#all the bright colors suit her well

[vampireoccult]

>has the url vampireoccult >icon is an alien

#rae.txt #can u guess who my new fav sim is. #i need to download more 60s inspired clothing for her she's so cute in it #all the bright colors suit her well

[lxkeee]

TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN

—PART TWO

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: Angst (for now)

Warnings: Daddy issues.

Notes: Glad you guys loved the first part despite it being so short.

PART ONE | PART THREE | NAVIGATION

The sunlight passed by the small gaps of the curtains, shining down on the face of a sleeping boy. Light blond hair messy but perfectly framing his beautiful face, red circles on his pale cheeks, a pop of color. He groans as he buries his face underneath the large fluffy white blanket, eventually groaning as he opens his eyes, [e/c] eyes adjusting to the brightness of his room. Sitting up on his queen sized bed that is surrounded by pillows. As much as he wants to sleep in, he has duties as an angel and as the son of [y/n] Caeles.

Getting out of bed, slipping his feet into the fluffy white slippers. He moved across his large room, stopping by a large mirror.

He frowns when sees his reflection, the only thing he can see is his deadbeat father who left his mother for another woman.

He hated it, he could see his supposed father staring back at him through the mirror. The fallen angel, Lucifer staring right back at him. A cruel reminder that he is his father's son.

He's thankful he has her eyes, at least he was able to have a piece of her on him. He hated his father, his mother never hid his father from him and told him everything what he wanted to know. He'd do anything for his mother. He loves her so much.

He knows that his mother often gets sad when he sees him, he knows because she could see the man that hurt her on his face. He doesn't blame her. He hated his face too, despite it being heaven's most beautiful facial features. He wished he had his mother's face instead.

Getting a large robe that was placed on the cushioned chair, draping it over his body. Time to get ready, he has a lot of work to do.

[Y/n] looks up from her newspaper, seeing her son finally entering the dining room, dressed in his military like uniform but in colors of white and gold. She sat on one of the chairs of the dining table, a breakfast already made by yours truly—pancakes and bacon and of course, two cups of steaming black coffee.

[Y/n]'s eyes lit up when she saw her son, “Good morning Xavier, did you sleep well?” she asked with a small smile, watching as the boy sat next to her. Xavier gave his mother a close eyed smile.

“Good morning to you too, mother. You look very beautiful this morning.” he says softly, closing his eyes as he felt his mother's hand ruffle his hair, playfully groaning. “Hey! I just brushed my hair.” Xavier says with a small pout and [y/n] chuckles and places a gentle kiss on the boy's forehead.

“I couldn't help it, my boy is just the sweetest.” [y/n] says and Xavier blushes softly and just chuckles.

“It is because I have the most amazing mother in the whole world, that's why.” he says.

[Y/n] smiled at him, “Oh, you... Aren't you just the sweetest?” she giggled and he just chuckled.

The two made a sign of the cross, praying to say thank you for the blessings they have received. Finishing the prayer, the two finally ate breakfast.

“So you're going to be training with your uncle today?” [y/n] asked, looking at the young man beside her. Xavier nodded, he would be training with Uncle Michael today.

“Yes, mother. I am hoping he can help me improve on how to fight.” He says with a small smile and [y/n] squished the young man's cheek, the latter pouting.

“I know you'll do great, you make me so proud.” [y/n] says softly and Xavier had to try so hard not to cry. He loves it when he makes her happy, his mom deserves the whole world after all.

“Thanks, mom.” he says softly and her eyes soften and they continue to eat breakfast.

After breakfast, Xavier helped his mother clean up the table and offered to wash the dishes. [Y/n] wanted to insist on doing it as she feared it would dirty his suit but the boy insisted. He just rolled up the sleeves and wore an apron.

When he was done doing his morning routine, he walked to the living room to see his mom already dressed for work. His eyes saddened, he won't be seeing her for a couple of days again.

Walking towards his mother, the older woman hugged her son. “Don't miss me too much, dearie.” [y/n] says with a giggle. Her hand rubbing circles on the boy's back.

“I'll try not to. I'm just worried.” Xavier says softly, he doesn't like it when she leaves to go to the mortal realm. He worries for her physically and mentally. Humans, human way of living is very... Mentally unhealthy and he fears it will affect his mother too.

[Y/n] smiled softly, patting the boys light blond hair. “Do not worry about me, Azrael would be there to protect me if needed.” she says with a smile.

With the mention of the angel of death, Xavier sees the older man like a father figure. The man has always been present in his life.

Xavier smiled and nodded, “Alright.”

[Y/n] smiles, “Good luck with training, don't overwork okay? Summon me if you must.” she says sternly as the two finally let go of the hug, her hand was placed on her waist.

Xavier nodded, “I promise and I will make you proud.”

[Y/n] grins, “That's my boy,” she says and snapped her fingers and a portal appeared, “Goodluck kiddo, I'll see you in a few days.” she says softly and places a kiss on his forehead before going inside the portal. The portal closes.

Taking one last look of himself on the mirror, the face of his biological father staring back at him. Xavier rolls his eyes and scoffed. Unrolling his sleeves, adjusting his collar. Unfurling his large and majestic white wings. It's time to train, he promised to become one of heaven's protector and he promised he'll rise the ranks and join his mother.

Training with his uncle went by smoothly, he did lost but at least he learned something. Xavier was flying around heaven, wanting to return home but his eyes landed on a familiar seraphim. Emily, his heart started to beat faster. He always liked the girl, the girl is pretty and kind, okay?

His eyes landed on the person wearing such bright red suit. An eyesore, really. A pop of color in heaven.

Xavier tilted his head and decided to approach the girls.

Emily jumped slightly in surprise, seeing the beautiful and handsome and nonchalant looking young general that is her friend landed beside her gracefully.

Yes, Xavier puts up a front in public. He doesn't want others to know he's a total Mama's boy.

Xavier nodded and gave Emily a gentle smile, “Greetings, Emily. Off to showing off a new soul around?” he asked, voice gentle and calm.

Emily grinned and blushed slightly, nodding. “Not exactly a new resident, just a visitor.” Emily explained and Xavier turned to look at this supposed visitor and he could feel himself freeze slightly.

Who wouldn't freeze when seeing the same face as you but in the opposite gender.

“Xavier, this is Charlotte Morningstar...” Emily says hesitantly, now remembering who's the biological father of the boy.

Xavier's eyes narrowed but was quickly replaced as he gave the new girl a closed eyed smile, a forced one. “Really? So that makes you my half sister then?” Xavier says with a grin and Charlie's whole being froze.

Emily looked at the two nervously, she knows Xavier isn't violent but she does know how the boy hates his biological father to the core.

“... Half sister...?” Charlie asked, her voice in disbelief.

“Indeed! We share the same father. It is a pleasure to meet you, Charlotte.” Xavier says with a grin but his eyes dull, no longer have the usual shine on them. Charlie was nervous, she doesn't know how to act around the boy. She knows he isn't lying because the boy literally looks like her father.

“How rude of me,” Xavier says with a small gasp, “Let me properly introduce myself, I am Xavier Caeles. Son of [y/n] Caeles. It is a pleasure to meet you, dear sister.” he says with a smirk, looking down on the girl (literally because he's taller than her, a trait he is thankful that he inherited from his mother. Good Lord, he would be miserable if he had his father's height), offering his hand for a handshake which the girl hesitantly and nervously returned.

“It is nice to meet you too... Xavier..” she says and Xavier grins, Emily just looked at the two nervously. Thanking that a fight nor an argument haven't started yet.

“It was a pleasure meeting you but I must go, I still have far more important matters to attend to. Emily, I'll catch up to you later.” Xavier says with a small smile, turning his back from the two girls.

Before he flies away, he stopped. Not bothering to look at his half sister, “Tell our dear father I said hi, okay? Farewell.” he says, not a single emotion in his voice. He quickly spreads his wings and flew off.

“Stars... I didn't expect to see my half sister today..” Xavier murmurs to himself as he flies back home.

Meanwhile, Charlie stood in disbelief next to Emily. Turning around to look at the Seraphim, “Was he really my...?” Charlie asked hesitantly and Emily nodded with a small sad smile, “Yes but it's not my story to tell.” Emily explained softly and Charlie nodded.

“Let us just continue showing you around, yeah?” Emily says softly and the princess of hell nodded.

Emily knows that Xavier's interest has been piqued. She knows he'll be there during the meeting now that he knows his half sister is going to be there.

End Notes: I forgot to mention, reader's work clothes are the same as Arlecchino from Genshin Impact wears.

Taglist:

@valerie-36 @blackbleedingrose @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @cadelinhadochoso

#lxkeee answers #hazbin hotel #lxkeee updates #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #lucifer #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel x reader

[deadghosy]

Hear me out

What about a moth! reader

Like the moth from sky! Children of the light that likes to fly around the hotel and honk at people sense they can't speak

And them giving candles as a way to ask"do you wanna be friends??"

(this is my first time ever requesting something so sorry if it doesn't make sense, feel free to ignore this く⁠コ⁠:⁠彡)

……ANON MARRY ME RN CAUSE I USE TO PLAY THE HELL OUT OF THAT GAME!! RN MARRY ME

HAZBIN HOTEL X MOTH COTL! READER

prompt: a cute moth character enters the ring of hell due to a malfunction of the realms

STORY MODE: you were celebrating days of love as your ikemen softly puts a flower crown on your head as you honk happily. You hugged the Ikemen as he hugs you back, lifting you for a hug spin as he chuckles lowly.

He lifted you on his back as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. He pointed towards the valley realm as they wanted to celebrate your one year anniversary together. You started to spam honk excitedly as the Ikemen nods and runs into the realm. But something went wrong.

END OF STORY MODE: You just stand there as you smell blood and fire in the air. You were confused as you didn’t see your beloved Ikemen anywhere which made you honk out loud…you didn’t see their name either. You inhaled all the air you could and let out a big HONK! That got you the attention of a fellow moth man who smirked behind you. You jolted with a quick honk as Valentino poked your mask. “My my my~ what a cute little thing you are.” Valentino says picking you up like a child.

You didn’t want to die so immediately you pulled out your candle. That made Valentino drawn to the candle as he squeaks happily at the candle and take it. Before Valentino could talk to you, an arm grabbed you and sped away.

Who was the culprit who took you, it was Angel dust in his pink scooter. (A/n: don’t question the scooter) Angel heard that big ass honk and a light as he was curious and went to go look for it only to see you shaking in Valentino’s hold. He didn’t want to save you, but your small frame was shaking and he couldn’t stand it so he had to save you.

And now you are part of the hotel’s crew as they greet you with open arms.

Angel loves you dearly, you immediately warmed up to him giving him a bright white candle as his eyes shined at the light of the candle shaping like a heart. So when Angel took it and it dissolved in his hands. You were so happy you kept spam hugging him.

You literally follow all the members like a first time moth, holding out a candle as you want more friends!

Fat nuggets just oinks and follows you. You pet the cute demon pig who licks your hand back

CHARLIE LOVESSS YOUU😭💗 she picked you up and you honk hugging her back.

Vaggie admires you as well. You seem like a reliable person to bring hopes up.

Lucifer adores you..I mean you are just so affectionate. He immediately accepted the candle and he lifted you up. Kissing your head and gushing over you with tears yelling “I WANNA ADOPT THEM!”

I headcannon Charlie and Lucifer debating which color scheme suits you better as they try to take off your brown moth cape as you honk at them.

I always headcannon skykid moths to be at least like 4’9 and every time they gain winged light they get taller. 🦆✨but since you aren’t in the Sky cotl universe, you are so small so literally they treat you like a kid.

You know like your light decreases when a dark creature hits it or like basically darkness. (Especially during that damn fire trial😐) I can imagine moth! Reader having a night light that Lucifer made you with a duck light shining on the ceiling so you feel safe.

Husk doesn’t even understand what the fuck you are doing by honking at him and following him around constantly with a bright ass white candle.

Husk eventually accepted the candle which made you hug him alot..and oddly husk liked it. Now you gained a drunk uncle.

BIG HEADCANNON THAT VALENTINO WILL TRY TO ADOPT YOU, BUT ANGEL IS DEAD ASS SHAKING HIS HEAD NO AS THE OTHER CREW MEMBERS PROTECT YOU FROM THE GRASP OF THIS MOTH DEMON

As you kept getting adopted by random people, your ikemen was going around every season area asking other skykids have they seen you as he has a missing poster of you….poor Ikemen looks down seeing the flower bracelet you made him.

Back to you as you are making the whole crew paper bracelets thanks to Charlie’s trust exercises and activities.

I can see sir Pentious and you getting along to the point sir Pentious is like a caretaker when you don’t have anyone to be with. Even his egg boiz love to hang with you. Even if they don’t understand you.

You one time big honked and every light flickered since a ring of light was around you. So now the cast is little bit cautious at how “powerful” you are

Alastor would think you eat human/sinner meat as he would bring it to you, noting you don’t eat anything. 😭 DO YOU GUYS KNOW THAT GAGGING CAT?! THATS YOU WHEN YOU SMELT THE MEAT-

Alastor was so offended but he should’ve guessed that you weren’t a cannibal.

Niffty was teaching you how to clean and you accidentally drank bleach making niffty literally chase you around worried as you run.

You actually one time lost your light as you were crouched on the floor. Immediately Lucifer grabbed you up scared that you were dying as your body got out of the state and into your regular appearance.

Tbh Lucifer thought you was a scary demon crawling for your life, until you honked is when he realized it was his moth friend.

You fly around honking as you help razzle and dazzle with putting up banners. Razzle and dazzle pick you up if you don’t have enough energy to fly. You guys are flying buddies is what I headcannon.

I imagine husk is sleeping and you glide down from the stairs as you honk softly in his ear to wake him up. He grumbles at first so you decided to do a big honk. You inhaled as a ring of light surrounds the place as the honk rings out in the hotel.

“GAH!” Husk yells falling off the couch grabbing you as he thought you were trouble to only find out there wasn’t no problems. He grumbles angrily at you.

You once flew down like Batman and Angel recorded it founding it adorable.

Charlie had noticed you like to collect candles so she bought a stack of candles which made your eye light up and immediately run to your room with them.

Your mask definitely falls off your face, so imagine the whole hotel’s cast reaction to your face just being completely black with eyelashes (bruh skykid’s eyelashes are so damn pretty and long 😭)

When you went with Charlie to meet with the angels, Adam raised a brow at you because he never seen a “demon” like you. But he didn’t feel any angelic or demonic energy off you.

“What’s up lil dude…where’s your mama?” Adam says teasing you as he pats your head while Charlie watching nervously. You just honk at him and pull out a big white candle. Lute and Adam glanced at each other as Adam took it. The candle dissolved into a circle as Adam felt warm. You honk happily and hugged him.

“So can I keep this little shit?” Adam says to Charlie. “WHAT NO?!-”

I headcannon you once did the backflip emote and they all applaud you like “oh wow!”

Alastor and Lucifer are the smart ones to try to get you to call them dad…but you just honk and hug them like a little child happy to see them.

Of course Valentino is blowing Angel’s phone asking him if he seen a moth like demon….

Lucifer made you a duck cape. Like the cape was heaven sky blue with duck patterns in it. He found it so cuteee! 🦆💗

You honked madly at fat nuggets as the pig had eaten up your brown cape making angel dust make you a pink cape. It was bedazzled and it didn’t look like the sakura or valley cape you see other skykids wore once

#sky: children of the light #that game sky #sky children of the light #sky kid #sky cotl #skykid moth #Sky cotl moth #moth! reader #sky children of the light moth #cotl x hazbin hotel #cotl x reader #cotl! reader #hazbin hotel x cotl! reader #hazbin hotel x moth! reader #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel #hazbin vaggie #hazbin husk #hazbin lucifer #hazbin vox #hazbin angel dust #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x platonic!reader #hazbin hotel x male reader #hazbin hotel x child reader #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel headcanons

[writingwithcolor]

Black woman’s skin turns blue from powers; is this whitewashing/erasure?

Anonymous asked:

I have a character in a comic I'm hoping to write one day. She's a light skinned black woman(she's half white if that helps!) living in New York City during an 80s themed post nuclear apocalypse. The comic's main characters are all rock stars, so a lot of the character design elements revolve around the different rock genres. The character in question is in a glam rock band, so there's lots of bright, saturated, crazy colors involved in her design. The problem I'm having involves this one story beat where she gets mutant superpowers that give her electricity and sound based abilities. Her skin turns cotton candy blue as a result of the mutation. I'm hung up on whether or not this might fall under some kind of skin lightening or white-washing trope since it's a fairly light shade of blue. I designed her mutant look before her human look, so this was well before I'd even figured out what race she was, and I simply thought the shade of blue would compliment both the electricity powers and the fact that her hair is dyed pink. Is there a way I could still make this work? Or am I worrying about nothing?

Ideally, it would be nice to keep her brown skin tone. There’s a common comic and supernatural trend where Black people’s skin is covered up by a suit or Black-coded characters are an unnatural color (blue, green, purple, etc).

This is more of an issue when: 

There are no other Black characters of those identities besides the covered up/ ones with unnatural skin colors.

The creator adds this change to make them "special" because they do not believe Black characters, with features commonly associated with Black people like dark hair, skin and eyes, are acceptable enough for the character to stand on their own.

The supernatural special Black people are treated well by the story. The "non-special" Black people have unhappy stories and misfortune.

Other races of characters do not get their skin covered up or changed. Only the Black ones and/or BIPOC in general.

I think a quick fix for this would be for her skin to turn blue when she’s actively using her powers, at random, or other specific times, besides constantly. If she needs to be more consistently “mutant looking” Are there other ways she could change without her skin color changing or changing completely?

People with glitter on skin, light surrounding their face, and blue braids. Images from pexels.

More ideas that keep her skin brown

Hair

Her hair color changes blue or your color of choice (which could include body hair too, which would give her a more “otherworldly” appearance).

Note: If her hair is curly or natural, please keep it so! At least, the powers shouldn't change it straight.

Eyes

Her eyes glowing brighter or colorfully during power-use.

Note: If they're usually brown, they could stay brown when powers not in use, like Marvel's Storm in some versions.

Storm by Marvel Entertainment//20th Century Studios.

Skin and body

Blue patterns appear on her skin.

Blue glow or sheen to her skin without fully changing the color.

Her skin projects color and light.

New growths or changes to body, such as ear shape, wings, etc.

No matter what you decide, please make clear in your tale that she’s a Black mixed race woman. And have fun!

More reading:

How Special is Too Special? The Politics and Characterization of Stacking Special/Abnormal Traits on Mixed Race Characters

~Colette

#Black women #skin color #supernatural #superheroes #description #asks

[lilyginnyblackv2]

Some long, big thoughts on Kazuki, Rei, and being “Fathers.” - SPOILERS!

I really think this episode is when Kazuki and Rei really face the reality that they are Miri’s FATHERS. Like, it finally sunk in.

The lady here uses otou-sama, which is a very formal way to address the two of them, very stuffy. But also very...Japanese. In Japan, it is very commonplace nowadays for little kids to use papa and mama when addressing their parents, but those are still seen as loanwords. They don’t carry the same weight as being referred to, and seen as, FATHERS.

That question and how they would be perceived by others really hit them here. They aren’t just playing house at home anymore, they are out in society and are going to be perceived as this Miri’s fathers. That may also come with the assumption that they are a couple or in a relationship with each other. 

They both look uncomfortable here at that realization, but neither one really denies it either. Of course, this daycare is very unwelcoming and the lady far more judgmental than Anna. So that also likely plays a part in how they feel and react here too. The first daycare they go to  focused more on the business side of things. 

The room is huge, but empty, the walls are colorful, but not bright. Miri is sent off to play with blocks and the lady never directly addresses her or asks for her thoughts on things. Everything about this daycare is unwelcoming and uninviting and unaccepting, so Rei and Kazuki act coldly to this initial realization and the usage of the word FATHER here, seems very fitting.

It’s not a happy, bubbly, childlike, and even fantastical like the word “Papa” is. And the lady interviewing them, was definitely judging them, even before Miri started mentioning some more...suspicious stuff, lol.

Now, when they go to Aozora Daycare, Anna also addresses them using the word father in Japanese, but she goes with otou-san, still formal, but not stuffy and far more common and approachable. It’s still not “Papa” though. She only uses “Papa” when she talks to Miri about Rei and Kazuki. 

(In the Japanese she directly addresses Kazuki first by calling him otou-san and then stating that she was asking Miri, not him, haha). 

We are met with understanding here, though. Not judgement. The walls of Aozora are filled with children’s art projects, a piano that indicates singing and dancing time as a group, and warm smiles and comfy clothes. Everything that indicates a child-first daycare center. 

The whole interview process ends successfully. The daycare views them as suitable parents and Miri got accepted into the school. 

And while Rei looks disinterested during this entire interview. He was paying just as close attention to everything as Kazuki was, and if watch the high-five scene with a good eye, you can see that Rei actually has his hand up and waiting for Miri’s high-five before Kazuki.He understands her and her flow so well.

The rest is going under a Read More due to length.

Next we see them navigating all the prep work. And even though Rei did fall asleep at one point, we see that they both put in as much effort and energy as they can to get everything right for Miri and her first day of daycare. They both read through the handbook, write her names on things, even Rei did some sewing too. They exhaust themselves out. 

They think they make a great first impression on that first day:

But they make a lot of faux pas in the world of Japanese parenthood (specifically in a space that tends to be dominated by motherhood).

Arriving by car = ✘

Wearing suits that aren’t black = ✘

Having Miri wearing clothes that look expensive = ✘

Arriving by car is equated to wealth and money, and even to showing off, as opposed to riding a bike.

Wearing suits that aren’t black is associated with the underbelly side of Japan, men that work in the red light district or with the yakuza. An exception to this would be like, in many places, the entertainment business.

Dressing Miri up in clothes that look expensive plays into the whole “yakuza daughter” vibes, but also makes it so that she stands apart from the other children. It can also make it so that Miri has a difficult time putting the clothes on and off herself, which could take up class time when coming in from play time, getting ready to go home, and etc.

I worked at a juku (cram school) with a daycare. Most of the students I cared for there were native Japanese kids between 2 - 4 years old whose parents were working in America. My boss would often get annoyed when parents would bring their (usually daughters) in wearing fancy shoes that looked pretty, but hurt the child’s feet and were hard for the child to take on and off themself. 

Kids around Miri’s age are also shown to be aware of economic and social class on some level as well. 

LOS ANGELES, Calif. (Ivanhoe Newswire) -- Rich, poor, middle class. Parents often believe it’s their responsibility to shield their children from economic differences and social class.

But new research shows children as young as five years old are not economically blind. In fact, by the time they reach prekindergarten, kids know the difference.

This group of primary school kids already knows what money can buy.

Combine that with the (thirsty though they were) mothers who probably advised their children to not get on Miri’s bad side because of her dad’s, and her outfits that set her apart, and scenes like this one:

Don’t seem so out-of-place.

When Kazuki and Rei pick Miri up at school, her answer to “How was your first day? Have fun?” being “I dunno yet.’ Set’s off alarm bells - even with Rei.

His brows are furrowed. He knows that something is off and wrong with that statement. They don’t know what they did wrong, and they don’t know how to fix it. Miri gets quieter and sadder and this is the first time they’ve had to actually deal with Miri on a deeper, emotional level. 

That feeling like you are failing a child (whether your own, one of your students, or just a child in your care) is such a devasting feeling. This episode expresses it well by having these scenes all take place on the way home from the daycare, when the sun is setting. 

Thankfully, Kazuki is open to listening to what Miss Anna has to tell him, and she is so supportive. She doesn’t judge them or treat them like they are incompetent or incapable. She just gives them the push in the right direction, with “insider info” in a way, to get them and Miri acclimated correctly. And Rei and Kazuki jump on it. They love that they’ve found this place with a bunch of good quality cheap shit that can help them and make their lives easier.

And after this, Miri goes to school in regular clothes. Kazuki goes to the play area in the regular clothes, and he is just genuine and authentic with the kids. He doesn’t dress Miri up in a way that sets her apart anymore (on a class level, in a way that makes the other kids think she is “saying” “don’t play with me.”). 

Kazuki, especially, isn’t trying to “fake it until he makes it anymore.” He isn’t trying to give the impression that they are rich. And I wouldn’t be surprised if he also felt a bit more pressure to get everything right because he and Rei are two guys raising a kid together - two FATHERS. 

But then he realizes letting Miri and him and Rei just be themselves is enough.

This was very much so a Kazuki issue that ended up negatively impacting Miri. A situation I’m sure every parent (or even teacher, like I’ve been before) has experienced on some level. It’s one of the harsher parts of being a parent and trying to help your child and do what’s right.

And now, he and Rei have one foot further into parenthood, since they know about this new shop and:

Gave Miri her own room.

That is such a big deal. Similar in a way to how people say not to name an animal unless you plan on keeping it as a pet. Not because Miri can be compared to a pet or an animal in any way like that, but because of what it implies on both an emotional attachment level and a “she is now a permanent part of our household” level. 

That's a fully decorated room, filled with toys and plush dolls and games, a bed, books, a rug, even a desk. A desk filled with stationary supplies for her to learn and something which is viewed as a necessity for children to have at home when they are in elementary and junior high school (especially). 

Rei and Kazuki have gone from being Miri’s “Papas” on a sort of imaginary, “playing house” level, with very limited outside and real-world/societal interactions to being her fathers. They have integrated her and themselves as her parents and fathers into society on a large level now. 

By investing in that room, they are investing in Miri, and are openly choosing to be viewed as her fathers - as partners. Even if they don’t necessarily view each other in that way, it doesn’t matter to them in the end, because Miri is what’s most important. 

(Note: I will link to the news article and report that stated that information about children and economic class recognition in the comments).

#Buddy Daddies #KazuRei #Kazuki Kurusu #Rei Suwa #Miri Unasaka #Anna Hanyu #Buddy Daddies spoilers #BD spoilers #long post #image heavy post #meta post #thought post #feel free to add your thoughts to this as well!

[luvsupa]

“PRINCE GOJO?!”

tags: fem!reader x prince! gojo satoru, childhood enemies to lovers (eventually), slow burn, bully!gojo, angst, royalty, lots of tension, smut-ish, kissing, gojos very cocky, there will be multiple parts to this! mdni.

w.c: 2.7k (sorry)

a/n: THANK U ALL FOR THE SUPPORT!! I had to make a different blog bc my old one @luvsupas was not working :(( so this is my new blog !! (I’ll be reposting the sukuna fics soon)

the grand halls of the gojo estate echoed with the quiet elegance of centuries-old tradition. white and blue hues filled the castle, weaving through the curtains and tapestries. each door bore the rich blues of the family crest with gold accents.

this year, the gojos have invited your family to spend the season at the estate—a common occurrence given the close relationship between your families. however, this is the first time they have personally invited you. usually, your parents would spend the warm season at the gojo palace while you remained in your quarters, convincing them each year that you had more important activities to tend to. little did they know of your personal dislike for gojo satoru.

growing up, you and satoru never got along. he always belittled you and excluded you from activities. as you both reached your mid-teens, your bickering became more extreme. he would embarrass you during family dinners and important gatherings. initially, you thought he might have feelings for you until he and his friends humiliated you with a fake confession. just as he leaned in to kiss you, you found yourself pushed into the garden pool, their laughter echoing around you. that day hurt more than any argument you had ever had with him. you felt a sense of freedom when satoru and his family moved estates to a bigger palace, as if the old one wasn’t big enough.

walking behind your parents, you are stopped by the guards who open the double doors to the drawing room. inside, you see satoru’s parents already engaged in conversation, which halts as the doors open. “your majesties,” your parents say as you all bow slightly in respect.

“please, no need for formality!” the queen, satoru’s mother, says, embracing you in a warm hug. her bright blue eyes catch your attention, her royal blue gown making the color pop, similar to satoru’s eyes.

soon, the king, satoru’s father, and your father are deep in their own conversation, while your mother and satoru’s mother catch up, leaving you alone in the gigantic room, observing and listening. you begin to wonder where satoru would be—

“you’ve changed since i last saw you! adulthood suits you well,” satoru’s mother compliments your appearance, interrupting your thoughts. “thank you, your majesty,” you respond, quickly apologizing for the formality at her glare.

“satoru will attend tomorrow’s gala,” she continues, and your ears perk up at his name. “he’s been studying abroad, and it’s perfect timing for his return!” the queen informs you. how did she know you were curious about his whereabouts?

as the conversation winds down, the king informs you all that your rooms are prepared, allowing you to get comfortable in your temporary home.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

as night falls and the estate quiets down, you busy yourself unpacking, trying to make your new room feel like your own.

just as you’re almost finished, the grand doors slam, followed by cheers and applause. did i miss the gala? you hurry out of your room, following the noise to the grand staircase. from the top, you see gojo’s parents, guards, and servants clapping—there he is, his tall figure embracing his mother and father, basking in their affection.

quickly and quietly, you retreat, hoping to avoid any interaction with gojo. but on your way back to your room, you bump into your parents. “oh, there you are, darling. we were just looking for you to welcome satoru home!” your mother says, guiding you down the stairs despite your resistance. “i can’t—i’m not dressed in formal attire,” you protest, glancing down at your pajama gown. “nonsense, dear. wear my robe. you must greet him,” your mother insists, wrapping her silk golden robe around you as you descend the steps.

you curse yourself for leaving your room. this cannot be happening. “our little prince, we’ve missed you!” your mother exclaims, nudging you towards satoru. he greets your parents warmly, but when his eyes land on you, his demeanor shifts. he ignores you at first, addressing your parents with practiced charm.

you stand there, awkward and tense, as the one person you despise charms your parents. suddenly, he grabs your hand, his touch both surprising and unwelcome. “it’s been a while, hasn’t it, my lady,” he says with a disingenuous smile, softly kissing your hand. you stand there, slightly pouting, stunned by his audacity. then he leans in, his breath warm against your ear, “did you want me to kiss that pout like before, hmm?” his tone is condescending, followed by a dark chuckle.

you gasp as embarrassment floods your senses, old humiliations resurfacing. you shove him away, and he stumbles back, drawing your mother’s attention. she starts to scold you, but he intervenes smoothly. “don’t worry, it was a playful shove, wasn’t it, my lady?” his blue eyes lock onto yours, and you feel the weight of everyone’s gaze. “i’m sorry, i don’t feel well. goodnight,” you manage to say, rushing up the stairs and into your room, praying for the season to end quickly so you can escape his presence.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

as the morning light floods the room, you’re met with bright sun rays directly in your eyes, eliciting a groan of distress. the thought of last night’s events churns your stomach in embarrassment. pushing aside the memories, you get dressed for breakfast to join the mothers calm breakfast outside.

approaching your mother and gojo’s mother, they turn their attention to you, their expressions lighting up with amusement and boosting your ego.

“how beautiful! It’s delightful to have breakfast with you two!” gojo’s mother remarks, her eyes shifting between you and behind your figure. two? your smile fades as you turn to see satoru standing behind you—ego crushed. walking together to the dining table, you take your seats across from each other. how much worse can this morning get?

“we were just discussing the gala happening tonight. this will be good upon arrival, ‘toru,” his mother explains. tou notice his visible annoyance at the nickname. he doesn’t like being called ‘toru—noted. you sit in silence, quietly eating the food prepared by the hardworking chefs. just as you’re enjoying your meal, you hear an obnoxious squeal, “my prince! you’re finally back!” all four of you turn towards the noise. a beautiful tanned skinned woman draped in a lilac gown, runs towards your table as her maid struggles to keep up.

you her movements, as she runs straight to satoru, tears filling her eyes. she jumps into his lap, smothering him with kisses. the entire scene makes you wish you had never attended. without any shame, they engage in a heated make-out session in front of everyone. satoru opens his eyes to see your visible shock as he smiles into the kiss, while still maintaining eye contact with you.

the queen coughs, breaking the moment. the unknown woman apologizes to the queen without looking, maintaining her gaze on satoru. “ruru, I missed you so much! we should go up to your quarters soon,” she whispers, but unfortunately, you hear. “ayana, that’s enough. my mother was discussing the gala tonight,” satoru replies, disregarding her request as she pouts. so that’s her name.

“hello, your majesty. I apologize for my behavior; I haven’t seen satoru in so long!” ayana formally apologizes to the queen and everyone who had to witness that display. gojo adjusts her position, propping her up on his lap with her back against his chest. as gojo’s mother looks annoyed from the interruption, but she continues where she left off.

as breakfast continues, you try to focus on the discussion about the ball, but it’s impossible to ignore the tension radiating from across the table. satoru’s voice is low, murmuring something to ayana that makes her giggle. your curiosity piqued, you glance up- and nearly choke on your food.

satorus hand is shamelessly sliding up ayana’s thigh, disappearing beneath her dress. her breath hitches, a soft gasp escaping her lips but her eyes are locked onto you. he’s doing this on purpose, you realize. the sick twist in your stomach intensifying. he continues fingering her under the table as she’s holding back from releasing a loud moan, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches your reaction.

your heart pounds in your chest as he continues his sinful acts publicly. you abrubtly push your chair back, catching the attention from everyone as you quickly excuse yourself, standing up on shaky legs. satorus eyes follow you, a triumphant gleam as ayana clings to him, her giggles haunting you as it echos in your ears.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

you’re getting ready for the long-awaited ball, adorned in a gown that perfectly complements your skin tone. as you make your way to the drawing room, you realize you're ready before anyone else, which allows you to kill time and explore the estate. eventually, you find yourself in the grand library, which is far larger than you anticipated. a beautiful fireplace is placed near a cluster of chairs, offering a cozy spot for reading. browsing the bookshelves, you find yourself drawn to scientific novels that capture your interest.

“library’s not your usual scene, sweetheart. did you get lost on the way to the ballroom, or are you trying to impress me with your newfound scholarly interest?”

you quickly turn around at the voice. great. “trying to impress you? I have better things to do than seek validation from someone like you,” you spit back. he steps closer to you, and you already hate the proximity between you two.

“feisty, aren’t we?” he continues to walk closer, both of you now toe-to-toe as you look up at him, his towering presence looming over you. “you’re still the same girl I used to taunt,” he mocks with a fake pout, his voice dripping in condescension.

he closes the space between you, his warmth radiating off his body as you inhale his rich, masculine scent. “used to follow me around like a lost puppy—always trailing around, desperate for my attention. how pathetic.”

your jaw clenches with frustration, but you refuse to show him how much his words affect you. “maybe I did back then,” you retort, your tone laced with defiance. “but that was long ago. I see you exactly for who you are, satoru—someone who gets off on belittling others.”

his laughter rings out, grating on your nerves. he leans in, your faces dangerously close, your lips almost touching. “am I now?” he smirks, a look you want to slap off his face. “but deep down, you still crave my attention, don’t you? admit it, darling.”

his eyes flicker between your lips and your eyes, and you’re betraying yourself- slowly leaning in to kiss someone you so desperately hate—

“ruru! where are you? I hope you’re dressed!”

you’re the first to move back, breaking whatever spell he had you under. you look up at him in fear, while he looks at you with amusement. he has you wrapped around his finger, and you both know it. with a final smirk, he leaves to find ayana, leaving you alone in the library with so much to process.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

as you composed yourself and caught a breather, you exited the library and made your way to the ball room. the grand space was adorned with vintage antiques, paintings, a live orchestra, and all the opulence one would expect from a gojo event. the ballroom teemed with more people than you anticipated, their gowns and suits a beautiful contrast against the castle backdrop.

feeling nervous, you scanned the room, seeing your parents conversing with the king and queen. the refreshment bar catches your attention and make your way to the bar as you help yourself to a cool drink. suddenly, you felt a presence too close for comfort behind you. turning, you see ayana.

“you’re ruru’s friend, right?” she said, eyeing you up and down.

“ehh, I wouldn’t really say—" you began, but she cut you off.

“well, he’s told me so much about you! especially before he started his studies!” she informed you, causing your heart to skip a beat. he talks about me? “ahh good things I hope,” you reply with an awkward chuckle at the end.

“good? oh no, honey! he was always telling us how obnoxious you were, driven by your hopeless feelings for him,” she continued with a smirk.

oh.

“I’m very amazed at how you still came to see him despite your little feelings. after all, him and I are together,” she said, trying to flaunt her status. your mood shifted, and the desire to leave resurfaced. she rambled on, recounting embarrassing moments you wished were never brought up, as you zoned out of her relentless gossip. suddenly, your conversation was abruptly interrupted. finally.

“ladies and gentlemen,” one of the guards loudly caught everyone’s attention, silencing the room. “welcome back your prince, gojo satoru.”

as corny as it could get, gojo walked in with full confidence, the center of attention as the room filled with cheers and clapped for his arrival. internally scoffing, you discreetly made your way to the doors leading to one of the gardens, exiting the ballroom to avoid his speech.

taking in the scenery of the fountain and lush greenery, the orchestra continued playing, indicating gojo had finished his welcome speech. “not interested in what I have to say?” an annoying voice pierced through from your peripheral vision. you were so fed up with the past events that you just stared at him in annoyance.

“what troubles you, darling? do you seek my attention now?” his voice dripped with a sly undertone, causing your jaw to clench in frustration.

“I’ll see you inside, prince gojo,” you replied through gritted teeth, your tone dripping with bitterness. with a curt nod, you turned away, walking back to the ballroom, leaving gojo stunned for the first time—not by you leaving him alone, but by addressing him with such formality. it was always satoru.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

#sparkle boarder from @xianyoon #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk smut #jjk x reader

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Sunscreen & Statistics (S.R.)

Summary: Reader asks for Spencer’s help putting on sunscreen (and washing it off after).  Request: Spencer lecturing Reader on the statistics of wearing sunscreen, but his mind going blank when reader needs him to help put it on. A/N: This is my (first) entry to my Summer Sunshine Challenge! Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Spencer POV, so much sexual tension, mutual pining, heavy petting, fingering, rough sex, unprotected penetrative sex, coworker relationship, so many statistics (showers, skin cancer, sunscreen, sex), schizophrenia mention, Reader wears a bikini Word Count: 5.6k

MASTERLIST

It was a beautiful day—the kind that artists had attempted to capture through many mediums. The summer sun was relentless, stretching its rays across every inch of the region. Even the shade hardly seemed spared, with bits of bright light slipping between green rustling leaves.

This seemingly idyllic set of circumstances offered the BAU a wonderful excuse to stay behind on the sunnier coast. Everyone was quick to buy new bathing suits and Rossi had already begrudgingly extended an invitation for everyone to stay at his favorite luxury hotel (on his dime, of course, or none of us would’ve made it).

The celebrations were already in full swing, and everyone was blissfully happy. It was, after all, the perfect day to hang out by the pool. So, they did. Each and every one…

Except for me. I stayed inside.

I wasn’t trying to ruin the fun. I had my reasons. Some were more reasonable than others.

Others were scary and slightly embarrassing. They wore a smile so bright it would rival the sun and managed to make me turn red even quicker than the star could. The kind of reason that turned me to nothing but a blubbering mess of a man.

I should’ve known better than to try to avoid her, though. Because that reason, that very important and tempting enchantress of a reason, always seemed to find me at the most inopportune time.

“Are you still hiding in here?”

I nearly jumped through my skin at the sound.

“No!”

I turned to find her staring back with an entertained, albeit disbelieving stare.

“Sort of. Maybe,” I felt compelled to continue.

When she still didn’t believe me—for obvious reasons—I finally conceded, “Yes.”

To my joy and eternal shame, she laughed like it had been an intentional joke.

“Well, I got banished back inside because I forgot sunscreen, so I’m trying to figure out where JJ left her bag,” she sighed.

Thankfully, that had been something I could help with. Despite everyone’s enthusiasm when they’d tossed the bags into the center of the suite lobby, I had managed to determine who owned which brightly colored pattern.

From my seat in the center, I reached over to pull JJ’s bag from the fray.

As soon as (y/n) spotted the motion, she was quick to exclaim, “My hero!”

Immediately, I felt the blood rush to my face.

I suppose there were worse places it could have gone.

“How did you forget sunscreen?” I asked.

“I hate the way it feels, so I almost never wear it unless forced,” she shrugged. Then, she turned to me, pointing the bottle like a weapon as she explained, “Plus, it always feels like they’re trying to trick me with all the numbers. I don’t know what SPF is. They could just be lying to me.”

“Well, the good news is that even a weak sunscreen is helpful,” I tried to reassure her. “Regular daily use of at least 15 SPF can reduce your risk of squamous cell carcinoma and melanoma by up to 50%.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah. I can tell you more about this product specifically, if you want.”

When I held out my hand, she was quick to hand me the bottle. I was, in turn, very happy to have an excuse to look at something other than her before all the blood left my brain.

“Okay, so, this one is an interesting formula. It offers a decent coverage and—,” I started, but my voice died just as soon as I looked up.

Because there she was, pulling her top over her head to reveal the barely-there bikini beneath it.

I knew I only had a few seconds to shamelessly ogle her before she would find out, and I greedily accepted the sight of soft curves that all consisted of and led to her.

My eyes traversed her body the way I wished my hands could until I was left practically trembling.

The blood wasn’t in my face anymore. It wasn’t even anywhere near my brain. To the point I’d barely even noticed she’d already taken her pants off until her voice snapped me back to reality.

“And what?” she said.

“What?”

“… You stopped talking.”

“I did?”

She reached forward and grabbed the bottle from my hand. If she’d noticed the way I had been looking at her, she didn’t say anything about it. She just sort of… smiled.

“Are you alright, Doctor?” she asked.

“Yes,” I lied.

I might’ve been able to answer honestly if it hadn’t been for the way she dumped the contents of the bottle into her hand and began lathering it over her legs.

“A-Anyways,” I tried to continue. With a wavering voice and wandering eyes, I rambled, “to maximize protection you should really use about an ounce of sunscreen with an SPF of 30. Anything over 30 is, well, like you suggested, sort of a scam.”

All the while, there she was, smoothing over slick skin that smelled like summer.

“An ounce, huh?” she hummed as her hands traveled between pillowy thighs to coat skin the sun could rarely reach. “Feels like you could make it a drinking game with enough motivation.”

“Drinking alcohol actually dramatically increases your risk of sunburn, so you should definitely wear more sunscreen if you’re drinking,” I muttered absently while my eyes stayed firmly fixed between her thighs long after her hands had abandoned the area.

“Noted,” she said, the end of the word tinged with a little bit of amusement.

I looked up at her to try to understand what had excited her, or perhaps annoyed her.

Or at least, I tried to look at her face. My eyes made a few involuntarily stops along the way. Once they settled safely back on her smile, however, she was quick to get my blood pumping in a different way.

“So, will you help me?” she asked.

“With what?”

She scoffed, then laughed.

“… the sunscreen? Duh.”

Despite my best efforts to make any sense of the request, I was, once again, a hopeless, lovesick idiot.

“W-What?” I babbled, “You… You want me to put it on? You?”

“I can ask JJ if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“No!” I blurted out with both hands raised in opposition or surrender.

Didn’t seem to matter which.

I tried to explain it away, but my attempts to bolster my good character seemed even less convincing than the sudden outburst.

“N-No, no it’s fine. I-It’s… why would that make me… uncomfortable? I’m fine. I can do it.”

“Wow. Convincing,” she teased.

And that is what it was. There was no anger in her tone; not even a hint of resentment. She laughed, and I did, too.

“Okay, I admit that wasn’t very convincing. But seriously, I can do it. Promise.”

She spoke through her teeth when she muttered, “Whatever you say.”

When she tossed me the bottle back, we were both surprised to find that I’d caught it.

My hands, still shaky, were quick to close the gap between our bodies. The sunscreen felt nearly frigid compared to our skin, but she didn’t seem to mind.

In fact, she rewarded the sensation with a dreamy sigh and a slight arching of her back.

That motion, however small, felt like fire to an already ruined man. I tried to stay focused on more innocent areas. I worked my hands over knotted muscles in her shoulder and tried to free her of those burdens, too. With each swipe of my thumbs, she would let out the most delicious rumble that made me want to do it again.

Each time that I pulled away to add more, I came back a few inches lower until my fingers nearly slipped beneath the top of her bikini bottoms.

At that moment, with her arched lower back pressed against my palms and my fingers brushing against the little fabric between us, she shivered. Silently, I watched as the goosebumps covered her skin like a sheet.

Reaching forward to grab hold of the couch in front of her, she arched her back once more. The movement seemed intentional, closing a couple inches of the distance between us until there was almost nothing.

With more speed than I’d intended, I stepped back and nearly fell.

“O-Okay, I-I think that’s it!” I said with a squeak.

To my dismay, she stayed exactly where she was for a long moment. In fact, she deepened the stretch and fell forward with a sigh before she whined, “Shame.”

I tried to calm my fast beating heart while simultaneously trying to run from the thoughts that continued to chase me the longer she stayed bent over. My hands were still buzzing from the contact, and I felt almost lightheaded from the strength of the unrelenting erection still struggling against compression shorts underneath my pants.

(I had been right that I would need them if she was going to be there.)

And there she was, finally standing and stretching her arms over her head. They dropped back down and I couldn’t stop myself from admiring the effect of physics on her chest.

“It felt nice to be touched like that,” she sighed.

I couldn’t respond to that without making a complete fool of myself, so I tried to distance myself from the moment, instead.

“You’re actually supposed to wait 30 minutes after application to go into the sun, but, y-you can probably just sit in the shade and wait.”

“Did you already apply yours?”

“I’m not taking off my clothes so I could do it myself,” I explained.

I should’ve known better than to doubt her ability to get whatever she wanted—which, at the moment seemed to be my catastrophic defeat.

“Well, that’s not fair,” she whined, “I want to return the favor!”

“I-I mean… I’ll probably have to reapply it to my face soon, but I doubt you want to—.”

“Awe! Fun!” she cried before I could finish the thought, “Gimme!”

“Oh… um, okay.”

I handed her the bottle and whatever I still had of my heart. With expert fingers, she spread the chilly contents over my cheeks. We were both smiling, the expressions growing wider and more genuine as she started to play with pliable skin.

I involuntarily joined in on her laughter. Her hands and eyes were so warm, I couldn’t help but melt into a puddle in her palms.

The moment ended far too quickly. I missed her immediately, but she made sure that my smile didn’t fade.

“There. You’re only sort of pasty now,” she sighed contentedly before adding, “Mostly red, actually.”

“Gee, I wonder why,” I grumbled back. The sarcastic tilt to the sound wasn’t lost on her.

I realized in that awkward, somehow lonely quiet that I loved her more than I’d thought.

I almost wanted to tell her. I’d even opened my mouth, ready to spill the contents of my soul and hope for the best.

I never got a chance, though. Because before I’d uttered a single syllable, she jumped with her own realization.

“Oh, I forgot the most important part!”

“What?”

She turned away from me and dove her attention into the pile of bags without further explanation. I watched as she dug through clothing and whatever else she’d stuffed into her tote until she stood triumphantly with a closed fist.

“What?” I asked again.

She held up a single finger in reply.

I followed her instruction, waiting patiently as I watched her uncap a small tube of chapstick and use it to thoroughly coat her lips. Once again, I was left to shamelessly stare at a beautiful woman as she dutifully cared for herself in a way I’d wished I could.

Swallowing the lump in my throat that carried heartfelt confessions, I spoke again.

“What am I waiting for, exactly?” I teased.

Her eyes narrowed with what seemed to be a playful warning.

“Sunscreen application,” she explained flatly, “Duh.”

I paused. My head cocked to the side and my face twisted as I struggled to find any explanation for why she’d needed me for this part.

“Wha—?”

Then, just when I’d started to speak, it hit me all at once.

And by that, I mean she kissed me.

With both hands cupping already-reddened cheeks, she pulled me forward until I could taste flavored lip balm and her.

Her lips opened, sliding against mine with an undeniable affection that made my whole body tense. I tried to hold her, but it all happened so quickly that by the time I raised my hands to her arms, she was almost gone.

“There!” she said happily, “Now we’re ready.”

For what? I wanted to ask.

But before I could make myself speak, she was already gone.

I spent the next several hours outside.

The rest of the team seemed both surprised and not surprised about my decision to join them. After all, everyone knew I didn’t particularly enjoy pools or any body of water, and, despite my Vegas origins, the sun and I didn’t quite get along.

But they also knew I liked her.

It had never been more obvious than it was that day, when I emerged from the safety of darkness with freshly kissed lips and an expression filled with utter confusion.

(Y/n) was quick to greet me in her usual manner. She said nothing about the kiss.

Part of me had even started to wonder if I’d hallucinated the whole thing. Maybe the doctors had all been wrong, and I was already waist-deep in psychosis that manifested purely through happy memories of her.

It would be an odd presentation, sure, but at the time it somehow felt more likely than her returning my affections. But as soon as I started to convince myself, she would flash me a glance that set my already overheated body on fire. Even as she peered up at me from the edge, I could still see her smile under the water.

She wore that same look in her eye she always did when we were alone. It was a slightly unnerving but mostly flattering feeling. It felt like being wanted by a beautiful woman.

I’m definitely losing it.

That was the only reasonable conclusion to reach. Because when she emerged from the pool, I could’ve sworn she paused before to make sure I was watching.

Of course, I was watching. I made sure that my flawless memory captured damn near every droplet as it caressed her curves. I stared, practically worshipped the sight of her lips parted with a relieved exhale that I could see leave her chest.

The blood was gone again. I was doomed.

“You’re still hiding, huh?”

I was too afraid to answer until she took the seat closest to me.

“No, not hiding, just… staying safe,” I explained through my typical awkward smile.

I pointed up to the umbrella above me, but she didn’t look. Her eyes stayed glued to me.

“It’s probably time for me to reapply, huh?” she laughed.

I liked the way it sounded, so, I laughed, too.

“Yeah, to be honest, you really should’ve done it a couple hours ago, but I didn’t want you to think I was… a wet blanket or a pervert.”

She snorted at the suggestion. Her eyes squinted, playful as always and carrying some meaning that evaded me.

“It’s very interesting that those were the two options that came to your mind,” she said.

I panicked.

“I don’t know, it’s weird, isn’t it? Me insisting you should let me touch you?” I rushed, “I’m not crazy, right? It’s… weird! It’s…!”

She sighed.

At first, I mistook the sound for annoyance. But when I looked into her eyes, I knew that wasn’t right.

Because she looked… like she had been caught in a dream. A melancholy fantasy of something she felt was just beyond her reach.

She was looking at me, I realized, exactly the same way I looked at her.

 “You’re not crazy, Spencer,” she said with a smile, “Just a little oblivious.”

My lips twitched as I fought a smirk that came through, anyway.

“I can accept that.”

She seemed pleased, as if I’d given the right answer.

“Well, the good news is I’m done with the sun for the day,” she announced.

Her eyes finally left me as she once again stretched her arms over her head and left me to ogle her like an idiot. Then, when I was thoroughly distracted, she glanced around like she was checking to see if anyone could hear her.

“They don’t seem to be calming down, so…” she said, much quieter now, “any statistics on what I should do with sunscreen when I’m finished with it?”

“No statistics, per se, but you definitely should wash it off. It can be pretty irritating for skin,” I answered matter-of-factly. “Not to mention the salts and chemicals from the pool.”

“I see,” she laughed.

Then, when she realized that I was, in fact, a hopeless, perverted fool with no blood in his brain, she made her intentions much clearer.

“Will you help me with that?”

Not clear enough for me, though.

“What?” I asked.

“With the sunscreen,” she answered simply.

“Uh—.”

Even that eloquent thought couldn’t make it through a parched, tightening throat. With each passing second and every syllable uttered, my voice got higher and even more unstable.

“I’m sorry, are you—what—w-what are you asking me?”

That’s when she took my hand, bursting with laughter as she dragged me from me seat with the most terrifying, alluring, and magical answer.

“Come on, pretty boy.”

I followed her without question but many concerns—the largest of which was the fear that she was actually leading me to my demise by humiliation.

Those worries grew tenfold when she yanked me over the threshold into her private room.

I stumbled forward and practically fell into her arms. But she was waiting for me, seemingly anticipating the clumsiness. Her hands were still soft, still soothing on boiling skin as she guided my lips to hers for the second time that day.

That time, I was prepared.

My hands covered her sun-kissed cheeks and pulled her even closer than she’d done to me before.

She tasted like salt and sugar from summer fresh fruit. I gave her every breath that I had, panting hopelessly against her lips each time that we broke apart.

Her hands were gentle when they found mine. I was reluctant to leave her until I realized that she was simply repositioning them to less innocent areas.

Still, I hesitated to go any further. I let my hands rest softly against her hips while I struggled to express my relief.

“Thank god,” I laughed, “I was sort of worried you were going to beat me up for staring at you all day.”

Her eyes locked onto mine with a hunger that seemed almost insatiable.

“No, I like it when you look at me like that,” she stated so simply it hurt. “In fact, I think I want to thank you.”

Before I could ask her how she intended to that, she made her intentions very clear by grabbing my dick through the fabric of my pants.

“So, tell me… any statistics on why we shouldn’t have sex in the shower?” she asked.

I don’t know how she’d expected me to think clearly. It actually seemed like she was purposefully trying to make it harder for me to form any words at all.

“It’s actually—,” I started just to stop when she started stroking the full length of me with devilish fingers.

“It’s actually really dangerous to try to have sex in the shower,” I tried again.

That time, she began applying a cascading pressure through playful fingertips. I spoke faster, trying to finish any thought before I truly lost my mind.

“There is a—fuck—a 44% chance of injury,” I forced out.

Her hand stopped. She cocked her head to the side with a brilliant smile and asked, “Is that right?”

I was almost relieved. Almost.

“Yeah, and…”

Then she started taking off my pants.

“A-and it can be quite uncomfortable for a woman without additional lubrication,” I said while shaking my head.

Even my subconscious knew I was speaking against my own self-interest, that I could’ve just accepted her question as rhetorical. I could’ve just shut up and go along with whatever she wanted because I would always be happy so long as she was happy.

She dropped down as she pulled my pants to the ground and revealed a second set of bottoms. I couldn’t be sure of it, but she seemed vindicated when she realized how hard my body was struggling against the compression shorts.

“The movies make it look so fun, don’t they?” she hummed as she stood back up. “I guess it is pretty dangerous. And inconvenient.”

“Yeah, but also, I sort of wish I hadn’t said any of that,” I responded immediately, “Let’s do it anyway.”

Thankfully, she found my eagerness charming and not pathetic (or perhaps those were the same to her). Her fingers sneaked past the band of the compression shorts, but she didn’t make the move to remove them yet.

Instead, she used her free hand to lead mine straight to the knot holding her bikini bottoms together.

My fingers twitched. She leaned closer, her cheek pressed against mine and her breath hot on my ear as she said the most beautiful words.

“We can shower after, then.”

“Thank you god,” I cried.

Practiced fingers untangled the knots within seconds, and I fought the urge to stare at her newly exposed skin by kissing her instead.

Her skin, still wet, was chilled enough from the cooler air that she barely reacted when I backed her against the ceramic countertop in the bathroom.

She leaned back, groaning with relief when I finally undid the knots of her top.

Again, I shamelessly admired the wonderful world of physics as it was displayed before me. With each breath, her chest lifted and came closer to my own.

Seemingly sharing the same thoughts, she reached forward and practically tugged my shirt off of me.

As soon as I could, I held her naked body as close to me as I could. My hands covered her lower back and drifted further down her hips, seeking every inch of cold skin that remained.

“God, you’re beautiful,” I whispered. I couldn’t see most of her, but the memory from mere seconds ago was as vivid as it would ever be. “Words don’t exist that would ever do it justice.”

She pulled back, still toying with the tops of my shorts with that insatiable look in her eyes.

“I’d say take a picture, but I think your memory might rival a camera,” she giggled.

“I’ll never forget this,” I promised her, “I’ll never forget you.”

But there were so many other ways I’d yet to see her. So, after carefully loving each inch of her hips, I turned my attention to the burning heat between her thighs. 

At the same time my finger slid through slick folds, my lips found hers once more.

“I wanna make you feel good,” I slurred.

Her lips parted in a broken gasp as I tried to do just that. I inched eager fingers between tight muscles and didn’t even bother fighting the urge to moan into her mouth.

She swallowed that desire and returned her own with a growing enthusiasm. My fingers grew faster, sloppier in their gentle beckoning for her to fall apart.

“That’s it. Good girl,” I reassured her when her breathy moans became pitchy. “Oh, you deserve to feel so good, sweetheart.”

That spark in her eyes had turned into a wildfire further stoked by my praise. I leaned into it; I became more confident in my loving her. Her walls were tense and insistent, seeking something more than what my hand could give them.

I withdrew them despite her immediate protests. She recanted any complaint as soon as I moved drenched fingers to the small pearl at her center.

Her moans became shameless, and I accepted them as an imminent victory. She rocked her hips against my hand, riding it to find her elusive end.

All the while, her eyes were locked onto mine. She refused to look away, forced us both to acknowledge that I was the one who brought her here. To the edge of the abyss, to the ultimate euphoria.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” I said through a smirk, “Come for me.”

She followed the direction with the utmost enthusiasm. She fell forward, favoring me to the cold countertop. I caught her but continued my relentless efforts to please her.

I kept going, kept cherishing her until she whimpered from my touch. Then I held her. I pet her damp hair and laid a gentle kiss atop the crown of her head.

“Good girl,” I assured her.

But I wasn’t finished yet.

“Now turn around.”

She perked up the second she’d heard the order. Although she’d barely caught her breath, she turned on shaky legs without question.

My hands found her hips just like they had before. Except this time, there were no bikini bottoms. There was only pillowy flesh and the strong muscles of her backside pressed firmly against my dick.

Barely moving away from her, I finally freed myself from the confines of compression shorts. I groaned with relief and noticed how the sound made her back arch further.

When I lined myself up at her entrance, she rewarded the action with a dreamy sigh.

It wasn’t enough for me. I wanted to see the look on her face, to hear the desperation in her voice before I gave her what I’d fantasized of from the moment I met her.

My hand knotted in her hair. I pulled her back from her comfortable position braced against the countertop. I held her up so that I could whisper in her ear the same as she’d done to me earlier.

“This is what you wanted, right?” I asked, as if her whimpers hadn’t been answer enough.

“Yes,” she moaned, “please.”

The sound of debauchery on her tongue sent shockwaves through me. My cock twitched involuntarily, bumping against satin skin now dripping with desire.

I barely resisted the urge to slam into her with full force. Instead, I stayed there, with just the tip of me inside of her as I groaned.

“Oh, I’d give you the whole world if you asked me like that.”

“This’ll do for now,” she giggled.

Her hips began to sway as she rocked on her toes. She chased even just a half inch more of me and rewarded me with beautiful sounds when I finally started to sink into her.

“That’s it…” I sighed.

Her confidence was quickly shaken, though, as my pursuit continued. Not even half of my dick was inside her when I felt her start to tremble.

“You can take it,” I assured her.

She responded by tightening her muscles even further, resisting the gentle stretch of her body as it accommodated my own.

“That’s my girl,” I groaned. The blinding heat of her demanded my full attention to the point that I was barely coherent as I slurred, “You’re doing such a good job, sweetheart.”

But all it took was one word to unravel my best efforts.

“Spencer,” she whimpered.

Any hesitance I had vanished without a trace. I thrust my hips forward to the hilt with so much force that she scrambled to stay on her feet. Manicured nails struggled to find a grip the ceramic before my next motion.

I took my time pulling back, and I watched her struggle with the fullness that was our bodies come together. I reveled in the sight of her heaving chest and clouded eyes.

That time, I didn’t fight the urge to slam into her. I even pulled her back as I did it, bringing our bodies together over and over again with a blissful type of violence.

With each thrust, I watched her reaction in the mirror. I made sure that my mind captured each second of her pleasure. Each time her jaw dropped open with whines and praise in the shape of my name.

“Please, Spencer,” she keened with a white-knuckled grip on the edge of the counter.

I hadn’t been sure what she was asking for, so I continued to love her the same as I always had.

But she only became more frustrated, sobbing with pleasure the next time my hips crashed into hers.

“Harder,” she cried out.

And I tried. I tried to follow her instruction, to grant her the release that could only be found in the fullest expression of years of repressed passion.

The problem wasn’t my unwillingness to give my everything to her. Rather, it was the siren’s call of resistant, relentlessly desperate muscles.

“You’re so fucking tight,” I ground through clenched jaw. 

Then, with a small and wavering voice, she insisted, “I can take it.”

Every atom of my being burned with a suffocating desire. It felt nearly feral; fully free to show her just how badly my body ached to be with her.

She began slamming back against me with a similar fervor and I almost made myself stop.

“Fuck, I’m so close, but I don’t want it to end,” I begged her.

But that beautiful, evasive, brilliant star of a woman just giggled. I could practically feel myself leaving bruises in the shape of my fingertips and she couldn’t have been happier.

Through the mirror, she looked at me and reminded me of the full, unrelenting power of the sun.

“Don’t worry,” she purred, “we can do it again later.”

That was all it took. With just a look, she practically brought me to my knees.

“Fuck!” I choked as I slammed into her with my full force. We both nearly collapsed against the counter, but I managed to pull her hips down harder against me just as I found my release.

The blissful heat of her grew to new heights as I filled her. Each wave of pleasure caused her to shiver with sheets of goosebumps.

I watched through half-lidded, lust-clouded vision as she accepted every inch and every drop of my desire with a euphoric smile.

“Sorry,” I said while trying to catch my breath. Even when I managed to capture some breath, it escaped me with a laugh as I explained, “I… I wasn’t expecting you to say that.”

“Don’t apologize,” she slurred.

I might’ve thought she was just being merciful if she hadn’t immediately followed, “That was fun.”

It was so obviously sincere, but I was so ridiculously stupid that I had to be sure, anyway.

“Yeah?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she laughed.

The sound was even more beautiful when I could feel the vibrations from within. I groaned from the thought of how it might feel for her lips to be wrapped around my cock. It twitched inside her, and she responded with a small whimper.

My hips bucked one more time, forcing me to the hilt before I withdrew in one quick motion.

I stood there for a moment, holding her hips steady as I watched the evidence of what we’d just done drip down her thighs.

My stomach was filled with butterflies doing flips and there was no accounting for the blood that still hadn’t made its way back to my brain.

(Y/n) was patient as ever with a pitiful man.

“Come on, pretty boy,” she chuckled as she took my hand, “help me get clean.”

Despite my best efforts, there were significantly less attempts to get clean in the shower than I’d expected. It was only thanks to her self-preservation that we didn’t end up having sex in the shower, although we came pretty close.

I could never tire of kissing her, but I realized I could love her just as much with lather as I could with my lips. My worship shifted as I dutifully cared for her the way I’d always wished I could.

When it was over, I didn’t give up. I followed her into her bed and she made no attempt to stop me.

In fact, she moved closer to me until my arm could reach around her waist and her head rested on my chest.

“Any other statistics you want to share?” she mumbled, now sleepy from the sun and… other activities.

“Always,” I answered. “Like, did you know, I have now joined the 54% of people who have slept with a coworker?”

“Fascinating. Was it worth it?” she chuckled, having already known my answer.

“Yes,” I told her, anyway. But the way I always did when it came to sharing statistics, I couldn’t stop myself. “Although, there is a smaller subset of that group that’s even more interesting.”

She gasped, quickly pressing her fingers to my lips to stop me from ruining her moment.

“Let me guess—at least half of them fucked in the office,” she said.

And in that quiet, private moment, the only thing more beautiful than her hopeful smile was the fact she’d gotten it right.

“You are, without a doubt, the most attractive woman I’ve ever met in my life,” I confessed.

She gave her wholehearted admission that she felt the same in the best way she could.

With a cheeky smile and the utmost sincerity, she asked, “What are the odds of that?”

(Tell me what you thought about this fic here!)

Looking for another mutual pining summer-themed fic? Check out my 11.2k oneshot Lost Time, where Reader and Spencer spend their mandatory leave taking the Spring Break Spencer never got to have. 

Reid Taglist: @mrs-dr-reid , @dreatine , @hopefulfangirl24 , @laurakirsten0502 , @dontcallmekittens , @rintheemolion , @andreasworlsboring101 , @imsuperawkward , @wentz2005 , @lovejules888 , @dashneydanger , @materialisthicc , @violetspoetic , @mslowlife , @conniesanchor , @trippol-threat , @will-byers-needs-a-hug , @poo-tay-toot , @bookobsessedfreak

Complete Taglist: @cynbx , @emsma11 , @mediocre-writer , @fightingdragonswithwho , @andiebeaword , @jayyeahthatsme , @pepperthealien

Thanks for reading!

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds smut #spencer reid self insert #imaginingafterdark

[jyoongim]

DANGEROUSLY IN LOVE

Word count 1.1k

”he’s a wolf in disguise

but I can’t stop staring in those evil eye

i asked my girlfriend if she’d seen you ‘round before

she mumbled something while she got down on the floor

we’ve might have fucked, not really sure, don’t quite recall

but something tells me that I’ve seen him yeah

that boy is a monster”

alastor x burlesque!reader pt 1

An inaccurate southerner 1920 fic.

I am Black sooooo reader is black for the sake of this and so is Alastor cause that’s a black man idc idc idc fight a skunk.

Monster by lady Gaga really had my juices flowing

themes: Alastor himself is a warning,

violence,

alcohol use,

 drug use, 

nsfw, 

teasing, flirting, taunting, smut, 

banter, possessive/protective behavior  

You hummed a little tune as Mimzy finished doing your makeup and hair. 

Tonight was your first debut at the club and you were excited to be the opening act.

You ran your hands over the tight corset in an attempt to soothe the nervousness that was trying to settle in your belly. You adjusted the feathered headpiece as Mimzy finally finished everything with hairspray (why did set your makeup as well….oh well).

You were finishing up putting on your jewelry when you heard Mimzy gasped, you turned seeing her poking her head out to look out the door out to the growing crowd.

you fixed your lips to ask her what had her so shocked, when she twirled around, eyes wide and excited “He’s here! I can’t believe he here!”

You blinked, confused “who is here Mimzy? One of your little boy toys? Or someone you owe?”

she flipped you off before smirking “what you live under a rock doll? Him! Hell’s Stereo himself!”

Your eyes widened as you gawked “No way!” You ran over to the door to peep without people seeing you and your eyes settled on a lone red, lanky demon sitting at the bar. You couldn’t really see him well from where your dressing room but before you could crane your head out further, Mimzy pulled you back in

”You are suppose to be a surprise doll! Can’t let that lot get a eyeful without proper payment now can we?”

You soon forgot about the red demon as you primped a bit more, chatted with some of the other dancers, and laughed with Mimzy.

 The lights in the club had finally dimmed and Mimzy slapped you on the ass, leaving your dressing room “Knock ‘em dead doll!”

You took a deep breathe as you heard the band begin to play your song.

You straightened your back, and took on a composure that oozed seduction and confidence.

Hearing the beat of the music, you waltzed out onto the stage, giant feathered fans concealing yourself.

The whistles and catcalls never failed to make you nervous, but you used it to fuel your confidence.

You pivoted around the stage, teasing those who tried to steal a look around the fans.

A swing lowered and you took a seat on it and as it rose into the air, you finally revealed yourself in all your glammed glory.

the spotlight prevented you front seeing much of the crowd but your were Able to spot Mimzy, who was chatting with the red demon from earlier.

Your body moved on autopilot, maybe it was from hours of practice or maybe it was because the red demon was drop dead gorgeous. 

He was a rather tall fellow, at least compared to Mimzy.

Lanky build adorned in a red pinstriped suit with a black bowtie. He had a bob-like hair cut, the tips black that was cut into an undercut. Protruding on top of his bang were two little antler like horns and

omg were those ears???? His ears mixed with the color of his hair. 

They reminded you of a deer’s. They seemed to stay alert, sticking forward, never flickering.

His eyes were a bright red, like rubies.

and he had a ever-present sharp smile.

Uncanny. But OH  he was so pretty.

You locked eyes and automatically you flashed him a flirty wink. You half expected him to throw a wink or look away, but instead he held your gaze as he raised his glass in acknowledgment. You felt your cheeks heat up as you tried to focus on your performance.

You swung and twirled on your little perch. Slowly, you started to remove pieces of your costume.

You perched yourself alongside a gentleman and smirked as he practically melted at your touch. You wrapped your boa around his neck and  pressed your fingers lightly to his mouth; he smirked, nipping at your fingertips and slowly dragging your glove off. You glided through the crowd, losing a piece of clothing here and there.

By the time you circled around to the bar, Mimzy was drunk and dancing along to the music and the mysterious demon was tracking your movements.

Hitting a little jig with Mimzy, you were intending to make your way to the lanky devil, when an arm circled around your waist and tugged you into a fella, who obviously had been drinking waaaay too much.

”why don’cha take the rest of these off princess?” He took a swig of whatever cheap liquor and leered at you “i like a gal dripped only in jewels” he snickered.

You frowned and tried to play off his perversion.”sorry dearest but I fear i am simply too much for you” you slapped his hand off of you and made your way to the bar.

Taking a seat, you ordered a bottle of whiskey and manners be damned, you chugged it for a good second.

maybe this’ll put you back in a good mood.

you were too busy sipping your sorrows you didn’t notice that a dark presence had settled beside you.

“And here I thought you were just pretty entertainment ” a deep brawl said from behind you. You turned and let out a soft squeak at the close proximity of the demon you had been eyeing all night. He cocked his head, mouth stretched in a big smile, showing off his sharp teeth. “You kept me waiting for a while doll” 

You could blame the courage on the whiskey, but you smirked at him coyly “and who might you be?” The red demon crouched to your level and raised your bare hand to his lips, keeping eye contact as his grin widened “Alastor doll. Pleasure to meet to you”

#hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #burlesque #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #the radio demon

[oikasugayama]

You can't escape from chuuya 😜 the same as with dazai with the reader with a short skirt nsfw I wanted the most chuuye😠

fiiiiine, fine. Have Chuuya smut that's twice as long as the Dazai one ;)

MDNI, NSFW, fem!reader in a short skirt, 5k of filthy dirty nasty smutttt, name calling, brat taming, spanking, daddy (only once), fingering, cum eating, blow job, all sorts of shit ok. MDNI MDNI MDNI

You’re always professionally dressed at work. Members of the Port Mafia are paid handsomely, so you can all afford to dress to the nines, even for a simple day in the office or a dangerous tryst out in enemy territory. Like many of your coworkers, you prefer a polished, businessy look when conducting Port Mafia business. You have a closet full of perfectly tailored pantsuits, mostly in black though you do keep a few fun colors should you get the chance to wear them. 

On your days off, however, you’re more or less unrecognizable to your coworkers thanks to the difference in your business style and your personal style. You’re not just fond of bright and pastel colors, you’re obsessed with them. The girlier, prettier, and gaudier a piece of clothing is, the more you love it. You’re inspired by Harajuku, and pastel goth styles, as well as some frilly vintage vibes now and again. You even have a small collection of colorful wigs you like to wear out sometimes when an outfit calls for just the right one. 

One of your favorite outfits includes a black tube top, a cropped pastel pink cardigan that hangs off one shoulder, a black and pink plaid mini skirt over some fashionably ripped fishnet tights and a chunky pair of black platform boots. You like to accessorize of course, and typically go for a pastel pink dog collar choker with a heart pendant, chains hanging across your waist and down one side of your skirt, dangly earrings, and several rings. Depending on your mood, your makeup is either very sharp and black, or very soft and pink, and if you choose to wear a wig, its color is the opposite of the makeup you chose.

On the day you accidentally run into several of your coworkers in a bar, you’re in a pink wig with black eyeliner so sharp it could cut a man. 

You’re not surprised that they don’t recognize you. At work you have very plain, naturally colored hair, typically smoothed back into a bun, much like Higuchi and Gin do. In a plain black suit, it’s hard to show off your style. Besides, you wouldn’t want any of your fun clothes getting ruined in the line of duty. And it’s not like, on the rare occasion you hang out with your coworkers, that you’ve had time to go home and change. Typically if you go anywhere with them that isn’t for work, it’s just to lunch in the middle of the day, or to a bar at the end of a shift. They’ve never known you to look anything except professional.

This leads you to want to have a little fun with them all, to see how close you can get and what you can start saying before one of them catches on that it’s you.

You walk past the group a few times on the way to the bar or to the table you’re perched at. They don’t say anything about you at first, and they’re not talking about anything important from what you hear. On your third trip past, however, you do catch one of them mentioning you, and you use your ability-- which allows you to focus your hearing on anything you so choose within a certain radius-- to eavesdrop from across the loud room.

“--same chick has walked by like 5 times already,” Tachihara says.

“Are you sure?” Gin asks.

“Why does it matter? We’re in public,” Higuchi says. “People are going to walk by.”

“I know it’s definitely her because, I mean, look at her. Of course I noticed her.”

You pretend like you don’t notice when several curious heads turn your way.

“God, she’s hot,” Chuuya says, whistling under his breath. “Fucking Christ, those thighs.”

“Hey, I saw her first,” Tachihara says, while the others roll their eyes and tell the two to quiet down.

“I’d offer to share, but if I get a piece of that ass, it’s fucking mine.”

“Jesus Christ, Chuuya, you’ve had too much to drink already.”

“We’ve been here 20 minutes, I’ve barely had one glass!” he says defensively.

“Why don’t you ask her to dance if you’re so interested?” Akutagawa asks, disinterested but amused at the notion of Chuuya making a fool of himself.

“Nah,” he says, waving his hand at his group. “A hot piece of ass like that you’ve gotta chase a little. I’ve gotta buy her a drink, maybe, then ask her to dance later, then lay on the charm.”

“You’re a real ladies man, Chuuya,” Tachihara says sarcastically.

The conversation gradually turns to something else. You let it drift away since your focus isn’t exactly on them anymore, it’s suddenly on the pulsing desire burning in your crotch. “Holy shit,” you think. “Chuuya wants to fuck me so bad he’s making stupid ass plans for it.” Honestly, he could hit it any day of the week if he’d just ask, but he’s never seemed too interested in you at work. “This is what does it for him, I guess,” you think, downing the rest of your drink. You then decide to grab his attention again by stretching a little, arching your back and raising your arms over your head to make your cropped cardigan and your tube top expose a bit of your belly. It’s not a lot, but for someone already desperate to see more of you, it works.

“Fucking hell,” Chuuya mutters under his breath, eyes on you. You make eye contact with him and wink, and when he smirks instead of looking away, you run your hand up your thigh, pulling your short skirt up even higher. His eyebrows raise, giving you a look like “oh yeah?” and you smile. 

“His move,” you think, using your other hand to twirl your empty glass around a little bit. Chuuya excuses himself from the group and goes to the bar quickly.

You’ve got him hook, line, and sinker.

It’s then that the worst thing happens. Higuchi’s phone rings, then Gin’s, and Tachihara’s, and Akutagawa’s, and Chuuya’s, and yours. It’s an emergency alert from the PM. You’re all being called in, and you need to be there fast. You’re only a couple of blocks from the office. All of your coworkers will be there in less than 10 minutes. You don’t have time to go home and change. You have to go right now.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you hiss under your breath, getting up and rushing for the door before the others do. Maybe if you get out ahead of them they won’t notice you--

“God dammit,” Chuuya groans. “I was just about to get her a fuckin’ drink.”

“She’s running out, too,” Higuchi points out.

“It’s weird that she’s going in the same direction as us, right?” Tachihara asks, unsure.

“There are a lot of other things out this way, dumbass,” Chuuya says.

Then you take a left, and the group takes a left. They get closer, and you try to walk faster.

Then you take a right, and they take a right. Then you approach the PM headquarter building.

“What the fuck?” Chuuya asks, rushing forward to try to stop you at the door, but you rush inside as soon as the door opens a crack.

“Hey!” Tachihara calls, rushing in after you. You hit the button to call an elevator, but realize the only available one is several floors away. You’re cornered. The jig is up.

Fuck.

“Heeeey,” you say, slowly turning around to greet the group as they gather. “Any of you know what the emergency is? I’m wondering if it’s about the Detective Agency’s involvement in our failed gun import. I was just telling Akutagawa-san yesterday that I had a feeling they’d end up losing the guns to some other organization stealing them before the Detectives could decide whether to turn us in over it.”

“Oh my god,” Higuchi gasps.

“It’s [Y/N],” Gin says.

“What?!” Chuuya and Tachihara both say, and Akutagawa is the only one to stay focused.

“It likely is exactly that,” he says. “Your foresight is spot on as usual.”

“What’s with this outfit?!” Higuchi asks, feeling your cardigan and grabbing the hem of your skirt. “It’s so short! Why are you dressed like this? You were at the same bar as us!”

“This is how I dress on my days off,” you answer honestly, shrugging. The elevator doors finally open and you all start to file in. “And yes, I’m well aware we were at the same bar,” you say, glancing at Chuuya as he shuffles past you. His cheeks blaze and his eyes lock onto the ground, refusing to meet your gaze.

So that’s how it is.

The emergency meeting goes on for two tense hours. It’s exactly what you and Akutagawa thought it would be about, and your group, as well as other Mafia and specifically Black Lizard leaders and members discuss action plans, potential repercussions, and viable reconnaissance missions. When Mori finally announces that you all deserve a break and that you’re meet again in an hour, you’re the first to get up and leave the room, feeling embarrassed to be in a work situation in your fun outfit.

Several footsteps follow you into the hallway, but they all patter off in different directions after a turn here, a turn there.

Only one set of steps follows you into the stairwell. It’s quiet, with very light steps, but you know it’s there thanks to your impeccable hearing.

The same footsteps follow you down two floors, three, four, five…

You feel like you’re being chased, but you think you know exactly who it is, and so the chase is more exciting than it is scary.

You finally get to the floor that your office is on and leave the stairwell. You walk quickly to your office, go in but leave the door cracked, and to test your theory that you’re being followed, you “accidentally” drop your phone after walking a few feet inside. You slowly bend over, letting your short skirt rise up over the curve of your ass, completely exposing your fishnet-covered ass and black thong to anyone who may be standing at the door. You grab your phone slowly, give a cheeky shake of your butt, then stand back up.

Your office door clicks closed behind you, and the lock engages loudly.

“That show for me?” Chuuya asks. You turn to find him leaning against your door. A quick glance down shows you that he’s already at least half-hard in his pants.

“Who else?” you ask softly, leaning against the edge of the desk. It’s cold on your mostly bare ass, but you act cool, crossing one ankle over the other. Your legs look long and sexy stretched out in front of you, and you can tell that Chuuya thinks so too because he can’t stop looking at them.

“It’s a shame we were called away,” you say to break the tension. “I was looking forward to that drink.”

“Were you?” he asks, slowly walking toward you. His hands are deep in his pockets like usual, always acting calm and cool. The look in his eye is different than normal, though. It’s hungry. “Nice to know.”

“You know, you’re not as forward as I thought you’d be,” you admit, leaning back on your hands. You’re on full display for him now. “I half expected you to be all over me as soon as you closed that door.”

“Tell me to leave,” he says, finally standing toe to toe with you. “Tell me to get the fuck out otherwise I will be all over you.”

“Why would I tell you to get the fuck out when I could tell you to come the fuck on already?”

Chuuya makes a noise between a moan and a growl and leaps forward, standing so both of his legs are over yours. He grabs your face with both of his hands and pulls you in for a hot, hard kiss. It’s all tongue and nipping at each other’s lips and hot panting into each other’s mouths.

Your hands shamelessly roam his body once you’ve sat up to meet him. You push his jackets back off of his shoulders so it falls onto the ground. You feel his muscular back and shoulders and arms. You slide your hands lower, feeling his sides and hips. You start messing with his belt by the time he even realizes he can touch you back.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he pants, yanking at your cardigan so you take it off. “Honestly good that you don’t fucking dress like this at work,” he says, yanking your tube top down too so your breasts are exposed. “I’d be fucking you every time I fucking see you.” He gropes your tits, squeezing them and massaging them in his hands. He tweaks your perked nipples, rolling them between his fingers, making them hard and sensitive. 

“Chuuya,” you whine, “why don’t you suck on them if you like them so much?” He looks up at you and smirks, temporarily grabbing you by the hips to push you further back on your desk so you can lay down comfortably. Once you’re flat he climbs on top, knees on either side of your hips, and leans down to your chest. He licks wet stripes across your tit, teasing your nipple with his tongue. He kisses open-mouthed around your boob, refusing to give you what you really want until you finally whine and shift under him, then he sucks your nipple into his mouth and keeps steady pressure on it for several seconds until finally releasing it with a wet smacking sound. He gives the other breast a similar treatment, teasing and sucking and licking. You reach a hand up into his hair, gently moaning his name while you card your fingers through.

He starts grinding his hard-on against your lower belly, just above your crotch given the way that he’s kneeled over you. You whimper and push your hips up, trying to meet him as he grinds. He’s thoroughly attached to your breasts, playing with one nipple while sucking on the other, trading, kissing, sucking hickies onto them. He works a stream of moans and pants and whines from you, getting you to moan his name several times, which makes him grind down onto you harder.

Finally, his hand leaves your chest and trails down your body, his slightly calloused fingers feeling rough on your soft skin. Chuuya flips your short skirt up, wasting no time in cupping your still-clothed cunt and stroking his fingers over it.

“God damn, you’re wet already,” he says, shifting so his face is against your neck.

“You’re fucking hot,” you admit, tugging on his hair. He bites not-so-gently, leaving an instant red and purple hickey on a very obvious spot. His fingers slowly spread, coming together again almost squeezing your pussy lips together. He does it again after you moan in his ear, adding more pressure to tease you with, and again, but this time his fingers dip under your panties and bunch the fabric up together. He pulls it up, several inches higher than your body, making the fabric squeeze in between your lips, leaving it pressing against your clit.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, chuckling when you grind up against his hand and your own panties, seeking stimulation. “That why you’re letting me touch your cunt? ‘Cause you think I’m hot?”

“Yeah,” you whine, still grinding upward. It’s working, your movements are giving you little shocks of pleasure as the damp fabric drags across your clit and also teases your pussy somewhat. “I’d let you fuck me too.” Your voice is breathy and unsteady, and Chuuya can tell just from the sound of it that you’re getting really worked up.

“I don’t know, doll,” he says, hovering over you by one hand pressed against the desk beside your head. “I kind of like the view watching you fuck yourself on my hand.”

“It’s not really ‘on your hand’ without your fingers in me.” You could swear that his eyes light up.

“What was that?” He teases you again, drifting his fingers over the extremely sensitive skin of your pussy. “Did you say something--” he dips a finger past your lips just enough to hook around your panties and pull them back, pushing them to the side-- “about my fingers?”

“Fucking tease,” you huff, reaching down to grab his hand, but he becomes an immovable force when you try to push his hand further down. “Oh and that stupid fucking ability of yours.” He laughs at that and tsks at you.

“You’ve got a dirty fuckin’ mouth,” he says. “Maybe you need something good in there to clean it out.” He gets off the desk and unbuckles his belt, unzips his pants, and kicks them to the floor. You sit up to see him in just his black underwear and white t-shirt, palming himself through the fabric. “C’mere and suck this dick.”

You obey, getting onto the ground with shaky thighs. He’d gotten you more worked up than you realized, and knowing yourself, sucking his dick is not going to calm you down, it’s going to get you closer to the edge.

You pull his boxers down and he steps out of them. His cock is thick and longer than your fist when you close it around his shaft. You give him a few pumps, spreading some pre-cum down his length, before leaning forward with an open mouth to take him in greedily. You start bobbing your head immediately, trying to take as much of him as possible. He stretches your mouth more than anyone else ever has, and you have a feeling your jaw is gonna get sore if you do this for too long.

Chuuya grabs fistfulls of your hair and uses it to guide you back and forth, setting a quicker pace than you already were. He works up to fucking your mouth, using your head like a sex toy. His tip bounces off the back of your throat multiple times, and you have to focus really hard on not gagging. You get messy, letting spit and drool fall out of the corners of your mouth. Tears also spring up in your eyes from him fucking your throat, but you don’t even try to stop them from falling. Your eyeliner is waterproof, but your mascara isn’t, so some black streaks may fall down your cheeks, but you don’t care. You honestly kind of want to see the fucked out look on your face when this is all over.

“You’re too good at this,” Chuuya moans. “Fucking cockslut, aren’t you? Gonna be my slut now, huh? Gonna let me fuck your throat some more, right? Whenever I want?”

You hum around him but can’t exactly nod given his cock in your mouth. He gets it though, and he also moans when you hum as the vibrations go straight into his sensitive tip when it touches the back of your mouth.

“Gonna cum in your mouth,” he grunts, “gonna make you eat it all.”

You try to shake your head, pushing back on his thighs, whining.

“No?” he asks, slowing down and stopping. “Why not, doll?” He lets you back up, finally letting go of your hair.

“That’s a waste,” you croak out, then clear your throat and try to make the fucked-out sound go away. “If you don’t bend me over my desk and fuck me until I scream I’m never fucking touching you again.”

“Oh, fuck yeah!” he says excitedly, reaching down for your arms. He picks you up effortlessly thanks to his ability, and for some reason that really does it for you. You moan just from that touch, feeling your pussy throb. Then he turns you around, pushes you down onto your desk, and smacks your ass hard. You yelp and then moan as he rubs the sting out.

“Where do you want me to cum? On your back?”

“In my cunt, dumbass.”

“Geez, you’re a fucking bitch, you know that?” he hisses, squeezing one hand around the base of his cock while the other swings and spanks you again. “And it’s so fucking hot.” He spanks you again. He refuses to tell you he felt his orgasm building from you telling him to cum inside, though his brain is being overrun by that thought now.

He flips your skirt up and rubs his hands on your ass, squeezing your cheeks and gently smacking them to make them jiggle.

“Are you having fun?” you ask him, earning another hard spank, which you moan loudly in response to, a fun smirk on your face. “I kinda like that,” you coo, wiggling your hips back toward him. “Spank me again, Chuuya-san. I’ve been very, very bad.” 

He spanks you hard and you yelp, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. “Oh, fuck,” you moan softly, torn between pleasure and pain. “You’re an asshole.” He spanks you again on the other cheek. “Will you fuck me already, asshole?”

“I would if you’d stop being a bitch.”

“Maybe you’ve gotta fuck the bitch out of me,” you say, trying to look at him over your shoulder. “You’ll never know until you try.”

“Amen,” he says flippantly, pulling your panties to the side again to make sure they’re still out of his way. He rubs his fingers over your wet pussy, dipping between the folds but never into your vagina. He spreads your wetness all over your folds, as if it wasn’t there already, but then he huffs and you hear a slight ripping.

“What was that?” you ask, turning to him.

“Stupid fucking lines are in my way.”

“Lines? My fishnets? You did not just rip my tights, you fucking douche.”

“So what if I did?” he asks, stroking himself with your wet.

“Are you serious? You fucking a-- ohhh, fuck!” You try to insult him again but get cut off by his thick cock skewering you in one swift movement. You’re so wet and ready that he slides straight in, your walls stretching to fit around his girth.

“Fuuuuuck,” he moans, throwing his head back as he bottoms out. “Your bitch pussy is the best shit I’ve ever felt, I swear to god,” he says, grabbing both sides of your hips as he withdraws and then snaps his hips forward again. “You’re so fucking hot.”

“Oh, shit, Chuuyaaa,” you whine, voice going high and strained. “You’re so big, what the fuck? What the-- fuuuck,” you moan as he sets a pace, hips snapping forward every second, filling the room with wet fucking sounds and the smack of his heavy balls against your thighs.

“I’ve gotta fuckin’ see you,” he says after only a minute, backing out of you. You grunt and groan, glaring at him over your shoulder until he once again grabs you with that ability of his and moves you around like you weigh nothing. He has you on your side, one leg hanging off the desk, the other hooked over his shoulder, and then he teases your pussy with the head of his cock, dragging it back and forth, up and down your lips, pushing in only near your clit, not near your hole.

“Chuuya, please,” you sigh, reaching down toward where your bodies meet, but he grabs your hand and pins it to the desk. “Please fuck me, don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what?” he asks cheekily, moving his hips as if thrusting, only letting his cock rub between your pussy lips.

“Don’t tease me,” you pant, trying to squirm your hips. “Put your cock back in me, now.”

“Now?” he asks, playing dumb.

“Now,” you insist. He rubs his tip against your clit.

“What about now?”

“Stop teasing me!”

“You know, that’s no way to ask for a favor,” he says. “Maybe I’ll just walk away. Then what would you do? Fuck yourself on your fingers?”

“I’ll find Akutagwa,” you huff, trying to loosen your hand from his grasp. He barks out a laugh, whole body shaking for a moment.

“Akutagawa?! He wouldn’t know what to do with a pussy like this, babe,” he smirks, finally moving his tip back toward your hole. “You really don’t think he could fuck you like I can, right?”

“What if I do?” You try to keep sounding tough, but the brat is being teased out of you, and you really, really want to be fucked dumb on his cock right now. “Maybe-- ahhh--” Chuuya enters you slowly, smirking down at you and the way your eyes roll back before fluttering closed. 

“Maybe what?” Chuuya asks, bottoming out.

“Maybe-- Akutagawa--” you stutter as Chuuya pulls back and snaps his hips forward again, spearing your g-spot as if he was locked on target.

“Akutagawa?” he asks, trying to lead you on as he slowly builds his pace. You try to babble something out, but as he starts properly fucking you, leaning over you and holding your leg up so he can press you into the desk, you just can’t think of anything except for Chuuya.

“Chuuya-- Chuuya-- Oh, fuck, right there-- Ohh, Chuuya!”

The sound alone is enough to make someone blush, your wet pussy gushing around him every time he goes balls deep, his body pressing against yours, getting wet and precum and sweat all over each other's crotches. You both get lost in it, moaning and swearing and giving stupid empath threats to each other.

“You better make me cum,” you say to him, and he responds “You better stop being such a bitch when I make this pussy squirt.”

He starts palming your tits again when he gets close, panting and fucking you as quickly as he can.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. You sure I can bust inside?” he manages to ask through his panting.

“Yes,” you moan, “oh fuck yeah. Cum in this pussy, daddy.”

“Daddy?!” he asks, and that’s what does it. You caught him so off guard that his whole body jerks and he hunches over you, cumming a big, hot load into your cunt. His face is burning red, and some sweat drips down his forehead. His eyes are squeezed shut, his mouth dropped open, a tiny bit of drool about to sneak out the corner of his mouth. “Fucking bitch,” he says, but it’s so high pitched and tense that it makes you laugh. Your pussy involuntarily contracts when you laugh, and your whole body slightly jiggles under him, and it makes him yelp and moan again, long and drawn out. “God damn,” he whines, pulling back as if he’s going to back out now.

“Hey, hey, hey,” you say, trying to stop him by the leg that’s thrown over his shoulder. “You didn’t make me cum yet. You’re not done here, Chuuya.”

“I’m not but my dick is,” he says, still kind of whiny. “I think you just sucked me dry, I really fucking think you did.” You can’t help but to laugh a little more as he lowers your leg and rolls you onto your back. “It’s only polite--” he says, dropping to his knees “--that I return the favor.” In a flash his tongue is on your pussy, lapping up his cum as it spills out of you. He swallows it without comment, and keeps lapping at your pussy, dipping his tongue into your hole while it’s still nice and open from his cock. You run your hand through his hair again, making sure he can’t pull back too far. You want his whole face in your cunt and you aren’t letting up on this. 

His fingers join his mouth, taking over for his tongue in prodding at your hole. They slip inside, twisting together at the same time as they pull in and out. He teases your g-spot every time this way, and the side of his fingers on your sensitive walls feels so so good. You start moaning his name when his tongue swirls around your clit, working relentless circles on it. He intersperses little sucks on it, and once he even dips his nose down and uses it to rub your clit since it’s a bit firmer than his tongue. He eats you out like an absolute fucking champ, shaking his head and blowing out to give you slight vibrating sensations, suckling to give you quick peaks of stimulation, and flicking his tongue back and forth and rolling it in circles to build your orgasm up higher and higher and higher until finally.

“Oh god, Chuuya-- I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna-- oohhhh Chuuya!!” Your back arches up, your fists close tightly in his hair, and you force his face into your pussy as you cum on his mouth and his fingers, rolling your hips to meet his touches. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down, just keeps letting you use him as your orgasm rolls and rolls and finally starts to patter out. Only when you let go of his hair does he sit upright, pull his fingers out of you, and suck your cum off of his fingers.

“You’re a lot of fun, you know that?” he asks, standing up, stretching his somewhat sore muscles.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you sigh happily. Your whole body feels weightless and blissful and you aren’t ready to get up yet, even as Chuuya starts getting dressed.

“You dress like this often?”

“Every day off,” you say, finally having enough energy to at least pull your tube top back up to cover your breasts.

“Good. You should come see me again then.”

“You came to see me. And yes, you should come see me again.” You sit up, tilting your head and smiling mischievously at him.

“Guess I didn’t fuck the brat out of you yet,” he mumbles, reaching up to grab your jaw in his hand. “Next time then.”

“I’d love to see you try.”

#ask answered #bsd chuuya #chuuya smut #chuuya x reader #chuuya x reader smut #bungo stray dogs smut #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader smut #bsd chuuya smut

[sas-soulwriter]

Hello , here are some really basic writing tips.

Intriguing Openings: Start with a bang! Drop your readers into the middle of action or create a mystery that begs to be solved. Make them curious from the first sentence.

Character Backstories: Dive deep into your characters' pasts. Share their quirks, secrets, and defining moments. Readers love discovering what makes characters tick.

Sensory Descriptions: Paint a vivid picture using all five senses. Describe the smell of freshly baked cookies, the feel of a soft summer breeze, or the taste of a sour lemon.

Plot Twists: Keep your readers on their toes with unexpected plot twists. Surprise them by turning a seemingly predictable story into something extraordinary.

Cliffhangers: Leave your audience hanging at the end of a chapter or post. A well-placed cliffhanger will have them eagerly awaiting the next installment.

Metaphors and Similes: Add color to your writing with creative comparisons. For example, "Her smile was as bright as a thousand suns," adds a vivid and poetic touch.

Character Relationships: Explore complex dynamics between characters. Highlight their conflicts, alliances, and the evolution of their relationships throughout the story.

Symbolism: Incorporate symbols or motifs that carry deeper meaning. They can enhance the overall theme and give readers something to ponder.

Narrative Voice: Experiment with different narrative voices, such as first-person, third-person limited, or even second-person, to find the one that suits your story best.

Foreshadowing Mysteries: Drop subtle hints and clues early in the story that will become crucial later on. Readers love piecing together mysteries.

Unreliable Narrators: Consider using an unreliable narrator to keep readers guessing. They might misinterpret events or hide critical information.

Flashbacks as Puzzle Pieces: Use flashbacks strategically to reveal key aspects of the story or characters. Make them fit together like a jigsaw puzzle.

Dialect and Dialogue: Give characters distinct voices through their speech patterns and accents. Engaging dialogue can showcase personality and culture.

Emotional Rollercoasters: Take readers on an emotional journey. Make them laugh, cry, and experience every emotion alongside your characters.

Settings with Personality: Make the setting almost like another character. Show how it impacts the characters and the story's mood.

Evoke Empathy: Share characters' vulnerabilities, fears, and desires. Readers relate to flawed, authentic characters with whom they can empathize. Let them fail.

Experiment with Structure: Play with non-linear timelines, multiple perspectives, or fragmented narratives. Challenge traditional storytelling conventions.

Clever Wordplay: Incorporate puns, wordplay, or clever language usage to add humor and depth to your writing.

Cinematic Scenes: Write scenes that readers can visualize as if they were watching a movie. Use dynamic action and vivid descriptions.

Leave Room for Imagination: Don't spell everything out. Allow readers to use their imaginations to fill in some blanks.

Remember that storytelling is an art, and there's no one-size-fits-all approach. You can use these techniques to improve your unique style and the story you want to tell. Most importantly, have fun writing.

And remember to drink enough water!

If you want to have more of this , than click below and follow me.

#writeblr #writerscommunity #writers #writer things #writersociety #writblr #writers on tumblr #on writing #advice #write #writer #writing advice #storytelling #writing community #creative writing #writers and poets #writing #writings #writing tools #writing prompt #writing tips #writing inspiration #writers block #good advice

[lemonlimestar]

she needs to fight!!! here’s my redesign for anita :)

i felt like something was lacking in her costume and i wanted to take a stab at redesigning her so! here she is!

explanation will be under the cut :]

when i started this redesign, i knew i wanted to incorporate her cultural background a lot more. she is implied (i don’t believe they outright specify it) to practice specifically haitian voodou & both of my parents practice african traditional religions. so, i talked to my dad about different ways to connect that to her costume and he brought up west african masquerades.

i was sent many, many videos (thank u dad 🫡) of masquerades as well as celebrations of junkanoo, which is a festival that started in north america rooted in west african festival traditions & they both have bright colors & masks that i felt really lent itself to the empress costume

i knew i wanted to keep her general silhouette, but i tweaked it to better suit the masquerade & festival costumes e.g. her glove and boot cuffs being flipped.

the stripes were a common aspect, and i based the masks more on junkanoo than masquerades just because of the important meanings behind masquerading that i am not qualified to apply to a dc comics characters ajhdjsja. i also made her under armor a lot more yellow to have less people confuse it as her skin? which i’ve seen a few times.

speaking of, now onto her actual appearance. i think anita has a very cute design, but like many non-white comic characters , it is a bit of a struggle. but! that’s an easy fix.

first, i gave her knotless french curl braids, bc all the black vigilantes i draw have to have protective hairstyles apparently lmao. but also it’s a nice mix of the braids she wears in yj sometimes and her usual hair. yippee

(+ i just made her empress hair a wig, bc it’s very much more convenient & plays into the festival costume aspect)

and, finally, i made her skin tone a lot deeper bc, especially compared to her white teammates, her skin is super gray 😭 which is common for a lot of brown comic characters unfortunately. i could’ve just made her og skintone more saturated but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ it’s a free country.

and that’s a wrap :^) ty to anyone who actually sat through my rambling! if anything came off unclear i’ve open to questions about it. bring back anita fite 2k24

#anita fite #empress dc #bart (as in bug art) #ANITA I MISS U #i hope my explaination makes sense 😭 me and my dad had like a 2 hour convo about it #i tried to tie the cultural stuff with comic book camp #the skintight like. gold-ish gray was killing meeee #fusha and yellow for the win #young justice #young just us #yj98 #dc #dc comics #detective comics

[ne-videl]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞

♡

yandere Ayato x fem reader

there's something wrong with your employer.

yandere, mentions of violence & kidnapping, stalker Ayato, non-consensual touching (not sexual, just our man being clingy), reader has a pretty low self-esteem, sfw this time I guess??, poor english

word count: ~2k

a/n: alright I decided to procrastinate and ignore my study, and what's a better way to do it than posting some more of my stuff?

p.s. лисичка солнце как ты меня находишь?? теперь мне стыдно за то что я все никак не могу дописать главу про нёвиллета и ничего не придумала про венти 🤧🤧

enjoy.

bright sun of Inazuma shone on the kimono shop on the corner of the street, filling its visitors with pleasant laziness, and the hostess herself with a desire to end the stuffiness of the day as soon as possible.

you hung your haori on the back of a chair covered with bunch of fabric and exhaled wearily.

it's only noon yet, and you're already listening to insults from a well-to-do girl after announcing that her outfit won't be ready at least until the next evening.

"and besides, with your appearance, I would be ashamed to even look people in the eye!" – the client left, slamming the door irritably. the bell on the door rang plaintively.

"why get personal...?" – you rubbed the bridge of your nose with another sigh, while your gaze slid to the dusty mirror.

impassive glass showed a young woman. always sad eyes, hands covered with calluses and small scars from work. slightly disheveled bangs framing a tired face.

"no matter what, it's still you." – your reflection replied mockingly.

you knew yourself that you weren't that beautiful. there was a little chance to notice you in a crowd, "unremarkable" was the word that suited you the most. the only bright detail on you was, perhaps, a smear of red lipstick on your dry lips. gloomy appearance and an overly calm personality did not add to your attractiveness either. but you were a reliable and practical person, and therefore at least you had a successful career as a tailor.

summer in Inazuma was a nice season for the likes of you: time of festivals and celebrations, banquets and parties of nobles. sometimes you wanted to be in the shoes of your clients yourself: a charming, cheerful young lady choosing among a string of colorful fabrics the one that would suit her new luxurious outfit.

but, unfortunately, you were just a gloomy mistress of a sewing workshop, overwhelmed with work in the hot season.

the long-suffering doorbell, which had to endure a lot of tantrums and dissatisfied cries from visitors today, once again tinkled plaintively, forcing you to come out of your thoughts and turn around.

tall gentleman dressed in expensive white clothes stood in front of the counter. gentle, beautiful face was decorated with a friendly smile and a mole under his lips. at first glance it wasn't difficult to understand that someone very important was in front of you. you were even a little embarrassed, just a little bit: he, bright and cheerful, looks at your modest figure, dressed in a dark, simple kimono.

looks without taking his eyes off.

"lady seamstress? good day. I'm here with a business proposal for you." – the man came closer, still smiling. – "you see, my sister happened to visit your workshop a short time ago."

you tilted your head to the side, scratching your chin. the man in front of you surely looked familiar, for some reason. so it should not be very difficult to remember some pretty young lady with blue hair, from whom the same aura of aristocracy and prosperity would emanate.

"I remember something like that. you must be lady Ayaka's older brother?" – you looked at the supposed head of the Yashiro commission with an impassive look. you're too tired to be surprised by anything, and after all, important people have visited you before. if anything, you certainly had no equal in skill.

"yes, indeed. you are very observant, [name]." – you raised your eyebrow: you couldn't remember telling your name to Ayaka. well, it's not like it really matters, right?

your strange visitor continued to speak with an unnerving gleam in his purple eyes.

"as you have already understood, my name is Kamisato Ayato. I would like to offer you to work at our mansion."

____*:･ﾟ✧

"it's beautiful. I like it." – the younger Kamisato was looking at the sleeves of the kimono with satisfaction while you, now her personal tailor, pinned the hem with pins.

"but, I would like to ask you something, [name]." – you raise your head, looking up at your lady. – "you make such beautiful things. why don't you ever wear them yourself? I always see you in such inconspicuous colors. no bright fabrics, no embroidery."

you get up from your kneeling position, your scarred hands concentrating on straightening the fabric while you mumble without looking up from your work.

"you see, milady, there are people like you and people like me. beautiful things are meant for beautiful people, for important ones: who look good in gold embroidery and silk hemlines." – you look up at Ayaka, narrowing your eyes a little. – "people like me don't wear such clothes. besides, I don't have the looks to wear bright fabrics."

you walked over to the table, adjusting your black haori and assessing the work you've done. kimono suits your lady, who is currently looking down in embarrassment, realizing the huge difference in your statuses.

"ah, I also wanted to know..." – Ayaka swallows, averting her eyes and changing the subject. – "you're going to the festival, aren't you? I'd like to do your hair, if you don't mind."

you answered as calmly as usual, stating the fact.

"I have nothing to wear. and no one to go with." – calloused fingers unconsciously run through your hair, as if you could not imagine someone gathering them into a beautiful hairstyle.

"how is that? what about my older brother?" – the younger Kamisato bats her eyes with confusion.

"master? why would he?" – you tilted your head to the side in genuine surprise.

"wait, I remember exactly, brother said that you will go to the festival with him." – you smiled wearily, as if Ayaka was a child who blurted out some nonsense.

you? with him? you'd rather cut off your own finger than believe it.

you felt your master's hands resting on your shoulders.

"that's right, you're coming, and you're coming with me. I'll take care of the outfit, and I'll do your hair too." – Ayato glanced at his sister and continued talking. it seemed to you that he was standing a little closer than he should have been: at least you heard his voice right next to your ear. – "are you done here? can I borrow you for a while, [name]?"

you just nodded cautiously, wary that your master still had his hands on your shoulders. and the fact that you could clearly feel his hot chest pressed against your back.

"eavesdropping is bad, brother!" – that's right, eavesdropping is bad. and you could only think just how much did he hear.

your walk down the corridor was in silence: you didn't want to speak until you were asked, and apparently he didn't want to ask.

"master," you finally spoke up, tired of the suffocating silence, – "why would you need to accompany me to the festival?"

Ayato gave you a look with his cunning lavender eyes and replied with an unchanging smile.

"because I want to."

"what about clothes? you know, I feel quite good in what I usually wear." – you raised your voice slightly, sincere confusion shone in your eternally tired eyes, – "and my hair? why would you need to-"

Ayato bent down, holding a strand of your hair between his fingers.

you saw him kiss your hair, felt his hot breath on your face.

"because. I. want. to."

that night, as at all nights before in this estate, you felt like you were being watched.

and they didn't take their eyes off for even a second.

____*:･ﾟ✧

summer passed quickly: time for banquets, bright festivals and celebrations ended.

you always finished this usually noisy and busy season with a sense of accomplishment, although, of course, you had less work than usual this summer.

you thought you loved to work. at least your hands were always busy with something: fixing someone's obi, making a sample for the store's assortment or another order. to live you need money, and to have money you need to work. so you've been working as long as you can remember.

that's why it was a surprise to find yourself sitting and doing nothing. Thoma did the mending of clothes and other simple work, and new things, as it turned out, were not needed too often by your masters. so all that remained was to drink tea with them and walk around, feeling guilty for your rather big salary.

archons, it's like you're not a tailor but a friend for them.

on the day when you were ready to climb the wall from idleness – such a seemingly unusual thing for you in the past – you finally decided to visit your employer.

Ayato perked up as soon as you appeared at the door of his office.

"master." – you bowed briefly, looking at him with your eternally tired eyes.

"what can I do for you, dear?" – lord Kamisato, realizing that you were here on a business matter, continued with an impenetrable smile, – "is there something you're not satisfied with? if you don't like the food or the clothes, then I'll immediately-"

you shook your head no, clenching your hands nervously, and spoke. there was a tiny bit of embarrassment in your usually calm voice.

"you see, master," – you swallowed nervously, – "I'm a little worried that I don't really have anything to do."

under Ayato's confused gaze, you continued, explaining what you meant.

"I've been working as long as I can remember myself, and when you offered me to work for you, I expected a higher level of workload." – you exhaled.

"I think I feel guilty for sitting around all day. at least let me fix the servants' clothes."

Ayato scratched his chin while his purple eyes seemed to drill a hole in you. you wanted to leave, to end this conversation as quick as possible. you've never been very comfortable in the presence of your employer. you felt the urge to run away to lady Ayaka and distract yourself with idle conversations, or embroidery – with anything.

"no, no, dear, that won't do. I can't let your pretty hands do that." – your gaze dropped to your rather elegant, but scarred and callused hands. not "pretty" at all.

"then," – you sighed, – "then I'm asking for your dismissal. in that case, it would be better for me to return to my shop in the city. I can't sit around all day, master."

pen crunched in Ayato's hands and fell onto the countertop, breaking in half.

you couldn't see him get up from the table before you felt his hot arms wrapped around your waist in a strangleingly tight grip. gloved finger gently stroked your cheek, outlined the edge of a dark circle under your eye.

seeing in your gaze the absolute misunderstanding of what is happening, commissioner Yashiro only smiled gently.

"[name], sweet, sweet [name]. no matter how beautiful a kimono is, if you lost your legs you won't be able to wear it, don't you think? I would recommend that you don't even think about leaving me. besides, Ayaka will be sad. we all got so attached to you."

Ayato giggled sickly, stroking your hair.

it's time to start preparing for the wedding.

____*:･ﾟ✧

[name]. sweet, adorable [name].

quiet and calm woman living on a street corner. completely unnoticeable in a noisy crowd. smoothly, smoothly her hair flutters in the wind. scarred, thin fingers hold the bundle of fabric tightly.

last name is unknown.

date of birth is unknown.

presumably an orphan.

owns a sewing workshop in the city.

not married.

"is this really all that has been found out?" – Ayato puts down the papers, staring intently at the servant who just nods nervously.

"I see. you may leave."

it's probably a good thing she doesn't have a family. no one would look for her if, say, he decided to kidnap her.

any other person would not have noticed her dark silhouette among the noisy streets. would not have remembered the features of her tired face. would not have made inquiries, looking into her past, find out her schedule, send people to monitor and report to him where and with whom she was. any other wouldn't have memorized what she likes and what she doesn't like, and what time she goes to bed.

anyone else wouldn't, but to commissioner Yashiro, she was the most precious person in the world.

ah, she's so diligent! every time Ayato sees his charming seamstress on the street, she always carries some bundles of fabrics, or in the shop, always busy.

today [name] is also working hard.

hiring her at the manor was the right decision: it meant always having her in sight, by his side. whether it was trying on another suit, when he could feel the light touches of her calloused hands sending euphoric shivers down his back, or just talking over tea – being in the company of a gloomy tailor was great.

humans are greedy, selfish creatures by nature. Ayato was no exception–a man of his status could afford everything and even more. and at the moment, his "everything" was her.

sweet, sweet [name].

slipping into her bedroom in the middle of the night has already become a familiar, routine activity. yukata fell off her shoulder, exposing her skin, while she slept, wrapped in a blanket and quietly snoring.

Ayato carefully, so as not to wake her up, sat down next to her and stroked her hair.

of course, so far they are just a worker and an employer.

"but not for long." – he whispered to himself.

you've always wanted to be in the shoes of your clients, haven't you, my dear? to be a noble lady dressed in luxurious silks?

well, you don't have to worry, your wish will come true soon. you won't mind becoming the wife of the head of the Yashiro commission, right, [name]?

I'm very very sleep deprived I wanna scream cry and throw up

bye!!

#yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere ayato #yandere ayato x reader #yandere #genshin x reader #genshin impact #yandere x reader #yandere x you #genshin x you #kamisato ayato #misha.writes

[jinwoosungs]

{ 140 }

love letter of flowers.

jinwoo sung x florist.fem!reader

lately, there has been a handsome young man who frequented at your flower shop.

he was well dressed, always appearing within the cozy confines of your quaint little shop while in a pristine suit. with his ebony locks of hair falling across his features in gentle waves coupled along with grey eyes that seemed to shine beneath the sunlight, perfectly mirroring his emotions...

you found that you couldn't look away from him, even if you tried.

he had been visiting your shop daily for roughly a month now, with him buying the most extravagant of bouquets for someone you assumed that he loved a great deal. for some odd reason, just the thought of him already having a lover made your chest ache.

despite the bouquets he had purchased being chosen and crafted by your own loving touch, it made you yearn for a type of love this man and his beloved had. truly, the he had to be absolutely crazy about his girlfriend to buy her such gorgeous bouquets every single day.

as you were caught up in your reveries, you find yourself breaking out of your daydreams when the sounds of chiming bells alerts you to an incoming customer. as you trail your eyes toward the entrance, you felt your heart skip beats once more, seeing him again-

sung jinwoo.

he greets you with a kind smile before looking over at your collection of bouquets. curious as to what he was going to choose, you steadily head over to your cash register and keep sneaking glances at him.

after a few minutes of consideration, he chooses the bouquet he was going to gift, which had to be the most expensive one yet: a rainbow bouquet of roses consisting of bright petals shaded in a variety of colors.

your throat seems to close up in response to this man's dedication, ringing up the bouquet while tying a neat bow against its cellophane wrapping.

"your girlfriend must be lucky to have you." you find yourself telling him casually, trying to hide those stupid emotions that were felt bubbling within your chest.

"excuse me?"

hearing the absolute confusion within his voice makes you freeze and do a double take. gathering your courage, you look back up at him with a tilt of your head.

"you come in here every day to buy a bouquet... isn't it for your lover?"

after hearing your explanation, you felt your cheeks turn hotter in response to the sounds of his laughter. your assumptions seemed incredibly amusing to him, as he spent the next several minutes laughing all while trying to catch his breath.

"hahaha, y-you're so funny, haha..." you watch as jinwoo wipes the tears from his eyes, finally calming down before confessing to you.

"all of these bouquets are gifts for my mom... she..." he trails off, appearing shy all of a sudden as he rubs the back of his neck with a hand. "she was a victim to the eternal sleep disease, and she woke up not too long ago. i didn't want to take her for granted anymore, so i decided to spoil her whenever i could now that she's awake and well."

a sense of guilt was felt coursing through you, and you felt incredibly selfish for actually feeling envious over this whole ordeal. this man standing before you was not only incredibly beautiful on the outside-

but perhaps more so than that was the beauty he held on the inside, with you knowing that he had an unconditional kindness settled deep within his heart and soul.

as if he could read your thoughts, jinwoo gives you a lazy grin. "was there a reason why you brought this up?"

"n-no! no reason at all!" you take his debit card then and insert it into your card reader, taking his payment for the bouquet that had always been meant for his mother. you really hoped that jinwoo didn't catch on, or had any suspicions to your words-

but something about the look in his eyes made you think that he had probably known all along.

wanting to do something to make up for your asinine assumptions, you call out to jinwoo just as he held the newly purchased and precious bouquet within his arms.

"if you could wait a moment, sir, i- i have something for you."

jinwoo stops walking and gives you a gentle nod. as you go back to the aisles of your shop, your eyes finally land on the single bloom that you had been looking for:

a red carnation, to convey how much i admire him.

holding the red carnation gingerly within your hand, you tie a slender white ribbon over its stem before giving it to jinwoo.

"here, this one is on the house, just for... you know, your daily visits, and the fact that you're sweet enough to buy a bouquet for your mother every single day and all."

were your eyes playing tricks on you, or was it due to the lighting of your shop? because you swore you saw jinwoo's pale cheeks take on an almost rosier hue the moment he accepts your carnation.

"t-thank you. i'm not doing much, but i do want to make my mother happy."

giving him a nod, you wave goodbye to him the moment he leaves your store, letting out a dreamy sigh as you kept your gaze on him, never once straying away from him until the moment you could no longer see his retreating back.

{ ... }

it wasn't until much later that you realized just who sung jinwoo truly was-

and such realization came in the form of his supposed fans waiting for him to arrive to your flower shop as they seemed to linger outside of its periphery.

in fact, even jinwoo himself was caught off guard by those people who considered themselves a huge part of his fanbase. he seemed hesitant, and although the voices sounded muffled, you could hear bits and pieces of the conversation as you understood the gist of what was going on.

those people were absolutely smitten with jinwoo.

deciding to do a quick search of his name, you figured that he would be some minor celebrity due to some charity work he had done (because even the heavens know that the man has the heart to do so!)

so when his name popped up, and you saw his title as being yet another s-rank hunter within korea, you felt your mind go dizzy in response.

this explained how jinwoo was able to afford purchasing a new bouquet for his mother every day, with his card never seeming to decline. in fact, s-rank hunters were practically considered celebrities here-

and you felt your courage in admitting your feelings for him shrivel up in response to this newfound fact.

because you knew that you would never be able to bask in the same world as him, being labeled as a mere civilian who had no special abilities that could even survive the gates that would randomly appear, let alone fight in them.

so you continue watching the fans as they surround jinwoo with a sigh, yet, it seemed as though their interactions had taken on a bit of a stranger tone. jinwoo kept his hands upright, shaking his head at every phone and notebook that was pointed at him. he keeps gesturing at you and says a few words to them.

and oh, if you only knew that you were most likely going to have one of the busiest days of your life.

immediately, his haul of fans rush into your shop, taking bouquets and singular flowers alike as they lined up to purchase what you had to offer. despite how overwhelming the sudden influx of customers were, you were able to accurately sell the bouquets and flowers jinwoo's fans had purchased.

this went on for a few hours, and once the last of your customers had left, you were left looking at how your sales had practically doubled thanks to jinwoo. by the end of it all, your hair was left in a bit of a mess, with those loose strands falling out of your ponytail.

as you were trying to catch your breath, you hear the sounds of jinwoo's rich chuckles as he slides up towards your counter, this time with a simple bouquet of white lilies in his hand. you give him a look of suspicion, your chest practically heaving up and down in tune with your labored breaths when you shakily ask, "w-what did you do?"

a wide grin paints his handsome features as he lets out a hum while saying your name. "i don't know what you're talking about."

you purposely arch an eyebrow at him in response. "you're telling me that you had nothing to do with the sudden influx of people that nearly purchased my entire stock?"

jinwoo scratches at the tip of his nose in response, completely amused by the feign accusation in your voice. "well... i may have told them that i wouldn't take a selfie with them, or sign their notebooks if they didn't buy at least one item from your shop."

a sudden warmth was felt spreading across your chest when you ask with a bit of a tremor in your voice, "isn't that... kind of illegal?"

he hums and shakes his head, "i don't think so. after all, they were all loitering in front of your shop waiting for me... and i couldn't allow them to cause such an inconvenience to you without doing something about it."

"after all..." he suddenly leans closer to you, with his hands softly brushing back your hair as you felt your heart skipping beats in response when he tells you, "it was all my fault... they came here waiting for me, so... i took advantage of the situation to help you out, instead."

you were left speechless, unable to say a word when jinwoo hands you his debit card once more. as usual, you ring up the card and wrap another ribbon around the bouquet, and this time, you already had in mind what flower you wished to give him as a simple gift.

a pale pink ranunculus, as proof of how much i am enchanted by the sheer radiance of him.

you find the perfect bloom still settled amidst its sisters, happy that your patrons hadn't touched such a uniquely beautiful yet simple flower. giving him a shy smile, you place the pastel pink bloom on top of his bouquet of white lilies, basking in his smile.

he gives you another wave goodbye, promising to see you again the next day as you found your heart racing with anticipation.

when he leaves was when you allow your smile to disappear, turning solemn as you thought about how slim of a chance you had with him. despite how you knew that your heart was turning soft with feelings of love for him, you didn't wish to acknowledge such emotions-

because someone as bright and brilliant like jinwoo would never even spare you a second glance.

yet despite how deep down you knew you would never be able to admit your feelings for him, that didn't mean that you would stop conveying them to him-

after all, the least you could do was give him a love letter of flowers each time he came by.

{ ... }

jinwoo couldn't bring himself to allow the single flowers you had given him to die out. using his own hidden abilities as the shadow monarch, he manages to keep them in perfect condition, placing each colorful bloom within a large vase that was filled with water colored a gentle, violet hue.

he keeps such flowers separate from the extravagant bouquets he gives his mom, not even telling her or jinah of their existence. ever since he came across the beautiful woman's quaint little flower shop, he was quite enamored with her.

he would never admit such a thing to those closest to him, but he actually had a silly, ulterior motive to buying bouquets for his mother every day-

and that was to see you again, the beautiful florist who managed to capture his heart with your kindness and curious gaze.

with sigh, he spends the next hour or so simply admiring the single blooms you had given him, allowing his hand to gently caress at each petal, imagining the feel of your lips being just as soft.

"my king, if i could please have your attention."

jinwoo trails his gaze over to igris, one of his most loyal and trusted soldiers. he blinks at the former blood-red commander and gives him a nod, "what is it, igris?"

igris clears his throat while reading a book that had a picture of flowers on them. "may i ask what flowers your beloved has given you?"

"w-what- she's not my-"

"i apologize for the bluntness of my words, my king, but i must know. will you tell them to me?"

jinwoo sighs and carefully takes the precious flowers out of the vase while placing them on his desk.

a red carnation-

pink ranunculus-

pale pink carnation-

red chrysanthemum-

purple tulip-

a pink bluebell.

a deep chuckle was heard from igris as his chest seemed to puff out with pride.

"my king, if you look at the marked pages of this book of flowers and their meanings, you will come to realize that such blooms were were meant to signify that woman's love and devotion to you."

his eyes became wider, and the young hunter could feel his heart pounding from within his throat as igris places the book into his hands. sure enough, as jinwoo read the pages, he was able to piece together the hidden meaning from within each flower.

a red carnation for a deep admiration,

pink ranunculus as proof of someone's enchantment,

pale pink carnation for a new love

red chrysanthemum for a passionate love

purple tulip for a perfect love,

and a pink bluebell, to signify an everlasting love-

jinwoo quickly looks at the time before closing his eyes, searching through the consciousness of one of the soldiers he had placed with you as he saw you locking up your shop while standing on the sidewalk.

"exchange."

before igris would even utter a word, beru was left settled at the desk where his king once sat. the former ant king gives his colleague a look of confusion from suddenly reappearing within his king's room, causing igris to simply shrug in response.

"it seems as though our king has been caught up in the throes of love. we should let him be and wait for his return... with his queen."

{ ... }

you felt a sudden shift in the air the moment you left your shop, shivering slightly when you turn around and was met with the sudden appearance of jinwoo himself.

"wha- jinwoo?!"

he seemed unfazed by the look of panic in your eyes, dressed casually in a white t-shirt and sweatpants. you saw that he now wore simple converses as he takes casual steps closer to you.

upon closer inspection, jinwoo seemed to be blushing, becoming so prominent as even the tip of his ears was flushed as well.

"how did you get here... were you always here?"

jinwoo swallows thickly, running a hand through his hair before letting out a sigh, "you could say that... but, that's not what i'm here for."

before you could ask him what he meant, he goes straight into it while telling you, "those flowers you had given me these past couple of days- you know, as little 'gifts?' yeah, i...i finally know what they all mean."

you froze completely when he mentioned the free flowers you had given him and how he knew their meaning. moving your hands up and down your arms to stave off the sudden chill you felt, you act completely oblivious. "w-what? i don't know what you're talking about. i mean, those were j-just pretty and cute flowers that i gifted for you!"

"a deep admiration..." jinwoo begins to speak in a bit of a trance, "feeling enchanted by me; a new, passionate and perfect love- an everlasting love."

you found yourself waiting with bated breath, not able to move even when he approaches you, placing a hand on your cheek while softly caressing at your skin. "that was the message you wished to convey to me this whole time...?"

your heart was racing once more, feeling your gaze narrowing at him when he inches closer to you. "y-yes... it's true..."

"hm..." he trails off, yet you could see the wide grin that spreads across his lips when he places a hand against your chin, keeping you still as his hot breath was felt tickling at your lips.

"i'm glad to know that you feel the same way. and don't get me wrong, i have every intention of taking you out on a date while claiming you as my girlfriend. but first-

i really want to kiss you right now."

your eager nod and the way you let out a dreamy sigh was all the confirmation jinwoo needed to press his lips against yours in a perfect kiss, making you feel grateful that your love letter managed to reach him after all-

(regardless of the fact that jinwoo needed some help to finally understand the message you were trying to convey 💐)

a.n. - it’s about time i wrote a full on fluffy oneshot that doesn’t have much angst in it for jinwoo 🥹

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x reader #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo sung x you #solo leveling x reader #sung jinwoo #jinwoo sung #.stories

[eat-limes-bitches]

Nowhere else I'd Rather Be

PAIRING: Female Reader x Bucky Barnes

SUMMARY: Soft blues and sunsets make for the perfect wedding.

SONGS: Entrance (0:42 if you want the specific time), Y/n's vows, Bucky's vows

WARNINGS: FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF

Word Count:

A/N: So here it is! The last installment of this, mini-series I guess! I had such a blast writing this and between you and me, I had fully intended on waiting to post this until I was back from my horse show next week, but I couldn't wait. No way in hell, so I hope you enjoy it! If you have any ideas for future writings, my ask box is looking a little empty and sad! Send some ideas my way!

Italics are memories, bold italics are song lyrics

Part 1 | Part 2

Enjoy! <3

Divider by Rookthorne

(3 YEARS LATER)

To say he was nervous would be an understatement. Bucky frantically fiddled with his tie, looking at the color, which caused him to smile for a moment. It was blue, but not bright, soft. Like worn denim. The same blue that matched the upholstery on the deep oak chairs that lined the dried flower petal pathway to where he was standing. The soft fall breeze caused a few of the petals to swirl around at his feet, reminding him of why he was here in the first place.

Bucky heard her humming from the other room when he got home from his morning run. Kicking off his shoes, he followed the sound of the humming to find Y/n plucking the drying petals off of the most recent bouquet, carefully depositing each petal into a glass jar.

“What’cha doing doll?” He called out, startling Y/n causing her to drop the flower she was currently working on.

“Jesus Buck! You scared me!” The pout that appeared on her face caused a chuckle to rumble in his chest. He swept her up in his arms, placing a kiss on her temple.

“Sorry darlin’. Didn’t mean to scare ya.” Y/n hummed in delight as Bucky tightened his embrace.

“Well, if you must know-” She teased, spinning in his arms to face him, “I'm saving the flower petals from the bouquets you give me.”  

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Can I ask why?”

Y/n just smiled.  “Someday, when we get married, I want to use the flower petals from all of the flowers you have given me to decorate the aisle I walk down towards you.”

A hand on his shoulder snapped Bucky back to the present. 

“Hey man, you good? You looked a little lost there for a moment.” Sam said, brushing off Bucky’s suit. Bucky let out a shaky breath and smiled. 

“Yeah, jus’ thinkin’ bout how we got here.”  

Sam nodded his head and gave Bucky another pat on the shoulder before resuming his spot as best man. As he stood there, Bucky looked around at everyone who was there. Y/n’s immediate family was there of course, along with a couple of dear friends in her bridal party. On Bucky’s side, he had Sam and Torres as his groomsmen, and sitting in the crowd, he saw Suri sitting up front with both of Sam’s nephews, to help with the rings, Sarah was sitting nearby with a gentle smile on her face as she visited with the other folks. The kid who worked the counter at Joe’s on Saturdays, Howie, was there too smiling up at Bucky. Most of Sam’s family, who had accepted Bucky as one of their own were in the crow as well, mingling with Y/n’s family. Sam was gracious enough to let the couple use the backyard of the house for the small wedding.

The pair were a few weeks into wedding planning when the talk of location and size came up. 

“How big is this whole thing gonna be, doll?” Bucky asked as he looked at the different swatches of blue fabric sitting on their coffee table.  

Y/n sighed, “Would it be bad if I said I didn’t want a lot of people there? 50 at most?” Bucky looked up from the fabrics to meet Y/n’s gaze.

“Not at all.” He said with a smile, reaching for her hand across the table. “I think a small wedding is just our style if we are being completely honest.” Y/n smiled sweetly at him before resuming her mission to find the flowers she wanted.

“I think you are right. Do you think Sam would let us use the backyard of the house in Louisiana? It's so quiet, and in the fall when those big trees in the backyard are changing color? Underneath that willow tree? Oh, Bucky I think it’d be perfect!” 

Y/n was gushing at the idea, and with the way her eyes sparkled as she described the scene, Bucky was willing to do just about anything to make that dream a reality for her, and of course, as soon as he asked Sam, he said yes.

Bucky blinked back into the present. The fairy lights were starting to show their glow hanging from the branches of the willow tree, swaying gently in the breeze. The sun was just starting to set, the inky purples and blues of the evening starting to slip into the sky, just letting the stars peak out through all of the colors dancing above them. The colors of the leaves danced in the golden light, reflecting off the water nearby, creating a beautiful mosaic of color all around the crowd of people.  Suddenly the music changed. The filler music that had been playing for how long now, Bucky didn’t know, but he did know the song that was playing, it was the song that they danced to that night in the living room when Bucky decided that she was the one for him.

The pair had been cooking dinner, but when the next song on Y/n’s playlist came on, her eyes lit up, matching the smile that found its way onto her face.

“Oh Bucky I love this song! I know it’s not really slow dancing music but will you dance with me?” 

Bucky chuckled as he swept her into the middle of their kitchen. He spun her just as the chorus started and what happened next sealed his fate forever. As she spun, she laughed, one of the most beautiful sounds Bucky had ever heard. The golden rays of the sun danced off of her hair casting a golden glow in the room around them. When she was back in his arms, he pulled her close and pressed his forehead to hers.

“Marry me?” He asked softly. Y/n’s breath froze, perpetually stuck in her lungs.

“What?” She whispered, staring up at him wide-eyed. 

Bucky looked at her. “Y/F/N Y/L/N, will you marry me? I swear I’ll do this again, proper with a ring and everythin’ but I gotta know darling, will you marry me?”

Right as the same chorus started, Y/n appeared at the end of the aisle from Bucky. Sometime during his reminiscing, everyone had stood up and watched her appear, and now were now watching him as he took in the love of his life, standing there in white, bouquet of sunflowers, spray roses, and chamomile in her hands as she started walking towards him. Bucky couldn’t think of a single thing he had done right in his incredibly long life to deserve to be standing where he was right now, but he was forever grateful. 

Time flew by and before he knew it it was time for their vows. Y/n went first. 

“Bucky, ever since I’ve met you we’ve had a lot of learning and growing we have done over our three years together, one of the most noticeable things I have learned is when you go quiet, and won't let your guard down, I hear through the silence that you're trying to figure it out. You're trying to make me proud, believe me now, Baby, to the Moon and back

I still love you more than that. When your skies are grey, and your whole world is shaking

To the Moon and back, I love you more than that.”  

Bucky’s Adam's apple bobbed furiously up and down as the tears streamed down his face. He pulled the pocket square out of his suit pocket and tried to stop the tears flowing down his cheeks but to no avail, they had started flowing the moment Y/n had appeared at the end of the aisle. Steadying himself with a breath, Bucky began his vows.

I remember when I saw you at the movies, and to me, you were a stranger in the room.

But to my surprise, I met your eyes and that was when I knew. Yeah without a doubt, I took you out for coffee. We sat for hours at a table made for two. I love the flowers in your footprints and the sparkle in your eyes. It doesn't matter if it rains or shines cuz I'll be by your side. For the record, you're my treasure, I love you more and more, and after all that we've been through, I can say it, you're my favorite and you'll always be my muse and I hope that in your heart you know it's true.” 

Sam’s nephews brought up the rings, and with a little help from Suri, Bucky had a ring on his finger, identical to the one decorating Y/n’s hand. After the preacher said ‘You may now kiss the bride’ The rest of the evening was a blur for the couple. But once the party was in full swing and they took a rest from dancing, Bucky pulled Y/n into his arms, pressed a kiss to her temple, and whispered in her ear, “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, than here with you.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky fluff #bucky barnes x you

[caesium-55]

—everything is orange. [ iii ]

pairing: lando norris x kpop idol! reader

summary: a racecar driver who needed a fake girlfriend to dispel rumors and a kpop idol who needed publicity for her song. somewhere in between orange cars and orange sunsets, stands something they're afraid of naming.

masterlist.

“Are you feeling better now?” Lando asks, concern marring his handsome features. True to his words, he comes by your hotel room after he finishes the qualifying race. You don't expect him to. The race ended quite late in the evening and you're sure he has to prepare for tomorrow but he's knocking on your door by quarter to twelve and you let him in. He’ll start tomorrow in fourth position, he told you. You acted pleasantly surprised at his revelation as if you didn't watch an illegal livestream of the race on your phone earlier.

“Yeah,” you nod.

He lets out a relieved sigh, hand coming up to his chest, “Oh thank fuck. I was worried.”

“By the way, thank you for driving me home last night. I didn't mean to fall asleep.”

“Did Jinnie tell you that?”

“No, it's in X. They saw you carrying me to your car.”

Your sleeping face on camera is going to haunt your dreams forever. The oily skin and your mouth hanging open. You don't sleep pretty. Knetizens like playing god, smiting everything not pretty, especially celebrities. You're not checking out Naver lately because you're scared of finding what's there.

“Were you doing something? I can leave if you're busy.”

“It's nothing important,” you wave your hand dismissively. “Just working on a song.”

Lando’s eyebrows rise to his hairline.

“You produce songs?”

You nod, humming.

“The reason I agreed to this PR stunt is to get publicity for my upcoming single,” you explain. You assume Lando already knows about it, the real reason why you're here. Despite that, you still tell him anyway. “Wanna hear it, boyfriend?”

“I didn't know you produce songs.”

“Well, now you know.”

He laughs at the dryness of your tone.

“Well, I’m glad you offered. I wouldn't mind listening.”

“It's all just basic melodies. Nothing concrete.”

You hand him a headphone.

“So you’re like KPop Charlie Puth?”

Lando takes the headphone.

“Please, I can't even compare to his producing skills.”

You press play on Demo_42.

You order hotel service food because he tells you he hasn't eaten and while you both finish the bowls of noodles, you converse with each other. Talking with Lando is easy, you find out. He knows how to keep the conversation alive and going despite the fact that you don't have much to say most of the time, that you frequently speak with finality. You praise him during the conversation once. He says he’s got practice from his teammate, who, like you, is a man of few words. He decides it is time to go back to his hotel at 2:50 AM.

“Thank you for today, boyfriend,” you say and if you sound too sincere, you like to think it’s because you’re a good actress.

A flustered laugh escapes his throat.

“I like the sound of that, girlfriend.”

A pause.

“I think I learned a lot about you today,” he scratches his nose and moves his hands as if he doesn't know what to do with them. “Thanks. For that.”

You wave your hand dismissively, as if to tell him that you don't need his thanks.

“Drive safe.”

“Good night, girlfriend.”

The WAG wardrobe of the day consisted of a Dsquared2 black suited jumpsuit and Versace crystal medusa ‘95 sandals of the same color. For accessories, you go with silver. Rings are your staple and earrings to pair. You don't wear a necklace.

When you reach for your racer jacket, a personal favorite that you think will absolutely be the highlight of your outfit with its white-red-black color combo, Jinnie stops you.

“Wear the McLaren one,” she orders, pointing at the McLaren jacket that sits on the couch. Orange. Bright. Easy to notice. It's almost as if it’s begging for attention.

You grimace.

“No.”

“[Name],” Jinnie’s voice holds warning. You ignore it. Obedience is not your strong suit.

“No.”

Despite your insistence, you end up leaving the racer jacket at the hotel and bringing the tacky McLaren one to the paddock. You secretly brought a black blazer and shove it inside your shoulder bag, which caused the bag to look like a Minecraft block. You pout childishly in the backseat of the car. You don't like orange.

“Stop pouting.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

You hear Jinnie sigh, exasperated.

“I can't with you sometimes.”

You ask Jinnie to drive by a coffee shop. You tell her what you wanted to get—an iced Americano with five shots of espresso and Lando’s coffee—and she leaves to buy it while you stay inside the car and patiently wait for her to return. She insisted on getting the coffee herself and you do not dare to complain. You like it this way anyway.

Jinnie, like the day of the FP1, drops you off at the same parking lot. You hop off the car.

“Text me when you need help. I’ll be nearby.”

You give her a thumbs up and Jinnie drives off.

It's night time but you pull a pair of sunglasses on, toss a ball cap over your head, and a face mask to cover the rest of your face. The McLaren jacket is tied around your shoulders. You don't want to wear it but Jinnie insists it has to be on your being. You're waiting for an opportunity to take it off, perhaps at the garage. You can strategically leave it on an empty chair or any flat surface and act like you have forgotten it.

You carry your phone in your right hand, your paddock pass and a paper zarf with two takeout coffees in the left. You send a quick message to Lando.

you: here

He replies not even three seconds later.

lando: coming

lando: same place?

you: okk heading there now

you: you reply fast

you: do you always hold your phone while in the garage?

lando: it's either i reply fast or i reply a week later take your pick

You let out an amused snort and lock your phone. You begin walking.

You freeze mid-step. The path you took on the day of the FP1 is filled with people. It's not supposed to be this crowded. This is a place far away from the stands and the track and the general admission area. It's also a good distance away from the team garages and the food stalls. It shouldn't be this crowded.

Your hands begin to tremble and become clammy. You lower your head, gaze fixing on the cement pathwalk. The people haven't noticed that it's you. At least, not yet. That's good. You can still leave and hide.

This is not what we planned, says your conscience. You're not a coward. Why are you running away like one?

I’m not a coward. If you say it as many times as you can, perhaps it will become the truth.

You turn around but begin to hesitate midway as you remember something.

Lando’s on his way. You can't leave now.

You swallow hard and turn back up front slowly. You let out a shaky breath and force your heart to become steady. You clench your hands into fists in an attempt to get them to start shaking.

They can't see my face, you assure yourself mentally.

Your hands, now fists, are still trembling.

I can do this.

You walk into the den of lions, not looking back even once. You take deep breaths underneath your mask. Inhale through your nose and exhale through your mouth; it's not going well for you. The longer you perform the breathing exercises, the more you think you're going to end up with a public meltdown.

They're all looking at you.

You can feel their collective gazes.

“Is that her?” you hear someone murmur. Your shoulders turn tense but you keep walking.

“It’s her, right?”

“I don't think so. She could be just a random fan.”

“Wait, look at the jacket. It has Lando’s last name stitched at the hem.”

A loud gasp, “Is that his personal jacket?”

“That's her! That's [Name]!”

Someone snatches your cap. Your eyes widen. You hurriedly turn your head to the side. Your sunglasses fly off at the abrupt movement. Your panic intensifies and you feel the air in your lungs running away and your throat closing up. The same way the crowd closes up on you. None of them even grant you the mercy of leaving a tiny gap for you to escape through. You are but a sheep in a den of lions about to be slaughtered.

You see faces and the backs of phones all pointing at you. They're all screaming your name, excitement apparent in their loud voices. You don't understand any other word they're saying, only your name. The chanting of [Name], [Name], [Name]; the tone slowly shifts into eerie the longer you listen to it.

They hate you.

They hate you.

They hate you.

They always do.

If this exact situation you're in happened two years ago, before the scandal, you would have adored the attention. You know how to handle a crowd confidently, the best at it among all the members of ORACLE if you dare say so.

But now, the attention is just….

You want nothing more than to hide from it.

No matter how you try to convince yourself that you can handle it, that you can handle when everybody looks at you, you can’t. You try to control how your mind thinks but ultimately, it is your mind that controls your entire being.

Someone snatches the face mask off your face before you can stop them. Now, you feel too naked, too bare. You slap a hand over the lower half of your face, dropping the coffee cups and your paddock pass down on the ground. You hiss when the coffee burns your feet. A chorus of surprised yelps. A few curse words are thrown in the air. Because of the spilled coffee, the crowd parts. You see a space and you waste no time weaving yourself from the people to try and leave.

The gap disappears when a person blocks it and you halt in your steps, almost colliding with the person. Your chin snaps up and your eyes widen, terrified, when Kang Geon Ho’s familiar face smiles at you. Kang Geon Ho, the sun to your Icarus, the one responsible for your downfall.

“Smile, [Name].”

A camera lens appear. The camera clicks just as a hand comes up to block it. Before you know it, the camera is wrenched away from your face.

“Fuck off, mate. That's too close.”

You’ve never never been more relieved seeing Lando there again.

The crowd grows impossibly louder. You have to cover your ears with your hands so the sheer volume of everyone’s screams won't damage your eardrums. Your eyes met Lando’s worried ones. He's frowning, you notice. You see his mouth move. He's talking to you, but you're not hearing anything and you can't read his lips either. You figure he’s asking you if you want to leave with him so you nod, a little too eagerly.

You don't expect him to throw you over his shoulder and make a run for it, a surprised scream already making its way out of your throat as your hands grip his hair so you won't fall.

username: livetweeting from the paddock rn and i think i just witnessed smth bizarre. i think i just saw a driver (or was it a mechanic??? idk really) running with someone on their shoulder

username: is there a kidnapping going on inside the paddock??

username: girl it's lando and his girl

username: what 😭😭

Your chest rises and falls in quick breaths as you try to catch your breath. You're leaning against the wall, both hands pressing flat against the wall for support. Spots are invading your visions, not disappearing even after finally standing upright. The bright orange color of the walls isn’t helping you either. You think you're going to lose consciousness or vomit your brunch or both.

“I think she needs to sit down,” the brunette sweetheart says. She was already in the garage when Lando pulled up with you in tow, locking hands with the guy you recognized as Lando’s teammate. It's a no-brainer. She's another WAG like you.

“No thank you,” you say in between heavy breaths. You start coughing. Lando rubs your back in soothing circles. “I’m fine. Just… I’m anemic.”

You need to start fixing your sleep schedule at your earliest convenience. Need to start exercising, too. You're not even this unfit before.

“Lando, mate, come on,” Oscar berates. “Is your IQ a single digit number?”

“I was just trying to get her out, mate!” Lando defends himself.

Oscar’s girlfriend shakes her head at the two. She draws closer to you, taking your hand in hers and pulls you away from the busy part of the garage and towards the back.

“I think it's best if we move someone less crowded, hm?”

You hear Lando protesting but you don't bother glancing back at him as Oscar coaxes him.

The girl makes you sit down in a monoblock chair she found, hands you a battery-operated mini fan that she conjured from inside her tote bag, and takes the empty space beside you.

“Are you thirsty?” You shake your head.

“Just dizzy,” you sigh. “Thank you, uh….”

“It's Lily,” she smiles. Lily is such a perfect name for a girl as sweet as her. You dip your chin to a light bow.

“I’m [Name].”

You and Lily watch the race together. She is pleasant company. She only talks when she needs to, which makes you happy because you’re not a person who’s particularly fond of chit chat. You don't hide your confusion as you both spectate the races projected on the large screen; you don't know what's happening for half the race. Lily is kind enough to explain everything to you. You know, you can tell if someone is intelligent when they are able to dumb down complicated information and explain it to another person where the information is easily understandable. Lily is definitely an intelligent woman.

“You're so…” you try to find the right word. “... Knowledgeable at this. Like not just the race and rules but the engines and cars and—”

You move your hand and hope it conveys what you're trying to say.

Lily giggles, “I’m studying engineering so I understand how the cars work. Most of the time, at least.

Your mouth forms an O, amazed.

She’s the type of woman you’d bring home to meet your parents. Oscar, that lucky motherfucker. You turn your gaze back to the monitor.

“You?”

You chuckle nervously, “I-I didn't finish uni.”

“I’m not finished with university either,” Lily says and you appreciate the underlying message in her words—there’s nothing to be ashamed about if you didn't finish uni. But here's the difference between you and Lily. She's going to finish uni some day. You're never going to.

South Korea is known for their high standards in education and you once received backlash when you shared that you only finished a year and one semester in university before dropping out.

“Psychology,” you tell her. “One year and one sem.”

“Psychology is such an interesting program.”

“Yeah.” It's the only course that the scholarship program you applied to is willing to offer to you. You didn't choose it because you wanted to. You were so poor you don't even have the luxury of a choice. “Agreed.”

You continue watching.

“Oh that was smart of him,” you note. “The red one. He’s going to win.”

“Ferrari?”

“Yeah. The one in front of Lando,” you point out.

“I think Lando can overtake him. Or maybe one of the Mercedes since they got fresh tires while the first two are still using their old ones.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong but the red one slowed down slightly until Lando was one second behind him. Then, Lando activated the DRS—that’s called a DRS, right?” Lily nods in confirmation. “And then that, uh… buffered the DRS of the fast black car behind Lando. So with that, Lando is able to defend his place but since he’s busy defending his place, he can't overtake the red car at the front.”

Giving yourself an advantage in the guise of helping someone. You rub your fingertips together in thought.

“Only three laps left. He’s going to win. Lando will either come second or third.”

“You’re quick at this,” Lily compliments.

You shrug nonchalantly despite feeling suddenly shy on the inside at the praise, “I try.”

“They used to be teammates, by the way.”

“Who?”

“Carlos and Lando.”

“Oh.”

You turn out to be right. The red car—the Ferrari and its driver, Carlos Sainz—wins the Singapore Grand Prix. Lando is a close second. Everyone inside the garage screams in pure ecstasy when he crosses the finish line and the checkered flag waves above the livery. You and Lily stand to clap your hands, happy for Lando. Lily’s boyfriend finishes seventh and you clap your hands for her, happy for her and her boy.

“Let's go to the podium, boys!”

You and Lily sit back down on your chairs so you can watch the ceremony on the screen but a mechanic comes by, tugs your arm, and says, “Come on! Your boyfriend is on the podium!”

Your eyes widen and you glance back at Lily, who grins widely at you and waves her hand encouragingly. Go, she mouths. You gulp and bend your head low as you make your way out of the garage and into the open. You lost your cap, your face mask, and your sunglasses at the earlier incident so you feel too bare. You want to go back to the garage. The garage is safer.

But you know full well that the world will question your absence. Why wouldn't a WAG support her boyfriend on the podium? They’d doubt your relationship and that's the last thing you need to happen right now.

You purse your lips and follow the other McLaren mechanics, speed walking while they all jog. You watch the awarding at the front row, strategically standing near a tall McLaren aerodynamic engineer so you can hide behind him once you see a camera panning in your direction.

Lando shines on top. Even if he's only second, he shines as if he’s the race winner. You're proud of him. You’re not acting this time.

You slowly clap your hands and smile in a way a girlfriend does when his boyfriend does something incredible—lovingly and in awe. All the people in McLaren watch Lando with proud faces.

He’s loved, you realize. Very much so. By his entire team. He’s his team’s prince. That's why they worked so hard in protecting him to the point that they'll hire a fake girlfriend to kill the rumors that damaged his reputation. And when a team loves their prince, the prince shines.

You used to be like this, too. HAN Ent used to love you like this. Not anymore.

He meets your eyes and they look gray and you notice how they widen slightly as if he didn't expect you to be here. Then, he grins, lifting the bottle of champagne as if he’s trying to show it to you. You give him a thumbs up and laugh, covering your face as you do so.

You return to the garage after the ceremony and the fireworks display. You and Lily wait patiently together for your boyfriends—your fake boyfriend but boyfriend nonetheless; you’re unsure if Lily and Oscar and any other McLaren staff employee besides the PR team are aware of the nature of your relationship with Lando—to finish the formalities of a post-race. The podiums, the interviews, and whatnot.

When they enter the garage, Lily immediately goes straight to Oscar, who meets her halfway and engulfs her in a tight hug. Your heart softens.

You turn to Lando who stands closely behind Oscar. He's looking at Oscar and Lily before he trails his gaze to you. Shrugging his shoulders, he opens his arms. You raise a single questioning brow.

“Come on, girlfriend.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“You're sweaty.”

“You don't see Lily complaining that Oscar’s sweaty.”

Lando inches towards you. You take a cautious step back.

“Lando, no.”

A mischievous glint appears in his eyes. You prepare yourself to make a run for it.

“Lando, no. LANDO!”

He breaks out into a sprint. Naturally, you also make a run for it, not wanting to hug a very sweaty Lando.

You tire yourself quickly and your heels put you in a great disadvantage. Naturally, Lando catches in his arms in just a few minutes. You struggle against his arms at first then later, you resign to your fate despite not liking the feeling of sticky and damp skins. You're not the fittest person and Lando is a high-performance athlete; you fought a losing game.

“Oh, right,” Lando pulls away but still remains holding your wrists. “The team is planning to celebrate tonight. Do you want to come with me?”

With me, you note. Not with us but with me.

“Raincheck?” You're not sure if you’re using the right word in the right context. Hence, the questioning tone.

“Not a party girl, aren't you?”

You shake your head, “I prefer working in my hotel room anyway.”

“Oh right…. The song….”

“Mhm, the song.”

Lando glances at your surroundings. The mechanics are packing up everything now.

“I mean, I can miss the party.”

You raise a brow, confused.

“Why would you want to miss the party? You're second place today.”

Lando makes a weird noise that sounds like it's between an amused laugh and a disappointed groan, “Don't remind me. But yeah, I can miss it. Oscar already went with Lily anyway. I think it'll be suspicious if I spend the night partying instead of going with you, am I right, girlfriend?”

You roll your eyes, though not unkindly. He is right, you suppose.

“Besides, PR scheduled a hard launch today.”

Ah, dreadful hard launches. You need to make a new Instagram account just for Lando when you return to the hotel. It's a drag. You’ve never operated Instagram since 2021. You’ve kept burner accounts in Tiktok and X, formerly Twitter, but never Instagram. Not since the scandal.

“Okay."

Lando grins with glee.

“Come on, girlfriend.”

username1: IT’S CONFIRMED GUYS IT'S CONFIRMED

username2: AAAAAAHHHH F1TV HARDLAUNCHING THEIR RELATIONSHIP BEFORE ANY OF THEM CONFIRMS

username3: lando already did

username4: by accident 😭 does it even count as a hard launch

Lando snorts audibly from his place on the couch. You look up from your laptop and send him a confused look. You're inside your hotel room again, enjoying the silence while basking in each other's presence.

He shows you the tweet, making you cringe when you see your face on the screen.

“Did McLaren Racing tell them I was your partner?”

“I think so, yeah.”

You sigh.

“Well, it's nice to know they told everyone for us. At least, we don't have to do it ourselves.”

“Do I even need to hard launch you now?”

You shrug.

username5: lando wins p2 and girlie’s reaction was like:

username6: lmaooo why does she look so angry she be squinting at everything 😤 gurl never beating the bitchy allegations

username7: what kind of wag is this? she should just go back to south korea fr idk what lando sees in her

LandoNorris: Hi! To clarify, my girlfriend’s default face is angry but she's not angry, she's just confused. and she’s squinting because of astigmatism. She actually isn't sure what's happening because everything is so fast for her.

LandoNorris: And she's holding her bangs so it wouldn't fly away in the wind lol. She forgot to spray it this morning. Please don't misunderstand thanks.

username6: LANDO???

username8: lmao lando be suddenly remembering that he has a twt acc just to tell people not to badmouth his girl

username9: MORE LOWQUAL [NAME] SCREENSHOTS

username10: ugh she looks so annoying and fake fr

username11: get a life

Lando reports the hate tweet before he shows you your pictures.

“Your bangs are so thick. It's like you’re hiding a dozen secrets in there.”

You snort, “I might be.”

“What secrets?”

In the most serious, no nonsense tone you can muster, you say, “I killed my mother.”

Lando laughs.

username12: LANDO CAN YOU FIGHT BARK BARK

LandoNorris: 🤺🤺🤺

username13: i want lando’s girl 😭😭😭

LandoNorris: well too bad, she doesn't want you, she wants me

username14: LMAO CANT BELIEVE IM SEEING JEALOUS LANDO

username15: rip fuckboi lando, hello loyal and protective bf lando

LandoNorris: Well, cat’s out of the bag now 🤷

LandoNorris: But I'm still not very happy with what happened earlier before the race. Our relationship might be out now but it doesn't make it okay for all of you to gather around [Name] like what happened today. I sincerely ask everyone to respect us.

“Oh, that's a sick beat," Lando lifts his head.

“Sick?”

“I mean it's good. Good sick. Not like sick sick, fever sick.”

He’s saying the word “sick” a little too much.

“Woo, that wasn't very cool of me.”

“You're lucky I’m fake dating you even if you’re uncool.”

“Uh, rude?”

A phone ring interrupts you both. It's not yours.

Lando stands from the couch and walks away to answer the call on the balcony. You continue tweaking the bits. It still doesn't sound like it's worthy to be a single. This song has to be perfect. It doesn't have to be SOTY material, it just has to be the song. You have to make a mark to gain your relevance in the KPop industry back.

Lando comes back, his phone against his ear.

“Do you mind helping me out, baby?”

“What is it?” you ignore the way your heart wavers slightly because of the “baby.” It's not the word. You're used to hearing people call sweet pet names. It's just the way he utters it. You can't find a few accurate words to describe it. Affectionate? Soft? Real.

“My family kinda….wants to see you?” He pulls the phone away from his ear and covers the microphone of the gadget with his hand. He whispers: “They don't know we're fake dating and they just saw the race.”

“Oh,” you hurriedly fix yourself, straightening your hair and setting your laptop aside. Family wasn't in the list of the people allowed to know of the PR stunt. You're not surprised that Lando didn't tell them. However, you still didn't expect them to call their son over this. “Video call or…?”

“Video.”

You nod. You hurriedly smooth out the creases of your top.

“Do I look perfect now?”

“Beautiful.”

You give him a look. You won't accept anything less than perfect.

“You look okay, [Name].”

“I’m going to get my powder—”

Lando grabs your elbow, “No, you’re already beautiful. You don't need to reapply. Oh, look, hey Mum!”

Your eyes widen and you cover the lower half of your face with your palm as Lando moves the phone so the two of you can be seen on the screen. You shyly wave and his mother proceeds to scream. You jump slightly.

“Sorry, that was your sister.”

Lando laughs, shaking his head.

“You have a sister?” you whisper-ask.

“Yeah,” he holds up two fingers. “Two younger ones. They're Corales.”

Your eyes widen. Corale is the fandom of ORACLE. (You hate this name but that's what the company decided.)

“You're serious.”

“Dead serious,” Lando says. “That's why they called immediately. You're Cisca’s bias. Flo is OT7.”

You gape. You can't believe you're hearing this.

“I—”

Your surprise turns into horror. Lando's sisters are definitely aware of your scandal. As fans of ORACLE, they're certainly updated about it.

Shit.

“Let me talk to her. Let me talk to her. Oh my god, hiiiiii.”

You force yourself to smile and shyly wave at his sister. She squeals, excited.

“OH MY GOD, LANDO YOU FINALLY DID SOMETHING RIGHT IN YOUR LIFE.”

“Hey!” Lando barks. “Can you at least act like you respect me in front of my girlfriend please? Jeez, Cisca.”

“Let me see her—Oh my god, I will cry. Annyeong [Name]-unnie! Eotteohge jinaeseyo? Dangsin-eun neomu yeppeuda!”

You chuckle softly, “Hi, I’m doing well. Thank you for asking.”

“Your Korean is terrible.”

“Shut up, Kinder.”

“I think your Korean is wonderful. Lando is just being mean,” you say, making Lando gasp as if your words offended him. “I love your hair.”

She squeals again, delighted.

“She noticed my hair! Oh my god! I went to the salon today just to talk to you! Wait, you’re speaking English?”

“I can speak English, yes.”

You turn to Lando, “What’s her name again?”

“Cisca.”

“Cisca,” you repeat slowly, testing how it sounds from your tongue.

“She said my name!”

You chuckle.

“Kinder, you are never ever allowed to mess this up! If you break up with her, I'm going to break your legs."

Cisca gets shoved away and another girl replaces her on the screen. Ah, she must be Flo, you think. She and Cisca look alike.

“Hi [Name]!”

“Hi Flo.”

“Have I already told you I loved you?”

You're unsure how to respond, “Thank you?”

“That's enough,” Lando decides, moving the phone away. You hear a series of protests.

“No, no, that’s enough.”

“Don't gatekeep your girlfriend!”

Lando, like a brat, sticks his tongue out to the camera, “I will do whatever I want.”

“Is she going to be in Suzuka? I’m flying to Suzuka! I need to see her!”

“Bye Flo, bye Cisca, bye Mum. Tell Dad and Oliver I said hi.”

“Kinder!”

Lando playfully sticks out his tongue towards the phone and ends the call.

You can't help but feel relieved. You expected them to hate you. But they didn't. So you're grateful.

“That wasn't very nice. They still wanted to talk.”

“No. They just wanted to fangirl.”

You shake your head at him.

“By the way, you’re coming to Suzuka, right? With me?”

He said with me instead of with us again.

“When is that again?”

You can't remember dates very well.

“The 24th.”

“The FP1?”

“No, the FP1’s on the 22nd.”

You press your tongue against the inside of your cheek, “I have to go back to Seoul and talk to Yoon PD-nim.”

Further discussions about the whole agreement and situation has to be made. He sent you to Singapore only a day after accepting Yoon PD-nim's proposal. He didn't elaborate on the situation enough but has promised to explain after Singapore.

“I’ve never been to South Korea before.”

“You should come and visit then," you say, nonchalant.

“Okay, I’ll tell my manager I’m flying with you.”

You blink.

“Heh?”

Koreaboo: Former member of ORACLE, [Name] spotted today at Incheon International Airport with Formula One Racer boyfriend after the Singapore Grand Prix. Click the link to read more about this news.

koreabooo.com

“So you brought the boy along?”

“He brought himself.”

A heavy sigh goes past Yoon PD-nim’s lips. He lowers the paper in his hand to his desk. It's the revised contract with McLaren.

“What did they think about this?”

He’s referring to the contract.

“This isn't what was initially planned.”

“I know.”

“How did you get them to agree with your terms?”

Your terms, you note. His choice of words only remind you how alone you really are. The company is sending you as a soldier to a war you don't know how to navigate into and will do nothing to help you. They'll only wait for you to come back, either as a corpse or as a victor. If you return a corpse, they’ll dump you. Your contract is going to end in less than eleven months, it’ll be easy for them to do so. If you return a victor, they’ll reap all the benefits you sowed. You noticed a new McLaren in the parking lot today. Yoon PD-nim is already reaping benefits. If you're lucky, the only benefit you’ll get after this is a solo debut promotion and a contract extension.

“I did what I could."

You pushed a bluff and hoped it would go your way. Fortunately, it did go your way.

A proud smile appears on Yoon PD-nim's lips.

“I knew I was right in choosing you.”

He can never be so wrong.

A knock on the door ruins your concentration, causing you to draw a stray jagged line on the paper. You sigh, muttering a shibal beneath your breath. You do a quick glance on the time projected in your laptop—11:31 PM. You assume it’s Min Hee, a member of ORACLE who promised to come by earlier after her rehearsal for her solo in the upcoming MAMA Awards in November. It's still quite early to start practicing for the award show but Minhee always liked doing things in advance. When you open the door, your eyes widen.

It's not Minhee.

“Lando?”

#lando norris #f1 x reader #fluff #formula one #f1 imagines #fanfic #formula 1 #lando norris x reader #ln4 fic #ln4 x reader #ln4 #kpop idol! reader

[amphitriteswife]

Teacher (and subjects) head cannons!:

(I’m from the netherlands and the school here has a different grading system. Also collage and highschool are one thing. So highschool is 4,5 or 6 years depending on which grade you get on tests and stuff in elementary so please bear with me)

Poseidon:

You would think that he would teach biology but you would be wrong. He would teach Physics or some high level math.

The type to not let anyone in after the bell rings

Doesn’t care if you end up dead in the class you will not go to the bathroom during his lesson

Stands by the door to make sure you put it in those phone pockets thingy

Gives the most homework out of all the teachers

Wears formal clothes, always. Suits, blazer, slacks ect.

You will never catch him on a bad hair day

If he catches you cheating on a test, you can say goodbye to that grade because he will give you a zero.

He does sometimes turn a blind eye if you’re on the brink of not passing and don’t choose his subject. (You do need to be on the brink. So not like a 3 or sum)

Hates electronics so he just wants everyone to use a paper and the book. No laptops.

Only talkes to some teachers like Hades and Thor

Students think he’s either the worst or just eye candy

Has won the the contest of best man titties by students

People actually ended up crying in his class and he didn’t give a damn

Sends people out 2 minutes before the time and doesn’t care if they beg.

If you have him as a substitute you can start praying because you’ll miss your regular teacher

Types with one finger if he’s on his phone (rare sight)

Checks homework. As in not just looking but actually reading your calculations.

He sometimes even grades your homework or puts them for bonuses

He sometimes reads if it’s work time and he finishes his lecture

Got drunk one time during school dance and started breakdancing. Hades was supportive and filmed it.

Hades

Teaches history

Is well with his colleagues and is well liked by students

He’s not strict with phones but please don’t use them in his class

You sometimes do work. He mostly explains and writes notes on the white board for you to write down

Is very, very passionate about certain topics. His favorites would be the world wars and the greek/ roman empire.

Is that type of teacher that you could tell anything. School, home, hobbies. He won’t mind and he’s equally interested.

Has a mentor class every year and he helps them a lot.

His class is very popular and lots of people choose his subject, so popular that people who don’t take it sometimes ask if they can stay and also follow it for fun

Almost never gives homework

He makes planners, notes, power points. Anything that may help his students.

He even lets the class watch films so that they understand it better, he usually choses for oversimplified if he needs to explain the word wars

You can eat in his class as long as you keep it clean and don’t throw stuff

Smells like rituals. Flowers. Very addictive and good. Sniff

Is present at the school dance and school parties. He helps with carrying and making sure the students don’t do stupid stuff

He doesn’t even need to discuss about his students’ grades because all his students do good in his class

Is rated to have the biggest dick by the students.

Also wears formal clothes. So like a suit, but if he crosses his legs you can see that he wears funky socks. Like a bright purple with colorful cupcakes on it or a bright blue with yellow ducks on it.

Gives extra lessons if you don’t understand.

You know how when someone asks teachers about their life? If you do that he gets so happy and explains a lot

Shows pictures of Melinoe and Zagreus from when they were babies.

He brought a 4 year old melinoe with him one time and the class played with her. If she was not playing with the students she was probably in her father’s lap.

He also shows pictures of Persephone. Every time he talks about her you can hear the love in his voice. (I’m Persephone reincarnated)

Hermes

Teaches music ofcourse

You would think that music was easy but it really isn’t. You need to able to read music notes. You get 2 tests, playing and theory.

Helps well if you need assistance with your instruments

Gives surprise tests to see if you actually did the homework

He loves and i mean looooveeees gossip

He doesn’t say much but listens when a student says something about another teacher

Handles the school musical

You actually need to put effort if you want to pass

Doesn’t take away your phone if he sees you with it. Just stares from behind on it until you notice.

doesn’t sent people out of the class, just gives them extra homework

He never, ever stops smiling. The class is being too loud? He’ll sit in his chair and simply drink his tea while glaring with a smile.

Some students find him scary because of how polite he is, because they can feel that underlying anger.

Knows how to make a student’s life miserable if they make his class unbearable.

You threw paper at him and made the class disruptive? Boom 4 chapters done by the next lesson and all the texts should be 4 times written. In cursive

He is usually seen with the principal (Zeus)

Buddha

Geography teacher

Why? Because he often travels for different kind of reasons.

Eating is allowed, as well as chewing gun

Is great with the students and most people just choose his subject because he’s chill

Doesn’t prepare lessons. He just talks and the students get it

If he does have a powerpoint he promotes his insta, tiktok and his snap

Loves to know about different cultures

Had a diss battle in his class once and almost got into trouble

Called someone emo

If you eat in his class prepare to share.

Asks people if they can bring him coffee from the teachers’ room

You cannot tell me that dawg didn’t pull up in Jordans

Is also present at the school dance and actually bribes the dg for some songs

Doesn’t really care if you skip his class. He either doesn’t care or doesn’t notice.

He too has a mentor class. He has private talks and doesn’t mind if you tell him his problems and genuinely tries to help

Doesn’t give homework unless it’s necessary.

Beelzebub

Creepy Science teacher

Got called emo by Buddha

Doesn’t hesitate to threaten students

He never cares if you don’t show up, but he will rat you out because funny

Has been detected to smile when he does weird stuff. Like cutting things open

Is always in his lab and he’s the only one who can enter with a key

Someone made a sticker of his face and the whole school used it, again he doesn’t care

Had like those weird pots with stuff in it

Doesn’t allow anyone to touch them. He does demonstrate stuff if you ask nicely

Let’s you go early but it’s not in a nice way. He’ll only do it because he doesn’t want to teach anymore for the day

Doesn’t even go to lunch, he just remains in his lab

He only goes to halloween parties

Cyberbullies people. Teachers and students included

Runs the anti *insert school* accounts

Will not care if the school burns down. He hates everyone and everything. Except Hades, because he’s cool

Doesn’t care if you eat or drink. (He may or may not have put something in it for his experiments)

‘Students are like little monsters’ is his motto. He’ll treat them like it too

If you fail his tests he’ll sometimes give you one to retake

Thank ya’ll for reading :p

I’m gonna make a part 2. I think. Maybe some with the human fighters

#snv poseidon #shuumatsu no valkyrie #ror poseidon #record of ragnarok #poseidon record of ragnarok #poseidon ror #ror beelzebub #snv beelzebub #beelzebub ror #beelzebub snv #ror hades #hades snv #snv hades #hades ror #hades shuumatsu no valkyrie #buddha #ror buddha #snv buddha #buddha ror #buddha snv #buddha shuumatsu no valkyrie #buddha record of ragnarok #ror poseidon x reader #snv poseidon x reader #hades x reader #snv hades x reader #ror hades x reader #ror amphitrite #beelzebub x reader #snv beelzebub x reader