#It took me hours to go through all my photos
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changingplumbob · 2 months ago
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My top 24 screenshots from 2024
Thank you for tagging me @bakersimmer, @fallin4fiction @elderwisp
I had so many! It was really really hard to narrow it down but I have attempted! If you can't tell I'm obsessed with nice lighting, family gameplay has my heart and I love love.
24. Willow Creek in Winter (ft Ariadne on a balcony)
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23. Sunset in Sulani
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22. Another Sulani sunset (I had a lot and love them)
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21. Rahul's Clones Twins Savannah and Mercedes
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20. Carson's bear phase immortalised
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19. Eliza teaching Tiana how to sit
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18. Winterfest with my aliens
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17. Chopra's rocking their signature colour
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16. Lovebirds and their toddlers
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15. Byron wondering why he should stand
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14. BabyBeef stargazing
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13. Flashback Johnny and Elena
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12. One of many snowboard action shots
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11. The York Family
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10. Infant Viola peeking during a storm
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9. Marta and Keira's Ofrenda
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8. Byron wondering why he should eat
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7. Laylart on a snowy adventure
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6. The Villareal yard
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5. Besties forever, Reece and Deanna
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4. Newlyweds, Mrs & Mrs Romero
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3. Aliens in a winter sunset
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2. Laylart in the glade
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1. A werewolf giving his fated mate a lift
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I tag ALL simmers who see this! Extra tag for @mdshh, @marcishaun, @abbysimsfun, @sharona-sims, @ethicaltreatmentofcowplants, @lostinsixam, @hashimasims, @paracosmic-sims, @cawthorntales, @anamoon63, @belsasim, @berrycactus, @deardiaryts4, @bouncytrait, @eljeebee, @holocene-sims, @fallstaticexit, @victoriaplaysims, @invisiblequeen, @ravingsockmonkey, @bastardtrait, @plasmafruittree, @ashubii, @babolat85, @aurorangen, @onestormeynight, @joleyssims, @philodendrontrait, @none-of-these-days, @rosienthe, @itmeansiris, @simstagramsomeone, @lynzishell, @purplesimmer455
Feel free to ignore me of course! And sorry I couldn't tag everyone, I'm still not sure I'll be able to post having tagged this many people without exploding (and some of my mutuals I would normally tag I have seen you already tagged, I still love you!)
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britneyshakespeare · 1 year ago
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I love drawing in charcoal because when you're in the beginning of a work, instead of looking like something reasonable it's perfectly acceptable and natural for them to look like this
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#does that look like anybody you know#tales from diana#(c'est moi)#i was trying to redraw brian protheroe (the same pic of him as edward iv i sketched roughly--and p badly--last month)#in charcoal. bc my mom got me charcoal PENCILS for christmas instead of sticks of vine#which were what i really needed. i dont like to use pencils hardly at all#it was an utter failure. i started off by just trying to do the basic contours of his face + neck + the crown#and then after about 20-30 minutes when i had an ok start i was like ill take a break to refresh my head#went away from it for like an hour. and was like why dont i just try it w the vine#i thought i would improve it. and i suppose i could've if i had REALLY tried#but i was exaggerating the proportions and making the worse while trying to fix them. everything got larger#and i was essentially erasing EVERYTHING i started with while i was trying to even them out#so i just gave up. lol#a girl has learned to quit while she's ahead. and she learned the hard way.#but i wasn't happy to just leave off that drawing a failure wo any plans to do something else#so i went looking through my photos on my phone and found a pic from nov. 2022 that i was going to use#as a reference pic for a figure drawing assignment that i was going to use. but my professor allowed me to draw#my grandmother instead of myself. so i never did that dramatic self-portrait assignment. i did a dramatic grandmother portrait#but i did like the dramatic-lighting picture i took of myself well enough and figured i would draw it someday#im just leaving this as a started picture for now. this wasnt much work at all maybe like 15 minutes#it's an ok start.#bc of the fucked up nature of forming a charcoal drawing i have to admit i usually like my progress pictures more than my final works. lol#like they just have a sort of monstruous edge to them. lol
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nanamiskentos · 28 days ago
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PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE ! ★ gojo satoru
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prologue ⋆ ★ your boyfriend, gojo satoru, told you that he was gonna' stay behind in japan, he had to go to work and all — he's a high school teacher, you see. so what's he doing sneaking behind the red carpet, looking all suspiciously rumpled and mussed? oh hell no.
pairing ⋆ ★ gojo satoru x reader genre tags & warnings ⋆ ★ afab!reader, jujutsu canon, celebrity!reader, misunderstandings and mild angst, reader doesn't know about jujutsu, makeup séx, máting préss, cérvix kissing, brééding kink :D
word count ⋆ ★ 5.7k! a/n ⋆ ★ because i've always wanted gojo to be on the red carpet...yasss watched the grammys <3 smth silly, short and sweet i whipped up 😁
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THE HOTTEST STAR OF THE YEAR RUSHES FROM RED CARPET, WHY? STAY TUNED FOR MORE.
saint laurent heels beat staccato taps into the worn brick, graff crystals dangling from your adorned wrist as you shove your brightly lit phone into your boyfriend's face, "what the hell, satoru?" the offending headline glaring right back at him from your screen.
gojo, for his part, just shoves his hands into his navy slacks, rolling his shoulders back in that deliciously snug ice-blue cotton dress shirt, sleeves pushed up to reveal thick forearms dusted with pale hair. you curse how your gaze dips, resolve cracking, and glossy lips pursed.
strange, how he he looks nothing short of absolutely roughed up, soft fabric crumpled, and sunglasses tilted askew. white hair mussed as though someone took to running their hands through snowy locks, huh.
"hi, baby. happy to see me?"
oh, he's trying to be charming. cute. gojo's grinning, lips parting over sharp teeth, acting as though he totally hadn't been lurking behind rows of insistent paparazzi practically hurdling themselves around the red carpet stairs.
and despite better judgement and little regard for desperate tabloids springing up, you'd pushed past security, past cries of your name, to chase after your boyfriend, who had just texted you an hour ago at most. about how work was going so great.
"you better have a really, really good explanation for this."
to his credit, gojo has the decent sense to look mildly ashamed. pale blue eyes narrow beneath tinted lenses, and he's faintly chewing on the inside of his cheek, "d'you want the long version or the short version? because you gotta' believe me, baby, hear me out –"
something's buzzing, faintly pulsing to the beat of not like us, it's gojo's phone. and he's fumbling through the deep pockets of his slacks. you furiously snap your eyes away from how well they fit, that's so not the point right now, ugh!
"your side chick, hmm?"
gojo looks vaguely offended, rolling his eyes skywards as he unlocks his phone, "hey, we got some attitude today, pretty. why's that?"
you cross your arms over oscar de la renta, sheer panels stitched to mimic stained glass, bless your stylist, truly. "we got some attitude 'cause my boyfriend told me he was busy with work, and had to teach class. dropped me off at the airport, even."
gojo sighs, teeth kissing his tongue as he clicks, "i am working, believe me. and — oh."
you crunch your heel into the gravel, loose stones that line this back passage behind the carpet and the theatre, "what's oh? 'toru?"
"promise not to get mad?" gojo's murmuring, tilting his dim phone screen around. it's a screenshot of a headline, barely a minute old. the photo? you, here, right now. wagging a stern finger at gojo, who's throwing his hands up in disbelief.
STAR FLEES RED CARPET TO RENDEZVOUS WITH MYSTERY MAN? BOYFRIEND, OR SOMETHING MORE?
the tagline follows, some blithe words about how you're prioritising a man in the shadows, over a shining career? over a golden gramophone clutched in your hand, lights sparkling your name on stage. you hiss at the ridiculous amount of shares and comments already, "oh, come on."
"we're so screwed, baby," gojo sighs, rubbing his temple, swiping away at a quick notification from stoic lookin' blonde who doesn't even crack a smile in his profile photo, kento? huh, you've never met a kento.
you sigh, feeling the headache oncoming at the mere thought of your manager furiously scouring the theatre for you, "we?"
gojo scowls, shoving his phone away, "hey, i have people to answer to as well. last thing i need is a public image."
what an odd sentiment, you privately wonder. gojo is wealthy, stupidly so. you're certain of that. something about old money, his family stretches back generations on some beautiful estate. but he's a high school teacher. you've seen him grade quizzes, seen blurry photos of students in dark jackets and neatly pressed uniforms. a private school on the outskirts of tokyo, sure, but public image?
"since when do high school teachers care about their pr?"
gojo flexes his hands, and your eyes drop. slender fingers that you know like the back of your own hand, fingers you've traced absentmindedly when he's sprawled across your couch, fingers that have curled into the dip of your waist in the quiet hours of the night. long, pale, too elegant for someone as brash as him, tensing now as though he's bracing for impact. he's hesitating, weird, because gojo satoru never hesitates.
well, maybe once. the first time he asked you out, flushed and nigh tripping over himself, looking so damn adorable that you had stomped your loubitons, and said 'yes' just so you could kiss him.
"i need to tell you something, baby."
something cold slides down your spine, and it has nothing to do with the evening chill. the air shifts, thickens, pressing against your skin in a way that makes your pulse gallop. you swallow, tongue suddenly heavy in your mouth at how gojo looks unsettled.
that's what gets you. he's never like this. not even that one time months ago when you caught him unwrapping white bandages from his eyes, headache, he had muttered, fingers gripping some torn, stained bundle of purple and green silk. he had crashed out on your cosmos couch minutes later, surly and morose for the days that followed.
your mind races. his family, it has to be his family. the old-money, aristocratic gojo family, the family that he's never introduced you too. they probably think actresses and pop stars are meant to be ogled at from afar, hardly worthy material to bring home to the estate. your stomach churns, for is that why he showed up here, rumpled and tense, instead of waiting until you got home? is this it, ending things?
your heart's hammering, and you hate this, hate it so bad. how how much you want to cling to him, to stop whatever he's about to say from slipping past his candy-pink lips.
"i'm a sorcerer."
there's a sharp, stabbing pain right behind your eyes.
and you're blinking, slowly, mind whirring. then you laugh, loud. sharp, and far too high-pitched, "god, this is why i love you. you're funny, 'toru. i can't believe you actually had me worried and shit, like –"
"i'm being serious, baby." and that's the thing, isn't it? he seems so, like he believes every word coming out of his mouth. his hands, big and warm, close around yours, and there's something in the way that he clasps you, as though he's pleading, and it makes you freeze.
"swear i would never string you along in something like this," gojo murmurs, "i know it's a lot, but seriously, you can ask me anything. anything, and i'll try to answer. and i wasn't ever sure how i was gonna' tell you, but promise i was waiting for the right time and –"
your boyfriend, bless his beautiful face and questionable judgement, and golden heart, has lost his goddamn mind.
your fingers tighten around his, feeling the scrape of faint callouses and scars, "okay, c'mon. now this is getting a little weird."
"you don't believe me?" and gojo looks, god, he looks devastated. long, white lashes fluttering against icy eyes, earnest in a way that makes your stomach twist.
"babe, you said sorcerer right? like...magic? big pointy hats, and all that shit?"
gojo just nods, a faint flush colouring his cheeks, "jujutsu sorcerer. it's real, like, y'know shoko? remember when we met her at that bar downtown, we went to school together. she can back me up, or –, or, i can take you to the school, or introduce you to –"
"okay, okay!" you pull your hands away, feeling your breath hitch as your pulse pounds in your ears, "satoru, stop. seriously. i don't know what you're trying to do here, but it's really startin' to freak me out."
gojo's jaw tightens, the beautiful and haunting lines of his face hardening. something raw, and something sharp flickers through his eyes, "you think i'm fuckin' with you?" there's something brittle in the low control of his tone, "you think i'd joke about this?
you throw your hands up, bejewelled bvlgari sliding down your digits, "yes, satoru! you joke about everything, sometimes." your heart is erratic now, bile sitting in the back of your throat, "what the fuck are you even sayin', like, magic? that you really want me to believe that you're a wizard?"
"not a wizard, sorcerer."
"oh, my bad," you bite out, lips snapping around disbelieving words, "that just makes so much more sense."
gojo's eyes flare, and he's pressing a thumb and forefinger against the bridge of his defined nose, as though he can feel another one of his migraines creeping up, "god, can you just, — can you just listen to me for once?"
"listen to you?" you laugh, but it's far more of a disbelieving scoff, "listen to yourself, please. satoru, we're halfway across the world right now. i could put my career, my entire future, on hold because i really do love you. and now you're telling me that you — what? fight demons in your free time?"
"curses," gojo mutters, rolling big, blue eyes, as though it makes much of a difference to you.
"oh my god."
gojo's looking at you as though he doesn't even recognise you, like he expected something different, as though you're the one making this hard. his throat is bobbing, adam's apple shifting, and you can see his hands pinch at his sides, "knew you wouldn't believe me," he's muttering, shaking his head of tousled, white hair, "this was jus' stupid, no wonder i never tried this whole time."
"they why do it now?" you throw the words at him, suddenly furious and hurting, because you don't understand why he's pulling this on you, now. "why? like, go on, show me something, then, 'toru! or otherwise this is some insane, insane shit, i can't even – i don't know what you want me to do."
gojo's mouth opens, and then closes. his shoulders droop just slightly, and for a moment, just a brief and flickering moment, he looks far more tired than his twenty-eight years. but a split second passes, and he's exhaling, just stepping back.
"forget it," gojo snaps, voice clipped, "this was a mistake. i got real shit to do, talk to y'afterwards." he's turning, stalking off and pulling his sunglasses away from his face (he rarely does that), as though you're the one that's let him down.
what the fuck? the tell-tale click of a camera rings your ears, followed by a bright flash. great. you need a drink, stat.
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you shouldn't do this. you know you shouldn't do this. and yet, here you are, gripping at gojo's sleek phone, left with you when he disappeared to fuck knows where.
your fingers twitch around the case, like you should just chuck it across the hotel suite and be done with this whole thing. but you don't, you just sit there. the silence pressing in too thick, your manager's tired voice still rattling in your skull.
yes. you have a boyfriend. yes, he showed up tonight. yes, you still love him, even if he's lost his marbles.
you keep that last part to yourself, thumb hesitating over your own phone, resisting the urge to doom scroll your way into some clarity. as though your snark reddit thread is going to have some answers for this mess.
the oscar de la renta is long gone, carefully pried off and zipped away into a smooth, dark bag — leaving you in a slinky ysl number, straight from their summer runway, drumming your fingers along the bejewelled hem as diamonds still glint at your ears. and gojo? nowhere to be found.
you exhale sharply, rolling his phone between your palms before pressing the screen to life. you shouldn't, you never do this. in two years, you've never once felt the need to snoop, nor pry, to check if he was lyin' about anything, because he never gave you a reason to.
but here you are, thumbing in the passcode anyway. it's your birthday, fuck. of course it is. you're staring at the unlocked screen, suddenly still, what the hell are you even looking for? if this was some elaborate joke, some ruse, what would you find? some notes app plan to send you spiralling? but it was the way that gojo satoru had looked, as though he had truly been hurt, and it hadn't seem false at all.
your thumb hesitates, tapping onto the messages. skimming past familiar names, shoko (right, yep), that kento, and something from an okkotsu with a smiling emoticon next to it. your stomach churns at the intrusion, but your curiosity (and desire to break free of the doghouse) presses harder. you press at a read bubble.
yaga we think it's a special grade. could possess a domain. gojo exorcised it. 👍
you're peering at the timestamp, thirty mere minutes before you had torn away from the red carpet, demanding to know why the hell he looked as though he lost the fight with an angry gnome, as though he'd wrestled a ghost in the back alley.
your mouth goes bone dry, 'exorcised.' this clearly isn't a joke, it's far too intricate, too deeply woven into gojo's life for it to be some elaborate prank. you feel vaguely ill, swiping through emails, some from a guy named ijichi, reports full of the kind of gory details you'd expect from a crime documentary. terms like domain expansion, cursed energy and a special grade blur together as you flip onto your side, heels still dangling off the bed, skirt hem riding up.
then, by pure accident, you tap into his camera roll. oh, there's so much of you. soft candid shots, like you laughing into a martini. you, asleep in the passenger seat of his car, caught mid-bite into a croissant that time he took you to paris. a dumb, fond smile tugs at your sparkling lips despite yourself, but then you swipe and —
a video. you press play, praying to the heavens above that there's no mortal punishment for being a nosy ass.
gojo, in that sleek, grey suit that you so adore. he seems to be at some restaurant, on a cruise ship, perhaps? demolishing a banana split with the kind of enthusiasm that most men reserve for their wedding night.
next to him, a pale and dark-haired boy is watching in resigned horror, while the bleary, unfocused lens swivels to a group of more, unfamiliar teenagers. they're all dressed in some form of black-tie wear, rambling about completed missions and gojo-sensei.
sensei, you frown, feeling a thick lump in your throat. they must be his students, the ones from his classes, and the way they're talking to him, laughing and giggling? he's so, so loved. fuck, what had you been missing?
the camera lingers on a girl with a sharp sway of auburn hair, propped with her elbows on the table, in a frilly black dress. there's a pink-haired kid nudging her as she snaps her fingers, something glinting on the table.
nails, like those you'd see at some hardware store. nails that move, without her even touching them once. your stomach twists, and you rewind. once. twice. ten times. watching, staring, trying to catch at how the metal swivels without even brushed against.
sorcery. gojo had said to your face, and you had scoffed. tch', you snap the phone shut and shove it on the soft sheets, something ugly clawing at your throat. nausea, guilt. some form of shame, and exasperation with the man you love for not telling you this earlier.
you fiddle with the diamond hanging from your ear, forlornly glancing at the heavy door, for you want gojo. to say that you're sorry, to say that you're furious he didn't explain this better, to say that you love him, that you want him to be alright, that you need him, that you want —
slam!
the door swings open, no keycard, and no knock. and you near damn jump out of your skin, a rush of heat and cold spiking through you all at once. crawling over your bare arms, legs still glossed and smoothed underneath your little dress.
gojo. gojo, standing there, looking undone. ruffled, and heaving as he drinks the sight of you in. those ever-present sunglasses, those tinted shades that he so favours are gone. and when his eyes flick up to you, you suck in a breath so sharp that it scrapes at your throat.
they glow, electric blue, almost too vibrant to be real, like something pulled straight out of a vivid imagination.
"satoru," you manage, voice pattering away at how his head snaps up at the sound of your voice, catching the way his lips part, something frayed and desperate twisting his expression. the fine cotton of his shirt is streaked with red, and there's a smear of that same crimson shade reaching up his left cheek, stretching up to his ear. like a painter who got impatient with a brush.
"baby," gojo exhales, voice thick, as though he's been holding this in all night, moving towards you, steady, "i shoulda' told you, told you more. need you to believe me, but –"
you press a manicured finger against his lips, "i believe you. satoru, i really do. i'm so sorry, i had no idea and — wait, whose blood is this?"
gojo shudders under your touch, just the slightest tremour, eyes blown wide, "not who," lashes fluttering lower, leaning against you, "what. and it doesn't matter much now."
your boyfriend's searching your face, looking for something, something more intimate, desparate in your expression. his brows pulled together, and mouth parting into a soft oh! when he sees a mirror reflection of his own want.
and then, he's kissing you, and you're kissing him. whining desperately into the press of his lips, suddenly hot for the urge to pull your legs right against that thick bulge that jostles at your thigh. to lean more into the wandering hands that tug at the hem of season ysl.
you're gasping, not protesting as thick hands pull at your thighs. laying you flat against the bed, the finest suite that this hotel has to offer. away from prying eyes, and nosy reporters hoping to catch the who's who of your bedmates. or rather, the singular love of your life.
gojo's chuckling at your expression, "don't worry, baby. won't ruin yer' pretty dress," lips curled into a slow smile, burning a determined path down the arch of your neck, past the low dip of your neckline over your breasts, "want me, baby? wan' this?"
"so bad," you murmur, just giggling as gojo groans, pulling you up so you're splayed out for him, balanced across his thighs. the very tip of your heels digging into his back as you cross your legs to pull him closer, "m'boyfriend's so hot."
gojo whines into your chest, laving blossoming bruises over the skin that you know will give the makeup artists a field day, and it's obvious how needy he is. thick curve of his bulge pressing right up against your core, rutting his hips for some friction as he showers you in attention, worshipping your form. lips coming back to press into yours, laving at your mouth.
"hah, 'toru!" you yelp, adjusting the silky, beaded neckline, "easy on the d-dress. fuck, can't explain that to my s-stylist when you –" you're mewling, your words getting lost in the heat of gojo's panting mouth.
"what'dya take me for, baby?" gojo hums, slick strands clinging to his dewy lips, running broad hands over your waist, "but i gotta' show my girl," and here, he's patting lower over your hips, "some lovin', and some care, heh."
gojo truly fears he may be obsessed with you, just as much as the rest of the world is. but he, well, he's the only one who gets to see you like this, the flesh of your thighs splayed out underneath the hem that's ridden up of that gorgeous number you've got on. throwing your head back for him, just him.
he's sighing, prettily, tapping at your cheek with loving fingers, "can fuck ya' here, right? gonna' do it so good, show y'some other things you've been missin' out on."
you tilt your head, "you already fuck me that good, 'toru." feeling him groan, racking his bulge up against you once more, "never made me miss out on a, hah, a d-damn thing."
gojo looks ravenous, eyes still wide, white lashes framing the pools of vibrant, electric blue, "told ya' about jujutsu, didn't i?" pressing a filthy kiss to your lips once more, "well, heh, just you wait. can use it for plentyyy other things, baby."
your dress is being pushed up, the soft fabric giving little resistance as gojo presses the rough pads of his fingers into your hips. haute couture giving way for gojo to touch as much of you as he can.
"baby," he's whining, jaw slack as he slides a finger over the crevice of your thighs, "prettiest fuckin' thing i've ever seen. love you so bad, it hurts. it really, really does." and how could you not love him back, gojo who's peering at you with dilated, adoring eyes?
"just gonna, yeah, put ya' down there. don't gotta' do much, just lay there, pretty." gojo's pressing you down slowly, gently. further into the mattress, as he slots himself right at the apex of your thighs. slapping at your fingers when you reach for the straps of your heels, "don't," he whines, petulant, "it looks hot. might hafta' get you another pair," bestowing another sweet kiss upon your waiting, swollen lips when you scoff.
"satoru," you purr, carding your polished nails over the man's scalp, threading your fingers through soft, white strands. relishing in how his throat bobs, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling, "said you had some jujutsu, that's the word, right? something to show me? well?"
whatever paper thin resolve had been holding gojo satoru cracks, snapping away as gojo's eyes harden, hand pulling at the bands of your thin, sheer panties. ones clearly meant to flirt, and tease.
the lace waistband gives way with a gutting, sopping tear. and gojo's grinning, wide so sharp canines poke out from underneath cherry lips, rolling the ball of torn fabric up and tucking them away into his pockets, snickering as though he's won his prize, "s-soaked, already?"
you fight the furious blush that colours your cheeks when gojo whistles, low and impressed, laying himself flat on his stomach so your heels are swinging over his shoulders, resting against his back, as he takes in the brazen sight of your swollen folds throbbing, "pretty pussy's always so wet for me, heh." watching clear slick gather from your mound to your entrance, sliding his index finger along your slit, "wanna' taste you, baby."
you know there's little else on this earth that brings as much pleasure as gojo's eager mouth, the way he becomes truly ravenous when he's in between your legs — thighs hooked over his frame. how he always knows the right spots to press his mouth to, where to flatten his tongue against your slick. but now? right now, you want him in you. mouth lolling at the idea of his thick inches stuffin' you so, so full.
gojo latches onto your silence, resting his soft head of white hair against your thigh, batting long lashes up at you from underneath his lidded gaze, "or does my pretty girl want somethin' else, mhm?" the corners of his soft, pink lips quirking upwards in the ghost of a knowing smile.
it's hard to form a decent response when his slender middle finger is teasing over your glimmering slit, making you keen at the slick pop! of your arousal ringing in your ears, "s-satoru! think you, hahh, know what i want, please."
you're not above begging, certainly not when gojo's grinning, as pleased as the cat who got the cream. looming up to unbuckle his fine, leather belt, and hissing when his own hand provides just enough fiction to make his ears blush a hot, deep crimson.
you never, ever grow tired of this sight. the pale flush on gojo's neck trailing down, down further past sinous muscle and soft flesh. past the curl of white hairs on his groin, and to the long, thick curve of his cock that already looks as though it's throbbing.
"wait a sec', baby," gojo breathes, two gentle fingers pushing past your dripping folds to gather some of the translucent slick pooling onto the sheets beneath you. the wet smack! of his hand pumping your arousal over his cock like some lubricant, and the way he's releasing a sharp, serpentine sound at how filthy it all is.
he's teasing you, and it makes you groan. makes you writhe on the bed, desperately hoping that he has some form of mercy on you, bucking your cunt against his rounded, leaking tip that's sliding through your folds, "gonna' show ya' exactly how i hit bullseye each time, baby."
there's that luminous blue light, pulsing from gojo's irises (that you swear have reformed into feral, little hearts). it's a shade of blue so intense, it seems as though he's been carved from the sky itself.
"f-fuck," you whine, feeling the first inch of his thick shaft nudging past your swollen, aching folds, "hngh, 'toru, fuck, 's big." whimpering from the sheer pleasure as gojo chuckles, his warm palms resting on your thighs to swing your legs over his shoulders once more. pressing down into the meanest mating press that you can imagine.
glorious, hot inches rummaging past your gummy walls, exploring every crevice as you're certain his weeping tip must already be kissing that sensitive spot at your cervix, "babe, satoru, fillin' me so good already."
the nasty, acute angle at which he's got you folded is something out of your most lustful dreams, ones where gojo's panting just like he is now, already babbling, "always s'perfect for me, perfect fit, love you baby," that low rumble in gojo's chest quivering as he litters droopy kisses over your cheek, your neck and down your collarbone.
that purr falling from gojo's glossy lips getting louder with each surefire hit that he delivers against your sweet, rough spot, and had you been in a more coherent state, you would have been marvelling at how instantly your boyfriend had managed to hit the bullseye he promised, and you hear him faintly laugh, "called six eyes, baby. gonna' show you allll the ways i can use it, heh."
not able to stop the whimper when you feel the sticky smack of skin against your ass, slamming into you over and over again, "y'got two eyes, though?"
a damn near sob when he begins rolling his hips so sluttily, so he can truly swab at you with the most pleasurable sensation, laughing so pretty with a faint dimple creasing the corner of his mouth, "tch', so much to teach ya', baby. don't worry, we'll cover everything."
"hah, 'toru, satoru, babe," you squeal, the very tips of your manicured nails placing little perfect pricks onto the nape of gojo's flushed neck, "fuckin' me so damn' good." and you know how much your boyfriend likes to be praised, for he's flushing even more, whining as you lock your ankles in the air.
and the pace that he keeps up is nothing short of inhuman, tacking his groin against your sloppy clit until there's tears of relief pooling on your lashes. and it's not like you've ever been left dissatisfied with gojo satoru around, for from the very first night, he's been an expert at leaving you bleary eyed, and hazy with little cupid arrows dancing around your head.
but to be aware of all this, well, it's something different. there's that raw, searing blue gaze that you've never caught before, sending waves of raw pleasure down your spine.
each raspy groan drawn out of gojo is punctuated with the thick slap of his cock against your inner walls, that filthy mess of his pre and your arousal puddling beneath your hips and thighs so, so deliciously.
as though he's committing every inch of you to memory, his girthy shaft bullying fat inches, battering your guts with the most tingly, mind-numbing kisses ever, and he seems to be sipping at your lips, downing his favourite taste (or second favourite, he may claim with a cheeky grin). kissing at your neck, beneath the weight of diamonds that glitter at your flushed ears.
you're trying to shift under the weight pushing you down, parting your thighs to create more space so you can gasp, "h-here, 'toru, please. 'm so close, wanna' cum with you."
and how could gojo satoru not want to propose to you right then and there? visions running through his head, all of you. you, his wife, his love, and the idea of, fuck, little bundles with his white hair cradled in your arms. visions that he's heard you talk about fondly before. already dreaming of that opulent diamond band he saw in that window store front of some luxury flagship store.
and gojo doesn't even realise he's getting caught up in that lovesick haze. nimble fingers rolling over the hood of your throbbing clit, tight circles being traced over the sensitive bud. and how he relishes the sound of your wanton moans falling against his ear, you have to finish, he needs to see it.
six eyes kicking up into overdrive as he angles his aching cock just so, that ghostly, cobalt light finding the exact spot in your pretty, perfect cunt to make you whine and squeal, and gojo feels as though he may have just seen the pearly gates when you quiver, shaking in his hold as you release crashes down on you. you, you, you. falling apart so prettily for him, lashes fluttering shut as you squeeze your eyes, and there's that gorgeous glow that he so loves to admire.
"hah, ah, 'toru!" you dig into his back, feeling up the open dress shirt still hanging from him, "s-sensitive, babe. so, s-soo good, mmph!" moaning at the feeling of gojo bursting, filling you with thick ropes of pearly release, throbbing right at your very core. laughing fondly as he kisses you through his own release, gasping and groaning into your mouth, "baby, fuck, baby, love you sooo much." clearly reluctant to even pull out of you, but enamoured by the sight of viscous, creamy cum leaking of you, practically adoring the filthy sight.
"tsk', i got sloppy with my aim, pretty," gojo hisses, "didn't put it all in ya', wanna try again?"
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you're tucked against gojo's chest, cheek pressed to that expensive cologne that always lingers on him. spicy, clean, with that faint undercurrent of something sweet. his hand is in your hair, raking through it, and he's laughing, laughing as he smooths down your dress, all so fond and unbothered as you scowl.
for you know that tomorrow, everyone's gonna' be demanding answers as to why that brand new little ysl looks as though you crawled through a hedge backwards. black silk all wrinkled, straps coming loose at your shoulders.
speaking of answers...
"satoru?" you murmur, lacing your fingers with his, and gojo just hums in acknowledge, slow and lazy as you sigh, "do you have a kid?"
your boyfriend's freezing, and you feel him stiffen beneath you as he pulls back to stare at you, "what — like a kid kid? like a mini-me?" pink, kiss-stung lips parted as he's blinking, as though he's missing to whatever you've caught on.
"yeah," you mumble, suddenly feeling a lil' silly about it, "i was just, y'know, looking at your phone. swear i wasn't being nosy on purpose, just wanted to see all that sorcerer shit you were talkin' about. and i think i saw something, like a legal doc' with a kid under your name." tapping your chin in thought, "ugh, what was it again? megumi?"
gojo's features shift, that flicker of 'oh shit' that makes you backtrack, "i don't mind, by the way," you blurt, hands up, "not mad or anythin', just, like, wanted to know. since you were tellin' me everything about you, and if you have like a secret child, or two –"
a beat, and then gojo laughs. you can feel the vibrations of the deep rumbles in his chest, that ridiculous cackle that makes your ribs shake against his chest. thick arms locking you tighter against him as he grins, "oh, baby," he's purring, "it's a long story. see, i met this fella' once, toji zenin, this was wayy back when i was in school, and he killed me –"
"what the fuck?"
"i have a lotta' stories like this, don't worry. i'll tell ya' whatever you wanna' know, hah."
2K notes · View notes
luvyeni · 20 days ago
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THE HIGH LIFE 𝕼. ( 02z )
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𝓲𝓲 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒𓈒 ( 박종성 x fem!reader )  ─── ❛ genre ⸝⸝ smut. content warning. rich!enhypen , exotic dancer!reader , threesome , oral ( m ), unprotected sex, double penetration word count. 2.5k 「 req? ⦂ yes/no 」 library  !
synopsis … jay doesn’t mind sharing his new and favorite girl
𝕼 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒 yeni’s note .ᐟ why can’t i ever find a good clear photo of these three … anyways here it is and I hope you like you !
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jake and sunghoon walked through the club ; the different half dressed dancer staring at them with hunger in their eyes; it’s like they could smell the money radiating off of the boys — they could see it too , just by the way they skipped the long line outside.
“the internet was right , jay really outdid himself with this club.” sunghoon eyed up a dancer who just smirked at him walking away. “where is that fucker anyway?” they searched around the club , weaving through all the people. “there he is.” jake pointed , the boy was sitting in vip , surrounded by very beautiful women scrolling through his phone; sunghoon scoffed. “cocky fucking bastard.” they made their way over to the vip section. “did you forget you invited or what?”
jay looked up from him phone ; shooing the dancers away. “go have some fun , make some money.” he said , sending the bouncers waiting in front away. ”you guys are an hour late.” he said , jake and sunghoon sat down. “sorry we have our own businesses to attend to.” sunghoon said. “besides seems like you had enough company to keep you business.” jake smirked. “not like you paid attention to them , how the fuck could you be glued to your phone while surrounded by so many sexy ladies?”
the three current young; rich and trending men sat in the secluded section in the crowded club. “yeah they’re all pretty , they make me tons of money but that’s pretty much it.” he shrugged. “you serious man?” jake took a sip of his drink. “all these pretty girls and not one you’ve taken home to that big lonely apartment of yours?” sunghoon asked not convinced at the words he was hearing. “stop fucking lying.”
he sat back in his seat with a smirk. “well there’s one.” he said , his friends exchanging glances between each other. “only one? well she’s got to be real fucking special to get the park jongseongs undivided attention.” jake said. “are you serious with her?” jay shook his head. “that’s the thing , she’s not looking to date , just a quick fuck here and there.” he said. “and pay her fucking bills probably.” jay didn’t take offense to that , he did pay for your living , but with all the money he had it was nothing to him. “she’s happy and im very , and i like to keep my girls happy.”
“so let’s meet her.” jay raised his hands , calling over one of the dancers. “yes mr. park.” sunghoon rolled his eyes , while jake smirked. “go get yn , tell her to get pretty and come out.” the dancer nodded , walking away. “mr. park? you narcissistic fuckhead.”
meanwhile you sat on the pink couch jay placed in the room you and the rest of the girls got ready in. “you dancing tonight yn?” another dancer asked you. “or are you waiting for jay to get off.” you smirked hearing the condescending tone in her voice. “don't start this today.” hana a bartender that you were friends with said. “let’s be real here , yn is the best dancer here , has the nicest ass and a good pair of tits , if it wasn’t gonna be her than it wasn’t gonna be you.” the door opened with a dancer walking in. “yn you’re working vip tonight for jay and his friends.”
you stood up off the couch , undoing your pink silky robe. “have fun tonight ladies.” you said , staring at the dancer who was red with anger. “maybe when im done with him you can have him , that’s a big maybe and when.” you said , slipping into your heels walking out of the room ; letting them deal with the girls' tantrum , you’ve gotten used to it now ever since the girls figured out the situation you and jay had going on. that’s exactly what it was a situation — you and him had fun and he showered you with gifts, nothing more.
you immediately caught jays eye as you made your way over to the section with a fresh bottle of the most expensive alcohol in your hand that you got when you stopped by the counter. “that’s an expensive bottle.” jay said. “and i guess it was on my dime?” you smiled. “now why would it be on mine?” you sat it in the ice. “you called me out here didn’t you?” you said. “well that’s because i wanted you to meet some friends of mine.” you turned facing the two very attractive men sitting in front of you. “you have very attractive friends.”
“ah don’t make me jealous.” jay said , his arm snaking around your waist pulling you into his lap. “you called me out here to play and i want to play.” you pouted , your eyes trained on sunghoon. “i like that one.” you pointed , sunghoon raised his eyebrow. “me?” he said you nodded. “yeah you.” oh you were snippy , he liked that. “told she’s a handful hoon.” jay rubbed your waist , he allowed you to do what you wanted , but at the end of the day he knew whose bed you’d end up in once the club closed. ”hoon.” you let his name fall from your lips in a sultry tone. “is he paying?” you asked more so him. “i have the money.” jay removed his arm , you stood up walking over to him. “good.”
you sat down right on his lap; his arm came around you to keep you upright. “don’t be so scared , you can look.” you whispered in his ear. “or touch i don’t mind , but that’s gonna cost you extra.” you felt him gripping your side. “princess play nice.” jay said. “i don’t think i want to.” you bit your bottom lip. “she’s a brat jay , i see why you like her so much.” you moved around in his lap , he hissed. “she’s too cute though.” jay said , jake sitting there , he hadn’t said anything since you came over , but you could feel his eyes on you. “is he a little shy?”
you moved to sunghoons other leg , resting your arms on the chair ; you leaned over to him. “thats jake baby.” you smiled. “well jake are you shy?” he shook his head. “no?” you tilted your head to the side. “that’s good , shy men bore me.” jay watched you , a drink in his hand , lure his friends into your sexy but dangerous web. “princess.” he spoke up. “how about we move this to a more private space?” he could see your eyes basically light up , standing up , grabbing your hand. “you guys coming?”
the four of you definitely knew what you were on the moment the door closed to the red room; jay immediately moved your hair to the side , kissing your neck; pulling your straps to your bra down. “you know what to do princess.” the three men stood in front of you; you slowly peeled the very little clothing you had on , a look of hunger and lust in their eyes as your boobs bounced due to the lack of a bra. “fuck , sexy ain’t she?” the two boys nodded; you pulled your panties off , throwing them at jake , leaving your thigh garters and heels on. “don’t just stand there like a bunch of pussies.”
“you know i don’t really like that mouth she has on her.” sunghoon said , he was the first one to walk over to you. “makes you want to shut her up doesn’t it?” jake nodded. “she’s too talkative , let's end that.” jake said , already unbuckling his jeans. “shut her up.” he sat down , freeing himself from his pants , his cock springing up , slapping against his stomach; he was a nice size , thick enough. his tip was read and leaking with precum. “look at her drooling like a slut.”
“suck him off.” jay commanded ; sitting down in the seat watching as you took him into your hand , jerking him off. “fuck.” jake groaned. “so big.” you go face to his cock , your ass in the air giving jay and sunghoon a look at your drenched cunt. “look at that.” jay slapped your ass , you moaned ; jake grabbing the back of your head , pushing your head down on his cock. “look at that wet pussy.” sunghoon chuckled. “drenched like a fucking slut.”
jake had you by your hair , guiding your head up and down on his cock , gagging on it as jay sunk a finger inside you. “gotta stretch this pussy out before we completely ruin it.” you moaned around jakes cock which made him moan. “fu-fuck her throat is so fucking good.”
“she’s ready.” jay pulled his fingers out of your hole. “try and be a little gentle.” he told sunghoon , but the way the boy slapped your ass ; you could tell he was gonna be anything but that. “such a nice fucking ass.” he growled watching it jiggle. “pussy so wet , you’re fucking dripping like a little whore.” you moaned , pulling off of jakes cock with a pop , jerking him off. “are you gonna put it in or are you gonna stand there and slap my ass all night.” you teased , rubbing your ass back on his cock. “fuck.” he groaned , pushing himself right inside you ; you moaned out , taking jake back into your mouth.
“fucking slut just letting me in like that.” sunghoon dug his finger into the flesh of your ass. “pussy was waiting for one of us to fill it.” he moved his hips ; you tried to moan , but your mouth was occupied by jake bucking up into your mouth , the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. “ fuck fuck!” he cursed. “fuck im gonna cum.” jake pushed your head all the way down , his cock twitching as his cum shot from his tip into your throat. “ah fuck , fucking shit!” jake cursed , as you released your mouth. “shit that felt good.” he sighed , throwing his head back , your head was pushed against the couch cushions as sunghoon plowed you from the back.
“ah shit , slutty pussy got wet just from him cumming down your throat.” sunghoon thrusted deep inside you. “fucking nasty slut.” jay stood up from his seat. “pull out.” he said , sunghoon pulled out leaving you wanting more. “you gonna take us both princess , you cool with that?” jay said , you smiled , nodding as you climbed into his lap , your back against his chest. “used to taking more than one cock?” sunghoon said. “don’t think you’ll live up to it?” you bit back , he smirked. “bet.”
“both of you calm down.” you moaned as jay rubbed his cock along your folds , your head dropping back against his shoulder. “both of you are gonna get what you want.” he pushed himself inside you , filling bottoming out. “oh fuck that’s princess , let’s open you up for sunghoons cock.” his fingers coming to your folds pulling your pussy lips apart already being split by his cock. “don’t worry bro she can handle it.” jay said , sunghoon smirked , rubbing his cock along your folds. “not like she had much a choice anyway.”
sunghoon pushed himself inside you ; stretching you open along with jay. “ah fuck!” you screamed as they both moved the same time. “fuck fuck.” both of them moving , one in and one out; you were never not filled , both of them fucking you ; and then jake wasn’t done , coming back over to , slapped his cock on your boobs , rubbing his tip along your nipples. “mmh fuck , such pretty tits.” you tilt your head , taking his tip into your mouth. “fuck.” jay moaned out. “guess she wants her mouth full again.”
you nodded moaning as you bring him back into you mouth. jays hand came up to your boobs, squeezing them as he bucked up into you. “don’t cum.” he whispered in your ear. “you cum when it’s just me and you.” you moaned , nodding. “fuck , im gonna cum.” sunghoon said , pulling out jerking his cock off. “fuck.”
jake also pulled out , his tip pressed against your cheek as he stroked his cock. “down on your knees baby you’re gonna take all of our cum.” you stood up , legs wobbly as get down on your knees , letting them all circle around you jerking off , they all groaned as they came at different times , covering your face with their loads. “look at the slut.” sunghoon said , squeezing his length , milking himself. “covered in cum.” jay looked down at you , bringing his hand up to your cheek , pushing his thumb into your mouth. “good girl.”
jay covered you in his jacket ; letting you lay there while he handled business with them outside. “i really do fucking understand you.” jake said. “i wouldn’t mind taking her home for a few nights too.” jay shook his head. “what she does when i don’t see her is not my business.”
“just know she will always end up back in my bed , spending my dime.”
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©️LUVYENI
930 notes · View notes
lieslab · 2 months ago
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I love you
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꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎
Pairing: Og8 X gn reader
Summary: When the public finds out you're dating your boyfriend, the fans have a lot to say.
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 4.7K
A/N: I have to admit, to whomever requested this, I made this a lot more fluffy and lighthearted than I was originally going to. Some of these are a little more serious than others, but I layered a few jokes in, so I hope it makes you laugh. No matter if you date a k-pop idol or not, some opinions of people are just that; opinions (stupid and irrelevant) Live your best life and do what makes you happy <3
_ _ _
Chan: 
“I could really use some inspiration,” Chan called over his shoulder. “So if you find yourself growing bored or getting cold or-” 
“Not interested,” you mumbled. You took another sip of your drink and continued scrolling through your phone. You didn’t bother to look up when you responded. 
Ever since Dispatch released a photo of you and Chan, the fandom was in shambles. Half of them were defending you and the other half was planning ways to end your life. Chan told you to ignore what people said, but it was about impossible to ignore when your social media accounts were being bombed every few seconds.
Every refresh sent new hate tweets and every time you opened Instagram, you were tagged in more and more photos. You had to turn off your Insta comments because they were flooded with hate. Ever since it happened, you’d been glued to your phone. Every new hate comment was another chip at your heart. 
Chan was sitting at his laptop and working on stringing the vocals of another song together. Most of the song was being arranged by another producer, but he wanted the beginning to sound a certain way. Chains clanked, a certain whistle sounded, and then the bass dropped. 
He’d been working at it for over an hour and he was expecting you to come curl into his lap like you usually did, but as time went on, you stayed behind him on the studio couch. He tried to focus, but it was driving him insane, he just wanted you for five minutes. You were too busy with your nose in your phone to notice. 
He finally shut his laptop, stretched his arms above his head, and he let out a groan. He leaned back and kicked his feet to push him away from the desk. At any time, you’d take notice, rush over, and practically jump on him, but you didn’t. 
He waited five seconds and then ten. Thirty trickled into forty and then he scraped his foot along the floor to face you. “Okay, what’s got you so obsessed that you can’t even look at me? You’ve been on your phone for so long. Did you find someone else to replace me?” 
You finally glanced over at his voice. Your head slightly shook and you hesitated, but clicked your phone off. “I haven’t, but maybe you should find someone else to replace me. The fans are saying that you’re out of my league.” 
“Those that are saying that aren’t my fans. Those are cunts that will-” 
“You can’t call your fans cunts, Chan.” 
“It’s the Aussie way!” 
“It’s the way to get your ass in trouble if management hears you.” 
“And that’s why they’re not here and it’s just us.” He opened his arms and sat back in his chair. “Come here. Come give me the love that I deserve. Let me love you.” 
Your face softened as you stared at him. His hands clinked as he made grabby hands in your direction. “Come on! You know you want me. You want me soooo bad.” 
“You’re a child, I swear.” You let your phone lay, placed your beverage on the coffee table, and headed over to him. 
He giggled, wrapped his arms around your waist, and jerked you onto his lap. You barely had time to understand it before you were straddling his lap. He cooed and squeezed you tightly as he slightly rocked back and forth in the chair. 
“Who’s the cutest of them all? You are. Who’s the prettiest and the best? You are.” 
“You’re talking to me the exact way you talk to Berry.” 
“And that’s why I know that you secretly love it. You always get cuteness aggression when I do that, don’t you?” He reached up and gently squeezed your cheeks in his hands. A baby voice slipped out and his dimpled smile grew. 
You couldn’t help, but burst into laughter as the tip of his nose bumped yours and he gently tickled the sides of your torso.  _ _ _ 
Minho: 
“Are you praying or meditating?” Minho asked as he joined you at the breakfast table. A plate of scrambled eggs and toast was sat down in front of you. “You should finish quickly, preferably before your food gets cold.” 
Your hands were clenched tight and you sat straight up in the wooden chair. Your nostrils flared as you sucked in a deep breath through your nose and let it out through your mouth. Your eyes remained shut as you finally spoke. 
“I’m sending out a message to whatever grand and divine divinity is listening out there.” 
“That’s new for you.” He grabbed a fork and scooped up a pile of yellowed eggs. “So enlighten me, what made you find religion at seven in the morning?” He took the bite and began to chew. 
“May God give me the strength to not tell Minho’s fans to sit on my middle finger and swivel.” 
He stopped chewing and his eyes grew wide. Your own eyes opened and met him. For a brief moment, the two of you held eye contact. It was quickly ruined by Minho’s bubbly laughter turning into a choke. Bits of half-chewed scrambled eggs hit your face and your look of disgust only made him laugh harder. 
He swallowed the remnants, grabbed his napkin, leaned over the table, and wiped the moist bits away. “I’m so sorry, but you shouldn’t have said that while I was chewing. You could have waited until I swallowed.” 
“This is their fault too.” 
“What could they have possibly done to make you so enraged at this early in the morning?” 
“One of your so-called fans went viral on TikTok. Take a guess as to why that was.” Your arms crossed over your chest and you scowled. 
“Why?” 
“Because they lurked on my Instagram and found a post that I posted two years ago. You know how I regularly volunteer at the animal shelter?” He hummed softly. “Well, they found that post and they found the caption where I admitted that I was a dog person!” 
“And?” 
“They’re ripping me to shreds for it! They’re claiming that we’re not compatible because I’m a dog person! Who does that? And they’re all on TikTok like-” Your voice grew high-pitched as you began to mock the comments that you recounted in your head. 
He stared at you and a fond smile appeared on his face. Too engaged in your discourse, you didn’t realize how silly you sounded. You went on and on and on until he stopped you. “Are you done yet?” 
You huffed and threw yourself back in your seat. “Yes. No. Maybe. I don’t know.” 
“Definitely a dog person. If a cat person was in your situation, we just would have posted photos with more cats to piss them off more.” 
“You’re not helping.” 
“I didn’t ever imply I was going to help the situation. That’s called comedy. I might go on Bubble and agree with them. What about that?” 
You glared at him and all he could do was chuckle. Without missing a beat, your middle finger went up. “Sit and swivel.”
“You first, sweetheart.” 
_ _ _ 
Changbin: 
“And you know what they say,” Changbin whispered as his eyes drooped. “A chicken breast a day keeps the muscles swole and slay.” Half asleep, his words turned into utter nonsense. 
Meanwhile, your hands were on your cheeks in the bathroom attached to your bedroom. With the door wide open, you weren’t really paying attention to his words. You were focused on pulling your eyebrows up and pushing your nose down. 
“Changbin?” 
“No, Hyunjin hasn’t bought me my diamond ring yet.” 
“Huh?”
He blinked and jerked upright in bed. His sleepy eyes found you leaning against the bathroom door frame with a frown on your face. “What did you say?” 
“I called your name. Do my facial features look weird to you? Ever since the news broke about us dating, they keep calling me ugly. That’s the one prominent thing they keep commenting on.” 
You glanced back to the bathroom mirror with a deepened frown. “Are my eyebrows the issue?” You stepped back inside, stood to the side, and sighed. A finger brushed down the slope of your nose. “Maybe that’s the issue?” 
“No, Felix, you can’t crawl in my muscles and live inside of them forever.” 
Your eyebrows narrowed as you jerked your head back to the room. Changbin’s head tipped down to his chest and his messy black hair sat in every direction. “What did you say about Felix?” 
He groaned, his head jerked up, and he rubbed his eyes. “What about the fans?” 
“They keep calling me ugly.” 
“WHAT?” He kicked and scrambled, nearly tangling within the blankets trying to get up. The sound of a loud thud sent you running back to the entrance to check on him. 
When you peered around the frame, he was pushing himself off the floor. “No, no, no!” Both of his fingers wagged as he marched in your direction. “I won’t stand for that kind of nonsense! Ugly? Maybe their personalities are ugly and just plain RUDE.” 
“But they keep-” 
“Nuh-uh.” He placed a hand on your hip and spun you around to face the bathroom. “I don’t care what they say. They’re not dating you and that means that their opinions are irrelevant.” 
He bent down and scooped you up. Your arm went behind your head and you allowed him to carry you back to bed. He bent down, pulled down the blankets, and gently laid you down. “The two of us are going to bed because we’re sleepy and you know what?”
“What?” 
“When people are sleepy, the opinions of others start to matter.” He pulled the sheet over you and then a blanket. “We don’t like when that happens, do we?” His head shook. “No we don’t, so we get some sleep.” 
“Are you gentle parenting me, right now?” 
 “Shush.” He patted the top of your forehead fondly and added another blanket. Another blanket was followed by a final blanket and he stood back to take in the scene. 
You were covered up your chin with all the heavy bedding. He nodded, walked towards you, and pressed a soft kiss on your forehead. “And what do we do when we’re sleepy and the opinions of others start to affect us?” 
“We go to sleep, I think.” 
“Do you know why?” 
Your head shook. 
“Because we don’t take criticism from people that we’d never go to for advice. That includes meaningless conversations online from faceless accounts. Sleeping also helps reset the brain, so when we can wake up, we can feel fresh and rejuvenated.” 
“I like that quote.” 
He hummed, walked around the bed, and crawled next to you. A hand shifted beneath your back and he tugged your body against his. “I like that quote too. Now please, go to sleep.” 
“What’d you say earlier about Hyunjin not buying you a ring yet?” 
“Shut up and sleep.” _ _ _ 
Hyunjin: 
“Babe, it’s not that serious.” 
Your heart clenched at the words and you swallowed the hurt in your throat. You stared at the phone in your hand, clicked it off, and gently laid it off to the side. Hyunjin just got home from work and all day, you’d been dealing with the aftermath of your relationship leaking to the public. 
Horrible and terrible things were being said about you. You tried not to let it bother you, but things tended to be taken to heart. A few videos were leaked by fans who stumbled upon you and you and Hyunjin were in an argument over something stupid. The fans caught it on tape and since then, you’d been called a variety of curse words under the sun. 
“Do you think I’m flawed for taking things too seriously?” You asked after a wave of silence broke between you. “Because even your fans agree, just by one video, that I take things too seriously.” 
On the other end of the living room, his face fell. “I didn’t mean it like that. The argument that we were having, they don’t understand that we banter like that all the time. Just because you view life through a different lens, it doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing.” 
He pushed himself from the recliner and headed to your end of the couch. “I’m sorry for acting like it’s nothing. I’ve just learned that most fan discourse is to be ignored. They’re always assuming or seeing things that aren’t really there. It’s an endless void and if you let yourself drown in it, you’ll be miserable.”
“I didn’t consider that you’ve never dealt with issues like this before.” He plopped down beside you and tugged you into his lap. “Whatever they say and whatever stupidity that they come up with, it doesn’t define you. I wouldn’t be with you if I hated you.” 
“Their opinions are irrelevant and a lot of what you’re hearing, it’s anger from their own insecurities. You were meant for me and that’s just how it is. I’m not meant to live a life following the opinions of others and neither are you.” 
“My opinion was the right opinion,” you mumbled. “I just don’t see how they could agree with you over a stupid idea.” 
He playfully scoffed. “Nuh-uh! Mine was the right one.” 
“Who doesn’t like eggplants?” 
He groaned and threw up his hands in disbelief. He shoved you back towards the arm of the couch and threw himself onto his back. “BECAUSE WHY WOULD YOU? Were you born sick?” 
You’d keep fighting him about this topic, not necessarily because you loved eggplants, but because you liked watching his theatrical reactions. 
_ _ _ 
Han: 
“Okay, you’re not talking and it’s really starting to freak me out. What more do you want from me? Honey? You’re not chatting like you usually do.” 
“Yeah, I know.” You shrugged and let yourself relax against the porch swing. The metal frame had a canopy above it and the two of you were enjoying the last tendrils of the setting sun.
Milky pink, soft blue, and a dusting of fireball red swirled around the sky. Han was crisscrossed in his socks while he talked about his day. Usually, you’d be piping in with comments or asking him questions, but today, you just occasionally hummed. 
You focused on the sky and you let your feet gently sway your body back and forth. He continued rambling and rambling and rambling. Usually, the two of you bounced from topic-to-topic, but when you didn’t utter a word after his third story, he frowned. 
“Are you listening to me?” 
“Mmhm.” 
“Then why aren’t you talking? Are you mad at me?” 
Your eyes found his and your head shook. “No, I just thought you might like it better if I was quiet for once. I don’t always need to be saying things and interrupting your conversations. We always change directions and I thought it’d be nice for you to finish a story without you being distracted.” 
“But I love when the conversation diverts elsewhere and we talk about other things before coming back. It’s really fun and I like it.” 
“Do you really or are you just saying that to make me feel better?” 
He pushed himself to sit up and let his legs fall to the ground. “Why would I lie about that?” 
“Your fans think I’m too loud and too much. I guess I got worried that maybe you think that too. I get so happy and excited to talk to you. I don’t mean to be so loud, but I–” 
“Don’t ever apologize for existing loudly. I love knowing you exist and knowing that you want to interact with me. It’s one of my favorite parts of the day, so please never stop.” 
“You mean it?” You whispered softly. 
“With my whole entire heart.” He leaned closer and pressed his lips to yours. Your eyes slipped shut and you let your body relax. When he pulled away, his eyes twinkled beneath the fading rays of sunlight. “Can I do that again?” 
“Do you really have to ask?” 
He grinned and leaned forward to kiss you again. 
_ _ _ 
Felix: 
“Babe! Babe! Babe!” Felix burst into your room beaming. “I did it! I did it! I’m not bronze anymore! I finally got a higher rank!” 
Your eyes widened and you spun around in your gaming chair. On your head, your headphones sat on your ears and your microphone was on. You shot Felix a look of panic and his face fell. “Oh, shit,” he whispered. 
Dating the love of your life was easy, but it was harder when you earned your living by streaming gaming content and Felix was an idol. With such public lives, the two of you weren’t sure how to break the news. Felix wasn’t even sure if his company would allow it, so when he found a significant other, he just never told them. 
Awkwardly, he grimaced and backed out of the room. Your eyes squeezed shut as you internally cursed and spun yourself back to face the ongoing livestream. 
“IS THAT FELIX FROM STRAY KIDS?” 
“If the fans don’t kill you first, jyp will.” 
“Holy FUCK, when did that happen?” 
“And if I said that never happened and the stream glitched?” You laughed nervously and tried to play it off. Your eyes went back to your game and you tried to breathe and not panic, but it wasn’t working. 
It didn’t help that when you glanced over, the chat was being filled with hate. People were fuming about you having a significant other. Others were fans of Stray Kids and they were pissed off that you of all people were dating their favorite idol. 
“So how about we talk about something else? Like how you guys have been doing or literally anything else?” You forced a laugh, but it didn’t help. More and more comments were rolling in. 
When you caught wind of more hatred, you blinked rapidly, trying not to cry. Not to mention, the level you were playing, your character kept dying. Too shaken up by the events, your fingers weren’t as quick as they usually were. 
After about five minutes of torture, the door to your room flung open and caused you to jump. You glanced back over your shoulder to find an angry Felix striding into the room. Before you could stop him, he pulled your chair away from your camera set up. 
“Okay, that’s it, it’s me.” He got on his knees, so he was in the camera frame. “I’d really appreciate it if you wouldn’t be mean to my significant other in the gaming chat. They’ve worked so hard to get to this point and I don’t think it’s fair that you’re making this about me now.”
“Felix, you don’t have to-” 
“Do you know how hard it is to date a gamer when you’re stuck on bronze?” He continued. 
“You should date someone with a real job.” 
Felix read the comment and frowned. Without missing a beat, he responded. “And I think you should get a real life instead of hiding behind a screen with a Skibidi Toilet profile picture.” 
You gently placed a hand on his shoulder, reminding him that he didn’t have to do this. He reached up, gently placed his hand on top of yours, and squeezed you back. He didn’t have to do this, but he wasn’t going to let you deal with the masses alone. 
He thought the Skibidi Toilet meme was stupid, so it felt like knocking down two birds with one stone. 
_ _ _ 
Seungmin: 
“Are you going to take a break anytime soon? You’ve been busy for the past few hours and I told you that I was going to take you out to dinner.” 
“Could you give me another hour?” You glanced up from your spot on the floor. In your hand, a screwdriver and in the other hand, you were holding a shelf of a smaller book shelf that you were trying to put together. 
“Um…” Seungmin’s head tipped and he frowned. “Yeah, I guess. Did you get a burst of inspiration or something? You’ve been working in this room the entire day. You stripped the carpet, you put in those hardwood sections that I told you I’d help you with. Now,” he gestured to the bookshelf, “you’re building furniture.” 
You shrugged, “I just wanted to get our room prepared. It’s harder to move between an apartment and a house if the rooms aren’t ready, so I thought I’d just spend the day fixing it up.” 
“But…” 
“But?” You echoed. 
He wanted to point out your short attention span and tell you that this certainly wasn’t like you. He wanted to ask if you were okay or mentally unwell, but you looked bored by the conversation. Your eyes continued to wander back to the instruction booklet to make sure you were placing pieces together properly. 
“Never mind, just call me when you’re ready and we’ll go.” 
You watched him spin around and leave. Your attention went right back to the bookcase. Ever since you caught wind of his fans calling you lazy, you were forcing yourself to be more self-disciplined. 
Seungmin did it with such ease. Even when he didn’t want to do things, he pushed himself harder. Maybe that meant staying longer to learn a dance or it meant taking extra vocal lessons. Perhaps, it was just spending extra time in the recording booth to nail vocals. Seungmin seemed to get the whole self-perseverance thing, but you were different.  
Tasks were more difficult for you to get through. Having a short attention span didn’t help and oftentimes, you found yourself getting distracted or doing other things. Motivation was hard to come by for you. You were trying to work on self-discipline, but it was a long process. 
You were dubbed lazy by Seungmin’s fans after Seungmin made a light-hearted joke in the interview. He called you a homebody and joked that you were like a lazy cat, constantly curled up somewhere and not doing much. It never truly minded Seungmin and it was just a joke, but when the fandom heard it, they weren’t happy. 
They didn’t understand how someone with so much go could date someone with such little motivation. It worried them and the lighthearted joke rolled into an entire hate train. Comment after comment was plastered on your feed. 
Since then, you were trying to make yourself seem useful. You ignored the short attention span of yours and forced yourself to keep going. This was day one of what you had internally dubbed your new life. 
A shriek a short while later sent Seungmin rushing back to the room you were in. You were there with a hammer and gripping your thumb while you cursed up a storm. He rushed to your side and gently grabbed your hand. 
“Let me see it. What happened?” He pulled your now red and throbbing thumb away from your other fingers. 
All you could do was hiss in pain. It took a few seconds before you could admit that you accidentally slammed your thumb, with the hammer’s head, while driving a nail into the side of the wood. 
“Can you bend it?” Worried eyes found yours. 
“I don’t even want to attempt to do that. It hurts so bad, I wish I was kidding. I can physically feel it swelling up.” 
“Let’s put the restaurant on a rain check right now and let’s get you to the doctor.” 
He pulled you up by your good hand and led you into the living room. It was there that he helped you slip into your shoes and began tying the strings. You watched him with a frown on your face. 
“This is so stupid,” you mumbled, feeling mortified about everything. “Your fans were right and so were you. I have an awful attention span and maybe all I’m really good for is laying around and being lazy.” 
He glanced up at you with a raised eyebrow. “You haven’t seen that your fans are hitting me with hate, have you? You made that joke last week and now I’ve become a failure in their eyes.” 
“I have a lot to say about that, but I think we need to get you to the emergency room. Do you think the doctor will IV you? Maybe if I take a photo of it and ask for prayers, they’ll think you’re dying and then they’ll feel awful.” 
“That’s incredibly petty.” 
“Yeah, well, nobody gets to bully you besides me.” 
_ _ _ 
Jeongin: 
Jeongin’s arms reached out for you and then you dipped down. You ducked away, spun around, and began to talk about your day. Jeongin’s face puckered in displeasure, but he didn’t fight it. 
“How was your day?” You asked once you were finished. 
The two of you arrived home at the same time, just like usual. Your days were polar opposite, but it always led to different conversations. You were pretty stationary at your job, but Jeongin was constantly on the move. 
“It was okay.” He reached out for your hand, but you tugged it away when you saw him reach for it. “The guys and I screwed around like usual. We started to learn a new dance and I think by the end of tomorrow’s practice, we’ll have it fully down.” 
“That sounds amazing. You guys are really good at learning dances so fast. I don’t think I could ever do something that quickly. It takes me a few days to get the dance moves down.” 
He hummed and reached out again, but once more, you ignored his outstretched hand and you side-stepped it. When you did it again, he finally reached out, grabbed your hips, shoved you forward, and then shifted you. When he was finished, you stared at him with wide eyes. 
His hands remained on your hips and he pinned you against a living room stand. Your throat pulsed as you swallowed a loud gulp. His eyes met yours and they narrowed. 
“What?” You finally uttered as you squirmed beneath his gaze. “What are you looking at me like that for? What did I do?”
“Are you playing dumb right now, or are you being serious?” 
“Huh?” “You won’t let me touch you. I’ve tried to grab you a few times and you keep wiggling away, like you don’t want to be touched. Did I do something wrong yesterday?” He gently squeezed your hips. “I don’t know what I did.” 
“You didn’t do anything wrong. I just…” You trailed off, not sure if you should tell him or not. 
“You just what?” 
“That video that leaked the other day, the fans think I’m too clingy. I don’t want to seem like I’m suffocating you. I know that you’re not so huge on skin-to-skin contact, but I also didn’t realize just how much I do it.” 
“I don’t want you to feel like you have to do something just because I like it. You’re allowed to have boundaries in this relationship and if I’m clinging to you and touching you way too much, then I-”
“Don’t finish that sentence.” 
Your words halted immediately. Under the scrutiny of his stare, it was getting harder to stay still. You sucked in a deep breath and his fingers squeezed your hips once more. 
“I know I’m allowed to have boundaries, but I’ve learned to like your touch. I don’t mind it if you’re constantly touching me. If you’re laying on me, curled around my arm, or just holding hands, I’ve learned that I really like it.” 
“Are you sure?” You whispered. “Because truly, if you don’t like it-” 
“I never admit it because of the guys,” he finally admitted. “If I admit that I don’t mind your skinship, the guys will be all over me. It’s already bad enough that the seven of them still view me as a helpless teenager.” 
A smile cracked at your face. “It just means that they love you, Innie.” 
“And I love them, but I also love being grown and being independent. Now enough of that, where’s my hug? My evening kiss? I’ve had a long day and I’d really like to be touched.” 
“Words of a pervert,” you mumbled beneath your breath. 
“What did you just say?”
“Spoken like a true perv-” 
He cut you off by pulling you towards him and connecting your lips.
| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |
Taglist: @lia-linny @straykidsstanforeverandever @seungnishi @stellasays45 @emilyywhyy
Masterlist
Taglist and inbox rules
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rubyarerosies · 5 months ago
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what would lowkeyartist!sukuna do and react if his wife and kids identity was revealed🤨
for dramatics, i feel like the way his family’s identity is revealed is most likely from an inside source. His hair stylist, probably new to his team wouldn’t do it intentionally, he’s probably taking a video and in the background is clear view of you and Sukuna entertaining your son. And so the video spreads and everyone starts to investigate.
Sukuna would most likely not hear about it until you come back from picking up your son from daycare with Toji.
“What happened? Why’re you crying?” you’re huffing, hair is frizzled than how it normally looks, and the gloss over your eyes concern him immensely. He takes your son into his arms, the little boy not knowing about the turmoil his mother is facing while he sleeps. You’re happy he was, because then he wouldn’t be so scared of the crowd that seemed to surround him half and hour ago.
“Your little fan base knows about them now,” Toji spoke up, walking through the door with your sons bag and car seat (you left your car at the daycare, calling Toji to come pick you up so that the fans don’t stalk your car all the way home. Toji most definitely took a different route to your house than usual)
Sukuna stares confused, his hold on his son faltering a little bit, Toji continues, “they were at his daycare, it was a big crowd, Ryomen,”
“Fuck,” he whispers, his arm coming around your shoulder so he could pull you into a soft embrace, he kisses apologies into your hairline, saying he’ll fix this, “go wash up, I’ll go see what I can do,”
The next day he goes live and everyone notices how disappointed, angry, and upset he looks. He’s not in his studio, but a room at his agency. It’s a rough, 15-25 minute video - he’s already planned out what he’s going to say by the help of Toji and his media team (Toji insisted he needed to be professional about this or else it wouldn’t be taken seriously or well - despite his lack of care for how offended the media would be, a voice in his mind reminded him of his family back home)
He thanks everyone for supporting him so far and for giving him the content life he has now, but he firmly admits that he doesn’t like mixing up the two together. “my private life is to not be shown carelessly online, my family is to stay offline,”
He over goes the incident that happened at the day care and affirms that he will be taking legal action against accounts, websites etc that post those videos or photos - “my wife and son are normal people too, I expect everyone to treat them as such or else me and my team will take legal action,”
“I hope you all come understand why I’ve come off offensive right now, my family is very important to me and I’m not afraid to drop this career for them.”
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1d1195 · 6 months ago
Text
Independent
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~10.6k words
From me: I know it's a long one, but it's a one-shot.
Warnings: angst, fluff. I've got about a thousand tropes in this one. Coworker Harry, Roommate Harry, love at first sight, he falls first and harder, one bed if you squint.
Summary: “Go on a date with me,” he groaned.
“Because of the cookies?”
“No! Well, yes. Right now, yes, because of the cookies. But s’not usually because of cookies.”
She laughed. “I don’t date, Harry.”
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Harry was tall, with soft brown locks that begged to have fingers run through them, and cool green eyes that reminded her of the sage green bridesmaid’s dress she wore to one of her friends’ weddings the year before. He wore a dark purple button down with sleeves rolled up revealing a bunch of tattoos on his left arm but only a few on the right. His voice was melodic. Smooth, like he was going to sing her a lullaby and warm like it could toast a marshmallow.
Her group chat with a couple of her office friends had been buzzing the moment Harry took residence at the desk across the aisle and one row ahead of her.
Holy fuck. Val texted. Office eye candy 😍
Do you hear that thundering sound? That’s my heart 😍 Rachel continued.
She smirked at the desks, shaking her head.
Don’t shake your head. Say something! At least you’re single, you have a chance! Val sent the messages in quick succession, making her desk partner, Hunter, look at her curiously each time it vibrated.
“Do you have an emergency?” He asked her.
She shook her head. “Nope,” she smiled. “Not at all.”
*
Harry met her and asked her out on the very first day he started his new job. They both worked in an office. Their desks only a short distance apart while they worked together. He assumed there were no rules against dating as there were several married couples within the office as he quickly found out from the shared last names and wedding photos of his coworkers lining one another’s desks.
It seemed, as long as it didn’t interfere with their work, there was no issue.
Which was fine by Harry.
He was happy to ogle her all day long and he would spoil her rotten outside of work. “Hi, m’Harry,” Harry took his opportunity to introduce himself when everyone else left for their lunch hour and she was finishing something up. Leaving them alone in the office. Harry analyzed her desk as quickly as he could.
Their office was wide open with desks back-to-back nearly identical on either side with a long aisle leading to the office of their boss at the back of the room. Her desk faced the front of the room while Harry’s faced his boss’ office. He was on the opposite side of the room, and he had a great view all day long to watch her profile as she worked. Her hair was half up, her beautiful eyes hidden behind glasses, and her mouth set in concentration as she focused on her tasks. He couldn’t see her whole body, but he watched her pull her sandy colored cardigan around her white shirt multiple times that morning, like she was chilled by the air conditioner. His eyes were drawn to her. Like she was a lighthouse, and he was out at sea. All he wanted to do was watch her, keep an eye on her, and admire how stunning she was.
She had a little plant near her window—a bunch of red poppies wrapped up in a burlap vase, tied with a red bow. He couldn’t tell if it was fake or not, but he suspected it was. There was a picture of a large group of friends right by her monitor where she was off to the side in it, one of her girlfriends had an arm around her. Her stationery was cool tones of blues, greens, and purples. Her handwriting was scribbled on a calendar in front of her and he thought the way she curved her L’s was loopy and pretty beyond belief and he wished he had one in his name just to see how it looked. But it made him want to know how she would write his name anyway. There was a date at the end of September that was marked with a heart and he wondered why. Was it an anniversary? A birthday? Or the day her favorite movie came out?
A book sat on the windowsill, and he wondered when she had the time to read it during the day or maybe it was a security blanket kind of thing. There were two paper trays stacked on top of one another to organize her work and sticky notes all over her monitor and desk with ideas, reminders, and even a couple that said things like, “we love you” and “you’re so sweet.”
“Hi, Harry,” she smiled up at him to introduce herself. “Welcome to the team, are you having a good first day?”
He nodded, smiled a little brighter and dove right in. “I think m’in love with you,” she released a laugh that was so unbelievably beautiful Harry thought it sealed the deal. “I wouldn’t laugh, kitten. M’serious,” he frowned with faux sadness. He knew he was being a tad bit ridiculous. Maybe it wasn’t right to say it while they were alone, but he didn’t want to say it in front of everyone either. Hopefully he could convince her he was harmless, even if what he said was true.
Her cheeks reddened and she smiled. “That’s... very forward,” she reminded him. “And you don’t know me.”
“I know,” he rubbed the back of his head. “I was going t’hold off on saying it until tomorrow, but m’unable t’contain it. You’re very beautiful and everyone seems t’go t’you when they need help, so I imagine you’re a lovely person,” he pointed at the sticky note that said we love you once more. She snickered again and looked away covering one cheek with her hand. “M’going t’go t’lunch before I embarrass myself further, but I jus’ wanted to tell you,” he shrugged, stuffed his hands in his pockets and turned toward the exit.
“Nice meeting you Harry,” she called after him a smile on her lips.
He grinned and turned briefly to wave before he exited. “Don’t forget t’eat, kitten,” he called.
*
But now that Harry admitted he was in love with her, she couldn’t help but feel like she was being watched while she worked. Her eyes darted to his side of the room often trying to see if he was staring at her. He wasn’t each time which only made her feel guilty and worse. Maybe her standoffish disposition deterred him rapidly. It was probably for the best, anyway. For a lot of reasons.
Was it disappointment she was feeling from his lack of attention? That didn’t seem right.
“Harry!” Val called from behind her. “Are you enjoying your first day?”
“Immensely,” did his eyes drift over to her and her desk? She stared at her screen pretending to work while she listened.
“Did you just move to town?” Rachel was much further towards the front of the room. He turned to give her his full attention. It made her heart skip a beat with how kind it was. His politeness was a massive turn on.
Even if she wasn’t going to let herself admire Harry from across the way just because they worked together.
“I did, m’actually looking for a place t’live if y’know of any places. M’at a hotel until m’on m’feet.”
Her heart started beating about two hundred times a minute because she knew what was going to happen before it did. She could feel the bubbling excitement from her friends on either end of the room. “Mary Poppins has a room!” Rachel shouted.
Her cheeks turned bright red.
“Her roommate just moved in with her boyfriend like last week! How perfect is that, Mary? You were all worried about finding a normal roommate. I even did his background check, so I know he’s good to go!”
Harry chuckled. “Um... who’s Mary Poppins?”
The whole office giggled. “Miss Poppins, did you not introduce yourself?” Someone else called. Hunter snickered across from her and she glared at him.
This was mortifying. Wasn’t this supposed to be a mortifying day for Harry? His first day and all? How come she was being teased? She took a deep breath and turned from her monitor to make direct eye contact with Harry who was already looking at her. Like he knew exactly who Mary Poppins was without his coworkers needing to tell him. “It’s a two-bedroom apartment. One bath. There’s a nice kitchen, all new appliances.”
Harry’s jaw dropped as she spoke. Like he was surprised it really was her. “Val looks like she’s going to bounce out of her seat,” Hunter smirked as he whispered under his breath to her while she tried not to panic at the thought of living with someone so unbelievably attractive and just admitted he was in love with her.
“Tell him about your living room!” Val sounded like she was bouncing.
“Water’s included.”
“She’s the cutest interior designer. It’s so homey it feels like a warm hug when you walk in. Like living with a rom-com character,” Rachel continued.
“Rent would be about twelve hundred,” she ignored her so-called friends.
“She bakes something once a week too, so it always smells like sugar and Christmas. It’s seriously the coziest place I’ve ever been,” Val kept going.
“In-unit washer and dryer.”
“Then she brings whatever she makes for all of us here to devour. It’s incredible,” Rachel’s sentiment was answered with a hum of agreement from the rest of her coworkers. She even heard someone say remember her apple turnover pastries?
“You get your own parking spot,” she tilted her head and looked at the ceiling to see if there was anything else she had forgotten. “I think that’s it,” she met Harry’s eyes once more, holding his gaze briefly before she turned back to her monitor.
“Harry you should totally move in, you will fall in love with the place.”
“M’sure I would,” he chuckled. “Could I see it sometime?” He asked. His attention never strayed from her face. She could sense his gaze on the side of her cheek the whole time her friends embarrassed the crap out of her. “Whenever you’re free. Doesn’t have t’be today.”
“Today’s fine!” Rachel assured him. “She doesn’t do anything on Mondays.”
She rolled her eyes. “Today is fine,” she repeated and smiled sweetly. She scribbled on a sticky note and headed to his desk to drop the address off with him. Then she made her way toward the restroom because she needed to get out of the room. Needed away from everyone teasing her good-naturedly.
But mostly so she could keep herself from telling Harry that she was quite, very possibly, in love with him as well.
*
True to her friends’ words, the place was cozy as hell. There was a basket of throw blankets next to a sofa that looked like it was comfier than his bed currently in his storage unit. Artwork dotted the walls, board games stowed below her TV, and curtains pulled back from the windows letting in the afternoon sunlight. It felt like a home.
There were three boxes in the middle of the living room between the coffee table and the TV, but it was otherwise spotless. “You’re very clean.”
She nodded. “I know, I’m sorry.”
He chuckled. “Y’don’t need t’apologize,” he put his hands in his pockets, so he didn’t do something crazy like hold her hand.
“I don’t want you to think I’m crazy, is all. You can be... messy... I won’t have a freak out or anything. Unless you leave food in the sink then we get bugs. Then I’ll be kind of freaked out.”
He laughed. “I wouldn’t do that. I like t’think m’pretty clean myself,” he assured her. “I also...” he took a deep breath and rubbed the back of his head. “Y’friends kinda put y’on the spot. I know what I admitted at lunch was kinda out of... out of the blue,” he bit his lip. “Y’don’t have t’feel obligated t’house me.”
“I don’t,” she promised. “I need a roommate and like Val said,” she shrugged. “She did your background check so I assume you won’t kill me, probably. At least not because you’re a serial killer. Maybe because I’m too clean.”
He shook his head with a smile on his lips making the most adorable dimple dent his cheek. She wanted to stick her tongue in it. “Thank you, m’really appreciative.”
She smiled. “You’re welcome, Harry. Sorry we’ll be around each other a lot.”
That didn’t seem like a bad thing at all. “I think it’ll be okay. We didn’t really talk much today,” he shrugged. “If y’get sick of me, m’sure I can find another place t’live,” he winked.
She rolled her eyes. “Won’t be necessary. But okay,” she sighed. “You can move in whenever,” she grabbed her keys from the breakfast bar where she ate most of her meals and pulled a key off the ring and handed it to him. “I have a second job some nights, but if you give me a heads up, I can help you move your stuff.”
“S’very kind of you, kitten, but y’don’t need t’do that. M’not going t’have all that much stuff. M’friend Louis lives not too far from here. He’ll come help me.”
“Offer stands,” she assured him.
Harry’s eyes scanned the room again and landed on the three boxes once more. “Are those your old roommate’s boxes?” He asked.
She nodded. “Two of them. I’m supposed to bring them to her, but they’re super heavy so I’m like... working up my mental and physical strength to bring them to my car. It’s going to be two trips and I’m just being a little lazy about it.”
“I can bring them down,” he grabbed one. It was definitely heavy. It was evident Harry had defined biceps and triceps practically outlined by the pretty purple button down, but it was manageable for him while a struggle for her. “Still probably two trips,” he nodded.
“Oh, I can take—”
“No, no,” he shook his head. “Don’t want you t’hurt yourself. Let me,” he offered and snagged her car keys off the counter.
“Oh, thank you that’s... thank you,” she swallowed, feeling grateful.
“Not a problem,” he assured her and left immediately.
When he returned after putting the second box in her car to return her keys, she had opened the third box and begun laying out a bunch of fall items to decorate their place. “Do you mind decorations?”
“Of course not,” he smiled. “Can I help?”
She blinked at him and tilted her head. “Um... I can handle it. If you need to pack or go... get dinner or something.”
“M’fine,” he smiled, setting her keys on the counter and glanced around the room. He noted there were hooks screwed into the wall at various points. “Can I hang something for you? M’good for height.”
Harry wasn’t that much taller than her, she was definitely taller than the average woman, but it still meant she needed to drag out a stepstool when she wanted to put up her art and decorations. “That would be awesome,” she nodded. “Thank you.”
“Not a problem, kitten,” he smiled.
*
Harry had a dreamy smile on his face as they talked and got to know one another. He hadn’t brought up that he was in love with her. Nor did he make her feel the least bit uncomfortable. Like it had never happened.
Why did it feel like she was disappointed about the prospect of that?
Maybe he wasn’t in love with her. Maybe the initial reaction of seeing someone roughly the same age as him at work made his senses a bit wild for a moment.
No. She wasn’t disappointed. Everything about Harry being in love with her would be a recipe for disaster and it was for the best that he didn’t fall in love with her.
It was just something a little bit out of the blue to say to the only person who was single in the office. Everyone had a significant other they had met within the office or elsewhere. She was the last single person. The same was true with her friend group as well. Everyone in her life had been paired off except for her.
He was her coworker. He was going to be her roommate.
But right as he left, he sent her heart into a frenzy. They were by the door. She wanted to make sure he got to his car safely even though it was a safe neighborhood. It was just the way she was. “Will you go on a date with me?” He asked.
She stared at him in shock, her lips parting like she was mid-sentence, and he had interrupted. “Seriously?” She giggled reflexively, but her cheeks felt hot. They had a lovely evening together getting to know each other. Harry helped with all the decorations and yes, in its own way it was a bit intimate. But he couldn’t possibly think that it was a good idea to date his roommate.
“Yes,” he nodded.
“Harry, I can’t date my roommate.”
“Pretty sure s’how most rom-coms start,” he smiled. “S’okay. I’ll ask again later. Have a nice night,” he grinned with a wave and walked toward his car. Leaving her jaw slack, as she watched her roommate head off into the night.
*
Harry moved in later that week. He asked her to come with him to his storage unit to see if there was anything she would want in the apartment, but she had pretty much everything. It seemed silly to bring a double of everything when she owned all of it already.
But Harry would forever be grateful and indebted to his sister for her kindness as he watched her examine some of his belongings. One in particular caught her eye making him think that he had won the lottery with how excited she was.
She couldn’t believe Harry had a stand mixer and she was nearly in awe of all the attachments to help bake and cook easier. “I’ve always wanted one of these. They’re so expensive,” she blinked. “How do you have one?”
“M'sister got one when she got married,” he explained. “But she doesn’t bake and said it was taking up space in her kitchen.”
“Can we bring it to the apartment? Do you mind?”
The way her eyes lit up at the sight of it? Pure joy and happiness? Yeah. It was going to the apartment. If he ever moved out, he would probably leave it with her too just so she could always look that happy. “Course. Anything else?”
She looked around the organized storage room sifting through the items in different bins while Harry searched for some of his own trinkets that he thought he would want after his initial move. His room and bathroom items had already been moved in with the help of Louis. “This is stunning,” her voice full of awe once more, grabbing a print from behind a shelf. Harry wasn’t sure where it was from. He thought his mum purchased it to make his old place feel like home. “This would look amazing in the living room.”
“Bring it,” he smiled. She tucked it under her arm and continued searching. Harry grabbed a few more odds and ends and she plucked out a few more things she thought would work with the apartment’s décor and mainly helpful kitchen tools.
“It’s your place too, Harry,” she reminded him. “Is there anything you want there?”
He smiled, shook his head. “Y’seem t’have everything, kitten. M’not picky.”
“I don’t want you to feel like a guest,” she pouted. “Like you should bring these,” she gestured to pictures of his friends and family in a bin. “I can move some of mine to my room so you can put them up.”
He grinned. “Sure,” he shrugged. “If y’think s’what I should do.”
“Alright, could we come back in a few weeks and see if there’s anything else you want once you’re settled a bit?”
“Course.”
They gathered as much as they could, Harry would have to come back for the stand mixer. Harry closed the trunk and moved to open the passenger door for her before her hand fully pulled it out of the way. He waited until she was tucked into the seat safely and he handed her the car keys. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll be here,” she smiled.
“Hey kitten,” he said leaning against the door before he left. “Will y’go on a date with me?”
“Harry,” she laughed the same way she did the last time he asked her. The same way she laughed when he told her he was in love with her. “You can’t be serious!”
“Deadly,” he smiled at the delight on her face. The pretty pink color rising to her cheeks. “Will you?”
“I can’t go on a date with you, Harry,” she looked at him with a bit of sympathetic pity. Like he was ridiculous for asking. Again. Which he was.
“Then I’ll ask again another time,” he shrugged, closed her car door, and headed to get the stand mixer that made her happy.
*
“Hey Poppy, did y’want t’go get lunch with me?” Her eyes didn’t move from her screen. “Poppy,” he repeated. “Poppy,” he sang. She glanced around and realized she was the only one in the room.
“Me?”
He chuckled. “Yes, you.”
Her eyebrows pinched together. “Why did you call me Poppy?”
“Well, m’assuming s’your favorite flower,” it was a safe bet since there was a small bouquet right beside her. “Also, everyone else calls y’Mary, Poppins, or Miss Poppins. Which I still don’t know why, but I wanted t’be different. Want you t’know s’me when y’hear me talking t’you.”
Her heart raced. Harry was utterly adorable. “I see. Sorry,” she smirked.
“Anyway,” he came over to stand by her desk. “Do y’want t’get lunch?”
“Harry, I told you I don’t date.”
“M’not asking as a date. M’asking as your coworker who has never seen y’eat a bite of food while you’re at work. M’asking as your concerned roommate who worries y’don’t eat until y’get home for dinner. And I don’t even want t’think ‘bout how long y’go without eating when you’re at your second job.”
She smiled at his thoughtfulness. “I don’t go out to lunch with everyone,” she explained. “I don’t know if you noticed, but people always seem to need me while I’m here,” she gestured to her desk. “Lunch is the only time I get a minute to myself. And I can get caught up a bit before the afternoon and everyone comes back.”
“Well do you bring lunch?” He asked, his frown deepening still worried she wasn’t eating.
“I do, it’s in the breakroom. I’ll get it in a minute,” she promises. “Go, you’re wasting your lunch hour.”
“Okay,” he sighed. He stopped in the doorway of the entrance to the office. “Hey Poppy,” he smiled.
“Yeah?” She asked without looking up from her screen.
“Now that y’mention it though, will y’go out with me?”
*
At home, Harry took the trash out because he said it was a boy-job and she shouldn’t be out in the dark by a dumpster. It made his skin crawl just to think about it. He made her promise that she wouldn’t take out the trash and he didn’t mind if he had to go out twice in one day. She thought it was ridiculous. But she agreed.
He cleaned up after himself checking with her to see if it was up to her standard. Even though she assured him he didn’t have to meet her standard. His cologne overtook their bathroom, and it was so comforting she took long hot showers at night just to amplify the scent filling her nose. Harry stretched across the sofa and scrolled through various show options but often didn’t find something that piqued his interest. Instead, he would put on some background noise and read on an eReader. His eyebrows pinched together in concentration.
Harry bought groceries and didn’t ask for any money from them. “M’sure you’ll buy stuff too,” he shrugged. Plus, she already had all the cleaning supplies, laundry detergent, dishwasher pods, and the like. Harry hardly had anything useful so buying groceries was the least he could do.
Except the stand mixer. People moaned about her cookies. Harry got to see her make them firsthand and the very scene with an apron around her body, her smile bright as she tested various stages of the dough, it did wonders for Harry. Some kind of nearly pornographic idea that only Harry would think was pornographic. “Will you try one?” She asked, hope in her voice.
Was he supposed to say no to her? Absolutely not. So, he tried one. “Go on a date with me,” he groaned.
“Because of the cookies?”
“No! Well, yes. Right now, yes, because of the cookies. But s’not usually because of cookies.”
She laughed. “I don’t date, Harry.”
He frowned, faking his disappointment (although he was the slightest bit disappointed). “I’ll try again,” he shrugged and took three more cookies from her cooling rack before returning to the sofa to read.
*
“Mary!” Val sang. “Do you have the stain stick?” She called from behind. She opened a drawer, eyes unmoving from her screen and held it out behind her for it to be passed back by her other coworkers. Harry chuckled.
It killed her that she knew his chuckle without looking. “S’impressive,” he murmured quietly. But she could hear it from across the way.
“That’s nothing,” Rachel said from the other end of the room. “Miss Poppins,” she smiled delightedly. “I have a missing button,” she told her.
That was the other drawer, a small little sewing kit to fix a button.
“Hair tie!” Someone called from the other side of the room.
“Lint roller!”
They all called out items and she had every single one.
“Do you have anything stronger to put in this coffee?” Their boss was walking up the aisle and paused at her desk. She smirked, opened the bottom drawer and placed a mini bottle of liquid on the edge of the desk. The whole office laughed as he snatched it and headed to his office. “You’re getting a raise, Poppins,” he called.
Hunter turned to look at Harry. “I gave her the nickname,” he explained.
“I get it,” he chuckled.
“If you need it, chances are she has it.”
“If she doesn’t, she adds it,” Val explained.
Her smile was soft. Harry thought it was sweet how her coworkers adored her. It was clear she was loved by them. Her thoughtfulness was admirable. Harry wondered how he was supposed to top that. No wonder she didn’t want to go out with him. Why would she want to go out with anyone when she was ten times sweeter than anyone she knew?
*
Her best friend Josephine (Joey) was helping her in the bathroom when Harry got home from the gym one Friday evening. “Holy hell you said he was cute, not hot,” she gaped.
“Aw, y’think m’cute, Poppy?” He asked winking at her. Her cheeks flushed red, making it so she didn’t need any of the blush she was putting on her cheeks. He leaned against the doorframe; arms crossed over his chest. He was sweaty and really wanted to get in the shower, but he didn't mind a bit of time to stare at his sweet roommate.
“I should have known. Only a man that uses such high-end cologne would be this hot.”
“Didn’t you buy Matt high-end cologne?”
“Hence why I think he’s so hot,” Joey beamed. Her friend laughed quietly, shaking her head as she finished with her makeup.
“Sorry Harry, we’ll be out of the way in a minute.”
“Take y’time. M’not in a rush.”
“Oh, you should come out!” Joey squealed. “Harry, please! She’s always by herself keeping an eye on us it would be nice to have someone keep her company!”
“Thanks, Mom. I don’t need a babysitter,” she rolled her eyes. “No offense, Harry.”
“S’okay,” he chuckled. “I don’t want t’impose. Plus m’in need of a shower.”
“Don’t let us stop you,” Joey smiled widely gesturing to the shower.
“Can you not?” She rolled her eyes and looked at Harry with apologetic eyes.
He laughed again and shook his head. “Y’can call if y’need something,” he assured her.
“Harry, please come out! You can meet us there!” Joey said again.
She looked at him with a soft smile. A look in her eyes said he wasn’t going to get out of it. Not if he didn’t have a really good reason. But truthfully? He didn’t need a reason to get out of it. Spending time with her outside of work, outside of the apartment, and errands like the grocery store and running to the post office had him excited to see her in another frame of light. Did she let loose? He would love to dance with her. Even if it was only as friends, roommates, fuck as coworkers even. How did she act around her friends versus her coworkers? God, he was obsessed.
“I can wait for you,” she suggested, her voice soft. Harry smiled.
“Thanks, Poppy.”
*
Her eyes scanned for her friends as she sat on a stool at a high top beside Harry. It was like watching a teacher on a field trip counting heads to make sure everyone was still present. The table was littered with drinks all of which she minded just as intently.
Harry just gazed at her as he sipped his drink. He helped as needed pushing drinks toward her friends as they came back from dancing. “Y’don’t dance?”
“Oh...maybe later. I’m not very good,” she admitted. “I like dancing with Joey because she’s worse than me.”
She caught the eye of one of her friends, Hailey, approaching and she reached into her purse strapped around the front of her for something. Harry watched as Hailey made it to her. “Thanks Mary,” she gushed taking the bandage from her and made her way for the bathroom. It was pretty wild she could anticipate whatever her friends needed. It was like at work. Harry was a bit awestruck and looked at her with a surprised expression. She shrugged and continued sipping her drink.
Jaylen was next. Joey’s twin brother; they had the same facial expressions--mainly the smile that Joey had on her face when she suggested Harry shower in front of her and his favorite person.
The same smile appeared on his face and told Harry he was going to say something just as delightful as Joey had said of Harry. Sure enough, Jaylen draped an arm around her and leaned into her ear to whisper something over the sound of the music. She rolled her eyes and shoved him playfully. His face turned serious and he whispered something again.
She frowned. Then reached into her purse again. Out came a tampon which he slid discreetly into his pocket and then she glanced at his outfit twisting her lips to the side in disappointment.
After a brief thought, she pulled her purse over her body and laid it on the table. The long cardigan she wore came off next, leaving her in a black tank top that tucked into her jeans. It hugged her curves like a glove making Harry’s mouth water and he glanced away worried he would look like a creep. He finished his beer before Jaylen grinned and thanked her profusely and walked away. She took a deep breath and put her purse back into position before wrapping one arm in front of he protectively, gripping the front of her shoulder.
“Are y’cold?” He asked.
She shook her head.
But Harry was sitting beside her. He could see the goosebumps on her skin. She selflessly gave her sweater to her friend for whatever reason (Harry wasn’t totally sure, but he suspected it was menstrual related). But she was going to pretend like she wasn’t cold? Harry was definitely in love. In case it wasn’t obvious by the moment he met her. Boldly, Harry reached below her bar stool and tugged it toward him. She jostled a bit but he maintained her balance. Then he draped his arm around her body pulling her toward him further and he couldn’t help but notice she didn’t pull away. She didn’t make a sound and her facial expression didn’t change.
But Harry felt her body relax into his side, her head dipping ever so slightly toward his shoulder. He smiled softly and brought his lips closer to her ear so she could hear. “Y’don’t have t’lie t’me, Poppy. M’your roommate and all. I know y’like the apartment a toasty temperature.”
She smirked and tilted her head up. Their eyes connected, their mouths only two inches apart. “Thank you,” she said kindly.
Harry really enjoyed holding her.
*
At the end of the night, she rounded up her friends ensuring those who said they could drive actually could and if they couldn’t she called for Ubers until everyone was safely on their way home. Jaylen’s girlfriend, Maya, had her green sweater wrapped around her white pants. She thanked her profusely, drunkenly.
Joey and Matt waved goodbye. “Bye Hot Roommate,” Joey called waving to Harry specifically.
“Jesus, Joey,” Matt rolled his eyes. “Nice meeting you Harry,” he called.
Once everyone was gone, she rubbed her hands on her arms to keep the blood flowing and warming her skin. Harry wrapped his arm over her shoulders again and tucked her into his side as they headed for her parked car a couple blocks away. “Go on a date with me," he spoke straight forward. Hoping if he didn't look, it wouldn't seem like as a massive deal--almost like he would trick her into a date.
She elbowed him. “I can’t go out with a coworker, Harry. Or my roommate for that matter.”
He shrugged. “I’ll ask later,” he boldly kissed the top of her head. Fortunately, she didn't seem to mind. Harry was sure to keep that in his head for future reference. He would most definitely be kissing her again. “You’re an extremely sweet girl, Poppy. Selfless, lovely, kind,” he listed. “Whoever y’end up with, m’going t’be very jealous,” he assured her.
She snorted and laughed quietly under her breath. “Thank you, Harry.”
*
For months it continued with similar routines, feelings, and questions. They grew closer as friends. At work he admired her from his desk from across the office. When she didn’t go to lunch, he reminded her to eat and not work too hard. At home, he grumbled that her loophole of taking the trash out in the daytime was not the point of his promise. He still bought groceries each week trying to figure out all the things she enjoyed eating.  
He helped her clean the apartment and when it was getting cooler outside, she asked to join him at the gym. Her outfits were cute and made guys stare at her as she worked out, unbeknownst to her. She asked for help from Harry which made him feel like he won an Olympic medal. His face was smug as the men in the gym finally stopped looking at her. Thinking Harry was lucky enough to be hers.
It made him happy to help her figure out new machines and with her sets of weightlifting (even though she didn’t like it).
Everywhere they went, people ogled her. She was so kind. Little kids would smile at her in grocery store lines and wave like it was a game of peekaboo. Dogs tugged on their leashes hoping to get a pet from her around the loop she ran in the neighborhood. Their elderly next door neighbor tried telling her a hundred times that she had a grandson her age and he would love to date her (that one drove Harry the most crazy).
She had her head leaning in her palm as she watched the stand mixer beat the brownie ingredients like it was the most interesting thing in the world. But Harry was watching her; so he was, in fact, watching the most interesting thing in the world.
He leaned against the wall just beside the kitchen entrance. “Poppy?” He asked. She looked up at him. “Go on a date with me, please," his expression soft.
She was finally getting used to it. She gave herself a lot of credit. It was pretty crazy she hadn’t caved yet. Harry was so lovely. Not to mention attractive. At the gym, his muscles rippled and glistened with sweat. The outline of every abdominal muscle was sinful. It was a miracle she didn’t drop her own weights or fall on the treadmill when she caught sight of him. It drove her crazy that the women there gazed at him longingly; like he was something to eat. But was she really any better?
She smiled, the blush on her cheeks still prominent, but not as deep. She was used to her heart skipping a beat, the butterflies fluttering in her stomach each time he asked. “That's very sweet, Harry. But I don’t date.”
It was six months since he met her when he finally asked. “Why not?”
She shrugged. He thought she wasn’t going to say anything more, so he frowned, sighed, and headed for the living room to get back to his book. “I just don’t date, Harry. I like being friends,” she told him.
He grumbled something about still being friends even if they dated but she either didn’t hear or pretended not to hear. Either way, it was quiet for a few beats. “If I hadn’t told you I was in love with you that first day, would that have changed your answer?”
She giggled and shook her head. “No.”
“Okay,” he shrugged. Ever determined. He smiled widely at her. “I’ll keep asking then.”
*
When she got dressed up for a family wedding and clicked down the hall in heels and a dress that flowed over her like she was the bride (only wearing green of course, not white). Her hair was curled and pinned so prettily Harry thought he was seeing a real angel in the flesh. “Oh, come on, Poppy,” he groaned and covered his eyes with his hand dramatically. “S’not fighting fair,” he frowned.
She grinned, her cheeks warming more than they had in a while. “I look okay?”
“Stunning,” he grumbled. “M’so jealous I won’t get t’dance with you,” he pouted.
She shook her head. “I don’t usually dance at weddings when I go alone,” she explained.
“Well, y’should’ve told me. I would’ve been your date.”
“Harry—”
“Platonic date,” he rolled his eyes. “This is worse than when y’wore that pencil skirt t’work,” he reminded her. She snickered and shook her head while she looked at her phone. She sucked her lip into her mouth and sighed wincing slightly and then turned to her room again. After several minutes she returned in a different dress. She was equally stunning, but she looked a little forlorn. “An outfit change?”
She nodded. “Yeah,” she shrugged. “My sister is wearing green.”
Harry frowned. “So?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I just...” she shrugged. “It’s alright. I like this dress just fine.”
But it wasn’t green. She looked so pretty in green. It complimented her skin tone so perfectly. She looked stunning. Like she was a queen. “But—”
“Seriously, Harry. It’s fine.”
The muted purple dress looked lovely on her as well. But Harry thought the green made her look otherworldly. He wanted the happiness back in her eye. The light that sparked when he complimented her. “Well when can y’wear it?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Season’s almost over for a wintergreen like that,” she shrugged. “Maybe next year.”
Harry frowned. But then he had a wonderful idea to help both her dress and himself. “Go on a date with me, Poppy.”
The smile reappeared on her face, and she shook her head. “I can’t, Harry.”
“Please? Do it for the sake of that dress,” he pleaded. “We don’t even have t’call it a date. An outing. An adventure. Whatever y’want. Y’jus’ need t’wear it before y’can’t.”
She smiled. “Thank you, Harry. But I can’t.”
He sighed. “You’re welcome, Poppy.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow? I’ll steal you a cupcake. I heard they come from this bakery that I love and if it doesn’t make it home to you, then we’re going to have to go there anyway.”
It didn’t replace a date. But he liked the way she smiled. And going to a bakery together was inherently a couple-y thing to do. So he would take what he could get.
“Sure, Poppy. I’d love to.”
*
She didn’t need people. Needing people had only ever broken her heart. She never asked for help ever. Well...only when they were at the gym but that was a safety thing more than anything.
Even when she should have asked.
Harry didn’t notice until he drove her to a house party that her friends didn’t invite her too. She was sleepy, it was obvious. Leggings, oversized sweater. Her hair was braided loosely and falling apart because she had woken in the middle of the night to answer a message. Harry was in the middle of a good book. Unable to put it down when she ventured into the living room. A yawn falling from her lips. Her eyes barely open. It took several questions and repeated convincing to let him drive her since he was awake, and it looked like she was going to pass out while standing.
Harry insisted on coming in even as she told him to stay in the car, but he refused. She found her friends, her voice was soft as she encouraged Jaylen to leave. A little over his limit and Joey and Maya were about just as gone and unable to convince Jaylen to go with them. A guy from across the room made a joke about Mommy coming to save him. As her pugnacious friend made a turn to deal with the offensive person, she stopped him. She was quick, grabbed his arm, and held tight.
When they returned to the apartment she corralled her friends into their sleeping arrangements. Maya and Jaylen in her bed, Joey on the sofa. “Sorry I took your reading spot,” she whispered as she tucked a blanket around Joey. She snagged another blanket and curled into the only other chair in the living room. “Thank you for driving,” she smiled, closing her sleepy eyes.
“You’re gonna sleep there?” He asked. She nodded, barely moving. Like she was already half-way to dreaming. Harry snagged her out of the chair, cradling her and bringing her to his room.
“Harry,” she protested.
“We’re grown adults,” he reminded her. “We can share a bed without it being weird. S’like a hotel room.”
“Harry,” she repeated, her objection evident in her tone. “I can’t—”
“M’not letting y’sleep in a chair or on the floor. So, it’s m’bed or y’aren’t sleeping,” he shrugged.
She sighed. Too tired to oppose any further, thankfully. Harry laid her atop the covers and draped another blanket over her. He went to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and slid beneath his sheets and glanced at the sleeping angel beside him. He smiled. He liked the way she looked in his bed. Liked the way she seemed comfortable and sleepy beside him. His bed felt warm with her beside him. Even though she wasn’t touching him. She smelled good in his room too.
“Night, Harry,” she mumbled.
“Good night, Poppy,” he answered, reached out, squeezed her hand before releasing it so she wouldn’t break a piece of his heart by telling him they shouldn’t.
It was easy to fall asleep with her beside him.
It was even easier to dream of her with her intoxicating presence in his room as well.
*
Harry noticed how drained she seemed when the weather continued to get warmer. Her friends all had birthdays around the same time, and she was a mess of scheduling and reserving birthday dinners and planning things for all of them. Did Harry miss her birthday? He would have to ask. He hoped he didn���t. He hoped her friends would take the time to plan for her the way she did for them.
Work was approaching a busy season, and everyone kept coming to her more and more throughout the day. He could see the anxiety on her face as her growing to-do list looked nearly unmanageable. Harry tried to go to others if he had issues. But every time he asked someone else a question, they called out for Mary Poppins, and she would glance up and look at Harry with a sad smile asking how she could help.
Harry was worried she wasn’t eating her lunch. When everyone else left, her eyes were hidden behind those glasses, her face concentrating and relieved for the reprieve from people calling her name for help with work or needing something like a pen or a screwdriver. Sometimes Harry hated his job. Not because it was difficult. But it seemed like everyone in the office was incompetent. Or weaponizing their incompetence and foisting their tasks onto the lovely woman who would never say no to them.
Her friends did it too. With all the planning and such.
The poor thing looked exhausted. She didn’t join Harry at the gym and her second job seemed like the only time she got to herself. “I miss reading,” she grumbled when she got home late from her shift. She kicked her shoes off and flopped onto the opposite end of the sofa. “My eyes are exhausted though,” she rubbed them for good measure. “I think I would fall asleep if I tried to read. I think I need to wake up earlier and read.”
Harry snorted. “Don’t burn yourself out, Poppy,” he rolled his eyes. “What are y’reading?”
“I’ve been trying t’read this book for months,” she pulled it from the shelf below the coffee table. He had seen it tucked there for a while. He grabbed it from her, skimmed the back of the book, and opened to the first chapter.
Then, he started reading.
Out loud.
“Harry,” she whispered her eyes wide.
“Yeah?” He asked, pointing at the sentence where he stopped and looked at her curiously. “M’starting over, because I want t’know what’s happening,” he smiled. Her face looked so shocked and confused. Sad even. Like she didn’t know what emotion she was supposed to feel.
“You don’t have to—”
He shook his head, and continued reading before she could finish her sentence.
Harry read three chapters before he carried her sleeping self to bed.
*
Something changed in Harry. He almost turned into a stalker. He tracked her movements and routines for a week. He knew most of them. But he really tracked them. The daily ones were easiest. She went for a run in the morning, he followed her lead and didn’t say a word. He went to her favorite coffee shop and paid for her favorite drink for a week’s worth of drinks in advance.
He wished they carpooled, but she was so busy. So he timed his arrival so that he was at the entrance door holding it open for her. When everyone left to get lunch, he heated up her food and brought it to her desk before leaving silently.
One day, there was a note on her dashboard saying she had a full tank of gas. When she arrived home after her second job, she noted her spare car key was on Harry’s key ring. At home, her laundry was in the wash. The shirts she didn’t like to put in the dryer were hung in the bathroom.
Harry could see it. She was cracking. It was the first time someone had done something for her it seemed. The first time someone so selflessly did things for her, anticipated her needs the way she anticipated everyone else’s.
Her throat felt tight as she looked at Harry in the kitchen, making her favorite dinner—a soup that took hours and hours to make.
He didn’t even know it was her birthday that day which made her heart feel sicker than ever.
“Poppy,” he smiled sweetly placing a bowl in front of her exhausted figure.
“Yeah?” She whispered.
If she wasn't so in awe, she would have realized where his tone was. What was coming next. “Go on a date with me, kitten.”
“I can’t.”
“S’not so hard,” he assured her. “You sit across from me and be yourself because m’already in love with you,” he reminded her sweetly. An impish grin on his pretty pink lips. That dimple she wanted to sink her tongue into on display. “I tell y’how stunning y’look, I pay for you t’eat. I feed you a dessert of your choosing that you’re probably too full t’eat and then I can kiss you wherever y’want. Lips, cheek, forehead,” he shrugged. “Then we come home, and I’ll read a chapter of your book. Y’can decide if y’want t’go on a second date.”
She giggled, her cheeks red. “I can’t, Harry,” she looked at him apologetically, but she felt herself melting as much as the soup warmed her insides. It was ridiculous to eat soup in the middle of the summer. But Harry made it for her anyway.
His heart deflated a little. He wasn't kidding. He was definitely in love. He had to be because there was no other way he could explain the feelings he had for her. Someone so thoughtful, so pretty, sweet, and funny.
Harry had asked her out at least a hundred times. Around Christmas, she got her hair cut and he always found her beautiful, but he asked her almost every day following her new hair style for a month straight. Each time she said she couldn't. She didn't date.
For the first time in the near year since he had first asked her, first met her, he realized she said she can’t go on a date with him. She didn’t date. That he was crazy.
Not that she didn’t want to. She didn’t say no.
Hope bloomed inside him.
*
She didn’t need anything. She didn’t need anybody. It was clear someone or maybe many had let her down so many times. He watched her doing everything she could to make this party as nice as humanly possible for Hailey. Not that Hailey didn’t deserve it, but no one had done anything like this for her. Harry only found out it was her birthday after the fact, and he felt like shit for it. Even though she assured him that was one of the best birthdays she ever had.
All he did was make her soup.
She deserved so much more.
It almost seemed too obvious that they hadn’t done anything for her remotely as lovely as she did.
“You’re staring, Styles,” she murmured without looking up from the chair while he lounged on the sofa.
“Go on a date with me,” he smiled.
She blushed, shook her head. “You’re crazy.”
“You haven’t said no.”
"I've said no about a hundred thousand times, Harry," she rolled her eyes.
Why was it now? Why did he want to tell her what he was thinking about the whole situation now? But it was in his chest. He had to say it. Had to tell her.
“No, you’ve never said no,” he shook his head and looked at her head on, while she continued looking at her to do list, her planner. Her poor neglected book waiting to be read by Harry because her tired eyes couldn’t. She looked up at him and smirked. Ready to protest once more, but Harry shook his head again. “I remember everything you've said t'me. I would remember a 'no,' it would probably kill me t’hear y’say, no kitten. Y'call me crazy, y'say y'can’t or that y'don’t date. Never, not once, have y'ever said y'don’t want t'go on a date with me. Nor a flat out no. So m'going t’keep asking until y'say y'don’t want to. Because I think you do want t'go out with me but for some reason y'don't want t'allow yourself t'be happy. T'let someone else in. M'not going t'stop asking. Not until I hear y'say "Harry Styles I would rather die than go on a date with you. I never want to go out with you." Maybe that makes me conceited or creepy. M’sure it does make me crazy. But I don’t care. I want t'go on a date with you. I want t'go on a million dates with you, actually. So m'not giving up until y'call me creepy or y'say y'don’t want to.”
She swallowed like there was something stuck in her throat. Her eyes didn't move from her lap.
"Kitten," he murmured. She didn’t look up. “Poppy,” he whispered. She finally met his green-eyed gaze again. His expression soft, pleading. “Go on a date with me,” his voice was soft. Harry swore his heart stopped beating because if he was wrong, if she really was saying no all those times, he wasn't sure he could ever stop asking her. The idea he would never get to take her out to eat and order her favorite dessert. He wouldn't see a movie and wrap his arm around her shoulders and that was completely unfair. He wanted to offer his jacket to her when it rained and hold her hand while walking through a museum. "Poppy," he repeated.
She bit her lip, her lips opening and closing like she wasn't sure which word was going to pop out. “I can’t,” she whispered. Her eyes looking at him in a way that he could read right through her. They screamed at him, please don’t stop asking me.
As if he could ever. Harry smiled. "Okay," he shrugged, hope and adoration for her flooding him. "I'll ask again tomorrow."
A sad smile graced her face. "You're crazy," she whispered again.
"Only 'bout you, Poppy.”
*
Harry felt like he was getting sick. Probably due to the sweet girl in his apartment who had worn herself so thin and weary that she had inadvertently brought illness home to him. His head was killing him. His pillow was calling for him the way he wished his favorite stubborn woman would call him.
He didn't even know if she was home. But honestly, he was glad. If she knew he was sick, she would dote on him. Even if she was starting to fell unwell. The thoughts of her were never too far from his mind. He would never be too sick, too lost, too far away from her that she could leave his thoughts.
Sleeping was one of his favorite hobbies because he loved to see her in his dreams. Loved to see the unaffected, carefree, beautiful, stubborn woman. The angel that enjoyed affection both giving and receiving.
It was his nightly dream. The one where she snuggled with him, and it was like they had been together twenty years and not zero. The one where he could taste her lips (even if in his dream she tasted like nothing) he knew it was wrong. She probably tasted like chocolate or caramel or something deliriously sweet.
Unfortunately, his phone vibrated below his pillow pulling him from his perfect beautiful dream.
“Harry?”
He squinted at his phone. Head aching, throat sore. Curious as to why he didn’t have the number saved. “Speaking.”
“Oh, thank god,” the voice sighed. “It’s Joey,” she said. “Harry. Something’s wrong. She won’t stop crying and she won’t say anything but your name.”
He leapt out of bed. Illness forgotten even if he was dizzy. His heart thudded like a chorus of drums, and he didn’t even grab shoes as he raced out of his room, snagging his wallet and keys off the counter as he exited the apartment.
He listened to Joey say a few more things. Something about being out at a club. She never left the bar area. There was no way someone had hurt her. But Harry drove through the night with his heart in his throat like someone had hurt her. He wasn’t sure seeing her would even calm him. He knew where Joey lived, fortunately, so he sped as quickly as he could. The ache in his head and his throat was lost behind him along the drive.
He didn’t knock as he hurried barefoot into Joey’s apartment. Matt was coming from the kitchen and making his way down the hall. He looked at Harry sadly as he approached the main room.
“Poppy?” he whispered as he entered the room, her arms wrapped around herself like she was trying to hold herself together. "Kitten," he frowned and knelt in front of her. He picked her face up between his and he scanned her looking for signs of injury. Anxiety was in every inch of his body. But she fell into his arms before he could look any longer. Sobbing harder than when he entered. “M'here. M'here, baby. It’s okay. M'here," he kissed the top of her head, cupping the back of her head with one hand. The other arm winding around her and squeezing her tight to his body. “Oh kitten,” he sighed, sadness coating his voice. His heart ached. Like it was going to snap in half if she cried any longer. “M’sorry, baby. M'here. S’okay. Tell me. Please. I’ll make it better,” he promised.
Her sobs continued, like she was unable to speak. "Harry," she whimpered.
"M'here, Poppy, s'okay," he assured her even if it wasn't. "Baby," he frowned pulling away to look at her her tearful eyes. He tugged her back to his embrace and continued to soothe her. He rubbed his hand up and down her back hoping it was comforting as he hoped it was.
Harry caught Joey's eye, who looked over from the entryway and smiled weakly.
"You good?" She mouthed. Harry nodded and when he glanced back, her friend was gone.
*
Harry kissed the top of her head for the hundredth time. He continued rubbing his hand down her spine. His head was still screaming.
But she was well worth it. Her cheeks were streaked with salt lines. Her eyes puffy and red around the edges. He had pulled her to him so they could snuggle into the corner of the couch. Her body tucked between the back cushion and Harry's body. Like he didn't want anyone to see her if they entered the room.
“Harry?” Her voice was raw.
“Hmm?” He tucked her hair behind her ear and skimmed his fingertip along the same path repeatedly.
“Will you go on a date with me?” She whispered.
He smiled lazily. His heart exploding in his ribcage. “God, Poppy, I don't know. I have t'check m'schedule.” She smacked his chest with no weight behind it. He kissed the top of her head. “I’d take y’right now. Whenever y’want.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Nothing t’be sorry for.”
"I have issues."
"We can work on them together."
"I don't know if you'll..." She trailed off.
"If I'll what?" He brushed his thumb on her cheek.
She took a deep breath. "I love love, Harry. I love watching people get married. I love when people have babies and grow a family. I want to have babies. I love reading romance novels and watching silly rom-coms where you can predict the ending before the movie even starts."
"Sounds pretty romantic and easy, Poppy," he murmured.
She swallowed continuing. "I will do a lot for you because I believe that's the way love is supposed to be. I want to make your life easier, and I want to do things that make you happy because I think happiness and love are in short supply and I want those books and rom-coms to be real."
Harry nodded. "Well—"
"I've never had that. I had a boyfriend for four years and..." she sniffled. "When we broke up, I said that I wouldn't do that again. I wouldn’t devote myself so completely to someone that wouldn't give me half as much. Then I met my next boyfriend and at first, I thought it was right, finally. It was equal. He loved me the right way, I mean. The way I thought I wanted, deserved... But then it was like he got tired of doing things. I don't know. Maybe my love language is acts of service. I don't know. I’m not making sense, I'm sorry. But..." she swallowed. "I broke it off after only two years that time. I just don't think I can be loved the right way... not forever. I don't know. I sound so selfish, don’t I? I don’t know why you want to go out with me so badly. I want someone to love me the way I love them, and I don’t think that’s...fair."
It was why she always had everything. Why she planned and hosted parties. Why she never drank and always took care of her friends. She loved everyone that was lucky to cross paths with her, with her whole, big, beautiful heart.
Harry tilted her chin up. "M’going to love you the right way,” he promised. “M’going to love you the way y’want because that's what y’deserve. If I love you anything less than you deserve then... well... I don't know what, Poppy. If that’s the case m’probably dead because s’the only possible explanation,” she snorted and tears dripped down her cheeks again but not like the night before. “But it's not going to be a problem, kitten. M’going to love you the way your books love. The way a rom-com loves. M’going to love you the way you love everyone that walks into your life. The way you so selflessly devote your kindness to them. M’going to love you the way you love," he promised. “Because s’an honor to love you,” he assured her. “S’an honor to be loved by you.”
She looked away from his gaze, closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to his chest. His throat was aching again. He was really tired, but he would suffer her wrath and frustration of going on about this later. He knew that she would be beside herself knowing he was sick and dealing with her anyway. But where else would he be? "Harry," she whispered finally. He met her eyes the back of his fingers skimming her cheek.
"What, Poppy?"
"Do you love me already?"
"Of course I do."
She sniffled, her face crumpling with relief. Like all of it had been a trick up until then. "Okay," she whispered. “Can we go home?”
“Course, kitten,” he kissed the top of her head and moved slowly to get up from the sofa. All of his muscles ached from sickness and from the awkward but perfect position of holding her all night in the cramped little space.
He held his hand out for her to take as she stood next. “Harry,” she whispered softly.
“Hmm?” He hummed and looked at her with a soft expression that made her stomach flip, her heart skipped a beat. "Yeah, Poppy?"
“I’m in love with you too.”
--
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harrysfolklore · 6 months ago
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the carlos sainz roast
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summary: it's carlos' 30th birthday and what a better way to celebrate it than roasting him. wc: 2.8k
folkie radio: happy birthday to the smooooth operatorrrrr. i hontesly LOVED this idea that randomly popped in my head and writing it was sooo much fun, i hope you like it !
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
Carlos Sainz was turning 30. The big 30.
You wanted to do something special to celebrate it, something out of the ordinary that he would never forget. After spending multiple hours on the internet looking for ideas, a brilliant one came to your mind: A roast.
"So all of you will take turns roasting me? Like making jokes about me?" Carlos asked, looking at you from the couch as you pitched him your idea.
"Exactly, baby, It's going to be so much fun!"
The next few weeks flew by in a whirlwind of preparations. You sent out invitations, coordinated with the other drivers, and gathered embarrassing photos and funny stories about Carlos.
The night of the roast, you transformed your living room into a makeshift comedy club, complete with a small stage and a spotlight. Each driver that arrived at your house complimenting your effort.
As everyone settled into their seats, you stood up and tapped your glass with a spoon to get their attention.
"Welcome, everyone, to the Carlos Sainz Roast!" you announced, catching Carlos's eye and winking at him. "We're all here to celebrate the man, the myth, the legend... the one who always leaves the toothpaste open - Carlos Sainz Jr. on his 30th birthday. And what better way to show our love than by mercilessly making fun of him?"
Laughter rippled through your friends as Carlos playfully rolled his eyes, "Thank you, amor, that's very nice of you."
You playfully blew a kiss his way before speaking again, "Now, before we start, let's remember the rules: keep it funny, keep it respectful, and try to speak slowly so Max can understand." You shot a teasing glance at Verstappen, who grinned and shook his head.
"First up, we have Charles Leclerc, Carlos's teammate and the only person who can make Carlos look slow on a good day. Charles, the floor is yours!"
Charles stood up, straightening his jacket as he approached the makeshift stage. He cleared his throat dramatically, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Thank you for that introduction," Charles began, "You know, when I first heard Carlos was joining Ferrari, I was excited. Finally, someone to make me look good! But then I realized, with his luscious hair and chiseled jaw, he was going to steal all my sponsorship deals. So I had to step up my game."
The room erupted in laughter, Carlos included.
"But seriously," Charles continued, "working with Carlos has been an experience. He's like a Spanish version of Google Maps – always recalculating, never quite sure where he's going, but somehow ends up in the right place eventually. That's why I had no doubt in my mind he was going to find an amazing car to drive next season, my bet was on the Safety Car but he opted for an even slower car, a Williams!"
Everyone erupted in laugh again, making Carlos shake his head with his eyes closed, "That one was low, Leclerc."
Charles took a moment to catch his breath, then added with a grin, “And Carlos, now that you’re 30, you’re officially a veteran in the sport. But don’t worry, no matter how many years go by, you’ll always be the guy who can make a Ferrari look like it's in a constant state of panic. Cheers to you, mate!”
You grinned at Charles as he stepped down, patting Carlos on the shoulder. "Alright, that was pretty good, Charles," you said, "But let's see if Lando can top that. Norris, you're up!"
Lando bounded up to the makeshift stage, his trademark cheeky grin plastered across his face. He adjusted the microphone, clearing his throat dramatically.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't the birthday boy, Carlos 'Smooth Operator' Sainz," Lando began, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You know, when I first met Carlos at McLaren, I thought, 'Wow, this guy's got it all – talent, looks, charm.' Then I realized it was just his hair products messing with my senses."
The crowd burst into laughter, Carlos included, you ran a hand through his famous locks and he gently grabbed it to place a kiss on your palm.
"If I'm being completely honest," Lando continued, "Carlos taught me so much during our time as teammates. Like how to perfectly time a dad joke in team radio, or how to look devastatingly handsome while finishing P7. Essential skills in F1, really."
The room erupted in laughter once again, with Carlos shaking his head in amused disbelief.
"Carlos, you're one of my best friends," Lando's tone softened slightly, "Even if you did spend most of our time together trying to teach me Spanish pickup lines that work about as well as Ferrari's strategy team."
"But I have a girlfriend and you don't, mate. Even with my bad pickup lines." Carlos jabbed, making you throw your head back in laughter.
As the laughter died down, Lando raised his glass. "To Carlos, the man who proves that you can be devastatingly handsome, irritatingly talented, and still somehow likeable. Happy 30th, mate. May your midlife crisis be as smooth as your overtakes."
Lando stepped down from the stage, approaching Carlos who stood up from his seat to give him a hug.
"Love you, mate," you could hear Carlos say, making you smile.
"Next up, we have Fernando Alonso, Carlos's longtime mentor and fellow Spaniard!" you announced, making everybody clap as Fernando took the stage.
"Ah, Carlos. I've known him since he was just a little karting prodigy. Back then, I thought, 'This kid's going places.' Now, 20 years later, I realize I was right – he's gone to every midfield team on the grid!"
The crowd roared with laughter as Fernando continued, "But seriously, I always thought Carlos had potential, and I was right, he's got the potential to be the second-best Sainz in Motorsports!"
Carlos playfully rolled his eyes, taking a sip from his drink.
"But let me tell you something, Carlos," Fernando's tone softened slightly, "You've made all of Spain proud. You've shown that with hard work, talent, and a famous last name, anything is possible in F1. Well, almost anything, winning a championship might still be a stretch!"
As the laughter died down, Fernando raised his glass. "To Carlos Sainz Jr., the man who proves that you can be a great driver, a fan favorite, and still be overshadowed by your dad at family dinners. Feliz cumpleaños, amigo!"
Fernando stepped down from the stage, approaching Carlos who stood up to give him a warm, laughing embrace. As they parted, you stood up to introduce the next roaster.
"Now, let's hear from someone who's known Carlos since their early days in Formula 1. Please welcome to the stage, the reigning world champion and certified cat lover, Max Verstappen!"
Max sauntered up to the stage, he adjusted the mic and grinned at Carlos.
"If it isn't the new old man of the grid," Max began, earning chuckles from the crowd. "You know, Carlos and I go way back to our Toro Rosso days. I remember when we first met, I thought, 'Wow, this guy's got great hair.' Then I realized that's all he's got!" everyone laughed once again, "Back at Toro Rosso, Carlos was always so dedicated. He'd spend hours studying my telemetry, trying to figure out how to be as fast as me. Spoiler alert: he's still trying!"
The crowd roared with laughter, Carlos included, as he playfully threw a napkin at Max.
"But in all seriousness, Carlos," Max continued with a grin, "you've always been one of the most hardworking and determined drivers on the grid. You never give up, no matter how many times you've been dropped by your teams mid season."
Carlos laughed, raising his glass to Max in a mock toast. "Thanks for the reminder, Max."
"Carlos, you're one of the best guys in the paddock. With your resting bitch face and all, you're always there with a helping hand. Even if your driving skills are debatable," he added with a wink. "Happy 30th, mate."
Max stepped down, and Carlos stood up to give him a hug, both of them laughing. You took the mic once more, "Thank you, Max, for that trip down memory lane. Now, let's welcome to the stage a man who's known for his infectious smile and his matchmaking skills. Please give it up for Daniel Ricciardo!"
Daniel bounded onto the stage with his characteristic enthusiasm, flashing his famous grin.
"G'day, everyone! Carlos, mate, happy birthday!" Daniel began, "You know, I've known Carlos for years, but my proudest achievement was introducing him to his lovely girlfriend, YN," you smiled at this, feeling Carlos squeeze your hand, "I thought to myself, 'This bloke needs someone who can put up with his golf obsession and his constant need for mirror checks.' And boy, did I deliver!"
The crowd erupted in laughter, with you and Carlos exchanging amused glances.
"I remember the day I introduced them," Daniel continued, "I told YN, 'Look, he's a great guy, but be prepared for endless conversations about tyre management and the perfect hair product.' Little did I know, she'd be nodding along enthusiastically!"
You playfully rolled your eyes as the audience chuckled.
"But seriously, folks," Daniel's tone softened slightly, "watching these two together is like watching a perfect pit stop - smooth, efficient, and occasionally involves someone getting sprayed with champagne."
Carlos pulled you closer, placing a kiss on your cheek as everyone 'aww'ed.
"Carlos, mate," Daniel concluded, raising his glass, "you've found yourself a keeper. Someone who can navigate your mood swings faster than you navigate Eau Rouge. YN, love, you've got yourself a man who's smoother than a freshly paved track... at least when he's not tripping over his own feet trying to impress you."
Daniel stepped down from the stage, approaching you and Carlos. You both stood up, enveloping him in a group hug, all three of you laughing and thanking him for his words.
"Alright, that was brilliant, Daniel. Now, let’s hear from let's hear from someone who's about to get very familiar with Carlos's driving quirks. Please welcome to the stage, Carlos's new future teammate, Alex Albon!"
Alex strode up to the stage with a playful grin, adjusting the microphone as he faced the audience.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't my new teammate, Carlos Sainz," Alex began, "You know, when I heard Carlos was joining Williams, I thought, 'Great, someone to help push the team forward!' Then I remembered his time at Ferrari and realized he's just as confused about strategy as the rest of us."
The room erupted in laughter, with Carlos good-naturedly shaking his head.
"But seriously, Carlos," Alex continued, "I'm excited to work with you. I mean, who wouldn't want a teammate who's been through more teams than I've had podiums? Toro Rosso, Renault, McLaren, Ferrari... Williams is just the latest stop on the Carlos Sainz World Tour, isn't it?"
Carlos raised his glass in mock salute, chuckling along with the audience.
"I have to say, though, I'm a bit worried," Alex said, feigning concern. "I've seen how competitive you are, Carlos. I just hope you remember that at Williams, we're usually racing against the clock, not other cars. But hey, at least you'll always beat the safety car... probably."
"You know, Carlos, I just realized we have something else in common besides our great hair and questionable career choices. We're both proud members of the 'No Appendix Club'!"
The room burst into laughter, with Carlos nodding in amused agreement.
"That's right, folks," Alex continued, "Carlos and I have both had our appendixes removed. I like to think it makes us more aerodynamic, but let's be honest, in Carlos's case, it's probably just made room for more hair product."
Carlos playfully patted his hair, eliciting more chuckles from the audience.
"But seriously," Alex said, "I suppose this means we're perfectly matched as teammates. We're both down an organ, so when Williams inevitably asks us to give 100%, we can honestly say we're already giving everything we've got - minus an appendix, of course! Happy birthday, teammate, here's to a season of driving a tractor, but at least we'll be together."
Alex stepped down from the stage and approached Carlos, who stood up to give him a hug patting his back.
"Now, let's welcome to the stage a man who needs no introduction, but I'll give him one anyway. Seven-time world champion and fashion icon, Lewis Hamilton!" you said and everyone clapped.
Lewis sauntered up to the stage with his characteristic cool demeanor. "Carlos, my man," he began, "I've got to hand it to you. You've had quite the career. Toro Rosso, Renault, McLaren, Ferrari, next year Williams, it's like you're collecting team merchandise,"Lewis grinned mischievously as he continued, "You know, Carlos, I've got to thank you. You've done such a great job warming up that Ferrari seat for me. It's like you were my personal seat heater all along!"
The crowd roared with laughter as Carlos playfully buried his face in his hands, and you rubbed his back comfortingly while chuckling.
"But seriously," Lewis continued with a grin, "You've made that Ferrari seat look good. I just hope I can live up to your legacy of looking devastatingly handsome while trying to figure out what on earth the pit wall is thinking."
Carlos laughed, shaking his head in mock despair. "Thanks, Lewis. I appreciate the… kind words."
"You know, Carlos, I've always admired your ability to stay positive," Lewis continued his roast, "No matter how many times you've been dropped from teams, you always manage to smile for the cameras. It's like you've mastered the art of looking happy while screaming internally. I'm taking notes mate!"
After a few more jabs Lewis concluded his roast, several other drivers took their turns at the mic, each adding their own flavor to the celebration. George joked about Carlos's infamous beach photos, Pierre told some stories about their Toro Rosso days and even Oscar joked about being surprised about being invited since him and Carlos always push each other off the track.
Finally, it was your turn. You stood up, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness as you approached the stage. Carlos looked at you with a huge smile.
"Well, well, well," you began, locking eyes with Carlos, "what can I say about Carlos Sainz that hasn't already been said? He's talented, he's handsome, and he's the only man I know who spends more time on his hair than I do."
The room filled with laughter as Carlos nodded in mock pride.
"But seriously, living with Carlos is an adventure," you continued, "He's always talking about smooth operations, but let me tell you, there's nothing smooth about the way he leaves his socks all over the house. It's like living in a minefield of sweaty foot prisons."
Carlos threw his head back in laughter along with the rest of the guests.
"And don't even get me started on his competitiveness. Everything's a race with this guy. Brushing teeth? Race. Getting dressed? Race. I'm surprised he hasn't tried to overtake me in bed yet!"
The room erupted in cheers and wolf whistles as Carlos turned a shade of red.
"But in all seriousness," your voice softened, "Carlos, you're the most incredible person I know. You're kind, passionate, and you never give up, whether it's on the track or trying to convince me that paella is a breakfast food."
You raised your glass, "To Carlos, the love of my life and the smoothest operator I know. Happy 30th birthday, mi amor. May your future be as bright as your smile and your pit stops be faster than your hair routine."
As you finished, Carlos stood up, his eyes shining with laughter and love. He pulled you into a tight embrace as the room filled with applause and cheers.
"I love you so much," he whispered into your ear, kissing your temple softly.
"Well, folks, I think we've successfully roasted Carlos to a crisp," you said with a grin. "But before we wrap up, I think it's only fair that the birthday boy gets a chance to respond. Carlos, amor, the floor is yours!"
"Wow," he began, his accent thicker than usual, "I'm not sure whether to feel honored or insulted. But I guess that's the point of a roast, right?" He paused as chuckles rippled through the room. "First off, I want to thank all of you for being here. It means a lot that you'd all take time out of your busy schedules to come and insult me."
Carlos thanked each of his friends with a blend of humor and sincerity, making everyone laugh. He playfully teased Charles about making him look good on track, jested with Lando about the success of his Spanish pickup lines with you, and expressed gratitude to Fernando for his mentorship while vowing to become the best Sainz in motorsports.
"And finally, to my beautiful girlfriend," Carlos's voice softened as he looked at you, "Thank you for organizing this amazing night, and for putting up with me every day. You're the real smooth operator here."
The room erupted in cheers and applause as Carlos stepped down from the stage. You met him halfway, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug once again.
"Happy birthday, amor," you whispered in his ear, pulling away to kiss him softly.
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cherryxbooo · 2 months ago
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I’ll do anything to make you happy
Summary: You were excited for winter break to start because it meant one thing: spending more time with Lando. But little did you know, that was the one thing you wouldn't be getting.
Reader x Lando Norris
Genre: fluff/angst
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Winter always held a special kind of charm for me.
The frosty mornings, cozy blankets, and steaming cups of cocoa had always made this season my favorite.
But this year, it held a different promise: Lando finally had a break from racing.
After months of hectic schedules, jet-setting across the globe, and stolen moments in between races, I was looking forward to having him all to myself.
At first, it was everything I’d imagined and more.
We spent lazy mornings tangled in bed, with me teasing him about his messy hair while he pulled me closer, claiming I was his personal heater.
Breakfasts turned into brunches because we couldn’t stop talking or joking around.
We watched movies, baked cookies that turned out terrible, and played endless rounds of Mario Kart, which I always managed to win.
“You’re only winning because I’m letting you,” Lando said one evening, his grin teasing as he tossed the controller onto the couch.
“Sure you are,” I replied, laughing as I grabbed my victory snack from the table.
Those first few days felt like we were in our own little world, where nothing else mattered but us.
But soon, reality began creeping in.
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It started innocently enough.
“Babe, Max just called,” Lando said one morning, leaning against the counter with his coffee mug in hand.
“He’s organizing a karting session. Shouldn’t take long.”
I smiled, my heart swelling with pride.
Racing was his passion, and I loved seeing him happy. “Go have fun. Just don’t let him beat you.”
“Never,” he said with a wink, kissing my temple quickly before heading out.
That day, I didn’t mind the quiet. I worked on some projects, caught up with friends, and even took a long bath.
By the time he got home, his cheeks were flushed with cold, and he couldn’t stop talking about how much fun he’d had.
But karting soon turned into golf.
Golf turned into poker nights. And poker nights turned into outings that stretched late into the night.
“I’ll be back soon,” he’d text, always with a heart emoji. But “soon” became later and later each time.
I told myself it was fine. He deserved this break.
He’d worked so hard all year, and if spending time with his friends helped him unwind, who was I to complain?
But as the days wore on, the house began to feel emptier, and so did I.
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One evening, I decided to surprise him with his favorite dinner.
I spent hours in the kitchen, setting the table with candles and dimming the lights for a cozy atmosphere.
When Lando walked through the door, his expression softened as he took in the setup.
“You didn’t have to do all this,” he said, wrapping his arms around me.
“I wanted to,” I replied, smiling up at him.
“You’ve been so busy, and I thought it’d be nice to have a quiet night together.”
“That’s so sweet,” he said, leaning down to kiss me.
“But the guys are waiting for me. I promised I’d meet them for drinks tonight. Let’s rain check this?”
My smile faltered, but I nodded. “Of course.”
He kissed me again and was out the door before I could say anything more.
I sat down at the table, staring at the empty chair across from me.
The candles flickered, their light reflecting off the untouched plates. I took a deep breath, telling myself it was okay.
But deep down, a tiny crack had formed in my heart.
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Days turned into weeks, and the cracks only deepened.
Lando’s absence became more noticeable, and I began to feel like a ghost in our own home.
One evening, after scrolling through endless photos of him with his friends on Instagram, I called Mia, my best friend.
“What’s wrong?” she asked the moment she picked up.
I sighed, the weight of my emotions pressing down on me.
“It’s Lando. He’s been spending so much time with his friends lately, and I feel like I’m… invisible.”
Mia was quiet for a moment before saying, “Y/N, you’re not invisible. But you need to talk to him. He’s not a mind reader.”
“I don’t want to seem clingy,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
“You’re not clingy. You’re his girlfriend. He should want to spend time with you. Talk to him.”
Her words gave me the push I needed. That night, when Lando came home, I gathered my courage.
“Can we talk?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.
“Of course,” he said, sitting down next to me.
I took a deep breath.
“I’ve been feeling… neglected lately. I know you’re enjoying your break, and I want you to have fun, but I miss us. I miss you.”
He frowned, reaching for my hand.
“Babe, I’m sorry if it feels that way. But I’m here now, aren’t I?”
I nodded, but his words didn’t ease the ache in my chest. Before I could say more, he kissed me and stood up.
“Max needs help with something,” he said, grabbing his keys. “Love you!”
And just like that, he was gone. Again.
I tried my best to push away all negative thoughts until I thought about the positive ones.
Our second anniversary was just days away, and I held onto the hope that he’d make it special.
I told myself the late nights didn’t matter. He was probably planning something incredible for our anniversary.
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The next day,
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft golden hues.
I stretched lazily, a content smile curling my lips as I reached across the bed.
My fingers met cold sheets. The space beside me was empty.
I frowned, the giddy excitement I had woken up with faltering.
Today was our second anniversary.
I had imagined waking up wrapped in Lando’s arms, whispering sleepy “Happy anniversary” wishes before sharing breakfast together.
Instead, he was gone.
I also realized that I hadn't heard him come back last night.
He told me he was just helping Max out with something, but he probably went out partying with his friends afterward, again.
I tried to shake off the disappointment as I climbed out of bed, brushing my hair out of my face.
Maybe he had planned a surprise and needed to step out early.
A flutter of hope lifted my spirits as I grabbed my robe and headed toward the kitchen.
The scent of coffee greeted me, but there was no sign of Lando.
Instead, on the counter, I found a note written in his familiar scrawl:
“Gone golfing with the guys. Be back later. Love you.”
My heart sank. Golfing? On our anniversary?
I swallowed the lump rising in my throat, trying to focus on the fact that he had said he’d be back later.
He wouldn’t forget our dinner, right?
We’d planned this evening together weeks ago, and I’d been looking forward to it ever since.
I folded the note and placed it aside, telling myself not to overthink it. He would be back in time.
He promised.
After a quick breakfast, I set to work preparing for the evening.
My heart thudded with a mix of excitement and nervousness as I laid out my plans.
Lando had been so busy lately, and this was my chance to remind him how much I loved him, despite everything.
I spent hours in the kitchen, cooking all his favorite dishes: his go-to pasta, a roasted chicken dish he always requested, and even the dessert I’d failed at three times before finally perfecting.
The smells of herbs, garlic, and chocolate filled the apartment, making it feel warm and inviting.
Between stirring pots and chopping vegetables, I took breaks to set up the dining table.
I draped it with a soft cream tablecloth, adding candles and a scattering of rose petals for a romantic touch.
Fairy lights hung along the walls, casting a cozy glow that made the space feel magical.
On the counter, I carefully placed his gift, a sleek watch he had admired months ago but never bought for himself.
Not forgetting to attach a handwritten note to the box.
With everything ready, I checked the clock.
It was almost evening. So I had to hurry up to get ready.
I slipped into the dress I had chosen weeks ago, a soft, fitted number I knew he loved on me.
My makeup was simple yet elegant, and I added the finishing touch, a spritz of the perfume Lando had gifted me for my last birthday.
I felt beautiful, excited, and nervous all at once as I sat on the couch, watching the clock.
Five minutes passed. Then ten.
By the time twenty minutes had gone by, I grabbed my phone, texting him a quick, “Hey, are you on your way?”
No response.
An hour later, I texted again. Then called. Still nothing.
My excitement turned into a gnawing worry that sat heavy in my chest.
Where was he? Had he forgotten?
Two hours passed.
The candles on the table had burned down halfway, their flickering flames reflecting off the now-cold plates of food.
The fairy lights, once magical, now felt like mockery.
Finally, three hours later, I gave up.
Tears stung my eyes as I blew out the candles, packed away the food, and removed my dress, exchanging it for soft pajamas.
My makeup was smeared with tears by the time I climbed into bed.
I grabbed my phone one last time, and my heart shattered when I saw the Instagram story.
It was one of Lando’s friends, showing a clip of him laughing, drink in hand, surrounded by his friends.
He looked happy. Carefree.
And completely oblivious that tonight was our anniversary.
The tears came faster, hot and uncontrollable. I buried my face in the pillow, the ache in my chest overwhelming.
I had been so sure he’d come back, that he’d remember. But I was wrong.
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Later that night,
The apartment was cloaked in silence when Lando opened the front door, the click of the lock echoing faintly in the stillness.
He stumbled inside the weight of exhaustion and faint traces of guilt tugging at his chest.
The soft glow of the streetlights outside illuminated the darkened space just enough for him to make out his surroundings.
Something felt… off.
He reached for the light switch, and as the room was bathed in warm light, his eyes landed on the dining table across from him.
He froze.
The table was beautifully decorated, candles placed strategically, now melted into small stubs, surrounded by rose petals that had been artfully scattered.
Plates of food were neatly covered with lids to keep them from going bad, but even from a distance, Lando could tell they were his favorites.
He took a tentative step forward, his stomach sinking further with each movement.
Resting near the center of the table was a small, wrapped box with a note attached to it.
The sight made his chest tighten, a creeping realization clawing at the edges of his mind.
His fingers trembled as he picked up the note. Unfolding it carefully, he read the words in her familiar handwriting:
"To my Lando, the best thing that ever happened to me. Thank you for being my partner, my love, my everything. Happy anniversary, baby. Love, Y/N."
The words hit him like a punch to the gut. His heart sank as the full weight of the evening’s significance crashed over him.
Anniversary. He’d forgotten their second anniversary.
Lando stood there, the note still clutched in his hand, his throat tightening as shame washed over him.
He thought back to the past few weeks, to the times he’d brushed you off or come home late without so much as an explanation.
He couldn’t even recall the last time you two spent real, quality time together.
You had tried to talk to him about it, about how you felt neglected, and he had dismissed your concerns every single time.
Now, standing there amidst the evidence of your effort and love, he felt like the worst boyfriend in the world.
Lando exhaled shakily, running a hand through his hair as regret threatened to overwhelm him.
He couldn’t blame anyone but himself.
He glanced around the room, noticing how quiet it was. He knew you were asleep.
His eyes landed on his phone, dead from the night’s events.
With a heavy sigh, he plugged it into the charger, pacing nervously as he waited for it to turn back on.
When it finally lit up, the screen was flooded with notifications, missed calls and unread messages from Y/N.
The time stamps told the story of your evening:
“Hey, are you on your way?” - 8 p.m. “I’m waiting for you… everything’s ready.” -8:30 p.m. “Lando, please call me.” -9 p.m. “Are you okay? I’m starting to worry.” -10 p.m.
The last message was hours old, her tone shifting from hopeful to concerned.
Each notification felt like another jab to his heart, the guilt almost unbearable.
He dropped his phone onto the counter and made his way toward their shared bedroom.
Pushing the door open quietly, he stepped into the dimly lit room.
His gaze immediately found her curled up under the covers, her face half-buried in the pillow.
His breath hitched when he noticed the faint streaks on her cheeks, traces of tears she hadn’t been able to hide.
The sight made his heart clench painfully. She’d cried herself to sleep, and it was his fault.
Lando approached the bed slowly, kneeling beside her as he took in her tear-streaked face.
She looked so peaceful yet so vulnerable, her chest rising and falling softly with each breath.
Guilt swirled in his chest as he reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, thick with regret.
Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, lingering for a moment as if hoping it could somehow convey all the apologies he couldn’t say while she was awake.
His thumb grazed her cheek, and he sighed deeply.
“You didn’t deserve this,” he murmured, his voice breaking.
“I’ve been such an ass… the worst boyfriend. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I love you so much.”
She stirred slightly at his touch but didn’t wake.
Lando watched her for a moment longer before standing, his mind racing with plans to fix what he’d broken.
Tomorrow, he vowed, would be all about her.
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The next morning, I woke up with a dull ache in my chest, my body heavy from the night before.
My eyes were sore and puffy from crying myself to sleep.
I glanced at the empty side of the bed, already prepared for the familiar sting of disappointment.
Figured he’d leave again before I woke up, I thought bitterly.
Dragging myself out of bed, I moved to the bathroom to freshen up.
The cold water on my face didn’t do much to wash away the exhaustion or the emotional weight from the previous night.
With a sigh, I tied my hair back and made my way downstairs, expecting another day of hurt to unfold.
Halfway down the stairs, though, something unusual stopped me in my tracks.
The smell of coffee, rich and inviting, wafted through the air.
There was another scent too, pancakes? My brow furrowed in confusion.
"That can’t be right. Lando doesn’t cook... does he? Who am i kidding he can't even boil eggs."
I cautiously descended the rest of the stairs, each step filling me with equal parts curiosity and hesitation.
As I rounded the corner into the kitchen, I froze at the sight before me.
There he was, standing by the stove, flipping a pancake with a focused but slightly clumsy determination.
Plates of food lined the table, croissants, fresh fruit, juice, and what looked like store-bought pastries.
It didn’t take long to figure out most of the spread wasn’t homemade, but the effort was unmistakably his.
“Morning, love,” Lando greeted me, his tone soft and tentative, his lips curling into a nervous smile.
I raised an eyebrow, my arms crossing instinctively. “What’s all this?”
He put the spatula down and stepped closer, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel.
“It’s breakfast... and an apology,” he said, his voice earnest.
My eyes flickered between him and the spread on the table.
I could see he was trying, but the hurt from last night still lingered like a heavy cloud over my chest.
“Come sit,” he said gently, pulling a chair out for me.
I hesitated for a moment before sitting down, my arms still crossed defensively.
Lando grabbed a plate, placing a pancake in front of me before adding a small pile of fruit and a croissant on the side.
I eyed him suspiciously as he poured me a cup of coffee, then sat across from me.
“What are you doing, Lando?” I asked, my voice tinged with a mix of confusion and frustration.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he met my gaze.
“I messed up, Y/N. Big time. And I need you to know how sorry I am.” His voice was steady but filled with regret.
I stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.
“Last night,” he began, his brows furrowing,
“I forgot our anniversary. I forgot the one day I should’ve been making you feel like the most important person in the world. And it’s not just last night, I’ve been neglecting you for weeks. You told me how you felt, and I brushed it off like an idiot.”
His voice cracked slightly as he spoke, and I could see the weight of his guilt etched into every line on his face.
“I’ve been selfish, caught up in my own world, and I didn’t see how much I was hurting you. You deserve so much better than that, Y/N. Better than me.”
I felt my throat tighten as his words sank in. The sincerity in his tone chipped away at the walls I’d put up.
“I was so hurt, Lando,” I said, my voice trembling.
“I waited for you all night. I planned everything because I thought… I thought you’d come home and we’d celebrate together. I stayed up, hoping you’d walk through that door with a smile, ready to tell me how much you love me. But you didn’t.”
Tears pricked my eyes as I continued.
“I saw that video of you and your friends. You were laughing and having fun while I sat here, alone, on what was supposed to be our night.”
Lando’s face fell, his hands gripping the edge of the table as if grounding himself from the weight of my words.
“I know,” he whispered.
“And I hate myself for it. Seeing what you did for me last night, the decorations, the food, the note. I realized just how much I’ve been taking you for granted. I never want you to feel that way again, Y/N. You’re the most important thing in my life. I need you to believe that.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, sliding it across the table to me.
“What’s this?” I asked, my voice softer now, though my heart still carried the sting of last night.
“Open it,” he urged.
I carefully lifted the lid, revealing a delicate necklace with a sparkling pendant.
The intricate design caught the morning light, making it shimmer.
“Lando…” I trailed off, overwhelmed.
“It’s not enough to make up for what I’ve done,” he said quickly,
“but it’s a start. And today, it’s all about you. Whatever you want to do, wherever you want to go, we’ll do it.”
I stared at the necklace for a moment before meeting his eyes.
“It’s beautiful,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “Thank you.”
“But,” I added, my tone firm, “this doesn’t mean I’ve fully forgiven you yet.”
“I know,” he said, nodding.
“And I don’t expect you to. But I’ll spend every day proving to you how much I care, how much I love you. I won’t stop until you believe me again.”
The determination in his voice made my chest tighten.
I wanted to hold onto my anger, to make him feel the depth of my hurt, but seeing him now, vulnerable, regretful, and desperate to make things right.
I couldn’t help but feel the smallest crack in my resolve.
As the morning unfolded, Lando’s sincerity shone through.
He insisted on clearing the table and cleaning up, stealing small glances at me as if trying to gauge my mood.
I wasn’t ready to let go of all the hurt just yet, but for the first time in weeks, I felt a glimmer of hope.
Maybe, just maybe, we could find our way back to each other.
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The morning's heartfelt apology set the tone for what became one of the most memorable days Lando and I had spent together in weeks.
While I was still guarded, I couldn’t deny that he was trying, really trying, to make things right.
As I got ready to leave the house, he was already by my side, holding my hand, his other arm slung casually around my shoulder.
“I promised today would be all about you,” he said, giving me that signature soft smile.
“So, where to first?”
We started with a trip to the mall. At first, I felt a little awkward, hesitant to fully enjoy the experience.
But Lando was like a lovesick puppy, following me from store to store, holding my bags, and insisting I buy anything that caught my eye.
“Do you like this dress?” I asked, holding up a flowy sundress against myself.
“I love it,” he said without hesitation. “But I’d probably love anything on you.”
I rolled my eyes at his smooth comment but couldn’t help the blush creeping up my cheeks. “You’re just saying that.”
“Nope,” he replied, grabbing the dress and adding it to the pile of things he’d insisted on buying.
From clothes to accessories, he didn’t say no to anything.
When I protested, saying he was spending too much, he brushed it off.
“I’d spend everything on you, Y/N,” he said with such sincerity it made my heart ache.
Afterward, he took me to my favorite café for lunch.
The cozy little place was one we often went to in the early days of our relationship, and the nostalgia hit me hard as we sat down.
“I missed this,” I admitted as I sipped my coffee.
“Me too,” Lando said, reaching across the table to hold my hand.
“And I’m going to make sure we never lose this again.”
Next, he surprised me with a visit to a local pottery studio.
I couldn’t help but laugh when Lando struggled to shape a vase, the clay slipping through his fingers.
“Okay, you’re supposed to keep your hands steady,” I teased, leaning over to guide him.
“Oh, so now you’re an expert?” he joked, though his grin softened as I showed him how to shape the clay.
It was messy, chaotic, and perfect.
By the end, we both had clay smudged on our faces, and we were laughing like we hadn’t in weeks.
From there, we stopped at a flower shop.
Lando picked out the biggest bouquet of my favorite flowers, holding it out to me with a boyish grin.
“For you,” he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“You’re really pulling out all the stops today, aren’t you?” I teased, though my heart swelled as I buried my nose in the fragrant blooms.
“Only the best for my girl,” he replied, his tone playful but his eyes serious.
For the rest of the day, he didn’t leave my side.
He held my hand as we walked through the streets, his arm draped protectively around me whenever we stopped to rest.
He peppered me with kisses at every opportunity; on my cheek, my forehead, my temple.
“You’re being extra clingy today,” I said with a small laugh as he pulled me into another hug.
“Making up for lost time,” he murmured, his chin resting on the top of my head.
Bit by bit, the walls I’d built around my heart began to crumble.
His efforts felt genuine, and I found myself smiling more easily, the hurt from the night before slowly fading into the background.
By the time we got home, the sun was setting, painting the sky in soft shades of pink and orange.
We were both tired but happy as we curled up on the couch together.
Lando tucked me under his arm, his fingers gently tracing patterns on my shoulder.
“Y/N,” he said after a long moment of silence.
His tone was serious, and I looked up at him curiously.
“Yeah?”
“I need to say this again because you deserve to hear it,” he began, his voice steady but filled with emotion.
“I’m so sorry for everything, for neglecting you, for forgetting our anniversary, for making you feel like you weren’t my priority. You are my priority, Y/N. You’re the best thing in my life, and I hate that I made you feel otherwise.”
His words hit me straight in the chest, and I felt tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.
“I know I hurt you,” he continued, his hand cupping my cheek as he looked into my eyes.
“But I swear, I’ll spend every day proving how much I love you. I’ll never let you feel like that again.”
My heart felt full as I reached up to hold his hand.
“You’ve done a lot for me today, Lando,” I said softly.
“And it’s helped. I can see how much you mean it.”
“So... does that mean you forgive me?” he asked, his tone hopeful but cautious.
I smiled, leaning up to kiss him. “Yeah, I forgive you.”
The relief on his face was almost comical, and he immediately began peppering my face with kisses, my cheeks, my forehead, my nose, even the corners of my lips.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he murmured between kisses, his joy infectious.
Just when I thought the day was over, Lando suddenly sat up.
“Wait, I have one last thing,” he said, standing and disappearing into the other room.
I frowned, confused, as he returned with a small envelope in hand.
“What is this?” I asked as he handed it to me.
“Open it,” he urged, a playful but nervous glint in his eyes.
I carefully tore open the envelope, and my breath caught as I pulled out two plane tickets.
My eyes widened as I read the destination: Maldives.
“Lando… are you serious?” I asked, my voice trembling with disbelief.
He grinned. “You’ve always said you wanted to go. So, I booked us a two-week stay. Just you and me. No distractions.”
Tears welled in my eyes as I looked at him, overwhelmed.
“You didn’t have to do this…”
“Yes, I did,” he said firmly, pulling me into his arms.
“I’ll do anything to make you happy, Y/N. Anything.”
I hugged him tightly, burying my face in his chest.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“I love you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.
“I love you too,” I replied, my voice muffled but sincere.
We settled back into the couch, cuddled up together, the weight of the past few weeks finally lifting.
After a long silence, I broke it with a playful smile.
“If you ever neglect me like that again, I’m breaking up with your ass,” I teased.
Lando laughed, his arms tightening around me. “Fair enough. But don’t worry, I won’t. Not ever again.”
And for the first time in weeks, I believed him.
The end
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1K notes · View notes
certaimromance · 7 months ago
Text
𝜗𝜚 Cupid Walks Right.
Spencer Reid x BAU!reader
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Summary: You've been hiding your attraction to your coworker for a long time, until a few pictures of him kissing a celebrity in a pool unleash emotions you can't control.
Words: 1,6k.
Warnings & Tags: fem!reader. mentions of crime and arms. spoilers for s1 e18 ("somebody's watching"). hurt+comfort. two idiots in love. lots of jealousy. fluff. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).
Note: The reader is simply me every time I watch that episode but with a lot more drama to make it interesting.
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One bullet after another hit the paper meters away from you, with each shot more accurate than the previous one. You had lost count of how many cartridges you had already spent because your mind was full of thoughts that only the sound of the shots echoing in the shooting room managed to silence and give you back a little control of the situation.
Memories of one of the last cases still lingered in your mind, and you couldn't understand why. It hadn't even been something relevant enough to stick in your mind that much, it was just a crazy stalker obsessed with a celebrity and more of the same old same old in terms of creating a profile. It was nothing you hadn't seen before, and it had ended well, with a happy ending that included Spencer kissing the victim he was supposed to be protecting.
That was the crux of the issue, the root of your problem.
You saw some photos that captured the moment in vivid detail and wanted to run out and throw up in the nearest trash can. You held back to avoid answering embarrassing questions, blaming your bad feelings on the last thing you ate and insisting that you were just satisfying your curiosity. But as they say, curiosity always kills the cat.
Maybe it was because it was unprofessional and unnecessary, maybe you were in a bad mood and needed to relax, maybe you were upset that the guy with the germ problem had shared saliva with a stranger, maybe you didn't like Lila Archer because of her performances, or maybe you just wanted to be in her shoes and have him kiss you like that. And for heaven's sake, maybe you've had a few inappropriate dreams about it lately.
You were just about to fire again to get the thoughts out of your mind when someone tapped you on the shoulder. You turned around, ready to defend yourself with the gun in your hand.
“Wait, wait, it's me. I'm sorry.” Spencer raised his arms in a sign of peace and took a few steps back. “Just me.”
“What are you doing here? You scared me.” You lowered the gun and placed it on the table, trying to sound less abrupt. “I thought everyone had gone home.”
He approached you again, checking the open shells and the pile of bullets on the ground. He was quite surprised to see how many times you had hit the target with perfect shots, and how you still seemed intent on continuing, even though it was almost two in the morning. It wasn't practice, because you didn't need it, it was something else, and you seemed quite angry about it.
“I spent the hour going through some papers and saw the light on in here. I thought I'd come and have a look.” He explained, trying to follow your gaze, which seemed to elude his. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah, perfect.”
You started gathering your things and cleaning up the space you'd been using, planning to leave as soon as possible because of his presence. It had been weeks since you'd been alone with him because you'd managed to avoid seeing him as best you could. You'd even managed to convince Hotch that it was time for him to pair you up with someone else during the cases to experiment. You didn't even know why he'd listened to you, but it had been a great relief.
“You're leaving already?” Spencer asked, and you just nodded. “Can I take you home?”
Usually he drove you home, because your car was still at the mechanic and you refused to buy a new one. You always used the minutes you spent together to talk about something other than cases, they were moments of relaxation that you both appreciated. The big difference was that now you couldn't afford that luxury without feeling strange.
“Don't worry, I'll call a taxi.” You grabbed your jacket from a nearby locker. “I'm fine.” You added, with the intention of heading for the door until he stopped you by the wrist.
“Is everything okay...between us?” He asked as you looked up to meet his eyes. “Are you mad at me?”
“I'm sorry, what?” You said, feigning confusion. You always knew it was only a matter of time before he figured something was off with you. After all, he worked in profiling.
“Are you mad at me?” He asked again, in a lower voice, sounding a little more vulnerable than he'd intended. That instantly made you feel bad, you didn't want to hurt him with your confusion.
“No.”
He let out a sigh at your automatic response. His shoulders slumped a bit, and he felt a wave of relief for a few seconds. But then he looked into your eyes for a moment and hesitated, biting his lower lip.
“So...why are you looking at me like that?” He asked, sounding a little shy and with a hint of apprehension in his voice. “Or not looking at me at all.”
“I'm not doing anything.” You make excuses.
He got the chills when he heard your voice, which came across as cold and distant.
“You're giving me that look.”
You gave a little frown and folded your arms, as if to say you didn't agree.
“What look?"
“You look at me like I've done something wrong, like you're disappointed or angry...I think both. You barely look me in the eye, you walk away every time I want to talk to you, you don't sit near me on the jet or want to work with me anymore. And you've been like this for a week.” He paused for a second, remembering when your strange behavior started. “Ever since the L.A. case.”
The room was suddenly filled with silence and a palpable tension. You had been foolish to think Spencer wouldn't notice your remoteness, given his perceptive nature. But you didn't have a choice. You didn't want to appear jealous when you didn't even have feelings for him, you were just ovulating or something like that.
“Is it because...because of Lila? I heard Morgan say some things, and you haven't treated me the same since.” His wavering voice sounded more and more confident, as if he still had to convince himself of his point of view. “I want to know what you think, please.”
You could only curse Derek for exposing you like that. He was the only one who knew about your strange attraction to Reid because he had caught you looking at him several times and you had confessed it to him once in a bar after several drinks and a ridiculous game of cross questions. Since that night, the jokes and suggestions about making out with Spencer under a tree had begun.
But a beautiful actress did it before you, in her pool, with lots of pictures to prove it.
“I'm not one to tell you what to do, but I think your actions were unprofessional and most of all risky.” You spoke after a few seconds, clearing your throat and trying to contain the burning you felt. “It could have ended badly.”
Come on, you would have done the same thing. You often thought about what it would be like to kiss him in the middle of an investigation, especially when he kept giving important details. So you were a little hypocritical.
“I'm only saying that because I care about you.” You added, noticing how confused he looked.
“I know, I care about you too.” He replied calmly, taking a step toward you to touch your arm. “This has been bothering you?”
You froze at his warm touch and the implications you thought he was making about you, nodding as if hypnotized. Had he realized that you had been jealous all along? That you wanted to go back so he could kiss you and not her? That you wanted him to put his hands on your cheeks and kiss you deeply until you were breathless?
“I think I understand, but don't worry about me. I won't do anything dangerous anymore.”
Oh, he hadn't noticed.
Spencer really thought that you were just concerned about his safety because he was your friend and your partner on cases, that you were just frustrated that you weren't there to back him up in case things went wrong. It didn't even occur to him that it was something much deeper and more heated than that.
“So, all good?” He gave you a small smile that made your heart beat a little faster.
“Sure.” You lied, with a strange lump in your throat at the guarded words. “I just didn't know you liked blondes.” You added in a fake teasing tone.
Despite your clearly suspicious tone, Spencer laughed sheepishly. “Actually, I like your hair color.”
A strange bubbling sensation reached your stomach and made you smile.
“Mine?” You asked, lowering your gaze to the floor.
“Yes, it's like it's perfect for you.” He carefully brushed your hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear, causing the feeling in your stomach to identify itself as butterflies fluttering nonstop.
“You're telling me because I have a gun?” You tried to change the subject with a nervous laugh. “I'm not a celebrity, after all.”
“You don't have to be one to be as pretty as you are. But you could be if you wanted to, and...” He started to talk about statistics and a bunch of data you didn't even know, but strangely enough you didn't listen to him this time because you were stuck on the first sentence.
Spencer really thought you were pretty.
It was only then that you realized something had changed. The only successful shot had been Cupid's arrow to your heart.
Because, damn it, you were totally in love with that man.
1K notes · View notes
no-144444 · 7 months ago
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mishaps online- o.piastri (81)
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summary: oscar accidentally posts a nude online the night before your big concert and launch. oops.
pairing: oscar piastri (no.81) x singer! fem! reader
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As you stared at the screen in front of you, your eyes filled with horror. Oscar Jack Piastri, your boyfriend of 3 years, had just posted a nude to his instagram story. 
What the fuck. 
You immediately sprung into action, calling him since you were in Berlin for a concert. He didn’t pick up.
You called Lando next, knowing they were in the same hotel, especially since it was 3am in the fucking morning. You were already getting bombed by tweets and messages, from friends and fans, all asking if you’d seen it. 
“What?” he groaned, groggy from being woken up.
“Lando! Go into Oscar’s room right now please,” you pleaded, happy that you had gotten ahold of someone. 
“What?- Why?” he asked, but obliged all the same, getting out of bed. “You know we're supposed to be on vacation right? He can go to sleep.”
“Is he awake?” You asked, ignoring his complaining. 
“Osc?” he called as he knocked. “Y/n’s on the phone, she wants to talk to you!” 
“Huh?” you heard a yawn from Oscar, then shuffling as he got up. Of course Oscar would send you a nude, then immediately fall asleep. For fuck’s sake. “Baby?” He took the phone out of Lando’s hand and held it to his ear. “You alright?”
“You posted a nude on instagram, please go delete it now,” you blurted out.
He stood still for a moment. “W-what?” 
Lando laughed so hard he fell over. “There’s no way!” 
“I-I didn’t,” he panicked then lowered his voice. “I sent it to you.”
“Well, you sent it to me and your instagram story,” you explained. 
Lando was on the floor, cackling as Oscar almost tripped over him to get to his phone and delete the photo. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he repeated as he went through his phone, taking down the photo. 
“You are such a muppet!” Lando cried, breathless from laughing. 
“Shut up!” Oscar replied. “This is your fucking fault! You told me to send the picture!”
“To Y/n, not the fucking world Osc!” he chuckled.
To be fair, you understood where Lando was coming from, this was objectively funny. You’d probably be laughing if you weren;t his girlfriend, and if you wouldn’t have to explain this entire situation to your family, including your parents. God, just thinking about it made you sick.
“Is the photo down?” you asked.
“Yeah, it’s down,” he sighed. “I’m so sorry baby I just-”
“Let’s not have this conversation with Lando in the room,” you stopped him and he chuckled. 
“Good idea.”
“Zak’s probably going to call you, and I’m going to go call Margaret now. I love you Osc, talk later?”
“I love you too,” he sighed. “Talk later.”
You hung up the phone and let yourself scream into your pillow for a few seconds, then dialled the number of your manager, Margaret. 
“Y/n? What’s wrong?”
“Oscar posted a nude on instagram by accident,” you sighed. “He’s sorry.”
She took a deep breath. “You know how I love you, right?”
“Yeah?” You answered hesitantly. 
“And how I love you and Oscar and how happy he makes you?”
“Yes?”
“Well right now, I fucking hate him and want him dead. Please give me a few hours to work on this before I can properly face you again, alright?”
You smiled, happy she was taking care of it. “Thank you, and sorry- again.”
She hung up the phone with a groan of frustration. 
Next, someone else called. Oscar’s mom. 
“Hey Nicole,” you tried to keep calm as you spam-texted Oscar about the situation. No way his mother was calling you about this. 
“Hey Y/n,” she smiled. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course,” you nodded. 
“Is my son really stupid enough to accidentally post a nude picture of himself to his instagram and leave it up for a whole 5 minutes?”
“Apparently so,” you shrugged, slightly laughing. 
Nicole chuckled. “Are you laughing?”
“If I don’t laugh I’ll probably cry, so, yeah.”
She laughed at that. “I’m logging off the internet for a while, tell Osc to text me, yeah?” 
“Of course,” you smiled. “Sorry about this.”
“Jesus, it’s not your fault, don’t worry. How are you?”
“Shocked,” you answered truthfully. “And a bit scared of what’s coming next.”
“I just hope you two are ok,” she added. “I need you as my daughter-in-law.”
You smiled a genuine smile. Nicole was always so welcoming and lovely. “We’re all good, don ‘t worry.”
“Good,” she smiled. “I’ll leave you to it, love you, talk soon.”
“Talk soon,” you smiled and she hung up. 
Immediately, Lando called you.
“I thought you’d be back in bed,” you teased. 
“Trust me, being in the room for Zak and Oscar’s call was worth the missed sleep,” he chuckled and you heard Oscar sigh in the background. “He’s gotten his phone taken off him!” You couldn’t help but chuckle. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, they’ve given me a fucking flip phone instead,” he revealed. “How’d it go with my mum?”
“She’s not ecstatic with your choices, but she’s alright. She mostly wanted to know if we were alright, which we are, in case you were wondering,” you explained. “She wants you to call her.”
“Now?"
“Nah, maybe tomorrow.”
“How are you?” He asked, worried about what you’d say.
“Not an ideal situation, but I’m not mad at you. It was an honest mistake, seriously darling,” you reassured him. “Plus now the internet knows why I constantly have a bruised cervix,” you added, wanting him to loosen up and relax. It was a mistake, an honest mistake. 
You heard Lando laughing, and you got a chuckle out of Oscar, which was enough for you. You stayed on call with them for a while, then turned off your phone to get some rest.
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You woke up to about a million messages from hundred of different people. Family and friends teasing on the various groupchats, management and your record label freaking out, and Oscar just being upset.
Osc <3: I feel like such an idiot. I cannot believe I did that, especially the night before the start of your tour, and the night of the launch. I'm so sorry baby.
You: It's alright Oscar, I promise. Margaret is already sorting something out right now. It's ok, I swear.
Osc <3: I still feel awful. I'm so sorry.
You: It's alright. Did you at least get your phone back?
Osc <3: Yeah but no social media on it anymore. I can't even look at your instagram :(
You: I think you'll survive lol :) I love you
Osc <3: I love you too.
You got up and out of bed, tired from the stressful night. The concert tonight, the launch tonight. What were your fans going to say?
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comments:
ynsbff: something as big as oscar's d-
-> user12: GIRL
user56: girl is bouncing back fast from the shocker last night was
-> user29: fr i'd still be shook my boyfriend posted THAT
landonorris: legend 💙
pierregasly: 💙💙💙
logansargeant: can't wait 💙💙💙
lewishamilton: burning it down and shining on 💙
-> user58: ????? what does this mean????
-> user80: the return of XNDA????
russellgeorge: 💙
valterribottas: 💙
mclaren: 💙🧡
user23: why is the entire grid in the comments with blue hearts?
-> user82: literally? like what do yall know?
danielriccardo: don't know what's gonna hit 'em 💙💙
mercedes: 💙
user13: why is oscar the only one with pink hearts?
-> landonorris: he's not allowed his phone, it's his publicist 😁
-> user90: DAMN. exposing ur bro like that is crazy
-> landonorris: so is posting a nude 🤷🤷🤷🤷
kmag: 💙
charlesleclerc: 💙💙💙
maxverstappen: can't wait 💙
fernandoalonso: Mi favorita💙
lancestroll: it's going to be a wild one 💙
alexalbon: legendary 💙💙💙
lilymhe: my girl 💙💙💙
-> alexalbon: *cough* i'm ur boyfriend? *cough*
-> y/ny/l/n: bless you? do I need to call u a doctor?
zhouguanyu: 💙💙💙
carlossainz: 💙
nicohulkenburg: 💙
estebanocon: 💙
-> landonorris: plz don't crash into this bro 🙌
-> y/ny/l/n: HAHHAHHAHHA
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You stepped onto the stage and the crowd went crazy. This was it, your first world tour. You were living your dream.
"Hello!" you cheered into your microphone. "I am so happy to be here, thank you all for coming!"
The crowd went wild again.
"Now, before we start, I have a pretty special announcement to make..." you paused for dramatic affect. "My next album 'Curious' drops tonight at midnight! And a very special feature from one of my very good friends, XNDA!"
As the crowd screamed over you and Lewis, who just came on stage, the opening of 'Save your tears' played. You two danced around the stage as you sang, excited with the reception from fans. For the rest of the concert, Lewis stayed on (since he was on another song, but also because he helped produce the album) and you two had so much fun. The concert ended at exactly midnight, and you came off stage on such a high. And there he was. Your Oscar, with a wide smile on his face and his arms open for you to jump into. Which you did, happily.
"Congratulations," he smiled, holding you close.
"Congratulations to you too," you smiled.
He pulled back, a confused look on his face. "What for?"
"Listen to 'Stargirl Interlude'," you shrugged, a smirk on your face. "And tell your mom not to listen to it, yeah?"
He smirked. "Whatever you say baby," and with that, he kissed you. His large hands holding your cheeks as you kissed him back, happy to be in his arms again.
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comments
user15: OMFG 'STARLGIRL INTERLUDE' WHAT IS GOING ON
user12: wishing i was y/n rn....
landonorris: being horny on main? cringe.
-> y/ny/l/n: not winning for 6 years? cringe.
-> maxfewtrell: HA
lewishamilton: we told yall 🤷🤷🤷
pierregasly: kika has not stopped playing this 💙💙💙
-> user51: as she should.
danielriccardo: since when was my back replaced with oscar's y/n???
-> oscarpiastri: sorry mate, just better 🤷🤷🤷
-> y/ny/l/n: at least daniel's better at keeping his pants on online 😁
-> oscarpiastri: ok I deserved that.
-> landonorris: HAHAHHAHAH
alexalbon: RELAX I DIDN'T NEED TO KNOW ABOUT UR SEX LIFE.
-> y/ny/l/n: bitch ik all about urs too. lily tells me everything.
-> alexalbon: brb, having a breakdown.
logansargeant: @ oscarpiastri first i had to see your dick and now this? mate leave us alone.
-> oscarpiastri: SHUT UP I APOLOGISED.
-> logansargeant: NOT ENOUGH.
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comments
lewishamilton: mr. stargirl interlude? mr. billie boss nova? mr. the diner? mr. chihiro? is that you?
-> oscarpiastri: hush
logansargeant: @ oscarpiastri hate club leader
-> landonorris: can I join?
-> y/ny/l/n: lando you've been singing chihiro all day. stfu.
-> landonorris: ...
-> user37: were you silent or silenced?
y/ny/l/n: MY BEAUTIFUL BOYFRIEND
-> y/nsbff: thirsting on the main?
-> y/ny/l/n: what have i become?😥
user89: ok, but who is 'i didn't change my number' about?
-> y/ny/l/n: @ logansargeant actually wrote it about williams 😥😥😥
-> logansargeant: Y/N. TOO FAR.
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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
2K notes · View notes
kiemiu · 3 months ago
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voice notes your boyfriend matt leaves you pt.2 | ( fem!reader ) fluff + soft hours. established relationship drabble wc 402 (library) + (request)
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one. i hope you have a good time on your girls trip..please, don't get kidnapped. i don't know what i'll do if fucking— i don't know, mafia boss zayn malik took you hostage. you might like it there, and-and i can't have you getting kidnapped by 1D in a foreign country! or whatever the hell happens in those fics.. i mean, who'd watch gravity falls with me?
two. schedules all cleared up for the rest of the day, (relieved sigh) i can't wait to come home to you. i miss you even though i've been gone for 5 hours at most. (quiet realization) i might have some sort of separation anxiety with you..
three. (in that baby voice) birthday! birthday! it's your birthday! happy birthday, yay!
four. mr. wrinkleton misses you. i think you should come over, to..cheer him up and stuff.
five. i'm not letting you put off the new clairo album any longer, i'm coming over and we'll listen to it together so i can see your reaction live, and yes, i'll stop by taco bell for you so, please, don't fill up on fruit snacks.
six. facetime date today?..i know you're not feeling well, but i—i really miss talking to you, and i've probably looked through our joint photo album like 6 times today...just wanna see my girl.
seven. "add up my looooove, oOoOoOOo, add up my loooove, honey was it enouuuGgghh? is it ever enouuu-" don't i sound just like clairo? she should get me on her next album.
eight. new psychological horror movie just came out, and i know you're into that spooky shit so i bought it on amazon prime. but it's on my account, soooo, you'll have to come over. (chris in the background: and bring pepsi!) and chris says bring pepsi, please.
nine. you left just before the rain started to pour down really hard...i hope you didn't get caught in it. and if so, stay safe and call if you need anything. if ya' need me to, i'll come get you myself and drive you back here until it calms down.
ten. i know you're most-likely taking your midday nap right now but—(sniffle) i don't know, i'm just happy to have you. you—uhm, you really mean a lot to me, so, please, don't go anywhere anytime soon. i–i don't know what i'd do with myself.
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' 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ' 🥡: @emely9274 @ginswife @madifilipowiczslvt @chrisstvrns @conspiracy-ash @sturnina @lovetaylorrussellgrr @nervoussagittarius @sacaydia @chrissturnsss @hearts4werka @oliviagirlsworld @koilaniazul @starsforu @sturn777
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mayakern · 4 months ago
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I honestly don’t know how to write this; I have spent all week attempting to figure out what to say.
Last Monday I was informed by our factory that our merchandiser and direct point of contact with the factory passed away unexpectedly two weeks ago. She was someone who I have spent a great deal of time speaking to ever since we switched factories two years ago. She helped us realize designs for new products, sent us samples of garments extremely quickly and kept track of all our orders. She went to bat for us if something went wrong with our print shop or if I was unhappy with how a garment pattern was interpreted by their team. As their first American client and a brand that focuses on size inclusion, something that is not typical of their other clients, she handled a lot of crazy requests from us without blinking and she was dedicated to ensuring that both us and our customers were happy. We talked nearly every day, and though it was work related she was one of the kindest people I have had the pleasure interacting with daily.
She was beyond dedicated to her work and to working with us. Turkey has an 11-hour time difference from me in California, which means when she was emailing me at 2pm in the afternoon it was 1am there. You can sure bet that I extended her the same courtesy and tried my best to answer her emails at night too, even when I would rather just be sleeping.
It was also clear just how much she loved her job, and now much she loved you guys. She had been silently watching our social media since we first started working with them. She got just as excited as we did on launch days and would often email me unprompted about how she was glad people were leaving such positive comments and reviews. She read your feedback when no one ever asked her to do that or even expected it of her. She did it because she really, really cared.
Even though she was miles away and we never met in person, she was like a coworker to me and the loss of her is like losing someone on our team.
The Maya Kern team, as a whole, has been dealing with a lot lately. I personally just moved (which took far longer than we expected) and Maya and Devin are gearing up to move back to Minneapolis pretty soon. With the loss of our merchandizer, it has taken the wind out of my sails a little bit. I was trying to push through, even though I am exhausted, and carry out the photo shoot for our new products this weekend, but it has become clear that my body just can’t handle it. My arthritis has finally told me to stop moving, so unfortunately, we are going to have to reschedule the shoot for later on.
We are doing everything we can to make sure our next product drop on the 21st still happens. But as of right now, due to this sudden loss, the garments haven’t even shipped from the factory yet and I am not optimistic that they will clear customs and get checked into the fulfillment center in time for the launch. This means the drop is likely going to be pushed back to December 5th and instead of a full photo shoot, we will probably have to settle for taking quick photos of everyone at home, and likely with our phones. 
We work really hard to deliver not just garments we believe in, but also pictures of said garments on bodies that our customers can relate to, and unfortunately I just do not think that is possible this time. As always, we really appreciate your patience and understanding during what has been a very difficult time for us.
Ash
Chief Operations Officer
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delulujuls · 8 months ago
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testcam.mp4 | ln4, op81
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hi, im coming back with another f1 shot! as i said, i will still write for my fast bois, so here i am, making my words and serving another landoscar. it is, oh my, intense. so please, if you are a minor, do not interact!
summary: oscar decided to follow in lando's footsteps and also set up a video account on instagram. however, as we all know, practice makes perfect and luckily he had willing models nearby
warnings: smut! p in v, oral (male and female receiving), two boys kissing (im sorry), no protection (dont be like them, use that damn rubber)
pairing: fem!mclaren driver reader x oscar piastri x lando norris
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"Y/N, look at me," the girl sighed and lifted her gaze from her phone, looking towards Oscar, who was sitting on the opposite side of the room. "The camera definitely caught that sigh, I'm sure."
"Is this another idea from the PR people?"
"No, actually, it's not," Oscar replied, still squinting through the camera, trying to manually focus it on his friend's face. "To be honest, it was Lando's idea."
"Lando's idea?" she furrowed her brow. "Since when you thought that Lando's ideas are worth following?"
"Since he started that Instagram account, where he posts photos and short videos," Oscar said, moving the camera away from his face and clicking a setting button. "People really liked it, so I thought I might give it a try too."
Y/N snorted and smiled, shaking her head. "Does he know about it?"
Oscar was about to answer when Lando walked into the room, as if he had been summoned.
"Know about what?" he asked, having caught the tail end of their conversation before entering.
"About how," "Your ego might not handle this," Y/N interrupted Piastri, who still held the camera, looking up at Lando. "About how I thought I might start doing some amateur photography and filming too."
Lando smiled. "Like 'lando.jpg' and 'lando.mov'?"
The Australian just nodded. "Except I don't know how I'll do yet, I just got the camera today."
Norris sat down next to him and immediately engaged in the conversation. Knowing she wouldn't get a chance to talk to them for the next hour, Y/N decided to go for lunch early, leaving the boys on their own.
"But I see you've already recorded something," Lando commented, quickly browsing the camera and looking at the saved files. "Can I?"
Oscar nodded. "It's just Y/N, the first footage right after unboxing."
Norris smiled, watching their friend's long eyelashes brush her cheeks before she looked up from her phone when called by Oscar. Piastri also glanced at the small screen, where the girl's face appeared for a few seconds.
"She's pretty," Lando stated, an idea forming in his mind. "You could practice using the camera on her."
Oscar furrowed his brow and looked at his friend's face. "I'm not sure what you mean."
The Brit smiled and bit his lip, giving him a meaningful look. It took Oscar a moment to connect the dots.
"Are you crazy? That's absurd!"
"If you don't want to, I can ask her," Lando replied, shrugging and handing the camera back to him. "I could use some more practice too."
When Y/N finished her lunch, she had media duties to attend to, joined shortly by Lando and Oscar. As dusk fell and all the necessary materials were recorded, the trio left McLaren's headquarters. Y/N and Lando were supposed to stay at a hotel, but Oscar invited them to stay at his place during their time in Woking.
"Shall we order something to eat?" Lando asked as Oscar drove into the underground parking after an hour-long drive.
"I'm all for it, I'm starving," the Aussie admitted, and Y/N, sitting in the front, nodded too. "I call dibs on the bathroom first, and you guys can order something in the meantime. I can eat anything."
She added, getting out of the car. When they were inside Oscar's apartment and Y/N had disappeared into the bathroom, Lando gave his friend a knowing look.
"What?" Piastri furrowed his brow, placing his backpack on the counter and unpacking it.
"You know what," Lando replied, smiling. The Aussie shook his head.
"You can ask her, but I doubt she'll agree," he said quietly, emptying his backpack. "We barely, you know, damn-" Piastri started to stammer, losing his train of thought. Thinking about Lando's suggestion made him blush. The older boy laughed, wrapping an arm around him and kissing his cheek. Oscar was adorable when he got embarrassed.
Piastri sighed and looked up at his friend. His amused gaze was captivating, his smile hidden by biting his lip.
"This isn't funny, Lan," Oscar muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched upwards.
"It is, actually," Norris murmured, pulling him close and kissing him, before moving to sit on the couch. Soon, all three were on the couch, eating fried noodles with chicken and vegetables. They wore loose shirts, their hair still wet from their showers, and watched a lighthearted series they had chosen a few days ago.
When they finished eating and the episode ended, Lando stretched and glanced at Oscar.
"So, Osc, did you manage to record anything today?"
Y/N also looked at her friend, who just shook his head.
"Just a few seconds of Y/N, nothing more."
"I thought you deleted that," the girl said, standing to get a drink from the kitchen. She picked up the camera from the counter and, sitting back on the couch, opened it and turned it on. Lando leaned in, resting his chin on her shoulder, looking at the small screen, where a familiar figure soon appeared.
"You look nice," Lando said softly, smiling. "The camera likes you."
The girl smiled, hearing her own sigh in response to Oscar's request to look his way.
"It did catch it," she glanced at her friend, who was sitting nearby, finishing his food.
When the short recording ended, she absentmindedly pressed the red record button and, glancing at the display, pointed the lens at Oscar.
"The worst possible moment," he said with his mouth full, looking at his friends with mock exasperation.
"What a handsome guy, just look at him," Lando smiled as she focused on zooming in on the noodle box in his hands.
"How do you rate our dinner?" Y/N asked, smiling.
Oscar picked the remaining noodles from the box and shoved them into his mouth, nodding appreciatively.
"Much better than what you can get at the company," he replied, placing the empty box on the table and grabbing an open can of Sprite.
"And what about dessert?" she asked, looking up from the camera and into his eyes. Oscar nearly choked, and Lando, if he'd had something to drink, would likely have spat it out.
"Dessert?" The boys asked almost simultaneously, glancing at each other, then at their friend.
"Mhm," Y/N replied and looked at Lando, signaling with her head for him to sit next to Oscar. He obediently moved and sat beside him, placing his hand on the back of the couch. "Here they are, my lovely boys."
"Yes, that's us," Lando said, glancing at Oscar. "In the flesh," Piastri added, looking back at him. The friends exchanged looks. It went much smoother than they expected.
"A little show? The camera doesn't like boredom," Y/N encouraged, resting her legs on the table and moving the zoom out a bit.
"If you're okay with it, of course," she added, looking up from the camera and at them. Lando gave Oscar a questioning look, and he just shrugged. "I don't mind."
Norris smiled, weaving the hand that lay just behind his head into his hair and kissing him. Oscar immediately returned the kiss and touched his cheek. Y/N smiled, zooming in on their faces. She bit her lip, feeling the heat rise within her.
"Actually, it's my camera," Oscar said after a few minutes, as Lando's kisses trailed down his neck. "And I think I should practice with it too."
“Of course, it’s even recommended,” the girl smiled and stood up, handing him the camera. Lando also got up from the couch and easily lifted his friend, carrying her over his shoulder to the bedroom.
“You’re so cheeky!” the girl shouted, hitting him on the butt. “I hope you’re recording this violence,” Y/N made sure, lifting her head and glancing at Oscar walking behind them. “I’ve got it all, and in HD too.”
In the bedroom, Lando laid the girl on the bed, and she immediately pulled him towards her. He laughed, placing his hands on either side of her head and easily finding her lips. Piastri stood to the side, feeling hotter by the second. Just like the little red dot on the screen indicated the camera was working, his arousal was evident in his too-tight boxers. He couldn’t lie; he liked what he was seeing. When Lando moved aside to remove the girl’s shirt and his lips immediately attacked her breasts, she looked at Oscar and extended her hand towards him.
“Join the party, baby,” Piastri swallowed hard and obediently approached the edge of the bed. His friend’s hand moved along his thigh until it found the bulge in his pants. Y/N smiled and squeezed it, massaging for a moment. When Lando disappeared between her thighs, she propped herself on her elbow and easily slid Oscar’s sweatpants and boxers off. She looked straight into the camera lens and licked his entire length, sending shivers through his spine.
Piastri could barely stand when she took him into her mouth. He watched on the small camera screen as her lips moved up and down on him, leaving an increasingly wet trail. She moaned softly, glancing involuntarily towards Lando. When Oscar pointed the camera at him, the Brit smiled and winked. His tongue was still working between the girl’s thighs, and the finger he had added earlier was rhythmically moving inside her, eliciting soft, pleasant moans.
“Do you like what you see?” she asked, looking dreamily over the lens at her friend’s face. Oscar nodded and licked his lips. The whole situation was incredibly arousing for him. Not just for him; Y/N didn’t need much to come on Lando’s tongue shortly after.
“Give it to me, now it’s my turn,” Norris commanded, standing up and getting off the bed. “Lie down.”
Without stopping the recording, Oscar obediently handed him the camera. The girl smiled and grabbed the Aussies’s hand, pulling him towards her. Piastri fell onto the pillows and couldn’t even speak before his friend climbed onto his lap and kissed him tenderly. Oscar sighed into her mouth, squeezing her thighs with his hands.
Lando smiled at the sight before him, holding the camera in one hand and skillfully freeing himself from his sweatpants with the other. He spat on his hand and spread the saliva over his cock, starting to stroke it. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t lie about not liking the whole situation.
The three friends were friends only in a technical sense. To the people they worked with daily, to the fans, and really to everyone around them, they were just three drivers who ended up at McLaren and became the faces of the brand, becoming friends in the process. That was all true, but they weren’t just friends. Friends don’t know how you taste. Right?
“That’s right, baby,” Lando smiled, hearing the girl choke as she tried to take all of Oscar's lenght into her mouth. “And again, take him all.”
Y/N sniffed, trying to catch her breath. Oscar raised his hand to gently brush her hair from her face, but Lando tightened his grip on it and forced the girl to take his cock back into her mouth. Oscar moaned deeply, his eyes rolling back involuntarily. He bit his lip, trying to hold back another moan, and looked up at his friends. He felt embarrassed when he noticed the camera in Lando’s hand, having momentarily forgotten about it.
“There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” the older boy assured, one hand still guiding the girl’s head and the other directing the camera at his friend’s face. “Fuck, you look so good right now.”
“Mm-hmm,” the girl nodded, smiling and looking up at him. “Pretty boy Piastri.”
“It’s a shame to cover such a face,” Lando admitted, slapping girl's ass cheek. “Come on, sit on his face.”
Oscar blushed at his boldness, causing the girl to giggle softly. Y/N pulled herself up and kissed his cheeks, finally kissing him deeply on the lips.
“Tell me if something’s wrong-” her sentence was interrupted by a sudden moan that escaped her lips. As soon as her pussy was above Oscar’s head, he grabbed her thighs and pulled her to him, immediately sucking on her clit. “Oh my God,”
The girl leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. Oscar’s hair fell messily over his forehead, his arms tightly embracing his friend’s thighs, his tongue tracing rhythmic figure-eights, and his brown, misty eyes looking up at her curves.
“He’s in love,” Lando smiled, climbing onto the bed and standing behind the girl, filming Oscar’s face from her point of view. “How does she taste, Osc?”
“Fucking delicious,” he murmured, running his tongue along her entire pussy, causing her to moan. When the girl threw her head back at the sudden sensation of pleasure, she looked straight into the camera. Lando stood next to his friend and smiled at the sight of her blissful face.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he bit his lip, touching her cheek and gently brushing it with his thumb. Y/N nodded and, seeing his painfully erect cock, immediately took it into her mouth.
Lando cursed softly under his breath, tucking her hair behind her shoulders.
“That’s right, just like that, baby,” he praised, glancing at her face this time from behind the camera. “Such a good girl.”
“You’re taking this way too seriously, Lan,” Oscar called out from between the girl’s thighs, causing her to giggle softly.
“Not funny,” the Brit murmured and moved away to the girl’s disappointment. He lay down next to Oscar and gestured for his friend to sit on him. Y/N carefully slid off Oscar’s face, which was now even redder than before. She took the designated spot and slowly slid his cock inside her, both of them reacting with a sigh. Lando held the camera in one hand, his other hand on the girl’s hip, guiding her movements. But his hand wasn’t the only one; a moment later, another pair of hands appeared on Y/N’s waist. Oscar knelt right behind his friend, gathering her hair over her shoulder and planting wet kisses on her neck. He held her hips, setting the right rhythm. The girl braced herself on Lando’s stomach with one hand, the other tangled in Oscar’s hair.
She almost completely forgot that Lando was holding a camera.
Norris also forgot about it and shortly after, when the camera started disturbing him, he placed it on the nightstand, focusing all his attention on the two most important people in his life.
“You are so good for him,” Oscar cooed right into her ear, one hand massaging her clit and the other guiding her movements. “Just look at him.”
“I can hear you, Osc,” the older boy noted, his eyes closed. His hands still guided the girl’s hips, his own movements setting the pace. He felt pleasure spreading through his entire body, warming it.
After a while, Lando, feeling he was close to orgasm, humbly withdrew from the girl’s hot, tight interior. Y/N lay on top of him, pressing him into the mattress and finding his lips again.
Oscar spat on his cock, spreading the saliva with his hand. He moved closer to the girl and grabbed her hip, slowly sliding into her.
Y/N moaned loudly into Lando’s mouth at the sudden sensation. He smiled, “Does he feel good, baby? Filling you up so well?”
“Mm-hmm, yes- oh my God,”
The girl clenched the sheets in her fists and involuntarily closed her eyes, throwing her head back. Oscar smiled and grabbed her hair, pulling her towards him and locking their lips in a kiss.
Their lips couldn’t keep up with the kisses, hungry hands grabbing at every piece of flesh. Moans mingled in a love cocktail that filled the stuffy bedroom walls.
After a while, the three of them collapsed exhausted on the pillows. Their breaths were quickened, cheeks flushed, and bodies covered in sweat. Oscar and Lando lay on the girl’s stomach, and she lazily ran her fingers through their tousled hair. She smiled at the sight before her and reached to turn off the night lamp when she saw that the camera on the nightstand was still pulsing with a red light.
“Of course, you didn’t turn it off,” the girl giggled, reaching for the camera.
“I completely forgot,” Lando admitted, looking at his friend. “Then we’ve got some really hot footage,” he chuckled.
“I’m not sure I want to watch it,” Oscar admitted, closing his eyes.
“The camera test was definitely successful,” she smiled, closing it and setting it aside.
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goddamnitmahtin · 2 months ago
Text
The Fenton Effect
(Or that one time a few Waynes joined a polycule)
(This got really long)
Danny sighed as he looked out at the rest of the city from Tuckers office. His boyfriend had secured himself a spot at Wayne Enterprises for something something technology and his office was on like the bajillionth floor of the building. It had an amazing view though. If only there wasn’t so much smog in the air it might have been beautiful at night.
“Danny I thought you were picking up the kids today,” Tucker said with surprise as he walked in.
Danny shook his head smiling, “Sam said that she wanted Dante and Ellie to bond with her new girlfriend after school today so she will be picking them up.” He made his way over to Tucker, giving him a kiss on the cheek, “I heard that you had some free time today so I could tell you away for a bit. It’s been a while since the two of us have had some time to ourselves without children running around.”
Tucker eyed him suspiciously, “Did you call my boss and ask to take me out for a bit?”
Danny chuckled, “Maybe…” He sat down in a chair, “Well actually I was going to steal you anyways but I just happened to bump into Mr. Drake. He recognized me and told me that if I were to steal you for a bit he didn’t see anything.”
Tucker sighed, “Danny, you and Sam are always stealing me from work for dates, eventually I’m going to get written up!”
Danny pouted in response, “We only do it when you insist on double shifts for week. It’s almost like we miss our boyfriend. Besides if Me CEO agrees with me that you work too much, that’s saying something hun!”
Tucker thought for a moment and then looked back to Danny, “Okay. Let’s go out for a couple hours.”
Danny hopped out of the chair again, “Yay! There’s this new restaurant I found that is supposed to have amazing steak.” He took Tucker’s hand and led him out of the office.
“Mm you know how to treat a man don’t you?” Tucker said in response, letting Danny pull him along.
“I try,” Danny said back wiggling his eyebrows as they went to the elevator.
Jason sat on his bike. He wasn’t in his Red Hood gear at the moment since he was just doing some recon. According to Tim, there was a newer family in town that he needed to look into. Apparently one of his employees had a boyfriend that appeared to be an un registered meta of some kind. Which normally wouldn’t be a problem but there was also the detail that when Tim did a background check on the family, it came up that they had two children neither of which had birth certificates or adoption papers or anything. Like they had appeared out of nowhere. Though Tim doubted it, he had still sent Jason to check it out in the off chance trafficking or some other fishy shit was going on.
He looked at the photos Oracle had provided of the targets he was looking for. Two of the 3 were supposed to be arriving at this restaurant soon. An African American man, the one working for WE, named Tucker Foley. The other… well this was interesting. When Jason went to look at the photo of the other man he was looking for named Daniel Fenton, he noticed the photo was grainy and distorted.
“Babs why does this Fenton guy’s photo look like a horror movie filter?” he said into his comms.
“That’s the best I can provide you with Jason, I’m sorry. All photos anyone takes of him are like that. I tried to clean it up the best I could. The last known photo of this guy without distortion I can find on public domain is from a yearbook photo when he was 14,” she responded.
Well fuck okay. Something was definitely up.
“Could you send that yearbook photo my way? As long as the guy hasn’t made any drastic changes to his appearance like dyed his hair or some sort of Botox I’m sure I’ll be able to figure it out,” he said softly as he didn’t want the car that pulled in next to his bike to hear him.
“On its way,” he heard from Babs before he started to pretend to be scrolling through his phone while the occupants of the car got out and entered the restaurant.
While on his phone he noticed a new message from Cass. She had met up with the woman of the family he was tracking. They had gone to the primary school to pick up the children and was on their way to get ice cream.
The message was followed by a selfie of herself holding hands with a goth woman with purple eyes and black hair. Jason recognized her as Samantha Manson from the third profile Babs had given him. On Samantha’s shoulders was a little girl with dark hair and blue eyes, laughing and reaching for the camera and at the woman’s side holding her hand was a small boy who looked the same age as the little girl who looked almost like a carbon copy of her. Probably twins. He was waving to the camera.
Jason immediatly noticed slight distortion around the children in the photo. Similar to the distortion from the Daniel Fenton file but not nearly as extreme as he could still identify the children in the photo if he were to see them out and about.
He sent Cass a thumbs up in response.
“I’m assuming you got the message too?” He spoke into his comms.
“I did. Looks like the kiddos might be whatever kind of meta this Daniel Fenton is. They do both carry his last name,” she responded.
“And his face…” Jason said as he pulled up the yearbook photo Babs sent him, “Are we sure these aren’t just his kids? Who cares if they weren’t properly documented, that kind of stuff happens all the time in small towns. Have you ever seen Clark’s papers? A fucking mess.”
He heard Oracle sigh, “I have unfortunately. I would be inclined to believe your theory except for the fact that based on their ages, they would have been born when Fenton was 15 but according to my records and from what I can get from Tim, Fenton is more inclined towards men.”
Jason scoffed, “Is that it? That’s not much of a reason at all. People experiment. I’m into guys too but that doesn’t mean I didn’t have a few girlfriends before figuring that out.”
“AND,” Babs continued (Jason had apparently interrupted her), “There’s also the bit where based on the DNA samples Cass has picked up from the kids and Tim has picked up from Fenton, all three of them have 100 percent identical DNA.”
Jason paused. If the DNA was all identical, how is it that two of them are male and the third is female? That wouldn’t be possible without some external fuckery. Not to mention two identical children who only have the DNA of one parent and not the other? This was definitely not right.
“Are you convinced we should look into it now?” He heard Oracle’s voice say into his comms.
“Yeah yeah I’m gonna poke around,” he said while hopping off his bike, “Let me know if anything else comes up.”
Jason ruffled a hand through his hair, took a fucking breath, and walked into the restaurant.
Sam wasn’t nervous…. no not at all. She was just taking her kids to get ice cream after school. With a really pretty lady….
Sam had met Cass a few weeks ago at a small cafe when she was stopping by to get Danny a coffee since he was holing himself up in his workshop for two days at that point and she was hoping the smell would tempt him out of his hole. The two of them got to talking, well signing, while waiting in line and they had hung out a few times since then. Danny and Tucker made fun of her crush but who wouldn’t crush on such a beautiful lady?
Now they were standing in line for the ice cream cart in the park. Not many people went to Ivy’s park but that just made it better for Sam because the line was never long. Besides, None of the plants ate you if you respected them and the ice cream was guaranteed to be Ivy Approved which meant it was ethically sourced.
Currently, Dante was signing to Cass (Cass had told Sam that they didn’t need to sign back if they didn’t want to but Sam had told her that signing was an important thing she wanted the kids and herself to get better at) about his new favorite star that Daddy taught him about and Ellie was playing with one of Ivy’s safer sentient plants. Sam kept an eye on her.
“Now what did I say about the plants at Miss Ivy’s park Ellie?” she called.
“I can look but no touch unless Miss Ivy says so,” Ellie called back, smiling. She seemed to have made a friend with a rather large flower.
Sam nodded and smiled when the child remembered.
She then felt a tap on her arm and looked to see Cass signing, “Not many people come to this park, you seem to not be afraid of the rogue who has claimed it?”
Sam shrugged and signed back while she spoke, “Poison Ivy may be an extremist but I respect her want to preserve natural flora and fawna. My boyfriends and I have already decided that we want to teach the children to respect those things as well since they are important for the health of the people and the Earth. So we come here since Ivy does not have anything against innocent children but if one of them were to misbehave with a sentient plant, they would have an easier time understanding why it is wrong because Dante and Ellie have higher empathy than most.”
Which was true. But also the reason it worked so well is because since the plants were kind of sentient, Ellie and Dante could tell if they accidentally killed one and it made them sad enough to not want to hurt them. They found that out on accident once and since then the children have been strangely fond of the park. But she wasn’t going to tell Cass that.
Sam was nervous that Cass didn’t like that but honestly they were her children and Cass didn’t seem opposed to the park in the first place when the kids suggested it.
After a few moments Cass nodded in response and signed, “Boyfriends? As in plural?”
That was not what Sam was expecting her to ask and it made her blush in embarrassment that she hadn’t explained it sooner. “I am polyamorous. I have two boyfriends. The three of us raise the children together,” she signed although he had a hard time remembering the sign for polyamorous so she ended up spelling it out.
“You all date each other?” Cass signed, curious.
Sam smiled, she didn’t seem to be judging her lifestyle which was something she didn’t find very often. It was part of the reason they had to leave Amity Park in the first place. It was helpful when Tucker got the Timothy Drake scholarship which was a full ride for Computer Science and Engineering at Gotham University.
When they moved into Gotham after that, they weren’t allowed to live on campus with him so Sam and Danny had to start out in a small apartment near Ivy’s Park so they always kept some plants in the window for protection since they had children of course. Since then, Sam had gotten a job as a personal assistant for some rich woman her family was friends with and Danny was working part time at as a bartender during the night shift and was a stay at home Daddy during the day until the kids were old enough for school.
When Tucker graduated he was immediately hired on at WE and not long after that, they bought their much nicer house in a much nicer neighborhood close to Wayne Manor. Was it mostly Tucker’s salary? Admittedly yes, WE pays very well to ensure the employees live in good neighborhoods. But Sam made quite a bit as well and since Danny got the space to tinker with his gadgets and quit bartending as often (he still did it occasionally when his old boss would ask), he had started making a good amount selling his one of a kind clocks mostly. Sam just knew Clockwork was so proud.
Sam signed as she spoke again, “Yes, Tucker is bisexual and Danny and I prefer the term pansexual. We are all together because we are poly (spells it out), and we are open to any of the three of us dating others as well as long as we all discuss and we are honest. Because we have kids we want to make sure our bond and trust is always strong. We want to be together for a long time. See the littles grow up and all that fun stuff.”
Sam was excited to talk about it with someone other than her boyfriends or Jazzy on the phone. No one ever actually wanted to listen about that stuff because people didn’t like things they didn’t understand right away.
They were at the head of the line now though it was going to have to wait until after they got their sweets. Sam corralled the kiddos and asked them what they wanted. Dante and Ellie decided they wanted to share a sundae and Sam ordered herself the Ivy recommended option of the week. She also offered to pay for whatever Cass ordered but before she could, the woman was already paying for everyone.
Sam lead the kids to a park bench where they all sat down. Ellie and Dante immediately started to rock paper scissors for the cherry on top and it wasn’t long until Dante tried to cheat and Sam confiscated the cherry so they wouldn’t start fighting. She didn’t need them to accidentally use their powers in public.
“You didn’t have to pay,” she said, “But thank you.”
Cass smiled and very softly said, “It’s okay. I like you.”
Sam’s cheeks burned. Cass had told her that she did speak sometimes and that her mutism was selective but she didn’t expect her voice to sound so… pretty.
Jason immediately found the targets in a corner table. Most notably a corner table that Fenton had a view of every exit from. Only people who are used to either defending or fleeing at a moment’s notice did that. It wasn’t helping the theory that something was going on.
Fenton hadn’t changed much from the highschool yearbook photo. He looked slightly taller and he had slightly broader shoulders than before but overall the guy was still lanky and thin. His hair was still dark and he still styled it in a similar way. His eyes were still huge and round on his face. The most noticeable difference to the photo though? Danny was much MUCH paler. Almost like a walking corpse. And the eyebags were hard to miss.
Jason sat himself at a table within earshot of the two, ordering himself a beer and some appetizer he didn’t actually read. He was much too focused on listening.
For the most part, it seemed pretty normal stuff. Work, flirting with one another, commenting on the food. But then it got interesting when Foley brought up their supposed children.
“Dante told me you taught him about the dog constellation the other day. He told me Sirius was his new favorite star,” Foley mused.
A chuckle from Fenton, “Yes, he has been super into animals recently so I showed him some constellations like the dog, serpent, eagle, bull. That sort of thing. We used your old PDA to look up where they were in the sky and even pulled up pictures of some of the stars. He was floating with excitement when I showed him the Sirius star. He lost control though and Sam had to help me get him off the ceiling.”
Floating?
“I never thought I would say that I am glad that they don’t have all their tricks yet. Imagine if either of them went intangible when they were infants. I would have had a heart attack,” Foley responded.
Intangibility?
“Tell me about it! Highschool would have been a hell of a time if either of their eyes started glowing. We wouldn’t have had babysitters while we were in class,” Fenton remarked.
Glowing eyes?
“We already hardly had babysitters. I remember taking Ellie to math class,” Foley seemed to chuckle at the memory.
Jason noted all of the strange things the two seemed to be expecting of the children at some point. It was definitely not non meta human type stuff. One thing he did note though was that they seemed to have had the kids since infancy which at least boosts the chances of the children being their own and not trafficked or stolen.
Fenton got up apparently to use the restroom and Foley got up from his seat to sit in Fenton’s while he was gone. More suspicious behavior. But from what Jason could tell, out of the two of them Fenton was the one who would be the first to react. He sat with the view first and only after his leaving did Foley feel the need to take up the same position.
Jason considered leaving right then but he knew that he wasn’t going to get answers that way. The other reason he didn’t leave right away was a message from Cass.
Cass: They are polyamorous.
Jason didn’t know what that meant. He sent back a question mark.
Cass: They are polyamorous. Fenton, Foley, and Manson are all dating each other. They raise the kids together in one household with 3 parents.
Jason thought about it. That would make sense as to why they all shared one address. There was one thing though that it did open up. If Fenton was indeed dating both of the other two, that would mean that he was attracted to women. The kids biologically very well could have been his and he was simply a teen dad.
Jason: Has Manson mentioned carrying them or any mention of a mother?
Cass: No. She treats them as her own but she shows no sign of previous pregnancy. Plus neither of them look like Sam at all.
Jason: Noted. Keep me updated.
If Manson wasn’t the biological mother, it didn’t mean someone else couldn’t have been one. Jason didn’t really know how any of this polyamory stuff worked but from the way Foley was describing it, the relationship had already been established when the children entered their lives. Unless Fenton was unfaithful in some way? Jason sighed, biting his knuckles as he felt the pressure in his chest. The pits were acting up.
Jason looked up from his phone once he felt it calm down just to see blue eyes glaring at him. Fenton was standing a few feet from his table, his eyes staring directly into Jason’s soul. The man looked offended as if Jason had done something to him.
Suddenly he felt the Lazarus pits acting up again. It felt like he was shot through the chest with a spear of ice. Like… he was getting told off for saying something bad. And it felt like… it came from Fenton? Somehow?
Jason tried to make sense of it, looking at the man in front of him but he seemed to be satisfied with whatever the fuck that was and went back to his table, giving Foley a kiss on the cheek.
“You alright Danny? You glitched for a second there,” Foley said.
Fenton scoffed, “Some dead guy’s core let out a signal that pissed me off. Tried to insinuate that I cheated on you and Sam. Fucking prick.”
Jason panicked. How did this fucker know he died? Things were getting weirder and weirder and now this guy knew things about him that he shouldn’t have… he had to keep following these guys.
Okay so Jason didn’t get much after that. He followed Fenton and Foley back to WE from a distance. Or at least at a distance that was far enough for the pits to not act up. Ever since Fenton got close to him at the restaurant, the pits were going crazy. It was like the man made it feel different. There was no anger or violent urge. It was like he wanted to do something but he didnt really know what it was. But he knew it wasn’t hitting people like usual.
Nothing much happened and once he and Cass were recalled to the Batcave, he retreated and went to go meet B and the others. Even Tim had taken a lunch break for once to meet up.
“So what are your reports,” Bruce asked.
Before Jason could get a word out, Cass started signing excitedly and very fast. He didn’t catch hardly any of it.
“Cass, slow down a bit,” Bruce said trying his best to sign back what he knew.
Jason paid closer attention this time as Cass signed at a pace everyone could understand.
“I think Sam is really nice and a good mom. We went to the school together to pick up the twins and they were very happy children. Ellie was very bubbly and and Dante was much calmer. Sam took us to the park to get ice cream after and we talked a lot. She, Danny, and Tucker are in a polyamorous relationship and are raising the kids together. They said that they were open as well if any of them wanted to date others. They trust each other a lot and love the kids a lot. Sam had good values and was teaching the kids the same. I think they are unconventional but very happy as a family. Like us.”
Jason watched as the others nodded, some seeming to understand it more than others. Someone was definitely going to have to sit Bruce down and explain it. He was also going to ask for more of a crash course later. Probably from Cass directly. Or maybe Babs if she knew.
After a few moments of processing what he did understand Bruce turned to Jason, “And what did you find out.”
“Shit’s weird with Fenton. I’m going to go back and get more intel,” Jason stated, “But from what I got on the kids? They’ve been taking care of them since infancy. Mentioned parenting them as babies in high school. And they seem to think that they are going to develop powers. Glowing eyes and intangibility. Fenton mentioned the boy Dante being able to float already. Definitely metas.”
“Maybe we are being over paranoid. It sounds like a teen pregnancy situation in a small town where paperwork isn’t always filed properly,” said Steph, putting her hands in her hips.
Jason shook his head, “Nah that Fenton guy is fucking weird. Did shit that Bruce taught us. Made sure the table was seated in a corner where he had a view of every exit. Civilians don’t do that shit.”
“Only people who are expecting a fight do,” Tim agreed.
The entire room knew that was one of the first things Bruce taught them when it came to safety in public. In their line of work they always had to be vigilant for every possibility.
Bruce conceded, “Jason, keep following Fenton. I have some things I need to look up I think.”
Danny was fucking PISSED. How fucking dare that guy have the nerve to not only think that but then broadcast the insinuation from his weak ass core? He would never EVER cheat on Sam and Tucker! He would NEVER betray their trust like that!
He fiddled with his newest clock commission angrily, his core feeling personally attacked. There was a gear that wasn’t really working right and he was probably going to have to remake it but honestly he didn’t really care at the moment.
“Danny…” he heard Sam call. Her voice made his core purr, feeling the slightest bit better.
Danny leaned up from his clock and looked to see his beautiful girlfriend in the doorway, “Hi Sam.” He sighed, trying to let the anger fall away. How could he ever betray his loves?
Sam must have read his face like a book because she walked over and slid her arms around him from behind.
“You’re brooding baby,” she cooed, leaving a kiss on his cheek.
“I just can’t believe that guy! The fucking nerve,” Danny growled. Though his growl didn’t have any sort of malice behind it at the moment. Sam knew how to calm him down. Physical touch was one of his love languages.
“Danny it’s been a week since you saw him on your date. And you put him in his place. I know you would never do that. Tuck knows. That’s all that matters,” she said softly.
She was right of course. But Danny’s ghost instincts were super protective and he couldn’t help it sometimes. But again, she was right. He let himself take a deep breath mostly for her benefit to show he was trying to get over it.
“Good. Keep taking deep breaths. It’s okay to feel protective and it’s okay to let the feeling subside when the danger is gone,” Sam continued to talk softly, knowing she could talk sweetly to him until he felt better.
It was working. Danny focused on letting his core relax, the danger was gone. The only entities in his haunt were himself, his partners, and his children. No threat.
Next thing Danny heard was whooshing sounds as his kiddos flew into the room, both in their ghost forms. Their hair was white and their eyes glowed. Ellie’s glowed green and Dante’s glowed red.
When Dante first transformed, Danny, Tuck and Sam were unsure if they were going to be red or green since they were red back when he was Dan. When they did glow red, Danny guessed that it was most likely because it was what was familiar to him.
“Dante found a cool rock,” Ellie said excitedly.
Dante then presented the cool rock for Danny and Sam to look at. It was purple and looked like one of the crystals Sam liked to collect.
“Where did you find it,” he asked, just to make sure they didn’t just steal it from the collection Sam kept in her room.
“It was on the floor in Papa’s office,” Dante said proudly. Ah. It must have fallen out of one of Sam’s pockets at some point.
Danny smiled, looking at his son’s pride in finding it, “Good find buddy!” He turned his head to look at Sam, “What kind of rock is it Momma?”
Sam ceremoniously took the rock from Dante and used Danny’s bright work table lamp to get a look at it, “This seems to be a purple amethyst. Good work Dante.” She smiled brightly, encouraging the excitement of the kiddos for the find.
“Purple amythest,” Ellie repeated excitedly.
“It’s really pretty Momma,” Dante said, looking at the small polished stone. Danny could feel his son’s core buzzing happily about it.
“Why don’t you keep it in your room Dante? Then you can look at it whenever you want to,” Sam said smiling and giving it back to the floating red eyed child.
“Really?” Dante asked.
“Of course kiddo,” Danny added. He felt Dante’s core give off a burst of happiness. It made him smile.
“I’ll go put it in my room!” the boy said happily and flew through the wall out of the room.
Ellie then began to pout, “How come I don’t get a pretty rock?”
“When you find one, you’ll get to keep it too,” Sam smiled, “Now I believe your Papa mentioned a Bluey marathon scheduled for tonight. Why don’t you go get your brother and maybe together you can convince Papa to make you some popcorn?”
Danny felt Ellie’s core start to buzz with excitement and determination as she nodded and flew out of the room fast.
Once Ellie was out of the room, Sam gave Danny a kiss on the cheek, “Since Tuck is watching the kids tonight, how about we go get you some more relaxed?”
Danny chuckled, feeling his core buzz. He closed up the clock he had been working on and came to a stand, facing Sam.
“More like wear me out,” he said, giving her a kiss.
“Well of course,” Sam smirked as she took his hand and led him to her bedroom.
Jason watched Fenton for like a week. A whole ass week and he got absolutely nothing on the guy. The only times he ever left his house was for dates with either Foley or Manson or to pick up his kids. At this point Jason was positive they were his in some capacity. The DNA proved that much and he seemed like a pretty standard stay home dad. There was one time that week where after school he took Dante and Ellie to an observatory but as long as Jason wasn’t close enough for the pits to react to him he seemed like just some guy.
Jason slumped onto the couch in the first floor living room of the manor. He didn’t like being here but everyone was out busy today and apparantly someone in the family needed to be there to sign off on some sort of delivery. He didn’t understand why Alfred couldn’t just sign it but the butler had refused, insisting that Jason be the one to do it. It was so annoying.
It wasn’t like he had anything to do that day anyways. Periodically he had all his guys in his organization take a day off and he had promised them today. Not to mention he was “on rest” from patrolling after his fucking helmet broke after falling down a fire escape. Embarrassing as fuck. But he still had to wait for a new one because that was his last spare.
He just didn’t understand. On the surface level, Fenton seemed like a normal ass dude. But he knew what he felt. And knew what he heard. The fucker could tell Jason was kind of dead. And he did.. something to him at that restaurant. The pits kept pulling him toward the guy like he was some sort of fucking magnet.
“Master Jason, the delivery is at the front door sir,” Alfred said appearing out of fucking nowhere.
“Thank you Alfred,” he said as he got up to go do the stupid signing thing. Once it was done, he could jet outta there and start following Fenton around again.
Jason made his way to the front door and opened it only to find it was none other than the creepy fucker himself. The pits sparked in his chest making him squeeze the door a little too hard.
“You,” said the pale man, his eyes burning with disgust. The pits didn’t like that. Suddenly, Jason had an urge to make sure the anger on the man’s face went away. At first Jason thought that was fucking stupid but honestly… being nice might be a good plan.
Now that they were face to face in proper lighting, Jason was able to really get a good look at Daniel Fenton. Of course he knew what the guy looked like. Obviously. He had been stalking him. But this was the first time he had been able to really register it.
Like he had noted before, his hair was dark and he was pale as fuck. But what he hadn’t seen before was the way his hair was blacker than anything he had ever seen before, shining in places that the locks caught the light almost like little stars in a night sky. His eyes were big and bold, an icy hue that that sent shivers down the spine. He was pale of course but not in the way that made one think he had never seen sun before, more in the way that dead bodies look during funerals. All the blood drained from the body. His cheekbones were sharp giving his face a sunken in look like he was malnourished even though Jason fucking knew he wasn’t. His stature was lean and lanky but clearly he was hiding some muscle because he was carrying a big ass clock that no doubt weighed a shit ton like it was nothing.
Jason hated to admit it. He really did. However. Daniel Fenton was attractive.
Danny couldn’t fucking believe it. That dead motherfucker was a Wayne. His core buzzed with anger and he had to take a breath to calm it.
“Yeah it’s me,” said the asshole.
Danny sighed and maneuvered the clock into one arm and gave paper to the guy, “Just sign it.”
Now after doing this he realized that casually holding a heavy ass clock like a football was not the normal thing to do since the man obviously took note of it as he stared a little too long before taking the sign form. However, he already made the decision and he was gonna have to stick to the bit.
Once this guy signed the paper and took the clock he could just leave. Just fucking go. And he could make a note to never take a commission from this address again so he wouldn’t have to see him again. He could do that.
“Hey, I’m sorry about what happened,” the really fucking large man said as he signed the paper. Danny checked the guy’s core. He was being genuine. And it was also giving off confused vibes. Ancients, why- This guy didn’t even know what he did. Fucking of course. Ughhhh and now because Danny was a good person he was gonna have to explain it to him. Fucking great.
Danny sighed, “It’s… fine. Where do you want me to install the clock?” He wasn’t going to talk about this shit openly. He could do it once they were inside.
The man seemed confused but let him in anyways, “I don’t really know where B wants it. For now I guess you could put it on this table over here.”
Danny noted the small table in the entrance hall and put it down where he was told to. Once his hands were free, he collected the sign form from the man and folded it, storing it away in his back pocket.
“Now, I assume you have a shit ton of questions,” he said.
The tall man nodded, “So fucking many.”
A butler escorted them to a sitting room of sorts and disappeared again without a sound.
“Are you okay with him possibly overhearing any information I give you….” Danny realized he didn’t actually know this guy’s name.
“Yeah that’s fine,” said the man, sitting in a chair. Danny decided to sit across from him on a couch. It was off putting how docile this guy was acting with just how fucked up his core seemed to be.
“My name is Daniel Fenton. You can call me Danny. It seems you were never really explained to about this whole being dead thing,” Danny started. He didn’t really know how to go about this. With Dante and Ellie it had always been free knowledge for them to ask about whenever they needed but there was no sit down conversation where he had to like, reveal their identities or anything.
“No. I wasn’t aware there were rules,” the man said, a smile tugging at his lips at his own joke. Now normally, Danny would laugh at that. Because let’s be honest, he would. But he was a bit caught up in realizing that this guy he spent that last week hating was fucking huge. Tall as fuck. At least 6 foot. And his wingspan had be just fucking outrageous. His shoulders were wider than Danny’s front door at home.
Once he noticed that, Danny took an actual good look at the guy. His hair was black mostly, with a signature white streak in the front, no doubt a side effect of dying. It seemed to be a permanent feature rather than something brought on by transformation like for Danny and his kiddos. His eyes were blue, a solemn almost sad blue but they were still very beautiful. He had eyebags for days, probably didn’t get the proper nutrition very often only eating human food with no ecto in his diet. Sleep was probably not a thing either. He was nothing but muscle all over, no doubt an effect of him dying and then getting better. He was covered in scars as well that looked as though they healed a little too quickly to be proper. All in all, everything pointed to gaining the very sliver of his ghost powers without any of them making it to the finish line. Even so, he was the type of guy anyone with eyeballs would swoon over.
“Mr…… Wayne?” Danny guessed. He immediately felt the man’s core recoil in disgust. Okay so not Wayne.
“Todd. My name is Jason Todd. My dad is Wayne. Not me. Just- just call me Jason,” the man said quickly.
Danny nodded and redirected, “Jason, before I start explaining all this stuff, when did you die and how come that’s not the case anymore?”
He again felt Jason’s core want to pull back but none the less he still answered, “I was… I don’t know? 15-16? I don’t fucking remember it was a while ago. Anyways, apparently I got revived by the Lazarus Pits so I was only dead for like 6 months or something.”
Danny nodded solemnly. He knew what it was like to die young. And of course Jason’s core and ghost powers were all fucked up. Those pits were nothing but a shit ton of toxic, contaminated ecto. He wasn’t surprised that when given the chance to create a halfa they would do it in the shittiest way possible.
“Okay so basically, you’re gonna want to buckle in cuz this is about to be a lot,” Danny said, making himself comfortable. They were gonna be here a while.
Tim paced his office. Back and forth back and forth back and forth back and forth back and forth. This was a bad idea. Yes, the Fentons had been cleared but it was still a bad idea. To be honest, he didn’t really want to think about the fact that his favorite employee had been searched by his family for suspicious behavior a month ago.
Yes. His favorite employee. Tucker Foley. Not just his favorite employee but the best one who had never turned in a report late or found a problem he couldn’t fix. Technically his name was Tucker Fenton but the name change wasn’t official yet. Polyamorous marriage was illegal so the family had to send in papers to change their names legally so they would share a last name with their children.
Tim had been eyeing Tucker since he met him which was honestly far too long after he had joined the company. He had been so busy that he had never actually seen the guy face to face until he happened to pass his office and saw the man dutifully typing away at his computer.
He remembered just how immediately he noticed the attractiveness of the man and at first was sad to hear he was in a relationship. He thought he was with a woman named Sam at first. And then a few weeks later he started seeing Danny in the office too. Tucker was poly. Had two partners. And two children with them. A family man.
Then his family started tracking them all and it gave him an excuse to hang around Tucker at the office as much as possible. Of course he only ever got normal vibes from the guy until he noticed some background tabs running on the PDA he used alongside the desktop the company provided.
Of course Tim found time during a date Danny and Tucker went on for lunch to snoop through it. The tabs were all mostly data except one that was in the process of breaking down a government firewall with a prewritten program. Some organization called the GIW. Tim looked through the rest of the computer. There were files on Tim and the rest of his family. Files on WE. Files on the company’s funding and where it all went. He had done his homework before taking the job clearly.
Of course it all looked suspicious at the time. But things had changed since then. Danny Fenton had sat Jason down and explained a lot of things. Who they were, why they were in Gotham. Who they used to be. It made alot of sense.
And it made sense why Danny readily shared the information so freely. After Tim found the files on the PDA, of course he hacked it and sent it over to Babs. After Jason made a fool of himself at the restaurant, the PDA started having files added to it. Of the Bats and the birds. And a very well written and polite file stating that Tucker knew his PDA was fucked with. The vigilante files were his way of telling everyone he knew who they were.
So the Tucker guy was fucking smart and didn’t really give two shits about computer privacy. Now any normal sane person would have found this very concerning but for Tim it only fueled the highly inappropriate crush he had begun to develop on the guy. How hot is it that the guy was cordial enough to write a file detailing that he knew they were watching him and that he was honored to have been hacked?
So… there Tim was in his office. Pacing. He was about to do the craziest shit. He was about to ask out the hot guy from the tech department. Was it a good idea? No. Absolutely not. This guy was about as crazy as he was. Oh but he liked that. He really fucking liked that. He also loved the tracker he found in his shirt after stopping into the guys office to give him some paperwork. It had taken him about a week and a half to find it and since Tim only had 3 shirts he wore to the office, he wore it around alot in that time.
After that, Tim left his own tracker in Tucker’s PDA only for Babs to find a new file on it that simply stated, “Found it.”
How fucking hot was that? He found it in no time even after Tim had taken the time to make sure it was inside the thing. Since then they had been placing trackers on one another whenever they passed, taking turns and making sure the other knew when they had found it. Tucker was always faster. He had yet to take longer than 24 hours to find it no matter where Tim hid it. It was like the hottest kind of flirting Tim could fucking imagine.
So… now that Tucker was cleared of any suspicion, he was free game. When Cass told everyone in the Batcave that the relationship was open to other partners, he nearly had to turn around in order to hide the excitement from his face. He kept his cool though, obviously, he was a professional.
He didn’t mind Tucker Fenton having other partners. He didn’t mind that he had kids. He wasn’t the only one either. He could tell that Cass was crushing hard on Sam and sure enough a week ago, the two of them were official. Now he just had to make his move and ask Tucker out. That was all.
Tim heard a ding on his phone. He looked to see who it was. Barbara.
Babs: New file just got saved to the Fenton PDA.
Tim’s heart raced. Tucker had probably found the tracker he had slid under his collar during their meeting that morning.
Babs: You two really need to bone, this is getting ridiculous.
Tim: WHAT DID THE FILE SAY BABS
Babs: I didn’t open it. The file is literally titled “For Tim Drake (if anyone else opens this I’ll make sure a virus melts your software)”
Hot.
Tim: Pull it up on my desktop.
Babs: On its way you sicko.
Tim rushed to his computer to see a file open on the screen. It was a google doc that Tim was given permission to edit. At first, the doc seemed blank but he knew Tucker well enough now that he knew that there was more to it.
He used his mouse and clicked Select All and sure enough, white writing appeared on the screen. He changed it to black so he could read it properly and he found a series of dashes and dots. Morse code.
Tim felt his heart rate rise at the little game. He had told Tucker in passing that he couldn’t read Morse code but he knew how to sit down and translate it if he wanted to. And the man was so perfect he had remembered.
Tim got out a piece of paper and started decoding the message that looked to be like a poem of sorts. It didn’t take long at all. It turned out to be a series of quotes from media and literature that Tim had at one point brought up enjoying in passing.
“All we can know is that we know nothing. And that is the height of human wisdom.”
“She had an evil face, smoothed by hypocrisy; but her manners were excellent.”
“Knowledge is power.”
“Memory is not what the heart desires. That is only a mirror.”
“Elementary, my dear Watson.”
“O Captain! My Captain!”
“Unless I be relieved by prayer, which pierces so, that it assaults mercy itself, and frees all faults. As you from crimes would pardon'd be, let your indulgence set me free.”
“To die would be an awfully great adventure.”
Tim stared at the quotes knowing that there was more meaning to them. Knowing Tucker, there was probably a certain letter or word from each phrase he needed. He wasn’t provided with a key to solve it so it must have been pretty simple. Then he got it. And his heart raced.
He responded by calling his secretary to tell one Tucker Fenton (Foley) that he needed to send in in his schedule for the next week.
Not 20 minutes later did he see new writing on the google doc, “I’m free Friday night.” Who cared if it was a bad idea.
Tim smiled wide, texting Babs excitedly.
Tim: TELL B I CANT PATROL ON FRIDAY
Babs: Why?
Tim: IM GOING ON A DATE
Little did Tim know that the moment Barbara saw the message, she breathed a sigh of relief, “Fucking finally.”
Okay so here was the deal. After Danny had explained everything (including the pits actually being a core and the fact that Danny’s children were the de-aged results of cloning and timeline fuckery), he had started helping Jason stabilize his core. And Jason was thankful for that but at the same time… as more and more time went on spending his off moments with the guy, his core was acting all kinds of weird. He didn’t really know how to tell Danny about it because the last time he had tried to explain the weird pull and very odd pleased hum his core had whenever he was around Danny, the guy had waved it off as because he was the Ghost King and all that. Jason was trying to believe that was the case but now that he was in the Fenton household sitting across from Danny in his workshop… it was hard to ignore.
“Well Jason, you definitely look a lot better than a week ago,” Danny said while staring into Jason’s chest. He knew that it was because his core was supposedly around that area but with the fact that he was wearing a t shirt that had shrunk in the shitty dryer in his apartment, he was feeling a little exposed.
“That’s good,” he said clenching his fist to try and ignore the almost purring sensation his core made at the compliment.
“Just a few months and you’ve been reconstructing it really well,” Danny said continuing to stare.
Jason nodded, he had been trying to do the things Danny told him to, added pure ecto to his diet and tried being more open to listen to his core. Although most of the work had been done by Danny, placing his hands on Jason’s chest, shuffling his shattered core pieces around and trying to fit them back together. It had been a joke for a long time that he “came back wrong” but according to the literal Ghost King, it was actually fucking true.
Jason noticed Danny was still staring. His core buzzed, liking the attention. He had to try and distract himself.
“So I noticed when I came in it was awfully quiet. Normally Dante and Ellie meet me at the door,” he said, clenching his fist tighter. He had to change the subject.
Danny looked up from his chest, “Oh uh yeah. Sam and Cass are on a date and Tucker took the kids out to an escape room with Tim. So it’s uh… just us at home at the moment.”
Jason wasn’t as good at reading body language as Cass but he knew enough to know that Danny was acting stiff around him which he wasn’t used to since before they started his core reconstruction therapy.
“I get you all to myself then,” he said chuckling trying to be lighthearted. Was Jason normally this civil around other people? Fuck no. But with Danny… he really couldn’t help it. It honestly felt more like the old him before he died. Before he went all… murder psycho because he literally came back wrong.
He watched as the shorter man in front of him began to actually gain some color in his cheeks. Holy hell he didn’t know Danny was capable of that. He thought the dead guy look was a permanent thing. Jason kind of liked it though.
“I guess you do,” Danny said allowing a small smirk onto his face.
Oh. OH. Jason’s core really liked that. And it must have done one of those things where it told all the other dead people around because Danny’s smile grew wider. What Jason didn’t expect was feeling a mutual positive energy from Danny’s core in response.
Jason felt his own cheeks start to burn the slightest bit, not really knowing why.
“Actually Jason… I didn’t ask you here today just to check on your core. Or because I’m technically your king and I can,” Danny said.
Ah yeah that. Jason knew that because he was dead Danny was technically like, royalty to him. But it had never really clicked since he never acted all high and mighty like that whenever they were together. Which was a lot. But now that Danny mentioned it… he technically could have have power over Jason that he could use whenever he wanted.
His cheeks burned a bit more at that, his core reacting the same way it did before. He really needed to get more control over the sending out core vibes thing because Danny reacted to it again.
The Ghost King’s cheeks grew pink, “I didn’t know you were into that,” he said, leaning back in his chair, the motion causing light to reflect off of his hair like stars, “I wanted to talk to you because your core has been flirting with me non stop since we started your reconstruction therapy.”
Ah fuck. Jason knew Danny was hot but his core was really betraying him by telling him that.
He looked away, embarrassed. Admittedly, it wasn’t like the thought to flirt hadn’t ever crossed his mind. After Babs, with come help from Cass, really explained what polyamory was to him, he had entertained the idea once just to see what would happen but Jason very honestly didn’t know if he liked the idea himself or if it was just his core longing to be close to its king. Or at least that what he was telling himself
“Listen I’m not mad Jason,” Danny said. Jason felt cold fingers brush his cheek to turn his head to face the man. His body reacted the same way if always did when Danny touched his chest for reconstruction. Like a very pleasant bolt of lightning had stuck him, the buzz spreading throughout his body.
Jason knew Danny was a touchy kind of person and he had accepted that but god fucking damn it was still a lot of physical feeling from one touch that he wasn’t used to.
Jason had dated other guys before. He had been more than close and personal with a few. But touch was always a dull feeling when it came to anybody. Danny was the only person he could really… feel. Like back when he was alive. Every touch felt real and not disconnected. He could actually feel the pressure of a hand on his skin and the tingle of when skin brushed his own. It was… electrifying for the lack of a better term.
“I just want to talk about it,” Danny said.
Jason didn’t know how to talk. He didn’t even really know how he felt. He was running on pure instinct and LOTS of willpower to fight said instinct.
“Danny, I- don’t know how-,” Jason started, not really knowing how to communicate into words about it. Clearly he didn’t have to as he could tell his core had betrayed him again.
“It’s okay. I can talk. And if I say anything you don’t like or agree with, you can let me know. How’s that?” Danny asked. It was right about now Jason noticed that Danny hadn’t let go of his face and he was really close. His core liked that. And honestly, so did he. Jason didn’t mind staring into those big blue eyes for a bit. He nodded.
“I like you Jason,” Danny started. Jason’s core? Loved that. But Jason’s brain and probably his heart was waiting for the “but.”
“And so does my core. I think you are good for me,” Danny continued. There was no “but.” It made Jason’s innards do a fucking somersault into the splits.
“Wait you do?” Jason asked, studying Danny’s face. He was still blushing which was a good sign but sometimes you just need to be sure and double check you know?
Danny nodded, making Jason’s core buzz excitedly. Now up until this moment, Jason was very much repressing his own thoughts when it came to Danny. He was slow to catch up when it came to, well, feelings. Well let’s just say Jason was all caught up now. And his cheeks were burning as his lips curled into a smirk.
Jason felt a very strong core response from his king, full of flustered and dare he say lustful emotion that made his core and his chest burn with a desire to pull towards him.
Jason was no good with words. Terrible infact. And Danny knew that about him. So if he had any chance of communicating effectively, he had to take his foot off the brake and let his instinct do what it wanted.
“I’m about to do something stupid,” Jason warned. And then he pulled Danny closer into a kiss.
He felt Danny’s core purr in response as Jason’s lips felt like they were dancing on lightning. Everything felt right. He let his core say whatever the hell it wanted because it knew what to do. He just focused on how right right everything felt.
After they broke apart from the kiss, mostly because Jason needed air in a way Danny really didn’t, he locked eyes with the gorgeous man in front of him. Now that he wasn’t restraining himself, he was letting himself take in Danny’s beauty.
“Be my boyfriend,” Danny breathed, an icy sensation tickled Jason’s ear as Danny’s breath left the slightest bit of an icy fog in the air.
“Deal,” Jason responded, his breath catching up.
Jason’s body burned with sensation and he wondered if this was what being alive felt like and Danny pulled him into another deep kiss and hurriedly dragged him to a bedroom.
Extra:
Bruce at some point after all this: Where are all of my children?
Alfred: Well sir, almost half of them are at the Fenton household at the moment and the others…
Bruce didn’t even listen to the rest, he just sighed. He should have known. Fentons had that effect. He still remembered Jack from college.
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17020 · 6 months ago
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BLUEPRINT
Soshiro Hoshina is great at following blueprints and maps, always finding his way back to you. Right?
TAGS . . . fluff/crack, clingy Hoshina, reader is called 'beautiful', this is my first time writing for kn8, expect more in the future! dedicated to @nyxypoo , for helping me organize my brainrot, and also to @maruflix , for introducing me to the manga in the first place.
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Soshiro "Don't get attached to anyone" Hoshina had finally come to terms with the fact that, in order to sleep he needed warmth; one which only a human could provide.
Which is why he found himself in the wee hours of the morning completely awake, unable to catch a wink of sleep. His fingers desperately tapped over the screen of his phone, typing a message. When he sent it, his attention shifted to the background photo of his chat—a picture of a certain officer watching the sunset on the dormitories' terrace.
SOSHI <3 02:41 When are you cominggg I need you
YOU 02:41 I'm going in rn, I'll be there in 5
SOSHI <3 02:42 I'll get the toolbox then Good luck, sweetheart
Having been sworn to secrecy by Soshiro himself, you could not afford to have anyone find out about your relationship with the Third Division's vice-captain. It could jeopardize your job as a platoon leader, and also put both of your lives at risk. Because gossip flows like an endless river, and could eventually reach higher-ups, or worse, an identified kaiju disguised in human flesh.
You carefully aligned the screwdriver with the last screw left. Twisting it, you took it off and placed it with the other three under your pillow, inhaling deeply before taking off the vent panel and sliding in.
You knew the route like the back of your hand, the flashlight from your phone now deemed as unnecessary, for the amount of times in which you crawled through the Third Division's vent systems exceeded the hundreds. The cameras in the hallways would deem it suspicious if you went to sneak out to Soshiro's room directly, which is why you settled on using the vents.
You crawled and crawled, turning every few minutes until you reached your opening. Poking your head out you saw your boyfriend, waiting for you with open arms.
"Aww, is my little worm ready to be carried?" he cooed, his arms now on your sides as he pulled you towards him. You scoffed at the name, "You call me a worm again and I won't help you ever again."
He tilted his head back as he laughed, heading back to his bed, which had the covers already pulled back. He climbed in and patted the spot next to him, grinning from ear to ear when you laid next to him as he took the opportunity to place his head on your chest and wrap his arms around your waist.
"You've no idea how much I missed ya, darlin'."
"We saw each other in the cafeteria a few hours ago, Soshi" you smiled, your fingers running through his hair. You felt him pout as he whined, stating that a few hours were enough to drive him wild.
"Y'know that's not enough, beautiful."
When you agreed to date the Soshiro Hoshina you knew what you were signing up for. Every breathing moment, the vice-captain had to have his hands on you, whether it was his hand grazing yours during meetings, to him latching on to you in order to sleep.
You were his drug. Plain and simple.
It didn't take long for your boyfriend to fall asleep. Your presence alone was comforting, with your body offering him the peace and quiet that he longed for after a hard day at work. Unbeknownst to him, you took a bit longer to join him in dreamland, as you first had to hear the little sentences your boyfriend murmured here and there while fully asleep.
On tonight's menu? "...jus' wanna... be like this... forever."
Apparently, 'forever' lasted for around... half a day. 'Forever' did not include an incident with a honju, which ended up in you having to stay in the infirmary, after stepping in to help someone from your platoon.
Bed rest was mandatory. Those were the orders given to you by the vice-captain, after all. Having encountered and fought a fungal-type kaiju, he demanded you spend the night in the infirmary, in case there were any issues with spores.
Soshiro eyed the photo on his phone various times, only stopping to check the time. 1:34 am. Good enough, right?
SOSHI <3 01:35 Alright beautiful, I'm going in I think you're gonna have to get up from the bed to let me in tho I'll let you know when I'm there
YOU 01:36 The iv is in my left arm so I'll be good Good luck, handsome!!
The flashlight on Soshiro's phone was on, the photo on his screen displaying the blueprint of the vent system. The trajectory was simple: go straight, then right, then right again, and then straight into the infirmary vents. Plus, it would be way easier for him to recognize, as you promised him you would play some music from your phone for him to know which room it was.
And so, Soshiro Hoshina embarked on what could be the hardest mission of his life. He wondered how you were able to do this every night without fail, then do it again in the morning before the other platoon leaders woke up. He gained newfound admiration for you as he crawled his way into your room, his forehead red from hitting his head against dead ends multiple times.
At last, he found the panel.
There it was, the soft classical music playing in the room. Weird, he thought, Yn never really listens to this type of music. He shrugged it off, believing that it might have been a special signal just for him.
"Psst—hey—special delivery coming through."
Silence. You must have fallen asleep.
"Yn" he whisper-yelled, "Angel, open the vent for me, yeah? It's kinda cramped in here."
No response.
He sighed as he pressed the call button, uncomfortably holding the phone against his ear. When he noticed your phone didn't ring, he assumed it was silenced. The vibrations surely would wake you up, right?
YOU: Soshi, are you here? I don't see you anywhere
SOSHI <3: Angel I'm here, I followed the music—didn't know ya liked classical
YOU: Classical? Baby, I'm playing Ciara.
SOSHI <3: Then whose room am I in?
The moment Soshiro heard the growl of a feline, he ended the call.
SOSHI <3 02:53 HOLY SHHIT I THINK I ENDED UP IN CAPTAIN ASHIRO'S ROOM
YOU 02:53 HOSHINA THAT WAS ON THE OTHER SIDE DID YOU EVEN READ THE BLUEPRINT???
SOSHI <3 02:54 Oh so I'm Hoshina now. You don't love me. Btw I'm stuck and Bakko found me I love you
"Vice-captain Hoshina? Is that you in the vent?"
Soshiro Hoshina swore he had shit his pants.
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