#well now i can't do that with one click i have to go through my own blog to find my own og post even though it's Right There as a reblog
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୨୧ - picnic date
summary: 🍓🧺💐
warnings: none!
word count: 750
author's note: idea from the amazing @mattscoquette she's the absolute sweetest ever and i'm so glad we became friends !! <3 sorry for the wait btw
author's note 2: click here! and click here! i have little announcements about my account
author's note 3: also i just started a thing i'm calling 'mae's sturniolo catch up' so check that out too!! :)
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matt walks next to you, your fingers interlaced together as his thumb rubs the back of your hand gently in back and forth motions. in his other hand is the picnic basket you two packed together.
“where's the spot you talked about?” you smile and swing your arms a little, feeling like a giddy teenager for this date. “we're almost there.”
after some more steps, you both approach a clearing amongst the field of wildflowers you've been walking through. the summer sun beats down on you and you fan yourself with your free hand. after what feels like an eternity, you finally get to your spot and he places the picnic basket on the ground.
𐙚 ࣪ ˖
after setting up the picnic blanket and the food you brought, you and matt sit close and start eating the little heart-shaped sandwiches he helped you make just that morning. well, ‘help’ is a strong word. he just stood there with his arms wrapped around your waist, occasionally taking a topping to eat when he thought you weren't looking, while you did all the work.
the mini sandwiches quickly disappear from the plate one by one and all that's left are crumbs as matt pulls a bottle of champagne and two glasses from the basket.
he opens the bottle with that satisfying pop and pours some out for you then himself. “happy three months, matt,” you say as you clink your glass against his. “happy three months,” he replies with a smile before kissing you.
sure it may not be a ‘normal’ couple thing to be celebrating an anniversary this early on, but the past three months with him have been some of the best of your life. and he felt the exact same way about you. some may even bring up the three month rule; after that you can be sure if you want to continue the relationship or not, and you're more than certain you want to be serious with matt.
you slowly sip on your glasses of champagne and share some strawberries as you savour the moment of just being together right now. the summer's early evening breeze floats past you as the sun casts a golden glow on everything, getting ready to start coming down.
you're both sipping on your second glass, the last of the champagne since you only got a small bottle, when matt downs the rest of his and stands up suddenly, walking away from the clearing. “where are you going?” you call out to him.
he was walking quickly so he made it far in a short amount of time. “i’m getting you flowers,” he shouts back. you can't help but smile at the sweet gesture. he's always doing stuff like this, always paying attention to the little things, part of what makes him such a wonderful boyfriend.
a few minutes later he comes back over and stands in front of you, holding a big, over-the-top bouquet of wildflowers. “for you,” he mumbles shyly. you gratefully accept and kiss him when he sits down. “they're beautiful, thank you.” you take a flower out and put it in your hair.
seeing this stirs an idea in matt and he moves to position himself so he's kneeling behind you. “can i braid your hair?” “yeah, i'd like that. are you putting flowers in it too?” he hums a yes in response as he moves all your hair back and divides it into three uneven sections.
after a little while of him figuring things out, with the occasional small tug and mumbled apology, the braid is finished. he starts plucking random flowers from the bouquet and puts them through the braid. he takes a picture on your phone and shows it to you, looking very proud of himself - like a small child showing off a finger painting.
you look at the screen and you can't deny, it's a messy braid and it's very uneven, almost lopsided. but it's the prettiest braid you've ever seen, all because matt did it. “you did amazing, i love it.”
he sits next to you again and you rest your head on his shoulder. his fingers interlace with yours once more as you look up. the sunset paints the sky beautiful pinks and oranges. there's a few small clouds that if you stare at hard enough, could almost look like hearts.
he gives your hand a gentle squeeze, a loving gesture as you sit in comfortable silence, wishing this day would go on forever.
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𐙚 ࣪ ˖ tags: @chrissturniolosbitch @christhopersturniolo @mattscurlygirly @fratbrochrisgf @d3axplr @junnniiieee07 @rubyjaneaxx @remussbitch @sturnpooks @ribread03 @mattsfavbitchhh @blahbel668 @asherrisrandom @55sturn @joeblzy @ivysturnss @certifiedstarrr @stvrnzwrld @strnlslut @edwardscoldhands @emely9274 @strangelife122 @loveparqdise @meatballlover10 @lovevxle @conspiracy-ash
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#matt x reader#matt sturniolo blurb#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo angst#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo#matt stuniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo fluff#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo x reader#nick sturniolo#sturniolo triplets
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I occasionally wish to reach out to old friends/acquaintances I haven't spoken to since high school/some other even earlier time in my life, but I have SOOO little social energy even for required tasks (like making dr phone calls or etc), I never have any leftover for extra ones, and it would be very odd to message someone I haven't spoken to in like 5 years out of the blue but then take 4 entire months to respond back lol.. My natural curiosity with nostalgia/collecting details of the past/etc. (literally if I were born a little earlier I would definitely do scrapbooking or something lol) is very strong, but, alas, not strong enough to beat out the Social Issues Demons apparently
#facebook always does that 'here's a post from this day 8 years ago' thing. and I see old comments interacting#with people and it's so like.. OOOOO~~ where are they now?? what's going on? how much have they changed as people?#how much are they the same? this is fascinating. i should contact them!!' but then it's like... take that to it's logical conclusion though#you would contact them and then IF they even responded it would take you 80 years to respond and then they would#think there was something wrong or that you were trying to be insulting or something. To contact anyone I need to include an 85 page#disclaimer of all of my social issues & mental illness things. 'If i take 3 weeks to reply I promise it has nothing to do with u' etc lol#THIS is why more people need to be into phone calls/voice calls/some form of audio real time communication/etc.#I think one of the main things that's hard about messaging through text for me is it's so unscheduled and open ended#(plus it takes forever if you're talking about anything in detail and gets very long very quickly)#because like you can send a message and then just get a reply whenever. and then you're expected to reply back whenever#so it's like you never know when the response will come or when a new obligation to reply can come up? so it's like this sudden thing with#no outline?? if that makes sense. whereas a phone call is very like 'hello let's schedule a call from 10am - 2pm on thursday'. And you know#EXACTLY when the interaction will start and EXACTLY when it will end and you can plan around it in your schedule easily.#I have the reverse thing of a lot of people (how people don't pick up phone calls/hate calls/only text)#I would literally talk on the phone with a stranger. I would have a discord voice chat with someone I barely know.#if someone I hardly even remember from elementary school asked to have a voice call with me out of nowhere I would do it.#but if a stranger MESSAGED me?? or someone I barely know sent me a TEXT or something?? I will never reply probably#It's just too vague and weird. and you can't read voice tone over text. and the interaction could last forever with no clear end#point and etc. etc. But a call is like. set. established. clear boundaries. you can read the flow of conversation better. rapport. etc. etc#I get that I guess people feel more anonymous or distanced over text?? but you can have fake phone numbers on the computer. or do like disc#rd calls. or zoom without a camera or etc. etc. Also the distance that's present in text is BAD distance because it just means that tone is#not conveyed properly and you will never truly get a sense of the person's conversational vibe or mannerisms or how well you really click.#ANYWAY ghgjh...... I'm so so so interested in concepts of like.. How did that one kid I used to talk to in elementary school#but then they moved away in 5th grade - how did they end up? what are they doing now?? etc. etc. Like despite the severe social anhedonia#and general lack of connection with others I'm just really fascinated in like.. idk. the human development of it all and like#the concept of how we're actually a million different people through the course of our lives ever evolving in different iterations and etc.#PLUS again. i love nostalgia. sometimes old peple you know might remember a shared memory or can tell you about something you forgot#or etc. like it's SUCH A COOL THING in CONCEPT but I am too socially inept generally speaking lol. which people I still talk to today are#familiar with my 'phone call once every few months' communication style. but strangers would just be like... wtf. And I don't blame them#Sure I literally cannot change the physical health + brain issues i have - but also I know enough to not put others through that lol
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@staff you have GOT to fix the prev reblog link, when i click on prev i want to see the post i clicked on, not prev's entire blog. why is this suddenly an issue
#i usually try to adapt when changes occur on tumblr but this is just dumb and impractical and so so sooooo frustrating#i wanna see prev tags#and worst of all now when i wanna go to the og post i can't!#i want to fix a typo i noticed in my own post but i saw it in a reblog so i have to go back to my original post?#well now i can't do that with one click i have to go through my own blog to find my own og post even though it's Right There as a reblog#this is so annoying
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You're tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep in any position you lie in. Every time you turn, Toji accommodates to your new position, but you never last in one position long enough for him to stay asleep.
"Do you not want me to cuddle you or something?" He asks, opening his tired eyes for the nth time that night.
"No, you're good," you respond, turning onto your side, again. He sighs, hoping this will be the position you finally fall asleep in. He latches onto your back, wrapping his arm around you before shutting his eyes. Two minutes later, you're wiggling around, again, turning onto your stomach. Your arms wrap around your pillow, and you rest the side of your face on it. Toji always has to be touching some part of you when he sleeps, so he throws his arm over your back. He clicks his tongue when, once again, you flip onto your back.
"What, baby? Why are you moving around so much?" He's trying not to let his tiredness control his attitude towards you, but you've been doing this for almost half an hour now.
"I can't sleep. I close my eyes and nothing happens. It's just dark," you explain.
"Well, try again, ma. You wake up too early to be going to sleep so late."
You do as he says, and try again. Your arms rest on your stomach and you try to stay as still as possible with your eyes shut. Suddenly, your feet feel too warm and you feel the urge to find a cool spot on the blanket, so you shift your legs. You feel like your head is in an awkward position on your pillow, like you're sinking backwards and your neck is uncomfortable because of it. You feel like turning back onto your side and curling up, so you do just that, letting Toji's arm slide off your chest.
"Shift one more time," he grumbles, turning his body towards your back, again, draping his arm over your waist. He's tired of hearing the sheets rustle with every move you make.
You heed his warning, and stay still for the longest you have in a minute. Toji thinks you may have finally fallen asleep, and feels safe to doze off, as well.
Then, you flip onto your other side, snapping the last string of Toji's patience. Without a single warning, you're being pulled until you're flat on top of him, your face buried in his chest. His arms wrap around you, fastening your body against his and he crosses his legs over yours, securing them. He can feel you fidgeting in his hold, still trying to move.
"Stop, mama," he says, holding you tighter. "Just breathe."
You still and try to focus on the sound of his heartbeat. It's steady, like the rise and fall of his chest. He smells good and his skin is comfortably warm. His arms apply a relaxing amount of pressure on your back. You don't feel unsteady as you remain balanced on top of him. Your eyelids feel heavy and your breathing is replicating the rhythm of his. Your heartbeat is slowing as you calm down and you release all the tension in your body, allowing yourself to go limp. Your eyelids fall shut and all that can be heard are the soft sounds of you breathing through your nose. Both of you finally get to rest.
#toji#fushiguro toji#jjk toji#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen toji#jujutsu toji#toji fushiguro#toji fushiguro x reader#toji x reader#toji x y/n#fushiguro toji x reader#toji x you#toji fluff#jjk fushiguro#jjk x you#jjk scenarios#toji fushiguro x you#jjk#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen scenarios
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getting rafe hooked on dress to impress
my fav thing i’ve ever written i can’t even lie
word count: 1.2k
obx masterlist
you yawned loudly and abnoxiously as you walked into rafe’s bedroom. you kicked your shoes off, grabbing one of rafe’s t-shirts from his drawer, changing out of your uncomfortable clothes. “didn’t think you were coming back, it’s late as fuck.” rafe said, looking at you oddly as he sat up on the bed against the headboard.
“longest fucking day of my life. need to unwind.”
rafe smirked, reaching his whole body over the bed to grab your forearm. "like the sound of that," he mumbles.
you let yourself move toward him, but you groan, “not like that.” rafe momentarily pouts, but doesn’t let go of your arm. in fact, he pulls you closer onto the bed with him urging you to cuddle up into him.
he snakes his arm around you, soft fingers tracing circles into your side. "wanna talk about it?"
you yawn and shake your head, "nah, can we just watch a movie or something?"
rafe nods, grabbing the TV remote from the nightstand. "you don't wanna watch some chick-flick do you?" he asks, grimacing already.
you sigh dramatically, “i guess not. fast and furious?”
rafe obligies, satisfied with your suggestion. you get comfortable on the bed, your head rested on rafe's shoulder and your phone rested on his chest as you scroll through tiktok.
about 20 minutes later, you see a video about the new halloween update on dress to impress and gasp before you can stop yourself. rafe jumps slightly, eyes wide. “jesus christ, what’s wrong?”
"sorry, nothing," you grin apologetically, "can I borrow your laptop though?"
he looks at you like you've lost your mind, but he still grabs his macbook from the nightstand, handing it over to you. you sit up excitedly, leaning up against the headboard.
you open the laptop and sign into your roblox account, side eyeing rafe as he gives you an odd look. "the fuck are you doing?"
"playing a game," you respond innocently.
he raises his eyebrows, "roblox? wheezie used to play that shit.. when she was 8," he says, judging you hardcore.
you glare at him, "you don't understand," you sigh. "just watch me play, it's genuinely fun."
he watches you click on dress to impress, making a disgusted face. "yeah I can't defend you on this one," he says and you shove his shoulder.
"well have you ever played dress to impress?" you ask him.
"obviously not," he says, his sassy side on full display.
"well don't judge then. just watch and i'll let you play a round when i'm done," you say with a smile, patting his cheek softly.
"hell nah," he says, directing his attention back to the movie.
you shake your head, giving up on getting him to play. you start a round, looking around at all the new pieces they added. the theme is holiday for your first round, so of course you do halloween.
you notice rafe's eyes on the computer screen as his curiosity clearly starts to creep back in despite himself. he watches as you piece together combination of a witch hat, spiderweb dress, and dark boots.
“what even is this shit?” he asks, trying to sound nonchalant but clearly intrigued.
you grin, not taking your eyes off the screen since you only have a minute left. “you compete with other people to make the best outfit based on a theme. you'd be pretty good at it, you've got great style," you say, trying to persuade him.
he gives you a look, shaking his head, "sounds dumb as fuck," he says, and you just laugh. he's silent for a moment before turning slightly to have a better view of the screen, "so what you just like... dress them up and shit?"
you nod, watching the time run out. "yes, then everyone votes on each outfit and the top 3 get on the podium. see," you point to the screen, "the voting's starting now."
an outfit that's completely off theme struts down the runway and you grimace, "see like that one's ugly as fuck so i give it a 1. oooh look, this ones mine," you say with a proud smile. "doesn't she look great?"
rafe shrugs, "i guess."
you ended up getting third place, losing to two terrible outfits. you curse under your breath, before turning to him. “you wanna try a round?” you smile, looking up at him.
rafe scoffs, glancing back at the movie, but curiosity gets the better of him. “alright, fine, hand it over.” he takes the laptop.
"okay the theme is beach day," you tell him.
he hums in response, looking around at the clothes aimlessly. "rafe, you gotta pick something that actually matches,” you say, stifling a laugh as he pairs a yellow bikini top with neon green shorts.
"shh, I have a vision," he says, dismissing your words. "wait why the fuck doesn't she have a face?"
"you gotta go to the makeup and hair room, over there," you point at the screen.
he scrolls through the makeup options, finally decided on one. "mhm, she bad ain't she?" you chuckle, knowing rafe is secretly loving this.
time runs out just as he adds the coconut drink, and you see him watching the screen eagerly, waiting for the voting to end. one girl dressed in long pants and a jacket walks out and he looks over at you, disgusted, "this bitch didn't even look at the theme." all you can do is laugh and nod your head in agreement.
when rafe places second, he smirks, looking way too pleased with himself. "ha," he says, "i did better than you."
you roll your eyes. "yeah you're done playing," you say, snatching the laptop back.
the next night, you texted rafe that you were gonna come over after your morning shift and you didn't get a response, which was odd. you let yourself into his house with the key he'd given you. "rafe?" you called out, walking into the living room. "you here?" no response.
you furrowed your eyebrows, walking up the stairs. maybe he was just in his room, you thought, taking a nap or something. you creak open his bedroom door, met with the scene of him sitting on his bed, looking intently at his laptop.
his eyes shoot up to look at you and he slams his laptop closed, guilty look in his eye. you raise your eyebrows, "what were you doing?" you question him, walking toward the bed.
he rubs the back of his neck with his hand, shaking his head. "nothin.'"
your eyes narrow, "were you watching porn?" you joke, sitting down next to him.
he sighs, "worse.." he trails off. he mentally debates for a minute, before pulling his laptop back into his lap, opening it slowly to reveal dress to impress on full display.
your hand shoots to cover your mouth, laugh escaping your lips anyway. all he does is glare at you, "this is your fucking fault."
you lean into him with a laugh, "I know I know, sorry. don't be embarrassed, rafe." you press a kiss to his lips.
as you kiss him, you can’t help but laugh again, glancing at his screen. "okay wait that's actually a cute outfit. you're getting good," you nudge him, "fashionista," you add quietly with a chuckle.
he looks at you straight-faced, "I'm only playing this dumbass game because you dragged me into it. i was just bored so,” he gestures to the screen.
“sure, rafe, whatever you say,” you tease, cuddling up beside him. "feel free to keep playing, don't stop at my expense."
he scoffs, but gives in and restarts the game.
you wrap your arm around his middle and watch as he puts together outfit after outfit, the grin rarely leaving your face.
you just love your little fashionista.
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requests are OPEN 💌
#rafe cameron#obx#rafe cameron imagines#outer banks fluff#rafe cameron fic#drew starkey imagines#outer banks imagines#obx imagines#outer banks#rafe imagine#rafe fic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe outer banks#rafe#rafe x reader#rafe obx#outerbanks rafe#obx smut#rafe smut#dress to impress#obx season 4#drew starkey#rafe cameron x you#fluff#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron fluff#drew starkey fluff#obx fanfic#outerbanks x reader#outer banks season 3
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Fatherhood. P2
Single dad!Cregan Stark x reader
Summary: The reader follows through with her marriage proposal. (I literally cannot say more without spoiling stuff)
Part 1
Masterlist
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"Father?" Her voice carried through the hall.
Bolton turned to give his daughter his entire attention.
"The carriage outside. Have we a visitor?" She asked meekly.
He sighed. "Afraid not."
Her head tilted. "An empty carriage? Who would ever send such-" She found herself stopping at the realization. "It's for me, isn't it?"
Bolton's lip tightened. "It is."
"Ah," she noted wearily. "I'll… I'll collect my things, I suppose."
He nodded, though his heart ached somewhere deep inside to see her go. "Best that you do. Can't have ya forgetting yer lavender, eh?"
She managed a smile. "No. I couldn't bare it."
"Go on, then."
She gave one last look before retreating up to her room.
…
She thanked the driver earnestly as she stepped in, watching the door shut behind her.
This was nicer than she anticipated it being.
She leaned back when the carriage began to move and started to close her eyes before pausing at the sight of a small sealed letter.
She picked it up.
The Stark sigil.
Her fingers shook as she opened it.
My dear lady, I do hope you'll excuse the manner in which you've received this letter. Your father seems to be a man of pageantry and show, keeping you in the dark. I implore you to stop the carriage for a surprise of sorts. - An eager father
She reread the letter a few times before daring to do as it said.
Tap.Tap.Tap. against the ceiling of the carriage.
It came to an abrupt halt.
She paused with her hand still raised at the ceiling. Her ears listened intently for any noise at all.
The door soon opened and light poured further into the carriage. A hand shot out and she took it, stepping out.
When she stepped out and her eyes adjusted, the sight of her hand in Lord Stark's threw her off. "Lord Stark…?"
Cregan's bright smile filled her sight. "Hello, sweet girl."
She looked around, noticing that Cregan's horse stood behind the carriage. "What is this? A-Are you trying to save me?" She asked with a confused brow.
"Am I- what?" His grip on her hand tightened. "No. No. Of course not."
She frowned. "Excuse my bluntness, my lord. Why are you here then?"
He took a step back to collect himself, and a bright smile came over his face. "Y/n." He took her other hand as well. "Who do you imagine wished for your hand so ardently?"
It clicked then and her eyes widened. "You-"
"-Indeed," he beamed.
Her mouth laid agape. "W-Why did you not tell me?"
He rubbed his thumbs across her knuckles. "I had thought your father would, but alas."
"I fear I've embarrassed myself then-"
"-anything but." He persisted, "You've proven to me just how loyal you are. That's a trait that is not easily learned."
"You truly wish for my hand?" She asked.
He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. "Of course. Now come, Rickon awaits us in Winterfell."
Her eyes lit up. "Then we must go." She moved to the carriage, then paused when she noticed Cregan's lack of movement. "You are not traveling with me?"
He frowned. "A northman does not fair well in carts and carriages. We're made for horses."
She hummed. "Very well." She turned on her heel and began to walk to the horse.
He shifted his weight to his other foot. "What're you doing?"
She looked over her shoulder. "What? Think I can't manage one horse ride?"
An amused smile came over his face and he shook his head in acceptance as he strode over to her.
Did he have to lift her onto the horse? Yes. Did he have the reigns the entire time? Yes. Did she know a single thing about horses? No.
Did he point it out or complain once? Never.
…
The young woman had spent more time with Rickon than it seemed with Cregan for the time being.
Sure, their wedding was still a few weeks out, but it was a strange thing to see a woman so infatuated with a son that was not of her blood.
"A horse? Yes," she grinned as she tapped the wooden horse on the ground as if it was galloping. "It's a mighty horse, isn't it? Very strong. Much like your papa's."
Rickon moved to his small chest of toys and pulled out another wooden thing, quickly moving to sit by her and do the same thing with his toy as hers.
"A direwolf? Horses gallop. See?" She replicated her motion. "But direwolves run. Here." She held her hand over his and lightly moved it to tap at a smoother and lighter rhythm. "Horses move with their mind. Wolves move with their hearts. That's what makes them predators."
Rickon tries to replicate the motion she made. It was sloppy, but it was clear that he got the idea.
"That's wonderful. You're a clever boy," she preened at him.
"Clever as his father?" Cregan grinned from the doorway.
She gasped and turned, not expecting to see him while she was seated on the cold stone floor. "Cregan-"
He walked further in and knelt on the other side of them. "What have we here? A hungry wolf? Or is he friendly?"
She laughed. "All of our animals are friendly. Aren't they, Rickon?" When he nodded, she continued. "Wolves aren't hungry within these walls, Cregan."
His eyes were glued to hers, an obvious heat moving through his body. "Perhaps there is one."
Her head shot up and met his gaze, a pink hue coming to her cheeks. "I-"
Rickon's eyes had watered, and the boy let out a sniffle.
The tension was quickly broken, for both now focused on the boy.
"My boy," Cregan hummed. "No need for tears. I didn't mean that. There's no wolf besides Dark Watch. And she's no evil thing, is she?"
The boy finally let out a real cry, clearly terrified at the thought of a hungry wolf in Winterfell.
Cregan held his arms out, ready to receive the boy's wet cheek upon his chest. But it never came.
He heard her soft gasp as Rickon launched himself against her chest in desperation. She slowly wrapped her arms around him and began to rock him. "Your father didn't mean it, my little Rickon. It was only a jest."
Cregan wanted to be mad. He felt that maybe he should be. But there was no angry bone in his body.
His son had found a comfort besides him.
He believed he found himself falling further for her, if that was even possible.
…
"CREGAN!"
His head shot up from the letters sprawled across the council table. "Excuse me."
He didn't wait for permission from the council members before he ran out of the room and a fast pace.
The man pushed himself to run down the stairs, through the corridors that felt like forever, until he came upon his son's room.
"Cre-Oh. Oh, you missed the most wonderful thing," his betrothed beamed.
Relief filled him. "I thought you dead from the sounds."
"My heart is very much alive," she claimed. She held Rickon on her hip and Cregan couldn't help but imagine her doing so with his seed growing inside her.
He had to physically shake the thought away.
"W-What is it?"
She pulled Rickon closer to focus and her voice lowered. "Pa-pa," she enunciated. "P-ah p-uh."
She looked expectantly at the boy who only stared back.
"Oh, Cregan. I promise he said it. I truly do!"
He shook his head with a sigh. "I believe you. I do. But I've not heard him speak. If it wasn't for his cries, I'd fear he had no voice at all."
"Be easy on him. He's learning."
"He should have already," Cregan sighed. "I fear it's my fault."
Her head tilted and she shifted the boy. "I don't see how it could be."
Cregan fully sat at that point, crossing his legs lazily. "His mother died on the birthing bed, you know."
She nodded. "I remember."
"I was in shambles after that. Couldn't dare to look at him." He ran a hand through his hair as if brushing the memory away. "Took some time to get over it. And by then, well, the damage was done."
Her heart ached at his honesty. "There were wet nurses and servants to help though, surely?"
"Yes, but none are the same as a father's touch."
Her body grew warm, and not just from the child in her arms. "Indeed."
Cregan leaned forward and brushed his hand over the back of the boy's head. "He's a good child. I'm glad he has you."
She looked up at the man and admired the genuine smile that was over his face.
…
The weeks following were easy. Breaking fast with Cregan, followed by a walk through the halls to help her grow confidence in her home. Then hours in the library where she read or stitched. A servant brought small foods to tide her over to supper. Then supper with both Cregan and Rickon. The poor boy had to sit on his knees to even see over the table.
"No, no," Cregan laughed heartily. "You were terrified, my love!"
"I was n-" She couldn't help but brake into a smile. "Well, you're an intimidating man at first sight!"
"Am I still?" He asked as a tease, but it was mixed with something else. "Do I frighten you?"
Her breath escaped in a short pant, overcome with the thought of what being his wife would truly entail.
He was frightening to everyone. Firm and strong, not easily swayed. Cold and forbidding.
"No."
"No?"
"Not at all."
He gained a smirk. "How so?"
Her eyes shifted between him and his son. "You're softer than you wish to seem."
A fire was lit behind his eyes, and she knew that if Rickon wasn't there, they may have been doing something entirely different.
"Smart girl."
She preened at his praise.
…
"What about-"
"-I have it handled."
Her head tilted. "Fine. And th-"
"-It's been done. You worry too much."
"One last thing. T-"
"You intelligently foolish woman," he sighed as he took her shoulders in his large hands. "I have done it all. You need only do your part."
She forced herself to take a deep breath. "You wonderful man."
"And you, Lady Bolton? Are you not a wonder as well?" He grinned.
"Lady Stark," she corrected him.
…
She fit into the role of lady with grace and ease.
As if there was never such a prefect fit.
"Come," she beckoned Rickon along. "Your father is expecting us, and we shan't keep him waiting."
Upon seeing them enter the council room, Cregan's gloomy demeanor was instantly lightened. He stood up. "You're late."
She hums. "Do excuse us. Lord Rickon was practicing his jumping and who am I to stop him?" She teased
"Ah," he acknowledged when they got close enough. He bent down and picked up the boy. Once Rickon was held firmly against him, Cregan tilted his head down and kissed his wife deeply.
She pulled away with a fond giggle and red cheeks.
Cregan was an unashamed man, kissing his wife in such a manner in front of his councilmen. "Sit," he gestured to her chair. "Let us begin."
…
"I'll never know how to thank you," Cregan remarked quietly one day.
The three had managed to get away from Winterfell for an afternoon. Seated on the dead grass, she watched Rickon spend his time chasing a bird that was so far in the air, he'd never have a chance, even if he could fly behind it.
"Thank me? For what?"
"For this. For being able to live in such ease," he said as he gestured out to the field.
"I should be thanking you," she hummed as she reached out to their basket and ripped of a small piece of bread, eating it.
He leaned to her and placed a sweet kiss to her cheek. "Never."
She giggled and ripped another, now turning to him. "Fatherhood suits you, my love." Her hand came up to his lips.
He opened his mouth, smirking as his wife's hand pushed the bread between his lips. Her fingers rest there as a look comes into her eyes.
Cregan chewed the bread then kissed at her fingers. "And you, you wonderful mother."
"PAPA!"
Their heads shot up at the sound.
"Rickon?" Cregan's eyes widened. "RICKON?" He stood in a hurry and his eyes scanned the field.
He ran out when he saw where his son sat in the dirt. "Son, what are you doing? Gods, are you well?"
Rickon looked over his shoulder. In his hand was a flower. He held it up.
"Oh." Cregan bent down. "You scared me, boy. Yes, yes, that's a lovely flower."
Rickon stood up on his still pudgy legs and moved passed his father.
Y/n had been watching and had slowly starting walking to them. When Rickon neared, she bent down. "Did you speak?" She asked softly.
Rickon held the flower out to her.
"For me? Oh, you sweet, sweet boy!" She picked him up and spun him around. "I've never been more proud."
Cregan had joined them at that point. He pulled his wife into his hold. He kissed the crown of her head and whispered in her hair, "Thank you for this. Thank you, my girl."
The family stood there in the field, enjoying every bit of their lives together.
...............................................................
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#fanfiction#house of the dragon fanfiction#cregan stark x reader#game of thrones imagine#cregan stark x y/n#game of thrones fanfiction#game of thrones x y/n#cregan stark x you#cregan stark imagine#game of thrones x reader#cregan x reader#cregan stark#hotd cregan#cregan fanfiction#cregan x you#house of the dragon fanfic#house of the dragon
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don't you want to be a cult leader? - danyal al ghul au
this is mostly a joke post but i thought it was funny and had to share so--
his first mistake was, obviously, inheriting his father's inability to see an injustice and stand still. -- actually, danyal's first mistake was his lair being so big. a mountainous island with a large temple in the center resembling his old home in Nanda Parbat? With sprawling foliage and rivers and streams and waterfalls galore? What was he going to do with all that space? Let it go to waste? He had plants there! Native trees of the ghost zone growing from the soil! He couldn't let it all be left unchecked!
So naturally after helping a fellow teenage assassin ghost -- who he later learns is named Akihiko, -- from Walker of all people, he sent them over to hang low at his lair until it was safe enough for them to wander around the Zone. Walker couldn't get through Danyal's astrofield if his life depended on it, and trust him -- he's tried. Danny was clearing out debris from his stupid transport vans for weeks.
Honestly it wasn't so bad, he and Aki really quickly became fast friends and Danny loves having a sparring partner close to his level again -- he hasn't had this much fun fighting since he left the League. Aki was very dedicated and levelheaded, the both of them clicked really well because of it.
Nonono, the real trouble began after Danyal met some long-passed League members and allowed them to come join his island as well. Apparently they had made a few enemies of the zone, and maybe Danyal still felt some loyalty to the League. He couldn't just let them be left to rot. Their zealotry could be overlooked so long as they kept it contained and helped him take care of his island.
And it.. snowballs from there? He meets a teen squire aptly calling himself Ambroise -- whether that was his living name or not is yet to be seen -- who died during feudal france, who is just about as dramatic and passionate as every french stereotype makes them out to be. He calls Danyal "my moon and great muse" -- which is both flattering and little uncomfortable, but Danyal's grown up in the League as the Grandson of the Demon Head, he is used to mild worship. he passes it off as nothing more, nothing less. -- and while his energy is overwhelming on the worst of days, he helps Danny draw out of his shell more in ways that Sam and Tucker still struggle with.
Him and Aki butt heads a lot, but the two seem to hold the other in at least some positive regard, so Danny doesn't worry too much about them fighting while he's gone. It only becomes a mild issue when Aki also begins calling Danny "my moon". It's a little sweet, so Danyal brushes it off.
Then he takes in a troupe of ghosts some time after he defeats Pariah Dark and they begin calling him "great one" just as the yetis do in the far frozen. This is where he meets the twins -- a pair of sibling ghosts who call themselves Trixie and Missy (short for Trick and Mislead) -- who aren't quite as passionate as Ambroise but more energetic than Aki. Eventually they also start calling Danyal "my moon" and attach themselves to his hip, even within the living. They like to hide in his shadow and cause trouble for the rest of the students. He makes sure they don't hurt anyone.
He's pretty sure Aki is jealous, same with Ambroise, but he can't be too certain other than the fact that they become much more lingering (re: clingy) whenever he visits the island.. Something he's trying to do much more often these days due to the increasing amount of people living there now. Since when did he become so popular?
Then there's Pēnelópeia from the Greater Athens, who ran away from home and joined his Island after he ran into her while she was being chased by Skulker -- and he's pretty sure the reason was because of her chimeric appearance. Her strange eyes and mismatched wings and lion's tail and talons. She assimilates into his friend group very easily, she gets along well with Ambroise and Trixie and Danny usually finds the three of them climbing the trees to pluck the most fruit from the top. They can fly and he knows it, but they prefer to climb.
Then finally there's silent poet Akkara who comes from ancient mesopotamia, who gets along most with Aki -- which is no surprise there considering their similar personality dispositions. he watches Aki and Danyal fight each other and leaves comments on this or that that he notices. He writes Danyal poems on clay tablets and leaves them by his room.
They're one big mismatched group of outcasts, and Danny's got the other ghosts on his island to tend to, because they're living on his island and he wants to be hospitable even if he struggles with that. But he spends the most of his time with them.
Sam and Tucker are making fun of him. Tucker jokingly tells him 'careful Danny, at this rate you're gonna start a cult'. Danny really wishes he had taken that joke more seriously.
He just. keeps. collecting people. Wayward souls lost in the zone, looking for shelter or refuge from something or other -- whether that be another hostile ghost, or a past afterlife, or just a purpose. Danyal finds them, he takes them in, offers them a place on his island until they are ready to leave. Many seldom do. He's not complaining -- he has the space, and it feels like it's only ever growing.
His close friends, his "inner circle" as he's heard the others call them, keep insistently calling him "my moon". He starts calling them his stars, because then it only feels fair. They're his stars, this is his constellation. It becomes a thing; little star halos begin forming behind their heads, picking them out from the rest. He loves them so much, it's hard to place. Sam and Tucker are also his stars, but they reside in the living realm, they're his tie to Life. Meanwhile, his friends here know what it's like to be dead, and sometimes its nice to relate.
Those living on his island keep calling him "Great One" and he's beginning to notice zealotry in their care for his island. He really, deeply appreciates it. His close friends gain nicknames -- as his stars, it's only natural for him to pick them out from the cluster in the skies. Akihiko, his Sirius and bright star. Trix and Missy, Castor and Pollux, the twins and troublemakers. Ambroise, his zealous Antares and close friend. Penelopeia, chimeric and loyal Vega. And Akkara, his Arcturus and strength.
It's ridiculous how long it takes for him to notice; he is, of course, a deadly trained assassin. He is meant to be observant -- and normally he is! But somehow this becomes a blind spot. One that becomes too big to be dealt with by the time he realizes it.
He should've noticed when Aki, his Sirius, stood beside him one day while Danyal looked over his island and saw the sprawling spirits carrying on about their afterlife and bowing to him as they saw him, and said: "I looked down into the depths when I met you; I couldn't measure it." They aren't one for flowing prose, it took him so off guard he was silent for over a minute before he finally spoke.
Danyal should've recognized devotion for what it is, and yet he didn't. He should've recognized it when Antares began spouting praises about him, crowing about his radiance and resplendence to the heavens. He just brushed it off as Ambroise being Ambroise. He should've recognized it when Trix and Missy nearly broke Dash's leg after he knocked Danyal's books out of his hands, he excused it as them being protective. Of them coming from times where such violence may have been customary -- after all, that's what he used to be like. What he was still like, sometimes, when his emotions nearly got the better of him.
He should've noticed it when the people living on his island followed his word like gospel, looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky. When his friends gifted him a shawl with the moon phases delicately embroidered into it, with silver, shimmering thread and moving stars lovingly stitched into it. Their constellations seen clear as day in the dark fabric. When he found small shrines dedicated to him -- but they lacked any image of him beyond stones carved to look like moons, so he ignored it. When the religious imagery began popping up.
He really, really should've noticed it when a bunch of cultists accidentally summoned Antares, and Antares had turned to him when he arrived and called them heretics. But he was so centered on the fact that they had kidnapped one of his stars, that he hadn't paid much attention to what Ambroise had said.
Sages say that faith is blind, they should also say faith in you is even blinder.
It really only hits him one afternoon while he's sitting in Sam's room studying with Tucker, Missy and Trixie lounging at his feet, Aki sat on his right, Penelopeia braiding his hair, Ambroise draped against him, and Akkara lurking over him. Its one of the rare few times they're all in one room together.
It hits him like a bolt of lightning. He looks up from his textbook. "Oh Ancients," he says in no amounting shock. Everyone looks up to him.
"I've become my grandfather."
#dpxdc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dpxdc crossover#dp x dc#dp x dc crossover#danyal al ghul au#dpxdc au#dp x dc au#dpxdc prompt#ive been playing cult of the lamb recently and you can tell#anyways i thought this was funny to think about. its specifically danyal al ghul bc that makes it even funnier#tfw you accidentally become a cult leader. rip to you danny you have a cult following#not at ALL an accurate depiction of a cult but i still think its funny. innaccurate cult depictions. ur in too deep to change it now danno#sam and tucker: hey dude... this is a cult | danny still learning how to People: what. no. these are all my friends and refugees.#his inner circle are all Insane about him they just show it in different ways. Sirius is as equally zealous as the rest they just don't#show it as much. which has mistakenly convinced danyal that they are the more logical one. no danny. they would kill for you#danny: i am being hospitable | sam: you created a cult | danny: i am being hosPITABLE#i dont like ghost king aus but i love danny being in positions of power it just has to feel earned. 'accidental kingdom acquisition' is my#favorite trope it just has to be done correctly. 🫵 build that bitch up with your bare hands and not realize until its too late you fool#'becoming a world power by accident and im in too deep to back out now'#danyal. a raised assassin (has no threshold for normal behavior): *sees utter devotion towards him* yeah this is fine and normal.#danyal: yk i dont see this ending horribly. *goes and collects more followers* yeah this is totally cool. welcome to the constellation#danyal: *saves a few people and houses them in his lair* (everyone liked that [to a worrying degree actually])#his inner circle: my moon! | danny: my stars :]#danny: ive become my grandfather. | danny: ... | danny: idk how to feel about that honestly.#those poor cultists that kidnapped antares were subjected to a 3hr tangent about 'the radiance of the Moon and his resplendent generosity'#before danyal found him and got him home. who were the cultists summoning? who knows! but they got Objectively the Worst out of the#constellation to summon by accident. actually they're all bad there's no picking who. they're all various amounts of Unhinged Danny just#Never Realizes It because he is also Unhinged and thinks some of this shit is normal.#like yeah thats totally normal behavior he has no questions whatsoever. this seems like Typical People Stuff.
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Integrity
Newjeans Hanni x male reader smut
Happy Hanni Day!
Masterlist word count: 6,048 Kofi(donations/commissions)
It's a really long way to travel, and doubly so when you get fuck all from it. It's not like you were after anything ground-breaking—it's just a fashion show, after all.
It's about as close as you get to 'phoning it in' as a journalist. A few copy-and-paste interviews to accompany some snapshots of the season's latest designs. A couple hundred words, cut and run. Who wore what dress and who wore it the tightest. You could probably type most of it out on the plane without ever leaving your seat, and the public will still eat it up.
Somewhere over Austria, you mulled over that very fact.
Four days later, somewhere over Hungary, you're scrambling to do exactly that.
The whole thing is going fine. Fine, right up until it isn't. Maybe it's the sound of your fingers on the keys or the pocket of air that rocked the plane in that familiar gut-wrenching way, but her eyes are opening slowly. She's mouthing something, her fingers reaching around behind her, under the thin layer of blankets she is enveloped in.
"Are we there yet?" she murmurs, fishing her phone out of her blanket, sleepiness and all.
"Not even close," you say as flatly as you can, returning to a few words you'd been rolling over in your head for the better part of thirty minutes.
"What are you writing about?" She asks from down on her fully reclined seat that's moonlighting as a bed.
"You," you say with a small laugh, not looking away from your laptop.
"What about me?" Hanni's phone lights up, cutting through the darkness and finally making her face visible. The cabin is in full black-out since it's the middle of the night, and the dividers in first-class keep the two of you isolated.
"Your clothes, mostly. Generic fashion show stuff. Doesn't really matter. I put the names Gucci and Hanni Pham in an article and it sells itself. Instant clicks. S'like... two baits for one fish."
"You say that like it's a bad thing."
"Probably is," you reply, knowing full well that there's little to be proud of in here. It's all surface level after all, since adding the things you know now might raise a few eyebrows. All the investigative journalism you've done over the past few days isn't exactly something you can write about. Though you can't deny it, an article about the beauty mark right below her waistline would probably send the masses into a frenzy.
You can hear her tapping on her screen a few more times, and with the silence in the first-class cabin at night, you find yourself focusing on those sounds more than your writing. Tap. Tap. Tap. Pause. Sigh. Tap. Tap.
"What is it?"
"Can't sleep," comes her whispered reply as she pushes herself up with that strange grunt you often hear her make, propping her pillow against the bulkhead and stretching out.
"Drugs not working?"
She shakes her head. "Not doing much."
"If my typing is too loud I can stop—"
"No, you focus. I'll find something to keep myself distracted." She locks her phone again and disappears into the darkness again, her soft breathing almost inaudible. Minutes go by. You manage a full two paragraphs before hearing her moving in the darkness again.
"Hanni?"
"Shh."
The slow shifting goes on for another few seconds, and in the darkness, you can make out the movement of her blanket as she slides off the chair down to your feet. What hits you next is her fingers reaching into your waistband.
"Hann—"
"Quiet," she whispers back. You quickly pick up the laptop from resting on your lap before her attempts to undress you can send it crashing to the floor. You're quick to place it on her seat and close its cover, out of her reach just in time before she slides your pants down.
She doesn't say anything, just lets you lay there in silence as her fingers guide you into her mouth. It is almost unnerving how used to it you have become in such a short time—how easy it has become for you, a supposed professional, to mix business and pleasure to this degree.
Hanni goes on unperturbed, wetting you between plump lips that trail up and down your length.
There is nothing you can do at this point but give in and just throw your head back. You grow harder under her touch and her tongue and judging by the way she grows more aggressive with her movements, Hanni is starting to enjoy herself as well. You can't quite make out her face, but you already know the look she's wearing. Can practically see it in your mind's eye; the look of wide-eyed desire as she takes you further in, lips rounding out over teeth as she welcomes every inch you give her until her cheeks cave in from sucking.
It's fucking burned into your brain. You've seen it so much, among so many other filthy expressions, you aren't sure if you could ever forget it.
Your hand reaches down blindly in the darkness until it finds the back of her head. The mere fact that the both of you are sitting on this plane hundreds of miles above the ground is instantly forgotten, fading out from consciousness and sense as she holds on, massaging your balls with one hand.
You let yourself lay there like this, fingers tangled in her hair, cock buried in her mouth. The thought of pulling her up and reciprocating is never far from your mind, but her grip on your hips is certain. This is all her right now. She's in charge.
She does not lack the pace to prove it.
Her head bobs up and down in the dark, tongue guiding you further in with every motion, lips slipping further down along your shaft, saliva pooling at your base. Her humming is growing—you can't hear it, but you can feel it. It resonates all the way through you, down the aching hardness she keeps stroking with her tongue, and even further to fuel that tension building in your lower stomach.
"Holy fuck," you curse under your breath, voice catching in your throat, lost in the motion of the plane's droning vibrations and her eager motions.
She pops you from her mouth, stroking your cock with a twist of a wrist and something she is doing with her tongue at the tip. As your eyes begin to adjust, you can see that spit has mixed with precum, dribbling down and over the back of her knuckles. It's lewd and over the top and everything that Hanni Pham, an innocent idol, pretends not to be.
"What? You want me to stop?"
"Fuck no," you whisper back, heart pumping in your ears. The feeling of her strokes, suddenly more controlled and tense without the benefit of her mouth is as jarring as it is fleeting.
"Didn't think so." With that, she brings her head back down to take you in her mouth again, hot breaths hitting the spit-slick surface of your dick. It's dirty and clumsy, messy and wet, and each time she swallows you, your entire body shudders with pleasure, coiling every muscle and feeling it climb upward until your stomach goes tight and you find yourself pushing her down, further, faster, until she is sucking what little air she has.
You are wound tight. Agonising, torturous tension pulling ever outward from your centre with each motion she makes. Every twitch of her tongue—fuck, does she work her tongue—spurs some sort of response down to the very tips of your toes.
It's a complete relapse. Back to four days ago, in the back of the car, with nothing but a divider between you and the driver. Cumming inside Hanni's pretty mouth and feeling her swallow every bit, then going on like nothing happened.
-
There's usually not a lot of enthusiasm for an interview. You have spent the whole morning being shrugged off by star after star after star. To them, they're there to look pretty. To show face and represent their brands. Answers are pre-written garbage to be regurgitated over and over like everyone is sharing the same stupid fucking tongue.
Then there's little miss backless-top. Denim jeans and a shirt with frills that barely keeps her modesty. Big, brown eyes and a smile that fills her whole face. Add her vibrance and energy and she really gets your journalistic gears turning. There's something fresh about her. How when you approach her, she engages you in a conversation like you're an actual person and not just some cardboard cut-out of a journalist.
Hanni Pham knows her shit. It's part of the training. She handles media with all the grace of someone born to do it and the energy of someone who loves it. So not only does she give you answers there and then, but when you make the request to sit down with her later and get all you need to do a whole feature on her, she's quickly turning to the powers that be to make it happen.
She should have been a ten-minute addendum. An hourglass figure strutting and posing and laughing her pretty little ass off for cameras for the adoring public. Instead, Hanni fucking Pham, you've got her. For hours.
So you sit down in a quiet little room you managed to reserve with the company card, and she's right across from you, with two glasses of water and a notepad on a table in an otherwise empty room.
"Is this going to be recorded?" She asks first, though looks sceptical and unprepared.
"Normally, yes. But I would prefer us to be a little more comfortable. I'm going to take notes, that's all."
"I like that." She claps, like there's an imaginary audience watching, even if you're the only one there. "So, what are we covering?"
"Everything. To start," you shift a little closer to the table. "Think of this being more about you rather than what you're wearing."
She gives you a little bit of a quizzical look.
"I know. Fashion show. Just, work with me here. The Gucci brand gets the clicks, I want to introduce those clickers to the girl wearing the clothes."
Hanni nods, her eyes light up a little and you can't help but notice how she is really fucking adorable. Up close, she's even prettier. It throws you off for a second as you bring up the notepad. The blank pages stare up at you—mock you. Where do you even begin?
"We met briefly earlier, and you're standing alongside stars from many industries and the lead designer at Gucci."
"Yes," she smiles politely. "That was exciting. Kind of surreal, really."
"So what does it take to be who you are? A girl of Vietnamese blood, born in Melbourne, working in South Korea and travelling to Europe for fashion shows?"
"Uhm, like, honestly?" She shifts in her seat. "Really a lot of hard work. Endless and stressful and never-ending hard work. You know? From singing and dancing, to the language lessons and the dieting and working out. It needs hard work and, well, a lot of luck too."
"You make your own luck." You nod, before jotting down into your notepad.
She tilts her head in response. "I suppose so. That's very quotable if you want. I made my own luck by working hard."
"And yet you're still young, what, turning twenty?"
"Just." Hanni nods.
"Barely twenty and making waves. Do you still feel like you have so much more to give?"
"Oh fuck yeah," she quickly confirms. "Wait, don't write that down."
"Oh... fuck... yeah." You sound out the words as you pretend to write them in the notepad.
"Hey!" Hanni laughs, and it's beautiful. It fills the room and just makes her glow with warmth. "Cut me some slack."
"Alright. Alright. So is this what you envisioned? Being twenty and being here?"
"You mean in this room with you?"
You laugh too. The jokes come so naturally to her.
"I'm happy where I am, it really was always my dream."
"To be in this room with me?"
"Fuck you," she laughs. "But, in a way, yes. I wouldn't be here if I didn't achieve my dream, would I?"
"That's very true. Then what is next for you?"
"There's no end goal." Hanni tilts her head. You follow her hand as it passes through her hair. She's studying you just like you are studying her. "I don't think I'll ever sit back and say 'that's enough.' That's not who I am."
"Ambitious. The question now is what are you chasing?"
"Is that you asking or the article?"
"Both," you say with a wry smile.
"For the article: I want to tour the world, keep improving and working hard. Release more music."
You scribble down a few notes and then click the top of the pen. "And off the record?"
"To spend a little more time focusing on myself. Time is fleeting. I should try and enjoy it while it lasts."
"You're young, pretty and successful. You have plenty of opportunity to do just that."
"Is that flirting?" she jokes, cocking her brow with a seductive smile.
"I'm just stating facts. I'm married to the truth." You gesture to your notepad. "So let's get back on the record, shall we?"
-
One delayed layover later and you're back in the air, and after your brief break to let Hanni drain you into her throat, you managed to get back to finishing up the article, so for the final stretch, the two of you are lying together in one of the first-class beds, and the conversation kept going.
"How are you single?" she's asking, while you're spooning her.
"Mostly because of my job. Definitely the baggage and constant travelling. Takes a special woman to not hate this."
"Sounds like idol life. I know so many idols who try to date but you just never have the time to see each other. We tour constantly and are always on the road. A long day of practising and comeback planning and comeback filming and comeback rehearsing, and more hours of sleep and eating to prep for the next comeback, you're always too exhausted."
"Such a shame." You lower the blanket that's covering her bare chest. Her breasts fill your palm as you caress them, gently. "A pretty thing like you deserves so much better than empty hotel rooms."
"Flirt," she playfully chastises, pressing her ass to your crotch before sliding forward to give you some friction, grinning at you over her shoulder. "These past few days, all the sex, I'd be lying if I said I couldn't get used to this."
It's a sentiment so heavily shared, that even now you're thinking about how easy it would be to pin her onto her back and mount her. It isn't easy to shake the thought when her body is practically inviting you inside her.
You're asking instead, still exploring her naked form, "How do you overcome the needs?"
"Other ways..." Hanni replies through closed eyes, her cheeks blushing. "Toys. Helps and hurts. They're no real substitute."
You run your hand over her toned stomach, heading between her thighs and gently prying them open. And there she is. Right fucking there, wet and waiting for you. Your finger glides over her lips and runs the full length of her, and she strains to contain a gentle moan. The problem is, Hanni is really fucking loud, and the walls of this pod are paper thin.
"I want you again," she whispers, and it's a real fucking dilemma.
She guides your cock through the folds of her pussy and leans back her head as she takes it. Fuck, it feels so good being back inside her. Wet and tight and made to grip. A small whimper escapes her when you are in deep, which she tries to swallow.
"You gotta be quiet," you tell her, while all but refusing to move inside her.
"I can be quiet," she grinds against you, but you're not convinced, and with a firm grasp of her jaw, you pull her closer.
"Can you?" you speak under her ear. "Can the oh-so-talented Hanni Pham control herself?"
She lets out another trembling little sound of pleasure while pushing herself onto your shaft. "I think so. All I know is you need to—yeah, right there. Yes." She closes her eyes and tries to stifle that deep groan of enjoyment.
You hush her before it gets too loud with a hand over her mouth. Tentatively, you begin moving, an aching slow journey backward and forward. As tight as her cunt is around your dick, the movement becomes easy. Dragging more pleasure from both of you and as she rolls her hips again, grinding against the motion, the whimpering returns.
"Hanni," you scold gently, pushing further into her with each stroke. "Shhh."
She mouths an 'I can't' into your hand which elicits a laugh from you and turns a smirk into a smile. You're rutting against her ass, savouring the feeling of your hips hitting her soft flesh. Ample curves along with a narrow waist begging you to embrace her. A pretty little thing taking all your cock and urging you on. It's hard not to go harder. "Need you."
"Careful what you wish for," you whisper as she tries to lean back her head in bliss.
Her tongue brushes your knuckles, and the soft sweep feels like a warm, wet invitation to probe further. A few seconds of uncertainty follows, and then her mouth closes around the tips of your fingers and starts to suck. Sharing the same excitement that has gotten the better of you the past few days of endless debauchery.
You sink your fingers deeper. She sucks harder, her moans stifled behind her pursed lips. Anywhere but here and you would throw her face down on the mattress, fuck her into a state of bliss. Make her beg for you and claw the bedsheets. Such an innocent girl, a girl who should have stayed wrapped in silk and lace, but who demands you take her, just a moment longer, just a bit rougher, and how can you refuse a beauty like that?
Just as Hanni settles and relaxes, her body is dragged into tense peaks of delight. Tiny gasps leak from around your fingers as you thrust deeper. She chokes as she orgasms, digging her nails into the arm that is holding her close, her face going bright pink. Sweat on her temples, on her chest. An earthly aroma of wet skin and hot breaths. She swears and curses the pleasure as you pump your orgasm between her thighs.
You fill her. For a while, you are one, grinding together in mutual fulfilment, breathing heavily and lost in your actions. The mess you're making runs from her sweet cunt, down her thigh, onto the bed.
The rush leaves the both of you exhausted. Hanni does nothing to resist you pulling out and emptying the last few drops over her ass. It is all over as quick as it began. It comes with a strange realisation of how natural it all feels to cum inside Hanni Pham.
-
It's not often that someone you interview not only takes your card, but doesn't immediately throw it away, and actually uses the number on there. You're in the back of a cab when it rings. Today's show has just about finished and while you didn't quite manage to snag another interview like the one you did with Hanni, it has been a good day.
"Did you get enough to write about?" is the first question she asks when you answer.
"I got a few bits here and there. Some surface-level stuff from others, but you gave me the marquee piece. I'll fluff up what I have with the spec sheets released and I'm sure it'll be a nice little exclusive."
"That makes me sound important," she giggles.
"You're a fucking celebrity, of course you are important."
"No need to swear."
"Apologies." There's a momentary pause. You let it linger on the call and soon enough, Hanni's laugh fills the silence.
"I'm kidding. Keep up that energy,"
"So, why are you calling? Usually, when I get a call it's to recant some statement or explain a misquote. Did I make a mess of something?"
"Well, not yet. But I have some ideas."
"Ideas?" You repeat, brows raising.
"Where are you now?" she asks, and for a moment you wonder if you shouldn't be answering.
"Taxi. Headed back to the place I'm staying."
"Where are you staying?" It's a strange question for her to ask, you think. Or maybe, it's not strange at all, but timing and circumstance have you considering the way it sounds.
"A hotel."
"Look to your right," she says, making a confusing request, but you look. Of course, you do. Outside the window, in the next lane over, stuck in the very same traffic as you are, is a familiar face. She gives you the widest grin, pressing the phone to her ear.
"Are you following me?" you joke.
"Do you want me to?" There's something playful in her voice, an attempt at seduction that's not exactly subtle.
"Hanni, what are—"
"Just answer the question," she interrupts.
And that's it. There's no reason to evade the truth. Lying to yourself gets no one anywhere. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."
"Good," she murmurs, "you know, I'm still wearing the same outfit as I was at the event. These jeans are getting really uncomfortable." She pulls the phone away from her ear for a second and you hear her call out, "Driver? See that taxi on our left? Follow it, please. And can I get some privacy back here?"
There are some distant sounds from the other side of the phone. An affirmation of orders. Then her voice is right back with you.
"As I was saying, these jeans are really uncomfortable."
"Fashion can hurt," you say flatly.
"You're supposed to tell me to take them off or something. You're not very good at this are you?"
"I didn't realise 'this' is what we were doing." You've developed a stupid fucking smile, even if it's going unseen.
"Hmm, it can be." There is a moment of quiet as if she's thinking. "Hold on a second," Hanni says. There are some vague sounds you can't make out before she comes back to the phone. "Got bored of waiting. Now, keep talking will you? I like the sound of your voice."
"Hanni, what—"
"Just keep talking. Tell me what you think of me." She can't see it, but the look of confusion must be shining bright on your face. At a loss, and under duress, you speak your mind.
"Well, you seem nice." It's a weak first effort. "Very funny, a little confident. You must know you're pretty. Young, but driven." The words you mumble are stilted, but telling the truth.
"Really. You think I'm pretty?"
"Yeah."
"Not sexy?"
"Hanni, you're fucking sexy."
"Thanks," her laugh is like bells, ringing through the car. "That's better. What did you think of my outfit?"
"Daring. Not often do I see an idol go completely backless. Risky."
"Sometimes a risk is worth taking."
"Seems so."
"Tell me more. Tell me what was the part you liked the most?" Her voice drops from that relaxed confidence to a pitch that has your head buzzing with possibility.
"Nice waist. Really looked good with the way those jeans hugged your hips."
There's a long, heavy breath from the other end of the line. Something rustling and then a deep gasp from Hanni.
"What's happening?"
"Nothing. Keep talking. Describe me to me." Her voice is fraught with need, a small tremble in each word.
"Okay." That was permission, or demand, whichever is. You swallow before continuing. "Backless was a good choice. Your bare skin looks great. I'm sure those pictures are going viral already. Betting they are all over the web, all over people's phones."
"Are we close to your hotel?" Hanni strains out the question as if it were hard to say, every syllable wrought in pain.
"Close."
"Good, are you excited?"
"To?"
"See more of my bare skin."
Fuck. The image floods your mind like a dam breaking. Suddenly, she's right there, unclothed and naked and spread open. Suddenly, she's right there, moaning in pleasure, your cock lodged deep inside her.
"Yes," you groan into the phone. It's a painful admission. "Really, Hanni. Really fucking excited."
"So tell me, what are you excited to see?"
"Your ass. Love the way you wore the jeans just a little too tight. Really framed it."
She whispers, "That's all? Anything else, anything special you wanted to see?"
"Your breasts. Like what the top does. Would like to pull it down and play with those breasts." This whole thing is obscene. You're shamelessly spilling your desire to a girl you just met and she's loving every second of it.
Another soft gasp is heard on the call. It's more than that, it's her panting, short snatches of breath as her little gasps become regular, heated and urgent. "And then what?"
"That's a surprise. We're here." The cab pulls up and her car pulls in behind you.
"Room number?"
"Oh-one-two-two," you say, handing over cash to pay the driver and stepping out. "See you there."
-
It's deep into the night now, and her back is pressed against the wall as you're kissing down her neck. For a young woman who looks ever so innocent, you're quickly learning the taste of her body could have the alcohol industry aflame. She's intoxicating and you're addicted. Lips sucking, teeth pressing lightly against tender flesh.
She told you to not wear a condom, not this time. She described your first load as a waste, a sinful injustice after all the things she had done to wring it from you. So now you're back inside her, thinking only of how you're going to decorate her this time, about the moment you can't hold back any longer and cum, uninhibited, spewing mess over her delicate, flawless little body.
So you're just fucking nailing Hanni against the wall, her leg pulled up and knee hooking around your elbow. Holding her there, pounding her cunt the best you possibly can. Her hands scratch deep lines into your back, and her fingernails leave dull aches along your spine. There's something primal in the way she's urging you to fuck her harder, stronger, faster. She wants all of you, just like you want all of her.
You lift her other leg and hold her there, folded against the drywall. The steady pounding begins to churn her insides, to break her fragile body to the rhythm. She's mewling a mixture of sounds in your ear. Begging. Incoherent sounds of need. Then you feel her cunt clenching and tightening, a sudden strength to the grip she has on your shaft.
Hanni screams your name, howling it at the ceiling and the walls while you drive her ever deeper through an orgasm that's torn apart her expression. Utter beauty, sheer excellence. Her quivering pleasure comes with warmth between the two of you. She cums so hard that she goes limp in your arms. Your legs really begin to strain as you pump her full of cock, and her lips find yours again.
Your kisses are savage, the gnashing of teeth and the crush of lips. She's asking for more. Demanding more.
So you throw her to the bed, turning her over and she instinctively drags herself to her knees. Her palms run to the edge of the bed, clawing the blankets as you climb behind her.
"Do you like my ass?" She breathes. Your grip finds the firm flesh with purpose.
"Love your ass," you mutter, taking a hold and angling her towards you.
"Then fuck me." Hanni arches deep, pushing her soft ass in the air and pressing her tits against the mattress. She backs right up to you, begging to be fucked, once more.
The penetration is perfect. Balls deep inside this horny little girl, grabbing a fistful of her hair and using it as leverage. It's hard, it's fast, it's a brutal rut. A sweaty, wet fuck driven by nothing but raw need. She's too wet, too accommodating, clapping herself against your pelvis, meeting your every thrust.
It's not the time to think. Simply let instinct take over. Leaning into it and fucking her.
More words spill from her mouth. More dirty, lewd praises that have your balls aching. It won't be long now. Every muscle, straining with effort, pulls taut. It's such a fucking trip. This once innocent-looking person sucking the life right from the core of your being, bending over for you to force a hand along her spine and bend her further.
"Cum on me," she whimpers again and again. Over and over. She's pleading with you. "Please, cum on me. On my back. Cover me."
There's no further thought, no plan, no point of focus. Everything narrows down to the slick friction around your shaft, and your stomach starting to become strained from the endless effort. To how her ass shakes as your fuck yourself to the edge and how she cranes her neck to watch you.
At the very last moment, you draw out of her and jerk yourself, quick and urgent motions of your wrist. Hanni's knees give way and she lies flat, looking back and watching you as you start to cover her.
The first spurts land high, just beneath her hair. They collect and pool before forming and dripping forward along her shoulder blades. The next spreads across her shoulders. A thin coating that has you shiver as it lands. It goes on and on until you're slathering her in thick lines and ropes.
Something about the sight is so fitting, so delectable, as she lays there and writhes with need, adoring the feeling of being bathed in your lust.
Her expression is an aphrodisiac as she cries out in ecstasy. Her tongue runs across her lips, and then she lets out a soft lass before crashing her face into the soft bedsheets with a moan. Your fist is still pumping rope after rope of cum across her until every muscle feels drained, and you manage to collapse beside her on the bed. You trace a finger across her smooth, plump ass as you catch your breath.
"This is the life," Hanni gasps. "If I could just have endless sex, the world would be a far happier place."
-
You could have been forgiven for thinking it would be a one-off. Just one night of wild sex together before going your separate ways and never speaking again. A nice memory of a beautiful girl to always sit fondly at the back of your mind.
But the very next night, you're in her hotel bathroom. Sharing a bath together, her back pressed flush to your front. You can't fucking resist running a hand between her thighs, working gently over her cunt to hear the wonderful noises she makes.
"Please," she whispers over and over, grinding against your touch.
Ordinarily, you might tease her, and have her beg a little more, but there's nothing more enthralling than the sounds and sights of Hanni's face when she cums. So instead, you're knuckle deep with two fingers and curling them into her cunt, hitting that magic spot just a little more, faster and faster.
On the brink of her second orgasm in ten minutes, Hanni draws a noisy, shuddering breath, the exhalation quickly becoming a sharp, high-pitched wail that fills the bathroom, her eyes glaze as she climaxes. "Fuck. I—that's—more." Her head falls backwards and rests on your shoulder, "yeah, more."
Hanni's petite frame writhes in orgasm. Back arched, panting breaths quickly turning to gasps for air. Eyes flutter and roll backwards before shutting entirely. Every muscle in her tight cunt grips your fingers as waves of pleasure pour from deep inside. She grinds on you, riding the sensation of your touch through the spasms until they finally slow.
"You're so fucking cute when you cum," you kiss her cheek.
It's the compliment that has her rising from the water, she stands in front of you, her wet ass and thighs dripping as she turns toward you. "Me? Cute?" She smirks, lowering herself onto your thighs, resting your cock against her pussy. "Am I really?"
"Cutest fucking thing."
She guides your cock to her wet pussy, sinking down and slowly filling herself, the both of you making a whimper at the sensation. She's in no rush, though. She prefers slow, she favours long, lingering motions where you're all the way inside her and stay there for just a few moments before climbing once more.
Her rhythm has you melting back against the bath. Long, even strokes have her ass lifting and sinking, and she rolls her hips so elegantly that it's natural to reach for her waist and run your hands along her curves.
"I hope you don't think I'm easy," Hanni whispers, her fingers grabbing the hair on the back of your head, locking her hot body against yours, keeping you close, wrapping around you. "But I'm twenty and sex-deprived, so deal with it."
"You're allowed to enjoy sex. Nothing wrong with that," you answer through closed eyes, focusing only on the heat, the skin, the feeling of your cock rubbing through her.
With a mischievous chuckle, she rests her weight on you. Chest to chest, nose against nose.
"Careful," she whispers, her voice fluttering in between soft sighs of excitement. "I could get used to having a man around. Someone willing to get me off, over and over again. You might be stuck with me. Wouldn't that be scandalous? A reporter who's secretly fucking a star like me?"
That alluring, seductive voice makes your body tense. Her kiss threatens to undo you right then and there. She's riding you harder now, bouncing her ass in your lap. Driving the pleasure, the friction, harder and deeper.
"I have a confession to make," you speak with heavy breaths, trying to restrain yourself. "I think I could get used to this. Every day. If I could."
"It's a deal then. How about we celebrate by letting you blow a load inside me? Would you like that?" She nibbles at your earlobe, giggling as she sucks it between her lips. "How good would it feel to feel your hot, thick cum slide all the way up inside me?"
"So fucking good."
"And maybe tomorrow I'll keep you inside me and let you fill me all over again, and maybe I'll do the same the day after." There's a devilish smile across her face as she continues, "I'll ride you again and again and again..."
She keeps repeating it, the word stamped into your head over and over and each time she says it, she drives her hips down into you. Hard. The water ripples. Her ass slaps the tops of your thighs. It's a relentless rhythm, an insistent grind, a desperate desire for more.
"You're filthy," you tell her as you take a firm grip on her ass, her flesh filling your grasp and the muscles rippling through her skin as she moves.
"Maybe. Maybe I am, and maybe you like it." She laughs. A sound as sweet as honey.
"You know I do."
"Then show me how much. Fill me. Let it go."
That's all you need, just her words and the way she fucks you. She's the one doing all the work, and it's all the reason you need to relax and let the bliss consume you.
Hanni is kissing you when it hits. She swallows your groans of release, sucking them into her lungs. Her hands press down into your shoulders, nails sinking deep into your skin.
She doesn't stop moving, not once. Keeps grinding. She maintains the pace until you can't take any more. Until there's nothing left. Only then does she ease her motion, settling onto your lap, keeping you deep in her.
"That was amazing," she sighs.
"Fucking was."
#hanni smut#kpop smut#male reader#kpop fanfic#m reader#newjeans smut#kpop fanfiction#hanni x reader#smut
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OOOH bartender Simon when one of the regulars starts making comments about reader at the bar
Yes
Slight nsfw, someone makes derogatory marks about reader
Simon didn't understand why the man chose to be a regular at his bar. He never spoke much to the lad, Mitch, other than the occasional grunt and "'nother round?" Still, the bloke had been coming to his pub every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday night like it was his religion - it very well might've been - spilling his guts over neat whiskey about his failing marriage, his estranged children, and his shitty job. Simon was surprised he managed to keep one, with how much he was drinking on a Sunday night.
"Don't ever get a wife, Simon." Mitch says, fidgeting his empty whiskey glass in his fingers. He'd already come in with a sour expression and droopy eyes - Simon wondered what the topic would be for tonight, but as usual, it steered towards his divorce waiting to happen.
"Already got one." He says, jerking his head to the liquor shelf. "Woodford."
Mitch laughs, letting Ghost take his empty glass and dunk it in the wash basin. "You got anyone waitin' for you after work?"
Ghost clicks his tongue, wiping the condensation off the bar top. "Rather not talk about my personal life 'ere."
"Bah - you need something young n' fresh." Mitch sighs, tapping his fingers against the wood. "Guy like you can't have something too committed, or else your work ethic will suffer."
Ghost grunts as his response. He reminds himself that Mitch was a customer, like everyone else, and he only has to tolerate his yapping for tonight - until next Friday.
Mitch turns his head to look at you, and Simon follows with his eyes: you're standing at a table, bantering with the couple seated there as you take their orders. Hair pulled back into that weird claw clip thingy Simon likes so much, posture relaxed as you leaned on one hip, a soft smile on your face as the couple takes their time placing their orders. He remembers how unfamiliar you were with it all in the beginning, and now it looks like you've been working here for the past ten years. Like you belong in his pub.
"How's she handling the job?" Mitch asks.
Simon shrugs. "Seems t' be managing just fine. Gets away with more shit than I should be allowin' 'er."
Mitch chuckles, looking back at you. "They always do when they look that good." He comments, making Ghost pause. "Price knew what he was doin' hiring her."
He feels his muscles tense subconsciously. "I hired 'er."
Mitch looks back at him, a wicked smile spreading across his face. "Simon, you ol' dog..." he begins, leaning his forearms onto the bartop. "Gotta keep the customers comin' somehow, eh?"
Ghost blinks. "I don't follow." He does; but he's giving Mitch a chance to redeem himself after his insinuation.
"C'mon, was it her face? What she wore to the interview? Did Johhny-boy see her and beg you to hire her?" He leans in towards Simon, who obliges and meets him halfway, just to hear what else the prick will say, so he knows how much damage he can justify.
"I'm telling you - the only reason she probably took the job was, well.." he raises and eyebrow.
Simon waits. "Hmm?"
"You know - three big guys like you lot - not to mention that old brewmaster assistant, Garrick, I know he frequents here... well, any desperate thing like her would be throwing themselves at the opportunity."
He's livid. "Wha' opportunity?"
"Gettin hit from all sides, if you catch my drift."
Ghost nods slowly, biting the inside of his cheek until he tastes blood. He wants to punch a hole through Mitch's chest, but two patrons roughhoused in one week would make Price get on his case. He turns to the bar and grabs a whiskey glass.
"Aww, don't be like that..." Mitch says when he senses Ghost's anger. "I'm sorry. Listen - if you don't want to show her a good time, me and my buddy will. I'll leave my number and you'll give it to her for me?"
"Drink this, sober up, and go home Mitch." Ghost says, slapping the glass of clear liquid in front of the man. Mitch eyes him with a huff as he returns to washing the glasses in the bar sink.
"Fuckin' loser..." he mumbles, grabbing the glass and downing a large gulp - he immediately sputters, the drink spilling all over his front as he coughs and hacks violently. The entire floor looks over at the commotion, you included, standing by the POS and watching with a furrowed brow.
"Fuck- was that goddamn Everclear?!" He rasps.
"I think it's time y' head out, Mitch." Ghost says, leaning both of his hands against the bar. "Call your wife and kids. Stop comin' 'ere every week." He then leans in close, right in front of Mitch's face. "Cuz if I see you back at my bar again, I'm draggin' you out the back myself."
His eyes crinkle with a smile as he claps Mitch on the arm, making him jump from the impact. He quickly gets up off his seat and stumbles towards the front door, sparing one last bitter glance between you and Ghost, before he angrily shoves his way out.
Ghost sighs, putting the Everclear back on the shelf; you walk over right on cue. "What was that about? He ok?"
Simon shrugs, closing Mitch's tab on his POS and assigning an auto-gratuity. "Dunno. Maybe my advice finally got t' the bastard."
#ghost#bartender ghost#simon riley#simon ghost riely#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#ghost x you#cod#call of duty#ghost cod#cod x reader
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Hi I'm that person who made the original post about "no doesn mean no" when a small bit of the mr beast company document was leaked, well, now we have the full document (thanks rosanna) so I'm going to go over it. Please note I am not a lawyer or a business man, I'm in college for psychology, so I might misunderstand some things or make the wrong conclusion. However, if this is a document made for the average mr. beast employee, if I cannot understand it properly, then im sure some employees also struggled
First of all, the opening paragraph. Like I get it's supposed to be like, to put people at ease, but
This is so strange? Like, first of all, this is your EMPLOYEE MANUAL, you should have run it through like, a spell check? Or had someone edit it? This is already incredibly unprofessional. Also the promising of a thousand dollars if you pass a quiz on it? It's bizarre and I'd love to see if it's an actual quiz.
Jimmy, hun, please god get an editor for this you're already trying my patience.
YOU SHOULD, you genuinely should, while interconnected these are all COMPLETELY different jobs, if you think you could write a separate manual for each branch you SHOULD
I'm sure I'm about to get an answer but what the fuck is the best YOUTUBE video then? If it's not comedy, its not production, its not quality, its not look, then what the hell is left? (monetization, it's monetization)
First of all, Jimmy, why are you using internet lingo in this, it's not a text message, this is not a place for, idc, and lol, and not capitalizing your headers correctly??? Also like I said, he's chasing trends for monetization, and also he's just wrong, there are plenty of hollywood level shows and the like on youtube. You fully admit you do not care about trends and actively rush things?
This is just fucked??? Like of COURSE IT MATTERS??? Results based company is bullshit, your employees that worked for five weeks and failed aren't "lesser" then James, it's a structural failure! They still worked for HOURS to try and succeed?? That shows merit and loyalty??? What the fuck???
Rosanna covers this one in her video but it's worth restating that this is FUCKED??? It's clear overwork "your job is your family" culture. Especially the use of the word obsessive? If you do not OBSESS over your work, you are considered poisonous. NO WONDER we have so many reports of employees doing things they feel is dangerous or unsafe, if they don't they're considered POISON to the company.
The formatting in this doc continues to fucking kill me, what are you DOING man GET AN EDITOR
This feels like such an easy fix of just...make the thumbnail after the fact? Or only make a rough draft of one first? Like if production makes a red bouncy castle instead of a yellow one, that feels like an easy fix to the thumbnail OR a communication error, and again, that's on management
A lot of the next stuff is like analytics stuff that for the most part I can't really speak on as someone who does not do any of this stuff. There are a few things though
Which like???? what??? a lull??? what do you mean "watching a video without even realizing they are watching a video??" That doesn't scream good or even mediocre content to me. If I'm actively tuning out as I watch a video, that's bad. Especially because there have been plenty of times I've been like half way through a video i go "hey this sucks actually" and click off. They actively want their audience to not be paying attention to the video so it runs all the way through, that's kinda pathetic.
I don't actually know if this is common or not in this industry, but as an outsider this seems INCREDIBLY micromanaging to me, to an immense degree.
Jimmy why are you putting swears in your employee manual?? sir??? and also something about this whole thing icks me out, I don't quite have the words but the whole emphasis on "im different im special no one else can be me" just reeks of something kind of manipulative
Why is production changing so much Jimmy??? Infinite growth is the mindset of a cancer cell Jimmy! This is incredibly unstable working conditions! Also again with the word obsession, if you take time out of your own day on your own time to watch hulu, that's seen as not being obsessed enough for the company. This is nonsensical!
Again, this is INSANELY micromanaging, and also so fucking unhinged??? "God himself couldn't stop you from making this video on time" is NOT a healthy work mindset, things HAPPEN!!!
In this segment he's actually talking normal things but I did just want to highlight his use of "freaken" who the hell puts that in an EMPLOYEE MANUEL
Again with the micromanaging, and the immense pressure on employees for problems OTHER people do. While he's not fully wrong that you should be in more contact with the contractor then the example, this is too much in the other direction. How much time in the day does he think people have?!
My kingdom for a fucking paragraph break dude, my fucking eyes. Also this is a lot of "im so great and do everything and you should do more for me and if i dont know something that's your fault" for something titled "I am not always right"
I'm getting lazy with my highlighting, but again, the micromanaging? If you're SOOO busy, the first question should be the ideal? it's quick and makes a quick decision, while the second one meanders and meanders
Again, Jimmy is pushing blame for HIS mistakes on OTHER PEOPLE. For again, a section called "i am not always right" hes taking NO accountability for that and just making the SAME excuses he's berating in other places.
I can't even tell what he means here AN EDITOR JIMMY
Autism Hell tm, PLEASE email me so I can DOUBLE CHECK IT, things in writing are SO useful
Again the language towards "C-Players" which as mr beast has said, are the people who y'know, are NORMAL employees who DON'T live and breathe this company
Okay first of all, a Lamborghini is like 300k so that's already A REALLY hard task, and i sure hope don't usually put typos in the tasks. SECOND of all the fact he thinks its okay to go "hey if the studio is literally on fire around you and you stop working to get the Lamborghini, you're not doing good enough" even if he claims it as a joke is NOT OKAY what the FUCK
We've covered this before, but to reiterate this segment is named after a sexual assault reference when it could have been named ANYTHING ELSE and harasses employees and pressures them to break rules, don't do that.
I'm not an editor, so maybe this is normal, but as someone from the outside it seems strange to put this much emphasis on dividing focus between so many videos at once.
Jimmy, hun, are you paying extra for this? Because if I'm an editor and you want me FILMING stuff then i want to be paid more for doing TWO jobs and I probably still wont be as skilled a TRAINED CAMERA MAN
First of all now THAT'S a type, consteatants. Also the fact they are aware that leaving contestants out in the sun is bad, why are you not doing MORE TO STOP IT BEYOND "hey maybe giving them three hours of heatstroke is bad, try only two next time"
Don't we love favoritism, more shitty unprofessional writings, and a completely unstable work environment?
If your people have to pull all nighters period something is wrong, and if something happens to an employees car that could have seriously hurt someone, i sure hope you care more then just "LOL FUNNY" Who's picking up the broken glass? Who's reimbursing the car owner? That one meme of "your first care should be commitment to the bit" is a MEME jimmy, it's not ACTUAL ADVICE
Ah shit I hit image limit, well, you've seen enough screenshots to know these are screenshots, we're almost done I'll put them in as quotes
"Let’s say you are tasked with finding us a castle to live in for 50 hours and while doing research you find a castle and a number to call for the owner. So you do call, and he answers. Only problem is he says he quit the castle renting business to pursue his dream of building a 100 foot tall lego catapult. You can obviously tell where i’m going with this. Ideally you’d recognize that’s badass as fuck and try to convince him to let us use it when we do find a castle. This is a bad example because it’s so obvious but if you’re doing your job right you will be doing an absurd amounts of calls and data collecting. While trying to complete your prios and prepare for the video you should always be on the lookout for new things you can bring to your creative team to inspire them. Because just like me, they don’t know what they don’t know and you can’t just say “i’m in production and i’m not very creative” because that’s literally the equivalent of saying I suck at what I do. You also need to apply this same mindset when problem solving because many people lose sight of this stuff when in the weeds. If a problem appears, always always always ask yourself if your new plan is whats best for creative, not just the easiest bandaid."
First of all it's really funny seeing all the red lines pop up, second of all this insistent blurring of everyone's job seems so strange? Again maybe this is normal, but it really feels like Jimmy wants everyone working every job, instead on focusing on what they are actually hired to do.
"What is the goal of our content?
To excite me. The goal of our content is to excite me. That may sound weird to some of you, especially if you’re new but to me it’s what’s most important. If I'm not excited to get in front of that camera and film the video, it’s just simply not going to happen."
That's fucking weirddddd, like I get that he's trying to be like "im authentic" but it always feels like a bad sign when the goal of a company is literally just "What amuses the boss" like...bad sign
"this is youtube and there are constraints. You know the video can’t be a minute so you’re obviously going to need a story to hold the viewers and there are rules to storytelling. Our audience is massive and because of that you have to be simple, for 50 million people to understand something it must be simple. Content can be anything but there is structure and rules that we must mold it into that I want to teach you about, because virality doesn’t just happen. Every frame of our videos will be seen by 10s of millions of people"
Gross
"I'd say the average MrBeast viewer is a teenage memer that likes video games."
Mr Beast is completely aware of his demographic and puts screen shots of it, he is very aware his stuff is aimed at kids, even when its about gambling or hiring people not around near minors
"I feel silly for having to write this but all the time I talk to 32 new people that have at most seen like 5 or 6 of our videos and it’s mind blowing that they don’t see a problem with that lol."
It's almost like your audience is teenage memer and that people who working here are not in fact, teenage memers.
"What you consume on social media, when you watch youtube, tv, the games you play, etc. are what I like to call your information diet.
How do you stay up to date on the latest memes? How do you know what’s going on with celebrities? What’s trending on youtube? What other creators are doing? What’s popping on tik tok? Your information diet. Consume things on a daily basis that help you write better content."
If my job as a creative writer had my boss tell me to have to see whats "popping on tik tok" as part of my job i'd quit also again, the micromanaging of someone's life as well pops up again, it's weirddd
"It’s okay for the boys to be childish
If talent wants to draw a dick on the white board in the video or do something stupid, let them. (assuming they know all the risks and arn’t missing context on why it’s not safe) People like when we are in our natural element of stupidity. Really do everything you can to empower the boys when filming and help them make content. Help them be idiots"
More favoritism
"If you’ve made it this far you are probably at least semi interested in this being your career. So I wanted to chat about it. Because if you're ambitious and want to dedicate your life to work, you picked the best company in America to do it at. I really don’t care to hoard a bunch of money and I deeply believe in rewarding the people that help this business get where it needs to be. But before I get into that, let’s talk about the future. As I write this we have 2 teams, that will grow to 4 in the next year. (and possibly 8 in the next 2 years but I can’t talk about that cause james will kill me haha). We need more leaders in the company. Weneed hard working, obsessive, coachable, intelligent, grinders that can step up and take some of these leadership spots over the next 2 years. Every single department has an opportunity for you to grow in and you’re in luck because we don’t do yearly reviews. We do whenever the fuck you want reviewes"
Lack of communication from management, and more emphasis on grinding and crunch culture, goodie, all while riddled with typos! God.
"I see a world where this company is worth billions and one day 10s of billions. And those of you that help build this will be rewarded. I want nothing more then for you to go all in, obsessive all day everyday, and become so god dam valuable this company can’t operate without you. And in return for becoming so valuable I hope to give you incredible experiences, a fun place to work, and of course, more money then you could ever dream of making at any other company."
I feel like I'm reading a fucking pyramid scheme document here, "youre so so valuable spend literally every minute of every day on this company haha" good GOD man
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ELABORATE ON OBSESSED!WORSHIP THE GROUND YOU WALK ON!HOUSEHUSBAND JAKE PLEASE!!!!!! MY MIND IS GONNA EXPLODE – byeol
i'll be the husband jake plug no worries. warnings: jake is suppppppppperrrrrrrr needy omg.
It's normal, natural to him to do these things.
You're so tired after a long day, he gets it. the days feel longer to him sometimes though, despite your tired feet and aching back. You're his wife, he needs you.
So what if he's unemployed? He's employed to you. Will do anything for you. everything for you. happily and willingly, with so much love in his eyes every single fucking time he hears that lock on the door click open.
Time to reiterate. He needs you.
It's been weeks. He gets it. Stress, big promotion you're going for or something. He can't say he cares too much lately due to the neglect he's been dealing with.
After all the cleaning, he massages you, bathes you, tucks you in, kisses you gently, and doesn't dare ask for more from you. After all, you're expected to do so much, from so many people. Not him. Not ever. Until now. He's a man. For three days now he's been trying to remind you. Trying all sorts of subtle tricks. Some blatant ones too. Generous groping that goes rejected. A few heavy makeouts dwindling to a pop kiss and a tired "goodnight." More subtle ones, where he simply tries to dress well for you, clean far better than usual, make your favorite foods. He knows it's not because you don't want him but...you're so stressed. He could kill two birds with one stone if you'd just... "Baby." He had said last night, sinking under the blankets and prying your legs apart. "Just rest, this is all i need." He continued, implying that he would be perfectly happy helping you relax with some bedtime head. You had closed your legs on him, pinching your brows together with the same stressed out face. All day today, his brows have been equally knitted together. Stressed. Fucking horny. Is it cringe for him to do this? Yes. Does he care? No. Fuck no. And so, you come home just like any other day to the smell of dinner. It's sweet smelling, which is an indication that your husband wants something. Never does he serve dessert for dinner, but tonight feels like a welcome change because everything else just started not only feeling, but tasting too mundane. You were more surprised when you werent greeted by Jake at the door. He didn't take your things, or slide your jacket off of you. Which, that's fine. You don't need him to wait on you hand and foot. He just tends to like doing that for you anyway... You search in curiosity for him, following the sound of clanking pots and pans. The sound would give you a headache if it weren't for the image of him as you enter the kitchen. There he is. Hair pinned back with one of your headbands, apron on... only an apron. Cock lending quite a large tent as he turns to you. You know he's trying to smile genuinely, but you see a hint of pain behind his eyes. Desperate pain. Almost like he's begging you for something. Anything. And he is begging. Only when he drops to his knees and looks up at you with those eyes do you recognize how terribly you've been neglecting him. So much so that you didn't even let him eat you out, which wouldn't have expected anything on your part aside from an orgasm. This moment feels almost emasculating for him, you can imagine. Like you've deprived him of everything he needs from you in order to maintain order in this household. Arguably, you have deprived him. You can tell by how big his cock looks peeking from the hem of the apron, and those sad glassy eyes looking at you as if this is a last resort. "Baby, ple-" Jake starts to plead on the floor, the dessert he was cooking long forgotten. You're speechless at the image, finally feeling a tingle between your legs for the first time in months. You feel so apologetic alongside the tingle, realizing how much suffering he must have gone through to be doing this. After all, there's no way in hell you could have satiated this need within you without him. How he's managed to do it all this time is beyond you. ''Jake," You interrupt him, dropping your hands to his cheeks and tilting his face further up to you. "What do you need?" You see those glassy eyes become more tearful, probably from happiness by now. No words and no apologies need to be said at this moment. He sees your realization, and understands the lack of seeing to his needs to an extent. But this... this can't happen again. Nothing is to be said after that when Jake immediately goes for your pants, missing the taste of you so badly. He was right in knowing that even just the smell of you could satiate him. And it does, his cock heavy and leaking just from the sensation of the apron rubbing against him paired with the scent of your pussy that has been long neglected.
And he devours you, getting off at least twice there on the kitchen floor with his palm desperately working himself to each high. You could tell he didn't want you to feel like you needed to do anything for him but...let him. God, fuck, you feel so guilty.
So you make up for it. Right here, sliding down on him raw, letting the mess he's made of himself make a mess of you too.
"Baby, wait-" Jake chokes, working against his words by helping you slide down on him entirely. "Fuck, you're-"
"Shh." You sigh deeply, realizing how much you needed this too. "Just keep going," He does. Fucking you so desperately that you believe he cums in you at least twice from you adjusting alone, messing your thighs with sticky fluids, the kitchen floor, and himself. So much of it, you're so full of it already. Plan B isn't such a difficult thing to buy anyway. Especially after he chooses to keep fucking you, as if he worries he'll never get to do it again.
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The Bet | Aaron Hotchner
Synopsis: The team bets Aaron that he won't be able to find himself a date for Dave's annual summer barbecue. Little do they know, he's already got his eye on you.
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x F!BAU!Reader
Warnings: Fluff, Hotch being perfect
It's half past ten, the smell of paper and brewing coffee permeates through the bullpen, and your eyes were narrowed at the small little circle surrounding Emily's desk.
"Okay, I'll bite. What are we talking about?" You finally lean over to ask, rolling your eyes fondly when Derek flashes a mischievous grin at you. He had been giving you numerous glances over the past ten minutes to try and draw your attention, possessing the giddiness and subtly of a puppy.
"Rossi's barbecue is next week." Emily muses, a bright glint in her eyes.
You nod slowly and cautiously, not sure what you were walking into. "Right..." you drag the word out a bit. "And? What are you planning? You only have that kind of smile when you're up to something, Em."
"Well, Rossi's making plus one's mandatory this year." Derek says with a sly grin, crossing his arms as he leans back against Emily's desk.
You raise your eyebrows and glance to Spencer. "Oh? And we're all in agreement with this new rule?"
"I believe Rossi's exact words were 'you people need to get out more,' so..." Emily laughs softly, shrugging as if his words had become law.
Spencer frowns a little and nods. "He also said that it would be good to bring someone we actually like and know because 'a man who doesn't spend time with his family can never be a real man.'"
"Did Rossi really just quote the fucking Godfather at us." You deadpan and glance over to Emily who raises her hands up and shrugs again. "Okay, fine. Now I'm a bit scared to ask, but why are you guys laughing?"
Derek smiles brightly before answering with an amused tone. "Because this means Hotch has to bring a date too. Rossi's already made a bet with him that he won't be able to find a date, and we're all getting in on the action too. Losers owe a hundred each."
"Wow, Rossi's not wasting any time. So, what did you guys bet on?" You ask with a near unimpressed tone and raise an eyebrow.
Spencer glances between the three of you guys before giving you the Sparknotes version. "Well, the three of us are betting with Rossi. Penelope's still deciding, and we haven't gotten to JJ yet."
"Well, I'll bet you twenty that JJ decides to sit out on this. I mean, guys, please, are you all really convinced that Aaron Hotchner of all people can't score himself a date?" You raise your eyebrows, unimpressed by the wit of your three friends.
You have to refrain from speaking further, knowing it'd turn into a spiel of how attractive you thought your unit chief was. Plus, you weren't trying to deal with them profiling the HR nightmare-sized crush you harbored for Aaron.
"You're going against the grain, sweetheart?" Derek chuckles, lips tugged into an excited grin.
Emily shakes her head and interjects. "Okay, but there's no way he's going to be able to get a date before the party. He was hand delivered like two weeks worth of paperwork this morning."
"It's Hotch. He's full of surprises." You grin, glancing around the bustling bullpen. "And anyway, you guys already have dates?"
Derek clicks his tongue and nods with a pleased smirk. "Yep. You guys remember Savannah, right?"
"Oh yeah, I like her." Emily chimes in before groaning and leaning back in her chair. "Ugh, I don't know if my guy is going to be busy."
You shake your head and smile, teasing her with a sympathetic tone. "Well, if he has any sense, he'll drop whatever he's doing to come with you."
Emily flashes a grin at you, silently telling you that she'd talk to you later about outfit details. Spencer is lost in thought for a second before you see him frowning.
"Spence?" You ask slowly, tilting your head.
He hesitates for a moment before looking at the three of you. "Do you guys think Rossi will let me in without a date?"
"No." Rossi's voice suddenly rings out as he walks by, blowing on his steaming coffee to hide his grin as he beelines to his office.
Derek snickers and claps his hand over Spencer's shoulder. "There's your answer, kid."
Later that day, you're hunched over your desk and nursing your headache with a cup of tea as you read through some reports. Just as you were about to reread the paragraph you zoned out on, you hear your name being called.
Raising your head up and blinking away the blobs swimming across your vision, you see Aaron standing in front of his office door, hands on the railing as he eyes you. "My office."
Standing up slowly, you feel your muscles aching as you stretch a bit. When you've made your way into Aaron's office, you see him leaning back against his desk, arms crossed.
"Yes, sir?" You ask and slowly come to a stop in the middle of his office.
"You've heard about Dave's party next Saturday, yes?" He asks lowly, eyebrows drawn together.
Nodding in confusion, you wait for him to continue.
"And his terms for the night?"
"Uhm, yes, I have. Is this about the bet being made, sir?" You prod gently, wanting to know if he was trying to sleuth out who was betting what.
"Yes." He answers with an unyielding gaze, looking unsure of himself for a moment. "I was wondering if you had someone you were going to bring."
"Oh." You blush a little and smile smally. "No... A lot of us are still trying to find dates."
Aaron huffs in amusement and nods. "Yeah, Dave's really stepping on our necks this year."
"He just wants an excuse to cook more, I'm sure." You chuckle softly.
"It wouldn't be the first time..." He smiles before clearing his throat and straightening up again. "Well, I was wondering if you'd like to accompany me that evening as my plus one." He says, looking at you gently.
It feels like the wind is being knocked out of you as you stare at him owlishly. "Me?" You ask dumbly.
"Yes, it's okay if you would prefer not to though, I know this is very sudden." He reassures you.
Blinking rapidly, you see the slightest bit of pink creeping across his ears. "Oh, no, I would love to be your date for the party." You answer quickly, not wanting to let the opportunity slip through your fingers.
"Really?" He says with a bit of relief, the stress immediately dissipating from his face.
You nod and smile shyly, fiddling with your fingers. "Yes. I'm happy that you thought of me."
Aaron nods back and tries to compose himself a bit. "Of course... and I'm happy that you agreed."
Grinning softly at him, you chuckle a bit. "Well, I'll call you this weekend so we can settle the details, if that's okay..."
"That's perfect." He answers quickly, his eyes warm and filled with an indistinguishable emotion.
"Great! Well, I'll, uh, leave you to it then." You slowly back out of the room, shooting him a reassuring smile and fleeing back to your desk in disbelief.
When the night of Rossi's party finally turns up, you're anxiously pacing around your apartment, checking your outfit for the fifth time. Aaron had insisted on picking you up, ever the gentleman.
Time trickles by slowly, and when you finally hear a gentle knock on your door, you're practically flying toward it. Checking the peephole for a split second, you swing the door open and your eyes immediately dart down to the bouquet of roses in Aaron's hand.
"Oh!" You sputter out in shock, taking a moment to gather yourself. "Wow, they're beautiful. Thank you..." Blushing brightly, you smile as he hands you the bouquet.
"You look beautiful." He speaks gently, but his gaze is intense as he takes you in.
"Thank you. You look amazing..." It's clear that you're a bit flustered as you hurry to quickly put the roses in a vase, eyes continuing to flicker to his figure in your doorway.
He was in a black button up that hugged his arms and torso in ways that had you almost faceplanting with every step.
You're amazed that you manage to make it down to where his car is parked without your knees giving out as his hand ghosts over the small of your back the entire trek there.
He opens the passenger door for you and waits for you to get in before gently closing the door. It was driving you up the wall how gentle and warm he was being, and you almost wanted this to be a real date.
As he drives you both to Rossi's mansion, you speak softly to him, trying to ignore the way he steers with one hand on the wheel.
"Spencer texted me yesterday. He's bringing a girl he met at a coffee shop." You smile softly, meeting Aaron's gaze as he rolls to a stop at a red light.
"Really? That's good." He responds quietly, smiling fondly at the mention of Spencer.
"I know. He was worried about it all week, but I don't think he realizes how many women are attracted to him." You chuckle softly, nodding subtly toward the windshield as the stoplight turns green.
Aaron nods and grows quiet. A few minutes of silence pass before he speaks up, voice laden with nerves. "I'm grateful that Dave made the bet."
"Really?" You respond in surprise, wondering if it was because he was going to be a couple hundred dollars richer by the end of the night.
"Yes because it gave me the push I needed to finally ask you out."
Your lips part a bit at his words, butterflies swinging around your stomach and buzzing to the tips of your fingers. "Aaron?"
"I don't want tonight to continue with the pretense that I only asked you out to win the bet." His voice is mellow and growing more confident by the syllable, eyes occasionally flitting to yours as he drives on the highway. "I've admired you for a long time as an agent and a friend... and it didn't take long for that to turn into something more for me."
"Why are you telling me this now?" You muster up the courage to ask, leaning a bit closer to the center console between your seats.
"Because I realized these feelings were only growing everyday I saw you. Even if it's selfish, I want to be honest with you." He braves another glance at you.
You let out a heavy breath full of relief as you smile brightly at him, the setting sun casting a glowing pool of pinks and oranges across your beaming face. "I like you too, Aaron. I have for a long time as well."
Aaron's free hand reaches for your hand, and you happily let him tangle his fingers with yours. It was clear that nothing more needed to be said between you both, the connection between your hearts growing stronger with every ounce of relief and adrenaline that filled you both.
The feeling of his calloused hand in yours keeps a buzzing warmth coursing through your body for the rest of the drive.
When you pull up to Rossi's opulent house, neither of you notice the curtains of the window by the front door moving as your team take turns peeking outside when they realize Aaron's car has arrived.
Aaron walks with you to the front door with his arm around your waist, a bright glint in his gaze as he's radiating unadulterated joy.
Neither of you even pretend to be sheepish when the door swings open and Penelope's squeals meet your ears, everyone piecing together the puzzle when they see Aaron holding you close.
"We were starting to think you both got lost." Rossi's voice rings out as he chuckles and beckons you both in, looking at Aaron with an impressed smirk.
"Thanks for having us, Dave." Aaron grins, squeezing your waist before loosening his hold to let Penelope tackle you in a hug, Emily and JJ's enthusiastic questions not far behind.
"When did that happen?" Emily gapes, excitedly poking your side and raising her eyebrows.
You hug JJ and answer her from over JJ's shoulder. "The day you all made the bet. I told you guys that Aaron's full of surprises."
"Remind me to never bet against you in the future. Well, someone get Derek over here." Emily shakes her head in disbelief as you all slowly migrate toward the kitchen.
Aaron's hand finds yours again as you triumphantly smile, "Oh right, I hope you all brought your wallets! It's time to pay up."
"My man!" Derek's voice echoes around the house as he emerges from the wine cellar, beaming at Aaron. "Where's your date?" He asks, clearly unaware of the proximity between you and Aaron.
Aaron holds up your joined hands and chuckles. "I think this means I win?"
Morgan nearly drops the bottle of wine in his grip as he swivels his head for a double take at you both.
Rossi leaps toward Morgan, arms extended forward as panic seeps into his eyes. "Careful! That's 1860 Madeira!"
Morgan groans and lets Rossi wrestle the bottle from his grip. "Will you ever let us win at something, man?"
Aaron's chest rumbles with a chuckle as he rubs your knuckles with his thumb and shakes his head in amusement. "Not a chance."
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotch imagine#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds aaron#aaron hotchner fic
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summer christmas II a.russo
third little christmas fic installment! summer christmas II a.russo
"less, you're being a little bit dramatic." you chuckled, laid on the bed watching your girlfriend rifle through her suitcase grumbling and mumbling under her breath. "i am not! this is just wrong, its all wrong." the english woman shook her head with a huff as you merely smiled in amusement.
"baby you're just hot and bothered, you'll adjust in a few days! you've barely been here twenty four hours." you assured, pulling yourself to sit against your headboard and crossing your legs underneath you.
"exactly, and in that twenty four hours i've slept for about two of them!" the normally soft spoken blonde snapped, yanking a red bikini out of her bag and tossing it into the ever growing piles of clothes on the floor beside her.
"that's just the jetlag babe. it was the same when you came here last time, unfortunately the flight and the time differences don't change lessi, i tried speaking to someone about it but apparently mere mortals can't change geographical lines and locations." you teased gently with a grin, perfectly manicured eyebrows furrowing together in a scowl sent your way shortly after.
"it wasn't anywhere near this hot when we were here in august, i'm going to melt!" the girl groaned, kicking her case closed and flopping down backwards on the end of the bed, face buried in her hands.
"thats because again its summer right now less. i also spoke with mother nature but she won't drop the temperature, turns out she's nearly as stubborn as you." you sighed sarcastically, laying down so your head was near hers as she rolled onto her side.
"you are not cute." the blonde warned as you winked, poking her nose as she smacked your hands away and rolled onto her back again.
"this is like opposite day on repeat! its supposed to be freezing cold and you wear hundreds of layers and drink hot chocolate and get cosy and have a fire and chop down a tree an-" your british girlfriend rattled off her regular traditions, ticking them off with her fingers.
"we can still do that stuff! well maybe not all of it, but we can watch christmas movies and go look at lights and have iced chocolates! we can take my nieces to the carols in the park, we can also go to the beach everyday and out on my brothers boat and we can stay out later because the sun doesn't set till after nine, and my mum got us all matching pyjamas! they're just...summer ones." you tried to assure, moving onto your stomach and looking down at her with a few encouraging nods.
"but its not the same! i've never had a hot christmas, all of its just wrong." alessia moaned, arms covering her face as you deflated a little and wriggled back to sit up, fiddling with your fingers in your lap for a second as doubts began to swirl around in your head at her words.
the two of you played at arsenal together and quickly clicked when alessia transferred, having met at a few social events the last couple of years you'd been in england and gotten close with some of your english teammates who'd gone above and beyond to make you feel welcome.
it helped having steph and caitlin around, and then now kyra, plus the rest of your matildas teammates scattered throughout london whom you regularly made efforts to catch up.
you and alessia had only been seeing one another for about a year and a half now but if you asked anyone who'd spent time with you during that period they'd tease you acted as if it had been much much longer.
last year you'd spent your first christmas in england with the russo family, finally having a reason not to go home which as much as it broke your mums heart she was overjoyed you'd met someone, bonus being it someone as kind and thoughtful as alessia was.
but this year you'd promised to come home for christmas, not having much of a chance to see your family all season between the olympics, international games, league games and champions leagues matches that had kept you more than busy the last twelve months.
you'd not expected your girlfriend to come with you, the two of you more than accustomed now to having to spend time apart playing for different countries. but when alessia teasingly floated the idea over dinner, feigning offence you hadn't asked her, it had all blossomed from there and now here she was.
you were much more used to the long haul flight home than the blonde was though, having done it dozens of times over the years for international commitments among the league games in england.
you'd come home pretty much the very day your break started, just under a week earlier than alessia to allow her to spend a little bit of the december break with her own family before she flew herself to australia.
but ever since you'd picked her up from the airport yesterday you could tell she was rather miserable.
there'd been turbulence and two screaming babies on the flight despite the fact the striker had flown business, which meant she'd not slept anywhere near as much as planned, and adjusting to the time difference hadn't been kind.
so slowly those doubts that you'd made a wrong choice asking her here grew louder and louder, until you just had to say something or else it felt as it you might burst.
"do you wish you'd stayed in england?" you asked quietly, attempts to mask the insecurity in your voice null and void as your girlfriend shot up, guilt written clear all over her face which sank as it caught the obvious nerves in your features that she regretted her choice to come home with you for the holidays during break.
"what? baby no of course not. i'm so excited to finally meet your whole family and spend time with them and with you, i'm so sorry for being so negative. i'm just tired and grumpy but that is not at all fair to take out on you." the blondes hands moved to settle either side of your face, bright blue eyes scanning yours as you gave a small nod, clearly not believing her.
"oh my love, really i am excited! we're going to do all that stuff you just said and i want to learn about your traditions and what you like doing for christmas. a summer christmas is just new for me thats all! but new things aren't bad things." alessia pushed, thumbs stroking your jawline and feeling the obvious tension in your body drop just a little at her words.
"less are you sure? it wouldn't be easy but we can find a flight back for you before christmas eve." you questioned, the taller girl nodding enthusiastically and leaning in to press her lips sweetly against yours a few times.
"more than sure, there's no need for that at all. this is no different to when you stayed in england with me and had a winter christmas last year, and you were nothing but cheerful and sweet and lovely the entire time." the blonde promised with another nod, stealing a few more kisses as the corners of your mouth upturned a little.
"mm theres that smile, welcome back." the striker grinned happily, a laugh finally leaving you as she practically tackled you back to the bed, moving on top of you as her hair fell around the pair of you like a curtain.
"i wasn't the one with the smiling problem russo." you poked her as she winced sheepishly. "i know. but from now on, i will embrace these new experiences with open arms!" the english woman announced, laying down on top of you and kissing all over your face.
"i'm happy to hear that." "yeah? i'm happy to say it." "good, because its thirty two degrees outside right now and the air cons only in the living room." you scrunched your nose up as the blonde faltered, taking a deep breath and exhaling.
"thats fine! i'm fine. lets just go to the beach!"
~
it turns out you and your girlfriend clearly had different expectations of what open arms and a beach day meant, as alessia lay on the beach recharging herself in the sun and you'd spent the entire time begging she get in the water with you.
"lessi come on! what happened to being open to new experiences?" you groaned, stealing her sunglasses and slipping them over your nose as she squinted up at you, sheltering her eyes with her hand.
"give!" the blonde demanded, making grabby hands as you shook your head and shuffled back on your knees. "swim!" you countered, smacking her thigh gently as she sighed heavily.
"swimming in december feels illegal." "not going in the water when you're at the beach is illegal." "babe the waves are huge, i'll get...what did you call it again?" "mm, dumped? we're not going surfing alessia!" you laughed, pushing her hand away where she reached for her sunglasses back again.
"but tanning feels so nice!" the blonde whined, arms covering her face. "you'll have plenty of time to get sunburnt like a little lobster baby, i promise." you cooed sarcastically, your girlfriend shoving you and finally sitting up on her towel.
"that was one time." "lessi its every time, you refuse to wear sunscreen!" "sun cream, and because it feels...sticky." "well does crying about how much it hurts to shower and peeling off your burnt skin feel better?" you countered quickly, the striker opening and closing her mouth.
"come on!" you hopped up to your feet, holding out your hand toward her and wiggling your fingers impatiently. "you know your persistence is incredibly irritating." alessia gave in, grabbing your hand as you pulled her up to stand.
"and here you used to find it endearing." you teased, the blondes hand smacking against your ass as you blushed and pushed her. "theres families here!" you warned as the girl smiled, simply shrugging and interlocking her fingers with yours as you tossed her sunglasses onto her towel and lead her down to the waters edge.
"how do you get in without being smashed by the waves?" her grip on you tightened as another set came rolling in. "timing. you see how the waves all crash here? thats the breaking point, once the last wave crashed you move past that, and then you just duck dive under the big ones until you get out the back!" you explained, the english woman staring on clueless as you laughed.
"come on, on three we run into the water. one, two..." again her grip on your hand tightened but she nodded none the less. "go!" you raced off but felt her hand slip out of yours, glancing back as alessia shook her head and remained rooted in position.
"how is it thirty five degrees and the water is freezing cold?" the striker scoffed having stepped one foot in and recoiled immediately as you grinned at her from the shallows.
"i swear babe if you say something about mother nature when i get out there i'll drown you!" the blonde warned seriously as you held up your hands, glancing over your shoulder.
"okay now, go baby!" you encouraged, waving for her to run to you, a moments hesitation passing before she gingerly waded in, wincing every few steps until finally she'd made it past the break point, the water barely up to her hips.
"jesus christ i'm going to get hypothermia!" the older girl wrapped her arms around herself with a shiver making you roll your eyes. "but i'm the dramatic one?" you questioned in disbelief. "no not dramatic baby, sensitive." the girl patted your cheek condescendingly with a pout as you narrowed your eyes at her.
"dickhead." you poked her with a shake of your head. "do you want to know a secret to adjusting to the water faster?" you asked as your girlfriend nodded eagerly.
"well its quite simple, you just get your head wet!" you grinned and before the taller girl could blink you'd barreled into her, sending her toppling over into the water as she surfaced with a gasp.
"oh you're dead." you squealed as you were tugged down into the water with her, plunged in head first before you popped back up with a cough, having swallowed a lungful of water in the purpose.
"hey you said snowball fights was a big thing in england?" you questioned, the two of you moving into water a little deeper as alessia nodded. "well we can do that too." you promised as the girl looked at you clearly confused.
"how? theres no snow." "no, but there is sand!" you grinned, smacking a handful of wet sand from the ocean floor into her hair as she gasped.
"are you fucking kidding-" "wave! duck!" you interrupted, grabbing her by the arm and pulling the pair of you under, tugging her out to swim even deeper past where the waves started and you could relax a little more.
"it was a joke!" you laughed as your girlfriend launched at you once you did, latching onto you and forcing your head back underwater with a grunt, the two of you wrestling in the water before you yelled for a truce.
"maybe this isn't so bad." the blonde admitted, swimming up behind you, arms circling your waist and her chin making a home on your shoulder as the pair of you stared back toward the beach, the water now calm and bright turquoise, sparkling where it was hit with the sun.
"thank you for agreeing to come." you turned your head, capturing her lips in hers with a soft smile. "thank you for asking me to come." alessia squeezed you appreciatively before you both turned back to your people watching.
"are they playing...cricket?" your girlfriend asked in bewilderment watching a young family race back and forth across the sand. "yeah! beach cricket, an aussie classic. but not surpassed by backyard cricket, which you'll get to experience on christmas day." you explained as the blonde hummed curiously.
"really?" "yeah! we have a tournament every year with the whole family even my nan and pop, between lunch and presents." "so we do christmas lunch, not dinner, right?"
you nodded, answering a few more questions about what the next few days had lined up for the pair of you, stopping your explanation of why santa was left a beer and not milk when familiar lips started to trail across your neck.
"you're going to get us in trouble if you leave a mark russo." you chuckled in warning, relaxing in her hold as the striker merely hummed, your eyes closing as your face was bathed in sunshine and soft kisses were peppered down your jaw.
"well your mums already made it very clear that i have permission." you groaned at that, pushing her away and pulling a face. "well you've ruined the mood with that haven't you." you huffed, starting to wander back in until fingers hooked into the sides of your bikini bottoms and tugged you backwards.
"i'm sorry! i've just never met a woman who took such healthy interest in her daughters sex life." alessia teased, your response swallowed with her mouth pressing to yours with a cheeky grin.
"its not funny! its humiliating she has no boundaries and we're stuck with her for the next week." you groaned, head resting against her shoulder as the girls thumbs traced circles against your hips, the two of you staying in your childhood home where everyone would be gathering for the holidays.
"baby its not that bad. she's just very...progressive! and supportive." "you know i think if you were a boy she'd have left condoms on the side table and the book of karma sutra on the bed."
~
"santa came get up get up get up!" you groggily lifted your head feeling three little bodies jump up and down on top of you, alessia stirring next to you with a tired exhale.
"are you awake yet? wake up!" one of your nieces shouted in your ear as you tiredly lifted a hand and made a thumbs up, the three young girls belonging to your older brother taking that as a yes and jumping down, racing off to wake up the rest of the family.
you exhaled tiredly, dragging your hands down your face and jolting as your door swung open again. "hope no ones naked! merry christmas girls, up we get!" your mum sung out, flinging open your blinds as you groaned.
"jesus christ mum come on!" your cheeks flushed red at her brash words feeling alessias body vibrate with a small chuckle beside you as the woman shrugged, flicking on your light and striding on out again.
"i think i'm adopted." you grumbled, rolling over and burying your face in your girlfriends shoulder. "well thats quite the wake up." the brit rasped out with another chuckle, hand rubbing up and down your back soothingly.
"merry christmas less." you pulled back and rested your head on your pillow again, bright blue eyes and a tired smile staring back at you. "merry christmas love." she repeated, pecking your lips quickly given neither of you had brushed your teeth yet.
"get up!" you both winced as a hand smacked against the wood of your door, your brother flipping you off in the doorway as you rolled your eyes and forced yourself up into a sitting position, alessia rubbing her eyes and exhaling, face still puffy with sleep.
"how is it already hot?" the english woman groaned in disbelief, the two of you sleeping under a thin sheet and even then barely able to touch one another bar a bit of hand holding when you were dozing off due to the thick humidity of your childhood bedroom.
"welcome to your first summer christmas." you laughed, running a hand through her hair as she hummed, the two of you gradually getting out of bed and already hearing the commotion of your family downstairs.
"mum no photos! its seven in the fucking morning." you groaned, wincing at the obvious click of her phone camera shoved in your face as you and alessia stumbled into the kitchen.
"oi you watch your fucking mouth!" your dad chimed in with a point making your girlfriend laugh and your eyes roll as the pair of you followed everyone into the living room.
"look look! this ones for me!" your eldest niece gasped, all three of them already riffling through the mountain of presents as you sent her an encouraging smile and collapsed onto the corner of the sofa.
alessia took a seat beside you as you slung one of your legs over hers, the pair of you exhaling in relief at the air con blasting right above you and wishing a merry christmas the rest of your family who were lounging around the room, your dad taking charge to handing out presents.
"oh thank you!" your girlfriend smiled appreciatively as he handed the pair of you one each, labeled from santa which you knew meant they were from your mum which was what you whispered in the blondes ear who chuckled and squeezed your knee.
though as you began to unwrap yours you realized very quickly you may have been a little too quick with your excitement, catching the word 'dental dams' on the side of the box and stuffing it down the side of the sofa before anyone else could see.
"oh my god mum!" "what? santa just wants you to be safe darling!"
#alessia russo x reader#alessia russo imagine#alessia russo#christmas fic#woso x reader#woso community#woso#woso fanfics#woso blurbs#woso imagine
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Heart: Christmas
Mapi León x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader
Summary: Christmas with Sunshine
"You looking forward to it?" Frido asks as she crouches down at your side in training. "Santa's coming soon. Have your mummies made you write your letter yet?"
You look up from your colouring book, pausing in the movement of dragging the pink crayon over the mermaid picture. "We did them with our teacher," You answer, nodding to yourself as you switch from pink to purple.
"Has it been sent yet?"
You frown. "Where is it meant to go?"
Frido laughs, fondly pushing your hair out of your face. "To the North Pole."
"Oh." You look down at your colouring book. "I've never sent a letter before. Santa always just knows what I want." You rub at your chest, where the Santa Heart from last year beats.
You hadn't needed to write him a fancy letter to send off to the North Pole. He had just known you needed a special new heart like how the doctors knew and how Ingrid and Mapi knew.
He just did and he'd delivered.
He'd gotten you the new heart that's been in your chest for nearly a whole year now.
You frown a little, trying to work your mind through the idea of sending a letter to Santa.
"Does everyone send a letter to him?"
"Oh, yes," Frido says, nodding her head as she hands you the orange crayon you'd pointed at," Everyone."
"Even you?"
"Even me."
"What did you ask him for?"
"I asked...I asked for my boyfriend to cook us some good food?"
You scrawl the orange crayon across the little crab at the corner of the mermaid page. "That's a good idea." You swap your crayon for green to colour in the seaweed. "And everyone has sent their letters already?"
"They have."
"Can I ask what other people asked for?"
"Sure, let's go."
Ingrid smiles from a distance as Frido leads you around the pitch while everyone takes a water break
She can't quite imagine what her and Mapi's life would have been without you now that it's coming up to a year since you had received your new heart.
She can't imagine what would have been different if she hadn't met you in that hospital bed. She can't quite imagine what the team would be like without you around either, a little breath of fresh air with an even smaller camera in your hands clicking away at every possible moment.
The same little hands that hold your favourite camera now tug at Ingrid's shorts until she looks down.
"What did you ask for in your Santa letter?" You ask.
"Huh? My Santa letter?"
"Yeah, Ingrid," Frido says pointedly," The Santa letter that everyone writes and sends off to Santa."
"Oh, yeah!" Ingrid catches on quickly," That Santa letter! Well...I asked Santa to make sure that me, you and your Mami have a good day on Christmas and get to sleep in before presents!"
You nod along with a little furrow in your brow, like you're trying to commit it to memory or something.
You grab onto Ingrid's legs quickly, squeezing them into a hug before hurrying off across the pitch to where Alexia is talking to Irene and Marta - no doubt to ask them the same question.
You don't ever really explain why you went around asking everyone what they wrote in their Santa letters and Ingrid's content to let her curiosity go unquenched with that one.
It's not an overwhelmingly pressing issue to her. It's one she only thinks briefly of when the team come over for a Christmas party before everyone goes home for the holidays.
You're sat at the little coffee table in front of the tv, enraptured by another kid's movie that Alexia's set Mija up next to you to watch.
Mapi sits next to Ingrid on the sofa, filling up her wine glass again when she thinks Ingrid isn't looking.
"Do we think we got her everything she asked for?" Mapi asks, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth," I don't want her to have anything missing from her pile."
"We've got everything," Ingrid assures her," Trust me. Absolutely everything she asked for, we've gotten her."
"Even that Barbie camera that prints off the photos? I don't remember wrapping it! Do you think they'll still have it in the store?" Mapi stands up suddenly, the words flooding out of her mouth so quickly that Ingrid nearly struggles to keep up. "I'll head out now and check. Don't wait up for me. I might be a while."
Ingrid pulls her back down. "My parents got it for her. It's in the pile."
"Definitely?" Mapi checks. "They confirmed it? They bought her the actual one she liked, yeah? Not like a knock off version?"
Ingrid laughs. "They got her the proper one. I checked."
Mapi finally breathes a sigh of relief at that, settling back down into her seat for a moment before slipping off the sofa to join you and Alexia's daughter on the floor with the movie.
"You know I love you right, sunshine?" She mumbles into your hair and you peer back to look at her.
"I know," You say," I love you and Mama too."
"Yeah?"
"Uh-huh! I'm glad Santa gave you to me."
"I'm glad Santa gave you to us too."
You turn then, fully into Mapi's lap as you look at her.
"I wrote a letter to Santa," You say," My teacher helped. Is it too late to send?"
Mapi shakes her head. "It's never too late to send. Why don't you go and get it and me and Mama will get ready to post it?"
The letter is written on a tiny scrap of paper when you return from your bedroom, holding it out in front of you as you wait for Mapi and Ingrid to prepare the envelope for it to go into.
You decorate it with little stickers and Ingrid helps you write Santa's address on it before bundling you up in your coat, hat and scarf to walk down to the post box on the street.
"Mama," You ask," Can you lift me please?"
Ingrid lifts you up easily in her arms so you're just tall enough to reach the post box to slip your letter inside.
"And Santa will get it before Christmas? I'm sorry I left it late," You ask as you're tucked into bed that night.
"You know," Mapi says as she pulls the covers all the way up to your chin," Every night before Christmas, Santa's elves go to all the post boxes in the world to check for his letters and they bring them all back that night!"
"Really?"
"Really," Ingrid agrees, gently locking the door to Starshine and Moonshine's cage," And Santa reads them with a mug of warm milk and cookies so he can prepare for Christmas."
"So he'll be able to make sure he can definitely do what I've asked for?"
Mapi smiles, crossing her fingers and hoping that what you've written in the letter is something that's already been bought for you. "What did you ask for?"
"For everyone else to get what they asked him for. I took it back to school and my teacher helped me write what everyone wanted so Santa doesn't forget."
"You're so sweet," Ingrid says.
"And Santa will make sure everyone gets what they wanted?"
"He will. I'm sure he's so grateful that you reminded him."
You nod, settling down in bed. "Good. No one should be sad on Christmas."
#woso x reader#mapi leon x reader#mapi leon#ingrid engen x reader#ingrid engen#woso community#woso imagine#woso fanfics#woso
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you're here, that's the thing ˚⟡˖ ࣪ - franco colapinto
summary: your boyfriend tries his best to make your schedules, as a racer and student, work - even when miles apart w/c: 900
a/n: it's finals season for me and i needed to write something self-indulgent as a break from cramming forgive me 🙏
Being a full-time student was one thing, but being a full-time student in a relationship with an extremely clingy boyfriend, who also happened to be travelling the world to race in Formula One, was a whole other challenge.
You and Franco had had some time to adjust to a long-distance relationship since you started dating, having such different lives, and managed to make it work for the most part. But now, with him having to wholly commit to his racing and finals season rolling around for you, it put a strain on your relationship that neither of you was ready for.
It was a strange paradox - the less free time you had outside of classes and studying, the less you were able to spend talking to him, and the more you wanted just to drop everything and fly to where he was. Your morning texts and voice message updates stopped being enough, and before you knew it you struggled to go longer than an hour studying without sending your boyfriend a message to whine and complain.
You were fully aware of how immature and irresponsible this was, but this awareness did little to stop you. And it didn't exactly help that Franco seemed to share the same sentiment, telling you again and again how hard it was for him as well, how racing seemed almost impossible without you there to cheer him on. It hurt, but the two of you just had to do everything you could to get through it - for you to focus on your studies and for him to try his best at racing.
All this came to a head one Sunday though, the afternoon before one of your final exams and - because of the time difference - the night before Franco's next race. Sitting in your dorm alone, surrounded by piles of textbooks, notes and scattered pens you felt a sudden jolt of vulnerability and before you knew it you were reaching for your phone.
"Can you call?" you typed quickly to your boyfriend, your eyes lighting up upon seeing the three dots begin moving almost instantly.
"My gosh, I was just going to ask you the same thing," he replied, and before you knew it your phone was springing to life with a call from him. Clicking accept, you couldn't help but smile widely at the sight of his face.
"Hi," you say, almost shyly.
"Hi baby, how are you?"
"Good," you pause, "stressed."
He nods understandingly, "You're holding up okay, hm? Taking care of yourself?"
"Of course, Franco," you laugh at his almost motherly concern, "and you?"
"Nervous, of course."
"Well, that makes two of us." You pause after speaking, for some reason this call is turning out less enjoyable and more awkward than you hoped.
"I'm sorry, I'm just really tired," you hear your boyfriend say and when you look up you can definitely see it, his eyelids half closing over deep, dark circles under them.
"Do you want to sleep? I have to study anyways."
You watch as he chews his bottom lip, thinking of what to say though once he finally talks his voice is small, almost like a confession. "But I wanted to talk to you."
"We are talking Franco, and we can talk tomorrow once you rest."
This doesn't seem to quell his worries though, his brows still knitted in thought. "I just feel so useless knowing that you're struggling and stressed and I can't even keep you company like I normally do."
You nod sympathetically until an idea pops into your head. "We can keep the call on, carry me over to your bed - you'll sleep and I'll study."
Even through the fatigue pulling him down, Franco nods enthusiastically, doing as you say. You watch him sink into the plush white bedsheets of whatever hotel he's in, and whilst you feel a little jealous at his ability to rest right now, you turn back to your desk and start pulling out your notes.
"You'll be okay," you hear him mumble.
"What do you mean?"
"With your exams," he smiles sleepily, eyes flitting as he watches you pick up your highlighters and pens, "you're the smartest person I know."
"I don't know how much that's saying, you didn't even finish high school baby."
"Hey! I was trying to be nice," he says, feigning offence though there's a soft smile across his face.
"You're right, I'm sorry," you laugh, "you'll be okay as well, with your race tomorrow."
"I hope so."
"I know so."
"I wish you were here," he sighs, looking at you earnestly and all you can do is give him a nod in agreement.
"But for now," you wave your pen to hint at the fact that you need to get back to cramming and he seems to get the hint.
"Right, right, you won't even know I'm here," he assures you.
And despite that, the entire night passes without you once forgetting it. Not that he's distracting or anything, in fact he falls asleep mere minutes after telling you that - leaving you to work peacefully for the rest of the night. Instead, his presence, even as he sleeps, even through a screen and halfway across the world, is enough. You find yourself smiling as you study because maybe having a long-distance boyfriend, even one as clingy as Franco, has been a blessing in disguise all this time.
#franco colapinto#franco colapinto x reader#franco colapinto x you#franco colapinto imagine#franco colapinto fanfic#franco colapinto fluff#franco colapinto oneshot#williams racing#williams f1#formula one fanfic#formula one x reader#formula one fluff#formula one#purinfelix#jet writes ★
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hiii could i pls get hocus pocus rolls, pumpkin patch brownies and a dead velvet cake with a side of doctor pepper, white claw, pepsi zero and a gummy bear cocktail served by lando?? love ur fics!!
halloween bakery - bakery menu
the halloween menu is available until nov 2nd! so get those orders in during the meantime! thank you to everyone who has submitted, i'm trying to get them done in a timely manner! writing these prompts has allowed me to help manage some of my seasonal depression & chronic pains.
hocus pocus rolls: "next year you're wearing something that covers more." + pumpkin patch brownies: "you should've worn something a little thicker. you're going to catch a cold." + dead velvet cake: "we can't fuck right now. we have to hand out candy!" + doctor pepper: university au + white claw: slutty costumes + pepsi zero: rough sex + gummy bear cocktail: possessive behavior served by lando norris (formula one)!!
tags: smut/pwp, university au, slutty costumes, possessive behavior, rough sex, football (soccer) player!lando, protected sex, missionary style
"it's so cold tonight!" you yelped as you walked with your boyfriend to the house that he lived in with the rest of the football team. even though you were wearing a light jacket, the wind cut through it.
lando had a possessive hand on your lower back as the two of you walked across campus as the sun went down. he pulled at the back of the jacket a little and said, "you should've worn something a little thicker. you're going to catch a cold."
"well, they said it was going to be plus ten, so i thought this would be enough!"
lando remarked, "i think it would've been fine if you didn't wear such a thin costume." he gave your ass a quick squeeze, feeling the cheap material of the outfit under his palm.
lando knew the costume was slutty. how could he not? the jacket you wore couldn't cover up just how much that costume revealed. you were dressed as a cheerleader this year, and while that was a fantasy for lando. he would've preferred if the outfit wasn't being pranced around the house.
he was on the couch during the party. he was dressed in his football uniform and that was his 'costume' with his windbreaker jacket over it. he eyed you up and down as you chatted and drank. you looked cute. adorable even. your charm pulled people in.
there was a knock on the door and you went to answer it. your heels clicked against the hardwood floor but was drowned out by the loud music. lando got up from the couch and was close behind you. when you opened the door to hand out candy to those not invited to the party. he wrapped you up in his jacket.
"lando!" you yelped as the mini chocolate bars fell out of your hand
"next year you're wearing something that covers more." he then pulled you away from the door which caused you to flail as the candy fell from your hands, "you look too good, babe. i think that's enough for their eyes." he said as he hauled you upstairs.
you swore you heard lando's teammate, oscar, laugh over the thump of the music. you whined, "we can't fuck right now. we have to hand out candy!"
when lando got you to the bedrooms upstairs, he wrapped his strong arms around you, "someone else can do it. let the captain or someone else. i don't care. i just need you right now." he said. it was hard to hide an erection in those shorts.
lando's room was nice, but you had little time to admire the photos of you he had pinned to the wall before you were on the bed. you bounced on it as you fell on top of it. your breasts bounced and it only made lando more hungry for you.
"there's my little cheerleader." he said as he cupped his cock in his shorts, "you come to every game with my number across your pretty tits. you wear my last name like its yours." he chuckled before he pulled the jersey top off, "you hoping for a ring after graduation."
you blushed and wanted to push him away, but he pulled you in closer. you giggled when he kissed you, "i think you're buying ring before i can even think about it." you reached down and touched his cock in his shorts before they were pulled off and sent to the ground.
he chuckled before his lips touched your neck, "well, when you're my wife. this little outfit will be for my eyes only. i don't need all of the school to have their eyes on you. hungry like animals." you moaned when his kisses continued.
lando knew how to make you feel good, the kind of toe curling feeling that made it very easy for him to get you out of your costume. at least he didn't tear the thing off of you! his kisses continued as his clothed cock brushed against you. you knew he was painfully erect.
"my angel." he said, "prettiest girl on campus. fuck, you drive me crazy." he groaned a little bit when he eventually got his briefs off and let him rubbed his achy cock against you, "you have no idea how crazy you drive me."
you moaned, "please, lando."
you knew what everyone adored your boyfriend, he was great at what he did on the field and in the classroom. but he only had eyes for you, he yearned for you as his hands trailed up your sides. you were both naked on his bed, not the first time that had happened. but every time you were intimate with your boyfriend it felt special.
"i want you, i want you to badly." he got you onto your back and hiked your hips up against him where you wrapped your legs around his waist. he leaned forward and grabbed a condom from nightstand. you two had to play it safe, you were both still in school.
you replied, "i love you."
"i love you too, fuck, you look too perfect in the costume. i didn't know something could fit you so well." he chuckled as he leaned back a little to get the condom on.
you felt anticipation run through you as you laid out under him. you admired him. his toned body and bright smile. you could make out the pink in his cheeks from the immense pleasure between you two. to be fucking in the quietness of his bedroom while there was a party outside.
"i don't want you to have anyone else." he said as he gave his cock a few strokes to make sure the condom was on there securely. he then loomed over you with his hands at your hips as he sank his cock into you. your toes curled and your back arched at the feeling of him.
you held onto the covers under you, the same covers that you picked out for him. the soft blue that went with the minimal decor of his bedroom.
lando loved you and respected opinions you had, even if it was something simple like a nice bed spread. because at the end of the day, he still got to fuck you against the covers. the bed squeaked a little bit and lando realized that he had to slow his pace down. but where he lacked in speed, he made up in strength. and he roughly fucked you, slowly, making you feel every inch of him as he buried over seven inches inside of your achy cunt.
he needed you just as much as you needed him. he felt like a winner when he played with you in the stands. you watched him put his all into football and you loved him dearly. he never though he'd get that with anyone else. so that was why he was so possessive at times. he didn't want to lose you, you were everything to him.
and you dressed as a slutty cheerleader wasn't soothing the growl in lando's soul as he rutted against you. you were just so beautiful and the words hung on his tongue, but he couldn't say the words as the feeling of pleasure rushed through his body.
"such a pretty girl." he said as he rocked against you. he loved the feeling of your legs around his waist, he thrusted up into you and you felt amazing.
the pace was rough enough that it made the curl of pleasure bloom in your gut. you knew only lando could make you feel this good, make your core throb with want as he fucked you. your noises got a little louder but lando leaned in to kiss you on the lips.
no need to cause a scene at the party tonight. but, lando knew that at the very least oscar knew what you two were up to. you moaned against the kiss and wrapped your arms around him as he worked your body further. you shifted under his grip on you which only spurred him on further to make a mess of your pretty pussy.
"you look so good under me." he said, "no other guy can have you like this. only me." he chuckled a little, his voice tight from the pleasure as he worked his hips against you. you groaned a little louder as you clung to him, "part of me wants them to know, to all know exactly how you make me feel.
his words curled something in you and you felt the jump of lust inside of you. the pleasure coursed through you as the two of you fucked on the bed. your costumes were left discarded to be picked up in the morning. if you left the room before the party was over, you'd be wearing lando's clothes. not that slutty costume.
"please, lando." you whined as the pleasure worked through you. you knew from the first time he made you cum with his fingers and tongue alone that you'd be in for a world of pleasure with your boyfriend by your side.
"i always make you feel good, babe." he said with tenderness in his voice. he continued to fuck you, he grabbed your hips once more and hiked them up further to get a better angle of your sweet cunt.
the pace staggered, and the pace quickened despite the noise. it didn't help that the two of you were getting louder as you approached your climax. he whispered filthy nothings into your ear, about how hot you looked and how good he wanted to make you feel. it allowed the heat to bloom in your core as you felt orgasm wash over you.
you whined and arched you back, before you could get too loud, your ever loving boyfriend kissed you on the lips tightly. he continued to move against you, heavy, rough strokes that left you feeling on cloud nine. he came soon after with a heavy stroke and you both felt amazing.
"shit, babe."
you both laid out on the bed while the thump of the music downstairs reverberated through the bedroom. you both laid in each other's grasp and softly kissed. lando had gotten rid of the condom already and you two just laid under the covers together.
eventually you heard a knock on the door and oscar's voice, "hey, mate. party's wrapping up, i know you're busy with your girlfriend, but we need all the man power can get to get everyone out."
lando looked at you and kissed you on the cheek before he got out of bed to get dressed. before he left the room he said to you, "stay here, and don't put that costume on unless you want to limp back to your dorm tomorrow." and gave you a wink <3
#bunny writes#halloween bakery#reader insert#formula 1#formula one imagine#formula one fanfiction#f1 x reader#formula one smut#f1 smut#lando norris imagine#lando#lando norris#lando norris smut#lando norris x reader#lando norris fanfic#lando smut#lando x reader#ln4 smut#ln4 fluff#ln4 imagine#ln4 x reader#ln4 fic#ln4#halloween fic
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