#i put this in replies but decided this may help others too
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
the victim's totally effective solution ─ 809 words
you thought you could endure more sleepless nights, telling yourself that you're used to it─you still aren't. but you have discovered something to save you from your problem: mouth tape!
a sequel to prof nax's snoring problem
cr ─ @average-scara-fan for the idea
it's been a while since it happened, and you're back to square one─listening to your husband's snoring the entire night and ruining your sleep schedule. at this point you could be way more restless than anaxa even if he's the one working between the two of you.
you admit, after anaxa stopped the so-called rumors from spreading even more, from being known for it and standing alongside his unremarkable achievements, you felt lonely and even more irritated and restless.
you love your husband very much, and you knew it had to be done─but you absolutely cannot stand his snoring. it needs to be gone this instant, for the sake of your health and sanity. another problem is, how?
you were getting impatient. you tried thinking of every way possible but your tired self couldn't think straight and ended up sleeping while thinking of a solution.
you tried putting a pillow not directly on his face but just enough to reach his mouth─that didn't work. you were still hearing his loud snoring but muffled. you might just have to really get used to it now...
that was till a sweetheart saved your life─hyacine! she may have been the reason that those rumors happened, but it's not her fault that your dear husband sleeps like a beast roaring.
"miss [name]? are you alright? as much as i believe anaxa, i've been noticing that you seem so much more tired lately.." the word worried is splattered all over her face in bold and italics, have you even checked yourself in the mirror today before you went out? no, you were too tired to do so.
much like her, the word confused is splattered all over your face in bold and italics, "um, im not sure if you've seen your.. eyebags..?" hyacine points out. as much as she wants to believe anaxa, what else would have you end up like this none other than your husband, who you sleep beside with daily?
(yes, you could've slept without him beside you. but unlike you, he can't. and even if you do so, they're very loud, meaning you can still hear him.)
she steps closer to you and whispers, "i have this thing, i hope it helps you sleep!" hyacine hands you something you've never seen before and you stare at it with curiosity, but as the box clearly says─it's mouth tape.
you look up at the girl, "what is this for..? how do i use it?" hyacine smiles and whispers to you again, "it's to prevent professor anaxagoras from snoring so... loud? just put the tape on his mouth!"
you stare at the box of mouth tape hyacine gave you, and maybe, just maybe, your problems would finally be solved. you could finally sleep peacefully in your husband's embrace─with his dromas doll as well.
"anaxa, look what i found!" you exclaimed at your husband─sitting comfortably on the chair and reading something that's no doubt about knowledge, he turned to look at you holding out a box of something called 'mouth tape'. he raised his eyebrow in curiosity, "what exactly is that? is that your creative way of telling me to shut up? so bold coming from you."
with the many years you have been together─you've always known how sassy your husband can be. you furrow your eyebrows in annoyance, "it's to help you with your snoring anaxagoras, i've decided that i need more sleep and i don't want to walk around with huge eyebags!"
you have a habit of calling him by his full name to show you're mad at him. anaxa stays silent and stares at you and the box for a while. "oh, it's worse. although, i can clearly see what you're mad about" he replies while staring at your eyes.
he sighs deeply, closing the book and standing up from the chair stepping closer to you. "i apologize, beloved. i just don't seem to trust this solution of yours. how did you even get your hands on this.. mouth tape?"
"hyacine gave it to me, she said it could help!" you exclaimed at your husband who looks unconvinced, anaxa did go along with your solution since he couldn't bear seeing his spouse suffer because of him.
"so, how do i use this mouth tape?"
and this night, you are finally able to sleep properly. the sweet pink-haired girl works wonders─because now you are able to sleep with your dear husband in dromas pajamas wearing mouth tape cuddling you, also with his dromas doll between the two of you. his snores are only muffled, but tolerable than your previous solution.
a sweet and dreamy moment between a married couple every night, that's all you wished for─and it's slowly but surely coming true.
you think about your success as you drift to sleep in your husband anaxa's arms. you have never felt better.
#riyangiis#yura.writes !#honkai star rail#hsr#anaxa x reader#anaxa#anaxagoras#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader
110 notes
·
View notes
Text
A confession under the starry sky - Elderlily (Elder Faerie x White Lily)
I love them sm aoiabzhevzoquzfoha
Anyway have some fluff my pookies ______________________________________________________________
Another day has passed, the sun was already gone hours ago, letting the moon take its place. It was a beautiful night : no clouds to hide the stars and a full moon. The brightness of it was reflecting on the water of the small pound in the Faerie Kingdom.
A faerie was standing on the bridge of that small pound, watching the night sky. He rarely has the occasion to see such a scenery.
Elder Faerie couldn’t take his eyes off of the shiny stars. He always loved them, they were mysterious and captivating. The king saw them like guardians who watch over the world and its fate. The more he kept his gaze up there, the more he thought that nothing could make him look away.
-Your majesty ?
A soft and familiar voice called. At that moment, he realized he was wrong. There was a thing that could make him turn his gaze. After all, anyone would look away from something beautiful if it means looking at something even more beautiful.
Elder Faerie’s eyes leaved the starry sky to meet hers. -White Lily ? What are you doing at this hour of the night ?
He asked, quite curious and also surprised to see his friend.
-I couldn’t find sleep... So I thought of going for a walk. What about you ?
White Lily replied, walking to him so they could stand next to each other. She liked this place, it was calm and peaceful. The faerie knows that if she isn’t around, he’ll sure find her here.
-I was simply watching the stars. The sky is clear tonight and so we can see them perfectly.
Elder Faerie replied, watching her beauty.
The ancient hero surely had no idea of how often he thinks about her. He couldn’t stop seeing her in his wildest dreams or even imagine how her lips could feel against his... He knew he shouldn’t think like that but he couldn’t fight his own feelings.
-Yeah... I always liked to watch them. I didn’t expect you to have the same hobby as me.
White Lily approved with a gentle smile. She then looked up at the sky and putted her hands on the barrier of the bridge. The king simply nodded and gazed over the stars again.
They both stayed in a comfortable silence for a while. The silver haired man, who had his hands on the bridge’s barrier too, was hesitating to move them closer to hold hers. In the end, he didn’t and decided to speak again.
-May I ask you why you can’t sleep ?
The silence that came after wasn’t really as comfortable as before. White Lily didn’t know if telling him would be a good idea...she never told anyone about this. She looked down, avoiding any eye contact.
-I’m sorry. It’s probably too personal, you don’t have to tell me...
Great... Now she felt uncomfortable. Elder Faerie would have slapped himself right now if he could. What an idiot he was to think she would say something personal.
-Don’t apologize. I do want to tell you but... I just worry about what you could think...
She then said, her eyes meeting his again. The woman knew he won’t say anything bad so why being so scared ?
-I just... I miss my friends... I mean...it’s been a while that I miss them. But being here in the Faerie Kingdom makes me feeling less lonely than before. Of course, I do sometimes still feel a bit down like tonight.
She explained. It felt good to tell this to someone.
-I understand... Being away from loved ones is painful. But I’m glad that my kingdom can offer you comfort.
Elder Faerie said, his expression soft and caring. He cared about her deeply and didn’t want to see her feeling bad. He was also here to help her feeling better.
-Thank you, your majesty. You truly helped me remember who I am and I will forever be grateful. You also are one of the rare people who listen to me and understand me... I’m lucky to have met you.
Her words were coming from the heart, that was sure. White Lily took the king’s hands in hers, was it the first time they held hands ? Maybe but she wasn’t sure.
-White Lily...
The faerie’s heart skipped a beat when their fingers intertwined. He felt quite touched by her words. They both were facing each other, the moonlight shining on their face and the stars reflecting in their eyes. The atmosphere was worthy of a romantic film.
The white haired woman’s heart was fighting against her mind. She wanted to listen to her feelings but her reason was telling her not to... What should she do ???
-Sorry... Am I killing the mood ? I mean... You were just here to watch the stars after all...
-No, not at all. I’m glad you told me that. You’re not alone, Lily. There’s people who loves you, never forget that. I’m sure you’ll see your friends again soon.
White Lily blushed, she knew Elder Faerie was including himself in these people. He didn’t have to say it. Her expression was more peaceful, like she was relieved from some sort of weight. She moved a bit closer, her hands moving up to rest on his shoulders.
Everything happened quickly after. Their faces got closer, a tension clearly building up. They looked into each other’s eyes again and before they realized, there was no space between their lips anymore. It was a gentle and quick kiss but it meant a lot for both of them. The silver haired man thought it was a dream, even after the contact.
It was the loving look on the ancient hero and her words who made him realize that he wasn’t dreaming.
-And I love you. I love you more than anything else.
These words meant so much right now... Elder Faerie smiled back at her, his shocked look fading away.
-I love you too. You mean the world to me, White Lily.
They both were smiling like young teens in love but who cares. White Lily had confessed to the man she was in love with and he reciprocate her feelings. That was the first time someone loved her like this and she really liked that. Another kiss then came up, this time it was the faerie who initiated it. It was still gentle but this one was a little longer than the first one. The ancient hero wanted this moment to never end.
It was truly a perfect moment...them kissing under the stars, on this bridge, over the small pound...
And now Elder Faerie knew, her lips were sweet and almost tasted like honey.
#elderlily#faelily#elder faerie cookie#white lily cookie#cookie run kingdom#crk#fluff#fanfic#my fic#writing
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
So my first trick is to have a bevvy that excites you. A bevvy that is Fun and Colorful and Extra. Starbucks is good for fun bevvy, but it can also just be an ice water with cut up fruit if that is your vibe.
Second trick is Decorate Container. I have my emotional support water bottle that I have covered in fun stickers (mostly fandom related). If container is fun, then want to use container!
Last trick which is more for physical disability reasons but also good for the brain, is a waterbottle that is easy to use. One that is lightweight, easy to wash, and preferably clips to things for easy carrying. My prefered bottle is 1-lightweight and easy to bring up to my mouth even on bad joint days, 2-has a lid!! So it doesn't spill everywhere if it tips because I am clumsy, and 3- has a straw/nozzle so I can drink laying down. Is it basically an adult sippy cup? Absolutely, but for bad flare days when it is most important to hydrate this makes it so easy to drink without having to even lift my head if I'm exhausted. I can just lay in bed and mindlessly drink while I mindlessly scroll, and often find myself just emptying the whole bottle without even realizing it
May my water wisdom help hydrate the masses 🫡❤️
Fellow ADHDers, how do you stay adequately hydrated?
#fi talks#i put this in replies but decided this may help others too#also to anyone saying only water no fun bevvy i say no!!!#liquid is liquid man#is it best to drink water with your fun bevvy? yes#but if a fruity lil lemonade from starbies is all you can get in you#then its a thousand time better than not drinking at all#also: fun bevvy is fun#and with the everything of the world rn we could all use a lil treat#fun bonus tip-#if you just had surgery or something and you really need to hydrate but the right of drinking anything at all makes you want to throw up#jello#so much jello#always jello#or freezy pops!!!!!#those are the best in summer#diyem if you want#just pour some lemonade in a popsickle mold or somethin#hell yeah#tips#spoonie tips#disability tips#adhd tips
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
grapes and good fortune // ln4



pairing: lando norris X reader
word count: 4.7k
warnings: cursing and alcohol use
includes: friends to lovers, mutual pining, and fluff
summary: when your plan to find love on new year's eve doesn't work a certain someone may just fix those plans.
a/n: surprise! here's a cute little lando nye fic for you! it was so fun to write and i hope you all enjoy :)
masterlist
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
It’s not the end of the world to be single. You’ve gone your whole life technically being single– each guy you’ve had a thing with never resulted in a full fledged relationship. It never really seemed to bother you that much, you’d learned to be more independent and learned that your time is in fact more valuable than men think. Though, as the years passed and your friends started to get into serious relationships you couldn’t help but feel a little left behind.
You knew everyone’s time would come and seriously you were in your early to mid twenties – you still had a whole lifetime ahead of you. But the third wheeling you seemed to be a professional at by now was starting to get embarrassing. Also, holidays just really seemed to suck while being single. You knew there was more to life than being in a relationship, but god dammit you’re a human. You crave love and affection and no matter how independent you are– you still want to love and be loved.
Your friend group had unsuccessfully tried setting you up with more guys than you could count. Each one you really did try and give a chance, but there was nothing there. You didn’t think you had high standards by any means, but if you didn’t feel anything with these guys then why waste your time?
“You went on how many dates this month and none of them piqued your interest?” Your friend grills you as the two of you are sitting on the balcony of your apartment. You’d come back from another unsuccessful date and decided to drown your sorrows with a bottle of wine and a yapping session.
“Genuinely think there might be something wrong with me at this point.” You complain as you sip the sweet wine in your glass.
“There isn’t anything wrong with you.” The two dates a week for the past month say different, but you weren’t going to actually disclose that number to her. “Maybe your heart has already laid claim to someone else?”
“I think I would know if I was in love with someone.” She doesn’t say anything, but the way she inconspicuously sips her wine is telling you what she’s wanting to say. “Not this again.”
She puts her hands up in defense all while having a shit eating grin on her face. “I didn’t even say anything, but you immediately assuming that’s who I’m talking about says it all.”
“I’m not in love with Lando.”
Yes you were.
“I mean he’s one of my closest friends and it would just make things weird. He also for sure does not look at me in any way other than platonic. He’s got models flocking to him and literally thousands of other girls– I couldn’t compete.” Your friend remains silent once again as she sips her wine and watches the scene in front of her unfold. “Ok– just because I drunkenly admitted last year that I might possibly have a little tiny miniscule amount of feelings towards him does not mean I’m in love with him.”
“Yes it does.” Your friend replies without missing a beat.
“No it doesn’t” You say with a huff.
“Y/N, babe. You don’t see what everyone else sees and maybe your brain is trying to protect itself from the small chance of destruction, but you two are so in love it’s actually ridiculous.”
“I don’t think he’s looking for a relationship right now. If this season so far is any indication of what next season is gonna be like, do you really think he’ll want a serious relationship to juggle too?” You’d chugged the last bit of wine in your glass and immediately filled it back up.
A loud scoff comes from your friend. “With some girl he just met? No. You are a whole different story though. You two have history and are quite literally each other’s person. Two peas in a pod. Match made in heaven.”
You didn’t understand why your friend was so adamant about Lando and you getting together. What if it ended in flames and your friend group is stuck having to play children of divorce? You don’t want that.
“Do you hear yourself right now? I think you’ve had too much wine because that’s not true.”
She sits up on the edge of the wicker couch with an annoyed expression painted across her face “Do you hear yourself? I’ve never seen someone deny themselves happiness like you.”
“I don’t think I have actual feelings for Lando though. I really think it’s just because we are the only two single people in our friend group and it’s like I feel obligated to somehow have feelings for him. I just need to find the right person and whatever I may be feeling about Lando will go away.”
If someone could professionally roll their eyes your friend would be a pro. “You’ve already found the right person though!”
Before you can argue back for the hundredth time tonight the familiar tune of an incoming facetime call fills the air. Your phone that’s sitting on the glass coffee table lights up and Lando’s face fills the screen. You glance over at your friend who’s got a smirk on her face that could rival the Cheshire Cat.
“Speak of the devil.” She laughs.
You let it ring, fully knowing that if you answer it your friend will be insufferable the whole time you’re talking to him. You do send him a quick text to make sure everything's alright and of course he immediately responds with-
everything's all right.. just missed you is all.
Which has you locking your phone and stuffing it in the pocket of your hoodie. When you reach for your glass and realize it’s empty again you decide to just grab the bottle and drink straight from it.
“Drinking from the bottle because you’ve come to terms with how dumb you’ve been?” Your friend teases.
“Nope. It’s from having to deal with you all evening.”
Alright so maybe you did have actual feelings for Lando, but you were never going to fully admit that to your friend or anyone else for that matter. You didn’t want to risk ruining what you two already had, which was an amazing friendship. So for the following months you continue to go on an endless amount of dates and with each one that fails your friend's voice rings in your mind.
Maybe you wouldn’t be able to find someone else if you subconsciously compared every guy to Lando. They were never funny enough or charming enough or took themselves too seriously. In the end it was simply the fact that they weren’t Lando. So maybe your heart had already dug its claws into Lando, but you weren’t going to give up without one last battle.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
New Year's Eve. The final night of the year and the one party of the year that celebrates ends and beginnings. You’d hoped that with the plan you had for tonight that your streak of horrible dates would end and the next one would be the one. The trend of eating twelve grapes under a table at midnight on New Year’s Eve had been all over your social media. According to the internet if you were to do this you’d find love or your soulmate the following year– which was something you were so desperate for. So, your said plan was to bring some grapes with you and find a table to sit under.
As you were taking one last final look in the mirror a familiar British accent echoed through your apartment. “Are you almost ready?”
You quickly slipped on your heels and grabbed your bag off the dresser, but by the time you turned around there stood Lando, leaning against your doorframe with a slight smirk on his face. “Been waiting forever. It’s gonna be next year by the time we get out of here.”
His teasing, which usually always got a reaction out of you, was ignored. The sight of him had you frozen in your tracks for a moment. He had on a white button up, which he always looked good in, but it was the couple of undone buttons at the top and the necklace you got him for his birthday last year around his neck that got your attention. There was always something about seeing Lando in things you got him that made that funny feeling bloom in your stomach. Perhaps it was the fact that everytime he chose to wear them you knew he was thinking about you and that when he was away a part of you was always with him.
“Quit staring.”
You're knocked out of your trance and the blush that creeps onto your cheeks from getting caught is almost as embarrassing as being caught. “I wasn’t staring. I was admiring my good taste. Should have gotten one myself.” You try to play it off and push your way past him with what little amount of confidence you have at the moment.
“I’ll get it for you, then we can be matching.” Lando says as he follows behind you.
“I can buy it myself.”
“Yeah, but I’m still gonna get it for you anyways.”
You stop in the kitchen and grab the little bag of grapes out of the fridge. “I don’t need you to get it for me Lan.” You’re too preoccupied with figuring out how to fit everything into your small purse to see the utterly confused look on Lando’s face.
“Ok forget about the necklace. Why the hell are you bringing grapes with you?”
“Incase I get hungry.” You reply without missing a beat.
“There will literally be food at the party. I even made sure Max got those little cocktail sausages you like.”
And there he goes again, making those feelings you’ve tried and are still presently trying to push down come to the surface all because of some damn cocktail sausages. “I appreciate that Lan, but I’ve been on a grape kick lately. Just can’t seem to get enough of them.”
With your purse finally closed with the grapes securely inside, you head towards the door, more than ready to get to the party.
“I’ll text Max and tell him to get some grapes delivered.” Lando mumbles as he closes the door behind him.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
You’d never considered yourself much of a party girl, but there must have been something in the air tonight because you were living it up. From the dancing to the drinking and then to top it off somehow in the middle of everything you showed off your DJing skills with Lando.
Somehow you’d managed to unglue yourself from Lando for a moment and ended up in the kitchen among the various kinds of alcohol. You’re pouring the last bit of coke into your coke and malibu when Max comes up beside you.
“I see you finally escaped from Lando for a moment.”
An airy laugh emits from you. “Yeah, he’s been a little clingy tonight.” You state as you turn and lean back against the counter, facing the large crowd of people.
Max copies your actions, but not before grabbing a beer. “What are you talking about tonight? When he’s back home it’s like you two are conjoined at the hip.” Which was true, but you didn’t get to see Lando as much as you’d like, so you make the most of what you can. “Oh forgot to tell you, your grapes are in the fridge.” He motions towards the stainless steel appliance with his beer bottle. “Lando better pay me back. Do you know how much I paid to get that damn bag delivered? Absolutely insane.”
Your mouth forms an ‘O’ shape at Max’s words. “I heard him mention something about asking you to get some when we were leaving. I thought he was just joking.”
Max scoffs. “There is no such thing as Lando joking when it comes to you. Think he’d chop off his own arm to make sure you were happy. Hell if you needed an organ he’d be the first one in line to give you one.”
This time it’s your turn to scoff. “No he wouldn’t.”
“Why do you do that?” Max groans.
You narrow your eyes at him, confused as to what he was referring to. “Do what?”
“Act like he doesn’t think the world of you.”
Your mouth opens to reply, but no words come out. Instead you bring your cup to your lips and fill the void with your drink. What Max had said was true, but you couldn’t help it. You figured if you forced yourself to think that Lando didn’t care that deeply about you, then those feelings that you harbor for him wouldn’t rise to the surface. It didn’t help that his behavior recently had you thinking that perhaps he felt the same about you and when you have your mutual friends in your ear implying that to be true it just makes things that much harder for you.
“You probably haven’t even noticed that he’s been practically watching us talk this whole time have you?”
You can feel your heart rate start to speed up just at the thought of it. As your eyes scan the room they finally land on the Brit standing in the corner with some other people, but he’s not actually engaging in the conversation, he’s too busy staring back at you. Somehow from across the room you can still see those pretty mixture of blue and green eyes of his sparkle and when he realizes you're finally looking back at him a shy smile spreads across his face before he’s quickly looking away.
“Wish you two would stop dancing around each other and just admit what we all already know.” Max mumbles before taking a swig of his beer.
Maybe it’s the mixture of alcohol and the fact that you’ve once again got someone in your ear about Lando and you, but you can sense those feelings starting to claw their way back up and you aren’t sure if you can push them back down tonight.
“Ten minutes until midnight!” The DJ’s voice travels through the apartment and you’re sure Max will be getting some kind of fee taped to his door in the morning.
Max says something about talking to you later before exiting the kitchen and you realize with ten minutes till midnight that you’ve got to get your grapes and find a table to fit under. For the moment you push Lando to the back of your mind and focus on your very important task at hand.
Luckily for you Max had a decently sized dining table in his apartment so with your grapes in hand you crawled under the table, which thankfully was shielded by a tablecloth, and settled in for your feast.
Lando on the other hand had been searching for you everywhere since the ten minute announcement. He’d literally just seen you in the kitchen with Max and then when he looked back again you were both gone. He’d gone in the bathrooms, the bedrooms, the closets, every single place he could think you would be and it’s like you had vanished. Max had a large apartment, especially to be living in London, but it wasn’t that big to allow for you to not be found. His texts to you had gone unanswered and he began to think maybe you had left, but he knew you would have told him if you were leaving, so that theory went out the window.
When the five minute announcement hit his ears he began asking people if they had seen you and with each no or i think she was in the kitchen a while ago he received his hopes of finding you before midnight started to diminish.
He’d finally worked up the courage to tell you how he’d felt tonight. After years of holding himself back and not wanting to ruin what you two already had, he’d decided that life was too short and that he would come to regret not allowing himself to truly love you like he should. He knew you were the one and there wasn’t a bone in his body that didn’t think you didn’t feel the same. So, he was finally going to bite the bullet tonight and he wanted you to be the person he was kissing as the clock struck twelve. But if he couldn’t find you, then how in the world was he supposed to do that?
Lando was honestly starting to get worried over not being able to find you, screw the whole love confession at this point. What if something had happened to you? He’d been all over Max’s place countless times and he still couldn’t find you. With the official countdown echoing through the apartment he decided to just say fuck it and head to your place and see if you had gone home.
As he was heading to get his coat a familiar sparkly heel sticking out from under the dining table caught his attention. It was the same type of heels he’d seen you put on earlier and he did somewhat of a double take. He wondered if it was the couple drinks he’d had messing with him because why would you be sitting under Max’s dining table?
He crouches down and slowly lifts the table cloth up, unsure of what he’s going to find underneath it. Everyone is only getting louder and with five seconds until midnight what he finds staring back at him under the table is not at all how he expected his night to end up. There you are with your now empty bag of grapes on the floor and your cheeks stuffed full of said grapes. You resemble something of a chipmunk and Lando can’t help but laugh at you.
“What the hell are you doing down here?”
The excessively loud shouting of happy new year from everyone while noise makers and confetti fill the air distract both Lando and you for a moment. He didn’t think this is the position he’d be in right now, he figured he’d be in that crowd with his lips on yours like so many others right now. While you on the other hand didn’t think you’d be caught in such an embarrassing situation, not to mention you hadn’t even gotten all your grapes down, so this stupid thing was probably all for nothing.
His attention is back on you in no time and he really wants to know what you were doing. Were you that addicted to grapes that you had to hide under the table while you got your fix? If so, he may need to have a talk with you.
“Seriously, why are you hiding under the table stuffing grapes into your mouth?” He prods again.
Your mouth is still so full of the grapes that you can’t really talk and all you can manage to get out is leave while simultaneously trying to jab his leg with your heel. You were embarrassed and at this point scared you might choke on the grapes, and you’d rather go out in peace then have Lando cause a scene because you were choking.
“Ouch!” Lando yelps as your heel finally makes contact with him. You know he’s being dramatic because you barely even kicked him, but you would try anything for him to drop that table cloth and let you be. “Come on, come out from under there.” Lando grabs your arm and practically forces you to come out from under the table.
Luckily, everyone else was too preoccupied with still ringing in the New Year to see you crawl out and as you dust yourself off you're still chomping on the last couple grapes left. The party only seems to be getting crazier and you don’t really feel like staying here until the party inevitably ends at an ungodly hour in the morning, especially now that your plan for love has undoubtedly failed.
You finally swallow the last couple grapes and take a deep breath, the fear of choking and embarrassment now behind you. “Do you care if I leave? Not really feeling the party that much anymore.”
Lando doesn’t even question your request. “I’ll walk you home, let me grab our coats and tell Max we are leaving.”
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
The cold England air hits you as you exit Max’s apartment building and you’re thankful that your place isn’t very far from his. It’s silent between Lando and you for some time, the sound of your heels on the pavement, fireworks in the distance, and other people celebrating are the only things you two hear.
“Can I ask you something?” Lando finally breaks the silence.
“Shoot.”
He takes a deep breath fully knowing once he opens this locked away side of him that there’s no going back. “Have you ever thought about us?”
You feel your heart skip a beat at his question, yet you try to remain cool and collected. “What do you mean?”
He stops in his tracks causing you to mimic his actions. “Like,” he motions between the two of you, “us.”
There’s not a doubt in your mind about what he’s referring to and yes you do think about the two of you. Yet your brain feels scrambled once you're actually confronted with the possibility of Lando feeling the same as you. You’d tried so hard to ignore the feelings, hell you’d tried something you saw on the internet to hopefully bring a different man into your life to finally squash those feelings. You’d just never thought you’d be in this position though and it’s throwing you into a whirlwind.
Lando isn’t sure what your silence means and he figures he’s already started, he might as well just fully admit it at this point.
“Fuck it. I told myself I was going to do this tonight and I’m not gonna chicken out again.” His cheeks are rosy from the cold and you can tell by the way his pretty eyes dart all around your face that he’s trying to figure out how to say what he wants to say. “I’ve got feelings for you.” He finally blurts out.
“No scratch that I’m in love with you Y/N. Think I have been for some time now. I’ve tried telling you how I felt for what seems like ages, but I’ve always been too scared to. I’ve been afraid that you wouldn’t feel the same and to me I’d rather bottle up my feelings and keep you in my life then tell you how I feel and lose you. But clearly I’ve grown tired of that and realized that the reward would be higher than the risk. You’re my person Y/N. I couldn’t imagine life without you and to have you be mine would make life that much better. So here I am baring my heart to you on some street in London on New Year’s Eve. I actually had a whole plan on how I was-”
His rambling while you loved most of the time was cut off by your desire to shut him up with your lips on his and you did just that. You grabbed him by his coat and pulled him into you, your lips crashing together. It takes him a moment to realize what's happening, but when his brain finally starts to work and he kisses you back it’s everything you could have imagined and more.
Kissing Lando is like heaven on Earth and the way his soft lips feel against yours has you wishing you would have just stopped being so stubborn and listened to your friends ages ago. His large warm hands come out of his pockets and he cups your face as he deepens the kiss, which has you feeling lightheaded and warm all over.
There’s fireworks being let off not too far away that light up the sky above you, but you’re too engrossed in each other to pay them much mind. It’s truly like a scene straight out of a movie and you know you’ll remember this moment forever.
You two finally pull away to breathe and it’s like you can see the world in a whole new way. The depressing grey landscape of London in the winter time suddenly looks like it was painted in technicolor and neither of you can wipe the cheek hurting grin off your faces. “So I guess you feel the same?” He asks.
“Yes Lando Norris, I’m in love with you too. Have been for a while and like you I didn’t want to ruin what we already have. To me there was no possible way that you felt the same and I hate rejection and the idea of losing you. So, I went on a million dates trying to find someone that would replace how I felt about you, but I guess you can’t replace someone who your heart has already laid claim to.”
You feel Lando intertwine your fingers with his and it’s like everything just feels right in the world.
“I’m glad we stopped being so stubborn and that I don’t have to see you out with all those random guys anymore.”
“Believe me, none of them even came close to comparing to you. It was like going on a date with a sack of potatoes most of the time.”
His infectious laugh fills your ears and you feel your heart swell. You can’t believe this was what you were depriving yourself of for so long.
The rest of the walk back to your apartment is spent walking hand in hand. All while little giggles escape each of you ever so often and Lando occasionally kisses you on the head or lifts your intertwined hands up to plant a kiss there.
“I have to ask again. It’s really been bugging me. What were you doing under that table?” Lando asks as you near your apartment building. A loud groan emits from you and there isn’t anything less that you would want to talk about than that. “Come on, just tell me!”
“Fine! I saw this thing on the internet that if you eat twelve green grapes under a table at midnight that it’s supposed to bring you luck in the love department in the New Year. Like you’d find your soulmate or something. I was so desperate to try and get over these feelings I have for you so what we had wouldn’t be ruined that I was willing to try anything.”
He’s silent for a moment and then he looks at you with the biggest smile on his face. “Well I’d say it worked didn’t it? You’ve found love and not to be overzealous, but I’d say your soulmate too.”
You’re stunned for a moment when you realize that yes, the grapes did work, just not in the way you planned. The universe had put Lando in your life years ago and for some weird reason had you wait this long to finally truly be in one another's lives, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Hell, you’d eat a whole package of grapes if that meant Lando and you got to be together in every lifetime.
“They did, didn't they? I guess almost choking to death was worth it in the end.”
“I mean I know I’m every woman’s dream, but you didn’t almost have to kill yourself to get my attention baby.”
You playfully slap his arm as he laughs at you. That big head of his was sometimes fully ego and you realized you were going to have to put up with it all the time now. “Oh shut up.”
“Yeah, but you love me.” He states before pressing a kiss to your lips, which has your mind feeling like TV static once again.
When you pull away and look him in the eyes there’s nothing but pure love staring back at you and you know that this is who is meant to be in your life, till the end. “More than you’ll ever know.”
The next morning you receive a group text from Max with Lando and you in it.
max: why have i found an empty bag with what looks to be a grape stem in it under my dining table??? i fully know it was one of you.
you: i don’t know what you're talking about.
lando: me either. no grapes were consumed by us last night. must have been someone else.
#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris fic#lando norris fluff#lando norris smut#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#mine#writing
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
hermana part 2 || ln4
lando norris x fem!reader smau + written
part 1!
warnings: some language, slightly steamy scene (no smut but mdni!!), carlos being a protective big brother and lando being down bad
a/n: thanks for all the love on part 1! I decided to do a mix of written + smau for this part. requests are open for smau and text fics <3
landonorris posted



liked by maxfewtrell, yourusername, maxverstappen1, and others
landonorris perfect day in the sun with the best company. getting lots of rest and relaxation before the triple header 🤙
view all comments
user1 "best company" aka just y/n
user2 wait she was with him again today??? user1 yes! f1gossip just posted the photos. they were alone all day 👀
user3 omg this means y/n took these pics! y/n.jpg when?
maxfewtrell looks like my invite got lost
user4 💀💀💀
yourusername ☀️🤗
user5 queen y/n thank u for taking these great pics
f1gossip posted



liked by user1, user2, and others
f1gossip Lando Norris and Y/N Y/L/N were spotted getting cozy this afternoon. The two embarked on a private yacht for an afternoon filled with swimming and laughter. Eyewitnesses say the two were alone all afternoon. It seems like things are rapidly heating up with these two. The next time Y/L/N is seen in the paddock, will she be rocking red ❤️ or papaya 🧡?
view all comments
user2 LANY/N NATION WAKE UP
user3 i can't believe lany/n is real omg
user1 right?? people used to ship them during the carlando mclaren days and now it's REAL
user4 the hand placement omgggg
user5 i wonder what carlos thinks
user2 who cares? it's their lives not his
user6 y/n in papaya at the austin gp pleaseee
user5 ain't no way. she'll always support carlos first, he is basically her brother
yourusername posted a close friends story

story replies:
yourbestfriend not the private yacht on the FIRST DATE
yourusername technically our first date is tomorrow night yourbestfriend literally stfu you know what i meant
carlossainz55 don't stay out too late
yourusername 🙄
landonorris posted a close friends story

story replies:
maxfewtrell did you tell her that you've been secretly in love with her for like 5 years yet or
landonorris OBVIOUSLY NOT i'm trying to play it cool
oscarpiastri I think I missed a chapter
carlossainz55 get my sister back home early cabrón
landonorris leave us alone carlos carlossainz55 excuse me? landonorris NO SORRY THAT WAS Y/N SHE TOOK MY PHONE landonorris I'll make sure she gets home safe mate! 👍
You giggled as you watched Lando frantically type a message back to Carlos. "Sorry, I couldn't help myself!"
You played with the stem of your wine glass. It had been a dream of a day. You were now sharing a bottle of wine together to end the night.
"Your brother is going to have my head!" He finished typing his message out, feeling satisfied, before setting his phone back down.
Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you said, "You know he isn't really my brother, right?"
Lando chuckled. "You try telling him that."
"Yeah, yeah, I know." You swirled your glass a bit, taking another sip. "He's always been protective like that."
Lando let out another chuckle. "Oh trust me, I know."
His response and tone piqued your interest. You turned your head towards him, seeing a sly smile on his handsome face. "What do you mean?"
Lando opened and closed his mouth for a few moments, contemplating his words. Finally, he spoke. "I may have tried to ask you out in the past, but Carlos sort of, put a stop to it."
Your jaw dropped in shock. "What?!" You tried to fully understand what he was saying. "When was this exactly?"
Without hesitation, Lando responded, "During Carlos' last year in McLaren."
The shock was evident on your face. Silence rang in the air as you tried to find your words. Lando took the opportunity to speak again.
"And again during his first year in Ferrari."
"What?!" You couldn't believe what you were hearing. When Carlos was at McLaren, you were taking a few years off from school to travel. Traveling the world ended up being easy to do when Carlos agreed to let you tag along to all the races as his "assistant". Carlos was on a new team in F1 with a rookie teammate that was your age. You and Lando became friends quickly, and it wasn't long until you began to harbor a crush on him.
It was a secret only you and Y/BSF/N knew about. You definitely didn't tell Carlos, because you knew how that would go.
Once Carlos left McLaren, you went back to school and your appearances at the races dwindled down to one or two a year. You and Lando went from spending every weekend together running around the paddock, to seeing each other in passing as you made your way to Ferrari and he made his way to McLaren.
"That little shit. I'm going to kill him."
You weren't sure if it was the wine or just how carefree and fun everything with Lando was, but you couldn't stop the fit of giggles that escaped you. After a few moments, Lando joined you in your laughter. Tears began to escape both your eyes.
As the laughter died down, the moment suddenly felt very intimate. Lando's face was extremely close, the rest of the world melting away. "I'm pretty sure I started having a crush on you after that first race weekend." You suddenly felt shy, but you couldn't stop the confession from slipping out.
Now it was Lando's turn to express his surprise, his eyes widening for a moment. He searched your face for a moment, almost like he was waiting for you to tell him you were kidding. Finally, he spoke.
"I really want to kiss you."
You were grateful that the sun had fully gone down now, so there was minimal lighting to help hide the blush creeping on your cheeks. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest as you whispered out, "Why don't you?"
Lando's adoring gaze had you captivated. "I've wanted to do it for so long now," he confessed, "I want to do it right."
You couldn't help the sly smirk on your face as you teased, "I think we've been pining after each other long enough, don't you think?"
Lando reached his hand forward, cradling your cheek in his hand. His thumb brushed against your cheek, causing goosebumps down your arms.
You wanted to live in this moment forever; Lando being this close, his lips inches from yours. Finally, you both instinctively moved forward, your lips colliding after what felt like an eternity.
You both stilled for a moment, trying to rack your brains over the realization that this was actually and finally happening. After a few seconds, you melted into the kiss, sliding your hands up to rest around his neck.
The two of you moved in sync. It felt like your lips were made for each other. Lando's hand around your head tightened, while his second hand found its home on your waist. One of your hands slide up Lando's neck and into his hair, playing with his curls lightly.
Lando slightly pinched your waist, causing you to gasp, which allowed for his tongue to sneak in. You responded with a slight tug on his curls, causing a groan to escape out of him and into your mouth.
You giggled slightly, breaking the kiss for a moment. "You like that, huh?"
Even though it was dark, you could see how Lando's eyes darkened. With no shame, he responded, "Yes," suddenly his hands slipped down, grabbing your thighs and easily moving you to straddle his lap, "You have no idea the effect anything you do has on me."
Now you were sure it was the wine giving you confidence when you ground your body down to feel his already hard erection. "Oh, I think I have somewhat of an idea." Your hands slipped back into his curls at the nape of his neck, tugging softly.
You relished in the way that Lando's eyes fluttered shut, his hands moving to your hips, guiding them as you continued to grind your body with his.
Lando was putty in your hands. You began to feel the heat in your core. You tugged on Lando's curls again, pulling his head back and eliciting a small moan from his lips.
Bringing your head down, your lips connected with his jaw, peppering him with open mouth kisses on both sides of his face before moving down to his neck.
Lando continued guiding the movement of your hips, his hands tightening around your waist and moving them faster as he felt your lips on his neck. You couldn't hold back the moan that escaped your lips, letting it ring out right in Lando's ear.
Lando was sure he was in heaven. Your moans were music to his ears.
He let one hand leave your hip and travel to your face, bringing you back towards his lips. Your lips collided again, this time with more urgency and desperation.
You both couldn't believe that you had let all these years go by wasted, when you could've been doing this the whole time. You were kissing each other like your lives depended on it.
Lando's hand moved up and down your sides, squeezing slightly, causing another moan to escape from you, and allowing his tongue entrance again.
You moved your hands down his chest, and began to play with the hem of his shirt.
Lando suddenly broke the kiss, breaking the blissful bubble you two had been caught up in.
"We should stop."
You felt fear creep up on you. Had you done something wrong? Did he not want this anymore? As if he could read your worries on your face, he softly brought his lips to yours again for a moment.
"Trust me, I don't want to stop," he began, chuckling lightly, "but I told you. I want to do this right."
You softened at his words. "You're right." You lazily played with his curls again. "Feels like we have to make up for so much lost time, but I'm not going anywhere."
Lando chuckled. "Me either. Now that I know you want me like I want you, you're never getting rid of me." Lando gave you a goofy grin. He moved his hand up, playing with a strand of your hair for a moment before tucking it behind you ear, "I could spend all night making up for lost time, and even then I guarantee I would be leaving wanting more."
You blushed, grateful again for the minimal lighting. Words lost you. Instead, you just gazed lovingly into Lando's eyes.
"Plus, Carlos told me to make sure you're home early, so..."
Lando relished in the way you rolled your eyes and chuckled softly.
The two of you always felt deep down that you had missed out on something great with each other. Now the universe was giving you a second chance to act on it.
yourusername posted



liked by yourbestfriend, iamrebeccad, landonorris, charles_leclerc, and others
yourusername 🌊🤙🖕
tagged: carlossainz55, iamrebeccad
view all comments
user1 not tagging lando is crazy 💀 girl we know
user2 shhhh let them cook up a soft launch user3 why would she tag him in this tho user1 that's literally lando's jolly lol
charles_leclerc hahaha the last photo
yourusername yeah that's actually me to carlos rn charles_leclerc never a dull moment with you two 😂😂
user2 her and lando used the same emoji. she posts his car but doesn't tag. he's in the likes. the soft launch of the century is about to begin. in this essay, I will-
user4 carlos in that pic is him reading these comments fr
user5 lando behind the camera of that first pic like 😍🤳
user1 we need y/n on lando.jpg stat
As you waited impatiently for Carlos to return home, your phone chimed, signaling another text had come through. You rolled your eyes, thinking it would be another message from Carlos, but you felt your heart skip a beat seeing Lando's name across your screen.
"Maybe Carlito thought you didn't like him, and was trying to help you out."
You stared at your sister's face on the screen in disbelief. "You're supposed to be on my side here."
Your sister laughed. "I am! I just also know Carlos wouldn't do something like this without a valid reason."
You heard a jingle at the door. "Speak of the devil, he's back."
"Call me later, don't give him a hard time, mana." She gave you a wave. "Oh, and have fun tomorrow night."
"I will, talk to you later." You gave your sister a wave back before ending the call.
You got up from your spot on the couch, walking towards the front door. You stood with your arms crossed as the door opened slowly. Suddenly Rebecca's head popped into view. You gave her a small smile.
"Your brother is behind me waving a white flag."
You couldn't help but laugh. "There shall be peace."
Carlos slowly came into view, his hands raised in defeat. He walked hesitantly towards you, waiting for you to react. Rebecca walked past you, giving your shoulder a light squeeze before disappearing into the bedroom.
"I don't want to argue, mano. I just don't understand."
Carlos stared at you for a moment before leading you back to the couch, sitting down and signaling you to do the same. "Listen, back then, you were so young and I was supposed to be looking after you on the road," he started, "and I know how it is once you get to F1. The fame, media, parties..." he paused for a moment, "The girls." He waited a beat before saying, "That's why I'm telling you to be careful with him now."
You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes. "Lando and I used to have movie nights every race weekend while you and other drivers would go out to clubs and party." You looked down, nervously playing with your hands. "And yeah, I know he does go out now and that he's been seen with different girls, but I know deep down he's still that same guy."
"You guys were kids back then, but now? Lando is usually the first to arrive and the last to leave the club now, always a different girl on his arm."
You finally looked Carlos in the eye, whispering out, "So you think I'm just another girl for him to flaunt around until he gets bored?" You felt your face get hot due to a mix of anger and shame. "I'm not good enough to be something real for him?"
The regret was evident on Carlos' face the second after you spoke. "No, no, hermana, you know that's not what I mean."
"Then what is it? Is it because he's your friend?"
Carlos chuckled. "No, no," he sighed, "I knew you liked him back then. I saw how you looked at him. That dreamy, goofy gleam in your eyes," he said, "and when Lando came to me and said he wanted to ask you out, I panicked."
You were listening intently now. "Why?" you whispered out.
"I think it was the first time I realized you were growing up. The idea of my hermanita dating anyone, nevertheless a driver, freaked me out." He laughed. "I just wanted to protect you from the craziness that comes with being with an F1 driver; I still do."
"Lando said he respects you, and that's why he stayed away back then. But now we're adults, and we're making our own decisions without interference from others." You couldn't stop the smile from creeping back onto your face. "I've always liked him, mano. I want to see where this goes."
Carlos couldn't help but match your smile. He liked seeing you this happy, and if that was because of Lando, then he was willing to be open-minded. "Okay, okay, I'm on board," he chuckled, "but I told you already. If he breaks your heart, he goes into the wall."
You rolled your eyes playfully. "You'd have to catch up to his rocketship in your tractor first."
Carlos' jaw dropped, disbelief written on his face. "I can't believe I've already lost you to the papaya army."
You let out a laugh, nudging his shoulder. "Hey, family always comes first. I'm a Ferrari girl first, papaya girlie second."
"Good, because that would be where I'd draw the line."
"I'm ready for next year, though. Blue is much more my color."
The two of you shared a laugh, before Carlos leaned over to end the moment with a hug. "I love you, hermanita."
"Love you too, Carlitos."
As you and Carlos embraced, you heard a door open slightly. Rebecca appeared, smile evident on her face, happy to see Carlos back in your good graces.
"Anyone down for a late night ice cream run?"
yourusername posted stories


story 2 caption: making them pay for my ice cream like: 🥺 👉👈 i'm just a baby
story replies to story 1:
user1 LANY/N ANTHEM???
user2 "we were supposed to be just friends" omg omg omg
yourbestfriend dude has my girl posting love songs on main already 😭😭😭
yourusername 😂
landonorris is this what they call a soft launch
yourusername 😂🫣 maybe landonorris hmm brb yourusername huh?
story replies to story 2:
yoursister hahaha he really said here have some ice cream pls forgive me
yourusername no but fr 💀
user3 girl you can't just post that song and move on this quickly!!
landonorris posted a story

story replies:
danielricciardo is little lando norris in love???
yourusername 🥹😭
landonorris ❤️
user1 oh ya'll are in LOVEEEE
user2 you guys ain't slick posting these back to back 😭
carlossainz55 thanks a lot, she won't stop playing this song now
oscarpiastri okay I DEFINITELY missed a chapter
a/n: yep there will be a part 3 because I can't stop myself lol if you'd like to be tagged, let me know!
Part 3
tag list: @npcmia @tinyhrry @that-one-little-soybean
#lando norris x reader#f1 x reader#lando norris smau#f1 smau#lando norris x female reader#lando norris x reader texts#f1 fanfic#lando norris#lando norris imagine#formula 1 x reader#f1 imagine#lando norris x y/n#formula 1#f1 fic#f1#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz#ln4#cs55#lando x reader#lando norris fanfic
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi! So I lobe what you have been posting and really want one with either max or mick?
One where they don't realises that they are covered in hickey or scratches?
And it gets called out by either the fans or the press/other drivers?
Please do nsfw either a flashback or one afterwards with a bit of revenge towards our dear reader
Thank yoz and keep up the amazing work 🫶🫶
hey there! i absolutely love all the detail you've given me to work with <3 also i straight up had a physical reaction to this because RAAAAAARGH this is. so hot. also this takes place before singapore 2024 :)
taglist: @vivi-81 @irishmanwhore @lucycowr @benstormy @anat33-blog1
@xoscar03 @tremendousstarlighttragedy @nenamalenaa @champagneproblems17 @marknolee
@toby33b @soloqualcosa @sassyinchident808 @slutmeoutsworld @itsgrlalmghty
join my taglist here!
it was the flash of papaya among a sea of navy blue that snapped max out of the zoned-out daze he'd been in for the past few minutes. lando.
thank christ.
he reaches out his hand, clasping the mclaren driver's own and bringing him in for a brief hug before stepping back. thankfully, there isn't any media around right now, or max might just flip a table. he's getting real sick of putting up a wall of friendliness when all he wanted to do was escape to his driver's room and mentally prepare for the upcoming qualifying session.
they make small talk for a few moments, talking about the track evolution throughout the day, the brutal heat and humidity, the added drs zone, lap times...
"you get up to anything last night, mate?" lando quirks an eyebrow and sips from his black drinks bottle as he asks the question, leaning his hip against a random storage container.
you'd been wandering around the paddock with lily zneimer while max finished up in the post-practice press conference, doing anything you could to escape the absolutely brutal singaporean heat. however, it seemed that the moment max left you alone, any man within a ten kilometer radius immediately decided to flirt with you.
as soon as the press conference was over and max was released from any further duties, he began searching for you throughout the paddock. after fifteen unsuccessful minutes, though, he thankfully ran into someone who might have a vague idea as to where you may be.
"daniel, have you seen-"
"mclaren hospitality with zneimer."
"thanks."
as max approached the painfully orange building, he heard your voice, mood immediately lifting. what he heard, however, pissed him off beyond measure.
"-told you, i have a boyfriend. i'm not interested. now, if you could kindly fuck off, i'm trying to enjoy my lunch."
what the fuck?
when he rounded the corner, he saw who you were talking to, and... really? this guy thought he had a chance with you? if there was anything more about the situation that could piss max off even more, it's the fact that he's leaning in way too close for his- and your- comfort.
"hey, schatje. everything all good over here?" max rests a hand on your shoulder, deliberately placing himself between you and this creep who won't leave you alone.
"yeah, everything's good. how did the press conference go?" you tilt your head back, and max immediately understands, ducking down to kiss you quickly.
it's that moment that the man bothering you chooses to speak up, and he somehow says the one thing that wouldn't help his situation right now, embarrassing as it is already. "could've just said you had a boyfriend. fuckin' bitch." max's hand twitches on your shoulder and you bring your own up to rest on it, holding him in place. instead of any other reaction, max offers him a fake smile before he storms off, leaving the two of you to burst into laughter.
max sits down next to you, steals a bite of your croissant, and leans back in his chair, a cocky smirk on his face as he chews the flaky pastry. "i was eating that, thank you very much."
"i'll buy you another one," max replies nonchalantly as if he didn't just stare daggers into the heart of the man that was flirting with you. "it seems like you need something that tells people you're taken, though."
later that night, max's lips and teeth ghosted across the skin of your neck, breasts, and thighs as you squirmed beneath him, promising that the blues, purples, and yellows that mottled your skin would ensure that no one would even think about flirting with you.
"nah, nothing much," max lies. "just the team debrief, some sim work, checking over numbers with gp, that kind of stuff. what about you?"
"nah, nothing much," lando responds with a shrug, teeth still clamped around the bendy straw. "played some padel games with max but we were roasted by the end of it. fell dead asleep by nine."
"yeah, the heat always beats it out of me here. i'm probably going to sleep for thirteen hours straight after the race on sunday."
"i probably will, too, honestly, but mostly because i can't beat the jet lag here." max nods in agreement, taking a sip out of his own drinks bottle. "a little birdy told me that you got up to more than just racing review, last night, though."
max's eyebrows furrow in confusion, and he swallows the gulp of water he'd taken. "what do you mean?"
"your neck, mate."
max whined as his hips canted up into yours, his hands desperately grabbing at your arms. your tongue laved over your teeth marks, matching blues and purples littering the lower part of max's neck but coming high enough so that they'd be just visible over the high collar of his fireproofs and race suit. "fuck, schatje, feels so good."
"yeah? you like everyone knowing that you're mine?" all max can do is nod pathetically, biting down on his lower lip in order to muffle the sounds he so desperately wants to make. "use your words, max."
"love it, want everyone to know i'm yours. everyone needs to know."
"there you go, baby." your hips resume their previous pattern, and you groan openly at the delicious slide of max's cock inside of you, filling you up so perfectly. he cries out when you shift your lips lower, taking his left nipple between your teeth gently, and you're able to pry one of his hands from your arm, bringing it to your own breast in hopes that he gets the memo.
he does.
max's hand immediately kneads at your breast, and you groan, your mouth shifting over to his other nipple and repeating the same ministrations, letting your teeth graze it ever so slightly between gentle licks and sucks. "mm, fuck, schatje, gonna cum, 'm gonna cum-"
"so cum for me, max." that's all max needs to hear before his head is thrown back and a beautiful moan rips itself from his throat, and you can't help but press your fingers into the bruises that litter his thick neck. the combination of the high-pitched wails that fill your ears and the feeling of max's cum filling you beyond full makes you fall over the edge, too, and you collapse onto his chest with a satisfied giggle.
max's hand immediately comes up to his neck and he tries not to wince at the flashes of pain that zip through his body, stemming from the lingering bite marks you'd left the night before, his eyes flashing wide. "that bad?"
"that bad," lando confirms with a nod and a smirk. "you might want to go find her and make her cover them up for you before qualifying."
#mxstellatayte#stella questionz#stella writez#driver: mv33.#max verstappen#formula 1#f1#max verstappen fanfiction#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x female reader#max verstappen smut#max verstappen fluff#formula 1 fanfiction#formula 1 fluff#formula 1 smut#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x female reader#f1 fanfiction#f1 smut#f1 fluff#f1 x reader#f1 x female reader
455 notes
·
View notes
Note
hello hive, I'm glad you opened your requests 🎀
viktor and reader both are students in the academy and go to the library most of the time. One day Viktor found a handwritten note left between the pages of a book, it may be a question about something in the book with no name or anything and viktor decided to answer it before returning the book, days later he was curious if the mysterious person answered and they did, and added another note to him, over time it turns to a habit, talking about studying, telling eachother about their day, gossip and unspoken confessions about how they enjoy their talks, until one day one of them didn't answer for a while and made the other worried and desperate for their reply (idk if the last thing is a good choice but i want it to be a slow burn, and i want them to kiss passionately at the end of this 🤧 so i leave this to you)
Hi Anon! Sorry this took so long!

Bookends
viktorxgn!reader, but viktor-centric for the most part, general/mature - some pining and making out :v
word count: 2,5K
author’s note: Artist of course is @petitesieste.
—
How does one truly know when they've crossed a line between curiosity and obsession?
It falls out of an old textbook on mechanical theory as Viktor flips through the pages. A question he himself has asked glares at him mockingly from a small piece of paper wedged into the book’s spine. The script is barely legible, written in haste and left there—intentionally or not, he doesn’t know. But the very nature of the question is what compels him to answer.
Perhaps when the object of your curiosity becomes something you can't stop thinking about, even when you should be focused on something else.
His handwriting is almost too precise for the nature of the exchange, a stark contrast to the wobbly letters on the parchment. He folds it neatly in half, redoing the uneven crease, and places it back in its spot.
And then, Viktor thinks nothing of it.
For an entire week, the memory lingers at the back of his mind, barely a passing thought—until his feet carry him to the academy library once more. He beelines toward the mechanical engineering section, eyes scanning the spines until he spots it: the same textbook as before, wedged tightly between others, sticking out by an inch, as if put back in a hurry.
Excitement shakes his hand as he reaches for it and takes it to a secluded corner obscured by bookshelves. He flips through the pages in one sweep, his heart skipping—only to deflate when he realises it’s just a dog-ear. And of all pages, it’s on one of the most unremarkable.
He sighs, leaning back on his chair when he sees it—the tiniest triangle of white peeking from under the cover. He opens the book’s end and there it is, another note. Fresh paper, though folded roughly, like the last one. Writing less surgeon-like too.
What if the object of my curiosity is also the one I should be focusing on? What then?
Viktor smiles under his nose, breath light, forming into a chuckle as he conjures an answer. He wishes his tone—teasing and gentle—could be poured into paper and hopes you will read his good intentions from it.
Then you must ask yourself—are you studying it, or surrendering to it?
He stares at it a little while longer, finally deciding no touch-ups are needed. Like last time, he puts corner to corner, edge to edge, as his neat fold overrides yours—uncaring and hasty. He places it at the book’s end and wedges it back onto the shelf.
Next, only three days go by before Viktor finds himself lurking in the library again. He doesn’t even pretend it’s for any reason other than a quick trip to his now-favourite section.
When he opens the book and sees the same piece of paper insistently folded at an angle, he can’t help but think this is you making some point. And then he knows—that intended tone of his was, indeed, not read as he wished for.
I am not surrendering to anything. IT consumes me—do not presume this is a consensual capitulation!
Oh. Something sinks in him. Quickly, as if scribbling would fix it in an instant, he bleeds his apology in ink, letters less neat than usual.
Forgive me, I did not mean to intrude like this. I hoped you’d read my tone as light, but jest doesn’t transfer to paper, it would seem. You can speak freely, I promise I won’t judge.
To reinforce his pliancy, this time Viktor doesn’t iron the page out with his palm. This time, he folds it just as it was—crooked��as if telling you he’s on your side.
What his heart does when the next little letter he finds is folded neatly is indescribable.
No harm done, forgive my short temper. And thank you, truly. I’m just afraid I’m going mad, my secret confidant.
Viktor sighs. A breath leaves him, leaving a smile behind—and a blush. Secret confidant is such an intimate title; his heart flutters again, and he writes down a question before his brain manages to deem it too eager.
Am I a secret of yours?
Scratch that. Again, scratch. Scratch, until it is obscured enough, Viktor thinks. Instead, he writes:
What are the symptoms of your madness? And the object of the curiosity? Or, should I say, obsession?
As a sign of good will, he folds unevenly.
It’s day by day now. Sometimes twice, as he swings by the library in the evening, just to check. One evening, it proves worthwhile, as you’ve replied sometime in the afternoon.
I keep things close to my heart a secret, so nobody takes them from me.
Scratched—yet not enough to obscure the text. His heart swoons at the thought of how carefully you must have traced each letter, deciphering his attempt at confining the reckless scribble. Further on, you say:
Patterns. I see them everywhere I go; they haunt me day and night. My friend is sick of me, says not everything has a meaning. What do you think?
For a minute, Viktor closes his eyes. Uncanny, how the universe has thrown him someone equally tormented—and by the same hand, too. He rubs his thumb over the paper, caressing it, as if you could somehow feel the comfort meant to be given through the gesture. Then, with a soft smile, he writes:
I’m afraid I might be the worst thing that has happened to you, as I wholeheartedly agree—there is a pattern in everything. But therefore, I don’t think it is obsession, but loneliness you are experiencing.
He presses it to his chest before folding it. Then, he adds:
You are my secret, too.
Bravely, he scratches it out with one neat line only. And it requires a heart emboldened with courage because Viktor feels as if he’s just exposed himself in a way he never has before. When your next message arrives, he’s relieved that the effort proved worthy.
If you are the worst, why do I feel less lonely?
It’s a rhetorical question, which I believe you know, but also, given the history of our past conversations, I wouldn’t be surprised if you answered it in some elaborate way. I will be blunt then: thank you for making me feel less lonely.
Can you tell me what’s the most recent pattern you’ve noticed? I observed that Professor Heimerdinger’s poro acts uneasy when one of my classmates, who is particularly fond of unsolicited petting, sits at the front bench during lab class. As soon as the poro gets disturbed, the professor’s attention splits, and his test questions are hasty. I tend not to do well without a properly structured quiz, so as soon as I see his grabby hands—no, as soon as I see him sit his ass in that front chair—I know my quiz score will be lower than usual.
So many words from you make Viktor feel blessed. He reads them over and over again, and three things strike him. One—you’ve said he makes you feel less lonely. Two—you take class with Heimerdinger, so as the professor’s assistant, he’s most likely already seen you. And three—you keep these conversations with you. That’s why it’s a new piece of paper each time.
That is both a fascinating and highly practical observation. It seems you have developed a contingency plan for academic sabotage, courtesy of a poro and an inconsiderate classmate. I admire the ingenuity—though I must ask, have you considered distracting the poro yourself?
I, too, have been noticing patterns lately. One in particular stands out: my favourite book in this library always seems to shift slightly out of place before I get to it, as if someone has touched it before me. I wonder, do you think this is a coincidence?
I’m glad you feel less lonely. I do too.
From this, it just flows. Stories, jokes, gossip (apparently Heimerdinger has a lady friend that Viktor had no idea about?), heartfelt confessions sometimes—you even left him some doodles. Attached to the main paper with a paperclip, you wrote a short note: This one is for you. Heimerdinger’s poro asleep under a desk, a sweet way to say thank you for his idea of diversion against that one student’s grabby hands.
And Viktor feels ridiculous, blushing to himself as he writes longer and longer messages, almost letters at this point. He scans the classroom when he pops in to pick up Heimerdinger’s notes, wondering which face belongs to you, visiting the library three times a day, poking at the already worn-out tome, until—one day, it’s gone.
Borrowed.
A gaping hole in your communication method that neither of you had even considered. He rushes to the reception desk to check who took the book, but the grumpy librarian refuses to provide such information.
Days pass without a message from you, and with the book still gone, Viktor finds himself at his wit’s end. Shoulders hulking sullenly, brows furrowed, and mouth lopsided, he steps into the dusty rooms on any given occasion, until the sodden thought runs through him—he misses you.
Instead of leaving such a great revelation to something as gambable as fate, he decides to go to the source. He takes his usual seat in the secluded corner, scribbles down a few words on a note, and waits. He half-stands each time when someone enters the dim corridor made of books, only to retreat, deeming it the wrong section.
Until someone’s shuffling feet walk timidly between the bookshelves. Lips sucked between teeth, hand tracing the spines, and, finally, a disappointed sigh.
And he can’t help himself when he asks, “Is something the matter?”
“Oh,” you startle, glancing toward him. You instinctively step back, your gaze briefly dropping before meeting his. "Viktor, I did not see you there," you say, a nervous smile tugging at the corners of your lips, as if you've been caught in the act. “Uh, have you by any chance seen that one old textbook on mechanical theory?”
That’s it, Viktor thinks. He almost says too much, because oh, your voice is sweet and you... you are so heart-wrenchingly pretty, he has no idea what he’s done to deserve such kind fate. But he wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t test the theory first.
“Sadly, no.” Viktor puts on a schooled pout, shaking his head and taking a step toward you. “I have been hoping to find it too, but it has been rented out some time ago.”
“Oh—” you say, your brow furrowing slightly. Trying not to give away that you’ve already picked up whatever Viktor has put down and are currently playing with it in your hands, you ask innocently, “What’s… what’s your interest in it?”
Another step. "Other than me being an engineer myself?" Viktor’s lips twitch slightly, a trace of a smile. "I have a..." he says, slowly extending his hand toward yours, fingers brushing as he slips you a tiny piece of paper, "personal relationship with it, in a manner of speaking."
You stare at him for a long moment before unwrapping the paper tube.
I missed our talks. V.
“It’s you,” you whisper into the note. “Oh, I was hoping it would be you,” you whisper again, louder and breathy, clutching the sheet to your chest. When his brows furrow in question, you explain, “Your handwriting—it’s very neat. I’ve seen it once or twice and, uh… it got my attention.”
He smiles, and there is a ghost of blush dusting his cheeks. “Would you… be willing to participate in some verbal conversation from now on then?” Viktor asks, leaning into your ear. It’s a library, after all.
You breathe a soft, airy yes, and your lips brush against his cheek, the touch lingering there, leaving warmth behind. He pulls back slowly, breath held up. He licks his lips, eyes scanning your face, seeking. He’s been so far all this time, now closer than ever, and the space between you, even though small, is charged, taut like a bowstring.
Your hands meet, and his fingers weave through yours, long enough to reach your wrist. He hooks his cane onto a nearby shelf, its gentle clang against the wood unnoticed by either of you, and presses his forehead to yours, his warmth seeping into you.
"I missed you too," you murmur, the words clinging to the air between you. Your lips brush against his, just the lightest touch—an accident, or perhaps not. But Viktor’s lips press back with a soft, almost apologetic insistence, as though he’d waited for you far too long.
His mouth moves against yours with purpose, slow at first but hungry, needy. His breath quickens, deepens in tandem with yours. He steps closer, crowding you against the bookshelf, the hard wood pressing into your back as he leans into you. You arch into him, your fingers tightening around his hand, pulling him closer. His body is warm against yours, and the kiss deepens—faster, more urgent, the world around you fading to nothing.
And oh, just as your conversations on paper, the conversation between your tongues is seamless. They smooth over each other, pushing in when the other retreats and retreating when the other demands access.
Viktor’s hand moves to your waist, firm, gentle, and before you can think of resisting, he’s pressing you harder into the bookends. The coolness of the wood bites into your back, but it’s quickly forgotten as his body crowds you, a wall of heat and taut sinew and bone.
Mouth on mouth, insistent, with his teeth gently scraping over your lower lip, Viktor drowns in the sounds you make, guides your hands into his hair, and groans when you pull at his nape. You can feel the weight of him, the hard edge of his cane still wedged against the shelf beside you, but it matters not, as truly, neither of you is lonely anymore.
His lips break from yours as he presses his forehead to yours, both of you gasping for breath.
“That’s not a verbal conversation,” Viktor murmurs, his voice hoarse, as if the words themselves are a struggle. There’s a trace of a smile in his tone, but it’s swallowed quickly as you crane your neck to steal another kiss. Between smacks and bites, he mutters again, “You sure are very brilliant at pattern recognition.”
“Thank you, I have been obsessing over it for quite some time,” you mumble back, fisting his shirt. “I just didn’t expect the answer, of all places, to be at the end of a mechanical engineering textbook.”
“Thank gods I read from cover to cover,” Viktor smiles and sinks his lips back onto yours.
#my writing#viktor arcane#viktor fanfic#viktor x reader#viktor x gn!reader#viktor x f!reader#viktor x oc#viktor x reader fluff#arcane#arcane fanfic#ao3#ao3 fanfic#viktor nation#requests
254 notes
·
View notes
Text
Almost Over You | Joe Burrow
summary: It happened suddenly, you and Joe had broken up and you never understood exactly how it happened. All you know is that his ex-girlfriend was brought up and an argument started leaving to you being heartbroken. Your friends swore to you that they would stop at nothing until you got over your ex-boyfriend, but what if that's harder than you think?
Pairing: Joe Burrow (Bengals/NFL) x Fem! Reader (Joe Burrow x You)
Requested: Yes | No
Warning(s): mentions of heartbreak and breaking up, mentions of Joe x Olivia, mentions of alcohol.
Little note from me: This is the first time I have ever written for Joe Burrow. I usually write for Tee Higgins and Josh Allen. I wanted to give Joe a try because he is starting to grow on me a little bit. I may end up making a part 2 to this if I feel like it. Also I started writing this in Y/N format and then I switched to "You" after like the second paragraph lol. *gif not mine*
Word Count (lyrics not included): 4.5k
*Not Edited*
I also hate how I ended this. I need to work on the ending of my stories but I will work on getting better. May be a part 2 later... I haven't decided yet!
I've stopped looking for your truck, every time I go somewhere I don't scroll through the past anymore 'cause I don't care I'm finally putting on the shirt I like, tight jeans, big hoops with my hair up high. The least you could've done was give me the bar tonight.
Y/N browsed her outfits that she had brought over to her friends house. Her and her girls were having a girls night and going to the bar to let loose and have fun. It happened to be her best friends idea, mainly because she had been struggling to get over a recent breakup. Y/BFF/N had insisted that he wasn’t worth it and that she was going to get you over him one way or another.
“Let me do your hair, Y/N!” One of the girls in your group spoke up. She was the hairstylist and makeup guru of the group, so she was the designated hair and makeup artist for the friend groups and any events that they attended. “I’ll fix your makeup too.”
Y/N knew arguing would be pointless, so she sat down in the vanity chair and let her hair artist friend have at it. “I need help picking an outfit.” She spoke up looking towards her best friend while the other friend continued doing her hair. “I’m torn between the three on the bed.” She added pointing to the three outfits.
In less than 20 minutes, her hair was done and makeup was touched up. Her best friend had left her choice on the bed before finishing getting ready and making everyone a pregame shot before heading to the bar. She was finishing pulling up her jeans when her friends came in with two trays of shots.
“I’m not sure about this outfit.” Y/N spoke up. She usually wasn’t one to feel insecure, but looking at herself dressed in a pair of tight skinny jeans and a blouse, both of them not belonging to her, made her self conscious. “Why didn’t you pick one of my outfits?” She asked her best friend turning around.
“Girl, you look hot!” She replied not answering your question at first. “You’re freshly single, so we’re gonna act like it today.” She added picking up a shot and handing it to you.
You hesitantly grabbed the alcohol before glancing around the group of girls you loved so much. They were your best friends and you would do anything for them and they would do anything for you. “To Y/N, for finally taking a large step in getting over the dick.”
“Cheers to that.” The other girls replied before downing the shot.
“Don’t call him that.” You spoke up softly hating the way her comment made you feel. The night you two broke up was still a blur and was anything but easy for you. More than likely you had blacked it out due to heartbreak, but still it lingered in your mind.
“Honey, he had his hooks sunk deep in you. So deep that you literally wouldn’t even walk into a shop, restaurant, or anything if you noticed a vehicle that looked like his.” Y/BFF/N reminded you as you threw back your shot in hopes of forgetting about Joe tonight. Your ultimate goal was to finally and fully move on, to get over Joe tonight.
After a couple more shots, the girls were heading to their favorite bar. Which just so happened to be the bar that Y/N and Joe always went to together.
Why'd you have to come back in right then right when I was just getting good and gone? 'Cause I was in the wrong place at the wrong time You must've heard I was moving on, Then right out of the blue a quarter past two, I'm all about you. When I was just about, just about over you.
The girls had gotten to the bar around 11:45 or midnight. It was officially 1:42 and Y/N was letting loose. She felt the best she had in forever and to her, it had nothing to do with the guy that she was practically grinding against. The alcohol in her system made her feel a bit more easy-going and less paranoid of running into “he-who-should-not-be-named” at their bar.
The loud pounding music came to a halt and was replaced with a slower song causing you to turn around and face to mystery bar guy. You weren’t one to just go and have hook-ups with anyone or randomly show pda to guys you didn’t know. In a plan to get over someone… it felt almost right to do it that way.
“You want to get out of here?” The mystery guy asked seductively trying to keep you enticed with him.
You gave him a look before your eyes caught a group of men walking in together. Your blood ran cold, face turning pale as you seen the familiar dirty blonde locks and perfect smile of your ex-boyfriend. You took a chance to catch your breath when you moved your eyes over and caught Jamarr and Tee already noticing you. You had been close with a few of Joe’s teammates seeing as you were together for a bit.
Jamarr gave you a quick nod of greeting before avoiding your gaze and Tee flashed you his smile before heading to an area with the boys. “I have to go.” You told the mystery man before leaving towards your group of girls. You were hoping that you could convince your girls to leave and do this another night. Maybe you could fake sick and go home by uber, you weren’t sure what your whole plan was, but you knew something would have to go down to leave.
Once you reached your group of girls, who were either occupied with boys/girls or chatting with each other while drinking, you put on your best sick face. “Hey, I’m not feeling the best… I think it’s best if I uber home.”
Your hairdresser best friend gave you a saddened look believing the story that was being told. “Bullshit.” Y/BFF/N spoke up crossing her arms. “I noticed him walk in with his groupies.” She responded raising an eyebrow in your direction.
You shrugged not really caring if she noticed him, “I’m not in the mood to deal with this tonight.”
“Y/N, you are not leaving. I promised you that I would help you get over him and with that promise it means not letting you leave all because he came into this bar.” Your best friend stated. With her tone of voice, you knew it was pointless to even argue with her.
“Isn’t it weird that he showed up after you were fixing to go home with some guy?” Another one of the girls in your group spoke up.
“I was not going home with that guy.” You objected crossing your arms over yourself feeling a bit uncomfortable. “That’s not who I am.”
“Maybe that’s what you need for one night.” Another spoke up causing you to roll your eyes.
You shook your head in disbelief at your friends, “I’m getting another drink.” You mumbled before turning and making your way to the bar. Last call would be announced within the next fifteen minutes, and you were not waiting until then.
You could've stayed with the guys, acting like you didn't see me It would've hurt a little less if you'd bought some girl a drink but you had to walk up, messing me up I'm drunk, wondering why it's gotta be like this I thought I was moving on, but now I'm starting back over again.
After another drink and a shot, you had simply ordered a glass of red wine. You were already feeling the effects of the alcohol and you were worried that you would do something stupid if you ordered anything other than wine. Part of your friend group had gone home with whoever they had met here, no doubt going to have a fun night. Your best friend and one other girl were the only ones that were left of your group besides you.
“Can I get another round for our table back there?” His voice spoke up causing a chill to run down your back. You hadn’t heard that voice since the night that it ended. Without paying him any attention, you picked up your glass and took a drink of the crimson liquid. It was easier to pretend that he wasn’t there instead of trying to make everything weird. Joe seemed to have different plans, “Hey, I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.” He mumbled as he sat down on the seat next to you.
“I was hoping I wouldn’t see you.” He would never admit it, but your reply felt like a knife. He knew that the whole breakup should had been dealt with sooner and talked about. If not to fix it, then to at least to make it less messy.
Joe chose to ignore your blunt reply as he waited on their final tray of drinks, “How have you been?” he asked carefully knowing that it hadn’t been easy for him. He would never admit that to you unless you asked him yourself.
“Why are you doing this?” You asked. Finally, you turned to face him noticing the stubble that adorned his face compared to his usual clean-shaven self. There was no point in answering his question because you had not felt your best since your last night with him. “You could have avoided me and let me heal.” You added taking another sip of win after.
Joe looked exhausted; anyone could tell. You had heard that they were currently not playing their best even if you refused to watch the games. You were his problem, not that he blamed you. He blew up for no reason, mainly due to stress and you felt as if it was a personal attack. “I didn’t mean what I said that night.” He told you. Even if you wanted him to leave you alone, he just knew he had to tell you what he felt after that night. “When you brought up my past… it never compared to us. She never meant as much to me as you did, I get that I was with her longer, but it wasn’t the same.”
You shrugged trying your best to act like you didn’t care. “I am not talking about this.” You shook your head before finishing off your glass of wine. “If we’re being honest, I shouldn’t have brought up Olivia, but that’s all I’m going to say.” You added before standing up from your seat. You needed to get back to your best friend before your body decided to fully give in to the handsome quarterback right next to you.
“Y/N don’t do this. Let me in and let’s talk about this.” Joe practically begged as he stood up quickly noticing that you were trying to make your escape. The look on your face was unreadable, why was Joe begging you to talk about it? What would it help and why was it such a big deal to him?
“Joe, you ended it. I don’t owe you anything.” You whispered as you pushed back tears not wanting them to surface. You were beginning to feel defeated because your heart and your body yearned for the man in front of you.
“Y/N… please.” He pleaded one last time in a whisper, in the same way that you had answered him. Before you could say anything, the bartender placed the tray of drinks down giving you the chance to get away from Joe before he could continue begging you and you gave in.
maybe you caught me on a bad night maybe tomorrow I'll be just fine maybe it's the red wine that put you back in my mind
Final call had happened at 2:30, but the bar was still alive with drunk couples, singles, and others. Your best friend had told you that she was going home with the guy that she had been with all night, only she was staying with you until you wanted to leave. Truth be told, she was probably just trying to ensure that you would stay away from Joe the rest of the night.
“I’m going to the restroom and then I’ll head home.” You promised your best friend before pulling her into a hug.
Once you two pulled away she gave you a small smile, “want me to wait for you?” she offered.
You didn’t miss the eye roll from the guy that she was going home with. You internally scoffed and rolled your eyes at the guy who wanted inside your best friends pants before returning the smile, “No, I’ll be fine. Just be careful on your way home.”
Your bestie nodded before giving you a knowing look, “There’s plenty of people still here. I think you should reconsider what I told you earlier.” She added before locking arms with the guy beside her. You rolled your eyes and shook your head, “If you change your mind you have to let me know.” She teased before blowing a kiss and turned to head out with the man that she had met tonight.
You turned around and grabbed your wristlet before making your way towards the bathroom. In all seriousness you were more than ready to go home, you had been since your conversation with Joe. However, it still made Joe stay in your mind. Flashbacks from the relationship played over and over again. Whether you wanted to admit it or not, Joe Burrow was a huge green flag when you’re in a relationship with him. He may act cocky or arrogant sometimes, but most of the time it’s to hide how he is truly feeling.
Even if he was a green flag, you still argued some but it wasn’t often. The night you broke up was the only big fight that you had experienced in that relationship. Why did the relationship break after one fight? You just guessed that your relationship was not strong enough to last.
After you finished in the bathroom you exited (after washing your hands of course) and got on your phone so you could order an Uber for the ride home. You knew it was a bad idea for you girl’s to ride together, but no one disagreed and you weren’t going to be the first one to object.
“Really? 25 minutes.” You huffed as you leaned against the hallway leading to the bathroom. You wanted to be away from the crowds and try to catch a ride back to your place. “Why did I agree to do this tonight?” you mumbled placing your phone back in your pocket after seeing the wait time.
“Are you okay?” a familiar voice spoke up. You looked towards the dimly lit hallway and noticed the guy that you had been dancing with before Joe came in. You had been hoping that he had already went home because you didn’t want to see him again either. “I heard you huffing.” He mentioned with a half smile forming on his face.
You nodded assuring him that you were fine, “Yeah. Just waiting for my ride.” You lied knowing good and well that you didn’t order that Uber that was going to take almost half an hour.
He nodded, “I could take you home if you’re getting inpatient.” He offered hoping that you would accept his invite.
Your body was overcome with a feeling of dread when you looked into his eyes. You weren’t sure why, mainly because he had been a nice guy earlier. Thinking back, maybe you missed this feeling because of the alcohol and then the fact that you noticed your ex before you could process the guy in front of you.
You shook your head forcing a fake smile, “No it’s fine. My ride will be here very soon and I don’t want to leave them hanging.” You lied again in hopes that it was believable.
“Come on.” He urged walking closer and leaning against the wall next to you.
You opened your mouth to object before a voice beat you to it, “Babe, what’s taking so long?” Joe’s voice rang out down the hallway as footsteps were heard getting closer to you. The mental relief you felt hearing his voice was unreal. No matter how much you didn’t want to be around him, you always knew that you were safe with him.
“I was just talking to a friend.” You lied knowing that Joe could hear the hesitation in your voice and he definitely noticed your body language. Your body relaxed once you felt his familiar embrace around you.
“Babe?” The mystery guy from early asked glancing between the two. It was obvious that many people in Cincinatti knew who Joe was, the guy in front of you especially. “You should be aware that your girlfriend lead me on earlier.” He told Joe causing you to tense.
Joe’s grip around you tightened, probably not liking the chance of you going home with you before he got there. “Well, I’m sure whatever she was doing earlier was just for fun. No strings attached just innocent fun.” Joe muttered making sure to get his point across.
“Whatever.” The guy mumbled before eyeing you one more time before stepping around the two of you and leaving the hallway.
You let out a sigh of relief once he was officially out of hearing range, “Thank you.” you mumbled pulling yourself out of his arms. It didn’t take long for you to miss the feeling of him around you, it felt like home. It felt safe.
Joe shook his head, “Don’t thank me.” He replied noticing how you were calming down now that you were alone. “Was that the guy you were with when I got here?”
Even though Joe asked, you felt as if he already knew the answer. You just weren’t sure if it was from his comment or if he actually caught you. “How did you… Jamarr and Tee.” You sighed knowing that they told Joe about seeing you with him.
Joe shook his head, “I actually noticed you first.” He denied your allegations. “I made a comment about the guy you were with which is what made the guys notice you.” He shrugged acting like his comment meant nothing.
If you were honest, you felt giddy knowing that Joe was looking at you first before you even noticed him.
why'd you have to come back in right then right when I was just getting good and gone? guess I was in the wrong place at the wrong time you must've heard I was moving on then right out of the blue a quarter past two, I'm all about you when I was just about, just about over you. I was just about over you.
You knew that you were going to regret this. It was the biggest mistake and was what your best friend was trying to get you over. The only thing was that you could not argue with how right it felt to be sitting in the passenger seat of Joe’s vehicle. You had accepted a ride home instead of ordering an Uber late, and it didn’t help that the mystery guy from the bar was lounging around almost like he was waiting to see if you were with Joe for real. After feeling uneasy noticing the guy looking at you while you went and visited with your old friends for a moment, Joe secretly proposed for you to stay with him for the night. Just to ensure that you were safe until daylight. Being unsure of the bar and going home alone, you agreed.
How did you get yourself in this situation though? You promised yourself that this would be the night that you got over Joe, however you felt as if all your progress was thrown out the window. You truly loved Joe and a part of you always would. He was the first person that you truly loved, which is why you knew apart of you would always belong to Joe. You were moving on the best you could, and you were sure that you could have gotten over him. Maybe there was a reason why it wasn’t tonight? Maybe it was protection from someone or something, but all you knew was that sitting in his car made it real that you would in no way be over him.
“Do you need anything?” He asked more than likely referring to medicine or water due to the alcohol consumption tonight. You shook your head feeling more sober than ever. The house was so familiar, and a warm feeling came over you being back in his home. “I’ll get you a change of clothes before we head to bed.” He mentioned shooting you a small smile before walking towards his room. The room you used to basically live in when you were together.
Without waiting for him to call you, you carefully made your way into his bedroom seeing him lay out the clothes on the bed. “Can I shower before we head to bed?” You asked softly hoping you wouldn’t scare him.
Joe nodded, “You don’t have to ask.” He mumbled picking up the clothes he sat on the bed and handed them to you.
You silently thanked him before heading to his private bathroom and locking the door behind you. You knew where he kept his towels and everything so there was no need to make him get everything ready for you. You let the water run for a moment to get warm before stripping your clothes and getting into the shower. You sighed feeling the heat soothing your tense muscles due to the stress you were under tonight. You were trying to rack your brain over every event that happened tonight before noticing the array of products in Joe’s shower caddy.
Everything you used sat untouched in the corner. Your shampoo, conditioner, exfoliating scrub, shaving items, body wash, and skincare. Everything that you had left here was sitting there looking untouched due to how little you had used them. You had just restocked before you two broke up, meaning that you never wanted to face him to get those items back. You just went out and bought new ones because it was easier… emotionally.
Instead of crying due to your relationship being over, you pushed it out of your mind and finished showering. You knew how Joe was, and he wouldn’t go to bed until you got out of the shower. Once doing your skincare and haircare, you got out and dried off and got dressed. You gave yourself a once over in the mirror, noticing that Joe gave you his favorite shirt of his and a pair of bengals shorts that he had gotten you. You remember him saying, “If you’re going to be my girl, we might as well give you some gear.” You smiled at the memory before cleaning up the bathroom and heading out to Joe’s room.
You’d be lying if you said that seeing him lying on his bed in only shorts was a turn off. He was definitely the best-looking guy you have ever seen in your life, there was no doubt about it. The sound of your footsteps caused Joe to lock his phone and turn his attention towards you.
“Do you need anything before I head to the guest room?” He asked softly getting out of his bed. He waited to see if you needed anything because he knew that you usually had to rack your brain over your nighttime routine.
“You don’t have to go to your guest bed. I’m not taking your bed.” You refused even if you secretly wanted his bed. What could you say? It was so comfortable to the point to where you wanted it in your apartment. “I can sleep in the guest room.” You knew he would deny but it was worth a shot.
Joe refused, “You know I never let you sleep in the guest room.” He reminded even though she knew. She had practically moved in with him so when they argued, Joe would start the nights in the guest bed and weasel his way back into his bed with you. That’s just how the two of them were in their relationship.
Instead of playing the back-and-forth game you sat down on the bed and gestured for him to join you. “Can I ask what the real reason is that you are doing this?” You asked softly as you felt the bed dip with his weight, only he was sitting in front of you. “You don’t owe me anything, Joe.” You assured so he didn’t feel as though he owed a debt to you.
“I know.” He replied, “actually I do owe you an apology. I’m sorry about that night, I was stressed about the game, and I took it out on you.” He apologized.
You gave him a small smile in return, “I think we both said some things that we regret that night.” You whispered worried that everything would come crashing down.
“I love you, Y/N.” Joe admitted softly his hand coming up to your neck. “I’ll never stop no matter what happens.” He added in a whisper to not spook you too much.
You bet your lip trying to keep from tearing up at his words. For the last three months you had been wanting to hear those words come out of his mouth, yet it was surreal to actually hear them.
“I was trying so hard to get over you.” You whispered out, a crack in your voice that did not go unnoticed by Joe. “I still love you so much and it kills me every day.” You added full of emotion due to staring into the blue eyes that you loved so much.
Staring into Joe’s eyes, you felt the walls that you had built the last three months come falling down. You promised yourself that you would get over him and never fall back into his arms, yet you weren’t going to stop. You knew that even if you two never got back together officially that you would always be safe and have a home around Joe. Your heart would always be his no matter what.
Instead of overthinking and thinking of the worse possible outcomes, you decided to finally do what your heart and body have been craving. In one quick motion, you had your hands on the back of his neck and pushed your lips on his. It didn’t take him but a second to start kissing you back because it was clear that he had missed you all the same.
You sighed in content at the kiss, causing Joe to apply a bit of pressure to where his hand was resting on your neck. You could feel the want for him building up, wanting the two of you to make up for lost time. You were unsure of how far you would go but being in his arms, at least for one more night was something that you were okay with.
It was safe to say that you two did in fact make up for the lost time that was three months. You had texted your best friend telling her that you took her advice about going home with a “nice” guy from the club and that he was full of “green flags”. She was beyond excited wanting to know the details, which you would give her without letting her know that it was indeed your ex.
Joe woke up the next morning thinking everything would go back to normal. You two had talked a bit, had makeup sex, and even cuddled to sleep. He woke up to an opposing reality, which made him question if you were ever really there. You had left early, not knowing what it meant for you two. Not wanting to have another intimate conversation, you ran saving it for another day.
Joe’s clothes laying on the end of the bed told him that it wasn’t a dream. You were in fact with him last night and he wasn’t just lost in a drunken dream. Joe knew after last night; he would not be letting you go as easy as he did before. No matter how upset and angry he was, he was going to find you and make you his again. He was sure of it.
#imagines#nfl imagine#nfl fandom#nfl player x reader#requests are open#imagine requests#joe burrow#joe burrow imagine#joe burrow bengals#joe burrow x y/n#joe burrow x reader#joe burrow x you#joe burrow x oc#joeyb#SoundCloud#Spotify
493 notes
·
View notes
Text
Yandere! Platonic! Batfam x Mermaid! Reader
Pt.2
A/N: Don't know why I've been back into stuff lately. It must be that May, and the end of school is approaching. Also, let me know if you want a part two.
As much as you loved your family, they were a tad bit overprotective for your tastes. Sometimes, it felt like you were suffocating or about to have your hands attached to a headboard. Other days, they were the best brothers and father you could imagine. Today was the former.
“Oh come on, it’s one party! I can’t go out for that!” You yell, taking off your school’s uniform jacket.
“Not without a chaperone,” Bruce sternly says, making you frustrated.
“No fair! You let Tim and Damian go out by themselves. Besides, who am I going to have as a chaperone? Tim? He wasn’t even invited!” You respond, walking to the stairs. “Damian’s too young, Dick’s too…him, Jason’s off putting, and you’re entirely too old!”
“Well, since there’s no chaperone available, I guess you can’t go.”
“Unbelievable.”
“We can all watch a nice movie together, plus Alfred is making snacks."
"I'd rather watch Netflix on my phone."
You storm into your room, collapsing on the bed, and look through the social media pages of your peers. Everyone else had a life but you. You got to go to the occasional gala and have a birthday party with a couple of your friends or your brother's friends, and that's about it. For what it was worth, you would've been better off living with your mama down south in Georgia and only having Bruce support you financially.
"Y/N, are you up?" Dick asks, knocking on your door.
"Yes...what do you want?" You reply, squinting at the door.
"I know how much you like your school friends, so I disabled the security systems. You've got ten minutes until Bruce finds a way to turn it back on," Dick responds, walking away from your door.
You jump out of bed, throw on your best party clothes, and leap out of your bedroom window. You make your escape through the nearby woods and call your friends to pick you up outside the gas station.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Oh my God, I'm so glad you could make it," Your best friend squeals, hugging you tightly as you two wander through the woods.
"Yeah. I decided to be bad for once and sneak out," You respond, grabbing a red cup. "Damn, what's in this?"
"Jungle Juice."
"Ew! The fuck?!"
"I know, right. Come on, they finally listened to some of us partygoers and got us some daiquiris."
As the night went on, you felt yourself loosen up. Soon, you were drunkenly wandering through the woods after a dare by your friends, only to feel yourself sliding down into a dark place. When you open your eyes, you see yourself in a cave with a pool of water in front of you. You look at the blinding moonlight pointing at the water and jump into it because you were hot as hell from all the partying.
"Fuck, now how am I get back to the party? There's no way I'm letting Wilson win this dare," You slur, not noticing the sparkles around your body. "I guess I have no option but to swim out."
You take a deep breath, swim up to the surface of a nearby lake, then scream with joy as you see your friends.
"Yo! She's alive!"
"How did you get in there, girl?"
"Best party ever!"
You climb out of the water and are immediately welcomed by your peers as they carry you around. Or at least that was the case until you saw your father's car on the dirt.
"Y/N, get in the car!" Jason screams, stomping out of Bruce's black Mercedes.
"Shit," You curse, feeling yourself getting put down. "Jason, really?"
"Yes, really. Did you think we wouldn't find out? Or did you think we wouldn't know Dick helped you escape? We were looking for you for hours!" Jason exclaims, dragging you into the backseat and locking the door.
The car ride home was full of tension and silence. When Bruce pulled into the driveway, the car doors remained locked.
"Y/N, look at you. I told you you needed a chaperone, and look what happened. You're drunk, soaking wet, and could've been taken advantage of. You're grounded, your phone privileges are getting severely limited, and you can't go out anywhere without me or one of your brothers," Bruce says, looking at your face with ruined makeup.\
You hear the car doors unlock and pull the handle.
"I wish I could live with mom," You mumble, walking out of the car.
"Miss Y/N, what happened to you?" Alfred asks, looking at your wet body.
"An interrupted fun time," You grumble, going up to your room and into your personal bathroom.
You dry off and change into some comfortable pajamas, retreating into the covers of your bed. You turn towards your window and see bars installed, stopping you from ever opening the window again.
"Welp, there goes my source of fresh air," You remark, choosing to go to sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~
When you wake up, you stumble into the bathroom, stripping your pajamas as the shower gets hot. When you step inside, you feel water and sparkles cover your entire body before you, thankfully, fall onto the built-in shower bench. You look at your body, seeing a large orange tail and a matching scale bra.
"What the fuck?" You whisper, staring at your tail. "Wait, how do I get out of the shower? How do I wash the bottom half of myself?"
You move your hands along the wall, careful to not fall from your tail, and press the glass door of your shower. You fall onto the floor, hands first, and slither to your phone on the sink counter.
"Y/N, breakfast!" Tim exclaims, walking into your room.
"I'm taking a shower," You yell, grabbing your phone and opening the camera app.
"Ok! I'll let Bruce know you'll be late."
After a couple of minutes on the ground, your legs come back and you stand up. You get dressed, walking downstairs extra normally so no one suspects anything is wrong. You sit at the table, grabbing a plate and filling it up with food.
"Y/N, how did you sleep?" Damian asks, watching you eat.
"It was fine. I swear I saw someone who was at least five feet tall staring at me from the corner of my room," You remark, silently cutting into your French toast. "Pass the orange juice, please, Dick."
Dick pours you a glass of orange juice and as you grab it, the liquid spills onto your hand and wrist. You and Dick scramble for paper napkins but it's too late. Water covers your body, and suddenly you're a mermaid in front of your family. Everyone is looking at you, their eyes as wide as can be.
"Don't look at me like I know what's going on, this is new for me too," You comment, slouching in the chair.
~~~~~~~~~~~
"What do we do with her?"
"I don't know, Dick. Maybe we should keep her in a tank?"
"Wha-no! She obviously has legs! Besides, how is she going to eat?"
"Maybe she can eat fish?"
"Fuck, no, Damian."
"Well I'm fresh out of fucking ideas!"
"Enough! I'm taking your sister to S.T.A.R. Labs."
Bruce walks out of his office with your brothers, and they look at your legs.
"We'll help you into the car. Try not to touch anything," Tim says, grabbing your arms while Jason grabs your legs.
The car ride to S.T.A.R. Labs is silent, and the worst part is that you forgot to charge your phone. Instead, you had to rely on looking out the window for your cure to boredom.
"Don't worry, Y/N. We'll get you fixed up," Dick says, squeezing your hand. "We're here, so try not to panic."
Before you even have a chance to grab your purse, the scientists rush you into a wheelchair, taking you into a lab with your family following closely behind.
"Ok, we're going to hook you up to some medical equipment to monitor your vitals. You're just going to feel a little pinch," The doctor says, sticking a needle in your arm.
"Ow!" You exclaim, closing your eyes from the pain.
"Ok, don't be alarmed. You're just going to numb your thigh for a small scrape biopsy so we can know what's going on," A nurse states, wiping your leg down so the skin is numb.
The doctor takes out a razor blade and scrapes off a small section of your thigh, putting it under a microscope.
"Spray the water," The doctor commands, grabbing spray bottles and handing them to his staff.
"What the fuck? Hey!" You exclaim, feeling the medical team spray water all over your body.
You transform into a mermaid, and the room goes silent. The doctor sprays some water on the sample from your thigh and is amazed when it turns into a scale.
"Incredible," He gasps, looking at the microscope.
"Can you figure out why she's...turning into a mermaid?" Bruce asks, watching the assistants pat your tail dry.
"Unfortunately, no. It'd be one thing if she were a metahuman, but considering we all saw the sparkles, you might need to find someone who deals with magic to figure out why she's a mermaid in the first place. We can only help determine what causes her transformations and whether or not her biology, aside from her legs and chest, has changed when she's a mermaid." The doctor explains, making Bruce sigh.
"Ok," Bruce replies, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Is she in any pain when she transforms?"
"I'm fine when I'm not falling on my ass cus I suddenly don't have legs," You comment, making Bruce turn and look at you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
For an entire hour, you were stuck in S.T.A.R. Lab surrounded by doctors as they sprayed and rubbed different substances all over your body to see if it would get a reaction.
"Alright, little missy, we're done. My team will take you back to your family after they're done drying you off. In the meantime, I will be talking to your father," The doctor says, walking out of the lab with a thick stack of papers on a clipboard.
When the doctor walks into the waiting room, your family immediately stands up and starts asking questions.
"Ok, ok, calm down. She'll only transform if anything containing 32% or more water touches her," The doctor says, making your family even more worried. "She also has ten seconds upon touching any substance with 32% or more water before she transforms."
"How is she going to bathe herself? How is she even going to drink anything? Hell, how is she even going to be able to eat fruit and vegetables? Those have a high water content, you know," Tim frantically questions, looking up all the things that contain 32% or more water. "She basically can't even go out into the world!"
"This is a catastrophe! What if it suddenly starts raining and she doesn't have an umbrella? What if-what if-oh my god, what if someone forcibly transforms her into a mermaid so she can't run away and kidnaps her?" Dick questions, feeding into the collective worry and paranoia.
"Calm down, I'll be fine," You say, getting up and walking to your family. "Can we get some food? I'm starving."
"Sure. Jason, take your sister to the car. I'll talk to Doctor Hayes for a little longer," Bruce says, giving Jason the keys to the car. "And please be careful of your surroundings."
Jason escorts you out to the car, and you sit in your usual spot in the backseat.
~~~~~~~~~~~
"So, who's it going to be, Bruce? Constantine, Zatanna, or Aquaman?" Dick teases, standing over Bruce with his head on his desk.
"Dick, not now. I'm trying to figure out what I'm going to do with your sister now that she has this...affliction," Bruce groans, emailing the Gotham Academy principal to ask about taking you out of school. "Besides, I already called all three of them and they said they'd meet with our family tomorrow."
"Why don't we keep Y/N in the house? We can be on rotation to make sure someone's always close in case she needs us. Plus, we have pools and a lake if she ever wants to swim," Dick suggests, looking at the monitor with the camera footage of your room. "Besides, look at how cute our little Y/N is sipping on her slushie in her room. She'll like being in this mansion way more than being outside."
"I thought Jason got her a regular drink with no ice because he didn't want any condensation on her hands?" Bruce asks, watching you sip from the clear plastic cup.
"Now that you mention it, we all saw her walk into the house with liquid clearly in the cup. How did she get it to be a slushie?" Dick ponders, zooming in on your drink only to catch a piece levitate into the air and off screen.
"The hell?" Bruce exclaims, zooming out to see you chewing on the small piece of slushy.
#yandere batfam#yandere batboys#platonic yandere#damian wayne#bruce wayne#dick grayson#jason todd#tim drake#mermaid! reader#sanyuthewitch05
186 notes
·
View notes
Note
Have you ever thought about ghost!Agatha x reader? Like reader has a guest, or even someone to make Agatha jealous, over, and Agatha is feeling possessive so she teases reader through her clothes, and reader has to act completely normal or even has to excuse herself from the conversation at some point. The guest has no idea because they don't know Agatha haunts the house so they go check on reader to see if she's okay, and finds her in a compromising position..
Honestly I've recently been obsessed with this idea and need to share it. But like the idea is kinda hot, and please do feel pressure to do this.
Yessss I've been thinking about ghost!agatha quite a bit recently and I'd like to write a full fic at some point when I get time but I thought I'd leave everyone with some thoughts about it in the meantime (this basically became a fic in bullet points whoops)
The house is very below market value, even compared to the neighboring homes, and you ask your realtor what that's about. She replies that people think it's haunted and there's been several ghost sightings there over the years, but it's cheap and when you walk through, it doesn't seem haunted so you put in an offer. Even though it's under the asking price, the couple selling it immediately accepts and you move in a week later
Everything is fine for the most part for the first two weeks. There's sometimes the sensation that you're being watched and you swear that things end up in places they shouldn't be, but you just chalk it up as paranoia and superstition. You've been really lonely since moving into this big house all by yourself in a new city for work, so you're probably imagining company
Until you really can't ignore it any more—you hear creaking on the stairs and on the second floor that sounds exactly like footsteps, your keys end up in the bathtub, cups are knocked onto the floor that weren't anywhere near the edge of the counter
So on a drunken whim, you decide to hold a séance, mostly out of mere curiosity. You don't think it'll actually work, maybe you're actually just going crazy, but it seems like a good idea at the time
Turns out, you're not going crazy because the second you begin to chant the incantation you found on the WikiHow page for séances, you hear someone say "Boo." You open your eyes, scared out of your mind, to find a ghost sitting criss-cross on the other side of the candles, watching you amusedly. She has long silvery hair, a wide grin, and a long dress with an outer coat. Although she's transparent, she is distinctly purple. You hate that your first thought is can ghosts be attractive?
You and the ghost end up talking a lot that night. She tells you that her name is Agatha Harkness and she became trapped in this house after she was killed by a jilted lover. You figure there's more to the story because of the guarded look on her face, but you don't press. In turn, you tell her about moving to the new city all by yourself for a new job and how your girlfriend didn't want to come with you so you decided to break it off. It's so nice to have someone to actually talk to that you don't even care if she's a ghost
Agatha shows you that she can touch things in the physical world if she tries really hard (hence why she kept knocking all your things over to get your attention) and she can turn invisible. You can't help but wondering if she's been watching you shower or when you masturbate and it makes your cheeks heat up. She gives you a knowing smirk and you hope she can't read your mind as well
She makes her presence known to you all the time, to the point where it's much more startling if you can't see her and she also confides that it's been awhile since she's had someone to talk to as well. The previous owners were boring, the ones before them had too many kids running around, but you—she says there's something about you that's different. You both become points of comfort to each other and you sometimes think that it's a bit concerning that your main source of contact with another person is a ghost, but then Agatha tosses her head back with a laugh at something you say and reaches over to pat your hand, the feeling cold but comforting, and you couldn't care less
Things start to develop into something a bit more when you're getting out of the shower one day and you realize that you forgot to bring a towel. You had done laundry and left them all on your bed so you hesitantly called out for Agatha and asked for her to bring you one. She did, but not before raking her eyes over your naked, wet body and then winking at you. You had to dry off more than just the water from the shower
That night, you decide to do some research on whether or not humans can have sex with ghosts. It's so fucking stupid and you're embarrassed to have typed those words into Google, but you're reading up on spectrophilia when Agatha pops up behind you, causing you to slam your laptop closed and jump practically a foot in the air. She smirks as she opens it and hums as she reads the page before she turns to you. You're about to die of humiliation when you see a glint of heat in her silvery-blue eyes.
You find out that night that humans can have sex with ghosts. It's a weird feeling at first to have her touching your clit with cold fingers that feel almost like jell-o but she makes you come nonetheless, mostly with her cooing mixture of praises and degradation. There isn't really a way for you to return the favor, but she hikes up her dress and touches herself, prompting you to masturbate along with her, and you both fall apart
When you're working at home on the weekends, she'll play with you while she's invisible. It's really hard to focus when you can feel her fingers teasing your clit and then sliding into your cunt (it always seems to be wet these days). Because she's a ghost, she can fuck you through your clothes with ease and not being able to see her almost adds to the pleasure. It heightens the sensations and you come moaning her name every time while you hear her chuckling in your ear
You finally make a few friends at your job and have them over to your house one night for dinner and you plead with Agatha to behave. The last thing you need is for your coworkers to think you're insane. You're all sitting at the table, joking and laughing, when your friend touches your wrist and smiles at you nicely before thanking you for the food. The hair on the back of your neck stands up and you can feel Agatha glaring at you and her
It's not even really a surprise then, when you feel a touch on your nipple. You have to bite back a moan when Agatha begins rolling it through your shirt and bra and with her other hand, draws her name over and over on your stomach until your cunt is dripping and you're trying not to squirm in your chair
Your friends are talking about your boss when Agatha finally teases your clit and you squeak and both of them look at you like you volunteered to say something. You splutter a few thoughts out, hoping Agatha will tone it down, but she presses harder and rubs fast and you have to start coughing to hide your moans
She finally slides two fingers into your wet and waiting cunt, making you choke on the sip of wine you took, and she curls them hard. Pleasure tingles through your pussy and up your spine and you're struggling not to rut against the chair but you can't help your hips from lightly rolling against her fingers and you just pray your friends don't notice
"Have you heard the rumors that this place is haunted?" one of your friends asks just as Agatha's thumb rubs at your clit and thrusts roughly inside you
You shaking your head, cheeks burning. "I think that's just a myth. Ghosts aren't real." You swear you can feel Agatha smirking and she fucks you even harder, like she's determined to get you to admit that ghosts are very much real, and in fact, you're being fucked by one right now
Just as you're about to come, Agatha stops and you bite your lip to keep from groaning in frustration. She waits a minute until you stop convulsing around her fingers to begin again, and she pinches your nipple with her other hand when she presses on your clit, but she keeps bringing you to the edge and not giving you any relief
So the second everyone finishes their food, you say, "Well, it's getting pretty late," in an attempt to get your friends to leave. They share a confused look but don't question it. You walk them to the door with shaky legs and slick on your upper thighs, and the second the door is closed behind them, you whirl around to find Agatha simpering like a kid in the candy store.
You're going to do research first thing in the morning to find out if it's possible for humans to touch ghosts. But in the meantime, you follow Agatha straight to your bedroom and she finally gives you the relief you need, and so much more
#agatha harkness x reader#agatha harkness x fem!reader#asks#agatha x reader#agatha x you#agatha harkness x you#agatha harkness smut#agatha smut
260 notes
·
View notes
Text



PREVIEW
a sneak peak at part one of THE ALCHEMY
pairing: will lenney x fem!reader
warnings & tags: friends to lovers. slowish burn. idiots with tension. also idiots in denial. lots of nerdy football talk + a side of willne.
summary: The two times you were recruited to play in the Sidemen charity match, and the one time you score.
a/n: hello!!! here’s a brief view of a two/three (?) part series i have in the works. it’s not perfect, but i’m much too excited to wait to publish the whole thing. please enjoy <3
…⚽️
The buzz that interrupted your sleep wasn’t what concerned you, it’s the fact that after you had hung up the first and second time, there was a third call. Begrudgingly, you toss your sheets aside and sit up eyeing the phone on the bedside table. To no surprise, it was Simon.
You were no stranger when it came to working with the Sidemen. Starting off as a crew member who was good with a camera, slowly you were incorporated into videos, and eventually had the confidence to create your own platform. After leaving the Sidemen to focus on building your solo career, most of your audience didn't know where you gained your footing, becoming a bigger public figure outside of their work.
Getting a phone call from Simon wasn't uncommon, needless to say. You were always ready to film, to bring in new ideas for them, to be on set. After all, you had been friends with the lads for years.
"Hello?" you croak, trying to smooth down the hair that was knotted in the back of your head.
"Y/n! How are you, mate?" Simon's voice was overly chipper and sweet, too sweet. You eye your phone for a moment before pressing it back up to your ear. It was too early in the morning for either of you to be awake.
"Christ, Simon, I know you aren't just calling me at seven in the morning to ask how I am," you replied. Simon sighs briefly before letting out an airy chuckle.
"Alright, I need to ask you for a favor." That's what you were expecting. His voice hesitant and low, it made you wonder what this could really be about.
"Okay, go on then," you yawn. You weren't sure why Simon was being so ominous; you had done the lad loads of favors in the past. Bringing in extra camera crew, reaching out to other influencers, helping plan out events-
"Would you sub in for Andres for the charity match next week? I know it's last minute, but he had other conflicts, and you're one of my best mates. You-" Simon rambles before you swiftly interject.
"Simon, what are you waffling on about? You can't be serious," you say seriously. The grogginess from waking up immediately disappears, and you begin to regret picking up the phone.
"I know it's mad, but we've tossed around a ball quite a bit before-"
"I haven't seriously played footy since I was in high school! I can't imagine the shit I'd get if I were to even step foot into that stadium."
"I know-"
"And I'm the only girl! That's like a misogynist's nightmare, a woman who can think and compete!" Getting on your feet, you pace around your room like a madman. Your free hand finds its way into your hair, coarsing through it multiple times, stressfully.
"Would you let me finish? Then you can decide if it's bollocks or not," Simon asked finally. You heave out a breath of air and then hum in response. The least you could do is give him time to try to convince you.
"Look, it's the first time a lot of them have played football, and some of them play like it's the first time. It's really about having a good time, " he explains, which admittedly puts some of your worries at ease- and gets a small laugh out of you.
"Also.." he says hesitantly, hitching his breath as he trails off. You roll your eyes and groan. Of course, there's more to it; there always is. You sit back onto the edge of the bed, foot impatiently tapping on the wood floor.
"I may have called Will, and he may have told me to ask you; he promised me that with enough begging.. you'd say yes," he says, almost like a question. There's a small hint of teasing when he says it, and you can practically see the prat smiling through the screen.
Your end of the call goes silent. A flush starting at the tips of your ears and growing at the bulbs of your cheeks.
..
In 2018, the day before the charity match, you met Will in person for the first time. You knew of him through brief passing and mentions of him from Cal and the other Sidemen. Yet you never spoke to him until you were messing around with your camera during practice, getting ready to film the match the next day.
"This is who I was telling you about, Will," Cal smiles, grabbing your attention from the camera. You peer over your shoulder to see a younger lad with dark hair standing beside him. You politely set the camera down on the bench and extend your hand out to him.
"Hi, I'm y/n, I've heard good things about you!" you smile, and he leans down, weakly taking your hand and shaking it.
"Hello," he responds, his once loud chatter with Cal made you assume he'd be much more talkative. But now he is quiet and fidgety, and it makes you wonder if you've already made a bad first impression.
"Y/n is our best camerawomen. I ought to get you familiar with her; maybe you can get some good screen time." Cal smirked. Will shoves him lightly with a chuckle.
"I'm not all bad, I reckon," he insists, and you put your hands up defensively.
"Hey, we'll just have to see on the field, won't we?" you express, grabbing the large equipment and getting ready to move it inside. You stand up, getting a better look at his face. He's tall, his hair short and freshly cut, his jawline is carved out sharply, making it hard to go unnoticed.
"Cheeky," Will commented, crossing his arms over each other. And unknowingly, a grin had worked its way onto your face, your tongue pressing against the inside of your cheek. You shrug,
"I gotta get going, it was nice meeting you Will,"
..
Since then, you and Will have kept in contact frequently. He interacted with you on social media, had you come to feature in his videos, and texted you almost every day. Seeing one another once every few months had become every weekend when you moved closer to London. And you can bet that this didn't go unnoticed by anyone. Sharing clothes, traveling together, posting each other, seeing each other more than your own family— you can only assume why everyone has their presumptions.
Yet, you were great at denying, avoiding, and more importantly ignoring these blistering questions on if they or won’t they.
"So.. you called Will first, before calling me?" you ask slowly, processing it yourself. The pads of your fingers rub against your temple, then smoothing your palm across your cheek hoping it would brush away the pink that dusted your face.
"Yeah," Simon says quickly. "Is it more convincing now? "
"Fuck off,"
"I know it is," he insists. You mutter profanities under your breath before letting it go silent.
Because it is much more convincing knowing that Will had that kind of faith and trust in you. It's more convincing knowing the person closest to you would be right by your side. You weigh out the options in your head. If you do play, you'll get to say you played in front of 30,000 people, raised money for charity, and more importantly, were able to help out some of your closest friends.
"Simon, I don't know.." You mutter hesitantly, biting the nail on your thumb. Sure, you had played footy competitively in high school and tossed a ball around here and there with the lads, but other than that, you hadn't really played in a few years now.
"C'mon, you don't have to be any good, it's for charity y/n! You have to! There will be loads of fans happy that you're playing!" Simon coaxed. You shake your head instantly, knowing that half the boys lived and breathed football.
“You can’t say I don’t have to be any good when you’re probably one of the best players out there.” Countering his argument, you can tell you're at the breaking point. He's cracked you down efficiently, being nice, complimenting you, bringing Will into it- It's working so well you almost hate him for it.
“I’ve exhausted my options, y/n, please, this one time, and I’ll never ask again.” Simon protests. You huff, exasperated, and without letting another beat pass,
"Alright,"
"Alright?" he repeats, the surprise evident in his tone. You gnaw at your bottom lip, and squeezed your eyes shut before speaking again.
"Yeah, okay, put me in." You decide finally. You can hear movement on the other end and a few other voices shout in delight. Of course, he couldn't be alone when he made the phone call.
"Oh my god, this will be legendary, thank you, thank you, thank you," Simon begins excitedly, which brings a smile to your face. Simon, even though he always was teetering on the edge of your limit, was charming and kind and that's what makes it hard to deny him.
"You're playing center, by the way. See you in a week mate!" and the phone call clicks. There, you're left to stare at your phone screen, watching as you get added to a group chat and texts start to roll in.
One week, seven days, to magically get good at football again. Right, well, it’s much too late to turn back now.
"Cheers," muttering to yourself. You fall back onto the bed, checking your messages to see a new one from Will.
"wanna show this novice the ropes?"
Word obviously spreads fast, is the first thing you think. And then you snort, with a quick eye roll, the pads of your fingers drumming against the screen.
"fuck off" you begin to type but instead you text back,
“pitch at 6 sharp"
And almost immediately Will texts back,
“wouldn’t miss it :)”
#will lenney#will lenney x reader#willne imagine#willne x reader#ukyt#uk youtubers#sidemen#willne#willne one shot
168 notes
·
View notes
Text
Across the Way
Chapter 4: New and Old Problems Alike
Retired!Ghoap x Fem!Fat!Reader
Ao3 | Previous - Next | Masterlist
MDNI | cw: fainting, some medical inaccuracies
Word Count: 5.8k
Summary: You go to Scotland with high hopes for your future. After all, you have the bakery you always dreamed of and a whole new life to live. Plus, the men who own the butcher’s shop across the street seem nice.
You haven’t texted them, even three days later. That little sticky note haunts the surface of your kitchen counter. It taunts you - tells you that you should text them and at least give them your number. That you’re being a terrible neighbor. They might need you too, after all. Even though you can’t figure out why they might for the life of you. On the other hand, you can’t help but feel wary about it. Men don’t take an interest in you - people in general rarely take interest. It’s hard not to feel suspicious, as pure as you’re sure their intentions probably are.
More so than any of that, you don’t know what to say. If it had been day one you could have just put your name, but now you feel like you need to explain. Or at least be funny or something. Tossing and turning on your designated rest day about what the hell you should do.
You’re overthinking it. You know that. You can’t stop, either.
They just seem so cool - so put together. So unlike you. You want to impress them. You don’t want to ruin the first possibility of friends in this new life you’re building for yourself.
Eventually you work up the courage to send off an initial text to each of them. Just to give them your name to save if they so choose - plus an extra thank you to Simon for giving you their numbers in the first place. Something simple and borderline cold. Too cold, maybe? Maybe you sound irritated. You hope not. You just want them to like you. Friends in new places are hard and to have someone around you who gets how it feels to need accommodations would just feel so… lovely. Your phone may or may not go flying onto your bed while you bury your face in your hands out of sheer nervousness.
You don’t expect it to chime about a minute later. Right as you’re staring to calm down, of course. It sends your heart violently pounding all over again.
J >> Bonnie lass!
J >> So glad u texted!!
>> Sorry it took so long lol
Oh, you could just slap yourself. You don’t have anything better than that? At all? Christ.
J >> Nah Nah
J >> No worries
J >> Actually I was wondering if u would mind if I came by tomorrow
J >> Just to chat
J >> need an excuse to get out of the house
“How the hell does he type that fast?” You scoff to yourself.
>> Yeah, come by anytime.
>> totally
>> yea sounds cool
>> rad, man
A message from Simon pops up mid your internal battle with how to respond, replying with a simple thumbs up. Very in character, you think. He knows how to be nonchalant. What would Simon say? Something casual, maybe a little formal.
>> If you like. You’re always welcome.
Okay maybe that was too much like Simon. You sigh heavily m before adding,
>> I’m trying out a new blueberry loaf
>> If you want to test for me :)
Better. That’s a little better. With another heavy sigh you decide to drop your phone into your nightstand for the rest of the day. Your heart really cannot handle this much emotional pressure.
~~~
You sort of end up just forgetting about the texts. With your phone out of sight and out of mind upstairs in your apartment it almost catches you off guard when Johnny comes striding through the door just before close. He’s dressed more casually than the last couple of times you saw him - having broken out the summer shorts and a graphic tee for some band you don’t recognize. It suits him, though.
“Hey, bon.” He grins.
“Hey.” You smile back, finishing with putting up your stocking baskets before dusting off your hands and turning around. “Simon closing up?”
“Aye.”
You hum. “Come on back, I’ll get you a slice of that loaf I mentioned.”
Johnny follows you quietly. Uncharacteristically quietly. That’s okay - you don’t have a problem with hanging out in silence. It doesn’t feel tense, surprisingly enough. He leaves Riley out front again. Should you get her a dog bed? Maybe if he comes by consistently. That would be nice. Maybe that’s wishful thinking.
“It’s sort of a pound cake but fluffier. I might make an icing for it but I don’t know if that would be too sweet…” You trail off, focusing on plating up the piece. You’re not sure what compels you to try and make it pretty for him. Probably something you could blame on your grandmother. She did have an obsession with presentation.
Johnny hums loudly after taking a bite, talking around the mouthful. “Y’should totally make an icing.” He swallows roughly. “Si would go crazy fer this.”
“Oh?” You smile. “I’ll send some home with you.”
There’s a lapse of silence while Johnny chews on his slice of bread and you pack up some in a paper bag for him to take home. The only sounds in the room comprised of your cutting and folding and the hum of the cooling oven.
“You’re being weirdly quiet.” You blurt, immediately covering your mouth with your hand. “I, uh, I mean that isn’t a bad thing! I don’t mind… I just, uh, was… sorry, never mind…”
“Well I did come wit’ a bit of an ulterior motive…” Johnny admits, glancing off to the side shyly. It’s a show, you think. Johnny doesn’t seem the type of man to have felt shy a day in his life.
You tilt your head. “Oh?”
He dusts off his hands and grins. “Let us take ye out! In celebration of yer first full month.”
Has it been a month already? “Oh - no, no you don’t have to-“
“C’mon! It’s a big accomplishment.” His smile is so bright that you almost believe his idea that you’ve done something great.
“…alright.” You give a tentative smile. It’s hard to believe they like you enough to want to hang out casually in the evening. Hard to imagine anyone liking you that much but you’re not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
“There’s a pub down the street - the one on the corner. Want tae meet us there around six?” Johnny gives you that lovely smile. How could you ever say no to a smile like that?
“Okay.”
You spend far too long changing in and out of clothes and fussing with your hair. Up-do’s and buns and braids. A tank top then a sweater then a t-shirt. There’s no reason to feel this stressed over it. It’s not a date or anything. Besides, it doesn’t seem to make a difference. Either way you look like a frumpy dumpling. Eventually you land on jeans and one of your designated ‘going out tops.’ At least it’s a good excuse to wear something other than work clothes or loungewear.
Excitement and anxiety thrum under your skin like electricity as you make your way down the street. You feel painfully nauseous - stopping once or twice just to make sure you aren’t about to throw up for real.
The pub is surprisingly quiet when you enter. Obviously somewhere only real locals hang out - there’s no theme or really any decor in general. Just a bar, some booths and a couple pool tables. You scan the floor a few times, not seeing either Johnny or Simon (not that they would be hard to miss). Eventually you just grab a soda from the bar and slide into one of the booths closer to the back. A quiet spot facing the door where you can easily watch for them.
As time ticks on you begin to grow increasingly nervous. Did you get the time wrong? No, no you triple checked. You even wrote it down in your planner. Your leg begins to bounce furiously, heart nearly beating out of your chest. Did they decide to ditch? You wouldn’t really blame them. They’re way out of your league when it comes to friends. Maybe Johnny had an emergency? Should you call Simon? If he had an emergency it would make sense that they would forget to notice you. What if something really bad happened? What if-
The front door opens and Simon’s wide frame strides through, holding the door for Johnny and Riley to come in behind him. You let out a quiet sigh of relief, willing your leg to stop bouncing with a pinch to your thigh. Why are you always so damn dramatic?
Johnny lights up with an ear to ear grin when he spots you, bee-lining for the booth while Simon casually walks up to the bar. It’s almost comedic, the way he dwarfs the counter. Johnny leans on the side of the booth, waiting for Simon, you think.
“Glad ye could come out.” He looks you over, eyes flicking from your plain top to the very practical, not at all stylish up do that you landed on for the evening.
You do your best not to squirm under his gaze. “Me too…”
Simon comes back with two beers in hand and slides them onto the table. He scoots into the inner booth to give Johnny the outer edge. Riley happily sits beside his leg and practically grins at you in a near mirror image of Johnny’s. You’d never do it while she’s on the job, of course, but part of you wants to give her a pat on the head and coo at her for being so polite.
Johnny gives you an apologetic smile. “Sorry we were a bit late-”
“Johnny redid his hair about five times.” Simon butts in, not reacting at all to Johnny’s sputtering protest. He glances at your half-drunk soda. “Want me t’ grab you a beer?”
“Oh, no, I’ll just stick to coke.”
They blink at you. Simon cocks his head slightly. “You sure?”
You chew your lip. “Uh, alcohol tends to aggravate my symptoms is all...”
“Then why’d ye agree to drinks? We coulda gone somewhere else.” Johnny frowns.
You shrug. “I don’t mind. I… maybe this is over sharing but I’d rather go out and be kind of normal than just… not ever. Y’know?”
His expression softens. For having such icy blue eyes they are so, so warm. “I get it.”
“How’d you two meet anyway?” You blurt, taking a left turn to get the conversation off of you. It’s the first question that comes to mind. Maybe it’s rude - maybe you’re prying too much already.
“Military.” Simon grunts. “SAS.”
“Si retired wit’ me after I was discharged.” Johnny points to his scar the same way he did when you first met. “Russians scrambled my egg a bit.”
“Couldn’t do the time apart…” Simon murmurs, eyes locked on Johnny’s face. It’s vulnerable. More than he’s used to - you can see it in the way he tenses after saying it.
Something passes between them that a deep, wounded part of you desperately wishes to understand.
You can’t help but start giggling to yourself. They both give you an incredulous look. “Sorry, sorry - it’s just, that’s like… totally a romance book premise. It’s sweet. Really.”
“Och, aye. Wouldn’t know it t’ look at him but Si’s a real romantic.” Johnny bats his eyes at the other man, who just rolls his in response. The corner of his scarred mouth quirks up subtly.
“SAS…” You repeat, staring at your drink. “That’s like Navy Seal shit, right?”
“We worked with them a few times, yes.” Simon nods. There’s an air of ‘do not ask anything more specific’ in his voice.
“Huh.” You take that for what it is and sit back, squinting at them. “You don’t look it, honestly.”
Johnny laughs. “Tha’s just cause ye havennae seen Simon with his gear on. The Ghost.” He wiggles his fingers along as he makes a stupid, spooky sound effect. “I domesticated him.”
Simon scoffs but doesn’t deny it, just takes a quiet sip of his beer.
“Riley’s a vet, too.” Johnny pats her head. “Got too skittish around loud noises but she transitioned into a service dog nicely.”
“Now she’s just spoiled.” Simon rolls his eyes in faux annoyance. You get the strong feeling that he’s the one doing the spoiling.
You find yourself relaxing as the night goes on. Slouching in your seat rather than sitting ramrod straight and nervously twiddling your thumbs. They never press you to drink, never insist that you’ll be fine with just one. They take your statement as fact and it isn’t brought up again. That shouldn’t be as significant as it is, now that you think about it.
Johnny’s words begin to slur a little bit on his fourth, no maybe fifth, beer. You aren’t sure. It’s very cute, the little blush that forms across his cheeks. Simon loosens up, too. He slings an arm around the back of the booth and Johnny readily tucks himself into the open spot. You find yourself wondering about their military career again. You can’t picture either of them committing violence - especially Simon. Sure, he’s big and gruff but he looks at Johnny so, so softly.
Simon is the one to call it a night - though you have a feeling its because you nodded off a couple times. Not out of boredom, you try really, really hard to pay attention to Johnny rambling about the chemistry of different explosives. He makes it interesting, somehow. Really it’s just that you’ve been awake for… holy shit almost twenty hours!
“D’you need a ride?” Simon asks as you exit the pub, hands firmly shoved into his pockets.
“No, I’ll be fine.” You don’t know how to interpret the look he’s giving you. It’s intense, but not annoyed or displeased. He has such a weird knack for unreadable but distinct expressions. You wonder if you’ll ever get close enough to get good at deciphering them.
You jump when Johnny takes both your hands in, kissing the backs of them with a sloppy, drunk smile. “Thank ye fer comin’ out. “
Somehow your face feels hotter than a damn oven. You tuck your hands to your chest, kicking shyly at the sidewalk. “Th-thanks for the invite. We, uh, we could do it again sometime?”
You glance up hopefully, praying that you didn’t misread the situation. You’ve done that before - thought people liked you more than they did. Johnny just grins wider somehow and nods excitedly.
You watch them walk off in the other direction, hand in hand. Johnny giggles about something loudly and you can see Simon’s shoulders shake with a far more silent laugh. All the way until they disappear down the street.
The sheer amount that the image hurts your heart makes you feel evil.
~~~
The pub changed something. What, you don’t know. Either way, you fall into an easy pattern with Johnny and Simon over the next couple weeks. Exchanges of food, leftovers or morsels about to turn, little visits back and forth between your shops. Johnny continues to stop by after close, just hanging around with you while Simon closes up shop.
You can’t deny how much you look forward to hearing that door chime followed by a too-loud greeting from Johnny. How your heart flips in your chest when those bright blue eyes peek around the corner into the back room or light up while trying a new recipes you’ve been testing. You’re still a bit awkward - unsure how to react when he throws an arm around your shoulders or listens oh so intently while you talk about nothing important.
Things can’t ever be all sunshine and rainbows, though. Not for you. A new problem has arisen as summer truly sets in - the comfortable spring breezes giving way to nothing but bright, unfiltered sun. One you didn’t expect to impact you this much living this far north.
Heat.
It’s hard to breathe in the back room while you’re baking. Hard to keep your water and salt intake high enough to compensate for how fast you lose them. You might as well get a permanent saline drip attached to you at this point. You definitely didn’t google if that was physically possible. Your budget for liquid IVs and other supplements nearly doubles. Standing over the massive oven in the back room has your head swimming a few times. You end up resting longer on your weekends, unable to keep up like you could in cooler weather.
It’s okay, you tell yourself, the summer here isn’t like back home. It will pass quicker. Plus, you at least have methods of dealing with it now other than crossing your fingers and praying.
“Bonnie!” Johnny suddenly appears in your doorway - that charming smile splitting his face from ear to ear. “Ye made it up Main Street yet?”
“No?” You tilt your head and try to ignore the way your vision spots momentarily at the motion. “Why?”
“Ye dinnae hear about the summer festival?” He leans on your counter. You shake your head. “It’s a yearly thing. Not that big a deal but they have some fun games an’ it’s nice tae see everyone out an’ about. Si an’ I are about tae head down. Come wit’?”
You hesitate. The exhaustion in your body tugs at your spine. Your limbs feel heavy. This morning really got to you - out of towners who must have come for the festival flooded your shop the moment it opened on top of your Saturday regulars. Not that you’re complaining, really. It’s easily your best day so far. You want to go with them, though, despite the ache in your back and the sting in your joints. It sounds so fun and it’s never a bad idea to take part in your new community’s festivities.
“Yeah. That sounds nice.” You smile. You can tough it out for an hour, then come back home. Yeah, just an hour. You’ll be fine.
You hadn’t noticed Simon leaned up at the entrance to your shop. Your eyes lock on his arms. This is the first time you’ve actually seen him in short sleeves. You can’t help but stare at his half-sleeve tattoo - all skulls and bombs and other military motifs. Faded and sun worn. Yeah, if you’d seen that sooner you definitely would have picked up on the whole military thing. You bite your lip to keep from snickering about it.
You can hear the music drifting from the speakers down the street. A few kids run by with balloons and cheap carnival prizes. It almost reminds you of the Spring Fling back home, just missing the extreme American flag theming across every booth and vendor front. Now that you’re looking around, you can actually see several booths that have been sponsored by various businesses in the area. Even the post office has a snow cone stand. The deeper you get into the event, the more flamboyant the decor becomes. Multicolored streamers and pennet flags connect stands, creating an almost canopy effect.
Simon stops rather abruptly at a booth, waiting behind a few teenagers tossing rings onto bottles. You stop with Johnny about two feet away. What’s he thinking? Simon doesn’t seem like the type who would be too entertained by basic carnival games. Even so, he steps forward and passes over a couple bills to the vendor as soon as the teenagers leave.
“Si’s really good at these. Watch.” Johnny grins beside you.
“Aren’t they rigged?” You raise an eyebrow.
Johnny doesn’t answer, eyes locked on his husband as he lines up one of the rings. You have to lean slightly to see around the breadth of the man - the multicolor rings almost cartoonishly small in his hands. Cute. Your eyes get impossibly wide with each toss, every single one landing comfortably on the bottle necks as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. As if this isn’t one of the most commonly rigged carnival games.
“Holy shit…” You mutter, still staring.
“Aye, tha’s a SAS sniper for ye.” Johnny laughs. “Glad tae see it still comes in handy.”
Simon huffs out a quiet laugh at that. Almost more of a sigh if it weren’t for the shaking of his shoulders. You love it - their little dynamic. The bond between them that’s so strong it’s almost visible.
“‘ere.” Simon turns to you suddenly, holding out a cheap little carnival prize. You can’t even begin to decipher what it’s supposed to be - some sort of furry puff ball with big, embroidered anime eyes and two felt antennae sticking up out of it’s purple head… body… thing…
Your face heats. “F-, uh, me?”
He shrugs. “Suits you. Riley will just chew it up if we take it home.”
“Aye. She’s so good with everythin’ but cheap plushies.” Johnny snickers.
You glance down at the dog in question - her dark eyes glued to the toy in Simon’s hand. Her tail thumps against the ground where she sists dutifully, but you can see the desire to snatch the thing away in her twitchy ears and pleading eyes. You snort, taking the stupid thing and tucking it under your arm with the prayer that they don’t notice the heat now spreading from your cheeks to your ears.
“Thanks…” you murmur, already mentally deciding where to add it to the mess of stuffies covering your bed already.
Somehow you end up walking between them down the street - Simon on your left and Johnny on your right with Riley in tow. You stop at a few other games here and there. All pretty basic. Johnny absolutely kills at the dunk booth.
Simon tires his hardest to help you with your terrible aim, “Just visualize it. Y’have t’ account for the arc.”
You get to the point of sticking your tongue out in concentration. Even so you only manage to knock down a couple of the wooden ducks at the ‘Dunk-A-Duck’ stand. You do, however, win one of those rock candy sticks at the guessing booth. You just hand it off to Johnny. It’s probably not best to load up on sugar in your current state.
Johnny excitedly points to different buildings giving you a rundown of the history of his hometown as you walk. Simon seems to barely be listening. He’s probably heard this a thousand times. Prattling on about the old town square, the church bell that a bunch of teenagers spray painted one time (Johnny was not involved, how could you accuse him of that?)
You find yourself focusing on your feet - keeping each step even and fast enough to remain on pace with them. One, two, one, two, one, two. The air begins to thicken. Muggy and heavy on your skin. Your breaths become shallow and fast. You can’t catch it, the air seeming to get stuck in your throat rather than reaching your lungs. Spots begin to dance across your vision. You stumble over nothing.
Not now! Come on! You’ve been doing so well!
Riley presses against your leg acting as a counter weight. Your body moves on instinct to grab whatever you can - hands wrapping around something strong and covered with cloth. An arm solid as rebar. Hopefully it’s someone you know. All you can see are colorless shapes.
“Gonna pass out - don’t freak!” You gasp before your legs give out.
It’s not that you go entirely out - it’s rare that you fully black out. It’s more like being stuck. Limp and fuzzy and confused. Almost like sleep paralysis. There’s voices and people moving around you. Someone has picked you up, you think, based on the swaying motion and the passing shapes around you. Maybe that’s just vertigo. A door bell chimes.
You finally begin to really come to when something icy is pressed to your forehead. It couldn’t have been more than a handful of seconds that you were gone, but it takes much longer for the world around you to come back into focus.
“I’m sorry…” You murmur, eyes stinging. Even after all these years it’s so damn embarrassing. You blink, the distinct mural that decorates the ceiling of the post office slowly coming into view. Johnny said a big time traveling artist painted it back in the nineties.
“Ye alright?” Johnny murmurs, crouched down beside you. Riley sniffs at your hand, seeming satisfied when you finally move it on your own.
You nod slowly. “Overheated…”
“Give her this.” Someone says. An event medic, you think. The boys must have flagged them down. Fingers press to your pulse point, a light shines in your eyes and you follow it. A quick check of vitals. Johnny shoves a water bottle in your hand as soon as the medic decides you’re fine to move - the contents distinctly murky from some sort of electrolyte pack that’s been shaken into it.
“Up y’get. Slowly does it.” Simon helps you sit up with a hand on your back. It’s so gentle. You don’t miss how he cages in your body the way only someone intimately familiar with caretaking might. Fully ready to catch you if you go limp again.
You sip slow, eyes glued to the ground. You feel so fucking stupid. Can’t even walk down a street without creating some sort of scene. They’re never going to want to hang out with you again, are they? You can’t go out drinking, can’t walk around a festival for longer than a couple hours. You distracted Riley. What if something happened to Johnny while you were having your spell? She might not have alerted correctly because of you. She might have gotten confused and then he could have gotten hurt. He might have-
“Ye really should drink tha’ instead of glarin’ at it.” Johnny pulls you from your thoughts. He’s now sat with his legs crossed beside you. Riley’s head rests in his lap. She seems calm. Content now that the emergency is over and happily lying on a cool floor.
You hum, chugging the last bit of it quickly. “I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be.” Simon says curtly. “Does this ‘appen often?”
You shrug. “Not as much anymore… usually my medication keeps me stable.”
“Do ye need a doctor?” Johnny tilts his head slightly. There’s no judgment in his tone - in either of their tones. Just calm concern. It probably shouldn’t make you want to cry as much as it does.
You shake your head. “I’ve got liquid IV at home. Just need to sleep it off.”
Hopefully. In reality, a pain flare up is inevitable now. You just won’t know how bad until you’re fully in it.
“Let’s get ye home.” Johnny says, knees popping as he stands.
“I-I’m fine!” You insist, mentally preparing to get yourself up off the floor. “I can get home on my own - I don’t want to ruin your time.”
Johnny levels his gaze onto you, so serious it almost looks angry. It doesn’t match his face. “We’re not leavin’ ye tae get home alone like this.”
You’re caught off guard when an arm slides under your back and another under knees - lifting you like you weigh half of what you do in reality. Like you’re a paperweight instead of a boulder. You blink up at Simon, far too surprised to be embarrassed. At least at first. You splutter out a poor attempt at convincing him to put you down. Excuse and reason after reason and excuse. They roll off him like water off a ducks back. Your face burns as he steps out of the post office with you neatly tucked against his chest - Johnny and Riley in tow.
If you allow yourself to be honest, to give into that weaker part of you (or, at least, the part you consider to be weak) you could possibly admit that this feels nice. Being cared for feels nice. Having your body up against someone else feels nice. It’s been a long time since anyone touched you outside of a polite handshake or accidental bump. You sink into it despite yourself - relaxing against Simon’s chest. They were right, you wouldn’t have made it back. Your head is too fuzzy and there’s that telltale pain in your shoulders radiating up to your neck that signifies an oncoming Bed Day.
It doesn’t take long with Simon’s lengthy strides to get back to your building. You probably wouldn’t have been able to keep up to that running. Well, you can’t really run much at all so you definitely wouldn’t. A stupid, muddled train of thought that melts into the hazy bog of your current mental state. Even Johnny trails a few feet behind. Neither of them speak, marching in determined silence. You attempt to subtly check their faces for any anger. You’d understand if they were angry. Most people would get angry. You interrupted their day out with your useless drama. All you get is a wide, bright grin from Johnny when your eyes eventually meet his.
Simon puts you down with all the care in the world. As if you’re made of fine china. His hand stays on your upper back - planted firmly between your shoulder blades and ready to catch you if need be. Your vision swims a bit, your joints feel like jelly but you manage to dig your keys out of your pocket and unlock the door.
“Here.” Johnny plops the puff ball back into your hands just as you turn to say goodbye. To say thank you - to apologize profusely.
Your brows raise. You completely forgot about it while swimming around in a sea of embarrassment - he must have picked it up for you. You hug it to your chest with a quiet, “Thanks.”
You shift your weight side to side, psyching yourself up for the crawl up the stairs. Probably literally. You don’t think you could stay upright if you tried to walk them like a regular day, or even with an aid. Like a regular or semi-regular person. Fuck.
Johnny follows your eyes up at the staircase. He must sense some hesitation in you. “Do ye need help up?”
You bite your lip, staring at the ground. Standing in one place seems alright, but the thought of climbing is so daunting, even with the cane you have stationed at the bottom of the steps for that exact purpose. It’s embarrassing. You’re young, you should be able to walk up some damn stairs. It isn’t even that many. It’s barely a full flight. Just one story of stairs for fuck’s sake.
“Hey.” Simon touches your cheek, the action snapping your eyes to his in surprise. “It’s okay. C’mere.”
He picks you up again in the same fashion with barely a grunt, taking his time up the steps so as not to jostle you. How many times has he done this with Johnny? you wonder. That’s the only explanation for how good he is at keeping your equilibrium so even. You wonder if he practiced - if he took caretaking classes. He probably did. Does he keep up at the gym just so he can take care of his husband? Simon might be quiet and a little formal, but he exudes dedication.
“Sorry it’s messy…” You murmur when they reach the top of the steps. Glancing behind you, you see Riley sitting patiently at the bottom. Johnny must have told her to stay. “Haven’t gotten to fully unpack…”
You’ve been spending too much time in bed on the weekends. Fucking lazy.
Johnny just laughs. “Ye shoulda seen the first place Simon an’ I had.”
“Wasn’t that bad.” Simon argues, carefully setting you down on the couch. His hands hold your waist to steady you. They’re so warm… It feels wrong to be disappointed when he lets go.
“We hadnae figured out a system yet.” Johnny huffs, hands on his hips. “We ended up hirin’ a specialized maid service the dishes got so backed up.”
You scoff, laying back against the couch with that stupid carnival prize still in your arms. Like it’s the only thing grounding you to reality. The tears that have been stinging your eyes this entire time continue to threaten to spill - a myriad of blinks and careful breaths the only thing keeping them back.
Johnny sits beside you slowly. You can’t meet his eyes. “Do… do ye want tae tell us what it is? Ye donnae have tae - it’s up tae ye. Just if somethin’ happens again…”
“We’d like to be prepared.” Simon jumps in where Johnny trails off.
You chew your lip, still staring up at the ceiling. It splits and that coppery taste coats your tongue for a moment. “I, uh, it’s called POTS. There’s different types but basically my body can’t regulate blood flow and pressure right…” You shrug. “Like I said my medication usually keeps me mostly okay.”
It’s the pain that really gets to you usually, but you don’t need to start dumping on them about that. There’s no reason to spill your guts about things they can’t fix.
“Thanks fer tellin’ us.” Johnny smiles. You stiffen slightly when he reaches out to tuck some hair behind your ear. You tilt your head, still resting on the back of the couch, to meet his eye. “Get some rest, yeah? We’ll lock the knob behind us. Call if ye need anythin’.”
“Okay.” You nod, keeping your eyes down and picking at your nails. “Sorry… about all this… I didn’t - I don’t… I’m sorry.”
“Donnae apologize.” He says softly as he stands. “Never apologize. We’re your friends, aye? Friends help friends. Tha’s all there is to it.”
Simon gives you a discerning nod behind him, expression both soft and deeply serious.
Friends? They consider you real life proper friends? Really? You can’t help but beam up at him. “Yeah.”
A/N: I’ve re-read this chapter so many times that it’s total mush in my brain which tells me it’s time to be done with it.
Bonus: I made a Pinterest board for this fic
#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#call of duty#cod#ghoap#cod x reader#ghost x reader#soapghost x reader#soap x reader#ghost cod#fem reader#reader has pots#fat reader#plus size reader#reader insert#johnny ‘soap’ mactavish x reader#johnny soap mctavish x reader#johnny soap mactavish#john soap mctavish#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#across the way
652 notes
·
View notes
Text
THE CARDIGAN THIEF || BLUE LOCK
PAIRING: ITOSHI SAE X READER
⚠ do not copy, edit or repost in any other platform
hearts & reblogs are appreciated <;3
divider by @ohmarigold
headcanon:
roommate!sae is a certified cardigan thief
roommate!sae who loves paring your cardigans with his turtlenecks during the Spanish winters
"Sae-chan, Sae-chan, have you seen my burgundy cardigan?" you call out to your roommate Sae while searching your wardrobe for said cardigan.
...
"Sae-chan?" you call out again.
...
After a minute of frustrating silence (and your failed treasure hunt), you decide to see what oh-so-important task the dumb genius midfielder was up to that he couldn't grace you with a reply.
Walking to his room, the first thing you see is the normally tidy room untidy - the wardrobe was open with most of his clothes strewn about on the floor and the bed, and his jewellery box looked as if a child had gone through it. Fuck, his shoe collection was all over the place too. Seeing the bathroom door open you called out again.
"Ah, Y/N stop calling me Sae-chan it's a feminine term. Anyways, come in and help me out, I can't decide which pair goes best with this."
As soon as you step into the bathroom, the first thing you notice is Sae styling his adorable bangs in his usual way. The second thing you notice is a burgundy cardigan that looks suspiciously similar to your own. Upon closer inspection, you realize it is your cardigan, with the left sleeve bearing the hand-embroidered cranes you made in your art class. The hem is slightly stained from the time you accidentally spilt ink on yourself. There's no mistaking it - this is definitely your cardigan.
"Sae-chan, that's my cardigan."
"Yeah and?"
"Well, it's MY cardigan."
"And your point is?" replies Sae in an offended voice as if you were questioning his talent as a midfielder. Ignoring your dumbstruck look, he grabs your hand and drags you back into the room.
From the bed, Sae holds up four turtlenecks. "Light grey or charcoal grey? Brown maybe? Or do you prefer forest green?"
"It's. MY. Cardigan!"
"There's no 'my' between roommates. I let you borrow my jersey for my matches all the time."
"That's because I'm there cheering for YOU."
"Semantics. Now help me choose. I personally would prefer the forest green one."
With a huff, you choose the forest green turtleneck. No matter how badly he stretches the sleeves of your cardigans, you gotta admit Sae has a knack for fashion and you may definately like watching him put on a fashion show for you.
(It's definitely NOT because it makes you fuzzy in the head watching him wear your clothes. Like a silent possession of sorts. Like your dating dreams that feel a little bit real.)
Bonus:
A frantic fan ends up spilling coffee all over Sae on your not-a-date outing.
Under your angry gaze, Sae buys a couple's cardigan with a promise to not steal yours again.
Sae is absolutely going to steal borrow again. No compromises.
125 notes
·
View notes
Text
So Hot You're Hurting My Feelings - Schlatt x Reader
now listening: so hot you’re hurting my feelings - caroline polachek 0:01❍─────── 3:03 ↻ ⊲ Ⅱ ⊳ ↺
Ping!
You groaned, picking your phone off the vanity in front of you to see who was bothering you now…it was a photo of Schlatt and his buddies in LA he posted to his close friend's story on Instagram. He had been out there for the last few days, filming content with his creator friends, leaving you alone, just you and your thoughts, in New York.
You two weren’t anything official, just two good friends who met at a bar one night, hit it off, and stuck around one another. Slowly, over time, you had grown to have stronger feelings for him than you thought was ever possible—his good looks coupled with his sharp personality drew you in, and once you realized how soft and sweet he could be behind closed doors, your fate was sealed. He, however, never showed a growing interest in you, whenever he would text and ask you to come over, he may have made one or two comments about how nice you looked, but it was nothing more than friendly conversation, which annoyed the hell out of you. You were planning on bringing it up to him, but he dropped a bomb on you that he was leaving New York for almost a month.
“Wait, what?” You said, not quite sure you were hearing him right…the Schlatt you knew would never travel for that long.
“Yeah, just so happened I could connect a flight from L.A. to Kyoto, so after my two weeks of filming in L.A., I decided to take a flight over to Japan. I always take a trip over there, at least once or twice a year.” He said with a smile, acting as if these plans were straightforward and simple to understand. You blinked at him, somewhat in disbelief.
“And you’re staying in Japan for how long?”
“Haven’t decided yet…probably 2 or 3 weeks? Maybe more.”
“What do you mean you haven’t decided?” You asked, your voice growing in volume…how could he leave you here for so long? He shrugged before replying.
“I dunno…figured I’d book a flight home when I’m out there, when it feels right to come home. It’s not like I can’t do my job in Japan, you know.” He said with a dry laugh, looking at your shocked expression rather confused… “Why?”
You sighed, dropping your head slightly.
“No reason, Schlatt. Just curious. Hope you enjoy yourself, for most people those kinds of trips are once in a lifetime!” You said, putting on a fake smile, half listening as he continued to talk, going over his itinerary for both of his trips, who he’d be with, why he was going…it didn’t matter to you. You were too busy being caught up in your feelings for him, wondering how you were going to survive that long without him in New York.
Now, here you were, preparing yourself for a dreaded night out with people you hadn’t talked to since high school, to a crowded bar or something in the city that you didn’t even like. And there he was, enjoying himself and his company in Los Angeles, without you. He probably didn’t even notice your absence, or the fact that you weren’t there, and were instead enjoying yourself in New York without him. You let out a groan, sending his story a quick like before putting your phone down, the knot in your stomach growing ever so slightly.
You couldn’t help yourself from feeling a bittersweet sense of pride, seeing Schlatt go out and do these things you know he’s been wanting to do and achieve was so fulfilling, even for you as a support for him. The other side of the blade, though, was the fact that the bigger and the more involved he got in this lifestyle, the increased amount of time he’d be away from you. You wanted him to soar, reach the levels of success he truly deserved for how much time and effort he was putting into his various channels and business ventures, but your heart felt empty every time he had to leave.
He had never left for so long before in the time that you knew him. He’d taken the week-long trip to Los Angeles or back to Austin every once in a while over the last year that you knew him, and your heart was just learning how to handle that. Going from simple weeks of distant contact to fully thrown into over a month without him…it nearly sent your body into shock. You spent the first whole week he was gone contemplating whether or not you’d look clingy by texting him once a day to check in and see how his trip was going—spoiler alert, you got too paranoid and only texted him twice, though, he did FaceTime you after you texted, because he thought it was easier to tell you of all his daily adventures over a call rather than sit there and type it all out.
Placing your phone down, you looked back into your vanity mirror…since when did you look so horrible? The bags under your eyes had more flight miles racked up than you did, and the frown lines in between your brows were more prominent than ever. Rubbing your hands over your face, you decided to say fuck it, get yourself all dolled up, and to try your hardest to have a good night out. Was it going to be hard to get your mind to stop traveling to thoughts of Schlatt? Absolutely. However…were you willing to try and let go for once to have some well-needed fun? Absolutely! Your mind was made—you picked up one of your makeup brushes and began to go to work, doing whatever it would take for you to look relatively presentable and like you were at least getting the proper sleep you needed.
After what felt like forever, you finally finished putting yourself together and met up with your friends in the city. It was some overcrowded, musty night club in the Lower East Side that reeked of Axe and cigarettes, the fog inside making you practically choke every so often. You tried to be involved with the group you came with, downing drinks and shots left and right, going out on the overly crowded dance floor…nothing could take your mind off of Schlatt. One of the girls with your group, Emma, noticed your silence and approached you, concern in her eyes.
“(Y/N)...what’s going on? You love these outings!” She screamed over the blaring DJ who wasn’t reading the room–no one wanted to listen to swing jazz, they were in the mood for party anthems. You recognized Emma…one of the girls who used to frequent the same parties when you were in high school, not talking much outside of them, but you do remember her as being one of the only girls willing to hold your hair back when you were pulling trig in the bushes to keep rallying. Smiling softly at her, you shrugged.
“I’m alright…just distracted, I guess. Need more shots I think.” She winced at your words, not liking that plan…apparently she also remembered having to hold your hair back a few times.
“I know we’re not close or whatever, but if you need an open ear, I’m your girl!” She said, giggling, as she nodded towards you. Humming, you contemplated it…if you were sober, there was no way in hell you were telling his random girl what was going on with you and Schlatt, especially all the embarrassing details that didn’t hide just how one sided this was. In your drunken state, though, you couldn’t hold back, needing a person to just be a listening ear to all of your woes, your words spilling out of your mouth like vomit. Emma, however, was engaged, one of her favorite pastimes being listening to other people’s troubles and figuring out solutions (that probably wouldn’t work most of the time).
“Damn, that’s a fucking predicament.” She said with a huff, leaning in towards you. You nodded, a groan escaping your lips.
“It just sucks! He’s so hot, and he keeps posting these photos to his story with all of his friends out in L.A….it’s like he’s taunting me with his looks! The fact that I can’t see him with my own two eyes right now…it’s driving me crazy!”
“Woah…you’re in a lot deeper than I thought…” She whispered, her eyes scanning the nightclub as she thought, her eyes making their way back to you widened…she had an idea.
“I got it! Let’s go to the bathroom…need to make you hotter!” She said, grabbing your hand as she pulled you into the nearest restroom in a panic. Once inside, she adjusted your outfit so your best features were on display, moving to fix your makeup next to make sure you didn’t look like you were too miserable all night long.
“Perfect…let’s find everyone else!” She squealed, clapping her hands together, proud of her execution…she didn’t do too terribly—looking in the mirror, you were half impressed with just how good you actually looked. She grabbed your hand, dragging you back out to the dancefloor, finding some of the people you had come with, gathering them around.
“Give me your phone.” She whispered to you, holding out her hand.
“What?”
“What are you deaf? I said give me your phone! Trust me!” She gave you pleading eyes, and you were drunk enough that you didn’t care as much. You reluctantly gave her your phone, unlocking it. She opened Instagram, sliding over to create a story, calling everyone around. She made sure you were towards the front, and most of your body was in view of the camera. As she made sure everyone was in frame, she looked at you with a soft smile.
“Make it look like you’re enjoying yourself, at least, okay?” She said softly, before looking at everyone else, “Okay…smile!”
The group made their best pose as she snapped a photo, handing you your phone back. You were relatively impressed, it actually looked like you were enjoying yourself on a night out. Turning to her, you showed her an impressed smile.
“Damn, Emma…that’s actually really good. Should I post it as is?” She hummed, thinking with a smile.
“Put an emoji on it…something stupid like the dancing lady, or like a disco ball or something! Pair it with a heart or something similar…he’ll slide up in no time.”
You looked at her dumbfounded.
“What? Seriously? A disco ball and a heart? That will do?” She smirked, nodding her head.
“Trust me…men are simple creatures. If he doesn’t swipe up, then…something’s up.” You sighed, turning back to your phone, scrolling through the emojis. Typing out a disco ball and a light blue heart, your finger hovered over the ‘post stories’ button before she stopped you.
“Wait! Is he in your close friend's story?” She asked, grabbing your arm almost as if she was stopping you from making a mistake. You nodded, confused at what she was on about.
“Post it there. He’ll be more likely to reply if he notices it’s a close friend’s story! The idea of being in a private circle is alluring, he’ll want to reply!” She sounded confident, and that’s all you needed in the moment. Pressing send, you sighed, looking up at her.
“Now I need some liquor…” She smiled, nodding, dragging you to the bar for your 5th, maybe 6th shot of the night.
On the other side of the country, Schlatt’s phone buzzed. He was in the middle of wrapping up a filming session with his friends Charlie and Ted, so he ignored the buzzing. The filming session went on for what felt like another few hours, and in the back of his mind, Schlatt couldn’t help himself from thinking of you.
He saw you viewed his close friends story, a simple picture of him and his two friends out to lunch together earlier….but you didn’t text him to see how his day was going, or if he was readying himself for the Japan leg of his trip, since he knew you’d remember that he was heading to LAX to go to Kyoto tomorrow.
You always remembered the little things—it was one of the things Schlatt admired about you. One time, in a late night discussion, he had mentioned his love of a certain album, and how he stopped listening to a particular artist because it made him depressed if he listened too much. The next time Schlatt came to your place, he noticed the album he had mentioned by name was now on display by your record player stand, and when you shuffle your playlist for him, the songs he had mentioned by a certain artist were now gone, disappeared. He didn’t mention those things with hopes you would change the things you did around him—he was simply opening himself up to you— but you still remembered the things he said, and made sure he was comfortable and cared for when he was around you. He could never forget the way you made him feel inside, and this trip was slowly killing his spirit, despite the amount of fun he was having with his friends exploring places and making content. Everyday was a fight within him to not send you too many text messages, as he didn’t want to seem like he was only ever thinking about you…even though, as of late, that had become the truth.
Ted picked up on how quiet he had gone towards the end of filming, a part of him assuming Schlatt had just hit his social wall, and that content creation had to end for the day, but another part of him was sure that there was something more to the look behind Schlatt’s eyes. He quietly approached him, clearing his throat.
“Hey, man…everything alright? You’re quiet.” Schlatt huffed, looking slightly up at him as he nodded.
“Yeah, ‘m alright. Just thinkin’...” He said, his voice trailed off. Ted stood, raising an eyebrow at Schlatt as he watched him, his silence speaking for itself—if you want to talk, I’m here to listen. Schlatt sighed, leaning back on the couch…maybe Ted would have some words of advice.
Schlatt rambled and ranted on for what felt like only a few minutes, but was probably more like an hour or two, as Ted, and eventually Charlie, too, sat in silence, taking it all in.
“Sounds like you like them, man.” Ted said nonchalantly, leaning back in his armchair. Charlie nodded, silently agreeing, causing Schlatt to huff, rolling his eyes.
“No fuckin’ shit, Sherlock…I don’t know what the fuck t’do ‘bout it, though.” Ted and Charlie shared a look, before looking back at him.
“Just tell them, man.” Schlatt’s eyes widened at Ted’s indifferent response.
“What?”
“You heard me…just tell them!”
“No?”
“Why?” Charlie asked sincerely, causing Schlatt to let out yet another groan, sliding down in his position on the couch, his hands covering his face.
“It’s…it’s not that simple.” The two other men in the room lightly laughed, not understanding Schlatt’s dilemma.
“I’m not sure if we’re even on the same page…yeah, they remember every little thing about me, and goes out of their way to make sure I’m happy…but what if they’re doing that as a friend!” The two other men exchanged another look, before bursting out into laughter at Schlatt’s expense, leaving him somewhat stunned and confused.
“Dude, you’re a lost cause. Just text them! Say something!” Ted said, signalling for him to check his phone. He sighed…at this point, he supposed he had nothing to lose—worst comes to worst, you wouldn’t reply, and he could forget about it all by spending as much time in Japan as possible without cutting into his work flow. Opening his phone, he saw two Instagram notifications…you had double posted to your Instagram story. He hummed…that wasn’t normal for you. Upon opening the first story, he was left speechless at the photo—you looked as stunning as ever, and he couldn’t peel his eyes off of you. He didn’t take note of the stupid (cute) emojis you had put on the post, or the other people you were with…his sole focus was on you. He went to send the story a like, but instead tapped forward. He saw you singing along to something, turning up the volume on your story…
“I’m going back to 505! If it’s a seven hour flight or a forty-five minute drive!” You drunkenly belted with one of your friends…his breath hitched in the back of his throat.
“Huh…they’re an Arctic Monkeys fan, huh?” Ted said, leaning over Schlatt’s shoulder, looking at your story. Charlie peered over too, nodding.
“Damn, man…I see why you like her.”
All their comments were like static white noise in the back of his mind, nothing else mattered to him in the moment.
“505…that’s our song.” He said softly, watching as the story moved forward to the next one in the carousel. You were telling him you were thinking of him without even saying it.
Back in the Lower East Side, Emma and yourself were tucked in a back corner, way too many Long Islands deep, stalking your story posts like hunters watching their prey. 505 still played on in the background behind you, your stomach in knots at the sound of the lyrics.
“Woah…who is this?” You asked, looking up at Schlatt as a song played lightly in the background. He hummed, looking up from his phone at you.
“It’s an Arctic Monkeys song…have you never heard of them?”
“Huh…I don’t think I have.” Schlatts eyes widened at your comment, leaning forward in his seat.
“What?”
“...what?” You asked innocently, not aware it was such a bad thing.
“Oh, you’re in for a real treat. This is 505…after this, we’re listening to their best album, Tranquility Base Hotel and Casino.” He replied, quickly queuing up the music on his phone…you laughed, watching him in admiration.
“This song…it’s good. I like it a lot.” He gave you a warm smile, nodding.
From that moment on, every time you two hung out together, 505 played at some given time, deeming it your song.
You slid up on your recent post, the one Emma was sure Schlatt would reply to…you gasped. Emma’s attention was brought back to you.
“What?!?”
“...he saw it.” She smiled wide, her eyes as large as saucers. She was excited for you already, her mind racing at all the possibilities he could've slid up with.
“Oh my god! What did he say?”
You slumped back against the wall, the seconds feeling like hours as they passed. Emma’s face fell as she put down her drink on the windowsill next to you, gently grabbing your shoulders. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill at any moment.
“Oh my god…what did he say?”
“...nothing. He said nothing.”
#jschlatt#jschlatt x reader#schlatt#schlatt x reader#jschlatt x you#schlatt fic#schlatt fanfic#schlatt x you#schlatt x y/n#jschlatt fanfic#jschlatt fic#jschlatt x y/n
188 notes
·
View notes
Text
The lollipop
Pairing: Lando Norris x Fem!reader
Warnings: mentions of blowjob
Summary: Lando steals your lollipop.

The paddock was busier than usual this afternoon. The mechanics were rushing around adjusting the last details of the cars while the drivers were reviewing their strategies.
I was walking nonchalantly, licking my lollipop while observing the movement around me. Writing had always been my way of escaping the chaotic reality of racing, as there was always a moment when all the movement and bustle got too much but, at that moment, I was just enjoying the vibrant atmosphere.
I saw Lando chatting animatedly with some members of his team and decided to approach him. Lando always had a way of making the most tense moments seem light and fun. When he saw me approaching, a mischievous smile appeared on his face, making me suspicious.
"Hey, Y/n! What are you up to?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.
"Nothing much, just enjoying the day and wandering around," I replied with a smile, my lollipop still in my mouth.
Lando stared at the lollipop for a moment, and before I could react, he plucked it out of my mouth and put it in his own.
"Hey!" I exclaimed, surprised and annoyed. "That's mine! It was literally in my mouth."
Lando smiled, his gaze full of mischief.
"Yeah, and? So was I this morning and in a lot of other days."
I felt my face heat up instantly and the staff started laughing and leaving us alone.
"You're impossible, did you really had to tell that I had your cock in my mouth this morning in front of everyone?" I muttered, trying to hide my embarrassment. But inside, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of amusement. Lando always had this ability to put me off my guard and make me laugh at the same time.
He leaned a little closer, still licking my lollipop.
"Admit it, you like our dynamic, and I just hinted that you had my cock in your mouth, they don't have to believe me." he said, his tone playful but with a touch of sincerity. "Even if it was true."
I crossed my arms, trying to keep a serious expression.
"What if I say I don't like this dynamic?" Lando laughed, a light and infectious sound.
"Then I'll have to keep stealing your lollipops until you admit that you like me. And not just my sexy body."
I couldn't help but smile. "You're so childish," I said, rolling my eyes in an exaggerated way.
"Maybe," he replied, shrugging. "But you love it." He licked lollipop again and, before handing it back, looked straight into my eyes. "Do you want it back?"
"Of course I do, I paid for it," I replied, holding out my hand. Lando held the lollipop out of reach, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Only if you admit you like me." I sighed, knowing he wouldn't let me off the hook easily.
"All right, Lando. I like you. Now give it back."
He smiled, genuinely pleased, and reached up to put the lollipop near my mouth and when I opened it, he put it in.
"See? That wasn't so hard."
I took the lollipop, feeling his fingers rub against mine.
"You're an idiot, you know that?" I said, but with a smile that I couldn't hide.
Lando laughed again. "That may be, but I'm the idiot you like."
And as soon as I took the lollipop out of my mouth, he pulled me in and kissed me. It certainly felt like one of those movie kisses that makes you stop breathing and the butterflies in your stomach flutter like never before.
We had kissed before, but every time I had the same feeling of happiness.
"See you later?" He whispers with his lips still close to mine.
"Of course, we're sharing a room." He laughs and gives me one more kiss before going into the garage and leaving me smiling like a teenage girl after kissing the boy she likes.

Bonus scene!
Yourusername inatagram stories
“Who doesn’t love a lollipop.”


#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 x you#f1#f1 instagram au#lando norris fanart#lando norris one shot#lando norris au#lando norris fanfic#lando norris icons#lando norris smut#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris mclaren#lando norris#lando norris x you#lando norris x oc#lando norris x y/n#lando norris masterlist#lando norris angst#lando norris series#lando norris social media au#lando norris drabble#lando norris fluff#lando norris f1#ln4#ln4 x reader#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#ln4 fluff
632 notes
·
View notes
Text

DUMB— chris sturniolo x reader
synopsis: reader is smart and top of her class in college. chris however, is not too interested in her intelligence.
warnings: full on smut, swearing and also drinking/smoking, use of the pet name baby, use of the word slut, dumbification, oral (f! receiving), unprotected sex
“hit her from the back she can’t do nothing but yell,
and she smart as fuck i got this bitch straight out of yale”
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
Ever since you were younger, you seemed to have a gift for memorising and holding information. Because of this, people assumed you studied constantly.
Obviously, you did study. But it wasn’t like you didn’t have a social life. You enjoyed college parties like any other person would.
So when a guy in your class invited you to his frat house for a party, of course you didn’t refuse.
The only thing was, this guy just happened to be Chris.
He was in your social studies class, usually sat at the very back with a couple of his friends in the lecture. You knew of each other, having shared mutual friends from other classes. You’d never really spoken to him one-to-one, mainly because he was always socialising with pretty much everyone, and while you weren’t shy, you also weren’t a huge fan of jumping into conversations with people who all knew each other prior.
It also didn’t help that Chris was the most attractive man you had seen in college, or maybe in your life.
You were good at hiding it, but he made you nervous. Of course, when he invited you to his fraternity house, you faked an air of confidence so you didn’t weird him out.
“Hey, it’s Y/N, right?” Chris began, and when you affirmed with a nod he continued, “I’m throwing a party tonight, you should come.” He threw a smile in your direction, and you pushed down the immediate feeling of giddiness before answering.
“Yeah sure, sounds good. When does it start?” You asked nonchalantly as you could.
“Around 10. You can come whenever, it will be on way into the morning anyway.”
“Great. Am I good to bring a couple friends?” You replied, not wanting to walk into a party alone.
“Yeah that’s fine with me. Ask your friend Lola, my buddy Nate has a thing for her. Just don’t tell him I told you that.” He smirked at you.
That smirk. You wished you could see that smirk while he was hovering over you as he sla—
“Lola, yeah! I’ll bring her along with me.” You snapped out of your less than decent reverie and gave Chris a response.
“Perfect. I’ll see you there, Y/N.” He gave a quick glance up and down your body before turning and walking away from you.
It was then you realised, you had absolutely nothing to wear. Plus, since Chris just personally asked you, you decided you may as well dress as hot as possible.
Y/N: hey lola, frat party tonight?
Lola: do u even have to ask??? usually it’s me dragging u to these things
Y/N: true lmao. i’m gonna need to borrow something from ur closet
Lola: ooooh why, do u need smth slutty?
Y/N: maybe
maybe i was personally invited by the party thrower
Lola: who
Y/N: chris 😇
Lola: GIRL-
ok ok i’ll give u the sluttiest thing i can find
come over later and we can pick something out for u
A couple of hours later once you were finished at college, you headed to your best friend Lola’s dorm.
You two had spent what seemed like hours choosing each other’s outfits.
“By the way, a little birdie told me that Nate has a thing for you.” You eyed Lola up, knowing she had a soft spot for him.
“Oh, really? That’s interesting. Totally unrelated but would you still happen to have that box of condoms I gave you for secret santa last year?” Lola gave you a suggestive look, raising her eyebrows.
“Of course. Already put two in my bag.” You both laughed.
You arrived at the party at 11:27, mainly because no one turns up to a party on time, but also because Lola took a ridiculous amount of time to get ready.
You met up with a couple of girls from the dorms opposite Lola, seeing as they were also invited.
As soon as you arrived, you were immediately shown to the kitchen where an array of bottles were displayed.
Vodka, whiskey, rum, tequila and practically any spirit you could think of, were decorated around the kitchen.
You grabbed two cups, one for you and Lola, and filled it with vodka and soda.
“Hey, I think I see Nate and Chris over there.” Lola points behind you through to the games room, where lo and behold, Nate and Chris were playing what looked like an intense game of beer pong.
The two of you walked over to them, Nate noticing you first.
“Hey! Come help me win the game, Lola.” He gestured for her to play with him.
Chris had then turned around to see you, that smirk appearing yet again.
“You gonna help me?”
You took a quick swig of the contents in your cup before joining Chris at the table.
“Atta girl. Nice of you to bring Lola for my bro.” He spoke in a low voice so that only you could hear.
“Chris, stop flirting and throw the damn ball.” Nate teased, and you felt your cheeks grow red.
Chris threw the ball into the cup closest to him, the object landing into the beer and making a splash.
“Drink up, fool.” he glanced at you to make sure you were watching.
After a while, you had enough to drink to give you a confidence boost, and were now invested in the game of beer pong.
It was down to one cup each, and you had to make the final shot.
“Come on, Y/N,” Chris spoke from behind you, “you got it.”
It was too hard to concentrate with his voice so close to your ear, and his body so close to yours. You threw the ball, but it narrowly missed the cup.
“Yes! Chris you’re a loser!” Nate laughed at his best friend across from the table, throwing his arm around Lola who had locked eyes with you as he did this.
‘Don’t forget the condom’, you mouthed to her playfully, and she winked, pointing to her pocket.
Nate and Lola had then disappeared together, leaving you alone with Chris.
“Sorry I missed the cup.” You joked.
“Apology accepted. You wanna smoke with me?” He pulled out a perfectly rolled joint from his pocket.
You weren’t a huge smoker, only joining with Lola occasionally when you felt like unwinding.
Nevertheless you agreed, deciding you may as well since you were at a party.
Chris lead you upstairs into his room. Your eyes immediately glanced around the room, taking in its appearance.
Chris sat on the edge of his bed, and you followed.
“Could you get my lighter, it’s in the top drawer over there.” He pointed to the bedside table at the wall, and you grabbed the device, passing it to him which he thanked you for.
“Lola and Nate seem to hit it off.” You spoke.
Chris held the joint between his lips, lighting it before replying, “he’s down bad for her. Has been for a while.”
You giggled to yourself, knowing Lola felt the same about him. It was a good feeling for you, because you knew Nate was a nice guy.
“They’re a good match. Nate’s a good guy for her." You responded, watching Chris take the first hit of weed and exhaling the thick smoke.
“Yeah? Is that what you’re into? Nice guys?” He asked you, taking another hit before passing it to you.
You took the joint from his hand and inhaled.
“I guess. I think I prefer someone more… unpredictable.” You had Chris in mind as you answered. You had yet to figure out why he invited you here himself, since you didn’t know each other that well.
“In what way?”
“I don’t know, someone I can’t figure out. I like to be kept on my feet, someone like Nate is easy to understand because he’s straightforward. Which is great for Lola, she deserves someone who is like that.” You thought about all the past few guys Lola had a thing with. They weren’t that nice.
You passed the joint back to Chris who had his eyes trained on you as you spoke.
“So you like the tension, not knowing when or if someone wants you.” He tried to understand.
“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice when it’s easy. But..” You trailed off.
“It’s more fun not to know.” Chris finished your trail of thought as if he knew the feeling.
“Exactly.”
A comfortable silence sat between you, passing the joint back and forth until it was gone.
“I have a question.” You asked, breaking the silence.
Chris tapped the joint out on his bedside table, and brought his attention back to you, “Go ahead.”
“Why did you invite me here? I mean, it’s not that I didn’t want to come, it’s just that we haven’t really talked much.” You asked, needing to know.
Chris chuckled.
“I thought it was more fun not to know?” He smirked, using your own logic against you.
“Come on! Tell me.” You persisted.
Chris leaned in closer to you, and you could swear your heart was beating out of your chest.
“I always see you in class,” He began to explain, continuing to close the gap between you, “sitting close to the front, answering all the questions. You’re pretty smart, aren’t you?”
The tension was palpable, and you felt yourself grow wetter as his low voice penetrated your ears.
“I want an answer.” He demanded.
“I- I guess so.” Your voice wavered, all of a sudden finding it hard to speak.
“I’ve always wanted to see how long it takes until I can make you speechless.”
And it surely didn’t take long, because in moments his lips were on yours.
It was as if every guy you had dated never existed, the feeling of Chris kissing you overrode any experience you had thus far.
His left hand rested on the back of your neck while his other hand took the opportunity to roam around your body, from your thighs to your chest, until it landed on your waist.
Your hands swiftly made their way to his arm and hair, while deepening the kiss he had started.
In a quick movement he lifted you onto his lap, letting both his hands find purchase on your waist.
With your arms wrapped around his neck, you slowly moved your hips rhythmically, earning a soft grunt from him.
Pulling away, he spoke, “You want to do this?”
You nodded, before asking the same of him.
“Do you?”
That same smirk that sent you reeling reappeared again.
“Does this answer your question?” He grinded his hips upwards into you, allowing you to feel his growing hard-on.
A whine escaped from your lips.
“No more talking.”
You reconnected your lips to his, the energy of the room turning into heated passion.
Chris’ hands slowly dragged down to your ass, kneading them with roughness.
You whined again, unable to stop any sounds from leaving your mouth.
The sound of the ongoing party downstairs could be faintly heard from inside the room, but you paid it no mind. You couldn’t, not while Chris had all his attention on you.
He briefly paused to take off the top you were wearing, and then resumed with his skilled tongue, sliding against yours. He took you off his lap, not separating from you for a moment as he laid you down on your back.
“Such a smart girl in class,” he pulled his shirt over his head and threw it behind him, “Does anyone know that you’re really just a little slut?” He kissed your neck, then your jaw.
“I need an answer.” Chris demanded again, and you rubbed your thighs together in want.
“No.” You breathed.
“No, what?” His hand glided up your thigh, separating them.
“I’m not a slut.” You managed to find words.
“So if I reach in between your legs, right now, you won’t be dripping for me?”
You knew you were.
A hand snaked through your skirt, pulling aside your underwear, and he slowly dragged a finger down your pussy.
“I’ve barely touched you. Do you want me to? Want me to touch you right here?” His finger, coated in your slickness, inched its way inside, just enough for you to feel it, but not enough to satisfy you.
You bucked your hips up, trying to feel something, anything.
But Chris pulled his hand away, causing you to whine in frustration.
Luckily for you, he wanted to feel you so badly, he couldn’t tease you for long. He grabbed the hem of your skirt, pulling it down your legs and threw it in the same direction as his shirt.
“I want to hear you. You love opening that mouth when we’re in class.” And with that, he pulled your underwear aside and attached his mouth straight to your throbbing clit.
All you could do was moan and writhe in his bed as he delved into your wet cunt, licking up all the arousal like a starved man.
Your hands flew to his hair, tugging on it desperately. The vibrations from the groan that left his mouth sent waves of pleasure tearing through your body.
Chris’ hands dug into the flesh of your thighs as they instinctively tried to close around his head.
“Fuck, right there!” You moaned loudly as his tongue dove inside your hole.
One of his hands left your thigh and drew circles on your clit, causing you to arch your back at the white-hot pleasure you felt from his ministrations.
Chris could feel his dick pulsate through his pants at the sounds you were making. He needed to feel you.
“You want me to fuck you, huh? Fill you up good?” He asked, and you knew by now he wanted an answer.
“Please, please, please.” Were the only words you could muster, too high on the feeling Chris had given you with his mouth.
He wasted no time on giving you what you were begging for, quickly discarding his pants and boxers, along with your bra and soaked panties.
Lining himself up with your entrance, he slid his dick over the slick of your pussy and pushed the tip in.
Your eyes had shut in anticipation, but when he made no attempt to move you opened your eyes to look at him.
He had waited until you made eye contact with him before pushing his entire dick inside you.
You both moaned at the full feeling, your walls contracting around him.
After a few seconds, Chris began to move.
Thrusting in and out at a slow pace as if to torture you, he shuddered, revelling in the feeling of your tight cunt.
“Fuck, feels so good baby.” You whined at the pet name, bringing his face down so you could kiss him again.
He started picking up the pace after this, your tongues smashing together in absolute need.
“Faster, faster.” You babbled, drunk off the sensation of his cock piston in and out of you.
“Yeah? You want me to fuck you dumb?” He grunted, loving how you could barely string full sentences together.
“Yes, yes, please. Need you deeper.”
The dirty words spilling from your mouth caused him to moan, and he flipped you onto all fours.
“Wanna see that pretty little ass bounce while I fuck you.” He muttered as he entered you yet again.
His pace was relentless, his balls slapping against you from the way he was pounding deep inside you.
You were just making sounds as you tried to say “Harder, faster, more,” but the words couldn’t form properly.
“The slut wants more? Can’t even speak but you’re begging for more?” He taunted you from behind.
You felt a sharp slap on your ass, followed by a soothing rub directly after. You practically yelled as Chris’ hand came down, your cunt convulsing.
“Knew you’d like that,” he slapped your cheek again, “Can feel you squeezing around me.”
You could feel the knot in your stomach unraveling, and you knew you wouldn’t last longer.
“Chris, gonna cum.” You managed to speak between moans.
“Come on baby, need you to cum while I’m inside you.” He groaned, trying to hold his own release off.
His words guided you right to your orgasm, shaking and crying while you came.
“Fuck, you want my cum inside you? Want me to stuff you full?” His pace was losing rhythm, chasing his orgasm while simultaneously overstimulating you.
“Mm, cum inside me. Want to feel it.” You cried, thrusting into him so you could feel more of him.
“So good, feels so good. Oh, I’m gonna cum inside of you,” Chris rambled, “Gonna fill you up with it.”
His moans were uncontrollable, spilling out of him as he relished in the warm feeling of your pussy.
“Cumming.” He grunted, as ropes of his cum spurted out, coating your insides until there was nothing left.
You both took the time to catch your breath, as Chris pulled out of you with a shaky sigh.
“Let me get you a towel.”
You turned onto your back once more, trying to comprehend the mind blowing sex you just had while dozens of people were partying downstairs.
Chris came back with a towel, cleaning the both of you up and passing you your underwear back.
“Hey.” You finally spoke, tired from all the stamina you had just burned.
“Hey.” He replied back to you.
“That was… amazing.” You sighed.
“Yeah, it was fun.”
You weren’t sure if he wanted you to leave now, or if you were supposed to stay, so you opted to do nothing.
“Let me take you on a date.” He announced, and you laughed.
“Don’t you think we’ve done this all a little backwards?”
Chris smiled and brought your head to his shoulder.
“I guess I’m just unpredictable.”
You then remembered you didn’t even use the condom you brought with you. You’d have to make your first date with Chris a trip to the pharmacy.
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
a/n haha…. always wear a condom, kids!
hope you enjoyed my first oneshot.
send me any requests you want me to write! i think i’m gonna do an nsfw alphabet next, for chris and matt too
#Spotify#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo x reader#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#the sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#nick sturniolo#chris sturniolo oneshot
1K notes
·
View notes