#not that anyone I need to see this will see it
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little-linda · 2 days ago
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Yes. It's a love language
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neo--queen--serenity · 3 days ago
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I need to stress how important it is that Jinx made that prosthetic arm for Sevika.
Jinx, for as long as the audience has known her, has only ever made inventions for her own personal use. She designs them in a way that is specific to her whims and interests, which gives the overall impression that no one should be using her creations without instructions. And they're made to suit her fighting style, which is why we don't see anyone close to her, like Silco, using them.
That prosthetic arm she designed for Sevika is quite possibly the first invention she's made that is purely and entirely for someone else to use. Jinx saw how Sevika mourned Silco, saw that her unrelenting loyalty for him still held layers of resentment and rage, but that she still grieved him anyway.
It's not coincidence that immediately after this encounter (during which she saw Sevika struggle to repair her old mechanical arm), Jinx creates this prosthetic for her, pouring all her creative innovation into it. She deliberately designs it as a gift in every sense of the word, wrapping it neatly into a bow like a present, for a woman who may or may not even be her ally anymore.
And the second Sevika puts it on, we see Jinx's trademark eccentricity, her wild colors, her manic machinations whirring to life. It's a sparkling, visual reminder of Jinx's affection on her body, a physical manifestation of her desire for Sevika to live and succeed. She gave the arm tricks, weapons, instruments of brutality--things we expect to see from her--but also music and fireworks, features that serve no purpose in combat other than making her smile.
We have never seen this from Jinx before, never seen her do something like this for someone else. When Sevika asks why Jinx made it for her, knowing the novelty for what it was, she'd simply responded with, "It was something I could fix."
It's no surprise that Sevika continues to protect Jinx aftewards. Whether Jinx was consciously aware of it or not, she had been openly declaring, "this is my ally; attack her and face my wrath."
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nezuscribe · 2 days ago
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life as a hit man was dirty but simple, and gojo preferred keeping it that way. he didn’t know his clients names, they didn’t know his. he’d send over proof of his work, they’d wire in the money. dirty, yet simple.
so when he gets a message to kill the daughter of some oil tycoon, he doesn’t think much about it. sure he thinks it’s cheap to go for the kid, but what does he know. this is the most he’s ever been offered for a one shot job, so he’s not an idiot to turn this offer down.
and unfortunately, that meant his next confirmed target was you.
he gets your information, where you go to school, what apartment building you live in, where you like to eat. usually he prefers a straight shot to the head, but sometimes sneaking in something to your food lets him off easier.
gojo gets to know your routine. what you do at what time. what shows you watch, what your favorite sweater is. he watches from the high rises that faces yours, crouching down so none of your bodyguards could see the reflection of the magnifier of his rifle.
and gojo is used to taking out a wide range of people. men, women, grandpas, aunts. it’s just business to him. but there’s something about you that makes him hesitate to pull the trigger.
maybe it’s the fact that the weeks he’s spent trailing after you he’s noticed you’re pretty much a loner. you keep to yourself, never bothering anyone. you don’t seem to have my friends in your classes, or even out of them. gojo never questions to morals of his clients or who they ask him to kill, but judging you so far you seem to have done…nothing wrong.
you treat the old lady who works in the convenience story with such kindness that gojo wonders if you were born into this level of wealth, because most people of your status treat those beneath them like ants. you always hold the door open for your body guards despite them insisting they do it for you. you always buy some food for the stray cats in the alley you pass, and you never yell when you’re on the phone with your dad, even though gojo tracks those calls and feels the need to yell for you.
it all comes to a moment when you’re at your favorite coffee shop (he knows this because you come here so often), and you’ve managed to weasel away from your bodyguards. he knows they must be freaking out by now, but you just want some alone time.
he’s right there, right behind you, the little pouch of his condition of drugs that instantly kill in his pocket ready, and you turn around with your coffee cup and bump into him.
your eyes seen, letting out a shocked gasp as the iced drink stains his shirt and pants, the cup not empty on the floor.
“oh my god, oh my god,” you stutter out, scrambling to find some napkins, “i’m so so sorry! i didn’t even see you there - gosh,” you shove some napkins into his hands, trying to dapple the coffee away but it does nothing to help, “i can’t believe…!” you trail off, the two of you moving out of line so you don’t hold the others up and your shaking your head in dismay, mad at your clumsiness.
“it’s alright,” he assures you, waving it off as his eyes take in your appearance. “don’t even worry about it, accidents happen.” it’s the first time he’s seen you this close, and he feels that pouch growing heavier in his pocket.
because you’re pretty. really pretty. and he likes the plush of your cheeks, the scrunch of your brows, the way you’re nearly gnawing your lip raw. you seem even prettier in person, and there’s a lump forming in his chest, something he’s never felt before.
“no, no,” you murmur, trying to find the tide pen in your bag, only to realize you left it at home, “and it’s stained too, fuck. i am so sorry about this, you probably have somewhere to be and…” your words trail off as you scramble for your wallet, pulling out some cash as you push it into his hands.
it’s more than he needs to replace the shirt and pants, probably enough to buy him a couple pairs from ralph lauren, but you still seem to think it’s not enough as you look for more.
“it’s no worries at all, i keep an extra of shirts in my car for emergencies like this,” gojo lies smoothly and you look up from your purse, eyes wide in shame. fuck he really likes your eyes too.
“no, please take it, it’ll be on my mind all day if you don’t,” you insist, but he’s shaking his head defiantly, a reassuring smile on his face as he hands the money back to you.
“and it’ll be on my conscience all day if i take it,” he promises you, and after you realize he’s not going to retract his hands you take the cash, shoving it back into your wallet as heat settles all over your body.
of course with your luck you spill coffee all over the most attractive man you’ve ever met.
you still look worried, finding another napkin as you take out a pen from your purse, messily writing something down.
“this is my contact information if you ever need me to replace your clothes,” you hand it over to the man with an apologetic smile, “please don’t hesitate to call me, i know stains and that’s gonna be really hard to get out,” you go to say something else but your eyes dart to the large windows behaubd him, catching sight of your body guards who seem to have seen you, and your face falls.
“i’m really sorry, again, but i have to go,” you mutter as you speed off, waving goodbyes to the stranger as you duck your head down and leave the coffee shop, not wanting to cause another scene as three buff men race in to find you.
gojo stands there almost in a haze, looking at his stained white shirt to the napkin with your number and name on it.
almost as if he didn’t already know it, almost as if you weren’t the girl he’s supposed to kill.
and in that moment he realizes how screwed he is, because he’d rather down that packet right there than shoot you down, and he’s never felt this dread before.
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pucksandpower · 2 days ago
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Rumour Has It
Franco Colapinto x Princess of Norway!Reader
Summary: you’ve never heard of Franco before and Franco has certainly never heard of you … but when gossip magazines decide to set you two up, Franco realizes that he wouldn’t mind making the rumors a reality
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“Have you seen this?” Noora says, bursting into your study with a tablet clutched to her chest, her eyes wide and frantic.
You look up, half-expecting the sky to have fallen or for Oslo to be under siege. “Seen what?”
Noora slams the tablet down on your desk, and your face is met with a tabloid headline in bold, obnoxious letters: Norway’s Princess Caught in Secret Romance with Argentinian Racing Prodigy Franco Colapinto!
You blink at the screen, then back at Noora, and then at the screen again, as if maybe the headline might rearrange itself into something more sensible. “Sorry, who?”
“Franco Colapinto!” She says, exasperated. “The Argentine driver — the rookie! In Formula 1!”
You tilt your head. “I don’t know who that is.”
Noora gives you a look that’s somewhere between sympathy and horror. “Okay, well, apparently you’re dating him. And half of Norway seems to think so too, thanks to this article.”
“Dating? Noora, I’ve never even heard of him, let alone met him! And this … this is nonsense!” You shove the tablet back at her, feeling your cheeks flush. “How did this even happen?”
Noora sighs, sliding the tablet away. “It’s the internet. They don’t need facts to build a story — they just need a blurry photo and a wild imagination.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose, exhaling sharply. “And why didn’t anyone tell me sooner? It’s not like we don’t have a whole team for this.”
“Well, to be fair, it only surfaced last night,” she says, crossing her arms. “But now it’s all over social media, and your name is attached to his. People are actually talking about you two as if you’re the new royal couple.”
Your stomach does an uncomfortable flip. You’ve spent years cultivating a careful, respectable image — a modern princess who’s still traditional enough to respect the expectations placed on her. And now, you’re supposedly dating a race car driver?
“What exactly are they saying?” You ask, your voice quieter, laced with dread.
Noora hesitates, but you give her a pointed look until she relents. “They’re saying you met him at some secret event in Monaco and that you’ve been hiding your relationship to avoid the media frenzy. Apparently, he’s been visiting Norway on his off-days just to see you.” She snorts. “It’s absurd, really. But people are eating it up.”
You stare at her, your pulse thrumming in your ears. “This cannot be happening.”
“Oh, but it is. And the comments …” She trails off, biting her lip.
“Out with it, Noora.”
She sighs. “Some are saying it’s refreshing that you’re dating someone so … I don’t know, normal. But others …” She winces. “Others think it’s irresponsible. That you’re … well, neglecting your duty for some glamorous fling.”
You take a shaky breath, willing yourself to stay calm. “Neglecting my duty,” you repeat, more to yourself than to her. “Because I’m apparently sneaking off with some Formula 1 driver I’ve never even met.”
“I know,” she says, reaching out and giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “But it’ll pass. A few days, maybe a week, and they’ll have moved on to the next scandal.”
You close your eyes for a moment, trying to imagine it blowing over. “And what if it doesn’t?”
“Then we get PR involved. Make a statement, deny everything.” She pauses, eyeing you with a wary smile. “Or, you know, we could just arrange a very public appearance with you and someone else. Nothing quashes rumors like a little royal romance with a suitable partner.”
Your eyes snap open. “Noora.”
She grins, unphased by your glare. “What? It’s an option.”
“I’m not going to parade around with someone just to make the tabloids happy,” you say, crossing your arms.
“Well, that leaves us with the boring option: addressing it head-on, squashing the rumor, and hoping it dies quickly.”
“That will just make it worse,” you sigh resignedly. “The press will think any denial means we have something to hide.”
Noora nods, still eyeing you cautiously. “You could always lean into it a little — make it sound mysterious.”
“Mysterious?” You echo. “No, Noora. I want it gone. I don’t even know this man!”
“All right, all right,” she concedes, hands raised in surrender. “But you know, you could at least look him up.”
You narrow your eyes. “Why would I do that?”
“Because people are going to be asking questions. You’re the Princess of Norway. If they think you’re dating him, it would help to know who he is.”
You open your mouth to argue, but she’s already pulling out her phone. “Just … humor me, okay? It’ll take two seconds.”
She taps her screen, and suddenly a series of photos pops up — images of a young man with dark hair and a serious expression, usually in some variation of a racing suit, often holding a helmet. He’s smiling in one photo, a faint smirk in another, but the confident gleam in his eyes is unmistakable.
“He’s twenty-one,” Noora says, scrolling through some text. “Started karting young, worked his way up. Got his big break with Formula 1 this year.”
You try not to look interested, but it’s hard to ignore the pictures flashing by. He has a kind of easy charisma, that much is obvious.
“And look,” she adds, holding up a picture of him on the track, eyes focused, mouth set in a determined line. “He’s pretty talented, apparently.”
You shake your head, forcing yourself to look away. “None of this matters. Because I don’t know him, and I’m certainly not dating him.”
Noora smirks. “Doesn’t matter. The media thinks you are, and as far as they’re concerned, that makes it practically true.”
You groan, sinking back in your chair. “So what do I do?”
“For now? Sit tight, let PR work their magic. But you might want to brush up on your Formula 1 knowledge, just in case anyone asks.” She grins, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “Wouldn’t want you to sound unprepared.”
You roll your eyes, reaching for the tablet and skimming the article’s ridiculous details. “He brought me roses on the first date?” You mutter, incredulous. “We had a secret dinner at a villa on the Côte d’Azur? Do they just make this up?”
“Pretty much. And it’s only going to get worse if people keep sharing it.”
You rub your temples, trying to banish the lingering image of Franco’s cocky smile from your mind. “Fantastic. Just what I needed — a fake romance with a twenty-one-year-old race car driver.”
Noora pats your shoulder sympathetically. “Could be worse.”
“How, exactly?”
“It could be real.”
***
Franco is hunched over his phone, scrolling mindlessly through his notifications as he waits for his PR briefing to start. The Williams headquarters is bustling this morning, and he barely notices when the door opens until Abbie, his PR officer, strides in, her expression uncharacteristically serious.
“Franco, we need to talk,” she says, folding her arms.
He glances up, one eyebrow raised. “Am I in trouble already? That’s got to be a record.”
Abbie sighs. “No, you’re not in trouble. But you’re in … let’s call it a situation.” She pulls up a chair across from him, lowering her voice as if sharing state secrets. “Have you seen the news?”
“Can’t say I have,” he replies, half-interested. “What, did Carlos suddenly decide to retire and I get to keep my seat for next season?”
Abbie doesn’t laugh, which is a bit worrying. Instead, she hands him her phone, showing a screen filled with a tabloid headline. Princess Y/N of Norway in Secret Romance with F1’s Newest Rising Star, Franco Colapinto!
His brows furrow as he reads, slowly, taking in the headline, the photos, the fabricated “romantic details.”
“Wait … I’m dating a princess?” He says, breaking into a grin. “And nobody thought to tell me?”
Abbie sighs. “Apparently. They’ve got edited photos, fake details — everything.”
He leans back, intrigued. “Princess Y/N,” he muses, tapping his chin with a thoughtful smirk. “Of Norway?”
“Yes, of Norway.” She leans in closer, her expression serious. “This has gone viral, Franco. Everyone’s talking about it.”
He can’t resist; he grabs his own phone and taps out “Princess Y/N of Norway.” The first few links are about her background, her position in the line of succession. “So, she’s next in line to be queen or something?”
“Second in line,” Abbie corrects. “After her father. She’s a pretty big deal over there.”
Franco’s eyes sparkle with interest. “Second in line. And she’s what … like, forty?”
“Not even close,” Abbie says, exasperated. “She’s around your age, I think. She’s twenty-something.”
Franco looks at her, skeptical. “Twenty-something? And a princess?” He scrolls through images of palaces, state functions, and some photos of you smiling politely at dignitaries. She’s dressed elegantly, impeccably, not a hair out of place.
Then, finally, he finds one candid shot, and he stops scrolling. You’re laughing in the photo, a little windswept, wearing jeans and a T-shirt, your smile bright and entirely un-royal. He smirks.
“All right, all right,” he mutters to himself, still looking at the photo. “She’s pretty cute.” He taps back to the headline with a glint of amusement in his eye. “But still not a MILF.”
Abbie groans. “You’re impossible.”
He shrugs, still looking delighted. “Come on. You know my type. I like them older. But …” He trails off, grinning wider. “I could certainly do worse.”
“You’re not actually considering this, are you?” Abbie says, horrified. “Franco, this is a fake rumor. You’re supposed to be distancing yourself from it.”
“Oh, I know. I know.” He holds up his hands in mock surrender. “But it’s kind of funny, isn’t it? Me, a royal boyfriend?” He leans back, arms crossed, still smirking. “I’m almost flattered.”
Abbie sighs and taps her own phone, clearly typing something in response to the rest of the Williams PR team. “Look, flattered or not, you need to be careful. She’s a public figure. If you say the wrong thing, it’ll just fuel the fire.”
“Oh, please,” he says, waving a hand. “What are they gonna do? Put me on trial?”
“Maybe not you,” Abbie replies, giving him a warning look, “but she has an image to protect. This isn’t just gossip for her — it’s her whole life.”
He lets out a low whistle, thinking. “Must be hard, huh? Everyone expecting you to act a certain way. Not much room for fun.”
Abbie eyes him, her expression softening a bit. “I’m sure it is. Which is why we need to treat this carefully.”
Franco glances back at the photos, his smile fading a bit as he considers. He may not know you, but he can picture the situation well enough: the relentless tabloids, the public judgment, all the expectations.
“All right, fine,” he says, finally. “What’s the plan?”
She breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank you. I’ll be working with her team to prepare a statement. The usual ‘there’s no truth to these rumors’ line. But until then, keep it low-key.”
He raises a brow. “Low-key? Since when have I ever been low-key?”
“Then try for once.” She gives him a pleading look. “It’ll help her out. Trust me.”
Franco nods, though there’s a spark of amusement still flickering in his eyes. He can’t help it — he’s never been one to turn down a little excitement, and this whole thing is exactly that. He glances at Abbie. “So … if someone were to ask about it …”
She narrows her eyes. “Franco. Don’t even think about it.”
He chuckles. “Relax. I’ll be good.”
But as he heads back to the simulator, he can’t resist a smirk.
***
The meeting room is far more understated than you would’ve expected for something of this scale, tucked away in a discreet corner of a private suite in a London hotel. But it’s neutral ground, and it’s quiet, and no one outside this room will ever have to know about this awkward collision of worlds.
You’re early, of course. You’ve been pacing for the last ten minutes, scrolling through every frantic email your team has sent since this ridiculous rumor broke, trying to make sense of the tabloids’ spiraling narrative.
Franco arrives with a small entourage, though it feels like the entire room shifts the moment he steps in. He looks relaxed, perfectly at ease — too at ease. He catches your eye almost immediately, smirking as if he’s been waiting his whole life for this absurd situation to unfold.
“Princess,” he says, as if the word is a private joke just for the two of you. He holds out his hand, that ever-present glint of mischief in his eyes.
You don’t take it, instead clearing your throat and nodding a polite, “Mr. Colapinto.”
He drops his hand, unfazed. “Mr. Colapinto? Ouch. I thought we were past formalities, what with the whole secret romance thing.”
You stare, unamused, but he only laughs, taking a seat at the conference table across from you. He leans back, stretching his arms over the back of his chair, entirely too comfortable.
Abbie enters behind him, followed by Noora and two more of your advisors, who exchange a brief look with you before giving Franco a wary glance. The room feels divided: your side tense, professional; his side relaxed, as if they’re here for afternoon tea.
Noora clears her throat. “Thank you all for coming. We’re here to discuss … the situation between Her Royal Highness and Mr. Colapinto.”
Franco raises his hand like a schoolboy. “Just Franco’s fine.”
You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “I think it’s important that we treat this with the gravity it deserves.”
“Right,” Franco says, his tone playful. “Like a royal summit.”
Ignoring him, you turn to Noora. “What’s our best option? A joint statement? Something definitive?”
Noora nods, producing a folder from her bag. “Yes, we think a mutual statement from both parties would be the most effective way to dispel the rumors. The tone should be clear, respectful, and leave no room for interpretation.”
Franco grins at you. “So, no room for romance?”
You bite back a sigh. “Exactly.”
He leans forward, resting his chin on his hand as if studying you. “Pity. I thought we made a pretty good pair.”
You shift in your seat, folding your hands tightly in front of you. “This isn’t a joke. It’s an issue of public perception, protocol-”
“Protocol,” he repeats, as if tasting the word. “Can’t say I’m big on protocol. Haven’t you heard? I’m dating a princess now. Practically makes me royalty, right? Protocol doesn’t apply to me.”
You shoot him a pointed look. “Protocol applies to everyone.”
“Boring people,” he counters, grinning wider. “Which, by the way, you are not. I don’t buy it.”
You feel your cheeks flush. “I don’t think you understand the stakes here.”
“Oh, I understand perfectly. But, come on …” He gestures to the small group of advisors around the table. “Look at this! Two teams acting like we’re two PR disasters waiting to happen … it’s ridiculous. You would think we were in the middle of an international scandal.”
“We are in the middle of an international scandal,” you say, exasperated. “People think we’re dating. It’s a breach of public trust for both of us-”
He snorts. “You’re talking like I’m some kind of international criminal. Come on, Princess. It’s just a rumor.”
“It’s more than that,” you insist, struggling to keep your voice steady. “This rumor reflects on me, on my family. On Norway.”
He watches you, head tilted, a glint of something unreadable in his eyes. “And do you care?”
You frown, feeling that flush creep back to your cheeks. “Of course I care.”
“No, I mean, do you care about it — us? I mean, the rumor?”
There’s something disarming in the way he says it, like he’s testing you. You can’t help but hesitate, your well-rehearsed words slipping just out of reach.
“It’s my duty,” you finally say, straightening your shoulders, “to uphold my family’s reputation.”
He doesn’t seem impressed. Instead, he shakes his head, a bemused smile on his lips. “You’re so serious. Makes me think I really did pick the right princess.”
Noora coughs, clearly eager to refocus the meeting. “Let’s discuss the actual statement, shall we?”
You nod, relieved to move on, but Franco holds up a hand, eyes still locked on yours. “I just want to say, for the record … I don’t think I’d mind the rumors, if they were true.”
There’s a moment of silence, thick and uncomfortable. You can feel the curious stares of your team, the surprise on Noora’s face, the quiet snickers from Franco’s side.
“Mr. Colapinto,” you say carefully, “this is neither the time nor place for that kind of … remark.”
He shrugs, unbothered. “Who decides that?”
Noora jumps in. “We do. And as such, we have a preliminary draft we’d like to review with both of you. It’s brief and to the point, which is important.”
Abbie leans in, already reading over the statement. “The recent reports of a romantic relationship between Princess Y/N and Franco Colapinto are entirely false and without merit. Both parties are focused on their respective roles and responsibilities and have not been involved in any way that would support these rumors.” She looks up, pleased with herself.
You give an approving nod, glancing at Franco. “Short and factual. Perfect.”
Franco frowns, leaning back in his chair with an exaggerated sigh. “It’s a little … cold, don’t you think?”
“That’s the point,” you say flatly. “We’re supposed to be shutting down the rumors, not fueling them.”
He lifts an eyebrow, eyes gleaming. “How about something more like … while I have great respect for Princess Y/N and have enjoyed our time together, I can confirm that we are, unfortunately, just friends?”
You look at him, horrified. “No. Absolutely not.”
“Oh, come on.” He gives you a devilish grin. “It’s all about the narrative, Princess. People want romance, intrigue. You’re literal royalty — give them a little fairytale.”
You feel your cheeks burn, and it takes everything you have not to snap back at him. “This isn’t some soap opera, Mr. Colapinto.”
“Franco,” he corrects, eyes still dancing with mischief.
Noora clears her throat again. “I think it’s best we stick with the original statement.”
He gives you a mockingly solemn nod. “As you wish, Your Highness.”
You give a small, exasperated sigh, looking back to Noora and Abbie. “If we’re all agreed, can we proceed?”
Abbie glances between you and Franco, as if gauging the tension in the air. “Yes. We’ll finalize the statement this evening and have it released tomorrow morning.”
Franco pushes back his chair, rising to his feet. “Well, I suppose that settles it, then.” He glances down at you, his gaze lingering a bit too long. “Shame, though. This could’ve been fun.”
You fold your arms, giving him a pointed look. “We have very different definitions of fun.”
“Clearly,” he says, his smirk deepening. “But tell me, don’t you ever get tired of all this?” He gestures around at the meeting room, the stacks of paperwork, the solemn faces of your advisors. “The rules, the protocol. Doesn’t it get … dull?”
You purse your lips, resisting the temptation to give him a real answer. “It’s my duty.”
He tilts his head, his expression softening just slightly. “I get duty. But where’s the fun?”
You open your mouth to respond, but the words don’t come. And for a second, just a second, you wonder if he has a point.
Franco’s gaze sharpens as he watches you struggle to respond. And then, to your utter shock, he steps closer, his hand reaching for yours. “Here,” he says, with that sly, teasing smile.
Before you can pull away, he lifts your hand, bringing it to his lips in a slow, deliberate gesture. His eyes hold yours as he brushes his mouth over your knuckles, lingering just long enough to make you feel the heat creeping up your face.
“I promise,” he murmurs, voice low and smooth, “the next time I kiss you, Princess, it’ll be somewhere much more pleasurable.”
You pull your hand back, heart pounding, but he only grins, unbothered, and gives you a playful wink.
“Until next time, Your Highness.”
***
The bar is dimly lit, tucked away on a quiet street where no one knows who you are and, more importantly, no one cares. It’s the perfect place to slip away from the weight of your title, from the headlines, from the rules and the statement that your team is probably drafting up at this very moment. For once, you just want to sit here, nursing a drink, and pretend you’re anyone else.
The whiskey burns as it goes down, but it’s a welcome distraction. You let out a breath, easing back against the bar, feeling some of the tension in your shoulders release. For the first time all day, no one is watching, no one is whispering. You’re just … here.
Until a voice slides into the quiet like a warm breeze. “Didn’t think I’d find royalty in a place like this.”
You don’t even need to look to know it’s him. You don’t turn, but your grip on the glass tightens as Franco slides onto the stool beside you, looking annoyingly pleased with himself.
“What are you doing here?” You ask, not bothering to mask the exasperation in your voice.
“Me?” He says, all innocence. “Just having a drink. Same as you.” He signals the bartender. “Tequila,” he says, then nods at your glass, smirking. “And whatever she’s having.”
You sigh. “Of all the bars in London, you had to pick this one?”
He grins, shameless. “Maybe I just have good taste.”
You roll your eyes. “Highly doubtful.”
He chuckles, unfazed. “Come on, Princess. I know you’re thrilled to see me.”
“Thrilled isn’t exactly the word I’d use.”
He leans in, his voice dropping low enough that it feels like a secret. “What would you use, then?”
You pause, taking a sip of your drink as you consider. “Mildly inconvenienced.”
He laughs at that, a warm, genuine sound that catches you off guard. You try to keep your face impassive, but there’s something disarming about his laughter, something that makes you wonder why it feels like he’s always able to unravel you with so little effort.
“Fine,” he says, leaning his elbow on the bar, mirroring your posture. “Then I’ll just sit here, mildly inconveniencing you until you admit you’re enjoying yourself.”
You scoff. “That’s not going to happen.”
His whiskey arrives, and he raises his glass, clinking it lightly against yours. “Care to bet on that?”
You raise an eyebrow. “Do you always think everything’s a game?”
“Only when it’s fun,” he says, his gaze dropping to your lips. There’s something undeniably bold about the way he watches you, something that sends a little thrill down your spine despite yourself.
You hold his gaze, refusing to back down. “What exactly do you think you’re doing here?”
“I thought that was obvious,” he says, his voice turning softer, more intimate. “I’m trying to get to know you.”
You snort. “Get to know me? I’m pretty sure you just want to use this as an excuse to fuel the rumors.”
“Maybe the rumors are more interesting than you think,” he counters smoothly, sipping his drink. “Or maybe I’m just curious.”
“Curious?” You echo, lifting an eyebrow. “About what?”
“About what a princess does when no one’s watching.” His eyes flash with that familiar glint, and he gives you a lazy, unapologetic smile. “And so far, you don’t disappoint.”
You laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “If you’re trying to charm me, it’s not working.”
“Oh, I don’t need to try,” he says, his voice soft but self-assured. “I just do.”
You shake your head, determined not to let him win this little game. “I don’t think you’re as irresistible as you think you are.”
“Maybe.” He tilts his head, studying you with an infuriating level of focus. “But you’re still here, aren’t you?”
Your retort dies on your lips as his hand moves closer, resting just on the edge of the bar, fingers inching toward yours. It’s subtle, but it sends a pulse of awareness up your arm, and you’re suddenly very aware of how close he is, the warmth radiating from him, the intensity of his gaze as it lingers on you.
You straighten, clearing your throat. “So what’s your endgame here, Franco?”
“No endgame,” he says easily, but there’s a promise in his tone, a flicker in his eyes that makes it hard to believe. “Just wanted a drink with a pretty princess.”
You almost laugh. Almost. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”
“Is that why you’re smiling?” He asks, leaning closer.
You hadn’t realized you were. You quickly straighten your face, but he’s already noticed, that knowing smirk widening as he takes another sip of his drink.
“Relax, Princess. You’re allowed to have fun, too.”
“Define fun,” you say, though you’re painfully aware that you’re actually enjoying this little back-and-forth. It’s dangerous, exhilarating — two things you never let yourself indulge in.
“Fun?” He tilts his head, eyes sparkling. “Fun is you, sitting here, pretending you don’t like me, while secretly hoping I’ll keep talking.”
You roll your eyes. “Delusional.”
“Maybe,” he says, and his hand moves again — this time, resting casually on your thigh under the bar. The touch is light, but it’s enough to make your breath hitch, enough to make you momentarily forget the carefully constructed boundaries you’ve set.
“Franco,” you warn, though your voice is less steady than you’d like.
He raises an eyebrow, his fingers tracing a slow, almost absentminded circle against your leg. “Problem?”
You don’t answer, but he takes your silence as permission, his fingers edging just a little higher, teasingly close, as if he’s daring you to stop him. And you should. You know you should. But for some reason, you don’t.
He leans in, his breath warm against your ear. “Tell me to stop, Princess. And I will.”
Your mind races, every sensible thought colliding with the thrill that’s building inside you. You swallow, feeling the weight of his gaze, the heat of his touch.
“Why would I tell you to stop,” you say quietly, your voice barely more than a whisper, “if I don’t want you to?”
He grins, satisfied. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”
Before you can respond, he’s closing the distance, his hand slipping higher under your dress, his thumb brushing slow circles that make your heart race. It’s reckless and wild and nothing you’d ever thought you’d do — but in this moment, it feels impossible to resist.
The next few minutes are a blur of whispered words and stolen glances, your resolve slipping with every soft touch, every cocky grin he throws your way. You barely register the decision to leave the bar until you’re outside, standing on the quiet street, the night air cool against your flushed skin.
“Your place or mine?” He asks, his voice a playful drawl.
You hesitate, a thousand reasons to walk away tumbling through your mind. But when you look at him — at that unrelenting confidence, the challenge in his eyes — you feel your control waver. Just this once, you tell yourself. Just this once, you’ll let yourself break the rules.
“Yours,” you say, surprised at the steadiness of your voice.
He doesn’t waste a second, taking your hand and leading you down the street, his grip warm and solid, grounding you even as your heart races. You follow him, pulse pounding with each step, until you’re standing outside his hotel room door, the reality of what you’re doing hitting you in a rush.
But then he’s looking at you again, that mischievous smile softening into something more intimate, and your doubts fade. He opens the door, and you step inside, feeling as though you’re crossing some invisible line.
The room is dim, the city lights casting a faint glow through the windows. He steps closer, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle, almost reverent, and for a moment, you see a different side of him — something softer, deeper.
“Last chance to change your mind,” he murmurs, his voice low.
You meet his gaze, feeling the weight of his words. But instead of answering, you lean up, closing the distance between you, your lips brushing against his in a kiss that’s tentative at first, then deepening as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close.
And for the first time in as long as you can remember, you don’t think about duty, or protocol, or anything else. In this moment, there’s only you and him and the quiet thrill of finally letting go.
***
francolapinto
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Liked by f1wagupdates, royalwatchers, and 714,925 others
francolapinto all the rumours are true
View all 3,816 comments
pintobean everyone called me crazy for believing the articles but look who’s laughing now!
coca-colapinto because as much as i love franco, there’s no way i was about to believe he could’ve pulled a whole ass princess
pintobean this is a lesson not to underestimate his rizz
coca-colapinto please never say that unironically again
f1wagupdates pray for their PR teams, whatever they’re earning is not nearly enough 🙏
gridgossip franco had exactly nine races to turn the paddock upside down and boy did he not disappoint
f1wagupdates who needs an f1 seat in 2025 when you can have a throne?
***
The morning arrives far too soon, sunlight streaming through the hotel curtains and casting a warm glow over the rumpled sheets. You barely have time to blink yourself awake when a loud, frantic banging rattles the door, shaking you out of the haze of last night.
Franco groans beside you, his arm lazily draped over your waist. “You expecting someone?”
You’re too comfortable, too wrapped up in the warmth of his skin and the lingering bliss to even think straight. “Not … exactly.”
The pounding persists, and then voices — urgent, unmistakable voices — filter through the door. “Franco! Y/N! Are you in there? It’s urgent!”
Your eyes widen, a flash of panic cutting through the sleepiness. Franco doesn’t seem fazed. He barely lifts his head off the pillow, his hand lazily running down your spine as he mutters, “They’ll go away.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” You push yourself up slightly, glancing over the bed, finding discarded clothes and a vague sense of regret somewhere on the floor. The pounding grows louder, and finally, Franco sits up, rubbing his eyes, his hair adorably disheveled.
He stretches, glancing at you with a lazy grin. “What do you think? Just a few more minutes or …”
“Open the door!” Comes a familiar, exasperated voice from the hallway. You recognize it immediately — Noora.
Franco’s eyes meet yours, amusement glinting there. “Looks like we don’t have a choice.”
Reluctantly, he pulls himself out of bed, grabbing a pair of pants from the floor and slipping them on with a casual ease that only makes your heartbeat quicken. He tosses you a smirk over his shoulder before heading to the door.
As he opens it, a whirlwind of people floods into the room — Noora, Abbie, and a few more members of both your PR teams, all of them looking like they’re seconds away from losing their minds.
“Oh my god,” Noora gasps, her gaze darting between you and Franco, her face turning several shades of pink. “This … this is-”
“Completely reckless!” Abbie finishes, giving you a look that’s half shock, half scandalized admiration. “What were you two thinking?”
Franco crosses his arms, unfazed. “Good morning to you too.”
One of Williams’ other PR officers steps forward, looking ready to faint. “Franco, do you have any idea what you’ve done? Those photos … your Instagram …”
Franco grins, leaning casually against the doorframe. “What, people are talking?”
“Talking?” Noora squeaks, her voice an octave higher than usual. She glares at you, her eyes wide, almost pleading. “This is a disaster! Do you understand what you’ve done to our schedule, our statement plan? And the … the-” Her gaze flickers to the faint marks on your neck, and her knees buckle. Abbie reaches out quickly, guiding her to a chair.
“Maybe we overreacted,” Abbie mutters, though she doesn’t take her eyes off you. “Or maybe we didn’t react enough.”
You feel a rush of heat flood your face as everyone’s gaze lands on you. Franco catches it and gives you a cheeky wink, clearly enjoying the chaos he’s created.
“Look,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, “maybe we got a little carried away, but it’s … it’s not like we did anything wrong.”
“Nothing wrong?” Noora says, her voice faint as she studies the marks on your neck again. “You … you have no idea how this looks, do you?”
Franco, completely unfazed, strolls over to the mirror above the dresser. He takes a long look at his own reflection, tilting his head to admire the scratches and darkening bruises scattered across his skin. “Looks like a good night to me.”
Your PR teams collectively groan, and you have to bite your lip to keep from laughing. Franco catches your eye in the mirror, and the mischievous spark there makes it impossible not to crack a smile.
“Franco, this isn’t a joke!” One of his managers snaps, practically pulling at his hair. “Do you know how many calls we’ve received since you posted those photos?”
Franco shrugs, giving them a lazy grin. “Then turn off your phone. Worked for me.”
Another round of exasperated sighs fills the room, and you can’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for your PR team. Not enough, though, to actually feel bad.
Noora steps forward, hands on her hips, looking at you with an expression that’s somehow both sympathetic and stern. “Your Highness, this is … unprecedented. We need to issue a statement immediately, clarify this situation-”
“Or not,” Franco interrupts, his tone far too nonchalant. He turns away from the mirror, crossing his arms. “Honestly, I think the people like a little mystery, don’t you?”
Noora gives him a look that could wilt flowers. “This isn’t about what the people like, Mr. Colapinto. It’s about protecting reputations.”
“Oh, so we’re doing that now?” Franco glances at you, his smile playful. “Funny, last night I didn’t get the sense that the two of us in this room were all that worried about reputations.”
Your face flushes, and you shoot him a look that’s half reprimand, half reluctant amusement. “You’re not helping.”
He shrugs, unbothered. “Who said I was trying to help?”
Abbie lets out a long sigh, rubbing her temples. “Can we at least agree that this … whatever this is, stays here? Quietly?”
Franco raises an eyebrow, looking at you with a smirk. “You hear that, Princess? Quietly. Doesn’t sound like much fun to me.”
You swallow, trying to ignore the way his gaze makes your stomach flip. “Maybe some things should be quiet,” you say, though your voice sounds unconvincing even to you.
Noora, still looking a bit wobbly, clears her throat. “Please, can we just … make a plan?”
Franco sighs, feigning disappointment. “Fine. Make your plan. But don’t expect me to follow it.”
Before anyone can respond, he gives you one last smirk and strides over to the door, pulling it open. “In fact, I think it’s about time we had the room to ourselves, don’t you think?”
The PR teams exchange panicked glances, but they don’t have much choice as Franco gives them a not-so-subtle wave toward the exit. Noora opens her mouth to protest, but Abbie gently ushers her toward the door, casting one last look at you that’s a mix of concern and reluctant approval.
“We’ll be in touch,” Abbie says, but there’s a hint of resignation in her tone, as if she knows that whatever control they thought they had is slipping fast.
Once the last of them has been herded out, Franco shuts the door with a decisive click. He turns back to you, a wicked gleam in his eyes, and before you can process it, he’s crossing the room, closing the distance between you in seconds.
“You know,” he says, his voice low and teasing, “I think we gave them quite a show.”
You roll your eyes, but you can’t stop the smile that tugs at your lips. “We? That was mostly you.”
He laughs softly, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. “You didn’t exactly object.”
You’re about to respond, but he doesn’t give you the chance. His hands find your waist, and suddenly you’re being guided backward, the mattress hitting the back of your legs as he eases you down. His gaze is intense, his smirk fading into something more serious, more intent.
“Franco,” you murmur, but the way he’s looking at you steals the rest of your words.
He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then to the corner of your mouth. His voice is barely more than a whisper as he murmurs, “We’re not done yet, Princess.”
Your heart races as he shifts, his hands warm against your skin, his weight pressing you back into the bed. And as he leans down, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s somehow both playful and possessive, you realize that whatever the consequences, whatever scandal might follow … right now, none of it matters.
Right now, there’s only him, the quiet thrill of his touch, and the feeling of finally — finally — giving in.
***
The night sky over Las Vegas glitters with a million lights, bright enough to drown out the stars, as the drivers’ parade winds down the track. The grandstands are packed, the excitement in the air palpable even before the race has started.
Franco is perched atop the back of a bus, arms folded, his easy smirk in place as he surveys the flashing cameras and cheering fans. Beside him stands Lewis Hamilton, calm and collected as always, with that practiced smile of someone who’s done this a thousand times.
Franco nudges Lewis with his elbow, grinning. “So, you know we’re both basically royalty now, right?”
Lewis chuckles, giving him a sideways look. “Oh, yeah? What makes you think that?”
Franco shrugs, looking as if he’s contemplating something serious for a split second, then tilts his head. “Well, you’ve got the knighthood, Sir Hamilton,” he says, drawing out the words with an exaggerated British accent. “And I’ve got, well …” He grins, his eyebrows waggling suggestively. “The princess.”
Lewis laughs, a rich, full sound. “Ah, I see. So you’re actually out here trying to one-up my knighthood?”
Franco clutches his chest dramatically. “Exactly. I mean, not to make it a competition, but I’m basically a prince now. Which, if we’re being technical, puts me a bit above you in rank.”
Lewis lets out a snort, rolling his eyes. “Shut up, man. I’m a knight, not a court jester.”
Franco raises his hands in mock surrender, his grin widening. “Hey, I’m just stating the facts. I’m sure knighthood’s very nice, but I think there’s something to be said for having a princess.”
Lewis shakes his head, trying not to laugh. “So it’s true, then?”
For the first time, Franco’s smirk softens into something else, something quieter. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, glancing at the screen with an expression that’s unmistakably fond. He’s not looking at Lewis now, or at the cheering fans, or even the flashing cameras around them. His gaze is locked on his phone, where an image fills the screen.
It’s you, cozy on the couch with your Cavalier King Charles Spaniel in your lap, a warm blanket wrapped around you, hair falling casually over your shoulder. You’re looking straight into the camera, a relaxed smile on your face, and there’s an almost surprising intimacy in the photo — the kind that doesn’t come from a staged royal portrait but from a simple, real moment. It’s the type of photo someone only sends to someone they care about.
Franco doesn’t say anything right away. He just stares at the image, his thumb tracing lightly over the screen, as if he’s savoring the private moment before he has to lock his phone away for the race.
He nods, almost to himself. “Yeah. It’s true.”
Lewis studies him slowly, an almost invisible smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Didn’t think I’d see the day,” he murmurs, a touch of amusement there. “Guess you’re growing up, huh?”
Franco finally looks up, chuckling. “Speak for yourself, man. I’m still a kid at heart.”
Lewis raises an eyebrow. “A kid at heart who’s dating a princess? That’s a combination I didn’t see coming.”
“Neither did I, to be honest.” Franco leans back, stretching his arms out along the edge of the bus, still clutching his phone in one hand. “One minute, I’m just minding my business, and the next … boom.” He snaps his fingers. “The entire world decides we’re dating. Didn’t even know her name before then.”
Lewis chuckles. “And now you’re on your phone looking at pictures she sent you. You’ve come a long way.”
Franco glances down at the picture again, a private smile playing on his lips. “Guess I have.”
The parade continues, the roar of the crowd swelling around them as they pass another section of the grandstand, but it all feels distant. The conversation falls into a comfortable silence, and Franco finds himself thinking back over the past few weeks, the whirlwind of rumors and statements, and then … the quiet moments that somehow followed.
Lewis studies him, eyes narrowing in that perceptive way he has. “So … you and her. Is it, like, official?”
Franco lets out a short laugh. “Are you kidding? This is Her Royal Highness we’re talking about. There’s no ‘official’ until we’ve been courting for at least a year. There’s procedure and … what’s the word she loves to use? Protocol.”
“Protocol.” Lewis grins. “That sounds … exactly like what you hate.”
“Oh, believe me.” Franco laughs, shaking his head. “She’s been trying to teach me, but I don’t think I’ve followed protocol a single time. I mean, she actually tried to tell me what utensils I should use at dinner. Like, why does it matter?”
“Didn’t go well, huh?”
“Let’s just say I’ve decided that those tiny forks are optional.” Franco sighs, pocketing his phone. “But that’s her. She takes it all so seriously. Makes me want to take it seriously too, in some strange way.”
Lewis tilts his head, watching him. “I get that. That’s what happens when someone really means something to you.” He pauses, as if weighing his words. “So, she’s watching tonight?”
Franco nods, a flash of pride evident in his smile. “She sent me this right before we went out for the parade.” He taps his pocket, where his phone is hidden now. “Said she’d be watching. Don’t know how she manages to get away with it, with her schedule planned out months in advance, but she’s … creative.”
Lewis laughs, shaking his head. “The lengths you two go to. Like some kind of fairytale romance.”
The bus they’re on takes another slow turn around the parade route, the lights of Las Vegas casting a surreal glow over the scene. The streets are packed with fans, all of them waving and shouting, and Franco finds himself wondering if you’re watching this right now. He imagines you, curled up on the couch with that fluffy little dog of yours, laughing at the absurdity of it all.
Franco smiles. “Yeah, I guess it really is.”
1K notes · View notes
chaostudee · 3 days ago
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afterglow, oscar piastri
summary : y/n and oscar are childhood bestfriends and y/n tries to be supportive as she can by coming to his races and cheering him on. oscar enjoys y/n's company but sometimes he wishes that he could have you all to himself. in truth you are both just to stubborn to admit that you like each other, a little more than just friends. faceclaim : julia hatch a/n : i'm so obsessed with this acc <3
y/nusername
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, sabrinacarpenter, and 456,618 others.
user627 oml
username_11 the prettiest redhead
user9_782 oh girl we need the workout routine asap
sabrinacarpenter literally the most perfect ever 💋
y/nusername all you babes
username1415 to look like y/n 😫
f1fan the prettiest non-wag
user771 in my eyes she's a wag idc
y/nusername love supporting you bestie <3
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》 girl u literally travel the whole world supporting him.....it's giving girlfriend
》 there is nooooo way they are just friends
》 my fav bestiessss
》 she's so supportive eeek i love her !!
》 our mclaren queen
oscarpiastri great weekend with a good haul of points !!
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liked by y/nusername, landonorris, carlossainz and 4,618,929 others.
y/nusername so so proud of you !!
oscarpiastri ❤️
user728 my fav driver forever
f1fan how can u hate on this cutie
username661 great drive oscar !!
user992 i will always be a mclaren girl idc
user290 oscar pastry
oscarpiastri y/n forced me to post these pictures.
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liked by y/nusername, landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux and 2,729,562 others.
y/nusername okay but FORCED is such a strong word....i encouraged you
user728 omgg y/n is so gorge
f1fan okay but appreciation for oscar's photography skills because wowww
user910 love them sm acc
username_56 oh how i love summer break content
user72 oscar pls lemme steal your bsf
f1lover proof the boys and girls can just be friends
landonorris
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》 IS THAT Y/N?!?!
》 LANDO WTHHH OMGGG
》 oscar is defo going to be mad
》 um what in the world
》 posting this on your public story is crazyyy
》 i don't want to hear anyone start saying that they are dating istggg
༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚
texts between y/n and oscar
were you with lando today?? oscar
yeah y/n
oh i didn't know you guys were close oscar
we're just hanging out y/n
yeah right, i know lando oscar
omg stop oscar i can do what i want y/n
ik ik that y/n i'm just warning you oscar
okay well i rly don't care about what you think y/n
fine oscar
fine y/n
༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚
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y/nusername now my life is sweet like cinnamon
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liked by landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux, charlesleclerc and 1,772,929 others.
user728 oh !
username_89 she's really just that girl
f1fan not seeing oscar in the likes hurts
user627 imagine your teammate and bsf dating bleh
f1lover living for this drama idc
alexandrasaintmleux obssessed with the dress you look so gorge <3
y/nusername omgg tysmm it's from meskhi
user56 lando and oscar i fear i get it
username72 body is teaaa
f1_672 appreciation for the car 🫠
landonorris amazing weekend great to be back on the podium :)
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liked by y/nusername, charlesleclerc, maxverstappen and 3,618,701 others.
maxverstappen great drive mate and a well deserved win
user that's my goat 🐐
username617 ugh his smile i cant
f1lover omgg best race of the season
user55 so ready for a drive to survive episode on this madness
user728 that podium is literally my dream blunt rotation
f1fan YES U GET IT user756 like carlos, lando and oscar omll i was dying username_55 it was all good until we got no landoscar interaction user617 stopp don't remind me 😭😭
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༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚
texts between y/n and oscar
hey.... y/n
oh wow you're talking to me again oscar
well i figured u needed space y/n
i never wanted space y/n i was just angry oscar
oh okay y/n
so did u want something or...?? oscar
well yk halloween is coming up y/n
oh you still want to do the costume oscar
well i mean we do it every year osc y/n
yeah true, well i guess we shouldn't break tradition oscar
oh yayyy great i'll send you the details :) y/n
༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚
*written*
you stood adjusting your dress as excited chatter filled the room. the party was now in full swing and oscar had still not shown up. sure you had your doubts that he wouldn't but you had known oscar all your life, he wouldn't do that to you.
as if on cue the front door swings open and none other than the man himself steps inside before scanning the room. it's not long before his eyes latch onto yours and it feels as though your heart stops. you can't remember the last time you had seen him and the last time you weren't having an argument over something. oscar smiles and your heart begins to thump in your chest as you see him making his way over to you.
"hey" a familair voice beckons your attention.
you look up at him and smile when you notice that he wore the costume." nice costume" you say giggling as you tuck your hair behind your ear.
"oh yeah my best friend got it for me"
you nod smiling back at him. "so how have you been?"
you roll your eyes before drawing your attention back to him. "is this your subtle way of asking if me and lando are still together"
"i don't care about that" he blatantly lies, scrunching his nose.
"well if you must know we are taking a break right now he said he was too busy for a serious relationship".
oscar scoffs. "what an asshole".
"he's your bestfriend" you say confusingly as you believed that lando and oscar were close.
"yeah but so are you".
your heart warms when you hear that and you feel as though in that moment your friendship has been mended through unspoken words. yet you still wished that he would notice, notice how obviously and madly in love with him you are. you watched as he looked into the distance and there you sat admiring something from afar and out of reach.
y/nusername halloween ;)
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, maxverstappen and 11,772,929 others.
user HUH
user728 i'm so confused
f1fan u and me both girl
user61 if i was lando i would be so pissed BECAUSE WDYM THEY DID A COUPLES COSTUME TOGETHER
f1lover the real ogs know that they do a couples costume every year
user919 ya'll are hating but I LOVE
justaninchident oh how i missed them
user671 lando be tweaking rn
username717 the fits are on point
f1_55 blink twice oscar if u need help
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mclaren lando and oscar youtube video up now !
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liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, user782 and 554,818 others.
user728 OMG THEY MADE UP
username LANDOSCAR YES YES
anon defo just pr
f1fan not lando calling oscar out for getting flustered over y/n 💀
justaninchident okay but the way oscar and lando are looking at eachother omg i acc can't
༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚
texts between lando and y/n
you like him don't you lando
what makes u think that ?? y/n
are u fr y/n lando
the fact that you never stop talking about him and that everytime we are in the garage you can't keep your eyes off him lando
what do you even want me to say?! y/n
i want you to admit it lando
okay fine i like oscar y/n
for how long lando
lando pls y/n
y/n just tell me lando
i mean i've always loved him i just i don't know if he feels the same y/n
oh god you are both so so stupid lando
༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚
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༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚
texts between y/n and oscar
how come u and lando don't hang out as much oscar
wow straight to the point y/n
well why oscar
because y/n
because why oscar
because he's not you y/n
wdym oscar
omg you are so clueless , i never liked lando silly he was just a distraction a way to trick my mind into liking someone else y/n
oh well who do u like oscar
do i actually have to say y/n
yes i want to hear you say it oscar
you y/n
༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚
y/nusername my boy 💞
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liked by oscarpiastri, charlesleclerc, alexandrasaintmleux and 14,717,896 others.
user828 EEEEEEEEEKKKKK
username728 YES FINALLY
user734 STOP THIS IS EVERYTHING TO ME
alexandrasaintmleux so so happy for you, you deserve this sm <3
landonorris happy for you's
user561 awww username717 and this is why i love lando
user727 the hard launch is launching
f1fan omgggg im cryinggg
username_62 they are so perfect for each other
taglist ⭑.ᐟ
@lottalove4evelyn
@sweetestgirlintown111
@mxryxmfooty
@hadidsworld
@llando4norris
@heavy-vettel
@janeh22
@love2readd
@depressedriches
@seonghwaexile
@nichmeddar
578 notes · View notes
wolfchans · 1 day ago
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Eat! Eat, it’s okay! You eat! YOU EAT! ↳ 9 / ∞
209 notes · View notes
ghostlyferrettarot · 3 days ago
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♥︎Pick a picture:💕⭐️Channeled messages from your future self⭐️💕
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•Pile 1 •Pile 2 •Pile 3
❗️This is a collective reading, take what resonates and leave the rest❗️
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💕Masterlist💕
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💙Pile 1:
"You are closer than you think to the life you truly desire, just trust the process."
"The change you fear so much is the door that will lead you to what truly belongs to you."
"Do not underestimate the power of patience; what is to come will be much greater than you imagine."
"Your intuition already knows the answer, it is time to listen to it and act with confidence."
"Remember: everything you have overcome has prepared you for what is to come. There is no turning back."
"Sometimes, moving away from the known is necessary to make room for the new and extraordinary."
"The love you give yourself is the first step to attracting what you deserve in all areas of your life."
"It is time to let go of what no longer serves you; the universe has something better in store for you."
"Your personal power is unbreakable. Do not let anyone or anything make you doubt your ability."
"Opportunities are in front of you, you just need to take the first step with faith and courage."
Hi Pile 1! Your future self is so wise and clever, they are in a powerful position for sure. It's time to take the first step you need, you are capable and are ready for what's next!
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💖Pile 2:
"The calm before the storm is the sign that something big is coming, get ready to receive it."
"Your efforts have not been in vain. The universe is preparing the ground for your success."
"You don't have to have all the answers now. Sometimes, the most important thing is to trust the path."
"You are breaking free from what was holding you back. Peace and clarity are closer than you think."
"Your energy is aligned with change. Don't resist the inevitable, embrace the transformation."
"The time to heal has come. Emotional release is your first step towards fulfillment."
"The stars have aligned your destiny for a greater purpose, trust that everything happens for a reason."
"It's time to manifest what you want. The universe is listening to your deepest thoughts."
"You are in the process of rebuilding yourself, give it time."
"What seems uncertain now, will become clearer in time. Allow yourself to trust the journey."
Hi pile 2! You are in a transformation process and your future self wants you to know that everything will be fine, just give yourself the time you need and don't push to hard; be gentle with yourself, a big hug for you pile 2.
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💕Pile 3:
"Your capacity to achieve great things is far beyond what you imagine. Trust your potential."
"The opportunities you seek are on your way."
"You are ready to receive everything the universe has prepared for you."
"Every challenge you face is an opportunity in disguise. You are being prepared for something much greater."
"The key to success is constant action. Don't stop, the universe is aligning everything for you."
"Doors are opening, and you hold the key. Don't doubt your ability to take advantage of every opportunity."
"Your dreams are valid and attainable. The first step is to believe in them as much as you believe in yourself."
"You are attracting success because you are aligned with your purpose. Keep believing, keep moving forward, the best is yet to come."
"Your capacity to love and create is infinite. Everything you put your heart into doing, becomes art."
"You are exactly where you need to be. Every step you take brings you closer to the person you are destined to be."
Hi pile 3! You are definitely working hard for your dreams and I see that you will be someone very successful! Feel that you are someone artistic, who connects with the most sincere parts of yourself when creating, this will lead you to find your way. Keep going pile 3!
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💕💖Thank you for reading and tell me if it resonated 💖💕
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472 notes · View notes
harrysfolklore · 1 day ago
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i need a lando x brazilian!reader for sao paulo gp!!
persistence - ln4
summary: lando has the biggest crush on a brazilian model and he won’t give up until she gives him a chance
folkie radio: HAPPY LANDO DAY !! for some reason, my lando fics are always my least fave but i needed to post something for his bdayyyy, i hope you like this
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
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liked by landonorris, sabrinacarpenter and 748,296 others
yourinstagram i ❤️ LA
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username1 THE FACE CARDDD
username2 if i looked like that i wouldn’t let anyone give me crap
username3 IT GIRL
alexademie Loved seeing you 😍
username4 brazilian women >>>
iamrebeccad 😍
username5 WHAT IS LANDO NORRIS DOING IN THE LIKES 😭
username6 lando i see you what are you up to
carlossainz55 Hermosa !
↳ username1 sometimes i forget she’s actually friends with carlos
↳ username2 ouuu maybe this is why lando is in the likes
↳ yourinstagram miss you carlitosss
madisonbeer pelase come more often loml 💘
↳ yourinstagram you should comento brazil miss!
username7 LINDA
username8 can’t believe we’re from the same country but i don’t look like this
alexandrasaintmleux ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 you beautyyy
↳ username2 IT GIRLS FR
landonorris Pretty girl 😍
↳ username1 LANDO HELLO?
↳ username2 HES SO BOLD
↳ username3 yn not even replying 😭
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liked by carlossainz55, alex_albon and 1,027,638 others
landonorris memories from my last time in brazil 📸
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username1 LANDOOOO
username2 HELLO SIR WTF
username3 what was the reason for this thirst trap NOT COMPLAINING THO 😭
charles_leclerc Who let the dogs out?
↳ username1 HELP MEEEEE
username4 lando norris what are you up to
username5 I WANT TO LICK HIM
mclaren Good start of the week 🙌
username6 confess lando who are you trying to charm
username7 HES SUCH A MAN
danielricciardo I’m looking respectfully
↳ username2 HE GETS IT
username8 lando posting a thirst trap from BRAZIL and not so randomly commenting on a brazilian model’s post LANDO I SEE WHAT YOU DO
carlossainz55 😂😂😂
username9 BE SERIOUS
f1gossip We’ll get to the bottom of this 👀
username10 i need to know how his brain works
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texts between carlos and lando
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landonorris sent you a message request
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liked by landonorris, lilyrosedepp and 798,499 others
yourinstagram somebody come get this man… i think he got lost in my dms
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username1 IT GIRL
username2 how bad i wish i was her
username3 the amount of random celebs that probably slide into her dms 😭
lizzobeeating those lyrics 🤌🤌
username4 SPILL DEETS
username5 expose them bestie expose them
sabrinacarpenter i’m still laughing
↳ brunamarquezine me too
↳ yourinstagram we all 🤫
username6 i need her bandana asap
username7 MESSY QUEEN
alexandrasaintmleux 😍😍 my style inspo !
↳ yourinstagram miss YOU are my style inspo we need to meet asap ❤️‍🔥
↳ username1 AHHH THIS CROSSOVER
carlossainz55 Forgive him… he’s just a boy
↳ iamrebeccad 😂😂
↳ username2 HUH WHATS THIS ABOUT???
↳ yourinstagram keep him humble carlitos
landonorris stunning 🤤
↳ username1 NOT THIS AGAIN
↳ username2 plot twist hes the man who got lost in her dms
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liked by daniel3.jpg, carlossainz55 and 355,836 others
lando.‪jpg i’ll take that as a compliment
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username1 LANDOOOOO
username2 he remember the password for this account
username3 WHAT DOES HE MEAN 😭
charles_leclerc 😂😂😂😂
daniel3.jpg mate im sure that’s not how it works…
‬ ↳ lando.‪jpg did i ask?
↳ username1 HUH LET ME IN
username4 WHAT IS HE ON ABOUT
username5 who’s attention is he trying to get with this post
username6 lando has been moving weirdly lately
carlossainz55 EMBARRASING
↳ charles_leclerc Please make him understand
↳ georgerussell63 😂😂😂😂
↳ username2 WHAT IS THIS
↳ username3 I NEED TO BE PART OF THEIR INSIDE JOKES
↳ username4 I HATE THEM
↳ lando.jpg can’t hear the haters
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liked by alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris and 609,638 others
yourinstagram monaco i am in you ✨
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username1 FACE CARDDDD
username2 the queen in monaco ? slay
username3 i know a certain mclaren driver will like to hear about this information
gigihadid 😍😍
madisonbeer MY GIRLFRIEND 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩
username4 SCREAMING
username5 her genes are really blessed
↳ username1 ofc she’s a brazilian
brunamarquezine Linda 💘💘
username6 don’t let lando norris find out
username7 LANDO X YN?? is this what i’m getting from this comments ??
↳ username2 more like lando thirsts over her but she ignores him
carlossainz55 No way! We should meet up
↳ yourinstagram i was about to text youuu carlitos
↳ username2 LOVE THEM
jacobelordi 😍
↳ username1 dream couple fr
alexandrasaintmleux FINALLY 🙌🙌
↳ yourinstagram can’t wait to see youuuu gorgeous sass won’t know what hit them
↳ username3 OMFG IT GIRLS MEETING
landonorris 🤤🤤😍
↳ username1 DUDE GIVE IT UP
↳ username2 LANDO PLEASE
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the grid but only the cool ones groupchat
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liked by username1, username2 and 8,649 others
f1gossip Lando was at Sass Cafe in Monaco tonight. Any theories of who the girl might be? 👀
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username1 MESSY LANDO
username2 he’s sooo 😭
username3 i need lando to look at me like that
username4 that happening to me could save me
username5 just fell to my knees
username6 isn’t that yn the brazilian model??
↳ username1 WAIT
↳ username2 you have a point
↳ username3 NO WAY 😩
↳ username4 wait a damn minute that’s her
↳ username5 WHY IS LANDO LOOKING AT HER LIKE THAY
username6 ooohhh i see 👀👀
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yourinstagram has added to their stories
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replies:
iamrebeccad I have major fomo right now 🥲
↳ yourinstagram YOU SHOULD’VE BEEN THERE
madisonbeer 😍😍😍
anokyai monaco loves you ✨✨
alexandrasaintmleux my new bff 💘💘
↳ yourinstagram i literally love you so much
landonorris miss you already 😍
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the grid but only the cool ones groupchat
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liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 612,976 others
yourinstagram first time watching race cars 🏎️ good luck tomorrow to my dear friend carlitosss
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username1 OMGGGGG
username2 SHE WAS AT QUALI ?? SLAY
username3 wag energy
arianagrande 😍😍😍
username4 lando norris was found yelling
username5 THE FACT THAT SHES LANDO’S CRUSH THO
scuderiaferarri ❤️
username6 LANDO X YN FINALLY???
username7 she fits right in she should date lando
username8 WE NEED THE QUEEN AT THE SÃO PAULO GP
username9 the only girl that matters
alexandrasaintmleux Linda 😍😍✨
↳ yourinstagram eu te amo !
brunamarquezine 💘😍🙌
username10 BET LANDO FREAKED OUT
username11 okay but carlos looks so good
carlossainz55 Te quiero!
↳ yourinstagram 🥰🥰
iamrebeccad ❤️❤️❤️
landonorris the most gorgeous girl in the paddock
↳ username1 THERE HE IS
↳ username2 the fact that she has never ever acknowledged any of his comments has me dying
↳ username3 he has BALLS
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landonorris sent you a message request
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liked by username1, username2 and 11,390 others
f1gossip Landinho is in full summer break swing ! The driver was spotted in São Paulo tonight 👀
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username1 LANDINHOOO IS BACK
username2 UMMM AM I READING THIS RIGHT
username3 he did not....
username4 yn just give this boy a chance we all know you keep him hanging
username5 WE WON
username6 he speaks portuguese and all now
username7 this man istg
username8 suddenly brazil is his favorite country in the world
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landonorris sent you a message request
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yourinstagram started following landonorris
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liked by username1, username2 and 13,987 others
f1gossip Lando was spotted out and about in São Paulo tonight, but if you look closely, you might notice he's carrying a purse and a phone with a Rhode case. Was Landinho in a date with someone? 👀
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username1 LORD
username2 CUT THE CAMERAS
username3 lando dating a brazilian woman ?? UM YES
username4 IM SUDDENLY BLIND
username5 if it's not yn then we don't want it
username6 I NEED CONFIRMATION THAT HE WAS WITH YN
username7 oh to have lando norris carrying my purse and phone for me
username8 that's a MAN
username9 GOING INSANE
yourinstagram has added to their stories
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replies:
madisonbeer girl you're so messy but ily
↳ yourinstagram nice case right? 😙
alexandrasaintmleux Are we finally twinning in the paddock?
↳ yourinstagram we'll seeeeeeee
carlossainz55 Excuse me?
↳ yourinstagram hi carlitos
↳ carlossainz55 You really gave that muppet a chance?
↳ yourinstagram what can i say, he's persistent
landonorris Linda 😍😍
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liked by landonorris, bellahadid and 1,287,399 others
yourinstagram i heard something about race cars in são paulo?
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username1 STUNNING
username2 that's not face card that's face economy
alexandrasaintmleux 😍😍🙌
username3 LANDO THIS IS YOUR CHANCE
username4 future wag?
username5 COME ON LANDO SHOOT YOUR SHOT ONE LAST TIME
username6 if the rumors about her and lando are real....
madisonbeer my queen actually 💋
username7 THIS IS WAG MATERIAL
username8 how funny woud it be if she starts dating another driver when lando has been begging since forever
username9 LINDA
userame10 and when the queen graces interlagos with her presence
landonorris 😍😍😍
↳ username1 LANDOOOO
↳ username2 i respect him
↳ username3 you better win that mf race
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liked by username1, username2 and 4,088 others
f1gossip Our eyes are not fooling us, Brazil's national treasure is at the Interlagos circuit paddock with Lando Norris right now
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username1 OMFGGGG
username2 yall don't know the lore
username3 he actually did it....
username4 LANDO NORRIS I NEVER DOUBTED YOU
username5 i used to pray for times like these
username6 HES SOOOOOOOO
username7 lando norris the man that you are
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liked by landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux and 2,098,765 others
yourinstagram i told him we could hard launch only if he scored a podium in my country and he didn't so you'll never know who's this fine man 😙
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username1 STOOOOOPPP
username2 MESSY
username3 girl we know that's lando you fell for his charms
sabrinacarpenter 👀👀👀
username4 LANDO NORRIS YOU CHAMP
iamrebeccad 😂😂😂
username5 never doubting little lando norris again
brunamarquezine NO WAY
username6 im so lost whats going on
username7 from not getting a follow back to this LANDOOOO
carlossainz55 Ay dios mio 🤦‍♂️
↳ yourinstagram we love you carlitossss
↳ username1 i bet he refused to be lando's wingman so many times
bellahadid we have some catch up to do
username8 plot twist this is not lando
username9 THIS PICTURE IS SO HOT
username10 most iconic couple already
landonorris i wonder who that fine man could be
↳ username1 LANDO YOU DO THE HARD LAUNCH
↳ username2 i bet he's living
landonorris o mais linda 😍😍
↳ username3 LANDINHOOO
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liked by yourinstagram, oscarpiastri and 1,898,375 others
landonorris lost the podium but won something else. obrigado 🇧🇷
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username1 OMFG
username2 THIS MAN ISTG
username3 lando norris you're one little menace
charles_leclerc FINALLY
↳ georgerussell63 After years of being rejected
↳ danielricciardo Look at our boy go 🙌
↳ username1 HEEEELPP THEY ALL KNEW
maxverstappen1 You owe me...
↳ username2 I NEED THE LOREEE
mclaren 🧡
username4 THIS IS TOO ICONIC
username5 okay she's gorgeous
username6 persistence is key i guess
username7 HEEELP HE JUST COULDN'T WAIT
username8 lando dating a brazilian is such a win
yourinstagram you're a cutieeee i guess
533 notes · View notes
dragon-ascent · 3 days ago
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Imagine being able to see people’s elemental aura. If they bear a vision, the energy around them takes the color of the corresponding element. So Pyro users have a burning red-orange energy flickering about them while Dendro wielders are draped in a calm deep green. Only you can see their aura, perhaps just a special (but mostly useless) gift you were born with.
Which is why when you start working for Wangsheng Funeral Parlor and are introduced to Zhongli, you’re freaking out that you can’t tell anyone he’s actually the Geo Archon who is supposed to be dead.
Shimmering golden rays with a glare so intense they may just be exploding stars suspended in sunlight…yes, the aura around him is simply unmistakable. The Dendro Archon’s wavelength was of a similar intensity back when you attended the Sabzeruz festival. The appearance of the Raiden Shogun during Irodori had you beholding a similar feeling.
Zhongli’s every action only confirms it, not that confirmation was ever needed. His knowledge is too vast to be that of a young man, his mannerisms more ethereal than worldly, his gait steadier than stone.
Soon enough, he takes notice of the way you’re always so jittery around him – but he chalks it up to you being a naturally skittish thing. So he tries to alleviate your nerves by talking to you any chance he gets…not that that helps because his every word has you even more on edge.
“So true, bestie!” you blurt out after he’s told you something that’s gone in one ear and out the other. “Speaking of, isn’t it so sad that Rex Lapis is dead?”
Zhongli pauses, eyeing you curiously. “My dear, this is the third time this week you have brought up the topic of the Geo Lord’s death. Has it affected you so? Please take comfort in that He remains in all our hearts, watching over us common folk from the afterlife.”
He’s mocking me, I just know it! you think, your cheeks heating up as you try not to stare at the divine golden aura crackling around him.
One time, as (un)luck may have it, you accidentally bump into him and spill coffee on his beautiful suit. “Oh gods! Forgive me!” you wail, getting onto your knees. This time…this time he’ll certainly show you his godly wrath…maybe skewer you with his spear…or summon a fissure to swallow you…
But Zhongli is chuckling softly, dabbing at the stain with his lovely embroidered handkerchief. “Please do not fret, my friend. This is nothing a wash will not fix.”
You then insist you’ll cover the cost and get it cleaned, to which he eventually accedes. Holy…when he takes it off to reveal his cream-coloured shirt underneath, it’s like his aura gets even more blinding. It takes everything in you not to just throw yourself at his feet and sing his praises.
(How gorgeous he looks as he works the rest of the day with his coat off.)
He warmly invites you over to his place for tea when you come to return his coat, now cleaned; the house is as well-kept as he is. As night falls, the glow around him only strengthens in response. You can’t stop yourself from asking, mid-sip of your well-made tea:
“What’s Rex Lapis doing working a salaried job?”
474 notes · View notes
brattyspence · 2 days ago
Text
virginia is for lovers | s.reid
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summary: model!reader accidentally exposes their relationship through a soft launch instagram post
tags: model!reader x spencer, penelope included <3, smau
a/n: this is kinda short n pointless but i wanted a reason to write reader tweeting abt spencer and its been in my drafts for weeks so
word count: 1.1k
masterlist
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Spencer had worked hard to keep you a secret. 
Not because he wasn’t thrilled to be in your life, because he really, really was. Historically, things had a tendency to go south as soon as word got out, especially when it came to his personal life. 
You had met in a bookstore. It was a short interaction; you were busy debating which translation of The Stranger was most appropriate to read. You must have been standing in the aisle of the bookstore a little too long, holding two copies side by side, when he had offered his two cents on the matter.
Typically, you weren’t one to entertain conversation in public. Nine times out of ten, you’d get one word in before the inevitable “Please can I take a picture? I love your blog so much!”, but this was different. You weren’t even sure he had even seen your face before he started talking to you. He wasn’t initially trying to hit on you, either. He was genuinely excited that someone was willing to listen to him ramble about the differences between the Ward and Guilbert translations, so when you responded in such a way that asked him to continue on, he was surprised. 
That day, you’d left the store with four more books than intended, and a single bookmark where he had written his phone number after you asked for it.  He had asked you for your name; a confirmation that he actually had no idea who you were. 
The rest was history. You saw him whenever possible, spent nights on the phone together, and flew across the country often just to see him. You loved having a relationship that didn’t need to be public, but you were also excited to share bits of it with the world.
It was late at night, and he was sitting at his desk in the bullpen, trying to finish the last of the paperwork he’d been assigned, when he heard commotion from Penelope’s office. He figured it was nothing new; probably just some news about the royal family or one of the real housewives again, but she’d thrown her door open in such a way that it garnered attention from everyone in the office.
“Spencer Reid,” She gripped her phone and rushed across the room with determination. “Do you have something you want to share with me?”
He looked up from his paperwork, furrowing his eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”
“Why are you on my Instagram feed?” She placed her phone on his desk in front of him. 
“I’m not on instagram,” he replied. 
“Oh, but you are,” she said. “You are such a little liar. I can’t wait to tell Derek about this.”
She pushed his paperwork aside, plopping her phone down in front of him. It was a slideshow on instagram. A photo of the most recent bouquet he bought for you. A few from the museum you’d visited together, including several where his hands or shoes were visible, but nothing that really pointed to him. He could almost make the argument Penelope was mistaken, until the last photo, which included just enough of his apartment to confirm her questioning.
“You said you were seeing someone and I thought… someone from a chess tournament, or maybe… oh, I don't know. Literally anyone else? But you bagged a model?” 
“I-” he sighed. “How did you find her?”
“I didn’t find her, Spencer. I’ve followed her for years! I see her posts all the time. I can’t believe you.”
He scrolled down.
liked by @jjareau and others
@yourusername: virginia is for lovers :)                                              posted 12 hours ago
↪ @randomuser1: GIRL STOP TEASING WHO IS HE
↪ @randomuser3: i’ve been trying to figure it out since that tweet last month 😞
↪ @randomuser2: this is the sweetest soft launch i’ve ever seen <3
↪ 12k comments
He clicked onto your profile. 
@yourusername 
5.2M Followers
Followed by @jjareau, @emp.sergio and more
“You’ve got to see her Twitter, lover boy. She’s been gushing about you.”
“Oh, god,” he groans. So much for privacy. He lets her take the phone back, redirecting his attention to your Twitter page. She scrolls back to June before handing it over, letting him read in chronological order.
June 10
@yourusername: hot girl summer is officially over. just asked a man for HIS number.
June 25
@yourusername: is it offensive to men if you call them pretty? bc this man is rlly pretty 
@yourusername: update: apparently it is not :)
July 30:
@yourusername: good morning text + picture of a dog that he claims reminded him of me???? gonna ask for his hand in marriage
August 15
@yourusername: up til 2 bc hes explaining quantum mechanics to me 🧚🏻
@yourusername: embarrassed to say that form of dirty talk worked on me 
August 20
@yourusername: oh btw im a girlfriend now!
↪@yourfan1: look u long enough wtf girl
↪@yourusername: dw im locking him down 🫡
↪@yourfan2: thats OUR man now 💘
“Oh, wow.”
She takes the phone back. “Why didn’t you tell anyone? Or me? Oh, this is great news. You’re bringing her to Rossi’s next, week, right?”
“I- Pen, I have no idea.” He laughs. He watches her type away on the device aggressively. “Are you texting everyone?”
���Yuh-huh. I need to call JJ, like… yesterday. And this isn't the end of this conversation!” She darted back into her office quickly, letting the door fall shut behind her.
He decided his remaining paperwork could wait. He packed his things up in a hurry, and decided to head out of the office, dialing your number on the way out. 
You picked up on the first ring. 
“Hey,” you started. “How was work? Are you heading out?”
“Yeah,” He started. He pushed through the glass doors of the office, staring towards the stairwell. “It was… busy. I just had a really interesting conversation with my coworker.”
“Mhm…” You had been lounging in your hotel room waiting for his call. “About..?”
“You, actually.” He replied. “She follows you on instagram. Apparently most of the office does. She showed me your post today.”
“Oh,” you replied. “Oh god, Spence. I’m sorry. I didn’t think… anyone would be able to tell who you were.”
He laughs. “Yeah, well… I work with some… characters. It’s totally fine, though.”
“Are you sure?” You ask, anxiously.
“Yeah. It was cute,” he replied, smiling to himself as he exited the building. “Tasteful.”
“That's what I wanted,” You reply.
“I thought Twitter was much more interesting, though.”
You froze, cringing. “Oh, god. Tell me you didn't read all of it.
He chuckles. “I skimmed it.”
You groan. 
587 notes · View notes
estaticheart · 2 days ago
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ᥫ᭡. THAT’S MY SISTER YOU BITCH
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Summary: Despite Sarah and Rafe’s volatile relationship, that’s your sister.
Warnings: Violence, illusions to sex, swearing.
You had a great day so far. You'd woken up to Rafe in between your legs, waking you up in the best way possible before he made you both breakfast as you watched him from the island. Sometimes you just liked to ponder on how lucky you were to have a boyfriend like Rafe. To everyone else, you were far from lucky but you liked it that way- knowing only you got the real Rafe Cameron.
Now, you were on your way back from grocery shopping, planning to make Rafe a romantic meal when he arrived back from work. Blasting music from your car speakers, you were completely in the zone. Until you drove up to the City Hall, glancing ahead you saw Kelce's red truck, which you thought nothing of until you saw him and his idiotic friends surrounding John B and Sarah.
Alarmed, you pulled up next to the truck, gathering the attention of everyone. Despite being a kook yourself, you were far different from the rest of them. You didn't care about pogues, to you they were like anyone else, in fact often you preferred the pogues in the Outer Banks to the kooks. Rafe's circle exclusively consisted of kooks, meaning you often received a lot of respect from kooks even though you spent a lot of your time arguing with them. Rafe didn't mind it, you were his girlfriend and lover, so if you wanted to yell he wouldn't stop you.
"Problem?" You asked, slamming your car door shut behind you. Just as Sarah hit the ground. Immediately you rushed towards Sarah. Yeah, Rafe and Sarah had problems they needed to get past but to you, Sarah was still as important as she was 2 years ago. You were proud of her for finding her true love and true friends, and you always let her know that you would always be there for her. And this time was no exception. Putting two and two together, you saw Ruthie standing much closer to Sarah than the other kooks who looked at her in shock.
They all stood stunned at your arrival, to be honest, you were probably the worst possible person to show up at that exact moment. Everyone knew your opinions on the Pogues were far more empathetic than the other kooks. "No, no problem" Kelce muttered, beginning to pull Ruthie and the others back from Sarah and John B, to which they happily obliged. Not on your watch.
"Oh no, don't stop on my accord guys. Please whatever you were going to do next. Do it." Walking over to them, Ruthie stood stunned at your arrival. Since she started dating Topper, you got a lot of joy out of berating her, publically. For once, she didn't back down at your words. "She needs to watch herself. She pushed me first, it was self-defence." Ruthie said, glancing behind you to see John B pulling Sarah to her feet.
Snorting you replied, "Ruthie, I'm not Shoupe. Don't start pleading your case, I don't care." She stalled at your response, for a moment thinking that you were on her side for pushing Sarah before you pulled her back to reality. Walking closer to her, edgingly slow, you pressed, "You think you're all big and mighty for pushing Sarah? She's 19 Ruthie, you're what? 21? Don't you think you should play with someone your own size?"
Behind you, John B and Sarah smirked at the group. Unbeknownst to you, Sarah was pregnant and John B was far too occupied to make sure Sarah was okay than to pick a fight with Kelce and his goons today. But you happily would, and even better so because who was going to fight back against the kook princess? Definitely not these ones.
“Well?” You pushed, as you stood toe to toe with Ruthie. You were growing impatient, Rafe would have finished work by now meaning that soon he’d come looking for you- and you’d rather give Ruthie a good couple punches before Rafe showed up.
“Okay times up.” Before she could even think, your fist sent her backwards onto the floor, just how Sarah had been when when you arrived. Groaning, she lifted her hands to cover her nose, assumably bleeding- hopefully broken if Rafe’s self defence lessons had done some good. “Oh my god- I think you broke my nose. You bitch.” She shrieked, pulling her hands away to reveal blood beginning to pour from her nose.
Ruthie was nothing but a bully, a bully you’d had enough of tormenting the island. Your legs either side of her chest you crouched over her, “Don’t worry you still look just as bad as before.” You muttered as you flew your fist back into her face that she left unguarded. Idiot. Her screaming began again, as you moved off from her, deciding that your two punches had done enough damage. Wow, you’d really have to thank Rafe for those lessons.
“Just wait until Topper hears about this, he will deal with you.” One of the other kooks muttered from behind Kelce. “Yeah I’m sure Topper will be sure to deal with me.” You laughed, Topper wouldn’t touch a hair on your arm as long as you were dating Rafe- everyone knew that.
“You want to fuck with someone, not Sarah.” You spat at them, watching Ruthie sadly pull herself to her feet, with the help of no one. “That’s my sister you bitch. Now fuck off.” At your command, Kelce briskly walked back over to his truck, as the others followed just as fast, allowing you to turn back to John B and Sarah.
You were greeted to their smiling faces, both as grateful as each other. But you noticed, a twinge of emotion still lingering on Sarah’s face. Hearing you call her your sister in combination with her pregnancy hormones, was due to set her off to cry. Before she could get out any words, you spoke for her. “You are my sister regardless of whatever is going on between you and Rafe. You’re family.” Turning to John B, you continued, “That extends to you, hubby.” You winked looking down at the ring on his finger.
With a red blush covering their faces, they praised you in thank yous. “Don’t need to thank me for doing something I’ve been wanting to do for months.” Glancing back to see the red truck had disappeared.
“Now, you can thank me for warning you that Rafe will be here any minute and I’m not sure you want to see him.”
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“Baby, please be more careful next time.” Rafe muttered, as he wrapped your knuckles in bandages. He was more than shocked to find you outside the city hall- alone- but with bloody knuckles. Only with the explanation, that you had an altercation with Ruthie, surprisingly over Sarah. He was confused to say the least, he wasn’t even aware that Ruthie had a problem with his little sister. But the more he thought about it, of course she did- Topper still hadn’t gotten over her.
“In fact, there will be no next time. Ever.” Kissing your knuckles, he pulled you onto his chest as he lied back on your shared king bed. Stroking your hair, he let his mind wonder. Should he have been there to protect Sarah? But they hadn’t had a good relationship in years, he couldn’t just suddenly start caring for her. He also couldn’t let you get into situations that could get you hurt over protecting Sarah.
You noticed his body still and you knew instantly his mind was wondering thinking about Sarah. Without moving your head from his chest you spoke, “Rafe. I love Sarah. I know you have a difficult relationship at the moment and whilst you can’t protect her I will.” Letting the silence sit between you for a moment, you decided to continue.
“She’s our only family, Rafe.” He didn’t move, but you both knew how right you were. She was all you had left. “I know baby, I know.” He whispered, laying a kiss on the top of your head, before he let his mind slip back into imagining how he can rectify this broken relationship with his sister.
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birdantlers · 1 day ago
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Hey, you.
Are you also upset and angry about the election? Are you concerned about the likely election tampering and collusion that won* Trump this election?
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EVERY SINGLE AMERICAN who voted blue in this election needs to do this. Don't lie down and let fascism take hold of this nation even more than it already has.
Call (202) 456-1111 Tuesday—Thursday 11:00AM—3:00PM and demand an investigation.
Check the status of your ballot at vote.org. Report any issues to the DOJ voter fraud hotline: 1-800-253-3931 for those whose ballot isn’t being counted.
Here are some state-specific hotlines as well:
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Here is an in-depth guide to effectively contact your representatives (lik is different from pictures below).
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Here is the submission form to submit concerns the the White House as well as instructions and sample text ideas below (not pasting the actual text as incentive for people to write their own—if you submit a message or multiple messages, make sure there are differences so that nothing gets flagged as spam).
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Lastly, I'd like to say that for the record I'm not advocating for her as some kind of savior; she's a politician with flaws and dirty laundry, but I also would urge you to consider donating to the Harris-Walz campaign fund, which has been updated to include funding for a ballot recount.
I think this is a very important thing to support and to spread, as it has appeared quietly in the fund's footnotes. I would like to think that the admin wouldn't go down without swinging before January, but unless they get some money thrown at them I'm not sure the odds of us finding out will be as good—sad as that is. Remember, even if it's just a dollar, or less—if everyone who ran across this on their dash donated, it would still generate thousands.
I'm not saying all this to be a shill for a politician who's still a basically-centrist politician at the end of the day. I'm doing this because I'm pissed off and desperate to not see my home become a totalitarian dystopia.
I know that as more time passes, as more government positions are announced by the charlatan-elect, as people clap their hands in celebration of an anti-constitutional takeover, it can feel hopeless to fight. It isn't. January 20th is still months away.
This is not the time to submit to despair. This is the time to put our dukes up. The bystander effect is how a movement dies, and when affirmative action has to be taken remotely, it's an even bigger threat. Don't assume. Don't be these guys:
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Call your reps. Track your ballots. Defend and report those ballots if missing, and regardless of that, submit those White House comments.
Even if you can't do all of these, try to do any little bit you can. Doing a small something is ALWAYS better than doing nothing, and for my fellow disabled, adhd, exhausted, etc. bitches I know that's the difference between making any progress or not.
This should go without saying, but please reblog this post. Send it to people, even people outside of Tumblr. Spread it regardless of whether you live in the US. I would also advise sharing more than once so followers who are AFK the first time(s) can see it during downtime.
And if anyone turns their nose up at you and says what you're doing is pointless—even if that voice comes from inside—shut that shit down. There's no perfect third trolley track that's going to hand down action free of conflict or flaws, but there's also a raging, stupid fascist in line for the presidency.
This is no time for half measures.
Don't give up. Don't shut up. Don't hand over your rights without a fight.
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*hoe cheated
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 days ago
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How about batboys reacting to seeing their lover’s nip piercings through their shirt? like that’s the first time they’ve seen them? (i’m getting mine done soon i’m hyped)
Nipple piercings are so fucking cool dude! Funny enough I have a friend who’s got their nips pierced, all I know it’s a sensitive spot to get pierced but they look really cool. Also I now got snakebites…eating will be a little different but I’ll be okay.
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Dick is fighting for his life, gnawing at the bars of his enclosure the moment he got a little peak of your nipple piercings.
He’s trying not to groan aloud at all because nipple piercings are his weakness and of course you have to go get them and turn him with them. They look beautiful, stunning, gorgeous on you even that he can’t help but take sneak peaks now and then at your tits, hoping to catch a glimpse of the metal piercing through your shirt.
He loves your piercings, they’re his favourite things to look at in all honesty and he’ll look at them all day if he could.
‘Looking good babe!’ He’d say upon first seeing them and you couldn’t help but smile, knowing damn well that the moment you got them done that Dick would be all over you like a rash.
‘Thank you sweetie, nice to know you noticed I got them done in the first place.’ You said with a chuckle as you gestured towards your chest and feeling his eyes there immediately it was humorous.
‘I notice everything babe and I must say they’re looking gorgeous.’ Dick replied as he gazes at the metal bars through your shirt with adoration, fascination and a little bit of lust. ‘Need me to give them some aftercare?’ He adds wiggling his eyebrows playfully as you laugh. ‘As much as I would love that but these puppies are fresh and I’ve been given strict rules to follow if I want them to heal correctly.’ You tell him and see his shoulders defeat and a pout crosses his lips, he was so dramatic that even your own nipple piercings weren’t safe.
‘Fine, I’ll wait until they get better and then I’ll give them some tender loving care of my own.’ Dick promises and you didn’t doubt that for a single second, after all nipple piercings were a little weakness of his.
Tim is looking away immediately, he didn’t mean to look at all and felt as though he’s overstepping some boundaries by looking and that’s not what he wants to do.
He’ll twiddle his thumbs or play with his phone so that he doesn’t accidentally look directly at your nipple piercings through your shirt and you catch him doing so by pure coincidence. Tim seriously think he might faint if he saw pierced nipples as it was an sensitive part of your body as well as an intimate area to have done, though that doesn’t mean he won’t compliment your piercing sheepishly.
‘They look wonderful honey.’ He’d say with a flustered expression, the imagine of your pierced nipples now engraved in that photographic mind of his, which was a blessing and a curse. Poor boy just wanted to say you have nice piercings without coming across as weird or creepy for staring there at the first place, regardless of whether he was your partner or not.
‘You can look Tim, I really don’t mind.’ You tell him as you watch him internally struggle with himself and decided to end the conflict for him instead, not wanting to see him so worried like he was right now as he gripped his phone so tight you fear he’d break it.
Tim peaks at the corner of his eye to look at your piercings through your shit and he swallows thickly, a piercing shouldn’t have this much affect over him but here he was finding a simple piercing pretty and enticing. It suited you that was for certain and Tim couldn’t help but admire the way they looked beneath your shirt, it was almost like a little tease of what was there and it would be enough to send anyone mad with want.
However Tim only looked at them and admired your ability to go through with it and getting them pierced, even despite the knowledge that they’ll hurt you went through with it anyway and came out with something, ‘beautiful, they look beautiful.’
Jason may look like he’ll stare at your nipple piercings but is actually trying his hardest to not looks at them unless you want him to.
‘Jason! I got my nipples pierced! Look!’ You’d exclaim, lifting your shirt to show him the metal bars that pierced through your now erect nipples with shining pride.
‘You look gorgeous sweetheart.’ Jason would say truthfully as he gazed upon your piercings, before his mind wondered to the pain you endured to get them pierced, seeing as how nipples were notorious sensitive and piercing them only seemed to make Jason wince internally. ‘But that must’ve killed to get done chipmunk.’ He adds and you only smiled as you dropped your shirt, making sure it didn’t catch your piercings and shrug.
‘I mean yeah it did but they look came out looking fantastic don’t you think jay bird?’ You asked as you gestured towards your piercings. Jason swallowed thickly as he was quick to agree with your statement, not wanting to show just how affected he was by your pretty piercings. ‘There’s no doubt about that sweetheart, none at all.’ He says as you walked over and held his face, fingers trailing towards his pulse point that was beating faster than usual, and giggling softly.
‘It’s okay for you to look, look all you want I really don’t mind because at least someone other than myself is going to admire them and who better than my handsome partner.’ You teased as you kissed his lip before pulling away.
‘Sweetheart you’re going to kill me one of these days.’ Jason groaned as he pulled you in close while being careful with your piercings, having read somewhere that torso related piercings can take up to six moths recovering, with nipple related piercings needing a maximum of a month in fresh nursing pads. He just wants your piercings to heal without any problems or worries and so he’ll put aside his desire to get closely acquainted with them.
You smiled as you kissed his cheek. ‘But you love me for it.’
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yandere-sins · 2 days ago
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Monstober - Day 9: Folklore Creatures
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Spin on "Little Red Riding Hood" anyone? What could be better than someone so obsessed with you, they simply want to eat you up?
Prompt: Folklore Creatures | Cautionary Tales // Truth // Naivity Warnings: Yandere, Violence (non-main character murder, Blood Mention, Implied Bullying of the reader (off-screen)), Topic of Jealousy, Posessiveness
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"Love you, hun."
Pressing a gentle kiss to your head, your boyfriend got up, stretching his arms high over his head and popping his neck before he got to his feet with a sigh. "Where are you going? Do you really have to leave?" you mumbled, the disappointment unmistakably in your voice. It had been like this for weeks now, where you two spent a passionate night before he slipped out without a trace to find him all day.
"Mhm," he sighed, leaning down to you again to catch your lips once more. "You know how much it pains me, but I got to go before it's too late. Wouldn't want to awaken the monster in me, would you?"
He said it as if it was a challenge, and you giggled, thinking it was just another innuendo. "Wouldn't let me get out of bed, huh?"
"Oh, I'd gobble you up, darling."
Laughing, he stepped away, putting his shirt back on as he dipped into the bathroom of your small apartment real quick. The moment he disappeared from view, you couldn't help your expression from showing the disappointment and frustration you felt. It had been almost a month now, and you two never went out together in the daylight, never saw each other except when he picked you up for a night out in the club or came to watch a movie that was never finished.
It felt more like you were his friend-with-benefits—you didn't even know his last name.
As if you were the other one.
The thought made your blood boil. You weren't proud of it, but in a moment of jealous weakness, you had checked his phone, seeing countless messages where he told people how excited he was to hang out and make appointments with them while he never seemed to do the same for you. It didn't seem like he had another partner in his life, but how could you be sure when he played the role of the mysterious night visitor rather than your wholesome boyfriend?
Was he ashamed of you? Were you not good enough? Did he just keep you around for his entertainment? The questions plagued you as he never gave you a good answer. He wouldn't even entertain the discussions, only vowing that he loved you and his work was very important and took him all day.
So why was he meeting other people then?
There wasn't much time once he said his goodbyes, his kisses nothing short of loving and sweet. For a possible cheater, he was good at what he was doing. You only had a few seconds of self-doubt about what you were going to do before you were out of the door and hunting after him, long coat and sunglasses on in true stalker-fashion. It felt wrong, and you hated yourself for mistrusting him so much, but at the same time, you two were still practically strangers, knowing so little while still being so in love. A little craziness was inevitable, right?
However, as your boyfriend turned from the main street into the shady path leading to the central park of your town, you suddenly felt a sense of panic. What if you accidentally got involved with some shady fellow? What if this was a drug deal or worse? Why would someone need to go to a park in the middle of the night?
You had assumed he was leaving you alone every night to hook up with other people or go back to an unsuspecting partner, but as you gently brushed through the thicket, trying to stay out of the moonlight that would give away your presence, you suddenly weren't so sure anymore.
You could still see him as he walked further into the park. It should have been your sign to leave, get away while you could, and cut all contact... but you had already gotten this far. Following closely by hiding behind trees and the occasional park bench, you tracked him through the greenery. Once, he almost seemed to spot you, but you ducked into a bush just in time, regretting this move only when the thicket tore at the fabric of your coat, making unnecessary noise. Still, you managed to stay hidden, heart racing and always alert.
Eventually, your boyfriend sat on a park bench in front of a pond. Nothing much happened for the next few minutes, and you were about to call this mission off, seeing how relaxed he was. It was as if he simply enjoyed hanging out in the park at night like a semi-normal person would.
But footsteps crunching over the gravel made you cower lower, your eyes fixating on the person approaching. Your boyfriend lifted a hand in greeting, and the person sprinted forward, hood falling off her head, revealing a cruel sight.
Because you knew the woman your boyfriend was meeting.
Your bully.
Heart sinking into your stomach, you watched as she jumped into his arms, giggling as your boyfriend spun her around. The only reason for them to meet you could think of was that the two set you up, made you fall in love with him so they could laugh at you behind your back. It really broke your heart to watch them cuddle on the park bench, your boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—ruffling her hair.
You didn't want to stay to see this.
It was a good thing you found out, but with tears filling your eyes, you knew you had to leave before you were discovered or hurt yourself more by watching them. This trainwreck wasn't one you should have been observing, and it hurt enough that you wanted to never come out of your home again.
"You know, [Name]?" your boyfriend suddenly asked, the sound of your name on his tongue so bittersweet.
"Who? Oh..." your bully replied, thinking for a moment. "What about them? They are a loser, not worth your time."
"Is that so? Because they told me about you, lots of things."
"You're ruining the mood. Isn't it enough that I agreed to meet you here? It's so creepy! Did you know how they found quite a few bodies lately around this park? We should go clubbing or to a bar, why are we even here talking about some loser?"
Your bully let out a frustrated sigh, throwing her hair back over her shoulder before leaning close. "You know we never even kissed until now. Don't you think it's such a waste of those lovely lips to talk when we could make out instead?"
Letting out a dry laugh, he didn't seem flattered at all as she tried to avert the topic of you. Good, you thought, because you really weren't up to hearing about yourself from the bully and the traitor. Even so, you couldn't move. As if you were frozen to the spot.
"Good thing you mentioned that. I prefer not making my partner worried about whether I'm cheating or not."
"Partner?" your bully spat, scrunching up her nose, the ugliness of her expression matching her personality. "Don't tell me you're fucking with that. I thought you had better taste when you asked me out to dinner the last few times. Thought you'd appreciate beauty more--"
Her words were cut off as your boyfriend's hand wrapped around your throat. He brought her face closer to his, sounding more enraged than you had ever heard him before. "How dare you talk about them like that. They are perfect. Wonderful. Special. It's filth like you that needs to be taken out so my love can be happy."
The two rose from their seat, and you watched as your boyfriend seemingly effortlessly hoisted your bully into the air. Something felt off, and you couldn't look away as you watched the clothes on his body tearing apart, your bully struggling as his fingers stretched and wrapped around her neck completely. She let out mewls and gasps as she tried to kick him, tried to make him stop, but the horror was in both of your eyes as you watched your boyfriend transform.
Skin turned into fur, mouth into snout. His posture changed as his body grew taller, monstrous, into a beast. Part of you couldn't believe your own eyes as you watched him take on canine features as if you were in a movie, watching a werewolf transform, but by the way, your bully was struggling harder, unable to scream, you realized it was real, and she saw it too.
Horrified, you could only clasp your hands over your mouth, containing your shivers. Doggish years popped up from his head, twisting and turning towards your direction. You had to be quiet, undetected, or surely, you'd be the next prey of that monster. His snout opened, long, sharp teeth glistening in the moonlight, and you heard the gurgled scream of your bully before the beast pounced, biting between her neck and shoulder.
Your bully was still kicking and trying to break loose as blood gushed from the bite, her sounds turning into gurgles before everything quieted out, and she stopped moving. Even though your eyes were so wide open, you couldn't believe them at all, couldn't understand what just happened, only listening to the sound of fluids gushing out and dripping to the floor, bones breaking beneath the claws and massive jaw, and eventually, her body simply slipping from his grip, seemingly meaningless.
"[Name], [Name], [Name]. Isn't it so impolite to eavesdrop on others?" the monster suddenly grumbled. Its massive head swung in your direction, eyes scanning from one side of the thicket to the other before finally settling on you despite the greenery. "I didn't want you to find out like this. We could have talked about it some other time—like on a picnic!"
Putting his feet into motion, you were still completely frozen as you watched the creature march towards you. If this was a bad dream, now would have been a good moment to wake up. You two held the eye contact, even as you watched the grotesque features slowly turn back into a human, first the head, then arms.
"Well, it is your business, too, I'll admit. I've been doing this all of you. Was I not a good boy, taking care of all these mean people for you?"
Until now, you had never taken much notice of the people you disliked disappearing. If anything, you were glad they weren't around anymore. But now that he was pointing it out, a cold shudder ran down your spine, guilt overcoming you.
"They were in the way of your happiness, and I need a good meal every now and then. We both got something out of it, you sweet, sweet thing—look at you cowering. Are you scared? Of the big, bad wolf? What if I'm a nice wolf, will you come to me then? Don't worry, no one's going to hurt you, I'll take care of all that try."
Even with the words so sweetly murmured, you didn't dare move and fall for his promises. He was a fucking werewolf or any other kind of monster! But werewolf made the most sense. It also explained so much more, for example, how he knew exactly where you were. It only made you wonder if he knew all along. Let himself be exposed to you. Wanting for you to see this.
See him.
Now back in his human form, he reached into the bush, parting it aside to reveal your cowering form. His grin widened as he watched you trembling in fear from him, this... other side of him probably enjoying a primal thrill at the prey he had caught.
"What... what are you? You had those big ears-"
"-to hear your thrilling pulse, darling."
"And your eyes were-"
"-so I could spot you and make sure you'd not hurt yourself, sweetheart."
"A-And your mouth was... you know."
At this, he simply grinned, and you gulped down any other word. "Gobble you up," he said earlier that night. It had not just been a sexy innuendo.
"Are you... going to kill me, too?" you asked woefully, feeling like your fate had already been sealed.
"You? Now, now, who'd do such a thing."
Clicking his tongue at you as if you had just insulted him, your boyfriend stepped through the gap in the bush, crossing over into your hideout, destroying every safety this thicket had provided with his presence. He leaned down, picking you up with what you now knew was unnatural strength and holding your bridal style as he carried you back towards the pond. The moonlight shined down on you two, the reflection on the water's surface blinding you. But it wasn't enough to make you forget about the body that laid just below you.
"I'm glad you could make it here, though. I wanted to enjoy the full moon with you for so long, you know? But you did interrupt my meal, how are you going to make up for it?" he asked, not a hint of seriousness in his voice. As if this was all a game rather than the brutal reality you had only just learned about.
"I--" you sputtered, unable to answer that. Your mind kept coming back to realize you were the next best meal to have and served as if on a silver platter as he carried you.
"Juuust joking," your boyfriend laughed. "How about we go home and order some late-night food? I'm so hungry!"
Ignoring the dead body on the floor, he merely stepped over it, chatting about whether he wanted burger or tacos as if he hadn't just revealed himself to be a fairytale monster and killed someone.
"Or, you know, we could make this fun. You could run, and I could catch you, have a nibble of those sweet cheeks; how about it?"
You felt the blood drain from your face, and his grin diminished as he watched you cower into yourself, his grip tightening around as you grew tense. "Okay, too early, got it."
"You're really not going to kill me?"
"Nope. Can't. You're my mate. You're what all werewolves crave—what I crave. Your happiness is all that satisfies me."
"Then... you'll let me go if I want to?"
His expression turned into a frown, and he shook his head. "There are rules," he said factually. "I'll explain them to you someday. But basically, they don't allow us to tell people about our existence. If I let you go, you might tell someone and--"
"I won't! I promise! I'll take your secret to the grave, please!" you pleaded, and your boyfriend grimaced, looking unhappy at your determination.
"And even more importantly-" he continued, raising his voice threatingly to make you behave. "-they teach us to never let our mates go, as there won't be another one. And living without is torture for a werewolf."
"Never?" you whined softly, and the smile returned to his face. Now he looked almost completely back to normal, like the sweet boyfriend you fell in love with. But you couldn't ignore the wolf in a sheep's skin—not with the blood of your bully still clinging to his chest.
"Never," he assured you firmly, and you knew instinctively that he meant it.
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cressidagrey · 3 days ago
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It's a Love Story - Chapter 5
Summary:
Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.
Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.
And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.
Warning:
Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible.
If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.
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“Where’s Az?” Mor asked as Nesta and Cassian entered the dining room at the River House.
“Busy,” Cassian said with a shrug, as he pulled out the chair for his mate, greeting the rest of their family with a smile. 
Mor cocked her head, a small frown appearing on her face. "Busy?" she repeated, a note of curiosity in her voice. "What's he up to?"
Busy. That had been Azriel’s answer to nearly everything after Koshei. Busy.
Even quieter than usual. Keeping away from all of them…and Cassian still heard that one sentence echo in his head. Better me than you. Like somehow Cassians life was worth more than Azriel’s.
Azriel was just being noble and self-sacrificing as usual, right? Cassian knew that his brother didn't really think that way, didn't really believe that his life was worth less than anyone else's. But still, the words haunted him. He couldn't shake the feeling that somehow, somewhere, he had let Azriel down. That he hadn't been there when his brother had needed him the most.
Maybe he should have tried to talk to him...when it all went down… but then he hadn't realised what exactly was even going on, until Nesta had flatly laid it out for him one evening. Azriel had gotten over Mor only to fall in love with Elain...and that hadn't ended in his favour either.
Cassian grimaced just thinking about it. Azriel deserved to be happy. Azriel deserved a mate that loved him, a female that fucking adored him…and instead his brother had fallen not just for one, but two unavailable females. 
And Azriel hadn’t complained. Not once. He had never let it show.
He always kept his emotions hidden under that stoic mask of his, like he was afraid of letting anyone see how much he was hurting. Cassian knew that Azriel would never ask for help, that he would never admit that he needed someone to talk to. But that didn't mean that he didn't need it. 
Cassian just wished that he could find a way to get Azriel to open up, to let him in…that wouldn’t involve beating him to a bloody pulp. 
Azriel acted like everything was fine. Azriel acted like he didn't care. Cassian knew that it was a mask, knew that it wasn't the truth...but Azriel liked to pretend it was...and maybe it was better to let him pretend. 
It wasn't like he was hurting anybody with it, right? He was doing his work just as well as he always did...and if he wanted to spend his free time reading Sellyn Drake books, maybe they should just let him do that…maybe it made him feel better. 
"Maybe he's seeing his secret girlfriend," Cassian drawled.
Mor snorted at that suggestion. "Please," she said with a roll of her eyes. "As if Azriel would ever have time for a girlfriend, let alone a secret one."
"You would be surprised," Cassian muttered under his breath. Apparently Azriel had time for reading Sellyn Drake novels while locked into his room, after all. 
"What's that supposed to mean?" Mor wondered. "He has been...distant lately," she said with a pout.
Cassian could only stare at her. Mor couldn't be serious right now, could she?
Of course, Azriel was distant to her. Mor had fucking broken his heart and trampled on it to top it off. And Cassian had helped her with through the years. He probably owed Azriel an apology for that as well.
And still, Azriel hadn’t complained. Azriel hadn’t called them out. Azriel had taken it silently. Had even congratulated Mor when her Mating Bond with Emerie had snapped. Had been painfully polite, making painfully sure that he didn’t cross any lines, didn’t make Emerie uncomfortable in any way. 
"Just leave him be," Cassian said with a shrug. "He's reading Sellyn Drake novels, he'll be fine,” he waved her off. 
Rhys nearly spit his wine over the table and instead started coughing violently. "Azriel is reading Sellyn Drake novels?!" he asked Cassian with an incredious stare.
"Apparently he has trust in Nesta's taste of literature," Cassian answered easily.
Mor raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Sellyn Drake novels?" she repeated, eyeing Cassian like he had gone mad. "Since when does Azriel read those kinds of books? He's not exactly the...romantic type."
Or maybe there just never had been a single person that had appreciated that side of his brother. Who knew what Azriel actually was into. 
Elain and Mor weren’t similar in the slightest after all. 
Cassian shrugged. "Maybe he's expanding his horizons," he said with a grin. "Or maybe he just wants to see what the fuss is all about. After all, Sellyn Drake is...surprisingly good. Or so I've heard, anyway." He gave a sidelong glance to Nesta, who simply rolled her eyes at him.
Still, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rhys play absentmindedly with the stem of the wine glass. There was something there...between Rhys and Azriel that Cassian couldn't quite put his finger on. Some kind of tension...some kind of...something.
But lately, it had seemed like that tension had only been getting worse. Like they were both holding something back, like they were both waiting for the other shoe to drop. Cassian couldn't help wondering what would happen when that tension finally snapped.
***
"Winnowing or flying?" Azriel asked Sky as they stepped out into the icy early winter air.
"I...I can't...fly?" Sky answered haltingly, looking at him with these devastating blue eyes. They were beautiful. Not a light blue, not a teal, not bordering on violet…just beautiful near cobalt blue. She probably would match his siphons, he reflected weakly. 
"I'll fly, I'll carry you," he gave back with a chuckle. She stared at him like he was insane, her cheeks reddening.
"I...I...you...can...can't carry me. I am too...heavy," she mumbled. Now it was his turn to stare at her.
Azriel couldn't help but scoff at that. "Too heavy?" he repeated, shaking his head in disbelief. "I'm an Illyrian warrior,” he told her drily. “I could carry a full-grown male into battle if I had to,and I have dragged full-grown males off the battlefield…I can carry you.” 
Azriel couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. Was she...was she seriously trying to tell him that she was too heavy for him to carry? She just so reached the middle of his chest! She definitely wasn't thin...her body was covered with soft flesh and lush curves, every inch of it soft and inviting...but even if she weighed twice her weight, he would easily be able to carry her. She would probably weigh next to nothing to him.
And yet, he could sense the insecurity in her voice, the way she didn't quite believe that he could carry her.
He stepped closer to her, placing his hand gently under her chin and tilting her head up so that she was looking directly into his eyes. "You are beautiful," he said softly, his voice full of warmth and sincerity. "And I don't care how much you weigh, I can carry you. I want to carry you. Because you are mine and I will always protect you, no matter what."
Her breath hitched at that, and he could see the warmth spreading through her cheeks as her heart began to race. She looked up at him with those stunning blue eyes of hers, her lips parted slightly in surprise and wonder. "You...you really mean that?" she whispered, her voice soft and shaky. "You...you don't mind how big I am?"
Azriel chuckled softly, shaking his head. "No, sweetheart, I don't mind," he said gently. "I think you are absolutely perfect just the way you are. And if I have to carry you to prove it, then that is what I will do." And without another word, he scooped her up into his arms, cradling her against his chest as easily.
She squeaked as they shot up in the sky and then she laughed, the sound bright and beautiful
They soared through the sky together, the wind blowing through their hair and clothes as they flew. The City of Starlight sprawled out beneath them, a beautiful tapestry of color and light. Azriel held her close, feeling the warmth of her body against his, the sound of her heartbeat pulsing in rhythm with his own. He knew that he could never tire of this feeling, of having her in his arms like this.
Sky looked up at him with a smile, her eyes shining with happiness and excitement. "I love this," she breathed.
How very fitting it was for the female that called herself Sky to love flying.
"Good," Azriel said softly, his voice full of warmth. "Because we can do this anytime you want, sweetheart."
They soared higher and higher, until the city below them was nothing but a sparkling sea of lights. Azriel was in his element up here, his wings powerful and graceful as they sliced through the air. He could feel the wind whipping through his hair, the cold night air stinging his skin. But he didn't mind, not with her in his arms. In fact, he felt more alive than he had in months. Years, even.
He flew a loping circle over Velaris, towards the Lake House the shadows had purchased and he thanked them mentally for their foresight. He couldn't very well bring Sky home to the House of Wind...but here...he could take her. It was private and safe...and if the expression of her face was anything to go by, she loved it.
He angled his body towards the Lake House, gliding towards it with expert precision. As they approached, Azriel saw the soft glow of the lights in the windows, the gentle sway of the curtains in the breeze. The lake glittered in the moonlight, the surface of the water undisturbed and serene. It was the perfect place to bring her, a place that he felt she would love just as much as he did.
"You live here?" she wondered, wonder in her voice as she took in the sight.
Azriel felt a warm swell of pride in his chest as he landed smoothly on the deck of the house. "Yes," he said simply, his eyes fixed on her face, watching as she marveled at the house. "I wanted a private place," he admitted. "Somewhere quiet and peaceful, where I could escape from the chaos of my life for a little while.I haven't been there long though, it’s still a work in progress…" he warned her. More like 2 hours before he had met her. "But I love it."
He set her down gently, his hands lingering on her waist for a moment before he stepped back. "Come on," he said softly, holding out his hand to her. "Let me show you inside."
The shadows skittered inside as soon as he opened the door, like a bunch of little busybodies, rightening the curtains there, fluffing pillows on the couch...It seemed to amuse Sky though. "You must ne...never have to deal with a mes...messy kitchen," she teased him
Azriel chuckled at that. "No, the shadows don't like when things are out of place,”  he admitted.
It wasn't a lie. But then he didn't like it either. 
Like a moth pulled to the flame, Sky was pulled towards his bookcases, fingertips tripping over the spines as she hungrily read the titles.
Azriel suddenly hoped that the shadows had put something other than Sellyn Drake novels in the bookcase, because otherwise he was going to look like a fucking stalker.
He watched with a mix of amusement and apprehension as she examined the bookshelves, his heart pounding in his chest. *Please,* he silently pleaded to the shadows, *please tell me you didn't leave those Sellyn Drake novels on the shelf.* Because if she saw those, it would be disastrous.
The shadows seemed weirdly frozen in place.
"You read Sel...Sellyn Drake?" Sky asked him, sounding delighted and shocked at the same time.
Azriel groaned inwardly, feeling his face flush with embarrassment. "I...yes, I do," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I...There is...I...I need to tell you something."
"Te...Tell me som...something?" Sky asked, turning towards him, these big beautiful eyes staring at him.
"I...It wasn't a coincidence that I was in that bar tonight," he told her, watching as she stared at him. "The shadows told me to go."
"The...The shad...shadows?" she asked him, looking utterly shocked.
"I...I told them...a few weeks ago...to...find me somebody that....that I could love...somebody that I could make happy. A wife," Azriel admitted. "You were the one they picked."
She stared at him, her mouth falling open slightly. Azriel braced himself for her reaction, not sure what to expect. Would she be angry? Scandalized? Horrified that he had sent his shadows to find him a wife?
She stared at him wide-eyed. "You...You as…asked yo…your sha..shadows to fi…find you a wi…wife?!" she asked him, repeating his words back at him.
He could feel his cheeks reddening but nodded nonetheless. "...are you angry?" he asked her weakly.
Sky stared at him for a moment, but then she shook her head. "No, No...no, I'm not," she repeated again, her voice trembling slightly. "I'm...I'm flat…flattered, actually...Though...though I am cu..curious what it…what it was about me that...made…made them pick me," she admitted.
For the first time in his life, his shadows talked to somebody other than Azriel. *We thought you would treat Master like you treat your cat,* the shadows told her brightly.
She blinked at the bunch of shadows that had gathered in front of her.
"You...You...You want me to...treat Az..Azriel like...like a cat?" she asked them incrediously.
Azriel spluttered, his cheeks burning with mortification. He hadn't expected the shadows to be so blunt, and the idea of her treating him like a cat was...well, it was absurd, to say the least. He wanted her to be his mate, his equal, not to treat him as if he were some kind of pet.
"No, no," he quickly interjected, trying to salvage the situation. "They...they don't mean it like that, Sky. The shadows have their own...unique way of looking at things. Please just...just forget they ever said that."
Sky fixed him with a look. "What do you mean?" she asked the shadows.
*You love your cat,* the shadows said quickly. *You buy him ridiculous overpriced Tuna, and you let him sleep in your bed and you scratch him behind the ears. You even knitted him a sweater!*
Azriel winced, feeling his embarrassment and mortification rising even further. 
"That...thats not important," he mumbled, feeling like he was on the verge of spontaneously combusting from embarrassment. "The shadows...they have a habit of exaggerating things. Just...please, don't take them too seriously. I'm not expecting you to treat me like a cat, I swear."
Sky looked at him, then at the Shadows, then at Azriel again. She seemed to be lost in thought, clearly trying to decipher what the shadows meant.
"You..You want your mas…master to be tre…treated...well?" Sky finally asked the shadows, her tone of voice serious. "You pick…picked me because I...be..because I was nice to my cat?" she asked them curiously.
*You are so kind,* the shadows said softly. And so pretty. And we knew you would treat Master well and wouldn't judge him.*
Sky blushed at the compliment.
Azriel felt a sense of relief wash over him as the conversation shifted away from the whole "cat" thing. He had to admit, the shadows were right. Sky had been nothing but kind and considerate towards him since they met, and he was grateful for that. Still, he couldn't help but feel a bit embarrassed by the whole situation.
"Look...I apologize for the shadows' behavior," he said to Sky, his voice soft. "They can be a bit...blunt, sometimes."
"I…I un…understand where they are com…coming from," she said nearly thoughtfully. "They just...want to see you hap…happy?" she said carefully and he nodded.
"Yes."
"Though they…they don't seem to have much of a sense of boun…boundaries," Sky said with a laugh. "You hid in my apartment didn't you?" she asked the shadows.
Azriel cringed as the shadows seemed to twirl in agreement. He had hoped that particular detail would have gone unnoticed, but he should have known better. Sky was too observant for her own good.
"Yes, they did," he admitted reluctantly. "I'm sorry about that. They...they have a tendency to go where they please."
Sky still mustered the shadows that were twitching in front of her
"I…I prom…promise to t…treat your ma…master well." Sky said seriously. "He's my mate."
Azriel felt his heart skip a beat at her words. The sound of that word coming from her lips made his knees weak.
He stepped forward, closing the distance between them and taking her hands in his. "And I promise to treat you well too," he swore fervently. 
"And I'll…I’ll even knit him a swea…sweater," Sky continued, looking at the shadows.. "I…I don't know if he likes Tu…tuna, but I'll…buy him some… sweets."
He couldn’t help but laugh at her words, feeling a surge of affection for her that was almost overwhelming. "Sky," he said softly, looking into her eyes. "You don't have to do any of that for me. Just being with you is more than I could ever ask for.But...if you are willing to knit me a sweater, I surely won't say no to it," he added with a laugh. "And maybe you could try scratching me behind the ears too, just in case the shadows are right."
He meant it as a joke, but there was a part of him that was secretly delighted by the idea of her spoiling and doting on him. Maybe, just maybe, the shadows were onto something after all.
"And...who knows, maybe I'll develop a taste for Tuna," he added, grinning playfully. "As long as it's the fancy kind, that is."
He kissed her forehead gently, holding her close for a moment longer before finally pulling away. "But Sky…you don’t have to do all of that…Just being with you is enough."
She smiled up at him, beautiful and blinding and he couldn't help but kiss her.
As his lips met hers, Azriel felt a wave of warmth and tenderness wash over him. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as he deepened the kiss. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the shadows, not the world outside, nothing but her.
He broke the kiss reluctantly, resting his forehead against hers as he caught his breath. 
"You…You can absolutely sleep in my bed with me," she whispered. "Or I'll sleep in yours," she offered, a grin on her face... and that was all he needed to hear, as he picked her up again.
437 notes · View notes
mrmeowski · 3 days ago
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˚✧𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐈…?✧˚
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Synopsis: Curiosity often pushes us to seek answers to the unknown, but sometimes, those simple questions lead you down unexpected paths. What seems innocent at first can stir deeper emotions, and what’s shared may reveal more than anticipated. The question is, are you ready for them?
CW: Slight angst [Boothill], slight 2.5 spoilers [Jiaoqiu], suggestive
Word Count: 5.5k
Characters: 🧡༻✧ Blade [668] 💜༻✧ Boothill [627] 🧡༻✧ Dan Heng • IL [628] 💜༻✧ Dr. Ratio [880] 🧡༻✧ Jiaoqiu [776] 💜༻✧ Jing Yuan [993] 🧡༻✧ Sunday [935]
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⋇⊰BLADE⊱⋇
"Can I… help you with the bandages, Yingxing?" His eyes shift toward you, a flicker of irritation crossing his gaze as he starts unwinding the bindings on his arm.
You stand in the doorway, watching him. He sits silently on the edge of the bed, half-turned toward the wall, his top discarded. Shadows play across his scarred skin, deep lines from past battles marring his form, history of his trials and rebirths.
To anyone else, this sight of him unguarded would be fleeting, barely a moment before he'd forcefully shut them out. But you aren't just anyone, and for you, he’s left the door ajar, though he denies it.
"I’ve told you not to call me that." His words are gruff, but they lack the bite he'd have with anyone else.
Ignoring his protest, you step inside, letting the door slide shut behind you as you settle beside him on the bed. The mattress dips slightly under your weight, and he tenses, though he doesn’t move away.
"So I take that as a yes?" A playful smile tugging at your lips as you leaned your head on his shoulder.
He huffs but doesn’t pull his arm back.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” he mutters.
Feigning a pout, you slipped your arms around his waist, feeling the subtle hitch in his breath as your hands brushed over his skin.
"Oh, come on," you teased, nudging him gently. "Can't I care for my dear husband?" For a moment, he was silent, his jaw clenched as he stared at his hands, as if trying to decide whether to give in.
With a reluctant sigh, he handed you the bandages, though his voice still held a touch of exasperation.
"Fine. But make it quick." With a smile, you took the roll from his hand, your fingers brushing against his for a brief moment longer than necessary.
His warmth radiated under your touch, and as you began to carefully wrap the bandages over his scars, your movements were gentle, almost reverent, tracing the lines of his past with a tenderness only you could offer him.
"You know," you murmured, "You don't have to do everything alone." He tensed, his gaze flicking to you.
"I don't need help," he said, but his tone had softened significantly.
You only smiled, pressing lightly on his shoulder to make him hold still.
"Maybe not," you replied, "But that doesn’t mean you can’t let me help anyway." A rare softness flickered in his eyes, and for a brief moment, he let himself lean into your touch.
Silence settled between you, a comfortable, unspoken understanding. And as you continued your work, you could feel his heartbeat—a steady rhythm beneath layers of pain, guarded by walls he let no one else cross.
When the last bandage was secure, you paused, fingers lingering on his skin.
"See?" You grinned proudly. "Not so hard to let someone in every now and then., hm?"
He huffed, turning his gaze away to hide the faint blush that crept onto his cheeks. But he couldn't deny his heart any longer, nor the warmth that had stirred within him since you'd come into his life.
Taking a breath, he lifted his hand, the wedding ring that decorated his finger gleamed faintly in the soft light of his room—a reminder of the promise you’d both made, binding him to you more deeply than any scars ever could.
His hand found its way to your cheek, rough and calloused from battle, yet gentle as it cupped your face. You leaned into his touch. There was a vulnerability in his gaze that is only known to you. Slowly, he leaned closer, his lips capturing yours in a tender, lingering kiss that spoke more than words ever could.
You melted into his embrace, responding to the quiet passion he’d held back for so long.
Between breaths, his lips hovered close to yours, and in a whisper that trembled with sincerity, he said, “Thank you… for staying by my side all this time.”
⋇⊰BOOTHILL⊱⋇
"Can I... wear your hat?" You asked, unable to keep the curiosity out of your voice.
You knew what they said, curiosity killed the cat, but really, it was just a cowboy hat, right?
You’d seen him without it on a few rare occasions, but never anyone else wearing it. Boothill was... particular about that hat—almost as if it was an extension of himself.
So when you found yourself sitting close to him on the old, worn sofa, his metal arm resting around your shoulders and pulling you in just a bit closer, the question slipped out before you could stop yourself.
For a moment, he was silent. You could see the faintest trace of color rise to his cheeks, darkening his usual calm expression with a blush you’d never quite seen before.
He chuckled, his hand reaching over to tousle your hair playfully, “Well now, darlin’,” he drawled, an easy grin spreading across his face, sharp teeth glistening, “What’s got ya so interested in this ol’ thing, huh? Don’t tell me you’ve gone and developed a taste for a dusty cowboy hat...” You rolled your eyes, fighting the smile that tugged at your lips.
“Oh, come on, I just want to see what all the fuss is about. It’s not like it’ll bite.” He tilted his head, watching you with a mix of amusement and something softer, almost hesitant.
“Ain't no ordinary hat, ya know," he muttered, that faint blush deepening as he looked away for a moment, “But if ya really wanna wear it... who am I to say no to a pretty thing like you?”
You watched as his hand came up slowly, taking the hat from his head. He held it for a moment, as though second-guessing himself, then handed it to you with an almost reverent care. The weight of it settled in your hands, and as you gingerly placed it on your head, his gaze lingered on you, his eyes softening.
“There,” he murmured, his tone lower, “Looks like you’re all set to join the rodeo now.” You laughed, adjusting the brim so it sat just right, feeling a rush of warmth at the way he was looking at you, like you’d just stepped right into his heart.
He shook his head, grinning as he leaned back, his arm still around your shoulders. “Enjoy every second now, sugar—ain’t every day I let someone else wear that ol’ hat of mine.” You turned to face him, feeling bold, your gaze meeting his.
“Guess that means you trust me, huh?” He chuckled again, that easy, lazy grin spreading across his face as he looked back at you with a glint in his eye.
“Trust, interest… somethin’ like that.” Pulling you in a little closer. His fingers trailed down your cheek, slow and lingering, as he let his thumb trace along your jaw. “Just means you might be in for a bit of trouble now,” he whispered, his voice low and warm, his gaze flickering to your lips.
The brim of his hat dipped, casting a shadow over your faces, and you felt his lips brush against yours. The kiss was gentle at first, but quickly deepened as his sharp teeth grazed your lower lip, pulling at it in a way that made your heart race.
Deep within something weighed heavy in his chest—a deep, unspoken grief that seemed to tug at the very core of him. The moment you wore that hat of his... it reminded him of her, of a time long ago, when he was still human, when he had something to protect—someone to care for. His daughter. The one he had lost, the one he would never get back.
His heart, once broken, was mended only by one thing: you. He pulled away slightly, his lips hovering just above yours, his breath ragged.
"I ain't the man I once was... but I’ll protect you, darlin'. With my life, even if it goes against everythin' I ever knew. As long as it's you... I'll do it."
⋇⊰DAN HENG • IL⊱⋇
“Can I… touch your horns?" Your voice barely above a whisper.
The very moment Dan Heng shed his human form to reveal the graceful, imposing figure of Imbibitor Lunae, an undeniable curiosity had settled within you. Those glowing horns, the soft fur trailing along his tail—they all seemed to call to you, sparking a fascination that you just couldn't ignore.
He glanced up from his book, his calm demeanor briefly faltering as a faint blush colored his pale cheeks.
“Excuse me?” His tone was guarded, but you could see the faint flicker of surprise in his eyes.
It was as if he needed you to repeat it, to confirm you’d actually asked what he thought you did.
You had always urged him to embrace his true Vidyadhara form. At first, he resisted, but your persistence wore down his resolve. Eventually, he relented, but only within the privacy of his quarters or the quiet of an empty Astral Express.
“You heard me,” you said, inching a little closer, fingers itching to reach out. “I just… wonder what they feel like.” Your gaze drifted to his horns, mesmerized by the gentle glow that radiated from them, casting a warm light across his features.
For a moment, he looked away, his shoulders tense. “It’s not... something I’m accustomed to,” he murmured, his voice low. His gaze returned to you, a quiet understanding in his eyes. "But… I-I suppose I can allow it."
He leaned down, bringing his face closer to yours, giving you an unspoken invitation.
With a him, you raised your hand, reaching out to trace the gleaming, curved horns that adorned his head. The moment your fingertips brushed against their smooth surface, he inhaled sharply, and a low, involuntary growl escaped his lips.
His book snapped shut in his hand, and his whole body seemed to shiver from the contact, the sensation reverberating through him. Surprised, you flinched, your fingers halting as you pulled back.
“A-Are you alri—”
He let out a strained sigh, his hand darting forward to gently capture yours and place it back on his horns, “Why’d you stop?” His voice was rough, with a hunger you’d rarely heard from him.
Wait... is he purring? Half-lidded, his gaze locked onto you, eyes softened by the warmth that has always there when you're around.
His horns weren't usually so sensitive to the touch, but perhaps it was because it was you—the one person who had grown so close to him, the one person he felt tethered to in a way he couldn't fully explain. His body seemed to respond to even the slightest touch, and the very air you breathed seemed to send him spiraling.
As you resumed tracing his horns, the low rumble of a purr rose in his chest, almost too soft to catch. You blinked, your breath catching as you noticed his tail slowly curling and swaying behind him, giving away his pleasure. The purr deepened, reverberating through him as he leaned into your touch, his control slipping.
And then, before you could react, he pushed you deeper into mattress of his bed. You felt his chest press against yours, his tail curling possessively around your waist, pulling you closer as he buried his face against the side of your cheek, his purr vibrating against your skin.
He brushed his nose along your cheek, purring with an intensity that left no doubt about his feelings. You felt his heartbeat echoing in rhythm with yours, and his arms encircled you.
There was no mistaking it now. He knew the moment you stepped foot into the Astral Express, the moment you entered his life.
His head rested against yours, the glow of his horns casting a soft light between you, whispering into your ear, “You’re mine...”
⋇⊰DR. RATIO⊱⋇
“Can I... touch your arm?” The words slipped out before you could even process them, and by the time you realized, it was too late.
You were constantly drawn to the unknown, to things that fascinated you—and today, Dr. Ratio’s arm, the one exposed by his rather bold style of clothing, had caught your attention.
You could feel eyes shifting to you, a mix of shocked and bewildered looks coming from the students surrounding you both. Among them, you could practically feel his sharp, glaring stare boring into your skull.
He sighed, clearly irritated, before passing the clipboard he held to one of the astonished students. He grumbled something under his breath, clearly struggling to keep his composure.
“Excuse us for a moment… continue with your project,” he ordered through gritted teeth.
Before you could react, he had his arm around your shoulder, guiding you swiftly out of the room and into a quiet, secluded hallway.
Once out of earshot, he released you, crossing his arms and fixing you with a stern, no-nonsense glare.
“Do you realize the kind of attention you’re attracting with those questions?” His brow arched.
You gave him a sheepish grin, scratching the back of your neck as you looked away.
“I didn’t mean for it to slip out,” you admitted, your voice light. “At least… not in front of everyone. But really, it’s tempting.” You glanced back at him, letting the playful curiosity seep back into your gaze.
He sighed, shaking his head slightly as he studied you.
“I can never truly understand what goes on in your head, [Name]. Nor how someone like you manages to be one of the best researchers here,” he muttered, sounding exasperated but almost... begrudgingly impressed. “You were always like this, even back when we were students.”
It was true. Back then, you’d always ranked either at the very top or just below him, your carefree demeanor had led him to believe you didn’t take anything seriously. You had an uncanny ability to get under his skin, and no amount of stern lectures ever seemed to change that.
“Don’t judge a book by its cover, right?” You shrugged, clicking your tongue playfully, adding, “So, is that a yes or a no?” He gave you a hard stare, brow furrowed.
“You’re serious about that?” His frown deepened, and for a moment, he seemed genuinely perplexed.
You were a puzzle he could never quite solve—a Rubik’s cube with infinitely shifting sides, always challenging, always just out of reach.With a heavy sigh, he finally relented, unfolding his arms and extending one toward you.
“Fine,” he said, his voice resigned. “If this will put an end to your pestering, then go ahead.”
You couldn’t hide your delight as you grinned and reached out, fingertips brushing against the firm curve of his arm.
The instant your touch met his skin, a subtle shiver that ran through him, though he tried his best to keep his expression steady. His poker face remained composed, yet you sensed the faintest twitch in his jaw.
Every time you were near, there was this unexplainable spark between you, something that always lingered just beneath the surface.
He’d told himself countless times that he kept it well-hidden, convinced that his practiced, stoic mask shielded him from your perceptive gaze. But there were whispers—others had noticed how he’d look at you, and sometimes he wondered how long he could keep this under wraps. At least, he reassured himself, you hadn’t noticed… yet.
His arm was exactly as it's displayed—defined, solid, with the firmness of something sculpted. As you trailed your fingers along his bicep, you looked up at him, caught in that same sense of wonder you often had when encountering the unknown, that glint in your eyes like a spark of discovery.
He held your gaze, his own expression softening against his will. Somehow, the realization that he could inspire that curiosity in you made something inside him stir—a quiet pride, even if he’d never dare admit it.
“Done?” Arching a brow, though there was something almost gentle in his tone.
You couldn't resist giving his arm a playful squeeze—only for a surprised sound, almost a groan, to slip from him. His cheeks flushed a faint pink as he shot you a glare, yet neither of you moved, frozen in place.
A second passed in that charged silence before you broke it with a shaky laugh.
“A-Ahaha… I-I think that settles it,” you said, flashing an awkward smile as you tried to compose yourself.
He muttered something under his breath, flustered, “This is the last time I’ll indulge any of your whims.” Yet he wasn’t certain he could keep that promise.
“Oh, well, at least I enjoyed my privileges,” you teased, grinning as you attempted to brush past him to rejoin the others.
But before you could slip away, his hand gripped your arm, halting you.
“Since you’ve had your fill… I expect you’ll indulge my curiosities as well,” he murmured, voice low.
You tilted your head, looking up at him, but he didn’t move back. His hand lingered as he traced the curve of your cheek with a feather-light touch, his gaze intent.
“So?” he asked softly, his voice almost a whisper. “Is it a yes or a no?”
⋇⊰JIAOQIU⊱⋇
“Can I… touch your tail?” It was out of the blue to suddenly asked him fot his.
But really, who could blame you? His tail was just there, brushing against your legs with that irresistible fluffiness. It was practically begging to be touched!
Jiaoqiu’s ears perked at your request, and though you couldn’t see his expression entirely, you caught a glimpse of his grin hidden behind his fan. He had been waiting for this, teasing you by letting his tail drift closer until you could no longer resist.
“Oh my, aren’t you bold?” He purred, his tail slowly winding around your waist as he leaned in closer. “You do know it’s quite… rude to ask a Foxian such a thing, hm?” His tone was light, yet playful, and his words left you flustered.
Your face heated up, and you scrambled to apologize, “I-I’m sorry, Jiaoqiu! I didn’t mean to—”
“—For strangers,” he interrupted, his voice soft as his free hand reached out, fingers gently brushing against your cheek. His thumb traced a small circle, grounding you with his touch. “But you… you are no stranger to me.”
His voice was a low whisper now, an invitation that made your heart skip a beat. “Go on… touch it,” he urged, his words making your nerves flutter with a mix of excitement and hesitation.
You hesitated, fingers trembling as they moved closer to the soft, salmon tainted fur. Finally, you brushed your fingertips over his tail, feeling its warmth and softness.
His breath hitched, his fan lowering just enough for you to see his lips part slightly.
Each movements sent a shiver through him, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his ears twitched with your every touch. As your hands roamed deeper into the soft fur of his tail, he didn’t try to hide how much he enjoyed it.
But then again, he never really had been hiding it from the start, had he? It was you who had been oblivious to how he truly felt—how close he had always been to you.
His tail curled further around you, brushing against your body as if drawing you in. It wasn’t just his tail; his scent had already imprinted on you, marking something only the other Foxians could understand.
Even after he was gone, that trace of him stayed with you, lingering on your skin as if to remind others that you belonged to him.
“Feel free to touch me…” His voice was low, inviting, with a grin that never wavered. “I don’t mind.”
Was this what heaven felt like? You wondered, your fingers still lost in the softness of his tail, your heart racing as his words settled in the air between you.
Your gaze drifted to his ears, noticing the faint flush at the tips. You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips at the sight.
Curious, you cautiously reached up, your fingers brushing gently against the soft, white fuzz inside his ears. His reaction was immediate—a slight quiver running through his body as his grin deepened.
“So this…” you murmured, your fingers lingering near the sensitive spot, “Is alright?”
His breath caught again, and he gave a slow nod, allowing you the freedom to explore. “That’s perfectly fine,” he purred, the words dripping with a quiet satisfaction.
He leaned into your touch, his cheek brushing against your arm as you ran your fingers over his ears. A contented purr vibrated through him, but then you felt something... wet?
You froze, confusion flickering across your face as you glanced down. He was nipping at your arm, leaving soft kisses on your skin.
"Jiaoqiu...?" Your heart raced, pounding in your chest as you tried to process what was happening.
He chuckled softly and for a moment, you couldn't tear your gaze away from his eyes. Though his vision was obscured, his golden irises seemed to meet yours through the half-lidded gaze he offered. Even without seeing, there was an unmistakable intensity in the way his eyes stirred with deep and raw emotions.
"When I spoke, you can touch antyhing... I was hoping for something else... [Name]," he whispered, his lips pressing a delicate kiss into your arm again, this time lingering just a fraction longer. "I suppose I need to be a bit more clear, hm?" His tail unwound from around your waist, and the warmth of his hand moved, sliding down from your cheek to gently grasp your hand.
His fingers intertwined with yours, his grip firm yet gentle, his touch holding an unspoken promise. The playful edge in his voice deepened.
"Why don’t we go to your residence, my little bunny?"
⋇⊰JING YUAN⊱⋇
"Can I... pet Snowmoon?" You ask, your gaze fixed on the lion sprawled lazily beside Jing Yuan’s desk.
All the while the general is hunched slightly over the mountain of paperwork. It’s rare to see him actually working, and you’d be lying if you didn’t occasionally wonder if he just pretended to.
Hechuckles, his eyes lifting from the stack of documents as he props his chin on his hand, watching you with that familiar, teasing smile.
“It’s not me you should be asking for permission… that decision lies with her.” He pauses, giving her a fond glance. “You know she has a mind of her own.” You grin, shrugging with a spark of confidence.
“Oh, please—she only acts so aloof because she’s around you,” you tease. “Animals tend to mirror their owners, after all.” He raises a brow, a flicker of amusement in his eyes, though he lets out another soft chuckle, his gaze warm as it lingers on you.
“Fine,” he relents, a playful warning in his voice. “But don’t go running to me if she growls.” You roll your eyes, standing from the sofa and making your way toward the lion.
The first time you met her, you were admittedly a bit nervous—after all, it’s not every day you come face-to-face with a lion—but any hint of fear quickly melted into awe. Her coat is as pristine as freshly fallen snow, her gaze a clear, serene blue like the depths of the ocean.
As you crouch down beside her, you reach out a tentative hand, stopping just before her nose. She sniffs your fingers curiously, then surprises you by licking them before leaning in, her soft fur brushing against your fingertips.
Her fluffy coat is even softer than you imagined, and you can’t resist a small, quiet “Aw” as you scratch the side of her neck. Her eyes half-close, and you feel the gentle vibrations of her purr against your touch.
“See?” You call over your shoulder, unable to hide your grin. “She’s just a big, fluffy kitten.” She leans in closer, enjoying your attention.
He leaning back in his chair with a feigned huff of indifference, “Hmph, don’t get too comfortable now." You can’t help but notice the slight pout in his features as he watches the scene unfold.
She is notorious for growling at him when he tries to get close. And yet here you are, someone who only occasionally visits his office, getting all the affection.
It’s unfair! But there’s also something undeniably heartwarming about it for him. As he watches you, a faint smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. Two of his favorite things, together right before him. If he could freeze this moment, hold onto it, he would.
Time slips by unnoticed as you sit there, nestled against her, your hands combing through her fur. The big kitten has dozed off, her steady breathing and occasional soft purrs filling the quiet room.
You’d intended to move at some point, but every time you lift your hand just an inch away, she lets out a tiny, sleepy whine and nudges closer, demanding more affection. It’s hard to say no to her.
The thought crosses your mind that she really does resemble her owner in some ways. There are rare moments where he gets... needy. Although her insistence on cuddles is much cuter than his endless, persistent begging.
A low, familiar voice pulls you from your thoughts. “I think that’s enough." Arms crossed as he looks down at you, trying to maintain a serious expression.
There’s a slight frown and a hint of jealousy in his gaze. You smirk, raising a brow.
“Oh? I didn’t quite catch that. What was it you said?” You reply, a playful challenge in your tone.
He sighs, running a hand through his hair, and steps closer. “Don’t make me repeat myself, [Name]. I think I’ve given you more than enough time with her.” She stirs, looking up lazily before resettling against you, as if she’s decided you’re staying right where you are.
With a soft chuckle, you glance up at him, “She seems to disagree, General.”
“Well then, I’ll just have to insist." He takes a few steps toward you, but his progress halts when a low, warning growl rumbles from the lion.
He stops in his tracks, momentarily caught off guard, a rare look of surprise flickering across his face.
You chuckle, shaking your head as you tease, “Aw, poor General. Looks like I’m staying here after all—”
Before you can finish, he moves in a flash, sweeping you up in his arms and lifting you away from Snowmoon’s side. His grip is firm, yet gentle, holding you securely against his chest. How can someone who naps so much move with such speed?
She rises and lets out another displeased growl, her tail lashing slightly as she watches you being spirited away from her side. You glance back at him, and it almost feels like a silent battle between a man and his lion.
His arms tighten around you possessively, and he huffs, “[Name] is mine!”
The lion stares for a moment, then flops down with a disgruntled sigh, clearly deciding the effort isn’t worth it.
He chuckles in triumph, settling back in his chair with you still cradled in his lap. Without a moment’s hesitation, he leans in, nuzzling his head against your neck, his warm breath tickling your skin. You shiver, feeling the softness of his hair brushing your cheek.
“Are you actually jealous of her?” you ask, unable to keep the amusement out of your voice.
He pauses, his gaze meeting yours with a glint of playful mischief.
“Jealous? Me?” He lets out a low chuckle, drawing you even closer, his arms tightened around your waist. “Maybe. But can you blame me?” His voice drops to a whisper, lips now close to your ear. “After all, I’d rather be the one keeping you all to myself...”
⋇⊰SUNDAY⊱⋇
“Can I... see your wings, S-Sunday?” you ask, feeling the name catch slightly on your tongue. After all the time you’ve spent calling him ‘My Lord,’ addressing him by name still feels foreign, as if you’re crossing some unspoken line.
His gaze lifts from his desk, and his eyes meet yours, expression unreadable. It's only been a few months since the two of you moved past mere formalities and into something deeper, but sometimes you still feel like a servant asking for a favor rather than a partner making a simple request.
“Pardon?” His tone is calm, yet curious, those small wings behind his ears twitching slightly.
“Your… other wings?” Your voice barely above a whisper. “I-I mean, if it’s alright with you, of course. I wouldn’t want to—” You stop yourself, feeling the awkwardness bubble up, regretting how impulsive your request had been.
He smiles, a faint chuckle escaping his lips as he observes you. “My dear,” he says, his voice soft and soothing, “Never feel shy to ask anything of me.” Slowly, he rises from his desk, each step deliberate as he approaches you. “Whatever you wish, I am yours to command.” There’s a quiet confidence in his steps, his gaze never breaking from yours.
His fingers tilt your chin up slightly, and his eyes soften, lips curling into a smile that always leaves you a little breathless. And as if it were the most natural thing, he shrugs off his coat, draping it neatly on the sofa beside you.
“Uh... w-what are you doing?” You stammer, trying to keep your composure as he slides out of his outer layer with a practiced ease.
“I thought it was clear,” he replies, voice rich with amusement. “You wish to see my wings, yes?” He finishes folding his coat, his gaze never wavering.
In a single, fluid movement, his two hidden pairs of wings unfurl, and you find yourself awestruck at the sight before you. Each feather fades from an ash-blue at the base to a rich midnight hue. That last pair was far darker, the outermost tips tinged in a shadowy, ashen black.
Though darker than expected for a Halovian’s wings, they exude a potent aura—divine, yes, but laced with an undertone of something almost… sinister. It’s mesmerizing and daunting all at once.
As you sit there speechless, he lowers himself onto the edge of the sofa, his thighs bracketing yours, his wings forming a slowly enclosing cocoon around you. His gaze is unwavering, his lips curving into a small, knowing smile.
“Well?” Voice smooth as butter, his eyes glinting with intrigue. “What do you think?”
“T-They’re… beautiful…” You manage to whisper, captivated by the midnight elegance of his wings.
Almost instinctively, you lift a hand, fingertips itching to trace the delicate lines of his feathers, but you hesitate, unsure if your touch would be welcome.
Noticing your hesitation, his expression softens, and he tilts his head slightly.
“Go on,” he says quietly, a hint of amusement in his tone. “Feel free to touch them.” You reach out, hand trembling just slightly, and your fingers make contact with the nearest feather.
It’s softer than you imagined. You let your hand glide down one of the dark feathers, marveling at the subtle gradient of color and the warmth radiating from his wings.
As your fingertips brush against the soft feathers of his wings, a shudder ripple through him. A low sound escapes his lips, and you glance up, a hint of surprise crossing your face. His grip tightens around the cushion behind you, his knuckles whitening as if he could tear it apart at any moment.
You don’t notice the intensity of the effect your touch has on him, too caught up in the sensation of his wings, twirling your fingers around the delicate feathers.
Halovian wings are known to be sensitive, fragile even. But his wings, especially these two pairs that had been hidden away for a long time, are more so.
They’re darker than most, a reflection of the weight of his past actions, and he’s always kept them concealed, ashamed of what they’ve become.
When you asked to see them, a quiet surge of happiness stirred within him. To have someone, someone he holds so dear, ask to see this part of him… It was something he didn’t expect but longed for. And even more, when you found them beautiful, it filled a void in his heart that had been empty for far too long.
"My dear..." His voice drops a few octaves, darker than usual, as he watches you with half-lidded eyes.
You glance up at him, finally noticing the slight hitch in his breath, the flush creeping across his features. A sudden wave of concern floods you, and you start to open your mouth to ask if you’ve hurt him in any way.
But before you can speak, he leans in, his lips crashing onto yours in a kiss that is anything but gentle. His hands move to cradle your face, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens, his wings fluttering slightly
You’ve always known Sunday to be a gentleman, always composed, always polite. But you had also know that there’s a side of him that’s far more… chaotic. His kiss is desperate, hungry, as though he’s been holding back for too long.
The moment his lips part, the air around you seems to grow thicker, charged with an unspoken tension. His breath, warm and steady, brushes against your skin as his voice, barely a whisper, slips from his mouth.
"My dear... do you wish to see something more.. pleasing?"
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