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w2mini · 3 days ago

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RED MEANS TAKEN DUMMY! atsumu x reader

-happy valentines 𓂃۶ৎ warnings: reader is reserved, swearings, black cat x golden retriever (I'm never getting tired of this trope for atsumu) fluff only

For Atsumu, he's always been drawn to you—the quiet, pretty muse from unfortunately another class who never seemed to fall for his popular charm. And what's worst is that you weren't even doing anything to catch his attention. It was just a random Tuesday when you were introduced as a new student in Inarizaki, then went on with your day as a normal student like everyone would—and that?

That drove him crazy.

It was probably your reserved nature that felt refreshing to him since he's used to having a crowd of admirers around him. You weren't trying to stand out, be loud—you just always seemed like you had your own little world to be content with.

And he desperately wants to be a part of your life. But let's be real—he's probably not the type to immediately accept his feelings about you because this is genuinely the first time he's falling for someone, so with some ups and downs, denial, and winning a war with his own feelings—yep, he wanted you BAD.

So little by little, he would hang out with you during breaks, keep you company, and slowly become a part of your inner circle—you grew fond of him in your own quiet way. So with Valentines coming up, Atsumu decides it would be the perfect time to confess his undying love for you.

But of course this is an Inarizaki centered story, and it's not one without chaos.

"Yo, have you guys seen the new post from the student council?" The volleyball club were currently in the gym practicing as usual every after school times. Akagi, who was simply scrolling at his phone during break ends up with an interesting post from their student council's social media page regarding the event tomorrow. "The color-coded shirts? still haven't decided what I'm gonna wear to be honest." Aran replied, approaching Akagi to look at his phone, checking what each color meant. To celebrate Valentines, the student council announces a color-coded Valentine's event wherein students wear shirts that indicate their relationship status: Red meant taken, White meant single, Pink means friend-zoned, Black meant heartbroken, etc. Atsumu, who was already plotting his confession, grinned to himself. White it is, because, obviously, he's saving himself for you. So could you just imagine on a Valentines day morning, he's all excited walking at the school, ready to show off in front of you, and sees you in the hallway—

... wearing a red top.

aka TAKEN.

his soul shatters at the sight.

I—what—When—WHO???? Osamu and Suna who was with him—seeing the devastated face on Atsumu bursts into laughter.

He turned to Osamu, aggressively whispering "WHEN THE HELL DID THIS HAPPEN???”

"She's taken? tough luck Miya." Suna says in between giggles.

You on the other hand who was just simply talking to a friend—doesn’t recognize the chaos happening behind you for wearing a red top.

“You never told me you were in a relationship?” Your friend offhandedly asks, but they were also internally panicking because they know about Atsumu’s plan.

You tilted your head in confusion, “huh? but I dont?”

“what? it’s red though.” your friend points at your top.

“so? don’t people wear red for valentines?”

You friend’s expression drops.

“[name] you dumbass.”

—

Atsumu spent the whole day sulking, even during practice. He messed up the easiest receives, screwed up his sets, and almost hit Suna on the head with his serve.

that damn red top, he’s never been this furious over a color, and what’s worst is that you looked good with that top too!

How come he had already lost without starting?

And how come he never knew you were already in a relationship? You never gave hints or said anything about being in a relationship—

“If I were you, I would’ve confessed already rather than sulking like that.” easier said than done Aran.

“She was wearing red, RED!” Atsumu dramatically exclaims as he drowns on his own sorrows.

“What did red mean again?” Ginjima asks.

“Taken.” Suna replied bluntly, making Atsumu hiss at the word.

“Never stood a chance huh?” Osamu grinned mockingly.

“SHUT YER TRAP SAMU.”

Kita could only facepalm at the situation, but he’s rather amused since this is the first time he’s seen Atsumu like this, “You know Atsumu, have you ever thought that maybe she just wore the color and discarding the meaning?”

Atsumu’s ears perked up, then Ginjima suddenly had a lightbulb over his head, “Oh yeahhh, it could mean like that too, there were a bunch of guys wearing black for fun earlier despite not being in a relationship.”

“Maybe try asking her about it then?” Akagi suggested.

I mean, it wouldn’t hurt to try.

Actually scrap that, it would.

That is until knocking was heard on the doors of the gym.

The team looks over to the source of the sound then sees—

You… with a small box.

“Uhm, pardon me but can I call for Atsumu?” You asked, peeking over to the doors.

Atsumu immediately RAN and was suddenly infront of you, looking… nervous?

“Did ya’ uh, need anything?” he asks, his voice crackling a little.

Then, you hold out the gift to him. “For you.”

Atsumu froze.

“Huh…?”

“Thanks for always keeping me company,” you say softly. “I know I’m not the easiest person to approach.”

Atsumu finally finds his voice. “Wait—so yer not datin’ anyone?”

You blink. “No, why?”

His brain short circuited. He points at your top, “But—THAT’S RED.”

“So?”

That’s when he realizes.

You didn’t know shit about the color-coded event.

His entire face lights up, and lets out the most dramatic sigh of relief. “Wearing red means taken stupid.” He says, flicking your forehead.

It was your turn to get struck by realization now.

No wonder everyone kept asking if you were in a relationship, and no WONDER everyone was wearing different colors for valentines.

Oh you feel fucking stupid.

You then immediately took your phone out, opening an app then searching for your school’s official account page.

You face drops seeing the png file on the very first post that appeared, no wonder why your friend had asked that odd question.

“I—didn’t know…” you muttered, embarrassed about the whole misunderstanding.

Atsumu only chuckled in response, laughing at your misery. “Yer’ killin me ya know that? I though I lost my chance before I even tried.”

You perked up. “You were trying?”

“Obviously.” He grinned.

You smiled warmly, feeling funny about the situation. “Try harder then.”

Atsumu had the brightest grin on his face, he ruffled your hair then gently took the gift from your hands. “Oh I definitely will.”

“P-D-A ALERT” Osamu suddenly shouted from the gym, surprising you and pissing off Atsumu.

“MIND YER OWN BUSINESS!”

WOOOO KINDA SHORT IM SO SORRY GUYS but happy valentines!! and of course I had to celebrate it by writing my all time favorite character😻 hope you guys enjoyed HDJHFODK

💐 >> bouquets for those who don’t feel special enough on this special day <33

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kaiyunsim · 3 days ago

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Off Script — chapter 13 : confession

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written section wc : 0.4k

jaehyun finds you alone in the dressing room, sitting on the couch with your phone in hand. you feel him before you see him, his presence heavy with hesitation.

“hey,” he says.

you glance up. “hey.”

a silence stretches between you, awkward and thick. jaehyun shifts his weight from foot to foot, running a hand through his hair like he’s trying to buy time.

“can we talk?” he asks.

you already know where this is going. you swallow. “yeah.”

jaehyun exhales, like he was half-expecting you to say no. “okay. uh—” he pauses, pressing his lips together. “i… i think i like you.”

your brain lags. did he just—

jaehyun must take your silence as a bad sign because he immediately starts rambling. “i mean—I do like you. not just think. i know. i mean, obviously, because i wouldn’t have said that if i didn’t. but, uh—” he lets out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “this isn’t how i planned on saying it. not that i had a plan. but if i did have one, it wouldn’t be… this.”

you’re still trying to catch up. “you… like me?”

he looks pained. “yeah. that’s... yeah. that’s what i was trying to say.”

you blink at him. your heart is racing. your thoughts are a tangled mess. you should say something. anything.

instead, the words that come out are:

“i think i’m having a stroke.”

jaehyun freezes. “what?”

you groan, burying your face in your hands. “i don’t know why i said that.”

there’s a beat of silence. then jaehyun lets out a soft, breathy laugh. “that—” he shakes his head. “that’s not exactly the reaction i was expecting.”

“i panicked,” you mutter.

he huffs another laugh, but then his expression sobers. “take your time,” he says, quieter now. “you don’t have to say anything right now. i just… i didn’t want to keep it in anymore.”

you look up at him. he looks nervous, but sincere. open in a way jaehyun rarely allows himself to be.

you inhale. “i need time.”

his shoulders relax, like he was bracing for something worse. “yeah,” he nods. “yeah, of course. take all the time you need.”

a silence settles between you again, but this time, it’s not as uncomfortable.

jaehyun clears his throat, shifting on his feet. “okay, well. i should—uh. go.”

“yeah,” you say, voice still a little dazed. “okay.”

you both nod at each other. neither of you move.

after a few more painfully awkward seconds, jaehyun finally turns and walks out, mumbling something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like i am never confessing to anyone ever again.

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a/n : sorry for using lots of written :( idk how i would do this as a smau so yeah

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coolemmasulivan2 · 10 hours ago

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A Beautiful Mess | 2

Pairing: Lando Norris

Summary: Two neighbors who can’t stand each other, until an accidental kiss changes everything.

Word count: 3125

You can read part 1 here

Do we need somebody Just to feel like we're alright? Is the only reason You're holding me tonight 'Cause we're scared to be lonely?

It had been a week since you last saw Lando. After his visit to the school, it was like he had vanished. You knew he was home because, as always, he made sure you knew that, but beyond that, there was no sign of him.

The touch of your lips has haunted you ever since. You cursed yourself, telling yourself that you should have pushed yourself away the moment your lips met, you shouldn't have frozen.

"You're not getting it! Our lips touched." You practically yelled at your sister over FaceTime. She burst out laughing. "It's not funny. I hate him."

"If you hate him so much, why are you this worked up?" She teased you.

You frowned. "Are you implying I felt something?"

She shrugged. "Did you?"

"NO!"

At the same time, Lando was telling Max, who was stuffing clothes into his suitcase, since he was going back to Lonon, what had happened.

"It was an accident, dude!" Max said, watching his friend with amusement. "Just forget about it."

"I can't forget it!" Lando groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Our lips touched, Max. I'm getting goosebumps just thinking about it."

Max snorted. "Sounds like you liked it."

Lando spun around. "Are you insane? I meant goosebumps in a bad way. Like… I feel sick."

"Yeah, sure." Max smirked, barely holding back laughter.

You downed the last sip of your coffee, grabbed your bag, and stepped out of your apartment. Today was going to be a good day. You could feel it.

You had woken up early, gone for a run, had breakfast, and still had time to stop by your favorite bakery at the end of the street. Everything felt perfectly in place.

For once, Lando Norris was the last thing on your mind. Or at least, he was supposed to be.

You stepped into the elevator, pressing the button for the ground floor, as you shifted your bag onto your shoulder, but then, just as the doors were sliding shut, a hand shot between them, forcing them open.

Your stomach dropped.

Lando locked eyes with you, before stepping inside. He didn't said anything and neither did you. The doors closed, sealing you both inside the small space. The building had a few years, so the elevator was not that spaceous.

He looked at his watch and run a hand through his curls. He looked like he was in a hurry.

Just five more floors.

Four.

Three.

Then... A jolt.

The elevator shuddered violently before coming to a stop. The lights flickered once, then settled into an unsettling dim glow.

You both froze. Then Lando sighed, pressing the emergency button. Nothing happened.

"You've got to be kidding me." Lando muttered, dragging a hand down his face. "Great. Just my luck." He let out a long sigh, pacing in the cramped space. If the elevator had felt small before, it felt suffocating now.

You, far too calm for his liking, pressed the emergency button a few times. "Can you stop moving?" You snapped, growing irritated.

"Oh, I'm sorry, am I bothering you?" His voice dripped with sarcasm.

You shot him a look. "Yes, actually. You've been bothering me for a while now. Thanks for finally noticing."

Lando scoffed. "Excuse me if I'm not as relaxed as you!"

You could see he was nervous. "If you keep panicking like that, you're going to run us out of oxygen."

His head snapped toward you, eyes wide. "What--?! Aren't you supposed to be a teacher? That's not how you tell someone to calm down!"

"You're not a kid, are you?"

Lando let out a fake chuckle. "Fuck. Why did I have to get stuck with you?"

You crossed your arms. "Trust me, I'm wondering the same thing."

He let out an amused breath, shaking his head. "Please! This is probably going to be the highlight of your day."

"You really think you’re that special? You're just an idiot, Norris." You said, crossing your arms over your chest.

Lando smirked, taking a deliberate step closer. "Well, then it seems we're not that different, princess."

"Don't you have anything better to do? Grow up, please. That pretty face of yours isn't going to get you out of everything forever."

"Oh..." He tilted his head, his smirk widening. "So you think I'm handsome?"

You exhaled sharply. "That's the only thing you got from what I said? You're impossible."

Somehow, the space between you had vanished. You weren't sure who had moved first, but suddenly, he was close. Closer than necessary.

Lando's gaze flickered down to your lips, as he licked his own. The air grew thick. The bickering stopped and he elevator fell into silence.

Your breath caught in your throat. Every logical thought screamed at you to move, push him away, to say something, but you didn't. Neither of you did.

Lando's hand twitched at his side like he was debating whether to reach for you. His chest rose and fell in deep, controlled breaths, but you could see it. He was just as caught in this moment as you were.

Then, just as his face leaned closer and your lips were about to touch, the elevator jerked back to life.

You stumbled slightly, as you immediately took a step back away from each other. He run a hand through his hair and you looked away from him. The air was thick, but neither of you acknowledged it.

The doors slid open and without hesitation, you stepped out, ignoring the concerned doorman who asked if you were okay. You didn't spare him, or Lando, a single glance as you strode out of the building.

Lando watched you go, jaw clenched, hands on his hips. He let out a breath and muttered under his breath: "What the fuck just happened?"

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Even surrounded by a classroom full of energetic kids, you couldn't shake the thoughts swirling in your head.

Why hadn't you pushed him away? Why hadn't you moved? Had you actually… wanted to kiss him? The questions run in your mind, each one making you more frustrated than the last.

By the time you got home, you felt exhausted, not physically, but mentally. You barely made it to the couch before grabbing your phone, dialing your friend number without hesitation.

"Let's go out tonight!" You blurted before she could even say hello.

A beat of silence. Then, suspicion. "Go out as in... clubbing?"

It had been a while. You weren't exactly the party animal type, so your sudden enthusiasm was unexpected.

"Yes!" You confirmed, already sitting up. "I need a distraction. Let's get dinner and then let's go out. Call the others."

"Okay, who are you and what have you done with my responsible and sensible friend?"

"Just be ready."

Determined to wipe the morning from your mind, you took a long shower, letting the heat ease the tension from your shoulders. Then, you dug through your closet, finding a dress you barely remembered owning: it was a red dress that hugged your body in all the right places. Paired with black heels that made your legs look like they belonged on a runway and a swipe of bold red lipstick. You felt powerful and it was just what you needed.

Lando leaned against the DJ booth, his drink on his hand as his friend, Martin Garrix, animatedly talked about his upcoming tour dates.

The club was packed, people moving to the heavy bass, neon lights flickering across the dance floor. It was the perfect place to blow off steam, to forget about the week.

Or at least, it was.

But the moment you walked in with your friends, all thoughts of relaxation evaporated.

Lando stiffened, nearly choking on his drink. "Oh, for fuck's sake."

"WHAT?" Martin shouted over the music.

Lando gestured toward the entrance. "Do you see that group that just walked in?"

Martin followed his gaze, spotting a group of friends laughing as they stepped into the club. "What about it?"

"The girl in the red dress. It's my neighbour!"

Martin's eyebrows shot up. "Wait... The neighbor? The one you kissed?"

Lando rolled his eyes. "We didn't kiss."

"Yet!" Martin smirked, clearly enjoying himself seeing Lando's annoyed face. He turned back to glance at you again. "She's beautiful."

Lando made a face, scoffing like the idea was ridiculous. "She's a nightmare, that's what she is." Martin chuckled, seeing right through him. "And she's a kindergarten teacher, bet it's gonna be real awkward for some parents to see their kid's sweet little teacher dressed like that."

Martin laughed, draping an arm over Lando's shoulder. "Dude, you're so jealous already."

"Shut up. What the hell are you talking about?"

"It's obvious!" Martin smirked. "You like her. And you hate that every guy in this club is about to spend their night looking at her. I can practically see smoke coming out of your ears, mate."

"Fuck off."

Your feet ached, but you didn't care. You were having the time of your life. Hours had passed in a blur of music, laughter, and drinks, and you and your friends hadn't left the dance floor for more than a few minutes at a time.

The alcohol had done its job: Lando hadn't crossed your mind all night. (Well, except maybe now. But that doesn't count.)

Leaning against the bar, you waited for your drink when a man approached you. Tall, broad shoulders, very handsome. And exactly your type.

He flashed you a smile. "Do you come here often?"

You blinked at him before bursting into laughter. "Oh my god. That pick-up line does not match your face."

He groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, that was terrible. I panicked."

You smirked. "I can tell."

"Not much of a flirt, I guess." He admitted, laughing along with you.

"Clearly."

He stuck out his hand. "I'm Eric, by the way."

You shook it, still grinning. "Y/n."

Lando leaned against the railing, beer in hand, eyes fixed on the bar. He told himself he was just people-watching, just casually scanning the room, but his gaze kept landing on you.

And the guy standing way too close to you.

The guy who looked like he'd stepped straight out of a fashion magazine. Tall, charming, and irritatingly good-looking. The kind of guy who knew exactly how to play his cards.

Lando took a sip of his beer, jaw tightening as he watched you laugh at something the guy said. You were drunk and from the way the guy leaned in, so was he. Too close. Way too close.

"You look like a creep." Martin shouted over the music, snapping Lando out of his glare. "Stop looking at her."

"I'm not looking at her."

Martin snorted. "Right. You're just analyzing the guy she's with." He nudged Lando's shoulder. "Worried she might take him home?"

Lando scoffed, tearing his eyes away. "I don't fucking care."

"Sure." Martin smirked, taking a sip of his drink. He didn't press further, letting his friend drown in jealousy.

You stumbled outside, the cool night air hitting your flushed skin like a slap. Eric followed closely behind, his hand steady on your back as he helped you sit down on a nearby bench as you waited for the cab.

"You're really nice, you know that?" You mumbled, tilting your head to look at him as he sat down beside you.

Eric smiled. "Thank God. I was worried I screwed up my chances with that terrible pickup line."

You laughed softly, resting your head against the cool metal of the bench. "You saved yourself."

"I'm glad!" He admitted, his voice warm. "I had a good time tonight."

"Me too." You sighed, your stomach swirling uncomfortably. You cleared your throat, barely above a whisper as the words slipped out. "I wish you were him."

Eric frowned. "Who?"

Before you could answer, a voice interrupted you. His voice.

"Y/n?" You and Eric both turned, and there he was. Lando. Hands in his pockets, his gaze locked onto you.

Eric's eyes widened in recognition. "Wow. Lando Norris?" He sounded excited, most likely a fan.

But you barely registered his reaction. Your stomach twisted again, and before you could stop it, you shot up from the bench, turned away from them both, and emptied your stomach onto the pavement.

Lando instinctively moved toward you, but Eric was faster. He was by your side, gathering your hair in his hands and rubbing slow circles on your back.

Lando clenched his jaw, watching the way Eric took care of you. It shouldn't bother him, but it did. The guy was too perfect. A walking green flag.

"Are you okay?" Eric asked gently. "Think you can stand?"

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, groaning as you nodded. Eric helped you to your feet, keeping you steady against his side. "Where's that damn cab?" Eric muttered under his breath, glancing around.

"I'll take her home," Lando said suddenly.

Eric turned to him, brows raised. "What?"

"We're neighbors. She's most likely going to pass out on the way back."

"Yeah, we drank quite a lot." He looked between you and Lando. "Y/n? You okay with that?"

"Hm?"

"Are you okay with going with Lando? Is he your neighbour?" He asked you, and Lando could almost hear himself rolling his eyes. The guy was seriously too nice.

"Yes!" You confirmed. Lando took a step forward and stretched his hands. You blinked up at him, your head heavy. "You're so annoying. Why are you always everywhere?" Despite your grumble, your hands slowly found his.

Eric's lips twitching into a sad smile. He gently let you go as Lando pulled you closer, steadying you against him.

"Thanks for taking care of her." Lando said.

"It was my pleasure." Eric replied, his gaze soft as he looked at you. "She's something special. And I just met her, so…"

You chuckled. "I like you, Eric."

He smiled. "I know, Y/n." Then his expression flickered, just for a second. "But I'm not him, right?"

Lando frowned, watching as you only groaned in response.

Eric let out a small breath before leaning in and pressing a kiss to your cheek. Lando's grip on you tightened.

"It was nice meeting you." Eric said. "Call me sometime, yeah?" He turned to Lando, extending a hand. "Big fan, man. Nice to meet you."

Lando shook it briefly. "Yeah. You too."

Eric gave you one last glance before walking off.

Lando glanced down at you, your body leaning heavily into his side. "Come on, let's get you home."

You hummed, already half-asleep. "Still annoying."

"Yeah, yeah."

Lando pulled into his parking spot, turning off the engine with a quiet sigh leaving his mouth. When he glanced to his right, he wasn't surprised to see you fast asleep, just like he'd predicted.

Your head rested against the window of his McLaren, your mouth slightly open, breaths slow and steady. One of his Quadrant hoodies was draped over you.

Lando exhaled, leaning back against the seat as he stared at you. He'd never really taken the time to look at you before, not like this. You looked… peaceful. And you were indeed a very beautiful woman.

His fingers moved on their own, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, tucking it gently behind your ear.

"What the hell am I doing?" Lando muttered to himself, running a hand down his face, he groaned under his breath. "I must be crazy."

Shaking off whatever the hell that was, he reached over and carefully pulled your head away from the window. Then, he stepped out of the car, circling around to your side and pulling the door open.

"Y/n?" He called, his voice quiet but firm as he nudged your arm. "Wake up. We're home."

"Hm?" You groaned, keeping your eyes firmly shut.

"Wake up. Come on."

He turned your face into the seat, snuggling deeper into the warmth. "Let me sleep!"

Lando huffed, crossing his arms as he glanced around the dimly lit garage. "If you don't wake up, I'm leaving you here." Nothing. "I cannot believe her." With a sigh, he leaned down, sliding one arm beneath your legs and the other behind your back. He hesitated for a second before carefully lifting you into his arms.

You instinctively curled into his chest, your face pressing against the crook of his neck, a small sigh leaving your lips. Lando froze for a split second, his heart racing in his chest.

Lando stepped into the elevator, shifting you slightly in his arms to press the button for his floor. You were still dead weight against him, your warm breath fanning against the side of his neck. He clenched his jaw, doing his best to ignore the way you seemed to fit perfectly against him.

When the doors opened, he carried you down the hall, stopping in front of your apartment.

"Alright, time to go home." He muttered, adjusting his grip. "Where's your key?" You mumbled something against his neck, your lips brushing against his skin. Then, before he could even react, you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. "Y/n." He tried again, shaking you gently. "Where's your key?"

Another muffled murmur. He sighed, dropping his head back against the door in frustration. Since you refused to answer him, and since he couldn't exactly rummage through your purse while holding you, he had no choice.

"Alright, you're coming with me." He muttered, carrying you across the hall to his own apartment.

He walked straight to his bedroom, gently lowering you onto his bed. As soon as your back hit the mattress, he exhaled, running a hand through his hair. But just as he moved, you reached out, your fingers curling into the fabric of his white shirt, right where it gaped open.

"Stay." You murmured, eyes still closed.

Lando froze. "You're drunk!" He reminded you, gently prying your fingers off him. You groaned but refused to let go, gripping his shirt again, this time tighter. His breath hitched as your fingertips brushed against his bare chest. "Y/n!"

"Lando!" You snuggled against the pillow, your grip unrelenting. "Stay." You whispered.

Lando clenched his jaw. He should go. He needed to go. But the way you held onto him, the way you looked so small and vulnerable in his bed… it made something twist inside his chest.

With a heavy sigh, he gave in. "Fine! But just until you fall asleep." He told himself that.

And yet, as he laid down beside you, feeling the warmth of your body so close to his, he had a sinking feeling that this was only going to make things a lot more complicated.

Tags:

@lilorose25 @downsideup1989 @anayaverse @ln4-cl16-world @chlmtfilms @444-leqz @joannaln4 @notarshia

#lando norris #formula 1 #lando norris x y/n #lando imagine #lando x reader #lando x you #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 imagine #ln4 #ln4 x reader

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n0vazsq · 3 days ago

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Valentine | JMM3 x Reader

pairing . . . pepe marti x blind!date!reader

summary . . . Your best friend, Gaby, set you up with a blind date and is forcing you to go. Little did you know, it was with your celebrity crush, Pepe

request . . . yes!! based on this request!

word count . . . N/A

warnings . . . none!

faceclaim . . . christina nadin

alexavia yaps . . . HAPPY VALENTINES GANGALANG!!!!! so sorry if its short or lacks content but i have my scholarship exam tmrw and i need to study!! i might write a oneshot later today but until now ill only post this!! each post is kind of a monthly update of their relationship up until valentines!!

yourusername

liked by gabyprentice_, christian.mansell, yourbsf and 2.1K others

yourusername it's still november and my best friend is forcing me to go on a blind date so i can get a valentine Tagged: gabyprentice_

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gabyprentice_ you should thank me

yourusername no?

gabyprentice_ you really will after you see him

christian.mansell trust me y/n you will

yourusername WHO IS HE

gabyprentice_ it's called a blind date for a reason

christian.mansell i can't wait to see your reaction when you see who it is

gabyprentice_ neither can i

username1 so prettyyy

username2 the breakfast looks so good

username3 let us know who he is

yourusername i will once i know who he is myself

username3 the suspense is killing me omgg

username4 praying for y/n bc blind dates never end well

username5 i just know christian and gaby made y/n's life a living hell with this date

username6 WHAT IF ITS PEPE

username7 WAIT IT COULD BE

username8 woah

username9 y/n please post more updating us about the mystery date

yourbsf who's that gorgeous lady

yourusername me

yourbsf you can't be this beautiful also send me your reaction when you see the blind date

yourusername wow okay SO YOU KNOW WHO HE IS TOO??

gabyprentice_ we told her

yourusername AND NOT ME?

yourbsf its a BLIND date

yourusername i will ram your head into the wall 😊

username10 you shoud update us every month until valentines so we can see the relationship progress

username11 yess omg pls do that y/n

username12 man i love you for this

yourusername ill think about it

username13 how can someone be so prettyyyy

username14 this blind date lucky asf bc anyone is BLESSED if they just get one look at y/n

username15 meow

username16 real

username17 screaming crying throwing up why coyldnt it be me

username18 this is pinterest aesthetic coded

username19 SO PRETTYYYYYYYY

username18 queen

username19 fr fr

username20 MY HEART CANT TAKE THIS SHIT I NEED TO KNOW WHO MYSTERY MAN IS

yourusername

liked by gabyprentice_, christian.mansell, yourbsf and 2.2K others

yourusername best dinner date i've ever had (i'm not talking about the food) Tagged: pepemartiofficial

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username21 EH???

username22 HER CELEBITY CRUSH LMFAO

username23 i feel like she wont be hating christian and gavby so much anymore

username24 HOW ARE THEY BOTH SO PRETTYYYY

username25 my kind of love frrr

username26 no.1 couple argument closed

username27 sigh i wish i was a wag

pepemartiofficial i'm glad you enjoyed it!

yourusername i had so much fun!! thank you for not leaving me when i panicked

pepemartiofficial maybe we can both have a redemption? next week?

yourusername i'd love that!

gabyprentice_ i'll text you each others numbers <3

yourusername we already exchanged them

username28 MR MARTI i was NOT aware of your game

username29 i live for these updates

username30 y/n me on my KNEES

username31 what id pay to be pepe

christian.mansell didn't go so bad, did it?

yourusername SHUT UP you could've matched us like way sooner

christian.mansell it was fun seeing you panic

yourusername SHUT UP

christian.mansell so violent and for what?

username32 OKAY OKAY I SEE THE VISION

username33 shes so pretty omgggg

username34 idk if i want to be y/n or pepe

username35 holy shit hes gorgeous

username36 came here for pepe stayed for y/n

yourbsf woah youre so hot

yourusername youre hotter

yourbsf nahhh youre way hotter

yourusername yk who is hotter than all of us

yourbsf oh god not again

yourusername i texted you the name 😈

yourbsf i was expecting it

christian.mansell 🏃🏃

yourbsf what are you running to...?

christian.mansell the y/n blind date plan gc

yourusername WHAT

yourusername add me i want to see what you three are saying about me

gabyprentice_ no way

yourusername come on guys i just want to see

yourbsf nuh uh

christian.mansell don't even try i'm saying no

yourusername sigh i deserve better friends

gabyprentice_ reminder that we set you up on this date

yourusername yeah yeah i said im grateful

yourbsf you better be

username37 man i love them

username38 HELP THE GC LORE IS INSANE

username39 did yourbsf just expose them or

username40 i feel like im intruding reading the comments between them

NEW NOTIFICATION: pepemartiofficial has started following you !

pepemartiofficial

liked by christian.mansell, yourusername, isackhadjar and 122K others

pepemartiofficial barcelona in december 🤍

click to view all comments

username41 A SOFT LAUNCH??? EH????

username42 THE PICS??? EXCLUSIVE SUBSCRIPTION??? EXCUSE ME???

username43 how is he so good looking

username44 the face card is INSANE

username45 I NEED THIS SO BADLY UGHHHHHHH

username46 STOP WHO IS THIS

username47 need a boyfriend like him

christian.mansell i see the soft launch vision

pepemartiofficial okay christian

sebasmontoya58 hes getting brave with it

christian.mansell yes he is

sebasmontoya58 our little boy is growing up 😭

pepemartiofficial 🤨

mariboya64 he probably forgot about us now

christian.mansell he wont hang out with us like he used to

sebasmontoya58 he'll be acting more mature

mariboya64 now he'll ditch us for dates like this

pepemartiofficial no

sebasmontoya58 another man fallen down along christian and me

mariboya64 okay sebastian

christian.mansell HELP

pepemartiofficial you know our girlfriends created a gc and are planning against us

sebasmontoya58 yeah i'm in it

christian.mansell WHAT??? i'm forcing gaby and y/n to let me join

username48 who tf is y/n

username49 idk maybe she's mari's gf??

username50 her insta is yourusername she's pepe's gf

username51 if my bf aint like this ion want him

yourbsf ill admit this is actually cute

pepemartiofficial thank you!!

yourusername we're not cute we're hot

yourbsf you're both tho

pepemartiofficial true

gabyprentice_ why'd you have to ruin such a beautiful and innocent moment

pepemartiofficial life

yourusername WORDS 🗣️ 💯🙏❗

username52 legit can't decide if i should cry or clap

username53 oh how i need this more than oxygen

username54 so um whens the wedding

username55 whens the hard launch more like

username56 y/n fans living the life we knew about this before all of you

username57 im sighing dreamily at these pictures

username58 THE PICS.

username59 giggling blushing and kicking my feet

username60 when will pepe post more y/n sigh

yourusername how are you so gorgeous

pepemartiofficial i should be asking YOU that

yourusername omg i'm blushing you flatter me

pepemartiofficial shouldn't be flattery if it's the truth

yourusername love youuuu

pepemartiofficial love you more

NEW NOTIFICATION: user171, user89, user514 and 102K others have started following you !

yourusername

liked by pepemartiofficial, gabyprentice_, christian.mansell and 102K others

yourusername january 2025 life updates: 1. me and the 6 foot skyscraper are still together, 2. i might have a chance at getting a valentine, 3. my gallery is full of pictures of pepe, 4. me, gaby, pepe and christian have went on 17 double dates in 2024 Tagged: pepemartiofficial

click to view all comments

username61 how to kms no borax no glue

username62 people DIED (i'm people)

username63 THE LOOK OF LOVE

username64 THE RUSH OF BLOOD

username65 THE SHES WITH ME IS THE GALLIC SHURG

username66 its not a want its a NEED

username67 17 double dates in two months is crazy

username68 i just KNOW their kids will be BEAUTIFUL

username69 face card never declined

username70 and never will

mariboya64 don't go stealing around our best friend like gaby did with christian

sebasmontoya58 i dislike wags always stealing our friends

yourusername im just the girlfriend 😔

gabyprentice_ me too 😔

littlefoxhermes i see

sebasmontoya58 no wait i'm sorry

pepemartiofficial haha

username72 Y/N FINALLY GOT THE VALENTINE SHE WANTED!!!!!

username73 y/n x gaby

username74 the otp fr

username75 the lack of pepe is concerning

username76 fr like WHERE IS HEEEEEE

pepemartiofficial add more photos of your beautiful face

yourusername i want to see YOUR beautiful race

pepemartiofficial running

username77 there he is

yourbsf please please please don't force me to get a date for valentines i promise i had nothing to do with you getting spray painted on the street on 17th may

yourusername sorry?

username78 SPRAY PAINTED???

username79 theyre more chaotic than we thought oh my god

username80 aww y/n looks so cute

chirstian.mansell is he giving a presenation

pepemartiofficial no i was describing my love for her

yourusername oh...😊 josep maria marti you make me blush

yourbsf pepe? what did we talk about?

pepemartiofficial im sorry pls dont kill me

yourbsf i wont just because you take photos of my beautful girl

yourusername i love you your/bsf/name

yourbsf love you too y/n

yourusername i love you so much pepe 🤍

pepemartiofficial love you more mi linda

yourusername

liked by pepemartiofficial, gabyprentice_, christian.mansell and 106K others

yourusername i blinked and suddenly i had a valentine Tagged: pepemartiofficial

click to view all comments

username81 deleting all my socials after this

username82 they are SOULMATES vro

username83 this screams 'forever and always'

username84 Y/N FINALLY GOT THE VALENTINE SHE WANTED AND DESERVED

username85 legit fairytale vibes

username86 imagine being this in love

gabyprentice_ to think this all started with a blind date

christian.mansell it's crazy

yourbsf and now they can't be seperated for more than 15 minutes

username87 LAUFEY!!!!!!!!

username88 i am JEALOUS, ENVIOUS, GREEN.

username89 i mean they were bound to meet sooner or later bc of christian being a mutual friend

username90 they ARE the main characters

username91 FRR like everyone else is just a side character

username92 alexa play 'that should be me' by justin bieber

yourbsf my girl finally got the valentine she deserved

yourusername all thanks to you, christian and gaby <33 love you guys smm

yourbsf np bby <33 love youuuu

gabyprentice_ we love you more!!

christian.mansell 🥹 y/n being mature for once

username93 HSHSHSH MY FAVVV SONG

username94 STOP I CANT WAIT TO SEE HER IN THE PADDOCK

username95 if they break up then love isnt real

gabyprentice_ you two deserve it! take care of my little sister pepe

yourusername GABYYYY STOP

pepemartiofficial will do

yourusername i love my life

pepemartiofficial and i love you

username96 i just know they are each other's ride or dies

username97 where to buy a pepe asking for a friend

username98 if i could id just take over one of their bodies to experience this love

username99 im waiting for the fics

username100 straight out of romeo and juliet

yourusername i love you so so so much 🤍 you are everything to me mr marti

pepemartiofficial youre my everything too, te amo más de lo que las palabras pueden decir (I love you more than words can say)

yourusername STOP IM GOING TO CRY 🫶🥹 I LOVE YOU SO SO SO MUCH

pepemartiofficial I LOVE YOU MORE THAN EVERYTHING MI LINDA

yourusername has posted a new story !

caption: best valentines date 🫶🤍 te amo mucho my love mi hermoso 🤍

click to view all messages

username101 HAPPY VALENTINESSS

username102 im screaming this is so romantic

username103 he could do so much better than you

username104 i wish i was a wag

username105 so prettyyyyy

pepemartiofficial i love you so much mi linda 🤍

yourusername i love so much more hermoso 🤍🤍

pepemartiofficial forever

yourusername and always

fin.

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaaa ,, @httpsdana ,, @hwalllllllelujah ,, @parkerloves ,, @paucubarsisimp ,, @justaf1girl ,, @awritingtree ,, @freyathehuntress (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

107 notes · View notes

taelophone · 1 day ago

Text

Red Rimac. Luigi Mangione x StreetRacer!Reader Vol. 1

trigger warnings ─ gambling . illegal street racing . reader is kind of mean . exclusion . "gang activty" but not really . 5k+ words . you shift POVs a lot .

StreetRacer!Reader. Moodboard. Other Parts.

Summer was a time to roam the streets from the early morning hours to the low and late strokes of night. Life was always better when it didn’t get dark until eight o’clock— at least if you didn’t have a job.

Spending hours upon hours hunched over a computer screen is not only bad for your tan, but also, the digital strain and binary brain rot tended to gnaw at the pink matter of most computer science majors' brains. Summer, in all her warm and floral glory, was a time for poor, sleepless, and programmed zombies to emerge from their cold and dark labs to enjoy some rare sunlight.

Luigi, in all his nerdy and left-brained glory, just so happened to align with the stereotype like the shimmering stars in their native sea of navy blue.

In the mornings, he lurched, his eyes hazy and unfocused as his pale knuckles clung to whatever life he had left in his soul. All-nighters soon turned to insomnia, the lack of rest stinging the whites of his eyes and attempting to force the windows to his soul shut every time he stood still for more than thirty seconds.

Life goes on, things grow and things change, and another day means another opportunity to improve himself and work towards bettering his arsenal of skills. Another day, another play.

He spent his morning getting ready for the day— going on an early morning run, sending around some emails, reading a couple of chapters of his newest addition to his near-crowded bookshelf, and listening to a couple of podcasts while he did the dishes. Just a slow morning to match the slow and steady hum of the urban neighborhood that rested just outside his front door.

Somewhere in the distant future, a slightly older Luigi is watching him right now from a memory that would feel vintage. Perhaps he's looking back and smiling proudly, admiring the dedication he had since the ripe age of twenty years old.

But when Luigi’s phone rang and Pico’s name projected itself on his screen in those thin white letters, future Luigi could only laugh and shake his head about the butterfly that fluttered into Luigi’s life, her white wings ready to create a life-altering butterfly effect.

“Yo, hey man, what's up?” He answered, pressing the speaker icon on the glassy screen.

“Yo, Pep, I found this underground racing thing slash car show. It’s supposed to have custom cars, cool bikes, helmets, slingshots, and a couple of Dylan’s classmates actually know one of the girls who’s racing today. We’re going at nine, do you want to come with us?” He asked, his staticky and slightly fuzzy voice blaring through Luigi’s phone speaker.

“Uhh, maybe? You said it’s like a car show? Isn’t street racing illegal?” Luigi asked, balancing his phone between his face and shoulder as he folded up the last components of his laundry.

“Please don't start asking questions,” Patrick sighed.

“Saying don’t ask questions when you’re asking me to go commit a crime with you is crazy,” he chuckled, his mouth coming up into a panicked smile as both of his brows furrowed with slight concern.

“It should be fine, I think…Dylan says they’re invite-only, so no snitches, plus they’re never held in the same area more than twice. It’s at a frat house an hour over, actually,” he explained.

“Pico, I don’t think this is very smart—“ Luigi began, the idea mulling over his mind again and again, juicing it dry of the sour taste it left on his tongue.

“Luigi, no offense – you don’t go outside. We need to have you outside this summer,” he snickered, and Luigi swore he could almost hear his brows rise and fall on the other line. “And let’s not pretend like you aren’t a jaywalking warrior.”

“Either they hit me and kill me, or I live. It’s a win-win situation,” Luigi chuckled, sucking in a deep breath of air as he thought about his decision carefully.

On one hand, he had a lot to lose in life. A scholarship, a good sense of moral ground, and a spot at a nice Ivy League university nestled right in the heart of the city he loved more than anything in the world.

Temptation is an evil temptress, and man has been known to fall for her tricks time and time again. Luigi was better than no man and found himself falling victim to her stirred cup of curiosity every once in a while.

He could be weak just once, he thought. After all, it seems like a fun one-time thing he likely won’t get to experience again, right?

“I think I’ll go actually…but I’m not driving, hell no,” he answered, punctuated by a small sarcastic chuckle at the end of his sentence.

“Type shit, type shit,” Patrick beamed, immediately texting Luigi his address again. “We’re gonna meet at my house, and then I’ll drive us.”

“Cool, thanks,” he nodded, listening to Patrick’s laggy and loud goodbye before they both hung up the phone.

Boop, boop, boop!

“Chris, can you get me a soda from the kitchen!?”

Your voice echoed through the hallway, bouncing off the empty walls and doing its best to maneuver through the loud vibration of Do What I Want by Lil Uzi Vert. When he didn’t respond, you huffed, adjusting your red and ivory varsity jacket before you waltzed down the hall a bit further from the bathroom.

“Chris!” You shouted, leaning over the black iron railing.

“Yeah?” He shouted back, immediately lifting his gaze from the living room couch.

“Can you get me a soda!?” You repeated.

“Absolutely not, get it yourself,” he beamed, adjusting the white rim of his red Chicago Bulls cap on his head.

“You’re evil, get out of my house…” You groaned, making your way back to the bathroom to continue finishing your makeup.

Tonight would mark your third race this summer, and your twenty-ninth in the past year. The month of June was always the slowest, but you were more than ready for things to kick off in early July.

You had been racing since just seventeen years old, ripping and tearing through streets at a pace no sane woman would ever see on their speedometer. At first, you were doing it for a rush, but it quickly became lucrative the more experience and speed you got.

Bets were made, donations flowed, crowds flocked, and cash was cashed the more you managed to claw your way through the asphalt. Your quiet and academic-driven life slowly began to sound like the inside of a crowded casino, slots clinking and money fluttering every time you stepped into the driver's seat.

You dabbed some highlighter on the tip of your nose, blending it out with the pad of your middle finger before looking over your outfit one more time. Red and ivory varsity jacket, low rise deep blue flares with large slits at the calves, a black tube top, and black Air Force Ones to tie everything together! Cute.

“When are Pink and Dhakiya coming?” You asked, making your way down the stairs to retrieve your black leather purse and a pair of glossy black browline glasses from the side table.

“Uhh…” Chris murmured, immediately flipping through his Snap to check his messages again. “Pink should be pulling up now, and ‘Kiya is gonna meet us there…she’s going with Dylan, and apparently he’s bringing some new bitches, so…” he chuckled, shaking his head in very obvious disapproval.

“You need to stop dropping addresses for him…he cannot keep his mouth closed, my fucking god…” you sighed, rolling your eyes as far as your sockets would allow before collapsing down onto the cotton fabric of your grey couch.

“Chill, Dylan’s fine. More people, more money…” he huffed, raising a brow at you before reading a text on his phone and snapping a pic of the corner of his bright green eye for a streak photo.

“Yeah, but he’s gonna get us fucking caught…” you huffed. “Who’s on lookout? Also, do we still have scanners?” You asked, flipping through your photo album titled ‘Firee’ and looking back on all the irresponsible memories you made in a car.

“Yeah. But we don’t need them anyway, we’re going to Bryce’s…playground, or whatever he calls it,” Chris nodded. “It’s good, you’ll like it. Big fucking villa, massive roads, and a big garage that can hold like thirty people.”

“That actually sounds nice,” you hummed, propping yourself up on your elbows to face Chris. “Who we driving? Pluto or Dashielle?”

“Dash, obviously,” Chris scoffed, half a chuckle lightening the end of his declaration.

He tossed the glossy, cherry-stained, and futuristic-looking key fob with your abundance of glimmery and glittery charms and keepsakes. Just as you pulled yourself off the couch, your bones cracking from slight exhaustion, the cherry oak front door came swinging open to reveal a tall and skinny young woman with a large curly black bun.

“Blitzen!! Baby!” She beamed, the golden grillz full of diamonds and spades on full display under the white fluorescent light of your living room.

You gasped, jumping up off the couch with a bright grin. “Pink!!”

You met her halfway, two steps away from the couch and two more away from the front door before you engulfed each other in a tight and wobbly hug. The woman wore a red tank top with little white bows on the spaghetti straps and the smallest low-rise jean shorts you could wear without being charged for public indecency.

Her slim stiletto heels clicked and clacked on the glossy dark hardwood floors, alerting the house to her presence as she frantically sipped the sweaty Coors Light in her hand.

“I’m so excited to be outside again!” She huffed, bending slightly at the knee as she pretended to lose her footing momentarily to signify how bored she had been this year. “Psychology was a mistake, Calnan has been killing me slowly, literally.”

“Girl…you don’t even wanna know what they’re putting me through,” you sighed, clipping your keys around your belt loop as Chris rose to his feet and stretched, his white wife beater riding up slightly.

“Alright, let’s go…the drive is like forty-five minutes, so we’ll get there at like six-twenty. You can do some donuts and show off the car,” he hummed, making his way out the front door.

You scrambled into your car as a group of three, kissing the hood of your red wheels before popping into the front seat and letting the icy breeze from the air conditioning fill the Cupid-red leather interior of your car. With Pink connected to the aux, the soles of the seats vibrated with the heavy bass and loud treble of some violent rap that prompted you into the afternoon distance.

Meanwhile, Luigi was cooped up in the passenger seat of a silver Chevrolet Camaro. The lyrics to Headlines by Drake filled the car, pressing against the glass as he scrolled on his phone to distract himself from the anxiety that rose the hairs on his arms and legs.

When they reached their destination, they saw a large Mediterranean-style home that was jam-packed with extremely extravagant cars— some were custom, built from the rims to the wings, some were customized beyond belief, and some were wrapped in various colors and textures of car wraps.

Emerging from the dim light in the back of Patrick’s car, he saw a sea of moving bodies that chatted and chirped as more seemed to nest in the bright garage. Everyone appeared to be nursing some sort of cold beverage, be it a Solo cup of mystery or a fresh can of carbonation with beads of condensation clinging to the tin.

“I’d rather not have my car get vandalized, so I’m gonna park across the street. Go in, Dylan should be somewhere in the house,” Patrick urged, a half-giddy smile on his face before he pulled his car off into the distance.

With Patrick gone, Luigi made his way up the stairs to the front porch, the sloped incline raising the greyscale home with black iron windows and ash-brown double front doors, slowly filling out more and more as he neared the front entrance.

His ears indulged in the music before his eyes took in the sight, the heavy vibration of Time Of Our Lives by Ne-Yo and Pitbull biting his ear with every word that Mr. Worldwide spent talking about his trials and tribulations. Now that he had a clear view of the front lawn and the side, his eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets as he saw the cars and women present.

A brunette with black roots in an all-American bikini top, the warm and humid sunset breeze kissing the freckles that ran up and down her arms as a man with a matte black helmet that had been scribbled on by many people across many timelines of his life. A McLaren 720S with bright pink glossy paint and heart-shaped rims that seemed to belong to a young lady not far from the cooler.

She, too, was dressed in all pink; from the cropped leather jacket with Hello Kitty patches all over the front, to the miniskirt that adorned her hips which undoubtedly made it impossible to bend more than fifty degrees. There were people everywhere, grillz in mouths that danced like flappers— flappers who complimented the heavy fur coats and exorbitant diamonds and gold.

If Luigi tried hard enough, he could almost match every person to a car. The flashier the vehicles, the brighter the bearer seemed to glimmer under the reddish summer sunlight.

He didn’t dare speak to any of them— not when he was dressed like an outcast with a bank balance in the negatives. By no means was Luigi poor, absolutely not— but he found himself a little timid as people walked by and looked him up and down.

He wasn’t intruding, but it was damn obvious nobody knew his face. In this new world, he had been forcibly thrown into by the eager whims of his best friend, real recognized real, and he was a very unwelcome face.

He felt like a fraud just being there. He decided it was best if he tore his eyes away from the beautiful machinery in favor of finding the actual person who permitted him to be here in the first place.

His feet carried him before his racing mind could, nearly tripping over the spilled beer cans that were hydrating the freshly mowed blades of grass. The front door was wide open— just enough to accommodate the big egos and even bigger wallets that flowed in and out of the archway.

His eyes scanned over the crowd, cherry-picking his favorite outfits of the evening as he wiggled through the hallway to the kitchen in pursuit of Dylan. There seemed to be a common theme amongst the young women in attendance— bikini tops that left very little to the imagination, or maybe the occasional tank top paired with some form of low-rise jeans.

Accessories clinked and twinkled, allowing him a moment to get familiar with what sound each person’s soul made when allowed a moment to express themselves. Dull, chunky sounds of maximalist resin bangles, sharp and starlike twinkles of gold and silver chains or necklaces, and heavy thunks of rubber soles on heels or sneakers against the hardwood floors.

He found Dylan in the west hall, a golden yellow smile on his teeth as he conversed with a brown-skinned woman wearing a red tube top with black leather split-hem pants.

“Yo, Luigi! You’re outside! For the first time in forever!” He cheered, greeting Luigi with a firm dap and an intimate side hug. “Glad to see you could make it! Where’s Pico?”

“Hey, man! Yeah, Pico said he’s gonna park across the street. So what’s going on, is this like, a party? What’s happening?” He asked, exchanging polite waves and upward nods with the woman next to Dylan.

“Hello…I’m Dhakiya,” she said, giving him a polite smile.

“Oh, yeah, this is Dhakiya, her friend is hosting today. Uhhh.., we’re waiting for Chris, Pink, and Red Rum to get here, then she’s gonna race against Half Moon…” Dylan said, the aliases rolling off his tongue and losing their way to Luigi’s brain as his brows furrowed.

“Who names their kid Pink…” he said, more of a statement than a question as he ignored the lingering stares from people who passed him by.

“Nah, her name’s not actually Pink, we just call her that…but they should—“ He began, the childish flower clips at the end of his two strand twists clinking together as he abruptly turned his head to face the sudden sound of a door slamming open.

“AYO! BLITZ IS OUTSIDE, ERR’BODY GET THE FUCK OUT!”

There was a flash of clamor, bodies all traveling in one direction as each person scrambled for a way out the door with large smiles and eager chatter.

He heard the sound of a loud engine revving, tires screeching and squealing in pain as they drifted and rubbed against the asphalt. A nasty, grim, and ghostly hood of smoke fizzled from underneath your tires.

A testament to your speed, darkened friction marks imprinted themselves on the road as you did donut after donut in the street. Patrick had found Luigi standing in shock at the top of the hill, watching as your red Rimac looped over and over in the wide road below.

Cheers and exclamations of excitement filled the air, limbs pushing and shoving as everyone clumped together to witness the speedy display. To Luigi’s surprise, a woman rolled down the passenger side window just to sit on the ledge and stick her tongue out in triumph.

She yelled, her nonsensical whoops of freedom piercing through the crowd and the now-hushed music before the glossy vehicle whipped into the large driveway.

Chris emerged from the back, and the woman in the window spun around to drop her feet on the floor with a bright, silver smile. Soon, a young woman with a red varsity jacket and low-rise jeans that hugged her up so good it restored his faith in flare jeans emerged from the driver's seat.

You emerged from your car, fanning your face free of the smoke that Chris had huffed and puffed in the back. A little bit of showing off never hurt anybody, and the crowd seemed to enjoy seeing the little figure eight of friction marks you left scorching on the road.

You smiled, watching as a familiar man with a golden grin approached you to give you daps and welcome you to Bryce’s old car workshop, or playground, as he referred to it.

“Welcome, welcome! Pep, Pico, c’mere!” He called, beckoning over two tall men in your direction.

One was much broader in the shoulders, his extremely casual monochrome Adidas hoodie adorning his trained and disciplined muscles. You definitely didn’t recognize the chocolate brown curls or the jet-black hair of the lean man with raccoon-like eyebags next to him.

“This is Patrick, and this is Luigi. They’re new…they’re my Phi-Psi brothers,” Dylan smiled, matching a name to a face as he wrapped an arm around either of their shoulders.

“I could tell, don’t worry…” you stated, raising your brows at their white cargo shorts and blue skinny jeans that didn’t scream usual crowd…or race etiquette. Stepping out of the house looking so casual was a choice— not a good one, but a choice nonetheless.

You gave them a half-nod, clutching at Pink’s hand as she joined you in looking the two men up and down.

“Hmm…well, have fun. You leave here, this didn’t happen,” you smiled, the ends of your lips forcing themselves upwards in a grin that lacked emotion in the eyes.

“Yeah, of course…I like your car,” Patrick said, eyeing up your wheels like a child spotting their first sugar fix of the day.

Candied apples, dripping with red syrup and glossed up by the sweet fading sunlight. You turned around, admiring the black wing and how low it sat on the asphalt before facing the men again.

“Thanks…” you murmured, nodding slowly before pushing your way past the three in pursuit of your opponent, Half Moon.

You found his car quite quickly, that gorgeous shade of blue-black, high wing, and as many illegal mods as he could cram into its internal organs without making a mechanic question his origins. Chevrolet Corvette Stingray— a beautiful hymn of words that purred like a well-fed kitten on the streets.

“Half Moon! What’s good, what’s good!” You squealed, eagerly jogging up to the man decorated with a matte black helmet complete with cat ears and a pitch-black visor.

He wasn’t wearing a shirt, only a stack of silver chains that clinked and clattered as he moved. A large moon spanned across his chest in its third quarter phase, along with one full sleeve of snakes and vines across his left arm.

His pants sagged so low you could see about twenty percent of his black Calvin Klein boxers, they poked out from underneath his black ripped jeans like a loud reminder of his careless demeanor.

“A’sup, Blitz,” he greeted, pulling you into a tight side hug and chuckling beneath the helmet. “Aye, no hard feelings, but we went like sixty to forty in the bets. I will gladly take the remaining forty people put on your car.”

”Hell nah, I’m taking all sixty home tonight. Bills to pay, tuition to fund…no hard feelings,” you snickered, furrowing your brows at his cocky and zealous statement.

“Sure…See I got respect for you, cuz you stayin’ in school, but don’t bet your future on no car…” he advised, tilting his obscured head at your ‘naïveté’.

“It’s not a bet if I know I’m gonna win, though…” you smiled, giving him a polite nod before retreating to your car with Pink.

Luigi, merely a bystander from the sidelines, watched as the man named Half Moon pulled his car around next to yours, aligning himself perfectly parallel with your candied automobile. His nerves seemed to climb by the second, despite not being involved in anything that was happening around him.

He watched as the crowd began to walk down to the road, letting you and Half Moon peel out of the driveway just as smoothly as the pair of you had pulled in. Some bystanders dragged with them some sort of chair to sit on, while some chose to stand and guzzle down whatever remained of their drink, and many clutched onto others as a man with two large trays walked around and collected fat stacks of money from each member who cared enough to bet.

With a roar of the ignition, each cold and clean-cut car seemed to spring to life on the spot. White and foggy smoke puffed from your exhaust, shots like bullets sputtering and sparking from each car’s rear as one brave woman stepped in front of both cars to set up the make-shift lighting system, something Chris had referred to in Luigi's ear as the “Christmas tree.”

His lungs had never felt fuller, and his eyes had never been so still in his life. He wasn’t exactly fond of your introduction to him, but he did have to admit your car was grabbing his attention more than he’d like to admit under these circumstances.

Each engine growled, your Rimac angry and hot like a dragon gearing up to bring fire to the front lawn. Loud, resentful, and eager to devour the purr of the quiet and kitten-like engine next to you.

If Luigi strained his ears enough, he could tell exactly what car was making what sound over the noise. Even the smoke that flowed from your vehicles was different, yours came out in a steady stream of cotton-like clouds that faded much quicker than Half Moon’s.

His heart pounded against his chest cavity, the blood rushing to his ears as his anxiety and anticipation forced his eyes forward on the cars in front of him. To say he was nervous was a criminal understatement— if at any moment the cops decided to show up, everyone was done for.

His thoughts only turned off when he saw a tall, almost hazardously skinny woman dressed in an all-white bikini and blue Moon Boots strut her way in front of the cars in a blue cropped fur hoodie that seemed to swallow her arms and head whole.

“Alright! Ladies and men, I wanna welcome you to Bryce’s playground! Three things before we get started: I need both drivers to check their seatbelts, and verify that their airbags are indeed in check! Make sure that your dash cam is on and that any potential passengers or guests are not recording at this very moment!” she announced, taking an old-fashioned pistol out of her fuzzy coat pocket.

“When you hear my pistol go off, that is your sign to make your way down from this very road down to that red barn we see in the distance!” She shouted, turning around to point at the run-down-looking barn that appeared to be no farther than about a mile. “And for my newcomers, if we have any with us tonight, we’d like to welcome you on behalf of my dear darling boyfriend, and point out that if this happens to get leaked and you decide to go tattling, we are very good at covering our tracks! That being said, BUCKLE THE FUCK UP!”

Blood rushed through your veins, adrenaline fogging your mind as your foot teased the gas oh so subtly. The car practically vibrated with the force of the engine, the turbos in your car’s guts forcing as much air in the combustion as physically possible.

She growled like a dragon, your little leather seats shaking in learned fear as you waved at Half Moon from the window on your right. You offered him a kind smile and a thumbs up before focusing on the long strip of road ahead of you, shooting up a silent prayer to any god that could protect your life as she had done many times before.

“On your mark!” Lucy said, her manicured finger teasing the trigger of her pistol with the most determined and nonchalant expression you’ve ever seen someone in her shoes don.

“Get set…”

Before you knew it, the Christmas tree flashed two green lights and the bullet had dispatched from its fiery chamber. The bang was loud enough to render the weakest of the pack deaf, weeding out the runts that found themselves hindered by their inability to recognize the call of two fanged predators ready to hunt.

Your foot slammed down on the gas, sending you flying forward as your car rapidly gained speed at an alarming rate. Two hundred and thirty miles per hour in just three point eighty-three seconds— your front wheels departed from the floor, the front of the car bearing the brunt of your speed as your opponent made a hearty attempt to close the distance that had built in such a short amount of time.

It was like watching the son of Satan chase after his father's red robes of fury; he was practically riding your ass with how close he was, but it wasn’t enough.

Pink screamed and giggled her head off, her heels kicked up on the dash as the air raided your windows and made quick work of sending your hair flying in every direction it was able. With this kind of speed and horsepower, the tightest of curls never even stood a chance.

The roar of the dragon was heard all the way back at the playground, her claws ripping up the asphalt as she flew forward in a manner that should defy the laws of physics. Her wings aided her escape as her tires came screeching at the barn, reaching her destination a mere two seconds earlier than the runt she left behind.

After the smoke cleared and the smell of scorched rubber dissipated from the air, you got out of your car to give Half Moon a firm handshake and a fist bump.

“Sorry. I’m too good at school to not be able to pay for it,” you smiled, watching as he flipped open his visor to reveal a slightly defeated but impressed smile.

“God damn, what are you feeding that thing? What mods you got?” He asked, walking around the front of your car to observe what rested under the hood.

“There’s a couple of E-turbos in there…she’s an electric engine, so I gotta treat her right,” you nodded. “You’re not gonna see ‘em under the hood though.”

“Smart girl…” he hummed, shutting the car hood with a nod. “How much was she? No way you get this while still in college…”

“Maybe two million…? But I bought it for much cheaper from a friend from school once I started getting my bread together. Chris, actually…he said he was making an investment, whatever that means,” you shrugged.

“Smart man,” he chuckled, climbing back into his car to make his way back to the playground. “I have no idea where you got the money, much less Chris’ dumbass, but I’m not gonna question it.”

“Thanks,” you nodded, returning to your front seat and giving celebratory hugs to Pink.

You clawed your way back up the hill, parking your car back in the driveway as you stepped out to the crowd thundering with cheers and celebrations. It seemed as though anyone who bet more than three dollars on Half Moon began to grow upset, groans and grunts of loss mingling in with the loud applause as you faced the orchestra of joy.

You stepped out with Pink, your tongue out in triumph as your hands motioned for more applause. If there was a time to boast and gloat, it was now or never.

You were young, rich, and played in the face of the almighty grim reaper on a day-to-day basis. Your earnings were served like cold ice cream after thrashing about in a heated jacuzzi.

The large and fat platter of cash was handed to you, featuring a couple of rings and necklaces that were offered up rather than cash that could be flipped for their value in gold. The celebration was short-lived in all its right, and you watched as the gaudily dressed individuals filed into their respective cars and hopped on bikes after retrieving photographic evidence of their whereabouts that they’d inevitably boast about on social media.

You had taken about fifty photos within the following ten minutes. Posing with girls in the tiniest bikinis, men in the darkest outfits that would be considered emo if they weren’t coupled with bright and flashy jewelry. Most people had left, and you were just left with Chris, Pink, Dylan, Dhakiya, and the riffraff Dylan had brought along.

“That was tough as shit, B! I see you! Dustin’ hoes in your lil’ candy car, okay!” Dylan praised, eagerly patting your shoulder as Dhakiya came over beside him with a fat joint between her fingers.

“Breaking Half’s streak is crazy,” she said, a bright smile on her face that contrasted her heavy lids that were pink from the Mary Jane.

“Thank you, thank you,” you smiled, giving high fives and hugs all around before Luigi and his friend came around.

“That was really cool…” Luigi murmured, child-like admiration woven in his tone while his brows shot up with shock.

“Thank you,” you smiled, nodding your head as Chris brought you over a cold pineapple Fanta.

He was new, and maybe you were being a little mean…his beady black doe eyes pulled at your heartstrings, plucking out of tune notes of empathy underneath your hardened demeanor. He was just looking for a good time, and it felt a little hypocritical to wave him off like a flea-bitten stray.

In a way, you could almost see your past self beyond the windows of his soul. Staring back at you with that same wonderstruck expression. It was hard to not offer small talk when he was just so cute…like a little dumb baby!

“I remember watching my first race,” you hummed, taking a deep swig from the aggressively carbonated drink that stung deep in your nostrils, but after being subjected to car hotboxes so sweltering that your eyes stung from the smoke, not much could affect your nasals.

“It was hell. The dude I bet on lost terribly. Then he crashed out and started yelling, but god damn those cars were sexy,” you chuckled.

You watched as Patrick began conversing with Chris and Dylan, exchanging numbers and information with Dhakiya before delving into a conversation about future car shows and any potential races coming up.

“Man, that’s rough…but you did really good! I thought your car was gonna flip backward at one point,” he chuckled. “How is your car even that fast…they said you got there in like sixteen seconds!”

“I can’t tell you,” you smiled. “It’s a secret…maybe if I see your face a couple more times I’ll tell you.”

“Oh, I see…” he beamed, his brows pinching together as he nodded down at you. “No respect for the new guy, I see.”

“Nope. You might be a fed,” you joked, pretending to pat him down for a wire.

“Absolutely not,” he laughed, shaking his head and watching as you counted your earnings from the large silver tray.

“That’s a lot of money…” he nearly whispered, watching as you counted blue-tinted hundred-dollar bills at the speed of light.

“What money?” You teased, raising a brow at him and pausing with your shuffling. “I didn’t earn any money. I got this from my safe at home…”

“Oh yeah, right, totally. I forgot, how ignorant of me,” He nodded.

“Yo! B, let’s go! Cops get wind, we’re all fucked. Don’t act brand new in front of your lil’ friend,” Dylan called.

You paused, giving the man a sly nod and a grin as you shoved all of the wads of money into your black purse.

“Maybe I’ll see you again, maybe I won’t. If I do, don’t show up like this again,” you beamed, gesturing at Luigi’s sandals and relatively generic outfit. “And wear red…it’s my color.”

“Sure…I can do that,” he chuckled.

“Now get, before Bryce rolls up and calls the cops on you.”

“Yes ma’am.”

You climbed back into your car, tossing your keys up front to Chris as you slumped in the back seat to take a hard-earned nap. Something in the atmosphere told you that you would see him again, whether it be at a new race or maybe at a local Trader Joe’s.

Wherever it was that you’d cross paths, you were sure you’d recognize those spiral curls of cocoa and his firm voice that trembled and fumbled when he spoke. And as you unzipped your purse to count your money, you let him fade into the back of your mind to become a distant memory until you’d have to put a name to his face once more.

#luigi mangione thoughts #luigi mangione x reader #luigi mangione x you #luigi mangione fanfiction #luigi mangione fanfic #luigi mangione x y/n #luigi mangione fluff #TAE-U’s #luigi mangione fic #luigi mangione x yn #Luigi mangione x StreetRacer!Reader #StreetRacer! Reader Tae-U

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locsandletters · 2 days ago

Text

ᯓ first of many; j.musiala

──one shot

pairing ➜ jamal x fem!reader

word count ➜ 1.7k

warnings/notes ➜ none

summary ➜ after years of just being friends, you and jamal are finally spending your first valentine’s day as a couple. naturally, nothing goes as planned. dating your best friend 101.

it starts the night before.

like, technically, it’s not valentine’s day yet, but jamal’s been on one all day, walking around like a little kid with a secret, smirking to himself, pursing his lips together like he’s dying to spill but won’t. he’s been weird about his phone, too. tilting it away from you. ignoring messages. biting back a grin every time it lights up.

“who you texting?” you ask, sprawled across his bed, watching him from the pillow.

“don’t worry about it,” he says, tucking his phone under his arm and flopping down beside you. he kisses your cheek—one of those lazy, half-missed kisses that lands more on your jaw than anything—but you’re still side-eyeing him, suspicious.

“you’re acting real sneaky, jamal.”

“am i?” he asks, grinning into your skin.

yes. he is. but whatever. you let it go. you don’t even think about it again until the next morning, when you wake up to the sound of something loud and chaotic crashing in his kitchen. it’s early. too early. the kind of early that makes your brain slow, like it’s loading in real-time, like you need at least 15 minutes to process.

there’s another crash. a curse. a chair scraping.

then, suspiciously: silence.

“… jamal?” your voice is all groggy and muffled, and it takes an embarrassing amount of effort to pry your eyes open. you reach across the bed, patting the empty space where he should be. it’s cold.

more silence. then, like a jump scare, his voice: “don’t come out here!”

what.

you blink at the ceiling, confused as hell, still groggy, trying to decide if you just hallucinated that. but no, the sound of drawers opening—slamming shut—confirms it.

“why?” you call, throat scratchy.

pause. like he wasn’t expecting a follow-up question. then, weakly: “just don’t.”

now, see. if he had just acted normal, maybe you would’ve left it alone. but he’s being weird. so you drag yourself up, rub your eyes, stumble toward the door.

“babe,” he calls, panicked. “i mean it.”

but it’s too late. you’re already there, stepping into the kitchen, and—

oh.

oh, it’s bad.

it looks like a crime scene. a breakfast massacre. there’s flour everywhere, like he was just throwing handfuls of it for fun. a whisk on the floor. a bowl of what looks like pancake batter, except it’s an objectively illegal colour. burnt toast. eggs that never made it to the pan.

jamal is standing in the middle of it all, barefoot, covered in flour, holding a plate with what can only be described as the saddest excuse for a pancake you’ve ever seen. and he looks… guilty. like a dog who just got caught eating the couch cushions.

“what the hell,” you say, staring.

“breakfast in bed,” he mutters, looking down at the plate in his hands, like he’s just now realising how bad it looks.

a pause.

“babe,” you say, trying so hard not to laugh.

“yeah,” he sighs, nodding. “i know.”

he sounds so resigned. so disappointed in himself. it’s actually kind of cute.

“what was the plan here?” you ask, stepping over a suspiciously large flour pile to get closer.

he groans, shoving the plate toward you. “pancakes.”

you take it. and it’s so heavy. like, heavier than a pancake should be. you poke it with your fork, and it barely moves.

“is it… supposed to feel like this?” you ask, laughing.

“don’t make me talk about it.”

he’s surprisingly genuinely embarrassed. ducking his head, rubbing at his jaw. and when you take a bite—because obviously, you have to—he’s watching you so closely. so serious.

and it’s awful. so, so awful.

but when you look up, his face is hopeful, expectant, and—ugh. you can’t ruin this for him.

so you chew, swallow, try your best not to gag. “it’s… wow. so unique.”

his whole face brightens. “yeah?”

“so creative.”

“i knew you’d like it,” he says, smug, taking the plate back. he grabs his own fork, ready to dig in.

“wait—”

too late. he takes a bite. and immediately spits it out.

“… oh, that’s fucking disgusting.”

you can’t even help it. you laugh at him. hunched over, wheezing, tears in your eyes. and he’s looking at the pancake like it personally wronged him.

“i don’t get it,” he says, looking genuinely betrayed. “i followed the recipe and everything.”

“be honest,” you say, wiping at your eyes, still laughing. “did you really?”

he hesitates. then, sheepishly: “no.”

and that sends you right back into a fit of giggles.

—

the rest of the day is just as chaotic.

there are roses. but too many. like, you turn around for one second, and suddenly, the entire apartment looks like a flower shop. then, out of nowhere, he pulls out matching t-shirts that say i love my girlfriend and i love my boyfriend in obnoxious, bold letters. insists you take pictures in them, which he very proudly posts on his close friends—alphonso is not shy to let you both know that he thinks that shit is cringe.

you later end up at some overpriced, aggressively romantic restaurant in the city, where everything is quite literally heart-shaped. you hate that you love it. jamal even gets you one of those giant stuffed bears that takes up half the car, just to be extra.

“where the hell am i gonna put this?” you ask, squished into the passenger seat, trying to push the bear off of you.

“our bed,” he says, like it’s obvious.

he’s joking. he has to be.

except, when you get back to his place, he throws it straight onto the bed and pats its head like a pet.

“what’s his name?” he asks.

you blink. “why does he need a name?”

jamal gives you a look. “he’s part of the family now, babe.”

you stare at him. he stares back. dead serious.

��… barry.”

“barry?” he repeats, making a face. “nah. try again.”

you roll your eyes, climbing onto the bed, throwing yourself against the pillows. “okay, fine. what about… reginald?”

jamal hums, considering. “reginald. reggie.” he nods, satisfied. “yeah. that’s hard.”

it’s not. but that’s how the bear becomes reggie.

it’s been a dumb, ridiculous, unserious day. and that dumb, ridiculous, unserious day stretches into an equally unserious night, because jamal isn’t done yet. of course he isn’t.

there’s dinner next. not an actual dinner, because you’re both still full from the aggressively heart-shaped meal earlier, but a ‘snack dinner,’ as he calls it. which just means eating a bunch of random shit in bed like kids at a sleepover.

“okay,” he says, serious as hell, setting the bag between you. “don’t look. just pick.”

you squint. “… pick what?”

he just raises a brow. motions to the bag.

you sigh, reaching in, grabbing the first thing your fingers touch. when you pull it out, it’s—oh. it’s one of those valentine’s candy hearts, the kind that taste like chalk.

you make a face. “oh, hell no.”

“no take-back,” he says, snatching the bag away before you can try again.

you sigh dramatically, flipping the little heart over in your hand. it says kiss me in faded pink letters. you show him.

jamal grins. “well,” he says, leaning in, all smug, all close, all warm. “you heard the candy.”

he’s such a loser. but, ugh. he’s cute, too. so you let him kiss you. and then another. and then one more, because why not.

after that, it’s movie time. jamal insists on watching something “romantic for the holiday.”

which, for some reason, means shrek 2.

“this is not a romance movie,” you say, staring at the tv.

“are you kidding?” he says, looking at you like you just disrespected his whole family. “it’s literally a love story.”

“… how?”

“shrek and fiona,” he says, like it’s obvious. “real love. no conditions. no standards. no judgment.” he gestures to the screen, suddenly so deeply invested in this conversation. “you don’t get it. she could’ve stayed a human. she could’ve left him, married some pretty boy, had a normal life. but she didn’t. she wanted her man. ogre and all.”

he leans back, shaking his head. “real love.”

you snort. “are you about to cry?”

“fuck off,” he mutters, shoving popcorn into his mouth.

—

the movie finishes. you think maybe, finally, he’s done being ridiculous for the night. maybe now, you can just curl up, relax, do regular couple things.

but then, he rolls over. stretches. looks at you. “we should make a fort.”

you blink. “what?”

“a fort,” he repeats. “like we used to do as kids. with pillows and blankets and shit.”

“jamal.”

“c’mon,” he says, sitting up. “you can’t tell me that doesn’t sound fun.”

it does. it really does. but you have to act unbothered for the sake of your pride.

“hmm,” you say, pretending to think. “i dunno.”

he narrows his eyes. “you’re lying.”

you are.

so, yeah. now you’re building a fort. or, more accurately, jamal is building a fort while you watch, offering absolutely zero help.

“you’re actually useless,” he says, balancing two pillows against a chair.

you shrug, popping another chocolate in your mouth. he mutters something under his breath.

you raise a brow. “what was that?”

“nothing,” he says, then turns to the fort, hands on his hips, nodding, pleased with himself. “done.”

and honestly? it’s actually good. like, he really put his whole heart into it. it’s got layers. multiple blankets. strategically placed pillows. fairy lights draped across the top.

he crawls in first, patting the space beside him. “c’mon.”

you sigh, all dramatic, but crawl in anyway. and, ugh. okay. it’s actually kind of perfect. warm. cozy. kind of romantic, in a way that doesn’t try too hard.

“happy?” you ask.

he hums, tilting his head against the pillow, looking at you. “yeah.”

and then, finally, you’re just there. under the blankets, wrapped up in each other, warm and full and tired in the best way. jamal’s fingers trace lazy circles into your skin, and you just breathe.

you sigh, content. “this was nice.”

“yeah?” he asks, voice soft.

“yeah,” you admit.

he’s quiet for a second. then: “you’re stuck with me now, you know.”

you smile, half-asleep, pressing your face into his chest. “i know.”

and that’s your first valentine’s day together. stupid. unserious. but somehow, perfect. just right.

#locsandletters #jamal musiala #jamal musiala x black reader #jamal musiala one shot #jamal musiala fanfic #jamal musiala fluff #jamal musiala x reader

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berfgrimm · 8 hours ago

Text

sharp dressed man | choi seunghyun (t.o.p) x reader

pairing: choi seunghyun (t.o.p) x f!reader

warnings: smut, oral, cheating, deepthroating, dirty talk, friends to lovers

note: this is a request that i promise started out as white haired Seunghyun. then i remembered this performance existed and i panicked. i’m so sorry but I hope you enjoy!!

———————

You have to know what Seunghyun tastes like. The thought is stuck in your brain like it’s a broken record, repeating over and over. You shouldn’t think about it. You’re both seeing other people, albeit very casually, and on top of that, you’ve been friends for years. Still, the loop plays in your head because of one stupid fucking gesture.

Your friends invited you to their performance on Inkigayo, and of course you accepted the invite; you loved to see them on stage, in their element. What you didn’t expect, however, was to watch Seunghyun grab a handful of his crotch mid-performance. A handful. The crowd screamed and you would have too if you didn’t feel like you were going to pass out.

But why? Who cares that Seunghyun grabbed himself? Why should it matter to you? If anyone asked it definitely didn’t matter to you, and you did not think about it for the rest of the evening. But now you find yourself alone in a dressing room with Seunghyun, and it’s the only thing on your mind. His bandmates had decided to get dinner after the performance, but Seunghyun stayed behind; you opted to stay with him, to see if you can will yourself to stop feeling like this. After twenty minutes of near silence, Seunghyun finally speaks.

“Are you okay?” he asks, and you look at him quickly. He has a look of genuine concern and it’s the first time you become aware of how you may be presenting yourself in that moment. Your body feels tense and your face tight, having been more focused on your thoughts than your appearance.

“Uh, yeah, I’m cool,” you reply, relaxing your shoulders and straightening out your back. “Sorry.”

“You’ve been acting strange all night,” he pushes. “You weren’t like this before the performance. Did you think that it was bad?”

“What? No, not at all!” You turn to face him, pulling one of your legs up onto the sofa with you. “I love watching you guys perform,” you continue. “I have no complaints.” The last part was a lie; if you were in the right state of mind, you’d tell him off for making you feel even a fraction of what you’re feeling right now.

“I can tell something is off about you,” he insists. “You can tell me anything, you know that.”

“I’m fine,” you say, with a smile. You realize that you have your hand resting on his thigh, and have no idea when you placed it there. “Fuck, sorry,” you say, retracting your hand as if it was on fire. “I shouldn’t have touched you.”

“Hey,” he laughs, turning to you and grabbing both of your shoulders. “Calm down. You look like you’re—”

You kiss him. Fuck, why did you kiss him? You pull away almost as quickly as you kiss him, and you can’t bring yourself to look in his eyes. You feel your heart pounding and your eyes water, panic setting it.

“Fuck, I am so fucking sorry, Seunghyun,” you say, shaking your head looking down at your lap. “I don’t…I don’t know why I did that. I mean, I know why, but I don’t know why I’m feeling this way. I have no idea what came over me. You were out there on stage and you touched yourself like that — I don’t know! I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Fuck, I’m sorry.” You ramble so much, you don’t give him the opportunity to say anything in response, but his hands still hold onto your shoulders.

“You…” Seunghyun begins to speak but he trails off for a moment, and you can hear him pull in a slow breath. “I touched myself on stage, so you kissed me?”

“I’m so sorry,” you repeat, your skin flushing and the weight of his hands now becoming unbearable. You shove his hands off of you and stand from the sofa, putting as much distance between the two of you as possible. “My mind started to just…wander,” you continue, pacing back and forth as you still refuse to look at him. “I don’t know why; I can’t explain it. I watched you touch yourself like that, and I wanted to know…what you would feel like, and what you would taste like. Fuck, I shouldn’t have said that. If I could not feel like this, I would. Trust me. I don’t like to feel out of control like this. Now, all I keep thinking is how I want you to talk dirty to me, like you could say whatever you want, I wouldn’t care. I need it to be nasty. I shouldn’t…fuck, I shouldn’t have said that either.”

You can’t stop yourself from rambling, not until you finally lay eyes on Seunghyun. He still sits on the sofa like he was before, his eyebrows furrowed — he’s confused. You pull in a deep breath, letting it out slowly to try to stop yourself from shaking, which is a new development. You’d hoped that if you said everything you were feeling out loud, then you’d realize how it sounded and could just get over it, but now it’s worse. You feel like you’re going insane, completely embarrassed; you have to get out of this room before you do something stupid.

“I’m going to leave,” you say, taking a few hurried steps towards the door, but you feel Seunghyun lean to catch your wrist, stopping you. When you look at him, for a moment, he looks as torn as you feel, his eyes studying your face for something but then his expression changes.

“Lock the door,” he instructs. “Then get on your knees.”

All of the blood feels like it rushes between your legs, and you could realistically pass out. You lock the door quickly and move around to the front of the sofa to kneel down in front of Seunghyun parted knees. You’d never noticed how slender his fingers are but now as his hands unfasten his belt, you can’t help but pay attention. He keeps his eyes on you as he unbuttons his pants and drags the zipper down, untucking his shirt in the process. Seunghyun pushes the waist of his pants down enough so slip his other hand inside of his briefs so he can wrap his fingers around himself.

“You know that I’ve been seeing someone,” he begins, pulling his hardening length from the confines of his tight pants. “But you don’t care about that? You don’t care that I’ve been sleeping with someone else, do you?” He’s not really asking, but is almost degrading you for wanting to blow someone who’s taken. It shouldn’t be hot, but you love how his voice sounds.

“I don’t know,” you mutter, your eyes trained on his hand that slowly strokes his cock.

“Haven’t you been sleeping with someone, too?” Seunghyun continues, the corner of his mouth pulling up into a small smirk. “Is he not taking care of you? Is that why you’re crawling to me like this?”

“I can’t…” You shake your head, unable to come up with any response that will be remotely reasonable.

“This is all you can think about?” Seunghyun nods his head towards his lap, and you immediately nod. Of course he smirks at your response — why wouldn't he be amused when you’re this pathetic?

Seunghyun keeps stroking over himself, making sure you keep your eyes on either his erection or his face. You can actually feel how wet you are and your first instinct is to touch yourself but that’s not really what you need. All you want is to feel him in your mouth, so maybe if you tell him that, along with some other stuff…

“Fuck, I can’t wait to taste it,” you mutter, and you swear you can see Seunghyun falter just a little, his hand stuttering in one of his strokes. That’s when he stops, beckoning you over with a crook of his fingers; you don’t think twice, inching forward until you’re between his spread knees. You need to get a better view, a better way to get a grip on him.

The tremble in your hands is noticeable as you reach towards the waist of his pants. Your fingers curl around the fabric near his hips, catching the elastic of his briefs as well and tugging; Seunghyun lifts his hips enough to help you pull the material down to his thighs.

You start with his balls, massaging them gently for a moment before you wrap your free hand around him, near the base so you’re able to angle him just a bit. You drag your tongue from the base all the way to the head of his cock, the tip of your tongue taking special care to tease the dip where his shaft meets his head. He sighs, spreading his knees just a little wider to welcome you in.

Your tongue swirls around the head of his member, before you spit over him carefully so you can get him slick. You stroke slowly at first, your hand enveloping every inch as your other hand sets on his thigh. You flick your tongue over him to get a taste of his precum and already you feel yourself desperate to go faster to get to taste even more. You take his tip into your mouth, sucking on his gently, your hand shifting to massage his balls softly again.

“Fuck,” Seunghyun mumbles, so quietly, you almost miss it. You lift your gaze to meet his, blinking as innocently as you can manage while you take him just a little deeper into your mouth. His gaze is unflinching, focused on the way his cock enters your lips.

Your hand moves higher now, wrapping around the base of his shaft again and slowly stroking to meet what you don’t take into your mouth. It feels so good to have him in your mouth, listening to the way his breathing changes as you quicken your pace just a little — so you whine.

“Is this turning you on that much?” Seunghyun asks, his hand cupping your jaw to lift your head up, causing him to drop from your mouth. Your hand picks up the slack, stroking him fully at the same pace but adding in a small twist with each pump. “You were moaning on my cock,” he says, his thumb rubbing over your lips. “You didn’t even realize it. You’re strung out on a little bit of precum, and you’re hungry for more, hm?”

“I love giving head,” you say, slightly breathless as you gently bite the tip of his thumb. He smirks, pressing his thumb between your lips and past your teeth; you keep your eyes on him as you suck softly on his thumb, all while you still stroke your hand over his length.

“I think you just love having something in your mouth,” Seunghyun suggests, and you grin around his thumb. He pulls the digit out of your lips with a pop, and you tease the head of his cock with your tongue, swirling it around slowly.

“The feeling of a big, hard cock shoved into my throat, making me choke on it,” you press, an animalistic feeling overtaking you. “It’s like a fucking gift. I feel like I’m being rewarded.” You notice the way Seunghyun’s thighs clench when you speak so you keep your eyes on him, slowing down the movement of your hand and instead leaving kisses nearer the head of his cock.

“Is that what you want right now?” he asks, voice low and raspy. “You want me to reward you?” It makes your mouth go dry, the lazy way he speaks, so you swallow hard, which you’re certain he notices.

“If you think I deserve it,” you respond, placing another kiss to the head of his cock, just to tease him. Seunghyun lets out a huff of breath, breaking eye contact when he closes his eyes.

You take the opportunity to slip him back into your mouth, taking him deeper this time. Your mouth begins to do most of the work, bobbing up and down so you can take him deeper into your mouth. Your hand strokes what you aren’t what you’re not prepared to take yet. Seunghyun lets out a small groan, slightly strangled like he’s trying to keep quiet. That’s not what you want; no, you have to hear what you’re doing to him, you need his moans.

Your hand on his thigh shifts between his legs, massaging him again, and you feel him fucking twitch in your mouth. It makes you moan and that does it; he starts to groan deeper in his chest, the sound coming through clearer this time.

“You love giving head, hm?” Seunghyun asks, his voice deeper now but shaky as he tries to stay composed. “Are you already wet just from having me in your mouth like this?”

“Mhm,” you hum around him, and his hips twitch involuntarily, shoving them upwards so he forces himself deeper into your mouth. When you gag around him, Seunghyun takes hold of your head, pulling your head back so he can peer into your eyes. “Fuck, don’t make me stop,” you plead, panting and desperate. “I was just getting to the good part.”

Seunghyun smirks at your words, and brings his hand to your jaw again, slipping his thumb between your lips and past your teeth. You take the hint and open your mouth for him, awaiting your next instruction.

“Wider,” he mutters, and you listen, feeling yourself get wetter from the tone of his voice alone. “Wider. If you want it deep, you’ll have to make room for it.”

God, why does that make you whimper? Was it even sexy, or are you that overwhelmed with desire? That’s for you to figure out later, because now you have to open your mouth as wide as you can for him, sticking your tongue out. Seunghyun places his hand on the back of your neck, near the base of your skull, urging your head down to his cock again.

You take him into your mouth, not quite all the way, but you hold him there for a moment, hollowing out your cheeks. You slowly pull back, applying the same amount of suction as you go until you only have his tip left.

“You were begging for it and now you’re teasing,” Seunghyun chuckles, breathlessly. You pull him out of your mouth and purse your lips to blow cool air over his tip just to watch how he reacts; his thighs tense and he lets out a huff of breath, giving you a warning glare.

As you move to take him into your mouth again, you notice a smirk on Seunghyun’s lips. You bob your head faster, taking him even deeper and deeper, your saliva dripping from your mouth and coating his cock. You didn’t realize that you were salivating like this for him, that you would be this pathetic when you finally got a taste, but right now, you don’t care.

When he starts to reach the back of your throat again, you moan in excitement, gently scraping your teeth over him just a little and he inhales sharply through clenched teeth. He grabs the back of your head, guiding you down to keep taking him all the way to the back of your throat. You gladly relax to be able to accept the intrusion he presents and take him over and over as you bob faster.

“F-fuck,” Seunghyun stutters, gripping your head firmer and pressing.

You take him deeper, the absolute most you can and fuck, you’ve never had anyone push your throat to the limit like this. You struggle to keep him there as long as you can, your gag reflex fighting against your efforts, but you grab his thighs, your fingers clenching as you struggle. Your eyes begin to water, feeling your limits begin to break, your gagging becoming more difficult to ignore.

“Jesus,” Seunghyun moans, still holding your head until finally you can’t take it anymore. You squeeze his thighs to signify for him to let you go, and he does, allowing you to sit up.

You cough, and swallow, trying to calm your reflexes but tears still trickle from your eyes. Seunghyun cups your face with both hands, tilting your head up so he can look into your eyes. He looks unlike you’ve ever seen him, overcome and desperate to find some semblance of composure. You breathe hard, trying to catch your breath but you get lost in his eyes for a moment, finding slow breaths even harder to reach.

“You’re sexy like this,” Seunghyun whispers, wiping some of the tears from your eyes. “On your knees, choking on me.” Your hand grasps his cock, stroking at the same pace as before, but you keep your eyes locked with Seunghyun’s, watching the way that he struggles to keep his gasps and moans quiet.

You sit up higher on your knees now, resting taking his hands and lacing your fingers together so you can pin his hands onto the sofa cushions. You open your mouth and flick your tongue over his tip for one more tease before you take him into your mouth again. This time, you go fast, using only your mouth and the motions of your head; you bob quickly, taking him all the way to the back of your throat each time.

You can tell he’s getting close. The way he can’t keep his legs still, his hips thrusting up to drive himself deeper into your mouth. His moans sound so fucking good, the sexiest noises you think you’ve ever heard. Your panties feel absolutely drenched, your nipples are fucking hard, your head spinning because, fuck, watching your friend fall apart like this for you is the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

“You want me…fuck, where do you want it?” Seunghyun asks, his voice tight. You don’t answer because you need to keep him in your mouth. “God, you want it down the back of your throat? You want to swallow it?”

You hum an affirmative around him, and his grip on your hands tightens so firmly it hurts. You have to pull one of your hands free so you can touch him again, massaging him to help encourage him along. You feel the way he throbs in your mouth and you salivate even more in anticipation.

You quickly pump your hand over him, still sucking on what you can as Seunghyun’s moans grow louder, deeper, vibrating through his hips and into your mouth. Until he moans your name amongst a string of expletives, as he finally comes. You can’t help but moan because he taste salty, and sweet, and so fucking good. You keep working over him, pumping everything you can from him and swallowing every drop.

“Fuck, oh, my god,” Seunghyun groans, when start to slow to a stop. You pull your mouth from him, licking your lips as you look up at him. His cheeks are red, his eyes struggling to stay open, his hands in his hair; this is the hottest he’s ever looked.

You lick your fingers clean of what you didn’t catch in your mouth, savoring the taste of him one more time. You can see Seunghyun’s eyes following your movements carefully, the quick rise and fall of his chest beneath his silky shirt not slowing down. You grin, using the edge of the sofa to support your weight as you stand on your shaky legs.

You try to play it cool but you can feel how aroused you are as you walk towards one of the makeup tables to grab some towels. You wipe your face dry, trying to think of an excuse to leave because now you’re thinking about the conversation that might happen. You aren’t ready to discuss things; you’d rather savor the moment as long as you can and maybe never speak about it again. You’re not sure, but until you figure it out, you know you want to keep the upper hand — if you could call it that after how pathetic you acted. You move back towards Seunghyun to toss a towel onto his chest, then pull your phone from your pocket to pretend to read a text.

“You should get cleaned up,” you say, looking at Seunghyun. “Wouldn’t want that girl you’re seeing to find you like this.” He looks surprised, his jaw slack as he tries to think of something to say in response, but nothing comes out. “Thanks, this was fun,” you say, slipping your phone into your pocket again. “I’ve got to meet up with someone.”

You cross to the exit, disengaging the lock and pulling the door open without sparing him another glance. As you make your way through the building in search of the exit, you try to think of what outcomes you could face. A part of you hopes that you got this feeling out of your system and you won’t have to talk about this with Seunghyun again. But another part of you makes up a dozen different scenarios of what could happen the next time you see your friend. Either way, you know your next move is back to your hotel room to take care of this ache between your thighs before you change your mind and run back to that dressing room with Seunghyun to beg him for help.

#choi seunghyun x reader #x reader #t.o.p x reader #x reader smut

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awardenandacrow · 13 hours ago

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You know what 18 is fun too. It’s “Rook tries to impress someone.” Or, in Naimy’s case, two someone’s.

@erin-unknown sorry for taking so long on this one, it’s been kicking around for a little bit in the brain but it was in a lot of little pieces so I wanted to have it a little more together before sharing. Still three pieces but that’s better than it was!

[snippet 47: at the Ossuary, Naimeryn tries for convince herself… and Neve, and Lucanis, that she is capable of leading the team and NOT a total screw up]

CW/TW: strong language, death by drowning, other violence

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“I’ve seen demons possess corpses. *Ashes.* even hair once.”

“At least this one has good taste,” Neve remarked with a smirk. Naimeryn did not succeed in suppressing a nervous giggle. That he did. She’d never been so grateful to see a Venatori guard in her life, to avoid whatever awkward exchange would have followed. Instead she ran forward, blasting Magic into the ground behind them, sending one flying *through* the Ossuary wall. She gasped and covered her mouth as she watched him drown. She spun back to Neve and Lucanis, eyes wide.

“*I didn’t know the enchantments were just — just —*” she waved her hands emphatically at Neve and then the wall.

“Not solid?” Neve asked with a quirk of her eyebrow.

“*Yes*!” Naimeryn snapped.

“Rook, *you* pointed out at the entrance that some of the walls were leaking.”

“Yes but I — I just thought — you know what?” Naimeryn rubbed her forehead and tried to still her panicking heartbeat. “Doesn’t matter what I thought. Let’s get the damn phylactery, kill this Calivan asshole, and get the fuck out of here.”

“I get that this is a rescue,” Lucanis smirked a little as they began walking again, “but you could leave a little for the rest of us, Rook.”

Naimeryn flushed at the remark. She felt like all she’d done was embarrass herself since she and Neve had arrived. But he seemed to… maybe think differently?

“Hey, Rook,” Neve said, falling into step beside her. “I can’t help but notice you rely pretty heavily on your staff attack.”

Naimeryn tightened her grip on the offending weapon. “Oh, uh, do I?”

“You *know* you do,” Neve frowned. “Are you more comfortable with your mageknife and orb? Why don’t you use them instead?”

“Oooooh, no,” Naimeryn laughed. “You do *not* want me brandishing this thing around.”

She patted it where it sat on her hip nervously. “This is mostly just for looks. I promise, I’m *way worse* at magic with this.”

“I didn’t say you were *bad* at ma— Rook, you’re about to—!”

Before Naimeryn could turn back away from Neve to look where she was going, she found herself tumbling down another slide made of sand. Blight and damnation, why would the Venatori build their prison in a ruin like this??? She skittered to a halt just before falling off yet another ledge. She started to sit up, then ducked to avoid a spell hurtled at her from the Venatori guards below.

“Hey!” She yelled down at them, throwing herself off the ledge and tossing magic of her own onto their heads to break her fall. All three screamed as the blast threw them all off the edges of the platform they’d been standing on.

“Serves you right for not even giving a girl a chance to get back on her feet,” she snapped to no one in particular.

“You can’t deny *that* was impressive,” she heard Lucanis say to Neve, and she flushed at the praise. No one had *ever* called her impressive before. At anything.

No, wait. Antoine had called her plan to save the village impressive. Why did this feel different?

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Neve replied drily, inspecting the ledge above for an easier way down to where Naimeryn stood.

“Oh, I’ve got you!” Naimeryn called up, waving her staff at a crumbled pile of what had once been a tall pillar. She floated the pieces over to Neve to create a suspended temporary staircase.

“Thank you,” Neve said, beginning to descend, “but I could have jumped.”

“I didn’t mean to imply I thought you couldn’t,” Naimeryn said nervously. Had she offended her? “It’s just, earlier when we had to, it seemed like it hurt? So I didn’t want you to have to do it again.”

“You really *are* sweet,” Neve chuckled.

“I just… uh…” *Damn it, Naimeryn, get it together.* Why did she have to be so awkward with Neve? All she’d done since they got to Antiva was make a fool of herself. “I’m used to just doing… practical stuff. To help out, you know? It’s just a… reflex. Um. Anyway.”

She was keenly aware of Lucanis studying her curiously. Just great. An amazingly talented, drop dead gorgeous, unbelievably smart mage she was growing to immensely look up to, and an incredibly attractive, clearly competent, used-to-taking-out-much-more-powerful-than-her mages, *man.* These were the people she was falling, stumbling, stammering, relying-on-her-basic-staff-attack in front of. Very confidence inspiring. Excellent leader material.

…

He was too strong. Even with Spite seemingly intent on helping, Lucanis couldn’t get close enough to Calivan to hit him. Any time Neve got close, he would blast her back and summon another demon to block her path. The Venatori guard grabbed her staff, and Naimeryn punched him in the nose, quickly bringing her attention back to Calivan. Maybe if she could do something to distract him, Lucanis could take his shot. She ducked under the sweep of another guard’s scythe, surveying the room for a second time.

Calivan’s desk was on a raised platform behind him, accessible by a curving staircase to either side. If she could drop down from above, pull his attention away from the other two… yes, that could work.

Naimeryn swung her staff, catching the guard she’d punched in the side of the head. He went down like a ton of bricks. The one with the scythe swung at her again, and she narrowly managed to parry, the blow sending vibrations up her arm. She planted her staff and pushed off the ground, swinging around it to plant both of her feet into his chest. He fell, and she sent a blast of magic from her hand into his face, rendering him unconscious as well. She leapt to her feet and ran, dodging ranged attacks from demons and wraiths, climbing the stairs two at a time. Just as she reached the top, she saw Calivan pivot, drawing closer to the side she was on. Rather than getting to his desk and jumping from there, Naimeryn readied her staff and leapt down towards him.

Calivan spun, a wicked smile cracking his face. He reached up and caught her, throat first, knocking the wind out of her and sending such pain through her spine as she was jarred to a stop that she saw stars.

“An incompetent mage,” Calivan sneered into her face as he pulled her in close, his fingers crushing her throat even as hers fought to loosen them. Out of the corner of her good eye, she could see Neve trying to get past the demon he’d summoned, fighting to get to her. “Zara will have *such* fun with *you.*”

“Nah,” Naimeryn wheezed, “I may be incompetent… but I’m *resourceful*.”

She quickly pulled her mage knife out of her belt and thrust it as hard as she could manage into his side. With a gasp, he dropped her, and they both crumpled to the ground. The demons he’d summoned disappeared. Naimeryn coughed and rubbed her neck as Lucanis stepped into her line of sight to stand over Calivan.

…

“I thought you said you didn’t know how to use this?” Lucanis asked, wrenching her mageknife free and wiping the blood on Calivan’s clothes for her.

“Not for *magical* things,” she said hoarsely, accepting it as he flipped the hilt towards her. “I know which end to stab people with; I’m not a *complete* idiot.”

“Maybe try convincing him of that when you haven’t just thrown yourself into close quarters with a powerful blood mage,” Neve shook her head. “That was reckless, Rook.”

“We needed an opening,” Naimeryn frowned. “I got us an opening.”

Neve gave her a hard look and curled two fingers under her chin, making her tilt her head back. She squirmed under the scrutiny.

“Really, I’ll be all right,” she insisted, giving Neve’s shoulder what she hoped was a reassuring squeeze. “I’ve faced down worse bullies than *him.*”

Yay! Either 11 or 18 for the prompts, if you like 😊

Ooooh I likey! 11: Rook is recognized for an accomplishment. This is off the cuff so forgive me if it’s a little rough!

——————————————————————————

“Rook will be making breakfast this morning!” Bellara beamed, giving a little hop of excitement. Naimeryn smiled nervously at the team, feeling absolutely foolish.

“So, eggs?” Harding smirked.

“*No*,” Naimeryn snapped, but Neve and Harding snickered.

“I’m missing something,” Taash crossed their arms over their chest.

“Rook does not cook,” Lucanis said gently, giving her an encouraging smile that made her heart do a summersault. “When I first arrived, the only thing she knew how to make was eggs. But Bellara has been teaching her some things.”

“Ah, excellent!” Emmrich clapped his hands together. “It is ever so important to always be open to learning new things!”

“I… don’t want anyone getting their hopes up too high,” Naimeryn said nervously. “Bellara is an excellent teacher, but I’m still learning.”

“If I die, I promise I’m going to haunt you,” Davrin said skeptically.

“I’ll withhold the poison then,” Lucanis said smoothly, “as I could not live with myself having subjected her to *that.*”

A chorus of laughter and Davrin’s good-natured protests filled the dining hall.

“Come on,” Bellara nudged her into the kitchen. You’ve got this!”

Under Bellara’s watchful eye, Naimeryn whisked and fried and flipped and sizzled. She was nervous — only Bellara had eaten her food thus far, and the thought of the whole team trying it was… admittedly terrifying. But the last batch had been pretty good, and bacon was much easier than she’d believed. She took a deep breath as she pulled the last pancakes off the griddle, and Bellara brought the syrup they’d bought in Arlathan to the table.

“Pancakes?!” She heard Neve cry immediately. “Did you actually teach her to make pancakes?”

“And bacon,” Naimeryn affirmed, turning to the table with a plate of each in her hands. “I made some crispier and some less so, so hopefully everyone has it how they like it.”

Naimeryn and Bellara served the rest of the team, then Naimeryn took her usual seat at the head of the table. Bellara, her plate in hand, gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze as she sat to her left.

“*Rook!*” Harding spoke first, her eyes wide.

“Is it okay?” Naimeryn asked nervously, twisting her hands in her lap. She thought she might be sick.

“I’ve never had pancakes before,” Taash said, “but these are really, really good!”

“Really?” Naimeryn perked.

“You done did good,” Davrin nodded, shoveling a whole pancake into his mouth in one bite. Naimeryn didn’t know whether to laugh or smack him.

“I’m proud of you, Rook,” Neve said, taking a bite of bacon and smirking at her. “Your hard work really has paid off.”

“Not burnt, or stuck, or the wrong consistency,” Lucanis smirked. “You’ve truly come a long way.”

Naimeryn’s face burned. “I’m no *you.*”

“So, ah, is this gonna be a regular thing?” Taash wanted to know, holding up their empty plate. “‘Cos I want more. Please.”

As everyone began to laugh again, Naimeryn brought Taash her plate. “I’ll make myself more,” she smiled at the Qunari. “Apparently I can do that, now.”

——————————————————————————

I hope you guys enjoy! Guess we’ll call this snippet… 33? ;)

#dragon age the veilguard #fanfic #dragon age rook #dragon age #dragon age the veilguard spoilers #rookanis #my rook #rook #original character #rook x lucanis #the ossuary #datv spoilers #Naimeryn Thorne #a warden and a crow #fanfic snippet #rook ask game #rook story time

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ventcode · 2 years ago

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#head still feels panicked. i feel so bad.

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tariah23 · 7 months ago

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Uhhh

Made sm progress on a comm In almost done (eggoy 🥺❤️❤️❤️) with it… also… I rly love this getou wip uhhh

#my art #I just need to clean it up #I need to zoom through my zine in so stressed out I’m glad I got my tablet working again I was panicking so badly earlier #I should still buy a new tablet soon #rambling #have a really bad tooth ache rn too #I’m still rly happy that the flu is… but I still feel so funny now #my stomach is killing me and my head hurts and I’m so fatigued all of the time I don’t be feeling good

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waheedawolf · 1 year ago

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#the day was going so well until my mom decided to be mean to me for no reason in a piblic space where i was already feeling scared and over #stimulated. i wanted to try out the skateboards in decathlon but there were too many people and i got scared. and my mom suddenly said that #the skateboard that she was going to buy for me after/on my birthday. she had decided to buy now. since we were alr in theshop and i said no #way bec i hadnt decided which one i wanted yet and i was soo panicked. and then after some time when id calmed down a bit and was gonna try #to skate anyways she started questioning me abt when i planned on peacticing and where i was gonna do it and i obviously just started saying #things that i thought she would approve of. and then she told me i didnt have the time management skills or resolve to make it work. and she #just kept on passive aggressively bullying me until i just couldnt do it anymore and i told her i wanted go leave the store bc she was #spoiling the mood. and then she started bullying me louder and she told me to stop blaming her bc she was only asking me a question and she #didn't want to waste any more money on things that i wasnt gonna do even though ive wanted a skateboard for years now and have been actively #asking her for months. and i just lost my emergy and my appetite and i wanted to leave the mall and go home but insteaf she gook us to a #bagel place that ive been trying to get her to take us even though i felt like throwing up before we even left the mall and i told her i #didnt want to go there. and my brother even told her that she was ruining things for everyone. and he still ended up blaming me in the end.#but whatever. i kept getting flashbacks to insanely traumatic moments where shed yelled at or bullied me or cornered me or tried to #embarass me in public. and this is most likely my last year at home. and my last year of childhood. and its all going to be remembered in my #brain as underwhelming and depressing and mostly horrible. and im going to leave home and never cone back and my last year at home is going #to be just as shitty as every other year and ill just have to deal with that and try to build something good and new and kind when i leave #she shouldnt speak to her own children like this. she shouldnt be looking for reasons to make things miserable for me all the time like this #i should study. my head hurts. my entire body hurts so bad #delete later

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inkskinned · 3 months ago

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you said you were stuck in a time loop, which was fine. i feel like late-stage capitalism has us all in a time loop, ammiright? you came barging in at 5:33. in the morning. i hadn't even processed the idea of coffee.

but you had this look of utter panic in your eyes. terror like the ocean. you grabbed my cheeks. im in a time loop.

i don't know why in movies the first reaction is to deny it. when someone is panicking like that, it's not appropriate to ask them to calm down. it didn't matter if i believed it, what mattered was that you believed it so much that it was consuming you.

so here we are. i pour you some of the dark roast. "you look like utter and entire hell," i say.

you push your fingers into your eyes. "you always say that."

i try to think of something funny to say that i wouldn't have said on previous time loops, but jokes don't land without the proper timing (lol). "remind me to think -"

"-yeah, of a joke that only works in the future. and before you say anything, i know you're pissed i just stole your punchline." you bolt the coffee, which is wild. it's very hot. you don't seem to notice.

i blow on mine to cool it down. i both am very pissed at you and also i can't see you in this amount of panic without wanting to help. but i'm also not really sure what we are, not since i saw you kiss her like that, no offense. it just was like, kind of rude when you knew i liked you.

and besides. i'm just like, barely a person. i write omegaverse fanfiction. i love the concept of a time loop, but what the fuck am i gonna do? send an alpha in there? i open my mouth.

you point at me. "you're about to ask why me. and then say some disparaging shit about yourself. i'm just a nerd who plays dnd or something. that self-own is slightly different each time." you sigh. "i know you think you can't really help me. i don't know who can help me. i only came to you because you fucking believe me." you check your watch, sigh, and throw your head back. you cover your eyes with one hand. "i've come here on 26 separate revolutions," you say. "you have believed me every time. and yeah, i have no idea how you fit into this but i just -" you sigh again. "i just like fucking talking to someone about it."

"do you need more cof-" i start, but you're already holding the empty cup out. i frown at it. "you're not getting any more until you promise not to bolt this one like an animal."

you laugh a little and sit up, pushing your hair out of your face. "okay, that's new dialogue. but to be fair to you, i'm not usually this rude. i'm still pretty new at all of this." you check your watch again. another sigh. i guess you're cruising for a personal best in the Sigh Olympics.

i almost tell you im not an NPC but i've played enough video games to know i'm very much an NPC. i pour you another cup. "so what happens in the loop?"

"really bad explosion." you mutter into the mug. you put your elbows on the table (rude) and bury your face in your arms like an angsty teenager. one hand floats up while you talk, because evidently you literally can't talk without your hands. "i have to save the day and there's this bomb and i have no bomb training and it keeps moving, you know."

"do i die?"

you peek up from your arms. "yeah. bigtime. you keep trying to run or stay or do anything and you always super die."

"oh."

"to be fair, like, everyone dies in it though.... so you're in good company."

i hate that you make me laugh. i hate that being around you always feels tingly and strange, this electric tension between us. something that is evidently (given how you stuck your tongue down a stranger's throat literally 3 days ago) (well. 3 for me) super one-sided. i take a sip of my coffee and close my eyes.

i die today, i guess. a little spark of panic starts at the top of my hands and starts whipping up my wrists.

"shit," you say. you look at your watch and jump to your feet. "i have to go. if i can come back, i will. i am still trying to figure out when is best to do everything, you know? the order of stuff. maybe morning isn't good for us."

i look up at you and think about how you keep kissing me in the back of my car and in alleyways and in the dark. and i can never fucking get a read on you. and i also think about how incredibly panicked you look. how broken. how long have you been doing this? "i don't want to die," i say.

you glance downwards. "well, you're not really dead, you'll come back in the loop."

"but i will have died." my hands are shaking. i am trying really hard to stay calm.

you push your hands through your hair again. "i really have to go. i will have this discussion with the next version of you, though. it is like, something i am thinking about."

"but i don't get a next version," i say. i don't really have the language for this, because i haven't had 26 tries with you. i only have my memories: you, a week ago. drunk and telling me you loved me in my ear. you, kissing her anyway. you, months ago, throwing up on my birthday, whispering to me i ruin everything i touch, always, over and over. please don't ask. i can't ever fucking have that be you.

i run my finger along the rim of the mug. "i don't want to die in this one."

you seem baffled by this. "i get that but - time will reset, you'll be fine, you won't even remember we talked about this."

"but i know now." i stand up too. "i have to live the rest of this day knowing i could die. knowing i probably am going to."

"you could always die, to be fair."

i feel my hands get out of control. "earlier, you said i always say a different insult about myself. what if you're just going through different parallel universes and those are all just different - but real - versions of myself? what if you're not in a time loop, you're in a fucking universe loop?"

"if it helps, i've wondered this too. also, you're hot in all of them. if that helps."

i point at you. "no flirting. i'm trying to figure out if i die today."

"who's flirting?" you catch my wild hands and give me that long, perfect smile. like we're in this together. "i won't let ya die." you check your watch and sigh again. "well. maybe not this time."

i grit my teeth. you are so not making quips at me while i try to explain the existential dread i'm having. "does the time loop reset if i fucking kill you?"

"honestly i don't know how long it continues after i die, because i just wake up. it could be that the loop goes until the explosion for everyone, and we're all in the loop, or it could be that when i die, the loop restarts. when i die i wake up, is all."

i pull away from you and stalk into the kitchen and start doing all 3 of my dishes. "okay, first, you know i was joking. and secondly, this is exactly my point. you don't know if this is just a parallel universe. maybe in the ones where you died, the explosion happened and nobody reset and it's just you travelling." i have to stop and push the heel of my palm into my eyeball. "... how often have you died?"

i look at you. you look at me. you give me this very sad, halfway smile and a little what can ya do shrug. something in that action seems so old and weary that i want to burst into tears.

"i have to go," you say. "really. for real. there's this family of five i save from getting into a car crash. and i know it's like oh but we're all gonna die in the explosion anyway, what's the point. and..." you shrug again. "it matters to me, is all. at least i saved them for now. at least i saved anything."

you pad over to me and wrap me in a tight hug. you always seem so tall against me. i feel your cheek rest against the top of my head for a moment. for a second, it's just us, and the space is warm, and my heart is a little broken hare.

you leave me there, and i stand in my stupid badly lit kitchen with my stupid mugs. i think about you. i start texting my mom that she needs to get out of the city, but it feels pointless.

i don't know what to do. tomorrow is the same day for you. but i have to prepare to die in my today.

#warm up #prose #i just realized that there's a horror film in there about being someone NOT in a loop.#if i wanted to make it longer i'd have them come back like SUPER battered and hellish.#on round like 999 #like halfway through lunch like - YOU . I LOVE U . IM SORRY . I RUINED IT BC I LOVE U CANT U SEE THAT #but like. yeah man what happens when someone else in control of ur destiny #what happens to all the versions of u that DO die...#i also wanted a pre-redemption time looper - this person #(who in my brain is they/them)#is absolutelyyyyyy toying with the narrator bc the time looper is caught up in like #an emo angsty '' i can't have what i want bc i ruin things'' self harm spiral #and like literally the way out of that spiral is to TRY bud.#but this is a person pre-redemption. still kind of an ass. still not really listening to her #still a little bit ignoring that they kissed someone 3 days ago #still KNOWS she likes them and DOES like her back. but is just too chickenshit still.#we're talkin that person we've ALL dated that's like ''i can't be with u anymore bc i am Too Broken and I Can't Stand Hurting U"#... i imagine they grow up tho. eventually.

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