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#and today i decided to mess around with that photo
constantlyfalling · 2 years
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Get in! No time to explain!
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tender-rosiey · 1 year
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pretty babies – gojo satoru x f!reader
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a/n: idk about yall but I love me some drunk gojo
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satoru never drinks, but when he does, ohoho, you’re in for quite the ride.
today was one of the days when he was less of a chaotic handful but more of an emotional mess who apparently can’t even remember his own wife. you sip on your drink, ignoring the drunk satoru leaning on the bar.
he slurs his words as he tries to flirt, “you’re sooo pretty, y’know that?”
you nod with a hum and give him no further reaction. in situations like these, you figured out that letting him go all out until he is tired and sleepy is the best solution. it really is like treating a baby.
thankfully, after many years of being in the presence of one gojo satoru, you’ve built up some patience.
he rests his head on the counter and he looks up at you, eyes wide and in awe, “I bet,” he hiccups and it is followed by a silly little giggle, “we’d make superrrr cute babies! like all round and chubby and we’d much on their cheeks like…mochi! yes! mochi…now I am hungry.”
a smirk makes an appearance on your face as you glance at satoru who is blabbering about building a family with you and spoiling you rotten.
a little teasing won’t harm anyone. so you quip, “you know,” and his attention is already on you, “you already gave me three super cute babies.”
his mouth is wide open in disbelief as he sits up, “no way!”
“yup! and they’re waiting at home for us.”
his eyes crinkle because of his wide grin, “really?!” he pulls you into a bone-crushing hug, “you got photos?! please tell me that you do!” and he switches to a pout so quickly, it gives you whiplash.
however, you gladly pull out your phone and show him the multitude of photos you have.
ones ranging from him being in a crib to help the youngest one sleep to ones with two of the three kids ganging up on him and him desperately calling for your help. satoru goes through every single photo, head on your shoulder and cheek squished.
he is silent throughout it all and when he is done, he looks up at you, “so that means that you’re my wife?”
you nod and your fingers, naturally, find their place on his head. he feels a little shiver of satisfaction before he smiles, one lovesick and silly smile, “I really hit the jackpot.”
you laugh, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, “I guess you did.”
so you take him back home where the kids are already asleep. satoru crashes on the bed right away, steady breaths filling the room. slowly, you take your place beside him and you feel his arms wrap around you.
he pulls you closer and buries his face in your hair. and you close your eyes, letting yourself be lulled to the land of dreams.
when you do wake up, you’re greeted by satoru literally on top of you and deep in sleep. you would like to let him sleep more especially since he looks so comfortable, but you’re going to suffocate at this rate. so you pat his back lightly, “satoru, honey, wake up.”
he groans and buries his face in the crook of your neck, grumbling something along the lines of ‘five more minutes’.
not budging? then fine, you decide. you take as deep of a breath as you can then call for your kids, “who will help mama?!”
it’s quiet and you can feel satoru smirking against your skin. it looks like he won, but then a bunch of footsteps are heard and it’s your turn to smirk.
your husband lifts his head to glare at you—of course, not without sporting one of his famous pouts.
the door is then slammed open and your eldest son is there, “WHO DARES HURT OUR MAMA?!”
he gasps, very dramatically like a certain someone, and points at his dad, “PAPA?! you’re suffocating mama!”
“again?!” your daughter pops up from behind her brother, staring at her dad in disbelief.
they both stand beside your bed glaring at him and he glares back, the three of them forgetting why you called for your kids in the first place. so you do them a favor and remind them, “satoru…I AM GOING TO DIE LIKE THIS!”
satoru is pulled  back by his shirt and your kids take turns in—trying—to beat him up. you get up, greedily breathing air till you’re satisfied. you ignore the screams of your husband until you’re done with your morning routine.
luckily enough, when you got out of the bathroom, you found no one except your husband.
laying on the ground.
presumably dead.
with a bunch of drawings on his face and his hair contained with multiple hair bands.
you snap a picture of him very quickly then you sit on the ground next to his corpse. you poke his butt and he groans, making you giggle, “what happened to the strongest sorcerer?”
he turns towards you with a small frown, “his pretty wife didn’t kiss him good morning so he had no energy to fight,” his head snaps towards the two tiny figures giggling behind the door, “these monsters.”
they squeal and run away once again before he catches them.
you gently take the hair bands off, “you’re lucky that our youngest devil is still asleep,” you then smooth down his hair and pat his head, “I love the smiley faces on your cheeks.”
he whines and rests his head on your shoulder, “stop bullying me!”
you hum and stroke his hair, “you know, you did something pretty cute yesterday.”
“I am always cute; what’re you talking about?”
“you flirted with me, your wife, and said we would make ‘super cute!’ babies,” you reveal and satoru seems unbothered. in fact, he seems proud and very happy with himself so you continue, “so I had to remind you of our three little devils and then I showed you pictures.”
he stands up, posing all confidently, “what can I say? I excel at everything even being cute—“
“then you cried like a little baby when I showed you my picture post labor and kept apologizing.”
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
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warnersister · 5 months
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Personal Space
Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x reader
Summary: you love your personal space. Unfortunately, Bradley also loves your personal space.
Pt. 2
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You never understood why Bradley stuck around. Since the academy you’d preferred to stick to yourself; get your head down and get the job done. Especially with a surname like Mitchell. You didn’t want your father and grandfather’s reputation to negatively proceed you, and by the time people had put two and two together as to whom loins you came from: you’d made your own reputation so Maverick never made much of a difference to it.
But still, having dinner in the mess you’d sat down, when someone came and thudded down next to you and began eating themselves. “I’m Bradley” he said when you finally looked up at him. You raised a brow “Bradshaw?” You ask and he nods: you recognise him from the photos your dad pinned up in your two’s hanger. You hum “and you are?” He asks “not important.” You reply, deciding you’d lost your appetite and stood to clear your plate “good talk!” Bradley said, but you were already walking away.
He’d next encountered you when you were running around the academy, early morning; before any naval training would take place. He hummed and decided it was perfectly acceptable to interrupt your jaunt with his presence. “Hey! Up so early?” He asks as he tries to match your pace from a standstill “could ask you the same.” You reply bluntly “well I wanted to get a run in before-” “well there’s your answer.” You reply, cutting him off. “You run really quick.” He says as you try to keep your pace increasing to shake him off “goodbye, Bradshaw.” You say, pulling your sunglasses over your eyes and taking off at a pace he couldn’t sustain. He just stops and shakes his head smiling, you were funny.
Eventually, you’d both gotten up in the air and were quick to earn your callsigns “Rooster” and “Hen”. Bradley earned his because he was up before the chickens, you’d earned yours because the chicken kept fucking following you around like you were his mother. You were sat on the aircraft carrier, your trainee group learning how to land on a ship deck and you’d finally gotten a moment of peace that evening. You sat on the edge of the deck, feet dangling over the edge as you watched the sunset, not moving when you hear someone slip into the space between the barriers beside you.
“Oh look my chick is back.” You mumble sarcastically and Bradley laughs loudly at you. “You love me really” he says, looking at you as if he wanted to you agree with him “you seem to keep telling yourself that, don’t you?” You hum, turning to watch the sea lap against the grey metal. You can feel him fidgeting beside you, as if antsy to say something. “What?” You ask, finally turning to look at him. “What?” He repeats, looking at you with raised brows “you want to ask me something. You’re fidgeting.” You point out “so ask me or fuck off” you say, turning away again. “Your last name is Mitchell” he says and you roll your eyes “you can read and hear. Two things I’ve learnt today.” You huff, again, with sarcasm. “Are you related to Pete Mitchell?” He asks, looking at you and nearly holding his breath “you finally put two and two together?” You ask and he lets out the breath.
“Yeah, he’s my dad.” You say after a while “I was a whoopsie baby my mother didn’t want anything to do with” you tell him. “He used to fly with my dad.” Bradley almost whispers, voice just a few octaves above. “I know” you nod “he’s practically wallpapered all over our hanger.” You say “so are you” you eye him. “He pulled my papers” he says, again after a few moments of silence “I know” you say “do you know why?” He asks “yes.” You reply, and he could tell you weren’t going to elaborate. “Y’know I’m not a fan of your dad, but I really like you.” He says and you just look at him with a blank face. “Yup” you hum to yourself and he raises a brow “just as Mother Goose was described” you say, and Bradley’s face immediately lights up with a huge grin, stretching and arm around you and pulling you into his side.
“Get off me.” “Yup, yep, sorry.”
For your first deployment, the academy set it up that you’d at least be with one person from your training squadron, and today the list of names were coming out; they were scribbled on the back of a napkin and pinned to a notice board.
“1. Haywood & Solomons, 2. Hughes & Shelley & Omaha, 3. Cooper & Parker & Cromwell & Smith, 4. Bradshaw,” you crossed your fingers as someone read out the names, then yours was read alongside Bradley’s “oh for god’s sake” you grumble, turning to see Bradley practically jumping for joy. “This is great! Me and you, Hen!” Rooster cheers and you just stare at him “should’ve called you leech cause you’re acting like one. Calm down.” You instruct and he tries to chill out, but the cheeky smile on his face was indiminishagble.
He only became more unbearable then, with you every working hour, your wingman on the missions you’d fly, inseparable despite your complaints. “Where’s your boyfriend?” Hawk asked you, as he came to sit with you for lunch. You shush him loudly. “Woah woah I only asked where he was.” “Speak his name and he shows up. I’m trying to hide.” you say in a hushed voice “plus he isn’t my boyfriend” “sure” he scoffs but the daggers being shot into his head silenced him easily.
“Hey Hen! Hawk” Bradley greets as he sits down. You grunt and point an accusatory finger at Hawk “this is your fault, jackass” you say and he laughs at you, him and Bradley engage in conversation as you just eat, having learnt the skill of drowning him out. “What about you, Hen?” Hawk asked, drawing your attention away from your plate and up to the two men alongside you, you raise an eyebrow - letting them know you were insinuating that you weren’t listening to their conversation.
“Do you want a family?” He ask and you just nod “really?” Hawk asks “that’s cute, didn’t take you for a family gal” he jokes and you harshly kick his leg under the table “kids and everything?” He asks after the pain subsides. “Yup.” You say and Bradley hums “I didn’t know that” he says and you just look at him “you never asked.” You reply simply, and that was true: he hadn’t. He was quite prepared to spend the rest of existence chasing after you, whether that meant giving you your first kiss on your deathbeds.
The two of you even went to Top Gun together, training to be the finest naval aviators of them all. And boy, you two fought to be the best; tongue and teeth, blood sweat and tears, everything. The decision came down to one final dogfight. “May the best aviator win” Rooster jokes, sticking out a hand to you. You eye it and internally question if you were insane, before leaning up to peck his cheek. “Prepare to loose, chicken.” You say, leaving him frozen in his place while you head to your plane. That day, Bradley was seriously off his A-game, and you came out on top.
A Mitchell finally Top Gun.
“Congratulations!” Bradley says excitedly on graduation day when you victoriously lifted the trophy above your head. You turned to him and he leant down slightly - you weren’t stupid, you knew what he was intending to do. “Thank you, Brad.” You say, turning to walk over to where your father was stood - knowing that was probably the only time Bradley wouldn’t follow you. That was the first time you’d ever called him anything short of Bradley Bradshaw.
“I’m so proud of you honey” your dad says, hugging you tightly and you embrace him back, smiling widely “thank you, dad” you respond and he looks behind you where Bradley was stood a while back, watching the ordeal. “Is that-” “yes” you tell him and your dad just looks at you “I wouldn’t get all teary he follows me like a lost puppy” you grumble but he just grins “he’s a good kid, hon.” He says and you shake your head “he’s definitely something”
“So how does their relationship work?” Bob asks Hangman, watching Bradley talk your ear off and you just staring ahead into space, blankly. “You see Bobby my boy,” Jake begins “Hen loves her personal space” Bob nods “Rooster also loves Hen’s personal space.” Bob nods again, now understanding. “Haven’t they done everything together though?” He asks “I think it’s more the fact that Hen does something and Rooster just kinda goes with it” Phoenix said and Bob hums, as Bradley continues to converse one-sidedly with you.
“He means well” you hear from beside you as you stare out from the hanger, turning to see your honorary uncle Tom walking towards you, you run towards him as he embraces you tightly “hey Ice” you smile, sweetly. “Hey sweetheart” he croaks. “I mean what I said.” He states and you raise a brow “he means well” he nods towards the man doing his required push ups on the ground with Hondo. “I know, Ice.” You tell him. “No, I don’t think you do” he hums and you raise your eyebrows at him. “The kids in love with you. You’ve either got to let him in or tell him to get out.” He says, “you’re living together for goodness sake”. “It was cheaper” you argue “we both know the accommodation is subsidised.” He states, matter-of-factly, patting your shoulder as he turns to go talk to your dad when he walks into the room.
It was true, you and Bradley were sharing accommodation. “Hey Hen, they’ve offered us shared accommodation back in Miramar” Bradley says, coming over with a pamphlet. “Why?” You ask, taking it out of his hands. ‘Married couple accommodation’ it states and you raise your brows “you getting ahead of yourself, Bradshaw?” You ask and he shakes his head “the guy assumed our callsigns were cause we’re a couple” he tells you and you just hum. “Well I’d rather stay there than in an apartment.” You say simply, giving him back the leaflet and refocusing on the plane you were working on repairing. “Seriously?” He asks, voice overly hopeful. You look at him and shrug “just go get the damn house, Bradshaw. Before I change my mind!” You say and he grins, turning and breaking out into almost a jog to head to confirm your living situation.
You take a moment of hesitation, before loudly groaning and heading out onto the tarmac, getting down and doing push ups alongside Rooster. He turns his head and looks at you and you just raise your brows at him. “Hey honey” he grins “hello Bradley” he nudges your hip with his own. “I’ll drive us home.” You tell him, and he raises his eyebrows “Home?” He asks and you huff “okay, Bradley I will drive the two of us back to our shared accommodation that we accidentally got given.” You say and he laughs loudly “home sounded better.”
Then after the mission, the whole Dagger squad got permanently stationed in San Diego, other than deployment, so they urged the new additions to the base to buy their own properties closer to base rather than on it. You and Bradley were sat in the Hard Deck, a long time before it was open, the rest of the Daggers spending time on the beach while the two of you were scouring Bradley’s laptop for a property. Well, Bradley was.
How about this one? He turns his screen to you. You shake your head “I want grass in the garden. I want to plant flowers” you say as you point at the paved back of the house, explaining that it’s a waste of money to have it ripped out. Bradley nods “Mkay, garden” he says, moving back to look again.
“How about this one? Beach front, close to the running track for you. Only a walk from the Hard Deck. White picket fence, really” he hums, turning the laptop again “garden?” You ask and he nods “garden.” He nods with a grin. “Shall we go look?” You ask and he raises a brow at you. “You said it’s a walk from the hard deck. Let’s go.” You say, putting the address into your phone and immediately recognising the street name, Bradley quickly falling into step with you as you walk towards the property.
You look at it and place your hands on your hips. Bradley was right. Pretty damn perfect. “Can I help you?” A lady asks, walking outside of the house, clipboard in hand. “Oh no, we’d just seen this property online and wanted to take a look.” Bradley tells her. “Well I’ve had a no-show on a viewing. How’d you like to take a look?” She suggests, motioning to the open door. “Okay” you nod, following her into the house.
“Obviously the kitchen, living room, even a deck out back with a huge garden and high fences” she says nodding out the window and you hum. “Out the side there’s an entrance straight to the beach” she motions, then starts heading up the stairs “three bedrooms, attic space, bathroom” she says “I’m guessing it’s just you two at the moment?” She asks “oh we’re not-” Bradley begins “yes, just us.” You confirm, shutting him up. “Okay, so there’s a large room for your bed and then if any new additions are to join, you have the space for them” she smiles and leads you back out front.
“It’s not cheap, it’s California. So I understand if you’re not prepared to pay that much money, do you mind me asking what you do?” She asks “we’re naval aviators.” Bradley says “stationed here?” She asks and you both nod “ah! I get why you’re looking for a property here!” She says and Bradley looks at you. “I really like it, Roo.” You say, and Bradley has to stop his jaw hitting the floor at your nickname. “It’s your call, honey” he says and you look at the lady and smile as she offers her hand “we’ll take it.”
“How shall we split the payment?” You ask Bradley as you walk back to the Hard Deck after organising a meeting with the realtor to actually finalise all the kinks and bumps. “I don’t mind doing the down payment then we’ll take it in turn paying the loan” he suggests “we can get a joint bank account and do it that way” you say and he agrees as you settle back into your seats at the Hard Deck. “Where’ve you two been?” Hangman asks “we bought a house.”
One evening, after you were all moved in and were hanging out at the Hard Deck after a long day or routine flying, you were sat outside with Rooster; watching the sunset. “When are we getting married then?” You ask and he spits out his beer “what?” He asks, eyes wide and getting progressively more giddy. “Well we live together, we have a joint bank account, and Jake keeps telling me we’re practically married. So when are we getting married?” You ask as he hugs you tightly “whenever you want, baby” he says, kissing the top of your head and pulling a ring out of his pocket to get on his knee. “Will you marry me?” He asks and you raise a brow “didn’t I just say that?” You ask bluntly “just say yes, please” he begs and you nod “yes. Yes I will marry you, Bradley Bradshaw.” You confirm as he kisses your lips gently.
“Okay get off of me now.”
Pt. 2
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verstappen-cult · 2 months
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ooooo! what about Norris! reader x lestappen and the Miami podium. like being over the moon for her brother but extremely turned on by her boys. :)
hope you are doing well!
You have three reasons — dressed in Mclaren orange, blue and Ferrari red, to be happy.
The crowd goes wild as your three favorite people in the world climb on their respective step on the podium, and you don't waste time joining all the cheering around you.
It's fantastic that your brother has finally won his first F1 race. You think about all those times you two talked about it; all the doubts about himself and the sleepless nights analyzing his driving because "what am I doing wrong?" but he's there now. His dream has finally came true.
But next to him on the second and third step of the podium are your boyfriends, beaming, right where they belong. You're always happy when Max wins and extremely excited when Charles manages to secure a spot on the podium with that Ferrari tractor, which is not as often as you'd like. But in those special moments when the two of them are there, well, that is one of your favorites sights.
Then, all three of them are spraying the champagne and making a mess of themselves.
They look down and all the blood in your body rushes to your face, Charles' wet and blushed face makes your knees go weak — if you weren't leaning against the railing you'd have been on the floor the second you turned your gaze to Max, who's taking his cap off an running a hand through his blonde locks. Both of them wink at you, as if they've planned to make you lose your mind beforehand.
All three of them are rushed out of the podium and you know you'd have to wait a long time to be able to congratulate them.
***
You're too focused zooming in and out of the photos to hear the door opening and the whispers of laughter and conversation.
You don't use Twitter. Not a lot, at least. But decided to pop in there just to see what everyone was saying about today's events. And oh boy, the girlies were having a feast. You avoided all thirst tweets about your brother and liked a few of the ones talking about his hard work and his much deserved win.
But then. But then...
There were just two pictures. One of Charles and one of Max. You didn't even read the tweet before liking it and opening the first pic to have a better look at your Monégasque boyfriend. His eyes are closed while his mouth is open trying to catch a few droplets of champagne. Your heart speeds up when you see his own hand wrapped around his throat.
You have to take a sharp intake of breath the second you swipe left and your Dutch boyfriend's face pops up. He has the balaclava in his hand while the other's in his hair. Just like Charles, he has his eyes closed as the sun shines directly on his blushed face. His lips are swollen and red, just like he has them when...
"Angel?" Charles' voice startles you so much that your phone slides to the floor.
"You scared me!" You try to grab your phone but Max is faster. "Give me that."
Max eyes widen when he looks down at the screen, his picture from today looking back at him. Then, he swipes right and Charles’ smile grows bigger when he looks at himself, realizing what you were doing.
"Thirsting over us, uh?" Max says, jokingly. But you can see the blush adorning his cheeks. He always gets shy looking at pictures of himself taken by people that aren't you or Charles.
"Shut. Up." You stand up from your spot on the couch and walk over to them, wrapping your arms around their respective shoulders, which is a little hard given that they're taller than you. "I'm so happy for you. I couldn't stop crying until you were on the podium."
Charles eyes soften and gives you a kiss on the head. "I'm sure it was a special podium for you, baby."
"Lando invited us to celebrate tonight. Did he text you?" Max says, caressing your forearms.
"Yes, I was talking with him before..."
Max interrupts you, a smirk dancing on his lips.
"Before you got distracted by thirst tweets about us." Your face burns, embarrassed at being caught, and hide against his chest.
"Oh come on!" Charles tickles your sides, making you step back and point an accusatory finger at him. "Show us more of those tweets."
"Uh, no! Are you out of your mind?"
"I want to see what the people are saying about us." He defends himself, walking over to the bed and plopping down with his arms behind his head. His eyebrow-wiggling makes you roll your eyes.
Looking at Max, you ask, "You want to boost your ego too?"
"Nah. I just want to see you get turned on by looking at pictures of us."
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satorhime · 1 year
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. ・。・ right where you left me ࿐gojo satoru.
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── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ content : angst, fluff, dad!gojo (reader ‘n’ gojo have a daughter), set in 2018 and 2023, reunion, beach trips, established relationship ! f!reader. ・。・ w.c. 3.7k & not proofread.
── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ synopsis : time remains the one enemy gojo can’t defeat. ໒꒰ྀི ´ ꒳ ` ꒱ྀིა notes: ik there’s a gazillion reunion fics but this has been sitting in my drafts since oct n i suddenly felt like finishing n sharing so i hope u enjoy <333 ‘m gna go cry over this fic now ;u;
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satoru is having a damn good day.
it’s suspicious, it feels like a fever dream, and he can’t really pinpoint where the dubiousness comes from. maybe it’s because he feels as if he doesn’t deserve it, like if he allows himself to relax like this something terrible will happen while he slacks off. or maybe, it’s because he’s only ever had those truly good days in his youth when he was devil may care and his concerns for the wellbeing of the world slid off his shoulders weightlessly, like sheets of rain on a rooftop. a wild and selfish kind of happiness that begun in spring and ended too quickly in winter.
but today is a good day. he forgot to charge his phone last night, he is in the best mood he’s been in all year, and he can’t stop fucking smiling. gojo satoru is thriving, on top of the world, a little bit of that nostalgic, adolescent joy warming up his chest.
and it’s all because it’s a sunny day, the water is cool, and he’s on the beach with you and his baby girl.
the three of you decided to steal away on a spontaneous trip to okinawa that forced him out of his work uniform and into swim trunks with a bare chest, simply because you burst into his office with big droplets of tears in your eyes declaring yourself a terrible mother because you realized that your daughter was already three years old and she had never seen the ocean before.
it had taken him ten minutes to book three first class tickets and secure the private family villa for the weekend, fifteen to get packed, and twenty to board after hearing that.
he would do anything to please his girls, after all.
“‘anna go into the bathtub, mama!” your baby whines impatiently from the embrace of your arms, squirming and squiggling for you to let her down as she points towards the rolling ocean waves behind you. ever since she learned how to walk, she’s lost all patience for her doting parents carrying her around— especially when something catches the attention of those big, pretty blue eyes. it didn’t take long for her to become enamored with the sea, wanting nothing more than to get out of your hold and toddle towards the shallows.
“it’s called an ‘ocean’, cupcake,” you correct her, voice full of amusement and affection as you crane your head forward to kiss the soft skin of her chubby cheek, bouncing the toddler in your arms. “too bad we’re being held hostage by dada right now.”
“i heard that,” satoru mumbles with a pout, his third melon popsicle of the day hanging from one side of his mouth. droplets of green slush drips onto the broad planes of his chest in a sticky mess as it melts but he’s wholly focused on the two of you, one summer blue eye winked closed as the other peers through the lens of the polaroid camera looped around his neck. “but wait, just one more photo of my two favorite girls!”
“you’ve been taking photos for the last twenty minutes, satoru,” you huff. “we aren’t going anywhere, you know. you don’t have to take so many.”
“our baby needs to see what the three of us looked like in our prime, before we grow old and gray together.”
“you’re so ridiculous, gojo satoru.”
but despite your exasperation, you remain put. it’s hard not to feel the same way he does on a perfect day like this— contentment, light in the heart and full of love because of this little trip. the camera focuses in on you and your daughter before the shutter clicks, each snap immortalizing the sight of you and your baby girl illuminated by the lazy autumn sun.
“and done!” he cheers, catching the polaroid in his palm as it slides from the slot. it wobbles between two of his fingers as it develops, but he can already see that it’s a perfect picture. he feels his heart sink in his chest, melting into a syrupy sweet puddle of happiness that makes him lightheaded and anxious.
oh, you’ve never looked as pretty as you do right now. like a dream, a forever kind of love he never plans to let go of. wearing that cute little swimsuit he likes so much with his sunnies perched on top of your head and his baby propped up on your supple hip. the two of you are beaming, cheeks squished together, your daughter’s hand cupping your face fondly.
it’s the kind of picture that others would coo at and fawn over if he framed it in a museum, but satoru retrieves his wallet from the pocket of his swim trunks, tucking the polaroid safely in the trifold for his own selfish keeping.
“i think she really likes the beach,” you tell him, squatting to set your daughter on her feet. she waves to you and satoru before waddling toward the shallow surf, her little legs stumbling in the thick body of sand. “this was good of you, satoru.”
“what? you think i’d miss the opportunity to spend time with my best girls?” he asks you, a hand on his chest with an affronted look on his face. you resist the urge to snort as the two of you follow closely behind your stumbling toddler, rushing towards her every time she gets distracted and attempts to eat the sand or chase one of the seagulls.
“you’ve been busy lately, that’s all,” is how you respond, the accusation washed out of your tone for the gentle words instead. you don’t bring up how many milestones, how many little memories he’s already missed, just by being who he is— that no matter what, he’ll always belong to his duty first and his family second. no, you’ve always shown patience and understanding. never complaining when his side of the bed is empty before morning or your girl requests for her father to read a bedtime story in that animated, comical way you can never replicate for her. making her settle for your offkey, wobbly lullabies instead.
“i know,” he says quietly, suddenly serious— keeping one eye on your baby girl who is currently splashing her hands around in the sand and water. “one of my first year’s a vessel so the curses are getting more pesky. i don’t think that’s a coincidence.”
“you think something’s about to happen?” you ask, looking up at him, but he presses a kiss to your temple and you wrinkle your nose at the sticky feeling of his lips.
“nah,” he replies, and you almost roll your eyes because you know he’s lying. even though satoru has done his best to keep you hidden from his world, you’re no fool. you already know why he rarely comes home at night, why he was absent for christmas last year, why your daughter has never met her paternal grandparents. you know that with the reappearance of several ancient cursed objects, there is thunder crackling among the clouds. “don’t worry your pretty little head about that.”
satoru turns up the volume on the waterproof boombox half-buried in the sand next to your belongings. he can’t stand your choice of music, finds it noise most of the time, but it’s the distraction the atmosphere needs to throw off your questioning. he pulls you to sit down between his legs, your back pressed against his chest and his arms wrapped around your body.
ocean foam splashes against the tips of your toes as the two of you sit at the surf of the tide in peaceful silence, time getting away from you both in the warm sun as your baby girl plays, her energy endless— waddling around and squealing at the different curiosities and wonders the beach has to offer.
whatever will happen, satoru won’t allow it to be today.
“satoru,” you call after a long quiet, craning your neck to look up at him. “if you—”
“what, you think i’m gonna croak sometime soon?” he shoots back, already knowing where the conversation is heading. so he holds you tighter, his strong arms a protective cage around your body as his shades slide down the attractive slope of his nose. he cracks a grin at you, another obvious deflection because he knows you can’t resist when he looks at you that way. not with his hair mussed from humidity, a strip of sunscreen on his nose as he chews on that damn wooden stick from his ice pop earlier.
“i know what you’re doing,” you shake your head. “and it’s not working. i’m just worried, i’m allowed to, as your wife. you think you’re invincible but if something happens to you that’ll… it’ll—” it will break us.
satoru’s smile fades, but he thankfully doesn’t need to reply because your daughter is waddling up to the both of you now, her sand-caked hands full of seashells and stones that glimmer in the sunlight. he wants to scoff because if anyone understands the consequences of failing those you love, it’s him— it’s all he’s ever known.
“what ya got there, princess?”
“fish—!” she cries in her sweet, babyish voice. some of the shells tumble from her hands, and you watch as her expression switches from happiness to dismay to finally confusion. you have to bite your lip to hold back laughter when instead of picking them back up, she dumps the rest of the seashells in your lap. “now i don’t have any fish.”
“i think those are seashells, princess,” gojo says with a grin, picking up a shell that rests on top of your thigh and holding it up to the sunlight. “this shell looks like it belongs to a hermit crab, like your megumi-nii.”
“you’re a terrible influence on our daughter, you know.”
“i’m just setting up future dynamics, angel face,” he grins.
“look look look!” your daughter gasps, bringing your attentions back to her. “this swee-shell looks like dada—!” she squeals excitedly, her new finding held delicately in her little sand-covered palm. she stands up on your thighs to reach her father sitting behind you, holding an iridescent blue seashell next to gojo’s eyes, her tiny mind comparing the colors in wonder. meanwhile, satoru wears a smile that burns so wide it hurts his cheeks.
“it looks like you too, princess,” he boops her nose, gently taking the seashell and holding it to her eyes next. her answering giggles sound like a sweet bell calling him home to heaven, but he can’t answer it because there are two people on this earth who laugh and smile at him like he hung the moon and painted the stars. “if you put it in your pocket now, the ocean won’t call the cops on you for stealing it.”
“no, this one ‘s for dada,” she insists, shoving the pretty blue seashell back into his hand.
“thank you, my mini angel,” he ruffles her hair, and you smile softly at the little exchange because though she may be enamored with her new discoveries at the beach, her father will always be one of her favorite wonders of the world.
“i ‘anna go find one for mama now!” she announces, and you wonder how she hasn’t run out of energy yet, but you nod and stand to your feet, dusting the sand away from the bottom of your swimsuit. your baby’s entire hand curls around your pointer finger, and she pulls you along with great effort.
you glance back at satoru and find that he’s watching the two of you head closer to the water, that uncharacteristically genuine smile still on his face, and you part your lips to call him to your side— where he’s always supposed to be.
“you didn’t think we’d let you slack off, did you? finding seashells is serious business, satoru!” you tease, pretty eyes crinkling with unbridled happiness, haloed by the waning sun and the orange dreamsicle sky that holds it. “hurry up!”
“wait for me just a little while, i’m coming to you,” he calls back, a lopsided grin spreading across his mouth before he raises the polaroid camera to his face, snapping one last candid photo of the two of you before he jogs towards his little piece of heaven.
but he doesn’t think he’s imagining things when the distance between heaven and earth keeps growing further and further apart—
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“satoru, you can’t stand outside forever,” your voice is gentle as it speaks behind him, your hand laid delicately on his back in comfort; breaking the sorcerer out of deep reverie, the edges of the old memory fading, replaced by the pink paint of his daughter’s bedroom door that he’s been standing in front of for the last thirty minutes. his thumb brushes over the polaroid in his hand, the one that had been his salvation and his undoing in the prison realm. he’d taken it out without knowing, his eyes reading over the date written in his handwriting.
october 30, 2018
the picture of you with your daughter on your hip that he took at the beach all those years ago— that had been the last time he’d seen her.
four, no, five years?
his feet are nailed to the floor because change makes satoru shut down, and everything has changed since then.
while time was immeasurable and immovable inside of the prison realm for him, the clock had ticked on outside of it and just like that, his little girl is no longer three years old, giving him seashells that matches his eyes or hitting the back of his ankles with her big wheel or—
“you can’t keep doing this to yourself,” you sigh. “you’ve been unsealed for months. you’re her father, no matter what.”
“i’m a stranger to her,” and to you, but he doesn’t say it. you had waited for him, in every aspect of the word. held out on hope and faith in his strength that he would return to your side, where he’s always supposed to be.
“you’re n—” but you’re cut off when the door opens to reveal your daughter standing on the other side. the child standing before him is almost unrecognizable. she’s much taller and older, wearing track pants underneath her school dress with ribbons in unruly waves of white hair. the last time he’d seen his daughter, she had been three years old and still learning things like colors and sight words and that feeding megumi’s demon dogs her vegetable purée was against the rules. now, gojo satoru was the father of an eight year old and he’d missed everything because of a mista—
“you can come in,” she says, blinking up at satoru with an expression void of emotion. “but i’m not finished with my homework so if you stay too long, you’ll bug me.”
“how did you know i was outside?” he whistles nonchalantly, unbothered by the attitude that she gives him. it fills him with bitter satisfaction that she isn’t excited to see him, that someone is angry that he failed, regardless if he won in the end. he can handle bratty children who hate him and only look at him as a tool for their success, he can’t handle a daughter who cried herself to sleep every night waiting for him while he was losing his sanity away in a cube.
or at least, that’s what he tells himself.
“i could see you and mama through the door, duh,” she replies, hip cocked to the side in an amount of sass she had to pick up from you. “mama says i have your eyesight. i don’t really get it, but it makes it easy to cheat on tests.”
he could see it in the bright blue of her eyes, even if she hadn’t confirmed it. plain as daylight, she’s exactly like he was at that age. easily irritable and bratty, cocky and spoiled rotten. suffering from the weight of being an uncontested heir to an ancient dynasty at the age of elementary.
“i used six eyes to cheat on tests too,” he relates with pride, and then he bends down to her height, waving his palm. “sooo you probably got some questions about where i was—”
“not really. grandfather said you were sealed because you’re foolish and let weakness distract you.”
“you shouldn’t say things like that,” you scold, “apologize.”
“why? i don’t want to.”
your daughter turns, disappearing back into her room after that and seeming like she doesn’t care if satoru follows or not. your hand travels up the long expanse of satoru’s back in a soothing circle as you step closer.
“huh, that’s new.”
“sorry, she’s… i don’t know if acting out is the right term,” you say, pain in your voice. “she doesn’t really understand why she’s so different, or why you were … gone for so long. i know you didn’t want her around your family so i kept her away as best i could, but she started to have crippling migraines because she didn’t know how to use her ability and well… they were the only ones who knew how to help. filled her head with foolishness every time she visited the estate, though and it’s changed her.”
“huh,” is all he says, a broken record, tongue running across his inner lip in thought.
“do you need me?”
“what, you think i can’t handle her?”
“well, you were outside the door for a half hour, ‘toru.”
he shoots you a lopsided grin before he’s stepping into his daughter’s bedroom, glancing around at the unfamiliarity of it all. you follow close behind, watching with a heavy heart as he takes in the difference eight years can make.
her tiny baby crib has been traded for a poster bed decorated with a sanrio duvet and various stuffed animals where a laptop and study papers lay scattered on top. the angel themed decorations, along with her first ultrasound photo you and satoru had hung up in her nursery had been replaced by pink paint and pictures of her with a group of friends from school and a photo of her on a volleyball team.
he has to rip his gaze away.
“so,” he starts, standing in the center of the room and trying not to feel like an intruder, desperate for something to say— something to relate to her with. “how many episodes did i miss? did aya-chan ever get married?”
“i’m too old to play with dolls now, father,” she huffs, scrunching up her nose, and though satoru expected that exact answer, it doesn’t stop his heart from shattering into a million pieces. he feels that familiar itch, anger welling in his body until it burns at his fingertips because this is no one’s fault but his own. “don’t you know anything about me?”
“my bad, you’re a big kid now,” he snorts, even as his chest aches. he sits on the edge of her bed, flipping up one edge of the coloring book laying next to her laptop. “maybe you should start paying taxes.”
“i’m also too young to pay taxes. you really don’t know anything about me anymore,” she snaps, and she’s right— he doesn’t and it burns like saltwater on a wound. now he knows why you asked if he needed you; he’d hide behind you if he could, but he settles for flickering his eyes up to you helplessly.
you realize that neither of you can be upset with her for being angry that one of her favorite people vanished out of thin air. that while he was sealed, his clan had taken advantage of his absence and your powerlessness against them, and had begun spoiling your child rotten, teaching her how to use her ability— plumping her up for the inevitable day that she becomes her father’s successor, turning her against him.
“i think,” you say softly, leaning against the frame of the door. “that your dada— your father— would like to learn, though. he’s missed a lot, baby.”
she considers this for a long while, then she heaves a great sigh, hackles lowering. she scoots off the bed and before satoru can feel the hurt of figuring she doesn’t want to be near him, she does something unexpected. she moves one of her trophies out of the way to open her closet door, rummaging around for the longest before she yanks out a cardboard box you had labeled ‘donate one day since my snotty kid is a hag now’— it’s a box full of old dolls, covered in dust. she sits on her knees in front of the box, peering inside.
“aya-chan didn’t get married, but hinata-chan did,” she explains with an exasperated sigh and a roll of her eyes, taking out the dolls one by one and setting them on the floor in front of satoru’s feet.
“to the mailman that lived in your ugliest dollhouse?”
“you remember,” her eyes widen a little in surprise before her expression shutters again, smoothing out the doll’s colorful polyester dress before reaching back into the box and retrieving a brush covered in synthetic hairs. she looks at it for a while before extending her arm and offering the brush to her father. “aya-chan decided to be independent and explore the world. she’s planning to go on a trip soon so she needs to get ready. do y’wanna brush her hair?”
satoru is sliding off the bed and sitting cross-legged on the floor before he knows it, barely wanting to breathe because he doesn’t want to shatter the fragility of the moment between them. he takes the brush, and seconds later she hands him one of the dolls that had once upon a time been her favorite one that no one was allowed to touch. you would giggle at the delicate way he brushes the doll’s hair with utmost care and precision if you weren’t about to cry at the scene instead. “oh, and where’s she headed?”
“okinawa.”
“ponytail or messy bun then?” you don’t think you’re imagining the wobble in his voice. “to compliment her swimsuit.”
a tiny, hopeful smile twinkles over your lips at the two of them on the floor, babbling away to each other about the outlandish stories they’ve created together with her dolls. how many times had you offered to play with her, only for her to burst into tears because it wasn’t the same? you know that this won’t bridge the gap between the years that have been lost, but it’s a start. just hearing the soft murmurs of their conversation, the sound of your little girl giggling for the first time in ages, makes your heart swell.
time may be an undefeated opponent, and with it comes change that no one can control, but something tells you that as long as the three of you are together— everything will be okay.
you tiptoe out of the room, because they need time to catch up and apologize and reconnect, to learn one another once more, but before you close the door, you don’t think you’re mistaken when you hear, “can we go back to the beach too, dada?”
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no-144444 · 2 months
Text
mistakes- l.norris
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pairing: Lando Norris x publicist! fem! reader
summary: the aftermath of the Hungarian gp
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He wanted to scream. At Oscar, at the team, at everyone. It wasn’t fair. Fair and fucking square he was supposed to be in first. He was closest to Max in the championship. It made fucking sense, and Oscar wasn’t going to catch up, so Lando was McLaren’s only chance at a world championship. Fuck their strategy, fuck being a ‘team player’, fuck all that shit. It wasn’t fair.
And then there was you. Had he been harsh on the radio? Yes. Did you now have to clean up his mess? Yes. Was he scared to face you? Yes. But only because he knew what you’d be doing, and that you’d be too busy to be with him. Thus the joys of secretly dating your publicist.
He walked into his drivers room and found you on his bed, laptop on your lap as you answered call after call. You didn’t even spare him a glance. Fuck that. He was mad, and he sure as hell didn’t want to be alone right now. He changed and showered, then left you to work while he went out and ‘celebrated’ Oscar’s win.
————————
At about 2am Lily called you.
“Hi Y/n,” she sighed, the loud music making her difficult to hear.
“What club?” You sighed.
“I’ll send you my location now,” she hesitated. “Lando’s not that drunk, he’s just… sad. He’s been begging me to call you for ages, and I was holding off because I knew you’d be working all night today and-“
“It’s fine, I’m getting in my car now.”
“Thanks Y/n.”
And with that you hung up the phone. You closed your overheated laptop and grabbed your keys. The hospitality was dead at this time and all you could think about was the race. You were angry at the team, happy for Oscar, and annoyed at Lando. He hadn’t even come in to see you after, he’d given you a week's worth of work in one race, and you had no idea how to feel about what had happened today.
You pulled up outside the club and found Lando outside with Oscar. You ran over when you saw him sitting down, wondering if he was completely drunk.
“Where’s Y/n?” He mumbled to Oscar, tears in his eyes. The fans around were screaming their names as they waited for a photo, or even a glimpse of the drivers.
“I’m here,” you kneeled down beside him, taking his hand. “I’m right here.”
“Y/n,” he just stared at you as you looked over him. He looked awful. “You’re here.”
“Let’s go home, ok?”
“Please don’t be mad at me,” he begged.
You squeezed his hand, if you two were alone you would’ve hugged him and kissed all over his face, promising that you weren’t, but alas, you were all too aware of the hundreds of eyes on you. “I’m not mad at you.”
He groaned. Yeah, he was at least a little drunk. “But you’re not kissing me, you’re mad.”
“I’m going to leave you to it,” Oscar tried to hold back a laugh, but failed and decided he wouldn’t be much help anymore. “Good luck.”
You waved him off and sighed. “Lan, come on. I’ll kiss you at home,” you promised.
“Promise?”
“I promise,” you smiled, then tried to stand up but, Lando being Lando, he pulled you down and pressed his lips against yours.
Your heart stopped, and not in the usual way it did when he kissed you. The screams of the fans were drowned out by the beating in your ears.
He pulled back. “I love you. A lot.”
Fuck off. Not right now. No. He was not saying that for the first time now. That wasn’t fair.
“Lan please-“
“You don’t love me?”
Your breathing picked up, you felt sick. “Please can we just get to the car Lando?”
“Say it back!” He pleaded. “Please baby, I love you.”
“I love you too,” you sighed. “Now please can we go to the car?”
He nodded, a goofy smile on his face.
————————
When Lando woke up the next morning you were at the desk in his room, laptop open in front of you.
“Morning,” he said. You didn’t answer. He got up, noticing how you’d changed his clothes and mentally reminded himself to thank you. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. “I’m sorry.”
You didn’t answer again.
“Baby?” He turned his head and looked at you. Shit.
You were crying, staring at the awful things people were saying about you two online.
Shes so ugly. How can he date her? She’s so boring. She doesn’t even go out and celebrate with the team? She’s such a stuck up bitch.
“Stop looking at that,” he closed your laptop and held you closer. “They don’t know you.”
You nodded, leaning into his body. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I wanted to talk to you about it-“
He scoffed. “You didn’t even say hello when I came in.”
“What?” You turned to him, wiping your eyes. “I didn’t hear you. I had my AirPods in.”
“Oh,” he scratched the back of his neck. “Shit.”
“And I didn’t exactly have time after the race yesterday to look up from my laptop, not after the shitstorm you caused,” you sighed, knowing you were being too harsh. “Sorry. I know yesterday was shit for you.”
He sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I’m sorry too. I’m sure I did something fucking stupid last night.”
You chuckled. “You kissed me in front of everyone and told me you loved me.”
His body tensed. He took a deep breath. “Wow.”
“How do you think I felt?” You chuckled. “We’re going to have to answer so many fucking questions at work.”
He paused for a moment. “What did you say back?”
“I told you the truth,” you sighed, getting up. “I love you.”
He stared at you for a moment. “I love you too,” he pressed his lips to yours in a soft kiss. The tension and anxiety you felt dissipated as he held you closer. Yes, you were still stressed and upset, but Lando loved you.
You pulled away. “We need to talk about our strategy to explain what happened yesterday-“
“Please just stop talking and let me kiss you,” he pressed his lips to your again.
You’d talk about it all later.
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navigation for my blog :)
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dirtyvulture · 2 months
Note
I have been summoned...yk the drill, also I wasn't able to connect the recent one on vulture's feed but here ya go!
warning: a badly written smut
Your mission ended after two weeks. It means that Natasha has been edging herself for the past fourteen days since you were gone, and lucky for her, you're returning home today. She has been thinking of finally having you in your bed, planning on plowing you down the mattress—
The minute your warm mouth wraps around her cock, accompanying the warmth of your hands that are gripping her, the grip on your hair tightens, and a whimper escapes Natasha's mouth when she cummed inside your mouth. Natasha started blabbering an apology when she realized what just happened, but as much as you wanted to punish her, you couldn't help but let Natasha have her pleasure for a while, so you let her lead.
The sweat covering your bodies is incomparable to the mess you are both doing. Natasha holding your hands from behind while she's trying to fit her massive cock in your tightest hole. You could feel her stretching you out as you took her inch by inch.
"ty takaya uzkaya, printsessa." You're so tight, princess Her thick Russian accent slipped out of her tongue as her spurts covered your hole when she was halfway through her shaft. She couldn't fit herself fully, so she decided to just pump in and out of you, pushing her juice as far as she could inside you. The next thing she did was slip her drenched shaft inside your pussy that's been completely neglected by her since earlier. The low groans she's letting out always make your knees buckle just like hers right now. The hand that was binding your wrists together found its way on your hips as Natasha uses you like the fleshlight that was shown on the video message she sent a week ago before she completely left you unread after you sent tons of videos and photos of you playing with yourself once you're in the hotel room you stayed in.
"YA polozhu v tebya rebenka, dorogaya. Yebat'! Nichto ne sravnitsya s tvoyey kiskoy." I'll put a baby inside you, darling. Fuck! Nothing compares to this pussy of yours Your moans and the slapping of your skin are the only things that can be heard inside the room, but you're sure everyone in the compound knows what's going on inside your room especially after Tony called out Natasha to calm herself down when someone down there couldn't help but stand when the redhead saw you.
You knew that Natasha's deep inside you when she grabs one of your hand that's gripping the pillow and putting them on your lower abdomen. The bulge is prominent as she continuously fucks you until she empties herself once again inside. The string of Russian curses were muttered under her breath before she pulls out and thanked you.
"Oh, sweetheart. We haven't even started yet. Not after you disobeyed my orders."
-🍉
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🍉 has outdone themselves, I'm frothing and foaming at the mouth
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selineram3421 · 1 month
Text
🎩
You're Off-key
Prologue
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Reader X Gravity Falls
Warnings ⚠
⚠ The Book of Bill SPOILERS HERE! Do NOT read if you don't want any spoils of the book. Other than that, enjoy. -mentions of madness, blood, cryptids, italics= thoughts, ya know..the usual. Oh! And for our old pal Stan, some swear words. ⚠
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You missed this.
Being one of the weird kids who loved the supernatural, interested in solving puzzles, uncovering secrets. Of course you ended up watching Gravity Falls.
Never really growing out of it, you'd still watch videos about ghosts or getting a heavy duty flashlight and a pair of brass knuckles for whatever made a noise in your apartment.
Ghost or not, they'd learn not to mess with you!
At some point you got The Book of Bill.
It was so cool! Little funny and silly at times. There was also the triangle's descent into madness. Man those pictures were good.
Also an axolotl?
You don't know but it looked cute.
As you kept reading, the more you wanted to experience everything you didn't get to when you were younger.
So you decided on a road trip!
A road trip to all the places that inspired the creator of the show and the final stop would be Bill's statue!
Best friend in the passenger seat! Sun glasses in the glove boxes! And snacks to last you a while before the next gas station stop!
You even brought a camera!
"Ready for the time of your life?", you asked excitedly.
"In this heat?", your best friend fanned their face with the paper map. "It'll be meh but yeah, I'm ready for the car AC."
You both were in the car, ready to begin the adventure to Oregon, but you were just double checking before it actually began.
"Ok, ok. I'll start the car.", you said and put the key in the ignition, turning it and starting the car.
Immediately putting the AC on high, both of you were ready and you slowly backed out the driveway.
"Let's get that fucking pie!", you said and put on the sun glasses.
It was really bright today.
First you went to the famous diner with the pie. It was a give in, honestly but the pie was really good. Next to the Oregon Vortex. Now that was a really weird shack! Everything was leveled but you were standing slanted a bit. Then you both went to every roadside attraction that you could and got some key chains for souvenirs. It's been really clear weather since you started the road trip, which was a bit of a surprise. It was supposed to sprinkle at some point.
Finally, the last thing on the list arrived.
Playing the song "We'll Meet Again" by Vera Lynn as you drove to the parking area and both of you were singing along to it before you had to turn off the car.
You brought The Book of Bill for fun.
Deciding to joke around, you bought some spaghetti to go and went to park the car before venturing into the woods where Bill's Statue was.
"Are you seriously gonna try it?", your best friend laughed.
"Why not?", you smiled while putting a water bottle in your pack. "It's ok to be silly. Mabel says so. Trust the silliness!"
"Yeah, ok.", they agreed with a smile. "If we get mauled by a bear, I'm sacrificing you first."
.....
"Fair."
Camera, spaghetti, book of Bill, and water! (Also a flashlight.) You were ready for a photo shoot with the oh so famous Dream Demon!
Looking back to see the sun, you guessed that you had about two hours to find Bill's statue before it got too dark. Your best friend had a map they downloaded off the internet that would lead you straight to it. Of course, with you having some attention issues, you'd get sidetracked by anything you found interesting, hence needing the two hours.
You were right!
The two hours were needed because you were still trying to solve one of the codes in the book, while also getting distracted by some cool looking bugs around the area.
"Did you try the Caesar cipher?", your friend asked.
"Yeah, but this is new. It's something else.", you sighed. "I should have tried the website before leaving.", you grumbled sadly.
"Hey, it's totally fine!", they said and patted your back a few times. "You'll get to do that when we go back home.", then they pointed towards the right with their thumb. "By the way, Bill statue is next to us, over by those bushes."
"WHAT!?", you screeched and ran over, whispering a few ouches as the branches of the bush scratched your legs.
That's when you saw it.
In all of its odd glory was the Bill statue with its hand out, waiting for a hand shake.
"Eeeeee!", you cheered as you got closer, hearing your friend laugh behind you as you did so. "I gotta give him spaghetti!"
Opening up your bag, you took out the take-out box that held the noodley deliciousness and took a quick forkfull for yourself before putting it in front of the stone triangle.
"I really thought you were joking.", says your friend as they watch you take out the book and camera from your backpack.
"Nope!", you smile, snapping a quick picture of the statue with spaghetti. "Ok, now for the silliest part."
You take out Parmesan cheese and a cheese grater.
"Oh this is fucking hilarious.", your best friend says and takes pictures of you with their phone.
The sun hits the horizon and the sky is slowly darkening, you start grating the cheese and when you think it's enough, you stop.
"Hey, take a pic with me shaking his hand.", you say and get closer to the statue, reaching out to touch it.
"Sure thing jellybean.", they say and lift their phone up. "It's my turn after you."
"Ok!", you say and put a thumbs up as you put your other hand on the statue's.
As you look to where your best friend is, all you can see is darkness.
You call their name in confusion. "Are you there?", you ask. "Turn on the flashlight, its really dark out here."
But you get no response.
And then you hear something odd.
Kinda sounds like someone with a weird sound filter over their laughing.
"Ok, ha ha.", you roll your eyes. "Quit playing the Bill audio and take the picture already."
When you try to get a better hold on the statue, you realize you weren't holding anything at all.
"What?", you say and look at your hand. "Wait.. Why can I see my hand perfectly fine when everything else is-"
"Well, well, well!", says a familiar voice from behind you.
What?
Turning around you see a floating, glowing Dorito chip with a fancy bow tie and a top hat.
Holy shit.
"Here we are at last! I've been waiting an eternity to meet you."
How is this happening? Was one of the snacks you ate expired? Did you eat the wrong brownies!?
"Thanks for reading my best seller kid!", Bill says and twirls his cane into existence in his hand. "And for the handshake.", he blinks. Winks?
"Wait, hold on! I-!", you start.
"See you in Gravity Falls!", the triangle snaps his fingers and suddenly there's a hole beneath your feet that reveals a cartoon animated forest.
"Wha-"
"Don't break your neck on the way down!", the one eyed demon waves.
And you begin to fall.
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ZKDW D QLFH VXQQB GDV
~Seline, the person.
Part 1
Taglist@
@+?
YO-🎹 | GF List🏞️
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dilemmaontwolegs · 10 months
Text
Crazy Forever || LN4
Summary: The truth always comes out in the end. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, dub/con, dark themes WC: 1.3k F1 Masterlist || Part One (Crazy For you) || Part Two (Crazy For You Too) || Part Three (Crazy For The Three Of Us) || Part Four (Crazy Forever)
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“Stay,” Lando begged as he curled an arm around your waist. “I want cuddles.”
“I have to go, I’m going to be late,” you said with a yawn. It had been another bad sleep and you put it down to the lack of sleep tea that used to knock you out cold, but you couldn’t stay in bed all day. “You should get up too, you have to pack for Australia.”
He groaned and he sat up, the blankets fell to his lap as he stretched his arms above his head. “Don’t remind me. You do realise you don’t have to work, love.”
“Don’t, we have been over this, Lan. You already pay for everything and it’s too much. I want to pay for the baby things with my own money.”
“It’s my baby too.”
“It was still my fault,” you mumbled as you left the room. 
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You were called into the HR meeting room almost immediately after arriving and you sat down with a frown as your boss avoided all eye contact. 
“What’s going on?” you asked quietly as your palms began to sweat.
Your boss's cheeks turned pink and he slid his phone onto the table, a picture you recognised on the screen. Nausea rolled through you as you slapped your hand over the screen to hide the image but everyone had already seen it. “Where did you get that?”
“You sent it to me.”
“No, I didn’t,” you argued as you covered your mouth. 
“Yes, you did,” he muttered as he took the phone back and showed you the contact number. It was yours, and it was sent while you had been driving to work. “I know you are going through some things but this is unacceptable.”
“No, really, I didn’t send this. I-I don’t know how it happened but it wasn’t me.”
Your boss sighed heavily and looked at the HR manager. “I think it is best if you take the rest of the week off and we will schedule a formal meeting for next Monday. If you decide to hand your notice in before then it will be accepted without this going onto your record.”
You knew what he was saying between the thinly veiled threats and you reached for the small paper bin before retching your breakfast into it. A look of pity came over their faces and a handkerchief floated across the table for you to wipe your lips. “Thank you,” you mumbled as you rose from the table, despite wanting to throw the trash can at them. “I’ll send my resignation through today.”
“It’s for the best this way,” he said as he deleted the nude photo Lando had begged for when he was away testing in Bahrain. He had promised it was just for him, because he missed you so much.
You really shouldn’t have driven home in your state. You could hardly see the road through the humiliating tears that streamed down your face. 
“Lando?” 
You sighed with relief when you found the apartment empty as you weren’t sure you could face him at that moment. You didn’t know how he had done it, or why, but there was no one else who had the picture.
You would have sold your soul for a drink as you changed out of your work clothes and flopped onto the bed feeling miserable. You would have stayed there if it wasn’t for your phone vibrating with a notification, and you noticed an echo coming from Lando’s closet. You climbed over the bed and opened the door, listening for any other sound. It was quiet, but you heard it coming from under his clothes drawers. 
You tugged at the panel of wood and it popped off easily to reveal a mess of power cords, clothes and bags of powders squirrelled away. Shuffling around deeper, you saw a screen light up at the bottom and saw the notification that was mirrored on your phone. You reached for beyond the set of keys that matched your car and old apartment, right down to the cheap Eiffel Tower replica key ring.
“What the fuck…”
“I really wish you didn’t see that.”
You slammed the panel shut but it was too late, Lando was standing in the doorway to the room with his arms crossed over his chest. He had stolen it, the phone you had lost, the one you had replaced, it had been in his possession this whole time. All your social media profiles, iMessages, everything was at his disposal - even your period tracking app.
He had stolen everything you thought you lost. Keys, clothes, chargers. He even stole your perfume. You thought you were going crazy, but he had been orchestrating it all.
Tugging the panel away, you grabbed the clear bag of white powder and sniffed it. It had the same sickly sweet scent as the lemon and ginger tea he made. Grabbing another, you felt ill as it had the same relaxing aroma as the chamomile tea he used to make each night, the one that put you in a deep sleep.
“You roofied me?” You wanted to sound angry and bitter but you only sounded broken as you dropped the bags.
“You’re my girlfriend, why would I drug you?” he snickered as he walked into the room, taking the bags and flushing them down the toilet in the ensuite. “With what drugs?”
“You got me fired…why are you doing this to me?” It felt like déjà-vu and you were sure that you had this conversation before. Smacking the sides of your head you screamed as you tried to remember. Why couldn’t you remember?
“Hey, shhhh,” Lando soothed as he caught your hands and lowered them to your sides. You struggled against his hold as he wrapped you in his arms but he was too strong. “I just wanted you to be free to travel with me. Now we don’t have to be apart, ever.”
“Do you even hear yourself?” you growled as you tried to wriggle out of his hold. “This is insane, you’re fucking crazy!”
He released you as abruptly as he had caught you and you held your hands up as you backed away. You needed space, from him and the situation, you needed time to think.
“Where are you going?” he chuckled as he followed you out of the room, each of his strides longer than yours.
“Anywhere you aren’t.” He overtook you in the hall.
“You know I can’t let you go.” He blocked the door and slid the bolt across before facing you. “You’re carrying my child, you’re not leaving. You have no job, no house, no friends. You need me.”
Hopelessness fell over you and you hung your head in shame. “I wish I never met you.”
His laugh tickled your cheek as he embraced you again, his hand spreading wide over the back of your head and guiding your face to the crook of his neck. “No, you don’t,” he murmured into your hair. “You’re just angry, and that’s okay. We’ll get through this rough patch together and you’ll realise what a blessing this is. You and me, our baby, together, forever.”
“Forever?” you echoed in defeat.
“Forever. You’ll never want for anything, baby. Whatever you want you can have, I’ll make sure you are treated like a princess.”
“The kind that gets locked up in a tower?”
He laughed and kissed your forehead sweetly. “Only if you try to leave me. But you’re not going to try something silly like that are you, love?”
You swallowed the lump in your throat and shook your head. He was right, you needed him. He could provide for you and the child you carried, so you would behave.
“I won’t,” you whispered as your shoulders slumped.
“That’s my girl. I knew I chose right,” he hummed happily. “None of those other women could have been you.”
Cold dread shivered down your spine. “What women?”
“The others that applied to rent my apartment,” he said as pulled back to look into your eyes, a dark smile on his lips. “The one I own next door.”
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Text
Masturbation (Matt)
Request: None
Warnings: Sub Matt, mommy kink, friends to lovers, jacking off, soft dom y/n, praising, whiny Matt, getting caught, choking
Y/n’s pov
Don’t get me wrong, I love living with the triplets but sometimes being the only girl in a house with three rowdy boys can be a lot. Today I had the house to myself so I actually got to sleep in for once and do some cleaning without Chris making a mess two seconds later. After I cleaned up the house a little bit, I took a shower and got ready for a day of editing. I remembered that Matt had asked to borrow my MacBook last night since his was getting fixed but he never returned it.
I specifically told him not to open any folders but I didn’t tell him why, the reasoning behind it was I had folders with different modeling pictures in some of them. Photos that I most definitely did not need Matt or Chris seeing, more specifically they were pictures of me in lingerie for a brand deal that was being used on their website. I decided I would just go get it back since he wasn’t home so I ascended my way up the stairs to his bedroom. Obviously, since he wasn’t home I entered his room without knocking and I was shocked.
Not only was Matt home and in his bedroom, he was sitting at his desk with my laptop open. There on the screen was one of my pictures from the lingerie shoot, more specifically the one where I was wearing the skimpiest set. Matt was shirtless with his sweats and boxers pulled halfway down his thighs, cock in hand as he was jerking off. His eyes were closed and he was quietly moaning as he stroked his big dick, swiping his thumb over the slit every few strokes to spread and use his precum as lube.
He seemed to not hear or notice me come in so I thought I’d have some fun, instead of being mad I was oddly turned on. I walked up behind his chair, placing my hands on his shoulders as I leaned closer to his ear. “What are you doing Matty? I thought I told you not to open my folders?” I spoke in a seductive voice. Matt flinched stilling his movements “I- I- Shit Y/n I’m so so so sorry! Fuck I don-“ he started nervously stuttering, I moved my right hand to wrap around his as I made him resume his previous movements. “I didn’t tell you to stop, c’mon finish what you started” I teased him.
Matt whimpered at my words as I made him slowly move his hand up and down his hard cock. I spun his chair around to face me, loving the embarrassed and nervous look his face held as he avoided eye contact with me, “What happened Matty? I thought you were a good boy?” I pouted at him. His eyes shot up to look at mine “I am a good boy! I promise I am!” I wasn’t expecting Matt to be so submissive but I was loving it. I stopped our hands, removing his from his hard cock as I looked back at him with a gaze that made him squirm “If you were a good boy you would’ve listened to me baby. I guess you just aren’t a good boy huh?” I teased bending down so we were eye level with each other.
The next thing that came out of his mouth shocked me but oddly turned me on even more “No I am, I’m your good boy mommy! Promise I’m your good boy! I’m sorry, please mommy, I didn’t mean to…” he whined as his cheeks turned a deep shade of pink. “But good boys listen Matty, you didn’t listen love” I said while stroking his cheek as his eyes teared up, “I d-don’t wanna b-be a bad boy! I di-didn’t mean to, I-I’m sorry!” He was about to cry and his cock was so hard, dripping precum against his stomach as he desperately tried to apologize.
“I know baby but you didn’t listen to my one rule. I should punish you, just tie you up and edge you until your brothers come back but I’m not that mean. I still think you should be punished though” Matt’s cock twitched, leaking out more precum as I spoke. “I’ll make it up to you mommy! I wanna be your good boy, wanna make you feel good! Please mommy I’m sorry!” he begged as a few tears fell but he was quick to wipe them away.
I took his hands in mine as I stood up, looking down at him I said “Awe it’s okay Matty, don’t cry. You wanna be mommy’s good boy, right?” nodding he pleaded “Please” as he looked up at me, squeezing my hands. I moved some hair out of his face “Go lay down for me baby, you’re gonna let mommy ride you okay?” he quickly stood up pushing his pants down the rest of the way down before fully taking them off.
Matt laid down on the bed, watching me as I teasingly took off my clothes, making Matt whine. I got onto the bed and sat on my knees next to Matt who was staring at me, his eyes scanning over my body as his mouth was slightly opened. “What’s wrong Matty? Never seen a girl naked before?” I teased him while tracing a finger down his chest before going down to slowly stroke his cock, “I- I have, you’re just really pretty. Was just admiring you mommy” he says innocently. “Awe thank you baby” I replied giving him a sweet kiss, “Can I touch you please?” He asked in a sweet voice as I moved to straddle him, spreading my wetness across his hard cock as I grinded down on him. “Only because you asked so nicely my love” I smiled at him pushing his hair back. Matt’s hands came to rest on my hips helping me rock back and forth as I pulled him in for a kiss, quickly dominating it.
I pulled away moving my kisses down his neck, giving him a few hickies before Matt whined “Mommy please, I wanna be inside you, wanna make you feel good” he begged. I nodded and slowly slid down onto his dick pulling a moan from the both of us, “You’re so big Matty, making mommy feel so good” I praised him while I started slowly bouncing up and down. The praising made Matt let out a little whimper as blush spread across his cheeks, “F-feels good, s-so good” he whined out as his hands still firmly held onto my waist, his grip getting tighter as I started riding him faster.
“You’re being such a good boy for me baby, you look so cute underneath me like this. Do you like when mommy rides you Matty?” I praised him some more as he looked up at me, his pupils fully dilated and his lips slightly parted as he let out uneven breaths and whiney moans. He nodded erratically as his nails dug into my hips “Yes! Yes, feels so good! You’re so pretty mommy, ca-can you umm…” Matt moaned out before trailing off and looking anywhere but at me. I moved his chin up so he was looking at me before placing a small kiss on his lips “Can I what, baby? What do you want me to do?” I asked him while pushing some of his hair back.
We were both getting close, I could tell by Matts increased breathing and moans, “Can y-you choke me p-please mommy?” Matt asked, grabbing my hand and playing with my fingers, kind of catching me off guard. I did as he asked, wrapping my hand around his throat but not really applying any pressure, “Tighter, please” he begged, turning me on even more, I never thought I’d have a thing for choking a guy during sex but with Matt it was different. “Feel good Matty? You like it when I choke you, baby?” “F-feels so good, can I please cum?” he whined as I started moving faster if that was even possible. Matt used his hands on my waist to help me move as he started to buck up his hips from being sensitive.
“In a second baby, I want to cum with you” I told him while tightening my hand around his throat a bit more as Matt whined, deciding he would help me cum faster by rubbing my clit. He looked up at me with innocent eyes as he did some “Is this okay mommy?” He asked innocently, “Yes it’s okay Matty, you’re being such a good boy for me” I panted out making Matt let out a loud moan. “Cum with me baby, be a good boy and fill me with your cum” I moaned, pulling Matt in for a rough and heated kiss. I tightened around him as I came, making Matt pull away from the kiss, throwing his head back. He let out a loud whimper/moan as he came inside of me before hiding his face in my neck as we both stopped our movements and I removed my hand from his throat.
I slowly pulled off of Matt’s dick making him hiss at the feeling before I got up and made my way to the bathroom to clean myself up. I returned to Matt’s room with a damp washcloth to clean him up as well “C’mon Matt let me help you get dressed before I go downstairs to get myself dressed” I told the tired looking boy. “Mhm no ‘m tired, stay for cuddles please! Wear one of my shirts and come lay down with me” he pleaded with me. Sighing in defeat I grabbed one of Matt’s shirts, throwing it over my head before going to grab two pair of his boxers, throwing a pair at him as we both got dressed. I laid down for the rest of the day, cuddling with Matt, hoping hid brothers wouldn’t have questions when they got home.
Taglist: @angelic-sturniolos111 @biimpanicking @biplrbtch @chrisenthusiast @chrisolivia4l @christinarowie332 @chr1sgirl4life @delimeats-000 @dev-speaks @ermdontmindthisaccount @flowerxbunnie @fionaheartswomen @heartsforchrisandmatt @iheartchrissturniolo @ilovemattsturn @its-jennarose @justaslvttygirl @kvtie444 @lustfulslxt @luvysworld @m6ttsturniolo @mangosrar @mangoposts @meerkatzthings @mattsnutsack @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @recklesssturniolo @solarsturniolo @soursturniolo @strniohoeee @sturniolohoe @sturniolopepsi
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sugawhaaa · 2 months
Note
HII CAN WE GET SOME KIND OF SUGGESTIVE JONGSEOB THOUGHTS CUZ IM OBSESSED WITH HIM . THANK YOUU :3
🎀JONGSEOB AS UR BOYFRIEND 🎀
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{{Suggestive ver}}
Warnings:: suggestive
Pairing:: Bf!jongseob x fem!bodied!reader
A/N:: okay so 😵‍💫 this request has been in my inbox for way too damn long and I apologize 😭 I started writing so many different Jongseob things but I decided today's the day.
So many picture Jongseob to be a cute little baby 🥺👉👈 but HAH ur wrong. Have u seen any clips of dirty-minded piwon? Jongseob always be the one to point it out istg 💀 can't blame him bc he grew up surrounded by pretty kpop women but ANYWAY
He's still a little new to real intimate things but he definitely has his dirty side
I feel like Jongseob would often get into this state every once and a while where he's just so horny to the point he can't even look at you without getting hard
Your hands are his weakness. Touch him literally anywhere slightly suggestive and he's folding like laundry
He has this odd fascination of seeing you wet. When you get out of the shower with just a towel separating your body from his eyes, when you go to the pool and you get out all dripping wet with sticky hair god he gets so flustered
Idk why but I feel like he's got a thing for cleavage too, his eyes just naturally fluttering down every now and then before looking back into your eyes
His drunk thoughts aren't for the faint of heart 😭 he'll pour his soul out to you
He'd be really ashamed about this but he'd totally masturbate to the thought of you or even photos of you
He's so bad at cleaning up after himself when it comes to masturbating mainly because he won't plan beforehand. He'll fuck your pillow but when he's done he realizes it's covered in stains.
Sometimes though, he doesn't really mind if you find his mess. He knows that you definitely know he masturbates to you very frequently and it kinda turns him on to know that you witness the aftermath of his pleasure
He gets super flushed really quickly. Whisper a little something in his ear and his cheeks are red
He'd be shy to show you his body at first, just shirtless or in boxers. He'd quickly throw something on but once he realizes you couldn't care less he starts to worry less
On the flipside when you walk around in just your bra he loses his mind. Like I said earlier he has this weird little thing for cleavage.
His a pervy little teenage boy so ofc he watches porn and ofc he's bad at hiding it too. Sometimes he'll forget to close the tabs or clear his search and you'll stumble upon some of his favorite videos~
Sometimes he'd write little songs to the thought of you, both dirty and not. The dirty lyrics go all out though and after witnessing what he's written he wants to hide away from himself.
The members would sometimes find his song lyrics and sometimes show you too. Sure it might be a little invasive but he was writing about you after all.
Once getting comfortable with you he'd love to randomly grope you. Nothing too inappropriate ofc but if you were home alone he might bring his hand around and give your butt a firm squeeze, blessed to feel such a specimen
Ofc his love for boobs falls into the too but he'd be much more gentle. He knows your breasts a more sensitive than your ass so he's very cautious.
Make out sessions with him go hard. He looks like the type to not know what he's doing but hoo boy are you wrong
He loves to bite your neck too URGH he'd love it so much. Brushing back your hair to expose your neck before licking all over to soften the skin before sinking his teeth in
This isn't very suggestive but he'd love to do your hair, running his fingers through your soft locks. Though sometimes his mind may travel, imagining it wrapped in his fist
He loves to trickle his hands up your shirt. He wouldn't have a goal, not trying to grope you or anything but just grazing his fingers over your skin purely because he can
For some reason the sight of your bras around your room kinda turn him on. He would try to ignore it, knowing it was normal to have clothing around but man he just feels all warm and tingly inside
And for the final h/c this man loves it when you sit in his lap for SO many reasons.
You and all the members were hanging out one Friday night like any other. Your boyfriend, soul, and Jiung were out in the living room while the other three were with you in the kitchen. Throughout the night a few drinks had been passed around and after getting what you had said was your last, you went out to the living room to your boyfriend. He smiled when he saw you, just like he always does. You come over to him before sitting down on his lap.
His eyes widen in surprise but he quickly recovers. He sets his can of alcohol on the table next to the couch before wrapping his arms around you. "Hey baby, what's up," he smirks before leaning back, pulling you with him. As you lean back he feels your ass rub down his length. He bites his lip hard as he squints his eyes slightly. The pressure of your body weight was a little painful but the friction was ethereal.
"Just wanted to cuddle my love~" you hum in response before taking a sip of wine. "What are you guys watching?" You ask before turning your head to look at him. You then notice the state you've got him in. His jaw clenched and his eyebrows curled. You chuckle softly.
"I dunno, some anime that I just hopped into," he shrugs and you can't hold back your smile.
"I see," you hum thoughtfully before wiggling around on his lap. You feel his body tense and it takes everything in him not to moan in your ear. He then leans up to your ear, his hands traveling up your body, resting on your breasts.
"Are you this needy for attention?" He says in a mocking voice. "You know, good girls use their words," he whispers in a low voice.
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digitaldiarystuff · 8 months
Text
Disappointed
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hi guyss (shy emoji) hope you missed me because i missed you! it looks like ruben is going for the win so enjoy 💖
————
pairing: Ruben Dias x Y/N
summary: Ruben recently ended things with you claiming he’s not ready for a relationship and as much as it hurt, you accepted but everything changed after a photo of him was leaked at the airport
genre: angst
————
‘Love Island star Arabella Chi and Man. City’s Dias appear to confirm romance’ you read The Sun’s story with a blank expression. But unfortunately your emotionless wasn’t because you didn’t care about the news, it was because of the shock you were feeling.
“Oh fuck no. He’s got to be joking!” you heard Julie, your work bestie say after she saw the title. She rolled her chair next to yours and examined your face to see a reaction but you were still glued to the screen with no visible emotion.
“Y/N, babe, are you okay?” she asked concerned.
Your head was pounding to the point you had to place your hands on the sides of your head to try to make it go away but nothing worked.
“I- I need a cigarette.” you mumbled, more to yourself reaching for your bag. You were trying your hardest to quit but in a situation like this, you couldn’t care less.
Julie warily watched your state wondering if she should come with or let you be and decided to stay at the desk giving you space. You stepped on the balcony of your workplace to calm yourself.
The news about Ruben and a reality star going on a romantic getaway was too much for you. You reached into your bag to find your pack with slightly shaky hands and lit the cigarette between your lips. Ruben hated that you smoked, he always tried to convince you to replace your bad habit with a good one but no amount of smoking would hurt you as much as seeing him go public with someone else a week later you broke off contact.
As wrecked as you were, you had to go back into the office eventually. You couldn’t just leave or stay on the balcony for hours without your supervisor noticing and you certainly didn’t feel like getting scolded at today. You begrudgingly went back in and quickly ran to the bathroom, the only upside of all of this mess was that you weren’t crying. Your body froze to the point that your tears wouldn’t fall.
When you returned to the desk, you saw Julie already closed the tab which you were thankful for. Everyone around you gave you worried looks but you couldn’t even notice. Surprisingly, you buried yourself into work for the rest of the day and didn’t leave your desk once, it was now time to clock out.
“Let’s get something to eat, you haven’t eaten all day.” Julie suggested.
“I appreciate your concern but I think I’m just going to go home now Jules.” you said but she was giving you the sad puppy eyes. “I’m okay, you don’t have to worry.”
“But”
“But nothing, have a great night.” you smiled and went to your way. As soon as you stepped foot into your home you were greeted by your puppy, Yoda. You kneeled down to pet her and just then the waterworks began running. You started sobbing and barely made it to the couch to gain some balance, feeling at home made you miss him so much more. Just weeks ago you were sitting on the same couch with Ruben just enjoying a date night and now here you were not even being able to get time off work to drown in your sorrow while he was at Paris with another woman. You suddenly felt sick to your stomach and ran to the bathroom.
After some time, you grabbed a cup of water and sat with Yoda with dried tear stains on your face. Everything in you told you not to, but you couldn’t help yourself and started reading the news and tiktoks made about the leaked pictures. The gossip pages claimed Ruben reached out to her through instagram and they started dating, no one knew for how long they’ve been together but you knew it had to start before you broke up, if you can call it that.
You were adamant from the start, you didn’t do friends with benefits or fuckbuddies. If you were going to be with someone, you would want stability. It didn’t have to be labeled but it had to be exclusive, so naturally, when you met Ruben you were hesitant. You heard about the footballer’s lifestyle but it had been him who tried pursuing you, sent you flowers everyday, shown up at the places you were at and tried to make you give him a shot and you did. You stupidly fell for it.
Everything was going great, you were falling more and more everyday and he appeared the same so you tried talking about your feelings, the first time he shut down completely. You figured this must be hard for him and backed off. The second time, you started arguing because he wasn’t giving you the answers you needed and dodged them but the last time both of you snapped. It was vicious, you were shouting at each other. He claimed you were smothering him and being controlling and you accused him of using you and being dismissive. The night ended with you slamming the door and exiting his house, leaving the key he gave you for emergencies on the console.
And a week after that, he was seen with someone and didn’t feel like he was hiding at all while he’d keep you behind closed doors throughout the months you’ve spent together.
A week had passed since that day and you were doing better. You still felt the emptiness and sudden rushes of emotion but you composed yourself and still went to work. You also stopped checking socials for any news because you couldn’t read one more thing about their romance but today was a hard day to escape Ruben. It was Man City match day so everyone was wearing their blue shirts and scarfs while you tried to get past people to run errands. You also saw his face on a giant ad on the side of a building but quickly moved past.
While out, you also got 2 bottles of red wine because you wanted to drink a little to feel better but a little quickly turned more and more. Currently you were sitting on your fluffly beige rug leaning your back against your couch. You shook the first bottle in your hand trying to see if there’s any wine in it, there wasn’t. Groaning, you picked up the remote and opened the tv and the first thing you saw was that City had won. You cursed Ruben for getting everything right, but not you.
Before your mind can comprehend what you’re doing, you opened your texting app and sent him a message. Your eyes were watery and vision blurry but you didn’t care, you were beyond angry. Soon you were dozing off slowly with your head on the sofa cushions but were woken with the voice of keys coming from your front door. You froze for a second looking for a sharp object to protect yourself from a possible break in and picked up the empty wine bottle and stood up. Your heart was beating so fast as you approached the door, fully expecting a burglar in front of you but instead, it was Ruben standing there with your keys in his hands.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa” he said flinching.
“Ruben?” you said incredibly confused and slightly relieved. “What are you doing here?”
“I- um, you sent me a text and it was really weird I just wanted to check up on you.” he said.
“And you had to do it with my keys, couldn’t you just knock?” you angrily asked. You were convinced someone was here to hurt you.
“I’m sorry, I just, didn’t know if you’d open the door if you knew it was me.” you sighed loudly thinking it’s probably right.
“I’m sorry are you still planning to hit me?” he asked.
“Why?” you asked confused.
“You still have the bottle ready to be smashed on my head.” he pointed at it and you only now realized you never lowered your hand, still holding it up.
“Oh” you just said and placed the bottle on the counter.
You both stood there for a while not saying anything.
“So, how are you?”
You looked up at him, trying to decide whether to fight or not. Maybe it was the wine in you but you just didn’t have the energy to argue, you were hurt beyond repair but fighting meant getting into it and you couldn’t.
“I’m alright.” you said after a while. “How about you?”
“I’m also alright, thank you.”
“Look Ruben-
“Y/N I think we-
You both spoke at the same time.
“You go.” he politely said.
“Ruben thank you for checking on me but I was very drunk I mean I don’t even know what I wrote. Don’t worry I’m okay.” you said calmly. You couldn’t understand how you’re this calm but maybe this was your acceptance phase.
“I mean, to be honest, I also don’t know what you wrote.”
“What do you mean?” you asked.
He pulled out his phone and started reading the text out loud.
“Rubem I habe everythong I wish I was necer yor wagfln. I think it’s Ruben I hate everything I wish I was never your waffle but don’t ask me what waffle means because no idea.”
You started laughing without realizing this is the first time you genuinely laughed this whole week. He joined and you sat on your bar stools trying to decipher your text.”
“No I think it’s ‘you’re wagging’
“Why would you tell me I’m wagging? Was I wagging on the field today?” he asked faking being offended.
“Maybe you were, that’s what the drunk lady thought.”
You sat there laughing uncontrollably at your stupidity for a while when suddenly you felt thirsty.
“You want some wine?” you asked him.
“You know I shouldn’t.” he said but it was obvious he’d love some wine.
“That never stopped you.” you didn’t mean it like a jab but it still sounded like it.
You felt the air shift but didn’t want that, even if this was wrong it felt so in place and right that you didn’t want to end up in a fight. You were feeling like yourself again and as pathetic as it sounds, hoped he wouldn’t leave.
You poured two glasses of wine and started talking about anything and everything, you told him about your supervisor getting on your nerves and he filled you in about Kyle Walker’s situation but the topic never came to you and you hoped it wouldn’t. After some more glasses you were back to being drunker than drunk and Ruben was full on tipsy. He never admitted to it but you knew he was lightweight.
“Omg it’s 3 am I have to be at work in exactly 6 hours.” you winced thinking about the hangover you’ll feel tomorrow.
When Ruben didn’t respond, you looked up at him and found him already looking at you with an intense gaze.
“What?” you asked. “Is there something on my face?”
He just smiled and leaned in. You should back off, you should back off, you should back off your logical side tried to reming you but your body had other thoughts. You leaned in so much that your noses were touching now.
“Ruben” you whispered as a last attempt to stop yourself and him because you knew the moment his lips were on yours it was game over. It always was, your sexual tension was always there but he didn’t stop, instead crashed his lips into yours for a hungry kiss. It was a messy kiss full of unspoken feelings. Everything you couldn’t tell each other was a part of it but you couldn’t stop. You mentally tried but it was a lost battle, your body acted before you could think and you placed your hands in his hair meanwhile he held you by your waist and walked you to your bedroom without breaking the kiss.
You stopped kissing him when the backs of your legs hit the bed.
“Ruben we shouldn’t.” you pleaded once more but weren’t strong enough to protest for long. His eyes turned darker with every passing second and were boring into your soul. Every part of you wanted him, needed him and you knew he felt the same.
“I’ve missed you so much querida.” he mumbled and took his shirt off while sitting you down. You couldn’t help but stare, he was so beautiful and you were getting wetter by the second but he hadn’t even touched you.
This time you took the leap and pulled him onto the bed, once he was on you straddled him and started running your lips on his collarbone and the back of his ear. Your logic was already out of the window and you were left with your undeniable desire for Ruben. He was letting out some quiet moans and you couldn’t believe a man could sound so angelic.
The next morning you woke up to the sound of your alarm with a horrible headache, every part of your body was sore and you felt even more restless than the night before. You swung the duvet off your body but stopped when you felt someone next to you. You froze when you realized what happened last night and saw Ruben peacefully sleeping in the bed with you. Your memory started coming back in bits and pieces and you mentally face palmed yourself for letting this happen. He was in a relationship and you shouldn’t have done this, you were feeling horrible and your stomach dropped. You quickly gathered your clothes and hopped in and out of the shower.
After you got ready in the bathroom you slowly walked in your bedroom, a part of you was expecting him to be gone but the other part wanted him there forever. You were conflicted and still had to go to work quickly. You thought about waking him up but were afraid to confront Ruben so you slowly took your bag and exited your home leaving him in there.
You didn’t think you could feel worse than yesterday but turns out, everything is possible.
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thisss turned out so different than what i had in mind but i love ittt! as always any feedback is appreciated take care loves💕💕
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guinea-pig16 · 2 years
Text
Late Night || Part 1
Glamrock Freddy x Reader
Disclaimer: This is an NSFW piece! 18+ only, please!
Fic is below the cut! Please enjoy! This is my first ever written fiction as well as nsfw, so I hope you like it!
Part 2 is now out! Read here!
Part 3 is out now! Read here!
Part 4 is out now! Read here!
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Word Count: 4,100+
Warnings: slow burn (takes a bit to get to the actual smut) AFAB reader, slight dom/sub vibes, usage of pet names (once), praises, awkwardness, handjob, oral sex (male receiving), gagging, a bit of pining
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Late.
That’s the only thought that went through your mind at this point.
It was late. The shitty Fazbear brand digital clock you had sitting on your desk read 1:02 AM. You didn’t mean to stay this late, but when you came in for your afternoon shift at 5 today, everything in the entire PizzaPlex decided to break. As the singular mechanic/engineer that day, you got stuck fixing every arcade machine, photo booth, and any and everything that croaked throughout the day. And after doing all that, you still had to do the required monthly maintenance on the star animatronics of the PizzaPlex. It’s not that you minded working with them, that's what you went to school to do! It’s just tedious and takes longer than needed because of all their parts. Though, you could hardly call the job dull when you had such fun ‘coworkers’.
Chica was in general fun to be around, bubbly as can be with plenty of silly gossip to chat about. Roxy really just talks about herself and tries to get you to change her hair color, nails, accessories, etcetera, claiming it will make her even cooler. Monty enjoys suggestive humor that will either have you doubled over with stitches or so horrible that it’ll have you kicking him out of your workshop faster than he can say “rock n’ roll”. 
And then there's Freddy… The face of Fazbear Entertainment. He was the whole reason you decided to go into robotics. Your first day on the job he immediately made you feel at home, with his warm smile and caring attitude. The two of you had clicked the moment you began talking. As soon as you walk through the doors at the beginning of your shift, he was by your side, asking about your day, eagerly listening to your stories, and nodding empathically to your complaints. It felt as though Freddy and you had known one another for years.
Your checkups with him always ended up being hours longer than normal, the two of you laughing and talking about who knows what. You had to admit, recently being around Freddy has made your heart flutter, your cheeks flush, and your stomach fill with butterflies. You’d felt this way before with others, but never to the degree you do with him. But it’d never work out. He was an animatronic. You highly doubted he could even feel the same way. You didn’t want to find out and risk getting hurt, so you were content with the way things are, being his friend and mechanic.
You tiredly replaced your tools from the checkup with Monty, his laughter after you kicked him out still ringing in your ears. The bastard got on your nerves faster than usual thanks to your tired state, so as soon as you gave him the green light for ‘all good’ you shoved his metal ass out of Parts and Service with the promise of replacing his voice box with a squeaky toy if he continued messing with you. 
You huffed a laugh as you recalled one of his quips as you checked your to-do list. Your eyes lit up and heart fluttered as you saw the last thing on your list.
Routine Maintenance on Freddy Fazbear
“Superstar! How wonderful to see you! Monty let me know you were ready! I thought I would save you the trouble of calling for me.”
Speak of the devil, You thought as you turned with a smile. 
Freddy beamed at you as he walked through the door and stood patiently next to the entrance of the ‘operating cylinder’, hands behind his back.
“Hey Fredster, just gimme a sec and we’ll get started.”
He gave you a polite nod and smile. You grabbed your tool kit (decorated with various stickers Chica had slapped on without you knowing), and a worn-out rolly chair to sit on while working. You rolled the chair in front of the cylinder door and quickly punched in the entry code on the computer next to the door. 
The door slid open and Hand-Unit welcomed you for the 3rd time tonight. “After you.” You said as you bowed deeply and gestured to the interior of the cylinder.
Freddy let out a chuckle and walked in and sat on the maintenance table, you following with your rolly chair and tool kit. Freddy turned to you and opened his mouth to speak, but then immediately frowned as he properly looked at your face.
“My goodness superstar, you look exhausted! Are you alright? Have you been getting enough sleep?” He said, concerned. His hand twitched towards you as if he’d reach for your face. You wrote it off as a minor movement glitch.
You shrugged and sat your tool kit on a table next to Freddy and sat down on your chair. “Ah, I’m fine. I just had a lot to do today, no biggie!” You smiled at him.
He didn’t look too convinced and opened his mouth once more, most likely to scold you for not taking care of yourself, when you cut him off. “Hey, how’d you run into Monty so fast? He’d hardly been gone 2 minutes before you showed up?”
Freddy froze a moment and looked as though he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Ah… well… I just so happened to be… taking a stroll nearby…” He twiddled his thumbs a bit and looked to the side. 
Cute, You thought as you chuckled and opened your toolkit. “Yeah, suuuure… Freddy Fazbear taking a midnight stroll next to Parts and Service. I believe it.” You turned back to Freddy, who seemed to be very interested in the floor. “Right, let’s get started. Lay down for me and I’ll check your chest compartment.”
Freddy obliged and as soon as he seemed settled, you took one of your tools and gently pried open his chest plate. You began to inspect his gears, wires, etcetera. As you worked, a comfortable silence fell upon the two of you as you focused.
“I apologize for interrupting your focus, but I have been wondering something.” Freddy asked out of the blue. You hummed in response and moved to look him in the eyes. Freddy was already looking at you, causing your heart to skip a beat.
“Monty said you had kicked him out? I was curious to know what he did to cause you to take such measures.” You grinned and let out a laugh as you turned back to his chest cavity.
“Hah! Ahh, the jerk was getting on my nerves. As you can see, I’m pretty tired, so I wasn’t necessarily in the mood for him. Monty, of course, took notice of that, and decided it’d be a great time to start flirting and making dirty jokes. He kept saying crap like ‘he knew something that’d perk me right up’, while gesturing to his crotch.” You glanced at Freddy’s face and saw he looked a bit… upset? “Ah, don’t worry! He wasn’t making me uncomfortable, I thought it was pretty funny, I just wasn’t in the mood for his shit. Besides… it’s not like he even has a dick to begin with…” You trail off as you see a loose wire in his chest. As you fix it, Freddy remains quiet for a moment.
“We do have one. If you were… wondering…” Freddy says after a couple minutes of silence. 
You freeze a moment, allowing Freddy’s words to properly process. Slowly, you lean back from his chest cavity in order to properly look at him, disbelief covering your face. 
“What.”
Freddy is now looking anywhere but you. You swear, if animatronics could blush, he would be beet red. You can hear his internal fan kick in.
“Freddy. You guys have a… No. No way. You’re just messing with me.” You say, still in disbelief, as you close up his chest plate so you can more properly speak with him.
He sits up and rests on his forearms, still avoiding eye contact. “...We do have one… Well, at least Monty and I do. I am unsure about Chica and Roxanne, I have not asked, as it is rather… inappropriate.” He appears even more nervous and embarrassed now. 
You are still in shock. Freddy and Monty, have dicks. There’s no fucking way. Before and after you got this position you poured over all the animatronics’ blueprints, maintenance logs, watched all the shittily made mechanic videos the higher-ups gave you, nothing said they even have the capability of having a penis. As you process this new revelation, some impure thoughts begin to arise…
FREDDY HAS A DICK. Oh my fucking God. Who the fuck thought of giving him one? …I wonder how big it is- SHUT UP OH MY GOD. This isn’t real, oh my God. He has to be joking, he passed by Monty, he must’ve set him up for this joke. No, that isn’t like Freddy to go along with a joke like this… I wonder if he’s touched himself before- I NEED TO STOP OH MY GOD HE’S LITERALLY SITTING RIGHT THERE. He’s my friend I need to stop- You’re suddenly shaken from your frantic thoughts by a large hand on your shoulder.
You jump slightly, a faint blush dusted across your cheeks. You look Freddy in the eyes, who appears even more embarrassed, and a bit regretful.
“I am terribly sorry Y/N, I did not mean to make you uncomfortable. I just… I am terribly sorry… Please forgive me.” He said, moving his hand from your shoulder to rest it on your hand. “I… I hope this doesn’t ruin our friendship.”
Hearing that, you quickly hold his hand with both hands. “No! No no no! You didn’t make me uncomfortable! I just… I-I didn’t think it was even possible for you guys to have one! I mean, I’ve looked over your blueprints hundreds of times, reviewed every single maintenance log, everything! And nothing said anything about you having a, uh, penis…” You break eye contact to look at the ground, unable to look him in the eye, your face growing ever more red.
“W-Well fantastic superstar! I was worried for a moment that I had scared you away, haha…!” Freddy said, gently holding your hands, also avoiding eye contact. 
A moment of awkward silence ensues, the only sound heard being your beating heart and his cooling fan frantically whirring. 
“Can… Can I see it…?” You say quietly, slightly hoping he wouldn’t hear you (which is stupid, since he can pick up the tiniest sounds). 
His head whips to face you so fast you worry for a moment he’d break something. His eyes burn into yours as you hear his cooling fan kick up a notch.
God, why’d you have to say something?
“You- you what? You want to… see my…?” Freddy stutters. If he were a person, you swear he’d be sweating by now.
“Sorry! Sorry, I don’t know why I asked that! I’m just…” God how do you even respond to that!? You just asked if you could see his dick! Family-friendly Freddy Fazbear! Your friend! You want to sink into the ground right now. Your face is on fire now. Maybe you’ve gone delirious because of how tired you are.
A moment of silence passes, again, as Freddy stares at you and you stare anywhere but him. 
“Alright.” Now it’s your turn to whip your head to look at him. Freddy appears more relaxed now, although still sheepish. 
“Uh… really? Y-You don’t have to-” 
“I don’t mind. Besides, this is all a part of the… checkup, right?” He says, his eyes twinkling with something as he looks at you, a small smile on his face.
You swallow a bit, heart fluttering with anticipation. “...Right. Right, yeah, of course!”
Freddy removes his hand from your grasp and sits up fully now. You hear a small latch sound and look toward his pelvis to see the plate there slide to the side to reveal what's beneath. With fascination and nervousness, you watch as a rounded cylindrical object rises from his pelvis. It’s quite large, maybe 7 inches tall, and wide. It’s plain orange, with a red tip. 
You stare at it in fascination and awe. 
Who the fuck decided to give Freddy a big dick? 
You look back at Freddy, who appears nervous again. “...May I… touch it…?” You ask, a bit more confidently now. 
Freddy’s eyes shoot to yours, and you swear you saw him shudder for a split second. He nods silently, intently watching your every movement.
Tearing your eyes away from Freddy, you move one of your hands to his… manhood? Honestly, you’re not entirely sure what to call it. Your fingers gently run up his cock to the tip. Freddy shivers more noticeably now, and slightly opens his mouth. 
It feels smooth and soft. If you had to guess it, it’s made from a type of silicone. You wrap a hand around the base of it, and squeeze slightly to try and get more of a feel of how it’s made. Freddy jolts a bit and lets out a breath, his eyes lidded and looking at you.
“S-Sorry… did that hurt…?” You stutter out, worried you’d caused him discomfort. 
Freddy quickly shakes his head no, his cooling fans whirring loudly. “Please… keep going…” He mumbles, gazing at you.
You flush more, and then begin gently running your hand up and down his cock. Freddy never breaks eye contact with you, his eyes half-closed now. His breath becomes labored and he grips the table. 
“...Faster… please…” He says quietly. You shiver hearing him sound so… needy. You decide you’d like to have a bit more… fun.
You smile sweetly at Freddy. “I’m sorry Freddy… I didn’t quite hear that… Could you say it again?” Your hand comes to a halt, and Freddy whines at the loss of friction.
“...Please… Go faster, Y/N…” He pleads, staring at you with lustful eyes. Your face flushes a deeper red as you smile.
“...Good boy…” He lets out a small moan when you call him that, the sound going straight to your core. You rub his cock faster, causing Freddy to let out small groans and grip the table even harder.
As you watch him moan and twitch under your grasp, an idea forms in your head. You smirk and stop all movement, causing Freddy and whine and look at you.
“...Why did you stop…?” He pants. 
“Oh, I just… have a better idea… If you don’t mind me trying it, that is.” You say, moving your head closer to his cock. 
You blush harder under his intense gaze. You hesitantly, stick your tongue out and lick the tip of his cock. 
At this small action, his whole body jolts and he lets loose groan. You smile, and then run your tongue up and down his cock. He grips the table so hard you know there will be dents later.
“Superstar… you’re, ah- making me feel so… good- ah!” He moans as you begin to put his cock in your mouth. He fully lays back on the table, moaning at every bob of your head.
Because of his size, you’re unable to fit all of him in your mouth, so using one of your hands you cover the part you’re unable to fit. You start slowly, bobbing your head up and down, enjoying the sounds of Freddy groaning. You then begin to quicken your pace, going slightly faster and faster, his moans becoming more frequent as he leans up to gaze at you.
Then, you accidentally take him in too far, causing you to gag a bit. Hearing this, it’s almost as if a switch has been flipped. Freddy’s hands fly to your head and force you to bob your head at a much faster pace than what you had been previously doing. You grip onto the side of the table to avoid tumbling out of your chair from the motion.
Freddy moans loudly and pants, his internal fan whirring as fast as it possibly can.
“Hah- Look at you my, hah, superstar… You’re doing so good, mmh! Doing so good for me…” Freddy tosses his head back and lets out a loud groan. “You look so, ah- beautiful like this! You’re so, hah… wonderful…” You moan slightly, hearing his praises, your core fluttering in excitement. Freddy bucks his hips upwards upon feeling the vibration, causing you to gag again.
“S-Sorry… Ah, D-Didn’t… mean to, hah!” He apologizes, one of his hands tangled through your hair caresses your cheek gently. 
Freddy is now hunched over your head, bobbing it up and down on his cock like his own fuck toy, not that you mind… Every moan he lets out arouses you more and more.
His pace quickens, and his moans get faster and louder. His hands grip your hair slightly tighter. You can feel his cock twitch in your mouth.
“Y/N… Ah! I’m… so cl-close… mmh! Oh Y/N… you- hah! You feel so good!” Freddy cries out, leaning his head back. 
You decide to help him out a bit. You scrape your teeth slightly against his shaft, making him cry out the loudest moan yet. He moans your name over and over like a mantra as he bobs your head down once, twice, and then opens his mouth in a silent yell.
Nothing comes out of his cock, but you feel it twitch. Freddy gently lets go of your head and collapses back on the table, panting. You pull off his shaft with a slight pop, also panting. Your face is beet red, with some small tears running from your eyes, as well as some saliva dripping from your mouth. You slowly wipe your face with your sleeve as you reflect on what you two just did.
“Y/N… that was… incredible…” says Freddy, as he sits up once more. You blush and smile.
“Yeah… it was really nice…” You rub your thighs together, your core aching a bit with lack of attention. Freddy notices this, and then hesitantly rests his hand on your thigh. You look at him and see him looking at you with kind, slightly lustful, eyes.
“Since you’ve finished your… checkup on me… perhaps I could… help you, if you wish…” He says, looking deeply into your eyes.
“Freddy…” You say, leaning closer to him. He leans in closer as well. The both of you begin to close your eyes as your lips approach his mouth.
Right as you’re about to kiss, a loud alarm blares through the silent room, causing the both of you to jump. You whip your head from Freddy to your desk, where you see your shitty Fazbear clock rattling from the sheer volume of the alarm. 
“Ah… right… That’s the um… end of my shift alarm…” You sheepishly say as you turn back to Freddy, who’s put away his, ahem, appendage. He looks a bit sad, but understanding, as he stands up from the table.
You close up your tool kit and place it on your rolly chair. Unlocking the cylinder door, you step through and put your chair and kit back in their respective places, Freddy following behind. You turn off the alarm and read the time.
Jeez, it’s 2:00 already… I didn’t think we were that long… You think as you gather your things, Freddy standing silently on the sidelines. 
You turn to him and the two of you just… look at each other. Something feels different between the two of you now. You’ve moved past friendship, but you don’t know where the both of you stand now. You’re certain of your feelings for him now, but you have no clue how he feels. Tonight was already a very big step, and you don’t want to push him any farther. Is this all he wants from me? Or was this a one-time thing? Does he still want to be my friend? Or something more? These thoughts flooded your head as Freddy glanced away and cleared his throat (or more accurately just made that sound).
“You know… it is quite late. I would feel much better if I know you made it out safely… May I escort you to the exit…?” Freddy asked sheepishly as if he hadn’t just used you as a fuck toy.
I huffed a laugh and smiled at him. “I’d love that, actually.” Freddy beamed at you and bent at the waist, offering you his arm to hold. You giggled and interlocked your arm into his and began walking to the exit of the PizzaPlex.
A comfortable silence ensued between the two of you as you made your trip out. You blushed slightly as you thought about what the two of you had done. You leaned slightly into Freddy more, enjoying his warmth and feel. You wished he would hold you like this all the time. As you leaned into him, you could have sworn you felt Freddy hold your arm a little tighter. 
God, you were in love with him.
During your walk, all you could think of were his eyes, his laugh, his smile… his moans… the way he looked at you with so much desire. Your heart ached with your want for him, for him to feel the same way… But it could never happen, you convinced yourself.
All too soon, the two of you approached the exit. You both unhooked your arms and stood and looked at each other. You opened your mouth and speak, but Freddy beat you to it.
“I just… I wanted to say… Thank you… For um, what you did for me tonight… It was wonderful…” said Freddy, looking away a moment and twiddling his thumbs. 
You smiled at him. “Hey, it was no problem! … And besides… I… Thought it was wonderful too… I really enjoyed it.” You blushed and looked at your feet.
“Well… in that case…” Freddy, then gently held your chin and tilted your face until you were looking directly into his eyes. They were slightly lidded, and he had a soft smile on his face. “Perhaps I could… return the favor sometime… If you would like…” His voice was deeper than usual. You could feel the rumble of it in your chest.
A shiver went down your spine, and your face flushed. “I… Think I’d like that very much… ‘Mr. Fazbear’...” You grinned.
He chuckled quietly and gazed at your face. His eyes wandered from your own, to your nose, to your flushed cheeks, and finally… to your lips, where they stayed. 
“...Y/N…” He said quietly. You swallowed slightly. “Yes..?”
“May I… Kiss you…?” He asked, leaning closer slightly.
You let out a breath, and leaned upwards, getting on your tippy toes. “...Yes…” You replied.
Slowly, you both closed your eyes, and met for a soft, gentle kiss. Freddy’s hand moved from your chin to caressing the back of your head, his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. You reached up and wrapped your own arms around his neck.
The kiss was so soft and gentle that it almost brought a tear to your eye. You’ve never felt so warm, so safe, so secure in your entire life. You wished it could have lasted eons.
But, good things never last, and you both unwillingly break apart from the kiss. You both stand there a moment, enjoying being in each other’s grasp, gazing into one another’s eyes.
“Well… I’d better get going… I’ve gotta get some sleep before my next shift.” You say, as you and Freddy separate from each other.
“Ah… yes. Well, I hope you have a wonderful rest of your night, and I hope you sleep well.” Freddy says with a soft smile.
You give him a smile back, and walk towards the door, opening it. Before you fully walk out, you turn back to look at him.
“See you tomorrow Freddy. Goodnight.” You say, giving a small wave. Freddy grins and returns the wave, as you finally step out into the crisp, cool night air.
As you walk towards your car, you’re internally screaming.
OH MY GOD, I KISSED FREDDY! NO WAY! I KISSED FREDDY FAZBEAR! OH MY GOD! This is a dream come true! You think to yourself as your start up your car.
You blush as you remember the… ‘promise’ Freddy made you. You have a feeling your next shift will be one you won't forget.
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I hope you liked it! I was a bit nervous about writing this, but thanks to some encouragement from some lovely people and friends I worked up the nerve and did it! I'm pretty proud of my first-ever published fanfic, and will most likely do more in the future!
Also, keep an eye out, you may see a part 2 for this in the future! (;
tagged people:
@dokoni-mo @burn-bunny
1K notes · View notes
aoioozora · 8 months
Note
THIS IS SO AMAZING OMG (talking about the Simon fanfic btw) YOU JUST EARNED A FOLLOWER ❤️❤️ we'd really appreciate it if you did a part 2? 🥹 Take care
Simon.
Part 2
Part 1 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13
Character: Simon Riley / Ghost
Content: Biker! Ghost x Fem! Reader, strangers to lovers, fluff, civilian au
Note: I was never planning on making this a series but here we go, I guess I'm invested too now >:) thank you for requesting and following! While this series is fluff only, I have a small warning for this part: there's swearing, crude jokes. And possibly incorrect usage of Scottish and English slang. Enjoy :) Photo credit: mus
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“It's pishin’ it doon out here.”
Simon looked at his friend and sighed, “English, MacTavish.” 
MacTavish groaned. “It's raining fuckin’ hard.” 
“Then say so.” 
“I did!” 
Simon and his friend, John MacTavish or ‘Johnny’, as he was affectionately called, found themselves standing under the shade of a book café, helmets in hands, watching Simon's bike get drenched in the heavy rain. Neither of them expected a downpour, and were caught without raincoats. And so the two had no choice but to wait it out. 
“It was yer bloody brilliant idea to go on a road trip when I warned ye that it was gonna rain today,” Johnny griped, crossing his arms as he shook the rain water off his helmet. 
Simon didn't say a word. He copied Johnny in getting the water off his helmet, except that he wiped it off with his hand. As he hung his head down to do so, his messy blond hair fell over his eyes, and he shook his head to get it out of the way. He wiped his hands on a handkerchief to dry them, and then pulled his mask down below his nose to inhale a fresh gulp of the cold, wet air. When he had inhaled enough, he pulled the mask back on, and his eyes wandered to his motorcycle, which was surrounded by a foggy haze in the rain. 
His mind wandered to that night he saved a young lady off the dangerous streets. He remembered how he saw her from afar, and without a second thought, sped up to her assailants, half-intent on actually flattening them into crepes. He remembered how his engine pounded as adrenaline charged his blood, as he twisted the accelerator to full throttle, sending the vehicle flying. 
A pretty lady he thought she was. He didn't know why he called her his girlfriend; his brain decided that being a boyfriend was the second most powerful thing a man could be, the first being a husband. No other men would mess with another man's woman, that was for sure, unless he had a death wish. She acted well too, convincingly even. 
He pulled out his phone and turned it around. Nestled beneath the clear casing was a small, clear candy wrapper, the same one that the pretty lady gave him that day. He didn't know why he felt the need to keep it, but did anyway. He definitely wanted something to remind him of her. 
He had been in anguish ever since he dropped her off and rode away; he had completely forgotten to ask for her name. But who does that? They were strangers. What are the odds that two strangers would meet again? 
“I'm heading inside,” Johnny announced, “I want a coffee.”
“Get me some tea.” 
“Fuckin’ Brit.” 
Simon was about to correct Johnny by telling him that Scotland, where he was from, was also part of the British isles, but he bit back, not wanting to risk hearing a rant in exclusively colorful, and totally family friendly Scottish words and phrases. 
“Fine, I'll do it myself.” Simon rolled his eyes and followed Johnny inside the book cafe. 
The two men sat at a table and while Johnny peered into the menu, Simon sank back into the comfortable chair and looked at the yellow bulbs hanging overhead, casting a soft, golden glow on the smooth wooden tables, the floors, and the cutlery. The smell of coffee, cakes, and books filled the air, along with the soft ruffle of pages, clinks of tableware and cups and saucers, and the distinct murmurs of his friend across him as he figured out what coffee he wanted to have. 
A waiter came by to take their orders, and the two were soon left to their own, sitting in unusual silence as they stared out the glass windows at the relentlessly pouring rain. While Johnny hummed a tune to himself, Simon, tired of looking at the downpour, decided to amuse himself with people watching. 
He saw people working at their laptops, some reading and drinking, others chatting in soft murmurs, and staff doing their job. 
His eyes fell on one particular lady who was seated at a table across the cafe, back facing him, busily working on her laptop. He felt his heart stop for a moment. Her silhouette was familiar, particularly her hair; it looked just like her. His heart pounded beneath his ribs. 
He didn't realise how long he looked until Johnny's voice piped, “Wit ye lookin’ at?” which interrupted the momentary buzz of his thoughts. 
Simon turned to his friend, who was looking at him with mingled curiosity and confusion. “Nothing.” he replied, shaking his head and hanging it down slightly to look away, but his eyes immediately darted to the lady, as if she was a strong magnet. 
Johnny wasn't quite convinced, and he followed Simon's line of vision. “A lass,” he observed, smirking. 
Simon glared at his friend, but it only made him chuckle. The two watched as she stood up for a moment and turned around, intent on walking to the shelves to grab a book. That's when Simon saw her face, and again, his heart seized. 
“It's her.”
His breath lodged tight in his lungs and his body visibly stiffened. And the most unfortunate reaction of them all: his partially exposed cheeks had turned pink. His eyes were glued to her, and he was unaware that Johnny was still keenly observing him. 
“Ye ken her?” asked Johnny, his smirk widening. 
“You remember I saved a girl the other day?” He asked back. 
“That's her?” Johnny whipped his head back again to take another gander at the lady. 
She was furiously flipping through the pages of a hardbound book, as if desperately in search of something. Simon rested his elbow on the armrest of the chair and leaned his cheek on his fist; he watched with interest as she hunched over the book like a medieval scholar, and wondered what her occupation was. She went back to her seat, hunched over again, and the two men looked back at each other. 
“Go talk to her,” Johnny challenged.
“No.”
“Keep bein’ a fuckin’ pussy and ye won't get to fuck that pussy, ye ken?” 
Simon snorted at that, but then immediately and quietly hissed “Wheesht!” at Johnny to make him shut up, glancing back at the pretty lady. “Don't be disrespectful,” he added.
Johnny chuckled, ever amused at the fact that his Scottish vernacular was infecting the Englishman. He leaned forward, resting a hand on his knee, continuing to smirk, “Since when did ye care about respect, huh?” 
Simon inhaled sharply, since he was getting increasingly impatient with Johnny and at the fact that he was running out of arguments. It was also a bit hard to argue in a place where you're supposed to be quiet. 
“Just go already. I cannae see ye looking so stupid like this. The worst she can say is ‘fuck off’.” Johnny shrugged. 
Simon shot his friend and unimpressed look, making Johnny snort. “That is the worst thing she can say, you wanker,” he said, now mechanically rising from his chair. 
“Fuck off and get her number, ye gobshite, or else you'll just be wanking to her and not talking.” Johnny shook his head with a smirk and gave his friend a slap on the back as he passed him. Simon returned the gesture with a slap to the back of Johnny's head, particularly in annoyance at the latter part of his sentence. 
While Johnny whined quietly from how hard a slap he had been dealt with, Simon's attention was drawn when he heard her voice again, sounding a little agitated. His head whipped towards her table, and yet again, she was being hit on by some guy, and clearly looked like she was uncomfortably fighting back his unwanted advances. 
Simon glared at the man as he began his march. “If only she had a boyfriend by her side, a guard dog…” he thought to himself as he speedily, yet calmly stepped over to her table. 
He went around some tables and emerged behind the man, towering over him. Before Simon was noticed by her, his hand came down heavily on the man's shoulder, making him flinch. Leaning down, he whispered as the man turned to face him, “What business do you have with my girlfriend?” 
The man was met with Simon's glaring eyes that meant serious business. He froze up immediately. 
“Babe, he was trying to hit on me even though I told him I wasn't interested,” the lady's voice resounded, and a quick glance at her told Simon that her eyes glimmered with recognition. 
The “babe” made his knees weak for a moment, but he shook off the feeling and continued to glare at the man. No more words were needed. He immediately stood up from his seat and strode away, apologising without sincerity. When he was finally earshot, she sighed. 
“You alright, love?” asked Simon with gentleness unusual to him, glancing around again to make sure the man was nowhere in sight. 
“Yeah, I'm fine,” she sighed, also looking in the direction the man left. She looked back at him and smiled brightly, “But what a coincidence. We meet again, Simon.” 
“And I'm mighty chuffed about it.” he thought to himself as he nodded in response. “Funny coincidence, really. My friend and I were just about to leave on a small road trip and the rain,” he shook his head and clicked his tongue as he looked at the windows, “it rained on our parade, I guess.”
The unintentional pun made her giggle. Simon normally had a grip on his emotions, but that damned giggle threw off his train of thought. But regaining himself, he continued, “So we took shelter here, and I saw you. Thought I'd come talk and then I heard that guy trying to make a pass at you.”
She motioned to the chair for him to sit down, which he instantly did; he cursed himself for seeming so eager. 
“You heard?” she asked with emphasis. 
“Yeah?” he nodded, slightly confused as to why she zeroed in on that word in particular. “I was looking elsewhere, and then I heard you.”
She then glanced at her laptop for a moment and then pulled the screen down slightly so he wouldn't see what was on. As she did, she said, “I see. I'm lucky you came just then because I was having a hard time driving him away.”
“I could tell,” he answered slowly. He then decided to change the subject. “You come here often?” 
“Yeah, every day. This place is calm and quiet and the atmosphere helps me work.”
“What's your job?” 
“I'm an author.” 
“An author?” he blinked in surprise. He didn't expect that. “What do you write about?” 
“Fantasy and adventure… With a hint of romance.” She grabbed her tote that was on the table and pulled out a book from it, which she showed him. “This is my first published book.” 
“No kidding?” He took the book in my hand. It was titled ‘Firefly Trails’, embossed in gold. The cover was matte, showing a dark forest trail dotted with glossy fireflies and their greenish yellow light. Below the title was her name, and he read it in his mind slowly, his eyes spending more time taking it in more than anything else on the cover. 
“New York Times Bestseller.” he recited, smirking as he eyed the epithet on the top of the cover, “Don't they slap this on every book?” 
“They do, but this actually did pretty well in New York.”
“So you're famous then?” 
“Kind of?” 
“Tell me your Instagram handle, I'll need to see for myself.” Simon pulled out his phone and looked at her, waiting for her to tell him. 
She did. He immediately typed it out on the search bar and while he did, he rested his elbow on the table, holding his arm upright. His neck was craned upward slightly, and the lady couldn't help but stare at the way his Adam's apple moved as he gulped, and the way the sternocleidomastoid muscle tightened and popped from under his fair skin as he moved his neck. 
Her analytical, authorly eyes scanned him keenly, soaking in all she could make of his facial features; at his icy blond hair, short and styled in an undercut; his long eyelashes, his shapely eyebrows, his slightly pink cheeks under the black mask, the way his brown eyes reflected against the blue light of the phone screen; it was all a sight to behold. He was saying something, but her mind was so lost in trying to mentally string words together to describe the view in front of her in the most superfluous manner possible, in hopes that this information would be used in her future works. 
“Hey, you really are famous. You got quite a tonne of followers.” Simon, who was highly aware of her shameless staring, somehow managed to interrupt her flow of thought. 
She was successfully brought back to Earth from her daydream, and she nodded, now embarrassed to have been caught red-handed. He thankfully made no comment on it, not wanting to make things awkward.
She answered, “I suppose so. But they're not as many as bigger authors. I'm not complaining, though. I'm really happy to have a lot of people liking my work.”
“You're too modest,” he said, and she could see his cheeks rise to his eyes just a wee bit behind his mask, indicative of a smile. He now showed her her Instagram page on his phone. “There, I followed you,” he said, pointing at the grey ‘Following’ button.
“Are you sure? You don't look like the type of person who reads or is interested in author updates.” A slightly teasing smirk tugged the corner of her lips. 
Simon chuckled and shook his head slightly, making his short hair swish a little; she took notice of it. “I'm a voracious reader,” he bragged, lying through his teeth, even using a fancy word to make it more convincing. 
She smiled, clearly not quite convinced, but decided to humor him anyway. “If you are, then that book is a gift for you.” She glanced at the copy resting on his lap. 
“No kidding?” he blinked as he took the book in his hand to gaze at it. “Well, since you're so famous, I think I should get your autograph.” he said, and she could see one of his cheeks raised; an unmistakable smirk. 
“Oh, come on, you're making me blush,” she giggled, but took the book anyway.
"My intentions exactly," he thought as he watched her grab a pen and start writing on the first page. 
His phone buzzed a message in the meantime, and he took the device to have a look. It was Johnny. He glanced at the other end of the cafe at his friend, and found him staring, finishing the last sips of his coffee. 
Johnny MacTavvy: oi yer tea's getting cauld 
Johnny MacTavvy: Rain's stopped too. Let's go 
Simon now looked out the glass windows and the rain had indeed stopped, and a bit of sunlight was peeking through the cloudy skies. He sighed, not wanting to go just yet, but knowing Johnny wouldn't let him tarry any longer, he quickly typed a reply, which Johnny saw immediately. 
Fuckin’ Brit: ok 
By the time Simon kept his phone in his pocket, the lady finished her autograph and handed the book to him. “Enjoy.” She smiled. 
Simon murmured a “Thanks” as he received the book, and then rose from his seat. 
“Leaving already?” she asked, looking a little disappointed. 
“Yeah, my friend's annoying me to finish my tea so we can be on our way. The rain's stopped now, so…”
“Okay,” she nodded slightly, glancing out the windows to confirm for herself. Looking back at him, she smiled again, “Take care then.” 
“You too,” he inhaled. “Make sure you don't get hit on again,” he said, attempting to be casual and funny, but he felt like his attempt turned out to be so stupid. 
She shook her head, scoffing and smiling. “I'll be fine.” 
He was relieved that the attempt landed safely despite the turbulence, and he sighed. “Right then, I'll see you inna bit, love.” 
“See you, Simon.” 
He nodded once at her and then strode back to Johnny, feeling his knees get weaker by the second. He managed to reach his table and practically fell down in his seat. 
“Well?” asked Johnny with a smirk as he leaned forward and eyed the book in Simon's hand. “She gave ye a gift, I see.” 
“She's an author. Her first book.” Simon answered, handing him the book so he could see it. 
“For real?” Johnny took the book and flipped through the pages. The autograph on the first page caught his attention and he read it. His eyes widened slightly and he closed the book, returning it to his friend, who was drowning the lukewarm tea. “He completely forgot, didnae he, this bastard.” Johnny muttered under his breath, smirking. 
“What was that?” asked Simon, setting down the teacup. 
“Nothing. Let's go.” 
The two paid for their drinks and as they stepped out the door, Simon glanced back at her, and saw that she was also looking at him over her shoulder. This time, he felt a bit fluttery in his stomach. She waved at him with another of those pretty smiles and he waved back, already feeling his knees go weak again. 
The two turned away and exited the book cafe. While Johnny wiped the rainwater off the motorcycle, Simon took a moment to see what she had written as an autograph. 
“Dear Simon, thank you for saving me twice. I hope you enjoy the book,” was written, and along with that was her name and signature.
Below that was written in unmistakably bold and clear letters, “Call me,” along with her number. 
Simon felt like he had been struck by lightning. His face turned alarmingly red and hot to the point that he scrambled to pull his hood over to hide himself. “Fuck me…” he mumbled his exclamation as he processed this very clear green light from her. It was unbelievable. 
In the meantime, the lady herself  couldn't believe this whole thing just happened. He happened to be there, came up to her, saved her, and swooped her off her feet the second time. It was an amazing coincidence, a once in a lifetime incident, something straight out of a novel. And being an author, she couldn't let this go. She just had to shoot her shot by slapping her phone number in the autograph and now hope that he would call her.
But if there was one thing that sold her completely, it was the fact that he heard that she was in trouble, and came to her rescue. 
Feeling a flutter in her chest, she looked back at her laptop screen. A Google search result was displayed in bold:
“The name Simon means ‘to hear’.”
End of Part 2.
Part 3
321 notes · View notes
mostmagical · 8 months
Text
for @zodoods, I hope this lives up to expectations 🙏
Words: 4k Summary:
Marinette knew she tended to get tunnel vision when she was focused, but luckily her boyfriend Chat Noir was always there to watch her back as they fought Monarch. With their enemy having disappeared, however, they decided together that it was finally time to reveal themselves. In public. Face to face. It's a little silly to have to introduce yourself to your own boyfriend, but after all, it wasn’t Marinette’s fault that she never knew her boyfriend’s name. (Adrien has never been to school, and Marinette doesn't know him.)
Marinette hadn’t known her smile could be so wide. Staring at herself in the reflection, she couldn’t be bothered to worry about the awful dark circles under her eyes, or the frizzy mess of her hair. Everything could be covered or smoothed over, after all. None of that really mattered. Not when her whole world was about to change.
Today was the day.
“Today,” she breathed the word to herself. “Tikki, can you believe it’s today?” she asked, turning around to look towards her kwami.
Tikki giggled from where she sat atop the dresser. “You and Chat Noir have only been planning it forever,” she replied.
The smile was beginning to make Marinette’s cheeks ache. “We have.”
For months following the disappearance of Monarch, Ladybug and Chat Noir had been planning and mentally preparing to finally reveal their identities to one another, eventually coming to the conclusion that they were both ready for it just a week prior. She could still see Chat’s goofy smile in her mind’s eye, clear as day.
“So, we’re really doing this?” he had asked as they sat atop a rooftop together. “For real?”
“For real,” she had replied, excitedly nodding her head. Taking his hand in hers, she had pressed three rapid kisses to the back of it, trying to impress all of her enthusiasm and all of her love into his skin through the suit. “I can’t wait to meet you, mon Chaton,” she had promised him.
His face was rosy, with that big, beautiful smile of his stretching out his cheeks. “Neither can I, my Lady.”
Marinette let out a low squeal at the not-so-distant memory, pressing her hands against her hot cheeks.
She was going to meet her boyfriend. For the first time.
Well, not exactly the first time, but first enough.
They had plans to meet at a little café just a few blocks from the Grand Palais. He had surprisingly been a bit apprehensive at first, but she assured him everything would be okay. Marinette promised to wear the rose he had given her in her hair, and she was going to look for the boy wearing the scarf she had made him on his pretend birthday (and then he could tell her his real birthday!).
She couldn’t wait.
This day was a long time coming, and Marinette had plenty of fantasies to prove it. She wanted to hold her boyfriend’s hand in public, kiss him and go to the movies, all without a crowd of people taking photos of them. She wanted to goof off and be silly with him, all without worrying about being a hero, or acting like a good role model. She wanted to take him over to her house, and have him meet her parents, and stay for dinner without the threat of a supervillain interrupting the desert.
And after today, all that could finally be reality.
She got to work applying her makeup and wrangling her hair, not wanting to waste another second. Although she was notoriously late for most events, this was something she hoped to actually arrive early to. The ruby red dress she had laid out the previous night while she should have been sleeping was the last to slip over her head, perfectly matching the scarlet of Chat’s rose tucked behind her ear. The knee-length skirt fluttered to and fro as she took one last scrutinizing look in the mirror. Everything had to be perfect for her not-so-first impression.
Once she was finally satisfied, Marinette tossed her purse over her head. As soon as Tikki was settled and comfortable, she at last headed out.
There was a skip in her step the entirety of the walk, completely out of her control.
Although excitement was certainly at the forefront of her emotions, she would be lying if she didn’t acknowledge that little seed of nervousness. What if he didn’t like her? (He would.) What if he wasn’t as kind as she thought, and his personality was nothing more than a front? (Impossible.) What if his nerves got the best of him, and he didn’t show?
With her heart thundering in her chest, she turned the last corner to bring the café into view.
Her eyes zoned in on a mop of blond hair instantly. It was neat and combed back— completely at odds with the wild wind-blown look she was used to seeing on her boyfriend, but something in the way her stomach twisted and swooped inside of her told her that she may have spotted him. Taking slow steps closer, she traced the curve of his posture with her eyes as he sat hunched over the tiny café table, gasping slightly as she located the familiar shade of blue peeking from his collar.
It had to be him. It had to.
A chorus of giggles broke her concentration, drawing her eyes to a gaggle of girls a couple tables over. They were whispering excitedly and pointing in the direction of the same mop of blond hair, all with cell phones raised. A sudden wave of heat ran up Marinette’s spine as she realized they were ogling him.
She wasn’t surprised that girls were looking at him. Chat Noir was the cutest, most handsomest boy in the world, so of course they would. But that was her cutest and most handsomest boy in the world.
Her slow steps quickly evolved into a fast walk until she was right beside him, at which she practically threw herself onto the table, bodyblocking the girls’ view. The boy visibly jumped at her entrance. She glanced at his face for his reaction, but his eyes were covered by large sunglasses, effectively hiding any expression of recognition. Face feeling suddenly warm, Marinette stood back up straight and cleared her throat, casually drumming her fingers against the laminate surface.
“H-hi. I’m looking for my kitten,” she said, uttering the code phrase they had planned to use to confirm each other’s identities.
The boy smiled, instantly easing her worries. “I saw a little bug on the flyer.”
A grin spread across her cheeks before she could stop it, giddiness overflowing to the tips of her fingers. “I found you,” she murmured, just quiet enough to be just for him.
He stood from his seat, still smiling, and Marinette thought he was going in for a hug until he stepped around her. She was only confused for a second before he pulled out the chair on the other side of the table.
“Oh.” So the gentlemanly thing wasn’t an act after all. Accepting the gesture, Marinette turned to sit, feeling him push the chair in behind her as she did so. “Thank you.”
He simply hummed, before returning to his own seat across from her.
“So, um–” Not really sure where to start, (how does one introduce themselves to the boy they’ve been dating for two years?) Marinette figured the basics should go first. She almost wanted to laugh as she realized she was essentially on a blind date with her long-term boyfriend. “I’m Marinette,” she said, tugging at her bangs before pushing them behind her ear.
“Marinette,” he breathed. Breathed, as in he actually sighed her name when he said it. Marinette thought she might melt. “That’s a beautiful name.”
She wondered how dopey her smile must look to him. “Thank you,” she replied. “And you are?”
Thin blond eyebrows raised over the rims of the glasses, before dropping back down out of sight almost as quickly as they appeared. He laughed. “Okay,” he said between chuckles. “I’m Adrien.”
Marinette wasn’t quite sure what was so funny, but his laughter was just as contagious as always. With a giggle, she stuck out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Adrien.”
His returning smile was soft. “Nice to meet you, Marinette.” He took her hand, and turned it to rest atop his on the table, running smooth circles over the back of her palm with his thumb. The feeling of his warm skin on hers was foreign and exciting, setting off yet another flurry of butterflies in her stomach.
“You still wear your pigtails,” he stated.
Naturally, her free hand trailed to her hair. She smiled as her fingers brushed the velvet petals of the rose. “They’re kind of my armor,” she replied with a shrug. “All the better for you to recognize me.”
The corner of his lip twitched, but the soft smile remained unchanged. Part of her wondered if he was still nervous about meeting. Hoping to ease his worries, she grinned.
“And I’m glad to see you don’t wear whiskers,” she joked.
He laughed again, and that seemed to be enough to lower the tension in his shoulders, to Marinette’s relief. “You’re right, I don’t,” he said. “I have a clean public image to maintain, you know.”
Marinette furrowed her brows, trying and most likely failing to hide the confusion on her face. It was surprising; Chat Noir was definitely the type of person who would grow “whiskers” just to commit to the bit. To each their own she supposed. Mustaches did seem to be more supervillain-y than superhero-y, after all.
“I do have to ask, though, what’s with the glasses?” she asked, moving the conversation along. “They’re so big, they’re covering half your face. Any plans to take those off?”
“Well, I–” Adrien’s head turned minutely towards the girls at the table behind her, barely perceptible to anyone who wasn’t looking for it. “I don’t know.” His hand pulled at the scarf where it crossed over his black t-shirt.
“Please,” she insisted, putting on her best baby-doll eyes. “How unfair you get to see all of my face and I can’t see all of yours.” She held his hand tighter, imploring but hopefully he knew it was still light-hearted.
“Marinette, it’s just–”
She pulled out her secret weapon: the pout. His mouth instantly stopped moving.
“I’ve never really seen your eyes before,” she added. At his answering sigh, she felt a bout of pride swell in her chest. Victory.
Hesitantly, he removed the sunglasses and folded them on the table, all the while looking shyly up at her through golden lashes.
Marinette’s pulse quickened as she finally— really— met his eyes. Such strange feelings of déjà vu ran through her when she caught sight of how green they were. It was the first time she had seen his whole face, and yet it already felt so nostalgic and familiar. It was almost as if she had seen him before, and she supposed she had, in her dreams at the least.
“Gorgeous,” she sighed, unable to stop her tongue from embarrassing the rest of her.
All the regret she might have held drained out of her, however, when she saw how pink his cheeks went in response. His dropped jaw slowly curved into a small smile, and those pretty green eyes closed in half moons as he replied, “Thanks for the compliment.”
Was this really the same boy?
Marinette snorted. “What? No cheesy remark about how you knew I wouldn’t be able to resist you?”
“I’m just far too stunned by the beauty in front of me to think straight,” he said, mouth pulled sideways. “I daresay you could outshine me anyday.”
There he is.
She rolled her eyes in response, but she couldn’t deny the coils of warmth that spread across her skin. With a fond shake of her head, she brought one elbow to the top of the table to cradle her chin in her hand.
“You know, you’re taking this really well,” Adrien said, the smirk fading back to a humble smile. It was odd seeing him so reserved. “Better than I thought you would.”
“Taking what well?” she asked. Her heart squeezed in her chest as she recalled his apprehension from the night before. She attempted to keep things light, sliding into a teasing tone as she conspiratorially whispered, “Did you think I wouldn’t like you without the cat ears, mon Chaton?”
“Well, no, that’s not exactly—”
She cut him off, making sure to speak with all the sincerity she could muster, “Because there is no universe where I wouldn’t like you.” With a coy wink, she added, “Believe me. I checked.” She grinned with pride as her fingers squeezed his on the table, feeling as though she had one-upped him in cheesiness.
Again, his mouth hung open slightly as he processed her words, but soon morphed back into the soft smile. His head tilted to the side. “You always know what to say to make me happy, my–” The corners of his lips twitched, his intended endearment clear to both of them— “my Marinette,” he said instead, pulling their joined hands up to brush his lips against the back of her palm.
Dimly, Marinette registered the sound of a squeal from somewhere behind her.
“But, um, no.” His countenance took on a much more nervous expression, his free hand drifting back to play with the nape of his neck. “I meant more–” He paused, waving his hand awkwardly towards himself.
“What?”
His brows furrowed, mouth open and clearly poised to explain himself, but he was interrupted by a waiter arriving to take their orders, and the moment was surreptitiously forgotten.
As the date went on, conversation flowed freely between them. Marinette learned so many of his favorite things, what he was studying in school, that he was an only child just like her, and of course, his birthday, time and year. So many things that she would normally have naturally learned over time, which was something that she took for granted in her other relationships with family and friends. It was odd, but wonderful that this absurd blind date was just another unique experience that they could share together.
She would have been more than happy to talk to him forever if she could, but a trill from Adrien’s phone stopped their conversation short.
His eyebrows turned down as he read the screen. “How did it get so late?” he pouted, just as cute as before when he wore cat ears on his head. “I’m sorry, Marinette, but I have to go.”
Her smile was sympathetic, barely holding herself back from mirroring his pout. “That’s okay,” she replied. “We’ll just have to have our next date sooner.”
The answering smile on his face made it all worth it.
Adrien’s fingers flew across his keyboard for a second, before another trill responded. “My bodyguard says he can take you home, though!” he announced happily. “So we can spend a little more time together.”
Marinette couldn’t stop the confused noise from escaping her mouth. “Your…bodyguard?” she repeated slowly.
“Yeah!” He looked up from his phone, lips softly quirked upwards. “And don’t worry; he may look mean but he’s the kindest man I’ve ever met.”
That certainly wasn’t something Marinette was worried about, but now she felt like she needed to be.
She tried to cross the appropriate wires in her head. Okay, so Chat Noir, famed superhero of Paris and wielder of the power of destruction, had a bodyguard in his everyday life. And that bodyguard apparently drove him places?
Perhaps she needed to collect more evidence.
Too busy thinking to come up with anything to say, Marinette mutely nodded her agreement.
Having already paid the bill— well, Adrien paid, despite her protests—, the two stood from their seats and headed down the sidewalk. Marinette followed Adrien closely, too busy sweeping her eyes across the busy street to spot this ‘mean-looking’ man to notice Adrien’s knuckles bumping into hers. She finally looked up at him when he laced their fingers together and squeezed. His green eyes almost seemed to shimmer as they looked into hers, and Marinette could feel all that wound-up tension melt away in response.
The spell between them was broken by a sudden honk.
Adrien was the first to break eye contact, turning back towards the street. “Oh! There he is.”
Marinette followed his gaze. Her eyes widened as they landed on the sleek sedan that had pulled up to the curb in front of them. She didn’t know much about cars, but she knew enough to identify the logo of a luxury brand. The car was well-washed and shiny, unlike most of the vehicles that parked along the dirty city streets.
A burly man emerged from the driver’s side door, and walked around the car. To Adrien’s credit, he did seem a bit scary, based on sheer size alone, but Marinette supposed her Papa was probably about the same size. She figured if the man smiled a bit more, he would come off much friendlier. He greeted the two of them with little more than a low grunt and a nod, before briskly opening the rear passenger side door.
Marinette froze in place as she waited for one of the others to move. She couldn’t for the life of her understand what was going on. Was Adrien going to drive and this man was graciously letting her have the front seat?
“Marinette?” Adrien cleared his throat. “Are you ready to go?”
She blinked a few times, looking back and forth between the open door and her boyfriend’s face. “Um, yes,” she replied nervously. “I’m ready.”
He bowed his head, gesturing with his free hand towards the open door. “Then, after you, my lady.”
The familiar name quelled the voices in her head long enough for her to step forward. “Thank you, my prince,” she teased in response.
Though she did step in first, she held fast to his hand, pulling him along with her. The inside of the sedan was just as clean as the outside. Small tablets nestled into the back of both front headrests, and a far fancier screen than Marinette had in any of her devices at home was centerstage on the dashboard. She could feel her eyes widening as she took it all in.
Chat Noir was rich.
Chloé Bourgeois rich, maybe.
That was… unexpected. Admittedly, she never imagined Chat to have a high-class upbringing (if she could even call Chloé’s that). She had always envisioned him as a rough and tumble sort of kid. He would take soda over wine any day. Canned tuna over caviar. He had never turned up his nose to fast food, or cheap nosebleed seats at a concert, or acted like he was any better than anyone else.
No, Chat– Adrien— was amiable, gracious, and an appreciator of the little things–
“Marinette?”
She whipped her head around to meet her boyfriend’s gaze, having been yanked from her thoughts. “Yes?”
Adrien seemed to be holding back a laugh, clearly having recognized her thinking face. “Your address?”
“Oh!” She leaned forward in her seat, directing her attention to the driver. “12 Rue Gotlib, if you’re sure you don’t mind.”
Adrien’s face lit up in the rearview mirror. “That’s just around the corner from us!”
“Really?” She was reminded of that flash of déjà vu she had felt upon seeing his face for the first time. Maybe they had met before. Most people who lived in the 21st arrondissement got their baked goods from her parents’ bakery, and Marinette often worked the front counter. They must have had at least one encounter before as their civilian selves.
It was almost a shame.
She would have loved to know that her favorite person was just around the corner.
He tightened his grip on her hand as she turned back to face him. “Almost too good to be true,” he said, echoing her thoughts.
All lamentations of lost time were forgotten at that, and she chose instead to be happy in the moment they had now. She smiled, squeezing his hand back.
They were content to spend the short ride in comfortable silence after having spent the majority of their time together with endless conversations. Adrien’s bodyguard didn’t ask any questions after Marinette gave her address, so she saw no reason to try chatting with him when she could cuddle into Adrien’s arm instead. The world was pink and fuzzy, and the only leather pressed against her skin was that of the car seats. Feeling the rise and fall of Chat Noir’s breaths through warm cotton was a wholly different, welcome experience.
The ride was too short, however, and before she knew it, they had pulled up in front of her family’s bakery.
Adrien’s short intake of breath pulled her eyes upwards, and she noticed him staring at the sign with eyes full of wonder. “Whoa, you live so close to the boulangerie,” he noted.
Marinette grinned. “Well, yeah, I live above it,” she said, delighted when his head whipped back to face her. “My parents own it.”
His eyes looked about ready to bulge out of their sockets. “You do?”
She pointed to the sign. “And I designed the logo. Tom and Sabine Boulangerie,” —she turned the finger towards herself— “Tom and Sabine daughter.”
Adrien’s face was painted with the most excitement she had seen from him all day. “That’s so cool! They have the best macarons— I’ve had some at events when we get catering— and I’ve asked Nathalie a few times, but, well–” His face was a bit pink as he paused. “You’re amazing, Marinette.”
“I’ll have to bring you some macarons next time I see you,” she giggled.
His eyebrows danced over his eyes. “Now I know why you’re so sweet.”
“Oh, hush.” She lightly shoved his shoulder. “Takes one to know one.”
Following some pointed clearings of the throat from the driver’s seat, they eventually got out of the car and Adrien walked her to her door. She left him with a quick kiss and a promise to text him later.
The remainder of the day went by in a blissful blur. Dinner, homework, and television with her parents faded into the background as she slipped lovingly into her daydreams. Adrien was too busy to talk, but he had sent her a few hearts and memes throughout the evening, and she looked over all of them with her chest fit to burst. Before she knew it, it was time for bed and they were texting each other good night.
It wasn’t until the next morning that Marinette realized the true shift the world had undergone.
The incessant buzzing of her phone was an unwanted wakeup call. Marinette blindly slapped her hand against the mattress until her fingers met the smooth plastic of her phone case. She slowly cracked her eyes open as the screen lit up again with notifications.
New Message - 🦊Alya🔥(32), Missed Call - 🦊Alya🔥 (2), New Message - Adrien ♥️🐈
Wondering what was so desperate for Alya to be blowing up her phone so early, Marinette quickly responded to Adrien’s “Good morning <3” in kind before opening the floodgates. She was immediately treated to a number of news articles, all caps messages, and photos. Photos of her and Adrien.
Her fingers flew through the slideshow of photographs: Adrien waiting alone with those ridiculous sunglasses, herself haphazardly draped over the table, Adrien kissing her hand, the both of them stepping into his car. She paused on one of the last photos. It was of the two of them, hand-in-hand as they waited for their ride. Adrien’s soft eyes that had mesmerized her up close were just as soft from a careful distance.
She blinked rapidly as she processed it all.
How did Alya get these?
Scrolling back up in her conversation history with Alya, she looked at the articles again, scanning over the headlines: “Adrien Agreste - Dating?” “Adrien Hits the Town with Mystery Girl!” “Who Caught the Eye of Adrien Agreste?” “Agreste Son is Growing Up!”
…Agreste?
The conversation shot down to the bottom as another text from Alya came in: CANT BELIEVE YOU DIDNT TELL ME????
Faster than she could process, Marinette swiped away from her messages to plug “Adrien Agreste'' into her search engine. A shocking thousands of images popped up, all of her boyfriend in various poses and campaigns— including one with the bowler hat she had designed for a competition run by Gabriel Agreste.
A banner notification popped up at the top of her screen, Marinette’s finger tapping it automatically.
Adrien ♥️🐈: I have a photoshoot until around noon, but do you want to get ice cream after?
Marinette dropped the phone as everything suddenly became clear.
Perhaps maybe their civilian relationship wasn’t about to be quite as low-key as she thought.
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amateurasterism · 2 years
Text
how you met him !
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synopsis ; how strangers to lovers unfolds between you and the seventeen members.
pairing ; seventeen x gn!reader
notes ; fluff, strangers to lovers. tysm for all the love on the jeonghan fic!!<3 i may make some of these scenarios into actual fics idk
word count ; 2.7k (about 150-250 per member. i got kind of carried away for some lol)
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choi seungcheol
getting stood up on a date was already bad enough, let alone the fact it was pouring rain and your dumbass didn’t think to bring an umbrella. you’re stranded three hours from home, soaking wet in front of the restaurant you just got stood up at when suddenly a car pulls up. the guy in the drivers seat is cute, so when he says his name is seungcheol and offers you a ride home, you can’t help but say yes and hop into the passengers seat, hoping he wasn’t some kind of kidnapper. luckily, he wasn’t, and drives you home safe. you figure the least you can do in payment of his soaked car is invite him over for dinner. sadly he has to leave after your impromptu date (that definitely made up for earlier), full of rosy cheeks and flirts, so you linger in your entryway and realize he forgot his coat that he lent you in the rain. hanging it up in a closet, you notice there’s a note in the pocket with his number on it, because of course you forgot to ask.
you’re a mess, ten minutes late for your daily cafe run before work. when you finally make it, beyond glad that you’re able to have your usual latte and croissant to fix your messy morning, you find a man standing at the register, about to buy the last of your usual croissant. panic spreads through your system as you see the cashier giving him the paper bag with the last croissant in it, running towards the man and explaining to him how it was your usual and you couldn’t function without it. you note his cup of coffee in his hand, jeonghan written on the side in sharpie. staring at you with the barest glint of mischief in his eyes, jeonghan buys it right in front of you with a mocking slide of his card through the card reader, only for him to then sit down at the closest table and beckon you over to sit at the chair across from him, the pastry already waiting for you at your offered seat.
joshua hong
joshua hong
mother’s day is just around the corner, which means joshua is getting flowers for his mom. this is his first time being back home for mothers day, so he will admit that walking into your florist shop has him a bit overwhelmed. of course you notice the cute guy who happened to stumble into your shop during the slower hours of the day, meaning it’s just you and him. you’ve been watching, a small smile on your face as he stares at the flowers draping the walls the shelves, occasionally touching one and taking a photo. he’s been at it for nearly ten minutes now, so you decide to help him, assuming the flowers are for his girlfriend and indirectly calling him cute (“i’m sure your girlfriend will appreciate anything, i mean, how could she not appreciate someone like you?”) he’s so quick to tells you the flowers are for his mom that you almost suspect it’s panic laid in his voice. at the end of the day, joshua ends up spending a lot of extra time at your florist shop as he stalled, just wanting to hear you talk about your passion for flowers. when he finally has to leave, he buys an extra bouquet of your favorite flowers and hands it to you with a note hidden inside one of the petals.
 wen junhui
today, you finally get to meet your co-star on the new romance drama you would be starring in. you decided to refrain from looking at his socials to give yourself a surprise, because why not? needless to say, you’re excited to see him, nearly bouncing on the couch of the meeting room. you find that you immediately regret decision when wen junhui walks through the doors because, fuck, you did not expect him to look like that. as if seeing him just standing there wasn’t enough to give you a heart attack, the universe decided to toy with you a little more. surely enough, you were not the slightest bit mentally prepared for the moment he walked to up to you and gave you the shyest, cutest, and somehow also hottest smile you’d ever seen. it did not help that his blonde bangs, perfectly outgrown to fall over his cheeks and tickle his neck and ears where you could see him turning pink. any words you could’ve thought to say dissolved on your tongue, and all you can manage to muster is “hi…” he lets out a chuckle that sounds better than your favorite song that makes you beam, and that pink tint you swear you’re imagining paints his cheeks even more. if only you knew his mutual panic, his mind scrambling on how to look cool but having the hardest time because how was he supposed to think straight when you were looking up at him with the most star struck look he’d ever seen. by the end of your months filming, the “i love yous” exchanged between your characters needed no acting behind them.
 kwon soonyoung
you’re filling in your free time by making money as a seat filler at award shows around south korea. your third gig is a kpop music awards show, which means you’re lucky enough to be paid to see talented groups perform and see idols receive awards live. currently, the lights on the stage are flashing bright hues of red and yellow as seventeen performs “hot”. to you, it was just another performance to watch until your eyes drift to a certain man who took center in the middle of the song and caught your attention since. you’re quick to notice how sharp yet fluid his dancing is, and for some reason you feel like you could watch him do it for hours. needless to say, you’re disappointed when seventeen wraps up their performance and disappears backstage. that is, until the thirteen empty seats next to you are suddenly filled five minutes later. you have the urge to pinch yourself in disbelief when the seat right next to you is filled by no other than the same cute guy you’d been eyeing during their performance. you look at his name tag that reads hoshi and debate on whether or not it would be awkward to strike conversation by congratulating him on his performance. but he makes the decision for you, and you wind up talking so much that you can’t help but feel a proud when seventeen wins the next award, and when he says his speech on the stage, he’s looking at you more than the actual award.
 jeon wonwoo
wonwoo and y/n. the biggest streamers on twitch, known to be side by side at the top of every leaderboard. the internet has a small theory that you two are definitely dating, but in truth, you two have never even seen one of each others streams before. when you are brought up for the fifth time in one of his streams, wonwoo finally gets curious enough to click on your channel after closing his stream. he might be going insane, but his heart definitely skipped a beat when he sees your little facecam at the top left corner of your latest stream. suddenly, he finds himself scrolling through all your social media accounts, something he’s never done to anyone before. let’s just say he’s a little more than excited when a message from you pops up on his screen, “so, when are we going to make those rumors true?”
 lee jihoon
going on a walk is jihoon’s favorite thing for getting lyrical inspiration, and today was no different. however, today he was having a particularly hard time gathering any words on his notes. that was until he suddenly heard a guitar in the distance. following the sounds, which he swears is one of the best melodies he’s heard, he stumbles across you sitting on a park bench strumming your guitar. there’s no tip hat laying around, meaning you’re not doing it for music, rather just for yourself. jihoon looks at you for a long while, a bit lost at the sight of you, then suddenly all those lost lyrics come running to the tip of his tongue, rushing to get out. there’s too much for his fingers and notes app to handle. you stop playing, and look up at him with a smile, beckoning him over and teasing him for staring. “i can see you staring, you know.”
 lee dokyeom
dokyeom wishes he could have a dog. so bad. but because of his idol life, he finds it unattainable. and he knows better than to adopt a dog that deserves better living conditions then that of his busy schedule. so to fill that empty gap, he visits the dog park every once in a while. today, he is instantly greeted by a dog running off its owner’s hand with its leash tagging behind it as it tangles itself all over him with a heap of excited jumps and licks. dokyeom is all the more happy to greet the dog with the same energy, petting its excited body. soon you, the owner, come running to him with apologies on behalf of your dog. even though he doesn’t really mind, you insist on helping him untangle himself. somewhere along the way the tension shifts and you turn your neck slightly to your faces are a little too close. suddenly, despite just meeting you, all dokyeom can think about is a life like this. you, him, and your dog.
 kim mingyu
mingyu has a talent for photography, and all his friends know that. when your camera broke, a scheming jeon wonwoo, your close friend, tells you that his best friend mingyu can help you out. you and mingyu are a bit skeptical when wonwoo sets you up in mingyu’s living room and ditches right after (“sorry, i forgot i have a date today.” since when did wonwoo, a lazy twitch streamer who hasn’t touched grass in a year, have a girlfriend? you wonder), but when you walk in with your broken camera, mingyu’s worries disappear. kicking him out of the fantasies that popped into his head when he first saw you, you head streat to work and show him your broken camera. he figures out that he has to look through some of your previous photos to get to the root of the problem. by some magic, he stumbles across a photo of you—which by the way was gorgeous and might’ve made him swoon for a bit—and finds himself in the background. he’s confused as to why you choke on your glass of water when he points it out with a smile, but little does he know that you’ve been looking for him, the cute guy in the background of your photo, for quite some time. no wonder he looked familiar.
 xu minghao
minghao tells his friends that he goes to the same cafe every morning simply because “their food is good!” but only he really knows it’s because of you, the pretty cashier. he refuses to actually talk to you though (out of nerves), and opts for drawing you in his notebook everyday. he’s content with that, because for some reason he finds that he could spend hours just watching you and perfecting every feature on your face onto the rough pages of his beloved sketchbook. today though, he decides it’s time to make a move. it starts off as a normal morning; he’s drawing a portrait of you that he plans to leave on the table with a note when he leaves. what he doesn’t notice is that from the counter, you’ve taken note of your crush’s recurring glances from the seat at the front windows. he’s so immersed in making your portrait that is isn’t until the next time he looks up that he realizes you’re missing. he panics for a second, thinking his plan all when down in shambles, until he turns around and sees you looking over his shoulder at the portrait, the biggest and prettiest smile on your lips as you tease him, ignoring the butterflies in your chest that emerge when you see how spot on and gorgeous the portrait is. is that pretty girl in the portrait really how he sees you?
 boo seungkwan
the day you decide to go on a solo karaoke date with yourself is coincidentally the same day the karaoke bar is absolutely booked. so much so that you aren’t able to get your own booth, but are offered to share one with another person. boo seungkwan, the sign up sheet says. you accept, figuring it can’t be that bad, and fortunately you happen to be right. you step into the booth and are surprised to see a cute guy singing his heart out to “love dive” by ive. he’s even jumping a little and moving his hands along to the choreography; you can tell he knows it by heart. it’s endearing to stand and watch him having the time of his life, microphone chord slamming against the marble floor. a laugh you can’t suppress averts his attention from you to the screen, his face going pink at the sight of you. in the same moment, the tv displays his score as a whopping 48 which makes the two of you burst into laughter. he blames it on not being able to pronounce the english lines, and eases you into the booth by inviting you to a duet to boost his score. somehow, his funny facade from earlier has faded, and his vocal talent comes to shine in the love song you sing together. the lyrics feel a bit too real when you make eye contact during the song that lasts a little more than it should, and neither of you are truly surprised when the final score is 100.
 vernon chwe
vernon is back in new york, and is admittedly a bit lost. listen, it’s been a while. he’ll admit he got a bit too confident, reassuring his friends he didn’t need a ride home, but halfway through the walk he wound up in a street he doesn’t recall and has no idea which way to go. it doesn’t help that his phone is dead. but by some twist of fate, vernon turns a corner and slams into someone else. truthfully, it’s your fault, because you’re glued to your phone, too confident in yourself to really be paying attention because you had grown up in new york and the walk home was basically instinct for your legs at this point. both of you are profusely apologizing to each other, checking upon each other if you were both alright. luckily, nothing was ruined in the collision. except, maybe vernon’s ability to focus, because upon seeing you, every concern he had five seconds ago had vanished. you can see the lost expression in his eyes, and are more than willing to help this attractive guy to find his way back home. and maybe even tag along for dinner at his house too, as a thank you and possibly also because vernon decided that the thirty minutes you spent together looking for his house wasn’t enough for him. in fact, he decided that night that only forever would be enough between him and you.
 lee chan
you’ve just debuted as a background dancer for hybe, and your first gig is for seventeen in their upcoming awards performances. due to your recent recruit and a complication between background dancers, the performances are tomorrow and you’ve only been able to start practicing today. you’re an incredible dancer, which everyone in the practice room picked up the moment you started dancing, but you can’t pick up the last part of the choreography from your lack of practice and its level of difficulty. the practice just ended, jun, and soonyoung being the last ones to leave. they look at you and the only other person in the room as if to ask if you were leaving, but he just shakes his head. the two leave, leaving you and the guy you recognize as chan, alone. he approaches you and offers to teach you the part he’s noticed you can’t get a hang of, because of course he’d been staring at you since the moment you walked in. the moment you start practicing together, in the solitude of the empty practice room, the time goes by faster than ever and suddenly learning this part of the dance doesn’t seem so difficult anymore. especially when your private tutor was cute and was looking at you like that through the mirror.
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one reblog = one stranger in your life that’ll turn into a lover
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