#idk but maybe i like to think y/n is emotional like me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cockkette · 1 month

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meet the piastris

oscar piastri x reader

warnings - pregnancy, children (is this a warning idk maybe), this is disgustingly fluffy, insinuation of smut, mention of death (as a joke), i think that's it xoxo

face claim - girls on pinterest

oscarpiastri

liked by y/n.l/n, mclaren and 378,728 others

tagged: y/n.l/n

oscarpiastri: so excited to see what the future holds for our family and i'm incredibly lucky to share this with the love of my life

comments

y/n.l/n: how could you do this to me

oscarpiastri: ?

y/n.l/n: this is so sweet but now i'm crying and covered in snot

y/n.l/n: i love you (we have run out of tissues)

oscarpiastri: i love you too (i'll buy them on my way back home and some hot chocolate)

user1: i need someone that is as down bad for me as oscar is for y/n

user2: ikr man is whipped

oscarpiastri: have you seen her shes gorgeous?!?

user3: OSCAR JACK PIASTRI THE LAST PICTURE!!!

user4: the gasp i gusped

landonorris: my honest reaction 😋🥰😍

y/n.l/n: 🤔 please stop thirsting over my husband

landonorris: i'm so sorry queen it won't happen again 😔🙏

user5: what just happened

landonorris: she's scary pregnant ☹️

mclaren: we can't wait to meet the baby papayas! (zac does need to have a chat with you about what is appropriate to post on social media)

oscarpiastri: why?

user6: unbothered king

user7: served

mclaren: i give up

landonorris: warming up for my uncle duties

oscarpiastri: who told you, you can be their uncle?

landonorris: 😨😰😫🤢🤮😵

y/n.l/n: wait i feel bad

y/n.l/n: you can be their uncle ig 🙄

landonorris: yes! i'm going to buy them go karts

user8: y/n are you sure this is wise?

y/n.l/n: his emotional vulnerability got to me (also please don't buy my babies go karts)

logansargeant: i'll be their favorite uncle though right?

y/n.l/n: ofc 🩷

oscarpiastri: oh definitely

user9: uncle logiebear!!

landonorris: uncle lan*

logansargeant: you guys are going to be the best parents, i can't wait to meet the little ones

oscarpiastri: no please i've just stocked up on tissues

y/n.l/n: THANK YOU THIS IS SO SWEET I'M SOBBING I BET THEY CAN'T WAIT TO MEET YOU TOO

user10: i can't wait for dad oscar content

y/n.l/n: neither can i

user11: he's going to look so hot

y/n.l/n: HEY! he's mine

oscarpiastri: what she said!

user12: i love them

yourbestfriend: i hope they take after y/n looks wise xx

oscarpiastri: me too

y/n.l/n: they better do i've been the one carrying them around for nine months

y/n.l/n: but also osc is hella cute so its a win win

yourbestfriend: you two are disgustingly cute

y/n.l/n

liked by landonorris, yourbestfriend and 604,921 others

y/n.l/n: welcome to the world freya and ruby piastri you are already so loved

comments

user13: they are adorable

oscarpiastri: the most adorable ever actually

y/n.l/n: agreed

landonorris: wait they are so tiny are they meant to be that small?

oscarpiastri: mate.. they are babies but are you meant to be that small?

landonorris: 😔

user14: gagged

danielricciardo: congrats

liked by y/n.l/n and oscarpiastri

lilymhe: their names are so cute

lilymhe: and so are they

y/n.l/n: thank you bby

user15: i have such bad baby fever and you are not helping

y/n.l/n: you may want to avert your eyes because they are literally going to be my entire feed from now on soz

user16: i don't blame you queen they are too precious

liked by y/n.l/n and oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri: we make cute babies

y/n.l/n: we really do

oscarpiastri: we should have some more

user17: sir it has been 2 days

liked by y/n.l/n

mclaren: our future driver lineup

liked by oscarpiastri

y/n.l/n: oscar! unlike this i don't think my heart could take watching them race

lewishamilton: congratulations guys

liked by y/n.l/n and oscarpiastri

landonorris: have you got the clothes i sent them yet?

y/n.l/n: yes thank you it was so... thoughtful of you to buy them shirts with your face on

landonorris: they have to know who their favorite uncle is

oscarpiastri: and the best way to do this was through a shirt?

landonorris: correct

yourbestfriend: sending mine now

logansargeant: me too

user18: the whole grid is all so excited for them!!

user19: it's so sweet

oscarpiastri: i think they just want to see who will be the favorite

yourbestfriend: i’m going to spoil them so much

y/n.l/n: you already have

yourbestfriend: well i'm gonna spoil them even more

charles_leclerc: future ferrari fans

maxverstappen1: future redbull fans*

georgerussell63: future mercedes fans**

oscarpiastri: no 🧡

liked by mclaren

logansargeant: can't wait to meet them!!

y/n.l/n: they can't wait to meet you either!!

user20: they can't talk

y/n.l/n: a mother knows x

mclaren posted a story

liked by y/n.l/n, oscarpiastri and 24,218 others

caption- we send our congratulations to oscar and y/n as they welcome freya and ruby piastri to their family and as we welcome them to the papaya family

replies

y/n.l/n: papaya girls! 🧡

mclaren: the mclaren merch is on the way

y/n.l/n: only if it's 81 merch

user21: freya and ruby mclaren takeover when?

user22: looking forward the dad oscar content

y/n.l/n posted two stories

liked by mclaren, yourbestfriend and 14,801 others

caption- race day !!

replies

user23: manifesting an oscar win 🏆

y/n.l/n: vroom vroom

yourbestfriend: i'm coming over again (to see the girls)

y/n.l/n: aww i've missed you (so have the girls)

francisca.cgomes: missing you in the paddock

y/n.l/n: miss you too

liked by mclaren, lilymhe and 23,014 others

caption- i don't think the girls are as invested as me yet 🤔

replies

yourbestfriend: i'm speeding to get there they are so cute

y/n.l/n: omg be safe please

user24: i wish i was freya or ruby

mclaren: living their best life

oscarpiastri

liked by y/n.l/n, yourbestfriend and 418,329 others

tagged: y/n.l/n

oscarpiastri: babies day out

comments

user25: they are 6 months old and are literally living my dream life

liked by oscarpiastri and y/n.l/n

user26: don't mind me i'm just going to find a cliff to jump off x

y/n.l/n: the best type of days

oscarpiastri: especially with you

user27: he's so disgustingly in love

user28: y/n could make anyone act like that

user29: osc is his girl's personal photographer

user30: we love him for that though

user31: we need our y/n, ruby and freya content

yourbestfriend: all three of my girls are looking adorable 🥰

oscarpiastri: my girls

yourbestfriend: know your place x

liked by y/n.l/n

oscarpiastri: Y/N!?

landonorris: when are you letting me babysit 😠😠

oscarpiastri: ...soon

landonorris: YOU HAVE BEEN SAYING THIS FOR 2 MONTHS

landonorris: its never going to happen is it

user32: poor lando

lilymhe: hot mama 😘

y/n.l/n: stop i'm blushing and giggling rn

oscarpiastri: damn everyone is trying to steal my girl today 😔

user33: she is hot tho

liked by oscarpiastri

y/n.l/n

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 438,623 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

y/n.l/n: the dad oscar content you have all been waiting for xx

comments

y/n.l/n: my husband is so so hot 🥵🥵🥵

user34: no need to rub it in

user35: how does it feel to live my dream

y/n.l/n: it feels amazing 😘

user36: thank you y/n we all say in unison

user37: thank you y/n

user38: thank you y/n

landonorris: thank you y/n

y/n.l/n: get out of here 🤨

user39: never beating the twinkclaren accusations

user40: foaming at the mouth

user41: oscar with his babies i'm going to combust

oscarpiastri: i'm putting the second picture in my wallet

y/n.l/n: you're so cute i'm sobbing 🩷

user42: he's so girl dad

liked by y/n.l/n

user43: he's so daddy

y/n.l/n: well yes actually

oscarpiastri: oh-

landonorris: my eyes!!

oscarpiastri

liked by yourbestfriend, mclaren and 346,717 others

tagged: y/n.l/n

oscarpiastri: date night (thank you to logan for looking after the girls)

comments

user44: waiting patiently for lando's breakdown

y/n.l/n: my date is so fit 😍😍

liked by oscarpiastri

landonorris: WHAT

landonorris: HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME

landonorris: do you want me to cry

y/n.l/n: we texted you...

oscarpiastri: yeah we wanted 2 people to look after them since it was the first time leaving them without family

landonorris: what!?!??

user45: i can feel his devastation through the screen

georgerussell63: he's been bitching about this for so long and he didn't see the message 😂😂

landonorris: leave me alone 🖕

user46: my favs

logansargeant: the girls had so much fun with their favorite uncle

landonorris: 😢😢

carmenmmundt: you better have bought her the flowers

alexandrasaintmleux: you better have treated her like a princess

oscarpiastri: ofc only the best for my girl

oscarpiastri posted a story

liked by y/n.l/n, mclaren and 34,521 others

caption: one year of loving you two 🧡

replies

user47: i think i can finally tell who is who

user48: wait no

y/n.l/n: our babies are growing up

oscarpiastri: maybe we should have another then

y/n.l/n: when the girls turn 2 we can talk about it

oscarpiastri: i guess we will just have to practice until then

y/n.l/n: when do you get home?🤭

y/n.l/n

liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren and 567,308 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

y/n.l/n: happy 1st birthday to my babies STOP GROWING THEY ARE GETTING SO BIG I CAN'T HANDLE THIS 😫😫

comments

user49: i'm so invested in the piastri twins i'm crying at their birthday post 🥲🥲

user50: we are witnessing piastri world domination 💪

yourbestfriend: where has the time gone

y/n.l/n: i swear they were born last week

oscarpiastri: they are growing up so fast 🩷

y/n.l/n: i've been crying about this all week

user51: she is all of us

user52: i just know their birthday party was banging

landonorris: the cake was amazing

mclaren: are ruby and freya enjoying their presents?

y/n.l/n: they love them!! thank you mclaren 🧡

a/n - thank you for reading i hope you enjoyed and as always any feedback is apppreciated <3

#f1 #formula 1 #oscar piastri #op81 #f1 x y/n #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri social media au #oscar piastri smau #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri fluff #op81 x reader #op81 imagine #oscar piastri x y/n #🏎️

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amandabbbbb · 1 month

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summary: after the scene where ward drops rafe at barry’s and tells him to not come home but barry’s sister pogue!reader tries to comfort him even though rafe is soo mean to her like woah but it’s a happy ending

tw: mention of drugs, idk rafe cries a lot, parental issues, rafe calls reader kid and bitch once

word count: 762

“don’t come home, son,” ward says, his voice cold and final, as he walks away from his only son.

“where do you want me to go?”

“dad! dad!” rafe’s desperate calls echo into the night, but ward doesn’t look back, leaving rafe alone in the darkness in front of barry’s and your house.

“hey, barry, open the fuckin door! i know you got the coke, dude, come on. please just open up!” he’s begging on the verge of tears. “barry, if you don’t open this god damn door, i’ll fucking smash it down myself. i need coke, man!”

you slowly open the door, and before he even sees you, rafe shoves his way inside, causing you to stumble back slightly. he collapses onto the couch, his movements frantic and erratic. “barry, what took you so long? christ, give me your best coke. i need that shit now, dude” he demands, his voice thick with barely-contained emotion. when he finally looks up and sees you instead of barry, he quickly swipes at the tears streaming down his face, trying to hide his vulnerability.

“oh, hi, rafe! sorry, i had my headphones on. wanna listen? oh my god, are you crying?” you ask, your voice laced with genuine concern.

“no, jesus fuck, y/n, where’s your brother?”

“oh, um, i think he’s down by the shipyards doing a deal. sorry, rafey,” you say, offering a gentle smile.

rafe pulls himself up quickly, furiously searching for the drugs he so desperately craves. “where’s his coke? i know you know where he keeps it. go find it. don’t just stand there helplessly. you’re so goddamn stupid! fuck!”

“why are you being mean to me? you’re never mean to me… i don’t know where barry keeps the coke, rafe.”

he yells at the top of his lungs, “it’s like you have no fuckin brain. you’re just a useless dumb blonde.” (sorry i’m blonde)

the harsh words cut through you, and you can’t bear his anger. you turn and flee to your room, tears pricking your waterline, blurring your vision as you go.

your whole teenage years, you knew rafe as your older brother’s richest client, who he secretly would rip off. but as the years went by, he started buying barry’s more hardcore drugs, not just weed. you got to know rafe more as barry’s regular client. he would constantly stick around, always flirting with you and bringing you gifts when barry wasn’t looking.

“y/n, don’t shut me out. don’t be a bitch, come on, open the door. i need the coke. you don’t understand, help me here, okay,” he pleads.

you’re scared. you’ve never seen him like this; he’s always treated you like a princess. you yell as he bangs at your thin bedroom door, pushing the wood so hard it starts to crack. “go home, rafe!” your voice shaky and filled with fear.

the banging stops suddenly, your words echoing in the sudden silence. the quiet stretches on, each second feeling like an eternity. cautiously, you peek out of your bedroom door thinking maybe he finally listened to your advice. “rafe, you there?” you call out.

he’s sitting on your couch, tears running down his face, hyperventilating. “i can’t go home. i’m a liar, an addict, a thief, and i can’t be trusted, so my dad said he can’t have me in his house. i have nowhere to go.”

you slowly approach the couch where rafe sits, his face hidden in his hands. his body is shaking, and the room is filled with the sound of his ragged breaths. “rafe…” you say softly, your voice trembling as you try to offer some comfort. “you, um, can stay here tonight.”

he looks up at you, his eyes red and desperate, filled with a depth of pain you’ve never seen in him before. “i don’t deserve you, kid. fuck, i’m so sorry. i never wanted you to see me like this. i thought i had everything under control, but now you probably hate me or some shit…”

you sit beside him, offering a soft, reassuring smile. you put your hand in his. “it’s okay rafey. i could never hate you. we all have moments when shit falls apart. it doesn’t change how i see you. you’re tired. i’ll set up the couch for you.”

rafe’s eyes search yours, a flicker of regret softening his expression. “i didn’t mean to take it out on you,” he says, his voice low and raw. “i just… i don’t want to be alone. y’know, on the couch. not tonight.” the words hang in the air, heavy with his unspoken need to hold you tonight.

1K notes · View notes

astonmartinii · 1 year

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no more ace to play [mamma mia part two] | formula one social media au

drivers: sebastian vettel, fernando alonso and jenson button

the investigation was fruitful but now y/n has a handful of drivers and a bucket load of criticism

general note: i answered an ask about this but i thought i'd reiterate here, this is a no wives or kids au, so seb and jenson's wives and kids do not exist in this !! thank you so much for all the lovely feedback on the last part, hopefully i remembered to tag everyone who asked x

part one | masterlist | ko-fi

yourusername

liked by sebastianvettel, jensonbutton and 1.405,605 others

tagged: fernandoalo_oficial, sebastianvettel, jensonbutton

yourusername: so i guess it's kinda real now and they're all lovely x

view all comments

user4: i know the bitter old people are going to find this now but i for one think it's fucking ICONIC

user5: the guys are way too chill for the situation

user6: they've not said anything, so how would you know?

user5: idk reeks of babytrapping

user7: be for real y/n doesn't need to baby trap anyone she has her own career?

yourbff: debrief needed STAT

yourusername: literally on my way to yours right now get the non-alcoholic wine READY

landonorris: do i like get a prize for my hand in this?

yourusername: here's a gold star ⭐️

landonorris: i was hoping for some monetary rewards

yourusername: ur literally a millionaire ?

landonorris: and?

user8: are any of them gonna like comment or?

user9: very odd considering they wouldn't shut THE FUCK UP on their own posts

user10: for real they were very proud of their 'accomplishments' but now it's the consequences of their actions and theyre silent ?

user11: have yall considered the fact that finding out you might be a dad is a bit of a shock, let them all process it?

jensonbutton

liked by lewishamilton, sebastianvettel and 302,889 others

jensonbutton: back to see the old rides

view all comments

user12: SPILL JENSON PLEASE

user13: so like what team is this kid going to support they've got so much to choose from?

user14: if they have any taste, ferrari 💅

user15: i mean their momma clearly has taste so ....

oscarpiastri: nice to meet you jenson!

jensonbutton: by how much mark talks about you i could've sworn i'd already met you

aussiegrit: bold of you to send shots my way considering your current predicament

user16: mark saying this like they aren't lucky to be with y/n ?

user17: bro we all saw that you met up with y/n and the baby daddy squad... wanna maybe share some thoughts?

user18: why would he want to publicise that he got with a slag?

user17: i know you're not calling y/n a slag when we're talking about f1 playboy JENSON BUTTON ?

user19: i have complete faith that this mamma mia summer WILL have a good ending but i NEED these men to maybe actually talk about it so people aren't just out here coming for y/n ?

yourusername

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, jensonbutton and 1,209,677 others

yourusername: got myself a sweet treat and did some meditation (i.e. listening to asmr roleplay) because life is crazy and morning sickness is a bitch

view all comments

user24: not to be sappy but i am emotional watching y/n go through this, she's been on the internet for so long i feel like i've watched her grow up, idk anything about f1 but i hope they're good for her

yourbff: gosh who knew you getting pregnant would lead to us having to go to the bakery every single morning

yourusername: but but but they have such good croissants and SHUSH I BUY YOU YOURS EVERYDAY

yourbff: i know you're like my sugar mama, please still buy me pastries when you have your actual child

user25: i think we're all being a wee bit dramatic about the whole "they haven't said anything" business. yes, they probably should say they're fine with it so people stop accusing y/n of baby trapping them but ALSO we don't know what they do everyday, maybe we should just let the adults go about their business

charles_leclerc: i am basically seb's kid so i shall be a character witness: that man is an ANGEL and believe me that took a lot for me to say in public lol

yourusername: why thank you charles, i have heard a lot about you. in fact on his "provisional dad cv", sebastian directly named you, some guys called max verstappen, mick schumacher and lance stroll as fatherly experience

maxverstappen1: LOL I KNEW SEB LOVED ME BUT WTF IS A DAD CV

sebastianvettel: this is a serious matter and i wanted to show that i'm serious about fatherhood

mickschumacher: soz max, charles and lance i think WE all know who his favourite is

lancestroll: i'm just happy to be recognised tbf

yourusername: well i kinda hope this real child will be his favourite...

charles_leclerc: boring 🥱

alexalbon: well i'm gonna nominate myself as jenson's grid kid and woah that guy is great 👍

jensonbutton: sounds kinda sarcastic but thanks for the effort alex

carlossainz55: seeing as we're all here i'll say that nando is the best grid dad sorry not sorry

yourusername: you're all here but idk who you people are ?

fernandoalo_oficial: chilli have i ever told you how proud i am of you?

stoffelvandoorne: do i mean nothing to you old man

user26: wtf is going on here

fernandoalo_oficial

liked by yourusername, sebastianvettel and 1,403,677 others

fernandoalo_oficial: what a race! thankful to finally be back on the podium this weekend and i'd like to dedicate this race to the soon-to-be new addition and my new family, here's to our future ❤️

view all comments

user27: HOLY SHIT THIS IS SO CUTE

user28: i'm sorry the THUMB IN THE MOUTH CELEBRATION ARE YOU KIDDING?

jensonbutton: proud of you, come home quick x

user29: i'm sooooo chill about this

fernandoalo_oficial: i'll make sure to tell the team that THE jenson button wants the meeting to go faster

sebastianvettel: do i mean nothing? that's literally my old team name drop ME

yourusername: just tell them i've gone into labour

fernandoalo_oficial: you've not even been pregnant two months yet...

yourusername: they don't know that

astonmartinf1: this is a public instagram comment section...

maxverstappen1: maybe when the little one is actually here i'll let you win for once

fernandoalo_oficial: how kind of you?

maxverstappen1: i need the little one to know that at least one of you is cool and that i should be their favourite god father

lewishamilton: now that is a bold assumption

danielricciardo: i have been quiet on this topic but if anyone is prime god father material YOU'RE LOOKING AT HIM

yourusername: you'll all receive an email and a god father application in the coming weeks

charles_leclerc: is this another seb idea?

yourusername: maybe... but idk yall so i think it's a good idea

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, mickschumacher and 1,509,874 others

tagged: jensonbutton, fernandoalo_oficial, sebastianvettel

yourusername: welcome to the crazy house

view all comments

user33: so we've confirmed the poly? yes or no?

user34: i'm gonna say yes but with them you literally never know

georgerussell63: so we all sent them a jellycat?

alexalbon: speak for yourself george that sick ass rocking bunny is all albon

user35: not to be weird but this kids is literally going to have the hottest parents of all time

user36: no cause if i'm a teacher and all of them walk in for parent's evening i'm passing out

jensonbutton: oh wow what a lovely crib i wonder who put that together

fernandoalo_oficial: don't you dare take all the credit

sebastianvettel: as if anyone other than the WOOD WORK KING put that together

yourusername: guys they are lying the delivery guy put it together and they all stood around watching like dads at the airport

jensonbutton: "like dads" so still getting the experience in

danielricciardo: so who is responsible for this grandpa ass nursery aesthetic?

yourusername: well this is awkward i thought it was cute

fernandoalo_oficial: it is don't worry honey, it matches seb's overall grandpa aesthetic

sebastianvettel: you guys agreed to move to mine don't switch up on my aesthetic now

jensonbutton: oh seb we all love your certain affinity for tartan and plaid

sebastianvettel: i'm not feeling this love right now :(

yourusername: cuddle pile incoming

note: ahhh okay this was very highly requested so i hope it met expectations. i'm thinking this could defo be a longer series (i am also working on into the arms of another dw) following the whole family if yall would like that? i'm gonna try and tag everyone who requested that, i am sorry if i missed anyone x

taglist: @boiohboii @vellicora @faithm120601 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @luv4kani @minkyungseokie @eugene-emt-roe @magical-spit @ironmaiden1313 @jaydaaasworld @whoreks @rainerax @nonsensical-nonsence @laneyspaulding19 @chelseyyouraverageluigi @lxclerc @gemofthenight @woweewoowa

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #sebastian vettel instagram au #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel imagine #sebastian vettel x you #fernando alonso instagram au #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso imagine #fernando alonso #jenson button instagram au #jenson button x reader #jenson button imagine #mamma mia au #astonmartinii

3K notes · View notes

wonryllis · 7 months

Text

daddy issues, my little girl (m) | park jongseong.

﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ぃ ────𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗺𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹�� 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹,

preview. you had always had daddy issues, for as long as you could remember. so when jay came along with his caring nature, how could you possibly keep your feelings at bay? not to forget, your roses of love have wilted long before you even knew what love meant but jay, he’s here at your doorstep with a watering can. will you be able to refuse?

or where, new neighbor dr jay park is asked to babysit you over the week. ironically the only man you have ever had a crush on. you are so determined to put aside the feelings but jay makes things so much harder. he is way too sweet and caring and you are way too pessimistic and insecure. how is it going to work with you gravitating towards him in inadvertence and jay welcoming your presence with candor radiance? especially with all of your buried issues coming to life more than ever. false hopes and reserved secrets, reluctant truths and feelings that linger deep. he is right there, two doors away to reach. so why is it that love still feels so far?

meet the cast. daddy park jongseong(jay) with his doll fem!reader

genre. neighbour to lovers, age gap (like 7 years), romance, SMUT MDNI!!, comfort angst, fluff, happy ending, doctor(might change that)!jay with his precious girl. jay literally always at his girl's beck and call, he cares about you a lottttt trope. the "i know you can do it, but let me do it for you" trope. kinda ddlg concept idk? he's like your pillar, comfort person and just everything you have ever needed. practically your dream man come to life. subject to additions later on.

word count. 18-19k so far, est around 35k revamp + second installment.

warnings. DARK THEMES: hints of: daddy issues, attachment anxiety, inferiority complex, abandonment issues, depression, childhood emotional neglect, philophobia, insomnia, social anxiety, hints at emotional/psychological abuse, gaslighting, hints at being suicidal, people pleaser syndrome, mommy issues, thantophobia, atelophobia, atychiphobia, pistanthrophobia, avoidant personality disorder, body dysmorphia. more could be added on release and nsfw warnings will be mentioned in full fic.

theme song. daddy issues by the neighborhood and future by red velvet. on the side you can listen to: love letter by bolbbalgan4, adore you by harry styles, pacify her by melanie martinez, cool kids by echosmith, your existence by wonstein, teenage dreams by katy perry ..

RELEASING. TBD, progress ! 57%

"i’m home!” slipping off your converse, you put the pair inside the shoe cabinet near the entrance and close the wooden door in a sigh before trudging in. the lights in the living room are dimmed, something your parents would never do. it catches you a tad bit off guard but nevertheless you try not to think too much. considering the silence surrounding you they most definitely are out for work and as usual forgot to turn off the lights. with cautious steps you walk futher inside, with all intention to sneak in a pack of chips from the kitchen like a thief even though at this point you’ve practically come to the conclusion you’re home alone, but one can never be too careful.

a cat like shriek leaves you when your eyes land on the back of a figure sitting on the couch, your phone almost slipping through the grasp of your fingers as your eyes widen in shock. startled, your heart more or less stopping in a screeching brake for a split second.

the man visibly flinches at the sound of your voice,“who are you?!-” standing up and turning around to face you,“jay?”

“god y/n, you’re gonna make me deaf,” he complains, face contorting into a tender, teasing expression; a small smile gracing his lips as he walks around the couch and leans against the top of the backrest. you watch as he looks at you, so softly that it makes you wonder, has anyone ever in your entire life looked at you like that? a look radiating such gentleness. maybe not, not until now that is.

“you got home early today, i thought you’d be out for two more hours?” his brows raise in a questioning manner as his gaze shifts to go over the time showing on your living room clock.

“uh, well i was working on a project the last few days but i finished it yesterday so,” you speak unsure if you should even be telling him this instead of asking what he’s doing in here.

“oh okay, that’s good,” taking off his overcoat he walks into the kitchen, folding up his dress shirt’s sleeves on the way,“what do you want for lunch then? do you want to eat takeout? or should i cook you something? you must be hungry,” he takes out a bottle of cold water from the fridge and pours in a glass for you, sliding the cup on the countertop towards you as you approach the space in hesitant and confused steps.

his questions dumbfound you, leaving your brain at a loss, still dazed from his presence before you,“what? why are you asking me that? and what are you doing in my house?” you ask, looking completely clueless when jay turns to look at you expecting it to be some kind of a sarcastic remark. but the lost look in your eyes has him surrendering even if it does turn out to be some joke.

“taking care of you,” jay smiles, straightening his posture in an upright position and moving closer to the counter across which you stand,“technically, babysitting,”

“babysitting? me? but,” it baffles you, is this some prank or are you supposed to know something you don’t? your mind’s mechanical gears slow down, friction arising in between them. you don’t remember anything regarding or relating to the term babysitting. there’s no way he’s serious.. right?

“doll, didn’t your parents tell you they’re gonna be out on a business trip for a week? they asked me to look after you while they’re gone,” what.

yes these past few days when you couldn’t catch a hidden, one-sided glimpse of him in the elevator you did feel weird. and you definitely did subconsciously wish to run across him again, even though you were on a mission to avoid him, but this; this is not what you would’ve liked, this is not what you wanted. this is far from what you can handle, what your messed up self can accept.

“no?” the look on your face has jay almost spilling a laugh, the way your features contort to a whiny crying expression. how cute. he thinks.

“that’s okay, now you know,” trying to imitate you, he scrushes up his nose in a slight pout, reaching out to pat your head twice. and there goes your heart. you never thought you’d like head pats this much, you only remember getting them twice from your father but it felt different. it used to annoy you because he would mess up your hair but the way jay caressed your head it felt you had accomplished something, so gentle and careful yet still close to a ruffle.

taglist ( open. ) @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @lheebra @boyfhee @defnotfertilizedtoesw @brownsugarbaybee @skylaly @sparklovespink @luvyouchuu @ming-h0e @cha0thicpisces @butterflywonie @kgneptun @haechansbbg @m3chigo @wonsbaer @woncine @eneiyri @siyen @wonyoungsvirus @heesquared @enhafim22 @velvtcherie @ineedsomezzz @simjyunnie @seochangbinnnnnnnnnnn @wonkifangirl @sweetwonieee @luvnicho @fakeuwus @sunpov @notevenheretbh1 @kaykay11sworld @saurxcream @shawnyle @monstaxdirtywonk @wannieepisod @woozixo @sophi-ee @rikiwaify-blog @fluerz @iselltulips @belowbun @yunjinsbbg @enhasnuggles @enhaswirlds @enhastolemyheart @jooniesbears-blog

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kisses4reid · 3 months

Text

ruined surprises | ·˚ ༘ aaron hotchner ,,

summary - you accidentally find a small, red, velvet box in aaron’s drawers.

genre - fluff, nonbau!reader x aaron, proposals, engagement rings, happy ending

warnings - mentions of anxiety, mixed feelings, um… being proposed to???

w.c. - idk why i put this here i never check before uploading. it’s only like 1k you’ll be okay.

a/n - hey pia why don’t we edit those drafts for the requests- no. ima do my own thing 😏🕷️also pls tell me abt mistakes i did not proof read this lol!

You sat at your dining table staring into space, or more specifically the bare wood in front of you. There were mixed emotions coursing through your veins. You felt as if your blood was changing from pink to green in the ugly mesh of conflicting feelings.

While this revelation brought you happiness and immense excitement, it also brought you fear. You were not supposed to find this, at least not now.

It stood prominent in your pocket, a pandora’s box of possibilities on how Aaron would react to your discovery. Would he be scared? Angry? Sad?

Your fingers picked at your nails as you took steadying breaths. The clock read only 5 minutes before Aaron returns from his vigorous job, 5 minutes before you’d have to reluctantly tell him you found the one thing he had been hiding from you.

The front door opens to your apartment and your palms start sweating in insecurity.

He’s tired, he’s worked all day, maybe it’s not the best time to bring it up. But what if he found out you knew the whole time? You’d be lying to him, and he values honesty above all else. What if it’s not for you? A gift, or maybe even an heirloom? Everything in your head started to doubt the one thing you wanted it to mean.

“Honey?”

Aaron stood at the end of the table, eyebrows low and eyes squinted slightly in concern. Coming home to your favourite person disassociating rigidly wasn’t a very warm welcome home. He would usually be greeted by a kiss, or the smell of a meal, or a bear hug. This was off, this was different.

“Aaron.” You smile, genuinely. Even with your anxiety raising your heartbeat by the second, there’s nothing that can keep you smiling from the sight of your handsome lover. Though the feeling was not long lived.

“Are you okay?” He asks, placing his bag down on the table and loosening his tie slightly.

“I’m… We need to talk.” You say with a gulp. You lowered your head and glanced at his expression quickly. It came out more serious than it needed to be, and honestly Aaron started thinking the worse.

He sat on the chair next to you and searched your avoiding eyes, “Y/n-“

“Before you say anything, and before I tell you about what,” you waved your hands slightly, “we’re actually talking about. I need you to know that if I’m wrong you can’t laugh at me, and you can’t get angry. Okay?”

He nodded more confused than ever. Okay so, the fact that he could possibly laugh from this ‘talk’ was a sign it wasn’t anything too bad. He only wished you’d stop taking deep breaths and get too it.

You sighed, tired of your own stalling before reaching in your back pocket and putting a small, deep red velvet box on the table. Aaron’s dark eyes latched onto the box and he sighed, bringing a hand up to mess with his hair in shock.

“Do you know what’s in there?” Maybe you hadn’t-

You nodded. He nodded back and closed his mouth in a tight lipped grimace. This was not how he planned his proposal to go.

You took a deep breath and quickly defended yourself, “I lost my sports bra, and I thought maybe I put it in your drawers accidentally so I opened them and found… that.”

Aaron looked into your eyes, you looked scared but as he watched your eyes soften he knew that you weren’t scared of the implications, you were scared you had done the wrong thing.

“Thank you for not pretending to be oblivious.” He said smoothly, receiving a small smile in return. It warmed his heart. Jesus, he thought you were breaking up with him.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have looked through your stuff. I’ve ruined the surprise, your surprise-“

“It’s okay.” He smiled, bringing his hand over yours, pulling it to his mouth and kissing your knuckles. You smile softly and he continues, “Honestly, it’s a little embarrassing.”

“How?” You tilted your head and furrowed your brows, running your thumb over the back of his hand softly.

“Now you know I want to marry you.” Aaron’s cheeks reddened only slightly, and you laughed to bask in it. It wasn’t often you got your lover blushing.

“You told me you wanted to marry me on our fourth date. Trust me, I remember.”

He laughed this time and looked down at the box. “Did you like the ring?”

“I didn’t get a good look because I shut it immediately. I pinched my finger in the clasp.” You displayed your fingertip as proof, “But from what I saw, it was perfect.”

You didn’t ruin his plans at all, he thought. It wasn’t a terrible revelation, you didn’t give it to him and run away, you didn’t let him down easy. You were honest and turned the moment into a core memory. You laughed. Everything was good when you laughed.

Aaron placed a soft hand on your cheek and placed a loving kiss on your lips, you smiled into it. “You’ll just have to wait longer now.” He whispered jokingly, to which you slapped him on the chest and whined, no fair.

No. What wasn’t fair was that he would get the best life, with the most perfect wife in the world, and others wouldn’t.

But it was hard to feel sorry for others when you were in front of him.

About a month later. Aaron Hotchner decided he couldn’t wait any longer.

Aaron’s arm was on the back rest of the couch, legs stretched on a foot rest and you cross-legged beside him explaining the deep lore behind the movie that was playing in the background. You were blabbering on, voice changing between characters that you tried to imitate, and topic lighting up your face more than the TV screen.

And Aaron’s heart just couldn’t take it. He needed to ask you to marry him more than he needed anything else in the world. Those four words seemed to be the only cure to his love sickness (though he knew it would only get worse).

You laughed at one of your own jokes, and started to calm down your explanation.

“And that’s why the first actor got replaced.” You smiled and placed your hands in your lap, face triumphant. Aaron smiled softly, eyes tracing your face with love and adoration.

“Can I ask you a question?” He asked.

You nodded, thinking it would be about the movie, “Of course.”

“Will you marry me?” He took the familiar velvet box from his sweatpant’s pocket and clicked it open, cheeks hurting in a smile as the ring was exposed to you for the second time. Aaron mentally scolded himself for not having a speech ready but seriously, he had not planned to do it tonight. It was a yearning, a need. Everything he would say to you, he promised to say a million times in your marriage as to not feel guilty about the bland proposal.

You held a hand over your mouth. Eyes glistening quickly, heartbeat seemingly still in your chest.

“Yes, oh my god. Aaron- Yes!” You threw yourself on him and squeezed his shoulders and back in a hug so tight he had to pat your back to get you off.

Not that he wanted you to stop, he just wanted to see you with a ring on your finger as quick as he could.

perm taglist (open!) - @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es @0108s22m @aurorsworld @theoraekenslover

#criminal minds #aaron hotch oneshot #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x fe!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotchner x you #🍵 —☆ pia’s pages

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sunsburns · 3 months

Text

naked in manhattan

pairing: tashi duncan x fem!reader / implied art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: you’re just hours away from a flight that will change your career forever—one that will take you to london, england, for the 2012 olympics, a milestone you never thought you’d reach. thrilled yet trembling with nerves, you find yourself at the hotel bar, celebrating alone. it does not help when you run into art donaldson and… his wife?

—or: you and tashi rekindle an old flame

word count: 6.9k

contains: SMUT 18+, smut with a lot of plot, semi-public sex (a gym at the middle of the night so idk if that counts), mid-challengers movie (a year after the atlanta scene with tashi and patrick), angst with no comfort, fingering, homewrecking, cheating but also not cheating but also a worse third thing, no use of y/n, old situationship best described in terms of “casual” by chappell roan (iykyk), art is lowkey a shit starter

author’s note: so i finished this a while back and added it to my queue and did not realize i put it for july instead of june so LOL MY BAD. this is kinda like a prequel to “good luck, babe!” but you don't need to read that to get this. alsoooo thank you for all the love and feedback in “good luck, babe!” i’ve read every single message and tried to reply to all of them! you guys are so sweet and inspired me to write more! thank you thank you <3 i hope you enjoy this one!

Manhattan, New York City, 2012

"I hope you're planning on getting laid tonight."

Your drink is cold, the ice cubes clinking against the glass as you swirl the straw absentmindedly. The dim lighting of the hotel bar casts a warm, golden glow over everything, making the polished wood of the bar counter gleam. Around you, the murmur of conversations, bursts of laughter, and the occasional clinking of glasses create a lively yet intimate ambiance. You glance at the TV mounted in the corner, where a muted sports channel displays highlights from a basketball game.

You try not to snort into your drink at the words of Patrick Zweig on the other end of the call. You push your phone closer to your ear, unable to bite back the grin spreading across your face.

"Are you serious?" you ask.

"What?" Patrick's tone is mockingly innocent, full of playful mischief.

"I thought you called to say something a little more... I don't know, sincere? Heartwarming?"

He lets out a loud, boisterous laugh that you can practically feel through the phone. In the background, you hear the faint sounds of a city—honking cars, distant chatter, and the occasional bark of a dog. The noise fades slightly as Patrick likely moves to a quieter spot, and you can almost picture him getting in his car in some other state—you think he's in Arizona.

"The only kind of warming I wanna hear about is cockwarming," he retorts, his voice dripping with mock seriousness.

You make a face, "You're disgusting."

"I mean it," he insists, still laughing. "I'm actually so jealous of you right now. You qualified for the Olympics, for fuck's sake! How's your mom doing? Did she have a heart attack? Did she call you already? I hope she packed you some condoms. There's gonna be such a wide variety. Literally every country in the world."

"Shut the fuck up, Patrick."

Your mother did call, her voice crackling with emotion over the phone just before Patrick rang you. She told you how proud she is of you, how she can't wait to watch you play and tell everyone she knows that her daughter is an Olympic tennis player. A gold medalist, maybe.

Her words echo in your mind, filling you with a warmth that battles the nerves simmering beneath the surface.

You take a sip of your drink, savouring the blend of fruity and bitter flavours, a welcome distraction from the whirlwind of thoughts. You try not to spill it on your Ralph Lauren sweater, custom-made, just for the Olympics, with your name stitched on the arm.

Around you, the hotel bar is alive with the buzz of other athletes celebrating with their teams. The fellowship is appreciable as laughter and cheers fill the air. But for some single athletes, like yourself, it's a different story. You feel as if you're in high school all over again, too awkward to make friends, hoping someone braver than you will come by and say hello first.

"You better not be sitting at the bar alone, drinking that orange juice you like."

"A sangria isn't just juice, you dick," you retort, rolling your eyes.

"You're such a loser."

You do feel a little bit like a loser, sitting alone at the bar, but you know you shouldn't. You're hours away from your flight to London where you'll have the chance to play tennis in the Olympics. This is all you've ever wanted since you were a child, all you've been working for—sweat, blood, and tears. You can't even remember a time when you've dreamt of something other than this.

Tennis has always been your escape, your sanctuary. You remember those early days when you played with second-hand rackets and makeshift nets, the local court becoming your second home.

And then there was Patrick, your closest… friend(?) and fiercest rival. His encouragement, his competition, and his company kept you grounded and motivated. When the going got tough, the dream felt too distant, and all of it made you feel far too guilty as if you had stolen someone else's life, Patrick was there to reassure you that you deserved it just as much as the next. Without him, you likely would have walked away from the sport you love.

"I can't believe you made it to the Olympics before me," Patrick's voice pulls you back to the present, a mix of envy and pride lacing his words. You can almost see the playful smirk on his face, a familiar expression that often surfaced during your countless matches together.

"I wish you were here, Pat." Your voice softens, the longing evident. It was hard to track down Patrick Zweig, especially while he was constantly on the move, hopping from state to state, playing as many challengers as he could sign up for, each match a stepping stone toward his dream of winning the US Open. And you think he will. You've played against him enough times to know he's better than you at hitting a ball with a racket.

There were nights when you'd both crash in a shabby motel or back at your place after a gruelling day on the court, strategizing and critiquing each other's play styles (sometimes in more than just tennis). His tenacity was a beacon for you, pushing you to strive harder and to reach further.

His voice softens, becoming more earnest. "Yeah, me too. I'll try to get tickets for one of your games in London. If not, I'll catch up with your mom and watch it with her. Is your dad still in the picture?"

You roll your eyes, a reflex to his familiar teasing. "Oh, my god."

"I'm just asking," he chuckles. "Listen, I'm gonna let you go, 'cause I've got a date tonight. But call me when you land."

"Oh, yeah, okay." You try not to let the disappointment seep into your voice, but it's hard. It's not like you and Patrick were together, at least not publicly, at least not in the sense that you couldn't see other people. But even as you tell yourself that, a knot tightens in your chest.

It feels a bit teenageish, you think, messing around with friends and acting like it means nothing just to avoid making things awkward. Yet, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were leaving something unsaid, something unacknowledged. Patrick was one of the few people in your life who kept you on your toes and made you feel good—truly good.

Now, the idea of him with someone else, going on dates while you chase your dreams, feels like a betrayal you can't quite articulate. But what right do you have to feel that way? You never made things official, never dared to cross that line.

You never bothered to search for love outside of tennis.

"Have fun on your date," you manage to say. It comes out more brittle than you'd hoped. "Talk to you later."

"Bye!" he says, oblivious to the turmoil in your heart. His voice is light and carefree, and why wouldn't it be?

You end the call and set your phone down on the bar with a bit more force than intended, the hollow thud echoing your frustration. The bartender glances your way and you try to flash him an honest smile before ordering another drink. The TV overhead flickers, switching from basketball highlights to a recap of the latest tennis matches. You watch the screen without really seeing it.

The bar is still lively, yet you feel an overwhelming sense of solitude. You can't help but feel like you're stuck in limbo—caught between your dreams and the reality of your personal life.

You take a deep breath and a long sip of the rest of your first drink, the cool liquid doing little to ease the heat of frustration building inside you. You tell yourself you should be happy, grateful even. But right now, all you can think about is Patrick, and how much easier it would be if he were here with you.

But he's not. And maybe he never will be.

Maybe no one will.

Maybe you will die alone, your tennis racket as your only companion.

"This seat taken?" A familiar voice breaks through your thoughts.

You turn, startled, "No-" you start, but then the blur of blonde hair comes to focus and you're stumbling over your words, "Art? What- what are you doing here?"

"Oh," he smiles, a shy faint red blush already growing on his pale skin. He sits beside you, almost hesitantly, "Just stopping by the city. I saw you and thought I'd say hi."

"Hi." You return his smile, albeit a bit warily.

It's been years since you last spoke to Art properly, though your paths have crossed a few times. You've seen him in magazines, TV, and brief passings usually at major tournaments—Wimbledon, the Australian Open, the US Open. Each time, there were shy smiles and waves from across the room, lingering eyes, and awkward conversations where mutual friends tried to reintroduce you as if you hadn't once known each other

Art looks different every time you see him. His hair, now a little shorter than you remember, still maintains that boyish shagginess. There's a darker tan on his skin, evidence of his time spent under the sun. Some days he has a brighter smile, other days, it's a smile that never reaches his eyes.

As he sits there, you can't help but think of how golden his hair used to look whenever he wore his old Stanford hat, the one he used to pull low over his eyes during your college days. The memory makes you aware that you're staring, maybe a little too long. But he's looking at you too, his blue eyes trailing from one end of your face to the other, as if trying to memorize it all, capturing a photograph of who you are now.

A warmth spreads through you under his gaze, and when he finally looks away, you turn too, tapping at your empty glass, pretending to seem interested in the way the ice has started to melt.

But your eyes betray you, slowly trailing back to him. You watch the way he sits, the way he calls over the bartender and orders himself a glass of water. You try not to notice the deep timbre his voice has gained over the years, and how it resonates in the noisy bar. He looks at you, then the empty seat on your other side, and finally scans the room anxiously, as if he's searching for someone or something.

"He's not here," you finally say, breaking the silence that has grown too heavy. "If that's what you're wondering."

He nods, trying to act nonchalant but failing miserably. "What city is he in now?"

"Vegas, I think."

He makes a face and rests his chin on his hand. "There's no challengers in Vegas this month."

"Then he's just visiting. I don't know." The truth is, you don't want to talk about Patrick right now. Especially not with Art. Not after the way they ended things. You watch Art shrug, and the bartender sets your drink in front of you. You take a grateful sip, savouring the blend of flavours. Art holds his glass carefully, and the two of you sit in strained silence for a moment, the noise of the bar fading into the background.

You can't help but ask, "What are you doing here? In Manhattan?"

"I have an interview tomorrow. For the New York Times," Art says, leaning back slightly. He seems a little surprised as if he expected you to sit there without acknowledging him for the whole night. It makes you wonder what he thinks of you. "They're doing a piece on my career, the highs, the lows... the beginning and stuff."

You study his face, trying to gauge his emotions. You know what it's like to be interviewed, to have a team of people making you look your best for photos and another team crafting answers to help you maintain your reputation. It’s exhausting and thrilling all at once. "Congrats, I'm happy for you."

"Thank you. If anything, I should be congratulating you. Olympics? That's huge..." He continues talking, his lips moving, but you’re barely registering the words. For the first time that night, he seems genuinely enthusiastic, a faint spark in his eyes as he talks about you, about London, gesturing with his hand in excitement.

That's when you notice it. The gold around his finger. It glimmers under the warm lights of the bar, catching your eye like a beacon. You can't stop staring at it even after he's done talking.

"Oh, yeah. It's great." The words feel hollow as they leave your mouth. You struggle to find the right response, not wanting to be rude. "You're married?"

His face falls, and he looks down at his hand resting on his lap. "Oh, yeah, yeah. We, uh..." He scratches the back of his head, his eyes darting up to meet yours briefly before looking away. He seems nervous, like he's bracing for your reaction, worried to tell you, as if you weren’t supposed to know at all. "We got married last year. We kept pushing the date for a while because we were... we were busy... and stuff just kept getting in the way."

"We...?"

"Tashi."

"Tashi," you echo, the name tasting foreign and bitter on your tongue. "You're married? You married each other?"

He nods, "Yeah, we've been engaged for a few years now. You haven't heard?"

You feel a lump form in your throat. "No, uh. My coach tries to keep me away from certain news... my mom suggested it. So I don't get uh, distracted."

This is exactly the kind of situation your team has been trying to avoid.

The reality of his words sinks in, and you feel a sharp pang of something—loss, regret, maybe even jealousy. The air around you feels thicker and harder to breathe. Each word he says feels like another brick being laid on your chest, pressing down, making it harder to stay composed.

"Oh. Yeah, that makes sense."

You force a smile, but it's a fragile thing, threatening to shatter at any moment. "That's... that's great, Art. I'm happy for you. Really. How was... how was the wedding?" Your mind races with thoughts of broken promises and missed opportunities. You imagine Tashi in her wedding dress; you know she looked beautiful. The image stabs at you, and you wince.

"It was beautiful. Both our families came in, and we kept it traditional, in a church. It was..." He pauses, watching you before adding, "It was a small ceremony. Private. Just family."

His words twist the knife deeper. Tashi's family used to see you as such. "No, yeah, I get it. Wouldn't want any trouble at the wedding. I'm happy for you. I'm happy for the both of you." You turn to the bartender, desperate to keep your voice steady. "Hey, can I get another drink? Something stronger?"

Patrick was right; your stupid orange juice won't get you through the night.

Art watches you with concern, his brow furrowing. "How many of those have you had?"

You laugh, but it sounds hollow even to your ears. "Not enough."

"Does your coach know you're drinking?"

"Does yours know you're talking to me?"

Art leans back, his posture stiffening. He turns to his drink, the ice clinking softly against the glass as he takes another sip. The silence that follows is thick and uncomfortable. You watch as he processes your words, his expression shifting from defensiveness to something more pained. You instantly feel a pang of guilt, realizing you've struck a nerve.

You've heard all about Tashi's coaching with Art. Whispers in the locker rooms during tournaments, hushed conversations about how she's pushing him until he cracks. You never wanted to believe it, never wanted to think that Tashi, of all people, would be the one to break him down.

"She calls you Ace, you know."

You make a face at the name. A journalist had written an article about you a few years ago when you won your first US Open, nicknaming you Ace since your serves were almost impossible to hit. The nickname stuck, plastered across headlines, magazine covers, and merchandise. People even bet on you becoming the youngest tennis player with the most aces in history before the season ended. You were only off by a dozen.

"Does she?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady, unaffected.

"You do have a killer serve."

You scoff, shaking your head. "Killer." The word feels bitter on your tongue. "Tashi used to hit those back at me like it was nothing."

Art nods, taking another sip of his drink before pausing to look at you. "Only 'cause she knows you."

"Knew," you correct him.

The silence stretches again, heavier this time. You're about to say something, anything to break it, when Art speaks again, his voice softer, more earnest.

"I miss you."

What. The. Fuck.

"I do," he insists, leaning forward, his eyes searching yours. "I miss hanging out with you. I miss playing with you. Watching your games live and not recorded on my TV."

"Art, c'mon." You feel the dread crawling up your throat, wishing you had left the bar sooner. Every word he says seems to pull you deeper into a past you've been trying to escape. Art has done nothing but throw you off your game all night.

"I miss you outside of tennis, too," he continues, his voice tinged with regret. "I miss our late-night walks, studying in the library. You remember those?"

"Of course I do."

"Tashi misses you, too," he says, and you can tell he's crossing a line, testing your patience. You can feel the corner of your mouth twitch, your eyes unable to meet his. "She tells me every night. She's always keeping up with your stats, watching all of your games, rewatching your old ones. She makes notes for you, how you could improve. She wants to coach you."

"Art, stop it," you finally snap, turning to face him. The night feels ruined, any semblance of peace shattered. Was this all some elaborate scheme against you? After all these years, is this how they repay you? Out of spite? Is that what it is, a way to get back at you because you somehow got it all, and Tashi's taking whatever she can scrape off from Art?

"I don't want her to coach me. And I highly doubt she wants to coach me either."

"I booked the hotel," he says suddenly, his voice softer, more sincere. "She doesn't know you're here. And I really think it will be good for you two to talk." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small piece of paper, placing it carefully on the bar in front of you. "Here's our room number. I'll be out tonight with some friends, so the room is yours till late. Just, don't kill each other or break anything if you fight."

"I'm not going—"

"She really does miss you," he interrupts, his eyes searching yours for any sign that you might understand, might relent.

You stare at the piece of paper, feeling its presence like a burning brand. Art stands up, hesitating for a moment as if he wants to say more but thinks better of it. "I mean it. Think about it," he murmurs before turning and walking away, his footsteps echoing in the hollow space of your mind.

You watch him go, each step he takes pulling at the threads of your carefully constructed facade. As he nears the entrance, your eyes follow him instinctively, and that's when you see her. Tashi. She's standing there, with her bags looking around with a familiar intensity, her eyes scanning the room until they lock onto yours.

You feel sick.

Meeting Art was a pleasant surprise; he makes your heart race and your cheeks burn. But Tashi makes your heart stop and your brain shut off.

She looks different—older, more mature, hair straight and cut to a mid-length but also a lighter colour—but still heartbreakingly familiar. Her eyes widen slightly as she recognizes you.

She opens her mouth as if to say something when Art stands next to her, pressing a kiss to her temple, but no words come out.

Your heart hammers in your chest.

The weight of her gaze is too much. You're the first to look away. You stand up abruptly, nearly knocking over your drink in the process. "Excuse me," you mutter to the bartender, slapping a couple of bucks on the counter. Your voice feels distant, and detached, as if it belongs to someone else.

You push through the crowd, your mind a chaotic whirl of emotions. You need air. You need space.

As you reach the elevator, you can feel Tashi's eyes still on you. But you keep moving, your footsteps quickening with each step. You need to focus on tennis. That's the only thing that's never let you down.

Tashi had once picked tennis over you, and now it was your turn to do the same.

You reach your room and close the door behind you, leaning against it as you finally let out the breath you've been holding. The walls seem to close in on you, and you slide down to the floor.

You need to remember why you're here. For the game. For the dream. And that has to be enough.

Only one problem.

You can't sleep.

Hours later, you find yourself in the hotel gym, the quiet hum of the machines the only sound in the stillness of the night. Your mind is racing, a chaotic swirl of thoughts and emotions you can't control. Desperate for an outlet, you hop on a treadmill and start running, hoping to exhaust yourself into some semblance of peace.

Anything is better than sitting in the hotel lobby, scouring the internet on the public computer for any proof of Art and Tashi's marriage while drinking wine straight from the bottle.

Art was right, it was a small wedding. There were almost no photos of it caught by the paparazzi, only articles upon articles talking about it, magazine covers and everything. God, how could you have missed this? How out of the loop were you?

There was only one photo posted, and it was from Tashi's Facebook and Instagram from less than a year ago; a picture of just her hand holding onto Art's, where you can see her wedding ring. There was no caption. But the photo had millions of likes.

You wonder if Patrick knew. He probably did. He stalks her account religiously and only recently started to tone it down. And then there's you, who had her blocked on everything since your last argument.

The music playing in your ears drowns out the world around you, a heavy beat pulsing as you hum along. Your eyes fixate on the rising numbers on the treadmill screen, sometimes glancing out the window at the city skyline, other times catching your silhouette in the glass reflection.

Sweat makes your clothes cling to you like a second skin, rolling down your spine in rivulets. You're still a little tipsy from your drinks, the taste lingering in your cheeks, but you think you're sober enough that a few more miles will drain it all out.

Art's words are burned into your mind. The wedding you were never invited to, how he suddenly wants to be friends again. You can see where he's coming from; tennis is lonely. You're lonely. You press the button to go faster, your legs burning as you push yourself harder, trying to escape the thoughts that chase you.

You don't hear the door click open, and it takes a few seconds for you to spot the reflection of someone walking behind you in the window's reflection, rolling out a pink yoga mat. But they don't step onto it, they don't move, and even worse, you catch their eye in the reflection.

Fuck.

It's Tashi Duncan.

Your heart lurches in your chest. You quickly look away, panic setting in. You turn your music up higher and make the treadmill run faster, the machine whirring louder in response. Your pulse races, not just from the exertion, but from the presence of the one person you can't bear to face right now.

In the corner of your eye, you see her approach you. When you hear her call out your name between songs, you pretend you can't hear her. You pretend to be captivated by the sight of the city at night, pretend that you're lost in the music as P!nk's voice blares into your ears, cursing out one of her old lovers.

You wonder how long you can keep the act up.

Tashi moves with a determination that you've always admired and feared. She walks around your treadmill, eyes locked onto you with a fierce intensity. Without hesitation, she reaches down and unplugs the machine from the wall, forcing it to power down abruptly.

Not long enough.

"What the fuck?" You huff, yanking out your earbuds. "What's your fucking problem?"

"You're my problem," she says, her voice steady, unyielding as she rolls her eyes.

"I haven't said a word to you."

"And that's my problem. I'm talking to you," Her gaze bores into yours, refusing to be ignored. You can see the resolve in her eyes, the same decisiveness that made her a force to be reckoned with on the court.

"I'm busy," you snap, and your breath comes in ragged gasps, both from the exertion and the emotional storm raging inside you. You feel trapped, cornered by the very person you’ve been trying to avoid.

You bite your tongue, stepping off the treadmill and walking around her when she steps in front of you. You make a straight line for your bag, watching her from the mirrors as she follows you closely.

"Can you listen?" It's more of a demand than an ask, "I just... Art told me what he did. He's a little shit, I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that. You have other shit to worry about."

You're taking long chugs from your water, staring at her without saying a word. Part of it is because you have nothing to say to her, and another is because you're afraid that if you speak, she'll see through you.

Tashi's eyes roam over you, lingering on your shorts and the way the wires from your earbuds snake from your iPod, under your tank, and peek out from under your sports bra. Her gaze is both appraising and filled with something unresolved between you. When you don't respond, she sighs. "You look great, by the way. On the court. You've changed your approach. You're vicious."

The compliment stings more than it soothes. You still don't say anything, letting the silence stretch between you like a chasm.

"...Or maybe you've always been. I haven't seen you in a long time. So a lot could've changed, I don't know."

You lower your bottle, swallowing the water. It feels cold as it runs down your throat, a stark contrast to the heat of your rising anger. You can't help the way your eyes drop to her hand when you pull your hair down from its ponytail. The sight of the ring on her finger feels like a punch to the gut.

She notices.

"We didn't want you to find out this way."

Your eyes snap up to hers. "And how was I supposed to find out?"

Tashi looks taken aback for a moment, her confident façade faltering. She takes a deep breath, as if bracing herself. "I don't know. Maybe we should've told you. Should've invited you. But I thought... I thought it would be easier for you if you didn't know. I didn't want to hurt you more than I already had."

Your laugh is bitter, devoid of any real amusement. "Easier?

"Look," Tashi begins, her voice tinged with a hint of impatience, "I'm not a fan of the way I ended things. But I think that keeping a grudge for this long is embarrassing. We were teenagers."

"You're right," you concede with a bitter chuckle, "it is embarrassing. But you know what's even more embarrassing?" Your voice rises, fueled by a mixture of frustration and hurt. "Having your husband come to me and tell me how much he misses me. And how you miss me. But you don't have the guts to tell me that yourself, do you? Do you miss me, Tashi?"

"Of course I miss you," she scoffs, her tone defensive. "You were my best friend. My serving partner. We played and won doubles together."

"Is that all I was to you?"

"Was there supposed to be anything more?"

There it is, the moment you've been dreading, the confrontation you've been avoiding. You can feel the familiar ache in your chest, "You know I fucking loved you, Tashi," you admit. "And yeah, whatever, everyone loved you. No one could get enough of Tashi Duncan. But you know damn well I loved you for more than just that."

"Loved?" She steps closer, her eyes searching yours. "You don't love me anymore?"

"No," you tell her. "I don't. I dropped out of your groupie a while ago."

"What do you love, then?" Her voice is almost a whisper, the distance between you closing.

"I love tennis," you confess, your gaze never leaving hers. "I love winning. Turns out I'm great at both. And I love that too. And people love me. That's more than you could ever give me. Or Art."

"Even Patrick?" The mention of his name is a sharp jab; she's trying to get under your skin.

"I don't know, you tell me." You're taunting her. And you love the way she falters for a split second. "You saw him at the Open last year, didn't you?"

The air drifting between you is almost palpable, shrinking smaller and smaller like it’s terrified of being trapped between you. "Listen," she says, her voice dropping lower, "I just came here to tie some loose ends. For Art's sake. He says It'll be good for me."

"Okay," you reply, seizing the opportunity to turn the conversation in your favour. Hook, line and sinker. "Is there anything else you want to get off your chest?"

Hook.

Tashi's eyes narrow slightly, but she takes the bait, her expression shifting to one of determination. "You raise your arm too high when you serve. You're gonna dislocate your shoulder one day."

"I bet you're waiting for the day I do."

"I can make you the best."

"Am I not already?"

Line.

"You're one of the best at most. But not the best. I'd be surprised if you bring back bronze. You're too short-tempered for silver. Let me coach you. I'll make sure you bring back gold."

"I don't need you," you say, the words catching in your throat.

"We both know you do," she whispers, her breath warm against your lips.

And sinker.

In that moment, everything else fades away, leaving only the two of you suspended in time. The words hang in the air, a silent challenge. You can feel the heat radiating from her, the closeness almost unbearable.

Without another thought, your lips crash together in a desperate kiss, a release of all the pent-up tension and longing that has simmered between you for far too long.

It's a whirlwind of heat and passion, each touch igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume everything in its path. Her hands are in your hair, pulling you closer, and you respond in kind, your body pressed against hers with a fierce urgency.

The kiss deepens a symphony of desire and desperation, all the words you couldn't say pouring into it with a fervour that borders on reckless abandon. You can feel yourself start to become absorbed into the bubble that is Tashi Duncan, it sucks you in, and it scares you, makes you feel as if you're sinking into the bottom of the ocean.

She grips the back of your neck, hard enough that her nails dig into the skin. Tashi waits for your gasp, and when you do, she pushes her tongue into your mouth, past your teeth until it collides with your own.

You're moaning, groaning into her mouth with the way she shoves you until your back hits the mirror behind you. You're arching into her at the way she fucking smiles against your lips at your reaction.

It's pathetic. You're pathetic. Almost in the same way Art is. You know it. She knows it. But in your defence, it's been a while since you've been kissed, it's been a while since someone's touched you this way, with heat and flavour. You're a little dizzy from it, cheeks flaring with embarrassment.

Tashi sucks your tongue into her mouth and you buck your hips against the thigh she's pressed between your legs.

There's a sweetness that lingers when she bites your lip, you wonder if she's wearing lipgloss, maybe chapstick. You hope she can't tell you've been drinking, that talking to Art made you spiral, that you've been bluffing since the moment she walked into the gym. Since the night she packed her things and told you she was leaving Stanford, her scholarship has no use since she can't play anymore.

When her hands run down your neck to your waist, gliding over the sweat on your skin, you can feel the cold touch of her wedding ring. It's frigid, making you shiver when Tashi starts to lick up the column of your throat. You almost feel bad about how wet you've become.

"Tashi..." you huff, her hands found their way to the base of your ass, guiding you to rock faster against her, only making you whine. Her grasp is tight, wanting. She pulls at your hips, slowly, dragging your crotch closer to hers and then pushing you back down on her leg. She repeats the motion a few times, rolling her own hips up into you a little more with each motion, and soon your muscles start to work so you can grind down onto her.

Tashi rewards you with a quiet moan—oh, you want her to do that again, you're going to make her do that again, louder and louder—and then, with a touch so light you could cry, she traces one hand over your hipbones and down to your pussy.

You can feel your stomach nearly drop, "You're married, Tashi."

She pulls away just to laugh at you. One finger traces your slit through your shorts, and you hear yourself moan. She raises her brows, a challenging look in her eyes, "Are you jealous?"

You try to scoff, but the cold glass of the mirror behind you squeaks when you shift. Even just this feather-light pressure through two layers of fabric, and every nerve ending in your body sets alight at once.

"What would Art say?" You try to say, your hair falling over your face as you try to collect some kind of morality. If you were caught, you can already imagine the headlines and the stories people would write about you. "What would he do if he found us right now?"

"I don't know," Tashi hums, leaning closer. She pretends to think as if the answer isn't obvious, teasing you a little when she gets close enough to kiss you but doesn't. "He'd probably ask to join."

You can't stop the way that thought alone makes you melt. You remember the jokes Patrick used to make back when you were in college, of you and Tashi being his wet dreams. You can almost imagine, how he would moan at everything, want everything, his whiney moans too similar to the ones he makes when he's on the court.

Tashi rubs gently at your pussy a few more times like she's exploring you, and then suddenly she taps right where your clit is. You cry out, and she sighs against your mouth. "You're so wet. You like it when I touch you?"

"Yeah, please... touch me." You nod. And in your head, you're telling yourself you only like it because you haven't been with anyone since Patrick left for his tour.

Tashi kisses you again, and it's a tangle of teeth and hands and smiles kept hidden, as you slip your fingertips beneath her shirt she starts to fumble with your waistband, and you're both angry and resentful and incredibly destructive, but it doesn’t matter yet.

Her fingers are clumsily slipping into your underwear and then she's there, her fingers are brushing right against your clit—you're so wet that her fingers brush right through your folds, gliding like silk, and by the time she reaches your hole, two fingers easily sink in right to the knuckle.

Tashi leaves you gasping and she teases you for it. "So sensitive," she taunts against your lips, pressing her thumb against your clit so she can see you squirm, pumping her fingers at an urgent pace to hear you moan. "So needy."

With each movement, she scissors her fingers a little, spreading you wider every time, and she starts to mouth at your neck with hot, wet kisses. "Do you like that, yeah? Am I making you feel good? I am, aren't I? I'm exactly what you need. C'mon say you want me. Tell me you need me, Ace."

"Maybe—" You're breathless, and the nickname has you tugging at her hair again, "Shit, I saw the way you made Art. He... oh god... he wouldn't be half the athlete without you. I also... I also wouldn't want to ruin my shoulder... while—while serving."

"I'm not talking about tennis."

For a moment, you worry that you've fallen for a trap, that you've said too much. You're vulnerable, a little drunk on lust and wine, and Tashi isn't stupid to not catch your sapphic crush on her since the two of you became friends, an old high school love that's never really disappeared, from slumber party kisses and how you've gawked at her, at her husband and even her ex-boyfriend.

"C'mon, Tash, you're always talking about tennis."

"Not this time."

You barely catch onto what she says. Your body feels like it's going through the most intense orgasm of your life, especially now that she's given up on pumping her fingers in favour of curling them in rapid beats against your g-spot, but you know that you're not even coming yet: you're close, though, judging by the way the room is spinning around you, and the pressure building in the pit of your stomach—"I think I'm close... oh, I don't—fuck—keep touching me like that."

She bites your neck until you say her name. You pull her hair until she moans. Her touch is blistering against your skin. She says your name in a breathy drawl like she's pleading with you, humouring you, wanting to take everything from you.

"Keep going, please, please don't stop," you all but shout, and Tashi continues the massaging movement right up on your g-spot: the positioning of her hand means the heel of her palm is dragging over your clit, and your hips are frantically grinding up into her hand—you're gonna come, the world feels like it's crashing down around you.

Every muscle in your body tenses up and through it all you hear Tashi whispering, come on, that's it, I've got you, come on, come on, and then you're coming—

Distantly, you can feel her fingers continue their movements inside of you, unrelenting—and the other hand keeps a firm grip on your hips, grounding you onto her lap—but other than that, all you know is the pleasure slamming into each nerve in your body, one by one and then all at once. A hot sting against your skin that reminds you of the sun whenever you're on the tennis court, deep into the game you've turned into the love of your life.

It can't have possibly been this long since the last time you've gotten laid, right?

Then, suddenly, you're back in reality. Tashi is heaving for breath against your shoulder and her fingers are back to a slow, steady pumping, in and out of your swollen pussy. "You're so pretty, you know that? No tennis talk."

You lean your head back against the mirror, a slow grin forming on your lips, "You don't think I'm pretty when I play."

"I think you're hot when you play."

You peek a glance at Tashi, meeting her eyes as she watches you, watching the way you catch your breath, skin shining against the fluorescent lights of the gym, similar to how you shine on the court. Yeah, you're a sight for sore fucking eyes.

Tashi takes slow, taunting steps back and away from you, and then she brings her fingers to her mouth and sucks, moaning around the digits, and through hazy eyes, you can see the most fucked-out look on her face just at the taste of your cum.

She licks her fingers clean—you feel your pussy clench down again at the sight—before opening her eyes, fixing you with an intense stare, and panting, "I'll be in my room," she rolls up her pink mat (which she never used) and picks up her bag, "I'm sure you know the number. I'm hoping you can return the favour and touch me or something. You know, before you leave in the morning."

tags 🏷️: @begoniaespresso / @sceletaflores / @too-deviant / @wolflover384 / @sevikasblackgf / @supercutszns / @diorrfairy / @24kmar / @apolloscastellan

reblog to support your writers!

#and that is tea #tashi duncan smut #tashi duncan x reader #tashi duncan #tashi donaldson #patrick x tashi #art x tashi #tashi x art x patrick #challengers 2024 #challengers smut #art challengers #challengers movie #patrick zweig #art donaldson #tashi’s hotel room

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pickingupmymercedes · 3 months

Text

He always rises - Lewis Hamilton

Happy Lewis for the win here.

request: " idk if you saw lewis laying down on the sofa in the post race press conference, but all i could think about is him knocking out immediately back at the hotel😂 With this prompt: “snuggle with me” - @goldenroutledge

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

wordcount: +1K

a/n: It was a blurb request from our 500 Celebration, but it ran from me. It's totally self-indulgent. If Lewis is happy we're happy, hope you like it ❤️

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

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The air crackled with a different kind of electricity this time around in the finishing stages of the Spanish Grand Prix. The dejection that had clung to Lewis like a second skin all season seemed to have evaporated, replaced by a genuine, unrestrained smile that stretched from ear to ear.

A podium finish, his first of the season, might not have been the win he was used to fighting for, but in the context of their current struggles, it felt like a monumental victory.

As Lewis climbed out of his car and removed his helmet, he heard the crowd erupting in cheers. He gave some of his team a brief celebratory hug before his eyes locked onto Y/N standing by corner of the gates of parc ferme.

He made his way over to her, a triumphant grin lighting up his face. “You were amazing out there!” Y/N beamed, her eyes sparkling with pride. Lewis leaned in and gave her a quick hug, savoring the sweetness of the moment.

He breezed through the post-race interviews; the guardedness of the recent races replaced by a playful banter with the reporters, jokes with Verstappen and Norris during the press conference, and selfies afterwards.

The celebratory mood followed him back to the garage. It was a welcome change from the frustration and disappointment that had plagued the first half of his final season with Mercedes. High fives were exchanged, engineers bouncing on the spot with unbridled joy. Relief washed over that whole side of the garage.

Y/n were by the hospitality area, her laughter mingling with the animated chatter of other Mercedes personnel. The sight of her, so carefree and happy amidst the team's, his team, was pure joy to him.

He excused himself from his press secretary for a few moments, his long strides eating up the distance between them in seconds, eager for a private moment amidst the chaos.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he said softly, pulling her into a secluded corner just as he kissed her deeply, pouring all the relief and joy he felt into that kiss. Y/N smiled against his lips, her arms wrapping around his neck.

He cupped her face in his hands, his smile mirroring the one that had been plastered across her face all afternoon. That kiss had been different. It wasn't just a celebratory peck; it was a culmination of all the stress, the frustration, the unwavering belief that had finally been validated. It spoke of a shared burden, a weight finally off their shoulders.

"You look radiant," he murmured against your lips, his voice husky with emotion.

"And you," she countered, tracing a finger down his cheek "look like a kid that has been given way too many sweets."

He chuckled, the sound light and carefree. "Maybe a little. I just feel… relieved."

"I know, babe. We all know." she squeezed his hand. " Now, go. They’re waiting for you. I’ll head back to the hotel and wait there."

He lingered for a moment longer, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. Finally, with a gentle squeeze of her hand, he pulled away. "Debrief. Then straight to the hotel. I’ll see you in a bit." Y/n nodded, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

When he finally made it back to the hotel, he was physically and mentally drained, and the room was a welcome refuge. the sight that greeted him made his heart swell. Y/N was curled up on the bed, wearing one of his oversized hoodies, looking cozy and content.

“Hey, you,” she greeted him with a warm smile. “You look exhausted. Come snuggle with me.”

Lewis didn’t need to be asked twice. He kicked off his shoes and collapsed onto her arms in the bed, resting his head on her chest, her fingers gently tracing patterns on his skin. "Looking mighty comfy in my clothes, there, love," he teased, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

"Just borrowing what's mine anyway" she retorted, a playful glint in her eyes. "Besides, it smells like you." Lewis couldn't help but chuckle.

"How are you feeling, really?" Y/n asked softly after a few moments of silence, her fingers gently stroking his hair.

Lewis sighed, closing his eyes as he savored the comfort of her presence. "Like the kind of relief I felt when you finally said yes to that twentieth date I asked you on."

Y/n swatted him playfully on the arm. "It was more like 10” laughing with him before continuing. “But seriously, Lewis."

He nuzzled closer, his voice dropping to a murmur. "Like I knew I'd given it my all, every lap, every strategy meeting. And finally, finally, it’s paying off. It feels… good. It feels so damn good."

She hummed in agreement, running her fingers through his hair in a comforting rhythm. She knew how much this podium meant to him; how hard he had worked for it. “I’m so proud of you” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his head.

They talked for a while, about anything and everything, the sound of her voice a soothing lullaby to his tired mind. His eyelids grew heavy, the weight of exhaustion finally catching up to him. Y/N continued to stroke his hair, her touch soothing and gentle. “Get some rest, love,” she murmured. “You’ve earned it.” Lewis nodded, his eyes fluttering shut.

The gentle rise and fall of Y/n’s chest a lullaby against his ear and he drifted off to sleep as she watched him sleep, committing every detail of his face to memory – the crinkle around his eyes when he smiled, the slight furrow in his brow that appeared when he was concentrating, the way his lips twitched even in sleep. He looked peaceful, content.

Such a contrast to the man who had carried the weight of the team's struggles on his shoulders for the past years.

The tranquility was shattered with a sharp trill of Lewis' phone. He stirred slightly, a low groan escaping his lips. Y/n reached over and silenced the call, earning a mumbled "thank you" from him before he tried to drift back to sleep. However, the respite was short-lived. The phone buzzed again, more insistently this time.

Seeing the name flashing on the screen again, Y/n gently nudged him awake, knowing how important his family was to him. "It's your dad”

He cracked open one eye, a playful glint returning. "Spoiling my nap, aren't you?"

She lightly ran her nails in his arms with a smile to really wake him up. "Just making sure you don't miss his call."

He chuckled; the exhaustion momentarily forgotten. "Alright, alright. Put it on speaker." You reached for the phone and hit accept, setting it on his abdomen

"Lewis?" Anthony's voice boomed through the speaker.

"Hey, dad" Lewis replied, his voice still laced with sleep but a genuine warmth evident.

"Saw the race! You looked brilliant, son. That podium finish, about time, eh?"

Lewis' smile widened. "Yeah, feels good, Dad. Finally."

On the other end of the line, Anthony chuckled. "Damn straight. You know, I always knew you'd turn it around, even when things were looking a bit rough. Never doubted you for a second."

Lewis could practically hear the pride in his father's voice. "Means a lot to hear that from you, dad."

Y/n continued massaging the root of his braids as he spoke, her fingers expertly navigating his skin. The rhythmic motion lulled him further, but he made sure to keep the conversation going. They talked about the race, the team's struggles, the upcoming schedule. All the while, she listened, a silent observer in their father-son bond

Finally, after a good ten minutes of conversation, Lewis ended the call. He turned to Y/n, a grateful smile on his face. "Thanks for making me take that."

"Yep" she replied, leaning in to kiss him softly. "He's happy, isn't he?"

"Yeah" Lewis confirmed, pulling her closer. "Proud as punch."

He closed his eyes, basking in the warmth of her touch and the afterglow of the conversation. After a few moments, Lewis spoke again, his voice a soft murmur. “Thank you for being here for me, Y/N. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Y/N smiled, her heart overflowing with love. “You don’t have to thank me, Lewis. I’m here for you, no matter what.”

Lewis closed his eyes, letting out a contented sigh. “I’m the luckiest man in the world,” he whispered. Y/N leaned down and kissed his forehead again. “And I’m the luckiest woman,” she replied softly. “Now, get some sleep. I’ll wake you later for some food, okay?!”

He hummed in agreement, a content sigh escaping his lips. Silence settled over the room again, a was a comfortable quiet, filled with a sense of peace as he drifted off to sleep once more, the gentle rise and fall of his chest a calming rhythm. Y/n continued massaging his braids, her fingers lingering on the intricate patterns.

As the last rays of sunlight streamed through the window, bathing the room in a soft golden glow, she kept on watching him sleep. A sense of immense pride welled up within her. She’d borne witness to the challenges this season had thrown at him. She'd seen him at his most frustrated, his most discouraged. Yet, he'd persevered, because that was him, that was the Lewis that had insisted on asking her out until she finally said yes, the Lewis she had fallen in love.

He always rises, no matter what.

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#f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 scenario #f1 x reader #lewis hamilton #lh #lh44 #lewis #lewis x reader #lewis imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton imagine #lh44 x reader #lh44 imagine #lewis hamilton x you

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russellsppttemplates · 6 months

Note

How about a girlfriend that does charity and she does it with the driver maybe Lando? when they’re home together (like idk buying and donating things for orphanage or women’s shelter) if you’re comfortable with he idea

"I don't mind auctioning my stuff away, but how about some of your things too?", Lando suggested as you sorted through his wardrobe and helmet and racesuits collections.

"I've been donating clothes that are still in good shape - your clothes have more value because they've been worn by you, so it brings in more money", you reasoned, "no one would buy anything from me", you shrugged your shoulders.

"We could try, though! Chat is always crazy about you and I think they would be down for that. Say this dress here - didn't you tell me that it pinched you and it hurt your boobs?", he pointed to a black dress you wore to a team Christmas dinner, "I certainly don't want you in pain and never hurting these", he cupped your boobs, smirking like a horny teenager, "so maybe it would be good to sell and then donate that money?", he suggested.

"I doubt anyone would pay good money for it, but sure, we can try! And we could throw this one in the mix too, and this shirt - if anyone's paying for anything it's because it's a good piece", you mumbled.

"Hi guys! Chat is all excited because you're here, see?", Lando kissed your temple and secured you on his lap, "today's stream is a little different, and you might have seen a little bit of it from the stories I put up earlier this week", Lando explained, "earlier this week Y/N and I made a big order of clothes and some furniture for an orphanage back home. They have an amazing program to ensure kids have a future in what they want to study or work in and we're also visiting them soon, and we thought you guys would want to help too if you wanted!", he smiled.

"This seems like we're decluttering the house - and in a way we are, to be honest, but there's this organisation here in Monaco that helps new parents in need - anything from diapers, formula, wipes, medications, clothes - and since we don't know much about that", you said as Lando chirped in, "not yet", smiling as he kissed your temple again, "since we don't know much about it, we were thinking of auctioning Lando's racesuits and a spare helmet, and all of the money would be going to that organisation", you explained, still blushing from his comment.

Lando put up the website where you had uploaded the photos and details, "someone says "there are some of Y/N's dresses here, are they for auction too?" - Yes, they are! This one wasn't so sure anyone would buy them so please buy them because a) it's for a good cause and b) I would get to tell her "I told you so" and get bragging rights for being right", he smiled smugly.

"Wow, you're really loving it", you spoke to the stream as the pieces or clothing were getting higher and higher bids, "guys, thank you so much! You have no idea how happy this makes me, us! We donate to this organisation every year and now we thought we could make a bigger contribution but never this big, thank you so much", you smiled, feeling a bit emotional and how caring and giving everyone was being, even people typing in the chat that they had made a direct money donation with the quantity they were able to give.

"What can I say? I'm always right", Lando charmed, praising himself as you cuddled closer to him, "you were", you whispered.

"Louder, baby, the chat can't hear you say I was right", he chuckled.

"Oh, the lady at the orphanage just sent us pictures of the kids doing their homework on the new desks!", you showed Lando the pictures you were sent, "I wish we could show you guys, but the little faces are showing", you said, pursing your lips and scrolling through until you found one of just the room, "this one doesn't! Look at how great their room looks now!", you gushed as you showed the camera.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

#lando norris blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb #f1 x reader

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monamourbladie · 1 year

Note

AHH OKAY SO.. this feels so weird typing out but IF YOU'RE COMFORTABLE CAN YOU WRITE LIKE PROTECTIVE/POSSESSIVE DAN HENG IL? idk how to describe it aaa like.. id imagine because he is a vidyadhara, they stay with their lovers for life, so he's be like very protective over his lover. maybe smut but its up to you!!!!!!!

Possessive Dan Heng/IL head canons

okay firstly i wanna say i was sitting on this ask for days bc i was trying to think of a possible plot but I couldn’t:( so i’m just gonna do some head cannons, i hope you don’t mind! I’ll be including some nsfw ones at the end too don’t worry :)) and thank u for being my first request on this blog hehe~

Dan Heng:

alright, so Dan is a very reserved and kept to himself kinda guy as we can see on the Express. he doesn’t show his emotions a lot and he’s kind of hard to read

you’re one of the few people that can read him like a book due to how close you guys are and how much he trusts you. like, even MARCH couldn’t get him to open up as much as he does with you

so when he’s upset, you just know. like it’s so obvious to you and you alone lol

so let’s say you’re out in Belobog and he’s speaking with March & Stelle when some guy comes up to you and starts chatting with you

initially he wouldn’t think much of it until he starts hearing laughter from you, and then all his attention is on you and him. like, why are you laughing at his jokes? what’s he even doing talking to you??

he’d just kind of keep his distance and just watch. nobody else really understands what he’s doing, but you can immediately recognize the coldness in his eyes as he’s glaring daggers at the man.

eventually he’d have enough when he notices him starting to touch your arm and he immediately walks over, keeping a calm & collected stature

“y/n! there you are, i was wondering where you ran off to.” he’s walk up behind you and wrap his arm around your waist, keeping you pressed close against him.

your cheeks would flush and you’d immediately lean into him, feeling better now that he’s here and can scare the guy off. “i was just waiting for our drinks.”

“and speaking with me. i was offering to give her a tour around Belobog, since she’s new,” the man said with a smile to her. dan’s grip would tighten around your waist and he’s grit his teeth.

your drink would be called and he’d move away for just a moment - (it helped that you were waiting by the counter, anyway) and grabbed your drinks for you, handing you one and kissing your forehead as he did so, “that’s sweet, but we already have a tour guide. let’s go.”

he’d grab your hand and fast walk you away, his heart almost aching from the exchange.

you always understood how sensitive he is about you dating him, since he’s been so heavily traumatized by his previous marriage in his past life. any scenario where you could leave him in any way terrifies him more than he wants to admit.

“was that supposed to be intimidating?” march would comment with a giggle as they walked over. dan simply sighed as he handed march her drink, “leave it, march.”

you’d look up at him with a soft smile and tilt his face to look down at you. you’d grin and kiss his lips longingly, “don’t worry, sweetheart. i was just being nice and keeping conversation.”

this eased his mind greatly - it’s not like he doesn’t trust you, he’s just extremely insecure and fearful about losing his loved ones, even to a random stranger in a planet they have no plans to stay on.

back at the hotel when you’re alone though? that’s another story. he doesn’t feel the need to keep his usual reserved facade up, and you know that.

the moment the door is shut, he’s immediately behind you, his arms trailing up yours as he peppers kisses up the back of your neck, “i hated seeing him speak with you, you know that?” he’d mutter against your skin.

you’d hum and close your eyes as you leaned into his touch, knowing this was going to be a pleasantly long night. “were you jealous, baby?” you’d playfully tease him.

he’d let out a low growl against your skin as his grip on you tightened, moving you in his arms so you’re pressing your chest against his own. he leaned down and started to kiss against your jawline up to your ear, “i don’t get jealous. i get protective.”

“you’re so jealous,” you’d giggle, moving your head so you could kiss his lips instead. he’d kiss you back harshly to immediately shut you up, beginning to walk the two of you slowly over to the bed as you’d kiss

he’d pin you down against the bed quickly, his kisses getting more feverish as his hands start exploring your body, “that’s enough out of you. you’re my girl.”

you’d squirm under his touch in enjoyment, cheeks flushing red from being called his girl. you loved when you got him to act all touchy, especially when he was riled up like this.

he would absolutely tease you all throughout the night just to get you so riled up that you’d just be panting and begging for him to finally let you have your release.

he’d click his tongue and lean in against your ear, his fingers teasing you unbearably slowly as you squirmed. he wouldn’t let you have your release until you cried out that you were his and only his, reaffirming him in the best way.

he’d lean down and kiss you heatedly as he pumped his fingers quickly to push you over the edge, “good girl, that’s right… you belong to me, no one else…”

youd cry out as he helped you through your high, “o-only yours, dan… f-fuck…”

there was literally nothing he adored more than seeing you a sobbing, moaning mess all because of him. part of you wondered if you should get him possessive more often if he would treat you so nicely afterwards…

Imbibitor Lunae:

if you thought dan heng was closed off and reserved, dan feng was another level. we all know everyone described him as cold and uncaring, but when it came to you? he was a total opposite and an absolute sweetheart.

he had his moments of being a typical brooding dragon, but the love he has for you is so immense that it outweighed every once of coldness in his heart and actions

it honestly surprised most of the quintet when he announced that you two started dating, because out of everyone they expected to actually get a girlfriend the high elder himself was last on the list — let alone a short life species such as yourself.

dan feng does not like showing any ounce of PDA in public by any means. in the public eye, he only would have his arm around you if you were walking around, or occasionally held your hand. he would never kiss you if he knew a lot of people would be seeing it

at least that’s how he acted early on in your relationship. this lead to most people thinking you were single, so it was not uncommon that you would have guys flirt with you right in front of him.

the first time dan feng noticed a drunk guy coming into you hardcore, it made his blood boil. unlike dan heng, dan feng was totally cool with showing off his angry side.

he immediately stormed right up and got between the two of you, resting his hand against your chest and glaring at the man, “i think it’s best if you leave.”

the man scoffed as he crossed his arms, “actually, it would be best if you left. i was having a great time with her.”

dan felt his blood boil and he glared at him, “that’s my fiancée, and i suggest you get away from her immediately.”

“or what?” the man spat back. “for being her fiancé, you certainly don’t act like one.” without thinking, dan shoved the man against the wall, his arm pressed firmly over his chest, “you have some nerve to speak to your High Elder in such a way. I told you — stay away from her. you should be thankful i’m not throwing you into the Shackling Prison for being an ass.”

the man’s eyes widened as he started sobering up enough to realize how badly he fucked up. he squeaked and nodded furiously, “i-i’m so sorry, your highness! it won’t happen again!”

he’d step back and let him run off quickly. turning back to you he saw your cheeks burning red with embarrassment, and his demeanor immediately changed back to stoic. he approached you and began to walk away with you, his hand wrapped around your waist, “i believe i owe you an apology. i didn’t realize i wasn’t acting as much of a fiancé as I thought i was.”

and ever since that day, he made sure he always had his arm around you in some way, and made it very, very clear that you were his fiancée.

he’d pretty much be the same as dan heng, except way more passionate and dominating about it. he’s not afraid to entirely let his guard down in private with you, especially about anything sexual, so absolutely be prepared for a long, pleasure filled night

he’d be very dominate but definitely a pleasure dom … most of the time lol, other times he’d just be absolutely rough with you if he was really, really feeling jealous or possessive

he would not be afraid to leave a lot of marks - it made him proud that others would absolutely know you’re taken just by one glance at your neck, and he wasn’t ashamed of it, either. he knew he fucked up early on, and he made sure to always make up for it, especially in bed

and yes — part of the reason why he’s so protective over you is because you are a short life species. it absolutely destroys him that while you will grow old and spend the rest of your life with him, he cannot share the same blessing with you, and he absolutely hates himself for it. it’s not fair.

that’s why any time anyone tried anything with you, he’d get so angry over it because how dare they flirt with his one and only?

he also gave 0 fucks that some vidyadharans did not approve of you, in fact he loves to flaunt it in their faces now and kiss you at public events when he hears people murmur about the high elder and his “short-life woman.”

moral of the story, don’t fuck with the high elder’s woman or you’re a dead man

i hope this is what u had in mind alenfhehddhhd thank you for the request 🫶🏻

#honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #masterlist #dan heng #dan feng #imbibitor lunae #dan heng x reader #dan feng x reader #imbibitor lunae x reader #dan heng il x reader

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shawtuzi · 1 year

Note

I need one with eren talking you through it, when its ROUGH (...and maybe a daddy kink)

ouuuu…..i like the way you think (i made this a plug!eren drabble bc i miss him)

cw include: black fem!reader, bratty reader like real bad, it’s a little angsty but y’all already know i cant resist a happy ending, levi makes the briefest appearance i don’t even mention his name lmao (he’s the supplier), eren is pretty rough, spanking, pain play??? idk man, unprotected sex, daddy kink, overstimulation, spitting, choking, lots of dirty talk, reader eventually passes out from the overstimulation but don’t worry there is aftercare///NOT PROOFREAD

“how much longer ren m’so bored,” you sighed leaning your head against the window. eren looked at the gps on his phone muttering out, “should be there in ten more minutes.” he made a mental note to drive a little more carefully so you wouldn’t bump your head against the window, afraid that would make you more crabby than you already were.

the two of you were on the way to his suppliers house and the long drive had you crawling out of your skin, you were so damn bored. he insisted you stay home knowing you hated long drives but you being you said otherwise and joined him anyways. “ten more minutes?! i feel like we’ve been driving for hoursss,” you puffed air through your cheeks and closed your eyes hoping the next time you opened them you’d be there.

after fifteen minutes you finally made it to your destination mumbling out a ‘fucking finally’ that didn’t go unnoticed by eren. “stay here i’ll be back in a few,” he spoke softly giving your forehead a kiss before making his way into the house. another ten minutes passed and eren still hadn’t come out making your mood even more sour. you nibbled on your lip contemplating if you should knock on the door— the angel on your shoulder was telling you to stay in the car and wait patiently, maybe even apologize for being so bratty. the devil on the other hand was telling you to storm in the house and tell eren to speed up the process.

before you even knew it you were getting out of the car and knocking on the door, your bracelets jangling on your wrist as you did so. “who the fuck is it?” someone yelled from behind the door making you jump. “uhm— i’m looking for my boyfriend…eren,” you said back, feeling your heart rate begin to speed up.

a few seconds later the door swung open and there eren was, a confused look on his face. “i thought i told you to wait in the car,” he sighed trying his absolute hardest to be patient with you. you put your hand on your hip, your brows furrowing “you were taking too long and i’m ready to go.” eren grabbed your arm and yanked you in the house before shutting the door, “look i’ll be done in a few just wait her—” you interrupted eren with a sharp ‘no i wanna go now!’

eren’s face turned stoic, showing no emotion as you threw your little temper tantrum. just as you finished your bratty rant a man a few inches taller than you came out of literally nowhere and handed eren a backpack, “sorry for the wait i’ll see you same time again next week.” eren nodded and dapped the man up before ushering you out of the door, not saying a word. he was absolutely fuming meanwhile you were as happy as could be because you were finally heading back home.

the drive back was eerily silent, not even the radio was on it was almost like eren wanted you to know he was irritated with you. finally he spoke up, “why did you act like that?” he asked not taking his eyes off the road. “like what?….” you mumbled knowing good and well what he was talking about. eren let out a long sigh, clenching his jaw tightly. “like a fucking brat,” he spat out now looking over at you. it was silent for a few moments only making him more upset, “answer me y/n,” he commanded making you shrink into your seat.

you didn’t even have it in you to give him a snarky remark. it was still radio silence and that’s what finally made eren pull over on the side of the road. eren grabbed a half smoked blunt from the ashtray sitting in the center console before sparking it, not even bothering to crack a window.

“that guy is like my fucking boss y/n you know this, and you also know he doesn’t tolerate any bullshit i’ve told you this countless times. you’re lucky he didn’t see you throwing your little temper tantrum,” eren didn’t raise his voice not once but you still felt like crying from embarrassment. “m’sorry ren i was just so bored—” eren cut you off quickly holding his hand up. “i told you you’d be better off staying at our place while i went didn’t i?” you didn’t say anything instead you just nodded your head. “you insisted on coming though and when i told you to behave yourself just a for little what did you do?” he asked cocking his eyebrow. you stared down at your lap, twirling the promise ring he’d recently bought for you around your finger. “i was acting out,” you mumbled feeling a stray tear begin to make its way down you cheek, eren was quick to wipe it away though.

eren took a long hit of the blunt before setting it aside, taking your hands in his much larger ones. “hey none of that crying shit now okay? i’m not mad at you,” he said in a much gentler tone. for the first time in what felt like ages you finally looked him in the eye. “promise you aren’t mad?” you sniffled, your eyes glassy with unshed tears. he hummed pressing a kiss to the promise ring, “i promise.” eren reached over and unbuckled your seatbelt, maneuvering you onto his lap. “could never be mad at you even if i should be,” he chuckled pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head. he leaned in closer till his lips were by your ear before whispering, “but that doesn’t mean you’re off the hook.”

the rest of the drive home your heart was practically pumping out of chest as you wondered what eren planned to do with you. sure he always threatened to bend you over his lap or use you to get himself off and leave you high and dry but he never actually acted upon it. “go inside and wait in the room for me i just gotta make a call real quick,” he pressed a kiss to your trembling hand before sending you on your way. you were petrified yet confusingly excited for eren had in store for you.

‘new level’ by a$ap ferg blasted throughout the cars speakers as eren smoked away the remainder of the blunt he had. he didn’t really have someone to call he just wanted a little time to plot, smoking always brought out the creative side in him. “what am i gonna do with her?” eren hummed, bringing the blunt to his lips.

while eren was still scheming in the car, you were sitting as still as a statue on your shared bed, hands folded in your lap. you were getting a little worried when ten minutes had passed and he still hadn’t come in, but you worries were washed away when you heard the door open. eren made a pit stop at the fridge and grabbed two water bottles before making his way to your room. he had ditched the hoodie he was wearing, leaving him in his tight long sleeve shirt and sweatpants.

he stared at you for a moment, his eyes red and glassy. “take your clothes off, no talking” was all he said and you made work to rid yourself of your crop top and mini skirt. goosebumps began to cover your skin, your nipples hardening from the cool air as well.

eren slowly walked over to the bed, admiring your beauty and obedience before gripping your jaw roughly. “you’re real spoiled y’know that?” his voice held no emotion as he continued to keep your jaw in his grip, squeezing ever so softly to make your lips pucker up. you attempted to apologize, keyword attempted, but it only made eren laugh. “nah i don’t think you’re really sorry, but you will be,” he took a seat next to you on the bed and pointed at his lap. you looked at him with wide eyes and it took everything in him to not crack on the spot.

you slowly but surely laid your body over his lap to which he responded with a low ‘that’s my pretty girl’. he ran his hands over your ass cheeks, feeling up the petal soft skin before giving your right cheek a quick slap. you squealed out his name but he only responded with another slap, this time a little tougher than the last. “shut your mouth before i shut it for you and trust me you don’t want me to do that,” he gave your left cheek three quick slaps, making your body jolt. you were in so much stinging pain you hadn’t even noticed your pussy was dripping wet, making a damp spot on eren’s sweats.

eren swiped two fingers through your sopping folds, a low groan rumbling in his chest at the feeling of your essence coating his digits. “looks like your enjoying this shit a little more than you should huh? so fuckin’ nasty,” he spanked your pussy and that’s when you finally let out a broken moan. eren licked his lips and did it again, and again, and again until your thighs clenched together, the damp spot on eren’s sweats growing by the second. eren threw his head back laughing like something genuinely funny had happened. he lowered his head, bringing his lips extremely close to your ear, “did you just cum from getting your slutty little pussy slapped? hm?”

you were too embarrassed to say anything and just nodded, but that wasn’t enough for eren. his fingers made their way back to your pussy, spreading open your lips before pressing down harshly on your clit. “if you want me to move my fingers i need to hear your voice loud and clear mama,” he pinched your clit harshly and you whined, gripping the soft material of his sweatpants between your trembling fingers. “yes…that’s what i came from,” you mumbled into his thigh, your ears burning from embarrassment. eren yanked your head up by you braids and pinched your clit once more, he wasn’t even close to satisfied with your answer.

“and what exactly did you cum from hm? say that shit or the only way you’ll be getting off tonight is by grinding on my shoes.” he didn’t mean it but from the look on your face you thought he was deadass. it was hilarious to him. “i—i came from you…” eren began to rub quick little circles on your poor clit. “came from what mama? go ‘head and say it.” tears were beginning to pool at your lash line—god this was so humiliating. “i came from you slapping my—hah! m-my pussy! i came from that and it was so—so good p-please do it again!” eren halted his movements, an evil grin making its way onto his lips.

with ease he had lifted you off his lap and had you flat on your back. “you should know better than to ask for shit during your punishment…but i guess all that pretty little head knows is how to spot expensive shit from a mile away and taking dick,” his words were harsh, sure, but that didn’t mean they didn’t have your pussy clenching around nothing. he’s never been this way with you and honestly it was a trip! maybe you’d have to start pissing him off more oft—

“hey? you listening to me?” eren snapped his fingers in front of your face, bringing you back to reality. “yes, yes m’sorry im listening,” eren hummed and gave your forehead a sweet kiss, mumbling something about how the safe-word was ‘red’. “you know i love you more than anything in this world right?” he spoke softly, pulling down his sweatpants and briefs. you looked him in his eyes, giving him a small smile “yes of course i know that ren.” eren swiped his dick between your soaked folds, making sure to bump at your clit with his tip. “good….because m’not gonna lie im about to fuck you like i don’t,” before you could even process his words he fully sheathed himself inside of you.

you tried to pull away but eren made quick work to push your knees to your shoulders, keeping you in the most intense mating press he’s ever had you in. he’d usually prep you a bunch but unfortunately for you that wasn’t happening tonight. “you good?” he spoke softly, tapping your cheek a few times. although the stinging stretch was a bother you had no intentions on stopping him, which is why you were quick to nod your head letting him know all was well.

eren took that as his sign to start giving you rough, deep strokes. “cant believe after all the times we’ve fucked you’re still so goddamn tight,” he growled, slapping your face. it caught you completely off guard by mannn did you fucking love it. “do t-that again—smack me,” eren breathlessly chuckled and happily smacked you once again, giving the stinging skin a wet kiss afterwards.

“f-fuck open your mouth,” you opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue with zero hesitation, moaning loudly when a glob of spit fell from eren’s lips and into your mouth. “what do you say?” eren picked up the pace of his thrusts, the harsh claps of his thighs against your reddening up his skin. “thank you—thank you daddy! s-shit m’gonna cum!” you squeezed around eren like a vice, nearly forcing him to halt his movements. “that was good,” he hummed, giving your sweaty forehead kiss.

“but we’re not done yet.”

45 minutes later…..

“oh my fuckin’ goodness,” you sobbed into the pillow eren had pushed your face into. six damn orgasms and he was still showing no signs of stopping. he really was fucking you like he hated your guts. “i know baby, i know. feels good yeah?” eren whispered in your ear, nibbling on the lobe. he had you in backshots previously, but after your sixth orgasm your body had collapsed onto the mattress. he wasn’t even thrown off, instead he just pressed his chest against your back and slowly rocked into you. the damp sheets were now grinding roughly onto your clit and it had you seeing stars.

eren had came three times, each time inside your pussy making an even bigger mess. if your mind wasn’t so fuzzy you would’ve gotten embarrassed from how loud the squelching sounds of your pussy were, but fortunately for you you could barely even remember your name let alone background noise. “that’s right baby just keep on takin’ it don’t run from it,” he moaned directly into your ear as he emptied his fourth load into your spent pussy. surely he was done now right??? wrong. so so wrong.

“eren—daddy i don’t think i can take no more,” you whimpered in defeat as he turned you on your back once more. eren settled on his knees, wrapping your legs around his waist. “you wanna use the safe word?” he queried, stuffing any cum that seeped out of your pussy back into you. when he was met with silence he smirked. “yeah that’s what a thought.”

he tapped his tip against your swollen clit before slipping back into your pussy, groaning at the warmth that enveloped him. “such a pretty lil thing i love you so so much. my sweet girl mmm you’re my sweet girl right? all mine?” he was now babbling nonsense just as much as you were. in the process of fucking you dumb he had also managed to fuck himself stupid. figures.

“o-oh! yes ren m’all y-yours!” you let out a pornographic moan and eren quickly silenced you by wrapping his hand around your throat. there was pressure but not enough to fully block your airway. eren used his free hand to rub sloppy circles on your clit with his thumb, making your body full tense up. ‘cumming…cumming’ was all you managed to get out before a stream of clear liquid hit eren’s pelvis and yet he still did not stop.

“yeah that’s right let it out baby c’mon gimme some more,” eren pulled out and began aggressively tapping his tip against your clit. your back arched off the bed as you squirted again and that’s when you blacked out. eren made quick work to lay down and pull your shaking body into his, mumbling out praises left and right. “c’mon baby come back to me…that’s it there you go, my sweet girl—my precious girl,” when your eyes cracked open you were met with eren’s angelic face smiling down at you. you sniffled, burying your face in his neck. “i’m sorry…sorry for acting out, won’t do it again i promise,” you mumbled giving his neck little kisses.

eren shook his head, that was the least of his concerns all he wanted to do in this moment was coddle you and love on you with everything he had. “don’t worry about that mama, you just worry about regulating your breathing yeah? take a few deep breathes with me,” that helped immensely and although you were ready to go tf to bed you still needed to be cleaned up… and so did eren….and so did the blankets and sheets. “don’t fall asleep on me just yet princess, m’gonna run you a bath okay?” he waited for you to nod in understanding before picking up your limp body and bringing you to the bathroom.

he filled the bath with hot water and your favorite scented bath salts before setting you in there (but not before testing the water to make sure it didn’t scald your skin ofc). while you relaxed your sore muscles in the bath eren changed the sheets, he couldn’t help but smirk at the huge wet spot along with multiple little damp spots on the material.

“how you feeling mama?” he asked as soon as he walked back into the bathroom. you hummed, looking up at him with nothing but pure love and adoration. “sore…and i still need to wrap my hair up…” you trailed off making eren chuckle. he leant down giving your lips one, two, three kisses the last one being longer than the others. “don’t worry about that i’ll take care of it when you get out,” you let out a sigh of relief and eren laughed once again.

man did this man fucking love you. that’s why he got your eyes tatted on his forearm the very next day heje

#i just fell to my knees #dear god bro #eren smut #eren yeager smut #eren jaeger smut #eren x black reader #eren x black fem!reader #eren yeager x black reader #eren jaeger x black reader #attack on titan smut #aot smut

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bueckersstrap · 1 month

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CASUAL / MY FAVOURITE BRA LIVES IN YOUR DRESSER / WE’RE NOT TOGETHER / YOU WONDER WHY I’M BITTER

c speaks ; this has been rotting in my drafts for so long omfg 😣 i needed to get something out so idk 🤷🏽‍♀️ also my writing makes me cringe so bad omfg i read this back in horror…… but whatevs 🙂‍↕️

wc ; 1.1k (short ik butttt)

warnings ; alludes to sexual content, almost smut, paige is an asshole, language

not spell checked n this is a draft so it’s not perfect yk ?? 😁

It was a saturday night – a long one at that. You were laid up with your girlfriend, no, casual hookup, Paige Bueckers. She called you up after their loss against Iowa state.

“Yo, Y/N,” “Hello?” Your voice rang muffled through the phone, it was around 2 when she called. “We lost. You in the city?” You deeply sighed, “Yeah, for the weekend.” You rubbed your forehead in exhaustion. Not necessarily because you were tired but because you were at your wits end with Paige’s late night calls, but you weren’t innocent either as you always picked up and complied.

But, how couldn’t you? She had you completely wrapped around her finger. She knew you too well and knew exactly what to say and what to do, you were utterly captivated by Paige and there was nothing you could do to resist it.

She airily chuckled, “So, you like, tryna come over?” “Yeah,” You replied with little to no hesitation, “I’ll be there in 20.” You hung up almost immediately after the words left your mouth, you didn’t know why you accepted the invitation with such open arms. All your friends called you a loser for constantly beckoning at Paige’s call. It slightly took you by surprise when her contact had illuminated your phone screen, she hadn’t called in a while and according to her finsta posts it clearly didn’t bother her as much as it did you.

You ruffled the clothes in your top drawer, trying to find the matching bra and panties that Paige liked. When you realized you were only looking for the set because she liked them it sent a wave of nausea in your stomach. You eventually gave up looking with a sigh because you couldn’t find it, you glanced at the time that read 2:15. You didn’t want to be late so you picked out another set and clothed yourself, spraying two extra sprays of your perfume and lotioning with the matching pair.

‘im omw’

‘k’

The dry response made your stomach churn. Maybe you read too much into things but, god, she really couldn’t have cared less about you. For a second, just a split second, you sat in your car, nearly sinking into the leather of your seats rethinking about even going. You knew if you didn’t she would most likely never call you up again and thinking about not feeling the soft pads of her fingertips against your face, your hips, your body, made your head whirl with emotion. So, instead of getting out of your car (which in retrospect probably would’ve been the right choice), you started it and started driving.

You paced in the elevator, biting at your lips and fixing your fresh makeup in the camera of your phone. You strolled down the hallway and knocked at her door and there she was in all her glory. Her hair was wavy from her signature braids and she was clad in black shorts and a white Nike sports bra. “Hey,” She breathed all while looking you up and down, you smiled back and caught yourself in a blush. She signalled for you to come in and so you did. You kicked off your air forces and she pulled you in by the waist – that touch that you constantly yearned for, the touch that you feared to never feel again. Your lips connected and the way she swiftly slipped her tongue in your mouth sent heat straight to your core. The kiss intensified and you were led into her bedroom being pushed down onto the bed.

She pushed her bare knee in between your legs, both spreading them open and applying pressure where you needed relief the most. “Fuck, Paige more,” You moaned out, breaking the kiss and tilting your head back which gave you a semi-clear view in your peripheral of Paige’s phone lighting up in intervals of seconds. You tried to focus back at Paige and the way she was sucking dark marks on your chest but it kept happening. She picked up on it when she asked, “What's wrong, mama?” you paused between asking her a question you probably didn’t want the answer to, or just leaving it. Unfortunately, you picked the first option. “Who’s blowing up your phone?” Your tone shot out a lot more acrid than you’d like. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” She harshly laughed, going to reach for her phone.

You propped yourself up on the white pillows behind you looking at Paige’s inquisitive face. “So? Who is it?” You asked with a tinge of frustration in your voice, and instead of her answering she just waved her hand at you in a ‘shoo’ motion. You took matters into your own hand and glanced over her phone, “Bro, what the fuck?” She quickly swiped her phone and stood up. You felt yourself choke up in your throat, you didn’t see much but from what you could see it was some initial you couldn’t make out and a bunch of unnecessary hearts beside it.

"Who is that, Paige?" you demanded, almost pleading for an answer. "We're not even together, so why does it matter so much? We agreed on no attachments." She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Casual?"

"Casual is wild work considering you treat me like I’m your girlfriend or something," You started pulling your shirt back up, suddenly feeling the rush of exposure like a million eyes clinging to the bare flesh of your chest.

She let out a laugh at your pointed statement, "I don’t know what dreamland you’re living in, but I treat you like normal,”

Your eyes widened as you pressed your hands against your forehead. “Normal? This,” you gestured between the two of you, “Is what you call ‘normal’? You’re fucking insane Paige.”

You were genuinely caught off guard and confused about where the lines had blurred between you and Paige’s casual hookup.

“It’s been working fine for a while, you just want to pick a fight for no good reason.” she accused casually. You struggled to meet her gaze, your eyes darting around the room until they landed on it– the bra to the matching set you had been looking for earlier. It dawned on you that your bra (and likely your panties) had been residing in Paige’s dresser for some time.

"Hello?" Paige waved her hand in front of your face, snapping you back to reality. "Is it so casual for you to keep my bra in your drawer? Is that casual enough for you?" You marched over and pulled it out of the slightly open drawer.

“I don’t understand why you’re so bitter about this. I called you to fuck, not console you about shit that doesn’t involve you. God, you’re just so difficult,” Paige followed you out of her bedroom as you walked out in front of her, pure disbelief took over your mind and body.

“Nice to know how much you care, Paige.” Grabbing your air forces, you lazily slipped them on and stuffed the bra into your pocket. You unlocked the door and bitterly walked out.

#bueckersstrap #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers smut #wlw #paige bueckers x fem reader #smut #writers on tumblr

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breadbrobin · 8 months

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Hi idk if you’re taking reqs but I’ve been reading your posts about Luke Castellan a lot and I think I’m getting obsessed- So could you make a fic/shot about a Luke Castellan x daughter of Apollo reader where they’ve known each other since childhood and they’re kind of like frenemies (friends and/or enemies) and one day he ends up getting badly injured after a quest so she has to take care of him in the infirmary for a week, but ever since that happened he’s been trying to get injured just to go and see reader at the infirmary again?

Sorry if that wasn’t clear, and this is kinda inspired from another fic you made about Luke and daughter of Apollo:)

But if you ever make something like this I would really appreciate it if you tagged me!

two hearts

luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians

[fem!daughter of apollo reader]

summary: (as above)

warnings: canon typical mentions of violence, kissing, flirting, a couple of swear words, blood, idiots to lovers a lil bit too (can you tell it’s my favourite thing)

word count: 3.5k

(hiiii hello hi!! sorry this took me so long to get out, but here it is!! thank you so much for the request i had a lot of fun with this one (3.5k words of fun apparently). hope you enjoy it!)

———————————————

if someone had told you luke castellan was going to be gone on a quest when you arrived at camp for the summer, you wouldn’t have spent the whole drive to camp preparing to deal with his annoying ass.

you hiked up half-blood hill and over the boundary, noticing the distinct tension in the atmosphere. something was off.

when luke hadn’t come to see you as you dropped your bags off in the apollo cabin, or when you stopped into the infirmary, or even when you walked past the hermes cabin, you were clued in that something was up.

“where’s luke?” you asked chiron curiously.

“he is on a quest, child. sent by his father,” he smiled down at you warmly. “do not worry about him.”

“i’m not worried,” you bit your lip. “just curious. that’s all.”

and that was that.

it was weirdly boring being at camp without luke’s constant snarky comments. ever since you’d both gotten to camp when you were younger, he’d been a persistent thorn in your side. maybe it was because you both were new around the same time, or because you didn’t like it when he hovered around the infirmary, poking his quick fingers into buckets of bandages and medications. whatever it was, he seemed to enjoy irritating you. and you apparently enjoyed it more than you thought.

monotonous days: breakfast, archery, infirmary, training, activities, dinner, bed.

sleepless nights: nightmares of quests and dragons and a bright white scar.

you sighed one night, waking up from yet another dream of flashes and brief images. your siblings were sleeping around you, a couple of them snoring, and you sat up.

the air on the porch was cooler that night, especially for summer time. you wrapped your sweatshirt a little tighter around yourself and leaned on the porch railing, peering out into the darkness. you just needed a minute, really. you sat down on a chair and relaxed.

you woke up abruptly.

at first, you were confused as to why.

then you saw the figure on the hill.

it was a camper. the hint of orange in the full-moon light told you that much. they were stumbling down—no, they were rolling now.

you stood up and dashed back into your cabin, grabbing your to-go first aid kit. you then turned and ran towards the obviously injured figure. there were only three people it could be. and where were the other two?

you reached them quickly, dropping to your knees beside them and rolling them over.

luke.

it was luke.

the air rushed from your lungs. he was here. he was back. he was alive. you’d never felt such an overwhelming emotion before. it drew slight stinging tears to your eyes.

his eyes were barely open but he gripped your arm with a strength you didn’t think his weak body could still possess. “y/n?”

“just hold on, luke,” you whispered. there were injuries all over his body. you hardly knew where to start. “just hold on.”

“they’re gone,” he said absently.

you looked at him, but didn’t stop trying to help. “who’s gone?”

“everyone,” he stared up at the moon.

you bit your cheek and looked over your shoulder. one of your brothers had gone on that quest with him. “wake up!” you shouted. “someone come help!” you turned back to luke. “okay, luke. you’re gonna be okay.”

his cheeks were hollow. it was then that you noticed the way his eye was swollen closed and a dark red angry cut traced its way down the side of his face. you gasped and turned his head gently to see it better.

“not looking good, huh?” he murmured bitterly. “guess i won’t be getting any modelling contracts soon.”

“we’ll see about that,” you muttered. “stay awake, yeah?”

“you’re not the boss of me,” he grumbled, but kept his eyes open as help finally arrived to get him to the infirmary.

he’d had more injuries than you’d originally thought. it was like he’d been attacked by half of the monsters in greek mythology, honestly, based on the peppered burn holes in his shirt, the cuts and scrapes on his arms and knees and the gashes littering his abdomen. oh, and not to mention the gaping spear wound in his right shoulder.

after working all night with some of your siblings and chiron in the infirmary, he was finally stable. finally, he’d be okay.

you volunteered to stay with him to keep an eye on him for the first few hours, though your eyelids were drooping with sleep.

you held his hand. it felt like the right thing to do.

he didn’t stir.

it was strange, being around him without him talking. since you were fourteen, he’d rarely managed to shut up around you. incessant talking and waving his hands around, explaining some new thing he learned in sword fighting or some joke one of his brothers made. it was both infuriating and entertaining. you loved and hated it, just like you loved and hated him.

sitting in silence with luke castellan felt like the world was turning on its head.

a couple of hours passed. you didn’t let go of his hand. not even as you slipped into a dream—a memory, really.

you were fifteen, and it was raining. it had only been a few months since you got to camp. things were still fresh and somewhat unknown. what you did know, though, was you could never get a moments peace anymore.

“y/n?”

you rolled your eyes. of course it was luke. “what?”

“where are you?”

you supposed you were hidden pretty well. sitting among the reeds at the bottom of the lake was one of your favourite places to be. it was cooler there, but even in winter it wasn’t cold. your feet could sit in the water if you wanted them to and the reeds blocked you from the wind and outside attention.

when you didn’t respond, you could hear him coming closer anyway.

“that’s fine, don’t tell me. i’ll find you anyway.”

and he did. he always did.

there was some theory about that, you realised as he sat beside you, the tiny space between the reeds barely big enough to hold both of you. some theory about a string of fate tying people together. some greek myth about people originally having four arms, four legs and two hearts, and when zeus split them down the middle, those people spent the rest of their lives searching for their other halves. drawn together by fate and reconnected always. you arm was pressed against his arm and your leg against his leg, and maybe it felt so right because you were cold and he was warm. not because of some silly soulmate theory that didn’t even make sense. because there was also the idea that maybe he’d put a tracker on you, but you had no idea where he would have gotten that. or maybe you were just bad at hiding.

“i’ve been looking for you,” he said.

you tilted your head in confusion. “what? why?”

“well,” were you mistaken, or were his cheeks kind of red? “i kinda hurt myself at training today. and the people in the infirmary told me to grow up and get over it. but honestly, it really hurts and i just wanted to know if you could heal it.”

you rolled your eyes. “always needing something, huh, castellan? is it so much to ask for you to just want to see me?” you hold your hand out and he extends his sword arm, revealing the cross-muscle cut on his forearm.

“i do want to see you,” he protested. “honestly. it’s not my fault that i’m also coincidentally injured whenever i want to see you.”

you couldn’t stay mad at that smile. “coincidentally, huh?” you handed him a small section of ambrosia from your pocket as your fingers ran over the cut, whispering a prayer to your father. you watched as the skin knit itself closed again, leaving not even a scar on his arm. you pulled back with a smile. “there. done. good as new.”

“thanks, doctor. don’t know what i’d do without you.”

“die a horrible death and be left permanently disfigured? to the point where we’d do a closed casket funeral just so we don’t have to look at your ugly face?” you tilted your head with a teasing smile.

he elbowed you. “shut up, loser. you know you love my face.”

and as you woke up, feeling his hand tighten around yours, you realised you kind of did. there was gauze over the cut on his eye and cheek, covering half of his face. and yet, he was still annoyingly beautiful.

“something on my face?” he mumbled as he saw looking, finally awake. “except for this thing, of course.” he gestured to the gauze.

you smiled wanly. “i’m glad you’re awake.”

“missed me?” he half-grinned.

you snort and drop his hand, patting the back of it and standing up to check his bandages. “you wish.”

he was silent as you checked his bandages and reapplied the few that were loosening. then, as you left to go and get the next person to keep an eye on him, he spoke up. “i missed you.”

you paused in the doorway, a small smile growing on your face. you looked back at him. his eyes were earnest and soft. he looked younger like this. “i’ll be back a few hours. we’ll have dinner together.”

you did have dinner together. in fact, you had almost every meal together for the first few days.

it was quiet, mostly. you didn’t ask him what happened and he didn’t tell you. you knew he’d already been interrogated by everyone else. he didn’t need that from you.

annabeth came and joined you a couple of times, chatting about some new architectural design she’d learned about or a new move she’d learned in training.

you realised how alike they were. family in every way that mattered, regardless of blood.

it didn’t take long for luke to start getting annoying again though.

once he’d been in the infirmary for four days, he regained most of his usual personality. and that meant bad jokes, incessant talking and poorly-timed, half-hearted flirting.

“the sun makes your eyes glow,” he said one day. he’d never had much of a filter, so it wasn’t too out of the blue, but it still caught you a little of guard.

you fumbled the supplies in your hand. “sorry, what?”

he was sitting up on his bed now. his wounds were almost healed. two more days and he’d be out of the infirmary. you didn’t know if you were one hundred per cent happy about that.

“your eyes. they glow in the sun.” he repeated.

you paused, glancing over at him. “thank you…?”

he nodded and leaned back, his eyes staying on you.

that was only the beginning.

within five hours he’d complimented your eyes, your skills, your smile and your kindness. multiple times. it got the point where the other two patients in the infirmary had stopped taking you seriously, just complimenting you instead. that’s where you drew the line.

“okay, luke, you need to stop. this is too much,” you said. you were checking his remaining wounds and nodding happily at them.

“what, am i flustering you? are you blushing?” he teased.

you were not blushing at all, you decided. whether it was strictly true or not was between your brain and your cheeks, not your honesty. “you’re annoying me,” you grumbled. “like, a lot.”

“you know you’ll miss me when i go back to my cabin,” he leaned back on his pillows, a smirk on his lips. it warped the scar on his cheek more than you expected, and it made your heart clench every time.

“if i miss you, you have permission to annoy me for the rest of my life,” you grumbled. you definitely wouldn’t miss this.

finally, he was out of the infirmary.

finally, you could work in peace.

finally, you could— oh, what the hell?

“good morning!” luke said as he waltzed into the infirmary. “i’ve injured myself.”

you looked him up and down as you walked closer. “you look fine to me. what did you do?”

“i fell of the rock climbing wall and hit my head.” he turned his head to show you the small trickle of blood above his ear.

you sighed and led him to a bed. you handed him ambrosia as you used a wet cloth to clean his head. “you were meant to take things easy for the first few days.”

“i did!” he protested. “i was only like, twelve feet up!”

you pursed your lips and shook your head. your hand was under his chin now, stopping him from turning his head to look at you. “taking it easy means no rock climbing at all, dumbass. you’ve been out of here for half a day and you’re already back!”

“maybe i like it in here.” he shrugged, pouting slightly, looking up at you.

“maybe i find you really annoying and ban you from coming in here,” you countered.

“you can’t do that,” he gasped.

“watch me, castellan.” you prodded his cheek mockingly. “don’t mess with me.”

his smile wasn’t exactly the response you were looking for, but you found that you didn’t mind it all too much.

luke came into the infirmary almost every two days for the next two weeks.

there was always some new injury that he couldn’t ignore, that he needed to have you heal. he only came in when you were there though, like he knew your schedule off by heart.

he probably did.

his sheepish smile was becoming a fixture of your days and you couldn’t help but smile a little brighter when you saw it. you couldn’t stop your heart from beating a little faster either, and it was annoying.

in the years that you’d been at camp, luke castellan had driven you up the wall. did you hate him? did you love him? how did you love him? how a friend loves a friend? how a doctor loves a patient? how a lover loves a lover? how did you hate him? why? why anything? why nothing? the questions only got worse.

“another minor injury?” you sighed, hearing his footsteps entering the infirmary. you didn’t know when you memorised the sound of his footsteps, or the rise and fall of his breathing while he slept, but you did.

“uh, not exactly…” the weakness in his voice made your stomach drop.

you turned around to see him clutching a bright red wound on his inner arm. he looked pale. that wasn’t a good sign. the blood was still seeping past his fingers. also not a good sign.

you gasped and pulled him to a bed immediately, pushing him to lie down and placing hard pressure on the wound. you could feel him reaching into your pocket and fishing around for ambrosia. once he found some, he ate it quickly and sighed in relief.

“what the hell happened?” you exclaimed.

he shrugged with one shoulder. “sword training.”

“were you training against the fucking terminator?” you took in the other minor cuts and bruises. your voice was unfairly shaky. you didn’t want to get close to losing him again. even just the thought made you feel sick.

his eyes were soft when they looked up at you. you almost dropped all of your anger right there. “i got sloppy,” he said nonchalantly. “i’ll be fine once i get back to normal.”

“this is an artery,” you said. “you could die.”

he didn’t look all that upset or shocked. “i won’t die, baby. i won’t.”

your stomach gave a pitiful lurch at the nickname. “save your energy.”

“is that your doctorly way of telling me to shut up?” he teased.

“yes, it is,” you nodded. “now, shut up while i help you.”

he looked at you like you were hanging the stars in the sky, not tending to him with hands red from his blood.

no one had stopped talking about luke since he got back. the first failed quest in years, with two of the three members dying and the third one permanently scarred by a dragon. not a good ratio.

you often saw luke sitting alone now, and when he was nowhere to be found, you knew where he was.

maybe there was something to the strings of fate theory, you thought as you found him and sat down beside him among the reeds. they were taller now and more dense, but the two of you had carved out a little spot for yourselves over time. your limbs were still pressed against each other though. that was one thing that would never change.

he was turning something over in his hands. a repetitive motion.

you tried to make sense of what it was, but couldn’t.

“it’s a dragon claw,” he spoke up. “the one that did this.” he pointed at the still-red scar on his face. that was why you couldn’t get rid of that one. magic scars never really went away.

you stayed quiet.

“peter distracted the dragon just in time for me to get my sword back. i got the cut, but when i turned back he was getting thrown against the mountainside.” he shook his head bitterly. “he didn’t stand a chance.”

you stared at a dragonfly on a reed in front of you. “knowing my brother, he just would have been happy to be there. and happy that you’re alive.”

he smiled, but it looked forced and bitter. “yeah. he spent the whole time talking about how lucky we were for this opportunity, and how he was so excited to explore beyond camp… and gianna was the same. they were just…” he was fiddling with his camp beads now.

you watched his movements slowly. it was like he’d never been gone, but also like everything had changed. there was a new tension in the air around him. you weren’t sure if it was you or him.

“don’t be resentful,” you said softly, breaking the silence.

“what?” his eyes turned to you. “what do you mean?”

“don’t resent yourself and the gods for this,” you said, leaning a little closer to him and looking away. the dragonfly hadn’t moved—like it was listening. watching. “peter and gianna made their choices. they’re in elysium now. that’s about as good as it gets.”

he pressed his lips together and nodded. “i know.”

maybe there was something to the two hearts theory too, because you could tell he didn’t. he didn’t agree. he didn’t want to. you slipped your hand into his. “you know i’m always here for you, right, luke? i mean, you annoy me—a lot—but you’re still, well, you. and you’re important to me. i’ll always be there for you. if you want to hold hate in your heart, then be my guest. i’ll just have to hold more love in mine to balance you out.”

he was watching your connected fingers as you spoke. his hands were calloused and hard, but yours were softer. less time spent training and more time spent healing. “love for who?”

you, you thought. you didn’t speak.

he turned to look at you. you were already looking at him. “love for me?”

you swallowed tightly. “luke…”

he leaned in closer, until his lips were moments away from touching yours. one wrong move and you’d touch. or was that the right move? was the wrong move pulling away? leaving him alone—again? that didn’t feel fair. but nor did your pounding heart and your flushing cheeks, and maybe you were blushing now, but that didn’t mean you had to like it.

then you gave in. that string that connected your souls was pulling you too tight. your lips brushed against his softly at first, and before you could think to move any further, his hand was gripping the back of your neck and pulling you closer, and his lips were pressing against yours with the passion of years of built up tension. you’d never hated him at all, you realised. you loved him the whole time. sure, he was irritating. he was chatty. he was pushy and annoying and never stopped bothering you. but you’d missed his bothering, and you’d missed his smile, and when he pulled away to take a breath, you missed his lips with a fiery need that bubbled up from deep down inside you.

“guess i’ll be annoying you for the rest of our lives then, huh?” he said softly, chest rising and falling against yours.

your eyes were still closed, reeling from the kiss. “wasn’t that a given anyway? i wouldn’t want it any other way, personally.”

when he kissed you again, you decided that the theory about two hearts was, in fact, correct. you met as two, seperate halves in a fucked up world that had you grow up far too fast. you grew as two, finding your places at camp, finding your people, but always finding each other first. you met now as one. four arms, four legs, two hearts, meeting in a tumultuous display of love and desire. and that’s how you wanted to stay. your limbs locked with his, your hearts pounding in sync, your every feeling, every emotion, every sensation making your very soul hum with joy. you’d found him, finally, after years of your hearts waiting for this moment. finally, your two hearts were one again.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjo x reader #luke castellan x you #charlie bushnell

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star-girl69 · 9 months

Text

Love Song

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader

—-

a/n: just needed to do some general hc’s to get all my thoughts in order i hope you all enjoy!!

Love song - Lana Del Rey

warnings: the formatting is weird idk why i can’t fix it but y’all will live, swearing, a little itty bitty bit of violence, every facet of clarisse finding its way here and i love them all, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

i’m sure we all agree on this

but clarisse is very protective of you

even if you’re a very capable fighter, even if you’re even better than her, clarisse is still so protective of you

i mentioned this in one of my fics (maybe so it goes…????) but like the reason behind this is the fact that clarisse is just SCARED

she is terrified of losing you bc you are the only one she feels like she can be herself with

like clarisse is insane!!!!! in a good way!!!!! but also she’s a 17 year old girl…. she wants TO BE LOVED

she tries to talk to you about how she feels about her dad and about everything else in her life, but even though she doesn’t want to be, she’s locked up like a vault

she knows her emotions are always super intense and she has big reactions

major anger issues but they’ve gotten better with age

the problem is she spent her entire life being told that she needed to calm down, that she couldn’t feel like that all the time, and she just tried to shut down

obviously that did not work

but it still makes it virtually impossible to talk about her feelings

when it comes to you tho she’s an open book

she’s a daughter of ares she’s headstrong she’s proud and her fatal flaw is PRIDE

i mentioned this before but she wants everyone to know that you’re hers and she’s yours

your relationship is partly very public

she’s not afraid to touch you or kiss you

she’s not afraid to show you off and (needs to) show everyone that yes your beautiful self belongs to HER

so naturally she gets very jealous

even when you’re like clarisse you are INSANE

there’s been a few times when you first started dating and you were still getting comfortable and weren’t that public yet so like someone would flirt with you

it went like this

boy: hey what’s up you’re kinda fine

y/n: oh! oh yeah no….. no…..

clarisse: WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY IM GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU—

then she started attacking him

lost dessert privileges for a month, she proudly declared that it was worth it (besides you would sneak her bites of yours like)

now that everyone knows you’re hers her jealousy is rooted a lot more in delusion and insecurity

you’ll be like in a group talking someone and she’ll pull you closer and be like “i think that guys staring at you a little too much.”

“clarisse no the fuck he’s not what”

b/c of the fact that she isn’t a son for her father she gets insanely jealous if specifically a MAN gets even an inch too close however innocently

she doesn’t want to think it but she thinks you’ll eventually realize her father is right and she’s not as useful or good bc she’s a girl

most of the time when she gets jealous bc of her insecurities she just becomes extra clingy

but also any emotion she feels she gets extra clingy to you so sometimes it’s hard to tell LMAO

she isn’t really a big hand holder but that’s only because she’s actually holding you CLOSER to her by your waist

also one more note about your relationship publically

everyone gets whiplash bc like she’s a BULLY fo everyone else and then you walk over and she’s all heart eyes

i hate everyone but you trope save me

save me i hate everyone but you trope

THIS HAPPENED IN IN A GOOD WAY

clarisse: pushes percy over

you: nuh uh clarissseeeeeeee

clarisse: omg hi beautiful gf

you: touches her shoulder, looks at her disapprovingly

clarisse: fine i’ll go, *scares percy*, bye bye beautiful ily

like she’s just being a bitch and then all of a sudden you come around and she’s like hiiiiiii babyyyyy how is my gorgeous gorgeous girl today??

so outwardly clarisse is just very proud and touchy

privately she lets herself be a little more chill

this is where she really touchy you thought before was worse nah

idk if y’all have noticed but in my fics clar’s always holding on y/n’s hips and that’s just me self projecting bc i have the most horrid hip dips but my point still stands

SHE LOVES YOUR HIPS

would totally call them “love handles” IM SORRYY

but she just likes having a place to hold where she can just like kinda actually physically grab you with her hands

like yeah she can wrap her arms around your waist but she likes to GRAB you

cuddling w her is fun bc like this girl cannot get ENOUGH of you there’s only like three ways you cuddle

you on top of her whether just like completely on top of her (one of her favs) or just with your head on her chest

this is what happens whenever you feel scared

like there was a monster attack just near the barrier and you’ve all been feeling uneasy all day

TRUST you are sleeping in her bed tonight

wraps her arms around you so tight it’s like she’s crushing you

also she’s running your back or caressing your head whichever you prefer

she keeps her spear right next to her bed and makes sure you can see it so you know however subconsciously NOTHING can hurt you bc she’s right there (nothings gonna hurt you baby vibes)

or she’s on top of you this one usually happens when she’s feeling a little extra insecure and jealous and it’s like no one can see you if she’s on top of her so then you’re hers

she isn’t the smartest one in the bunch but she has good intentions!!!!

also she lays on top of you if you get hurt

like after so it goes for example when y/n got that little cut on her hand

you’re like “clar pls you’re crushing me”

“um ok you scared the shit out of me today tho you need to LET ME do this fuck”

third option

you’re both laying on your side and facing each other legs tangled together and she’s probably whispering to you

she’s a big whisperer i feel it in my heart

like tracing her hands on your face and saying your so beautiful or telling you how you make her feel

oh lord take me now

also she loves you the way hozier loves

“someone asked me in the end i’d tell them ‘put me back in it’ // darlin’ i would do it again // if i could hold for a minute”

“when my time comes around lay me gently in the cold dark earth no grave could hold my body down i’d crawl back to her”

like she BREATHES for you

if she died and then you were like “i miss you” trust she would find a way to come back to life

totally daydreams about going on such a fantastical quest that the gods offer both of you immortality so you can be together forever and ever and ever and ever and ever

like if the world ends y’all would still be there having a little picnic date

devotion is the only word that comes close

anyways

ok nicknames she calls you:

baby, angel, gorgeous, pretty thing/girl, beautiful, lovely, dummy (lovingly)

(recently saw a few posts abt clarisse saying mama/mamas i may be swayed)

dates she takes you on:

forces you to train w her even if you don’t like it but she lets you win OBVIIIII, under the stars in the woods, take your dinners to go and sneak back to either hers or your cabin to eat together, secret makeout sessions in the bathroom her cabin your cabin anywhere she can get her hands on you

this is so random but i get horrible migraines and i am ADDICTED to these like headache relief frequency sounds on youtube i swear they work and i was like omg you can’t have electronics at chb I WOULD NOT SURVIVE

so if you are a real one like me and get horrible migraines but this goes for being sick in general she’s like a little puppy pretending to be a wolf barely holding it together

she’ll be like at the foot of your bed begging you not to go into the light while shouting at someone at the same time to refill your water

you like have a cold

she would rub your temples if you had a headache and she would literally be like a doll for you to move around like oh you wanna lay on her chest? by all means

you wanna lay upside down with your feet in her face? as long as you get better you can do whatever you want!

you don’t wanna touch her at all? that’s where she draws the line

you’ll be like “ugh i’m hot get away from me”

“okay ☹️☹️”

“why are you touching my feet with your feet”

she places you above everyone else

like yeah other people are ok…….

but you 😍😍😍😍😍😍

this is slightly cringe but she would fr burn the whole world down and not let a flame touch you

LIKE HAVE YALL SEEN THE ANONS IVE BEEN POSTING AND THE CAPTURE THE FLAG THINGS 😱😱😱😱 (y’all always check my blog im always posting the funniest shit bc i’m funny)

“you’re one opposite teams blah blah blah you get hurt clarisse drops EVERYTHING to help you even if just a paper cut” (i have no chill fic coming soon)

THEN THEN the other one that was like “ok but what if you ACTUALLY get hurt like broken leg”

clarisse just goes crazy when you’re hurt

in so it goes: “what if that cut gets infected?”

you’re her WORLD she literally can’t stand the thought or something happening to you or else she starts literally shaking in anger and sadness

but when clarisse gets hurt it’s a whole other story

LIKE FUCK YOU JUST WANNA CARE ABOUT HER AND SHES ALL LIKE “it’s chill.”

NO ITS NOT YOURE GONNA BLEED OUT 😭😭

clarisse never let’s anyone but you see her true emotions

like yeah when you’re in public and you’re being cutesy she starts smiling and everyone is SO confused

but still

she never lets anyone see her as WEAK

so she always downplays her injuries in terms of how much they hurt, but flaunts them off proudly at the same time?? yeah that makes sense

after a capture the flag game you march her to the bathroom with a first aid kit “ok baby take off your shirt”

she always makes some flirty comment like SHUSH NOT RN

then she has all these bruises and every once in a while a cut from someone’s sword

you’re like 😔😔💔

you’re the only one she will let clean her up

unless she like breaks a bone or needs stitches (which has never happened) no way in hell she’s going to the healers

if you’re a child of apollo or smth she’s like “i literally have my own person healer right here…..”

anyways i think that’s all but i will probably be updating this when i think of more stuff bc as we know i have no chill

thank you all sm for reading and reblogging and liking and commenting and sending all of your WONDERFUL asks they make me so happy i’m always giggling when i get one

anyways bye bye 😘

—

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@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

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