#she’s saying with that: it’s ok. you’re ok. you’re here. I’m here. I love you and I’m not going anywhere

[scorpiosbite]

actress!reader x drew starkey social media au

࣪˖ ִ𐙚 ────୨ৎ──── what you got up to, your first week in LA through social media.

𝜗𝜚 pairing: actress!reader x drew starkey

author’s note: these posts were made during actress!reader’s first trip to LA, so around august 2024 at this point of actress!reader and drew’s relationship timeline, they’ve hooked up once and went on a date together. actress!reader is going to remain in LA for the time being to film her new movie ‘anora’.

yourusername

liked by drewstarkey, madelyncline, bellahadid and others

yourusername swore i’d never like LA… still don’t, fucking love the people tho

view all comments

madelyncline second pic of us omg, we’re so sexy

yourusername come sit on my face

tayrussell damn you’re so hot

yourusername bending over rn

mimikeene i miss you bby come back to london

yourusername i miss you more wifey

alexademie mother

yourusername mwah baby

bellahadid y/n active era? we prayed for times like this!!

yourusername no promises baby

kendalljenner body so tea it’s insane

yourusername says you babes

y/nstitties HOLD ON Y/N HANGING OUT WITH MADELYN DOES THIS MEAN SHES MET THE REST OF THE CAST??!???

targaryenstan yea, paps got pic of her and obx cast at a club

rafeswhore DREW IN THE LIKES I REPEAT DREW IN THE LIKES

y/nsno1fan HE NEVER LIKES PEOPLE’S POSTS, I SHIP!!!

sitonmyfacey/n i’m beating my shit to this rn

sitonmyfacey/n just came, 10/10 nut

ilovey/n she’s so mommy, but so daddy

visenyasdragon FUCK SHES ACTUALLY POSTING!!!!

drewsballsack DREW IF YOU SEE THIS HOP ON THAT MAN!!!! SHE SO FINE #NEEDTHAT

tmz

tmz Y/n L/n and Madelyn Cline seen arriving at an downtown LA club this past weekend, the two stars were seen partying with the rest of the Outer Banks cast, with the Game of Thrones star seen getting hot and heavy while dancing with a particular man.

view all comments

y/nvisenyatarg WHO????! WAS IT DREW?!? PLEASE PLEASE LET IT BE DREW!!!

starkeystan OMG PLEASE YES I SHIP SO HARD!!

y/nismother WAIT WAS IT DREW??!! cause i’ve been shipping them ever since maddie said in that interview that she made the cast watch GOT and drew blushed when she mentioned y/n and they way they both say their honoured when complimented is soulmate shit

y/nsspinetat I SAW PEOPLE TALKING ABOUT THAT ON TT

daddyy/n my friend was at the club it was drew

y/nismother HOLY SHIT

daddyy/n yea, they were grinding and apparently left together

y/nsspinetat NO HE STOLE MY GIRL!!!!

y/nnews

y/nnews Y/n will be living in LA for the next few months while she films her new movie “Anora” by director Sean Baker, the film rights have been purchased by A24

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y/natoenails damn i’m so proud of her

randomuser she fucking killed it on the first season of GOT, can’t believe that was her first acting gig, im so excited to see her do this film

y/nfan what’s her character like in this?

y/nmylove shes a stripper

y/nfan oh im gonna flood that theatre

TAGLIST: @sunnybunnyy2 @percysley @wearemadeofstardust0 @idgasb @pinkpantheris @emmaaas-posts @grace-sully

ok, here's the first instalment of the social media au of actress!reader x drew starkey enjoy and let me know what you think!!!

[bqstqnbruin]

Friendsgiving

Hi so we are going to ignore the fact that it is nearly 2 am but here I am with a fic that I started today because of this tik tok that I saw a few hours ago and I immediately went 'fic'. So, here we are

Warnings: none

WC: 5845

Enjoy!

__________________________________________

“Why and how are you in Vancouver?” 

“Don’t hate me.”

“Oh, my god, did you move to Canada without me? You moved and didn’t even tell me.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at what you hoped was Lena’s unnecessary panic that you heard through your phone speaker, trying to navigate your way through the airport that you had never been to before. “No, I’m just probably doing something stupid.” 

“And you’re doing it without me?”

“Leen, I’ll catch you up later, ok?”

“Am I going to have to make sure you don’t end up in a ditch?”

“You should probably watch my location for the next few days,” you say, in all seriousness. “But I have to go, I love you, bye.”

You hang up on your best friend as you hear her screaming on the other end about calling the authorities, knowing that she wouldn’t actually do that. Actually, she might. But you can’t think about that right now.

You were trying to find Brock, despite the fact that you had never met him in person and stupidly agreed to fly to Vancouver on a day's notice from your home the week of Thanksgiving. 

You couldn’t believe the last couple of days of your life. You had posted a silly photo of you and your friends at your annual Friendsgiving. You always got together the Friday before, and had been doing so since middle school when your parents still had to either make the food for you, or had to be in the kitchen with you heavily supervising the entire time. This year was the 15th year in a row that you had all gotten together, celebrating in a much bigger fashion than you had in years past; you all dressed up, you all brought the food in the best serving dishes you had instead of the Dollar Tree tin dishes you all normally brought, you had the fanciest bottles of wine you could afford littering the table, and you had even all planned to stay over together for the first time, continuing the event into the morning. 

Brock had messaged you because of the photo. You were mutuals, having some of the same friends in college but never actually interacted with each other. 

All of your friends talked about how you two would get along so well, but it seemed like every time you were supposed to meet, something happened that prevented you from doing so. There was the one party you were supposed to go to with your friends, that you had been planning on going to all week until you got food poisoning from the dining hall. There was the class you were supposed to take together until his practice times got changed and ended up conflicting with the class. You were supposed to go to a formal together as each other's dates until he slept through his alarm and missed the bus to the venue.

You were always supposed to meet, until you didn’t.

But then you got the message from him a few days ago asking if you wanted to come to his Friendsgiving that he was going to with his American teammates. 

It was easily the craziest thing you had done in your life, saying yes to flying out to Vancouver the next day to meet a guy you had never actually met in person, or really talked to before those messages.

It made you realize you really hadn’t done much with your life. 

You walked through the airport, trying to see if you could find the guy you would be spending the next couple of days with by the baggage claim where he told you he would meet you. 

You finally see him, the blonde head of hair sticking out to you for an unknown reason. 

You knew from his pictures on his account that he was attractive, but, shit, he was gorgeous in person. 

He was also dressed up way more than he should be for someone to be waiting for a stranger in an airport; he was in a full suit and tie, his hair looking like he had just gotten out of the shower and styled it immediately. 

“Hi,” he says to you when he sees you, a smile on his face making your heart skip a beat. 

You didn’t even know this guy. “Hi,” you manage to get out as he pulls you in for a hug. “You look good, all dressed up.” 

Brock reaches for your bag, taking it off your shoulder and walking you out of the airport. “Thanks.”

“Why are you dressed up?”

“We’re on our way to the game.”

“We?”

“I didn’t tell you?”

“Do I look like I’m dressed for a hockey game?”

Brock looks at you as the two of you approach his car, opening his trunk to put your bag in. “You look great to me.”

“I’m in sweats, fresh off a plane. When do you think you told me?”

“Uh,” he lets out as you get in his car. “Yesterday?”

You take out your phone, scrolling through the messages the two of you exchanged. “You told me you had a game, not that I was going to one.” 

“Who did I tell that to yesterday?” he says, staring out through his front windshield, wracking his brain. You couldn’t help but laugh. “I can take you back to my place, if you want.”

“Would that make you late for the game?”

He glances at the clock, pulling out his phone. “Very late, yes.” 

You roll your eyes, fighting back a smile that you couldn’t help. “I’ll go to the game. I’m sure I have something I can change into stuffed in my bag.” 

The two of you fall into easy conversation, much like you had when he first reached out to you. There was something about him that was easy to talk to. 

He pulls up to the arena, still talking about one of the parties you were both supposed to go to in college.

“Do you remember that one kid, Chris, who somehow threw up at every party he went to?” he asks you, leaning against his car as you rifle through your bag in his trunk, searching for any semblance of an outfit that was better than the sweats you were currently in.  

“Hold on,” you tell him, climbing into the trunk and pulling the hatch closed, trying your best to change in the cramped space. You managed to find jeans and a black shirt that could pass as a non-airport outfit that you were smart enough to pack as a spare since Brock didn’t really give you a ton of information as to how the week was going to go. You could see him standing outside the car, dumbfounded by the abrupt nature of you practically commandeering his car as a changing room for yourself. “Ok, I’m good,” you say, opening the door back up in what you were sure was record time for changing in a car trunk.

“Wow,” he says, you noticing the slightest shade of red appearing on his cheeks. 

“Better?” you ask. Your foot catches on part of the trunk as you try to get out, practically falling out of his car. 

You feel Brock’s hands catch you, spreading across your back and under your legs. “Much,” he says, his face inches from yours. He clears his throat, his face turning bright red as he puts you down.

He wasn’t about to kiss you, was he? And why would you have been ok if he did that? “Thanks for that,” you tell him, embarrassment seeping into your voice. 

“So, uh, Chris?” he asks, walking you into the arena with his hands now firming shoved into his pockets.

“He really did somehow end up in the bathroom at every party.”

“Even if he didn’t have anything to drink that night.” 

“I wonder what he’s up to now?”

“He just got engaged, actually,” you tell him. “His fiance was one of my lab partners back in college.” 

“Wow. Never would have known that,” he tells you. The two of you walk through what you could only describe as the tunnels of the arena, Brock showing you around and trying to explain to you what everything was. 

“You’re gonna be in here,” he tells you, showing to a room that was filled with women and children who all seemed to know each other. Before you can ask anything, he checks his watch, his eyes practically bugging out of his head. “Shit, I’ve gotta get ready. I’ll meet you right here after the game.” 

Brock runs off, leaving you standing at the entrance to this room that you could see was at ice level, filled with people you didn’t know. 

You couldn’t enter the room. This was already ridiculous, you being here in the first place with a guy you just met for the first time in person less than an hour before. Now you were apparently supposed to go into this room with a bunch of people and do what? Talk to them? 

No thank you.

You feel your phone vibrating in your pocket, leaning against the wall next to the entrance of this room as Lena calls you again. “Ok, you did not fly all the way to Vancouver to see a Canucks game.”

“I’m going to stop sharing my location with you,” you laugh.

“Ok, spill, why the hell are you in Vancouver?”

You recount the whole string of events to her, realizing how ridiculous the whole situation sounded now that you were actually verbally articulating everything. “And now, I’m outside of this room with a bunch of women and I think this is where I’m supposed to be for the rest of the game.”

“Are you in the WAG room?”

“The what?”

“The WAG room.”

“No, I heard you,” you sigh, “What does that mean?”

“The wives and girlfriends.”

You stare at the wall on the other side of the hallway as people you ignored scurried around you. “But I’m not a wife or a girlfriend?”

“Well, as long as you have that established. I heard there’s supposed to be amazing food in those rooms for the families.” 

You peek your head into the room, seeing a line of the women forming on the other side of the room in front of what looked like an incredible spread of food. “I can see that.”

“Go in!” Lena shrieks in your ear. “Have fun, make friends, and bring me some food when you get back.” She hangs up before you can say anything else, leaving you there with your phone pressed against your ear and no one on the other end of the call. 

You finally work up the courage to go into the room, trying to slip in and stay in the back, out of the way of anyone who would feel the need to come to talk to you. You stay along the wall closest to the door, trying to take in the room around you. There were children seemingly everywhere, running and shrieking as they played with each other. Toys were scattered all over the floor, bags lined against the wall. You probably looked like a freak the way you were moving through the room, trying to find a seat that you could sink into and become invisible in.

“Shit,” you let out, slamming down onto the floor, tripping over one of the toys you were somehow too busy to notice. 

“Are you ok?” one of the women asks you, crouching down on the floor to meet you at what was now, embarrassingly, eye level. 

You could feel your face getting hot. “Other than my ego being bruised, I think I’m good.” 

“I haven’t seen you before,” she says to you. “I’m Lexie. I’m Thatcher’s wife.”

You had no idea who Thatcher was, but it probably wouldn’t look good for you if you admitted that. 

You introduce yourself, finally getting up off the floor and dusting yourself off. “I’m here with Brock.”

Lexie’s eyes light up with excitement. “You must be Brock’s mystery girl.” The room seems to go silent when Lexie practically shrieks that, even the children making no noise. “He had been telling us he was seeing someone, but we never thought he would bring you to a game early.”

“Oh, I,” you start, getting nervous now that all eyes were on you. You had no idea what he had told these women, or their husbands, or boyfriends, or whoever these people were. “Here I am.”

“I can’t believe Brock would just throw you to the wolves like this,” Lexie says, linking her arm with yours and walking you over to the food table.

“Are you kidding?” another one of the women chimes in. “This is exactly something Brock would do. I’m Natalie, by the way, J.T.’s wife.”

The two women start chatting your ear off, you unable to comprehend what they were saying. Brock had a ‘mystery girl,’ that you had now taken on the identity of. Brock was probably seeing someone who couldn’t be there this week and now he was going to look like an awful human when you suddenly disappeared and were replaced with another person next week. 

But, why did you care? You barely knew Brock.

You had no idea how much time passed by when they all start filtering out the seats near the ice, the players skating around in circles. 

You join them, unsure what else to do. You pull out your phone, getting an idea and starting to type in a new note, trying to wave Brock over to the boards when you finally get his attention.

They think I’m your ‘mystery girl??? you show him with your phone screen pressed against the glass when he comes over. The color seems to drain from his face, mouthing ‘I’m sorry,’ and shrugging way too casually for your liking before practically sprinting away from you to the other side of the rink. 

You head back into the room, beelining for the exit and pulling up Lena’s number.

“Brock told everyone he and I are dating?” you try not to scream too loudly, hoping that none of the people in the room or in the hallway 

“Oh,” Lena says. “That’s not great.”

“Not great?” you say, running your hand through your hair, feeling yourself panic. “This is crazy. What if this turns into a psycho killer situation?’

“He’s way too high profile in the area to get away with killing you.”

“That’s not reassuring.” 

“I’m just saying he wouldn’t get away with it.”

“Adelena,” you stomp your foot like a child out of frustration, using your friend's full name.

“Ok, calm down,” she says. “There’s no need for the government name here. I think you just need to talk to him after the game and figure out what’s going on. I will fly out there and save you if I have to.” 

You take in a deep breath. This was the dumbest thing you could have done, regret seeping into you with every passing moment that you spent in Vancouver. “I’ll let you know.” You go back in the room, trying to pay attention to the game as the people around you milled about, trying to get to know you and about your ‘relationship’ with Brock.

“How long have you two been going out?” Lexie asks eagerly. 

“Um,” you panic, “Not that long, honestly. This is all really new.” That wasn’t a total lie.

“How did you two even meet?”

“We went to college together.” 

Before Lexie could ask you another question that you probably didn’t have an answer to, a toddler runs up to her, crying. “Gotta go,” she says to you, lifting the toddler and trying to comfort them. 

You sat and tried to watch the rest of the game, writing down everything you told Lexie in hopes that Brock would have said something similar. You spent the rest of the game on your phone texting with Lena, thankful that no one else in the room came up to you to talk to you or ask questions the way Lexie had, only going back to the ice and looking up from your screen to see Brock scoring.

You wait outside the room for Brock once the game was over, his teammates coming out much faster than he was as the hallway and the room behind you slowly emptied out, leaving you alone in the hallway. 

“What the fuck,” you ask him when you finally see him. 

“I’m sorry, I know,” he tells you, walking out to his car. 

“I don’t care if you need me to pretend to date you, but I would have liked to know about it before you threw me into the Gossip Grotto.” 

Brock exhales when he gets into the car, resting his head against the steering wheel while you stared at him with your arms crossed in front of you. “The guys keep bugging me about not dating anyone so I told them I was seeing someone to get them to shut up.” 

“And you didn’t think that was relevant to mention when you invited me here that there was a good chance they would think I’m the girl you’re dating?”

“No. I figured they would have forgotten about it by now.” 

“Well, their wives didn’t.”

“So what do we do?”

You stare at him. “I could leave on the next flight and get out of here and probably be mad at you forever. Or, we pretend we’re together.”

He whips his head to you, his eyes crazy with shock. “What?”

You shrug, pulling out your phone and showing him the notes you made during the game about you and him being together. “We fake date. I’m only here until Wednesday, and you said we were only going to be seeing your friends on Tuesday night. We have plenty of time to figure this out.”

“We have a day and a half.” 

You scoff. “You think I haven’t figured out more complicated things in less time? I got a plane ticket and got myself here on twelve hours notice.”

“So, we fake date?”

“We fake date.” 

_____________________________

“What are you doing?” you ask, walking into Brock’s kitchen the next morning, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. You spent the night in his guest room, sleeping in what was probably the most comfortable bed you had ever slept in. You spent the night before starting to hash out the story you would tell his teammates and their partners, agreeing that you would only share information about the two of you if you were directly asked about it. 

“Debating whether or not to make us breakfast,” he tells you, one hand on his hip, the other holding open the fridge door. Brock had on no socks, boxer shorts and a t-shirt, all of which showed off to you just how unfair his entire physique was. His hair was messy in a somehow perfect way that would have made you drool under any other context. You could pretend to drool over him, but real drooling was out of the question right now. 

“What’s the other option?”

He closes the fridge door, turning to face you. “I don’t make breakfast and we go out for food instead.” 

“How good are you at making breakfast?”

“I make a mean bowl of cereal.” 

“We’re going out for breakfast, get dressed.” 

“Wow, my girlfriend is bossy,” he smirks as you walk away, looking over your shoulder at him and sticking your tongue out.

Was that too flirty? You had agreed last night that flirting was ok so you could ‘get used to it.’ How could you flirt in front of other people if you had never done it before? 

You call Lena while you were getting ready. 

“You could just real date him,” you hear her suggest, crunching on something on the other end of the line.

“You could just give me real advice and not chew on something in my ear.” 

“It’s morning, let me eat my apple,” Lena says, obviously with her mouth full. “What are you guys doing today?”

“Right now, getting ready for breakfast. Beyond that, watch my location.”

“Yeah, I have no job. I can just stalk you all day.”

“If I end up dead how are you going to know?”

“Ugh, fine,” she sighs. “Have fun, don’t die.”

She hangs up, leaving you alone to get dressed for a day you didn’t know the details of. You pull on leggings and a sweater, your sneakers on and grabbed a jacket that you didn’t even know if you needed. You head back out to Brock’s kitchen, finding him leaning against the counter on his phone.

“You need to change,” you tell him. He had on black jeans and the same color sweater as you. 

“This could be a cute couple thing,” he jokes. “We could take a picture together and post it, or something.” You hesitate, walking over to Brock as he extends his hand with his camera open. “At least pretend to like me,” he tells you, plastering a smile on his face as he starts taking photo after photo.

You rest your hand on his chest, leaning into him and smiling at his camera. You did look good together, if you had to admit. 

“Can you do one where you kiss my cheek?’

“What?”

“Don’t couples do that?’

You stare at him for a second. Would it be weird to do that? He asked you to do it. “I normally scroll past those photos.”

“Me, too.” The two of you stand in silence for a second, neither of you sure how to go on. “Maybe we don’t do that. Too much, too soon.” You nod in agreement.

“So, where are we going?”

Brock smiles at you, leading you out the door. 

_____________________________

The breakfast he took you to was amazing. He said that he had an entire day for you planned as a thank you for coming out here in the first place. 

“How are you with hiking?”

“It depends.”

“On?”

“How long the trail is.”

Brock laughs, putting his car in park in front of a water front. 

“If we don’t stop, it’ll take two hours.” 

“That seems like a long time.”

“That’s how long my games are.”

“Yeah, that was a long time,” you tease him, getting out of the car. 

The trail was beautiful, a breeze off the water cooling you down as you walked alongside Brock. This could easily have been a real date if the two of you were actually together. 

You shake your head slightly of the thought. This was just supposed to be you helping him out, even though that wasn’t the original purpose of your trip. “So what are you supposed to do for Friendsgiving tomorrow night?”

Brock stops walking, the person behind him nearly knocking into him as he scolds Brock for stopping in the middle of the trail. You pull him over to the side of the walkway, ignoring the spark that you swore ran through you as laced your fingers in his. 

“I have no idea, actually.” 

“So you’re off to a great start.”

“I think I was told to bring something in the group chat,” he says, using his free hand to pull out his phone and start scrolling through the message thread that seemed to go on forever, your hands still intertwined. You weren’t sure he even noticed at this point, but part of you didn’t want to be the one to break the connection between you. “Ah, mac and cheese.”

“Have you ever made homemade mac and cheese before?”

“It has to be homemade?”

You roll your eyes, starting to walk again with your hands still locked together. “Did you think it would just magically spawn in front of you once you got to Quinn’s place?”

“I only have boxes of the store brand of mac and cheese.”

“Oh my god,” you sigh, pulling out your phone and finding the recipe you make for yourself when you have motivation. “Can you use Quinn’s oven when you get there or will he not have space?”

He quickly types on his phone as the two of you keep walking. “Yeah, we can as long as it doesn’t take too long,” he tells you, showing you the message from Quinn.

You nod, scrolling to the recipe on the website. “What do you have from these ingredients?” 

Brock quickly scans the list, nodding along and mouthing each component to himself. “I have the flour, salt, and pepper.”

“So you were supposed to be making mac and cheese and you had neither the mac nor the cheese?”

“That would be correct.”

“Oh my god,” you groan again. Brock stops walking, pulling you off to the side of the trail again. “What?” Brock gestures to the water in front of you, the sun making the ripples shine, the sky absolutely pristine. “Wow,” you let out. 

“What do you think?” you hear him ask, not taking your attention away from the sight in front of you.

“It’s beautiful.”

“It is.” You look over at him, seeing him tuck his phone away into his pocket, his eyes on you instead of the view. 

_____________________________

“Why was getting all of this way harder than I thought it would be?” Brock asks, putting the bags of groceries on the counter.

“Because you had no idea where anything in the store was and we had to keep doubling back for things we missed the first time.”

“You really have an answer for everything, don’t you?”

“We’re dating, isn’t that something you’re supposed to know?”

Brock laughs, pulling out pans and bowls from his cabinets as you start to get everything prepared for the mac and cheese. You tell him what to do, giving him step-by-step instructions.

“This is nice,” he tells you. 

You think for a moment, shredding the cheese into a bowl. The recipe called for more cheese than any recipe you had ever made before, and somehow the mountain of cheese in front of you still didn’t feel like enough. “It is.”

“My mom and dad used to cook like this,” he tells you, his voice somber as he comes up behind you. 

“Yeah?”

“She would tell him what to do and he would do it. Badly, but he would try his best.” You laugh along with him. He had told you that his father had passed away a couple of years ago, but you didn’t know anything else about him other than what she could find with a quick google search that now, in a weird way, felt like an invasion of privacy. “We could always tell which things Dad helped with because they tasted just a little off.” 

“You miss him, don’t you?” you say, slowing down your shredding and turning towards him. He was facing you again, his arm around you but not touching you, resting on the counter on the other side of you. 

“Always.”

You swore he was going to lean in, his eyes flickering down to your lips. You clear your throat, turning back to the cheese. “You should check the pasta to see if it’s almost done or not.”

Brock nods, smiling and winking at you before doing what he was told.

_____________________________

“This is all fake.”

“And?”

“It doesn’t feel fake.” 

“Well, you aren’t a great actress, are you?”

“Lena,” you whine. 

“I saw you try out for The Little Mermaid in middle school.” 

You had texted her once the mac and cheese was done and you were back in what Brock now referred to as ‘your room,’ panicking that he had almost kissed you again. What if you were just reading into things? You felt stupid to think that he was doing anything more than pretending for the sake of getting used to things for tomorrow, right?

“Is there a chance for this to turn into something not fake?”

“Considering he lives in a different country, unless you want me to actually move to Canada without you, no.” 

“Do you want it to be something that isn’t fake?”

You hesitate, knowing that Lena had a stupid smirk on her face that would turn into some sort of ‘I told you so,’ later in the conversation. “Does it matter?”

“Of course it does.”

You sigh. “He’s great, but I’ve known him for two days. You don’t fall for someone like that in two days, it’s absurd.”

“Jack and Rose did in Titanic.”

“And that’s fiction, not real life.”

“Ok, if you had more than two days, then what?” 

“Then, I don’t know. Maybe?” 

“So, what do you do about it?”

“What can I do, Leen?” You flop down on the bed. “I’m here for less than two days before I leave and probably never talk to him again. The best this can be is fake.” 

_____________________________

“Are you ready for this?” Brock asks you, handing you one of the trays of food you made. “No.”

He smiles at you. “Me neither.” 

You head towards the door of Quinn’s place, ready to be as overwhelmed with the people you were about to encounter as you were two days prior at the game, even if you had already met most of these people. 

Lexie is the first one to greet you, somehow, through the chaos of everyone else around you. She leads the two of you into the kitchen, even though Brock already knows his way around. “I’m stealing her,” she tells Brock, grabbing you by the hand and leading you off to another room while all the guys stand around the kitchen island, somehow the ones in charge of the food.

“It is so good to see Brock so happy,” she tells you, handing you a glass of wine as she poured one for herself. The two of you were alone in the room she pulled you into, leaving you amazed that with that many people in the house, there was even an empty room to begin with. “I mean, those photos he posted of you? You are the most photogenic person I have ever seen.”

“Uh, yeah,” you tell her, knowing that you have to stop stammering everytime you try to give someone an answer. 

“You don’t know about the pictures?” You shake your head. She prompts you to pull up Brock’s page, the most recent pictures one from yesterday.

You scroll through the carousel. The first one, as you saw, was the one of you two before you went out for the day. The second one was one of you in the airport, looking for him. You thought you looked awful, but somehow, he made you look good. The third from the game the other night, one of the photographers probably captured a photo after he scored of him looking at you and smiling at him before he heads to the bench. The fourth and fifth were ones you had no idea he took; when you were looking out at the water yesterday, smiling at the sight while your hair somehow perfectly framed your face, and while you were hunched over the cheese, grating too many cups of the stuff for today. 

“He’s in deep,” Lexie smirks, drinking her wine. 

You can feel the heat rushing to your cheeks as you looked at the photos, which he captioned, Thankful for you, with your handle tagged. 

“Now it makes sense why I’m getting so many notifications,” you joke, setting your glass down on the table in front of you. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to go find the bathroom.” 

You head back towards the kitchen, hoping to find Brock there. 

“I’m surprised you actually are dating someone,” you hear someone’s voice in the kitchen.

“Yeah,” Brock responds.

“I thought you made her up,” another voice agrees with the first. 

“I’m not Quinn, I wouldn’t do that,” Brock lies.

“That was one time when I was in sixth grade,” the first voice argues.

You hear Brock laugh, your heart fluttering at the sound, immediately hating yourself for that. You’ve known him for a few days, why did you have to remind yourself about that?

“How long have you guys even been together?” Your heart stops,hoping Brock remembered all the things they talked about the last few days. She knew what he should say, but that didn’t mean he would say it.

“Only about two months, I think.” 

“You think?”

“Petey, you know he’s not good with time.” 

You finally work up the nerve to walk into the room, seeing Brock’s face light up at the sight of you. 

He was faking it. 

“Hey, babe,” he says, pulling you close and kissing the side of your head. 

“God, you two aren’t going to be the kind of couple who overdo the PDA, are you?” Petey asks.

“Only if you piss us off,” Brock says, not taking his eyes off you. 

“So, um,” you say, coming back to reality and turning to the other two. “Everything looks great.” 

Quinn looks at the clock on the oven. “We should probably eat soon. The food should be in a couple of minutes.”

“We’ll get everything on the table,” Brock volunteers the two of you, grabbing one of the plates and handing them to you.

“Everything is going well, so far, I think,” you whisper to him once you’re out of earshot of the others. 

“Everyone thinks we’re actually together. I think we might pull it off.” 

_____________________________

The rest of the night went surprisingly well, the attention largely kept off the two of you most of the time as the team seemed to be more interested in teasing each other while their partners rolled their eyes at the guys’ antics. Brock drove you back in silence, a smile on his face the entire time. 

You headed to bed, knowing that you were going to be leaving when you woke up the next morning, part of you dreading the moment Brock would drop you off at the airport. 

He pulled up to the terminal, neither of you moving once he put the car in park. 

“Can I admit something?” he asks. 

“Sure.”

“I don’t think I want you to leave.” 

You look at him. “I don’t really want to leave.”

“But,” he starts.

“I have to.” 

Brock gets out of the car before you could say anything else, heading to grab your bag from his trunk. 

“We were good at fake dating, though,” he says, handing you your bag. 

You nod as he pulls you in for a hug. “Was all of it fake?” You don’t know what compelled you to ask that, other than you not thinking before you speak.

Brock smiles, his arms still wrapped around you. Before you can fully process it, his lips find yours, a sweet, slow kiss as your lips moved together, his hand on the small of your back pressing you into him. 

“No.” 

[abilouwrites]

I HEARD AN UNHAPPY ENDING

IT SORTA SOUNDS LIKE YOU LEAVING

Ooc bkugo?? Idc

I want to break the cycle, of this silly little are they are they not together. It’s annoying, frustrating, jaw clenching, “so you’re not gonna go to the prom? Come on Kats I’m sure it’ll be fun. I know it’s very American but it’s still fun, we don’t get to go to school dances” I reason, slinging my bag over my shoulder and pulling my hair out from under it, “I guess you don’t have to go, I can go by myself with Ochako or Izuku. We can do a threesome” I tease slightly, peering over at him as he shoves his pencils into his backpack. I shuffle around my coat pockets and grab my car keys

“That’s even more stupid, you’re all stupid I don’t even know why you want to do that. Waste of time and money” he grumbles. Eyes narrowed as I push the door open and start walking out, I know he’s watching me, I feel it in the back of my neck as I fuss with my hair, “here, you left one of your hair clips” he takes my hand and shoves the pink clip into my palm, “you keep leaving your stuff in my car”

“Oh! So that’s why I’m driving today? You wanna leave your sweaty gauntlets in my car huh?” I sass at him slowly making my way down the stairs and out into the student parking space.

“Yeah, at least I smell good when I sweat, you just stink” I know he’s playful, and maybe I’ll miss this playfulness when I leave.

“Yeah, not all of us have the components of candles in our sweat. Lucky bastard” I unlock the car and he drops his stuff in the back and I start the engine.

He scoffs slightly and I slowly start backing out, “I’m gonna go. To the prom. After we graduate, I got an offer in Los Angeles. And I accepted” I explain, “it’s too good of an opportunity to pass up, my quirk is so water based to be that close to the ocean would- it would put me at the top in a controlled environment. With a mentor that- that understands”

“Oh.. ok, well that- that’s only like- a days flight away we can still hangout. Maybe over breaks I come see you” He reasons, staring at his phone, “when did this happen?”

“About a month ago, I did so well on my exams and my stats were super high for a water quirk I was kinda in a league of my own.. so am I not going to see you at the dance?”

“No, because they’re stupid. And I’ll hold onto that- for ever. Or whatever you say” he shrugs and shakes his head. He doesn’t click the radio on, just sits in silence staring out the window as I drive.

“Jeez, y’know maybe you’re just upset because you don’t have a date” I tease gently but that longing feeling comes back, the one where I want to stay for him. In my imaginary world where we’re in love and that he would follow me to America or maybe I would stay here. In Japan where I don’t belong.

“I don’t- need a date to enjoy a dance. You’re all I need to have fun, sucks that you’re leaving” My heart jams in my chest. I’m all he needs? I’m twisting those words— I have to be.

I sigh, long and deep as I park into my driveway. He gets out, grabs his stuff and starts to leave, “In case I don’t see you again.. I’ll miss you”

“Don’t be stupid y/n, we always find eachother”

I feel relief, a small amount of pressure is lifted off my chest.

“Mmh you don’t think it’s too much?” I ask Ochaco as she sprinkles the skin glitter on my collarbone, “I mean I know it’s ’dancing under the stars’ themed but I don’t need to actually shimmer”

She shakes her head, smiling and gleaming as she brushes through her hair after she dusts me, “it goes with your eyes, you look.. like a star. Bakugo was stupid just to let you go. You’re gorgeous”

I roll my eyes at her, “you look beautiful, the green suits you. And someone else” I tease gently and she flushes red

“It’s not like romantic or anything! He’s just my date.. uh.. come on we should get going”

I didn’t expect to see him there, dressed up his hair doesn’t slick back. But he still looks dressy, “hello stranger” I smile and grin and he perks up. Goes from staring at his phone to me.

“You’re. Glittery?” He stares a little baffled, jaw dropped slightly, he closes and still looks.

“I am. You’re here? I thought these were ‘a waste of time and money’ you going back on your word?” I perk an eyebrow at him.

“Can’t let that depressing car ride be our goodbye”

I’ve never seen him unagressive, soft and kind. Something I’ve seen so rarely. He takes my hand, “and.. y’know as long as I have you. In some stupid way I think I can enjoy these. But only if you’re here” he admires me softly. Taking my hand and following as I pull him onto the dance floor.

His hands intertwine with mine as we dance, music floods our senses. Some pop song, sounds so familiar and distant at the same time.

His hands on my hips and I sway underneath him, he stares at me with a fondness I’ve only seen my dad look at my mom with.

The beat kicks and I barely notice anyone but him, like the world has just dropped away and he’s all that’s left, “I love you. I think. I always have. And I’m scared I always will” I whisper, it’s drowned out against the music and deep bass.

“Huh?!” He shouts out above the music

“I SAID I LOVE THIS SONG!”

“OH! OKAY!”

It’s always been like this, unspoken words- and I said it. Drowned out by the music, by the noise of everyone else by us. I wish it would’ve been different, maybe in another universe. But we’ve grown up. From biting at each others throats to being able to drive in the same car together. It hits me with remorse, a little pang of pity as I look into those crimson eyes I used to fall asleep thinking about.

I’m scared how much I’ll miss him, how his name is on every pro-con list I’ve ever written. When I was making the choice to leave. Katsuki was first person I didn’t want to leave.

“I’m gonna get water!” I shout out, he shakes his head. But he follows me as I walk out, “I’m just getting water, don’t- you don’t have to follow me out”

“No. It’s fine. Uh. I just need a breather” He grumbles. Twisting the watch on his wrist, “are you ok?”

“Mnh” I nod slightly, “my feet are killing me! Hey! I don’t have a ride out can I go with you?” I ask plopping down onto the grass

“Yeah, yeah whatever” he groans, “you look nice. Don’t. Don’t really know if I’ve already said that” he takes his hand and rubs the back of his neck.

“Is this the right choice?” I ask him, looking up as he looks down, “moving. California.. leaving it- feels right. I think”

“You think or you know?” He asserts, frowning down at me- the same look on our first day. When I fell over my shoelaces and ate dirt. He didn’t laugh or tease. Gave me his hand and helped me up. But now he doesn’t hold my hand. Now I have to get up on my own

I sigh, staring down at my shoes. Pondering, wondering, “there’s nothing left for me here. The only thing I know- is that. The only thing tying me here is you. And I don’t- I don’t know what to make of that”

“You can go. I don’t- I don’t fucking need you to hold my hand and. And you don’t have to stay with me. Jesus I don’t even know why you thought of that. Like you’re- we’re codependent on eachother because we’re not!” He throws his head up and cocks his leg, shaking his head with vigor, “go. Go because we don’t have anything to offer you anymore”

“Ok. I’ll go” I say, it feels so set in stone. Like this is how it’s going to be, “you’ll still call me?”

“Sure.”

I want to tell him how I feel, I want to so so badly it burns at my stomach and makes me sick. Makes me violent and angry. But I don’t, I’m too scared to ruin this friendship. So nervously crafted and delicately touched I can’t drop it on him. No matter how he looks at me, or how he sits next to me with his hands on his knees. How he looks over at me.

He leans in slightly, I follow. Our faces centimeters apart, heat radiating off the both of us, “y/n” he whispers so softly but it echos in my brain. Rattling like a pin that has just fallen. I want to reach in, kiss him. Wrap my hands around his face and kiss the daylights out of him like I’ve never kissed someone before.

He kisses me, softly at first, but the longer it lasts the more vigor he finds his hands, balancing against my face. Gripping me and I grip back, “mnh Katsuki”

“Shut up. Just stop talking for five minutes and let me kiss you”

And dear god did that sound like a deal to me.

[taurasiscntybun]

Thanksgiving stuffing

- BG x Femme reader

-Graphic descriptions of sex, adult language, size kink, daddy kink, sub/dom

- 1,500

-for @taurasicomplex so she can stop sending me anon bg requests

“Fuck B, you know I gotta get this going before your mom an’em comes.” You say as BG wraps herself around you against the counter. You attempt to ignore her, flipping through your worn recipe book, trying to remember how much butter went in the cornbread.

“Mmmm, come on baby, calm down, you got half of tomorrow to cook too, and mom and pops will be here.” Her large hands wander under your apron and tease at the hem of your tee shirt.

“I gotta at least have the cornbread done by the time your parents get here, it would be embarrassing if I didn’t. Plus, I need to get the turkey out of its brine and stuff it.” You anxiously babble, and she leans downs to kiss your neck.

“Chill baby, you have plenty of time I promise, now, you need to relax a little.” B’s hands go around your hips and she lifts you with ease, sitting you on the small amount of free space on the counter.

“I don’t wanna hear it. I’ll clean up, but before you stuff the turkey… you gotta let me stuff you.” She gives you an exaggerated wink at her bad joke. You huff a laugh through your nose and shake your head, clearing a bit of space on either side of you. She leans forward, resting her hands in the newly cleared spaces as she cages you in.

“You’re just so cute in your apron, cooking up for me babygirl.” BG kisses down your jaw and neck, her plush lips feather light against your skin.

“I w..wanted to make a good impression.” You stammer and tilt your body to the side a bit, exposing more of your neck to her. She pulls away, her hands moving to your thighs and rubbing soothingly.

“I told you babygirl, they’re gonna like whoever is makin’ me happy. I promise, baby, my family is gonna love you.” B gives your thighs a supportive squeeze and resumes kissing down your neck. She subtly pulls your hips forward and steps between your thighs.

“B I really should be cooking.” You protest weakly, regretting only cooking in one of BGs big shirts and panties. Your protests are half hearted and she knew it. She pushes your knees up and back, tilting your hips and exposing your wet panties.

“My little babygirl is a liar, but that's ok.I just wanna ease your stress.” BG angles her large stature to support your legs as her nimble fingers tease the side of your underwear.

“Fuck. Ok… ok… hurry before your parents get here.” You give in in a flustered tone and wiggle out of your panties. As you drop them to the floor, B teases a finger through your folds.

“So wet for me” She groans and leans over the counter to kiss you, her finger still teasing and not giving you what you needed.

“Stop teasing, we’re on a time crunch.”

“That’s why I’m teasing babygirl, and ain’t nobody got a key; so nobody gonna see anything. I’m teasing cause you gotta relax mama.” She lifts your leg higher and kisses from your inner thigh all the way to your ankle bone above your slipper, the sudden move eliciting giggles from you.

“Alright, alright please” you whine and wiggle your ankle in her grasp.

“Please what babygirl? Please help you in the kitchen? Please mow the lawn? Please make you cum?” She teases and bites your thigh gently. You squirm on the counter and glare up at her.

“Please make me cum.”

“You know I was being so nice and wanted you to have some stress relief from cookin, but what was that attitude baby? Am I gonna have to get a little more stern?”

You moan and nod

“Please daddy make me cum.” You amend and she lowers your leg, her hand moving up your thigh to tease at your wet pussy again.

“Good girl.” B praises, and pushes one of her long fingers in your core.

“Oh fuck, daddy, yes.” You moan and lean back on your elbows to support yourself, BG leaned over you. She pumps her finger in and out, her thumb finding your clit and circling it lazily.

“You’re so tight baby girl, you can barely take one finger; I’m gonna stretch you out so good later when you cum all over my cock. I guess I gotta start prepping you now baby.” She groans and introduces another thick finger to your core. You whimper at the stretch and sit up a little to grab her.

“I need more of you, daddy, please.” You know there’s no time for the strap right now, but B was perfectly proficient with her fingers. You cling to her, needing to feel more of her strong body.

“Shhh you gotta relax then baby, come on, let daddy into your pretty pussy.” She croons and captures your lips in a brutal kiss. You moan against her in response and your hips jolt as she pushes a second finger in, stretching your tight cunt deliciously. BG grins into the kiss and crooks her finger up, hitting the sensitive spot inside you.

“Oh fuck yes! Please, more like that daddy!” You beg and sag back onto the counter, arms under you for support. B braces herself against the counter and brings her free hand up to cradle your head, letting you rest in her big hand. Her motions don’t stop, moving in c motion, the heal of hand rubbing against your clit as she buries her fingers deep.

“You like that babygirl? Getting stuffed by my fingers?” Her voice was rough with lust, but you saw the smile on her face at her little joke.

“Yes daddy, yes!” You whimper, and your pussy throbs around her thick fingers.

“See now you’re nice and relaxed, that’s what you needed, and now you’re gonna cum for daddy. I wanna feel your tight pussy spasm around my fingers, then you’re gonna stand up and make the rest of our thanksgiving dinner with your cum dripping down your thighs. My good little wife.” BG rambled before bending down to kiss you sloppily. Her fingers move faster; her pace punishing as she thrusts into you.

“Fuck good girl, squirting on my fingers? You’re close.” BG thrusts her fingers up and pushes down on your belly.

“You feel me here babygirl?” She groans. Her finger brushes your cervix and you moan, your orgasm close.

“Need’ta cum daddy please” you beg and grab her shoulder.

“Alright baby,since you’re such a good girl I’m gonna let you cum all over my hand.” B smirks and slows her pace but makes each movement deliberate. Your pussy quivers around her and your breath hitches as you approach your peak. As your pussy spams around her fingers, she groans “that’s right baby, cum all over daddy’s fingers, right now baby.” Her voice is soft but you can hear the demand in it. She grinds her palm against your clit one more time and you cry out, your orgasm washing over you.

“Oh shit B!” You moan.

“Fuck good girl baby” BG praises and kisses you again, her tongue and fingers moving in slow rhythm together.

You tremble and ride and waves of your orgasm, her touch turning gentler to draw it out. She pulls her fingers out and brings them up to your mouth.

“Lick them clean for me.” She commands and stands straighter. You close your mouth around her fingers and swirl your tongue. She pushes her fingers deeper, forcing you to gag on your own release. Tears spring to your eyes and she bend down and kisses them away, finally pulling her finger out slightly. You gasp for air and try to slurp up the spit.

“Mmm did you taste good baby? Clean it all off my fingers.” She commands gently and straightens your rumpled apron lovingly. You lick her fingers clean and press a small kiss on the cross tattooed on her finger. B gives a hum of contentment and pulls her hand away.

“Alright babygirl why don’t we take round two to the bedroom and I can fuck you in nothing but your apron.” She nibbles your earlobe as you try to compose yourself.

“It depends on how much time we have-“ The gate bell sounds and your time is up.

“Fuck and I don’t even have the turkey in the oven.” You groan and slide off the counter.

“It’s ok, you go get dressed baby and I’ll blame myself, trust me, they’ll believe it.” BG rests her chin on the top of your head and helps you untie the apron and hugs you close.

[morgana-larkin]

I would love for you to write Agatha and reader and bath sex please

Hi anon! Ok so I was originally going to make it so reader gets injured and then Agatha goes into protective mode so hard, but then I thought of stubborn and power bottom Agatha. I will definitely make another fic with protective Agatha if you guys want but here’s the fic. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

Make You Better

Warnings: Smut, service top reader, power bottom Agatha

Words: 1.9k

You watch as she stumbles in, outfit with some blood on it, and she has a small limp as she walks.

“Oh god, what happened?” You ask her as you rush over to her and help her reach the couch.

“One of the witches didn’t try to kill me with her powers.” Is all she says to you and you roll your eyes.

“I wish you would stop doing this. Not only are you killing witches but you’re putting yourself in danger. Like you stumbling in like this is exactly what I’m afraid will happen to you.” You tell her as you get the first aid kit.

“I’m fine, just a small cut.” She tells you and winks at you when you kneel in front of her.

“Small cut or not, I’m just a human, I can’t heal or protect you.” You tell her as you get the rubbing alcohol and put some on a cloth.

“You’re not just a human, you’re a human that I love.” She tells you with a smile. “And besides I don’t need you to protect me.” She adds on and you give her a look before cleaning her wounds. “Ow!” She says.

“Small cut my ass.” You mutter and you know she heard it. “Any deeper and this would have needed stitches.” You tell her as you patch her up.

“Either way I have my cute girl patching me up. I guess you actually do heal me.” She tells you and you shake your head at her with a smile.

“You’re a dork.” You say and finish patching her up.

“Can we have a shower together? I need to wipe all this dirt and sweat off of me.” She says and you shake your head.

“No, it's best if we go to bed and you can take a bath tomorrow.” You tell her and she pouts. “It’s your fault you went out and killed witches.” You tell her and she sighs. “We don’t want to damage your wound with all the chemicals in the hair and body wash. So it’s best to wait and then take a bath tomorrow as it won’t be hard on your wound.” You add on as you clean up and put the first aid kit away. You drag her to the bed, tuck her in and give her a kiss goodnight.

“You’re not joining me?” She asks and you shake your head.

“Like you said, you’re covered in dirt and sweat. I’m taking the couch.” You tell her and leave as she starts to protest.

You get ready for bed, lay out a sheet and blankets for you along with your pillow from the bed. You lay down and then you feel arms around you and you open your eyes. You look and see Agatha trying to cuddle you and you shove her off of you.

“Agatha, what are you doing?”

“I want to cuddle.” She says with a pout.

“Go back to bed, you need to heal.”

“I don’t want to go back to bed if you’re not there.” She says sternly and crosses her arms. Knowing that you’re not winning this argument with her, you grab your pillow and walk to the bed. Agatha follows behind you with a smirk on her face.

“Wipe that smirk off your face.” You tell her without even having to look at her.

“I’m just happy that I get what I want.” She says as you both climb in the bed. “I always prefer cuddling with my wife.” She says softly as she wraps an arm around you.

“You’re such a sweet talker.” You tell her and she smiles at you before wrapping an arm around your waist. You move your body closer to her and she wraps her arm around you tighter and presses a kiss to the side of your head before putting her head back on the pillow and falling asleep.

She wakes up first the next morning and she puts her robe on and then goes to get food ready. You wake up a few minutes later and you go downstairs and see her making breakfast.

“You should take it easy as you’re injured.” You tell her and she scoffs.

“When do you ever see me doing that?” She asks you.

“Never, but you should so your body can heal properly.” You tell her and then walk up to her and give her a kiss on the cheek.

“Maybe you should make me.” She tells you and she turns the stove off and puts the food onto two plates she brought out.

“We’ll eat and then I’ll get a bath ready for you.” You tell her and she nods.

“I’d like that.” She says and gives you one of the plates and you both go sit to eat.

After breakfast you make her sit on top of the toilet while you run her a bath. After you finish getting the bath ready, you help her take her clothes off.

“Aren’t you getting in with me?” She asks and you look at her. “Please?” She begs and you give in.

“Alright, how can I say no to my injured wife?” You ask and she smiles before you strip off your clothes. You walk in the tub and sit down before she gets in and sits between your legs. She leans down to relax into your body and you wrap your arms around her waist, careful to not touch her wounds.

You get her to go forward a bit and instruct her to lean back so you can wash her hair. Her hair dips into the water and you get to work to wash out all the dirt from her hair. You don’t use any shampoo, conditioner or body wash as the chemicals might irritate her injuries. After her hair is dirt free, she sits up and leans back her body into you. You wrap your arms around her again and you both just stay like that for a few minutes before you begin rubbing the dirt off of her body. You accidentally touch her nipples a couple of times and she bucks her hips. She then takes your hand and moves it down to her entrance and you immediately smirk at her reaction.

“What do you want?” You ask her.

“I want you to stick two fingers in me and go slowly at first.” She tells you and you nod before lightly teasing her entrance then sticking a finger in her and then followed by another. The fact that you’re in the bath made it easy to slide your fingers in her. You start slowly pumping in and out of her just as she instructed and she starts moaning. You may be a top but she’s a big power bottom. Only a few times she’s let you take complete control and you honestly don’t mind.

“Does that feel good?” You whisper in her ear and she nods.

“Yes, start going faster.” She says and you speed up and she gasps and bucks her hips. You hold her down, mostly so she doesn’t re-open the cut on her stomach. “I want to set the pace I want.” She tells you.

“I know but right now just tell me the pace, I don’t want you to risk opening the wound.” You tell her and she groans before moaning.

“Circle my clit and go slightly faster.” She says and you do. You move your other hand down and start circling her clit and pump in and out of her faster. You see your hand moving under the water and see your other hand circling her clit, you then look at her and she has her eyes closed and mouth open. “Faster, I’m close.” She says and you let her buck her hips slightly and her breathing is heavy. You pump faster and circle her clit faster and she gasps as she comes. “Don’t stop, keep going.” She immediately says and you don’t stop. You keep going as she comes again and you carefully pull out of her and place loving kisses on her neck to help her come down from her high.

“Feel better?” You ask her and she nods. “Come on, let’s get out and dry so you can finally lay down and relax.” You tell her and you both get out. You both put on a towel and then you bring her over to the sink and grab the hairbrush. You carefully start brushing the ends of her hair before brushing higher and higher, until you finish brushing all of her hair. You thread your fingers through her hair a few times, you love her long dark brown hair. “How about you go sit down on the couch and I’ll change the sheets on the bed so you can relax in bed?” You ask her and she turns around and arches her eyes and you sigh.

“How about I help you change the sheets and then we lay down and you be my little spoon?” She tells you and you know her well enough that you aren’t changing her mind so you nod.

You know if you’re really serious about it then she’ll do as you say but she’s also very stubborn and likes to do things with you. She helps you change the sheets, and then she lays down and you check her wounds, clean and patch them up again.

“They seem to be healing as they look better than they did last night.” You say as you finish patching up the cut on her leg. “What did she cut you with?” You ask her and she winces at the memory.

“A knife that she carries, or carried.” She tells you.

“Alright, slip on these loose pjs and then I’ll join you in the bed.” You tell her and she does as you instruct. “How come you only listen to me when it benefits you?” You ask her as you slip on some pjs yourself.

“Because I like the reward.” She tells you as she finishes getting changed and walks up to you and wraps her arms around you. “And the reward is time with my favourite human.” She says and you giggle.

“I’m the only human in your life.” You tell her and she shrugs.

“So? Doesn’t mean you can’t be my favourite.” She says and you smile at her. She then gives you a quick peck before you both crawl into bed and she spoons you. “By the way, I’m not surprised my injuries are healing when I have the best and sexiest nurse in the world.” She tells you and you chuckle.

“And as your nurse, you’re not allowed to leave the house until both of them are healed.” You tell her and you turn your head enough to see her pout.

“But-” She begins to protest and you turn around and put a finger over her lips.

���Do as your nurse tells you.” You tell her and she pouts again before nodding. “And instead of complaining, how about you put that mouth to better use and kiss me and also make me cum?” You ask her and she smiles. She kisses you before trailing a finger down your body and plunges a finger in your entrance and you gasp into the kiss.

Taglist:

@imaginesmultifandoms

@morgananyx

Let me know if you want to be added!

[coichii]

MARLBORO NIGHTS - YUNJIN

pairing - badgirl!gf!yunjin ♥︎ nerd!fem!reader

genre - mostly fluff with comfort

word count - 0.6k

warnings - getting high + smoking

A/N - I’ve never smoked a day in my life or been high so I have no idea if I described it well🥲 also, I’m not a GG writer. I write practically only for Straykids, I just happened to cook this up.

—

new message from “yunnie💗”

8:03 PM

yunnie💗: my parents aren’t home

yunnie💗: wanna go get high🍃??

you: I’m studying yunnie -_- sorry!

yunnie💗: oh cmonn

yunnie💗: you’ve been studying all day

:(

yunnie💗: don’t you wanna see me?

—

You can feel the temptation burning at you, your hands itching at you to type “fuck yes!”, but the text book infront of you is screaming “ax^2 + bx + c =0”

—

you: im sorry bby </3 but yk ms.tuckers exam is coming up soon

you: i’ll see you tmrw, i promise

yunnie💗: her exam isn’t until wednesday!!

yunnie💗: plssss y/n :(( i promise it’ll be the best high of your life if you come with me

—

“Ah, fuck it.”

—

you: fine.. ok i guess we can go get high or wtv😒

you: can’t say i don’t want to see you <3

yunnie💗: I knew you couldn’t resist <3

yunnie💗: meet me at the park ok? im bringing the roll.

you: okay, see you there xx

—

“Here, let me light it for you, baby.” Yunjin proposes, bringing the lighter up the cigarette between your lips and lighting it. “There you go.”

You mumble a quick, “Thank you” as you inhale the bitter taste of the cigarette smoke, coughing slightly.

You never smoke when you’re not with Yunjin, so you’re not quite used to it yet, but you’re getting there.

You pick the the cigarette out of you lips with two fingers, setting it in yunjin’s as she breaths in a mouthful and blows it out, creating a satisfying grey cloud over the two of you.

“Yknow,” she starts, plucking the cigarette out of her lips to continue. “I hope im not being a bad influence to you. I’ve never had anyone accept me like this.”

You watch as she picks a peice of her hair from behind her ear and pushes infront of her face, wanting to hide the emotion that was becoming evident on her face. “I don’t mean to at all.”

“Yunjin, stop. I promise you’re not a bad influence on me. It’s my decision if I want to get high or not. My decision if I want to stop studying for the night. You’re all I need.” You try to console, but you can see it’s not doing all that much.

“You hear what everyone says around school. They say ‘yunjin is going to ruin that girls life’. And I don’t want that to be true.” She says between breaths of tobbaco. “I want to be good for you.”

“Yunjin.” You plead. “You are good for me. Those people don’t know what they’re talking about. They don’t see the real you or who you really are in the inside. They see a silhouette and think they know everything, but they don’t. I know you. And I love you.”

She can feel the weight of your words on her mind, and it’s bringing her comfort as they sink in.

“I seriously don’t know what I’d do without you y/n. I love you.” And she’s kissing you.

You can taste the nicotine on her tounge as you deepen the kiss, and it’s sending zings and buzzes to your brain.

Little did she know, you don’t know what you’d be doing without her.

She had no idea, that she was perfect for you and that was all that matters.

So you’ll teach her how to drown the voices out of all the people who said otherwise, who said you two weren’t meant for eachother.

You’ll do anything if it means you can stay with her, and you’ll spend everyday proving that.

[shallowrambles]

sometimes i think about the contrast between andrea and cas

both are “too far gone”

and in the same episode we get such a stark contrast! benny preserves deans happiness; dean does not preserve benny’s

comparing benny saving cas to dean killing andrea is stark and even bleak

(no time maybe for discussion w/benny but it was a fatal blow to andrea; there was no disablement or consideration for knock out blows, certainly no rational convo with her, or emotional appeal for second chances/how to beat addiction etc etc; so very telling)

i mean, benny was doing plenty of flagrant dismissal-and-dehumanization-and-escalation all on his own, but!

just a flash of teeth and bam

dean chose the coldest, most permanent solution; the hunter’s choice

is it any wonder benny wanted to stay in purgatory? his unfinished business now resides there

[livvyofthelake]

i don’t mean this to sound homophobic or whatever but some queer people literally cannot conceptualize that they actively look down on things they consider “basic” or “straight” with an insane level of contempt no matter how much they say they support everyone and everything. like. if i tell you i love riverdale because it’s campy and fun and you give me that look of disgust because you perceive riverdale as some basic lame straight people show. that’s not very like. nice. and then you refuse to hear me out in my show’s defense… and you just wave me off with a “whatever like whatever you like” but you’re still looking at me like i’ve just ordered a pumpkin spice latte while wearing ugg boots and listening to taylor swift. like at a certain point when will you admit you’re not actually very nice about people’s interests that don’t align with yours.

[pyaasa]

Cardi B saying “I will only vote for Kamala if she commits to a ceasefire in Gaza” shows that she has more political understanding than like 99% of you on here

“I meannn I DO support Palestinians but 👉🏽👈🏽 I’m going to vote for and uncritically support Kamala anyway and put zero pressure on her to stop the genocide ✌🏽”

Not only are you guys unbelievably callous, but you’re also just not smart. At the very least, withhold your support for Kamala UNTIL she commits to a ceasefire. Make your intentions to her clear that you will vote for her IF she withdraws support from Israel. By uncritically supporting her, by loudly voicing the fact across every social media platform that you’re going to vote for her, and even straight up saying with your whole chest that you’re putting your interests first before the Palestinians (seriously you guys have no shame. Like it is actually shocking to me how unbelievably cruel some of you are), and most especially by DONATING to her lmfaoo….you are letting her know, you are literally EXPLICITLY telling her, that the Palestinians are fair game. You are telling her she can kill as many Palestinians as she wants, drop as many bombs on the Middle East as she wants, and it’s ok because you will still vote for her anyway.

For the love of God, if you are in the USA, PLEASE try to understand the power of your vote. Your vote decides if someone in another part of the world dies. Please at least try to feel the gravity of that. Please at least TRY to put pressure on your politicians. This uncritical and loud support is the worst thing you can do. You are signing a death sentence for the people of Gaza with your actions.

[tutuandscoot]

In my Latch feels 💕

Tessa giving Scott a supportive rub after their FD

[norrisainz33]

Miami Baby | MV33

☆ summary: actress and avid f1 fan visits the paddock for the first time and she is a certain world champion’s celebrity crush.

☆ pairing: max verstappen x famous!reader x grid!platonic

☆ fc & warnings: suggestive! you are responsible for the content you consume.

☆ requested: nope!!

☆ a/n: this was one of the first fics i ever started writing and just havent had the nerve to post it. this is my first time posting a written and smau fic so bear with me here 🥹

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

ynuser has added to their story

[story 1: guess what i’m up to this week] [story 2: princess treatment fr 💅🏻]

view story replies

user2: MIAMI GRAND PRIX?!

user4: omg are you finally going to a grand prix!!!!???

yourbff: AND SHES DRIVING A FERRARI?!

ynuser: YES!! this is a dream come true

yourbff: i’m so happy for you y/n/n 🤍 FORZA FERRARI!!!!

ynuser: FORZA FERRARI

tomholland2013: Hope you have the best time in Miami!! Z says that you have to come with us to Silverstone tho

ynuser: thank you tommy!! count me in 🫶🏻

user3: MAMA Y MIAMI

user1: car or driver - level impossible

ynuser has made a post

liked by scuderiaferrari, carlossainz55, sabrinacarpenter, zendaya and 2,657,101 others

ynuser: hot new driver alert, watch out boys! Make sure to catch my hot lap with The Carlos Sainz and say hi if you see me this weekend in Miami 🫶🏻❤️🏎️

view all 2,103 comments

user3: the way she was giggling like a little kid as carlos whipped the car around , oh i love her

user4: no bc she’s finally at a gp living her dreams

user6: she’s literally just another celebrity?

user5: user6 you don’t know the lore! she’s been an f1 fan since before she got famous and she’s been friends with rebecca and alex for quite a while

carlossainz55: had an absolute blast driving with you! looking forward to seeing you this weekend!

ynuser: likewise!!!

scuderiaferrari: bellissima! ready for an exciting weekend ❤️

iamrebeccad: hottest hot lap i’ve ever seen😍😍

maxverstappen1: hot lap with me next

charlesleclerc: since when do you do hot laps?

user8: AM I READING THIS RIGHT

user9: MAX!???????????

user10: i’m sorry is the max verstappen trying to flirt rn

charlesleclerc has posted a story

view story replies

ynuser: thank you charlie 🫶🏻

charlesleclerc: bien sûr y/n

user3: do you wanna be my chauffeur next?

maxverstappen1: charles you have got to introduce me to her

charleslerclerc: to who?

maxverstappen1: y/n

charlesleclerc: max are you ok?

maxverstappen1: what do you mean??? yes, i am ok??

charlesleclerc: i’m just shocked you willingly want to be introduced to someone??? let alone a celebrity?

maxverstappen1: charles 🙄

maxverstapppen1: she may or may not be my celebrity crush ok

charlesleclerc: ohhh mon ami you should have said that sooner

charlesleclerc: i’ll get alex and rebecca on the case 😉

maxverstappen1: oh god no charles i just meant an introduction i don’t need anyone on the case 😭

user12: 3 pretty best friends

user14: the little matching outfits?! im sick

ynuser has added to their story

view story replies

user15: you were made to wear ferrari merch

iamrebeccad: can’t wait to show you off to all the other boys 😍

ynuser: but you’re the only one i want 😫

iamrebeccad: i know darling but im not the only one who wants you 😉

ynuser: CRYPTIC what does that mean

alexandrasaintmleux: i’m so glad we finally got you to ferrari mon amour but we should definitely take a walk around the paddock!! you can meet some drivers that aren’t in red - maybe some blue

ynuser: i’ll go anywhere with you

maxverstappen1: i think red bull blue would look better on you

ynuser: blue? perhaps!

user17: begging to know where you got that belt it’s so slay

user22: one of these drivers has got to wife you up you’d be the best wag

user18: can’t wait for all the pictures of you on the grid

ynuser has added to their story

view story replies

charlesleclerc: find max! he’ll help you get back to ferrari

user14: steal all their notes and bring it to ferrari so we can have a better car

landonorris: come to mclaren its way better here

ynuser: ok then come get me muppet i’m lost 😭

user87: steal one of the cars and give it to carlos!!!

user23: ms girl what are you doing there?? i thought you were supposed to be filming your new movie!

iamrebeccad: 🤭🤭🤭

ynuser: oh so you did this on purpose?

user55: project get ferrari a rocket ship is a go

~~

The pit lane was humming with activity as mechanics and team members alike continued with their duties after a productive qualifying session. You glanced around looking for your friends, alex and rebecca, who had convinced you to take this walk in the first place, but you couldn’t find them in the sea of red bull employees. Letting out a sigh you pulled out your phone hoping to see some sort of reply from either them but there was nothing.

"y/n?" a familiar voice questioned, startling you out of your thoughts. you were met with a confused looking max verstappen and you felt your cheeks heat. max was still in his white fireproofs with his suit pulled down around his waist and you'd be lying if you said he didn't look incredible. you may have accidentally admitted to alex that max was your crush on the grid and you had a sneaking suspicion thats why both her and rebecca magically disappeared leaving you here.

"yes! hi max!!" you said quickly, holding out your hand for him to shake. "it's a genuine honor to meet you!" max looked down at your outstretched hand and paused for a moment before taking it in his own.

his hand engulfed yours as a grin stretched across his face, "the honor is mine, y/n - i'm actually a pretty big fan of yours."

"you are?"

max chuckled, "yes? is that hard to believe?"

"no, no .. i just didn't think you'd know who i was! i mean - im just surprised is all," you said quickly, realizing you were stumbling over your words but max didn't seem to be phased.

"don't be surprised, you are quite talented," max took a sip from his red bull can and you watched as his eyes danced around the pit lane. "do you want an escort back to ferrari?"

"yes, please."

"great, come with me," max rested his hand on the small of your back as he ushered you through the red bull garage and back to the paddock. he made idle chit chat as you tried your very best to focus on anything other than the electricity you could feel from where his hand met the fabric of your dress.

"ahh there you are mon amor!" alex cooed as you and max approached the ferrari hospitality. rebecca looked between you and max with a knowing look on her face. you made a mental note to talk to them both later about how they couldn't just leave you places unattended even if it meant meeting max.

"well would you look at this," charles patted max on the back as he walked past taking his place next to alex. he had a devilish smirk plastered across his handsome features as his eyes travelled between the two of you.

"max was kind enough to help me navigate my way back here after alex and rebecca so sweetly ditched me in the pit lane."

"oh was he now? well then we must repay my dear friend! how about you come to the club with us after the race tomorrow max?" charles looked expectantly at his friend.

max let out a sigh, "i suppose i could be persuaded."

"thats the spirit!" charles clapped his hands together, "i'll text you the details mon ami."

a night club? in miami? with max verstappen? this ought to be interesting.

~~

ynuser has posted multiple stories

[story 1: race day let’s go] [story 2: im not crying!! YOU are] [story 3: idk if miami can handle us @.alexandrasaintmleux]

view all story replies

user16: you crying over lando winning his first race is so real

landonorris: i am crying u r right girl

ynuser: as long as ur not cryin in the club

landonorris: not yet !! but the night is young!!

user22: ok body is tea wtf

alexandrasaintmleux: you’re so beautiful i love you so much

ynuser: YOU are so beautiful. i love you more my girl

yourbff: why are you !! a ferrari!!! crying over a mclaren?!

ynuser: bc it’s lando and we love bob in this house

yourbff: ok yeah fine

user12: miami is NOT ready for your hotness that’s for sure

ianrebeccad: ok i need to borrow that outfit from you asap. also pls get to the club faster im stuck here without you both 🥹

ynuser: you’re the one who wanted to “get ready” with carlos and not us soooooo

user44: i’m foaming at the mouth

maxverstappen1: understandable to cry over me not winning

ynuser: i’m glad you get it 😫

user45: that’s not a face card, that’s a whole face economy

user33: who are these divas?

~~

max could feel the music pounding through his chest as his fellow club goers danced to the beat. feeling all sorts of nerves, he brought his gin and tonic to his lips and took a few big gulps hoping the liquid courage would hit him soon. his eyes couldn’t help but follow you as you swayed your entire body to the music without a care in the world. readjusting the hat on his head, he watched as your skirt inched lower on your hips and he could almost feel his mouth start to water.

“max just go and talk to her!” charles yelled over the music pulling max out of his thoughts.

“i can’t.”

“quoi? what do you mean you can’t?”

“she’s just… i just… i can’t!” max finished off his drink and set it down on the table in front of him. “i mean look at her,” max explains throwing his arms up in exasperation, “she’s so beautiful!! i’m not sure i’d even know what to say.”

“just ask her to dance or to get another drink!” charles looked over to you, alex and rebecca as you danced with carlos and lando.

“i can’t.”

“max - if you don’t i guarantee someone else is going to try and make a move on her.” charles was now staring max down with a scowl on his face, “and i know that would upset you more than just growing some balls and talking to her!”

max frowned, realizing his friend was right. “i’m just scared she won’t like me.”

“i have insider knowledge that says she fancies you.”

max’s eyes widened, “and you didn’t lead with that?”

“no because i wasn’t supposed to tell you!! now please for the love of god let’s go get her.”

max and charles navigated their way through the sea of bodies until they made it to your little group. you looked up at max with a bright smile and he felt the butterflies in his stomach intensify. before he lost all of his nerve, he blurted out “get a drink with me?”

you nodded, “i’d love to!” max smiled and grabbed your hand so that he wouldn’t lose you in the mass of people.

there was very little available space at the bar which left you leaning against the counter and max directly behind you leaning against you so that he could hear the bartender. not a single coherent thought was going through your head, all you could focus on was the way max’s body rested against yours, the warmth it offered you, the way he was resting his strong hands on either side of you and how if you turned you’d be face to face and able to kiss him right on—

max tapped on your shoulder pulling you out of your thoughts and earning a slight jump from you. “the bartender asked what you wanted to drink, y/n” max explained into your ear causing goosebumps to spread like wild fire across your skin.

the bartender was looking at you expectantly, “oh! i’ll take a gin and tonic please!!” you panic ordered not being able to come up with anything else on the spot. “so sorry,” you quickly added as the bartender turned to make your drink. mentally you scolded yourself for not being able to get it together but boy was keeping it together hard when the max verstappen was very much taking up your personal space.

after thanking the bartender for your drinks, max took a step back allowing you to turn and look at him. he was in a pair of his classic skinny jeans, a backwards black cap, a black tshirt that hugged his arms perfectly and he wore a soft smile as he looked down at you with his big blue eyes. “wanna dance?” you asked before taking a gulp of your drink.

max’s grin grew, “absolutely.” you decided not to give him any time to reconsider and instead grabbed his hand and drug him out to the dance floor. you could feel eyes on you both but you didn’t care. “i should likely preface this with the fact that i’m not much of a dancer,” max admitted sheepishly. he was taking note of how close you both were now. you had stopped rather abruptly in the middle of the dance floor leaving him so close to you that he could steal your breath if he really wanted and oh boy did he want to.

you laughed effortlessly, “everyone is a dancer if they try hard enough, max!" The DJ began playing a remix of one of your favorite songs and max watched intently as you began moving to the music. He threw back the remainder of his drink and made quick work of discarding it, feeling more courageous now.

you quickly noticed max was still very much standing completely still. “it’s all in the hips,” you cooed putting your free hand on his hips and pushing him so he would move. max obliged and began swinging his hips back and forth timidly, not having a ton of room to move out at the center of the dance floor. "atta boy!" you praised giving him a smirk.

max almost choked on air at that comment from you — what could he say? he was a sucker for praise and that comment gave him the confidence he needed to place both hands on your hips and pull you in so that your body fit snuggly against his own. max had a feeling that this was going to be a very good night.

~~

f1gossip has made a post

liked by user1, user2, user3, user4, user5, user6 and 26,264 others

f1gossip: last night max verstappen and actress y/n y/l/n were seen attending a party with many of the grid members. they seem to have gotten very cozy out on the dance floor sharing quite a few kisses. it’s also reported that the pair were seen leaving together at the end of the night.

view all 249 comments

user1: OMG WHAT MY WORLDS COLLIDING

user2: nah he looks so fine in that hat omg

user8: i knew him offering that hot lap had to mean something

user6: they’re both so hot i’m sure their night was … actually imma stop myself before i get banned

user3: this was orchestrated by alex and rebecca i just know it

user8: i could see charles and lando getting in on it too tbh

user4: jealousy doesn’t look pretty on me but dear lord am i jealous

user5: he may have bagged the baddest baddie alive.. how did he manage that in those skinny jeans

user4: listen those skinny jeans make his thighs look real biteable

user5: and you got me there

user9: need more max and y/n content asap

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thank you for reading!! likes and reblogs are very much appreciated 🤍

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[checkeredflagggs]

Unexpected Roommate

pairing: lando norris x pet owner!reader

summary: when moving in with his girlfriend, lando gets confronted with the new side of her pet

a/n: inspired by the guy walking his pet down the street I saw yesterday…

yourusername

liked by landonorris, yourbff, oscarpiastri, and 231,445 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername: and it’s moving day! It’s a big step for us but I can’t wait to start living with you landonorris!

view all comments

user1: oh god the fomo I have

↳user2: saaaaammmmmmeeee

oscarpiastri: the question is was lando being helpful today or just disruptive?

↳landonorris: oi!!!

↳yourusername: Oscar!

↳oscarpiastri: it’s a valid question! I work with him — I know his habits

↳maxverstappen1: same

↳alex_albon: same

↳georgerussell63: same

↳danielricciardo: same

↳carlossainz55: same

↳landonorris: you frickin muppets!

↳yourusername:…

↳yourusername: he was helpful moving me out but quite distracted when we got to our new place

↳landonorris: oi!!!

↳yourusername: sorry baby but it’s true

user3: god the heart fingers…when will it be my turn…

user4: we need a tour!

↳user5: yaaassss! I need all the details for my fantasies where I’m living her life…

↳user4: ok let’s not get too crazy here

alex_albon: let us know when you’re all moved in!

↳landonorris: why?

↳maxverstappen1: so we don’t get roped into helping of course!

↳landonorris: I’m gonna block all of you

carlossainz55: did he let you get anything done once you got there?

↳landonorris: yes!! And I helped!

↳yourusername: the bedroom and his game room are done…

↳oscarpiastri: yeah that sounds about right

↳landonorris: stop slandering me!

↳user6: little lando norris learned a new word!

↳yourusername:🤣🤣🤣

↳landonorris: babe! 😢😢

yourusername

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, oscarpiastri, and 397,455 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername: didn’t know I would gain a limpet when I moved…or that my dinners would now come with live entertainment 🤣🤣

view all comments

user7: I’ll take that issue off your hands

↳user8: or me!

↳yourusername: sorry he’s mine only!

↳landonorris: I’m yours?

↳yourusername: I’d fight all your fangirls for you

↳landonorris: babe 😍😍

landonorris: babe…why you gotta do me dirty like that??

↳landonorris: you said you wouldn’t post these photos!!!

↳yourusername: I lied! Gotta show everyone your true character

↳landonorris: babe!

↳yourusername: sorry not sorry 😘 forgive me?

↳landonorris:😢😢😢

↳yourusername: 🥰🥰🥰

↳landonorris: ok but only cause you’re really hot

maxverstappen1: need a crowbar there?

↳alex_albon: or maybe another set of hands to push him away?

↳yourusername: is both an option? 🤣

↳charles_leclerc: might need some chains and a tow truck…

↳maxfewtrell: can you even breathe?

↳landonorris: I’m literally going to report all of you for bullying me

↳charles_leclerc: you’d need to detach yourself from her first

↳alex_albon: are we supposed to be scared?

↳maxverstappen1: so?

↳maxfewtrell: in real life too?

↳yourusername: even me? 🥹🥹🥹

↳landonorris: never you baby

yourbff: he is NOT invited to girls night

↳yourusername: of course not!

↳landonorris: you said I could come!

↳yourusername: the council said no!

↳landonorris: is the council yourbff?

↳yourbff: And coco!

↳landonorris: coco would never! She loves me!

↳yourbff: still a no!

Private Messages

lnupdates

liked by user1, user2, and 790,469 others

tagged: landonorris, maxfewtrell

lnupdates: I don’t even have words for how chaotic Lando’s last stream was… can anyone identify the voice in the background that was cursing them out?

view all comments

user9: it wasn’t yourusername was it?

↳user10: no she had photos posted of her and yourbff at a concert

↳user9: then whoooo???

↳user10: I think I heard them say coco??

user11: like I’m concerned about who that was but…that was freaking hilarious

↳user12: I completely agree. Whoever they were, they were roasting max and lando

↳user13: the absolute shock on lando’s face when the first motherfucker rang out…

user14: taking notes 📝📝📝📝

↳user15: what for???

↳user14: Lindsey is going down next time

↳user15: oh my god let it go

↳user14: never

Private Messages

yourusername

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, charles_leclerc, and 1,590,278 others

tagged: lnupdates, cocotheparrot

yourusername: the criminal from last night’s streaming…snafu. Meet Coco! She’s a mature African Grey Parrot I adopted from a friend who could no longer care for her.

She has…strong opinions and an even stronger way to express those opinions 🧡

view all comments

user16: oh my god I’m in love

landonorris: you didn’t tell me she talked!!!

↳yourusername: babe it’s well known that african greys are considered the smartest parrots

↳landonorris: WELL KNOWN TO WHOOOO?!?

↳alex_albon: everyone

↳yourusername: everyone

↳lilymunhe: everyone

↳charles_leclerc: everyone

↳maxfewtrell: everyone

↳maxverstappen1: everyone

↳carlossainz55: everyone

↳mclaren: everyone

lnupdates: oh my god!! I would never even guessed a parrot!!

user17: she’s absolutely beautiful!

↳user18: god I’d love to get a parrot

↳yourusername: take care! Parrots are one of the hardest breeds to take care of and one of the longest living ones too — anywhere from 40-60 years

↳user18: …ok maybe not a parrot

↳landonorris: 40 TO 60 YEARS???

↳charles_leclerc: maybe you’ll learn a new language listening to her!

↳landonorris: 4 to 6 DECADES OF BEING SWORE AT?

↳alex_albon: awesome!

↳yourusername: she doesn’t swear all the time…

↳landonorris: 😨😨😨

a/n2: so I saw someone walking their pet parrot down the street and it was so cool! I didn’t get swore at (which would have made my day tbh) but this popped into my mind and I had to write it out. I don’t know why but lando makes the most sense to have a pet parrot that swears

[togament]

𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌. sakura, ume, kaji, suo.

"ever thought how it would be like to kiss them? here's how they love to do it."

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : SUGGESTIVE KINDA SPICY, kaji is a mess (i’m in love), ume is a puppy man and he is needy, pls protect sakura, SUO????? SUO.

𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐀.

- shy, shy SHY. You gotta guide him through it, babe. But once he gets the hang of it (and once he gets over the embarrassment), expect him to be all over you. - Handsy when he hasn't seen you for the longest time, caressing softly and he pulls you into him so tightly you feel like you'd merge into one being. if he’s pissed, his hands are fiery, all over your body, groping and pulling at your clothes. - please don't kiss him in public. not like he doesn't want to. of course he really does. but he can't take the teasing and the attention it brings. (he also can't prevent himself from blushing, ok? you know how red he gets!)

𝐔𝐌𝐄.

- BIG SMILE KISSER. Your teeth kiss before you both do sometimes. Likes holding you in his arms when he’s kissing you. God. You know those sort of movie kisses where the love interest cups the lead’s cheek so lovingly, so softly like she’s about to break? Whispers sweet nothings to the main lead before leaning in for a perfect kiss? lmao you’re definitely not having that with ume. Sorry. - He’s a goofy kisser, giggles sometimes when you both are into it. Like, he’s just happy to be there, y’know? He whispers how much he loves you, how good you smell, how pretty you are though. who am i kidding? Any kiss is a good movie kiss with ume around. - Just expect him to ask for more than just a kiss after your lips leave his. firing all cylinders too. puppy eyes, all cutesy and stuff. He’s very needy. And I mean NEEDY.

𝐊𝐀𝐉𝐈.

- of course, goes without saying that kissing kaji’s sweet. If he can’t kiss you in public, he gives you his lollipop. You tease him often, twirling your tongue along the candy, puckered lips slowly sucking it in. you know he's staring. you know he's blushing. he hates how he loves it. - Once he gets you alone? GOD. he presses you up against the nearest surface and kisses you feverishly, fingers harshly tugging at the base of your head to control you the way he wants. You yelp and he takes that opportunity to ram his tongue into your mouth, only to have you suck on it like how you did his lollipop. - But when he’s not super pissed or it’s just a lazy day for him, he looooooves lazy make out sessions while listening to music with you. His hand’s on your cheek, pulling you close. Your arms around his neck, pulling him closer until you’re straddling him already. (his go to is deftones btw.) - Kaji’s kisses are fiery and needy one moment, slow and sensual the next. No in between.

𝐒𝐔𝐎.

- likes teasing before he leans in to kiss you. You could just be talking about mundane stuff and he’s looking at you with a hooded eye, gaze flitting from your eyes to your lips and back again. Tongue darting out his lips to wet them only to pull his lower lip slightly between his teeth. He knows how to work you way too well. - He likes it when you kiss him so desperately after he teases you. With how neat and proper he is, you’d expect him to prefer slow and languid kisses. au contraire, he likes it MESSY. Tongues battling for dominance, hands yanking and threading through hair, him biting your lip when he pulls away, whispered dirty talks. - it's crazy how he pulls away from you and he looks so neat and tidy while your hair's frazzled.

a/n: ok another one before i head to bed. goodness i really do have to fix my body clock soon lmao goodnight sweetpeas~

[always-just-red]

A multi-headcanon request please. How the boys react when they discover their s/o has been hiding a wound from them because she had it under control and didn't want to give them something else to worry about

Hi! Thanks so much for the request and all the support! Have written a little fic for each of the guys, starring... - Xavier, Deepspace Hunter extraordinaire ✨ - Linkon's worst best baking partner, Zayne 🍪 - Drama queen Rafayel 👑 - King of self-care, Sylus 💅

Putting On A Brave Face

L&DS Boys x Reader

Summary: Sometimes, a certain hunter likes to say things are fine when they definitely aren't...

Genre: A lil bit of angst, mostly fluff + comfort!

Warnings/Additional tags: female reader, established relationship, swearing, canon pet names, some injury details/blood mentioned, teeeeency bit of suggestion (I'm looking at YOU, Sylus...)

| Word count: 4k (1k each!) | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Xavier ⭐

This is bad. Not ‘end of everything as we know it’ bad, but definitely ‘an obscene amount of paperwork’ bad.

You clutch one of your pistols to your chest— deep breath— and you listen carefully, your head leant back against the rock you’re using as cover. Your mind latches on to every sound: each growl, each rumble of earth that marks the movements of the Wanderers that have trapped you here.

You’ve fought worse odds, but then again, you don’t usually have to do it with a broken leg.

Or maybe just sprained? You shift a little, trying to move, and the pain that sears through you settles the debate in an instant. Your teeth sink into the back of your hand to keep you from crying out.

You hope Xavier’s ok. You sent him your co-ordinates minutes ago, and the lack of response has worry gnawing away at the deepest parts of you. You check your hunter’s watch.

Still nothing.

Another deep breath, and you readjust your position as much as you can. Balancing on your good leg, you manage to peer over the top of the rock to get a visual of your surroundings.

There’s four, no— five Wanderers. Stupid no-hunt zone; you’re never not outnumbered.

You can see your second pistol, abandoned in the middle of the clearing where you’d dropped it. There’s flickers of movement, too: further in the woods. More Wanderers. Shit.

You duck behind the rock you’re starting to think might be your new home. Then your watch flickers, broadcasting a map of the area, and there’s the co-ordinates of another hunter, closing in fast.

Something flashes in the clearing, lighting the dark of the forest like a stutter of lightning. Then again. Then again. There’s a blood-curdling roar, and it ends— abrupt— with another flash.

Everything goes silent, save for a familiar voice calling your name.

“Xavier!” you call back.

You peek over the rock to see your partner jogging towards you, dead Wanderers littered behind him. “Are you alright?” he asks, his voice soft as always, but his sword is still dripping blood.

“I’m ok.” You clamber up, using the rock as a seat when the small effort almost breaks you. “You?”

Xavier draws close— his gloved hands on your face, cupping your cheeks. His thumb grazes over a shallow scrape on your brow. “Yeah,” he answers.

“Did you find that weird Wanderer?”

He shakes his head: no. Steps back to check his watch. “It’s probably moved on to a different zone by now.”

“Then we should look for it,” you say, standing up. All of your weight is on one leg.

“Ah,” Xavier ponders, rubbing his neck, “really? I thought we should maybe head back.”

“No need.” And what’s the plan here, exactly? You can’t walk. You definitely can’t fight. Maybe you can wait here while he— no. He’s never going to leave you. “I told you I’m ok.”

“But you’re not.”

“I am,” you assert. You’re determined to convince him and your own, useless body. It’s just a sprain. It is just a sprain. You take a step forwards and stumble, your bad leg crumpling beneath you.

Xavier catches you, strong and solid, and he's holding you like you’re something delicate. He sets you down on the rock again. The pain is making your vision swim.

“You’re hurt,” he reasons gently, even though the truth of it is a knife that’s twisting in your heart. He seems to sense your reluctance: “There’s no shame in admitting that. It happens. Let’s go back.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m slowing you down, Xavier!” you gush. Your heart is split open and it has to bleed somewhere. “You have no idea what it’s like… being your partner.”

He’s looking at you with so much guilt and gods, you wish that somewhere was anywhere but his hands. “What do you mean?” he asks on a shaky breath.  

“I love working with you.” Soften the blow. “I love being with you, but you don’t need me. You’re this incredible hunter. This figure of legend, of everyone’s stories. You can do so much on your own and I just don’t know how to keep up. I mean, look at me— I can’t.”

You feel sick. Empty. “You shouldn’t have to hang back for me,” you finish limply. “You’re you, Xavier. You can fight like a hundred Wanderers and still come out unscathed.”

The blue of Xavier’s eyes has grown understandably more turbulent, though it settles a little. He seems to relax. “Yeah… about that,” he mumbles hesitantly.

He turns around and your mouth drops. A savage cut drapes like a crimson sash down his back, splitting the white of his uniform. It’s not deep enough to be fatal, but it’s not good, either.

“Wha— Xavier!” you exclaim, trying to surge forwards, but your pain keeps you rooted. “You said you were ok!”

“So did you,” he frowns, bewildered. “Can we get out of—”

“Yeah, yeah.” You let him take your arm and help you to your feet.

He leads you through the clearing and into the forest, supporting your weight as you hop along beside him. There’s a murmur about how he should carry you, but you’re quick to reassure him he’s doing enough. You’re both hurting; you both just need to survive the short walk out of the no-hunt zone, where a med team can take over.

“You don’t slow me down, you know,” Xavier says quietly, after a minute of silence. “You’re the reason I can keep going.”

You squeeze his arm affectionately, mustering a smile even though you’re nauseous with pain and the idea that he’s been dwelling on your speech this whole time. “Well,” you chuckle through gritted teeth, “you’re gonna have to learn how to get by without me.”

“Huh?” He gives you a curious look.

You glance down at your leg. “Zayne’s gonna kill me...”

Zayne ❄

“I’m a doctor.”

You stop what you’re doing to fix Zayne with a questioning stare. “Ok…?”

“I’ve published dozens of research papers. Pioneered new surgical techniques. My work on Evol-based regenerative properties still has lasting implications for my field, and I’ve the accolades to show for it. The Starcatcher Award. The Linde Award, too— I was the youngest ever recipient.”

None of this is news to you, and you can’t help chuckling at this change in your usually-humble physician. You humour him: “The youngest ever recipient, huh?” There’s a crack as you split an egg on the side of the bowl in front of you. “That’s very impressive.”

“Is it?”

Zayne stands from his seat at your kitchen table: you hear the chair draw back. You feel his presence arrive behind you as you continue to stir your soon-to-be cookie dough. “Yeah,” you lilt with a smile.

“Really?” he pushes again, and his arms wrap around you as he bends to speak into your ear. “Because someone seems to think I can’t even recognise a—” he nips at it— “sprained ankle.”

His breath is warm on your neck and you let out a giggle. “Keep speaking to me like that and these cookies are never making it into the oven. Or your stomach.”

The man relents. He releases you, not returning to his seat but opting to lean against the kitchen counter instead. You glance up at him; he stares back, waiting for an actual answer.

“My ankle is fine, Zayne.”

There’s a sigh as he crosses his arms.

“It is,” you insist, even though you did sprain your ankle at work today, it does hurt like hell, and you do just want to sit down. You reach for the flour you’d measured out previously, tipping it into the larger bowl. “If it wasn’t, would I really be here— making you cookies?”

“Yes,” he says plainly.

“You’re delusional.”

“Ok.”  

Well, that was a little too easy. Don’t overthink it, and definitely don’t read into the fact that he’s standing there oh-so-smugly, like he knows something you don’t. You finish stirring the flour into the mixture, then add the last of the ingredients. Just a pinch of salt, and then…

Where did you put the chocolate chips? You glance about yourself but they’re nowhere in sight. “Hey, Zayne? Have you seen the—”

“This cupboard,” he indicates with an upwards nod of his head. His eyes are relentless. “Top shelf.”

Ah. That’s ok. You’ve totally got this. You move beneath the cupboard, opening it and gazing up into the contents. You can see the pack of chocolate chips. You can get up there somehow, right?

“Would you like me to—” Zayne starts, but you cut him off:

“Nope.” You put your hands on your hips. “Please— if I can climb the back of an alive, awake, and very angry deluge wyrmlord to put a sword through its skull, I think I can make it onto the kitchen counter in one piece. Lemme just…”

Your knee lifts. You make it about a centimetre from the floor before Zayne’s hands are on your waist, grounding you. “Stop,” he instructs, and it's not a tone that allows for any rebuttal. Satisfied by your silence, he brings the chocolate chips down to you.

“Thanks,” you say quietly as they’re placed on the counter.

“You’re welcome."

Sheepishly, you spill a generous amount of chocolate chips into the cookie mixture. Your throat hurts in the way that keeps you from saying anything more. You already feel like an idiot, and your eyes are watering, threatening to make you look like even more of one.

Zayne’s hand appears in front of you, hovering over the bowl. You laugh in understanding: giving the half-empty bag another shake so chocolate chips fall into his palm.

“You… don’t have to explain yourself,” he says as he lifts them to his mouth. His next words are muffled: “But you can tell me anything, my love. I never want you to feel as though you can’t.”

You chuckle again; you can’t help yourself. Look at him: your oh-so-serious doctor shovelling chocolate into his mouth. He raises an eyebrow at you, his lips still on his palm.

“I know I can tell you anything,” you smile, the ache in your throat receding, however much the rest of you hurts. “I did sprain my ankle. It’s not that I wanted to hide it from you, it’s just—” you stop stirring the mixture— “it’s just that your whole life is taking care of people at the hospital. You should get a break from it. You should get to be Zayne, here… at home. Just Zayne, not Doctor Zayne.”

Zayne’s hazel eyes have taken on a hue of regret. He pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, buying himself a few seconds as he contemplates. “Are you a doctor?” he asks after a moment.

“No?”

“And yet, here you are, taking care of me.” He reaches for the abandoned packet of chocolate chips. “Tell me, does it feel like work to you?”

“Yeah,” you tease, drawing the packet away from his stretching fingers in explanation; you’re both grinning.

“Well, it never feels like work to me. Just Zayne likes taking care of you. And right now? He wants to bundle you up on the sofa and finish these cookies for you.”

You purse your lips: that’s some dubious wording. “Zayne, hell will freeze over before I leave you and this cookie dough unsupervised.”

He shushes you, pulling on the cord of your apron until the bow at your back comes loose. Before you can protest, he’s wearing the apron himself.

“Zayne, I’m not kidding. I know what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna get rid of me, and then you’ll—”

“Shh,” he coos again, whisking you carefully off your feet, because it’s time for a taste of your own medicine. “You’re delusional.”

Rafayel 🔥

“Mmhmm. Mmhmm.”

“Raf, who are you—”

He holds out a finger to shush you. “Mmhmm.”

You cross your arms impatiently. Who is he even talking to, anyway? His lilac eyes are locked on you as he continues humming away, apparently very invested in whatever the person on the phone is saying; you’ve never seen him go this long without talking.

He narrows his eyes at you. You narrow your eyes right back.

All around you, guests of the exhibition are milling about, all dressed to the nines and minding their business, however much they want the attention of the man in front of you. A few of them linger as they pass him, like they want to say something, like they’re going to say something…

But they don’t.

It’s a wonder that Rafayel stands out in the crowd as much as he does. You’d seamlessly located him, back from your third trip to the bathroom to check on the bandages you’ve managed to conceal beneath this dress. He’s still holding your purse for you, his phone in his other hand, except—

That’s your phone. That’s your phone! “Rafayel!”

He shushes you again. “I understand,” he says solemnly, notably not to you, “thanks for letting me know.” The call is ended. He takes a deep, collected breath, then looks at you. “I knew it!”

“Knew what? Who was that?”

“Zayne.”

“You called Zayne?”

“Like I had a choice!” Rafayel retaliates. It is true; he’s spent the entire evening trying to get you to admit something was wrong, and you had no intention of giving him that pleasure. “You’re supposed to be in the hospital! What kind of idiot breaks out of the hospital?”

The lack of irony in the question almost breaks you. “Umm�� you?! Like every other week?!”

He shrugs. “That’s different.”

“Rafayel, I swear, I’m gonna— ah!” you gasp in pain. You’d stepped forwards too quickly— maybe to strangle him, but that’s neither here nor there— and the wound on your side is clearly on his side. It stings like hell: punishing you, and you know the pain is self-inflicted.

Rafayel frowns in concern, maybe even guilt, and that’s why you didn’t tell him. “C’mon, we should go,” he insists gravely.

“It’s fine, Raf. It doesn’t even—”

“Stop lying! You said you wouldn’t hide stuff like this from me. You promised, remember?”

You’re losing track of all the promises you’ve made to the Lemurian, but you do remember that one. Guilt has its teeth in you, too. “I know,” you grumble, “I’m sorry, ok? I just knew—”

“What?”

“That you’d act like this! You’ve been working on this exhibition for months, Raf. Tonight is supposed to be about you. Not me— you. And I want it to stay that way. Everyone’s here to celebrate you and your work, and that’s how it should be. That’s what I want. To support you. To be here for you.”

Your voice has gone timid. You finish meekly: “Can’t you let me do this for you? Please?”

Rafayel’s eyes are wide and still the prettiest things you’ve ever seen, even in a room full of masterpieces and jewels you could never afford. They shine with uncertainty, but soften as he smiles, full of fondness and affection. “That’s sweet. But also? Really dumb.”

“Raf—”

“The only— and I mean only— reason I’m here tonight is because you are. I don’t care about what anyone thinks about me or my paintings. Just you. And you can see this?” He gestures around the gallery. “Anytime. My life’s your private exhibition, cutie. Exclusive access, 24/7, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

He steps closer to you: close enough that he can see the tear that’s made it halfway down your cheek. He wipes it away with a chuckle. “Plus,” he adds, “I know you know I’m amazing. You don’t need these old sourpusses to tell you that, do you?”

You laugh tentatively. “No, I don’t.”

Your injury protests as you use the lapels on Rafayel’s blazer to pull him closer; you have to stand on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. He’s still grinning as he draws away, a light blush on his cheeks, but the sweetness of the moment vanishes as his gaze drifts lower.

“My eyes are up here, Rafayel.”

“Yeah…” he concedes mindlessly, but then he points: “you know you’re like, bleeding, right?”

You glance downwards to where the red of your dress is turning darker. There’s just a small splotch, but it’s growing. Shit. You must have reopened the wound.

“Thomas?” you hear Rafayel call, and then he’s stuffing a silk handkerchief into your hands— helping you apply pressure. “We have to get out of here,” he explains as a figure joins you.

His agent folds his arms; this is not dissimilar to stunts you and Rafayel have pulled before. “Fake blood, guys? Really?” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “You can’t leave, Rafayel. I can just see the headlines tomorrow…”

“Dashing artist selflessly flees exhibition to save devoted bodyguard,” Rafayel concurs with a nod.

Thomas groans. “That’s not what they’re going to—”

“Help me out with this, cutie?”

“Yes, sir,” you mock salute.

A moment later, Rafayel has scooped you up into his arms. Your hero; he gives you a conspiratorial wink before glancing about frantically. “Quickly!” he cries out. “Everyone out of the way, please!”

“For the love of—” Thomas starts.

“Oh, gods!” you shout in agony. “It hurts. It hurts!”

Heads turn. Cameras flash.

Tomorrow morning, half of Linkon will be talking about one of their favourite celebrities and his long-envied bodyguard. A news article will pop-up on her doctor’s phone, and he’ll see the pictures and sigh.

Sylus 🩸

“It’s not too late to back down, sweetie,” Sylus sneers.

“Aw, but you got all dressed up for the occasion.”

Your eyes rake over the outline of the man’s abs, courtesy of the tank top he’s wearing, and it does take the sting out of the fact that he’ll be trying to hit you. He holds his wrapped hands before him, ready to defend, ready to attack. He’ll probably attack, right?

“Last chance,” he growls.

“Is it, though?” This is the third ‘last chance’ you’ve been given in the five minutes you’ve been teetering on combat. You beckon him with a curl of your fingers. “Come on, Sylus. This is getting old.”

He scoffs: “How do you think I feel?”

“Like you’re about to get your ass kicked?”

“Alright, enough.” His hands drop and it feels like you’re back at the academy, about to be scolded for not taking something seriously. Sylus turns his back on you. Moves to the edge of the boxing ring so he can retrieve a stool from outside of it and sit down in a huff. He starts peeling the wraps from his knuckles, and— wait, is he mad? Like, actually mad?

“What’s wrong, Sy?”

He laughs as though you’re missing something dreadfully obvious. Maybe irony.

“Sylus?”

“You really are heartless, sweetie. You know that?”

The words steal your breath away, if only for a moment. Yours is a relationship of pulled punches, but he won’t meet your gaze and that one was real, wasn’t it? He wanted it to sting. “Why—”

“I could have hurt you,” he snaps, his dishevelled, snowy hair falling to cover his eyes. His discarded wraps slide from his hands, pooling by his feet like blood. “You were going to let me hurt you.”

He looks at you, finally, but it’s not in the way you want. His gaze is cast low, trailing over your body and making you feel every bruise, every closed cut that wants to reopen and every ache, rooted almost to bone. You’d done your best to hide it, even going so far as to press make-up hastily over your purpled skin.

That Wanderer really did a number on you yesterday.  

“You should have told me,” Sylus says, since you’ve made it onto the same page. “Honestly, kitten. Why would you—”

“Because Luke and Kieran told me, ok?”

Oh, they’re going to kill you. It was supposed to be a secret, and here you are, spilling like a fresh wound because you can’t stand the thought of Sylus being upset with you. You step closer, scrambling to dissect what you’ve done right in front of his eyes— holding it out to him: this is why. This is why. “They said you had a rough week. Some deals of yours had fallen through or something. And I’ve been too busy. I haven’t called, I haven’t even texted, and…”

You need him to understand, but the truth is a mess in your hands and how do you even start to explain it to him?

“You wanted to do something for me,” he finishes for you, and you don’t have to explain a thing.

“Yeah…” you confirm, bittersweet and still sad. “You do so much for me, Sylus. I just wanted to do what you wanted, for a change.”

Maybe it’s a round of boxing. Maybe it’s a dozen illicit dealings where he needs you to play enforcer— it doesn’t matter. As long as he’s happy.

“Come here,” he orders gently.

You close the rest of the rift between you, letting him reach for you and pull you closer. His knees have spread so you can slot against him, and his arms circle around you— trapping you— as he nuzzles into the warmth of your stomach.

“I’m sorry I called you heartless,” he speaks into you, his voice muffled as he gives you a chaste kiss. He then cranes his head upwards, resting his chin against you so he can profess more clearly: “I do worry about you, kitten.”

“I know—” your hands move to his head— “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have lied to you.”

“Mmm,” he hums in accordance, maybe even forgiveness, and his eyes close as your fingers card through the soft of his hair. “I lied too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he confesses on a contented sigh. “I didn’t want to spend today… boxing.”

“What do you want to do today, Sy?”

His eyes flicker open and his hands find your hips. “What I really want…” he contemplates, as his thumbs slip under the hem of your shirt to rub circles on your skin, “is to take care of you.”

There are lifetimes of need in his gaze.

“Won’t you let me take care of you, sweetie?”

…

“If he finds the terms so disagreeable, then he’s more than welcome to take his business elsewhere. Although—” Sylus’s voice is cold— “he might find his other options less… amenable than when he saw them last. Less communicative, too. You can tell him I said so.”

He ends the phone call. Smiles. “Sorry about that, sweetie.”

“Are the boys ok?”

The smile widens, even though you can’t see it. “They’re fine.”

Phone set aside, Sylus carries on with the important business Kieran’s call had distracted him from. You’re half asleep, your head in his lap as he brushes your hair: rose-scented and soft from the bath he’d drawn for you, hours ago. Every bandage is fresh and clean. Every ache has been dulled with a lazy massage and more chaste kisses, for good measure.

“Perfect day,” you mumble blissfully.

“Perfect day,” Sylus agrees.

[ghostfacd]

IN A WORLD FULL OF BOYS, HE’S A GENTLEMAN ! | TOM BLYTH

PAIRING. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader

SUMMARY. despite being in a world filled of childish boys, your boyfriend was definitely a gentleman, always putting you before him

AUTHORS NOTE. the third installment because we love tom blyth and yn avocot. I recommend reading part 1 and 2 for more context!

tomblyth “babe, do you think we’re together in every universe?” is that even a question?

tagged @/ynuser

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ynuser stoppp i didn’t know youd actually take the question seriously

user1 get you a man like tom blyth bc oh my god

user2 idk what yn did to manifest him but i need her ways

user3 ugh idk what he’s doing with her lol he could do so much better

➥ user4 well someone had to say it..

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You didn’t understand how some people on the internet can be so . . . mean. Although there have been countless of fans cheering you and Tom on, it didn’t make it any less hurtful that there were still a ton who weren’t scared to be open about how much your boyfriend could do better.

It’s ironic; you think. They’re claiming they’re looking out for Tom, yet totally disregarding him and his girlfriend as human beings? Those weren’t real fans.

The reason for them hating you so much? Just for simply being with Tom. Everybody wanted him, that was your crime.

Everytime you got lost in your thoughts about this topic, Tom knew. Boyfriend instincts, he called them, but really, he was just a caring and observant person.

You tried not to break down over it, you really did, but a girl could only go on for so long before it all bursts out. Luckily, Tom pulls you right in, telling you to let it all out.

Although the world was filled with childish and hurtful beings, Tom Blyth was still who he was, a gentleman, attending to your every needs.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

tomblyth really dgaf if you like my girlfriend or not cause i do and that’s all that matters

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user5 im cryinf the polaroid he has of her

user6 YES REAL MEN STAND UP FOR THEIR GFS

user7 ALL THE PICS HE HAS OF HER 🥹🥹

tomblythswife oh to be yn avocot and be loved by tom blyth

rachelzegler tell ‘em 🙊

user8 she doesn’t even comment on the posts he makes abt her, so self centered lol

➥ ynuser I’m right next to him rn?? cant say the same thing about you “lol”

➥ user9 OH SHE ATE YOU UP @/user8

tomblyth_daily here are some clips of tom talking about his relationship in his new interview! GET YOU A MAN THATS LIKE TOM BLYTH 🗣️🗣️🗣️

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user10 the way he’s so passionate when talking about her and being a good boyfriend, God I hate being single

user11 “they’re not even that cute” STFU AND GO WATCH THIS INTERVIEW CAUSE ??

user12 tom blyth said put aside your nonchalant attitudes, im looking at YOU MEN 🫵🫵

ilovetomblyth he’s so boyfriend it actually hurts

user13 yn must’ve saved a continent in her past life to be dating tom blyth omg

ynuser girls, before you have a meltdown over a boy: think of what balleona laurent would do. kiss and manipulate coriolanus!

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tomblyth you kiss and manipulate me too

➥ ynuser you’re gonna get me CANCELLED

user14 literal unbothered icon i love her

user15 if i were her id post a tiktok with that audio “he chose me he don’t want you”

iloveyn SHES SO FUNNY

lionsgate us when behind the scenes photo of balleona 😻

➥ user16 lmao stop who’s the admin of lionsgate

user17 balleona is such a bad person but oh is she hot

tomblyth she was like a shot of espresso

tagged @/ynuser

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ynuser i love u more than words can describe blyth

user18 ok who’s cutting onions

user19 GIRLS, GUYS, THEY THEMS, STOP SETTLING FOR BARE MINIMUM WHEN TOM BLYTH LITERALLY CALLED HIS GF A SHOT OF ESPRESSO, GIVES HER FLOWERS EVERYDAY, AND TALKS ABT HER ALL THE TIME IN HIS INTERVIEWS

➥ user20 YELL IT HARDER SISTER 👐👐👐

user21 this is so dark academica im inlove with u guys

user22 parentssss

rachelzegler my favorites

ynuser SNOW LANDS ON TOP LOSERS

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tomblyth yn, i love you but

➥ user23 LMFAOO when he doesn’t finish his sentence

user24 the second pic thank u yn

joshandresrivera on top of u maybe

➥ user25 IM DYING OML

user26 thank you to lionsgate for casting the most hottest villain couple ever

[swordsandholly]

Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anthology

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist

cw: menstruation (not graphic), afab anatomy

Part 4: “Girl Problems”

You shift in the office chair, stomach lurching uncomfortably. It’s been bothering you today - groaning and moaning nonstop. So far you blamed it on the suspicious chicken salad you got from the discount grocery store. You took every stomach soother you could, all the way down to chugging tea on the hottest day of spring so far.

With a rather pathetic groan you stand to meander your way to the bathroom. Surely sitting on the pot will help - at least as a placebo. Just as you do, though, a very distinct wet feeling makes itself known. You freeze, briefly, as if it will go away if you stand still enough.

“Ah, fuck!” You gasp, grabbing your purse and jogging down the hall to the single bath stall and popping the lock shut.

As soon as you sit, you let out a small sigh of relief. At least you caught it before you turned your underwear into a total crime scene. You’d rather not have to explain to John why you need to go home and change. You dig through your bag to your usual pocket of various supplies. From lotion to a sewing kit. It never hurts to be prepared.

Except, as you rifle around, you’re not finding your usual stash. There should be at least three in here… when did-?

The very loud, distinct memory of a girl at a bar stopping you while canvassing for some sanitary products hits you like a train.

“Whatever you’ve got I’ll take.” She practically begged. So, you handed them all over because got forbid someone get stranded during the most hellish week of the month. Like you are now.

You make a deep, frustrated noise in your throat and bury your face in your hands. You’ve been meaning to put a basket of backup wipes, pads, and tampons in the little bathroom cabinet - not just for you but for customers, too. It just kept getting pushed off when you got busy with other things.

Shit. What are you gonna do? If you put your pants back on you’ll just bleed through them in ten minutes. Cursed with a heavy flow (or blessed with a strong connection to the moon, as your former hippie roommate insisted.) Less time than that, probably, based on the vicious cramp that travels from your lower back to pelvis. You won’t be able to get to the corner store with out leaving a war crime in your path.

John’s the only person in the studio right now. He doesn’t have a client for another hour or so but you’d rather die than tell your hot boss you’re bleeding everywhere. For a few, quiet moments, you violently bounce your knee and go through every possibility. Maybe you’ll suddenly turn into the flash and you can get home before anyone even notices. You don’t really have much of a choice, do you?

With another groan you pull your phone from your pocket, thumb hovering over his contact for just a few beats too long while you work up the courage.

>> ok so this is terrible

>> im so sorry

>> but im having girl problems and am stuck in the bathroom

>> im so sorry this is so unprofessional

Girl problems? What are you? In fucking middle school? Before you can send yet another in a long string of planned apologies, John answers.

J >> How can I help?

>> i dont have any products on me

>> meant to stock the bathroom

>> sorry

J >> Stop apologizing

J >> What kind do you use? I’ll go to the corner store up the street

You breathe out a sigh of relief, still nervously gnawing at your lip as you send him what you need with an example picture (just in case) and profusely insist you’ll pay him back. John refuses. You’ll just have to sneak the cash in his tips or something.

It isn’t long before you hear the front doorbell ring, heavy footsteps, then a gentle tap on the bathroom door. “Y’alright, love?”

You perk up. “John, I’m so sorry-“

“Didn’t ask if you were sorry. Asked if you were alright.”

You snort. “Yeah…”

“I’m goin’ to unlock the door to slide these in. No lookin’ I swear.” John says. As if you were worried about that. You trust John. More than maybe any other man you’ve known (not that the bar is very high.) It’s nice of him to say, though. The door barely cracks open, just enough for him to toss the box to you across the floor and shut it immediately. You barely even see his arm. “That all you need?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” You murmur, bending awkwardly and snatching up the box. “I’m really sorry. I know it’s not really… appropriate.”

“Love, it’s normal. It happens. Just get y’self situated.” John taps the door once before you hear his footsteps drift down the hall toward the front.

You feel a bit skittish the rest of the day. You know it’s stupid. John’s a grown man and it’s a natural thing that happens and it’s fine. He said it’s fine. If it wasn’t fine you probably wouldn’t still look up to him the way that you do - the way that you have since you came here. The way everyone else seems to. Even so, you step around him a little wider than usual on your way out - keeping your head hung low and both hands tightly gripping your purse.

You chew your lip, shifting in place as he locks the front door. “Look, John, I-“

“If you apologize again I’m gonna fire you.” John mutters, pulling on the door to make sure it’s properly secured. There’s humor in it, though, the corners of his lips quirked up slightly.

You scoff, still not quite able to meet his eye.

“Sweetheart, look at me.” When you don’t move fast enough, apparently, he tilts your head up with a light touch. His eyes are so warm despite their icy blue shade. Sparkly in the setting sun. “Any man worth his breath wouldn’t give a shite. I’m sorry if that hasn’t been your experience, but really, it’s fine. I’ll help you out a thousand times over if y’need.”

“Okay…” You murmur, suddenly very distracted by the feeling of his fingers touching your chin, light as is it. You pull away and clear your throat, hoping he doesn’t notice the growing heat in your cheeks. “Well, uh, see you tomorrow, then.”

John nods, still smiling. “Sleep well, dove.”

When you come in the next day, you expect to get teased. A snide comment or a sideways look. You would have at any other job you’d worked - especially one with all men. All giggling and poking at you like a bear they know can’t bite back. No one says a thing outside of their usual greetings when you make your way to the front desk, though. Johnny pinches your hip like normal, Simon greets you with his new pun of the day, Kyle gives you a distracted wave over the hum of his practice gun. John doesn’t bat an eye when he says hello and checks in about the plan for the day.

You open the bottom drawer that you usually tuck your purse into, pausing before you set it inside. At the bottom, neatly tied together with a piece of twine, sits a king size chocolate bar and a pack of Midol.

If John notices the way you become extra smiley after that discovery, he doesn’t comment.

A/N: This was very self-indulgent but I’m having a bad time over here and need to be saved.