even nicer when everyone heads out, leaving you and Carmen alone in the restaurant for the night. They seem to have miraculously developed tact over the last 24 hours, but you’re pretty sure nothing could have stopped Richie from telling everyone about the way that Carmen holds your hand the entire way to your apartment. 

[vivwritesfics]

Hello! Soulmate au for either max, lando or oscar? Or anyone you're comfortable with!

How about a soimate au wherein when one loses random items, and it ends up with their soulmate.. this goes on for a while and thats how they find each other!

Thank you so much <3<3

Hcs bc I'm so damn tired lol (why am I also picking lando?)

Yk that necklace lando wears

(I think it's for his sister, but I'm not too sure)

Well, for this, it's his soulmates

Like she went to bed wearing it

And he woke up wearing it

It was kind of terrifying, actually, he thought he was choking

Like with the chain against his neck

Realised he wasn't

Realised there was a necklace around his neck

See, it was weird because he lived alone

Security for his building had seen nothing

Leaving one explanation

She didn't notice when Landos hat turned up in her room

On top of her wardrobe

Literal months

She asked her best friend about it

Asked her boyfriend at the time

He was the one who saw Landos post about his lucky hat disappearing

(Yk he'd caption it something like 'rip lucky hat, thanks for the hard work in Miami')

He didn't put it together right away

Liked the post though, so it appeared on her feed

It just so happened that the lucky hat the f1 driver was missing was the same hat on the top of her wardrobe

She took a chance and messaged him a picture of the hat

Asking if that was the one he was missing

Months later he answered

And he hadn't stopped messaging her since

They must have known who they were to each other

But neither of them were ready to admit it

She was still with that boyfriend

Who lando didn't like

Not in the slightest

Once a day just 'he's bad news'

Even if they weren't soulmates, Lando wasn't going to like him

It definitely wasn't because he knew he could treat her better

They could have sent their stuff back to each other

She could have gotten her necklace back

And he could have gotten his lucky hat

But it was kind of nice

Knowing that one another had their most prized possessions

One day they'd meet

One day they'd give their things back

Or not

[amiaclone]

hiii, can I request a fluffy and angsty college au of jealous Semi(player 380) x reader like where the reader is younger than Semi and has a crush on her for a long time. However, Semi rejects the reader’s confession or like doesn’t care abt the reader bcoz of her popularity or for other reasons (you may choose). Then, the reader starts spending time with someone else, which makes Semi(player 380) jealous and prompts her to try to win the reader back. Thank you so much in advance, and I love your writing!!!

Thank you! I’ll try mixing the two a bit cause it sounds interesting

Tw: angst ig? And maybe some

Cursing

Se mi x gn! Reader

College au

You sighed in the hallway tugging your books

Should you do it? Should you tell *her*?

Se mi your first and only ever crush maybe you were delusional I mean she was only like two years older then you but still! You have a chance

You were friends with her…..to an extent I mean

She stared at you for more then three minutes that one time! There was hope maybe-

“You aren’t thinking about Se mi again are you?”

Your friend piped up walking towards you seeing your sighing they could swear they saw hearts in your eyes

“Shh! She might hear you!” *You hushed them down they laughed a bit in amusement*

“Y/n no offense or anything but you make it so obvious you stare at her all the time you stumble and stutter when she asks you simple questions you’re just….” *She looked at you up and down* “A mess.”

You rolled your eyes “Well no help from *you* I’m finally gonna confess to her!” *Their eyes widened a bit like they were just told the most unbelievable news then erupted into laughter* “Your humorous…y/n”

You rolled your eyes ready to give a glare then they punched your shoulder “I’m just messing I’m just glad you’re *finally* going for it how long has it been since you’ve liked her?” *You pondered in thought taking it seriously* “Eight years?” *F/n gave you a thumbs up* “Then why don’t you give her……eight roses, to show her how long you liked her?”

You smiled at the idea “Genius……what if she doesn’t accept?” *Your friend immediately covered your mouth* “Don’t you DARE start thinking about that stuff listen here y/n you’re gonna go up and confess…..when exactly?”

You shook her off “Ok ok! I’ll do it this afternoon where am I gonna get the roses?” *They gave you finger guns* “I’ve got you covered babe.”

Just as they said that the bells ringed signalling time for class i waved back with a knowing look and head to chemistry

Ahh chemistry

Se mi was in that class!

You headed in and there Se mi was leaning on her seat hanging around most of her friends

Well half were just people wanting to be her friend but honestly you couldn’t blame them Se mi was well…..there was a lot of things you could say about her

For one she was extremely pretty…..she was awesome at well everything even the stuff she was bad at and she was popular but not mean…

Lucky for you, you were seatmates! Which is why you’ve gotten somewhat close…..in your eyes anyway you often wonder what those pretty eyes of her see you as

The other students headed off to do there own business and the teacher was heading in soon so you smiled at Se mi and she smiled back

“Hey y/n what’s up?”

Your stomach fluttered with butterflies by her simply acknowledging your existence

“Hey Se mi you….busy later?”

She pondered in thought as if she was thinking deeply then she smirked

“Messing I’m not really do anything why, you need something?”

You felt nervous but you already went front you can’t go back “Can we meet at the backyard later? Yk….nothing bad or anything”

She twirled a bit of her hair

“Sure why not”

“Alright class!”

That sound cued you both to take your seats she winked at you and class begun

*Time skip to where you meet up with your friend*

Your heart began to race heavily time was getting nearer you really weren’t sure if you wanted to do this….

Your friend noticed your shaky behaviour and shook their head “Hey, you don’t have to do this….except you’re definitely gonna regret it if you back out now.”

You shook your head “I’m fine. I just…need some….did you get the roses?” *Your friend winked playfully and handed them out to you*

“Thank you” *You stared at the eight roses for how long you’ve liked her….wow you really have liked her too long huh*

“What time is it now?” *You spoke out of the blue your friend pondered in thought* “Some time between the afternoon definitely” *Panic began to erupt in you* “Shoot! I asked Se mi to meet up with me around this time I’ve gotta go!”

You ran out before your friend could even comprehend what happened

You reached the backyard of the school and Se mi…wasn’t there? That relieved you for a second….maybe it was early?

You realised your phone was in your pocket so you checked the time and it was……”3pm?”

You noticed Se mi walking with some of her friends and you instantly hid the roses behind your back while walking up to her

“Hey Se mi…could you excuse us for a bit?” *You tried to ask her friends nicely a load of them seemed confused or irritated but they shrugged off and walked off Se mi quirked an eyebrow*

“Um Se mi remember i asked you to meet up? It’s okay if you forgot! Was asking”

Se mi looked confused then realisation came upon her and laughed a bit

“Oh yeah i forgot about that….sorry about it can’t be that serious though like you said what is it?”

It honestly kinda hurt you even though you told her it didn’t when she said she forgot but whatever…..”Um well….” *You handed her the roses and she stopped staring at them* “I’ve liked you for…..eight years. I’m not good with romantic lines so….i just want you to know if you….perhaps feel the same way?”

Se mi then sighed thinking and pacing “Fuck y/n this is….kinda..you’ve liked me that long?” *You nodded almost shamefully* “This is….kinda awkward i…..I’m sorry but i…..you…I’ll be upfront cause i trust you but I don’t feel the same way”

If your heart could it would have shattered in the moment but you just stood there your brain was screaming with random things you couldn’t make out “Oh….” “I’m sorry…”

You forced a smile “No it’s okay we can still be friends i hope….right?”

She smiled back “Yeah I don’t let things like this get awkward with friendships welll see ya later…I hope you’re okay these roses are pretty though”

The two of you walked separate ways and just as she led the tears threatened to spill you felt like a fool a dummy a stalker all bad things and you couldn’t get them out of your head

You met up with your friend who was ready to cheer excitedly then noticed your gloomy behaviour

“Oh no babe….that happened I’m sorry-“ *The second you reached to her you began to sob uncontrollably. You felt like a crybaby that you couldn’t just take it well maybe then she would have liked you….*

Your friend walked you back to you and their dorm and gave you a bunch of blankets and tissues and whatever else you like

“I’ll…give you some time.”

You lied down in bed and processed everything i mean it’s not like she humiliated you or anything it’s just…….i mean what were you expecting honestly? “Now she probably thinks I’m a freak for liking her that long….” *You couldn’t help but say and think these things are true i mean what if they are?!*

Eventually you got worned out and passed in a blissful sleep

Eventually once you woke up you felt a sudden dread…..why?

Oh yeah your crush rejected you

And that you had to face her today

I mean you said it right? You don’t wanna make it awkward honestly you regret saying that maybe avoiding her was better….

You honestly didn’t know

*As you got up and brushed your teeth and hair and got ready your friend was tying their shoes and went up to you*

“Heyy y/n….you doing okay?”

*You simply stared at them and they got the hint were you supposed to be okay?*

“So…do you plan on talking to her?”

*You sighed*

“I mean I told her it was fine so….i don’t wanna make it awkward so i might as well try to act like I’m fine”

*Your friend stared in empathy*

“Well…I’m sure after this day you’ll be fine…it’s just a day right?”

You sighed and forced a small smile

“You’re right”

You headed out and even if people weren’t it felt like people were staring at you…is it anxiety is it real? You didn’t know and that made you even more scared….

Luckily one of your later classes were with se mi so you had all day to prepare to see her which you did

*Time skip to your second or third class*

It was time. You were gonna see Se mi

You took a breath and walked into class trying to seem as normal as possible and there was Se mi

Leaning on the chair just talking to her friends she noticed you and smiled like usual

“Hey y/n we were just talking about the teacher giving us an extra strict lecture….teachers sure are funny”

You force a smile you didn’t wanna make things awkward she didn’t deserve that

“Really? Wow they probably just want us to learn…”

Se mi snorted a bit and talked to you as if yesterday never happened….

It sorta relieved but upsetted you at the same time like wow it hit hard

She really doesn’t like you back. A truth you finally have it fully hit

After some time the teacher came in and you sat next to Se mi you’d normally be thrilled to be seatmates with her but right now? You don’t feel like you’re ready to face her….

*Another time skip I’ll just make it short*

The day was mainly just you trying to make se mi know or atleast think things were cool between you two eventually the day ended and you felt drained and you barely did anything

You layed down in bed thankfully tomorrow was a weekend most people would leave to visit families you planned on staying you can use this to relax all day

Eventually that day came by and well you were a mess

You groaned as your friend turned on the lights in your face

“Oh come on y/n that’s enough petting! It’s been two days you have to be strong now”

You only stared at her blankly

“Well what am i supposed to do? Get over it?”

You friend pondered like what if they were about to say was bad “Well you could you know get over it..”

You sighed “Well obviously I should but….i loved her….”

Your friend had a small pitied look

“Well…there’s plenty of people around I don’t know try making a new friend or something…”

You sighed then got up as if you suddenly got a burst of energy “Okay”

You got ready and headed out and went outside in the backyard and a student happened to be sitting on your usual spot

You mentally decided this was the perfect time to make a friend! Who knows maybe something else could happen….

“Hey this is my usual spot nobody usually goes around here….names y/n”

The person shot there head up “I don’t see your name on it.” *they smirk a bit jokingly*

You scoff smiling a bit “I basically claimed it please….you got a name?”

They smiled “I’ll let you guess starts with A ends with Z”

Se mi’s pov

Se mi just left her dorm ready to do whatever she wants in her free time

Her mind wandered to y/n oh y/n…..was interesting

Se mi wondered why she was so interested in being around them….they confused her in a good way

Like she felt like she missed something rejecting them and still wanted them around her? Usually if she rejected someone she’d atleast distance herself a bit for their sake

But for y/n? She wanted them around even more…..strange

Speaking of y/n wonder where they are anyway….might catch up a bit she was worried where they were yesterday

Just as she thought that while heading outside she saw y/n! And…..some person she’s never seen

She wouldn’t have been bothered if it seemed like the two or atleast the other person was…..flirting?

Wait why is she bothered! Y/n is free to do whatever they want!

But….eh whatever

She headed over anyways

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

The two turned to Se mi

Y/n laughed a bit “Uh hey Se mi this is….a new student”

“Hey! I just said I’ve been here awhile i just didn’t talk much to others”

Y/n rolled your eyes playfully Se mi quirked an eyebrow

“Well what classes are you in?”

She couldn’t help but question

“Clearly in none of yours” They laughed a bit”

Se mi tried not to frown she didn’t like this persons attitude

“Hey she asked you a question!” Y/n playfully giggled

Se mi tried to hold back whatever these feelings were “Hey so guys wanna hang out?” She mainly gestured it to y/n

Y/n nodded smiling while the other person shrugged giving a small smile

Oh boy

It’s been a week now and the two pair have gotten really close each time Se mi saw them her stomach twisted in a way she didn’t seem to get was she jealous? If so why? She rejected you why-

“Hey y/n” *Se mi approached them*

“Oh hey Se mi barely talked in awhile” *Y/n smiled while Se mi felt bad*

“Yeah it’s just that guy has…..what’s there name?”

“Won’t say it’s a joke of theirs!” *Y/n giggled a bit Se mis eye twitched*

“Yeah well have they ever said anything? Like about you know serious stuff just…….looking out for you”

Y/n quirked an eyebrow “Not sure it matters but there flirty a lot but I’m assuming their jokes most of the time..”

Se mi deadpanned you “most?”

Your pov again

Se mi kept on backing you into a corner asking you questions about you and him you had enough

“Okay Se mi you’re acting weird just why are you so bothered?!”

“Cause I like you!”

Your heart paused

Se mi seemed confused by the words she said then had a serious look

“Yeah i do and I’m sorry it took me a simple jealousy fit to figure it out…”

You didn’t know what to say was this a dream all you did was kiss her

“Will that help you figure it out?”

She nodded smiling “I’m sorry for whatever pain i put you through”

“Shut up! I’m still thinking whether if this is a dream or not”

Soo the ending is kinda rushed but i hope it’s worth it also happy late new years!

[roostersgirlfriendlovesf1]

i'll look after you | charles leclerc

prompt: everyone close to y/n is worried. she doesn't eat or drink enough and those are two extremely important things, especially this weekend. she will be racing in qatar at all time high temps. most worried is her best friend and teammate lando and secret boyfriend charles leclerc

warnings: discussions about not eating/ taking care of self, angst, fluff, cursing, injury, throwing up?, fear, fluff

No one expected Qatar to be so hot. Y/n stepped off of the plane, sweatshirt and sweatpants immediately causing her to sweat. She put her sunglasses on. “Who would’ve thought it would be this hot in the morning?” 

Her teammate Lando Norris responded, “Not me.” He pulled at the front of his black t-shirt. She wiped the sweat off of her forehead before climbing into a car.  “Hey.” He tugged on her sleeve to get her attention.

“Yeah?” She looked away from the window. 

“Are you alright?” He frowned. “You’ve just been off. You seem tired and-” He looked down at her figure, “have you been eating enough and drinking? If it's this hot on Sunday you’re gonna need to be fully nourished.”

“I’ve made the weigh-ins every weekend, so don’t worry, I’ll get us points.” She snapped.

“That's not why I’m worried.” He shook his head. “I want you to be alright.” 

The start of the weekend had been more peaceful than usual. Media had less sexist questions, the car felt good, and y/n had been more open to eating. She kept her head down as she went to her first meeting after FP3. She sat across from her trainer as he slid her a vegetable plate across the table. “Eat.”

“You’re wasting my time.” She glared at him. “I thought this was an actual meeting.”

“It is.” He nodded. “I need you to eat and drink as much as possible these next few days. This race is going to be so hot, you’ll lose a lot of water and a lot of weight. I know how serious you are about your racing and with your lap times these past three practices you have a good chance at qualifying front row.”

She sighed, staring down at an unappetizing plate. 

“Just take it to your driver's room with you and take a cold shower.” He pleaded.

“Okay. I will.” Y/n agreed. As she stood up her phone pinged. 

Charles: Come to my room?

                                                           Y/n: Sure.

She managed to subtly sneak herself into Ferrari hospitality and into Charles’ drivers room. “Hi.” She smiled shyly.

“Hi.” He hugged her before kissing her lightly on the cheek. 

“Lucky, you’ve gotten to shower.” She smelled his freshly washed hair, a comforting smell. She watched him as he glanced at the plate of food in her hand. 

“Let's eat.” He smiled, grabbing the plate from her and placing it on a table, ushering her to sit. 

“I’m not very hungry…” She breathed. “I would really love a shower though.” 

“We’ll shower after I see you eat a bit.” 

She took a bite of celery with hummus. Charles brushed a piece of her hair behind her hair, his movements so faint it tickled. He had convinced her to eat a few more vegetables before she decided it was time to wash herself off. He stood up with her, hand on her waist, ready to guide her to the bathroom. “Is it okay if I shower alone?” She whispered, touching his hand. “I’m just really tired and I need a cold shower and I know how you feel about those.”

Excuses to keep him away. “That’s fine.” He smiled. She smiled back at him, a hint of a sparkle. “Can we talk about something after you get out?”

“What is it?” Her smile flickered.

“M’just worried about you.” He cupped her face in his hands. “This is going to be a tough race.”

“Why are you acting like I can’t do it?” Y/n shook her head, feeling betrayed.

“It’s not that you can’t do it! It’s that you’re not taking care of yourself!”

“Whatever, Charles.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m going to shower and I hope you clear your head while I’m in there.” Y/n washed herself, feeling a relief as the cold droplets of water relieved her hot skin. Her head drooped as she tried not to fall asleep cleaning her face. She slowly pulled on a white blouse with jean shorts, easing them onto her achy limbs. She pulled her hair into a braid, knowing the heat outside would dry it within minutes. Charles had passed out on the couch, y/n tiptoed around looking for her shoes.

“Baby…” He mumbled, slowly waking up, “Where are you going?”

She placed a quick kiss on his lips. “I’ve got to go get some sleep before qualifying tomorrow.” 

He grabbed her waist before she could walk away. “I thought I was bringing you to the hotel.”

“Charles.” She tensed.

“What?” He sat up, offended.

“I’m stressed and the idea of us being seen together makes me even more stressed.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Charles’ brows furrowed.

“I didn’t mean it like that and you know it.” 

“Are you sure about that?” He frowned.

“I have to go. I love you and I’ll text you later.” She walked away, shooing off his insecurities. 

The next day, Y/n had made it to Q3 and was starting in third the next day. She was disappointed she didn’t make the front row, but shrugged it off. Lando had pulled her into a hug before she hit the media pin. “Congrats!” He rubbed a hand on her back.

“Thank you.” She hugged him back. 

“You’re very hot…” He moved his hand to her face. “Here, take the rest of my water.” He forced it into her hand, knowing she didn’t drink water enough throughout the day.

“Thanks.” She accepted it, immediately taking a sip. Lando's eyes widened, surprised at her immediate acceptance. She stood outside the media pin and chugged Lando's water, searching for a cooling feeling. She felt a cold towel brace her neck and groaned at the relief. She turned around to see who had applied it and watched as Charles winked before entering the media chaos, no hard feelings from the night before. She followed shortly after.

After an hour of answering cryptic questions, denying answers about her personal life, and bragging about her grid-place she was able to escape. Charles waited for her to get out of meetings and strolled next to her. “Can I come to your room tonight?” She asked.

“Trying to distract me from the fact you’re starting a place behind me?” He joked.

“Just nervous…” She fiddled with her rings. “And you always help with my nerves.”

“Of course you can come to my room, Y/n.” He affirmed. “Always.” A wave of relief flooded over him when he realized he could monitor her closely. 

Y/n walked down the hall to his room and knocked on the door. It was quickly opened and she was greeted with a kiss on the lips and a glass of water. “It’s freezing in here.” She shivered. 

“Sorry.” He wrapped a hand around her waist. “Y’know who I saw today?” He looked down at her.

“Who?” She held eye contact, his watercolor eyes gleaming. His eyes grounded her onto this earth. 

“I saw Daniel after qualifying.”

“How is he?”

“He thinks he might be given the opportunity to take over De Vries’ position at Alpha Tauri.”

Her eyes widened. “Jeez.”

“Yeah it’s rough.” He shook his head. The couple continued their chit chat as y/n slowly tucked herself into his bed. Charles sat on the other side of the bed, pulling out a carton of strawberries. “Here.” He gestured her to open her mouth and slowly fed her the fruit. 

“God, that's good.” Her eyes fluttered.

“You need to request some for your room next time.” He smiled. Her mouth formed a line as she delved deeper under the covers, turning the lamp on her nightstand off. She kept her eyes closed for a couple of minutes before feeling Charles’ arms wrap around her. She nuzzled her face into the nape of his neck. “I love you.” He mumbled.

“I love you too.” 

Y/n pulled on a Mclaren shirt and a pair of jeans. “Fuck.” Charles cursed. “What is it?” She folded her collar before checking on him.

“It’s going to be over 100 degrees in that car tonight.”

“It’ll be fine.” She shrugged.

“Do you know how hot that is?” His face was deadpan.

“I’ll figure it out.” She joked.

“No. You’ll drink water and you’re going to eat breakfast with me so I know you eat before the race.”

“Calm down.” She folded her sleeping shirt, breathily laughing.

“This isn’t a joke you could seriously get hurt.”

“Okay.” She played along with his seriousness.

Charles had watched her eat breakfast before they got to track and he had to say his goodbyes. They did their pre-race ritual together. She hugged him, racing suit tied at her waist, his tied the same way. “Be mindful today.” He whispered into her ear. “Be safe.” He reaffirmed.

“You too, Charlie.” She kept a hand in his hair. 

“I have to go.” He kissed her quickly. “I love you no matter what.

“I love you.” She tugged at his hand before letting him go. 

Y/n’s engineer came to see her in the car before the race started. “Drink. That's all I ask of you.” He fastened the bottle of water into the car. “If you begin to feel sick at all, radio us. It is going to be up to 120 degrees in that car, we are not going to blame you for any safe moves. We want you to be safe.” He gave her gloved hand a squeeze. She nodded, pulling her visor down.

She had a good start to the race, keeping her starting position. 10 laps in she called in.

“The visor is super foggy, guys. It’s sweaty in here!” She half-joked.

“Try to wipe it when possible.” Someone responded.

After 40 laps she was told to pit. 

“Pit.Pit.”

“Okay.” Her breath was shaky. “Yeah, the hard tyres wore out pretty quickly.” She tried straightening out her breathing patterns. Drink. She tried to will herself, but her body wouldn’t do it. It was too focused on other things.  She had dropped down to fourth place, behind Lance Stroll. “My seat feels like it’s on fire!”

“Do you need to retire?” Zak responded.

“No, just throw some water on me or something!” 

It was lap 56, two laps left and she had caught up to Lance. 

“He’s struggling on these corners.”

“Be careful around him.” Her engineer radioed. “Something must be wrong, he’s acting erratically.”

She was able to overtake him.

Lap 57. Last lap. Last turn. Y/n reached the final straight.

“P3, P3!” People cheered over the comms, but she swore it was muffled. Everything was blurry as she pulled into the space dedicated to 3rd. She noticed her lover's red car in 2nd and Max Verstappens in first. Charles took his helmet and balaclava off, shaking  the hand of Max. The commentator waiting for interviews began to grow concerned when the third driver had still not gotten out of her car. He whispered around and soon enough word got around to the drivers. She reached her hand up to grasp onto the halo, but fell short.

“Y/n.” Charles peered into the car.

“Yes?” She wheezed. “Just-Just give me a minute-to-get out…” She began to grab at the car again. Multiple stewards gathered around her, plus Max and Charles. Charles placed his hands underneath her arms and pulled her up. “I got sick in my helmet.” She coughed. 

“Shhh…” He took off her helmet quickly. A stretcher was brought to her. 

“I don’t want to leave.” She hiccuped. “I have a podium to cele-” She dry-heaved, nothing to throw up, “Celebrate.” 

“I’m so proud of you.” He pleaded with her to get her onto the stretcher. Her face turned ghost-white.

“I’m really scared.” She whimpered. “And-and I feel like I’m going to faint.” Charles placed his hand behind her head as her body went limp, heart breaking while paramedics attending to her vitals. It was a scene for sure. Blue and red lights from an ambulance blocked the screen below the podium, people from Mclaren that were preparing for a podium celebration were now freaking out for their driver, and Charles Leclerc seemed to be the most worried for someone who wasn’t even his teammate. Those who could only see in from the outside watched as he brushed her hair out of her face and kissed her forehead before composing himself. Love. 

“I’m going to come see you as soon as I can get out of here.” He assured her. “I’m sure everyone will.” Throughout the interviews and the celebrations Charles bit his tongue. He noticed the other worn out drivers. Lance had passed out on the corners towards the end of the race, Logan had to retire, Esteban got sick in his helmet, and the rest of the grid was laying on the floor with wet towels and gallons of water. This was just unsafe. He got away from the track as soon as possible, rushing to the hospital. “Y/n.” 

Tears filled her eyes as she saw him enter the room. “Charlie.” She dropped the strawberry in her hands. He rushed to her, quickly but carefully embracing her. The doctor came in, informing him that she was dehydrated and hadn’t had enough protein. She listened as Charles, the entire grid of drivers, and her trainer coached her on how important a meal plan is and how a meal is not something you can forget. That night Lando fell asleep on the couch and Charles held her as tight as he could.

[formulaisa]

So I saw you were taking requests for Franco and i thought I would share my idea!

How about Mexican reader where she is like a fan of formula 1 and goes to one of the gp (any of them). And like she is there minding her business in the paddock (like asking drivers for photos and autographs) and Franco sees her and is like 😍😍😍 immediately and when reader goes to ask for a photo he starts like actually interacting with her (more than the polite thank you for being a fan talk) and idk you can take over from there.

Don’t feel pressured to write this! I just think is a cute idea and definitely not self protecting

The Signature | Franco Colapinto

Summary: Growing up watching Formula 1 with your dad made you dream of attending a Grand Prix, but you never imagined your first paddock experience would lead to catching a certain Argentinian rookie's attention.

Warnings: some spanish (with translations)

Author's note: Sorry for the inactivity! I've been busy with my family for the holidays. If you have any feedback or suggestions, I'd really appreciate it. I hope you enjoy! <3

F1 Masterlist / homepage / main masterlist

You had always dreamed of attending a Grand Prix. Ever since your dad introduced you to Formula 1 at a young age, you were hooked. The roar of the engines, the speed, the energy of the crowd—it all fascinated you. But the problem was, you lived far away from any Grand Prix, and the costs for tickets, travel, and hotels made this dream seem impossible.

That all changed when you went to college in the US. You were awarded a generous scholarship to a school in Texas, conveniently close to the US Grand Prix. Juggling a waitressing job and school, you worked hard and finally saved enough money to attend a race. To top it off, you earned enough to afford a paddock pass. There was only one thing that could make this experience even better: having your dad with you. Though he couldn't be there, you had a plan to make it up to him. You'd bought him a blank hat and set out to get as many driver autographs as possible for him.

It was a scorching Saturday in Austin. Qualifying was starting in just a few hours, so you arrived early, hoping to catch some drivers for autographs and photos. The paddock was already buzzing with activity—mechanics wheeling tires, engineers huddled over laptops, and the occasional flash of a driver's race suit disappearing into a garage.

By now, you'd been surprisingly lucky. You'd gotten photos and signatures from three drivers: Carlos, Yuki, and Nico. Their signatures decorated the pristine white hat, each one making you imagine your dad's face lighting up when he saw it. But you wouldn't be truly satisfied until you got signatures from your two favorites: Checo and Lewis.

The Texas heat was beginning to wear you down. Your outfit, a cute dress and cowboy boots, looked stylish but weren't exactly built for the sweltering weather. Sweat beaded at your temples, and you could feel your hair starting to stick to the back of your neck. You stopped by a kiosk to grab a water bottle, then took a quieter shortcut back to the main paddock area, hoping to bump into a driver.

Just as you rounded the corner, you spotted him. It was hard not to. Franco Colapinto was strutting through the paddock in his navy blue Williams polo, his trademark smirk on full display. The young Argentinian driver had been making waves in his rookie season, his natural talent and charismatic personality quickly making him a fan favorite. Now was your chance.

Suddenly, a small lump filled your throat. It was a strange sensation, one you hadn't felt with any of the other drivers today. Your hands felt clammy, and your heart began to race. You found yourself nervous in a way that had nothing to do with meeting a Formula 1 driver and everything to do with meeting him.

"Umm, hi, Franco?" you asked, your voice hesitant. "Could I get a picture?"

He paused and turned around, pulling an AirPod from his ear. His dark eyes met yours, and his smirk softened into a genuine smile that made your stomach do a little flip. "Yeah, of course," he said, his Argentine accent adding a musical quality to his words.

You pulled out your phone and went to take a selfie. As you did, you noticed Franco adjusting his hair in the camera, running his fingers through the dark waves with practiced ease.

"Sorry, it's just so hot here," he explained quickly, before leaning in and flashing a smile for the photo. As you snapped the picture, you caught him glancing down at you, his eyes lingering for just a moment longer than necessary. The subtle cologne he wore mixed with the mechanical scents of the paddock, creating an oddly intoxicating combination.

"I know. I feel like I'm melting," you said, tucking your phone back into your purse. A bead of sweat rolled down your temple as if to emphasize your point.

Franco hesitated for a moment, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His eyes sparkled with interest as he asked, "¿Hablas español?" [Do you speak Spanish?]

"Sí, sí," you replied with a small smile, pleasantly surprised by the question. [Yes, yes.]

"¿De dónde eres?" he asked, his signature smirk returning. [Where are you from?]

"México," you said, "pero voy a la universidad aquí." Your voice grew more confident as you spoke in Spanish, and you noticed how Franco's posture relaxed, his shoulders dropping slightly as he leaned in to hear you better. [Mexico, but I go to college here.]

“I could tell from your accent,” He nodded, clearly interested, still not in a rush to leave. The bustling paddock seemed to fade into the background as he focused his attention entirely on you. He glanced around the paddock, then asked, "Are you here by yourself?"

You sighed lightly and nodded. "Yeah, it's just me." The admission made you feel suddenly vulnerable, but there was something comforting about the way Franco listened, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Paddock pass all for yourself, huh?" His voice carried no judgment, just genuine curiosity.

"I saved up all my tips from work," you said, absently playing with the lanyard around your neck. "I originally wanted to surprise my dad with tickets for his birthday, but I couldn't afford a flight and hotel from Mexico, so it didn't work out."

He looked at you with understanding, his expression softening. "Where do you work?" he asked, genuine curiosity evident in his voice.

You shrugged slightly, a little embarrassed. "Just some restaurant... I'm a waitress." The words felt small compared to his profession, but his interested expression never wavered.

"What's it called?" he asked, taking a small step closer.

"Trust me. You wouldn't want to go there," you replied with a self-deprecating laugh, knowing Franco wouldn't be interested in the casual, country bar you worked at.

"Still, I’m curious," he asked, the same flirtatious tone in his voice. “Besides, I’m more interested in the service.”

"It's called Buck Wild," you said with a small laugh, watching his expression for any sign of judgment. “It’s a very Texan country bar.”

"I think I'd learn to like it," he teased with a smirk that made your heart skip a beat. His eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, you noticed. “When do you work there?”

"Tuesdays and Fridays," you answered, still smiling, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach at his continued interest.

He nodded, clearly thinking. "I leave on Thursday..." he muttered to himself, his voice soft and thoughtful as he created a mental plan. The words hung in the air between you, heavy with possibility.

Your heart began to race, and a warm blush crept up your neck. The way he was looking at you, the casual tone of his voice, the fact that he was even asking about your work schedule—it all pointed to something more than just a typical chat with a fan. You found yourself hyper-aware of every detail: the way his polo shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, how he kept shifting slightly closer to you, the warmth in his dark eyes.

Then, reality crashed back in as you remembered why you had actually approached him. The hat for your dad was still tucked away in your bag.

"I-I know you probably have to go soon, but before you leave, could you sign this for me?" you asked, pulling the hat out of your bag. Your fingers trembled slightly as you handed it to him.

He smiled warmly and took the sharpie and hat from you, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief moment. "Wow, you've got quite a few signatures already, huh?" He examined the other drivers' signatures with interest.

Franco signed the hat, moving slowly, almost like he was savoring the moment, stretching out the conversation. His signature was deliberate and careful, unlike the rushed autographs you'd seen him give to other fans earlier.

You smiled and explained, "I'm trying to get Lewis and Checo too. They're my dad's favorite drivers." Your voice softened when you mentioned your father, and Franco seemed to notice.

"Ah, Good taste," he said, nodding. Then, his expression shifted slightly. He glanced at the hat, pausing. A look of realization and minor panic appears on his face. 

“Wait,” he gestures to the hat “This isn’t for you?” 

“No, it’s a gift for my dad,” you explain “Why?” 

You look down at the hat in his hands and see his scrawled out signature. Underneath you see something else he had started to write. “+54 2322…” 

Your eyes widened as you realized what he'd done. "Joder," he muttered under his breath, quickly scribbling over the numbers, a faint blush creeping up his neck. Despite his embarrassment, you noticed he didn't step away.

You couldn't help but laugh softly, a warm smile spreading across your face as you looked up at him. The moment felt surreal—here was Franco Colapinto, Formula 1 driver, getting flustered while trying to give you his phone number on what he thought was your hat.

"I can just give you mine," you said shyly, still flustered but charmed by his awkward attempt.

Franco pulled out his phone, opened a new contact, and handed it to you. His phone was warm from being in his pocket, and you noticed his lock screen was a picture of his dog. Just as you were typing in your name and number, his phone buzzed with a message: 'Where are you, mate? Meeting started ten minutes ago.'

Franco's eyes widened with panic, and you could tell he was starting to realize just how much time he'd spent talking to you instead of attending his meeting. The easy conversation had made you both lose track of time completely. You handed him back his phone, but before you could say anything, he quickly added, "Let me give you my number too."

You began fumbling through your purse for your phone, your fingers clumsy with nervous energy, but before you could find it, you were interrupted by a loud voice from the Williams garage.

"Franco! Stop flirting and get over here. You're late, and James is pissed!" the mechanic yelled, his voice cutting through the paddock's ambient noise.

Franco looked over, frustration and guilt crossing his face in quick succession. "Sorry," he muttered to you, grabbing the sharpie back from your hand and hastily scribbling his number on your arm. His touch was gentle despite his hurry, and you felt goosebumps rise on your skin.

Before you could even react, he gently handed you back the sharpie. "I'll see you around..." he said with a wink and a grin, before turning and jogging off toward the Williams garage. You watched him go, admiring how he somehow managed to make even a rushed exit look graceful.

You stood there for a moment, your heart racing, the cool sharpie mark on your arm tingling where his fingers had just been. The numbers were slightly smudged but still legible, and you couldn't help but trace them with your finger.  You smiled to yourself, looking forward to the next time you'd see him and happy with the most special signature you’d gotten that day.

✩₊˚.⋆ all work belongs to formulaisa. please don’t modify, translate, or share my writing, and don’t feed it to AI.

[shojizbae]

Mothers Day

Spencer Reid x Reader

As the newest member of the team, everyone is shocked by your boldness.

Everyone knew not to trespass when Las Vegas or Mental illness was a factor in the case. Everyone but you, apparently. By chance, the team's last case to Vegas was two months before your hire. Now, you were making very dangerous strides around a very delicate subject. The Unsub was suspected to be a man on a psychotic break and had begun devolving before the team had even been called in. Ever the overtly ambitious profiler you wanted to follow Spencer Reid for his ultra-secret contact.

"He prefers to go alone." My eyes met the dark brown hand on my bicep

"We really shouldn't be going places alone. You know the FBI minted the buddy system?" I shook him off

"I know, baby girl, but this is delicate. You just gotta leave it alone."

"Derek, you, of all people, should be aware of my incessant control problems."

"I have to agree with Morgan. This is something you need to let be."

"But you know I can't. Doctor Reid!" I darted off after him. He was tense, like the way people get when they hear a tornado siren and have to put themselves in their basement or put a mattress over their bathtub. He was preparing for disaster. "I truly believe it would be beneficial if I were to go with you."

"Would it be benefitting the case or your psyche?" He prods

"Well, both and neither." I readjust my little rectangular glasses, "As you know, I'm extraneously protective, to a fault. Also, I am working on my doctorate in psychology and I'm writing a dissertation on noncommutative disorder clusters. And I'm comfortable around disorders. Actually, I find it strange that when we talk about OCD, we call it a 'disorder' when people just like things organized in a particular manner." I snort to punctuate my rambling, but he only grits his jaw. "Aw man, that joke usually kills in my schizoid heredity focus group." He sighs as he tugs his satchel on.

"You need to stay quiet and low profile." He orders, and I know my dorky smile splits my face. He leads me to a big black SUV, where I take the driver's seat. He gives me directions, leading me from the way through town street and down some scary back roads. Eventually, we pass a sign that reads Bennington Sanitarium. He tells me to turn left, and we park in the back of the parking lot. He tells me to leave my gun in the car, and I follow him with my head down.

"So, who's this ultra-secret contact you have?" His stress seemed to triple, "Some fancy professor from Caltech?" He's being intentionally nebulous, I'm aware but there's some fun in playing nosy-cop.

"No, it's not someone who worked at Caltech."

"Oh, but a professor? Where'd they work, Burkley? Or maybe some school in Vegas. Let's see, there are not that many high-profile universities in Vegas."

"No, she hasn't worked in years." His voice sharpens in frustration, so I back down, readjusting my glasses, and licking the corner of my lips. We enter and a receptionist recognizes Spencer immediately with a big smile.

"Dr. Reid how lovely to see you. Have you come to visit your mother? She'll be ecstatic. It's been far too long." Oh, like mother like son. She must be a psychiatrist. I smile softly at the notion. It will be so interesting to see who and where Spencer came from.

"Thank you, Sheryl, how has she been."

"Well, she has her day, but mostly, she just reads. You know the book club started a new series." Sherly playfully brushes his arm and giggles.

"That's good."

"She should have just gotten out of therapy." Sheryl smiles and rakes her eyes over the young doctor. Finally, she makes eye contact with me.

"Oh well, you're new," she cheers in a vaguely Midwestern accent. You'll need a visitor's pass, hon." She gets one from a drawer and hands it to me. "So, do you work at the FBI, too, or are you coming to meet the in-laws?"

"I'm an agent," I laugh. If I were lucky enough to snag him, that would be an HR nightmare." Playfully, I pat his chest. He guffaws dryly as I slide the plastic lanyard around my neck.

Spencer leads me through the building, mostly there are elderly people playing chess or using oil pastels as nurses and orderlies orbit them. He leads me through a large living room past an Asian woman knitting. We find a woman with blonde hair biting her nails on the couch as she ponders something.

"Hi, Mom," He warbles. There's an extra beat between his greeting and her response. It's like she snaps out of a trance when she sees her son.

"Spencer, honey, what are you doing here?"

"Me and my frie-"

"Oh my goodness, thank whatever deities you deny the existence of; you're finally giving me some grandchildren."

"No, Mom, this is my coworker Agent (L/n). She and I just have some questions for you regarding our case."

"Well, at least sit down." She pats the space next to her, and Spencer obeys, "You too, young lady."

"Yes, ma'am." I take the only spot right next to him, and Spencer begins rattling off questions while his mom sits there with her hand under her nose. She sits and observes Spencer like no one at the BAU does. When he finishes contextualizing the case with her she stews on every word like his voice is her favorite song.

"So our first question for you is, uh (Y/n), you might be better at asking." He makes the wringing motion of cracking his knuckles, but no sound comes out.

"Um, mostly, the bureau is interested in the capabilities of delusion to overlap reality. When you are having an episode, do you recognize the difference between your actions and your perceptions?" I retrieve a legal pad and a fountain pen and click it theatrically. Diana keeps her hand over her mouth and inhales longingly through her nose. She points at me but doesn't look at me.

"You're a very smart young woman," She locks her eyes on me, "I'll answer your questions if you answer mine."

"Of course, wagers are the drug of choice in Vegas, well that and alcohol and mostly any other drug you can think of." I correct myself

"God, you're so much like him." She looks to her son."Why aren't you dating my Spencer?"

"Uh," is all that dumbly spills from my mouth.

"You two seem perfectly suitable for each other. Is it because he's so skinny?"

"No,"

"Well, he's incredibly handsome and talented; even a pigeon could see he's intelligent beyond a lexicon." She rambles

"Mom, I think that's enough."

"Spencer, you haven't visited me in over a year, and how do you believe that's any way to speak to your mother." She reprimands me. Had the information not shocked me, I would have giggled.

"Spencer, over a year?!" I swat his arm, "You've had time off. Why wouldn't you come to visit?"

"Oh well, I've still gotten my daily letters," she pouts. But it's been too long, and I'm getting old." She begins to bat her eyelashes, and she holds onto his arm.

"I'm trying, Mom," he whined

"To visit or to get me some grandkids?" she sasses

"Mom," He groaned, and I couldn't help the giggle that escaped my lips.

"What about you, young lady? Do you have any kids??"

"No, ma'am."

"Why not?" I could see where Spencer gets his tunnel thinking.

"My career has made it difficult to go out on dates and fall in love," I admitted it was almost like Diana could extract the truth from me

"Well, then, date my Spencer."

"Mom!" he protested

"Shh! It's a win-win: I get grandbabies, you get dates, and neither of your careers gets in the way." I meant to retaliate, but her infallible logic knocked all the fire out of me.

"Let's finish up this interview and solve this case then we can circle back." I mitigated

Two days later, the case was solved, and we were riding the jet back to Virginia. Everyone had filed off the plane but Spencer and I.

"So, do you have any plans tonight?" It threw me further off guard than Diana.

"I was just gonna turn on Real Housewives reruns and cuddle cannoli." It was how I spent most nights.

"Would you object to a date?"

"Tonight?"

"We could watch the Real Housewives and hang out with your cat??"

"You want to do that?"

"It sounds much better than sweating in an overpriced Italian restaurant." He laughs and rings his knuckles

"it does, I think I have NBC, we could watch Star Trek after." I offer as we walk from the landing strip to the BAU. We made a sojourn at his home so he could shower and put on comfortable clothes. Two years later it would be cannoli to ring bear your wedding. Spencer would have to credit his mother who walked you both down the aisle simultaneously for your relationship and the whole team would have to agree.

[liahaslosthermind]

~ 𝐀 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 ~

Mentions of Rhysand x OC (Adelaide), Eventual Azriel x OC Part 1 of Betrayal Summary: She would have chosen him over her mate every time, so why couldn’t he do the same for her?

Warnings: Hurt/No Comfort, Death, Cheating, Betrayal

It hurt.

It hurt so much.

Not physically, she couldn't feel her body anymore, but emotionally.

Encircled by a pool of her own blood, watching the man she had devoted her life to collapse to his knees in front of his mate's body, leaving his lover alone to watch.

Feyre would be okay, Adelaide knew that much, and deep down so did Rhysand. But as the feeling of incoming doom fell upon her, she knew she wouldn't be so lucky.

He didn’t seem to care much for her at that moment though.

It was inevitable that Rhysand would one day have to choose between the girl he had loved for most of his existence or the mate he had just hardly gotten to know, but Adelaide didn’t think it would be so soon, or that Rhys would pick Feyre. They were chosen by The Mother to share a special type of bond, she knew that. She also knew she envied Feyre, she was stronger, had much more of a back bone, and mated to the love of her life.

When he had first mentioned meeting his mate, Adelaide had practically brushed it off. She was so sure she had no reason to worry, over 300 years together couldn't be thrown away by a young, human girl.

The moment Feyre's shoe hit her lover, though, thats when she began to sweat.

Had Adelaide been able to, had blood not started to pool in her mouth, she would have laughed.

While they had known there was no mating bonds between them, Rhysand and Adelaide had vowed to never think twice about their mates. When Adelaide met her mate many years ago, Rhysand hadn't given her the opportunity or chance of choosing between the two. Not even a week after the bond had snapped, her mate was found dead in his bed.

She still knew she would have picked Rhys every time, but apparently the feeling wasn’t mutual. 

So there she was, laying in a puddle of her own blood, watching her long time partner nurture his shaken up, but still perfectly healthy, mate he had told Adelaide not to worry about. 

“Are you alright? What can I do?” He asked Feyre as he caressed her arm, checking her over, and then checking again.

“I’m fine. I just need a moment.” Feyre responded. Rhys was so concerned about her even though she would be walking away with a mere flesh wound and a few sleepless nights at most. Adelaide tried to call out but only the sound she produced was from choking on her own blood. Rhysand didn’t turn around, instead holding his mate closer.

But finally, after an eternity alone on the cold floor, she felt someone grab her hand.

Azriel had crawled over to his best friend the moment he saw she had hit the ground. The faebane in his system from a few nasty slashes making it impossible to do more than that.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. After years of a strong friendship the two could communicate through their eyes alone. He looked concerned and pale. She couldn't tell how hurt he was, her eyes hardly letting her see his blurry face.

He sat up as well as he could, bringing her close to him, and began holding her cheak as he tried to sooth her.

Or maybe he was trying to sooth himself. He was the damned Shadowsinger, the spy master, he had always been annoyingly perceptive. No matter how hard he denied it, he knew she wasn't walking away from this.

Tears streaming down his face as he held in his sobs. Such a strange sight to most, he never let anyone see him cry, except the girl that laid dying in his lap.

“It’s okay Az. I will be okay.” She said ad well as she could with the prominent taste of iron in her mouth. He could almost laugh, even in her last moments she put Azriel first.

“You know thats not true.” He said as he glimpsed up to look at Rhysand, pure hatred in his eyes for what his brother was doing at moment, and for what he was not doing.

Just as he went to call his name,

“Don’t. He is happy, it was bound to happen.”

“Not like this, he wasn’t supposed to pick her. He promised he wouldn’t. I’m sorry.” Azriel couldn't tell whether it was anger or early onset grief that was making him shake in this moment.

Adelaide remembered that. After a fight with Rhysand about being too busy training Feyre to spend time with her, and after running to Azriel in tears, he yelled at Rhysand for his actions, made him promise to stay away from Feyre. The conversation was not unlike another the two had had before regarding Feyre's sister, Elain, and Azriel's intentions. Azriel made him promise to put Adelaide first, always. And Rhys had agreed, but apparently that promise had an expiration date.

“I know, but it's not your fault Az, don’t believe it is.”

“He should be here with you right now. Not me. If I fought him harder on this maybe he would have changed his-”

“Let him live his life with regret that he wasn’t with me in the end. Cause now that I know who he would truly pick, there is no one else I'd rather have next to me than you, Azriel.”

That silenced him.

He watched as she started to slip away, felt helpless as all he could do was hug her tighter.

With one whispered ‘thank you’ she drifted off, embracing whatever death had planned for her.

Her last thought was that she hoped he knew she wasn't just thanking him for that moment, but 400 years of companionship, of heartfelt conversations, of stupid fights, of full fledged loyalty, of love.

A cry broke out as Azriel looked at her now limp body. Concerned, Rhysand took his attention off Feyre, to his brother and what was causing his wails, fearing the worst, that he was hurt.

Dread filled Rhysand, he couldn't handle dealing with another wounded member of his family. But the image of a crying Azriel, a rare sight indeed, holding his lover's lifeless body, stole all the air from his lungs. 

Azriel looked at his High Lord and through his tears spoke with so much pain and hatred in his voice, Rhysand believed that physical torture would have been easier to endure. 

“You didn’t even look back. You didn’t even check on her.” Azriel cried out, holding his best friend even closer as Rhysand made his way over on shaky feet. 

Az yelled a broken ‘No’ when his High Lord got too close. He didn’t get this, he didn’t get to hold her after she had spent her last moments watching him hold another woman. So he didn’t. Azriel, still holding onto her body, disappeared into the shadows before his brother could try anything.

As Rhysand fell to his knees in all consuming grief for who he lost and guilt for not being there, he felt even more shame at the way his body reacted to the warm touch Feyre provided, and at the breath he let out when he was reminded his mate was still alright.

[fanfictionstuff]

Medicine seller smut please <3

Here it is. Finally. I guess. Lmao

Medicine seller from the 2024 movie.

“Marriage?” You sit respectfully across from your parents, your eyes wide in disbelief at their words. “You want me to get married?” In this moment, you feel dwarfed by their presence, even though you are all sitting in the same manner, legs tucked beneath you. It’s as if you’re standing before two imposing figures. Your father averts his gaze, unwilling to look in your eyes. “______,” your mother begins, noticing that your father won’t carry on with the conversation. “There have been rumors about you and a peddler. Of course, we know they aren’t true, but it’s starting to tarnish our family’s reputation.”

“Peddler?”

She nods. “Yes, he’s an odd man with peculiar clothing; some even say he’s a demon. Do you know who I’m referring to?"

A medicine seller with golden eyes flashes through your mind. “I don’t.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way; we’ll announce your marriage by the end of the month.”

“And who will the groom be?”

Your mother furrows her brow. “We haven’t gotten that far yet,” she admits. “Just follow our lead; we’ll announce that you are engaged to be married. Once that peddler leaves, we can figure out the rest.”

The answer takes you by surprise. "Once the peddler is gone, what does he have to do with anything? Do you really expect me to be engaged to someone?”

Your parents turn to look at each other, a bit thrown off by your question. You weren’t supposed to catch that. Your mother whispers your father’s name, but he looks just as confused about what to say. “Mom, Dad, what are you doing?”

“The peddler needs to know you aren’t available.”

“Huh?”

“Please, just trust me,” your mother implores. “If you encounter a peddler dressed in peculiar clothing carrying a large box, tell him you’re engaged to be married.”

You raise an eyebrow. "Alright, here’s an idea: there’s no need for an announcement. I don’t even know who you’re referring to. A peddler? So he won’t be around much longer? Describe what he looks like, and I’ll make sure to steer clear of him. Do you really want me to get married?” 

“We’ve actually chosen a few different men you could look into…”

 ———————————

“He wears an odd bright kimono and carries a large box on his back.”

After having dinner with your parents, you decide to leave the house. It’s getting late, and more intoxicated individuals are beginning to appear on the streets, with the worst of them already stumbling about. They’ve likely been drinking since they woke up this morning. You ignore them; they are relatively harmless at this time. Your eyes travel across the various shops, where young women beam at passersby, trying to allure potential customers. You give a wave of disinterest when one of them tries to catch your attention. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice an oddly dressed figure carrying a large box.

“He has strange light blue hair with pink tips. Around this long.”

You pivot to catch a better view of the man, but his light blue and pink hair obscures his face as he strides past you. He veers into an alley that leads to the riverbank. You follow. He walks towards a large tree, where he drops the box on his back before turning to face you.

“He has an extremely pale complexion with unusual blue and red markings on his face.”

Your mother described him quite well, but she overlooked one detail—the one that struck you most when you first laid eyes on him. His golden eyes lock onto yours. “You shouldn’t be out so late, Miss ______.”

“I’m engaged.”

“Oh?”

You nod. “Yes, I’m supposed to say this if I ever meet you. There have been rumors about us, and I need to clarify that if we do meet, I’m engaged.”

“Interesting, and who is the lucky man?”

“That’s yet to be decided.”

The man across from you smirks. "So, it’s still undecided? Does that mean there’s a chance I could be a possibility?”

“My parents want you to lose interest. If you learn I’m engaged, you'll move on without causing any trouble. Is it working?”

Kusuriuri shakes his head. “Unfortunately for your parents, it’s too late for that; there’s no losing interest in you now."

"You're quite persistent, aren't you?" you tease playfully, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you engage in banter with Kusuriuri. His smirk broadens as he steps closer to you, the moonlight casting an ethereal glow around him. It’s difficult to resist the allure of his mysterious demeanor and captivating presence, even as you attempt to keep a semblance of distance. “A woman of my stature certainly has no difficulty moving on from a mere medicine peddler like you," you quip, attempting to conceal the fondness that lingers in your tone. 

His golden eyes glimmer with mischief as he leans in closer, his warm breath brushing against your skin. "Ah, but it seems you cannot resist the allure of a humble medicine peddler like me," he says, his voice low and teasing.

You raise a brow. “Did you use a love potion on me? Otherwise, it doesn’t make sense, right?” 

He chuckles softly. "It seems so. A woman of your intellect and grace falling for a humble medicine peddler like me—surely, it's the result of a love potion." He gently cups your cheek, drawing you in for a tender kiss.

As he pulls away, the mischievous glint in his golden eyes shifts into something more tender. "But jokes aside, my dear ______, do you want to move on from me?"

You reach up to gently trace the intricate markings on his face. “Never.”

“I can’t provide you with the lavish life you’re accustomed to,” he admits. On the night he met you, he hadn’t expected someone like you to take an interest in him; usually, someone of your stature wouldn’t engage with someone like him. Then, just a few nights later, he believed it would be a one-time encounter, that he would only get to be that close to you once. He thought he’d leave and never find himself in your bed again. 

You draw him into another kiss, taking charge as your tongue glides along his bottom lip. A smirk crosses his face at your boldness, and he parts his lips for you. As you navigate mouth, he encourages you to deepen the kiss. “Will you marry me?” you whisper as you pull away. “I can tell my parents I’m engaged.” 

Kusuriuri pulls back, his golden eyes wide with surprise. “Are you asking me because you truly want to be with me or because you want to avoid an arranged marriage?” 

“Can it be both?” You wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him closer. “I may have initially decided to get to know you out of curiosity or boredom, but the connection we have... can't you feel it, too?” 

He sighs deeply, leaning into your touch. “I can feel it, ______,” he admits. “But an engagement... marriage?” He hesitates for a moment before adding. “I’m not sure if it’s commitment you’re ready to make.” 

You pause for a moment, looking down at your intertwined hands. “But I’ve thought it through, and I’m sure about this. You’re the one I want to be with. You know, all my friends who’ve married tell me of their lives with their husbands. It sounds awful. Their husbands show them no respect and take on many lovers. They’re left unsatisfied in many ways.” 

You watch as Kusuriuri considers your words, his gaze thoughtful as he looks out over the riverbank. You can see so much in his eyes—years of wisdom and experience, but also a hint of vulnerability. Seeing him like this is strange, with his guard lowered and his emotions laid bare. But it also makes your heart flutter, because it means he's letting you in. 

“Alright,” he finally says, turning back to look at you. His golden eyes are warm and sincere, and the sight of it sends a shiver down your spine. 

"Really?" Your heart pounds in your chest as you wait for his confirmation. 

"Yes," he assures you, his voice soft yet firm. "If you truly wish to stay by my side and can accept a new lifestyle." 

You launch yourself at him then, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a tight embrace. He stumbles slightly but quickly regains his footing, wrapping a strong arm around your waist to keep you steady. 

"I love you," you whisper against his ear. 

“I love you too.” 

—————--------------------------------------

You grin, nearly bouncing in your seat as you stare at your parents. You aren’t sure how they’ll take it, but you’re excited and if they don’t agree, you’ll leave either way. “So, you know how you want me to be engaged? Right? I found a fiance.” 

Both your mother and father blink in confusion, your father using your nickname. “We weren’t really expecting you to go out and find a fiance, you weirdo.” 

Your mother groans, covering her face. “How do you already have a fiance? You aren’t even dating anyone. You can not find someone to marry within twenty-four hours.”

“Right, we’ve been together for months.” It’s true. He’d leave to exorcise Mononoke but always returns to you. “When you mentioned getting married, he was the first person who popped into my mind, and I couldn’t picture myself with anyone else.” You admit.

“Months?” They both yell in disbelief. 

“…yeah.” 

Your mother stares at you as if you have two heads. “Who is he? I want to meet him.” 

“Right, he’s in the next room. I’ll get him.”

Quickly, you open the spare bedroom, grabbing Kusururi by the hand and pulling him into the living room where your parents are waiting. 

As the eccentric man stands before them, your mother’s mouth drops in surprise, while your father stares wide-eyed, confusion filling his features as he looks between the two of you. “I’m sorry," he laughs at the irony before pointing at Kusuriuri. "We mentioned that you should say you’re engaged to avoid the medicine seller, yet he’s the fiancé you brought to us. How did this happen?”

Your mom nods and says, “We wanted you to tell him you’re engaged because we thought he might be bothering you; we heard he’s been watching you.” 

You glance from your parents to Kusuriuri and back again. “So, it’s okay if I marry him?” 

Your dad answers. “No.” 

“Huh?”

“Can you provide for ______? Say you can provide for _____ and yourself. What about children?” 

“Dad, nobody has mentioned children.” 

“Well, if you’re getting married, you better mention it. You want kids, does he? Can he provide for a family?” 

Kusuriuri, who had been silent throughout the conversation, finally speaks up.

"I can assure you," he says, his gaze meeting your father's, "I would do everything in my power to provide for ______ and any children we may have. I may not have a traditional occupation or guarantee of a consistent income, but I am resourceful and skilled at what I do."

"And what exactly do you do?" your mother asked, her tone filled with suspicion.

"I am a medicine seller by trade," he answers respectfully. 

Kusuriuri maintains his calm demeanor, meeting your father's gaze without hesitation. "I assure you, my trade is not as simple or mundane as it sounds. I deal with more than just mere pills and ointments. I provide remedies for ailments that common medicine cannot touch."

"And how do you propose to support a family with such an inconsistent income?" Your mother interjects, her tone laced with skepticism.

"I have managed to sustain myself thus far," Kusuriuri replies coolly, "and I have every intention of securing a stable future for ______ and our possible children. You have my word."

Your dad shakes his head. “Sustaining yourself is completely different than a wife and kids. Women are more complicated than men; they need more than we do, plus when children come.”

Kusuriuri nods at your father's words, understanding the gravitas of the situation. "I am not naive to the responsibilities that come with a wife and children. I understand they will require more than my current lifestyle can provide. I am prepared to make adjustments as necessary for our future family." 

Your mother lifts a hand, tapping her fingers against her lips as she eyes Kusuriuri critically. "What are these 'adjustments' you speak of?" 

Kusuriuri, unflustered by the scrutiny, responds confidently. "Whatever is required of me. The specifics can be determined as we move forward, whether it means expanding my trade, taking on additional work, or finding new ways to secure income." 

"But how?" your father persists. "You're a wanderer, aren't you? You move from town to town, selling your wares. It's no life for a wife or children."

"Perhaps," Kusuriuri concedes, "but there are many ways to provide for a family beyond mere physical sustenance. Emotional support, care, love – these are all things I can provide in abundance."

"And yet they don't put food on the table," your mother points out.

"No, they do not," Kusuriuri agrees. "But my trade is more lucrative than you might think. I have been able to save a considerable sum over the years."

Your parents exchange a look, their expressions still wary and doubtful. "And what about a place to live?" Your mother asks, her voice softening slightly.

"That is something we can discuss," Kusuriuri replies smoothly. "I have no qualms with settling down in one town if it means providing stability for my family."

There is a moment of silence as your parents mull over Kusuriuri's words. You can see the conflict in their eyes – on one hand, they want to protect you and ensure your future is secure. On the other hand, they can see the genuine sincerity in Kusuriuri's words and his determination to make things work.

Finally, your father lets out a sigh. "I suppose we will trust your judgment, _____." He turns to Kusuriuri and nods. "We will give our blessing for this marriage on one condition – that you both have a solid plan for the future."

Kusuriuri bows deeply in gratitude. "Thank you. I assure you, I will not disappoint."

——————————————————-

You’re sitting with Kusuriuri in your bedroom as he goes through different items in his box. “I’m surprised they accepted you.” 

“They still haven't accepted me. I need to prove that I can provide for you and any future children.” He reminds you as he stands up. “Also, there’s the fact that we can’t settle in one place.” 

“We can make it work. Do you really want children?”

“Maybe. Do you?” 

You frown and pull him closer to you. “Don’t throw an important question like that back at me, I asked you first. But if you don’t want children, that’s fine, you've been providing the best for me in every way that truly matters.” You grin, pulling him into a kiss. “Apparently, including sex.” You comment, thinking back to a recent conversation with some friends.

Kusururi smirks. “Well, I am the only person you’ve been intimate with.” You nod in agreement. “True, but I've heard my friends complain about their experiences. It’s awful for them. They just lay there, and it’s over; they get nothing from it. I'm lucky to have found someone who values my satisfaction.” 

Kusuriuri raises an inquisitive brow at your admittance, a playful smirk playing on his exotic lips. "Is that so?" he muses, sliding closer to you on the bedsheets. His golden eyes, a striking contrast against his pale skin, shine with interest. "Then I would hate to disappoint." 

His fingers ghost over your clothed form, tracing patterns akin to the vibrant designs on his own kimono. A tingle of anticipation courses through you as Kusuriuri's touch slowly undoes the ties of your clothing, revealing the skin beneath, before removing the clothing altogether.

Your breath hitches as Kusuriuri leans down, his mouth mere inches away from yours. But instead of claiming your lips for a passionate kiss like you expect him to, he instead presses soft kisses along your jawline and down your neck. 

A gasp escapes your lips at the unexpected intimacy of his actions. You reach out blindly for something to hold onto, finding purchase in the material of Kusuriuri's kimono. Your fingers clench reflexively around the fabric as his lips and tongue continue their tantalizing journey down your body. 

Kusuriuri maintains eye contact, his golden gaze searching yours for signs of discomfort or displeasure. When he finds none, he continues his descent, his long hair brushing against your skin in a way that sends shivers down your spine.

The world around you seems to fade away, leaving only the sensation of Kusuriuri’s mouth on your skin. His touch is as tender as it is skilled, a testament to his desire to please you. You can’t help but let out a sigh of contentment, lost in the pleasure he is providing. 

Eventually, Kusuriuri reaches the apex of your thighs, looking up at you with an air of mischief in his eyes. He doesn’t rush into this next act, instead taking time to appreciate every inch of you with his hands and mouth. His careful attention leaves you aching with desire, your hips rising off the bed in an unspoken plea for more. He chuckles lowly at your response, but he doesn't tease you with denial; he knows when to play and when to satisfy. 

He dips his head down, mouth meeting the warm center of your body. The sensation of his tongue against your sensitive flesh sends a jolt of pleasure through you, making you gasp and arch your back off the bed. Kusuriuri presses a hand to your hipbone to steady you, his other one continuing its journey on your bare skin, keeping you grounded as he explores you further. 

His movements are deliberate and calculated - a testament to his observant nature. He knows how to read you, how to interpret the signs your body gives him. Every twitch of your muscles, every hitch in your breathing... he takes note of them all and adjusts his actions accordingly. 

You can feel the coil of heat in your lower abdomen tightening with every stroke of his tongue, every press of his fingers. It's a slow build, but Kusuriuri is patient. He knows the value of taking his time, of making you feel every sensation in its fullest intensity. His focus never wavers, those vibrant eyes of his intently watching your reactions as he continues to bring you pleasure. 

His name falls from your lips in a breathless plea, the sound echoing around the room. It’s a call to which Kusuriuri responds with a hum of acknowledgment against your sensitive skin, the vibrations sending another wave of pleasure through you. He increases his pace ever so slightly, enough to make you gasp and dig your fingers into the sheets beneath you. 

The world narrows down to the feeling of Kusuriuri's mouth on you, his tongue methodically working circles that have you writhing beneath him. He slides his free hand down to push two fingers into you as he focuses on your clit with his mouth.

The sudden feeling of his fingers inside you evokes a strangled moan from your lips. Kusuriuri’s eyes flicker up to meet yours, drinking in the sight of your flushed cheeks and lust-glazed eyes with an inscrutable look. He lets out another low chuckle, the sound rumbling against your skin and sending shivers down your spine.

Your senses are overwhelmed by the sensation of his mouth on you, the steady rhythm of his fingers moving inside you. Each movement is expertly calculated to draw out your pleasure, brushing against that one spot inside you that only he knows how to reach. A whimper escapes you as he curls his fingers, hitting that spot just right and making stars burst behind your closed eyes. 

The coil in your belly tightens further, spiraling towards a peak that threatens to consume you completely. You’re panting now, body taut beneath him, hands clutching at the sheets around you as if they were a lifeline. Your voice is a ragged whisper as you plead, “Kusuriuri…” 

His response is immediate, his pace quickening in response to your plea. The sensation of his tongue on your clit and his fingers inside you growing more intense, driving you towards the edge with a relentless rhythm. His name spills from your lips again and again, each utterance growing louder and more desperate as you teeter on the brink. 

He doesn’t let up, pressing harder against you with each stroke of his tongue and every thrust of his fingers. Your body is a live wire under him, thrumming with anticipation. You can feel yourself spiraling closer and closer to the edge, pushed by Kusuriuri’s skilled ministrations. 

And then suddenly, you’re there. You feel the world tilt beneath you as the pleasure coursing through your veins explodes into a fiery inferno that consumes every part of your being. He continues his ministrations, drawing out your climax until you're left gasping for breath, your body convulsing beneath him in waves of pleasure. You cling on to Kusuriuri as if he’s the only real thing in this world, your fingers digging into his shoulders. 

He doesn't stop until he's sure you've ridden out every tremor of your climax, each flick of his tongue and press of his fingers calculated to enhance the aftershocks that ripple through your body. Your gasps turn into sighs, and you relax back onto the bed with a contented exhale. 

When he finally pulls away, his gaze is intense but satisfied as he takes in your flushed face and glazed eyes. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before leaning down to press a kiss against your forehead, a simple gesture that sends warmth spreading through your chest. 

"You're beautiful," he murmurs against your skin, his tone laced with affection. 

“You did it again.” 

“Did what?” 

“Stripped me from my clothes, made me cum, yet you’re still fully dressed.”

A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, a glint of mischief dancing in his golden eyes. "Hmm, it appears I have. My apologies." He murmurs in a tone that suggests he is anything but apologetic. 

He pulls away from you slightly, sitting back on his heels as his hands begin to work on the intricate ties of his kimono. His movements are slow and controlled, clearly intended to tease and keep your attention as he gradually reveals more of his skin. His dark purple kimono joins your discarded clothes on the floor, revealing black leggings that clung to his legs and a red nagajuban that hinted at the toned physique hidden beneath. 

His gaze holds yours, an unspoken challenge in his golden eyes as his light-blue locks fall around his shoulders in a cascade of color that catches the dim light around you. 

With an almost casual grace, Kusuriuri moved his hands to the sash around his waist, undoing the knot and letting it fall to the floor. The rest of his clothes soon followed, leaving him in nothing but his skin. He was beautiful in a way that took your breath away, his pale skin glowing in the dim light.

He chuckled lowly at your awed expression, crawling back onto the bed and looming over you. His body is a tantalizing promise against yours, every touch sending sparks through your veins. He brushes a few strands of hair off your face as he leans down to press a kiss against your lips, effectively stealing your breath away. 

You reach up to weave your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer as you revel in the feel of him. His kisses are intoxicating, filling you with a warmth that spreads through your entire body. 

"I believe it's your turn to be pleased," you whisper against his lips. 

He returns your smile with a smirk of his own, the light from the candles dancing in his golden eyes. "And what makes you think I haven’t been pleased simply by making you feel good?" His voice was low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine. 

But before you can answer, he presses his lips against yours once more, effectively silencing any retort you might have. His kisses are intoxicating, drawing you in and making the world outside fade away until there is nothing left but the two of you. 

He leans back on his heels, admiring the view before him. You are sprawled out beneath him, completely at his mercy, and he loves it. 

Your eyes flutter open to find his gaze locked onto yours, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips as he trails his fingers along your bare skin. His touch is feather-light, barely there, but even the slightest contact ignites a spark of desire in your veins. His eyes travel the length of your body, taking in every detail as if it is a work of art. And then slowly, ever so slowly, his fingers move to touch you. 

His hands were everywhere – exploring, touching, teasing – making you writhe beneath him with each caress. His fingers were just as skilled as his mouth had been – perhaps even more so. Each touch is calculated to enhance your pleasure, to draw whimpers and cries from your lips that echo through the room. 

Gently, Kusuriuri spreads your legs and positions himself between them, his golden eyes never leaving yours. You feel a surge of desire as he lines himself up at your entrance, the tip of him nudging against you in a tantalizing promise of what's to come. 

He thrusts into you – slowly, agonizingly so. A choked gasp slips from your lips as your body adjusts to his size. His name falls from your lips like a sweet plea, and he obliges, setting up a slow rhythm that has you writhing beneath him. 

His strokes become quicker and harder, each thrust driving him deeper inside you. As each moment passes, his control wanes, and his thrusts become erratic, filling the room with the sounds of your combined pleasure. His hands grip your hips firmly, anchoring you to him as he drives inside you relentlessly. 

His name rips from your throat over and over again, echoed by the fervent groan that shakes his own chest. His eyes are locked onto yours, a mixture of lust and adoration shimmering within their golden depths. He leans down to press a kiss against your lips, swallowing the moan you let out when he hits that spot inside you. 

"Look at me," he murmurs against your lips, his voice strained with his own pleasure. His eyes flutter open to meet yours once more; determination etched on his features. Your fingers dig into his shoulders as you lock gazes with him, a silent affirmation of your connection. 

Driven by your reactions and the desperate plea in his name that rolls off your tongue, Kusuriuri changes the angle of his movements, hitting deeper within you with every thrust. The change sends sparks of pleasure coursing through your veins as you near your release. 

"Kusuriuri," you gasp out breathlessly, the world around you narrowing down to just him - his touch, his scent, the feeling of him moving within you. "I'm close..." 

"Then let go," he whispers the encouragement into your ear, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin there. 

You nod frantically, words lost in the tidal wave building within you. Your vision blurs at the edges as your release crashes into you, a scream tearing itself from your throat as your body convulses in pleasure. 

With a few more thrusts, Kusuriuri joins you; his gaze locked onto yours as he reaches his own climax. His body stiffens above you, a low growl rumbling in his chest as waves of pleasure wrack his body. His golden eyes are brighter than ever, a burning intensity to them that leaves you breathless once more. 

After what feels like an eternity, he gradually eases his hold on you, finally releasing a breath he'd been holding in. He collapses next to you on the bed, his arms wrapping around you instinctively. 

His breathing eventually slows, matching the relaxed rhythm of yours as the two of you bask in the afterglow.

"I do hope that was satisfactory," he murmurs after a few long moments of silence, smirking at you from beneath heavy eyelashes. 

"More than satisfactory," you chuckle in response, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder, your lips curving at the satisfied hum that vibrates from within his chest. 

"Good," he says simply, with a content sigh. His golden eyes close gently, his features relaxing in peaceful satisfaction. For a moment, you savor the silence, letting the calmness envelop you in its warm embrace. 

Kusuriuri's fingers trace absent circles on your skin, lulling you into a peaceful stupor. You lose yourself in the sensation of his touch and briefly wonder if this is what it feels like to be wholly adored by someone. From his languid movements and steady breathing, you can tell he's nearing sleep. 

He looks serene: every sharp line and angle softened by the fading candlelight. 

However, sleep doesn’t claim Kusuriuri so easily; he’s always half-awake, forever alert to any possible threats. It’s one of the things you’ve come to understand about him: despite the calm exterior, there’s always an undercurrent of readiness that seldom fades away. 

Breaking through your thoughts, Kusuriuri adjusts himself slightly on the bed. He pulls you closer until your back is against his chest, wrapping an arm around you securely. His body is warm against yours, providing a comforting presence that helps your weary eyes to drift close.

[hxney-lemcn]

Late Night Chaos — Daisuke x gn! reader

summery: things aren't looking too good, so the crew decides to open the cargo hold and find out just what you were delivering.

tw: nothing that isn't in the game.

a/n: Updates might be a bit more spaced apart, but I'm gonna see this to the end. I refuse to give up on it.

wc: 2k

Master List

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine

“I didn’t even wanna do this stupid internship.”

An admission into the night you're sure you weren’t meant to hear. Your insomnia grew worse, unable to get Curly’s painful screams out of your head or the plight you all found yourself. Only two months have passed, and you weren’t sure if anyone was even looking for you. Did Pony Express even have any tracking system to see if ships were down? Would they search when it was already too late? 

Your pessimism was shining through, but you tried to keep it to yourself, not wanting to smother Daisuke’s hope. It seems even he was prone to dark thoughts, but you’d be more concerned if he wasn’t worried at all. 

“If I just told my mom no I could be home right now,” Daisuke continued to mutter to himself. “Who am I kidding, I could never tell my mom no.”

“I wish you did,” you replied, eyes still closed and curled up in a ball.

“Y-you’re awake?” Daisuke gasped, but you made no sign of movement.

“Hmm,” you hummed, pressing your face farther into your pillow. “I wish you weren’t here.” Your words were harsh, causing the brunette to hesitate. You had gotten harsher after the crash, becoming more blunt.

But you had also gotten softer somehow. Sending him mixed signals, your harsh words softened when you gently stroked his cheek, eyes finally opening to meet his own. Anger, fear, sympathy, regret, so many emotions spun in your jewel colored eyes he almost felt dizzy. 

“I wish we met before this,” Daisuke said, voice cracking as he felt pressure form behind his eyes. Shit, he didn’t wanna cry, he had to be strong, for you and the rest of the crew. 

Your fingers brushed under his eye, catching a tear that was threatening to fall. Your silence felt warm, inviting, your gaze broke him, the dam breaking as his wishes spilled past his lips.

“I wish we were back on Earth. Hanging out in my room and this all just ended up being a bad dream. My mom calling us for dinner and everything is okay.” 

He was crying now, fat tears falling down his cheeks as you continued to stroke them. Daisuke wrapped his arms around your form, burying his face in your neck as he let out strangled sobs, not wanting to wake the others.

“I’m sorry,” You murmured into his hair, gently running your nails up and down his back in a soothing manner. “You don’t deserve this, none of us do.” 

…

“We ain’t touching the damn cargo,” Swansea argued. “The hold is locked down for a reason. The only thing worse than dyin’ slowly is not gettin’ paid.”

The whole argument seemed redundant. It seemed that Swansea was the only one against opening the cargo hold. He was a stubborn old fool in your opinion. If your speculation is right, and you won’t be looked for until your ship doesn’t come on time, then you’ll all have died from either starvation or lack of oxygen. Both those options seemed terrible to choose from, but a long, drawn out death was worse than a short painful one. For all you knew, you all were shipping food, or water, or something that could keep you all going just a bit longer. Especially since the cryo chambers were out of commission (not like there were enough for the six of you anyway. Besides, Curly had no chance to survive the freeze due to his wounds). 

“But it could be something useful,” Anya argued back. “I think-”

“Could be what?” Swansea cut her off. “Hopes, dreams and marzipan? Hah!”

“Could be food,” You interjected, glaring at the oldest of the crew. “Protein bars, chips, hell maybe we’re lucky enough to be carrying canned goods.”

“If it helps us survive it’s worth it,” Jimmy added with a nod. 

“Man,” Daisuke spoke up. “Pony Express bosses really aren’t chill at all, huh? C’mon, a quick look won’t hurt.” 

You nodded in agreement before Swansea brought up a good point, “How exactly is this group therapy committee planning on gettin’ in there?”

“Oh, right here boss,” Daisuke pointed to himself with a smug grin. “You’re looking at the meanest swing of the regional junior baseball team! Nearly straight up corked a kid once! I can take the utility ax-” You couldn’t stop the snort that came out of you, hiding your face behind your hands as everyone looked at you with various emotions. 

“You were goddamn born fully corked,” Swansea glowered, face twisted in a harsh sneer. 

“That’s enough, Swansea,” Jimmy intervened. “There has to be an ‘in case of emergency’ way inside.”

“If I remember correctly from reading the safety protocols…” Anya trailed off. “The doors should have an alternate access code, but it can only be uncovered using a code scanner device.”

“And only the captain has access to the scanner,” Jimmy continued. 

“Of course! Go ahead, just ask him all about it then,” Swansea mocked. “Maybe he’ll sing ya the blues too.”

“We can just look for the scanner,” You brought up. “It’s probably either in the captain's quarters or the cockpit.”

“I’ll figure it out,” Jimmy waved you off. “For better or worse, I’m captain now.” You tried your best to hide the offended look that fell on your face, but it was hard to do so when Jimmy rubbed you the wrong way. Sure, it made the most sense for him to be acting captain since he was Curly’s co-pilot, but you didn’t like the way he acted like he had to do everything himself. It was giving you ‘I need to do everything my way and feel better about myself’. 

“Right on!” Daisuke cheered, before you all split your ways. Anya ran off to medical, Swansea stopped Daisuke from following him while Jimmy probably went towards the cockpit. That left you and Daisuke to sit in the rest area, the led screen shone an image of a warm sunset, permanently stuck after the crash. 

“You really think there might be food in the cargo?” Daisuke asked, resting his head against the top of the chair.

“It’s probably wishful thinking,” You grumbled, taking the seat across from him.

“Damn,” He sighed. “I was kinda hopin’ for something other than soup.” 

“You dissing soup?” You asked, raising your eyebrows. “I’ll take your portion too if you don’t want it.” Wait! No!” Daisuke exclaimed with a chuckle. “I take it back, I mean I love love love soup and want to eat it every day!”

“You’re such a dork,” You laughed, gently kicking his foot. 

The door slid open, halting your conversation as Jimmy walked up to you both. He stared at you both intently, and you felt a bit uncomfortable at the irritable stare in his eyes. You slowly realized he always looked that way.

“Looks like it’ll be soup again for dinner,” Daisuke spoke up first. “You wanna rock paper scissors for the chicken noodle?”

“That’s my favorite,” You pouted. Daisuke tended to make you feel more relaxed, no matter the situation.  “Ah, nevermind then,” He sighed. “It’s theirs.” Gosh, he never failed to make you feel warm either, even in your dire circumstances. 

“How much food do we have left?” Jimmy cut in, ignoring your banter altogether. 

“I’d say four months-ish,” Daisuke replied. 

“Hmm, less than the remaining air supply, but we can make it last,” Jimmy muttered to himself holding a hand up to his chin. “In theory. We’ll be poking new holes in our belts to pull that off.” The thought of starving unsettled you, but it was an unfortunate possibility. But then the question is how much air supply is left? That was something you couldn’t conserve…well, unless someone died…but even then it wouldn’t be much.

“Man, my mom will straight up stuff me when I get back,” Daisuke laughed, trying to keep the atmosphere light. “I’ll look like Swansea!” You chuckled bittersweetly, shaking your head amusedly. “We’ll have a rad story to tell,” Daisuke continued, looking between you and Jimmy with a strained smile. “They might even write articles about us. We could be on TV!” Once again there was a pit in your stomach. No matter the outcome, you were sure to appear on TV…

Jimmy also seemed uncomfortable, eyes shifting, and posture ridgid, “Uh, it’ll impress the ladies too.” You nearly broke out laughing at how awkward Jimmy was, coughing into your fist to hide it. Even funnier was it seemed he didn’t realize you and Daisuke were already in a relationship.

Daisuke looked confused, glancing at you briefly before uttering a confused, “Uh…yeah…the real problem is running out of toilet paper. Fatal stuff, man.” This time you couldn’t smother your laughter, hiding your face from the two men before you. 

“Seriously!” Daisuke emphasized, grin turning brighter at your laughter. “We should leave that part out for the press.”

“Totally,” You agreed. “Wouldn’t want the ladies to know.” This time Daisuke snorted, Jimmy nodding uncomfortably before leaving. The two of you cackled for a few more seconds before calming down.

“I thought everyone already knew we were dating,” Daisuke said, confused. “Not like we’ve been hiding it.”

“Just goes to show how much he cares,” You shrugged with a sigh. 

“You think he got the code scanner?” He asked, tilting his head slightly.

“I’d think so,” You nodded. “Wanna head to the cargo hold?”

“Yeah.”

…

Mouthwash. 

You were hauling fucking mouthwash. 

It felt like a tiny bit of your sanity slipped away. You weren’t the only one though, everyone looking at the contents of the box in disbelief. 

“Mouthwash?” Anya asked in a shaky voice.

“Un-fucking-believable,” Swansea cursed. 

“There’s gotta be an ocean of the stuff in here!” Daisuke exclaimed. “The room looks freakin’ endless!” You felt dizzy staring at the rows upon rows of shelves, boxes stacked to the brim on each one. 

“This is what they’d have six people hauling for over a year?” Jimmy scoffed in disbelief. “All of this…for mouthwash?!” You tensed slightly at his shout, but quickly focused on Anya as she spoke up.

“The sugar content probably offsets any potential as a disinfectant…” Anya informed, reading the ingredient content. Great, this was completely and totally useless-

“Disinfectant? What’re you-” Swansea grumbles. “Let me see that!” Snatching the bottle Swansea reads the contents as well. “Fourteen percent ethanol.” Suddenly he bursts out laughing, seeming a bit manic. 

“Haha?” Daisuke gave a confused laugh, clearly not understanding the implications. “I s’pose we’ll smell good at least…?”  “That’s right kiddo! You can bet your ass on that!” Swansea continued to laugh. 

“W-what are you doing?” Anya stuttered, eyes wide in concern. “Stop that!” Instead, Swansea starts to chug the blue liquid, causing your stomach to churn. 

“Whew-whee,” Swansea, sighs. “Ohhh, shut up. I’m just an ol’ codger taking care of his dental hygiene.”

“You hear that?” Swansea continues, glancing at you all. “That’s the sound of fifteen years of sobriety popping like a cyst. A glorious, magnificent, red hot cyst. Good riddance and cheers! To Captain Curly! Hear, hear!”

“Guess anyone could get seriously blasted off of this stuff,” Daisuke mutters loud enough for us all to hear. 

“Yeah, and give you a seriously bad stomach ache,” You grumbled. 

“And kill you in the process,” Jimmy huffed. 

“This can’t be real,” Anya bemoans. “I-There’s no way…”

“Now we can go out in style,” Swansea grins nihilistically. “Daisuke! Come here! Anyone ever teach you how to drink like a man?” 

You felt your stomach drop, one alcoholic was bad enough, you would be damned to let Swansea drag Daisuke down with him. 

“C’mon,” You muttered, grabbing Daisuke’s hand and dragging him past the rest of the crew, head down. 

“Somthin’ wrong?” Daisuke asks once you're both back in the main hull. 

You blinked at him like he was dumb, “Seriously? This whole situation is wrong! And now Swansea’s out of commission if he’s gonna nurse that goddamned mouthwash!” You let out a frustrated sigh, running your hand through your hair. 

“And he’s trying to take you down with him.”

“I won’t drink it if that’s what you’re worried about,” Daisuke mumbles softly, eyes filled with concern. 

You side-eyed him, feeling anxiety claw at your chest, “And how do I know you’ll keep that promise?”

Daisuke opened his mouth, but nothing came out, confirming your fears.

[heartmix]

Never Be - Jack Hughes

Pairing: Jack Hughes x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.4K+ (with lyrics)

Warning: theres angst, pre-devils Jack

A/N: inspired by never be by 5sos. this is not how i wanted to end the fic but it just went in that direction

Masterlist \ Hockey Masterlist

We'll never be as young as we are now It's time to leave this old black and white town

"Let's leave."

"What?" Lifting your head to look at him beside you on the couch to ensure you heard him right. Both of you were in the Hughes family basement enjoying a film you knew he wasn't really paying attention to. Everyone else was asleep upstairs, ditching the both of you two movies ago.  

"Let's leave, go somewhere. No turning back." He repeated giving you a serious expression. Jack was full of surprises and you've learned to love that about him but the look in his eyes tonight was different. There was no pinpointing what emotion he was feeling but you knew he needed this, whatever this was. 

"What's gotten into that brain of yours Hughes?"

"This is the last time we get to be young and dumb. By next week, we'll be both adults off to do our own thing. Just one last time being a teenager with you."

"Well, what do you wanna do? Where do you wanna go?"

"Follow me." He said holding out his hand. Glady taking it you let him pull you off the couch and straight to his car. 

Jack wasn't exactly sure where he was driving to; he didn't have a destination in mind. He just wanted to leave the town with you and soak in the few moments you had left together before his world changed. By this time next week, he would already be practicing at the devil's rink and you would be moving into your new college dorm. As much as he didn't want to think about it, he wouldn't get the chance to talk to you every day. From the stories Quinn has told he would be lucky to catch you when you both are free or when in the same time zone when he's away for games. The Hughes brothers, as close as they are were lucky to catch a back-to-back conversation when the season started. 

I've seen myself here in your eyes I stay awake 'til the sunrise I wanna hold you hold you all night I wanna tell you that you're all mine

The farthest place Jack could think of going was the lookout where the both of you were frequent visitors. He remembered the first time he took you here. It was just a few years ago when he was learning how to drive and accidentally took the wrong turn. Between the nervousness from driving and you teasing him every second of being so nervous, he ended up on the lookout. A happy accident that became both of your spots.

"This might be your last view of our spot for a while." He looked over seeing you take in the sight yourself. 

"Same goes for you, you had to move away for college."

"You had to move away for hockey." teasing back, Jack couldn't help the hint of a smirk pulling from his lips. 

A moment of silence passed through. The only sound was from nature surrounding you both. There was no telling what time it was, time seemed to not exist but at the same time moving faster than he would like. If he could take this moment with you in his arms watching the slowness of the town, he would hang it on every wall so it would make it feel like it never ended. 

"What's going on with you Jacky?"

"I'm just taking this in before leaving." He didn't want to meet her eyes, he was holding on by a thread, and with one more push, he was going to spill his guts. 

"I thought we came to terms with this changing?"

"We did. I came to terms with leaving for New Jersey, not leaving you." There it was. The thing he was trying to hold back and not tell you. He didn't want to guilt trip you and make you feel bad. This occurrence was part of growing up, they weren't the first people to experience this change. 

"Jack.." 

"You are the only constant I had in my life these few years, I don't remember a time we've been apart for a long period of time."

"We'll see each other at Christmas right? that's just a few months away." He knew what you were trying to do and although you giving him hope usually cheered him up, it didn't work this time. 

"Might as well be a whole lifetime."

"You're not making this any easier for me." looking at you he saw tears welling up in your eyes. That wasn't what he wanted to do and he wished he could take back what he just said. 

"I thought you accepted it already." 

"I accepted it until tonight. I've been trying so hard to accept it and it took me nights of crying to be okay and here you are not moving on and it's breaking down my walls." at this point the tears couldn't stop and just kept following. he's never seen you like this, breaking down about the two of you being apart. You were always the strong and level head one out of the two, so seeing this right now he wished more than anything he could be in control of time. Reversing it so he never poured his heart out or freezing it so the both of you could stay like this forever. 

"Why didn't you tell me you've been crying?" The crack in his voice snapped something in you.

"Because you're going to the freakin NHL. I was with you on draft day and saw all the excitement from everyone. How selfish would I be if I told you I was sad about you moving away from me."

"Now you know how feel when I read your acceptance letter to a school on the other coast."

A beat of silence passed before either of them said anything. This was the first time both of you confessed how you were really feeling. Jack knew you were feeling upset about the change just like him, but hearing you confess how it was affecting you tugged at his heart even more. 

"Can you promise me one thing?" Her ask almost came out as a whisper, like she wasn't sure if she wanted to say it.

"Anything you want."

"When you make it big, and you get new friends, a new life in Jersey, a girlfriend, and start a family, promise that you'll never forget me. I'll be good with one call a year or a text for my birthday. I don't think I could take being out of your life for good." The confession made him mad. What was she even talking about? Did she really think that she could be replaced so easily, after being connected by the hips since grade school? 

"Baby, what are you saying? I'm never ever going to forget you. You are my person and the only constant I want in my life. If you are down the road from me or on a different coast, you'll always be mine. Don't think for one second I'll want to find someone else. I want you and I'm happy with any way I'll get that."

"Jack you're not saying what I think you're saying." He was. He didn't want to confess it this way but hearing all the nonsense she was talking about, he needed to end those thoughts right now. 

"I am. I just haven't had the courage to tell you until now."

"I need to ask you for one more thing." The tone in her voice made him scared. Of course, she wouldn't feel the same way. 

With the last bit of dignity he had left he still wondered what she wanted to say, "What is it?"

"I need you to tell me this when we aren't about to move away from each other. It can't be at Christmas or off seasons also. I need you to tell me this when we have adulthood somewhat figured out. If you still feel the same way, tell me then." Although it wasn't what he wanted to hear, he was glad she felt the same way. Of course, she wanted to be logical while in the heat of emotion. 

"I've felt like this for years, if I have to wait a bit longer I will." A smile cracked through. He wasn't kidding. He's waited years since they first entered high school, what difference does it make if he has to wait for her to finish college? 

"We'll see."

"Can we pretend for the last few hours we have tonight? I wanted to remember this."

"You got until sunrise Jacky." With a content smile, he pulled you into his side, entangling your fingers together and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. If he had to wait a few years so be it. 

We'll never be as young as we are now As young as we are now

[soxcietyy]

Star 18+

Gojo x reader

A trouble maker pop star who was planning on meeting an influencer gets caught by her annoyingly smart bodyguard.

You walk off the stage panting from the Philippines heat wave. You were currently going on tour in Asia having back to back dates in different cities. You thought it was going to be hard but thankfully you had your trusty crew touring with you.

Handing your microphone to a staff member you walk to your changing room to take off all the makeup and clothes you were wearing. As much as you loved it and looked great in it you couldn’t help but want to feel free from them. If someone had warned you about how hot it got here you would have probably had better costumes and clothes suited for the weather.

You began by taking your jewelry off, that being rings, bracelets and necklaces. It wasn’t a bad process but on exhausting days you would dread it. It had happened too many times but once you fell asleep in the corner after a show and everyone had been looking for you frantically. They thought you had gotten kidnapped or worst. After a few hours you were found and scolded for it. That is why you had a bodyguard keeping an eye out for you now.

"Gojo, you don’t have to stay in here, you can wait outside." You say as you look in the mirror to see him standing right behind you. It was hard to notice his presence at first but now you could tell when he was there or not.

"No can do siren I have to keep a hard eye on you. Don’t you remember what happened last time?"

"Would you quit with that nickname?"

Last time you tried to go to a club after a show by climbing through a window. Unfortunately he had caught you when half of your body was out. He’d grabbed you by the leg and yanked you back inside. You weren’t allowed to go to such places because of the risk of getting seen and dragged into a scandal. Your PR team would hate if that happened again. So there was a rule of only being allowed to go to the hotel and stadium.

That was fine though, the rule was that you had to only be at those two locations . Nothing about when and with who. Recently you’ve been sneaking guys into the back so you could hook up with them. Nothing wrong with a bit of after relaxation.

"No can do Siren, hurry up so I can go home." He said.

You roll you eyes and make him turn around as you dress into a skirt, baby tee, and some chunky sneakers. You made sure to put a hat on before leaving the room with Gojo.

"Alright I’ll be on my way, see you tomorrow night." You glance at him before walking down the hall. You watched from the corner of your eye as he stood there watching you walk away.

By the time you made it down stairs you went into a stairwell where a guy in all black sat waiting for you. You didn’t really have a type, all they needed was to be was attractive. They were quite easy to find on the internet. Especially if they were influencers because they could not afford to have there reputation tainted. You could always build yourself back up with your talent. They couldn’t. Today you got lucky enough to get with one of the Philippines most popular vlogger.

Had over 160 million followers, was rich, had such a nice body and was a real looker.

You made sure to take your time back up to the dressing room. He should definitely be gone by now so that gave you the chance to use this room to let of some stea-

"Leave before I slam you to the ground." Gojo said as he leaned on the makeup table.

You looked at him in disbelief until the guy behind you quickly ran away. How did he know? Did he never leave? Has he known about this? You weren’t able to see his facial expression’s clearly due to him wearing those stupid sunglasses inside. You just wanted to tear them off and slap the smug smirk off his face.

Letting out a heavy sigh you turn around to leave but his voice stopped you from taking any further action.

"Not you"

Your heels turn once more to see him approaching you. It took him two strides to reach your personal space. You tilted your head up to look at those glossy sunglasses peering over you.

"Pull your skirt up and bend over the table."

Your eyes widen.

"Excuse me?! What the hell are you telling me to do?! You think you can get me to do anything because you’re my body guard?! Well I have news for you! Your fi-"

"A new rule was established Siren, they caught up with your little sneak ins and now have me making sure you don’t meet up with anyone outside the stadium or hotel. They don’t want you having relations with anyone they don’t have investigated." He smiled.

"Fine, just let me go I haven’t even done anything with him yet." You cross your arms.

"Sorry but you took a while to get back here, from all I know you guys already have done it." He says before taunting his head at the table.

You bit your cheek before dragging your legs towards the mirror. You scrunch your skirt up and bend over the table.

You were definitely going to say something about this to the company! No maybe you should file a lawsuit because this had to be a violation. You have your lawyers on speed dial so this shouldn’t be a problem. You just had to wait for him to put his hands on you so you could file one.

He was now behind you looking at what was Infront of him. You saw as he bent down and pulled your panties down to your ankles. He made you step out of them so he could spread your legs apart. You hid your face as you felt him spread your folds too. This was so humiliating. It just had to be that jerk.

"Hm I don’t know siren your pretty wet down here. I’m going to have to inspect further. Just keep standing still and don’t move." He said as he shoved his fingers in your hole. You jolt from the sudden feeling and bite your lip.

He was moving his fingers aggressively and quickly. You cover your mouth as he kept moving but you could help but let some whimpers escape. Your legs would twitch everything his fingers pressed on a certain spot and once he realized this he kept pestering it. Your legs began to buckle as you were close to your climax but before you could he slipped his fingers out of you.

"Siren, you feel pretty good down there but something feels off. Be honest," he stood up and leaned over you. Removing a hand from your mouth he held it as he took his sunglasses off so you could meet his cold gaze. "Did you play with yourself using these fingers?"

Your face turned into a crimson red.

"Naughty Siren." He whispers making you rub your heat onto him. "Such a needy thing. From now on if you’re going to play with yourself you need to tell me so we don’t have to go through this whole process. I’ll need to watch though to make sure it’s your fingers you’re using and not someone else’s." He kisses the top of your head.

"Saturo I can’t anymore, stop teasing me and put it in." You bite out.

"No relations remember siren?"

You turn around and shove him onto the makeup chair. You quickly climb on top and straddle him. He had no idea how badly you wanted this, wanted him. Never have you felt this desperate till now.

"I’ll stop sneaking out, I’ll stop meeting other men only if you do it with me. Anytime I want day and night. It will make your job easier and it well help me get the released I need." You say.

He analyzed you before letting out a laugh.

"Alright alright siren, didn’t know you were so needy. Here hold these for me." He said as he placed his sunglasses on you to wear. He turned you around to face the mirror as he undid his pants. Once his member sprang free he aligned you with it and slammed you down sending electricity down your spine.

He held you by your thighs as he used you as his sleeves. Using you to his hearts content. This was such a great view for the bodyguard to look at in the mirror. Having a pop star on his dick as you wore his sunglasses. Seeing how much you were enjoying him.

He knew anyone would kill to have you like this, to even see you in such a state. Such a shame that you were for his eyes only from now on. He was going to make sure that you became so obsessed with him and you wouldn’t want to leave him.

With a few more slams you became a mess. You moaned out his name as you rode your orgasm.

"That’s it my siren, sing for me."

[onskepa]

hiii!! i’m new to this whole request thingy :/ but i was wondering if you could make a fic about aonung with a runaway bride basically something about him being in love with a girl who isn’t inlove with him so she runs away to avoid being with him BUTTTT he finds her a couple years later mated to neteyam!! you don’t have to do it it was just a thought thank you!!!>.<

ooooooooooooh okie Im gonna love doing this one! Sit back and enjoy~!!

-------------

Tilayro

It is now or never. She can't handle another day for as long as he is around. Quickly and silently tilayro packs only the basics that she needs. Making sure she doesn't alert anyone in her home. She hopes that one day, her family will forgive for what she was about to do. May Eywa forgive her. 

Guilt threatens to rise up at the back of her throat, tilayro quickly shakes her head, no, now is not the time to doubt or have second thoughts. She will never have another chance like now. 

Making sure she has everything, taking one last look at her home, tilayro leaves. Running down the beach to where her skimwing is, quickly connecting with her dear friend, tilayro leaves. Making the daring move to leave the borders. Leaving her home and all that she ever knew. But this had to be done. Tilayro would rather do anything else than be forced to mate with a man who will never see her as she is. 

Neteyam slowly wakes up, letting his eyes adjust to the light in his home. Letting out a yawn, he gets up silently, as much as he could. His arm was tugged by his beloved mate who still sleeps soundly beside him. It truly never gets old, waking up and the first thing he sees is the love of his life. How did neteyam get so lucky? He thanks Eywa every day for having his beloved by his side. 

“Mmnn…stay…” he hears her whisper, reaching out to grab his other arm. 

Neteyam chuckles, how can he resist her? 

He lays down once again as she gets closer to his warmth. Taking in her scent, neteyam lets himself be wrapped around with her arms. Its still early. He can attend his duties a little later. 

Tonowari and his family along with a few clan members were getting ready for their long trip to the forest. Tsireya was pretty excited to meet a whole different clan and explore areas she never thought she would see. Ronal kept neutral of it, but tonowari can tell she looks forward to it. Ao’nung seems to rather stay and leave. 

“Why must I go? It has nothing to do with me” ao’nung complains for the hundredth time. Tonowari sighs for the hundredth time that day. 

“It has everything to do with you. You are the clan's future olo’eyktan, as well as tsireya being the future tsahik, so you have no option but to come as well” tonowari explains. Ao’nung just sighs and packs whatever he needs to pack. 

“No option, it seemed she did,” he muttered. 

Tonowari quickly turned to face his son again, “ao’nung, I know it still bothers you but its been 2 years now, your mother will look for a better match for you” 

“Better match, there will be no other like her and she is gone, a coward she was” ao’nung said with spite and hate in his voice. 

He still hasnt gotten over it. Still hurt from what the girl did. Tonowari understands his son. 

His betrothed ran away before they were able to be one. 

“Thats it, keep moving your legs to stay afloat. Tuk dont stop moving your arms” tilayro was swimming at a remote lake with some small na’vi children. Teaching them the basics of swimming, along with tuk who is her best student in the group. 

Seeing the position of the sun, it was time to end the lessons. 

“Alright everyone, lets get you all to the edge, come on come on” she tells while gently guiding them back on land. She makes sure they are all dry and drops them off to their families when they reach the village. Tilayro likes teaching the children how to swim, its part of her since birth. 

“Til!” tuk jumps up and down as she holds her hand making their way to the sully home. 

“Are you excited?? Aren't you arent you?” tuk asks rather excitedly. 

Tilayro giggles, “yes Im excited, its not everyday we meet a whole new clan” 

Weeks back Jake and mo’at announced they will be expanding their alliances to other regions of pandora. One of the first clans they managed to get in touch with is a reef clan. Its specific name has not reached tilayro’s ears yet but was given the position to assist when the clan arrives. Teach them how to adjust in the forest climate and environment. 

“Maybe you will see your family again?” tuk asks, imagining seeing more of tilayro’s people. 

“Who knows?” she responded, but secretly, she wishes she would never see anyone from the metkayina clan ever again.

Few days have passed and everyone in the clan prepares to welcome the coming clan that will hopefully be a new ally to the omatikaya. 

Neteyam, being stressed out of his mind, is forgetting things all over their home. 

“The feathers, where are they??” he mutters to himself. 

“Right here my love” tilayro giggles lightly as she places the elegant feathers in his braided hair. She makes sure he looks presentable, first impressions are everything. Checking every detail is good and perfect. Her love is perfect. Truly embodied that of a warrior. 

“Don't be so nervous ma’nete, everything will be alright. If eywa allows it, all will be well” she says to comfort neteyam. He sighs deeply, bringing her hands up to his face. Her teal blue skin met his dark blue. A stark contrast in shades but when together, they blend beautifully. 

Neteyam stays silent, just feeling her hands bring great relief. 

He moves a bit to wrap his arms around her, holding her tight. Stroking her hair, smelling more of her natural salty sea scent mixed with that of her favorite fruit, all his anxiety washes away. Only bliss and relief takes over his heart. 

“Please stay beside me, I need you there” he begs. 

Tilayro smiles, “of course, I will always be there for you” 

Calls echoed throughout the forest, alarms and signals were being given. The reef clan has arrived and are being guided towards the omatikaya village. Jake, Neytiri and mo’at were at the border to welcome the reef clan. 

Greeting each other, Tonowari smiles, feeling very privileged and honored to stand before the legend himself. His family greeting the same, all a bit nervous as they are clearly out of their comfort zone. 

“Toruk makto, it is a great honor to meet you” tonowari says. 

Jake pats him on the shoulder, “jake is fine, it is also an honor to meet you face to face” 

Pleasantries were said, ao’nung trying his best to look like an adult to his family and the olo’eyktan. 

Mo’at guided them into the village, many omatikaya were very welcoming and gave gifts to the reef na’vi. They all felt welcomed and easily enjoyed this whole new side of pandora they never seen. 

Ao’nung especially. 

The forest is beautiful, the village even more. Animals he has never seen or heard of were there right before his eyes. How the people behave and look, their style is so different. He was starting to enjoy it. Until he wasn't. 

“Hello, my name is neteyam. This is my mate, tilayro”

She promised she would be by neteyam’s side. Always. But at this moment, she wanted to run away and hide in the darkest cave the forest has. 

She has to be dreaming, this isnt real! 

Ao’nung was standing before her, being shocked as much as she was. 

“Your…mate…?” he asks very silently. 

Tilayro can feel her heart pounding against her chest, its drumming rhythm going against her ears. Sweat started to form from her forehead. She can pass out at any moment. 

“Yes, we have been together for 2 years now” 

OH how tilayor wishes for neteyam to stop talking right now. He is giving more fuel to ao’nung without even knowing. 

Even he seems to be confused by the sudden change of the boy in front of him. 

Until suddenly, ao’nung’s teal blue eyes stared straight into tilayro’s eyes. Feeling cold chills run down her spin. He is angry, very angry. Feeling his anger rise, she needed to say something, anything! 

“So this is where you have been this whole time…” was all he said before punches were being thrown.

A huge crowd was forming in the middle of the village, tonowari, ronal, mo’at, jake and neytiri had to stop what they were doing to see what was going on. 

To tonowari and ronal’s horror, they see their son ao’nung fighting with the olo’eyktans son, neteyam. 

“Hey hey hey!” jake called out. He and tonowari quickly get through the crowd and towards their own sons. Both of them were a bloody mess. Neytiri notices tilayro and tsireya crying in distress of what they witnessed. Kiri was there to comfort them both but neytiri still heads over to make sure they are ok. 

“What happened?!” tonowari demanded to know from ao’nung. 

His son had a bloody nose, scratches on his shoulders and a black eye forming already. But his words seemed to fall on deaf ears as ao’nung was ready to pounce on neteyam again. 

Neteyam in return looked ready for round two until tilayro got in their way. 

“You!! You mated with him?!” ao’nung shouted, accusing her like she did a heinous act. 

Tilayro was shaking but stood her ground, protecting neteyam. 

“I did! We mated before Eywa! It is done and there is nothing you can do about it!” 

Ao’nung can only stare at her, as thought she betrayed him in the worst way possible. He couldn't form any more words once she said it. 

“Oh shit…” was what came out of kiri’s mouth, quickly piecing together what is happening. 

Jake, while still holding neteyam back, stared at neytiri who understood what he was feeling. 

[I'm getting a sense of major deja vu right now] he thought.

Within the massive tent that had the leaders inside including neteyam, ao’nung and tilayro inside, no one was happy with what occurred. It was a serious situation that could tear what little could be salvaged between the omatikaya and the metkayina. 

While tonowari is furious with his son, same with ronal, both were beyond shocked to see tilayro living among the forest na’vi. And mated no less. That in itself brought more confusion. 

“Start talking boy, I want a clear honest answer” jake demanded. He was in no mood for humor or light hearted jabs. Kid or not, someone threatened his son, and to an extension, his daughter in law. 

Ao’nung looked down at his hands, feeling shamed for what he did. Letting his emotions get to him, but just seeing tilayro brought a wave of new found anger he thought he could never with hold. 

“Forgive me sir, I let my mind be shrouded in emotions. I should have never beatin your son and cause a gap between our clans” ao’nung says. 

Jake was not satisfied. 

“Let me be more clear, I want an explanation, not an apology. Why did you attack me son?” 

Tonowari and ronal shared a look of concern, yes what their son did was horrible but they fear what punishment the olo’eyktan would do once ao’nung confesses. 

“Tilayro…” ao’nung begins to say. Remembering his short time with her back at his home. 

“When your son said tilayro is his mate, I lost all control. I grew mad, angry and jealous. I shouldn't, but I did. Not liking it, I punched your son out of my own selfishness. I am sorry. I will accept any punishment you will give me” 

Neytiri leaned forward a bit, “what is tilayro to you?” she asks.

“We were arranged to mate,” tilayro starts to say. 

She and neteyam were back at the comfort and safety of their home. She does her best to heal his wounds while making sure to not inflict anymore pain. 

“My family and his believed it would be good if I and ao’nung were to be together. He was already chosen to be the metkayina’s next olo’eyktan. He just needed a tsahik. I was unfortunately the one” 

Neteyam didn't speak, letting her say what happened 2 years ago. 

He remembers exactly the day he met her. She was lost, had no knowledge of the forest and was scared of everything. Tilayro clearly stood out for how her body was different from the forest na’vi. Wider arms and lets, a thicker tail. 

He remembers helping her adjust, remembers being close to her, remembers how he fell in love with the mysterious aquatic na’vi. 

“For how long were you arranged…” he asks softly. 

“Hmm…for a long while. I thought it would work. That I could be a good wife and a good tsahik to our clan. I was foolish. They had us spend more time together. In a way I was glad, because I was able to ao’nung’s true side” 

Neteyam observes his mate’s expressions closely, her eyes filled with sadness and her body movement slow and not really concentrated. 

“What was he like?” 

Just from beating the shit out of that fish boy, neteyam concluded that ao’nung currently is still a child who has no control of his emotions. Still holding some grudge and won't let go of things no matter how long ago it was. 

“Selfish. A brute, always wanting to be praised and having his ego stroked” tilayro lists as she rolls her eyes. 

Neteyam slightly smirked, “isn't that what you do with-” 

“I'm still talking” 

“Yes ma’am” 

“He always took me somewhere that mostly had his bunch of friends. Really I think those friends only hung around with ao’nung simply because he is tonowari’s son. He always showed off to me, to an extent its fine. But he did it way too much. And it was all about him, for him, to him. He never had a moment to spare for me. Never properly courted me. So I came to the conclusion that we aren't fit. I could not for the life of me spend my life with someone like him…so I….left” 

A tear fell from her face, “I left one night and never looked back. But I don't regret it. If I hadnlt left…I wouldn't have met you” 

Neteyam brought tilayro closer and gave her a loving kiss on her sweet lips. 

“Im glad you did. You are the best thing to ever happen to me and I think Eywa every day for that”  he says. 

They shared a few more kisses before he picked her up and spun her around. Laughter filled the air once more. 

A few days later the metkyaina packed their stuff to head back to their home. What happened tarnished what was supposed to changed their lives for the better. Ao’nung felt ashamed. He did throw the first punch. Now he must deal with the consequences. 

But seeing tilayro, even from a distance, is panged his heart. 

He wasnt good to her, he knows that now. But ao’nung secretly did care for tilayro. How he showed it wasnt the best. Look where it lead to now. But he couldnt leave without saying anything to her. It was no or never. 

“Where are you going?” ronal asks her son, seeing him make his way to neteyam and tilayro. She panics, thinking what worse can her son do. 

That omatikaya warriors were quick to stand in front of the couple, not letting aonung get close. 

“Please, I wish to say something. I promise to not cause anymore harm” he pleads. 

IT was a long minute before neteyam hesitantly agreed. 

Ao’nung slowly gets closer to the couple, he bows his head. 

“Im sorry for punching you. It was not my place to say terrible things and much less hurting you. I know I ruined everything and I will work on improving myself”  he says. 

Neteyam didnt say anything, only a mere hum. 

Then ao’nung turned to tilayro who was showing fear in her eyes. 

“Im sorry…for everything. I know I didn't do a lot to show I was good for you. That I hardly put any attention on you like you deserve…I did and still do care for you tilayro. Im sorry I never showed it until it was too late” 

Tilayro can feel the genuine honesty coming from him, he was messing with her. He was being truthful, which is something she thought she would never see from ao’nung. 

“Please, treat her well. Tilayro is a good person, too good even for me” 

Ao’nung and neteyam shake hands, “thank you” he spoke. 

One last looked was shared before ao’nung left to join his clan. Not looking back, ao’nung and the metkayina begin their journey back home. The omatikaya looked after them. 

Neteyam wraps his arm around tilayro, wanting to feel her skin touching his. 

“He is right, you are a good person my love. A good woman, a good mate. Even I must confess, I am glad he wasn't the one for you” 

Tilayro releases a light giggle, placing her head on his chest. 

“You will always be the one for me neteyam” 

Choosing what she wants and how she wants, tilayro knows that is the best feeling. Having the freedom to whom to love and be genuin. 

Aaaaaaand that was it for this one! I hope you all liked it! Until next time! See ya!

---------

Tilayro = freedom

[reedles05]

The Responsible One

Michael had been odd ever since arriving in Santa Carla. Not a day went by where he acted like he did before the move. Being the oldest sibling meant a lot of things, one of which was taking care of the others when Mom couldn’t. During the entire divorce, you had been there to watch the other two, to make sure they were provided for while Lucy mourned her life moving on. 

And here you were witnessing the downfall of one of your brothers while the other was thriving. Sam had gone and even made friends that were as weird as he was, they had come by and gotten him to hang out while you were home. They were lovely boys, kind and respectful when meeting you. You had waved them off, telling them to be safe and have fun, the streets were dangerous after all. Normally, you would have advised against going out, but Sam needed time away from you. So, you had let him go, but not without something to have on hand in case something were to go awry. You had handed him a pocket knife, not something super dangerous, but something to fend off anyone with ill intent. He had shot you a look, the one where he was insinuating you were being overdramatic, but had taken it when you glared. You were relieved when his friends had awed at you giving him such a weapon, telling him how lucky he was for having you on his side. 

And that had put them in your good books. Sweet kids, Sam was lucky to have them. 

But Michael has been leaving in the night, not returning into early morning. You were worried, admittedly so. You were worried he was hanging around the wrong kinds of people, the kinds that had drugs on hand at any time. Even trying to confront him didn’t do anything, he only grew frustrated at being cornered by both you and Lucy. So, you did what any sane and concerned older sibling would do. 

Follow his ass. 

He wouldn’t get out of this so easily, making Lucy cry was on the list of ‘NO.’ 

And he knew that, so why was he going and doing things that were doing exactly that. 

Dressing yourself to avoid catching his eye, you listened to the tell tale signs of Michael leaving the house. The cracking of the window and the silence that followed. 

So you raced down the stairs and watched as he departed. He was quick, you’d give him that. You chased him all the way down to the Boardwalk. And watched as he met up with four men leaning on their bikes. He conversed with them, laughed and smiled until one of them wrapped an arm around his shoulders. A grimace crossed his face, and so you moved. 

Stepping with purpose, you strutted up to the men and pulled the blonde away from your lovely brother. 

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t get your nasty hands all over my darling brother, Micahel.”

Michael had tensed, eye widening once he recognized who had saved him from David.

He stuttered, trying to push you away before the others had really gotten a chance to take a look at you. But it was too late, and the men leered. Taking in your appearance, the vampires watched as you scowled at them, especially David. He had been the one to put his hands on Michael, and you had watched it as it happened. 

“I’m sorry, doll, but who might you be? I haven’t seen you around here before.”

David leered. And the rest watched as you remained as you were. Hand still in place on Michael’s shoulder, you scoffed. 

“I just told you, I’m Michael’s older sibling. And he was clearly unwanting of your hands being all over him. Fuck. Off.” 

And David laughed. 

Paul leaned in, eyes tracking every minute detail of you that he could.

“Older sibling, huh? Mikey boy never mentioned you, babe.” 

You looked over at Michael, trying to discern the look he was wearing at the moment. 

You nudged him, prompting him to speak.

“Any reason for that? I thought I was worth mentioning to your dearest friends. You do spend more time with them than you do us anymore.”

Michael opened his mouth, but was cut off by another one of the unintroduced men. 

David interrupted him, pressing a finger to his lips to shush him. 

“He was brushing off someone so hot just to hang with us? How cruel of you, Mikey.”

Marko had been the one to speak, pushing off his bike and approaching you. 

He had gone to reach for you, but Michael’s hand intercepted it. 

God, this was going to be an experience. 

–

David opened his arms, gesturing to his band of boys. Motioning to each one as he introduced. 

“This is Paul, Dwayne, and Marko.” 

You nodded, noting their names and pulling along Michael. 

“Great, we’ll be leaving now.” 

The one said to be Dwayne had stopped you, stepping in front of you and ceasing your escape. You looked up through eyelashes at him, a scowl overcoming your face once more. 

“I’m afraid I can’t allow you to leave without knowing your name, lovely.” 

Paul sauntered over, grabbing your arm and pulling you into him. 

“So..?”

“No.”

Michael went to speak but you glared, pointer finger held up to cease his talking. 

“I refuse to give you a name until you explain what’s going on with my brother and you all.” 

David smirked, eyes sharpening. 

“Alright then, we’ll explain everything. Let’s take a ride, boys.”

And that was all they seemed to want to hear, as their laughs started to sound out across the clearing. 

Marko threw out his hands.

“Who do you choose to ride with?”

“Preferably, none.”

But you had to admit, the boys were handsome, and roguishly charming. It was just the fact that they were somehow blackmailing Michael into staying near them. If not, you would gladly spend the night with any of them…or all of them. 

David laughed under his breath, but you saw the gesture. Sucking your teeth, you pointed to Marko. 

“I choose the wild curly blonde then.”

Marko looked shocked, pointing to himself before smiling wide. Cheering, he raced to your side before hauling you up bridal style. Screeching, you held onto his shoulders before slapping his back. He laughed the whole way to his bike, and once you made it, he dropped you on the back. Dropping in front of you, he looked back and smiled. 

“Hold on tight, gorgeous, we’re gonna be going fast.”

And that was all the warning you got before he took off faster than you’ve ever gone before. 

It was…

Thrilling. 

[justwinginglife]

Helooooo!! can I please request Soshiro finally introducing his fiance to his Father and Brother? Or maybe they're already married and have a kid and they went to introduce the child!💕💕

Loud Love

Soshiro hadn’t shut up since you agreed to marry him.

He was always a talker, but your engagement to him sent him into a perpetual state of gleeful frenzy. 

He’d wake up everyday and immediately snuggle closer to you, murmuring how lucky he was over and over again. He’d brush his teeth, mouth filled with foam, and gush about how excited he was to marry you. He’d pick out his outfit for the day then ask you a million times what you thought you’d wear on the wedding day. You responded by telling him it was a secret to which he’d pout but then he’d grin and say “Okay baby, I can wait for you.”

And you were sure your friends and your coworkers were sick of him skipping around, drunk on love, as he told literally anyone and everyone who walked by that you were his fiancee. He talked of nothing else and everyone was done with it but you.

Okonogi, as sweet and as caring as she was, had already scolded the two of you many times, telling you to get a room before she barfed. She had even slapped Hoshina with a rolled up newspaper when he asked her if she’d help you pick out lingerie for the wedding night and then secretly tell him what you’d gotten. She said she absolutely did not want to know what you were going to wear when you got freaky with the Vice Captain. 

Shinonome had always been jealous that Hoshina was so much more verbal of his love than Narumi was, but after hearing him word-vomit for hours on end about how much he was obsessed with you, she was glad Narumi wasn’t a talker. 

Nakanoshima held out the longest- she was used to crazy antics, having usually been the one perpetuating them. But at some point, even she thought that Hoshina was way too down bad for you. “Is it even possible for someone to be that love crazy?? It’s not natural.” 

But you thought he was perfect. You thought it was so cute that when the mail carrier dropped by with packages, Soshiro dragged you over so he could show you off to the guy before he signed off on the packages, exclaiming “Isn’t my fiancee such a beauty??” (of course, when the guy agreed with him, Soshiro then proceeded to protectively pull you closer to him, saying “Yeah, but you can’t have her, she’s mine”). And when the takeout guy delivered your food, when the cab driver came to pick you up, Soshiro did the same exact thing, over and over again. He just couldn’t stop parading you around. He was in love, and this was how he showed it. 

He was so high on happiness, that even when he had to work, when he had to fight, his adoration and devotion continued. He’d walk right up to a Kaiju and say, “Now, the love of my life is going to kill you now, but it’s okay because it’s an honor to be killed by someone so gorgeous. I mean, I’d die by her hands too.” Then you’d bash its core in, giggling like a schoolgirl and he’d admire your handiwork, showering you with compliments about your form and your talent. 

Eventually, Captain Ashiro gave you both a week off of work, just to save the base from the cheesy, flirty banter the two of you so publicly displayed, so frequently. Even she had grown tired of the lovey-dovey routine, happy as she was for you both, and she hoped you’d take this small vacation far, far away from the rest of them. Give them a bit of respite, so that they could still like you when you came back. 

Soshiro took this golden opportunity as a chance to take you back to his hometown. He wanted to show you where he grew up, and to introduce you to his family. He’d even made preparations so his brother, the Captain of the Sixth Division, would be home to meet you. He was beyond excited, even “ecstatic” didn’t begin to cover the extent of his feelings. 

He couldn’t sit still through the train ride. At first, he tried to- he snuggled up to you and rested his head on your shoulder, letting the train shift you back and forth against him. But then he wanted to show you the view as they got closer and closer to his town and he’d run back and forth across both sides of the train car to point out different sights to you. And then eventually he got so giddy he couldn’t sit back down anymore, he would just hum to himself as he paced beside you. You weren’t surprised, you’d been with him in bed, you knew how much energy he had. He was like a little golden retriever and you adored him for it. 

Finally, you arrived at your destination. 

You thought that he would be in a rush to take you to his family, but to your surprise, he wanted to give you the entire tour of his town first. He showed you the tree he had tried and failed to climb when he was younger, breaking his arm when he hit the ground wrong. He had been scared it wouldn’t heal right and he’d never be able to wield a sword properly again. He showed you his favorite places to train, his favorite places to run away to and avoid his family, his favorite places to hangout. You met all his neighbors, you met the owner of a convenience store that Soshiro frequented a lot when he was younger, you even met Soshiro’s barber (and thanked him for making your fiance look adorable every single time). 

With all this socializing, you felt you had to be prepared to meet his family now, you were already in the groove of things. But as you stood at the doors to the Hoshina manor, you felt your nerves seeping in. You remembered how Soshiro would tell you that his father had wanted him to give up on joining the Defense Force because it wasn’t logical. If he didn’t bless this union, if he didn’t see a future for the two of you, would he ask you to give up Soshiro? He’d have to suffer through his disappointment if he did, because you would never give Soshiro up. You were selfish, you couldn’t live without him. And you were greedy enough to hope he couldn’t live without you either. 

So you took him by the hand, hopes and dreams piled high, as you stepped into his childhood home. You could face anything, as long as he was beside you. 

He must’ve felt the uneasiness weighing you down, because he pressed a kiss to your hand, whispering, “It’s alright, I’ve got you.”

His parents are the first to greet you (they explain that Soichiro will be joining later).

They welcome you more warmly than you imagined they would, and it allows you some slight respite from your fears, your breath coming more naturally to you now.

You notice he got his looks from his mom, and presumably his strength and his skill from his dad. As you talk with them more, you discover his skill actually mainly came from sparring with his brother, and his stubbornness was a result of losing those spars with his brother. 

You wish you could’ve seen little Soshiro, sulking after another lost round, demanding for a rematch over and over until his body ached. You’ve only ever known cocky Soshiro, smug Soshiro. Soshiro, who was never unsure that he’d prevail in a fight. Soshiro, who was never afraid to challenge those who were supposedly better than him, butting heads with even the famous Captain of the First Division. Soshiro, who upon first seeing you, immediately began pursuing you with a frightening amount of fervor. Or it would have been frightening if it had been anyone but you; in actuality, you thought his passion and intensity were endearing, or at the very least, intriguing. You couldn’t wait to see what he had up his sleeve next. And he kept entertaining you every single day until that entertainment became fondness and that fondness became love. 

And now, here you were, begging his parents to like you, to accept you, to bless your union. You knew it was usually the man asking the woman’s family for their blessing, but you couldn’t help but feel the need to reassure the Hoshinas that you would take care of him. You would love him all your days. You would treat him the way he deserved, and support him the way that he needed. You wouldn’t just move mountains for him, you’d move solar systems. You needed them to know that, and you needed him to know that.

So, as Soshiro and his parents enjoyed their tea, you thought you’d take advantage of the silence. 

“I love your son.” You blurted out, causing everyone at the table to turn to you. “I love him more than anyone ever has or ever will. I love him so much it hurts, I love him so much that the hurting is blissful. I love him more than I did yesterday and the day before, and tomorrow I’ll love him more than I do today. I love him in this universe and every other one. I love who he was, who he is, and who he will be. I love every version of him, every detail of him, everything that there is to love- I love it all. I love him so much that I came here, with hopes high, even despite my fears, to meet you all. Because I want to know him more. Because I want to love who he loves. And if you could find it in your hearts to allow me the privilege of marrying your son, I’ll love him to the ends of the earth and back and never stop. And if you somehow don’t approve of our marriage, I want you to know that I’ll keep on loving him regardless. I love him so much that I don’t physically know how to stop. And I’d never choose to stop. I’d choose him in a million lifetimes, without a second’s hesitation, without a single doubt in my mind, he’s the one for me. So. Anyway. Please let me marry your son.”

You ramble and you ramble, but suddenly, as you’re nearing the end of your rant, you find your confidence stumbling. You’ve said too much and you’re hoping they’ll still hear you out. You wonder if they stopped listening after the first few sentences. You wonder if Soshiro is embarrassed. You wonder if you’re brave enough to look at him. You’re not. You pick at your fingers and stare into your cup of tea, waiting for someone, for anyone to break the silence. 

“Well, I think that pretty much covers everything. Sounds like you’re a lucky guy, Soshiro.” A voice from behind splits the silence. You all turn to see Soichiro Hoshina sauntering towards you, excited to join in on the conversation. He grins from ear to ear as he slaps Soshiro on the back and ruffles his hair, calling him “little bro,” to which Soshiro responds by shoving him away, grumbling. 

With him here, and having so publicly approved of your little love declaration, his parents seem to relax more. They speak their agreement and your hands finally stop shaking. 

You did it. You got their blessing. And you also earn yourself the most loving gaze Soshiro has ever bestowed on you in the process. He squeezes your hand as he continues beaming at you. The man is practically overflowing with love for you and now it’s evident for everyone else to see. 

His family exchanges fond glances with each other before finally offering up their congratulations and best wishes to you both. 

His adoration gives you the confidence to say what you’ve been thinking for a long time now, and you’re so glad you can finally say it.

“God, I’m so excited to be a Hoshina.”